The place where they encamped that evening was the first delightful spot they had come to since they left Lahore. On one side of them was a grove full of small Hindoo temples, and planted with the most graceful trees of the East; where the tamarind, the cassia, and the silken plantains of Ceylon were mingled in rich contrast with the high fanlike foliage of the Palmyra, that favourite tree of the luxurious bird that lights up the chambers of its nest with fire-flies.' In the middle of the lawn where the pavilion stood there was a tank surrounded by small mangoe-trees, on the clear cold waters of which floated multitudes of the beautiful red lotus 2; while at a distance stood the ruins of a strange and awful-looking tower, which seemed old enough to have been the temple of some religion no longer known, and which spoke the voice of desolation in the midst of all that bloom and loveliness. This singular ruin excited the wonder and conjectures of all. LALLA ROOKH guessed in vain, and the all-pretending FADLADEEN, who had never till this journey been beyond the precincts of Delhi, was proceeding most learnedly to show that he knew nothing whatever about the matter, when one of the Ladies suggested that perhaps FERAMORZ could satisfy their curiosity. They were now approaching his native mountains, and this tower might perhaps be a relic of some of those dark superstitions, which had prevailed in that country before the light of Islam dawned upon it. The Chamberlain, who usually preferred his own ignorance to the best knowledge that any one else could give him, was by no means pleased with this officious reference; and the Princess, too, was about to interpose a faint word of objection, but, before either of them could speak, a slave was despatched for FERAMORZ, who, in a very few minutes, made his appearance before them looking so pale and unhappy in LALLA ROOKII's eyes, that she repented already of her cruelty in having so long excluded him.

That venerable tower, he told them, was the remains of an ancient Fire-Temple, built by those Ghebers or Persians of the old religion, who, many hundred years since, had fled hither from their

The Baya, or Indian Gross-beak.- Sir W. Jones.

2" Here is a large pagoda by a tank, on the water of which float multitudes of the beautiful red lotus: the flower is larger than that of the white water-lily, and is the most lovely of the nymphæas I have seen."- Mrs. Graham's Journal of a Residence in India.

3" On les voit persécutés par les Khalifes se retirer dans les montagnes du Kerman : plusieurs choisirent pour retraite la Tartarie et la Chine; d'autres s'arrêtèrent sur les bords du Gange, à l'est de Delhi."- M. Anquetil, Mémoires de l'Académie, tom. xxxi. p. 346.

altars in a foreign land to the alternative of apo stasy or persecution in their own. It was impossible, he added, not to feel interested in the many glorious but unsuccessful struggles, which had been made by these original natives of Persia to cast off the yoke of their bigoted conquerors. Like their own Fire in the Burning Field at Bakou', when suppressed in one place, they had but broken out with fresh flame in another; and, as a native of Cashmere, of that fair and Holy Valley, which had in the same manner become the prey of strangers, and seen her ancient shrines and native princes swept away before the march of her intolerant invaders, he felt a sympathy, he owned, with the sufferings of the persecuted Ghebers, which every monument like this before them but tended more powerfully to awaken.

It was the first time that FERAMORZ had ever ventured upon so much prose before FADLADEEN, and it may easily be conceived what effect such prose as this must have produced upon that most orthodox and most pagan-hating personage. He sat for some minutes aghast, ejaculating only at intervals," Bigoted conquerors!-sympathy with Fire-worshippers!"— while FERAMORZ, happy to take advantage of this almost speechless horror of the Chamberlain, proceeded to say that he knew a melancholy story, connected with the events of one of those struggles of the brave Fire-worshippers against their Arab masters, which, if the evening was not too far advanced, he should have much pleasure in being allowed to relate to the Princess. It was impossible for LALLA ROOKH to refuse ;-he had never before looked half so animated; and when he spoke of the Holy Valley his eyes had sparkled, she thought, like the talismanic characters on the scimitar of Solomon. Her consent was therefore most readily granted; and while FADLADEEN sat in unspeakable dismay, expecting treason and abomination in every line, the poet thus began his story of the Fire-worship

pers:

The" Age ardens" described by Kempfer, Amanitat. Exot.

