“And when the blind man clasped his hands over his head, and would have prostrated himself on the ground, in gratitude to him who spoke, asking who the charitable pitier of the afflicted could be, the prince embraced him as if he had been his brother, forced him back gently into his seat, and bidding him await him at that hour on the morrow, followed the Hakim from the house.

“And now the Dervish and Hakim spoke together once again, and the place they visited next was of a very different description.

“Enclosed within walls, and limited in extent, because in the outskirts of a populous town, the garden into which they presently entered, was—­though but as a drop in comparison with the ocean—­no unworthy rival of the gorgeous pleasure-grounds of the palace.  There, too, the roses unfolded themselves in their glory to the sun, tiny fountains scattered their cooling spray around, and singing-birds, suspended on overshadowing trees, of this scene of miniature beauty a venerable was perceived, seated under the shadow of an arbour, in front of a table on which were scattered manuscripts, papers, parchments, and dried plants, and in one corner of which were laid a set of tablets and writing materials.

“Although the door by which they entered had fallen to, with a noise as they passed through, the old man did not seem to be aware of it, nor did he notice their presence until they came so near, that their shadows fell on some of the papers on the table.  Then, indeed, he looked suddenly up, and with a smile and gesture of delight, bade them welcome.

“It was not difficult to divine that the old man had lost the sense of hearing, and the Dervish, taking up the tablets from the table, wrote upon them the following words, which he showed to the young princes, before presenting them to him for whom they were intended:-

“’Hast thou not wearied yet, oh brother, of thy narrow garden, and the ever-recurring succession of flowers, and thy study of the secrets of Nature?’

“Whereat the deaf man smiled again, and wrote upon the tablets:-

“’Can anyone weary of tracing out the skilful providence of the Divine Mind?  Is it not a world within a world, oh my brother, and inexhaustible in itself?’

“The youngest prince pressed forward to read the answer, and having read it, turned to the Dervish, and said, ’Ask him why the singing-birds are suspended in the garden, whose voices he cannot hear.’

“‘Write on the tablet, my son,’ said the Dervish; and when he had written it, the old man answered, in the same manner as before:-

“’I would remember my infirmity, my son, lest my soul should be tied to the beauties of the visible world, but now when I see the twittering bills of the feathered songsters, I remember that one sense has departed, and that the others must follow; and I prepare myself for death, trusting that those who have rejoiced in the Divine Mind—­however imperfectly—­here, may rejoice yet more hereafter, when no sense or power shall be wanting!’