The unfortunate sufferer on this occasion had been accused of stealing and putting to death a Mahomedan child (a ceremony in their religion, which they have been known to practice both in Turkey and Persia), and which created such an extraordinary tumult among the mob of Constantinople, that, in order to appease it, he had been decapitated. His execution had taken place purposely before the door of a wealthy Greek, and the body was ordered to remain there three days before it was permitted to be carried away for interment. The expectation that the Greek would be induced to pay down a handsome sum, in order that this nuisance might be removed from his door, and save him from the ill luck which such an object is generally supposed to bring, made the officer entrusted with the execution prefer this spot to every other. But, careless of the consequences, the Greek shut up the windows of his house, determined to deprive his oppressors of their expected perquisite; and so the dead Jew remained exposed his full time. Few excepting those of the true faith ventured to approach the spot, fearful that the Mohamedan authorities would, in their wanton propensities to heap insults upon the Giaours, oblige some one of them to carry the carcass to the place of burial; and thus the horrid and disgusting object was left abandoned to itself, and this had given an opportunity to the kabobchi, Yanaki, to dispose of the head in the manner above related, unseen and unmolested. But when, as the day advanced, and as the stir of the streets became more active, this additional head was discovered, the crowd, which gathered about it, became immense. It was immediately rumoured that a miracle had been performed; for a dead Jew was to be seen with two heads. The extraordinary intelligence flew from mouth to mouth, until the whole city was in an uproar, and all were running to see the miracle. The Sanhedrim immediately pronounced that something extraordinary was about to happen to their persecuted race. Rabbins were to be seen running to and fro, and their whole community was now poured around the dead body, in expectation that he would perhaps arise, put on his heads, and deliver them from the grip of their oppressors.

But as ill luck would have it for them, a Janissary, who had mixed in the crowd and had taken a close survey of the supernumerary head, exclaimed in a mixture of doubt and amazement, "Allah, Allah, il Allah! these are no infidel's heads. One is the head of our lord and master, the Aga of the Janissaries." Upon which, seeing more of his companions, he called them to him and making known his discovery, they became violent with rage, and set off to communicate the intelligence to their Orta.

The news spread like wildfire throughout the whole of the corps of the Janissaries, and a most alarming tumult was immediately excited: for it seems that it was unknown in the capital that their chief, to whom they were devotedly attached, and one of their own selection, had been put to death.

"What!" said they, "is it not enough to deal thus treacherously with us, and deprive us of a chief to whom we are attached; but we must be treated with the greatest contempt that it is possible for men to receive? What! the head of our most noble Aga of the Janissaries to be placed upon the most ignoble part of a Jew! what are we come to? We alone are not insulted; the whole of Islam is insulted, degraded, debased! No: this is unheard-of insolence, a stain never to be wiped off, without the extermination of the whole race! And what dog has done this deed? How did the head get there? Is it that dog of a Vizier's work, or has the Reis Effendi and those traitors of Frank ambassadors been at work? Wallah, Billah, Tallah! by the holy Caaba, by the beard of Osman, and by the sword of Omar, we will be revenged!"

We must leave the tumult to rage for a short time; we must request the reader to imagine a scene, in which the Jews are flying in all directions, hiding themselves with great precaution against enraged Turks, who with expressions like those just mentioned in their mouths, are to be seen walking about in groups, armed to their teeth with pistols and scimitars, and vowing vengeance upon everything which came in their way. He must imagine a city of narrow streets and low houses, thronged with a numerous population, dresses the most various in shape and the most lively in colours, all anxious, all talking, all agog as if something extraordinary was to happen; in the midst of whom I will leave him, to take a look into the interior of the sultan's seraglio, and to inquire in what his eminency himself had been engaged since we last noticed him.

On the very same night of the tailor's attendance, the sultan had given a secret order for taking off the head of the Aga of the Janissaries (the fomenter of all the disturbances which had lately taken place among his corps, and consequently their idol); and so anxious was he about its execution, that he had ordered it to be brought to him the moment it was off. The man entrusted with the execution, upon entering the room where he had been directed to bring the head, seeing some one seated, naturally took him for the sultan, and, without daring to look up, immediately placed the burden at his feet, with the prostrations which we have ready described as having been performed before the tailor. The sultan, who not a minute before had taken away the bundle containing the dervish's dress, had done so in the intention of deceiving his slave Mansouri himself; so anxious was he of being unknown in his new disguise even to him; and intended to have substituted another in its stead; but not calculating either upon the reception of the head, or upon Mansouri's immediate return to the tailor, he was himself completely puzzled how to act when he found the tailor was gone, led off by his slave. To have sent after them would have disconcerted his schemes, and therefore he felt himself obliged to wait Mansouri's return, before he could get an explanation of what had happened; for he knew that they would not have gone away without the dress, and that dress he had then in his possession. In the meanwhile, anxious and impatient to know what had become of the expected head, he sent for the officer who was entrusted with the execution; and the astonishment of both may be imagined when an explanation took place.

"By my beard!" exclaimed the sultan, having thought awhile within himself; "by my beard, the tailor must have got the head!"

His impatience for Mansouri's return then became extreme. In vain he fretted, fumed, and cried "Allah! Allah!" It did not make the slave retum a minute the sooner, who, good man, would have gone quietly to rest had he not been called upon to appear before the sultan.

As soon as he was within hearing, he called out, "Ahi! Mansouri, run immediately to the tailor—he has got the head of the Aga of the Janissaries instead of the dervish's dress—run, fetch it without loss of time, or something unfortunate will happen!" He then explained how this untoward event had occurred. Mansouri now, in his turn, felt himself greatly embarrassed; for he only knew the road to the tailor's stall, but was totally unacquainted with his dwelling-house. However, rather than excite his master's anxiety in a higher degree, he set off in quest of the tailor, and went straight to his stall, in the hopes of hearing from the neighbours where his house was. It was too early in the day for the opening of the Bezesten, and except a coffee-house that had just prepared for the reception of customers, where he applied and could gain no intelligence, he found himself completely at a standstill. By the greatest good luck, he recollected Babadul had told him that he was the muezzin to the little mosque in the fish-market, and thither he immediately bent his steps. The azan, or morning invitation to prayers, was now chanting forth from all the minarets, and he expected that he might catch the purloiner of his head in the very act of inviting the faithful to prayers.

As he approached the spot, he heard an old broken and tremulous voice, which he imagined might be Babadul's, breaking the stillness of the morning by all the energy of its lungs; and he was not mistaken, for as he stood under the minaret, he perceived the old man walking round the gallery which encircles it, with his hand applied to the back of his ear, and with his mouth wide open, pouring out his whole throat in the execution of his office. As soon as the tailor saw Mansouri making signs to him, the profession of faith stuck in his throat; and between the fright of being brought to account for the head, and the words which he had to pronounce, it is said that he made so strange a jumble, that some of the stricter Mussulmans, his neighbours, who were paying attention to the call, professed themselves quite scandalized at his performance. He descended with all haste, and locking the door after him which leads up the winding staircase, he met Mansouri in the street. He did not wait to be questioned respecting the fate of the horrid object, but at once attacked the slave concerning the trick, as he called it, which had been put upon him.

"Are you a man," said he, "to treat a poor Emir like me in the manner you have done, as if my house was a charnel-house? I suppose you will ask me the price of blood next!"

"Friend," said Mansouri, "what are you talking about? do not you see that it has been a mistake?"

"A mistake, indeed!" cried the tailor, "a mistake done on purpose to bring a poor man into trouble. One man laughs at my stupid beard, and makes me believe that I am to make a suit of clothes for him—another takes away the pattern—and a third substitutes a dead man's head for it. Allah! Allah! I have got into the hands of a pretty nest of rogues, a set of ill-begotten knaves!"

Upon which Mansouri placed his hand upon the tailor's mouth, and said, "Say no more, say no more; you are getting deeper into the dirt. Do you know whom you are abusing."

"I know not, nor care not," answered Babadul; "all I know is that whoever gives me a dead man's head for a suit of clothes can only be an infidel dog."

"Do you call God's viceregent upon earth, you old demi-stitching, demi-praying fool, an infidel dog?" exclaimed Mansouri in a rage, which entirely made him forget the precaution he had hitherto maintained concerning his employer. "Are your vile lips to defile the name of him who is the Alem penah, the refuge of the world? What dirt are you eating, what ashes are you heaping on your head? Come, no more words; tell me where the dead man's head is, or I will take yours of in his stead."

Upon hearing this, the tailor stood with his mouth wide open, as if the doors of his understanding had just been unlocked.

"Aman, aman, Mercy, mercy, O Aga!" cried Babadul to Mansouri, "I was ignorant of what I was saying. Who would have thought it? Ass, fool, dolt, that I am, not to have known better. Bismillah! in the name or the Prophet, pray come to my house; your steps will be fortunate, and your slave's head will touch the stars."

"I am in a hurry, a great hurry," said Mansouri. "Where is the head, the head of the Aga of the Janissaries?"

When the tailor heard whose head it had been, and recollected what he and his wife had done with it, his knees knocked under him with fear, and he began to exude from every pore.

"Where is it, indeed?" said he. "Oh! what has come upon us! Oh! what cursed kismet (fate) is this?"

"Where is it?" exclaimed the slave, again and again, "where is it? speak quick!"

The poor tailor was completely puzzled what to say, and kept floundering from one answer to another until he was quite entangled as in a net.

"Have you burnt it?"

"No."

"Have you thrown it away?"

"No."

"Then in the name of the Prophet what have you done with it? Have you ate it."

"No."

"Is it lying in your house?"

"No."

"Is it hiding at any other person's house?"

"No."

