{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_35595/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_35595","id":"gutenberg_35595","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/35595","summary":null,"tags":["Category: French Literature","Category: Humour","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Science-Fiction & Fantasy","French fiction -- Translations into English"],"text":"</pre>\nVOLTAIRE'S ROMANCES\n\nTRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH.\n\n_A NEW EDITION_,\n\nWITH NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS.\n\n\n\n[Illustration: M. de VOLTAIRE.]\n\n\n     I choose that a story should be founded on probability, and not\n     always resemble a dream. I desire to find nothing in it trivial or\n     extravagant; and I desire above all, that under the appearance of\n     fable there may appear some latent truth, obvious to the discerning\n     eye, though it escape the observation of the vulgar.--_Voltaire._\n\nCOMPLETE IN ONE VOLUME.\n\n\nNEW YORK:\n\nPUBLISHED BY PETER ECKLER,\n\n35 FULTON STREET.\n\n1889.\n\n\n\n[Illustration: Ancient writing implements, Pompeii.]\n\n\nPUBLISHER'S PREFACE\n\n\nVoltaire wrote what the people thought, and consequently his writings\nwere universally read. He wittily ridiculed established abuses, and\nkeenly satirized venerable absurdities. For this he was consigned to the\nBastile, and this distinction served to increase his popularity and\nextend his influence. He was thus enabled to cope successfully with the\npapal hierarchy, and laugh at the murmurs of the Vatican. The struggle\ncommenced in his youth, and continued till his death. It was a struggle\nof light against darkness--of freedom against tyranny; and it ended in\nthe triumph of truth over error and of toleration over bigotry.\n\nEducated by the Jesuits, he early learned their methods, and his great\nability enabled him to circumvent their wiles. The ceremonious\npresentation of his tragedy of _Mahomet_[1] to Pope Benedict XIV., is an\nexample of his daring audacity;--his success with the \"head of the\nchurch\" shows his intellectual superiority--whilst the gracious reply of\n\"his Holiness\" fitly illustrates the pontiff's vanity. From priest to\nbishop, from cardinal to pope, all felt his intellectual power and all\ndreaded his merciless satire.\n\n[Illustration: Voltaire at seventy.]\n\nHe was famous as poet, dramatist, historian, and philosopher. An\nexperienced courtier and polished writer, he gracefully and politely\nconquered his clerical opponents, and with courteous irony overthrew his\nliterary critics. From his demeanor you could not judge of his thoughts\nor intentions, and while listening to his compliments, you instinctively\ndreaded his sarcasms. But venture to approach this grand seigneur, this\nkeen man of the world, this intellectual giant, and plead in favor of\nhuman justice--appeal to his magnanimity and love of toleration--and you\nthen had no cause to question his earnestness, no reason to doubt his\nsincerity. His blood boiled, says Macaulay,[2] at the sight of cruelty\nand injustice, and in an age of religious persecution, judicial torture,\nand arbitrary imprisonment, he made manful war, with every faculty he\npossessed, on what he considered as abuses; and on many signal\noccasions, placed himself gallantly between the powerful and the\noppressed. \"When an innocent man was broken on the wheel at Toulouse,\nwhen a youth, guilty only of an indiscretion, was beheaded at Abb\u00e9ville,\nwhen a brave officer, borne down by public injustice, was dragged, with\na gag in his mouth, to die on the Place de Gr\u00eave, a voice instantly went\nforth from the banks of Lake Leman, which made itself heard from Moscow\nto Cadiz, and which sentenced the unjust judges to the contempt and\ndetestation of all Europe.\"\n\n\"None can read these stories of the horrible religious bigotry of the\nday,\" says Alex. A. Knox, in _The Nineteenth Century_,[3] \"without\nfeeling for Voltaire reverence and respect.\"\n\nThe following extract from the above named Review will explain the\nreligious cruelty to which Macaulay refers:\n\n     \"Jean Calas, a Protestant, kept a small shop in Toulouse. He had a\n     scape-grace of a son, Marc Antoine by name, who hanged himself in\n     his father's shop. The poor father and mother were up stairs at the\n     time, at supper, in company with the second son. The evidence was\n     so clear that a coroner's jury at a public-house would not have\n     turned round upon it. The priests and the priest party got hold of\n     it, and turned it into a religious crime. The Protestant, or\n     Huguenot parents were charged with murdering their son for fear he\n     should turn Catholic. The body was taken to the H\u00f4tel de Ville, and\n     then escorted by priests to the cathedral. The religious\n     orders--White Penitents and others--held solemn ceremonies for the\n     repose of Marc Antoine's soul. The churches resounded with the\n     exhortations of the priests, informing the people what evidence was\n     required to procure the condemnation of the Calas, and directing\n     them to come forward as witnesses. Upon such assumptions as these\n     horrible people could devise, the poor old man was stretched till\n     his limbs were torn out of the sockets. He was then submitted to\n     the _question extraordinaire_. This consisted in pouring water into\n     his mouth from a horn till his body was swollen to twice its size.\n     The man had been drowned a hundred times over, but he was still\n     alive. He was then carried to the scaffold and his limbs were\n     broken with an iron bar, and he was left for two hours to die. He\n     did not then die, and so the executioner strangled him at last; but\n     he died without confessing his crime. The man was innocent; he had\n     no confession to make. The poor creature by his unutterable agony\n     thus saved the lives of his wife and family, all as innocent as\n     himself. Two daughters were thrust into a convent: a son shammed\n     conversion to Catholicism and was released. The servant escaped\n     into a convent. The property of the family was confiscated. The\n     poor mother slipped away unseen. Finally, another son, who had been\n     apprenticed to a watchmaker of Nismes, escaped to Geneva. This is a\n     picture of France in the eighteenth century.\n\n     \"Voltaire took poor young Calas into his family. He tried at once\n     to interest the Cardinal de Bernis, the Duc de Choiseul, and others\n     in this horrible story. He found for the widow a comfortable\n     retreat at Paris; he employed the best lawyers he could find to\n     give practical form to the business; he sent the daughters to join\n     the mother. He paid all the expenses out of his own pocket. He\n     reached the Chancellor; he made his appeal to Europe. He employed a\n     clever young advocate M. Elie de Beaumont, to conduct the cast. The\n     Queen of England, Frederick the Great, Catharine of Russia, were\n     induced by Voltaire to help the Calas.\n\n     \"The case of the Sirvens was well-nigh as bad as that of the Calas.\n     Sirven lived with his wife and three daughters, all Protestants,\n     near Toulouse. The story is so illustrative of the France of the\n     eighteenth century, and of what Voltaire was about, that it\n     deserves a few lines. Sirven's housekeeper, a Roman Catholic, with\n     the assent of the Bishop of Castres, spirited away the youngest\n     daughter, and placed her in a convent of the Black Ladies with a\n     view to her conversion. She returned to her parents in a state of\n     insanity, her body covered with the marks of the whip. She never\n     recovered from the cruelties she had endured at the convent. One\n     day, when her father was absent on his professional duties, she\n     threw herself into a well, at the bottom of which she was found\n     drowned. It was obvious to the authorities that the parents had\n     murdered their child because she wished to become a Roman Catholic.\n     They most wisely did not appear, and were sentenced to be hanged\n     when they could be caught. In their flight the married daughter\n     gave premature birth to a child; and Madame Sirven died in despair.\n     It took Voltaire ten years to get this abominable sentence\n     reversed, and to turn wrong into right.\n\n     \"A Protestant gentleman, M. Espinasse, had been condemned to the\n     galleys for life and his estate confiscated because he had given\n     supper and lodging to a Protestant clergyman. He served\n     twenty-three years; but in 1763 Voltaire obtained his release, and\n     ultimately obtained back for the family a portion of their\n     property.\n\n     \"The Chevalier de la Barre was another victim. Some person or\n     persons unknown had hacked with a knife a wooden crucifix which\n     stood on a bridge at Abb\u00e9ville over the Somme. The same night a\n     crucifix on one of the cemeteries was bespattered with mud. The\n     bishop of the place set to work to stir up excitement, praying for\n     punishment 'on those who had rendered themselves worthy of the\n     severest punishment known to the world's law.' Young De la Barre\n     was arrested. The evidence against him was that he, with certain\n     companions, had been known to pass within thirty yards of a\n     procession bearing the Sacrament without taking off their hats. It\n     was further proved in evidence that he and his friends had sung\n     certain objectionable songs, and that not only some novels had been\n     found in his rooms, but also two small volumes of Voltaire's\n     _Dictionnaire Philosophique_. On this evidence he was sentenced to\n     be subjected to the torture, ordinary and extraordinary; to have\n     his tongue torn out by the roots with pincers of iron, to have his\n     right hand cut off at the door of the principal church at\n     Abb\u00e9ville, to be drawn in a cart to the market-place, and there to\n     be burned to death by a slow fire. The sentence was mitigated so\n     far that he was allowed to be beheaded before he was burned. This\n     sentence was carried out on the 1st of July, 1766. These are\n     samples of what was occurring in France. Was there not enough to\n     rouse indignation to fever-heat?\n\n     \"When one reads such stories, even at this distance of time, he\n     understands the French Revolution and Voltaire.\"\n\nIn all his writings Voltaire claimed to be religious, and was as ready\nto oppose with his sarcasms the agnostic or atheist, as the catholic. In\nspeaking of Tully as a doubter, he makes Pococurante exclaim: \"I once\nhad some liking for his philosophical works; but when I found he\ndoubted of everything, I thought I knew as much as himself, and had no\nneed of a guide to learn ignorance.\"\n\nBut while Voltaire was a Theist--as Lord Brougham says,[4] \"without any\nhesitation or any intermission, a Theist\"--and was a firm believer in\nthe existence of a Creator and ruler of the universe,--he was also an\navowed opponent of Catholicism; and when not engaged in the production\nof works which have added dignity to the literature of France, his life\nwas passed in open warfare with the church of Rome. To this church he\nwas as sincerely opposed as Martin Luther, and although his methods of\nattack and opposition differed entirely from that of the great German\nreformer, who shall say that his efforts have not proved even more\nsuccessful? Macaulay has shown[5] that no Catholic nation has become\nProtestant since the period of the Reformation; while on the other hand,\nno nation once Protestant, has returned to Catholicism. Each party has\nretained its own territory, and the only gain has been in favor of\nreligious freedom. The sincere and earnest appeals of Luther, which\nconvulsed Germany, produced but little or no effect on the versatile\nmind of France. But the brilliant writings of Voltaire were welcomed by\nhis countrymen, and have not been without their influence on French\ncivilization. And although France has not been claimed as a protestant\nnation, yet freethinkers have there attained great power and influence,\nwhilst Germany, once the stronghold of Protestantism, is now the chosen\nand hospitable home of freethought.\n\nVoltaire in his day was an acknowledged leader of public opinion. His\nthoughts engrossed the attention of the world. \"Whole nations,\" says\nQuinet,[6] \"emulously repeat every syllable that falls from his pen:\"\nand the lapse of time has but confirmed the verdict of his\ncotemporaries, that of all the great reformers, his writings are the\nmost useful to mankind.\n\n\"If we judge of men by what they have _done_\" says Lamartine,[7] \"then\nVoltaire is incontestably the greatest writer of modern Europe. No one\nhas caused, through the powerful influence of his genius alone, and the\nperseverance of his will, so great a commotion in the minds of men; his\npen aroused a world, and has shaken a far mightier empire than that of\nCharlemagne, the European empire of a theocracy. His genius was not\n_force_ but _light_. Heaven had destined him not to destroy but to\nilluminate, and wherever he trod light followed him, for reason (which\nis _light_) had destined him to be first her poet, then her apostle, and\nlastly her idol.\"\n\nAt seventeen years of age Voltaire wrote _\u0152dipus_, at eighty-three he\nwrote _Ir\u00e8ne_. During the intervening years he enriched the world of\nthought with seventy volumes of irresistible humor--of brilliant and\ncaustic wit,--in truth, a mine of literary gems undimmed with\nmediocrity's prosy dullness. In fact, it was this quality of humor and\nmirth that made Voltaire's writings so distasteful to his opponents--so\nwelcome to mankind. Other writers, who went far beyond Voltaire, were\nnot considered dangerous, because they were never read. They were\nsincere and learned, but tedious and austere. Their disbelief was\ncondoned by its metaphysical obscurity--their skepticism was redeemed by\nits unmitigated dullness. But with Voltaire the case was very different.\nHis writings were read and appreciated by old or young, grave or gay,\nsage or sophist, prince or peasant. To answer him was impossible--to\nabuse him was thought commendable.\n\n\"Napoleon, during fifteen years,\" says Lamartine,[8] \"paid writers who\ndegrade, vilify, and deny the genius of Voltaire; he hated his name as\n_might_ must ever _hate intellect_; and so long as men yet cherished the\nmemory of Voltaire--so long he felt his position was not secure.\" The\nchurch voluntarily joined in this work of aspersion. To the priests it\nwas no hardship,--it was a welcome task--a labor of love. They hated the\nwritings they could not answer--the genius they could not destroy.\n\n\"The church,\" says Macaulay,[9] \"made no defense, except by acts of\npower. Censures were pronounced; books were seized; insults were offered\nto the remains of infidel writers but no Bossuet, no Pascal, came forth\nto encounter Voltaire. There appeared not a single defense of the\ncatholic doctrine which produced any considerable effect, or which is\neven now remembered.\"\n\n\"His element,\" says Schlosser,[10] \"was the lighter kind of poetry, and\nhis fugitive verses, his sharp wit, his bold opinions, produced effects\nin his time, like flashes of lightning, for they illuminated at the same\ntime the night of Jesuitical superstition, and struck and shivered to\npieces the majestic towers and gothic domes of the middle ages.\n\n\"The so-called fugitive pieces alone, if he had written nothing else,\nwould have been sufficient to secure Voltaire's immortality; for in\nthese he is altogether in his sphere; he has only to think of the people\nwhom he calls exclusively the world, and he can direct every spark of\nhis genius to the production of instantaneous effect, delight his reader\nby his fancy, and surprise him by his wit.\n\n\"The chief aim of each one of Voltaire's small novels is the overthrow\nand refutation of some ruling opinion, and this object is admirably\nattained by the story itself, and by weaving in sarcasms, because this\nrendered all reply and refutation impossible. Seriousness could never\nhave reached the readers of these novels, or would immediately weary\nthem; and every attempt to rival Voltaire in a strain of pleasantry and\nsatire, would have been a folly.\n\n\"In _Zadig_ he shows palpably and obviously how entirely devoid of\nreason and taste the usual moral and edifying considerations upon the\nway of Providence, upon a God who thinks, counsels, acts, and conducts\nthe affairs of the world as a man, must appear to the bold scoffer.\nVoltaire, we would say, confined and limited the doctrine of an\nimmediate guidance of human affairs by the hand of Divine Providence,\nwholly to the church and to the faith of the people; he roofed it out of\nhigher life and out of science by means of his dreadful ridicule. By his\nnarratives he made that obvious, which indeed is easily made palpable\nenough, because it is undeniable, that the theory of a palpable guidance\nof human affairs by an ever-manifesting interposing Providence, may be\njust as easily refuted as proved by history and experience. In _Memnon_\nis shown, in an admirable manner, how the multitude are enamoured of\ntheir prudence, and laugh at nature and its feelings. In the _Ingenu_,\nthe witty man yields himself up wholly to his humor and to accident, and\nbrings forth a rich abundance of wit and flashes of genius with respect\nto the most various subjects.\"\n\n\"Voltaire had the genius of criticism,\" says Lamartine,[11] \"that power\nof raillery which withers all it overthrows. He had made human nature\nlaugh at itself, had felled it low in order to raise it, had laid bare\nbefore it all errors, prejudices, iniquities, and crimes of ignorance;\nhe had urged it to rebellion against consecrated ideas, not by the ideal\nbut by sheer contempt. Destiny gave him eighty years of existence, that\nhe might slowly decompose the decayed age; he had the time to combat\nagainst time, and when he fell he was the conqueror.\n\n\"Such were the elements of the revolution in religious matters. Voltaire\nlaid hold of them, at the precise moment, with that _coup d'\u0153il_ of\nstrong instinct which sees clearer than genius itself. To an age young,\nfickle, and unreflecting, he did not present reason under the form of an\naustere philosophy, but beneath the guise of a facile freedom of ideas,\nand a scoffing irony. He would not have succeeded in making his age\nthink, he did succeed in making it smile. He never attacked it in front,\nnor with his face uncovered, in order that he might not set the laws in\narray against him; and to avoid the fate of Servetus, he, the modern\n\u00c6sop, attacked under imaginary names the tyranny which he wished, to\ndestroy. He concealed his hate in history, the drama, light poetry,\nromance, and even in jests. His genius was a perpetual allusion,\ncomprehending all his age, but impossible to be seized on by his\nenemies. He struck, but his hand was concealed. Yet the struggle of a\nman against a priesthood, an individual against an institution, a life\nagainst eighteen centuries, was by no means destitute of courage.\n\n\"There is an incalculable power of conviction and devotion of idea, in\nthe daring of one against all. To brave at once, with no other power\nthan individual reason, with no other support than conscience, human\nconsideration, that cowardice of the mind, masked under respect for\nerror; to dare the hatred of earth and the anathema of heaven, is the\nheroism of the writer. Voltaire was not a martyr in his body, but he\nconsented to be one in his name, and devoted it during his life and\nafter his death. He condemned his own ashes to be thrown to the winds,\nand not to have either an asylum or a tomb. He resigned himself even to\nlengthened exile in exchange for the liberty of a free combat. He\nisolated himself voluntarily from men, in order that their too close\ncontact might not interfere with his thoughts.\n\n\"At eighty years of age, feeble, and feeling his death nearly\napproaching, he several times made his preparations hastily, in order to\ngo and struggle still, and die at a distance from the roof of his old\nage. The unwearied activity of his mind was never checked for a moment.\nHe carried his gaiety even to genius, and under that pleasantry of his\nwhole life we may perceive a grave power of perseverance and conviction.\nSuch was the character of this great man. The enlightened serenity of\nhis mind concealed the depth of its workings: under the joke and laugh\nhis constancy of purpose was hardly sufficiently recognized. He suffered\nall with a laugh, and was willing to endure all, even in absence from\nhis native land, in his lost friendships, in his refused fame, in his\nblighted name, in his memory accursed. He took all--bore all--for the\nsake of the triumph of the independence of human reason.\"\n\nThe manners and customs of the eighteenth century differ widely from\nthose of the nineteenth. Certain words and phrases that were then in\ncommon use are now wisely suppressed. Lecky says very truly,[12] that \"a\nRoman of the age of Pliny, an Englishman of the age of Henry VIII., and\nan Englishman of our own day, would all agree in regarding humanity as a\nvirtue, and its opposite as a vice; but their judgments of the acts\nwhich are compatible with a humane disposition would be widely\ndifferent.\"\n\nThe enemies of freethought have taken advantage of this fact--this\nchange in modes of expression--this refinement in literature--to defame\nthe memory of Voltaire. They denounce _La Pucelle_ or _The Maid of\nOrleans_ for language and expressions, formerly popular in court circles\nand sanctioned by the nobility and ladies of fashion, but which,\nhappily, have now become obsolete. They judge the license of the\neighteenth century--the license and profligacy which accompany\necclesiasticism and monasticism--by nineteenth century standards. If the\nsame rule were applied to other writers, none would have cause to\ncomplain. But, unfortunately, an exception has been unjustly made in\nfavor of the language employed by historians like Moses and Solomon, by\npoets like Shakspeare and Pope, by theologians like Rabelais and Swift,\nby novelists like Fielding and Smollett. In short, immodest language\ncannot be redeemed by wit, by learning, or by pretended revelation, and\nshould always and invariably be suppressed; but writers should be judged\nby the manners and customs of their age, and not by modern standards.\nThere are many passages in the old classic authors that were formerly\nconsidered in good taste, which cannot now be commended. Still, the gold\noutweighs the dross, and we should remember the laxity and\nlicentiousness of the times in which those books were written.\n\nThe romances and tales in this publication have been selected for their\ngraceful and sprightly wit, as well as genial humor and keen satire; and\nfurther, because they are free from even a suspicion of impropriety.\nThey each teach a lesson of wisdom and morality--they teach courage,\nfortitude and resignation, and, what is perhaps of even greater\nimportance, they also tend to free the mind from the baneful errors of\npriestcraft and superstition.\n\n\"The most interesting adventures are related to no sort of purpose,\"\nsays Voltaire in one of his essays, \"if they do not convey, at the same\ntime, a description of manners. And even this is but a frivolous\namusement, if that description does not contribute to inspire us with\nsentiments of virtue. I dare assert that, from the _Henriade_ to _Zara_\nand down to the Chinese tragedy of _The Orphan of Tchao_ such was always\nthe aim I proposed, and the principle that conducted me. In the history\nof the age of Louis the fourteenth, I have celebrated my king and\ncountry, without flattering either. In these endeavors have I spent\nabove forty years. But here is the advice of a Chinese philosopher,\nwhose writings are translated into Spanish, by the famous _Navarette_:\n\n\"'If you write a book, show it only to your friends. Dread the public\nand your brother authors. They will embitter your expressions,\nmisrepresent your meaning, and impute to you, what you never thought of.\nCalumny, which has an hundred mouths, will open them against you; and\ntruth, which is silent, will remain with you.'\"\n\nIt has been said of Voltaire that he was \"not only just, but generous in\nhis dealings with others. With open purse and open heart, helpful to all\nwho approached him. Collini, his secretary, said he was a miser _only of\nhis time_, which was always usefully employed. But we are also told that\nthere was one person to whom he could not even deny his time--it was\nMademoiselle de Varicourt--_Belle-et-Bonne_--whom he had adopted, and\nwho was afterward married to the Marquis de Villette. \"She could never\ndisturb him,\" says A.A. Knox, \"not even when he was giving the last\ntouches to _Ir\u00e8ne_. If he were in a passion with anybody else, and she\nappeared in the room, he was at once gentle and calm. There is something\nvery affecting in the old man's love and tenderness for this young\ngirl.\"\n\nAfter the success of the French Revolution, to which the writings of\nVoltaire had so greatly contributed, when the National Assembly ordered\nthe removal of his remains to the Pantheon, to repose between the ashes\nof Descartes and Mirabeau--when France honored herself in honoring the\ngreat philosopher--it was _Belle-et-Bonne_--in the full splendor of her\nmajestic beauty--her heart overflowing with tenderness and\ngratitude--her eyes dimmed with pathetic tears--who placed with loving\nhands on the bier of her noble benefactor the wreath of filial\naffection--the grandest tribute that humanity can bestow.\n\n                                                 PETER ECKLER.\n\n     _New York, Jan. 28, 1885._\n\n\n[1] This work, says Prof. F.C. Schlosser in his _History of the\nEighteenth Century_, (vol. ii, p. 122.) \"was sent to the pope, and very\nfavorably received by him; although it could not possibly escape the\nnotice of the pope, that the piece was indebted for its chief effect\nupon the public, to the vehement expressions against religious\nfanaticism which it contained. The pope felt himself flattered by the\ntransmission of the _Mahomet_, and notified his approbation, of which\nVoltaire cunningly enough availed himself, for the advantage of his new\nprinciples.\"\n\n[2] _Critical and Historical Essays_, page 553.\n\n[3] Vol. iv, No. 39.\n\n[4] _Men of Letters of the time of George III._\n\n[5] _Critical & Historical Essays_, p. 553.\n\n[6] _Lectures on the Romish Church._\n\n[7] _History of the Girondists_, vol. i, p. 152.\n\n[8] _History of the Girondists_, vol. i, p. 152.\n\n[9] _Critical and Historical Essays_, p. 553.\n\n[10] _History of the Eighteenth Century_, vol. i, pp. 263-269.\n\n[11] _History of the Girondists_, vol. i, pp. 15, 154, 155, 156.\n\n[12] _History of European Morals_, vol. i, page iii.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe illustrations in this work and a few notes have been added by the\npublisher. The head of Voltaire in the frontispiece is from a bust by\nHoudon, and is copied from an engraving published by Messrs. J. & H.L.\nHunt, London, 1824. It represents the gifted author as he appeared in\nhis eighty-third year. The full-length portrait of Voltaire on page iii,\nshows him in his seventieth year, and the remaining portrait, on page\nxii, gives his likeness in early manhood; it is from a French edition of\nhis works published in 1746.\n\n\n[Illustration: Voltaire at thirty.]\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n\nTHE WHITE BULL: A SATIRICAL ROMANCE.\n\nCHAPTER I. How the Princess Amasidia meets a bull.\nCHAPTER II. How the wise Mambres, formerly magician\n  of Pharoah, knew again the old woman, and was known\n  by her.\nCHAPTER III. How the beautiful Amasidia had a secret\n   conversation with a beautiful serpent.\nCHAPTER IV. How they wanted to sacrifice the bull and\n  exorcise the Princess.\nCHAPTER V. How the wise Mambres conducted himself wisely.\nCHAPTER VI. How Mambres met three prophets, and gave\n  them a good dinner.\nCHAPTER VII. How king Amasis wanted to give the White\n  Bull to be devoured by the fish of Jonah, and did not\n  do it.\nCHAPTER VIII. How the serpent told stories to the\n  Princess to comfort her.\nCHAPTER IX. How the serpent did not comfort the Princess.\nCHAPTER X. How they wanted to behead the Princess, and\n  did not do it.\nCHAPTER XI. Apotheosis of the White Bull. Triumph of the\n  wise Mambres. The seven years proclaimed by Daniel are\n  accomplished. Nebuchadnezzar resumes the human form, marries\n  the beautiful Amasidia, and ascends the throne of Babylon.\n\n\nZADIG; OR FATE.\n\nApprobation.\nEpistle dedicatory to the Sultana Sheraa.\n\n  I. The Blind of one Eye.\n  II. The Nose.\n  III. The Dog and the Horse.\n  IV. The Envious Man.\n  V. The Generous.\n  VI. The Minister.\n  VII. The Disputes and the Audiences.\n  VIII. Jealousy.\n  IX. The Woman Beater.\n  X. Slavery.\n  XI. The Funeral Pile.\n  XII. The Supper.\n  XIII. The Rendezvous.\n  XIV. The Robber.\n  XV. The Fisherman.\n  XVI. The Basilisk.\n  XVII. The Combats.\n  XVIII. The Hermit.\n  XIX. The Enigmas.\n\nTHE SAGE AND THE ATHEIST.\n\nIntroduction\n\nCHAPTER I. Adventures of Johnny, a young Englishman,\n  written by Donna Las Nalgas\nCHAPTER II. Continuation of the adventures of John,\n  the young Englishman; also those of his worthy father,\n  D.D., M.P., and F.R.S.\nCHAPTER III. Summary of the controversy of the \"Buts,\"\n  between Mr. Freind and Don Inigo-y-Medroso, y-Comodios,\n  y-Papalamiendos, Bachelor of Salamanca\nCHAPTER IV. John returns to London and is led into\n  bad company\nCHAPTER V. They want to get John married\nCHAPTER VI. A terrible adventure\nCHAPTER VII. What happened in America\nCHAPTER VIII. Dialogue between Freind and Birton\n  on Atheism\nCHAPTER IX. On Atheism\nCHAPTER X. On Atheism\nCHAPTER XI. Return to England--John's marriage\n\n\nTHE PRINCESS OF BABYLON.\n\nI. Royal contest for the hand of Formosanta\nII. The King of Babylon convenes his Council and consults\n  the Oracle\nIII. Royal festival given in honor of the kingly visitors.\n  The bird converses eloquently with Formosanta\nIV. The beautiful bird is killed by the King of Egypt.\n  Formosanta begins a journey. Aldea elopes with the King\n  of Scythia\nV. Formosanta visits China and Scythia in search of\n  Amazan\nVI. The Princess continues her journey\nVII. Amazan visits Albion\nVIII. Amazan leaves Albion to visit the land of Saturn\nIX. Amazan visits Rome\nX. An unfortunate adventure in Gaul\nXI. Amazan and Formosanta become reconciled\n\n\nTHE MAN OF FORTY CROWNS.\n\nI. National Poverty\nII. Disaster of the Man of Forty Crowns\nIII. Conversation with a Geometrician\nIV. An adventure with a Carmelite\nV. Audience of the Comptroller General\nVI. The Man of Forty Crowns marries, becomes a father,\n  and discants upon the monks\nVII. On taxes paid to a foreign power\nVIII. On Proportions\nIX. A great quarrel\nX. A rascal repulsed\nXI. The good sense of Mr. Andrew\nXII. The good supper at Mr. Andrew's\n\nTHE HURON; OR, PUPIL OF NATURE.\n\nI. The Huron arrives in France\nII. The Huron, called the Ingenu, acknowledged by\n  his relatives\nIII. The Huron converted\nIV. The Huron baptized\nV. The Huron in love\nVI. The Huron flies to his mistress, and becomes\n  quite furious\nVII. The Huron repulses the English\nXIII. The Huron goes to Court. Sups upon the road with\n  some Huguenots\nIX. The arrival of the Huron at Versailles. His reception\n  at Court\nX. The Huron is shut up in the Bastile with a Jansenist\nXI. How the Huron discloses his genius\nXII. The Huron's sentiments upon theatrical pieces\nXIII. The beautiful Miss St. Yves goes to Versailles\nXIV. Rapid progress of the Huron's intellect\nXV. The beautiful Miss St. Yves visits M. de St. Pouange\nXVI. Miss St. Yves consults a Jesuit\nXVII. The Jesuit triumphs\nXVIII. Miss St. Yves delivers her lover and a Jansenist\nXIX. The Huron, the beautiful Miss St. Yves, and their\n  relatives, are convened\nXX. The death of the beautiful Miss St. Yves and its\n  consequences\n\n\nMICROMEGAS.\n\nI. A voyage to the planet Saturn, by a native of Sirius\nII. The conversation between Micromegas and the inhabitant\n  of Saturn\nIII. The voyage of these inhabitants of other worlds\nIV. What befell them upon this our globe\nV. The travelers capture a vessel\nVI. What happened in their intercourse with men\n\n\nTHE WORLD AS IT GOES\n\nTHE BLACK AND THE WHITE\n\nMEMNON THE PHILOSOPHER\n\nANDR\u00c9 DES TOUCHES AT SIAM\n\nBABABEC\n\n\nTHE STUDY OF NATURE.\n\nI. Introduction\nII. The study of Nature\nIII. Good advice\nIV. Dialogue upon the soul and other topics\n\n  A CONVERSATION WITH A CHINESE\n  PLATO'S DREAM\n  PLEASURE IN HAVING NO PLEASURE\n  AN ADVENTURE IN INDIA\n  JEANNOT AND COLIN\n  THE TRAVELS OF SCARMENTADO\n  THE GOOD BRAMIN\n  THE TWO COMFORTERS\n  ANCIENT FAITH AND FABLE\n\n\n\n\nILLUSTRATIONS.\n\n\n  Voltaire, by Houdon--_Frontispiece._\n  Voltaire, at seventy\n  Ancient Writing implements, from Pompeii\n  Voltaire in early manhood\n  The White Bull\n  Apis\n  Silence\n  Amasidia\n  The Witch of Endor\n  The Serpent\n  Nebuchadnezzar\n  Lot and his Family\n  Daniel, Ezekiel & Jeremiah\n  Egyptian Priests\n  Winged Bull\n  The Scape Goat\n  Caravan approaching Babylon\n  The Cup\n  Egyptian Archer\n  The Funeral Pyre\n  Oannes--The Fish God\n  Almona\n  Zadig and the Brigand\n  The Basilisk\n  Zadig and the Queen\n  Cador concealing Astarte\n  The Combats\n  The Hermit\n  Freind and his wayward Son\n  Don Jeronimo Bueno Caracurador\n  Condemned by the Inquisition\n  Epictetus the Slave\n  Grand Entrance to Palace\n  The Ph\u0153nix\n  The King of Scythia rescued from the Lion\n  The Shrine at Bassora\n  Consulting the Oracle\n  Religious Wars in Albion\n  The Old Man of the Seven Mountains\n  Kissing an Old Man's Toe\n  Gaiety and Frivolity\n  Preservers of Ancient Customs\n  Dancing a _Tambourin_\n  Clio, the Muse of History\n  The Tax Collector\n  Barefooted Carmelites\n  Entering the Convent\n  The Rack\n  The Priory Entrance\n  The Huron Identified\n  Baptism of Hercules\n  The Separation\n  The Confessional\n  Father Tout-\u00e0-tous\n  The Meeting\n  Death of Miss St. Yves\n  A Medieval Exploring Vessel\n  Micromegas captures a Ship\n  The Blank Book\n  The Spiritual Rulers of Persepolis\n  Burying the Dead in Churches\n  Good and Evil Genii\n  Young Memnon\n  Memnon and the Distressed Ninevite\n  Des Touches and Croutef\n  Boodh supported by Serpents\n  The Fakir\n  The Sphinx\n  The Study of Nature\n  The Poor Clergyman\n  Kwan-yin, Burmese, Buddha, and Chinese Ivory Figure\n  The Birth of Minerva and Eve--Androgynous Deities\n  Bacchus and Ariadne\n  Envy\n  Plato\n  Visiting Seignor Pococurante\n  The \"Yawning Oysters\"\n  The School at Issoire\n  Jeannot and Colin\n  Religious Emblems\n  Brama, Vishna, and Siva\n  The happy Bigot\n  The two Comforters\n  The Winged Dragon\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: The White Bull. A Satyrical Romance.--\"Daniel changed a\nmonarch into this bull, and I have changed this bull into a god!\"]\n\n     TAURUS.\n\n\n     The object and significance of ancient Tauric and Phallic worship\n     have been clearly set forth by Dupuis, Payne Knight, and other\n     learned authors, and we have, even at the present day, a survival\n     of the ancient faith, in the Mayday festivals of India and Britain,\n     which were originally instituted to celebrate the entrance of the\n     sun into the zodiacal sign Taurus, at the vernal equinox, when the\n     god Osiris was worshiped in Egypt under the form of a bull called\n     Apis.\n\n     \"The general devotion of the ancients to the worship of the BULL,\"\n     says the Rev. Mr. Maurice in his learned work on the _Antiquities\n     of India_, \"I have had frequent occasion to remark, and more\n     particularly in the Indian history, by their devotion to it at that\n     period 'when the Bull with his horns opened the Vernal year.' I\n     observed that all nations seem anciently to have vied with each\n     other in celebrating that blissful epoch; and that the moment the\n     sun entered the sign Taurus, were displayed the signals of triumph\n     and the incentives to passion; that memorials of the universal\n     festivity indulged at that season, are to be found in the records\n     and customs of people otherwise the most opposite in manners and\n     most remote in situation;... that the Apis, or Sacred Bull of\n     Egypt, was only the symbol of the sun in the vigor of vernal youth;\n     and that the Bull of Japan, breaking with his horn the mundane egg,\n     was evidently connected with the same bovine species of\n     superstition, founded on the mixture of astronomy and mythology.\"\n\n     \"In many of the most ancient temples or India,\" says Godfrey\n     Higgins in the _Anacalypsis_, \"the Bull, as an object of adoration\n     makes a most conspicuous figure. A gigantic image of one protrudes\n     from the front of the temple of _the Great Creator_, called in the\n     language of the country, Jaggernaut, in Orissa. This is the Bull of\n     the Zodiac,--the emblem of the sun when the equinox took place in\n     the first degree of the sign of the Zodiac, Taurus. In consequence\n     of the precession of the equinoxes, the sun at the vernal equinox\n     left Taurus, and took place in Aries, which it has left also for a\n     great number of years, and it now takes place in Aquarius. Thus it\n     keeps receding about one degree in seventy-two years, and about a\n     whole _sign_ in 2,160 years. M. Dupuis has demonstrated that the\n     labors of Hercules are nothing but a history of the passage of the\n     sun through the signs of the zodiac; and that Hercules is the sun\n     in Aries or the Ram, Bacchus the sun in Taurus or the Bull. The\n     adoration of the Bull of the zodiac is to be met with everywhere\n     throughout the world, in the most opposite climes. The examples of\n     it are innumerable and incontrovertable; they admit of no dispute.\n\n     \"It appears from the book or history of the Exod, that it was on\n     the leaving of Egypt that Moses changed the object of adoration\n     from Taurus to Aries. It appears that the change took place on the\n     mountain of _Sin_, or Nisi, or Bacchus, which was evidently its old\n     name before Moses arrived there. The Israelites were punished for\n     adhering to the old worship, that of the Calf, in opposition to the\n     paschal Lamb, which Moses had substituted--'the Lamb which taketh\n     away the sins of the world,'--in place of the Bull or Calf which\n     took away the sins of the world.\n\n     \"The planets were in later times all called by names appropriated\n     to the days of the week, which were dedicated by astrologers to the\n     gods who were typified by the Bull: Monday to the horned _Isis_;\n     Tuesday to Mercury, the same as Hermes and Osiris; Wednesday to\n     Woden, Fo, Buddha, and Surya; Thursday or Thor-day, or _Tur_, or\n     Taurus, or Bull-day, to Jove or Jupiter, who, as a Bull, stole\n     Europa; Friday was dedicated to Venus, Ashteroth or beeve-horned\n     Astarte; Saturday to Saturn, identified by Mr. Faber with Moloch\n     and the _Centaur Cronus_ or Taschter; Sunday to the Sun, everywhere\n     typified by Taurus. All these, I think, must have taken their names\n     after the entrance of the Sun into Taurus; and before this date all\n     history and even mythology fails us.\n\n     \"In ancient collections we often meet with a person in the prime of\n     life killing a young bull. He is generally accompanied with a\n     number of astrological emblems. This Bull was the mediatorial\n     Mithra, slain to make atonement for, and to take away the sins of\n     the world. This was the God Bull, to whom the prayers were\n     addressed which we find in Bryant and Faber, and in which he is\n     expressly called the Mediator. This is the Bull of Persia, which\n     Sir. William Jones and Mr. Faber identify with Buddha or Mahabad.\n     The sacrifice of the Bull, which taketh away the sins of the world,\n     was succeeded by the sacrifice of the Agni or of Fire, by our\n     Indians in, comparatively speaking, modern times; it was closely\n     connected with the two principles spoken of above. While the sun\n     was in Taurus, the Bull was slain as the vicarious sacrifice; when\n     it got into Aries, the Ram or Lamb was substituted.\n\n     \"M. Dupuis observes, that the lamb was a symbol or mark of\n     initiation into the Christian mysteries, a sort of proof of\n     admission into the societies of the initiated of the lamb, like the\n     private sign of the free-masons. It follows, then, that the\n     mysteries of Christ are the mysteries of the Lamb, and that the\n     mysteries of the Lamb are mysteries of the same nature as those of\n     the Mithraitic Bull to which they succeeded by the effect of the\n     precession of the equinoxes, which substituted the slain _lamb_ for\n     the slain _bull_.\"--E.\n\n\n[Illustration: Apis.][1]\n\n\n\n\nTHE WHITE BULL.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\nHOW THE PRINCESS AMASIDIA MEETS A BULL.\n\n\nThe princess Amasidia, daughter of Amasis, King of Tanis in Egypt, took\na walk upon the highway of Peluaium with the ladies of her train. She\nwas sunk in deep melancholy. Tears gushed from her beautiful eyes. The\ncause of her grief was known, as well as the fears she entertained lest\nthat grief should displease the king, her father. The old man, Mambres,\nancient magician and eunuch of the Pharoahs, was beside her, and seldom\nleft her. He was present at her birth. He had educated her, and taught\nher all that a fair princess was allowed to know of the sciences of\nEgypt. The mind of Amasidia equaled her beauty. Her sensibility and\ntenderness rivaled the charms of her person; and it was this sensibility\nwhich cost her so many tears.\n\nThe princess was twenty-four years old, the magician, Mambres, about\nthirteen hundred. It was he, as every one knows, who had that famous\ndispute with Moses, in which the victory was so long doubtful between\nthese two profound philosophers. If Mambres yielded, it was owing to\nthe visible protection of the celestial powers, who favored his rival.\nIt required gods to overcome Mambres!\n\nAmasis made him superintendent of his daughter's household, and he\nacquitted himself in this office with his usual prudence. His compassion\nwas excited by the sighs of the beautiful Amasidia.\n\n\"O, my lover!\" said she to herself, \"my young, my dear lover! O,\ngreatest of conquerors, most accomplished, most beautiful of men! Almost\nseven years hast thou disappeared from the world. What God hath snatched\nthee from thy tender Amasidia? Thou art not dead. The wise Egyptian\nprophets confess this. But thou art dead to me. I am alone in the world.\nTo me it is a desert. By what extraordinary prodigy hast thou abandoned\nthy throne and thy mistress?--thy throne, which was the first in the\nworld--however, that is a matter of small consequence; but to abandon\nme, who adores thee! O, my dear Ne--\"\n\nShe was going on.\n\n\"Tremble to pronounce that fatal name,\" said Mambres, the ancient eunuch\nand magician of the Pharoahs. \"You would perhaps be discovered by some\nof the ladies of your court. They are all very much devoted to you, and\nall fair ladies certainly make it a merit to serve the noble passions of\nfair princesses. But there may be one among them indiscreet, and even\ntreacherous. You know that your father, although he loves you, has sworn\nto put you to death, should you pronounce the terrible name always ready\nto escape your lips. This law is severe; but you have not been educated\nin Egyptian wisdom to be ignorant of the government of the tongue.\nRemember that Hippocrates, one of our greatest gods, has always his\nfinger upon his mouth.\"\n\n[Illustration: Silence.]\n\nThe beautiful Amasidia wept, and was silent.\n\nAs she pensively advanced toward the banks of the Nile she perceived at\na distance, under a thicket watered by the river, an old woman in a\ntattered gray garment, seated on a hillock. This old woman had beside\nher a she-ass, a dog, and a he-goat. Opposite to her was a serpent,\nwhich was not like the common serpents; for its eyes were mild, its\nphysiognomy noble and engaging, while its skin shone with the liveliest\nand brightest colors. A huge fish, half immersed in the river, was not\nthe least astonishing figure in the group; and on a neighboring tree\nwere perched a raven and a pigeon. All these creatures seemed to carry\non a very animated conversation.\n\n[Illustration: Amasidia.--\"O, my lover! my young, my dear lover! O,\ngreatest of conquerors, most accomplished, most beautiful of men!\"]\n\n\"Alas!\" said the princess in a low tone, \"these animals undoubtedly\nspeak of their loves, and it is not so much as allowed me to mention the\nname of mine.\"\n\nThe old woman held in her hand a slender steel chain a hundred fathoms\nlong, to which was fastened a bull who fed in the meadow. This bull was\nwhite, perfectly well-made, plump, and at the same time agile, which is\na thing seldom to be found. He was indeed the most beautiful specimen\nthat was ever seen of his kind. Neither the bull of Pasiph\u00e6, nor that in\nwhose shape Jupiter appeared when he carried off Europa, could be\ncompared to this noble animal. The charming young heifer into which Isis\nwas changed, would have scarce been worthy of his company.\n\nAs soon as the bull saw the princess he ran toward her with the\nswiftness of a young Arabian horse, who pricks up his ears and flies\nover the plains and rivers of the ancient Saana to approach the lovely\nconsort whose image reigns in his heart. The old woman used her utmost\nefforts to restrain the bull. The serpent wanted to terrify him by its\nhissing. The dog followed him and bit his beautiful limbs. The she-ass\ncrossed his way and kicked him to make him return. The great fish\nremounted the Nile and, darting himself out of the water, threatened to\ndevour him. The he-goat remained immovable, apparently struck with fear.\nThe raven fluttered round his head as if it wanted to tear out his eyes.\nThe pigeon alone accompanied him from curiosity, and applauded him by a\nsweet murmur.\n\nSo extraordinary a sight threw Mambres into serious reflections. In the\nmeanwhile, the white bull, dragging after him his chain and the old\nwoman, had already reached the princess, who was struck with\nastonishment and fear. He threw himself at her feet. He kissed them. He\nshed tears. He looked upon her with eyes in which there was a strange\nmixture of grief and joy. He dared not to low, lest he should terrify\nthe beautiful Amasidia. He could not speak. A weak use of the voice,\ngranted by Heaven to certain animals, was denied him; but all his\nactions were eloquent. The princess was delighted by him. She perceived\nthat a trifling amusement could suspend for some moments even the most\npoignant grief.\n\n\"Here,\" said she, \"is a most amiable animal. I could wish much to have\nhim in my stable.\"\n\nAt these words he bull bent himself on his knees and kissed the ground.\n\n\"He understands me,\" cried the princess. \"He shows me that he wants to\nbe mine. Ah, heavenly magician! ah, divine eunuch! Give me this\nconsolation. Purchase this beautiful bovine. Settle the price with the\nold woman, to whom he no doubt belongs. This animal must be mine. Do not\nrefuse me this innocent comfort.\"\n\nAll the ladies joined their requests to the entreaties of the princess.\nMambres yielded to them, and immediately went to speak to the old woman.\n\n\n[1] According to Eschenburg, Apis is the name of the ox in which Osiris\nwas supposed to reside, rather than a distinct deity. The ox thus\nhonored was known by certain marks; his body was all black, excepting a\nsquare spot of white on his forehead, and a white crescent or sort of\nhalf-moon on his right side; on his back was the figure of an eagle;\nunder his tongue a sort of knot resembling a beetle (_cantharus_), and\ntwo sorts of hair upon his tail. This ox was permitted to live\ntwenty-five years. His body was then embalmed, placed in a chest, and\nburied with many solemnities. A season of mourning then followed, until\na new Apis, or ox properly marked, was discovered.--E.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\nHOW THE WISE MAMBRES, FORMERLY MAGICIAN OF PHAROAH, KNEW AGAIN THE OLD\nWOMAN, AND WAS KNOWN BY HER.\n\n\n\"Madam,\" said Mambres to her, \"you know that ladies, and particularly\nprincesses, have need of amusement. The daughter of the king is\ndistractedly fond of your bull. I beg that you will sell him to us. You\nshall be paid in ready money.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" answered the old woman, \"this precious animal does not belong to\nme. I am charged, together with all the beasts which you see, to keep\nhim with care, to watch all his motions, and to give an exact account of\nthem. God forbid that I should ever have any inclination to sell this\ninvaluable animal.\"\n\n[Illustration: The remarkable witch of Endor.--\"What, is it indeed you,\"\ncried Mambres, \"who are so famous upon the banks of your little Jordan,\nand the first person in the world for raising apparitions?\"]\n\nMambres, upon this discourse, began to have a confused remembrance of\nsomething which he could not yet properly distinguish. He eyed the old\nwoman in the gray cloak with greater attention.\n\n\"Respectable lady,\" said he to her, \"I either mistake, or I have seen\nyou formerly.\"\n\n\"I make no mistake, sir,\" replied the old woman. \"I have seen you seven\nhundred years ago, in a journey which I made from Syria into Egypt some\nmonths after the destruction of Troy, when Hiram the second reigned at\nTyre, and Nephel Keres in ancient Egypt.\"\n\n\"Ah! madam,\" cried the old man, \"you are the remarkable witch of Endor.\"\n\n\"And you, sir,\" said the sorceress, embracing him, \"are the great\nMambres of Egypt.\"\n\n\"O, unforeseen meeting! memorable day! eternal decrees!\" said Mambres.\n\"It certainly is not without permission of the universal providence that\nwe meet again in this meadow upon the banks of the Nile near the noble\ncity of Tanis. What, is it indeed you,\" continued Mambres, \"who are so\nfamous upon the banks of your little Jordan, and the first person in the\nworld for raising apparitions?\"\n\n\"What, is it you, sir,\" replied Miss Endor, \"who are so famous for\nchanging rods into serpents, the day into darkness, and rivers into\nblood?\"\n\n\"Yes, madam, but my great age has in part deprived me of my knowledge\nand power. I am ignorant from whence you have this beautiful bull, and\nwho these animals are that, together with you, watch round him.\"\n\nThe old woman, recollecting herself, raised her eyes to heaven, and then\nreplied.\n\n\"My dear Mambres. We are of the same profession, but it is expressly\nforbidden me to tell you who this bull is. I can satisfy you with regard\nto the other animals. You will easily know them by the marks which\ncharacterize them. The serpent is that which persuaded Eve to eat an\napple, and to make her husband partake of it. The ass, that which spoke\nto your contemporary, Balaam, in a remarkable discourse. The fish, which\nalways carries its head above water, is that which swallowed Jonah a few\nyears ago. The dog is he who followed Raphael and the young Tobit in\ntheir journey to Ragusa in Media, in the time of the great Salamanzar.\nThis goat is he who expiates all the sins of your nation. The raven and\nthe pigeon, those which were in the ark of Noah. Great event! universal\ncatastrophe! of which almost all the world is still ignorant. You are\nnow informed. But of the bull you can know nothing.\"\n\nMambres, having listened with respect, said:\n\n\"The Eternal, O illustrious witch! reveals and conceals what he thinks\nproper. All these animals who, together with you, are entrusted with the\ncustody of the white bull, are only known to your generous and agreeable\nnation, which is itself unknown to almost all the world. The miracles\nwhich you and yours, I and mine, have performed, shall one day be a\ngreat subject of doubt and scandal to inquisitive philosophers. But\nhappily these miracles shall find belief with the devout sages, who\nshall prove submissive to the enlightened in one corner of the world;\nand this is all that is necessary.\"\n\nAs he spoke these words, the princess pulled him by the sleeve, and said\nto him,--\n\n\"Mambres, will you not buy my bull?\"\n\nThe magician, plunged into a deep reverie, made no reply, and Amasidia\npoured forth her tears.\n\nShe then addressed herself to the old woman.\n\n\"My good woman,\" said she, \"I conjure you, by all you hold most dear in\nthe world, by your father, by your mother, by your nurse, who are\ncertainly still alive, to sell me not only your bull, but likewise your\npigeon, which seems very much attached to him.\n\n\"As for the other animals, I do not want them; but I shall catch the\nvapors if you do not sell me this charming bull, who will be all the\nhappiness of my life.\"\n\nThe old woman respectfully kissed the fringe of her gauze robe, and\nreplied,--\n\n\"Princess, my bull is not to be sold. Your illustrious magician is\nacquainted with this. All that I can do for your service is, to permit\nhim to feed every day near your palace. You may caress him, give him\nbiscuits, and make him dance about at your pleasure; but he must always\nbe under the eyes of all these animals who accompany me, and who are\ncharged with the keeping of him. If he does not endeavor to escape from\nthem, they will prove peaceable; but if he attempt once more to break\nhis chain, as he did upon seeing you, woe be unto him. I would not then\nanswer for his life. This large fish, which you see, will certainly\nswallow him, and keep him longer than _three_ days in his belly; or this\nserpent, who appears to you so mild, will give him a mortal sting.\"\n\nThe white bull, who understood perfectly the old woman's conversation,\nbut was unable to speak, humbly accepted all the proposals. He laid\nhimself down at her feet; he lowed softly, and, looking tenderly at\nAmasidia, seemed to say to her,\n\n\"Come and see me sometimes upon the lawn.\"\n\nThe serpent now took up the conversation:\n\n\"Princess,\" said he, \"I advise you to act implicitly, as mademoiselle of\nEndor has told you.\"\n\nThe she-ass likewise put in her word, and was of the opinion of the\nserpent.\n\nAmasidia was afflicted that this serpent and this ass should speak so\nwell; while a beautiful bull, who had such noble and tender sentiments,\nwas unable to express them.\n\n\"Alas,\" said she, in a low voice, \"nothing is more common at court. One\nsees there every day fine lords who cannot converse, and contemptible\nwretches who speak with assurance.\"\n\n\"This serpent,\" said Mambres, \"is not a contemptible wretch. He is\nperhaps the personage of the greatest importance.\"\n\nThe day now declined, and the princess was obliged to return home, after\nhaving promised to come back next day at the same hour. Her ladies of\nthe palace were astonished, and understood nothing of what they had seen\nor heard. Mambres made reflections. The princess recollecting that the\nserpent called the old woman Miss, concluded at random that she was\nstill unmarried, and felt some affliction that such was also her own\ncondition. Respectable affliction! which she concealed, however, with as\nmuch care as the name of her lover.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\nHOW THE BEAUTIFUL AMASIDIA HAD A SECRET CONVERSATION WITH A BEAUTIFUL\nSERPENT.\n\n\nThe beautiful princess recommended secrecy to her ladies with regard to\nwhat they had seen. They all promised it, and kept their promise for a\nwhole day.\n\nWe may believe that Amasidia slept little that night. An inexplicable\ncharm continually recalled the idea of her beautiful bull. As soon,\ntherefore, as she was at freedom with her wise Mambres, she said to him:\n\n\"O, sage! this animal turns my head.\"\n\n\"He employs mine very much,\" said Mambres. \"I see plainly that this\nbovine is very much superior to those of his species. I see that there\nis a great mystery, and I suspect a fatal event. Your father Amasis is\nsuspicious and violent; and this affair requires that you conduct\nyourself with the greatest precaution.\"\n\n\"Ah!\" said the princess, \"I have too much curiosity to be prudent. It is\nthe only sentiment which can unite in my heart with that which preys\nupon me on account of the lover I have lost. Can I not know who this\nwhite bull is that gives me such strange disquiet?\"\n\nMambres replied,--\n\n\"I have already confessed to you, frankly, that my knowledge declines in\nproportion as my age advances; but I mistake much if the serpent is not\ninformed of what you are so very desirous of knowing. He does not want\nsense. He expresses himself with propriety. He has been long accustomed\nto interfere in the affairs of the ladies.\"\n\n\"Ah! undoubtedly,\" said Amasidia, \"this is the beautiful serpent of\nEgypt, who, by fixing his tail into his mouth, becomes the emblem of\neternity; who enlightens the world when he opens his eyes, and darkens\nit when he shuts them?\"\n\n\"No, Miss.\"\n\n\"It is then the serpent of \u00c6sculapius?\"\n\n\"Still less.\"\n\n\"It is perhaps Jupiter under the figure of a serpent?\"\n\n\"Not at all.\"\n\n\"Ah, now I see, I see. It is the rod which you formerly changed into a\nserpent?\"\n\n\"No, indeed, it is not; but all these serpents are of the same family.\nThis one has a very high character in his own country. He passes there\nfor the most extraordinary serpent that was ever seen. Address yourself\nto him. However, I warn you it is a dangerous undertaking. Were I in\nyour place, I would hardly trouble myself either with the bull, the\nshe-ass, the he-goat, the serpent, the fish, the raven, or the pigeon.\nBut passion hurries you on; and all I can do is to pity you, and\ntremble.\"\n\nThe princess conjured him to procure her a t\u00eate-\u00e0-t\u00eate with the serpent.\nMambres, who was obliging, consented, and making profound reflections,\nhe went and communicated to the witch in so insinuating a manner the\nwhim of the princess, that the old woman told him Amasidia might lay her\ncommands upon her; that the serpent was perfectly well bred, and so\npolite to the ladies, that he wished for nothing more than to oblige\nthem, and would not fail to keep the princess's appointment.\n\nThe ancient magician returned to inform the princess of this good news;\nbut he still dreaded some misfortune, and made reflections.\n\n\"You desire to speak with the serpent, mademoiselle. This you may\naccomplish whenever your highness thinks proper. But remember you must\nflatter him; for every animal has a great deal of self-love, and the\nserpent in particular. It is said he was formerly driven out of heaven\nfor excessive pride.\"\n\n\"I have never heard of it,\" replied the princess.\n\n\"I believe it,\" said the old man.\n\nHe then informed her of all the reports which had been spread about this\nfamous serpent.\n\n\"But, my dear princess, whatever singular adventures may have happened\nto him, you never can extort these secrets from him but by flattery.\nHaving formerly deceived women, it is equitable that a woman in her turn\nshould deceive him.\"\n\n\"I will do my utmost,\" said the princess; and departed with her maids of\nhonor. The old woman was feeding the bull at a considerable distance.\n\nMambres left Amasidia to herself, and went and discoursed with the\nwitch. One lady of honor chatted with the she-ass, the others amused\nthemselves with the goat, the dog, the raven, and the pigeon. As for the\nlarge fish that frightened every body, he plunged himself into the Nile\nby order of the old woman.\n\nThe serpent then attended the beautiful Amasidia into the grove, where\nthey had the following conversation.\n\nSERPENT.--You cannot imagine, mademoiselle, how much I am flattered with\nthe honor which your highness deigns to confer upon me.\n\nPRINCESS.--Your great reputation, sir, the beauty of your countenance,\nand the brilliancy of your eyes, have emboldened me to seek for this\nconversation. I know by public report (if it be not false) that you were\nformerly a very great lord in the empyrean heaven.\n\nSERPENT.--It is true, miss, I had there a very distinguished place. It\nis pretended I am a disgraced favorite. This is a report which once went\nabroad in India. The Brahmins were the first who gave a history of my\nadventures. And I doubt not but one day or other the poets of the north\nwill make them the subject of an extravagant epic poem;[1] for in truth\nit is all that can be made of them. Yet I am not so much fallen, but\nthat I have left in this globe a very extensive dominion. I might\nventure to assert that the whole earth belongs to me.\n\nPRINCESS.--I believe it; for they tell me that your powers of persuasion\nare irresistible, and to please is to reign.\n\nSERPENT.--I feel, mademoiselle, while I behold and listen to you, that\nyou have over me the same power which you ascribe to me over so many\nothers.\n\nPRINCESS.--You are, I believe, an amiable conqueror. It is said that\nyour conquests among the fair sex have been numerous, and that you began\nwith our common mother, whose name I have unfortunately forgotten.\n\nSERPENT.--They do me injustice. She honored me with her confidence, and\nI gave her the best advice. I desired that she and her husband should\neat heartily of the fruit of the tree of knowledge. I imagined in doing\nthis that I should please the ruler of all things. It seemed to me that\na tree so necessary to the human race was not planted to be entirely\nuseless. Would the supreme being have wished to have been served by\nfools and idiots? Is not the mind formed for the acquisition of\nknowledge and for improvement? Is not the knowledge of good and evil\nnecessary for doing the one and avoiding the other? I certainly merited\ntheir thanks.\n\nPRINCESS.--Yet, they tell me that you have suffered for it. Probably it\nis since this period that so many ministers have been punished for\ngiving good advice, and so many real philosophers and men of genius\npersecuted for their writings that were useful to mankind.\n\nSERPENT.--It is my enemies who have told you these stories. They say\nthat I am out of favor at court. But a proof that my influence there has\nnot declined, is their own confession that I entered into the council\nwhen it was in agitation to try the good man Job; and I was again called\nupon when the resolution was taken to deceive a certain petty king\ncalled Ahab. I alone was charged with this honorable commission.\n\nPRINCESS.--Ah, sir! I do not believe that you are formed to deceive. But\nsince you are always in the ministry, may I beg a favor of you? I hope\nso amiable a lord will not deny me.\n\nSERPENT.--Mademoiselle, your requests are laws; name your commands.\n\nPRINCESS.--I intreat that you will tell me who this white bull is, for\nwhom I feel such extraordinary sentiments, which both affect and alarm\nme. I am told that you would deign to inform me.\n\nSERPENT.--Curiosity is necessary to human nature, and especially to your\namiable sex. Without it they would live in the most shameful ignorance.\nI have always satisfied, as far as lay in my power, the curiosity of the\nladies. I am accused indeed of using this complaisance only to vex the\nruler of the world. I swear to you, that I could propose nothing more\nagreeable to myself than to obey you; but the old woman must have\ninformed you that the revealing of this secret will be attended with\nsome danger to you.\n\nPRINCESS.--Ah! it is that which makes me still more curious.\n\nSERPENT.--In this I discover the sex to whom I have formerly done\nservice.\n\nPRINCESS.--If you possess any feeling; if rational beings should\nmutually assist each other; if you have compassion for an unfortunate\ncreature, do not refuse my request.\n\nSERPENT.--You affect me. I must satisfy you; but do not interrupt me.\n\nPRINCESS.--I promise you I will not.\n\nSERPENT.--There was a young king, beautiful, charming, in love,\nbeloved--\n\nPRINCESS.--A young king! beautiful, charming, in love, beloved! And by\nwhom? And who was this king? How old was he? What has become of him?\nWhere is his kingdom? What is his name?\n\nSERPENT.--See, I have scarce begun, and you have already interrupted me.\nTake care. If you have not more command over yourself, you are undone.\n\nPRINCESS.--Ah, pardon me, sir. I will not repeat my indiscretion. Go on,\nI beseech you.\n\nSERPENT.--This great king, the most valiant of men, victorious wherever\nhe carried his arms, often dreamed when asleep, and forgot his dreams\nwhen awake. He wanted his magicians to remember and inform him what he\nhad dreamed, otherwise he declared he would hang them; for that nothing\nwas more equitable. It is now near seven years since he dreamed a fine\ndream, which he entirely forgot when he awoke; and a young Jew, full of\nexperience, having revealed it to him, this amiable king was immediately\nchanged into an ox for--\n\nPRINCESS.--Ah! it is my dear Neb----\n\nShe could not finish, she fainted away. Mambres, who listened at a\ndistance, saw her fall, and believed her dead.\n\n[Illustration: Serpent.]\n\n[1] A prophetic reference by the serpent to Milton's _Paradise\nLost_.--E.\n\n[Illustration: Nebuchadnezzar.--Nebuchadnezzar, transformed into a white\nbull, is recognized by Amasidia.]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\nHOW THEY WANTED TO SACRIFICE THE BULL, AND EXORCISE THE PRINCESS.\n\n\nMambres runs to her weeping. The serpent is affected. He, alas, cannot\nweep; but he hisses in a mournful tone. He cries out, \"She is dead.\" The\nass repeats, \"She is dead.\" The raven tells it over again. All the other\nanimals appeared afflicted, except the fish of Jonah, which has always\nbeen merciless. The lady of honor, the ladies of the court, arrive and\ntear their hair. The white bull, who fed at a distance and heard their\ncries, ran to the grove dragging the old woman after him, while his loud\nbellowings made the neighboring echoes resound. To no purpose did the\nladies pour upon the expiring Amasidia their bottles of rose-water, of\npink, of myrtle, of benzoin, of balm of Gilead, of amomum, of\ngilly-flower, of nutmeg, of ambergris. She had not as yet given the\nsmallest signs of life. But as soon as she perceived that the beautiful\nwhite bull was beside her, she came to herself, more blooming, more\nbeautiful and lively than ever. A thousand times did she kiss this\ncharming animal, who languishingly leaned his head on her snowy bosom.\nShe called him, \"My master, my king, my dear, my life!\" She throws her\nfair arms around his neck, which was whiter than the snow. The light\nstraw does not adhere more closely to the amber, the vine to the elm,\nnor the ivy to the oak. The sweet murmur of her sighs was heard. Her\neyes were seen, now sparkling with a tender flame, and now obscured by\nthose precious tears which love makes us shed.\n\nWe may easily judge into what astonishment the lady of honor and ladies\nof her train were thrown. As soon as they entered the palace, they\nrelated to their lovers this extraordinary adventure, and every one with\ndifferent circumstances, which increased its singularity, and which\nalways contributes to the variety of all histories.\n\nNo sooner was Amasis, king of Tanis, informed of these events, than his\nroyal breast was inflamed with just indignation. Such was the wrath of\nMinos, when he understood that his daughter Pasiph\u00e6 lavished her tender\nfavors upon the father of the Minotaur. Thus raged Juno, when she beheld\nJupiter caressing the beautiful cow Io, daughter of the river Inachus.\nFollowing the dictates of passion, the stern Amasis imprisoned his\nunhappy daughter, the beautiful Amasidia, in her chamber and placed over\nher a guard of black eunuchs. He then assembled his privy council.\n\nThe grand magician presided there, but had no longer the same influence\nas formerly. All the ministers of state concluded that this white bull\nwas a sorcerer. It was quite the contrary. He was bewitched. But in\ndelicate affairs they are always mistaken at court.\n\nIt was carried by a great majority that the princess should be\nexorcised, and the old woman and the bull sacrificed.\n\nThe wise Mambres contradicted not the opinion of the king and council.\nThe right of exorcising belonged to him. He could delay it under some\nplausible pretence. The god Apis had lately died at Memphis. A god ox\ndies just like another ox. And it was not allowed to exorcise any person\nin Egypt until a new ox was found to replace the deceased.\n\nIt was decreed in the council to wait until the nomination should be\nmade of a new god at Memphis.\n\nThe good old man, Mambres, perceived to what danger his dear princess\nwas exposed. He knew who her lover was. The syllables NEBU----, which\nhad escaped her, laid open the whole mystery to the eyes of this sage.\n\nThe dynasty of Memphis belonged at that time to the Babylonians. They\npreserved this remainder of the conquests they had gained under the\ngreatest king of the world, to whom Amasis was a mortal enemy. Mambres\nhad occasion for all his wisdom to conduct himself properly in the midst\nof so many difficulties. If the king Amasis should discover the lover of\nhis daughter, her death would be inevitable. He had sworn it. The great,\nthe young, the beautiful king of whom she was enamored, had dethroned\nthe king her father, and Amasis had only recovered his kingdom about\nseven years. From that time it was not known what had become of the\nadorable monarch--the conqueror and idol of the nations--the tender and\ngenerous lover of the charming Amasidia. Sacrificing the white bull\nwould eventually occasion the death of the beautiful princess.\n\n[Illustration: Lot and his wayward daughters leaving Sodom.--From a\ncelebrated picture in S. Marks, Florence, by Domenico Cresti, named il\nPassigiano.]\n\n\n\n     DESTRUCTION OF SODOM AND GOMORRAH.\n\n     A STRANGE METAMORPHOSIS.\n\n\n     In the preceding engraving the artist has pictured the \"Cities of\n     the Plain\" in flames, ignited by a shower of \"fire and brimstone\n     out of heaven.\" Warned by an angel, Lot and his family are fleeing\n     from the conflagration. The madame has, however, unfortunately\n     changed her mind, and is seen returning toward the doomed locality.\n     She dearly loves her home, and braves danger--even death--in its\n     protection. Her husband and her children heartlessly forsake her.\n     Lot does not look like the coward he is represented to have been,\n     who basely offered to surrender his daughters to the horrible abuse\n     of a Sodomite mob; and the daughters--innocent and beautiful--seem\n     incapable of the depravity with which they are charged in the\n     nineteenth chapter of Genesis.\n\n     The comical statement that Madame Lot was transformed into \"a\n     pillar of salt\" for merely _looking back_ toward her old home in\n     Sodom, rests on bible authority, and is believed by all the world\n     excepting intelligent clergymen, scientists, philosophers and\n     reasonable people.\n\n     The assertion of Mambres, (page 15), that this estimable \"pillar\"\n     has become \"very sharp tasted,\" rests on the authority of certain\n     eastern travelers who claim to have examined and tasted the saline\n     remains of this unfortunate female. But as this last claim is based\n     on a French romance and not on Hebrew revelation, readers may be\n     pardoned for receiving it with the greatest caution. Indeed, all\n     that is absolutely necessary for even the orthodox to believe is\n     that, \"once upon a time,\" a Sodomite matron was chemically changed\n     into pure chloride of sodium, and not that said sodium still\n     retains its sharp and acrid flavor.--E.\n\nWhat could Mambres do in such critical circumstances? He went, after the\ncouncil had broken up, to find his dear foster daughter.\n\n\"My dear child,\" he says, \"I will serve you; but I repeat it, they will\nbehead you if ever you pronounce the name of your lover.\"\n\n\"Ah! what signifies my neck,\" replied the beautiful Amasidia, \"if I\ncannot embrace that of Nebu--? My father is a cruel man. He not only\nrefuses to give me a charming prince whom I adore, but he declares war\nagainst him; and after he was conquered by my lover, he has found the\nsecret of changing him into an ox. Did one ever see more frightful\nmalice? If my father were not my father, I do not know what I should do\nto him.\"\n\n\"It was not your father who played him this cruel trick,\" said the wise\nMambres. \"It was a native of Palestine, one of our ancient enemies, an\ninhabitant of a little country comprehended in that crowd of kingdoms\nwhich your lover subdued in order to polish and refine them.\n\n\"Such metamorphoses must not surprise you. You know that formerly I\nperformed more extraordinary. Nothing was at that time more common than\nthose changes which at present astonish philosophers. True history,\nwhich we have read together, informs us that Lycaon, king of Arcadia,\nwas changed into a wolf; the beautiful Calista, his daughter, into a\nbear; Io, the daughter of Inachus, our venerable Isis, into a cow;\nDaphne into a laurel; Sirinx into a flute; the fair Edith, wife of\nLot--the best and most affectionate husband and father ever known in the\nworld--has she not become, in our neighborhood, a pillar of salt, very\nsharp tasted, which has preserved both her likeness and form, as the\ngreat men attest who have seen it? I was witness to this change in my\nyouth. I saw seven powerful cities in the most dry and parched situation\nin the world, all at once transformed into a beautiful lake. In the\nearly part of my life, the whole world was full of metamorphoses.\n\n\"In fine, madam, if examples can soothe your grief, remember that Venus\nchanged Cerastes into an ox.\"\n\n\"I do not know,\" said the princess, \"that examples comfort us. If my\nlover were dead, could I comfort myself by the idea that all men die?\"\n\n\"Your pain may at least be alleviated,\" replied the sage; \"and since\nyour lover has become an ox, it is possible from an ox he may become a\nman. As for me, I should deserve to be changed into a tiger or a\ncrocodile, if I did not employ the little power I have in the service of\na princess worthy of the adoration of the world,--if I did not labor for\nthe beautiful Amasidia, whom I have nursed upon my knees, and whom fatal\ndestiny exposes to such rude trials.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V.\n\nHOW THE WISE MAMBRES CONDUCTED HIMSELF WISELY.\n\n\nThe sage Mambres having said every thing he could to comfort the\nprincess, but without succeeding in so doing, ran to the old woman.\n\n\"My companion,\" said he to her, \"ours is a charming profession, but a\nvery dangerous one. You run the risk of being hanged, and your ox of\nbeing burned, drowned or devoured, I don't know what they will do with\nyour other animals; for, prophet as I am, I know very little; but do you\ncarefully conceal the serpent, and the fish. Let not the one show his\nhead above water, nor the other venture out of his hole. I will place\nthe ox in one of my stables in the country. You shall be there with him,\nsince you say that you are not allowed to abandon him. The good\nscape-goat may upon this occasion serve as an expiation. We will send\nhim into the desert loaded with the sins of all the rest. He is\naccustomed to this ceremony, which does him no harm; and every one knows\nthat sin is expiated by means of a he-goat, who walks about for his own\namusement. I only beg of you to lend me immediately Tobit's dog, who is\na very swift greyhound; Balaam's ass, who runs better than a dromedary;\nthe raven and the pigeon of the ark, who fly with amazing swiftness. I\nwant to send them on an embassy to Memphis. It is an affair of great\nconsequence.