CHAP. I.

WHO is he among the children of the earth, that repines at the power of the wicked? and who is he, that would change the lot of the righteous? He, who has appoint⯑ed to each his portion, is God; the Omniſcient and the Almighty, who fills eternity, and whoſe exiſtence is [2] from Himſelf! but he who murmurs, is man; who yeſterday was not, and who to-morrow ſhall be forgotten: let him liſten in ſilence to the voice of knowlege, and hide the bluſhes of con⯑fuſion in the duſt.

Solyman, the mighty and the wiſe, who, in the one hundred and ſecond year of the Hegyra, ſat upon the throne of Perſia, had two ſons, ALMORAN and HAMET, and they were twins. ALMORAN was the firſt born, but Solyman divided his affection equally between them: they were both lodged in the ſame part of the ſeraglio, both were attended by the ſame ſervants, and both received inſtructions from the ſame teacher.

[3] One of the firſt things that ALMO⯑RAN learnt, was the prerogative of his birth; and he was taught very early to ſet a high value upon it, by the terms in which thoſe about him ex⯑preſſed their ſenſe of the power, the ſplendor, and the delights of royalty. As his mind gradually opened, he na⯑turally conſidered theſe as the objects of univerſal deſire, and the means of ſupreme felicity: he was often re⯑minded, that the time was coming, when the ſole poſſeſſion of ſovereign power would enable him to fulfil all his wiſhes, to determine the fate of dependent nations with a nod, and diſ⯑penſe life and death, and happineſs and miſery, at his will: he was flattered by thoſe who hoped to draw wealth and dignity from his favour; and intereſt [4] prompted all who approached him, to adminiſter to his pleaſures with a zeal and aſſiduity, which had the appear⯑ance of reverence to his merit, and af⯑fection to his perſon.

HAMET, on the contrary, ſoon be⯑came ſenſible of a ſubordinate ſtation: he was not, indeed, neglected; but he was not much careſſed. When the gratification of HAMET came in com⯑petition with that of ALMORAN, he was always obliged to give it up, ex⯑cept when Solyman interpoſed: his mind was, therefore, naturally led to ſeek for happineſs in objects very dif⯑ferent from thoſe which had fixed the attention of ALMORAN. As he knew not to how narrow a ſphere caprice or jealouſy might confine him, he [5] conſidered what pleaſures were leaſt dependent upon external advantages; and as the firſt popular commotion which ſhould happen after his brother's acceſſion to the throne, might proba⯑bly coſt him his life, he was very in⯑quiſitive about the ſtate into which his ſpirit would be diſmiſſed by the Angel of Death, and very diligent to do whatever might ſecure him a ſhare of the permanent and unchangeable fe⯑licity of Paradiſe.

This difference in the ſituation of ALMORAN and HAMET, produced great diſſimilarity in their diſpoſitions, habits, and characters; to which, per⯑haps, nature might alſo in ſome de⯑gree contribute. ALMORAN was haughty, vain, and voluptuous; HA⯑MET [6] was gentle, courteous, and tempe⯑rate: ALMORAN was volatile, impetu⯑ous, and iraſcible; HAMET was thought⯑ful, patient, and forbearing. Upon the heart of HAMET alſo were writ⯑ten the inſtructions of the Prophet; to his mind futurity was preſent by habi⯑tual anticipation; his pleaſure, his pain, his hopes, and his fears, were perpetually referred to the Inviſible and Almighty Father of Life, by ſen⯑timents of gratitude or reſignation, complacency or confidence; ſo that his devotion was not periodical but conſtant.

But the views of ALMORAN were terminated by nearer objects: his mind was perpetually buſied in the anticipa⯑tion of pleaſures and honours, which [7] he ſuppoſed to be neither uncertain nor remote; theſe excited his hopes, with a power ſufficient to fix his attention; he did not look beyond them for other objects, nor enquire how enjoy⯑ments more diſtant were to be acquir⯑ed; and as he ſuppoſed theſe to be already ſecured to him by his birth, there was nothing he was ſolicitous to obtain as the reward of merit, nor any thing that he conſidered himſelf to poſſeſs as the bounty of Heaven. If the ſublime and diſintereſted recti⯑tude that produces and rewards it⯑ſelf, dwells indeed with man, it dwelt not with ALMORAN: with reſpect to God, therefore, he was not impreſſed with a ſenſe either of duty or depen⯑dence; he felt neither reverence nor love, gratitude nor reſignation: in ab⯑ſtaining from evil, he was not intentio⯑nally [8] good; he practiſed the externals of morality without virtue, and performed the rituals of devotion without piety.

Such were ALMORAN and HAMET, when Solyman their father, full of days and full of honour, ſlept in peace the ſleep of death. With this event they were immediately acquainted. The emotions of ALMORAN were ſuch as it was impoſſible to conceal: the joy that he felt in ſecret was ſo great, that the mere dread of diſappointment for a moment ſuſpended his belief of what he heard: when his fears and his doubts gave way, his cheeks were ſuf⯑fuſed with ſudden bluſhes, and his eyes ſparkled with exultation and impati⯑ence: he looked eagerly about him, as if in haſte to act; yet his looks were embarraſſed, and his geſtures irreſolute, [9] becauſe he knew not what to do: he uttered ſome incoherent ſentences, which diſcovered at once the joy that he felt, and his ſenſe of its impropriety; and his whole deportment expreſſed the utmoſt tumult and perturbation of mind.

Upon HAMET, the death of his fa⯑ther produced a very different effect: as ſoon as he heard it, his lips trembled and his countenance grew pale; he ſtood motionleſs a moment, like a pil⯑grim transfixed by lightning in the de⯑ſert; he then ſmote his breaſt, and look⯑ing upward, his eyes by degrees over⯑flowed with tears, and they fell, like dew diſtilling from the mountain, in a calm and ſilent ſhower. As his grief was thus mingled with devotion, his [10] mind in a ſhort time recovered its tranquillity, though not its chearfulneſs, and he deſired to be conducted to his brother.

He found him ſurrounded by the lords of his court, his eye ſtill reſtleſs and ardent, and his deportment elate and aſſuming. HAMET preſſed haſtily through the circle, and proſtrated him⯑ſelf before him: ALMORAN received the homage with a tumultuous pleaſure; but at length raiſed him from the ground, and aſſured him of his protec⯑tion, though without any expreſſions either of kindneſs or of ſorrow: ‘HA⯑MET,’ ſays he, ‘if I have no cauſe to complain of you as a ſubject, you ſhall have no cauſe to complain of me as a king.’ HAMET, whoſe [11] heart was again pierced by the cold and diſtant behaviour of his brother, ſuppreſſed the ſigh that ſtruggled in his boſom, and ſecretly wiped away the tear that ſtarted to his eye: he retired, with his looks fixed upon the ground, to a remote corner of the apartment; and though his heart yearned to em⯑brace his brother, his modeſt diffidence reſtrained him from intruding upon the king.

In this ſituation were ALMORAN and HAMET, when OMAR entered the a⯑partment. OMAR, upon whoſe head the hand of time became heavy, had from his youth acquainted himſelf with wiſdom: to him nature had revealed herſelf in the ſilence of the night, when his lamp was burning alone, and his [12] eyes only were open: to him was known the power of the Seal of Solo⯑mon; and to him the knowlege of things inviſible had been revealed. Nor was the virtue of OMAR inferior to his knowlege; his heart was a fountain of good, which though it flowed through innumerable ſtreams was never dry: yet was the virtue of OMAR cloathed with humility; and he was ſtill preſſing nearer to perfection, by a devotion which though elevated was rational, and though regular was warm. From the council of OMAR, Solyman had de⯑rived glory and ſtrength; and to him he had committed the education of his children.

When he entered the apartment, the croud, touched at once with reverence [13] and love, drew back; every eye was caſt downward, and every tongue was ſilent. The full of days approached the king, and kneeling before him he put into his hand a ſealed paper: the king received it with impatience, ſee⯑ing it ſuperſcribed with the hand of his father; and OMAR looking round, and perceiving HAMET, beckoned him to come forward. HAMET, whoſe obedience to OMAR had been ſo long habitual that it was now almoſt ſpon⯑taneous, inſtantly drew near, though with a ſlow and irreſolute pace; and ALMORAN, having broken the ſeal of the paper, began to read it to himſelf, with a look that expreſſed the utmoſt anxiety and impatience. OMAR kept his eye fixed upon him, and ſoon perceived that his countenance was disfigured by [14] confuſion and trouble, and that he ſeemed preparing to put up the paper in his boſom: he then produced an⯑other paper from under his robe, and gave it to HAMET: 'This,' ſays he, ‘is a copy of the will of Solyman, your father; the original is in the hand of ALMORAN: read it, and you will find that he has bequeathed his kingdom between you.’

The eyes of all preſent were now turned upon HAMET, who ſtood ſilent and motionleſs with amazement, but was ſoon rouſed to attention by the ho⯑mage that was paid him. In the mean time, ALMORAN'S confuſion increaſed every moment: his diſappointment was aggravated by the ſudden attention of thoſe who were preſent to his bro⯑ther; [15] and his jealouſy made him think himſelf neglected, while thoſe acts of duty were performed to HAMET, which were now known to be his right, and which he had himſelf received before him.

HAMET, however, regarded but lit⯑tle what ſo much excited the envy of ALMORAN; his mind was employed upon ſuperior objects, and agitated by nobler paſſions: the coldneſs of his brother's behaviour, though it had grieved had not quenched his affection; and as he was now no longer reſtrained by the deference due from a ſubject to his king, he ran to him, and catching him to his breaſt attempted to ſpeak; but his heart was too full, and he could expreſs his affection and joy only by [16] his tears. ALMORAN rather ſuffered than received the embrace; and after a few ceremonies, to which neither of them could much attend, they retired to ſeparate apartments.

CHAP. II.

WHEN ALMORAN was alone, he immediately locked the door; and throwing himſelf upon a ſofa in an agony of vexation and diſ⯑apointment, of which he was unwil⯑ling there ſhould be any witneſs, he re⯑volved in his mind all the pleaſures and honours of ſupreme dominion which had now ſuddenly been ſnatched from him, with a degree of anguiſh and regret, not proportioned to their real, but their imaginary value. Of future good, that which we obtain is found to be leſs than our expecta⯑tions; but that of which we are diſap⯑pointed, we ſuppoſe would have been more: thus do the children of hope [18] extract evil, both from what they gain, and from what they loſe. But ALMORAN, after the firſt tumult of his mind had ſubſided, began to con⯑ſider as well what was left him, as what had been taken away. He was ſtill without a ſuperior, though he had an equal; he was ſtill a king, though he did not govern alone: and with re⯑ſpect to every individual in his domini⯑ons, except one, his will would now be a law; though with reſpect to the public, the concurrence of his brother would be neceſſary to give it force. 'Let me then,' ſays he, ‘make the moſt of the power that is now put into my hand, and wait till ſome fa⯑vourable opportunity ſhall offer to increaſe it. Let me diſſemble my jealouſy and diſappointment, that I [19] may not alarm ſuſpicion, or put the virtues of HAMET upon their guard againſt me; and let me contrive to give our joint adminiſtration ſuch a form, as may beſt favour my de⯑ſign.’

