The Compiler of the graceful little volume which I have the pleasure of introducing to the public, has conferred an undeniable benefit upon the youth of England by presenting to them a collection of Oriental Tales, which, rich in the elements of interest and entertainment, are nevertheless entirely free from the licentiousness which renders so many of the fictions of the East, beautiful and brilliant as they are, most objectionable for young and ardent minds. There is indeed no lack of the wonderful in the pages before us, any more than in the Arabian and Persian Tales already so well known: but it will be seen that the supernatural agency in the narratives is used as a means to work out totally different results. There is, in truth, scarcely one of these Tales which does not inculcate a valuable moral lesson; as may be seen by reference to "The Powder of Longevity," "The Old Camel," and "The Story of the Dervise Abounadar" among several, others.
The present collection of Eastern Stories has been principally derived from the works of different Oriental Scholars on the Continent, and little doubt can be entertained of the genuineness of their origin; while they have been carefully selected, and do honour to the good taste of their Compiler. An acknowledgment is also due to him for his adherence to the good old orthography to which we have all been accustomed from our childhood, in the case of such titles as "Caliph," "Vizier," "Houri," "Genii," &c.; as, however critically correct and learned the spelling of Mr. Lane may be in his magnificent version of the "Thousand and One Nights," and however appropriate to a work of so much research and value to Oriental students, it would have been alike fatiguing and out of character to have embarrassed a volume, simply intended for the amusement of youthful readers, by a number of hard and unfamiliar words, difficult of pronunciation to all save the initiated; and for the pleasure of the young requiring translation fully as much as the narrative itself.
In one of the Tales there will be at once detected a portion of the favourite old story of Aladdin's Lamp, in the subterranean gem-garden discovered by the handsome youth; while in another, mention is made of the already-familiar legend of the hidden city of Ad, so popular among the ancient Arabs[1]; but these repetitions will cease to create any surprise when it is remembered that the professional story-tellers of the East are a wandering race, who travel from city to city, exhibiting their talent during seasons of festivity, in the palaces of the wealthy and the public coffee-houses. Those admitted to the women's apartments are universally aged crones, whose volubility is something marvellous; and they are always welcome guests to the indolent beauties, who listen to them for hours together without a symptom of weariness, as they pour forth their narratives in a monotonous voice strangely displeasing to European ears. The men, while reciting their tales, indulge in violent gesticulations and contortions of the body, which appear to produce great delight in their audience. Since they generally travel two or three in company; and, save in rare cases of improvisation, their stock of narrative is common to all, it is their ambition so individually to embellish, heighten, and amplify their subject-matter, as to outshine their competitors; and it is consequently to this cause that the numerous variations of the same Tale which have reached Europe must be attributed.
[1] Most of our readers will also recognize in the Story of the Princess Schirine the groundwork of one of Hans Andersen's beautiful Danish Tales, "The Flying Trunk."
Taken altogether, there can be no doubt that the "Thousand and One Days" merit the warm welcome which I trust awaits them.
J. P.
London, Feb. 1857.
Theilon, caliph of Egypt, died, after having bequeathed his power to his son, Mohammed, who, like a wise and good prince, proceeded to root out abuses, and finally caused peace and justice to flourish throughout his dominions. Instead of oppressing his people by new taxes, he employed the treasures, which his father had amassed by violence, in supporting learned men, rewarding the brave, and assisting the unfortunate. Every thing succeeded under his happy sway; the risings of the Nile were regular and abundant; every year the soil produced rich harvests; and commerce, honoured and protected, caused the gold of foreign nations to flow abundantly into the ports of Egypt.
Mohammed determined, one day, to take the census of the officers of his army, and of all the persons in public situations whose salaries were paid out of the treasury. The vizirs, to the number of forty, first made their appearance and knelt in succession before the sovereign. They were, for the most part, men venerable from their age, and some of them had long beards of snowy whiteness. They all wore on their heads tiaras of gold, enriched with precious stones, and carried in their hands long staves as badges of their power. One enumerated the battles in which he had been engaged, and the honourable wounds he had received; another recounted the long and laborious studies he had pursued, in order to render himself master of the various sciences, and to qualify himself to serve the state by his wisdom and knowledge.
After the vizirs, came the governors of provinces, the generals, and the great officers of the army; and next to them the civil magistrates, and all who were entrusted with the preservation of the peace and the awarding of justice. Behind these walked the public executioner, who, although stout and well-fed, like a man who had nothing to do, went along as if depressed with grief, and instead of carrying his sword naked on his shoulder, he kept it in its scabbard. When he came into the presence of the prince, he threw himself at his feet, and exclaimed, "O mighty prince, the day of justice and of munificence is at last about to dawn on me! Since the death of the terrible Theilon, under whose reign my life was happy and my condition prosperous, I have seen my occupation and its emoluments diminish daily. If Egypt continue thus to live in peace and plenty, I shall run great danger of perishing with hunger, and my family will be brought to misery and ruin."