Then at last quite out of patience, the slave Mansouri took Babadul by his beard, and shaking his head for him, exclaimed with a roar, "Then tell me, you old dotard! what is it doing?"

"It is baking," answered the tailor, half choked: "I have said it."

"Baking! did you say?" exclaimed the slave, in the greatest amazement; "what did you bake it for? Are you going to eat it?"

"True, I said: what would you have more?" answered Babadul, "it is now baking." And then he gave a full account of what he and his wife had done in the sad dilemma in which they had been placed.

"Show me the way to the baker's," said Mansouri; "at least, we will get it in its singed state, if we can get it in no other. Whoever thought of baking the head of the Aga of the Janissaries? Allah il allah!"

They then proceeded to the baker Hassan's, who was now about taking his bread from his oven. As soon as he became acquainted with their errand, he did not hesitate in telling all the circumstances attending the transmission of the head from the pipkin to the barber's bracket; happy to have had an opportunity of exculpating himself of what might possibly have been brought up against him as a crime.

The three (Mansouri, the tailor, and the baker) then proceeded to the barber's, and inquired from him what he had done with the head of his earliest customer.

Kior Ali, after some hesitation, made great assurances that he looked upon this horrid object as a donation from Eblis himself, and consequently that he had thought himself justified in transferring it over to the Giaour Yanaki, who, he made no doubt, had already made his brother-infidels partake of it in the shape of kabobs. Full of wonder and amazement, invoking the Prophet at each step, and uncertain as to the result of such unheard-of adventures, they then added the barber to their party, and proceeded to Yanaki's cook-shop.

The Greek, confounded at seeing so many of the true believers enter his house, had a sort of feeling that their business was not of roast meat, but that they were in search of meat of a less savoury nature. As soon as the question had been put to him concerning the head, he stoutly denied having seen it, or knowing anything at all concerning it.

The barber showed the spot where he had placed it, and swore it upon the Koran.

Mansouri had undertaken the investigation of the point in question, when they discovered symptoms of the extraordinary agitation that prevailed in the city in consequence of the discovery which had been made of the double-headed Jew, and of the subsequent discovery that had produced such great sensation among the whole corps of Janissaries.

Mansouri, followed by the tailor, the baker, and the barber, then proceeded to the spot where the dead Israelite was prostrate; and there, to their astonishment, they each recognized their morning visitor—the head so long sought after.

Yanaki, the Greek, in the meanwhile, conscious of what was likely to befall him, without loss of time gathered what money he had ready at hand, and fled the city.

"Where is the Greek?" said Mansouri, turning round to look for him in the supposition that he had joined his party; "we must all go before the sultan."

"I dare say he is run off," said the barber. "I am not so blind but I can see that he it is who gifted the Jew with his additional head."

Mansouri now would have carried off the head; but surrounded as it was by a band of enraged and armed soldiers, who vowed vengeance upon him who had deprived them of their chief, he thought it most prudent to withdraw. Leading with him his three witnesses, he at once proceeded to the presence of his master.

When Mansouri had informed the sultan of all that had happened, where he had found the head of the Aga of the Janissaries, how it had got there, and of the tumult it had raised, the reader may better imagine than I can describe the state of the monarch's mind. To tell the story with all its particulars he felt would be derogatory to his dignity, for it was sure to cover him with ridicule; but at the same time to let the matter rest as it now stood was impossible, because the tumult would increase until there would be no means of quelling it, and the affair might terminate by depriving him of his crown, together with his life.

He remained in a state of indecision for some time, twisting up the ends of his mustachios, and muttering Allah! Allah! in low ejaculations, until at length he ordered the prime vizier and the mufti to his presence.

Alarmed by the abruptness of the summons, these two great dignitaries arrived at the imperial gate in no enviable state of mind; but when the sultan had informed them of the tumult then raging in the capital, they resumed their usual tranquillity.

After some deliberation it was resolved, that the tailor, the baker, the barber, and the kabobchi should appear before the tribunal of the mufti, accused of having entered into a conspiracy against the Aga of the Janissaries, and stealing his head, for the purposes of baking, shaving, and roasting it, and that they should be condemned to pay the price of his blood; but as the kabobchi had been the immediate cause of the tumult by treating the head with such gross and unheard-of insult, and as he was a Greek and an infidel, it was further resolved that the Mufti should issue a fetwah, authorizing his head to be cut off: and placed on the same odious spot where he had exposed that of the Aga of the Janissaries.

It was then agreed between the sultan and his grand vizier, that in order to appease the Janissaries a new Aga should be appointed who was agreeable to them, and that the deceased should be buried with becoming distinction. All this (except killing the Greek, who had fled) was done, and tranquillity again restored to the city. But it must further be added to the honour of the sultan, that he not only paid every expense which the tailor, the baker, and the barber were condemned to incur, but also gave them each a handsome reward for the difficulties into which they had so unfortunately been thrown.

I have much curtailed the story, particularly where Mansouri proceeds to relate to the sultan the fate of the head, because, had I given it with all the details the dervish did, it would have been over long. Indeed I have confined myself as much as possible to the outline; for to have swelled the narrative with the innumerable digressions of my companion a whole volume would not have contained it. The art of a story-teller (and it is that which marks a man of genius) is to make his tale interminable, and still to interest his audience. So the dervish assured me; and added, that with the materials of the one which I have attempted to repeat, he would bind himself to keep talking for a whole moon, and still have something to say.



CHAPTER XLVI

He becomes a saint, and associates with the most celebrated divine in Persia.

At length Mirza Abdul Cossim himself, having heard much of my sanctity, took an opportunity, when visiting the shrine of the saint, to send for me. This was an event which I contemplated with apprehension; for how could I possibly conceal my ignorance from one who would certainly put my pretensions of knowledge to the test?—an ignorance so profound, that I could scarcely give an account of what were the first principles of the Mohamedan faith.

I, therefore, began to take myself to task upon what I did know. 'Let me see,' said I, 'I know, lst, that all those who do not believe in Mahomed, and in Ali his lieutenant, are infidels and heretics, and are worthy of death. 2ndly, I also know that all men will go to Jehanum (hell), excepting the true believers; and I further believe that it is right to curse Omar.—I am certain that all the Turks will go to Jehanum,—that all Christians and Jews are nejis (unclean), and will go to Jehanum,—that it is not lawful to drink wine or eat pork,—that it is necessary to say prayers five times a day, and to make the ablution before each prayer, causing the water to run from the elbow to the fingers, not contrariwise, like the heretical Turks.'

I was proceeding to sum up the stock of my religious knowledge, when the dervish came into the room; and I made no scruple of relating to him my distress and its cause.

'Have you lived so long in the world,' said be, 'and not yet discovered that nothing is to be accomplished without impudence? The stories which Dervish Sefer, his companion, and I related to you at Meshed, have they made so little impression upon you?'

'The effect of those stories upon my mind,' said I, 'produced such a bastinado upon the soles of my feet, by way of a moral, that I request you to be well assured I shall neither forget you nor them as long as I live: the felek is a great help to the memory. And now, according to your own account, instead of the bastinado, I am likely to get stoned, should I be found wanting; a ceremony which, if it be the same to you, I had rather dispense with. Say then, O dervish, what shall I do?'

'You are not that Hajji Baba which I always took you to be,' said the dervish, 'if you have not the ingenuity to deceive the mushtehed. Keep to your silence, and your sighs, and your shrugs, and your downcast looks, and who is there that will discover you to be an ass? No, even I could not.'

'Well,' said I, 'be it so: Allah kerim! God is great!—but it is being in very ill luck to be invited to an entertainment to eat one's own filth.'

Upon which I set forward with my most mortified and downcast looks to visit the mushtehed, and, thanks to my misfortunes, I truly believe that no man in the whole city could boast of so doleful a cast of countenance as I could. However, as I slowly paced the ground, I recollected one of the tales recited by our great moralist Saadi, in his chapter upon the Morals of Dervishes, which applied so perfectly to my own case, that I own it cheered me greatly, and gave me a degree of courage to encounter the scrutiny of the mushtehed which otherwise I never could have acquired. It is as follows:—

'A devout personage was once asked, what he thought of the character of a certain holy man, of whom others had spoken with slight and disrespect? He answered, "In his exterior I can perceive no fault, and of what is concealed within him I am ignorant. He who weareth an exterior of religion, doubt not his goodness and piety, if you are ignorant of the recesses of his heart. What hath the mohtesib to do with the inside of the house?"'

I then recollected some sentences from the same chapter, which would apply admirably in case I were called upon to show my learning and humility at the same time; for I promised to say to the holy man, should he offer me an opportunity, 'Do unto me that which is worthy of thee, treat me not according to my desert. Whether you slay or whether you pardon, my head and face are on thy threshold. It is not for a servant to direct; whatsoever thou commandest I shall perform.'

The mushtehed had just finished his midday prayer, and was completing the last act of it by turning his head first over the right shoulder then over the left, when I entered the open apartment where he was seated. It was lined with his disciples, on each side and at the top, all of whom looked upon him with the reverence and respect due to a master. Here he held his lectures. A mollah, with whom I was acquainted, mentioned who I was, and forthwith I was invited to take my place on the carpet, which I did, after having with great humility kissed the hem of the holy man's cloak. 'You are welcome,' said he; 'we have heard a great deal concerning you, Hajji, and inshallah, your steps will be fortunate. Sit up higher!'

I made all sorts of remonstrances against sitting higher up in the room (for I had taken the lowest place); and when I had crept up to the spot to which he had pointed with his finger, I carefully nestled my feet closely under me, covering both them and my hands with my coat.

