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      Series:Library
 
      Author:Jackson, Abraham V. Williams
 
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      'From Yezd's eternal Mansion of the 
      Fire.’-- MOORE, Lalla Rookh.
 
      Situated amid a sea of sand which 
      threatens to ingulf it, Yezd is a symbolic home for the isolated band of 
      Zoroastrians that still survives the surging waves of Islam that swept 
      over Persia with the Mohammedan conquest twelve hundred years ago. 
      Although exposed to persecution and often in danger from storms of 
      fanaticism, this isolated religious community, encouraged by the buoyant 
      hope characteristic of its faith, has been able to keep the sacred flame 
      of Ormazd alive and to preserve the ancient doctrines and religious rites 
      of its creed. 
      When the Arab hosts unfurled the green 
      banner with the crescent and swept over the land of Iran with cry of 
      Allah, shout of Mohammed, proclamation of the Koran, fire, sword, 
      slaughter, enforced conversion, or compulsory banishment, a mighty change 
      came over Persia. The battlegrounds of Kadisia and Nihavand decided not 
      Iran’s fate alone, but Iran’s faith. Ahura Mazda, Zarathushtra, and the 
      Avesta ceased almost to be known, the temple consecrated to fire became a 
      sacrifice to its own flame, and the gasp of the dying Magian's voice was 
      drowned by the call of the Muezzin to prayer on the top of the minaretted 
      mosque. 
        
        
          
            |  |  
            | Scene in Yezd |  
      In a way the Moslem creed was easy of 
      acceptance for Persia, since Mohammed himself had adopted elements from 
      Zoroastrianism to unite with Jewish and Christian tenets in making up his 
      religion. The Persian, therefore, under show of reason or exercise of 
      force, could be led to exchange Ormazd for Allah, to acknowledge Mohammed, 
      instead of Zoroaster, as the true prophet of later days, and to accept the 
      Koran as the inspired word of God that supplanted the Avesta. The 
      conqueror’s sword, inscribed with holy texts in arabesques, contributed 
      its share, no doubt, to making all this possible, but many a Gabar 
      stubbornly refused to give up his belief, and consequently sealed his 
      faith with his blood. The few that sought religious liberty by accepting 
      exile in India became the ancestors of the modern Parsis of Bombay, so 
      often spoken of already; but the rest of the scanty handful that escaped 
      the perils of the Mohammedan conquest found a desert home at Yezd and in 
      the remote city of Kerman, not to mention the straggling few that are 
      found elsewhere in Persia, to prove the exception to the now universal 
      rule of Islam in Iran. 
      Almost immediately after my arrival at 
      Yezd I inquired for the home of Kalantar Dinyar Bahram, the head of the 
      Zoroastrian community, which numbers between 8000 and 8500 in the city and 
      its environs,[1] 
      but it took me some time to find his house. For nearly two hours my tired 
      mules and donkeys threaded their way through dusty, crooked lanes, across 
      camel filled squares, and in and out of closing bazaars, until we reached 
      the Kalantar’s door just as the sun was going down. The dwelling was 
      unpretentious on the outside, as all Persian houses are. Several servants 
      answered the summons of my man, who announced the arrival of a farangi, 
      and I was then ushered into a large, oblong room carpeted with fine 
      Persian rugs. The walls of the apartment were almost without decoration, 
      and the furnishing was confined chiefly to divans and cushions, as in many 
      Oriental dwellings; but on one side there were arranged in Occidental 
      manner a table and some chairs, made and upholstered after European 
      models. The front of the room seemed almost open to the air, because of 
      the broad doorways and deep windows that ran from floor to ceiling and 
      looked out upon a covered veranda and a court which enclosed a pretty 
      garden with roses and potted plants. My Gabar host entered the room a few 
      minutes later.   
        
        
          