Mohammed listened in silence to the complaints of the headsman, and acknowledged that there was some foundation for them, for his salary was small, and the chief part of his profits arose from what he obtained from criminals, either by way of gift, or as a rightful fee. In times of trouble, quarrelling, and violence, he had lived, in fact, in a state of ease and affluence, while now, under the present prosperous reign, he had nothing better than the prospect of beggary before him.
"Is it then true," exclaimed the caliph, "that the happiness of all is a dream? that what is joy to one, may be the cause of grief to another? O executioner, fear not as to your fate! May it, indeed, please God that, under my reign, your sword—which is almost as often an instrument of vengeance as of justice—may remain useless and covered with rust. But, in order to enable you to provide for the wants of yourself and your family, without the unhappy necessity of exercising your fatal office, you shall receive every year the sum of two hundred dinars."
In this way all the officers and servants of the palace passed before the notice of the prince; he interrogated each on the nature of his occupation and his past services, on his means of existence, and on the salary which he received. When he found that any one held a situation of a painful and difficult nature, for which he was inadequately remunerated, the caliph diminished his duties and increased his pay; and, on the other hand, when he found the contrary to be the case, he lessened the salary and increased the duties of the office. After having, in this way, performed many acts of wisdom and justice, the caliph observed, among the officers of the civil service, a sheik, whose wrinkled countenance and stooping figure indicated his great age. The caliph called him up, in order to inquire what was his employment in the palace, and the sum which it yielded him.
"Prince," the old man replied, "my only employment is to take care of a chest that was committed to my charge by your father, the late caliph, and for attending to which he allowed me ten pieces of gold a month."
"It seems to me," replied Mohammed, "that the reward is great for so slight a service. Pray what are the contents of this chest?"
"I received it," replied the sheik, "in charge forty years ago, and I solemnly swear to you that I know not what it contains."
The caliph commanded the chest to be brought to him, which was of pure gold, and most richly adorned. The old man opened it. It contained a manuscript written in brilliant characters on the skin of a gazelle, painted purple and sprinkled with a red dust. Neither the prince, however, nor his ministers, nor the ulemas who were present, could decipher the writing. By the caliph's order, the wise men of Egypt were summoned, as well as others from Syria, Persia, and India, but to no purpose; not one was able to interpret the mysterious characters. The book remained open for a long time, exposed to the gaze of all, and a great reward was offered to any one who could bring forward a person of sufficient learning to read it.
Some time after this, a savant who had left Egypt in the reign of Theilon, and had now returned after a long absence, chanced to hear of the mysterious book, and said that he knew what it was, and could explain its history. The caliph immediately admitted him to an audience, and the old man addressed him as follows:
"O sovereign ruler, may the Almighty prolong your days! Only one man can read this book, its rightful master, the sheik Hassan Abdallah, son of El-Achaar. This man had travelled through many lands, and penetrated into the mysterious city of Aram, built on columns, from which he brought this book, which no one but himself could read. He made use of it in his experiments in alchemy, and by its aid he could transmute the most worthless metals into gold. The caliph Theilon, your father, having learned this, commanded the sage to be brought before him, with a view of compelling him to reveal the secret of his knowledge. Hassan Abdallah refused to do so, for fear of putting into the hands of the unjust an instrument of such terrible power; and the prince, in a rage, laid hold of the chest, and ordered the sage to be thrown into prison, where he still remains, unless he has died since that time, which is forty years ago."
On hearing this, Mohammed immediately despatched his officers to visit the prisons, and, on their return, learned with pleasure that Hassan was still alive. The caliph ordered him to be brought forth and arrayed in a dress of honour; and, on his appearing in the audience chamber, the prince made him sit down beside him, and begged him to forgive the unjust treatment which his father had caused him to undergo. He then told him how he had accidentally discovered that he was still alive; and at last, placing the mysterious book before him, said,
"Old man, if this book could make me the owner of all the treasures of the world, I would not consent to possess it, since it only belongs to me by injustice and violence."
On hearing these words, Hassan burst into tears.
"O God," he exclaimed, "all wisdom proceeds from Thee! Thou causest to arise from the same soil the poisonous and the wholesome plant. Every where good is placed by the side of evil. This prince, the support of the feeble, the defender of the oppressed, who has conferred on me the happiness of spending my remaining years in the light of day, is the son of the tyrant who plunged Egypt in mourning, and who kept me for forty years in a loathsome dungeon. Prince," added the old man, addressing Mohammed, "what I refused to the wrath of your father, I willingly grant to your virtues: this book contains the precepts of the true science, and I bless Heaven that I have lived long enough to teach it to you. I have often risked my life to become the master of this wonderful book, which was the only article of value that I brought from Aram, that city into which no man can enter who is not assisted by Heaven."
