OF THE ANCIENT ARABS. 175 



quence of Koss was as famous and as flattering a 

 compliment as the liberality of Hatim. Their ora- 

 tions were of two sorts, metrical or prosaic. The 

 former was most esteemed and most cultivated. It 

 was the remark of Abu Teman, who compiled the 

 Hamasa, a collection of old Arabic epigrams, odes, 

 and elegies, that " fine sentiments delivered in prose 

 were like gems scattered at random ; but when con- 

 fined in poetical measure, they resembled bracelets 

 and strings of pearls."* The roving hordes of the 

 desert, living amid the solitary grandeur of nature, 

 were more remarkable for the exercise and admira- 

 tion of these intellectual endowments than their 

 civilized brethren. Their principal occasions of 

 rejoicing were the birth of a boy, the foaling of a 

 mare, the arrival of a guest, and the rise of a poet. 

 Next, if not equal, to a warrior and a fine horse, this 

 was the noblest possession a tribe could boast of. 

 The genius and merits of the youthful bard were 

 hailed with universal applause. The first-fruits of 

 his muse were commemorated by a solemn banquet, 

 where a chorus of women with musical instruments 

 sang in the presence of their sons and husbands the 

 happy fortune of his tribe. The neighbours flocked 

 to congratulate his family that a champion had ap- 

 peared to vindicate their rights ; that a herald had 

 raised his voice to record their exploits, and recom- 

 mend their virtues to posterity. 



The greatest attention was paid to the cultivation 

 of this divine art. Assemblies of diiferent kinds 



* The orientals have always been fond of imagery and meta- 

 phor. "V^Tien an orator speakjs, he begins "to weigh his stored 

 pearls in the scales of delivery ;" or, "lifting his head from the 

 collar of reflection, he removes the talisman of silence from the 

 treasure of speech, and scatters brilliant gems and princely 

 pearls in his mirth-exciting delivery." If a warrior is slain in 

 battle, " the bird of life has fled from the nest of his brain." A 

 lover says of his mistress, " that the bird of his soul has become 

 a captive in the net of her glossy ringlets." 



