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.
KALAN was one of the principal favourites of Mahmoud, of whom we have said so much in the preceding article. He had chosen him from among the number of his courtiers, to bestow on him those favours of which royalty was possessed, and which he merited. He was more beholden to nature than to art for his education, which would have been sufficient to make him happy, had it been his lot to live remote from the snares and artifices of a court.
An open and disinterested heart, instead of procuring him love and esteem, often carried him to the brink of ruin; for those with whom he mingled, were artful and treacherous hypocrites, a set of vermin that infest every court. Though he wished to hate no man, yet he could not love those who were every day privately seeking his destruction.
These ungenerous attempts were so often repeated, that Kalan, fearing he should acquire a habit of despising human beings, resolved to retire from the noise and bustle of a court. He was strengthened in this resolution by a review of his affairs, which were so much deranged by his unbounded charity and benevolence, that he found it impossible any longer to support such expences.
Kalan, before he retired to enjoy a peaceful and tranquil life, left the following lines engraven on his door:
"The man who no ingratitude has found,
Has never trod on courtiers' slipp'ry ground."
The calif, having one day heard these lines repeated, desired to know who was the author of them. At this time Kalan was supposed to be dead, and therefore the courtiers had nothing to fear, and no reason to conceal the name of the author. Those people who had formerly returned all his favours with ingratitude, now launched into high encomiums on his merit. In all this there is nothing astonishing. With respect to the arts and sciences, we see how different is the treatment the professors of them receive during their lives, and after they are no more. While living, he could perhaps hardly support his miserable existence; when dead, sumptuous and costly monuments are erected to his memory.
Kalan, having accidentally heard how much Mahmoud was pleased with the inscription on his door, quitted his retreat, and again appeared at Ispahan, to the astonishment of his friends, and the invidious regret of the courtiers. The calif received him kindly, and made him ample amends for all the neglect of his friends. Kalan was put into an office which enabled him to gratify all his beneficent wishes.
As the nettle and the rose thrive together on the same soil, so was the bosom of Kalan not without a weed. His too strong attachment to women sometimes led him astray, and made him unmindful of his duty. The calif was not ignorant of this fault in Kalan, for the courtiers that surrounded him took care that this error should not remain concealed. Mahmoud, though he pitied his weakness, did not esteem him the less on that account. "True it is," said the calif, "that an unbounded passion for women is much to be censured; but this folly will in time forsake him; while ambition, cruelty, and avarice, had any such vices got possession of him, would grow stronger as he advanced in age."
The calif's courtiers extolled the sublimity of this observation; but no sooner had he turned his back on them, than they ridiculed such a paltry idea. How much are courtiers to be pitied, who take so much pains to render themselves contemptible!
Some little time afterwards, the calif gave Kalan a commission to the furthest part of Persia, and fixed even the day and hour when he should expect him back. Kalan immediately set out on his journey, discharged his duty with the strictest punctuality, and returned a day before the time allowed. He received the applause due to his diligence, and was told, that every hour he gained on the stipulated time was of the utmost service to his country.
Kalan was the more pleased with these marks of the calif's approbation, as he received it in the presence of many courtiers, who all showed him the highest marks of applause, while in their hearts they hated and detested him, and envied the honours paid him by the calif.
The next day, however, one of these courtiers, deputed by the rest, approached Mahmoud, and, after bowing to the earth, thus addressed him:—"Most noble and glorious sovereign of the faithful, though I know not the nature of Kalan's late commission, yet I judge it was of the highest importance. Pardon then my zeal if, notwithstanding the transcendent light in which I behold him, I am under the disagreeable necessity of informing your highness, that he presumed to pass five days of that time so precious to the state, in the enjoyment of the pleasures of love."
