No More Learning

And besides
this, he arranged girdles and rings and a rich and beautiful coro-
net, and everything that a newly married bride should demand.
On the day settled for the wedding, Walter, about the third
hour, mounted his horse, as did all those who had come to honor
him, and having arranged everything conveniently, said, "Gen-
tlemen, it is time to go to take the bride;" and starting with
his company he arrived at the little villa, and going to the house
of the father of the girl, and finding her returning in great
haste with water from the spring, in order to go with the other
women to see the bride of Walter, he called her by name,- that
is, Griselda,- and asked her where her father was, to which she
modestly replied, "My lord, he is in the house. " Then Walter,
dismounting and commanding his men that they should wait for
them, went along into the little house, where he found her father,
whose name was Giannucoli, and said to him, "I have come to
marry Griselda, but I wish to learn certain things in your pres-
ence. »
He then asked her if, should he take her for his wife,
she would do her best to please him, and at nothing that he
should do or say would she trouble herself, and if she would
be obedient, and many such-like questions, to all of which she
-


## p. 2109 (#307) ###########################################

GIOVANNI BOCCACCIO
2109
replied "yes. »
Then Walter took her by the hand, and in the
presence of all his company and all the other persons had her
stripped naked, and calling for the dresses which he had had
made, immediately had her dressed and shod, and on her hair,
disheveled as it was, had the crown put; and all this being done
while everybody marveled, Walter said: "Gentlemen, this is
she whom I intend shall be my wife if she wishes me for hus-
band;" and then, turning to her, who stood by herself abashed
and confused, said to her, "Griselda, will you take me for your
husband? " To which Griselda replied, "Yes, my lord;" and he
said, "I desire her for my wife, and in the presence of the
assembly to marry her;" and mounting her on a palfrey he led
her, honorably accompanied, to his house. There the marriage
ceremonies were fine and great, and the festivities were not less
than if he had married the daughter of the king of France.
It seemed as if the young bride, in changing her vestments,
changed her mind and her manners. She was, as we have said,
in figure and face beautiful; and as she was beautiful she became
so attractive, so delightful, and so accomplished, that she did not
seem to be the daughter of Giannucoli the keeper of sheep, but
of some noble lord, which made every man who had known her
astonished; and besides this, she was so obedient to her husband
and so ready in service that he was most contented and de-
lighted; and similarly, toward the subjects of her husband she was
so gracious and so kind that there was no one who did not love
her more than himself; and gentlemen honored her with the
best good-will, and all prayed for her welfare and her health and
advancement. Whereupon they who had been accustomed to say
that Walter had done a foolish thing in marrying her, now said
that he was the wisest and the most far-seeing man in the world,
because no other than he would have been able to see her great
virtue hidden under the poor rags of a peasant's costume.
In
a short time, not only in his own dominions but everywhere, she
knew so well how to comport herself that she made the people
talk of his worth and of his good conduct, and to turn to the
contrary anything that was said against her husband on account
of his having married her.
She had not long dwelt with Walter when she bore a daugh-
ter, for which Walter made great festivities; but a little after-
wards, a new idea coming into his mind, he wished with long
experience and with intolerable proofs to try her patience. First


## p. 2110 (#308) ###########################################

2110
GIOVANNI BOCCACCIO
he began to annoy her with words, pretending to be disturbed,
and saying that his men were very discontented with her low
condition, and especially when they saw that she had children;
and of the daughter, that she was born most unfortunately; and
he did nothing but grumble. But the lady, hearing these words,
without changing countenance or her demeanor in any way, said,
"My lord, do with me what you think your honor and your
comfort demand, and I shall be satisfied with everything, as I
know that I am less than they, and that I was not worthy of this
honor to which you in your courtesy called me. "
This reply
pleased Walter much, knowing that she was not in any arrogance
raised on account of the honor which he or others had done her.
A little while afterwards, having often repeated to his wife
that his subjects could not endure this daughter born of her, he
instructed one of his servants and sent him to her, to whom
with sorrowful face he said, "My lady, if I do not wish to die,
I am obliged to do what my lord commands me; he has com-
manded that I should take your daughter and that I—” and
here he stopped. The lady, seeing the face of the servant and
hearing the words that he said, and the words said by her
husband, bethinking herself, understood that this man had been.
ordered to kill the child; upon which, immediately taking her
from the cradle, kissing her, and placing her as if in great sor-
row to her heart, without changing countenance she placed her
in the arms of the servant and said, "Take her and do exactly
what your and my lord has imposed on you to do, but do not
leave her so that the beasts and the birds shall devour her,
unless he should have commanded you that. " The servant hav-
ing taken the child and having repeated to Walter what his
wife had said, he, marveling at her constancy, sent him with
her to Bologna to one of his relatives, beseeching him that with-
out ever saying whose daughter she might be, he should care-
fully rear her and teach her good manners. It happened that
the lady again in due time bore a son, who was very dear to
Walter. But not being satisfied with what he had done, with
greater wounds he pierced his wife, and with a countenance of
feigned vexation one day he said to her, "My lady, since you
have borne this male child I have in no way been able to live
with my people, so bitterly do they regret that a grandchild of
Giannucoli should after me remain their lord; and I make no
question that if I do not wish to be deposed, it will be necessary


## p. 2111 (#309) ###########################################

GIOVANNI BOCCACCIO
2III
to do what I did before, and in the end leave you and take
another wife. " The lady with patience heard him, and only
replied, "My lord! think of your own content, and do your own
pleasure, and have no thought of me; because nothing is so
agreeable to me as to see you satisfied. " A little after, Walter,
in the same manner as he had sent for the daughter, sent for
the son, and in the same way feigned to have ordered it to
be killed, and sent him to nurse in Bologna as he had sent the
daughter. On account of which thing the lady behaved no
otherwise and said no other word than she had done for the
daughter. At this Walter marveled greatly, and declared to
himself that no other woman could have done what she did;
and had it not been that he found her most affectionate to her
children, as he saw her to be, he would have believed that she
could only do so because she did not care for them, although he
knew her to be very prudent. His subjects, believing that he
had had the child killed, blamed him greatly and considered him
a most cruel man, and had great compassion for the lady, who,
with the women who came to condole with her on the death of
her children, never said other thing than that that pleased her
which pleased her lord who had begotten them.
But many years having passed since the birth of the daugh-
ter, it seemed time to Walter to make the last proof of her
patience; and so he said to many of his people that in no way
could he endure any longer to have Griselda for his wife, and
that he recognized that he had done badly and like a boy when
he took her for wife, and that on that account he intended to
apply to the Pope for a dispensation that he might take another
wife and leave Griselda. On which account he was much re-
proved by very good men, to which he replied in no other wise
than that it was convenient that he should do so. The lady,
hearing these things, and seeing that it was necessary for her to
look forward to returning to her father's house, and perhaps to
watch the sheep as she had in other times done, and to see that
another should have him to whom she wished nothing but good,
suffered greatly in her own mind; but also, as with the other
injuries which she had endured from fortune, so with a firm
countenance she disposed herself to support even this. Not long
afterwards, Walter had caused to be sent to him counterfeit letters
from Rome, which he showed to all his subjects to inform them
that the Pope had given him the dispensation to take another