            |  |  
            | The Reservoir in the 
            Meidan at Yezd |  
      He was a man somewhat over fifty years of 
      age, with a roundish face and grizzled beard, and was dressed in a robe of 
      grayish cloth with a large white cotton sash about his waist. Upon his 
      head he wore the low rolled turban which is characteristic of the Persian 
      Zoroastrians; I had seen the same style of headgear worn by an Iranian 
      priest from Kerman when I was in Bombay. With genuine courtesy and 
      manifest cordiality my host extended a welcome, and turned aside with a 
      light touch the apologies I offered for my dusty appearance and for 
      entering his room wearing riding-leggings- as one has to do often in 
      Persia. In the best Farsi phrases that I could command I explained the 
      purpose of my visit. In Eastern fashion he immediately placed his house 
      and his all at my disposal, and this I found to be no empty phrase of 
      courtesy in his case, even though I could not accept the generous 
      invitation to lodge under his roof, because I had already promised to be 
      the guest of the English missionaries. 
      As soon as the Kalantar learned in more 
      detail the reason for my coming to Yezd, he sent for a member of the 
      community named Khodabakhsh Bahram Ra'is, who had studied in Bombay and 
      spoke English fluently, and who was known in Yezd as 'Master’ because of 
      his attainments. The style of dress of this scholar was similar to the 
      Kalantar's, even in the waistband and turban, and his features were of the 
      same general cast, although somewhat sharper. The nose, as in the case of 
      all the Persian Zoroastrians that I met, was rather prominent, but well 
      shaped. In manner he was modest and courtly, and his face lighted up when 
      he recognized the name he had heard from common friends in Bombay, where 
      my Zoroastrian interests were known. He held a hurried consultation with 
      the Kalantar, and they at once proposed a plan for a conference on the 
      morrow with the High Priest and with the spiritual and secular leaders of 
      the Zoroastrian community, setting the time in Persian fashion at so many 
      hours ‘after sunrise.’ Gifts of flowers were brought in and presented to 
      me as a sign of welcome, and the hospitality of supper was extended in 
      Zoroastrian style. 
      At this meal the host himself declined to 
      take a seat at the table, but moved about, standing now at the doorway and 
      again withdrawing to give directions, but returning to see them carried 
      out. He explained that this was regarded among his people as the true 
      manner of hospitality in olden times, when the master of the house was 
      supposed to be ever ready to serve his guests in person, and he thought 
      that I would best like to have the time-honored custom observed. The 
      number of dishes was perhaps ancient Median in its variety, rather than 
      early Persian -in other words, the abundance of Astyages and not the 
      frugality of his grandson Cyrus, if we may accept the picture in 
      Xenophon’s Greek romance as accurate. A hearty broth as first course mas 
      followed by lamb, vegetables, and some dishes characteristic of Yezd, with 
      sweetmeats and tea for dessert and some mild wine such as ‘ the house of 
      the Magian' produced in the days of Hafiz. To converse at table was, I 
      knew, contrary to the Avestan code, but I preferred not to observe this 
      prescription, even in the house of a Zoroastrian, as I wished to use every 
      possible moment to learn more concerning the interesting people among whom 
      I had come. We talked about matters of home life among the Zoroastrians, 
      the size of their community, their relations with Kerman and the 
      communication they had with their coreligionists in India, until i t was 
      time for me to leave for the English Mission, where I found a hearty 
      welcome awaiting me. 
      At an early hour the next morning I 
      returned again to the house of my Zoroastrian host. The Anjuman, or synod 
      of leading men in the Gabar community, was assembled to the number of 
      eighteen. The Chief Priest, Dastur-I Dasturan, who was named Namdar, 
      happened t o be absent in India at the time, but the Acting High Priest, 
      Tir Andaz, who was his father-in-law, was at home and entered the assembly 
      a few minutes later. He was a tall, handsome man, dressed in robes of pure 
      white, and his flowing beard of snow lent the dignity of age to his kindly 
      face. A brownish turban set off his dark, intelligent eyes, which had the 
      gleam of youth and were in keeping with his manly frame, erect bearing, 
      and clear voice.  
      The formal reception in Oriental manner 
      now began, and I was reminded of the description in the Zartusht Namah of 
      the ceremonies when Zoroaster first appeared before his patron Vishtaspa. 
      Settees and chairs mere placed in a large open hall that faced upon the 
      garden court. They were arranged in the form of a widespread V, in much 
      the same manner as in the council of Ormazd described in the old Iranian 
      Bundahishn.[2] 
      I was formally conducted to a seat a t the apex of this V. My host took 
      the place on the right, the High Priest sat on the left; the other members 
      of the assembly were arranged in order of seniority or rank. When all were 
      seated there was a moment’s pause. Then those sitting on the right turned 
      toward me and made a solemn bow, to which I responded; the same salutation 
      was formally repeated on the left. A servant next entered with a tray of 
      confectionery, a ewer of rose-water, and a hand-mirror. From the 
      hospitality of the Parsis in India, I was familiar with the rose-water and 
      sugar candy, but I had not previously seen the mirror used in ceremonies, 
      although I was told it was an old Zardushtian custom in receiving a guest. 
      My momentary embarrassment was relieved when the mirror wits handed to the 
      High Priest. He looked gravely into it, slowly stroked his white beard, on 
      which he poured a few drops of rose-water, and then with perfect dignity 
      passed the glass to the next, who did likewise, and so did the others. The 
      sugared bonbons, for which the Zoroastrians of Yezd are renowned, proved 
      very refreshing and served to satisfy that craving for sweets which is 
      felt by travelers in hot and dry climates. Meanwhile a number of the 
      company regaled themselves with snuff, as there seems t o be no objection 
      to the use of tobacco in that manner, but only to its being smoked, as 
      that is regarded as a defilement of the fire. 
      The formalities finished, the real 
      conference began, and for three or more hours I asked and answered 
      questions relating to Zoroaster and his faith, and concerning the 
      condition of his followers in Persia. Two manuscripts of the Avesta and 
      some fragments were first shown me. One of these was a fine large copy of 
      the Vendidad Sadah, seen by Professor E. G. Browne, when he visited Yezd 
      in 1888; the other was a text of the Yasna. The copy of the Vendidad Sadah 
      was much the older of the two, and was said to date back about three 
      hundred years. The Yasna manuscript belonged to the middle of the last 
      century. The third text, incomplete, was a good transcript of the Vishtasp 
      Yasht, which is a comparatively late compilation devoted to the praise of 
      Zoroaster's patron and other worthies of the religion. These were all the 
      manuscripts that could be produced at the moment, and the best-informed 
      members of the assembly stated that all their more important manuscripts 
      had been sent to India for safe-keeping or for use, and they feared that 
      the chances of obtaining hitherto unknown copies were growing yearly less.[3] 
       I urged upon them the importance of making a careful search, especially 
      among the older families, who might possibly have texts that had not found 
      their way to Bombay, and I have since corresponded with them on the 
      subject; but I am hardly more sanguine about the results of the search 
      than was Westergaard, who visited Yezd and Kerman in 1843.
      
      [4] 
      The members of the assemblage naturally ascribed the loss of their texts 
      largely to the persecutions that followed after the Moslem conquest, an 
      instance of which I gathered from an oral tradition current among them. It 
      is worth repeating. 
      About a century and a half after the Arab 
      conquest, or more accurately in the year A.D.820, there was a Mohammedan 
      governor of Khorasan, named Tahir, who was the founder of the Taharid 
      dynasty and was called ‘the Ambidextrous' (Zu'l-Yaminein). He was a 
      bigoted tyrant, and his fanaticism against the Zoroastrians and their 
      scriptures knew no bounds. A Musulman who was originally descended from a 
      Zoroastrian family made an attempt to reform him and laid before him a 
      copy of the book of good counsel, Andarz-I Buzurg-Mihr, named from the 
      precepts given by Buzurg-Mihr, the prime minister of Anushirvan the Just, 
      and he asked the governor for permission to translate it into Arabic for 
      his royal master’sedification.[5] 
      Tahir exclaimed, 'Do books of the Magians still exist?’ On receiving an 
      affirmative answer, he issued an edict that every Zoroastrian should bring 
      to him a man (about fourteen pounds) of Zoroastrian and Parsi books, in 
      order that all these books might be burned, and he concluded his mandate 
      with the order that any one who disobeyed should be put to death. As my 
      informant added, it may well be imagined how many Zoroastrians thus lost 
      their lives, and what a number of valuable works were lost to the world 
      through this catastrophe. A variation of the story, but told of Tahir’s 
      son, named Abdullah (A.D. 828-840), and applied to the romance of Vamik 
      and 'Adhra,which is described in its title as ' a pleasing story (khub 
      hikayat) compiled by sages and dedicated to King Anushirvan ' (A.D. 
      531-579), is given by the Persian biographer Daulatshah in his literary 
      notices.' The story as it exists today among the Zoroastrians is an 
      interesting illustration of their pertinacity in keeping up the tradition 
      regarding the loss of much of their literature after the Mohammedan 
      conquest as well as during the invasion of ' Alexander the Accursed.'[6] 
      Inquiries regarding legends of Zoroaster 
      did not result in bringing out anything particularly new, but it was 
      interesting to obtain their views on some of the debated questions in 
      connection with the prophet's life. Zoroaster, they believe, came from Rei, 
      the ancient ruined city of Ragha near Teheran, long associated with his 
      mother's name.[7] 
      They knew nothing of the tradition that connects him with Urumiah.[8] 
      They associate his home, or rather his father's house, which is said in 
      the Vendidad to have been located on the Drejya, Darejya, or Daraj, with 
      the region about the river Karaj on the road from Teheran to Kazvin. The 
      village, they said, corresponds to the modern Kalak near the Karaj River 
      which flows from the mountain Paitizbara, as they interpret the words 
      puiti zaaruhi in the Avestan text.[9] 
      The resemblance between the letters D and K in Avestan Darejya, Drejya, 
      Phl. Dareji, Pers. Daraj, if written in the ancient script, does make this 
      ingenious comparison seem plausible for a moment, especially as the river 
      Karaj itself, a photograph of which I took three weeks later when I 
      crossed it, also shows precipitous banks that would answer to the 
      conditions supposed to be required by the phrase paiti zbarahi in the 
      Vendidad; 
      
      [10] 
      but in spite of this the identification seems fanciful, and I have given 
      reasons elsewhere for believing that the river Darejya, Drejya of the 
      Avesta, is the modern Daryai in Azarbaijan.[11] 
      I may add in passing that a number of persons in the assembly knew that 
      Zoroaster’s name was associated by tradition with the city of Balkh in 
      eastern Iran. 
        
