Chapter XIV: Part 14

Dunyazad said to her, "Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!" She replied, "With love and good will!" It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that Abu Niyyah knew and was certified of his comrade Abu Niyyatayn being dead, so he cried aloud, "There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah the Glorious, the Great. O Allah mine, do thou deliver me from envy, for that it destroyeth the envier and haply jealousy may lead to frowardness against the Lord (glorified be His Glory!);" and so saying he returned to the seat of his kingdom. Now the Sultan's daughter his spouse had two sisters, both married,[FN#414] and she after the delay of a year or so proved with child, but when her tale of days was told and her delivery was nearhand her father fell sick and his malady grew upon him. So he summoned the Lords of his court and his kingdom one and all, and he said, "In very deed this my son-in-law shall after my decease become my successor;" and he wrote a writ to that purport and devised to him the realm and the reign before his demise; nor was there long delay ere the old King departed to the ruth of Allah and they buried him. Hereupon trouble arose between his two other sons-in-law who had married the Princesses and said they, "We were connected with him ere this man was and we are before him in our claim to the kingdom." Thereupon said the Wazir, "This rede is other than right, for that the old King before his decease devised his country to this one and also write it in his will and testament: here therefor ye are opposing him, and the result will be trouble and repentance." And when the Minister spoke on such wise they kept to their houses. Presently the wife of Abu Niyyah bare him a babe, her two sisters being present at her accouchement; and they gave to the midwife an hundred gold pieces and agreed upon what was to be done. So when the babe was born they put in his place a pup and taking the infant away sent it by a slave-girl who exposed it at the gate of the royal garden. Then they said and spread abroad, "Verily, the Sultan's wife hath been delivered of a doglet," and when the tidings came to Abu Niyyah's ears he exclaimed, "Verily this also is a creation of Allah Almighty's:" so they clothed the pup and tended it with all care. Anon the wife became pregnant a second time and when her days were fulfilled she bare a second babe which was the fairest of its time and the sisters did with it as they had done with the first and taking the infant they exposed him at the door of the garden. Then they brought to the mother another dog-pup in lieu of her babe, saying, "Verily the Queen hath been delivered a second time of a doglet." Now in this wise it fared with them: but as regards the two infants which were cast away at the garden gate the first was taken up by the Gardener whose wife, by decree of the Decreer, had become a mother on that very same night; so the man carried away the infant he found exposed and brought the foundling home and the woman fell to suckling it. After the third year the Gardener went forth one day of the days and happening upon the second infant in similar case he bore it also back to his wife who began to suckle it and wash it and tend it and nurse it, till the twain grew up and entered into their third and fourth years. The Sultan had in the meantime been keeping the two pups which he deemed to have been brought forth by his wife until the Queen became in the family-way for the third time. Hereupon the Sultan said, "By Allah, 'tis not possible but that I be present at and witness her accouchement;" and the while she was bringing forth he sat beside her. So she was delivered of a girl-child, in whom the father rejoiced with great joy and bade bring for her wet- nurses who suckled her for two years until the milk time was past.[FN#415] This girl grew up till she reached the age of four years and she could distinguish between her mother and her father who, whenever he went to the royal garden would take her with him. But when she beheld the Gardener's two boys she became familiar with them and would play with them; and, as each day ended, her father would carry her away from the children and lead her home, and this parting was grievous to her and she wept right sore. Hereat the Sultan would take also the boys with her until sleep prevailed over her, after which he would send the twain back to their sire the Gardener. But Abu Niyyah the Sultan would ever wonder at the boys and would exclaim, "Praise be to Allah, how beautiful are these dark-skinned children!" This endured until one day of the days when the King entered into the garden and there found that the two beautiful boys[FN#416] had taken some clay and were working it into the figures of horses and saddles and weapons of war and were opening the ground and making a water-leat;[FN#417] so the Sultan wondered thereat time after time for that he ever found them in similar case. And he marvelled the more because whenever he looked upon them his heart was opened to both and he yearned to the twain and he would give them some gold pieces although he knew not the cause of his affection. Now one day he entered the garden, as was his wont, and he came upon the two boys of whom one was saying, "I am the Sultan!" and the other declaring, "I am the Wazir!" He wondered at their words and forthwith summoned the Gardener and asked him concerning the lads, and lastly quoth he to him, "Say me sooth and fear naught from me." Quoth the other, "By Allah, O King of the Age, albe falsehood be saving, yet is soothfastness more saving and most saving; and indeed as regards these children the elder was found by me exposed at the gateway of the royal garden on such a night of such a year, and I came upon the second in the very same place; so I carried them to my wife who suckled them and tended them and they say to her, 'O mother,' and they say to me, 'O father.'" Hereupon Abu Niyyah the King returned home and summoning the midwife asked her, saying, "By the virtue of my predecessors in this kingdom, do thou tell me the truth concerning my spouse, whether or no she was delivered of two dog- pups," and she answered, "No, by Allah, O King of the Age, verily the Queen bare thee two babes like full moons and the cause of their exposure before the garden gate was thy wife's two sisters who envied her and did with her these deeds whereof she was not aware."[FN#418] Hereupon cried Abu Niyyah, "Alhamdolillah?Glory be to God who hat brought about this good to me and hath united me with my children, and soothfast is the say, ‘Whoso doeth an action shall be requited of his Lord and the envious wight hath no delight and of his envy he shall win naught save despight.'"[FN#419] Then the King of Mosul, being a man of good intent, did not put to death his wife's sisters and their husbands, but banished them his realm, and he lived happily with his Queen and children until such time as the Destroyer of delights and the Severer of societies came to him and he deceased to the mercy of Almighty Allah.

END OF VOLUME XIV.

Appendix A.