'We have heard,' said he, 'that you are a chosen slave of the Most High; one whose words and whose acts are the same; not wearing a beard of two colours, like those who are Mussulmans in outward appearance, but who are kafirs in their hearts.'

'May your propitious condescension never be less!' said I: 'your servant is the most abject of the least of those who rub their forehead on the threshold of the gate of Almighty splendour.'

Here ensued a pause and dead silence, when we each appeared absorbed in deep meditation. The mushtehed then breaking the silence, said to me:—

'Is it true, O Hajji! that your talleh, your destiny, has turned its face upon you, and that you have come hither to seek refuge? We and the world have long bid adieu to each other; so my questions are not to satisfy curiosity, but to inform me whether I can be of use to you. Our holy Prophet (upon whom be blessings and peace!) sayeth, "Let our faithful followers help each other: those who see, let them lead the blind; those who prosper, let them help those who are in adversity."'

Upon this I took courage, spoke my sentences from Saadi, as already recited, and told my tale in such a modified manner, that my auditors, I verily believe, began to look upon me as very little short of a martyr.

'If it is so,' said the mushtehed, 'perhaps the day is not far off, when I may be the instrument, in the hands of God, to see justice done you. The Shah is to visit the tomb before this month is expired, and as he looks upon me with the eyes of approbation, be assured that I will not be deficient in endeavouring to procure your release.'

'What can such a sinner as I say to one of your high sanctity? I will pray for you; the dust of your path shall be collyrium for my eyes. Whatever you will do for me will be the effect of your goodness.'

'It is plain that you are one of us,' said the mushtehed, apparently well satisfied at the almost divine honours which I paid him. 'True Mussulmans always recognize each other in the same manner, as I have heard to be the case among a sect of the Franks, called Faramoosh [81] who by a word, a look, or a touch, will discover one another even among thousands.'

'Allah ho akbar! God is great'; and 'La Allah il Allah! there is but one God' was echoed by the company, in admiration of the mushtehed's knowledge; and then he continued to address me thus:—

'There is an ajem with you, who calls himself a dervish. Is he an acquaintance of yours? He says that he and you are hem dum, of one breath. Is it so?'

'Che arz bekunum? what supplication can I make?' said I, not knowing precisely whether to acknowledge my friend or not.

'Yes, he is a fakir, a poor man, to whom I have given a path near me. He has done me some little service, and I am mindful of him.'

'You must be mindful of yourself,' said an old mollah, who sat next to me. 'Whatever is thief, whatever is knave, you will be sure to find it among these ajems.'

'Yes,' said the mushtehed, as he rested both his hands upon his girdle, whilst his disciples (who knew this to be his favourite attitude when about to make a speech) settled their faces into looks of attention—'yes, these, and all who call themselves dervishes, be they the followers of Nur Ali Shahi, be they Zahabias, be they Nakshbendies, or be they of that accursed race of Uweisies; all are kafirs or heretics—all are worthy of death. The one promulgate, that the fastings of the Ramazan, our ablutions, the forms and number of our daily prayers, are all unnecessary to salvation; and that the heart is the test of piety, and not the ceremonies of the body. The other acknowledge the Koran, 'tis true; but they reject everything else: the sayings of the Prophet, opinions of saints, etc. are odious to them; and they show their religious zeal by shouting out the blessed name of Allah, until they foam at the mouth, like so many roaring lions; and this they are pleased to call religion. Another set pretend to superior piety, by disfiguring the outward man, making vows, and performing acts of penance, that partake more of the tricks of mountebanks than of the servants of the Almighty. The fourth, the most heretical of all, would make us believe that they live in eternal communion with supernatural powers; and whilst they put on a patched and threadbare garment, affect to despise the goods of this world, and keep themselves warm by metaphysical meditations, which neither they nor any one else understand. No distinction of clean or unclean (may they enjoy the eternal grills!) stands in their way; lawful and unlawful is all one to them; they eat and drink whatever they choose, and even the Giaours, the infidels, are undefiled in their sight. And these call themselves Sufies; these are your wise men; these are your lights of the world! Curses on their beard!' To which all the company answered 'ameen,' or amen. Curses on their fathers and mothers! Curses on their children! Curses on their relations! Curses on Sheikh Attar! Curses on Jelaledin Rumi!'[82] After each curse the whole assembly echoed 'Ameen!'

When he had concluded, all the company, whilst they expressed their admiration at his doctrine, looked at me to see if I was not struck with amazement. I was not backward in making the necessary exclamations, and acted my part so true to the life, that the impression in my favour was universal.

The mushtehed, warmed by his own words, continued to harangue against the Sufies with such vehemence, that I believe had there been one at hand, they would have risen in a body and put him to death. I hugged myself in the success which had accompanied my attempt to appear a good Mussulman, and now began to think that I was one in right earnest.

'If what I do,' said I, 'constitutes a religious man, and is to acquire me the world's consideration, nothing is more easy. Why then should I toil through life, a slave to some tyrant, exposed to every vicissitude, uncertain of my existence beyond the present moment, and a prey to a thousand and one evils?'

I left the mushtehed, and returned to my cell, determined to persevere in my pious dispositions. When I met my companion again, I told him all that had happened, and everything that had been said about him and dervishes in general; and advised him, considering the temper in which I had left the assembly, to make the best of his way out of a place in which every man's mind and hand were turned against him. 'If they catch you, they stone you, friend!' said I; 'upon that make your mind easy.'

'May the stones alight on their own heads!' exclaimed the dervish: 'a set of blood-thirsty heathens! What sort of religion can theirs be which makes them seek the life of an inoffensive man? I come here, having no one thing to do with either Suni or Shiah, Sufi or Mohamedan: on the contrary, out of compliment to them, I go through all the mummery of five washings and five prayings per day, and still that will not satisfy them; however, I will be even with them. I will go; I will leave their vile hypocritical town; and neither will I wash nor pray until necessity obliges me to pass through it again.'

I must own that I was not sorry when I heard the dervish make this resolution. I saw him with pleasure gird on his broad leathern belt, from which was suspended great bunches of beads, and stick his long spoon in it. I helped to fasten his deer-skin to his back; and when he had taken up the iron weapon, which he carried on his shoulder, in one hand, whilst his other bore his calabash suspended with three chains, we bade each other adieu with great apparent cordiality.

Leaving me to the full possession of my cell, he sallied forth with all the lightness and gaiety of heart of one who had the world at his command, instead of the world before him, with nothing but his two feet and his ingenuity to carry him through it.

'May the mercy of Allah be poured over you,' said I, as I saw the last of him, 'you merry rogue! and mayest thou never want a pair of shoes to your feet, nor a pleasant story to your tongue, with both of which thou mayest go through life with more pleasure both to thyself and others than the rich man, who is the slave of a thousand wants, a dependant upon his dependants for the commonest necessaries of his existence.'



CHAPTER XLVII

Hajji Baba is robbed by his friend, and left utterly destitute; but is released from his confinement.

My mind now dwelt upon the promise which the mushtehed had made of procuring my pardon and release from the Shah, when he came to visit the sanctuary at Kom; and it occurred to me, that to secure the favour of so powerful an advocate, I ought to make him a present, without which nothing is ever accomplished in Persia. But of what it was to be composed was the next consideration. The money left in my purse was all that I had to subsist upon until I should acquire a new livelihood; and, little as it was, I had kept it safely buried in an unfrequented corner near my cell.

I fixed upon a praying-carpet, as the best present for one who is always upon his knees, and had laid my plan for getting some brought to me from the bazaar to look at.

'Every time the good man prays,' said I, 'he will think of me; and as one is apt to make good resolutions in such moments, perhaps he will be put in mind of his promises to endeavour to release me.'

I forthwith resorted to my secret corner for my purse, in the determination of sacrificing one of my remaining tomauns to this purpose. But here let me stop, and let me request the reader to recollect himself, and reflect upon his feelings after the most severe disappointment which it may have been his lot to sustain, and let me tell him, that it was nothing to my grief, to my rage, to my exasperation, when I found my purse was gone.

My soul came into my mouth; and without a moment's hesitation I exclaimed, 'O thou bankrupt dog! thou unsainted dervish! You have brought me safe into harbour, 'tis true; but you have left me without an anchor. May your life be a bitter one, and may your daily bread be the bread of grief! And so, after all, Hajji Baba has become a beggar!'

I then took to making the most sorrowful moanings and lamentations; for the fear of starvation now stared me in the face notwithstanding the charity of the people of Kom; and as despair is a malady which increases the more the mind dwells upon its misfortune, I seemed to take delight in reverting to all the horrors which I had lately witnessed in the death of Zeenab; then I dwelt upon my confinement, then upon my loss, and at length wound myself up to look upon my situation as so desperate, that if I had had poison by me, I should certainly have swallowed it.

At this moment passed by my cell the old mollah, who, during my visit to the mushtehed, had warned me against putting too much confidence in the dervish. I told him of my misfortune, and raised such doleful wailings, that his heart was touched.

'You spoke but too well, O mollah!' said I, 'when you warned me against the dervish. My money is gone, and I am left behind. I am a stranger; and he who called himself my friend has proved my bitterest enemy! Curses on such a friend! Oh! whither shall I turn for assistance?'

'Do not grieve, my son,' said the mollah; 'we know that there is a God, and if it be his will to try you with misfortune, why do you repine? Your money is gone,—gone it is, and gone let it be; but your skin is left,—and what do you want more? A skin is no bad thing, after all!'

'What words are these?' said I: 'I know that a skin is no bad thing; but will it get back my money from the dervish?'

I then requested the old man to state my misfortune to the mushtehed, and, moreover, my impossibility of showing him that respect by a present, which was due to him, and which it had been my intention to make.

