At these words Abou Hassan melted into tears; and in the midst of his sighs exclaimed, “Ah! mother, I see at last how insupportable poverty must be; I am sensible that it deprives us of joy, as the setting of the sun does of light.  As poverty makes us forget all the commendations passed upon us before our fall, it makes us endeavour to conceal ourselves, and spend our nights in tears and sorrow.  In short, a poor man is looked upon, both by friends and relations, as a stranger.  You know, mother, how I have treated my friends for this year past; I have entertained them with all imaginable generosity, till I have spent all my money, and now they have left me, when they suppose I can treat them no longer.  For my real estate, I thank heaven for having given me grace to keep the oath I made not to encroach upon that.  I shall now know how to use what is left.  But I will, however, try how far my friends, who deserve not that I should call them so, will carry their ingratitude.  I will go to them one after another, and when I have represented to them what I have done on their account, ask them to make up a sum of money, to relieve me, merely to try if I can find any sentiment of gratitude remaining in them.”

“I do not pretend, son,” said Abou Hassan’s mother, “to dissuade you from your design; but I can tell you beforehand, that you have no ground for hope.  Believe me, you will kind no relief but from the estate you have reserved.  I see you do not, but will soon, know those people, who, among persons of your sort, are generally called friends, and I wish to heaven you may know it in the manner I desire, for your own good.”  “Mother,” replied Abou Hassan, “I am persuaded of the truth of what you say, but shall be more certain of a fact which concerns me so nearly, when I shall have informed myself fully of their baseness and insensibility.”  Abou Hassan went immediately to his friends, whom he found at home; represented to them the great need he was in, and begged of them to assist him.  He promised to give bonds to pay them the money they might lend him; giving them to understand at the same time, that it was, in a great measure, on their account that he was so distressed.  That he might the more powerfully excite their generosity, he forgot not to allure them with the hopes of being once again entertained in the same manner as before.

Not one of his companions was affected with the arguments which the afflicted Abou Hassan used to persuade them; and he had the mortification to find, that many of them told him plainly they did not know him.

He returned home full of indignation; and going into his mother’s apartment, said, “Ah! madam, you were right; instead of friends, I have found none but perfidious ungrateful wretches, who deserve not my friendship; I renounce them, and promise you I will never see them more.”  He resolved to be as good as his word, and took every precaution to avoid falling again into the inconvenience which his