Syphilis also, which at the end of the xvth century began to infect

Europe, is ignored by The Nights. I do not say it actually began:

diseases do not begin except with the dawn of humanity; and their

history, as far as we know, is simple enough. They are at first sporadic

and comparatively non-lethal: at certain epochs which we can determine,

and for reasons which as yet we cannot, they break out into epidemics

raging with frightful violence: they then subside into the endemic state

and lastly they return to the milder sporadic form. For instance,

“English cholera” was known of old: in 1831 (Oct. 26) the Asiatic type

took its place and now, after sundry violent epidemics, the disease is

becoming endemic on the Northern seaboard of the Mediterranean, notably

in Spain and Italy. So small-pox (Al-judrí, vol. i. 254) passed over

from Central Africa to Arabia in the year of Mohammed’s birth (A.D. 570)

and thence overspread the civilised world, as an epidemic, an endemic

and a sporadic successively. The “Greater Pox” has appeared in human

bones of prehistoric graves and Moses seems to mention gonorrhœa (Levit.

xv. 12). Passing over allusions in Juvenal and Martial,[186] we find

Eusebius relating that Galerius died (A.D. 302) of ulcers on the

genitals and other parts of his body; and, about a century afterwards,

Bishop Palladius records that one Hero, after conversation with a

prostitute, fell a victim to an abscess on the penis (phagedænic

shanker?). In 1347 the famous Joanna of Naples founded (æt. 23), in her

town of Avignon, a bordel whose inmates were to be medically inspected—a

measure to which England (proh pudor!) still objects. In her Statuts du

Lieu-publique d’Avignon, No. iv. she expressly mentions the _Mal vengut

de paillardise_. Such houses, says Ricord who studied the subject since

1832, were common in France after A.D. 1200; and sporadic venereals were

known there. But in A.D. 1493–94 an epidemic broke out with alarming

intensity at Barcelona, as we learn from the “Tractado llamado fructo de

todos los Sanctos contra el mal serpentino, venido de la Isla espanola,”

of Rodrigo Ruiz Días, the specialist. In Santo Domingo the disease was

common under the names Hipas, Guaynaras and Taynastizas: hence the

opinion in Europe that it arose from the mixture of European and

“Indian” blood.[187] Some attributed it to the Gypsies who migrated to

Western Europe in the xvth century:[188] others to the Moriscos expelled

from Spain. But the pest got its popular name after the violent outbreak

at Naples in A.D. 1493–4, when Charles VIII. of Anjou with a large army

of mercenaries, Frenchmen, Spaniards, and Germans, attacked Ferdinand

II. Thence it became known as the Mal de Naples and Morbus Gallicus—una

gallica being still the popular term in neo-Latin lands—and the “French

disease” in England. As early as July 1496 Marin Sanuto (Journal i. 171)

describes with details the “Mal Franzoso.” The scientific “syphilis”

dates from Fracastori’s poem (A.D. 1521) in which Syphilus the Shepherd

is struck like Job, for abusing the sun. After crippling a Pope (Sixtus

IV.[189]) and killing a King (Francis I.) the Grosse Vérole began to

abate its violence, under the effects of mercury it is said; and became

endemic, a stage still shown at Scherlievo near Fiume, where legend says

it was implanted by the Napoleonic soldiery. The Aleppo and other

“buttons” also belong apparently to the same grade. Elsewhere it settled

as a sporadic and now it appears to be dying out while gonorrhœa is on

the increase.[190]

The Nights, I have said, belongs to the days before coffee (A.D. 1550)

and tobacco (A.D. 1650) had overspread the East. The former, which

derives its name from the Káfá or Káffá province, lying south of

Abyssinia proper and peopled by the Sidáma Gallas, was introduced to

Mokha of Al-Yaman in A.D. 1429–30 by the Shaykh al-Sházili who lies

buried there, and found a congenial name in the Arabic Kahwah = old

wine.[191] In The Nights (Mac. Edit.) it is mentioned twelve times[192];

but never in the earlier tales: except in the case of Kamar al-Zaman II.

it evidently does not belong to the epoch and we may fairly suspect the

scribe. In the xvith century coffee began to take the place of wine in

the nearer East; and it gradually ousted the classical drink from daily

life and from folk-tales.

