mains in spite of the dough-trough, provided you are When lonely German clasps an Elle-maid, And finds too late a butcher's trayWe may laugh at such horrors at this time of day, especially in England; but these darker parts of superstition are still mischievous sometimes to those who believe in them; and we have no doubt there are still believers, upon grounds which it would be found difficult to shake. To say the truth, we are among the number of those who, with all allowance for the lies that have been plentifully told on such matters, do yet believe that fairies have actually been seen ; but then it was by people whose perceptions were disturbed. It is observable that the ordinary seers have been the old, the diseased, or the intoxicated; young people's aunts, or grandfathers, or peasants going home from the ale-house. When the young see them, their minds are prepared by a firm belief in what their elders have told them; so that terrors which should pass off for nothing, on closer inspection, become a real perception with these weaker heads; the ideas impressed upon the brain taking the usual morbid stand outside of it. We have no doubt that the case is precisely the same, in its degree, with the spectral illusion of faces, and more horrid sights, experienced by opium-eaters and others, in a delicate state of health. We learn from a work of the late Mr Bingley's, that the metal known by the name of Cobalt, is so called from the German word Kobold, or Goblin, so often mentioned in this article, the miners who dig for it appearing to be particularly subject to the vexations of the elf, in consequence of the poison which his name-sake exhales.* If it should be asked how we can tell that anything which is really seen does not really exist, we answer, that such a state of existence is, at all events, not a healthy one, and therefore its perceptions are not to be taken as proper to humanity. Not to mention that spectral illusions are of no use but to terrify, and are quite as likely, and more so, to happen to the conscientious and the delicately organized and considerate, as to those whose vices might be supposed to require them. The consequence of these darker parts of the belief in fairies, is that deliriums have frequently been occasioned by them; fancied announcements and forebodings have preyed on the spirits in domestic life, and the popular mind kept in a state, which bigotry and wordliness have been enabled to turn to the worst account. But a counter-charm was nevertheless growing up in secret against the witchcrafts of imagination, by dint of imagination itself, and the readiness with which it was prepared to enter into the thoughts of others, and sympathize with the great cause of knowledge and humanity. The cure for these and a hundred evils, is not the rooting out of imagination, which would be a proceeding, in fact, as impossible as undesirable, but the cultivation of its health and its cheerfulness. Good sense and fancy need never be separated. Imagination is no enemy to experience, nor can experience draw her from her last and best holds. She stands by, willing to know everything he can discover, and able to recommend it, by charms infinite, to the good will and sentiment of all men. What has been in the world is, perhaps, the best for what is to be, none of its worst evils excepted; but found out, and known to be evils, the latter have lost even their doubtful advantages; imagination, in the finer excitements of sympathy and the beautiful creations of the poets, casts off these shades of uneasy slumber; and all that she says to knowledge is, "Discard me not, for your own sake as well as mine; lest with want of me, want of sympathy itself return, and utility be again mistaken for what it is not, as superstition has already mistaken it." The sum of our creed in these matters is this:Spectral illusion, or the actual sight of spiritual appearances takes place only with the unhealthy, and • Useful Knowledge. Vol. I. p. 229. therefore is not desirable as a general condition: but spiritual or imaginative sight is consistent with the healthiest brain, and enriches our sources of enjoyment and reflection. The three things we have to take care of, on these and all other occasions, are health, knowledge, and imagination. TABLE TALK. Admirable remark respecting the habit of expressing antipathy. When it is settled in a man's mind that such or such another is a bad man, an effect apt to be produced by such judgment is a settled affectation of antipathy; of antipathy more or less strong, according to the temper of the individual. Thereupon, without troubling himself to measure out the proper quantity of antipathy which it would be proper for him to administer, upon every opportunity that presents the means of expressing towards the offending party the affection of hatred and contempt, he accordingly employs it; and, in so doing, he piques himself upon the evidence he affords to others of his hatred of vice and love of virtue, while, in truth, he is only affording a gratification to his own dissocial and self-regarding affections, to his own antipathy and his own pride.-Bentham's Deontology, How to help the judgment of others.--In intercourse with others, it may sometimes be demanded by benevolence that their opinions should be corrected on points affecting their own happiness. In general, however, it becomes us rather to seek points of agreement than points of difference; but where points of difference are to be discussed, give the discussion the character of a joint search after truth-an inquiry by which both are to be benefitted, rather than of contention for victory, or an exhibition of dogmatism. Knowledge communicated by benevolence has the united charm of intellect and virtue, intellect engaged in clearing the ground of evil, and virtue engaged in cove. ing it with good.—Bentham's Deontology. TO IANTHE, WHO DIED YOUNG. Look down on me. From seats immortal, where thou sittest If our love thou not forgetest Look down on me. And joy'st thou at the life unliv'd, The joys unjoyed, the griefs ungriev'd, Love, smiling with broken heart, Unknown to thee. Ah! unknown the pilgrimage, From bounding childhood to tottering age, Unknown to thee. Lov'd and loving did'st thou live, Unknown to me. An angel with thy God thou art, Few years we met, for few we part, ARNOLD. TO CORRESPONDENTS. DEEPEST thanks to the Freeman's Journal and the Caledonian Mercury. We cannot express the gratitude we feel at seeing the light which we endeavour to shed on human hope and endeavour, thus caught into the hands of the best spirits of the press, and reflected with loving colours upon multitudes of new readers.