Volume 1 / Part 3 — PART III.

CONCLUSION.

§ General appreciation of the Dabistan and its Author.

Mohsan Fáni collected in the Dabistán, as I hope to have shown by a rapid review of its principal contents, various important information concerning religions of different times and countries. His accounts are generally clear, explicit, and deserving clxxx confidence; they agree in the most material points with those of other accredited authors. Thus, to quote one more instance, the accuracy of his topographic information relative to the marvellous fountain in Kachmir is in the main confirmed by that published by Bernier who had visited the country. Our author enlivens his text by interesting quotations from the works of famous poets and philosophers, and by frequent references to books which deserve to be known. I beg to mention the Tabsaret al âvam, “Rendering quick-sighted the Vulgar,” which he regrets not to have before his eyes. His whole work is interspersed with anecdotes and sayings, characteristic of individuals and sects which existed in his times. To what he relates from personal observation or other sources, he frequently adds reflections of his own, which evince a sagacious and enlightened mind. Thus, he exhibits in himself an interesting example of Asiatic erudition and philosophy.

The Dabistán adds, if I am not mistaken, not only a few ideas to our historical knowledge, but also some features to the picture which we hitherto possessed of the Asiatics. May I be permitted to quote a remarkable instance relative to the latter? We are wont to speak of the inherent apathy and stationary condition of the Muhammedans, as an effect of their legislation. Although this general idea clxxxi of their character and state be not unfounded, yet it is carried to such an exaggerated degree, that we think them incapable of progress. We may therefore be astonished to find in the work before us[206] a maxim such as this: “He who does not proceed, retrogrades,” and beside a declaration attributed to Muhammed himself: “He whose days are alike is deceived.” Our author, it is true, interprets it in the particular point of view of an orthodox Súfi, who thinks that there is a degree of mental perfection, beyond which it is impossible to rise: this was, he says, the state of Muhammed, the prophet, always the same, from which no ascent nor descent was possible, the perfection of unity with God, higher than whom nothing can be: the blackness beyond which no color can go. With the exception of these fits of mysticism, now and then occurring, it is just to say that Mohsan Fani most commonly leans to the side of progressive reform.

For the just appreciation of his work, I think it necessary to point out another opinion, which, very generally entertained, requires to be considerably modified: I mean that which attributes to the Muhammedans an unrestrained intolerance in religious matters. On that account, I beg to refer directly to the book, which to them always was the sacred source of all rules and precepts of conduct—the clxxxii Koran. In this astonishing farrago of truth and falsehood, we find here and there a great extent of toleration. In fact, Muhammedism was eclectic in all the religious ideas of its time, Magian, Jewish, and Christian. Muhammed avowed himself to be “a man like every body;”[207] he did not pretend, that “the treasures of God were in his power,” nor did he say “that he knew the secrets of God, neither that he was an angel; no; he thought only to follow what was revealed to him,”[208] so much every body else may say and think, He professed his good-will to Christians, “as inclinable to entertain friendship for the true believers;[209] he exhorted his followers not to dispute, but in the mildest manner,[210] against those who have received the Scripture, and wished to come to a just determination between both parties, that they all worshipped not any but God.”[211]—“Abraham,” said he, “was neither a Jew nor a Christian, but one resigned unto God (Moslim); excellence is in the hand of God; he gives it unto whom he pleaseth.”[212]—Still more; the prophet seems to give a general license to the professors of every clxxxiii religion to observe certain rites about which he prohibits all disputes;[213] nay, he declares: “If the Lord had pleased, verily, all who are in the earth would have believed in general. Wilt thou therefore forcibly compel men to be true believers? No soul can believe but by the permission of God.”[214]

Although the Arabian prophet and his followers too often gave by their conduct a strong denial to these principles, still the existence of them in the Koran was a sanction to all those who were disposed to profess them in words and actions. Such sentiments of religious toleration are in accordance with similar ones expressed in many Christian moral treatises, but in none of the latter do I remember to have read: “that the diversities of religions distributed among nations, according to the exigency of each, are manifestations of the divine light and power, and that these various forms, by which God’s inscrutable essence may be viewed by glimpses, are means of possessing eternal beatitude, whilst here below the acquisition of knowledge is sufficient to insure to mankind the enjoyment of concord, friendship, and agreeable intercourse.”[215]

