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 http://www.archive.org/details/corasminorminist01murr
 
 CORASMIN, 
 
 OR, 
 
 THE MINISTER; 
 
 A ROMANCE. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 
 BY THE AUTHOR OF THE SWISS EMIGRANTS. 
 
 VOLUME I. 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 PRINTED FOR LONGMAN, HURST, REES, ORME, AND 
 BROWN, PATERNOSTER ROW. 
 
 1814,
 
 Walker and Greig, Printers, 
 Edinburgh.
 
 /^) 
 
 •T) 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 A WORK like the present ought not, in general, to 
 have any Preface ; yet there is perhaps, in the conduct 
 and plan, something which m§y render it necessary to 
 . explain the views with which the Author composed 
 
 ^^it. 
 
 In undertaking these Volumes, his object has been, 
 to delineate and render interesting a model, as perfect 
 as human nature will admit, of a man acting a con- 
 spicuous part in public life. It was not his object to 
 prove any thing ; because, though such an aim has of 
 late become fashionable, and has been recommended 
 by the example of many writers of genius, it does not 
 appear to him suited to a Work of this nature. If 
 virtue is to be there recommended, it must be, he con- 
 ceives, by addressing itself to the feelings and the 
 
 VOL, I. b
 
 11 
 
 imagination, not to the understanding ; — a faculty 
 which must be cultivated and improved* by severer 
 processes. 
 
 Having it in view to make such a representation, it 
 was difficult to find a suitable theatre. None of the 
 European States could be fixed upon, without exciting 
 that constant incredulity, so justly deprecated by the 
 critic. Neither did the Author wish at all to blend 
 history with fiction ; a plan which appeared to him in- 
 jurious to both. He merely sought a scene, which, 
 without imposing restraint, might give to his subject 
 something like a " local habitation and a name." 
 This view seemed answered by one of the kingdoms 
 of northern Asia; and Cashmire suggested itself; — a 
 country of which the history and manners are almost 
 unknown, unless by the agreeable associations which 
 the beauty of its scenery excites. This kingdom was 
 subjected some centuries ago to the Mogul Empire; 
 but history represents it as once independent, and 
 even the centre of an extended empire. Nothing, 
 therefore, seems to render it impossible, that it should 
 ouce have been the theatre of such events as are here 
 delineated. 
 
 From what has been said it will appear, that to 
 copy oriental language and manners not only did not 
 enter into the plan, but would have been inconsistent 
 with it. It was enough, if there appeared no glaring
 
 Ill 
 
 incongruity. It may even be observed, that the coun- 
 tries here treated of are very little known ; that the 
 accounts which have reached us represent the manners 
 there as greatly differing from those of Indostan, and 
 approaching more nearly to the European standard. 
 Perhaps, therefore, the Author will not be found to 
 have materially passed the bounds of that license, 
 which, on such subjects, is granted to works of in- 
 vention.
 
 CORASMIN, 
 
 OR 
 
 THE MINISTER. 
 
 CORASMIN to AlTUNO. 
 
 At length, my dear friend, your wishes 
 are fulfilled with regard to my destiny. 
 I have received from my uncle an invi- 
 tation to enter upon the career of public 
 life : He promises to introduce and sup- 
 port me. Your wishes, with the wishes 
 of my friends here, unite in pointing at 
 such an object. I myself have felt an 
 
 VOL. I. A
 
 impulse to emerge from obscurity, and 
 to mingle in the great scenes of human 
 life. I go, then, though shrinking, half 
 reluctant. I enter upon that scene, the 
 issue of which will decide all my future 
 fate. My bosom swells with awful, plea- 
 sing, tumultuous emotions. 
 
 You inquire, perhaps, with what 
 views and sentiments I enter upon this 
 career? Assuredly you are well entitled 
 to ask. From the time when a pre- 
 mature fate deprived me of my natural 
 parent, you became my more than 
 father. You received me into that re- 
 tirement, to which, after a youth spent 
 in public life, you had early withdrawn. 
 Without anger, and without misanthro- 
 py, you had left a world which knew 
 not your value. No longer able to act 
 in it with honour, you devoted yourself 
 to a life of contemplation ; you sought to 
 rear legislators, rather than to be one. 
 Your partial fondness saw in me one.
 
 through the medium of whom you hoped 
 one day to benefit mankind. To the 
 tenderness of an indulgent guardian you 
 joined the warmth and confidence of a 
 friend. You associated me entirely in- 
 to those ideas which deep thought and 
 experience had suggested, respecting 
 the sources and principles of national 
 well-being. You pointed out and pro- 
 cured access to every source of informa- 
 tion which Cashmire could supply. But, 
 more than all, you sought to impart that 
 sacred fire, which had ever lived in your 
 own breast. With you I learnt to con- 
 sider the power of becoming a benefac- 
 tor to my fellow-men, as the highest 
 glory, the utmost felicity to which a 
 mortal could aspire ; as that which most 
 nearly allied him to the Fountain of 
 good, whence he derived his origin. 
 The veil dropped, which had covered the 
 crimes of fortunate ambition : I felt all 
 that was odious in viewing the fate and
 
 fortune of millions as subservient only 
 to selfish interest and pride. I feel these 
 impressions still warm ; and were they 
 ever to be obliterated, I should consider 
 myself as utterly lost. Yet I know too 
 well the dangers which await me ; — the 
 power of temptation, of example. I 
 know well the weakness of human na- 
 ture : I feel glowing within me passions, 
 the same which have rendered others 
 that which I most dread to be. I seek 
 eagerly in the future, whether I be des- 
 tined to fulfil that image of great and 
 good which I have painted and fondly 
 cherished ; or whether I will sink, and 
 be carried along with the crowd. First 
 and highest, I must seek the aid of that 
 Power which implanted, and through 
 you has cherished, that image. But I 
 look also, as the surest of earthly props, 
 to a continuance of that intimate com- 
 munication which has hitherto subsisted 
 between us. I wish to write every oc-
 
 currence, every emotion, as it arises; to 
 make you the depositary of all my feel- 
 ings. Thus I may hope that they will 
 continue such as I would ever wish them 
 to be. You are such a friend, so tender, 
 so indulgent, that I cannot be tempted 
 to hide from you a single thought. 
 
 From the Same to the Same, 
 
 I RECEIVED your letter with extreme 
 pleasure. Your approbation is most 
 grateful to me. Your fears and anxious 
 warnings shew me all the warmth of 
 your affection. Now all is ready ; the 
 day is fixed. Shall I own it? This mo- 
 ment, so much longed for, now that it 
 approaches, becomes most painful. I 
 look back with envy on that long and
 
 deep obscurity in which my Hfe has hi- 
 therto passed. Oh ! days, once account- 
 ed burdensome, now precious and regret- 
 ted ! golden days, how rapidly did you 
 fly over my head ! But I go; higher du- 
 ties, higher hopes call me : I go into 
 that tempting dangerous world. Yet, 
 will my days ever flow on as tranquilly 
 as beneath these shades ? 
 
 It is now too late to repent, nor do I 
 repent. But the feeling how much he 
 would have to return to, gives your pu- 
 pil some confidence that he will not be 
 the mere slave of fortune ; that when- 
 ever honour opposes a bar to his career, 
 or he cannot advance without a sacri- 
 fice of those motives which impelled 
 h'lm to enter it, he will find little difli- 
 culty in retracing his steps.
 
 From the Same to the Same. 
 
 I AM at Cashmire, — in the capital. 
 I am plunged into that whirlpool, in 
 which I must ever after be tossed. 
 Farewell, Patala ; where deep beneath 
 the shade of my native woods, while the 
 breeze rolled over me, I lost myself in 
 blissful visions of futurity ! Farewell to 
 tlie golden days of hope ! — But I must 
 not look behind. 
 
 It was on the evening of the second 
 daytiiat I first came in sight of Cash- 
 mire; that I beheld its palaces, its 
 spires, its smoke dimming the western 
 sky. I feel still not a little strange and 
 lonely: my mind full of those I have 
 left, and not yet interested in any thing
 
 here. Crowds buzz around me, to whom 
 I am nothing. However, these are my 
 very first impressions, for I have not 
 yet seen my uncle, nor any one. I shall 
 have done so when I next write. 
 
 From the Same to the Same, 
 
 My uncle has received me with as 
 much kindness as his letters had given 
 reason to expect; he has even insisted 
 on my taking up my residence in his 
 house. He says he will make my for* 
 tune. This is not precisely the light in 
 which I had viewed the subject; but he 
 can, I presume, mean nothing more than 
 the placing me in some sphere of public 
 employment.
 
 The present situation of affairs leaves 
 no doubt as to what I must do. My 
 country is in danger; I must fly to its 
 defence. The barbarians of the north 
 threaten to overwhehn this kingdom, 
 and to lay it utterly waste : No good so 
 great could be done, as to contribute 
 even the smallest aid in repelling this 
 threatened calamity. My uncle has pro- 
 cured me the offer of a small command; 
 and though, in ordinary times, a different 
 situation might have appeared more de- 
 sirable, I have accepted it without hesi- 
 tation. Though not wholly a stranger 
 to military duties, my anxiety is, lest I 
 should yet not be sufBciently qualified 
 for a situation of such responsibility. 
 Fortunately a certain interval is to elapse 
 before the corps to which I am attached 
 will join the army on the frontier ; and 
 I hope, by devoted application during 
 that time, to supply what is now want- 
 ing in my qualilications, 
 A 3
 
 10 
 
 From the Same to the Same. 
 
 My time, since writing last, has been 
 almost entirely occupied in preparing 
 myself for the duties of my new situa- 
 tion. I must not lose a moment of time 
 so precious. My apartment is entirely 
 filled with maps, plans, and representa- 
 tions of military manoeuvres; the tables 
 are covered, the walls hung round with 
 them. Still more valuable information, 
 however, is to be gained from the con- 
 versation of several intelligent veteran 
 officers, to whom my uncle has introduc- 
 ed me, — men who have thought as well 
 as acted ; who can shew the springs by 
 which armies are moved; the hidden 
 causes of former success and disaster.
 
 11 
 
 I must own myself not to be quite so 
 much delighted with my uncle, since 
 our acquaintance became more intimate. 
 Our ideas on some subjects do not ex- 
 actly coincide. His own interest, the 
 advancement of his power and favour at 
 court, seem almost the sole objects of his 
 ambition; and I sometimes doubt, that 
 there are few things indeed which he 
 would not sacrifice to them. It is thus 
 not always possible to assent to the con- 
 versation I hear, or to avoid an occa- 
 sional collision. However, we continue 
 on the wliole to be very good friends. 
 He treats me with indulgence, makes 
 allowance for my youth and inexperi- 
 ence, significantly predicts that time will 
 effect a change; that a few years will 
 bring me entirely to his mode of think- 
 ing. What I least like are the sage max- 
 ims ever in his mouth, — that we must 
 suit ourselves to circumstances; that op- 
 portunities must not be lost; that we
 
 must do as others do : And I am afraid 
 that somewhat more is meant by these 
 expressions than the mere words imply. 
 However, he is exceedingly friendly, in- 
 troduces me to every one, praises me 
 cvery-where, and I see no positive 
 ground to suspect, that these exertions 
 have any other motive than personal 
 kindness. 
 
 I have been introduced into a very 
 extensive circle of society, which at 
 this moment there is little leisure to 
 cultivate. I have met with many per- 
 sons highly accomplished, possessed of 
 elegant, and even captivating manners; 
 from many of wh6m, too, I have receiv- 
 ed ample professions of friendship. On 
 a closer inspection, however, these ac- 
 complishments have often proved rather 
 showy than useful, and these professions 
 made chiefly to my situation and con- 
 nexions. There prevails too much of 
 that spirit which I have already noticed
 
 13 
 
 in my uncle. Distinction at court, 
 high office, appear the only envied ob- 
 jects on earth. In short, the scene, with 
 some change of men, and some change 
 of things, is still, on the whole, exactly 
 as you described it. I recognize the 
 truth of those shades which your pencil 
 laid, on the too flattering portrait that 
 fancy had drawn. You taught me to 
 trace man, under all his disguises, in a 
 court where all are devoured by vanity, 
 all busied in the care of appearing what 
 they are not. Yet you taught me also 
 to guard against the extreme of unjust 
 suspicion, to make all possible allowance 
 even for obvious faults, to see in man 
 his imperfections, and to love him still. 
 A very few, however, I have found, 
 whose acquaintance, I trust, will ripen 
 into friendship, and will form a chief sup- 
 port and enjoyment of my future life. 
 Of these none is so amiable as Zingani^ a 
 young man whom you will remember to
 
 14 
 
 have met at Chandor. He retains the 
 warmest recollection of that period, and 
 you form a powerful tie between us. 
 You would then have some opportunity 
 of observing his character. It is one 
 formed rather for thought than action ; 
 rather for the shades of Hfe than tlie 
 tumult of public affairs. To sound judg- 
 ment and comprehensive views, he unites 
 elegant and highly cultivated taste. Mo- 
 dest even to timidity, unwilling to meet 
 the pubhc eye, his merit is overlooked 
 by superficial observers. He is qualified 
 for giving advice, ratlier than for acting 
 upon it himself with vigour and decision. 
 But his disposition is so affectionate, so 
 formed for friendship, that it is impossi- 
 ble to know him intimately without being- 
 inspired with the warmest attachment. 
 
 Alvanda is a different character, more 
 brilliant and more gay. His disposition, 
 his talents, entirely prepare him for mix- 
 ing in the world, and appearing with dis-
 
 15 
 
 tinction in all societies. He possesses 
 also, an ample share of solid qualities ; — 
 quick penetration, a mind highly culti- 
 vated, and strict sentiments of honour. 
 Yet is he not without some failings : — 
 Open, generous, and unsuspicious, he is 
 apt to be imposed upon by the mere ap- 
 pearances of virtue in others : he fails in 
 that nice discernment of character, which 
 is so important to the man who acts in 
 the world, and in public life. Too much 
 governed by present impressions, he is 
 betrayed sometimes into precipitate steps. 
 But his understanding soon enables him 
 to discover the error; and the frankness 
 with which he acknowledges, the eager- 
 ness with which he seeks to repair it, 
 throw new lustre on his character. In 
 unfolding our views on the most inte- 
 resting subjects, I have in general found, 
 either that the}^ were already his, or that, 
 immediately on hearing, he was disposed 
 to adopt them with warmth. He loves
 
 16 
 
 you already, and would be extremely 
 delighted to form an acquaintance with 
 you. 
 
 My young friend Fazil has followed, 
 and insists on entirely attaching himself 
 to me. He possesses not, as you are 
 aware, original or brilliant parts, such as 
 could enable him to act in a distinguished 
 sphere. But he is extremely amiable, and 
 his devoted attachment well merits simi- 
 lar attachment in return. He is con- 
 scious besides of his deficiencies, and has 
 no ambition to rise above that for which 
 nature has destined him. He will be 
 precious to me as a personal friend ; one 
 to whom I can entrust every secret, and 
 can place the fullest confidence. It will 
 be my object to keep him near me, and 
 in his mild and modest friendship to find 
 a refreshment from the toils and tumults 
 of public life.
 
 17 
 
 Cabuli {the Uncl€\ to Altuno. 
 
 Well ! I am pleased with your young 
 man. He has fire, spirit, activity; he 
 ^yill make a figure in the world. I hope 
 one day to see him do honour to us both. 
 He does really spare no pains in fitting 
 himself to make a respectable figure at 
 the head of his troop. His companions, 
 too, have the reputation of young men of 
 merit. These connexions are very cre- 
 ditable, and may aid in bringing him for- 
 ward. There is no fear of him, provided 
 he tempers his warmth with a little pru- 
 dence; provided he listens to advice, and 
 acquires a due respect for the opinions of 
 persons of experience. At present he is 
 a little unmanageable, full of college and
 
 18 
 
 country notions, which will not pass cur- 
 rent here. Till these are got rid of, it is 
 impossible for any young man to make 
 his way. It behoves, therefore, all the 
 friends of Corasmin to impress upon him 
 the necessity of bringing down his ideas 
 to the level of this world. To you who 
 have great influence with him, I trust 
 for steady co-operation in this important 
 object. One thing which consoles me 
 is, that I remember to have myself, at 
 one time, had some ideas of the very 
 same nature ; but the moment I came 
 to be seriously employed, I found that 
 they could be of no service whatever ; 
 quite the contrary. So, I trust, will it 
 be with Corasmin ; and surely, when he 
 sees that the absence of such chimeras 
 has never impeded mi/ progress, he will 
 see the less reason to cling to them with 
 such pertinacity
 
 19- 
 
 CORASMIN to AlTUNO. 
 
 I HAVE just belield a most interesting 
 spectacle. The corps of one of our 
 officers being boasted of as peculiarly 
 well disciplined, I one day found means, 
 though at some little distance, to see it 
 manoeuvre. I was completely struck with 
 astonishment and admiration. What ce- 
 lerity, what precision ! How does one 
 word, as if by magic, communicate a 
 rapid and instantaneous impulse to every 
 part! Such vast bodies moving in uni- 
 son, as if one soul inspired all 1 What 
 spirit in their countenances ! This is in- 
 deed a model for us all. Never shall I 
 be satisfied till mine is equal. I hope 
 soon either to converse with this officer^
 
 20 
 
 or, by means of some persons to whom he 
 is known, to learn the methods by which 
 he has brought his troops to this perfec- 
 tion. 
 
 But it is not the forms of discipline 
 only which are necessary, in order to 
 render men truly useful to their coun- 
 try. Besides the mere mechanical modes 
 of enforcing obedience, the true officer 
 must know how to command their minds; 
 and, to command, he must know them. 
 He must be acquainted with the ideas 
 most familiar to these minds ; the chan- 
 nels through which they may be reach- 
 ed, the arguments best suited to their 
 comprehension, the allusions that strike 
 most forcibly, the words which, thrown 
 in at a critical moment, like fire on the 
 flint, kindle the latent flame. Nor have 
 I even overlooked opportunities of listen- 
 ing unobserved to their familiar conver- 
 sation, and of thus studying the frame of 
 those minds on which I am to operate.
 
 21 
 
 Oh ! my friend, who has given you the 
 hint you allude to at the close of your 
 letter ? I in love ! Amidst the tumult of 
 arms, sharpening my sword for the mor- 
 tal field, had I a moment left for such 
 thoughts? I have seen glimpses only, 
 partial, hasty ; some, I own, not without 
 charms, yet bearing too little resem- 
 blance to the image in my heart to in- 
 spire a wish that the object was mine. 
 I have seen such approaches as to heigh- 
 ten my idea of that image, but not^ fill 
 it. If you say that it may be looked for 
 in vain, you must at least admit, that I 
 have still time to spend in hope. So 
 then I am not in love, unless it be with 
 that still unfound fair one. Indeed, my 
 friend, you may rest assured, that in 
 this respect, as in every other, whatever 
 revolution may take place, you shall 
 hear of first from myself
 
 22 
 
 From the Same to the Same, 
 
 We are all in confusion ; scarcely have 
 I a moment to write. The alarm is 
 given before expectation ; the enemy 
 are fast approaching. Already the trum- 
 pet blows ; the echoes of the mountains 
 are resounding. This is the long wished- 
 for moment; yet I dread lest it should 
 have arrived somewhat too soon. My 
 troops are not yet all that I wished 
 them : I tremble lest they should fail in 
 the hour of trial. In the example, in- 
 deed, of some of my comrades, I see 
 much that might be consolatory; but 
 their standard must not be mine. 
 
 I go forth prepared, with my mind 
 fully fixed to die. I speak not rashly;
 
 23 
 
 I feel all that is awful in the thought. 
 This current of life, which is now warm 
 within me, to be stopped for ever ! all 
 my glowing hopes extinguished ! Doubt- 
 less at this, nature must stand appalled. 
 But, am I not fighting in a cause for 
 which no sacrifice can be too great ? 
 Oh ! thou supreme Author and Arbiter 
 of this being, at thy command, and in a 
 cause approved by thee, can I hesitate 
 to quit it ? Can I shrink from the fu- 
 ture, dark and unknown though it be ? 
 No ! Others must learn from me to con- 
 quer, or to die. 
 
 I have not time to write another 
 word. — I fly to the field!
 
 M 
 
 Fazil to Altuno, 
 
 You ask me to write to you ; to tell 
 you all that is clone by Corasmin, all 
 that is said of him, all that his own mo- 
 desty would never have disclosed. You 
 could not have imposed on me a more 
 grateful task. From the moment he res- 
 cued a father from calamity, I attached 
 myself to his fortunes ; and seeing every 
 day more and more all that is great in 
 him, my resolution became stronger ne- 
 ver to separate. Though I cannot glow 
 with that fire which shines so bright in 
 him, though my soul be far beneath the 
 level of his, I can still attend him as an
 
 9,5 
 
 inmible aiding friend : I can watch over 
 bis interests, while he is engrossed by 
 the interests of mankind; I can attach 
 myself to his orbit, still near him, though 
 still beneath. Such is the destiny I 
 have chosen for myself; such the sphere 
 in which I hope to be most happy, most 
 useful. 
 
 The approaching period will, accord- 
 ing to every appearance, afford ample 
 opportunity for fulfilling the task assign- 
 ed me. Already Corasmin has set out 
 with the army, and I instantly follow. 
 
 Cabuli to Corasmin* 
 
 My dear Nephew, — As you are now for 
 the first time going out into the world, I 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 Q6 
 
 think it my duty to communicate to you 
 some lessons, which my own experience 
 has suggested. I am far from wishing 
 to undervalue Altuno : he is my friend, 
 I esteem him greatly; much good you 
 have derived from him. But I myself 
 have lived somewhat longer in the world, 
 and among great affairs ; and when you 
 merely consider to what I have raised 
 myself, when compared with him, you 
 will scarcely fail to admit me to be fully 
 as well qualified for pointing out the way 
 to a young man. Now Altuno, from liv- 
 ing so long out of the great world, has 
 given you some ideas not exactly suited 
 to its meridian. Not that I blame him 
 entirely ; it is extremely proper and con- 
 venient to have such things at command. 
 In manifestoes, and whatever is to ap- 
 pear before the public, they are quite in 
 place, and produce often an advantageous 
 effect. But when we come with them 
 into real life, when we attempt applying
 
 27 
 
 them to practice, they soon prove quite 
 unfit for such purposes; they encumber 
 us at every step. We must act accord- 
 ing to circumstances, must seize the fa- 
 vourable moment, must study our own 
 interest, otherwise no one will study it for 
 us. These are the principles which you 
 will find to have guided those who are 
 now the men of greatest consequence at 
 court. Perhaps, indeed, I might, without 
 any very extravagant vanity, recommend 
 myself as the model on which you might 
 form yourself: But all my object is, to 
 point out the safety of following the 
 tract of those who have succeeded in the 
 same line of pursuit.
 
 28 
 
 Fazil to Altuno. 
 
 Cora SM IN has already had much to 
 do ; for the system which prevailed 
 among the neighbouring corps was, in 
 many respects, such as he could view with 
 no satisfaction. Wherever the troops 
 marched, it was their custom to plunder 
 and commit outrages on the peaceable 
 inhabitants. The regulations against 
 such conduct were never duly enforced ; 
 and the unpunished example of others 
 was supposed to constitute a right. Co- 
 rasmin foresaw that chastisement, unless 
 against flagrant offences, could not be 
 practised without difficulty/ and without
 
 29 
 
 the clanger of excHing an alarming de- 
 gree of discontent. He exhausted all 
 his ingenuity to devise some other mode 
 of remedying the evil. His influence 
 over the minds of his men was now 
 great : it had been well earned, by his 
 mildness, his attention to their comforts, 
 his gracious address. He conceived it 
 possible to persuade them voluntarily to 
 abstain from these disorders. He could 
 appeal to them, as never having shewn 
 a disposition to abridge their comforts, 
 or impose any unnecessary hardship. In 
 language suited to their capacity, he re- 
 presented the nature, the dignity of their 
 employment; — to preserve their country 
 from the assaults of savage enemies ; to 
 secure to their countrymen property and 
 life. How unworthy was it of such an 
 office to become themselves the plunder- 
 ers ; to act the very part which was 
 dreaded from those against whom they 
 were to contend. He roused their pride
 
 30 
 
 to distinguish themselves, in this res- 
 pect, above their neighbours. In short, 
 he prevailed on them to enter into an 
 engagement, to abstain wholly from 
 these irregularities ; to pay for whatever 
 they procured ; and to commit no vio- 
 lence on their unarmed countrymen. A 
 number agreed at once; most of the 
 others were soon induced to follow their 
 example; and though a few held out for 
 some time, they too became at last 
 ashamed of thus differing from their 
 comrades. It was then easy to establish 
 punishments, chiefly of disgrace, for 
 those who should violate this general 
 engagement.
 
 31 
 
 From the Same to the Saine. 
 
 Our journey is now completed ; we 
 have joined the army stationed on the 
 frontier. The camp is marked out on the 
 declivity of a hill, which, commanding 
 an extensive plain in our front, is sup- 
 posed to aiford an advantageous posi- 
 tion. The enemy are on their march, 
 and very shortly expected ; but no tid- 
 ings of their immediate approach have 
 yet reached us. 
 