INEPTIÆ BODLEIANÆ.

The reader will not understand this allusion (Foreword, p. ix.) without some connaissance de cause. I would apologise for deforming the beautiful serenity and restfulness of The Nights by personal matter of a tone so jarring and so discordant a sound, the chatter and squabble of European correspondence and contention; but the only course assigned to me perforce is that of perfect publicity. The first part of the following papers appeared by the editor's kindness in "The Academy" of November 13, 1886. How strange the contrast of "doings" with "sayings," if we compare the speech reported to have been delivered by Mr. Librarian Nicholson at the opening of the Birmingham Free Public Central Lending and Reference Libraries, on June 1, 1882:?

"As for the Bodleian, I claim your sympathies, not merely because we are trying to do as much for our readers as you are for yours, but because, if the building which you have opened to-day is the newest free public library in the world, the building which I left earlier in the morning is the oldest free public library in the world. (No!) I call it a free public library because any Birmingham artizan who came to us with a trustworthy recommendation might ask to have the rarest gem in our collection placed before him, and need have no fear of asking in vain; and because, if a trusty Birmingham worker wanted the loan of a MS. for three months, it would be lent to the Central Free Library for his use." See Twentieth and Twenty-first Annual Reports of the Free Libraries Committee (Borough of Birmingham), 1883.

And now to my story. The play opens with the following letter:?

No. I.

23, DORSET STREET, PORTMAN SQUARE, Sept. 13, 1886.

"Sir,

"I have the honour to solicit your assistance in the following matter:?

"Our friend Dr. Steingass has kindly consented to collaborate with me in re-translating from the Wortley Montague MS. of the Bodleian Library, Oxford, the tales originally translated in vol. vi. of Dr. Jonathan Scott's 'Arabian Nights.' Dr. Steingass cannot leave town, and I should find it very inconvenient to live at Oxford during the work, both of us having engagements in London. It would be a boon to us if the Curators of the Bodleian would allow the MS. to be transferred, volume by volume, to the India Office, and remain under the custody of the Chief Librarian?yourself. The whole consists of seven volumes, and we would begin with vols. iii. and iv. I may note that the translated tales (as may be seen by Scott's version) contain nothing indelicate or immoral; in fact the whole MS. is exceptionally pure. Moreover, the MS., as far as I can learn, is never used at Oxford. I am the more anxious about this matter as the November fogs will presently drive me from England, and I want to end the extracts ere winter sets in, which can be done only by the co-operation of Dr. Steingass.

I have the honour to be, sir,

Yours obediently, (Signed) RICHARD F. BURTON."

"DR. R. ROST, Chief Librarian, India Office."

As nearly a month had elapsed without my receiving any reply, I directed the following to the Vice-Chancellor of the University, Rev. Dr. Bellamy:?

No. II.

ATHENÆUM CLUB, PALL MALL, Oct. 13, 1886.

"Sir,

"I have the honour to submit to you the following details:?

"On September 13, 1886, I wrote to Dr. Rost, Chief Librarian, India Office, an official letter requesting him to apply to the Curators of the Bodleian Library, Oxford, for the temporary transfer of an Arabic Manuscript, No. 522 (the Wortley Montague text of the Arabian Nights) to the library of the India Office, there to be kept under special charge of the Chief Librarian. There being seven volumes, I wanted only one or two at a time. I undertook not to keep them long, and, further, I pledged myself not to translate tales that might be deemed offensive to propriety.

"Thus, I did not apply for a personal loan of the MS. which, indeed, I should refuse on account of the responsibility which it would involve. I applied for the safe and temporary transfer of a work, volume by volume, from one public library to another.

"My official letter was forwarded at once by Dr. Rost, but this was the only expeditious step. On Saturday, September 25, the Curators could form no quorum; the same thing took place on Saturday, October 9; and there is a prospect that the same will take place on Saturday, October 23.

"I am acquainted with many of the public libraries of Europe, but I know of none that would throw such obstacles in the way of students.

"The best authorities inform me that until June, 1886, the signatures of two Curators enabled a student to borrow a book or a manuscript; but that since June a meeting of three Curators has been required; and that a lesser number does not form a quorum.

"May I be permitted to suggest that the statute upon the subject of borrowing books and manuscripts urgently calls for revision?

I have the honour to be, sir,

Yours obediently, (Signed) RICHARD F. BURTON.

"THE VICE-CHANCELLOR, OXFORD."

The Curators presently met and the following was the highly unsatisfactory result which speaks little for "Bodleian" kindness or courtesy:?

No. III.

Monday, Nov. 1, 1886.

"DEAR SIR RICHARD BURTON,

"The Curators considered your application on Saturday, Oct. 30, afternoon, and the majority of them were unwilling to lend the MS[FN#420]

Yours very truly, (Signed) EDWARD B. NICHOLSON."

Learning through a private source that my case had been made an unpleasant exception to a long-standing rule of precedent, and furthermore that it had been rendered peculiarly invidious by an act of special favour,[FN#421] I again addressed the Vice-Chancellor, as follows:?

No. IV.

23, DORSET STREET, PORTMAN SQUARE, November 3rd, 1886.

"Sir,

"I have the honour to remind you that, on October 13, I communicated with you officially requesting a temporary transfer of the Wortley Montague manuscript (Arabian Nights) from the Bodleian Library to the personal care of the Librarian, India Office.

"To this letter I received no reply. But on November 1, I was informed by Mr. Librarian Nicholson that the Curators had considered my application on Saturday, October 30, and that the majority of them were unwilling to lend the manuscript.

"The same Curators at the same meeting allowed sundry manuscripts for the use of an Indian subject to be sent to the India Office.

"I cannot but protest against this invidious proceeding, and I would willingly learn what cause underlies it.