—The advice given by the Caledonian Mercury is as sound as it is kindly put. We need not add, it will be taken. The point inquired about by our friend CŒLEBS was discussed a few weeks ago in the London Journal, in a number containing more than one article upon Goethe. We cannot at this moment refer to it more particularly, as we do not happen to have the Journal near us. E. D. will see, we trust, that to enter further into the matters he speaks of, would lead us into something very foreign to the objects of this paper,-controversy. It is difficult in a zealous writer to know always the exact point at which to stop, during the fervour of composition; but when he really writes in no spirit of controversy, it may be allowed him to waive the letter of it. We announced some weeks ago an intention, which would of necessity include the notice recommended by 2. The very disputable rhyme at the end of his verses, expressly doubted even by himself in a note, is a greater injury to them, we think, than he takes it for. But the harmonizing of the " peacock's scream' with the dying hour of day, is well felt; and we like the following stanzas about a clump of" Fir-trees," especially as they concern a favourite old spot of ours :- Beneath these lofty boughs of Fir To see them in the light winds move To hear their deep, rough, roaring voice, As though the rooted trees rejoice And now, when dies the evening gale, To see them droop and bend, And hoarsely murmuring seem to wail, So have we felt, in the same spot, in the company of friends when living, and at the recollection of them when dead, of friends who were fine poets and ad-, mirable men, (those he speaks of,) and who have enjoyed the place with us a hundred times, and talked in it of the pine-trees of Theocritus. We agree with A. H. C. in the question he has proposed to us respecting Poetry and Painting, &c. but Painting has its points of superiority also, though not so numerous or subtle. Its chief inferiority (divine art as it is) consists in its not being able to express idealism like Poetry, nor to make the beholder so surely partake of the artist's feeling as the reader does. We are again compelled to postpone to another week the verses of hos, and of J. D. (of Dover) with some remarks on them. Further notice to G. H. L. in our next. If E. W. R. (as we presume by a passage in his communication) is young, he promises to be an elegant writer and sound thinker; but at present he hardly knows what to omit. E. B. P. will find a right-cordial account of Christ's Hospital and its worthies, when we come to that quarter in our Supplement. Any memorandum which it might please him to furnish us, would be very acceptable, C. C. C.'s communication next week. Mr J. W. is very kind and considerate. We had received his communication, and intended to notice it sooner; but it accidentally escaped us. If he (and Mr J. W. M.) will have the goodness to look at the answers to G. B. and J. M. C. in our last week's Notice to Correspondents, they will understand what is implied in them. LONDON: Published by H. HOOPER, 13, Pall Mall East. From the Steam-Press of C. & W. REYNELL, Little Pulteney-street. LONDON JOURNAL. TO ASSIST THE ENQUIRING, ANIMATE THE STRUGGLING, AND SYMPATHIZE WITH ALL. WEDNESDAY, OCT. 22, 1834. GENII AND FAIRIES OF THE EAST, THE ARABIAN NIGHTS, &c. HAIL, gorgeous East! Hail, regions of the coloured morning! Hail, Araby and Persia!—not the Araby and Persia of the geographer, dull to the dull, and governed by the foolish,-but the Araby and Persia of books, of the other and more real East, which thousands visit every day-the Orient of poets, the magic land of the child, the uneffaceable recollection of the man. To us, the Arabian Nights are one of the most beautiful books in the world: not because there is nothing but pleasure in it, but because the pain has infinite chances of vicissitude, and because the pleasure is within the reach of all who have body and soul, and imagination. The poor man there sleeps in a door-way with his love, and is richer than a king. The Sultan is dethroned to-morrow, and has a finer throne the next day. The pauper touches a ring, and spirits wait upon him. You ride in the air; you are rich in solitudes; you long for somebody to return your love, and an Eden encloses you in its arms. You have this world, and you have another. Fairies are in your moon-light. Hope and imagination have their fair play, as well as the rest of us. There is action heroical, and passion too: people can suffer, as well as enjoy, for love; you have bravery, luxury, fortitude, self-devotion, comedy as good as Moliere's, tragedy, Eastern manners, the wonderful that is in a common-place, and the verisimilitude that is in the wonderful calendars, cadis, robbers, enchanted palaces, paintings full of colour and drapery, warmth for the senses, desert in arms and exercises to keep it manly, cautions to the rich, humanity for the more happy, and hope for the miserable. Whenever we see the Arabian Nights they strike a light upon our thoughts, as though they were a talisman encrusted with gems; and we fancy we have only to open the book for the magic casket to expand, and enclose us with solitude and a garden. This wonderful work is still better for the West than for the East; because it is a thing remoter, with none of our common-places; and because, our real opinions not being concerned in it, we have all the benefit of its genius without being endangered by its prejudices. The utility of a work of imagination indeed must outweigh the drawbacks upon it in any country. It makes people go out of themselves, even in pursuit of their own good; and is thus opposed to the worst kind of selfishness. These stories of vicissitude and natural justice must do good even to Sultans, and help to keep them in order, though it is doubtful how far they may not also serve to keep them in possession. With us, the good is unequivocal. The cultivation of hope comes in aid of the progress of society; and he may safely retreat into the luxuries and rewards of the perusal of an Eastern tale, whom its passion for the beautiful helps to keep in heart with his species, and by whom the behaviour of its arbitrary kings is seen in all its regal absurdity, as well as its human excuses. Like all matters on which the poets have exercised their fancy, the opinions respecting the nature of the supernatural beings of the East have been rendered inconsistent, even among the best authorities. Sir John Malcolm says that Deev means a Magician, Frem the Steam-Press of C. & W. REYNELL, Little Pulteney-street.] No. 30. whereas, in the Persian Dictionary of Richardson, it is rendered Spirit and Giant; by custom, a Devil : and Sir John uses it, in the same sense in general. D'Herbelot uses it in the sense of Dæmon, and yet in his article on Solomon it is opposed to it, or simply means Giant. Richardson tells us, that Peri means a beautiful creature of no sex; whereas, according to Sir William Ouseley, it is always female; and Richardson himself gives us to understand as much another time. Upon the whole, we think the following may be taken as the ordinary opinion, especially among authors of the greatest taste and genius. The Persians (for all these supernatural tales originated with the Persians, Indians, and Chaldeans, and not with the Arabs, except in as far as the latter became united with the Persians) are of opinion, that many kings reigned, and many races of creatures existed, before the time of Adam. The geologists ought to have a regard for this notion, which has an air of old knowledge beyond ours, and falls in with what has been conjectured respecting the diluvial strata. According to the Persians, a time may have existed, when mammoths, not men, were lords of the creation; when a gigantic half-human phenomenon of a beast put his crown on with what was only a hand by courtesy; and elephants and leviathans conversed under a sky in which it was always twilight. Very grand