Chapter IV: Introduction (2)

However I may appear inclined in favor of the Desátir, I shall avoid incurring the blame of unfair concealment by adding to the names of the great critics above quoted, adverse to this work, the great one of William von Schlegel. I must avow it; the celebrated author declares the Desátir,[48] intimately connected with the Dabistán, to be “a forgery still more refined (than that of the Brahman who deceived Wilford),[49] and written in a pretended ancient language, but fabricated at pleasure.” As he, however, presents no arguments of his own, but only appeals in a note to the articles written by Silvestre de Sacy and Erskine, there is no occasion here for a further observation concerning this question. As to von Schlegel’s opinion upon the Dabistán, I reserve some remarks upon it for another place.

General arguments, opposed to general objections, may produce persuasion, but are not sufficient for establishing the positive truth concerning a subject in question. It is necessary to dive into the Mahabadian language itself for adequate proofs of its genuineness. I might have justly hesitated to undertake this task, but found it already most ably achieved by baron von Hammer,[50] in whom we do not know which we ought to admire most, his vast store of Oriental erudition, or the indefatigable activity, with which he diffuses, in an unceasing series of useful works, the various information derived not only from the study of the dead letter in books, but also from converse with the living spirit of the actual Eastern world. This sagacious reviewer of the Desátir, examining its language, finds proofs of its authenticity in the nature of its structure and the syllables of its formation, which, when compared to the modern pure Persian or Derí, have the same relation to it as the Gothic to the English; the old Persian and the old Germanic idioms exhibit in the progress of improvement such a wonderful concordance and analogy as can by no means be the result of an ingenious combination, nor that of a lucky accidental coincidence. Thus, the language of the Desátir has syllables of declension affixed to pronouns, which coincide with those of the Gothic and Low German, but are not recognisable in the modern form of the Persian pronouns. This is also the case with some forms of numerical and other words. The Mahabadian language contains also a good number of Germanic radicals which cannot be attributed to the well-known affinity of the German and the modern Persian, because they are no more to be found in the latter, but solely in the Desátir. This has besides many English, Greek, and Latin words, a series of which baron von Hammer exhibits, and――which ought to be duly noticed――a considerable number of Mahabadian words, belonging also to the languages enumerated, are sought in vain in any Persian dictionary of our days! Surely, an accidental coincidence of an invented factitious language, with Greek, Latin, and Germanic forms would be by far a greater and more inexplicable miracle, than the great regularity of this ancient sacred idiom of Persia, and its conformity with the modern Deri. It is nevertheless from the latter that the forgery is chiefly inferred.

Moreover, the acute philologer, analysing the Mahabadian language by itself, points out its essential elements and component parts, that is, syllables of derivation, formation, and inflexion. Thus he adduces as syllables of derivation certain vowels, or consonants preceded by certain vowels; he shows certain recurring terminations to be syllables of formation for substantives, adjectives, and verbs; he sets forth particular forms of verbs, and remarkable expressions. All this he supports by numerous examples taken from the text of the Desátir. Such a process enabled him to rectify in some places the Persian translation of the Mahabadian text.

I can but repeat that my only object here is to present the question in the same state that I found it; and am far from contesting, nay, readily admit, the possibility of arguments which may lead to a contrary conclusion. Until such are produced, although not presuming to decide, I may be permitted to believe that the language of the Desátir is no forgery; I may range myself on the side of the celebrated Orientalist mentioned, who, ten years after the date of his review of the Desátir (ten years which, with him, are a luminous path of ever-increasing knowledge), had not changed his opinion upon the language of the Desátir, and assigns to it[51] a place among the Asiatic dialects; according to him, as it is more nearly related to the new Persian than to the Zand and the Pehlevi, it may be considered as a new intermediate ring in the hermetic chain which connects the Germanic idioms with the old Asiatic languages; it is perhaps the most ancient dialect of the Deri,[52] spoken, if not in Fars, yet in the north-eastern countries of the Persian empire, to wit, in Sogd and Bamian. When it ceased to be spoken, like several other languages of by-gone ages, the Mahabádian was preserved perhaps in a single book, or fragment of a book, similar in its solitude to the Hebrew Bible, or the Persian Zend-Avesta.

At what epoch was the Desátir written?