Such were the reflections, with which ALMORAN ſoothed the anguiſh of his mind; while HAMET was bu⯑ſied in ſpeculations of a very different kind. If he was pleaſed at reflecting, that he was raiſed from a ſubject to a prince; he was pleaſed ſtill more, when he conſidered his elevation as a teſt of his father's affection to his perſon, and approbation of his conduct: he was alſo delighted with the thought, that his brother was aſſociated with him in the arduous taſk which he was [20] now called to perform. ‘If I had been appointed to govern alone,’ ſaid he, ‘I ſhould have had no equal; and he who has no equal, though he may have faithful ſervants, can have no friend: there cannot be that union of intereſts, that equal participation of good, that unreſtrained inter⯑courſe of mind, and that mutual dependence, which conſtitutes the pure and exalted happineſs of friend⯑ſhip. With ALMORAN, I ſhall ſhare the ſupreme delight of wreſt⯑ing the innocent and the helpleſs from the iron hand of oppreſſion; of animating merit by reward, and re⯑ſtraining the unworthy by fear: I ſhall ſhare, with ALMORAN, the pleaſures of governing a numerous, a powerful, and a happy people; [21] pleaſures which, however great, are, like all others, increaſed by partici⯑pation.’

While HAMET was thus enjoying the happineſs, which his virtue derived from the ſame ſource, from which the vices of ALMORAN had filled his breaſt with anguiſh and diſcontent; OMAR was contriving in what manner their joint government could beſt be carried into execution.

He knew that Solyman, having conſidered the diſpoſitions of his ſons, was of opinion, that if they had been blended in one perſon, they would have produced a character more fit to go⯑vern in his ſtead, than either of them alone: ALMORAN, he thought, was [22] too volatile and warm; but he ſuſpect⯑ed, that HAMET would ſink into inacti⯑vity for want of ſpirit: he feared alike ALMORAN's love of enterprize, and HAMET's fondneſs for retirement: he obſerved, in HAMET, a placid eaſineſs of temper, which might ſuffer the reins of government to lie too looſe; and, in ALMORAN, a quickneſs of re⯑ſentment, and jealouſy of command, which might hold them too tight: he hoped, therefore, that by leaving them a joint dominion, he ſhould blend their diſpoſitions, at leaſt in their effects, in every act of government that ſhould take place; or that, however they ſhould agree to adminiſter their go⯑vernment, the public would derive be⯑nefit from the virtues of both, with⯑out danger of ſuffering from their im⯑perfections, [23] as their imperfections would only operate againſt each other, while, in whatever was right, their minds would naturally concur, as the coincidence of rectitude with recti⯑tude is neceſſary and eternal. But he did not conſider, that different diſpo⯑ſitions operating ſeparately upon two different wills, would appear in effects very unlike thoſe, which they would concur to produce in one: that two wills, under the direction of diſpoſi⯑tions ſo different, would ſeldom be brought to coincide; and that more miſchiefs would probably ariſe from the conteſt, than from the imperfec⯑tions of either alone.

But Solyman had ſo long applauded himſelf for his project before he re⯑vealed [24] it to OMAR, that OMAR found him too much diſpleaſed with any ob⯑jection, to conſider its weight: and knowing that peculiar notions are more rarely given up, than opinions received from others, and made our own only by adoption, he at length acquieſced, leſt he ſhould by farther oppoſition loſe his influence, which on other occaſions he might ſtill employ to the advantage of the public; and took a ſolemn oath, that he would, as far as was in his power, ſee the will carried into execu⯑tion.

To this, indeed, he conſented with⯑out much reluctance, as he had little leſs reaſon to fear the ſole government of ALMORAN, than a joint adminiſtra⯑tion; and if a ſtruggle for ſuperiority [25] ſhould happen, he hoped the virtues of HAMET would obtain the ſuffrages of the people in his favour, and eſtabliſh him upon the throne alone. But as change is itſelf an evil, and as changes in government are ſeldom produced without great confuſion and calamity, he applied himſelf to conſider in what manner the government of ALMORAN and HAMET could be adminiſtered, ſo as moſt effectually to blend their cha⯑racters in their adminiſtration, and prevent the conduct of one from excit⯑ing jealouſy in the other.

After much thought, he determined that a ſyſtem of laws ſhould be pre⯑pared, which the ſons of Solyman ſhould examine and alter till they per⯑fectly approved, and to which they [26] ſhould then give the ſanction of their joint authority: that when any addition or alteration ſhould be thought neceſ⯑ſary, it ſhould be made in the ſame manner; and that when any inſuper⯑able difference of ſentiment happened, either in this or in any act of preroga⯑tive independent of the laws for regu⯑lating the manners of the people, the kings ſhould refer it to ſome perſon of approved integrity and wiſdom, and abide by his determination. OMAR eaſily foreſaw, that when the opinion of ALMORAN and HAMET ſhould differ, the opinion of ALMORAN would be eſtabliſhed; for there were many cauſes that would render ALMORAN inflexible, and HAMET yielding: AL⯑MORAN was naturally confident and aſſuming, HAMET diffident and mo⯑deſt; [27] ALMORAN was impatient of con⯑tradiction, HAMET was attentive to argument, and ſolicitous only for the diſcovery of truth. ALMORAN alſo conceived, that by the will of his father, he had ſuffered wrong; HA⯑MET, that he had received a favour: ALMORAN, therefore, was diſpoſed to reſent the firſt appearance of oppoſi⯑tion; and HAMET, on the contrary, to acquieſce, as in his ſhare of go⯑vernment, whatever it might be, he had more than was his right by birth, and his brother had leſs. Thus, therefore, the will of ALMORAN would probably predominate in the ſtate: but as the ſame cauſe which conferred this ſuperiority, would often prevent contention, OMAR conſidered [28] it, upon the whole, rather as good than evil.

When he had prepared his plan, therefore, he ſent a copy of it, by different meſſengers at the ſame time, both to ALMORAN and HAMET, in⯑cloſed in a letter, in which he expreſt his ſenſe of obligation to their father, and his zeal and affection for them: he mentioned the promiſe he had made, to devote himſelf to their ſervice; and the oath he had taken, to pro⯑poſe whatever he thought might fa⯑cilitate the accompliſhment of their father's deſign, with honour to them and happineſs to their people: theſe motives, which he could not reſiſt without impiety, he hoped [29] would abſolve him from preſump⯑tion; and truſting in the rectitude of his intentions, he left the iſſue to God.

CHAP. III.

THE receipt of this letter threw ALMORAN into another agony of indignation: he felt again the loſs of his prerogative; the offer of ad⯑vice he diſdained as an inſult, to which he had been injuriouſly ſubjected by the will of his father; and he was diſ⯑poſed to reject whatever was ſuggeſted by OMAR, even before his propoſal was known. With this temper of mind he began to read, and at every paragraph took new offence; he deter⯑mined, however, not to admit OMAR to the honour of a conference upon the ſubject, but to ſettle a plan of government with his brother, without the leaſt regard to his advice.

[31] A ſupercilious attention to minute formalities, is a certain indication of a little mind, conſcious to the want of innate dignity, and ſolicitous to de⯑rive from others what it cannot ſupply to itſelf: as the ſcrupulous exaction of every trifling tribute diſcovers the weakneſs of the tyrant, who fears his claim ſhould be diſputed; while the prince, who is conſcious of ſuperior and indiſputable power, and knows that the ſtates he has ſubjugated do not dare to revolt, ſcarce enquires whether ſuch teſtimonies of allegiance are given or not.

Thus, the jealouſy of ALMORAN already enſlaved him to the punctilios of ſtate; and the moſt trifling circum⯑ſtances involved him in perplexity, [32] or fired him with reſentment: the friendſhip and fidelity of OMAR ſtung him with rage, as inſolent and intru⯑ſive; and though it determined him to an immediate interview with his bro⯑ther, yet he was embarraſſed how to procure it. At firſt he roſe, and was about to go to him; but he ſtopped ſhort with diſdain, upon reflecting, that it was an act of condeſcenſion which might be deemed an acknow⯑ledgement of ſuperiority: he then thought of ſending for HAMET to come to him; but this he feared might pro⯑voke him, as implying a denial of his equality: at length he determined to propoſe a meeting in the chamber of council, and was juſt diſpatching an officer with the meſſage, when HA⯑MET entered the apartment.

[33] The countenance of HAMET was fluſhed with joy, and his heart was warmed with the pleaſing ſenſations of affection and confidence, by the ſame letter, from which ALMORAN had ex⯑tracted the bitterneſs of jealouſy and reſentment; and as he had no idea that an act of courteſy to his brother could derogate from his own dignity or importance, he indulged the honeſt impatience of his heart to communi⯑cate the pleaſure with which it over⯑flowed: he was, indeed, ſomewhat diſappointed, to find no traces of ſatis⯑faction in the countenance of ALMO⯑RAN, when he ſaw the ſame paper in his hand, which had impreſſed ſo much upon his own.

[34] He waited ſome time after the firſt ſalutations, without mentioning the ſcheme of government he was come to concert; becauſe having obſerved that ALMORAN was embarraſſed and diſ⯑pleaſed, he expected that he would communicate the cauſe, and pleaſed himſelf with the hope that he might remove it: finding, however, that this expectation was diſappointed, he ad⯑dreſſed him to this effect:

‘How happy are we, my dear bro⯑ther, in the wiſdom and fidelity of OMAR! how excellent is the ſyſtem of government that he has propoſed! how eaſy and honourable will it be to us that govern, and how advantage⯑ous to the people that obey!’

[35] 'The advantages,' ſaid ALMO⯑RAN, ‘which you ſeem to have diſco⯑vered, are not evident to me: tell me, then, what you imagine they are, and I will afterwards give you my opinion.’

‘By eſtabliſhing a ſyſtem of laws as the rule of government,’ ſaid HA⯑MET, ‘many evils will be avoided, and many benefits procured. If the law is the will only of the ſovereign, it can never certainly be known to the peo⯑ple: many, therefore, may violate that rule of right, which the hand of the Almighty has written upon the living tablets of the heart, in the pre⯑ſumptuous hope, that it will not ſub⯑ject them to puniſhment; and thoſe, by whom that rule is fulfilled, will [36] not enjoy that conſciouſneſs of ſecu⯑rity, which they would derive from the protection of a preſcribed law, which they have never broken. Nei⯑ther will thoſe who are inclined to do evil, be equally reſtrined by the fear of puniſhment; if neither the offence is aſcertained, nor the puniſh⯑ment preſcribed. One motive to pro⯑bity, therefore, will be wanting; which ought to be ſupplied, as well for the ſake of thoſe who may be tempted to offend, as of thoſe who may ſuffer by the offence. Beſides, he who governs not by a written and a public law, muſt either adminiſter that government in perſon, or by others: if in perſon, he will ſink under a labour which no man is able to ſuſtain; and if by others, the in⯑feriority [37] of their rank muſt ſubject them to temptations which it cannot be hoped they will always reſiſt, and to prejudices which it will perhaps be impoſſible for them to ſurmount. But to adminiſter government by a law which aſcertains the offence, and directs the puniſhment, integrity alone will be ſufficient; and as the perverſion of juſtice will in this caſe be notorious, and depend not upon opinion but fact, it will ſeldom be practiſed, becauſe it will be eaſily pu⯑niſhed.’

ALMORAN, who had heard the opi⯑nions of HAMET with impatience and ſcorn, now ſtarted from his ſeat with a proud and contemptuous aſpect: he firſt glanced his eyes upon his brother; [38] and then looking diſdainfully down⯑ward, he threw back his robe, and ſtretching out his hand from him, ‘Shall the ſon of Solyman,’ ſaid he, ‘upon whoſe will the fate of nations was ſuſ⯑pended, whoſe ſmiles and frowns were alone the criterions of right and wrong, before whom the voice of wiſdom itſelf was ſilent, and the pride even of virtue humbled in the duſt; ſhall the ſon of Solyman be harneſſed, like a mule, in the tram⯑mels of law? ſhall he become a mere inſtrument to execute what o⯑thers have deviſed? ſhall he only de⯑clare the determinations of a ſtatute, and ſhall his ear be affronted by claims of right? It is the glory of a prince, to puniſh for what and whom he will; to be the ſovereign, not only of pro⯑perty, [39] but of life; and to govern alike without preſcription or ap⯑peal.’