fictions might be founded on imaginations of this sort;—a Præ-adamite epic: and knowledge and sensibility might be represented as gradually displacing successive states of beings, till man and woman rose with the full orb of the morning,-themselves to be displaced by a finer stock, if the efforts of cultivation cannot persuade them to be the stock themselves. The race immediately preceding that of human kind resembled them partly in appearance, but were of gigantic stature, various-headed, and were composed of the element of fire. These were the Genii, Deevs, or race of Gigantic Spirits, (the Jann or Jinn of the Arabs,-Pers. Jannian or Jinniàn†) They lived three thousand years each, and had many contests with other spirits, of whose nature we are left in the dark; but the heavens appear to have warred with them, among other enemies. A dynasty of forty, or according to others of seventy-two Solomons, reigned over them in succession, the last of whom was the renowned Soliman Jan-ben-Jan. His buckler, says D'Herbelot, is as famous among the Orientals, as that of Achilles among the Greeks. He • Giafar the Just, sixth Imam, or Pontiff of the Mussulmans, was of opinion, that there had been three Adams before the one mentioned in Scripture, and that there were to be seventeen more.-D'Herbelot, in the article 'Giafar' + Pronounced Jaun and Jinniaun. So Ispahaùn, Goolistaun, &c. It is a pleasure, we think, to know how to pronounce these Eastern words, and therefore we give the reader the benefit of our A B C learning. There is a couplet in Sir William Ouseley's Travels which haunted us for a month, purely because we had found out how to pronounce it, and liked the spirit of it. We repeat it from memory Haun sheer khaùn! Belkeh sheer dendaùn! (Written-Han shir khan Belkeh shir dendan.) -The real spelling ought to be kept, for many reasons; but it is agreeable to find out the sound. The above couplet was an extempore of a Persian boy at an inn, who was struck with the dandy assumptions and enormous appetite of a native gentleman of the party. This person had been commissioned to show Sir William the country, and uron the strength of his having the name of Khan (as if one of us were a Mr Lord) gave himself the airs of the title. The jest of the little mimic (who gives us an advantageous idea of the Persian vivacity) would run something in this way in English, a lion being a common term of exaltation: A lion-lord, indeed! You may know him by his feed. PRICE THREE HALFPence. possessed, also, in common with other Solimans, the cuirass called the Gebeh, and the Tig-atesch, or Smouldering Sword, which rendered them invisible in their wars with the demons. In his time the race had become so proud and so incorrigible to the various lessons given to them and their ancestors from above, that heaven sent down the angel Hareth to reduce them to obedience. Hareth did his work, and took the government of the world into his hands, but became so proud in his turn, that the deity in order to punish him created a new species of beings to possess the earth, and bade the angels fall down and worship it. Hareth refused, as being of a nobler nature, and was thrust, together with the chiefs of those who adhered to him, into hell, the whole race of the Genii being disinissed at the same time into the mountains of Kaf, and man left in possession of his inheritance. The Genii however did not leave him alone. They made war upon him occasionally till the time of the greatest of all the Solimans, Soliman ben Daoud (Solomon the son of David) who having finally conquered and driven them back, was allowed to retain power over them, to give peace of mind to such as had yielded in good time, and to compel the rest to succumb to him whenever he thought fit, as angels overcame the devils. These last are the rebellious Genii of the Arabian Nights. They are the Deers, in the diabolical and now the only sense of the word,— Deev signifying a Gigantic Evil Spirit; and are all monsters, more or less, and generally black; though the most famous of them is the Deer- Sifeed, or Great White Devil, whose conquest was the crowning glory of Rustam, the Eastern Hercules. They appear to be of different classes, and to have different names, except the latter be provincial. Some are called Ishreels, others Afreets, and another is our old acquaintance the Goule (pronounced Ghool). They are permitted to wander from Kaf, and roam about the world "as a security," says Richardson, “for the future obedience of man." They tempt and do mischief in the style of the Western Devil, the lowest of them infesting old buildings, haunting church-yards, and feeding on dead bodies. The reader will recollect the lady who supped with one of them, and who used to pick rice with a bodkin. These are the Ghools above mentioned (Ghul is the spelling). They sometimes inhabit waste places, moaning in the wind, and waylaying the traveller. A Deev is generally painted with horns, tails, and saucer eyes, tike our devil; but an author now and then lavishes on a description of him all the fondness of his antipathy. The following is a powerful portrait of one of them called an A reet, in the Bahar Danush, or Garden of Knowledge (translated from the Persian by Mr Gl win):On his entrance, h be held a 八k heaped on the ground like a moun large horns on his head, and a long asleep. In his head the Divine Cr the likenesses of the ele hant and th ceth grew out like the sk of th over his "onstrous ca S ng tose of the ear. The eve of the d med at his appeara and th rible form and frighte! tru æmon, with two bosis, fast bai joined His and all ike lor was at his hor foot by No Crooked-backed and crab-faced; he might be scented at the distance of a thousand furlongs. His nostrils were like the ovens of brick-burners, and his mouth resembled the vat of a dyer. When his breath came forth, from its vehemence the dust rose up as in a whirl-wind, so as to leave a chasm in the earth; and when he drew it in, chaff, sand, and pebbles, from the distance of some yards were attracted to his nostrils. come frightfully, as well as against the grainin elaps of thunder and with severe faces. Furthermore, they have a taste for deformity, if we are to judge from the description of Pari Banou's brother. He was not above a foot and a half high, had a board thirty feet long, and carried upon his shoulders a bar of iron of five hundred weight, which he used as a quarter-staff. But we will indulge ourSome of these wanderers about the world appear selves (and we hope the reader) with an extract about him. Prince Ahmed, who has had the good luck to marry the gentle Pari, which has excited a great deal of jealousy and a wish to destroy him, is nevertheless to be of a milder nature than others, and undertake to be amiable on the subject of love and beauty though this indeed is a mansuetude of which most devils are rendered capable. In the story of Prince Camaralzaman and the Princess of China, a "cursed Genie" makes common cause with a good Fairy in behalf of the two lovers. The Fairy makes no scruple of chatting and comparing notes with him on their beauty, at the same time addressing him by his title of "cursed," and wondering how he can have the face to differ with her. The devil, on the other hand, is very polite, calling her his "dear lady" and "agreeable Maimoune," and tremblingly exacting from her a promise to do him no harm, in return for his telling her no lies. The question demands an umpire; and, at a stamp of Maimoune's foot, out comes from the earth "a hideous, hump-backed, squinting and lame Genie, with six horns on his head, and claws on his hands and feet." Caschcasch (this new monster) behaves like a well-bred arbiter; and the Fairy thanks him for his trouble. In the Arabian Tales, or Sequel to the Arabian Nights,* is an evil Genius resembling the Asmodeus of the Devil on Two Sticks. Asmodeus is evidently Eastern, the Asmadai of the Paradise Lost. There is a world of literature in the East, of which we possess but a little corner; though, indeed, that corner is exquisite, and probably the finest of all.