These appear to be the maxims adopted by the clxxxiv Súfis, and particularly by those among them who, under Akbar, professed to be Ilahians. The creed of this class exists in our days, although the name has not survived. To these we may suppose, if to any, Mohsan Fáni belonged. If we could agree with Erskine that “he was in strict intimacy with the sect of enthusiasts by whom the Desátir was venerated,” we should still be obliged to avow, that his enthusiasm had not in the least influenced his free judgment upon religious matters. His imagination although justly exalted by sublime notions of the Divinity, certainly appears now and then bewildered by the mysterious action of unknown causes; but on other occasions pointing out, in a satirical vein, so many follies, absurdities, and extravagances prevailing among mankind, he seems to laugh at all enthusiasm whatsoever, his own not excepted. In general, there breathes in his words a spirit of independence, which would command attention even among us in the accustomed circle of long-established liberty. His boldness in religious controversy startled even sir W. Jones so much that, in characterising it by the harsh term of blasphemy, the English judge appears for a moment ready to plead for the abettors of popular superstition, who stood confounded before the tribunal of the philosophic Akbar.

I shall however not conceal, that Mohsan Fani clxxxv sometimes paid tribute to the prevailing ignorance and inveterate prejudices of his time, and above all, to the sovereign power of early impressions; nor that, although in many respects he offers in himself an honorable exception to the general character of his countrymen, he now and then confounds himself with them. Thus, he was far from being above all popular superstition. The Asiatic, from the dawn of his reason, is nourished with the marvellous, trained to credulity, and prepared for mysticism, the bane of practical life; in short, he imbibes from his infancy a superstition from which he never frees himself, always prone to interpret every unusual phenomenon as a miracle. No sort of study enables him to correct his first impressions, or to enlighten his ignorance; natural history and experimental philosophy are not cultivated in Asia. If not an agriculturist, mechanic, tradesman, or soldier, he devotes himself to the intricacies of metaphysics, and very commonly to a contemplative life; he becomes an ascetic. Thus he knows no social life embellished by the refinement of mutual sympathy, nor the noble vocations of a citizen who lives—with more than one life in himself, in others, and in the whole community. Such being the general state of Asia, let us not wonder that Mohsan Fani believed some strange stories of miracles, and viewed with astonishment tricks of jugglers, which he relates clxxxvi with serious credulity, strangely contrasting with his usual good sense, sagacity, and judgment. Thus, he presents to us a man standing on his head with his heels in the air during a whole night; others restraining their breath many hours, and remaining immoveable during two or three days; he speaks of the miraculous effects of austerity, such as being in different places at the same time; resuscitating the dead; understanding the language of animals, vegetables, and minerals; walking on the surface of water, and through fire and air; commanding the elements; leaving and reassuming the body; and the like. But let us not forget that such stories were told elsewhere, and in Europe, even so late as the time in which the Dabistán was written.

Further, although generally moral and judicious in his sentences, grave and austere in his views, fervent and exalted in devout contemplation, our author now and then happens to use the language of ribaldry and indecency, which deserves serious reprobation. We shall however remark that taste, or the sense of propriety in words and expressions among Asiatics differs, as much as their general civilisation, from ours. From religious austerity they banished the elegant arts, as objects of sensuality; but, as they could not stifle this essential part of human nature, they only prevented its useful refinement; they clipt the delicate flower, but left clxxxvii the brute part of it: hence the grossness of their jokes, expressions, and images. “To sacrifice to the graces” is, among them, not understood at all, or thought an abomination. But they cannot be said to violate laws which they do not know; the offence which they give from want of taste and decency, is purely unintentional, and cannot with them have that evil effect which, among us, it would be likely to produce.

As to the general style of the Dabistán—it is only in the original text itself, that it can be justly appreciated. It will perhaps sufficiently appear from our translation that it distinguishes itself favorably among other Oriental works with which it may be compared. The diction is generally free from their usual bombast; it is commonly clear, and when obscure to an European reader, it is so on account of the strangeness and abstruseness of the matter treated. As to form—if judged according to the rules of Western criticism, the work of Mohsan Fani may be found deficient in the distribution and arrangement of matter; there are useless repetitions, incoherences, disorder, abrupt digressions, and excess, sonetimes of prolixity, at others of concision. Although we have reason to praise him for generally naming the source from which he drew his information, still we can but regret, now and then, his not sufficiently authenticating nor explaining the clxxxviii particulars which he relates. Thus we could wish him to have been more explicit concerning the Desátir. Upon the whole, we cannot accuse him of not having performed what, in his time and circumstances, was hardly possible, and what hitherto no Asiatic author has achieved. We ought to keep in mind how much, with respect to the perfection of literary publications, we owe solely to the art of printing, the practice of which, by its own nature, necessitates and facilitates a manifold revision and correction of the text, which otherwise could hardly take place. This alone sufficiently accounts for the frequent defects even of the best manuscript works.

Striking an equitable balance between faults and excellencies, and with particular regard to the abundance of curious, useful, and important information, I shall not hesitate to express my sincere persuasion, that the Dabistán was worthy of the eulogy bestowed by the great Orientalist who first brought it into public notice.