HAMET, who was ſtruck with aſto⯑niſhment at this declaration, and the vehemence with which it was uttered, after a ſhort recollection made this re⯑ply: ‘It is the glory of a prince, to govern others, as he is governed by Him, who is alone moſt merciful and almighty! It is his glory to prevent crimes, rather than to diſplay his pow⯑er in puniſhment; to diffuſe happi⯑neſs, rather than inforce ſubjection; and rather to animate with love, than depreſs by fear. Has not He that ſhall judge us, given us a rule of life by which we ſhall be judged? is not our reward and puniſhment al⯑ready [40] ſet before us? are not His pro⯑miſes and threatenings, motives to obedience? and have we not confi⯑dence and joy, when we have obeyed? To God, His own divine perfections are a law; and theſe He has tranſcribed as a law to us. Let us, then, govern, as we are governed; let us ſeek our happineſs in the happineſs that we be⯑ſtow, and our honour in emulating the benevolence of Heaven.’

As ALMORAN feared, that to pro⯑ceed farther in this argument would too far diſcloſe his ſentiments, and put HAMET too much upon his guard; he determined for the preſent to diſſemble: and as he perceived, that HAMET's opi⯑nion, and an adminiſtration founded up⯑on it, would render him extreamly po⯑pular, [41] and at length poſſibly eſtabliſh him alone; he was now ſolicitous only to withdraw him from public notice, and perſuade him to leave the govern⯑ment, whatever form it ſhould receive, to be adminiſtered by others: return⯑ing, therefore, to his ſeat, and aſſum⯑ing an appearance of complacence and tranquillity, with which he could not form his language perfectly to agree; 'Let us then,' ſaid he, ‘if a law muſt be ſet up in our ſtead, leave the law to be executed by our ſlaves: and as nothing will be left for us to do, that is worthy of us, let us de⯑vote ourſelves to the pleaſures of eaſe; and if there are any enjoy⯑ments peculiar to royalty, let us ſe⯑cure them as our only diſtinction from the multitude.’

[42] 'Not ſo,' ſays HAMET; ‘for there is yet much for a prince to do, after the beſt ſyſtem of laws has been eſta⯑bliſhed: the government of a nation as a whole, the regulation and extent of its trade, the eſtabliſhment of ma⯑nufactories, the encouragement of genius, the application of the reve⯑nues, and whatever can improve the arts of peace, and ſecure ſuperiority in war, is the proper object of a king's attention.’

'But in theſe,' ſaid ALMORAN, ‘it will be difficult for two minds to concur; let us, then, agree to leave theſe alſo to the care of ſome other, whom we can continue as long as we approve, and diſplace when we [43] approve no longer: we ſhall, by this expedient, be able to avert the odium of any unpopular mea⯑ſure; and by the ſacrifice of a ſlave, we can always ſatisfy the people, and ſilence public diſcon⯑tent.’

'To truſt implicitly to another,' ſays HAMET, ‘is to give up a prero⯑gative, which is at once our higheſt duty and intereſt to keep; it is to be⯑tray our truſt, and to ſacrifice our ho⯑nour to another. The prince, who leaves the government of his people implicitly to a ſubject, leaves it to one, who has many more temptati⯑ons to betray their intereſt than him⯑ſelf: a vicegerent is in a ſubordinate [44] ſtation; he has, therefore, much to fear, and much to hope: he may alſo acquire the power of obtaining what he hopes, and averting what he fears, at the public expence; he may ſtand in need of dependents, and may be able no otherwiſe to procure them, than by conniving at the fraud or the violence which they commit: he may receive, in bribes, an equivalent for his ſhare, as an individual, in the public proſperity; for his intereſt is not eſſentially connected with that of the ſtate; he has a ſeparate intereſt; but the intereſt of the ſtate, and of the king, are one: he may even be corrupted to betray the councils, and give up the intereſts of the nation, to a foreign power; but this is im⯑poſſible to the king; for nothing [45] equivalent to what he would give up, could be offered him. But as a king has not equal temptations to do wrong, neither is he equally expoſed to oppoſition, when he does right: the meaſures of a ſubſtitute are fre⯑quently oppoſed, merely from inte⯑reſt; becauſe the leader of a faction againſt him, hopes, that if he can re⯑move him by popular clamour, he ſhall ſucceed to his power; but it can be no man's intereſt to oppoſe the meaſures of a king, if his mea⯑ſures are good, becauſe no man can hope to ſupplant him. Are not theſe the precepts of the Prophet, whoſe wiſ⯑dom was from above?’ ‘—Let not the eye of expectation be raiſed to another, for that which thyſelf only ſhould beſtow: ſuffer not thy own [46] ſhadow to obſcure thee; nor be con⯑tent to derive that glory, which it is thy prerogative to impart.’

'But is the prince,' ſaid ALMORAN, ‘always the wiſeſt man in his domini⯑ons? Can we not find, in another, abilities and experience, which we do not poſſeſs? and is it not the duty of him who preſides in the ſhip, to, place the helm in that hand which can beſt ſteer it?’

'A prince,' ſaid HAMET, ‘who ſin⯑cerely intends the good of his people, can ſcarce fail to effect it; all the wiſ⯑dom of the nation will be at once turned to that object: whatever is his prin⯑cipal aim, will be that of all who are admitted to his council; for to con⯑cur [47] with his principal aim, muſt be the ſureſt recommendation to his fa⯑vour. Let us, then, hear others; but let us act ourſelves.’

As ALMORAN now perceived, that the longer this converſation continued, the more he ſhould be embarraſſed; he put an end to it, by appearing to acquieſce in what HAMET had propoſed. HAMET withdrew, charm⯑ed with the candour and flexibility which he imagined he had diſco⯑vered in his brother; and not with⯑out ſome exultation in his own rhe⯑toric, which he ſuppoſed had gained no inconſiderable victory. ALMORAN, in the mean time, applauded himſelf for having thus far practiſed the arts of [48] diſſimulation with ſucceſs; fortified himſelf in the reſolutions he had be⯑fore taken; and conceived new male⯑volence and jealouſy againſt HAMET.

CHAP. IV.

WHILE HAMET was exulting in his conqueſt, and his heart was overflowing at once with ſelf-com⯑placency, and affection to his brother; he was told, that OMAR was waiting without, and deſired admittance. HA⯑MET ordered that he ſhould be imme⯑diately introduced; and when OMAR entered, and would have proſtrated himſelf before him, he catched him in his arms in a tranſport of affection and eſteem; and having ordered that none ſhould interrupt them, compelled him to ſit down on a ſofa.

He then related, with all the joy of a youthful and an ardent mind, the [50] converſation he had had with ALMO⯑RAN, intermixed with expreſſions of the higheſt praiſe and the moſt cordial eſteem. OMAR was not without ſuſpi⯑cion, that the ſentiments which ALMO⯑RAN had firſt expreſſed with ſuch ve⯑hemence of paſſion, were ſtill predo⯑minant in his mind: but of theſe ſuſ⯑picious he did not give the leaſt hint to HAMET; not only becauſe to commu⯑nicate ſuſpicions is to accuſe without proof, but becauſe he did not think himſelf at liberty to make an ill report of another, though he knew it to be true. He approved the ſentiments of HAMET, as they had indeed been in⯑fuſed by his own inſtructions; and ſome precepts and cautions were now added, which the acceſſion of HAMET [51] to a ſhare of the imperial power made particularly neceſſary.

'Remember,' ſaid OMAR, ‘that the moſt effectual way of promoting virtue, is to prevent occaſions of vice. There are, perhaps, particular ſitua⯑tions, in which human virtue has al⯑ways failed: at leaſt, temptation of⯑ten repeated, and long continued, has ſeldom been finally reſiſted. In a government ſo conſtituted as to leave the people expoſed to perpetual ſe⯑duction, by opportunities of diſſolute pleaſure or iniquitous gain, the mul⯑tiplication of penal laws will only tend to depopulate the kingdom, and diſgrace the ſtate; to devote to the ſcymitar and the bow-ſtring, thoſe who might have been uſeful to ſociety, [52] and to leave the reſt diſſolute turbu⯑lent and factious. If the ſtreets not only abound with women, who in⯑flame the paſſenger by their appear⯑ance, their geſture, and their ſolici⯑tations; but with houſes, in which every deſire which they kindle may be gratified with ſecrecy and conveni⯑ence;’ it is in vain that ‘the feet of the proſtitute go down to death, and that her ſteps take hold on hell:’ ‘what then can be hoped from any puniſhment, which the laws of man can ſuperadd to diſeaſe and want, to rottenneſs and perdition? If you permit opium to be publickly ſold at a low rate; it will be folly to hope, that the dread of puniſhment will render idleneſs and drunkenneſs ſtran⯑gers to the poor. If a tax is ſo collect⯑ed, [53] as to leave opportunities to pro⯑cure the commodity, without paying it; the hope of gain will always ſur⯑mount the fear of puniſhment. If, when the veteran has ſerved you at the riſque of life, you withold his hire; it will be in vain to threaten uſury and extortion with impriſonment and fines. If, in your armies, you ſuffer it to be any man's intereſt, rather to preſerve the life of a horſe than a man; be aſſured, that your own ſword is drawn for your enemy: for there will always be ſome, in whom intereſt is ſtronger than humanity and honour. Put no man's intereſt, therefore, in the ballance againſt his duty; nor hope that good can often be produc⯑ed, but by preventing opportunities of evil.’

[54] To theſe precepts of OMAR, HA⯑MET liſtened as to the inſtructions of a father; and having promiſed to keep them as the treaſure of life, he diſ⯑miſſed him from his preſence. The heart of HAMET was now expanded with the moſt pleaſing expectations; but ALMORAN was pining with ſolici⯑tude, jealouſy, and diſtruſt: he took every opportunity to avoid both OMAR and HAMET; but HAMET ſtill retain⯑ed his confidence, and OMAR his ſuſ⯑picions.

CHAP. V.

IN the mean time, the ſyſtem of government was eſtabliſhed which had been propoſed by OMAR, and in which HAMET concurred from princi⯑ple, and ALMORAN from policy. The views of ALMORAN terminated in the gratification of his own appetites and paſſions; thoſe of HAMET, in the diſ⯑charge of his duty: HAMET, there⯑fore, was indefatigable in the buſineſs of the ſtate; and as his ſenſe of honour, and his love of the public, made this the employment of his choice, it was to him the perpetual ſource of a gene⯑rous and ſublime felicity. ALMORAN [56] alſo was equally diligent, but from another motive: he was actuated, not by love of the public, but by jealouſy of his brother; he performed his taſk as the drudge of neceſſity, with reluc⯑tance and ill will; ſo that to him it produced pain and anxiety, wearineſs and impatience.

