The Kasîdah of Hâjî Abdû El-Yezdî

8/10/2019 The Kasîdah of Hâjî Abdû El-Yezdî

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The Kasîdah of Hâjî Abdû El-Yezdî or

“Lay of the Higher Law”

“Traslated ad aotated by his fried ad !"!il# $%&%”by

'i(hard $% &"rto

T) THE 'EA*E' The Translator has ventured to entitle a “Lay of the Higher Law” the following composition,

which aims at being in advance of its time; and he has not feared the danger of collision with

such unpleasant forms as the “Higher Culture.” The principles which ustify the name are asfollows!"

The #uthor asserts that Happiness and $isery are e%ually divided and distributed in the world.

He ma&es 'elf(cultivation, with due regard to others, the sole and sufficient obect of human life.

He suggests that the affections, the sympathies, and the “divine gift of )ity” are man*s highest

enoyments.

He advocates suspension of udgment, with a proper suspicion of “+acts, the idlest of

superstitions.”

+inally, although destructive to appearance, he is essentially reconstructive.

+or other details concerning the )oem and the )oet, the curious reader is referred to the end of

the volume.

+. .

-ienna, ov., /001.

THE KA+,*AH

The hour is nigh; the waning 2ueen

wal&s forth to rule the later night;

Crown*d with the spar&le of a 'tar,

and throned on orb of ashen light!

The 3olf(tail/ sweeps the paling 4ast

to leave a deeper gloom behind,

#nd 5awn uprears her shining head,

sighing with semblance of a wind!

The highlands catch yon 6rient gleam,

while purpling still the lowlands lie;#nd pearly mists, the morning(pride,

soar incense(li&e to greet the s&y.



The horses neigh, the camels groan,

the torches gleam, the cressets flare;

The town of canvas falls, and man

with din and dint invadeth air!

The 7olden 7ates swing right and left;

up springs the 'un with flamy brow;

The dew(cloud melts in gush of light; brown 4arth is bathed in morning(glow.

'lowly they wind athwart the wild,

and while young 5ay his anthem swells,

'ad falls upon my yearning ear

the tin&ling of the Camel(bells!

6*er fiery wastes and fro8en wold,

o*er horrid hill and gloomy glen,

The home of grisly beast and 7houl,9

the haunts of wilder, grislier men;"

3ith the brief gladness of the )alms,

that tower and sway o*er seething plain,

+raught with the thoughts of rustling shade,

and welling spring, and rushing rain;

3ith the short solace of the ridge,

by gentle 8ephyrs played upon,

3hose bree8y head and bos&y side

front seas of cooly celadon;"

*Tis theirs to pass with oy and hope,

whose souls shall ever thrill and fill

5reams of the irthplace and the Tomb,

visions of #llah*s Holy Hill.:

ut we #nother shift of scene,

another pang to rac& the heart;

3hy meet we on the bridge of Time

to *change one greeting and to part

3e meet to part; yet as&s my sprite,

)art we to meet #h< is it so

$an*s fancy(made 6mniscience &nows,

who made 6mniscience nought can &now.

3hy must we meet, why must we part,

why must we bear this yo&e of $='T,

3ithout our leave or as&t or given,

by tyrant +ate on victim thrust

That 4ve so gay, so bright, so glad,

this $orn so dim, and sad, and grey;

'trange that life*s >egistrar should write

this day a day, that day a day<

$ine eyes, my brain, my heart, are sad,"

sad is the very core of me;#ll wearies, changes, passes, ends;

alas< the irthday*s inury<



+riends of my youth, a last adieu<

haply some day we meet again;

?et ne*er the self(same men shall meet;

the years shall ma&e us other men!

The light of morn has grown to noon,

has paled with eve, and now farewell<

7o, vanish from my Life as dies the tin&ling of the Camel*s bell.

@n these drear wastes of sea(born land,

these wilds where none may dwell but He,

3hat visionary )asts revive,

what process of the ?ears we see!

7a8ing beyond the thin blue line

that rims the far hori8on(ring,

6ur sadden*d sight why haunt these ghosts,

whence do these spectral shadows spring

3hat endless %uestions veA the thought,

of 3hence and 3hither, 3hen and How

3hat fond and foolish strife to read

the 'cripture writ on human brow;

#s stand we percht on point of Time,

betwiAt the two 4ternities,

3hose awful secrets gathering round

with blac& profound oppress our eyes.

“This gloomy night, these grisly waves,

these winds and whirlpools loud and dread!

3hat rec& they of our wretched plight

who 'afety*s shore so lightly tread”

Thus %uoth the ard of Love and 3ine,B

whose dream of Heaven ne*er could rise

eyond the brimming ausar(cup

and Houris with the white(blac& eyes;

#h me< my race of threescore years

is short, but long enough to pall

$y sense with oyless oys as these,

with Love and Houris, 3ine and all.

#nother boasts he would divorce

old barren >eason from his bed,

#nd wed the -ine(maid in her stead;"

fools who believe a word he said<D

#nd “E5ust thou art to dust returning.*

ne*er was spo&e of human soul”

The 'oofi cries, *tis well for him

that hath such gift to as& its goal.

“#nd this is all, for this we*re born

to weep a little and to die<”



'o sings the shallow bard whose life

still labours at the letter “@.”

“4ar never heard, 4ye never saw

the bliss of those who enter in

$y heavenly &ingdom,” @sF said,

who wailed our sorrows and our sin!

Too much of words or yet too few<

3hat to thy 7odhead easier than

6ne little glimpse of )aradise

to ope the eyes and ears of man

“@ am the Truth< @ am the Truth<”

we hear the 7od(drun& gnostic cry

“The microcosm abides in $4;

4ternal #llah*s nought but @<”

$ansGr was wise, but wiser they

who smote him with the hurlId stones;#nd, though his blood a witness bore,

no wisdom(might could mend his bones.

“4at, drin&, and sport; the rest of life*s

not worth a fillip,” %uoth the ing;

$ethin&s the saying saith too much!

the swine would say the selfsame thing<

Two(footed beasts that browse through life,

by 5eath to serve as soil design*d,

ow prone to 4arth whereof they be,

and there the proper pleasures find!

ut you of finer, nobler, stuff,

ye, whom to Higher leads the High,

3hat binds your hearts in common bond

with creatures of the stall and sty

“@n certain hope of Life(to(come

@ ourney through this shifting scene”

The JFhidK snarls and saunters down

his -ale of Tears with confi*dent mien.

3iser than #mrFn*s 'on0 art thou,

who &en*st so well the world(to(be,The +uture when the )ast is not,

the )resent merest dreamery;

3hat &now*st thou, man, of Life and yet,

forever twiAt the womb, the grave,

Thou pratest of the Coming Life,

of Heav*n and Hell thou fain must rave.

The world is old and thou art young;

the world is large and thou art small;

Cease, atom of a moment*s span,

To hold thyself an #ll(in(#ll<



+ie, fie< you visionary things,

ye motes that dance in sunny glow,

3ho base and build 4ternities

on briefest moment here below;

3ho pass through Life li&ed cagId birds,

the captives of a despot will;

'till wond*ring How and 3hen and 3hy,

and 3hence and 3hither, wond*ring still;

'till wond*ring how the $arvel came

because two coupling mammals chose

To sla&e the thirst of fleshly love,

and thus the “@mmortal eing” rose;

3ond*ring the abe with staring eyes,

perforce compel*d from night to day,

7ript in the giant grasp of Life li&e gale(born dust or wind(wrung spray;

3ho comes imbecile to the world

*mid double danger, groans, and tears;

The toy, the sport, the waif and stray

of passions, error, wrath and fears;

3ho &nows not 3hence he came nor 3hy,

who &ens not 3hither bound and 3hen,

?et such is #llah*s choicest gift,

the blessing dreamt by foolish men;

3ho step by step perforce returns to couthless youth, wan, white and cold,

Lisping again his bro&en words

till all the tale be fully told!

3ond*ring the abe with %uenchId orbs,

an oldster bow*d by burthening years,

How *scaped the s&iff an hundred storms;

how *scaped the thread a thousand shears;

How coming to the +east unbid,

he found the gorgeous table spread

3ith the fair(seeming 'odom(fruit, with stones that bear the shape of bread!

How Life was nought but ray of sun

that clove the dar&ness thic& and blind,

The ravings of the rec&less storm,

the shrie&ing of the rav*ening wind;

How lovely visions *guiled his sleep,

aye fading with the brea& of morn,

Till every sweet became a sour,

till every rose became a thorn;

Till dust and ashes met his eyes

wherever turned their saddened ga8e;



The wrec&s of oys and hopes and loves,

the rubbish of his wasted days;

How every high heroic Thought

that longed to breathe empyrean air,

+ailed of its feathers, fell to earth,

and perisht of a sheer despair;

How, dower*d with heritage of brain,

whose might has split the solar ray,

His rest is grossest coarsest earth,

a crown of gold on brow of clay;

This House whose frame be flesh and bone,

mortar*d with blood and faced with s&in,

The home of sic&ness, dolours, age;

unclean without, impure within!

'ans ray to cheer its inner gloom,

the chambers haunted by the 7host,5ar&ness his name, a cold dumb 'hade

stronger than all the heav*nly host.

This tube, an enigmatic pipe,

whose end was laid before begun,

That lengthens, broadens, shrin&s and brea&s;

"pu88le, machine, automaton;

The first of )ots the )otter made

by Chrysorrhoas* blue(green wave;

$ethin&s @ see him smile to see

what guerdon to the world he gave<

How Life is dim, unreal, vain,

li&e scenes that round the drun&ard reel;

How “eing” meaneth not to be;

to see and hear, smell, taste and feel.

# drop in 6cean*s boundless tide,

unfathom*d waste of agony;

3here millions live their horrid lives

by ma&ing other millions die.

How with a heart that would through love

to =niversal Love aspire,$an woos infernal chance to smite,

as $in*arets draw the Thunder(fire.

How 4arth on 4arth builds tow*er and wall,

to crumble at a touch of Time;

How 4arth on 4arth from 'hMnar(plain

the heights of Heaven fain would climb.

How short this Life, how long withal;

how false its weal, how true its woes,

This fever(fit with paroAysms

to mar& its opening and its close.#h< gay the day with shine of sun,

and bright the bree8e, and blithe the throng



$et on the >iver(ban& to play,

when @ was young, when @ was young!

'uch general oy could never fade;

and yet the chilling whisper came

6ne face had paled, one form had failed;

had fled the ban&, had swum the stream;

'till revellers danced, and sang, and trod

the hither ban& of Time*s deep tide,

'till one by one they left and fared

to the far misty thither side;

#nd now the last hath slipt away

yon drear 5eath(desert to eAplore,

#nd now one )ilgrim worn and lorn

still lingers on the lonely shore.

?es, Life in youth(tide standeth still;

in manhood streameth soft and slow;'ee, as it nears the *abysmal goal

how fleet the waters flash and flow<

#nd 5eaths are twain; the 5eaths we see

drop li&e the leaves in windy +all;

ut ours, our own, are ruined worlds,

a globe collapst, last end of all.

3e live our lives with rogues and fools,

dead and alive, alive and dead,

3e die *twiAt one who feels the pulse

and one who frets and clouds the head!

#nd,"oh, the )ity<"hardly conned

the lesson comes its fatal term;

+ate bids us bundle up our boo&s,

and bear them bod*ily to the worm!

Hardly we learn to wield the blade

before the wrist grows stiff and old;

Hardly we learn to ply the pen

ere Thought and +ancy faint with cold.

Hardly we find the path of love,

to sin& the self, forget the “@,”3hen sad suspicion grips the heart,

when $an, the $an begins to die!

Hardly we scale the wisdom(heights,

and sight the )isgah(scene around,

#nd breathe the breath of heav*enly air,

and hear the 'pheres* harmonious sound;

3hen swift the Camel(rider spans

the howling waste, by ismet sped,

#nd of his $agic 3and a wave

hurries the %uic& to oin the dead./1

How sore the burden, strange the strife;

how full of splendour, wonder, fear;



Life, atom of that @nfinite 'pace

that stretcheth *twiAt the Here and There.

How Thought is imp*otent to divine

the secret which the gods defend,

The 3hy of birth and life and death,

that @sis(veil no hand may rend.

4ternal $orrows ma&e our 5ay;

our Is is aye to be till when

ight closes in; *tis all a dream,

and yet we die,"and then and TH4

#nd still the 3eaver plies his loom,

whose warp and woof is wretched $an

3eaving th* unpattern*d dar& design,

so dar& we doubt it owns a plan.

