"Hear then the book called Mitralaba; or, The Acquisition of Friends, of which this is the first verse:

"Without equipage, without wealth, yet wise, and united by friendship, the crow, the tortoise, the antelope, and the rat, performed great actions with celerity."

This fable of The Crow and many Friends continues through the whole of the first book, but is agreeably broken by the insertion of others, which are used by the dramatis persone to enforce the advice that they interchange, and in which secondary tales man is sometimes introduced as the actor, with the same effect as is produced on him by the animal performers, who usually hold the first rank in fable. There is sometimes a difficulty in following the intricacies of the interwoven stories. But they are all auxiliaries in bringing about the moral, which, like the result of an algebraic equation, appears the more clear and satisfactory in proportion to the confusion of the parts from which it is deduced. The last instance of the value of friendship, is when the tortoise has been seized and bound by a hunter. The antelope, the crow, and the rat, plot the deliverance of their friend. The antelope lies down motionless, as if dead, and the crow pretends to be engaged in picking out its eyes; and while the hunter runs eagerly to secure the venison, the rat (whose teeth have been throughout the tale actively employed in similar duties of friendship) gnaws asunder the bonds of the tortoise, who immediately took to its pool, while the crow flew, and the antelope and rat ran away, and the hunter, who "had left things certain and pursued things uncertain," was a prey to the vexation of disappointment. The princes then said, with delight, "the happy union of these friends will contribute to our improvement."

The second book, in contrast with the first, illustrates the unhappiness caused by the breach of friendship. Vishnusarman gives the argument of his second fable thus: "The great and increased friendship of the lion and the bull in the forest was broken by an artful and covetous shakàl." A bull who had been deserted by his master in the woods, after terrifying the king of beasts by his loud bellowing, became his chief confident and prime minister. But as envy is constantly attendant on the sudden rise of beast as well as man, the rapid advancement of the new favorite roused the jackals Caratacà and Damànacà, the sons of a former minister, to endeavour to supplant him in their sovereign's good graces. As the lion is meant to exemplify the character of a king unjust towards a meritorious servant, so the jackals are apt symbols of time-serving courtiers, and as such are continually brought forward in these fables. Their ambition is not even curbed by the knowledge they seem to have gained from experience, of the perpetual misery of those

who put their trust in princes. One of them thus observes on the difficulty the courtier finds in pleasing his monarch.

"If he be silent, he is called a fool; if eloquent, a madman or a prattler; at hand, an artful fellow; at a distance, a bad attendant; if patient, a coward; if he cannot endure bad treatment, an arrant rascal': the duty of a servant is extremely hard, and not performable even by saints!"

The other is no less aware, in the midst of his plot of ambition, of the inadequate motives which sometimes direct monarchs in choosing from their subjects the ministers of their power.

"A prince," says he, "favours a man who is nearest to him, though void of learning, of rank, and of probity.”

And again:

"A king, a woman, and a creeping plant, alike twine round him who stands by their side."

By artful misrepresentations, the jackals succeed in infusing a dark suspicion of his favorite into the royal mind; the fatal consequence of which was, that when the bull approached the monarch, for the purpose of obtaining an audience, his gracious master flew on him and tore him in pieces. "You have heard," said Vishnusarman, "how friends are disunited." "We have heard it," said the princes," with great delight."

In the third and fourth books the author, who appears in the original work to have framed his system for the exclusive instruction of royalty, describes the philosopher as being prevailed on by his pupils to discourse on "war" and "peace." One fable runs through them both. In the former, the geese and peacocks wage a bloody war, which is brought happily to a peaceable termination in the latter. Here, as indeed throughout all the books, the main story is almost lost amidst the interlacings of the several narrations that encumber, at the same time that they adorn it. The young princes do not seem to have found any fault with this intricate arrangement, and at the close they gratefully exclaim, "We comprehend this perfect system of royal duties through thy favor, and are made happy, O venerable sage! by thy knowledge." The sage then concludes the whole with this wish and benediction.

"Let all kings make peace when they have gained a victory, and may their joy be perpetual! May the virtuous live without misfortune! and may the celebrity of those who have performed good actions continue for ever increasing! May virtue display her beauties like a beloved mistress on your bosom! May she kiss your lips, and live with you long attended by the fame of universal benevolence! And may the burden-bearing earth, attended with fresh seasons, remain for your gratification!"

We have seen that the Hitopades professes to be extracted from some more ancient works; but it is not quite certain that we are to consider the Panchatantra as one of them. We will not pretend to compare the respective antiquity of two books, of which so little is known, though we may be allowed to observe that the circumstance which Mr. Colebrooke himself states, of the greater conciseness of the Hitopades, is, in some degree, an argument for its earlier date. One thing may be maintained as perfectly clear, that the origin of these fables is Indian and not Persian. It is true that the oldest edition to which Pilpay's Fables can be lineally traced is the Arabic, which is said to have been translated from the long-lost Pehlevi, the ancient language of Persia; but as nothing remains of this last named work, the clue to any further discovery seemed entirely lost, and the story, which has been handed down, of the surreptitious acquisition of these tales, from the more distant parts of India, bore the suspicious marks of Eastern invention. But the recesses of Sanscrit literature, which, to the honour of England, have been so successfully explored by our countrymen, have yielded, in the two copies of these fables which we have just noticed, a strong addition to the traditionary evidence for the descent of Pilpay from a Hindoo parentage. If any additional confirmation of this pedigree be required, it may be found in what is omitted as well as what is inserted in the Arabic. It has been observed that there is no allusion to the religion of the Persians. No notice is taken of the worship of fire, nor of Ormuzd and Ahriman, the principles of good and evil, nor of the many peculiarities of Magism, which Anquetil du Perron has made familiar to the world by the publication of the Zend Avesta. Neither is there any mention of the first Kings of Iran, or of the wars of Alexander and Darius, which have been the perpetual theme of all the authors of that country in verse and prose. On the contrary, the names of the actors, whether men or animals, are all Indian, and though the subject of religion and religious ceremonies seems carefully excluded, which would not be the case if the composition were Persian, yet in the refusal of a jackal to eat any living animal, (slight as the circumstance is) may be confidently said, that, the vestiges of Hindoo scrupulosity are plainly discernible.

