A Wealth of Information

 Arabic Tales and Stories

(This is taken from F.F. Arbuthnot's Arabic Authors, originally published in 1890.)

Of the two hundred and fifty books of tales, the titles of which are

given in the ‘Fihrist,’ only three or four have attained European

fame. Firstly, the book known in Arabic as ‘Kalilah wa Dimnah,’

containing the celebrated Indian apologues, or the so-called fables of

Bidpay, on the origin of which several dissertations have been

written.

In ‘Early Ideas’ (W.H. Allen and Co., 1881) mention was made of the

fables of Bidpay, or Pilpai, as being the traditionally oldest-known

collection of stories in Hindustan, and that from them the ‘Pancha

Tantra,’ or ‘Five Chapters,’ and the ‘Hitopodesa,’ or ‘Friendly

Advice,’ are supposed to have been drawn.

In ‘Persian Portraits’ (Quaritch, 1887) it was noted that the Persian

work called ‘Kalilah wa Dimnah’ is said to have been originally

derived from the fables of Bidpay, and that it led to the longer and

larger works known in Persian literature as the ‘Anwar-i-Suheli,’ or

‘The Lights of Canopos,’ and the ‘Ayar-Danish,’ or ‘The Touchstone of

Knowledge.’

It is highly probable that this work of ‘Kalilah wa Dimnah’

(translated from Persian into Arabic by Ibn Al-Mukaffa about A.D.

750), and another Persian work, not now extant, but known as the

‘Hazar Afsaneh,’ or ‘Thousand Stories,’ were the first sources from

which were commenced to be compiled the best collection of tales and

stories in Arabic literature, and called ‘The Thousand and One

Nights,’ and popularly known in this country as ‘The Arabian Nights.’

As regards the ‘Hazar Afsaneh,’ or ‘Thousand Stories,’ it is much to

be regretted that all trace of this work has disappeared. It is,

however, mentioned by Masudi, and An-Nadim, the author of the

‘Fihrist,’ but whether they had actually seen and perused the whole

work is uncertain. It may have been completed during the rule of the

Sasanian dynasty in Persia (A.D. 228-641), some of whose kings were

patrons of letters, and the work, or portions of it, may have been

destroyed along with a large quantity of other Persian literature at

the time of the conquest of the Persian Empire by the Arabs in A.D.

641. At all events, it has not yet been found, though it is still

hoped that it may turn up some day.

As regards the ‘Nights’ themselves, it is impossible to fix any exact

date to them, neither can they be ascribed to any particular authors.

From the book as it has come down to us; there is ample evidence to

assert that the collection of all the tales and stories occupied many

years, and that the authors of them were numerous. As great progress

was made in Arab literature from the commencement of the rule of the

Abbaside dynasty in A.D. 750, it maybe inferred that the work itself

dates from that period, and that it had been put together in a certain

form before the fall of Baghdad in A.D. 1258. After that date other

stories were probably added, and the whole répertoire was perhaps put

together again in its present shape either at Cairo or Damascus, with

numerous alterations and additions.

It is believed that the fables and apologues are the oldest part of

the book. These bear on their face a decided impress of the Farther

East; indeed, they are quite of the nature of the stories told in the

‘Pancha Tantra,’ ‘Kathá Sarit Ságara,’ ‘Hitopodesa,’ and ‘Kalilah wa

Dirnnah,’ many of them being either the same, or bearing a very great

resemblance to them. Animal fables generally may have originated in

India, where the doctrine of metempsychosis obtains currency to this

day; but, still, Egypt, Greece, and other countries, have also

produced stories of the same nature. From the time of the early

Egyptians, the fable has ever been the means of conveyance of both

instruction and amusement to mankind. And as years rolled by the fable

grew into the tale or story, which later on expanded into the romance

and the novel.

After the fables the oldest tales in the ‘Nights’ are supposed to be

the Sindibad, or the tale of the king, his son, his concubine, and the

seven wazirs; and that of King Jali’ad of Hind, and his wazir Shimas,

followed by the history of King Wird Khan, son of King Jali’ad, with

his women and wazirs. These tales have also an Indian flavour about

them, both with regard to the animal stories in them and to the

sapient remarks about the duties of kings and their ministers, often

referred to in the Kathá Sarit Ságara, of which more anon.

The remaining tales and stories in the ‘Nights’ may be of Persian,

Arabian, Egyptian, and Syrian origin, some earlier and some later. The

adventures of Kamar Al-Zaman and the jeweller’s wife, and of Ma’aruf,

the cobbler, and his wife Fatimah, are considered to be two of the

very latest stories, having been assigned to the sixteenth century.

The story of Aboukir, the dyer, and Abousir, the barber, is quoted by

Payne ‘as the most modern of the whole collection.’

Certain stories of the ‘Nights’ were first introduced to Europe,

between 1704-1708, by Antoine Galland, a Frenchman, whose biography is

given by Burton in his ‘Terminal Essay,’ vol. x., and most interesting

it is. The work of the translation of Arabic and Persian stories was

continued by Petis de la Croix (1710-12), Morell (1765), Dow (1768),

Chavis and Cazotte (1787-89), Caussin de Perceval (1806), Gauttier

(1822), Jonathan Scott (1811), Von Hammer Purgstall (1823), Zinzerling

(1823-24), Trebutien (1828), Habicht (1825-39), Weil (1838-42),

Torrens (1838), Lane (1838-40), and the ‘Nights’ themselves have now

been completely finished by John Payne (1882-84) and Richard Burton

(1885-88).

A perusal of the productions of all the translators above mentioned

will show that, as regards finality, both Payne and Burton have done

their work completely, thoroughly, and exhaustively, and for all time,

as far as an English translation is concerned. Too much credit cannot

be given to these two gentlemen for their untiring labour and energy.