## p. 2112 (#310) ###########################################

2112
GIOVANNI BOCCACCIO
wife and leave Griselda.
After which, having called her to him,
in the presence of many people he said: "Lady, by the dispen-
sation made to me by the Pope I may take another wife and
leave you; and because my ancestors were great gentlemen and
lords in this country, whereas yours have always been workmen,
I mean that you shall not longer be my wife, but that you shall
return to the house of your father with the dowry which you
brought me, and that I shall take another wife whom I have
found more fitting for me. " The lady, hearing these words, not
without great difficulty and contrary to the nature of women kept
back her tears, and replied: "I knew always my low condi-
tion not to suit in any way your nobility, and what I have done,
by you and by God will be recognized: nor have I ever acted or
held it as given to me, but simply always had it as a loan; it
pleases you to take it back, and to me it ought to give pleasure
to return it to you. Here is your ring with which you married
me; take it.
You command me to take back the dowry which I
brought you; to do which neither of you to pay it nor of me to
receive it will demand either a purse or a beast of burden,
because it has escaped your mind that you took me naked: and
if you consider it honest that this body by which I have borne
the children begotten by you shall be seen by everybody, I will
go away naked; but I pray you in consideration of my virginity,
which I brought to you and which I cannot take away, that at
least a single shirt more than my dowry it will please you that
I shall take. " Walter, who had more desire to weep than any-
thing else, remained with a hard face and said, "You may take
with you a shirt. " He was prayed by all who were about him
that one garment more he should give, that it should not be
seen that she who had been his wife for thirteen years or more
should leave his house so poorly and shamefully as to go away in
her shirt; but in vain were the prayers made. On which account
the lady in her shirt, and barefoot, and without anything on her
head, went out of the house and returned to the house of her
father with the tears and lamentations of all who saw her.
Giannucoli, who had never been able to consider it a reality.
that Walter should have taken his daughter for a wife, and
expected every day this end, had kept the clothes which had
been taken from her that morning that Walter married her; so
that bringing them to her, she dressed herself in them and
returned to the little service of her father's house as she had


## p. 2113 (#311) ###########################################

GIOVANNI BOCCACCIO
2113
been accustomed, supporting with a strong mind these savage
attacks of fortune. When Walter had done this, he gave his
people to understand that he had taken the daughter of one of
the Counts of Panago for a wife, and having great preparations
made for the marriage, sent for Griselda that she should come; to
whom, having come, he said: "I bring this lady whom I have
now taken, and intend on her arrival to honor her, and you know
that I have not in the house women who know how to arrange
the chambers and to do many things that pertain to such festivi-
ties; on which account you, who better than anybody else know
the things in this house, shall put in order whatever there is to
be done, and cause to be invited the ladies whom you see fit, as
if you were mistress here; then, after the marriage ceremony,
you can go back to your house. " Although these words were
like so many knives in the heart of Griselda, as she had not
been able to divest herself of the love which she bore him as
she had of her good fortune,- she replied, "My lord, I am
ready and prepared;" and so entered with her coarse peasant's
clothing in the house from which she had shortly before gone in
her shirt, and began to sweep and put in order the rooms, the
hangings and carpets for the halls, and to put the kitchen in
order, and in every respect as if she had been a little servant in
the house, did she put her hand. Nor did she pause until she
had put everything in order and arranged it as it was most con-
venient. And having done this, and Walter at her indications
having invited all the ladies of the country, she began to arrange
the festivities; and when the day of the marriage came, with the
apparel which she had on her back, but with the mind and man-
ner of a lady, received with a cheerful countenance all the ladies
who came. Walter, who had had his children educated care-
fully by a relative in Bologna who had married into the house
of the Counts of Panago,-the girl being already of the age
of twelve years and the most beautiful creature that ever was
seen, and the boy being of six,- had written to his relative at
Bologna, praying him that he would be kind enough to come with
this his daughter to Saluzzo, and to arrange to bring with him a
fine and honorable company, and to say to all that these things
were brought for his wife, without telling anything to anybody
that it was otherwise. Having done what the Marquis asked of
him, the Count started on his way after several days with the
girl and her brother and with a noble company, and arrived at
―――――
--
IV-133


## p. 2114 (#312) ###########################################

2114
GIOVANNI BOCCACCIO
Saluzzo at the hour of dinner, when all the peasants and many
neighbors were present waiting for the new bride of Walter; who
being received by the ladies and going into the hall where the
tables were set, Griselda came forward joyfully to meet her, say-
ing, "Welcome, my lady. " The ladies (who had much, but in
vain, prayed Walter that he would arrange that Griselda should
remain in the chamber, or that he would give her some one of
the dresses which had been hers, in order that she should not
appear in this way before his strangers) were set at the table
and had begun to be served. The girl was looked at by every
man, and everybody said that Walter had made a good exchange:
but amongst the others Griselda praised her most; both her and
her little brother.
Walter, who seemed to have finally learned as much as he
desired of the patience of his lady, and seeing that the enduring
of these things produced no change in her, and being certain
that this did not happen from hypocrisy, because he knew that
she was very wise, considered it time to lighten her of the bit-
terness which he felt that she held hidden in her heart under
her strong self-control. Therefore, calling her in presence of all
the company, and smiling, he said, "What do you think of our
bride ? » "My lord," replied Griselda, "she seems to me very
good, and if she is as wise as she is beautiful, as I believe, I do
not doubt in the least that you will live with her the most com-
fortable gentleman in the world. But I pray you as much as I
can that these cruelties which you bestowed on the other which
was yours you will not give to this one, because I believe that
she could not support them; partly because she is young, and
again because she has been brought up delicately, while the
other has been always accustomed to hardships from a child. "
Walter, seeing that she firmly believed that this one was his wife,
nor on that account spoke otherwise than well, made her sit
down at his side and said: "Griselda, it is time now that you
should feel the rewards of your long patience, and that those
who have considered me a cruel, wicked, and brutal man should
know that that which I have done was done for a purpose,
wishing to teach you to be a wife, and them to know how to
take and to keep one, and for myself for the establishment of
unbroken quiet while I live with you. Because when I came
to take a wife I had great fear that this could not be the case,
and on that account, and to assure myself in all the ways which


