any particular desire?"

"Ah, thus it is that our material origin is revealed," cried Sinbad; "we
frequently pass so near to happiness without seeing, without regarding
it, or if we do see and regard it, yet without recognizing it. Are you
a man for the substantials, and is gold your god? taste this, and the
mines of Peru, Guzerat, and Golconda are opened to you. Are you a man
of imagination--a poet? taste this, and the boundaries of possibility
disappear; the fields of infinite space open to you, you advance free in
heart, free in mind, into the boundless realms of unfettered revery. Are
you ambitious, and do you seek after the greatnesses of the earth? taste
this, and in an hour you will be a king, not a king of a petty kingdom
hidden in some corner of Europe like France, Spain, or England, but king
of the world, king of the universe, king of creation; without bowing at
the feet of Satan, you will be king and master of all the kingdoms of
the earth. Is it not tempting what I offer you, and is it not an easy
thing, since it is only to do thus? look!" At these words he uncovered
the small cup which contained the substance so lauded, took a
teaspoonful of the magic sweetmeat, raised it to his lips, and swallowed
it slowly with his eyes half shut and his head bent backwards. Franz did
not disturb him whilst he absorbed his favorite sweetmeat, but when he
had finished, he inquired,--"What, then, is this precious stuff?"

"Did you ever hear," he replied, "of the Old Man of the Mountain, who
attempted to assassinate Philip Augustus?"

"Of course I have."

"Well, you know he reigned over a rich valley which was overhung by the
mountain whence he derived his picturesque name. In this valley were
magnificent gardens planted by Hassen-ben-Sabah, and in these gardens
isolated pavilions. Into these pavilions he admitted the elect,
and there, says Marco Polo, gave them to eat a certain herb, which
transported them to Paradise, in the midst of ever-blooming shrubs,
ever-ripe fruit, and ever-lovely virgins. What these happy persons took
for reality was but a dream; but it was a dream so soft, so voluptuous,
so enthralling, that they sold themselves body and soul to him who gave
it to them, and obedient to his orders as to those of a deity, struck
down the designated victim, died in torture without a murmur, believing
that the death they underwent was but a quick transition to that life of
delights of which the holy herb, now befor