ALFARABI.

The middle of the tenth century was made illustrious by one of those celebrated men who do honour to the sciences in which they engage. This was Abou-Nasr-Mohammed-Ibn-Tarkan, commonly called Farabi and Alfarabi—a man of universal genius, who penetrated all subjects with equal facility, fathoming the most useful and interesting sciences, and passing for the greatest philosopher of his time.

He was born at Farab, now known as Othrar, in Asia Minor. He was of Turkish origin, but repaired to Bagdad to acquire a more perfect knowledge of Arabic; there he devoted himself with zeal and enthusiasm to the study of the Greek philosophers under Abou Bachar Maltey, an expounder of Aristotle. From Bagdad he proceeded to Harran, where John, a Christian physician, was teaching logic. In a short time Alfarabi surpassed all his other scholars, but he left Harran and visited Damas, thence penetrating into Egypt. Early attracted towards the secrets of nature, he spent a great portion of his life in incessant wanderings, collecting the opinions of all the philosophers he could meet with on these and on kindred subjects. He despised the world, and took no pains to acquire wealth, though he wrote upon alchemy, that is, if the Hermetic works which are attributed to him be genuine. His erudition and indefatigable activity are attested by his other writings, which variously treat of philosophy, logic, physics, astronomy, and mathematics. His chief reputation is based on a sort of encyclopædia, where he gives a description, with an exact definition, of all the arts and sciences; and on a celebrated musical treatise, wherein he ridicules the pythagorean speculations upon the music of the spheres, and proves the connection of sound with atmospheric vibrations.

According to several authorities, he was protected and supported in his later years by the cultured and enlightened Seïf Eddoula, who is represented as Prince of Damas, but who seems to have been Sultan of Syria, and to have made the acquaintance of the scholar in the following curious manner.

Alfarabi was returning from a pilgrimage to Mecca, when, passing through Syria, he stopped at the Court of the Sultan, and entered his presence while he was surrounded by numerous sage persons, who were discoursing with the monarch on the sciences.

Alfarabi, ignorant of, or else wholly ignoring, the usages of society, presented himself in his travelling attire; and when the Sultan desired that he should be seated, with astonishing philosophical freedom, he planted himself at the end of the royal sofa. The prince, aghast at his boldness, called one of his officers, and in a tongue generally unknown commanded him to eject the intruder. The philosopher, however, promptly made answer in the same tongue: “Oh, Lord, he who acts hastily is liable to hasty repentance!” The prince was equally astounded to find himself understood by the stranger as by the manner in which the reply was given. Anxious to know more of his guest, he began to question him, and soon discovered that he was acquainted with seventy languages. Problems for discussion were then propounded to the philosophers who had witnessed the discourteous intrusion with considerable indignation and disgust, but Alfarabi disputed with so much eloquence and vivacity that he reduced all the doctors to silence, and they began writing down his discourse. The Sultan then ordered his musicians to perform for the diversion of the company. When they struck up, the philosopher accompanied them on a lute with such infinite grace and tenderness, that he elicited the unmeasured admiration of the whole distinguished assembly. At the request of the Sultan he produced a piece of his own composing, sung it, and accompanied it with great force and spirit to the delight of all his hearers. The air was so sprightly that even the gravest philosopher could not resist dancing, but by another tune he as easily melted them to tears, and then by a soft unobtrusive melody he lulled the whole company to sleep.

Great was the anxiety of the Sultan to retain so accomplished a person about him, and some say that he succeeded, others that the philosopher declined the most brilliant offers, declaring that he should never rest till he had discovered the whole secret of the philosopher’s stone of which he had been in search for years, and to which, from his discourse, he appeared to be on the point of attaining. According to these biographers, he set out, but it was to perish miserably. He was attacked by robbers in the woods of Syria, and, in spite of his courage, was overpowered by numbers and killed. This occurred in the year 954. Others say that he died at Damas, enjoying the munificence of the Sultan to the last.