 The army here, being composed chiefly 
 of veterans, has afforded the opportunity 
 of observing a higher standard of disci- 
 pline; and Corasmin conceives, that his
 
 3£ 
 
 new levies stand still in great need ot 
 improvement. He is therefore employ- 
 ing assiduously the present interval. 
 In establishing that prompt obedience, 
 which is the most essential quality of the 
 soldier, he has been studious to avoid 
 those violent methods which are habi- 
 tually employed in the army. Sallies of 
 caprice and resentment, with the wanton 
 and undistinguishing severities to whrch 
 these prompt, they have never to dread 
 from him. Examples indeed have been 
 given, that no one can inflict punish- 
 ment, when necessary, with more vigour 
 and promptitude ; but, in general, he is 
 anxious to employ higher excitements. 
 He distinguishes and applauds those who 
 discover more than common proficiency; 
 he bestows, with scrupulous attention to 
 merit, any little appointments which may 
 be at his disposal; he even proposes, for 
 those who excel, prizes, small indeed in
 
 33 
 
 value, but eagerly desired for the honour 
 they confer. 
 
 The condition to which the troop has 
 thus been brought, begins to attract ge- 
 neral notice. The commander of the 
 corps to which we are attached, is fortu- 
 nately a man who loves and knows to 
 distinguish merit. I heard lately his 
 conversation : He expressed the highest 
 admiration at the discipline to which this 
 troop had been raised, and the perfect 
 order in which it was maintained. ^' I 
 " never hear complaints against them," 
 said he, " as against all the others ; I 
 " hear of no disorders committed by 
 " them. This corps, small as it is, may 
 " serve as a model for the whole army.'* 
 
 B 3
 
 34 
 
 - From the Sa7ne to the Sa?ne. 
 
 The enemy are arrived. Two days ago 
 intelligence was brought, of an immense 
 force having been seen, advancing rapid- 
 ly in this direction. Every new courier 
 brought tidings of its nearer approach. 
 Our eyes continued fixed on the quarter 
 whence its appearance might be expect- 
 ed. A considerable time, however, elap- 
 sed without any symptoms of its actual 
 arrival. At length a sound was heard, 
 as of distant thunder, and clouds of dust, 
 involving the whole horizon, came roll- 
 ing tow^ards us. The sound^ swelled by 
 degrees, till we could plainly distinguish
 
 3S 
 
 the clang of armour, and the trampling 
 of innumerable steeds. After some in- 
 terval the vanguard appeared on the 
 brow of an opposite eminence. It ad- 
 vanced ; the rest followed in swift suc- 
 cession ; and thus they continued pouring 
 on in myriads, and covering the whole 
 plain, till nothing could be seen beyond. 
 The fierceness of their aspect, the wild- 
 ness of their cries, the prodigious extent 
 of ground which, wherever we turned our 
 eyes, appeared covered by their legions ; 
 these could not, even by the most intre- 
 pid, be contemplated without some de- 
 gree of awe. It was easy to see, that this 
 spectacle had produced a deep impression 
 on the minds of the army. They looked 
 long wishfully, but in vain, for an end 
 of this mighty inundation. Throughout 
 all the quarters round, instead of the for- 
 mer gaiety and animation, reigned a deep 
 and disconsolate silence. Corasmin was 
 eager to di'spel this panic; yet he judged
 
 36 
 
 it expedient to wait till the first emo- 
 tions of surprise and consternation had 
 somewhat subsided. So long as these 
 lasted, no arguments could be expected 
 to produce much effect. Towards even- 
 ing, however, he assembled and address- 
 ed them. He represented all that was 
 sacred in the cause which they now stood 
 pledged to defend. It was their country, 
 (there was not on earth a holier name), 
 their country, which perished, unless they 
 saved it. From the moment they enter- 
 ed the field, it became their duty, in its 
 cause, to set every danger at defiance. 
 That cause was identified to them with 
 all the most sacred domestic ties : for 
 never was there a desolation so dreadful 
 as that with which this land would be 
 swept. But what was it that filled some 
 breasts with alarm ? A mere irregular 
 and tumultuous crowd; a mass, which 
 its own bulk would render unwieldy! 
 How often had such vast armies been
 
 37 
 
 routed by numbers far inferior. Courage 
 and discipline, in both of which they 
 were surely superior, chiefly decided the 
 fate of battles. But the greater the su- 
 periority of numbers on the part of the 
 enemy, the greater also would be the 
 glory of vanquishing them. 
 
 On hearing this discourse, and still 
 more in seeing the firm and undaunted 
 countenance with which it was uttered, 
 the spirits of the troops began to revive. 
 No opportunity was lost by Corasmin 
 of throwing out, as if incidentally, re- 
 marks of an encouraging nature. He 
 was even willing to be overheard ex- 
 pressing similar sentiments to some of 
 his brother officers ; in which form it was 
 considered more certain that they were 
 real. Thus confidence is now, in a great 
 degree, restored.
 
 38 
 
 CORASMIN to AlTUNO. 
 
 Although I must at present trust 
 chiefly to Fazil for giving you infor- 
 mation of what we are doing, yet, as I 
 cannot think of dropping our correspon- 
 dence entirel}^, I snatch a short inter- 
 val of leisure to write. 
 
 We remain on the defensive ; and 
 the enemy, for some reason unknown, 
 have not yet made an attack. Still, how- 
 ever, we see the horizon bounded only 
 by their tents and standards, while their 
 bands roll tumultuously over the plain, 
 like the waves of a tempestuous ocean.
 
 39 
 
 My band being suited to skirmishes 
 and light movements, I have solicited 
 and obtained a station on the van of the 
 army. Extreme caution, however, is 
 necessary in the first enterprises, since, 
 did these fail, all their fears would be 
 confirmed. On this issue must greatly 
 depend what they will hereafter be. 
 The first object has been, perfectly to 
 know the country on which we are to 
 act, — every hillock, every bush, as if it 
 had been my native ground. I have 
 caused delineations to be made; I have 
 formed connexions with the natives of 
 the district, shepherds who, by traversing 
 these mountains from infancy, have be- 
 come intimate with all their recesses. 
 All my emissaries are at work. I trust 
 that scarcely one of the enemy's move- 
 ments on this side can now escape me. 
 This instant I learn, that a body is re- 
 turning, laden with the booty of a fertile 
 district in the neighbourhood. I know
 
 40 
 
 the very road by which they must pass, 
 the moment when they will be exposed 
 to attack :— I fly ! 
 
 Fazil to Altuno. 
 
 The first attempt of Corasmin has 
 been crowned with brilliant success. 
 Then was seen the value of men zealous- 
 ly attached to their commander, soli- 
 citous for his honour as for their own. 
 Thus animated, they threw themselves 
 fearless upon every danger. A consider- 
 able body of the enemy were routed, 
 pursued to their camp, and a large booty 
 recovered. This to the troops has been 
 a good seasoning, and has tended, more
 
 41 
 
 than any thing else could have done, to 
 animate and reassure them. This exploit 
 has been followed by others, and already 
 Corasmin, with his little band, begin to 
 draw the attention of the whole army. 
 Even those allow him to be an active and 
 able partisan, who know not for what 
 greater things nature has destined him. 
 But I, to whom that tliought is ever pre- 
 sent, tremble to think of this daring 
 valour. He thinks not of himself, and 
 that is but too natural ta his ardent and 
 generous character. He rushes delighted 
 to the scene where his country may be 
 served, and glory earned. But cruel 
 were the chance by which such great 
 hopes were prematurely blasted; wasted 
 too, on objects so far beneath him. I 
 grieve therefore when I see the general, 
 who observes him so active and useful, 
 calling him forth wherever any perilous 
 service is to be performed. Surely, if he 
 knew the much greater things of which
 
 42 
 
 he is capable, he would not commit him 
 so deeply in these. What an injustice 
 to mankind^ thus prematurely to expose 
 one, whose lengthened life might be 
 productive of such copious blessings ; 
 and what paltry benefits are these, for 
 which it is staked! But if he thus 
 neglects himself, it is ours to make him 
 our care. If my life, thrown between 
 him and danger, can shield him, be 
 assured he is safe. 
 
 CORASMIN to AlTUNO. 
 
 This is a solemn letter. The awful, 
 the eventful crisis is now approaching, 
 and every heart is strung to meet it.
 
 43 
 
 The movements in the enemy's camp, 
 and the orders issued in consequence, 
 leave little douht that the grand attack 
 will be made very speedily, probably 
 even on the approaching day. I have 
 started at this early hour, and now spend 
 in writing to you a few of the moments 
 allowed for sleep. From this high sta- 
 tion i see the whole camp, which lies 
 buried in slumber beneath. As the sun 
 bursts from its eastern boundary, the 
 thought involuntarily arises, to how 
 many of those who now lie stretched 
 before me it never will rise again. And 
 I may be of that number ; nature may 
 for the last time be displaying her beau- 
 ties before my eyes. But, down every 
 coward thought. No I I am armed, and 
 every mortal care at rest : I am prepar- 
 ed to devote myself for Cashmire. Still, 
 among my present feelings, predominate 
 hope for my country, and the eager de- 
 sire of doing for her something, however
 
 44 
 
 small, in this day of her fate. Oh! 
 could but one evident good arise from 
 my exertions 1 But already it is day; 
 the trumpets sound ; the camp is in mo- 
 tion ; that of the enemy moves also : 
 Soon, I trust, will you hear of Cashmire's 
 triumph ! 
 
 Fazil to Altuno. 
 
 Oh ! my revered friend, in what cir- 
 cumstances do I write ? Already you 
 must have heard the fatal intelligence. 
 What a calamity to Cashmire ! what a 
 death-blow to our hopes ! Throughout all 
 this host, nothing but rout and disorder 
 reign y its bands are scattered in confu-
 
 45 
 
 sion over the plains, while the barbarous 
 legions follow close behind, laying all 
 desolate. But in this moment of tumul- 
 tuous haste I have only time to write 
 you of Corasmin. He has surpassed all 
 our expectations ; his country's fall has 
 covered him with glory. Soon shall I 
 snatch an hour to write you the wonders 
 he has achieved. At present I am in- 
 ieirupted ; I must hasten away. 
 
 From the Same to the Same. 
 
 I AM now able, though still in haste, 
 to perform the promise with which I con- 
 cluded my last.
 
 46 
 
 We were not mistaken in our antici- 
 pation of being attacked on the very day 
 that Corasmin wrote. Early in the 
 morning the enemy's whole army were 
 drawn out in order of battle, and, soon 
 after, this immense body began moving 
 towards us. The air rung with loud 
 shouts and clashing of arms. The bar- 
 barians made the onset with desperate 
 valour, animated by the hopes of plun- 
 der and victory. For some time we 
 maintained our ground against the ut- 
 most fury of their attacks. But the 
 centre then began to give way: it was 
 soon followed by the opposite wing, and 
 by part of that in which w^e were sta- 
 tioned. Our division still held out, being 
 commanded by an officer of distinguished 
 conduct and bravery. At length it be- 
 came necessary for it also to retreat, in 
 order to avoid being surrounded. Then 
 it was that all the powers of Corasmin 
 were called forth : That hour of his
 
 47 
 
 country's danger rendered him more than 
 man. Calm, as if no danger existed, he 
 exhausted upon his men every resource 
 of command, of entreaty, of reproach; 
 that the panic, which was spreading so 
 rapidly from rank to rank, might stop 
 there. It was impossible altogether to 
 shut out the contagion; the confusion 
 of a moment ensued ; but soon his voice, 
 his example, revived their courage ; they 
 assembled ; and, while the field was 
 strewed wi4:h the scattered bands of their 
 countrjmien, alone presented an unbroken 
 front to the enemy. He instantly saw 
 the use that might be made of them : 
 He led them to the pass, whose cliffs, 
 almost meeting, narrowed the scene of 
 contest, and rendered numbers unavail- 
 ing. The enemy, enraged to see their 
 career stopped by so small a barrier, col- 
 lected their whole strength for a furious 
 attack; but their charge was received in 
 such a manner as deterred them, for a 
 
 3
 
 46 
 
 long interval, from repeating it. Their 
 second eiFort, with augmented means, 
 proved equally fruitless. Thus was Co- 
 rasmin enabled to 'keep his ground, till 
 all the division had retired, without se- 
 rious loss. He then followed, almost un- 
 molested : such was the awe with which 
 the enemy had been inspired. 
 
 Your young friend has received all the 
 congratulations due to his merit, now 
 universally recognized. Zamri, the offi- 
 cer who commands the division, is one 
 who can fully appreciate it. I overheard 
 him say, " Oh ! that I had an army that 
 " would thus follow me : we should thew 
 " be invincible!" 
 
 I
 
 49 
 
 From the Same to the Same. 
 
 Oh ! my revered friend, what news 
 have I now to give ! How dreadful a loss, 
 mingled though it be with high consola- 
 tion. Why should all that is most noble 
 in human nature be but the path which 
 leads to an untimely fate ? 
 
 Our arms could no longer resist the 
 barbarous torrent, which swept every 
 thing before it. All Cashmire, it is 
 feared, must become its victim. There 
 remained one fortress, not strong, but so 
 happily situated, that, while it stood, 
 their progress must be suspended. Yet 
 how to find a person to whom such a 
 charge could be safely entrusted, or who 
 
 VOL. r. c
 
 would dare to undertake it! Its fall 
 seemed inevitable, before relief could be 
 brought; and when it fell, the experien- 
 ced ferocity of the enemy left no doubt as 
 to the fate which awaited its defenders. 
 To him who entered, slender indeed was 
 the hope of returning. Yet som^ one 
 must be found ; and Zamri, who had ac- 
 quired great consideration by his conduct 
 in the late engagement, was referred to, 
 as the most likely to chuse well. Con- 
 ceiving that so perilous a service should, 
 if possible, be voluntary, he assembled 
 the principal among the subordinate offi- 
 cers : He represented to them the vast 
 importance of this service, which would 
 afford time for the formation of a new 
 army, and would meanwhile preserve the 
 country behind from the most horrible 
 devastation. He wished not, however, 
 to conceal the danger which attended it; 
 he wished that it should be voluntarily 
 encountered. My heart then misgave
 
 51 
 
 me, for I instantly saw how it would be. 
 Not a moment elapsed till the offer was 
 made by my friend : He sprung to em- 
 brace it, as if it had been the most brilliant 
 lot which man could offer. The inevi- 
 table danger was unseen, unfelt; he saw 
 only, that if he could do it, Cashmire 
 was saved. I perceived a struggle in the 
 soul of Zamri. He looked and hovered, 
 as unwilling to seal so hard a doom ; 
 still looked around, as if for some less 
 costly sacrifice. The offer was made; 
 none followed : there was no other hope 
 for Cashmire. At length, in a tone of 
 mingled grief and admiration, he gave 
 his consent. 
 
 Such, my illustrious friend, such is the 
 fate which impends over him whom 
 you so anxiously reared, and to whose 
 manhood you looked forward with such 
 high and well-founded hopes. All our 
 consolation is, that he will not have 
 perished without leaving behind some
 
 52 
 
 monument worthy of him. Brilliant in- 
 deed, though most short, will have been 
 his career : Nations will share the sacred 
 sorrow. Zamri, I say it with sad plea- 
 sure, feels all the greatness of the sacri- 
 fice he is making. 
 
 Corasmin has not one moment to spare 
 from his country ; he cannot write, even 
 to you. I enclose some short directions, 
 dictated by tender anxiety for his friends, 
 which will, I presume, be received as a 
 law by all to whom they relate. He ad- 
 dresses them to you, as to his first earth- 
 ly benefactor. Farewell ; a solemn fare- 
 well ! 
 
 I
 
 63 
 
 From the Same to the Same. 
 
 To you, who must feel the most eager 
 interest, I hasten to communicate all 
 that has happened since the eventful 
 moment when I last wrote. Cornsmin, 
 having offered himself for so perilous a 
 service, received full permission to select 
 his instruments. He accordingly assem- 
 bled his own troops, and communicated 
 to them this new destination. Seeing 
 many not a little stunned by the intelli- 
 gence, he addressed them at some length. 
 He represented the high honour of being 
 called to a service so important, and the 
 vast advantages which wotdd result from 
 their successfully performing it. Their
 
 54 
 
 superiority over the enemy had now been 
 proved; and, notwithstanding what was 
 said of the weakness of the fortress, their 
 valour, he trusted, would maintain it 
 much longer than was expected ; and 
 even till a new army should come to 
 relieve it. With what veneration would 
 their name be pronounced throughout 
 Cashmire, when it should be known that 
 they had arrested the progress of the 
 barbarians, and preserved so great a part 
 of it from devastation ! Yet they were 
 well aware that this was no easy or or- 
 dinary service : If any, therefore, were 
 desirous of shunning it, they were not 
 only permitted, but exhorted to do so. 
 After this speech every symptom of fear 
 vanished ; all strove which should be 
 foremost to express their ardour in the 
 cause, and their resolution never to de- 
 sert their commander. Many brave men 
 from the neighbouring regiments then 
 voluntarily offered their services, and
 
 OD 
 
 were placed under the command of Co- 
 rasmin ; so that he soon found himself at 
 the head of a body, in which he could 
 place the utmost confidence. 
 
 All these arrangements were made in 
 haste, on account of the close pressure of 
 the enemy behind ; and, when they were 
 completed, Corasmin had merely time 
 to throw himself into the fortress. I 
 need scarcely tell you that I was among 
 his followers. I could not myself have 
 soared to that height, but he supported 
 me : Him I could never desert. Thus we 
 buried ourselves in that living tomb. 
 The troops had hitherto been supported 
 by the sympathy of their comrades, by 
 the applauses of the whole army; but 
 the trial now came^ Our forces rapidly 
 disappeared, till not a Cashmirian ensign 
 was seen in the farthest distance. Then 
 were heard wild shouts and barbarous 
 music : the vast tide now began to flow, 
 and soon an ocean was rolled around us.
 
 ^- 56 
 
 At that sight we heheld many a cheek 
 tinged with the hue of despair. It must 
 be instantly banished. Corasmin repeat- 
 ed all his former arguments, ran from 
 post to post, presenting every-where an 
 undaunted countenance : In fine, he re- 
 minded them, that exertions the most 
 extraordinary were now, to them, not 
 glory only, but the sole hope of safety. 
 It was only by a zeal and activity, yet 
 unexampled, that they could now either 
 serve their country or save themselves. 
 
 Meantime the enemy's whole force 
 was round us, and formed a circle of 
 immeasurable depth on every side. It 
 was easy to read in their countenan- 
 ces an expression of contempt, and of 
 rage, that their progress should be ar- 
 rested by so feeble an obstacle. Their 
 first attempt was to carry the place at 
 once by a general assault; but this pro- 
 ject was calculated only upon the suppo- 
 sition of panic in the garrison : It was
 
 ^7 
 
 completely repulsed. They then found 
 it necessary to wait till a breach could 
 be effected. Their commander chose 
 \vith skill the part of the wall which 
 was most vulnerable : all their machines 
 were then brought forward, and began 
 to beat against it with incessant fury. 
 Our commander foresaw, that in a few 
 days a breach must be effected ; and, 
 unless some extraordinary means of de- 
 fence were employed, the place must fall. 
 He conceived the project of raising a 
 new wall, which, when the present should 
 give way, might supply its place. The 
 means seemed scarcely adequate ; yet 
 this only impelled him to more ardent 
 exertions. He set the example of join- 
 ing himself in the humblest part of the 
 labour; and when materials were wanted, 
 caused his own house to be first demo- 
 lished. 
 
 Meanwhile the operations of the ene- 
 my were advancing, and, on the fifth 
 c 3
 
 5S 
 
 day of the siege, they judged the time 
 to be come for a general assault. Accord- 
 ingly, on the morning of that day, they 
 brought forward a machine more power- 
 ful than any yet employed, and drove it 
 with such force against the wall, that a 
 great part of it was instantly thrown 
 down. The barbarians rushed on with 
 shouts of triumph, eager to sacrifice the 
 whole garrison to their fury. Then it 
 was that they beheld the new wall rising 
 behind, and were overwhelmed with a 
 shower of darts thrown from it. Struck 
 with astonishment and consternation, 
 they instantly turned their backs. The 
 garrison presently sallied out, pursued 
 them to a considerable distance, and 
 destroyed or carried oif most of the ma- 
 chinery employed in the attack. 
 
 An important respite was thus obtain- 
 ed ; yet, in process of time the enemy's 
 machines were restored, and their opera- 
 tions began to proceed with the same
 
 69 
 
 ardour as before. They were now carried 
 on from different quarters at once ; and 
 from this circumstance, as well as from 
 the want of materials, it was impossible 
 to think of our former mode of frustrat- 
 ing them. From being divided, how- 
 ever, they necessarily became less vigor- 
 ous, and all our efforts were directed to 
 protract the resistance as long as possi- 
 ble. Every day, and sometimes oftener, 
 the enemy made an attack on three or 
 four different points : it was then ne- 
 cessary for Corasmin, multiplying him- 
 self, as it were, to fly from post to post, 
 and to be present every-where at the 
 same moment. The enthusiastic attach- 
 ment of the garrison, as well as the ju- 
 dicious directions which he gave, made 
 his presence produce always a wonderful 
 effect. He touched the springs which 
 move vulgar passions ; feeling that, in 
 this his country's extremity, every in- 
 strument must be called to its aid.
 
 60 
 
 Could any one strike a blow at that 
 chieftain, who now exhibited himself 
 in a manner so insulting? Could they 
 sweep off some of the plumes which this 
 cohort so ostentatiously displayed ? The 
 enemy supposed that they had mere boys 
 to contend with ; they must be taught a 
 different lesson. With an air of high 
 and occult wisdom, which he knew 
 would sink deeper than any argument, 
 he foretold, that ere long the pride of 
 the foe would be humbled. By urging 
 them to perpetual activity, by keeping 
 the passions always awake, he veiled 
 from their eyes the fate which now 
 darker and darker impended : For barrier 
 after barrier gave way ; the work of des- 
 truction advanced witli a rapidity which 
 no speed could repair. Corasmin began 
 to revolve dreadful thoughts of what 
 was to be done, when the utmost extre- 
 mity came; how, in death as in life, to 
 do the utmost for his countrv : whether
 
 61 
 
 to bury himself in the ruins, with a 
 mighty destruction of the enemy ; or 
 whether, penetrating their ranks, to save 
 at least a remnant of his gallant band. 
 Just, however, as despair began to reach 
 its height, a sentinel stationed on the 
 top of a watch-tower gave notice, that 
 he had descried Cashmirian ensigns pass- 
 ing over the summit of a neighbouring 
 mountain. On ascending, they were no 
 more to be seen ; yet the confidence 
 placed in the reporter induced us to wait 
 patiently for another day. Soon after, 
 an assault was made by the enemy on all 
 sides, and was continued for several hours 
 with the utmost fury. The fortress was 
 repeatedly in the most imminent danger; 
 nor was it without prodigious efforts, 
 and the loss of many brave men, that 
 the enemy were at length repulsed. It 
 was evident that we could not stand the 
 repetition of such an assault. Soon, how- 
 ever, we were surprised by observing in
 
 6S 
 
 the enemy's camp an extraordinary ac- 
 tivity, which did not appear to be direct- 
 ed against us. It continued till towards 
 evening, when that part of the circle 
 which was on the side of Cashmire open- 
 ed, and, spreading on both sides, formed 
 an extensive line behind the fortress. 
 The army then, forming itself into co- 
 lumns, marched towards the north, and 
 proceeded for some time in that direc- 
 tion, after which we beheld them halt 
 and pitch their tents. Immediately 
 after, from an opposite quarter, the Cash- 
 mirian army burst upon our view, with 
 music sounding, and all its ensigns wav- 
 ing. Doubts and fears now vanished, 
 and were succeeded by ecstasies of joy 
 and triumph. We marched out to meet 
 our countrymen, and were received in a 
 manner the most gratifying. The con- 
 gratulations which poured in from every 
 side, the meeting of comrades who ex- 
 pected never to have met again, all ren-
 
 63 
 
 dered this a delightful scene. On pass- 
 ing to the tent of tlie commander in 
 chief, we were struck with a superior 
 degree of order and discipline to that 
 which formerly prevailed. This was ex- 
 plained when we discovered, that the 
 place was now held by Zamri. In this 
 crisis of danger, his acknowledged merit, 
 prevailing over intrigue and favour, had 
 raised him to that high situation. He 
 gave us the most gratifying reception, 
 and received from Corasmin a full ac- 
 count of the manner in which the siege 
 had been conducted. Having learned 
 also the names of those who had pecu- 
 liarly distinguished themselves, he ex- 
 pressed to them, in the most handsome 
 manner, his sense of their gallant con- 
 duct, adding liberal promises of promo- 
 tion. 
 
 I must now conclude this long letter, 
 of which, however, I am not afraid of 
 your having tired. — Thus has your young
 
 64 
 
 friend been recalled to life, and to the 
 enjoyment of the glory so dearly earned. 
 As for myself, I can claim no other merit 
 than that unalterable adherence to his 
 fortunes, by which my conduct, I trust, 
 will ever be guided. 
 
 CORASMIN to AlTUNO. 
 
 My dear Friend, — The approbation 
 expressed in your last letter gratifies me 
 most highly; but, indeed, I cannot but 
 think that you have been too lavish of 
 your praise. To have had an opportu- 
 nity of doing thus much for my country, 
 is doubtless a singular felicity. But 
 what have I done which was not dictat-
 
 65 
 
 ed by the simplest duty ? When Cash- 
 mire saw her existence in danger, could 
 there be a thought, a passion, but how- 
 to save her ? Who would not devote all 
 his feeble efforts to prop the tottering 
 fabric? and if, which I trust will never 
 be, the destined period of her fate should 
 come, who would not fall along with 
 her? But fortune placed me in a post 
 on which the common safety depended, 
 and was I to shrink ? Is there a man 
 that, so placed, would have acted other- 
 wise? Even now I recollect many things 
 which I might have done, and did not 
 do at the critical moment ; and which, 
 had not fortune, or the activity of our 
 commander, repaired them, might have 
 seriously injured our cause. 
 