† So much for the rebellious or evil Jinn. The Jinns obedient seldom make their appearance in a male shape, the Orientals, with singular gallantry of imagination, almost always making them females, as we shall see presently. The best of the males are of equivocal character, and retain much of the fiery and capricious natures of the Genii of old. They may be good and kind enough, if they have their way but do not willingly come in contact with men, except to carry off their wives or daughters; still resenting, it would seem, the ascendancy of human kind, and choosing to serve their own princes and Genii, rather than be compelled to appear before masters of an inferior species, for magicians have power over them, as our astrologers had over the spirits of Plato and the Cabala. They * The Arabian Tales are unquestionably of genuine Eastern ground-work, and amidst a great deal of pantomimic extravagance, far inferior to the Nights, have some capital stories. Il Bondocani, for instance, and Maugraby. But till we have the express authority of a scholar to the contrary, it is difficult to say, that a French hand has not inferfered in it, beyond what is stated by the translator of the reformed edition. There are fine things in the story of Maugraby. + Doubts have been gratuitously and not very modestly expressed of the value of the celebrated Eastern poets; but surely a few names could not have risen eminently above myriads of others, and become the delight and reverence of nations, without possessing something in common with the great attractions of humanity in all coun requested by his father (into whose dull head the It is my brother, Schaibar, said the Fairy; he and consider him as my nearest relation. The Fairy ordered a gold chafing-dish, with fire in it, to be set under the porch of her palace, with a box of the same metal, which was a present to her, out of which taking some incense, and throwing it into the fire, there arose a thick smoke. Some moments after, the Fairy said to Prince Ahmed, Prince, there comes my brother, do you perceived Schaibar, who was but a foot and a half see him? do you see him? The Prince immediately high, coming gravely with his bar on his shoulder; his beard, thirty feet long, which supported itself before him, and a pair of thick mustachios in proportion, tucked up to his ears, and almost covering his face. His eyes were very small, like a pig's, and deep sunk in his head, which was of enormous size, and on which he wore a pointed cap; besides all this, he had a hump behind and before. If Prince Ahmed had not known that Schaibar was Pari Banou's brother, he would not have been able to look at him without fear; but knowing who he was, he waited for him with the Fairy, and received him without the least concern. Schaibar, as he came forwards, looked at the At these words, Schaibar, looking on Prince tries. Sir John Malcolm pronounces Ferdoosi, the epic poet prise equally unexpected and satisfactory), is a good of Persia, to be a great and pathetic genius; and he gives Genius, and yet but a grim sort of personage. Our Zeyn, Prince of Balsora, is in search of a ninth original simplicity, but it is well done, and fit to remember. queathed to him by his father. [Agreeably to a It is upon crushing an insect. Ah! spare yon emmet, rich in hoarded grain : He lives with pleasure, and he dies with pain. Do the gratuitous critics recollect, that the stories of Ruth and Joseph, and the sublime book of Job, are from the East? or that the religion of simplicity itself comes from that quarter? the religion that set children on its knee, and bade the orthodox Pharisee retire? It appears to us, highly probable, that even our Eastern scholars are liable to be mistaken respecting the pompous languageof the Orientals. We talk of their high-flown metaphors, and eternal substitution of images for words; but how far would not our own language be liable to similar misconception, if translated in the same literal spirit? What should we think of Persians, who instead of overlooking the every day nature of our colloquial imagery should arrest it at every turn, and wonder how we can talk of standing in other people's shoes, taking false steps, throwing light on a subject, stopping the mouths of our enemies, &c.? There are bad and florid writers in all countries, perhaps more in Persia, because the people there are more fervent; but we should judge of a literature by its best specimens, not its worst. direction found by him among the statues, he seeks Then the Prince and he performed the ablution of we return. Then he said to Zeyn, Now, sir, let us go on by ourselves. We are near the dreadful place where the ninth statue is kept; you will stand in need of all your courage. They soon came to a lake: Morabec sat down on the brink of it, saying to the Prince, We must cross this sea How can we cross it, said Zeyn, when we have no boat? You will see one in a moment, replied Morabee; the enchanted boat of the king of the Genii will come for us. But do not forget what I am going to say to you; you must observe a profound silence; do not speak to the boatman, though his figure seem never so strange to you; whatsoever extraordinary circumstance you hand, that if you utter the least word when we are may observe, say nothing; for I tell you before embarked, the boat will sink down. I shall take care to hold my peace, said the Prince, you need only tell me what to do, and I will strictly observe it. While they were talking, he espied on a sudden a boat in the lake and it was made of red sandal wood. It had a mast of fine amber, and a blue satin flag: there was only one boatman in it, whose head was like an elephant's, and his body like a tiger's. When the boat was come up to the Prince and Morabec, the monstrous boatman took them up one after the other with his trunk, and put them into his boat, and carried them over the lake in a moment. He then again took them up with his trunk, set them on shore and immediately vanished with his boat. Now we may talk, said Morabec: the island we are on belongs to the King of the Genii; there are no more such in the world. Look round you, certainly a lovely representation of the charming Prince; can there be a more delightful place? It is place God has appointed for the faithful observers of our law. Behold the fields, adorned with all sorts of flowers and odoriferous plants; admire these beautiful trees, whose delicious fruit makes the branches bend down to the ground; enjoy the pleasures of these harmonious songs formed in the air, by