A Dervise, venerable by his age, fell ill in the house of a woman who had been long a widow, and lived in extreme poverty in the suburbs of Balsora. He was so touched with the care and zeal with which she had assisted him, that at his departure he said to her, “I have remarked that you have wherewith to subsist alone, but that you have not subsistence enough to share it with your only son, the young Abdallah. If you will trust him to my care, I will endeavour to acknowledge, in his person, the obligations I have to you for your care of me.” The good woman received this proposal with joy; and the Dervise departed with the young man, advertising her, that they must perform a journey which would last nearly two years. As they travelled he kept him in affluence, gave him excellent instructions, cured him of a dangerous disease with which he was attacked; in fine, he took the same care of him as if he had been his own son. Abdallah a hundred times testified his gratitude to him for all his bounties; but the old man always answered, “My son, it is by actions that gratitude is proved; we shall see in a proper time and place, whether you are so grateful as you pretend.”

One day, as they continued their travels, they found themselves in a solitary place, and the Dervise said to Abdallah, “My son, we are now at the end of our journey; I shall employ my prayers to obtain from Heaven, that the earth may open and make an entrance wide enough to permit thee to descend into a place where thou wilt find one of the greatest treasures that the earth incloses into her bowels. Hast thou courage to descend into this subterraneous vault?” continued he. Abdallah swore to him, he might depend upon his obedience and zeal. Then the Dervise lighted a small fire, into which he cast a perfume; he read and prayed for some moments, after which the earth opened, and the Dervise said to him—“Thou mayest now enter, my dear Abdallah, remember that it is in thy power to do me a great service; and that this is, perhaps, the only opportunity thou canst ever have of testifying to me that thou art not ungrateful: Do not let thyself be dazzled by all the riches thou wilt find there; think only of seizing upon an iron candlestick with twelve branches, which thou wilt find close to a door; that is absolutely necessary to me; come up immediately, and bring it to me.” Abdallah promised every thing, and descended boldly into the vault. But forgetting what had been expressly recommended to him, whilst he was filling his vest and bosom with gold and jewels, which this subterraneous vault inclosed in prodigious heaps, the opening by which he entered closed of itself. He had, however, presence of mind enough to seize on the iron candlestick, which the Dervise had so strongly recommended to him; and though the situation he was in was very terrible, he did not abandon himself to despair; and thinking only in what manner he should get out of a place which might become his grave, he apprehended that the vault had closed only because he had not followed the order of the Dervise; he recalled to his memory the care and goodness he had loaded him with; reproached himself with his ingratitude, and finished his meditation by humbling himself before God. At length, after much pains and inquietude, he was fortunate enough to find a narrow passage which led him out of this obscure cave; though it was not till he had followed it a considerable way, that he perceived a small opening covered with briars and thorns, through which he returned to the light of the sun. He looked on all sides, to see if he could perceive the Dervise, but in vain; he designed to deliver him the iron candlestick he so much wished for, and formed a design of quitting him, being rich enough with what he had taken out of the cavern, to live in affluence without his assistance.

Not perceiving the Dervise, nor remembering any of the places through which he had passed, he went on as fortune had directed him, and was extremely astonished to find himself opposite to his mother’s house, which he imagined he was at a great distance from him. She immediately enquired after the holy Dervise. Abdallah told her frankly what had happened to him, and the danger he had run to satisfy his unreasonable desires; he afterwards shewed her the riches with which he was loaded. His mother concluded, upon the sight of them, that the Dervise only designed to make trial of his courage and obedience, and that they ought to make use of the happiness which fortune had presented to them; adding, that doubtless such was the intention of the holy Dervise. Whilst they contemplated upon these treasures with avidity; whilst they were dazzled with the lustre of them, and formed a thousand projects in consequence of them, they all vanished away before their eyes. It was then that Abdallah sincerely reproached himself for his ingratitude and disobedience; and, perceiving that the iron candlestick had resisted the enchantment, or rather the just punishment which those deserve who do not execute what they promise, he said, prostrating himself, “What happened to me is just; I have lost what I had no design to restore, and the candlestick which I intended to deliver to the Dervise, remains with me: It is a proof that it rightly belongs to him, and that the rest was unjustly acquired.” As he finished these words, he placed the candlestick in the midst of their little house.

