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lived to the age of sixty-three years, and another exceeded seventy.
13. The aspect of the lion corresponds with the noble and generous qualities of his mind; his figure is respectable, his looks are determined, his gait is stately, and his voice tremendous. In a word, the body of the lion appears to be the best model of strength joined to agility.
14. As a proof that he is capable of exercising a generous and friendly disposition towards mankind, we have the following anecdote of one which was kept in the tower of London.
15. When this lion was confined in the den alone, an accident happened to the lower part of it, which so impaired the wood work, that he could not be kept with safety; the carpenter was, therefore, called to repair it, who wisely stood at a distance, and would not approach the den for fear of the lion.
16, Upon this, one of the keepers stepped into the den, and engaged to keep the lion at the upper part of his house, while the carpenter was at work beneath. It happened, however, that the keeper, after playing some time with the lion, fell fast asleep.
17. The carpenter continued his work, without knowing the danger to which he was exposed; and, when he had finished his work, called to the keeper to come down and fasten the door; but received no answer.
18. He then ran out of the den, and was greatly surprised to see, through the grate, both the keeper and the lion stretched upon the floor, and sleeping together. He called to him again, but the keeper was too sound asleep to return any answer.
19. The lion, however, reared up his frightful head, and, after looking some time at the carpenter, threw his huge paw over the keeper's breast, and, laying his nose upon his head, again composed himself to rest.
20. The carpenter, already terrified with his own situation, was still more alarmed when he saw the keeper thus encircled with the paws of the lion, and ran into the house for aid.
21. Some of the people came out, and, having bolted the den door, which the carpenter had neglected in his
precipitate retreat, they roused the keeper from his sleep, who, shaking the lion by the paw, took his leave; but the lion was too well bred to suffer his friend to go without some little ceremony or marks of esteem.
22. He first rubbed his great nose against the keeper's knees, then held him by the coat, as if he would have said, "Do stay a little longer;" and, when he found that no entreaties could prevail, he courteously* waited on him to the door.
STORY OF THE GRATEFUL TURK.
IT is too much to be lamented, that different nations frequently make bloody wars with each other; and, when they take any of their enemies prisoners, instead of using them well, and restoring them to liberty, they confine them in prisons, or sell them as slaves. The enmity that there has often been between many of the Italian states, particularly the Venetians, and the Turks, is sufficiently known.
2. It once happened that a Venetian ship had taken many of the Turks prisoners, and, according to the barbarous custom I have mentioned, these unhappy men had been sold to different persons in the city. By accident, one of the slaves lived opposite to the house of a rich Venetian, who had an only son, of about the age of twelve years.
3. It happened that this little boy used frequently to stop as he passed near Hamet, for that was the name of the slave, and gaze at him very attentively. Hamet, who remarked in the face of the child the appearance of good nature and compassion, used always to salute him with the greatest courtesy,† and testified the greatest pleasure in his company.
4. At length the little boy took such a fancy to the slave, that he used to visit him several times in the day, and brought him such little presents as he had it in his power to make, and which he thought would be of use to his friend.
* Pronounced kur che-us-le. t kur te-se.
5. But though Hamet seemed always to take the greatest delight in the innocent caresses of his little friend, yet the child could not help remarking that Hamet was frequently extremely sorrowful; and he often surprised him on a sudden, when tears were trickling down his face, although he did his utmost to conceal them.
6. The little boy was at length so much affected with the repetition of this sight, that he spoke of it to his father, and begged him, if he had it in his power, to make poor Hamet happy. The father, who was extremely fond of his son, and, besides, had observed that he seldom requested any thing which was not generous and humane, determined to see the Turk himself, and talk to him.
7. Accordingly he went to him the next day, and, observing him for some time in silence, was struck with the extraordinary appearance of mildness and honesty which his countenance discovered. At length he said to him, “ Are you that Hamet of whom my son is so fond, and of whose gentleness and courtesy I have so often heard him talk?"
8. "Yes," said the Turk, "I am that unfortunate Hamet, who have now been for three years a captive: during that space of time, your son, if you are his father, is the only human being that seems to have felt any compassion for my sufferings; therefore, I must confess, he is the only object to which I am attached in this barbarous country; and night and morning I pray that Power, who is equally the God of Turks and Christians, to grant him every blessing he deserves, and to preserve him from all the miseries I suffer."