## p. 2115 (#313) ###########################################

GIOVANNI BOCCACCIO
2115
you know, I have tried to pain you. And yet I have never per-
ceived that either in thought or deed have you ever contradicted
my pleasure: convinced that I shall have from you that comfort
which I desire, I now intend to return to you all at once what I
took from you on several occasions; and with the greatest ten-
derness to heal the wounds which I have given you; and so with
a happy soul know this one whom you believed to be my bride,
and this one her brother, as your and my children; they are
those whom you and many others have long believed that I had
cruelly caused to be killed; and I am your husband who above
all things loves you, believing that I may boast that there is no
other man who may be as well satisfied with his wife as I am. "
And so saying he embraced her and kissed her, and with her,
who wept for joy, rising, went where the daughter sat stupe-
fied, hearing these things; and, embracing her tenderly and her
brother as well, undeceived her and as many as were there. The
ladies, joyfully rising, went with Griselda to her chamber, and
with the most joyful wishes dressed her as a lady, which even
in her rags she had seemed, and then brought her back to the
hall; and there, making with the children a wonderful festivity,
every person being most joyful over these things, the rejoicings.
and the festivities were kept up for many days, and they all con-
sidered Walter the wisest of men, as they had considered bitter
and intolerable the proofs which he had imposed on his wife;
and especially they considered Griselda most discreet.
The Count of Panago returned after a few days to Bologna,
and Walter, having taken Giannucoli from his work, settled him
in the condition of his father-in-law, so that he lived with great
honor and with great comfort and so finished his old age. And
Walter afterwards, having married his daughter excellently, long
and happily lived with Griselda, honoring her always as much as
he could. And here we may say that as in royal houses come
those who are much more worthy to keep the hogs than to have
government over men, so even into poor houses there sometimes
come from Heaven divine spirits besides Griselda, who could
have been able to suffer with a countenance not merely tearless
but cheerful the severe, unheard-of proofs imposed on her by
Walter; to whom it would perhaps not have been unjust that
he should have happened on one who, when he turned her out
of his house in her shirt, should have become unfaithful with
another, as his actions would have made fitting.
-


## p. 2116 (#314) ###########################################

2116
FRIEDRICH MARTIN VON BODENSTEDT
(1819-1892)
B
ODENSTEDT was born at Peine, Hanover, April 22d, 1819. From
his earliest years his poetic nature broke through the
barriers of his prosaic surroundings; but in spite of these
significant manifestations, the young poet was educated to be a mer-
chant. He was sent to a commercial school in Brunswick, and then
put to serve an apprenticeship in business. His inclinations, how-
ever, were not to be repressed; and he devoted all of his holidays
and many hours of the night to study and writing. At last he con-
quered his adverse fate, and at the age of
twenty-one entered the University. He
studied at Göttingen, Munich, and Berlin,
and then through a fortunate chance went
to Moscow as tutor in the family of Prince
Galitzin. Here he remained three years,
during which time he diligently studied
the Slavonic languages and literature.
The first fruits of these studies were
translations from the poems of Kaslow,
Pushkin, and Lermontoff (1843); which
were considered equal to the originals in
poetic merit. In Stuttgart, two years later,
appeared his 'Poetische Ukraine (Poeti-
cal Ukraine). He went to Tiflis in 1842 as instructor in Latin
and French in the Gymnasium. Here he studied the Tartar and
Persian languages, under the direction of the "wise man » Mirza-
Schaffy (Scribe Schaffy), and began to translate Persian poems. "It
was inevitable," he afterwards said, "that with such occupations and
influences many Persian strains crept into my own poetry. " Here he
wrote his first poems in praise of wine. Later he became an exten-
sive traveler, and made long tours through the Caucasus and the
East. The fruit of these journeys was the book Die Völker des
Caucasus und ihre Freiheitskämpfe gegen die Russen (The People
of the Caucasus and their Struggle for Freedom against the Rus-
sians), published in 1848. After his return to Germany he settled in
Münich to study political economy in the University.

BODENSTEDT
Two years later, in 1850, appeared his delightful book in prose
and poetry, Tausend und ein Tag im Orient' (Thousand and One


## p. 2117 (#315) ###########################################

FRIEDRICH MARTIN VON BODENSTEDT
2117
Days in the East), a reminiscence of his Eastern wanderings and
his sojourn at Tiflis. The central figure is his Oriental friend Mirza-
Schaffy. "It occurred to me," he says, "to portray with poetic free-
dom the Caucasian philosopher as he lived in my memory, with all
his idiosyncrasies, and at the same time have him stand as the type
of an Eastern scholar and poet; in other words, to have him appear
more important than he really was, for he never was a true poet,
and of all the songs which he read to me as being his own, I could
use only a single one, the little rollicking song, 'Mullah, pure is the
wine, and it's sin to despise it. ' For his other verse I substituted
poems of my own, which were in keeping with his character and the
situations in which he appeared. " The poems by themselves, to-
gether with others written at different times and places, Bodenstedt
published in 1856 under the title 'Lieder des Mirza-Schaffy' (Songs
of Mirza-Schaffy). Quite unintentionally they have occasioned one of
the most amusing of literary mystifications. For a long time they
were supposed to be real translations; and even to-day, despite the
poet's own words, the "Sage of Tiflis" is considered by some a very
great oet. A Tartar by birth, who had absorbed Persian culture,
he was a skillful versifier, and could with facility translate simple
songs from the Persian into the Tartar language. Bodenstedt put
into Mirza-Schaffy's mouth the songs which were written during his
intercourse with the Eastern sage, to give vividness to the picture
of an Eastern divan of wisdom.
They portray Oriental life on its more sensuous, alluring side. In
most musical, caressing verse they sing of wine and love, of the
charms of Zuleika and Hafisa, of earthly bliss and the delights of
living. Yet with all their warm Eastern imagery and rich foreign
dress they are essentially German in spirit, and their prevailing note
of joyousness is now and again tempered by more serious strains.
The book was received with universal applause, and on it Boden-
stedt's fame as poet rests. It has been translated into all the
European languages, even into Hebrew and Tartar, and is now in its
one hundred and forty-third German edition. Twenty-four years later
Bodenstedt followed it with a similar collection, Aus dem Nachlass
des Mirza-Schaffy' (From the Posthumous Works of Mirza-Schaffy:
1874), where he shows the more serious, philosophic aspect of Eastern
life. Bodenstedt's poems and his translations of Persian poetry are
the culmination of the movement, begun by the Romantic School, to
bring Eastern thought and imagery home to the Western world.
Other well-known examples are Goethe's 'West-Eastern Divan,' and
the poems and paraphrases of Rückert and others; but the 'Songs of
Mirza-Schaffy' are the only poems produced under exotic influences
which have been thoroughly acclimatized on German soil.


