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(2) A cicada laughed, and said to a young dove, "Now, when I fly with all my might, 'tis as much as I can do to get from tree to tree. And sometimes I do not reach, but fall to the ground midway. What then can be the use of going up ninety thousand li in order to start for the south?" He who goes to Mang-ts'ang, taking three meals with him, comes back with his stomach as full as when he started. But he who travels a hundred li must grind flour enough for a night's halt. And he who travels a thousand li must supply himself with provisions for three months. Those two little creatures,—what should they know? Small knowledge has not the compass of great knowledge any more than a short year has the length of a long year. How can we tell that this is so? The mushroom of a morning knows not the alternation of day and night. The chrysalis knows not the alternation of spring and autumn. Theirs are short years. But in the State of Ch'u there is a tortoise whose spring and autumn are each of five hundred years' duration. And in former days there was a large tree which had a spring and autumn each of eight thousand years' duration. Yet, P'êng Tsu is still, alas! an object of envy to all. It was on this very subject that the Emperor T'ang spoke to Chi, as follows:—"At the barren north there is a great sea, the Celestial Lake. In it there is a fish, several thousand li in breadth, and I know not how many in length. It is called the Leviathan. There is also a bird, called the Rukh, with a back like Mount T'ai,

(11) He wanders into the boundless desert, Sometimes halting and despairing, sometimes running. He has no lamp wherewith to light himself on his way, He lacks wisdom, so as to boast of being alive, And also half wisdom, so as to assume to be dead? That half wise one became as one utterly dead If you lack perfect wisdom, make yourself as dead Under the shadow of the wise, whose words give life. The fool is neither alive so as to companion with 'Isa,

(60) Long is the night to him who is awake; long is a mile to him who is tired; long is life to the foolish who do not know the true law.

After anecdotes of the man, in the time of 'Omar, who mistook his eyelash for the new moon, of one who stole a snake and got bitten by it, and of 'Isa's foolish disciple who besought the Lord to teach him the spell whereby he raised the dead, comes the following story. A certain Sufi, after a long day's journey, arrived at a monastery, where he put up for the night, and strictly enjoined his servant to groom his ass carefully and give him plenty of litter and fodder. The servant assured him that his minute directions were superfluous, and promised to attend to the ass most carefully; but when his master's back was turned he neglected the ass, and the poor animal remained all night without water or food. Consequently he was weak and unfit to travel next morning, and in spite of the blows and kicks that were showered on him, could not carry his master, but had to be led. The other Sufis who were traveling with his owner thought that the ass was useless, and when they arrived at the place where they halted for the night, they sold the ass to a traveler, and with the proceeds of the sale bought delicate viands and torches, and made a feast. The owner of the ass, who was ignorant of this transaction, shared the feast, and joined in the chorus sung by the others, "The ass is gone, the ass is gone," without attaching any sense to the words, and blindly following their example. Next morning he asked his servant what had become of the ass, and the servant told him it had been sold, adding that he thought he had known it overnight, because he had heard him singing "The ass is gone" along with the other Sufis. In the course of this story there occur anecdotes of God consulting with the angels as to the creation of man, of a king who lost his hawk and found it again in the house of a poor old man, and of Shaikh Ahmad Khizrawiya buying sweetmeats for his creditors.

(12) We may close these illustrations of the deceitfulness of the world with the following short parable. Suppose a ship to arrive at a certain well wooded island. The captain of the ship tells the passengers he will stop a few hours there, and that they can go on shore for a short time, but warns them not to delay too long. Accordingly the passengers disembark and stroll in different directions. The wisest, however, return after a short time, and, finding the ship empty, choose the most comfortable places in it. A second band of the passengers spend a somewhat longer time on the island, admiring the foliage of the trees and listening to the song of the birds. Coming on board, they find the best places in the ship already occupied, and have to content themselves with the less comfortable ones. A third party wander still farther, and, finding some brilliantly coloured stones, carry them back to the ship. Their lateness in coming on board compels them to stow themselves away in the lower parts of the ship, where they find their loads of stones, which by this time have lost all their brilliancy, very much in their way. The last group go so far in their wanderings that they get quite out of reach of the captain's voice calling them to come on board, and at last he has to sail away without them. They wander about in a hopeless condition and finally either perish of hunger or fall a prey to wild beasts.