The calif, astonished at this declaration, told the malevolent informer, that he hoped he could prove what he had asserted. "Dread sovereign," answered he, "his own slave will prove to you, that, at Gauri, nearly a hundred miles from this capital, he loitered in the lap of pleasure. The daughter of a caravanserist had influence over him sufficient to induce him to neglect, for five days, the confidence you had reposed in him, and the most important concerns of the state. If time should prove that I have accused him falsely, let me be the victim of your resentment."
Mahmoud thanked him for his vigilant information, which he presumed could arise from no other motive than his great attachment to his glory; and he assured him, that he would nicely search into the truth of what he had informed him. "Neither will I be forgetful," said the calif, "of the greatness of your soul, which has induced you to sacrifice to my interest the man, you say, you so much admire and revere."
The courtier then bowed his head to the earth, and retired, not much pleased, however, with the last words of the calif, who, he had from thence reason to believe, was not greatly satisfied with the accusation, and who might let fall that vengeance on this head, which he was endeavouring to prepare for another.
Mahmoud presently afterwards sent for Kalan; which being known to the courtiers, they secretly triumphed in the idea, that the hour was hastily approaching, in which they hoped to find their revenge and hatred amply gratified.
As soon as Kalan appeared before the calif, "I will not," said the latter, "ask you any artful questions, such as may lead you inadvertently to criminate yourself; and, in the course of this business I will be your judge and counsellor, and will afford you every opportunity of clearing yourself of the charge laid against you. You cannot forget how precious I told you was the time I allowed you for the completion of your embassy; yet it has been reported to me, that you stopped five days on the road, to enjoy yourself in the lap of pleasure, without blushing at the praises you received for that one day, which I supposed your zeal and attachment to my interest had procured me. Say, are these things true?"
"My dread sovereign," replied Kalan, "had I a soul mean enough of having recourse to a falsehood to cover a crime, I should perhaps answer in the negative; but, sorry I am to say, that the charge is true. I really did saunter away in idleness five whole days at Gauri. I was intoxicated; yes, commander of the faithful, I was intoxicated with a passion that destroyed all my other faculties. I know I have merited death; but it is not the fear of death that terrifies me, but the hateful recollection of having displeased my friend and sovereign. Having completed the business of my embassy, and being arrived, on my return, at Gauri, wanting horses, and my slave too being harassed with the journey, I resolved to stop one night, which was the first I had indulged myself in from the time of my leaving the palace.
"Having taken a little refreshment, and being seated near a window, I suddenly heard a voice in the adjoining chamber strike forth in such melodious notes, that nothing could equal it. I listened with eager attention, and could plainly distinguish they were the lamentations of love. I was in great doubt to determine which were the more excellent, the music or the words. As soon as she had finished, I enquired who she was, and found it was the daughter of my host; that her voice was not her only merit, since the words were of her own composition, and besides, she was said to be as lovely as Venus, and as chaste as Diana.
"No wonder if this description excited my desire to see her; and I begged the caravanserist would gratify my wish. He for some time objected; but I persisted in my request, and at last, his great respect for the ambassador of Mahmoud made him yield to my entreaties. The moment she appeared I was enamoured with her beauty; but, when I heard her play upon her harp, O powerful love! my embassy, my duty as a subject, and the punishment to which my delay might expose me, every thing of this sort was totally forgotten.
"All my thoughts were absorbed at this time in one wish only, that of being beloved by Zada. I offered my hand in marriage, but during two days she made many trifling excuses. On the third day she confessed, that if ever she could love any man, it probably would be me. The fourth day she received my addresses, and on the fifth gave me every thing to hope for. On the arrival of the evening of this day, she happened to mention your name, when, recollecting myself, I became fully sensible of my guilt. She perceived my confusion, and begged to know the cause of it. As soon as I told her, she insisted on my setting out that night—that very night on which I promised myself so much felicity.
"Sensible I am that I merit death, for having thus shamefully neglected my duty; but one thing I have to beg, that my sufferings may not be long."
