Chapter II: The Tribe

The next day Nadir returned to seek the sage, and thus addressed him:--"Father, man is not like the flower, fixed upon a stem, he can of himself advance towards his destiny; ought he then, like the Rose, to wait until the traveller demands his perfume? Tell me, oh! father, what is the destiny which God has assigned to man; what is the happiness to which it is the will of Heaven that he should aspire?"

"My son," replied the sage, "the virtue as well as the happiness of the plant consists in patience. There, in the retreat in which God has placed it, let it await his will, and if it die without having been made use of, if its salutary properties return with it into the earth, still let it not murmur; for God has seen it, and the Most High rejoices in his own works.

"The animal is destined for action, but in the interest, and under the direction of man. Obedience is his duty, it is the merit which will be accounted to him, the blessing of which he may avail himself. The horse whose submissive ardour obeys with joy the signal of his master, feels neither the whip nor the spur.

"Man, my son, has received the power of voluntary action. Let him not suffer either his deed or his will to perish uselessly, but let him earnestly seek out the portion of labour assigned to him by God in the work of the Universe. Let him submit to it with docility, under the guidance of the Most High, who deigns to make him the instrument of His decrees; and let him accept with resignation the measure of success, which it may be the will of Heaven to bestow."

"Oh! my father," demanded Nadir, "how, amidst this array of human activities, amidst this immense variety of labours which the world spreads out before me, how may I always distinguish the portion of the work to which it is the will of Heaven that I should devote my powers?"

"Always look around and see in what direction thou canst do the most good, without doing any evil.

"Ask of the creatures of God such assistance as they can render thee, without acting in contradiction to the destiny imposed upon them by their Father, and thine.

"Gather the fruit of the vine, but break not its stem to form thy staff. For the stem of the vine, left to its natural destiny, will still for many years offer a grape to the parched lips of the pilgrim. When thou no longer needest the axe, take not its handle to feed the flame of thy hearth, for though no longer useful to thee, the handle of the axe is not the less destined to fulfil a long service.

"Go, my son, be active as the fire that never sleeps, docile as the courser to the impulse of the hand which guides him, resigned as the solitary plant."

Such were the counsels of the sage; and Nadir departed to begin life.

Nadir was beautiful as the moon, when from the blue vault of heaven she silently looks down upon the earth; agile and proud as the stag, at the head of a troop of fawns and young deer; compassionate as a mother to the cries of her child. His words reverberated in the depths of the heart like the cymbal, whose every sound responds to the step of the warrior, burning with impatience to reach his enemy; and when his voice burst forth in song, or when his hand swept the lyre, it seemed as if one were transported to the borders of fountains where the sound melts away in rapture, to the harmonious voices of earth and air.

One day he had to make his choice between two paths. "The first," it was said, "will conduct you to the abodes of a happy people, rich in the joys of life, and skilful in using them: your talents and beauty will there secure to you pleasure, glory, and fortune. By following the other, you will find a tribe of savage men, wild as their native woods, hard as the rocks they scale." The young blood of Nadir rushed towards the spot where difficulty and labour awaited him. He recollected the words of the sage, and found them grateful to his heart. "There," he said, "is a good that I can accomplish, these happy people have no need of me." And he bent his steps towards the savage tribe.

For three days a terrible lion had spread desolation and terror throughout their neighbourhood: all night its roaring was heard around their dwellings: in the day he pounced silently upon his prey. The timid maiden, gathering wild roots, dreaded to see him spring from behind each bush; the mother dared not leave her child within the hut; and the warrior, who went forth with spear in hand, looked anxiously around, fearing to seek the game which he had wounded in the cavern or the pit, lest he should meet the terrible animal ready to dispute it with him. Nadir arrived; the temper of his scimitar, the vigour of his arm, the courage of his soul triumphed over the lion. The people worshipped him as a god: the heads of the tribe came to him and said, "Thou art stronger than we are: command us; and with us thou shalt be the master of this people."

Nadir reflected: "I can impose wise laws upon this people: but, if they submit to them by force, they will act in opposition to the destiny which God has appointed for man, which is, to act in accordance with his own will." Therefore, before disclosing to them his thoughts, Nadir listened to theirs; and their thoughts, on the lips of Nadir, became a music enchanting to their ears. He did not force them to exchange the spear for the plough, nor the toil of the wandering huntsman for that of the industrious labourer; but he headed their chase, and at their feasts purchased at the price of fatigue and danger: he expatiated, in glowing language, on the luxury of fruits improved by culture, of cakes made from wheaten flour, of the presents conferred by the goat, who gives to man her milk, when he ceases to demand her blood. Clad like them, in the skins of the wild beasts he had slain, he taught the young men to place them on their shoulders with more elegance; and the women were eager to fashion them with grace, in order to give pleasure to the young men. Labour introduced among this people abundance, sociability, and innocent gaiety; and they sang: "Nadir is a gift more precious than a son to his mother; for he renders us happy without having ever caused us pain."

