The Life of Sir Richard Burton Part 26

Shortly after the announcement of his edition of the Nights, Burton received a letter from Mr. W. F. Kirby, [418] better known as an entomologist, who had devoted much study to European editions of that work, a subject of which Burton knew but little. Mr. Kirby offered to supply a bibliographical essay which could be used as an appendix.

Burton replied cordially, and this was the beginning of a very pleasant friendship. Mr. Kirby frequently corresponded with Burton, and they often met at Mr. Kirby's house, the Natural History Museum, South Kensington, or the British Museum. Says Mr. Kirby: "At the British Museum, Burton seemed more inclined to talk than to work. I thought him weak in German [419] and when I once asked him to help me with a Russian book, he was unable to do so." Thus even a Burton has his limitations.

"He told me," continues Mr. Kirby, "that he once sat between Sir Henry Rawlinson and a man who had been Amba.s.sador at St. Petersburg, and he spoke to one in Persian, and the other in Russian, but neither of them could understand him. I have never, however, been able to make up my mind whether the point of the story told against him or against them.

[420] Although Burton was a student of occult science, I could never lead him to talk about crystals or kindred subjects; and this gave me the idea that he was perhaps pledged to secrecy. Still, he related his experiences freely in print." Oddly, enough, Burton used to call Mr.

Kirby "Mr. Rigby," and he never could break himself of the habit.

"Apparently," says Mr. Kirby, "he a.s.sociated my name with that of his old opponent, Colonel, afterwards Major-General Rigby, [421] Consul at Zanzibar." In a letter of 25th March 1885, Burton asks Mr. Kirby to draw up "a full account of the known MSS. and most important European editions, both those which are copies of Galland and (especially) those which are not. It will be printed in my terminal essay with due acknowledgment of authorship." [422] On April 8th (1885) he says, "I don't think my readers will want an exhaustive bibliography, but they will expect me to supply information which Mr. Payne did not deem necessary to do in his excellent Terminal Essay. By the by, I shall totally disagree with him about Harun al Rashid and the Barmecides, [423] who were pestilent heretics and gave rise to the terrible religious trouble of the subsequent reigns. A tabular arrangement of the princ.i.p.al tales will be exceedingly useful."

Chapter XXVII. May 1885-5th Feb. 1886, A Glance through "The Arabian Nights"

Bibliography:

71. The Thousand Nights and a Night. 1st Vol. 12th September 1885. 10th Vol. 12th July 1886. 72. Il Pentamerone. (Translated--not published till 1893). 73. Iracema or Honey Lips; and Manoel de Moraes the Convert.

Translated from the Brazilian. 1886.

128. Slaving at the Athenaeum, May 1885.

In May 1885, Burton obtained leave of absence, and on arriving in England he made various arrangements about the printing of The Arabian Nights and continued the work of translation. When in London he occupied rooms at the St. James's Hotel (now the Berkeley) in Piccadilly. He used to say that the St. James's Hotel was the best place in the world in which to do literary work, and that the finest place in the whole world was the corner of Piccadilly. Still, he spent most of his time, as usual, at the Athenaeum. Mr. H. R. Tedder, the Secretary, and an intimate friend of Burton's, tells me that "He would work at the round table in the library for hours and hours--with nothing for refreshment except a cup of coffee and a box of snuff, which always stood at his side;" and that he was rarely without a heavy stick with a whistle at one end and a spike at the other--the spike being to keep away dogs when he was travelling in hot countries. This was one of the many little inventions of his own. Mr. Tedder describes him as a man of great and subtle intellect and very urbane. "He had an athletic appearance and a military carriage, and yet more the look of a literary man than of a soldier." In summer as usual he wore white clothes, the shabby old beaver, and the tie-pin shaped like a sword. Mr. Tedder summed him up as "as a compound of a Benedictine monk, a Crusader and a Buccaneer."

The Hon. Henry J. c.o.ke, looking in at the Athenaeum library one day, and noticing the "white trousers, white linen coat and a very shabby old white beaver hat," exclaimed, "Hullo Burton, do you find it so very hot?"

"I don't want," said Burton, "to be mistaken for anyone else."

"There's not much fear of that, without your clothes," followed c.o.ke.

[424]

During this holiday Burton visited most of his old friends, and often ran down to Norwood to see his sister and her daughter, while everyone remarked his brightness and buoyancy. "It was delightful," says Miss Stisted, "to see how happy he was over the success of his venture."

He had already resolved to issue six additional volumes, to be called Supplemental Nights. He would then take sixteen thousand pounds. He calculated printing and sundries as costing four thousand, and that the remainder would be net profit. As a matter of fact the expenses arose to 6,000, making the net profit 10,000 [425] Burton had wooed fortune in many ways, by hard study in India, by pioneering in Africa, by diplomacy at Court, by gold-searching in Midian and at Axim, by patent medicining.

Finally he had found it in his inkstand; but as his favourite Jami says, it requires only a twist of the pen to trans.m.u.te duvat into dulat [426]--inkstand into fortune.

Except when his father died, Burton had never before possessed so large a sum, and, at the time, it appeared inexhaustible. Bubbling over with fun, he would pretend to make a great mystery as to the Kama Shastra Society at Benares, where he declared the Nights were being printed.