The epoch assigned to it, according to different views, is the sixth[53] or the seventh[54] century of our era, even the later time of the Seljucides, who reigned from A. D. 1037 to 1193. The latter epoch is adopted as the earliest assignable, by Silvestre de Sacy, who alleges two reasons for his opinion: the one is his belief that the new Persian language, in which the Desátir was translated and commented by the fabricator of the original or Mahabadian text did not exist earlier; the second reason refers to some parts of the contents of the Desátir. I shall touch upon both these questions.

It is useless to discuss what can never be ascertained, who the author of the Desátir was. But this work would be unintelligible without the Persian translation and commentary. Silvestre de Sacy asks: “Are not this translation and this commentary, themselves pseudonymous and apocryphal books, and is not the whole, perhaps, the work of an impostor of the last century?” In answering this, I shall be guided by the baron von Hammer, who wrote his review of the Desátir before he had seen that of the _Journal des Savans_, but, after having perused the latter, declared that he had nothing to change in his opinion. Although the commentator, to whom the honor of being the inventor of the Mahabadian language is ascribed, follows in the main the ancient text word for word, and substitutes commonly a new for the obsolete form of the term, yet frequent instances occur (some of which baron von Hammer adduces) which prove that the interpreter did not clearly understand the old text, but in place of the true meaning gave his own arbitrary interpretation. The proper names even are not always the same. Besides――and this is most important――the doctrines contained in the Desátir and in the Commentary differ from each other. In the books of the first Mahabadian kings we find the fundamental ideas of the Oriental philosophy, such as it was before its migration from Asia to Europe; but in the commentary we perceive the development of the Aristotelian scholastic, such as it formed itself among the Asiatics, when they had, by means of translations, become acquainted with the Stagirite. We shall revert to this subject hereafter. Whatever it be――the discrepancies between the original text and the interpretation, as they would certainly have been avoided by the author of both, prove that they are the works of two different persons, probably with the interval of a few centuries between them.

The Persian translator and commentator is said to be the fifth Sassan, who lived in the time of the Persian king Khusro-Parviz, a contemporary of the Roman emperor Heraclius, and died only nine years before the destruction of the ancient Persian monarchy, or in the year 643 of our era. It must be presumed that the five Sassans, the first of whom was a contemporary of Alexander, 323 years before Christ, were not held to be immediate successors to each other, but only in the same line of descent; otherwise an interval of 946 years, from Alexander to Parviz, comprehending the reign of thirty-one Arsacides and twenty-two Sassanian princes, would be given to no more than five individuals, which absurdity ought not to be attributed to the commentary of the Desátir. In general, so common is it with Asiatics to deal with names of celebrity as if they were generic names, that it is very frequently impossible to be positive about the true author of a work. There appears in the present case nothing to prevent us from placing the translator and commentator of the Desátir (whether a Sassan or not) in the seventh century of our era.

The translation and commentary of the Desátir are written in what the best judges consider as very pure Persian, though ancient, without any mixture whatever of words of Arabic or Chaldean origin, and conformable to the grammatical system of modern Persian. But when was the latter formed?――As the opinion upon this epoch involves that upon the age of the composition itself, I shall be permitted to take a rather extensive historical view of this part of the question.

Setting aside the Mahabadian kings mentioned in the Desátir and Dabistán, we know that Gilshah, Hoshang, Jamshid (true Persian names) are proclaimed by all Orientalists as founders of the Persian empire and builders of renowned cities in very remote times. This empire comprised in its vast extent different nations, speaking three principal languages, the Zand, Pehlevi, and Parsi. Among these nations were the _Persæ_, “Persians,” properly and distinctively so called. We are informed by Herodotus[55] that there were different races of Persæ, of whom he enumerates eleven. Those who inhabited originally _Fars_, _Farsistan_, _Persis_,[56] a country double the extent of England, and gave their name to the whole empire, certainly spoke their own idiom, the _Parsi_ or _Farsi_. A national language may vary in its forms, but never can be destroyed as long as any part of the nation exits; can we doubt that the Persians who, once the masters of Asia, although afterwards shorn of their power, never ceased to be independent and formidable, preserved their language to our days?