        
          
            |  |  
            | The Zoroastrian 
            Anjuman at Yezd |  
      For Zoroaster’s name, which appears in 
      the Avesta as Zarathushtra and in Modern Persian as Zartuaht or Zarduaht, 
      which is believed in reality to mean some sort of a camel (Bv. ushtra, see 
      p. 89, above) they offered nearly a dozen fantastical interpretations or 
      attempted etymologies. Dastur Tir Andaz, after the Oriental manner, 
      suggested that the name, if divided as Zartusht, might be explained as 
      ‘pure gold,’ or ‘washed gold,’ as if the latter element were connected 
      with shustan, ‘to wash.’ Another member of the company proposed ‘enemy of 
      gold,’ as if the final member of Zar-duaht were dushman, ‘foe.’ Finally my 
      host turned to the lithographed book that he held in his hand, and which 
      seemed to be a compendium of the various Persian and Arabic writers who 
      mention Zoroaster and are already known to Western scholars.
      
      
      [12] 
      The work contained no less than nine different explanations, part of them 
      cited from Persian lexicographical works, and I subsequently learned that 
      it was handed down by Farzanah Bahram ibn Farhad, a disciple of Azar 
      Keivan, who lived in the time of Akbar the Great, about A.D. 1600.
      
      
      [13] 
      The value of the book was most highly thought of by my best informed 
      critic, Khodabakhsh Ra’is, who referred to it as an imaginative work and 
      branded the etymologies as ‘ fanciful and invented by the disciples of the 
      aforesaid Azar Keivan, who was a half-Brahman, half-Zoroastrian, a 
      believer in metempsychosis.’ Scholars will certainly agree with the 
      estimate as to the philological value of the interpretations, but I give 
      the list as I noted it. 
      1. afraid-i 
      avval, ‘first created being.’2. nafs-i kull, 
      ‘universal soul.’
 3. nufs-i natikah, ‘spirit of speech.’
 4. ‘akl-i falak-i ‘utarid, 
      ‘genius of the heaven of the planet Mercury?
 5. nur-i mujarrad, 
      ‘incorporeal light.’
 6. ‘akl-i fa‘‘al, 
      ‘active genius.’
 7. rabbu ’n-nau’-i insan, 
      ‘lord of all mankind.’
 8. rast-gu, 
      ‘ truth-speaker.‘
 9. nur-i khuda, 
      or 
      nur-i yazdan, ‘light of God.’
 
      From the same historical compilation the 
      reader cited a passage to the effect that the Mohammedans believed that 
      there mere several Zoroasters - a view which I had heard propounded also 
      by some of the Zoroastrians in India-and that the Zardusht of Vishtasp’s 
      time was the ninth in order, the first of them being Hoshang;
      
      [14] 
      but this view, according to my host, was due to a mistaken reading of a 
      verse in the Shah Namah. 
      Prom questions relating to Zoroaster we 
      turned to religion and philosophy. The discussion led to the problem of 
      dualism, the relation of Ormazd (Ahura Mazda, ‘Lord Wisdom’) and the 
      archangels and angels (Amesha Spentas and Yazatas) to  Ahriman (Angra 
      Mainyu, ‘Evil Spirit,’) and the arch-fiends and fiends (Daevas and Drujes), 
      who war against the soul of man. I found that the most enlightened of 
      these Zoroastrians look upon Ahura Mazda as comprising within himself the 
      conflicting powers of good and evil, designated respectively as Spenta 
      Mainyu, ‘Holy Spirit,‘ and Angra Mainyu, ‘Evil Spirit,’ and that their 
      views in this respect, and possibly under the influence of Bombay, mould 
      agree with the monotheistic tenets upheld by the Parsis of India to-day, 
      who stoutly deny the allegation that Zoroastrianism teaches pure dualism.[15] 
      They believe also in the resurrection of the dead, or are acquainted, at 
      least, with this doctrine, which their faith has taught since early times; 
      and my informant promptly gave me the technical term (Pahlavi ristikhiz, 
      Mod. Pers. ristakhiz) for the ‘rising of the dead.’ The Messianic doctrine 
      of a Saoshyant, or Savior, appeared likewise to be well known. 
      When hearing the High Priest recite 
      passages from the Avesta and when listening to a Mobed as well as a layman 
      read from the sacred texts lying before us, I was struck by certain 
      peculiarities of pronunciation that are worthy of note. For some of the 
      striking features I was prepared through a previous study of the 
      variations in the Iranian manuscripts of the Avesta, used by Geldner for 
      his great edition of the Avesta, and through my observation of the 
      pronunciation of the Parsi priests in India;
      
      
      [16] 
      but some of the peculiarities and certain phonetic inconsistencies in 
      reproducing the words were quite unexpected. What I noticed most was the 
      fact that the Avestan letters th, ph, dh, gh, and generally kh, which are 
      presumed historically to have been spirants, as in English kith, hurthen 
      (for burden), and German hoch, were pronounced as ordinary t, d, g, k, or 
      occasionally as aspirates t, d. g, k, (t, dh, gh, kh): for example, atha, 
      ‘so,’ sounded as ata or at‘a atha; veretraghna, ‘Victory.’ The consonant t 
      was given everywhere as d; for example, cvat: ‘as many as,’ was pronounced 
      like chwad. The secondary nasal nh (&) arising in Avestan from an original 
      sibilant was pronounced like nk (vank-e-osh, vank-hi-osh, or vank-i-ash, 
      for vanheush, ‘of good,’ and ank-i-ash for anheush, ‘of the world’). The 
      voiced sibilant z was pronounced like the English z, and the Avestan 
      letter for zh could not be distinguished from our j (or from j, jh), while 
      the previously mentioned th occasionally interchanged with s, as in the 
      Avestan manuscripts (serish for thrish, ‘thrice’), thus coming near to the 
      earlier spirant character of the sound th than does the pronunciation t or 
      th in vogue among the priests as indicated above. The vowels a, o, u, were 
      frequently confused with each other, and i was shaded in the directiou of 
      e (veheshta, ‘best,’ for vahishta), while certain of the diphthongs were 
      merged into simple vowels (ao in mraot, ‘he spoke,’ pronounced as u, mrud). 
      The anaptyctic and epenthetic vowels were clearly marked: thus, pa-i-ti, 
      ‘against.’ 
      A few illustrations of the general 
      characteristics of the pronunciation will suffice. The name of the prophet 
      Zoroaster, in the nominative form Zarathushtra, was pronounced its 
      Zarat(h)ushtra, Zarat(h)oshtra, or even Zarat(h)ashtru. The opening lines 
      of the well-known Profession of Faith, naismi daevo fravarane mazdayasnu 
      zarathuushtrish vidivu ahura-d-kishu, ‘I abjure being a Demon- Worshipper, 
      I profess myself a Worshipper of Mazda, a foe to the demons, and a 
      believer in the faith of Ahura, ’were sounded like‘ naismi divu fravarane 
      mazdayasnu vidivu ahura-d-kishu.’ The sacred formula of the Ahuna Vairya 
      sounded on their lips quite different from the pronunciation generally 
      given to it in the Occident, at least as indicated in the accepted 
      philological works. This will be clear from a comparative transcript, 
      first in the ordinary transliteration with which we are familiar, and then 
      in the transliteration reproduced from the memoranda I made of the Yezd 
      pronunciation, supplemented by notes from Master Khodabakhsh. 
      AHUNA VAIRYA STANZA AS ORDINARILY WRITTEN 
      yatha ahu vairyu atha ratush ashatchit; 
      hachavangheush dazda mananho shyaothananam anheush mazdzai
 khshathremcha ahurai a yim dregubyu dadat vastarem[17]
 