"1. It cannot be the importance of the manuscript, which is one of the meanest known to me?written in a schoolmaster character, a most erroneous, uncorrected text, and valuable only for a few new tales.

"2. It cannot be any consideration of public morals, for I undertook (if the loan were granted) not to translate tales which might be considered offensive to strict propriety.

"3. It cannot be its requirement for local use. The manuscript stands on an upper shelf in the manuscript room, and not one man in the whole so-called 'University' can read it.

I have the honour to be, sir,

Yours obediently, RICHARD F. BURTON."

"THE VlCE-CHANCELLOR, OXFORD."

In due time came the reply:?

No. V.

ST. JOHN'S COLLEGE, OXFORD, November 6th, 1886.

"Dear Sir,

"I will remove from your mind the belief that I treated your former letter with discourtesy.

"I may say, that it did not appear to me to contain any question or request which I could answer. You informed me that you had made formal application in September for a loan of MSS., and your letter was to complain of the delay in considering this request. You told me that you had learned from the Librarian the cause of the delay (the want of a quorum), and that he had intimated that there would probably be no meeting formed before October 30th.

"You complained of this, and suggested that the statute regulating the lending of the Bodleian books should be speedily revised.

"As I had no power to make a quorum, nor to engage that your suggestion should be adopted; and as your letter made no demand for any further information, I thought it best to reserve it for the meeting of the 30th, when I communicated it to the Curators.

"I will lay the letter (dated November 3rd), with which you have favoured me, before the next meeting of the Curators.

I beg to remain,

Yours faithfully, (Signed) J. BELLAMY."

"SIR R. F. BURTON."

To resume this part of the subject.

The following dates show that I was kept waiting six weeks before being finally favoured with the curtest of refusals:

Application made on September 13th, and sent on.

On Saturday, September 25th, Curators could not form quorum, and deferred next meeting till Saturday, October 9th.

Saturday, October 9th. Again no quorum; and yet it might easily have been formed, as three Curators were on or close to the spot.

Saturday, October 23rd. Six Curators met and did nothing.

Saturday, October 30th. Curators met and refused me the loan of MS.

My letter addressed to the Vice-Chancellor was read, and notice was given for Saturday (December 3rd, 1886) of a motion, "That the MS. required by Sir R. F. Burton be lent to him"?and I was not to be informed of the matter unless the move were successful. Of course it failed. One of the Curators (who are the delegates and servants of Convocation) was mortally offended by my letter to "The Academy," and showed the normal smallness of the official mind by opposing me simply because I told the truth concerning the laches of his "learned body."

Meanwhile I had addressed the following note to the Most Honourable the Chancellor of the University.[FN#422]

23, DORSET STREET, PORTMAN SQUARE, November 30th, 1886.

"MY LORD,

"I deeply regret that the peculiar proceedings of the Bodleian Library, Oxford, necessitate a reference to a higher authority with the view of eliciting some explanation.

"The correspondence which has passed between the Curators of the Bodleian Library and myself will be found in the accompanying printed paper.

"Here it may be noticed that the Committee of the Orientalist Congress, Vienna, is preparing to memorialise H.M.'s Secretary of State, praying that Parliament will empower the British Museum to lend out Oriental MSS. under proper guarantees. The same measure had been proposed at the Leyden Congress of 1883; and thus an extension, rather than a contraction of the loan-system has found favour with European savants.[FN#423]

"I believe, my Lord, that a new statute upon the subject of the Bodleian loans of books and MSS. is confessedly required, and that it awaits only the initiative of the Chancellor of the University, without whose approval it cannot be passed.

I have, &c., (Signed) RICHARD F. BURTON."

"THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE CHANCELLOR."

My object being only publicity I was not disappointed by the following reply:?

HATFIELD HOUSE, HATFIELD, HERTS, December 1st, 1886.

"DEAR SIR RICHARD,

"I beg to acknowledge your letter of the 30th of November with enclosure.

"I have, however, no power over the Bodleian Library, and, therefore, I am unable to assist you.

Yours, very truly, (Signed) SALISBURY."

"SIR RICHARD F. BURTON, K.C.M.G."

On January 29, 1887, there was another "Bodleian Meeting," all the Curators save one being present and showing evident symptoms of business. The last application on the list of loans entered on the Agenda paper ran thus:?

V MS. Bodl. Vols. 550-556 to the British Museum (the 7 vols. successively) for the use of Mr. F. F. Arbuthnot's Agent.

[The MS. lately refused to Sir R. Burton. Mr. Arbuthnot wishes to have it copied.]

It was at once removed by the Regius Professor of Divinity (Dr. Ince) and carried nem. con. that, until the whole question of lending Bodleian books and MSS. then before Council, be definitely settled, no applications be entertained; and thus Professor Van Helton, Bernard Kolbach and Mr. Arbuthnot were doomed, like myself, to be disappointed.

On January 31, 1887, a hebdomadal Council was called to deliberate about a new lending statute for submission to Convocation; and an amendment was printed in the "Oxford University Gazette." It proposed that the Curators by a vote of two-thirds of their body, and at least six forming a quorum, might lend books or MSS. to students, whether graduates or not; subject, when the loans were of special value, to the consent of Convocation. Presently the matter was discussed in "The Times" (January 25th; April 28th; and May 31st), which simply re-echoed the contention of Mr. Chandler's vigorous pamphlets.[FN#424] Despite the letters of its correspondent "F. M. M." (May 6th, 1887), a "host in himself," who ought to have added the authority of his name to the sensible measures which he propounded, the leading journal took a sentimental view of "Bodley's incomparable library" and strongly advocated its being relegated to comparative inutility.

