OTHER WONDERS ENCOUNTERED IN
TRAVEL.
'In the name of God, the Clement, the Merciful: Behold what says the Shekh, the judge, the learned man, the truthful, the noble, the devout, the very benevolent, the guest of God; who has acquitted himself of the visit to the holy places, to the honor of religion; who, in the course of his travels, has placed his confidence in the Lord of all creatures—Abou Abdallah Mohammed, son of Abdallah, son of Ibrahim Allewatee Alhandjee, known under the name of Ibn Batuta: may God be merciful to him, and be content with him, in his great bounty and generosity! Amen.
'Praise be to God, who has subjected the earth to those who serve him, in order that they may march by spacious roads—who has placed them on the earth, and there located the three vicissitudes of their destiny: the creation, the return to the earth, and the resurrection from its bowels. He has extended it by his power, and it has become a bed for his servants. He has fixed it by means of inaccessible mountains, of considerable elevation, and has raised over it the summit of heaven, unsupported by a pillar. He has made the stars to appear as a guide in the midst of the darkness of the land and the sea; he has made a lamp of the moon, and a torch of the sun. From heaven he has caused waters to descend, which vivified the ground when it was dried up. He has made all varieties of fruits to grow, and has created diversified regions, giving them all sorts of plants. He has caused the two seas to flow—one of sweet and refreshing waters, the other salt and bitter. He has completed his bounties towards his creatures, in subjecting to them the camels, and in submitting to them the ships, similar to mountains, serving them as vehicles, instead of the surface of the desert, or the back of the sea.'
After having, in like manner, pronounced a benediction on Mohammed, the Prophet's friends, and all others in any way connected with him, he greets the Sultan of Morocco with a panegyric so dazzling, so unapproachable in the splendor of its assertions, that we must quote it as a standard whereby all similar compositions may be measured, sure that it will maintain its pre-eminence through all time.
'It is his reign (that of Abou Inau Faris) which has cured Religion of her sickness, which has caused the sword of Injustice to return into the scabbard whence it had been drawn, which has corrected fortune, when it had been corrupted, and which has procured custom for the markets of Science, formerly given up to stagnation. He has rendered manifest the rules of piety when they would have been obliterated; he has calmed the regions of the earth when they were agitated; he has caused the tradition of acts of generosity to revive after his death; he has occasioned the death of tyrannic customs; he has abated the flame of discord at the moment when it was most enkindled; he has destroyed the commands of tyranny, when they exercised an absolute power; he has elevated the edifices of equity on the pillars of the fear of God, and has assured himself, by the strongest evidences, that he possesses confidence in the Eternal. His reign possesses a glory, the crown whereof is placed on the forehead of Orion, and an illumination which covers the Milky Way with the skirts of his robe; a beneficence which has given a new youth to the age; a justice which incloses the righteous within its vast tent; a liberality similar to a cloud which waters at once the leaves that have fallen from the trees and the trees themselves; a courage which, even when the clouds shed torrents of rain, causes a torrent of blood to flow; a patience which never tires of hoping; a prudence which prevents his enemies from approaching his pastures; a resolution which puts their troops to flight before the action commences; a mildness which delights to pluck pardon from the tree of crime; a goodness which gains him all hearts; a science, the lustre whereof enlightens the darkest difficulties; a conduct conformable to his sincerity, and acts conformable to his designs!'
Let us here take a long breath, and rest a minute. O, Abou Inau Faris! we envy the blessed people that were gathered under thy wing; we weep for our degenerate age, wherein thy like is nowhere to be found. No wonder that Ibn Batuta declares that he lays aside forever his pilgrim's staff—that, after traversing the Orient, he sits down under the full moon of the Occident, preferring it to all other regions, 'as one prefers gold-dust to the sands of the highway.' We, too, had we found such a ruler, would have laid aside our staff, and taken the oath of allegiance.
The traveler gives us the day of his departure from home: June 14, 1325. 'I was alone,' says he, 'without a companion with whom I could live familiarly, without a caravan of which I could have made part; but I was forced onward by a spirit firm in its resolution, and the desire of visiting the Holy Places was implanted in my bosom. I therefore determined to separate myself from my friends of both sexes, and I abandoned my home as the birds abandon their nest. My father and mother were still alive. I resigned myself, with grief, to separate from them, and this was a common cause of sorrow. I was then in my twenty-second year.'
Having safely reached the town of Tlemeen, he found two ambassadors of the king of Tunis, about to set out on their return, and attached himself to their suite. On arriving at Bougie, he was attacked with a violent fever, and was advised to remain behind. 'No,' said the determined youth, 'if God wills that I should die, let me die on the road to Mecca,' and pushed on, through Constantina and Bona, in such a state of weakness that he was obliged to unwind his turban and bind himself to his saddle, in order to avoid falling from the horse. He thus reached Tunis, in a state of extreme exhaustion and despondency. 'No one saluted me,' says he, 'for I was not acquainted with a single person there. I was seized with such an emotion of sadness that I could not suppress my sobs, and my tears flowed in abundance. One of the pilgrims, remarking my condition, advanced towards me, saluting and comforting me. He did not cease to cheer me up with his conversation, until I had entered the city.'
In a short time, he seems to have recovered both his health and spirits; for, on reaching the town of Sefakos, he married the daughter of one of the syndics of the corporation of Tunis. This proceeding strikes us as a singular preparation for a long and dangerous journey, but it is a preliminary which would immediately suggest itself to a Mussulman of good character. In fact, it was equivalent in those days—and still would be, in some parts of the Orient—to a proclamation of his respectability. Ibn Batuta, however, was not fortunate in this matrimonial adventure. Two months afterwards, he naïvely informs us: 'There arose such a disagreement between myself and my father-in-law, that I was obliged to separate from my wife. I thereupon married the daughter of an official of Fez. The marriage was consummated at the castle of Zanah, and I celebrated it by a feast, for which I detained the caravan for a whole day.'