129. A Visit to Mr. Arbuthnot's.

Of all the visits to be made during this holiday Burton had looked forward to none with so much pleasure as those to Mr. Arbuthnot, or "Bunny," [427] as he called him, and Mr. Payne. Mr. Arbuthnot was still living at Upper House Court, Guildford, studying, writing books, and encouraging struggling men of letters with a generosity that earned for him the name of "the English Mecaenas;" and it was there the friends discussed the publications of the Kama Shastra Society and made arrangements for the issue of fresh volumes. While the roses shook their odours over the garden, they talked of Sadi's roses, Jami's "Aromatic herbs," and "Trees of Liberality," [428] and the volume Persian Portraits, [429] which Arbuthnot, a.s.sisted by Edward Rehatsek, was at the moment preparing for the press. Among the objects at Mr. Arbuthnot's heart was, as we have said, the resuscitation of the old Oriental Translation fund, which was originally started in 1824, the Society handling it having been established by Royal Charter. A series of works had been issued between 1829 and 1879, but the funds were completely exhausted by the publication of Al Biruni's Memoirs of India, and there were no longer any subscribers to the Society. Mr. Arbuthnot now set himself a.s.siduously to revive this fund, he contributed to it handsomely himself and by his energy induced a number of others to contribute. It is still in existence, and in accordance with his suggestion is worked by the Royal Asiatic Society, though the subscriptions and donations to the Translation Fund are kept entirely separate, and are devoted exclusively to the production of translations of Oriental works, both ancient and modern. Thanks to the fund, a number of translations of various Oriental works has been issued, including volumes by Professor Cowell, Rehatsek, Miss C. M. Ridding, Dr. Gaster and Professor Rhys Davids. Its most important publication, however, is the completion of the translation of Hariri's a.s.semblies, [430] done by Steinga.s.s. [431]

130. Dr. Steinga.s.s.

Born in 1825, Dr. Steinga.s.s came to England in 1873, and after five years as Professor of Modern Languages at Wakefield Grammar School, Birmingham, was appointed Professor at the Oriental Inst.i.tute, Woking.

Though entirely self-taught, he was master of fourteen languages. [432]

His Arabic Dictionary (1884) and his Persian English Dictionary (1892) are well known, the latter being the best extant, but he will, after all, be chiefly remembered by his masterly rendering of Hariri. Dr.

Steinga.s.s presently became acquainted with Burton, for whom he wrote the article "On the Prose Rhyme and the Poetry of the Nights." [433] He also a.s.sisted Burton with the Notes, [434] supervised the MSS. of the Supplemental Volumes and enriched the last three with results of his wide reading and lexicographical experience. [435] The work of transcribing Burton's ma.n.u.script and making the copy for the press fell to a widow lady, Mrs. Victoria Maylor, a Catholic friend of Mrs. Burton.

Mrs. Maylor copied not only The Arabian Nights, but several of Burton's later works, including The Scented Garden.

131. Anecdotes.

When asked why he spent so much time and money on Orientalism, Arbuthnot gave as excuse his incompetency to do anything else. He admitted, indeed, that for the higher walks of life, such as whist and nap, he had no apt.i.tude. Occasionally at Upper House Court, politics were introduced, and Arbuthnot, a staunch Liberal in a shire of Tories, was sometimes rallied upon his opinions by the Conservative Burton and Payne. He took it all, however, as he took everything else, good humouredly, and even made some amiable attempts to convert his opponents. "His Radicalism," says Mr. Payne, amusingly, "was entirely a matter of social position and connection. He was good enough for a Tory." As usual, Burton paid a visit to Fryston, and he occasionally scintillated at Lord Houghton's famous Breakfasts in London. Once the friends were the guests of a prosperous publisher, who gave them champagne in silver goblets. "Doesn't this," said Lord Houghton, raising a b.u.mper to his lips, "make you feel as if you were drinking out of the skulls of poor devil authors?" For reply Burton tapped his own forehead.

About this time an anonymous letter of Burton's appeared in The World, but we forget upon what subject. It excited wide interest, however, and hundreds of persons wrote to Mr. Yates, the editor, for the name of the author.

"Did you see my letter in The World?" enquired Burton of Mrs. E. J.

Burton.

"The Christian World?" asked Mrs. Burton innocently.

"No," replied Burton, sharply, "The Unchristian World."

Once when Burton was present at some gathering, a missionary caused a shudder to run through the company by saying that he had had the dreadful experience of being present at a cannibal feast. The cannibals, he said, brought in their prisoner, butchered him, cut him up, and handed the pieces round smoking hot. With his curious feline laugh, Burton enquired, "Didn't they offer you any?" "They did," replied the missionary, "but of course I refused." "What a fool you were," cried Burton, "to miss such a unique opportunity."

132. The Pentameron. Burton and Gladstone.

We must next record a visit to Mr. Payne, who then resided in London.

Burton talked over his projects, and said that he had been wondering what book to take up after the completion of The Nights. "I think," said he, "I shall fix upon Boccaccio next."

"My dear boy," followed Mr. Payne, "I've just done him." [436] As his poem "Salvestra" shows, Mr. Payne's mind had for long been running on "that sheaf of flowers men call Decameron." His brilliant translation was, indeed, already in the press, and it appeared the following year in three volumes.

"You are taking the bread out of my mouth," commented Burton plaintively.

"But," continued Mr. Payne, "there is another work that I thought of doing--The Pentameron, [437] by Giambattista Basile, and if you care to take my place I will not only stand aside but lend you the materials collected for the purpose." Burton, who had some knowledge of the Neapolitan dialect but had never met with the work referred to, welcomed the idea; and as soon as he had finished the Nights he commenced a translation of The Pentameron, which, however, was not published until after his death. His rendering, which cannot be praised, was aptly described by one of the critics as "an uncouth performance." Burton also told Payne about the proposed Ariosto translation, and they discussed that too, but nothing was done.

On July 19th 1885, the Burtons lunched with Lord Houghton--"our common Houghton," as Mr. Swinburne used to call him; and found his lordship unwell, peevish, and fault-finding. He had all the trials of the successful man who possesses everything that wealth can purchase or the mind conceive.

"Good-bye, my dear old friend," cried Burton, when parting, "Would that I could share your troubles with you!" [438]