To atone for this waſte of time, he determined to crowd all that remained with delight: his gardens were an epi⯑tome of all nature, and on his palace were exhauſted all the treaſures of art; his ſeraglio was filled with beauties of every nation, and his table ſupplied with dainties from the remoteſt corners of his dominions. In the ſongs that were repeated in his preſence, he liſtened [57] at once to the voice of adulation and muſic; he breathed the perfumes of Arabia, and he taſted the forbidden pleaſure of wine. But as every appe⯑tite is ſoon ſatiated by exceſs, his ea⯑gerneſs to accumulate pleaſure deprived him of enjoyment. Among the variety of beauty that ſurrounded him, the paſſion, which, to be luxurious, muſt be delicate and refined, was degraded to a mere inſtinct, and exhauſted in endleſs diſſipation; the careſs was un⯑endeared by a conſciouſneſs of recipro⯑cal delight, and was immediately ſuc⯑ceeded by indifference or diſguſt. By the dainties that perpetually urged him to intemperance, that appetite, which alone could make even dainties taſteful, was deſtroyed. The ſplendor of his palace and the beauty of his gardens, [58] became at length ſo familiar to his eye, that they were frequently before him, without being ſeen. Even flattery and muſic loſt their power, by too frequent a repetition: and the broken ſlumbers of the night, and the languor of the morning, were more than equivalent to the tranſient hilarity that was in⯑ſpired by wine. Thus paſſed the time of ALMORAN, divided between pain⯑ful labours which he did not dare to ſhun, and the ſearch of pleaſure which he could never find.

HAMET, on the contrary, did not ſeek pleaſure, but pleaſure ſeemed to ſeek him: he had a perpetual com⯑placence and ſerenity of mind, which rendered him conſtantly ſuſceptible of pleaſing impreſſions; every thing that [59] was prepared to refreſh or entertain him in his ſeaſons of retirement and relaxation, added ſomething to the de⯑light which was continually ſpringing in his breaſt, when he reviewed the paſt, or looked forward to the future. Thus, the pleaſures of ſenſe were heightened by thoſe of his mind, and the pleaſures of the mind by thoſe of ſenſe: he had, indeed, as yet no wife; for as yet no woman had fixed his at⯑tention, or determined his choice.

Among the ambaſſadors whom the monarchs of Aſia ſent to congratulate the ſons of Solyman upon their acceſ⯑ſion to the throne, there was a native of Circaſſia, whoſe name was Abdallah. Abdallah had only one child, a daugh⯑ter, in whom all his happineſs and af⯑fection [60] centered; he was unwilling to leave her behind, and therefore brought her to the court of Perſia. Her mo⯑ther died while ſhe was yet an infant; ſhe was now in the ſixteenth year of her age, and her name was ALMEIDA. She was beautiful as the daughters of Paradiſe, and gentle as the breezes of the ſpring; her mind was without ſtain, and her manners were without art.

She was lodged with her father in a palace that joined to the gardens of the ſeraglio; and it happened that a lamp which had one night been left burning in a lower apartment, by ſome accident ſet fire to the net-work of cotton that ſurrounded a ſopha, and the whole room was ſoon after in a [61] flame. ALMORAN, who had been paſſing the afternoon in riot and de⯑bauchery, had been removed from his banquetting room aſleep; but HAMET was ſtill in his cloſet, where he had been regulating ſome papers that were to be uſed the next day. The windows of this room opened towards the inner apartments of the houſe in which Ab⯑dallah reſided; and HAMET, having by accident looked that way, was alarmed by the appearance of an un⯑uſual light, and ſtarting up to ſee whence it proceeded, he diſcovered what had happened.

Having haſtily ordered the guard of the night to aſſiſt in quenching the flame, and removing the furniture, he ran himſelf into the garden. As [62] ſoon as he was come up to the houſe, he was alarmed by the ſhrieks of a female voice; and the next moment, ALMEIDA appeared at the window of an apartment directly over that which was on fire. ALMEIDA he had till now never ſeen, nor did he ſo much as know that Abdallah had a daughter: but though her perſon was unknown, he was ſtrongly intereſted in her dan⯑ger, and called out to her to throw herſelf into his arms. At the ſound of his voice ſhe ran back into the room, ſuch is the force of inviolate modeſty, though the ſmoke was then riſing in curling ſpires from the win⯑dows: ſhe was, however, ſoon driven back; and part of the floor at the ſame inſtant giving way, ſhe wrapt [63] her veil round her, and leaped into the garden. HAMET caught her in his arms; but though he broke her fall, he ſunk down with her weight: he did not, however, quit his charge; but perceiving ſhe had fainted, he made haſte with her into his apartment, to afford her ſuch aſſiſtance as he could procure.

She was covered only with the light and looſe robe in which ſhe ſlept, and her veil had dropped off by the way. The moment he entered his cloſet, the light diſcovered to him ſuch beauty as before he had never ſeen: ſhe now began to revive; and before her ſenſes returned, ſhe preſſed the prince with an involuntary embrace, which he returned by ſtraining her cloſer to his [64] breaſt, in a tumult of delight, confu⯑ſion, and anxiety, which he could ſcarce ſuſtain. As he ſtill held her in his arms, and gazed ſilently upon her, ſhe opened her eyes, and inſtantly re⯑linquiſhing her hold, ſhrieked out, and threw herſelf from him. As there were no women nearer than that wing of the palace in which his brother re⯑ſided, and as he had many reaſons not to leave her in their charge; he was in the utmoſt perplexity what to do. He aſſured her, in ſome haſty and incoherent words, of her ſecurity; he told her, that ſhe was in the royal palace, and that he who had conveyed her thither was HAMET. The habi⯑tual reverence of ſovereign power, now ſurmounted all other paſſions in the boſom of ALMEIDA: ſhe was inſtantly [65] covered with new confuſion; and hid⯑ing her face with her hands, threw her⯑ſelf at his feet: he raiſed her with a trepidation almoſt equal to her own, and endeavoured to ſooth her into con⯑fidence and tranquillity.

Hitherto her memory had been wholly ſuſpended by violent paſſions, which had crowded upon her in a rapid and uninterrupted ſucceſſion, and the firſt gleam of recollection threw her into a new agony; and having been ſilent a few moments, ſhe ſuddenly ſmote her hands together, and burſting into tears, cried out, ‘Abdallah! my father! my father!’—HAMET not only knew but felt all the meaning of the exclamation, and immediately ran again into the garden: he had ad⯑vanced [66] but a few paces, before he diſ⯑cerned an old man ſitting upon the ground, and looking upward in ſilent anguiſh, as if he had exhauſted the power of complaint. HAMET, upon a nearer approach, perceived by the light of the flame that it was Abdal⯑lah; and inſtantly calling him by his name, told him, that his daughter was ſafe. At the name of his daughter, Abdallah ſuddenly ſtarted up, as if he had been rouſed by the voice of an an⯑gel from the ſleep of death: HAMET again repeated, that his daughter was in ſafety; and Abdallah looking wiſt⯑fully at him, knew him to be the king. He was then ſtruck with an awe that reſtrained him from enquiry: but HAMET directing him where he might find her, went forward, that he [67] might not leſſen the pleaſure of their interview, nor reſtrain the firſt tran⯑ſports of duty and affection by his preſence. He ſoon met with other fugitives from the fire, which had opened a communication between the gardens and the ſtreet; and among them ſome women belonging to AL⯑MEIDA, whom he conducted himſelf to their miſtreſs. He immediately al⯑lotted to her and to her father, an apartment in his diviſion of the pa⯑lace; and the fire being now nearly extinguiſhed, he retired to reſt.

CHAP. VI.

THOUGH the night was far ad⯑vanced, yet the eyes of HAMET were ſtrangers to ſleep: his fancy in⯑ceſſantly repeated the events that had juſt happened; the image of ALMEIDA was ever before him; and his breaſt throbbed with a diſquietude, which, though it prevented reſt, he did not wiſh to loſe.

ALMORAN, in the mean time, was ſlumbering away the effects of his in⯑temperance; and in the morning, when he was told what had happened, he expreſſed no paſſion but curioſity: he [69] went haſtily into the garden; but when he had gazed upon the ruins, and en⯑quired how the fire began, and what it had conſumed, he thought of it no more.

But HAMET ſuffered nothing that regarded himſelf, to exclude others from his attention: he went again to the ruins, not to gratify his curioſity, but to ſee what might yet be done to alleviate the miſery of the ſufferers, and ſecure for their uſe what had been preſerved from the flames. He found that no life had been loſt, but that many perſons had been hurt; to theſe he ſent the phyſicians of his own houſhold: and having rewarded thoſe who had aſſiſted them in their diſtreſs, not forgetting even the ſoldiers who had only fulfilled his own orders, he [70] returned, and applied himſelf to diſ⯑patch the public buſineſs in the cham⯑ber of council, with the ſame patient and diligent attention as if nothing had happened. He had, indeed, ordered enquiry to be made after ALMEIDA; and when he returned to his apart⯑ment, he found Abdallah waiting to expreſs his gratitude for the obligations he had received.

HAMET accepted his acknowledge⯑ments with a peculiar pleaſure, for they had ſome connexion with AL⯑MEIDA; after whom he again en⯑quired, with an ardour uncommon even to the benevolence of HAMET. When all his queſtions had been aſked and anſwered, he appeared ſtill unwil⯑ling to diſmiſs Abdallah, though he [71] ſeemed at a loſs how to detain him; he wanted to know, whether his daugh⯑ter had yet received an offer of mar⯑riage, though he was unwilling to diſcover his deſire by a direct enquiry: but he ſoon found, that nothing could be known, which was not directly aſked, from a man whom reverence and humility kept ſilent before him, except when ſomething was ſaid which amounted to a command to ſpeak. At length, however, he ſaid, not without ſome heſitation, ‘Is there no one, Abdallah, who will thank me for the preſervation of thy daughter, with a zeal equal to thy own?’ Yes,' replied Abdallah, ‘that daugh⯑ter whom thou haſt preſerved.’ This reply, though it was unexpected, was pleaſing: for HAMET was not only [72] gratified to hear, that ALMEIDA had expreſſed herſelf warmly in his behalf, at leaſt as a benefactor; but he judg⯑ed, that if any man had been intereſted in her life as a lover, the anſwer which Abdallah had given him would not ſo readily have occurred to his mind.

As this reflection kept HAMET a few moments ſilent, Abdallah with⯑drew; and HAMET, as he obſerved ſome marks of haſte and confuſion in his countenance, was unwilling longer to continue him in a ſituation, which he had now reaſon to think gave him pain. But Abdallah, who had con⯑ceived a ſudden thought that HAMET's queſtion was an indirect reproach of ALMEIDA, for not having herſelf ſoli⯑cited admiſſion to his preſence; went [73] in haſte to her apartment, and order⯑ed her immediately to make ready to attend him to the king.

ALMEIDA, upon whoſe mind the image of HAMET had not been abſent a moment ſince ſhe firſt ſaw him, re⯑ceived this order with a mixture of pain and pleaſure; of wiſhes, hopes, and apprehenſions, that filled her bo⯑ſom with emotion, and covered her face with bluſhes. She had not courage to aſk the reaſon of the command, which ſhe inſtantly prepared to obey; but the tenderneſs of Abdallah, who perceived and pitied her diſtreſs, antici⯑pated her wiſh. In a ſhort time, there⯑fore, he returned to the chamber of preſence, and having received permiſ⯑ſion, he entered with ALMEIDA in his [74] hand. HAMET roſe in haſte to receive her, with a glow of pleaſure and impati⯑ence in his countenance; and having raiſed her from the ground, ſupported her in his arms, waiting to hear her voice; but though ſhe made many at⯑tempts, ſhe could not ſpeak. HAMET, who knew not to what he owed this ſud⯑den and unexpected interview, which, though he wiſhed, he could contrive no means to obtain; imagined that ALMEIDA had ſome requeſt, and there⯑fore urged her tenderly to make it: but as ſhe ſtill remained ſilent, he looked at Abdallah, as expecting to hear it from him. ‘We have no wiſh,’ ſaid Abdallah, ‘but to atone for our offence; nor any requeſt, but that my lord would now accept the thanks of ALMEIDA for the life [75] which he has preſerved, and impute the delay, not to ingratitude, but inadvertence: let me now take her back, as thy gift; and let the light of thy favour be upon us.’ ‘Take her then,’ ſaid HAMET; ‘for I would give her only to thee.’