\"\n\nThe old woman replied to the magician:\n\n\"You may dispose as you please of Tobit's dog,[1] of Balaam's ass, of\nthe raven and the pigeon of the ark, and of the scape-goat; but my ox\ncannot enter into a stable. It is said, Daniel, v:21,--That he must be\nalways made fast to an iron chain, be always wet with the dew of heaven,\nand eat the grass of the field, and his portion be with the wild beasts.\n\n\"He is entrusted to me, and I must obey. What would Daniel, Ezekiel, and\nJeremiah, think of me, if I trusted my ox to any other than to myself? I\nsee you know the secret of this extraordinary animal, but I have not to\nreproach myself with having revealed it to you. I am going to conduct\nhim far from this polluted land, toward the lake Sirbon, where he will\nbe sheltered from the cruelties of the king of Tanis. My fish and my\nserpent will defend me. I fear nobody when I serve my master.\"\n\n\"My good woman,\" answered the wise Mambres, \"let the will of God be\ndone! Provided I can find your white bull again, the lake Sirbon, the\nlake Maris, or the lake of Sodom, are to me perfectly indifferent. I\nwant to do nothing but good to him and to you. But why have you spoken\nto me of Daniel, Ezekiel, and Jeremiah?\"\n\n\"Ah! sir,\" answered the old woman, \"you know as well as I what concern\nthey have in this important affair. But I have no time to lose. I don't\ndesire to be hanged. I want not that my bull should be burned, drowned,\nor devoured. I go to the lake Sirbon by Canopus, with my serpent and my\nfish. Adieu.\"\n\nThe bull followed her pensively, after having testified his gratitude to\nthe beneficent Mambres.\n\nThe wise Mambres was greatly troubled. He saw that Amasis, king of\nTanis, distracted by the strange passion of his daughter for this\nanimal, and believing her bewitched, would pursue everywhere the\nunfortunate bull, who would infallibly be burned as a sorcerer in the\npublic place of Tanis, or given to the fish of Jonah, or be roasted and\nserved up for food. Mambres wanted at all events to save the princess\nfrom this cruel disaster.\n\nHe wrote a letter in sacred characters, to his friend, the high priest\nof Memphis, upon the paper of Egypt, which was not yet in use. Here are\nthe identical words of this letter:\n\n     \"Light of the world, lieutenant of Isis, Osiris, and Horus, chief\n     of the circumcised, you whose altar is justly raised above all\n     thrones! I am informed that your god, the ox Apis, is dead. I have\n     one at your service. Come quickly with your priests to acknowledge,\n     to worship him, and to conduct him into the stable of your temple.\n     May Isis, Osiris, and Horus, keep you in their holy and worthy\n     protection, and likewise the priests of Memphis in their holy care.\n\n                                   Your affectionate friend,\n                                                   Mambres.\"\n\n\nHe made four copies of this letter for fear of accidents, and enclosed\nthem in cases of the hardest ebony. Then calling to him his four\ncouriers, whom he had destined for this employment, (these were the ass,\nthe dog, the raven, and the pigeon,) he said to the ass:\n\n\"I know with what fidelity you served Balaam my brother. Serve me as\nfaithfully. There is not an unicorn who equals you in swiftness. Go, my\ndear friend, and deliver this letter to the person himself to whom it is\ndirected, and return.\"\n\nThe ass answered:\n\n\"Sir, as I served Balaam, I will serve you. I will go, and I will\nreturn.\"\n\nThe sage put the box of ebony into her mouth, and she swiftly departed.\nHe then called Tobit's dog.\n\n\"Faithful dog,\" said Mambres, \"more speedy in thy course than the\nnimble-footed Achilles, I know what you performed for Tobit, son of\nTobit, when you and the angel Raphael accompanied him from Nineveh to\nRagusa in Medea, and from Ragusa to Nineveh, and that he brought back to\nhis father ten talents, which the slave Tobit, the father, had lent to\nthe slave Gabellus; for the slaves at that time were very rich. Carry\nthis letter as it is directed. It is much more valuable than ten talents\nof silver.\"\n\nThe dog then replied:\n\n\"Sir, if I formerly followed the messenger Raphael, I can with equal\nease execute your commission.\"\n\nMambres put the letter into his mouth.\n\nHe next spoke in the same manner to the pigeon, who replied.\n\n\"Sir, if I brought back a bough into the ark, I will likewise bring you\nback an answer.\"\n\nShe took the letter in her bill, and the three messengers were out of\nsight in a moment. Then Mambres addressed the raven,\n\n\"I know that you fed the great prophet Elijah, when he was concealed\nnear the torrent of Cherith, so much celebrated in the world. You\nbrought him every day good bread and fat pullets. I only ask of you to\ncarry this letter to Memphis.\"\n\nThe raven answered in these words:\n\n\"It is true, sir, that I carried every day a dinner to the great prophet\nElijah the Tishbite. I saw him mount in a chariot of fire drawn by fiery\nhorses, although this is not the usual method of traveling. But I always\ntook care to eat half the dinner myself. I am very well pleased to carry\nyour letter, provided you make me certain of two good meals every day,\nand that I am paid money in advance for my commission.\"\n\nMambres, angry, replied:\n\n\"Gluttonous and malicious creature, I am not astonished that Apollo has\nmade you black as a mole, after being white as a swan, as you was\nformerly before you betrayed in the plains of Thessaly the beautiful\nCoronis, the unfortunate mother of \u00c6sculapius. Tell me, did you eat ribs\nof beef and pullets every day when you was ten whole months in the ark?\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said the raven, \"we had there very good cheer. They served up\nroast meat twice a day to all the fowls of my species who live upon\nnothing but flesh, such as the vultures, kites, eagles, buzzards,\nsparrow-hawks, owls, tarsels, falcons, great owls, and an innumerable\ncrowd of birds of prey. They furnished, with the most plentiful\nprofusion, the tables of the lions, leopards, tigers, panthers, hy\u00e6nas,\nwolves, bears, foxes, polecats, and all sorts of carnivorous quadrupeds.\nThere were in the ark eight persons of distinction, (and the only ones\nwho were then in the world,) continually employed in the care of our\ntable and our wardrobe; Noah and his wife, who were about six hundred\nyears old, their three sons and their three wives. It was charming to\nsee with what care, what dexterity, what cleanliness, our eight\ndomestics served four thousand of the most ravenous guests, without\nreckoning the amazing trouble which about ten or twelve thousand other\nanimals required, from the elephant and the giraffe, to the silk-worm\nand fly. What astonishes me is, that our purveyor Noah is unknown to all\nthe nations of whom he is the stem, but I don't much mind it. I had\nalready been present at a similar entertainment with Xesustres king of\nThrace. Such things as these happen from time to time for the\ninstruction of ravens. In a word, I want to have good cheer, and to be\npaid in ready money.\"\n\nThe wise Mambres took care not to give his letter to such a discontented\nand babbling animal; and they separated very much dissatisfied with each\nother.\n\nBut it is necessary to know what became of the white bull, and not to\nlose sight of the old woman and the serpent. Mambres ordered his\nintelligent and faithful domestics to follow them; and as for himself,\nhe advanced in a litter by the side of the Nile, always making\nreflections.\n\n[Illustration: Daniel, Ezekiel, and Jeremiah.--\"A boatman singing a\njovial song, made fast a small boat by the side of the river, and three\ngrave personages, half clothed in dirty, tattered garments, landed from\nit; but preserved, under the garb of poverty the most majestic and\naugust air. These strangers were Daniel, Ezekiel, and Jeremiah.\"]\n\n\"How is it possible,\" said he to himself, \"that a serpent should be\nmaster of almost all the world, as he boasts, and as so many learned men\nacknowledge, and that he nevertheless obeys an old woman? How is it,\nthat he is sometimes called to the council of the Most High, while he\ncreeps upon earth? In what manner can he enter by his power alone into\nthe bodies of men, and that so many men pretend to dislodge him by means\nof words? In short, why does he pass with a small neighboring people,\nfor having ruined the human race? And how is it that the human race are\nentirely ignorant of this? I am old, I have studied all my life, but I\nsee a crowd of inconsistencies which I cannot reconcile. I cannot\naccount for what has happened to myself, neither for the great things\nwhich I long ago performed, nor those of which I have been witness.\nEvery thing well considered, I begin to think that this world subsists\nby contradictions, _rerum concordia discors_, as my master Zoroaster\nformerly said.\"\n\nWhile he was plunged in this obscure metaphysical reasoning,--obscure\nlike all metaphysics,--a boatman singing a jovial song, made fast a\nsmall boat by the side of the river, and three grave personages, half\nclothed in dirty tattered garments, landed from it; but preserved, under\nthe garb of poverty, the most majestic and august air. These strangers\nwere Daniel, Ezekiel, and Jeremiah.\n\n\n[1] \"Histories,\" says Pope, in his _Poetical Works_, vol. 4, p. 245,\n\"are more full of examples of the fidelity of dogs than of friends, but:\nI will only say for the honor of dogs, that the two most ancient and\nestimable books, sacred and profane, extant, viz. the Scripture and\nHomer, have shown a particular regard to these animals. That of Tobit is\nthe most remarkable, because there seemed no manner of reason to take\nnotice of the dog, besides the great humanity of the author. ['And the\ndog went after them,' _Tobit_, xi: 4.] Homer's account of Ulysses's dog,\nArgus, is the most pathetic imaginable, all the circumstances\nconsidered, and an excellent proof of the old bard's good nature....\nPlutarch, relating how the Athenians were obliged to abandon Athens in\nthe time of Themistocles, steps back again out of the way of his\nhistory, purely to describe the lamentable cries and howlings of the\npoor dogs they left behind. He makes mention of one that followed his\nmaster across the sea to Salamis, where he died, and was honored with a\ntomb by the Athenians, who gave the name of the Dog's Grave to that part\nof the island where he was buried. This respect to a dog, in the most\npolite people of the world, is very observable. A modern instance of\ngratitude to a dog is, that the chief order of Denmark, (now injuriously\ncalled the order of the elephant), was instituted in memory of the\nfidelity of a dog, named Wildbrat, to one of their kings who had been\ndeserted by his subjects. He gave his order this motto, or to this\neffect, (which still remains), 'Wildbrat was faithful.' Sir William\nTrumbull has told me a story, which he heard from one that was present.\nKing Charles I. being with some of his Court, during his troubles, a\ndiscourse arose what sort of dogs deserved pre-eminence, and it being on\nall hands agreed to belong either to the spaniel or greyhound, the King\ngave his opinion on the part of the greyhound, because (said he) it has\nall the good-nature of the other without the fawning.\"\n\nThis satire upon fawning would no doubt have been as applicable to the\ncourt of king Amasis as to that of Charles I., for fawning has ever been\nthe besetting sin of dogs and courtiers.\n\nIt is indeed a grand testimonial to the value of the greyhound, that his\nfleetness and fidelity were appreciated by Mambres, the great Egyptian\nmagician, five thousand years before they were endorsed by the\nunfortunate English king. Miss Endor, Homer, Ulysses, Mambres, Tobit,\nPlutarch, the polite Athenians, Charles I., and Alexander Pope are\ncertainly as respectable a list of references as the most aristocratic\ngreyhound could desire.--E.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI.\n\nHOW MAMBRES MET THREE PROPHETS, AND GAVE THEM A GOOD DINNER.\n\n\nThese three great men who had the prophetic light in their countenance,\nknew the wise Mambres to be one of their brethren, by some marks of the\nsame light which he had still remaining, and prostrated themselves\nbefore his litter. Mambres likewise knew them to be prophets, more by\ntheir uncouth dress, than by those gleams of fire which proceeded from\ntheir august heads. He conjectured that they came to learn news of the\nwhite bull; and conducting himself with his usual propriety, he alighted\nfrom his carriage and advanced a few steps toward them, with dignified\npoliteness. He raised them up, caused tents to be erected, and prepared\na dinner, of which he rightly judged that the prophets had very great\nneed.\n\nHe invited the old woman to it, who was only about five hundred paces\nfrom them. She accepted the invitation, and arrived leading her white\nbull.\n\nTwo soups were served up, one _de Bisque_, and the other _a la Reine_.\nThe first course consisted of a carp's tongue pie, livers of eel-pouts,\nand pikes; fowls dressed with pistachios, pigeons with truffles and\nolives; two young turkeys with gravy of cray fish, mushrooms, and\nmorels; and a chipotata. The second course was composed of pheasants,\npartridges, quails, and ortalons, with four salads; the epergne was in\nthe highest taste; nothing could be more delicious than the side dishes,\nnothing more brilliant and more ingenious than the dessert. But the wise\nMambres took great care to have no boiled beef, nor short ribs, nor\ntongue, nor palate of an ox, nor cows' udder, lest the unfortunate\nmonarch near at hand should think that they insulted him.\n\nThis great and unfortunate prince was feeding near the tent; and never\ndid he feel in a more cruel manner the fatal revolution which had\ndeprived him of his throne for seven long years.\n\n\"Alas!\" said he, to himself, \"this Daniel who has changed me into a\nbull, and this sorceress my keeper, make the best cheer in the world;\nwhile I, the sovereign of Asia, am reduced to the necessity of eating\ngrass, and drinking water.\"\n\nWhen they had drank heartily of the wine of Engaddi, of Tadmor, and of\nSebiras, the prophets and the witch conversed with more frankness than\nat the first course.\n\n\"I must acknowledge,\" said Daniel, \"that I did not live so well in the\nlion's den.\"\n\n\"What, sir,\" said Mambres, \"did they put you into a den of lions? How\ncame you not to be devoured?\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said Daniel, \"you know very well that lions never eat prophets.\"\n\n\"As for me,\" said Jeremiah, \"I have passed my whole life starving of\nhunger. This is the only day I ever ate a good meal; and were I to spend\nmy life over again, and had it in my power to choose my condition, I\nmust own I would much rather be comptroller-general or bishop of\nBabylon, than prophet at Jerusalem.\"\n\nEzekiel cried, \"I was once ordered to sleep three hundred and ninety\ndays upon my left side, and to eat all that time bread of wheat, and\nbarley, and beans, and lentiles, cooked in the strangest manner. Still I\nmust own that the cookery of Seigneur Mambres is much more delicate.\nHowever, the prophetic trade has its advantages, and the proof is, that\nthere are many who follow it.\"\n\nAfter they had spoken thus freely, Mambres entered upon business. He\nasked the three pilgrims the reason of their journey into the dominions\nof the king of Tanis. Daniel replied, \"That the kingdom of Babylon had\nbeen all in a flame since Nebuchadnezzar had disappeared: that according\nto the custom of the court, they had persecuted all the prophets, who\npassed their lives in sometimes seeing kings humbled at their feet, and\nsometimes receiving a hundred lashes from them; that at length they had\nbeen obliged to take refuge in Egypt for fear of being starved.\"\n\nEzekiel and Jeremiah likewise spoke a long time in such fine terms, that\nit was almost impossible to understand them. As for the witch, she had\nalways a strict eye over her charge. The fish of Jonah continued in the\nNile, opposite to the tent, and the serpent sported upon the grass.\nAfter drinking coffee, they took a walk by the side of the Nile; and the\nwhite bull, perceiving the three prophets, his enemies, bellowed most\ndreadfully, ran furiously at them, and gored them with his horns. As\nprophets never have anything but skin upon their bones, he would\ncertainly have run them through; but the ruler of the world, who sees\nall and remedies all, changed them immediately into magpies; and they\ncontinued to chatter as before. The same thing happened since to the\nPierides;[1] so much has fable always imitated sacred history.\n\nThis incident caused new reflections in the mind of Mambres.\n\n\"Here,\" said he, \"are three great prophets changed into magpies. This\nought to teach us never to speak too much, and always to observe a\nsuitable discretion.\"\n\nHe concluded that wisdom was better than eloquence, and thought\nprofoundly as usual; when a great and terrible spectacle presented\nitself to his eyes.\n\n\n[1] The nine daughters of Pierus, king of Emathia, were called Pierides.\nThey entered into a contest with the Muses, and being conquered were\nmetamorphosed into birds.--E.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII.\n\nHOW KING AMASIS WANTED TO GIVE THE WHITE BULL TO BE DEVOURED BY THE FISH\nOF JONAH, AND DID NOT DO IT.\n\n\nClouds of dust floated from south to north. The noise of drums, fifes,\npsalteries, harps, and sackbuts was heard. Several squadrons and\nbattalions advanced, and Amasis, king of Tanis, was at their head upon\nan Arabian horse caparisoned with scarlet trappings embroidered with\ngold. The heralds proclaimed that they should seize the white bull, bind\nhim, and throw him into the Nile, to be devoured by the fish of Jonah;\n\"for the king our lord, who is just, wants to revenge himself upon the\nwhite bull, who has bewitched his daughter.\"\n\nThe good old man Mambres made more reflections than ever. He saw very\nplainly that the malicious raven had told all to the king, and that the\nprincess ran a great risk of being beheaded.\n\n\"My dear friend,\" said he to the serpent, \"go quickly and comfort the\nfair Amasidia, my foster daughter. Bid her fear nothing whatever may\nhappen, and tell her stories to alleviate her inquietude; for stories\nalways amuse the ladies, and it is only by interesting them that one can\nsucceed in the world.\"\n\nMambres next prostrated himself before Amasis, king of Tanis, and thus\naddressed him:\n\n\"O king, live for ever! The white bull should certainly be sacrificed,\nfor your majesty is always in the right, but the ruler of the world has\nsaid, this bull must not be swallowed up by the fish of Jonah till\nMemphis shall have found a god to supply the place of him who is dead.\nThen thou shalt be revenged, and thy daughter exorcised, for she is\npossessed. Your piety is too great not to obey the commands of the ruler\nof the universe.\"\n\nAmasis, king of Tanis, remained for some time silent and in deep\nthought.\n\n\"The god Apis,\" said he, at length, \"is dead! God rest his soul! When do\nyou think another ox will be found to reign over the fruitful Egypt?\"\n\n\"Sire,\" replied Mambres, \"I ask but eight days.\"\n\n\"I grant them to you,\" replied the king, who was very religious, \"and I\nwill remain here the eight days. At the expiration of that time I will\nsacrifice the enemy of my daughter.\"\n\nAmasis immediately ordered that his tents, cooks, and musicians should\nbe brought, and remained here eight days, as it is related in Manethon.\n\nThe old woman was in despair that the bull she had in charge had but\neight days to live. She raised phantoms every night, in order to\ndissuade the king from his cruel resolution; but Amasis forgot in the\nmorning the phantoms he had seen in the night; similar to\nNebuchadnezzar, who had always forgotten his dreams.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII.\n\nHOW THE SERPENT TOLD STORIES TO THE PRINCESS TO COMFORT HER.\n\n\nMeanwhile the serpent told stories to the fair Amasidia to soothe her.\nHe related to her how he had formerly cured a whole nation of the bite\nof certain little serpents, only by showing himself at the end of a\nstaff. (_Num. xx:9._) He informed her of the conquests of a hero who\nmade a charming contrast with Amphion, architect of Thebes. Amphion\nassembled hewn stones by the sound of his violin. To build a city he had\nonly to play a rigadoon and a minuet; but the other hero destroyed them\nby the sound of rams' horns. He executed thirty-one powerful kings in a\ncountry of four leagues in length and four in breadth. He made stones\nrain down from heaven upon a battalion of routed Amorites; and having\nthus exterminated them, he stopped the sun and moon at noon-day between\nGibeon and Ajalon, in the road to Beth-horon, to exterminate them still\nmore, after the example of Bacchus, who had stopped the sun and the moon\nin his journey to the Indies.\n\nThe prudence which every serpent ought to have, did not allow him to\ntell the fair Amasidia of the powerful Jephthah, who made a vow and\nbeheaded his daughter, because he had gained a battle. This would have\nstruck terror into the mind of the fair princess. But he related to her\nthe adventures of the great Sampson, who killed a thousand Philistines\nwith the jaw-bone of an ass, who tied together three hundred foxes by\nthe tail, and who fell into the snares of a lady, less beautiful, less\ntender, and less faithful than the charming Amasidia.\n\nHe related to her the story of the unfortunate Sechem and Dinah, as well\nas the more celebrated adventures of Ruth and Boaz; those of Judah and\nTamar; those even of Lot's two daughters; those of Abraham and Jacob's\nservant maids; those of Reuben and Bilhah; those of David and\nBath-sheba; and those of the great king Solomon. In short, every thing\nwhich could dissipate the grief of a fair princess.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX.\n\nHOW THE SERPENT DID NOT COMFORT THE PRINCESS.\n\n\n\"All these stories tire me,\" said Amasidia, for she had understanding\nand taste. \"They are good for nothing but to be commented upon among the\nIrish by that madman Abbadie, or among the Welsh by that prattler\nd'Houteville. Stories which might have amused the great, great, great\ngrandmother of my grandmother, appear insipid to me who have been\neducated by the wise Mambres, and who have read _Human Understanding_ by\nthe Egyptian philosopher named Locke[1] and the _Matron of Ephesus_. I\nchoose that a story should be founded on probability, and not always\nresemble a dream. I desire to find nothing in it trivial or extravagant;\nand I desire above all, that under the appearance of fable there may\nappear some latent truth, obvious to the discerning eye, though it\nescape the observation of the vulgar.\"\n\n\"I am weary of a sun and of a moon which an old beldam disposes of at\nher pleasure, of mountains which dance, of rivers which return to their\nsources, and of dead men who rise again; but I am above measure\ndisgusted when such insipid stories are written in a bombastic and\nunintelligible manner. A lady who expects to see her lover swallowed up\nby a great fish, and who is apprehensive of being beheaded by her own\nfather, has need of amusement; but suit amusement to my taste.\"\n\n\"You impose a difficult task upon me,\" replied the serpent. \"I could\nhave formerly made you pass a few hours agreeably enough, but for some\ntime past I have lost both my imagination and memory. Alas! what has\nbecome of those faculties with which I formerly amused the ladies? Let\nme try, however, if I can recollect one moral tale for your\nentertainment.\n\n\"Five and twenty thousand years ago king Gnaof and queen Patra reigned\nin Thebes with its hundred gates. King Gnaof was very handsome, and\nqueen Patra still more beautiful. But their home was unblest with\nchildren, and no heirs were born to continue the royal race.\n\n\"The members of the faculty of medicine and of the academy of surgery\nwrote excellent treatises upon this subject. The queen was sent to drink\nmineral waters; she fasted and prayed; she made magnificent presents to\nthe temple of Jupiter Ammon, but all was to no purpose. At length a----\"\n\n\"Mon Dieu!\" said the princess, \"but I see where this leads. This story\nis too common, and I must likewise tell you that it offends my modesty.\nRelate some very true and moral story, which I have never yet heard, to\ncomplete the improvement of my understanding and my heart, as the\nEgyptian professor Lenro says.\"\n\n\"Here then, madam,\" said the beautiful serpent, \"is one most\nincontestably authentic.\n\n\"There were three prophets all equally ambitious and discontented with\ntheir condition. They had in common the folly to wish to be kings: for\nthere is only one step from the rank of a prophet to that of a monarch,\nand man always aspires to the highest step in the ladder of fortune. In\nother respects, their inclinations and their pleasures were totally\ndifferent. The first preached admirably to his assembled brethren, who\napplauded him by clapping their hands; the second was distractedly fond\nof music; and the third was a passionate lover of the fair sex.\n\n\"The angel Ithuriel presented himself one day to them when they were at\ntable discoursing on the sweets of royalty.\n\n\"'The ruler of the world,' said the angel to them, 'sends me to you to\nreward your virtue. Not only shall you be kings, but you shall\nconstantly satisfy your ruling passions. Your first prophet, I make king\nof Egypt, and you shall continually preside in your council, who shall\napplaud your eloquence and your wisdom; and you, second prophet, I make\nking over Persia, and you shall continually hear most heavenly music;\nand you, third prophet, I make king of India, and I give you a charming\nmistress who shall never forsake you.'\n\n\"He to whose lot Egypt fell, began his reign by assembling his council,\nwhich was composed only of two hundred sages. He made them a long and\neloquent speech, which was very much applauded, and the monarch enjoyed\nthe pleasing satisfaction of intoxicating himself with praises\nuncorrupted by flattery.\n\n\"The council for foreign affairs succeeded to the privy council. This\nwas much more numerous; and a new speech received still greater\nencomiums. And it was the same in the other councils. There was not a\nmoment of intermission in the pleasures and glory of the prophet king of\nEgypt. The fame of his eloquence filled the world.\n\n\"The prophet king of Persia began his reign by an Italian opera, whose\nchoruses were sung by fifteen hundred eunuchs. Their voices penetrated\nhis soul even to the very marrow of the bones, where it resides. To this\nopera succeeded another, and to the second a third, without\ninterruption.\n\n\"The king of India shut himself up with his mistress, and enjoyed\nperfect pleasure in her society. He considered the necessity of always\nflattering her as the highest felicity, and pitied the wretched\nsituation of his two brethren, of whom one was obliged always to convene\nhis council, and the other to be continually at an opera.\n\n\"It happened at the end of a few days, that each of these kings became\ndisgusted with his occupation, and beheld from his window, certain\nwood-cutters who came from an ale-house, and who were going to work in a\nneighboring forest. They walked arm in arm with their sweet-hearts, with\nwhom they were happy. The kings begged of the angel Ithuriel, that he\nwould intercede with the ruler of the world, and make them\nwood-cutters.\"\n\n\"I do not know whether the ruler of the world granted their request or\nnot,\" interrupted the tender Amasidia, \"and I do not care much about it;\nbut I know very well that I should ask for nothing of any one, were I\nwith my lover, with my dear NEBUCHADNEZZAR!\"\n\nThe vaults of the palace resounded this mighty name. At first Amasidia\nhad only pronounced Ne--, afterwards Neb--, then Nebu----. At length\npassion hurried her on, and she pronounced entire the fatal name,\nnotwithstanding the oath she had sworn to the king, her father. All the\nladies of the court repeated Nebuchadnezzar, and the malicious raven did\nnot fail to carry the tidings to the king. The countenance of Amasis,\nking of Tanis, sunk, because his heart was troubled. And thus it was\nthat the serpent, the wisest and most subtle of animals, always beguiled\nthe women, thinking to do them service.\n\nAmasis, in a fury, sent twelve alguazils for his daughter. These men are\nalways ready to execute barbarous orders, because they are paid for it.\n\n\n[1] The doctrine of metempsychosis must be relied upon to explain this\nseeming anachronism.--E.\n\n[Illustration: Egyptian priests.]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X.\n\nHOW THEY WANTED TO BEHEAD THE PRINCESS, AND DID NOT DO IT.\n\n\nNo sooner had the princess entered the camp of the king, than he said to\nher: \"My daughter, you know that all princesses who disobey their\nfathers are put to death; without which it would be impossible that a\nkingdom could be well governed. I charged you never to mention the name\nof your lover, Nebuchadnezzar, my mortal enemy, who dethroned me about\nseven years ago, and disappeared. In his place, you have chosen a white\nbull, and you have cried Nebuchadnezzar. It is just that I behead you.\"\n\nThe princess replied: \"My father, thy will be done: but grant me some\ntime to bewail my sad fate.\"\n\n\"That is reasonable,\" said King Amasis; \"and it is a rule established\namong the most judicious princes. I give you a whole day to bewail your\ndestiny, since it is your desire. To-morrow, which is the eighth day of\nmy encampment, I will cause the white bull to be swallowed up by the\nfish, and I will behead you precisely at nine o'clock in the morning.\"\n\nThe beautiful Amasidia then went forth in sorrow, to bewail her father's\ncruelty, and wandered by the side of the Nile, accompanied with the\nladies of her train.\n\nThe wise Mambres pondered beside her, and reckoned the hours and the\nmoments.\n\n\"Well! my dear Mambres,\" said she to him, \"you have changed the waters\nof the Nile into blood, according to custom, and cannot you change the\nheart of Amasis, king of Tanis, my father? Will you suffer him to behead\nme to-morrow, at nine o'clock in the morning?\"\n\n\"That depends,\" replied the reflecting Mambres, \"upon the speed and\ndiligence of my couriers.\"\n\nThe next day, as soon as the shadows of the obelisks and pyramids marked\nupon the ground the ninth hour of the day, the white bull was securely\nbound, to be thrown to the fish of Jonah; and they brought to the king\nhis large sabre.\n\n\"Alas! alas!\" said Nebuchadnezzar to himself, \"I, a king, have been a\nbull for near seven years; and scarcely have I found the mistress I had\nlost when I am condemned to be devoured by a fish.\"\n\nNever had the wise Mambres made such profound reflections; and he was\nquite absorbed in his melancholy thoughts when he saw at a distance all\nhe expected. An innumerable crowd drew nigh. Three figures of Isis,\nOsiris, and Horus, joined together, advanced, drawn in a carriage of\ngold and precious stones, by a hundred senators of Memphis, preceded by\na hundred girls, playing upon the sacred sistrums. Four thousand\npriests, with their heads shaved, were each mounted upon a hippopotamus.\n\nAt a great distance, appeared with the same pomp, the sheep of Thebes,\nthe dog of Babastes, the cat of Phoebe, the crocodile of Arsinoe, the\ngoat of Mendez, and all the inferior gods of Egypt, who came to pay\nhomage to the great ox, to the mighty Apis, as powerful as Isis, Osiris,\nand Horus, united together.\n\nIn the midst of the demi-gods, forty priests carried an enormous basket,\nfilled with sacred onions. These were, it is true, gods, but they\nresembled onions very much.\n\nOn both sides of this aisle of gods, followed by an innumerable crowd of\npeople, marched forty thousand warriors, with helmets on their heads,\nscimitars upon their left thighs, quivers at their shoulders, and bows\nin their hands.\n\nAll the priests sang in chorus, with a harmony which ravished the soul,\nand which melted it.\n\n     \"Alas! alas! our ox is dead--\n      We'll have a finer in its stead.\"\n\nAnd at every pause was heard the sound of the sistrums, of cymbals, of\ntabors, of psalteries, of bagpipes, harps, and sackbuts.\n\nAmasis, king of Tanis, astonished at this spectacle, beheaded not his\ndaughter. He sheathed his scimitar.\n\n[Illustration: Winged bull.]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI.\n\nAPOTHEOSIS OF THE WHITE BULL. TRIUMPH OF THE WISE MAMBRES. THE SEVEN\nYEARS PROCLAIMED BY DANIEL ARE ACCOMPLISHED. NEBUCHADNEZZAR RESUMES THE\nHUMAN FORM, MARRIES THE BEAUTIFUL AMASIDIA, AND ASCENDS THE THRONE OF\nBABYLON.\n\n\n\"Great king,\" said Mambres to him, \"the order of things is now changed.\nYour majesty must set the example. O king! quickly unbind the white\nbull, and be the first to adore him.\"\n\nAmasis obeyed, and prostrated himself with all his people. The high\npriest of Memphis presented to the new god Apis the first handful of\nhay; the Princess Amasidia tied to his beautiful horse festoons of\nroses, anemonies, ranunculuses, tulips, pinks, and hyacinths. She took\nthe liberty to kiss him, but with a profound respect. The priests\nstrewed palms and flowers on the road by which they were to conduct him\nto Memphis. And the wise Mambres, still making reflections, whispered to\nhis friend, the serpent:\n\n\"_Daniel changed this monarch into a bull, and I have changed this bull\ninto a god!\"_\n\nThey returned to Memphis in the same order, and the king of Tanis, in\nsome confusion, followed the band. Mambres, with a serene and diplomatic\nair, walked by his side. The old woman came after, much amazed. She was\naccompanied by the serpent, the dog, the she-ass, the raven, the pigeon,\nand the scape-goat. The great fish mounted up the Nile. Daniel, Ezekiel,\nand Jeremiah, changed into magpies, brought up the rear.\n\nWhen they had reached the frontiers of the kingdom, which are not far\ndistant, King Amasis took leave of the bull Apis, and said to his\ndaughter:\n\n\"My daughter, let us return into my dominions, that I may behead you, as\nit has been determined in my royal breast, because you have pronounced\nthe name of Nebuchadnezzar, my enemy, who dethroned me seven years ago.\nWhen a father has sworn to behead his daughter, he must either fulfill\nhis oath, or sink into hell for ever; and I will not damn myself out of\nlove for you.\"\n\nThe fair princess Amasidia replied to the King Amasis:\n\n\"My dear father, whom it pleases you go and behead, but it shall not be\nme. I am now in the territories of Isis, Osiris, Horus, and Apis. I will\nnever forsake my beautiful white bull, and I will continue to kiss him,\ntill I have seen his apotheosis in his stable in the holy city of\nMemphis. It is a weakness pardonable in a young lady of high birth.\"\n\nScarce had she spoken these words, when the ox Apis cried out:\n\n\"My dear Amasidia, I will love you whilst I live!\"\n\nThis was the first time that the god Apis had been heard to speak during\nthe forty thousand years that he had been worshiped.\n\nThe serpent and the she-ass cried out, \"the seven years are\naccomplished!\" And the three magpies repeated, \"the seven years are\naccomplished!\"\n\nAll the priests of Egypt raised their hands to heaven.\n\nThe god on a sudden was seen to lose his two hind legs, his two fore\nlegs were changed into two human legs; two white strong muscular arms\ngrew from his shoulders; his taurine visage was changed to the face of a\ncharming hero; and he once more became the most beautiful of mortals.\n\n\"I choose,\" cried he, \"rather to be the lover of the beautiful Amasidia\nthan a god. I am NEBUCHADNEZZAR, KING OF KINGS!\"\n\nThis metamorphosis astonished all the world, except the wise Mambres.\nBut what surprised nobody was, that Nebuchadnezzar immediately married\nthe fair Amasidia in presence of this assembly.\n\nHe left his father-in-law in quiet possession of the kingdom of Tanis;\nand made noble provision for the she-ass, the serpent, the dog, the\npigeon, and even for the raven, the three magpies, and the large fish;\nshowing to all the world that he knew how to forgive as well as to\nconquer.\n\nThe old woman had a considerable pension placed at her disposal.\n\nThe scape-goat was sent for a day into the wilderness, that all past\nsins might be expiated; and had afterwards twelve sprightly goats for\nhis companions.\n\nThe wise Mambres returned to his palace, and made reflections.\n\nNebuchadnezzar, after having embraced the magician, his benefactor,\ngoverned in tranquillity the kingdoms of Memphis, Babylon, Damascus,\nBalbec, Tyre, Syria, Asia Minor, Scythia, the countries of Thiras,\nMosok, Tubal, Madai, Gog, Magog, Javan, Sogdiana, Aroriana, the Indies,\nand the Isles; and the people of this vast empire cried out aloud every\nmorning at the rising of the sun:\n\n_\"Long live great Nebuchadnezzar, king of kings, who is no longer an\nox!\"_\n\nSince which time it has been a custom in Babylon, when the sovereign,\ndeceived by his satraps, his magicians, treasurers or wives, at length\nacknowledges his errors, and amends his conduct, for all the people to\ncry out at his gate:\n\n_Long live our great king, who is no longer an ox._\n\n[Illustration: The scape-goat]\n\n\n\n\nZADIG; OR FATE.\n\nAN ORIENTAL HISTORY.\n\n\n\n\n     APPROBATION.\n\n     I, the underwritten, who have obtained the character of a learned,\n     and even of an ingenious man, have read this manuscript, which, in\n     spite of myself, I have found to be curious, entertaining, moral,\n     philosophical, and capable of affording pleasure even to those who\n     hate romances. I have therefore decried it; and have assured the\n     cadi-lesquier that it is an abominable performance.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     EPISTLE DEDICATORY TO THE SULTANA SERAA.\n\n     _The 18th of the month Schewal, in the 837th year of the Hegira._\n\n\n     Delight of the eyes, torment of the heart, and light of the mind, I\n     kiss not the dust of thy feet, because thou never walkest; or\n     walkest only on the carpets of Iran, or in paths strewn with roses.\n\n     I offer thee the translation of a book, written by an ancient sage,\n     who, having the happiness to have nothing to do, amused himself in\n     composing the _History of Zadig_; a work which performs more than\n     it promises.\n\n     I beseech thee to read and examine it; for, though thou art in the\n     spring of life, and every pleasure courts thee to its embrace;\n     though thou art beautiful, and thy beauty be embellished by thy\n     admirable talents; though thou art praised from morning to evening,\n     and, on all these accounts, hast a right to be devoid of common\n     sense, yet thou hast a sound judgment and a fine taste; and I have\n     heard thee reason with more accuracy than the old dervises, with\n     their long beards and pointed bonnets.\n\n     Thou art discreet without being distrustful; gentle without\n     weakness; and beneficent with discernment. Thou lovest thy friends,\n     and makest thyself no enemies. Thy wit never borrows its charms\n     from the shafts of detraction. Thou neither sayest nor doest any\n     ill, notwithstanding that both are so much in thy power.\n\n     In a word, thy soul hath always appeared to me to be as pure and\n     unsullied as thy beauty. Besides, thou hast some little knowledge\n     in philosophy, which makes me believe that thou wilt take more\n     pleasure than others of thy sex in perusing the work of this\n     venerable sage.\n\n     It was originally written in the ancient Chaldee, a language which\n     neither thou nor I understand. It was afterward translated into the\n     Arabic, to amuse the famous sultan Oulougbeg, much about the time\n     that the Arabians and the Persians began to write the _Thousand and\n     One Nights_, the _Thousand and One Days_, _etc._\n\n     Ouloug was fond of reading _Zadig_, but the sultanas were fonder of\n     the _Thousand and One_. \"How can you prefer,\" said the wise Ouloug\n     to them, \"those stories which have neither sense nor meaning?\" \"It\n     is for that very reason,\" replied the sultanas, \"that we prefer\n     them.\"\n\n     I flatter myself that thou wilt not resemble these, thy\n     predecessors; but that thou wilt be a true Ouloug. I even hope,\n     that when thou art tired with those general conversations, which\n     differ from the _Thousand and One_ in nothing but in being less\n     agreeable, I shall have the honor to entertain thee for a moment\n     with a rational discourse.\n\n     Hadst thou been Thalestris in the time of Scander, the son of\n     Philip; hadst thou been the Queen of Sheba in the time of Solomon;\n     these are the very kings that would have paid thee a visit.\n\n     I pray the heavenly powers, that thy pleasures may be unmixed, thy\n     beauty never fading, and thy happiness without end.\n\n                                                              SADI.\n\n\n[Illustration: Caravan approaching Babylon.]\n\n\n\n\nI.\n\nTHE BLIND OF ONE EYE.\n\n\nThere lived at Babylon, in the reign of King Moabdar, a young man, named\nZadig, of a good natural disposition, strengthened and improved by\neducation. Though rich and young, he had learned to moderate his\npassions. He had nothing stiff or affected in his behavior. He did not\npretend to examine every action by the strict rules of reason, but was\nalways ready to make proper allowances for the weakness of mankind. It\nwas a matter of surprise, that, notwithstanding his sprightly wit, he\nnever exposed by his raillery those vague, incoherent, and noisy\ndiscourses; those rash censures, ignorant decisions, coarse jests, and\nall that empty jingle of words which at Babylon went by the name of\nconversation. He had learned, in the first book of Zoroaster, that\nself-love is a foot-ball swelled with wind, from which, when pierced,\nthe most terrible tempests issue forth. Above all, Zadig never boasted\nof his conquests among the women, nor affected to entertain a\ncontemptible opinion of the fair sex. He was generous, and was never\nafraid of obliging the ungrateful; remembering the grand precept of\nZoroaster, \"When thou eatest, give to the dogs, should they even bite\nthee.\" He was as wise as it is possible for man to be, for he sought to\nlive with the wise. Instructed in the sciences of the ancient Chaldeans,\nhe understood the principles of natural philosophy, such as they were\nthen supposed to be; and knew as much of metaphysics as hath ever been\nknown in any age, that is, little or nothing at all. He was firmly\npersuaded, notwithstanding the new philosophy of the times, that the\nyear consisted of three hundred and sixty-five days and six hours, and\nthat the sun was the centre of the solar system. When the principal magi\ntold him, with a haughty and contemptuous air, that his sentiments were\nof a dangerous tendency, and that it was to be an enemy to the state to\nbelieve that the sun revolved round its own axis, and that the year had\ntwelve months, he held his tongue with great modesty and meekness.\n\nPossessed as he was of great riches, and consequently of many friends,\nblessed with a good constitution, a handsome figure, a mind just and\nmoderate, and a heart noble and sincere, he fondly imagined that he\nmight easily be happy. He was going to be married to Semira, who, in\npoint of beauty, birth, and fortune, was the first match in Babylon. He\nhad a real and virtuous affection for this lady, and she loved him with\nthe most passionate fondness. The happy moment was almost arrived that\nwas to unite them for ever in the bands of wedlock, when happening to\ntake a walk together toward one of the gates of Babylon, under the\npalm-trees that adorn the banks of the Euphrates, they saw some men\napproaching, armed with sabres and arrows. These were the attendants of\nyoung Orcan, the minister's nephew, whom his uncle's creatures had\nflattered into an opinion that he might do everything with impunity. He\nhad none of the graces nor virtues of Zadig; but thinking himself a much\nmore accomplished man, he was enraged to find that the other was\npreferred before him. This jealousy, which was merely the effect of his\nvanity, made him imagine that he was desperately in love with Semira;\nand accordingly he resolved to carry her off. The ravishers seized her;\nin the violence of the outrage, they wounded her, and made the blood\nflow from a person, the sight of which would have softened the tigers\nof mount Imaus. She pierced the heavens with her complaints. She cried\nout: \"My dear husband! they tear me from the man I adore!\"\n\nRegardless of her own danger, she was only concerned for the fate of her\ndear Zadig, who, in the meantime, defended himself with all the strength\nthat courage and love could inspire. Assisted only by two faithful\nslaves, he put the cowardly ravishers to flight, and carried home\nSemira, insensible and bloody as she was.\n\n\"O Zadig,\" said she, on opening her eyes, and beholding her deliverer,\n\"I loved thee formerly as my intended husband, I now love thee as the\npreserver of my honor and my life!\"\n\nNever was heart more deeply affected than that of Semira. Never did a\nmore charming mouth express more moving sentiments, in those glowing\nwords inspired by a sense of the greatest of all favors, and by the most\ntender transports of a lawful passion. Her wound was slight, and was\nsoon cured. Zadig was more dangerously wounded. An arrow had pierced him\nnear his eye, and penetrated to a considerable depth, Semira wearied\nheaven with her prayers for the recovery of her lover. Her eyes were\nconstantly bathed in tears; she anxiously waited the happy moment when\nthose of Zadig should be able to meet hers; but an abscess growing on\nthe wounded eye, gave everything to fear. A messenger was immediately\ndispatched to Memphis, for the great physician Hermes, who came with a\nnumerous retinue. He visited the patient, and declared that he would\nlose his eye. He even foretold the day and hour when this fatal event\nwould happen.\n\n\"Had it been the right eye,\" said he, \"I could easily have cured it; but\nthe wounds of the left eye are incurable.\"\n\nAll Babylon lamented the fate of Zadig, and admired the profound\nknowledge of Hermes. In two days the abscess broke of its own accord,\nand Zadig was perfectly cured. Hermes wrote a book, to prove that it\nought not to have been cured. Zadig did not read it: but, as soon as he\nwas able to go abroad, he went to pay a visit to her in whom all his\nhopes of happiness were centered, and for whose sake alone he wished to\nhave eyes. Semira had been in the country for three days past. He\nlearned on the road, that that fine lady, having openly declared that\nshe had an unconquerable aversion to one-eyed men, had the night before\ngiven her hand to Orcan. At this news he fell speechless to the ground.\nHis sorrows brought him almost to the brink of the grave. He was long\nindisposed; but reason at last got the better of his affliction; and the\nseverity of his fate served even to console him.\n\n\"Since,\" said he, \"I have suffered so much from the cruel caprice of a\nwoman educated at court, I must now think of marrying the daughter of a\ncitizen.\"\n\nHe pitched upon Azora, a lady of the greatest prudence, and of the best\nfamily in town. He married her, and lived with her for three months in\nall the delights of the most tender union. He only observed that she had\na little levity; and was too apt to find that those young men who had\nthe most handsome persons were likewise possessed of the most wit and\nvirtue.\n\n\n\n\nII.\n\nTHE NOSE.\n\n\nOne morning Azora returned from a walk in a terrible passion and\nuttering the most violent exclamations.\n\n\"What aileth thee,\" said he, \"my dear spouse? What is it that can thus\nhave disturbed thee?\"\n\n\"Alas!\" said she, \"thou wouldst have been as much enraged as I am, hadst\nthou seen what I have just beheld. I have been to comfort the young\nwidow Cosrou, who, within these two days, hath raised a tomb to her\nyoung husband, near the rivulet that washes the skirts of this meadow.\nShe vowed to heaven, in the bitterness of her grief, to remain at this\ntomb whilst the water of the rivulet should continue to run near it.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Zadig, \"she is an excellent woman, and loved her husband\nwith the most sincere affection.\"\n\n\"Ah!\" replied Azora, \"didst thou but know in what she was employed when\nI went to wait upon her!\"\n\n\"In what, pray tell me, beautiful Azora? Was she turning the course of\nthe rivulet?\"\n\nAzora broke out into such long invectives, and loaded the young widow\nwith such bitter reproaches, that Zadig was far from being pleased with\nthis ostentation of virtue.\n\nZadig had a friend named Cador; one of those young men in whom his wife\ndiscovered more probity and merit than in others. He made him his\nconfidant, and secured his fidelity as much as possible by a\nconsiderable present. Azora, having passed two days with a friend in the\ncountry, returned home on the third. The servants told her, with tears\nin their eyes, that her husband died suddenly the night before; that\nthey were afraid to send her an account of this mournful event; and that\nthey had just been depositing his corpse in the tomb of his ancestors,\nat the end of the garden. She wept, she tore her hair, and swore she\nwould follow him to the grave. In the evening, Cador begged leave to\nwait upon her, and joined his tears with hers. Next day they wept less,\nand dined together. Cador told her, that his friend had left him the\ngreater part of his estate; and that he should think himself extremely\nhappy in sharing his fortune with her. The lady wept, fell into a\npassion, and at last became more mild and gentle. They sat longer at\nsupper than at dinner. They now talked with greater confidence. Azora\npraised the deceased; but owned that he had many failings from which\nCador was free.\n\nDuring supper, Cador complained of a violent pain in his side. The lady,\ngreatly concerned, and eager to serve him, caused all kinds of essences\nto be brought, with which she anointed him, to try if some of them might\nnot possibly ease him of his pain. She lamented that the great Hermes\nwas not still in Babylon. She even condescended to touch the side in\nwhich Cador felt such exquisite pain.\n\n\"Art thou subject to this cruel disorder?\" said she to him, with a\ncompassionate air.\n\n\"It sometimes brings me,\" replied Cador, \"to the brink of the grave; and\nthere is but one remedy that can give me relief--and that is, to apply\nto my side the nose of a man who is lately dead.\"\n\n\"A strange remedy, indeed!\" said Azora.\n\n\"Not more strange,\" replied he, \"than the satchels of Arnou, against the\napoplexy.\"\n\nThis reason, added to the great merit of the young man, at last\ndetermined the lady.\n\n\"After all,\" says she, \"when my husband shall cross the bridge Tchinavar\nin his journey to the other world, the angel Asrael will not refuse him\na passage because his nose is a little shorter in the second life than\nit was in the first.\"\n\nShe then took a razor, went to her husband's tomb, bedewed it with her\ntears, and drew near to cut off the nose of Zadig, whom she found\nextended at full length in the tomb. Zadig arose, holding his nose with\none hand, and putting back the razor with the other.\n\n\"Madam,\" said he, \"don't exclaim so violently against the widow Cosrou.\nThe project of cutting off my nose is equal to that of turning the\ncourse of a rivulet.\"\n\n\n\n\nIII.\n\nTHE DOG AND THE HORSE.\n\n\nZadig found by experience, that the first month of marriage, as it is\nwritten in the book of Zend, is the moon of honey, and that the second\nis the moon of wormwood. He was some time after obliged to repudiate\nAzora, who became too difficult to be pleased; and he then sought for\nhappiness in the study of nature.\n\n\"No man,\" said he, \"can be happier than a philosopher, who reads in this\ngreat book, which God hath placed before our eyes. The truths he\ndiscovers are his own; he nourishes and exalts his soul; he lives in\npeace; he fears nothing from men; and his tender spouse will not come to\ncut off his nose.\"\n\nPossessed of these ideas, he retired to a country house on the banks of\nthe Euphrates. There he did not employ himself in calculating how many\ninches of water flow in a second of time under the arches of a bridge,\nor whether there fell a cube-line of rain in the month of the mouse\nmore than in the month of the sheep. He never dreamed of making silk of\ncobwebs, or porcelain of broken bottles: but he chiefly studied the\nproperties of plants and animals; and soon acquired a sagacity that made\nhim discover a thousand differences where other men see nothing but\nuniformity.\n\nOne day, as he was walking near a little wood, he saw one of the queen's\neunuchs running toward him, followed by several officers, who appeared\nto be in great perplexity, and who ran to and fro like men distracted,\neagerly searching for something they had lost of great value.\n\n\"Young man,\" said the first eunuch, \"hast thou seen the queen's dog?\"\n\n\"It is a bitch,\" replied Zadig, with great modesty, \"and not a dog.\"\n\n\"Thou art in the right,\" returned the first eunuch.\n\n\"It is a very small she-spaniel,\" added Zadig; \"she has lately whelped;\nshe limps on the left fore-foot, and has very long ears.\"\n\n\"Thou hast seen her,\" said the first eunuch, quite out of breath.\n\n\"No,\" replied Zadig, \"I have not seen her, nor did I so much as know\nthat the queen had a bitch.\"\n\nExactly at the same time, by one of the common freaks of fortune, the\nfinest horse in the king's stable had escaped from the jockey in the\nplains of Babylon. The principal huntsman, and all the other officers,\nran after him with as much eagerness and anxiety as the first eunuch had\ndone after the bitch. The principal huntsman addressed himself to Zadig,\nand asked him if he had not seen the king's horse passing by.\n\n\"He is the fleetest horse in the king's stable,\" replied Zadig, \"he is\nfive feet high, with very small hoofs, and a tail three feet and an half\nin length; the studs on his bit are gold, of twenty-three carats, and\nhis shoes are silver of eleven penny-weights.\"\n\n\"What way did he take? where is he?\" demanded the chief huntsman.\n\n\"I have not seen him,\" replied Zadig, \"and never heard talk of him\nbefore.\"\n\nThe principal huntsman and the first eunuch never doubted but that\nZadig had stolen the king's horse and the queen's bitch. They therefore\nhad him conducted before the assembly of the grand desterham, who\ncondemned him to the knout, and to spend the rest of his days in\nSiberia. Hardly was the sentence passed, when the horse and the bitch\nwere both found. The judges were reduced to the disagreeable necessity\nof reversing their sentence; but they condemned Zadig to pay four\nhundred ounces of gold for having said that he had not seen what he had\nseen. This fine he was obliged to pay; after which, he was permitted to\nplead his cause before the counsel of the grand desterham, when he spoke\nto the following effect.\n\n\"Ye stars of justice, abyss of sciences, mirrors of truth, who have the\nweight of lead, the hardness of iron, the splendor of the diamond, and\nmany of the properties of gold; since I am permitted to speak before\nthis august assembly, I swear to you by Oromazes, that I have never seen\nthe queen's respectable bitch, nor the sacred horse of the king of\nkings. The truth of the matter is as follows: I was walking toward the\nlittle wood, where I afterward met the venerable eunuch, and the most\nillustrious chief huntsman. I observed on the sand the traces of an\nanimal, and could easily perceive them to be those of a little dog. The\nlight and long furrows impressed on little eminences of sand between the\nmarks of the paws, plainly discovered that it was a bitch, whose dugs\nwere hanging down, and that therefore she must have whelped a few days\nbefore. Other traces of a different kind, that always appeared to have\ngently brushed the surface of the sand near the marks of the fore-feet,\nshowed me that she had very long ears; and as I remarked that there was\nalways a slighter impression made on the sand by one foot than by the\nother three, I found that the bitch of our august queen was a little\nlame, if I may be allowed the expression. With regard to the horse of\nthe king of kings, you will be pleased to know, that walking in the\nlanes of this wood, I observed the marks of a horse's shoes, all at\nequal distances. This must be a horse, said I to myself, that gallops\nexcellently. The dust on the trees in a narrow road that was but seven\nfeet wide, was a little brushed off, at the distance of three feet and\na half from the middle of the road. This horse, said I, has a tail\nthree feet and a half long, which, being whisked to the right and left,\nhas swept away the dust. I observed under the trees that formed an arbor\nfive feet in height, that the leaves of the branches were newly fallen,\nfrom whence I inferred that the horse had touched them, and that he must\ntherefore be five feet high. As to his bit, it must be gold of\ntwenty-three carats, for he had rubbed its bosses against a stone which\nI knew to be a touchstone, and which I have tried. In a word, from a\nmark made by his shoes on flints of another kind, I concluded that he\nwas shod with silver eleven deniers fine.\"\n\nAll the judges admired Zadig for his acute and profound discernment. The\nnews of this speech was carried even to the king and queen. Nothing was\ntalked of but Zadig in the anti-chambers, the chambers, and the cabinet;\nand though many of the magi were of opinion that he ought to be burnt as\na sorcerer, the king ordered his officers to restore him the four\nhundred ounces of gold which he had been obliged to pay. The register,\nthe attorneys, and bailiffs, went to his house with great formality to\ncarry him back his four hundred ounces. They only retained three hundred\nand ninety-eight of them to defray the expenses of justice; and then\ntheir servants demanded their fees.\n\nZadig saw how extremely dangerous it sometimes is to appear too knowing,\nand therefore resolved, that on the next occasion of the like nature he\nwould not tell what he had seen.\n\nSuch an opportunity soon offered. A prisoner of state made his escape\nand passed under the windows of Zadig's house. Zadig was examined and\nmade no answer. But it was proved that he had looked at the prisoner\nfrom this window. For this crime he was condemned to pay five hundred\nounces of gold; and, according to the polite custom of Babylon, he\nthanked his judges for their indulgence.\n\n\"Great God!\" said he to himself, \"what a misfortune it is to walk in a\nwood through which the queen's bitch or the king's horse have passed!\nhow dangerous to look out at a window! and how difficult to be happy in\nthis life!\"\n\n\n\n\nIV.\n\nTHE ENVIOUS MAN.\n\n\nZadig resolved to comfort himself by philosophy and friendship for the\nevils he had suffered from fortune. He had in the suburbs of Babylon a\nhouse elegantly furnished, in which he assembled all the arts and all\nthe pleasures worthy the pursuit of a gentleman. In the morning his\nlibrary was open to the learned. In the evening his table was surrounded\nby good company. But he soon found what very dangerous guests these men\nof letters are. A warm dispute arose on one of Zoroaster's laws, which\nforbids the eating of a griffin.\n\n\"Why,\" said some of them, \"prohibit the eating of a griffin, if there is\nno such animal in nature?\"\n\n\"There must necessarily be such an animal,\" said the others, \"since\nZoroaster forbids us to eat it.\"\n\nZadig would fain have reconciled them by saying:\n\n\"If there are no griffins, we cannot possibly eat them; and thus either\nway we shall obey Zoroaster.\"\n\nA learned man, who had composed thirteen volumes on the properties of\nthe griffin, and was besides the chief theurgite, hasted away to accuse\nZadig before one of the principal magi, named Yebor, the greatest\nblockhead, and therefore the greatest fanatic among the Chaldeans. This\nman would have empaled Zadig to do honor to the sun, and would then have\nrecited the breviary of Zoroaster with greater satisfaction. The friend\nCador (a friend is better than a hundred priests) went to Yebor, and\nsaid to him:\n\n\"Long live the sun and the griffins; beware of punishing Zadig; he is a\nsaint; he has griffins in his inner court, and does not eat them; and\nhis accuser is an heretic, who dares to maintain that rabbits have\ncloven feet, and are not unclean.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Yebor, shaking his bald pate, \"we must empale Zadig for\nhaving thought contemptuously of griffins, and the other party for\nhaving spoken disrespectfully of rabbits.\"\n\nCador hushed up the affair by appealing to a person who had great\ninterest in the college of the magi. Nobody was empaled. This lenity\noccasioned a great murmuring among some of the doctors, who from thence\npredicted the fall of Babylon.\n\n\"Upon what does happiness depend?\" said Zadig; \"I am persecuted by\neverything in the world, even on account of beings that have no\nexistence.\"\n\nHe cursed those men of learning, and resolved for the future to live\nwith none but good company.\n\nHe assembled at his house the most worthy men, and the most beautiful\nladies of Babylon. He gave them delicious suppers, often preceded by\nconcerts of music, and always animated by polite conversation, from\nwhich he knew how to banish that affectation of wit, which is the surest\nmethod of preventing it entirely, and of spoiling the pleasure of the\nmost agreeable society. Neither the choice of his friends, nor that of\nthe dishes, was made by vanity; for in everything he preferred the\nsubstance to the shadow; and by these means he procured that real\nrespect to which he did not aspire.\n\nOpposite to his house lived one Arimazes, a man whose deformed\ncountenance was but a faint picture of his still more deformed mind. His\nheart was a mixture of malice, pride, and envy. Having never been able\nto succeed in any of his undertakings, he revenged himself on all around\nhim, by loading them with the blackest calumnies. Rich as he was, he\nfound it difficult to procure a set of flatterers. The rattling of the\nchariots that entered Zadig's court in the evening, filled him with\nuneasiness; the sound of his praises enraged him still more. He\nsometimes went to Zadig's house, and sat down at table without being\ndesired; where he spoiled all the pleasure of the company, as the\nharpies are said to infect the viands they touch.\n\nIt happened that one day he took it in his head to give an entertainment\nto a lady, who, instead of accepting it, went to sup with Zadig. At\nanother time, as he was talking with Zadig at court, a minister of state\ncame up to them, and invited Zadig to supper, without inviting Arimazes.\nThe most implacable hatred has seldom a more solid foundation. This man,\nwho in Babylon was called the _envious_, resolved to ruin Zadig,\nbecause he was called the _happy_. \"The opportunity of doing mischief\noccurs a hundred times in a day, and that of doing good but once a year,\nas sayeth the wise Zoroaster.\"\n\nThe envious man went to see Zadig, who was walking in his garden with\ntwo friends and a lady, to whom he said many gallant things, without any\nother intention than that of saying them. The conversation turned upon a\nwar which the king had just brought to a happy conclusion against the\nprince of Hircania, his vassal. Zadig, who had signalized his courage in\nthis short war, bestowed great praises on the king, but greater still on\nthe lady. He took out his pocket-book, and wrote four lines extempore,\nwhich he gave to this amiable person to read. His friends begged they\nmight see them; but modesty, or rather a well-regulated self-love, would\nnot allow him to grant their request. He knew that extemporary verses\nare never approved by any but by the person in whose honor they are\nwritten. He therefore tore in two the leaf on which he had written them,\nand threw both the pieces into a thicket of rose bushes where the rest\nof the company sought for them in vain. A slight shower falling soon\nafter, obliged them to return to the house.\n\nThe envious man, who remained in the garden, continued to search, till\nat last he found a piece of the leaf. It had been torn in such a manner,\nthat each half of a line formed a complete sense, and even a verse of a\nshorter measure; but what was still more surprising, these short verses\nwere found to contain the most injurious reflections on the king. They\nran thus:\n\n     To flagrant crimes\n       His crown he owes,\n     To peaceful times\n       The worst of foes.\n\nThe envious man was now happy for the first time in his life. He had it\nin his power to ruin a person of virtue and merit. Killed with this\nfiend-like joy, he found means to convey to the king the satire written\nby the hand of Zadig, who was immediately thrown into prison, together\nwith the lady and Zadig's two friends.\n\nHis trial was soon finished without his being permitted to speak for\nhimself. As he was going to receive his sentence, the envious man threw\nhimself in his way, and told him with a loud voice, that his verses were\ngood for nothing. Zadig did not value himself on being a good poet; but\nit filled him with inexpressible concern to find that he was condemned\nfor high treason; and that the fair lady and his two friends were\nconfined in prison for a crime of which they were not guilty. He was not\nallowed to speak, because his writing spoke for him. Such was the law of\nBabylon. Accordingly he was conducted to the place of execution through\nan immense crowd of spectators, who durst not venture to express their\npity for him, but who carefully examined his countenance to see if he\ndied with a good grace. His relations alone were inconsolable; for they\ncould not succeed to his estate. Three-fourths of his wealth were\nconfiscated into the king's treasury, and the other fourth was given to\nthe envious man.\n\nJust as he was preparing for death, the king's parrot flew from its\ncage, and alighted on a rose bush in Zadig's garden. A peach had been\ndriven thither by the wind from a neighboring tree, and had fallen on a\npiece of the written leaf of the pocket-book to which it stuck. The bird\ncarried off the peach and the paper, and laid them on the king's knee.\nThe king took up the paper with great eagerness, and read the words,\nwhich formed no sense, and seemed to be the endings of verses. He loved\npoetry; and there is always some mercy to be expected from a prince of\nthat disposition. The adventure of the parrot caused him to reflect.\n\nThe queen, who remembered what had been written on the piece of Zadig's\npocket-book, ordered it to be brought. They compared the two pieces\ntogether, and found them to tally exactly. They then read the verses as\nZadig had written them.\n\n     Tyrants are prone to flagrant crimes;\n       To clemency his crown he owes;\n     To concord and to peaceful times\n       Love only is the worst of foes.\n\nThe king gave immediate orders that Zadig should be brought before him,\nand that his two friends and the lady should be set at liberty. Zadig\nfell prostrate on the ground before the king and queen, humbly begged\ntheir pardon for having made such bad verses, and spoke with so much\npropriety, wit, and good sense, that their majesties desired they might\nsee him again. He did himself that honor, and insinuated himself still\nfarther into their good graces. They gave him all the wealth of the\nenvious man; but Zadig restored him back the whole of it; and this\ninstance of generosity gave no other pleasure to the envious man than\nthat of having preserved his estate. The king's esteem for Zadig\nincreased every day. He admitted him into all his parties of pleasure,\nand consulted him in all affairs of state. From that time the queen\nbegan to regard him with an eye of tenderness, that might one day prove\ndangerous to herself, to the king her august consort, to Zadig, and to\nthe kingdom in general. Zadig now began to think that happiness was not\nso unattainable as he had formerly imagined.\n\n\n\n\nV.\n\nTHE GENEROUS.\n\n\nThe time had now arrived for celebrating a grand festival, which\nreturned every five years. It was a custom in Babylon solemnly to\ndeclare, at the end of every five years, which of the citizens had\nperformed the most generous action. The grandees and the magi were the\njudges. The first satrap, who was charged with the government of the\ncity, published the most noble actions that had passed under his\nadministration. The competition was decided by votes; and the king\npronounced the sentence. People came to this solemnity from the\nextremities of the earth. The conqueror received from the monarch's\nhands a golden cup adorned with precious stones, his majesty at the same\ntime making him this compliment: \"Receive this reward of thy generosity,\nand may the gods grant me many subjects like to thee.\"\n\nThis memorable day having come, the king appeared on his throne,\nsurrounded by the grandees, the magi, and the deputies of all the\nnations that came to these games, where glory was acquired not by the\nswiftness of horses, nor by strength of body, but by virtue. The first\nsatrap recited, with an audible voice, such actions as might entitle\nthe authors of them to this invaluable prize. He did not mention the\ngreatness of soul with which Zadig had restored the envious man his\nfortune, because it was not judged to be an action worthy of disputing\nthe prize.\n\nHe first presented a judge, who having made a citizen lose a\nconsiderable cause by a mistake, for which, after all, he was not\naccountable, had given him the whole of his own estate, which was just\nequal to what the other had lost.\n\nHe next produced a young man, who being desperately in love with a lady\nwhom he was going to marry, had yielded her up to his friend, whose\npassion for her had almost brought him to the brink of the grave, and at\nthe same time had given him the lady's fortune.\n\nHe afterwards produced a soldier, who, in the wars of Hircania, had\ngiven a still more noble instance of generosity. A party of the enemy\nhaving seized his mistress, he fought in her defence with great\nintrepidity. At that very instant he was informed that another party, at\nthe distance of a few paces, were carrying off his mother; he therefore\nleft his mistress with tears in his eyes, and flew to the assistance of\nhis mother. At last he returned to the dear object of his love, and\nfound her expiring. He was just going to plunge his sword in his own\nbosom; but his mother remonstrating against such a desperate deed, and\ntelling him that he was the only support of her life, he had the courage\nto endure to live.\n\nThe judges were inclined to give the prize to the soldier. But the king\ntook up the discourse, and said:\n\n\"The action of the soldier, and those of the other two, are doubtless\nvery great, but they have nothing in them surprising. Yesterday, Zadig\nperformed an action that filled me with wonder. I had a few days before\ndisgraced Coreb, my minister and favorite. I complained of him in the\nmost violent and bitter terms; all my courtiers assured me that I was\ntoo gentle, and seemed to vie with each other in speaking ill of Coreb.\nI asked Zadig what he thought of him, and he had the courage to commend\nhim. I have read in our histories of many people who have atoned for an\nerror by the surrender of their fortune; who have resigned a mistress;\nor preferred a mother to the object of their affection, but never\nbefore did I hear of a courtier who spoke favorably of a disgraced\nminister, that labored under the displeasure of his sovereign. I give to\neach of those whose generous actions have been now recited, twenty\nthousand pieces of gold; but the cup I give to Zadig.\"\n\n\"May it please your majesty,\" said Zadig, \"thyself alone deservest the\ncup. Thou hast performed an action of all others the most uncommon and\nmeritorious, since, notwithstanding thy being a powerful king, thou wast\nnot offended at thy slave, when he presumed to oppose thy passion.\"\n\nThe king and Zadig were equally the object of admiration. The judge who\nhad given his estate to his client; the lover who had resigned his\nmistress to his friend, and the soldier, who had preferred the safety of\nhis mother to that of his mistress, received the king's presents, and\nsaw their names enrolled in the catalogue of generous men. Zadig had the\ncup, and the king acquired the reputation of a good prince, which he did\nnot long enjoy. The day was celebrated by feasts that lasted longer than\nthe law enjoined; and the memory of it is still preserved in Asia. Zadig\nsaid: \"Now I am happy at last.\" But he found himself fatally deceived.\n\n\n\n\nVI.\n\nTHE MINISTER.\n\n\nThe king had lost his first minister, and chose Zadig to supply his\nplace. All the ladies in Babylon applauded the choice; for, since the\nfoundation of the empire, there had never been such a young minister.\nBut all the courtiers were filled with jealousy and vexation. The\nenvious man, in particular, was troubled with a spitting of blood, and a\nprodigious inflammation in his nose. Zadig, having thanked the king and\nqueen for their goodness, went likewise to thank the parrot.\n\n\"Beautiful bird,\" said he, \"tis thou that hast saved my life, and made\nme first minister. The queen's bitch and the king's horse did me a great\ndeal of mischief; but thou hast done me much good. Upon such slender\nthreads as these do the fates of mortals hang! but,\" added he, \"this\nhappiness perhaps will vanish very soon.\"\n\n[Illustration: The cup.--\"May it please your majesty,\" said Zadig,\n\"thyself alone deservest the cup.\"]\n\n\"Soon,\" replied the parrot.\n\nZadig was somewhat startled at this word. But as he was a good natural\nphilosopher, and did not believe parrots to be prophets, he quickly\nrecovered his spirits, and resolved to execute his duty to the best of\nhis power.\n\nHe made every one feel the sacred authority of the laws, but no one felt\nthe weight of his dignity. He never checked the deliberations of the\ndivan; and every vizier might give his opinion without fear of incurring\nthe minister's displeasure. When he gave judgment, it was not he that\ngave it; it was the law; the rigor of which, however, whenever it was\ntoo severe, he always took care to soften; and when laws were wanting,\nthe equity of his decisions was such as might easily have made them pass\nfor those of Zoroaster.\n\nIt is to him that the nations are indebted for this grand principle, to\nwit, that it is better to run the risk of sparing the guilty than to\ncondemn the innocent. He imagined that laws were made as well to secure\nthe people from the suffering of injuries as to restrain them from the\ncommission of crimes. His chief talent consisted in discovering the\ntruth, which all men seek to obscure. This great talent he put in\npractice from the very beginning of his administration.