      AHUNA VAIRYA STANZA AS PRONOUNCED AT YEZD 
       (with the variant pronunciations in 
      parentheses)yata (yat‘a) ahi vaireyu ata (atha) ratosh (ratash) ashadcdid hachu
 vank-e-osh (vanke-hi-osh, vanh-i-ash) dazda manankahu she-yu-tananume
 anke-hi-osh (ank-i-ash) mazdae
 kashatrumcha (khashatremcha) ahorue (aharae or ahurae) a yem dare-
 gabe-yu (dargabyu) dadad vas-e-tarem (vawstarem)[18]
 
        
          
            |  |  
            | Two Zoroastrian 
            Priests at Yezd |  
      For a fuller collection of material to 
      illustrate the pronunciation I must refer to a monograph on the subject 
      which I hope soon to publish in one of the Oriental journals. While on the 
      subject of pronunciation and the reading of the sacred texts, I may add an 
      observation which will not, however, surprise specialists; I refer to the 
      fact that the Acting High Priest and also the more scholarly members of 
      the assembly were unaware that a great part of the Younger Avesta is 
      composed in metre. The idea of verse and verse-structure appeared wholly 
      new to them, when I read for them a portion of the Hom Yasht metrically in 
      the manner that is familiar to students in the West. In all such matters 
      it is manifest that ages of persecution and of neglect of their sacred 
      lore have not been without a detrimental influence upon their technical 
      knowledge; on the other hand, certain points in their pronunciation appear 
      to deserve the consideration of linguistic scholars, because the Persian 
      Zoroastrians are not affected by any philological bias and have remained 
      practically free from the Indian influences that may have affected, in 
      some respects, the pronunciation of the Parsis of Bombay.[19] 
      By this time it was considerably past mid-day, and nearly an hour more was 
      spent in examining the manuscripts and in photographing specimens of the 
      text. A rare privilege was now accorded me; I was invited by Tir Andaz to 
      visit his fire temple early that afternoon after I had enjoyed the repast 
      spread by our host. I was glad to accept at once this opportunity to 
      become acquainted with a place of worship used by the Persian 
      Zoroastrians. It was the temple of the Atash-I Varahram, or Atash Bahram, 
      'Fire of Victory,' situated in the Parsi quarter and located next to the 
      house of Dastur Namdar, the priest who was absent in India a t the moment. 
      It is the chief Zoroastrian sanctuary of Yezd, although there are three 
      other fire-shrines o r chapels, designated either as Dar-i Mihr or Adarian 
      besides one such minor place of worship in every Zoroastrian village in 
      the vicinity of the city.[20] 
      Upon reaching the temple I found it to be 
      simple, unpretentious building. From its exterior and from the entrance it 
      would hardly have been possible to recognize it as a temple a tall. 
      Mohammedanism allows no rivals to its beautiful mosques with turquoise 
      domes, arabesque arches, and slender tessellated minarets. The splendor of 
      the ancient temple of Anaitis at Ecbatana, from which, as I have described 
      above, conquerors carried off untold wealth in gold and silver plate, the 
      grand ruins of Kangavar and the gorgeous display at the Shrine of Fire in 
      Shiz, under the Sasanian kings, belong to ages long since dead.[21] 
        
