“For some time their amour was concealed from Alraschid; but the khaliph having at length received intelligence of it, he gave way to his rage, and determined to take the most severe revenge. In consequence of this cruel resolve, he immediately commanded Jaafar to be put to death, and the whole race of Barmec to be deprived of their possessions, and thrown into prison. These orders were obeyed. Jaafer was beheaded in the antichamber of the royal apartment, whither he had come to request an interview with the implacable Haroun: and his father and brothers, perished in confinement.” The destruction of this family was looked upon as a general calamity; “all of whom,” says an Eastern writer, “enjoyed the singular felicity of being loved as much, when in the plenitude of their power, as in a private station; and of being praised as much, after their disgrace and ruin, as when they were at the summit of their prosperity.” The following verses were written on their fall: No, Barmec! time hath never shewn So sad a change of wayward fate; Nor sorrowing mortals ever known A grief so true, a loss so great. Spouse of the world! Thy soothing breast Did balm to every woe afford; And now no more by thee caress’d, The widow’d world bewails her lord. The following lines were spoken extempore by Ibrahim Ben Adham, a hermit of Syria, who was equally admired for his piety and his poetry, upon meeting Haroun Alraschid going to Mecca with a magnificent train, as Ibrahim himself was returning from his pilgrimage to that place, which he performed quite alone, and without making any provision for his journey. Religion's gems can ne'er adorn The flimsy robe by Pleasure worn, Its feeble texture soon would tear, And give those jewels to the air. Thrice happy they, who seek th’ abode Of peace and pleasure in their God! Who spurn the world, its joys despise, And grasp at bliss beyond the skies. Although the little poem, which comes next has no apparent connection with any particular part of this work, I cannot help inserting it from that beautiful vein of feeling which runs through every line. It was sung before the caliph Wathek, the grandson of Haroun Alraschid, as a specimen of the author’s talents. THE ADIEU. BY ABOU MOHAMMED. The boatmen shout, “’Tis time to part, No longer we can stay;” ’Twas then Maimuna taught my heart How much a glance could say. With trembling steps to me she came; “Farewell,” she would have cried, But ere her lips the words could frame, In half form’d sounds it died. Then bending down, with looks of love, Her arms she round me flung, And, as the gale hangs on the grove, Upon my breast she hung. My willing arms embrac'd the maid, My heart with raptures beat; While she but wept the more, and said, Would we had never met.”