5 "Cashmere (says its historians) had its own princes 4000 years before its conquest by Akbar in 1585. Akbar would have found some difficulty to reduce this paradise of the Indies, situated as it is within such a fortress of mountains, but its monarch, YusefKhan, was basely betrayed by his Omrahs." - Pennant.

6 Voltaire tells us that in his Tragedy, "Les Guèbres," he was generally supposed to have alluded to the Jansenists. I should not be surprised if this story of the Fire-worshippers were found capable of a similar doubleness of application.

THE FIRE-WORSHIPPERS.

'Tis moonlight over OMAN'S SEA; '
Her banks of pearl and palmy isles
Bask in the night-beam beauteously,
And her blue waters sleep in smiles.
Tis moonlight in HARMOZIA's walls,
And through her EMIR's porphyry halls,

Where, some hours since, was heard the swell
Of trumpet and the clash of zel,3
Bidding the bright-ey'd sun farewell;-
The peaceful sun, whom better suits
The music of the bulbul's nest,
Or the light touch of lovers' lutes,

To sing him to his golden rest.

All bush'd-there's not a breeze in motion;
The shore is silent as the ocean.
If zephyrs come, so light they come,

No leaf is stirr'd nor wave is driven;-
The wind-tower on the EMIR's dome'
Can hardly win a breath from heaven.

Ev'n he, that tyrant Arab, sleeps
Calm, while a nation round him weeps ;
While curses load the air he breathes,
And falchions from unnumber'd sheaths
Are starting to avenge the shame
His race hath brought on IRAN's name.
Hard, heartless Chief, unmov'd alike

Mid eyes that weep, and swords that strike ;-
One of that saintly, murd'rous brood,

To carnage and the Koran giv'n,
Who think through unbelievers' blood
Lies their directest path to heav'n ;-
One, who will pause and kneel unshod
In the warm blood his hand hath pour'd,
To mutter o'er some text of God

Engraven on his reeking sword; "—
Nay, who can coolly note the line,
The letter of those words divine,

To which his blade, with searching art,
Had sunk into its victim's heart!

Ev'n as those bees of TREBIZOND,

Which, from the sunniest flow'rs that glad With their pure smile the gardens round,

Draw venom forth that drives men mad."

Never did fierce ARABIA send

A satrap forth more direly great; Never was IRAN doom'd to bend

Beneath a yoke of deadlier weight.

Her throne had fall'n-her pride was crush'd-
Her sons were willing slaves, nor blush'd,
In their own land,-no more their own,-
To crouch beneath a stranger's throne.
Her tow'rs, where MITHRA once had burn'd,
To Moslem shrines-oh shame!-were turn'd,
Where slaves, converted by the sword,
Their mean, apostate worship pour'd,
And curs'd the faith their sires ador'd.
Yet has she hearts, mid all this ill,
O'er all this wreck high buoyant still
With hope and vengeance ;-hearts that yet-
Like gems, in darkness, issuing rays
They've treasur'd from the sun that's set,-

Beam all the light of long-lost days!
And swords she hath, nor weak nor slow
To second all such hearts can dare;
As he shall know, well, dearly know,

Who sleeps in moonlight lux'ry there,
Tranquil as if his spirit lay

Becalm'd in Heav'n's approving ray.
Sleep on for purer eyes than thine
Those waves are hush'd, those planets shine;
Sleep on, and be thy rest unmov'd

By the white moonbeam's dazzling power;None but the loving and the lov'd

Should be awake at this sweet hour.

And see where, high above those rocks
That o'er the deep their shadows fling,
Yon turret stands ;-where ebon locks,
As glossy as a heron's wing
Upon the turban of a king,"
Hang from the lattice, long and wild,-
"Tis she, that EMIR's blooming child,
All truth and tenderness and grace,
Though born of such ungentle race;-
An image of Youth's radiant Fountain
Springing in a desolate mountain!"

