of instruction, and imbibe the maxims of age and experience. As the
pismire creeps not to its labour till fed by its elder, as the young
eagle soars not to the sun but under the shadow of its mother's wings,
so neither doth the child of mortality spring forth to action, unless
the parent hand point out its destined labour. Dangerous are the
desires of pleasure, and mean the pursuits of the sons of the earth.
They stretch out their sinews like the patient mule; they persevere,
with the swiftness of the camel in the desert, in their pursuit of
trifles. As the leopard springs on his prey, so does man rejoice
over his riches, and, like the lion's cub, basks in the sunshine of
slothfulness. On the stream of life float the bodies of the careless
and intemperate, as the carcasses of the dead on the waves of the
Tigris. Wish not to enjoy life longer than you wish to do good."
The worthy pastor then retired, and the moon darted forth her
glimmering lights to illumine the way to his habitation. The amiable
young shepherd and shepherdess, being now left by themselves, "My
adorable Fatima," said the youth, "let us not retire to repose till
we have offered up our most grateful thanks to him, whose throne is
as far above that of earthly princes, as all the waters of the mighty
ocean exceed one single drop falling from the clouds. To him we owe all
the gratification of our wishes, and to him alone we must hereafter
look up as our friend, guardian, and protector. May it be recorded in
after times, that among these mountains once lived the happy Fatima and
Dorillis, whose affections for each other, whose universal benevolence
to all within the narrow sphere of their knowledge, and whose virtues
and piety have left an example worthy the imitation of all who wish and
know how to be happy."
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
_Generosity rewarded._
Of all the graces that contribute to adorn the human mind, there are
perhaps none, more estimable than generosity and gratitude. To define
the exact boundary between generosity and profusion, is not perhaps
easy, since every one will explain it by the ideas they have of their
own motives for action; yet how far soever avarice may have deprived
some men of every spark of generosity, yet those very men fail not to
expect it from others, and are sure to complain bitterly of those who
do not display it in all their actions.
Nothing can equal the pleasure arising from the glow of a generous
heart, which is prompted to a noble action solely from the love of
virtue, and who wishes not to make of it a worldly parade. Fame is
often purchased by generous donations, which would never have been
given, had not popular idolatry been the motive; while others, like the
generous man in the following tale, consult only the approbation of
their own honest feelings.
One of the califs of Egypt, being in the field of battle, was
unexpectedly surrounded by a great number of rebels, who were preparing
to give that fatal blow, which would at once have finished his life and
put an end to his mortal career. Fortunately for him an Arab happened
to be near the spot with other soldiers of his party, who, seeing the
situation of the calif, rushed upon the rebels, and soon put them to
flight.
The name of this Arab was Nadir, who had for some months lived a
wandering life in the most retired and unfrequented places, in order
to escape the vengeance of the calif, against whom he had joined the
people in a late insurrection.
This generous conduct of Nadir was so much admired by all the Arabians,
that the sires still tell it their children among their evening tales.
This adventure had the happy effect of perfectly reconciling Nadir to
the calif, who, charmed with the generosity of a man who had saved his
life, at the very instant he might have destroyed it, promised to place
in him an implicit confidence. "But," said the calif, "let me hear how
you have passed your time, during your banishment."
"I have been a wandering fugitive," replied Nadir, "ever since your
family were elevated to the throne of this empire; conscious that the
sword of vengeance was at all times hanging over my head, it became
natural for me to seek security in retirement. I found refuge for some
time in the house of a friend at Basra; but fearing that my stay in
that city might be dangerous, I one night quitted it under the favour
of a disguise, and pursued my journey towards the desert.
"I had escaped the vigilance of the guards, and thought myself out of
all danger, when a man of a suspicious countenance seized my camel's
bridle, and expressed his suspicions that I was the man the calif was
in search of, and for the apprehension of whom a very considerable
reward had been promised.
"I answered, that I was not the man he was in quest of."--"Is not your
name Nadir?" said he. "This disconcerted me, and I could no longer
deny myself to be the object of his pursuit. I put my hand into my
bosom, and pulling out a jewel of some value, 'Receive,' said I, 'this
trifling token of my gratitude, for the important service I hope you
will now do me, in keeping silence, and favouring my escape. Should
fortune again smile on me, I will share my prosperity with you.'