it

The Pehlevi version, the first that was made from the sacred language, is no longer in existence. Still, its history, which is not lost, forms an important link in the chain of evidence by which the different translations are connected with the Sanscrit original. On this occasion, the example was given of altering and modifying the primary arrangement, and of adding what was deemed necessary to adapt to general use

the morality, which was at first intended only for royal instruction. We learn, from a Persian author, and if the fact were not established by his authority, we might judge from the preface to this version, which we possess in an Arabic dress, that the Pehlevi translator made that the first chapter of his work, which holds the second place in the Sanscrit. From this circumstance, it is not difficult to explain the title Calilah and Dimnah which he invented, and which must be considered as a corruption of Caràtaca and Damanacà, the principal speakers in the second fable of the author, from whom he copied. This corrupted title, it may be added, has been preserved in the Arabic and early Persian editions. As the account of his discovery of this repository of Indian wisdom is now generally allowed to be authentic, we will here give an abstract of it as it is found in one of the introductory chapters of the Arabic version.

Nushirvan the Just, whom the Greeks called Chosroes, a great patron of learning, contemporary with Mahomet, having heard of a "book of wisdom" which was secreted, with jealous care, in the treasury of the King of Hindostan, commanded his minister, Buzurjmihr, to seek out a man learned in the Persian and Hindoo tongues. The minister named Barzouieh the Philosopher, who in a former journey to that country had mastered its almost unknown language. The king sent him, with instructions to procure this and any other books of value which he should discover. The philosopher, on his arrival, introduced himself to the acquaintance and friendship of the Indian sages, and at length prevailed on one, with whom he had contracted a great intimacy, to gain him access to the precious deposit. His friend allowed him to take it from its hiding-place, and he employed himself laboriously day and night on the translation, dreading that the removal of the volume from the royal treasury should be discovered before his task was completed. On his return, he presented the fruits of his labour to his king, who received him very honourably, and caused him to read his performance in the midst of his assembled court. The courtiers congratulated their master on the acquisition of so great a blessing to the country, and the monarch showered his gifts in profusion on the successful traveller. Barzouieh ventured to present what he called "a slight request, in the fulfilment of which there would be great reward." The king ordered him to make known his wishes, and promised to grant all he asked, to the half of his kingdom. The sage, taking courage, said:

"My request is, that the king, whom God exalt, inay command his minister to write the history of my life, and that it may be placed

before the chapter of the lion and the bull, that I and my family may reach the height of honour, and that our fame may continue for ever wherever this book shall be read."

His petition was granted, and the first variation in the work, which has been followed by so many others in the subsequent versions, was caused by prefixing this life to Barzouieh's translation. This edition has, however, utterly disappeared, and the language in which it was written, though once a dialect of Persia, had so entirely vanished, that one of the most remarkable discoveries in the literary department of modern research, is that by which the learned Baron De Sacy* has recovered its alphabet from some ancient inscriptions which had long defied the ingenuity of a succession of travellers.

Abdallah ben Almokaffa, who died in the year of the Hejirah 139, (the seven hundred and fifty-seventh of our era,) rendered these fables from the Pehlevi into Arabic, under its new title of Calilah and Dimnah. He was an eminent poet, and is, also, remembered as the translator of the ancient records relating to the remote periods of the Persian history, from which Ferdusi, the Homer of the East, drew the materials of his great poem the Shah-Nameh. The manuscripts of this version of Pilpay differ in so extraordinary a manner, that its learned editor can only account for the multiplicity of the variations by imputing them to the wanton interpolations of the copyists. He introduces, in emulation of his predecessor, a preface of his own, in which he has invented the tale of the composition of the work by the sage Biapai, in order to gratify the vanity of Dabshelim, his sovereign. This king, who is said to have succeeded Porus, after his defeat by Alexander, had thrown the Brahmin Bidpai into a dungeon, for daring to volunteer his comments on the impolitic line of conduct into which he had been led by the pride of dominion. Struck, however, with remorse, when ruminating on his violent courses and on his vindictive return for the holy man's admonitions, he resolved to make him a royal amends, and raised him at once, like another Joseph, from a prison to the first rank in the empire, and forced on the unwilling eremite the chief administration of the affairs of his kingdom. Dabshelim, with the assistance of his new minister, overcame all his enemies; but dreading the short-lived fame which attends the memory of unlettered princes, carent quia vate sacro, and ambitious to share the praise lavished on all former royal patrons of literature, commanded Bidpai to compose a book of morals directed to the

See his "Memoires sur diverses Antiquités de la Perse," 4to. Paris, 1793.