The more the ‘Nights’ are read, the more will people appreciate the

amount of hard work and acumen, intelligence and ability, which has

been thrown into the undertaking by these two accomplished

littérateurs. And it is highly probable that their translations, along

with Galland’s volumes in French, will ever remain as the standard

European versions of this great series of Oriental tales.

Space will not permit of a lengthy description of all that is

contained in Payne’s thirteen, and in Burton’s sixteen, volumes. To be

appreciated thoroughly, they must be read, like Balzac’s works, from

the very beginning to the very end. At the same time a brief analysis

of these two translations of the ‘Nights’ may perhaps be interesting,

and will serve the purposes of the present chapter.

The first nine of Payne’s, and the first ten of Burton’s, volumes are

devoted to the ‘Nights’ proper, and follow the same lines. The

translation has been made from what are commonly known as the Boulac

(Cairo) and the two Calcutta Arabic texts of the ‘Nights,’ though

references are made to the Breslau (Tunis) edition, from which also

some extracts have been taken and some translations made. The contents

of these volumes may be divided into four heads:

(1) Fables and apologues.

(2) Short stories and anecdotes, some biographical and historical.

(3) Tales and stories.

(4) Long stories, or romances.

Excluding the two short stories in the introductory chapter, there are

10 principal and 6 subordinate fables under the first heading, 116

principal and 3 subordinate stories under the second, 38 principal and

75 subordinate under the third, and 6 principal and 12 subordinate

under the fourth heading. This gives a total of 170 principal and 96

subordinate stories in Burton’s edition, while Payne gives one

principal story and one subordinate one less, his numbers being 169

and 95 respectively. By principal is meant the main or chief story,

while by subordinate is meant another story forming part of the main

story. In Oriental literature this custom is frequently introduced. A

story is commenced, but owing to some allusion in it another story is

interpolated, and when this is finished, the original tale is reverted

to, only, perhaps, to be interpolated again by another story, and so

on.

Out of this mass of fable, tale and story, it is difficult to select

any particular ones that may prove interesting to everybody. Some are

very good, others good, some fairish, and others indifferent; but all

are more or less interesting, as they deal with all sorts and

conditions of men and women, and all sorts of events and situations.

Personally, some twelve stories have struck me as particularly

interesting or amusing, though it does not at all follow that what one

person fancies another person cares about. A perusal of the work

itself will enable its readers to find out what they like for

themselves, while the following brief remarks on the twelve stories

alluded to above will give a scanty outline of them.

The tale of Aziz and Azizah is one of the best in the whole

collection. It represents the care and fondness of a truly loving

woman, who did her best to shield and protect her very stupid cousin.

It is said that people marry for three reasons, viz., for love, for

money, or for protection. In truth, nobody can protect a man from a

woman as another woman. No man can drive off a woman, divine her

intention, or insult her so violently as a woman can, and this is

generally understood both in the East and West. In the present story,

Azizah first helps her cousin Aziz to woo and win, endeavouring to

shield and protect him at the same time from this daughter of Dalilah,

the wily one. Had it not been for Azizah’s good advice and farewell

saying of “Faith is fair, and unfaith is foul,” Aziz would have surely

perished. Eventually, the loving Azizah dies of a broken heart.

Aziz, though repeatedly warned by his mistress, the daughter of

Dalilah, not to have anything to do with the sex on account of his

youth and simplicity, falls into the hands of another woman, who first

marries him, and then keeps him locked up in her house, and never lets

him out for a whole year. When, however, he does get away for a day

only, he goes at once to see his former mistress, who is furious on

hearing that he is married to somebody else, and with the aid of her

slave girls serves him out in a way which, from one point of view,

makes marriage quite a failure for him in the future. On going back to

his wife, she, having found out what had occurred, immediately puts

him into the street, and he returns in a sad plight to his mother, who

nurses him and gives him the present and the letter that his cousin

Azizah had left for him. Finally Aziz, for the sake of distraction,

takes to foreign travel, and there meets with Taj al Muluk, whom he

assists to find the princess Dunya.

The tale of Kamar Al-Zaman and the Lady Budur is both amusing and

interesting. It is truly an Eastern story, full of curious and

wonderful situations, and quite a kaleidoscope of passing events,

which succeed each other rapidly. The hero and the heroine are a young

prince and princess, living in very different parts of the world

(space and geography have no place in the “Nights”), and both very

averse to matrimony. The one fears the smiles and wiles of woman, the

other the tyranny and selfishness of man. A certain Queen of the

Jinns, with her assistants, bring the two together one night in the

same bed, and separate them in the morning. But the sight that each

had had of the other caused them to fall desperately in love, and deep

are the lamentations of each over the separation, which continues for

some years. At last Kamar Al-Zaman finds his way to his lady-love, the

Princess Budur, and they are happily wedded; alas! after a short time,

to be again separated. Then follow the adventures of each—the lady

becomes a king, and is married to a princess, and rules a country,

while Kamar Al-Zaman’s fate assigns him the place of an

under-gardener. Destiny, however, re-unites them, and the Lady Budur’s

joke before recognition and re-union is certainly humorous. She makes

him further marry the lady that she herself was married to, and a son

is born to each, respectively called Amjad and Asaad. When the boys

grow up, the mother of each falls violently in love with the son of the

other, i.e., Budur adores Asaad, and Heyat en Nufus worships Amjad,

and the two mothers end by making dishonourable proposals to the two

sons. These overtures being indignantly rejected, the mothers, as in

all Eastern tales, turn the tables by informing their husband that his

sons had made indecent proposals to them. In consequence they are sent

off to be slain in the desert, but, from the circumstances which occur

there, the executioner spares their lives, and returns with their

clothes steeped in a lion’s blood, reporting that he has carried out

the king’s instructions, and quoting their last message to their

father:

‘Women are very devils, made to work us dole and death;

Refuge I seek with God Most High from all their craft and

skaith.

