Who is he among the children of the earth, that repines at the power of
the wicked? and who is he, that would change the lot of the righteous?
He, who has appointed to each his portion, is God; the Omniscient and
the Almighty, who fills eternity, and whose existence is from Himself!
but he who murmurs, is man; who yesterday was not, and who to-morrow
shall be forgotten: let him listen in silence to the voice of knowlege,
and hide the blushes of confusion in the dust.
Solyman, the mighty and the wife, who, in the one hundred and second
year of the Hegyra, sat upon the throne of Persia, had two sons, ALMORAN
and HAMET, and they were twins. ALMORAN was the first born, but Solyman
divided his affection equally between them: they were both lodged in the
same part of the seraglio, both were attended by the same servants, and
both received instructions from the same teacher.
One of the first things that ALMORAN learnt, was the prerogative of his
birth; and he was taught very early to set a high value upon it, by the
terms in which those about him expressed their sense of the power, the
splendor, and the delights of royalty. As his mind gradually opened, he
naturally considered these as the objects of universal define, and the
means of supreme felicity: he was often reminded, that the time was
coming, when the sole possession of sovereign power would enable him to
fulfil all his wishes, to determine the fate of dependent nations with a
nod, and dispense life and death, and happiness and misery, at his will:
he was flattered by those who hoped to draw wealth and dignity from his
favour; and interest prompted all who approached him, to administer to
his pleasures with a zeal and assiduity, which had the appearance of
reverence to his merit, and affection to his person.
HAMET, on the contrary, soon became sensible of a subordinate station:
he was not, indeed, neglected; but he was not much caressed. When the
gratification of HAMET came in competition with that of ALMORAN, he was
always obliged to give it up, except when Solyman interposed: his mind
was, therefore, naturally led to seek for happiness in objects very
different from those which had fixed the attention of ALMORAN. As he
knew not to how narrow a sphere caprice or jealousy might confine him,
he considered what pleasures were least dependent upon external
advantages; and as the first popular commotion which mould happen after
his brother's accession to the throne, might probably cost him his life,
he was very inquisitive about the state into which his spirit would be
dismissed by the Angel of Death, and very diligent to do whatever might
secure him a share of the permanent and unchangeable felicity of
Paradise.
This difference in the situation of ALMORAN and HAMET, produced great
dissimilarity in their dispositions, habits, and characters; to which,
perhaps, nature might also in some degree contribute. ALMORAN was
haughty, vain, and voluptuous; HAMET was gentle, courteous, and
temperate: ALMORAN was volatile, impetuous, and irascible; HAMET was
thoughtful, patient, and forbearing. Upon the heart of HAMET also were
written the instructions of the Prophet; to his mind futurity was
present by habitual anticipation; his pleasure, his pain, his hopes, and
his fears, were perpetually referred to the Invisible and Almighty
Father of Life, by sentiments of gratitude or resignation, complacency
or confidence; so that his devotion was not periodical but constant.
But the views of ALMORAN were terminated by nearer objects: his mind was
perpetually busied in the anticipation of pleasures and honours, which
he supposed to be neither uncertain nor remote; these excited his
hopes, with a power sufficient to fix his attention; he did not look
beyond them for other objects, nor enquire how enjoyments more distant
were to be acquired; and as he supposed these to be already secured to
him by his birth, there was nothing he was solicitous to obtain as the
reward of merit, nor any thing that he considered himself to possess as
the bounty of Heaven. If the sublime and disinterested rectitude that
produces and rewards itself, dwells indeed with man, it dwelt not with
ALMORAN: with respect to God, therefore, he was not impressed with a
sense either of duty or dependence; he felt neither reverence nor love,
gratitude nor resignation: in abstaining from evil, he was not
intentionally good; he practised the externals of morality without
virtue, and performed the rituals of devotion without piety.
Such were ALMORAN and HAMET, when Solyman their father, full of days and
full of honour, slept in peace the sleep of death. With this event they
were immediately acquainted. The emotions of ALMORAN were such as it was
impossible to conceal: the joy that he felt in secret was so great, that
the mere dread of disappointment for a moment suspended his belief of
what he heard: when his fears and his doubts gave way, his cheeks were
suffused with sudden blushes, and his eyes sparkled with exultation and
impatience: he looked eagerly about him, as if in haste to act; yet his
looks were embarrassed, and his gestures irresolute, because he knew
not what to do: he uttered some incoherent sentences, which discovered
at once the joy that he felt, and his sense of its impropriety; and his
whole deportment expressed the utmost tumult and perturbation of mind.