All was silent for a few moments. After which said the calif—"Your punishment shall be the slowest that human ingenuity can possibly invent. Imprisonment shall be your fate as long as life shall be able to support it. Take him hence, soldiers, and let his treatment henceforward be the severest man can endure."
The soldiers conducted Kalan to his place of confinement, and the courtiers followed him with their eyes, which seemed to be moistened with tears, while their hearts rejoiced in his disgrace.
In about an hour or two after this event, it was reported, that the calif had dispatched a messenger; but no one could tell whither, or on what account. In the course of the five following days, the name of Kalan was forgotten; but on the sixth, to the astonishment of every one, the calif ordered him again to be brought before him.
As soon as Kalan appeared, the calif, after asking him some taunting questions, "Yes," said he, "a song on some voluptuous subject, and a harp in that fair damsel's hand you saw upon your journey, made you negligent of what you knew your duty. I am, therefore, resolved both to punish and remind you of the fault you have committed, by decreeing, that in future you shall listen to such songs as are descriptive of complaining lovers. Let the Egyptian take her harp and play upon it."
Instantly was heard a voice so sweet, that Mahmoud's courtiers scarce dared to breathe, for fear of interrupting so much harmony. As soon as it began, the prisoner gave a cry, fell down, and beat the ground with his forehead.
"Rise, Kalan," said the calif, "and hear your sentence. You that at present surround my throne," speaking to his courtiers, "who so often stand in need of indulgence, tell me, which among you, being in Kalan's place, on the point of having all his wishes accomplished, and after having passed five days in the pursuit of it, would not have presumed to hazard a sixth day?" (Here a pause ensued.) "No answer?—Kalan, since even envy thus keeps silence, you find favour with your king. Take your Zada, therefore, and be happy for the time to come; she is now yours."
Kalan, after having thrown himself at the feet of the calif, was no sooner risen up than he flew into the arms of his beloved Zada. They retired in mutual embraces; and the courtiers with hearts full of envy and fell malignity.
THE Rev. Mr. Sherlock being one day in company with a number of young ladies, the conversation happened to turn on the courage of their own sex. One observed, that Miss Lovelace had a resolution above being curbed by her guardians, and was determined to dress as she liked; while another gave it as her opinion, that it would be better for her to check her temper, and submit to the will of her guardians. "If ever I should be married," said one of the young ladies, "I think I shall have courage enough to make my husband do as I please."—"You may be right, miss," said another, "but I think, should I ever be married, I shall always consult my husband's opinion, and readily submit to it, whenever reason seems to require it."
The young ladies kept up this kind of conversation for some time; when, at last, finding their opinions were so different, they requested the reverend divine to give them his sentiments, wherein true female courage consisted.
"I have," said Dr. Sherlock, "been listening to your conversation, and, as you have been pleased to appeal to me, I shall speak truth, without the least reserve. I hope you will attend to what I am going to say, and treasure it up in your minds.
"I consider true courage as one of the noblest ornaments of the fair sex, since it must be allowed, that without a becoming resolution, many female accomplishments would be lost, and sunk in obscurity, and that even virtue itself, unassisted by true courage, would soon dwindle to a shadow. I doubt not but that each of you amiable young ladies flatter yourselves with being possessed of this noble accomplishment; but permit me to tell you, that it is not every possessor of a pretty face who knows what it is. It is not Xantippe, but Lucretia, whom I call the woman of true courage.
"Xantippe is the daughter of two noble personages, and the wife of a sensible and prudent man; the mother of a blooming offspring, and the sole mistress of a plentiful fortune, the produce of which her husband cannot receive without her order. Elated with the thoughts of her high birth, and sensible of the dependence her husband has on her will, she subjects him to the most rigorous discipline, is cruelly severe to her children, and arbitrary and tyrannical over her servants.—Insolent and disdainful in her behaviour to her equals, and haughty and arrogant in her demeanour to her superiors, her jealousy is equalled only by her ill-nature; the most innocent freedom of her husband to a visitor is sufficient to give rise to the former; and the most trifling repartee is sure to occasion the latter. These are her qualities, which she is so far from endeavouring to amend, that she considers them as marks of true courage; or, to speak in a more polite phrase, they make her pass for a woman of spirit!