Prime source are they of all the ills that fall upon mankind,

Both in the fortunes of this world and matters of the faith.’

The king at once recognises their innocence, and mourns over their

loss, building two tombs in their memory, called the Houses of

Lamentations, where he spends his days weeping.

Meanwhile the two youths, left to their own devices by the

executioner, journey onward, arrive at a city, become separated, go

through all sorts of adventures, all of a most thrilling description,

and are finally re-united. The closing scene brings all the characters

of the romance together at the same place, and the grandfathers,

fathers, and sons all meet once more, but no further mention is made

about the two mothers, who so deeply injured their own offspring.

Ala Aldin Abu Al-Shamat.—This story is of considerable interest, for

it begins with a recipe for an aphrodisiac, and contains many

allusions to Eastern manners and customs. Born of wealthy parents at

Cairo, details are given of Ala Aldin’s youth and boyhood, and of how

the wish to travel and to trade was instilled into his mind by his

young companions, at the instigation of a crafty old sinner, Mahmud of

Balkh. With some reluctance his father at last allows him to start,

and going first to Damascus, then to Aleppo, he is robbed of all his

property just before he reaches Baghdad, and very nearly loses his

life into the bargain, but his good fortune saves him on two

occasions. Arrived at Baghdad, his adventures begin, and they follow

each other with considerable rapidity. He first is married to Zobeidah

the Lutist, on the understanding that it was for one night only, and

that he was to divorce her the next morning, so that she might be

re-married to her former husband. But when the time comes, Ala Aldin

and the lady find each other such pleasant company that they absolutely

decline to divorce, and elect to pay the fine. This money is provided

for them by Harun-ar-Rashid, who visits them one night with three of

his companions all disguised as dervishes, and they are charmed with

Zobeidah’s performance on the lute, her singing, and her recitations.

Ala Aldin then goes to the Court, where he rises to high favour and

receives various good appointments. To his great grief he loses his

wife, who dies, as he supposes, and is buried with the usual mourning,

but in reality turns up again at the end of the tale, and is re-united

to her husband. It appears that a servant of the Jinn had carried her

off to another country, leaving a Jinneyah to be buried in her place.

To make up for the loss of Zobeidah, the Khalif gives Ala Aldin one of

his own slave-girls, Kut al Kulub by name, and sends her, with all her

belongings, to his house. Ala Aldin will not have anything to do with

her, on the grounds—“What was the master’s should not become the

man’s;” but he lodges, boards, and treats her handsomely. Eventually

Harun takes her back, and orders a slave-girl to be bought at his

expense in the market for ten thousand dinars for Ala Aldin. This is

done, and a girl named Jessamine is purchased and given to him. He

sets her at once free and marries her.

But at the time of the purchase another man had been bidding for this

same girl, and, being much in love with her, his family determine to

assist him in getting hold of her. A whole lot of fresh characters

then appear on the scene, and, after much plotting and intrigue, Ala

Aldin is arrested and sentenced to death. He, however, escapes to

Alexandria, and there opens a shop. Further adventures follow, till he

finds himself at Genoa, where he remains for some time as servant in a

church. Meanwhile at Baghdad his wife Jessamine has borne him a son,

named Asdan, who grows up, and in time discovers the author and nature

of the theft of which his father had been accused, and thus prepares

the way for his return to the city of the Khalifs. This is brought

about by the Princess Husn Maryam at Genoa, with whom Ala Aldin finds

his first wife Zobeidah, and they all set out on a wonderful couch and

go first to Alexandria, then to Cairo to visit his parents, and

finally to Baghdad, where he marries the princess and lives happy ever

afterwards.

Ali the Persian and the Kurd Sharper is a very short story, but quite

Rabelaisian in its humour, and the manner in which the Persian and the

Kurd describe the contents of the small bag that had been lost. All

sorts of things are mentioned in a haphazard way, many of them,

however, perhaps, being required to fulfil the exigencies of the

rhymed prose in which the story is written in the original Arabic.

The Man of Al-Yaman and his six Slave-Girls.—The six girls in this

story have all different qualities. One is white, another brown, the

third fat, the fourth lean, the fifth yellow, and the sixth black. The

happy owner gets them together, and in verse and recitation each

praises her own peculiarity, and abuses that of her opposite by

examples and quotations. There is an Oriental twang about the story

which makes it worthy of notice, and some of the verses are not bad.

Abu Al-Husn and his slave-girl Tawaddud.—This story is not amusing,

but it is very interesting, especially to persons studying the minute

details of the Muhammadan faith, doctrine and practice, according to

the Shafai school, and the exegesis of the Koran, all of which are

wonderfully expounded by the slave-girl. In the shape of questions and

answers an enormous amount of information of all sorts is put into the

mouth of this highly accomplished female. The writer deals not only

with theology, but also with physiology in all its branches, or, at

least, with as many as were known at the period of the tale. Further,

medicine, astronomy, philosophy, and all kinds of knowledge are

discussed. A series of conundrums are put to the girl and replied to

by her, and she also displays her skill in chess, draughts,

backgammon, and music.

It is to be regretted that the exact date of this species of

Mangnall’s Questions and Answers cannot be ascertained, for this would

enable us to appreciate better the amount of knowledge displayed on

the various subjects under discussion. Anyhow, it is certain that it

must have been written some time after the doctrines of the Imam

Shafai (he died A.D. 820) had been well-defined and established. Owing

to certain medical and surgical queries and replies, it is to be

presumed that the whole must have been worked up after the Arab school

of medicine and physiology had arrived at their highest stage of

perfection. The whole story is a good specimen of the state of

civilization reached by the Arabs, and as such is worth a reference.