a thousand birds of as many various sorts, unknown in other countries. Zeyn could not sufficiently admire something new as he advanced farther into the those with which he was surrounded, and still found island. At length they came to a palace made of fine whereof, at certain distances, were planted such tall emeralds, encompassed with a ditch, on the banks trees, that they shaded the whole palace. Before the gate, which was of massy gold, was a bridge, made of one single shell of a fish, though it was at least six fathoms long, and three in breadth. At the head of the bridge stood a company of Genii, of a prodigious height, who guarded the entrance into the castle with great clubs of China steel. Let us go no farther, said Morabec; these Genii will knock us down: and in order to prevent their coming to us, we must perform a magical ceremony. He then drew out of a purse he had under his garment four long slips of yellow taffety; one he put about his middle, and laid the other on his back, giving the other two to the Prince, who did the like. Then Morabec laid on the ground two large table cloths, on the edges whereof he scattered some precious stones, musk, and amber. Then he sat down on one of these cloths, and Zeyn on the other; You must say to him, Sovereign Lord of the Genii, my father angel of death; I wish your Majesty may protect who was your servant has been taken away by the me as you always did my father. If the King of the Genii, added Morabec, ask you what favour you desire of him, you must answer, Sir, I most humbly beg of you to give me the ninth statue. Morabec having thus instructed Zeyn, began his conjurations. Immediately their eyes were dazzled with a long flash of lightning, which was followed The whole island was covered by a clap of thunder. with a thick darkness; a furious storm of wind blew, a dreadful cry was heard, the island felt a shock, and there was such an earthquake as that which Asrayel is to cause on the day of judgment. Zeyn was startled, and began to look upon that better than he what to think of it, began to smile, noise as a very ill omen; when Morabec, who knew and said, take courage, my Prince, all goes well. In short, that very moment the King of the Genii appeared in the shape of a handsome man, yet there was something of a sternness in his air. The King promises to comply with the Prince's request, but upon one condition-that he shall bring him a damsel of fifteen, a virgin, beautiful and per fectly chaste, and that her conductor shall behave himself on the road with perfect propriety towards her, both in deed and thought. "Zeyn," says the story, "took the rash oath that was required of him;" but naturally asks how he is to be sure of the lady? The Genius gives him a looking-glass, on which she is to breathe, and which will be sullied or unsullied accordingly. The consequences among the ladies are such as Western romancers have told in a similar way; but at length success crowns the Prince's endeavours, and he conducts the Genius's damsel to the enchanted island, not without falling in love, and being tempted to break his word and carry her away to Balsora. The King is pleased with his self-denial, and tells him that on his return home he will find the statue. He goes, and on the pedestal where it was to have stood, finds the lady! ticular sort of fancy as they have of lilac or roses; Thus out of similar grounds of feeling may issue the roots of the same words. It is curious that Jinn, Jinnian, and Geni-us, should so resemble one another; for us is only the nominative termination of the Latin word, and has nothing to do with the root of it. The Eastern word Pari, and our Fairy, are still more nearly allied, especially by the Arabic pronun ciation, which changes Pinto F. It has been justly argued, that Fairy is but a modern word, and meant formerly the region in which the Fay lived, and not the inhabitant. This is true; but the root may still be the same, and the Italian word Fata, from which it has been reasonably derived, says nothing to the The behaviour of the lady is in very good taste, contrary, but the reverse; for tu or tum is but a vaand completes the charm of the discovery. Prince, said the young maid, you are surprised to see me here: you expected to have found something more precious than me, and I question not but that you now repent having taken so much trouble: you expected a better reward. Madam, answered Zeyn, heaven is my witness that I more than once was like to have broken my word with the King of the Genii, to keep you to myself. Whatsoever be the value of a diamond statue, is it worthy the satisfaction of enjoying you? I love you above all the diamonds and wealth in the world. All this to us is extremely delightful. We can say with the greatest truth, that at the age of fifty we repeat these passages with a pleasure little short of what we experienced at fifteen. We even doubt whether it is less. We come round to the same delight by another road. The Genius is as grand to us, if not so frightful as of old; the boatman as peculiar; and the lady as charming. Such ladies may really be found on pedestals, for aught we know, in another life (one life out of a million). In short, we refuse to be a bit older than we were, having, in fact, lived such a little while, and the youth of eternity being before us. So now, in youth and good faith, to come to our last and best Genius, the Peri! We call her so from custom, but Pari is the proper word; and in the story above-mentioned, it is so spelt. We shall here observe, that the French have often misled us by their mode of spelling Eastern words. The translation of the Arabian Nights (which came to us through the French) has palmed upon our childhood the Genie, or French word, for the Genius of the Latins, instead of the proper word Jinn. The French pronunciation of Peri is Pari; and in Richardson's Dictionary the latter is the spelling. It would have looked affected, some years ago, to write Pari for Peri; though, in the story just alluded to, an exception is made in favour of it: but in these times, when the growth of general learning has rendered such knowledge common, and when Boccaccio has got rid among us of his old French misnomer of Boccace (which a friend of ours very properly called Book-case), we might as well write Pari and Jinn, instead of Peri and Genie, loth, as we confess we are, to give up the latter barbarism-the belief of our childhood. But, somehow, love truth when we can get it, fond as we are any of fiction. we Pari then, in future, we will venture to write it, and Jinn shall be said instead of Genie or even Genius; with which it is said to have nothing to do. This may be true; and yet it is curious to see the coincidence between the words, and for our part we art not sure, if the etymology could be well traced, that something in common might not be found between the words, as well as the things. There might have been no collusion between the countries, and yet a similarity of sound might have risen out of the same ideas. This circumstance in the philosophy of the human history is, we think, not sufficiently attended to on many occasions. Fictions, for example, of all sorts have been traced to this and that country, as if what gave rise to them with one people might not have produced them out of the same