THE DABISTÁN,
OR
SCHOOL OF MANNERS.
MADAME VEUVE DONDEY-DUPRÉ,
Printer to the Asiatic Societies of London, Paris, and Calcutta,
46, rue St-Louis, Paris.
THE
DABISTÁN,
OR
SCHOOL OF MANNERS,
TRANSLATED FROM THE ORIGINAL PERSIAN,
WITH NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS,
BY
DAVID SHEA,
OF THE ORIENTAL DEPARTMENT IN THE HONORABLE EAST INDIA COMPANY’S
COLLEGE;
AND
ANTHONY TROYER,
MEMBER OF THE ROYAL ASIATIC SOCIETIES OF GREAT BRITAIN AND IRELAND, OF
CALCUTTA AND PARIS, AND OF THE ETHNOLOGICAL SOCIETY OF PARIS;
EDITED, WITH A PRELIMINARY DISCOURSE, BY THE LATTER.
VOLUME I.
PARIS:
PRINTED FOR THE ORIENTAL TRANSLATION FUND OF GREAT BRITAIN AND IRELAND.
SOLD BY
BENJAMIN DUPRAT, BOOKSELLER TO THE BIBLIOTHÈQUE ROYALE,
7, RUE DU CLOITRE SAINT-BENOIT.
AND ALLEN AND CO., LEADENHALD-STREET, LONDON.
1843.
TO
The Memory
OF
THE RIGHT HONORABLE
THE EARL OF MUNSTER,
_Etc., etc., etc._
CONTENTS
_Of the Preliminary Discourse_.
Page
PART I.
Introduction.
Section I.――How the Dabistán first became
known――its author――the sources of
his information iii
II.――Discussion on the Desátir xix
PART II.
Synopsis of the dynasties, religions, sects, and
philosophic opinions treated of in the Dabistán.
Section I.――The first religion――the dynasties of
Mahabad, Abad Azar, Shai Abad, Shai
Giliv, Shai Mahbad, and Yasan lxvi
II.――The Peshdadian, Kayanian, Ashkanian, and
Sassanian dynasties――their religious
and political institutions lxxvii
III.――The religion of Zardusht, or
Zoroaster lxxxiii
IV.――The religion of the Hindus cv
V.――Retrospect of the Persian and Indian
religions cxx
VI.――The religion of the Tabitian (Tibetans) cxxv
VII.――The religion of the Jews _ibid._
VIII.――The religion of the Christians cxxvi
IX.――The religion of the Muselmans cxxviii
X.――The religion of the Sadakiahs cxli
XI.――The religion of the Roshenians cxlv
XII.――The religion of the Ilahiahs cxlvii
XIII.――The religion of the Philosophers cliii
XIV.――The religion of the Súfis clxix
XV.――Recapitulation of the Contents of
the Dabistán _ibid._
PART III.
Conclusion.
Section I.――General appreciation of the Dabistán
and its author clxxix
II.――Notice concerning the printed edition,
some manuscripts, and the
translations of the Dabistán clxxxviii
CONTENTS
_Of the Dabistán (vol. I.)_
Page
Introduction of the Author 1
CHAPTER I.
Of the religion of the Parsian 4
Section I.――Tenets and ceremonies observed by the
Sipasian and Parsian 5
Description of the worship rendered to
the seven planets, according to the
Sipasian faith 35
II.――Description of the Sipasian sect 87
III.――The laws of the Paiman-i-Farhang and
the Hirbed Sár 147
Descriptions of the gradations of
Paradise 150
Description of the infernal regions 152
IV.――An account of the Jamshapian sect 193
V.――The Samradian sect 195
VI.――The tenets of the Khodaiyan 201
VII.――The system of the Rádián _ibid._
VIII.――The Shidrangián creed 203
IX.――The Páikárian creed _ibid._
X.――The Milánián system 204
XI.――The system of the followers of Alár 206
XII.――The Shidanian faith 207
XIII.――The system of the Akhshiyán sect _ibid._
XIV.――The followers of Zardusht 211
Account of the precepts given by Zardusht
to the king and all mankind 260
The Sad-der, or “the hundred gates” of
Zardusht 310
Enumeration of some advantages which
arise from the enigmatical forms of
the precepts of Zardusht’s followers 351
Summary of the contents of the Mah-zend 353
XV.――An account of the tenets held by the
followers of Mazdak 372
PRELIMINARY DISCOURSE.
PART I.
INTRODUCTION.
§ I.――HOW THE DABISTAN FIRST BECAME KNOWN――ITS
AUTHOR――THE SOURCES OF HIS INFORMATION.
It is generally known that sir William Jones was the first who drew
the attention of Orientalists to the Dabistán. This happened five
years after the beginning of a new era in Oriental literature, the
foundation of the Asiatic Society of Calcutta by that illustrious man.
It may not appear inopportune here to revive the grateful remembrance
of one who acquired the uncontested merit of not only exciting in Asia
and Europe a new ardor for Oriental studies, but also of directing
them to their great objects――MAN and NATURE; and of endeavoring, by
word and deed, to render the attainment of languages conducive to the
required knowledge equally easy and attractive.
Having, very early in life, gained an European reputation as a scholar
and elegant writer, sir William Jones embarked[1] for the Indian
shores with vast projects, embracing, with the extension of science,
the general improvement of mankind.[2] Four months after his arrival
in Calcutta,[3] he addressed as the first president of the Asiatic
Society, a small but select assembly, in which he found minds
responsive to his own noble sentiments. A rapid sketch of the first
labors of their incomparable leader, may not be irrelevant to our
immediate subject.
In his second anniversary discourse,[4] he proposed a general plan for
investigating Asiatic learning, history, and institutions. In his
third discourse, he traced the line of investigation, which he
faithfully followed, as long as he lived in India, in his annual
public speeches: he determined to exhibit the prominent features of
the five principal nations of Asia――the Indians, Arabs, Tartars,
Persians, and Chinese. After having treated in the two following years
of the Arabs and Tartars, he considered in his sixth discourse[5] the
Persians, and declared that he had been induced by his earliest
investigations to believe, and by his latest to conclude, that three
primitive races of men must have migrated originally from a central
country, and that this country was _Iran_, commonly called Persia.
Examining with particular care the traces of the most ancient
languages and religions which had prevailed in this country, he
rejoiced at “a fortunate discovery, for which,” he said, “he was first
indebted to Mir Muhammed Hussain, one of the most intelligent
Muselmans in India, and which has at once dissipated the cloud, and
cast a gleam of light on the primeval history of Iran and of the human
race, of which he had long despaired, and which could hardly have
dawned from any other quarter;” this was, he declared, “the rare and
interesting tract on twelve different religions, entitled the
DABISTAN.”[6]
Sir William Jones read the Dabistán for the first time in 1787. I
cannot refrain from subjoining here the opinion upon this work, which
he communicated in a private letter, dated June, 1787, to J. Shore,
esq. (afterwards lord Teignmouth); he says: “The greatest part of it
would be very interesting to a curious reader, but some of it cannot
be translated. It contains more recondite learning, more entertaining
history, more beautiful specimens of poetry, more ingenuity and wit,
more indecency and blasphemy, than I ever saw collected in a single
volume;[7] the two last are not of the author’s, but are introduced in
the chapters on the heretics and infidels of India.[8] On the whole,
it is the most amusing and instructive book I ever read in
Persian.”[9]
We may suppose it was upon the recommendation of sir William Jones,
that Francis Gladwin, one of the most distinguished members of the new
Society, translated the first chapter of _The Dabistán_, or “School of
Manners,” which title has been preserved from due regard to the
meritorious Orientalist, who first published the translation of a part
of this work. The whole of it was printed in the year 1809, in
Calcutta, and translations of some parts of it were published in _The
Asiatic Researches_.[10] It is only at present, more than half a
century after the first public notice of it by sir W. Jones, that the
version of the whole work appears, under the auspices and at the
expense of the Oriental Translation Committee of Great Britain and
Ireland.
Who was the author of the Dabistán?――Sir William Jones thought it was
composed by a Muhammedan traveller, a native of Kachmir, named
_Mohsan_, but distinguished by the assumed surname of _Fání_, “the
Perishable.”
Gladwin[11] calls him _Shaikh Muhammed Mohsin_, and says that, besides
the Dabistán, he has left behind him a collection of poems, among
which there is a moral essay, entitled _Masdur ul asas_, “the source
of signs;” he was of the philosophic sect of Súfis, and patronised by
the imperial prince _Dara Shikoh_, whom he survived; among his
disciples in philosophy is reckoned _Muhammed Tahir_, surnamed
_Ghawri_, whose poems are much admired in Hindostan. Mohsan’s death is
placed in the year of the Hejira 1081 (A. D. 1670).
William Erskine,[12] in search of the true author of the Dabistán,
discovered no other account of Mohsan Fání than that contained in the
_Gul-i-Râana_, “charming rose,” of _Lachmi Narayán_, who flourished in
Hyderabad about the end of the 18th or the beginning of the 19th
century. This author informs us, under the article of Mohsan Fání,
that “Mohsán, a native of Kachmir, was a learned man and a respectable
poet; a scholar of _Mulla Yakub_, Súfi of Kachmir; and that, after
completing his studies, he repaired to Delhi, to the court of the
emperor _Shah Jehan_, by whom, in consequence of his great reputation
and high acquirements, he was appointed _Sadder_, ‘chief judge,’ of
Allahabad; that there he became a disciple of Shaikh _Mohib ulla_, an
eminent doctor of that city, who wrote the treatise entitled
_Teswich_, ‘the golden Mean.’ Mohsan Fání enjoyed this honorable
office till Shah Jehân subdued Balkh; at which time _Nazer Muhammed
Khan_, the Wali, ‘prince,’ of Balkh, having effected his escape, all
his property was plundered. It happened that in his library there was
found a copy of Mohsan’s Diwán, or ‘poetical Collection,’ which
contained an ode in praise of the (fugitive) Wáli. This gave such
offence to the emperor, that the Sadder was disgraced and lost his
office, but was generously allowed a pension. He retired (as Lachmi
informs us) to his native country, where he passed the rest of his
days without any public employment, happy and respected. His house was
frequented by the most distinguished men of Kachmir, and among the
rest by the governors of the province. He had lectures at his house,
being accustomed to read to his audience the writings of certain
authors of eminence, on which he delivered moral and philosophical
comments. Several scholars of note, among whom were Taher Ghawri
(before mentioned) and _Haji Aslem Salem_, issued from his school.” He
died on the before mentioned date. “It is to be observed that Lachmi
does not mention the Dabistán as a production of Mohsan Fání, though,
had he written it, it must have been his most remarkable work.”