Oh what a pure and sacred thing

Is Beauty, curtain'd from the sight

6"On the blades of their scimitars some verse from the Koran is usually inscribed." - Russel.

7 "There is a kind of Rhododendros about Trebizond, whose flowers the bee feeds upon, and the honey thence drives people mad."-Tournefort.

8"Their kings wear plumes of black herons' feathers upon the right side, as a badge of sovereignty."-Hanway.

9"The Fountain of Youth, by a Mahometan tradition, is situated in some dark region of the East."-Richardson.

Of the gross world, illumining
One only mansion with her light!
Unseen by man's disturbing eye,-

The flow'r that blooms beneath the sea,
Too deep for sunbeams, doth not lie
Hid in more chaste obscurity.
So, HINDA, have thy face and mind,
Like holy myst'ries, lain enshrin'd.
And oh, what transport for a lover
To lift the veil that shades them o'er !—

Like those who, all at once, discover
In the lone deep some fairy shore,
Where mortal never trod before,
And sleep and wake in scented airs
No lip had ever breath'd but theirs.
Beautiful are the maids that glide,

On summer-eves, through YEMEN'S' dales,
And bright the glancing looks they hide
Behind their litters' roseate veils; -
And brides, as delicate and fair
As the white jasmine flow'rs they wear,
Hath YEMEN in her blissful clime,

Who, lull'd in cool kiosk or bow'r,2
Before their mirrors count the time,3
And grow still lovelier ev'ry hour;
But never yet hath bride or maid

In ARABY'S gay Haram smil'd,
Whose boasted brightness would not fade
Before AL HASSAN'S blooming child.
Light as the angel shapes that bless
An infant's dream, yet not the less
Rich in all woman's loveliness; -
With eyes so pure, that from their ray
Dark Vice would turn abash'd away,
Blinded like serpents, when they gaze
Upon the emerald's virgin blaze;1-
Yet fill'd with all youth's sweet desires,
Mingling the meek and vestal fires
Of other worlds with all the bliss,
The fond, weak tenderness of this:
A soul, too, more than half divine,

Where, through some shades of earthly feeling, Religion's soften'd glories shine,

Like light through summer foliage stealing,

1 Arabia Felix.

2" In the midst of the garden is the chiosk, that is, a large room, commonly beautified with a fine fountain in the midst of it. It is raised nine or ten steps, and inclosed with gilded lattices, round which vines, jessamines, and honeysuckles, make a sort of green wall; large trees are planted round this place, which is the scene of their greatest pleasures.” — Lady M. W. Montagu.

3 The women of the East are never without their looking-glasses. "In Barbary," says Shaw, "they are so fond of their lookingglasses, which they hang upon their breasts, that they will not lay them aside, even when after the drudgery of the day they are obliged to go two or three miles with a pitcher or a goat's skin to fetch water."- Travels.

In other parts of Asia they wear little looking-glasses on their thumbs. "Hence (and from the lotus being considered the emblem of beauty) is the meaning of the following mute intercourse of two lovers before their parents :

"He with salute of def'rence due,
A lotus to his forehead prest;

Shedding a glow of such mild hue, So warm, and yet so shadowy too, As makes the very darkness there More beautiful than light elsewhere.

Such is the maid who, at this hour,
Hath risen from her restless sleep,
And sits alone in that high bow'r,

Watching the still and shining deep.
Ah! 'twas not thus, -with tearful eyes,
And beating heart,-she us'd to gaze
On the magnificent earth and skies,

In her own land, in happier days. Why looks she now so anxious down Among those rocks, whose rugged frown Blackens the mirror of the deep? Whom waits she all this lonely night?

Too rough the rocks, too bold the steep, For man to scale that turret's height!

