EIGHTH EVENING.

THE

HAPPINESS

OF

A VIRTUOUS LIFE.

A TALE.

IN

Na lovely valley, between the chalky cliffs of Chaldee, watered by a perennial stream from the ancient Euphratès, Barcas, descended from the patriarchs of old, had pitched his tents. A towering oak, venerable with age, the shadow of whose spreading branches offered a cooling retreat

from

from the noontide rays, stood before them; and behind them a lofty grove of citrons and pomegranates, delighted the eye of the traveller, and gave its spicy odours to the fluttering breeze. His doors were always open to the stranger and the fatherless; the indigent found him a generous benefactor, and the oppressed a powerful protector. He delighted to remove the chilling hand of poverty from the unfortunate, and to pour the balm of comfort into the breast of the friendless. Filled with the generous principles of virtue and beneficence, he was not contented with enjoying happiness himself, but desirous of extending it to all the human race.

He always pitched his tents within sight of some principal road, that the weary traveller might find refreshment, and rest Securely after the toils of the day

Among the rest that visited the hospitable tents of Barcas, was Selim, Prince of Arden,

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Arden, who had been driven from his country by the Sophi of Persia. His countenance was clouded with cares and disapé pointments; and his attention wholly employed in meditating on his misfortunes.

Barcas received the unfortunate stranger with that cordial affection which had endeared him to, all the inhabitants of the neighbouring countries. He treated him in the most hospitable manner, and endeavoured by a chearful and engaging conversation, to banish that melancholy which preyed upon his mind; but finding all his endeavours fruitless, he thus addressed the Prince of Arden.

"Some misfortune, heavier than those common to the sons of men, has doubtless fallen upon thee, and thy spirits are unable to support the ponderous weight; but tel me, thou that hast drank deep of the cup of affliction, is it impossible to remove the cause of thy grief, or to mitigate thy sorrow ?

row? Is the dart of affliction pierced so far into thy breast that it cannot be drawn, and is the wound too deep to admit of a cure? Remember that the path of life lics along the margin of the river of adversity, and every human being is obliged to drink often of its bitter stream. But let not the misfortunes common to all the children of men discourage us, nor deprive us of those innocent pleasures which the bountiful F'ather of the Universe hath scattered around us with a liberal hand."

"Thy reasonings, Barcas," replied the stranger, "are doubtless just; but misfortunes like mine are too many to be re moved, and too heavy to be supported : thou canst not be a stranger to the melancholy fate of Selim, Prince of Arden. He lately flourished like a tall cedar on the mountains, and was eminently distinguished among the princes of the earth. The oppressed of different nations implored his protection,

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protection, and at his command the proud tyrants of the neighbouring countries laid the rod of oppression aside. But the haughty Persian prevailed against him, and laid all his honours in the dust. His populous cities are destroyed, and deluged with the blood of their inhabitants-his fruitful fields are turned into a desart--and his wives and children captives in the house of an imperious master. O Barcas! can misfortunes like these be supported with patience, or lessened by the generous aid of friendship?

I well know, that if thy wisdom can point out a remedy for my grief, thy sincere desire of being serviceable to all the sons and daughters of affliction, will not suffer thee to conceal it."

"Selim," replied the shepherd of Chaldee, "thy misfortunes are certainly grievous, and heavy to be borne; but let not thy hours be spent in fruitless complainings, nor dare to pry into the arcana, of heaven.

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