(23) The caravan is come to be loaded, You run here and there, your mouth parched with heat; The caravan moves on, and night approaches. Your goods lie on the ground in a dangerous road, You cry "O Moslems, who has seen a camel, Which escaped from its stable this morning? To him who shall give me news of my camel I will give a reward of so many dirhems." You go on seeking news of your camel from every one, And every lewd fellow flatters you with a fresh rumor, Saying, "I saw a camel; it went this way;

(3) 'Twixt Lerici and Turbia, the most desert, The most secluded pathway is a stair Easy and open, if compared with that. "Who knoweth now upon which hand the hill Slopes down," my Master said, his footsteps staying, "So that who goeth without wings may mount?" And while he held his eyes upon the ground Examining the nature of the path, And I was looking up around the rock, On the left hand appeared to me a throng Of souls, that moved their feet in our direction, And did not seem to move, they came so slowly. "Lift up thine eyes," I to the Master said; "Behold, on this side, who will give us counsel, If thou of thine own self can have it not." Then he looked at me, and with frank expression Replied: "Let us go there, for they come slowly, And thou be steadfast in thy hope, sweet son." Still was that people as far off from us, After a thousand steps of ours I say, As a good thrower with his hand would reach, When they all crowded unto the hard masses Of the high bank, and motionless stood and close, As he stands still to look who goes in doubt.

(1) When we had crossed the threshold of the door Which the perverted love of souls disuses, Because it makes the crooked way seem straight, Re-echoing I heard it closed again; And if I had turned back mine eyes upon it, What for my failing had been fit excuse? We mounted upward through a rifted rock, Which undulated to this side and that, Even as a wave receding and advancing. "Here it behoves us use a little art," Began my Leader, "to adapt ourselves Now here, now there, to the receding side." And this our footsteps so infrequent made, That sooner had the moon's decreasing disk Regained its bed to sink again to rest, Than we were forth from out that needle's eye; But when we free and in the open were, There where the mountain backward piles itself, I wearied out, and both of us uncertain About our way, we stopped upon a plain More desolate than roads across the deserts. From where its margin borders on the void, To foot of the high bank that ever rises, A human body three times told would measure;

(3) As did my Master down along that border, Bearing me with him on his breast away, As his own son, and not as a companion. Hardly the bed of the ravine below His feet had reached, ere they had reached the hill Right over us; but he was not afraid; For the high Providence, which had ordained To place them ministers of the fifth moat, The power of thence departing took from all. A painted people there below we found, Who went about with footsteps very slow, Weeping and in their semblance tired and vanquished. They had on mantles with the hoods low down Before their eyes, and fashioned of the cut That in Cologne they for the monks are made. Without, they gilded are so that it dazzles; But inwardly all leaden and so heavy That Frederick used to put them on of straw. O everlastingly fatiguing mantle! Again we turned us, still to the left hand Along with them, intent on their sad plaint; But owing to the weight, that weary folk Came on so tardily, that we were new In company at each motion of the haunch.

(619) was fated, among other evils, to devour his own children. But when he had time to reflect, and saw what was in the lot, he began to beat his breast and lament over his choice, forgetting the proclamation of the prophet; for, instead of throwing the blame of his misfortune on himself, he accused chance and the gods, and everything rather than himself. Now he was one of those who came from heaven, and in a former life had dwelt in a well-ordered State, but his virtue was a matter of habit only, and he had no philosophy. And it was true of others who were similarly overtaken, that the greater number of them came from heaven and therefore they had never been schooled by trial, whereas the pilgrims who came from earth having themselves suffered and seen others suffer, were not in a hurry to choose. And owing to this inexperience of theirs, and also because the lot was a chance, many of the souls exchanged a good destiny for an evil or an evil for a good. For if a man had always on his arrival in this world dedicated himself from the first to sound philosophy, and had been moderately fortunate in the number of the lot, he might, as the messenger reported, be happy here, and also his journey to another life and return to this, instead of being rough and underground, would be smooth and heavenly. Most curious, he said, was the spectacle—sad and laughable and strange; for the choice of the souls

(8) Fools dwelling in darkness, wise in their own conceit, and puffed up with vain knowledge, go round and round staggering to and fro, like blind men led by the blind.

(5) 'Fools dwelling in darkness, wise in their own conceit, and puffed up with vain knowledge, go round and round, staggering to and fro, like blind men led by the blind.'

(8) Whoever will seriously contemplate the past eternity during which the world was not in existence, and the future eternity during which it will not be in existence, will see that it is essentially like a journey, in which the stages are represented by years, the leagues by months, the miles by days, and the steps by moments. What words, then, can picture the folly of the man who endeavours to make it his permanent abode, and forms plans ten years ahead regarding things he may never need, seeing that very possibly he may be under the ground in ten days!