Three other stories in the ‘Nights’ bear some affinity to the above,

but they are much more limited, both as regards the subject they deal

with and the information they supply. One is ‘King Jali’ad and his

vizier Shimas,’ in Payne’s eighth and Burton’s ninth volume; another,

‘History of Al-Hajjaj bin Yusuf and the young Sayyid,’ in Burton’s

fifth supplemental; and the third, ‘The Duenna and the King’s Son,’ in

his sixth supplemental.

The Rogueries of Dalilah the Crafty, and her daughter, Zeynab the

Trickstress.—The tricks played by Dalilah the Crafty on all sorts of

people in this story are of a nature that would make the tale amusing

to the Arabs generally, and to the frequenters of coffee-houses

particularly. Dalilah’s father and husband had held lucrative

appointments under the Khalifs of Baghdad, and, with a view to obtain

something for herself and her daughter Zeynab, these two women

determined to bring themselves to notice by playing tricks, and doing

things which were likely to be talked of in the great city. In Europe

at the present time the same method is often followed. Attempted

assassinations, attempted suicides, complaints in the police-courts

and cases in the law-courts are sometimes meant simply as an

advertisement.[7] Anyhow, Dalilah’s tricks played on various people

are certainly amusing, and as they run ingeniously one into the other,

it is somewhat difficult to describe them in a few words. The tale, to

be appreciated, must be read through. Sufficient to add that Dalilah

and Zeynab both eventually obtain what they wish, and the various

things taken from the different parties are duly returned to them.

[Footnote 7: As an example take the following extract

from the Daily Telegraph of 16th July, 1889:

‘The sisters Macdonald have been giving a great deal more

trouble to the police lately than even the bearers of so

historic a name are entitled to give. Ethel Macdonald

appeared at Marlborough Street charged with having wilfully

smashed a window at the Junior Carlton Club, St. James’s

Square. It was stated that the aggressive Ethel was one of

the daughters of an ex-superintendent of county constabulary

deceased, and that his daughters, being left unprovided for,

had taken to going on the “rampage.” One of the sisters

alleges that she has been wronged by “a rich man,” and a

short time since another Miss Macdonald, on being arraigned

before Mr. Newton, flung a bottle at the head of that

learned magistrate. Ethel was discharged, but it was ordered

that she should be sent to the workhouse for inquiries to be

made into her state of mind.’]

The Adventures of Quicksilver Ali of Cairo.—This story is of the same

nature as the preceding one, and in all the editions of the ‘Nights’

the one always follows the other, while in the Breslau text the two

stories run together. Ali begins life at Cairo, and ends at Baghdad,

where his tricks and adventures follow each other in rapid succession,

his object being to obtain in marriage the hand of Zeynab, the

daughter of Dalilah the Crafty. He is first tricked himself by Zeynab,

but continues his pursuit of her, and though at times he is

transformed into the shapes of an ass, a bear, and a dog by the magic

arts of Azariah the Jew, eventually he succeeds, with the aid of the

Jew’s daughter, in obtaining the property required, and finally

marries Zeynab, the Jewess, and two other women.

Hasan of Busra and the King’s Daughter of the Jinn.—This is a good

specimen of a real Oriental romance, with the wonderful and marvellous

adventures of the hero interlaced with magic, alchemy, the Jinns, and

other fabulous varieties, so that the highest ideals of the

imagination are almost arrived at.

Bahram the Magician, who first beguiles Hasan with alchemy and then

carries him off and endeavours to destroy him, is himself destroyed in

the early part of the story. The kindness of the seven princesses to

Hasan during his stay with them, and his visits to them later on, are

described at length, as also is the way in which the hero falls

desperately in love with the king’s daughter of the Jinn, and secures

her as his bride. The happy pair start for Busra, and rejoin his

mother, and then settle down in Baghdad, where two sons are born and

happiness reigns supreme. But during Hasan’s absence on a visit to his

former friends the seven princesses, some domestic scenes between his

wife, his mother, and Zobeidah, the spouse of the Khalif

Harun-ar-Rashid, are introduced, which end by the wife re-possessing

herself of her original feather garment, and flying off with her two

children to the islands of Wac, where her father and family resided.

On his return Hasan is broken-hearted to find her gone, and determines

to set out and try and recover her. Then follows the description of

his journeys, which fill pages describing the white country, and the

black mountain, the land of camphor, and the castle of crystal. The

islands of Wac were seven in number, peopled by Satans and Marids, and

warlocks and tribesmen of the Jinn. To reach them Hasan has to

traverse the island of birds, the land of beasts, and the valley of

Jinn. Without the aid of the princesses, their uncle Abdul-cuddous,

Abourruweish, Dehnesh ben Fectesh, Hassoun, king of the land of

Camphor, and the old woman Shawahi, he never would have reached his

destination. This, however, he finally does, and with the aid of a

magic cup and wand recovers his wife and children, and returns with

them to Baghdad, where they live happily ever afterwards, till there

came to them the Creditor whose debt must always be paid sooner or

later, the Destroyer of delights, and the Severer of societies.

Ali Nur Al-din and Miriam the Girdle-Girl (called by Payne, the Frank

King’s Daughter).—The adventures of Ali with Miriam, whom he first

buys as a slave-girl in Alexandria, and from whom he is separated and

re-united, again separated and again united, are told at some length.