\n\nA famous merchant of Babylon, who died in the Indies, divided his estate\nequally between his two sons, after having disposed of their sister in\nmarriage, and left a present of thirty thousand pieces of gold to that\nson who should be found to have loved him best. The eldest raised a tomb\nto his memory; the youngest increased his sister's portion, by giving\nher a part of his inheritance. Every one said that the eldest son loved\nhis father best, and the youngest his sister; and that the thirty\nthousand pieces belonged to the eldest.\n\nZadig sent for both of them, the one after the other. To the eldest he\nsaid:\n\n\"Thy father is not dead; but has survived his last illness, and is\nreturning to Babylon.\"\n\n\"God be praised,\" replied the young man; \"but his tomb cost me a\nconsiderable sum.\"\n\nZadig afterwards repeated the same story to the youngest son.\n\n\"God be praised,\" said he; \"I will go and restore to my father all that\nI have; but I could wish that he would leave my sister what I have given\nher.\"\n\n\"Thou shalt restore nothing,\" replied Zadig, \"and thou shalt have the\nthirty thousand pieces, for thou art the son who loves his father best.\"\n\nA widow, having a young son, and being possessed of a handsome fortune,\nhad given a promise of marriage to two magi; who were both desirous of\nmarrying her.\n\n\"I will take for my husband,\" said she, \"the man who can give the best\neducation to my beloved son.\"\n\nThe two magi contended who should bring him up, and the cause was\ncarried before Zadig. Zadig summoned the two magi to attend him.\n\n\"What will you teach your pupil?\" said he to the first.\n\n\"I will teach him,\" said the doctor, \"the eight parts of speech, logic,\nastrology, pneumatics, what is meant by substance and accident, abstract\nand concrete, the doctrine of the monades, and the pre-established\nharmony.\"\n\n\"For my part,\" said the second, \"I will endeavor to give him a sense of\njustice, and to make him worthy the friendship of good men.\"\n\nZadig then cried:\n\n\"Whether thou art the child's favorite or not, thou shalt have his\nmother.\"\n\n\n\n\nVII.\n\nTHE DISPUTES AND THE AUDIENCES.\n\n\nIn this manner he daily discovered the subtlety of his genius and the\ngoodness of his heart. The people at once admired and loved him. He\npassed for the happiest man in the world. The whole empire resounded\nwith his name. All the ladies ogled him. All the men praised him for his\njustice. The learned regarded him as an oracle; and even the priests\nconfessed that he knew more than the old arch-magi Yebor. They were now\nso far from prosecuting him on account of the griffins, that they\nbelieved nothing but what he thought credible.\n\nThere had continued at Babylon, for the space of fifteen hundred years,\na violent contest that had divided the empire into two sects. The one\npretended that they ought to enter the temple of Mithra with the left\nfoot foremost; the other held this custom in detestation, and always\nentered with the right foot first. The people waited with great\nimpatience for the day on which the solemn feast of the sacred fire was\nto be celebrated, to see which sect Zadig would favor. All the world had\ntheir eyes fixed on his two feet, and the whole city was in the utmost\nsuspense and perturbation. Zadig jumped into the temple with his feet\njoined together; and afterward proved, in an eloquent discourse, that\nthe Sovereign of heaven and earth, who accepteth not the persons of men,\nmaketh no distinction between the right and the left foot. The envious\nman and his wife alleged that his discourse was not figurative enough,\nand that he did not make the rocks and mountains dance with sufficient\nagility.\n\n\"He is dry,\" said they, \"and void of genius. He does not make the sea to\nfly, and stars to fall, nor the sun to melt like wax. He has not the\ntrue oriental style.\"\n\nZadig contented himself with having the style of reason. All the world\nfavored him, not because he was in the right road, or followed the\ndictates of reason, or was a man of real merit, but because he was prime\nvizier.\n\nHe terminated with the same happy address the grand dispute between the\nblack and the white magi. The former maintained that it was the height\nof impiety to pray to God with the face turned toward the east in\nwinter; the latter asserted that God abhorred the prayers of those who\nturned toward the west in summer. Zadig decreed that every man should be\nallowed to turn as he pleased.\n\nThus he found out the happy secret of finishing all affairs, whether of\na private or a public nature, in the morning. The rest of the day he\nemployed in superintending and promoting the embellishments of Babylon.\nHe exhibited tragedies that drew tears from the eyes of the spectators,\nand comedies that shook their sides with laughter,--a custom which had\nlong been disused, and which his good taste now induced him to revive.\nHe never affected to be more knowing in the polite arts than the artists\nthemselves. He encouraged them by rewards and honors, and was never\njealous of their talents. In the evening the king was highly entertained\nwith his conversation, and the queen still more.\n\n\"Great minister!\" said the king.\n\n\"Amiable minister!\" said the queen; and both of them added, \"It would\nhave been a great loss to the state had such a man been hanged.\"\n\nMeanwhile Zadig perceived that his thoughts were always distracted, as\nwell when he gave audience as when he sat in judgment. He did not know\nto what to attribute this absence of mind, and that was his only sorrow.\n\nHe had a dream, in which he imagined that he laid himself down upon a\nheap of dry herbs, among which there were many prickly ones that gave\nhim great uneasiness, and that he afterward reposed himself on a soft\nbed of roses, from which there sprung a serpent that wounded him to the\nheart with its sharp venomed fangs. \"Alas,\" said he, \"I have long lain\non these dry and prickly herbs, I am now on the bed of roses; but what\nshall be the serpent?\"\n\n\n\n\nVIII.\n\nJEALOUSY.\n\n\nZadig's calamities sprung even from his happiness, and especially from\nhis merit. He every day conversed with the king and his august consort.\nThe charms of Zadig's conversation were greatly heightened by that\ndesire of pleasing which is to the mind what dress is to beauty. His\nyouth and graceful appearance insensibly made an impression on Astarte,\nwhich she did not at first perceive. Her passion grew and flourished in\nthe bosom of innocence. Without fear or scruple, she indulged the\npleasing satisfaction of seeing and hearing a man who was so dear to her\nhusband, and to the empire in general. She was continually praising him\nto the king. She talked of him to her women, who were always sure to\nimprove on her praises. And thus everything contributed to pierce her\nheart with a dart, of which she did not seem to be sensible. She made\nseveral presents to Zadig, which discovered a greater spirit of\ngallantry than she imagined. She intended to speak to him only as a\nqueen satisfied with his services; and her expressions were sometimes\nthose of a woman in love.\n\nAstarte was much more beautiful than that Semira who had such a strong\naversion to one-eyed men, or that other woman who had resolved to cut\noff her husband's nose. Her unreserved familiarity, her tender\nexpressions, at which she began to blush; and her eyes, which, though\nshe endeavored to divert them to other objects, were always fixed upon\nhis, inspired Zadig with a passion that filled him with astonishment. He\nstruggled hard to get the better of it. He called to his aid the\nprecepts of philosophy, which had always stood him in stead; but from\nthence, though he could derive the light of knowledge, he could procure\nno remedy to cure the disorders of his love-sick heart. Duty, gratitude,\nand violated majesty, presented themselves to his mind, as so many\navenging gods. He struggled, he conquered. But this victory, which he\nwas obliged to purchase afresh every moment, cost him many sighs and\ntears. He no longer dared to speak to the queen with that sweet and\ncharming familiarity which had been so agreeable to them both. His\ncountenance was covered with a cloud. His conversation was constrained\nand incoherent. His eyes were fixed on the ground; and when, in spite of\nall his endeavors to the contrary, they encountered those of the queen,\nthey found them bathed in tears, and darting arrows of flame. They\nseemed to say, We adore each other, and yet are afraid to love; we are\nconsumed with a passion which we both condemn.\n\nZadig left the royal presence full of perplexity and despair, and having\nhis heart oppressed with a burden which he was no longer able to bear.\nIn the violence of his perturbation he involuntarily betrayed the secret\nto his friend Cador, in the same manner as a man, who, having long\nendured a cruel disease, discovers his pain by a cry extorted from him\nby a more severe attack, and by the cold sweat that covers his brow.\n\n\"I have already discovered,\" said Cador, \"the sentiments which thou\nwouldst fain conceal from thyself. The symptoms by which the passions\nshow themselves are certain and infallible. Judge, my dear Zadig, since\nI have read thy heart, whether the king will not discover something in\nit that may give him offence. He has no other fault but that of being\nthe most jealous man in the world. Thou canst resist the violence of thy\npassion with greater fortitude than the queen, because thou art a\nphilosopher, and because thou art Zadig. Astarte is a woman. She suffers\nher eyes to speak with so much the more imprudence, as she does not as\nyet think herself guilty. Conscious of her own innocence, she unhappily\nneglects those external appearances which are so necessary. I shall\ntremble for her so long as she has nothing wherewithal to reproach\nherself. A growing passion which we endeavor to suppress, discovers\nitself in spite of all our efforts to the contrary.\"\n\nMeanwhile, the queen mentioned the name of Zadig so frequently, and with\nsuch a blushing and downcast look. She was sometimes so lively, and\nsometimes so perplexed, when she spoke to him in the king's presence,\nand was seized with such a deep thoughtfulness at his going away, that\nthe king began to be troubled. He believed all that he saw, and imagined\nall that he did not see. He particularly remarked, that his wife's shoes\nwere blue, and that Zadig's shoes were blue; that his wife's ribbons\nwere yellow, and that Zadig's bonnet was yellow, and these were terrible\nsymptoms to a prince of so much delicacy. In his jealous mind suspicion\nwas turned into certainty.\n\nAll the slaves of kings and queens are so many spies over their hearts.\nThey soon observed that Astarte was tender, and that Moabdar was\njealous. The envious man persuaded his wife to send anonymously to the\nking her garter, which resembled those of the queen; and to complete the\nmisfortune, this garter was blue. The monarch now thought of nothing but\nin what manner he might best execute his vengeance. He one night\nresolved to poison the queen, and in the morning to put Zadig to death\nby the bowstring. The orders were given to a merciless eunuch, who\ncommonly executed his acts of vengeance.\n\nThere happened at that time to be in the king's chamber a little dwarf,\nwho, though dumb, was not deaf. He was allowed, on account of his\ninsignificance, to go wherever he pleased; and, as a domestic animal,\nwas a witness of what passed in the most profound secrecy.\n\nThis little mute was strongly attached to the queen and Zadig. With\nequal horror and surprise, he heard the cruel orders given; but how\ncould he prevent the fatal sentence that in a few hours was to be\ncarried into execution? He could not write, but he could paint; and\nexcelled particularly in drawing a striking resemblance. He employed a\npart of the night in sketching out with his pencil what he meant to\nimpart to the queen. The piece represented the king in one corner,\nboiling with rage, and giving orders to the eunuch; a blue bowstring,\nand a bowl on a table, with blue garters and yellow ribbons; the queen\nin the middle of the picture, expiring in the arms of her woman, and\nZadig strangled at her feet. The horizon represented a rising sun, to\nexpress that this shocking execution was to be performed in the morning.\nAs soon as he had finished the picture, he ran to one of Astarte's\nwomen, awoke her, and made her understand that she must immediately\ncarry it to the queen.\n\nAt midnight a messenger knocks at Zadig's door, awakes him, and gives\nhim a note from the queen. He doubts whether it is not a dream; and\nopens the letter with a trembling hand. But how great was his surprise,\nand who can express the consternation and despair into which he was\nthrown upon reading these words? \"Fly, this instant, or thou art a dead\nman! Fly, Zadig, I conjure thee by our mutual love and my yellow\nribbons. I have not been guilty, but I find that I must die like a\ncriminal.\"\n\nZadig was hardly able to speak. He sent for Cador, and, without uttering\na word, gave him the note. Cador forced him to obey, and forthwith to\ntake the road to Memphis.\n\n\"Shouldst thou dare,\" said he, \"to go in search of the queen, thou wilt\nhasten her death. Shouldst thou speak to the king, thou wilt infallibly\nruin her. I will take upon me the charge of her destiny; follow thy own.\nI will spread a report that thou hast taken the road to India. I will\nsoon follow thee, and inform thee of all that shall have passed in\nBabylon.\"\n\nAt that instant, Cador caused two of the swiftest dromedaries to be\nbrought to a private gate of the palace. Upon one of these he mounted\nZadig, whom he was obliged to carry to the door, and who was ready to\nexpire with grief. He was accompanied by a single domestic, and Cador,\nplunged in sorrow and astonishment, soon lost sight of his friend.\n\nThis illustrious fugitive arriving on the side of a hill, from whence he\ncould take a view of Babylon, turned his eyes toward the queen's palace,\nand fainted away at the sight; nor did he recover his senses but to shed\na torrent of tears, and to wish for death. At length, after his thoughts\nhad been long engrossed in lamenting the unhappy fate of the loveliest\nwoman and the greatest queen in the world, he for a moment turned his\nviews on himself, and cried:\n\n\"What then is human life? O virtue, how hast thou served me? Two women\nhave basely deceived me; and now a third, who is innocent, and more\nbeautiful than both the others, is going to be put to death! Whatever\ngood I have done hath been to me a continual source of calamity and\naffliction; and I have only been raised to the height of grandeur, to be\ntumbled down the most horrid precipice of misfortune.\"\n\nFilled with these gloomy reflections, his eyes overspread with the veil\nof grief, his countenance covered with the paleness of death, and his\nsoul plunged in an abyss of the blackest despair, he continued his\njourney toward Egypt.\n\n\n\n\nIX.\n\nTHE WOMAN BEATER.\n\n\nZadig directed his course by the stars. The constellation of Orion, and\nthe splendid Dogstars, guided his steps toward the pole of Canop\u00e6a. He\nadmired those vast globes of light which appear to our eyes as so many\nlittle sparks, while the earth, which in reality is only an\nimperceptible point in nature, appears to our fond imaginations as\nsomething so grand and noble. He then represented to himself the human\nspecies, as it really is, as a parcel of insects devouring one another\non a little atom of clay. This true image seemed to annihilate his\nmisfortunes, by making him sensible of the nothingness of his own being,\nand that of Babylon. His soul launched out into infinity, and detached\nfrom the senses, contemplated the immutable order of the universe. But\nwhen afterward, returning to himself, and entering into his own heart,\nhe considered that Astarte had perhaps died for him, the universe\nvanished from his sight, and he beheld nothing in the whole compass of\nnature but Astarte expiring, and Zadig unhappy.\n\nWhile he thus alternately gave up his mind to this flux and reflux of\nsublime philosophy and intolerable grief, he advanced toward the\nfrontiers of Egypt; and his faithful domestic was already in the first\nvillage, in search of a lodging.\n\nMeanwhile, as Zadig was walking toward the gardens that skirted the\nvillage, he saw, at a small distance from the highway, a woman bathed in\ntears and calling heaven and earth to her assistance, and a man in a\nfurious passion pursuing her.\n\nThis madman had already overtaken the woman, who embraced his knees,\nnotwithstanding which he loaded her with blows and reproaches. Zadig\njudged by the frantic behavior of the Egyptian, and by the repeated\npardons which the lady asked him, that the one was jealous, and the\nother unfaithful. But when he surveyed the woman more narrowly, and\nfound her to be a lady of exquisite beauty, and even to have a strong\nresemblance to the unhappy Astarte, he felt himself inspired with\ncompassion for her, and horror toward the Egyptian.\n\n\"Assist me,\" cried she to Zadig, with the deepest sighs, \"deliver me\nfrom the hands of the most barbarous man in the world. Save my life.\"\n\nMoved by these pitiful cries, Zadig ran and threw himself between her\nand the barbarian. As he had some knowledge of the Egyptian language, he\naddressed him in that tongue.\n\n\"If,\" said he, \"thou hast any humanity, I conjure thee to pay some\nregard to her beauty and weakness. How canst thou behave in this\noutrageous manner to one of the masterpieces of nature, who lies at thy\nfeet, and hath no defence but her tears?\"\n\n\"Ah, ah!\" replied the madman, \"thou art likewise in love with her. I\nmust be revenged on thee too.\"\n\nSo saying, he left the lady, whom he had hitherto held with his hand\ntwisted in her hair, and taking his lance attempted to stab the\nstranger. Zadig, who was in cold blood, easily eluded the blow aimed by\nthe frantic Egyptian. He seized the lance near the iron with which it\nwas armed. The Egyptian strove to draw it back; Zadig to wrest it from\nthe Egyptian; and in the struggle it was broken in two. The Egyptian\ndraws his sword; Zadig does the same. They attack each other. The former\ngives a hundred blows at random; the latter wards them off with great\ndexterity. The lady, seated on a turf, re-adjusts her head-dress, and\nlooks at the combatants. The Egyptian excelled in strength: Zadig in\naddress. The one fought like a man whose arm was directed by his\njudgment; the other like a madman, whose blind rage made him deal his\nblows at random. Zadig closes with him, and disarms him; and while the\nEgyptian, now become more furious, endeavors to throw himself upon him,\nhe seizes him, presses him close, and throws him down; and then holding\nhis sword to his breast, offers him his life. The Egyptian, frantic with\nrage, draws his poniard, and wounds Zadig at the very instant that the\nconqueror was granting a pardon. Zadig, provoked at such brutal\nbehavior, plunged his sword in the bosom of the Egyptian, who giving a\nhorrible shriek and a violent struggle, instantly expired. Zadig then\napproached the lady, and said to her with a gentle tone:\n\n\"He hath forced me to kill him. I have avenged thy cause. Thou art now\ndelivered from the most violent man I ever saw. What further, madam,\nwouldest thou have me do for thee?\n\n\"Die, villain,\" replied she, \"thou hast killed my lover. O that I were\nable to tear out thy heart!\"\n\n\"Why truly, madam,\" said Zadig, \"thou hadst a strange kind of a man for\na lover; he beat thee with all his might, and would have killed thee,\nbecause thou hadst entreated me to give thee assistance.\"\n\n\"I wish he were beating me still,\" replied the lady with tears and\nlamentation. \"I well deserved it; for I had given him cause to be\njealous. Would to heaven that he was now beating me, and that thou wast\nin his place.\"\n\nZadig, struck with surprise, and inflamed with a higher degree of\nresentment than he had ever felt before, said:\n\n\"Beautiful as thou art, madam, thou deservest that I should beat thee in\nmy turn for thy perverse and impertinent behavior. But I shall not give\nmyself the trouble.\"\n\nSo saying, he remounted his camel, and advanced toward the town. He had\nproceeded but a few steps, when he turned back at the noise of four\nBabylonian couriers, who came riding at full gallop. One of them, upon\nseeing the woman, cried:\n\n\"It is the very same. She resembles the description that was given us.\"\n\nThey gave themselves no concern about the dead Egyptian, but instantly\nseized the lady. She called out to Zadig:\n\n\"Help me once more, generous stranger. I ask pardon for having\ncomplained of thy conduct. Deliver me again, and I will be thine for\never.\"\n\nZadig was no longer in the humor of fighting for her.\n\n\"Apply to another,\" said he, \"thou shalt not again ensnare me in thy\nwiles.\"\n\nBesides, he was wounded; his blood was still flowing, and he himself had\nneed of assistance: and the sight of four Babylonians, probably sent by\nKing Moabdar, filled him with apprehension. He therefore hastened toward\nthe village, unable to comprehend why four Babylonian couriers should\ncome and seize this Egyptian woman, but still more astonished at the\nlady's behavior.\n\n\n\n\nX.\n\nSLAVERY.\n\n\nAs he entered the Egyptian village, he saw himself surrounded by the\npeople. Every one said:\n\n\"This is the man who carried off the beautiful Missouf, and assassinated\nClitofis.\"\n\n\"Gentleman,\" said he, \"God preserve me from carrying off your beautiful\nMissouf. She is too capricious for me. And with regard to Clitofis, I\ndid not assassinate him, I only fought with him in my own defence. He\nendeavored to kill me, because I humbly interceded for the beautiful\nMissouf, whom he beat most unmercifully. I am a stranger, come to seek\nrefuge in Egypt; and it is not likely, that in coming to implore your\nprotection, I should begin by carrying off a woman, and assassinating a\nman.\"\n\nThe Egyptians were then just and humane. The people conducted Zadig to\nthe town-house. They first of all ordered his wound to be dressed, and\nthen examined him and his servant apart, in order to discover the truth.\nThey found that Zadig was not an assassin; but as he was guilty of\nhaving killed a man, the law condemned him to be a slave. His two camels\nwere sold for the benefit of the town: all the gold he had brought with\nhim was distributed among the inhabitants; and his person, as well as\nthat of the companion of his journey, was exposed for sale in the\nmarket-place. An Arabian merchant, named Setoc, made the purchase; but\nas the servant was fitter for labor than the master, he was sold at a\nhigher price. There was no comparison between the two men. Thus Zadig\nbecame a slave subordinate to his own servant. They were linked together\nby a chain fastened to their feet, and in this condition they followed\nthe Arabian merchant to his house.\n\nBy the way Zadig comforted his servant, and exhorted him to patience;\nbut he could not help making, according to his usual custom, some\nreflections on human life. \"I see,\" said he, \"that the unhappiness of my\nfate hath an influence on thine. Hitherto everything has turned out to\nme in a most unaccountable manner. I have been condemned to pay a fine\nfor having seen the marks of a bitch's feet. I thought that I should\nonce have been empaled alive on account of a griffin. I have been sent\nto execution for having made some verses in praise of the king. I have\nbeen on the point of being strangled, because the queen had yellow\nribbons; and now I am a slave with thee, because a brutal wretch beat\nhis mistress. Come, let us keep a good heart; all this will perhaps have\nan end. The Arabian merchants must necessarily have slaves; and why not\nme as well as another, since, as well as another, I am a man? This\nmerchant will not be cruel. He must treat his slaves well if he expects\nany advantage from them.\"\n\nBut while he spoke thus, his heart was entirely engrossed by the fate of\nthe queen of Babylon.\n\nTwo days after, the merchant Setoc set out for Arabia Deserta, with his\nslaves and his camels. His tribe dwelt near the desert of Oreb. The\njourney was long and painful. Setoc set a much greater value on the\nservant than the master, because the former was more expert in loading\nthe camels, and all the little marks of distinction were shown to him. A\ncamel having died within two days journey of Oreb, his burden was\ndivided and laid on the backs of the servants; and Zadig had his share\namong the rest. Setoc laughed to see all his slaves walking with their\nbodies inclined. Zadig took the liberty to explain to him the cause, and\ninform him of the laws of the balance. The merchant was astonished, and\nbegan to regard him with other eyes. Zadig, finding he had raised his\ncuriosity, increased it still further by acquainting him with many\nthings that related to commerce; the specific gravity of metals and\ncommodities under an equal bulk; the properties of several useful\nanimals; and the means of rendering those useful that are not naturally\nso.\n\nAt last Setoc began to consider Zadig as a sage, and preferred him to\nhis companion, whom he had formerly so much esteemed. He treated him\nwell, and had no cause to repent of his kindness.\n\nAs soon as Setoc arrived among his own tribe he demanded the payment of\nfive hundred ounces of silver, which he had lent to a Jew in presence of\ntwo witnesses; but as the witnesses were dead, and the debt could not be\nproved, the Hebrew appropriated the merchant's money to himself, and\npiously thanked God for putting it in his power to cheat an Arabian.\nSetoc imparted this troublesome affair to Zadig, who had now become his\ncounsel.\n\n\"In what place,\" said Zadig, \"didst thou lend the five hundred ounces to\nthis infidel?\"\n\n\"Upon a large stone,\" replied the merchant, \"that lies near the mountain\nof Oreb.\"\n\n\"What is the character of thy debter?\" said Zadig.\n\n\"That of a knave,\" returned Setoc.\n\n\"But I ask thee, whether he is lively or phlegmatic; cautious or\nimprudent?\"\n\n\"He is, of all bad payers,\" said Setoc, \"the most lively fellow I ever\nknew.\"\n\n\"Well,\" resumed Zadig, \"allow me to plead thy cause.\"\n\nIn effect, Zadig having summoned the Jew to the tribunal, addressed the\njudge in the following terms:\n\n\"Pillow of the throne of equity, I come to demand of this man, in the\nname of my master, five hundred ounces of silver, which he refuses to\nrepay.\"\n\n\"Hast thou any witnesses?\" said the judge.\n\n\"No, they are dead; but there remains a large stone upon which the money\nwas counted; and if it please thy grandeur to order the stone to be\nsought for, I hope that it will bear witness. The Hebrew and I will\ntarry here till the stone arrives. I will send for it at my master's\nexpense.\"\n\n\"With all my heart,\" replied the judge, and immediately applied himself\nto the discussion of other affairs.\n\nWhen the court was going to break up, the judge said to Zadig:\n\n\"Well, friend, hath not thy stone yet arrived?\"\n\nThe Hebrew replied with a smile:\n\n\"Thy grandeur may stay here till to-morrow, and after all not see the\nstone. It is more than six miles from hence and it would require fifteen\nmen to move it.\"\n\n\"Well,\" cried Zadig, \"did I not say that the stone would bear witness?\nSince this man knows where it is, he thereby confesses that it was upon\nit that the money was counted.\"\n\nThe Hebrew was disconcerted, and was soon after obliged to confess the\ntruth. The judge ordered him to be fastened to the stone, without meat\nor drink, till he should restore the five hundred ounces, which were\nsoon after paid.\n\nThe slave Zadig and the stone were held in great repute in Arabia.\n\n[Illustration: Egyptian archer.]\n\n\n\n\nXI.\n\nTHE FUNERAL PILE.\n\n\nSetoc, charmed with the happy issue of this affair, made his slave his\nintimate friend. He had now conceived as great an esteem for him as ever\nthe king of Babylon had done; and Zadig was glad that Setoc had no wife.\nHe discovered in his master a good natural disposition, much probity of\nheart, and a great share of good sense; but he was sorry to see that,\naccording to the ancient custom of Arabia, he adored the host of heaven;\nthat is, the sun, moon, and stars. He sometimes spoke to him on this\nsubject with great prudence and discretion. At last he told him that\nthese bodies were like all other bodies in the universe, and no more\ndeserving of our homage than a tree or a rock.\n\n\"But,\" said Setoc, \"they are eternal beings; and it is from them we\nderive all we enjoy. They animate nature; they regulate the seasons;\nand, besides, are removed at such an immense distance from us, that we\ncannot help revering them.\"\n\n\"Thou receivest more advantage,\" replied Zadig, \"from the waters of the\nRed Sea, which carry thy merchandize to the Indies. Why may not it be as\nancient as the stars? and if thou adorest what is placed at a distance\nfrom thee, thou shouldest adore the land of the Gangarides, which lies\nat the extremity of the earth.\"\n\n\"No,\" said Setoc, \"the brightness of the stars commands my adoration.\"\n\nAt night Zadig lighted up a great number of candles in the tent where he\nwas to sup with Setoc; and the moment his patron appeared, he fell on\nhis knees before these lighted tapers, and said:\n\n\"Eternal and shining luminaries! be ye always propitious to me.\"\n\nHaving thus said, he sat down at the table, without taking the least\nnotice of Setoc.\n\n\"What art thou doing?\" said Setoc in amaze[TR: amazement?].\n\n\"I act like thee,\" replied Zadig, \"I adore these candles, and neglect\ntheir master and mine.\"\n\nSetoc comprehended the profound sense of this apologue. The wisdom of\nhis slave sunk deep into his soul. He no longer offered incense to the\ncreatures, but he adored the eternal Being who made them.\n\nThere prevailed at that time in Arabia a shocking custom, sprung\noriginally from Scythia, and which, being established in the Indies by\nthe credit of the Brahmins, threatened to over-run all the East. When a\nmarried man died, and his beloved wife aspired to the character of a\nsaint, she burned herself publicly on the body of her husband. This was\na solemn feast, and was called the Funeral Pile of Widowhood; and that\ntribe in which most women had been burned was the most respected. An\nArabian of Setoc's tribe being dead, his widow, whose name was Almona,\nand who was very devout, published the day and hour when she intended to\nthrow herself into the fire, amidst the sound of drums and trumpets.\n\nZadig remonstrated against this horrible custom. He showed Setoc how\ninconsistent it was with the happiness of mankind to suffer young widows\nto burn themselves--widows who were capable of giving children to the\nstate, or at least of educating those they already had; and he convinced\nhim that it was his duty to do all that lay in his power to abolish such\na barbarous practice.\n\n\"The women,\" said Setoc, \"have possessed the right of burning themselves\nfor more than a thousand years; and who shall dare to abrogate a law\nwhich time hath rendered sacred? Is there anything more respectable than\nancient abuses?\"\n\n\"Reason is more ancient,\" replied Zadig: \"meanwhile, speak thou to the\nchiefs of the tribes, and I will go to wait on the young widow.\"\n\nAccordingly, he was introduced to her, and after having insinuated\nhimself into her good graces by some compliments on her beauty, and told\nher what a pity it was to commit so many charms to the flames, he at\nlast praised her for her constancy and courage.\n\n\"Thou must surely have loved thy husband,\" said he to her, \"with the\nmost passionate fondness.\"\n\n\"Who, I?\" replied the lady, \"I loved him not at all. He was a brutal,\njealous, and insupportable wretch; but I am firmly resolved to throw\nmyself on his funeral pile.\"\n\n[Illustration: The funeral pyre.--\"The women,\" said Setoc, \"have\npossessed the right of burning themselves for more than a thousand\nyears; and who shall dare to abrogate a law which time hath rendered\nsacred? Is there anything more respectable than ancient abuses?\"]\n\n\"It would appear then,\" said Zadig, \"that there must be a very delicious\npleasure in being burnt alive.\"\n\n\"Oh! it makes me shudder,\" replied the lady, \"but that must be\noverlooked. I am a devotee; I should lose my reputation; and all the\nworld would despise me, if I did not burn myself.\"\n\nZadig having made her acknowledge that she burned herself to gain the\ngood opinion of others, and to gratify her own vanity, entertained her\nwith a long discourse calculated to make her a little in love with life,\nand even went so far as to inspire her with some degree of good will for\nthe person who spoke to her.\n\n\"And what wilt thou do at last,\" said he, \"if the vanity of burning\nthyself should not continue?\"\n\n\"Alas!\" said the lady, \"I believe I should desire thee to marry me.\"\n\nZadig's mind was too much engrossed with the idea of Astarte not to\nelude this declaration; but he instantly went to the chiefs of the\ntribes, told them what had passed, and advised them to make a law by\nwhich a widow should not be permitted to burn herself, till she had\nconversed privately with a young man for the space of an hour. Since\nthat time not a single widow hath burned herself in Arabia. They were\nindebted to Zadig alone for destroying in one day a cruel custom that\nhad lasted for so many ages; and thus he became the benefactor of\nArabia.\n\n\n\n\nXII.\n\nTHE SUPPER.\n\n\nSetoc, who could not separate himself from this man in whom dwelt\nwisdom, carried Zadig to the great fair of Balzora, whither the richest\nmerchants of the earth resorted. Zadig was highly pleased to see so many\nmen of different countries united in the same place. He considered the\nwhole universe as one large family assembled at Balzora. The second day\nhe sat at table with an Egyptian, an Indian, an inhabitant of Cathay, a\nGreek, a Celtic, and several other strangers, who, in their frequent\nvoyages to the Arabian Gulf, had learned enough of the Arabic to make\nthemselves understood.\n\nThe Egyptian seemed to be in a violent passion. \"What an abominable\ncountry,\" said he, \"is Balzora! They refuse me a thousand ounces of gold\non the best security in the world.\"\n\n\"How!\" said Setoc. \"On what security have they refused thee this sum?\"\n\n\"On the body of my aunt,\" replied the Egyptian. \"She was the most\nnotable woman in Egypt; she always accompanied me in my journeys; she\ndied on the road. I have converted her into one of the nest mummies in\nthe world; and in my own country I could obtain any amount by giving her\nas a pledge. It is very strange that they will not here lend me a\nthousand ounces of gold on such a solid security.\"\n\nAngry as he was, he was going to help himself to a bit of excellent\nboiled fowl, when the Indian, taking him by the hand, cried out in a\nsorrowful tone, \"Ah! what art thou going to do?\"\n\n\"To eat a bit of this fowl,\" replied the man who owned the mummy.\n\n\"Take care that thou dost not,\" replied the Indian. \"It is possible that\nthe soul of the deceased may have passed into this fowl; and thou\nwouldst not, surely, expose thyself to the danger of eating thy aunt? To\nboil fowls is a manifest outrage on nature.\"\n\n\"What dost thou mean by thy nature and thy fowls?\" replied the choleric\nEgyptian. \"We adore a bull, and yet we eat heartily of beef.\"\n\n\"You adore a bull! is it possible?\" said the Indian.\n\n\"Nothing is more possible,\" returned the other; \"we have done so for\nthese hundred and thirty-five thousand years; and nobody amongst us has\never found fault with it.\"\n\n\"A hundred and thirty-five thousand years!\" said the Indian. \"This\naccount is a little exaggerated. It is but eighty thousand years since\nIndia was first peopled, and we are surely more ancient than you are.\nBrahma prohibited our eating of ox-flesh before you thought of putting\nit on your spits or altars.\"\n\n[Illustration: Oannes--the Fish God.--\"Thou art mistaken,\" said a\nChaldean. \"It is to the fish Oannes that we owe these great advantages;\nand it is just that we should render homage to none but him. All the\nworld will tell thee, that he is a divine being, with a golden tail, and\na beautiful human head; and that for three hours every day he left the\nwater to preach on dry land.\"]\n\n\n\n\n     OANNES--THE FISH AVATAR.\n\n     \"The accompanying engraving of the fish-god is from a drawing by\n     Gentil, given in _Calmet's Dictionary_. The god was worshiped under\n     the name of Dagon by the Syrians, and Oannes by the Chaldeans. The\n     image represented the body of a fish with the head and arms of a\n     man; and while all figures of the god are not exactly alike, they\n     all combine a human form with that of a fish.\n\n     \"Owing to the precession of the equinoxes,\" says the Rev. Mr.\n     Maurice in the _Antiquities of India_, \"after the rate of\n     seventy-two years to a degree, a total alteration has taken place\n     through all the signs of the ecliptic, insomuch that those stars\n     which formerly were in Aries have now got into Taurus, and those of\n     Taurus into Gemini. Now the vernal equinox, after the rate of that\n     precession, could not have coincided with the first of May less\n     than 4000 years before Christ.\"\n\n     An Avatar in the form of the celestial _Taurus_ (\u2649) then occurred,\n     and Osiris was worshiped in the form of a bull, by credulous\n     believers. Next in the course of revolving years, we have the\n     celestial _Aries_, (\u2648) and the god then became incarnate in the\n     form of a lamb, and in that form received the adoration of devout\n     multitudes. Later still the Zodiacal sign had progressed to\n     _Pisces_, (\u2653) and mankind were then called upon to worship the\n     astrological emblem of the amphibious being called Oannes--the\n     sacred god of the land and the sea--whose representative on earth\n     still claims to be the _Great Fisherman_, and who has entangled in\n     the meshes of his net of faith the intellects and consciences of\n     innumerable devotees.\n\n     \"In Berosus and other authors,\" says Godfrey Higgins in the\n     _Anacalypsis_, \"the being half man, half fish, called Oannes, is\n     said to have come out of the Erythr\u00e6an Sea, and to have taught the\n     Babylonians all kinds of useful knowledge. This is clearly the fish\n     Avatar of India; whether or not it be the I-oannes of Jonas I leave\n     to the reader. I apprehend it is the same as the Dagon of Pegu and\n     the fish sign of the Zodiac. Very little is known about it, but it\n     exactly answers the description of an Avatar.\n\n     \"The apostles of Jesus, I believe, were most of them fishermen.\n     There are many stories of miraculous draughts of fish, and other\n     matters connected with fishes, in the Gospel histories; and Peter,\n     the son of John, I-oannes or Oannes, the great fisherman, inherited\n     the power of ruling the church from the Lamb of God. The fisherman\n     succeeded to the shepherd. The Pope calls himself the great\n     fisherman, and boasts of the contents of his Poitrine.\n\n     \"In the Pentateuch, which is the sacred book of the Israelites, we\n     meet with no Dagon, Fish or God. But we do meet with it in the book\n     of Judges. I believe this Dagon to be the fish Avatar of India--the\n     Dagon of Syrian in Pegu; in fact the emblem of the entrance of the\n     sun into Pisces.\n\n     \"In the earliest time, perhaps, of which we have any history, God\n     the creator was adored under the form or emblem of a Bull. After\n     that, we read of him under the form of a calf or two calves,\n     afterward in the form of the Ram and the Lamb, and the devotees\n     were called lambs: then came the fish or two fishes. It is a fact,\n     not a theory, that he was called a fish, and that the devotees were\n     called Pisciculi or little fishes. I suppose few persons will\n     attribute these appearances of system to accident. As we have\n     _lambs_ and _little fishes_ in the followers of the Ram, Aries, and\n     the constellation Pisces, it is only in character to have the\n     followers of the Bull called _calves_, and I am by no means certain\n     that we have not them in the Cyclops.\n\n     \"At first, no doubt, my reader will be very much surprised at the\n     idea of the devotees having converted Jesus into the _fish_ Avatar:\n     but why was he called the lamb? And why were his followers called\n     his flock, and his sheep, and his lambs? Not many circumstances are\n     more striking than that of Jesus Christ being originally worshiped\n     under the form of a Lamb--the actual lamb of God which taketh away\n     the sins of the world. It does not appear to me to be more\n     extraordinary that his followers, as it is admitted that they did,\n     should call him a _fish_ and the believers in him pisciculi, than\n     that they should call him a lamb, and his followers lambs. He was\n     originally represented as a lamb until one of the popes changed his\n     effigy to that of a man on a cross. Applying the astronomical\n     emblem of Pisces (\u2653) to Jesus, does not seem more absurd than\n     applying the astronomical emblem of the Lamb (\u2648) They applied to\n     him the monogram of Bacchus, \u0399\u0397\u03a3; the astrological and alchymical\n     mark or sign of Aries, or the Ram (\u2648) and, in short, what was there\n     that was Heathenish that they have not applied to him? They have\n     actually loaded his simple and sublime religion with every\n     absurdity of Gentilism. I know not one absurdity that can be\n     excepted.\"\n\n     In one of the windows of the Magnificent Cathedral of the\n     Incarnation, erected by Mrs. A.T. Stewart, at Garden City, N.Y., is\n     a painting representing the Sea of Tiberias. The \"risen Lord,\"\n     clothed in rich robes of green, scarlet, and gold, is standing on\n     the seashore, with four of the apostles. Prominent among them is\n     the _great fisherman_ St. Peter, who is grasping the end of a\n     seine. In the background is seen the mast and rigging of a fishing\n     boat. At the feet of Christ a fire is burning, and on the coals are\n     _two fishes_, like the two fishes in the Zodiacal sign _Pisces_\n     (\u2653). The artist has thus reproduced the ancient myth, regardless of\n     its astrological origin, and the mythical fishes of the zodiac,\n     with other ancient Pagan emblems, now symbolize Christian faith in\n     the so-called Cathedral of the Incarnation.--E.\n\n\n\n\"This Brahma of yours,\" said the Egyptian, \"is a pleasant sort of an\nanimal, truly, to compare with our Apis. What great things hath your\nBrahma done?\"\n\n\"It was he,\" replied the Brahmin, \"that taught mankind to read and\nwrite, and to whom the world is indebted for the game of chess.\"\n\n\"Thou art mistaken,\" said a Chaldean who sat near him. \"It is to the\nfish Oannes that we owe these great advantages; and it is just that we\nshould render homage to none but him. All the world will tell thee, that\nhe is a divine being, with a golden tail, and a beautiful human head;\nand that for three hours every day he left the water to preach on dry\nland. He had several children, who were kings, as every one knows. I\nhave a picture of him at home, which I worship with becoming reverence.\nWe may eat as much beef as we please; but it is surely a great sin to\ndress fish for the table. Besides, you are both of an origin too recent\nand ignoble to dispute with me. The Egyptians reckon only a hundred and\nthirty-five thousand years, and the Indians but eighty thousand, while\nwe have almanacs of four thousand ages. Believe me; renounce your\nfollies; and I will give to each of you a beautiful picture of Oannes.\"\n\nThe man of Cathay took up the discourse, and said:\n\n\"I have a great respect for the Egyptians, the Chaldeans, the Greeks,\nthe Celtics, Brahma, the bull Apis, and the beautiful fish Oannes; but I\ncould think that Li, or Tien, as he is commonly called, is superior to\nall the bulls on the earth, or all the fish in the sea. I shall say\nnothing of my native country; it is as large as Egypt, Chaldea, and the\nIndies put together. Neither shall I dispute about the antiquity of our\nnation; because it is of little consequence whether we are ancient or\nnot; it is enough if we are happy. But were it necessary to speak of\nalmanacs, I could say that all Asia takes ours, and that we had very\ngood ones before arithmetic was known in Chaldea.\"\n\n\"Ignorant men, as ye all are,\" said the Greek; \"do you not know that\nChaos is the father of all; and that form and matter have put the world\ninto its present condition?\"\n\nThe Greek spoke for a long time, but was at last interrupted by the\nCeltic, who, having drank pretty deeply while the rest were disputing,\nimagined he was now more knowing than all the others, and said, with an\noath, that there were none but Teutat and the mistletoe of the oak that\nwere worth the trouble of a dispute; that, for his own part, he had\nalways some mistletoe in his pocket, and that the Scythians, his\nancestors, were the only men of merit that had ever appeared in the\nworld; that it was true they had sometimes eaten human flesh, but that,\nnotwithstanding this circumstance, his nation deserved to be held in\ngreat esteem; and that, in fine, if any one spoke ill of Teutat, he\nwould teach him better manners.\n\nThe quarrel had now become warm, and Setoc feared the table would be\nstained with blood.\n\nZadig, who had been silent during the whole dispute, arose at last. He\nfirst addressed himself to the Celtic, as the most furious of the\ndisputants. He told him that he had reason on his side, and begged a few\nmistletoes. He then praised the Greek for his eloquence, and softened\nall their exasperated spirits. He said but little to the man of Cathay,\nbecause he had been the most reasonable of them all. At last he said:\n\n\"You were going, my friends, to quarrel about nothing; for you are all\nof one mind.\"\n\nAt this assertion they all cried out in dissent.\n\n\"Is it not true,\" said he to the Celtic, \"that you adore not this\nmistletoe, but him that made both the mistletoe and the oak?\"\n\n\"Most undoubtedly,\" replied the Celtic.\n\n\"And thou, Mr. Egyptian, dost not thou revere, in a certain bull, him\nwho created the bulls?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said the Egyptian.\n\n\"The fish Oannes,\" continued he, \"must yield to him who made the sea and\nthe fishes. The Indian and the Cathaian,\" added he, \"acknowledge a first\nprinciple. I did not fully comprehend the admirable things that were\nsaid by the Greek; but I am sure he will admit a superior being on whom\nform and matter depend.\"\n\nThe Greek, whom they all admired, said that Zadig had exactly taken his\nmeaning.\n\n\"You are all then,\" replied Zadig, \"of one opinion and have no cause to\nquarrel.\"\n\nAll the company embraced him.\n\nSetoc, after having sold his commodities at a very high price, returned\nto his own tribe with his friend Zadig; who learned, upon his arrival,\nthat he had been tried in his absence and was now going to be burned by\na slow fire.\n\n\n\n\nXIII.\n\nTHE RENDEZVOUS.\n\n\nDuring his journey to Balzora the priests of the stars had resolved to\npunish Zadig. The precious stones and ornaments of the young widows whom\nthey sent to the funeral pile belonged to them of right; and the least\nthey could now do was to burn Zadig for the ill office he had done them.\nAccordingly they accused him of entertaining erroneous sentiments of the\nheavenly host. They deposed against him, and swore that they had heard\nhim say that the stars did not set in the sea. This horrid blasphemy\nmade the judges tremble; they were ready to tear their garments upon\nhearing these impious words; and they would certainly have torn them had\nZadig had wherewithal to pay them for new ones. But, in the excess of\ntheir zeal and indignation, they contented themselves with condemning\nhim to be burnt by a slow fire. Setoc, filled with despair at this\nunhappy event, employed all his interest to save his friend, but in\nvain. He was soon obliged to hold his peace. The young widow, Almona,\nwho had now conceived a great fondness for life, for which she was\nobliged to Zadig, resolved to deliver him from the funeral pile, of the\nabuse of which he had fully convinced her. She resolved the scheme in\nher own mind, without imparting it to any person whatever. Zadig was to\nbe executed the next day. If she could save him at all, she must do it\nthat very night; and the method taken by this charitable and prudent\nlady was as follows:\n\nShe perfumed herself, she heightened her beauty by the richest and\ngayest apparel, and went to demand an audience of the chief priest of\nthe stars. As soon as she was introduced to the venerable old man, she\naddressed him in these terms:\n\n\"Eldest son of the great bear, brother of the bull, and cousin of the\ngreat dog, (such were the titles of this pontiff,) I come to acquaint\nthee with my scruples. I am much afraid that I have committed a heinous\ncrime in not burning myself on the funeral pile of my dear husband; for,\nindeed, what had I worth preserving? Perishable flesh, thou seest, that\nis already entirely withered.\" So saying, she drew up her long sleeves\nof silk, and showed her naked arms, which were of an elegant shape and a\ndazzling whiteness. \"Thou seest,\" said she, that these are little worth.\nThe priest found in his heart that they were worth a great deal. He\nswore that he had never in his life seen such beautiful arms. \"Alas!\"\nsaid the widow, \"my arms, perhaps, are not so bad as the rest; but thou\nwilt confess that my neck is not worthy of the least regard.\" She then\ndiscovered the most charming neck that nature had ever formed. Compared\nto it a rose-bud on an apple of ivory would have appeared like madder on\nthe box-tree, and the whiteness of new-washed lambs would have seemed of\na dusky yellow. Her large black eyes, languishing with the gentle lustre\nof a tender fire; her cheeks animated with the finest pink, mixed with\nthe whiteness of milk; her nose, which had no resemblance to the tower\nof Mount Lebanon; her lips, like two borders of coral, inclosing the\nnest pearls in the Arabian Sea; all conspired to make the old man fancy\nand believe that he was young again. Almona, seeing his admiration, now\nentreated him to pardon Zadig. \"Alas!\" said he, \"my charming lady,\nshould I grant thee his pardon, it would be of no service, as it must\nnecessarily be signed by three others, my brethren.\" \"Sign it, however,\"\nsaid Almona. \"With all my heart,\" said the priest. \"Be pleased to visit\nme,\" said Almona, \"when the bright star of Sheat shall appear in the\nhorizon.\"\n\nAlmona then went to the second pontiff. He assured her that the sun, the\nmoon, and all the luminaries of heaven, were but glimmering meteors in\ncomparison to her charms. She asked the same favor of him, and he also\ngranted it readily. She then appointed the second pontiff to meet her at\nthe rising of the star Algenib. From thence she went to the third and\nfourth priest, always taking their signatures, and making an appointment\nfrom star to star. She then sent a message to the judges, entreating\nthem to come to her house on an affair of great importance. They\nobeyed her summons. She showed them the four names, and told them that\nthe priests had granted the pardon of Zadig. Each of the pontiffs\narrived at the hour appointed. Each was surprised at finding his\nbrethren there, but still more at seeing the judges also present. Zadig\nwas saved; and Setoc was so charmed with the skill and address of Almona\nthat he at once made her his wife.\n\n[Illustration: Almona.--Almona, seeing his admiration, now entreated him\nto pardon Zadig. \"Alas!\" said he, \"my charming lady, should I grant thee\nhis pardon, it would be of no service, as it must necessarily be signed\nby three others, my brethren. Sign it, however,\" said Almona.]\n\nBusiness affairs now required Setoc's presence in the island of\nSerendib; but during the first month of his marriage--the month which is\ncalled the honeymoon--he could not permit himself to leave Almona, nor\neven to think he could ever leave her, and he requested Zadig to make\nthe journey in his place. \"Alas!\" said Zadig, \"must I put a still\ngreater distance between the beautiful Astarte and myself? But it would\nbe ungrateful not to serve my friend, and I will endeavor to do my\nduty.\"\n\nSetoc and Zadig now took leave of each other with tears in their eyes,\nboth swearing an eternal friendship, and promising to always share their\nfortunes with each other. Zadig then, after having thrown himself at the\nfeet of his fair deliverer, set out on his journey to Serendib, still\nmusing on the unhappy Astarte, and meditating on the severity of\nfortune, which seemed to persistently make him the sport of her cruelty\nand the object of her persecution.\n\n\"What!\" said he to himself, \"fined four hundred ounces of gold for\nhaving observed a bitch! condemned to lose my head for four bad verses\nin praise of the king! sentenced to be strangled because the queen had\nshoes the color of my turban! reduced to slavery for having succored a\nwoman who was beaten! and on the point of being burned for having saved\nthe lives of all the young widows of Arabia!\"\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nXIII.(1)\n\nTHE DANCE.\n\n\nArriving in due time at the island of Serendib, Zadig's merits were at\nonce recognized, and he was popularly regarded as an extraordinary man.\nHe became the friend of the wise and learned, the arbitrator of\ndisputes, and the advisor of the small number of those who were willing\nto take advice. He was duly presented to the king, who was pleased with\nhis affability, and soon chose him for his friend. But this royal favor\ncaused Zadig to tremble; for he well remembered the misfortunes which\nthe kindness of king Moabdar had formerly brought upon him. \"I please\nthe king,\" said he; \"shall I not therefore be lost?\" Still he could not\nrefuse the king's friendship, for it must be confessed that Nabussan,\nking of Serendib, son of Nassanab, son of Nabassun, son of Sanbusna, was\none of the most amiable princes in Asia.\n\nBut this good prince was always flattered, deceived, and robbed. It was\na contest who should most pillage the royal treasury. The example set by\nthe receiver-general of Serendib was universally followed by the\ninferior officers.\n\nThis the king knew. He had often changed his treasurers, but had never\nbeen able to change the established custom of dividing the revenues into\ntwo unequal parts, of which the smaller came to his majesty, and the\nlarger to his officers.\n\nThis custom Nabussan explained to Zadig. \"You, whose knowledge embraces\nso many subjects,\" said he, \"can you not tell me how to select a\ntreasurer who will not rob me?\" \"Assuredly,\" said Zadig; \"I know a sure\nmethod for finding you a man who will keep his hands clean.\"\n\nThe king was charmed, and asked, while he embraced him, how this was to\nbe done.\n\n\"You have only,\" said Zadig, \"to cause all those who apply for the\noffice of treasurer to dance. He who dances the lightest will surely\nprove to be the most honest man.\"\n\n\"You jest,\" said the king. \"A strange way, certainly, of choosing a\nreceiver of my revenues. What! do you pretend that he who cuts the\nneatest caper will be the most just and skillful financier?\"\n\n\"I will not answer,\" returned Zadig, \"for his being the most skillful,\nbut I assure you he will be the most honest.\"\n\nZadig spoke with so much confidence that the king imagined he had some\nsupernatural test for selecting honest financiers.\n\n\"I do not like the supernatural,\" said Zadig: \"people and books dealing\nin prodigies have always displeased me. If your majesty will permit me\nto make the test, you will be convinced it is the easiest and simplest\nthing possible.\"\n\nNabussan consented, and was more astonished to hear that the test was\nsimple, than if it had been claimed as a miracle.\n\n\"Leave all the details to me,\" said Zadig: \"You will gain more by this\ntrial than you imagine.\"\n\nThe same day he made proclamation in the king's name, that all\ncandidates for the office of receiver-in-chief of the revenues of his\ngracious majesty Nabussan, son of Nussanab, must present themselves in\ndresses of light silk, on the first day of the month of the crocodile,\nin the king's anti-chamber. The candidates came, accordingly, to the\nnumber of sixty-four. Musicians were placed in an adjoining room, and\nall was prepared for the dance. As the door of the saloon was closed, it\nwas necessary, in order to enter it, to pass through a small gallery\nwhich was slightly darkened. An usher directed each candidate in\nsuccession through this obscure passage, in which he was left alone for\nsome moments. The king, being aware of the plan, had temptingly spread\nout in this gallery many of his choicest treasures. When all the\ncandidates were assembled in the saloon, the king ordered the band to\nplay and the dance to begin. Never had dancers performed more\nunwillingly or with less grace. Their heads were down, their backs bent,\ntheir hands pressed to their sides.\n\n\"What rascals!\" murmured Zadig.\n\nOne alone danced with grace and agility,--his head up, his look assured,\nhis body erect, his arms free, his motions natural.\n\n\"Ah, the honest man, the excellent man!\" cried Zadig.\n\nThe king embraced this upright dancer, appointed him treasurer, and\npunished all the others with the utmost justice, for each one had, while\npassing through the gallery, filled his pockets till he could hardly\nwalk. His majesty was distressed at this exhibition of dishonesty, and\nregretted that among these sixty-four dancers there should be\nsixty-three thieves. This dark gallery was then named the Corridor of\nTemptation.\n\nIn Persia these sixty-three lords would have been impaled; in other\ncountries a chamber of justice would have consumed in costs three times\nthe money stolen, replacing nothing in the king's coffers; in yet\nanother kingdom they would have been honorably acquitted, and the light\ndancer disgraced; in Serendib they were only sentenced to add to the\npublic treasure, for Nabussan was very indulgent.\n\nHe was also very grateful, and willingly gave Zadig a larger sum than\nany treasurer had ever stolen from the revenue. This wealth Zadig used\nto send a courier to Babylon to learn the fate of queen Astarte. His\nvoice trembled when directing the courier. His blood seemed to stagnate\nin his veins. His heart almost ceased to beat. His eyes were suffused\nwith tears.\n\n\n\n\nXIII.(2)\n\nBLUE EYES.\n\n\nAfter the courier had gone, Zadig returned to the palace; and forgetting\nthat he was not in his own room, almost unconsciously uttered the word\nLOVE.\n\n\"Ah! love,\" exclaimed the king, \"that is indeed the cause of my\nunhappiness. You have divined what it is that causes me pain. You are\nindeed a great man. I hope you will assist me in my search for a woman,\nperfect in all respects, and of whose affection I may feel assured. You\nhave proved your ability for this service by selecting for me an honest\nfinancier, and I have entire confidence in your success.\"\n\nZadig, having recovered his composure, promised to serve the king in\nlove as he had in finance, although the task seemed to him far more\ndifficult.\n\n\"The body and the heart,\" said the king.\n\nAt these words Zadig could not refrain from interrupting his majesty:\n\"You show good taste,\" said he, \"by not saying the mind and the heart;\nfor we hear nothing but these words in the talk of Babylon. We see\nnothing but books which treat of the heart and mind, written by people\nwho have neither the one nor the other: but pardon me, sire, and deign\nto continue.\"\n\n\"I have in my palace,\" said the king, \"one hundred women who are all\ncalled charming, graceful, beautiful, affectionate even, or pretending\nto be so when in my company; but I have too often realized that it is to\nthe king of Serendib they pay court, and that they care very little for\nNabussan. This pretended affection does not satisfy my desires. I would\nfind a consort that loves me for myself, and who would willingly be all\nmy own. For such a treasure I would joyfully barter the hundred\nbeauties whose forced smiles afford me no delight. Let us see if out of\nthese hundred queens you can select one true woman to bless me with her\nlove.\"\n\nZadig replied to him as he had previously done in regard to the\nfinances: \"Sire, allow me to make the attempt, and permit me to again\nuse the treasure formerly displayed in the Corridor of Temptation. I\nwill render you a faithful account.\"\n\nThe king willingly acceded to this request, and permitted Zadig to do as\nhe desired. He first chose thirty-three of the ugliest little hunchbacks\nthat could be procured in Serendib, then thirty-three of the handsomest\npages to be found, and, lastly, thirty-three bonzes, (priests), the most\neloquent and robust he could select. He gave them all liberty to enter\nthe king's private apartments in the palace, and secure a partner if\nthey so desired. Each little hunchback had four thousand gold pieces\ngiven to him: and on the first day each had secured a companion. The\npages, who had nothing to give but themselves, did not succeed in many\ncases until the end of two or three days. The priests had still more\ntrouble in obtaining partners, but, finally, thirty-three devotees\njoined their fortunes with these pious suitors. The king, through the\nblinds which opened into his apartments, saw all these trials, and was\nastounded. Of these hundred women, ninety-nine discarded his protection.\nThere still remained one, however, still quite young, with whom his\nmajesty had never conversed. They sent to her one, two, three\nhunchbacks, who displayed before her twenty thousand pieces of gold. She\nstill remained firm, and could not refrain from laughing at the idea of\nthese cripples, that wealth could change their appearance. They then\npresented before her the two most beautiful pages. She said she thought\nthe king was still more beautiful. They attacked her with the most\neloquent of the priests, and afterward with the most audacious. She\nfound the first a prattler, and could not perceive any merit in the\nsecond.\n\n\"The heart,\" said she, \"is everything. I will never yield to the\nhunchbacks' gold, the pages' vanity, or the pompous prattle of the\npriests. I love only Nabussan, son of Nussanab, and I will wait until he\ncondescends to love me in return.\"\n\nThe king was transported with joy, astonishment, and love. He took back\nall the money that had brought success to the hunchbacks, and made a\npresent of it the beautiful Falide, which was the name of this charming\nlady. He gave her his heart, which she amply deserved, for never were\nglances from female eyes more brilliant than her own, nor the charms of\nyouthful beauty more enchanting. Envy, it is true, asserted that she\ncourtesied awkwardly; but candor compels the admission that she danced\nlike the fairies, acted like the graces, sang like the sirens, and that\nshe was in truth the very embodiment of intelligence and virtue.\nNabussan loved and adored her; but, alas! she had BLUE EYES, and this\napparently trivial fact was the cause of the gravest misfortunes.\n\nThere was an old law in Serendib forbidding the kings to marry those to\nwhom the Greeks applied the word [Greek: _bo\u00f4pis_] _\u0392\u03bf\u1ff6\u03c0\u03b9\u03c2_.[1] A\nhigh-priest had established this law thousands of years ago. He had\nanathematized blue eyes in order that he might secure for himself the\nhand of the king's favorite. The various orders of the empire now\nremonstrated with Nabussan for disregarding this organic law and loving\nthe beautiful Falide. They publicly asserted that the last days of the\nkingdom had arrived--that this act of royal love was the height of\nsacrilege--that all nature was threatened with a sinister ending--and\nall because Nabussan, son of Nussanab, loved two magnificent blue eyes.\nThe cripples, the capitalists, the bonzes and the brunettes filled the\nkingdom with their complaints.\n\nThe barbarians of the northern provinces profited by the general\ndiscontent. They invaded the territory of the good Nabussan and demanded\na tribute from his subjects. The priests, who possessed half the\nrevenues of the state, contented themselves with raising their hands to\nheaven, and refused to put them in their coffers to aid the king. They\nchanted beautiful prayers, and left the state a prey to the invaders.\n\n\"Oh! my dear Zadig,\" sadly cried Nabussan, \"can you not rescue me from\nthis impending danger?\"\n\n\"Very willingly,\" replied Zadig: \"you shall have for your defence as\nmuch money from the priests as you may desire. Leave, I pray you,\nwithout guard the property of the bonzes, and defend only your own\npossessions.\"\n\nNabussan wisely followed this advice. The priests became alarmed, threw\nthemselves at his feet and implored his protection. The king replied\nwith agreeable music, and chanted forth prayers and invocations to\nheaven with much sweetness and melody; finally, the priests reluctantly\ncontributed the money, and the king brought the war to a happy\ntermination.\n\nThus Zadig by his sensible advice and judicious services drew upon\nhimself the enmity of the most powerful parties in the state. The bonzes\nand the brunettes swore to destroy him; the capitalists and the cripples\ndid not spare him. They caused the good Nabussan to suspect him.\n\"Services rendered often remain in the anti-chamber, and distrust enters\ninto the cabinet.\" So said Zoroaster. Every day there were fresh\naccusations: the first is repelled; the second is lightly thought of;\nthe third wounds; the fourth kills.\n\nZadig was dismayed, and having now satisfactorily arranged Setoc's\naffairs, he only thought of leaving the island in safety.\n\n\"But where shall I go?\" said he. \"If I remain in Serendib the priests\nwill doubtless have me impaled; in Egypt I would probably be enslaved,\nburnt, according to all appearances, in Arabia; strangled in Babylon.\nHowever, I must learn what has become of Queen Astarte, and will go on\nand see what sad fate destiny has still in store for me.\"\n\n\n[1] Having large, full, finely rounded eyes. In Homer, always applied to\nfemales, and most frequently to the goddess Juno, as a point of majestic\nbeauty.--E.\n\n\n\n\nXIV.\n\nTHE ROBBER.\n\n\nArriving on the frontiers which divide Arabia Petr\u00e6a from Syria, he\npassed by a very strong castle from which a party of armed Arabians\nsallied forth. They instantly surrounded him and cried:\n\n\"All thou hast belongs to us, and thy person is the property of our\nmaster.\"\n\nZadig replied by drawing his sword; his servant, who was a man of\ncourage, did the same. They killed the first Arabians that presumed to\nlay hands on them; and though the number was redoubled, they were not\ndismayed, but resolved to perish in the conflict. Two men defended\nthemselves against a multitude; but such combat could not last long,\nthe master of the castle, whose name was Arbogad, having observed from a\nwindow the prodigies of valor performed by Zadig, conceived a high\nesteem for this heroic stranger. He descended in haste, and went in\nperson to call off his men and deliver the two travelers.\n\n\"All that passes over my lands,\" said he, \"belongs to me, as well as\nwhat I find upon the lands of others; but thou seemest to be a man of\nsuch undaunted courage, that I will exempt thee from the common law.\"\n\nHe then conducted him to his castle, ordering his men to treat him well;\nand in the evening Arbogad supped with Zadig. The lord of the castle was\none of those Arabians who are commonly called robbers; but he now and\nthen performed some good actions amidst a multitude of bad ones. He\nrobbed with a furious rapacity, and granted favors with great\ngenerosity. He was intrepid in action; affable in company; a debauchee\nat table, but gay in his debauchery; and particularly remarkable for his\nfrank and open behavior. He was highly pleased with Zadig, whose lively\nconversation lengthened the repast. At last Arbogad said to him:\n\n\"I advise thee to enroll thy name in my catalogue. Thou canst not do\nbetter. This is not a bad trade, and thou mayest one day become what I\nam at present.\"\n\n\"May I take the liberty of asking thee,\" said Zadig, \"how long thou hast\nfollowed this noble profession?\"\n\n\"From my most tender youth,\" replied the lord, \"I was servant to a\npetty, good-natured Arabian, but could not endure the hardships of my\nsituation. I was vexed to find that fate had given me no share of the\nearth which equally belongs to all men. I imparted the cause of my\nuneasiness to an old Arabian, who said to me:\n\n\"'My son, do not despair; there was once a grain of sand that lamented\nthat it was no more than a neglected atom in the deserts; at the end of\na few years it became a diamond, and it is now the brightest ornament in\nthe crown of the king of the Indies.'\n\n[Illustration: Zadig and The Brigand.--\"I advise thee to enroll thy name\nin my catalogue. Thou canst not do better,\" said the robber, \"This is\nnot a bad trade, and thou mayest one day become what I am at present.\"]\n\n\"This discourse made a deep impression on my mind. I was the grain of\nsand, and I resolved to become the diamond. I began by stealing two\nhorses. I soon got a party of companions. I put myself in a condition to\nrob small caravans; and thus, by degrees, I destroyed the difference\nwhich had formerly subsisted between me and other men. I had my share of\nthe good things of this world; and was even recompensed with usury for\nthe hardships I had suffered. I was greatly respected, and became the\ncaptain of a band of robbers. I seized this castle by force. The satrap\nof Syria had a mind to dispossess me of it; but I was too rich to have\nany thing to fear. I gave the satrap a handsome present, by which means\nI preserved my castle, and increased my possessions. He even appointed\nme treasurer of the tributes which Arabia Petr\u00e6a pays to the king of\nkings. I perform my office of receiver with great punctuality; but take\nthe freedom to dispense with that of paymaster.\n\n\"The grand Desterham of Babylon sent hither a petty satrap in the name\nof king Moabdar, to have me strangled. This man arrived with his orders.\nI was apprised of all. I caused to be strangled in his presence the four\npersons he had brought with him to draw the noose; after which I asked\nhim how much his commission of strangling me might be worth. He replied,\nthat his fees would amount to above three hundred pieces of gold. I then\nconvinced him that he might gain more by staying with me. I made him an\ninferior robber; and he is now one of my best and richest officers. If\nthou wilt take my advice, thy success may be equal to his. Never was\nthere a better season for plunder, since king Moabdar is killed, and all\nBabylon thrown into confusion.\"\n\n\"Moabdar killed!\" said Zadig, \"and what has become of queen Astarte?\"\n\n\"I know not,\" replied Arbogad. \"All I know is, that Moabdar lost his\nsenses and was killed; that Babylon is a scene of disorder and\nbloodshed; that all the empire is desolated; that there are some fine\nstrokes to be made yet; and that, for my own part, I have struck some\nthat are admirable.\"\n\n\"But the queen,\" said Zadig; \"for heaven's sake, knowest thou nothing of\nthe queen's fate?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" replied he, \"I have heard something of a prince of Plircania. If\nshe was not killed in the tumult, she is probably one of his\nconcubines. But I am much fonder of booty than news. I have taken\nseveral women in my excursions, but I keep none of them. I sell them at\na high price when they are beautiful, without enquiring who they are. In\ncommodities of this kind rank makes no difference, and a queen that is\nugly will never find a merchant. Perhaps I may have sold queen Astarte;\nperhaps she is dead; but, be it as it will, it is of little consequence\nto me, and I should imagine of as little to thee.\"\n\nSo saying, he drank a large draught, which threw all his ideas into such\nconfusion that Zadig could obtain no farther information.\n\nZadig remained for some time without speech, sense, or motion. Arbogad\ncontinued drinking, constantly repeated that he was the happiest man in\nthe world; and exhorted Zadig to put himself in the same condition. At\nlast the soporiferous fume of the wine lulled him into a gentle repose.\nZadig passed the night in the most violent perturbation.\n\n\"What,\" said he, \"did the king lose his senses? and is he killed? I\ncannot help lamenting his fate. The empire is rent in pieces: and this\nrobber is happy. O fortune! O destiny! A robber is happy, and the most\nbeautiful of nature's works hath perhaps perished in a barbarous manner,\nor lives in a state worse than death. O Astarte! what has become of\nthee?\"\n\nAt day break, he questioned all those he met in the castle; but they\nwere all busy and he received no answer. During the night they had made\na new capture, and they were now employed in dividing the spoil. All he\ncould obtain in this hurry and confusion was an opportunity of\ndeparting, which he immediately embraced, plunged deeper than ever in\nthe most gloomy and mournful reflections.\n\nZadig proceeded on his journey with a mind full of disquiet and\nperplexity, and wholly employed on the unhappy Astarte on the king of\nBabylon, on his faithful friend Cador, on the happy robber Arbogad, on\nthat capricious woman whom the Babylonians had seized on the frontiers\nof Egypt. In a word, on all the misfortunes and disappointments he had\nhitherto suffered.\n\n\n\n\nXV.\n\nTHE FISHERMAN.\n\n\nAt few leagues distance from Arbogad's castle he came to the banks of a\nsmall river, still deploring his fate, and considering himself as the\nmost wretched of mankind. He saw a fisherman lying on the bank of the\nriver, scarcely holding in his weak and feeble hand a net which he\nseemed ready to drop, and lifting up his eyes to heaven.\n\n\"I am certainly,\" said the fisherman, \"the most unhappy man in the\nworld. I was universally allowed to be the most famous dealer in\ncream-cheese in Babylon, and yet I am ruined. I had the most handsome\nwife that any man in my situation could have; and by her I have been\nbetrayed. I had still left a paltry house, and that I have seen pillaged\nand destroyed. At last I took refuge in this cottage, where I have no\nother resource than fishing, and yet I cannot catch a single fish. Oh,\nmy net! no more will I throw thee into the water; I will throw myself in\nthy place.\"\n\nSo saying, he arose and advanced forward, in the attitude of a man ready\nto throw himself into the river, and thus to finish his life.\n\n\"What,\" said Zadig, \"are there men as wretched as I?