It is the same with tobacco, which is mentioned only once by The Nights

(cmxxxi.), in conjunction with meat, vegetables and fruit and where it

is called “Tábah.” Lane (iii. 615) holds it to be the work of a copyist;

but in the same tale of Abu Kir and Abu Sir, sherbet and coffee appear

to have become en vogue, in fact to have gained the ground they now

hold. The result of Lord Macartney’s Mission to China was a suggestion

that smoking might have originated spontaneously in the Old World.[193]

This is undoubtedly true. The Bushmen and other wild tribes of Southern

Africa threw their Dakhá (_cannabis indica_) on the fire and sat round

it inhaling the intoxicating fumes. Smoking without tobacco was easy

enough. The North American Indians of the Great Red Pipe Stone Quarry

and those who lived above the line where nicotiana grew, used the

kinni-kinik or bark of the red willow and some seven other

succedanea.[194] But tobacco proper, which soon superseded all materials

except hemp and opium, was first adopted by the Spaniards of Santo

Domingo in A.D. 1496 and reached England in 1565. Hence the word, which,

amongst the so-called Red Men, denoted the pipe, the container, not the

contained, spread over the Old World as a generic term with additions,

like “Tutun,”[195] for especial varieties. The change in English manners

brought about by the cigar after dinner has already been noticed; and

much of the modified sobriety of the present day may be attributed to

the influence of the Holy Herb en cigarette. Such, we know from history

was its effect amongst Moslems; and the normal wine-parties of The

Nights suggest that the pipe was unknown even when the latest tales were

written.

C.

We know absolutely nothing of the author or authors who produced our

marvellous Recueil. Galland justly observes (Epist. Dedic.), “probably

this great work is not by a single hand; for how can we suppose that one

man alone could own a fancy fertile enough to invent so many ingenious

fictions?” Mr. Lane, and Mr. Lane alone, opined that the work was

written in Egypt by one person or at most by two, one ending what the

other had begun, and that he or they had re-written the tales and

completed the collection by new matter composed or arranged for the

purpose. It is hard to see how the distinguished Arabist came to such a

conclusion: at most it can be true only of the editors and scribes of

MSS. evidently copied from each other, such as the Mac. and the Bul.

texts. As the Reviewer (Forbes Falconer?) in the “Asiatic Journal” (vol.

xxx., 1839) says, “Every step we have taken in the collation of these

agreeable fictions has confirmed us in the belief that the work called

the _Arabian Nights_ is rather a vehicle for stories, partly fixed and

partly arbitrary, than a collection fairly deserving, from its constant

identity with itself, the name of a distinct work, and the reputation of

having wholly emanated from the same inventive mind. To say nothing of

the improbability of supposing that one individual, with every license

to build upon the foundation of popular stories, a work which had once

received a definite form from a single writer, would have been

multiplied by the copyist with some regard at least to his arrangement

of words as well as matter. But the various copies we have seen bear

about as much mutual resemblance as if they had passed through the

famous process recommended for disguising a plagiarism: ‘Translate your

English author into French and again into English.’”

Moreover, the style of the several Tales, which will be considered in a

future page (§ iii.), so far from being homogeneous, is heterogeneous in

the extreme. Different nationalities show themselves; West Africa, Egypt

and Syria are all represented and, while some authors are intimately

familiar with Baghdad, Damascus and Cairo, others are equally ignorant.

All copies, written and printed, absolutely differ in the last tales and

a measure of the divergence can be obtained by comparing the Bresl.

Edit. with the Mac. text: indeed it is my conviction that the MSS.

preserved in Europe would add sundry volumes full of tales to those

hitherto translated; and here the Wortley Montagu copy can be taken as a

test. We may, I believe, safely compare the history of The Nights with

the so-called Homeric poems, the Iliad and the Odyssey, a collection of

immortal ballads and old Epic formulæ and verses traditionally handed

down from rhapsode to rhapsode, incorporated in a slowly-increasing body

of poetry and finally welded together about the age of Pericles.