Theſe words of HAMET did not eſcape the notice either of Abdallah or ALMEIDA; but neither of them men⯑tioned their conjectures to the other. ALMEIDA, who was inclined to judge of HAMET's ſituation by her own, and who recollected many little inci⯑dents, known only to herſelf, which favoured her wiſhes; indulged the hope, that ſhe ſhould again hear of HAMET, with more confidence than her father; nor were her expectations [76] diſappointed. HAMET reflected with pleaſure, that he had prepared the way for a more explicit declaration; and as his impatience increaſed with his paſ⯑ſion every hour, he ſent for Abdallah the next morning, and told him, that he wiſhed to be more acquainted with his daughter, with a view to make her his wife: ‘As neither you nor your daughter are my ſubjects,’ ſays HAMET, ‘I cannot command you; and if you were, upon this occaſion I would not. I do not want a ſlave, but a friend; not merely a woman, but a wife. If I find ALMEIDA ſuch as my fancy has feigned her; if her mind correſponds with her form; and if I have reaſon to think, that ſhe can give her heart to HA⯑MET, and not merely her hand to the [77] king; I ſhall be happy.’ To this de⯑claration, Abdallah replied with expreſ⯑ſions of the profoundeſt ſubmiſſion and gratitude; and HAMET diſmiſſed him, to prepare ALMEIDA to receive him in the afternoon of the ſame day.

CHAP. VII.

AS eight moons only had paſſed ſince the death of Solyman, and as the reverence of HAMET for the memory of his father would not ſuffer him to marry till the year ſhould be completed; he determined not to men⯑tion ALMEIDA to his brother, till the time when he could marry her was near. The fierce and haughty deport⯑ment of ALMORAN had now left HA⯑MET no room to doubt of his charac⯑ter: and though he had no apprehen⯑ſion that he would make any attempts upon ALMEIDA, after ſhe ſhould be his wife; yet he did not know how much might juſtly be feared from his paſſion, [79] if he ſhould ſee her and become ena⯑moured of her, while ſhe was yet a vir⯑gin in the houſe of her father.

ALMEIDA had not only unſullied pu⯑rity of mind, but principles of refined and exalted virtue; and as the life of HAMET was an example of all that was either great or good, Abdallah felt no anxiety upon leaving them together, except what aroſe from his fears, that his daughter would not be able to ſe⯑cure the conqueſt ſhe had made.

As it was impoſſible for HAMET to have ſuch an acquaintance with AL⯑MEIDA as he deſired, till he could enter into converſation with her upon terms of equality; it was his firſt care to ſooth her into confidence and familia⯑rity, [80] and by degrees he ſucceeded: he ſoon found, in the free intercourſe of mind with mind, which he eſtabliſhed inſtead of the implicit ſubmiſſion which only ecchoed his own voice, how little of the pleaſure that women were formed to give can be enjoyed, when they are conſidered merely as ſlaves to a tyrant's will, the paſſive ſubjects of tranſient dalliance and caſual enjoyment. The pleaſure which he took in the youthful beauty of ALMEIDA, was now endeared, exalted, and refined, by the tender ſen⯑ſibility of her heart, and by the re⯑flexion of his own felicity from her eyes: when he admired the graceful⯑neſs of her motion, the elegance of her figure, the ſymmetry of her features, and the bloom of her complexion, he conſidered them as the decorations only [81] of a mind, capable of mixing with his own in the moſt exquiſite delight, of re⯑ciprocating all his ideas, and catching new pleaſure from his pleaſure. Deſire was no longer appetite; it was imagi⯑nation, it was reaſon; it included re⯑membrance of the paſt, and anticipa⯑tion of the future; and its object was not the ſex, but ALMEIDA.

As HAMET never witheld any plea⯑ſure that it was in his power to impart, he ſoon acquainted Abdallah, that he waited only for a proper time to place ALMEIDA upon the throne; but that he had ſome reaſons for keeping a re⯑ſolution, which he thought himſelf obliged to communicate to him, con⯑cealed from others.

[82] It happened, however, that ſome of the women who attended upon ALMEI⯑DA, met with ſome female ſlaves be⯑longing to the ſeraglio of ALMORAN, at the public baths, and related to them all the particulars of ALMEIDA's pre⯑ſervation by HAMET; that he had firſt conveyed her to his own apartments, and had ſince been frequently with her in that which he had aſſigned her in his palace: they were alſo laviſh in the praiſe of her beauty, and free in their conjectures what might be the iſſue of her intercourſe with HAMET.

Thus the ſituation of HAMET and ALMEIDA became the ſubject of con⯑verſation in the ſeraglio of ALMORAN, who learnt it himſelf in a ſhort time from one of his women.

[83] He had hitherto profeſſed great affec⯑tion for HAMET, and HAMET was de⯑ceived by his profeſſions: for notwith⯑ſtanding the irregularities of his life, he did not think him capable of con⯑cealed malice; or of offering injury to another, except when he was urged by impetuous paſſions to immediate plea⯑ſure. As there was, therefore, an ap⯑pearance of mutual affection between them, ALMORAN, though the report of ALMEIDA's beauty had fired his imagination and fixed him in a reſoluti⯑on to ſee her, did not think proper to attempt it without aſking HAMET's conſent, and being introduced by his order; as he made no doubt of there being a connexion between them which would make him reſent a contrary con⯑duct.

[84] He took an opportunity, therefore, when they were alone in a ſummer pavi⯑lion that was built on a lake behind the palace, to reproach him, with an air of mirth, for having concealed a beauty near his apartments, though he pre⯑tended to have no ſeraglio. HAMET inſtantly diſcovered his ſurprize and emotion by a bluſh, which the next moment left his countenance paler than the light clouds that paſs by night over the moon. ALMORAN took no notice of his confuſion; but that he might more effectually conceal his ſentiments and prevent ſuſpicion, he ſuddenly ad⯑verted to another ſubject, while HA⯑MET was heſitating what to reply. By this artifice HAMET was deceived; and concluded, that whatever ALMORAN had heard of ALMEIDA, had paſſed ſlightly [85] over his mind, and was remembered but by chance; he, therefore, quickly recovered that eaſe and chearfulneſs, which always diſtinguiſhed his conver⯑ſation.

ALMORAN obſerving the ſucceſs of his artifice, ſoon after, as if by a ſud⯑den and caſual recollection, again men⯑tioned the lady; and told him, he would congratulate Abdallah upon having re⯑ſigned her to his bed. As HAMET could not bear to think of ALMORAN's mentioning ALMEIDA to her father as his miſtreſs, he replied, that he had no ſuch intimacy with ALMEIDA as he ſuppoſed; and that he had ſo high an opinion of her virtue, as to believe, that if he ſhould propoſe it ſhe would not conſent. The imagination of AL⯑MORAN [86] caught new fire from beauties which he found were yet unenjoyed, and virtue which ſtamped them with fuperior value by rendering them more difficult of acceſs; and as HAMET had renounced a connection with her as a miſtreſs, he wanted only to know whe⯑ther he intended her for a wife.

This ſecret he was contriving to diſ⯑cover, when HAMET, having reflected, that if he concealed this particular, AL⯑MORAN might think himſelf at liberty to make what attempts he ſhould think fit upon ALMEIDA, without being ac⯑countable to him, or giving him juſt cauſe of offence, put an end to his doubts, by telling him, he had ſuch a deſign; but that it would be ſome time before he ſhould carry it into execution. [87] This declaration increaſed ALMORAN's impatience: ſtill, however, he con⯑cealed his intereſt in the converſation, which he now ſuffered to drop.

He parted from his brother, without any farther mention of ALMEIDA; but while he was yet near him, turned haſ⯑tily back, and, as if merely to gratify his curioſity, told him with a ſmile, that he muſt indulge him with a ſight of his Circaſſian; and deſired he might accompany him in his next viſit, or at ſome more convenient time: with this requeſt, HAMET, as he knew not how to refuſe it, complied; but it filled his mind with anxiety and trouble.

He went immediately to ALMEIDA, and told her all that had happened; [88] and as ſhe ſaw that he was not with⯑out apprehenſions of miſchief from his brother's viſit, ſhe gently reproached him for doubting the fidelity of her affection, as ſhe ſuppoſed no power could be exerted by ALMORAN to in⯑jure him, who in power was his equal. HAMET, in a tranſport of tenderneſs, aſſured her that he doubted neither her conſtancy nor her love: but as to in⯑terrupt the comfort of her mind, would only double his own diſtreſs, he did not tell her whence his apprehenſions proceeded; nor indeed had they any determinate object, but aroſe in gene⯑ral from the character of his brother, and the probability of his becoming a competitor, for what was eſſential to the happineſs of his life.

[89] But if the happineſs of HAMET was leſſened, the infelicity of ALMORAN was increaſed. All the enjoyments that were in his power he neglected, his at⯑tention being wholly fixed upon that which was beyond his reach; he was impatient to ſee the beauty, who had taken intire poſſeſſion of his mind; and the probability that he would be obliged to reſign her to HAMET, tor⯑mented him with jealouſy, envy, and indignation.

HAMET, however, did not long de⯑lay to fulfil his promiſe to his brother; but having prepared ALMEIDA to re⯑ceive him, he conducted him to her apartment. The idea which ALMORAN had formed in his imagination, was ex⯑ceeded by the reality, and his paſſion [90] was proportionably increaſed; yet he found means not only to conceal it from HAMET, but from ALMEIDA, by affecting an air of levity and merriment, which is not leſs incompatible with the pleaſures than the pains of love. Af⯑ter they had been regaled with coffee and ſherbet, they parted; and HAMET congratulated himſelf, that his appre⯑henſions of finding in ALMORAN a ri⯑val for ALMEIDA's love, were now at an end.

But ALMORAN, whoſe paſſions were become more violent by reſtraint, was in a ſtate of mind little better than diſ⯑traction: one moment he determined to ſeize upon the perſon of ALMEIDA in the night, and ſecrete her in ſome place acceſſible only to himſelf; and [91] the next to aſſaſſinate his brother, that he might at once deſtroy a rival both in empire and in love. But theſe de⯑ſigns were no ſooner formed by his wiſhes, than they were rejected by his fears: he was not ignorant, that in any conteſt between him and HAMET, the voice of the public would be againſt him; eſpecially in a conteſt, in which it would appear, that HAMET had ſuf⯑fered wrong.

Many other projects, equally raſh, violent, and injurious, were by turns conceived and rejected: and he came at laſt to no other determination, than ſtill carefully to conceal his paſſion, till he ſhould think of ſome expedient to gratify it; leſt HAMET ſhould have a [92] juſt reaſon for refuſing to let him ſee the lady again, and remove her to ſome place which he might never be able to diſcover.

CHAP. VIII.