We may consider as remains of the oldest Persian language, the proper and other names of persons, places and things mentioned by the most ancient historians; now, a number of such words, which occur in the Hebrew Bible,[57] in Herodotus, and other Greek authors, are much better explained from modern Persian than from Zand and Pehlevi. In the Armenian language exist words common to the Persian, none common to the Pehlevi;[58] therefore, in very remote times Persian and not Pehlevi was the dominant idiom of the Iranian nations with whom the Armenians were in relation. More positive information is reserved for posterity, when the cuneiform inscriptions upon the monumental rocks and ruins, to be found in all directions within the greatest part of Asia, shall be deciphered by future philologers, not perhaps possessing greater talent, but better means of information from all-revealing time than those of our days, who have already successfully begun the great work――Grotefend, Rask, St. Martin, Burnouf, Lassen, etc.

Let us now take a hasty review of a few principal epochs of the Persian empire, with respect to language, beginning only from that nearest the time, in which Persia was seen and described by Herodotus, Ctesias, and Xenophon, not without reference to the then existing national historical records. Khosru (Cyrus) the Persian King, placed by the Occidentals in the seventh century before our era,[59] having wrested the sceptre from the hands of the Medes, who spoke Pehlevi, naturally produced the ascendancy of his national idiom. This did not sink under his immediate successors, Lohrasp and Gushtasp. Although under the reign of the latter, who received Zardusht at his court in the sixth century B. C.,[60] the Zand might have had great currency, yet it certainly declined after Gushtasp, as his grandson Bahman, the son of Isfendiar, favored the cultivation of the Parsi.[61] This language was perfected in Baktria (the original name of which country is _Bákhter_, “East,” an old Persian word) and in the neighboring Transoxiana; there the towns _Bamian_, the Thebes of the East, and _Balkh_, built by Lohrasp and sanctified by Gushtasp’s famous Pyræum, besides _Merv_ and _Bokhára_, were great seats of Persian arts and sciences. The Parsi, thus refined, was dominant in all the royal residences, which changed according to seasons and circumstances; it was spoken at the court of the Second _Dara_ (Darius Codomanus), and sounds in his own name and that of his daughters _Sitára_ (Statira), “star,” and _Roshana_ (Roxana), “splendor,” whom the unfortunate king resigned with his empire to Alexander.[62] This conqueror, intoxicated with power, endeavored to exterminate the Mobeds, the guardians of the national religion and science; he slew many, but dispersed only the majority. From the death of Alexander (323 B. C.) to the reign of Ardeshir Babegan (Artaxerxes), the founder of the Sassanian dynasty (200 A. D.), a period of more than five centuries is almost a blank in the Persian history; but when the last-mentioned king, the regenerator of the ancient Iranian monarchy, wishing to restore its laws and literature, convoked the Mobeds, he found forty thousand of them before the gate of the fire-temple of Barpa.[63] Ammianus Marcellinus, in the fourth century of our era attests, that the title of king was in _Deri_, “court-language,” yet the Pehlevi was spoken concurrently with it during the reigns of the first twelve Sassanian princes, until it was proscribed by a formal edict of the thirteenth of them, _Bahram gor_, in our fifth century. Nushirvan and Parviz, in the sixth century, were both celebrated for the protection which they granted to arts and sciences. We have on record a school of physic, poetry, rhetoric, dialectics, and abstract sciences, flourishing at Gandi sapor, a town in Khorasan: the Persian must have then been highly cultivated. We are now in the times of Muhammed; were they not _Persian_, those Tales, the charm of which, whether in the original or in the translation, was such, that the Arabian legislator, to counteract it, summoned up the power of his high-sounding heaven-inspired eloquence, and wrote a part of the Koran against them? If he himself had not named the Deri as the purest dialect of the Persian, what other language could we believe he admired for its extreme softness so much as to say, that the Almighty used it when he wished to address the angels in a tone of mildness and beneficence, whilst he reserved the Arabic for command?[64] Such a fact, or such a tradition, presupposes a refined, and therefore long-spoken language. After Muhammed’s death, his fanatic successors attempted to bury under the ruins of the Persian empire even the memory of its ancient religion and language――but they did not succeed: the sacred fire was saved and preserved beyond the Oxus; it was rekindled in Baktria, that ancient hearth of Persian splendor; there poetry and eloquence revived, but could not raise their voices until princes of Persian origin became lieutenants of the Mohammedan khalifs. It was under Nasr, son of Ahmed the Samanian, in the beginning of our tenth century, that RUDIGI rose, the first celebrated new Persian poet, but he found, he did not create the language, more than Homer created Greek, Dante Italian, or Spenser English. A great author, in whom the genius of his nation is concentrated, does no more than aptly collect into a whole the idiom which exists every where in parts, and elicit its pre-existing resources. Thus under his pen the language can appear to spring up with all its beauties――as Minerva, equipped in armour, sprung forth from the head of Jupiter.