On May 31, 1887, an amendment practically forbidding all loans came before the House. In vain Professor Freeman declared that a book is not an idol but a tool which must wear out sooner or later. To no purpose Bodley's Librarian proved that of 460,000 printed volumes in the collection only 460 had been lent out, and of these only one had been lost. THE AMENDMENT FORBIDDING THE PRACTICE OF LENDING WAS CARRIED BY 106 VOTES TO 60.

Personally I am not dissatisfied with this proceeding. It is retrograde legislation befitting the days when books were chained to the desks. It suffers from a fatal symptom?the weakness of extreme measures. And the inevitable result in the near future will be a strong reaction: Convocation will presently be compelled to adopt some palliation for the evil created by its own folly.

The next move added meanness to inertness. I do not blame Mr. E. B. Nicholson, Bodley's Librarian, because he probably had orders to write the following choice specimen:

30/3/1887.

"DEAR SIR RICHARD BURTON,

"I have received two vols. of four (read six) 'Supplemental Nights' with a subscription form. If a Bodleian MS. is to be copied for any volume, I must stipulate that that volume be supplied to us gratis. Either my leave or that of the Curators is required for the purpose of copying for publication, and I have no doubt that they would make the same stipulation. I feel sure you would in any case not propose to charge us for such a volume, but until I hear from you I am in a difficulty as to how to reply to the subscription form I have received.

Yours faithfully, (Signed) E. B. NICHOLSON, Librarian."

The able and energetic papers, two printed and one published by Mr. H. W. Chandler, of Pembroke College, Oxford, clearly prove the following facts:?

1. That on June 20, 1610, a Bodleian Statute peremptorily forbade any books or manuscripts being taken out of the Library.

2. That, despite the peremptory and categorical forbiddance by Bodley, Selden, and others, of lending Bodleian books and MSS., loans of both have for upwards of two centuries formed a precedent.

3. That Bodley's Statute (June 20th, An. 1610) was formally and officially abrogated by Convocation on May 22nd, 1856; Convocation retaining the right to lend.

4. That a "privileged list" of (113) borrowers presently arose and is spoken of as a normal practice:?sicut mos fuit, says the Statute (Tit. xx. iii. § 11) of 1873; and, lastly,

5. That loans of MSS. and printed books have for years been authorised to approved public libraries.

After these premises I proceed to notice other points bearing upon the subject which, curious to say, are utterly neglected or rather ignored by Mr. Chandler and "The Times." Sir Thomas Bodley never would have condemned students to study in the Bodleian had he known the peines fortes et dures to which in these days they are thereby doomed. "So picturesque and so peculiar is its construction," says a writer, "that it ensures the maximum of inefficiency and discomfort." The whole building is a model of what a library ought not to be. It is at once over solid and ricketty: room for the storage of books is wanted, and its wooden staircases, like touchwood or tinder, give one the shudders to think of fire. True, matches and naked lights are forbidden in the building; but all know how these prohibitions are regarded by the public, and it is dreadful to think of what might result from a lucifer dropped at dark upon the time-rotten planks. The reading public in the XIXth century must content itself with boxes or stalls, like those of an old-fashioned tavern or coffee-house of the humbler sort wherein two readers can hardly find room for sitting back to back. The atmosphere is unpleasant and these mean little cribs, often unduly crowded, are so dark that after the 1st October the reading-room must be closed at 3 p.m. What a contrast are the treasures in the Bodleian with their mean and miserable surroundings and the way in which the public is allowed to enjoy them. The whole establishment calls urgently for reform. Accommodation for the books is wanted; floor and walls will hardly bear the weight which grows every year at an alarming ratio?witness the Novel-room. The model Bodleian would be a building detached and isolated, the better to guard its priceless contents, and containing at least double the area of the present old and obsolete Bibliotheca. An establishment of the kind was proposed in 1857; but unfortunately, the united wisdom of the University preferred new "Examination Schools" for which the old half-ruinous pile would have been sufficiently well fitted. The "Schools," however, were for the benefit of the examiners; ergò the scandalous sum of £100,000 (some double the amount) was wasted upon the well-nigh useless Gothic humbug in High Street, and thus no money was left for the prime want of the city. After some experience of public libraries and reading-rooms on the Continent of Europe I feel justified in asserting that the Bodleian in its present condition is a disgrace to Oxford; indeed a dishonour to letters in England.

The Bodleian has a succursale, the Radcliffe, which represents simply a step from bad to worse. The building was intended for an especial purpose, the storage of books, not for a salle de lecture. Hence the so-called "Camera" is a most odious institution, a Purgatory to readers. It is damp in the wet season from October to May; stuffy during the summer heats and a cave of Eolus in windy weather: few students except the youngest and strongest, can support its changeable and nerve-depressing atmosphere. Consequently the Camera is frequented mainly by the townsfolk, a motley crew who there study their novels and almanacs and shamefully misuse the books.[FN#425] In this building lights, forbidden by the Bodleian, are allowed; it opens at 10 a.m. and closes at 10 p.m.. and the sooner it reverts to its original office of a book-depôt the better.

But the Bodleian-Radcliffe concern is typical of the town; and, if that call for reform, so emphatically does

"Oxford, that scarce deserves the name of land."