He left me with promises of setting my case in its proper light before the holy man; and, to my great joy, on the very same day the news of the approaching arrival of the Shah was brought to Kom by the chief of the tent-pitchers, who came to make the necessary preparations for his accommodation.

The large open saloon in the sanctuary in which the king prays was spread with fine carpets, the court was swept and watered, the fountain in the centre of the reservoir was made to play, and the avenues to the tomb were put into order. A deputation, consisting of all the priests, was collected, to go before him, and meet him on his entry; and nothing of ceremony was omitted which was due to the honour and dignity of the Shadow of the Almighty upon earth.

I now became exceedingly anxious about my future fate; for it was long since I had heard from Tehran, and I was ignorant of the measure of the Shah's resentment against me. Looking upon the dark side of things, my imagination led me to think that nothing short of my head would satisfy him; but then, cheering myself with a more pleasing prospect, I endeavoured to believe that I was too insignificant a personage that my death should be of any consequence, and built all my hopes upon the intercession of the mushtehed.

The chief tent-pitcher had formerly been my friend, and among his assistants I recognized many of my acquaintance. I soon made myself known to them; and they did not, for a wonder, draw back from recognizing me, although one of our greatest sages hath said, 'that a man in adversity is shunned like a piece of base money, which nobody will take; and which, if perchance it has been received, is passed off to another as soon as possible.'

The newcomers gave me all the intelligence of what had happened at court since I had left it; and although I professed to have renounced the world, and to have become a recluse, a sitter in a corner, as it is called, yet still I found that I had an ear for what was passing in it. They informed me that the chief executioner had returned from his campaign against the Russians, and had brought the Shah a present of two Georgian slaves, a male and a female, besides other rarities, in order the better to persuade him of his great feats and generalship. The present had been accepted, and his face was to be whitened by a dress of honour, provided he made the tobeh, oath of penance, restraining himself from the use of wine for the future. I also learnt, notwithstanding it was known how deeply I was implicated in Zeenab's guilt, that my former master, the hakim, had still been obliged to make a large present to the Shah, besides having had half his beard pulled out by the roots, for the loss which his majesty had incurred by her death, and for his disappointment at not finding her ready to dance and sing before him on his return from Sultanieh. The king's wrath for the loss of the Curdish slave had in great measure subsided, owing to the chief executioner's gift of the Georgian one, who was described as being the finest person of the sort who had been exhibited at the slave-market since the days of the celebrated Taous, or Peacock; and was, in short, the pearl of the shell of beauty, the marrow of the spine of perfection. She had a face like the full moon, eyes of the circumference of the chief tent-pitcher's forefinger and thumb, a waist that he could span, and a form tall and majestic as the full-grown cypress. And they moreover assured me, that the Shah's anger against me would very easily cede to a present of a few tomauns.

Here again my anathemas against the dervish broke forth; 'and but for him,' said I, 'I might have appeared not empty-handed.' However, I was delighted to hear that my case was not so desperate as I had imagined; and, seated on the carpet of hope, smoking the pipe of expectation, I determined to await my fate with that comfortable feeling of predestination which has been so wisely dispensed by the holy Prophet for the peace and quiet of all true believers.

The King of Kings arrived the next day, and alighted at his tents, which were pitched without the town. I will not waste the reader's time in describing all the ceremonies of his reception, which, by his desire, were curtailed as much as possible, inasmuch as his object in visiting the tomb of Fatimeh was not to reap worldly distinctions, but to humble himself before God and men, in the hope of obtaining better and higher reward.

His policy has always been to keep in good odour with the priesthood of his country; for he knew that their influence, which is considerable over the minds of the people, was the only bar between him and unlimited power. He therefore courted Mirza Abdul Cossim, the mushtehed of Kom, by paying him a visit on foot, and by permitting him to be seated before him, an honour seldom conferred on one of the laity. He also went about the town on foot, during the whole time of his stay there, giving largely to the poor, and particularly consecrating rich and valuable gifts at the shrine of the saint. The king himself, and all those who composed his train, thought it proper to suit their looks to the fashion of the place; and I was delighted to find that I was not singular in my woe-smitten face and my mortified gait. I recollected to have heard, when I was about the court, that the Shah, in point of fact, was a Sufi at heart, although very rigid in the outward practices of religion; and it was refreshing to me to perceive, among the great officers in his train, one of the secretaries of state, a notorious sinner of that persuasion, who was now obliged to fold up his principles in the napkin of oblivion, and clothe himself in the garments of the true faith.

On the morning of the Shah's visit to the tomb for the purpose of saying his prayers, I was on the alert, in the hopes of being remarked by the mushtehed, who would thus be reminded of his promises to me.

About an hour before the prayer of midday, the Shah, on foot, escorted by an immense concourse of attendants, priests, and of the people, entered the precincts of the sanctuary. He was dressed in a dark suit, the sombre colours of which were adapted to the solemn looks of his face, and he held in his hand a long enamelled stick, curiously inlaid at the pommel. He had put by all ornament, wearing none of his customary jewellery, not even his dagger, which on other occasions he is never without. The only article of great value was his rosary, composed of large pearls (the produce of his fishery at Bahrein), of the most beautiful water and symmetry, and this he kept constantly in his hand.

The mushtehed walked two or three steps behind him on the left hand, respectfully answered the interrogatories which the king was pleased to make, and lent a profound attention to all his observations.

When the procession came near me (for it passed close to my cell), I seized an opportunity, when no officer was at hand, to run forward, throw myself on my knees, make the prostration with my face to the ground, and exclaim, 'Refuge in the King of Kings, the asylum of the world! In the name of the blessed Fatimeh, mercy!'

'Who is this?' exclaimed the king to the mushtehed, 'Is he one of yours?'

'He has taken the bust (the sanctuary),' answered the mirza, 'and he claims the accustomed pardon of the Shadow of the Almighty to all unfortunate refugees whenever he visits the tomb. He and we all are your sacrifice; and whatever the Shah ordains, so let it be.'

'But who and what are you?' said the Shah to me; 'why have you taken refuge here?'

'May I be our sacrifice!' said I. 'Your slave was the sub-deputy executioner to the Centre of the Universe, Hajji Baba by name; and my enemies have made me appear criminal in the eyes of the Shah, whilst I am innocent.'

'Yafteh im, we have understood,' rejoined the king, after a minute's pause. 'So you are that Hajji Baba? Mubarek, much good may it do you. Whether it was one dog or another that did the deed, whether the hakim or the sub-deputy, it comes to the same thing,—the end of it has been that the king's goods have burnt. That is plain enough, is it not, Mirza Abdul Cossim?' said he, addressing himself to the mushtehed.

'Yes, by the sacred head of the king,' answered the holy man; 'generally in all such cases between man and woman, they, and they alone, can speak to the truth.'

'But what does our holy religion say in such cases?' observed the king: 'the Shah has lost a slave—there is a price of blood for the meanest of human beings—even a Frank or a Muscovite have their price, and why should we expend our goods gratis, for the amusement of either our chief physician or our sub-deputy executioner?'

'There is a price upon each of God's creatures, and blood must not be spilt without its fine; but there is also an injunction of forgiveness and lenity towards one's fellow creatures,' said the mushtehed, 'which our holy Prophet (upon whom be eternal blessings!) has more particularly addressed to those invested with authority, and which, O king, cannot be better applied than in this instance. Let the Shah forgive this unfortunate sinner, and he will reap greater reward in Heaven than if he had killed twenty Muscovites, or impaled the father of all Europeans, or even if he had stoned a Sufi.'

'Be it so,' said the Shah; and turning to me, he said with a loud voice, 'Murakhas, you are dismissed; and recollect it is owing to the intercession of this man of God,' putting his hand at the same time upon the shoulder of the mushtehed, 'that you are free, and that you are permitted to enjoy the light of the sun. Bero! Go! open your eyes, and never again stand before our presence.'



CHAPTER XLVIII

Hajji Baba reaches Ispahan, and his paternal roof, just time enough to close the eyes of his dying father.

I did not require to be twice ordered to depart; and, without once looking behind me, I left Kom and its priests, and bent my steps towards Ispahan and my family. I had a few reals in my pocket, with which I could buy food on the road; and, as for resting-places, the country was well supplied with caravanserais, in which I could always find a corner to lay my head. Young as I was, I began to be disgusted with the world; and perhaps had I remained long enough at Kom, and in the mood in which I had reached it, I might have devoted the rest of my life to following the lectures of Mirza Abdul Cossim, and acquired worldly consideration by my taciturnity, by my austerity, and strict adherence to Mahomedan discipline. But fate had woven another destiny for me. The maidan (the race-course) of life was still open to me, and the courser of my existence had not yet exhausted half of the bounds and curvets with which he was wont to keep me in constant exercise. I felt that I deserved the misfortunes with which I had been afflicted, owing to my total neglect of my parents.

'I have been a wicked son,' said I. 'When I was a man in authority, and was puffed up with pride at my own importance, I then forgot the poor barber at Ispahan; and it is only now, when adversity spreads my path, that I recollect the authors of my being.' A saying of my school-master, which he frequently quoted with great emphasis in Arabic, came to my mind. 'An old friend,' used he to say, 'is not to be bought, even if you had the treasures of Hatem to offer for one. Remember then, O youth, that thy first, and therefore thy oldest friends are thy father and thy mother.'

'They shall still find that they have a son,' said I, feeling a great rush of tenderness flow into my heart, as I repeated the words; 'and, please God, if I reach my home, they shall no longer have to reproach me with want of proper respect.' A still soft voice, however, whispered to me that I should be too late; and I remembered the prognostics of my mind, when, filled with grief for the loss of Zeenab, I left Tehran full of virtuous intentions and resolutions.

