Many persons of the instructed classes, and some others among the Arabs, often take delight and show much ingenuity and quickness of apprehension in conversing and corresponding by means of signs and emblems, or in a conventional, metaphorical language, not understood by the vulgar in general and sometimes not by any excepting the parties engaged in the intercourse. In some cases, when the main metaphor employed is understood, the rest of the conversation becomes easily intelligible, without any previous explanation; and I have occasionally succeeded in carrying on a conversation of this kind, but I have more frequently been unsuccessful in attempting to divine the nature of a topic in which other persons were engaged. One simple mode of secret conversation or correspondence is by substituting certain letters for other letters.
Many of the women are said to be adepts in this art, or science, and to convey messages, declarations of love, and the like, by means of fruits, flowers, and other emblems. The inability of numbers of women in families of the middle classes to write or read, as well as the difficulty or impossibility frequently existing of conveying written letters, may have given rise to such modes of communication. Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, in one of her charming letters from the East, has gratified our curiosity by a Turkish love-letter of this kind.[140] A specimen of one from an Arab with its answer, may be here added:—An Arab lover sent to his mistress a fan, a bunch of flowers, a silk tassel, some sugar-candy, and a piece of a chord of a musical instrument; and she returned for answer a piece of an aloe-plant, three black cumin-seeds, and a piece of a plant used in washing.[141] His communication is thus interpreted. The fan, being called "mirwaḥah," a word derived from a root which has among its meanings that of "going to any place in the evening," signified his wish to pay her an evening visit: the flowers, that the interview should be in her garden: the tassel, being called "shurrábeh," that they should have sharáb[142] (or wine): the sugar-candy, being termed "sukkar nebát," and "nebát" also signifying "we will pass the night," denoted his desire to remain in her company until the morning: and the piece of a chord, that they should be entertained by music. The interpretation of her answer is as follows. The piece of an aloe-plant, which is called "ṣabbárah" (from "ṣabr," which signifies "patience"—because it will live for many months together without water), implied that he must wait: the three black cumin-seeds explained to him that the period of delay should be three nights: and the plant used in washing informed him that she should then have gone to the bath, and would meet him.[143]
A remarkable faculty is displayed by some Arabs for catching the meaning of secret signs employed in written communications to them, such signs being often used in political and other intrigues. The following is a curious instance.—The celebrated poet El-Mutanebbee, having written some verses in dispraise of Káfoor El-Ikhsheedee, the independent Governor of Egypt, was obliged to flee and hide himself in a distant town. Káfoor was informed of his retreat, and desired his secretary to write to him a letter promising him pardon and commanding him to return; but told the writer at the same time that when the poet came he would punish him. The secretary was a friend of the poet, and, being obliged to read the letter to the Prince when he had written it, was perplexed how to convey to El-Mutanebbee some indication of the danger that awaited him. He could only venture to do so in the exterior address; and having written this in the usual form, commencing "In sháa-lláh" (If it be the will of God) "this shall arrive," etc., he put a small mark of reduplication over the "n" in the first word, which he thus converted into "Inna," the final vowel being understood. The poet read the letter and was rejoiced to see a promise of pardon; but on looking a second time at the address was surprised to observe the mark of reduplication over the "n." Knowing the writer to be his friend, he immediately suspected a secret meaning, and rightly conceived that the sign conveyed an allusion to a passage in the Ḳur-án commencing with the word "Inna," and this he divined to be the following:—"Verily the magistrates are deliberating concerning thee, to put thee to death."[144] Accordingly, he fled to another town. Some authors add that he wrote a reply conveying by a similar sign to his friend an allusion to another passage in the Ḳur-án:—"We will never enter the country while they remain therein."[145] It is probable that signs thus employed were used by many persons to convey allusions to certain words; and such may have been the case in the above-mentioned instance: if not, the poet was indeed a wonderful guesser.
It is commonly believed by the Muslims (learned and unlearned) that all kinds of birds and many (if not all) beasts have a language by which they communicate their thoughts to each other; and we are told in the Ḳur-án[146] that Suleymán (Solomon) was taught the language of birds.[147] I thought that I could boast of an accomplishment very rare in Christian countries, in having learned in Egypt somewhat of this language; for instance, that the common cry of the pigeon is "Allah! Allah!" ("God! God!"); that of the ringdove, "Kereem! Towwáb!" ("Bountiful! Propitious!"—an ejaculation addressed to God); that of the common dove, "Waḥḥidoo rabbakumu-llezee khalaḳakum yeghfir-lakum zembakum!" ("Assert the unity of your Lord who created you, that He may forgive you your sin!"): but I afterwards found that several specimens of this language were given by Ez-Zamakhsheree, and had been published in Europe.[148] The cock cries, "Uzkuru-lláha, yá gháfiloon!" ("Commemorate God, O ye negligent!"): the ḳaṭà (a kind of grouse), "Men seket selim!" ("He who is silent is safe!") The latter, however, would do better if it did itself attend to the maxim it utters; for its cry (which to the uninstructed in the language of birds sounds merely "ḳaṭà! ḳaṭà!"—its own name) tells where it is to be found by the sportsman, and thus causes its own destruction.—Hence the proverb, "More veracious than the ḳaṭà."
An Arab historian mentions a parrot which recited the Soorat Yá-Seen (or 36th chapter of the Ḳur-án), and a raven which recited the Soorat es-Sijdeh (or 32nd chapter) and which, on arriving at the place of prostration (or verse which should be recited with prostration), would perform that action, and say, "My body prostrateth itself to Thee, and my heart confideth in Thee." But these are not the most remarkable cases of the kind. He affirms that there was a parrot in Cairo which recited the Ḳur-án from beginning to end. The Pásha, he says, desiring to try its talent, caused a man to recite a chapter of the Ḳur-án in its presence, and to pass irregularly from one chapter to another, with the view of leading the bird into error; but, instead of this being the result, the parrot corrected him![149]
FOOTNOTES:
[123] Mishkát el-Maṣábeeḥ, ii. 424. This of course alludes to Arab unbelievers. [For a fuller account of ancient Arab poetry, with examples, see my Introduction to Lane's "Selections from the Ḳur-án," xiv.-xxxi. 2nd ed. S. L-P.]
[124] Genesis ix. 5.
[125] Lettres sur l'Histoire des Arabes avant l'Islamisme, par Fulgence Fresnel (Paris, 1836, pp. 31 ff.); an author who is at present [1837] devoting talents of the very highest order to the study and illustration of the history and literature of the early Arabs, and to whose conversations and writings I must acknowledge myself indebted for the most valuable information.
[126] El-Isḥáḳee.