The caliph embraced the old man, and, calling him his father, begged him to relate what he had seen in the city of Aram.
"Prince," replied Hassan, "it is a long story, as long, nearly, as my whole life."
He then proceeded as follows.
I am the only son of one of the richest inhabitants of Egypt. My father, who was a man of extensive knowledge, employed my youth in the study of science; and at twenty years of age I was already honourably mentioned among the ulemas, when my father bestowed a young maiden on me as my wife, with eyes brilliant as the stars, and with a form elegant and light as that of the gazelle. My nuptials were magnificent, and my days flowed on in peace and happiness. I lived thus for ten years, when at last this beautiful dream vanished. It pleased Heaven to afflict me with every kind of misfortune: the plague deprived me of my father; war destroyed my dear brothers; my house fell a prey to the flames; my richly-laden ships were buried beneath the waves. Reduced to misery and want, my only resource was in the mercy of God and the compassion of the faithful whom I met while I frequented the mosques. My sufferings, from my own wretched state of poverty, and that of my wife and children, were cruel indeed. One day when I had not received any charitable donations, my wife, weeping, took some of my clothes, and gave them to me in order to sell them at the bazaar. On the way thither I met an Arab of the desert, mounted on a red camel. He greeted me, and said,
"Peace be with you, my brother! Can you tell me where the sheik Hassan Abdallah, the son of El-Achaar, resides in the city?"
Being ashamed of my poverty, and thinking I was not known, I replied,
"There is no man at Cairo of that name."
"God is great!" exclaimed the Arab; "are you not Hassan Abdallah, and can you send away your guest by concealing your name?"
Greatly confused, I then begged him to forgive me, and laid hold of his hands to kiss them, which he would not permit me to do, and I then accompanied him to my house. On the way there I was tormented by the reflection that I had nothing to set before him; and when I reached home I informed my wife of the meeting I had just had.
"The stranger is sent by God," said she; "and even the children's bread shall be his. Go, sell the clothes which I gave you; buy some food for our guest with the money, and if any thing should remain over, we will partake of it ourselves."
In going out it was necessary that I should pass through the apartment where the Arab was. As I concealed the clothes, he said to me, "My brother, what have you got there hid under your cloak?"
I replied that it was my wife's dress, which I was carrying to the tailor.
"Show it to me," he said. I showed it to him, blushing.
"O merciful God," he exclaimed, "you are going to sell it in order to get money to enable you to be hospitable towards me! Stop, Hassan! here are ten pieces of gold; spend them in buying what is needful for our own wants and for those of your family."
I obeyed, and plenty and happiness seemed to revisit my abode. Every day the Arab gave me the same sum, which, according to his orders, I spent in the same way; and this continued for fifteen days. On the sixteenth day my guest, after chatting on indifferent matters, said to me, "Hassan, would you like to sell yourself to me?"
"My lord," I replied, "I am already yours by gratitude."
"No," he replied, "that is not what I mean; I wish to make you my property, and you shall fix the price yourself."
Thinking he was joking, I replied, "The price of a freeman is one thousand dinars if he is killed at a single blow; but if many wounds are inflicted upon him, or if he should be cut in many pieces, the price is then one thousand five hundred dinars."
"Very well," answered my guest, "I will pay you this last-mentioned sum if you will consent to the bargain."
When I saw that he was speaking seriously, I asked for time in order to consult my family.
"Do so," he replied, and then went out to look after some affairs in the city.
When I related the strange proposal of my guest, my mother said, "What can this man want to do with you?" The children all clung to me, and wept. My wife, who was a wise and prudent woman, remarked,
"This detestable stranger wants, perhaps, to get back what he has spent here. You have nothing but this wretched house, sell it, and give him the money, but don't sell yourself."
I passed the rest of the day and the following night in reflection, and was in a state of great uncertainty. With the sum offered by the stranger I could at least secure bread for my family. But why wish to purchase me? What could he intend to do? Before next morning, however, I had come to a decision. I went to the Arab and said, "I am yours." Untying his sash, he took out one thousand five hundred gold pieces, and giving them to me, said, "Fear not, my brother, I have no designs against either your life or your liberty; I only wish to secure a faithful companion during a long journey which I am about to undertake."
Overwhelmed with joy, I ran with the money to my wife and mother; but they, without listening to my explanations, began weeping and crying as if they were lamenting for the dead.
"It is the price of flesh and blood," they exclaimed; "neither we nor our children will eat bread procured at such a cost!"
By dint of argument, however, I succeeded at length in subduing their grief; and having embraced them, together with my children, I set out to meet my new master.