When I could first distinguish the peak in the mountain of the Colah Cazi, which marks the situation of Ispahan, my heart bounded within me; and at every step I anxiously considered in what state I should find my family. Would my old schoolmaster be alive? Should I find our neighbour the baqal (or chandler), at whose shop I used to spend in sweetmeats all the copper money that I could purloin from my father, when I shaved for him, would he be still in existence? And my old friend the capiji, the door-keeper of the caravanserai, he whom I frightened so much at the attack of the Turcomans, is the door of his life still open, or has it been closed upon him forever?

In this manner did I muse by the wayside, until the tops of the minarets of Ispahan actually came in view; when, enraptured with the sight, and full of gratitude for having been preserved thus far in my pilgrimage, I stopped and said my prayers; and then taking up one stone, which I placed upon another as a memorial, I made the following vow: 'O Ali, if thou wilt grant to thy humblest and most abject of slaves the pleasure of reaching my home in safety, I will, on arrival, kill a sheep, and make a pilau for my friends and family.'

Traversing the outskirts of the city with a beating heart, every spot was restored to my memory, and I threaded my way through the long vaulted bazaars and intricate streets without missing a single turn, until I found myself standing opposite both my father's shop and the well-known gate of the caravanserai.

The door of the former was closed, and nothing was stirring around it that indicated business. I paused a long time before I ventured to proceed, for I looked upon this first aspect of things as portentous of evil; but recollecting myself, I remembered that it was the Sheb-i-Jumah, the Friday eve, and that probably my father, in his old age, had grown to be too scrupulous a Mussulman to work during those hours which true believers ought to keep holy.

However, the caravanserai was open, and presented the same scene to my eyes which it had done ever since I had known it. Bales of goods heaped up in lots, intermixed with mules, camels, and their drivers. Groups of men in various costumes, some seated, some in close conversation, others gazing carelessly about, and others again coming and going in haste, with faces full of care and calculation. I looked about for the friend of my boy-hood the capiji, and almost began to fear that he too had closed his door, when I perceived his well-known figure crawling quietly along with his earthen water-pipe, seeking his bit of charcoal wherewith to light it.

His head had sunk considerably between his shoulders, and reclined more upon his breast since last I had seen him; and the additional bend in his knees showed that the passing years had kept a steady reckoning with him.

'It is old Ali Mohamed,' said I, as I stepped up towards him. 'I should know that crooked nose of his from a thousand, so often have I clipped the whisker that grows under it.'

When I accosted him with the usual salutation of peace, he kept on trimming his pipe, without even looking up, so much accustomed was he to be spoken to by strangers; but when I said, 'Do not you recognize me, Ali Mohamed?' he turned up his old bloodshot eye at me, and pronounced 'Friend! a caravanserai is a picture of the world; men come in and go out of it, and no account is taken of them. How am I then to know you? Ali Mohamed is grown old, and his memory is gone by.'

'But you will surely recollect Hajji Baba—little Hajji, who used to shave your head, and trim your beard and mustachios!'

'There is but one God!' exclaimed the door-keeper in great amazement. 'Are you indeed Hajji?—Ah! my son, your place has long been empty—are you come at last? Well, then, praise be to Ali, that old Kerbelai Hassan will have his eyes closed by his only child, ere he dies.'

'How!' said I, 'tell me where is my father? Why is the shop shut? What do you say about death?'

'Yes, Hajji, the old barber has shaved his last. Lose not a moment in going to his house, and you may stand a chance to be in time to receive his blessing ere he leaves this world. Please God, I shall soon follow him, for all is vanity. I have opened and shut the gates of this caravanserai for fifty years, and find that all pleasure is departed from me. My keys retain their polish, whilst I wear out with rust.'

I did not stop to hear the end of the old man's speech, but immediately made all speed to my father's house.

As I approached the well-remembered spot, I saw two mollahs loitering near the low and narrow entrance.

'Ha!' thought I, 'ye are birds of ill-omen; wherever the work of death is going on, there ye are sure to be.'

Entering, without accosting them, I walked at once into the principal room, which I found completely filled with people, surrounding an old man, who was stretched out upon a bed spread upon the floor, and whom I recognized to be my father.

No one knew me, and, as it is a common custom for strangers who have nothing to do with the dying to walk in unasked, I was not noticed. On one side sat the doctor, and on the other an old man, who was kneeling near the bed-head, and in him I recognized my former schoolmaster. He was administering comfort to his dying friend, and his words were something to this purpose: 'Do not be downcast: please God you still have many days to spend on earth. You may still live to see your son; Hajji Baba may yet be near at hand. But yet it is a proper and a fortunate act to make your will, and to appoint your heir. If such be your wish, appoint any one here present your heir.'

'Ah,' sighed out my father, 'Hajji has abandoned us—I shall never see him more—He has become too much of a personage to think of his poor parents—He is not worthy that I should make him my heir.' These words produced an immediate effect; I could no longer restrain my desire to make myself known, and I exclaimed, 'Hajji is here!—Hajji is come to receive your blessing—I am your son—do not reject him!'

Upon which I knelt down by the bedside, and taking up the dying man's hand, I kissed it, and added loud sobs and lamentations, to demonstrate my filial affection.

The sensation which I produced upon all present was very great. I saw looks of disappointment in some, of incredulity in others, and of astonishment in all.

My father's eyes, that were almost closed, brightened up for one short interval as he endeavoured to make out my features, and clasping his trembling hands together, exclaimed, 'Il hem dillah! Praise be to God, I have seen my son, I have got an heir!' Then addressing me, he said, 'Have you done well, O my son, to leave me for so many years? Why did you not come before?'

He would have gone on, but the exertion and the agitation produced by such an event were too much for his strength, and he sunk down inanimate on his pillow.

'Stop,' said my old schoolmaster, who had at once recognized me—'stop, Hajji; say no more: let him recover himself; he has still his will to make.'

'Yes,' said a youngish man, who had eyed me with looks of great hostility, 'yes, we have also still to see whether this is Hajji Baba, or not.' I afterwards found he was son to a brother of my father's first wife, and had expected to inherit the greatest part of the property; and when I inquired who were the other members of the assembly, I found that they were all relations of that stamp, who had flocked together in the hope of getting a share of the spoil, of which I had now deprived them.

They all seemed to doubt whether I was myself, and perhaps would have unanimously set me down for an impostor, if the schoolmaster had not been present: and from his testimony there was no appeal.

However, all doubts as to my identity were immediately hushed when my mother appeared, who, having heard of my arrival, could no longer keep to the limits of her anderun, but rushed into the assembly with extended arms and a flowing veil, exclaiming, 'Where, where is he? where is my son?—Hajji, my soul, where art thou?'

As soon as I had made myself known, she threw herself upon my neck, weeping aloud, making use of every expression of tenderness which her imagination could devise, and looking at me from head to foot with an eagerness of stare, and an impetuosity of expression, that none but a mother can command.

In order to rouse my father from the lethargy into which he had apparently fallen, the doctor proposed administering a cordial, which, having prepared, he endeavoured to pour clown his throat; during the exertion of raising the body, the dying man sneezed once, which every one present knew was an omen so bad, that no man in his senses would dare venture to give the medicine until two full hours had expired: therefore, it remained in the cup.

After having waited the expiration of the two hours, the medicine was again attempted to be administered, when, to the horror of all present, and to the disappointment of those who expected that he should make his will, he was found to be stone dead.

'In the name of Allah, arise,' said the old mollah to him; 'we are now writing your will.' He endeavoured to raise my father's head, but to no purpose; life had entirely fled.

Water steeped in cotton was then squeezed into his mouth, his feet were carefully placed towards the Kebleh, and as soon as it was ascertained that no further hope was left, the priest at his bed-head began to read the Koran in a loud and sing-song emphasis. A handkerchief was then placed under his chin, fastened over his head, and his two great toes were also tied together. All the company then pronounced the Kelemeh Shehadet (the profession of faith), a ceremony which was supposed to send him out of this world a pure and well-authenticated Mussulman; and during this interval a cup of water was placed upon his head.

All these preliminaries having been duly performed, the whole company, composed of what were supposed to be his friends and relations, gathered close round the corpse, and uttered loud and doleful cries. This was a signal to the two mollahs (whom I before mentioned), who had mounted on the house-top, and they then began to chant out in a sonorous cadence portions of the Koran, or verses used on such occasions, and which are intended as a public notification of the death of a true believer.

The noise of wailing and lamentation now became general, for it soon was communicated to the women, who, collected in a separate apartment, gave vent to their grief after the most approved forms. My father, from his gentleness and obliging disposition, had been a great favourite with all ranks of people, and my mother, who herself was a professional mourner, and a principal performer at burials, being well acquainted with others of her trade, had managed to collect such a band around her on this occasion, that no khan it was said, ever had so much mourning performed for him on his death-day as my father.

As for me, whose feelings had previously been set to the pitch-pipe of misfortune, I became a real and genuine mourner; and the recollection of all the actions of my life, in which my total neglect of my parents made so conspicuous a figure, caused me to look upon myself in no enviable light.

I was seated quietly in a corner, adding my sincere sobs to the artificial ones of the rest of the whole company, when a priest came up to me, and said, that of course it was necessary for me to tear my clothes, as I could not prove myself to be a good son without so doing, and that if I permitted him, he would perform that operation for me without spoiling my coat. I let him do what he required, and he accordingly ripped open the seam of the breast flap, which then hung down some three or four inches. He also told me that it was the custom to keep the head uncovered, and the feet naked, at least until all the ceremonies of burial had been performed.

