to grant him every blessing he deserves, and to preserve him from all the miseries I suffer. Indeed, Hamet, said the merchant, he is much obliged to you, although, from his present circumstances, he does not appear much exposed to danger. But tell me, for I wish to do you good, in what can I assist you? for my son informs me that you are the prey of continual regret and sorrow. Is it wonderful, answered the Turk, with a glow of generous indignation, that suddenly animated his countenance, is it wonderful that I should pine in silence, and mourn my fate, who am bereft of the first and noblest present of nature, my liberty? And yet, answered the Venetian, how many thousands of our nation do you retain in fetters! I am not answerable, said the Turk, for the cruelty of my countrymen, more than you are for the barbarity of yours. But as to myself, I have never practised the inhuman custom of enslaving my fellow-creatures: I have never spoiled, Venetian merchants of their property, to increase my riches: I have always respected the rights of nature, and therefore it is the more severe.---Here a tear started from his eye, and wetted his manly cheek; instantly, however, he recollected himself, and folding his arms upon his bosom, and gently bowing his head, he added, God is good, and man must submit to his decrees.

The Venetian was affected with this appearance of manly fortitude, and said, Hamet, I pity your sufferings, and may perhaps be able to relieve them. What would you do to regain your liberty? What would I do? answered Hamet; by the eternal Majesty of Heaven, I would confront every pain and danger that can appal the heart of man. Nay, answered the merchant, you will not be exposed to such a trial. The means of your deliverance are certain, provided your courage does not belie your appearance. Name them! name them? cried the impatient Hamet; place death before me in every horrid shape, and if I shrink- -Patience, answered the merchant, we shall be observed. But hear me attentively---I have in this city an inveterate foe, that has heaped upon me every injury that can most bitterly sting my heart. This man is brave as he is haughty, and I must confess that the dread of his strength and valour has hitherto deterred me from resenting his insults as they deserve. Now, Hamet, your look, your form, your words, convince me, that you are born for manly daring.Take this dagger---as soon as the shades of night involve the city, I will myself conduct you to the place where you may at once revenge your friend, and regain your freedom. At this proposal, scorn and shame flashed from the kindling eye of Hamet, and passion for a considerable time deprived him of the power of utterance: at length he lifted his arm, as high as his chains would permit, and cried with an indignant tone, Mighty Prophet! and are these the wretches to whom you permit your faithful votaries to be enslaved? Go, base Christian!" and know that Hamet would not stoop to the vile trade of an assassin, for all the wealth of Venice? no! not to purchase the freedom of all his race! At these words, the merchant, without seeming much abashed, told him him he was sorry he had offended him---but that he thought freedom had been dearer to him than he found it was. However, added he, as he turned his back, you will reflect upon my proposal, and perhaps, by to-morrow, you may change your mind. Ilamet disdained to answer, and the merchant went his way.

The next day, however, he returned in company with his son, and mildly accosted Hamet thus :---The abruptness of the proposal I yesterday made you, might perhaps astonish you; but I am now come to discourse the matter more calmly with you, and I doubt not, but when you have heard my reasons- Christian! interrupted Hamet, with a severe, but a composed countenance, cease at length to insult the miserable with proposals more shocking than even these chains. If thy religion permit such acts as those, know that they are execrable and abominable to the soul of every Mahometan: therefore, from this moment, let us break off all farther intercourse, and be strangers to each other. No, answered the merchant, flinging himself into the arms of Hamet, let us, from this moment, be more closely united than ever! Generous man! whose virtues may at once disarm and enlighten thine enemies! Fondness for my son first made me interested in thy fate; but from the moment that I saw thee yesterday, I determined to set thee free: therefore pardon me this unnecessary trial of thy virtue, which has only raised thee higher in my estecin. Francisco has a soul, which is as adverse to deeds of treachery and blood as even Hamet himself. From this moment, generous inan! thou art free; thy ransom is already paid, with no other obligation than that of remembering the affection of this thy young and faithful friend; and perhaps hereafter, when thou seest an unhappy Christian groaning in Turkish fetters, thy generosity may make thee think of Venice.

It is impossible to describe the ecstacies of the gratitude of Hamet, at this unexpected deliverance. I will not therefore attempt to repeat what he said to his benefactors; I will only add, that he was that day set free, and Francisco embarked him on board a ship which was going to one of the Grecian islands, took leave of him with the greatest tenderness, and forced him to accept of a purse of gold to pay his expences. Nor was it without the greatest regret that Hamet parted from his young friend, whose disinterested kindness had thus procured his freedom; he embraced him with an agony of tenderness, wept over him at parting, and prayed for every blessing upon his head.