By order of the Arab I purchased a camel renowned for its speed, at the price of a hundred drachms; I filled our sacks with food sufficient for a long period; and then, mounting our camels, we proceeded on our journey.
We soon reached the desert. Here no traces of travellers were to be seen, for the wind effaced them continually from the surface of the moving sand. The Arab was guided in his course by indications known only to himself. We travelled thus together for five days under a burning sun; each day seemed longer to me than a night of suffering or of fear. My master, who was of a lively disposition, kept up my courage by tales which I remember even now with pleasure after forty years of anguish; and you will forgive an old man for not being able to resist the pleasure of relating some of them to you. The following story, he said, had been recounted to him by the basket-maker himself, a poor man whom he had found in prison, and whom he had charitably found means to release.
I was born of poor and honest parents; and my father, who was a basket-maker by trade, taught me to plait all kinds of baskets. So long as I had only myself to care for, I lived tolerably well on the produce of my labour; but when I reached twenty years of age, and took a wife, who in a few years presented me with several children, my gains proved insufficient to maintain my family. A basket-maker earns but little; one day he gets a drachm, the next he may get two, or perhaps only half a drachm. In this state of things I and my children had often to endure the pangs of hunger.
One day it happened that I had just finished a large basket; it was well and strongly made, and I hoped to obtain at least three drachms for it. I took it to the bazaar and through all the streets, but no purchaser appeared. Night came on and I went home. When my wife and children saw me return without any food, they began to cry and to ask for bread, but as I had none to give them, I could only weep with them: the night was long and sorrowful. At daybreak my wife awoke me, saying, "Go, and sell the basket at any price you can get for it, were it only half a drachm." I set out, and perambulated the streets and squares, but night came on again without my finding a purchaser. My wife burst out into a great rage. "What!" she said, "do you still bring back this basket? Do you wish to see us die with hunger?"
I assured her that I had tried every means, but in vain, to sell the basket. She then took some articles of her own, and told me to go and sell them, and procure some bread for the children. I did as she said, and my famished family partook of a miserable repast, which my depressed state of mind prevented me from sharing with them. I slept little that night; and as soon as it was day I performed my devotions, and prayed to God to come to my assistance. I then went out again with my unsaleable basket, with which I made many weary and fruitless rounds through the whole city. At noon, overwhelmed with fatigue and famished with hunger, I sat down at the door of a mosque, where the voice of the muezzim was calling the faithful to prayer. I entered to implore of God's goodness that I might be able, by his assistance, to sell the basket. Prayer being ended, the faithful left the mosque, and I found myself alone with a venerable Persian, named Saadi, who seemed lost in contemplation. Rising to go away, he passed near me, and noticing how pale I was, he said, "Friend, you are too much addicted to wine, and your health suffers from it."
"My lord," I replied, "do not believe it; I have never tasted wine; my weakness and paleness arise from my not having had any food for the last two days."
I then related to him my life, my occupation, and my wretched state. Whilst listening to me the stranger shed tears; and when I had finished speaking, he said, "God be praised, my brother! for I can put an end to your troubles: take this," putting a purse of gold into my hands; "run to the market, and buy meat, bread, and fruits for the refreshment of yourself and family. What I have given you will last you for a year to come; and in exchange, I only ask you to meet me here, at the same day and hour, every year." So saying, he departed.
I could scarcely think but that I had been dreaming; the purse, however, proved that I was indeed awake. I opened it, and found in it a hundred pieces of gold! Overjoyed, I ran to the bazaar, and, in pursuance of the orders of the benevolent donor, I purchased enough, not only to satisfy the calls of hunger, but also food of such a nourishing nature, as had never entered my house before. The whole I put into my basket, and hastened to return home. Having reached the door, I listened, being curious to know what was going on. My children were uttering lamentations, and their mother was endeavouring to quiet them by repeating, for the hundredth time, her advice, to be quiet, and not to weep, for that their father would be sure to return with something to eat. I then entered the room, exclaiming, that God had heard them, and had sent them a plentiful supply for a long time to come. But when I showed them the purse and its contents, my wife shouted out, "What! have you then killed and robbed some one? Are we to become the object of the inquiries and suspicions of the police?"
I then related my fortunate meeting with the old man, and while embracing me with tears of joy, and a conscience at ease, my family partook, with me, of a plentiful repast, at the same time invoking blessings on our unknown benefactor.
For a whole year I lived happily in this manner. The day fixed upon by the stranger having arrived, I went to the mosque, after having attired myself in a becoming manner. The Persian came and seated himself beside me. When prayers were ended, and all the worshippers had departed, he turned towards me and said, with a smiling look,
"O my brother! how has the time passed with you since our last interview?"