"He took my diamond, and examined it very attentively, 'Before I put
this diamond into my turban, as your gift,' said he, 'I would wish
you to answer me one question honestly. I have heard you have been a
liberal man, and always ready to assist the poor and necessitous; but
did you ever give away one half of your wealth at one time?' I answered
in the negative; and he renewed his questions till he came down to
one-tenth; when I replied, that I believed I had, at one time, given
away more than one-tenth of my whole fortune.
"'If that be the case,' said the man, as soon as I had made him that
reply, 'that you may know there is at least one person in the realm
more bountiful than yourself, I, who am nothing better than a private
soldier, and receive only two dollars per month, return you your jewel,
which must certainly be worth three thousand times that money.' Having
thus said, he threw me back my diamond, and pursued his journey.
"Astonished at so benevolent and generous an action, I rode after him,
and begged him to return. 'Generous friend,' said I to him, 'I would
rather be discovered, and forfeit my head, than be thus vanquished in
point of generosity. Magnanimous stranger, either I must follow you all
day or you must accept this tribute of my gratitude.'
"He then, turning about, said to me, 'Were I to take from you your
diamond, I should consider myself as a robber on the highway, since you
receive no value from it. Let me advise you to lose no time, but set
off for your proposed retreat.' He continued inflexible, and we parted."
The calif knew not which to admire most, the generosity of Nadir or the
soldier. A proclamation was published, ordering the generous soldier to
appear at the calif's court, that he might receive the reward of his
virtues; but all was to no effect, as no one came forward to claim the
glorious reward. However, about a twelvemonth afterwards, when Nadir
attended the calif at a general review, a private soldier received a
blow from his officer, for holding down his head as the calif passed.
This drew the attention of Nadir, who, after looking stedfastly in the
face of the offending soldier, leaped from his horse, and caught him in
his arms. To conclude, this proved to be the man who had so generously
treated Nadir, and had endeavoured to shun the reward of his virtues.
The calif paid him singular honours; and at last raised him to the
highest rank in his army.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
_An Evening Vision._
One beautiful, serene, summer evening, after rambling in a grove of
laurels, till the lamp of night arose to illumine the objects around
me, I seated myself on the bank of a meandering river; a weeping
willow spread over me its branches, which bent so humbly as to sweep
the stream. An antique tower, partly in ruins, mantled in ivy, and
surrounded with yew and cypress, was the only building to be seen.
I had been reading a melancholy tale, which in strong colours impressed
itself on my memory, and led me to reflect on the strange pleasure we
sometimes feel in perusing the most tragical adventures. What, said I
to myself, can occasion it? Can the human heart feel any delight in the
misfortunes of others?--Forbid it Heaven!
My eyes were fixed on the surface of the water; the soft beams of Luna
sported on the curling waves, and all nature seemed hushed to repose;
when a gentle slumber stole upon my senses, and methought a being of
angelic form seated herself before me.
A mantle of the palest sapphire hung over her shoulders to the ground,
her flaxen hair fell in waving curls on her lovely neck, and a white
veil, almost transparent, shaded her face. As she lifted it up, she
sighed, and continued for some moments silent. Never did I behold
a countenance so delicate; and, notwithstanding a smile sported on
her coral lips, her lovely blue eyes were surcharged with tears, and
resembled violets dropping with dew. Below her veil she wore a wreath
of amarinths and jessamines. "Wonder not," said she, in accents soft
as the breath of zephyrs, "that a state of woe can please. I am called
_Sensibility_, and have been from my infancy your constant companion.
My sire was _Humanity_, and my mother _Sympathy_, the daughter of
_Tenderness_. I was born in a cavern, overshadowed with myrtles and
orange-trees, at the foot of Parnassus, and consigned to the care of
Melpomene, who fed me with honey from Hybla, and lulled me to rest with
plaintive songs and melancholy music.