Erskine goes on to recapitulate some particulars mentioned in the
Dabistán of the author’s life, and concludes that it seems very
improbable that Mohsan Fání and the author of the Dabistán were the
same person. In this conclusion, and upon the same grounds, he
coincides with the learned Vans Kennedy.[13]
Erskine further quotes,[14] from a manuscript copy of the Dabistán
which he saw in the possession of Mulla Firuz, in Bombay, the
following marginal note annexed to the close of chapter XIV.: “In the
city of Daurse, a king of the Parsis, of the race of the imperial
Anushirván, the Shet Dawer Huryár, conversed with _Amír Zulfikar
Ali-al-Husaini_ (on whom be the grace of God!), whose poetical name
was Mobed Shah.” This Zulfikar Ali, whoever he was, the Mulla supposes
to be the author of the Dabistán. Erskine judiciously subjoins: “On so
slight an authority, I would not willingly set up an unknown author as
the compiler of that work; but it is to be remarked that many verses
of Mobed’s are quoted in the Dabistán, and there is certainly reason
to suspect that the poetical Mobed, whoever he may be, was the author
of that compilation.”
“To this let it be added, that the author of the Dabistán; in his
account of Mobed Serosh, says[15] that one Muhammed Mohsan, a man of
learning, told him that he had heard Mobed Serosh give three hundred
and sixty proofs of the existence of God. This at least makes Muhammed
Mohsan, whoever he may be, a different person from the author of the
Dabistán.”
I cannot omit adding the following notice annexed to the note quoted
above: “Between the printed copy and Mulla Firuz’s manuscript before
alluded to, a difference occurs in the very beginning of the work.
After the poetical address to the Deity and the praise of the prophet,
with which the Dabistán, like most other Muselman works, commences,
the manuscript reads: ‘Mohsan Fani says,’ and two moral couplets
succeed. In the printed copy, the words ‘Mohsan Fani says,’――which
should occur between the last word of the first page and the first
word of the second――are omitted. As no account of the author is given
in the beginning of the book, as is usual with Muselman writers, Mulla
Firuz conjectures that a careless or ignorant reader may have
considered the words ‘Mohsan Fáni says’ as forming the commencement of
the volume, and as containing the name of the author of the whole
book; whereas they merely indicate the author of the couplets that
follow, and would rather show that Mohsan Fani was not the writer of
the Dabistán. This conjecture, I confess, appears to me at once
extremely ingenious and very probable. A comparison of different
manuscripts might throw more light on the question.”
Concerning the opinion last stated, I can but remark, that in a
manuscript copy of the Dabistán, which I procured from the library of
the king of Oude, and caused to be transcribed for me, the very same
words: “Mohsan Fani says,” occur (as I have observed in vol. I. p. 6,
note 3), preceding a _rabaâ_, or quatrain, which begins:
“The world is a book full of knowledge and of justice,” etc. etc.
These lines seem well chosen as an introduction to the text itself,
which begins by a summary of the whole work, exhibiting the titles of
the twelve chapters of which it is composed. As the two copies
mentioned (the one found in Bombay, the other in Lucknow) contain the
same words, they can hardly be taken for an accidental addition of a
copyist. I found no remark upon this point in Mr. Shea’s translation,
who had two manuscript copies to refer to. Whatever it be, it must
still remain undecided, whether Mohsan Fani was there named only as
the author of the next quatrain or of the whole book, although either
hypothesis may not appear destitute of probability; nor can it be
considered strange to admit that the name of Mohsan Fani was borne by
more than one individual. I shall be permitted to continue calling the
author of the Dabistán by the presumed name of Mohsan Fani.
Dropping this point, we shall now search for information upon his
person, character, and knowledge in the work itself. Is he really a
native of Kachmir, as here before stated?
Although in the course of his book he makes frequent mention of
Kachmir, he never owns himself a native of that country. In one part
of his narrative, he expressly alludes to another home. He begins the
second chapter upon the religion of the Hindus (vol. II. p. 2) by
these words: “As inconstant fortune had torn away the author from the
shores of Persia, and made him the associate of the believers in
transmigration and those who addressed their prayers to idols and
images, and worshipped demons * * * *.” Now we know that Kachmir is
considered as a very ancient seat, nay as the very cradle, of the
doctrine of transmigration, and of Hinduism in general, with all its
tenets, rites, and customs; and that from the remotest times to the
present it was inhabited by numerous adherents of this faith; how
could the author, if a native of Kachmir, accuse inconstant fortune
for having made him elsewhere an associate of these very religionists
with whom, from his birth, he must have been accustomed to live? The
passage just quoted leaves scarce a doubt that the shores of Persia,
from which he bewails having been torn, were really his native country.
When was he born?
He no where adduces the date of his birth; the earliest period of his
life which he mentions, is the year of the Hejira 1028 (A. D.
1618):[16] in this year the Mobed Hushíar brought the author to Balik
Nátha, a great adept in the Yoga, or ascetic devotion, to receive the
blessing of that holy man, who pronounced these words over him: “This
boy shall acquire the knowledge of God.” It is not stated in what
place this happened. The next earliest date is five years later, 1033
of the Hejira (A. D. 1623).[17] He says that, in his infancy, he came
with his friends and relations from Patna to the capital Akbar-abad,
and was carried in the arms of the Mobed Hushíar to Chatur Vapah, a
famous ascetic of those days. The pious man rejoiced at it, and
bestowed his blessing on the future writer of the Dabistán; he taught
him the _mantra_, “prayer,” of the sun, and appointed one of his
disciples to remain with the boy until the age of manhood. We have
here a positive statement: in the year 1623 A. D., he was “in his
infancy,” and carried “in the arms of his protector.” Giving the
widest extension to these expressions, we can hardly think him to have
been either much older or younger than seven or eight years: not much
older, for being in some way carried in the arms of the Mobed; nor
much younger, having been taught a hymn to the sun, and he might have
been a boy of three years when he received the first-mentioned
blessing from Balik Natha. We may therefore suppose him to have been
born about the year 1615 of our era, in the tenth year of the reign of
the emperor Jehangir. We collect in his work fifty-three dates
relative to himself between the year 1618 and 1653. From 1627 to 1643,
we see him mostly in Kachmir and Lahore, travelling between these two
places; in 1643, he was at the holy sepulchre, probably at Meshhad,
which appears to be the furthermost town to the West which he reached;
from 1634 to 1649, he dwelt in several towns of the Panjab and
Guzerat; the next year he proceeded to Sikakul, the remotest town in
the East which he says he has visited; there he fell sick, and
sojourned during 1653, at which epoch, if the year of his birth be
correctly inferred, he had attained his thirty-eighth year. We have no
other date of his death than that before stated: if he died in 1670,
it was in the eleventh year of the reign of Aurengzéb, or Alemgir.
Mohsan Fani would therefore have passed his infancy, youth, and
manhood mostly in India, under the reigns of the three emperors,
Jehangír, Shah Jehan, and Aurengzeb.[18] It was the state of religion,
prevailing in those days in Hindostan that he describes.
From his earliest age he appears to have led an active life,
frequently changing his residence. Such a mode of life belongs to a
travelling merchant or philosopher, and in our author both qualities
might have been united, as is often the case in Asia. Mohsan Fani,
during his travels, collected the diversified and curious materials
for the Dabistán; he observed with his own eyes the manners and
customs of different nations and sects. He says himself at the
conclusion of his work: “After having much frequented the meetings of
the followers of the five before-said religions,” Magians, Hindus,
Jews, Nazareans, and Muselmans, “the author wished and undertook to
write this book; and whatever in this work, treating of the religions
of different countries, is stated concerning the creed of different
sects, has been taken from their books, and for the account of the
persons belonging to any particular sect, the author’s information was
imparted to him by their adherents and sincere friends, and recorded
literally, so that no trace of partiality nor aversion might be
perceived: in short, the writer of these pages performed no more than
the task of a translator.” This declaration, even to a severe critic,
may appear satisfactory. Sir William Jones called him[19] a learned
and accurate, a candid and ingenious author. A further appreciation of
Mohsan Fani’s character is reserved for subsequent pages. We can,
however, here state, that he sought the best means of information, and
gives us what he had acquired not only from personal experience, which
is always more or less confined; not only from oral instruction, which
is too often imperfectly given and received; but also from an
attentive perusal of the best works which he could procure upon the
subject of his investigation. Of the latter authorities which the
author produces, some are known in Europe, and we may judge of the
degree of accuracy and intelligence with which he has made use of
them. Of others, nothing at all, or merely the name, is known. This is
generally the case with works relative to the old Persian religion,
which is the subject of the first chapter, divided into fifteen
sections.
The authorities which he adduces for this chapter are as follow:
1. The _Amighistan_ (vol. I. pp. 15. 26. 42), without the name of
its author.
2. The _Desátir_ (vol. I. pp. 20. 21. 44. 65), an heaven-bestowed
book.
3. The _Darai Sekander_ (vol. I. pp. 34. 360), composed by Dáwir
Háryar.
4. The _Akhteristan_, “region of the stars” (vol. I. pp. 35. 42).
5. The _Jashen Sadah_, “the festival of Sadah” (the 16th night of
January) (vol. I. pp. 72. 112).
6. The _Sárud-i-mastan_, “song of the intoxicated” (vol. I. p. 76.
vol. II. p. 136): this and the preceding work composed by Mobed
Hushíar.