It was about six months after this transaction, that a sudden fire burst forth in the house of this generous merchant. It was early in the morning, when sleep is most profound; and none of the family perceived it till almost the whole building was involved in flames. The affrighted servants had just time to awaken the merchant, and hurry him down stairs; and the instant he was down, the stair-case itself gave way, and sunk with a horrid crash into the midst of the fire. But if Francisco congratulated himself for an instant upon his escape, it was only to resign himself immediately after to the most deep despair, when he found, upon enquiry, that his son, who slept in an upper apartment, had been neglected in the general tumult, and was nearly surrounded by the flames. No words can describe the father's agony; he would have rushed headlong into the fire, but was restrained by his servants; he then raved in an agony of grief, and offered half his ♦ fortune to the intrepid man who would risk his life to save his child. As Francisco was known to be 'immensely rich, several ladders were in an instant raised, and several daring spirits, incited by the vast reward, attempted the adventure. The violence of the flames, however, which continued to increase, together with the ruins that fell on every side, drove them all back; and the unfortunate youth, who now appeared

upon the battlements, stretching out his arms, and imploring aid, seemed to be destined to certain destruction.

The unhappy father now lost all perception, and sunk down in a state of insensibility; when, in this dreadful moment of general suspense and agony, a man rushed through the opening crowd, mounted the tallest of the ladders, with an intrepidity that shewed he was resolved to succeed or perish, and instantly disappeared. A sudden addition of smoke and flame broke out immediately after, which made the people believe he was lost; when, on a sudden, they beheld him emerge with the child in his arms, and descend the ladder without any material damage. An universal shout of applause now resounded to the skies; but what words can give an adequate idea of the father's feelings, when, upon recovering his senses, he found his darling pre. served, and safe within his arms.

After the first effusions of his tenderness were over, he asked for his deliverer, and was shewn a man of a noble stature, but dressed in mean attire, and his features were so begrimed with smoke and filth, that it was impossible to distinguish them. Francisco, however, accosted him with courtesy, and presenting him with a purse of gold, begged he would accept of that for the present, and that the next day he should receive to the utmost of his promised reward. No, answered the stranger, generous merchant, I do not sell my blood. Gracious heavens! cried the merchant, sure I should know that voice ;-It is—Yes, exclaimed the son, throwing himself into the arms of his deliverer, it is my Hamet; It was indeed Hamet who stood before them, in the same mean attire which he had worn six months before, when first the generosity of the merchant had redeemed him from slavery. Nothing could equal the astonishment and gratitude of Francisco; but as they were then surrounded by a large concourse of people, he desired Hamet to go with him to the house of one of his friends, and when they were alone he embraced him tenderly, and asked by what extraordinary chance he had thus been enslaved a second time; adding a kind reproach for his not informing him of his captivity. I bless God for that captivity, answered Hamet, since it has given me an opportunity of shewing that I was not altogether undeserving of your kindness, and of preserving the life of that dear youth. But is now fit that my generous patron should be informed of the whole truth. Know then, that when the unfortunate Hamet was taken by your gallies, his aged father shared his captivity: it was his fate which so often made me shed those tears which first attracted the notice of your son; and when your unexampled bounty had set me free, I flew to find the Christian that had purchased him. I represented to him that I was young and vigorous, while he was aged and infirm: I added too the gold which I had received from your bounty: in a word, I prevailed upon the Christian to send back my father in that ship which was intended for me, without acquainting him with the means of his freedom--since that time I have staid here to discharge the debt of nature and of gratitude, a willing slave.

When Hamet had thus finished his story, the Venetian was astonished at the virtue and elevation of his mind; and, after saying every thing that his gratitude and admiration suggested, he concluded with pressing him to accept the half of his fortune, and to settle in Venice for the remainder of his life. This offer Hamet refused, with the greatest re

spect, but with a generous disdain; and told his friend, that in what he had done, he had only discharged a debt of gratitude and friendship. You were, said he, my generous benefactor; you had a claim upon my life by the benefit you had already conferred: that life would have been well bestowed, had it been lost in your service; but since Providence has otherwise decreed, it is a sufficient recompence to me to have proved that Hamet is not ungrateful, and to have been instrumental to the preservation of your happiness.

But though the disinterestedness of Hamet made him under-rate his own exertions, the merchant could not remain contented without shewing his gratitude by all the means within his power. He therefore once more purchased the freedom of Hamet, and freighted a ship on purpose to send him back to his own country; he and his son then embraced him with all the affection that gratitude could inspire, and bade him, as they thought, an eternal adieu.