"Thanks to your generosity, my lord," I replied, "my life has been spent in a tranquil and happy manner."
The stranger then questioned me as to my courage, address, and love of travelling; and to all his questions I replied in a satisfactory manner, and, in my turn, asked him if I could be of any service to him.
"Noureddin," he replied, "I intend setting out on a journey, and I wish you to accompany me as my servant. I shall employ you in a respectable and becoming manner; and if you show yourself obedient and devoted to my interests, you will have no reason to repent it. The journey will last two months; look, here are thirty dinars; buy provisions, that your family may want for nothing during your absence. In eight days you must bid adieu to your wife and children, and come to meet me here, bringing a supply of rice and dates, and arming yourself with a yatagan, to defend yourself in case of our being attacked."
I then went to my wife, and told her what the stranger required of me. "He is our benefactor," she replied; "it is your duty to obey him." I spent the eight days in laying in a store of food for my family and for the journey, and on the appointed day, after embracing my wife and children, I went to the mosque, where I found the Persian. The muezzim having proclaimed the hour of prayer, we joined in it; and afterwards I followed him to a desert place, where were two fine horses well harnessed and yoked, which we unloosed and mounted, and then set out on our journey.
After having traversed deserts and mountains during a whole month, we arrived at a fertile plain, watered by a fine river, whose peaceful and limpid waters winding about a thick forest, formed it into peninsula: a pavilion, with a golden cupola, seemed to rise out of this mass of verdure, and shone in the sun's rays as if it had been on fire.
The Persian now said to me, "Noureddin, enter this forest, and give me an account of what you see." I obeyed, but I had scarcely walked an hour, when I saw two huge lions with manes erect. Seized with alarm, I drew back, and running away reached my master out of breath, who only laughed at my fears, and assured me that I was needlessly afraid of the monsters. He wanted me to return, but I refused, and he was obliged to come back along with me. Having approached the lions, the Persian charmed them by some magical words, on which they became as submissive as lambs, remained motionless, and permitted us to pass. We journeyed on for many hours in the recesses of the forest, meeting, to my great dread, with what appeared to be troops of horsemen, sword in hand, and giants, armed with clubs, ready to strike us. All these fantastic beings disappeared at the sight of my master, and we reached at last the pavilion which crowned the forest.
My master then said to me, "Go, Noureddin, to this pavilion; remove the belt of iron chains which fastens the gates, while I go and pray to the great Solomon to be propitious to our enterprise." I did as he commanded me; but when I let the chains fall, a frightful noise was heard, which made the earth shake under my feet. More dead than alive, I returned to the Persian, who, having finished his prayer, entered the pavilion. At the end of an hour he came out, bringing a book with him written in the sacred language. He began to read it; and when he had finished, with his countenance radiant with delight he exclaimed, "O thrice fortunate Saadi! thou possessest at last this holy book—the sum of wisdom, the mirror of the good and the terror of the wicked! May the perusal of this garden of roses lead the children of Adam back to that original innocence from which they have so fatally departed! Hearken to these maxims and sentences, worthy to be the guides of mankind from the shepherd to the king:—
'He who learns the rules of wisdom without conforming his life to them, is like the man who tills his field but never sows any seed therein.
'Virtue does not consist in acquiring the riches of this world, but in attaching all hearts by benefits and good offices.
'If you are insensible to the sufferings of the unfortunate, you do not deserve the name of a man.
'It is better to be loaded with chains for having told the truth, than to be freed from them by means of a lie.
'A wicked person that accuses you of licentiousness should be made to blush, in his turn, by your virtues and your innocence.
'Man should remember that he is born of the earth, and that his pride will one day come to an end in it.
'Crystal is found every where; but nothing is more rare than the diamond, and hence the difference in their value.
'Instruction only bears fruit in so far as it is assisted by your own endeavours.
'The discipline of the master is of greater benefit to the child than the indulgence of the father.
'So long as the tree is young it is easy to fashion it as you please; but when it has been permitted to grow, nothing but fire can straighten it.
'Woe to the man of might, who devours the substance of the people! At last some dire calamity will, of a surety, overtake him.
'The most awful spectacle at the day of judgment will be, says the prophet, to see pious slaves in paradise, and hard and merciless masters in hell.
'Do you ask whether the ant beneath your feet has a right to complain? Yes; just as much right as you would have if crushed to atoms by an elephant.
'Encouragement towards the wicked is a wrong done to the good; and the severest attack on virtue is to be indulgent to crime.
'The perpetrator of an unjust action dies, but his memory is held in everlasting abhorrence. The just man dies, and his good actions bear fruit unto eternity.
'Be assured that thou wilt be rewarded if thine actions are good, whether thou wearest the dress of the dervise or the crown of the king.