To conclude. From the data above given I hold myself justified in

drawing the following deductions:—

1. The framework of the book is purely Persian perfunctorily

Arabised; the archetype being the Hazár Afsánah.[196]

2. The oldest tales, such as Sindibad (the Seven Wazirs) and King

Jili’ád, may date from the reign of Al-Mansur, eighth century A.D.

3. The thirteen tales mentioned above (p. 81) as the nucleus of the

Repertory, together with “Dalilah the Crafty,”[197] may be placed in

our tenth century.

4. The latest tales, notably Kamar al-Zaman the Second and Ma’aruf

the Cobbler, are as late as the sixteenth century.

5. The work assumed its present form in the thirteenth century.

6. The author is unknown for the best reason; there never was one:

for information touching the editors and copyists we must await the

fortunate discovery of some MSS.

§ II.

THE NIGHTS IN EUROPE.

The history of The Nights in Europe is one of slow and gradual

development. The process was begun (1704–17) by Galland, a Frenchman,

continued (1823) by Von Hammer, an Austro-German, and finished by Mr.

John Payne (1882–84) an Englishman. But we must not forget that it is

wholly and solely to the genius of the Gaul that Europe owes The

“Arabian Nights’ Entertainments” over which Western childhood and youth

have spent so many spelling hours. Antoine Galland was the first to

discover the marvellous fund of material for the story-teller buried in

the Oriental mine; and he had in a high degree that art of telling a

tale which is far more captivating than culture or scholarship. Hence

his delightful version (or perversion) became one of the world’s

classics and at once made Sheherazade and Dinarzarde, Haroun Alraschid,

the Calendars and a host of other personages as familiar to the home

reader as Prospero, Robinson Crusoe, Lemuel Gulliver and Dr. Primrose.

Without the name and fame won for the work by the brilliant paraphrase

of the learned and single-minded Frenchman, Lane’s curious hash and

latinized English, at once turgid and emasculated, would have found few

readers. Mr. Payne’s admirable version appeals to the Orientalist and

the “stylist,” not to the many-headed; and mine to the anthropologist

and student of Eastern manners and customs. Galland did it and alone he

did it: his fine literary _flaire_, his pleasing style, his polished

taste and perfect tact at once made his work take high rank in the

republic of letters nor will the immortal fragment ever be superseded in

the infallible judgment of childhood. As the Encyclopædia Britannica has

been pleased to ignore this excellent man and admirable Orientalist,

numismatologist and littérateur, the reader may not be unwilling to see

a short sketch of his biography.[198]

Antoine Galland was born in A.D. 1646 of peasant parents “poor and

honest” at Rollot, a little bourg in Picardy some two leagues from

Montdidier. He was a seventh child and his mother, left a widow in early

life and compelled to earn her livelihood, saw scant chance of educating

him when the kindly assistance of a Canon of the Cathedral and President

of the Collége de Noyon relieved her difficulties. In this establishment

Galland studied Greek and Hebrew for ten years, after which the “strait

thing at home” apprenticed him to a trade. But he was made for letters;

he hated manual labour and he presently removed en cachette to Paris,

where he knew only an ancient kinswoman. She introduced him to a

priestly relative of the Canon of Noyon, who in turn recommended him to

the “Sous-principal” of the Collége Du Plessis. Here he made such

notable progress in Oriental studies, that M. Petitpied, a Doctor of the

Sorbonne, struck by his abilities, enabled him to study at the Collége

Royal and eventually to catalogue the Eastern MSS. in the great

ecclesiastical Society. Thence he passed to the Collége Mazarin, where a

Professor, M. Godouin, was making an experiment which might be revived

to advantage in our present schools. He collected a class of boys, aged

about four, and proposed to teach them Latin speedily and easily by

making them converse in the classical language as well as read and write

it.[199] Galland, his assistant, had not time to register success or

failure before he was appointed attaché-secretary to M. de Nointel named

in 1660 Ambassadeur de France for Constantinople. His special province

was to study the dogmas and doctrines and to obtain official

attestations concerning the articles of the Orthodox (or Greek)

