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Look round thee, said his father, once again. Ortogrul looked, and perceived the channel of the torrent dry and dusty; but following the rivulet from the well, he traced it to a wide lake, which the supply, slow and constant, kept always full. He waked, and determined to grow rich by silent profit, and persevering industry.
Ortogrul looked, and espied a little well, out of which issued a small rivulet. Tell me now, said his father, dost thou wish for sudden affluence, that may pour upon thee like the mountain torrent, or for a slow and gradual increase, resembling the rill gliding from the well? Let me be quickly rich, said Ortogrul; let the golden stream be quick and violent.
Ortogrul, said the old man, I know thy perplexity; listen to thy father; turn thine eye on the opposite mountain. Ortogrul looked, and saw a torrent tumbling down the rocks, roaring with the noise of thunder, and scattering, its foam on the impending woods. Now, said his father, behold the valley that lies between the hills.
He raised his eyes, and saw the Chief Vizier, who, having returned from the Divan, was entering his palace. Ortogrul mingled with the attendants, and being supposed to have some petiton for the Vizier, was permitted to enter.
Riches not productive of Happiness: The Story of Ortogrul of Basra. IDLER, No. 99.
The haughty descendants of Ortogrul, who considered themselves born to command, seeing victory forsake them, fell back upon tyranny.
As Ortogrul of Basra was one day wandering along the streets of Bagdat, musing on the varieties of merchandize which the shops altered to his view, and observing the different occupations which busied the multitude on every side, he was awakened from the tranquillity of meditation by a crowd that obstructed his passage.
He was courteous and liberal; he gave all that approached him hopes of pleasing him, and all who should please him, hopes of being rewarded. Every art of praise was tried, and every source of adulatory fiction was exhausted. 10, Ortogrul heard his flatterers without delight, because he found himself unable to believe them. His own heart told him its frailties.
The haughty descendants of Ortogrul, who considered themselves born to command, seeing victory forsake them, fell back upon tyranny.
He speaks, and his mandate is obeyed; he wishes, and his wish is gratified! all whom he sees obey him, and all whom he hears flatter him. How different, Ortogrul, is thy condition, who art doomed to the perpetual torments of unsatisfied desire, and who hast no amusement in thy power that can withhold thee from thy own reflections!
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