\"\n\nHis eagerness to save the fisherman's life was as sudden as this\nreflection. He runs to him, stops him, and speaks to him with a tender\nand compassionate air. It is commonly supposed that we are less\nmiserable when we have companions in our misery. This, according to\nZoroaster, does not proceed from malice, but necessity. We feel\nourselves insensibly drawn to an unhappy person as to one like\nourselves. The joy of the happy would be an insult; but two men in\ndistress are like two slender trees, which, mutually supporting each\nother, fortify themselves against the tempest.\n\n\"Why,\" said Zadig to the fisherman, \"dost thou sink under thy\nmisfortunes?\"\n\n\"Because,\" replied he, \"I see no means of relief. I was the most\nconsiderable man in the village of Derlback, near Babylon, and with the\nassistance of my wife I made the best cream-cheese in the empire. Queen\nAstarte, and the famous minister, Zadig, were extremely fond of them. I\nhad sent them six hundred cheeses, and one day went to the city to\nreceive my money; but, on my arrival at Babylon, was informed that the\nqueen and Zadig had disappeared. I ran to the house of Lord Zadig, whom\nI had never seen; and found there the inferior officers of the grand\nDesterham, who being furnished with a royal license, were plundering it\nwith great loyalty and order. From thence I flew to the queen's kitchen,\nsome of the lords of which told me that the queen was dead; some said\nshe was in prison; and others pretended that she had made her escape;\nbut they all agreed in assuring me that I would not be paid for my\ncheese. I went with my wife to the house of Lord Orcan, who was one of\nmy customers, and begged his protection in my present distress. He\ngranted it to my wife, but refused it to me. She was whiter than the\ncream-cheeses that began my misfortune, and the lustre of the Tyrian\npurple was not more bright than the carnation which animated this\nwhiteness. For this reason Orcan detained her, and drove me from his\nhouse. In my despair I wrote a letter to my dear wife. She said to the\nbearer, 'Ha, ha! I know the writer of this a little. I have heard his\nname mentioned. They say he I makes excellent cream-cheeses. Desire him\nto send me some and he shall be paid.'\n\n\"In my distress I resolved to apply to justice. I had still six ounces\nof gold remaining. I was obliged to give two to the lawyer whom I\nconsulted, two to the procurator who undertook my cause, and two to the\nsecretary of the first judge. When all this was done, my business was\nnot begun; and I had already expended more money than my cheese and my\nwife were worth. I returned to my own village, with an intention to sell\nmy house, in order to enable me to recover my wife.\n\n\"My house was well worth sixty ounces of gold; but as my neighbors saw\nthat I was poor and obliged to sell it, the first to whom I applied\noffered me thirty ounces, the second twenty, and the third ten. Bad as\nthese offers were, I was so blind that I was going to strike a bargain,\nwhen a prince of Hircania came to Babylon, and ravaged all in his way.\nMy house was first sacked and then burned.\n\n\"Having thus lost my money, my wife, and my house, I retired into this\ncountry, where thou now seest me. I have endeavored to gain a\nsubsistence by fishing; but the fish make a mock of thee as well as the\nmen. I catch none; I die with hunger; and had it not been for thee,\naugust comforter, I should have perished in the river.\"\n\nThe fisherman was not allowed to give this long account without\ninterruption; at every moment, Zadig, moved and transported, said:\n\n\"What! knowest thou nothing of the queen's fate?\"\n\n\"No my lord,\" replied the fisherman; \"but I know that neither the queen\nnor Zadig have paid me for my cream-cheeses; that I have lost my wife,\nand am now reduced to despair.\"\n\n\"I flatter myself,\" said Zadig, \"that thou wilt not lose all thy money.\nI have heard of this Zadig; he is an honest man; and if he return to\nBabylon, as he expects, he will give thee more than he owes thee. But\nwith regard to thy wife, who is not so honest, I advise thee not to seek\nto recover her. Believe me, go to Babylon; I shall be there before thee,\nbecause I am on horseback, and thou art on foot. Apply to the\nillustrious Cador. Tell him thou hast met his friend. Wait for me at his\nhouse. Go, perhaps thou wilt not always be unhappy.\n\n\"O powerful Oromazes!\" continued he, \"thou employest me to comfort this\nman. Whom wilt thou employ to give me consolation?\"\n\nSo saying, he gave the fisherman half the money he had brought from\nArabia. The fisherman, struck with surprise and ravished with joy,\nkissed the feet of the friend of Cador, and said:\n\n\"Thou art surely an angel sent from heaven to save me!\" Meanwhile Zadig\ncontinued to make fresh inquiries and to shed tears. \"What! my lord,\"\ncried the fisherman, \"and art thou then so unhappy, thou who bestowest\nfavors?\"\n\n\"A hundred times more unhappy than thee,\" replied Zadig.\n\n\"But how is it possible,\" said the good man, \"that the giver can be more\nwretched than the receiver?\"\n\n\"Because,\" replied Zadig, \"thy greatest misery arose from poverty, and\nmine is seated in the heart.\"\n\n\"Did Orcan take thy wife from thee?\" said the fisherman.\n\nThis word recalled to Zadig's mind the whole of his adventures. He\nrepeated the catalogue of his misfortunes, beginning with the queen's\nbitch and ending with his arrival at the castle of the robber Arbogad.\n\n\"Ah!\" said he to the fisherman, \"Orcan deserves to be punished: but it\nis commonly such men as those that are the favorites of fortune.\nHowever, go thou to the house of Lord Cador, and there await my\narrival.\"\n\nThey then parted: the fisherman walked, thanking heaven for the\nhappiness of his condition; and Zadig rode, accusing fortune for the\nhardness of his lot.\n\n\n\n\nXVI.\n\nTHE BASILISK.\n\n\nArriving in a beautiful meadow, he there saw several women, who were\nsearching for something with great application. He took the liberty to\napproach one of them, and to ask if he might have the honor to assist\nthem in their search.\n\n\"Take care that thou dost not,\" replied the Syrian. \"What we are\nsearching for can be touched only by women.\"\n\n\"Strange,\" said Zadig. \"May I presume to ask thee what it is that women\nonly are permitted to touch?\"\n\n\"It is a basilisk,\" said she.\n\n\"A basilisk, madam! and for what purpose, pray, dost thou seek for a\nbasilisk?\"\n\n\"It is for our lord and master, Ogul, whose castle thou seest on the\nbank of that river, at the end of that meadow. We are his most humble\nslaves. The lord Ogul is sick. His physician hath ordered him to eat a\nbasilisk, stewed in rose-water; and as it is a very rare animal, and can\nonly be taken by women, the lord Ogul hath promised to choose for his\nwell-beloved wife the woman that shall bring him a basilisk. Let me go\non in my search; for thou seest what I shall lose if I am forestalled by\nmy companions.\"\n\n[Illustration: THE BASILISK.]\n\n\n\n     THE BASILISK, OR COCKATRICE.\n\n\n     The Basilisk, called \"Cockatrice\" in \"holy writ,\" was first\n     described by certain ancient historians of unquestioned imaginative\n     ability, but of very doubtful veracity; and they have also enriched\n     the popular mythology with minute descriptions of the Phoenix, the\n     Griffin, the Centaur, the Chimera, the Unicorn, and many other\n     fanciful and mythical creations.\n\n     The learned and pious naturalist, Charles Owen, D.D., of London,\n     England, (from whose celebrated _Essay Towards a Natural History of\n     Serpents_, published in 1742, the preceding engraving has been\n     copied), tells us that \"the Basilisk is a serpent of the Draconick\n     line--the property of Africa; that in shape it resembles a cock,\n     the tail excepted; that the Egyptians say it springs from the egg\n     of the bird Ibis, and others, from eggs of a cock; that it is gross\n     in body, of fiery eyes and sharp head, on which it wears a crest\n     like a cock's comb; that it has the honor to be styled Regulus by\n     the Latins--_the little king of serpents_; that it is terrible to\n     them, and its voice puts them to flight, that, as tradition adds,\n     its eyes and breath are killing; that dreadful things are\n     attributed to it by the poets; and that, according to Pliny, the\n     venom of the Basilisk is said to be so exalted, that if it bites a\n     staff 'twill kill the person that makes use of it; but this,\"\n     continues the reverend doctor of divinity, \"is tradition without a\n     voucher.\"\n\n     The \"inspired\" prophet Isaiah, whose writings are venerated by both\n     Jews and Christians, and whose prophetic utterances have so long\n     been discussed with more zeal than discretion by the sectarians,\n     tells us, (Isaiah xiv. 29), that \"Out of the serpent's root shall\n     come forth a Cockatrice, and his fruit _shall be_ a fiery, flying\n     serpent.\" This somewhat incoherent prediction has never been\n     satisfactorily explained by the learned commentators who are\n     specially educated in our colleges for solving theological enigmas,\n     and who have failed to show, to the confusion of scientists and the\n     admiration of a believing world, how a Cockatrice may emerge from a\n     \"serpent's root,\" and why a Cockatrice's \"fiery and flying fruit\"\n     should have formed a theme for prophetic inspiration.--E.\n\n\n\n[Illustration: Zadig discovers Queen Astarte.--\"In her hand she held a\nsmall rod with which she was tracing characters on the fine sand that\nlay between the turf and the brook.\"]\n\nZadig left her and the other Assyrians to search for their basilisk, and\ncontinued his journey through the meadow; when coming to the brink of a\nsmall rivulet, he found a lady lying on the grass, and who was not\nsearching for any thing. Her person seemed majestic; but her face was\ncovered with a veil. She was inclined toward the rivulet, and profound\nsighs proceeded from her bosom. In her hand she held a small rod with\nwhich she was tracing characters on the fine sand that lay between the\nturf and the brook.\n\nZadig had the curiosity to examine what this woman was writing. He drew\nnear. He saw the letter Z, then an A; he was astonished: then appeared a\nD; he started. But never was surprise equal to his, when he saw the two\nlast letters of his name. He stood for some time immovable. At last\nbreaking silence with a faltering voice:\n\n\"Oh! generous lady!\" pardon a stranger, an unfortunate man, for\npresuming to ask thee by what surprising adventure I here find the name\nof Zadig traced out by thy divine hand?'\n\nAt this voice and these words, the lady lifted up the veil with a\ntrembling hand, looked at Zadig, sent forth a cry of tenderness,\nsurprise, and joy, and sinking under the various emotions which at once\nassaulted her soul fell speechless into his arms. It was Astarte\nherself; it was the queen of Babylon; it was she whom Zadig adored, and\nwhom he had reproached himself for adoring; it was she whose misfortunes\nhe had so deeply lamented, and for whose fate he had been so anxiously\nconcerned. He was for a moment deprived of the use of his senses, when\nhe had fixed his eyes on those of Astarte, which now began to open again\nwith a languor mixed with confusion and tenderness:\n\n\"O ye immortal powers!\" cried he, \"who preside over the fates of weak\nmortals; do ye indeed restore Astarte to me? At what a time, in what a\nplace, and in what a condition do I again behold her?\"\n\nHe fell on his knees before Astarte, and laid his face in the dust at\nher feet. The queen of Babylon raised him up, and made him sit by her\nside on the brink of the rivulet. She frequently wiped her eyes, from\nwhich the tears continued to flow afresh. She twenty times resumed her\ndiscourse, which her sighs as often interrupted. She asked by what\nstrange accident they were brought together, and suddenly prevented his\nanswer by other questions. She waived the account of her own\nmisfortunes, and desired to be informed of those of Zadig. At last, both\nof them having a little composed the tumult of their souls, Zadig\nacquainted her in a few words by what adventure he was brought into that\nmeadow.\n\n\"But, O unhappy and respectable queen! by what means do I find thee in\nthis lonely place, clothed in the habit of a slave, and accompanied by\nother female slaves, who are searching for a basilisk, which, by order\nof the physician, is to be stewed in rose-water?\"\n\n\"While they are searching for their basilisk,\" said the fair Astarte, \"I\nwill inform thee of all I have suffered, for which heaven has\nsufficiently recompensed me, by restoring thee to my sight. Thou knowest\nthat the king, my husband, was vexed to see thee, the most amiable of\nmankind; and that for this reason he one night resolved to strangle thee\nand poison me. Thou knowest how heaven permitted my little mute to\ninform me of the orders of his sublime majesty. Hardly had the faithful\nCador obliged thee to depart, in obedience to my command, when he\nventured to enter my apartment at midnight by a secret passage. He\ncarried me off, and conducted me to the temple of Oromazes, where the\nmagi, his brother, shut me up in that huge statue, whose base reaches to\nthe foundation of the temple, and whose top rises to the summit of the\ndome. I was there buried in a manner; but was served by the magi, and\nsupplied with all the necessaries of life. At break of day his majesty's\napothecary entered my chamber with a potion composed of a mixture of\nhenbane, opium, hemlock, black hellebore, and aconite; and another\nofficer went to thine with a bowstring of blue silk. Neither of us were\nto be found. Cador, the better to deceive the king, pretended to come\nand accuse us both. He said that thou hadst taken the road to the\nIndies, and I that to Memphis; on which the king's guards were\nimmediately dispatched in pursuit of us both.\n\n[Illustration: Cador concealing Astarte in the Temple of Oromazes.]\n\n\"The couriers who pursured me did not know me. I had hardly ever shown\nmy face to any but thee, and to thee only in the presence and by the\norder of my husband. They conducted themselves in the pursuit by the\ndescription that had been given of my person. On the frontiers of Egypt\nthey met with a woman of the same stature with me, and possessed perhaps\nof greater charms. She was weeping and wandering. They made no doubt but\nthat this woman was the queen of Babylon, and accordingly brought her to\nMoabdar. Their mistake at first threw the king into a violent passion;\nbut having viewed this woman more attentively, he found her extremely\nhandsome, and was comforted. She was called Missouf. I have since been\ninformed that this name in the Egyptian language signifies the\ncapricious fair one. She was so in reality; but she had as much cunning\nas caprice. She pleased Moabdar, and gained such an ascendency over him\nas to make him choose her for his wife. Her character then began to\nappear in its true colors. She gave herself up, without scruple, to all\nthe freaks of a wanton imagination. She would have obliged the chief of\nthe magi, who was old and gouty, to dance before her; and on his\nrefusal, she persecuted him with the most unrelenting cruelty. She\nordered her master of the horse to make her a pie of sweetmeats. In vain\ndid he represent that he was not a pastry-cook. He was obliged to make\nit, and lost his place because it was baked a little too hard. The post\nof master of the horse she gave to her dwarf, and that of Chancellor to\nher page. In this manner did she govern Babylon. Every body regretted\nthe loss of me. The king, who till the moment of his resolving to poison\nme and strangle thee had been a tolerably good kind of man, seemed now\nto have drowned all his virtues in his immoderate fondness for this\ncapricious fair one. He came to the temple on the great day of the feast\nheld in honor of the sacred fire. I saw him implore the gods in behalf\nof Missouf, at the feet of the statue in which I was inclosed. I raised\nmy voice; I cried out:\n\n\"'The gods reject the prayers of a king who is now become a tyrant, and\nwho attempted to murder a reasonable wife, in order to marry a woman\nremarkable for nothing but her folly and extravagance.'\n\n\"At these words Moabdar was confounded and his head became disordered.\nThe oracle I had pronounced, and the tyranny of Missouf, conspired to\ndeprive him of his judgment, and in a few days his reason entirely\nforsook him.\n\n\"His madness, which seemed to be the judgment of heaven, was the signal\nfor a revolt. The people rose, and ran to arms; and Babylon, which had\nbeen so long immersed in idleness and effeminacy, became the theatre of\na bloody civil war. I was taken from the heart of my statue and placed\nat the head of a party. Cador flew to Memphis to bring thee back to\nBabylon. The prince of Hircania, informed of these fatal events,\nreturned with his army and made a third party in Chaldea. He attacked\nthe king, who fled before him with his capricious Egyptian. Moabdar died\npierced with wounds. Missouf fell into the hands of the conqueror. I\nmyself had the misfortune to be taken by a party of Hircanians, who\nconducted me to their prince's tent, at the very moment that Missouf was\nbrought before him. Thou wilt doubtless be pleased to hear that the\nprince thought me more beautiful than the Egyptian; but thou wilt be\nsorry to be informed that he designed me for his seraglio. He told me,\nwith a blunt and resolute air, that as soon as he had finished a\nmilitary expedition, which he was just going to undertake, he would come\nto me. Judge how great must have been my grief. My ties with Moabdar\nwere already dissolved; I might have been the wife of Zadig; and I was\nfallen into the hands of a barbarian. I answered him with all the pride\nwhich my high rank and noble sentiment could inspire. I had always heard\nit affirmed that heaven stamped on persons of my condition a mark of\ngrandeur, which, with a single word or glance, could reduce to the\nlowliness of the most profound respect those rash and forward persons\nwho presume to deviate from the rules of politeness. I spoke like a\nqueen, but was treated like a maid-servant. The Hircanian, without even\ndeigning to speak to me, told his black eunuch that I was impertinent,\nbut that he thought me handsome. He ordered him to take care of me and\nto put me under the regimen of favorites, that, so my complexion being\nimproved, I might be the more worthy of his favors when he should be at\nleisure to honor me with them. I told him, that, rather than submit to\nhis desires, I would put an end to my life. He replied with a smile,\nthat women, he believed, were not so blood-thirsty, and that he was\naccustomed to such violent expressions; and then left me with the air of\na man who had just put another parrot into his aviary. What a state for\nthe first queen in the universe, and, what is more, for a heart devoted\nto Zadig!\"\n\nAt these words Zadig threw himself at her feet, and bathed them with his\ntears. Astarte raised him with great tenderness, and thus continued her\nstory:\n\n\"I now saw myself in the power of a barbarian, and rival to the foolish\nwoman with whom I was conned. She gave me an account of her adventures\nin Egypt. From the description she gave of your person, from the time,\nfrom the dromedary on which you were mounted, and from every other\ncircumstance, I inferred that Zadig was the man who had fought for her.\nI doubted not but that you were at Memphis, and therefore resolved to\nrepair thither. 'Beautiful Missouf,' said I, 'thou art more handsome\nthan I, and will please the prince of Hircania much better. Assist me in\ncontriving the means of my escape. Thou wilt then reign alone. Thou wilt\nat once make me happy and rid thyself of a rival.'\n\n\"Missouf concerted with me the means of my flight; and I departed\nsecretly with a female slave. As I approached the frontiers of Arabia, a\nfamous robber, named Arbogad, seized me and sold me to some merchants\nwho brought me to this castle where ford Ogul resides. He bought me\nwithout knowing who I was. He is a voluptuary, ambitious of nothing but\ngood living, and thinks that God sent him into the world for no other\npurpose than to sit at table. He is so extremely corpulent, that he is\nalways in danger of suffocation. His physician, who has but little\ncredit with him when he has a good digestion, governs him with a\ndespotic sway when he has eaten too much. He has persuaded him that a\nbasilisk stewed in rose-water will effect a complete cure. The ford Ogul\nhath promised his hand to the female slave that brings him a basilisk.\nThou seest that I leave them to vie with each other in meriting this\nhonor; and never was I less desirous of finding the basilisk than since\nheaven hath restored thee to my sight.\"\n\nThis account was succeeded by a long conversation between Astarte and\nZadig, consisting of every thing that their long suppressed sentiments,\ntheir great sufferings, and their mutual love, could inspire into\nhearts the most noble and tender, and the genii who preside over love\ncarried their words to the sphere of Venus.\n\nThe women returned to Ogul without having found the basilisk. Zadig was\nintroduced to this mighty lord, and spoke to him in the following terms:\n\n\"May immortal health descend from heaven to bless all thy days! I am a\nphysician. At the first report of thy indisposition I flew to thy\ncastle, and have now brought thee a basilisk stewed in rose-water. Not\nthat I pretend to marry thee. All I ask is the liberty of a Babylonian\nslave, who hath been in thy possession for a few days; and, if I should\nnot be so happy as to cure thee, magnificent Lord Ogul, I consent to\nremain a slave in her place.\"\n\nThe proposal was accepted. Astarte set out for Babylon with Zadig's\nservant, promising, immediately upon her arrival, to send a courier to\ninform him of all that had happened. Their parting was as tender as\ntheir meeting. The moment of meeting, and that of parting are the two\ngreatest epochs of life as sayeth the great book of Zend. Zadig loved\nthe queen with as much ardor as he professed; and the queen loved Zadig\nmore than she thought proper to acknowledge.\n\nMeanwhile Zadig spoke thus to Ogul:\n\n\"My lord, my basilisk is not to be eaten; all its virtues must enter\nthrough thy pores. I have inclosed it in a little ball, blown up and\ncovered with a fine skin. Thou must strike this ball with all thy might,\nand I must strike it back for a considerable time; and by observing this\nregimen for a few days, thou wilt see the effects of my art.\"\n\nThe first day Ogul was out of breath, and thought he should have died\nwith fatigue. The second, he was less fatigued, and slept better. In\neight days he recovered all the strength, all the health, all the\nagility and cheerfulness of his most agreeable years.\n\n\"Thou hast played at ball, and hast been temperate,\" said Zadig. \"Know\nthat there is no such thing in nature as a basilisk; that temperance and\nexercise are the two great preservatives of health; and that the art of\nreconciling intemperance and health is as chimerical as the\nphilosopher's stone, judicial astrology, or the theology of the magi.\"\n\nOgul's first physician observing how dangerous this man might prove to\nthe medical art, formed a design, in conjunction with the apothecary, to\nsend Zadig to search for a basilisk in the other world. Thus, after\nhaving suffered such a long train of calamities on account of his good\nactions, he was now upon the point of losing his life for curing a\ngluttonous lord. He was invited to an excellent dinner, and was to have\nbeen poisoned in the second course; but, during the first, he happily\nreceived a courier from the fair Astarte.\n\n\"When one is beloved by a beautiful woman,\" says the great Zoroaster,\n\"he hath always the good fortune to extricate himself out of every kind\nof difficulty and danger.\"\n\n\n\n\nXVII.\n\nTHE COMBATS.\n\n\nThe queen was received at Babylon with all those transports of joy which\nare ever felt on the return of a beautiful princess who hath been\ninvolved in calamities. Babylon was now in greater tranquillity. The\nprince of Hircania had been killed in battle. The victorious Babylonians\ndeclared that the queen should marry the man whom they should choose for\ntheir sovereign. They were resolved that the first place in the world,\nthat of being husband to Astarte and king of Babylon, should not depend\non cabals and intrigues. They swore to acknowledge for king the man who,\nupon trial, should be found to be possessed of the greatest valor and\nthe greatest wisdom. Accordingly, at the distance of a few leagues from\nthe city, a spacious place was marked out for the list, surrounded with\nmagnificent amphitheatres. Thither the combatants were to repair in\ncomplete armor. Each of them had a separate apartment behind the\namphitheatres, where they were neither to be seen nor known by any one.\nEach was to encounter four knights; and those that were so happy as to\nconquer four, were then to engage with one another: so that he who\nremained the last master of the field, would be proclaimed conqueror at\nthe games. Four days after he was to return to the same place, and to\nexplain the enigmas proposed by the magi. If he did not explain the\nenigmas, he was not king; and the running at the lances was to begin\nafresh, till a man should be found who was conqueror in both these\ncombats; for they were absolutely determined to have a king possessed of\nthe greatest wisdom and the most invincible courage. The queen was all\nthe while to be strictly guarded. She was only allowed to be present at\nthe games, and even there she was to be covered with a veil; but was not\nallowed to speak to any of the competitors, that so they might neither\nreceive favor, nor suffer injustice.\n\nThese particulars Astarte communicated to her lover, hoping that, in\norder to obtain her, he would show himself possessed of greater courage\nand wisdom than any other person.\n\nZadig set out on his journey, beseeching Venus to fortify his courage\nand enlighten his understanding. He arrived on the banks of the\nEuphrates on the eve of this great day. He caused his device to be\ninscribed among those of the combatants, concealing his face and his\nname, as the law ordained; and then went to repose himself in the\napartment that fell to him by lot. His friend, Cador, who after the\nfruitless search he had made for him in Egypt, had now returned to\nBabylon, sent to his tent a complete suit of armor, which was a present\nfrom the queen; as also from himself, one of the finest horses in\nPersia. Zadig presently perceived that these presents were sent by\nAstarte; and from thence his courage derived fresh strength, and his\nlove the most animating hopes.\n\nNext day, the queen being seated under a canopy of jewels, and the\namphitheatres filled with all the gentlemen and ladies of rank in\nBabylon, the combatants appeared in the circus. Each of them came and\nlaid his device at the feet of the grand magi. They drew their devices\nby lot; and that of Zadig was the last. The first who advanced was a\ncertain lord, named Itobad, very rich and very vain, but possessed of\nlittle courage, of less address, and scarcely of any judgment at all.\nHis servants had persuaded him that such a man as he ought to be king.\nHe had said in reply, \"Such a man as I ought to reign;\" and thus they\nhad armed him cap-a-pie. He wore an armor of gold enameled with green, a\nplume of green feathers, and a lance adorned with green ribbons. It\nwas instantly perceived by the manner in which Itobad managed his horse,\nthat it was not for such a man as him that heaven reserved the sceptre\nof Babylon. The first knight that ran against him threw him out of his\nsaddle: the second laid him flat on his horse's buttocks, with his legs\nin the air, and his arms extended. Itobad recovered himself, but with so\nbad a grace, that the whole amphitheatre burst out a laughing. The third\nknight disdained to make use of his lance; but, making a pass at him,\ntook him by the right leg, and wheeling him half round, laid him\nprostrate on the sand. The squires of the games ran to him laughing, and\nreplaced him in his saddle. The fourth combatant took him by the left\nleg, and tumbled him down on the other side. He was conducted back with\nscornful shouts to his tent, where, according to the law, he was to pass\nthe night; and as he limped along with great difficulty, he said: \"What\nan adventure for such a man as I!\"\n\n[Illustration: The combats.]\n\nThe other knights acquitted themselves with greater ability and success.\nSome of them conquered two combatants; a few of them vanquished three;\nbut none but prince of Otamus conquered four. At last Zadig fought in\nhis turn. He successively threw four knights off their saddles with all\nthe grace imaginable. It then remained to be seen who should be\nconqueror, of Otamus or Zadig. The arms of the first were gold and blue,\nwith a plume of the same color; those of the last were white. The wishes\nof all the spectators were divided between the knight in blue and the\nknight in white. The queen, whose heart was in a violent palpitation,\noffered prayers to heaven for the success of the white color.\n\nThe two champions made their passes and vaults with so much agility,\nthey mutually gave and received such dexterous blows with their lances,\nand sat so firmly in their saddles, that every body but the queen wished\nthere might be two kings in Babylon. At length, their horses being tired\nand their lances broken, Zadig had recourse to this stratagem: He passed\nbehind the blue prince; springs upon the buttocks of his horse; seizes\nhim by the middle; throws him on the earth; places himself in the\nsaddle, and wheels around Otamus as he lay extended on the ground. All\nthe amphitheatre cried out, \"Victory to the white knight!\" Otamus rises\nin a violent passion, and draws his sword; Zadig leaps from his horse\nwith his sabre in his hand. Both of them are now on the ground, engaged\nin a new combat, where strength and agility triumph by turns. The plumes\nof their helmets, the studs of their bracelets, and the rings of their\narmor are driven to a great distance by the violence of a thousand\nfurious blows. They strike with the point and the edge; to the right, to\nthe left; on the head, on the breast; they retreat; they advance; they\nmeasure swords; they close; they seize each other; they bend like\nserpents; they attack like lions; and the fire every moment flashes from\ntheir blows. At last Zadig, having recovered his spirits, stops; makes a\nfeint; leaps upon Otamus; throws him on the ground and disarms him; and\nOtamus cries out:\n\n\"It is thou alone, O white knight, that oughtest to reign over Babylon!\"\n\nThe queen was now at the height of her joy. The knight in blue armor,\nand the knight in white, were conducted each to his own apartment, as\nwell as all the others, according to the intention of the law. Mutes\ncame to wait upon them, and to serve them at table. It may be easily\nsupposed that the queen's little mute waited upon Zadig. They were then\nleft to themselves to enjoy the sweets of repose till next morning, at\nwhich time the conqueror was to bring his device to the grand magi, to\ncompare it with that which he had left, and make himself known.\n\nZadig, though deeply in love, was so much fatigued that he could not\nhelp sleeping. Itobad, who lay near him, never closed his eyes. He arose\nin the night, entered his apartment, took the white arms and the device\nof Zadig, and put his green armor in their place. At break of day, he\nwent boldly to the grand magi, to declare that so great a man as he was\nconqueror. This was little expected; however, he was proclaimed while\nZadig was still asleep. Astarte, surprised and filled with despair,\nreturned to Babylon. The amphitheatre was almost empty when Zadig awoke;\nhe sought for his arms but could find none but the green armor. With\nthis he was obliged to cover himself, having nothing else near him.\nAstonished and enraged, he put it on in a furious passion and advanced\nin this equipage.\n\nThe people that still remained in the amphitheatre and the circus\nreceived him with hoofs and hisses. They surrounded him, and insulted\nhim to his face. Never did man suffer such cruel mortifications. He lost\nhis patience; with his sabre he dispersed such of the populace as dared\nto affront him; but he knew not what course to take. He could not see\nthe queen; he could not claim the white armor she had sent him without\nexposing her; and thus, while she was plunged in grief, he was filled\nwith fury and distraction. He walked on the banks of the Euphrates,\nfully persuaded that his star had destined him to inevitable misery; and\nrevolving in his mind all his misfortunes, from the adventure of the\nwoman who hated one-eyed men, to that of his armor:\n\n\"This,\" said he, \"is the consequence of my having slept too long. Had I\nslept less, I should now have been king of Babylon, and in possession of\nAstarte. Knowledge, virtue, and courage, have hitherto served only to\nmake me miserable.\"\n\nHe then let fall some secret murmurings against providence, and was\ntempted to believe that the world was governed by a cruel destiny, which\noppressed the good, and prospered knights in green armor.\n\n\n\n\nXVIII.\n\nTHE HERMIT.\n\n\nOne of Zadig's greatest mortifications was his being obliged to wear\nthat green armor which had exposed him to such contumelious treatment.\nA merchant happening to pass by, he sold it to him for a trifle, and\nbought a gown and a long bonnet. In this garb he proceeded along the\nbanks of the Euphrates, filled with despair, and secretly accusing\nprovidence, which thus continued to persecute him with unremitting\nseverity.\n\nWhile he was thus sauntering along, he met a hermit whose white and\nvenerable beard hung down to his girdle. He held a book in his hand,\nwhich he read with great attention. Zadig stopped, and made him a\nprofound obeisance. The hermit returned the compliment with such a noble\nand engaging air, that Zadig had the curiosity to enter into\nconversation with him. He asked him what book it was that he had been\nreading.\n\n\"It is the book of destinies,\" said the hermit. \"Wouldst thou choose to\nlook into it?\"\n\nHe put the book into the hands of Zadig, who, thoroughly versed as he\nwas in several languages, could not decipher a single character of it.\nThis only redoubled his curiosity.\n\n\"Thou seemest,\" said the good father, \"to be in great distress.\"\n\n\"Alas!\" replied Zadig, \"I have but too much reason.\"\n\n\"If thou wilt permit me to accompany thee,\" resumed the old man,\n\"perhaps I may be of some service to thee. I have often poured the balm\nof consolation into the bleeding heart of the unhappy.\"\n\nZadig felt himself inspired with respect for the dignity, the beard, and\nthe book of the hermit. He found, in the course of the conversation,\nthat he was possessed of superior degrees of knowledge. The hermit\ntalked of fate, of justice, of morals, of the chief good, of human\nweakness, and of virtue and vice, with such a spirited and moving\neloquence, that Zadig felt himself drawn toward him by an irresistible\ncharm. He earnestly entreated the favor of his company till their return\nto Babylon.\n\n\"I ask the same favor of thee,\" said the old man. \"Swear to me by\nOromazes that, whatever I do, thou wilt not leave me for some days.\"\n\nZadig swore, and they set out together. In the evening the two travelers\narrived at a superb castle. The hermit entreated a hospitable reception\nfor himself and the young man who accompanied him. The porter, whom one\nmight have mistaken for a great lord, introduced them with a kind of\ndisdainful civility. He presented them to a principal domestic, who\nshowed them his master's magnificent apartments. They were admitted to\nthe lower end of the table, without being honored with the least mark of\nregard by the lord of the castle; but they were served, like the rest,\nwith delicacy and profusion. They were then presented, in a golden basin\nadorned with emeralds and rubies, with water to wash their hands. At\nlast they were conducted to bed in a beautiful apartment; and in the\nmorning a domestic brought each of them a piece of gold, after which\nthey took their leave and departed.\n\n\"The master of the house,\" said Zadig, as they were proceeding on the\njourney, \"appears to be a generous man, though somewhat too proud. He\nnobly performs the duties of hospitality.\"\n\nAt that instant he observed that a kind of large pocket, which the\nhermit had, was filled and distended; and upon looking more narrowly, he\nfound that it contained the golden basin adorned with precious stones,\nwhich the hermit had stolen. He durst not then take any notice of it;\nbut he was filled with a strange surprise.\n\nAbout noon the hermit came to the door of a paltry house, inhabited by a\nrich miser, and begged the favor of an hospitable reception for a few\nhours. An old servant, in a tattered garb, received them with a blunt\nand rude air, and led them into the stable, where he gave them some\nrotten olives, sour wine, and mouldy bread. The hermit ate and drank\nwith as much seeming satisfaction as he had done the evening before, and\nthen addressing himself to the old servant who watched them both to\nprevent them stealing anything, and had rudely pressed them to depart,\nhe gave him the two pieces of gold he had received in the morning, and\nthanked him for his great civility.\n\n\"Pray,\" added he, \"allow me to speak to thy master.\"\n\nThe servant, filled with astonishment, introduced the two travelers.\n\n\"Magnificent lord!\" said the hermit, \"I cannot but return thee my most\nhumble thanks for the noble manner in which thou hast entertained us. Be\npleased to accept of this golden basin as a small mark of my gratitude.\"\n\nThe miser started, and was ready to fall backwards; but the hermit,\nwithout giving him time to recover from his surprise, instantly departed\nwith his young fellow traveler.\n\n\"Father,\" said Zadig, \"what is the meaning of all this? Thou seemest to\nme to be entirely different from other men. Thou stealest a golden basin\nadorned with precious stones, from a lord who received thee\nmagnificently, and givest it to a miser who treats thee with\nindignity.\"\n\n\"Son,\" replied the old man, \"this magnificent lord, who receives\nstrangers only from vanity and ostentation, will hereby be rendered more\nwise; and the miser will learn to practice the duties of hospitality. Be\nsurprised at nothing, but follow me.\"\n\nZadig knew not as yet whether he was in company with the most foolish or\nthe most prudent of mankind' but the hermit spoke with such an\nascendency that Zadig, who was moreover bound by his oath, could not\nrefuse to follow him.\n\nIn the evening they arrived at a house built with equal elegance and\nsimplicity, where nothing savored either of prodigality or avarice. The\nmaster of it was a philosopher who had retired from the world, and who\ncultivated in peace the study of virtue and wisdom, without any of that\nrigid and morose severity so commonly found in men of his character. He\nhad chosen to build this fine house in which he received strangers with\na generosity free from ostentation. He went himself to meet the two\ntravelers, whom he led into a commodious apartment, and desired them to\nrepose themselves. Soon after he came and invited them to a decent and\nwell ordered repast, during which he spoke with great judgment of the\nlast revolutions in Babylon. He seemed to be strongly attached to the\nqueen, and wished that Zadig had appeared in the lists to contend for\nthe crown.\n\n\"But the people,\" added he, \"do not deserve to have such a king as\nZadig.\"\n\nZadig blushed and felt his griefs redoubled. They agreed, in the course\nof the conversation, that the things of this world did not always answer\nthe wishes of the wise. The hermit maintained that the ways of\nprovidence were inscrutable; and that men were in the wrong to judge of\na whole, of which they understood but the smallest part. They talked of\nthe passions.\n\n\"Ah,\" said Zadig, \"how fatal are their effects!\"\n\n\"They are the winds,\" replied the hermit, \"that swell the sails of the\nship; it is true, they sometimes sink her, but without them she could\nnot sail at all. The bile makes us sick and choleric but without the\nbile we could not live. Everything in this world is dangerous, and yet\neverything in it is necessary.\"\n\nThe conversation turned on pleasure; and the hermit proved that it was a\npresent bestowed by the deity.\n\n\"For,\" said he, \"man cannot either give himself sensations or ideas: he\nreceives all; and pain and pleasure proceed from a foreign cause as well\nas his being.\"\n\nZadig was surprised to see a man who had been guilty of such extravagant\nactions, capable of reasoning with so much judgment and propriety. At\nlast, after a conversation equally entertaining and instructive, the\nhost led back his two guests to their apartment, blessing heaven for\nhaving sent him two men possessed of so much wisdom and virtue. He\noffered them money with such an easy and noble air that it could not\npossibly give any offence. The hermit refused it, and said that he must\nnow take his leave of him, as he proposed to set out for Babylon in the\nmorning before it was light. Their parting was tender. Zadig especially\nfelt himself filled with esteem and affection for a man of such an\namiable character.\n\nWhen he and the hermit were alone in their apartment they spent a long\ntime in praising their host. At break of day the old man awakened his\ncompanion.\n\n\"We must now depart,\" said he; \"but while all the family are still\nasleep, I will leave this man a mark of my esteem and affection.\"\n\nSo saying he took a candle and set fire to the house. Zadig, struck with\nhorror, cried aloud, and endeavored to hinder him from committing such a\nbarbarous action; but the hermit drew him away by a superior force, and\nthe house was soon in flames. The hermit, who, with his companion, was\nalready at a considerable distance, looked back to the conflagration\nwith great tranquillity.\n\n\"Thanks be to God,\" said he, \"the house of my dear host is entirely\ndestroyed! Happy man!\"\n\nAt these words Zadig was at once tempted to burst out in laughing, to\nreproach the reverend father, to beat him, and to run away. But he did\nnone of all these; for still subdued by the powerful ascendancy of the\nhermit, he followed him, in spite of himself, to the next stage.\n\nThis was at the house of a charitable and virtuous widow, who had a\nnephew fourteen years of age, a handsome and promising youth, and her\nonly hope. She performed the honors of the house as well us she could.\nNext day, she ordered her nephew to accompany the strangers to a bridge,\nwhich being lately broken down, was become extremely dangerous in\npassing. The young man walked before them with great alacrity. As they\nwere crossing the bridge, the hermit said to the youth:\n\n\"Come, I must show my gratitude to thy aunt.\"\n\nHe then took him by the hair, and plunged him into the river. The boy\nsank, appeared again on the surface of the water, and was swallowed up\nby the current.\n\n\"O monster! O thou most wicked of mankind!\" cried Zadig.\n\n\"Thou promised to behave with greater patience,\" said the hermit,\ninterrupting him. \"Know, that under the ruins of that house which\nprovidence hath set on fire, the master hath found an immense treasure I\nknow, that this young man, whose life providence hath shortened, would\nhave assassinated his aunt in the space of a year, and thee in that of\ntwo.\"\n\n\"Who told thee so, barbarian?\" cried Zadig, \"and though thou hadst read\nthis event in thy book of destinies, art thou permitted to drown a youth\nwho never did thee any harm?\"\n\nWhile the Babylonian was thus exclaiming, he observed that the old man\nhad no longer a beard, and that his countenance assumed the features and\ncomplexion of youth. The hermit's habit disappeared, and four beautiful\nwings covered a majestic body resplendent with light.\n\n\"O sent of heaven! O divine angel!\" cried Zadig, humbly prostrating\nhimself on the ground, \"Hast thou then descended from the empyrean to\nteach a weak mortal to submit to the eternal decrees of providence?\"\n\n\"Men,\" said the angel Jesrad, \"judge of all without knowing any thing;\nand, of all men, thou best deservest to be enlightened.\"\n\nZadig begged to be permitted to speak:\n\n\"I distrust myself,\" said he, \"but may I presume to ask the favor of\nthee to clear up one doubt that still remains in my mind. Would it not\nhave been better to have corrected this youth, and made him virtuous,\nthan to have drowned him?\"\n\n[Illustration: The hermit.]\n\n     The poem, called _The Hermit_, by Thomas Parnell, D.D., expresses\n     views in regard to providence similar to those of Voltaire. The\n     same thoughts may also be found in the _Divine Dialogues_ of Henry\n     Moore. Indeed this \"tale to prose-men known to verse-men fam'd,\"\n     has been used by many authors. Pope says \"the story was written\n     originally in Spanish;\" Goldsmith, in his _Life of Parnell_,\n     intimates that it was originally of Arabian invention, while, in\n     fact, it seems to bear internal evidence of Persian or Hindoo\n     origin.--E.\n\n\"Had he become virtuous,\" replied Jesrad, \"and enjoyed a longer life, it\nwould have been his fate to have been assassinated himself, together\nwith the wife he would have married, and the child he would have had by\nher.\"\n\n\"But why,\" said Zadig, \"is it necessary that there should be crimes and\nmisfortunes, and that these misfortunes should fall on the good?\"\n\n\"The wicked,\" replied Jesrad, \"are always unhappy. They serve to prove\nand try the small number of the just that are scattered through the\nearth; and there is no evil that is not productive of some good.\"\n\n\"But,\" said Zadig, \"suppose there was nothing but good and no evil at\nall.\"\n\n\"Then,\" replied Jesrad, \"this earth would be another earth: the chain of\nevents would be ranged in another order and directed by wisdom. But this\nother order, which would be perfect, can exist only in the eternal abode\nof the Supreme Being, to which no evil can approach. The Deity hath\ncreated millions of worlds, among which there is not one that resembles\nanother. This immense variety is the effect of his immense power. There\nare not two leaves among the trees of the earth, nor two globes in the\nunlimited expanse of heaven, that are exactly similar; and all that thou\nseest on the little atom in which thou art born, ought to be, in its\nproper time and place, according to the immutable decrees of him who\ncomprehends all. Men think that this child, who hath just perished, is\nfallen into the water by chance; and that it is by the same chance that\nthis house is burned. But there is no such thing as chance. All is\neither a trial, or a punishment, or a reward, or a foresight. Remember\nthe fisherman, who thought himself the most wretched of mankind.\nOromazes sent thee to change his fate. Cease then, frail mortal, to\ndispute against what thou oughtest to adore.\"\n\n\"But,\" said Zadig--\n\nAs he pronounced the word \"But,\" the angel took his flight toward the\ntenth sphere. Zadig on his knees adored providence, and submitted. The\nangel cried to him from on high:\n\n\"Direct thy course toward Babylon.\"\n\n\n\n\nXIX.\n\nTHE ENIGMAS.\n\n\nZadig, entranced as it were, and like a man about whose head the thunder\nhad burst, walked at random. He entered Babylon on the very day when\nthose who had fought at the tournaments were assembled in the grand\nvestibule of the palace to explain the enigmas, and to answer the\nquestions of the grand magi. All the knights were already present,\nexcept the knight in green armor. As soon as Zadig appeared in the city,\nthe people crowded around him; every eye was fixed on him, every mouth\nblessed him, and every heart wished him the empire. The envious man saw\nhim pass; he frowned and turned aside. The people conducted him to the\nplace where the assembly was held. The queen, when informed of his\narrival, became a prey to the most violent agitations of hope and fear.\nShe was filled with anxiety and apprehension. She could not comprehend\nwhy Zadig was without arms, nor why Itobad wore the white armor.\n\nWhen the knights who had fought were directed to appear in the assembly,\nZadig said. \"I have fought as well as the other knights, but another\nhere wears my arms; and while I wait for the honor of proving the truth\nof my assertion, I demand the liberty of presenting myself to explain\nthe enigmas.\"\n\nThe question was put to vote, and his reputation for probity was so well\nestablished, that they admitted him without scruple.\n\nThe first question proposed by the grand magi, was: \"What, of all things\nin the world, is the longest and the shortest, the swiftest and the\nslowest, the most divisible and the most extended, the most neglected\nand the most regretted, without which nothing can be done, which devours\nall that is little, and enlivens all that is great?\"\n\nItobad was to speak. He replied, that so great a man as he did not\nunderstand enigmas; and that it was sufficient for him to have conquered\nby his strength and valor. Some said that the meaning of the enigma was\nfortune; some, the earth; and others, the light. Zadig said that it was\ntime.\n\n\"Nothing,\" added he, \"is longer, since it is the measure of eternity.\nNothing is shorter, since it is insufficient for the accomplishment of\nour projects. Nothing more slow to him that expects, nothing more rapid\nto him that enjoys. In greatness it extends to infinity, in smallness it\nis infinitely divisible. All men neglect it, all regret the loss of it;\nnothing can be done without it. It consigns to oblivion whatever is\nunworthy of being transmitted to posterity, and it immortalizes such\nactions as are truly great.\"\n\nThe assembly acknowledged that Zadig was in the right.\n\nThe next question was: \"What is the thing which we receive without\nthanks, which we enjoy without knowing how, and which we lose without\nperceiving it?\"\n\nEvery one gave his own explanation. Zadig alone guessed that it was\nlife; and he explained all the other enigmas with the same facility.\nItobad always said that nothing was more easy, and that he could have\nanswered them with the same readiness, had he chosen to have given\nhimself the trouble. Questions were then proposed on justice, on the\nsovereign good, and on the art of government. Zadig's answers were\njudged to be the most solid, and the people exclaimed:\n\n\"What a pity it is, that so great a genius should be so bad a knight!\"\n\n\"Illustrious lords,\" said Zadig, \"I have had the honor of conquering in\nthe tournaments. It is to me that the white armor belongs. Lord Itobad\ntook possession of it during my sleep. He probably thought it would fit\nhim better than the green. I am now ready to prove in your presence,\nwith my gown and sword, against all that beautiful white armor which he\ntook from me, that it is I who have had the honor of conquering the\nbrave of Otamus.\"\n\nItobad accepted the challenge with the greatest confidence. He never\ndoubted but that, armed as he was with a helmet, a cuirass, and\nbrassarts, he would obtain an easy victory over a champion in a cap and\na night-gown. Zadig drew his sword, saluting the queen, who looked at\nhim with a mixture of fear and joy. Itobad drew his, without saluting\nany one. He rushed upon Zadig, like a man who had nothing to fear; he\nwas ready to cleave him in two. Zadig knew how to ward off his blows, by\nopposing the strongest part of his sword to the weakest of that of his\nadversary, in such a manner that Itobad's sword was broken. Upon which\nZadig, seizing his enemy by the waist, threw him on the ground; and\nfixing the point of his sword at the extremity of his breast-plate,\nexclaimed: \"Suffer thyself to be disarmed, or thou art a dead man.\"\n\nItobad greatly surprised at the disgrace that happened to such a man as\nhe, was obliged to yield to Zadig, who took from him with great\ncomposure, his magnificent helmet, his superb cuirass, his fine\nbrassarts, his shining cuisses; clothed himself with them, and in this\ndress ran to throw himself at the feet of Astarte. Cador easily proved\nthat the armor belonged to Zadig. He was acknowledged king by the\nunanimous consent of the whole nation, and especially by that of\nAstarte, who, after so many calamities, now tasted the exquisite\npleasure of seeing her lover worthy, in the eyes of the world, to be her\nhusband. Itobad went home to be called lord in his own house. Zadig was\nking, and was happy. He recollected what the angel Jesrad had said to\nhim. He even remembered the grain of sand that became a diamond. He sent\nin search of the robber Arbogad, to whom he gave an honorable post in\nhis army, promising to advance him to the first dignities, if he behaved\nlike a true warrior; and threatening to hang him, if he followed the\nprofession of a robber.\n\nSetoc, with the fair Almona, was called from the heart of Arabia, and\nplaced at the head of the commerce of Babylon. Cador was preferred and\ndistinguished according to his great services. He was the friend of the\nking; and the king was then the only monarch on earth that had a friend.\nThe little mute was not forgotten. A fine house was given to the\nfisherman; and Orcan was condemned to pay him a large sum of money, and\nto restore him his wife; but the fisherman, who had now become wise,\ntook only the money.\n\nThe beautiful Semira could not be comforted for having believed that\nZadig would be blind of an eye; nor did Azora cease to lament her\nattempt to cut off his nose: their griefs, however, he softened by his\npresents. The capricious beauty, Missouf, was left unnoticed. The\nenvious man died of rage and shame. The empire enjoyed peace, glory, and\nplenty. This was the happiest age of the earth. It was governed by love\nand justice. The people blessed Zadig, and Zadig blessed heaven.\n\n\n[Illustration: Freind and his wayward son.]\n\n\n\nTHE SAGE AND THE ATHEIST.\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION.\n\n\nYou request me, sir, to give you some account of our worthy friend, and\nhis singular son. The leisure that the retirement of Lord Peterborough\nnow affords me, places it in my power to oblige you. You will be as\nastonished as I was, and perhaps adopt my opinion on the subject.\n\nYou scarcely knew the young and unfortunate Johnny, Freind's only son,\nwhom his father took with him to Spain when he received the appointment\nof chaplain to our armies, in 1705. You started for Aleppo, before my\nlord besieged Barcelona; yet you were right when you said, John's\ncountenance was amiable and interesting, and that he gave proofs of\nintelligence and courage. It was quite true. Every one who knew him,\nloved him. At first he was intended for the church; but, as he\nmanifested much aversion for that profession, which, indeed, requires\ngreat skill, management, and finesse, his prudent father considered it a\nfolly and a crime to oppose his inclination.\n\nJohn was not twenty years old when he assisted, as a volunteer, at the\nattack on Mont-Joui, which was captured, and where the Prince of Hesse\nlost his life. Our poor Johnny was wounded, taken prisoner, and carried\ninto the town. The following is an account of his adventures from the\nattack of Mont-Joui till the taking of Barcelona. It is as told by a\nCatalonian lady, a little too free and too simple. Such stories do not\nfind a way to the hearts of your wise men. I received it from her when I\nentered Barcelona in the suite of Lord Peterborough. You must read it\nwithout offence, as a true description of the manners of the country.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\nADVENTURES OF JOHNNY, A YOUNG ENGLISHMAN. WRITTEN BY DONNA LAS NALGAS.\n\n\nWhen we were informed that the same savages who came through the air to\nseize on Gibraltar, were come to besiege our beautiful Barcelona, we\nbegan to offer prayers at Notre Dame de Manreze--assuredly the best mode\nof defence.\n\nThese people, who come from so far, are called by a name very hard to\npronounce, that is, English. Our reverend father inquisitor, Don\nJeronimo Bueno Caracucarador, preached against these brigands. He\nanathematized them in Notre Dame d'Elpino. He assured us that the\nEnglish had monkey-tails, bears' paws, and parrot-heads; that they\nsometimes spoke like men, but invariably made a great hissing; that they\nwere moreover notorious heretics; that though the Blessed Virgin was\noften indulgent to poor sinners, she never forgave heretics, and that\nconsequently they would all be infallibly exterminated, especially if\nthey presumed to appear before Mont-Joui. He had scarcely finished his\nsermon when he heard that Mont-Joui was taken by storm.\n\nThe same evening we learned that a young Englishman, who had been\nwounded in the assault, was our prisoner. Throughout the town arose\ncries of victory! victory! And the illuminations were very general.\n\nDonna Boca Vermeja, who had the honor to be the reverend inquisitor's\nfavorite, was very desirous to see what the English animal and heretic\nwas like. She was my intimate friend. I shared her curiosity. We were\noblished to wait till his wound was cured; and this did not take very\nlong.\n\n[Illustration: Don Jeronimo Bueno Caracucarador.]\n\nSoon after, we learned that he was in the habit of visiting daily at the\nresidence of Elbob, my cousin german, who, as every one knows, is the\nbest surgeon in the town. My friend Boca Vermeja's impatience to see\nthis singular monster increased two-fold. We had no rest ourselves, and\ngave none to our cousin, the surgeon, till he allowed us to conceal\nourselves in a small closet, which we entered on tiptoe without saying a\nword and scarcely venturing to breathe, just as the Englishman arrived.\nHis face was not turned toward us. He took off a small cap which\nenclosed his light hair, which then fell in thick curls down the finest\nneck I ever beheld. His form presented a plumpness, a finish, an\nelegance, approaching, in my opinion, the Apollo Belvidere at Rome--a\ncopy of which my uncle the sculptor possesses.\n\nDonna Boca Vermeja was transported with surprise, and delighted. I\nshared her ecstacy, and could not forbear exclaiming: \"O che hermoso\nMuchacho!\"\n\nThese words made the young man turn round. We then saw the face of an\nAdonis on the body of a young Hercules. Donna Boca Vermeja nearly fell\nbackwards at the sight:\n\n\"St. James!\" she exclaimed, \"Holy Virgin! is it possible heretics are\nsuch fine men? How we have been deceived about them.\"\n\nDonna Boca was soon violently in love with the heretical monster. She is\nhandsomer than I am, I must confess; and I must also confess that I\nbecame doubly jealous of her on that account. I took care to show her\nthat to forsake the reverend father inquisitor, Don Jeronimo Bueno\nCaracucarador, for an Englishman, would be a crime falling nothing short\nof damnation.\n\n\"Ah! my dear Las Nalgas,\" she said, (Las Nalgas is my name) \"I would\nforsake Melchizedek himself for so fine a young man.\"\n\nOne of the inquisitors who attended four masses daily, to obtain from\nOur Lady of Manreze the destruction of the English, heard of our\nadmiration. The Reverend Father Don Caracucarador whipped us both, and\nhad our dear Englishman arrested by twenty-four Alguazils of St.\nHermandad. Johnny killed four; and was at length captured by the\nremaining twenty. He was confined in a very damp cellar, and sentenced\nto be burnt the following Sunday, in full ceremony, clothed in a\nSan-b\u00e9nito, wearing a sugar-loaf cap, in honor of our Savior and the\nVirgin Mary, his mother. Don Caracucarador prepared a fine sermon, but\nhad no occasion for it, as the town was taken at four o'clock on the\nSunday morning.\n\nHere Donna Las Nalgas's tale terminates. This lady was not without a\ndescription of wit, which in Spain we call agud\u00e9za.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\nCONTINUATION OF THE ADVENTURES OF JOHN, THE YOUNG ENGLISHMAN; ALSO THOSE\nOF HIS WORTHY FATHER, D.D., M.P., AND F.R.S.\n\n\nYou know the skillful conduct of the Earl of Peterborough after he took\nBarcelona, how successfully he prevented pillage, restored order, and\nrescued the Duchess of Popoli from the hands of some drunken Germans,\nwho robbed and abused her. Conceive the surprise, grief, rage, and\ntears, of our friend Freind, on learning that John was confined in the\ndungeons of the holy inquisition, and condemned to the stake. You know\nthat cold temperaments are frequently most energetic when great events\ncall them into action. You should have seen this distracted father, whom\nyou were accustomed to think imperturbable, fly to the dungeon of his\nson more rapidly than the horses at Newmarket hasten to the goal. The\nfifty soldiers who went with him were soon out of breath, and always a\nhundred paces behind. At length he reached the cell and entered it. What\na scene! what tears! what joy! Twenty victims, devoted to the same\nceremony, are delivered. All the prisoners take arms and fight with our\nsoldiers. The buildings of the holy office are destroyed in ten minutes,\nand they breakfasted beside the ruins, on the wine and ham of the\ninquisitors.\n\n[Illustration: Condemned by the Inquisition.--He was confined to a very\ndamp cellar, and sentenced to be burnt the following Sunday, in full\nceremony, clothed in a San-b\u00e9nito, wearing a sugar-loaf cap, in honor of\nour Savior and the Virgin Mary, his mother.]\n\nIn the midst of the roar of cannon, the sound of trumpets and drums,\nannouncing our victory to Catalonia, our friend Freind recovered his\naccustomed tranquillity of manner. He was as calm as the sky after a day\nof storm. He was raising to God a heart as serene as his countenance,\nwhen he perceived a black spectral figure, clad in a surplice, issue\nfrom a vault, and fall at his feet, crying for mercy.\n\n\"Who are you?\" said our friend. \"Do you come from Hades?\"\n\n\"Almost,\" rejoined the other. \"I am Don Jeronimo Bueno Caracucarador,\ninquisitor. I solicit most humbly your forgiveness for wishing to roast\nyour son in public. I took him for a Jew.\"\n\n\"Supposing that to be the case,\" said our friend with his customary sang\nfroid, \"does it become you, Se\u00f1or Caracucarador, to roast people alive\nbecause they are descended from a sect that formerly inhabited a rocky\ncanton near the Syrian desert? What does it matter to you whether a man\nis circumcised or not? that he observe Easter at the full of the moon,\nor on the following Sunday? It is very bad reasoning to say, 'That man\nis a Jew; therefore I must have him burnt, and take his property.' The\nRoyal Society of London do not reason in that way.\n\n\"Do you know, Se\u00f1or Caracucarador, that Jesus Christ was a Jew--that he\nwas born, lived, and died a Jew? that he observed the passover like a\nJew, at the full of the moon? that all his apostles were Jews? that they\nwent to the temple after his death, as we are expressly told? that the\nfirst fifteen secret bishops of Jerusalem were Jews? But my son is no\nJew; he belongs to the established church. How came it into your head to\nburn him alive?\"\n\nThe inquisitor, overawed by the learning of Monsieur Freind, and still\nprostrate at his feet, replied:\n\n\"Alas! sir, we know nothing about this at the University of Salamanca.\nForgive me, once more. The true reason is, your son took from me my\nfavorite, Donna Boca Vermeja.\"\n\n\"Ah! if he took your favorite, that's another thing. We should never\ntake 'our neighbor's goods.' That is not, however, a sufficient reason\nfor burning a young man to death. As Leibnitz says, 'The punishment\nshould be in proportion to the crime.' You Christians on the other side\nof the British Channel, especially toward the South, make no more of\nroasting each other, be it the Counsellor Dubourg, M. Servetus, or those\nwho were burned in the reign of Philippe II., surnamed El Discreto, than\nwe do of roasting a joint of beef in London. But bring Miss Boca Vermeja\nbefore me, that I may learn the truth from her own mouth.\"\n\nBoca Vermeja appeared weeping, looking the handsomer for her tears, as\nwomen generally do.\n\n\"Is it true, Miss, that you are devotedly attached to M. Caracucarador,\nand that my son has abducted you?\"\n\n\"Abducted me? The English gentleman! I never met with any one so amiable\nand good-looking as your son. You are very fortunate in being his\nfather. I could follow him to the world's end. I always hated that ugly\ninquisitor, who whipped me and Mademoiselle Las Nalgas till he nearly\nbrought blood. If you wish to make me happy, you will cause the old\nfellow to be hanged at my bedroom window.\"\n\nJust as Boca Vermeja was thus speaking, the Earl of Peterborough sent\nfor the inquisitor Caracucarador, to have him hanged. You will not be\nsurprised to hear that Mr. Freind firmly opposed this measure.\n\n\"Let your just displeasure,\" said he, \"give way to generous feelings. A\nman should never be put to death but when it is absolutely necessary for\nthe safety of others. The Spaniards say the English are barbarians, who\nkill all the priests that come in their way. This might have injured the\ncause of the arch-duke, for whom you have taken Barcelona. I have\nsufficient satisfaction in rescuing my son, and putting it out of the\npower of this rascally monk to exercise his inquisitorial functions.\"\n\nIn a word, the wise and charitable Freind was contented with getting\nCaracucarador flogged, as he had whipped Miss Boca Vermeja and Miss Las\nNalgas.\n\nSuch clemency affected the Catalonians. The persons rescued from the\ninquisition felt that our religion was better than theirs. Nearly all\nrequested to be admitted members of the established church; even some\nbachelors of the University of Salamanca, who chanced to be at\nBarcelona, requested instruction. The greater part soon became\nenlightened, with the exception of a certain Don Inigo-y-Medroso,\ny-Comodios, y-Papalamiendos, who obstinately adhered to his opinions.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\nSUMMARY OF THE CONTROVERSY OF THE \"BUTS,\" BETWEEN MR. FREIND AND DON\nINIGO-Y-MEDROSO, Y-COMODIOS, Y-PAPALAMIENDOS, BACHELOR OF SALAMANCA.\n\n\nThe following is a summary of the pleasant disputation, which our dear\nfriend Freind and the Bachelor Don Papalamiendos held, in the presence\nof the Earl of Peterborough. This familiar conversation was called the\ndialogue of the \"Buts.\" As you read it you will discover why.\n\nTHE BACHELOR.--But, sir, notwithstanding all the fine things you have\nsaid, you must admit that your respectable established church did not\nexist before the time of Don Luther and Don Ecolampade; consequently, it\nis quite new, and can hardly be said to belong to the family.\n\nFREIND.--You might as well say I am not a descendant of my grandfather,\nbecause another branch of the family, living in Italy, seized on his\nwill, and my claims. I have fortunately found them again; and it is now\nquite clear that I am my grandfather's grandson. You and I are, as it\nwere, of the same family; but with this difference. We read our\ngrandfather's testament in our mother tongue, while you are forbidden to\nread it in yours. You are the slaves of a foreigner; we listen to the\ndictates of reason.\n\nTHE BACHELOR.--But suppose your reason should lead you astray? For, in a\nword, you have no faith in our University of Salamanca, which has\ndeclared the infallibility of the pope, and his indisputable control of\nthe past, the present, the future, and the paulo-post-future.\n\nFREIND.--Neither did the apostles. It is written that Peter, who denied\nhis master Jesus, was severely rebuked by Paul. I have not examined the\ncase to see which was in the wrong; perhaps, as is the case in most\ndisputes, neither was right; but I do not find one passage in the Acts\nof the Apostles to prove that Peter was considered the master of his\ncompanions, and of the paulo-post-future.\n\nTHE BACHELOR.--But St. Peter was certainly archbishop of Rome; for\nSanchez tells us that this great man came there in the reign of Nero,\nand filled the archbishop's throne twenty-five years under the same\nNero, who only reigned thirteen. Besides, it is a matter of faith, and\nDon Gullandus, the prototype of the inquisition, affirms it (for we\nnever read the Holy Bible), that St. Peter was at Rome during a certain\nyear, for he dates one of his letters from Babylon. Now, since Babylon\nis visibly the anagram of Rome, it is clear that the pope by divine\nright is lord of the world; moreover, all the licentiates of Salamanca\nhave shown that Simon Grace-of-God, first sorcerer and counsellor of\nstate at the court of Nero, sent his compliments by his dog to Simon\nBarjona, otherwise called St. Peter, as soon as he came to Rome; that\nSt. Peter, who was scarcely less polite, sent also his dog to compliment\nSimon Grace-of-God; and then they diverted themselves by trying which\ncould soonest raise from the dead a cousin german of Nero's; that\nGrace-of-God only succeeded in effecting a partial restoration, while\nBarjona won the game by wholly restoring the dead man to life; that\nGrace-of-God sought to have his revenge by flying through the air like\nSaint D\u00e6dalus; and that Barjona broke his legs, by making him fall. On\nthis account St. Peter received the Martyr's crown, being crucified with\nhis heels upward. Therefore we have proved that his holiness the pope\nought to reign over all who wear crowns; that he is lord of the past,\nthe present, and of all the futures in the world.\n\nFREIND.--It is clear these things happened in the days when Hercules\nseparated at a stroke the two mountains Calpe and Abyla, and crossed the\nstraits of Gibraltar in his goblet. But it is not on such histories,\nhowever authentic they may be, that we base our religion. We found it on\nthe gospel.\n\nTHE BACHELOR.--But, sir, on what passages of the gospel? I have read a\nportion of the gospel in our theological tracts. Do you base it on the\ndescent of the angel to announce to the Virgin Mary that she had\nconceived by the Holy Ghost? On the journey of the three kings after the\nstar? On the massacre of all the children of the country? On the trouble\nthe devil took to carry God into the wilderness, to place him on a\npinnacle of the temple, and on the summit of a mountain from whence he\nbeheld all the kingdoms of the world? On the miracle of water changed\ninto wine at a village wedding? On the miracle of two thousand pigs\ndrowned by the devil in a lake at the command of Jesus? On--?\n\nFREIND.--Sir, we respect these things because they are in the gospel;\nbut we never speak of them, because they are too far above our weak\nhuman reason.\n\nTHE BACHELOR.--But they say you never call the Holy Virgin, Mother of\nGod?\n\nFREIND.--We revere and cherish her. But we think she cares very little\nfor the titles given her in this world. She is never styled the Mother\nof God in the gospel. In the year 431, there was a great dispute at the\ncouncil of Ephesus to ascertain if Mary was Theotocos; and if Jesus\nChrist, being at the same time God and the son of Mary, Mary could be at\nthe same time mother of God the Father and God the Son. We do not enter\ninto these disputes of Ephesus. The Royal Society at London does not\nconcern itself with such controversies.\n\nTHE BACHELOR.--But, sir, you talk of Theotocos. What may Theotocos mean,\nif you please?\n\nFREIND.--It means Mother of God. What, are you a Bachelor of Salamanca,\nand don't understand Greek?\n\nTHE BACHELOR.--But Greek! Of what use can Greek be to a Spaniard? But,\nsir, do you believe that Jesus Christ has one nature, one person, and\none will; or two natures, two persons, and two wills; or, one will, one\nnature, and two persons; or, two wills, two persons and one nature;\nor,--?\n\nFREIND.--This, also, belongs to the Ephesian controversy and does not\nconcern us.\n\nTHE BACHELOR.--But what does concern you, then? Do you suppose there are\nonly three persons in God, or that there are three Gods in one person?\nDoes the second person proceed from the first person, and the third from\nthe two others, or from the second _intrinsecus_, or only from the\nfirst? Has the father all the attributes of the son except paternity?\nAnd does the third person proceed by infusion, by identification, or by\nspiration?\n\nFREIND.--This question is not mooted in the gospel. St. Paul never wrote\nthe name of the Trinity.\n\nTHE BACHELOR.--But, you always refer to the gospel, and never make\nmention of St. Bonaventura, of Albert the Great, of Tambourini, of\nGullandus, of Escobar.\n\nFREIND.--Because I do not call myself a Dominican, a Franciscan, or a\nJesuit. I am satisfied with being a Christian.\n\nTHE BACHELOR.--But if you are a Christian, tell me if you\nconscientiously think the rest of mankind will be damned?\n\nFREIND.--It does not become me to limit the compassion or the justice of\nGod.\n\nTHE BACHELOR.--But to come to the point, if you are a Christian, what do\nyou believe?\n\nFREIND.--I believe with Jesus Christ that we ought to love God and our\nneighbor, forgive our enemies, and do good for evil. These are the\nmaxims of Jesus. So true are they, that no legislator, no philosopher,\never had other principles before him, and it is impossible that there\ncan be any other. These truths never have and never can meet with\ncontradiction, save from our passions.\n\nTHE BACHELOR.--But, in regard to the passions, is it true that your\nbishops, priests, and deacons are all married?\n\nFREIND.--Quite true. St. Joseph, who passed for the father of Jesus, was\nmarried. James the Less, surnamed Oblia, brother of our Lord, was his\nson, who, after the death of Jesus, spent his life in the temple. St.\nPaul--the great St. Paul--was a married man.\n\nTHE BACHELOR.--But Grillandus and Molina assert the contrary.\n\nFREIND.--Let them say what they please, I prefer believing St. Paul\nhimself on the subject. In _I. Corinthians, ix: 4-7._ he says: \"Have we\nnot power to eat and to drink? Have we not power to lead about a sister,\na wife, as well as other apostles, and as the brethren of the lord, and\nCephas. Or I only and Barnabas, have we not power to forbear working?\nWho goeth a warfare at any time at his own charges? Who planteth a\nvineyard and eateth not of the fruit thereof?\"\n\nTHE BACHELOR.--But, sir, did St. Paul really say that?\n\nFREIND.--Yes, he said that and very much more.\n\nTHE BACHELOR.--But, really, that prodigy of the efficacy of grace?--\n\nFREIND.--It is true, sir, that his conversion was a great miracle. I\nadmit, from the _Acts of the Apostles_, that he was the most cruel\nsatellite of the enemies of Jesus. The _Acts_ say that he assisted at\nthe stoning of Stephen. He admits himself, that when the Jews condemned\nto death a follower of Christ, he would see to the execution of the\nsentence, \"detuli sententiam\", I admit that Abdia, his disciple, and the\ntranslator Julius, the African, accused him of putting to death James\nOblia, the brother of our Lord; but his persecutions increase the wonder\nof his conversion, and by no means prevented his having a wife. I assure\nyou he was married. St. Clement of Alexandria expressly declares it.\n\nTHE BACHELOR.--But St. Paul, then, was a worthy man of God! Really, I am\ngrieved to think he assassinated St. Stephen, and St. James, and am\nsurprised to find he traveled to the third heaven. But pray continue.\n\nFREIND.