## p. 2118 (#316) ###########################################

2118
FRIEDRICH MARTIN VON BODENSTEDT
Bodenstedt was for a time director of the court theatre at Mei-
ningen; and though he held this difficult position for only a short
time, he did much to lay the foundation of the success which the
Meininger, as the best German stock company of actors, achieved
later on their starring tours through the country. He was ennobled
in 1867, while in this position. He spent the last year of his life at
Wiesbaden, where he died in 1892.
Bodenstedt was a voluminous writer; his work includes poems,
romances, novels, and dramas. 'Vom Atlantischen zum Stillen
Ocean' (From the Atlantic to the Pacific Ocean: 1882) is a descrip-
tion of his lecturing tour to the United States the year before. His
autobiography, Erinnerungen aus Meinem Leben' (Recollections of
my Life), gives interesting glimpses into his eventful career. His
mind was more receptive than creative, and this, combined with his
great technical skill and his quick intuition, fitted him peculiarly to
be a translator and adapter. His translation of Shakespeare's works,
in conjunction with Paul Heyse, Kurz, and others (fifth edition, Leip-
zig, 1890), is especially noteworthy, as also his rendering of Shake-
speare's sonnets. But he will live in German literature as the poet
Mirza-Schaffy.
T
TWO
ONE exalted aim we both are tending,
I and thou!
To one captivity we both are bending.
I and thou!
In my heart thee I close-thou me in thine;
In twofold life, yet one, we both are blending,
I and thou!
Thee my wit draws-and me thine eye of beauty;
Two fishes, from one bait we are depending,
I and thou!
Yet unlike fishes-through the air of Heaven,
Like two brave eagles, we are both ascending,
I and thou!


## p. 2119 (#317) ###########################################

FRIEDRICH MARTIN VON BODENSTEDT
WINE
IN
IN THE goblet's magic measure,
In the wine's all-powerful spirit,
Lieth poison and delight:
Lieth purest, basest pleasure,
E'en according to the merit
Of the drinker ye invite.
Lo, the fool in baseness sunken,
Having drunk till he is tired,
When he drinks, behold him drunken;
When we drink, we are inspired.
SONG
OWN on the vast deep ocean
The sun his beams doth throw,
Till every wavelet trembles
Beneath their ruddy glow.
D
How like thou to those sunbeams
Upon my song's wild sea;
They tremble all and glitter,
Reflecting only thee.
UNCHANGING
IN EARLY days methought that all must last;
I
Then I beheld all changing, dying, fleeting;
But though my soul now grieves for much that's past,
And changeful fortunes set my heart oft beating,
I yet believe in mind that all will last,
Because the old in new I still am meeting.
2119


## p. 2120 (#318) ###########################################

2120
FRIEDRICH MARTIN VON BODENSTEDT
THE POETRY OF MIRZA-SCHAFFY
From the Thousand and One Days in the East'
Α
BBAS KULI KHAN was one of those gifted ambiguous natures
who, without inspiring confidence, always know how to
work an imposing effect, inasmuch as they hold to the
principle of displeasing no one, as a first rule of prudence.
It so happened then that even Mirza-Schaffy, bribed by the
flattery which the Khan of Baku, when he once surprised us in
the Divan of Wisdom, lavished upon him, declared him to be a
great Wise Man.
The mutual praise, so overflowing in its abundance, which
they bestowed on one another put them both in a very happy
humor. From the Koran, from Saadi, Hafiz, and Fizuli, each
authenticated the other to be the moving embodiment of all the
wisdom of earth.
A formal emulation in old and original songs took place
between them; for every piece of flattery was overlaid with a
tuneful quotation. Unfortunately, however, the entertainment
flowed so swiftly that I was unable to note down any coherent
account of it.
Nevertheless, being unwilling to let the long session go by
without any gain on my part, I requested the Khan to write for
me one of his artistic songs in remembrance. He nodded with
an approving look, and promised to write the most beautiful
song that ever the mouth of man had uttered; a song in praise
of his Fatima, playing on her stringed instrument.
Whilst Mirza-Schaffy raised a questioning look on hearing the
praise which the Khan expended on himself, the latter took the
kalem (reed-pen) and wrote what follows:-
―
FATIMA PLAYING ON HER STRINGED INSTRUMENT
"O'er the strings thy fingers are straying,
O'er my heart stray the tones;
And it wanders obeying,
Far away from the zones;
Up tending,
Round thee bending,
Round thy heart to be growing
And clinging,


## p. 2121 (#319) ###########################################

FRIEDRICH MARTIN VON BODENSTEDT
2121
Round thee flinging,
Its glad mirth overflowing-
Oh! thou Spirit from me springing,
Life on me bestowing!
Dazzled, blinded, confounded,
I see in thy glances
The whole world and its rounded
Unbounded expanses;
And round us it dances
In drunken confusion,
Like floating illusion;
Around thee I'm reeling,
All round me is wheeling-
And Heaven and Ocean,
In flashing commotion,
Round us both as thou singest,
Roll reeling and rushing-
Thou Joy to me that wingest,
Thou Soul from me outgushing! "
"On the following evening," said Mirza-Schaffy, "I appeared
at the appointed hour. During the day I had written a love
song which none of womankind could resist. I had sung it over
about twenty times to myself, in order to be sure of success.
Then I had been into the bath, and had had my head shaved so
perfectly that it might have vied in whiteness with the lilies of
the vale of Senghi. The evening was calm and clear; from the
garden-side where I stood, I could distinctly see my Zuléikha;
she was alone with Fatima on the roof, and had her veil put a
little back, as a sign of her favor. I took courage, and pushed
my cap down behind to show my white head, just fresh shaved,
to the maiden's eyes. Thou canst comprehend what an impres-
sion that would make on a woman's heart! Alas! my head was
much whiter then than it is now. But that is more than ten
years since! " he said sorrowfully, and would have continued in
this digression if I had not interposed the words:-
"Thy head is quite white enough now to fascinate the most
maidenly heart; but thou hast not yet told me how thou sangest
thy love song, and what impression it made upon Zuléikha. ”
"I had folded the song," said the Mirza, "round a double
almond kernel, and thrown it on the roof, as a keepsake for the
Beauty, before I began to sing it; and then I began with clear
voice:


## p. 2122 (#320) ###########################################

FRIEDRICH MARTIN VON BODENSTEDT
2122
"What is the eye of wild gazelle, the slender pine's unfolding,
Compared with thy delightful eyes, and thine ethereal molding?
What is the scent from Shiraz' fields, wind-borne, that's hither
straying,
Compared with richer scented breath from thy sweet mouth out-
playing?
What is Ghazel and Rubajat, as Hafiz ere was singing,
Compared with one word's mellow tone, from thy sweet mouth out-
winging?
What is the rosy-chaliced flower, where nightingales are quaffing,
Compared with thy sweet rosy mouth, and thy lips' rosy laughing?
What is the sun, and what the moon, and all heaven's constellations?
Love-glancing far for thee they glow with trembling scintillations!
And what am I myself, my heart, my songful celebration,
But slaves of royal loveliness, bright beauty's inspiration! "
"Allah, how beautiful! " I cried. "Mirza-Schaffy, thy words
sound as sweet as the songs of the Peris, in the world of spirits!
What is Hafiz to thee? What is a drop to the ocean? "
MIRZA-SCHAFFY
From the Thousand and One Days in the East'
Y FIRST object in Georgia was to secure an instructor in
M Tartar, that I might learn as quickly as possible a lan-
guage so indispensably necessary in the countries of the
Caucasus. Accident favored my choice, for my learned teacher
Mirza-Schaffy, the Wise Man of Gjändsha, as he styles himself,
is, according to his own opinion, the wisest of men.
With the modesty peculiar to his nation, he only calls himself
the first wise man of the East; but as according to his estima-
tion the children of the West are yet living in darkness and
unbelief, it is a matter of course with him that he soars above
us in wisdom and knowledge. Moreover, he indulges the hope
that, thanks to his endeavors, the illumination and wisdom of
the East will also, in the progress of years, actually spread
amongst us. I am already the fifth scholar, he tells me, who
has made a pilgrimage to him for the purpose of participating
in his instructions. He argues from this that the need of travel-
ing to Tiflis and listening to Mirza-Schaffy's sayings of wisdom
is ever becoming more vividly felt by us. My four predecessors,
he is further of opinion, have, since their return into the West,