 Never was there a friendship so faith- 
 ful, so devoted as that of Fazil. I la- 
 mented the dangers into which it drew 
 him, rather following me than led by a 
 native impulse. But these common
 
 66 
 
 perils through which we have passed, 
 must render the tie between us more 
 than ever indissoluble. 
 
 Fazil to Altuno. 
 
 Since I wrote you last no important mi- 
 litary event has taken place ; nor, indeed, 
 is any likely to occur immediately. On 
 considering the impression of terror which 
 still remains from our late overthrow, 
 Zamri judges it most expedient, till that 
 be worn off, to avoid a new action. 
 Corasmin is now in high favour with 
 him, and has received an appointment, 
 by which he is retained constantly near 
 his person. He is employed, consulted
 
 67 
 
 upon all occasions ; and experience has 
 peculiarly qualified him for giving aid 
 and advice in the species of warfare 
 which is now pursued. The general, 
 however, is careful no longer to expose, 
 as formerly, a life of which he now knows 
 the full value. He employs him chiefly 
 in contriving schemes, in giving direc- 
 tions, and allows him not to execute, un- 
 less where something of real importance 
 is to be done. 
 
 There are some other respects in which 
 our general may derive valuable aid from 
 his young friend. In all essential parti- 
 culars his character rises with more in- 
 timate knowledge. But his manners are 
 somewhat reserved and haughty, ill cal- 
 culated for gaining the affections of the 
 army. In the infliction of punishment 
 or censure, he is rather too rigid; always 
 correct in his own conduct, he makes 
 not sufficient allowance for any failure 
 in others. It were desirable that he
 
 68 
 
 could soften this extreme severity, and 
 acquire a little more affability and cour- 
 tesy. Thus, Corasmin finds frequent oc- 
 casion to intercede in favour of those 
 who appear to him guilty only of venial 
 errors. Yet he himself is not wholly 
 exempt from odium, consequent on his 
 present elevation. As he remains, how- 
 ever, the same to all, and has assumed 
 no airs of haughty superiority, this sen- 
 timent is confined to a few. 
 
 Fazil to Altuno. 
 
 Again we are on the eve of great 
 events. The discipline and courage of 
 the troops are now raised to such a
 
 69 
 
 pitch, while those of the enemy have 
 been visibly lowered, that Zamri con- 
 ceives a grand attack may be safely ha- 
 2arded. All is busy in preparation; the 
 different posts are assigned to each, and 
 a very few days will elapse till all the 
 fortunes of Cashmire are again commit- 
 ted to this issue. I look forward with a 
 mixture of exultation and dread to this 
 contest, and to the part which my friend 
 is to act : for well I know that he will 
 shun no danger, will consider no effort, 
 no risk of his as great, if it can at 
 all contribute to ensure success. Mean- 
 while, the camp is full of animation and 
 hope; and every thing seems to augur 
 a happier issue to the present than to 
 the former contest.
 
 70 
 
 CORASMIN to AlTUNO. 
 
 The high-raised expectations indulged 
 when you last heard from us, have not 
 been fulfilled. Just as we were march- 
 ing to battle, confident of victory, and 
 in the full glow of military ardour, our 
 <^areer was arrested by peace. The enemy 
 had asked peace, and obtained it. This 
 intelligence has diffused through the 
 camp a general gloom. It has annihila- 
 ted our promised triumph, and has blast- 
 ed those hopes of glory and promotion, 
 which many were fondly indulging. I 
 think I can even discern through the veil 
 of a dignified silence, that Zamri is some- 
 what chagrined at the stop thus put to
 
 71 
 
 his prosperous career. I believe him ready 
 to prefer the national good to every pri- 
 vate consideration ; but, bred to arms 
 from early youth, he has been accustomed 
 to view every object as subordinate to 
 mihtary success ; and he had formed the 
 most sanguine expectations of that which 
 we were on the eve of obtaining. 
 
 For myself I had my hopes too, and 
 felt, I confess, somewhat damped by the 
 first tidings. On a short consideration, 
 however, my views changed greatly. I 
 do not find that the terms can be stig- 
 matized as injurious or dishonourable; 
 nor that serious danger can ensue from 
 this peace being granted. I see none, 
 then, but happy consequences likely to 
 flow from it. I cannot forbear to join 
 in the general joy which it will diffuse 
 throughout Cashmire ; nor can lament 
 over that which will make thousands 
 happy, and will spare so many scenes of 
 bloodshed and calamity.
 
 72 
 
 This event will make a great change 
 in my own situation ; but I have had 
 no time as yet to think of such a subject. 
 
 From the Same to the Saine. 
 
 We are still encamped, and will so 
 continue, until the enemy shall have en- 
 tirely withdrawn. Great part of the 
 army is now about to be disbanded ; but 
 Zamri has offered to secure my continu- 
 ance, and even my further promotion. 
 But, as the immediate call for military 
 exertion has ceased, my views are no 
 longer the same. Now that my country 
 is saved, there is nothing to lure me to 
 fields of carnage. I may now hope to
 
 73 
 
 benefit mankind in a manner more direct 
 and more pleasing. My first hopes and 
 wishes revive; and the present moment 
 seems favourable for their fulfilment. I 
 have communicated these views to Zam- 
 ri ; but to him, in whose eyes no life, 
 unless a military one, has any attrac- 
 tions, they appeared altogether surpris- 
 ing. '' What!" said he, " after so bril- 
 liant an opening, when you were rapid- 
 ly rising to the height of military ho- 
 nours, when you might aspire to fill the 
 highest commands, thus to stop short; 
 suddenly to descend into a more inglo- 
 rious station ! I cannot reconcile it to 
 my idea of your character. Surely you 
 will think a second time, before you 
 fix such a resolution." Nothing of all 
 this, however, had any effect in changing 
 my intention, and I endeavoured, though 
 without success, to make him feel the 
 force of my reasons. However, seeing 
 me immoveable, he said, " Well, at all 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 74. 
 
 events you may depend upon me as your 
 friend : Since such is your choice, I will 
 exert myself to fulfil it." 
 
 I have written also to my uncle, and 
 wait, with some anxiety, to hear his views 
 on the subject; since, were they unfa- 
 vourable, considerable obstacles would 
 be opposed to the fulfilment of my 
 views. 
 
 Froin the Same to the Saine. 
 
 I RECEIVED the enclosed from my 
 uncle. He has viewed the subject in a 
 light which I did not precisely either 
 intend or expect. However, he is dispos- 
 ed to act a friendly part, and with thi« 
 I may rest satisfied.
 
 75 
 
 CaBULI to CORASMIN. 
 
 You write me, that you wish to pro- 
 ceed no farther in your military career, 
 but rather to exchange it for some civil 
 employment. Well, I am not sure that 
 you judge wrong. The prospects of ad- 
 vancement are fully as good in one line 
 as in the other. Besides, I believe you 
 will find yourself to have acted not un- 
 wisely in attaching yourself to me, 
 rather than to any other person who 
 might be disposed to forward you in the 
 world. My influence at court is at least 
 as great. Whoever is favoured by me, 
 will, I believe, have himself to blame if 
 he does not rise to something* Zamri
 
 76 
 
 merely got forward, because at the mo- 
 ment they could not do without him; 
 but it will not last: he does not under- 
 stand the art of establishing himself at 
 <;ourt. I will get you a place. But this 
 ^Biewipourse requires -more caution and 
 f circumspection ; more regard to com- 
 ^ mon rules, and the maxims of expe- 
 rience. Hereafter, however, I will have 
 opportunities of explaining myself to 
 you at full length upon this subject. 
 
 Cora SM IN to Altuno. 
 
 I AM now returned to the capital, and 
 reside, in compliance with a pressing in- 
 vitation, with Zingani. I have no doubt,
 
 11 
 
 through the influence of my uncle and 
 of my newly acquired friends, of being 
 soon in the situation I wish for. Nor 
 am I at all impatient for the arrival of 
 that period, but rather solicitous to ob^ 
 tain a further iwt^rval, for qualifying 
 myself to fulfil its duties. You know 
 this study not to be new to me ; but I 
 possess here some superior advantages 
 for pursuing it. I can converse with 
 men who know all its practicarWkletails; 
 who can give me a variety of important 
 information, not formerly Within my 
 reach. Above all, I enjoy the socii ' 
 of two friends, united in sentiments 
 pursuit, and with whom I can exchaiWe!^ 
 ideas on every subject without resef 
 I have now been introduced to a thirJ 
 whose friendship, if not quite so pleas- 
 ing, is equally valuable.. His name is 
 Actemad. He possesses neither the bril- 
 liancy of Alvanda, nor the elegance of 
 Zingani. His is a firm, steady, and use-
 
 78 
 
 ful character; excellent above all for the 
 details of business, and for obtaining 
 correct raformation on matters of fact. 
 He fails chiefly in extensive views, and 
 in suiting his conduct to sudden emer- 
 gencies. Most of his intellectual de- 
 fects, however, are balanced by opposite 
 qualities in the other two; — thus they 
 mutually correct and improve each other. 
 To escape occasionally from the tumult 
 and interruptions of the capital, we have 
 secured in common a small rural resi- 
 dence, entirely withdrawn from the pub- 
 lic eye, and which looks only over the 
 plain of Cashmire, and the awful range 
 of mountains beyond. Here we can 
 live in perfect freedom, can compare our 
 ideas on every subject, can revolve every 
 thing connected with public virtue and 
 human happiness. What a near ap- 
 proach to heaven ! That public good, 
 which is elsewhere only language, is 
 here, interest, passion : all subjects re-
 
 lating to it are treated with that tem- 
 pered warmth, which the sole love of 
 truth inspires. If differences of opinion, 
 which cannot but occur, become occa- 
 sionally warm, still the common senti- 
 ments from which they arise, the mu- 
 tual attachment with which they are 
 combined, check them ere they reach 
 any painful height. Meanwhile, fancy 
 dresses every interval in glowing colours, 
 and nature spreads all her enchantments 
 around. Day after day rolls on, and 
 finds us still there. 
 
 Fazil to Altuno, 
 
 I AM happy to inform you that Coras- 
 min is now in a situation such as he
 
 80 
 
 wished, and which he will fill, I trust, 
 with great public advantage. It is one 
 of considerably greater importance than 
 we had anticipated; and such as his 
 anxious reflection on its duties almost 
 leads him to shrink from. His uncle 
 takes the entire merit of the appoint- 
 ment, and certainly has some ; but I 
 have reason to believe the interference 
 of other friends to have been very active 
 and effectual. The duties attached to it 
 consist in the superintendence of a dis- 
 trict, which lies about ten or twelve 
 leagues from the metropolis. It is an 
 office to which various and extensive 
 authority is attached ; subordinate, in 
 the provinces, to the governor, but here 
 immediately to the sovereign. It is one, 
 in short, where there is much to do, and 
 where much good may be done. 
 
 Corasmin has already been congratu- 
 lated by his three friends, who have 
 agreed to accompany, and spend a few
 
 81 
 
 clays with him at his new residence. He 
 is now busily employed in acquiring that 
 local and particular information, which 
 forms an indispensable preparation for 
 his new employment. 
 
 CaBULT to CORASMIN. 
 
 Well, my dear Nephew, you find I 
 have kept my word. You have got a 
 place ; one fully as considerable, too, as 
 you probably expected. Now, it really 
 is time for me to give you some serious 
 advice. You have played a deep game. 
 I know not that I could quite have ad- 
 vised you to it; however, it has succeed- 
 d3
 
 82 
 
 etl, and I congratulate you. You have 
 laid in a stock of reputation, which will 
 materially help you forward. Your pre- 
 sent situation is very different : there is 
 an absolute necessity, now, for acting 
 like an inhabitant of this world. Yoa 
 must lay aside romantic and college no- 
 tions, and must do as all others do in 
 your place. Your friends have placed 
 you in an excellent situation, where, with 
 any prudence and management at all, 
 you may raise a fine fortune, even though 
 it should never lead to any thing higher. 
 Only consider what your predecessor has 
 made of it : An excellent, prudent man ! 
 I hope to see you treading in his foot- 
 steps. What if some idle murmurs were 
 raised against him in his district ! these 
 never reached the court, nor ever, that 
 I could learn, occasioned him the small- 
 est inconvenience. It would be quite 
 endless, were one to be constantly listen- 
 ing to things of that nature. You, I
 
 83 
 
 trust, will never pay the smallest atten- 
 tion to them. 
 
 CORASMIN to AlTUNO. 
 
 Much indeed, much more than I had 
 originally contemplated, is here to be 
 done. Some affairs there are, which lie 
 not within my controul, in which I am 
 only an instrument; and if I disapprove, 
 it must be in silence. But the greater 
 part of what I lament is within my own 
 power to correct. At first, though it 
 was easy to see that affairs went on ill, 
 it was difficult to penetrate into the real 
 causes. By degrees I succeeded in lift- 
 ing the veil. I found that oppression, 
 in many instances, had been formed into
 
 84 
 
 a system : the Crown was defrauded, yet 
 the people suffered. Arbitrary measures 
 and exactions were frequent, against any 
 who had given offence to those in power, 
 or even who had only the crime of being 
 opulent. The people thus lost all mo- 
 tives to exertion ; they sunk into indo- 
 lence and apathy. It was impossible to 
 eradicate at once evils so extensive, and 
 so deeply rooted. I have begun by pro- 
 hibiting those abuses which are most fla- 
 grant, and cannot be defended even by 
 those who commit them. Strenuous op- 
 position is made ; every inch of ground 
 fiercely disputed ; but I am fortunately 
 possessed of authority sul^cient to render 
 all resistance unavailing. 
 
 On my arrival I was received with os- 
 tentatious demonstrations of joy, beyond 
 what, considering the little that was 
 known of me, it was easy to give credit 
 to. Much and eager court was paid; yet 
 was it easy to see, that I met no real
 
 85 
 
 welcome ; that by the majority I was re- 
 garded only as a new vulture, that came 
 to fatten on their spoils. This judg- 
 ment, I believe, has somewhat changed : 
 By most, I now find myself regarded as 
 a friend. Yet I see with pain, what in- 
 deed you warned me to expect, that in 
 a course of active duty, enmity, bitter 
 enmity, must be encountered. I see well 
 that I have enemies, and why ; and all 
 my care must be to guard against afford- 
 ing them any real cause of hostility. 
 
 Fazil to Altuno. 
 
 The fruit of Corasmin's labours is now 
 becoming visible. The people begin to 
 breathe, industry to revive, and a gene-
 
 86 
 
 ral satisfaction to diffuse itself. On the 
 other hand, so little is this relief afforded 
 at the expense of the Crown, that he 
 will be able to transmit to the treasury a 
 sum considerably larger than has hither- 
 to been usual. This must surely silence 
 all the insinuations of his enemies ; for 
 enemies he has, as well as sage friends, 
 who shake their heads, and foretel, that 
 no good will come of all that he is do- 
 ing. Cabuli, above all, gives frequent 
 advices to stop, and pursue a different 
 course. But Cora.^min has not taken a 
 single step which it is possible to re- 
 trace ; and if, for a certain interval, he 
 suspends his operations, he does so, not 
 from any personal apprehension, but be- 
 cause public advantage forbids all chan- 
 ges but such as are moderate and gradual. 
 Whatever, therefore, the consequence 
 may be, and I trust the sinistrous augu- 
 ries now made are without foundation, 
 he goes on, and calmly expects it.
 
 87 
 
 Cabuli to Altuno. 
 
 You, who are so much Corasmin's 
 friend, I apply to, in order to induce 
 him, if possible, to change his present 
 conduct. It is enough to say, that it is 
 not such as I can at all approve, or ex- 
 pect any but the worst consequences 
 from. A very judicious friend of mine, 
 who lives near him, writes me, that he 
 does not appear to understand his busi- 
 ness at all. He employs himself about 
 matters of no consequence, and that 
 were much better omitted. He offends 
 the persons whom he ought most to 
 court, in order to please others that can 
 be of no use to him whatever. But the
 
 83 
 
 misfortune is, he never communicates 
 with me on any one subject ; follows 
 always his own plan ; and whatever ad- 
 vice I give is indeed politely received, 
 but never adopted. His comrades, who, 
 I once thought, might have been credit- 
 able and useful to him, have proved the 
 very worst he could possibly have select- 
 ed : They encourage him, I understand, 
 in all his foolish proceedings. In short, 
 you may rest assured, that, unless he 
 changes his plan, and follows the advice 
 of wiser heads, he will do no good. I 
 cannot answer how soon he may feel the 
 consequences.
 
 89 
 
 CORASMIN to AlTUNO. 
 
 I HAVE long been accustomed to make 
 you the confidant, both uf my prosperous 
 and adverse fortune. It is the latter 
 which I have now to communicate. This 
 will be best done by sending you a copy 
 of two letters which I have received, 
 immediately following each other. The 
 first is from my friend Zingani, 
 
 '^ My dear Friend, — I need not say 
 "• how sorry I am to be the messenger of 
 " ill news. You arc no stranger to the 
 " intrigues carried on by those whose in- 
 " terests your late measures have thwart- 
 " ed. But though these had greater sue-
 
 90 
 
 " cess than they merited, they would 
 '* not, I am persuaded, have fully attain- 
 ** ed their object, but for an event which 
 ** ought to have entirely frustrated them, 
 " — I mean, the largeness of your late 
 " remittance into the treasury. All who 
 " are in the same situation have taken 
 " the alarm : they think that yours will 
 " be the standard by which their contri- 
 " butions will be measured : they judge it 
 ** necessary to crush you. What are the 
 " methods employed I cannot fully trace, 
 " but I know that the royal ear is power* 
 " fully assailed. They appeal to the nu- 
 " merous complaints made against you, 
 " which cannot, it is alleged, be all with- 
 " out foundation. " If," say they, *' you 
 " place him in a battle, he can fight ; but- 
 " for his present situation he is wholly 
 " unfit." In short, nothing less is now 
 " talked of than your immediate remo- 
 *' val. We, of course, are doing every 
 " thing in our power ; but how difficult
 
 '' is it for truth to penetrate through 
 " such a phalanx of fierce and powerful 
 " enemies. — I have just met your uncle, 
 " who said he was about to write, and 
 " point out a mode by which you might 
 " completely extricate yourself. My 
 " doubts are great, whether his plan 
 ** will be such as you will be disposed to 
 " adopt. I heartily wish you better suc- 
 " cess than I am afraid is promised by 
 '' the present aspect of affairs.'* 
 
 Accordingly, not long after, I receiv- 
 ed the following from my uncle : — '* I anv 
 " disposed to make every allowance for 
 " your youth and inexperience ; nor do 
 " I entirely disapprove the attempt you 
 '* have made to distinguish yourself. The 
 " truth is, however, that it has not suc- 
 " ceeded at all, but has made such an 
 " addition to the enemies whom you had 
 " already taken care to raise up, as you 
 " will find it quite impossible to resist.
 
 99, 
 
 " unless by an immediate change of con- 
 " duct. I cannot otherwise answer for 
 " your remaining another day in your 
 " present situation. You had better, 
 " therefore, give up any new and extra- 
 ■' ordinary means of advancement, and 
 " content yourself with getting forward 
 " as your predecessors have done. The 
 " Crown will be perfectly satisfied with 
 " receiving as much as it has foimerly 
 ** been accustomed to. On the other 
 " hand, if those under you take too much 
 "from the people, you can make them 
 " feel the necessity of allowing you to 
 " come in for a share. My advice there- 
 " fore is, that without delay you endea- 
 " vour to make up matters with them, 
 " and I will attempt to perform the same 
 " office for you at court," 
 
 My answers were as follow; first to 
 my friend : — " I am much obliged to you 
 " for informing me of the dangers with
 
 93 
 
 " which I am threatened. I see nothing 
 " that I can do. The practices which I 
 " have suppressed were such as it was 
 " utterly impossible to overlook, far less 
 " to sanction. I intend, therefore, to 
 " go on as before, and wait with tran- 
 " quillity the issue. I cannot have a 
 " doubt, that every service in your 
 '^ power will be rendered to me by you 
 " and my other friends." 
 
 The other, to my uncle : — 
 
 " I am much indebted to you for your 
 ^' advice, and the services which you 
 " offer to render me. But I had taken 
 " no measures which did not appear to 
 '' be my indispensable duty, and there- 
 *' fore I cannot possibly recede. My 
 *^ aim, in entering into public life, was 
 " to be useful to the public : If this can- 
 " not be fulfilled, I am perfectly willing 
 '* to return to a private station."
 
 94! 
 
 I have since received an answer, in 
 which he says, that he can do nothing 
 for me, unless I do something for myself ; 
 and that, without an immediate change 
 of conduct, I must inevitably fall a vic- 
 tim to my own infatuation. Having no 
 intention of making any such change, 
 there remains no prospect but of imme- 
 diate removal 
 
 Fazil to Altuno. 
 
 The anticipations of Corasmin were 
 well founded. He was not long of re- 
 ceiving an intimation, that his services 
 would be dispensed with, and that a suc- 
 cessor had been already appointed. He
 
 95 
 
 received it with calmness and constancy, 
 and with a sorrow which evidently arose 
 only from reflecting on those from whom 
 iiis protection was to be withdrawn. The 
 persons in office waited upon him with 
 a few formal expressions of regret; 
 through which it was easy to discover 
 their secret joy. Few of the other in- 
 habitants ventured fully to express their 
 feelings; but their deep silence, a variety 
 of quiet unnoticed attentions, sufficiently 
 testified, that his departure was to them 
 matter of. real sorrow. 
 
 It was understood, and indeed half in- 
 timated, that the new superintendant, 
 and his supporters, rather expected Co- 
 rasmin to take his departure previous to 
 the arrival of his successor. But this 
 hint, though meant perhaps in kind- 
 ness, he entirely rejected. " No," said 
 he, " I will not steal off, as if ashamed 
 or guilty; I will go suitably, and as I 
 ought. I must deliver the affairs into
 
 96 
 
 his hands entire, and give all the requi- 
 site information. I will perform this 
 painful duty." He waited accordingly. 
 But on the day previous to the announc- 
 ed arrival, an alarm was spread, of such 
 a ferment having arisen in the minds of 
 the inhabitants, as gave reason to appre- 
 hend that some tumult might take place. 
 Corasmin felt extreme anxiety at this 
 rumour : not a moment was to be lost m 
 providing against such an event. He 
 addressed himself to those whom he 
 knew to possess the chief influence over 
 the minds of the people. He inculcated 
 upon them the urgent necessity of exer- 
 tion, in order to prevent the slightest 
 symptom of what was dreaded. " I 
 leave you," said he, " with regret. I 
 should gladly have devoted myself long- 
 er to your welfare. I am gratified to 
 learn that you entertain similar senti- 
 ments ; but I shall measure the degree 
 of vour attachment by the entire absence
 
 97 
 
 to-morrow, of every disorder. That 
 power which has the sole right of ap- 
 pointing, formerly appointed me, now 
 another : there is no cause of complaint : 
 There will not, I trust, be heard even a 
 murmur ; your duty, your welfare, mi/ 
 welfare demands it/' Thus he bound 
 them, by the most solemn engagements, 
 not to exhibit even a preference. 
 
 Next day, accordingly, the expected 
 person arrived, and all passed as could 
 have been desired. The people were as- 
 sembled, and ranged in rows on each 
 side ; but it was evident how deep the 
 injunctions of Corasmin had sunk into 
 their minds. Not a sound was heard; but 
 how eloquent was that silence ! It was 
 easy for the new ruler to see, that there 
 was no welcome for him. When they 
 were together, Corasmin endeavoured, in 
 the manner least likely to revolt, to re- 
 commend some measures of evident ad- 
 vantage, which he hoped to have saved. 
 
 VOL. I. £
 
 9S 
 
 The other replied with a hasty and su- 
 perficial poHteness, then passed on to 
 another subject^ in a manner clearly to 
 intimate, that what had been the prac- 
 tice of his predecessor, was not likely to 
 be his. Corasmin saw, and desisted. 
 
 Cabuli to Coras MIX. 
 
 Well, my good sir, you now see that 
 I was not quite so much mistaken as you 
 imagined. I always told you to what 
 these high-sounding, impracticable no- 
 tions would lead ; instilled by one that 
 had quite forgotten the court, and life. 
 Had you been to pass your days like 
 him, in some wild retirement, they
 
 99 
 
 might have been harmless enough. But 
 for one who was introduced into the 
 world, in the high-road to fortune, they 
 were quite unsuitable. You see now to 
 what they have brought you. It was in 
 vain that I gave my advice, though per- 
 haps quite as likely to be good as that 
 of an old hermit, or a few headstrong 
 boys. I can do nothing for you now : 
 I see nothing you have left, but to re- 
 turn into the desert that I drew you out 
 of I promised certainly to make your 
 fortune, and fully intended it ; but al- 
 ways on condition of your following my 
 advice, which you cannot pretend to 
 have done in any degree. If you chuse 
 to spend a little time with me, before 
 your setting out, you will be welcome; 
 but possibly, after what has happened, 
 you may not be very fond of shewing 
 yourself in this metropolis.
 