To this I freely consented, and had the satisfaction afterwards to learn, that I was held up as the pattern of a good mourner.

My mother's grief was outrageous: her hair was concealed, and she enveloped her head in a black shawl, making exclamations expressive of her anguish, calling upon the name of her husband.

By this time the neighhours, the passers-by, the known or unknown to the family, flocked round the house for the purpose of either reading the Koran or hearing it read, which is also esteemed a meritorious act on that occasion. Among these, many came in the character of comforters, who, by their knowledge in the forms of speech best adapted to give consolation, are looked upon as great acquisitions in the event of a mourning.

My old schoolmaster, an eminent comforter, took me in hand, and seating himself by my side, addressed me in the following words:—

'Yes, at length your father is dead. So be it. What harm is done? Is not death the end of all things? He was born, he got a son, he ran his course, and died. Who can do more? You now take his place in the world; you are the rising blade, that with millions of others promise a good harvest, whilst he is the full ripened ear of corn, that has been cut down and gathered into the granary. Ought you to repine at what is a subject for joy? Instead of shaving men's heads, he is now seated between two houris, drinking milk and eating honey. Ought you to weep at that? No; rather weep that you are not there also. But why weep at all? Consider the many motives for which, on the contrary, you have to rejoice. He might have been an unbeliever—but he was a true Mussulman. He might have been a Turk—but he was a Persian. He might have been a Suni—but he was a Shiah. He might have been an unclean Christian—he was a lawful son of Islam. He might have died accursed like a Jew—he has resigned his breath with the profession of the true faith in his mouth. All these are subjects of joy!'

After this manner did he go on; and, having expended all he had to say, left me, to join his voice to the general wailing. Those unclean men, the murdeshur, or washers of the dead, were then called in, who brought with them the bier, in which the corpse was to be carried to the grave. I was consulted, whether they should make an imareh of it, which is a sort of canopy, adorned with black flags, shawls, and other stuffs—a ceremony practised only in the burials of great personages; but I referred the decision to my friend the schoolmaster, who immediately said, that considering my worthy father to have been a sort of public character, he should certainly be for giving him such a distinction. This was accordingly done; and the corpse having been brought out by the distant relations, and laid therein, it was carried to the place of ablution, where it was delivered over to the washers, who immediately went to work. The body was first washed with clear cold water, then rubbed over with lime, salt, and camphor, placed in the winding-sheet, again consigned to the bier, and at length conveyed to the place of burial.

The many who offered themselves to carry the body was a proof how much my father must have been beloved. Even strangers feeling that it was a praiseworthy action to carry a good Mussulman to the grave, pressed forward to lend their shoulder to the burden, and by the time it had reached its last resting-place, the crowd was considerable.

I had followed at a small distance, escorted by those who called themselves friends and relations; and after a mollah had said a prayer, accompanied by the voices of all present, I was invited, as the nearest relative, to place the body in the earth, which having done, the ligatures of the winding-sheet were untied, and another prayer, called the talkhi, was pronounced. The twelve Imams, in rotation, were then invoked; and the talkhi being again read, the grave was covered in. After this, the Fatheh (the first chapter of the Koran) was repeated by all present, and the grave having been sprinkled over with water, the whole assembly dispersed, to meet again at the house of the deceased. A priest remained at the head of the grave, praying.

I was now called upon to act a part. I had become the principal personage in the tragedy, and an involuntary thought stole into my mind.

'Ah,' said I, 'the vow which I made upon first seeing the city must now be performed, whether I will or no. I must spend boldly, or I shall be esteemed an unnatural son'; therefore, when I returned to the house, I blindly ordered every thing to be done in a handsome manner.

Two rooms were prepared, one for the men, the other for the women. According to the received custom, I, as chief mourner, gave an entertainment to all those who had attended the funeral; and here my sheep and my pilau were not forgotten. I also hired three mollahs, two of whom were appointed to read the Koran in the men's apartment, and the other remained near the tomb, for the same purpose, inhabiting a small tent, which was pitched for its use. The length of the mourning, which lasts, according to the means of the family, three, five, seven days, or even a month, I fixed at five days, during which each of the relations gave an entertainment. At the end of that period, some of the elders, both men and women, went round to the mourners, and sewed up their rent garments, and on that day I was again invited to give an entertainment, when separate sheets of the Koran were distributed throughout the whole assembly, and read by each individual, until the whole of the sacred volume had been completely gone through.

After this my mother, with several of her relations and female friends, I proceeded in a body to my father's tomb, taking with them sweetmeats and baked bread for the purpose, which they distributed to the poor, having partaken thereof themselves. They then returned, weeping and bewailing.

Two or three days having elapsed, my mother's friends led her to the bath, where they took off her mourning, put her on a clean dress, and dyed her feet and hands with the khenah.

This completed the whole of the ceremonies: and, much to my delight, I was now left to myself, to regulate my father's affairs, and to settle plans for my own future conduct.



CHAPTER XLIX

He becomes heir to property which is not to be found, and his suspicions thereon.

My father having died without a will, I was, of course, proclaimed his sole heir without any opposition, and consequently, all those who had aspired to be sharers of his property, balked by my unexpected appearance, immediately withdrew to vent their disappointment in abusing me. They represented me as a wretch, devoid of all respect for my parents, as one without religion, an adventurer in the world, and the companion of luties and wandering dervishes.

As I had no intention of remaining at Ispahan, I treated their endeavours to hurt me with contempt; and consoled myself by giving them a full return of all their scurrility, by expressions which neither they nor their fathers had ever heard; expressions I had picked up from amongst the illustrious characters with whom I had passed the first years of my youth.

When we were left to ourselves, my mother and I, after having bewailed in sufficiently pathetic language, she the death of a husband, I the loss of a father, the following conversation took place:—

'Now tell me, O my mother—for there can be no secrets between us—tell me the state of Kerbelai Hassan's concerns. He loved you, and confided in you, and you must therefore be better acquainted with them than any one else.'

'What do I know of them, my son?' said she, in great haste, and seeming confusion.

I stopped her, to continue my speech. 'You know that according to the law, his heir is bound to pay his debts:—they must be ascertained. Then, the expenses of the funeral are to be defrayed; they will be considerable; and at present I am as destitute of means as on the day you gave me birth. To meet all this, money is necessary; or else both mine and my father's name will be disgraced among men, and my enemies will not fail to overcome me. He must have been reputed wealthy, or else his death-bed would never have been surrounded by that host of blood-suckers and time-servers which have been driven away by my presence. You, my mother, must tell me where he was accustomed to deposit his ready cash; who were, or who are, likely to be his debtors; and what might be his possessions, besides those which are apparent.'

'Oh, Allah!' exclaimed she, 'what words are these? Your father was a poor, good man, who had neither money nor possessions. Money, indeed! We had dry bread to eat, and that was all! Now and then, after the arrival of a great caravan, when heads to be shaved were plentiful, and his business brisk, we indulged in our dish of rice, and our skewer of kabob, but otherwise we lived like beggars. A bit of bread, a morsel of cheese, an onion, a basin of sour curds—that was our daily fare; and, under these circumstances, can you ask me for money, ready money too? There is this house, which you see and know; then his shop, with its furniture; and when I have said that, I have nearly said all. You are just arrived in time, my son, to step into your father's shoes, and take up his business; and Inshallah, please God, may your hand be fortunate! may it never cease wagging, from one year's end to the other!'

'This is very strange!' exclaimed I, in my turn. 'Fifty years, and more, hard and unceasing toil! and nothing to show for it! This is incredible! We must call in the diviners.'

'The diviners?' said my mother, in some agitation; 'of what use can they be? They are only called in when a thief is to be discovered. You will not proclaim your mother a thief, Hajji, will you? Go, make inquiries of your friend, and your father's friend, the akhon.[83] He is acquainted with the whole of the concerns, and I am sure he will repeat what I have said.'

'You do not speak amiss, mother,' said I. 'The akhon probably does know what were my father's last wishes, for he appeared to be the principal director in his dying moments; and he may tell me, if money there was left, where it is to be found.'

Accordingly I went straightway to seek the old man, whom I found seated precisely in the very same corner of the little parish mosque, surrounded by his scholars, in which some twenty years before I myself had received his instructions. As soon as he saw me he dismissed his scholars, saying, my footsteps were fortunate, and that others, as well as himself, should partake of the pleasure I was sure to dispense wherever I went.

'Ahi, akhon,' said I, 'do not laugh at my beard. My good fortune has entirely forsaken me; and even now, when I had hoped that my destiny, in depriving me of my father, had made up the loss by giving me wealth, I am likely to be disappointed, and to turn out a greater beggar than ever.'

'Allah kerim, God is merciful,' said the schoolmaster; and, lifting up his eyes to heaven, whilst he placed his hands on his knees, with their palms uppermost, he exclaimed, 'O Allah, whatever is, thou art it.' Then addressing himself to me, he said, 'Yes, my son, such is the world, and such will it ever be, as long as man shuts not up his heart from all human desires. Want nothing, seek nothing, and nothing will seek you.'

'How long have you been a Sufi' said I, 'that you talk after this manner? I can speak on that subject also, since my evil star led me to Kom, but now I am engrossed with other matters.' I then informed him of the object of my visit, and requested him to tell me what he knew of my father's concerns. Upon this question he coughed, and, making up a face of great wisdom, went through a long string of oaths and professions, and finished by repeating what I had heard from my mother; namely, that he believed my father to have died possessed of no (nagd) ready cash (for that, after all, was the immediate object of my search); and what his other property was, he reminded me that I knew as well as himself.