From my childhood I had heard endless tirades and much of what is now called "blowing" about this ancient city, and my youth (1840-42) suffered not a little disappointment. The old place, still mostly resembling an overgrown monastery-village, lies in the valley of the Upper Thames, a meadowland drained by two ditches; the bigger or Ise, classically called the Isis, and the lesser the Charwell. This bottom is surrounded by high and healthy uplands, not as the guide-books say "low scarce-swelling hills that softly gird the old town;" and these keep off the winds and make the riverine valley, with its swamped meads and water-meadows, more fenny and feverish even than Cambridge. The heights and woods bring on a mild deluge between October 1st and May 1st; the climate is rainy as that of Shap in Westmoreland (our old home) and, as at Fernando Po and Singapore, the rain it raineth more or less every day during one half of the year. The place was chosen by the ancient Britons for facility of water transport, but men no longer travel by the Thames and they have naturally neglected the older road. Throughout England, indeed a great national work remains to be done. Not a river, not a rivulet, but what requires cleaning out and systematic excavation by élévateurs and other appliances of the Suez Canal. The channels filled up by alluvium and choked by the American weed, are now raised so high that the beds can no longer act as drains: at Oxford for instance the beautiful meadows of Christ Church are little better than swamps and marshes, the fittest homes for Tertiana, Quartana and all the fell sisterhood: a blue fog broods over the pleasant site almost every evening, and a thrust with the umbrella opens up water. This is the more inexcusable as the remedy would be easy and by no means costly: the river-mud, if the ignorant peasants only knew the fact, forms the best of manures; and this, instead of being deposited in spoil-heaps on the banks for the rain to wash back at the first opportunity, should be carried by tram-rails temporarily laid down and be spread over the distant fields, thus almost paying for the dredge works. Of course difficulties will arise: the management of the Thames is under various local "Boards," and each wooden head is able and aye ready to show its independence and ill temper at the sacrifice of public interests to private fads.

Hence the climate of Oxford is detestable. Strong undergraduates cannot withstand its nervous depression and the sleeplessness arising from damp air charged with marsh gases and bacteria. All students take time to become acclimatized here, and some are never acclimatized at all. And no wonder, when the place is drained by a fetid sewer of greenish yellow hue containing per 10,000, 245 parts of sewage. The only tolerable portion of the year is the Long Vacation, when the youths in mortar-boards all vanish from the view, while many of the oldsters congregate in the reformed convents called Colleges.

Climate and the resolute neglect of sanitation are probably the chief causes why Oxford never yet produced a world-famous and epoch-making man, while Cambridge can boast of Newton and Darwin. The harlequin city of domes and spires, cribs and slums shows that curious concurrence of opposites so common in England. The boasted High Street is emblematical of the place, where moral as well as material extremes meet and are fain to dwell side by side. It is a fine thoroughfare branching off into mere lanes, neither these nor that apparently ever cleaned. The huge buildings of scaling, mouldering stone are venerable-looking piles which contrast sadly with the gabled cottages of crepi, hurlin, or wattle and dab; and the brand-new store with its plate-glass windows hustles the old-fashioned lollipop-shop. As regards minor matters there are new market passages but no Public Baths; and on Sundays, the stands are destitute of cabs, although with that queer concession to democracy which essentially belongs to the meaner spirited sort of Conservatism, "'busses" are allowed to ply after 2 p.m., when the thunder of bells somewhat abates.

Old "Alma Mater," who to me has ever been a "durissima noverca," dubs herself "University;" and not a few of her hopefuls entre faiblesse et folie, still entitle themselves "University men." The title once belonged to Oxford but now appertains to it no more. Compare with it the model universities of Berlin, Paris and Vienna, where the lists of lecturers bear the weightiest names in the land. Oxford is but a congeries of twenty-one colleges and five halls or hostels, each educating its pupils (more or less) with an especial eye to tutors' fees and other benefices, the vested rights of the "Dons." Thus all do their best to prevent the scholars availing themselves of University, as opposed to Collegiate, lectures; and thus they can stultify a list of some sixty-six professors. This boarding-school system is simply a dishonest obstacle to students learning anything which may be of use to them in after-life, such as modern and Oriental languages, chemistry, anthropology and the other -ologies. Here in fact men rarely progress beyond the Trivium and the Quadrivium of the Dark Ages, and tuition is a fine study of the Res scibilis as understood by the Admirable Crichton and other worthies, circa A.D. 1500. The students of Queen Elizabeth's day would here?and here only?find themselves in congenial company. Worse still, Oxford is no longer a "Seat of learning" or a "House of the Muses," nor can learned men be produced under the present system. The place has become a collection of finishing schools, in fact little better than a huge board for the examination of big boys and girls.

Oxford and her education are thoroughly disappointing; but the sorest point therein is that this sham University satisfies the hapless Public, which knows nothing about its fainéance. It is a mere stumbling-block in the way of Progress especially barring the road to one of the main wants of English Education, a great London University which should not be ashamed to stand by Berlin, Paris and Vienna.

Had the good knight and "Pious Founder," Sir Thomas Bodley, who established his library upon the ruins of the University Bibliotheca wrecked by the "Reformation," been able to foresee the condition of Oxford and her libraries?Bodleian and Radcliffean?in this latter section of the XIXth century, he would hardly, I should hope, have condemned English students and Continental scholars to compulsory residence and labour in places so akin to the purgatorial.

Appendix B.

THE THREE UNTRANSLATED TALES IN MR. E. J. W. GIBB'S "FORTY
VEZIRS."

THE THIRTY-EIGHTH VEZIR'S STORY.
(Page 353 of Mr. Gibb's translation.)