 100 
 
 Cabuli to Altuno. 
 
 No doubt you have heard, by this 
 time, what has become of Corasmin : all 
 my pains on him have been lost. I wish 
 to explain to you, that it was not my 
 fault ; all that I could do was done : his 
 ruin is entirely his own work. Some 
 one had instilled into him extravagant, 
 impracticable notions, that no man in 
 the world could possibly get on with. 
 Who it was, I cannot say. You, with 
 whom he used to live so much, may 
 possibly form some conjecture. Had 
 the boy dropt me the slightest hint of 
 what he was meditating, I could instant- 
 ly have told him what would be the con-
 
 101 
 
 sequence. But, no; my first intelligence, 
 as usual, came after the evil had been 
 done. In short, you may rest assured 
 he is one of whom nothing whatever can 
 be made. 
 
 Altuno to Cabuli. 
 
 You may rest assured, that I impute 
 to you no blame whatever on the sub- 
 ject of Corasmin. Think as we may of 
 the prudence of his conduct, it will 
 never, I trust, injure him in the opinion 
 of any worthy man, or any friend to his 
 country. But the case, I flatter myself, 
 is not so desperate as you seem to appre- 
 hend. I trust that all will yet be well,
 
 102 
 
 and that his star will only shine brighter 
 from this transient eclipse. 
 
 AlTUNO to CORASMIN. 
 
 I CONGRATULATE, I aliTiost cnvy you 
 the opportunity of making so noble a 
 sacrifice to public virtue. Such an event 
 might indeed have been humbling; but 
 to suffer, because you adhered to your 
 duty to your king, and to those with 
 whose welfare he entrusted you, and 
 were guiltless towards those who sought 
 your downfall, — this is a lot than which 
 no higher could befall any mortal. I am 
 far prouder of my pupil, than if I had 
 seen him blazing in the highest splendor
 
 103 
 
 to wliich fortune could raise him. But 
 you speak of returning, and burying 
 yourself at Patala. No, you must not. 
 Because an unworthy combination has 
 prevailed ; because the gates of public 
 life are for the moment barred against 
 you, consider them not as shut for ever. 
 Think not yet of living for yourself 
 alone. You must not abandon Cash- 
 mire because she has wronged you. 
 There is nothing as yet to cancel her 
 claim to be the supreme object of your 
 affections. But diligently use this inter- 
 val, in preparing yourself for that des- 
 tiny, which, I trust, still awaits you* 
 Think you that to govern mankind is 
 an easy task ? A life, even long, were 
 still too short for preparation. Turn 
 not your views, then, to any ignobler 
 object ; but let those stores of indepen- 
 dent enjoyment which exist within you, 
 enable you to await with tranquillity 
 every issue.
 
 i04 
 
 CORASMIN to AlTUNO. 
 
 I COMPLY with your urgency, and that 
 of my friends, tliough still with reluc- 
 tance, even sorrow. I had felt the thorns 
 with which public life is so thickly set : 
 I enjoyed with new relish the liberty and 
 all the enjoyments of private life. Pleas- 
 ing was the prospect of a return to my 
 native shades, whither many a regretted 
 charm recalled me. Though I know well 
 all the zeal and activity of my friends, 
 my own expectations are small. But I 
 am anxious to convince myself and others, 
 that no feelings of disappointment and 
 mortified pride induce me to decline the 
 hope of serving my country. Not only
 
 105 
 
 then do I stay, but I have even made an 
 arrangement with my three friends, the 
 object of which is to qualify myself more 
 fully for such a station, should it ever 
 again become mine. We propose to 
 make a journey through Cashmire, parti- 
 cularly those provinces which we have 
 not yet visited. The information, both 
 general and individual, which such an 
 excursion must enable us to collect, may 
 probably be most important. I delay my 
 departure only till I shall have seen 
 Zamri, who is expected in town in a few 
 days. 
 
 I find myself now deserted by many 
 of those who paid court to my rising 
 fortunes. This is rather a cheerless ex- 
 perience, but it is valuable : I can now 
 distinguish between real and pretended 
 friends. Happily, among the former 
 have been found those on whose attach- 
 ment I placed the chief value. The 
 three with whom I had been peculiarly 
 E S
 
 106 
 
 united, have thoroughly stood the test, 
 From my uncle I had nothing to expect, 
 after having declined his advice, and 
 having lost that which formed his stan- 
 dard of merit. I have avoided, however, 
 coming to an open rupture with him. 
 
 Fazil to Altuno. 
 
 We are all much indebted to you, for 
 having aided so powerfully in dissuading 
 Corasmin from the plan, towards which 
 his inclination seemed strongly bent, of 
 retiring altogether from public life. My 
 expectations became every day more 
 sanguine. His glorious and unmerited 
 fall has rendered him the main hope of 
 all to whom justice, honour, and the
 
 107 
 
 interests of their country are dear; and 
 many such there are, even who breathe 
 this infected air. Nay, I speak with 
 confidence when I say, that the sove- 
 reign himself sacrifices only because he 
 does not know him. All this, I trust, 
 will one day be fully disclosed. 
 
 There is one circumstance which has 
 been the object of considerable and anxi- 
 ous interest ; — Zamri arrived. To this we 
 looked forward, in the full expectation 
 of receiving from him a very early visit. 
 It was not so : Not only did he not 
 visit his friend ; he even studiously, as 
 was evident, declined an interview. Was 
 he so thoroughly deceived by our ene- 
 mies, as to refuse even to hear a justifi- 
 cation ? or did he too change with chang- 
 ing fortune? We could not believe it, yet 
 still were anxious. At length Corasmiu 
 ])egan to consider the means of extorting 
 an explanation ; and we sat deliberating 
 upon this subject, when the door was
 
 108 
 
 thrown open, and Zamri himself appear- 
 ed. He came with outstretched arms, 
 and with an air of entire cordialit}^ ; then 
 addressed himself to Corasmin with a 
 warmth of friendship never before wit- 
 nessed. " You are probably surprised at 
 not having seen me; I know not even 
 what you are thinking ; but I had heard 
 much against you, and from many. I 
 did not believe it ; yet I wished, that 
 before we met there should not remain 
 the shghtest cloud to shade our ancient 
 cordiality. I have now fully examined 
 the subject : I do not acquit you only, 
 I applaud, I admire ! You may com- 
 mand my services, though, let me merely 
 observe, that had you remained with me 
 nothing of this nature could ever have 
 happened." It was evident that a gen- 
 tle reproach was insinuated ; but Coras- 
 min, while assenting to the observation, 
 did not enter into any discussion. In 
 short, they parted, with the fullest assur-
 
 109 
 
 ance from Zamri of his cordial good 
 offices. 
 
 His mind at ease upon this subject, my 
 friend lost no time in setting out with 
 Zingani and Actemad on their proposed 
 excursion. I determined, however, to 
 remain here, in order to watch over his 
 interests. Alvanda is also detained, which 
 I regard as fortunate, since he will be 
 at hand to render any services for which 
 there may be occasion. 
 
 CORASMIN to AlTUNO. 
 
 I HAVE completed my journey, which 
 was lengthened considerably beyond my 
 original intention. It gave rise to deep
 
 110 
 
 and various emotion; sometimes of un- 
 mixed pleasure, but chequered some- 
 times with very painful sensations. We 
 had access to all the means of informa- 
 tion, and were furnished with letters to 
 respectable and intelligent persons in 
 every quarter. Actemad has completely 
 the talent of collecting information ; — 
 Zingani, that of forming general views, 
 and suggesting various reflections upon 
 it. The different branches of industry, 
 the administration of justice, the man- 
 ners of the people, the means of public 
 instruction — these were the principal ob- 
 jects of our attention. We viewed the 
 situation of all ranks ; inquired into all 
 employments, how they were exercised, 
 and to what extent ; all the dealings of 
 the government with the people : we 
 tried them by the ascertained rules of 
 political wisdom. We then saw clearly 
 why the bounties of nature w^ere lavish- 
 ed in vain. Comparing the vast capaci-
 
 Ill 
 
 ties, the exuberant fertility of this plain, 
 with the sufferings of its inhabitants, the 
 most painful emotions arose. How cruel 
 to see man pining amid the lavish pro- 
 fusion of nature ! Oh ! that the sacred 
 envied power were ours, to redress these 
 wrongs, to make the oppressed reap the 
 hard fruits of their industry ! These fields 
 ravaged, not by foreign enemies, but by 
 inward maladies continually preying up- 
 on them, would then assume a new as- 
 pect. But tears and powerless wishes 
 are all I can bestow. 
 
 Thus, while we continued on the plain, 
 we obtained indeed useful lessons, but 
 much pain was mingled with our plea- 
 sure. But we concluded more happily, 
 with an excursion over that mighty 
 range by which Cash mi re is separated 
 from the regions of the south. Peace 
 seemed to revisit us, when, from the suf- 
 fering abodes of man, we ascended amid 
 the sublime forms of nature. At our
 
 112 
 
 first approach, beauty still predominated ; 
 green and glittering vales, 'and meander- 
 ing streams, like those of paradise, lay 
 reposing beneath the awful mountainous 
 shade. We proceeded, and the alpine 
 world received us into its bosom, and 
 nothing appeared but images of the rud- 
 est grandeur — the vast mountain-mass 
 ascending to the skies, with hills over 
 hills, and shaggy woods hanging from 
 its sides ; its summit crowned with 
 crowds of snowy pinnacles. Here, the 
 cleft rocks formed tremendous walls, 
 whose height the eye could not measure, 
 and strewed the ground with their scat- 
 tered fragments : There, the lengthened 
 cataract dashed from steep to steep, a 
 thousand fantastic rocks diversifying its 
 course. Hail ! awful, sacred scenes ! ever 
 shall my heart feel grateful for the tran- 
 quillity you restored to it. 
 
 In the few inhabitants of these seclud- 
 ed regions, there is nothing to damp the
 
 113 
 
 feelings which the scenery inspires. A 
 virtuous simplicity, an open hospitality, 
 even a liumble plenty, is to be found al- 
 most every-where in the mountain cot- 
 tages. We mounted to the highest pin- 
 nacle, whence a vast view opened over 
 the Indian plains ; then descended, not 
 without regret, and returned to Cash- 
 mire. 
 
 ZiNGANI to AlTUNO. 
 
 Events of the most important nature 
 hastened our return to the capital. — 
 
 Zamri had not been a forgetful or in- 
 dolent friend. Possessing, by his rank 
 and services, an access to the royal ear,
 
 114 
 
 he had never ceased urging the claims of 
 Corasmin, and representing the injustice 
 that had been done to him. His enemies 
 parried the attack as long as possible ; 
 but at length it was impossible to pre- 
 vent the king from insisting^ that a full 
 inquiry should be instituted. This was 
 an issue which they dreaded above all 
 others ; and, rather than expose them- 
 selves to it, they immediately changed 
 their ground. They had discovered the 
 entire innocence of Corasmin ; they 
 found themselves to have been wholly 
 misinformed; they would not only res- 
 tore him to his former situation, but give 
 him a higher. His friends, who desired 
 no more, had nothing left but to ac- 
 quiesce. The appointment now chosen 
 for him was one exercised in the capi- 
 tal, and immediately connected with the 
 general administration. Whether this 
 was selected by the ministers, as more 
 honourable, or as keeping him more im-
 
 115 
 
 mediately under their eye, I shall not 
 pretend to say. But he himself, on learn- 
 ing this new destination, objected to it, 
 as too high. " No," said he, '* I know 
 well there are details necessary to be 
 known, which can only be acquired by 
 passing through the inferior departments. 
 I must be placed in the step beneath, 
 and rise only as T become qualified for 
 a higher." I did not quite enter into 
 this reasoning. I represented, that even 
 supposing him not perfectly qualified, 
 the person who really would hold the 
 situation might probably be less so : 
 thus the public must gain by his accep- 
 tance. But he said, " Even allowing 
 what your partial friendship suggests to 
 be true, still I ought not, in violation of 
 the general rule, to push myself into 
 this situation. I ought not to aid in 
 establishing a precedent, which in itself 
 is pernicious." Those by whom he was 
 appointed were careful not to urge him
 
 116 
 
 too earnestly, and Zamri said, *' Well, 
 my friend, no doubt the best officers 
 rise from the ranks." 
 
 Corasmin is thus placed in the midst 
 of enemies : a situation sufficiently pam- 
 ful, and which might even deter others 
 from venturing into it. But he, firm to 
 his purpose, sees at least a limited share 
 of good which it will afford him the 
 means of performing ; and for this he 
 braves every opposite consideration. 
 
 Corasmin to Altuno. 
 
 I CONTINUE busily occupied with pub- 
 lic duties; and though my situation is not 
 without painful circumstances, I yet find
 
 iir 
 
 none absolutely to exclude the view with 
 which I entered it. Personally, I expe- 
 rience nothing but what is agreeable. 
 The society of my friends, the means of 
 information, occasional incursions into a 
 charming country, fill up, in the most 
 desirable manner, my intervals of lei- 
 sure. 
 
 My uncle and I are again on a friend- 
 ly footing. I can guess the cause; yet 
 the circumstance is gratifying to me. 
 He introduced me first into public life ; 
 he has always even been personally 
 friendly, so far as policy would permit. 
 Although, therefore, I am never likely 
 to give myself up to his direction, 1 am 
 yet gratified by the renewal of amicable 
 relations betwixt us.
 
 118 
 
 CORASMIN to AlTUNO. 
 
 So then, my friend, you return again 
 to that subject on which you formerly 
 touched ; again you are made to believe, 
 that, amid the first tumults of office, I 
 have fallen into the snares of love. You 
 mistake; yet this your friendly inquiry 
 gratifies me, since it testifies the warm 
 interest which you take in all my per- 
 sonal concerns and feelings. Most wil- 
 lingly, since you permit, since you invite, 
 will I make you my confidant in these, 
 as well as in higher mterests. Advice 
 even, which in those concerns is gene- 
 rally supposed to be so ill listened to,
 
 119 
 
 will not from you, I trust, be entirely 
 thrown away. 
 
 But say, first, whence have you drawn 
 your present surmise? who has told you 
 that I sigh at the feei of Dalinda? Never 
 were you more completely misinformed. 
 I cannot even recollect any reasonable 
 ground on which such a belief can rest. 
 Accident, and common acquaintance, 
 without my ever courting it, caused us 
 frequently to meet ; — then, indeed, the 
 united charm of beauty, wit, and bril- 
 liant animation, excited for the moment 
 a pleasure somewhat lively ; but it never 
 was one which struck deep, nor of which, 
 when absent, I longed for the repetition. 
 Had it been so, it were one from which 
 I should consider myself bound, by the 
 most imperious motives of public duty, 
 for ever to interdict myself No, my 
 friend, you know her not, otherwise you 
 never would wish her mine. Gay, 
 thoughtless, extravagant; one who exists 
 
 2
 
 no 
 
 only amid the flutter of public admira- 
 tion ; one, if I err not, who, in being the 
 wife of a minister, would consider only 
 that her levee would be crowded ; that 
 she would be at the source of favour, 
 and would be supplied with the means 
 of boundless expense: the mere creature, 
 in short, of vanity. My friend, it is not 
 a woman like this that must reign over 
 the heart of Corasmin. 
 
 I will now ownj that this is a subject 
 on which I have thought, and with some 
 anxiety. I feel wishes within me, point- 
 ing at such an union : I feel that a ten- 
 der friend at home might be a mighty 
 solace amid public care. But where 
 shall I find her with whom I could dare 
 to entrust my heart ? I must consider 
 this relation, not as it concerns myself 
 alone, but as it may affect those whose 
 welfare is made to depend upon me. 
 How great, in this view, are the evils in 
 which an otherwise promising connexion
 
 121 
 
 might involve me ! Qualities which 
 might render woman amiable in private 
 life, would altogether unfit for the des- 
 tiny to which I must associate her. A 
 mere indolent good-nature, an instinc- 
 tive kindness, an eagerness to serve those 
 whom she liked, and was in the habit of 
 seeing; such a disposition, amiable in 
 itself, precious to others, would to me 
 be an eternal bar. How cruel, when sur- 
 rounded by so many excitements to for- 
 get public and act only from private 
 motives, to have an internal foe always 
 to strive against; to be forced, from one 
 thus indissolubly united, to estrange my 
 most intimate and fondly cherisheil ideas; 
 to be exposed by vain extravagance to 
 the most unworthy temptations ! In 
 what misery ; nay, for who can be fully 
 assured of himself, in what guilt might 
 I be involved ? A perpetual struggle 
 must then be maintained between pri- 
 vate affection and public duty ; and 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 122 
 
 though at this moment I hope and trust 
 that the one would never come into 
 competition, yet, could I rest assured 
 that it would always be thus ? I must 
 guard my heart sevenfold against such 
 charms. My situation is perilous. I 
 cannot be insensible how many there are 
 to whom I myself might be nothing, y^t 
 to whom the situation I offer were ex- 
 tremely desirable. I may become the 
 prey of those who are most dexterous 
 in deception. I trust, indeed, I have 
 acquired some skill in discerning ge- 
 nuine feelings through the ostentatious 
 veil thrown over them. I sometimes 
 imagine myself for a moment to have 
 found what I sought ; but these first 
 flattering appearances soon disappear, 
 and my heart finds itself still alone. 
 
 Who, then, and what is she, after 
 whom I so vainly sigh ? She were one 
 to whom, as to another self, I could com- 
 municate my most secret sentiments^
 
 123 
 
 my hopes, my wishes for public happi- 
 ness; who would listen with an ardour 
 entirely congenial ; who, by sharing, 
 would raise them to a nobler height. 
 I seek one (and such I trust there are), 
 the love of whom might identify itself 
 with the general love of human nature. 
 -—Such a passion, instead of tending to 
 withdraw me from the patli on which I 
 have entered, would form a new barrier 
 to secure me within it. It were a prop 
 to lean on amid the storms of life ; *to 
 support me under the burden when it 
 threatened to become too heavy. In- 
 stead of sapping my determinations, it 
 would support them, if for a moment they 
 threatened to waver. — This, then, is rhe 
 being whom I have painted to myself, 
 and after whom my heart longs. True 
 it is, I have not yet found any such; 
 but I still seek, still hope.
 
 124 
 
 Fi^om the Same to the Same. 
 
 Your answer, with the opinion you 
 express of the sentiments contained in 
 my last letter, -are entirely agreeable to 
 me'. I have now something to commu- 
 nicate which I then dreamt not of. I 
 had known Maled, an old and respec- 
 table nobleman, who has lived in a re- 
 tired manner, at a small distance from 
 the capital. I had not visited him, 
 however, till two days ago, when I call- 
 ed on occasion of some business which I 
 had to arrange. While it was transact- 
 ing, a young lady, whom I had under- 
 stood to be his daughter, sat at the other 
 end of the roorp. Her face was turned
 
 l£5 
 
 from us, and she did not change her 
 posture ; but there was in her air, her 
 attitude, something which caused to me, 
 I knew not wliy, an extraordinary emo- 
 tion. I waited with impatience to see 
 more. When our conversation ended, 
 her father introduced me to her. She 
 turned : I was electrified ! Certainly I 
 had often seen beauty more brilliant and 
 imposing, but never such high and ex- 
 quisite thought, so tempered, so blended; 
 never features so rich with soul. That 
 moment seemed to open to me a new 
 world. She addressed me politely and 
 gracefully; while I, faltering and con- 
 fused, with difficulty returned an answer. 
 Maled asked me to remain, and I easily 
 suffered myself to be persuaded. Dur- 
 ing this visit my whole soul was em- 
 ployed in watching every word, every 
 look, every attitude; in studying the 
 effect produced by the various senti- 
 ments which arose in the course of con
 
 1£6* 
 
 versation : I listened with trembling ea- 
 gerness to every accent. She maintain- 
 ed a mild and dignified reserve, which a 
 timidity that I could not overcome, pre- 
 vented me from making any efforts to 
 dispel. Insensibly, however, I led to the 
 subjects on which I wished to ascertain 
 if she had any kindred feelings. Amid a 
 modest silence then, while we spoke of 
 the improvement of Cashmire, of the 
 means of contributing to its happiness, 
 of delivering it from oppression,— her 
 eloquent eyes, when I caught their 
 glance, seemed full of the deep interest 
 whick the subject inspired. The words 
 which she uttered were few, but they 
 seemed to rise from the deepest seat of 
 feeling ; and when I met her eyes, a 
 sacred fire glowed in them. Every thing 
 seemed to offer a promise that this was 
 she I had long sighed after. I could 
 have remained for ever: but it was at 
 length necessary to depart. My whole
 
 1£7 
 
 soul was now full of this one object. 
 Here was indeed something interesting 
 above all that I had yet seen of woman- 
 kind ; something that seemed a fulfil- 
 ment of my vain and ceaseless wishes. 
 Yet what I have as yet seen is little, too 
 little by far, on which to rest any assu- 
 rance. Shall I be caught, like a boy, 
 at the first glance ? Shall a few sweet 
 tones entrap me ? Fear not, I will deep- 
 ly consider; I feel all the importance of 
 this step. I must thoroughly know that 
 she is what my fancy paints ; that the 
 transcendent interest thus awakened has 
 an adequate object ; I must not be de- 
 ceived here. I will examine till there 
 shall not be a doubt remaining. My 
 dread is too awful of being united to any, 
 but one who could share my most secret 
 thoughts.
 
 128 
 
 CORASMIN to AlTUNO. 
 
 What I have seen and heard of Sel- 
 mida since 1 last wrote, has all tended 
 to confirm my first impression. Still, 
 indeed, the same mild and dignified re- 
 serve; yet through it there still tran- 
 spires the same glowing interest in 
 every object connected with public vir- 
 tue and happiness. Nor is this, if I can 
 at all judge, inspired, as is common in 
 the world, by the mere vanity of talking 
 on subjects of importance. It comes 
 apparently deep from the heart. She 
 seems even desirous not to mingle in our 
 conversation, when it touches upon such 
 subjects ; but she listens, till, unknow-
 
 129 
 
 ingly, unconsciously, her eyes brighten, 
 and kindred sentiments spontaneously 
 burst forth. I cannot believe this to be 
 feigned : Never did I observe, in the 
 manner of any one, less of laboured ele- 
 vation. I have seen her with the most 
 intimate of her youthful companions : 
 then, unless inspired by some strong 
 sentiment, her gaiety was almost too 
 careless, too infantine ; save that when 
 any higher object was presented, her 
 soul ascended spontaneously as to its 
 native region. Even then, when fancy, 
 feeling, gaiety, flowed unchecked, there 
 still remained a high controlling power 
 to check every exuberance; something 
 still, which seemed to ally her to higher 
 natures. 
 
 You ask, perhaps, what interest I con- 
 ceive myself to possess in the mind of 
 this amiable person ? I fluctuate still 
 vaguely amid hopes and fears. Her 
 manner continues somewhat distant and 
 F 3
 
 130 
 
 almost cold ; yet have I seen no cause 
 to apprehend that this deportment arises 
 from bad opinion or dislike. There are 
 even some approaches towards friend- 
 ship. Our souls sometimes closely meet ; 
 and there may be hope, that, as they 
 touch at more points, more chords will 
 strike in unison. But, unfixed as I still 
 am, uncertain if she be one with whom 
 I could ever dare to seek an union, the 
 time is not yet come for making any 
 attempts to dispel the uncertainty. — 
 Meantime, I am relieved from the dread 
 which I at first felt, of my ardour in its 
 pursuit being weakened by this rival 
 sentiment. Quite opposite is the effect. 
 I feel it give me a new impulse in the 
 cause of mankind. The hope and inte- 
 rest thus excited, diffuse an additional 
 energy through all my exertions ; and if 
 she be such as I fondly hope, the pros- 
 pect of her approbation will afford a 
 new motive to animate them.
 
 }3i 
 
 CORASMIN to AlTUNO. 
 
 . You will no doubt have heard, (never 
 till now could I take up my pen,) that 
 my excellent, my revered benefactor ; 
 that Zamri is no more. An illness, to 
 which he at first paid little attention, 
 proved soon a fever of a very danger- 
 ous nature. Notwithstanding every aid 
 which could be afforded, the disorder 
 continued to gain ground. Sometimes 
 a short interval of ease occurred, and 
 flattered us for a moment with hopes of 
 recovery : But soon the prospect darken- 
 ed, and every symptom assumed a more 
 fatal aspect. At length the physicians 
 announced, that we had nothing to hope.
 
 132 
 
 1 pass over the last scene, the anguish of 
 which is still fresh ; but I had the satis- 
 faction of being present, and receiving 
 new testimonies of unaltered affection. 
 Even now, I have attended to pay the 
 last duties ; have seen him consigned to 
 the grave, and the earth covering him: 
 AH my hopes seemed buried in the same 
 tomb. 
 
 I am happy to say, that the young 
 Monarch shewed a just concern at the 
 prospect of losing so valuable a servant. 
 He caused him to be attended by his 
 own physicians, and visited him repeat- 
 edly in person. One day, in particular, 
 he had a long and private conference 
 with him, the subject of which I have 
 not learned. 
 
 I see myself thus deprived of the man 
 to whom I am indebted for all my pre- 
 sent fortunes ; and a deep shade is 
 thrown over my prospects. But at pre- 
 sent I feel only for my cruel separation,
 
 133 
 
 ^nd for the State, which has experien- 
 ced in him an irreparable loss. Doubt- 
 less, he is gone to act a distinguished 
 part in some higher scene of existence. 
 But the world here can ill sustain the 
 absence of one, who has left so few 
 equals behind him. 
 