5ost not, 6 $a&er, blush to hear,

amid the storm of tears and blood,$an say Thy mercy made what is,

and saw the made and said *twas good

The marvel is that man can smile

dreaming his ghostly ghastly dream;(

etter the heedless atomy

that bu88es in the morning beam<

6 the dread pathos of our lives<

how durst thou, #llah, thus to play

3ith Love, #ffection, +riendship, all

that shows the god in mortal clay

ut ah< what *vaileth man to mourn;

shall tears bring forth what smiles ne*er brought;

'hall brooding breed a thought of oy

#h hush the sigh, forget the thought<

'ilence thine immemorial %uest,

contain thy nature*s vain complaint

one heeds, none cares for thee or thine;"

li&e thee how many came and went

Cease, $an, to mourn, to weep, to wail;

enoy thy shining hour of sun;3e dance along 5eath*s icy brin&,

but is the dance less full of fun

.3hat Truths hath gleaned that 'age consumed

by many a moon that waAt and waned

3hat )rophet(strain be his to sing

3hat hath his old 4Aperience gained

There is no 7od, no man(made 7od;

a bigger, stronger, crueller man;lac& phantom of our baby(fears,

ere Thought, the life of Life, began.



>ight %uoth the Hindu )rince of old,//

“#n @shwara for one @ nill,

Th* almighty everlasting 7ood

who cannot *bate th* 4ternal @ll!”

“?our gods may be, what shows they are”

hear China*s )erfect 'age declare;/9

“#nd being, what to us be they who dwell so dar&ly and so far”

“#ll matter hath a birth and death;

*tis made, unmade and made anew;

“3e choose to call the $a&er E7od*!"

such is the JFhid*s owly view.

“?ou changeful finite Creatures strain”

Nreoins the 5rawer of the 3ineO/:

“The di88y depths of @nf*inite )ower

to fathom with your foot of twine”;

“)oor idols of man*s heart and head

with the 5ivine @dea to blend;

“To preach as Eature*s Common Course*

what any hour may shift or end.”

“How shall the 'hown pretend to &en

aught of the 'howman or the 'how

“3hy meanly bargain to believe,

which only means thou ne*er canst &now

“How may the passing ow contain

the standing ow"4ternity"

“#n endless is without a was,

the be and never the to-be?

“3ho made your $a&er @f 'elf(made,

why fare so far to fare the worse

“'ufficeth not a world of worlds,

a self(made chain of universe

“7rant an @dea, )rimal Cause,

the Causing Cause, why crave for more

“3hy strive its depth and breadth to mete,

to trace its wor&, its aid to *implore

“=n&nown, @ncomprehensible,

whate*er you choose to call it, call;

“ut leave it vague as airy space,

dar& in its dar&ness mystical.

“?our childish fears would see& a 'ire,

by the non(human 7od defin*d,

“3hat your five wits may wot ye weet;

what is you please to dub Edesign*d;*

“?ou bring down Heav*en to vulgar 4arth;

your ma&er li&e yourselves you ma&e,“?ou %ua&e to own a reign of Law,

you pray the Law its laws to brea&;



“?ou pray, but hath your thought e*er weighed

how empty vain the prayer must be,

“That begs a boon already giv*en,

or craves a change of law to see

“'ay, $an, deep learnId in the 'cheme

that orders mysteries sublime,

“How came it this was Pesus, that was Pudas from the birth of Time

“How @ the tiger, thou the lamb;

again the 'ecret, prithee, show

“3ho slew the slain, bowman or bolt

or +ate that drave the man, the bow

“$an worships self! his 7od is $an;

the struggling of the mortal mind

“To form its model as *twould be,

the perfect of itself to find.

“The 7od became sage, priest and scribe

where ilus* serpent made the vale;

“# gloomy rahm in glowing @nd,

a neutral something cold and pale!

“#mid the high Chaldean hills

a moulder of the heavenly spheres;

“6n 7uebre steppes the Timeless(7od

who governs by his dual peers!

“@n Hebrew tents the Lord that led

His leprous slaves to fight and ar;

“?ahveh,/B #don or 4lohMm,

the 7od that smites, the $an of 3ar.

“The lovely 7ods of lib*ertine 7reece,

those fair and frail humanities

“3hose homes o*erloo&*d the $iddle 'ea,

where all 4arth*s beauty cradled lies,

“e*er left its blessId bounds, nor sought

the barb*arous climes of barb*arous gods

“3here 6din of the dreary orth

o*er hog and sic&ly mead(cup nods!

“#nd when, at length, E7reat )an is dead*

uprose the loud and dol*orous cry

“# glamour wither*d on the ground,

a splendour faded in the s&y.

“?ea, )an was dead, the a8ar*ene came

and sei8ed his seat beneath the sun,

“The votary of the >iddle(god,

whose one is three and three is one;

“3hose sadd*ening creed of herited 'in

spilt o*er the world its cold grey spell;“@n every vista showed a grave,

and *neath the grave the glare of Hell;



“Till all Life*s )o*esy sin&s to prose;

romance to dull >eal*ity fades;

“4arth*s flush of gladness pales in gloom

and 7od again to man degrades.

“Then the lan& #rab foul with sweat,

the drainer of the camel*s dug,

“7orged with his lee&(green li8ard*s meat, clad in his filthy rag and rug,

“ore his fierce #llah o*er his sands

and bro&e, li&e lava(burst upon

“The realms where reigned pre(#damite ings,

where rose the 7rand ayFnian throne./D

“3ho now of ancient ayomurs,

of JFl or >ustam cares to sing,

“3helmed by the tempest of the tribes

that called the Camel(driver ing

“3here are the crown of ay husraw,

the sceptre of #nGshirwFn,

“The holy grail of high PamshMd,

#frFsiyab*s hall"Canst tell me, man

“7one, gone, where @ and thou must go,

borne by the winnowing wings of 5eath,

“The Horror brooding over life,

and nearer brought with every breath!

“Their fame hath filled the 'even Climes,

they rose and reigned, they fought and fell,

“#s swells and swoons across the wold

the tin&ling of the Camel*s bell.”

.There is no 7ood, there is no ad;

these be the whims of mortal will!

3hat wor&s me weal that call @ Egood,*

what harms and hurts @ hold as Eill!*

They change with place, they shift with race;

and, in the veriest span of Time,

4ach -ice has worn a -irtue*s crown;

all 7ood was banned as 'in or Crime!

Li&e ravelled s&eins they cross and twine,

while this with that connects and blends;

#nd only hi8r / his eye shall see

where one begins, where other ends!

3hat mortal shall consort with hi8r,

when $usF turned in fear to flee

3hat man foresees the flow*er or fruit

whom +ate compels to plant the tree

+or $an*s +ree(will immortal Law,

#nag&Q, ismet, 5es*tiny read



That was, that is, that aye shall be,

'tar, +ortune, +ate, =rd, orn or eed.

“$an*s nat*ural state is 7od*s design;”

such is the silly sage*s theme;

“$an*s primal #ge was #ge of 7old;”

such is the )oet*s wa&ing dream!

5elusion, @gn*orance< Long ere $an

drew upon 4arth his earliest breath

The world was one contin*uous scene

of anguish, torture, prey and 5eath;

3here hideous Theria of the wild

rended their fellows limb by limb;

3here horrid 'aurians of the sea

in waves of blood were wont to swim!

The “fair young 4arth” was only fit

to spawn her frightful monster(brood; ow fiery hot, now icy frore,

now ree&ing wet with steamy flood.

?on glorious 'un, the greater light,

the “ridegroom” of the royal Lyre,

# flaming, boiling, bursting mine;

a grim blac& orb of whirling fire!

That gentle $oon, the lesser light,

the Lover*s lamp, the 'wain*s delight,

# ruined world, a globe burnt out,

a corpse upon the road of night.

3hat rec&t he, say, of 7ood or @ll

who in the hill(hole made his lair,

The blood(fed rav*ening east of prey,

wilder than wildest wolf or bear

How long in $an*s pre(#d*amite days

to feed and swill, to sleep and breed,

3ere the rute(biped*s only life,

a perfect life sans Code or Creed

His choicest garb a shaggy fell,

his choicest tool a fla&e of stone;His best of orn*aments tattoo*d s&in

and holes to hang his bits of bone;

3ho fought for female as for food

when $ays awo&e to warm desire;

#nd such the Lust that grew to Love

when +ancy lent a purer fire.

3here then “Th* 4ternal nature(law

by 7od engraved on human heart”

ehold his simiad sconce and own

the Thing could play no higher part.?et, as long ages rolled, he learnt

from eaver, #pe and #nt to build



'helter for sire and dam and brood,

from blast and bla8e that hurt and &illed;

#nd last came +ire; when scrap of stone

cast on the flame that lit his den,

7ave out the shining ore, and made

the Lord of beasts a Lord of men.

The “moral sense,” your JFhid(phrase,

is but the gift of latest years;

Conscience was born when man had shed

his fur, his tail, his pointed ears.

3hat conscience has the murd*erous $oor,

who slays his guest with felon blow,

'ave sorrow he can slay no more,

what pric& of pen*itence can he &now

?ou cry the “Cruelty of Things”

is myst*ery to your purblind eye,3hich fiAed upon a point in space

the general proect passes by!

+or see< the $ammoth went his ways,

became a mem*ory and a name;

3hile the half(reasoner with the hand/K

survives his ran& and place to claim.

4arth%ua&e and plague, storm, fight and fray,

portents and curses man must deem

'ince he regards his self alone,

nor cares to trace the scope, the scheme;

The 2ua&e that comes in eyelid*s beat

to ruin, level, *gulf and &ill,

uilds up a world for better use,

to general 7ood bends special @ll!

The dreadest sound man*s ear can hear,

the war and rush of stormy 3ind

5epures the stuff of human life,

breeds health and strength for human&ind!

3hat call ye them or 7oods or @lls,

ill(goods, good(ills, a loss, a gain,3hen realms arise and falls a roof;

a world is won, a man is slain

#nd thus the race of eing runs,

till haply in the time to be

4arth shifts her pole and $ushtari/0(men

another falling star shall see!

'hall see it fall and fade from sight,

whence come, where gone no Thought can tell,"

5rin& of yon mirage(stream and chase

the tin&ling of the camel(bell<



.#ll +aith is false, all +aith is true!

Truth is the shattered mirror strown

@n myriad bits; while each believes

his little bit the whole to own.

3hat is the Truth was as&t of yore. >eply all obect Truth is one

#s twain of halves aye ma&es a whole;

the moral Truth for all is none.

?e scantly(learned JFhids learn

from #flatGn and #ristG,/

3hile Truth is real li&e your good!

th* =ntrue, li&e ill, is real too;

#s palace mirror*d in the stream,

as vapour mingled with the s&ies,

'o weaves the brain of mortal man

the tangled web of Truth and Lies.

3hat see we here +orms, nothing more<

+orms fill the brightest, strongest eye,

3e &now not substance; *mid the shades

shadows ourselves we live and die.

“+aith mountains move” @ hear! @ see

the practice of the world unheed

The foolish vaunt, the blatant boast

that serves our vanity to feed.

“+aith stands unmoved”; and why ecause

man*s silly fancies still remain,

#nd will remain till wiser man

the day(dreams of his youth disdain.

“*Tis blessId to believe”; you say!

The saying may be true enow

#nd it can add to Life a light!"

only remains to show us how.

4*en if @ could @ nould believe

your tales and fables stale and trite,

@r&some as twice(sung tune that tires

the dullId ear of drowsy wight.

3ith 7od*s fore&nowledge man*s free will<

what monster(growth of human brain,

3hat powers of light shall ever pierce

this pu88le dense with words inane

-ainly the heart on )rovidence calls,

such aid to see& were hardly wise

+or man must own the pitiless Law

that sways the globe and sevenfold s&ies.

“e ye 7ood oys, go see& for Heav*en,

come pay the priest that holds the &ey;”



'o spa&e, and spea&s, and aye shall spea&

the last to enter Heaven,"he.

#re these the words for men to hear

yet such the Church*s general tongue,

The horseleech(cry so strong so high

her heav*enward )salms and Hymns among.

3hat +aith a merit and a claim,

when with the brain *tis born and bred

7o, fool, thy foolish way and dip

in holy water buriId dead<

?et follow not th* unwisdom(path,

cleave not to this and that disclaim;

elieve in all that man believes;

here all and naught are both the same.

ut is it so How may we &now

Haply this +ate, this Law may be# word, a sound, a breath; at most

the JFhid*s moonstruc& theory.

?es Truth may be, but *tis not Here;

man&ind must see& and find it There,

ut 3here nor @ nor you can tell,

nor aught earth(mother ever bare.