But the principal features in this tale are the innumerable verses in

praise of various fruits, flowers, wine, women, musical instruments,

the beauty of the hero, etc., and on the subjects of love, union,

separation, etc. Miriam herself is a charming character of

self-reliance and independence. On her first appearance in the slave

market, at the time of her sale, she declines to be purchased by the

old men, and abuses their age and their infirmities. Indeed, she

seemed to be of the same opinion as our great national poet, who

wrote:

‘Crabbed age and youth

Cannot live together;

Youth is full of plaisance,

Age is full of care;

Youth like summer morn,

Age like winter weather;

Youth like summer brave,

Age like winter bare.

Youth is full of sport,

Age’s breath is short,

Youth is nimble, age is lame;

Youth is hot and bold,

Age is weak and cold,

Youth is wild and age is tame.

Age, I do abhor thee;

Youth, I do adore thee;

O my love, my love is young;

Age, I do defy thee,

O sweet shepherd, hie thee,

For methinks thou stay’st too long’.

However, she finally consents to be bought by the young and

good-looking Ali, who spends his last thousand dinars in her purchase,

and then has nothing to live upon. Miriam remedies this by making every

night a beautiful girdle, which Ali sells for a good price in the

bazaar next day. This goes on for upwards of a year, when the first

separation is brought about by the crafty old Wazir of her father, the

King of France, who had sent him especially to look for his daughter.

In the course of the adventures that follow, Miriam shows her capacity

in sailing ships and in killing various men, among others her three

brothers, who pursued her in her last flight from her father’s city.

Eventually she and Ali get to Baghdad, where the Khalif makes things

smooth for them, and they are married, and finally return to Cairo to

rejoin Ali’s parents, from whom he had run away in his youth.

Kamar Al-Zaman and the Jeweller’s Wife is one of the modern tales of

the ‘Nights,’ and a very good one, containing a good plot and plenty

of interesting incidents. The jeweller’s wife, Halimah by name, is one

of the wickedest and craftiest of women in Busra, and her plots and

intrigues are well described; some of them are to be found in Persian

story-books. After playing all sorts of tricks, she leaves her

husband, and elopes with the youth Kamar to Cairo, where his parents

reside. There his father will not let him marry her, but confines her

and her slave-girl in a room, and arranges a marriage for his son with

another woman. After a time Halimah’s husband, Obayd, the jeweller,

turns up in Cairo in the most beggarly plight, having been plundered

by Bedouins en route. After explanations, Obayd ends by killing

his wife and her slave-girl, who had assisted her in all her

devilries, and Kanar’s father marries him to his daughter, who turns

out the most virtuous of women. The moral of the tale is pointed out

at the end, that there are both bad women and good women in the world,

and is closed with the remark: ‘So he who deemeth all women to be

alike, there is no remedy for the disease of his insanity.’

Ma’aruf the Cobbler and his wife Fatimah commences with a domestic

scene between the two, from which it appears that the poor husband had

been shamefully sat upon from the day of his marriage, and that his

wife was a dreadful woman. Affairs, however, at last reach a climax,

and Ma’aruf seeks peace and safety in flight. Balzac, in his clever

novel of ‘Le Contrat de Mariage,’ makes his hero Manerville fly from

the machinations of his wife and mother-in-law, but Henri de Marsay,

writing to his friend pages on the subject, contends that he is wrong,

and points out to him the course that he should have followed. Anyhow,

in Ma’aruf the Cobbler’s case, the result is satisfactory. Arriving by

the aid of a Jinn at a far-away city, he found a friend, who directed

him how to behave, and to tell everybody that he was a great and

wealthy merchant, but that his merchandise was still on the way, and

expected daily. Pending the arrival of his baggage-train, Ma’aruf

borrowed from everybody, gave it all away in largesse to the poor, and

behaved generally as if he were very well-to-do. By these means he

made such an impression on the King of the place that the latter

married him to his daughter, and made large advances from the treasury

in anticipation of the arrival of the merchandise.

Time goes on, but still the baggage does not turn up. The King,

instigated by his Wazir, becomes suspicious, and persuades his

daughter to worm out the real story from her husband. This she does in

a clever way, and Ma’aruf tells her his true history. The woman

behaves admirably, refuses to expose his vagaries, and, giving him

fifty thousand dinars, advises him to fly to a foreign country, to

begin to trade there, and to keep her informed of his whereabouts and

the turn of his fortunes. The Cobbler departs during the night, while

his wife the next morning tells the King and the Wazir a long

rigmarole story of how her husband had been summoned by his servants,

who had informed him that his baggage-train and merchandise had been

attacked by the Arabs, and that he had gone himself to look after his

affairs.

Meanwhile Ma’aruf departs sore at heart, weeping bitterly, and, like

all ‘Arabian Nights’ heroes in adversity, repeating countless verses.

After various adventures he falls in with a vast treasure, and a

casket containing a seal ring of gold, which, when rubbed, causes the

slave of the seal ring, naturally a Jinn, to appear and carry out

every wish and order that Ma’aruf might give him. With the aid, then,

of the Jinn, Abu Al-Saddat by name, the Cobbler returns to his wife

laden with treasure and merchandise, and thus proves to all the

doubters that he is a true man. He pays all his debts, gives a great

deal to the poor, and bestows presents of an enormous value on his

wife, her attendants, and all the people of the Court.

As a matter of course, all this prosperity is followed by adversity.

The King and his Wazir combine together, and ask Ma’aruf to a

garden-party, make him drunk, and get him to relate the story of his

success. Recklessly he shows the ring to the Wazir, who gets hold of

it, rubs it, and on the appearance of the slave of the ring, orders him

to carry off the Cobbler and cast him down in the desert. The Wazir then

orders the King to be treated in the same way, while he himself seizes

the Sultanate, and aspires to marry Ma’aruf’s wife, the King’s

daughter.