"How reverse is the conduct of Lucretia!—Possessed of no other fortune than what good sense and a proper education give her, she passes through life with peace and serenity of mind.—The will of her husband, the care of her children, and the due preservation of order and economy in her house, are her principal studies. Easy, good-natured, and affable to her equals, and humble, submissive, and obliging to her superiors; as no height of prosperity makes her forgetful of adversity, so no storms of angry fortune are able to disturb the calm within her breast, or deprive her of that hope with which true courage will always support those who possess it.
"True courage, rightly understood, and properly cultivated, will inspire the fair sex with the noblest sentiments of honour and generosity. It will elevate their minds above those mean and paltry methods, which too many of them put in practice, to captivate the hearts of the giddy and unthinking. It will raise in them a noble and emulative zeal for literary studies, which will rescue them from the odium that is too frequently, and too justly, cast on many of them, of being pretty, but silly, prattling creatures. It is true courage only that can raise in them such sentiments as shall preserve them the esteem and affection of all, when the bloom of youth shall be lost in the evening of life; when the lily and rose shall fade on their cheek, and the beautiful form of their persons can be no longer admired.
"I have now, young ladies, given you my opinion of what really ought to be considered as true courage in your sex, and I hope it will have some influence on your minds, as well as on your conduct in the commerce of this busy world. It is not at all surprising, that you young ladies should differ in your opinions on so delicate a question, since true courage is, in these times of refinement, considered in a very different light to what it was in the remote ages of antiquity. In order to amuse you, and perhaps instruct you, I shall beg your attention to a piece of ancient history; from which you will judge what was the barbarous ideas the ladies of antiquity had of true courage.
"Mithridates, king of Pontus, proving unsuccessful in the war in which he was engaged against Lucullus, a Roman general, had shut up two of his wives (for the custom of that country allowed of a plurality) and two of his sisters, whom he most loved, in that part of his kingdom which was the most remote from danger. At last, not being able to brook the apprehensions of their falling into the hands of the Romans, he sent orders to Bacchalides, a eunuch, to put them to death. The manner in which they received this order, strongly marks the ideas the ladies of those times and regions had of true courage.
"Berenice and Monimes were these unfortunate princesses. The first was born in the island of Chio, and the other in Miletus, a city of Ionia, towards the borders of Cairo, on the coast of the Ægean Sea. Monimes was celebrated for the invincible resistance which she made to all the offers of Mithridates, who was most violently in love with her, and to which she never consented, till he had declared her queen, by calling her his wife, and sending her the royal diadem—a ceremony indispensable in the marriage of kings in that part of the world.
"However, even then she consented with reluctance, and only to gratify the inclinations of her family, who were dazzled with the lustre of the crown and power of Mithridates, who was at that time victorious and loaded with glory. Monimes abandoned herself to a perpetual melancholy, which the abject slavery in which Mithridates kept his wives, the distance she then was from Greece, where she had no hopes of returning, and perhaps too, a secret passion, which she always disguised, rendered insurmountable.
"When Bacchalides had declared to them the fatal message, and that they were at liberty to chuse what death appeared to them the most easy, Monimes tore off the royal bandage which she always wore on her head, and, fixing it round her neck, endeavoured to strangle herself; but the bandage broke, and left her in a condition truly to be pitied. 'Unfortunate diadem,' said she, trampling it under her feet, 'thou hast brought me to all my miseries! thou hast been witness of my slavery and wretchedness! Why wouldst thou not at last help me to put an end to them all?'—After having shown these marks of her resentment, she snatched a dagger from the hand of Bacchalides, and sheathed it in her bosom.
"Berenice swallowed the dreadful potion with astonishing resolution, and obeyed, without murmuring, the frenzy of a barbarous lover.