4nough to thin& that Truth can be!

come sit we where the roses glow,

@ndeed he &nows not how to &now

who &nows not also how to *un&now.

.$an hath no 'oul, a state of things,

a no(thing still, a sound, a word

3hich so begets substantial thing

that eye shall see what ear hath heard.

3here was his 'oul the savage beast

which in primeval forests strayed,

3hat shape had it, what dwelling(place,

what part in nature*s plan it played

This 'oul to ree a riddle made;

who wants the vain duality

@s not myself enough for me

what need of “@” within an “@”

3ords, words that gender things< The soul

is a new(comer on the scene;

'ufficeth not the breath of Life

to wor& the matter(born machine

3e &now the 7en*esis of the 'oul;

we trace the 'oul to hour of birth;3e mar& its growth as grew man&ind

to boast himself sole Lord of 4arth!



The race of e*ing from dawn of Life

in an unbro&en course was run;

3hat men are pleased to call their 'ouls

was in the hog and dog begun!

Life is a ladder infinite(stepped,

that hides its rungs from human eyes;

)lanted its foot in chaos(gloom, its head soars high above the s&ies!

o brea& the chain of eing bears;

all things began in unity;

#nd lie the lin&s in regular line

though haply none the se%uence see.

The 7host, embodied natural 5read

of dreary death and foul decay,

egat the 'pirit, 'oul and 'hade

with Hades* pale and wan array.

The 'oul re%uired a greater 'oul,

a 'oul of 'ouls, to rule the host;

Hence spirit(powers and hierarchies,

all gendered by the savage 7host.

ot yours, ye )eoples of the oo&,

these fairy visions fair and fond,

7ot by the gods of hemi(land91

and faring far the seas beyond<

“Th* immortal mind of mortal man<”

we hear yon loud(lunged Jealot cry;

3hose mind but means his sum of thought,

an essence of atomic “@.”

Thought is the wor& of brain and nerve,

in small(s&ulled idiot poor and mean;

@n sic&ness sic&, in sleep asleep,

and dead when 5eath lets drop the scene.

“Tush<” %uoth the JFhid, “well we &en

the teaching of the school abhorr*d

“That ma&eth man automaton,

mind a secretion, soul a word.”

“6f molecules and protoplasm

you matter(mongers prompt to prate;

“6f elly(spec& development

and apes that grew to man*s estate.”

-ain cavil< all that is hath come

either by $ir*acle or by Law;"

3hy waste on this your hate and fear,

why waste on that your love and awe

3hy heap such hatred on a word,

why “)rototype” to type assign,3hy upon matter spirit mass

wants an appendiA your design



@s not the highest honour his

who from the worst hath drawn the best;

$ay not your $a&er ma&e the world

from matter, an it suit His hest

ay more, the sordider the stuff

the cunninger the wor&man*s hand!

Cease, then, your own #lmighty )ower to bind, to bound, to understand.

“>eason and @nstinct<” How we love

to play with words that please our pride;

6ur noble race*s mean descent

by false forged titles see& to hide<

+or “gift divine” @ bid you read

the better wor& of higher brain,

+rom @nstinct diff*ering in degree

as golden mine from leaden vein.

>eason is Life*s sole arbiter,

the magic Laby*rinth*s single clue!

3orlds lie above, beyond its &en;

what crosses it can ne*er be true.

“+ools rush where #ngels fear to tread<”

#ngels and +ools have e%ual claim

To do what ature bids them do,

sans hope of praise, sans fear of blame<

.There is no Heav*en, there is no Hell;

these be the dreams of baby minds;

Tools of the wily +etisheer,

to *fright the fools his cunning blinds.

Learn from the mighty 'pi*rits of old

to set thy foot on Heav*en and Hell;

@n Life to find thy hell and heav*en

as thou abuse or use it well.

'o deemed the doughty Pew who dared

by studied silence low to lay

6rcus and Hades, lands of shades,

the gloomy night of human day.

Hard to the heart is final death!

fain would an 4ns not end in il;

Love made the senti*ment &indly good!

the )riest perverted all to ill.

3hile >eason sternly bids us die,

Love longs for life beyond the grave!

6ur hearts, affections, hopes and fears

for Life(to(be shall ever crave.

Hence came the despot*s darling dream,

a Church to rule and sway the 'tate;



Hence sprang the train of countless griefs

in priestly sway and rule innate.

+or future Life who dares reply

o witness at the bar have we;

'ave what the brother )otsherd tells,"

old tales and novel ugglery.

3ho e*er return*d to teach the Truth,

the things of Heaven and Hell to limn

#nd all we hear is only fit

for grandam(tal& and nursery(hymn.

“Have mercy, man<” the JFhid cries,

“of our best visions rob us not<

“$an&ind a future life must have

to balance life*s une%ual lot.”

“ay,” %uoth the $agian, “*tis not so;

@ draw my wine for one and all,“# cup for this, a score for that,

e*en as his measure*s great or small!

“3ho drin&s one bowl hath scant delight;

to poorest passion he was born;

“3ho drains the score must e*er eApect

to rue the headache of the morn.”

'afely he ogs along the way

which E7olden $ean* the sages call;

3ho scales the brow of frowning #lp

must face full many a slip and fall.

Here IAtremes meet, anointed ings

whose crownId heads uneasy lie,

3hose cup of oy contains no more

than tramps that on the dunghill die.

To fate(doomed 'inner born and bred

for dangling from the gallows(tree;

To 'aint who spends his holy days

in rapt*urous hope his 7od to see;

To all that breathe our upper air

the hands of 5est*iny ever deal,@n fiAed and e%ual parts, their shares

of oy and sorrow, woe and weal.

“How comes it, then, our span of days

in hunting wealth and fame we spend

“3hy strive we Nand all humans striveO

for vain and visionary end”

>eply! man&ind obeys a law

that bids him labour, struggle, strain;

The 'age well &nowing its unworth,

the +ool a(dreaming foolish gain.#nd who, *mid e*en the +ools, but feels

that half the oy is in the race



+or wealth and fame and place, nor sighs

when comes success to crown the chase

#gain! in Hind, ChMn, +ranguestFn

that accident of birth befell,

3ithout our choice, our will, our voice!

+aith is an accident as well.

3hat to the Hindu saith the +ran&!

“5enier of the Laws divine<

“However godly(good thy Life,

Hell is the home for thee and thine.”

“7o strain the draught before *tis drun&,

and learn that breathing every breath,

“3ith every step, with every gest,

something of life thou do*est to death.”

>eplies the Hindu! “3end thy way

for foul and foolish $lenchhas fit;“?our )ariah(par*adise woo and win;

at such dog(Heav*en @ laugh and spit.”

“Cannibals of the Holy Cow<

who ma&e your rav*ening maws the grave

“6f Things with self(same right to live;"

what +iend the filthy license gave”

3hat to the $oslem cries the +ran&

“# polygamic Theist thou<

“+rom an imposter()rophet turn;

Thy stubborn head to Pesus bow.”

>eoins the $oslem! “#llah*s one

tho* with four $oslemahs @ wive,

“6ne(wife(men ye and NdamnId race<O

you split your 7od to Three and +ive.”

The uddhist to Confucians thus!

“Li&e dogs ye live, li&e dogs ye die;

“Content ye rest with wretched earth;

7od, Pudgment, Hell ye fain defy.”

>etorts the Tartar! “'hall @ lend

mine only ready(money Enow,*“+or vain usurious EThen* li&e thine,

avaunt, a triple idiot Thou<”

“3ith this poor life, with this mean world

@ fain complete what in me lies;

“@ strive to perfect this my me;

my sole ambition*s to be wise.”

3hen doctors differ who decides

amid the milliard(headed throng

3ho save the madman dares to cry!

“*Tis @ am right, you all are wrong”“?ou all are right, you all are wrong,”

we hear the careless 'oofi say,



“+or each believes his glimm*ering lamp

to be the gorgeous light of day.”

“Thy faith why false, my faith why true

*tis all the wor& of Thine and $ine,

“The fond and foolish love of self

that ma&es the $ine eAcel the Thine.”

Cease then to mumble rotten bones;

and strive to clothe with flesh and blood

The s&el*eton; and to shape a +orm

that all shall hail as fair and good.

“+or gen*erous youth,” an #rab saith,

“Pahim*s9/ the only genial state;

“7ive us the fire but not the shame

with the sad, sorry blest to mate.”

#nd if your Heav*en and Hell be true,

and +ate that forced me to be born+orce me to Heav*en or Hell"@ go,

and hold +ate*s insolence in scorn.

@ want not this, @ want not that,

already sic& of $e and Thee;

#nd if we*re both transform*d and changed,

what then becomes of Thee and $e

4nough to thin& such things may be!

to say they are not or they are

3ere folly! leave them all to +ate,

nor wage on shadows useless war.

5o what thy manhood bids thee do,

from none but self eApect applause;

He noblest lives and noblest dies

who ma&es and &eeps his self(made laws.

#ll other Life is living 5eath,

a world where none but )hantoms dwell,

# breath, a wind, a sound, a voice,

a tin&ling of the camel(bell.

/How then shall man so order life

that when his tale of years is told,

Li&e sated guest he wend his way;

how shall his even tenour hold

5espite the 3rit that stores the s&ull;

despite the Table and the )en;99

$augre the +ate that plays us down,

her board the world, her pieces men

How when the light and glow of life

waA dim in thic&ly gath*ering gloom,'hall mortal scoff at sting of 5eath,

shall scorn the victory of the Tomb



6ne way, two paths, one end the grave.

This runs athwart the flow*ery plain,

That breasts the bush, the steep, the crag,

in sun and wind and snow and rain!

3ho treads the first must loo& adown,

must deem his life an all in all;

$ust see no heights where man may rise, must sight no depths where man may fall.

#llah in #dam form must view;

adore the $a&er in the made.

Content to bas& in $FyF*s smile,9:

in oys of pain, in lights of shade.

He brea&s the Law, he burns the oo&,

he sends the $oolah bac& to school;

Laughs at the beards of 'aintly men;

and dubs the )rophet dolt and fool,

4mbraces Cypress* taper(waist;

cools feet on wavy breast of rill;

'miles in the argis* love(lorn eyes,

and *oys the dance of 5affodil;

$elts in the saffron light of 5awn

to hear the moaning of the 5ove;

5elights in 'undown*s purpling hues

when ulbul woos the >ose*s love.

+inds mirth and oy in Pamshid(bowl;

toys with the 5aughter of the vine;

#nd bids the beauteous cup(boy say,

“$aster @ bring thee ruby wine<”9B

'ips from the maiden*s lips the dew;

brushes the bloom from virgin brow!"

'uch is his fleshly bliss that strives

the $a&er through the $ade to &now.

@*ve tried them all, @ find them all

so same and tame, so drear, so dry;

$y gorge ariseth at the thought;

@ commune with myself and cry!"

etter the myriad toils and pains

that ma&e the man to manhood true,

This be the rule that guideth life;

these be the laws for me and you!

3ith @gnor*ance wage eternal war,

to &now thy self forever strain,

Thine ignorance of thine ignorance is

thy fiercest foe, thy deadliest bane;

That blunts thy sense, and dulls thy taste;

that deafs thine ears, and blinds thine eyes;Creates the thing that never was,

the Thing that ever is defies.



The finite #tom infinite

that forms thy circle*s centre(dot,

'o full(sufficient for itself,

for other selves eAisting not,

+inds the world mighty as *tis small;

yet must be fought the une%ual fray;

# myriad giants here; and there a pinch of dust, a clod of clay.

?es< maugre all thy dreams of peace

still must the fight unfair be fought;

3here thou mayst learn the noblest lore,

to &now that all we &now is nought.

True to thy ature, to Thy self,

+ame and 5isfame nor hope nor fear!

4nough to thee the small still voice

aye thund*ering in thine inner ear.

+rom self(approval see& applause!

3hat &en not men thou &ennest, thou<

'purn ev*ry idol others raise!

efore thine own @deal bow!

e thine own 5eus! $a&e self free,

liberal as the circling air!

Thy Thought to thee an 4mpire be;

brea& every prison*ing loc& and bar!

5o thou the 6ught to self aye owed;

here all the duties meet and blend,

@n widest sense, withouten care

of what began, for what shall end.

Thus, as thou view the )hantom(forms

which in the misty )ast were thine,

To be again the thing thou wast

with honest pride thou may*st decline;

#nd, glancing down the range of years,

fear not thy future self to see;

>esign*d to life, to death resign*d,

as though the choice were nought to thee.