Christianity which had then been a subject of lively discussion amongst

certain Catholics, especially Arnauld (Antoine) and Claude the Minister,

and which even in our day occasionally crops up amongst

“Protestants.”[200] Galland, by frequenting the cafés and listening to

the tale-teller, soon mastered Romaic and grappled with the religious

question, under the tuition of a deposed Patriarch and of sundry Matráns

or Metropolitans, whom the persecutions of the Pashas had driven for

refuge to the Palais de France. M. de Nointel, after settling certain

knotty points in the Capitulations, visited the harbour-towns of the

Levant and the “Holy Places,” including Jerusalem, where Galland copied

epigraphs, sketched monuments and collected antiques, such as the

marbles in the Baudelot Gallery of which Père Dom Bernard de Montfaucon

presently published specimens in his “Palæographia Græca,” etc.

(Parisiis, 1708).

In Syria Galland was unable to buy a copy of The Nights: as he expressly

states in his Epistle Dedicatory, _il a fallu le faire venir de Syrie_.

But he prepared himself for translating it by studying the manners and

customs, the religion and superstitions of the people; and in 1675,

leaving his chief, who was ordered back to Stambul, he returned to

France. In Paris his numismatic fame recommended him to MM. Vaillant,

Carcary and Giraud who strongly urged a second visit to the Levant, for

the purpose of collecting, and he set out without delay. In 1691 he made

a third journey, travelling at the expense of the Compagnie des

Indes-Orientales, with the main object of making purchases for the

Library and Museum of Colbert the magnificent. The commission ended

eighteen months afterwards with the changes of the Company, when Colbert

and the Marquis de Louvois caused him to be created “Antiquary to the

King,” Louis le Grand, and charged him with collecting coins and medals

for the royal cabinet. As he was about to leave Smyrna, he had a narrow

escape from the earthquake and subsequent fire which destroyed some

fifteen thousand of the inhabitants: he was buried in the ruins; but,

his kitchen being cold as becomes a philosopher’s, he was dug out

unburnt.[201]

Galland again returned to Paris where his familiarity with Arabic and

Hebrew, Persian and Turkish recommended him to MM. Thevenot and Bignon:

this first President of the Grand Council acknowledged his services by a

pension. He also became a favourite with D’Herbelot whose Bibliothèque

Orientale, left unfinished at his death, he had the honour of completing

and prefacing.[202] President Bignon died within the twelvemonth, which

made Galland attach himself in 1697 to M. Foucault, Councillor of State

and Intendant (governor) of Caen in Lower Normandy, then famous for its

academy: in his new patron’s fine library and numismatic collection he

found materials for a long succession of works, including a translation

of the Koran.[203] They recommended him strongly to the literary world

and in 1701 he was made a member of the Académie des Inscriptions et

Belles Lettres.

At Caen Galland issued in 1704,[204] the first part of his Mille et une

Nuits, Contes Arabes traduits en François which at once became famous as

“The Arabian Nights’ Entertainments.” Mutilated, fragmentary and

paraphrastic though the tales were, the glamour of imagination, the

marvel of the miracles and the gorgeousness and magnificence of the

scenery at once secured an exceptional success: it was a revelation in

romance, and the public recognised that it stood in presence of a

monumental literary work. France was a-fire with delight at a something

so new, so unconventional, so entirely without purpose, religious, moral

or philosophical: the Oriental wanderer in his stately robes was a

startling surprise to the easy-going and utterly corrupt Europe of the

_ancien régime_ with its indecently tight garments and perfectly loose

morals. “Ils produisirent,” said Charles Nodier, a genius in his way,

“dès le moment de leur publication, cet effet qui assure aux productions

de l’esprit une vogue populaire, quoiqu’ils appartinssent à une

littérature peu connue en France; et que ce genre de composition admît

ou plutôt exigeât des détails de moeurs, de caractère, de costume et de

localités absolument étrangers à toutes les idées établies dans nos

contes et nos romans. On fut étonné du charme qui résultait de leur

lecture. C’est que la vérité des sentimens, la nouveauté des tableaux,

une imagination féconde en prodiges, un coloris plein de chaleur,

l’attrait d’une sensibilité sans prétention, et le sel d’un comique sans

caricature, c’est que l’esprit et le naturel enfin plaisent partout, et

plaisent à tout le monde.”[205]

The Contes Arabes at once made Galland’s name and a popular tale is told

of them and him known to all reviewers who, however, mostly mangle it.