Such being the historical indications relative to the Persian language, we cannot participate in the doubts of Silvestre de Sacy, nor find Erskine[65] just in disdaining even to make a comment upon the credibility of the hypothesis “that the Persian language was completely formed in the age of the latter Sassanians.” It would be rather a matter of wonder that the Parsi, related to the most ancient and most cultivated language in the world, should not have been much sooner fitted for the harmonious lays of Ferdusi!――a matter of wonder indeed, that the Persians, who taught the Arabs so much of their religion――heaven and hell, should have remained behind them in the refinement of their idiom!――that they, who could scoff at the _Tazis_ as eaters of lizards, should not have possessed, in the seventh century, a language to contend with that people, who themselves possessed celebrated poets long before Muhammed![66]

It is for ever regrettable that overpowering Muhammedism should have spoiled the original admirable simplicity of one of the softest languages in the world, by the intrusion of the sonorous but harsher words of Arabic, and imposed upon us the heavy tax of learning two languages for understanding one; but, as the translation of the Desátir is free from words of an Arabic or Chaldean origin, should we not fairly conclude, that it was executed before the Muhammedan conquest of Persia? So did Norris, and so Erskine――I can but think――would have done, if his judgment and penetration, usually so right and acute, had not been prepossessed by the idea of an imposture, which he had assumed as proved or self-evident, whilst this was the very point of contestation. Thus, “the very freedom from words of foreign growth, which the learned natives consider as a mark of authenticity, appeared to him the proof of an artificial and fabricated style.”

If even there are some Arabic words to be found in the text and the translation of the Desátir, this affords no fair inference that these works had not been composed before the Arabs conquered Persia, because those words might have come from Pehlevi, in which there is a mixture of Arabic, and there are also Persian words in the Koran; most naturally, as there subsisted from times immemorial relations between Persia and Arabia.

What I have said will, if I am not mistaken, sufficiently justify the conclusion, that the Persian idiom could in the seventh century have attained the regularity and form of the present Persian, such at least, as it appears in the Commentary of the Desátir, not without a very perceptible tincture of obsoleteness.

I need scarce remark that the title _asmáni_, “heavenly,” belongs exclusively to the superstitious admiration with which the Desátir is viewed. Nor are its fifteen books to be taken for sacred works of so many prophets who succeeded each other after such long intervals of time; yet nothing prevents us, as I hope to show, from believing some parts of them very ancient. Neither are these of the same antiquity. Thus, prophecies which are certainly interpolations made after the events, occur in them, not otherwise than in the Indian Puránas, the fundamental parts of which are nevertheless now admitted to be as ancient as the Vedas themselves. We find in the two last books of the Desátir are mentioned: the contest between the Abbasides and the descendants of Ali; the adoption of Muhammedism by almost the totality of Iran; inimical sects, and the power of the Turcomans superseding that of the Arabs; the latter parts must certainly have been composed after the taking of Bagdád by Hulogu in 1258 of our era. The fifteenth book of the Desátir is probably apocryphal.

As to the doctrine of the Desátir, Erskine says:[67] “I consider that the whole of the peculiar doctrines, ascribed to Mahabad and Hoshang, is borrowed from the mystical doctrines of the Persian Súfis, and from the ascetic tenets and practices of the Yogis and Sanyasis, of India who drew many of their opinions from the Vedanta-school.” But this involves the great historical question, concerning the origin of Súfism and the whole Indian philosophy, which is by some (not without foundation) believed to have been spread throughout a great part of Asia. It is quite gratuitous, I may say, to regard them “as having had no existence before the time of Azar Kaivan[68] and his disciples in the reigns of Akbar and Jehanguir, and as having been devised and reduced into form between 200 and 300 years ago in the school of Sipasi-philosophers.” Nor can I admit as better founded the following insinuations of the same ingenious critic: “Nor shall I inquire whether many of the acute metaphysical remarks that abound in the commentary and the general style of argument which it employs have not rather proceeded from the schoolmen of the West, than directly from the Oriental or Aristotelian philosophy.” To this may be answered: It is highly problematic, whether the translator of the Desátir ever knew any schoolman of the West, but it is certain that he, as an Asiatic and a Persian, knew the Oriental philosophy, the fundamentals of which were preserved in the first books of the Desátir, as we have already said; but the commentator could but participate in the modification, which the ancient doctrine had undergone in his age, after its return from the West to the East, in translations of Greek philosophical works into Asiatic languages. Thus, in the Desátir and its commentary――I borrow the words of baron von Hammer:――“We see already germinating the double seed of reason and light, from which sprung up the double tree of rational and ideal philosophy,”[69] which spread its ramifications over the whole world, and lives and flourishes even in our times.