6n Thought itself feed not thy thought;

nor turn from 'un and Light to ga8e,

#t dar&ling cloisters paved with tombs,

where rot the bones of bygone days!

“4at not thy heart,” the 'ages said;

“nor mourn the )ast, the buried )ast;”

5o what thou dost, be strong, be brave;

and, li&e the 'tar, nor rest nor haste.

)luc& the old woman from thy breast!

e stout in woe, be star& in weal;5o good for 7ood is good to do!

'purn bribe of Heav*en and threat of Hell.



To see& the True, to glad the heart,

such is of life the H@7H4> L#3,

3hose differ*ence is the $an*s degree,

the $an of gold, the $an of straw.

'ee not that something in $an&ind

that rouses hate or scorn or strife,

etter the worm of @8rFil9D

than 5eath that wal&s in form of life.

'urvey thy &ind as 6ne whose wants

in the great Human 3hole unite;9

The Homo rising high from earth

to see& the Heav*ens of Life(in(Light;

#nd hold Humanity one man,

whose universal agony

'till strains and strives to gain the goal,

where agonies shall cease to be.

elieve in all things; none believe;

udge not nor warp by “+acts” the thought;

'ee clear, hear clear, tho* life may seem

$FyF and $irage, 5ream and aught.

#bure the 3hy and see& the How!

the 7od and gods enthroned on high,

#re silent all, are silent still;

nor hear thy voice, nor deign reply.

The ow, that indivis*ible point

which studs the length of inf*inite line

3hose ends are nowhere, is thine all,

the puny all thou callest thine.

)erchance the law some 7iver hath!

Let be< let be< what canst thou &now

# myriad races came and went;

this 'phinA hath seen them come and go.

Haply the Law that rules the world

allows to man the widest range;

#nd haply +ate*s a Theist(word,

subect to human chance and change.

This “@” may find a future Life,

a nobler copy of our own,

3here every riddle shall be ree*d,

where every &nowledge shall be &nown;

3here *twill be man*s to see the whole

of what on 4arth he sees in part;

3here change shall ne*er surcharge the thought;

nor hope defer*d shall hurt the heart.

ut<"faded flow*er and fallen leaf

no more shall dec& the parent tree;#nd man once dropt by Tree of Life

what hope of other life has he



The shatter*d bowl shall &now repair;

the riven lute shall sound once more;

ut who shall mend the clay of man,

the stolen breath to man restore

The shiver*d cloc& again shall stri&e;

the bro&en reed shall pipe again!

ut we, we die, and 5eath is one, the doom of brutes, the doom of men.

Then, if irwFnF9K round our life

with nothingness, *tis haply best;

Thy toils and troubles, want and woe

at length have won their guerdon">est.

Cease, #bdG, cease< Thy song is sung,

nor thin& the gain the singer*s pri8e;

Till men hold @gnor*ance deadly sin,

till man deserves his title “3ise!”90

@n 5ays to come, 5ays slow to dawn,

when 3isdom deigns to dwell with men,

These echoes of a voice long stilled

haply shall wa&e responsive strain!

3end now thy way with brow serene,

fear not thy humble tale to tell!"

The whispers of the 5esert(wind;

the tin&ling of the camel*s bell.

RHebrew! 'hL$S

$oototes+ootnotes

/ The false dawn.

9 The 5emon of the 5esert.

: #rafFt, near $ecca.

B HFfi8 of 'hirF8.

D 6mar(i(ayyFm, the tent(ma&er poet of )ersia.

# famous $ystic stoned for blasphemy.

K The “)hilister” of “respectable” belief.

0 $oses in the oran.

The #bana, >iver of 5amascus./1 5eath in #rabia rides a Camel, not a pale horse.

// uddha.

/9 Confucius.

/: The 'oofi or 7nostic opposed to the JFhid.

/B Pehovah.

/D ayFni"of the race of Cyrus; old 7uebre heroes.

/ 'upposed to be the )rophet 4liah.

/K The 4lephant.

/0 The )lanet Pupiter.

/ )lato and #ristotle.

91 4gypt; am, em, hem Nhierogl.O, in the 5emotic hemi.9/ Pehannum, 7ehenna, Hell.

99 4mblems of ismet, or 5estiny.



9: @llusion.

9B That all the senses, even the ear, may enoy.

9D The #ngel of 5eath.

9 The “7reat $an” of the 4nochites and the $ormons.

9K Comparative annihilation.

90 “Homo sapiens.”

0)TE

H12, A&*3# THE 4A0HFM #bdG has been &nown to me for more years than @ care to record. # native, it is believed, of

5arFbghird in the ?e8d )rovince, he always preferred to style himself 4l(Hichma&Fni, a

facetious “lac&ab” or surname, meaning “6f o(hall, owhere.” He had travelled far and wide

with his eyes open; as appears by his “couplets.” To a natural facility, a &nac& of language

learning, he added a store of desultory various reading; scraps of Chinese and old 4gyptian; ofHebrew and 'yriac; of 'ans&rit and )ra&rit; of 'lav, especially Lithuanian; of Latin and 7ree&,

including >omaic; of erber, the ubian dialect, and of Jend and #&&adian, besides )ersian, his

mother(tongue, and #rabic, the classic of the schools. or was he ignorant of “the "ologies”

and the triumphs of modern scientific discovery. riefly, his memory was well(stored; and he

had every talent save that of using his talents.

ut no one thought that he “woo*d the $use,” to spea& in the style of the last century. 4ven his

intimates were ignorant of the fact that he had a s&eleton in his cupboard, his asMdah or distichs.

He confided to me his secret when we last met in 3estern @ndia"@ am purposely vague in

specifying the place. 3hen so doing he held in hand the long and hoary honours of his chin with

the points toward me, as if to say with the @sland(ing!There is a touch of 3inter in my beard,

# sign the 7ods will guard me from imprudence.

#nd yet the piercing eye, clear as an onyA, seemed to protest against the plea of age. The $'.

was in the vilest “'hi&astah” or running(hand; and, as @ carried it off, the writer declined to ta&e

the trouble of copying out his cacograph.

3e, his old friends, had long addressed HFM #bdG by the sobri%uet of Nabbianâ N“our )rophet”O;

and the reader will see that the )ilgrim has, or believes he has, a message to deliver. He evidently

aspires to preach a faith of his own; an 4astern -ersion of Humanitarianism blended with the

sceptical or, as we now say, the scientific habit of mind. The religion, of which +etishism,

Hinduism and Heathendom; Pudism, Christianity and @slamism are mere fractions, may,methin&s, be accepted by the )hilosopher! it worships with single(minded devotion the Holy

Cause of Truth, of Truth for its own sa&e, not for the goods it may bring; and this belief is

e%ually acceptable to honest ignorance, and to the highest attainments in nature(study.

3ith Confucius, the HFM cultivates what 'trauss has called the “stern common(sense of

man&ind”; while the reign of order is a paragraph of his “Higher Law.” He traces from its rudest

beginnings the all but absolute universality of some perception by man, called “+aith”; that

sensus Numinis which, by inheritance or communication, is now universal eAcept in those who

force themselves to oppose it. #nd he evidently holds this general consent of man&ind to be so

far divine that it primarily discovered for itself, if it did not create, a divinity. He does not cry

with the Christ of ovalis, “Children, you have no father”; and perhaps he would oin >enan ineAclaiming, Un monde sans Dieu est horrible!



ut he recognises the incompatibility of the @nfinite with the 5efinite; of a eing who loves, who

thin&s, who hates; of an Actus purus who is called ealous, wrathful and revengeful, with an

“4ternal that ma&es for righteousness.” @n the presence of the endless contradictions, which

spring from the idea of a )ersonal 5eity, with the 'ynthesis, the Begriff of )rovidence, our

#gnostic ta&es refuge in the sentiment of an un&nown and an un&nowable. He obects to the

countless variety of forms assumed by the perception of a Causa Causans Na misnomerO, and to

that intellectual adoption of general propositions, capable of distinct statement but incapable of proofs, which we term elief.

He loo&s with impartial eye upon the endless variety of systems, maintained with e%ual

confidence and self(sufficiency, by men of e%ual ability and honesty. He is weary of wandering

over the world, and of finding every petty race wedded to its own opinions; claiming the

monopoly of Truth; holding all others to be in error, and raising disputes whose violence,

acerbity and virulence are in inverse ratio to the importance of the disputed matter. # peculiarly

active and acute observation taught him that many of these arring families, especially those of

the same blood, are par in the intellectual processes of perception and reflection; that in the

business of the visible wor&ing world they are confessedly by no means superior to one another;

whereas in abstruse matters of mere +aith, not admitting direct and sensual evidence, one in a

hundred will claim to be right, and immodestly charge the other ninety(nine with being wrong.

Thus he see&s to discover a system which will prove them all right, and all wrong; which will

reconcile their differences; will unite past creeds; will account for the present, and will anticipate

the future with a continuous and uninterrupted development; this, too, by a process, not negative

and distinctive, but, on the contrary, intensely positive and constructive. @ am not called upon to

sit in the seat of udgment; but @ may say that it would be singular if the attempt succeeded. 'uch

a system would be all(comprehensive, because not limited by space, time, or race; its principle

would be eAtensive as $atter itself, and, conse%uently, eternal. $eanwhile he satisfies himself,

"the main point.

'tudents of metaphysics have of late years defined the abuse of their science as “the morphology

of common opinion.” Contemporary investigators, they say, have been too much occupied with

introspection; their labors have become merely physiologico(biographical, and they have greatly

neglected the study of averages. +or, says La >ochefoucauld, Il est plus ais de connotre

l"homme en gnral #ue de connotre un homme en particulier ; and on so wide a subect all

views must be one(sided.

ut this is not the fashion of 4asterns. They have still to treat great %uestions e$ analogiâ

uni%ersi, instead of e$ analogiâ hominis. They must learn the basis of sociology, the philosophic

conviction that man&ind should be studied, not as a congeries of individuals, but as an organic

whole. Hence the &eitgeist , or historical evolution of the collective consciousness of the age,

despises the obsolete opinion that 'ociety, the 'tate, is bound by the same moral duties as the

simple citi8en. Hence, too, it holds that the “spirit of man, being of e%ual and uniform substance,doth usually suppose and feign in nature a greater e%uality and uniformity than is in Truth.”

Christianity and @slamism have been on their trial for the last eighteen and twelve centuries. They

have been ardent in proselyti8ing, yet they embrace only one(tenth and one(twentieth of the

human race. HFM #bdG would account for the tardy and unsatisfactory progress of what their

votaries call “pure truths,” by the innate imperfections of the same. oth propose a reward for

mere belief, and a penalty for simple unbelief; rewards and punishments being, by the way, very

disproportionate. Thus they reduce everything to the scale of a somewhat unrefined egotism; and

their demorali8ing effects become clearer to every progressive age.

HFM #bdG see&s Truth only, truth as far as man, in the present phase of his development, is able

to comprehend it. He disdains to associate utility, li&e acon Nov. 6rg. @. #ph. /9BO, the High)riest of the 4nglish Creed, le gros bon sens, with the lumen siccum ac purum notionum

%erarum. He seems to see the inury inflicted upon the sum of thought by the F posteriori



superstition, the worship of “facts,” and the deification of synthesis. Lastly, came the rec&less

way in which Loc&e “freed philosophy from the incubus of innate ideas.” Li&e Luther and the

leaders of the great +rench >evolution, he bro&e with the )ast; and he threw overboard the whole

cargo of human tradition. The result has been an immense movement of the mind which we love

to call )rogress, when it has often been retrograde; together with a mighty development of

egotism resulting from the pampered sentiment of personality.

The HFM regrets the eAcessive importance attached to a possible future state! he loo&s upon thisas a psychical stimulant, a day dream, whose revulsion and reaction disorder wa&ing life. The

condition may appear humble and prosaic to those eAalted by the fumes of +ancy, by a spiritual

dram(drin&ing, which, li&e the physical, is the pursuit of an ideal happiness. ut he is too wise to

affirm or to deny the eAistence of another world. +or life beyond the grave there is no consensus

of man&ind, no Catholic opinion held semper' et ubi#ue' et ab omnibus. The intellectual faculties

Nperception and reflectionO are mute upon the subect! they bear no testimony to facts; they show

no proof. 4ven the instinctive sense of our &ind is here dumb. 3e may believe what we are

taught! we can &now nothing. He would, therefore, cultivate that receptive mood which,

marching under the shadow of mighty events, leads to the highest of goals,"the development of

Humanity. 3ith him suspension of udgment is a system.