With much interesting detail the story relates how the Princess Dunya

gets the ring into her possession, sends the Wazir to prison, and

rescues her father and her husband from the desert. The Wazir is then

put to death, and the ring is kept by the lady, as she thinks it would

be safer in her keeping than in that of her relations. After this a

son is born, the King dies, Ma’aruf succeeds to the throne, and

shortly after loses his wife, who before her death gives him back the

ring, and urges him to take good care of it for his own sake and for

the sake of his boy.

Time goes on, and the Cobbler’s first wife, Fatimah, turns up in town,

brought there also by a Jinn, and tells the story of the want and

suffering she had undergone since his departure from Cairo. Ma’aruf

treats her generously, and sets her up in a palace with a separate

establishment, but the wickedness of the woman reappears, and she

tries to get hold of the ring for her own purposes. Just as she has

secured it she is cut down and killed on the spot by Ma’aruf’s son,

who had been watching her proceedings, and is thus finally disposed

of. The King and his son then marry, and live happily in the manner of

Eastern story, all the other characters being properly provided for.

So much for the ‘Nights’ proper. Other stories translated from the

Breslau text (a Tunisian manuscript acquired, collated and translated

by Professor Habicht, of Breslau, Von der Hagen, and another; 15

volumes, 12mo., Breslau, 1825), the Calcutta fragment of 1814-1818,

and other sources, have been given by Payne in three extra volumes

entitled ‘Tales from the Arabic,’ and by Burton in two of his six

volumes of the ‘Supplemental Nights.’ Payne’s three books and Burton’s

two first volumes follow the same lines. They both contain twenty

principal, and sixty-four subordinate stories, or eighty-four

altogether, divided into nine short stories and seventy-five longer

ones. Some of them are very interesting, and some are amusing,

especially a few of the sixteen Constables’ Stories, which describe

the cleverness of women, and the adroitness of thieves, and people of

that class. It is probable that these are more or less of a modern

date.

The first story in this collection, called ‘The Sleeper and the

Waker,’ commonly known as ‘The Sleeper Awakened,’ is good, and also

particularly interesting as one of Galland’s stories not traced at the

time, but afterwards turning up in the Tunis text of the ‘Nights.’

The third volume of Burton’s ‘Supplemental Nights’ is one of the most

interesting of the whole lot. It contains eight principal and four

subordinate stories of Galland’s ‘Contes Arabes,’ which are not

included in the Calcutta, Boulak, or Breslau editions of the ‘Nights.’

For many years the sources from which Galland procured these tales

were unknown. Some said that he invented them himself. Others

conjectured that he got them from the story-tellers in Constantinople

and other places in the East. But in A.D. 1886 Mr. H. Zotenberg, the

keeper of Eastern Manuscripts in the Bibliothèque Nationale at Paris,

obtained a manuscript copy of the “Nights,” which contained the Arabic

originals of the stories of “Zayn Al Asnam,” and of “Aladdin,” two of

Galland’s best stories. This was a very valuable acquisition, for it

sets at rest the doubts that had always been expressed about the

origin of these two tales, and also leads to the supposition that the

Arabic originals of the other stories will also turn up some day.

Of these eight principal and four subordinate stories of Galland,

those of “Aladdin; or, The Wonderful Lamp,” and of “Ali Baba and the

Forty Thieves,” have ever been most popular tales, and have been

appreciated by many generations from the time that Galland first

introduced them to Europe. But some of the other stories are equally

good, and all are worth reading, as Burton has not only taken Galland

as a guide, but has also adapted his own translation from the

Hindustani version of the Gallandian tales, prepared by one Totárám

Shayán, whose texts of the “Nights,” along with those of others, are

fully discussed. By this method Burton endeavoured to preserve the

Oriental flavour of the work itself, without introducing too much

French sauce.

After the discovery of the Arabic original of the stories of

“Zayn Al-Asnam” and “Aladdin,” Payne recognized its importance, and

published his translation of these two tales in a separate volume in

1889, which forms a sort of appendix to his previously issued twelve

volumes. This thirteenth book contains also an interesting introduction,

giving a résumé of Mr. Zotenberg’s work, published at Paris in 1888,

and which contains the Arab text of the story of Aladdin, along with

an exhaustive notice of certain manuscripts of the “Thousand and One

Nights,” and of Galland’s translation.

The fourth and fifth volumes of Burton’s “Supplemental Nights” contain

certain new stories from an Arabic manuscript of the “Nights” in seven

volumes, brought to Europe by Edward Wortley Montague, Esq., and

bought at the sale of his library by Dr. Joseph White, Professor of

Hebrew and Arabic at Oxford, from whom it passed into the hands of Dr.

Jonathan Scott, who sold it to the Bodleian Library, at Oxford, for

fifty pounds.

Wortley Montague’s manuscript contains many additional tales not

included in the Calcutta, Boulak, or Breslau editions, and these

additional stories Burton has now translated. It is uncertain how or

where Wortley Montague obtained his copy of the ‘Thousand and One

Nights.’ Dr. White had at one time intended to translate the whole

lot, but this was never accomplished. Jonathan Scott did, however,

translate some of the stories, which were published in the sixth

volume of his ‘Arabian Nights Entertainment’ in A.D. 1811, but the

work was badly and incompletely done. It has now been thoroughly

revised and put into better form by Burton in these two volumes.

In Appendix I. to Volume V. there is a catalogue of the contents of

the Wortley Montague MS., which is very interesting, as it contains

not only a description of the manuscript itself, but also a complete

list of the tales making up the “Thousand and One Nights,” many of

which are, of course, to be found in the “Nights” proper.

These two supplemental volumes contain 25 principal and 31 subordinate

stories, or 56 in all. Some of them are very amusing, especially the

tales of the Larrikins, while the whole add to our knowledge of this

vast répertoire of tales from the East, which has been gradually

brought to the notice of Europe during the last one hundred and

eighty-five years.