"The king's two sisters, Statira and Roxana, followed the example of Berenice. Roxana, after having a long time kept a profound silence, swallowed the fatal draught, and died without uttering a single word. As for Statira, after having shown her grief for the king's defeat, she highly praised his conduct, and ordered Bacchalides to thank him for thinking of her amidst the wreck of his affairs, and thereby securing her, by a timely death, from the shameful slavery of the Romans."
Dr. Sherlock having now finished, the young ladies all rose and thanked him for the instruction he had been pleased to give them. They assured him, that they should in future endeavour to distinguish between the true courage of these modern times, and those in which lived the wives and sisters of Mithridates.
ONE of the kings of Balsora proved unfortunate in the choice of his queen, whose temper was as disgustful and displeasing as her person was lovely and beautiful. Discontented with every one around her, she made her own life miserable, and did all she could to interrupt the happiness of others.
They had an only son, and his father began very early to turn his thoughts, in what manner he should secure the young prince, when he came of age, from forming a connection in matrimony so disagreeable as his own. "If it should please Heaven," said he, "to spare my life till my son shall attain the years of discretion, I then shall be able properly to direct him in the search of a prudent wife; but, as there is no certainty in human life, and as I may be taken from him in his early days, before he can be capable of comprehending my admonitions, I will leave proper instructions with my executors, who, I hope, will fulfil my requests, when I shall be at rest in my peaceful grave."
In consequence of this resolution, the king took every precaution he thought necessary in so important a business; and scarcely had he finished his regulations, when the unrelenting decree of death summoned him from this world to take up his eternal abode in the ever-blooming regions of felicity.
No sooner was the king dead than his will was examined. By this it was directed, that his son Achmet should be instructed in all the principles of rigid virtue, and in every scientific accomplishment necessary to form the mind of a wise and good prince. It was also directed, that at the age of eighteen years he should be put in possession of all his wealth, which was deposited in spacious vaults under the palace. The will, however, strongly directed that these vaults were not to be opened, under any pretence whatever, before the appointed time, on pain of Achmet losing the whole contents of them.
It may easily be supposed what were the anxieties of a youthful mind, while he waited with impatience for the arrival of that day, which was to make him master of so many hidden treasures. At length the day arrived, the vaults were opened, and the heart of Achmet leaped within his bosom at the sight of such unbounded riches.
Amidst all this glare of profuse wealth, in one particular apartment of the vault, the eye of Achmet was caught by the dazzling view of nine pedestals of massy gold, on eight of which stood as many beautiful adamantine statues.
Achmet could not help expressing his astonishment, where his father could collect such uncommon and valuable curiosities. The ninth pedestal, however, increased his surprise, and he could not conceive why that alone should be without a statue on it. On going nearer to it, he found it covered with a piece of satin, upon which were written these words: "My dear Achmet, the acquisition of these statues has cost your father much; yet, beautiful as they are, you see there is one wanting, which is far more brilliant than either of those which now present themselves to your view. This, however, must be sought for in a remote quarter of the world, and, if you wish to be possessed of it, you must depart for Cairo, in the kingdom of Egypt. You will there find one Alibeg, formerly one of my slaves. Inform him who you are, and what is your business. He will properly direct your pursuits after this incomparable statue, the possession of which will make you one of the happiest and greatest monarchs of the East."
As soon as Achmet had appointed proper persons to govern his kingdom in his absence, he set out in quest of this grand object. He pursued his journey without any thing particular happening; and, on his arrival at Cairo, he soon found out the house of Alibeg, who was supposed to be one of the richest persons in that city.
As Alibeg knew the time was nearly advanced, in which he was to expect a visit from Achmet, the arrival of the latter at Cairo did not at all surprise him. However, he appeared ignorant of the business; enquired of him what brought him to that city, his name, and his profession. To all these questions Achmet gave the most satisfactory answers; and informed him, that it was a statue he was engaged in the pursuit of.