$an has done much during the siAty(eight centuries which represent his history. This assumes

the first 4gyptian 4mpire, following the pre(historic, to begin with . C. D111, and to end with

. C. :9B. @t was the 6ld, as opposed to the $iddle, the ew, and the Low! it contained the

5ynasties from @. to U., and it was the age of the )yramids, at once simple, solid, and grand.

3hen the praiser of the )ast contends that modern civili8ation has improved in nothing upon

Homer and Herodotus, he is apt to forget that every schoolboy is a miracle of learning compared

with the Cave(man and the palolithic race. #nd, as the )ast has been, so shall the +uture be.

The )ilgrim*s view of life is that of the 'oofi, with the usual dash of uddhistic pessimism. The

profound sorrow of eAistence, so often sung by the dreamy 4astern poet, has now passed into the

practical 4uropean mind. 4ven the light +renchman murmurs,"

$oi, moi, cha%ue our courbant plus bas ma tQte

Pe passe"et refroidi sous ce soleil oyeuA,

Pe m*en irai bientVt, au milieu de la fQte,

'ans %ue rien man%ue au monde immense et radieuA.

ut our HFM is not ihilistic in the “no(nothing” sense of Hood*s poem, or, as the #merican

phrases it, “There is nothing new, nothing true, and it don*t signify.” His is a healthy wail over

the shortness, and the miseries of life, because he finds all created things"

$easure the world, with “$e” immense.

He reminds us of 't. #ugustine N$ed. c. 9/O. “-ita hc, vita misera, vita caduca, vita incerta,

vita laboriosa, vita immunda, vita domina malorum, regina superborum, plena miseriis eterroribus . . . 2uam humores tumidant, esc inflant, eunia macerant, oci dissolvunt, tristiti

consumunt; sollicitudo coarctat, securitas hebetat, diviti inflant et actant. )aupertas deicit,

uventus eAtollit, senectus incurvat, importunitas frangit, mror deprimit. 4t his malis omnibus

mors furibunda succedit.” ut for furibunda the )ilgrim would perhaps read benedicta.

3ith Cardinal ewman, one of the glories of our age, HFM #bdG finds “the Light of the world

nothing else than the )rophet*s scroll, full of lamentations and mourning and woe.” @ cannot

refrain from %uoting all this fine passage, if it be only for the sa&e of its lame and shallow

deduction. “To consider the world in its length and breadth, its various history and the many

races of men, their starts, their fortunes, their mutual alienation, their conflicts, and then their

ways, habits, governments, forms of worship; their enterprises, their aimless courses, theirrandom achievements and ac%uirements, the impotent conclusion of long(standing facts, the

to&ens so faint and bro&en of a superintending design, the blind evolution N<O of what turn out to



be great powers or truths, the progress of things as if from unreasoning elements, not towards

final causes; the greatness and littleness of man, his far(reaching aims and short duration. the

curtain hung over his futurity, the disappointments of life, the defeat of good, the success of evil,

physical pain, mental anguish, the prevalence and intensity of sin, the pervading idolatries, the

corruptions, the dreary hopeless irreligion, that condition of the whole race so fearfully yet

eAactly described in the #postle*s words, Ehaving no hope and without 7od in the world*" all

this is a %ision to di(() and appall' and inflicts upon the mind the sense of a profound m)ster)which is absolutel) without human solution.” Hence that admirable writer postulates some

“terrible original calamity”; and thus the hateful doctrine, theologically called “original sin,”

becomes to him almost as certain as that “the world eAists, and as the eAistence of 7od.”

'imilarly the “'chedule of 5octrines” of the most liberal Christian Church insists upon the

human depravity, and the “absolute need of the Holy 'pirit*s agency in man*s regeneration and

sanctification.”

ut what have we here The “original calamity” was either caused by 7od or arose without leave

of 7od, in either case degrading 7od to man. @t is the old dilemma whose horns are the

irreconcilable attributes of goodness and omniscience in the supposed Creator of sin and

suffering. @f the one %uality be predicable, the other cannot be predicable of the same subect. +ar

better and wiser is the essayist*s poetical eAplanation now apparently despised because it was the

fashionable doctrine of the sage bard*s day!"

#ll nature is but art . . .

#ll discord harmony not understood;

#ll partial evil universal good."N4ssay 90W99.O

The )ilgrim holds with 't. #ugustine #bsolute 4vil is impossible because it is always rising up

into good. He considers the theory of a beneficent or maleficent deity a purely sentimental fancy,

contradicted by human reason and the aspect of the world. 4vil is often the active form of good;

as +. 3. ewman says, “so li&ewise is 4vil the revelation of 7ood.” 3ith him all eAistences are

e%ual! so long as they possess the Hindu #gasa, Life(fluid or vital force, it matters not they be,"

+ungus or oa& or worm or man.

3ar, he says, brings about countless individual miseries, but it forwards general progress by

raising the stronger upon the ruins of the wea&er races. 4arth%ua&es and cyclones ravage small

areas; but the former builds up earth for man*s habitation, and the latter renders the atmosphere

fit for him to breathe. Hence he echoes!

"The universal Cause

#cts not by partial but by general laws.

#ncillary to the churchman*s immoral view of “original sin” is the unscientific theory that evil

came into the world with #dam and his seed. Let us as& what was the state of our globe in the

pre(#damite days, when the tyrants of the 4arth, the huge 'aurians and other monsters, lived in perpetual strife, in a destructiveness of which we have now only the feeblest eAamples 3hat is

the actual state of the world of waters, where the only obect of life is death, where the Law of

murder is the Law of 5evelopment

'ome will charge the HFM with irreverence, and hold him a “lieutenant of 'atan who sits in the

chair of pestilence.” ut he is not intentionally irreverent. Li&e men of far higher strain, who

deny divinely the divine, he spea&s the things that others thin& and hide. 3ith the author of

“'upernatural >eligion,” he holds that we “gain infinitely more than we lose in abandoning

belief in the reality of revelation”; and he loo&s forward to the day when “the old tyranny shall

have been bro&en, and when the anarchy of transition shall have passed away.” ut he is an

4astern. 3hen he repeats the 7ree&*s “>emember not to believe,” he means 'trive to learn, to&now, for right ideas lead to right actions. #mong the couplets not translated for this eclogue is!

"



6f all the safest ways of Life

the safest way is still to doubt,

$en win the future world with +aith,

the present world they win without.

This is the 'paniard*s!"

5e las cosas mas seguras, mas seguro es duvidar;a typically modern sentiment of the ra8en #ge of 'cience following the 7olden #ge of

'entiment. ut the )ilgrim continues!"

The sages say! @ tell thee no<

with e%ual faith all +aiths receive;

one more, none less, for 5oubt is 5eath!

they live the most who most believe.

Here, again, is an oriental subtlety; a man who believes in everything e%ually and generally may

be said to believe in nothing. @t is not a simple 4uropean view which ma&es honest 5oubt worth

a do8en of the Creeds. #nd it is in direct opposition to the noted writer who holds that the man of

simple faith is worth ninety(nine of those who hold only to the egotistic interests of their ownindividuality. This dar& saying means Nif it mean anythingO, that the so(called moral faculties of

man, fancy and ideality, must lord it over the perceptive and reflective powers,"a simple

absurdity< @t produced a Turricremata, alias Tor%uemada, who, shedding floods of honest tears,

caused his victims to be burnt alive; and an #nchieta, the Thaumaturgist of ra8il, who beheaded

a converted heretic lest the latter by lapse from grace lose his immortal soul.

ut this vein of speculation, which bigots brand as “5oubt, 5enial, and 5estruction;” this earnest

religious scepticism; this curious in%uiry, “Has the universal tradition any base of fact”; this

craving after the secrets and mysteries of the future, the unseen, the un&nown, is common to all

races and to every age. 4ven amongst the >omans, whose model man in #ugustus* day was

Horace, the philosophic, the epicurean, we find )ropertius as&ing!"

#n ficta in miseras descendit fabula gentes

4t timor haud ultra %uam rogus esse potest

To return! the )ilgrim*s doctrines upon the subect of conscience and repentance will startle those

who do not follow his train of thought!"

ever repent because thy will

with will of +ate be not at one!

Thin&, an thou please, before thou dost,

but never rue the deed when done.

This again is his modified fatalism. He would not accept the boisterous mode of cutting the

7ordian(&not proposed by the noble ritish )hilister"“we &now we*re free and there*s an endon it<” He prefers Lamarc&*s, “The will is, in truth, never free.” He believes man to be a co(

ordinate term of ature*s great progression; a result of the interaction of organism and

environment, wor&ing through cosmic sections of time. He views the human machine, the pipe

of flesh, as depending upon the physical theory of life. 4very corporeal fact and phenomenon

which, li&e the tree, grows from within or without, is a mere product of organi8ation; living

bodies being subect to the natural law governing the lifeless and the inorganic. 3hilst the

religionist assures us that man is not a mere toy of fate, but a free agent responsible to himself,

with wor& to do and duties to perform, the HFM, with many modern schools, holds $ind to be a

word describing a special operation of matter; the faculties generally to be manifestations of

movements in the central nervous system; and every idea, even of the 5eity, to be a certain little

pulsation of a certain little mass of animal pap,"the brain. Thus he would not obect to

relationship with a tailless catarrhine anthropoid ape, descended from a monad or a primal

ascidian.



Hence he virtually says, “@ came into the world without having applied for or having obtained

permission; nay, more, without my leave being as&ed or given. Here @ find myself hand(tied by

conditions, and fettered by laws and circumstances, in ma&ing which my voice had no part.

3hile in the womb @ was an automaton; and death will find me a mere machine. Therefore not @,

but the Law, or if, you please, the Lawgiver, is answerable for all my actions.” Let me here

observe that to the 3estern mind “Law” postulates a Lawgiver; not so to the 4astern, and

especially to the 'oofi, who holds these ideas to be human, unustifiably eAtended to interpretingthe non(human, which men call the 5ivine.

+urther he would say, “@ am an individual N#ui nil habet di%iduiO, a circle touching and

intersecting my neighbours at certain points, but nowhere corresponding, nowhere blending.

)hysically @ am not identical in all points with other men. $orally @ differ from them! in nothing

do the approaches of &nowledge, my five organs of sense Nwith their 'helleyan “interpretation”O,

eAactly resemble those of any other being. *rgo, the effect of the world, of life, of natural

obects, will not in my case be the same as with the beings most resembling me. Thus @ claim the

right of creating or modifying for my own and private use the system which most imports me;

and if the reasonable leave be refused to me, @ ta&e it without leave.

“ut my individuality, however all(sufficient for myself, is an infinitesimal point, an atomsubect in all things to the Law of 'torms called Life. @ feel, @ &now that +ate is. ut @ cannot

&now what is or what is not fated to befall me. Therefore in the pursuit of perfection as an

individual lies my highest, and indeed my only duty, the E@* being duly blended with the E3e.* @

obect to be a Eselfless man,* which to me denotes an inverted moral sense. @ am bound to ta&e

careful thought concerning the conse%uences of every word and deed. 3hen, however, the

+uture has become the )ast, it would be the merest vanity for me to grieve or to repent over that

which was decreed by universal Law.”

The usual obection is that of man*s practice. @t says, “This is well in theory; but how carry it

out +or instance, why would you &ill, or give over to be &illed, the man compelled by +ate to

&ill your father” HFM #bdG replies, “@ do as others do, not because the murder was done by him,

but because the murderer should not be allowed another chance of murdering. He is a tiger who

has tasted blood and who should be shot. @ am convinced that he was a tool in the hands of +ate,

but that will not prevent my ta&ing measures, whether predestined or not, in order to prevent his

being similarly used again.”

#s with repentance so with conscience. Conscience may be a “fear which is the shadow of

ustice”; even as pity is the shadow of love. Though simply a geographical and chronological

accident, which changes with every age of the world, it may deter men from see&ing and

securing the pri8e of successful villainy. ut this incentive to beneficence must be applied to

actions that will be done, not to deeds that have been done.

The HFM, moreover, carefully distinguishes between the wor&ing of fate under a personal 7od,

and under the >eign of Law. @n the former case the contradiction between the fore&nowledge of a

Creator, and the free(will of a Creature, is direct, palpable, absolute. 3e might as well tal& of

blac&(whiteness and of white(blac&ness. # hundred generations of divines have never been able

to ree the riddle; a million will fail. The difficulty is insurmountable to the Theist whose

#lmighty is perforce 6mniscient, and as 6mniscient, )rescient. ut it disappears when we

convert the )erson into Law, or a settled order of events; subect, moreover, to certain eAceptions

fiAed and immutable, but at present un&nown to man. The difference is essential as that between

the penal code with its narrow forbiddal, and the broad commandment which is a guide rather

than a tas&(master.

