'Be envious of no man, and habituate not thyself to search after the faults of others.
'Make it a habit to be happy, and avoid being out of temper, or thy life will pass in misery.
'Respect and protect the females of thy family.
'Be not the slave of anger; and in thy contests always leave open the door of conciliation.
'Never let your expenses exceed your income.
'Plant a young tree, or you cannot expect to cut down an old one.
'Stretch your legs no farther than the size of your carpet.'
"The caliph Hâroon-oor-Rasheed was more pleased with the admirable maxims inscribed on this crown than with all the treasures he had found. 'Write these precepts,' he exclaimed, 'in a book, that the faithful may eat of the fruit of wisdom.' When he returned to Bagdad, he related to his favourite vizier, Jaffier Bermekee, and his other chief officers, all that had passed: and the shade of Noosheerwân was propitiated by the disgrace of Hoosein-ben-Sâhil (who had recommended despoiling his tomb), and the exemplary punishment of the servant who had committed the sacrilegious act of taking the ring from the finger of the departed monarch."
Hâroon-oor-Rasheed, with all his fame for clemency, generosity, and justice, appears from the very pages written to raise his fame, to have had, like Shâh Abbas, his unlucky moments, when all his virtues were obscured by acts of violent and cruel injustice. Witness his putting to death the celebrated vizier, Jaffier Bermekee, and his vain efforts to rob the memory of that virtuous and great minister of his just fame.
Aga Meer related to me, after we had finished our translation, the following story, which I must add, though I hate dwelling long upon any of these eastern characters, however wonderful.
"Hâroon-oor-Rasheed," said the good Meerzâ, "when he had put to death the celebrated Jaffier Bermekee, not contented with this cruelty, wished to deprive him of those encomiums which the extraordinary virtues of that minister had merited; and he published an order making it death for any of the preachers or public speakers to mention the name of Jaffier. This did not deter an old Arab from descanting with great eloquence on the virtues of the deceased; he was warned of his danger, but despised it; and on being taken and carried to the place of execution, all he asked was to see the caliph for a few minutes. This was granted. The monarch asked him how he came to disregard his laws. 'Had I not praised Jaffier,' said the fearless Arab, 'I should have been a monster of ingratitude, and unworthy the protection of any laws.' 'Why?' said the caliph. 'I came,' replied the Arab, 'poor and friendless to Bagdad. I lodged in a ruin in the skirts of the town, where Jaffier discovered me. Pleased, as he afterwards told me, with my conversation, he paid me frequent visits. One night I was seized and hurried away I knew not whither. In the morning I found myself in a magnificent Hemmâm, and after bathing, was dressed by men in fine robes, who called themselves my slaves. I was then mounted on a horse with costly trappings, and conducted to an elegant palace, where attendants, richly attired, welcomed me as their lord. Recovered from my astonishment, I asked what all this meant. 'The habitation of a Fakeer,'[87] said I, 'suits me better than this place; not a corner of one of its saloons but is sufficient for my lodging; besides, I could not remain happy, even in paradise, if absent from my dear wife and children.' 'Your lordship's family,' said one of the servants, 'are in the inner apartments.' I was conveyed to them, and found their adventures had been similar to mine. They were surrounded by female slaves.