## p. 2123 (#321) ###########################################

FRIEDRICH MARTIN VON BODENSTEDT
2123
•
promoted to the best of their ability the extension of Oriental
civilization amongst their races. But of me he formed quite
peculiar hopes; very likely because I paid him a silver ruble for
each lesson, which I understand is an unusually high premium for
the Wise Man of Gjändsha.
It was always most incomprehensible to him how we can call
ourselves wise or learned, and travel over the world with these
titles, before we even understand the sacred languages. Never-
theless he very readily excused these pretensions in me, inasmuch
as I was at least ardently endeavoring to acquire these languages,
but above all because I had made the lucky hit of choosing him
for my teacher.
The advantages of this lucky hit he had his own peculiar way
of making intelligible to me. "I, Mirza-Schaffy," said he, "am
the first wise man of the East! consequently thou, as my disciple,
art the second. But thou must not misunderstand me: I have a
friend, Omar-Effendi, a very wise man, who is certainly not the
third among the learned of the land. If I were not alive, and
Omar-Effendi were thy teacher, then he would be the first, and
thou, as his disciple, the second wise man! " After such an effus-
ion, it was always the custom of Mirza-Schaffy to point with his
forefinger to his forehead, at the same time giving me a sly
look; whereupon, according to rule, I nodded knowingly to him
in mute reciprocation.
That the Wise Man of Gjändsha knew how to render his vast
superiority in the highest degree palpable to any one who might
have any misgiving on the point, he once showed me by a strik-
ing example.
Among the many learned rivals who envied the lessons of
Mirza-Schaffy, the most conspicuous was Mirza-Jussuf, the Wise
Man of Bagdad. He named himself after this city, because he
had there pursued his studies in Arabic; from which he inferred
that he must possess more profound accomplishments than Mirza-
Schaffy, whom he told me he considered a "Fschekj," an ass
among the bearers of wisdom. "The fellow cannot even write
decently," Jussuf informed me of my reverend Mirza, "and he
cannot sing at all! Now I ask thee: What is knowledge with-
out writing? What is wisdom without song? What is Mirza-
Schaffy in comparison with me? "
In this way he was continually plying me with perorations of
confounding force, wherein he gave especial prominence to the


## p. 2124 (#322) ###########################################

2124
FRIEDRICH MARTIN VON BODENSTEDT
beauty of his name Jussuf, which Moses of old had celebrated,
and Hafiz sung of in lovely strains; he exerted all his acuteness
to evince to me that a name is not an empty sound, but that the
significance attached to a great or beautiful name is inherited in
more or less distinction by the latest bearers of this name. He,
Jussuf, for example, was a perfect model of the Jussuf of the
land of Egypt, who walked in chastity before Potiphar, and in
wisdom before the Lord.
THE SCHOOL OF WISDOM
From the Thousand and One Days in the East'
"M
IRZA-SCHAFFY! " I began, when we sat again assembled in
the Divan of Wisdom, "what wilt thou say when I tell
thee that the wise men of the West consider you as
stupid as you do them? »
“What can I do but be amazed at their folly? " he replied.
"What new thing can I learn from them, when they only repeat
mine? "
He ordered a fresh chibouk, mused awhile meditatingly before
him, bade us get ready the kalemdan (writing-stand), and then
began to sing:-
"Shall I laughing, shall I weeping
Go, because men are so brute,
Always foreign sense repeating,
And in self-expression mute?
"No, the Maker's praise shall rise
For the foolish generation;
Else the wisdom of the wise
Would be lost from observation! »
"Mirza-Schaffy," said I, interrupting him again, "would it not
be a prudent beginning to clothe thy sayings in a Western dress,
to the end that they might be a mirror for the foolish, a rule of
conduct for the erring, and a source of high enjoyment for our
wives and maidens, whose charm is as great as their inclination
to wisdom? "
"Women are everywhere wise,” replied my reverend teacher,
"and their power is greater than fools imagine. Their eyes are
the original seat of all true devotion and wisdom, and he who
inspires from them needs not wait for death to enter upon the


## p. 2125 (#323) ###########################################

FRIEDRICH MARTIN VON BODENSTEDT
2125
joys of Paradise.
The smallest finger of woman overthrows the
mightiest edifice of faith, and the youngest maiden mars the
oldest institutions of the Church! "
"But thou hast not yet given me an answer to my question,
O Mirza! "
"Thou speakest wisely. The seed of my words has taken
root in thy heart. Write; I will sing! "
And now he sang to me a number of wonderful songs, part
of which here follow in an English dress.
MIRZA-SCHAFFY'S OPINION OF THE SHAH OF PERSIA
LEARNED Scribe once came to me from far:
A
"Mirza! " said he, "what think'st thou of the Shah?
Was wisdom really born in him with years?
And are his eyes as spacious as his ears? »
"He's just as wise as all who round them bind
Capuche and gown: he knows what an amount
Of stupid fear keeps all his people blind,
And how to turn it to his own account. "
MIRZA-SCHAFFY PRAISES THE CHARMS OF ZULÉIKHA
OOKING at thy tender little feet
Makes me always wonder, sweetest maiden,
How they so much beauty can be bearing!
Looking at thy lovely little hands
Makes me always wonder, sweetest maiden,
How they so to wound me can be daring!
Looking at thy rosy luring lips
Makes me always wonder, sweetest maiden,
How they of a kiss e'er can be sparing!
Looking at thy meaningful bright eyes
Makes me always wonder, sweetest maiden,
How for greater love they can be caring
Than I feel. Oh, look at me, and love!
Warmer than my heart, thou sweetest maiden,
Heart in thy love never will be sharing.
Listen to this rapture-reaching song!
Fairer than my mouth, thou sweetest maiden,
Mouth thy praise will never be declaring!
L


