Flowers from a Persian Garden and Other Papers eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 400 pages of information about Flowers from a Persian Garden and Other Papers.

Flowers from a Persian Garden and Other Papers eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 400 pages of information about Flowers from a Persian Garden and Other Papers.

And again: 

  Ask not a man who his father was, but make trial
  Of his qualities, and then conciliate or reject him accordingly
  For it is no disgrace to new wine, if it only be sweet,
  As to its taste, that it was the juice [or daughter] of sour grapes.

The often-quoted maxim of La Rochefoucauld, that there is something in the misfortunes of our friends which affords us a degree of secret pleasure, is well known to the Persians.  Saadi tells us of a merchant who, having lost a thousand dinars, cautioned his son not to mention the matter to anyone, “in order,” said he, “that we may not suffer two misfortunes—­the loss of our money and the secret satisfaction of our neighbours.”

A generous disposition is thus eloquently recommended:  They asked a wise man, which was preferable, fortitude or liberality, to which he replied:  “He who possesses liberality has no need of fortitude.  It is inscribed on the tomb of Bahram-i-Gur that a liberal hand is preferable to a strong arm.”  “Hatim Tai,” remarks Saadi, “no longer exists, but his exalted name will remain famous for virtue to eternity.[6] Distribute the tithe of your wealth in alms, for when the husbandman lops off the exuberant branches from the vine, it produces an increase of grapes.”

    [6] Hatim was chief of the Arabian tribe of Tai, shortly
        before Muhammed began to promulgate Islam, renowned for
        his extraordinary liberality.

Prodigality, however, is as much to be condemned as judicious liberality is to be lauded.  Saadi gives the following account of a Persian prodigal son, who was not so fortunate in the end as his biblical prototype:  The son of a religious man, who succeeded to an immense fortune by the will of his uncle, became a dissipated and debauched profligate, in so much that he left no heinous crime unpractised, nor was there any intoxicating drug which he had not tasted.  Once I admonished him, saying:  “O my son, wealth is a running stream, and pleasure revolves like a millstone; or, in other words, profuse expense suits him only who has a certain income.  When you have no certain income, be frugal in your expenses, because the sailors have a song, that if the rain does not fall in the mountains, the Tigris will become a dry bed of sand in the course of a year.  Practise wisdom and virtue, and relinquish sensuality, for when your money is spent you will suffer distress and expose yourself to shame."[7] The young man, seduced by music and wine, would not take my advice, but, in opposition to my arguments, said:  “It is contrary to the wisdom of the sages to disturb our present enjoyments by the dread of futurity.  Why should they who possess fortune suffer distress by anticipating sorrow?  Go and be merry, O my enchanting friend!  We ought not to be uneasy to-day for what may happen to-morrow.  How would it become me, who am placed in the uppermost seat of liberality, so that the fame of my bounty

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Flowers from a Persian Garden and Other Papers from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.