est
of all men.

"I, Mirza-Schaffy," said he to his pupil, "am the first wise man
of the East, consequently thou, as my disciple, art the second. But
misunderstand me not. I have a friend, Omar Effendi, an extremely wise
man, who verily is not third among the learned scribes of the land.
Did not I live, and were Omar Effendi thy teacher, he would be first,
and thou the second wise man."

On being asked what he should do if told that the wise men of the West
would consider him as deficient in enlightenment as he did them, he
rejoined, "What could I do but be amazed at their folly? What new
thing can I learn from their opinions when they merely repeat my own?"
Hence the song:

Shall I laugh or fall to wailing
That the most of men so dumb are,
Ever borrowed thoughts retailing,
And in mother-wit so mum are?

No: thanksgiving heavenward rise
That fools so crowd this generation,
Else the wisdom of the wise
Would be lost to observation.

Numerous rivals envied Mirza-Schaffy his lessons, for each of which
he was paid a whole silver ruble--an unusually high tuition-fee. Most
formidable among these was Mirza-Jussuf (Joseph), the wise man of
Bagdad, who called one day on Bodenstedt and boldly informed him that
the revered Mirza-Schaffy was an Ischekj ("an ass") among the bearers
of wisdom--that he could not write properly, and could not sing
at all. "And what is wisdom without song?" he exclaimed. "What is
Mirza-Schaffy compared with me?" With bewildering eloquence he set
forth his own superior accomplishments, dwelling largely on his name,
which had been exalted by the Hebrew poet Moses as well as by
the Persian poet Hafiz, and exerting himself to prove that the
significance of a great name must be transmitted to all future bearers
thereof. He was still speaking when a measured tread was heard in
the ante-chamber, and Mirza-Schaffy himself drew near. He appeared to
comprehend intuitively the cause of the guest's presence, for he cast
on Jussuf, who had become suddenly stricken with modesty, a glance
of withering contempt, and was about giving vent to his emotions when
Bodenstedt interposed with the words, "Mirza-Schaffy, wise man of
Gjaendsha, what have my ears heard? You undertake to instruct me, and
you can neither write nor sing! You are an Ischekj among the bearers
of wisdom: thus sayeth Mirza-Jussuf, the wise man of Bagdad."

Without deigning a word of reply, Mirza-Schaffy clapped his hands