"Down on one side of the cavern ran a stream from Helicon, and in the
trees around it the doves and nightingales built their nests. I make
it my sole care to augment the felicity of some favoured mortals, who
nevertheless repine at my influence, and would gladly be under the
dominion of _Apathy_.
"Alas, how inconsiderate! If the rose has thorns, has it not also a
balsamic tincture and ambrosial sweetness? If the woodbine droops,
laden with the dew drops of the morning, when the sun has exhaled them,
will it not be refreshed, and yield richer fragrance? So, if a heart be
touched with a story of distress, it will at the same time experience
a delightful sensation; and, if the tears sometimes flow, say, can you
call it weakness? can you wish to be divested of this genuine test of
_tenderness_, and desire the departure of _Sensibility_? Were I totally
to forsake you, man would become a senseless being, and presently
imbibe the ferocity of the savage inhabitants of the forest."
"Ah no, fair nymph!" said I, "still deign to be my attendant; teach
me to sigh with the unhappy, and with the happy to rejoice. I am now
sensible, that the pleasures which arise from legends of sorrow, owe
their origin to this certain knowledge, that our hearts are not callous
to the finer feelings, but that we have some generous joys, and some
generous cares beyond ourselves."
Scarcely had I pronounced these words, when the loud tolling of the
village bell broke the fetters in which Morpheus had bound me, and
dispelled the airy illusion.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
_The Anxieties of Royalty._
The califs of the East having extended their dominions as far as
the boundaries of Europe, found their iron sceptre too heavy to be
supported with any degree of pleasure or satisfaction. They therefore
appointed what are called emirs; but each of these governors soon
assumed the power of sultans. Not contented with the appearance of
being equal to their master, they frequently arraigned his conduct, and
sometimes dethroned him.
Mahmoud was the most celebrated of all the califs who had kept
their court at Ispahan. He was a patron of the arts and sciences,
and naturally a friend to the blessings of peace. Some of his
predecessors, however, had been of different sentiments, and thought
their happiness and glory consisted only in warlike exploits, in the
desolation of villages, towns, and cities, without regarding the
horrible carnage of human beings, and the miseries to which thousands
of families were thereby reduced. His subjects being thus accustomed
to warlike achievements, being naturally savage, and thinking nothing
but a victorious hero fit to govern them, they rebelled against their
peaceful monarch.
Though Mahmoud wisely preferred peace to war, yet he was by no
means destitute of true courage, and he now found himself under the
disagreeable necessity of taking the field, as the only means of
quelling his rebellious subjects. His arms were every where victorious,
and he returned in triumph to Ispahan, where he hoped to enjoy the
fruits of his victories in peace and tranquility.
In this, however, he was much disappointed; for his rebellious subjects
attributed his successes more to good fortune than wisdom or courage,
and they seemed only to be in want of a chief to lead them to open
rebellion. Selim put himself at the head of these rebels; but, in the
course of two years' contest, Selim lost his head, and Mahmoud returned
in triumph to his capital.
The man, who has long been accustomed to scenes of blood and
slaughter, will naturally become hardened and of savage feelings,
totally the reverse of those of pity, tenderness, and humanity. Almost
every day convinced Mahmoud, that he must part with either his tender
feelings or his throne. He wished to pursue the middle path between
clemency and tyranny; but the rebellious spirit of his subjects by
degrees so hardened his heart, that he at last became the complete
tyrant.
The people soon began to groan under the weight of his iron hand, and
offered up their prayers to the great prophet for a peaceful king, such
as Mahmoud had been. Alas! all their prayers were in vain, for Mahmoud
was young and vigorous, and beloved by his army. He was once loved; he
was now dreaded in every part of the Persian empire.
The calif, after having some time exercised his tyranny with a high
hand, suddenly withdrew from public affairs, and shut himself up in the
recesses of his palace, visible to no one but the emir he had always
trusted. In this unprecedented solitude he passed his time during the
whole course of a moon, and then suddenly appeared again on his throne.
A visible alteration had taken place in his countenance, and, instead
of the ferocity of a tyrant, clemency and mercy seemed seated on his
brow. He was no longer the savage calif, but the father of his country.