'Would a king have nothing to fear from his enemies, let him live in peace with his subjects.
'O my brother! the world forsakes us all. Fix thy heart on the Creator of the universe, and all will be well with thee.
'What signifies it, whether we die in a stable or on a throne?
'At your morning and evening prayer be able to say, Almighty God, be pleased to remember Thy servant, who has never forgotten Thee!'
"My ambition is satisfied," resumed the Persian, "by the possession of this book; but a fortune of that description would be no fortune to you, Noureddin. You stand in need of a material treasure; and this sacred volume tells me where we ought to look for it. Quick! Mount your steed, and let us proceed so long as Solomon favours us." Leaping into our saddles, therefore, we set off at full gallop, and entering the desert, journeyed thus for two days and a night.
On the evening of the second day we arrived at a city situated on a high mountain, and surrounded with white walls which shone like silver. We passed the night under the trees of an adjoining wood; and next day, having offered up our prayers, looked about for some way of entering the city, the gates of which were shut, and within which there reigned a perfect stillness. My master went round the walls, and in his examination of them he discovered a stone slab, in which was fastened an iron ring. We endeavoured to move the slab, but could not. The Persian then ordered me to take the horses and to fasten them to the ring with our sashes; and by this means we succeeded in removing the stone, which discovered the entrance to a subterraneous passage. My master said to me, "Noureddin, follow me; by this passage we shall get into the city." On leaving the subterraneous passage we heard a noise like that which might be produced by the loud puffing of the bellows of a forge, and we supposed for a moment that the city was inhabited. This strange noise was nothing else than the hissing of two winged serpents, which advanced towards us at a frightful pace. With the sacred book in his hand the Persian advanced to meet them, and with one touch of this talisman laid them prostrate on the ground.
This obstacle being overcome, we traversed the whole city, admiring its squares, houses, mosques, and palaces. But what had become of the inhabitants? By what scourge had they been cut off, or what reason had induced them to quit so beautiful a city? How long ago was it inhabited? My mind was lost in conjectures about what seemed so far beyond my comprehension, and my master made no reply to the questions which I addressed to him. At length we stopped at the open railing of some gardens surrounding an enormous palace, which surpassed all that the imagination could conceive. Bushy thickets; orchards covered with flowers and fruits; enamelled meads, watered by murmuring streams; parterres planted with the rarest and most variegated flowers, every where met the eye. The Persian sat down under the shadow of a tree, opened the book, and commenced reading, and when he had finished ordered me to enter the palace. I reached it by a staircase that could only have been constructed by the hands of genii; it was formed of the most rare and costly marble, as were also the statues which were placed at the sides. After having walked through many spacious and magnificent apartments richly adorned, I entered a subterranean hall, still larger and more splendid. A hundred crystal lustres, brilliant with gold and precious stones, and lit up with thousands of wax-lights, shed a refulgence more dazzling than the day. Its walls were covered with paintings, in which the spirit of evil strove in vain for the mastery over the spirit of good, and a long series of the statues of justly-renowned dead princes were ranged all around. Vacant pedestals, waiting to receive monarchs still living, whose names were inscribed on them, were also to be seen. In the centre of this subterranean apartment, a throne of gold arose, incrusted with pearls and rubies. On this throne an old man was reposing, with a countenance pale as death, but whose open eyes shone with a supernatural brilliancy. I saluted him respectfully, but he made no gesture. I spoke to him, and he made no reply. Seized with astonishment and fear, I returned to my master and told him what I had seen.
"God be praised!" he said, "we are now near the end of our enterprise. Return, Noureddin, to the old man; go up to him fearlessly, and bring to me the chest on which his head rests."
I obeyed, and on my return to the subterranean hall I drew near to the throne, to which three silver steps led up. When I placed my foot on the first step the old man stood up; in spite of my surprise I ascended the second step, when, seizing a bow, he placed a keen-pointed arrow in it, and aimed it at me. Without any consideration of my benefactor's orders, I jumped backwards and took to flight anew. When the Arab saw me, he said, "Is this what you promised me? cowardly man, come with me, and you will find inestimable riches!" I then conducted him to the place where the old man was to be found. When my master was near the throne, he ascended the first step, and the old man arose; at the second step he took his bow and arrow; and at the third he shot it at my master, who received it on the sacred book, from which it rebounded as from a steel cuirass, and fell broken on the ground. The old man fell back motionless on the throne, and his eyes ceased to shine. My master then laid hold of the mysterious chest of which he had spoken to me, and took from it the magic key which opened subterranean recesses where heaps of pearls, diamonds, and rubies were deposited. The Persian allowed me to take as much as I pleased. I filled my trousers and the folds of my robe and turban with the finest pearls, the largest diamonds, and many other kinds of precious stones. As Saadi the Wise passed by all these treasures without looking at them, I said to him, "O my lord, why do you leave here all this wealth, and take away with you, as the reward of so many fatigues, an article of so little value? The book of wisdom is now useless; what man is there who does not think himself wise?"