The commentator was no ordinary man: living, as we may believe, in the first half of the seventh century, he possessed the sciences of his learned age; flourishing under the reign of king Khosru Parviz, who professed the ancient Persian religion in his letter to a Roman emperor of the East,[70] and tore to pieces Muhammed’s written invitation to adopt Islam[71]; in this yet unshaken state of national independence, the fifth Sassan preserved pure his creed and style from the influence of the Arabian prophet. The translator and commentator of the Desátir says of himself:[72] “I too have written a celebrated book under the name of _Do giti_, ‘the two worlds’, full of admirable wisdom, which I have derived from the most exalted intelligence, and in the eminent book of the famous prophet, the King of Kings, Jemshid, there is a great deal, concerning the unity which only distinguished Asceties (_Hertasp_) can comprehend, and on the subject of this transcendant knowledge I have also composed a great volume _Pertú están_, ‘the mansion of light,’ which I have adorned by evidence deduced from reason, and by texts from the _Desátir_ and _Avesta_, so that _the soul of every man_ may derive pleasure from it. And it is one of the books of the secrets of the great God.”

This is a most important declaration. The commentator considered the Desátir and the Avesta as sources of delight TO ALL MEN. And he was right. The doctrine of the former work now under consideration is found every where, not denied either by the ancients or moderns; it is the property of mankind. As such, “_it does not belong to any particular tribe or nation_:” in which point, although in quite another sense, we agree with Erskine, but we may dissent from the learned author, when he taxes it to be “a religious or philosophical imposture, which needed the support of a fabricated language.” After careful examination, I must conscientiously declare, I discover no imposture aimed at by any artifice; there was no secret to be concealed; nothing to be disguised; the Mahabadian religion is as open as its temple, the vault of heaven, and as clear as the lights, flaming in their ethereal attitudes; its book is a sort of catechism of Asiatic religion; its prayer a litany of Oriental devotion, in which any man may join his voice.

Thus have I endeavored, to the best of my power, to exhibit faithfully what has hitherto been alleged for and against the authenticity of the book, which is one of the principal authorities of the Dabistán. If the author of this latter work was, as the often-quoted ingenuous author supposes, “in strict intimacy with the sects of enthusiasts by whom the Desátir was venerated, and whose rule it was,” we may so much the more rely upon the truth of his account concerning such a religious association. If he professed the new religion, which the emperor Akbar had endeavored to found, as this was a revival of the ancient Persian religion, we may reasonably presume, that he would have searched, and brought to light writings concerning it which were concealed, neglected, or little known; he would have cautiously scrutinized the authenticity of the documents, and conscientiously respected the sacred sources of that faith, which, after a careful examination of all others, deserved his preference; nothing justifies the supposition, that he would forge any thing himself, or countenance, or not be able to detect, the forgery of others. However this be, Mohsan Fani’s character will be best known by the perusal of his work; after a rapid synopsis of its contents, to which I will now proceed, I shall be permitted to point out, as briefly as possible, some of the merits and defects conspicuous in his composition.

[20] See note, vol. I. p. 20.

[21] Ibid., p. 44.

[22] Calcutta edition, p. 30, line 6.

[23] See vol. I. p. 534.

[24] _Ibid._, p. 65.

[25] M. Eugène Burnouf, to whose most valuable judgment I
had the pleasure to submit the question, prefers the
derivation from _bhásh_, because this word in Zend would be
_wâsh_, as the Zend _w_ represents exactly the Sanscrit
_bh_, which aspiration did not exist in the ancient idiom of
Bactrian Asia. This sagacious philologer hinted at a
comparison with the Persian _usta_, or _awesta_, upon which
in a subsequent note.

[26] See the Persian text of the Dasátir, p. 377.

