VIII. Be kind to thy father, for when thou wast young, (CH 3) Who loved thee so fondly as he? He caught the first accents that fell from thy tongue, And joined in thy innocent glee. Be kind to thy father, for now he is old, His locks intermingled with grey; His footsteps are feeble-once fearless and bold- Be kind to thy mother, for, lo! on her brow, O well may'st thou cherish and comfort her now, With accents of kindness, then cheer her lone way IX. The shades of night were falling fast, In happy homes he saw the light And from his lips escaped a groan— "Try not the pass," the old man said; A traveler, by the faithful hound, OMAR, the son (A 42) of Hassan, had passed seventy-five years in honor and prosperity. The favor of three successive califfs had filled his house with gold and silver; and, whenever he appeared (A 17), the benedictions of the people proclaimed his passage. Terrestrial happiness is of short continuance. The brightness of the flame is wasting its fuel; the fragrant flower is passing away in its own odors. The vigor of Omar began to fail; the curls of beauty fell from his head; strength departed from his hands, and agility (A 13 note) from his feet. He gave back to the califf the keys of trust, and the seals of secrecy; he sought no other pleasure for the remains of life, than (G 103) the converse of the wise, and the gratitude of the good. His The powers of his mind were yet unimpaired. chamber was filled by visitants, eager to catch the dictates of experience, and officious to pay the tribute of admiration. Caled, the son of the viceroy of Egypt, entered, every day, (A 40, note b.) early, and retired late. He was beautiful and eloquent (C. H. 3). Omar admired his wit and loved his docility. "Tell me," said Caled, "thou to whose voice nations have listened, and whose wisdom is known to the extremities of Asia, tell me how I may resemble Omar the prudent. The arts, by which thou hast gained power and preserved it, are to thee no longer necessary or useful. Impart to me the secret of thy conduct, and teach me the plan upon which thy wisdom has built thy fortune." XII. "Young man," said Omar, "it is of little use to form plans of life. When I took my first survey of the world, in my twentieth year, having considered the various conditions of mankind, in the hour of solitude I said thus to myself-leaning against a cedar, which spread its branches. over my head: Seventy years are allowed to man: I have yet fifty remaining. "Ten years I will allot to the attainment of knowledge, and ten I will pass in foreign countries; I shall be learned, and therefore shall be honored; every city will shout at my arrival, and every student will solicit my friendship. Twenty years thus passed, will store my mind with images, which I shall be busy, through the rest of my life, in combining and comparing. I shall revel in inexhaustible accumulations of intellectual riches: I shall find new pleasures for every moment, and shall never more be weary of myself. "I will not, however, deviate too far from the beaten track of life; but will try what (G. 156, Obs. 5), can be found in female delicacy. I will marry a wife, beautiful (G. 165, Obs. 4) as the Houris, and wise as Zobeide; with her I will live twenty years (A. 40 note 6) within the suburbs of Bagdad, in every pleasure that wealth can purchase, and fancy can invent. XIII. I will then retire to a rural dwelling; pass my days in obscurity and contemplation; and lie silently down on the bed of death. Through my life, it shall be my settled resolution, that I will never depend upon the smile of princes; that I will never stand exposed to the artifices of courts; that I will never pant for public hoñors, nor disturb my quiet with the affairs of state. Such was my scheme of life, which I impressed indelibly upon my memory. The first part of my ensuing time was to be spent in search of knowledge; and I know not how I was diverted from my design. I had no visible impediments without, nor any ungovernable passions within. I regarded knowledge as the highest honor, and the most engaging pleasure; yet day stole upon day, and month glided after month, till I found that seven years of the first ten had vanished, and left nothing behind them. I now postponed my purpose of travelling; for why should I go abroad, while so much remained to be learned. at home? I immured myself for four years, and studied the laws of the empire. The fame of my skill reached the judges I was found (G. 129, Obs. 9) able to speak upon doubtful questions, and was commanded to stand at the footstool of the calif. I was heard with attention; I was consulted with confidence; and the love of praise fastened on my heart. XIV. I still wished to see distant countries; listened with rapture to the relations of travellers; and resolved, sometime (A. 40, note b.) to ask my dismission, that I might feast my soul with novelty. But my presence was always necessary; nd the stream of business hurried me along. Sometimes I was afraid lest I should be charged with ingratitude; but I still proposed to travel, and therefore would not confine myself by marriage. In my fiftieth year, I began to suspect that (G. 179, Obs. 4) the time of travelling was past, and thought it best (G. 129, Obs. 8) to lay hold on the felicity yet in (G. 94, Obs. 2) my power, and indulge myself in domestic pleasures. But, at fifty, no man easily finds a woman beautiful as the Houries, and wise as Zobeide. I inquired and rejected, consulted and deliberated, till the sixty-second year made me ashamed (G. 129, Obs. 9) of wishing to marry. I had now (G. 173, note 4) nothing left but retirement; and, for retirement I never found a time, till disease forced me from public employment. Such (CH.3) was my scheme, and such has been its consequence. With (G. 94, Obs. 2) an insatiable thirst for knowledge I trifled away the years of improvement; with a restless desire of seeing (A. 30) different countries, I have always resided in the same city; with the highest expectation of connubial felicity, I have lived unmarried; and, with unalterable resolutions of contemplative retirement, I am going to die within the walls of Bagdat. XV. DR. JOHNSON. Obidah, the son of Abensina, left the caravansera early in the morning, and pursued his journey through the plains of Indostan. He was fresh and vigorous with rest; he was animated with hope; he was incited by desire; he walked swiftly forward over the valleys, and saw the hills gradually rising before him. As he passed along, his ears were delighted with the morning song of the bird of paradise; he was fanned by the last flutters of the sinking breeze, and sprinkled with dew from groves of spices. He sometimes contemplated the towering height of the oak, monarch of the hills; and sometimes the gentle fragrance of the primrose, eldest daughter of the spring; all his senses were gratified, and all care was banished from his heart. Thus he went on, till the sun approached his meridian, and the increased heat preyed upon his strength; he then looked round about him for some more commodious path. He saw, on his right hand, a grove that seemed to wave its shades as a sign of invitation; he entered it, and found the coolness and verdure irresistibly pleasant. |