When the night was come, without reflecting upon it, he placed the light in the candlestick. Immediately they saw a Dervise appear, who turned round for an hour, and disappeared, after having thrown them an asper. The candlestick had twelve branches. Abdallah, who was meditating all the day upon what he had seen the night before, was willing to know what would happen the next night, if he put a light in each of them; he did so, and twelve Dervises appeared that instant; they turned round also for an hour, and each threw an asper as they disappeared. He repeated every day the same ceremony, which had always the same success; but he could never make it succeed more than once in twenty-four hours. This trifling sum was enough to make his mother and himself subsist tolerably: there was a time when they would have desired no more to be happy; but it was not considerable enough to change their fortune: it is always dangerous for the imagination to be fixed upon the idea of riches. The sight of what he believed he should possess; the projects he had formed for the employment of it; all these things had left such profound traces in the mind of Abdallah, that nothing could efface them. Therefore, seeing the small advantage he drew from the candlestick, he resolved to carry it back to the Dervise, in hopes that he might obtain of him the treasure he had seen, or at least find again the riches which had vanished from their sight, by restoring to him a thing for which he testified so earnest a desire. He was so fortunate as to remember his name, and that of the city where he inhabited. He departed, therefore, immediately for Magrebi, carrying with him his candlestick, which he lighted every night, and by that means furnished himself with what was necessary on the road, without being obliged to implore the assistance and compassion of the faithful. When he arrived at Magrebi, his first care was to enquire in what house, or in what convent, Abounadar lodged; he was so well known that every body told him his habitation. He repaired thither directly, and found fifty porters who kept the gate of his house, having each a staff with a head of gold in their hands: the court of this palace was filled with slaves and domestics; in fine, the residence of a prince could not expose to view greater magnificence. Abdallah, struck with astonishment and admiration, feared to proceed. Certainly, thought he, I either explained myself wrong, or those to whom I addressed myself designed to make a jest of me, because I was a stranger: this is not the habitation of a Dervise, it is that of a king. He was in this embarrassment when a man approached him, and said to him, “Abdallah, thou art welcome; my master, Abounadar, has long expected thee.” He then conducted him to an agreeable and magnificent pavilion, where the Dervise was seated. Abdallah, struck with the riches which he beheld on all sides, would have prostrated himself at his feet, but Abounadar prevented him, and interrupted him when he would have made a merit of the candlestick, which he presented to him. “Thou art but an ungrateful wretch,” said he to him: “Dost thou imagine that thou canst impose upon me? I am not ignorant of any one of thy thoughts; and if thou hadst known the value of this candlestick, thou would never have brought it to me: I will make thee sensible of its true use.” Immediately he placed a light in each of its branches; and when the twelve Dervises had turned round for some time, Abounadar gave each of them a blow with a cane, and in a moment they were converted into twelve sequins, diamonds, and other precious stones. “This,” said he, “is the proper use to be made of this marvellous candlestick. As to me, I never desired it, but to place it in my cabinet, as a talisman composed by a sage whom I revere, and am pleased to expose sometimes to those who come to visit me: and to prove to thee,” added he, “that curiosity was the only occasion of my search for it; here are keys of my magazines, open them, and thou shalt judge of my riches: thou shalt tell me whether the most insatiable miser would not be satisfied with them.” Abdallah obeyed him, and examined twelve magazines of great extent, so full of all manner of riches, that he could not distinguish what merited his admiration most; they all deserved it, and produced new desires. The regret of having restored the candlestick, and that of not having found out the use of it, pierced the heart of Abdallah. Abounadar seemed not to perceive it; on the contrary, he loaded him with caresses, kept him some days in the house, and commanded him to be treated as himself. When he was at the eve of the day which he had fixed for his departure, he said to him, “Abdallah, my son, I believe by what has happened to thee, thou art corrected of the frightful vice of ingratitude; however, I owe thee a mark of my affection, for having undertaken so long a journey, with a view of bringing me the thing I had desired: thou may’st depart, I shall detain thee no longer. Thou shalt find to-morrow, at the gate of my palace, one of my horses to carry thee; I make thee a present of it, as well as of a slave, who shall conduct thee to thy house; and two camels loaded with gold and jewels, which thou shalt choose thyself out of my treasures.” Abdallah said to him all that a heart sensible to avarice could express when its passion was satisfied, and went to lie down till the morning arrived, which was fixed for his departure.

During the night he was still agitated, without being able to think of any thing but the candlestick and what it produced. “I had it,” said he, “so long in my power; Abounadar, without me, had never been the possessor of it: what risks did I not run in the subterraneous vault? Why does he now possess this treasure of treasures? Because I had the probity, or rather the folly, to bring it back to him; he profits by my labour, and the danger I have incurred in so long a journey. And what does he give me in return? Two camels loaded with gold and jewels; in one moment the candlestick will furnish him with ten times as much. It is Abounadar who is ungrateful: what wrong shall I do him in taking this candlestick? None, certainly, for he is rich: and what do I possess?” These ideas determined him, at length, to make all possible attempts to seize upon the candlestick. The thing was not difficult, Abounadar having trusted him with the keys of the magazines. He knew where the candlestick was placed; he seized upon it, hid it in the bottom of one of the sacks, which he filled with pieces of gold and other riches which he was allowed to take, and loaded it, as well as the rest, upon his camels. He had no other eagerness now than for his departure; and after having hastily bid adieu to the generous Abounadar, he delivered him his keys, and departed with his horse, and slave, and two camels.

When he was some days journey from Balsora, he sold his slave, resolving not to have a witness of his former poverty, nor of the source of his present riches. He bought another, and arrived without any obstacle at his mother’s, whom he would scarcely look upon, so much was he taken up with his treasure. His first care was to place the loads of his camels, and the candlestick, in the most private part of the house; and, in his impatience to feed his eyes, with his great opulence, he placed lights immediately in the candlestick: the twelve Dervises appearing, he gave each of them a blow with a cane with all his strength, lest he should be failing in the laws of the talisman: but he had not remarked, that Abounadar, when he struck them, had the cane in his left hand. Abdallah, by a natural motion, made use of his right; and the Dervises, instead of becoming heaps of riches, immediately drew from beneath their robes each a formidable club, with which they struck him almost dead, and disappeared, carrying with them all his treasures, the camels, the horse, the slave, and the candlestick.

Thus was Abdallah punished by poverty, and almost by death, for his unreasonable ambition, which perhaps might have been pardonable, if it had not been accompanied by an ingratitude as wicked as it was audacious, since he had not so much as the resource of being able to conceal his perfidies from the too piercing eyes of his benefactor.

FINIS.

Harrild, Printer, Eastcheap.