 From the Same to the Same. 
 
 I MUST leave this office. I can no 
 longer hope for usefulness in acting 
 among those with whom I am associat- 
 ed. Not that I can allege any symp- 
 toms of a wish for my removal. On the 
 contrary, I receive pressing invitations 
 to remain, and, in whatever concerns my
 
 134 
 
 own private advantage, offers are made 
 even beyond my wishes. But no longer 
 supported, I do not find that I can do 
 any thing for my country : any thing to 
 repress abuses ; any thing to relieve the 
 people. I must act merely as an instru- 
 ment, and must not interfere with the 
 general system : remonstrance is not lis- 
 tened to. Yet are there measures on 
 the eve of execution, in which I could 
 never even appear to acquiesce. The 
 utmost exertion which I can now make, 
 could have no effect but that of strength- 
 ening a system, to which I am wholly 
 adverse. Therefore I have nothing left 
 but to retire, and withdraw again into 
 my native shades ; and if this resolution 
 is opposed by most of those calling 
 themselves my friends, I enjoy the full 
 approbation of the few who truly merit 
 that title.
 
 135 
 
 ZlKGANI to AlTUNO, 
 
 You already know, that Corasmin is- 
 again about to retire. This is a vo- 
 luntary determination, dictated by the 
 highest sense of public duty. We are 
 all fully convinced, that, by remaining, 
 he injured the cause to which he had de- 
 voted himself. His associates in office 
 were most anxious that he should con- 
 tinue. They had need of him : no one 
 else understood so well, or could execute 
 with such dexterity, the functions of his 
 department. But they calculated still 
 more on the public estimation in which 
 he was held : They wished his apparent 
 sanction ; they hoped to throw him up
 
 136 
 
 as a shield against the odium which they 
 were incurring. He ought not, there- 
 fore, and means not to remain. But 
 they have also, if I am not much misin- 
 formed, some reason to apprehend, that 
 his departure will not increase their 
 favour with the young Monarch, 
 
 Cabuli to Altuno, 
 
 This Corasmin is perfectly unac- 
 countable: his conduct sets all calcula- 
 tion at defiance. Here he is, in a situ- 
 ation the most desirable; far better, I 
 may truly say, than any one could have 
 expected, that had seen the manner in 
 which he conducted himself. Excellent
 
 137 
 
 prospects of rising too ; and no one ask- 
 ing any thing of him, but merely to re- 
 main quietly where he is. All this he 
 chuses at once to throw up. It is long- 
 since he ceased to pay the smallest atten- 
 tion to any advice of mine; therefore it 
 is vain for me to think of giving it. All 
 that I could wish is, to hear something 
 like a rational cause assigned for his 
 conduct. But this no one has yet been 
 able to give me. Do you think you 
 could have any influence in turning him 
 from this frenzy ; for surely you could 
 not now refuse to exert it ? I apply to 
 you, as a last resource ; for every thing 
 that can be done here has been tried, 
 and to no purpose.
 
 13S 
 
 CORASMIN to AlTUNO. 
 
 I STILL remain. I will even remain 
 for a short time longer; and I may not 
 say, even to you, the reason why. You 
 are at liberty, then, to suppose, that I 
 begin to cling to the sweets of office; 
 begin to think it too much to exchange 
 power and profit for a chimerical sense 
 of right. You are at liberty to think 
 thus, and I am not at liberty to refute 
 y-ou.
 
 139 
 
 From the Same to the Sa7ne, 
 
 I CAN now relate to you, without re- 
 serve, all that has passed during the late 
 eventful fortnight. Agreeably to my last 
 letter, I had announced my intention 
 of retiring ; and having found nothing 
 satisfactory in the motives by which 
 I was urged to remain, was occupied 
 in making the necessary preparations. 
 While thus busied, however, I was sur- 
 prised by receiving a message, which en- 
 joined me to repair immediately to the 
 palace. I obeyed, and was shown through 
 a suite of apartments to a cabinet in the 
 interior. Here I waited for some time; 
 but judge of my surprise, when, the door
 
 140 
 
 being thrown open, who should enter 
 but the Monarch himself! I started up : 
 On finding myself thus unexpectedly in 
 so new a situation, my composure, I con- 
 fess, for a moment forsook me. He 
 came in, however, and addressed me in 
 so courteous a manner, as soon relieved 
 my embarrassment, and restored an en- 
 tire self-possession. He sat down, and 
 at his desire I did so also. Zamri was 
 the first subject ef our conversation, and 
 here his Majesty expressed himself in a 
 manner most gratifying, and which ]ed. 
 me to form the most favourable presages. 
 He then changed the subject, and said, 
 " But they tell me you are about to leave 
 my service : Is it really so ?" " Sire, it is 
 with deep regret I say, that you have been 
 rightly informed." " Corasmin, I am 
 much surprised at this resolution. No 
 doubt you were once wronged ; that was 
 without my knowledge ; but every thing 
 possible has been done to repair it : Of
 
 141 
 
 what do you now complain?" " Sire, I 
 may truly say, that, so far as personally 
 concerns myself, I have every reason to 
 be satisfied. I may add, that I am not 
 conscious of failing in any sentiment 
 which I owe to your Majesty, as my sove- 
 reign and benefactor, yet the necessity 
 which forces me to retire is not less ur- 
 gent.'* *' But whence does it arise .^ No 
 motive can I discover, except indiffe- 
 rence to my service. I am surely entit- 
 led at least to a full explanation." I 
 hesitated not then to make a frar^k ex- 
 position of all my motives, and what the 
 measures were which I could not con-, 
 template with indifference, nor ever con- 
 cur in. " Well," said he, " I certainly felt 
 at first very much as you do ; These are 
 things to which I was much averse ; but 
 all my ministers agreed, that they were 
 quite necessary. 1 know not how they 
 could have been avoided. However, let 
 me hear what you have to say."
 
 142 
 
 A discussion of some length now fol- 
 lowed. I saw at once the nature of 
 Vizignan, — open, noble, generous, suscep- 
 tible of powerful and rapid impressions, 
 naturally good, and incapable of being 
 thoroughly depraved. But with these 
 amiable dispositions was combined a fa- 
 cility, amiable in itself, and susceptible 
 of all the charms of beneficence ; yet 
 which exposed him too readily to be 
 misled and deceived. A flattering crowd 
 had taught him to refer every measure, 
 every event, to his own power and im- 
 portance, never to the public good : — 
 scarcely any other idea had been allowed 
 to approach his mind. Thus, when we 
 were discussing the tendency of various 
 measures, I found him obstinately view- 
 ing them in this light only, and entrench- 
 ing himself in ground wh^re he could 
 not be touched. It was in vain that I 
 reasoned ; this met me at every turn, 
 I saw it necessary, therefore, and I re-
 
 143 
 
 solved, Id go deeper, and fully to explain 
 what I really judged that a King ought 
 to be : and there was in him still some- 
 thing which assured me, that I might do 
 so, without fear of offending. I sought 
 to prove, that the first, sole aim of a 
 Monarch should be, to diffuse happiness 
 among that people over whose destinies 
 he presided ; that hei^ was all his great- 
 ness and happiness; it was for this that 
 heaven had made him a King. I endea- 
 voured to shew, how unrivalled a source 
 of felicity partial fate had thus opened 
 to him. He could redress the wrongs of 
 thousands; could cover deserts with the 
 glow of cultivation ; could create a vast 
 mass of existence, which, but for him, 
 would never have existed. I placed 
 before him the picture of a kingdom, 
 Vv'hich should be indebted to him for 
 order, for security, for a thousand bless- 
 ings which it was in his power to confer,* 
 liow superior to every other must be the
 
 144 
 
 happiness derived from such a spectacle i 
 The King listened with fixed attention, 
 and evidently shared the sentiments 
 which had animated me in making this 
 delineation. I saw his eyes glow with 
 sacred enthusiasm ; springs had been 
 touched, which, when awakened, beat 
 powerfully 'within him: hopes opened to 
 me, at that moment, for Cashmire and 
 for the world. But soon a cloud passed 
 over his countenance. " Corasmin, these 
 are not new ideas to me : they are such 
 as have often sprung up in my mind : I 
 should be delighted to indulge them 1 
 But no minister has ever yet held this 
 language : on the contrary, whenever I 
 started such ideas, I was warned not to 
 think of putting them in practice : they 
 were treated as amiable weaknesses, 
 against which I must guard. Yet, cer- 
 tainly, if the facts you have stated prove 
 true, — I will consider, — I will inquire ; 
 the subject is serious: Meantime, let me
 
 145 
 
 ask you to remain ; and not to name, 
 even to your most intimate friends, what 
 has now passed." 
 
 After this I could not but remain : 
 yet was I inclined to believe, that the 
 impression would be soon obliterated ; 
 that nothing more would pass ; and that 
 the offer of resignation would be again 
 to be made. I was mistaken : Eight 
 days indeed elapsed, but a second mes- 
 sage then summoned me to the palace. 
 I again found myself in his Majesty's 
 presence. He entered, in an attitude 
 deeply thoughtful, saluted me gracious- 
 ly, and then said : " Corasmin, I have 
 been greatly occupied by the subject of 
 our last conversation. I have inquired 
 into the facts : Every thing you told me 
 was true : My people, indeed, are great- 
 ly wronged. I feel much disposed to 
 concur with you ; but first you must 
 give me some explanations. I must not 
 resign what has been transmitted to me 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 146 
 
 by my ancestors : I must maintain my 
 prerogative. You cannot, surely, expect 
 me to become the slave of my subjects ? 
 You must show me clearly, that my au- 
 thority will not suffer ; that no mischief 
 will ensue." It was no difficult task to 
 prove, how intimate was the union be- 
 tween the interests of a sovereign and 
 those of his people ; it was in their num- 
 bers, their wealth, their activity, that his 
 real greatness consisted. '* Sire," said I, 
 " what injury can ensue from ensuring 
 to all their equal rights ? from stopping 
 the career of oppression ? You have 
 only to give free scope to those capaci- 
 ties of improvement which are lodged 
 deep within them : this is enough to 
 make you the greatest of monarchs.'* 
 Vizignan felt the force of my observa- 
 tions, yet still was not quite satisfied. 
 He even put a somewhat delicate ques- 
 tion : He asked, whether I was actuat- 
 ed solely by the consideration of public
 
 147 
 
 good, not by any personal regard to him- 
 self ? I could with truth profess pro* 
 found attachment and respect for his 
 Majesty ; and could add, that, consider- 
 ing the two motives as inseparably con- 
 nected, I saw no inconsistency in che- 
 rishing both with equal zeal. He ap- 
 peared satisfied. We conversed long 
 upon this subject ; and the King said in 
 conclusion, " You must still give me 
 some days longer to reflect : you shall 
 then hear my final resolution." 
 
 I departed ; but a very few days now 
 elapsed till I was a third time sent for. 
 I found the King in a state of strong 
 emotion, agitated, yet resolved, and with 
 the air of one who has finally fixed a 
 grand determination. " Corasmin," said 
 he, " after long reflection, after full in- 
 quiry, I have become entirely your con- 
 vert. I feel that what you described is 
 indeed what a king should be. I find 
 congenial feelings within me : My heart
 
 148 
 
 glows with the hope of one clay being all 
 you painted. But, to be so, I must have 
 you to support me. You must be my 
 aid, my adviser, my minister! Nay, gaze 
 not in wonder; I have well weighed what 
 I say." " Sire," said I, " amazed I cer- 
 tainly am : I dare not take such a weight 
 upon myself. Consider my youth, con- 
 sider the little I have seen of pubHc life." 
 '' Corasmin," replied he, " I have not de- 
 cided rashly. You are not new to public 
 affairs : I certainly know that you have 
 studied them with long and unwearied 
 attention. I have heard your praise from 
 every one whose opinion I judge to be 
 most estimable. Zamri recommended 
 you to me with his latest breath. In 
 short, of all whom I have met, you only 
 have avowed the principles which are 
 now to guide me. I have often thought 
 thus, but never found any one to sym- 
 pathize with me. My people must be 
 made happy, if to make them so be with-
 
 149 
 
 in my power. I wish it, but scarcely 
 know how, if you guide not my yet un- 
 certain steps. You abandon me ; you 
 abandon Cashmire." — " Sire, grant me at 
 least a few days to consider." — '^ Well, 
 I grant it ; but do not therefore suppose, 
 that you will prevail Math me to accept 
 of any excuse." 
 
 Thus it rests with me alone, whether 
 I am to be placed on the highest pin- 
 nacle to which ambition could soar. T 
 view it with desire, with burning am- 
 bition : I confess I do. But may not 
 this lustre which surrounds it, lead my 
 thoughts astray ? I tremble in coming 
 under a weight so awful : hopes, wishes, 
 regrets ; all that I had thought and plan- 
 ned for this people crowd into my mind, 
 but still disarranged, and fill me with 
 alarm. An error here, even involuntary, 
 could scarcely be distinguished from a 
 crime. Can I even trust, that these 
 glowing passions will never mislead me.^
 
 150 
 
 and if I fall, into what an abyss do I 
 sink ! Now, Ob, my friend ! I conjure 
 you by all that is most sacred in the ties 
 which bind you to your country, and 
 render its prosperity your first object on 
 earth ; strip yourself of every partiality ; 
 view me not as your friend, your pupil ; 
 view me only as the instrument of her 
 welfare : — Will zeal, however ardent, 
 alone avail ? Think deeply, I entreat 
 you; give me a full and frank opinion. 
 Till I receive it, I will form no resolu- 
 tion. 
 
 AlTUNO to CORASMIN. 
 
 My dearest young Friend, — I cannot 
 hesitate a moment what to advise. Far,
 
 151 
 
 indeed, were it from me to wish, that 
 even my most favourite pupil should 
 hold such a place, when a worthier 
 would have filled it, when Cashmire 
 would have suffered. But form not to 
 yourself ideas of imaginary perfection; 
 see only what the men are who could 
 be brought into competition with you. 
 No, my Corasmin, none, Hke you, have 
 sought out all the sources of national 
 prosperity; none have so devoied them- 
 selves to it. It is, indeed, — let me not 
 deceive you, — it is an awful trust which 
 is DOW to be imposed upon you. Toils 
 that never cease, dangers always envi- 
 roning, sacrifices almost more than hu- 
 man, must be the portion of him upon 
 whom it rests. But still it is the noblest 
 trust which heaven can bestow on man : 
 it is a trust which you can, and there- 
 fore must fulfil.
 
 152 
 
 CORASMIN to AlTUNO. 
 
 It is all over : I have accepted. The 
 King has, with great promptitude and 
 decision, carried the change into effect. 
 Those formerly at the head of affairs 
 have already received their dismissal ; 
 and I have been called upon to suggest 
 the plan of a new administration. 
 
 Behold me, then, first minister, and, 
 next to the Sovereign, the prime mover 
 in the destinies of this great people. 
 Exalted indeed is the office ! To diffuse 
 benefits over so vast an extent ; to be 
 the source from which prosperity flows 
 through myriads of human beings; to 
 co-operate, as it were, with the Divinity
 
 153 
 
 himself, in spreading order and happiness 
 throughout nature ! — But if these privi- 
 leges be high, how weighty also are the 
 obligations which they impose ! What 
 anxiety, that every step may not only be 
 advantageous, but may produce the ut- 
 most possible good ! What mighty and 
 unforeseen consequences may arise from 
 measures seemingly trivial ; and, should 
 these be fatal, what bitter regrets must 
 follow ! How difficult to strike the due 
 medium between tyranny and weakness; 
 to cherish the national privileges, with- 
 out leaving an opening for licentiousness 
 and disorder; to rectify abuses, without 
 injuring the valuable institutions on 
 which they are grafted ! What dangers 
 surround me on every side ! Oh, thou ! 
 my Supreme Benefactor, who, through 
 this variety of fortune, hast raised me to 
 so wondrous a height, vouchsafe thine 
 aid ; support and guide my trembling 
 footsteps ; that I may be enabled, in 
 G 3
 
 154 
 
 some faint and humble degree, to be- 
 come an instrument in forwarding thy 
 great designs of universal good ! — You 
 too, n)y friend, I doubt not, join your 
 wishes and prayers for a successful pro- 
 gress in this great career. But could 
 you not do more ? How precious would 
 be your aid, your presence ! I know the 
 force of those ties which bind you to 
 the retreat in which you pass the even- 
 ing of your days : I request not a per- 
 sonal kindness ; I owe you too much 
 already to think of asking more. But 
 is there not a duty which summons you ? 
 You will think well, I am confident, 
 upon this subject.
 
 155 
 
 AlTUNO to CORASMIN. 
 
 Your last letter fulfilled my utmost 
 wish. The dim visions of hope are realiz- 
 ed; your fortune is twined with the for- 
 tunes of mankind: Happy nations will 
 have you for their ruler. Happy is it for 
 me that mankind should be blessed! thrice 
 happy, that you should be their benefac- 
 tor ! But, Oh, Corasmin ! never forget the 
 snares that will beset you in this eleva- 
 tion, the many voices of flattery that 
 will assail you. Study man as he is ; 
 strip off every disguise ; carefully com- 
 pare actions with words ; think how all 
 are interested in deceiving you. Yet I
 
 156 
 
 trust, that the sacred flame will not soon 
 decay. But guard also against the oppo- 
 site extreme: keep moderation even in 
 your public zeal ; change not all too 
 quickly; men may not be such as we 
 wish, yet still, skilfully handled, they 
 may be useful instruments. 
 
 You know me, I suppose, enough to 
 believe, that neither for you, nor for my 
 country, would I be sparing of any effort 
 which it were in my power to make. 
 But the time is past when I could ap- 
 pear with dignity on the theatre of pub- 
 lic life. Long habit has inured me to 
 this solitude ; infirmity now chains me 
 to it. You have heard, and eagerly im- 
 bibed, all that I could tell of the sources 
 of human happiness, the barriers of pub- 
 lic virtue. You have made it entirely 
 your own. You can execute it with all 
 the glowing energies of the prime of 
 your age : the wrecks of mine would aid 
 you little. Occasional advice, which is
 
 157 
 
 all that I could now give, you might re- 
 ceive equally from this retirement. Ask 
 me not then to leave it, and plunge into 
 a world, which is now strange and un- 
 suited to me. 
 
 Fazil to Altuno. 
 
 CoRASMiN himself cannot now write; 
 he is too deeply occupied in forming 
 those preliminary arrangements on which 
 future success and usefuhiess must main- 
 ly depend. He again deputes me then 
 to supply his place. He knows well 
 how pleasing is the office, at a moment 
 so animating and so full of liope for us 
 and for our country. It is most gratifying
 
 158 
 
 to find the general union of sentiment 
 in his favour. Those driven from office, 
 indeed, are loud in their impotent mur- 
 murs. But all whose judgment, or whose 
 aid is truly to be valued, sanction the 
 choice made by the Sovereign. They ad- 
 mit, that Cashmire contains many states- 
 men most able and capable of rendering 
 the greatest services ; but they still con- 
 ceive that he ought to be the first. His 
 decision and activity profoundly temper- 
 ed with wisdom ; his enlightened and 
 generous ardour; those ties by which he 
 holds bound to him all that is best and 
 most enlightened among our rising states- 
 men ; — these point him out as the man 
 that ought to take the lead, to distribute 
 their parts to the different actors, to su- 
 perintend the whole. 
 
 Corasmin, I believe, will write you at 
 the first moment of leisure.
 
 159 
 
 CORASMIN to AlTUNO. 
 
 I EAGERLY embrace this momentary 
 interval, to give you an account of all 
 that I have been now doing. It has af- 
 forded deep and anxious occupation. It 
 was of the first importance to avoid, in 
 this preliminary step, errors which could 
 not, without extreme difficulty, be after- 
 wards remedied. Not only must there be 
 able men to fill every department; they 
 must be men possessing, from nature or 
 habit, the peculiar talents suited to each. 
 Mere general ability, without such ap- 
 propriate qualifications, might, even in 
 its practical result, be worse than medi- 
 ocrity.
 
 160 
 
 I certainly have much ground for hope 
 in the character of those whom I can 
 now call around me : men, not able 
 merely, but connected by the strictest 
 congeniality of views and sentiments ; 
 bound together by the strongest ties 
 of public and private union. Here my 
 situation is indeed fortunate. I shall 
 have the happiness of bringing forward, 
 to public usefulness, wisdom and powers 
 which otherwise might never have been 
 known, and might have been lost to the 
 world. 
 
 Zingani is one of those on whose judg- 
 ment and profound reflection I rested 
 my main dependence. Yet is he unwill- 
 ing to involve himself in the bustle and 
 tumult of office. His disposition, all his 
 habits, dispose him rather for private life. 
 Not that he can be accused of any indif- 
 ference to the public welfare; no one 
 feels a more ardent passion to promote 
 it ; but he prefers a more retired and
 
 I6i 
 
 private sphere. He urges even, and not 
 perhaps without some reason, that his 
 public usefulness will be greater, thus 
 standing behind the scene, than if he oc- 
 cupied a more prominent station. He, 
 above all others, is qualified for investi- 
 gating those grand principles by which 
 public councils ought to be guided. He 
 possesses caution and comprehension, to 
 sound those depths, which I should 
 scarcely have leisure to look into. Yet 
 I should even dread, were he himself 
 employed to carry them into execution, 
 that he might apply them too absolutely, 
 and with too little attention to existing 
 circumstances. He anticipates, through- 
 out, so full a stream of success; he calcu- 
 lates so little on the resistance which this 
 rugged world will oppose to him, that it 
 would be difficult always to retain him 
 within the limits of prudence. At the 
 same time, he wants the firmness and 
 decision which could alone secure sue-
 
 162 
 
 cess to his plans. His province is to 
 enlighten those who act, rather than to 
 act himself. I wish to keep him con- 
 stantly near me, to be consulted upon all 
 occasions; to investigate all complicated 
 and difficult questions ; to furnish, in 
 short, the general principles, while others 
 undertake the task of modifying and ap- 
 plying thein. 
 
 Actemad is a character as opposite as 
 can possibly exist, consistently with 
 common views and principles. A labo- 
 rious and minute inspection of things as 
 they really exist, immoveable integrity, 
 unwearied perseverance, all point him out 
 as formed to act, not to speculate ; as an 
 admirable instrument, but not one from 
 whom any extensive plans can originate. 
 The management of the finances, a most 
 important department, and which ur- 
 gently claims our attention, appeared to 
 be that for which his qualifications were 
 peculiarly suited. His severe integrity,
 
 163 
 
 his industry and economy, seemed to 
 constitute him the person that ought to 
 fill a situation so arduous. Even the re- 
 pulsive part of his character, though it 
 may render him less amiable in society, 
 is no disadvantage m a post beset with 
 such numerous and unreasonable de- 
 mands. He can perform without suffer- 
 ing the severe and stern duties of that 
 office; can oppose an iron front against 
 the avidity of innumerable claimants : he 
 does public good without the reward of 
 gratitude. The grace may be wanting 
 with which it were desirable to temper 
 a refusal ; but he encounters with cheer- 
 fulness the odium of so painful an office. 
 Much, then, do we certainly owe to him ; 
 and if there be any thing extreme, or too 
 rigorous in his economy, it can be easily 
 mitigated. 
 
 As for Alvanda, he is one whom I 
 should in vain attempt to fix down to 
 any routine of occupation : little use, I
 
 164 
 
 believe, could thus be derived from him. 
 His lively and roving disposition must 
 be indulged. He must be employed, as 
 emergencies arise, which require an impe- 
 tuous temporary effort, rather than conti- 
 nued application. The brisk and sweep- 
 ing activity with which he applies him- 
 self to every new object, enables him to 
 carry before him obstacles, which would 
 have resisted more measured exertions. 
 Foreign affairs and negotiation form the 
 departments in which I look to him for 
 peculiar aid. His alertness, his quick- 
 ness of penetration, and popular address, 
 render him one of the very best persons 
 to whom the conduct of such concerns 
 can be entrusted. 
 
 Such are my prime eo-adjutors ; the 
 men in whom my first confidence must 
 be placed. But I have not forgotten 
 the warnings which you gave me against 
 too violent and sudden a change. Expe- 
 rience every day more fully shews me
 
 165 
 
 their force. It has, in general, been my 
 wish to retain those who have been em- 
 ployed in the subordinate departments, 
 and have acquired a complete knowledge 
 of the routine of business there carried 
 on. It is true, they have often con- 
 tracted at the same time an attachment 
 to long established abuses ; and they 
 may thus render these more difficult to 
 be eradicated. But the obstacles thus 
 raised cannot be insurm6untable : when 
 we command, they must obey. Nay, it 
 is well that we have men of experience 
 to give warning of the dangers into 
 which a too ardent zeal might precipitate 
 us. It is well that they should oppose a 
 power of resistance against the too ex- 
 treme rapidity of our course. 
 
