The Madisonian. [volume] (Washington City [i.e. Washington, D.C.]) 1837-1845, 1841-10-16
%tsrglIaneous.
THE STUDENT OF BAGDAD.
BY THOMAS MOORE. :

BY THOMAS MOORE.
From an unpublished Romance written in ls09-l0.
"WHAT news from the khalif's arMy2" asked
the young STUD ent His question was addressed
to grave and venerable politician, whom he
found seated by his side, enjoying the cool Of
the evening, under portco OF the great College
AL Moslanseriah at Bagdad. 'Gloomy enough"
answered the strangers "our troops are flying
IN all directions from the conqueror, Holague."
"And what, then, means those shouts and
sounds of rejoicing through the cty2" .They
are for our last defeat, which the khalif1s min
lister (whom Allah bless declares, as he values
his honor and place. was no defeat at all, but a
victory. He has accordingly ordered the nhabi-
| tants OF Bagdad TO rejoice, which they are now
doing with the worst grace imaginable" .'How
wise are the descendants of Abbas p thought the
youth to himself. "Butn he resumed, 0lhe
Tartar will soon be at your gates-does not the
Khalit mean to arm the inhabitants2" .Allah
forbid3 exclaimed the old gentleman, who be-
longed TO the established sec, Of the Sonntes-
what! trust a hair Of our orthodox heads to fell
lows who disbelieve the Chapter of the Blanket
Y on are stranger, young man, you would
have known US better!" The student, on this,
wished the pious Sonnite good evening, and
retired to his lodgings,
The name of this youth was Mall. He had
left Europe under the banners Of the Saint
King, Louis, and had done honor to the Red
Branch he bore on his shield at the battles of
AL Mansurah and the Ashmun, in the latter of
which the monarch himself was taken prisoner.
When ST. Louis, however, (having purchased
back his sacred person from the Mussulmans at
price which few kings have been worth TO
their subjects, concluded peace with Azzod-
din Aybec and returned to France, young Nj
| all, who had rather more taste for learning than
was common among his brother Crusaders in
general resolved to visit the schools of the East,
and TO exchange the pious task of numbering
heathens for the somewhat more useful one of
studying and improving. by them.
'sPut up those books" said the student to his
Arab servant, "and meet me early in the morn
ing at Masud's villa" This villa was small
rural retreat on the banks OF the Tigris, which
belonged to Masud, his venerable preceptor; and
TO which the youth often fed, for GOODNESS, du
ring the sultry nights of that climate. The sun
had just set, and the modest Arabian assamnes,
which had kept the secret of their fragrance to
themselves all day, were now beginning to let
the sweet mystery out, and make every passing
breeze their confdant.* To some minds the
hours of sunset brings feeling of sadness, and
4 Laplander might well be allowed little pen
slveness on such an occasion. But to Judge by
the gaiety with which he now rowed his boat
down the Tigris, this was bv no means one of
Malls weaknesses. Not that there was any thing
beyond pleasant remembrances to give his
spirits such buoyancy at this moment !; but his
had ever been that rare and happy kind Of i'm
agination which retains the impressions of past
pleasure, as the Bologna stone treasures up sun
beams.
He was now arrived IN sight of the little villa
Of Masud and the mild moonlight that fell upon
| every object becalmed the whole scene into such
bright and beautiful repose as gave a tone of soft
| I'D, ~ r..
beyond this villa was the palace of the Emir AL
Omera, The most favorte counsellor of the kha-
lif, and chosen, like most other favorite counsel
Tors, for his great zeal and courage in recon-
mending measures which he saw his master had
fully determined on, in his own august mind al
ready. But the chicfpoint on which this emir prd
ed himself, was the superior excellenceo his
raglio and his library, and it was acknowledged,
indeed, that in all Bagdad, there was no such
tasteful collector Of beauties and books.
! But whittier is the youth directing his course?
He has already passed the humble villa of Ma
sud and is now gliding under the shadows of the
Egyptian willows which hang from the lofty ter
race Of AL Omeras seraglio Is it The wild beau
ty of the evening that tempts him so far is
he INDUCING in contemplation of the fair planet
Venus which is justnow shining with that half
retired disk which, astronomers inform US, is the
lovehest Of all her phases
Before these questions can be answered with
any certainty, we must return TO some import
ami events left, not undesignedly, behind US.
In going up HILL says the poet Daute, The him
der foot should AWAY be the frmer and GER
tainly, in the uphill work Of narrative, the hind
| foot OF the story cannot be too firmly planted.
One morning during the Nevrouz, or Festival
of the Spring, having risen with the sun and
| walked into he gay shining lawn that sloped
from his study to the river, Mall observed along
the grass which was still wet with the night
| dew, the prints of foot so small and exquisite
| ly formed, that be could have sworn il must be-
long TO some spiritual being, did he not know
how rarely mmortals leave traces of themselves
behind. Surprised at this phenomenon, he fol-
lowed the direction of the footsteps, and could
track them up close TO the lattice of a small pa
yllion where he frequently studied at night
From thence they returned, and continuing for
some time by the side of the river were wholly
lost at the entrance of deep and dark wood
which divided the grounds of Masud's villa from
the walled garden Of the sarago.
| II was little more than midday when, for
Thus versfed afterward in " I.alla Rookie:
| From plants that wake, when others sleep;
From timid lesmine buds that keep
| Their fragrance To themselves all DAY,
| But when the light dies away,
| Let the delicious secret out
To every breeze that roams about