Nevertheless, there were some among them who rebelled against the power which the people had delegated to Nadir. First in this number was a young man named Sibal: he was seized. The chiefs who recognized the superiority of Nadir, and the old men, to whom he had taught the science of counsel, exclaimed, "Let Sibal die, that his death may be a warning to others!"

But Nadir replied: "Has he not received from God a destiny more suited to his nature than that of dying for the benefit of others, like the grain which they grind for food?" He ordered Sibal to be brought into his presence, and said, "Why dost thou seek to reject my laws? Is thy heart not strong enough to bear them?"

"Thy laws, like the honey of the bee," said Sibal, "may be sweet to him who has made them; but I cannot feed upon the honey from another's hive."

"Let him who is also capable of making honey," replied Nadir, "assist those who are occupied in filling the hive. Aid me in giving laws to this people, and govern them with me, if thou art competent; if thou art more competent, govern them in my stead."

Sibal fell prostrate before him. The words of Nadir had sunk deep into his heart, even as the shower which awakens the germs still sleeping in the bosom of the earth, and he said: "Oh, Nadir! I am worthy of something better than the death to which they would have condemned me;" and as the father begets the sons who increase his power, so Nadir taught wisdom to Sibal, and the wisdom of Sibal increased the strength of Nadir; and the life of Sibal was before the eyes of this people an example, which would have been lost by his death: for the voice of each morning raises a hymn to the glory of the sun, but the earth forgets in a few hours the cloud which passes away in storm.

The wonders accomplished by Nadir were related at the Court of the Sophi, on whom this tribe depended; and the Court wished to draw him to itself, as it does everything precious. He went, therefore, to the Court of the Sophi. There he beheld Zuléiman, who had distinguished himself in arms. He had surpassed every warrior in valour, every chief in discipline. The Sophi had just delegated to him the government of a province which he had conquered. "Govern it in peace," he said, "since thou hast gained it by war." But Zuléiman was only fit for subjugating men; a thing which may be done so long as war lasts. The huntsman traces out, according to his pleasure, the enclosure within which he wishes to shut up and pursue the beasts of the forest; but the shepherd leads his flocks to the pastures which they themselves prefer.

Zuléiman did not crush his people by his avarice; he did not subject them to unworthy favourites, neither did he force them to respect a degrading idleness; on the contrary, he required them to adorn their towns with religious edifices; he obliged them to construct, upon the path of the traveller, fountains, shaded by palm-trees; and to send their children to schools, in which they might be well educated. But since, in the means he took to obtain their obedience, he did not consult their character, but his own, they did not adapt their wills to his laws; but as the branch, of which the child forms his bow, when subjected to a curve contrary to its nature, wounds the hand which forces it, or, breaking loose, darts from his grasp; so they, being constrained by force to bend to his laws, obeyed his rule with hatred, or evaded it by stratagem.

"These men," said Zuléiman, "are perverse. I sow amongst them the good seed of virtue, and they return to me the tares of vice."

"Brave Zuléiman," replied Nadir, "men become perverse through hatred of a rule opposed to their inclinations. Think not to conduct them to good by laws at variance with the powers which God has bestowed upon them for its attainment. The will of a tyrant is like a thunderbolt hurled against a rock: the rock turns it off, and it strikes a temple."

One day a slave was labouring with his axe on the gnarled trunk of an oak which he wished to fell. It had already wearied his arm, and he demanded time for repose, but in vain; Zuléiman would not grant it. Then the slave, summoning his remaining strength, raised his axe--but only to let it fall in vengeance on the head of Zuléiman. Nadir hurried to the spot, and found him expiring. Zuléiman said to him: "If I sought to precipitate events, it was only that the short period of life might still leave me time for the accomplishment of great deeds."

"Oh! Zuléiman," replied Nadir, "nothing can be truly great, but that which accords with the destiny traced out for man by the finger of Him who alone is great." But Nadir mourned for Zuléiman: for he had been powerful in action, and only failed by depending too much on obedience.

Nadir also visited the Palace of Massour. He beheld him, like a fruit, nourished by the prodigality of a too fertile soil, by the abundance of the fountains, and the moist freshness of the shade; the purifying breath of heaven, the generous ardour of the sun, have never penetrated its retreat. Swelled with useless juice, insipid and discoloured, it hangs, bearing down by its weight the branch which supports it. Such appeared Massour. Life was to him dull and weary; for he knew not how to restore its vigour. In vain he sought for novelty in his luxuries: the cup of pleasure was filled to the very brim; to pour in more was but to make it overflow, without increasing its contents.

Massour, too, was threatened by misfortune; and he beheld it as we behold a phantom, which chills us with terror, though we know it is but a phantom. His riches no longer gave him joy; yet to preserve these riches, he abandoned, though with tears, to the hatred of a powerful enemy, the friend who had implored his aid.

Then Nadir departed from the Palace of Massour, saying, "God has given activity to man, as he has given the current to the waters, to preserve them from corruption."