Thus, too, the belief in fiAed Law, versus arbitrary will, modifies the HFM*s opinions concerning

the pursuit of happiness. $an&ind, das rastlose Ursachenthier , is born to be on the wholee%ually happy and miserable. The highest organisms, the fine porcelain of our family, enoy the



most and suffer the most! they have a capacity for rising to the empyrean of pleasure and for

plunging deep into the swift(flowing river of woe and pain. Thus 5ante N@nf. vi. /1O!"

"tua scien8a

Che vuol, %uanto la cosa I piX perfetta

)iX senta *l bene, e cosi la doglien8a.

'o uddhism declares that eAistence in itself implies effort, pain and sorrow; and, the higher thecreature, the more it suffers. The common clay enoys little and suffers little. 'um up the whole

and distribute the mass! the result will be an average; and the beggar is, on the whole, happy as

the prince. 3hy, then, as&s the obector, does man ever strive and struggle to change, to rise; a

struggle which involves the idea of improving his condition The HFM answers, “ecause such is

the Law under which man is born! it may be fierce as famine, cruel as the grave, but man must

obey it with blind obedience.” He does not enter into the %uestion whether life is worth living,

whether man should elect to be born. ?et his 4astern pessimism, which contrasts so sharply with

the optimism of the 3est, re(echoes the lines!

"a life,

3ith large results so little rife,

Though bearable seems hardly worthThis pomp of words, this pain of birth.

Life, whatever may be its conse%uence, is built upon a basis of sorrow. Literature, the voice of

humanity, and the verdict of man&ind proclaim that all eAistence is a state of sadness. The

“physicians of the 'oul” would save her melancholy from degenerating into despair by doses of

steadfast belief in the presence of 7od, in the assurance of @mmortality, and in visions of the final

victory of good. 3ere HFM #bdG a mere Theologist, he would add that 'in, not the possibility of

revolt, but the revolt itself against conscience, is the primary form of evil, because it produces

error, moral and intellectual. This man, who omits to read the Conscience(law, however it may

differ from the 'ociety(law, is guilty of negligence. That man, who obscures the light of ature

with sophistries, becomes incapable of discerning his own truths. @n both cases error, deliberatelyadopted, is succeeded by suffering which, we are told, comes in ustice and benevolence as a

warning, a remedy, and a chastisement.

ut the )ilgrim is dissatisfied with the idea that evil originates in the individual actions of free

agents, ourselves and others. This doctrine fails to account for its characteristics,"essentiality

and universality. That creatures endowed with the mere possibility of liberty should not always

choose the 7ood appears natural. ut that of the milliards of human beings who have inhabited

the 4arth, not one should have been found invariably to choose 7ood, proves how insufficient is

the solution. Hence no one believes in the eAistence of the complete man under the present state

of things. The HFM reects all popular and mythical eAplanation by the +all of “#dam,” the innate

depravity of human nature, and the absolute perfection of certain @ncarnations, which argues

their divinity. He can only wail over the prevalence of evil, assume its foundation to be error, and

purpose to abate it by unrooting that @gnorance which bears and feeds it.

His “eschatology,” li&e that of the 'oofis generally, is vague and shadowy. He may lean towards

the doctrine of $arc #urelius, “The unripe grape, the ripe and the dried! all things are changes

not into nothing, but into that which is not at present.” This is one of the monstruosa opinionum

portenta mentioned by the U@Uth 7eneral Council, alias the +irst Council of the -atican. ut he

only accepts it with a limitation. He cleaves to the ethical, not to the intellectual, worship of

“ature,” which moderns define to be an “unscientific and imaginary synonym for the sum total

of observed phenomena.” Conse%uently he holds to the “dar& and degrading doctrines of the

$aterialist,” the “Hylotheist”; in opposition to the spiritualist, a distinction far more mar&ed in

the 3est than in the 4ast. 4urope draws a hard, dry line between 'pirit and $atter! #sia doesnot.



#mong us the @dealist obects to the $aterialists that the latter cannot agree upon fundamental

points; that they cannot define what is an atom; that they cannot account for the transformation

of physical action and molecular motion into consciousness; and %ice %ersâ, that they cannot say

what matter is; and, lastly, that er&eley and his school have proved the eAistence of spirit while

denying that of matter.

The $aterialists reply that the want of agreement shows only a study insufficiently advanced;

that man cannot describe an atom, because he is still an infant in science, yet there is no reasonwhy his mature manhood should not pass through error and incapacity to truth and &nowledge;

that consciousness becomes a property of matter when certain conditions are present; that Hyle

NR7ree&! hylaeSO or $atter may be provisionally defined as “phenomena with a substructure of

their own, transcendental and eternal, subect to the action, direct or indirect, of the five senses,

whilst its properties present themselves in three states, the solid, the li%uid, and the gaseous.” To

casuistical er&eley they prefer the common sense of man&ind. They as& the idealist and the

spiritualist why they cannot find names for themselves without borrowing from a “dar& and

degraded” school; why the former must call himself after his eye N ideinO; the latter after his

breath N spiritusO Thus the HFM twits them with affiAing their own limitations to their own

#lmighty )ower, and, as 'ocrates said, with bringing down Heaven to the mar&et(place.

$odern thought tends more and more to reect crude idealism and to support the monistic theory,

the double aspect, the transfigured realism. @t discusses the ature of Things in Themselves. To

the %uestion, is there anything outside of us which corresponds with our sensations that is to

say, is the whole world simply “@,” they reply that obviously there is a something else; and that

this something else produces the brain(disturbance which is called sensation. @nstinct orders us to

do something; >eason Nthe balance of facultiesO directs; and the strongest motive controls.

$odern 'cience, by the discovery of >adiant $atter, a fourth condition, seems to conciliate the

two schools. “La dYcouverte d*un %uatriIme Ytat de la matiIre,” says a >eviewer, “c*est la porte

ouverte Z l*infini de ses transformations; c*est l*homme invisible et impalpable de mQme possible

sans cesser d*Qtre substantiel; c*est le monde des esprits entrant sans absurditY dans la domaine

des hypothIses scientifi%ues; c*est la possibilitY pour le matYrialiste de croire Z la vie d*outretombe, sans renoncer au substratum matYriel %u*il croit nYcessaire au maintien de

l*individualitY.”

3ith HFM #bdG the soul is not material, for that would be a contradiction of terms. He regards it,

with many moderns, as a state of things, not a thing; a convenient word denoting the sense of

personality, of individual identity. @n its ghostly signification he discovers an artificial dogma

which could hardly belong to the brutal savages of the 'tone #ge. He finds it in the funereal

boo&s of ancient 4gypt, whence probably it passed to the Jendavesta and the -edas. @n the

Hebrew )entateuch, of which part is still attributed to $oses, it is un&nown, or, rather, it is

deliberately ignored by the author or authors. The early Christians could not agree upon the

subect; 6rigen advocated the pre(eAistence of men*s souls, supposing them to have been allcreated at one time and successively embodied. 6thers ma&e 'pirit born with the hour of birth!

and so forth.

ut the brain(action or, if you so phrase it, the mind, is not confined to the reasoning faculties;

nor can we afford to ignore the sentiments, the affections which are, perhaps, the most potent

realities of life. Their loud affirmative voice contrasts strongly with the titubant accents of the

intellect. They seem to demand a future life, even, a state of rewards and punishments from the

$a&er of the world, the +rtolano *terno,9 the )otter of the 4ast, the 3atchma&er of the 3est.

They protest against the idea of annihilation. They revolt at the notion of eternal parting from

parents, &insmen and friends. ?et the dogma of a future life is by no means catholic and

universal. The #nglo(4uropean race apparently cannot eAist without it, and we have lately heard

of the “#ryan 'oul(land.” 6n the other hand many of the uddhist and even the rahman'chools preach irwFna Ncomparative non(eAistenceO and )arinirwFna Nabsolute nothingnessO.

$oreover, the great Turanian family, actually occupying all 4astern #sia, has ever ignored it; and



the 911,111,111 of Chinese Confucians, the mass of the nation, protest emphatically against the

mainstay of the western creeds, because it “unfits men for the business and duty of life by fiAing

their speculations on an un&nown world.” #nd even its votaries, in all ages, races and faiths,

cannot deny that the neAt world is a copy, more or less ideali8ed, of the present; and that it lac&s

a single particular savouring of originality. @t is in fact a mere continuation; and the continuation

is “not proven.”

@t is most hard to be a man;

and the )ilgrim*s sole consolation is in self(cultivation, and in the pleasures of the affections.

This sympathy may be an indirect self(love, a reflection of the light of egotism! still it is so

transferred as to imply a different system of convictions. @t re%uires a different name! to call

benevolence “self(love” is to ma&e the fruit or flower not only depend upon a root for

development Nwhich is trueO, but the very root itself Nwhich is falseO. #nd, finally, his ideal is of

the highest! his praise is reserved for!

"Lives

Lived in obedience to the inner law

3hich cannot alter.

$ootote9 The 4ternal 7ardener! so the old inscription saying!"

locatus est in

Homo damnatus est in horto

humatus est in

renatus est in

0)TE # few words concerning the asMdah itself. 6ur HFM begins with a mise-en-sc,ne; and ta&es

leave of the Caravan setting out for $ecca. He sees the “3olf*s tail” N Dum-i-gurg O, the R7ree&!

ly&augYsS, or wolf(gleam, the 5iluculum, the Jodiacal dawn(light, the first faint brushes of

white radiating from below the 4astern hori8on. @t is accompanied by the morning(breath N Dam-

i-ubhO, the current of air, almost imperceptible eAcept by the increase of cold, which $oslem

physiologists suppose to be the early prayer offered by ature to the +irst Cause. The 7houl(i(

iyFbFn N5esert(5emonO is evidently the personification of man*s fears and of the dangers that

surround travelling in the wilds. The “wold(where(none(save(He N#llahO(can(dwell” is a great

and terrible wilderness N Dasht-i-lâ-siwâ .uO; and #llah*s Holy Hill is #rafFt, near $ecca, which

the Caravan reaches after passing through $edina. The first section ends with a sore lament that

the “meetings of this world ta&e place upon the highway of 'eparation”; and the original alsohas!"

The chill of sorrow numbs my thought!

methin&s @ hear the passing &nell;

#s dies across yon thin blue line

the tin&ling of the Camel(bell.

The neAt section %uotes the various aspects under which Life appeared to the wise and foolish

teachers of humanity. +irst comes Hafi8, whose well(&nown lines are %uoted beginning with

'hab(i(tFrM& o bMm(i(mau, etc. HGr is the plural of #hwar, in full #hwar el(#yn, a maid whose

eyes are intensely white where they should be white, and blac& elsewhere! hence our silly

“Houries.” +ollows =mar(i(hayyFm, who spirituali8ed Tasawwof, or 'ooffeism, even as the'oofis N7nosticsO spirituali8ed $oslem )uritanism. The verses alluded to are!"



?ou &now, my friends, with what a brave carouse

@ made a second marriage in my house,

5ivorced old barren >eason from my bed

#nd too& the 5aughter of the -ine to spouse.

N't. 1, $r. +it8gerald*s translation.O

Here “3ine” is used in its mystic sense of entranced Love for the 'oul of 'ouls. =mar was hated

and feared because he spo&e boldly when his brethren the 'oofis dealt in innuendoes. # third%uotation has been trained into a li&eness of the “Hymn of Life,” despite the commonplace and

the na%rante %ulgarit which characteri8e the pseudo('chiller(#nglo(#merican 'chool. The

same has been done to the words of @sF NPesusO; for the author, who is well(read in the @ngMl

N4vangelO, evidently intended the allusion. $ansur el(HallF Nthe Cotton(CleanerO was stoned for

crudely uttering the )antheistic dogma Ana "l .a// N@ am the Truth, i0e0, 7odO, wa la)sa fi-

1ubbat il" Allah Nand within my coat is nought but 7odO. His blood traced on the ground the first(

%uoted sentence. Lastly, there is a %uotation from “'ardanapalus, son of #nacyndaraAes,” etc.!

here R7ree&! paM8eS may mean sport; but the conteAt determines the &ind of sport intended. The

JFhid is the literal believer in the letter of the Law, opposed to the 'oofi, who believes in its

spirit! hence the former is called a JFhiri NoutsiderO, and the latter a Ftini, an insider. $oses is

%uoted because he ignored future rewards and punishments. #s regards the “two 4ternities,”

)ersian and #rab metaphysicians split 4ternity, i0e0, the negation of Time, into two halves, A(al

NbeginninglessnessO and Abad NendlessnessO; both being mere words, gatherings of letters with a

subective significance. @n 4nglish we use “4ternal” N[viternus, age(long, life(longO as loosely,

by applying it to three distinct ideas; N/O the habitual, in popular parlance; N9O the eAempt from

duration; and N:O the everlasting, which embraces all duration. “6mniscience($a&er” is the old

>oman sceptic*s .omo fecit Deos.