"My son," replied the old man, "I am near the end of my career, and my life has been spent in the search after true wisdom. If I have done nothing to improve mankind, God, when I appear before Him, will reckon with me not only for the evil I shall have done, but also for the good I may have neglected to do. As for you, who have a wife and children, I approve of your wishing to provide for their future condition."
We left the enchanted city and its treasures, which I greatly regretted not being able to carry away. When we reached the open country, I looked back to gaze upon the palace and city, but they had disappeared, at which I expressed my astonishment to my master, who replied, "Noureddin, do not seek to fathom the mysteries of knowledge, but be contented to rejoice with me at the success of our journey." We then directed our faces towards Bagdad, and at the end of a short time arrived there, without meeting with any thing else worth relating. My family were rejoiced at my return and at the good fortune I had so unexpectedly met with. The old man abode with us for some time, which he employed in reading the Gulistan and in giving me useful counsels as to my future conduct.
"Noureddin," he said, "you are the possessor of great wealth; know how to make a good use of it; always remember the wretched condition in which I found you in the mosque; beware of bad company and pretended friends and flatterers; avoid covetousness, and be charitable toward the poor; remember the uncertainty of riches, and how Providence often punishes those who give way to ingratitude and pride." Besides his good advice, he would often relate to me instructive histories by way of example, and I shall not tire you too much if I repeat one of them to you.
A dervise, venerable from his age, fell ill at the house of a woman who was a widow, and who lived in a state of great poverty in the outskirts of Balsora. He was so affected by the care and zeal with which she had nursed him, that at the time of his departure he said to her, "I have noticed that your means are sufficient for yourself alone, and are not adequate for the additional support of your only son, the young Mujahid; but if you will entrust him to my care, I will do my utmost to repay through him the obligations which I am under to your care."
The good woman received the proposal with pleasure, and the dervise took his departure with the young man, stating, at the same time, that they were to be absent two years on a journey. While travelling in various countries the widow's son lived in opulence with his protector, who gave him excellent instructions, attended to him in a dangerous illness which he had, and, in short, treated him in every respect as if he had been his only son. Mujahid often said how grateful he was for such kindness, and the old man's constant reply was, "My son, gratitude is shown by actions, not words; at the proper time and place we shall see how you estimate my conduct towards you."
One day, in their journeyings, they reached a place out of the beaten road, and the dervise said to Abdallah, "We are now at the end of our travels; I am about to cause the earth to open and allow you to enter a place where you will find one of the greatest treasures in the bosom of the globe; have you courage sufficient to descend into this subterranean recess?" Mujahid declared that he might be depended upon for his obedience and zeal. The dervise then lighted a small fire, into which he threw some perfumes, and when he had pronounced some prayers the earth opened, and the dervise said to the young man, "You can now enter; remember that it is in your power to render me a great service, and that the present occasion is perhaps the only one when you can prove to me that you are not ungrateful. Do not allow yourself to be dazzled by all the wealth which you will find, but think only of getting possession of an iron chandelier with twelve branches which you will see near a door; lose no time in bringing it to me." The youth promised to attend to all that was required of him, and plunged into the subterraneous recess full of confidence in himself. Forgetting, however, what had been so expressly enjoined upon him, while he was busy filling his pockets with the gold and diamonds spread around in prodigious quantities, the entrance by which he had descended was closed. He had, however, the presence of mind to lay hold of the iron chandelier which the dervise had urged him to bring away; and although he was now, by the closing of the entrance, placed in circumstances which were enough to appal a stouter heart, he did not abandon himself to despair. While trying to discover some way of escape from a place which was likely otherwise to be his grave, he saw but too plainly that the opening had been closed upon him on account of his not having strictly followed the dervise's orders; and reflecting on the kindness and care with which he had been treated, he bitterly reproached himself for his ingratitude. At length, after a busy search and much anxiety, he was fortunate enough to discover a narrow passage that led out of this dark cavern. The opening was covered over with briers and thorns, through which he managed to struggle, and thus recovered the light of day. He looked around him every where for the dervise in order to deliver the chandelier to him, but in vain; he was not to be seen.
Unable to recognize any of the places where he had been, he walked at random, and was very much astonished to find himself, after a short time, at his mother's door, from which he had thought himself at a great distance. In reply to her inquiries respecting the dervise, he frankly told her all that had happened, and the danger he had encountered in order to gratify the fancy of the dervise; and then he showed her the riches with which he was loaded. His mother concluded, on seeing all this wealth, that the dervise only wanted to try his courage and obedience, and that he ought to take advantage of his good luck, adding, that such was no doubt the intention of the holy man.