This declaration of Achmet seemed at once to convince Alibeg, that he was talking with the son of the late king; and he blessed the great prophet for permitting him so honourable an interview. "My dear and honoured prince," said Alibeg, "your father bought me as a slave, and never made me free; consequently I am a slave still, and all my property is yours."—"From this moment," replied Achmet, "you are a free man, and I for ever renounce any future claim on your person or possessions."
Alibeg then assured the young king, that he would do every thing in his power to procure him the ninth statue he was so ardent in the pursuit of; but advised him, after so fatiguing a journey, to take a few weeks rest. The next day, however, the king told Alibeg, that he was sufficiently rested; that he came not there for pleasure, and therefore wished immediately to enter on the pursuit of his grand object.
Alibeg told him, that he should certainly obtain his wish; but reminded him, that he must encounter much toil and fatigue before he could accomplish that desirable end. "I fear neither toils nor fatigues," replied the young king, "I am equal to the task, and by the blessing of the great prophet I will undertake any thing, however difficult it may appear. I entreat you only to let me know what part I am to act."
Alibeg, after a short pause, thus addressed his youthful sovereign: "You must swear to me by the holy prophet, that, when you set out from hence, you will immediately return to your own dominions. As soon as you arrive on the borders of it, you will immediately proceed on the search of what I am going to direct you to. Your search must be to find out a youthful female, whose age must not exceed sixteen years, nor be less than fifteen. She must be the offspring of virtuous parents, and who has never been the dupe to a previous passion of love. She must be as lovely as Venus, as chaste as Diana, and a native of your own kingdom. You must, therefore, traverse every part of your extensive dominions; and as soon as you shall be so fortunate to find one who corresponds with this description, you must bring her to me, and I will soon after put you in possession of the statue you sigh for. Remember, however, that should your pursuits be attended with success, you must have the most rigorous command over your passions while you are conducting the fair one hither, and not have even the least conversation with her. If this last condition be not punctually fulfilled, you will lose all claim to what you are now in pursuit of. Consider within yourself, whether the possession of the statue has so many charms in it, as to enable you to surmount all these obstacles, so difficult to one of your age."
The young king, with an ardour natural to a youth of his years, was going to reply, when Alibeg, stopped him, by saying, that he had not yet done, but had still something further to say on the subject.
"You may idly imagine," continued Alibeg, "that should you be fortunate enough to find such a maiden as I have described to you, and your youthful ideas should lead you astray, you may imagine they will not be discovered; but herein you will be mistaken, for the great prophet will reveal your deceit, and you will thereby infallibly lose all pretensions to the statue. I must tell you still further, that, in order to give a sanction to your search for so virtuous a maiden, you must cause it to be reported, that you mean to make her the lawful partner of your throne."
Achmet listened with attention to every word that dropt from the mouth of Alibeg, and in proportion as difficulties were mentioned to him, the more did his youthful bosom burn to show how much he was above them. He eagerly took the oath prescribed to him, grew more and more impatient to become possessed of the statue, and thought every hour an age that retarded his departure in pursuit of his favourite object.
The next morning, Alibeg, being unwilling to abate the ardour of the young prince, presented him with a looking-glass. "I here give you," said he to Achmet, "an invaluable present. In the course of your pursuit, you will meet with many beautiful damsels, fair to external appearance as Aurora herself; but outward forms may deceive you, and what your eye may applaud, your heart, on a more intimate acquaintance, may despise. Believe me, royal youth, the beauties of the person and those of the mind are very different. A degenerate and wicked heart may be concealed under the most lovely external appearances. Whenever, therefore, you meet with a beautiful female, whose charms may dazzle your eye, tell her to breathe upon this mirror. If she be chaste, her breath will not long remain upon the glass; but, if her pretensions are not founded in truth, her breath will long remain on the mirror, as a testimony of the falsehood she has advanced."