9. "Indeed, Hamet," said the merchant, "he is much obliged to you, although, from his present circumstances, he does not appear much exposed to danger. But tell me, for I wish to do you good, in what can I assist you? for my son, informs me that you are the prey of continual regret and sorrow."
10. "Is it wonderful," answered the Turk, with a glow of generous indignation that suddenly animated his countenance, "is it wonderful that I should pine in silence, and mourn my fate, who am bereft of the first and noblest present of nature, my liberty ?" "And yet," answered the Venetian, "how many thousands of our nation do you retain in fetters ?"
11. "I am not answerable," said the Turk, "for the cruelty of my countrymen, more than you are for the barbarity of yours. But, as to myself, I have never practised the inhuman custom of enslaving my fellow-creatures; I have never spoiled Venetian merchants of their property to increase my riches; I have always respected the rights of nature, and therefore it is the more severe
12. Here a tear started from his eye, and wetted his manly cheek; instantly, however, he recollected himself, and, folding his arms upon his bosom, and gently bowing his head, he added, "God is good, and man must submit to his decrees." The Venetian was affected with this appearance of manly fortitude, and said, "Hamet, I pity your sufferings, and may perhaps be able to relieve them. What would you do to regain your liberty?"
13. "What would I do?" answered Hamet; "I would confront every pain and danger that can appal* the heart of man." Nay," answered the merchant, "you will not be exposed to such a trial. The means of your deliverance are certain, provided your courage does not belie your appearance."
14. "Name them! name them!" cried the impatient Hamet; "place death before me in every horrid shape, and if I shrink
-" "Patience!" answered the merchant, "we shall be observed. But hear me attentively. I have in this city an inveterate foe, who has heaped upon me every injury which can most bitterly sting the heart of man.
15. "This foe is brave as he is haughty; and I must confess that the dread of his strength and valour has hitherto deterred me from resenting his insults as they deserve. Now, Hamet, your look, your form, your words, convince me that you are born for manly daring.
16. "Take this dagger; and, as soon as the shades of night involve the city, I will myself conduct you to the place, where you may at once revenge your friend, and regain your freedom."
17. At this proposal, scorn and shame flashed from the kindling eye of Hamet, and passion for a considerable time deprived him of the power of utterance: at length he lifted his arms as high as his chains would permit, and cried * Pronounced ap-pall'.
with an indignant tone," Mighty Prophet! and are these the wretches to which you permit your faithful votaries to be enslaved?
18. "Go, base Christian, and know that Hamet would not stoop to the vile trade of an assassin, for all the wealth of Venice! no, not to purchase the freedom of all his race!" At these words, the merchant, without seeming much abashed, told him he was sorry he had offended him; but that he thought freedom had been dearer to him than he found it was. 19. “ However," added he, as he turned his back, 'you will reflect upon my proposal, and perhaps by to-morrow you may change your mind." Hamet disdained to answer, and the merchant went his way.
20. The next day, however, he returned in company with his son, and mildly accosted Hamet thus; "The abruptness of the proposal I yesterday made you, might, perhaps, astonish you; but I am now come to discourse the matter more calinly with you, and, I doubt not, when you have heard my reasons
21. "Christian," interrupted Hamet, with a severe, but composed countenance, cease at length to insult the miserable with proposals more shocking than even these chains. If thy religion permit such acts as those, know that they are execrable and abominable to the soul of a Mahometan; therefore, from this moment, let us break off all further intercourse, and be strangers to each other."
22. "No," answered the merchant, flinging himself into the . arms of Hamet, "let us from this moment be more closely linked than ever! Generous man, whose virtues may at once disarm and enlighten thy enemies! Fondness for my son first made me interested in thy fate; but from the moment that I saw thee yesterday, I determined to set thee free. Therefore pardon me this unnecessary trial of thy virtue, which has only raised thee higher in my esteem.
23. "Francisco has a soul which is as averse to deeds of treachery and blood as even IIamet himself. From this moment, generous man, thou art free; thy ransom is already paid, with no other obligation than that of remembering the affection of this thy young and faithful friend; and perhaps, hereafter, when thou seest an unhappy Christian