Such an unexpected change undoubtedly became the universal topic
of conversation, and various reasons were assigned for his sudden
transformation, but none of their conjectures came near the truth. An
accident, however, brought every thing to light.
Among the wise men of Ispahan was Alicaun, who was one day conversing
with an iman, and several dervises, concerning the change of the
calif's conduct. One of the dervises laid claim to the honour of this
change, having obtained it of Mahomet by fasting and prayer. Another
said, that this great work had been accomplished by a beauty in the
seraglio; but an iman, or priest, was bold enough to contradict them
both, and boasted, that it was by his remonstrances that the calif's
heart was softened. Alicaun being then called upon to give his opinion,
replied, "The lion, weary of the chase, lies down to repose a little:
but let the traveller be upon his guard; perhaps he is only sleeping to
recover his lost strength, that, when he wakes, he may rush forth with
additional fury."
One of the treacherous dervises reported this conversation to the
calif, and, in consequence thereof, Alicaun was ordered to appear
before him.
Alicaun accordingly made his appearance, when the calif, having taken
his seat at the tribunal, thus addressed him: "I have been informed of
the particulars of your late conversation; your having compared me to
the noble lion, can have nothing in it that ought reasonably to offend
me; but tell me sincerely, in which of these lights you considered the
lion; as the generous monarch of the forest, or as the savage tyrant?"
Alicaun bowed down his head to the earth, and replied, "My sovereign,
you have ordered me to speak sincerely: I will obey your orders,
regardless of the consequences that may follow. When I lately took
the liberty to compare you to the lion, I must own I had in my view
the ferocity of that animal. I am sensible I deserve to die:--your
decree will determine, whether you are the monarch of the forest, or
the savage tyrant. Should you be graciously pleased to spare me, it
will turn to your own advantage; because if you condemn me to die, my
accusers will think I spoke truth; but pardon me, and they will be
confounded."
"I forgive you, Alicaun," said the calif; "and I will tell you,
and all present, my motive for doing so. You are not a stranger to
the influence my favourite emir, Abdalla, has over me. Like many
other monarchs, I became jealous of my favourite, on the unbounded
acclamations he received on his return home from a war of no great
consequence. I therefore resolved on putting him to death, but was at a
loss in what manner I should accomplish that purpose.
"To attempt it by open violence would endanger my throne; I therefore
resolved to do it by stratagem. At the bottom of my palace gardens,
you all know, is a tremendous precipice, whose base is washed by the
waters of the Tigris. Hither I resolved to take him, under the idea of
consulting him on some important matters of state, and, when I found
him off his guard, as he could not suspect my intentions, to shove him
headlong over the precipice into the river.
"Thought I in myself, this is the last sun Abdalla shall ever behold;
for, by this time, we had reached the fatal spot; when, on a sudden, by
chance, let me say rather, by the will of Heaven, the ground trembled
beneath my feet, and I perceived part of the rock on which I stood was
parting from the main body. At this critical moment, Abdalla seized me
by the arm, and forcibly pulled me to him, otherwise I should certainly
have fallen down the horrible precipice into the foaming billows
beneath, and thus have met with that fate I designed for another.
"Shame and gratitude for some moments struck me dumb and motionless:
with shame, that a sovereign prince should stoop to such mean
treachery; and with gratitude, that I should owe my life to that man,
who saved mine at the very moment I was plotting his destruction!
"I instantly retired to the most secret chamber in my palace, and
opened my soul in prayer and thanksgiving to the Eternal. In this
dejected situation, I suffered several days and nights to pass away,
bitterly reflecting on my folly, and reproaching myself for sinking so
much beneath the real dignity of royalty. What, said I, is the life of
a sovereign more than that of his meanest subject, since the one is no
more secure from the arrows of death than the other!
"In a little time, by reasoning in this manner, I found all my tyranny
and self-consequence humbled, and I wished in future to be considered
only as a man. As the nights were long and tedious to me, in order to
divert my mind from painful and disagreeable reflections, I resolved to
take my rambles in disguise through the different parts of Ispahan.