--We gather from St. Clement of Alexandria that St. Peter had\nchildren; one St. Petronilla is mentioned among them. Eusebius, in his\n_History of the Church_ says that St. Nicolas, one of the first\ndisciples, had a very handsome wife; and that the disciples blamed him\nfor being over-fond and jealous. \"Sirs,\" said he, \"let any one take her\nwho likes; I give her to you.\"\n\nIn the Jewish economy, which should have lasted for ever, but to which\nnevertheless the Christian dispensation succeeded, marriage was not only\npermitted, but expressly enjoined on priests, since they were always of\nthe same race. Celibacy was considered infamous.\n\nIt is certain that celibacy could not have been considered a very pure\nand honorable state by the first Christians, since we find among the\nbishops excommunicated by the first councils, chiefly those who oppose\nthe marriage of priests; such as Saturnians, Basilidians, Montanists,\nEncrasists, and other ans and ists. This accounts for the wife of\nGregory of Nazianze bearing another Gregory of Nazianze, and enjoying\nthe inestimable felicity of being at one and the same time the wife and\nmother of a canonized saint,--a privilege which even St. Monica, the\nmother of St. Augustin, did not enjoy.\n\nBy the same reason I might name as many and even more of the ancient\nbishops who were married, and account for your not having had in the\nearlier ages of the church bishops and popes who indulged in\nfornication, adultery, and even worse crimes. Things are not so now.\nThis is also the reason why the Greek church, the mother of the Latin\nchurch, allows priests to marry. In a word, the reason why I myself am\nmarried, and have a son, as fine a fellow as you can wish to see.\n\nBesides, my dear bachelor, have you not in your church seven sacraments\nwhich are outward signs of things invisible? Does not a bachelor of\nSalamanca enjoy the advantage of baptism as soon as he comes into the\nworld; of confirmation as soon as he has committed a few follies or\nunderstands those of others; of communion, though a little different\nfrom ours, when he is fourteen years of age; of holy orders, when they\nshave the crown of his head and give him a living of twenty, thirty, or\nforty thousand piastres; and lastly of extreme unction, when he is ill?\nMust he then be deprived of the sacrament of marriage, when he is in\nhealth? Especially when God united Adam and Eve in marriage: Adam, the\nfirst bachelor in the world, since, according to your schools, he had\nknowledge by infusion; Eve, the first _female_ bachelor, since she\ntasted the tree of knowledge before her husband.\n\nTHE BACHELOR.--But, if things are so, I may cease my \"Buts.\" This is\ncertain, I adopt your religion; I will belong to the established church\nof England; will marry an honest woman, who at least will pretend to\nlove me while I am young, take care of me when I grow old, and whom I\nwill bury decently, should I survive her. I think this is better than\nroasting men and enticing girls after the fashion of my cousin Don\nCaracucarador, the inquisitor of the faith.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThis is a faithful summary of the conversation between Mr. Freind and\nthe Bachelor Don Papalamiendos, since called by us Papa Dexando. This\ncurious dialogue was drawn up by Jacob Hull, one of my lord's\nsecretaries.\n\nAfter this conversation the Bachelor took me aside and said:\n\n\"This Englishman, whom I took at first for an anthropagus, must be a\nvery good man; for he is a theologian and can keep his temper.\"\n\nI informed him that Mr. Freind was tolerant, or a quaker, and a\ndescendant of the daughter of William Penn, who founded Philadelphia.\n\"Quaker, Philadelphia,\" he cried, \"I never heard of those sects.\"\n\nI gave him some information on the subject. He could scarcely believe\nme. It seemed to him like another universe. And, indeed, he was in the\nright.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\nJOHN RETURNS TO LONDON, AND IS LED INTO BAD COMPANY.\n\n\nWhile our worthy philosopher Freind was enlightening the priests of\nBarcelona, and his son John delighting the ladies, Lord Peterborough\nlost all favor with the queen and arch-duke for seizing Barcelona for\nthem. The courtiers censured him for taking the city contrary to all\nrule, with an army less strong by half than the garrison. At first the\narch-duke was highly incensed; and our friend was obliged to print an\napology for the general. Yet this arch-duke, who had come to conquer\nSpain, had not the worth of his chocolate. All Queen Anne had given him\nwas squandered.\n\nMontecuculi, in his _Memoirs_, says three things are necessary to\nmaintain a war; 1st, money, 2nd, money, and 3rd, money. The arch-duke\nwrote from Guadalaxara, where he was on the 11th of August, 1706, to\nLord Peterborough, a long letter signed \"Yo el Rey,\" in which he begged\nhim to hasten to Genoa and raise on credit \u00a3100,000. So our Sartorius,\nfrom general of an army, thus became a Genoese banker. He communicated\nhis distress to our friend Freind. They started for Genoa. I went with\nthem, for you know my heart leads me thither. I admired the skill and\nspirit of conciliation my friend displayed in this delicate business. I\nsaw at once that intelligence may meet every exigency. Our great Locke\nwas a physician; he became the first metaphysician in Europe, and\nrestored the value of the British coinage. In three days Freind raised\nthe \u00a3100,000; but the court of Charles the VI. contrived to squander it\nin three weeks. After this, the general, accompanied by his theologian,\nwas obliged to repair to London to justify himself before the parliament\nfor conquering Catalonia against all rule, and for ruining himself in\nthe common cause. The affair was protracted and vexatious, as are all\nparty disputes.\n\nYou know that Mr. Freind was a member of parliament before he became a\npriest; and he is the only person who has been allowed to combine\nfunctions so opposed. One day, when Freind was thinking over a speech he\nintended to deliver in the house (of which he was a most respectable\nmember), a Spanish lady was announced as desirous of seeing him on\nparticular business. It was Donna Boca Vermeja herself, and in tears.\nOur good friend ordered a luncheon. She took some refreshment, dried her\neyes, and thus began:\n\n\"You will remember, sir, when you went to Genoa, you ordered your son\nJohn to leave Barcelona for London, and to commence his duties as a\nclerk in the exchequer, a post which your influence had obtained for\nhim. He embarked in the Triton with a young bachelor of arts, Don Papa\nDexando, and others whom you had converted. You may well suppose that I,\nwith my dear friend Las Nalgas, accompanied them.\"\n\nBoca Vermeja then told him, again shedding tears, how John was jealous,\nor affected to be jealous, of the bachelor,--how a certain Madame\nClive-Hart, a very bold, spiteful, masculine, young married lady, had\nenslaved his mind,--how he lived with libertines who had no fear of\nGod,--how, in a word, he neglected Boca Vermeja for the artful\nClive-Hart; and all because Clive-Hart had a little more red and white\nin her complexion than poor Boca Vermeja.\n\n\"I will look into the matter at leisure,\" said the worthy Mr. Freind. \"I\nmust now attend parliament, to look after Lord Peterborough's business.\"\n\nAccordingly, to parliament he went; where I heard him deliver a firm and\nconcise discourse, free from commonplace epithets, and circumlocutions.\nHe never _invoked_ a law or a testimony. He quoted, enforced, and\napplied them. He did not say they had taken the religion of the court by\nsurprise, by accusing lord Peterborough of exposing Queen Anne's troops\nto risk; because it had nothing to do with religion. He did not call a\nconjecture a demonstration, nor forget his respect to an august\nparliament, by using common jokes. He did not call Lord Peterborough his\nclient, because client signifies a plebian protected by a senator.\nFreind spoke with confidence and modesty; he was listened to in silence,\nonly disturbed by cries of \"Hear him, hear him.\"\n\nThe House of Commons passed a vote of thanks to Earl Peterborough,\ninstead of condemning him. His lordship obtained the same justice from\nthe House of Peers, and prepared to set out with his dear Freind to\ndeliver the kingdom of Spain to the arch-duke. This did not take place,\nsolely because things do not always turn out as we wish them to.\n\nOn leaving the house, our first care was to enquire after the health of\nJohn. We learnt that he was leading a dissipated and debauched life with\nMrs. Clive-Hart, and a party of young men,--intelligent,--but atheists,\nwho believed:\n\n\"That man is in no respect superior to the brutes;--that he lives and\ndies as they do;--that both spring from and both return to the\nearth;--that wisdom and virtue consist in enjoyment and in living with\nthose we love, as Solomon says at the end of the 'Coheleth,' which we\ncall 'Ecclesiastes.'\"\n\nThese sentiments were chiefly advanced among them by one Warburton,[1] a\nvery forward licentious fellow. I have glanced at some of the poor\nauthor's MSS., which heaven grant may not one day be printed. Warburton\npretends that Moses did not believe in the immortality of the soul,\nbecause he never speaks of it, and considers that to be the only proof\nof his divine mission. This absurd conclusion leads to the supposition\nthat the religion of the Jews is false. Infidels thence argue that ours,\nbeing founded thereon, is false also; and _ours_, which is the best of\nall, being false, all others are, if possible, still more false:\ntherefore there is no religion. Hence some conclude that there is no\nGod. Let us add to these conclusions, that this little Warburton is an\nintriguing, slandering fellow. See what peril!\n\nBut worse than all, John was head over ears in debt, and had a strange\nway of paying. One of his creditors came to him with a claim for a\nhundred guineas, while we were in the house. John, who always appeared\npolite and gentle, fought his creditor, and paid him with a sword-wound.\nIt was apprehended the wounded man would die; and John, notwithstanding\nlord Peterborough's protection, ran the risk of imprisonment and\nhanging.\n\n\n[1] In 1737 Bishop Warburton published his famous work, _The Divine\nLegation of Moses_, in which he asserted, \"that the doctrine of a future\nstate of reward and punishment was omitted in the books of Moses,\" and\nthen proceeded to demonstrate \"from that very omission, that a system\nwhich could dispense with a doctrine, the very bond and cement of human\nsociety, must have come from God, and that the people to whom it was\ngiven must have been placed under His immediate superintendence.\" In\nother words, the divine origin of the Mosaic \"system\" is demonstrated,\nbecause Moses did not teach to the chosen people the doctrine of a\nfuture life beyond the grave. Voltaire clearly saw the fallacy of this\nfantastic argument, and has not failed to severely satirize the right\nreverend author.\n\nRobert Carruthers, Esq., in his _Life of Alexander Pope_ styles Bishop\nWarburton \"a learned, turbulent, ambitious adventurer\"--\"an\nindefatigable and unscrupulous divine,\" and says of _The Divine Legation\nof Moses_, that it was \"so learned, so novel, so paradoxical, so\narrogant and absurd, that it took the world as it were by storm, and\nchallenged universal attention.\"\n\nDr. Johnson says that Warburton's \"diction is coarse and impure, and his\nsentences are unmeasured;\" and a writer in the seventh volume of the\n_Quarterly Review_ (as quoted by George Godfrey Cuningham, Esq., in his\n_Lives of Eminent and illustrious Englishmen_) says: \"the rudeness and\nvulgarity of his manners as a controvertist, removed all restraints of\ndecency or decorum in scattering his jests about him. His taste seems to\nhave been neither just nor delicate.\" He combined \"the powers of a giant\nwith the temper of a ruffian.\"\n\nGibbon, in his _History of Christianity_, pointedly alludes to the\nauthor of _The Divine Legation of Moses_, and satirically styles the\nomission of the doctrine of immortality from the law of Moses, as \"a\nmysterious dispensation of providence.\" \"The real merit of Warburton,\"\nhe says, \"was degraded by the pride and presumption with which he\npronounced his infallible decrees.\"--E.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V.\n\nTHEY WANT TO GET JOHN MARRIED.\n\n\nYou remember the anguish of the venerable Freind when he learned that\nJohn was in the prison of the inquisition at Barcelona. Imagine his rage\nwhen he learned of the debauchery and dissipation of the unfortunate\nlad, his way of paying debts, and his danger of getting hanged! Yet\nFreind restrained himself. This excellent man's self-command is really\nastonishing. His reason regulates his heart, as a good master rules his\nservants. He does every thing reasonably, and judges wisely with as much\ncelerity as hasty people act rashly.\n\n\"This is no time to lecture John,\" said he. \"We must snatch him from the\nprecipice.\"\n\nYou must know that the day previously, our friend had come into a\nhandsome sum, left him by George Hubert, his uncle. He went himself in\nsearch of our great surgeon, Cheselden. We found him at home, and then\nproceeded together to the wounded creditor. The wound was inspected. It\nwas not dangerous. Freind gave the sufferer a hundred guineas as a first\nstep, and fifty others by way of reparation, and then asked forgiveness\nfor his son. Indeed, he expressed his regret so touchingly, that the\npoor man embraced him, and, weeping, wished to return the money.\n\nThis sight moved and surprised young Mr. Cheselden, whose reputation is\nbecoming very great, and whose heart is as kind as his hand is skillful.\n\nI was carried beyond myself; never had I admired and loved our friend so\nmuch.\n\nOn returning home, I asked him if he did not intend to send for his son,\nand to admonish him.\n\n\"No,\" said he. \"Let him feel his faults before I speak of them. Let us\nsup together to-night. We will see what in honesty I ought to do.\nExamples correct better than reprimands.\"\n\nWhile waiting for supper, I called on John. I found him in the state\nwhich all men experience after their first crime,--that is, pale, with\nsunken eyes and hoarse voice,--absent, and answering at random when\nspoken to.\n\nI told him what his father had just done.\n\nHe looked at me steadily, then turned away to dash a tear from his eye.\nI argued well from this, and began to hope that John would yet prove a\nworthy man. I felt ready to clasp him in my arms, when Madame Clive-Hart\ncame in, accompanied by a wild fellow, called Birton.\n\n\"Well,\" said the lady, laughing, \"have you really killed a man to-day?\nSome tiresome fellow. 'Tis well to rid the world of such people. When\nyou are next in the killing mood, pray think of my husband. He plagues\nme to death.\"\n\nI surveyed this woman from head to foot. She was handsome, but there was\nsomething sinister in her countenance. John dared not reply, and,\nconfused by my presence, looked downward.\n\n\"What's the matter?\" said Birton. \"You look as if you had done something\nwrong. I come to give you absolution. Here is a little book I have just\nbought at Lintot's. It proves as clearly as two and two make four, that\nthere is neither God, nor vice, nor virtue,--a very consoling fact! So,\nlet us drink together.\"\n\nOn hearing this singular discourse, I withdrew quickly, and represented\nto Mr. Freind how much his son required his advice.\n\n\"I see it as clearly as you do,\" said this kind father; \"but let us\nbegin by paying his debts.\"\n\nThey were all discharged the next day. John came and threw himself at\nhis father's feet. Will you believe it? The father made no reproaches.\nHe left him to conscience; only observing, \"Remember, my son, there is\nno happiness apart from virtue.\"\n\nMr. Freind then saw that the bachelor married Boca Vermeja, who really\nloved him, notwithstanding her tears for John. Women know how to confuse\nsuch feelings wonderfully. One would almost say that their hearts are a\nbundle of contradictions, perhaps because they were originally formed\nfrom one of our ribs.\n\nOur generous Freind gave her also a dowry, and took care to secure\nplaces for his converts. It is not enough to take care of people's\nsouls, if we neglect to provide for their present wants.\n\nAfter performing these good actions, with his astonishing _sang froid_,\nhe concluded he had nothing more to do to restore his son to virtue,\nthan to marry him to a young person of beauty, virtue, talents, and some\nwealth. This, indeed, was the only way to wean him from the detestable\nClive-Hart, and others, whom he frequented.\n\nI had heard speak of a Miss Primerose, a young heiress, brought up by\nher relative, Lady Hervey. The Earl of Peterborough introduced me to\nLady Hervey. I saw Miss Primerose, and considered her a proper person to\nfulfill the wishes of my friend. John, in the midst of his dissipation,\nhad great reverence and even affection for his father. He was chiefly\naffected that his father had never blamed him for his follies. Debts\npaid without informing him; wise counsels seasonably given, and without\nreprimand; proofs of friendship given from time to time, yet free from\nthe familiarity which might depreciate them. All this went to John's\nheart, for he was both intelligent and sensitive.\n\nLord Peterborough introduced the father and son to Lady Hervey. I\nperceived that the extreme beauty of John soon made a favorable\nimpression on Miss Primerose; for I saw her look stealthily at him and\nblush. John seemed only polite; and Primerose admitted to Lady Hervey\nthat she wished his politeness might become love.\n\nThe young man soon discovered the worth of this charming girl, though he\nwas the complete slave of Clive-Hart. He was like the Indian invited to\ngather celestial fruit, but restrained by the claws of a dragon.\n\nBut here the recollection of what I witnessed overwhelms me. Tears\nmoisten my paper. When I recover, I will resume my tale.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI.\n\nA TERRIBLE ADVENTURE.\n\n\nThe marriage of John and the lovely Primerose was about to be\ncelebrated. Freind never felt more joy. I shared it. But the occasion\nwas changed into one of deep sorrow and suffering.\n\nClive-Hart loved John, though constantly faithless. They say this is the\nlot of those women who, violating modesty, renounce their honor.\nEspecially she deceived John for her dear Birton and for another of the\nsame school. They lived together in debauch; and, what is perhaps\npeculiar to our nation, they had all of them sense and worth.\nUnfortunately, they employed their sense against God. Madame\nClive-Hart's house was a rendezvous for atheists. Well for them had they\nbeen such atheists as Epicurus, Leontium, Lucretius, Memmius, and\nSpinoza,--the most upright man of Holland,--or Hobbes, so faithful to\nhis unfortunate king, Charles I.\n\nBut however it may be, Clive-Hart, jealous of the pure and gentle\nPrimerose, could not endure the marriage. She devised a vengeance, which\nI conceive to be unsurpassed even in London, where I believe our fathers\nhave witnessed crimes of every kind. She learned that Miss Primerose,\nreturning from shopping, would pass by her door. She took advantage of\nthe opportunity, and had a sewer opened, communicating with her\npremises.\n\nMiss Primerose's carriage, on its return, was obliged to draw up at this\nobstruction. Clive-Hart goes out, and entreats her to alight and take\nsome refreshment, while the passage is being cleared. This invitation\nmade Miss Primerose hesitate; but she perceived John standing in the\nhall, and, yielding to an impulse stronger than her discretion, she got\nout. John offered her his hand. She enters. Clive-Hart's husband was a\nsilly drunkard, as hateful to his wife as he was submissive and\ntroublesome by his civility. He presents refreshments to the young lady,\nand drinks after her. Mrs. Clive-Hart takes them away instantly and\nbrings others. By this time the street is cleared. Miss Primerose enters\nher carriage, and drives to her mother's.\n\nShe soon falls sick, and complains of giddiness. They suppose it is\noccasioned by the motion of the carriage. But the illness increased, and\nthe next day she was dying.\n\nMr. Freind and I hastened to the house. We found the lovely creature\npale and livid, a prey to convulsions,--her lips open, her eyes glazed,\nand always staring. Black spots disfigured her face and throat. Her\nmother had fainted on her bed. Cheselden employed in vain all the\nresources of his art. I will not attempt to describe Freind's anguish.\nIt was intense. I hurried to Clive-Hart's house, and found that the\nhusband was just dead, and that the wife had fled.\n\nI sought John. He could not be found. A servant told me that his\nmistress had besought him not to leave her in her misfortune, and that\nthey had gone off together, accompanied by Birton, no one knew whither.\n\nOvercome by these rapid and numerous shocks, terrified at the frightful\nsuspicions which haunted me, I hastened to the dying lady.\n\n\"Yet,\" said I to myself, \"if this abominable woman threw herself on\nJohn's generosity, it does not follow that he is an accomplice. John is\nincapable of so horrible and cowardly a crime, which he had no interest\nin committing, which deprives him of a charming wife, and renders him\nodious to the human race. Weak, he has allowed himself to be drawn away\nby a wretch, of whose crime he was ignorant. He did not see, as I have\ndone, Primerose dying; he never would have deserted her pillow to\naccompany the poisoner of his bride. Oppressed by these thoughts, I\nentered, shuddering, the room which I expected contained a corpse.\"\n\nShe was still living. Old Clive-Hart died soon, because his constitution\nwas worn out by debauchery; but young Primerose was sustained by a\ntemperament as robust as her blood was pure. She saw me, and enquired,\nin a tender tone, after John. A flood of tears gushed from my eyes. I\ncould not reply. I was unable to speak to the father. I was obliged to\nleave her to the faithful hands that served her.\n\nWe went to inform his lordship of this disaster. He is as kind to his\nfriends as terrible to his foes. Never was there a more compassionate\nman with so stern a countenance. He took as much pains to assist the\ndying lady, and to overtake the abandoned woman, and discover John, as\nhe had done to give Spain to the arch-duke. But all our search proved in\nvain. I thought it would kill Freind. Now we flew to the residence of\nMiss Primerose, whose dying was protracted, now to Rochester, Dover,\nPortsmouth. Couriers were dispatched every where. We wandered about at\nrandom, like dogs that have lost the scent;--while the unfortunate\nmother expected hourly the death of her child.\n\nAt length we learned that a handsome lady, accompanied by three young\nmen and some servants, had embarked at Newport, in Monmouthshire, in a\nlittle smuggling vessel that was in the roads, and had sailed for North\nAmerica.\n\nFreind sighed deeply at this intelligence, then suddenly recovering\nhimself, and pressing my hand, he said:\n\n\"I must go to America.\"\n\nI replied, weeping with admiration: \"I will not leave you. But what can\nyou do?\"\n\n\"Restore my only son,\" said he, \"to virtue and his country, or bury\nmyself with him.\"\n\nIndeed, from our information, we could not doubt but he had fled thither\nwith that horrible woman, Birton, and the other villains of the party.\n\nThe good father took leave of Lord Peterborough, who returned soon after\nto Catalonia; and we went to Bristol and freighted a ship for the\nDelaware and the bay of Maryland.\n\nFreind, knowing these coasts to be in the heart of the English\npossessions, thought it right to go thither, whether his son had sought\nconcealment in the North or South.\n\nHe supplied himself with money, letters of credit, and provisions, and\nleft a confidential servant in London, to write to him by ships that\nwere leaving every week for Maryland or Pennsylvania.\n\nWe started. The crew, judging from the placid countenance of my friend,\nthought we were on an excursion of pleasure. But when he was alone with\nme, his sighs expressed the depth of his anguish. At times I\ncongratulated myself on the happiness of consoling such a noble mind.\n\nA west wind kept us a long time about the Sorlingues. We were obliged to\nsteer for New England. What enquiries we made on every coast! What time\nand toil were thrown away! At length a northeast wind arising, we\nsteered for Maryland. There, it was said, John and his companions had\ntaken refuge.\n\nThe fugitives had sojourned on the coast more than a month, and had\nastonished the whole colony by indulgences in luxury and debauch, till\nthen unknown in that part of the world. Then they disappeared; no one\nknew whither.\n\nWe advanced into the bay, intending to go to Baltimore for fresh\ninformation.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII.\n\nWHAT HAPPENED IN AMERICA.\n\n\nOn the way we found, to the right, a very handsome house. It was low,\nbut convenient and neat, placed between a spacious barn and a large\nstable; the whole enclosed by a garden, well stocked with fruits of the\ncountry. It belonged to an old man, who invited us to alight at his\nretreat. He did not look like an Englishman; his accent showed us he was\na foreigner. We anchored and went on shore. The old man welcomed us\ncordially, and gave us the best cheer to be had in the New World.\n\nWe discreetly insinuated our wish to know to whom we were indebted for\nso kind a reception.\n\n\"I am,\" said he, \"of the race you call savages. I was born on the Blue\nMountains, which bound this country in the west. In my childhood I was\nbitten by a rattlesnake, and abandoned. I was on the point of death. The\nfather of the present Lord Baltimore, falling in with me, confided me to\nhis physician; and to him I owe my life. I soon discharged the debt; for\nI have saved his in a skirmish with the neighboring tribes. He gave me,\nin return, this habitation.\"\n\nMr. Freind enquired if he was of Lord Baltimore's religion?\n\n\"How,\" said he, \"would you have me profess another man's religion? I\nhave my own.\"\n\nThis short and energetic answer made us reflect a little.\n\n\"You have, then,\" said I, \"your own law and your own God?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" he replied, with an assurance wholly free from pride. \"My God is\nthere,\" and he pointed to heaven. \"My law is here,\" and he put his hand\non his breast.\n\nMy friend was struck with admiration, and, pressing my hand, he said:\n\n\"This simple nature reasons more wisely than all the bachelors with whom\nwe conversed at Barcelona.\"\n\nHe was anxious to know if he could gain any information respecting his\nson John. It was a weight that oppressed him. He enquired if his host\nhad heard speak of some young people, who had made a great noise in the\nneighborhood.\n\n\"Indeed I have,\" said he, \"I received them in my house; and they were so\nsatisfied with the reception I gave them, that they have carried away\none of my daughters.\"\n\nJudge of my friend's distress at this intelligence. In his emotion, he\ncould not avoid exclaiming:\n\n\"What! Has my son run away with your daughter?\"\n\n\"Good Englishman,\" said the host, \"do not let that grieve you. I am glad\nto find he is your son. He is handsome, well made, and seems courageous.\nHe did not run away with my dear Parouba; for you must know that Parouba\nis her name, because it is mine. Had he taken off Parouba, it would have\nbeen a robbery; and my five sons, who are now hunting some forty or\nfifty miles from here, would not have endured such an affront. It is a\ngreat sin to thieve. My daughter went of her own accord with these young\npeople. She has gone to see the country, a pleasure one cannot deny to\none of her age. These travelers will bring her back to me before a month\nis passed. I am sure of it. They promised to do so.\"\n\nThese words would have made me laugh, had not the evident distress of my\nfriend severely afflicted me.\n\nIn the evening, just as we were about to start to take advantage of the\nwind, one of Parouba's sons arrived out of breath, his face expressing\nhorror and despair.\n\n\"What is the matter, my son? I thought you were hunting far away. Are\nyou wounded by some savage beast?\"\n\n\"No, father,--not wounded, yet in pain.\"\n\n\"But whence do you come, son?\"\n\n\"From a distance of forty miles, without stopping; and I am almost\ndead.\"\n\nThe aged father makes him sit down. They give him restoratives. Mr.\nFreind and I, his little brothers and sisters, with the servants, crowd\naround him. When he recovered his breath, he exclaimed:\n\n\"Alas, my sister Parouba is a prisoner of war, and will no doubt be\nkilled.\"\n\nThe worthy Parouba was grieved at this recital. Mr. Freind, feeling for\nhim as a father, was struck to the very heart. At last, the son informed\nus that a party of silly young Englishmen had attacked, for diversion,\nthe people of the mountains. He said, they had with them a very\nbeautiful lady and her maid; and he knew not how his sister came to be\nwith them. The handsome English lady had been scalped and killed; and\nhis sister captured.\n\n\"I come here for aid against the people of the Blue Mountains. I will\nkill them too, and will retake my dear sister, or perish.\"\n\nMr. Friend's habits of self-command supported him in this trying moment.\n\n\"God has given me a son,\" said he. \"Let him take both father and son,\nwhen the eternal decree shall go forth. My friend, I am tempted to think\nGod sometimes acts by a special providence, since he avenges in America\ncrimes committed in Europe, and since this wicked Clive-Hart died as she\ndeserved. Perhaps the Sovereign of the universe does in his government\npunish even in this world crimes committed here. I dare not assert; I\nwish to think so; indeed I should believe it, were not such an opinion\nopposed to all metaphysical laws.\"\n\nAfter these sad reflections on an event common in America, Freind\nresumed his usual demeanor.\n\n\"I have a good ship,\" said he to his host, \"with abundant stores. Let us\ngo up the gulf as near as we may to the Blue Mountains. My most anxious\nbusiness now is to save your daughter. Let us go to your countrymen, say\nI bear the pipe of peace--that I am the grandson of Penn. That name\nalone will suffice.\"\n\nAt the name of Penn, so much revered throughout North America, the\nworthy Parouba and his son felt the greatest respect and the greatest\nhope. We embarked, and in thirty-six hours reached Baltimore.\n\nWe were scarcely in sight of this almost desert place, when we saw in\nthe distance a numerous band of mountaineers descending to the plain,\narmed with axes, tomahawks, and those muskets which Europeans so\nfoolishly sold to them, to procure skins. Already you might hear their\nfrightful howlings. From another side we saw four persons approaching on\nhorseback, accompanied by others on foot. We were taken for people of\nBaltimore, come there for the purpose of fighting. The horsemen galloped\ntoward us, sword in hand. Our companions prepared to receive them. Mr.\nFreind, observing them steadily, shuddered for a moment; but soon\nresuming his sang-froid.\n\n\"Do not stir, my friends,\" said he. \"Leave all to me.\"\n\nHe advanced alone and unarmed toward the party. In a moment, we saw the\nchief let fall the bridle from his horse, spring to the ground, and fall\nprostrate. We uttered a cry of surprise, and advanced. It was John\nhimself, who, bathed in tears, had fallen at the feet of his father.\nNeither of them was able to speak. Birton, and the two horsemen with\nhim, alighted. But Birton, in his characteristic way, said:\n\n\"My dear Freind, I did not expect to see you here. You and I seem born\nfor adventures. I am glad to see you.\"\n\nFreind, without deigning to reply, looked toward the army of\nmountaineers, now approaching us. He walked toward them, accompanied by\nParouba, who acted as interpreter.\n\n\"Fellow countrymen,\" said Parouba, \"behold a descendant of Penn, who\nbrings you the pipe of peace.\"\n\nAt these words, the eldest of the tribe raising his hands and eyes to\nheaven, exclaimed:\n\n\"A son of Penn! He is welcome! May the Penns live for ever! The great\nPenn is our Manitou, our god. He and his were the only Europeans who did\nnot deceive us, and seize on our land. He bought the territory we gave\nup to him; he paid for it liberally; he maintained peace among us; he\nbrought us remedies for the few diseases we had caught from the\nEuropeans. He taught us new arts. We never dug up against him and\nagainst his children the hatchet of war. For the Penns we always\nentertain respect.\"\n\nFreind immediately sent for thirty hams, as many pies and fowls, with\ntwo hundred bottles of Pontac, from the ship. He seated himself close to\nthe chief of the Blue Mountains. John and his companions assisted at the\nfestival. John would rather have been a hundred feet under the earth.\nHis father said nothing to him; and this silence increased his\nconfusion.\n\nBirton, who cared for nothing, seemed very jovial. Freind, before he\nbegan to eat, said to Parouba:\n\n\"One person, very dear to you, is waiting here. I mean your daughter.\"\n\nThe chief of the Blue Mountains ordered her to be brought. She had\nsuffered no injury; she smiled to her brother and father, as if she had\nonly returned from a walk.\n\nI took advantage of the freedom of the meal, to enquire why the warriors\nof the Blue Mountains had put to death Madame Clive-Hart, and had done\nnothing to Parouba's daughter.\n\n\"Because we are just,\" returned the chief. \"That proud English woman\nbelonged to the party that attacked us. She killed one of our men by\nfiring a pistol behind him. We did nothing to Parouba, as soon as we\nascertained that she was a daughter of our tribes, and only came here\nfor diversion. Every one should be treated according to his desert.\"\n\nFreind was affected by this maxim, but he represented to them that the\ncustom of burning captives at the stake, was degrading to worthy people;\nand that, with so much virtue, they should be less ferocious.\n\nThe chief then asked us what we did with those whom we killed in battle.\n\n\"We bury them.\"\n\n\"I understand. You leave them for worms to eat. Cannibals think proper\nto give themselves the preference. Their stomachs are a more honorable\ngrave.\"\n\nBirton supported with pleasure the opinions of the mountaineer. He said,\nthe custom of boiling and roasting a neighbor must be both ancient and\nnatural, since it prevailed in both hemispheres; and therefore it must\nbe an innate idea;--that men were hunted before beasts, because it was\neasier to kill men than wolves;--that if the Jews, in their books, so\nlong unknown, imagined that a certain Cain killed a certain Abel, it\ncould only be with a view to eat him--that the same Jews admit they had\noften fed on human flesh;--that the best historians describe the Jews as\neating the bleeding flesh of Romans, whom they massacred in Egypt,\nCyprus, and Asia, in their revolts against the emperors Trajan and\nAdrian.\n\nWe allowed him to indulge in these coarse jokes, which, though\nunfortunately true at the bottom, had neither Grecian wit nor Roman\nurbanity.\n\nFreind, without answering him, addressed the natives. Parouba\ntranslated, phrase by phrase. Tillotson himself never spoke with more\nforce. The insinuating Smaldridge never displayed more touching graces.\nThe great secret of eloquence is to convince. He proved to them,\naccordingly, that the execrable custom of burning captives, inspired a\nferocity destructive to the human race; for this reason, they were\nstrangers to the comforts of society and the tillage of the ground.\n\nAt last, they all swore by their great Manitou, that they would not burn\nmen and women again.\n\nThus, from a single conversation, Freind became their legislator, like\nan Orpheus taming tigers. In vain may the Jesuits describe their\nmiracles in letters which are rarely curious or edifying; they can never\nequal our good friend.\n\nAfter loading the chiefs of the Blue Mountains with presents, he\nconducted the worthy Parouba back to his residence. Young Parouba, with\nhis sister, accompanied us. The others went hunting in the distant\nforest.\n\nJohn, Birton, and his companions, also embarked in the ship.\n\nFreind persisted in his plan of not reproaching his son, whenever the\nyoung scamp did wrong. He left him to self-examination, and to consume\nhis heart, as Pythagoras has it. Nevertheless, he took up the letter\nthrice, which had been received from England, and looked at his son as\nhe read it. The young man would then cast his eyes on the ground; and\nrespect and repentance might be read on his face.\n\nBirton continued as gay and noisy as if he had just returned from the\nplay. He was in character like the late Duke of Rochester, extreme in\ndebauchery, bravery, sentiments, language, and, in his Epicurean\nphilosophy, attaching himself only to the extraordinary and soon\ndisgusted even then; having the turn of mind that mistakes probabilities\nfor demonstrations; more wise and eloquent than any young man of his\nage; but too indolent to be profound in any thing.\n\nWhile dining with us on board, Mr. Freind said to me:\n\n\"Indeed, my dear friend, I hope God will inspire these young people with\npurer morals, and that Clive-Hart's terrible example will be a lesson to\nthem.\"\n\nBirton, hearing these words, said, in a disdainful tone:\n\n\"For a long time I had been dissatisfied with that wicked Clive-Hart.\nIndeed, I scarcely care more for her than I do for a trussed fowl. But\ndo you believe there exists (I don't know where) a being perpetually\noccupied in punishing the wicked men and women who people and depopulate\nthe four quarters of our little world? Do you forget that the terrible\nMary, daughter of Henry VIII., was happy till her death? and yet she had\ncaused the execution of eight hundred citizens, of both sexes, on the\npretext that they did not believe in transubstantiation and the pope.\nHer father, nearly as cruel, and her husband, more profoundly wicked,\nspent their lives in enjoyment. Pope Alexander IV., worse than these,\nwas still more fortunate. All his crimes succeeded. He died at the age\nof seventy-two, rich and powerful, courted by the kings of the age.\nWhere, then, is this just and avenging God?\"\n\nMr. Freind, with austerity and calmness, replied:\n\n\"It seems to me, sir, you ought not to say 'there is no God.' Remember,\nLocke and Newton never pronounced that word but in a tone of reverence,\nthat every one remarked.\"\n\n\"What care I,\" returned Birton, \"for two men's grimaces? How did Newton\nlook, when he wrote his _Commentary on the Apocalypse_? Or Locke, when\nhe wrote the _Dialogue between a Parrot and the Prince Maurice_?\"\n\nThen Freind repeated the golden words which should be graven on every\nheart:\n\n\"Let us forget the dreams of great men; and remember the truths they\nhave taught us.\"\n\nThis reply gave way to a well-sustained conversation, more interesting\nthan that of the bachelor of Salamanca. I sat in a corner and took\nnotes. The company drew round the disputants. The worthy Parouba, his\nson, and daughter, John's debauched companions, and John himself, with\nhis head resting on his hands,--all listened with eager attention.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII.\n\nDIALOGUE BETWEEN FREIND AND BIRTON ON ATHEISM.\n\n\nFREIND.--I will not repeat to you, sir, the metaphysical arguments of\nour celebrated Clarke; I only exhort you to read them again. They are\nrather intended to convince than affect you. I shall confine myself to\narguments calculated to touch your heart.\n\nBIRTON.--You will gratify me very much. I like to be amused and\ninterested. I hate sophisms. Metaphysical arguments seem to me like\nballoons filled with air used between the disputants. The bladders\nburst; and nothing remains.\n\nFREIND.--It is possible there may be some obscurity--some bladders--in\nthe deep things of Clarke, the respectable Arian. Perhaps he was\ndeceived on the subject of actual infinity. Perhaps, when he took upon\nhimself to comment on God, he follows too closely a commentator of\nHomer, who attributes ideas to his author which he never entertained.\n\nAt the words \"infinity,\" \"Homer,\" \"commentators,\" the worthy Parouba and\nhis daughter, and even a few of the English, seemed disposed to go and\ntake an airing on the deck. But Freind promising to be intelligible,\nthey consented to remain. I explained in a whisper to Parouba scientific\nexpressions, which a native of the Blue Mountains was not likely to\nunderstand so well as a doctor of Oxford or Cambridge.\n\nFREIND.--It would be sad, indeed, if we could not be sure of the\nexistence of God without being metaphysicians. In all England, scarcely\na hundred minds would be found capable of fathoming the mysteries of the\n_for_ and _against_; and the rest of the world would be enveloped in\nignorance,--a prey to brutal passions,--swayed by instinct alone,--and\nonly capable of reasoning on the vulgar notions of their carnal\ninterests. To find out God, I only require you to make one effort,--to\nopen your eyes.\n\nBIRTON.--I see your aim. You are returning to the worn-out arguments\nthat the sun turns on its axis in twenty-five days and a half, in spite\nof the absurd inquisition of Rome;--that the light comes to us reflected\nfrom Saturn in fifteen minutes, in spite of the absurd supposition of\nDescartes;--that every fixed star is a sun, like ours, surrounded by\nplanets; that the countless stars, scattered through space, obey\nmathematical laws, discovered and proved by the great Newton;--that a\ncatechist announces God to children, and that Newton reveals him to the\nsage, as a philosophical Frenchman said, who was persecuted in his own\ncountry for asserting as much. Do not trouble yourself to bring before\nme the ceaseless order which prevails in all parts of the universe. All\nthat exists must have order of some sort. Rarefied matter must take a\nhigher place than denser substances. The strongest press upon the\nweakest. Bodies moved with a greater impulse, progress more rapidly than\nthose moved with less. Things arrange themselves in this way of their\nown accord. In vain, after drinking a pint of wine, like Esdras, would\nyou talk to me for a hundred and sixty hours together without shutting\nthe mouth, I should not be convinced. Do you wish me to adopt an eternal\nbeing, infinite and immutable, who saw fit, (I do not know when,) to\ncreate from nothing, things which change every moment, and spiders to\ndisembowel flies? Would you have me suppose, with the gossip Niewentyt,\nthat God gave us ears that we might have faith? since faith cometh by\nhearing. No! No! I will not believe these quacks who have sold their\ndrugs at a good price to fools. I keep to the little book of a\nFrenchman, who maintains that nothing exists nor can exist but nature;\nthat nature does all, and is _all_; that it is impossible and\ncontradictory that any thing can exist beyond ALL. In a word, I only\nbelieve in nature.\n\nFREIND.--What if I tell you there is no such thing as nature; and that\nin us, around us, a thousand millions of leagues from us, all is art,\nwithout any exception.\n\nBIRTON.--What? All art! That's something new.\n\nFREIND.--Few observe that. Nothing, however, is more true. I shall\nalways say, make use of your eyes, and you will recognize and adore God.\nThink how those vast globes, which you see revolve in their immense\norbits, observe deep mathematical laws. There is then a great calculator\nwhom Plato called the eternal geometrician. You admire those newly\ninvented machines, called orreries, because Lord Orrery invented them by\nimitating the maker. It is a feeble copy of our planetary system and its\nrevolutions; also the periods of the changes of the solstice and equinox\nwhich bring us from day to day a new polar planet. This period, this\nslow course of about twenty-six thousand years, could not be effected in\nour feeble hands by human orreries. The machine is very imperfect; it\nmust be turned by a handle; yet it is a _chef-d'\u0153uvre_ of the skill\nof our artisans. Conceive, then, the power and patience, the genius, of\nthe eternal architect, if we may apply such terms to the supreme being.\n\nWhen I described an orrery to Parouba, he said:\n\n\"If the copy indicates genius, how much more must there be in the\noriginal?\"\n\nAll present, English and American, felt the force of these words, and\nraised their hands to heaven.\n\nBirton remained thoughtful. Then he cried:\n\n\"What, all art? Nature the result of art? Can it be possible?\"\n\nFREIND.--Now, consider yourself; examine with what art, never\nsufficiently explored, all is constructed within and without for all\nyour wishes and actions. I do not pretend now to lecture on anatomy. You\nknow well enough there is not one superfluous vessel, nor one that does\nnot, in the exercise of its functions, depend on neighboring vessels. So\nartificial is the arrangement throughout the body, that there is not a\nsingle vein without valves and sluices, making a passage for the blood.\nFrom the roots of the hair to the toes, all is art, design, cause, and\neffect. Indeed, we cannot suppress feelings of indignation toward those\nwho presume to deny final causes, and have the rashness to say that the\nmouth was not made to eat and speak with--that the eyes are not\nadmirably contrived for seeing, the ears for hearing, the nerves for\nfeeling. Such audacity is madness. I cannot conceive it.\n\nLet us admit that every animal renders testimony to the supreme\nfabricator.\n\nThe smallest herb perplexes human intellect. So true is this that the\naggregate toil of all men could not create a straw unless the seed be\nsown in the earth. Let it not be said that the seed must rot in the\nearth to produce. Such nonsense should not be listened to now.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe company felt the force of these proofs more forcibly than the\nothers, because they were more palpable. Birton murmured: \"Must I then\nacknowledge God? We shall see. It is not yet proved.\"\n\nJohn remained thoughtful, and seemed affected.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nFREIND.--No, my friends. We make nothing, we can do nothing. It is in\nour power to arrange, unite, calculate, weigh, measure, but, _to make_!\nWhat a word! The essential Being, existing by Himself, alone can make.\nThis is why quacks, who labor at the philosopher's stone, prove\nthemselves such fools. They boast that they create gold, and they cannot\neven create clay. Let us then confess, my friends, that there is a\nnecessary and incomprehensible Being who made us.\n\nBIRTON.--If he exist, where is he? Why is he concealed? Has any one ever\nseen him? Should the creator of good hide himself?\n\nFREIND.--Did you ever see Sir Christopher Wren, the architect of Saint\nPaul's, when you were in London? Yet it is clear that church is the work\nof a great architect.\n\nBIRTON.--Every one knows that Wren erected, at a great expense, the vast\nedifice in which Burgess, when he preaches, sends us to sleep. We know\nvery well why and how our fathers built it. But why and how did God make\nthe universe from nothing? You know well the ancient maxim: \"Nothing can\ncreate nothing; nothing returns to nothing.\" No one ever doubted that\ntruth. Your Bible itself says that your God made heaven and earth,\nthough the heaven, that is, the assemblage of stars, is as superior to\nthe earth, as the earth itself is to one blade of grass. But your Bible\ndoes not tell us that God made heaven and earth from nothing. It does\nnot pretend that the Lord made woman from nothing. She was kneaded in a\nvery singular way, from a rib taken from her husband's side. According\nto the Bible, chaos existed before the world; therefore matter must be\nas eternal as your God.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nA slight murmur then went round the company; \"Birton might be right,\"\nthey said.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nFREIND.--I think I have proved to you that there is a supreme\nintelligence; an eternal power to whom we owe our passing existence. I\nhave not engaged to tell you the how and the why. God has given me\nsufficient reason to know that he exists, but not enough to discover\nwhether matter has been subject to him from eternity, or whether he\ncreated it in time. What have you to do with the creation of matter,\nprovided you acknowledge a God the ruler of matter and of yourself? You\nask me where God is? I do not know. I ought not to know. I know that he\nis; I know that he is my maker; that he makes all, and that we ought to\ndepend on his goodness.\n\nBIRTON.--His goodness! Are you jesting with me? Did you not tell me to\nmake use of my eyes? Make use of yours. Glance at the world, and then\ntalk of the goodness of God.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nMr. Freind saw that he had now reached the most difficult part of the\ndispute, and that Birton was preparing a rude assault. He saw that the\nhearers, especially the Americans, together with himself, required a\nlittle respite. Recommending himself therefore to God, they went on deck\nfor exercise. When tea was served, the disputation was renewed.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX.\n\nON ATHEISM.\n\n\nBIRTON.--You must not expect such success, sir, on the subject of\ngoodness, as you have had on ingenuity and power. First, I shall touch\non the misconstructions of our globe, in many instances opposed to the\ncleverness so much boasted of; then I intend to dwell on the perpetual\ncrimes and misfortunes of the inhabitants; and you will judge of the\ngreat ruler's paternal affection for them.\n\nI shall begin by telling you that in Gloucestershire, my county, when we\nbreed horses, we rear them with care, in fine pasturage and good\nstables, with hay and oats. Pray, what shelter and food had these poor\nAmericans, when we discovered their continent? They were obliged to\nscour over thirty or forty miles for food. All the northern coast of the\nold world is exposed to the same cruel necessity; and from Swedish\nLaponia to the Sea of Japan, a hundred tribes spend a life as short as\nit is wretched, in the most complete want, amidst eternal snows.\n\nFine climates are continually exposed to destructive scourges. There we\nwalk over burning precipices, covered by fertile plains, which prove but\ndeadly snares. There is no hell but this, doubtless; and it opens a\nhundred times beneath our feet.\n\nThey tell us of an universal deluge, an event physically impossible, and\nat which all sensible people laugh. But they console us by saying it\nonly lasted ten months. I wonder it did not put out the fires which have\nsince destroyed so many flourishing towns. Your St. Augustin tells us of\na hundred cities burnt or swallowed up in Lydia, by an earthquake.\nVolcanoes have several times devastated lovely Italy. As a crowning\nmisfortune, the inhabitants of the Arctic Circle are not exempt from\nthese subterranean fires. The Icelander, always in alarm, has hunger\nstaring him in the face, and a hundred feet of flame or ice to the right\nor left, under their Mount Hecla; for the great volcanoes are always\nfound among terrible mountains.\n\nIt is in vain to say that mountains of two thousand toises in elevation\nare nothing on a globe nine thousand miles in diameter, or like the\nirregularities of an orange compared with the bulk of that fruit--that\nit is scarcely one foot to every three thousand feet. Alas! What then\nare we, if high mountains are but as figures one foot high for every\nthree thousand feet, or four inches for every nine thousand inches? We\nare then animals absolutely imperceptible; yet we are liable to be\ncrushed by all that surrounds us, though our infinite littleness, so\nclosely bordering on nothing, might seem to secure us from all\naccidents. Besides the countless cities, destroyed and re-destroyed like\nas many ant-hills, what shall we say to the seas of sand that cross the\ncentre of Africa, and whose burning waves, raised by the wind, have\nburied entire armies? What is the use of the vast deserts on the borders\nof Syria,--deserts so horrible that the ferocious animals, called Jews,\nimagined they had reached Paradise when they passed from these scenes of\nhorror into a little corner of land where they could cultivate a few\nacres? It is not enough that man (the noble creature) should be so ill\nlodged, clothed, and fed, for so many ages. He comes into the world to\nlive for a few days, perplexed by deceitful hopes and real vexations.\nHis body, contrived with useless art, is a prey to all the ills\nresulting from that very art. He lives between the dangers of poison and\nplague. No one can remember the list of ills we are subject to; and the\nmodest doctors of Switzerland pretend they can cure them all.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nWhile Birton said this, the company listened with attention and even\nemotion. Parouba said \"Let us see how the doctor will get over this.\"\n\nEven John said in a low tone: \"On my word, he is right. I was a fool to\nbe so soon touched by my father's conversation.\"\n\nMr. Freind waited till their imaginations were a little recovered from\nthe assault, and then resumed the discussion.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nFREIND.--A young theologian would answer these sad truths by sophisms,\nbacked with quotations from St. Basil and St. Cyril. For my part, I\nshall admit that there are many physical evils in the world. I will not\neven lessen the number, though Mr. Birton has seen fit to exaggerate. I\nask you, my dear Parouba, is not your climate made for you? It cannot\nbe injurious, since neither you nor your companions wish to leave it.\nEsquimaux, Icelanders, Laplanders, Asiatics, and Indians, never think of\nleaving theirs. The reindeer, which God has sent to clothe and feed\nthem, die when transported to another zone. Laplanders themselves die in\nsouthern climates. The south of Siberia is too warm for them; here they\nwould be burnt. It is evident that God made every kind of animal and\nvegetable for the clime in which it thrives. Negroes, a race of men so\ndifferent to ours, are so thoroughly formed for their country, that\nthousands of them have preferred death to slavery elsewhere. The camel\nand ostrich are quite at home in the sands of Africa. The bull abounds\nin fertile countries, where the grass is ever fresh for his nourishment.\nCinnamon and spice only grow in India. Barley is only useful in those\ncountries where God has appointed it to grow. From one end of America to\nthe other, you have different kinds of food. The vine cannot be brought\nto perfection in England, nor in Sweden and Canada. This is the reason\nthat in some countries the elements of religious rites consist in bread\nand wine; and they do well to thank God for the food and beverage his\ngoodness has provided; and Americans would do well to thank him for\ntheir Indian corn and arrow-root. Throughout the world God has suited\nall animals, from the snail to man, to the countries in which he has\nplaced them. Let us not reproach Providence when we owe him praises.\n\nBut to consider scourges, such as inundations, volcanoes, earthquakes.\nIf you confine your attention to the accidents which sometimes happen to\nthe wheels of the eternal machine, you may well consider God as a\ntyrant; but observe his ceaseless benefits, and he becomes a\ncompassionate father. You have quoted Augustin and his account of the\ndestruction of a hundred cities; but remember the African rhetorician\noften contradicts himself and was prodigal of exaggerations in his\nwritings. He wrote of earthquakes as he did of the efficacy of grace,\nand the damnation of children dying without baptism. Has he not said in\nhis thirty-seventh sermon, that he had seen people at Ethiopia with one\neye in the middle of the forehead like the Cyclops, and a whole race\nwithout heads?\n\nWe, who are not fathers of the church, ought not to go beyond nor to\nstop short of truth; and the truth is, that of the houses destroyed, we\ncannot reckon that more than one out of every hundred thousand, is\ndestroyed by the fires necessary to the due performance of the\noperations of the world.\n\nSo essential to the nature of the universe is fire, that but for it\nthere would be no sun nor stars, no animals, vegetables, or minerals.\nThe fire, placed under the earth, is subject to fixed natural laws. Some\ndisasters may nevertheless occur. You cannot say a man is a poor artisan\nwhen an immense machine, formed by him, lasts unimpaired for years. If a\nman invented a hydraulic engine to water a province, would you disparage\nhis work because it destroys some insects?\n\nI have shown you that the machine of the world is the work of an\nintelligent and powerful being; you, who are intelligent, ought to\nadmire him,--you, who are laden with his gifts, ought to adore him.\n\nBut how, you inquire, can the wretches who are condemned to languish\nunder incurable evils--how can they admire and love? I must tell you,\nthat such ills are generally brought on ourselves, or come to us from\nour fathers, who abused their bodies, and not from the great fabricator.\nNo disease but decrepitude was known in America till we introduced\nstrong liquors, the source of all evils.\n\nLet us remember that in Milton's Poem, the simple Adam is made to\ninquire if he will live long. Yes, is the reply, if you take nothing to\nexcess. Observe this rule, my friends. Can you require that God should\nlet you live for ages, as the reward of your gluttony, your drunkenness,\nyour incontinence, and your indulgence in infamous passions, which\ncorrupt the blood and necessarily shorten life?\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nI approved of this reply. Parouba liked it; but Birton was not moved. I\nread in John's eyes that he was still doubtful. Birton rejoined in these\nterms:\n\nBIRTON.--Since you have made use of common arguments, with a few novel\nremarks, I may be allowed to follow your plan. If so good and powerful a\nGod existed, surely he would not have suffered evil to enter the world,\nnor have devoted his creatures to grief and crime. If he cannot prevent\nevil, he is not almighty; if he will not, he is cruel.\n\nThe annals of the Brahmins only extend back 8,000 years; those of the\nChinese only 5,000. Our knowledge is but of yesterday; but, in that\nbrief space, all is horror. Murder has been the practice from one end of\nthe earth to the other; and men have been weak enough to give to those\nmen who slew the greatest number of their fellow creatures, the titles\nof heroes, demi-gods, and even gods.\n\nIn America there were left two great nations, beginning to enjoy the\nsweets of peace and civilization, when the Spaniards came there to slay\neleven millions. They hunted men down with dogs; and King Ferdinand of\nCastile gave those dogs pensions for their services.\n\nThe heroes who subdued the New World, massacred innocent and helpless\nbabes, murdered peaceable and defenceless Indians, and committed the\nmost inhuman barbarities! They roasted King Guatimozin, in Mexico, on a\ngridiron. They hastened to Peru to convert the Inca, Atahualpa. A\npriest, named Almagro, son of a priest condemned to be hanged in Spain\nfor highway robbery, went there with one Pizarro, to inform the Emperor\nof the Peruvians, by the voice of another priest, that a third priest,\nnamed Alexander IV., polluted by incest, assassination, and homicide,\nhad given, with his full consent (_proprio motu_) and with full power,\nnot only Peru, but one half of the New World, to the King of Spain; and\nthat Atahualpa ought instantly to submit, under pain of suffering the\nindignation of the apostles Peter and Paul. But as this king knew as\nlittle of Latin as the priest who read the papal bull, he was instantly\ndeclared heretical and incredulous.\n\nThey burned Atahualpa, as they had burned Guatimozin. They slew his\npeople; and all to gain that hard and yellow earth which has only served\nto depopulate and impoverish Spain; for it has made her neglect the\ncultivation of the earth, which really nourishes man.\n\nNow, my dear Mr. Freind, if the fantastic and ridiculous being men call\nthe devil, had wished to make men in his image, would he have made them\notherwise? Do not, then, attribute such an abominable work to God.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThis speech brought the party round again to Birton's views. I saw John\nrejoice in himself; even young Parouba heard with horror of the priest\nAlmagro--of the priest who read the Latin bull--of the priest Alexander\nIV.---of all Christians who committed, under pretence of devotion, such\ncrimes to obtain gold. I confess, I trembled for Freind. I despaired of\nhis cause. He replied, however, without embarrassment.\n\nFREIND.--Remember, my friends, there is a God. This I proved to you, you\nagreed to it, and after being driven to admit that he exists, you strive\nto find out his imperfections, vices, and wickedness.\n\nI am far from asserting, with some reasoners, that private ills form the\ngeneral good. This is too ridiculous a sentiment. I admit, with grief,\nthat the world contains much moral and physical evil: but, since it is\ncertain that God exists, it is also certain that all these evils cannot\nprevent God's existence. He cannot be cruel. What interest could make\nhim so? There are horrible evils in the world, my friends. Let us not\nswell their number. It is impossible that God can be other than good;\nbut men are perverse, and make a detestable use of the liberty that God\nhas given and ought to have given,--that is, the power of exercising\ntheir wills, without which they would be simple machines, formed by a\nwicked being, to be broken at his caprice.\n\nAll enlightened Spaniards agree that a small number of their ancestors\nabused this liberty so far as to commit crimes that make human nature\nshudder. The second Don Carlos did what he could to repair the\natrocities committed by the Spaniards under Ferdinand and Charles V.\n\nIf there be crime in the world, my friends, there is virtue as well.\n\nBIRTON.--Ah! ha! virtue! A good joke! I should like to see this virtue.\nWhere is she to be found?\n\nAt these words I could not contain myself.\n\n\"You may find her,\" said I, \"in the worthy Mr. Freind, in Parouba, even\nin yourself when your heart is cleansed of its vices.\"\n\nHe blushed; and John also. The latter looked down and seemed to feel\nremorse. His father surveyed him with compassion and resumed.\n\nFREIND.--Yes, dear friends. If there have always been crimes; there have\nalways been virtues too. Athens had such men as Socrates, as well as\nsuch as Anitus. Rome had Catos, as well as Syllas. Nero frightened the\nworld by his atrocities, but Titus, Trajan, and the Antonines, consoled\nit by their benevolence, My friend will explain to Parouba who these\ngreat men were. Fortunately, I have Epictetus in my pocket. Epictetus\nwas a slave, but the equal of Marcus Aurelius in mind. Listen; and may\nall who pretend to teach men hear what Epictetus says to himself,--\"God\nmade me; I feel this; and shall I dare to dishonor him by infamous\nthoughts, criminal actions, and base desires?\" His mind agreed with his\nconversation. Marcus Aurelius, on the throne of Europe and two parts of\nour hemisphere, did not think otherwise than the slave Epictetus. The\none was never humiliated by meanness, nor the other dazzled by\ngreatness; and when they wrote their thoughts it was for the use of\ntheir disciples, and not to be extolled in the papers. Pray, in your\nopinion, were not Locke, Newton, Tillotson, Penn, Clarke, the good man\ncalled \"The Man of Ross,\" and many others, in and beyond your island,\nmodels of virtue?\n\nYou have alluded to the cruel and unjust wars of which so many nations\nhave been guilty. You have described the abominations of Christians in\nMexico and Peru; you might add the St. Bartholomew of France and the\nIrish massacre. But are there not people who have always held in\nabhorrence the shedding of blood? Have not the Brahmins in all ages\ngiven this example to the world? and, even in this country, have we not\nnear us, in Pennsylvania, our Philadelphians, whom they attempt in vain\nto ridicule by the name of Quakers, and who have always hated war?\n\nHave we not the Carolinas, where the great Locke dictated laws? In these\ntwo lands of virtue, all citizens are equal; all consciences are free;\nall religions good; provided they worship God. There all men are\nbrethren. You have seen, Mr. Birton, the inhabitants of the Blue\nMountains lay down their arms before a descendant of Penn. They felt the\nforce of virtue. You persist in disavowing it. Because the earth\nproduces poisons as well as wholesome plants, will you prefer the\npoisons?\n\nBIRTON.--Oh, sir, your poisons are not to the point. If God made them,\nthey are his work. He is master, and does all. His hand directs\nCromwell's, when he signs the death warrant of Charles I. His arm\nconducts the headsman's, who severs his head from the body. No, I cannot\nadmit that God is a homicide.\n\nFREIND.--Nor I. Pray, hear me. You will admit that God governs by\ngeneral laws. According to these laws, Cromwell, a monster of fanaticism\nand envy, determines to sacrifice Charles I. to his own interest, which,\nno doubt, all men seek to promote, though they do not understand it\nalike. According to the laws of motion established by God, the\nexecutioner cuts off his head. But assuredly it is not God who commits\nthe assassination by a particular act of his will. God was not Cromwell,\nnor Ravaillac, nor Balthazar Gerard, nor the preaching friar, James\nClement. God does not permit, nor command, nor authorize crime. But he\nhas made man; he has established laws of motion; and these eternal laws\nare equally executed by the good man who stretches out his hand to the\npoor, and by the hand of a villain who assassinates his brother. In the\nsame way that God did not extinguish the sun, or swallow up Spain, to\npunish Cortez, Almagro, and Pizarro, so, also, he does not send a\ncompany of angels to London, nor make a hundred thousand pipes of\nBurgundy to descend from heaven to delight the hearts of his dear\nEnglishmen, when they do good. His general providence would become\nridiculous, if thus made manifest to every individual; and this is so\nstriking, that God never punishes a criminal immediately, by a decided\nstroke of his power. He lets the sun shine on the evil and the good. If\nsome wretches expire in their crimes, it is by the general laws that\ngovern the world. I have read in a great book, by a Frenchman called\nM\u00e9zeray, that God caused our Henry V. to suffer a painful death, because\nhe dared to sit on the throne of a Christian king.\n\nThe physical part of a bad action is the effect of the primary laws\ngiven to matter by the hand of God. All moral evil is the effect of the\nliberty which man abuses.\n\nIn a word, without plunging into the fogs of metaphysics, let us\nremember that the existence of God is proved. We have no longer to argue\non that point. Take God from the world, and does the assassination of\nCharles I. become more lawful? Do you feel less aversion toward his\nexecutioner? God exists. Enough. If he exists, he is just. Be, then,\njust also.\n\nBIRTON.--Your argument has strength and force, though it does not\naltogether exonerate God from being the author of physical and moral\nevil. I see your way of justifying him makes an impression on the\nassembly; but might it not be contrived that these laws should not\ninvolve such particular misfortunes? You have proved to me a powerful\nand eternal God, and I was almost on the point of believing. But I have\nsome terrible objections to make. Come, John, courage; let us not be\ncast down.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X.\n\nON ATHEISM.\n\n\nNight closed in beautifully. The atmosphere presented a vault of\ntransparent azure, spangled with golden stars. Such a spectacle always\naffects man, and inspires him with pleasant reveries. The worthy Parouba\nadmired the heavens, like a German when he beholds St. Peter's at Rome,\nor the Opera at Naples, for the first time.\n\n\"What a boldly arched vault,\" said he to Freind.\n\n\"It is no arch at all,\" replied Freind. \"The blue dome you behold is\nnothing more than a collection of vapors, which God has so disposed and\ncombined with the mechanism of your eyes, that, wherever you may be, you\nare still in the centre of your promenade, and perceive what is called\nheaven, arched above your head.\"\n\n\"And those stars, Mr. Freind?\"\n\n\"As I have already said, they are so many suns, round which other worlds\nrevolve. Far from being attached to that blue vault, remember that they\nare at various and prodigious distances from us. That star is twelve\nhundred millions of miles from our sun.\"\n\nThen, showing him the telescope he had brought, he pointed out to him\nthe planets;--Jupiter, with his four moons; Saturn, with his five moons\nand mysterious ring.\n\n\"It is the same light,\" said he, \"which proceeds from all these\nluminaries, and comes to us from this planet, in a quarter of an hour,\nand from that star, in six months.\"\n\nParouba was deeply impressed, and said: \"The heavens proclaim a God.\"\nAll the crew looked on with admiration. But the pertinacious Birton,\nunmoved, continued as follows:\n\nBIRTON.--Be it so! There is a God, I grant it. But what is that to you\nand me? What connection is there between the superior Being and worms of\nthe earth? What relation is there between his essence and ours?\nEpicurus, when he supposed a God in the planets, did well to conclude\nthat he took no part in our horrors and follies; that we could neither\nplease nor offend him; that he had no need of us; nor we of him. You\nadmit a God, more worthy of the human mind than the God of Epicurus, or\nthe gods of the east and west: but if you assert, with so many others,\nthat God made the world and man for his own glory; that he formerly\nrequired sacrifices of oxen for his glory; that he appeared for his\nglory in our biped form, you would, I think, be asserting an absurdity.\nThe love of glory is nothing but pride. A proud man is a conceited\nfellow, such as Shakespeare would introduce in his plays. This epithet\ncannot suit God--it does not agree with the divine nature--any more than\ninjustice, cruelty or inconstancy. If God condescended to regulate the\nuniverse, it could only be to make others happy. Has he done so?\n\nFREIND.--He has doubtless succeeded with all just spirits. They will be\nhappy one day; if they are not so now.\n\nBIRTON.--Happy! How? When? Who told you so?\n\nFREIND.--His justice.\n\nBIRTON.--Will you tell me that we shall live eternally--that we have\nimmortal souls, after admitting that the Jews, whom you boast of having\nsucceeded, did not entertain this notion of immortality up to the time\nof Herod? This idea of an immortal soul was invented by the Brahmins,\nadopted by the Persians, Chaldeans, and Greeks, and was for a long time\nunknown to the insignificant and superstitious Jewish tribes. Alas! sir,\nhow do we know that we have souls? or how do we know but other animals,\nwho have similar passions, wills, appetites, and memories, so\nincomprehensible to us, have not souls as well?\n\nHitherto I have thought that there is in nature a power by which we have\nthe faculty of life in all our body,--walking with our feet,--taking\nwith our hands,--seeing with our eyes, feeling with our nerves,\nthinking with our brain,--and that all this is called the soul, which is\nmerely a vague word, signifying the unknown principle of our faculties.\nWith you, I will call God the intelligent principle animating nature;\nbut has he condescended to reveal himself to us?\n\nFREIND. Yes, by his works.\n\nBIRTON.--Has he revealed his laws, or spoken to us?\n\nFREIND.--Yes, by the voice of conscience. Is it true, that, if you\nkilled your Father and mother, your conscience would be a prey to a\nremorse as terrible as it would be involuntary? Is not this truth avowed\nand felt throughout the world? To come down to lesser crimes,--do they\nnot all revolt us at the first glance,--make us turn pale when we commit\nthem for the first time,--and leave in our hearts the stings of\nrepentance?\n\nBIRTON.--I must confess it.\n\nFREIND.--God, in thus speaking to your heart, has commanded you to\nabstain from crime. As for equivocal actions, which some condemn and\nothers approve, what can we do better than follow the grand rule of\nZoroaster,--\"When you are not sure whether the action you are about to\ncommit is good or bad, abstain from it.\"\n\nBIRTON.--An admirable maxim, and doubtless the most beautiful ever\nadvanced in morals. I admit that, from time to time, God has raised up\nmen to teach virtue to their degraded fellows. I apologize to you for\nspeaking lightly of virtue.\n\nFREIND.--Rather apologize to the Supreme Being, who can reward and\npunish eternally.\n\nBIRTON.--What! will God punish me for yielding to passions he has given\nme?\n\nFREIND.--He has given you passions, with which you can do both good and\nevil. I do not tell you he will punish eternally; nor how he will\npunish; for no one can know that. The Brahmins were the first to\nconceive a place of imprisonment for those who had revolted from God;\nthey were shut up in a description of hell, called Onderah, but were\ngradually liberated at various periods. Hence we have our mixture of\nvirtues, vices, pleasures, and calamities. This conceit is\ningenious;--and that of Pandora and Prometheus more so. Less polished\nnations have vulgurly imitated the same fable. These inventions are the\nfancies of Eastern philosophy. All I can say is, that if by abusing\nyour liberty you have done evil, you cannot say God will not punish you.\n\nBIRTON.--I have tried to convince myself that he could not; but in vain.\nI confess I have abused my liberty, and that God may well punish me. But\nI cannot be punished when I have ceased to exist.\n\nFREIND.--The best course is to do well, while you exist.\n\nBIRTON.--To do well! Well, I confess I think you are right. It is the\nbest course.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nI wish, my dear friend, you had witnessed the effect of Freind's\ndiscourse on both the English and Americans. The light saucy Birton\nbecame thoughtful and modest. John fell at his father's feet, with tears\nin his eyes, and his father embraced him. I shall now proceed to relate\nthe last scene of this interesting disputation.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nBIRTON.--I conceive that the great master of the universe is eternal;\nbut we, who are but of yesterday, may we presume to expect immortality?\nAll beings around us perish, from the insect devoured by the swallow, to\nthe elephant, eaten by worms.\n\nFREIND.--Nothing perishes; but all things change. The genus of animals\nand vegetables subsist, develop, and multiply. Why can you not allow\nthat God might preserve the principle which makes us act and think, of\nwhatever nature it may be? God preserve me from making a system; but\ncertainly there is in us something that wills and thinks. This\nsomething, formerly called a monad, is imperceptible. God has given it\nus, or, rather, God has given us to it. Are you sure he cannot preserve\nit in being? Can you give me any proof?\n\nBIRTON.--No! I have sought for a proof in all the atheistical books\nwithin my reach; and especially in the third _Book of Lucrece_; but I\nnever found any thing but conjectures.