7. The _Jam-i-Kai Khusro_, “the cup of Kai Khusro,” a commentary
upon the poems of Azar Kaivan, composed by Mobed Khod Jai (vol.
I. pp. 76. 84. 119.)
8. The _Sharistan-i-Danish wa Gulistan-i-binish_, “the pavilion of
knowledge and rose-garden of vision” (vol. I. p. 77. 89. 109),
composed by Farzanah Bahram.
9. The _Zerdusht Afshar_ (vol. I. p. 77), work of the Mobed Serosh,
who composed also:
10. _Nosh Daru_, “sweet medicine” (vol. I. p. 114); and
11. The _Sagangubin_, “dog’s honey” (vol. I. p. 114).
12. The _Bazm-gah-i-durvishan_, “the banquetting-room of the
durvishes” (vol. I. pp. 104. 108), without the name of the author.
13. The _Arzhang Mani_, “the gallery of Mani” (vol. I. p. 131).
14. The _Tabrah-i-Mobedi_, “the sacerdotal kettle-drum” (vol. I. p.
123), by Mobed Paristar.
15. The _Dadistan Aursah_ (vol. I. p. 131).
16. The _Amízesh-i-farhang_ (vol. I. p. 145), containing the
institutes of the Abadiah durvishes.
17. The _Míhín farush_ (vol. I. p. 244).
18. The _Testament of Jamshid to Abtin_ (vol. I. p. 195), compiled
by Farhang Dostúr.
19. _Razabad_, composed by Shídab.
20. The _Sányál_, a book of the Sipasians (vol. II. p. 136),
containing an account of a particular sort of devotion.
21. The _Rama zastan_ of Zardusht (vol. I. p. 369 and vol. II. p.
136).
22. _Huz al Hayat_ (vol. II. p. 137), composed by Ambaret Kant.
23. The _Samrad Nameh_, by Kamkar (vol. I. p. 201).
Besides other writings of Zertusht, in great number, which the author
has seen.
These works are most probably of a mystical nature, and belong to a
particular sect, but may contain, however, some interesting traditions
or facts of ancient history. Of the twenty-three books just
enumerated, a part of the third only is known to us, namely, that of
the Desátir.
[1] In April, 1783.
[2] He landed at Calcutta in September, 1783.
[3] In January, 1784.
[4] Delivered in February, 1785.
[5] In February, 1789.
[6] The works of sir William Jones, with the life of the
author, by lord Teignmouth, in 13 vols. Vol. III. p. 110.
1807.
[7] I shall hereafter give some explanations upon this
subject.
[8] There appears in the printed edition no positive ground
for the opinion above expressed; we find, however, frequent
repetitions of the same subject, such as are not likely to
belong to the same author; we know, besides, that additions
and interpolations are but too common in all Oriental
manuscripts.
[9] The Persian text, with the translation of the first
chapter, appeared in the two first numbers of the _New
Asiatic Miscellany_. Calcutta, 1789. This English version
was rendered into German by Dalberg, 1809.
[10] These translations are mentioned in the notes of the
present version.
[11] New Asiatic Misc., p. 87.
[12] Transactions of the Literary Society of Bombay, vol.
II. p. 374.
[13] Transactions of the Literary Society of Bombay, vol.
II. pp. 243-244.
[14] Ibid., pp. 375-376.
[15] See the present Transl., vol. I. pp. 113-114. A mistake
is here to be pointed out: at p. 114, l. 11, the name of
Kaivan has been substituted for that of Mobed Serosh.
[16] See vol. II. p. 137.
[17] See vol. II. p. 145.
[18] Jehangír reigned from 1605 to 1628.
Shah Jehan ―――― 1628 ―――― 1659.
Aurengzeb ―――― 1659 ―――― 1707.
[19] The Works of sir W. Jones, vol. IV. pp. 16 and 105.
§ II.――DISCUSSION ON THE DESATIR.
This word was considered to be the Arabic plural of the original
Persian word _dostúr_, signifying “a note-book, pillar, canon, model,
learned man;” but, according to the Persian grammar, its plural would
be _dosturán_, or _dostúrha_, and not _desátir_. From this Arabic form
of the word an inference was drawn against the originality and
antiquity of the Desátir; but this of itself is not sufficient, as
will be shown.
Other readings of the title are _Dastánir_, in one passage,[20] and
_Wasátir_[21] in two other places of Gladwin’s Persian text, and the
last also in a passage of the printed edition.[22] The first is not
easily accounted for, and is probably erroneous; but the second is
found in the index of the printed edition,[23] under the letter و,
_vau_, and explained: “the name of the book of Mahabad;” it cannot
therefore be taken for a typographical error, and is the correct title
of the book, as I now think, although I formerly[24] preferred reading
_Desátir_. It is derivable from the Sansrcit root वाश् _wás_, “to
sound, to call,” and therefore in the form of _wasátis_ or _wasâtir_
(the _r_ and _s_ being frequently substituted for the _visarga_) it
signifies “speech, oracle, precept, command.” It is also in connection
with the old Persian word _wakshur_, “a prophet.” Considering the
frequent substitution in kindred languages of _ba_ for _va_, and _ba_
for _bha_, it may also be referred to the root भाष _bhasha_, “to
speak,”[25] which, with the prepositions _pari_ and _sam_, signifies
“to explain, expound, discourse.” Hence we read in the Commentary of
the _Desátir_ the ancient Persian word _basátir_[26] (not to be found
in modern Persian vocabularies), which is there interpreted by
“speculations,” in the following passage: “the speculations (basátir)
which I have written on the _desátir_.”
I shall nevertheless keep, in the ensuing Dissertation, the title
Desátir, because it is generally adopted. Besides, in the Mahabádian
text, the _vau_, و, frequently occurs for the Persian _dál_, د, thus
we find وادن, _wáden_, for دادن, _dáden_, “to give;” and _wárem_,
وارم, for _dárem_, دارم, “I have;” but I am aware that the two
letters, so similar in their form, may be easily confounded with each
other by the copyist or printer.
The extract from the Desátir contained in the Dabistán was thought
worthy of the greatest attention by sir William Jones, as before
mentioned; nay, appeared to him “an unexceptionable authority,” before
a part of the Desátir itself was published in Bombay, in the year
1818, that is, twenty-four years after the death of that eminent man.
The author of the Dabistán mentions the Desátir as a work well known
among the Sipasians, that is, the adherents of the most ancient
religion of Persia. According to his statement, the emperor Akbar
conversed frequently with the fire-adorers of Guzerat; he also called
from Persia a follower of Zerdusht, named _Ardeshir_, and invited
fire-worshippers from Kirman to his court, and received their
religious books from that country; we may suppose the Desátir was
among them. So much is positive, that it is quoted in the _Sharistan
chehar chemen_, a work composed by a celebrated doctor who lived under
the reigns of the emperors Akbar and Jehangír, and died A. D. 1624.
The compiler of the Burhani Kati, a Persian Dictionary, to be compared
to the Arabic _Kamus_, or “sea of language,” quotes and explains a
great number of obsolete words and philosophic terms upon the
authority of the Desátir: this evidently proves the great esteem in
which this work was held. Let it be considered that a dictionary is
not destined for the use of a sect merely, but of the whole nation
that speaks the language, and this is the Persian, considered, even by
the Arabs, as the second language in the world and in paradise.[27]
It is to be regretted that Mohsan Fani did not relate where and how he
himself became acquainted with the Desátir. I see no sufficient ground
for the supposition of Silvestre de Sacy[28] and an anonymous
critic,[29] that the author of the Dabistán never saw the Desátir. So
much is certain, that the account which he gives of the Mahabádian
religion coincides in every material point with that which is
contained in that part of the sacred book which was edited in Bombay
by _Mulla Firuz Bin-i-Kaus_.[30]
This editor says in his preface (p. vi): “The Desátir is known to have
existed for many years, and has frequently been referred to by Persian
writers, though, as it was regarded as the sacred volume of a
particular sect, it seems to have been guarded with that jealous care
and that incommunicative spirit, that have particularly distinguished
the religious sects of the East. We can only fairly expect, therefore,
that the contents should be known to the followers of the sect.” Mulla
Firuz employs here evidently the term _sect_ with respect to the
dominant religion of the Muhammedan conquerors, whose violent and
powerful intolerance reduced the still faithful followers of the
ancient national religion to undergo the fate of a persecuted sect.
But we shall see that the doctrine of the Desátir is justly entitled
to a much higher pretension than to be that of an obscure sect.
Whatever it be, Mulla Firuz possessed the only manuscript of the work
then known in Bombay. It was purchased at Isfahan by his father Kaus,
about the year 1778, from a bookseller, who sold it under the title of
a Gueber book. Brought to Bombay, it attracted the particular
attention of Mr. Duncan, then governor of Bombay, to such a degree,
that he began an English translation of the work, which was
interrupted by his return to England. The final completion of the
version was owing to the great encouragement which sir John Malcolm
gave Mulla Firuz in consequence of the high opinion which sir William
Jones had publicly expressed of the Dabistán, the author of which drew
his account of the ancient Persian dynasties and religions chiefly
from the Desátir. There is an interval of one hundred and thirty-three
years[31] between the composition of the Dabistán and the fortuitous
purchase of the manuscript copy of the Desátir, by Kaus in Isfahan; as
it would be assuming to much to suppose that the latter is the same
from which Mohsan Fani drew his information, we can but admit that the
agreement of both, in the most material points, affords a confirmation
of each respective text.
The great Orientalist Silvestre de Sacy, on reviewing the Desátir,[32]
says: “We are in a manner frightened by the multitude and gravity of
the questions which we shall have to solve, or at least to discuss;
for every thing is here a problem: What is the age of the book? Who is
its author? Is it the work of several persons; or the divers parts of
which it is composed, are they written by one and the same author,
although attributed to different individuals, who succeeded each other
at long intervals? The language in which it was written, was it, at
any epoch, that of the inhabitants of Persia, or of any of the
countries comprised in the empire of Iran? Or is it nothing but a
factitious language, invented to support an imposture? At what epoch
were made the Persian translation accompanying the original text, and
the commentary joined to this translation? Who is the author of the
one and the other? Are not this translation and this commentary
themselves pseudonymous and apocryphal books; or may not the whole be
the work of an impostor of the latter centuries? All these questions
present themselves in a crowd to my mind; and if some of them appear
to be easily answered, others offer more than common difficulties.”