There was in the city of Cairo a merchant, and one day he bought a slave-girl, and took her to his house. There was in his house an ape; this the merchant fetched and dragged up to the slave-girl. He said, "Yield thyself over to this, and I will set thee free." The slave-girl did so of necessity, and she conceived by him. When her time was come she bare a son all of whose members were shaped like those of a man, save that he had a tail like an ape. The merchant and the slave-girl occupied themselves bringing up this son. One day, when the son was five or six months old, the merchant filled a large cauldron with milk, and lighted a great fire under it. When it was boiling, he seized the son and cast him into the cauldron; and the girl began to lament. The merchant said, "Be silent, make no lamentation; go and be free;" and he gave her some sequins. Then he turned, and the cauldron had boiled so that not even any bones were left. The merchant took down the cauldron, and placed seven strainers, one above the other; and he took the scum that had gathered on the liquid in the cauldron and filtered it through the seven strainers, and he took that which was in the last and put it into a bottle. And the slave-girl bare in her heart bitter hatred against the merchant, and she said in herself, "Even as thou hast burned my liver will I burn thee;" and she began to watch her opportunity. (One day) the merchant said to her, "Make ready some food," and went out. So the girl cooked the food, and she mixed some of that poison in the dish. When the merchant returned she brought the tray and laid it down, and then withdrew into a corner. The merchant took a spoonful of that food, and as soon as he put it into his mouth, he knew it to be the poison, and he cast the spoon that was in his hand at the girl. A piece, of the bigness of a pea, of that poisoned food fell from the spoon on the girl's hand, and it made the place where it fell black. As for the merchant, he turned all black, and swelled till he became like a blown-out skin, and he died. But the slave-girl medicined herself and became well; and she kept what remained of the poison and sold it to those who asked for it.

THE FORTIETH VEZIR'S STORY.
(Page 366 in Mr. Gibb's translation.)

There was of old time a tailor, and he had a fair wife. One day this woman sent her slave-girl to the carder's to get some cotton teased. The slave-girl went to the carder's shop and gave him cotton for a gown to get teased. The carder while teasing the cotton displayed his yard to the slave-girl. She blushed and passed to his other side. As she thus turned round the carder displayed his yard on that side also. Thus the slave-girl saw it on that side too. And she went and said to her mistress, "Yon carder, to whom I went, has two yards." The lady said to her, "Go and say to yon carder, 'My mistress wishes thee; come at night.'" So the slave-girl went and said this to the carder. As soon as it was night the carder went to that place and waited. The woman went out and met the carder and said, "Come and have to do with me while I am lying by my husband." When it was midnight the carder came and waked the woman. The woman lay conveniently and the carder fell to work. She felt that the yard which entered her was but one, and said, "Ah my soul, carder, at it with both of them." While she was softly speaking her husband awaked and asked, "What means thy saying, 'At it with both of them?'" He stretched out his hand to his wife's kaze and the carder's yard came into it. The carder drew himself back and his yard slipped out of the fellow's hand, and he made shift to get away. The fellow said, "Out on thee, wife, what meant that saying of thine, 'At it with both of them?'" The woman said, "O husband, I saw in my dream that thou wast fallen into the sea and wast swimming with one hand and crying out, 'Help! I am drowning!' I shouted to thee from the shore, 'At it with both of them,' and thou begannest to swim with both thy hands." Then the husband said, "Wife, I too know that I was in the sea, from this that a wet fish came into my hand and then slipped out and escaped; thou speakest truly." And he loved his wife more than before.

THE LADY'S THIRTY-FOURTH STORY.
(From the India Office MS.)
(Page 399 in Mr. Gibb's translation.)

They tell that there was a Khoja and he had an exceeding fair son, who was so beautiful that he who looked upon him was confounded. This Khoja watched over his son right carefully; he let him not come forth from a certain private chamber, and he left not the ribbon of his trousers unsealed. When the call to prayer was chanted from the minaret, the boy would ask his father saying, "Why do they cry out thus?" and the Khoja would answer, "Someone has been undone and has died, and they are calling out to bury him." And the boy believed these words. The beauty of this boy was spoken of in Persia; and a Khoja came from Persia to Baghdad with his goods and chattels for the love of this boy. And he struck up a friendship with the boy's father, and ever gave to him his merchandise at an easy price, and he sought to find out where his son abode. When the Khoja had discovered that the boy was kept safe in that private chamber, he one day said to his father, "I am about to go to a certain place; and I have a chest whereinto I have put whatsoever I possess of valuables; this I shall send to thee, and do thou take it and shut it up in that chamber where thy son is." And the father answered, "Right gladly." So the Khoja let build a chest so large that he himself might lie in it, and he put therein wine and all things needful for a carouse. Then he said to his servant, "Go, fetch a porter and take this chest to the house of Khoja Such-an-one, and say, 'My master has sent this to remain in your charge,' and leave it and come away. And again on the morrow go and fetch it, saying, 'My master wishes the chest.'" So the servant went for a porter, and the Khoja hid himself in the chest. Then the boy laded the porter with the chest and took it to the other Khoja's house, where he left it and went away. When it was night the Khoja came forth from the chest, and he saw a moon-face sleeping in the bed-clothes, and a candle was burning in a candlestick at his head; and when the Khoja beheld this he was confounded and exclaimed, "And blessed be God, the fairest of Creators!"[FN#426] Then the Khoja laid out the wine and so forth; and he went up softly and waked the boy. And the boy arose from his place and addressed himself to speak, saying, "Wherefore hast thou come here?" Straightway the Khoja filled a cup and gave it to him, saying, "Drink this, and then I shall tell thee what manner of man I am." And he besought the boy and spread out sequins before him. So the boy took the cup and drank what was in it. When the Khoja had given him to drink three or four cups the face of the boy grew tulip-hued, and he became heated with the wine and began to sport with the Khoja. So all that night till morning did the Khoja make merry with the boy; and whatsoever his desire was, he attained thereto. When it was morning, the Khoja again went into the chest; and the servant came and laded the porter with the same and took it back to his house. And on the morrow, when the boy and his father were sitting together, the mu'ezzin chanted the call to prayer, whereupon the boy exclaimed, "Out on thee, father; and the boy who is undone dies, and so this fellow goes up there and bawls out; last night they undid me; how is it that I am not dead?" Then the father smote the boy on the mouth and said, "Speak not such words; they are a shame." And then he knew why the chest had come.