ehances and faculties with another; obvious mixtures and modifications may be allowed, and yet every national mind throw up its own fancies, as well as the soil its own flowers. The Persians may have a par riety of inflection. Fata is the Latin Fatum, or Fate, whence come the words Fatua, Fauna, and Fanum; words implying something spoken or said, Aery tongues that syllable men's names. Fari is the Latin to speak. All these words come from the Greek Phaton, Phatis, Phao, to say, which signifies also to express, to bring to light, and to appear; and Phaos signifies light. Here is the union of speech and appearance, and thus from the single root Pha or Fay may have originated the words Peri or Fari, the English Fairy, the old English Fay, which is the Fée of our neighbours, the Latin Fatum or Fate, even the Parca (another Latin word for the Fates), the Greek Phatis, the old Persian Ferooer (a soul, a blessed spirit, which is the etymology of the author of the Fairy Mythology'), and the word. Fable itself, together with Fancy, Fair, Famous, and what not. We do not wish to lay more stress on this matter than it is worth. There is no end to probabilities, and anything may be deduced from anything else. Horne Tooke derived King Pepin from the Greek pronoun Osper, and King Jeremiah from pickled cucumber,* -a sort of sport which we recommend as an addition to the stock at Christmas. But the extremes of probability have their use as well as abuse. The spirit of words, truly studied, involves a deep philosophy and important consequences; and anything is good which tends to make out a common case for mankind. Pari is the female Genius, beautiful and beneficent. D'Herbelot says there are male Paries, and he gives the names of two of them, Dal Peri and Milan Schah Peri, who were brothers of Merjan Peri, supposed to be the same as the Western Fairy, Morgana. The truth seems to be, that originally the Paries were of no sex: the poets first distinguished them into male and female; and their exceeding beauty at last confined them to the female kind. We doubt, after all that we see in the writings of Sir William Ousely and others, whether any poet, Western or Eastern, would now talk of a male Pari. At any rate, it would appear as absurd to us of the West, as if any body were to discover that the three Graces were not all female. The Pari is the female Fairy, the lady of the solitudes, the fair enchantress who enamours all who 'behold her, and is mightily inclined to be enamoured herself, but also to be constant as well as kind. She is the being "that youthful poets dream of when they love." She includes the magic of the enchantress, the supernaturalness of the fairy, the beauty of the angel, and the loveability of the woman; in short, is the perfection of female sweetness.† Pari has been derived from a word meaning winged, and from another signifying beauty. But enough has been said on this point. We are not aware of any story in which Paries are represented with wings: but they have the power of flight. In As thus, Osper, eper, oper,-diaper, napkin, pipkin, pippin-king, King!Pepin." And going the reverse way," King Jeremiah, Jeremiah King, jerkin, girkin, pickled cucumber." Fohi and Noah, says Goldsmith, are evidently the same; for change Fo into No, and Hi into Ah, and there you have it. Pari peyker, Pari-cheker, Pari-rokhsar Pari-roy, are Where we say angel-faced, the Persians say Pari-faced. justly supposed to be the Pari-zade, or Pari-born, of the all terms to that effect. The Parysatis of the Greeks is Persians. an Eastern poem mentioned by D'Herbelot, the evil Jinns in their war with the good take some Paries captive, and hang them up in cages, in the highest trees they can find. Here they are from time to time visited by their companions, who bring them precious odours, which serve a double purpose; for the Paries not only feed upon odours, but are preserved by them from the approach of the Deevs, to whom a sweet scent is intolerable. Perfume gives an evil spirit a melancholy more than he is in the habit of enduring; he suffers, because there is a taste of heaven in it. It is beautiful to fancy the Paries among the tops of the trees, bearing their imprisonment with a sweet patience, and watching for their companions. Now and then comes a flight of these human doves, gleaming out of the foliage; or some good Genius of the other sex dares a peril in behalf of his Pari love, and turns her patience into joy. Paries feeds upon odours; but if we are to judge from our sweet acquaintance, Pari Banou, they are not incapable of sitting down to dinner with an earthly lover. The gods lived upon odours, but they had wine in heaven, nectar and ambrosia, and further more could eat beef and pudding, when they looked in upon their friends on earth,-see the story of Baucis and Philemon, of Lycaon, Tantalus, &c. It is true, Prince Ahmed was helped by his fair hostess to delicious meats, which he had never before heard of, odours perhaps taking the shape of venison or pilau ; but he found the same excellence in the wines, and the Fairy partook both of those and the dessert, which consisted of the choicest sweetmeats and fruits. The reader will allow us to read over with him the part of the story thereabouts. Such quarters of an hour are not to be had always, especially in good company; and we presume all the readers of this Journal are well met, and of good faith. If any one of a different sort trespasses on our premises, and does not see the beauties we deal with, all we can say is, that he is in the usual condition of those profane persons who are punished when they venture into Fairy-land, by that very inability of sight, which he, poor fellow, would fain consider a mark of his discernment.-So now to our dinner with a Fairy. The reader will recollect, that Prince Ahmed sho an arrow a great way among some rocks, and, upon finding it, was astonished to see how far it had gone. The arrow was also lying flat, which looked as if it had rebounded from one of the rocks. This increased his surprise, and made him think there was some mystery in the circumstance. On looking about, he discovered an iron door. He pushed it open, and went down a passage in the earth. sudden, "a different light succeeded to that which he came out of;" he entered a square, and perceived a magnificent palace, out of which a lady of exceeding beauty made her appearance at the door, attended by a troop of others. On a As soon as Prince Ahmed perceived the lady, he hastened to pay his respects; and the lady on her Addresspart, seeing him coming, prevented him. ing her discourse to him first, and raising her voice, she said to him, Come near, Prince Ahmed; you are welcome. It was no small surprise to the Prince to hear himself named in a palace he never heard of, though so nigh his father's capital; and he could not comprehend how he should be known to a lady who was a stranger to him. By the way, who knows what our geologists may come to, provided they dig far enough, and are worthy? Strange things are surmised of the interior of the earth; and Burnet now-a-days would have rubbed his hands to think what phenomenon may turn up." After the proper interchanging of amenities on either side, the Prince is led into a hall, over which He is seated on a is a dome of gold and onyx. sofa; the lady