So deem'd at least her thoughtful sire,
When high, to catch the cool night-air,
After the day-beam's with'ring fire,

He built her bow'r of freshness there,
And had it deck'd with costliest skill,

And fondly thought it safe as fair: -
Think, reverend dreamer! think so still,

Nor wake to learn what Love can dare;-
Love, all-defying Love, who sees
No charm in trophies won with ease; -
Whose rarest, dearest fruits of bliss
Are pluck'd on Danger's precipice!
Bolder than they, who dare not dive

For pearls, but when the sea's at rest,
Love, in the tempest most alive,

Hath ever held that pearl the best He finds beneath the stormiest water. Yes-ARABY's unrivall'd daughter, Though high that tower, that rock-way rude, There's one who, but to kiss thy cheek, Would climb the' untrodden solitude

Of ARARAT's tremendous peak,"

And think its steeps, though dark and dread,
Heav'n's pathways, if to thee they led

She rais'd her mirror to his view,
Then turn'd it inward to her breast.'"

Asiatic Miscellany, vol. II. 4" They say that if a snake or serpent fix his eyes on the lustre of those stones (emeralds), he immediately becomes blind."Ahmed ben Abdalaziz, Treatise on Jewels.

5" At Gombaroon and the Isle of Ormus it is sometimes so hot that the people are obliged to lie all day in the water."- Marc Polo.

6 This mountain is generally supposed to be inaccessible. Stry says, "I can well assure the reader that their opinion is not true who suppose this mount to be inaccessible." He adds, that the lower part of the mountain is cloudy, misty, and dark, the middle most part very cold, and like clouds of snow, but the upper region perfectly calm." It was on this mountain that the Ark was stip posed to have rested after the Deluge, and part of it, they say exists there still, which Struy thus gravely accounts for :"Whereas none can remember that the air on the top of the hil did ever change or was subject either to wind or rain, which is pre

Er'n now thou see'st the flashing spray,
That lights his oar's impatient way;
Ev'n now thou hear'st the sudden shock
Of his swift bark against the rock,

And stretchest down thy arms of snow,
As if to lift him from below!

Like her to whom, at dead of night,
The bridegroom, with his locks of light,'
Came, in the flush of love and pride,
And scal'd the terrace of his bride;—
When, as she saw him rashly spring,
And midway up in danger cling,
She flung him down her long black hair,
Exclaiming, breathless, "There, love, there!"
And scarce did manlier nerve uphold

The hero ZAL in that fond hour,
Than wings the youth who, fleet and bold,
Now climbs the rocks to HINDA's bower.
See-light as up their granite steeps

The rock-goats of ARABIA clamber,2
Fearless from crag to crag he leaps,
And now is in the maiden's chamber.

She loves-but knows not whom she loves,
Nor what his race, nor whence he came;-
Like one who meets, in Indian groves,

Some beauteous bird without a name,
Brought by the last ambrosial breeze,
From isles in the' undiscover'd seas,
To show his plumage for a day
To wond'ring eyes, and wing away!
Will he thus fly-her nameless lover?
ALLA forbid! 'twas by a moon
As fair as this, while singing over
Some ditty to her soft Kanoon,
Alone, at this same witching hour,
She first beheld his radiant eyes
Gleam through the lattice of the bow'r,
Where nightly now they mix their sighs;
And thought some spirit of the air
(For what could waft a mortal there?)
Was pausing on his moonlight way
To listen to her lonely lay!

This fancy ne'er hath left her mind:

And-though, when terror's swoon had past, She saw a youth, of mortal kind,

Before her in obeisance cast,

Yet often since, when he hath spoken

Strange, awful words, and gleams have broken From his dark eyes, too bright to bear,

Oh! she hath fear'd her soul was giv'n

To some unhallow'd child of air,
Some erring Spirit cast from heav'n,

med to be the reason that the Ark has endured so long without rotten."- See Carreri's Travels, where the doctor laughs at the whole account of Mount Ararat.

Is one of the books of the Shah Nameh, when Zal (a celeIred bers of Persis, remarkable for his white hair,) comes to the terrace of his mistress Rodahver at night, she lets down her long

Like those angelic youths of old,
Who burn'd for maids of mortal mould,
Bewilder'd left the glorious skies,
And lost their heav'n for woman's eyes.
Fond girl! nor fiend nor angel he
Who woos thy young simplicity;
But one of earth's impassion'd sons,

As warm in love, as fierce in ire,
As the best heart whose current runs
Full of the Day God's living fire.