 Thus all the preliminaries are arranged, 
 and the time come for beginning to act. 
 Trembling I enter on those awful func- 
 tions ! What a weight of responsibility 
 now rests upon me ! I have only to give
 
 166 
 
 the touch, and a thousand springs are at 
 work; — every movement influences the 
 fate of thousands. Well may I shudder 
 to think, that the happiness of so many 
 must rest upon me. Plans may be medi- 
 tated with all the depth which zeal can 
 inspire ; yet to erring mortals what secu- 
 rity is there that the end will be accom- 
 plished ? These issues rest indeed with 
 that Power to whom I act in awful 
 subordination. ' Yet must I not repose 
 in indolent security : It were far from 
 enough for me that I were innocent, if 
 Cash mire were not made happy. But 
 the time for looking back is now past; 
 every thought, every effort, must be 
 devoted to the high functions which I 
 am called upon to fulfil. The happiness 
 of this great people, like a fairy land- 
 scape glowing in the distance, fills my 
 imagination, animates and impels every 
 effort, chases every feeling of languor 
 and fatigue.
 
 167 
 
 Meantime, I have not merely to con- 
 sider what is best to be clone, I must 
 also conciliate to it him under whose au- 
 thority I act. Every honourable means 
 must ever be employed, of securing his 
 general favour and approbation. We 
 must withdraw from his eye whatever 
 is rough or forbidding in the exercise of 
 public beneficence. It is natural for him 
 to expect, that his rank should bring 
 him enjoyment rather than toil. He has 
 never learned hardihood in the school of 
 adversity. We must smooth for him 
 the rugged task of reigning : Painful 
 details, so far as may be, must be tran- 
 sacted in silence. From the rose of pub- 
 lic felicity every thorn must, for him, 
 be extracted. 
 
 I shall soon have occasion to write 
 you again ; for there are urgent and im- 
 portant objects which call for attention ; 
 great evils, which can be prevented only 
 by immediate exertion.
 
 168 
 
 ZiNGANI to CORASMIN. 
 
 You know how much I have approved 
 all the arrangements hitherto made ; but 
 there is one which appears to me so cri- 
 tical, that I cannot even wait my return 
 to the capital, to give you my opinion of 
 it. Muscati is to be continued in the 
 high situation he has so long held, and 
 in which he has lent himself to all the 
 measures and all the interests of succes- 
 sive administrations. Have you well 
 weighed the nature of this man, and the 
 consequence of retaining in such num- 
 bers these adherents to all the former 
 abuses ? You may rest assured, this is a
 
 169 
 
 man into whose head you will never be 
 able to drive any better ideas. He has 
 not the slightest conception of them : 
 I have tried and fully satisfied myself. 
 You may depend upon his opposing a 
 weight of resistance to every improve- 
 ment which you may wish to introduce. 
 It were really better, in my opinion, to 
 purify the fountain entirely; to have 
 none associated with us on whom we 
 could not place equal dependence as on 
 one of ourselves. 
 
 CORASMIN to ZiNGANI. 
 
 1 AM much indebted to you for com- 
 municating your advice so frankly on a 
 subject of such high importance. You 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 170 
 
 have led me to consider it still more 
 seriously than before. But I feel com- 
 pletely satisfied, that the use of this man 
 to us will be very great; far more than 
 sufficient to counterbalance the evils, 
 though real, which you anticipate. Con- 
 sider how much information he can fur- 
 nish, which we could not dispense with, 
 yet should find it difficult to obtain else- 
 where. He is an instrument ready made ; 
 such as could not be soon or easily sup- 
 plied. He possesses all that minute ap- 
 plication and mechanical dexterity which 
 long practice alone can teach. There 
 are inconveniences, indeed, attached to 
 the use of such instruments : But when 
 can we hope to escape these ? We must 
 take useful qualities, mixed and com- 
 pounded as they are by.nature : we must 
 not search too curiously after a hopeless 
 perfection : We must employ Muscati.
 
 171 
 
 CORASMIN to AlTUNO. 
 
 The period since my last has been in- 
 teresting. You already know the cause 
 of my late determination to retire from 
 office. An impost had been laid upon 
 the agriculturists, the most useful of 
 classes ; in its nature the most oppres- 
 sive and undistinguishing, and enforced 
 with unrelenting rigour. Thousands 
 were undone : — rather than pay, it had 
 been easier to abandon every thing; their 
 little all was selling to discharge it. No- 
 thing could be so urgent as this : Here 
 was a certain good which could be per- 
 formed immediately ; and if delayed, it 
 would then be too late. The moment that
 
 17£ 
 
 Vizignan heard, and had sensible proofs 
 of this injustice, he was all on fire to re- 
 pair it. "Fly," cried he, "instantly fly; 
 save them ; save at least all that can be 
 saved. All must be restored which was 
 so cruelly wrung from them : they must 
 return to their deserted homes." I did 
 not, as you may suppose, check such 
 dispositions, Measures were instantly 
 taken to ascertain what each had suffer- 
 ed, and, as far as could be done, to repair 
 the calamity. The task was laborious; 
 but all applied to it; every other object 
 was for the moment suspended. A stop 
 was immediately put to the further 
 operation of the measure ; an estimate 
 was then formed of what each had suf- 
 fered; and, to the utmost of our power, 
 all was restored. The compensations 
 prepared were distributed after a minute 
 examination of the claims of each. Vi- 
 zignan himself examined, and decided a 
 number of cases on which doubts were
 
 173 
 
 raised; and every decision bore testimo- 
 ny to the overflowing benevolence with 
 which he was animated. Thus was re- 
 stored to the labourer the hard-earned 
 morsel unjustly torn from him. I wish- 
 ed to communicate to Vizignan a sensi- 
 ble impression of the good he had done. 
 One morning then, as he rode out from 
 the palace, he saw the great square, 
 through which he was to pass, covered 
 with a crowd of persons unknown to 
 him. He turned to me : " Pray, who are 
 these?" " Sire, they are peasants whom 
 you restore to their fields ; allow them 
 to thank you.'* The eyes of Vizignan 
 glowed ; every word, every gesture bore 
 testimony to the deep emotions with 
 which he was penetrated. He approach- 
 ed the most venerable and interesting of 
 the group ; he inquired into their suf- 
 ferings, their losses : there was not one 
 who did not depart fully convinced of his 
 genuine interest in their welfare. They
 
 174 
 
 were heard exclaiming, as they went, 
 " Now we have indeed a King that loves 
 us!" 
 
 From the Same to the Same, 
 
 I COMMUNICATED to you in my last 
 the pleasing result of our first operations. 
 Another task immediately presented it- 
 self. I knew that several persons were 
 secretly confined, on pretences which ap- 
 peared extremely slight. I immediately 
 caused an inquiry to be instituted into 
 the condition of these receptacles. It 
 proved, that there hundreds were im- 
 mured, persons in general of merit and 
 distinction, who were languishing with-
 
 175 
 
 out trial or inquiry. Here had been in- 
 discriminately thrown every one, who 
 from the slightest causes had become ob- 
 noxious to those in power. I instantly 
 resolved, that my first work should be 
 to explore the secrets of that prison- 
 house. I laid before his Majesty the 
 discoveries I had made. He said, " I am 
 shocked at the information you give me, 
 and still more shocked when I consider, 
 that all has been done under my admi- 
 nistration, and by my express authority. 
 The truth is, the orders were brought to 
 me, and signed as a matter of course, 
 without my sufficiently attending to the 
 consequences : Never did I suspect that 
 I could thus be deceived. However, 
 "we can now do no more than provide 
 that such abuses shall no longer exist. 
 I wish that the prison doors be thrown 
 open, and the whole immediately set 
 free." " I am charmed with your Ma- 
 jesty's proposal. Let me only suggest,
 
 176 
 
 as there are some against whom serious 
 charges have really been advanced, whe- 
 ther it might not be proper to reserve 
 these for trial, while the rest are dismiss- 
 ed ?" " Well, this proposal is doubtless 
 reasonable ; but at least let there be no 
 delay in liberating the innocent. Even 
 those, whose alleged offences are not ex- 
 tremely heavy, appear to me to have al- 
 ready made a sufficient atonement. Let 
 us restore the tenants of these abodes to 
 light, to life, and thie world." " Your 
 Majesty has my most cordial assent. I 
 even propose, that to-morrow shall be 
 the day fixed. Nay, possibly your Ma- 
 jesty might have no objection to be pre- 
 sent, and might find it as agreeable an 
 amusement as a public place in the even- 
 ing." " I am delighted with your idea: 
 I shall certainly cause my equipage to be 
 ready at the hour appointed." A rumour 
 of what was intended had gone abroad, 
 and spread through the city. Early in
 
 177 
 
 the morning, the place was beset by the 
 relations and friends of those who were 
 within. An immense crowd from all 
 quarters flocked to the same spot, at- 
 tracted by curiosity or sympathy. At 
 length the expected moment arrived. A 
 way being opened through the multi- 
 tude, the royal equipage passed, and sta- 
 tioned itself opposite to the door of the 
 prison. The work of deliverance was 
 now begun. From without, we could 
 hear the sound of chains unloosing, and 
 cries of joy echoing through the desolate 
 apartments. The gate was then thrown 
 open, and those whom it had confined 
 issued forth to new existence and life, 
 to behold again the light of day, and to 
 all the joys of action and society. Then 
 was seen the meeting and warm embra- 
 ces of parents and children, of sisters and 
 brothers, of wives and husbands, and the 
 tears of joy shed at this happy, almost 
 unhoped for reunion. Nor was the plea- 
 H 3
 
 178 
 
 sure confined to them, but was commu- 
 nicated to every spectator. Shouts of 
 applause and rapture ascended from the 
 whole of the surrounding circle. Vizig- 
 nan exclaimed, " Corasmin, now indeed 
 you have taught me what it is to be a 
 King r 
 
 From the Smne to the Same. 
 
 All, I think, has now been done which 
 it was possible to do at once. A higher 
 and more arduous task follows. Our 
 view^s must take a wider range : They 
 must extend over the future ; must em- 
 brace those objects which affect the 
 permanent welfare of Cashmire. The
 
 179 
 
 deepest consideration is here required ; 
 for though it is evident that something- 
 must be done, yet, as we advance, dan- 
 gers beset us at every step. All the 
 powers of wisdom and foresight which 
 our circle can furnish, must now be call- 
 ed forth, in order to afford the hope of 
 treading with safety. But the difficulty 
 is increased, not merely in regard to the 
 discovery of what is to be done, but also 
 in obtaining the same cordial concur- 
 rence on the part of the Monarch. No- 
 thing can now be presented to the sen- 
 ses ; all is distant, and exists only in 
 hope. Often even present and sensible 
 evil must be encountered, in order to 
 reach this ultimate good. It must be 
 my task to disperse the mist which now 
 hides it from his eye ; to place before 
 him the beauties of that structure, of 
 which he can now only be laying the 
 foundation.
 
 180 
 
 I cannot have a doubt as to what must 
 be the first object of our care. Justice 
 must reign ; property and life must be 
 secured to all. This is the grand basis 
 on which must rest that prosperity, 
 which it is our ambition to create ; with- 
 out it, all were in vain. We must lift 
 the drooping arm of industry ; must 
 secure to the labourer the fruits of his 
 toil ; must cause that the mightiest may 
 not commit wrong, nor the meanest en- 
 dure it. Far otherwise is it now. Vio- 
 lence reigns every-where ; every-where 
 the hard-earned morsel is snatched from 
 the hand of industry; the husbandman 
 who should labour, w^ould labour only for 
 his oppressor. '^ Sire," said I, " you do 
 not reign, while your subjects groan under 
 this tyranny; while you secure them not 
 against the hand of power which wrings 
 ffom them the morsel so hardly earned. 
 Would you reign over a great, prospe- 
 rous, and happy people r you must
 
 181 
 
 then have independent and upright tri- 
 bunals to secure all in their just rights. 
 The sword of justice must flame against 
 those who riot on public calamity. You 
 must bring the mighty delinquent to jus- 
 tice : no favour, no power, must screen 
 him." This was a task little congenial 
 to the easy good nature of the Monarch. 
 He said, '' No doubt, my subjects must not 
 be oppressed; that I will never permit: 
 but are you sure as to the grounds of 
 what you have stated? I cannot recollect 
 any complaint that has reached me. If 
 the people are injured, why do they not 
 state their grievances ? No doubt they 
 are excessively indolent : this I have 
 often been grieved to remark. But I am 
 told that it is their nature to be so; that 
 nothing will ever cure them." " Sire,'* 
 said I, '* you will never hear a word of 
 complaint. These things are done under 
 your order, by your authority, as it were, 
 by yourself Your people enjoy not the
 
 182 
 
 just fruits of their industry; therefore 
 it is that these fields lie waste." After 
 much discussion and explanation, the 
 King at length withdrew his objections ; 
 yet still he did not appear to enter into 
 our views with all the ardour which I 
 wished to inspire. I judged it requisite 
 that some sensible impression should be 
 made. We were making an excursion 
 to a part of the country at some distance, 
 where I believed myself not to be per- 
 sonally known. This district was of 
 exuberant fertility, possessed a ready 
 market for its productions, had, in short, 
 every requisite for becoming great and 
 prosperous. Its present aspect was alto- 
 gether the reverse : — The cultivators 
 were seen standing listless, with hands 
 folded; and the few v»^ho laboured at all, 
 performed it as an object in which they 
 had scarcely any concern. The King 
 exclaimed, " Now own that I was rightly 
 informed. See how indolent these men
 
 183 
 
 are; nothing can rouse them !" " Sire," 
 said I, " observe a group standing at a 
 little distance ; allow me to step forward 
 and converse with-them, while you may 
 listen unobserved." " Friends," said I, 
 " can you find nothing better than to 
 stand here thus idle ? look at these fields ; 
 duly cultivated, they might produce three 
 times what they now do." " And do you 
 suppose that if they did so we should be 
 richer ?" " Certainly." " Oh ! you know 
 better. All the advantage we should 
 gain would be, that of being marked out 
 as objects for exaction. If, indeed, the 
 fruits of our labour were our own, there 
 were a mighty difference; but no! no! 
 However, on these subjects the less that 
 is said the better." " But, my friends, 
 tell me, have you fairly made the trial ? 
 may you not be proceeding on a false 
 presumption?" " Oh! do you not know 
 
 the instance of ; what pains he 
 
 bestowed on his little inheritance ? he
 
 184 
 
 made it such as nothing in the neigh- 
 bourhood could equal ; for this very rea- 
 son he lost it." *' Explain to me, I be- 
 seech you, how this could happen." They 
 were at first reserved, but, probably per- 
 ceiving no appearance of any treach- 
 erous design, at length unfolded, indeed, 
 a striking scene of oppression. ^' The 
 same, sir, we know, would be our lot, 
 did our situation appear to afford the 
 temptation : judge then what motive we 
 have to labour." 
 
 I had now obtained all I wished, and, 
 after putting a few further questions to 
 ascertain the facts, I rejoined the Mo- 
 narch. I found him in a state of violent 
 agitation. " Heavens !" exclaimed he, 
 " is it possible, that in my kingdom, by 
 my officers, under colour of my orders, 
 such things are done ? Yes, Corasmin, 
 let the oppressor be instantly brought to 
 justice ; you have my full sanction." 
 "He certainly ought, and must; but
 
 185 
 
 consider, Sire, this sufferer is but the 
 representative of thousands who groan 
 under the same yoke. Let not, then, 
 the generous sympathy of your Majesty 
 spend itself withiu such narrow limits. 
 Our main consideration is not, that such 
 things should be done, but that it should 
 be possible to do them." '* Yes, this shall 
 not be done where I reign : Never will 
 I consider myself as King over Cash- 
 mire, till every one of my subjects shall 
 reap entire the fruits of his industry ; till 
 the meanest is secure from the oppres- 
 sion of the highest. I will do it; only 
 tell me how." Thus we have Vizignan 
 wholly with us ; and nothing remains 
 but to consider, with deep deliberation, 
 what are the best means of fulfilling his 
 intentions
 
 18^ 
 
 CORASMIN to ZiNGANI. 
 
 My dear Friend, — There never was a 
 moment when we were so deeply called 
 upon to concentrate all the wisdom which 
 the councils of Cashmire can afford. 
 The steps now to be taken must be the 
 basis of all our future operations. Jus- 
 tice is the foundation on which our rule 
 must rest. A great change must be 
 made : there is no palliating the disease 
 under which this country now labours. 
 But we must not move one step till every 
 thing connected with the present condi- 
 tion of that department has been full}'- 
 investigated. Actemad has taken the 
 lead in this inquiry, and to him I can
 
 187 
 
 trust for suffering nothing to pass unob- 
 served. But do you meditate (more 
 deeply, I am confident, than if your own 
 highest interests were the object) how 
 the system may best be moulded, how 
 its integrity may he secured, its decisions 
 enforced. Collect all the wisdom of 
 ages. When some change is necessary, 
 and is to be made, now is the time when 
 nothing ought to be overlooked ; when, 
 if possible, not a single error should be 
 suifered to escape. 
 
 CoRASMIlSr to ACTEMAD. 
 
 My dear Friend, — What an abyss have 
 you opened ! Great as my fears had 
 been, they never rose to this height.
 
 188 
 
 Certainly these things must not again 
 be. Yet your plan of pupishnient is too 
 severe, too unrelenting. 1 see many 
 claims for individual mercy. Institutions 
 ill framed and ill supported, presented 
 temptations almost irresistible to human 
 frailty; example, even long precedent, 
 could be urgent in palliation. Nay, too 
 often there were commands from a high- 
 er quarter, obedience to which it would 
 little become us to treat as a crime. 
 Therefore, Actemad, let us aim rather to 
 prevent the possibility of such deeds 
 ever recurring, than to avenge them 
 done. It were not well to open with a 
 ministry of blood. Let us guard the 
 future with awful sanctions, but let us 
 look with a lenient eye upon the past.
 
 189 
 
 CORASMIN to AlTUNO. 
 
 Our arrangements are completed. I 
 ardently hope that impartial inexorable 
 justice is now secure to this people, as 
 far as human institutions can secure it. 
 Vizignan was most zealous that this 
 should be done ; yet was there some dif- 
 ficulty, when measures were proposed for 
 securing the decisions from the arbitrary 
 interference of the Crown. " Nay, Co- 
 rasmin, there I have always conceived 
 myself to have a right to dictate: All 
 my ancestors have exercised it; I am ap- 
 plied to every day to exert this power; I 
 should scarcely know myself without it. 
 I will employ it as appears best for the
 
 190 
 
 public good ; but is it not too much to 
 quit it altogether?" " Sire," said I, " be 
 assured it is not rashly that I have given 
 this advice : I was perfectly aware that 
 there was some sacrifice to be made. 
 But it has been ascertained by all histo- 
 ry, all experience, all observation of hu- 
 man things, that thus only can your 
 Majesty have tribunals where justice will 
 be truly administered. Thus, only, can 
 you reign over a great and prosperous 
 people. If you deny them this, you 
 poison all their well-being at its source : 
 Be assured, that you will soon be much 
 more than indemnified for all that this 
 glorious sacrifice may cost." " Then, 
 since you say so, and since, no doubt, 
 I am often led to give such mandates 
 somewhat too hastily, I agree to give 
 the plan a fair trial."
 
 191 
 
 MUSCATI to ACTEMAD. 
 
 1 CANNOT flatter myself that much 
 deference will be paid to my opinion by 
 the new minister ; nevertheless, what I 
 now hear reported is so serious, that I 
 cannot forbear offering a few words. It 
 is positively said, that Delu is to be 
 placed at the head of the judicial de- 
 partment. Surely this choice has been 
 made without due consideration. Do 
 you know this man ? There is not on 
 earth a more obstinate untractable fool : 
 one that regards no interest or solicita- 
 tion of any kind, or from any quarter. 
 For this reason he is held in utter detes- 
 tation by persons of the first considera-
 
 192 
 
 tion ; by men whom it would really not 
 be safe to offend. Above all, are you 
 aware of the footing on which he stands 
 with his Majesty ? The King considers 
 him as a personal enemy. Directions 
 were sent how he was to proceed in a 
 certain case ; and these orders were not 
 regarded : he refused to give sentence 
 according to the pleasure of his Majesty. 
 The consequence was, that he lost his 
 office. Be assured it is at your peril 
 that you bring forward this man. Then, 
 consider what an excellent appoint- 
 ment this is to dispose of! There is 
 not a man in the kingdom that would 
 not aspire to it. What a pity would it 
 be thus to throw it away I Indeed I 
 would advise you, if possible, to prevail 
 upon Corasmin to reconsider this subject, 
 and to do nothing rashly.
 
 193 
 
 CORASMIN to ACTEMAD. 
 
 You have clone well in transmitting 
 to me fully the opinion of Muscati. I 
 should always wish to see what he has 
 to say against any measure ; for his 
 experience may suggest real obstacles, 
 which would not have occurred to our- 
 selves. But, in the present instance, all 
 the points to which he objects, are pre- 
 cisely those which immoveably fix 
 my resolution. This is the man who 
 knows only the law, and administers it 
 with inexorable firmness. This is he, 
 to whom justice, and the interests of 
 those over whom he presides, are dearer 
 than every object of earthly ambition : 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 194 
 
 he is the man to be chosen out of a 
 thousand. As for the King, I am quite 
 aware of the difficulty ; but for what am 
 I minister, if not to advise, without fear, 
 whatever I judge Essential to the pubhc 
 welfare ? 
 
 From the Same to the Same. 
 
 I HAVE just been with Vizignan. He 
 received my first proposal quite as ill 
 as I expected. ^' Now, Corasmin, you 
 really were ill informed, when you 
 thought of such a person. Do you not 
 know, that he set my orders at open de- 
 fiance ? I indeed wonder that you can 
 make me such a proposal." " Sire, I
 
 195 
 
 must frankly acknowledge, that I made 
 it with a full knowledge of all the cir- 
 cumstances to which you allude. But 
 allow me to ask your Majesty, if, in the 
 point where he refused to give sentence, 
 you ascertained that justice was against 
 him ?" *' Nay, I must truly say, that I 
 gave the matter a very slight examina- 
 tion. I was urgently applied to, and al- 
 ways conceived myself entitled to issue 
 such a mandate." " Was there any 
 thing in the manner of his refusal dis- 
 respectful to your Majesty?" " No; I 
 cannot exactly say so : only he did re- 
 fuse." " Sire," said I, " there appears to 
 me here an opportunity of gaining to 
 ^'our Majesty unrivalled glory, and safe- 
 ty to Cashmire. By appointing him, 
 you will intimate your unalterable deter- 
 mination, that justice shall be done to 
 all, and against ail. By beginning your- 
 self with this powerful effort of self-de- 
 nial, you will deprive every one else of
 
 196 
 
 the right to complain.'* After having 
 said every thing which seemed to me 
 most hkely to weigh with the King, I 
 contrived to break off the conversation. 
 I did not wish to press for an immediate 
 decision, but rather that the subject 
 should be seriously pondered. At our 
 next interview he said : " Well, appoint 
 Delu. Certainly this costs me some- 
 thing : but I am determined to establish 
 justice in our tribunals ; and there does 
 seem to be no other man in whom we 
 can place full confidence. Appoint him; 
 but remember we must still keep a 
 ^yatchful eye over his proceedings."
 
 197 
 
 ACTEMAD to CORASMIN. 
 
 You have managed wonderfully with 
 regard to Delu. You are a bold man: 
 There is not another in Cashmire 
 would have ventured what you have 
 done. 
 
 I have fulfilled your wishes, in an- 
 nouncing and publishing, to the fullest 
 extent, the system upon which we are 
 now determined to act. I hope there is 
 not a person concerned, who has not 
 been duly informed of it. I am sorry to 
 observe, however, that this warning has 
 not made all the impression that might 
 be expected. They observe, with an air 
 of sage indifference, that such plans are
 
 19S 
 
 easily formed, but that their execution 
 is not so easy. Unfortunately, declara- 
 tions to the same effect have repeatedly 
 been made, and then all gone on as be- 
 fore : hence, their gay security. We can 
 do no more. 
 
 From the Same to the Same, 
 
 The crisis is now come. A person 
 well known to be supported by one of 
 the first nobility, has expelled another 
 from his property, in a>manner, and on 
 grounds that are quite unjustifiable. 
 The act is directly in contradiction to 
 the proclamations just issued. But it 
 is one, unfortunately, which has been
 
 199 
 
 sanctioned by long usage and impunity ; 
 for which the great have now scarcely 
 an idea of being called to account. The 
 aggrieved person, trusting to the declar- 
 ed intentions of his Majesty, has appeal- 
 ed to the supreme tribunal. The sen- 
 tence of Delu may be easily anticipated. 
 Now is the time when all our firmness 
 will be necessary. 
 
 MUSCATI to ACTEMAB. 
 
 Things have happened exactly as I 
 foresaw. The process is come before 
 Delu, and it is easy to foresee what 
 will be his sentence: foi there is no 
 doubt, I presume, that the offence was
 
 200 
 
 committed. Positively he must not be 
 allowed to do this. A man of such con- 
 sequence ! such influence ! It is out of the 
 question to offend him : Never was any 
 thing of the kind heard of or attempt- 
 ed. I have had some experience in 
 these affairs : such measures never come 
 to any thing. You will not find, that 
 the thing will be liked. It were really 
 much better to allow matters quietly to 
 go on as they were. The people had 
 become accustomed to this practice, and 
 never ventured to murmur; while the 
 nobles had learned to consider it as their 
 undoubted privilege. It were safe, 
 therefore, with a view to both these 
 orders, not to attempt to carry through 
 so bold a measure as the present.
 
 ^20 
 
 AlVANDA to CORASMIN. 
 