Burton’s sixth supplemental volume contains certain stories taken from

a book of Arabian tales, a continuation of the ‘Arabian Nights

Entertainment,’ brought out by Dom Chavis, a Syrian priest, and

eventually teacher of Arabic at the University of Paris, and Mr.

Jacques Cazotte, a well-known French littérateur, unfortunately and

unjustly guillotined in Paris on the 25th September, 1792, at the time

of the Revolution.

This work, sometimes called ‘The New Arabian Nights,’ is an imitation

of Galland’s marvellous production, and may be considered a sort of

continuation of it. Dom Chavis brought the manuscripts to France, and

agreed with Mr. Cazotte to collaborate, the former translating the

Arabic into French, and the latter metamorphosing the manner and

matter to the style and taste of the day. The work first appeared in

1788-89, and was translated into English in 1792.

Burton, in his Foreword to this volume, gives a full account of these

stories, as translated and edited by Chavis and Cazotte. He himself

gives a translation of eight of them, one of which, The Linguist, the

Duenna, and the King’s Son, is interesting, as it contains a series of

conundrums, questions and answers, which may remind the reader of the

story of Abu Al-Husn and his slave-girl Tawaddud, in the ‘Nights’

proper, and of the history of Al-Hajjaj bin Yusuf and the young

Sayyid, from the Wortley Montague MS. In addition to the eight

translated stories, the sixth volume contains a great deal of matter

in the shape of appendices, such as—Notes on Zotenberg’s work on

Aladdin and on various manuscripts of the ‘Nights’; Biography of the

work and its Reviewers Reviewed; Opinions of the Press, etc.; but

though well worthy of perusal by the curious, space does not allow of

further allusions to them here.

To sum up, then, shortly, Payne’s thirteen volumes contain 193

principal, and 159 subordinate stories, or 352 in all, while Burton’s

sixteen volumes contain 231 principal, and 195 subordinate stories, or

426 altogether. These numerous stories, translated from the Calcutta

(1814-18), Calcutta Macnaghten (1839-42), Boulak (Cairo, 1835-36),

Breslau (Tunis), Wortley Montague, Galland and Chavis texts may be

considered to form what is commonly called ‘The Arabian Nights

Entertainment.’ They date from A.D. 750, which may be considered as

the year of their commencement and that of the Abbaside dynasty, and

go on, continually added to, up to A.D. 1600, or even later. Many

authors have had a hand in the work, the stories themselves having

been derived from Indian, Persian, Arabian, Egyptian, Syrian and

Grecian sources, and adapted, more or less, for Arab readers and

hearers. And as the manuscripts in some of these stories in different

countries do not in any way tally, it must be supposed that no such

work as an original copy of the ‘Thousand and One Nights’ has ever

been in existence. The repertoire, consisting of a few stories at

first, has gradually grown to such a size that now it may almost be

considered to contain the largest and best collection of stories that

the world has, as yet seen.

Mention has been already made in a previous page of the ‘Kathá Sarit

Ságara,’ or Ocean of the Streams of Story, and a brief description of

this work was given in the third chapter of ‘Early Ideas’ (A.D. 1881).

Since then a complete translation of the ‘Kathá’ has been made by

Professor C.H. Tawney, of the Calcutta College, and it has been

published in fourteen fasciculi, in the ‘Bibliotheca Indica,’ by the

Asiatic Society of Bengal, 1880-1887. It is to be regretted, for the

sake of the student and the anthropologist, that the translation is

presented in an expurgated form. Still, the Professor has done his

work (and a long and tedious work it must have been) excessively well,

while many of his notes, corrigenda and addenda are most interesting.

The ‘Arabian Nights’ and the ‘Kathá Sarit Ságara’ occupy respectively

the same position in Arabic and Hindoo literature. They are both

collections of tales adapted to the people of the country for which

they have been written. A perusal of both the works will show how much

they differ. The characters and ideas of the heroes and heroines,

their thoughts, reflections, speeches, surroundings, and situations

are worth studying in the two books as an exposition of the manners

and customs, ideas and habits of two distinct peoples. The Hindoo

characters, as depicted in their story-book, will be found to be

duller, heavier, more reverential, and more superstitious than the

characters in the ‘Nights.’ There are two things, however, common to

the two books: the power of destiny, and the power of love, against

which it is apparently useless to struggle.

While there are 426 stories in Burton’s ‘Nights,’ there are 330 tales

of sorts in Tawney’s ‘Kathá.’ Both works are rather formidable as

regards size and quantity of matter; still, after a start has been

fairly made, the interest goes on increasing in a wonderful way, until

at last one becomes absorbed and interested to a degree that can

scarcely be imagined.

The stories in the ‘Kathá Sarit Ságara’ are supposed to have been

originally composed by one Gunádhya, in the Paisacha language, and

made known in Sanscrit under the title of ‘Vrihat Kathá,’ or Great

Tale. From this work one Bhatta Somadeva, in the eleventh century

A.D., prepared the work now known as the ‘Kathá Sarit Ságara,’ but

probably stories have been added to it since. At present it consists

of eighteen books, divided into one hundred and twenty-four chapters,

and containing three hundred and thirty stories, along with other

matter. Of Gunádhya, the supposed original author, not much is known,

but Vatsyayana, in his ‘Kama Sutra’ (printed privately for the Kama

Shastra Society) mentions the name of Gunádhya as a writer whose works

he had consulted, and gives frequent quotations from them in his

chapter on the duties of a wife. The exact date of Vatsyayana’s life

is also uncertain; some time not earlier than the first century B.C.,

and not later than the sixth century A.D., is considered to be the

approximate period of his existence.