seats herself by him, and addresses The author of the Sacred Theory of the Earth,'-a book as good as a romance, and containing passages of great beauty. We speak of the Latin original. Burnet somewhere has expressed a desire to know more about Satan,what he is doing at present, and how he lives. There is a subterraneous Fairy-land, to which King Arthur is supposed to have been withdrawn, and whence he is expected to come again and re-establish his throne. Milton has a fine allusion to this circumstance in his Latin poem Mansus,' v. 81. A poetical traveller in Wales might look at the mouth of a cavern, and expect to see the great King with his chivalry coming up, blowing the trumpets into the day-light. him in the following words: You are surprised, you say, that I should know you and not be known by you; but you will be no longer surprised when I inform you who I am. You cannot be ignorant that your religion teaches you to believe that the world is inhabited by Genii as well as men; I am the daughter of one of the most powerful and distinguished of these Genii, and my name is Pari Banou; therefore you ought not to wonder that I know you, the sultan your father, and the Princess Nouronnihar. I am no stranger to your loves or your travels, of which I could tell you all the circumstances, since it was I myself who exposed to sale the artificial apple which you bought at Samarcande, the carpet which Prince Houssain met with at Bisnagar, and the tube which Prince Ali brought from Schiraz. This is sufficient to let you know that I am not unacquainted with anything that relates to you. The only thing I have to add is, that you seemed to me worthy of a more happy fate than that of possessing the Princess Nouronnihar; and, that you might attain to it, I was present when you drew your arrow, and foresaw it would not go beyond Prince Houssain's. I took it in the air, and gave it the necessary motion, to strike against the rocks near which you found it. It is in your power to avail yourself of the favourable opportunity which it presents to make you happy. As the Fairy, Pari Banou, pronounced these last words with a different tone, and looked at the same time tenderly on Prince Ahmed, with downcast eyes and a modest blush on her cheeks, it was not difficult for the Prince to comprehend what happiness she meant. He pre sently considered that the Princess Nouronnihar could never be his, and that the Fairy, Pari Banou, excelled her infinitely in beauty, attractions, agreeableness, transcendant wit, and, as far as he could conjecture by the magnificence of the palace where she resided, in immense riches. He blessed the moment that he thought of seeking after his arrow a second time, and yielding to his inclination, which drew him towards the new object which had fired his heart, Madam, replied he, should I, all my life, have had the happiness of being your slave, and the admirer of the many charms which ravish my soul, I should think myself the happiest of men. Pardon me the boldness which inspires me to ask you this favour, and do not refuse to admit into your court a Prince who is entirely devoted to you. Prince, answered the Fairy, as I have been a long time my own mistress, and have no dependence on my parents' consent, it is not as a slave I would admit you into my court, but as master of my person, and all that belongs to me, by pledging your faith to me, and taking me to be your wife. I hope you will not take it amiss that I anticipate you in making this proposal. I am as I said, mistress of my will; and must add, that the same customs are not observed among Fairies as among other ladies, in whom it would not have been decent to have made such advances: but it is what we do; we suppose we confer obligation by it. Prince Ahmed made no answer to this discourse, but was so penetrated with gratitude, that he thought he could not express it better than by coming to kiss the hem of her garment, which she would not give him time to do, but presented her hand, which he kissed a thousand times, and kept fast locked in his. Well, Prince Ahmed, said she, will you not pledge your faith to me, as I do mine to you? Yes, madam, replied the Prince, in an ecstacy of joy, what can I do better, and with greater pleasure? Yes, my sultaness, my queen, I will give it you with my heart, without the least reserve.Then, answered the Fairy, you are my husband, and I am your wife. Our marriages are contracted with no other ceremonies, and yet are more firm and indissoluble than those among men, with all their formalities. But as I suppose, pursued she, that you have eaten nothing to-day, a slight repast shall be served up for you while preparations are making for our nuptial-feast this evening, and then I will show you the apartments of my palace, and you shall judge if this hall is the smallest part of it. Some of the Fairy's women who came into the hall with them, and guessed her intention, went immediately out, and returned presently with some excellent meats and wines. When the Prince had eaten and drank as much as he cared for, the Fairy, Pari Banou, carried him through all the apartments, where he saw diamonds, rubies, emeralds, and all sorts of fine jewels, intermixed with pearls, agate, jasper, porphyry, and all kinds of the most precious marbles; not to mention the richness of the furniture, which was inestimable; the whole disposed with such profusion, that the Prince, instead of ever having seen anything like it, acknowledged that there could not be anything in the world that could come up to it. Prince, said the Fairy, if you admire my palace so much, which is indeed very beautiful, what would you say to the palaces of the chief of our Genii, which are much more beautiful, spacious, and magnificent? I could also charm you with my garden; but we will leave that till another time. Night draws near, and it will be time to go to supper. The next hall which the Fairy led the Prince into, and where the cloth was laid for the feast, was the only apartment the Prince had not seen, and it was not in the least inferior to the others. At his entrance into it he admired the infinite number of wax candles, perfumed with amber, the multitude of which, instead of being confused, were placed with so just a symmetry, as formed an agreeable and pleasant sight. A large beaufet was set out with all sorts of gold plate, so finely wrought, that the workmanship was much more valuable than the weight of the gold. Several chorusses of beautiful women richly dressed, and whose voices were ravishing, began a concert, accompanied with all kinds of the most harmonious instruments he had ever heard. When they were set down to table, the Fairy, Pari Banou, took care to help Prince Ahmed to the most delicious meats, which she named as she invited him to eat of them, and which the Prince had never heard of, but found so exquisite and nice, that he commended them in the highest terms, crying, that the entertainment which she gave him far surpassed those among men. He found also the same excellence in the wines, which neither he nor the Fairy tasted till the desert was served up, which consisted of the choicest sweetmeats and fruits. After the desert, the Fairy, Pari Banou, and Prince Ahmed, rose from the table, which was immediately carried away, and sat on a sofa, at their