IN the mean time, OMAR, to whom HAMET had from time to time diſ⯑cloſed the minuteſt particulars of his ſituation and deſign, kept his eye al⯑moſt continually upon ALMORAN; and obſerved him with an attention and ſagacity, which it was difficult either to elude or deceive. He perceived, that he was more than uſual reſtleſs and turbulent; that in the preſence of HAMET he frequently changed coun⯑tenance; that his behaviour was artifi⯑cial and inconſiſtent, frequently ſhifting from gloomy diſcontent and furious agitation, to forced laughter and noiſy [94] merriment. He had alſo remarked, that he ſeemed moſt diſcompoſed after he had been with HAMET to ALMEI⯑DA, which happened generally once in a week; that he was become fond of ſolitude, and was abſent ſeveral days together from the apartment of his women.

OMAR, who from this conduct of ALMORAN had begun to ſuſpect his principles, determined to introduce ſuch topics of diſcourſe, as might lead him to diſcover the ſtate of his mind; and enable him to enforce and confirm the principles he had taught him, by new proofs and illuſtrations.

ALMORAN, who, ſince the death of his father, had nothing to appre⯑hend [95] from the diſcovery of ſentiments which before he had been careful to conceal; now urged his objections againſt religion, when OMAR gave him opportunity, without reſerve. ‘You tell me,’ ſays he, ‘of beings that are immortal, becauſe they are im⯑material; beings which do not con⯑ſiſt of parts, and which, therefore, can admit no ſolution, the only na⯑tural cauſe of corruption and decay: but that which is not material, can have no extenſion; and what has no extenſion, poſſeſſes no ſpace; and of ſuch beings, the mind itſelf, which you pretend to be ſuch a being, has no conception.’

'If the mind,' ſays OMAR, ‘can perceive that there is in itſelf any [96] ſingle property of ſuch a being, it has irrefragable evidence that it is ſuch a being; though its mode of exiſtence, as diſtinct from matter, cannot now be comprehended.’ ‘And what property of ſuch a being,’ ſaid ALMORAN, ‘does the mind of man perceive in itſelf?’ 'That of acting,' ſaid OMAR, ‘without motion. You have no idea, that a material ſubſtance can act, but in proportion as it moves: yet to think, is to act; and with the idea of thinking, the idea of motion is never connected: on the contrary, we always conceive the mind to be fixed, in proportion to the degree of ardour and intenſeneſs with which the power of thinking is exerted. Now, if that which is material cannot act without motion; and if man is [98] conſcious, that to think, is to act and not to move; it follows, that there is, in man, ſomewhat that is not matter; ſomewhat that has no exten⯑ſion, and that poſſeſſes no ſpace; ſomewhat which, having no contex⯑ture or parts that can be diſſolved or ſeparated, is exempted from all the natural cauſes of decay.’

OMAR pauſed; and ALMORAN hav⯑ing ſtood ſome moments without reply, he ſeized this opportunity to impreſs him with an awful ſenſe of the power and preſence of the Supreme and Eter⯑nal Being, from whom his own exiſt⯑ence was derived: ‘Let us remem⯑ber,’ ſaid he, ‘that to every act of this immaterial and immortal part, the Father of ſpirits, from whom it [98] proceeds, is preſent: when I behold the buſy multitudes that crowd the metropolis of Perſia, in the perſuit of buſineſs and projects infinitely complicated and various; and con⯑ſider that every idea which paſſes over their minds, every concluſion, and every purpoſe, with all that they remember of the paſt, and all that they imagine of the future, is at once known to the Almighty, who without labour or confuſion weighs every thought of every mind in His balance, and reſerves it to the day of retribution; my follies cover me with confuſion, and my ſoul is hum⯑bled in the duſt.’

ALMORAN, though he appeared to liſten with attention, and offered no⯑thing [99] againſt the reaſoning of OMAR, yet ſecretly deſpiſed it as ſophiſtry, which cunning only had rendered ſpe⯑cious; and which he was unable to confute, merely becauſe it was ſubtil, and not becauſe it was true: he had been led, by his paſſions, firſt to love, and then to adopt different opinions; and as every man is inclined to judge of others by himſelf, he doubted, whe⯑ther the principles which OMAR had thus laboured to eſtabliſh, were be⯑lieved even by OMAR himſelf.

Thus was the mind of ALMORAN to the inſtructions of OMAR, as a rock ſlightly covered with earth, is to the waters of heaven: the craggs are left bare by the rain that waſhes them; and the ſame ſhowers that fertilize the field, [100] can only diſcover the ſterility of the rock.

OMAR, however, did not yet diſ⯑cloſe his ſuſpicions to HAMET, be⯑cauſe he did not yet ſee that it could anſwer any purpoſe. To remove AL⯑MEIDA from her apartment, would be to ſhew a diſtruſt, for which there would not appear to be any cauſe; and to refuſe ALMORAN acceſs to her when he deſired it, might precipitate ſuch meaſures as he might meditate, and engage him in ſome deſperate at⯑tempt: he, therefore, contented him⯑ſelf with adviſing HAMET, to conceal the time of his marriage till the even⯑ing before he intended it ſhould take place, without aſſigning the reaſon on which his advice was founded.

[101] To the council of OMAR, HAMET was implicitly obedient, as to the re⯑velations of the Prophet; but, like his inſtructions, it was neglected by AL⯑MORAN, who became every moment more wretched. He had a graceful perſon, and a vigorous mind; he was in the bloom of youth, and had a con⯑ſtitution that promiſed him length of days; he had power which princes were emulous to obey, and wealth by which whatever could adminiſter to luxury might be bought; for every paſſion, and every appetite, it was eaſy for him to procure a perpetual ſuc⯑ceſſion of new objects: yet was AL⯑MORAN, not only without enjoyment, but without peace; he was by turns pining with diſcontent, and raving with indignation; his vices had ex⯑tracted [102] bitter from every ſweet; and having exhauſted nature for delight in vain, he was repining at the bounds in which he was confined, and re⯑gretting the want of other powers as the cauſe of his miſery.

Thus the year of mourning for So⯑lyman was compleated, without any act of violence on the part of ALMO⯑RAN, or of caution on the part of HAMET: but on the evening of the laſt day, HAMET, having ſecretly pre⯑pared every thing for performing the ſolemnity in a private manner, ac⯑quainted ALMORAN by a letter, which OMAR undertook to deliver, that he ſhould celebrate his marriage on the morrow. ALMORAN, who never doubt⯑ed but he ſhould have notice of this [103] event much longer before it was to happen, read the letter with a pertur⯑bation that it was impoſſible to con⯑ceal: he was alone in his private apart⯑ment, and taking his eye haſtily from the paper, he cruſhed it together in his hand, and thruſting it into his boſom, turned from OMAR without ſpeaking; and OMAR, thinking him⯑ſelf diſmiſſed, withdrew.

The paſſions which ALMORAN could no longer ſuppreſs, now burſt out in a torrent of exclamation: 'Am I then, ſaid he, ‘blaſted for ever with a dou⯑ble curſe, divided empire and diſap⯑pointed love! What is dominion, if it is not poſſeſſed alone? and what is power, which the dread of rival power perpetually controuls? Is it for [104] me to liſten in ſilence to the wrang⯑ling of ſlaves, that I may at laſt ap⯑portion to them what, with a clamo⯑rous inſolence, they demand as their due! as well may the ſun linger in his courſe, and the world mourn in darkneſs for the day, that the glow⯑worm may ſtill be ſeen to glimmer upon the earth, and the owls and bats that haunt the ſepulchres of the dead enjoy a longer night. Yet this have I done, becauſe this has been done by HAMET: and my heart ſickens in vain with the deſire of beauty, becauſe my power extends not to ALMEIDA. With dominion undivided and ALMEIDA, I ſhould be ALMORAN; but without them, I am leſs than nothing.’

[105] OMAR, who, before he had paſſed the pavilion, heard a ſound which he knew to be the voice of ALMORAN, re⯑turned haſtily to the chamber in which he left him, believing he had with⯑drawn too ſoon, and that the king, as he knew no other was preſent, was ſpeaking to him: he ſoon drew near enough to hear what was ſaid; and while he was ſtanding torpid in ſuſ⯑penſe, dreading to be diſcovered, and not knowing how to retire, ALMORAN turned about.

At firſt, both ſtood motionleſs with confuſion and amazement; but AL⯑MORAN's pride ſoon ſurmounted his other paſſions, and his diſdain of OMAR gave his guilt the firmneſs of virtue.

[106] 'It is true,' ſaid he, ‘that thou haſt ſtolen the ſecret of my heart; but do not think, that I fear it ſhould be known: though my poig⯑nard could take it back with thy life, I leave it with thee. To reproach, or curſe thee, would do thee ho⯑nour, and lift thee into an import⯑ance which otherwiſe thou canſt never reach.’ ALMORAN then turned from him with a contemptuous frown: but OMAR caught him by the robe; and proſtrating himſelf upon the ground, intreated to be heard. His importu⯑nity at length prevailed; and he at⯑tempted to exculpate himſelf, from the charge of having inſiduouſly intruded upon the privacy of his prince; but ALMORAN ſternly interrupted him: 'And what art thou,' ſaid he, ‘that I [107] ſhould care, whether thou art inno⯑cent or guilty?’ ‘If not for my ſake,’ ſaid OMAR, ‘liſten for thy own; and though my duty is de⯑ſpiſed, let my affection be heard. That thou art not happy, I know; and I now know the cauſe. Let my lord pardon the preſumption of his ſlave: he that ſeeks to ſatisfy all his wiſhes, muſt be wretched; he only can be happy, by whom ſome are ſuppreſſed.’ At theſe words ALMO⯑RAN ſnatched his robe from the hand of OMAR, and ſpurned him in a tranſ⯑port of rage and indignation: ‘The ſup⯑preſſion of deſire,’ ſaid he, ‘is ſuch happineſs, as that of the deaf who do not remember to have heard. If it is virtue, know, that, as virtue, I deſpiſe it; for though it may ſe⯑cure [108] the obedience of the ſlave, it can only degrade the prerogative of a prince. I caſt off all reſtraint, as I do thee: begone, therefore, to HAMET, and ſee me no more.’

OMAR obeyed without reply; and ALMORAN being again alone, the con⯑flict in his mind was renewed with greater violence than before. He felt all that he had diſguiſed to OMAR, with the keeneſt ſenſibility; and anti⯑cipated the effects of his detection, with unutterable anguiſh and regret. He walked backward and forward with a haſty but interrupted pace; ſome⯑times ſtopping ſhort, and preſſing his hand hard upon his brow; and ſome⯑times by violent geſtures ſhowing the agitation of his mind: he ſometimes [109] ſtood ſilent with his eyes fixed upon the ground, and his arms folded toge⯑ther; and ſometimes a ſudden agony of thought forced him into loud and tumultuous exclamations: he curſed the impotence of mind that had ſuf⯑fered his thoughts to eſcape from him unawares, without reflecting that he was even then repeating the folly; and while he felt himſelf the victim of vice, he could not ſuppreſs his contempt of virtue: 'If I muſt periſh,' ſaid he, ‘I will at leaſt periſh unſubdued: I will quench no wiſh that nature kin⯑dles in my boſom; nor ſhall my lips utter any prayer, but for new powers to feed the flame.’

As he uttered this expreſſion, he felt the palace ſhake; he heard a ruſh⯑ing, [110] like a blaſt in the deſart; and a being of more than human appearance ſtood before him. ALMORAN, though he was terrified, was not humbled; and he ſtood expecting the event, whether evil or good, rather with obduracy than courage.