Arabian Nights, Volume 14
Footnotes

[FN#1] From the Wortley Montague MS. vol. iii. pp. 80-96. J. Scott: vol. vi. pp. 1-7. Histoire du Sulthan d'Yemen et de ses trois fils; Gauttier vol. vi. pp. 158-165.

[FN#2] The worst disease in human life, now recognised as "Annus Domini."

[FN#3] Arab. "Mál wa Ghawál": in Badawi parlance "Mál" would = flocks and herds (pecunia, pecus); and amongst the burghers = ready money, coin. Another favourite jingle of similar import is "Mál wa Nawál."
This is an older form of the Sultan of Al-Yaman and his three sons, taken from M. Zotenberg's "Chronique de Tabari," vol. ii. pp. 357-61.
Après la mort de Nizár, ses fils, en prenant possession des objets que leur père avait donnés à chacun, eurent des contestations relativement aux autres biens. Alors ils montèrent sur des chameaux pour se rendre à Nadjrân auprès du devin, voulant soumettre à son jugement le partage. Sur la route, ils rencontrèrent un terrain couvert d'herbe, dont une partie était broutée, et une partie intacte. Modhar dit: Le chameau qui a brouté cette herbe est borgne de l'œil droit. Rabî'a dit: Il est boiteux du pied droit. Iyâd dit: Il a la queue coupée. Anmâr dit: Il s'est échappé des mains de son maître, parce qu'il est farouche. Un peu plus loin, ils rencontrèrent un homme monté sur un chameau; ils lui demandèrent qui il était. Il répondit qu'il était de telle tribu, et qu'il était à la recherche d'un chameau qui s'était échappé. Modhar lui dit: Ce chameau n'est-il pas borgne de l'œil droit??Oui, répondit l'homme.?Ne penche-t-il pas du côté droit? demanda Rabî'a.?Oui.?Il n'a pas de queue, dit Iyâd.?C'est vrai, répondit l'homme.?Anmâr ajouta: Il est farouche.?Oui, dit l'homme; où est-il, ce chameau??Nous ne l'avons pas vu, dirent les frères.?Si vous ne l'avez vu, réplique l'homme, comment savez-vous toutes ces particularités? Il insista et dit: C'est certainement vous qui l'avez; rendez-le moi.?Nous ne l'avons pas. Il leur demanda où ils allaient. Les frères lui dirent qu'ils se rendaient à Nadjrân, auprès d'Af'a, le devin, pour soumettre à son jugement un différend qui s'était élevé entre eux. Cet homme, qui était seul, s'attacha à leurs pas, et suivit les quatre frères jusqu'à Nadjrân.
Af'a ne les connaissait pas, mais il les re{ç}ut gracieusement et leur demanda le but de leur voyage. Ils lui dirent: Notre père est mort, et nous ne pouvons pas nous accorder sur la partage de ses biens; nous sommes venus afin que tu prononces entre nous quatre; nous sommes tombés d'accord de nous soumettre à ton jugement. Alors le propriétaire du chameau dit: Arrange d'abord l'affaire de mon chameau entre eux et moi; j'ai perdu un chameau, ce sont eux qui le tiennent. Af'a lui dit: Comment sais-tu qu'ils l'ont? L'homme répondit: Parce qu'ils m'ont donné son signalement: s'ils ne l'avaient pas vu, comment le sauraient-ils? Modhar dit: J'ai reconnu que ce chameau était borgne de l'œil droit, parce qu'il avait brouté l'herbe d'un côté seulement, et qu'il ne l'avait pas touché du côté où elle était meilleure. Rabî'a dit: J'ai remarqué que son pied droit avait imprimé sur le sol des traces bien marquées et je n'ai vu celles de l'autre pied; de là j'ai su qu'il penchait du côté droit. Iyâd dit: J'ai vu que ses crottins étaient réunis en tas, comme ceux du bœuf, et non comme sont ordinairement ceux du chameau, qui les écrase (éparpille?) avec sa queue; j'ai reconnu par là qu'il n'avait pas de queue. Anmâr dit: J'ai remarqué que l'herbe n'était pas broutée à un seul et même endroit, mais qu'il avait pris partout une bouchée: j'ai su que le chameau était d'un caract{è}re farouche et inquiet. Le devin admirait le savoir et l'intelligence des quatre frères. Cette manière de juger fait partie de l'art de la divination, et on l'appelle bâb al-tazkîn; c'est une des branches de la science. Ensuite le devin dit au propriétaire de chameau: Ces gens-là n'ont pas ton chameau; va-t'en. Ayant demandé aux quatre frères qui ils étaient, et ceux-ci lui ayant déclaré qu'ils étaient les fils de Nizâr, fils de Ma'add, fils d'Adnân, le devin dit: excusez-moi de ne vous avoir pas reconnus; j'ai été lié d'amitié avec votre père: soyez mes hôtes ce jour et cette nuit, demain j'arrangerai votre affaire. Ils consentirent. Le père et les ancêtres de ce devin avaient été chefs de Nadjrân.
Le devin leur fit préparer un repas. On leur servit un agneau rôti et une cruche de vin, et ils mangèrent. Lorsque le vin leur monta à la tête, Modhar dit: Je n'ai jamais bu un vin plus doux que celui-ci; mais il vient d'une vigne plantée sur un tombeau. Rabî'a dit: Je n'ai jamais mangé de la viande d'agneau plus succulente que celle-ci; mais cette agneau a été nourri du lait d'une chienne. Anmâr dit: {L}e blé qui a servi à faire le pain que nous venons de manger a été semé dans un cimetière. Iyâd dit: Notre hôte est un excellent homme; mais il n'est pas un fils légitime; ce n'est pas son père (légal) qui l'a engendré, mais un autre homme; sa mère l'a conçut dans l'adultère.