ease, with cushions of fine silk, curiously embroidered with all sorts of large flowers, laid at their backs. Presently after, a great number of Genii and Fairies danced before them to the door of the chamber where the nuptial bed was made, and when they came there, they divided themselves into two rows, to let them pass, and after that retired, leaving them to go to bed. The nuptial feast was continued the next day; or rather the days following the celebration were a continual feast, which the Fairy, Pari Banou, who could do it with the utmost ease, knew how to diversify, by new dishes, new meats, new concerts, new dances, new shows, and new diversions; which were all so extraordinary, that Prince Ahmed, if he had lived a thousand years among men, could not have imagined. The Fairy's intention was not only to give the Prince essential proofs of the sincerity of her love, and the violence of her passion, by so many ways; but to let him see, that as he had no pretensions at his father's court, he could meet with nothing comparable to the happiness he enjoyed with her, independent of her beauty and her charms, and to attach him entirely to herself, that he might never leave her. In this scheme she succeeded so well, that Prince Ahmed's passion was not in the least diminished by possession; but increased so much, that, if he had been so inclined, it was not in his power to forbear loving her. This is a pretty satisfaction to the imagination. And good only can come of it. They are under a great mistake who think that romances and pictures of perfection do harm. They may produce mounting impatience and partial neglect of duties here and there; but in the sum total they give a distaste to the sordid, elevate our anger above trifles, incline us to assist intellectual advancement of all sorts, and keep a region of solitude and sweetness for us in which the mind may retreat and recreate itself, so as to return with hope and gracefulness to its labours. Imagination is the breathing room of the heart. The whole world of possibility is thrown open to it, and the air mixes with that of heaven. Ulysses did not the less yearn to go back to the wife of his bosom, because a goddess had lain there. Affectionate habit is a luxury long drawn out; and constancy, made sweet by desert, is a sort of essence of immortality distilled. To conclude the remarks on our story ;-) -Prince Ahmed, to be sure, had every reason to be faithful; but we feel it was because a sweet, sincere, and intelligent woman loved him, rather than a wonderworking Fairy. She is a Cleopatra in what is pleasing, but she is also as unlike her as possible in what is the reverse; being very different, as she says, from her brother Schaibar, who was resentful and violent. Such is the Fairy of the East, the sweetest of all Fairies, and fit kinswoman by humanity to the only creature we like better, which is the Flying Woman of our friend Peter Wilkins. With the former we could live for ever, if disengaged and immortal; but with the latter, somehow, like Ulysses, we would rather die. There remains one more supernatural being, the Arabian Fairy, who lives in a well; for so she has been distinguished from her more elegant sister of the palace. The Arabs, leading a hard and unsettled life, scem not to have had time, even in imagination, for the more luxurious pictures of Persia. They had all the imagination of home feeling, were devoted patriots and intense lovers, and have poured forth some of the most heart-felt poetry in the world. A volume of poems might be collected out of the romance of Antar, unsurpassed as effusions of passion. But the total absence of airy and preternatural fiction in their works is remarkable. When the two nations became united, and the successors of Mahomet shifted their throne from their old barren sands to the luxurious halls of Bagdad, the mythologies of their poets gradually became confounded; and it is difficult to pronounce, after all, how far the supposed Arabian Fairy differs with the Pari, her sister; how many wonders she might have drawn out of her well, or how far the Pari could not inhabit a hole in the well on occasion, as the Fairies of Italy do in the old stones of Fiesole. She was, no doubt, distinct originally, a coarser breed, like the gnome of the desert compared with the ladies of the court of Darius; but the distinction seems hardly to have survived. If Maimoune lives in a well, we have seen that Denhasch pronounced her charming; and though we might regard this as the flattery of a devil, the Fairy herself gives us to understand that she was a good spirit, one of those who submitted to Solomon; therefore charming by implication, and at all events mixed up with the spirits of Persia. The Jinns, male and female, are all capital architects, who can make a palace in a twinkling for others. We can hardly doubt they can do as much for themselves; and that Maimoune, if she had wished to please a lover, could have raised as splendid a house of reception for him as Banou. The spiritual beings of the East then may, perhaps, safely be classed as follows, according to the most received ideas : The Deev, or Evil Genius. The Jinn, or Good Genius, if not otherwise qualified. The Pari, or Good Female Genius, always beneficent and beautiful. Individuals of all these classes are permitted to roam about the world, and reside in particular places; but their chief residence, or Fairy-land, is understood to be in Jinnistan, or the place of the Genii, which is situated on the Greek mountain of Kaf, and divided into what may be called Good Land and Bad Land, or the domains of the good, and the domains of the rebellious Genii. In the former is the province of the good Genii, the land of Shadukam, or pleasure and desire;—and the Cities Juharbad, or the City of Jewels;-and Amberabad, the City of Ambergris. In the latter stands Ahermanhabad, the City of Aherman, or the Evil Principle, over which reigns the bad King Arzhenk, a personage with a half-human body and the head of a bull. He is a connoisseur, and has a gallery of pictures containing portraits of all the different sorts of creatures before Adam. All Genii, bad and good, being subjected in some sort to the human race, whom they all in the first instance agreed not to worship, are compellable by the invocations of magic, and forced to appear in the service of particular rings and talismans. In this they resemble the Genii of the Alexandrian Platonists and the Cabala. Sometimes a man possesses a ring without knowing its value, and happening to give it a rub, is shocked by the apparition of a giant, who in a tone of thunder tells him he is his humble servant, and wants to know his pleasure. Invocations must be practiced after their particular form and letter, or the Genius becomes riotous instead of obedient, and is perhaps the death of you; and at least gives you a cuff of the ear, enough to fell a dromedary. They transport people whithersoever they please; make nothing of building a house, full of pictures and furniture, in the course of a night; and will put a sultan in their pockets for deyou, if you sire it. But if not your servants, they are dangerous acquaintances, and it is difficult to be on one's guard against them. You must take care, for instance, how you throw the shells about, when you are eating nutsę |