Many years had now elapsed since the departure of Hamet into his own country, without their seeing him, or receiving any intelligence from him. In the mean time, the young Francisco, the son of the merchant, grew up to manhood, and as he had acquired every accomplishment which tends to improve the mind, or form the manners, added to an excellent disposition, he was generally beloved and esteemed.

It happened that some business about this time made it necessary for him and his father to go to a neighbouring maritime city, and as they thought a passage by sea would be more expeditious, they both embarked in a Venetian vessel, which was upon the point of sailing to that place: They set sail, therefore, with favourable winds, and every appearance of a happy passage: but they had not proceeded more than half their intended voyage, before a Turkish corsair, a ship purposely fitted out for war, was seen bearing down upon them, and as the enemy exceeded them in swiftness, they soon found it was impossible to escape. The greater part of the crew belonging to the Venetian vessel, was struck with consternation, and seemed already overcome with fear; but young Francisco drawing his sword, reproached his comrades with cowardice, and so effectually encouraged them, that they determined to defend their liberty by a desperate resistance. The Turkish vessel now approached them in awful silence: but in an instant the dreadful noise of the artillery was heard, and the heavens were obscured with smoke intermixed with transitory flashes of fire. Three times did the Turks leap with horrid shouts upon the deck of the Venetian vessel, and three times were they driven back by the desperate resistance of the crew headed by young Francisco. length the slaughter of their men was so great that they seemed disposed to discontinue the fight, and were actually taking another course. The Venetians beheld their flight with the greatest joy, and were congratulating each other upon their successful valour and merited escape, when two more ships on a sudden appeared in sight, bearing down upon them with incredible swiftness before the wind. Every heart was now chilled with new terrors, when, upon their nearer ape proach, they discovered the fatal ensigns of their enemies, and knew that there was no longer any possibility either of resistance or escape. They therefore lowered their flag, the sign of surrendering their ship, and in an instant saw themselves in the power of their enemies, who,

At

came pouring in on every side with the rage and violence of beasts of prey.

All that remained alive of the brave Venetian crew were loaded with fetters, and closely guarded in the hold of the ship till it arrived at Tunis. They were then brought out in chains, and exposed in the public market to be sold for slaves. They had there the mortification to see their companions picked out, one by one, according to their apparent strength and vigour, and sold to different masters. At length, a Turk approached, who, from his look and habit, appeared to be of superior rank, and after glancing his eye over the rest with an expression of compassion, he fixed them at last upon young Francisco, and demanded of the captain of the ship what was the price of that young man. The captain answered that he would not take less than five hundred pieces of gold for that captive. That, said the Turk, is very extraordinary, since I have seen you sell those that much exceed him in vigour for less than a fifth part of that sum. Yes, answered the captain, but he shall either pay me some part of the damage he has occasioned, or labour for life at the oar. What damage answered the other, can he have done you more than all the rest, that you have prized so cheaply? He it was, replied the captain, that animated the Christians to that desperate resistance which cost me the lives of so many of my bravest sailors. Three times did we leap upon their deck, with a fury that seemed irresistible; and three times did that youth attack us, with such cool, determined opposition, that we were obliged to retreat ingloriously, leaving at every charge twenty of our number behind. Therefore, I repeat it, I will either have that price for him, great as it may appear, or else I will gratify my revenge by seeing him drudge for life in my victorious galley.

At this the Turk examined young Francisco with new attention and he who had hitherto fixed his eyes upon the ground in sullen silence, now lifted them up, but scarcely had he beheld the person that was talking to the captain when he uttered a loud cry, and repeated the name of Hamet. The Turk, with equal emotion, surveyed him for a moment, and then, catching him in his arms, embraced him with the transports of a parent who unexpectedly recovers a long-lost child. It is unnecessary to repeat all that gratitude and affection inspired Hamet to say; but when he heard that his ancient benefactor was amongst the number of those unfortunate Venetians who stood before him, he hid his face for a moment under his vest, and seemed overwhelmed with sorrow and astonishment; then recollecting himself, he raised his arms to heaven, and blessed that Providence which had made him the instrument of safety to his ancient benefactor.

He then instantly flew to that part of the market where Francisco stood waiting for his fate, with a manly mute despair. He called him his friend, his benefactor, and every endearing name which friendship and gratitude could inspire; and ordering his chains to be instantly taken off, he conducted him and his son to a magnificent house which belonged to him in the city. As soon as they were alone, and had time for an explanation of their mutual fortunes, Hamet told the Venetians, that when he was set at liberty by their generosity, and restored to his country, he had accepted a command in the Turkish armies ; and that having had the good fortune to distinguish himself upon several occasions, he had gradually been promoted through various