I remained mute for some time with disappointment, and then expressed my surprise in strong terms. My father, I was aware, was too good a Mussulman to have lent out his money upon interest, for I recollected a circumstance, when I was quite a youth, which proved it. Osman Aga, my first master, wanting to borrow a sum from him, for which he offered an enormous interest, my father put his conscience into the hands of a rigid mollah, who told him that the precepts of the Koran entirely forbade it. Whether since that time he had relaxed his principles, I could not say; but I was assured that he always set his face against the unlawful practice of taking interest, and that he died, as he had lived, a perfect model of a true believer.

I left the mosque in no very agreeable mood, and took my way to the spot where I had made my first appearance in life, namely, my father's shop, turning over in my mind as I went what steps I should take to secure a future livelihood. To remain at Ispahan was out of the question—the place and the inhabitants were odious to me; therefore, it was only left me to dispose of everything that was now my own, and to return to the capital, which, after all, I knew to be the best market for an adventurer like myself. However, I could not relinquish the thought that my father had died possessed of some ready money, and suspicions would haunt my mind, in spite of me, that foul play was going on somewhere or other. I was at a loss to whom to address myself, unknown as I was in the city, and I was thinking of making my case known to the cadi, when, approaching the gate of the caravanserai, I was accosted by the old capiji. 'Peace be unto you, Aga!' said he; 'may you live many years, and may your abundance increase! My eyes are enlightened by seeing you.'

'Are your spirits so well wound up, Ali Mohamed,' said I in return, 'that you choose to treat me thus? As for the abundance you talk of, 'tis abundance of grief, for I have none other that I know of. Och!' said I, sighing, 'my liver has become water, and my soul has withered up.'

'What news is this?' said the old man. 'Your father (peace be unto him!) is just dead—you are his heir—you are young, and, Mashallah! you are handsome—your wit is not deficient:—what do you want more?'

'I am his heir, 'tis true; but what of that? what advantage can accrue to me, when I only get an old mud-built house, with some worn-out carpets, some pots and pans and decayed furniture, and yonder shop with a brass basin and a dozen of razors? Let me spit upon such an inheritance.'

'But where is your money, your ready cash, Hajji? Your father (God be with him!) had the reputation of being as great a niggard of his money as he was liberal of his soap. Everybody knows that he amassed much, and never passed a day without adding to his store.'

'That may be true,' said I; 'but what advantage will that be to me, since I cannot find where it was deposited? My mother says that he had none—the akhon repeats the same—I am no conjuror to discover the truth. I had it in my mind to go to the cadi.'

'To the cadi?' said Ali Mohamed. 'Heaven forbid! Go not to him—you might as well knock at the gate of this caravanserai, when I am absent, as try to get justice from him, without a heavy fee. No, he sells it by the miscal, at a heavy price, and very light weight does he give after all. He does not turn over one leaf of the Koran, until his fingers have been well plated with gold, and if those who have appropriated your father's sacks are to be your opponents, do not you think that they will drain them into the cadi's lap, rather than he should pronounce in your favour?'

'What, then, is to be done?' said I. 'Perhaps the diviners might give me some help.'

'There will be no harm in that,' answered the doorkeeper. 'I have known them make great discoveries during my service in this caravanserai. Merchants have frequently lost their money, and found it again through their means. It was only in the attack of the Turcomans, when much property was stolen, that they were completely at their wits' end. Ah! that was a strange event. It brought much misery on my head; for some were wicked enough to say that I was their accomplice, and, what is more extraordinary, that you were amongst them, Hajji!—for it was on account of your name, which the dog's son made use of to induce me to open the gate, that the whole mischief was produced.'

Lucky was it for me, that old Ali Mohamed was very dull of sight, or else he would have remarked strange alterations in my features when he made these observations. However, our conference ended by his promising to send me the most expert diviner of Ispahan; 'a man,' said he, 'who would entice a piece of gold out of the earth, if buried twenty gez deep, or even if it was hid in the celebrated well of Kashan.'[84]



CHAPTER L

Showing the steps he takes to discover his property, and who the diviner, Teez Negah, was.

The next morning, soon after the first prayers, a little man came into my room, whom I soon discovered to be the diviner. He was a humpback, with an immense head, with eyes so wonderfully brilliant, and a countenance so intelligent, that I felt he could look through and through me at one glance. He wore a dervish's cap, from under which flowed a profusion of jet black hair, which, added to a thick bush of a beard, gave an imposing expression to his features. His eyes, which by a quick action of his eyelid (whether real or affected, I know not) twinkled like stars, made the monster, who was not taller than a good bludgeon, look like a little demon.

He began by questioning me very narrowly; made me relate every circumstance of my life—particularly since my return to Ispahan—inquired who were my father's greatest apparent friends and associates, and what my own suspicions led me to conclude. In short, he searched into every particular, with the same scrutiny that a doctor would in tracing and unravelling an intricate disorder.

When he had well pondered over every thing that I had unfolded, he then required to be shown the premises, which my father principally inhabited. My mother having gone that morning to the bath, I was enabled, unknown to her, to take him into her apartments, where he requested me to leave him to himself, in order that he might obtain a knowledge of the localities necessary to the discoveries which he hoped to make. He remained there a full quarter of an hour, and when he came out requested me to collect those who were in my father's intimacy, and in the habit of much frequenting the house, and that he would return, they being assembled, and begin his operations.

Without saying a word to my mother about the diviner, I requested her to invite her most intimate friends for the following morning, it being my intention to give them a breakfast; and I myself begged the attendance of the akhon, the capiji, my father's nephew by his first wife, and a brother of my mother, with others who had free entrance into the house.

They came punctually; and when they had partaken of such fare as I could place before them, they were informed of the predicament in which I stood, and that I had requested their attendance to be witnesses to the endeavours of the diviner to discover where my father was wont to keep his money, of the existence of which, somewhere or other, nobody who knew him could doubt. I looked into each man's face as I made this speech, hoping to remark some expression which might throw a light upon my suspicions, but everybody seemed ready to help my investigation, and maintained the most unequivocal innocence of countenance.

At length the dervish, Teez Negah (for that was the name of the conjuror), was introduced, accompanied by an attendant who carried something wrapped up in a handkerchief. Having ordered the women in the andenun to keep themselves veiled, because they would probably soon be visited by men, I requested the dervish to begin his operations.

He first looked at every one present with great earnestness, but more particularly fixed his basilisk eyes upon the akhon, who evidently could not stand the scrutiny, but exclaimed 'Allah il Allah!'—there is but one God—stroked down his face and beard, and blew first over one shoulder and then over the other, by way of keeping off the evil spirit. Some merriment was raised at his expense; but he did not appear to be in a humour to meet any one's jokes.

After this, the dervish called to his attendant, who from the handkerchief drew forth a brass cup, of a plain surface, but written all over with quotations from the Koran, having reference to the crime of stealing, and defrauding the orphan of his lawful property. He was a man of few words, and simply saying, 'In the name of Allah, the All-wise, and All-seeing,' he placed the cup on the floor, treating it with much reverence, both in touch and in manner.

He then said to the lookers-on, 'Inshallah, it will lead us at once to the spot where the money of the deceased Kerbelai Hassan (may God show him mercy!) is or was deposited.'

We all looked at each other, some with expressions of incredulity, others with unfeigned belief, when he bent himself towards the cup, and with little shoves and pats of his hand he impelled it forwards, exclaiming all the time, 'See, see, the road it takes. Nothing can stop it. It will go, in spite of me. Mashallah, Mashallah!'

We followed him, until he reached the door of the harem, where we knocked for admittance. After some negotiation it was opened, and there we found a crowd of women (many of whom had only loosely thrown on their veils) waiting with much impatience to witness the feats which this wonderful cup was to perform.

'Make way,' said the diviner to the women who stood in his path, as he took his direction towards a corner of the court, upon which the windows of the room opened—'Make way; nothing can stop my guide.'

A woman, whom I recognized to be my mother, stopped his progress several times, until he was obliged to admonish her, with some bitterness, to keep clear of him.

'Do not you see,' said he, 'we are on the Lord's business? Justice will be done, in spite of the wickedness of man.'

At length he reached a distant corner, where it was plain that the earth had been recently disturbed, and there he stopped.

'Bismillah, in the name of Allah,' said he, 'let all present stand around me, and mark what I do.' He dug into the ground with his dagger, clawed the soil away with his hands, and discovered a place in which were the remains of an earthen vessel, and the marks near it of there having been another.

'Here,' said he, 'here the money was, but is no more.' Then taking up his cup, he appeared to caress it, and make much of it, calling it his little uncle and his little soul.

Every one stared. All cried out, 'ajaib, wonderful'; and the little humpback was looked upon as a supernatural being.

The capiji, who was accustomed to such discoveries, was the only one who had the readiness to say, 'But where is the thief? You have shown us where the game lay, but we want you to catch it for us:—the thief and the money, or the money without the thief—that is what we want.'

'Softly, my friend,' said the dervish to the capiji, 'don't jump so soon from the crime to the criminal, We have a medicine for every disorder, although it may take some time to work.'

He then cast his eyes upon the company present, twinkling them all the while in quick flashes, and said, 'I am sure every one here will be happy to be clear of suspicion, and will agree to what I shall propose. The operation is simple, and soon over.'

'Elbetteh, certainly': 'Belli, yes': 'Een che harf est? what word is this?' was heard to issue from every mouth, and I requested the dervish to proceed.

He called again to his servant, who produced a small bag, whilst he again took the cup under his charge.

'This bag,' said the diviner, 'contains some old rice. I will put a small handful of it into each person's mouth, which they will forthwith chew. Let those who cannot break it, beware, for Eblis is near at hand.'