In the Biographie Universelle of Michaud[206] we find:—Dans les deux

premiers volumes de ces contes l’exorde était toujours, “Ma chère sœur,

si vous ne dormez pas, faites-nous un de ces contes que vous savez.”

Quelques jeunes gens, ennuyés de cette plate uniformité, allèrent une

nuit qu’il faisait très-grand froid, frapper à la porte de l’auteur, qui

courut en chemise à sa fenêtre. Après l’avoir fait morfondre quelque

temps par diverses questions insignifiantes, ils terminèrent en lui

disant, “Ah, Monsieur Galland, si vous ne dormez pas, faites-nous un de

ces beaux contes que vous savez si bien.” Galland profita de la leçon,

et supprima dans les volumes suivants le préambule qui lui avait attiré

la plaisanterie. This legend has the merit of explaining why the

Professor so soon gave up the Arab framework which he had deliberately

adopted.

The Nights was at once translated from the French[207] though when,

where and by whom no authority seems to know. In Lowndes’

“Bibliographer’s Manual” the English Editio Princeps is thus noticed,

“Arabian Nights’ Entertainments translated from the French, London,

1724, 12mo, 6 vols.” and a footnote states that this translation, very

inaccurate and vulgar in its diction, was often reprinted. In 1712

Addison introduced into the Spectator (No. 535, Nov. 13) the Story of

Alnaschar (= Al-Nashshár, the Sawyer) and says that his remarks on Hope

“may serve as a moral to an Arabian tale which I find translated into

French by Monsieur Galland.” His version appears, from the tone and

style, to have been made by himself, and yet in that year a second

English edition had appeared. The nearest approach to the Edit. Princeps

in the British Museum[208] is a set of six volumes bound in three and

corresponding with Galland’s first half dozen. Tomes i. and ii. are from

the fourth edition of 1713, Nos. iii. and iv. are from the second of

1712 and v. and vi. are from the third of 1715. It is conjectured that

the two first volumes were reprinted several times apart from their

subsequents, as was the fashion of the day; but all is mystery. We (my

friends and I) have turned over scores of books in the British Museum,

the University Library and the Advocates’ Libraries of Edinburgh and

Glasgow: I have been permitted to put the question in “Notes and

Queries” and in the “Antiquary”; but all our researches hitherto have

been in vain.

The popularity of The Nights in England must have rivalled their vogue

in France, judging from the fact that in 1713, or nine years after

Galland’s Edit. Prin. appeared they had already reached a fourth issue.

Even the ignoble national jealousy which prompted Sir William Jones

grossly to abuse that valiant scholar, Auquetil du Perron, could not mar

their popularity. But as there are men who cannot read Pickwick, so they

were not wanting who spoke of “Dreams of the distempered fancy of the

East.”[209] “When the work was first published in England,” says Henry

Webber,[210] “it seems to have made a considerable impression upon the

public.” Pope in 1720 sent two volumes (French? or English?) to Bishop

Atterbury, without making any remark on the work; but, from his very

silence, it may be presumed that he was not displeased with the perusal.

