In the interpretation of outlandish
phrases, I may refer to the notes
on Ondanique, Nono, Barguerlac,
Argon, Sensin, Keshican, Toscaol,
Bularguchi, Gat-paul,
etc.
Among miscellaneous elucidations,
to the disquisition on the Arbre
Sol or Sec in vol.
i., and to that on Mediaeval Military Engines in
vol. ii.
In a variety of cases it has
been necessary to refer to Eastern
languages for pertinent elucidations
or etymologies. The editor would,
however, be sorry to fall
under the ban of the mediaeval adage:
“Vir
qui docet quod non sapit
Definitur Bestia!”
and may as well reprint here
what was written in the Preface to
Cathay:
I am painfully sensible that in regard to many subjects dealt with in the following pages, nothing can make up for the want of genuine Oriental learning. A fair familiarity with Hindustani for many years, and some reminiscences of elementary Persian, have been useful in their degree; but it is probable that they may sometimes also have led me astray, as such slender lights are apt to do.
TO HENRY YULE.
[Illustration]
Until you raised dead monarchs from the
mould
And built again the domes
of Xanadu,
I lay in evil case, and never
knew
The glamour of that ancient story told
By good Ser Marco in his prison-hold.
But now I sit upon a throne
and view
The Orient at my feet, and
take of you
And Marco tribute from the realms of old.
If I am joyous, deem me not o’er
bold;
If I am grateful, deem me
not untrue;
For you have given me beauties to behold,
Delight to win, and fancies
to pursue,
Fairer than all the jewelry and gold
Of Kublai on his throne in
Cambalu.
E. C. BABER.
20th July, 1884.
MEMOIR OF SIR HENRY YULE.
Henry Yule was the youngest son of Major William Yule, by his first wife, Elizabeth Paterson, and was born at Inveresk, in Midlothian, on 1st May, 1820. He was named after an aunt who, like Miss Ferrier’s immortal heroine, owned a man’s name.
On his father’s side he came of a hardy agricultural stock,[1] improved by a graft from that highly-cultured tree, Rose of Kilravock.[2] Through his mother, a somewhat prosaic person herself, he inherited strains from Huguenot and Highland ancestry. There were recognisable traces of all these elements in Henry Yule, and as was well said by one of his oldest friends: “He was one of those curious racial compounds