'Thou ſeeſt,' ſays the Appearance, ‘a Genius, whom the daring purpoſe of thy mind has convoked from the middle region, where he was ap⯑pointed to wait the ſignal; and who is now permitted to act in concert with thy will. Is not this the language of thy heart?’ ‘—Whatever plea⯑ſure I can ſnatch from the hand of time, as he paſſes by me, I will ſe⯑cure for myſelf: my paſſions ſhall be ſtrong, that my enjoyments may be [111] great; for what is the portion allot⯑ted to man, but the joyful madneſs that prolongs the hours of feſtivity, the fierce delight that is extorted from injury by revenge, and the ſweet ſucceſſion of varied pleaſures which the wiſh that is ever changing pre⯑pares for love?’

'Whatever thou art,' ſaid ALMO⯑RAN, ‘whoſe voice has thus diſcloſed the ſecret of my ſoul, accept my ho⯑mage; for I will worſhip thee: and be thou henceforth my wiſdom and my ſtrength.’

'Ariſe,' ſaid the Genius, ‘for there⯑fore am I ſent. To thy own powers, mine ſhall be ſuperadded: and if, as weak only, thou haſt been wretched; [112] henceforth thou ſhalt be happy. Take no thought for to-morrow; to-morrow, my power ſhall be employed in thy behalf. Be not affrighted at any prodigy; but put thy confidence in me.’ While he was yet ſpeaking and the eyes of ALMORAN were fixed upon him, a cloud gathered round him; and the next moment diſſolving again into air, he diſappeared.

CHAP. IX.

ALMORAN, when he recovered from his aſtoniſhment, and had reflected upon the prodigy, determined to wait the iſſue, and refer all his hopes to the interpoſition of the Ge⯑nius, without attempting any thing to retard the marriage; at which he re⯑ſolved to be preſent, that he might im⯑prove any ſupernatural event which might be produced in his favour.

HAMET, in the mean time, was an⯑ticipating the morrow with a mixture of anxiety and pleaſure; and though he had no reaſon to think any thing [114] could prevent his marriage, yet he wiſhed it was over, with an impatience that was conſiderably increaſed by fear.

Though the anticipation of the great event that was now ſo near, kept him waking the greateſt part of the night, yet he roſe early in the morning; and while he waited till ALMEIDA ſhould be ready to ſee him, he was told that OMAR was without, and deſired admittance. When he came in, HAMET, who al⯑ways watched his countenance as a mariner the ſtars of heaven, perceived that it was obſcured with perplexity and grief. 'Tell me,' ſaid HAMET, ‘whence is the ſorrow that I diſcover in thy face?’ 'I am ſorrowful,' ſaid OMAR, 'not for myſelf, but for thee.' At theſe words HAMET ſtept back⯑ward, [115] and fixed his eyes upon OMAR, without power to ſpeak. 'Conſider, ſaid OMAR, ‘that thou art not a man only, but a prince: conſider alſo, that immortality is before thee; and that thy felicity, during the endleſs ages of immortality, depends upon thy⯑ſelf: fear not, therefore, what thou canſt ſuffer from others; the evil and the good of life are tranſient as the morning dew, and over theſe only the hand of others can prevail.’

HAMET, whoſe attachment to life was ſtrong, and whoſe expectations of immediate enjoyment were high, did not feel the force of what OMAR had ſaid, though he aſſented to its truth. 'Tell me,' ſaid he, ‘at once, what thou feareſt for me; deliver me from [116] the torments of ſuſpenſe, and truſt my own fortitude to ſave me from deſpair.’ 'Know then,' ſaid OMAR, ‘that thou art hated by ALMORAN, and that he loves ALMEIDA.’ At this declaration, the aſtoniſhment of HAMET was equal to his concern; and he was in doubt whether to believe or diſbelieve what he heard: but the moment he recollected the wiſdom and integrity of OMAR, his doubts were at an end; and having recovered from his ſurprize, he was about to make ſuch enquiries as might gratify the anxious and tumultuous curioſity which was excited in his breaſt, when OMAR, lifting up his hand, and beginning again to ſpeak, HAMET remained ſilent.

[117] 'Thou knoweſt,' ſaid OMAR, ‘that when my cheeks were yet ruddy with youth, and my limbs were braced by vigour, that mine eye was guided to knowledge by the lamp that is kind⯑led at midnight; and much of what is hidden in the innermoſt receſſes of nature, was diſcovered to me: my prayer aſcended in ſecret to Him, with whom there is wiſdom from everlaſting to everlaſting, and He il⯑luminated my darkneſs with His light. I know, by ſuch ſenſations as the world either feels not at all, or feels unnoticed without knowledge of their uſe, when the powers that are inviſible are permitted to mingle in the walks of men; and well I know, that ſome being, who is more than mortal, has joined with ALMORAN [118] againſt thee, ſince the veil of night was laſt ſpread upon the earth.’

HAMET, whoſe blood was chilled with horror, and whoſe nerves were no longer obedient to his will, after ſeveral ineffectual attempts to ſpeak, looked up at OMAR; and ſtriking his hand upon his breaſt, cried out, in an ear⯑neſt, but faultering voice, ‘What ſhall I do?’ 'Thou muſt do,' ſaid OMAR, ‘that which is RIGHT. Let not thy foot be drawn by any al⯑lurement, or driven by any terror, from the path of virtue. While thou art there, thou art in ſafety: and though the world ſhould unite againſt thee, by the united world thou canſt not be hurt.’

[119] 'But what friendly power,' ſaid HAMET, ‘ſhall guard even the path of virtue from grief and pain; from the ſilent ſhaft of diſappointed love, or the ſounding ſcourge of outrage⯑ous jealouſy? Theſe, ſurely, have overtaken the foot of perſeverance; and by theſe, though I ſhould per⯑ſevere, may my feet be overtaken.’ What thou ſayeſt,' replied OMAR, ‘is true; and it is true alſo, that the tempeſt which roots up the foreſt, is driven over the mountain with un⯑abated rage: but from the moun⯑tain, what can it take more than the vegetable duſt, which the hand of nature has ſcattered upon the moſs that covers it? As the duſt is to the mountain, ſo is all that the ſtorms of life can take from virtue, to the [120] ſum of good which the Omnipotent has appointed for its reward.’ HA⯑MET, whoſe eye now expreſſed a kind of doubtful confidence, a hope that was repreſſed by fear, remained ſtill ſilent; and OMAR, perceiving the ſtate of his mind, proceeded to fortify it by new precepts: 'If heaven,' ſaid he, ‘ſhould vaniſh like a vapour, and this firm orb of earth ſhould crumble into duſt, the virtuous mind would ſtand unmoved amidſt the ruins of nature: for He, who has appointed the heavens and the earth to fail, has ſaid to virtue, ‘Fear not; for thou canſt neither periſh, nor be wretched.’ Call up thy ſtrength, therefore, to the fight in which thou art ſure of conqueſt: do thou only [121] that which is RIGHT, and leave the event to Heaven.’

HAMET, in this conference with OMAR, having gradually recovered his fortitude; and the time being now near, when he was to conduct AL⯑MEIDA to the court of the palace, where the marriage ceremony was to be performed; they parted with mu⯑tual benedictions, each recommending the other to the protection of the Moſt High.

At the appointed hour, the princes of the court being aſſembled, the mufti and the imans being ready, and ALMORAN ſeated upon his throne; HAMET and ALMEIDA came forward, and were placed one on the right hand, [122] and the other on the left. The mufti was then advancing, to hear and to re⯑cord the mutual promiſe which was to unite them; ALMORAN was execrating the appearance of the Genius, as a de⯑luſive dream, in all the tumults of an⯑guiſh and deſpair; and HAMET began to hope, that the ſuſpicions of OMAR had been ill founded; when a ſtroke of thunder ſhook the palace to its foun⯑dations, and a cloud roſe from the ground, like a thick ſmoke, between HAMET and ALMEIDA.

ALMORAN, who was inſpired with new confidence and hope, by that which had ſtruck the reſt of the aſſembly with terror, ſtarted from his ſeat with an ardent and furious look; and at the ſame moment, a voice, that iſſued from [123] the cloud, pronounced with a loud but hollow tone, ‘Fate has decreed, to ALMORAN, ALMEIDA.’

At theſe words, ALMORAN ruſhed forward, and placing himſelf by the ſide of ALMEIDA, the cloud diſap⯑peared; and he cried out, ‘Let me now proclaim to the world the ſecret, which to this moment I have hidden in my boſom: I love ALMEIDA. The being who alone knew my love, has now by miracle approved it. Let his decree be accompliſhed.’ He then commanded that the ceremony ſhould proceed; and ſeizing the hand of the lady, began to repeat that part of it which was to have been repeated by HAMET. But ALMEIDA inſtantly drew her hand from him in an agony of diſ⯑treſs; [124] and HAMET, who till then had ſtood motionleſs with amazement and horror, ſtarted from his trance, and ſpringing forward ruſhed between them. ALMORAN turned fiercely upon him; but HAMET, who having been warned by OMAR, knew the prodigy to be effected by ſome evil being whom it was virtue to reſiſt, laid his hand upon his ſcymi⯑tar, and, with a frown of indignation and defiance, commanded him to ſtand off: 'I now know thee,' ſaid he, ‘as a man; and, therefore, as a brother I know thee not.’

ALMORAN reflecting, that the foun⯑dation of this reproach was unknown to all who were preſent, and that to them he would therefore appear to be injured; looked round with an affected [125] ſmile of wonder and compaſſion, as ap⯑pealing to them from a charge that was thus fiercely and injuriouſly brought againſt him, and imputing it to the violence of ſudden paſſions by which truth and reaſon were overborne. The eye of HAMET at once detected the artifice, which he diſdained to expoſe; he, therefore, commanded the guard that attended to carry off ALMEIDA to her apartment. The guard was prepar⯑ing to obey, when ALMORAN, who thought he had now ſuch an opportu⯑nity to get her into his own power as would never return, ordered them to ſee her ſafely lodged in his own ſeraglio.

The men, who thus received oppo⯑ſite commands from perſons to whom [126] they owed equal obedience, ſtood ſtill in ſuſpenſe, not knowing which to prefer: ALMORAN then reproached them with want of obedience, not to him, but to God, appealing to the pro⯑digy for the juſtification of his claim. HAMET, on the contrary, repeated his order, with a look and emphaſis ſcarce leſs commanding than the thunder and the voice. But the prieſts interpoſing in favour of ALMORAN, upon preſump⯑tion that his right had been decided by a ſuperior power; the guard ruſh⯑ed between HAMET and ALMEIDA, and with looks that expreſſed the ut⯑moſt reluctance and regret, attempted to ſeparate their hands, which were claſped in each other. She was af⯑frighted at the violence, but yet more at the apprehenſion of what was to [127] follow; ſhe, therefore, turned her eyes upon HAMET, conjuring him not to leave her, in a tone of tenderneſs and diſ⯑treſs which it is impoſſible to deſcribe: he replied with a vehemence that was worthy of his paſſion, ‘I will not leave thee, and immediately drew his ſa⯑bre.’ At the ſame moment they forced her from him; and a party having in⯑terpoſed to cover thoſe that were car⯑rying her off, HAMET lifted up his weapon to force his paſſage through them; but was prevented by OMAR, who, having preſſed through the crowd, preſented himſelf before him. ‘Stop me not,’ ſaid HAMET, ‘it is for ALMEIDA.’ 'If thou wouldſt ſave ALMEIDA,' ſaid OMAR, ‘and thyſelf, do that only which is RIGHT. What have theſe done who oppoſe thee, [128] more than they ought? and what end can their deſtruction anſwer, but to ſtain thy hands with unavailing murder? Thou canſt only take the life of a few faithful ſlaves, who will not lift up their hands againſt thee: thou canſt not reſcue ALMEIDA from thy brother; but thou canſt preſerve thyſelf from guilt.’