(31) I journeyed years and months for love of that Moon, Heedless of the way, absorbed in God. With bare feet I trod upon thorns and flints, Seeing I was bewildered, and beside myself, and senseless. Think not my feet touched the earth, What knows the heart of road and stages? What of distant and near, while it is drunk with love? Distance and nearness are attributes of bodies, You journeyed from the embryo state to rationality Without footsteps or stages or change of place,

An Arab loaded his camel with two sacks, filling one with wheat and the second with sand, in order to balance the first. As he was proceeding on his way he met a certain tradition-monger, who questioned him about the contents of his sacks. On learning that one contained nothing but sand, he pointed out that the object might be attained much better by putting half the wheat in one sack and half in the other. On hearing this, the Arab was so struck by his sagacity that he conceived a great respect for him, and mounted him on his camel. Then he said, "As you possess such great wisdom. I presume that you are a king or a Vazir, or at least a very rich and powerful noble." The theologian, replied, "On the contrary. I am a very poor man; all the riches my learning has brought me are weariness and headaches, and I know not where to look for a loaf of bread." The Arab said, "In that case get, off my camel and go your way, and suffer me to go mine, for I see your learning brings ill luck." The moral of the story is the worthlessness of mere human knowledge, and its inferiority to the divine knowledge proceeding from inspiration. This thesis is further illustrated by an account of the mighty works which were done by the saint Ibrahim bin Adham, through the divine knowledge that God had given him. Ibrahim was originally prince of Balkh, but renounced his kingdom and became a saint. One day he was sitting by the shore mending his cloak, when one of his former subjects passed by and marvelled to see him engaged in such a, mean occupation. The saint at once, by inspired knowledge, read his thoughts, and thus corrected his false impressions. He took the needle with which he was mending, his cloak and cast it into the sea. Then with a loud voice he cried out, "O needle rise again from the midst of the sea and come back again into my hands." Without a moment's delay thousands of fishes rose to the surface of the sea, each bearing in its mouth a golden needle, and cried out, "O Shaikh, take these needles of God!" Ibrahim then turned to the noble, saying, "Is not the kingdom of the heart better than the contemptible earthly kingdom I formerly possessed? What you have just seen is a very trifling sign of my spiritual power as it were, a mere leaf plucked to show the beauty of a garden. You have now caught the scent of this garden, and it ought to attract your soul to the garden itself, for you must know that scents have great influence, e.g., the scent of Joseph's coat, which restored Jacob's sight, and the scents which were loved by the Prophet."

(620) and when he saw it, he said that he would have done the same had his lot been first instead of last, and that he was delighted to have it. And not only did men pass into animals, but I must also mention that there were animals tame and wild who changed into one another and into corresponding human natures—the good into the gentle and the evil into the savage, in all sorts of combinations. All the souls had now chosen their lives, and they went in the order of their choice to Lachesis, who sent with them the genius whom they had severally chosen, to be the guardian of their lives and the fulfiller of the choice: this genius led the souls first to Clotho, and drew them within the revolution of the spindle impelled by her hand, thus ratifying the destiny of each; and then, when they were fastened to this, carried them to Atropos, who spun the threads and made them irreversible, whence without turning round they passed beneath the throne of Necessity; and when they had all passed, they marched on in a scorching heat to the plain of Forgetfulness, which was a barren waste destitute of trees and verdure; and then towards evening they encamped by the river of Unmindfulness, whose water no vessel can hold; of this they were all obliged to drink a certain quantity, and those who were not saved by wisdom drank more than was necessary; and each one as he drank forgot all things.

(1) I have erewhile seen horsemen moving camp, Begin the storming, and their muster make, And sometimes starting off for their escape; Vaunt-couriers have I seen upon your land, O Aretines, and foragers go forth, Tournaments stricken, and the joustings run, Sometimes with trumpets and sometimes with bells, With kettle-drums, and signals of the castles, And with our own, and with outlandish things, But never yet with bagpipe so uncouth Did I see horsemen move, nor infantry, Nor ship by any sign of land or star. We went upon our way with the ten demons; Ah, savage company! but in the church With saints, and in the tavern with the gluttons! Ever upon the pitch was my intent, To see the whole condition of that Bolgia, And of the people who therein were burned. Even as the dolphins, when they make a sign To mariners by arching of the back, That they should counsel take to save their vessel, Thus sometimes, to alleviate his pain, One of the sinners would display his back, And in less time conceal it than it lightens.

(89) And that sheep which led them again ascended to the summit of that rock, but the sheep began to be blinded and to wander from the way which he had showed them, but that sheep wot not thereof.

(8) 1 tell thee for certain, and it is in Earnest; when I was at Jericho, there my beloved Companion opened my Eyes for me, that I saw; and behold, a great Generation of Men and Multitudes of People and Nations were together, one Part were like Beasts, and one Part like Men, and there was Strife between them; and beneath there was the Abyss of Hell, and the Beasts saw not that, but the Men were afraid and would be gone; to which the Devil would not consent, because his Garden had no Doors [open;] Or of the World. but they broke open his Garden, and so he must watch at the Door that they do not run away from him; but the Beasts (which were Men also) they did eat of his Food, and drank of his Drink, and he did nothing to them, because he fattened them for his Slaughter, and there was a continual Enmity between the right Men and the bestial Men.