Notwithstanding, however, the arguments which have been here adduced, and many others that might be added, declaring or implying the unchangeable nature of all God's decrees, I have found it to be the opinion of my own Muslim friends that God may be induced by supplication to change certain of his decrees, at least those regarding degrees of happiness or misery in this world and the next; and that such is the general opinion appears from a form of prayer which is repeated in the mosques on the eve of the middle (or fifteenth day) of the month of Shaạbán, when it is believed that such portions of God's decrees as constitute the destinies of all living creatures for the ensuing year are confirmed and fixed. In this prayer it is said, "O God, if Thou _hast recorded_ me in thy abode, upon 'the Original of the Book' [the Preserved Tablet], miserable or unfortunate or scanted in my sustenance, _cancel_, O God, of thy goodness, my misery and misfortune and scanty allowance of sustenance, and confirm me in thy abode, upon the Original of the Book, as happy and provided for and directed to good,"[9] etc. The Arabs in general constantly have recourse both to charms and medicines, not only for the cure but also for the prevention of diseases. They have, indeed, a strange passion for medicine, which shows that they do not consider fate as altogether unconditional. Nothing can exceed the earnestness with which they often press a European traveller for a dose; and the more violent the remedy, the better are they pleased. The following case will serve as an example:--Three donkey-drivers, conveying the luggage of two British travellers from Booláḳ to Cairo, opened a bottle which they observed in a basket, and finding it to contain (as they had suspected) brandy, emptied it down their throats: but he who had the last draught, on turning up the bottle, got the tail of a scorpion into his mouth; and, looking through the bottle to his great horror saw that it contained a number of these reptiles, with tarantulas, vipers, and beetles. Thinking that they had poisoned themselves, but not liking to rely upon fate, they persuaded a man to come to me for medicine. He introduced the subject by saying, "O Efendee, do an act of kindness: there are three men poisoned; in your mercy give them medicine, and save their lives:" and then he related the whole affair, without concealing the theft. I answered that they did not deserve medicine; but he urged that by giving it I should obtain an immense reward. "Yes," said I; "'he who saveth a soul alive shall be as if he had saved the lives of all mankind.'"[10] I said this to try the feeling of the applicant, who, expressing admiration of my knowledge, urged me to be quick, lest the men should die; thus showing himself to be no unconditional fatalist. I gave him three strong doses of tartar emetic; and he soon came back to thank me, saying that the medicine was most admirable, for the men had hardly swallowed it when they almost