 I HAVE received a letter from the 
 nobleman who supports the transaction 
 now coming before our tribunals. He 
 expresses considerable surprise at what 
 has been done; and intimates his assu- 
 rance, that, as a matter of course, his ap- 
 plication is to stop farther proceedings. 
 " Probably," says he, " you were not aware 
 that the man is under my protection ; 
 this, I presume, is quite enough, — above 
 all, on so trifling an occasion, — the first 
 time that I ever heard an affair of the 
 kind seriously treated. The other man is 
 of no consequence or consideration what- 
 ever. I am astonished that any atten- 
 I 3
 
 202 
 
 tion should have been paid to what he 
 has had the presumption to do. Truly, 
 we should be in a happy condition, were 
 such persons at liberty to conduct them- 
 selves thus towards those who are so 
 much their superiors." This is what he 
 writes me, and what I think proper to 
 communicate; though I do not expect 
 that it will have much weight in guid- 
 ing your decision. I myself, in promis- 
 ing to transmit it to you, could not 
 certainly engage, in any degree, to se- 
 cond the sohcitation. 
 
 CoRASMIN to AlVANDA. 
 
 I AM very well pleased to learn what 
 are the views and sentiments of the
 
 203 
 
 nobleman upon this affair. Of course, 
 not the smallest regard is to be paid to 
 them. I beg, however, that you will do 
 every thing possible to explain to him 
 our views in an amicable manner. In- 
 timate our fixed determination, that jus- 
 tice shall take its course ; but deny, as 
 with truth you may, any unfriendly in- 
 tentions, either against himself or his 
 order. Our only object is, to establish 
 public order and security on an im- 
 moveable basis. I cannot flatter myself 
 with the expectation, that you will suc- 
 ceed in convincing him that we act 
 right, or that he himself is not injured; 
 but we may, at least, mitigate the animo- 
 sity which this proceeding must kindle.
 
 ^04 
 
 ACTEMAD to CORASMIN. 
 
 t)uR views have been suddenly thwart- 
 ed, by an accident the most untoward. 
 So eager was the solicitation of the noble- 
 man, of his friends, of all connected with 
 him by similar interests, that the King 
 has given way. He has been surprised 
 into the issuing of an order to the Judge, 
 to decide in favour of the person who 
 has committed the wrong. The mandate 
 is accompanied with formidable threats, 
 in case of refusal. What is to be done ? 
 Delu rages, complains that he has been 
 deceived, betrayed ; that he will not sit 
 on his seat for another hour. I enclose a 
 letter this moment received from him.
 
 205 
 
 Muscat! again represents the impossi- 
 bility of making any resistance, the ab- 
 solute necessity of complying, and allow- 
 ing the irregularity to pass, at least in 
 this instance. We must all look to you 
 as the only person who possibly can 
 extricate us ; and even you, I fear, will 
 find the undertaking arduous. 
 
 Enclosure from Delu, 
 
 I UNDERSTOOD, whcu I acceptcd this 
 place, which I was most unwilling to do, 
 that I was to be left to act independent- 
 ly, and according to the dictates of my 
 own judgment; that there was never to 
 be any interference, such as once induced
 
 206 
 
 me to abandon it. Behold! scarcely am 
 I seated, when a mandate arrives, by 
 which I am ordered to commit an act of 
 acknowledged injustice. Is this, do you 
 suppose, the footing on which I am to 
 stand, with the name only of a judge ; in 
 reality, a mere instrument of court intri- 
 gue ? I beg you will present to his Ma- 
 jesty my immediate resignation. Some 
 one else must be found to do what the 
 court now requires to be done. I am not 
 a man to suit its present purposes. 
 
 CORASMIN to ACTEMAD. 
 
 I BEG that you will assure all con- 
 cerned, that there is not the slightest 
 intention of yielding. As for Delu,
 
 207 
 
 you may appeal to him, whether, on his 
 accepting the office, I did not pledge 
 myself to support him ? Was any thing 
 then necessary, except merely that I 
 should be apprized of the facts? Let 
 him pronounce sentence according to 
 the dictates of his own mind : I stand 
 between him and court resentment. I 
 will receive it entire. And now, my 
 friend, prepare yourself for whatever may 
 be the issue. I hope you are aware, that 
 if he goes, we all go with him. The 
 question will soon be determined.
 
 £08 
 
 From the Same to the Same. 
 
 I HAVE had a long interview with th^ 
 King. The moment I entered, and nam- 
 ed the subject, he exclaimed, " Oh! Co- 
 rasmin, I see well what you are think- 
 ing. Certainly the thing is not right; 
 but there are so many buzzing round me, 
 that, for this one time, it must even, I 
 suppose, be allowed to pass." " Sire," 
 said I, " this is the awful, the decisive 
 moment, which determines whether jus- 
 tice is to be established in Cashmire, or 
 whether anarchy and confusion shall 
 rule. This is the point, on which hinges 
 the success or failure of all our schemes. 
 If the rule is broken now, it will be vain
 
 209 
 
 to think of ever enforcing it." " Oh ! 
 I am determined to adhere to it; but 
 in this single instance I am so beset by 
 these men : — of course, it must not be al- 
 lowed to pass into a precedent." " Sire, 
 if we do it not now, we can never do it. 
 After granting this to one, could your 
 Majesty refuse a similar request to ano- 
 ther ? The offence would then be much 
 deeper; it would be personal. In at- 
 tempting, then, to maintain this resolu- 
 tion, we should be exposed to a perpetual 
 series of harassing solicitation : In short, 
 this must be the precedent, which all 
 future cases will follow. You are redress- 
 ing a thousand wrongs in one." " But, 
 observe, I really have gone so far, there 
 is scarcely room to retrace my steps." 
 ** Oh! Sire, I see it to be painful; but 
 this is the price that must be paid for the 
 happiness of your people : and what is too 
 much for a prize so inestimable ? Little 
 were the glory, did it cost nothing."
 
 210 
 
 '' Can you then point out a mode in 
 which I may recede ?" *' Sire, leave that 
 to me. This mandate has been surprised 
 from you clandestinely and unfairly. 
 But it is not necessary to recal it. The 
 judge will give the just sentence, and you 
 have only to stand aloof." '' Well indeed, 
 on considering, I am sensible how diffi- 
 cult it would be to support the rule, after 
 allowing it to be once broken. There 
 is no doubt Delu is in the right; let 
 him then follow the dictates of his own 
 mind, I withdraw my interference,"
 
 ^11 
 
 MUSCATI to CORASMIN. 
 
 Since you were determined to carry 
 your point, you have certainly extricated 
 yourself with great address out of the 
 last difficulty. But, if I am not misin- 
 formed, we shall soon have a much more 
 serious danger to encounter. You can- 
 not conceive the indignation which has 
 been kindled among the whole body of 
 the nobles. They insist, that their just 
 rights have been violated. It were too 
 much to hope that it should evaporate in 
 idle murmurs. I speak not upon vague 
 rumour; my information is at least equal 
 to that possessed by any one at court. 
 The most serious consequences are to be
 
 215 
 
 apprehended ; and I really conceive, that 
 it would be wiser to retrace our steps 
 with the best possible grace. After all, 
 I do not see the great evil that would 
 ensue. This is the way in which things 
 have gone on for a long period ; and, to 
 say the truth, the King makes his advan- 
 tage of it as well as the nobles. 
 
 CORASMIN to MUSCATI. 
 
 I AM much obliged to you for your 
 communication : I have no doubt of its 
 correctness. It was a subject to which 
 I intended to have immediately called 
 your attention, had not your vigilance 
 prevented me. Hope not that we will
 
 213 
 
 yield. This is a great and just measure, 
 which must be carried, cost what it may. 
 But you may be of the most important 
 use, by collecting through every channel 
 information of what is projecting; that, 
 learning all, we may crush it before it 
 proceeds to open violence. There is now 
 need of all your experience, ^all your at- 
 tention. You have access to know all 
 the springs by which these intrigues are 
 moved. Let every motion be narrowly 
 watched ; — you have Actemad closely 
 combined with you. The military force 
 is disposed so, that it can be brought to 
 act with rapidity upon every threatened 
 point. We must apply it only when 
 there is a real necessity, evident and 
 open ; but then it must be applied so 
 promptly and powerfully, as to crush 
 every thought of resistance. It were 
 of inexpressible importance, however, to 
 avoid such a catastrophe. Meantime, I 
 will open a communication with Allajup
 
 214 
 
 who stands at the head of the more re- 
 spectable class among the nobles, and 
 hope to prevail upon him not to concur 
 in these proceedings. 
 
 CORASMIN ^oAlLAJU. 
 
 Although I am fully convinced that 
 you take no share in the cabals which, 
 I regret to observe, are carried on by 
 some of your order, yet my high respect 
 for your situation and character makes 
 me wish to explain fully to you, the 
 motives of our late proceedings. Your 
 friend Alvanda will converse with you 
 at full length upon the subject. You 
 should wrong us greatly in supposing
 
 215 
 
 that we are unfriendly to your order. 
 Far from wishing to encroach on any of 
 your rights, we would rather give them 
 more independence and stabihty. We 
 should do so, both from respect for them- 
 selves, and from a conviction that they 
 contribute amply to the public welfare. 
 We would wish to rest the throne upon 
 you, as on its firmest prop. Whatever 
 real grievances you feel yourselves to la- 
 bour under, have only to be named : his 
 Majesty will not hesitate to lay down, for 
 himself and for his posterity, any fatal 
 prerogative of doing injustice : he has 
 done it, and will do it again. But he ex- 
 pects a similar disposition in return : The 
 protection of the people must, to him, be 
 the peculiar and first object. But none 
 shall be unjust to you, provided you are 
 unjust to none. I am led, therefore, to 
 hope, that you will not only withdraw 
 all support from the ill-disposed, but that
 
 £16 
 
 you will throw your powerful weight in- 
 to the scale of justice and public order. 
 
 AlLAJU to CORASMIN. 
 
 I CERTAINLY considcr it my duty to 
 watch over the privileges of the order to 
 which I belong. It does not follow, be- 
 cause a privilege has been abused, that 
 therefore we should lose it : The whole 
 body ought not to suffer for the wrongs 
 of one. However, I am, upon the whole, 
 satisfied with the explanations given me. 
 I certainly will never give my support 
 to the machinations now in agitation. 
 The conduct which has given rise to 
 these proceedings has been too much
 
 217 
 
 practised; it is what I never did myself, 
 nor ever approved of in others. I am 
 willing that it should be restrained by 
 law : If this be all, you need fear no op- 
 position from me. I regret much that 
 those disturbances should have arisen : 
 I will not only withhold all concurrence 
 in them, but will even assist in their sup- 
 pression, provided full security be given 
 me, that the penalties of their offence 
 shall not extend to the nobility in gene- 
 ral. 
 
 ACTEMAD to CORASMIN. 
 
 All is now discovered : We have trac- 
 ed every step of a conspiracy, which cer- 
 tainly had been fully organized. The 
 
 VOL. J. K
 
 ^18 
 
 day is fixed, which, they imagine, is to 
 secure to them a brilliant triumph, and 
 restore, with augmented lustre, every 
 threatened privilege. I am happy to say, 
 that no design appears as yet to be en- 
 tertained against the royal 'person ; but 
 they are determined to effect an entire 
 subversion of the present system, and 
 to establish one which shall be wholly 
 favourable to themselves. A few days 
 must decide which party shall triumph. 
 On our part, I trust, no precaution has 
 been omitted. 
 
 MUSCATI to CORASMIN. 
 
 All has succeeded to our utmost wish, 
 To-morrow was their day, but we antici-
 
 21^ 
 
 pated them. The ringleaders are secur- 
 ed, and in chains. Now comes the time 
 to punish, to teach them what it is to 
 form plots against us. His Majesty has 
 only to speak the word, and all their 
 heads are upon the block. Certainly we 
 ought to make a most signal example. 
 Such has always been the practice of this 
 government, whenever any resistance 
 like the present was attempted. The 
 worst part of the evil is thus rooted out; 
 and the terror inspired restrains the rest. 
 Let the pleasure of his Majesty be signi- 
 fied, and I shall take care that it be im- 
 mediately executed. Perpetual banish- 
 ment, of course, will be the most lenient 
 punishment ; and the confiscation of their 
 property will throw into the treasury a 
 most convenient supply.
 
 S20 
 
 CORASMIN to MUSCATI. 
 
 I HAVE learned with the utmost satis- 
 faction this complete success of our mea- 
 sures. I congratulate you upon it : to 
 you I ascribe a great share of the merit. 
 With regard to the punishment of the 
 guilty, I have fixed my resolution. Not 
 a drop of noble blood shall flow. No ba- 
 nishment ; no prescription ! Their pos- 
 sessions shall be restored entire. The King 
 has granted this to my earnest entreaty. 
 I am fully satisfied, that the dangers of 
 such a course will be infinitely less than 
 would be incurred by violent and sangui- 
 nary proceedings, and by the eternal re- 
 sentment whichthey would kindle. But
 
 221 
 
 now, when they lie at our feet; now is the 
 moment to extort a resignation of those 
 exemptions, those powers of arbitrary 
 jurisdiction, ruinous to their country, ul- 
 timately ruinous to themselves. This is 
 the use which I intend to make of our 
 victory. 
 
 I must own, that, inclined as the Sove- 
 reign is to clemency, I found some dif- 
 ficulty in prevailing upon him to extend 
 it thus far. " Surely," said he, *' a few 
 examples must be made ; something must 
 be done to strike terror." It was neces- 
 sary for me even to entreat in their fa- 
 vour. " My liege, you have been res- 
 pected ; it is against me alone that this 
 rage is directed : surely, then, I may be 
 heard when I plead for mercy. Let not 
 a leaven of bitterness remain: when the 
 proposed terms are accepted, let there be 
 free and full forgiveness." Thus I ob- 
 tained this boon. Benefits are yet m re- 
 serve, such as, I trust, will banish every
 
 2£2 
 
 remnant of dissatisfaction; but the mo- 
 ment for bestowing is not yet come. 
 
 COEASMIN to AlTUNO. 
 
 The foundation is now happily laid : 
 No further opposition can be dreaded to 
 the reign of justice, and the security of 
 the nation's rights. Now, I trust, when 
 the first barriers have fallen, our opera- 
 tions will proceed more smoothly and 
 rapidly. 
 
 There are still objects which urgently 
 claim my devoted attention. The con- 
 dition of the revenues was, from the first, 
 a subject of anxious interest. To draw 
 them out of the abyss into which they
 
 223 
 
 had sunk, seemed a task almost hopeless. 
 Large additional imposts would have 
 been necessary to answer the demands 
 jnade, yet the circumstances of the na- 
 tion urgently called for diminishing their 
 pressure. It was most necessary, if at 
 all possible, to lift from the neck of the 
 labourer that burden which now bound 
 him to the ground. We did not despair. 
 But the first question was, to ascertain 
 more precisely than it had been possible 
 to do, without official information, all 
 the present arrangements connected with 
 this department of administration. As 
 soon, then, as the reins of power came 
 into our hands, we began to penetrate 
 into the abyss. Mighty was the task! 
 The truth could be learned only from 
 those who knew that they would suffer 
 by its disclosure. Secrets must be de- 
 tected which thousands combined to 
 hide. Long and incessant assiduity 
 overcame these obstacles, and we have
 
 S24 
 
 at length obtained a pretty clear view of 
 all the arrangements connected with this 
 subject. Every new discovery augment- 
 ed our hope of being able, not only to 
 relieve the present embarrassment, but 
 speedily to remove those burdens which 
 weighed most heavily on the springs of 
 public prosperity. Imposts had been 
 laid on too often, without regard to any 
 consideration besides that of effectually 
 raising a revenue. No regard to their 
 pressure on the most necessitous orders ; 
 no profound consideration of the princi- 
 ples of political economy, or of the light 
 which it threw on their ultimate ten- 
 dency ! If tenderness were shewn to 
 any, it was always to those whose power 
 was dreaded ; yet these were the persons 
 who could have borne them most easily. 
 Above all, when we examined the chan- 
 nels through which that which was taken 
 from the people arrived at the Crown, 
 ample cause was found for the sufferings
 
 225 
 
 of Cashmire. This was an evil within 
 our reach, and the continuance of which 
 was least of all to be tolerated. After 
 knowing all the mischiefs, however, to 
 apply a remedy was no easy task. The 
 system, by long continuance, had be- 
 come firm and compact; it held strong- 
 ly within itself the maladies under which 
 it laboured. The wounds were to be 
 touched with a skilful and tender hand. 
 Great allowance was to be made for 
 those who had to plead the temptations 
 presented by negligence, and who seem- 
 ed merely to have been carried along by 
 the torrent. Towards them lenient mea- 
 sures were adopted. Some signal exam- 
 ples were made of such as had flagrantly 
 violated their trust: this struck a gene- 
 ral terror. But to the rest was granted 
 an oblivion of the past; and they were 
 only warned of the awful necessity which 
 now existed, for adhering strictly to the 
 rules which had been established. Al- 
 K 3
 
 226 
 
 ready happy effects have been experi- 
 enced, of which we anticipate with con- 
 fidence the continual augmentation. 
 
 But there was another evil still greater 
 than even the weight of these imposi- 
 tions ; this was their uncertainty. No 
 care had been taken to establish precise- 
 ly what each was to pay : the persons 
 employed were left to extract money in 
 almost any manner that promised to be 
 effectual. Hence arose the most dread- 
 ful evils. Woe to him who exhibited an 
 appearance of prosperity ; to whom even 
 the suspicion of opulence could attach ! 
 Unless powerfully protected, he became 
 the resource for supplying every defi- 
 ciency : pretences were never wanting 
 to overwhelm him with arbitrary and 
 ruinous exactions. Hence^ a general as- 
 pect of poverty spread over the nation ; 
 wealth, if there were any, secreted as a 
 guilty possession ; all exertion, all in- 
 dustry, paralyzed. This certainly could
 
 227 
 
 be prevented ; and it behoved us that 
 not a moment should be lost. Care was 
 taken, that every charge should be fixed 
 as precisely as words could fix it; that 
 the whole nation should be informed of 
 it as fully as those whom we immedi- 
 ately employed. Above all, the means 
 of redress to those wronged, were placed 
 fully within their reach ; and instruc- 
 tions were given, that, when doubts 
 arose, it was on their side that the leaning 
 was to be. These measures were pro- 
 secuted with all the ardour inspired by 
 a sense of their profound importance : 
 they are now brought nearly to their 
 completion. 
 
 A most valuable opportunity for over- 
 throwing the obstacles which opposed 
 these arrangements was presented, when 
 the entire failure of their late attempts 
 placed us in a condition to give law to 
 the order of the nobles. Then, with- 
 out entrenching on any of those essen-
 
 228 
 
 tial rights by which its dignity was 
 supported, we could extort the resigna- 
 tion of those which pressed hard upon 
 the people ; of all which screened them 
 from a just share of the common burden. 
 But while we thus provided for the 
 most economical and least burdensome 
 mode of collecting the revenue, there 
 was another quarter which was not to be 
 viewed with less anxiety. The funds 
 thus obtained were not to be dissipated 
 in thoughtless profusion. Difficulties 
 arose here, even from the benignant drs- 
 position of the Sovereign. Continually 
 besieged by solicitations, he granted, 
 with careless ease, whatever was asked. 
 Some plausible reason was always ready : 
 "The sum is small; he says he cannot 
 live without it; really I could not refuse 
 the poor man." It would have cost a 
 hard struggle to have openly attacked 
 this propensity. I allowed it therefore 
 for some time to proceed without oppo-
 
 229 
 
 sition, till, at length, selecting several 
 cases where the abuse was most flagrant, 
 I took care that his INIajesty should be 
 informed of them. He was astonished. 
 " Heavens ! what shocking abuse ; the 
 man who has done this must indeed be 
 severely punished." '^ I am afraid. Sire, 
 did we apply the rule with rigour, there 
 would be many to punish." " I wish then 
 an inquiry to be made into all who have 
 obtained sums from me under such pre- 
 tences : I fear, indeed, it will be great." 
 Great it certainly proved; and his Ma- 
 jesty, after some deliberation, said, " It is 
 vain to think, Corasmin, of punishing 
 all; but one thing I have now deter- 
 mined, which is, never to grant any peti- 
 tion of this nature, without first referring 
 it to my ministers, who may examine if 
 the claim be well founded. Let this be 
 announced as the rule which is hence- 
 foith to be invariably adhered to." It 
 was the precise point which I was
 
 230 
 
 anxious to reach. I was confident, that 
 when the circumstances were laid fully 
 before him, he would not support any 
 false or unjust claim. Having secured 
 this object, the way was open to establish 
 through the whole department a system 
 of regularity and economy. 
 
 From the Same to the Same, 
 
 I MENTIONED my intention of doing 
 something to improve the condition of 
 the body of the nobles, for which I wait- 
 ed only till the recent commotions had 
 subsided, and there could be no danger 
 of our concessions being ascribed to in- 
 timidation. This body, indeed, had for-
 
 231 
 
 nierly possessed the power of oppressing 
 the inferior orders; but, in the general 
 disorder, it was itself exposed to proceed- 
 ings, which rendered the dignity, and 
 even existence of its members precarious. 
 It was, from the first, our determination 
 to avail ourselves of no precedent for 
 such irregular acts; on the contrary, we 
 checked their exercise as far as our influ- 
 ence extended. The observation of this 
 had a powerful influence in securing the 
 allegiance of all that was most respecta- 
 ble in this order. But there were also 
 many which were considered as inherent 
 rights of the Crown, and which, when- 
 ever the occasions arose, were exercised 
 even without any positive order. These 
 occasions, too, were precisely those in 
 which they were felt with peculiar seve- 
 rity. On the death of any member of 
 this order, his family became exposed 
 to a variety of exactions : they were 
 often entirely stripped of their wealth
 
 9,39. 
 
 and dignities. Thus this order possessed 
 no stabihty, and not only were the most 
 cruel sufferings often inflicted, but a situ- 
 ation so precarious left no room for that 
 dignity of character which is generated 
 by a sense of independence and heredi- 
 tary right. I determined to use every 
 effort in order to prevail upon Vizignan 
 to forego claims so pernicious. An op- 
 portunity was presented, by the death 
 of a nobleman of distinction, and of cha- 
 racter highly respectable, whose proper- 
 ty, by the established rules, fell almost 
 entirely into the power of the Crown, 
 leaving a numerous family destitute. It 
 was only necessary to mention the facts, 
 in order to make the King at once ex- 
 press a determination to advance no 
 claim in this mstance : but such was not 
 the object at which I aimed. ^' Sire," 
 said I, " I expected nothing less from 
 the experienced beneficence of your cha- 
 racter. But let us consider : Few cases,
 
 233 
 
 indeed, are so very severe ; yet, whenever 
 the same thhig is done in any degree, 
 there must be some hardship, some in- 
 justice. Would it not be worthy of the 
 generosity of your Majesty, finally to re- 
 nounce such a privilege. You would 
 then no longer grow rich on the spoils 
 of the widow and the orphan." ^' I am 
 fully sensible, Corasmin, that the prac- 
 tice were better entirely omitted. Most 
 gladly should I agree to it. But is not 
 this a privilege which all sovereigns be- 
 fore me have exercised? and if I thus 
 give up my revenue, how is my dignity 
 to be supported ? or how are we to pro- 
 vide for the exigencies of the state?" 
 " Sire, if I do not, in a year, triple the 
 revenue derived from this source, I shall 
 consent most heartily to its resumption." 
 " Well, indeed I shall certainly not ob- 
 ject to wait the issue of such an experi-? 
 ment."
 
 234 
 
 From the Same to the Same. 
 
 You inquire with a friendly interest 
 into my private life; into the manner in 
 which I spend those intervals which 
 must occur, even amid a round of the 
 most urgent employments ? Whenever 
 relaxation becomes necessary, the means 
 are ample. Every source of amusement 
 is at my command ; every door is open, 
 every face is dressed in smiles. But this 
 universal welcome, in itself little flatter- 
 ing, is attended with dangers against 
 which I must continually guard. I can- 
 not but see and know, that there are 
 secret motives for these eager attentions : 
 I am aware of the construction which
 
 235 
 
 might be put upon their acceptance. 
 Yet such is the human heart, so great 
 the power of that polished and insinuat- 
 ing address, which is here carried to per- 
 fection, tljat it is not always easy for a 
 man to defend himself against these 
 influences; it is surer, often, to fly than 
 to resist. Flattery, that serpent, which 
 hides itself under flowers so fair; which 
 insinuates itself through the minutest 
 crevices into the heart, to lodge there its 
 delicious poison: this is the enemy from 
 which I am continually in danger. 
 
 But if I must thus deny myself to 
 some pleasures, there remains an ample 
 store of the highest and purest. I have 
 friends raised high above the rest of 
 mankind, by every quality which can se- 
 cure confidence, esteem, love. To their 
 society I can devote myself with unmix- 
 ed pleasure, without the dread of any 
 lurking snare, without any alloy of dread 
 or precaution. Meantime, pleasures not
 
 236 
 
 to be despised are afforded by the pro- 
 ductions of all the arts, which are here 
 highly improved, and to which we hope 
 soon to communicate a new impulse. 
 
 Yet do not these pleasing avocations 
 so wholly engross me, but that some in- 
 tervals are still reserved for entire soli- 
 tude. These are of influence most salu- 
 tary, to give repose to the soul after the 
 tumultuous agitation of public life. I 
 have secured a small retreat, situated 
 immediately on the banks of the lake, 
 which appears beneath, almost touch- 
 ing the windows. Around is a varied 
 scenery of winding shores, tufted islands, 
 wooded promontories stretching* far into 
 the waters; and, at a distance, appear 
 white sails passing and repassing. This 
 is, indeed, a sacred retreat from the tem- 
 pest of human passions. Hither, when 
 sickened by art, and by the contest of 
 jarrmg elements, hither I fly. Here the 
 glittering veil, which elsewhere covers
 
 QS7 
 
 all the objects around me, spontaneously 
 drops of, and nature and man resume 
 their genuine aspect. Here I am restor- 
 ed to heaven and to myself. 
 