Well may a person, even with far greater pretensions than mine can be,
hesitate to attempt the discussion of a subject which _frightened_ the
illustrious Silvestre de Sacy; but as the Desátir is one of the
principal sources from which the author of the Dabistán drew his
account of the Persian religion and its divers sects――a considerable
part of his work――I cannot dispense with presenting the subject in the
state in which the discussions hitherto published, by very respectable
critics, have left it. If I venture to offer a few remarks of my own
upon it, it is only in the hope of provoking further elucidations by
philologers who shall examine the Mahabadian text itself, and by
arguments drawn from its fundamentals decide the important
question――whether we shall have one language more or less to count
among the relics of antiquity?
Instead of following the order in which the questions are stated
above, I will begin by that which appears to me the most important,
namely: “the language in which the Desátir is written, is it nothing
but a factitious language invented to support an imposture?”
The forgery of a language, so bold an imposture, renders any other
fraud probable; through a false medium no truth can be expected, nor
even sought. But, in order to guard against the preconception of a
forgery having taken place, a preconception the existence of which
may, with too good a foundation, be apprehended, I shall first
examine, as a general thesis, whether the invention of a language, by
one individual or by a few individuals, is in itself probable and
credible. I shall only adduce those principles which have received the
sanction of great philologers, among whom it may be sufficient to name
baron William Humboldt, and claim the reader’s indulgence, if, in
endeavoring to be clear, I should not have sufficiently avoided trite
observations.
Tracing languages up to their first origin, it has been found that
they are derived from sounds expressive of feelings; these are
preserved in the roots, from which, in the progressive development of
the faculty of speech, verbs, nouns, and the whole language, are
formed. In every speech, even in the most simple one, the individual
feeling has a connection with the common nature of mankind; speech is
not a work of reflection: it is an instinctive creation. The
infallible presence of the word required on every occasion is
certainly not a mere act of memory; no human memory would be capable
of furnishing it, if man did not possess in himself instinctively the
key, not only for the formation of words, but also for a continued
process of association: upon this the whole system of human language
is founded. By entering into the very substance of existing languages,
it appears evident that they are intellectual creations, which do not
at all pass from one individual to others, but can only emerge from
the coexisting self-activity of all.
“―― ―― That one the names of things contrived,
And that from him their knowledge all derived,
‘Tis fond to think.”[33]
As long as the language lives in the mouth of a nation, the words are
a progressive production and reproduction of the faculty to form
words. In this manner only can we explain, without having recourse to
a supernatural cause, how millions of men can agree to use the same
words for every object, the same locution for every feeling.
Language in general is the sensible exterior vestment of thought; it
is the product of the intelligence, and the expression of the
character of mankind; in particular it may be considered as the
exterior manifestation of the genius of nations: their language is
their genius, and their genius is their language. We see of what use
the investigation of idioms may be in tracing the affinities of
nations. History and geography must be taken as guides in the
researches upon tongues; but these researches would be futile, if
languages were the irregular product of hazard. No: profound feeling
and immediate clearness of vivid intuition act with wonderful
regularity, and follow an unerring analogy. The genesis of languages
may be assimilated to that of works of genius――I mean, of that
creative faculty which gives rules to an art. Thus is it the language
which dictates the grammar. Moreover, the utmost perfection of which
an idiom is susceptible is a line like that of beauty, which, once
attained, can never be surpassed. This was the case with some ancient
tongues. Since that time, mankind appear to have lost a faculty or a
talent, inasmuch as they are no more actuated by that urgency of keen
feeling which was the very principle of the high perfection of those
languages.
Comparative philology, a new science, sprung up within the last thirty
years, but already grown to an unforeseen perfection, has fixed the
principles by which the affinities of languages may be known, even
among the apparently irregular disparities which various circumstances
and revolutions of the different nations have created. This would have
been impossible, if there did not exist a fundamental philosophy of
language, however concealed, and a certain consistency, even in the
seemingly most irregular modification of dialect, for instance, in
that of pronunciation. But, even the permutation of letters in
different and the most rude dialects, has its rules, and follows,
within its own compass, a spontaneous analogy, such as is
indispensable for the easy and common practice of a society more or
less numerous. Thus sounds, grammatical forms, and even graphical
signs of language have been subjected to analysis and comparison; the
significant radical letters have been distinguished from the merely
accidental letters, and a distinction has been established between
what is fundamental, and what is merely historical and accidental.
From these considerations I conclude:
First――That the forgery of a language is in itself highly improbable;
Secondly――That, if it had been attempted, comparative philology is
perfectly capable of detecting it.
Taking a large historical view of this subject, we cannot suppress the
following reflection: The formation of mighty and civilized states
being admitted, even by our strictest chronologers, to have taken
place at least twenty-five centuries before our era, it can but appear
extraordinary, even after taking in account violent revolutions, that
of so multitudinous and great existences, only such scanty documents
should have come down to us. But, strange to say, whenever a testimony
has escaped the destruction of time, instead of being greeted with a
benevolent although discerning curiosity, the unexpected stranger is
approached with mistrustful scrutiny, his voice is stifled with severe
rebukes, his credentials discarded with scorn, and by a predetermined
and stubborn condemnation, resuscitating antiquity is repelled into
the tomb of oblivion.
I am aware that all dialectical arguments which have been or may be
alleged against the probability of forging a language, would be of no
avail against well-proved facts, that languages have been forged, and
that works, written in them, exist. We may remember the example
adduced by Richardson[34] of a language, as he said, “sufficiently
original, copious, and regular to impose upon persons of very
extensive learning,” forged by Psalmanazar. This was the assumed name
of a an individual, whom the eminent Orientalist calls a Jew, but who,
born in 1679, in Languedoc or in Provence, of Christian parents,
received a Christian, nay theological education, as good as his first
instructors, Franciscans, Jesuits, and Dominicans could bestow. This
extraordinary person threw himself at a very early age into a career
of adventures, in the course of which, at the age of seventeen years,
he fell upon the wild project of passing for a native of the island of
Formosa, first as one who had been converted to Christianity, then, as
still a pagan, he let himself be baptized by a Scotch minister, by
whom he was recommended to an English bishop; the latter, in his pious
illusion, promoted at once the interests of the convertor, and the
fraud of the neophyte.[35] This adventurer who was bold enough, while
on the continent, to set about inventing a new character and language,
a grammar, and a division of the year into twenty months, published in
London, although not twenty years old, a translation of the catechism
into his forged language of Formosa, and a history of the island with
his own alphabetical writing, which read from right to left――a gross
fiction the temporary success of which evinces the then prevailing
ignorance in history, geography, and philology. But pious zeal and
fanaticism had changed a scientific discussion into a religious
quarrel, and for too long a time rendered vain the objections of a few
truly learned and clear-sighted men; until the impostor, either
incapable of supporting longer his pretensions or urged by his
conscience, avowed the deception, and at last became a truly learned
good and estimable man.[36] We see this example badly supports the
cause of forged languages.
In 1805, M. Rousseau, since consul-general of France at Aleppo, found
in a private library at Baghdad a dictionary of a language which is
designated by the name of _Baláibalan_, interpreted “he who vivifies,”
and written in Arabic characters called _Neshki_; it was explained in
Arabic, Persian, and Turkish. The unknown author of the dictionary
composed it for the intelligence of mysterious and occult sciences,
written in that language. The highly learned Silvestre de Sacy had
scarce been informed of this discovery, when he sought and found in
the Royal Library, at Paris, the same dictionary, and with his usual
diligence and sagacity published a short but lucid Notice of it.[37]
What he said therein was sufficient for giving an idea of the manner
in which this language participates in the grammatical forms of
Arabic, Persian, and Turkish. Silvestre de Sacy, as well as M.
Rousseau, have left it uncertain whether the language be dead or
living; by whom and at what period it was formed, and what authors
have made use of it. The former adds, that some works written in
Baláibalan are likely to be found in the hands of the Súfis of Persia.
This language deserves perhaps a further examination. All that is
positive in the just-adduced statement of the two great Orientalists
may be said of any other language, which is not original but composed,
as for instance the English or the Dutch, of more than one idiom. We
can but admit that, at all times an association of men for a
particular purpose, a school of art, science, and profession may have,
has, and even must have, a particular phraseology. Any modification of
ancient, or production of new, ideas, will create a modified or a new
language; any powerful influence of particular circumstances will
produce a similar effect; this is a spontaneous reproduction, and not
the intentional forgery of a language.
Such a forgery, even if it could remain undetected, which it cannot in
our times, would but furnish a curious proof of human ingenuity, to
which no bounds can be assigned; but the true and sole object of a
language could never be attained by it; because, never would a great
number of independent men be disposed, nor could they be forced, to
adopt the vocabulary, grammar, and locutions of a single man, and
appropriate them to themselves for the perpetual expression of their
inmost mind, and for the exchange of their mutual feelings and
ideas.[38] To effect this, is a miracle ascribed to the Divinity, and
with justice; being the evident result of the Heaven-bestowed faculty
of speech, one of the perpetual miracles of the world.
Of this a prophet must avail himself who announces to the world the
important intelligence of a heavenly revelation. The great purpose of
his sacred mission implies the widest possible proclamation of his
doctrine in a language generally intelligible, which a forged language
never can be. If, as was surmised,[39] the Desátir be set up as a
rival to the Koran, it must have been written in a national language
for a nation; the Persians owned as theirs the _Mahabadian_ religion,
the identical one which history, although not under the same name,
attributes to them in remote ages, as will result from an examination
of the doctrine itself.
Considering the knowledge required, and the difficulties to be
overcome in forging a language in such a manner as to impose, even for
a time, upon the credulity of others, we shall conclude that nothing
less than direct proof is requisite for establishing such a forgery as
a real fact. Now, what arguments have been set forth for declaring the
language of the Desátir to be nothing else than “an artificial idiom
invented to support an imposture?”