## p. 2126 (#324) ###########################################

2126
FRIEDRICH MARTIN VON BODENSTEDT
AN EXCURSION INTO ARMENIA
From the Thousand and One Days in the East'
NOW
ow follow me into that blessed land wherein tradition places
Paradise, and wherein I also placed it, until I found that
it lay in thine eyes, thou, mine Edlitam!
Follow me to the banks of the Senghi and Araxes, rich in
bloom, sacred in tradition; where I sought for rest after long
wandering in the mazes of a strange land, until I knew that rest
is nowhere to be found but in one's own bosom; follow me into
the gardens where Noah once planted the vine for his own enjoy-
ment and heart's delight, and for the gladness of all subsequent
races of toiling men; follow me through the steep mountain-paths
overhung with glaciers, to the arid table-lands of Ararat, where,
clad in a garment red as blood, on his steed of nimble thigh, the
wild Kurd springs along, with flashing glance and sunburnt face,
in his broad girdle the sharp dagger and long pistols of Damascus,
and in his practiced hand the slender, death-slinging lance of
Bagdad — where the nomad pitches his black tent, and with wife
and child cowers round the fire that scares away the beasts of the
wilderness—where caravans of camels and dromedaries wend their
way, laden with the treasures of the Orient, and guided by watch-
ful leaders in wide many-colored apparel- where the Tartar,
eager for spoil, houses in hidden rocks, or in half-subterranean,
rudely excavated huts; follow me into the fruitful valleys, where
the sons of Haïghk, like the children of Israel, far from the cor-
ruption of cities, still live in primeval simplicity, plough their
fields and tend their flocks, and practice hospitality in Biblical
pureness; follow me to Ararat, which still bears the diluvian Ark
upon his king-like, hoary head-follow me into the highlands of
Armenia!
In Paradise we will be happy, and refresh our eyes with a
glance at the fair daughters of the land; and at the grave of
Noah we will sit down, the drinking-horn in our hand, a song on
our lips, and joyous confidence in our hearts; for the God who
once when the whole world deserved hanging favored mankind
with a watery grave, and suffered only Noah to live because he
cultivated the vine and rejoiced in love and drinking, will also to
us, who cherish like desires, be as favorable as to the father of
post-diluvian men.


## p. 2127 (#325) ###########################################

FRIEDRICH MARTIN VON BODENSTEDT
2127
MIRZA-JUSSUF
EE Mirza-Jussuf now,
How critical a wight 'tis !
The day displeases him,
Because for him too bright 'tis.
SEE
He doesn't like the rose,-
Her thorn a sad affront is;
And doesn't like mankind,
Because its nose in front is.
-
On ev'rything he spies
His bitter bane he passes;
For naught escapes his eyes,
Except that he an ass is.
Thus, evermore at strife
With Art and Nature too,
By day and night he wanders
Through wastes of misty blue.
Mirza-Schaffy bemocks him
With sly and roguish eye,
And makes of all his bitterness
The sweetest melody.
WISDOM AND KNOWLEDGE
F
RIEND, wouldst know why as a rule
Bookish learning marks the fool?
'Tis because, though once befriended,
Learning's pact with wisdom's ended.
No philosophy e'er throve
In a nightcap by the stove.
Who the world would understand
In the world must bear a hand.
If you're not to wisdom wed,
Like the camel you're bested,
Which has treasures rich, to bear
Through the desert everywhere,
But the use must ever lack
Of the goods upon his back.


## p. 2128 (#326) ###########################################

2128
JOHANN JAKOB BODMER
(1698-1783)
THE beginning of the eighteenth century, the political and
intellectual life of Germany showed no signs of its imminent
awakening. French supremacy was undisputed. French
was spoken by polite society, and only the middle and lower classes
consented to use their mother tongue. French literature was alone
fashionable, and the few scientific works that appeared were pub-
lished in Latin. Life was hard and sordid. Thought and imagina-
tion languished. Such writings as existed were empty, pompous,
and pedantic. Yet from this dreary waste-
land was to spring that rich harvest of
literature which, in a brief half-century,
made the German nation famous.

Klopstock, Wieland, Lessing, Herder,
Goethe, and Schiller-these were the great
names that were soon to shine like stars
in the literary firmament. But the lesser
men who broke the ground and opened
paths for their brilliant followers are
almost forgotten.
JOHANN JAKOB BODMER
Toward the middle of the century, there
lived in Zürich a modest professor of his-
tory, Johann Jakob Bodmer by name (born
July 19th, 1698), who spoke the first word for a national literature,
and who was the first writer to attempt a scientific criticism of
contemporary authors. His efforts were rude beginnings of a style
that culminated in the polished essays of Lessing. It was Bodmer
whose independence of thought and feeling first revolted from the
slavish imitation of French culture that enchained the German mind.
In his youth he had been sent to Italy to study commerce. This
visit aroused his poetic and artistic nature. He forgot his business
in listening to street singers, in imitation of whom he wrote Italian
lyrics. He read French works on art, and wrote artificial French
verses according to French models. With equal versatility he com-
posed German poetry, copying Opitz, whom he esteemed a great
poet. Nor did he hesitate to try his skill at Latin hexameters.
By chance a copy of Addison's Spectator fell into his hands. He
turned at once from French and Italian culture to admire English


## p. 2129 (#327) ###########################################

JOHANN JAKOB BODMER
2129
classics. The first German to appreciate Milton and Shakespeare (the
latter he called the English Sophocles), he never wavered in his
devotion to the English school. With his faithful friend, Johann
Jakob Breitinger, a conscientious scholar, he started in Zürich a
critical weekly paper on the plan of the Spectator. It was called
Discoursen der Mahlern (Discourses of the Painters), and its essays
embody the first literary effort of the Swiss as a nation. A little
weekly coterie soon gathered about Bodmer to discuss the conduct of
the paper; but much of the spirit and enthusiasm of these councils
evaporated in print, the journal being subjected to a rigid censor-
ship. Not alone art and literature came under discussion, but social
subjects. All contributions were signed with the names of famous
painters, and dealt with mistakes in education, the evils of card-
playing, the duties of friendship, love and matrimony, logic, morality,
pedantry, imagination, self-consciousness, and the fear of death.
These discourses were chiefly written by Bodmer and his colleague
Breitinger. The earlier papers, awkwardly expressed, often in Swiss
dialect, masqueraded as the work of Holbein, Dürer, Raphael, or
Michael Angelo. Although intended at first for Swiss readers only,
the little weekly soon captured a German public. Its purpose was to
kindle the imagination, and to suggest a parallel between the art of
painting and the art of literature. Bodmer only dimly outlined what
an infinitely greater mind defined with unerring precision some
twenty years later in the 'Laocoon. ' But the service of the older
man to literature is not therefore to be undervalued. Bodmer created
the function of analytic and psychological criticism in Germany.
Hitherto no writer had been called to account for any literary offense
whatever. Bodmer maintained that the man who demanded a hear-
ing from the public must show good cause for this demand.
After two years the Discourses were discontinued; but Bodmer
had gained great influence over the young writers of the time. He
increased his reputation by translating Milton's 'Paradise Lost,' which
he considered "a masterpiece of poetic genius, and the leading work
of modern times. " He deplores, however, the low standard of public
taste, which, delighting in inferior poets, cannot at once rise to the
greatest works. Already there existed in Leipzig a sort of literary
centre, where Gottsched was regarded as a dictator in matters of
taste. This literary autocrat praised Bodmer's translation of 'Para-
dise Lost' more than the original poem, in which he condemned the
rhymeless metre. A sharp controversy soon divided the literary
world into two hostile parties, known in German literature as the
"conflict between Leipzig and Zürich. " Gottsched followed Voltaire
in considering the English style rude and barbarous; whereas Bodmer,
with keener artistic perception and deeper insight, defended Milton
IV-134