The neAt section is one long wail over the contradictions, the mysteries, the dar& end, the infinite

sorrowfulness of all eAistence, and the arcanum of grief which, Luther said, underlies all life. #s

with 4uripides “to live is to die, to die is to live.” HFM #bdG borrows the Hindu idea of the

human body. “@t is a mansion,” says $enu, “with bones for its beams and rafters; with nervesand tendons for cords; with muscles and blood for cement; with s&in for its outer covering; filled

with no sweet perfume, but loaded with impurities; a mansion infested by age and sorrow; the

seat of malady; harassed with pains; haunted with the %uality of dar&ness NTama(gunaO, and

incapable of standing.” The )ot and )otter began with the ancient 4gyptians. “'itting as a potter

at the wheel, Cneph Nat )hilO moulds clay, and gives the spirit of life to the nostrils of 6siris.”

Hence the 7enesitic “breath.” Then we meet him in the -edas, the eing “by whom the fictile

vase is formed; the clay out of which it is fabricated.” 3e find him neAt in Peremiah*s “#rise and

go down unto the )otter*s house,” etc. NAviii. 9O, and lastly in >omans NiA. 91O, “Hath not the

potter power over the clay” o wonder that the first Hand who moulded the man(mud is a lieu

commun in 4astern thought. The “waste of agony” is uddhism, or 'chopenhauerism pure and

simple, @ have moulded “4arth on 4arth” upon “'eint ?sidre”*s well(&nown rhymes N#.5. /BB1O! "

4rthe out of 4rthe is wondirli wrou8t,

4rthe out of 4rthe hath gete a dignity of nou8t,

4rthe upon 4rthe hath sett all his thou8t

How that 4rthe upon 4rthe may be his brou8t, etc.

The “Camel(rider,” suggests 6ssian, “yet a few years and the blast of the desert comes.” The

dromedary was chosen as 5eath*s vehicle by the #rabs, probably because it bears the edouin*s

corpse to the distant burial(ground, where he will lie among his &ith and &in. The end of this

section reminds us of!"

How poor, how rich; how abect, how august,

How complicate, how wonderful is $an<



The HFM now passes to the results of his long and anAious thoughts! @ have purposely twisted his

eAordium into an echo of $ilton!"

Till old eAperience doth attain

To something of prophetic strain.

He boldly declares that there is no 7od as man has created his Creator. Here he is at one with

modern thought!"“4n gYnYral les croyants font le 5ieu comme ils sont euA(mQmes,” Nsays P. P.>ousseau, “Confessions,” @. O! “les bons le font bon! les mYchants le font mYchant! les dYvots

haineuA et bilieuA, ne voient %ue l*enfer, parce %u*ils voudraient damner tout le monde; les Fmes

aimantes et douces n*y croient guIre; et l*un des Ytonnements dont e ne reviens pas est de voir le

bon +YnYlon en parler dans son TYlYma%ue comme s*il y croyoit tout de bon! mais *espIre %u*il

mentoit alors; car enfin %uel%ue vYridi%ue %u*on soit, il faut bien mentir %uel%uefois %uand on est

YvQ%ue.” “$an depicts himself in his gods,” says 'chiller. Hence the Naturgott , the deity of all

ancient peoples, and with which every system began, allowed and approved of actions distinctly

immoral, often diabolical. elief became morali8ed only when the conscience of the community,

and with it of the individual items, began aspiring to its golden age,")erfection. “5ieu est le

superlatif, dont le positif est l*homme,” says Carl -ogt; meaning, that the popular idea of a

numen is that of a magnified and non(natural man.He then %uotes his authorities. uddha, whom the Catholic Church converted to 'aint Posaphat,

refused to recogni8e @shwara Nthe deityO, on account of the mystery of the “cruelty of things.”

'chopenhauer, $iss Cobbe*s model pessimist, who at the humblest distance represents uddha

in the world of 3estern thought, found the vision of man*s unhappiness, irrespective of his

actions, so overpowering that he concluded the 'upreme 3ill to be malevolent, “heartless,

cowardly, and arrogant.” Confucius, the “Throneless &ing, more powerful than all &ings,” denied

a personal deity. The 4picurean idea rules the China of the present day. “7od is great, but he

lives too far off,” say the Turanian 'antFls in #ryan @ndia; and this is the general language of

man in the Turanian 4ast.

HFM #bdG evidently holds that idolatry begins with a personal deity. #nd let us note that thelatter is deliberately denied by the “Thirty(nine #rticles.” 3ith them 7od is “a eing without

)arts NpersonalityO or )assions.” He professes a vague #gnosticism, and attributes popular faith

to the fact that Timor fecit 5eos; “every religion being, without eAception, the child of fear and

ignorance” NCarl -ogtO. He now spea&s as the “5rawer of the 3ine,” the “#ncient Taverner,” the

“6ld $agus,” the “)atron of the $ughFn or $agians”; all titles applied to the 'oofi as opposed

to the JFhid. His “idols” are the eidola NillusionsO of acon, “having their foundations in the very

constitution of man,” and therefore appropriately called fabul2. That “ature*s Common

Course” is subect to various interpretation, may be easily proved. #ristotle was as great a

subverter as #leAander; but the %uasi(prophetical 'tagyrite of the 5ar& #ges, who ruled the

world till the end of the thirteenth century, became the “twice eAecrable” of $artin Luther; and

was finally abolished by 7alileo and ewton. Here @ have eAcised two stan8as. The first is!"

Theories for truths, fable for fact;

system for science veA the thought

Life*s one great lesson you despise"

to &now that all we &now is nought.

This is in fact!"

3ell didst thou say, #thena*s noblest son,

The most we &now is nothing can be &nown.

The neAt is!"

4ssence and substance, se%uence, cause, beginning, ending, space and time,



These be the toys of manhood*s mind,

at once ridiculous and sublime.

He is not the only one who so regards “bothering Time and 'pace.” # late definition of the

“infinitely great,” vi8., that the idea arises from denying form to any figure; of the “infinitely

small,” from refusing magnitude to any figure, is a fair specimen of the “dismal science”"

metaphysics.

#nother omitted stan8a reads!"

How canst thou, )henomen< pretend

the oumenon to mete and span

'ay which were easier probed and proved,

#bsolute eing or mortal man

6ne would thin& that he had read ant on the “nowable and the =n&nowable,” or had heard of

the ?an&ee lady, who could “differentiate between the +inite and the @nfinite.” @t is a common(

place of the age, in the 3est as well as the 4ast, that 'cience is confined to phenomena, and

cannot reach the oumena, the things themselves. This is the scholastic realism, the “residuum

of a bad metaphysic,” which deforms the system of Comte. 3ith all its pretensions, it simplymeans that there are, or can be conceived, things in themselves N i0e0, unrelated to thoughtO; that

we &now them to eAist; and, at the same time, that we cannot &now what they are. ut who dares

say “cannot” 3ho can measure man*s wor& when he shall be as superior to our present selves

as we are to the Cave(man of past time

The “Chain of =niverse” alludes to the Pain idea that the whole, consisting of intellectual as well

as of natural principles, eAisted from all eternity; and that it has been subect to endless

revolutions, whose causes are the inherent powers of nature, intellectual as well as physical,

without the intervention of a deity. ut the )oet ridicules the “non(human,” i0e0, the not(

ourselves, the negation of ourselves and conse%uently a non(eAistence. $ost 4asterns confuse

the contradictories, in which one term stands for something, and the other for nothing Ne0g0,

ourselves and not(ourselvesO, with the contraries Ne0g0, rich and not(rich \ poorO, in which bothterms eApress a something. 'o the positive(negative “infinite” is not the complement of “finite,”

but its negation. The 3estern man derides the process by ma&ing “not(horse” the complementary

entity of “horse.” The )ilgrim ends with the favourite 'oofi tenet that the five NsiAO senses are

the doors of all human &nowledge, and that no form of man, incarnation of the deity, prophet,

apostle or sage, has ever produced an idea not conceived within his brain by the sole operation of

these vulgar material agents. 4vidently he is neither spiritualist nor idealist.

He then proceeds to show that man depicts himself in his 7od, and that “7od is the racial

eApression”; a pedagogue on the ile, an abstraction in @ndia, and an astrologer in Chalda;

where #braham, says erosus NPosephus, #nt. @. K, ] 9, and @@. , ] 9O was “s&ilful in the celestial

science.” He notices the #&Frana(JamFn Nendless TimeO of the 7uebres, and the wor&ing dual,Hormu8d and #hriman. He brands the 7od of the Hebrews with pugnacity and cruelty. He has

heard of the beautiful creations of 7ree& fancy which, not attributing a moral nature to the deity,

included Theology in )hysics; and which, li&e )rofessor Tyndall, seemed to consider all matter

everywhere alive. 3e have adopted a very different =nitarianism; Theology, with its one

Creator; )antheism with its “one 'pirit*s plastic stress”; and 'cience with its one 4nergy. He is

hard upon Christianity and its “trinal 7od”! @ have not softened his eApression NR#rabicS \ a

riddleO, although it may offend readers. There is nothing more enigmatical to the $oslem mind

than Christian Trinitarianism! all other obections they can get over, not this. or is he any lover

of @slamism, which, li&e Christianity, has its ascetic Hebraism and its Hellenic hedonism; with

the world of thought moving between these two eAtremes. The former, defined as predominant or

eAclusive care for the practice of right, is represented by 'emitic and #rab influence, orFnicand HadMsic. The latter, the religion of humanity, a passion for life and light, for culture and

intelligence; for art, poetry and science, is represented in @slamism by the fondly and impiously(



cherished memory of the old 7uebre &ings and heroes, beauties, bards and sages. Hence the

mention of JFl and his son >ostam; of Cyrus and of the PFm(i(PamshMd, which may be translated

either grail NcupO or mirror! it showed the whole world within its rim; and hence it was called

PFm(i(PehFn(numF Nuniverse(eAposingO. The contemptuous eApressions about the diet of camel*s

mil& and the meat of the 'usmFr, or green li8ard, are evidently %uoted from +irdausi*s famous

lines beginning!"

#rab(rF be(FM rasMd*est &Fr.

The HFM is severe upon those who ma&e of the 5eity a hwFn(i(yaghmF Nor tray of plunderO as

the )ersians phrase it. He loo&s upon the shepherds as men,

"3ho rob the sheep themselves to clothe.

'o 'chopenhauer NLeben, etc., by 3ilhelm 7ewinnerO furiously shows how the “4nglish nation

ought to treat that set of hypocrites, imposters and money(graspers, the clergy, that annually

devours ̂ :,D11,111.”

The HFM broadly asserts that there is no 7ood and no 4vil in the absolute sense as man has made

them. Here he is one with )ope!"

#nd spite of pride, in erring nature*s spite6ne truth is clear"whatever is, is right.

=nfortunately the converse is ust as true!"whatever is, is wrong. hi8r is the 4liah who

pu88led $ilman. He represents the 'oofi, the Ftini, while $usF N$osesO is the JFhid, the

JFhiri; and the strange adventures of the twain, invented by the Pews, have been appropriated by

the $oslems. He derides the +reewill of man; and, li&e 5iderot, he detects “pantaloon in a

prelate, a satyr in a president, a pig in a priest, an ostrich in a minister, and a goose in a chief

cler&.” He holds to +ortune, the R7ree&! T_AaeS of #lcman, which is, R7ree&! 4unom`as te &a

)eithoGs adelphZ &a )romathe`as thugtaerS,"Chance, the sister of 6rder and Trust, and the

daughter of +orethought. The 'candinavian 'pinners of +ate were =rd Nthe 3as, the )astO,

-erdandi Nthe ecoming, or )resentO, and '&uld Nthe To(be, or +utureO. He alludes to )lato, whomade the 5emiourgos create the worlds by the Logos Nthe Hebrew 5abarO or Creative 3ord,

through the [ons. These R7ree&! #wnesS of the $ystics were spiritual emanations from

R7ree&! #wnS, lit. a wave of influA, an age, period, or day; hence the Latin vum, and the

3elsh #wen, the stream of inspiration falling upon a bard. asilides, the 4gypto(Christian, made

the Creator evolve seven [ons or )teromata NfulnessesO; from two of whom, 3isdom and

)ower, proceeded the :D degrees of #ngels. #ll were subect to a )rince of Heaven, called

#braAas, who was himself under guidance of the chief [on, 3isdom. 6thers represent the first

Cause to have produced an [on or )ure @ntelligence; the first a second, and so forth till the

tenth. This was material enough to affect Hyle, which thereby assumed a spiritual form. Thus the

two incompatibles combined in the 'cheme of Creation.