§ II.—Notice concerning the printed edition, some manuscripts, and the translations of the Dabistan.

It is well known, that the only printed edition of the clxxxix Dabistán which exists is due to the press of Calcutta. At the end of the work will be found the Epilogue of the editor, Moulavi Nazer Ushruf, a learned Muhammedan gentleman of the district of Juanpur, who was for many years employed in judicial offices in the district of Burdwan, and in the court of Sudder Diwani Adawlet, in Calcutta. These particulars were communicated to me by the favor of the honorable gentleman whose name the said editor mentions in his Epilogue with encomium, the sincerity of which can certainly not be questioned: it was William Butterworth Bayley, at present director and chairman of the Honorable East India Company. It was he, a distinguished Persian scholar, who directed and superintended the edition of the Dabistán. Upon the strength of his authority I am enabled to add, that the printed copy was the result of a careful collation of several manuscript copies of this work. One was obtained from Delhi (as mentioned in the epilogue), and another from Bombay; two or three were in the possession of natives in Calcutta. Although these, as it is more or less the case with all manuscripts, procurable in India, were defective, yet we may believe the assurance given by the editor, that “the doubts and faults have been as much as possible discarded, and the edition carried to a manifest accuracy.” This is confirmed by the fact, that only a few discrepancies cxc from the printed edition were found in two other manuscripts, which were in England at the disposition of the late David Shea for the translation of the first part of the Dabistán. Nor did I find frequent deviations from the printed text in the copy which was transcribed for me in Calcutta from a manuscript, procured from the library of the king of Oude. Mutilated in many places, and imperfect as is this latter, it afforded me nevertheless a few acceptable readings. I was obliged to content myself with the assistance of this only manuscript for the translation, as several circumstances, among which was the lamented death of the earl of Munster, prevented me from obtaining the use of other manuscript copies. All circumtances considered, I do not hesitate to say, that the printed edition of the Dabistán is more correct than any of the manuscript copies which can be found; we have only to regret that its typography, owing to the then imperfect state of the Oriental press in Calcutta, is so irregular, as to be scarce entitled to any preference over the common sort of Persian manuscripts.

The English translation of the Dabistán was begun some time before the year 1835, by David Shea, one of the professors of Oriental languages at Hayleybury. He was in his early years distinguished in the university of Dublin for his classical attainments, and remained devoted to literature in all the various cxci circumstances of his life. It was not for, nor in, India—the great object and school of English students—but in Malta, from peculiar inducement, that, by uncommon application, he acquired the Arabic and Persian languages. After his return to England, having been attached to the Hayleybury college—I should not fail to add to his eulogy by saying, that he had before won the kind interest and recommendation of sir Graves Haughton—and having become a member of the committee of the Oriental Translation Fund, he earned the applause of Orientalists in England, and on the continent of Europe, by his faithful and spirited translation of Mirkhond’s history of the early kings of Persia. Undertaking the translation of the Dabistán, he was undoubtedly preparing to himself a new success, the full realisation of which he was not permitted to enjoy; the last date in his manuscript copy, in which he was wont to mark the progress of his labor, was April 22, 1835. From this day he appears to have withdrawn his hand from the Dabistán, and too soon after—I shall be permitted to use the very words of the author whom he was translating:[216]

It was in the beginning of the year 1837 that I cxcii was honored by the earl of Munster, the vice president of the Royal Asiatic Society of Great Britain and Ireland, with the proposal of completing and editing the English Dabistán. Having already several years before been occupied with the same work whilst pursuing my Indian studies, I was so much the more prompted to accept the proffered honor. Engaged however as I then was in publishing my French translation of the first six books of the Rajatarangini from the Sanscrit, I could not begin the new work before 1841. This delay was the cause of my being deprived of the desired honor and satisfaction of presenting my translation to the earl of Munster, who while in the full enjoyment of life, welcomed with a benevolent interest every contribution, however small, to the general diffusion of Oriental history and literature; he had accepted in Paris my Dedication a short time before his death; it remains to me to consecrate, with a profound feeling of regret and veneration for departed worth, the English Dabistán to his memory.

I took charge of the manuscript copy of David Shea’s version, which had been carried to page 201 of the printed Calcutta edition.[217] In this there were only a few omissions to be supplied, and no other rectifications to be made but those which a second review would have suggested to my learned predecessor cxciii himself; his notes, and those which I thought necessary to add, are marked each with the initials of our respective names.