[27] _Tableau de l’Empire ottoman_, by M. d’Ohson, t. II. p.
70.

[28] _Journal des Savans_, _février_ 1821, p. 74. The
Persian passage which de Sacy quotes, and in which there is
_Destánir_ for _Dasátir_, is taken from the text published
by Gladwin, and not from the printed Calcutta edition.

[29] See Asiatic Journal and Monthly Register for British
India and its Dependencies, vol. VIII., from July to Dec.
1819, p. 357.

[30] The _Desátir_, or sacred writings of the ancient
Persian prophets in the original tongue; with the ancient
Persian version, and commentary of the fifth Sasan;
published by Mulla Firuz Bin-i-Kaus. Bombay, 1818. Mulla
Firuz is supposed to possess the only copy of the Desátir
extant. He allowed sir John Malcolm to take a copy of it,
which, by some accident, was lost by Doctor Leyden――(See
Transact. of the Lit. Soc. of Bombay, pp. 342 and 349).

[31] Mohsan Fani marks the time of his composing the
Dabistan (vol. II. p. 50) to be the year of the Hejira 1055
(A. D. 1645).

[32] See _Journal des Savans_, No. for January, 1821, p. 16.

[33] Lucretius, book V., Transl. of Dr. Creech:
“―― ―― putare aliquem tum nomina distribuisse
Rebus, et inde homines didicisse vocabula prima
Desipere est.”

[34] Richardson’s Dictionary, preface, lxvii.

[35] This man, who never told his true name, was from the
age of fifteen to seventeen a private teacher――then passed
for an Irishman――went to Rome as a pilgrim with a habit
stolen from before an altar where it was lying as a votive
offering of another pilgrim――wandered about in Germany,
Brabant, Flanders――indolent, abject, shameless, covered with
vermin and sores――entered the military service of Holland,
which he left to become waiter in a coffee-house in
Aix-la-Chapelle――enlisted in the troops of the elector of
Cologne. He acted all these parts, with those
above-mentioned, before he was baptised under the name of
George, by a Scotch clergyman, and, having learned English,
passed over to England to be protected by Compton, the
lord-bishop of London. At the expense of the latter, he
studied at Oxford――became a preceptor――chaplain of a
regiment――fell back into indolence, and lived upon
alms.――(See A New and General Dictionary, London, 1798, vol.
XII; and _Vie de plusieurs Personnages célèbres des Temps
anciens et modernes, par C. A. Walckenaer, membre de
l’Institut, tome II._ 1830.)

[36] This change took place in his thirty-second year――he
learned Hebrew and became an honest man, esteemed by Samuel
Johnson; he wrote eleven articles in a well-known work, the
Universal History, and his own Life at the age of
seventy-three years; the latter work was published after his
death, which happened in his eighty-fourth year, in 1763.

[37] See _Notices et Extraits des Manuscrits_, vol. IX. pp.
365-396.

[38] I am here applying to the forger of a language what
Lucretius, in continuation of his above quoted verses (p.
xxx), urges against the belief that a single individual
could ever have been the inventor of human speech.

[39] By Norris, _Asiatic Journal_, vol. IX., November, 1820,
p. 430.

[40] _Journal des Savans_, February, 1821, pp. 69-70.

[41] See Transact. of the Lit. Soc. of Bombay, vol. II.: “On
the Authenticity of the Desátir, with remarks on the Account
of the Mahabadi Religion contained in the Dabistan,” by
William Erskine, esq., p. 360.

[42] The Asiatic Journal and Monthly Register for British
India and its Dependencies, Novemb. 1820, p. 421 _et seq._

[43] The work quoted, p. 360.

[44] The Asiatic Journal, November, 1820, p. 421 _et seq._

[45] An Essay on the best means of ascertaining the
affinities of Oriental languages, by baron W. Humboldt, in
the Transactions of the Royal Asiatic Society of Great
Britain and Ireland, vol. II. part I. p. 213.

[46] Colonel Harriot on the Oriental Origin of the Gypsies.
_Ibid._, 518.

[47] Erskine, _loco cit._, p. 372.

[48] See _Réflexions sur l’Étude des Langues asiatiques,
adressées à sir James Mackintosh_. Bonn, 1832, pp. 51-52.

[49] See Asiatic Researches, vol. VIII. Lond. ed. 8. p. 254.