Silvestre de Sacy says:[40] “It is difficult indeed, not to perceive
that the multiplied relations which exist between the _Asmáni_,
‘heavenly,’ and Persian languages are the result of a systematic
operation, and not _the effect of hazard_, nor _that of time, which
proceeds with less regularity in the alterations to which language is
subjected_.”
I must apologise for here interrupting this celebrated author, for the
purpose of referring to what nobody better than himself has
established as a peremptory condition of existence for any language,
and what he certainly never meant to deny, but may perhaps here be
supposed to forget――namely, that a language is not “the effect of
hazard,” and although “not the result of systematic combination,” yet,
as an instinctive creation, shows surprising regularity, and that an
evident rule predominates in the alterations which time produces in
languages.
Silvestre de Sacy proceeds: “The grammar of the Mahabadian language is
evidently, for the whole etymological part, and even (which is
singularly striking) in what concerns the anomalous verbs, traced from
(_calquée sur_) the Persian grammar, and as to the radical words, if
there be many of them the origin of which is unknown, there is also a
great number of them in which the Persian root, more or less altered,
may be recognised without any effort.”
Erskine examined, without the least communication with the French
critic, the Mahabadian language, and says:[41] “In its grammar it
approaches very nearly to the modern Persian, as well in the
inflection of the nouns and verbs, as in its syntax.” Norris[42] takes
the very same view of it.
These highly respectable critics published their judgment upon the
Mahabadian language before the comparison of several languages with
the Sanscrit and between each other had been made by able philologers,
creators of the new science of comparative philology. According to the
latter, the proofs of the real affinity of language, that is, the
proofs that two languages belong to the same family, are to be
principally and can be properly deduced, from their grammatical
system. Thus, for instance, the forms of the Greek and Latin languages
are in several parts nearly identical with the Sanscrit, the first
bearing a greater resemblance in one respect, the latter in another;
the Greek verbs in _mi_, the Latin declension of some nouns appear, to
use the expression of the illustrious author, “traced from each other
(_calqués l’un sur l’autre_).” These two languages seem to have
divided between them the whole system of the ancient grammar, which is
most perfectly preserved in the Sanscrit. This language itself is
probably, with the two mentioned, derived from a more ancient
language; we meet in them three sisters recognised by their striking
likeness. This, although more or less weakened and even obliterated in
some features, remains upon the whole still perceptible in a long
series of their relations: I mean in all those languages which are
distinguished by the name of _Indo-germanic_, to which the Persian
belongs.
But, in deciding upon the affinity of languages, not only the
grammatical forms are to be examined, but also the system of sounds is
to be studied, and the words must be considered in their roots and
derivations. The three critics mentioned agree that the language of
the Desátir is very similar to the Persian or Deri, not only in
grammar, but also in etymology; a great number of the verbal and
nominal roots are the same in both. This similarity would, according
to comparative philology, lead to the conclusion that either the one
is derived from the other, or that both proceed from a common parent;
but nothing hitherto here alleged can justify the supposition of
invention, forgery, or fabrication of the so-called Mahabadian
language.
We continue to quote the strictures of Silvestre de Sacy: “There is
however a yet stronger proof of the systematic operation which
produced the factitious idiom. This proof I derive from the perfect
and constant identity which prevails between the Persian phraseology
and that of the Mahabadian idiom. The one and the other are, whenever
the translation does not degenerate into paraphrase or commentary,
which frequently happens, traced from each other (_calqués l’un sur
l’autre_) in such a manner that each phrase, in both, has always the
same number of words, and these words are always arranged in the same
order. For producing such a result, we must admit two idioms, the
grammar of which should be perfectly alike, as weil with respect to
the etymological part as to the syntax, and their respective
dictionaries offering precisely the same number of words, whether
nouns, verbs, or particles: which would suppose two nations, having
precisely the same number of ideas, whether absolute or relative, and
conceiving but the same kind and the same number of relations.”
If what we have already stated be not unfounded, the last quoted
paragraph, which the author calls “a yet stronger proof of the
systematic operations which produced the factitious idiom” must be
acknowledged not to have the weight which he would attribute to it. If
the Mahabadian and Persian be languages related to each other, “a
perfect and constant identity of phraseology between them both,” if
even so great as it is said to be, is not only possible, but may be
fairly expected in the avowed translation of the Desátir into Persian.
Such identity is most religiously aimed at in versions of a sacred
text. Need I adduce modern examples of translations which, in point of
phraseological conformity with their original, may vie with the
Persian version of the Mahabadian text? The supposition that two
nations have the same number of ideas, absolute or relative, is far
from being absurd: it is really the fact with all nations who are upon
the same level of civilisation; but the present question is of the
writings of the same nation, which, possessing at all times a sort of
government and religion fundamentally the same, might easily count an
obsolete language of its own among the monuments of its antiquity.
On that account, we cannot see what the former arguments of the critic
gain in strength by the addition: “that the perfect identity of
conception falls in a very great part upon abstract and metaphysical
ideas, in which such a coincidence is infinitely more difficult than
when the question is only of objects and relations perceptible to the
senses.”――A great similarity is remarked in all forms of thinking.
Little chance of being contradicted can be incurred in saying, that
the fundamental ideas of metaphysics are common to all mankind, and
inherent in human reason. The encyclopedian contents of the Dabistán,
concerning the opinions of so many nations, would furnish a new proof
of it, were this generally acknowledged fact in need of any further
support.
Silvestre de Sacy acknowledges that the Asmáni language contains a
great number of radical words, the origin of which is not known.
Erskine says:[43] “It is certainly singular that the language in which
the Desátir is written, like that in which the Zend-Avesta is
composed, is no where else to be met with. It is not derived from the
Zend, the Pehlevi, the Sanscrit, Arabic, Turkish, Persian, or any
other known language.” * * * * * * The basis of the language, and the
great majority of words in it, belong to no known tongue. It is a
mixture of Persian and Indian words. A few Arabic words occur.”
Norris[44] also found that a great part of the language appears to
have little resemblance to any other that was ever spoken. A judgment,
so expressed, might induce an impartial mind to ascribe originality to
at least a part of the Asmáni language; which would naturally render
the other part less liable to suspicion, inasmuch as it would have
been not less difficult to execute, but less easy to conceal, a
partial than a total forgery. Nevertheless it so happens that the
dissimilarity from any other, as well as the similarity to one
particular idiom, are both equally turned against the genuineness of
the language in question: where dissimilarity exists, there is
absolute forgery――where similarity, an awkward disguise!
Erskine continues: “The Persian system it is unnecessary to
particularise; but it is worthy of attention that, among the words of
Indian origin, not only are many Sanscrit, which might happen in a
work of a remote age, but several belong to the colloquial language of
Hindustán: this is suspicious, and seems to mark a much more recent
origin. Many words indeed occur in the Desátir that are common to the
Sanscrit and to the vulgar Indian languages (the author quotes
thirty-four of them); many others might be pointed out. But the most
remarkable class of words is that which belongs to the pure Hindi;
such I imagine are the word _shet_, ‘respectable,’ prefixed to the
names of prophets and others (twenty-four are adduced). Whatever may
be thought of the words of Persian descent, it is not probable that
those from the Hindustaní are of a very remote age; they may perhaps
be regarded as considerably posterior to the settlement of the
Muselmans in India.”
Strongly supported by the opinion of respectable philologers, I do not
hesitate to draw a quite contrary conclusion from the facts stated by
Erskine. It should be remembered that, in the popular or vulgar
dialects are often found remains of ancient tongues, namely, roots of
words, locutions, nay rules of grammar which have become obsolete, or
disappeared in the cultivated idioms derived from the same original
language. It was not without reason that the illustrious William
Humboldt recommended to the Royal Asiatic Society of Great Britain and
Ireland,[45] to examine, on behalf of general Oriental philology, the
different provincial dialects of India. Even the gibberish of gypsies
is not to be neglected for that purpose.[46]
Thus, if we are not greatly mistaken, the very arguments alleged to
show that the Mahabadian language is an invention or forgery, lead
rather to a contrary conclusion. Duly sensible of the great weight of
authority which opposes the result of my inquiry, I sought an
explanation of the severe judgment passed upon the Desátir, and
venture to surmise that it was occasioned by the certainly extravagant
claim to a heavenly origin and incredible antiquity which has been
attached to this work. Such pretensions, taken in too serious a light,
can but hurt a fixed, if not religious, belief. Every nation
acknowledges but one heavenly book, and rejects every other. Hence
arises a very natural, and even respectable pre-conception against all
that appears without the limits traced by religion, or mere early
habit and adopted system. Thus a severe censure is provoked. To
annihilate at once the impertinent pretension to a divine origin, all
that ingenuity can suggest is brought forward to prove the book to be
a fraudulent forgery; to strip it of the awful dignity of antiquity,
it must by any means be represented as the work of yesterday. But
error is not fraud, and may be as ancient as mankind itself; because
credulous, a man is not the forger of a document. If the Mahabadian
language is not that primitive idiom from which the Sanscrit, the
Zend, and other languages are derived, it does not follow that it is
“a mere jargon, fabricated with no great address to support a
religious or philosophical imposture;”[47] if it was not spoken in
Iran long before the establishment of the Péshdadian monarchy, it does
not follow “that it has at no time belonged to any tribe or nation on
the face of the earth.”
However I may appear inclined in favor of the Desátir, I shall avoid
incurring the blame of unfair concealment by adding to the names of
the great critics above quoted, adverse to this work, the great one of
William von Schlegel. I must avow it; the celebrated author declares
the Desátir,[48] intimately connected with the Dabistán, to be “a
forgery still more refined (than that of the Brahman who deceived
Wilford),[49] and written in a pretended ancient language, but
fabricated at pleasure.” As he, however, presents no arguments of his
own, but only appeals in a note to the articles written by Silvestre
de Sacy and Erskine, there is no occasion here for a further
observation concerning this question. As to von Schlegel’s opinion
upon the Dabistán, I reserve some remarks upon it for another place.