"Among these rambles, chance carried me one night into a house of
public entertainment. Here, while drinking the liquor I had ordered, I
listened to the conversation of several parties round me.
"One of these parties consisted of a grave old man, surrounded by
several youths, who seemed to pay the greatest veneration and attention
to the words of the aged sire. I drew nearer to them, and was surprised
to find them talking of the late transaction between me and Abdallah.
The substance of their debates will never be erased from my memory.
"'There was a time,' said the old man, 'when all Persia would have
extolled to the skies the generous action of Abdalla; but I fear, there
is not at present a single voice that will thank him for saving the
life of the calif.'
"One of the youths, who I found was the old man's son, said he
perfectly agreed in what he had mentioned, but advised him at the same
time to be cautious in his observations; 'for,' said he, 'what is more
quick than the ears of a tyrant, or more baneful than the tongue of a
courtier!'
"'I fear not,' said the venerable old man, 'the ears of a tyrant, nor
the tongue of a courtier. The most they can do is to shorten a life
that has already almost finished its career. A man on the verge of
fourscore has little to fear from the terrors of this life. My father,
who has been dead half that time, left behind him in his cellar nine
bottles of wine of a most delicious flavour. Believe me, this is the
only liquor I ever dared to drink in opposition to the laws of Mahomet;
and not even this, but on very particular occasions; nor have I yet
consumed the whole.
"I drank the first two bottles, continued the old man, on the birth of
your eldest brother: two other bottles were dispatched, when the father
of the present calif delivered Persia from the invasion of a tyrant:
and two others when the present tyrant mounted the throne. Believe me,
I shall be happy to live to treat you with the other three bottles,
when Mahmoud shall be called into the next world, to give an account
of his conduct in this. Yet I would much rather wish to drink them with
you, should he reform, cease to be a tyrant, and again become that good
prince he one day was."
"The company could not help smiling at such a declaration; but I was
far from wishing to partake of their mirth. Had the old man, but a few
days before, uttered such words as these, his head would undoubtedly
have been the price of his temerity; but what would then have excited
my revenge, now filled my mind with the deepest reflections. I stole
away for fear of being discovered, and hastened home to my palace,
there to ruminate by myself on this adventure. It is evident, said I to
myself, that I must have been the worst of tyrants, since this good old
man, who drank but two bottles at the birth of his eldest son, wishes
to drink three on the news of my decease. He hopes for such an event to
crown all his wishes, and to complete his victory.
"In this manner my thoughts were agitated, and it was not till some
time afterwards I recollected he said, that he should finish his
bottle with still greater pleasure, should he hear of my reformation.
All my former notions of tyranny and power appeared to vanish before
me, and my heart seemed to receive impressions of a different nature.
To accomplish this work was my motive for being so long hidden from
public view, and from thence has arisen that change in my conduct with
which I see all my good subjects so much astonished and delighted. I
will endeavour to change no more, but to live in the affections of
my people. I leave you now to judge whether the good old man may not
venture to drink his remaining three bottles."
"Those three bottles are already drank," exclaimed a youth, while he
was endeavouring to penetrate through the crowd of courtiers to the
throne. As soon as he got to the calif, he threw himself at his feet,
and again exclaimed, "Commander of the faithful under Mahomet, they are
already drank!"
Mahmoud then ordered him to rise, and asked him who he was that had
thus spoken. The youth replied, "Most gracious sovereign, I am one
of five children, of whom the old man you have just mentioned is the
father. I was one of the party in that conversation, which has made
such a noble and generous impression on your royal heart. As we were
yesterday surrounding him, he thus addressed us: 'I feel nature is
nearly exhausted in me; but I shall now die with pleasure, since I have
lived to see such an unexpected reformation in Mahmoud. Let us drink
the three remaining bottles and be merry.'"
The calif then ordered him to fetch his father, that he might have the
sire and son always near him. The youth then retired, and Mahmoud
dismissed the assembly for the present.
Thus you see, my youthful readers, how easily you are to be led astray
by your passions, when you suffer them to prevail over reason. Learn
early to give law to your passions, or your passions will in time give
law to you, and govern you with a tyrannical power.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
_The Generous Punishment._