[50] See _Heidelberger Jahrbücher der Literatar Vom Jänner
te Juni 1823_, Nᵒˢ 6. 12. 13. 18. 20.

[51] See _Journal asiatique, tome XII. juillet 1833_, pp.
24-26.

[52] _Ibidem_, pp. 20-21. Deri was spoken on the other side
of the Oxus, and at the foot of the Paropamisus in Balkh,
Meru, in the Badakhshan, in Bokhara and Bamian. The Pehlevi
was used in Media proper, in the towns of Rai, Hamadan,
Ispahan, Nehawend, and Tabriz, the capital of Azar
bíján.――Beside the Deri and Pehlevi, Persian dictionaries
reckon five other dialects, altogether twelve dialects, of
ancient and modern Persian.

[53] _Tholuck_. _Sufismus, sive Theosophia Pantheistica_, p.
111.

[54] Norris, Asiatic Journal, November, 1820, p. 430.

[55] Clio, lib. I.

[56] In the Bible it is called Paras, or Faras, and reckoned
as extensive as Great and Little Armenia, or as Hungary,
Transylvania, Slavonia, Croatia, and Dalmatia together.――(See
_Gatterer’s Weltgeschichte II^{ter} Theil, Seite 9_.)

[57] In the books of Ezra, Nehemiah, and Esther.

[58] See _Observations sur les Monumens historiques de
l’ancienne Perse, par Étienne Quatremère_. _Journal des
Savans_, _juin et juillet_ 1840, pp. 347-348.

[59] The Orientals place him in the tenth century B. C.

[60] According to Richardson (see the preface of his Dict.,
p. vi), the Farsi was peculiarly cultivated by the great and
learned, above 1200 years before the Muhammedan era, _i. e._
above 600 years B. C., which epoch is commonly assigned to
Gushtasp’s reign.

[61] See Hammer’s _Schöne Redekünste Persiens, Seite 3 et
seq._

[62] Strabo, who flourished in the beginning of the
Christian era, and drew his information mostly from the
historians of Alexander, refers probably to the time of the
Macedonian conquest, when he says (xv. 2, § 8, fol. 724,
edit. Cas.): that the Medians, Persians, Arians, Baktrians,
and Sogdians spoke almost the same language. This probably
was that of the then leading nation, the Persian.

[63] Hammer, _loc. cit._, p. 7.

[64] Works of sir W. Jones, vol. V. p. 426, Transactions of
the Literary Society of Bombay, vol. II. p. 297.

[65] _Loco cit._, p. 363.

[66] See the preface to the most valuable work _Le Divan
d’Amro’lkais_, par le baron Mac Guckin de Slane, Paris,
1837, pp. viii and ix. The learned author confirms that
celebrated Arabian poems existed before the introduction of
the Muhammedan religion, which, for a certain time, averted
the Arabs from the cultivation of poetry and history. We
shall here add (which would have been more appropriately
placed in the note upon Amro’lKais, in vol. III p. 65, and
will correct the same) that this poet (see _loc. cit._, p.
xvi _et seq._) flourished at an epoch anterior to Muhammed,
and died probably before the birth of that extraordinary man.

[67] _Loco citato_, p. 372.

[68] See vol. I. pp. 87 _et seq._

[69] _Heidelberger Jahrbücher, loc. cit. Seite_ 313.

[70] The Dabistán (see Pers. text, Calcutta edit., p. 69,
and English transl., vol. I. p. 145) quotes verses
containing this profession, addressed by Khosru Parviz to a
Roman emperor, whose name, however, is not mentioned. During
the reign of this Persian king, two emperors ruled in the
East, namely, Mauritius, whose daughter Parviz married,
and Heraclius, by whom he was defeated towards the end of
his life. I found it probable, but had no authority to
assert (see vol. I. p. 145, note 2), that the above-stated
profession was made to Mauritius; but those verses by
themselves deserve attention, as they establish the adherence
of Parviz to the religion of Hoshang, in contradiction to
several historians, according to whom he adopted Christianity:
this assertion seems founded upon his great attachment to
the celebrated _Mary_, or _Chirín_, his Christian wife, and
daughter of a Christian emperor, the said Mauritius.

[71] Muhammed, when informed of the ignominious reception
which the Persian king gave to his letter and ambassador,
said: “God will tear his empire, as he tore my letter, to
pieces.”――(Herbelot.)

[72] The Desátir, p. 99.