Upon this, placing us in a row, he filled each person's mouth with rice, and all immediately began to masticate. Being the complainant, of course I was exempt from the ordeal; and my mother, who chose to make common cause with me, also stood out of the ranks. The quick-sighted dervish would not allow of this, but made her undergo the trial with the rest, saying, 'The property we seek is not yours, but your son's. Had he been your husband, it would be another thing.' She agreed to his request, though with bad grace, and then all the jaws were set to wagging, some looking upon it as a good joke, others thinking it a hard trial to the nerves. As fast as each person had ground his mouthful, he called to the dervish, and showed the contents of his mouth.

All had now proved their innocence excepting the akhon and my mother. The former, whose face exhibited the picture of an affected cheerfulness with great nervous apprehension, kept mumbling his rice, and turning it over between his jaws, until he cried out in a querulous tone, 'Why do you give me this stuff to chew? I am old, and have no teeth:—it is impossible for me to reduce the grain'; and then he spat it out. My mother, too, complained of her want of power to break the hard rice, and did the same thing. A silence ensued, which made us all look with more attention than usual upon them, and it was only broken by a time-server of my mother, an old woman, who cried out, 'What child's play is this? Who has ever heard of a son treating his mother with this disrespect, and his old schoolmaster, too? Shame, shame!—let us go—he is probably the thief himself.'

Upon this the dervish said, 'Are we fools and asses, to be dealt with in this manner? Either there was money in that corner, or there was not—either there are thieves in the world, or there are not. This man and this woman,' pointing to the akhon and my mother, 'have not done that which all the rest have done. Perhaps they say the truth, they are old, and cannot break the hard grain. Nobody says that they stole the money—they themselves know that best,' said he, looking at them through and through; 'but the famous diviner, Hezarfun, he who was truly called the bosom friend to the Great Bear, and the confidant of the planet Saturn,—he who could tell all that a man has ever thought, thinks, or will think,—he hath said that the trial by rice, among cowards was the best of all tests of a man's honesty. Now, my friends, from all I have remarked, none of you are slayers of lions, and fear is easily produced among you. However, if you doubt my skill in this instance, I will propose a still easier trial,—one which commits nobody, which works like a charm upon the mind, and makes the thief come forward of his own accord, to ease his conscience and purse of its ill-gotten wealth, at one and the same time. I propose the Hak reezi, or the heaping up earth. Here in this corner I will make a mound, and will pray so fervently this very night, that, by the blessing of Allah, the Hajji,' pointing to me, 'Will find his money buried in it to-morrow at this hour. Whoever is curious, let them be present, and if something be not discovered, I will give him a miscal of hair from my beard.'

He then set to work, and heaped up earth in a corner, whilst the lookers on loitered about, discussing what they had just seen; some examining me and the dervish as children of the evil spirit, whilst others again began to think as much of my mother and the schoolmaster. The company then dispersed, most of them promising to return the following morning, at the appointed time, to witness the search into the heap of earth.



CHAPTER LI

Of the diviner's success in making discoveries, and of the resolution which Hajji Baba takes in consequence.

I must own that I began now to look upon the restoration of my property as hopeless. The diviner's skill had certainly discovered that money had been buried in my father's house, and he had succeeded in raising ugly suspicions in my mind against two persons whom I felt it to be a sin to suspect; but I doubted whether he could do more.

However, he appeared again on the following morning, accompanied by the capiji, and by several of those who had been present at the former scene. The akhon, however, did not appear, and my mother was also absent, upon pretext of being obliged to visit a sick friend. We proceeded in a body to the mound, and the dervish having made a holy invocation, he approached it with a sort of mysterious respect.

'Now we shall see,' said he, 'whether the Gins and the Peris have been at work this night'; and exclaiming 'Bismillah! he dug into the earth with his dagger.

Having thrown off some of the soil, a large stone appeared, and having disengaged that, to the astonishment of all, and to my extreme delight, a canvas bag well filled was discovered.

'Oh my soul! oh my heart!' exclaimed the humpback, as he seized upon the bag, 'you see that the Dervish Teez Negah is not a man to lose a hair of his beard. There, there,' said he, putting it into my hand, 'there is your property: go, and give thanks that you have fallen into my hands, and do not forget my hak sai, or my commission.'

Everybody crowded round me, whilst I broke open the wax that was affixed to the mouth of the bag, upon which I recognized the impression of my father's seal; and eagerness was marked on all their faces as I untied the twine with which it was fastened. My countenance dropped woefully when I found that it only contained silver, for I had made up my mind to see gold. Five hundred reals[85] was the sum of which I became the possessor; out of which I counted fifty, and presented them to the ingenious discoverer of them. 'There,' said I, 'may your house prosper! If I were rich I would give you more: and although this is evidently but a small part of what my father (God be with him!) must have accumulated, still again I say, may your house prosper, and many sincere thanks to you.'

The dervish was satisfied with my treatment of him, and took his leave, and I was soon after left by the rest of the company—the capiji alone remaining. 'Famous business we have made of it this morning,' said he. 'Did I not say that these diviners performed wonders?'

'Yes,' said I, 'yes, it is wonderful, for I never thought his operations would have come to anything.'

Impelled by a spirit of cupidity, now that I had seen money glistening before me, I began to complain that I had received so little, and again expressed to Ali Mohamed my wish of bringing the case before the cadi; 'for,' said I, 'if I am entitled to these five hundred reals, I am entitled to all my father left; and you will acknowledge that this must be but a very small part of his savings.'

'Friend,' said he, 'listen to the words of an old man. Keep what you have got, and be content. In going before the cadi, the first thing you will have to do will be to give of your certain, to get at that most cursed of all property, the uncertain. Be assured that after having drained you of your four hundred and fifty reals, and having got five hundred from your opponents, you will have the satisfaction to hear him tell you both to "go in peace, and do not trouble the city with your disputes." Have you not lived long enough in the world to have learnt this common saying—"Every one's teeth are blunted by acids, except the cadi's, which are by sweets"?

'The cadi who takes five cucumbers as a bribe, will admit any evidence for ten beds of melons.'

After some deliberation, I determined to take the advice of the capiji; for it was plain that if I intended to prosecute any one, it could only be my mother and the akhon; and to do that, I should raise such a host of enemies, and give rise to such unheard-of scandal, that perhaps I should only get stoned by the populace for my pains.

'I will dispose of everything I have at Ispahan,' said I to my adviser, 'and, having done that, will leave it never to return, unless under better circumstances. It shall never see me more,' exclaimed I, in a vapouring fit, 'unless I come as one having authority.'

Little did I think, when I made this vain speech, how diligently my good stars were at work to realize what it had expressed.

The capiji applauded my intention; the more so, as he took some little interest that my resolutions should be put into practice; for he had a son, a barber, whom he wished to set up in business; and what could be more desirable, in every respect, than to see him installed in the shop in which my poor father had flourished so successfully, close to his post at the caravanserai?

He made proposals that I should dispose of the shop and all its furniture to him, which I agreed to do, upon the evaluation of some well-known brother of the strap, and thus I was relieved of one of my remaining cares.

As for my father's house and furniture, notwithstanding my feelings at the recent conduct of my mother, I determined, by way of acquiring a good name (of which I was very much in want), to leave her in full possession of them, reserving to myself the temesouts, or deeds, which constituted me its lawful owner.

All being settled and agreed upon, I immediately proceeded to work. I received five hundred piastres from the capiji for my shop; for he also had been a great accumulator of his savings, and everybody allowed that money was never laid out to better advantage, since the shop was sure to enjoy a great run of business, owing to its excellent situation. I therefore became worth in all about one hundred and ten tomauns in gold, a coin into which I changed my silver, for the greater facility which it gave me of carrying it about my person. Part of this I laid out in clothes, and part in the purchase of a mule with its necessary furniture. I gave the preference to a mule, because, after mature deliberation, I had determined to abandon the character of a sahib shemshir, or a man of the sword, in which, for the most part, I had hitherto appeared in life, and adopt that of a sahib calem, or a man of the pen, for which, after my misfortunes, and the trial which I had in some measure made of it at Kom, I now felt a great predilection.

'It will not suit me, now, to be bestriding a horse,' said I to myself, 'armed, as I used to be, at all points, with sword by my side, pistols in my girdle, and a carbine at my back. I will neither deeply indent my cap, and place it on one side, as before, with my long curls dangling behind my ears, but wind a shawl round it, which will give me a new character; and, moreover, clip the curls, which will inform the world that I have renounced it and its vanities. Instead of pistols, I will stick a roll of papers in my girdle; and, in lieu of a cartouche-box, sling a Koran across my person. Besides, I will neither walk on the tips of my toes, nor twist about my body, nor screw up my waist, nor throw my shoulders forward, nor swing my hands to and fro before me, nor in short take upon myself any of the airs of a kasheng, of a beau, in which I indulged when sub-deputy to the chief executioner. No; I will, for the future, walk with my back bent, my head slouching, my eyes looking on the ground, my hands stuck either in front of my girdle, or hanging perpendicular down my sides, and my feet shall drag one after the other, without the smallest indication of a strut. Looking one's character is all in all; for if, perchance, I happen to say a foolish thing, it will be counted as wisdom, when it comes from a mortified looking face, and a head bound round with a mollah's shawl, particularly when it is accompanied with a deep sigh, and an exclamation of Allah ho Akbar! or Allah, Allah il Allah! and if, perchance, I am brought face to face with a man of real learning, and am called upon to sustain my character, I have only to look wise, shut my lips, and strictly keep my own counsel. Besides, I can read; and, with the practice that I intend to adopt, it will not be long before I shall be able to write a good hand;—that alone, by enabling me to make a copy of the Koran, will entitle me to the respect of the world.'