\n\nFREIND.--And shall we on simple conjecture give ourselves up to fatal\npassions, and live like brutes, with no other restraint upon us than the\nfear of men, rendered eternally cruel to each other by their mutual\ndread? For we always wish to destroy what we fear. Think, sir! think\nseriously, my son John. To expect neither reward nor punishment is the\ntrue spirit of atheism. What is the use of a God who has no power over\nyou? As though one should say, \"There is a very powerful king in\nChina,\" I reply, \"Success to him, let him keep in his territory,--I, in\nmine. I care no more for him than he cares for me. He has no more\ncontrol over me than a canon of Windsor over a member of parliament.\"\nThen should I be a God to myself,--Sacrificing the whole world to my\ncaprice? And, recognizing no law, I should only consider myself? If\nothers are sheep, I should become the wolf. If they choose to play the\nchicken, I should play the fox.\n\nI will presume, (God forbid it), that all Englishmen are atheists. I\nwill allow that there may be some peaceable citizens, quiet by nature,\nrich enough to be honest, regulated by honor, and so attentive to\ndemeanor, that they contrive to live together in society. They cultivate\nthe arts which improve morals; they live at peace in the innocent gaiety\nof honest people. But the poor and needy atheist, sure of impunity,\nwould be a fool if he did not assassinate or steal to get money. Then\nwould all the bonds of society be sundered. All secret crimes would\ninundate the world, and, like locusts, though at first imperceptible,\nwould overspread the earth. The common people would become hordes of\nthieves, like those of our day, of whom not a tenth part are hung at our\nsessions. They would pass their wretched lives in taverns, with bad\nwomen. They would fight together, and fall down drunk amidst the pewter\npots with which they break each other's heads. Nor would they rise but\nto steal and murder again,---to recommence the same round of hideous\nbrutality. Who, then, would restrain great kings in their fury? An\natheist king is more dangerous than a fanatical Ravaillac.\n\nAtheism abounded in Italy during the fifteenth century. What was the\nconsequence? It was as common a matter to poison another, as to invite\nhim to supper. The stroke of the stiletto was as frequent as an embrace.\nThere were then professors of crime; as we now have professors of music\nand mathematics. Churches, even, were the favorite scenes of murder, and\nprinces were slain at the altar. In this way, Pope Sextus IV. and\narchbishop of Pisa put to death two of the most accomplished princes of\nEurope. Explain, my dear friend, to Parouba and his children, what I\nmean by a pope and an archbishop; but tell them we have no such monsters\nnow. But to resume: A Duke of Milan was also slain in a church. Every\none knows the astonishing horrors of Alexander VI. Had such morals\ncontinued, Italy would have been more desolate than Peru after the\ninvasion.\n\nFaith, then, in a God who rewards good actions, punishes the bad, and\nforgives lesser faults, is most useful to mankind. It is the only\nrestraint on powerful men, who insolently commit crimes on the public,\nand on others who skillfully perpetrate offences. I do not tell you to\nmingle, with this necessary faith, superstitious notions that disgrace\nit. Atheism is a monster that would prey on mankind only to satisfy its\nvoracity. Superstition is another phantom, preying upon men as a deity.\nI have often observed that an atheist may be cured; but we rarely cure\nsuperstition radically. The atheist is generally an inquiring man, who\nis deceived; the superstitious man is a brutal fool, having no ideas of\nhis own. An atheist might assault Ephigenia when on the point of\nmarrying Achilles; but a fanatic would piously sacrifice her on the\naltar, and think he did service to Jupiter. An atheist would steal a\ngolden vessel from the altar to feast his favorites, but the fanatic\nwould celebrate an _auto-da-fe_ in the same church, and sing hymns while\nhe was causing Jews to be burned alive. Yes, my friends, superstition\nand atheism are the two poles of a universe in confusion. Tread these\npaths with a firm step; believe in a good God, and _be_ good. This is\nall that the great philosophers, Penn and Locke, require of their\npeople.\n\nAnswer me, Mr. Birton,--and you, my friends,--what harm can the worship\nof God, joined to the happiness of a virtuous life, do you? We might be\nseized with mortal sickness, even now while I am speaking; who, then,\nwould not wish to have lived innocently? Read, in Shakespeare, the death\nof our wicked Richard III., and see how the ghosts of those he had\nmurdered haunted his imagination. Witness the death of Charles IX. after\nthe horrors of St. Bartholomew. In vain his chaplain assured him he had\ndone well. His blood started from every pore; all the blood he had shed\ncried out against him! Believe me, all these monsters were tortured by\nremorse, and died in despair.\n\nBirton and his friends could contain themselves no longer. They fell at\nFreind's feet, \"Yes,\" said Birton, \"I believe in God, and I believe\nyou.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI.\n\nRETURN TO ENGLAND--JOHN'S MARRIAGE.\n\n\nWe were already near Parouba's house; and we supped there. John could\neat nothing. He sat apart in tears. His father went to console him.\n\n\"Ah!\" said John, \"I do not deserve such a father. I shall die of shame\nfor yielding to the fascination of that wicked Clive-Hart. I am the\ncause of Miss Primerose's death; just now, when you talked of poison, I\nshuddered; for I thought I saw Clive-Hart presenting the horrible\ndraught to Primerose. How could I have so far lost myself as to\naccompany so vile a creature? I was blind. I did not discover my error\ntill she was taken by the savages. In a fit of rage she almost admitted\nher guilt. From that moment, I have loathed her; and, for a punishment,\nthe form of Primerose is ever before me, and seems to say, 'I died\nbecause I loved you.'\" His father said a blameless life could alone\nrepair his past errors.\n\nThe next day we sailed for England, after giving presents to the\nParoubas. Tears mingled with our adieus; and Birton, who had been only\ngiddy, already seemed a reasonable person.\n\nWhen we were out at sea, Freind said to John, in my presence: \"Do you\nstill cherish the memory of the amiable Primerose?\" These words so wrung\nthe heart of the young man, that I feared he would throw himself into\nthe sea.\n\n\"Console yourself, then,\" said Freind. \"Miss Primerose is alive, and\nloves you still.\"\n\nFreind had received certain information on this subject from his\nservant, who had written to him punctually by every ship. Mr. Mead, who\nhas since acquired so great a reputation by his skill in the\ncounteraction of poisons, had saved the young lady's life. In a moment,\nJohn passed from despair to extreme joy. I will not attempt to describe\nthe change. It was the happiest moment of his life. Birton and his\nfriends shared his joy. What more shall I say? The worthy Freind was as\na father to all. The wedding was celebrated at Dr. Mead's. Birton, now\nanother man, also married; and he and John are now among the best people\nin England.\n\nAdmit, that a wise man can instruct fools.\n\n[Illustration: Epictetus, the slave. From a painting by Giuseppe\nRossi.--Marcus Aurelius, on the throne of Europe and two parts of our\nhemisphere, did not think otherwise than the slave Epictetus.]\n\n[Illustration: Grand entrance to palace. (From Layard's Discoveries\namong the ruins of Nineveh and Babylon.)]\n\n\n\n\nPRINCESS OF BABYLON\n\n[Illustration: The Ph\u0153nix][1]\n\n\n\n\nI.\n\nROYAL CONTEST FOR THE HAND OF FORMOSANTA.\n\n\nThe aged Belus, king of Babylon, thought himself the first man upon\nearth; for all his courtiers told him so, and his historians proved it.\nWe know that his palace and his park, situated at a few parafangs from\nBabylon, extended between the Euphrates and the Tigris, which washed\nthose enchanted banks. His vast house, three thousand feet in front,\nalmost reached the clouds. The platform was surrounded with a balustrade\nof white marble, fifty feet high, which supported colossal statues of\nall the kings and great men of the empire. This platform, composed of\ntwo rows of bricks, covered with a thick surface of lead from one\nextremity to the other, bore twelve feet of earth; and upon the earth\nwere raised groves of olive, orange, citron, palm, cocoa, and cinnamon\ntrees, and stock gillyflowers, which formed alleys that the rays of the\nsun could not penetrate.\n\nThe waters of the Euphrates running, by the assistance of pumps, in a\nhundred canals, formed cascades of six thousand feet in length in the\npark, and a hundred thousand _jets d'eau_, whose height was scarce\nperceptible. They afterward flowed into the Euphrates, from whence they\ncame. The gardens of Semiramis, which astonished Asia several ages\nafter, were only a feeble imitation of these ancient prodigies, for in\nthe time of Semiramis, every thing began to degenerate amongst men and\nwomen.\n\nBut what was more admirable in Babylon, and eclipsed every thing else,\nwas the only daughter of the king, named Formosanta. It was from her\npictures and statues, that in succeeding times Praxiteles sculptured his\nAphrodita, and the Venus of Medicis. Heavens! what a difference between\nthe original and the copies! so that king Belus was prouder of his\ndaughter than of his kingdom. She was eighteen years old. It was\nnecessary she should have a husband worthy of her; but where was he to\nbe found? An ancient oracle had ordained, that Formosanta could not\nbelong to any but him who could bend the bow of Nimrod.\n\nThis Nimrod, \"a mighty hunter before the Lord,\" (_Gen. x:9_), had left a\nbow seventeen Babylonian feet in length, made of ebony, harder than the\niron of mount Caucasus, which is wrought in the forges of Derbent; and\nno mortal since Nimrod could bend this astonishing bow.\n\nIt was again said, \"that the arm which should bend this bow would kill\nthe most terrible and ferocious lion that should be let loose in the\nCircus of Babylon.\" This was not all. The bender of the bow, and the\nconquerer of the lion, should overthow all his rivals; but he was above\nall things to be very sagacious, the most magnificent and most virtuous\nof men, and possess the greatest curiosity in the whole universe.\n\nThree kings appeared, who were bold enough to claim Formosanta. Pharaoh\nof Egypt, the Shah of India, and the great Khan of the Scythians. Belus\nappointed the day and place of combat, which was to be at the extremity\nof his park, in the vast expanse surrounded by the joint waters of the\nEuphrates and the Tigris. Round the lists a marble amphitheatre was\nerected, which might contain five hundred thousand spectators. Opposite\nthe amphitheatre was placed the king's throne. He was to appear with\nFormosanta, accompanied by the whole court; and on the right and left\nbetween the throne and the amphitheatre, there were other thrones and\nseats for the three kings, and for all the other sovereigns who were\ndesirous to be present at this august ceremony.\n\nThe king of Egypt arrived the first, mounted upon the bull Apis, and\nholding in his hand the cithern of Isis. He was followed by two thousand\npriests, clad in linen vestments whiter than snow, two thousand eunuchs,\ntwo thousand magicians, and two thousand warriors.\n\nThe king of India came soon after in a car drawn by twelve elephants. He\nhad a train still more numerous and more brilliant than Pharaoh of\nEgypt.\n\nThe last who appeared was the king of the Scythians. He had none with\nhim but chosen warriors, armed with bows and arrows. He was mounted upon\na superb tiger, which he had tamed, and which was as tall as any of the\nfinest Persian horses. The majestic and important mien of this king\neffaced the appearance of his rivals; his naked arms, as nervous as they\nwere white, seemed already to bend the bow of Nimrod.\n\nThese three lovers immediately prostrated themselves before Belus and\nFormosanta. The king of Egypt presented the princess with two of the\nfinest crocodiles of the Nile, two sea horses, two zebras, two Egyptian\nrats, and two mummies, with the books of the great Hermes, which he\njudged to be the scarcest things upon earth.\n\nThe king of India offered her a hundred elephants, each bearing a wooden\ngilt tower, and laid at her feet the _vedam_, written by the hand of\nXaca himself.\n\nThe king of the Scythians, who could neither write nor read, presented a\nhundred warlike horses with black fox skin housings.\n\nThe princess appeared with a downcast look before her lovers, and\nreclined herself with such a grace as was at once modest and noble.\n\nBelus ordered the kings to be conducted to the thrones that were\nprepared for them. \"Would I had three daughters,\" said he to them, \"I\nshould make six people this day happy!\" He then made the competitors\ncast lots which should try Nimrod's bow first. Their names inscribed\nwere put into a golden casque. That of the Egyptian king came out first,\nthen the name of the King of India appeared. The king of Scythia,\nviewing the bow and his rivals, did not complain at being the third.\n\nWhilst these brilliant trials were preparing, twenty thousand pages and\ntwenty thousand youthful maidens distributed, without any disorder,\nrefreshments to the spectators between the rows of seats. Every one\nacknowledged that the gods had instituted kings for no other cause than\nevery day to give festivals, upon condition they should be\ndiversified--that life is too short for any other purpose--that\nlawsuits, intrigues, wars, the altercations of theologists, which\nconsume human life, are horrible and absurd--that man is born only for\nhappiness that he would not passionately and incessantly pursue\npleasure, were he not designed for it--that the essence of human nature\nis to enjoy ourselves, and all the rest is folly. This excellent moral\nwas never controverted but by facts.\n\nWhilst preparations were making for determining the fate of Formosanta,\na young stranger, mounted upon an unicorn, accompanied by his valet,\nmounted on a like animal, and bearing upon his hand a large bird,\nappeared at the barrier. The guards were surprised to observe in this\nequipage, a figure that had an air of divinity. He had, as hath been\nsince related, the face of Adonis upon the body of Hercules; it was\nmajesty accompanied by the graces. His black eye-brows and flowing fair\ntresses, wore a mixture of beauty unknown at Babylon, and charmed all\nobservers. The whole amphitheatre rose up, the better to view the\nstranger. All the ladies of the court viewed him with looks of\nastonishment. Formosanta herself, who had hitherto kept her eyes fixed\nupon the ground, raised them and blushed. The three kings turned pale.\nThe spectators, in comparing Formosanta with the stranger, cried out,\n\"There is no other in the world, but this young man, who can be so\nhandsome as the princess.\"\n\nThe ushers, struck with astonishment, asked him if he was a king? The\nstranger replied, that he had not that honor, but that he had come from\na distant country, excited by curiosity, to see if there were any king\nworthy of Formosanta. He was introduced into the first row of the\namphitheatre, with his valet, his two unicorns, and his bird. He\nsaluted, with great respect, Belus, his daughter, the three kings, and\nall the assembly. He then took his seat, not without blushing. His two\nunicorns lay down at his feet; his bird perched upon his shoulder; and\nhis valet, who carried a little bag, placed himself by his side.\n\nThe trials began. The bow of Nimrod was taken out of its golden case.\nThe first master of the ceremonies, followed by fifty pages, and\npreceded by twenty trumpets, presented it to the king of Egypt, who made\nhis priests bless it; and supporting it upon the head of the bull Apis,\nhe did not question his gaining this first victory. He dismounted, and\ncame into the middle of the circus. He tries, exerts all his strength,\nand makes such ridiculous contortions, that the whole amphitheatre\nre-echoes with laughter, and Formosanta herself could not help smiling.\n\nHis high almoner approached him:\n\n\"Let your majesty give up this idle honor, which depends entirely upon\nthe nerves and muscles. You will triumph in every thing else. You will\nconquer the lion, as you are possessed of the favor of Osiris. The\nPrincess of Babylon is to belong to the prince who is most sagacious,\nand you have solved enigmas. She is to wed the most virtuous: you are\nsuch, as you have been educated by the priests of Egypt. The most\ngenerous is to marry her, and you have presented her with two of the\nhandsomest crocodiles, and two of the finest rats in all the Delta. You\nare possessed of the bull Apis, and the books of Hermes, which are the\nscarcest things in the universe. No one can hope to dispute Formosanta\nwith you.\"\n\n\"You are in the right,\" said the King of Egypt, and resumed his throne.\n\nThe bow was then put in the hands of the king of India. It blistered his\nhands for a fortnight; but he consoled himself in presuming that the\nScythian King would not be more fortunate than himself.\n\nThe Scythian handled the bow in his turn. He united skill with strength.\nThe bow seemed to have some elasticity in his hands. He bent it a\nlittle, but he could not bring it near a curve. The spectators, who had\nbeen prejudiced in his favor by his agreeable aspect, lamented his ill\nsuccess, and concluded that the beautiful princess would never be\nmarried.\n\nThe unknown youth leaped into the arena and addressing himself to the\nking of Scythia said:\n\n\"Your majesty need not be surprised at not having entirely succeeded.\nThese ebony bows are made in my country. There is a peculiar method in\nusing them. Your merit is greater in having bent it, than if I were to\ncurve it.\"\n\nHe then took an arrow and placing it upon the string, bent the bow of\nNimrod, and shot the arrow beyond the gates. A million hands at once\napplauded the prodigy. Babylon re-echoed with acclamations; and all the\nladies agreed it was fortunate for so handsome a youth to be so strong.\n\nHe then took out of his pocket a small ivory tablet, wrote upon it with\na golden pencil, fixed the tablet to the bow, and then presented it to\nthe princess with such a grace as charmed every spectator. He then\nmodestly returned to his place between his bird and his valet. All\nBabylon was in astonishment; the three kings were confounded, whilst the\nstranger did not seem to pay the least attention to what had happened.\n\nFormosanta was still more surprised to read upon the ivory tablet, tied\nto the bow, these lines, written in the best Chaldean:\n\n     L'arc de Nembrod est celui de la guerre;\n     L'arc de l'amour est celui du bonheur;\n     Vous le portez. Par vous ce Dieu vainqueur\n     Est devenu le maitre de la terre.\n     Trois Rois puissants, trois rivaux aujourd'hui,\n     Osent pretendre a l'honneur de vous plaire.\n     Je ne sais pas qui votre c\u0153ur prefere,\n     Mais l'univers sera jaloux de lui.\n\n    [The bow of Nimrod is that of war;\n     The bow of love is that of happiness\n     Which you possess. Through you this conquering God\n     Has become master of the earth.\n     Three powerful kings,--three rivals now,\n     Dare aspire to the honor of pleasing you.\n     I know not whom your heart may prefer,\n     But the universe will be jealous of him.]\n\nThis little madrigal did not displease the princess; but it was\ncriticised by some of the lords of the ancient court, who said that, in\nformer times, Belus would have been compared to the sun, and Formosanta\nto the moon; his neck to a tower, and her breast to a bushel of wheat.\nThey said the stranger had no sort of imagination, and that he had lost\nsight of the rules of true poetry, but all the ladies thought the verses\nvery gallant. They were astonished that a man who handled a bow so well\nshould have so much wit. The lady of honor to the princess said to her:\n\n\"Madam, what great talents are here entirely lost? What benefit will\nthis young man derive from his wit, and his skill with Nimrod's bow?\"\n\n\"Being admired!\" said Formosanta.\n\n\"Ah!\" said the lady, \"one more madrigal, and he might well be beloved.\"\n\nThe king of Babylon, having consulted his sages, declared that though\nnone of these kings could bend the bow of Nimrod, yet, nevertheless, his\ndaughter was to be married, and that she should belong to him who could\nconquer the great lion, which was purposely kept in training in his\ngreat menagerie.\n\nThe king of Egypt, upon whose education all the wisdom of Egypt had been\nexhausted, judged it very ridiculous to expose a king to the ferocity of\nwild beasts in order to be married. He acknowledged that he considered\nthe possession of Formosanta of inestimable value; but he believed that\nif the lion should strangle him, he could never wed this fair\nBabylonian. The king of India held similar views to the king of Egypt.\nThey both concluded that the king of Babylon was laughing at them, and\nthat they should send for armies to punish him--that they had many\nsubjects who would think themselves highly honored to die in the service\nof their masters, without it costing them a single hair of their sacred\nheads,--that they could easily dethrone the king of Babylon, and then\nthey would draw lots for the fair Formosanta.\n\nThis agreement being made, the two kings sent each an express into his\nrespective country, with orders to assemble three hundred thousand men\nto carry off Formosanta.\n\nHowever, the king of Scythia descended alone into the arena, scimitar in\nhand. He was not distractedly enamored with Formosanta's charms. Glory\ntill then had been his only passion, and it had led him to Babylon. He\nwas willing to show that if the kings of India and Egypt were so prudent\nas not to tilt with lions, he was courageous enough not to decline the\ncombat, and he would repair the honor of diadems. His uncommon valor\nwould not even allow him to avail himself of the assistance of his\ntiger. He advanced singly, slightly armed with a shell casque ornamented\nwith gold, and shaded with three horses' tails as white as snow.\n\nOne of the most enormous and ferocious lions that fed upon the\nAntilibanian mountains was let loose upon him. His tremendous paws\nappeared capable of tearing the three kings to pieces at once, and his\ngullet to devour them. The two proud champions fled with the utmost\nprecipitancy and in the most rapid manner to each other. The courageous\nScythian plunged his sword into the lion's mouth; but the point meeting\nwith one of those thick teeth that nothing can penetrate, was broken;\nand the monster of the woods, more furious from his wound, had already\nimpressed his fearful claws into the monarch's sides.\n\nThe unknown youth, touched with the peril of so brave a prince, leaped\ninto the arena swift as lightning, and cut off the lion's head with as\nmuch dexterity as we have lately seen, in our carousals, youthful\nknights knock off the heads of black images.\n\nThen drawing out a small box, he presented it to the Scythian king,\nsaying to him.\n\n\"Your majesty will here find the genuine dittany, which grows in my\ncountry. Your glorious wounds will be healed in a moment. Accident alone\nprevented your triumph over the lion. Your valor is not the less to be\nadmired.\"\n\nThe Scythian king, animated more with gratitude than jealousy, thanked\nhis benefactor; and, after having tenderly embraced him, returned to his\nseat to apply the dittany to his wounds.\n\nThe stranger gave the lion's head to his valet, who, having washed it at\nthe great fountain which was beneath the amphitheatre, and drained all\nthe blood, took an iron instrument out of his little bag, with which\nhaving drawn the lion's forty teeth, he supplied their place with forty\ndiamonds of equal size.\n\nHis master, with his usual modesty, returned to his place; he gave the\nlion's head to his bird:--\"Beauteous bird,\" said he, \"carry this small\nhomage, and lay it at the feet of Formosanta.\"\n\n[Illustration: \"The unknown youth, touched with the peril of so brave a\nprince, leaped into the arena swift as lightning, and cut off the lion's\nhead.\"]\n\nThe bird winged its way with the dreadful triumph in one of its talons,\nand presented it to the princess; bending with humility his neck, and\ncrouching before her. The sparkling diamonds dazzled the eyes of every\nbeholder. Such magnificence was unknown even in superb Babylon. The\nemerald, the topaz, the sapphire, and the pyrope, were as yet considered\nas the most precious ornaments. Belus and the whole court were struck\nwith admiration. The bird which presented this present surprised them\nstill more. It was of the size of an eagle, but its eyes were as soft\nand tender as those of the eagle are fierce and threatening. Its bill\nwas rose color, and seemed somewhat to resemble Formosanta's handsome\nmouth. Its neck represented all the colors of Iris, but still more\nstriking and brilliant. Gold, in a thousand shades, glittered upon its\nplumage. Its feet resembled a mixture of silver and purple. And the\ntails of those beautiful birds, which have since drawn Juno's car, did\nnot equal the splendor of this incomparable bird.\n\nThe attention, curiosity, astonishment, and ecstasy of the whole court\nwere divided between the jewels and the bird. It had perched upon the\nbalustrade between Belus and his daughter Formosanta. She petted it,\ncaressed it, and kissed it. It seemed to receive her attentions with a\nmixture of pleasure and respect. When the princess gave the bird a kiss,\nit returned the embrace, and then looked upon her with languishing eyes.\nShe gave it biscuits and pistachios, which it received in its\npurple-silvered claw, and carried to its bill with inexpressible grace.\n\nBelus, who had attentively considered the diamonds, concluded that\nscarce any one of his provinces could repay so valuable a present. He\nordered that more magnificent gifts should be prepared for the stranger\nthan those destined for the three monarchs, \"This young man,\" said he,\n\"is doubtless son to the emperor of China; or of that part of the world\ncalled Europe, which I have heard spoken of; or of Africa, which is said\nto be in the vicinity of the kingdom of Egypt.\"\n\nHe immediately sent his first equerry to compliment the stranger, and\nask him whether he was himself the sovereign, or son to the sovereign of\none of those empires; and why, being possessed of such surprising\ntreasures, he had come with nothing but his valet and a little bag?\n\nWhilst the equerry advanced toward the amphitheatre to execute his\ncommission, another valet arrived upon an unicorn. This valet,\naddressing himself to the young man, said. \"Ormar, your father is\napproaching the end of his life: I am come to acquaint you with it.\"\n\nThe stranger raised his eyes to heaven, whilst tears streamed from them,\nand answered only by saying, \"_Let us depart_.\"\n\nThe equerry, after having paid Belus's compliments to the conqueror of\nthe lion, to the giver of the forty diamonds, and to the master of the\nbeautiful bird, asked the valet, \"Of what kingdom was the father of this\nyoung hero sovereign?\"\n\nThe valet replied:\n\n\"His father is an old shepherd, who is much beloved in his district.\"\n\nDuring this conversation, the stranger had already mounted his unicorn.\nHe said to the equerry:\n\n\"My lord, vouchsafe to prostrate me at the feet of King Belus and his\ndaughter. I must entreat her to take particular care of the bird I leave\nwith her, as it is a nonpareil like herself.\"\n\nIn uttering these last words he set off, and flew like lightning. The\ntwo valets followed him, and in an instant he was out of sight.\n\nFormosanta could not refrain from shrieking. The bird, turning toward\nthe amphitheatre where his master had been seated, seemed greatly\nafflicted to find him gone; then viewing steadfastly the princess, and\ngently rubbing her beautiful hand with his bill, he seemed to devote\nhimself to her service.\n\nBelus, more astonished than ever, hearing that this very extraordinary\nyoung man was the son of a shepherd, could not believe it. He dispatched\nmessengers after him; but they soon returned with the information, that\nthe three unicorns, upon which these men were mounted, could not be\novertaken; and that, according to the rate they went, they must go a\nhundred leagues a day.\n\nEvery one reasoned upon this strange adventure, and wearied themselves\nwith conjectures. How can the son of a shepherd make a present of forty\nlarge diamonds? How comes it that he is mounted upon an unicorn? This\nbewildered them, and Formosanta, whilst she caressed her bird, was sunk\ninto a profound reverie.\n\n\n[1] The ph\u0153ix--born of myth and fable--was supposed to have originated\nin Arabia. In size it resembled an eagle, and was said to exist singly.\nAt the end of six hundred years, it built for itself a nest filled with\nmyrrh and the choicest spices. This was ignited by the ardent rays of\nthe sun, and in it the ph\u0153nix was consumed in flames of fragrance. It\nwas believed, however, that it soon rose again, from its own ashes, in\nrenewed youth, strength, and beauty; and therefore it was considered by\nthe ancients as symbolical of \"the resurrection\" and also of\nimmortality.--E.\n\n\n\n\nII.\n\nTHE KING OF BABYLON CONVENES HIS COUNCIL, AND CONSULTS THE ORACLE.\n\n\nPrincess Aldea, Formosanta's cousin-german, who was very well shaped,\nand almost as handsome as the King's daughter, said to her:\n\n\"Cousin, I know not whether this demi-god be the son of a shepherd, but\nmethinks he has fulfilled all the conditions stipulated for your\nmarriage. He has bent Nimrod's bow; he has conquered the lion; he has a\ngood share of sense, having written for you extempore a very pretty\nmadrigal. After having presented you with forty large diamonds, you\ncannot deny that he is the most generous of men. In his bird he\npossessed the most curious thing upon earth. His virtue cannot be\nequaled, since he departed without hesitation as soon as he learned his\nfather was ill, though he might have remained and enjoyed the pleasure\nof your society. The oracle is fulfilled in every particular, except\nthat wherein he is to overcome his rivals. But he has done more; he has\nsaved the life of the only competitor he had to fear; and when the\nobject is to surpass the other two, I believe you cannot doubt but that\nhe will easily succeed.\"\n\n\"All that you say is very true,\" replied Formosanta: \"but is it possible\nthat the greatest of men, and perhaps the most amiable too, should be\nthe son of a shepherd?\"\n\nThe lady of honor, joining in the conversation, said that the title of\nshepherd was frequently given to kings--that they were called shepherds\nbecause they attended very closely to their flocks--that this was\ndoubtless a piece of ill-timed pleasantry in his valet--that this young\nhero had not come so badly equipped, but to show how much his personal\nmerit alone was above the fastidious parade of kings. The princess made\nno answer, but in giving her bird a thousand tender kisses.\n\nA great festival was nevertheless prepared for the three kings, and for\nall the princes who had come to the feast. The king's daughter and niece\nwere to do the honors. The king distributed presents worthy the\nmagnificence of Babylon. Belus, during the time the repast was being\nserved, assembled his council to discuss the marriage of the beautiful\nFormosanta, and this is the way he delivered himself as a great\npolitician:\n\n\"I am old: I know not what is best to do with my daughter, or upon whom\nto bestow her. He who deserves her is nothing but a mean shepherd. The\nkings of India and Egypt are cowards. The king of the Scythians would be\nvery agreeable to me, but he has not performed any one of the conditions\nimposed. I will again consult the oracle. In the meantime, deliberate\namong you, and we will conclude agreeably to what the oracle says; for a\nking should follow nothing but the dictates of the immortal gods.\"\n\nHe then repaired to the temple: the oracle answered in few words\naccording to custom: _Thy daughter shall not be married until she hath\ntraversed the globe_. In astonishment, Belus returned to the council,\nand related this answer.\n\nAll the ministers had a profound respect for oracles. They therefore all\nagreed, or at least appeared to agree, that they were the foundation of\nreligion--that reason should be mute before them--that it was by their\nmeans that kings reigned over their people--that without oracles there\nwould be neither virtue nor repose upon earth.\n\nAt length, after having testified the most profound veneration for them,\nthey almost all concluded that this oracle was impertinent, and should\nnot be obeyed--that nothing could be more indecent for a young woman,\nand particularly the daughter of the great king of Babylon, than to run\nabout, without any particular destination--that this was the most\ncertain method to prevent her being married, or else engage her in a\nclandestine, shameful, and ridiculous union that,--in a word, this\noracle had not common sense.\n\nThe youngest of the ministers, named Onadase, who had more sense than\nthe rest, said that the oracle doubtless meant some pilgrimage of\ndevotion, and offered to be the princess's guide. The council approved\nof his opinion, but every one was for being her equerry. The king\ndetermined that the princess might go three hundred parasangs upon the\nroad to Arabia, to the temple whose saint had the reputation of\nprocuring young women happy marriages, and that the dean of the council\nshould accompany her. After this determination they went to supper.\n\n[Illustration: The Shrine at Bassora.--A devotee at the shrine imploring\nthe felicity of a happy marriage.]\n\n\n\n\nIII.\n\nROYAL FESTIVAL GIVEN IN HONOR OF THE KINGLY VISITORS. THE BIRD CONVERSES\nELOQUENTLY WITH FORMOSANTA.\n\n\nIn the centre of the gardens, between two cascades, an oval saloon,\nthree hundred feet in diameter was erected, whose azure roof,\nintersected with golden stars, represented all the constellations and\nplanets, each in its proper station; and this ceiling turned about, as\nwell as the canopy, by machines as invisible as those which direct the\ncelestial spheres. A hundred thousand flambeaux, inclosed in rich\ncrystal cylinders, illuminated the gardens and the dining-hall. A\nbuffet, with steps, contained twenty thousand vases and golden dishes;\nand opposite the buffet, upon other steps, were seated a great number of\nmusicians. Two other amphitheatres were decked out; the one with the\nfruits of each season, the other with crystal decanters, that sparkled\nwith the choicest wines.\n\nThe guests took their seats round a table divided into compartments that\nresembled flowers and fruits, all in precious stones. The beautiful\nFormosanta was placed between the kings of India and Egypt--the amiable\nAldea next the king of Scythia. There were about thirty princes, and\neach was seated next one of the handsomest ladies of the court. The king\nof Babylon, who was in the middle, opposite his daughter, seemed divided\nbetween the chagrin of being yet unable to effect her marriage, and the\npleasure of still beholding her. Formosanta asked leave to place her\nbird upon the table next her; the king approved of it.\n\nThe music, which continued during the repast, furnished every prince\nwith an opportunity of conversing with his female neighbor. The festival\nwas as agreeable as it was magnificent. A ragout was served before\nFormosanta, which her father was very fond of. The princess said it\nshould be carried to his majesty. The bird immediately took hold of it,\nand carried it in a miraculous manner to the king. Never was any thing\nmore astonishing witnessed. Belus caressed it as much as his daughter\nhad done. The bird afterward took its flight to return to her. It\ndisplayed, in flying, so fine a tail, and its extended wings set forth\nsuch a variety of brilliant colors--the gold of its plumage made such a\ndazzling eclat, that all eyes were fixed upon it. All the musicians were\nstruck motionless, and their instruments afforded harmony no longer.\nNone ate, no one spoke, nothing but a buzzing of admiration was to be\nheard. The Princess of Babylon kissed it during the whole supper,\nwithout considering whether there were any kings in the world. Those of\nIndia and Egypt felt their spite and indignation rekindle with double\nforce, and they resolved speedily to set their three hundred thousand\nmen in motion to obtain revenge.\n\nAs for the king of Scythia, he was engaged in entertaining the beautiful\nAldea. His haughty soul despising, without malice, Formosanta's\ninattention, had conceived for her more indifference than resentment.\n\"She is handsome,\" said he, \"I acknowledge: but she appears to me one of\nthose women who are entirely taken up with their own beauty, and who\nfancy that mankind are greatly obliged to them when they deign to appear\nin public. I should prefer an ugly complaisant woman, that exhibited\nsome amiability, to that beautiful statue. You have, madam, as many\ncharms as she possesses, and you, at least, condescend to converse with\nstrangers. I acknowledge to you with the sincerity of a Scythian, that I\nprefer you to your cousin.\"\n\nHe was, however, mistaken in regard to the character of Formosanta. She\nwas not so disdainful as she appeared. But his compliments were very\nwell received by the princess Aldea. Their conversation became very\ninteresting. They were well contented, and already certain of one\nanother before they left the table. After supper the guests walked in\nthe groves. The king of Scythia and Aldea did not fail to seek for a\nplace of retreat. Aldea, who was sincerity itself, thus declared herself\nto the prince:\n\n\"I do not hate my cousin, though she be handsomer than myself, and is\ndestined for the throne of Babylon. The honor of pleasing you may very\nwell stand in the stead of charms. I prefer Scythia with you, to the\ncrown of Babylon without you. But this crown belongs to me by right, if\nthere be any right in the world; for I am of the elder branch of the\nNimrod family, and Formosanta is only of the younger. Her grandfather\ndethroned mine, and put him to death.\"\n\n\"Such, then, are the rights of inheritance in the royal house of\nBabylon!\" said the Scythian. \"What was your grandfather's name?\"\n\n\"He was called Aldea, like me. My father bore the same name. He was\nbanished to the extremity of the empire with my mother; and Belus, after\ntheir death, having nothing to fear from me, was willing to bring me up\nwith his daughter. But he has resolved that I shall never marry.\"\n\n\"I will avenge the cause of your grandfather--of your father and also\nyour own cause,\" said the king of Scythia. \"I am responsible for your\nbeing married. I will carry you off the day after to-morrow by\nday-break--for we must dine to-morrow with the king of Babylon--and I\nwill return and support your rights with three hundred thousand men.\"\n\n\"I agree to it,\" said the beauteous Aldea: and, after having mutually\npledged their words of honor, they separated.\n\nThe incomparable Formosanta, before retiring to rest, had ordered a\nsmall orange tree, in a silver case, to be placed by the side of her\nbed, that her bird might perch upon it. Her curtains had long been\ndrawn, but she was not in the least disposed to sleep. Her heart was\nagitated, and her imagination excited. The charming stranger was ever in\nher thoughts. She fancied she saw him shooting an arrow with Nimrod's\nbow. She contemplated him in the act of cutting off the lion's head. She\nrepeated his madrigal. At length, she saw him retiring from the crowd\nupon his unicorn. Tears, sighs, and lamentations overwhelmed her at this\nreflection. At intervals, she cried out: \"Shall I then never see him\nmore? Will he never return?\"\n\n\"He will surely return,\" replied the bird from the top of the orange\ntree. \"Can one have seen you once, and not desire to see you again?\"\n\n\"Heavens! eternal powers! my bird speaks the purest Chaldean.\" In\nuttering these words she drew back the curtain, put out her hand to him,\nand knelt upon her bed, saying:\n\n\"Art thou a god descended upon earth? Art thou the great Oromasdes\nconcealed under this beautiful plumage? If thou art, restore me this\ncharming young man.\"\n\n\"I am nothing but a winged animal,\" replied the bird; \"but I was born at\nthe time when all animals still spoke; when birds, serpents, asses,\nhorses, and griffins, conversed familiarly with man. I would not speak\nbefore company, lest your ladies of honor should have taken me for a\nsorcerer. I would not discover myself to any but you.\"\n\nFormosanta was speechless, bewildered, and intoxicated with so many\nwonders. Desirous of putting a hundred questions to him at once, she at\nlength asked him how old he was.\n\n\"Only twenty-seven thousand nine hundred years and six months. I date my\nage from the little revolution of the equinoxes, and which is\naccomplished in about twenty-eight thousand of your years. There are\nrevolutions of a much greater extent, so are there beings much older\nthan me. It is twenty-two thousand years since I learnt Chaldean in one\nof my travels. I have always had a very great taste for the Chaldean\nlanguage, but my brethren, the other animals, have renounced speaking in\nyour climate.\"\n\n\"And why so, my divine bird?\"\n\n\"Alas! because men have accustomed themselves to eat us, instead of\nconversing and instructing themselves with us. Barbarians! should they\nnot have been convinced, that having the same organs with them, the same\nsentiments, the same wants, the same desires, we have also what is\ncalled a soul, the same as themselves;--that we are their brothers, and\nthat none should be dressed and eaten but the wicked? We are so far your\nbrothers, that the Supreme Being, the Omnipotent and Eternal Being,\nhaving made a compact with men, expressly comprehended us in the treaty.\nHe forbade you to nourish yourselves with our blood, and we to suck\nyours.\n\n\"The fables of your ancient Locman, translated into so many languages,\nwill be a testimony eternally subsisting of the happy commerce you\nformerly carried on with us. They all begin with these words: 'In the\ntime when beasts spoke.' It is true, there are many families among you\nwho keep up an incessant conversation with their dogs; but the dogs have\nresolved not to answer, since they have been compelled by whipping to go\na hunting, and become accomplices in the murder of our ancient and\ncommon friends, stags, deers, hares, and partridges.\n\n\"You have still some ancient poems in which horses speak, and your\ncoachmen daily address them in words; but in so barbarous a manner, and\nin uttering such infamous expressions, that horses, though formerly\nentertaining so great a kindness for you, now detest you.\n\n\"The country which is the residence of your charming stranger, the most\nperfect of men, is the only one in which your species has continued to\nlove ours, and to converse with us; and this is the only country in the\nworld where men are just.\"\n\n\"And where is the country of my dear incognito? What is the name of his\nempire? For I will no more believe he is a shepherd than that you are a\nbat.\"\n\n\"His country, is that of the Gangarids, a wise, virtuous, and invincible\npeople, who inhabit the eastern shore of the Ganges. The name of my\nfriend is Amazan. He is no king; and I know not whether he would so\nhumble himself as to be one. He has too great a love for his fellow\ncountrymen. He is a shepherd like them. But do not imagine that those\nshepherds resemble yours; who, covered with rags and tatters, watch\ntheir sheep, who are better clad than themselves; who groan under the\nburden of poverty, and who pay to an extortioner half the miserable\nstipend of wages which they receive from their masters. The Gangaridian\nshepherds are all born equal, and own the innumerable herds which cover\ntheir vast fields and subsist on the abundant verdure. These flocks are\nnever killed. It is a horrid crime, in that favored country, to kill and\neat a fellow creature. Their wool is finer and more brilliant than the\nfinest silk, and constitutes the greatest traffic of the East. Besides,\nthe land of the Gangarids produces all that can flatter the desires of\nman. Those large diamonds that Amazan had the honor of presenting you\nwith, are from a mine that belongs to him. An unicorn, on which you saw\nhim mounted, is the usual animal the Gangarids ride upon. It is the\nfinest, the proudest, most terrible, and at the same time most gentle\nanimal that ornaments the earth. A hundred Gangarids, with as many\nunicorns,[1] would be sufficient to disperse innumerable armies. Two\ncenturies ago, a king of India was mad enough to attempt to conquer\nthis nation. He appeared, followed by ten thousand elephants and a\nmillion of warriors. The unicorns pierced the elephants, just as I have\nseen upon your table beads pierced in golden brochets. The warriors fell\nunder the sabres of the Gangarids like crops of rice mowed by the people\nof the East. The king was taken prisoner, with upwards of six thousand\nmen. He was bathed in the salutary water of the Ganges, and followed the\nregimen of the country, which consists only of vegetables, of which\nnature hath there been amazingly liberal to nourish every breathing\ncreature. Men who are fed with carnivorous aliments, and drenched with\nspirituous liquors, have a sharp adust blood, which turns their brains a\nhundred different ways. Their chief rage is a fury to spill their\nbrother's blood, and, laying waste fertile plains, to reign over\nchurch-yards. Six full months were taken up in curing the king of India\nof his disorder. When the physicians judged that his pulse had become\nnatural, they certified this to the council of the Gangarids. The\ncouncil then followed the advice of the unicorns and humanely sent back\nthe king of India, his silly court, and impotent warriors, to their own\ncountry. This lesson made them wise, and from that time the Indians\nrespected the Gangarids, as ignorant men, willing to be instructed,\nrevere the philosophers they cannot equal.\n\n\"Apropos, my dear bird,\" said the princess to him, \"do the Gangarids\nprofess any religion? have they one?\"\n\n\"Yes, we meet to return thanks to God on the days of the full moon; the\nmen in a great temple made of cedar, and the women in another, to\nprevent their devotion being diverted. All the birds assemble in a\ngrove, and the quadrupeds on a fine down. We thank God for all the\nbenefits he has bestowed upon us. We have in particular some parrots\n_that preach wonderfully well_.\n\n\"Such is the country of my dear Amazan; there I reside. My friendship\nfor him is as great as the love with which he has inspired you. If you\nwill credit me, we will set out together, and you shall pay him a\nvisit.\"\n\n\"Really, my dear bird, this is a very pretty invitation of yours,\"\nreplied the princess smiling, and who flamed with desire to undertake\nthe journey, but did not dare say so.\n\n\"I serve my friend,\" said the bird; \"and, after the happiness of loving\nyou, the greatest pleasure is to assist you.\"\n\nFormosanta was quite fascinated. She fancied herself transported from\nearth. All she had seen that day, all she then saw, all she heard, and\nparticularly what she felt in her heart, so ravished her as far to\nsurpass what those fortunate Mussulmen now feel, who, disencumbered from\ntheir terrestrial ties, find themselves in the ninth heaven in the arms\nof their Houris, surrounded and penetrated with glory and celestial\nfelicity.\n\n\n[1] Pliny, the Roman naturalist, describes the unicorn as \"a very\nferocious beast, similar in the rest of its body to a horse, with the\nhead of a deer, the feet of an elephant, the tail of a boar, a deep\nbellowing voice, and a single black horn, two cubits in length, standing\nout in the middle of its forehead.\" A familiar representation of this\n\"ferocious beast\" may be seen on the English coat of arms.--E.\n\n\n\n\nIV.\n\nTHE BEAUTIFUL BIRD IS KILLED BY THE KING OF EGYPT. FORMOSANTA BEGINS A\nJOURNEY. ALDEA ELOPES WITH THE KING OF SCYTHIA.\n\n\nFormosanta passed the whole night in speaking of Amazan. She no longer\ncalled him any thing but her shepherd; and from this time it was that\nthe names of shepherd and lover were indiscriminately used throughout\nevery nation.\n\nSometimes she asked the bird whether Amazan had had any other\nmistresses. It answered, \"No,\" and she was at the summit of felicity.\nSometimes she asked how he passed his life; and she, with transport,\nlearned, that it was employed in doing good; in cultivating arts, in\npenetrating into the secrets of nature, and improving himself. She at\ntimes wanted to know if the soul of her lover was of the same nature as\nthat of her bird; how it happened that it had lived twenty thousand\nyears, when her lover was not above eighteen or nineteen. She put a\nhundred such questions, to which the bird replied with such discretion\nas excited her curiosity. At length sleep closed their eyes, and yielded\nup Formosanta to the sweet delusion of dreams sent by the gods, which\nsometimes surpass reality itself, and which all the philosophy of the\nChaldeans can scarce explain.\n\nFormosanta did not awaken till very late. The day was far advanced when\nthe king, her father, entered her chamber. The bird received his majesty\nwith respectful politeness, went before him, fluttered his wings,\nstretched his neck, and then replaced himself upon his orange tree. The\nking seated himself upon his daughter's bed, whose dreams had made her\nstill more beautiful. His large beard approached her lovely face, and\nafter having embraced her, he spoke to her in these words:\n\n\"My dear daughter, you could not yesterday find a husband agreeable to\nmy wishes; you nevertheless must marry; the prosperity of my empire\nrequires it. I have consulted the oracle, which you know never errs, and\nwhich directs all my conduct. His commands are, that you should traverse\nthe globe. You must therefore begin your journey.\"\n\n\"Ah! doubtless to the Gangarids,\" said the princess; and in uttering\nthese words, which escaped her, she was sensible of her indiscretion.\nThe king, who was utterly ignorant of geography, asked her what she\nmeant by the Gangarids? She easily diverted the question. The king told\nher she must go on a pilgrimage, that he had appointed the persons who\nwere to attend her--the dean of the counsellors of state, the high\nalmoner, a lady of honor, a physician, an apothecary, her bird, and all\nnecessary domestics.\n\nFormosanta, who had never been out of her father's palace, and who, till\nthe arrival of the three kings and Amazan, had led a very insipid life,\naccording to the _etiquette_ of rank and the parade of pleasure, was\ncharmed at setting out upon a pilgrimage. \"Who knows,\" said she,\nwhispering to her heart, \"if the gods may not inspire Amazan with the\nlike desire of going to the same chapel, and I may have the happiness of\nagain seeing the pilgrim?\" She affectionately thanked her father, saying\nshe had always entertained a secret devotion for the saint she was going\nto visit.\n\nBelus gave an excellent dinner to his guests, who were all men. They\nformed a very ill assorted company--kings, ministers, princes,\npontiffs--all jealous of each other; all weighing their words, and\nequally embarassed with their neighbors and themselves. The repast was\nvery gloomy, though they drank pretty freely. The princesses remained in\ntheir apartments, each meditating upon her respective journey. They\ndined at their little cover. Formosanta afterward walked in the gardens\nwith her dear bird, which, to amuse her, flew from tree to tree,\ndisplaying his superb tail and divine plumage.\n\nThe king of Egypt, who was heated with wine, not to say drunk, asked one\nof his pages for a bow and arrow. This prince was, in truth, the most\nunskillful archer in his whole kingdom. When he shot at a mark, the\nplace of the greatest safety was generally the spot he aimed at. But the\nbeautiful bird, flying as swiftly as the arrow, seemed to court it, and\nfell bleeding in the arms of Formosanta. The Egyptian, bursting into a\nfoolish laugh, retired to his place. The princess rent the skies with\nher moans, melted into tears, tore her hair, and beat her breast. The\ndying bird said to her, in a low voice:\n\n\"Burn me, and fail not to carry my ashes to the east of the ancient city\nof Aden or Eden, and expose them to the sun upon a little pile of cloves\nand cinnamon.\" After having uttered these words it expired. Formosanta\nwas for a long time in a swoon, and revived again only to burst into\nsighs and groans. Her father, partaking of her grief, and imprecating\nthe king of Egypt, did not doubt but this accident foretold some fatal\nevent. He immediately went to consult the oracle, which replied: _A\nmixture of everything--life and death, infidelity and constancy, loss\nand gain, calamities and good fortune_. Neither he nor his council could\ncomprehend any meaning in this reply; but, at length, he was satisfied\nwith having fulfilled the duties of devotion.\n\nHis daughter was bathed in tears, whilst he consulted the oracle. She\npaid the funeral obsequies to the bird, which it had directed, and\nresolved to carry its remains into Arabia at the risk of her life. It\nwas burned in incombustible flax, with the orange-tree on which it used\nto perch. She gathered up the ashes in a little golden vase, set with\nrubies, and the diamonds taken from the lion's mouth. Oh! that she\ncould, instead of fulfilling this melancholy duty, have burned alive the\ndetestable king of Egypt! This was her sole wish. She, in spite, put to\ndeath the two crocodiles, his two sea horses, his two zebras, his two\nrats, and had his two mummies thrown into the Euphrates. Had she\npossessed his bull Apis, she would not have spared him.\n\nThe king of Egypt, enraged at this affront, set out immediately to\nforward his three hundred thousand men. The king of India, seeing his\nally depart, set off also on the same day, with a firm intention of\njoining his three hundred thousand Indians to the Egyptian army, the\nking of Scythia decamped in the night with the princess Aldea, fully\nresolved to fight for her at the head of three hundred thousand\nScythians, and to restore to her the inheritance of Babylon, which was\nher right, as she had descended from the elder branch of the Nimrod\nfamily.\n\nAs for the beautiful Formosanta, she set out at three in the morning\nwith her caravan of pilgrims, flattering herself that she might go into\nArabia, and execute the last will of her bird; and that the justice of\nthe gods would restore her the dear Amazan, without whom life had become\ninsupportable.\n\nWhen the king of Babylon awoke, he found all the company gone.\n\n\"How mighty festivals terminate,\" said he; \"and what a surprising vacuum\nthey leave when the hurry is over.\"\n\nBut he was transported with a rage truly royal, when he found that the\nprincess Aldea had been carried off. He ordered all his ministers to be\ncalled up, and the council to be convened. Whilst they were dressing, he\nfailed not to consult the oracle; but the only answer he could obtain\nwas in these words, so celebrated since throughout the universe: _When\ngirls are not provided for in marriage by their relatives, they marry\nthemselves_.\n\nOrders were immediately issued to march three hundred thousand men\nagainst the king of Scythia. Thus was the torch of a most dreadful war\nlighted up, which was caused by the amusements of the finest festival\never given upon earth. Asia was upon the point of being over-run by four\narmies of three hundred thousand men each. It is plain that the war of\nTroy, which astonished the world some ages after, was mere child's play\nin comparison to this; but it should also be considered, that in the\nTrojans quarrel, the object was nothing more than a very immoral old\nwoman, who had contrived to be twice run away with; whereas, in this\ncase, the cause was tripartite--two girls and a bird.\n\nThe king of India went to meet his army upon the large fine road which\nthen led straight to Babylon, at Cachemir. The king of Scythia flew with\nAldea by the fine road which led to Mount Imaus. Owing to bad\ngovernment, all these fine roads have disappeared in the lapse of time.\nThe king of Egypt had marched to the west, along the coast of the little\nMediterranean sea, which the ignorant Hebrews have since called the\nGreat Sea.\n\n[Illustration: Consulting the Oracle.]\n\nAs to the charming Formosanta, she pursued the road to Bassora, planted\nwith lofty palm trees, which furnished a perpetual shade, and fruit at\nall seasons. The temple in which she was to perform her devotions, was\nin Bassora itself. The saint to whom this temple had been dedicated, was\nsomewhat in the style of him who was afterward adored at Lampsacus, and\nwas generally successful in procuring husbands for young ladies. Indeed,\nhe was the holiest saint in all Asia.\n\nFormosanta had no sort of inclination for the saint of Bassora. She only\ninvoked her dear Gangaridian shepherd, her charming Amazan. She proposed\nembarking at Bassora, and landing in Arabia Felix, to perform what her\ndeceased bird had commanded.\n\nAt the third stage, scarce had she entered into a fine inn, where her\nharbingers had made all the necessary preparations for her, when she\nlearned that the king of Egypt had arrived there also. Informed by his\nemissaries of the princess's route, he immediately altered his course,\nfollowed by a numerous escort. Having alighted, he placed sentinels at\nall the doors; then repaired to the beautiful Formosanta's apartment,\nwhen he addressed her by saying:\n\n\"Miss, you are the lady I was in quest of. You paid me very little\nattention when I was at Babylon. It is just to punish scornful\ncapricious women. You will, if you please, be kind enough to sup with me\nto-night; and I shall behave to you according as I am satisfied with\nyou.\"\n\nFormosanta saw very well that she was not the strongest. She judged that\ngood sense consisted in knowing how to conform to one's situation. She\nresolved to get rid of the king of Egypt by an innocent stratagem. She\nlooked at him through the corners of her eyes, (which in after ages has\nbeen called ogling,) and then she spoke to him, with a modesty, grace,\nand sweetness, a confusion, and a thousand other charms, which would\nhave made the wisest man a fool, and deceived the most discerning:\n\n\"I acknowledge, sir, I always appeared with a downcast look, when you\ndid the king, my father, the honor of visiting him. I had some\napprehensions for my heart. I dreaded my too great simplicity. I\ntrembled lest my father and your rivals should observe the preference I\ngave you, and which you so highly deserved. I can now declare my\nsentiments. I swear by the bull Apis, which after you is the thing I\nrespect the most in the world, that your proposals have enchanted me. I\nhave already supped with you at my father's, and I will sup with you\nagain, without his being of the party. All that I request of you is,\nthat your high almoner should drink with us. He appeared to me at\nBabylon to be an excellent guest. I have some Chiras wine remarkably\ngood. I will make you both taste it. I consider you as the greatest of\nkings, and the most amiable of men.\"\n\nThis discourse turned the king of Egypt's head. He agreed to have the\nalmoner's company.\n\n\"I have another favor to ask of you,\" said the princess, \"which is to\nallow me to speak to my apothecary. Women have always some little ails\nthat require attention, such as vapors in the head, palpitations of the\nheart, colics, and the like, which often require some assistance. In a\nword, I at present stand in need of my apothecary, and I hope you will\nnot refuse me this slight testimony of confidence.\"\n\n\"Miss,\" replied the king of Egypt, \"I know life too well to refuse you\nso just a demand. I will order the apothecary to attend you whilst\nsupper is preparing. I imagine you must be somewhat fatigued by the\njourney; you will also have occasion for a chambermaid; you may order\nher you like best to attend you. I will afterward wait your commands and\nconvenience.\"\n\nHe then retired, and the apothecary and the chambermaid, named Irla,\nentered. The princess had an entire confidence in her. She ordered her\nto bring six bottles of Chiras wine for supper, and to make all the\nsentinels, who had her officers under arrest, drink the same. Then she\nrecommended her apothecary to infuse in all the bottles certain\npharmaceutic drugs, which make those who take them sleep twenty-four\nhours, and with which he was always provided. She was implicitly obeyed.\nThe king returned with his high almoner in about half an hour's time.\nThe conversation at supper was very gay. The king and the priest emptied\nthe six bottles, and acknowledged there was not such good wine in\nEgypt. The chambermaid was attentive to make the servants in waiting\ndrink. As for the princess, she took great care not to drink any\nherself, saying that she was ordered by her physician a particular\nregimen. They were all presently asleep.\n\nThe king of Egypt's almoner had one of the finest beards that a man of\nhis rank could wear. Formosanta lopped it off very skillfully; then\nsewing it to a ribbon, she put it on her own chin. She then dressed\nherself in the priest's robes, and decked herself in all the marks of\nhis dignity, and her waiting maid clad herself like the sacristan of the\ngoddess Isis. At length, having furnished herself with his urn and\njewels, she set out from the inn amidst the sentinels, who were asleep\nlike their master. Her attendant had taken care to have two horses ready\nat the door. The princess could not take with her any of the officers of\nher train. They would have been stopped by the great guard.\n\nFormosanta and Irla passed through several ranks of soldiers, who,\ntaking the princess for the high priest, called her, \"My most Reverend\nFather in God,\" and asked his blessing. The two fugitives arrived in\ntwenty-four hours at Bassora, before the king awoke. They then threw off\ntheir disguise, which might have created some suspicion. They fitted out\nwith all possible expedition a ship, which carried them, by the Straits\nof Ormus, to the beautiful banks of Eden in Arabia Felix. This was that\nEden, whose gardens were so famous, that they have since been the\nresidence of the best of mankind. They were the model of the Elysian\nfields, the gardens of the Hesperides, and also those of the Fortunate\nIslands. In those warm climates men imagined there could be no greater\nfelicity than shades and murmuring brooks. To live eternally in heaven\nwith the Supreme Being, or to walk in the garden of paradise, was the\nsame thing to those who incessantly spoke without understanding one\nanother, and who could scarce have any distinct ideas or just\nexpressions.\n\nAs soon as the princess found herself in this land, her first care was\nto pay her dear bird the funeral obsequies he had required of her. Her\nbeautiful hands prepared a small quantity of cloves and cinnamon. What\nwas her surprise, when, having spread the ashes of the bird upon this\nfuneral pyre, she saw it blaze of itself! All was presently consumed.\nIn the place of the ashes there appeared nothing but a large egg, from\nwhence she saw her bird issue more brilliant than ever. This was one of\nthe most happy moments the princess had ever experienced in her whole\nlife. There was but another that could ever be dearer to her; it was the\nobject of her wishes, but almost beyond her hopes.\n\n\"I plainly see,\" said she, to the bird, \"you are the ph\u0153nix which I\nhave heard so much spoken of. I am almost ready to expire with joy and\nastonishment. I did not believe in your resurrection; but it is my good\nfortune to be convinced of it.\"\n\n\"Resurrection, in fact,\" said the ph\u0153nix to her, \"is one of the most\nsimple things in the world. There is nothing more in being born twice\nthan once. Every thing in this world is the effect of resurrection.\nCaterpillars are regenerated into butterflies; a kernel put into the\nearth is regenerated into a tree. All animals buried in the earth\nregenerate into vegetation, herbs, and plants, and nourish other\nanimals, of which they speedily compose part of the substance. All\nparticles which compose bodies are transformed into different beings. It\nis true, that I am the only one to whom Oromasdes[1] has granted the\nfavor of regenerating in my own form.\"\n\nFormosanta, who from the moment she first saw Amazan and the ph\u0153nix,\nhad passed all her time in a round of astonishment, said to him:\n\n\"I can easily conceive that the Supreme Being may form out of your ashes\na ph\u0153nix nearly resembling yourself; but that you should be precisely\nthe same person, that you should have the same soul, is a thing, I\nacknowledge, I cannot very clearly comprehend. What became of your soul\nwhen I carried you in my pocket after your death?\"\n\n\"Reflect one moment! Is it not as easy for the great Oromasdes to\ncontinue action upon a single atom of my being, as to begin afresh this\naction? He had before granted me sensation, memory, and thought. He\ngrants them to me again. Whether he united this favor to an atom of\nelementary fire, latent within me, or to the assemblage of my organs,\nis, in reality, of no consequence. Men, as well as ph\u0153nixes, are\nentirely ignorant how things come to pass, but the greatest favor the\nSupreme Being has bestowed upon me, is to regenerate me for you. Oh!\nthat I may pass the twenty-eight thousand years which I have still to\nlive before my next resurrection, with you and my dear Amazan.\"\n\n\"My dear ph\u0153nix, remember what you first told me at Babylon, which I\nshall never forget, and which flattered me with the hope of again seeing\nmy dear shepherd, whom I idolize; 'we must absolutely pay the Gangarids\na visit together,' and I must carry Amazan back with me to Babylon.\"\n\n\"This is precisely my design,\" said the ph\u0153nix. \"There is not a\nmoment to lose. We must go in search of Amazan by the shortest road,\nthat is, through the air. There are in Arabia Felix two griffins,[2] who\nare my particular friends, and who live only a hundred and fifty\nthousand leagues from here. I am going to write to them by the pigeon\npost, and they will be here before night. We shall have time to make you\na convenient palankeen, with drawers, in which you may place your\nprovisions. You will be quite at your ease in this vehicle, with your\nmaid. These two griffins are the most vigorous of their kind. Each of\nthem will support one of the poles of the canopy between their claws.\nBut, once for all, time is very precious.\"\n\nHe instantly went with Formosanta to order the carriage at an\nupholsterer's of his acquaintance. It was made complete in four hours.\nIn the drawers were placed small fine loaves, biscuits superior to those\nof Babylon, large lemons, pine-apples, cocoa, and pistachio nuts, Eden\nwine, which is as superior to that of Chiras, as Chiras is to that of\nSurinam.\n\nThe two griffins arrived at Eden at the appointed time. The vehicle was\nas light as it was commodious and solid, and Formosanta and Irla placed\nthemselves in it. The two griffins carried it off like a feather. The\nph\u0153nix sometimes flew after it, and sometimes perched upon its roof.\nThe two griffins winged their way toward the Ganges with the velocity of\nan arrow which rends the air. They never stopped but a moment at night\nfor the travelers to take some refreshment, and the carriers to take a\ndraught of water.\n\nThey at length reached the country of the Gangarids. The princess's\nheart palpitated with hope, love, and joy. The ph\u0153nix stopped the\nvehicle before Amazan's house; but Amazan had been absent from home\nthree hours, without any one knowing whither he had gone.\n\nThere are no words, even in the Gangaridian language, that could express\nFormosanta's extreme despair.\n\n\"Alas! this is what I dreaded,\" said the ph\u0153nix: \"the three hours\nwhich you passed at the inn, upon the road to Bassora, with that\nwretched king of Egypt, have perhaps been at the price of the happiness\nof your whole life. I very much fear we have lost Amazan, without the\npossibility of recovering him.\"\n\nHe then asked the servants if he could salute the mother of Amazan? They\nanswered, that her husband had died only two days before, and she could\nspeak to no one. The ph\u0153nix, who was not without influence in the\nhouse, introduced the princess of Babylon into a saloon, the walls of\nwhich were covered with orange-tree wood inlaid with ivory. The inferior\nshepherds and shepherdesses, who were dressed in long white garments,\nwith gold colored trimmings, served up, in a hundred plain porcelain\nbaskets, a hundred various delicacies, amongst which no disguised\ncarcasses were to be seen. They consisted of rice, sago, vermicelli,\nmacaroni, omelets, milk, eggs, cream, cheese, pastry of every kind,\nvegetables, fruits, peculiarly fragrant and grateful to the taste, of\nwhich no idea can be formed in other climates; and they were accompanied\nwith a profusion of refreshing liquors superior to the finest wine.\n\nWhilst the princess regaled herself, seated upon a bed of roses, four\npeacocks, who were luckily mute, fanned her with their brilliant wings;\ntwo hundred birds, one hundred shepherds and shepherdesses, warbled a\nconcert in two different choirs; the nightingales, thistlefinches,\nlinnets, chaffinches, sung the higher notes with the shepherdesses, and\nthe shepherds sung the tenor and bass. The princess acknowledged, that\nif there was more magnificence at Babylon, nature was infinitely more\nagreeable among the Gangarids; but whilst this consolatory and\nvoluptuous music was playing, tears flowed from her eyes, whilst she\nsaid to the damsel Irla:\n\n\"These shepherds and shepherdesses, these nightingales, these linnets,\nare making love; and for my part, I am deprived of the company of the\nGangaridian hero, the worthy object of my most tender thoughts.\"\n\nWhilst she was taking this collation, her tears and admiration kept pace\nwith each other, and the ph\u0153nix addressed himself to Amazan's mother,\nsaying:\n\n\"Madam, you cannot avoid seeing the princess of Babylon; you know--\"\n\n\"I know every thing,\" said she, \"even her adventure at the inn, upon the\nroad to Bassora. A blackbird related the whole to me this morning; and\nthis cruel blackbird is the cause of my son's going mad, and leaving his\npaternal abode.\"\n\n\"You have not been informed, then, that the princess regenerated me?\"\n\n\"No, my dear child, the blackbird told me you were dead, and this made\nme inconsolable. I was so afflicted at this loss, the death of my\nhusband, and the precipitate flight of my son, that I ordered my door to\nbe shut to every one. But since the princess of Babylon has done me the\nhonor of paying me a visit, I beg she may be immediately introduced. I\nhave matters of great importance to acquaint her with, and I choose you\nshould be present.\"\n\nShe then went to meet the princess in another saloon. She could not walk\nvery well. This lady was about three hundred years old; but she had\nstill some agreeable vestiges of beauty. It might be conjectured, that\nabout her two hundred and fortieth, or two hundred and fiftieth year,\nshe must have been a most charming woman. She received Formosanta with a\nrespectful nobleness, blended with an air of interest and sorrow, which\nmade a very lively impression upon the princess.\n\nFormosanta immediately paid her the compliments of condolence upon her\nhusband's death.\n\n\"Alas!\" said the widow, \"you have more reason to lament his death than\nyou imagine.\"\n\n\"I am, doubtless, greatly afflicted,\" said Formosanta; \"he was father\nto--.\" Here a flood of tears prevented her from going on. \"For his sake\nonly I undertook this journey, in which I have so narrowly escaped many\ndangers. For him I left my father, and the most splendid court in the\nuniverse. I was detained by a King of Egypt, whom I detest. Having\nescaped from this tyrant, I have traversed the air in search of the only\nman I love. When I arrive, he flies from me!\" Here sighs and tears\nstopped her impassioned harangue.\n\nHis mother then said to her:\n\n\"When the king of Egypt made you his prisoner,--when you supped with him\nat an inn upon the road to Bassora,--when your beautiful hands filled\nhim bumpers of Chiras wine, did you observe a blackbird that flew about\nthe room?\"\n\n\"Yes, really,\" said the princess, \"I now recollect there was such a\nbird, though at that time I did not pay it the least attention. But in\ncollecting my ideas, I now remember well, that at the instant when the\nking of Egypt rose from the table to give me a kiss, the blackbird flew\nout at the window giving a loud cry, and never appeared after.\"\n\n\"Alas! madam,\" resumed Amazan's mother, \"this is precisely the cause of\nall our misfortunes; my son had dispatched this blackbird to gain\nintelligence of your health, and all that passed at Babylon. He proposed\nspeedily to return, throw himself at your feet, and consecrate to you\nthe remainder of his life. You know not to what a pitch he adores you.\nAll the Gangarids are both loving and faithful; but my son is the most\npassionate and constant of them all. The blackbird found you at an inn,\ndrinking very cheerfully with the king of Egypt and a vile priest; he\nafterward saw you give this monarch who had killed the ph\u0153nix,--the\nman my son holds in utter detestation,--a fond embrace. The blackbird,\nat the sight of this, was seized with a just indignation. He flew away\nimprecating your fatal error. He returned this day, and has related\nevery thing. But, just heaven, at what a juncture! At the very time that\nmy son was deploring with me the loss of his father and that of the wise\nph\u0153nix, the very instant I had informed him that he was your cousin\ngerman--\"\n\n\"Oh heavens! my cousin, madam, is it possible? How can this be? And am I\nso happy as to be thus allied to him, and yet so miserable as to have\noffended him?\"\n\n\"My son is, I tell you,\" said the Gangaridian lady, \"your cousin, and I\nshall presently convince you of it; but in becoming my relation, you rob\nme of my son. He cannot survive the grief that the embrace you gave to\nthe king of Egypt has occasioned him.\"\n\n\"Ah! my dear aunt,\" cried the beautiful Formosanta, \"I swear by him and\nthe all-powerful Oromasdes, that this embrace, so far from being\ncriminal, was the strongest proof of love your son could receive from\nme. I disobeyed my father for his sake. For him I went from the\nEuphrates to the Ganges. Having fallen into the hands of the worthless\nPharaoh of Egypt, I could not escape his clutches but by artifice. I\ncall the ashes and soul of the ph\u0153nix, which were then in my pocket,\nto witness. He can do me justice. But how can your son, born upon the\nbanks of the Ganges, be my cousin? I, whose family have reigned upon the\nbanks of the Euphrates for so many centuries?\"\n\n\"You know,\" said the venerable Gangaridian lady to her, \"that your grand\nuncle, Aldea, was king of Babylon, and that he was dethroned by Belus's\nfather?\"\n\n\"Yes, madam.