General arguments, opposed to general objections, may produce
persuasion, but are not sufficient for establishing the positive truth
concerning a subject in question. It is necessary to dive into the
Mahabadian language itself for adequate proofs of its genuineness. I
might have justly hesitated to undertake this task, but found it
already most ably achieved by baron von Hammer,[50] in whom we do not
know which we ought to admire most, his vast store of Oriental
erudition, or the indefatigable activity, with which he diffuses, in
an unceasing series of useful works, the various information derived
not only from the study of the dead letter in books, but also from
converse with the living spirit of the actual Eastern world. This
sagacious reviewer of the Desátir, examining its language, finds
proofs of its authenticity in the nature of its structure and the
syllables of its formation, which, when compared to the modern pure
Persian or Derí, have the same relation to it as the Gothic to the
English; the old Persian and the old Germanic idioms exhibit in the
progress of improvement such a wonderful concordance and analogy as
can by no means be the result of an ingenious combination, nor that of
a lucky accidental coincidence. Thus, the language of the Desátir has
syllables of declension affixed to pronouns, which coincide with those
of the Gothic and Low German, but are not recognisable in the modern
form of the Persian pronouns. This is also the case with some forms of
numerical and other words. The Mahabadian language contains also a
good number of Germanic radicals which cannot be attributed to the
well-known affinity of the German and the modern Persian, because they
are no more to be found in the latter, but solely in the Desátir. This
has besides many English, Greek, and Latin words, a series of which
baron von Hammer exhibits, and――which ought to be duly noticed――a
considerable number of Mahabadian words, belonging also to the
languages enumerated, are sought in vain in any Persian dictionary of
our days! Surely, an accidental coincidence of an invented factitious
language, with Greek, Latin, and Germanic forms would be by far a
greater and more inexplicable miracle, than the great regularity of
this ancient sacred idiom of Persia, and its conformity with the
modern Deri. It is nevertheless from the latter that the forgery is
chiefly inferred.
Moreover, the acute philologer, analysing the Mahabadian language by
itself, points out its essential elements and component parts, that
is, syllables of derivation, formation, and inflexion. Thus he adduces
as syllables of derivation certain vowels, or consonants preceded by
certain vowels; he shows certain recurring terminations to be
syllables of formation for substantives, adjectives, and verbs; he
sets forth particular forms of verbs, and remarkable expressions. All
this he supports by numerous examples taken from the text of the
Desátir. Such a process enabled him to rectify in some places the
Persian translation of the Mahabadian text.
I can but repeat that my only object here is to present the question
in the same state that I found it; and am far from contesting, nay,
readily admit, the possibility of arguments which may lead to a
contrary conclusion. Until such are produced, although not presuming
to decide, I may be permitted to believe that the language of the
Desátir is no forgery; I may range myself on the side of the
celebrated Orientalist mentioned, who, ten years after the date of his
review of the Desátir (ten years which, with him, are a luminous path
of ever-increasing knowledge), had not changed his opinion upon the
language of the Desátir, and assigns to it[51] a place among the
Asiatic dialects; according to him, as it is more nearly related to
the new Persian than to the Zand and the Pehlevi, it may be considered
as a new intermediate ring in the hermetic chain which connects the
Germanic idioms with the old Asiatic languages; it is perhaps the most
ancient dialect of the Deri,[52] spoken, if not in Fars, yet in the
north-eastern countries of the Persian empire, to wit, in Sogd and
Bamian. When it ceased to be spoken, like several other languages of
by-gone ages, the Mahabádian was preserved perhaps in a single book,
or fragment of a book, similar in its solitude to the Hebrew Bible, or
the Persian Zend-Avesta.
At what epoch was the Desátir written?
The epoch assigned to it, according to different views, is the
sixth[53] or the seventh[54] century of our era, even the later time
of the Seljucides, who reigned from A. D. 1037 to 1193. The latter
epoch is adopted as the earliest assignable, by Silvestre de Sacy, who
alleges two reasons for his opinion: the one is his belief that the
new Persian language, in which the Desátir was translated and
commented by the fabricator of the original or Mahabadian text did not
exist earlier; the second reason refers to some parts of the contents
of the Desátir. I shall touch upon both these questions.
It is useless to discuss what can never be ascertained, who the author
of the Desátir was. But this work would be unintelligible without the
Persian translation and commentary. Silvestre de Sacy asks: “Are not
this translation and this commentary, themselves pseudonymous and
apocryphal books, and is not the whole, perhaps, the work of an
impostor of the last century?” In answering this, I shall be guided by
the baron von Hammer, who wrote his review of the Desátir before he
had seen that of the _Journal des Savans_, but, after having perused
the latter, declared that he had nothing to change in his opinion.
Although the commentator, to whom the honor of being the inventor of
the Mahabadian language is ascribed, follows in the main the ancient
text word for word, and substitutes commonly a new for the obsolete
form of the term, yet frequent instances occur (some of which baron
von Hammer adduces) which prove that the interpreter did not clearly
understand the old text, but in place of the true meaning gave his own
arbitrary interpretation. The proper names even are not always the
same. Besides――and this is most important――the doctrines contained in
the Desátir and in the Commentary differ from each other. In the books
of the first Mahabadian kings we find the fundamental ideas of the
Oriental philosophy, such as it was before its migration from Asia to
Europe; but in the commentary we perceive the development of the
Aristotelian scholastic, such as it formed itself among the Asiatics,
when they had, by means of translations, become acquainted with the
Stagirite. We shall revert to this subject hereafter. Whatever it
be――the discrepancies between the original text and the
interpretation, as they would certainly have been avoided by the
author of both, prove that they are the works of two different
persons, probably with the interval of a few centuries between them.
The Persian translator and commentator is said to be the fifth Sassan,
who lived in the time of the Persian king Khusro-Parviz, a
contemporary of the Roman emperor Heraclius, and died only nine years
before the destruction of the ancient Persian monarchy, or in the year
643 of our era. It must be presumed that the five Sassans, the first
of whom was a contemporary of Alexander, 323 years before Christ, were
not held to be immediate successors to each other, but only in the
same line of descent; otherwise an interval of 946 years, from
Alexander to Parviz, comprehending the reign of thirty-one Arsacides
and twenty-two Sassanian princes, would be given to no more than five
individuals, which absurdity ought not to be attributed to the
commentary of the Desátir. In general, so common is it with Asiatics
to deal with names of celebrity as if they were generic names, that it
is very frequently impossible to be positive about the true author of
a work. There appears in the present case nothing to prevent us from
placing the translator and commentator of the Desátir (whether a
Sassan or not) in the seventh century of our era.
The translation and commentary of the Desátir are written in what the
best judges consider as very pure Persian, though ancient, without any
mixture whatever of words of Arabic or Chaldean origin, and
conformable to the grammatical system of modern Persian. But when was
the latter formed?――As the opinion upon this epoch involves that upon
the age of the composition itself, I shall be permitted to take a
rather extensive historical view of this part of the question.
Setting aside the Mahabadian kings mentioned in the Desátir and
Dabistán, we know that Gilshah, Hoshang, Jamshid (true Persian names)
are proclaimed by all Orientalists as founders of the Persian empire
and builders of renowned cities in very remote times. This empire
comprised in its vast extent different nations, speaking three
principal languages, the Zand, Pehlevi, and Parsi. Among these nations
were the _Persæ_, “Persians,” properly and distinctively so called. We
are informed by Herodotus[55] that there were different races of
Persæ, of whom he enumerates eleven. Those who inhabited originally
_Fars_, _Farsistan_, _Persis_,[56] a country double the extent of
England, and gave their name to the whole empire, certainly spoke
their own idiom, the _Parsi_ or _Farsi_. A national language may vary
in its forms, but never can be destroyed as long as any part of the
nation exits; can we doubt that the Persians who, once the masters of
Asia, although afterwards shorn of their power, never ceased to be
independent and formidable, preserved their language to our days?
We may consider as remains of the oldest Persian language, the proper
and other names of persons, places and things mentioned by the most
ancient historians; now, a number of such words, which occur in the
Hebrew Bible,[57] in Herodotus, and other Greek authors, are much
better explained from modern Persian than from Zand and Pehlevi. In
the Armenian language exist words common to the Persian, none common
to the Pehlevi;[58] therefore, in very remote times Persian and not
Pehlevi was the dominant idiom of the Iranian nations with whom the
Armenians were in relation. More positive information is reserved for
posterity, when the cuneiform inscriptions upon the monumental rocks
and ruins, to be found in all directions within the greatest part of
Asia, shall be deciphered by future philologers, not perhaps
possessing greater talent, but better means of information from
all-revealing time than those of our days, who have already
successfully begun the great work――Grotefend, Rask, St. Martin,
Burnouf, Lassen, etc.