Like the ‘Arabian Nights,’ it is highly probable that the ‘Kathá’ grew

by degrees to its present size. Gunádhya’s original work is apparently

not now extant. Between the time it was written and the time that

Somadeva produced his edition of it, many stories may have been added,

and the same process may have continued afterwards. Somadeva, however,

says: ‘I compose this collection, which contains the pith of the

“Vrihat Kathá.”’ Again he writes: ‘This book is precisely on the model

of that from which it is taken; there is not the slightest deviation;

only such language is selected as tends to abridge the prolixity of

the work; the observance of propriety and natural connection, and the

joining together of the portions of the poem so as not to interfere

with the spirit of the stories, are as far as possible kept in view. I

have not made this attempt through desire of a reputation for

ingenuity, but in order to facilitate the recollection of a multitude

of various tales.’

The ‘Kathá Sarit Ságara’ contains many stories now existing in the

‘Pancha Tantra,’ or Five Chapters, in the ‘Hitopodesa,’ or Friendly

Advice, in the ‘Baital Pachesi,’ or Twenty-five Stories of a Demon,

and other Indian story-books. Owing to the total absence of dates it

is difficult to determine from what sources all these stories were

collected. But as some of the same fables and animal stories are to be

found in the ‘Buddhist Birth Stories,’ or Játaka Tales, in the

‘Arabian Nights,’ and in the ‘Kathá,’ it may fairly be conjectured

that stories of this nature were in early years in considerable

circulation, and used as a means of conveying wisdom and advice both

to the classes and to the masses in those prehistoric times.

To return to Arab story-books. Mention must be made of ‘Antar,’ a

Bedouin romance, which has been partially translated from the Arabic

into English by Terrick Hamilton, Secretary to the British Embassy at

Constantinople, and published in London (1820). Mr. Clouston, in his

‘Arabian Poetry for English Readers,’ Glasgow, 1881, has given an

abstract of the story, with some specimens of translations from the

original.

The work itself is generally supposed to have been written by

Al-Asmai, the philologist and grammarian (born A.D. 740, died A.D.

831), who flourished at the court of Harun-ar-Rashid, and was a great

celebrity in his time. It is probable that many of the stories told

about Antar and his wonderful deeds came down orally and traditionally

to Al-Asmai, who embellished them with his own imagination, aided by a

wonderful knowledge of the language and idioms used by the Arabs in

their desert wilds.

Antar is the hero, and Abla the heroine, of the romance. Antar himself

is supposed to have lived during the sixth century A.D., and to have

been the author of one of the seven famous poems suspended at Mecca,

and known as the Mua’llakat. Besides this he was distinguished as a

great warrior, whose deeds of daring were quite marvellous. The

translator had intended to divide the work into three parts. The first

ends with the marriage of Antar and Abla, to attain which many

difficulties had to be overcome. The second part includes the period

when Antar suspends his poem at Mecca, also a work of considerable

difficulty. The third part gives the hero’s travels, conquests, and

death. Mr. Hamilton only translated and published the first part of

the three, and the two others have not yet been done into English.

The romance of Antar, though tedious, is interesting, as it gives full

details of the life of the Arabs before Muhammad’s time, and even

after, for the Arab life of to-day is apparently much the same as it

was three thousand years ago. It appears to be an existence made up of

continual wanderings, constant feud and faction, and perpetual

struggles for food, independence and plunder. But in the deserts on

the frontiers of Syria, Palestine, Mesopotamia and Baghdad, it is said

that the various tribes are now kept much more in subjection by the

Turks, owing to the introduction of the breech-loader, against which

the Arab and his matchlock and his peculiar mode of warfare is

somewhat powerless.

While the ‘Arabian Nights’ are supposed to treat more of the

inhabitants of the towns, the romance of Antar deals more with the

inhabitants of the desert. To the student of the Arabic language both

works are interesting, as they occupy a prominent and standard place

in Arabian literature, and afford much information about the manners

and customs, ideas and peculiarities of an ancient and interesting

race of people. It must be admitted that both Antar and the ‘Arabian

Nights’ are so long that they rather try the patience of readers not

particularly interested in them. Nowadays in England the daily press

supplies such a mass of information of all sorts in connection with

every branch of society, that a constant and persistent reader of our

daily and weekly newspapers can find in them quite an ‘Arabian Nights

Entertainment’ without going further afield. Indeed, the stories

concerning the cures effected by certain patent medicines are as

wonderful as anything one ever reads in the ‘Nights’ themselves.

And in addition to the realities and actualities of life, as daily

told in our newspapers and law reports, many of which do certainly

prove that fact is stranger than fiction, there are numerous writers

who keep the public supplied with tales and stories of every kind and

description. And from the great demand for such productions, whether

issued as the penny dreadful, the thrilling story, or the regulation

romance in three volumes, one conclusion can only be drawn, which

is—that the human mind, everywhere in the East, West, North and South,

is always anxious to be fed or amused with something startling or

romantic, dreadful or improbable, exciting or depressing.

It is to be presumed, then, that the ‘Nights’ filled the vacuum in the

minds of the people of that day in the East, much the same as the

books and newspapers of our time satisfy the cravings of the

humanities of the West, who still seem to be ever in search of

something new, even if not true; something original, even if not

trustworthy. Human nature appears to be much the same in all ages and

at all times, and the scandals connected with high persons, the

memoirs and reminiscences of celebrated ones, and the good sayings of

witty ones, have always found much favour with the public generally,

whether told as stories, published as books, or printed in the papers.

Arabic literature abounds with biographical details and stories about

celebrated and distinguished men. It was always the custom and fashion

to fill their works with much information of the kind. The same

fashion appears to exist in England at the present time, with this

advantage, however, that we now get all the details and stories direct

from the heroes themselves, and during their lifetime.