          
            |  |  
            | A Wind Tower at Yezd |  
      Before reaching the main room of the 
      sanctuary at Yezd it was necessary to pass through several corridors and 
      an antechamber, all of which help to render the shrine safer from 
      desecration. On one side of the last passageway I observed a pile of short 
      logs, one or two feet long and several inches thick, that were used as 
      fuel for the holy flame;[22] 
      it appeared to be ‘well dried and well examined wood,’ as the Avesta 
      enjoins.[23] 
      From the anteroom I entered the large oblong chamber, or chapel, adjoining 
      the sanctum sanctorum in which the fire was kept. My ear caught at once 
      the voice of the white-robed priests who were chanting in the presence of 
      the sacred element a hymn of praise sung by Zoroaster of old. It was a 
      glorification of Verethraghna, the Angel of Victory, in the Bahram Yasht, 
      and I felt a thrill as I heard the Avestan verses –verethraghnem 
      ahuradhatem yazamaide, “we worship the Angel of Victory, created by 
      Ahura’-- ring out from behind the walled recess where the fire was hidden. 
      The door was open and I stood within a few feet of the fire, so as to 
      listen, but I made no attempt to see the flame, as I knew such a step 
      would be regarded as a profanation and might bar the way to other 
      privileges which I wished to enjoy. It seemed an unusual experience thus 
      to be standing in a fire-temple in Zoroaster’s own land and listening to 
      the priests of his hereditary line chanting verses from the sacred texts 
      as had been done for nearly three thousand years. The voice of the zot, or 
      officiating priest, was high, nasal, and resonant, and his intonation was 
      so rapid that he had to pause at times to catch his breath ; while his 
      assistant, the raspi, chanted in a lower key or accompanied his recitation 
      in a nasal minor key with great rapidity of utterance.[24] 
      Each of the celebrants wore over his mouth the paitidana, a small white 
      veil prescribed by the Avesta to be worn over the lips when before the 
      fire, in order to prevent the breath and spittle from defiling the 
      hallowed flame. 
      I almost fell into a revery as I listened 
      to this monotonous chanting of the Yasht; but the hymn was soon ended, and 
      the veiled priests came out from the presence of the fire and were kind 
      enough to allow me to take their photograph, although the light was too 
      dim to secure a good picture.  
      While speaking of pictures I may mention 
      a so-called portrait of Zoroaster hanging on the wall of this main 
      chamber. I had heard of it a number of years before, and when writing my 
      book on the Prophet of Ancient Iran I had expressed a keen desire to see 
      it.[25] 
      My conference with Tir Andaz in the forenoon, when he gave me the meager 
      information that he had about its possible remote connection with Balkh, 
      had prepared me for disappointment as to its value, but I did not expect 
      to find it of so little importance. The picture is merely a modern colored 
      print, apparently a cheap Parsi chromolithograph from India, perhaps not 
      twenty years old, and of no historic interest. It is a variety of the 
      familiar representation based on the Tak-I Bostan sculpture;[26] 
       but the-staff is not fluted, as in the sculpture, the top is capped with 
      a symbolic flame, as in other modern representations current among the 
      Parsis in India, and the lower end of the staff rests upon the ground. 
      This colored picture was the only decoration I noticed on the bare, 
      whitewashed walls. 
      At the rear of the chamber there was a 
      gallery used on occasions when a considerable number of the Zardushtian 
      community come together, as at the Gahanbar season, the Farvadin festival, 
      on some commemorative day, or at some special celebration. The gatherings 
      on such occasions are the nearest approach that the Zoroastrians have to 
      the assembling of a congregation in church, for they have nothing that 
      corresponds precisely to our general Sunday worship.  
      The Acting High Priest now opened a door 
      leading into a small side-chamber to the right of the sanctum where the 
      fire was kept. It was a room arranged as an Izashnah Gah, a place set apart for the performance of religious 
      ceremonies and priestly rites. The floor was built of stone and was 
      cemented and marked off into little channels (pavi) or grooves (kash), to 
      enclose the space within which the priest sat while conducting the ritual, 
      as I had witnessed in the halls adjoining the Parsi temples in India.[27] 
      A lambskin, used apparently as a seat, was lying on the floor, and there 
      were small, low stone stools such as are generally employed in the 
      Izashnah Gah, besides a number of sacrificial utensils. Among the latter 
      were the cups for holding consecrated water, milk, and the juice of the 
      hom plant (Av. haoma), from which the sacred drink was prepared in ancient 
      times, as nowadays, and partaken of by the priest as a part of the 
      ceremony. 
      The haoma, as is well known, corresponds 
      to the soma of Vedic India, which grows on the mountains,[28] 
      and the two branches which the priest gave me came from the mountain 
      heights some distance from Yezd. In addition to this and the urvaru 
      hadhanaepata, or pomegranate,[29] 
      there is still another plant employed in the sacrifice, and it has been 
      used in the Magian ritual since time immemorial. It is the barsom (Av. 
      baresman), the twigs or sprays of which are tied in a bundle at a certain 
      point in the sacrifice, corresponding in a distant manner to the barhis, 
      or straw, strewn as a seat for the divinities in the Vedic ceremonies of 
      old. In Yezd the tamarisk bush is used to form this bundle, and it is 
      bound with a slender strip of bark from the mulberry tree, probably in exactly 
      the same manner as it was in Zoroaster’s day.[30] 
      Brass rods are sometimes substituted for the twigs, as is done by the 
      Parsis in India, but at Yezd this substitution is made only in winter, 
      when it is impossible to procure the branches, or at some particular time 
      when it is impracticable to obtain them. It was the use of these very 
      branches, perhaps, that the Prophet Ezekiel denounced as an abomination to 
      God when he saw in a vision ‘about five and twenty men, with their backs 
      toward the temple of the Lord, and their faces toward the east, and they 
      worshipped the sun toward the east,… and, lo, they put the branch to their 
      nose.[31] 
      I saw the large tamarisk bush from which 
      the sprays mere cut for use in the barsom ceremony; it was of a light 
      green color, twelve or fifteen feet high, and stood in the garden 
      adjoining the rear of the temple. A high wall shut in the garden at the 
      back; a gallery ran part of the way around the enclosure; a flight of 
      steep steps led down from this to the ground, where there were blossoming 
      rose bushes, sweet scented shrubs and plants, a pomegranate tree, and the 
      tamarisk bush. Tir Andaz cut off from this three handsome sprigs, each 
      nearly two feet long, and presented them to me. They were slender and 
      delicate, covered with downy fibrous leaves, and look graceful even in the 
      dried form in which I now have them.[32] 
      Besides the sacred plants, perfumes (baodhi), 
      bread-offerings (draonah, myazda), consecrated water, the haotna, and 
      milk, the Avesta frequently refers to the cow (gao) in connection with the 
      Yasna ceremony. Like their Parsi brethren in India, the Zoroastrians of 
      Persia interpret the Avestan words gao jivya, lit. ‘iving cow,’ as goat’s 
      milk (Pers. shir), and similarly employ an egg and melted butter to 
      represent the gau hudhah, lit. ‘beneficent cow,’ in the ceremony. The 
      faithful of both communities agree in regartling the true Zoroastrian 
      sacrifice to be a bloodless sacrifice, an offering of ‘good thoughts, good 
      words, good deeds,[33] 
      accompanied by praise and thanksgiving, with appropriate ceremonies. Such 
      was the sacrifice offered by Zoroaster himself in the Yashts, after the 
      manner of Ahura Mazda,] although the Avesta does allude to the sacrifice 
      of animals, once, for example, in the Yasna, and several times in the 
      Yashts, which represent Vishtaspa and the heroes of old as sacrificing 
      thousands of animals, some of which must have been slain as a 
      blood-offering.[34] 
        
          
            |  |  
            | Spray of Barsom Plant |  
      A possible survival of the ancient custom 
      of animal sacrifice may survive at. Yezd, down to the present, in the 
      celebration of the Jashn-i Mihrgan, ‘Sacrifice to Mithra,’ although the 
      views on this subject may differ.[35] 
      This festival falls on the day of Mihr, in the month of Mihr 
      (February-March), and is an important one among the Persian Zoroasrians, 
      as they prolong it for five days, till the day of Bahram, or Verethraghna. 
      According to the account I received, it commemorates the victory gained by 
      Feridun (Avestan Thraetaoma) over the Babylonian tyrant Zohak (Avestan 
      Azhi Dahaka), whose cruel rule oppressed Iran for a thousand years. ‘The 
      Persian Zoroastrians used to believe, and some of them still believe,’ as 
      my authority informed me, ‘that at this festival Feridun sacrificed sheep 
      and bade his subjects to follow his example in this respect, and to eat, 
      drink, and be merry, because of the overthrow of their arch-enemy. It was 
      accounted meritorious, therefore, to celebrate the occasion joyfully and 
      to sacrifice a sheep or a goat in every house, or, if the family were 
      poor, to kill a chicken. The priests themselves at first used to kill the 
      animals, but the people afterward did this at home, sprinkling some of the 
      blood on the door-posts and over the lintel, and cooking the rest of the 
      blood with suet and onions, as a dish to be eaten with unleavened bread.[36] 
      Since it was regarded not merely as a sacrifice but as a burnt-offering 
      unto Mihr-i Iran-davar, Mithra, Judge of Iran,’ the flesh of the sheep and 
      goats, when roasted, was carried to the fire temple, prayers were said 
      over it by the priests, to whom a share of the flesh was given, a portion 
      was set aside for distribution among the poor, and the remainder was taken 
      home to be eaten by the family and their friends. ’Such is the account I 
      received from my informant, who added, ‘this custom is now dying out; the 
      people are becoming wiser and saner, and outgrowing this cruel practice 
      and bloody rite, which the Parsis of India do not recognize and like which 
      they have nothing.’ 
      After leaving the fire-temple I asked if 
      I might visit the Barashnum Gah, a place set apart for the performance of 
      the ablution for nine nights, as I shall describe in the next chapter. 
      Since it was situated in another street I had an opportunity, both when 
      going and returning, to see more of the Parsi quarter of the town and make 
      further observations as to the community and its general condition. As 
      there are about eight thousand Gabars in Yezd, they occupy a not 
      inconsiderable section of the city. I t is known as the Mahallah-i Pusht-i 
      Khaneh-I Ali, or Mahallah-I Pusht-i Khanahi Ali, the Quarter in the Rear 
      of Khan Ali, or of Ali’s House,’ and I subsequently learned that they have 
      a tradition current among them as to the origin of this name. The common 
      belief is that the designation by Ali’s name is due to a device resorted 
      to by the worshippers of Mazda in order to escape persecution at the hands 
      of their Mohammedan enemies after the Arab conquest. They pretended, it is 
      said, that Ali, the cousin and son-in-law of Mohammed, had a house in this 
      part of Yezd and that he settled the Zoroastrians here, in order to shield 
      them from persecution; and that they were Ali’s cowherds. In support of 
      this claim they cleverly urged the plea that the name Gabran, ‘Infidels,’ 
      by which they were stigmatized, and the modern pronunciation of which 
      among the Parsis of Yezd would be Gav-ran or Gaur-un, really meant Gau-run, 
      ‘cow-keeper,’ and that as Gabars the Zoroastrians were therefore worthy of 
      Moslem protection. As I know through Khodabakhsh Bahram Ra’is, the better 
      educated among them regard this explanation of the name of the quarter as 
      a mere fiction, a piece of popular etymology, and they suggest a more 
      probable interpretation. The name Ali, they say, is not an uncommon one 
      among the Persians, and this was probably the name of a land-owner, or 
      wealthy Khan (Pers. Khan), who had a caravanserai outside the old part of 
      Yezd, near where the Parsi quarter now is, and the Zoroastrians settled 
      there, ‘back of Khan Ali’ (not khanah, ‘house’), so that the designation 
      has nothing to do with the house of Ali, the successor of Mohammed. 
      Some details regarding the general 
      condition of the so-called Gabars in Yezd and its environs may be of 
      interest. A large proportion of the Zoroastrians who live outside of the 
      city itself, especially in the neighborhood of the flourishing town of 
      Taft, are occupied in gardening and the cultivation of the soil. According 
      to the Avesta, as I have already stated,[37] 
      agriculture is one of the noblest of all employments, because he who sows 
      grain, sows righteousness, and one of the most joyous spots on earth is 
      the place where one of the faithful sows grain and grass and fruit-bearing 
      trees, or where he waters ground that is too dry and dries ground that is 
      too wet.[38] 
      The Zoroastrians who dwell within the 
      city are largely occupied in trading.[39] 
      This privilege was not accorded them until about fifty years ago, and they 
      are even now subject to certain restrictions and exactions to which no 
      Mohammedan would be liable. They are not allowed, for instance, to sell 
      food in the bazaars, inasmuch as that would be an abomination in the eyes 
      of the Moslems, who regard them as unbelievers and therefore unclean. 
      Until 1882 they were oppressed by the jazia tax, a poll tax imposed upon 
      them as non-believers, and this gave an opportunity for grinding them down 
      by extortionate assessments and trading-tolls. The jazia was finally 
      repealed by Shah Nasr ad-Din, who issued a firman to that effect, 
      September 27, 1882. It was largely owing to influences brought to bear 
      upon him by the Parsis of Bombay that the Shah was led to make this 
      liberal-minded move. They worked through the agency of the Society for the 
      Amelioration of the Zoroastrians in Persia, which they had founded with an 
      endowed fund in 1854, sending at the same time a representative to Iran to 
      look after the interests of their co-religionists.[40] 
      Up to the time of the Shah's firman, a Zoroastrian was not allowed to 
      build an upper story on his house, or, in fact, erect a dwelling whose 
      height exceeded the upstretched arm of a Musulman when standing on the 
      ground.[41] 
      Even within a year after the firman was issued, a Zoroastrian in one of 
      the neighboring villages is said to have had to flee for his life because 
      he had ventured to go beyond the traditional limits and add an upper room 
      to his abode, and another Gabar, who was mistaken for him, was killed by 
      the enraged Musulmans.[42] 
        
          
            |  |  
            | Yezd Types |  
            | 
            (Left to Right) Parsi woman; English 
            woman in Parsi dress; Armenian girl; Parsi woman. |  
      As regards their dress, moreover, the 
      Zoroastrians have always been obliged to adopt a style that would 
      distinguish them from the Mohammedans, and it is only within the last ten 
      years that they could wear any color except yellow, gray, or brown, and 
      the wearing of white stockings was long interdicted. The use of spectacles 
      and eye-glasses, and the privilege of carrying an umbrella, have been 
      allowed only within the same decade, and even now the Gabars are not 
      permitted to ride in the streets or to make use of the public baths (hamam); 
      but the latter prohibition, as they told me, is no longer a hardship, 
      because they have built a bathing establishment for their own use. A score 
      of petty annoyances that they have to undergo might be cited in addition 
      to the more serious disqualifications; but enough have been given to show 
      the disadvantages under which they labor and the persecutions to which 
      they are exposed. In 1898 the present Shah, Muzaffar ad-Din, sought to 
      relieve their condition further by issuing a firman revoking the formal 
      disabilities from which they suffered. While imperfectly observed, this 
      decree has contributed, in spirit at least, to bettering their position. 
      The spread of Babist doctrines, which favor religious liberty and 
      toleration, has possibly contributed also by lessening intolerance on the 
      part of the Mohammedans. The presence of Europeans has likewise had a 
      salutary effect and aided considerably in the general advance. But the 
      most has been done by the Bombay Society for the Amelioration of the 
      Zoroastrians in Persia, whose funds have helped the Gabars and whose 
      reform measures have tended to their general good, so that their numbers 
      have increased considerably within the last fifty years.[43] 
      Nevertheless, they still do not feel themselves free from oppression, and 
      they constantly have to avoid trouble and persecution by yielding to 
      Moslem prejudice. In fact, their lives are in danger whenever the 
      fanatical spirit of Islam breaks out, as was the case about a month after 
      I was in Yezd. A general Musulman rising then took place against the Babis, 
      a large number of whom belonging to the Behai branch are found at Yezd. 
      These Babis were massacred by scores, and even hundreds, or were subjected 
      to shocking outrages and cruel indignities. The Zoroastrians feared that 
      they would suffer the same fate, and I was informed on the authority of 
      one who had witnessed the horrors that such might have been the case if 
      the fanatical wave had not been broken in its course by the prompt and 
      energetic intervention of the Europeans in telegraphic communication with 
      the authorities in power at Teheran. 
        
        
          
            |  |  
            | School Boys at Yezd, 
            Mostly Zoroastrian |  
      The organization of the Zoroastrian 
      community at Yezd has already been indicated in a general way. The 
      spiritual guidance is in the hands of the priesthood (dasturs, mobeds, and 
      herbeds), but the authority which they exercise is greatly limited by the 
      fact that those who do not wish for any reason to accept it can simply 
      throw it off and act in accordance with the rule of the Moslems around 
      them.[44] 
      In civic matters the community is under the leadership of a synod, the 
      Anjuman (Av. hanjamana, 'assembly, convention'), headed by a kalantar, or 
      mayor, the present incumbent of that office being Kalantar Dinyar Bahram 
      whose hospitality I have described, and whose official duties often take 
      him to Kerman, Anar, and other towns in this region where there are 
      Zoroastrians. 
      With the Kalantar's young son Bahram I 
      formed a friendship in the short time of my stay, for he acted as my guide 
      round the city and through the mazes of the bazaar. He was a bright, 
      intelligent fellow, straightforward and honest, manly in his bearing, and 
      agreeable in his manners. I could picture from him what might have been 
      the type of youth in Zoroaster's day, since the blood of the ancient faith 
      flowed in his veins by direct descent. I liked his naturalness and lack of 
      affectation, and certain of his characteristics were charmingly na'ive, 
      for when I took his photograph he instinctively plucked a rose to hold in 
      his hand (for a true Persian portrait would be artistically incomplete 
      without a rose), and in the other hand he held up to view his European 
      watch. I could understand his pride in this respect, since a Zoroastrian 
      would not have been allowed some years ago to carry a watch or even to 
      wear a ring. 
        
          
            |  |  
            | 
            A Zoroastrian convert to Islam |  
      Benevolence is a Zoroastrian 
      characteristic, and the Avesta inculcates the virtue of generosity. Many 
      of the Parsis of Yezd live up to this doctrine so far as their limited 
      means will allow. As an instance of this I may cite the following example. 
      When the English Christian Mission at Yezd was in need of quarters for its 
      hospital -- a branch of their work with which the Parsis especially 
      sympathized -- a prosperous Gabar merchant, named Gudarz Mihrban, came 
      forward and donated to the cause a large caravanserai and its property, 
      including a house that adjoined it. The structure of this erstwhile 
      halting-place for caravans lent itself in a remarkable manner to the uses 
      to which it was now to be put: the central court that once was filled with 
      camels, asses, and pack-mules was turned into a pretty garden ; and the 
      old-time lodgings of the camel-drivers and muleteers were transformed into 
      chambers and wards for the Good Samaritan work. 
       
      
          
          
          [1] 
      These are the figures given me at Teheran by Mr. Ardeshir Reporter, Agent 
      of the Society for the Amelioration of the Zoroastrians in Persia. See 
      also p. 336, n. 3,  above; p. 376, n. 1, and p. 425,below. 
      
          
          
          [2] 
          See my article in Archiv fur Religionswissenschaft,, 1. 364. I have 
          also been told that the Talmud somewhere speaks of this as the Parsi 
          manner of sitting at meals, in contrast to the Jewish fashion. 
           [3] 
          A number of these manuscripts which are now in Bombay had already been 
          used by Professor Geldner in the preparation of his edition of the 
          Avesta. I communicated afterward to the Parsi Panchayat in Bombay the 
          facts about the manuscripts I had seen at Yezd and also in Mr. John 
          Tyler’s possession at Tehran,as the Secretary of the Panchayat had 
          requested from me a report regarding any copies of Avestan texts I 
          could find. 
      
          
          [4]
      
          See Westergaard, 
          Zendavesta, preface, P. 21, n. 4, and P. 11, n. 3, Copenhagen, 
          1852-1854 ; see likewise his letter to Dr. Wilson, quoted by Karaka, 
          History of the Parsis,1. 60. 
          
          
          [5]
      
          This work corresponds to the Pahlavi 
          treatise Pandnamak-i Vazhorg-Mitro-i Bukhtarkan which has 
          survived. See on this point West, Grundr. iran. Philol.2.113. 
      
          
          [6]
      
          See Danlatahah, 
          Tadhkirat ash-Shu'ara, 
          ed. Browne, p. 30, London, 1901, and 
          compare Browne, Literary History of 
          Persia, pp. 12, 346-387. 
      
          
          [7]
      
          See p. 430, below, 
          and compare my Zoroaster, pp. 
          17, 85, 192, 202 
      
          
          [8]
      
          See pp. 87, 103, 
          above 
          
          
          [9]
      
          See Vd. 19. 3, 11. The 
      view that the text contains an allusion to a mountain called 'Paitizbara ' 
      (paiti zbarahi) from which the Darejya flows, is found in an essay in 
      English by Ervad Sberiarji Bharucha, Zoroastrian Religion and Customs, p. 
      3, Bombay, 1893, and this treatise has been translated into Persian by 
      Master Khodabakhsh. The same interpretation appeared to be found in a 
      lithographed work from which they quoted, and which was a compilation by 
      Mirza Tath-ali-Khan Zanganahi (so far as I could catch the name). The 
      comparison of the Daraj with Karaj is due to this latter 
          writer. There are some incidental references to the Karaj in Yakut, 
          pp. 65, 478, 488 ; see also p. 443, below. 
          
          
          [10]
      
          I have reproduced the photograph in 
          Chap. 28, below. For paiti zbarahi, see Bartholomq Air. Wb. p. 1699. 
      
          
          [11]
      
          See my Zoroaster, pp. 194-195. 
          
          
          [12]
      
          For the main sources, see my 
          Zoroaster, pp. 280-286. 
          
          
          [13]
      
          According to the Parsi Prakash, ed. 
          Bamanji Bahramji Patel, p. 10, Bombay, 1888, the above-mentioned 
          Dastur Azar Keivan bin Azar Goshasp was a learned and well known 
          Persian priest who believed in a universal religion. After spending 
          twenty eight years of his life in meditation he came to India and 
          settled at Patna, where he became known as a teacher of a universal 
          creed. He wrote the Makashifat-i Azar Keivan and died at Patna in 
          1614, at the age of eighty five. For this information from the Parsi 
          Prakash I am indebted to my pupil and friend, Errad Maneckji 
          Nusservanji Dhalla, of Karachi, India, a student at Columbia 
          University. For a note on Farzanah Bahram ibn Farbad, see Shehriarji 
          Bharncha, The Dascitir, in Zartoshti, 3. 122, Bombay, 1908. 
      
          
          [14]
      
          In the Dasatir (see Shehriaji 
          Bharnclra, op. cit. p. 121) Zartoshtis the thirteenth in the line of 
          prophets. Such is the view held also by some of the theosophists among 
          the Modern Parsis of India, certain of whom regard him as the seventh 
          of the name. See Bilimoria, Zoroastrianism in the Light of Theosophy, 
          p. 4, note, Bombay, 1896. 
      
          
          [15]
      
          On the whole subject 
      of dualism, see the views expressed in my article in Geldner. iran. Philol. 
      2.626-631, 617-649, 663. 
      
          
          [16]
      
          Many of the phonetic features are 
          common in the ordinary pronunciation of the Indian Parsis, except 
          among the trained scholars. 
      
          
          [17]
      
          For the sake of parallelism I have 
          here retained, with trifling modifications, the older transliteration 
          of Justi. 
      
          
          [18]
      
          The a is sometimes labialized to aw 
          (Eng. law). 
      
          
          [19]
      
          It is only the younger generation of 
          Zoroastrian students at Yezd that has come into close contact with the 
          Zoroastrians of India, through the influence of Master Khodabakbsh and 
          a few other scholars who have been in Bombay. 
      
          
          [20]
      
          The name Dar-i Mehhr, 'Shrine of Mihr 
          ' (used also in India) contains a reminiscence of the ancient Mithraic 
          worship, but is now used (like Adarian, ‘pyraea') merely as a 
          designation for a small chapel or shrine of fire. 
      
          
          [21]
      
          See pp. 131-143, above. 
      
          
          [22]
      
          Cf. Vd. 3. 1. 
      
          
          [23]
      
          Cf. Vd. 14. 2; 18.27, 71. 
          
          
          [24]
      
          The intonation of both the priests 
          was loud and resonant and more swift than that 
          of the Pami dasturs I had heard in Bombay and Udvada, and I observed 
          the Same peculiarities in pronunciation that I had observed in the 
          conference of the forenoon. 
      
          
          [25]
      
          See my Zoroaster, pp. 288-289. 
      
          
          [26]
      
          See pp. 216-218, above. 
          
          
          [27]
      
          I refer to the 
          sc-called urvis-gah connected with the fire-temples at Udvada, Navsari, 
          and Bombay. For a photograph and a description of the latter, together 
          with a representation of the various implements and utensils employed 
          in the sacrifice, see Darmesteter, Le ZA. 1. introd. p. 72 (pl. 4), 
          and compare the interesting notes descriptive of some Parsi 
          ceremonies, by Haug, Essays on the Parsis, 3d ed., pp. 302-400; cf. 
          likewise my note in JAOS. 22. 321. 
      
          
          [28]
      
          See Ys. 10.3, and Rig Veda 5.86. 2; 
          10. 34.1. 
      
          
          [29]
      
          The Zoroastrians of Yezd, like the 
          Indian Parsis, agree in regarding the pmegranate as the representative 
          of the Avestan urvaru hadhanaepata; on the latter, compare Haug, 
          Essays on the Parsis, pp. 251, 399, and West, SBE. 37. 186. 
      
          
          [30]
      
          The Avestan words employed in 
          connection with the barasman indicate that the twigs were originally 
          spread (star-, frastereta-), then gathered into a bundle and hound (yuh-, 
          aiwyasta-, aiwyhana-); see the references under each of these words in 
          Bartholomae, Atr. Ipb. pp. 98,947,1290, 1595. 
      
          
          [31]
      
          Ezekiel 8. 16, 17. 
      
          
          [32]
      
          My friend Mr. Percy Bodenstab, of 
          Yonkers, has made a drawing of the sprays (here reproduced) in a 
          reduced size; to convey a clearer idea it would be necessary to 
          reclothe the branches with the softest green color imaginable. 
          
          
          [33]
      
          See Yt. 6. 17, 
      104; 9. 28 ; 17. 44 (rendering gava each time as ‘milk’). 
      
          
          [34]
      
          See Ys. 11. 4 ; Yt. 6.21, 25, 33, 
          108; Yt. 9. 25; compare also the description of the Magian sacrifice 
          given by Herodotus, History, 1. 132. Observe likewise that on the eve 
          of battle (Yt. 6.68) Jamaspa himaelf offers an animal sacrifice. 
      
          
          [35]
      
          The notes which I present on the 
          Jashn-i Mihrgan are given on the authority of Khodahakhsb Bahram Ra’is, 
          who, it should be noticed, attributes the origin of the custom to 
          Mohammedan influence after the Arab conquest, like the sacrifices at 
          the feast id-i Kur-ban, referred to above, p. 162, n. 1. The opinion 
          of the Parsis in India would also be in favor of his view. See Modi, 
          Meher and Jashne Meherangan (Mithra and the Feast of Mithras), Bombay, 
          1889; of also Marquart, Untersuchungen zur Ceschichte von Eran, 2. 
          132-136, Leipzig, 1905. 
          
          
          [36]
      
          It is interesting 
          to note the resemblance between this old-time Persian custom and the 
          observances of the Jewish Passover. 
          
          
          [37]
      
          See p. 246, above. 
          
          
          [38]
      
          See Vd. 9. 31 and 
          Vd. 3. 4. 
      
          
          [39]
      
          The Zoroastrians in general appear to 
          have an especial aptitude for business, and they appear rather to 
          amept than reject the designation 'Jews of the East' that is sometimes 
          applied to them because of their commercial activity. 
          
          
          [40]
      
          For an account of 
          the efforts for the abolition of this tax, see Dosabhai Framji Karaka, 
          History of the Parsis, 1. 7282, London, 1884; cf. also p. 397, below. 
          
          
          [41]
      
          The comparative 
          scarcity of upper stones on the houses in the Gabar quarter is 
          still noticeable. 
      
          
          [42]
      
          For this point and the next, see 
          Malcolm, Five Years i n a Persian Town, pp. 46, 49, London and New 
          York, 1905. This interesting book on life at Yezd appeared after the 
          present chapter was written, but I have been able to incorporate one 
          or two references, and I would recommend to the reader’s attention Mr. 
          Malcolm’s remarks on the restrictions in general upon the Gabars (pp. 
          44-63). 
      
          
          [43]
      
          In 1854 the number of Zoroastrians in 
          the vicinity of Yezd was given at 6658 souls (Karaka, History of the 
          Parsis, 1. 55 ): in 1882 as about 6483 (Houtum-Schindler, Die Parsen 
          in Persien, in ZDMG. 26. 54); in 1903 as between 8OOO and8500, 
          including the environs of Yezd (these last figures being given to me 
          in Teheran by Mr. Ardeshir Reporter, Secretary of the Society for the 
          Amelioration of the Zoroastrians). 
      
          
          [44]
      
          For the relations between the 
          spiritual and temporal powers in ancient times, see Wilhelm, Kingship 
          and Priesthood in Ancient Eran. pp.1-21, Bombay, 1892 (translated from 
          his German treatise in ZDNG. 40. 102-110). |