If I found little to change, I had much to imitate in David Shea’s translation—his faithfulness and clearness. By faithfulness I understand not only expressing truly the sense, but also keeping unaltered the words, figures, images, and phrases of the original, as it is in them that the author’s national and individual peculiarity is manifested. This sort of faithfulness may roughen or hamper the phrase, destroy the elegance of style, and even offend good taste, but by it alone we shall not only know, as I have just observed, the genius of the foreign writer, but also satisfy the exigencies of philology, which is one of the main purposes of translations not undertaken as mere exercises of improvable eloquence.

An author will not employ more or other words than those he thinks necessary for being understood by readers of his own nation, religion, school; he writes, for instance, as a Muhammedan for Muhammedans, a Súfi for Súfis. But a translator must do his best for uniting faithfulness with clearness, the indispensable condition of any speech or writing; he must add what is required for illustrating the original text, and thus submit to a charge, now and then heavier than he can bear.

cxciv Under the necessity of expounding the translation by notes, I was not actuated by the ambition of being new, but only by that of being as useful as my means permitted, that is, by endeavoring to spare the reader time and trouble to look for dates and biographical notices of the persons, the situation of the places, and the explanation of the technical terms which occur in the text. Orientalists know the difficulty of rendering in a European language the phraseology of the Asiatic theology and philosophy. The Dabistán presents, besides the Sanscrit, a confusion of Arabic and Persian technical expressions; some of them have a very comprehensive signification, and for the sake of clearness must be rendered by different terms in different places; other expressions have at times a particular sense, and are at other times to be taken in the common acceptation; the same terms must be translated by different words, and different terms by the same; finally, the matter treated of is frequently so abstruse in its nature that professed philosophers have not yet been able to agree upon some of the most important questions. I can therefore but apprehend that I may not have thoroughly understood, and must confess that I have not translated, to my own satisfaction, more than one passage relative to Indian doctrines, and to the Muhammedan scholastic philosophy.

The Sanscrit names and terms of Indian mythology, cxcv theology, and philosophy are much corrupted by the Persian spelling; I have endeavored to restore them to their original forms. I thought it right to adduce in most cases the Sanscrit, Arabic, or Persian word at the same time in Roman as well as Devanagari, or Arabic characters, with its interpretation. I followed the rule proposed by sir William Jones for writing oriental words in Roman characters, as often as I took these words from a Sanscrit, Persian, or Arabic text; but from works written in a European language, I was generally obliged to copy the spelling of Oriental names: on which account, in my notes, a regretable inequality of orthography could not be avoided.

The Dabistán not only touches upon most difficult points of science and erudition, but also comprises in its allusions and references nearly the whole history of Asia. In observing this, I am necessarily at the same time pointing to the many deficiencies which will be found in my attempts to comment and illustrate so comprehensive and diversified a text. The best advantage which a man obtains at the termination of an arduous work, is to have enabled himself to make it better, if he could begin again; but he can but humbly submit to the decrees of an all-ruling power, which bestows upon each mortal only a certain measure of faculties and of time.

cxcvi Desirous to fulfil my task to the best of my abilities, I did not neglect to consult every translation of any part of the Dabistán which had been published. I have already mentioned, in this preface,[218] that Gladwin edited the Persian text of a part of the first chapter with an English version which was worthy of his reputation as an excellent Orientalist. Every thing that came from the pen of the late doctor Leyden deserved attention. I had before my eyes his translation of chapter IX., on the religion of the Roshenian.[219] I did not neglect the abridged interpretation of the religious controversies held before Akbar, given in form of a dialogue by the learned and ingenious Vans Kennedy.[220] I perused with due regard the explanations which the illustrious Silvestre de Sacy furnished of some passages of the Dabistán[221] since this work became known to him in 1821, as well as the remarks cursorily made upon it by some Orientalists.

I did not fail also to profit by the advantages which my residence in Paris, and my connections cxcvii with distinguished cultivators of Oriental literature, could afford me on behalf of my translation. It is my duty to acknowledge the services which I received from the kindness of M. Garcin de Tassy, professor of Hindostanee, whose intimate acquaintance with Arabic and Persian literature in general, and with Muhammedan theology in particular, is attested by several esteemed works which he has published. The many Arabic passages, disseminated in the Dabistán, have mostly been revised, interpreted, and referred to the Koran, by him. M. Eugène Burnouf, professor of Sanscrit, is never in vain consulted concerning that part of ancient philology in which he has acquired a most particular and eminent distinction. I also constantly experienced the most friendly readiness to tender me information, when required, in M. Julius Mohl and baron Mac Guckin de Slane, as well as in M. Reinaud, professor of Arabic, attached to the Royal Library, a most distinguished conservator and most complaisant communicator of the valuable manuscripts under his special charge. I beg these honorable gentlemen to receive my sincerest acknowledgments.