## p. 2130 (#328) ###########################################

2130
JOHANN JAKOB BODMER
1
and Shakespeare. The quarrel, in which Zürich prevailed, called the
attention of Germany to the English literature, so closely affiliated
to the German mind and taste, and hastened its liberation from the
French yoke. Besides these services, Bodmer showed untiring zeal
in rescuing from oblivion the beautiful poems and epics of the
Middle Ages. In his essay The Excellent Conditions for Poetic Pro-
duction under the Rule of the Swabian Emperors,' he directs public
attention to the exquisite lyrics of the Minnesänger. It was he who
revealed that hidden treasure of German literature, the Nibelungen-
lied. By his studies and translations of Middle High German, he
opened the vast and important field of Germanic philology. To the
end of his eighty-five years he was occupied with preparing selec-
tions from the Minnesänger, and his joy was unbounded when his
half-century of work was crowned with success, and the first volume
of these poems was placed in his hands.
Notwithstanding his true appreciation of poetry, he could not write
it. He placed the religious above all other poetic productions, and
valued the fable highly.
His hospitable roof in Zürich had an ever cordial welcome for all
writers, and many were the poets who sojourned in the "Dichterher-
berge " (poets' inn); among them Klopstock, Wieland, and Goethe.
He held the esteem of the nation long after his own writings had
been crowded into forgetfulness by the new men whose way he had
prepared, — for the genius of Herder and Lessing may be said to
have completed the work that was so courageously begun by Bodmer.
THE KINSHIP OF THE ARTS
From Rubens >
W"
HEN I consider the close relationship of the arts that are
represented by the pen, brush, and chisel, I am inclined
to think that the manes of these excellent painters and
sculptors whose names our contributors have assumed would
probably not be displeased with the liberty we have taken. Pro-
vided these departed spirits still feel a passionate interest in our
worldly affairs, they might wish to instruct these painting writers
to follow nature as closely and skillfully with their pens as they
themselves had done with delicate brush or chisel. Nature is
indeed the one universal teacher of all artists. Painter, sculptor,
author, not one can succeed unless he hold counsel with her.
The writer who does not respect her is a falsifier, and the
painter or sculptor who departs from her is a dabbler. The


## p. 2131 (#329) ###########################################

JOHANN JAKOB BODMER
2131
highest place in art belongs to the writer, for his field compre-
hends most. With one stroke of the pen he will describe more
than a painter can represent in a succession of pictures. On
the other hand, the painter appeals more to the imagination,
and leaves a stronger impression than description can possibly
awaken.
POETRY AND PAINTING
From Holbein'
A
TRUE poet will try to paint pictures on the imagination,
which at a man's birth is devoid of impressions. I hold
that the imagination is a vast plain, capable of compre-
hending all that nature may bring forth, besides innumerable
illusions, fancies, and poetic figures. A writer's pen is his brush,
and words are his colors, which he must blend, heighten, or tone
down, so that each object may assume a natural living form.
The best poet will so paint his pictures that his readers will
see the originals reflected as in a mirror. If his imagination
be vivid, words grow eloquent, he feels all that he sees: he is
impelled onward like a madman, and he must follow whither his
madness leads. This frenzy need not be inspired by any real
object, but it must kindle his imagination to arouse a real emo-
tion. A new conception delights the fancy. The newest is the
most marvelous. To this must be given a semblance of proba-
bility, and to probability a touch of the marvelous.
The poet
must portray to the imagination the struggles of passion and the
emotions of the human heart. His diction must be splendid and
emphatic. Casting aside all earthly love, he must depict the
love that springs from the soul, the love felt by him whose
thoughts soar towards heaven, where God is the source of eternal
beauty. The most artistic ode is that in which art is concealed,
and in which the poet, unfettered, is driven by his own ardor.


## p. 2132 (#330) ###########################################

2132
JOHANN JAKOB BODMER
A TRIBUTE TO TOBACCO
From Dürer)
W extraordinary personage.
HOEVER excels in any direction desires to be considered an
Even the coquettish Phryne,
fearing that the arts in which she really excelled might
be forgotten, offered to rebuild the walls of Thebes on condition
that the following inscription were cut thereon:
"The great
Alexander razed these walls, but the hetaira Phryne rebuilt
them. " Gentlemen, I adore tobacco, and I appeal to the world
for recognition. The floor of my room is strewn with tobacco
ashes, on which my footsteps fall like those of the priests in the
temple of Babylon. Pipes that I have buried in this tobacco
desert lift their bowls here and there like stones in a cemetery.
I shall make a pyramid of these relics, yellow, brown, and black,
from which I shall reap renown as others win it with trophies
gained on the battle-field. Besides books, which I love best
after tobacco, my shelves and walls hold pipes collected from all
nations, and grouped as if they were guns or sabres. My favorite
pipe I never fill except on birthdays or festivals. A Frenchman
who brought this from Canada swore that it was an Iroquois
pipe of peace. Certain people take me for an alchemist, and
my pipes for retorts with chimneys; but they do me wrong.
Not only do I draw smoke but food from my distilling appa-
ratus. I should be hailed rather as a philosopher, for while I
watch the floating smoke I meditate on the vanity of man and
his fleeting occupations. The moral of my tale is moderation;
for my pipe is food and drink at once, and I know no better
example of Nature's frugality than the fact that an ounce of
tobacco provides me with a meal. Women delight in tea even
as men prize tobacco. This difference in taste leads to friction
of temper. Drinkers of tea inhale many a disagreeable whiff of
tobacco, and lovers of tobacco are driven to accept many an
unwelcome cup of tea. I, as a sufferer, would gladly set on foot
a formal league which should compel an armed neutrality, and
protect the one belligerent from the odor of the delicious pipe
and the other from the complaisance of the tyrannous tea-cup.
Breath is smoke, and reason is but a spark in our hearts.
When the spark is extinguished, our body perishes like smolder-
ing ashes, and our breath floats away like the smoke.
-


## p. 2133 (#331) ###########################################

2133
BOËTIUS
(475-525)
NICIUS MANLIUS SEVERINUS BOËTIUS was born about 475 A. D.
His father was Flavius Manlius Boëtius, a patrician of great
wealth and influence, who was trusted by the Emperor
Odoacer and held the consulship in 487. The father died before his
son reached manhood; and the youth was left to the guardianship of
his kinsmen Festus and Symmachus, by whom he was carefully
educated. He was remarkable early in life for his scholarship, and
especially for his mastery of the Greek language, an accomplishment
unusual for a Roman of this period. He
entered public life when about thirty years
of age, but duties of State were not per-
mitted to put an end to his studies. He
had married Rusticiana, the daughter of
his guardian Symmachus.
The Roman world was now ruled by
Theodoric the Ostrogoth. This leader had
succeeded to the headship of the Ostro-
goths on the death of his father Theo-
domir in 474. For a time he was a pen-
sioner of the Byzantine court, with the
duty of defending the lower Danube; but
in 488 he determined to invade Italy and
become a sovereign subordinate to no one. By the defeat of Odoacer
in 489 he accomplished that end; and desiring to conciliate the Sen-
atorial party at Rome, he called Boëtius from his studious retirement,
as one who by his position and wealth could reconcile his country-
men to the rule of a barbarian chief.
BOËTIUS