\"\n\n\"You know that this Aldea had in marriage a daughter named Aldea,\nbrought up in your court? It was this prince, who, being persecuted by\nyour father, took refuge under another name in our happy country. He\nmarried me, and is the father of the young prince Aldea Amazan, the most\nbeautiful, the most courageous, the strongest, and most virtuous of\nmortals; and at this hour the most unhappy. He went to the Babylonian\nfestival upon the credit of your beauty; since that time he idolizes\nyou, and now grieves because he believes that you have proved unfaithful\nto him. Perhaps I shall never again set eyes upon my dear son.\"\n\nShe then displayed to the princess all the titles of the house of Aldea.\nFormosanta scarce deigned to look at them.\n\n\"Ah! madam, do we examine what is the object of our desire? My heart\nsufficiently believes you. But where is Aldea Amazan? Where is my\nkinsman, my lover, my king? Where is my life? What road has he taken? I\nwill seek for him in every sphere the Eternal Being hath framed, and of\nwhich he is the greatest ornament. I will go into the star Canope, into\nSheath, into Aldebaran; I will go and tell him of my love and convince\nhim of my innocence.\"\n\nThe ph\u0153nix justified the princess with regard to the crime that was\nimputed to her by the blackbird, of fondly embracing the king of Egypt;\nbut it was necessary to undeceive Amazan and recall him. Birds were\ndispatched on every side. Unicorns sent forward in every direction. News\nat length arrived that Amazan had taken the road toward China.\n\n\"Well, then,\" said the princess, \"let us set out for China. I will seek\nhim in defiance of both difficulty and danger. The journey is not long,\nand I hope I shall bring you back your son in a fortnight at farthest.\"\n\nAt these words tears of affection streamed from his mother's eyes and\nalso from those of the princess. They most tenderly embraced, in the\ngreat sensibility of their hearts.\n\nThe ph\u0153nix immediately ordered a coach with six unicorns. Amazan's\nmother furnished two thousand horsemen, and made the princess, her\nniece, a present of some thousands of the finest diamonds of her\ncountry. The ph\u0153nix, afflicted at the evil occasioned by the\nblackbird's indiscretion, ordered all the blackbirds to quit the\ncountry; and from that time none have been met with upon the banks of\nthe Ganges.\n\n\n[1] The god Ormuzd, (called Oromasdes by the Greeks), was regarded by\nthe Magi as the source of all good. His followers were in reality\nworshipers of nature, and used neither temples, altars, nor statues, but\nperformed their simple rites on mountain tops. They adored Oromasdes as\nthe source of all light and purity, and regarded the sun and fire as\nsymbols of the divinity. They were, in the language of Wadsworth:\n\n                   \"--zealous to reject\n      Altar and Image, and the inclusive walls\n      And roofs of temples built by human hands,--\n      The loftiest heights ascending,\n      Presented sacrifice to Moon and Stars\n      And to the Winds and mother Elements,\n      And the whole circle of the Heavens, for him\n      A sensitive existence and a God.\"\n\nByron, in Childe Harold, contrasts the \"unwalled temples,\" of the\nworshipers of Nature, with the \"idol-dwellings,\" where images are\nadored:\n\n     \"Not vainly did the early Persian make\n      His altar the high places and the peak\n      Of earth-o'er-gazing mountains, and thus take\n      A fit and unwalled temple, there to seek\n      The Spirit, in whose honor shrines are weak,\n      Upreared of human hands. Come and compare\n      Columns and idol-dwellings, Goth or Greek,\n      With Nature's realms of worship, earth and air,\n      Nor fix on fond abodes to circumscribe thy prayer.\"\n\nIn Moore's Lalla Rookh will be found an exquisite sketch of the Magi, or\nancient Fire Worshipers,--\n\n     \"Those slaves of Fire, that morn and even\n      Hal their creator's dwelling-place\n      Among the living lights of heaven.\"--E.\n\n\n[2] On ancient coins and armorial bearings, the Griffin is represented\nas having the head and wings of an eagle, joined to the body and paws of\na lion, thus representing strength and swiftness combined. It was\nsupposed to watch over mines of gold, and also whatever was secretly\nhidden. It built its nest like a bird, using gold as the material, and\nhence it was necessary to vigilantly guard its treasures from the\nrapacity of mankind--who, says Milton, in _Paradise Lost_, \"by stealth\npurloined its guarded gold.\" The poets intimate that the chariot of\nApollo, the god of the sun, was drawn by griffins.--E.\n\n\n\n\nV.\n\nFORMOSANTA VISITS CHINA AND SCYTHIA IN SEARCH OF AMAZAN.\n\n\nThe unicorns, in less than eight days, carried Formosanta, Irla, and the\nph\u0153nix, to Cambalu, the capital of China. This city was larger than\nthat of Babylon, and in appearance quite different. These fresh objects,\nthese strange manners, would have amused Formosanta could any thing but\nAmazan have engaged her attention.\n\nAs soon as the emperor of China learned that the princess of Babylon was\nat the city gates, he dispatched four thousand Mandarins in ceremonial\nrobes to receive her. They all prostrated themselves before her, and\npresented her with an address written in golden letters upon a sheet of\npurple silk. Formosanta told them, that if she were possessed of four\nthousand tongues, she would not omit replying immediately to every\nMandarin; but that having only one, she hoped they would be satisfied\nwith her general thanks. They conducted her, in a respectful manner, to\nthe emperor.\n\nHe was the wisest, most just and benevolent monarch upon earth. It was\nhe who first tilled a small field with his own imperial hands, to make\nagriculture respectable to his people. Laws in all other countries were\nshamefully confined to the punishment of crimes: he first allotted\npremiums to virtue. This emperor had just banished from his dominions a\ngang of foreign Bonzes, who had come from the extremities of the West,\nwith the frantic hope of compelling all China _to think like\nthemselves_; and who, under pretence of teaching truths, had already\nacquired honors and riches. In expelling them, he delivered himself in\nthese words, which are recorded in the annals of the empire:\n\n_\"You may here do us much harm as you have elsewhere. You have come to\npreach dogmas of intolerance, to the most tolerant nation upon earth. I\nsend you back, that I may never be compelled to punish you. You will be\nhonorably conducted to my frontiers. You will be furnished with every\nthing necessary to return to the confines of the hemisphere from whence\nyou came. Depart in peace, if you can be at peace, and never return.\"_\n\nThe princess of Babylon heard with pleasure of this speech and\ndetermination. She was the more certain of being well received at court,\nas she was very far from entertaining any dogmas of intolerance. The\nemperor of China, in dining with her _t\u00eate-\u00e0-t\u00eate_, had the politeness\nto banish all disagreeable _etiquette_. She presented the ph\u0153nix to\nhim, who was gently caressed by the emperor, and who perched upon his\nchair. Formosanta, toward the end of the repast, ingenuously acquainted\nhim with the cause of her journey, and entreated him to search for the\nbeautiful Amazan in the city of Cambalu; and in the meanwhile she\nacquainted the emperor with her adventures, without concealing the fatal\npassion with which her heart burned for this youthful hero.\n\n\"He did me the honor of coming to my court,\" said the emperor of China.\n\"I was enchanted with this amiable Amazan. It is true that he is deeply\nafflicted; but his graces are thereby the more affecting. Not one of my\nfavorites has more wit. There is not a gown Mandarin who has more\nknowledge,--not a military one who has a more martial or heroic air. His\nextreme youth adds an additional value to all his talents. If I were so\nunfortunate, so abandoned by the Tien and Changti, as to desire to be a\nconqueror, I would wish Amazan to put himself at the head of my armies,\nand I should be sure of conquering the whole universe. It is a great\npity that his melancholy sometimes disconcerts him.\"\n\n\"Ah! sir,\" said Formosanta, with much agitation and grief, blended with\nan air of reproach, \"why did you not request me to dine with him? This\nis a cruel stroke you have given me. Send for him immediately, I entreat\nyou.\"\n\n\"He set out this very morning,\" replied the emperor, \"without\nacquainting me with his destination.\"\n\nFormosanta, turning toward the ph\u0153nix, said to him:\n\n\"Did you ever know so unfortunate a damsel as myself?\" Then resuming the\nconversation, she said:\n\n\"Sir, how came he to quit in so abrupt a manner, so polite a court, in\nwhich, methinks, one might pass one's life?\"\n\n\"The case was as follows,\" said he. \"One of the most amiable of the\nprincesses of the blood, falling desperately in love with him, desired\nto meet him at noon. He set out at day-break, leaving this billet for\nmy kinswoman, whom it hath cost a deluge of tears:\n\n     \"Beautiful princess of the mongolian race. You are deserving of a\n     heart that was never offered up at any other altar. I have sworn to\n     the immortal gods never to love any other than Formosanta, princess\n     of Babylon, and to teach her how to conquer one's desires in\n     traveling. She has had the misfortune to yield to a worthless king\n     of Egypt. I am the most unfortunate of men; having lost my father,\n     the ph\u0153nix, and the hope of being loved by Formosanta. I left my\n     mother in affliction, forsook my home and country, being unable to\n     live a moment in the place where I learned that Formosanta loved\n     another than me. I swore to traverse the earth, and be faithful.\n     You would despise me, and the gods punish me, if I violated my\n     oath. Choose another lover, madam, and be as faithful as I am.\"\n\n\"Ah! give me that miraculous letter,\" said the beautiful Formosanta; \"it\nwill afford me some consolation. I am happy in the midst of my\nmisfortunes. Amazan loves me! Amazan, for me, renounces the society of\nthe princesses of China. There is no one upon earth but himself endowed\nwith so much fortitude. He sets me a most brilliant example. The\nph\u0153nix knows I did not stand in need of it. How cruel it is to be\ndeprived of one's lover for the most innocent embrace given through pure\nfidelity. But, tell me, whither has he gone? What road has he taken?\nDeign to inform me, and I will immediately set out.\"\n\nThe emperor of China told her, that, according to the reports he had\nreceived, her lover had taken the road toward Scythia. The unicorns were\nimmediately harnessed, and the princess, after the most tender\ncompliments, took leave of the emperor, and resumed her journey with the\nph\u0153nix, her chambermaid Irla, and all her train.\n\nAs soon as she arrived in Scythia, she was more convinced than ever how\nmuch men and governments differed, and would continue to differ, until\nnoble and enlightened minds should by degrees remove that cloud of\ndarkness which has covered the earth for so many ages; and until there\nshould be found in barbarous climes, heroic souls, who would have\nstrength and perseverance enough to transform brutes into men. There are\nno cities in Scythia, consequently no agreeable arts. Nothing was to be\nseen but extensive fields, and whole tribes whose sole habitations were\ntents and chars. Such an appearance struck her with terror. Formosanta\nenquired in what tent or char the king was lodged? She was informed that\nhe had set out eight days before with three hundred thousand cavalry to\nattack the king of Babylon, whose niece, the beautiful princess Aldea,\nhe had carried off.\n\n\"What! did he run away with my cousin?\" cried Formosanta. \"I could not\nhave imagined such an incident. What! has my cousin, who was too happy\nin paying her court to me, become a queen, and I am not yet married?\"\nShe was immediately conducted, by her desire, to the queen's tent.\n\nTheir unexpected meeting in such distant climes--the uncommon\noccurrences they mutually had to impart to each other, gave such charms\nto this interview, as made them forget they never loved one another.\nThey saw each other with transport; and a soft illusion supplied the\nplace of real tenderness. They embraced with tears, and there was a\ncordiality and frankness on each side that could not have taken place in\na palace.\n\nAldea remembered the ph\u0153nix and the waiting maid Irla. She presented\nher cousin with zibelin skins, who in return gave her diamonds. The war\nbetween the two kings was spoken of. They deplored the fate of soldiers\nwho were forced into battle, the victims of the caprice of princes, when\ntwo honest men might, perhaps, settle the dispute in less than an hour,\nwithout a single throat being cut. But the principal topic was the\nhandsome stranger, who had conquered lions, given the largest diamonds\nin the universe, written madrigals, and had now become the most\nmiserable of men from believing the statements of a blackbird.\n\n\"He is my dear brother,\" said Aldea. \"He is my lover,\" cried Formosanta.\n\"You have, doubtless, seen him. Is he still here? for, cousin, as he\nknows he is your brother, he cannot have left you so abruptly as he did\nthe king of China.\n\n\"Have I seen him? good heavens! yes. He passed four whole days with me.\nAh! cousin, how much my brother is to blame. A false report has\nabsolutely turned his brain. He roams about the world, without knowing\nwhither he is destined. Imagine to yourself his distraction of mind,\nwhich is so great, that he has refused to meet the handsomest lady in\nall Scythia. He set out yesterday, after writing her a letter which has\nthrown her into despair. As for him, he has gone to visit the\nCimmerians.\"\n\n\"God be thanked!\" cried Formosanta, \"another refusal in my favor. My\ngood fortune is beyond my hopes, as my misfortunes surpass my greatest\napprehensions. Procure me this charming letter, that I may set out and\nfollow him, loaded with his sacrifices. Farewell, cousin. Amazan is\namong the Cimmerians, and I fly to meet him.\"\n\nAldea judged that the princess, her cousin, was still more frantic than\nher brother Amazan. Hut as she had herself been sensible of the effects\nof this epidemic contagion, having given up the delights and\nmagnificence of Babylon for a king of Scythia; and as the women always\nexcuse those follies that are the effects of love, she felt for\nFormosanta's affliction, wished her a happy journey, and promised to be\nher advocate with her brother, if ever she was so fortunate as to see\nhim again.\n\n\n\n\nVI.\n\nTHE PRINCESS CONTINUES HER JOURNEY.\n\n\nFrom Scythia the princess of Babylon, with her ph\u0153nix, soon arrived\nat the empire of the Cimmerians, now called Russia; a country indeed\nmuch less populous than Scythia, but of far greater extent.\n\nAfter a few days' journey, she entered a very large city, which has of\nlate been greatly improved by the reigning sovereign. The empress,\nhowever, was not there at that time, but was making a journey through\nher dominions, on the frontiers of Europe and Asia, in order to judge of\ntheir state and condition with her own eyes,--to enquire into their\ngrievances, and to provide the proper remedies for them.\n\nThe principal magistrate of that ancient capital, as soon as he was\ninformed of the arrival of the Babylonian lady and the ph\u0153nix, lost\nno time in paying her all the honors of his country; being certain that\nhis mistress, the most polite and generous empress in the world, would\nbe extremely well pleased to find that he had received so illustrious a\nlady with all that respect which she herself, if on the spot, would have\nshown her.\n\nThe princess was lodged in the palace, and entertained with great\nsplendor and elegance. The Cimmerian lord, who was an excellent natural\nphilosopher, diverted himself in conversing with the ph\u0153nix, at such\ntimes as the princess chose to retire to her own apartment. The\nph\u0153nix told him, that he had formerly traveled among the Cimmerians,\nbut that he should not have known the country again.\n\n\"How comes it,\" said he, \"that such prodigious changes have been brought\nabout in so short a time? Formerly, when I was here, about three hundred\nyears ago, I saw nothing but savage nature in all her horrors. At\npresent, I perceive industry, arts, splendor, and politeness.\"\n\n\"This mighty revolution,\" replied the Cimmerian, \"was begun by one man,\nand is now carried to perfection by one woman;--a woman who is a greater\nlegislator than the Isis of the Egyptians, or the Ceres of the Greeks.\nMost law-givers have been, unhappily, of a narrow genius and an\narbitrary disposition, which conned their views to the countries they\ngoverned. Each of them looked upon his own race as the only people\nexisting upon the earth, or as if they ought to be at enmity with all\nthe rest. They formed institutions, introduced customs, and established\nreligions exclusively for themselves. Thus the Egyptians, so famous for\nthose heaps of stones called pyramids, have dishonored themselves with\ntheir barbarous superstitions. They despise all other nations as\nprofane; refuse all manner of intercourse with them; and, excepting\nthose conversant in the court, who now and then rise above the\nprejudices of the vulgar, there is not an Egyptian who will eat off a\nplate that has ever been used by a stranger. Their priests are equally\ncruel and absurd. It were better to have no laws at all, and to follow\nthose notions of right and wrong engraven on our hearts by nature, than\nto subject society to institutions so inhospitable.\n\n\"Our empress has adopted quite a different system. She considers her\nvast dominions, under which all the meridians on the globe are united,\nas under an obligation of correspondence with all the nations dwelling\nunder those meridians. The first and most fundamental of her laws, is an\nuniversal toleration of all religions, and an unbounded compassion for\nevery error. Her penetrating genius perceives, that though the modes of\nreligious worship differ, yet morality is every where the same. By this\nprinciple, she has united her people to all the nations on earth, and\nthe Cimmerians will soon consider the Scandinavians and the Chinese as\ntheir brethren. Not satisfied with this, she has resolved to establish\nthis invaluable toleration, the strongest link of society, among her\nneighbors. By these means, she obtained the title of the parent of her\ncountry; and, if she persevere, will acquire that of the benefactress of\nmankind.\n\n\"Before her time, the men, who were unhappily possessed of power, sent\nout legions of murderers to ravage unknown countries, and to water with\nthe blood of the children the inheritance of their fathers. Those\nassassins were called heroes, and their robberies accounted glorious\nachievements. But our sovereign courts another sort of glory. She has\nsent forth her armies to be the messengers of peace; not only to prevent\nmen from being the destroyers, but to oblige them to be the benefactors\nof one another. Her standards are the ensigns of public tranquillity.\"\n\nThe ph\u0153nix was quite charmed with what he heard from this nobleman.\nHe told him, that though he had lived twenty-seven thousand nine hundred\nyears and seven months in this world, he had never seen any thing like\nit. He then enquired after his friend Amazan. The Cimmerian gave the\nsame account of him that the princess had already heard from the Chinese\nand the Scythians. It was Amazan's constant practice to run away from\nall the courts he visited, the instant any lady noticed him in\nparticular and seemed anxious to make his acquaintance. The ph\u0153nix\nsoon acquainted Formosanta with this fresh instance of Amazan's\nfidelity--a fidelity so much the more surprising, since he could not\nimagine his princess would ever hear of it.\n\nAmazan had set out for Scandinavia, where he was entertained with sights\nstill more surprising. In this place, he beheld monarchy and liberty\nsubsisting together in a manner thought incompatible in other states;\nthe laborers of the ground shared in the legislature with the grandees\nof the realm. In another place he saw what was still more extraordinary;\na prince equally remarkable for his extreme youth and uprightness, who\npossessed a sovereign authority over his country, acquired by a solemn\ncontract with his people.\n\nAmazan beheld a philosopher on the throne of Sarmatia, who might be\ncalled a king of anarchy; for he was the chief of a hundred thousand\npetty kings, one of whom with his single voice could render ineffectual\nthe resolution of all the rest. Eolus had not more difficulty to keep\nthe warring winds within their proper bounds, than this monarch to\nreconcile the tumultuous discordant spirits of his subjects. He was the\nmaster of a ship surrounded with eternal storms. But the vessel did not\nfounder, for he was an excellent pilot.\n\nIn traversing those various countries, so different from his own, Amazan\npersevered in rejecting all the advances made to him by the ladies,\nthough incessantly distracted with the embrace given by Formosanta to\nthe king of Egypt, being resolved to set Formosanta an amazing example\nof an unshaken and unparalleled fidelity.\n\nThe princess of Babylon was constantly close at his heels, and scarcely\never missed of him but by a day or two; without the one being tired of\nroaming, or the other losing a moment in pursuing him.\n\nThus he traversed the immense continent of Germany, where he beheld with\nwonder the progress which reason and philosophy had made in the north.\nEven their princes were enlightened, and had become the patrons of\nfreedom of thought. Their education had not been trusted to men who had\nan interest in deceiving them, or who were themselves deceived. They\nwere brought up in the knowledge of universal morality, and in the\ncontempt of superstition.\n\nThey had banished from all their estates a senseless custom which had\nenervated and depopulated the southern countries. This was to bury alive\nin immense dungeons, infinite numbers of both sexes who were eternally\nseparated from one another, and sworn to have no communication together.\nThis madness had contributed more than the most cruel wars to lay waste\nand depopulate the earth.\n\nIn opposing these barbarous institutions, so inimical to the laws of\nnature and the best interests of society, the princes of the north had\nbecome the benefactors of their race. They had likewise exploded other\nerrors equally absurd and pernicious. In short, men had at last\nventured to make use of their reason in those immense regions; whereas\nit was still believed almost every where else, that they could not be\ngoverned but in proportion to their ignorance.\n\n\n\n\nVII.\n\nAMAZAN VISITS ALBION.\n\n\nFrom Germany, Amazan arrived at Batavia; where his perpetual chagrin was\nin a good measure alleviated, by perceiving among the inhabitants a\nfaint resemblance to his happy countrymen, the Gangarids. There he saw\nliberty, security, and equality,--with toleration in religion; but the\nladies were so indifferent, that none made him any advances; an\nexperience he had not met with before. It is true, however, that had he\nbeen inclined to address them, they would not have been offended;\nthough, at the same time, not one would have been the least in love; but\nhe was far from any thoughts of making conquests.\n\nFormosanta had nearly caught him in this insipid nation. He had set out\nbut a moment before her arrival.\n\nAmazan had heard so much among the Batavians in praise of a certain\nisland called Albion, that he was led by curiosity to embark with his\nunicorns on board a ship, which, with a favorable easterly wind, carried\nhim in a few hours to that celebrated country, more famous than Tyre, or\nAtlantis.\n\nThe beautiful Formosanta, who had followed him, as it were on the scent,\nto the banks of the Volga, the Vistula, the Elbe, and the Weser, and had\nnever been above a day or two behind him, arrived soon after at the\nmouth of the Rhine, where it disembogues its waters into the German\nOcean.\n\nHere she learned that her beloved Amazan had just set sail for Albion.\nShe thought she saw the vessel on board of which he was, and could not\nhelp crying out for joy; at which the Batavian ladies were greatly\nsurprised, not imagining that a young man could possibly occasion so\nviolent a transport. They took, indeed, but little notice of the\nph\u0153nix, as they reckoned his feathers would not fetch near so good a\nprice as those of their own ducks, and other water fowl. The princess\nof Babylon hired two vessels to carry herself and her retinue to that\nhappy island, which was soon to possess the only object of her desires,\nthe soul of her life, and the god of her idolatry.\n\nAn unpropitious wind from the west suddenly arose, just as the faithful\nand unhappy Amazan landed on Albion's sea-girt shore, and detained the\nships of the Babylonian princess just as they were on the point of\nsailing. Seized with a deep melancholy, she went to her room, determined\nto remain there till the wind should change; but it blew for the space\nof eight days, with an unremitting violence. The princess, during this\ntedious period, employed her maid of honor, Irla, in reading romances;\nwhich were not indeed written by the Batavians; but as they are the\nfactors of the universe, they traffic in the wit as well as commodities\nof other nations. The princess purchased of Mark Michael Rey, the\nbookseller, all the novels which had been written by the Ausonians and\nthe Welch, the sale of which had been wisely prohibited among those\nnations to enrich their neighbors, the Batavians. She expected to find\nin those histories some adventure similar to her own, which might\nalleviate her grief. The maid of honor read, the ph\u0153nix made\ncomments, and the princess, finding nothing in the _Fortunate Country\nMaid_, in _Tansai_, or in the _Sopha_, that had the least resemblance to\nher own affairs, interrupted the reader every moment, by asking how the\nwind stood.\n\n\n\n\nVIII.\n\nAMAZAN LEAVES ALBION TO VISIT THE LAND OF SATURN.\n\n\nIn the mean time Amazan was on the road to the capital of Albion, in his\ncoach and six unicorns, all his thoughts employed on his dear princess.\nAt a small distance he perceived a carriage overturned in a ditch. The\nservants had gone in different directions in quest of assistance, but\nthe owner kept his seat, smoking his pipe with great tranquillity,\nwithout manifesting the smallest impatience. His name was my lord\nWhat-then, in the language from which I translate these memoirs.\n\nAmazan made all the haste possible to help him, and without assistance\nset the carriage to rights, so much was his strength superior to that of\nother men. My lord What-then took no other notice of him, than saying,\n\"a stout fellow, by Jove!\" In the meantime the neighboring people,\nhaving arrived, flew into a great passion at being called out to no\npurpose, and fell upon the stranger. They abused him, called him an\noutlandish dog, and challenged him to strip and box.\n\nAmazan seized a brace of them in each hand, and threw them twenty paces\nfrom him; the rest seeing this, pulled off their hats, and bowing with\ngreat respect, asked his honor for something to drink. His honor gave\nthem more money than they had ever seen in their lives before. My lord\nWhat-then now expressed great esteem for him, and asked him to dinner at\nhis country house, about three miles off. His invitation being accepted,\nhe went into Amazan's coach, his own being out of order from the\naccident.\n\nAfter a quarter of an hour's silence, my lord What-then, looking upon\nAmazan for a moment, said. \"How d'ye do?\" which, by the way, is a phrase\nwithout any meaning, adding, \"You have got six fine unicorns there.\"\nAfter which he continued smoking as usual.\n\nThe traveler told him his unicorns were at his service, and that he had\nbrought them from the country of the Gangarids. From thence he took\noccasion to inform him of his affair with the princess of Babylon, and\nthe unlucky kiss she had given the king of Egypt; to which the other\nmade no reply, being very indifferent whether there were any such people\nin the world, as a king of Egypt, or a princess of Babylon.\n\nHe remained dumb for another quarter of an hour; after which he asked\nhis companion a second time how he did, and whether they had any good\nroast beef among the Gangarids.\n\nAmazan answered with his wonted politeness, \"that they did not eat their\nbrethren on the banks of the Ganges.\" He then explained to him that\nsystem which many ages afterward was surnamed the Pythagorean\nphilosophy. But my lord fell asleep in the meantime, and made but one\nnap of it till he came to his own house.\n\nHe was married to a young and charming woman, on whom nature had\nbestowed a soul as lively and sensible as that of her husband was dull\nand stupid. A few gentlemen of Albion had that day come to dine with\nher; among whom there were characters of all sorts; for that country\nhaving been almost always under the government of foreigners, the\nfamilies that had come over with these princes had imported their\ndifferent manners. There were in this company some persons of an amiable\ndisposition, others of superior genius, and a few of profound learning.\n\nThe mistress of the house had none of that awkward stiffness, that false\nmodesty, with which the young ladies of Albion were then reproached. She\ndid not conceal by a scornful look and an affected taciturnity, her\ndeficiency of ideas: and the embarrassing humility of having nothing to\nsay. Never was a woman more engaging. She received Amazan with a grace\nand politeness that were quite natural to her. The extreme beauty of\nthis young stranger, and the involuntary comparison she could not help\nmaking between him and her prosaic husband, did not increase her\nhappiness or content.\n\nDinner being served, she placed Amazan at her side, and helped him to a\nvariety of puddings, he having informed her that the Gangarids never\ndined upon any thing which had received from the gods the celestial gift\nof life. The events of his early life, the manners of the Gangarids, the\nprogress of arts, religion, and government, were the subjects of a\nconversation equally agreeable and instructive all the time of the\nentertainment, which lasted till night: during which my lord What-then\ndid nothing but push the bottle about, and call for the toast.\n\nAfter dinner, while my lady was pouring out the tea, still feeding her\neyes on the young stranger, he entered into a long conversation with a\nmember of parliament; for every one knows that there was, even then, a\nparliament called Wittenagemot, or the assembly of wise men. Amazan\nenquired into the constitution, laws, manners, customs, forces, and\narts, which made this country so respectable; and the member answered\nhim in the following manner.\n\n\"For a long time we went stark naked, though our climate is none of the\nhottest. We were likewise for a long time enslaved by a people who came\nfrom the ancient country of Saturn, watered by the Tiber. But the\nmischief we have done one another has greatly exceeded all that we\never suffered from our first conquerors. One of our princes carried his\nsuperstition to such a pitch, as to declare himself the subject of a\npriest, who dwells also on the banks of the Tiber, and is called the Old\nMan of the Seven Mountains. It has been the fate of the seven mountains\nto domineer over the greatest part of Europe, then inhabited by brutes\nin human shape.\n\n[Illustration: Religious wars in Albion.]\n\n\"To those times of infamy and debasement, succeeded the ages of\nbarbarity and confusion. Our country, more tempestuous than the\nsurrounding ocean, has been ravaged and drenched in blood by our civil\ndiscords. Many of our crowned heads have perished by a violent death.\nAbove a hundred princes of the royal blood have ended their days on the\nscaffold, whilst the hearts of their adherents have been torn from their\nbreasts, and thrown in their faces. In short, it is the province of the\nhangman to write the history of our island, seeing that this personage\nhas finally determined all our affairs of moment.\n\n\"But to crown these horrors, it is not very long since some fellows\nwearing black mantles, and others who cast white shirts over their\njackets, having become aggressive and intolerent, succeeded in\ncommunicating their madness to the whole nation. Our country was then\ndivided into two parties, the murderers and the murdered, the\nexecutioners and the sufferers, plunderers and slaves; and all in the\nname of God, and whilst they were seeking the Lord.\n\n\"Who would have imagined, that from this horrible abyss, this chaos of\ndissension, cruelty, ignorance, and fanaticism, a government should at\nlast spring up, the most perfect, it may be said, now in the world; yet\nsuch has been the event. A prince, honored and wealthy, all-powerful to\ndo good, but without power to do evil, is at the head of a free,\nwarlike, commercial, and enlightened nation. The nobles on one hand, and\nthe representatives of the people on the other, share the legislature\nwith the monarch.\n\n\"We have seen, by a singular fatality of events, disorder, civil wars,\nanarchy and wretchedness, lay waste the country, when our kings aimed at\narbitrary power: whereas tranquillity, riches, and universal happiness,\nhave only reigned among us, when the prince has remained satisfied with\na limited authority. All order had been subverted whilst we were\ndisputing about mysteries, but was re-established the moment we grew\nwise enough to despise them. Our victorious fleets carry our flag on\nevery ocean; our laws place our lives and fortunes in security; no judge\ncan explain them in an arbitrary manner, and no decision is ever given\nwithout the reasons assigned for it. We should punish a judge as an\nassassin, who should condemn a citizen to death without declaring the\nevidence which accused him, and the law upon which he was convicted.\n\n\"It is true, there are always two parties among us, who are continually\nwriting and intriguing against each other, but they constantly re-unite,\nwhenever it is needful to arm in defence of liberty and our country.\nThese two parties watch over one another, and mutually prevent the\nviolation of the sacred _deposit_ of the laws. They hate one another,\nbut they love the state. They are like those jealous lovers, who pay\ncourt to the same mistress, with a spirit of emulation.\n\n\"From the same fund of genius by which we discovered and supported the\nnatural rights of mankind, we have carried the sciences to the highest\npitch to which they can attain among men. Your Egyptians, who pass for\nsuch great mechanics--your Indians, who are believed to be such great\nphilosophers--your Babylonians, who boast of having observed the stars\nfor the course of four hundred and thirty thousand years--the Greeks,\nwho have written so much, and said so little, know in reality nothing in\ncomparison to our inferior scholars, who have studied the discoveries of\nOur great masters. We have ravished more secrets from nature in the\nspace of an hundred years, that the human species had been able to\ndiscover in as many ages.\n\n\"This is a true account of our present state. I have concealed from you\nneither the good nor the bad; neither our shame nor our glory; and I\nhave exaggerated nothing.\"\n\nAt this discourse Amazan felt a strong desire to be instructed in those\nsublime sciences his friend had spoken of; and if his passion for the\nprincess of Babylon, his filial duty to his mother whom he had quitted,\nand his love for his native country, had not made strong remonstrances\nto his distempered heart, he would willingly have spent the remainder of\nhis life in Albion. But that unfortunate kiss his princess had given\nthe king of Egypt, did not leave his mind at sufficient ease to study\nthe abstruse sciences.\n\n\"I confess,\" said he, \"having made a solemn vow to roam about the world,\nand to escape from myself. I have a curiosity to see that ancient land\nof Saturn--that people of the Tiber and of the Seven Mountains, who have\nbeen heretofore your masters. They must undoubtedly be the first people\non earth.\"\n\n\"I advise you by all means,\" answered the member, \"to take that journey,\nif you have the smallest taste for music or painting. Even we ourselves\nfrequently carry our spleen and melancholy to the Seven Mountains. But\nyou will be greatly surprised when you see the descendants of our\nconquerors.\"\n\nThis was a long conversation, and Amazan had spoken in so agreeable a\nmanner; his voice was so charming; his whole behavior so noble and\nengaging, that the mistress of the house could not resist the pleasure\nof having a little private chat with him in her turn. She accordingly\nsent him a little billet-doux intimating her wishes in the most\nagreeable language. Amazan had once more the courage to resist the\nfascination of female society, and, according to custom, wrote the lady\nan answer full of respect,--representing to her the sacredness of his\noath, and the strict obligation he was under to teach the princess of\nBabylon to conquer her passions by his example; after which he harnessed\nhis unicorns and departed for Batavia, leaving all the company in deep\nadmiration of him, and the lady in profound astonishment. In her\nconfusion she dropped Amazan's letter. My lord What-then read it next\nmorning:\n\n\"D--n it,\" said he, shrugging up his shoulders, \"what stuff and nonsense\nhave we got here?\" and then rode out a fox hunting with some of his\ndrunken neighbors.\n\nAmazan was already sailing upon the sea, possessed of a geographical\nchart, with which he had been presented by the learned Albion he had\nconversed with at lord What-then's. He was extremely astonished to find\nthe greatest part of the earth upon a single sheet of paper.\n\nHis eyes and imagination wandered over this little space; he observed\nthe Rhine, the Danube, the Alps of Tyrol, there specified under their\ndifferent names, and all the countries through which he was to pass\nbefore he arrived at the city of the Seven Mountains. But he more\nparticularly fixed his eyes upon the country of the Gangarids, upon\nBabylon, where he had seen his dear princess, and upon the country of\nBassora, where she had given a fatal kiss to the king of Egypt. He\nsighed, and tears streamed from his eyes at the unhappy remembrance. He\nagreed with the Albion who had presented him with the universe in\nepitome, when he averred that the inhabitants of the banks of the Thames\nwere a thousand times better instructed than those upon the banks of the\nNile, the Euphrates, and the Ganges.\n\nAs he returned into Batavia, Formosanta proceeded toward Albion with her\ntwo ships at full sail. Amazan's ship and the princess's crossed one\nanother and almost touched; the two lovers were close to each other,\nwithout being conscious of the fact. Ah! had they but known it! But this\ngreat consolation tyrannic destiny would not allow.\n\n\n\n\nIX.\n\nAMAZAN VISITS ROME.\n\n\nNo sooner had Amazan landed on the flat muddy shore of Batavia, than he\nimmediately set out toward the city of the Seven Mountains. He was\nobliged to traverse the southern part of Germany. At every four miles he\nmet with a prince and princess, maids of honor, and beggars. He was\ngreatly astonished every where at the coquetries of these ladies and\nmaids of honor, in which they indulged with German good faith. After\nhaving cleared the Alps he embarked upon the sea of Dalmatia, and landed\nin a city that had no resemblance to any thing he had heretofore seen.\nThe sea formed the streets, and the houses were erected in the water.\nThe few public places, with which this city was ornamented, were filled\nwith men and women with double faces--that which nature had bestowed on\nthem, and a pasteboard one, ill painted, with which they covered their\nnatural visage; so that this people seemed composed of spectres. Upon\nthe arrival of strangers in this country, they immediately purchase\nthese visages, in the same manner as people elsewhere furnish themselves\nwith hats and shoes. Amazan despised a fashion so contrary to nature. He\nappeared just as he was.\n\nMany ladies were introduced, and interested themselves in the handsome\nAmazan. But he fled with the utmost precipitancy, uttering the name of\nthe incomparable princess of Babylon, and swearing by the immortal gods,\nthat she was far handsomer than the Venetian girls.\n\n\"Sublime traitoress,\" he cried, in his transports, \"I will teach you to\nbe faithful!\"\n\nNow the yellow surges of the Tiber, pestiferous fens, a few pale\nemaciated inhabitants clothed in tatters which displayed their dry\ntanned hides, appeared to his sight, and bespoke his arrival at the gate\nof the city of the Seven Mountains,--that city of heroes and legislators\nwho conquered and polished a great part of the globe.\n\nHe expected to have seen at the triumphal gate, five hundred battalions\ncommanded by heroes, and in the senate an assembly of demi-gods giving\nlaws to the earth. But the only army he found consisted of about thirty\ntatterdemalions, mounting guard with umbrellas for fear of the sun.\nHaving arrived at a temple which appeared to him very fine, but not so\nmagnificent as that of Babylon, he was greatly astonished to hear a\nconcert performed by men with female voices.\n\n\"This,\" said he, \"is a mighty pleasant country, which was formerly the\nland of Saturn. I have been in a city where no one showed his own face;\nhere is another where men have neither their own voices nor beards.\"\n\nHe was told that these eunuchs had been trained from childhood, that\nthey might sing the more agreeably the praises of a great number of\npersons of merit. Amazan could not comprehend the meaning of this.\n\nThey then explained to him very pleasantly, and with many\ngesticulations, according to the custom of their country, the point in\nquestion. Amazan was quite confounded.\n\n\"I have traveled a great way,\" said he, \"but I never before heard such a\nwhim.\"\n\nAfter they had sung a good while, the Old Man of the Seven Mountains\nwent with great ceremony to the gate of the temple. He cut the air in\nfour parts with his thumb raised, two fingers extended and two bent, in\nuttering these words in a language no longer spoken: \"_To the city and\nto the universe_.\" Amazan could not see how two fingers could extend so\nfar.\n\nHe presently saw the whole court of the master of the world file off.\nThis court consisted of grave personages, some in scarlet, and others in\nviolet robes. They almost all eyed the handsome Amazan with a tender\nlook; and bowed to him, while commenting upon his personal appearance.\n\nThe zealots whose vocation was to show the curiosities of the city to\nstrangers, very eagerly offered to conduct him to several ruins, in\nwhich a muleteer would not choose to pass a night, but which were\nformerly worthy monuments of the grandeur of a royal people. He moreover\nsaw pictures of two hundred years standing, and statues that had\nremained twenty ages, which appeared to him masterpieces of their kind.\n\n\"Can you still produce such work?\" said Amazan.\n\n\"No, your excellency,\" replied one of the zealots; \"but we despise the\nrest of the earth, because we preserve these rarities. We are a kind of\nold clothes men, who derive our glory from the cast-off garbs in our\nwarehouses.\"\n\nAmazan was willing to see the prince's palace, and he was accordingly\nconducted thither. He saw men dressed in violet colored robes, who were\nreckoning the money of the revenues of the domains of lands, some\nsituated upon the Danube, some upon the Loire, others upon the\nGuadalquivir, or the Vistula.\n\n\"Oh! Oh!\" said Amazan, having consulted his geographical map, \"your\nmaster, then, possesses all Europe, like those ancient heroes of the\nSeven Mountains?\"\n\n\"He should possess the whole universe by divine right,\" replied a\nviolet-livery man; \"and there was even a time when his predecessors\nnearly compassed universal monarchy, but their successors are so good as\nto content themselves at present with some monies which the kings, their\nsubjects, pay to them in the form of a tribute.\"\n\n\"Your master is then, in fact, the king of kings. Is that his title?\"\nsaid Amazan.\n\n[Illustration: The Old Man of The Seven Mountains.--\"The Old Man of the\nSeven Mountains went with great ceremony to the gate of the temple. He\ncut the air in four parts with his thumb raised, two fingers extended\nand two bent, in uttering these words in a language no longer spoken:\n'To the city and to the universe.'\"]\n\n\"Your excellency, his title is _the servant of servants_! He was\noriginally a fisherman and porter, wherefore the emblems of his dignity\nconsist of keys and nets; but he at present issues orders to every\nking in Christendom. It is not a long while since he sent one hundred\nand one mandates to a king of the Celts, and the king obeyed.\"\n\n\n\n     THE SERVANT OF SERVANTS.\n\n     The personal service of Pius IX. as it existed in 1873, without\n     counting Swiss gensdarmes, palatine guards, &c., is thus described\n     by the author of _The Religion of Rome_, page 21.\n\n     \"The pope for his own exclusive personal service has four palatine\n     cardinals, three prelates and a master, ten prelates of the private\n     chamber, amongst whom are a cup-bearer, and a keeper of the\n     wardrobe; then two hundred and fifteen domestic prelates. Then\n     follow two hundred and forty-nine supernumerary prelates of the\n     private chamber, four private chamberlains of the sword and cloak,\n     Roman patricians, one of whom is a master of Santo Ospizto.\n\n     \"What things are these? what service do these private chamberlains\n     render? what is the use of this cloak and sword? We will undertake\n     to say that they do not know themselves. Let us proceed. Then come\n     next a quarter-master major, a correspondent general of the post,\n     and one hundred and thirty fresh private chamberlains of the sword\n     and cloak! Oh! it is a labor to count them! Next come two hundred\n     and sixty-five honorary monsignori _extra urbem_, six honorary\n     chamberlains of the sword and cloak, then eight private chaplains.\n     What a number of _private_ affairs must the pope have? Then\n     eighty-one honorary chaplains _extra urbem_; then--but enough,\n     enough, enough!\n\n     \"No! not enough for the pope. Then come two private monsignori of\n     the tonsure--still private!--then eighteen supernumeraries: two\n     adjutants of the chamber, a private steward--again private!--then\n     nineteen ushers, participants, and twenty-four supernumeraries.\n     Then--ah! there are no more. Let us cast up those we have named;\n     they amount only to a bagatelle of one thousand and twenty-five\n     persons! And take note, that there are not included in this list\n     the palatine administration, and the tribunal of the majordomo, the\n     Swiss guards, the gensdarmes, etc., etc.\n\n     \"If it be difficult for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of\n     heaven, how shall he who inhabits the Vatican enter there?--who has\n     treasures of all sorts, money, precious gems, precious and\n     countless works of art, vessels of silver and gold, and who has on\n     his head not one crown but three? who causes himself to be borne on\n     the shoulders of men; who causes them to kiss his feet; who has\n     millions of income, and a thousand persons to attend upon him?\n\n     \"There is, in fact, nothing to be compared with the effrontery with\n     which the Vatican enacts the comedy of poverty. Yes, it has reason\n     to believe still in miracles; it is an actual miracle which the\n     Roman court works, in drawing from the pockets of the poor the\n     obolus necessary to buy them bread, to spend it before their faces\n     in Sybaritic luxury, in a palace of _The Thousand and One Nights_.\n     On the day of Epiphany, the Jesuits sent to the Vatican some\n     hundreds of women and children of the Trastevere, to carry to the\n     pope a gift of money. The children to succor the poverty of the\n     pope, who consumes on himself and household enough to maintain a\n     whole city, gave him the money which they had received in gifts\n     from their parents, and the women of the Trastevere, the few pence\n     that they had laid aside for the needs of their families.\n\n     \"But what is most extraordinary is, that these women and children\n     who bestowed their charity on the pope, went to do it into halls\n     full of gold, marble, precious stones, velvet, silk, embroidery,\n     paintings, and statues, into the Vatican, that gigantic palace,\n     which occupies a space of fifteen hundred feet in length, and eight\n     hundred in breadth, with twenty courts, two hundred staircases,\n     eleven thousand rooms, galleries and halls full of treasures, and\n     the construction of which has cost hundreds of millions. These\n     children and these women passing through so much wealth never were\n     struck with the idea that Pius IX. ought to be something more than\n     a beggar; that there is no monarch in the world who has an abode\n     like the popes of Rome--the very sight of the gifts sent by all the\n     world to Pius IX. being enough to strike them dumb with\n     astonishment.\n\n     \"Now these women and these children don't comprehend this, and here\n     is the miracle. This Pius IX. ought to go into the cottages of\n     these poor women and take them money, instead of their going to\n     carry it into the luxurious palace of the pope.\n\n     \"The miracle becomes still greater every time that the Pope,\n     replying to those who bring money, talks of Jesus; for Jesus was in\n     a stable, not in a palace of eleven thousand rooms. Jesus would at\n     once have sent away the Swiss, the gensdarmes, the palatine guards,\n     the chamberlains private and not private, etc., and would have said\n     to the people of the Trastevere, and of the quarters of the poor:\n     'Come here into the Vatican, poor people, leave those wretched\n     cabins where you suffer so much; come to me; I have eleven thousand\n     rooms to offer you, one of which is quite enough for me, and so I\n     will divide these amongst those who have none.' This would have\n     been said by Christ, whom Pius IX. invokes so often, calling\n     himself His vicar or steward. But try, ye poor, to enter into the\n     Vatican, and you will find at once at the door a Swiss, who will\n     chase you away by blows of his halberd. He will let in anyone who\n     comes to bring money, but not a soul who comes to ask for it.\"--E.\n\n\n\n\"Your fisherman must then have sent five or six hundred thousand men to\nput these orders in execution?\"\n\n\"Not at all, your excellency. Our holy master is not rich enough to keep\nten thousand soldiers on foot: but he has five or six hundred thousand\ndivine prophets dispersed in other countries. These prophets of various\ncolors are, as they ought to be, supported at the expense of the people\nwhere they reside. They proclaim, from heaven, that my master may, with\nhis keys, open and shut all locks, and particularly those of strong\nboxes. A Norman priest, who held the post of confident of this king's\nthoughts, convinced him he ought to obey, without questioning, the one\nhundred and one thoughts of my master; for you must know that one of the\nprerogatives of the Old Man of the Seven Mountains is never to err,\nwhether he deigns to speak or deigns to write.\"\n\n\"In faith,\" said Amazan, \"this is a very singular man; I should be\npleased to dine with him.\"\n\n\"Were your excellency even a king, you could not eat at his table. All\nthat he could do for you, would be to allow you to have one served by\nthe side of his, but smaller and lower. But if you are inclined to have\nthe honor of speaking to him, I will ask an audience for you on\ncondition of the _buona mancia_, which you will be kind enough to give\nme.\" \"Very readily,\" said the Gangarid. The violet-livery man bowed: \"I\nwill introduce you to-morrow,\" said he. \"You must make three very low\nbows, and you must kiss the feet of the Old Man of the Seven Mountains.\"\nAt this information Amazan burst into so violent a fit of laughing that\nhe was almost choked; which, however, he surmounted, holding his sides,\nwhilst the violent emotions of the risible muscles forced the tears down\nhis cheeks, till he reached the inn, where the fit still continued upon\nhim.\n\nAt dinner, twenty beardless men and twenty violins produced a concert.\nHe received the compliments of the greatest lords of the city during the\nremainder of the day; but from their extravagant actions, he was\nstrongly tempted to throw two or three of these violet-colored gentry\nout of the window. He left with the greatest precipitation this city of\nthe masters of the world, where young men were treated so whimsically,\nand where he found himself necessitated to kiss an old man's toe, as if\nhis cheek were at the end of his foot.\n\n\n\n\nX.\n\nAN UNFORTUNATE ADVENTURE IN GAUL.\n\n\nIn all the provinces through which Amazan passed, he remained ever\nfaithful to the princess of Babylon, though incessantly enraged at the\nking of Egypt. This model of constancy at length arrived at the new\ncapital of the Gauls. This city, like many others, had alternately\nsubmitted to barbarity, ignorance, folly, and misery. The first name it\nbore was Dirt and Mire; it then took that of Isis, from the worship of\nIsis, which had reached even here. Its first senate consisted of a\ncompany of watermen. It had long been in bondage, and submitted to the\nravages of the heroes of the Seven Mountains; and some ages after, some\nother heroic thieves who came from the farther banks of the Rhine, had\nseized upon its little lands.\n\nTime, which changes all things, had formed it into a city, half of which\nwas very noble and very agreeable, the other half somewhat barbarous and\nridiculous. This was the emblem of its inhabitants. There were within\nits walls at least a hundred thousand people, who had no other\nemployment than play and diversion. These idlers were the judges of\nthose arts which the others cultivated. They were ignorant of all that\npassed at court; though they were only four short miles distant from it:\nbut it seemed to them at least six hundred thousand miles off.\nAgreeableness in company, gaiety and frivolty, formed the important and\nsole considerations of their lives. They were governed like children,\nwho are extravagantly supplied with gewgaws, to prevent their crying. If\nthe horrors were discussed, which two centuries before had laid waste\ntheir country, or if those dreadful periods were recalled, when one half\nof the nation massacred the other for sophisms, they, indeed, said,\n\"this was not well done;\" then, presently, they fell to laughing again,\nor singing of catches.\n\n[Illustration: Kissing an old man's toe.]\n\n\n\n     KISSING THE POPE'S FOOT.\n\n     On page 181 of _The Religion of Rome_, the author asks the\n     questions: \"Why does the pope cause his foot, or rather his\n     slipper, to be kissed? And when did this custom begin?\" His\n     explanation is as follows:\n\n     \"Theophilus Rainaldo and the Bollandist fathers, as well as other\n     Roman Catholic authors, tell us a gallant story of Pope St. Leo I.,\n     called the Great, which, if it were true, might show the origin of\n     the practice. They say that a young and very handsome devotee was\n     admitted on Easter day, to kiss the hand of Pope St. Leo after the\n     mass. The pope felt himself very much excited by this kiss, and\n     remembering the words of the Savior, 'If thy hand offend thee, cut\n     it off, and cast it from thee' (Matt. v. 30), he at once cut off\n     his hand. But as he was unable to perform mass with only one hand,\n     the people were in a great rage. The pope therefore prayed to God\n     to restore his hand, and God complied: his hand was again united to\n     the stump. And to avoid such dilemmas in future, Leo ordered that\n     thereafter no one should kiss his hand, but only his foot. A very\n     little common sense is sufficient to make us understand that such\n     was not the origin of this custom.\n\n     \"The first who invented this degrading act of kissing feet was the\n     Emperor Caligula. He, in his quality of Pontifex Maximus, ordered\n     the people to kiss his foot. Succeeding emperors refused such an\n     act of base slavery. But Heliogabalus, as emperor, and Pontifex\n     Maximus, again introduced it. After him, the custom fell into\n     disuse; but the Christian emperors retaining some of the wicked\n     fables given to the pagan emperors, permitted the kissing of the\n     foot as a compliment on the presentation of petitions. We may cite\n     a few instances. The acts of the Council of Chalcedon say that\n     Fazius, Bishop of Tyre, in his petition to the emperor, said, 'I\n     supplicate, prostrate, at your immaculate and divine feet.'\n     Bassianus, Bishop of Ephesus, says, 'I prostrate myself at your\n     feet.' Eunomius, Bishop of Nicomedia, says, 'I prostrate myself\n     before the footsteps of your power.' The Abbot Saba says, 'I am\n     come to adore the footsteps of your piety. Prococius, in his\n     _History of Mysteries_, says that the Emperor Justinian, at the\n     instigation of the proud Theodora, his wife, was the first amongst\n     the Christian emperors who ordered prostrations before himself and\n     his wife, and the kissing of their feet.\n\n     \"The ecclesiastics, the bishops, and, finally, the popes, were not\n     exempt from paying this homage to the emperors. The prelates of\n     Syria held this language to the Emperor Justinian. 'The pope of\n     holy memory, and the archbishop of ancient Rome, has come to your\n     pious conversation, and has been honored by your holy feet.' Pope\n     Gregory I., writing to Theodorus, the physician of the Emperor\n     Mauritius, in the year A.D. 593, said: 'My tongue cannot\n     sufficiently express the great benefits that I have received from\n     God Almighty and from our great emperor, for which I can only love\n     him and kiss his feet.' In the year A.D. 681 Pope Agathon, sending\n     his legates to the sixth council, writes to the Emperor Constantine\n     Pogonatus: 'As prostrate in your presence, and embracing your feet,\n     I implore you,' etc. In the seventh century, therefore, not only\n     did the popes not have their feet kissed, but they themselves were\n     obliged to kiss those of the emperor. Becoming sovereigns of Rome,\n     they soon began to adopt the same custom. Pope Eugenius II., who\n     died in 827, was the first who made it the law to kiss the papal\n     foot. From that time it was necessary to kneel before the popes.\n     Gregory VII. ordered all princes to submit to this practice.\n\n     \"From what we have said it is clear that the origin of feet-kissing\n     was entirely pagan and idolatrous. That this custom is in total\n     contradiction to the precepts of the Gospel would be a waste of\n     words to assert. Jesus Christ was so far from desiring people to\n     kiss his feet, that he set himself on one occasion to wash the feet\n     of his disciples. These are the words of the Gospel: 'He riseth\n     from supper, and laid aside his garments; and took a towel and\n     girded himself. After that he poured water into a basin, and began\n     to wash the disciples' feet, and to wipe them with the towel\n     wherewith he was girded.'\n\n     \"This act of Jesus Christ is in perfect keeping (John xiii. 4.5)\n     with all his precepts, with his inculcations of modesty, equality,\n     humility, and with his condemnation of those who set themselves\n     above others. Who would have said that a day would come in which\n     those claiming to be his vicars should cause people to kiss their\n     feet? How thoroughly has Catholicism borrowed from paganism its\n     idolatries? And notwithstanding this flagrant violation of the\n     religion of Christ, what a herd of people go and press their lips\n     on the slipper of the pope, as was done formerly to the Roman\n     emperors, the pontifices maximi, that is to say, the priests of\n     Jove.\"--E.\n\n\n\n\nIn proportion as the idlers were polished, agreeable, and amiable, it\nwas observed that there was a greater and more shocking contrast between\nthem and those who were engaged in business.\n\nAmong the latter, or such as pretended so to be, there was a gang of\nmelancholy fanatics, whose absurdity and knavery divided their\ncharacter,--whose appearance alone diffused misery,--and who would have\noverturned the world, had they been able to gain a little credit. But\nthe nation of idlers, by dancing and singing, forced them into obscurity\nin their caverns, as the warbling birds drive the croaking bats back to\ntheir holes and ruins.\n\nA smaller number of those who were occupied, were the preservers of\nancient barbarous customs, against which nature, terrified, loudly\nexclaimed. They consulted nothing but their worm-eaten registers. If\nthey there discovered a foolish or horrid custom, they considered it as\na sacred law. It was from this vile practice of not daring to think for\nthemselves, but extracting their ideas from the ruins of those times\nwhen no one thought at all, that in the metropolis of pleasure there\nstill remained some shocking manners. Hence it was that there was no\nproportion between crimes and punishments. A thousand deaths were\nsometimes inflicted upon an innocent victim, to make him acknowledge a\ncrime he had not committed.\n\nThe extravagancies of youth were punished with the same severity as\nmurder or parricide. The idlers screamed loudly at these exhibitions,\nand the next day thought no more about them, but were buried in the\ncontemplation of some new fashion.\n\nThis people saw a whole age elapse, in which the fine arts attained a\ndegree of perfection that far surpassed the most sanguine hopes.\nForeigners then repaired thither, as they did to Babylon, to admire the\ngreat monuments of architecture, the wonders of gardening, the sublime\nefforts of sculpture and painting. They were charmed with a species of\nmusic that reached the heart without astonishing the ears.\n\nTrue poetry, that is to say, such as is natural and harmonious, that\nwhich addresses the heart as well as the mind, was unknown to this\nnation before this happy period. New kinds of eloquence displayed\nsublime beauties. The theatres in particular re\u00ebchoed with masterpieces\nthat no other nation ever approached. In a word, good taste prevailed in\nevery profession to that degree, that there were even good writers among\nthe Druids.\n\nSo many laurels that had branched even to the skies, soon withered in an\nexhausted soil. There remained but a very small number, whose leaves\nwere of a pale dying verdure. This decay was occasioned by the facility\nof producing; laziness preventing good productions, and by a satiety of\nthe brilliant, and a taste for the whimsical. Vanity protected arts that\nbrought back times of barbarity; and this same vanity, in persecuting\npersons of real merit, forced them to quit their country. The hornets\nbanished the bees.\n\nThere were scarce any real arts, scarce any real genius, talent now\nconsisted in reasoning right or wrong upon the merit of the last age.\nThe dauber of a sign-post criticised with an air of sagacity the works\nof the greatest painters; and the blotters of paper disfigured the works\nof the greatest writers. Ignorance and bad taste had other daubers in\ntheir pay. The same things were repeated in a hundred volumes under\ndifferent titles. Every work was either a dictionary or a pamphlet. A\nDruid gazetteer wrote twice a week the obscure annals of an unknown\npeople possessed with the devil, and of celestial prodigies operated in\ngarrets by little beggars of both sexes. Other Ex-Druids, dressed in\nblack, ready to die with rage and hunger, set forth their complaints in\na hundred different writings, that they were no longer allowed to cheat\nmankind--this privilege being conferred on some goats clad in grey; and\nsome Arch-Druids were employed in printing defamatory libels.\n\nAmazan was quite ignorant of all this, and even if he had been\nacquainted with it, he would have given himself very little concern\nabout it, having his head filled with nothing but the princess of\nBabylon, the king of Egypt, and the inviolable vow he had made to\ndespise all female coquetry in whatever country his despair should drive\nhim.\n\nThe gaping ignorant mob, whose curiosity exceeds all the bounds of\nnature and reason, for a long time thronged about his unicorns. The more\nsensible women forced open the doors of his _hotel_ to contemplate his\nperson.\n\n[Illustration: Gaiety and frivolity.--\"There are within its walls at\nleast a hundred thousand people, who had no other employment than play\nand diversion.\"]\n\nHe at first testified some desire of visiting the court; but some of the\nidlers, who constituted good company and casually went thither, informed\nhim that it was quite out of fashion, that times were greatly changed,\nand that all amusements were confined to the city. He was invited that\nvery night to sup with a lady whose sense and talents had reached\nforeign climes, and who had traveled in some countries through which\nAmazan had passed. This lady gave him great pleasure, as well as the\nsociety he met at her house. Here reigned a decent liberty, gaiety\nwithout tumult, silence without pedantry, and wit without asperity. He\nfound that _good company_ was not quite ideal, though the title was\nfrequently usurped by pretenders. The next day he dined in a society far\nless amiable, but much more voluptuous. The more he was satisfied with\nthe guests, the more they were pleased with him. He found his soul\nsoften and dissolve, like the aromatics of his country, which gradually\nmelt in a moderate heat, and exhale in delicious perfumes.\n\nAfter dinner he was conducted to a place of public entertainment which\nwas enchanting; but condemned, however, by the Druids, because it\ndeprived them of their auditors, which, therefore, excited their\njealousy. The representation here consisted of agreeable verses,\ndelightful songs, dances which expressed the movements of the soul, and\nperspectives that charmed the eye in deceiving it. This kind of pastime,\nwhich included so many kinds, was known only under a foreign name. It\nwas called an _Opera_, which formerly signified, in the language of the\nSeven Mountains, work, care, occupation, industry, enterprise, business.\nThis exhibition enchanted him. A female singer, in particular, charmed\nhim by her melodious voice, and the graces that accompanied her. This\nchild of genius, after the performance, was introduced to him by his new\nfriends. He presented her with a handful of diamonds; for which she was\nso grateful, that she could not leave him all the rest of the day. He\nsupped with her and her companions, and during the delightful repast he\nforgot his sobriety, and became heated and oblivious with wine. What an\ninstance of human frailty!\n\nThe beautiful princess of Babylon arrived at this juncture, with her\nph\u0153nix, her chambermaid Irla, and her two hundred Gangaridian\ncavaliers mounted on their unicorns. It was a long while before the\ngates were opened. She immediately asked, if the handsomest, the most\ncourageous, the most sensible, and the most faithful of men was still in\nthat city? The magistrates readily concluded that she meant Amazan. She\nwas conducted to his _hotel_. How great was the palpitation of her\nheart!--the powerful operation of the tender passion. Her whole soul was\npenetrated with inexpressible joy, to see once more in her lover the\nmodel of constancy. Nothing could prevent her entering his chamber; the\ncurtains were open; and she saw the beautiful Amazan asleep and\nstupefied with drink.\n\nFormosanta expressed her grief with such screams as made the house echo.\nShe swooned into the arms of Irla. As soon as she had recovered her\nsenses, she retired from this fatal chamber with grief blended with\nrage.\n\n\"Oh! just heaven; oh, powerful Oromasdes!\" cried the beautiful princess\nof Babylon, bathed in tears. \"By whom, and for whom am I thus betrayed?\nHe that could reject for my sake so many princesses, to abandon me for\nthe company of a strolling Gaul! No! I can never survive this affront.\"\n\n\"This is the disposition of all young people,\" said Irla to her, \"from\none end of the world to the other. Were they enamoured with a beauty\ndescended from heaven, they would at certain moments forget her\nentirely.\"\n\n\"It is done,\" said the princess, \"I will never see him again whilst I\nlive. Let us depart this instant, and let the unicorns be harnessed.\"\n\nThe ph\u0153nix conjured her to stay at least till Amazan awoke, that he\nmight speak with him.\n\n\"He does not deserve it,\" said the princess. \"You would cruelly offend\nme. He would think that I had desired you to reproach him, and that I am\nwilling to be reconciled to him. If you love me, do not add this injury\nto the insult he has offered me.\"\n\nThe ph\u0153nix, who after all owed his life to the daughter of the king\nof Babylon, could not disobey her. She set out with all her attendants.\n\n\"Whither are you going?\" said Irla to her.\n\n\"I do not know,\" replied the princess; \"we will take the first road we\nfind. Provided I fly from Amazan for ever, I am satisfied.\"\n\n[Illustration: Ancient barbarous customs.]\n\n     ANCIENT BARBAROUS CUSTOMS.\n\n     William Howitt, in a note to his translation of _The Religion of\n     Rome_, (page 19), points out very clearly the evils which have\n     resulted to man from the sinister teaching of the upholders of\n     ancient barbarous customs:--\n\n     \"If anyone would satisfy himself of what Popery is at its centre;\n     what it does where it has had its fullest sway, let him make a tour\n     into the mountains in the vicinity of Rome, and see in a country\n     exceedingly beautiful by nature, what is the condition of an\n     extremely industrious population. In the rock towns of the Alban,\n     Sabine, and Volscian hills, you find a swarming throng of men,\n     women, and children, asses, pigs, and hens, all groveling in\n     inconceivable filth, squalor, and poverty. Filth in the streets, in\n     the houses, everywhere; fleas, fever, and small-pox, and the\n     densest ignorance darkening minds of singular natural cleverness. A\n     people brilliant in intellect, totally uneducated, and steeped in\n     the grossest superstition.\n\n     \"These dens of dirt, disease and, till lately, or brigandage, are\n     the evidences of a thousand years of priestly government! They, and\n     the country around them, are chiefly the property of the great\n     princely and ducal families which sprung out of the papal neposm of\n     Rome, and have by successive popes, their founders, been loaded\n     with the wealth of the nation. These families live in Rome, in\n     their great palaces, amidst every luxury and splendor, surrounded\n     by the finest works of art, and leave their tenants and dependents\n     without any attention from them. Some steward or middleman screws\n     the last soldo from them for rent; and when crops fail, lifts not a\n     finger to alleviate their misery.\n\n     \"And the Papal Government, too--a government pretendedly based on\n     the direct ordination of Him who went about doing good--what has it\n     done for them? Nothing but debauch their minds with idle ceremonies\n     and unscriptural dogmas,--legends, priests, monks and beggary! The\n     whole land is a land of beggars, made so by inculcated notions of a\n     spurious charity. Every countrywoman, many men, and every child,\n     boy or girl, are literally beggars--beggars importunate,\n     unappeasable, irrepressible! What a condition of mind for a\n     naturally noble and capable people to be reduced to by--a\n     religion!\"\n\n\n\nThe ph\u0153nix, who was wiser than Formosanta, because he was divested of\npassion, consoled her upon the road. He gently insinuated to her that it\nwas shocking to punish one's self for the faults of another; that Amazan\nhad given her proofs sufficiently striking and numerous of his fidelity,\nso that she should forgive him for having forgotten himself for one\nmoment in social company; that this was the only time in which he had\nbeen wanting of the grace of Oromasdes; that it would render him only\nthe more constant in love and virtue for the future; that the desire of\nexpiating his fault would raise him beyond himself; that it would be the\nmeans of increasing her happiness; that many great princesses before her\nhad forgiven such slips, and had had no reason to be sorry afterward;\nand he was so thoroughly possessed of the art of persuasion, that\nFormosanta's mind grew more calm and peaceable. She was now sorry she\nhad set out so soon. She thought her unicorns went too fast, but she did\nnot dare return. Great was the conflict between her desire of forgiving\nand that of showing her rage--between her love and vanity. However, her\nunicorns pursued their pace; and she traversed the world, according to\nthe prediction of her father's oracle.\n\nWhen Amazan awoke, he was informed of the arrival and departure of\nFormosanta and the ph\u0153nix. He was also told of the rage and\ndistraction of the princess, and that she had sworn never to forgive\nhim.\n\n\"Then,\" said he, \"there is nothing left for me to do, but follow her,\nand kill myself at her feet.\"\n\nThe report of this adventure drew together his festive companions, who\nall remonstrated with him. They said that he had much better stay with\nthem; that nothing could equal the pleasant life they led in the centre\nof arts and refined delicate pleasures; that many strangers, and even\nkings, preferred such an agreeable enchanting repose to their country\nand their thrones. Moreover, his vehicle was broken, and another was\nbeing made for him according to the newest fashion; that the best tailor\nof the whole city had already cut out for him a dozen suits in the\nlatest style; that the most vivacious, amiable, and fashionable ladies,\nat whose houses dramatic performances were represented, had each\nappointed a day to give him a regale. The girl from the opera was in the\nmeanwhile drinking her chocolate, laughing, singing, and ogling the\nbeautiful Amazan--who by this time clearly perceived she had no more\nsense than a goose.\n\nA sincerity, cordiality, and frankness, as well as magnanimity and\ncourage, constituted the character of this great prince, he related his\ntravels and misfortunes to his friends. They knew that he was\ncousin-german to the princess. They were informed of the fatal kiss she\nhad given the king of Egypt. \"Such little tricks,\" said they, \"are often\nforgiven between relatives, otherwise one's whole life would pass in\nperpetual uneasiness.\"\n\nNothing could shake his design of pursuing Formosanta; but his carriage\nnot being ready, he was compelled to remain three days longer among the\nidlers, who were still feasting and merry-making. He at length took his\nleave of them, by embracing them and making them accept some of his\ndiamonds that were the best mounted, and recommending to them a\nconstant pursuit of frivolity and pleasure, since\nthey were thereby made more agreeable and happy.