While they gazed on these treasures with avidity, and framed a thousand dazzling projects for spending them, the whole vanished suddenly from their eyes. Mujahid then reproached himself again for his ingratitude and disobedience; and looking at the iron chandelier which alone remained of all his treasure, said, "What has happened is just. I have lost what I had no wish to render back; and the chandelier, which I desired to give to the dervise, remains with me—a proof that it belongs to him, and that the rest was improperly obtained." So saying, he placed the chandelier in the middle of his mother's small house.
When night came on, Mujahid thought he would put a light in the chandelier, by way of turning it to some use. No sooner had he done this, than a dervise immediately appeared, who, after turning round, vanished, and threw a small coin behind him. Mujahid, whose thoughts were occupied all next day with what he had seen the evening before, wished to see what would be the event if he placed a light in each of the twelve branches. He did so, and twelve dervises immediately appeared, who, after wheeling round, also became invisible, each of them at the same time throwing down a small coin. Every day Mujahid repeated the same ceremony with the same success; but he could only make it occur once in twenty-four hours. The moderate sum with which the dervises supplied him daily was sufficient for the subsistence of himself and his mother, and for a long time this was all that he desired. By and by, however, his imagination began to feast itself with the idea of the riches of the cavern, the sight of those which he had once thought to be safe in his possession, and the schemes which he had formed as to the use to be made of his wealth; all these things had left so deep an impression on his mind, that he found it impossible to rest. He resolved, therefore, if possible, to find out the dervise, and to take him the chandelier, in the hope of obtaining the treasure by bringing to the holy man an article for which he had shown so strong a desire.
Fortunately Mujahid recollected the dervise's name, and the name of the city, Magnebi, where he dwelt. He set out on his journey as soon as possible, bidding farewell to his mother, and taking the chandelier with him, which supplied him every evening, after being lit, with the means of supporting himself, without having occasion to resort for assistance to the compassion of the faithful. When he reached Magnebi, his first inquiry was after the house where Abounadar lodged. He was so well known, that the first person he met could tell him his residence. On arriving at the house, or rather palace, he found fifty porters keeping watch at the door, each of them bearing a wand with a golden apple for its handle. The courts of the palace were crowded with slaves and domestics; indeed, no prince's residence ever displayed greater splendour. Mujahid, struck with astonishment and admiration, was reluctant to proceed further. "Either," said he to himself, "I have described the person whom I wanted imperfectly, or those to whom I spoke must have wished to make a mock of me, observing that I was a stranger. This is not the residence of a dervise, but of a king."
Mujahid was in this state of embarrassment when a man came up to him and said, "You are welcome, Mujahid; my master, Abounadar, has been long expecting you;" and so saying, he conducted him into a magnificent garden, where the dervise was seated. Mujahid, struck with the riches which he saw every where around him, would have thrown himself at his feet, but Abounadar would not permit him, and interrupted him when he was about to make a merit of bringing back the chandelier which he presented to him, by saying, "You are an ungrateful wretch. Do you think to impose upon me? I know all your thoughts; and if you had known the worth of this chandelier, you would never have brought it to me. I shall now make you acquainted with its true use." In each of the branches of the chandelier he now placed a light; and when the dervises had turned round, Abounadar gave each of them a blow with a stick, and immediately they were converted into twelve heaps of sequins, diamonds, and other precious stones. "Look," he said, "at the use to be made of this wonderful chandelier. My only reason, however, for wishing to place it in my cabinet, was on account of its being a talisman composed by a sage whom I revered; and I shall be always happy to show it to persons who visit me. To prove to you," he continued, "that curiosity is the only reason which induced me to procure the lamp, take the keys of my cellars, open them, and judge for yourself of the extent of my opulence, and say if I should not be the most insatiably avaricious of all men, not to be contented with what I have." Mujahid took the keys, and made a survey of twelve magazines so filled with every description of precious stones, that he was unable to tell which of them most deserved his admiration. Regret at having restored the chandelier, and at not having discovered its uses, now wrung his heart intensely. Abounadar seemed not to perceive this, but on the contrary loaded Mujahid with caresses, kept him for some days in his palace, and desired his servants to treat him as they would himself. On the evening before the day fixed for his departure, Abounadar said to him, "Mujahid, my son, I think, from what has occurred, that you are now cured of the frightful sin of ingratitude; however, I owe you something for having undertaken so long a journey for the purpose of bringing to me an article which I wished to possess. You may now depart; I will detain you no longer. To-morrow you will find at the gate of my palace one of my horses to carry you home. I will make you a present of it, together with a slave who will bring you two camels loaded with gold and precious stones, which you can select for yourself from among my treasures."