But quench'd to-night that ardour seems,

And pale his cheek, and sunk his brow;→ Never before, but in her dreams,

Had she beheld him pale as now:
And those were dreams of troubled sleep,
From which 'twas joy to wake and weep;
Visions, that will not be forgot,

But sadden every waking scene,
Like warning ghosts, that leave the spot
All wither'd where they once have been.

"How sweetly," said the trembling maid, Of her own gentle voice afraid, So long had they in silence stood, Looking upon that tranquil flood — "How sweetly does the moon-beam smile "To-night upon yon leafy isle! "Oft, in my fancy's wanderings,

I've wish'd that little isle had wings, "And we, within its fairy bow'rs,

"Were wafted off to seas unknown, "Where not a pulse should beat but ours, And we might live, love, die alone! "Far from the cruel and the cold,"Where the bright eyes of angels only "Should come around us, to behold

"A paradise so pure and lonely. "Would this be world enough for thee?", Playful she turn'd, that he might see

The passing smile her cheek put on; But when she mark'd how mournfully

His eyes met hers, that smile was gone; And, bursting into heart-felt tears, "Yes, yes," she cried, "my hourly fears, My dreams have boded all too right"We part-for ever part-to-night!

66

"I knew, I knew it could not last

""Twas bright, 'twas heav'nly, but 'tis past! "Oh! ever thus, from childhood's hour, "I've seen my fondest hopes decay; "I never lov'd a tree or flow'r,

"But 'twas the first to fade away.

"I never nurs'd a dear gazelle,

"To glad me with its soft black eye, "But when it came to know me well,

"And love me, it was sure to die! "Now too-the joy most like divine

"Of all I ever dreamt or knew, "To see thee, hear thee, call thee mine,"Oh misery! must I lose that too? "Yet go-on peril's brink we meet;"Those frightful rocks-that treach'rous sea"No, never come again-though sweet,

66

Though heav'n, it may be death to thee. "Farewell-and blessings on thy way, "Where'er thou goest, beloved stranger! "Better to sit and watch that ray, "And think thee safe, though far away,

"Than have thee near me, and in danger!"

"His grey head from that lightning glance!

"They (the Ghebers) lay so much stress on their cushee or girdle, as not to dare to be an instant without it."- Grose's Voyage.- "Le jeune homme nia d'abord la chose; mais ayant été dépouillé de sa robe, et la large ceinture qu'il portoit comme Ghèbre," &c. &c. - D'Herbeiot, art. Agduani. "Pour se distinguer des Idolâtres de l'Inde, les Guèbres ce ceignent tous d'un cordon de laine, ou de poil de chameau."- Encyclopédie Françoise.

D'Herbelot says this belt was generally of leather.

"They suppose the Throne of the Almighty is seated in the sun, and hence their worship of that luminary."- Hanway. "As to fire, the Ghebers place the spring-head of it in that globe of fire, the Sun, by them called Mythras, or Milir, to which they pay the highest reverence, in gratitude for the manifold benefits flowing

Among the living lights of heaven:2

"Yes I am of that outcast few,

"To IRAN and to vengeance true, "Who curse the hour your Arabs came "To desolate our shrines of flame, "And swear, before God's burning eye, "To break our country's chains, or die! "Thy bigot sire,-nay, tremble not, —

46

He, who gave birth to those dear eyes, "With me is sacred as the spot

"From which our fires of worship rise!

from its ministerial omniscience. But they are so far from confounding the subordination of the Servant with the majesty of its Creator, that they not only attribute no sort of sense or reasoning to the sun or fire, in any of its operations, but consider it as a purely passive blind instrument, directed and governed by the immediate impression on it of the will of God; but they do not even give that luminary, all-glorious as it is, more than the second rank amongst his works, reserving the first for that stupendous production of divise power, the mind of man."- Grose. The false charges brought against the religion of these people by their Mussulman tyrants is batere proof among many of the truth of this writer's remark, that "en lumny is often added to oppression, if but for the sake of justiðing it."