Let us now take a hasty review of a few principal epochs of the
Persian empire, with respect to language, beginning only from that
nearest the time, in which Persia was seen and described by Herodotus,
Ctesias, and Xenophon, not without reference to the then existing
national historical records. Khosru (Cyrus) the Persian King, placed
by the Occidentals in the seventh century before our era,[59] having
wrested the sceptre from the hands of the Medes, who spoke Pehlevi,
naturally produced the ascendancy of his national idiom. This did not
sink under his immediate successors, Lohrasp and Gushtasp. Although
under the reign of the latter, who received Zardusht at his court in
the sixth century B. C.,[60] the Zand might have had great currency,
yet it certainly declined after Gushtasp, as his grandson Bahman, the
son of Isfendiar, favored the cultivation of the Parsi.[61] This
language was perfected in Baktria (the original name of which country
is _Bákhter_, “East,” an old Persian word) and in the neighboring
Transoxiana; there the towns _Bamian_, the Thebes of the East, and
_Balkh_, built by Lohrasp and sanctified by Gushtasp’s famous Pyræum,
besides _Merv_ and _Bokhára_, were great seats of Persian arts and
sciences. The Parsi, thus refined, was dominant in all the royal
residences, which changed according to seasons and circumstances; it
was spoken at the court of the Second _Dara_ (Darius Codomanus), and
sounds in his own name and that of his daughters _Sitára_ (Statira),
“star,” and _Roshana_ (Roxana), “splendor,” whom the unfortunate king
resigned with his empire to Alexander.[62] This conqueror, intoxicated
with power, endeavored to exterminate the Mobeds, the guardians of the
national religion and science; he slew many, but dispersed only the
majority. From the death of Alexander (323 B. C.) to the reign of
Ardeshir Babegan (Artaxerxes), the founder of the Sassanian dynasty
(200 A. D.), a period of more than five centuries is almost a blank in
the Persian history; but when the last-mentioned king, the regenerator
of the ancient Iranian monarchy, wishing to restore its laws and
literature, convoked the Mobeds, he found forty thousand of them
before the gate of the fire-temple of Barpa.[63] Ammianus Marcellinus,
in the fourth century of our era attests, that the title of king was
in _Deri_, “court-language,” yet the Pehlevi was spoken concurrently
with it during the reigns of the first twelve Sassanian princes, until
it was proscribed by a formal edict of the thirteenth of them, _Bahram
gor_, in our fifth century. Nushirvan and Parviz, in the sixth
century, were both celebrated for the protection which they granted to
arts and sciences. We have on record a school of physic, poetry,
rhetoric, dialectics, and abstract sciences, flourishing at Gandi
sapor, a town in Khorasan: the Persian must have then been highly
cultivated. We are now in the times of Muhammed; were they not
_Persian_, those Tales, the charm of which, whether in the original or
in the translation, was such, that the Arabian legislator, to
counteract it, summoned up the power of his high-sounding
heaven-inspired eloquence, and wrote a part of the Koran against them?
If he himself had not named the Deri as the purest dialect of the
Persian, what other language could we believe he admired for its
extreme softness so much as to say, that the Almighty used it when he
wished to address the angels in a tone of mildness and beneficence,
whilst he reserved the Arabic for command?[64] Such a fact, or such a
tradition, presupposes a refined, and therefore long-spoken language.
After Muhammed’s death, his fanatic successors attempted to bury under
the ruins of the Persian empire even the memory of its ancient
religion and language――but they did not succeed: the sacred fire was
saved and preserved beyond the Oxus; it was rekindled in Baktria, that
ancient hearth of Persian splendor; there poetry and eloquence
revived, but could not raise their voices until princes of Persian
origin became lieutenants of the Mohammedan khalifs. It was under
Nasr, son of Ahmed the Samanian, in the beginning of our tenth
century, that RUDIGI rose, the first celebrated new Persian poet, but
he found, he did not create the language, more than Homer created
Greek, Dante Italian, or Spenser English. A great author, in whom the
genius of his nation is concentrated, does no more than aptly collect
into a whole the idiom which exists every where in parts, and elicit
its pre-existing resources. Thus under his pen the language can appear
to spring up with all its beauties――as Minerva, equipped in armour,
sprung forth from the head of Jupiter.
Such being the historical indications relative to the Persian
language, we cannot participate in the doubts of Silvestre de Sacy,
nor find Erskine[65] just in disdaining even to make a comment upon
the credibility of the hypothesis “that the Persian language was
completely formed in the age of the latter Sassanians.” It would be
rather a matter of wonder that the Parsi, related to the most ancient
and most cultivated language in the world, should not have been much
sooner fitted for the harmonious lays of Ferdusi!――a matter of wonder
indeed, that the Persians, who taught the Arabs so much of their
religion――heaven and hell, should have remained behind them in the
refinement of their idiom!――that they, who could scoff at the _Tazis_
as eaters of lizards, should not have possessed, in the seventh
century, a language to contend with that people, who themselves
possessed celebrated poets long before Muhammed![66]
It is for ever regrettable that overpowering Muhammedism should have
spoiled the original admirable simplicity of one of the softest
languages in the world, by the intrusion of the sonorous but harsher
words of Arabic, and imposed upon us the heavy tax of learning two
languages for understanding one; but, as the translation of the
Desátir is free from words of an Arabic or Chaldean origin, should we
not fairly conclude, that it was executed before the Muhammedan
conquest of Persia? So did Norris, and so Erskine――I can but
think――would have done, if his judgment and penetration, usually so
right and acute, had not been prepossessed by the idea of an
imposture, which he had assumed as proved or self-evident, whilst this
was the very point of contestation. Thus, “the very freedom from words
of foreign growth, which the learned natives consider as a mark of
authenticity, appeared to him the proof of an artificial and
fabricated style.”
If even there are some Arabic words to be found in the text and the
translation of the Desátir, this affords no fair inference that these
works had not been composed before the Arabs conquered Persia, because
those words might have come from Pehlevi, in which there is a mixture
of Arabic, and there are also Persian words in the Koran; most
naturally, as there subsisted from times immemorial relations between
Persia and Arabia.
What I have said will, if I am not mistaken, sufficiently justify the
conclusion, that the Persian idiom could in the seventh century have
attained the regularity and form of the present Persian, such at
least, as it appears in the Commentary of the Desátir, not without a
very perceptible tincture of obsoleteness.
I need scarce remark that the title _asmáni_, “heavenly,” belongs
exclusively to the superstitious admiration with which the Desátir is
viewed. Nor are its fifteen books to be taken for sacred works of so
many prophets who succeeded each other after such long intervals of
time; yet nothing prevents us, as I hope to show, from believing some
parts of them very ancient. Neither are these of the same antiquity.
Thus, prophecies which are certainly interpolations made after the
events, occur in them, not otherwise than in the Indian Puránas, the
fundamental parts of which are nevertheless now admitted to be as
ancient as the Vedas themselves. We find in the two last books of the
Desátir are mentioned: the contest between the Abbasides and the
descendants of Ali; the adoption of Muhammedism by almost the totality
of Iran; inimical sects, and the power of the Turcomans superseding
that of the Arabs; the latter parts must certainly have been composed
after the taking of Bagdád by Hulogu in 1258 of our era. The fifteenth
book of the Desátir is probably apocryphal.
As to the doctrine of the Desátir, Erskine says:[67] “I consider that
the whole of the peculiar doctrines, ascribed to Mahabad and Hoshang,
is borrowed from the mystical doctrines of the Persian Súfis, and from
the ascetic tenets and practices of the Yogis and Sanyasis, of India
who drew many of their opinions from the Vedanta-school.” But this
involves the great historical question, concerning the origin of
Súfism and the whole Indian philosophy, which is by some (not without
foundation) believed to have been spread throughout a great part of
Asia. It is quite gratuitous, I may say, to regard them “as having had
no existence before the time of Azar Kaivan[68] and his disciples in
the reigns of Akbar and Jehanguir, and as having been devised and
reduced into form between 200 and 300 years ago in the school of
Sipasi-philosophers.” Nor can I admit as better founded the following
insinuations of the same ingenious critic: “Nor shall I inquire
whether many of the acute metaphysical remarks that abound in the
commentary and the general style of argument which it employs have not
rather proceeded from the schoolmen of the West, than directly from
the Oriental or Aristotelian philosophy.” To this may be answered: It
is highly problematic, whether the translator of the Desátir ever knew
any schoolman of the West, but it is certain that he, as an Asiatic
and a Persian, knew the Oriental philosophy, the fundamentals of which
were preserved in the first books of the Desátir, as we have already
said; but the commentator could but participate in the modification,
which the ancient doctrine had undergone in his age, after its return
from the West to the East, in translations of Greek philosophical
works into Asiatic languages. Thus, in the Desátir and its
commentary――I borrow the words of baron von Hammer:――“We see already
germinating the double seed of reason and light, from which sprung up
the double tree of rational and ideal philosophy,”[69] which spread
its ramifications over the whole world, and lives and flourishes even
in our times.
The commentator was no ordinary man: living, as we may believe, in the
first half of the seventh century, he possessed the sciences of his
learned age; flourishing under the reign of king Khosru Parviz, who
professed the ancient Persian religion in his letter to a Roman
emperor of the East,[70] and tore to pieces Muhammed’s written
invitation to adopt Islam[71]; in this yet unshaken state of national
independence, the fifth Sassan preserved pure his creed and style from
the influence of the Arabian prophet. The translator and commentator
of the Desátir says of himself:[72] “I too have written a celebrated
book under the name of _Do giti_, ‘the two worlds’, full of admirable
wisdom, which I have derived from the most exalted intelligence, and
in the eminent book of the famous prophet, the King of Kings, Jemshid,
there is a great deal, concerning the unity which only distinguished
Asceties (_Hertasp_) can comprehend, and on the subject of this
transcendant knowledge I have also composed a great volume _Pertú
están_, ‘the mansion of light,’ which I have adorned by evidence
deduced from reason, and by texts from the _Desátir_ and _Avesta_, so
that _the soul of every man_ may derive pleasure from it. And it is
one of the books of the secrets of the great God.”
This is a most important declaration. The commentator considered the
Desátir and the Avesta as sources of delight TO ALL MEN. And he was
right. The doctrine of the former work now under consideration is
found every where, not denied either by the ancients or moderns; it is
the property of mankind. As such, “_it does not belong to any
particular tribe or nation_:” in which point, although in quite
another sense, we agree with Erskine, but we may dissent from the
learned author, when he taxes it to be “a religious or philosophical
imposture, which needed the support of a fabricated language.” After
careful examination, I must conscientiously declare, I discover no
imposture aimed at by any artifice; there was no secret to be
concealed; nothing to be disguised; the Mahabadian religion is as open
as its temple, the vault of heaven, and as clear as the lights,
flaming in their ethereal attitudes; its book is a sort of catechism
of Asiatic religion; its prayer a litany of Oriental devotion, in
which any man may join his voice.
