of his age. He spent
his life in travelling from country to country, that he might gather the
opinions of philosophers upon the great secrets of nature. No danger
dismayed him; no toil wearied him of the pursuit. Many sovereigns
endeavoured to retain him at their courts; but he refused to rest until he
had discovered the great object of his life--the art of preserving it for
centuries, and of making gold as much as he needed. This wandering mode of
life at last proved fatal to him. He had been on a visit to Mecca, not so
much for religious as for philosophical purposes, when, returning through
Syria, he stopped at the court of the Sultan Seifeddoulet, who was
renowned as the patron of learning. He presented himself in his travelling
attire in the presence of that monarch and his courtiers; and, without
invitation, coolly sat himself down on the sofa beside the prince. The
courtiers and wise men were indignant; and the sultan, who did not know
the intruder, was at first inclined to follow their example. He turned to
one of his officers, and ordered him to eject the presumptuous stranger
from the room; but Alfarabi, without moving, dared them to lay hands upon
him; and, turning himself calmly to the prince, remarked, that he did not
know who was his guest, or he would treat him with honour, not with
violence. The sultan, instead of being still further incensed, as many
potentates would have been, admired his coolness; and, requesting him to
sit still closer to him on the sofa, entered into a long conversation with
him upon science and divine philosophy. All the court were charmed with
the stranger. Questions for discussion were propounded, on all of which he
shewed superior knowledge. He convinced every one who ventured to dispute
with him; and spoke so eloquently upon the science of alchymy, that he was
at once recognised as only second to the great Geber himself. One of the
doctors present inquired whether a man who knew so many sciences was
acquainted with music? Alfarabi made no reply, but merely requested that a
lute should be brought him. The lute was brought; and he played such
ravishing and tender melodies, that all the court were melted into tears.
He then changed his theme, and played airs so sprightly, that he set the
grave philosophers, sultan and all, dancing as fast as their legs could
carry them. He then sobered them again by a mournful strain, and made them
sob and sigh as if broken-hearted. The sultan, highl