Upon HAMET, the death of his father produced a very different effect: as
soon as he heard it, his lips trembled and his countenance grew pale; he
flood motionless a moment, like a pilgrim transfixed by lightning in the
desert; he then smote his breast, and looking upward, his eyes by
degrees overflowed with tears, and they fell, like dew distilling from
the mountain, in a calm and silent shower. As his grief was thus mingled
with devotion, his mind in a short time recovered its tranquillity,
though not its chearfulness, and he desired to be conducted to his
brother.
He found him surrounded by the lords of his court, his eye still
restless and ardent, and his deportment elate and assuming. HAMET
pressed hastily through the circle, and prostrated himself before him:
ALMORAN received the homage with a tumultuous pleasure; but at length
raised him from the ground, and assured him of his protection, though
without any expressions either of kindness or of sorrow: 'HAMET,' says
he, 'if I have no cause to complain of you as a subject, you shall have
no cause to complain of me as a king.' HAMET, whose heart was again
pierced by the cold and distant behaviour of his brother, suppressed the
sigh that struggled in his bosom, and secretly wiped away the tear that
started to his eye: he retired, with his looks fixed upon the ground, to
a remote corner of the apartment; and though his heart yearned to
embrace his brother, his modest diffidence restrained him from intruding
upon the king.
In this situation were ALMORAN and HAMET, when OMAR entered the
apartment. OMAR, upon whose head the hand of time became heavy, had from
his youth acquainted himself with wisdom: to him nature had revealed
herself in the silence of the night, when his lamp was burning alone,
and his eyes only were open: to him was known the power of the Seal of
Solomon; and to him the knowlege of things invisible had been revealed.
Nor was the virtue of OMAR inferior to his knowlege; his heart was a
fountain of good, which though it flowed through innumerable streams was
never dry: yet was the virtue of OMAR cloathed with humility; and he was
still pressing nearer to perfection, by a devotion which though elevated
was rational, and though regular was warm. From the council of OMAR,
Solyman had derived glory and strength; and to him he had committed the
education of his children.
When he entered the apartment, the croud, touched at once with reverence
and love, drew back; every eye was cast downward, and every tongue was
silent. The full of days approached the king, and kneeling before him he
put into his hand a sealed paper: the king received it with impatience,
seeing it superscribed with the hand of his father; and OMAR looking
round, and perceiving HAMET, beckoned him to come forward. HAMET, whose
obedience to OMAR had been so long habitual that it was now almost
spontaneous, instantly drew near, though with a flow and irresolute
pace; and ALMORAN, having broken the seal of the paper, began to read it
to himself, with a look that expressed the utmost anxiety and
impatience. OMAR kept his eye fixed upon him, and soon perceived that
his countenance was disfigured by confusion and trouble, and that he
seemed preparing to put up the paper in his bosom: he then produced
another paper from under his robe, and gave it to HAMET: 'This,' says
he, is a copy of the will of Solyman, your father; the original is in
the hand of ALMORAN: read it, and you will find that he has bequeathed
his kingdom between you.'
The eyes of all present were now turned upon HAMET, who stood silent and
motionless with amazement, but was soon roused to attention by the
homage that was paid him. In the mean time, ALMORAN'S confusion
increased every moment: his disappointment was aggravated by the sudden
attention of those who were present to his brother; and his jealousy
made him think himself neglected, while those acts of duty were
performed to HAMET, which were now known to be his right, and which he
had himself received before him.
HAMET, however, regarded but little what so much excited the envy of
ALMORAN; his mind was employed upon superior objects, and agitated by
nobler passions: the coldness of his brother's behaviour, though it had
grieved had not quenched his affection; and as he was now no longer
restrained by the deference due from a subject to his king, he ran to
him, and catching him to his breast attempted to speak; but his heart
was too full, and he could express his affection and joy only by his
tears. ALMORAN rather suffered than received the embrace; and after a
few ceremonies, to which neither of them could much attend, they retired
to separate apartments.