Le devin recueillit leurs paroles, mais il ne leur en dit rien. Quand la nuit fut venue et qu'ils furent endormis, il appela son intendant et lui demanda de quelle vigne provenait le vin (que l'on avait servi aux hôtes). L'intendant dit: Une vigne a poussée sur le tombeau de ton père et elle est devenue grande; j'en ai recueilli le raisin, et ce vin en provient. Ensuite le devin fit venir le berger, et le questionna relativement à l'agneau. Le berger dit: Quand cet agneau vint au monde, il était très-joli; mais s{a} mère mourut, et il n'y avait pas alors de brebis qui e{u}t mis bas. Une chienne avait eu des petits; je mis cet agneau avec la chienne jusqu'à ce qu'il f{u}t grand. Je n'en ai pas trouvé de meilleur pour te l'apporter, lorsque tu m'as fait demander un agneau. Enfin le devin appela le métayer, et l'interrogea sur le blé. Le métayer lui dit: Il y a d'un côté de notre champ un cimetière. Cette année-ci j'ai ensemencé une partie du cimetière, et c'est de là que provient le blé que je t'ai apporté. Le devin, fort étonné de ces explications, dit: Maintenant c'est le tour de ma mère. Il alla trouver sa mère et lui dit: Si tu ne m'avoues pas la vérité en ce qui me concerne, je te fais mourir. Sa mère parla ainsi: Ton père était le chef de ce peuple et possédait de grandes richesses. Comme je n'avais pas d'enfant de lui, je craignis qu'à sa mort ses biens ne tombassent entre des mains étrangères et qu'un autre ne prit le pouvoir. Un Arabe, homme de belle figure, fut un jour l'hôte de ton père; je m'abandonnai à lui, la nuit; je devins enceinte, et c'est à lui que tu dois ta naissance. J'ai dit à ton père que tu avais été engendré par lui.
Le lendemain, le devin interrogea les quatres frères sur leur paroles, en disant: Je veux que vous me fassiez connaître comment vous avez su les choses que vous avez dites. Modhar, le premier, lui dit: Je su que la vigne était plantée sur un tombeau, parce que, quand nous avions bu le vin, nous devenions tristes et nous avions la figure altérée; ce qui n'est pas l'effet ordinaire du vin. Le deuxième, dit: J'ai reconnu ce qui concernait l'agneau, parce que nous n'avions mangé de viande plus douce que celle-là, et qu'il n'y a, dans le monde, rien de plus doux que le lait de la chienne. Le troisième dit: Les Arabes honorent beaucoup leurs hôtes; lorsqu'ils traitent des hôtes, ils restent avec eux et partagent leur repas; mais toi tu nous as fait servir le repas, tu nous as quittés et tu t'{a}s mis à épier nos paroles. J'ai reconnu par là ta condition; j'ai remarqué que tu n'avais pas la gravité des Arabes, et j'ai pensé qu'il y avait quelque illégalité dans ton origine. Le quatrième dit: J'ai reconnu la qualité du blé, parce que le blé semé dans un cimetière donne au pain un goût de terre; et j'ai trouvé ce goût dans ce pain. Le devin leur dit: Vous êtes plus savant que moi; vous n'avez pas besoin de mon jugement. Ils répliquèrent: Quand deux personnes ont un differend, il faut un tiers pour juger, qu'il soit savant ou non. Ce sont les dernières volontés de notre père, qui nous a dit de nous en rapporter à ton jugement, si nous n'étions pas d'accord sur l'héritage. Le devin dit: Indiquez-moi exactement ce que votre père a donné à chacun de vous et ce qu'il a laissé. Notre père, dirent-ils, a laissé de l'or, de l'argent, des chevaux, des moutons, des tapis et des vases de toute espèce et en grand nombre. Ils racontèrent ensuite ce que leur père avait donné à chacun d'eux. Le devin dit: Laissez à Modhar tout ce que votre père avait en fait d'or et de chameaux; car ces objets sont rouges. Donnez les chevaux, les esclaves et les vêtements noirs à Rabî'a; les esclaves blancs, l'argent et les vêtements blancs à Iyâd, et les tapis et les moutons à Anmâr. Les quatre frères acceptèrent cette sentence, et s'en retournèrent.

[FN#4] In the W. M. MS. the sisters are called "Shahrzádeh" (= City-born) and "Dinárzádeh" (= ducat-born) and the royal brothers Shahrbáz (= City-player or City-falcon) and Kahramán (vol. i. p. 1) alias Samarbán (ibid.). I shall retain the old spelling.

[FN#5] I have hitherto translated "wa adraka (masc.) Shahrázáda al-Sabáh," as = And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day; but it is more correct as well as more picturesque to render the phrase "was surprised (or overtaken) by the dawn."

[FN#6] Arab. "'Adrán," the root being 'Adr = much and heavy rain.

[FN#7] For "Halwá" see vol. ii. pp. 47-212. Scott (vol. vi. 413) explains "Hámiz" as "a species of small grain," probably confounding it with Hummus (or Himmis) = vetches. It is the pop. term for pickles, "sour meat" as opposed to "sweetmeats." The Arabs divide the camel's pasture into "Khullah" which means sweet food called bread and into "Hámiz" termed fruit: the latter is composed mainly of salsolaceæ, and as camels feed upon it during the hot season it makes them drink. Hence in Al-Hariri (Preface) "I change the pasture," i.e., I pass from grave to gay, from light to dignified style. (Chenery, p. 274).