These useful lessons, which Alibeg gave his royal pupil, were not the result of thoughts of his own, but were the consequence of the wise plan the late king of Balsora had prescribed for his son. He well knew that little artifices of this nature seldom failed of succeeding with youthful minds naturally fond of mystery.
The young prince took an affectionate leave of Alibeg, promised to be punctual to all his instructions, and then, taking up his miraculous glass, took the direct road from Egypt to Balsora. His intention was to commence his enquiries as soon as he reached the borders of his dominions; but a thought struck him, that it would be mean in him to seek the wished-for damsel among shepherds and peasants, when his own court furnished such a display of beauties.
As soon as he arrived in his own dominions, he proclaimed the resolution he had taken concerning marriage. He invited every maiden of fifteen years of age, who was born of virtuous parents, and had never experienced the passion of love, to repair to his court, out of which he proposed to chuse the fortunate partner of his crown and empire.
This proclamation soon surrounded his palace with the first beauties of the kingdom; but as soon as the king presented to them the mirror, which was to be the touchstone of their prudence, they all shrunk back from the trying ordeal, conscious that they could not, with safety to their characters, run the hazard of such a trial.
Here it seems necessary to say a few words by way of explanation, lest the youthful part of my readers should be led into an error. The properties which Alibeg ascribed to this looking-glass were merely fabulous, and calculated only to strike a terror on the minds of youthful females, who, from the apprehensions of being discovered in their attempt to deceive an eastern monarch, refused to breathe on the glass. So that the young prince could not find, in any part of his capital, a maiden of fifteen perfectly answerable to the terms proposed by Alibeg.
Achmet, being thus disappointed in his capital, traversed every part of his dominions, and visited even the most sequestered villages; but he every where found the morals of the people so very corrupt, that no maiden could be found who would venture to look on the mirror, which they apprehended would reveal their most trifling defects. Achmet, therefore, began to be disheartened, and feared he should at last be disappointed in the grand object of his pursuit, and never be able to obtain the statue he so ardently sighed for.
As he was one evening reposing himself in a mean habitation, situated in a lonely and recluse village, an iman came to pay him a visit, having previously learned what was the cause of the king's journey. "I must confess," said he to the king, "that your majesty is engaged in a very difficult pursuit; and I should be led to believe, that all your researches would be in vain, did I not know of a beautiful damsel, who perfectly answers to the description of your wants. Her father was formerly a vizier of Balsora; but he has now left the court, and leads a private and recluse life, solely occupied in the education of his daughter. If it is your pleasure, royal sir, I will to-morrow attend you to the habitation of this lovely damsel. Her father will undoubtedly be exceedingly happy to have the king of Balsora for his son-in-law."
Achmet very prudently replied, "I cannot think of promising to marry the beauty you mention till I have seen her, and have put her to those trials which none have yet been able to withstand. I am satisfied with your account of her beauty, but I must have proof of her virtue and prudence." The king then told him of the glass he had in his possession, and which had hitherto so far terrified every damsel, that none had dared to look into it.
The iman, however, still persisted in every thing he had advanced concerning this beautiful female; and, in consequence, they went the next morning to see her and her father. As soon as the old gentleman was acquainted with the real character and business of his royal visitor, he ordered his daughter Elvira to attend unveiled. The king was struck with wonder and astonishment, when he beheld in this beautiful damsel such perfections as his court could not equal. After gazing on her some time with inexpressible astonishment, he pulled out his glass, and acquainted the lovely Elvira with the severe trial she would be put to on looking into that mirror of truth. Her conscious innocence derided all fear, she breathed on the glass without the least apprehension, when the high-polished surface rejected the breath thrown on it, and soon recovered its usual brightness.
As Achmet was now in possession of the person he had so long wished for, he asked her father to give him his permission to marry her; to which he readily consented, and the marriage ceremony was performed with all the decency a country village would admit of.