 You recal me to the subject of Sel- 
 mida, and of the deep sentiments with 
 which she inspired me. Do not suppose 
 that the interest has decayed in my 
 heart. But, view my situation. It is 
 not permitted to me to devote myself to 
 any private passion, even the purest and 
 best. I am engaged in a cause to which 
 all my powers, however concentrated, 
 would still be unequal. Fixed as is my 
 purpose to proceed upon no superficial 
 or doubtful observation, yet not to sacri- 
 fice a single public object to the inquiry, 
 my progress in it is necessarily slow. 
 When first such great interests were 
 solely entrusted to me, I could not ad- 
 mit an idea which did not relate to them ; 
 it was necessary to shun every thing 
 which could turn in another direction
 
 ■ 1 
 
 the current of my thoughts. After the 
 first arrangements have been made, and 
 affairs begin to proceed in the wished- for 
 train, a self-denial so strict is no longer 
 required. I have again seen her more 
 than once ; nor is my impression now dif- 
 ferent from that which I first received. 
 I experience, indeed, in her manner, a 
 degree of reserve and distance still more 
 marked than before. Still, however, I 
 flatter myself that it does not arise from 
 any unfriendly feeling : It seems rather 
 to be the reserve of a mind entrenching 
 itself in conscious worth, jealous of the 
 claims which might be advanced by place 
 and power, and determined never to yield, 
 unless to personal considerations alone. 
 But it is not yet my part to make any 
 efforts to overcome this reserve ; for 
 think not that aught is finally resolved. 
 Too awful is the dread of uniting myself « 
 to any except one who could share my 
 most secret thoughts. I have yet seen
 
 239 
 
 and heard only a little : I have still 
 much to inquire, to ascertain. For this 
 purpose aid will not be wanting. From 
 the moment that my attention appeared at 
 all to be thus turned, many became envi- 
 ous of the lot which it is in my power to 
 offer. This is fortunate for me ; I have 
 thus full assurance of hearing all that it 
 can be possible to say. I must listen, 
 still, indeed, with caution, not lightly to 
 relinquish such hopes; and here, I be- 
 lieve, there is little room for apprehen- 
 sion. I must listen and inquire ; and 
 must fully ascertain, of every charge I 
 hear, on what real foundation it rests. 
 In what I have as yet heard there is 
 nothing to move me. Either the alle- 
 gations were trivial, and magnified only 
 by the medium through which they were 
 viewed, or the slightest observation was 
 suthcient to refute them ; nay, some there 
 were which undesignedly raised my idea 
 of her against whom they were directed.
 
 240 
 
 But still opportunity has not been given 
 fully to bear all that may be said- and I 
 still wait, in fearful anxiety, lest a word 
 should dispel the bright enchantment 
 which now glitters before me. 
 
 From the Same to the Same. 
 
 My inquiries still continue into the 
 subject on which I last wrote you. I 
 have at length heard something which 
 does indeed merit serious consideration. 
 Have you heard of Jellal ? probably you 
 must, and somewhat perhaps of his cha- 
 racter. I really have not much to say 
 against him. In the circle in which he 
 flutters he is very well ; and there is no
 
 reason why society sliould not have a 
 few of such frivolous emhellishments. 
 But that one endowed with thought, or 
 any nobleness of character, should at- 
 tach themselves to him, is to me beyond 
 all conception. Yet I am assured, in a 
 manner which really it is impossible to 
 doubt, that not only is he assiduous in 
 his attentions, but that these are receiv- 
 ed with visible complacency. Imagine 
 not that I am jealous of Jellal ; it were 
 impossible that I ever should. Of her 
 whom he can please, never could I enter- 
 tain a thought : I could not be his rival. 
 But I am anxious and eager to ascertain, 
 whether she be really one to whom such 
 accomplishments are congenial. It is 
 necessary that the question should be 
 speedily determined : — scarcely can I re- 
 sist the rapid progress which she is mak- 
 ing in my affections. I feel that the 
 time may soon come, when, after the 
 fullest conviction, I may still cling to 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 242 
 
 her in spite of myself; when, if she is 
 torn from the seat she occupies, it will 
 only be after dreadful efforts. 
 
 From the Same to the Same. 
 
 I HAVE seen Jellal and Selmida toge- 
 ther. Almost the first word was suffi- 
 cient to dispel my alarms. It was evi- 
 dently a v^ry gay and careless pleasure, 
 indeed, with which his society could 
 inspire her ; she had completely sounded 
 his depth. The good-nature with which 
 she listened, was such as, even to him, 
 could not inspire a gleam of hope. I 
 laughed at myself for having felt any un- 
 easiness from such a source.
 
 243 
 
 But if all apprehensions oil this ground 
 are at an end, others have opened which 
 call for still more serious attention. — 
 Good Heavens ! it is impossible ; never 
 can I believe such a charge ; — Selmida 
 devoted to play, ruinously devoted to it 1 
 She and this Hindali, her intimate friend, 
 whom I once met there, and who pleas- 
 ed me so much, are the leaders in this 
 horrid association. The charge is urg- 
 ed, indeed, with evident malignity, and 
 I have no faith in the professed motives 
 of those who advance it; yet are the 
 circumstances told, plausible ; and evi- 
 dence, which would scarcely leave room 
 for doubt, is confidently oiFered. I do 
 not, and will not believe it; yet still it 
 is dreadful to be obliged to make the 
 inquiry. Never could there be on earth 
 such a barrier of separation between us 
 as this would raise. To have a creature 
 thus charming making the solicitations 
 to which she would be continually tempt-
 
 244 
 
 ed; to have a boundless gulf of expense 
 thus opened ; — this were a danger from 
 which I must shrink as from the most 
 dreadful into which it were possible to 
 be precipitated. There certainly is -in 
 her something that is good : Her guilt 
 may admit of much palliation : Powerful 
 surely were the temptations by which 
 she was seduced into it. There may 
 even be hope, great hope, of reclaiming 
 her; but it is not for me to undertake 
 the task. No ; if it be so, I have nothing 
 left but to abandon her for .ever. With 
 a heavy and fearful heart I proceed to 
 the inquiry. At least, with the means 
 of information which are offered, I can 
 scarcely be held long in suspense.
 
 245 
 
 From the Same to the SmM. 
 
 In my last I intimated an expectation 
 of some farther light being soon thrown 
 upon the charge against Selmida. I have 
 those around me who are eager to supply 
 the means of detecting every blemish 
 which her character may exhibit. In 
 proof of the dreadful allegation which 
 had been made, a very simple test was 
 offered. I was assured, that if I merely 
 rode out in a certain direction, I should 
 receive visible evidence of what had been 
 asserted. I went; and then, indeed, at 
 a certain point of the road, I saw the 
 two friends coming, apparently from the 
 very quarter that had been named as the
 
 246' 
 
 scene of this guilty rendezvous. I shud* 
 dered. Still, however, nothing was prov- 
 ed : Any chance, any incident the most 
 common, might have conducted them 
 hither. I approached and joined them, 
 in hopes of drawing out an explanation 
 which might set my fears at rest. On 
 seeing me, there did appear a confusion ; 
 and they looked at each other as if there 
 were something between them into 
 which I was not to be admitted. I 
 entered into conversation, and did every 
 thing which was possible, without a 
 breach of politeness, to extract their 
 secret. Every question, however, was 
 evaded ; and I was more and more sadly 
 convinced, that this evasion was design- 
 ed and studied. At every question 
 which seemed to press upon the word, 
 visible symptoms appeared of their first 
 uneasiness ; and looks were exchanged, 
 as if of consultation, what it were best 
 to say. Not only did I receive no satis-
 
 247 
 
 faction, but it was left beyond a doubt 
 that there was something over which a 
 veil was to be thrown. I could scarcely, 
 even from what transpired, hesitate to 
 believe, that the place on which my sus- 
 picions rested was precisely that from 
 which they had come ; and ever, as the 
 conversation touched it more nearly, 
 their emotion obviously increased. After 
 seeing that I had no farther discovery 
 to hope, I snatched the first opportunity 
 of taking leave, and returned home over- 
 whelmed with the most painful sensa- 
 tions. Such a coincidence of circum- 
 stances, — this confusion, these blushes, — 
 all appear as confirmations of the cruel 
 secret. Yet there is still nothing final ; 
 nothing to exclude the hope that all may- 
 be explained : and this is an object which 
 it behoves me not lightly to extinguish. 
 Before abandoning such bright hopes, I 
 must be fully assured of their being illu- 
 sory. But there is enough to fill me with
 
 248 
 
 mortal alarm. Above all, there is an ur- 
 gent necessity to tear her from that seat 
 in my affections, into which she is sink- 
 ing still deeper and deeper. I blush to 
 think, that, after what I have heard, 
 what I have seen, her image still lives 
 there as bright as before. Even as I 
 dwell on this theme, her eyes, her voice, 
 her feeling and eloquent language, rise 
 before me, and I can no longer believe 
 that she is any thing but what these 
 would declare. This is what I must no 
 longer suffer : Her idea must be forcibly 
 excluded, and other thoughts, of which 
 there is so ample a store, must fill its 
 place. This image, rendered more dim, 
 will then plead less powerfully. Above 
 all, I must have recourse to absence. I 
 will see her no more, till I know that I 
 can do it with safety.
 
 249 
 
 From the Same to the Same. 
 
 I CLOSED my last letter, with the de- 
 termination of never more going to Chi- 
 nar, till I had formed my final judgment 
 of the object that attracted me thither. 
 Alas 1 my friend, the very next day I 
 found myself, Avithout knowing how, far 
 on the road to that place. I stopped : Re- 
 gard to my resolution, to consistency, 
 called upon me to return. But to see 
 her once again, to take one last view, 
 was too tempting; and I persuaded my- 
 self that there were points to examine, 
 to scrutinize, formerly overlooked. I 
 went on deliberating, till I was too near 
 l3
 
 250 
 
 to think of returning. But what then 
 did I see ? You must know, that another 
 spot, at a small distance from her own 
 residence, and which was now very near, 
 had been mentioned to me as the country 
 rendezvous of her party. On the road, 
 then, from thence, I discovered one, 
 whom, though seen indistinctly through 
 the trees, I instantly, by the air and at- 
 titude, recognized to be herself At 
 sight of me she stopped, hesitated, then 
 believing apparently, (and it might so 
 appear to those who knew not the watch- 
 ful eyes of a lover), that she was unob- 
 served, she struck off suddenly into a 
 different route. At an event so inauspi- 
 cious to my hopes, I at first determined 
 to return. Then considering, that by 
 seeing her I might have an opportunity, 
 either of drawing forth an explanation, 
 or of ascertaining that there was none to 
 give, I resolved to proceed. As soon as, 
 by a slight allusion which I made, she
 
 251 
 
 perceived herself to have been discover- 
 ed, the same embarrassment, the same 
 confusion followed. She did not attempt 
 to deny that it had been herself; this 
 was well : But her flutter, the awkward 
 reason which she stammered for her dis- 
 appearance, proved too clearly that here, 
 too, there was some fearful myster}^ 
 After vain attempts to penetrate it, I 
 rose and took my leave. 
 
 Such has been the result of my almost 
 involuntary visit. The cloud which had 
 gathered over this fair prospect, thus 
 falls deeper and deeper. I can scarcely 
 doubt that something, which cannot be 
 owned, is hid beneath these fatal visits. 
 Yet certainly there is much excelle'nce 
 i;i this creature, though, I fear, thus 
 cruelly alloyed. I have traced her in 
 the country round, in the villages, in the 
 cottages of the peasantry ; every-where 
 she is spoken of as a guardian angel. I 
 have traced, not an instinctive impulse,
 
 252 
 
 which lavishes without thought on the 
 objects of its commiseration, but a wise 
 and thoughtful beneficence ; one which 
 considered, in an enlarged view, the true 
 interest of those in whose favour it is 
 exerted. How glaring, how inconceiv- 
 able the inconsistency! I still cherish 
 the hope that she will be justified; and 
 yet I can scarcely imagine how. 
 
 From the Same to the Same, 
 
 Just as I was beginning again to hope, 
 beginning to trust that some light would 
 penetrate through the present cloud, I 
 have been struck with a more mortal 
 blow than ever. The enemies of Selmida,
 
 S53 
 
 who, to say the truth, are indefatigable 
 in their exertions, seem now indeed to 
 have given a full proof how devoted she 
 is to this dreadful passion. To supply 
 her necessities, I was assured that she 
 had recently disposed of a diamond 
 of great value, wh^ich was now in the 
 possession of an eminent dealer in that 
 commodity. I ascertained the fact ; in- 
 deed I myself knew the ring, and had 
 observed her wear it. However, this was 
 not enough : I wished also to make trial 
 of the emotion which the sight of it 
 would cause. Some accident, some exi- 
 gency, might have induced her to part 
 with it. I bought the diamond, put it 
 on my own finger, and, with a palpitat- 
 ing fearful heart, went to Chinar. I 
 entered, all eagerness to discover the im- 
 pression that was to be made. I was 
 soon satisfied : her eyes were instantly 
 fixed on the fatal ring, and instantly the 
 blood left her cheek. The words which
 
 254 
 
 she was uttering trembled and died : My 
 heart, too, died within me. This seemed 
 a fatal confirmation of my worst fears. 
 I now held her almost as quite lost to 
 me; yet, accounting this the final inter- 
 view, I still lingered. She soon resumed 
 her serenity, though ever, as she glanced 
 at the object of her first emotion, a faint 
 return of it was visible. The conversa- 
 tion, however, became animated, and 
 her's displayed, in full lustre, all those 
 charms by which I had been so deeply 
 captivated. What misery ! to have her 
 thus endeared to me at the very moment 
 when there impended such an awful ne- 
 cessity of for- ever renouncing her ; and 
 yet, with what rapture I listened ! A 
 persuasion continually seized me, that 
 though there was confusion, it was not 
 the confusion of guilt. But how, situat- 
 ed as my heart now is, can I trust to its 
 making so nice, so difficult a distinction ? 
 Oh nO; no ! all my hopes die within me.
 
 ^55 
 
 Proof now amounts almost to certainty^ 
 I will persevere in the inquiry so long as 
 a doubt remains. But I must not, by 
 hoping, prepare for myself new pangs : 
 I must steadily contemplate the worst 
 issue, as that which I must be fully pre- 
 pared to encounter. 
 
 From the Same to the Same, 
 
 Since my last I have had new suffer- 
 ings to endure. — I had gone out, during 
 an interval of leisure, to take a walk into 
 the country, and my steps involuntarily 
 turned into their wonted path. I saved 
 myself, however, from entering; I merely 
 hovered round its confines. Here, in my
 
 256 
 
 mournful wanderings, I was attracted by 
 a little spot, so rich in rural beauty, that 
 for a moment it banished the recollec- 
 tion of what I was suffering. It was 
 composed of a li-ttle eminence, irregularly 
 covered with detached trees, hillocks, 
 and groves, through the openings of 
 which glittered a streamlet, which form- 
 ed, in descending, a variety of little cas- 
 cades. I was tempted to explore a scene 
 so pleasing. But in ascending, I soon 
 found, that its immediate beauties were 
 eclipsed by those of the prospect which 
 it commanded over the valley beneath. 
 A circuit of gentle hills was seen enclos- 
 ing a pastoral region, through which the 
 Jalama softly meandered. From the 
 summit too appeared, towering far be- 
 hind, the awful pinnacles of distant 
 mountains. I admired the felicity which, 
 at every point, opened the finest views 
 over the prospect beneath and around. 
 Sometimes extensive views were disclos-
 
 257 
 
 ed ; but more generally those partial 
 glimpses, those dim and visionary gleams 
 through interposing foliage, which are 
 so much more pleasing to the imagina- 
 tion. Yet all was arranged with such 
 care, that it seemed at first the work of 
 nature's hand. Soon, however, it became 
 evident, that the most refined art had 
 been employed ; that all had been plan- 
 ned by an eye to which the most secret 
 charms of nature were familiar. What 
 eye was that? A secret presentiment 
 arose. I discovered an old man who was 
 labouring at a little distance. I ap- 
 proached : " Friend, who has employed 
 you to dress this httle spot?" " Ah, sir, 
 it is my young mistress, the lady Selmi- 
 da; this is her ground. A little odd, per- 
 haps, you may think it; but such is her 
 fancy. I am always glad to do any thing 
 for her, she desires it so sweetly, just as 
 if one were doing her a kindness. I 
 never feel any work so light as that done
 
 258 
 
 for her." It was necessary for me to 
 hasten away. Here was a new charm 
 opened in the object of this fatal passion. 
 All that had enchanted me was as it were 
 herself; her taste, her soul was in all. 
 Independent of the high qualities which 
 seemed to me to exist in her, what a 
 source of pleasure would be opened by a 
 taste so congenial ! In how many respects 
 do our hearts seem made for each other; 
 and yet how dreadful a bar separates 
 them ! This idea, which I was soon com- 
 pelled to readmit, poisoned all the plea- 
 sure which I had at first felt; and a cruel 
 conflict followed. I sunk into a paroxysm 
 of despair, and the most charming crea- 
 ture on earth seemed for ever lost to me. 
 Then hope again revived, and I was tossed 
 by a fluctuation of opposite passions, to 
 which I scarcely can discover a period.
 
 259 
 
 From the Same to the Same. 
 
 Oh, my Friend, into what an abyss am 
 I now sunk ! After all that I have heard, 
 after the little hope that remains of Sel- 
 mida being such as I seek, there is some- 
 thing in the inmostpartof my soul which 
 refuses to believe, and continually pleads 
 for her. I feel even a dreadful tempta- 
 tion to sue for her, whatever it may cost ; 
 to forget every consideration, but how to 
 make her mine ! But, worse than all, I 
 begin to feel an effect, which it seemed 
 before that nothing on earth could pro- 
 duce. The welfare of those over whose 
 destinies I preside, excites not altogether
 
 260 
 
 equal ardour : this image begins to appear 
 more dim. Little did I think, that any 
 single object should dispute the empire of 
 my heart with that which reigned so long 
 supreme and sole. But so it must not be. 
 I feel, that while I inquire, while I lose 
 myself in musings and conjectures, this 
 idea, thus constantly occupying my 
 thoughts, binds itself always closer 
 around me. To escape will soon be al- 
 most impossible. I must not therefore 
 see her, nor think of her : She must be- 
 come to me as if she had never existed. 
 I am determined, and will do it. You 
 will see that in my next she shall not 
 even be named.
 
 ^6l 
 
 From the Same to the Same. 
 
 We have done our utmost to secure 
 the nation in its just rights; to secure 
 them at once against the violence of the 
 nobles, and against the exactions prac- 
 tised by our own officers. But there 
 still remain heavy weights which press 
 on the springs of public prosperity. 
 Commerce, above all, was robbed of that 
 liberty by which alone it can be made 
 to flourish. Districts, formed for the 
 supply of each other's wants, were as use- 
 less to each other as if mountains or im- 
 passable deserts intervened. Sometimes 
 a man possessed of influence had used it, 
 to secure the monopoly of a particular
 
 262 
 
 commodity, and to exclude all rivals. 
 The Government itself, from a vain hope 
 of securing ample sources of gain, often 
 seized the exclusive right of vending 
 those articles which were in most gene- 
 ral demand. Nor was it seldom, that an 
 unenlightened zeal to promote the bene- 
 fit of certain provinces, led to the exclu- 
 sion from thence of all rival commodities. 
 Thus, from various causes, fetters were 
 continually formed, which chained all 
 the efforts that individuals would have 
 spontaneously made to improve their 
 own and the public fortune. ** Sire," 
 said I, " you have removed the load that 
 hung on the arm of industry ; allow it 
 now a wider field in which to expatiate. 
 Give to commerce, liberty : This is the 
 vital principle on which its life and 
 growth depend ; thus is plenty to be 
 spread over your land. These chains 
 which confine the efibrts of industry; 
 which blast, as they burst forth, all the
 
 9,63 
 
 buds of enterprise and activity; these 
 chains must be broken." I wished, how- 
 ever, sensibly to impress the King with 
 the importance of the measures which 
 I was now to propose; and an opportu- 
 nity occurred, in the course of a short 
 excursion which we were taking through 
 a district in the neighbourhood of the 
 capital. I took occasion to observe, how 
 amply this territory was qualified to 
 afford supplies of a commodity, under 
 the wixnt of which the city had of late 
 suffered severely. Vizignan then said, 
 *' Now, surely, this is a proof of what I 
 formerly urged to you. There is an in- 
 nate sluggishness in these men : nothing 
 else could have deterred them from en- 
 gaging in a branch of industry which 
 would have yielded ample profits. Yet 
 they regard only their own supply." 
 ^•' Sire, it is by your own express orders 
 that they follow this course : were they 
 to do otherwise, they would violate your
 
 264 
 
 most positive injunctions." ** Is it possi- 
 ble ?" "In ten minutes I will shew you 
 the order," " Well, at least it shall not 
 be so for ten minutes longer. — Now, Co- 
 rasmin, I see plainly all the evils which 
 you have pointed out to me, as arising 
 from this system : I am determined to 
 break it down. But could we venture 
 at once to overthrow all these barriers, 
 and introduce so mighty a change ?" 
 ^* Far from it; never should I give such 
 an advice to your Majesty. We must 
 proceed only by gradual steps : We must 
 begin with steadily shutting the door 
 against any new restraint, and then con- 
 sider how gradually to dissolve those 
 which actually exist. We must gradu- 
 ally loosen the bands by which industry 
 is cramped ; must remove, by a succession 
 of gentle efforts, obstacles which would 
 have resisted a direct and violent attack. 
 And, Sire, you have here an opportunity 
 of yourself making what may seem a
 
 ^65 
 
 sacrifice for your people's good. An at- 
 tempt is made to monopolize, for the use 
 of the treasury, a number of commodities 
 that are in most general demand. It is 
 incredible how little this produces, yet 
 liow much misery it causes. Waste and 
 confusion, beyond what it is possible to 
 checl<L, reign in every department: in- 
 numerable offenders are created, who 
 would never otherwise have been such. 
 I can perceive no obstacle to the imme- 
 diate extinction of this ruinous system. 
 There is no class in so.ciety that will 
 not thus be benefited ; the few who suffer 
 will be those who are employed in con- 
 ducting it ; persons whose merits, I sus- 
 pect, are often not very distinguished : 
 but for these a moderate and reasonable 
 compensation will easily be found." *' I 
 can easily conceive, that the system you 
 have mentioned must press hard upon the 
 people : to relieve it would give me the 
 sincerest pleasure. But you are aware, 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 266 
 
 that some regard must be paid to the 
 condition of the treasury; the necessary 
 funds must still be preserved : Tell me, 
 do you think it safe to part with this 
 source of revenue?" " Sire," said I, "never 
 should I have named the subject to your 
 Majesty, had I not been prepared for 
 this difficulty. In half an hour I will 
 shew you an arrangement, by which the 
 Crown will sensibly gain, yet vast relief 
 be afforded to the people." On examin- 
 ing this plan the King was satisfied, and 
 measures will immediately be taken for 
 carrying this important measure into ex- 
 ecution.
 
 9.67 
 
 Fi'om the Same to the Same, 
 
 I MENTIONED in my last, how, in esta- 
 blishing commercial freedom, the obsta- 
 cles on the part of the Sovereign were 
 easily removed. More management was 
 required in those in which the interest 
 of powerful individuals was involved. 
 It had been the practice, that those who 
 were either powerful or in favour at 
 court, who were loved or feared, should 
 be propitiated by a monopoly. It was 
 deemed the cheapest and easiest mode of 
 reward ; it cost nothing to the Sovereign, 
 and fell only on the people. Demands 
 continued to be made almost daily; and 
 the good humour of the King rendered
 
 26S 
 
 it a hard task for him to refuse. One, in 
 particular, was claimed by a nobleman 
 so powerful, and possessing such favour, 
 that most of the ministers, and above all 
 Muscati, advised submission as abso- 
 lutely necessary. I determined, however, 
 not to yield. I was resolved immove- 
 ably to resist every one who invaded 
 and sought to shut up the channels of 
 public industry. However, I gave di- 
 rections that every thing should be done 
 to avoid offending this nobleman, and 
 to convince him, that no personal feel- 
 ing, no failure in the respect due to 
 rank and character, prompted my deter- 
 mination. " It was from the high con- 
 sideration which he enjoyed, that we 
 were led to dread the contagious influ- 
 ence of his example." Every thing pos- 
 sible was done to convince him of the 
 injurious nature of the claim which he 
 was urging, and to induce him volunta- 
 rily to desist We did not entirely sue-
 
 269 
 
 ceed ; yet were we thus able to prevent 
 him from breaking forth into any expres- 
 sions of open discontent. Thus, to the 
 pubhc he appeared to acquiesce ; and so 
 strong a precedent estabHshed, went far 
 to remove all obstacles, and to silence 
 every other claimant. 
 
 END OF VOLUME FIRST. 
 
 Walker and Greig, Printers, 
 Edinburgh.
 
 r 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS-URBAN A 
 
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