AMORASSAN,

OR

The Spirit of the Frozen Ocean.

AN ORIENTAL ROMANCE.

"Heaven's Sovereign spares all creatures but him

self

That hideous sight, a naked human heart.”—

YOUNG.

AMORASSAN;

OR

The Spirit of the Frozen Ocean;

CHAP. I.

Still o'er these scenes my fancy wakes,.
And fondly broods with miser-care:
Time but the impression stronger makes,
As streams their channels deeper wear."

BURNS.

FROM the very depth of his soul did Muzaffer, the Grand Vizir, detest the poor wandering Hebrew, Ben Hafi. He knew well how to manage the strings of the Caliph's heart, and resolved, that not one should re-main unsounded, till the destruction of this hated stranger was accomplished. But here

for the first time he found his arts baffled; a proof, that rectitude of mind, and innate goodness of heart, are such celestial and enduring gifts, that although they may be sometimes overpowered by guile and falsehood, they can never be entirely destroyed.

The Caliph listened attentively, paused for some minutes, and then replied by the question" What harm has Ben Hafi done? whom has he injured?"

Muzaffer was of opinion, "that Ben Hafi was universally considered as a dangerous person; that there was a mystery about the man, which at the best wore a very suspicious appearance; and that although, in truth, he had as yet done no harm, perhaps, he was only waiting for an opportunity to effect his evil designs with the more security.".

THE CALIPH.

Perhaps so.... and perhaps not! Allah, who reads the hearts of Ben Hafi, of you,

and of myself, alone knows what he means to do: we, Muzaffer, will content ourselves with knowing what he has already done. Since his arrival in my dominions, no fault has been found in his conduct; if any could have been found, you, Vizir, (I am well assured) would not have failed to find it. The man is charitable, modest, wise and does not my faithful dwarf Megnoun think well of him? Ah! he, of whom my good little deaf Megnoun thinks well, can never be a worthless man! for the spirit of truth resides in the heart of Megnoun, the arrows of discernment shoot from his brilliant eyes, and therefore needs he not the sense of hearing. Allah has taken from him in one respect, but has given to him most bounteously in another. He conceives the meanings of men from their looks, from movements of their lips, to us imperceptible; he decyphers their thoughts expressed by the sinking or falling of the eye-brow, or the momentary play of the muscles of the mouth; he reads the heart