Achmet, however, could not help feeling the impressions which the charms of Elvira had made on his mind; and, though he hastened the preparations for his departure, yet it was with evident marks of reluctance. The vizier, who attended him in the pursuit of this fair one, plainly perceived it, and enquired the cause of it.
It seemed very singular to Achmet, that the vizier should ask him such a question. "Can there be any creature," said he, "more lovely than the angel I have married? Can you be any ways surprised, should I be tempted to dispute the instructions of Alibeg, and place her as the partner of my throne?"
"Be cautious what you do," said the vizier. "It will not be becoming of a prince like you, to lose the statue after you have done so much to obtain it." This rebuke roused him, and he determined not to lose it; but he desired the vizier to keep her from his sight, as he feared he had seen her too much already.
As soon as every thing was ready, Achmet set out for Cairo, and on his arrival there was introduced to Alibeg. The fair bride had performed the journey in a litter, and had not seen the prince since she was married. She enquired where she was, and whether that was her husband's palace.
"It is time, madam," said Alibeg, "to undeceive you. Prince Achmet only aimed at getting you from your father as a present to our sultan, who wishes to have in his possession such a beautiful living picture as you are." At these words Elvira shed a torrent of tears, which greatly affected both Achmet and Alibeg. As soon as her grief would permit her to speak, "How can you," said she, "be so treacherous to a stranger! Surely the great prophet will call you to an account for this act of perfidy!"
However, her tears and arguments were in vain. Achmet, indeed, seemed to feel for her situation, which Alibeg viewed with pleasure. "You have now performed your promise," said he to Achmet, "by bringing hither this beautiful virgin. The sultan will undoubtedly reward you, by putting you in possession of the statue you seek after. I will immediately send a person to Balsora to fetch the pedestal; and, within the compass of nine days, you may expect to see it and the statue in one of the apartments of my palace; for surely you only are worthy of such a precious possession."
Elvira was immediately separated from Achmet; she made the bitterest bewailings, and wished for death to hide her sorrows and disgrace. Notwithstanding the fond desire of Achmet to be in possession of the statue, he could not reconcile his mind to the hard fate of Elvira. He reproached himself with having taken her from an indulgent father, to throw her into the arms of a tyrant. He would sometimes say with a sigh, "O beautiful damsel, cruel indeed is your condition!"
At the expiration of the nine days, which had passed between hope and sorrow, Achmet was conducted into an apartment of the palace, in order to be put in possession of the inestimable statue. But it is impossible to express his astonishment and surprise, when, instead of such a figure as he expected, he beheld the beautiful maiden he had seduced from her father.
"Achmet," said the lovely virgin, "I doubt not but your expectations are sadly disappointed, in finding me here, instead of the inestimable statue you expected, and to obtain which you have taken so much pains." As soon as Achmet had recovered from his surprise, "The great prophet can bear me witness," said he, "that I was frequently tempted to break the oath I had solemnly taken to Alibeg, and to sacrifice the idea of every statue in the world to you. I love my dear, beautiful Elvira more than all the world besides!"
"Prince Achmet," said Alibeg, "this is the ninth statue, which you have so long been in pursuit of, and which was the intentions of your father, who had contrived this method, in order to procure you a queen with whom you might be happy. Love her tenderly, be faithful to her, and in proportion as you endeavour to procure her happiness so will she yours."
Achmet, enraptured with the lovely countenance and virtuous dispositions of his dear Elvira, that day proclaimed her queen of Balsora, and thereby amply made her amends for the short disquietude he had occasioned her.
We may from hence draw this conclusion, that merit is not every where to be found; but, like diamonds of the first lustre, take up much toil and time in the pursuit. What we gain too easily, we are apt to think too little of; and we are accustomed to estimate the value of every thing in proportion to the care and pains it costs us. This the wise father of Achmet well knew, and therefore devised those means which were most likely to enable him to discover the woman of beauty, virtue, and prudence, without leaving him any hopes of finding it in the lap of pride, indolence, and luxury.