The bishop, who does not appear to have joined a relish for the flights

of imagination to his other estimable qualities, expressed his dislike

of these tales pretty strongly and stated it to be his opinion, formed

on the frequent descriptions of female dress, that they were the work of

some Frenchman (Petis de la Croix, a mistake afterwards corrected by

Warburton). The _Arabian Nights_, however, quickly made their way to

public favour. “We have been informed of a singular instance of the

effect they produced soon after their first appearance. Sir James

Stewart, Lord Advocate for Scotland, having one Saturday evening found

his daughters employed in reading these volumes, seized them with a

rebuke for spending the evening before the ‘Sawbbath’ in such worldly

amusement; but the grave advocate himself became a prey to the

fascination of the tales, being found on the morning of the Sabbath

itself employed in their perusal, from which he had not risen the whole

night.” As late as 1780 Dr. Beattie professed himself uncertain whether

they were translated or fabricated by M. Galland; and, while Dr. Pusey

wrote of them “Noctes Mille et Una dictæ, quæ in omnium firmè populorum

cultiorum linguas conversæ, in deliciis omnium habentur, manibusque

omnium terentur,”[211] the amiable Carlyle, in the gospel according to

Saint Froude, characteristically termed them “downright lies” and

forbade the house to such “unwholesome literature.” What a sketch of

character in two words!

The only fault found in France with the Contes Arabes was that their

style is _peu correcte_; in fact they want classicism. Yet all Gallic

imitators, Trébutien included, have carefully copied their leader and

Charles Nodier remarks:—“Il me semble que l’on n’a pas rendu assez de

justice au style de Galland. Abondant sans être prolixe, naturel et

familier sans être lâche ni trivial, il ne manque jamais de cette

élégance qui résulte de la facilité, et qui présente je ne sais quel

mélange de la naïveté de Perrault et de la bonhomie de La Fontaine.”

Our Professor, with a name now thoroughly established, returned in 1706

to Paris, where he was an assiduous and efficient member of the Société

Numismatique and corresponded largely with foreign Orientalists. Three

years afterwards he was made Professor of Arabic at the Collége de

France, succeeding Pierre Dippy; and, during the next half decade, he

devoted himself to publishing his valuable studies. Then the end came.

In his last illness, an attack of asthma complicated with pectoral

mischief, he sent to Noyon for his nephew Julien Galland[212] to assist

him in ordering his MSS. and in making his will after the simplest

military fashion: he bequeathed his writings to the Bibliothèque du Roi,

his Numismatic Dictionary to the Academy and his Alcoran to the Abbé

Bignon. He died, aged sixty-nine on February 17, 1715, leaving his

second Part of The Nights unpublished.[213]

Professor Galland was a French littérateur of the good old school which

is rapidly becoming extinct. Homme vrai dans les moindres choses (as his

Éloge stated); simple in life and manners and single-hearted in his

devotion to letters, he was almost childish in worldly matters, while

notable for penetration and acumen in his studies. He would have been as

happy, one of his biographers remarks, in teaching children the elements

of education as he was in acquiring his immense erudition. Briefly,

truth and honesty, exactitude and indefatigable industry characterised

his most honourable career.

Galland informs us (Epist. Ded.) that his MS. consisted of four volumes,

only three of which are extant,[214] bringing the work down to Night

cclxxxii., or about the beginning of “Camaralzaman.” The missing

portion, if it contained like the other volumes 140 pages, would end

that tale together with the Stories of Ghánim and the Enchanted (Ebony)

Horse; and such is the disposition in the Bresl. Edit. which mostly

favours in its ordinance the text used by the first translator. But this

would hardly have filled more than two-thirds of his volumes; for the

other third he interpolated, or is supposed to have interpolated, the

ten[215] following tales.

1. Histoire du prince Zeyn Al-asnam et du Roi des Génies.[216]

2. Histoire de Codadad et de ses frères.

3. Histoire de la Lampe merveilleuse (Aladdin).

4. Histoire de l’aveugle Baba Abdalla.

5. Histoire de Sidi Nouman.

6. Histoire de Cogia Hassan Alhabbal.

7. Histoire d’Ali Baba, et de Quarante Voleurs exterminés par une

Esclave.

8. Histoire d’Ali Cogia, marchand de Bagdad.

9. Histoire du prince Ahmed et de la fée Peri-Banou.

10. Histoire de deux Sœurs jalouses de leur Cadette.[217]

The Book of the Thousand Nights and a Night — Volume 10 (of 10)(#58360) · 第 8 / 57 段