[205] Milton’s Paradise Lost, XII. v. 458-464.
PART III.
CONCLUSION.
§ General appreciation of the Dabistan and its Author.
Mohsan Fáni collected in the Dabistán, as I hope to have shown by a rapid review of its principal contents, various important information concerning religions of different times and countries. His accounts are generally clear, explicit, and deserving confidence; they agree in the most material points with those of other accredited authors. Thus, to quote one more instance, the accuracy of his topographic information relative to the marvellous fountain in Kachmir is in the main confirmed by that published by Bernier who had visited the country. Our author enlivens his text by interesting quotations from the works of famous poets and philosophers, and by frequent references to books which deserve to be known. I beg to mention the Tabsaret al âvam, “Rendering quick-sighted the Vulgar,” which he regrets not to have before his eyes. His whole work is interspersed with anecdotes and sayings, characteristic of individuals and sects which existed in his times. To what he relates from personal observation or other sources, he frequently adds reflections of his own, which evince a sagacious and enlightened mind. Thus, he exhibits in himself an interesting example of Asiatic erudition and philosophy.
The Dabistán adds, if I am not mistaken, not only a few ideas to our historical knowledge, but also some features to the picture which we hitherto possessed of the Asiatics. May I be permitted to quote a remarkable instance relative to the latter? We are wont to speak of the inherent apathy and stationary condition of the Muhammedans, as an effect of their legislation. Although this general idea of their character and state be not unfounded, yet it is carried to such an exaggerated degree, that we think them incapable of progress. We may therefore be astonished to find in the work before us[206] a maxim such as this: “He who does not proceed, retrogrades,” and beside a declaration attributed to Muhammed himself: “He whose days are alike is deceived.” Our author, it is true, interprets it in the particular point of view of an orthodox Súfi, who thinks that there is a degree of mental perfection, beyond which it is impossible to rise: this was, he says, the state of Muhammed, the prophet, always the same, from which no ascent nor descent was possible, the perfection of unity with God, higher than whom nothing can be: the blackness beyond which no color can go. With the exception of these fits of mysticism, now and then occurring, it is just to say that Mohsan Fani most commonly leans to the side of progressive reform.
For the just appreciation of his work, I think it necessary to point out another opinion, which, very generally entertained, requires to be considerably modified: I mean that which attributes to the Muhammedans an unrestrained intolerance in religious matters. On that account, I beg to refer directly to the book, which to them always was the sacred source of all rules and precepts of conduct—the Koran. In this astonishing farrago of truth and falsehood, we find here and there a great extent of toleration. In fact, Muhammedism was eclectic in all the religious ideas of its time, Magian, Jewish, and Christian. Muhammed avowed himself to be “a man like every body;”[207] he did not pretend, that “the treasures of God were in his power,” nor did he say “that he knew the secrets of God, neither that he was an angel; no; he thought only to follow what was revealed to him,”[208] so much every body else may say and think, He professed his good-will to Christians, “as inclinable to entertain friendship for the true believers;[209] he exhorted his followers not to dispute, but in the mildest manner,[210] against those who have received the Scripture, and wished to come to a just determination between both parties, that they all worshipped not any but God.”[211]—“Abraham,” said he, “was neither a Jew nor a Christian, but one resigned unto God (Moslim); excellence is in the hand of God; he gives it unto whom he pleaseth.”[212]—Still more; the prophet seems to give a general license to the professors of every religion to observe certain rites about which he prohibits all disputes;[213] nay, he declares: “If the Lord had pleased, verily, all who are in the earth would have believed in general. Wilt thou therefore forcibly compel men to be true believers? No soul can believe but by the permission of God.”[214]
Although the Arabian prophet and his followers too often gave by their conduct a strong denial to these principles, still the existence of them in the Koran was a sanction to all those who were disposed to profess them in words and actions. Such sentiments of religious toleration are in accordance with similar ones expressed in many Christian moral treatises, but in none of the latter do I remember to have read: “that the diversities of religions distributed among nations, according to the exigency of each, are manifestations of the divine light and power, and that these various forms, by which God’s inscrutable essence may be viewed by glimpses, are means of possessing eternal beatitude, whilst here below the acquisition of knowledge is sufficient to insure to mankind the enjoyment of concord, friendship, and agreeable intercourse.”[215]
These appear to be the maxims adopted by the Súfis, and particularly by those among them who, under Akbar, professed to be Ilahians. The creed of this class exists in our days, although the name has not survived. To these we may suppose, if to any, Mohsan Fáni belonged. If we could agree with Erskine that “he was in strict intimacy with the sect of enthusiasts by whom the Desátir was venerated,” we should still be obliged to avow, that his enthusiasm had not in the least influenced his free judgment upon religious matters. His imagination although justly exalted by sublime notions of the Divinity, certainly appears now and then bewildered by the mysterious action of unknown causes; but on other occasions pointing out, in a satirical vein, so many follies, absurdities, and extravagances prevailing among mankind, he seems to laugh at all enthusiasm whatsoever, his own not excepted. In general, there breathes in his words a spirit of independence, which would command attention even among us in the accustomed circle of long-established liberty. His boldness in religious controversy startled even sir W. Jones so much that, in characterising it by the harsh term of blasphemy, the English judge appears for a moment ready to plead for the abettors of popular superstition, who stood confounded before the tribunal of the philosophic Akbar.