Thus have I endeavored, to the best of my power, to exhibit faithfully
what has hitherto been alleged for and against the authenticity of the
book, which is one of the principal authorities of the Dabistán. If
the author of this latter work was, as the often-quoted ingenuous
author supposes, “in strict intimacy with the sects of enthusiasts by
whom the Desátir was venerated, and whose rule it was,” we may so much
the more rely upon the truth of his account concerning such a
religious association. If he professed the new religion, which the
emperor Akbar had endeavored to found, as this was a revival of the
ancient Persian religion, we may reasonably presume, that he would
have searched, and brought to light writings concerning it which were
concealed, neglected, or little known; he would have cautiously
scrutinized the authenticity of the documents, and conscientiously
respected the sacred sources of that faith, which, after a careful
examination of all others, deserved his preference; nothing justifies
the supposition, that he would forge any thing himself, or
countenance, or not be able to detect, the forgery of others. However
this be, Mohsan Fani’s character will be best known by the perusal of
his work; after a rapid synopsis of its contents, to which I will now
proceed, I shall be permitted to point out, as briefly as possible,
some of the merits and defects conspicuous in his composition.
[20] See note, vol. I. p. 20.
[21] Ibid., p. 44.
[22] Calcutta edition, p. 30, line 6.
[23] See vol. I. p. 534.
[24] _Ibid._, p. 65.
[25] M. Eugène Burnouf, to whose most valuable judgment I
had the pleasure to submit the question, prefers the
derivation from _bhásh_, because this word in Zend would be
_wâsh_, as the Zend _w_ represents exactly the Sanscrit
_bh_, which aspiration did not exist in the ancient idiom of
Bactrian Asia. This sagacious philologer hinted at a
comparison with the Persian _usta_, or _awesta_, upon which
in a subsequent note.
[26] See the Persian text of the Dasátir, p. 377.
[27] _Tableau de l’Empire ottoman_, by M. d’Ohson, t. II. p.
70.
[28] _Journal des Savans_, _février_ 1821, p. 74. The
Persian passage which de Sacy quotes, and in which there is
_Destánir_ for _Dasátir_, is taken from the text published
by Gladwin, and not from the printed Calcutta edition.
[29] See Asiatic Journal and Monthly Register for British
India and its Dependencies, vol. VIII., from July to Dec.
1819, p. 357.
[30] The _Desátir_, or sacred writings of the ancient
Persian prophets in the original tongue; with the ancient
Persian version, and commentary of the fifth Sasan;
published by Mulla Firuz Bin-i-Kaus. Bombay, 1818. Mulla
Firuz is supposed to possess the only copy of the Desátir
extant. He allowed sir John Malcolm to take a copy of it,
which, by some accident, was lost by Doctor Leyden――(See
Transact. of the Lit. Soc. of Bombay, pp. 342 and 349).
[31] Mohsan Fani marks the time of his composing the
Dabistan (vol. II. p. 50) to be the year of the Hejira 1055
(A. D. 1645).
[32] See _Journal des Savans_, No. for January, 1821, p. 16.
[33] Lucretius, book V., Transl. of Dr. Creech:
“―― ―― putare aliquem tum nomina distribuisse
Rebus, et inde homines didicisse vocabula prima
Desipere est.”
[34] Richardson’s Dictionary, preface, lxvii.
[35] This man, who never told his true name, was from the
age of fifteen to seventeen a private teacher――then passed
for an Irishman――went to Rome as a pilgrim with a habit
stolen from before an altar where it was lying as a votive
offering of another pilgrim――wandered about in Germany,
Brabant, Flanders――indolent, abject, shameless, covered with
vermin and sores――entered the military service of Holland,
which he left to become waiter in a coffee-house in
Aix-la-Chapelle――enlisted in the troops of the elector of
Cologne. He acted all these parts, with those
above-mentioned, before he was baptised under the name of
George, by a Scotch clergyman, and, having learned English,
passed over to England to be protected by Compton, the
lord-bishop of London. At the expense of the latter, he
studied at Oxford――became a preceptor――chaplain of a
regiment――fell back into indolence, and lived upon
alms.――(See A New and General Dictionary, London, 1798, vol.
XII; and _Vie de plusieurs Personnages célèbres des Temps
anciens et modernes, par C. A. Walckenaer, membre de
l’Institut, tome II._ 1830.)
[36] This change took place in his thirty-second year――he
learned Hebrew and became an honest man, esteemed by Samuel
Johnson; he wrote eleven articles in a well-known work, the
Universal History, and his own Life at the age of
seventy-three years; the latter work was published after his
death, which happened in his eighty-fourth year, in 1763.
[37] See _Notices et Extraits des Manuscrits_, vol. IX. pp.
365-396.
[38] I am here applying to the forger of a language what
Lucretius, in continuation of his above quoted verses (p.
xxx), urges against the belief that a single individual
could ever have been the inventor of human speech.
[39] By Norris, _Asiatic Journal_, vol. IX., November, 1820,
p. 430.
[40] _Journal des Savans_, February, 1821, pp. 69-70.
[41] See Transact. of the Lit. Soc. of Bombay, vol. II.: “On
the Authenticity of the Desátir, with remarks on the Account
of the Mahabadi Religion contained in the Dabistan,” by
William Erskine, esq., p. 360.
[42] The Asiatic Journal and Monthly Register for British
India and its Dependencies, Novemb. 1820, p. 421 _et seq._
[43] The work quoted, p. 360.
[44] The Asiatic Journal, November, 1820, p. 421 _et seq._
[45] An Essay on the best means of ascertaining the
affinities of Oriental languages, by baron W. Humboldt, in
the Transactions of the Royal Asiatic Society of Great
Britain and Ireland, vol. II. part I. p. 213.
[46] Colonel Harriot on the Oriental Origin of the Gypsies.
_Ibid._, 518.
[47] Erskine, _loco cit._, p. 372.
[48] See _Réflexions sur l’Étude des Langues asiatiques,
adressées à sir James Mackintosh_. Bonn, 1832, pp. 51-52.
[49] See Asiatic Researches, vol. VIII. Lond. ed. 8. p. 254.
[50] See _Heidelberger Jahrbücher der Literatar Vom Jänner
te Juni 1823_, Nᵒˢ 6. 12. 13. 18. 20.
[51] See _Journal asiatique, tome XII. juillet 1833_, pp.
24-26.
[52] _Ibidem_, pp. 20-21. Deri was spoken on the other side
of the Oxus, and at the foot of the Paropamisus in Balkh,
Meru, in the Badakhshan, in Bokhara and Bamian. The Pehlevi
was used in Media proper, in the towns of Rai, Hamadan,
Ispahan, Nehawend, and Tabriz, the capital of Azar
bíján.――Beside the Deri and Pehlevi, Persian dictionaries
reckon five other dialects, altogether twelve dialects, of
ancient and modern Persian.
[53] _Tholuck_. _Sufismus, sive Theosophia Pantheistica_, p.
111.
[54] Norris, Asiatic Journal, November, 1820, p. 430.
[55] Clio, lib. I.
[56] In the Bible it is called Paras, or Faras, and reckoned
as extensive as Great and Little Armenia, or as Hungary,
Transylvania, Slavonia, Croatia, and Dalmatia together.――(See
_Gatterer’s Weltgeschichte II^{ter} Theil, Seite 9_.)
[57] In the books of Ezra, Nehemiah, and Esther.
[58] See _Observations sur les Monumens historiques de
l’ancienne Perse, par Étienne Quatremère_. _Journal des
Savans_, _juin et juillet_ 1840, pp. 347-348.
[59] The Orientals place him in the tenth century B. C.
[60] According to Richardson (see the preface of his Dict.,
p. vi), the Farsi was peculiarly cultivated by the great and
learned, above 1200 years before the Muhammedan era, _i. e._
above 600 years B. C., which epoch is commonly assigned to
Gushtasp’s reign.
[61] See Hammer’s _Schöne Redekünste Persiens, Seite 3 et
seq._
[62] Strabo, who flourished in the beginning of the
Christian era, and drew his information mostly from the
historians of Alexander, refers probably to the time of the
Macedonian conquest, when he says (xv. 2, § 8, fol. 724,
edit. Cas.): that the Medians, Persians, Arians, Baktrians,
and Sogdians spoke almost the same language. This probably
was that of the then leading nation, the Persian.
[63] Hammer, _loc. cit._, p. 7.
[64] Works of sir W. Jones, vol. V. p. 426, Transactions of
the Literary Society of Bombay, vol. II. p. 297.
[65] _Loco cit._, p. 363.
[66] See the preface to the most valuable work _Le Divan
d’Amro’lkais_, par le baron Mac Guckin de Slane, Paris,
1837, pp. viii and ix. The learned author confirms that
celebrated Arabian poems existed before the introduction of
the Muhammedan religion, which, for a certain time, averted
the Arabs from the cultivation of poetry and history. We
shall here add (which would have been more appropriately
placed in the note upon Amro’lKais, in vol. III p. 65, and
will correct the same) that this poet (see _loc. cit._, p.
xvi _et seq._) flourished at an epoch anterior to Muhammed,
and died probably before the birth of that extraordinary man.
[67] _Loco citato_, p. 372.
[68] See vol. I. pp. 87 _et seq._
[69] _Heidelberger Jahrbücher, loc. cit. Seite_ 313.
[70] The Dabistán (see Pers. text, Calcutta edit., p. 69,
and English transl., vol. I. p. 145) quotes verses
containing this profession, addressed by Khosru Parviz to a
Roman emperor, whose name, however, is not mentioned. During
the reign of this Persian king, two emperors ruled in the
East, namely, Mauritius, whose daughter Parviz married,
and Heraclius, by whom he was defeated towards the end of
his life. I found it probable, but had no authority to
assert (see vol. I. p. 145, note 2), that the above-stated
profession was made to Mauritius; but those verses by
themselves deserve attention, as they establish the adherence
of Parviz to the religion of Hoshang, in contradiction to
several historians, according to whom he adopted Christianity:
this assertion seems founded upon his great attachment to
the celebrated _Mary_, or _Chirín_, his Christian wife, and
daughter of a Christian emperor, the said Mauritius.
[71] Muhammed, when informed of the ignominious reception
which the Persian king gave to his letter and ambassador,
said: “God will tear his empire, as he tore my letter, to
pieces.”――(Herbelot.)
[72] The Desátir, p. 99.