He denies the three ages of the uddhists! the wholly happy; the happy miAed with misery, and

the miserable tinged with happiness,"the present. The Joroastrians had four, each of :,111

years. @n the first, Hormu8d, the good(god, ruled alone; then #hriman, the bad(god, began to rule

subserviently! in the third both ruled e%ually; and in the last, now current, #hriman has gained

the day.

#gainst the popular idea that man has caused the misery of this world, he cites the ages, when

the 6ld >ed 'andstone bred gigantic cannibal fishes; when the 6olites produced the mighty

reptile tyrants of air, earth, and sea; and when the monsters of the 4ocene and $iocene periods

shoo& the ground with their ponderous tread. #nd the world of waters is still a hideous scene of

cruelty, carnage, and destruction.

He declares Conscience to be a geographical and chronological accident. Thus he answers the

modern philosopher whose soul was overwhelmed by the marvel and the awe of two things, “the

starry heaven above and the moral law within.” He ma&es the latter sense a development of the



gregarious and social instincts; and so travellers have observed that the moral is the last step in

mental progress. His $oors are the savage 5an&ali and other negroid tribes, who offer a cup of

mil& with one hand and stab with the other. He translates literally the @ndian word HFthM Nan

elephantO, the animal with the HFth Nhand, or trun&O. +inally he alludes to the age of active

volcanoes, the present, which is merely temporary, the shifting of the )ole, and the spectacle to

be seen from $ushtari, or the planet Pupiter.

The HFM again as&s the old, old %uestion, 3hat is Truth #nd he answers himself, after thefashion of the wise 4mperor of China, “Truth hath not an unchanging name.” # modern 4nglish

writer says! “@ have long been convinced by the eAperience of my life, as a pioneer of various

heterodoAies, which are rapidly becoming orthodoAies, that nearly all truth is temperamental to

us, or given in the affections and intuitions; and that discussion and in%uiry do little more than

feed temperament.” 6ur poet seems to mean that the )erceptions, when they perceive truly,

convey obective truth, which is universal; whereas the >eflectives and the 'entiments, the

wor&ing of the moral region, or the middle lobe of the phrenologists, supplies only subective

truth, personal and individual. Thus to one man the aAiom, +pes irritamenta malorum, represents

a distinct fact; while another holds wealth to be an incentive for good. 4vidently both are right,

according to their lights.

HFM #bdG cites )lato and #ristotle, as usual with 4astern songsters, who delight in $anti&

NlogicO. Here he appears to mean that a false proposition is as real a proposition as one that is

true. “+aith moves mountains” and “$anet immota fides” are evidently %uotations. He derides

the teaching of the “+irst Council of the -atican” Ncap. v.O, “all the faithful are little children

listening to the voice of 'aint )eter,” who is the “)rince of the #postles.” He glances at the fancy

of certain modern physicists, “devotion is a definite molecular change in the convolution of grey

pulp.” He notices with contumely the riddle of which $ilton spea&s so glibly, where the

5ialoguists,

"reasoned high

6f providence, fore&nowledge, will and fate,

+iAed fate, free will, fore&nowledge absolute.

@n opposition to the orthodoA $ohammedan tenets which ma&e $an*s soul his percipient 4go,

an entity, a unity, the 'oofi considers it a fancy, opposed to body, which is a fact; at most a state

of things, not a thing; a consensus of faculties whereof our frames are but the phenomena. This is

not contrary to 7enesitic legend. The Hebrew >uach and #rabic >uh, now perverted to mean

soul or spirit, simply signify wind or breath, the outward and visible sign of life. Their later

schools are even more eAplicit. “+or that which befalls man befalls beasts; as the one dies, so

does the other; they have all one death; all go unto one place” N4ccles. iii. /O. ut the modern

soul, a nothing, a string of negations, a negative in chief, is thus described in the $ahFbhFrat! “@t

is indivisible, inconceivable, inconceptible! it is eternal, universal, permanent, immovable! it is

invisible and unalterable.” Hence the modern spiritualism which, reecting materialism, can useonly material language.

These, says the HFM, are mere sounds. He would not assert “-erba gignunt verba,” but “-erba

gignunt res,” a step further. The idea is acon*s “idola fori, omnium molestissima,” the twofold

illusions of language; either the names of things that have no eAistence in fact, or the names of

things whose idea is confused and ill(defined.

He derives the 'oul(idea from the “savage ghost” which 5r. Pohnson defined to be a “&ind of

shadowy being.” He ustly remar&s that it arose NperhapsO in 4gypt; and was not invented by the

“)eople of the oo&.” y this term $oslems denote Pews and Christians who have a recogni8ed

revelation, while their ignorance refuses it to 7uebres, Hindus, and Confucians.

He evidently holds to the doctrine of progress. 3ith him protoplasm is the ?liastron, the )rima

$ateries. 6ur word matter is derived from the 'ans&rit R'ans&ritS NmFtrFO, which, however,

signifies properly the invisible type of visible matter; in modern language, the substance distinct



from the sum of its physical and chemical properties. Thus, $FtrF eAists only in thought, and is

not recogni8able by the action of the five senses. His “Chain of eing” reminds us of )rof.

HuAley*s )edigree of the Horse, 6rohippus, $esohippus, $eiohippus, )rotohippus, )leiohippus,

and 4%uus. He has evidently heard of modern biology, or Hylo8oism, which holds its %uarter(

million species of living beings, animal and vegetable, to be progressive modifications of one

great fundamental unity, an unity of so(called “mental faculties” as well as of bodily structure.

#nd this is the elly(spec&. He scoffs at the popular idea that man is the great central figure roundwhich all things gyrate li&e marionettes; in fact, the anthropocentric era of 5raper, which, strange

to say, lives by the side of the telescope and the microscope. #s man is of recent origin, and may

end at an early epoch of the macrocosm, so before his birth all things revolved round nothing,

and may continue to do so after his death.

The HFM, who elsewhere denounces “compound ignorance,” holds that all evil comes from error;

and that all &nowledge has been developed by overthrowing error, the ordinary channel of human

thought. He ends this section with a great truth. There are things which human >eason or @nstinct

matured, in its undeveloped state, cannot master; but >eason is a Law to itself. Therefore we are

not bound to believe, or to attempt belief in, any thing which is contrary or contradictory to

>eason. Here he is diametrically opposed to >ome, who says, “5o not appeal to History; that is

private udgment. 5o not appeal to Holy 3rit; that is heresy. 5o not appeal to >eason; that is

>ationalism.”

He holds with the )atriarchs of Hebrew Holy 3rit, that the present life is all(sufficient for an

intellectual Nnot a sentimentalO being; and, therefore, that there is no want of a Heaven or a Hell.

3ith far more contradiction the 3estern poet sings!"

Hell hath no limits, nor is circumscribed

@n one self(place; but when we are in hell,

#nd where hell is there must we ever be,

#nd, to be short, when all this world dissolves,

#nd every creature shall be purified,

#ll places shall be hell which are not heaven.

+or what want is there of a Hell when all are pure He enlarges upon the ancient uddhist

theory, that Happiness and $isery are e%ually distributed among men and beasts; some enoy

much and suffer much; others the reverse. Hence 5iderot declares, “'ober passions produce only

the commonplace . . . the man of moderate passion lives and dies li&e a brute.” #nd again we

have the half truth!"

That the mar& of ran& in nature

@s capacity for pain.

The latter implies an e%ual capacity for pleasure, and thus the balance is &ept.

HFM #bdG then proceeds to show that +aith is an accident of birth. 6ne of his omitted distichssays!"

>ace ma&es religion; true< but aye

upon the $a&er acts the made,

# finite 7od, and infinite sin,

in lieu of raising man, degrade.

@n a manner of dialogue he introduces the various races each fighting to establish its own belief.

The +ran& NChristianO abuses the Hindu, who retorts that he is of $lenchha, miAed or impure,

blood, a term applied to all non(Hindus. The same is done by a8arene and $ohammedan; by

the Confucian, who believes in nothing, and by the 'oofi, who naturally has the last word. The

association of the -irgin $ary and 't. Poseph with the Trinity, in the >oman and 7ree&Churches, ma&es many $oslems conclude that Christians believe not in three but in five

)ersons. 'o an 4nglishman writes of the early +athers, “They not only said that : \ /, and that /



\ :! they professed to eAplain how that curious arithmetical combination had been brought about.

The @ndivisible had been divided, and yet was not divided! it was divisible, and yet it was

indivisible; blac& was white and white was blac&; and yet there were not two colours but one

colour; and whoever did not believe it would be damned.” The #rab %uotation runs in the

original!"

Ahsanu "l-3a/âni l" il-4atâ "l-5ehannamu

The best of places for Nthe generousO youth is 7ehenna.

7ehenna, alias Pahim, being the fiery place of eternal punishment. #nd the second saying, Al6

nâr wa lâ "l-"Ar "“+ire Nof HellO rather than 'hame,”"is e%ually condemned by the oranist.

The 7ustF&hi NinsolenceO of +ate is the eApression of =mar(i(hayyam N't. AAAO!"

3hat, without as&ing hither hurried whence?

#nd, without as&ing whither hurried hence<

6h many a cup of this forbidden wine

$ust drown the memory of that insolence.

'oofistically, the word means “the co%uetry of the beloved one,” the divin particula aur. #nd

the section ends with )ope*s!" He can*t be wrong whose life is in the right.

5)05L6+)0Here the HFM ends his practical study of man&ind. The image of 5estiny playing with men as

pieces is a view common amongst 4asterns. His idea of wisdom is once more )ope*s!"

#nd all our &nowledge is ourselves to &now.

" N4ssay @-. :0.O

>egret, i0e0, repentance, was one of the forty(two deadly sins of the #ncient 4gyptians. “Thou

shalt not consume thy heart,” says the >itual of the 5ead, the negative ustification of the soul or

ghost NLepsius “#lteste TeAte des Todtenbuchs”O. 3e have borrowed competitive eAamination

from the Chinese; and, in these morbid days of wea& introspection and retrospection, we might

learn wisdom from the sturdy old hemites. 3hen he sings “#bure the 3hy and see& the How,”

he refers to the old 'cholastic difference of the Demonstratio propter #uid Nwhy is a thingO, as

opposed to Demonstratio #uia Ni0e0 that a thing isO. The “great $an” shall end with becoming

deathless, as 'ha&espeare says in his noble sonnet!"

#nd 5eath once dead, there*s no more dying then<

Li&e the great )agans, the HFM holds that man was born good, while the Christian, “tormented bythe things divine,” cleaves to the comforting doctrine of innate sinfulness. Hence the universal

tenet, that man should do good in order to gain by it here or hereafter; the “enlightened

selfishness,” that says, #ct well and get compound interest in a future state. The allusion to the

“Theist(word” apparently means that the votaries of a personal 5eity must believe in the

absolute fore&nowledge of the 6mniscient in particulars as in generals. The >ule of Law

emancipates man; and its eAceptions are the gaps left by his ignorance. The wail over the fallen

flower, etc., reminds us of the )ulambal NLamentationsO of the #nti(rahminical writer, “)athira(

7iriyFr.” The allusion to $FyF is from 5Fs abMr!"

$FyF mare, na man mare, mar mar gayF, sarMr.

@llusion dies, the mind dies not though dead and gone

the flesh.



irwFna, @ have said, is partial eAtinction by being merged in the 'upreme, not to be confounded

with )ari(nirwFna or absolute annihilation. @n the former also, dying gives birth to a new being,

the embodiment of /arma NdeedsO, good and evil, done in the countless ages of transmigration.

Here ends my share of the wor&. 6n the whole it has been considerable. @ have omitted, as has

been seen, sundry stan8as, and @ have changed the order of others. The teAt has nowhere been

translated verbatim; in fact, a familiar 4uropean turn has been given to many sentiments which

were udged too 6riental. #s the metre adopted by HFM #bdG was the ahr TawMl Nlong verseO, @thought it advisable to preserve that peculiarity, and to fringe it with the rough, unobtrusive

rhyme of the original.

-ive, vale%ue<

Documents

The Kasîdah of Hâjî Abdû El-Yezdî