This preamble is not less remarkable for its flowery diction than for the art by which it saves the dignity of the king of Persia from the appearance of treating with any one below the rank of a monarch. It is also curious to observe, that after introducing the king of England, how skilfully he is limited to an undisputed sovereignty of the seas, that his power may not clash with that of the mighty Khoosroo of the day, "whose saddle is the moon, and whose stirrup is the new moon," in his dominion over the earth!
Speaking on the above subjects to Aga Meer, I asked him if their monarchs were as much delighted with this hyperbolical style as the Meerzâs or Secretaries. "Not at all," said he: "the late king, Aga Mahomed, who was remarkable for his hatred of ornament and show in every form, when his secretaries began with their flattering introductions, used to lose all temper, and exclaim, 'To the contents, you scoundrel.'"[36] "Flowery introductions," said the Meer, "if he had lived long enough, would have gone out of fashion; but the present king prides himself upon being a fine writer, both in prose and verse, and the consequence is, as you see in the preamble of this treaty, a composition which I know was honoured by his particular approbation."
It is but justice to some of the most distinguished Persian authors to add, that there are many exceptions to this redundant style of composition. In the pages of their greatest poets, Firdousee, Nizâmee, Sâdee, and Anwerree, we meet with many passages as remarkable for the beauty and simplicity of the expression, as the truth and elevation of the sentiments; and many of their historians have given us plain narrations of facts, unencumbered with those ornaments and metaphors which are so popular with the generality of their countrymen.
How simply and beautifully has Sâdee depicted the benefit of good society in the following well-known apologue!
"One day as I was in the bath, a friend of mine put into my hand a piece of scented clay. I took it, and said to it, 'Art thou musk or ambergris, for I am charmed with thy perfume?' It answered, 'I was a despicable piece of clay, but I was some time in the company of the rose; the sweet quality of my companion was communicated to me, otherwise I should be only a bit of clay, as I appear to be!'"
And in another[37] he has given, with equal force and simplicity, the character of true affection:—
"There was an affectionate and amiable youth who was betrothed to a beautiful girl. I have read, that as they were sailing in the great sea they fell together into a whirlpool: when a mariner went to the young man, that he might catch his hand, and save him from perishing in that unhappy juncture, he called aloud, and pointed to his mistress from the midst of the waves: 'Leave me, and save my beloved!' The whole world admired him for that speech; and when expiring, he was heard to say—'Learn not the tale of love from that wretch who forgets his beloved in the hour of danger.'"
We often meet with Persian letters written in a style at once clear and nervous. Of these there cannot be a better example than that addressed by Nizâm-ool-Moolk, the predecessor of the present Soobâh, or ruler of the Deccan, to Mahomed Shâh, the weak and luxurious Emperor of Delhi. This letter, besides the merit of its style, possesses that of conveying a just idea of what Mahomedans conceive to be the duties and pursuits of a good and great monarch, a character which is with them invariably associated with that of a military conqueror.
The following extracts from this well-known production are very literal: