"After which reflection he returned to his pipe as before, and
disturbed himself as little as possible, when messenger after
messenger arrived, to announce the fresh vagaries of the young
princes.
"It is impossible to enumerate all the luxuries, amusements, and
delights, they asked for, obtained, and wearied of during several
years. But the longer it went on, the more hardened and indifferent
their father became.
"'For,' said he, 'what saith the proverb? "The longest lane turns at
last." At last my sons will have everything man can wish for, and
then they will cease from asking, and I shall smoke my pipe in
peace.'
"One day, however, the messenger entered the royal smoking-room in a
greater hurry than ever, and was about to commence his usual
elaborate peroration respecting the incomparable sons, when his
Majesty held up his hand to stop him, and called out:-
"'What is it now?'
"'May it please your Majesty, your Majesty's in--'
"'What is it they WANT?' cried the king, interrupting him.
"'May it please your Majesty, SOMETHING TO DO.'
"'Something to do?' repeated the perplexed king of the hills;
'something to do, when half the riches of my empire have been
expended upon providing them with the means of doing everything in
the world that was delightful to the soul of man?
"'Surely, oh son of a dog, thou art laughing at my beard, to come to
me with such a message from my sons.'
"'Nevertheless, may it please your Majesty, I have spoken but the
truth. Your Majesty's in--'
"'Hush with that nonsense,' interrupted the king.
"'Your Majesty's sons, in fact, then, have sickened and pined for
three mortal days, because they have got NOTHING TO DO.'
"'Now, then, my sons are mad!' exclaimed poor King Schelim, laying
down his pipe, and rising from his recumbent position; 'and it is
time that I bestir myself.'
"And thereupon he summoned his attendants, and sent for the royal
Hakim, that is to say, physician; and the most learned and
experienced Dervish, that is to say, religious teacher of the
neighbourhood.
"'For,' said he, 'who knows whether this sickness is of the body or
the soul?'
"And having explained to them how he had brought up his children, the
indulgences with which he had surrounded them, the learning which he
had had instilled into them, and the way in which he had preserved
them from every annoying sight and sound, he concluded:-
"'What more could I have done for the happiness of my children than I
have done, and how is it that their reason has departed from them, so
that they are at a loss for something to do? Speak one or other of
you and explain.'
"Then the Dervish stepped forward, and opening his mouth, began to
make answer.
"'And,' said he, 'oh King of the Hills, in the bringing up of thy
sons, surely thou hast forgotten the proverb which saith, "He that
would know good manners, let him learn them from him who hath them
not." For even so may the wise man say of happiness, "He that would
know he is happy, must learn it from him who is not." But again,
doth not another proverb say, "Will thy candle burn less brightly for
lighting mine?" Wherefore the happiness which a man has, when he has
discovered it, he is bound to impart to those that have it not. Have
I spoken well?'
"Then King and the Hakim declared he had spoken remarkably well;
nevertheless I am by no means sure that King Schelim knew what he
meant. Whereupon the Dervish offered to go at once to the four
incomparable princes, and cure them of their madness in supposing
they had nothing to do, and King Schelim in great delight, and
thoroughly glad to be rid of the trouble, told him that he placed his
sons entirely in his hands; then taking him aside, he addressed to
him a parting word in confidence.
"'Thou knowest, oh wise Dervish, that I have had no education myself,
and therefore, as the proverb hath it, "To say I DON'T KNOW, is the
comfort of my life," yet what better is a learned man than a fool, if
he comes but to this conclusion at last? See thou restore wisdom and
something to do to the souls of my sons.'
"Which the Dervish promised to accomplish, accordingly in company
with the Hakim, he betook himself to the palace of the four princes,
his Majesty's incomparable sons.
"Well, in spite of all they had heard, both the Dervish and Hakim
were surprised at what they really found at the palace of the four
princes.
"It was as if everything that human ingenuity could devise for the
gratification, amusement, and occupation both of body and mind had
been here brought together. Horses, elephants, chariots, creatures
of every description, for hunting, riding, driving, and all sorts of
sport were there, countless in numbers, and perfect in kind.
Gardens, pleasure-grounds, woods, flowers, birds, and fountains, to
delight the eye and ear; while within the palace were sources of
still deeper enjoyment. The songs of the poets and the wisdom of the
ancients reposed there upon golden shelves. Musicians held
themselves in readiness to pour exquisite melodies upon the air;
games, exercises, in-door sports in every variety could be commanded
in a moment, and attendants waited in all directions to fulfil their
young masters' will.
"The poor old Dervish and Hakim looked at each other in fresh
amazement at every step they took, and neither of them could find a
proverb to fit so extraordinary a case.
"At last, after a long walk through chambers and anti-chambers
without end, hung round with mirrors and ornaments, they reached the
apartment of the young princes, where they found the four
incomparable creatures lounging on four ottomans, sighing their
hearts out, because they had 'nothing to do.'
"As the door opened, the eldest prince glanced languidly round, and
inquired if the messenger had returned from their father, and being
answered that the Dervish and Hakim, who now stood before him, were
messengers from their father, he called out to know if the old
gentleman had sent them anything to do!
"'The king, your father's spirit is disturbed with anxiety,' answered
the Dervish, 'lest some sudden calamity should have deprived his sons
of the use of their limbs or their senses, or lest their attendants
should have failed to provide them with everything the earth affords
delightful to the soul of man.'
"'The king, our father's spirit is disturbed with smoke,' replied the
eldest prince, 'or he never would have sent such an old fellow as you
with such an answer as that. What's the use of the use of one's
limbs, or one's senses, or all the earth affords delightful to the
soul of man, if we're sick of it all? Just go back and tell him
we've got everything, and are sick of everything, and can do
everything, and don't care to do anything, because everything is so
'slow;' so we will trouble him to find us something fresh to do.
There! is that clear enough, old gentleman?'
"'The king, your father,' answered the Dervish, 'has provided against
even that emergency; I am come to tell you of something fresh to see
and to do.'
"No sooner had the Dervish uttered these words, than the four princes
jumped up from the ottoman in the most lively and vigorous manner,
and clamoured to know what it was, expressing their hope that it was
a 'jolly lark.'
"In answer to which the Dervish, lifting himself up in a commanding
manner, stretched out his arm, and exclaimed, in a solemn voice:-
"'Young men, you have exhausted happiness. Nothing new remains in
the world for you, but misery and want. Follow me!'
"There was something so unusual about the tone of this address, and
it was uttered in so imposing a manner, that the young princes were,
as it were, taken by storm, and they followed the Dervish and Hakim,
without a word of inquiry or objection.
"And he led them away from the palace on the beautiful hill--away
from all the sights and sounds that were collected together there to
delight the soul of man with both bodily and intellectual enjoyment--
down into the city in the valley, among the close-packed habitations
of common men, congregated there to labour, and just exist, and then
die.
"And presently the Dervish and the Hakim spoke together, and then the
Hakim led the way through a gloomy by-street, till he came to a
habitation into which he entered, and the rest followed without a
word. And there, stretched upon a pallet, wasted and worn with pain,
lay a youth scarcely older than the young princes themselves, the
lower part of whose body was wrapped round with bandages, and who was
unable to move.
"The Hakim proceeded at once to unloosen the fastenings, and to
examine the limbs of the sufferer. They had been crushed by a
frightful accident, while working for his daily bread, in the
quarries of marble near the palace on the hill.
"'Is there no hope, my father?' he ejaculated in agony as the bruised
thighs were exposed to the light, revealing a spectacle from which
the princes turned horrified away.
"But the Dervish stood between them and the door, and motioned them
back.
"'Is there no hope?' repeated the youth. 'Shall I never again tread
the earth in the freedom of health and strength? never again climb
the mountain-side to taste the sweet breath of heaven? never again
even step across this narrow room, to look forth into the narrow
street?'
"Sobs of distress here broke from the speaker; and, covering his face
with his hands, he awaited the Hakim's reply. But while the latter
bent down to whisper his answer, the Dervish addressed himself to the
trembling princes:-
"'Learn here, at last,' said he, 'the value of those limbs, the
power of using which you look upon with such thankless indifference.
As it is with this youth to-day, so may it be with you to-morrow, if
the decree goes forth from on high. Bid me not again return to your
father to tell him you are weary of a blessing, the loss of which
would overwhelm you with despair.'
"The young princes," continued Aunt Judy, were, as their father had
said, but children yet; that is to say, although they were fourteen
or fifteen years old, they were childish, in not having reflected or
learnt to reason. But they were not hard-hearted at bottom. Their
tenderness for others had never been called out during their life of
self-indulgence, but the sight of this young man's condition, whom
they personally knew as one who had at times been permitted to come
up and join in their games, over-powered them with dismay.
"They entreated the Hakim to say if nothing could be done, and when
he told them that a nurse, and better food, and the discourse of a
wise companion, were all essential for the recovery of the patient,
there was not, to say the truth, one among them who was not ready
with promises of assistance, and even offers of personal help.
"And now, bidding adieu to this youthful sufferer, whose distress
seemed to receive a sudden calm from the sympathy the young princes
betrayed, the Hakim led the way to another part of the town, where he
entered a house of rather better description, in a small room of
which they found a pale, middle-aged man, who was engaged in making a
coarse sort of netting for trees. Hearing the noise of the entrance,
he looked up, and asked who it was, but with no change of
countenance, or apparent recognition of anyone there. But as soon as
the Hakim had uttered the words 'It is I,' a gleam of delight stole
over the pale face, and the man, rising from his chair, stretched out
his arms to the Hakim, entreating him to approach.
"And then the young princes saw that the pale man was blind.
"'Is there any change, oh Cassian?' inquired the Hakim, kindly.
"'None, my father,' answered the blind man, in a subdued tone. 'But
shall I murmur at what is appointed? Surely not in vain was the
privilege granted me, of transcribing the manuscripts which repose on
the golden shelves in the palace of the royal princes. Surely not in
vain did I gather, from the treasures of ancient wisdom, and the
divine songs of the poets, sources of consolation for the suffering
children of men.'
"'And has anyone been of late to read to you?' asked the Hakim.
"But this inquiry the blind man seemed scarcely able to answer. Big
tears gathered into the sightless eyes, and folding his hands across
his bosom, he murmured out:-
"'None, oh my father. Not to everyone is it permitted to trace the
characters of light in which the wise have recorded their wisdom. I
alone of my family knew the secret. I alone suffer now. But shall I
not submit to this also with a cheerful spirit? It is written, and
it behoves me to submit.'
"And, with tears streaming over his cheeks, the blind man took up the
netting which he had laid aside, and forced himself to the work.
"'Seest thou!' exclaimed the Dervish, turning to the prince who stood
next him, apparently absorbed in contemplating the scene. 'Seest
thou how precious are the powers thou hast wearied of in the spring-
time of life? How dear are the opportunities thou hast not cared to
delight in? Bid me not again return to the king, your father, to
tell him his sons can find no pleasure in blessings, the deprivation
of which they themselves would feel to be the shutting out of the sun
from the soul.'
"Then the young prince to whom the Dervish addressed himself, wept
bitterly, and begged to be allowed to visit the blind man from time
to time, and read to him out of the manuscripts that reposed on the
golden shelves in the palace on the hill; and which, he now learnt
for the first time, had been transcribed for his use, and that of his
brothers, by the skill of the sufferer before him.
"And when the blind man clasped his hands over his head, and would
have prostrated himself on the ground, in gratitude to him who spoke,
asking who the charitable pitier of the afflicted could be, the
prince embraced him as if he had been his brother, forced him back
gently into his seat, and bidding him await him at that hour on the
morrow, followed the Hakim from the house.
"And now the Dervish and Hakim spoke together once again, and the
place they visited next was of a very different description.
"Enclosed within walls, and limited in extent, because in the
outskirts of a populous town, the garden into which they presently
entered, was--though but as a drop in comparison with the ocean--no
unworthy rival of the gorgeous pleasure-grounds of the palace.
There, too, the roses unfolded themselves in their glory to the sun,
tiny fountains scattered their cooling spray around, and singing-
birds, suspended on overshadowing trees, of this scene of miniature
beauty a venerable was perceived, seated under the shadow of an
arbour, in front of a table on which were scattered manuscripts,
papers, parchments, and dried plants, and in one corner of which were
laid a set of tablets and writing materials.
"Although the door by which they entered had fallen to, with a noise
as they passed through, the old man did not seem to be aware of it,
nor did he notice their presence until they came so near, that their
shadows fell on some of the papers on the table. Then, indeed, he
looked suddenly up, and with a smile and gesture of delight, bade
them welcome.
"It was not difficult to divine that the old man had lost the sense
of hearing, and the Dervish, taking up the tablets from the table,
wrote upon them the following words, which he showed to the young
princes, before presenting them to him for whom they were intended:-
"'Hast thou not wearied yet, oh brother, of thy narrow garden, and
the ever-recurring succession of flowers, and thy study of the
secrets of Nature?'
"Whereat the deaf man smiled again, and wrote upon the tablets:-
"'Can anyone weary of tracing out the skilful providence of the
Divine Mind? Is it not a world within a world, oh my brother, and
inexhaustible in itself?'
"The youngest prince pressed forward to read the answer, and having
read it, turned to the Dervish, and said, 'Ask him why the singing-
birds are suspended in the garden, whose voices he cannot hear.'
"'Write on the tablet, my son,' said the Dervish; and when he had
written it, the old man answered, in the same manner as before:-
"'I would remember my infirmity, my son, lest my soul should be tied
to the beauties of the visible world, but now when I see the
twittering bills of the feathered songsters, I remember that one
sense has departed, and that the others must follow; and I prepare
myself for death, trusting that those who have rejoiced in the Divine
Mind--however imperfectly--here, may rejoice yet more hereafter, when
no sense or power shall be wanting!'
"After this, the venerable old man led them to a secluded corner of
the garden, where his young son was instructing one portion of a
class of children from the secrets of his father's manuscripts, while
another set of youngsters were engaged in cultivating flowers, by
regular instruction and rule. Many a bright, cheerful face looked up
at the old man and his visitors as they passed, but no one seemed to
wish to leave his work, or his lesson, or the kind young tutor who
ruled among them.
"'We have wasted our lives, oh my father!' exclaimed the young
princes, as they passed from this sight. 'Tell us, may we not come
back again here, to learn true wisdom from this man and his son?'
"Having obtained the old man's willing consent to his, the Hakim
retiring conducted his companions back into the streets; and the
young princes, whose eyes were now opened to the instruction they
were receiving, came up to the Dervish, and said:-
"'Oh, wise Dervish, we have learnt the lesson you would teach, and we
know now that it is but a folly, and a mockery, and a lie, when a man
says that he has nothing to do. There is enough to do for all men,
if their minds are directed right! Have I not spoken well?'
"'Thou hast spoken well according to thy knowledge,' answered the
Dervish, 'but thou hast yet another lesson to learn.'
"The prince was silenced, and the Dervish and Hakim hurried forward
to a still different part of the city, where several trades were
carried on, and where in one place they came upon an open square,
about which a number of gaunt, wild-looking men, were lounging or
sitting; unoccupied, listless, and sad.
"'This is wrong, my father, is it not?' inquired one of the princes;
but the Dervish, instead of answering him, addressed a man who was
standing somewhat apart from the others, and inquired why he was
loitering there in idleness, instead of occupying himself in some
honest manner?
"The man laughed a bitter mocking laugh, and turning to his
companions, shouted out, 'Hear what the wise man asks! When trade
has failed, and no one wants our labour, he asks us why we stand
idling here!' Then, facing the Dervish, he continued, 'Do you not
know, can you not see, oh teacher of the blind, that we have got
NOTHING TO DO?--NOTHING TO DO!' he repeated with a loud cry--'NOTHING
TO DO! with hearts willing to work, and hands able to work,'--(here
he stretched out his bared, muscular arm to the Dervish,)--'and wife
and children calling out for food! Give us SOMETHING TO DO, thou
preacher of virtue and industry,' he concluded, throwing himself on
the ground in anguish; 'or, at any rate, cease to mock us with the
solemn inquiry of a fool.'
"'Oh, my father, my father,' cried the young princes, pressing
forward, 'this is the worst, the very worst of all! All things can
be borne, but this dire reality of having NOTHING TO DO. Let us find
them something to do. Let us tear up our gardens, plough up our
lawns, and pleasure-grounds, so that we do but find work for these
men, and save their children and wives from hunger.'
"'And themselves from crime,' added the Dervish solemnly. Then
quitting his companions, he went into the crowd of men, and made
known to them in a few hurried words, that, by the order of their
young princes, there would, before another day had dawned, be
something found to do for them all.
"The cheer of gratitude which followed this announcement, thrilled
through the heart of those who had been enabled to offer the boon,
and so overpowered them, that, after a liberal distribution of coin
to the necessitous labourers, they gladly hurried away.
"'Now my task is ended,' cried the Dervish, as they retraced their
steps to the palace on the hill. 'My sons, you have seen the sacred
sorrow which may attach to the bitter complaint of having NOTHING TO
DO. Henceforth seal your lips over the words, for, in all other
cases but this, they are, as you yourselves have said, a folly, a
mockery, and a lie.'
"It is scarcely necessary to add," continued Aunt Judy, "that the
young princes returned to the palace in a very different state of
mind from that in which they left it. They had now so many things to
do in prospect, so much to plan and inquire about, that when the
night closed upon them, they wondered how the day had gone, and
grudged the necessary hours of sleep. But on the morrow, just as
they were eagerly recommencing their left-off consultations, the
Dervish appeared among them, and suggested that their first duty
still remained unthought of.
"The incomparable sons were now really surprised, for they had been
flattering themselves they were most laudably employed. But the
Dervish reminded them, that, although their duty to mankind in
general was great, their duty to their father in particular was yet
greater, and that it behoved them to set his mind at rest, by
assuring him, that henceforth they would not prevent him from smoking
his pipe in peace, by restless discontent, and disturbing messages
and wants.
"To this the young princes readily agreed, and thoroughly ashamed, on
reflection, of the years of harass with which they, in their
thoughtless ingratitude, had worried poor King Schelim, they repaired
to his presence, and without entering into unnecessary explanations,
(which he would not have understood,) assured him that they were
perfectly happy, that they had got plenty to do, as well as
everything to enjoy, that they were very sorry they had tormented him
for so long a period of his life, but that they begged to be
forgiven, and would never do so again!
"King Schelim was uncommonly pleased with what they said, although he
had to lay down his pipe for a few minutes to receive their
salutations, and give his in return; after which they returned to
their palace on the hill, and led thenceforward useful, intelligent,
and therefore happy lives, reforming grievances, consoling sorrows,
and taking particular care that everybody had the opportunity of
having SOMETHING TO DO.
"And as they never again disturbed their father King Schelim, with
foolish messages, he smoked his pipe in peace to the end of his
days."
"Nice old Schelim!" observed No. 8, when Aunt Judy's pause showed
that the story was done. A conclusion which made the other little
ones laugh; but now Aunt Judy spoke again.
"You like the story, all of you?"
Could there be a doubt about it? No! "Schelim, King of the Hills,
and his four sons," was one of Aunt Judy's very, very, very, best
inventions. But they had the happy knack of always thinking so of
the last they heard.
"And yet there is a flaw in it," said Aunt Judy.
"Aunt Judy!" exclaimed several voices at once, in a tone of
expostulation.
"Yes; I mean in the moral:" pursued she, "there is no Christianity in
the teaching, and therefore it is not perfect, although it is all
very good as far as it goes."
"But they were eastern people, and I suppose Mahometans or Brahmins,"
suggested No. 4.
"Exactly; and, therefore, I could not give them Christian principles;
and, therefore, although I have made my four princes turn out very
well, and do what was right, for the rest of their lives (as I had a
right to do); yet it is only proper I should explain, that I do not
believe any people can be DEPENDED UPON for doing right, except when
they live upon Christian principles, and are helped by the grace of
God, to fulfil His will, as revealed to us by His Son Jesus Christ.
"Certainly it is always more REASONABLE to do right than wrong, even
when the wrong may seem most pleasant at the moment; because, as all
people of sense know, doing right is most for their own happiness, as
well as for everybody else's, even in this world.
"But although the knowledge of this may influence us when we are in a
sober enough state of mind to think about it calmly, the inducement
is not a sufficiently strong one to be relied upon as a safe-guard,
when storms of passion and strong temptations come upon us. In such
cases it very often goes for nothing, and then it is a perfect chance
which way a person acts.
"Even in the matter of doing good to others, we need the Christian
principle as our motive, or we may be often tempted to give it up, or
even to be as cruel at some moments, as we are kind at others. It is
very pleasant, no doubt, to do good, and be charitable, when the
feeling comes into the heart, but the mere pleasure is apt to cease,
if we find people thankless or stupid, and that our labours seem to
have been in vain. And what a temptation there is, then, to turn
away in disgust, unless we are acting upon Christ's commands, and can
bear in mind, that even when the pleasure ends, the duty remains.
"And now," said Aunt Judy in conclusion, "a kiss for the story-teller
all round, if you please. She has had an invitation, and is going
from home to-morrow."
"Oh, Aunt Judy!" ejaculated the little ones, in not the most cheerful
of tones.
"Well," cried Aunt Judy, looking at them and laughing, "you don't
mean to say that you will not find PLENTY TO DO, and PLENTY TO ENJOY
while I am away? Come, I mean to write to you all by turns, and I
shall inquire in my letters whether you have remembered, TO YOUR
EDIFICATION, the story of Schelim, King of the Hills, and his four
sons."
Footnotes:
{1} "Weide," pasture, grass.