In 510 Boëtius was made consul, and he continued in the public
service till after his sons Symmachus and Boëtius were elevated
to the consulship in 522. Thus far he had enjoyed the full confi-
dence of Theodoric; but in 523 he was thrown into prison in Pavia
and his property confiscated, and the Senate condemned him to
death. Two years later he was executed. Unfortunately, the only
account we have of the causes which led to this downfall is Boëtius's
own in the 'Consolations. According to this, he first incurred Theo-
doric's displeasure by getting the province of Campania excepted
from the operation of an edict requiring the provincials to sell their


## p. 2134 (#332) ###########################################

BOËTIUS
2134
corn to the government, and otherwise championing the people
against oppression; was the victim of various false accusations; and
finally was held a traitor for defending Albinus, chief of the Senate,
from the accusation of holding treasonable correspondence with the
Emperor Justin at Constantinople. "If Albinus be criminal, I and
the whole Senate are equally guilty," Boëtius reports himself to have
said. There is no good reason to doubt his truthfulness in any of
these matters; but he does not tell the whole truth, except in a sen-
tence he lets slip later. Theodoric's act was no outbreak of bar-
barian suspicion and ferocity. Boëtius and the whole Senate were
really guilty of holding an utterly untenable political position, which
no sovereign on earth would endure: they wished to make the Em-
peror at Constantinople a court of appeal from Theodoric, as though
the latter were still a subordinate prince. This may not have been
technical treason, but it was practical insubordination; and under
any other barbarian ruler or any one of fifty native ones, Rome would
have flowed with blood. Theodoric contented himself with executing
the ringleader, and the following year put to death Boëtius's father-
in-law Symmachus in fear of his plotting revenge. Even so, the
executions were a bad political mistake: they must have enraged and
thoroughly alienated the Senatorial party,- that is, the chief Italian
families, and made a fusion of the foreign and native elements
definitively out of the question. We need not blame Boëtius or the
Senate for their very natural aspiration to live under a civilized
instead of a barbarian jurisdiction, even though they had their own
codes and courts; but the de facto governing power had its rights also.
In 996 Boëtius's bones were removed to the church of St. Augus-
e, where his tomb may still be seen. As time elapsed, his death
was considered a martyrdom, and he was canonized as St. Severinus.
Boëtius was a thorough student of Greek philosophy, and formed
the plan of translating all of Plato and Aristotle and reconciling their
philosophies. This work he never completed. He wrote a treatise
on music which was used as a text-book as late as the present
century; and he translated the works of Ptolemy on astronomy, of
Nicomachus on arithmetic, of Euclid on geometry, and of Archime-
des on mechanics. His great work in this line was a translation of
Aristotle, which he supplemented by a commentary in thirty books.
Among his writings are a number of works on logic and a comment-
ary on the Topica' of Cicero. In addition to these, five theological
tracts are ascribed to him, the most important being a discussion of
the doctrine of the Trinity.
___
The work which has done most to perpetuate his name is the
'Consolations of Philosophy,' in five books, - written during his im-
prisonment at Pavia,- which has been called "the last work of


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Roman literature. " It is written in alternate prose and verse, and
treats of his efforts to find solace in his misfortune. The first book
opens with a vision of a woman, holding a book and sceptre, who
comes to him with promises of comfort. She is his lifelong com-
panion, Philosophy. He tells her the story of his troubles. In the
second book, Philosophy tells him that Fortune has the right to take
away what she has bestowed, and that he still has wife and children,
the most precious of her gifts; his ambition to shine as statesman
and philosopher is foolish, as no greatness is enduring. The third
book takes up the discussion of the Supreme Good, showing that it
consists not in riches, power, nor pleasure, but only in God. In the
fourth book the problems of the existence of evil in the world and
the freedom of the will are examined; and the latter subject con-
tinues through the fifth book. During the Middle Ages this work
was highly esteemed, and numerous translations appeared. In the
ninth century Alfred the Great gave to his subjects an Anglo-Saxon
version; and in the fourteenth century Chaucer made an English
translation, which was published by Caxton in 1480. Before the six-
teenth century it was translated into German, French, Italian, Spanish,
and Greek.
It is now perhaps best known for the place it occupies in the
spiritual development of Dante. He turned to it for comfort after
the death of his Beatrice in 1291. Inspired by its teachings, he gave
himself up for a time to the study of philosophy, with the result of
his writing the 'Convito,' a book in which he often refers to his
favorite author. In his 'Divine Comedy he places Boëtius in the
Heaven of the Sun, together with the Fathers of the Church and the
schoolmen.
OF THE GREATEST GOOD
From the Consolations of Philosophy'
E
VERY mortal is troubled with many and various anxieties, and
yet all desire, through various paths, to arrive at one goal;
that is, they strive by different means to attain one happi-
ness: in a word, God. He is the beginning and the end of every
good, and he is the highest happiness. Then said the Mind:-
This, methinks, must be the highest good, so that men should.
neither need, nor moreover be solicitous, about any other good
besides it; since he possesses that which is the roof of all other
good, inasmuch as it includes all other good, and has all other
kinds within it. It would not be the highest good if any good
―


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BOËTIUS
were external to it, because it would then have to desire some
good which itself had not. Then answered Reason, and said: - It
is very evident that this is the highest happiness, for it is both
the roof and the floor of all good. What is that then but the
best happiness, which gathers the other felicities all within it, and
includes and holds them within it; and to it there is a deficiency
of none, neither has it need of any, but they come all from it
and again all to it, as all waters come from the sea and again all
come to the sea? There is none in the little fountain, which
does not seek the sea, and again from the sea it returns into the
earth, and so it flows gradually through the earth, till it again
comes to the same fountain that it before flowed from, and so
again to the sea.
Now, this is an example of the true good, which all mortal
men desire to obtain, though they by various ways think to
arrive at it. For every man has a natural good in himself,
because every mind desires to obtain the true good; but it is
hindered by the transitory good, because it is more prone thereto.
For some men think that it is the best happiness that a man
be so rich that he have need of nothing more, and they choose
their life accordingly. Some men think that this is the highest
good, that he be among his fellows the most honorable of his
fellows; and they with all diligence seek this. Some think that
the supreme good is in the highest power. These strive either
themselves to rule, or else to associate themselves to the friend-
ship of rulers. Some persuade themselves that it is best that
a man be illustrious and celebrated and have good fame; they
therefore seek this both in peace and in war.