Theſe words of OMAR ſuſpended the rage of HAMET, like a charm; and returning his ſcymitar into its ſheath, 'Let me then,' ſaid he, ‘ſuf⯑fer, and be guiltleſs. It is true, that againſt theſe ranks my ſingle arm muſt be ineffectual; but if my wrongs can rouſe a nation to repreſs the tyranny, that will ſhortly extend over it the injuries that now reach [129] only to me, juſtice ſhall be done to HAMET.’ Then turning to ALMO⯑RAN, 'Henceforth,' ſaid he, ‘the king⯑dom ſhall be mine or thine. To go⯑vern in concert with thee, is to aſſo⯑ciate with the powers of hell. The beings that are ſuperior to evil, are the friends of HAMET; and if theſe are thy enemies, what ſhall be thy defence?’ ALMORAN replied only by a contemptuous ſmile; and the aſ⯑ſembly being diſmiſſed he retired to his apartment: and HAMET and OMAR went out to the people, who had ga⯑thered in an incredible multitude about the palace.

CHAP. X.

A Rumour of what had happened within had reached them, which ſome believed, and ſome doubted: but when they ſaw OMAR and HAMET re⯑turn together, and obſerved that their looks were full of reſentment and trou⯑ble, they became ſilent with attention in a moment; which OMAR obſerving, addreſſed them with an eloquence of which they had often acknowledged the force, and of which they never re⯑pented the effect.

He told them the tender connexion between HAMET and ALMEIDA, and [131] diſcloſed the ſubtil hypocriſy of ALMO⯑RAN: he expatiated upon the folly of ſuppoſing, that the power that was ſu⯑preme in goodneſs and truth, ſhould command a violation of vows that had been mutually interchanged, and often repeated; and devote to ALMORAN the beauties, which could only be vo⯑luntarily ſurrendered to HAMET. They heard him with a vacant countenance of ſurprize and wonder; and while he waited for their reply, they agreed among themſelves, that no man could avoid the deſtiny that was written upon his head; and that if ALMEIDA had thus been taken from HAMET, and given to ALMORAN, it was an event that by an unchangeable decree was appointed to happen; and that, there⯑fore, it was their duty to acquieſce. [132] OMAR then beckoned with his hand for audience a ſecond time; and told them, that ALMORAN had not only practiſed the arts of ſorcery to deprive HAMET of ALMEIDA, but that he me⯑ditated a deſign to uſurp the ſole do⯑minion, and deprive him of the ſhare of the government to which he had a right by the will of Solyman his fa⯑ther. This alſo they heard with the ſame ſentiments of wonder and ac⯑quieſcence: If it is decreed, ſaid they, that ALMORAN ſhall be king alone, who can prevent it? and if it is not, who can bring it to paſs? ‘But know ye not,’ ſaid OMAR, ‘that when the end is appointed, the means are ap⯑pointed alſo. If it is decreed that one of you ſhall this night die by [133] poiſon, is it not decreed alſo that he ſhall drink it?’

The crowd now gazed upon each other, without reply, for ſome minutes: and at laſt they only ſaid, that no ef⯑fort of theirs could change the univer⯑ſal appointment of all things; that if ALMORAN was to be king alone, he would be fo notwithſtanding all oppoſi⯑tion; and that if he was not to be king alone, no attempt of his own, however ſupported, could make him ſo. 'I will not,' ſaid OMAR, ‘con⯑tradict your opinion; I will only tell you what I have heard, and leave you to ſuffer the calamities which threaten you, with a fortitude and reſignation that are ſuitable to your principles; having no conſolation to [134] offer you, but that HAMET, whoſe deſtiny it was not to make you happy, will ſuffer with you the evils, that neither he nor you could pre⯑vent: the mournful comfort of this fellowſhip, he will not be denied; for he loves you too well, to wiſh even to be happy alone.’ The crowd fixed their eyes upon HAMET, for whom their affection was now ſtrongly moved, with looks of much greater intelligence and ſenſibility; a confuſed murmur, like the fall of the pebbles upon the beach when the ſurge retires from the ſhore, expreſſed their gratitude to HAMET, and their apprehenſions for themſelves.

OMAR waited till they were again ſilent, and then improved the advan⯑tage he had gained. 'ALMORAN,' [135] ſaid he, ‘conſiders you as the ſlaves of his power; HAMET as the objects of his benevolence: your lives and your properties, in the opinion of ALMO⯑RAN, are below his notice; but HA⯑MET conſiders his own intereſt as connected with yours. When ALMO⯑RAN, therefore, ſhall be unchecked by the influence of HAMET; he will leave you to the mercy of ſome dele⯑gated tyrant, whoſe whole power will be exerted to oppreſs you, that he may enrich himſelf.’

A new fire was now kindled in their eyes, and their cheeks glowed with indignation at the wrongs that threat⯑ened them; they were no longer diſ⯑poſed to act upon the principles of fa⯑tality, as they had perverſely under⯑ſtood [136] them; and they argued at once like reaſonable and free beings, whoſe actions were in their choice, and who had no doubt but that their actions would produce adequate effects. They recollected that OMAR had, in the reign of Solyman, often reſcued them from ſuch oppreſſion, as now threat⯑ened them; and that the power of HAMET had ſince interpoſed in their behalf, when ALMORAN would have ſtretched his prerogative to their hurt, or have left them a prey to the farmer of a tax. 'Shall HAMET,' ſaid they, ‘be deprived of the power, that he employs only for our benefit; and ſhall it center in ALMORAN, who will abuſe it to our ruin? Shall we ra⯑ther ſupport ALMORAN in the wrong he has done to HAMET, than HA⯑MET [137] to obtain juſtice of ALMORAN? HAMET is our king; let him com⯑mand us, and we will obey.’ This was uttered with a ſhout that ecchoed from the mountains beyond the city, and continued near a full hour. In the mean time, the multitude was in⯑creaſing every moment; and the troops that lay in and near the city having taken arms, fell in with the ſtream: they were ſecretly attached to HA⯑MET, under whoſe eye they had been formed, and of whoſe bounty they had often partaken; and their fear being removed by the general cry, which left them no room to apprehend an oppo⯑ſition in favour of ALMORAN, they were now at full liberty to follow their inclinations.

[138] In the mean time, ALMORAN, who had retired to the innermoſt court of the palace, had heard the tumult, and was alarmed for his ſafety: he ran from room to room, confuſed and ter⯑rified, without attempting or directing any thing either for his defence or eſcape; yet he ſent every moment to know the ſtate of the inſurrection, and to what end its force would be di⯑rected.

Among thoſe whom accident rather than choice had attached to the intereſt of ALMORAN, were Oſmyn and Caled: they were both diſtinguiſhed by his fa⯑vour; and each had conceived hopes that, if he ſhould poſſeſs the throne alone, he would delegate his authority to him. ALMORAN now ordered them [139] to take the command of the troops, that were appointed to attend his per⯑ſon as their peculiar duty, with as many others as had not declared for HAMET, and to ſecure all the avenues that led to his ſeraglio.

OMAR and HAMET were now on horſeback, and had begun to form the troops that had joined them, and as many others as were armed, which were before mingled together in a con⯑fuſed multitude. An account of this was brought to ALMORAN by Oſmyn; and threw him into a perturbation and perplexity, that diſgraced his charac⯑ter, and confounded his attendants. He urged Oſmyn, in whom he moſt confided, to diſpatch, without giving him any orders to execute; then turn⯑ing [140] from him, he uttered, in a low and inarticulate voice, the moſt paſ⯑ſionate exclamations of diſtreſs and terror, being ſtruck with the thought that his guard might betray him: when he recollected himſelf, and perceived that Oſmyn was ſtill preſent, he burſt into a rage, and ſnatching out his poig⯑nard, he ſwore by the ſoul of the Pro⯑phet, that if he did not inſtantly at⯑tempt ſomething, he would ſtab him to the heart. Oſmyn drew back trem⯑bling and confuſed; but having yet received no orders, he would have ſpoken, but ALMORAN drove him from his preſence with menaces and execrations.

The moment that Oſmyn left him, his rage ſubſided in his fears, and his [141] fears were mingled with remorſe: 'Which way ſoever I turn,' ſaid he, ‘I ſee myſelf ſurrounded by deſtruc⯑tion. I have incenſed Oſmyn by un⯑reaſonable diſpleaſure, and cauſeleſs menaces. He muſt regard me at once with abhorrence and contempt: and it is impoſſible, but he ſhould revolt to HAMET.’

In this agony, the terrors of futu⯑rity ruſhed upon his mind with all their force; and he ſtarted as if at the bite of a ſcorpion: 'To me,' ſaid he, ‘death, that now approaches, will be but the beginning of ſorrow. I ſhall be cut off at once from enjoyment, and from hope; and the dreadful moment is now at hand.’ While he was ſpeaking, the palace again ſhook, [142] and he ſtood again in the preſence of the Genius.

'ALMORAN,' ſaid the inhabitant of the unapparent world, ‘the evil which thou feareſt, ſhall not be upon thee. Make haſte, and ſhew thyſelf from the gallery to the people, and the tumult of faction ſhall be ſtill before thee: tell them, that their rebellion is not againſt thee only, but againſt Him by whom thou reigneſt: ap⯑peal boldly to that power for a con⯑firmation of thy words, and rely for the atteſting ſign upon me.’ ALMO⯑RAN, who had ſtooped with his face to the ground, now looked upward, and found himſelf alone: he haſted, therefore, to follow the directions he [143] had received; and hope was again kindled in his boſom.

Oſmyn, in the mean time, made a proper diſpoſition of the troops now under his command; and had directed a ſelect company to remain near the perſon of the king, that they might at leaſt make good his retreat. While he was waiting at his poſt, and revolving in his mind the total diſappointment of his hopes, and conſidering what he ſhould do if HAMET ſhould eſtabliſh himſelf alone, he was joined by Caled.

Caled had a ſecret enmity againſt Oſmyn, as his rival in the favour of ALMORAN; but as he had concealed his own pretenſions from Oſmyn, Oſ⯑myn had no ill will againſt Caled. As [144] they were now likely to be involved in one common calamity, by the ruin of the prince whoſe party they had eſ⯑pouſed; Caled's enmity ſubſided, and the indifference of Oſmyn was warmed into kindneſs: mutual diſtreſs pro⯑duced mutual confidence; and Caled, after condoling with Oſmyn on their preſent hopeleſs ſituation, propoſed that they ſhould draw off their forces, and revolt to HAMET. This propoſi⯑tion Oſmyn rejected, not only from principle, but from intereſt: ‘Now we have accepted of a truſt,’ ſaid he, ‘we ought not to betray it. If we had gone over to HAMET, when he firſt declared againſt his brother, he would have received us with joy, and probably have rewarded our ſer⯑vice; but I know, that his virtue [145] will abhor us for treachery, though practiſed in his favour: treachery, under the dominion of HAMET, will not only cover us with diſhonour, but will probably devote us to death.’

In this reaſoning, Caled could not but acquieſce; he felt himſelf ſecretly but forcibly reproved, by the ſuperior virtue of Oſmyn: and while he regret⯑ted his having made a propoſal, which had been rejected not only as impru⯑dent but infamous; he concluded, that Oſmyn would ever after ſuſpect and deſpiſe him; and he, therefore, from a new cauſe, conceived new enmity againſt him. They parted, however, without any appearance of ſuſpicion [146] or diſguſt; and, in a ſhort time, they were in circumſtances very different from their expectations.