\n\n\"The Germans,\" said he, \"are the greyheads of Europe; the people of\nAlbion are men formed; the inhabitants of Gaul are the children,--and I\nlove to play with children.\"\n\n\n\n\nXI.\n\nAMAZAN AND FORMOSANTA BECOME RECONCILED.\n\n\nThe guides had no difficulty in following the route the princess had\ntaken. There was nothing else talked of but her and her large bird. All\nthe inhabitants were still in a state of fascination. The banks of the\nLoire, of the Dordogue--the Garonne, and the Gironde, still echoed with\nacclamation.\n\nWhen Amazan reached the foot of the Pyrenees, the magistrates and Druids\nof the country made him dance, whether he would or not, a _Tambourin_;\nbut as soon as he cleared the Pyrenees, nothing presented itself that\nwas either gay or joyous. If he here and there heard a peasant sing,\nit was a doleful ditty. The inhabitants stalked with much gravity,\nhaving a few strung beads and a girted poniard. The nation dressed in\nblack, and appeared to be in mourning.\n\n[Illustration: Dancing a tambourin.--\"When Amazan reached the foot of\nthe Pyrenees, the magistrates and druids of the country made him dance,\nwhether he would or not, a Tambourin; but as soon as he cleared the\nPyrenees, nothing presented itself that was either gay or joyous.\"]\n\nIf Amazan's servants asked passengers any questions, they were answered\nby signs; if they went into an inn, the host acquainted his guests in\nthree words, that there was nothing in the house, but that the things\nthey so pressingly wanted might be found a few miles off.\n\nWhen these votaries to taciturnity were asked if they had seen the\nbeautiful princess of Babylon pass, they answered with less brevity than\nusual: \"We have seen her--she is not so handsome--there are no beauties\nthat are not tawny--she displays a bosom of alabaster, which is the most\ndisgusting thing in the world, and which is scarce known in our\nclimate.\"\n\nAmazan advanced toward the province watered by the Betis. The Tyrians\ndiscovered this country about twelve thousand years ago, about the time\nthey discovered the great Atlantic Isle, inundated so many centuries\nafter. The Tyrians cultivated Betica, which the natives of the country\nhad never done, being of opinion that it was not their place to meddle\nwith anything, and that their neighbors, the Gauls, should come and reap\ntheir harvests. The Tyrians had brought with them some Palestines, or\nJews, who, from that time, have wandered through every clime where money\nwas to be gained. The Palestines, by extraordinary usury, at fifty per\ncent., had possessed themselves of almost all the riches of the country.\nThis made the people of Betica imagine the Palestines were sorcerers;\nand all those who were accused of witchcraft were burnt, without mercy,\nby a company of Druids, who were called the Inquisitors, or the\n_Anthropokaies_. These priests immediately put their victims in a\nmasquerade habit, seized upon their effects, and devoutly repeated the\nPalestines' own prayers, whilst burning them by a slow fire, _por l'amor\nde Dios_.\n\nThe princess of Babylon alighted in that city which has since been\ncalled Sevilla. Her design was to embark upon the Betis to return by\nTyre to Babylon, and see again king Belus, her father; and forget, if\npossible, her perdious lover--or, at least, to ask him in marriage. She\nsent for two Palestines, who transacted all the business of the court.\nThey were to furnish her with three ships. The ph\u0153nix made all the\nnecessary contracts with them, and settled the price after some little\ndispute.\n\nThe hostess was a great devotee, and her husband, who was no less\nreligious, was a Familiar: that is to say, a spy of the Druid\nInquisitors or _Anthropokaies_.\n\nHe failed not to inform them, that in his house was a sorceress and two\nPalestines, who were entering into a compact with the devil, disguised\nlike a large gilt bird.\n\nThe Inquisitors having learned that the lady possessed a large quantity\nof diamonds, swore point blank that she was a sorceress. They waited\ntill night to imprison the two hundred cavaliers and the unicorns,\n(which slept in very extensive stables), for the Inquisitors are\ncowards.\n\nHaving strongly barricaded the gates, they seized the princess and Irla;\nbut they could not catch the ph\u0153nix, who flew away with great\nswiftness. He did not doubt of meeting with Amazan upon the road from\nGaul to Sevilla.\n\nHe met him upon the frontiers of Betica, and acquainted him with the\ndisaster that had befallen the princess.\n\nAmazan was struck speechless with rage. He armed himself with a steel\ncuirass damasquined with gold, a lance twelve feet long, two javelins,\nand an edged sword called the Thunderer, which at one single stroke\nwould rend trees, rocks, and Druids. He covered his beautiful head with\na golden casque, shaded with heron and ostrich feathers. This was the\nancient armor of Magog, which his sister Aldea gave him when upon his\njourney in Scythia. The few attendants he had with him all mounted their\nunicorns.\n\nAmazan, in embracing his dear ph\u0153nix, uttered only these melancholy\nexpressions: \"I am guilty! Had I not dined with the child of genius from\nthe opera, in the city of the idlers, the princess of Babylon would not\nhave been in this alarming situation. Let us fly to the\n_Anthropokaies_.\" He presently entered Sevilla. Fifteen hundred\nAlguazils guarded the gates of the inclosure in which the two hundred\nGangarids and their unicorns were shut up, without being allowed\nanything to eat. Preparations were already made for sacrificing the\nprincess of Babylon, her chambermaid Irla, and the two rich Palestines.\n\nThe high _Anthropokaie_, surrounded by his subaltern _Anthropokaies_,\nwas already seated upon his sacred tribunal. A crowd of Sevillians,\nwearing strung beads at their girdles, joined their two hands, without\nuttering a syllable, when the beautiful Princess, the maid Irla, and the\ntwo Palestines were brought forth, with their hands tied behind their\nbacks and dressed in masquerade habits.\n\nThe ph\u0153nix entered the prison by a dormer window, whilst the\nGangarids began to break open the doors. The invincible Amazan shattered\nthem without. They all sallied forth armed, upon their unicorns, and\nAmazan put himself at their head. He had no difficulty in overthrowing\nthe Alguazils, the Familiars, or the priests called _Anthropokaies_.\nEach unicorn pierced dozens at a time. The thundering Amazan cut to\npieces all he met. The people in black cloaks and dirty frize ran away,\nalways keeping fast hold of their blest beads, _por l'amor de Dios_.\n\nAmazan collared the high Inquisitor upon his tribunal, and threw him\nupon the pile, which was prepared about forty paces distant; and he also\ncast upon it the other Inquisitors, one after the other. He then\nprostrated himself at Formosanta's feet. \"Ah! how amiable you are,\" said\nshe; \"and how I should adore you, if you had not forsaken me for the\ncompany of an opera singer.\"\n\nWhilst Amazan was making his peace with the princess, whilst his\nGangarids cast upon the pile the bodies of all the _Anthropokaies_, and\nthe flames ascended to the clouds, Amazan saw an army that approached\nhim at a distance. An aged monarch, with a crown upon his head, advanced\nupon a car drawn by eight mules harnessed with ropes. An hundred other\ncars followed. They were accompanied by grave looking men in black\ncloaks or frize, mounted upon very fine horses. A multitude of people,\nwith greasy hair, followed silently on foot.\n\nAmazan immediately drew up his Gangarids about him, and advanced with\nhis lance couched. As soon as the king perceived him, he took off his\ncrown, alighted from his car, and embraced Amazan's stirrup, saying to\nhim: \"Man sent by the gods, you are the avenger of human kind, the\ndeliverer of my country. These sacred monsters, of which you have\npurged the earth, were my masters, in the name of the Old Man of the\nSeven Mountains. I was forced to submit to their criminal power. My\npeople would have deserted me, if I had only been inclined to moderate\ntheir abominable crimes. From this moment I breathe, I reign, and am\nindebted to you for it.\"\n\nHe afterward respectfully kissed Formosanta's hand, and entreated her to\nget into his coach (drawn by eight mules) with Amazan, Irla, and the\nph\u0153nix.\n\nThe two Palestine bankers, who still remained prostrate on the ground\nthrough fear and terror, now raised their heads. The troop of unicorns\nfollowed the king of Betica into his palace.\n\nAs the dignity of a king who reigned over a people of characteristic\nbrevity, required that his mules should go at a very slow pace, Amazan\nand Formosanta had time to relate to him their adventures. He also\nconversed with the ph\u0153nix, admiring and frequently embracing him. He\neasily comprehended how brutal and barbarous the people of the west\nshould be considered, who ate animals, and did not understand their\nlanguage; that the Gangarids alone had preserved the nature and dignity\nof primitive man; but he particularly agreed, that the most barbarous of\nmortals were the _Anthropokaies_, of whom Amazan had just purged the\nearth. He incessantly blessed and thanked him. The beautiful Formosanta\nhad already forgotten the affair in Gaul, and had her soul filled with\nnothing but the valor of the hero who had preserved her life. Amazan\nbeing made acquainted with the innocence of the embrace she had given to\nthe king of Egypt, and being told of the resurrection of the ph\u0153nix,\ntasted the purest joy, and was intoxicated with the most violent love.\n\nThey dined at the palace, but had a very indifferent repast. The cooks\nof Betica were the worst in Europe. Amazan advised the king to send for\nsome from Gaul. The king's musicians performed, during the repast, that\ncelebrated air which has since been called _the Follies of Spain_. After\ndinner, matters of business came upon the carpet.\n\nThe king enquired of the handsome Amazan, the beautiful Formosanta, and\nthe charming ph\u0153nix, what they proposed doing. \"For my part,\" said\nAmazan, \"my intention is to return to Babylon, of which I am the\npresumptive heir, and to ask of my uncle Belus the hand of my\ncousin-german, the incomparable Formosanta.\"\n\n\"My design certainly is,\" said the princess, \"never to separate from my\ncousin-germain. But I imagine he will agree with me, that I should\nreturn first to my father, because he only gave me leave to go upon a\npilgrimage to Bassora, and I have wandered all over the world.\"\n\n\"For my part,\" said the ph\u0153nix, \"I will follow every where these two\ntender, generous lovers.\"\n\n\"You are in the right,\" said the king of Betica; \"but your return to\nBabylon is not so easy as you imagine. I receive daily intelligence from\nthat country by Tyrian ships, and my Palestine bankers, who correspond\nwith all the nations of the earth. The people are all in arms toward the\nEuphrates and the Nile. The king of Scythia claims the inheritance of\nhis wife, at the head of three hundred thousand warriors on horseback.\nThe kings of Egypt and India are also laying waste the banks of the\nTygris and the Euphrates, each at the head of three hundred thousand\nmen, to revenge themselves for being laughed at. The king of Ethiopia is\nravaging Egypt with three hundred thousand men, whilst the king of Egypt\nis absent from his country. And the king of Babylon has as yet only six\nhundred thousand men to defend himself.\n\n\"I acknowledge to you,\" continued the king, \"when I hear of those\nprodigious armies which are disembogued from the east, and their\nastonishing magnificence--when I compare them to my trifling bodies of\ntwenty or thirty thousand soldiers, which it is so difficult to clothe\nand feed; I am inclined to think the eastern subsisted long before the\nwestern hemisphere. It seems as if we sprung only yesterday from chaos\nand barbarity.\"\n\n\"Sire,\" said Amazan, \"the last comers frequently outstrip those who\nfirst began the career. It is thought in my country that man was first\ncreated in India; but this I am not certain of.\"\n\n\"And,\" said the king of Betica to the ph\u0153nix, \"what do you think?\"\n\n\"Sire,\" replied the ph\u0153nix, \"I am as yet too young to have any\nknowledge concerning antiquity. I have lived only about twenty-seven\nthousand years; but my father, who had lived five times that age, told\nme he had learned from his father, that the eastern country had always\nbeen more populous and rich than the others. It had been transmitted to\nhim from his ancestors, that the generation of all animals had begun\nupon the banks of the Ganges. For my part, said he, I have not the\nvanity to be of this opinion. I cannot believe that the foxes of Albion,\nthe marmots of the Alps, and the wolves of Gaul, are descended from my\ncountry. In the like manner, I do not believe that the firs and oaks of\nyour country descended from the palm and cocoa trees of India.\"\n\n\"But from whence are we descended, then?\" said the king.\n\n\"I do not know,\" said the ph\u0153nix; \"all I want to know is, whither the\nbeautiful princess of Babylon and my dear Amazan may repair.\"\n\n\"I very much question,\" said the king, \"whether with his two hundred\nunicorns he will be able to destroy so many armies of three hundred\nthousand men each.\"\n\n\"Why not?\" said Amazan. The king of Betica felt the force of this\nsublime question, \"Why not?\" but he imagined sublimity alone was not\nsufficient against innumerable armies.\n\n\"I advise you,\" said he, \"to seek the king of Ethiopia. I am related to\nthat black prince through my Palestines. I will give you recommendatory\nletters to him. As he is at enmity with the king of Egypt, he will be\nbut too happy to be strengthened by your alliance. I can assist you with\ntwo thousand sober, brave men; and it will depend upon yourself to\nengage as many more of the people who reside, or rather skip, about the\nfoot of the Pyrenees, and who are called Vasques or Vascons. Send one of\nyour warriors upon an unicorn, with a few diamonds. There is not a\nVascon that will not quit the castle, that is, the thatched cottage of\nhis father, to serve you. They are indefatigable, courageous, and\nagreeable; and whilst you wait their arrival, we will give you\nfestivals, and prepare your ships. I cannot too much acknowledge the\nservice you have done me.\"\n\nAmazan realized the happiness of having recovered Formosanta, and\nenjoyed in tranquillity her conversation, and all the charms of\nreconciled love,--which are almost equal to a growing passion.\n\nA troop of proud, joyous Vascons soon arrived, dancing a _tambourin_.\nThe haughty and grave Betican troops were now ready. The old sun-burnt\nking tenderly embraced the two lovers. He sent great quantities of arms,\nbeds, chests, boards, black clothes, onions, sheep, fowls, flour, and\nparticularly garlic, on board the ships, and wished them a happy voyage,\ninvariable love, and many victories.\n\nProud Carthage was not then a sea-port. There were at that time only a\nfew Numidians there, who dried fish in the sun. They coasted along\nBizacenes, the Syrthes, the fertile banks where since arose Cyrene and\nthe great Chersonese.\n\nThey at length arrived toward the first mouth of the sacred Nile. It was\nat the extremity of this fertile land that the ships of all commercial\nnations were already received in the port of Canope, without knowing\nwhether the god Canope had founded this port, or whether the inhabitants\nhad manufactured the god--whether the star Canope had given its name to\nthe city, or whether the city had bestowed it upon the star. All that\nwas known of this matter was, that the city and the star were both very\nancient; and this is all that can be known of the origin of things, of\nwhat nature soever they may be.\n\nIt was here that the king of Ethiopia, having ravaged all Egypt, saw the\ninvincible Amazan and the adorable Formosanta come on shore. He took one\nfor the god of war, and the other for the goddess of beauty. Amazan\npresented to him the letter of recommendation from the king of Spain.\nThe king of Ethiopia immediately entertained them with some admirable\nfestivals, according to the indispensable custom of heroic times. They\nthen conferred about their expedition to exterminate the three hundred\nthousand men of the king of Egypt, the three hundred thousand of the\nemperor of the Indies, and the three hundred thousand of the great Khan\nof the Scythians, who laid siege to the immense, proud, voluptuous city\nof Babylon.\n\nThe two hundred Spaniards, whom Amazan had brought with him, said that\nthey had nothing to do with the king of Ethiopia's succoring Babylon;\nthat it was sufficient their king had ordered them to go and deliver it;\nand that they were formidable enough for this expedition.\n\nThe Vascons said they had performed many other exploits; that they\nwould alone defeat the Egyptians, the Indians, and the Scythians; and\nthat they would not march unless the Spaniards were placed in the\nrear-guard.\n\nThe two hundred Gangarids could not refrain from laughing at the\npretensions of their allies, and they maintained that with only one\nhundred unicorns, they could put to flight all the kings of the earth.\nThe beautiful Formosanta appeased them by her prudence, and by her\nenchanting discourse. Amazan introduced to the black monarch his\nGangarids, his unicorns, his Spaniards, his Vascons, and his beautiful\nbird.\n\nEvery thing was soon ready to march by Memphis, Heliopolis, Arsinoe,\nPetra, Artemitis, Sora, and Apamens, to attack the three kings, and to\nprosecute this memorable war, before which all the wars ever waged by\nman sink into insignificance.\n\nFame with her hundred tongues has proclaimed the victories Amazan gained\nover the three kings, with his Spaniards, his Vascons, and his unicorns.\nHe restored the beautiful Formosanta to her father. He set at liberty\nall his mistress's train, whom the king of Egypt had reduced to slavery.\nThe great Khan of the Scythians declared himself his vassal; and his\nmarriage was confirmed with princess Aldea. The invincible and generous\nAmazan, was acknowledged the heir to the kingdom of Babylon, and entered\nthe city in triumph with the ph\u0153nix, in the presence of a hundred\ntributary kings. The festival of his marriage far surpassed that which\nking Belus had given. The bull Apis was served up roasted at table. The\nkings of Egypt and India were cup-bearers to the married pair; and these\nnuptials were celebrated by five hundred illustrious poets of Babylon.\n\nOh, Muses! daughters of heaven, who are constantly invoked at the\nbeginning of a work, I only implore you at the end. It is needless to\nreproach me with saying grace, without having said _benedicite_. But,\nMuses! you will not be less my patronesses. Inspire, I pray you, the\n_Ecclesiastical Gazetteer_, the illustrious orator of the\n_Convulsionnaires_, to say every thing possible against _The Princess of\nBabylon_, in order that the work may be condemned by the Sorbonne, and,\ntherefore, be universally read. And prevent, I beseech you, O chaste and\nnoble Muses, any supplemental scribblers spoiling, by their fables, the\ntruths I have taught mortals in this faithful narrative.\n\n[Illustration: Clio, the Muse of History. From a painting by Antonio\nCanova.--\"Prevent, I beseech you, O chaste and noble Muses, any\nsupplemental scribblers spoiling, by their fables, the truths I have\ntaught mortals in this faithful narrative.\"]\n\n[Illustration: The Tax Collector.]\n\n\n\n\nTHE MAN OF FORTY CROWNS.\n\n\n\n\nI.\n\nNATIONAL POVERTY.\n\n\nAn old man, who is forever _pitying the present times, and extolling the\npast_, was saying to me: \"Friend, France is not so rich as it was under\nHenry the IVth.\"\n\n\"And why?\"\n\n\"Because the lands are not so well cultivated; because hands are wanting\nfor the cultivation; and because the day-laborer having raised the price\nof his work, many land owners let their inheritances he fallow.\"\n\n\"Whence comes this scarcity of hands?\"\n\n\"From this, that whoever finds in himself anything of a spirit of\nindustry, takes up the trades of embroiderer, chaser, watchmaker, silk\nweaver, attorney, or divine. It is also because the revocation of the\nEdict of Nantes has left a great void in the kingdom; because nuns and\nbeggars of all kinds have greatly multiplied; because the people in\ngeneral avoid as much as possible the hard labor of cultivation, for\nwhich we are born by God's destination, and which we have rendered\nignominious by our own opinions; so very wise are we!\n\n\"Another cause of our poverty lies in our new wants. We pay our\nneighbors four millions of livres on one article, and five or six upon\nanother, such, for example, as a stinking powder for stuffing up our\nnoses brought from America. Our coffee, tea, chocolate, cochineal,\nindigo, spices, cost us above sixty millions a year. All these were\nunknown to us in the reign of Henry the IVth, except the spices, of\nwhich, however, the consumption was not so great as it is now. We burn a\nhundred times more wax-lights than were burnt then; and get more than\nthe half of the wax from foreign countries, because we neglect our own\nhives. We see a hundred times more diamonds in the ears, round the\nnecks, and on the hands of our city ladies of Paris, and other great\ntowns, than were worn by all the ladies of Henry the IVth's court, the\nQueen included. Almost all the superfluities are necessarily paid for\nwith ready specie.\n\n\"Observe especially that we pay to foreigners above fifteen millions of\nannuities on the _H\u00f4tel-de-Ville_; and that Henry the IVth, on his\naccession, having found two millions of debt in all on this imaginary\n_H\u00f4tel_, very wisely paid off a part, to ease the state of this burden.\n\n\"Consider that our civil wars were the occasion of the treasures of\nMexico being poured into the kingdom, when Don Philip _el Discreto_ took\nit into his head to buy France, and that since that time, our foreign\nwars have eased us of a good half of our money.\n\n\"These are partly the causes of our poverty; a poverty which we hide\nunder varnished ceilings, or with the help of our dealers in fashion. We\nare poor with taste. There are some officers of revenue, there are\ncontractors or jobbers, there are merchants, very rich; their children,\ntheir sons-in-law, are also very rich, but the nation in general is\nunfortunately not so.\"\n\nThis old man's discourse, well or ill grounded, made a deep impression\non me; for the curate of my parish, who had always had a friendship for\nme, had taught me a little of geometry and of history: and I begin to\nreflect a little, which is very rare in my province. I do not know\nwhether he was right or not in every thing, but being very poor, I could\nvery easily believe that I had a great many companions of my misery.\n\n\n\n\nII.\n\nDISASTER OF THE MAN OF FORTY CROWNS.\n\n\nI very readily make known to the _universe_ that I have a landed estate\nwhich would yield me forty crowns a year, were it not for the tax laid\non it.\n\nThere came forth several edicts from certain persons, who, having\nnothing better to do, govern the state at their fire-side, the preamble\nof these edicts was, \"that the legislative and executive was born, _jure\ndivino_, the co-proprietor of my land;\" and that I owe it at least the\nhalf of what I possess. The enormity of this legislative and executive\npower made me bless myself. What would it be if that power which\npresides over \"the essential order of society,\" were to take the whole\nof my little estate? The one is still more divine than the other.\n\nThe comptroller general knows that I used to pay, in all, but twelve\nlivres; that even this was a heavy burden on me, and that I should have\nsunk under it, if God had not given me the talent of making wicker\nbaskets, which helped to carry me through my trials. But how should I,\non a sudden, be able to give the king twenty crowns?\n\nThe new ministers also said in their preamble, that it was not fit to\ntax anything but the land, because every thing arises from the land,\neven rain itself, and consequently that nothing was properly liable to\ntaxation, but the fruits of the land.\n\nDuring the last war, one of their collectors came to my house, and\ndemanded of me, for my quota, three measures of corn, and a sack of\nbeans, the whole worth twenty crowns, to maintain the war--of which I\nnever knew the reason, having only heard it said, that there was nothing\nto be got by it for our country, and a great deal to lose. As I had not\nat that time either corn, or beans, or money, the legislative and\nexecutive power had me dragged to prison; and the war went on as well as\nit could.\n\nOn my release from the dungeon, being nothing but skin and bone, whom\nshould I meet but a jolly fresh colored man in a coach and six? He had\nsix footmen, to each of whom he gave for his wages more than the double\nof my revenue. His head-steward, who, by the way, looked in as good\nplight as himself, had of him a salary of two thousand livres, and\nrobbed him every year of twenty thousand more. His mistress had in six\nmonths stood him in forty thousand crowns. I had formerly known him when\nhe was less well to pass than myself. He owned, by way of comfort to me,\nthat he enjoyed four hundred thousand livres a year.\n\n\"I suppose, then,\" said I, \"that you pay out of this income two hundred\nthousand to the state, to help to support that advantageous war we are\ncarrying on; since I, who have but just a hundred and twenty livres a\nyear, am obliged to pay half of them.\"\n\n\"I,\" said he, \"I contribute to the wants of the state? You are surely\njesting, my friend. I have inherited from an uncle his fortune of eight\nmillions, which he got at Cadiz and at Surat; I have not a foot of land;\nmy estate lies in government contracts, and in the funds. I owe the\nstate nothing. It is for you to give half of your substance,--you who\nare a proprietor of land. Do you not see, that if the minister of the\nrevenue were to require anything of me in aid of our country, he would\nbe a blockhead, that could not calculate? for every thing is the produce\nof the land. Money and the paper currency are nothing but pledges of\nexchange. If, after having laid the sole tax, the tax that is to supply\nthe place of all others, on those commodities, the government were to\nask money of me; do you not see, that this would be a double load? that\nit would be asking the same thing twice over? My uncle sold at Cadiz to\nthe amount of two millions of your corn, and of two millions of stuffs\nmade of your wool; upon these two articles he gained cent. per cent. You\nmust easily think that this profit came out of lands already taxed. What\nmy uncle bought for tenpence of you, he sold again for above fifty\nlivres at Mexico; and thus he made a shift to return to his own country\nwith eight millions clear.\n\n\"You must be sensible, then, that it would be a horrid injustice to\nre-demand of him a few farthings on the tenpence he paid you. If twenty\nnephews like me, whose uncles had gained each eight millions at Buenos\nAyres, at Lima, at Surat, or at Pondicherry, were, in the urgent\nnecessities of the state, each to lend to it only two hundred thousand\nlivres, that would produce four millions. But what horror would that\nbe! Pay then thou, my friend, who enjoyest quietly the neat and clear\nrevenue of forty crowns; serve thy country well, and come now and then\nto dine with my servants in livery.\"\n\nThis plausible discourse made me reflect a good deal, but I cannot say\nit much comforted me.\n\n\n\n\nIII.\n\nCONVERSATION WITH A GEOMETRICIAN.\n\n\nIt sometimes happens that a man has no answer to make, and yet is not\npersuaded. He is overthrown without the feeling of being convinced. He\nfeels at the bottom of his heart a scruple, a repugnance, which hinders\nhim from believing what has been proved to him. A geometrician\ndemonstrates to you, that between a circle and a tangent, you may thread\na number of curves, and yet cannot get one straight line to pass. Your\neyes, your reason, tell you the contrary. The geometrician gravely\nanswers you, that it is an infinitesimal of the second order. You stare\nin stupid silence, and quit the field all astonished, without having any\nclear idea, without comprehending anything, and without having any reply\nto make.\n\nConsult but a geometrician of more candor, and he explains the mystery\nto you.\n\n\"We suppose,\" says he, \"what cannot be in nature, lines which have\nlength without breadth. Naturally and philosophically speaking, it is\nimpossible for one real line to penetrate another. No curve, nor no\nright line can pass between two real lines that touch one another. These\ntheorems that puzzle you are but sports of the imagination, ideal\nchimeras. Whereas true geometry is the art of measuring things actually\nexistent.\"\n\nI was perfectly well satisfied with the confession of the sensible\nmathematician, and, with all my misfortune, could not help laughing on\nlearning that there was a quackery even in that science, which is called\nthe sublime science. My geometrician was a kind of philosophical\npatriot, who had deigned to chat with me sometimes in my cottage. I said\nto him:\n\n\"Sir, you have tried to enlighten the cockneys of Paris, on a point of\nthe greatest concern to mankind, that of the duration of human life. It\nis to you alone that the ministry owes its knowledge of the due rate of\nannuities for lives, according to different ages. You have proposed to\nfurnish the houses in town with what water they may want, and to deliver\nus at length from the shame and ridicule of hearing water cried about\nthe streets, and of seeing women inclosed within an oblong hoop,\ncarrying two pails of water, both together of about thirty pounds\nweight, up to a fourth story. Be so good, in the name of friendship, to\ntell me, how many two-handed bipeds there may be in France?\"\n\nTHE GEOMETRICIAN.--It is assumed, that there may be about twenty\nmillions, and I am willing to adopt this calculation as the most\nprobable, till it can be verified, which it would be very easy to do,\nand which, however, has not hitherto been done, because _one does not\nalways think of every thing_.\n\nTHE MAN OF FORTY CROWNS.--How many acres, think you, the whole territory\nof France contains?\n\nTHE GEOMETRICIAN.--One hundred and thirty millions, of which almost the\nhalf is in roads, in towns, villages, moors, heaths, marshes, sands,\nbarren lands, useless convents, gardens of more pleasure than profit,\nuncultivated grounds, and bad grounds ill cultivated. We might reduce\nall the land which yields good returns to seventy-five millions of\nsquare acres; but let us state them at fourscore millions. One cannot do\ntoo much for one's country.\n\nTHE MAN OF FORTY CROWNS.--How much may you think each acre brings in\nyearly, one year with another, in corn, seeds of all kinds, wine,\nfish-ponds, wood, metals, cattle, fruit, wool, silk, oil, milk, clear of\nall charges, without reckoning the tax?\n\nTHE GEOMETRICIAN.--Why, if they produce each twenty-five livres, (about\ntwenty English shillings), it is a great deal; but not to discourage our\ncountrymen, let us put them at thirty livres. There are acres which\nproduce constantly regenerating value, and which are estimated at three\nhundred livres: there are others which only produce three livres. The\nmean proportion between three and three hundred is thirty; for you must\nallow that three is to thirty as thirty is to three hundred. If, indeed,\nthere were comparatively many acres at thirty livres, and very few at\nthree hundred, our account would not hold good; but, once more, I would\nnot be over punctilious.\n\nTHE MAN OF FORTY CROWNS.--Well, sir; how much will these fourscore\nmillions of acres yield of revenue, estimated in money?\n\nTHE GEOMETRICIAN.--The account is ready made; they will produce two\nthousand four hundred millions of livres of the present currency.\n\nTHE MAN OF FORTY CROWNS.--I have read that Solomon possessed, of his own\nproperty, twenty-five thousand millions of livres, in ready money; and\ncertainly there are not two thousand four hundred millions of specie\ncirculating in France, which, I am told, is much greater and much richer\nthan Solomon's country.\n\nTHE GEOMETRICIAN.--There lies the mystery. There may be about nine\nhundred millions circulating throughout the kingdom; and this money,\npassing from hand to hand, is sufficient to pay for all the produce of\nthe land, and of industry. The same crown may pass ten times from the\npocket of the cultivator, into that of the ale-housekeeper, and of the\ntax-gatherer.\n\nTHE MAN OF FORTY CROWNS.--I apprehend you. But you told me that we are,\nin all, about twenty millions of inhabitants, men, women, old and young.\nHow much, pray, do you allow for each?\n\nTHE GEOMETRICIAN.--One hundred and twenty livres, or forty crowns.\n\nTHE MAN OF FORTY CROWNS.--You have just guessed my revenue. I have four\nacres, which, reckoning the fallow years with those of produce, bring me\nin one hundred and twenty livres; which is little enough, God knows.\n\nBut if every individual were to have his contingent, would that be no\nmore than five louis d'ors a year?\n\nTHE GEOMETRICIAN.--Certainly not, according to our calculation, which I\nhave a little amplified. Such is the state of human nature. Our life and\nour fortune have narrow limits. In Paris, they do not, one with another,\nlive above twenty-two or twenty-three years, and, one with another,\nhave not, at the most, above a hundred and twenty livres a year to\nspend. So that your food, your raiment, your lodging, your movables, are\nall represented by the sum of one hundred and twenty livres.\n\nTHE MAN OF FORTY CROWNS.--Alas! What have I done to you, that you thus\nabridge me of my fortune and life? Can it then be true, that I have but\nthree and twenty years to live, unless I rob my fellow-creatures of\ntheir share?\n\nTHE GEOMETRICIAN.--This is incontestable in the good city of Paris. But\nfrom these twenty-three years you must deduct ten, at the least, for\nyour childhood, as childhood is not an enjoyment of life; it is a\npreparation; it is the porch of the edifice; it is the tree that has not\nyet given fruits; it is the dawn of a day. Then again, from the thirteen\nyears which remain to you, deduct the time of sleep, and that of\ntiresomeness of life, and that will be at least a moiety. You will then\nhave six years and a half left to pass in vexation, in pain, in some\npleasures, and in hopes.\n\nTHE MAN OF FORTY CROWNS.--Merciful heaven! At this rate, your account\ndoes not allow us above three years of tolerable existence.\n\nTHE GEOMETRICIAN.---That is no fault of mine. Nature cares very little\nfor individuals. There are insects which do not live above one day, but\nof which the species is perpetual. Nature resembles those great princes,\nwho reckon as nothing the loss of four hundred thousand men, so they but\naccomplish their august designs.\n\nTHE MAN OF FORTY CROWNS.--Forty Crowns and three years of life! What\nresource can you imagine against two such curses?\n\nTHE GEOMETRICIAN.--As to life, it would be requisite to render the air\nof Paris more pure--that men should eat less and take more\nexercise--that mothers should suckle their own children--that people\nshould be no longer so ill-advised as to dread inoculation. This is what\nI have already said; and as to fortune, why, even marry and rear a\nfamily.\n\nTHE MAN OF FORTY CROWNS.--How! Can the way to live more at ease be to\nassociate to my own bad circumstances those of others?\n\nTHE GEOMETRICIAN.--Five or six bad circumstances put together form a\ntolerable establishment. Get a good wife, and we will say only two sons\nand two daughters; this will make seven hundred and twenty livres for\nyour little family, that is to say, if distributive justice were to take\nplace, and that each individual had an hundred and twenty livres a year.\nYour children, in their infancy, stand you in almost nothing; when grown\nup they will ease and help you. Their mutual aid will save you a good\npart of your expenses, and you may live very happy, like a philosopher.\nAlways provided, however, that those worthy gentlemen who govern the\nstate have not the barbarity to extort from each of you twenty crowns a\nyear. But the misfortune is, we are no longer in the golden age, where\nthe men, born all equals, had an equal part in the nutritive productions\nof uncultivated land. The case is now far from being so good a one, as\nthat every two-handed biped possesses land to the value of an hundred\nand twenty livres a year.\n\nTHE MAN OF FORTY CROWNS.--'Sdeath! You ruin us. You said but just now,\nthat in a country of fourscore millions of inhabitants, each of them\nought to enjoy an hundred and twenty livres a year, and now you take\nthem away from us again!\n\nTHE GEOMETRICIAN.--I was computing according to the registers of the\ngolden age, but we must reckon according to that of iron. There are many\ninhabitants who have but the value of ten crowns a year, others no more\nthan four or five, and above six millions of men who have absolutely\nnothing.\n\nTHE MAN OF FORTY CROWNS.--Nothing? Why they would perish of hunger in\nthree days' time.\n\nTHE GEOMETRICIAN.--Not in the least. The others, who possess their\nportions, set them to work, and share with them. It is from this\narrangement that the pay comes for the divine, the confectioner, the\napothecary, the preacher, the actor, the attorney, and the\nhackney-coachman. You thought yourself very ill off, to have no more\nthan a hundred and twenty livres a year, reduced to a hundred and eight\nby your tax of twelve livres. But consider the soldiers who devote their\nblood to their country at the rate of fourpence a day. They have not\nabove sixty-three livres a year for their livelihood, and yet they make\na comfortable shift, by a number of them joining their little stock and\nliving in common.\n\nTHE MAN OF FORTY CROWNS.--So then an ex-Jesuit has more than five times\nthe pay of a soldier. And yet the soldiers have done more service to the\nstate under the eyes of the king at Fontenoy, at Laufelt, at the siege\nof Fribourg, than the reverend Father Le Valette ever did in his life.\n\nTHE GEOMETRICIAN.--Nothing can be truer: nay, every one of these\nturned-adrift Jesuits, having now become free, has more to spend than\nwhat he cost his convent. There are even some among them who have gained\na good deal of money by scribbling pamphlets against the parliaments, as\nfor example, the reverend father Patouillet, and the reverend father\nMonote. In short, in this world every one sets his wits to work for a\nlivelihood. One is at the head of a manufactory of stuffs; another of\nporcelain; another undertakes the opera; another the _Ecclesiastical\nGazette_; another a tragedy in familiar life, or a novel or romance in\nthe English style; this maintains the stationer, the ink-maker, the\nbookseller, the hawker, who might else be reduced to beggary. There is\nnothing, then, but the restitution of the hundred and twenty livres to\nthose who have nothing, that makes the state flourish.\n\nTHE MAN OF FORTY CROWNS.--A pretty way of flourishing, truly!\n\nTHE GEOMETRICIAN.--And yet there is no other. In every country it is the\nrich that enable the poor to live. This is the sole source of the\nindustry of commerce. The more industrious a nation itself is, the more\nit gains from foreign countries. Could we, on our foreign trade, get ten\nmillions a year by the balance in our favor, there would, in twenty\nyears, be two hundred millions more in the nation. This would afford ten\nlivres a head more, on the supposition of an equitable distribution;\nthat is to say, that the dealers would make each poor person earn ten\nlivres the more, once paid, in the hopes of making still more\nconsiderable gains. But commerce, like the fertility of the earth, has\nits bounds, otherwise its progression would be _ad infinitum_. Nor,\nbesides, is it clear, that the balance of our trade is constantly\nfavorable to us; there are times in which we lose.\n\nTHE MAN OF FORTY CROWNS.--I have heard much talk of population. If our\ninhabitants were doubled, so that we numbered forty millions of people\ninstead of twenty, what would be the consequence?\n\nTHE GEOMETRICIAN.--It would be this: that, one with another, each would\nhave, instead of forty, but twenty crowns to live upon; or that the land\nshould produce double the crops it now does; or that there should be\ndouble the national industry, or of gain from foreign countries; or that\nhalf of the people should be sent to America; or that one half of the\nnation should eat the other.\n\nTHE MAN OF FORTY CROWNS.--Let us then remain satisfied with our twenty\nmillions of inhabitants, and with our hundred and twenty livres a head,\ndistributed as it shall please the Lord. Yet this situation is a sad\none, and your iron age is hard indeed.\n\nTHE GEOMETRICIAN.--There is no nation that is better off; and there are\nmany that are worse. Do you believe that there is in the North\nwherewithal to afford to each inhabitant the value of an hundred and\ntwenty of our livres a year? If they had had the equivalent of this, the\nHuns, the Vandals, and the Franks would not have deserted their country,\nin quest of establishments elsewhere, which they conquered, fire and\nsword in hand.\n\nTHE MAN OF FORTY CROWNS.--If I were to listen to you, you would persuade\nme presently that I am happy with my hundred and twenty livres.\n\nTHE GEOMETRICIAN.--If you would but think yourself happy, you would then\nbe so.\n\nTHE MAN OF FORTY CROWNS.--A man cannot imagine what actually is not,\nunless he be mad.\n\nTHE GEOMETRICIAN.--I have already told you, that in order to be more at\nyour ease, and more happy than you are, you should take a wife; to which\nI tack, however, this clause, that she has, as well as you, one hundred\nand twenty livres a year; that is to say, four acres at ten crowns an\nacre. The ancient Romans had each but one. If your children are\nindustrious, they can each earn as much by their working for others.\n\nTHE MAN OF FORTY CROWNS.--So that they may get money, without others\nlosing it.\n\nTHE GEOMETRICIAN.--Such is the law of all nations: there is no living\nbut on these terms.\n\nTHE MAN OF FORTY CROWNS.--And must my wife and I give each of us the\nhalf of our produce to the legislative and executive power, and the new\nministers of state rob us of the price of our hard labor, and of the\nsubstance of our poor children, before they are able to get their\nlivelihood? Pray, tell me, how much money will these new ministers of\nours bring into the king's coffers, by this _jure divino_ system?\n\nTHE GEOMETRICIAN.--You pay twenty crowns on four acres, which bring you\nin forty. A rich man, who possesses four hundred acres will, by the new\ntariff, pay two thousand crowns; and the whole fourscore millions of\nacres will yield to the king, twelve hundred millions of livres a year,\nor four hundred millions of crowns.\n\nTHE MAN OF FORTY CROWNS.--That appears to me impracticable and\nimpossible.\n\nTHE GEOMETRICIAN.--And very much you are in the right to think so: and\nthis impossibility is a geometrical demonstration that there is a\nfundamental defect in the calculation of our new ministers.\n\nTHE MAN OF FORTY CROWNS.--Is not there also demonstrably a prodigious\ninjustice in taking from me the half of my corn, of my hemp, of the wool\nof my sheep, etc., and, at the same time, to require no aid from those\nwho shall have gained ten, twenty, or thirty thousand livres a year, by\nmy hemp, of which they will have made linen,--by my wool, of which they\nwill have made cloth,--by my corn, which they will have sold at so much\nmore than it cost them?\n\nTHE GEOMETRICIAN.--The injustice of this administration is as evident as\nits calculation is erroneous. It is right to favor industry; but opulent\nindustry ought to contribute to support the state. This industry will\nhave certainly taken from you a part of your one hundred and twenty\nlivres, and appropriated that part to itself, in selling you your shirts\nand your coat twenty times dearer than they would have cost you, if you\nhad made them yourself. The manufacturer who shall have enriched\nhimself, at your expense, will, I allow, have also paid wages to his\nworkmen, who had nothing of themselves, but he will, every year, have\nsunk, and put by a sum that will, at length, have produced to him thirty\nthousand livres a year. This fortune then he will have acquired at your\nexpense. Nor can you ever sell him the produce of your land dear enough\nto reimburse you for what he will have got by you; for were you to\nattempt such an advance of your price, he would procure what he wanted\ncheaper from other countries. A proof of which is, that he remains\nconstantly possessor of his thirty thousand livres a year, and you of\nyour one hundred and twenty livres, that often diminish, instead of\nincreasing.\n\nIt is then necessary and equitable, that the refined industry of the\ntrader should pay more than the gross industry of the farmer. The same\nis to be said of the collectors of the revenue. Your tax had previously\nbeen but twelve livres, before our great ministers were pleased to take\nfrom you twenty crowns. On these twelve livres, the collector retained\ntenpence, or ten _sols_ for himself. If in your province there were five\nhundred thousand souls, he will have gained two hundred and fifty\nthousand livres a year. Suppose he spends fifty thousand, it is clear,\nthat at the end of ten years he will be two millions in pocket. It is\nthen but just that he should contribute his proportion, otherwise, every\nthing would be perverted, and go to ruin.\n\nTHE MAN OF FORTY CROWNS.--I am very glad you have taxed the officer of\nthe revenue. It is some relief to my imagination. But since he has so\nwell increased his superfluity, what shall I do to augment my small\nmodicum?\n\nTHE GEOMETRICIAN.--I have already told you, by marrying, by laboring, by\ntrying to procure from your land some sheaves of corn in addition to\nwhat it previously produced.\n\nTHE MAN OF FORTY CROWNS.--Well! granted then that I shall have been duly\nindustrious; that all my countrymen will have been so too; and that the\nlegislative and executive power shall have received a good round tax;\nhow much will the nation have gained at the end of the year?\n\nTHE GEOMETRICIAN.--Nothing at all; unless it shall have carried on a\nprofitable foreign trade. But life will have been more agreeable in it.\nEvery one will, respectively, in proportion, have had more clothes, more\nlinen, more movables than he had before. There will have been in the\nnation a more abundant circulation. The wages would have been, in\nprocess of time, augmented, nearly in proportion to the number of the\nsheaves of corn, of the tods of wool, of the ox-hides, of the sheep and\ngoats, that will have been added, of the clusters of grapes that will\nhave been squeezed in the wine-press. More of the value of commodities\nwill have been paid to the king in money, and the king will have\nreturned more value to those he will have employed under his orders; but\nthere will not be half a crown the more in the kingdom.\n\nTHE MAN OF FORTY CROWNS.---What will then remain to the government at\nthe end of the year?\n\nTHE GEOMETRICIAN.--Once more, nothing. This is the case of government in\ngeneral. It never lays by anything. It will have got its living, that is\nto say, its food, raiment, lodging, movables. The subject will have done\nso too. Where a government amasses treasure, it will have squeezed from\nthe circulation so much money as it will have amassed. It will have made\nso many wretched, as it will have put by forty crowns in its coffers.\n\nTHE MAN OF FORTY CROWNS.--At this rate, then, Henry IV. was but a\nmean-spirited wretch, a miser, a plunderer, for I have been told that he\nhad chested up in the Bastile, above fifty millions of livres according\nto our present currency.\n\nTHE GEOMETRICIAN.--He was a man as good, and as prudent, as he was\nbrave. He was preparing to make a just war, and by amassing in his\ncoffers twenty-two millions of the currency of that time, besides which\nhe had twenty more to receive, which he left in circulation, he spared\nthe people above a hundred millions that it would have cost, if he had\nnot taken those useful measures. He made himself morally sure of success\nagainst an enemy who had not taken the like precaution. The\nprobabilities were prodigiously in his favor. His twenty-two millions,\nin bank, proved that there was then in this kingdom, twenty-two millions\nof surplusage of the territorial produce, so that no one was a sufferer.\n\nTHE MAN OF FORTY CROWNS.--My father then told me the truth, when he said\nthat the subject was in proportion more rich under the administration of\nthe Duke of Sully than under that of our new ministers, who had laid on\nthe _single_ tax, the _sole_ tax, and who, out of my forty crowns, have\ntaken away twenty. Pray, tell me, is there another nation in the world\nthat enjoys this precious advantage of the _sole tax_?\n\nTHE GEOMETRICIAN.--Not one opulent nation. The English, who are not much\ngiving to laughing, could not, however, help bursting out, when they\nheard that men of intelligence, among us, had proposed this kind of\nadministration. The Chinese exact a tax from all the foreign trading\nships that resort to Canton. The Dutch pay, at Nangazaqui, when they are\nreceived in Japan, under pretext that they are not Christians. The\nLaplanders, and the Samoieds, are indeed subjected to a sole tax in\nsables or marten-skins. The republic of St. Marino pays nothing more\nthan tithes for the maintenance of that state in its splendor.\n\nThere is, in Europe, a nation celebrated for its equity and its valor,\nthat pays no tax. This is Switzerland. But thus it has happened. The\npeople have put themselves in the place of the Dukes of Austria and of\nZeringue. The small cantons are democratical, and very poor. Each\ninhabitant pays but a trifling sum toward the support of this little\nrepublic. In the rich cantons, the people are charged, for the state,\nwith those duties which the Archdukes of Austria and the lords of the\nland used to exact. The protestant cantons are, in proportion, twice as\nrich as the catholic, because the state, in the first, possesses the\nlands of the monks. Those who were formerly subjects to the Archdukes of\nAustria, to the Duke of Zeringue, and to the monks, are now the subjects\nof their own country. They pay to that country the same tithes, the same\nfines of alienation, that they paid to their former masters; and as the\nsubjects, in general, have very little trade, their merchandise is\nliable to no charges, except some small staple duties. The men make a\ntrade of their courage, in their dealings with foreign powers, and sell\nthemselves for a certain term of years, which brings some money into\ntheir country at our expense: and this example is as singular a one in\nthe civilized world, as is the sole tax now laid on by our new\nlegislators.\n\nTHE MAN OF FORTY CROWNS.--So, sir, the Swiss are not plundered, _jure\ndivino_, of one-half of their goods; and he that has four cows in\nSwitzerland is not obliged to give two of them to the state?\n\nTHE GEOMETRICIAN.--Undoubtedly, not. In one canton, upon thirteen tons\nof wine, they pay one, and drink the other twelve. In another canton,\nthey pay the twelfth, and drink the remaining eleven.\n\nTHE MAN OF FORTY CROWNS.--Why am not I a Swiss? That cursed tax, that\nsingle and singularly iniquitous tax, that has reduced me to beggary!\nBut then again, three or four hundred taxes, of which it is impossible\nfor me to retain or pronounce the bare names, are they more just and\nmore tolerable? Was there ever a legislator, who, in founding a state,\nwished to create counselors to the king, inspectors of coal-meters,\ngaugers of wine, measurers of wood, searchers of hog-tongues,\ncomptrollers of salt butter? or to maintain an army of rascals, twice as\nnumerous as that of Alexander, commanded by sixty generals, who lay the\ncountry under contribution, who gain, every day, signal victories, who\ntake prisoners, and who sometimes sacrifice them in the air, or on a\nboarded stage, as the ancient Scythians did, according to what my vicar\ntold me?\n\nNow, was such a legislation, against which so many outcries were raised,\nand which caused the shedding of so many tears, much better than the\nnewly imposed one, which at one stroke, cleanly and quietly takes away\nhalf of my subsistence? I am afraid, that on a fair liquidation, it will\nbe found that under the ancient system of the revenue, they used to\ntake, at times and in detail, three-quarters of it.\n\nTHE GEOMETRICIAN.--_Iliacos intra muros peccatur et extra. Est modus in\nretus. Caveas fine quidnimie._\n\nTHE MAN OF FORTY CROWNS.--I have learned a little of history, and\nsomething of geometry; but I do not understand a word of Latin.\n\nTHE GEOMETRICIAN.--The sense is, pretty nearly, as follows. _There is\nwrong on both sides. Keep to a medium in every thing. Nothing too much._\n\nTHE MAN OF FORTY CROWNS.--I say, nothing too much; that is really my\nsituation; but the worst of it is, I have not enough.\n\nTHE GEOMETRICIAN.--I allow that you must perish of want, and I too, and\nthe state too, if the new administration should continue only two years\nlonger; but it is to be hoped heaven will have mercy on us.\n\nTHE MAN OF FORTY CROWNS.--We pass our lives in hope, and die hoping to\nthe last. Adieu, sir, you have enlightened me, but my heart is grieved.\n\nTHE GEOMETRICIAN.--This is, indeed, often the fruit of knowledge.\n\n[Illustration: Palace of the barefooted Carmelites.--\"What would you\nplease to have, my son?\"--\"A morsel of bread, my reverend father. The\nnew edicts have stripped me of everything.\"--\"Son, know that we\nourselves beg charity; we do not bestow it.\"]\n\n\n\n\nIV.\n\nAN ADVENTURE WITH A CARMELITE.\n\n\nWhen I had thanked the academician of the Academy of Sciences, for\nhaving set me right, I went away quite out of heart, praising\nprovidence, but muttering between my teeth these doleful words: \"_What!\nto have no more than forty crowns a year to live on, nor more than\ntwenty-two years to live!_ Alas! may our life be yet shorter, since it\nis to be so miserable!\"\n\nAs I was saying this, I found myself just opposite a very superb house.\nAlready was I feeling myself pressed by hunger. I had not so much as the\nhundred and twentieth part of the sum that by right belongs to each\nindividual. But as soon as I was told that this was the palace of my\nreverend fathers, the bare-footed Carmelites, I conceived great hopes,\nand said to myself, since these saints are humble enough to go\nbare-footed, they will be charitable enough to give me a dinner.\n\nI rang. A Carmelite came to the door.\n\n\"What would you please to have, my son?\"\n\n\"A morsel of bread, my reverend father. The new edicts have stripped me\nof every thing.\"\n\n\"Son, know that we ourselves beg charity; we do not bestow it.\"[1]\n\n\"What! while your holy institute forbids you to wear shoes, you have the\nhouse of a prince, and can you refuse to me a meal?\"\n\n\"My son, it is true, we go without stockings and shoes; that is an\nexpense the less; we feel no more cold in our feet than in our hands.\nAs to our fine house, we built it very easily, as we have a hundred\nthousand livres a year of income from houses in the same street.\"\n\n\"So, then! you suffer me to die of hunger, while you have an income of a\nhundred thousand livres! I suppose you pay fifty thousand of these to\nthe new government?\"\n\n\"Heaven preserve us from paying a single farthing! It is only the\nproduce of the land cultivated by laborious hands, callous with work,\nand moistened with tears, that owes taxes to the legislative and\nexecutive power. The alms which have been bestowed upon us, have enabled\nus to build those houses, by the rent of which we get a hundred thousand\nlivres a year. But these alms, coming from the fruits of the earth, and\nhaving, consequently, already paid the tax, ought not to pay twice. They\nhave sanctified the faithful believers, who have impoverished themselves\nto enrich us, and we continue to beg charity, and to lay under\ncontribution the Fauxbourg of St. Germain, in order to sanctify a still\ngreater number of the faithful believers.\"[2]\n\nHaving thus spoken, the Carmelite politely shut the door in my face.\n\nI then passed along and stopped before the _H\u00f4tel_ of the _Mousquetaires\ngris_, and related to those gentlemen what had just happened to me. They\ngave me a good dinner and half a crown, (_un ecu_). One of them proposed\nto go directly and set fire to the convent; but a musqueteer, more\ndiscreet than he, remonstrated with him, insisting that the time for\naction had not yet arrived, and implored him to wait patiently a little\nlonger.[3]\n\n\n[1] Victor Hugo in his poem, _Christ at the Vatican_, (translated by\nG.B. Burleigh,) rebukes this inhuman spirit of monkish greed and\navarice, which always receives but neves gives in return. In the poem,\nChrist is represented as saying:\n\n                               \"----I have said,\n     'I will have mercy and not sacrifice;'--\n     Have said, 'Give freely what, without a price,\n     Was given to you.' To my redeemed, instead,\n     You sell baptism upon their natal bed;\n     Sell to the sinner void indulgences;\n     To lovers sell the natural right to wed;\n     Sell to the dying the privilege of decease,\n     And sell your funeral masses to the dead!\n     Your prayers and masses and communions sell;\n     Beads, benedictions, crosses; in your eyes\n     Nothing is sacred,--all is merchandise.\"--E.\n\n\n[2] In a recent number of _The Nineteenth Century_, Mr. Alex. A. Knox,\nin an able criticism on the writings of Voltaire, says very truly:\n\n\"It should not be forgotten that in his day a very large portion of the\nsoil of France was in the hands of the clergy, free from all burdens,\nsave in so far as the clergy chose to execute them by the way of\n'gratuitous gifts.' The condition of the French peasant was frightful.\nArthur Young, Dr. Moore, and others have described it at a somewhat\nlater date, but it was even so in Voltaire's time. Of course the\n'clerical immunities' were far from being the only cause of all this\nmisery; but they were a frightful addition to it.\"\n\n[3] The degradation of labor, and the corruption and injustice of the\npapal priesthood, were the inciting causes of the great revolution in\nFrance, which at length overturned the monarchy, and convulsed, for so\nlong a period, every nation in Europe. In reading this romance of the\nhardships of the laborer, we may learn to comprehend the true principles\nof Voltaire, and recognize his great benevolence and sympathy with\nsuffering and distress. We may also listen to the first faint mutterings\nof the terrible storm of blood and retribution, that was so soon to\nburst over unhappy France, and overwhelm in its lurid course all ranks\nand conditions of mankind--the innocent and the guilty, the oppressed\nand the oppressor, the peasant and the priest.--E.\n\n\n\n\nV.\n\nAUDIENCE OF THE COMPTROLLER GENERAL.\n\n\nI went, with my half-crown, to present a petition to the comptroller\ngeneral, who was that day giving audience.\n\nHis anti-chamber was filled with people of all kinds. There were there\nespecially some with more bluff faces, more prominent bellies, and more\narrogant looks than my man of eight millions. I durst not draw near to\nthem; I saw them, but they did not observe me.\n\nA monk, a great man for tithes, had begun a suit at law against certain\nsubjects of the state, whom he called his tenants. He had already a\nlarger income than the half of his parishioners put together, and was\nmoreover lord of the manor. His claim was, that whereas his vassals had,\nwith infinite pains, converted their heaths into vineyards, they owed\nhim a tithe of the wine, which, taking into the account the price of\nlabor, of the vine-props, of the casks and cellarage, would carry off\nabove a quarter of the produce.\n\n\"But,\" said he, \"as the tithes are due, _jure divino_, I demand the\nquarter of the substance of my tenants, in the name of God.\"\n\nThe minister of the revenue said to him, \"I see how charitable you are.\"\n\nA farmer-general, extremely well-skilled in assessments, interposed,\nsaying:\n\n\"Sir, that village can afford nothing to this monk; as I have, but the\nlast year, made the parishioners pay thirty-two taxes on their wine,\nbesides their over-consumption of the allowance for their own drinking.\nThey are entirely ruined. I have seized and sold their cattle and\nmovables, and yet they are still my debtors. I protest, then, against\nthe claim of the reverend father.\"\n\n\"You are in the right,\" answered the minister of the revenue, \"to be his\nrival; you both equally love your neighbor, and you both edify me.\"\n\nA third, a monk and lord of the manor, whose tenants were in mortmain,\nwas waiting for a decree of the council that should put him in\npossession of all the estate of a Paris cockney, who having,\ninadvertently, lived a year and a day in a house subject to this\nservitude, and inclosed within the hands of this priest, had died at the\nyear's end. The monk was claiming all the estate of this cockney, and\nclaiming it _jure divino_.\n\nThe minister found by this, that the heart of this monk was as just and\nas tender as those of the others.\n\nA fourth, who was comptroller of the royal domains, presented a specious\nmemorial, in which he justified himself for his having reduced twenty\nfamilies to beggary. They had inherited from their uncles, their aunts,\ntheir brothers, or cousins; and were liable to pay the duties. The\nofficers of the domain had generously proved to them, that they had not\nset the full value on their inheritances,--that they were much richer\nthan they believed, and, consequently, having condemned them to a triple\nfine, ruined them in charges, and threw the heads of the families into\njail, he had bought their best possessions without untying his\npurse-strings.\n\nThe comptroller general said to him, in a tone indeed rather bitter:\n\n_\"Euge, controlleur bone et fidelis, quia supra pauca fuisti fidelis,\nfermier-general te constituam.\"_\n\nBut to a master of the requests, who was standing at his side, he said\nin a low voice:\n\n\"We must make these blood-suckers, sacred and profane, disgorge. It is\ntime to give some relief to the people, who, without our care, and our\nequity, would have nothing to live upon in this world at least, however\nthey might fare in the other.\"\n\nSome, of profound genius, presented projects to him. One of them had\nimagined a scheme to lay a tax on wit. \"All the world,\" said he, \"will\nbe eager to pay, as no one cares to pass for a fool.\"\n\nThe minister declared to him, \"I exempt you from the tax.\"\n\nAnother proposed to lay the _only_ tax upon songs and laughing, in\nconsideration that we were the merriest nation under the sun, and that a\nsong was a relief and comfort for every thing. But the minister\nobserved, that of late there were hardly any songs of pleasantry made;\nand he was afraid that, to escape the tax, we would become too serious.\n\nThe next that presented himself, was a trusty and loyal subject, who\noffered to raise for the king three times as much, by making the nation\npay three times less. The minister advised him to learn arithmetic.\n\nA fourth proved to the king in the way of _friendship_, that he could\nnot raise above seventy-five millions, but that he was going to procure\nhim two hundred and twenty-five. \"You will oblige me in this,\" said the\nminister, \"as soon as we shall have paid the public debts.\"\n\nAt length, who should appear but a deputy of the new author, who makes\nthe legislative power co-proprietor of all our lands, _jure divino_, and\nwho was giving the king twelve hundred millions of revenue. I knew the\nman again who had flung me into prison for not having paid my twenty\ncrowns, and throwing myself at the feet of the comptroller general, I\nimplored his justice; upon which, he burst out a laughing, and telling\nme, it was a trick that had been played me, he ordered the doers of this\nmischief in jest to pay me a hundred crowns damages, and exempted me\nfrom the land-tax for the rest of my life. I said to him, \"God bless\nyour honor!\"\n\n\n\n\nVI.\n\nTHE MAN OF FORTY CROWNS MARRIES, BECOMES A FATHER, AND DESCANTS UPON THE\nMONKS.\n\n\nThe Man of Forty Crowns having improved his understanding, and having\naccumulated a moderate fortune, married a very pretty girl, who had an\nhundred crowns a year of her own. As soon as his son was born, he felt\nhimself a man of some consequence in the state. He was famous for making\nthe best baskets in the world, and his wife was an excellent seamstress.\nShe was born in the neighborhood of a rich abbey of a hundred thousand\nlivres a year. Her husband asked me one day, why those gentlemen, who\nwere so few in number, had swallowed so many of the forty crown lots?\n\"Are they more useful to their country than I am?\" \"No, dear neighbor.\"\n\"Do they, like me, contribute at least to the population of it?\" \"No.\"\n\"Do they cultivate the land? Do they defend the state when it is\nattacked?\" \"No, they pray to God for us.\" \"Well, then, I will pray to\nGod for us.\" \"Well, then, I will pray to God for them, in return.\"\n\nQUESTION.--How many of these useful gentry, men and women, may the\nconvents in this kingdom contain?\n\nANSWER.--By the lists of the superintendents, taken toward the end of\nthe last century, there were about ninety thousand.\n\nQUESTION.--According to our ancient account, they ought not, at forty\ncrowns a head, to possess above ten millions eight hundred thousand\nlivres. Pray, how much have they actually?\n\nANSWER.--They have to the amount of fifty millions, including the\nmasses, and alms to the mendicant monks, who really lay a considerable\ntax on the people. A begging friar of a convent in Paris, publicly\nbragged that his wallet was worth fourscore thousand livres a year.\n\nQUESTION.--Let us now consider how much the repartition of fifty\nmillions among ninety thousand shaven crowns gives to each? Let us see,\nis it not five hundred and fifty-five livres?\n\nANSWER.--Yes, and a considerable sum it is in a numerous society, where\nthe expenses even diminish by the quantity of consumers; for ten persons\nmay live together much cheaper than if each had his separate lodging and\ntable.\n\nQUESTION.--So that the ex-Jesuits, to whom there is now assigned a\npension of four hundred livres, are then really losers by the bargain.\n\nANSWER.--I do not think so; for they are almost all of them retired\namong their friends, who assist them. Several of them say masses for\nmoney, which they did not do before; others get to be preceptors; some\nare maintained by female bigots; each has made a shift for himself: and,\nperhaps, at this time, there are few of them, who have tasted of the\nworld, and of liberty, that would resume their former chains. The\nmonkish life, whatever they may say, is not at all to be envied. It is a\nmaxim well known, that the monks are a kind of people who assemble\nwithout knowing, live without loving, and die without regretting each\nother.\n\nQUESTION.--You think, then, that it would be doing them a great service,\nto strip them of all their monks' habits?\n\nANSWER.--They would undoubtedly gain much by it, and the state still\nmore. It would restore to the country a number of subjects, men and\nwomen, who have rashly sacrificed their liberty, at an age to which the\nlaws do not allow a capacity of disposing of tenpence a year income. It\nwould be taking these corpses out of their tombs, and afford a true\nresurrection. Their houses might become hospitals, or be turned into\nplaces for manufactures. Population would be increased. All the arts\nwould be better cultivated. One might at least diminish the number of\nthese voluntary victims by fixing the number of novices. The country\nwould have subjects more useful, and less unhappy. Such is the opinion\nof all the magistrates, such the unanimous wish of the public, since its\nunderstanding is enlightened. The example of England, and other states,\nis an evident proof of the necessity of this reformation. What would\nEngland do at this time, if, instead of forty thousand seamen, it had\nforty thousand monks? The more they are multiplied, the greater need\nthere is of a number of industrious subjects. There are undoubtedly\nburied in the cloisters many talents, which are lost to the state. To\nmake a kingdom nourish, there should be the fewest priests and the most\nartisans possible. So far ought the ignorance and barbarism of our\nforefathers to be from being any rule for us, that they ought rather to\nbe an admonition to us, to do what they would do, if they were in our\nplace, with our improvements in knowledge.\n\nQUESTION.--It is not then out of hatred to monks that you wish to\nabolish them, but out of love to your country? I think as you do. I\nwould not have my son a monk. And if I thought I was to rear children\nfor nothing better than a cloister, I would not wish to become a father.\n\nANSWER.--Where in fact, is that good father of a family that would not\ngroan to see his son and daughter lost to society? This is seeking the\nsafety of the soul. It may be so, but a soldier that seeks the safety of\nhis body, when his duty is to fight, is punished. We are all soldiers of\nthe state; we are in the pay of society; we become deserters when we\nquit it.\n\nWhy, then, has monkishness prevailed? Because, since the days of\nConstantine, the government has been everywhere absurd and detestable;\nbecause the Roman empire came to have more monks than soldiers; because\nthere were a hundred thousand of them in Egypt alone; because they were\nexempt from labor and taxes; because the chiefs of those barbarous\nnations which destroyed the empire, having turned Christians, in order\nto govern Christians, exercised the most horrid tyranny; because, to\navoid the fury of these tyrants, people threw themselves in crowds into\ncloisters, and so, to escape one servitude, put themselves into another;\nbecause the popes, by instituting so many different orders of sacred\ndrones, contrived to have so many subjects to themselves in other\nstates; because a peasant likes better to be called reverend father, and\nto give his benedictions, than to follow a plough's tail; because he\ndoes not know that the plough is nobler than a monk's habit; because he\nhad rather live at the expense of fools than by a laborious occupation;\nin short, because he does not know that, in making a monk of himself, he\nis preparing for himself unhappy days, of which the sad groundwork will\nbe nothing but a _tedium vit\u00e6_ and repentance.\n\nQUESTION.--I am satisfied. Let us have no monks, for the sake of their\nown happiness, as well as ours. But I am sorry to hear it said by the\nlandlord of our village, who is father to four boys and three girls,\nthat he does not know how to dispose of his daughters, unless he makes\nnuns of them.\n\nANSWER.--This too often repeated plea is at once inhuman, detrimental to\nthe country, and destructive to society. Every time that it can be said\nof any condition of life whatever, that if all the world were to embrace\nit mankind would perish, it is proved that that condition is a worthless\none, and that whoever embraces it does all the mischief to mankind that\nin him lies.\n\nNow, it being a clear consequence that if all the youth of both sexes\nwere to shut themselves up in cloisters the world would perish, monkery\nis, if it were but in that light alone, the enemy to human nature,\nindependently of the horrid evils it has formerly caused.\n\nQUESTION.--Might not as much be said of soldiers?\n\n[Illustration: Entering the convent.--\"There is a necessity for houses\nof retreat for old age, for infirmity, for deformity. But by the most\ndetestable of all abuses, these foundations are for well-made persons.\nLet a hump-backed woman present herself to enter into a cloister, and\nshe will be rejected with contempt, unless she will give an immense\nportion to the house.\"]\n\nANSWER. Certainly not; for if every subject carried arms in his turn, as\nformerly was the practice in all republics, and especially in that of\nRome, the soldier is but the better farmer for it. The soldier, as a\ngood subject ought to do, marries, and fights for his wife and children.\nWould it were the will of heaven that every laborer was a soldier and a\nmarried man! They would make excellent subjects. But a monk, merely in\nhis quality of a monk, is good for nothing but to devour the substance\nof his countryman. There is no truth more generally acknowledged.\n\nQUESTION.--But, sir, the daughters of poor gentlemen, who cannot portion\nthem off in marriage, what are they to do?\n\nANSWER.---Do! They should do, as has a thousand times been said, like\nthe daughters in England, in Scotland, Ireland, Switzerland, Holland,\nhalf Germany, Sweden, Norway, Denmark, Tartary, Turkey, Africa, and in\nalmost all the rest of the globe. They will prove much better wives,\nmuch better mothers, when it shall have been the custom, as in Germany,\nto marry women without fortune. A woman, industrious and a good\neconomist, will do more good in a house, than a daughter of a farmer of\nthe revenue, who spends more in superfluities than she will have brought\nof income to her husband.\n\nThere is a necessity for houses of retreat for old age, for infirmity,\nfor deformity. But by the most detestable of all abuses, these\nfoundations are for well-made persons. Let a hump-backed old woman\npresent herself to enter into a cloister, and she will be rejected with\ncontempt, unless she will give an immense portion to the house. But what\ndo I say? Every nun must bring her dower with her; she is else the\nrefuse of the convent. Never was there a more intolerable abuse.\n\nQUESTION.--Thank you, sir. I swear to you that no daughter of mine shall\nbe a nun. They shall learn to spin, to sew, to make lace, to embroider,\nto render themselves useful. I look on the vows of convents to be crimes\nagainst one's country and one's self. Now, sir, I beg you will explain\nto me, how comes it that a certain writer, in contradiction to human\nkind, pretends that monks are useful to the population of a state,\nbecause their buildings are kept in better repair than those of the\nnobility, and their lands better cultivated?\n\nANSWER.---He has a mind to divert himself; he knows but too well, that\nten families who have each five thousand livres a year in land, are a\nhundred, nay, a thousand times more useful than a convent that enjoys\nfifty thousand livres a year, and which has always a secret hoard. He\ncries up the fine houses built by the monks, and it is precisely those\nfine houses that provoke the rest of the subjects; it is the very cause\nof complaint to all Europe. The vow of poverty condemns those palaces,\nas the vow of humility protests against pride, and as the vow of\nextinguishing one's race is in opposition to nature.\n\nQUESTION.--Bless me! Who can this be that advances so strange a\nproposition?\n\nANSWER. It is the _friend of mankind_, [Monsieur le M. de Mirabeau, in\nhis book entitled _L'Ami des Hommes_. It is against this marquis that the\njest on the _only tax_ is leveled; a tax proposed by him], or rather the\nfriend of the monks.\n\nQUESTION.--I begin to think it advisable to be very distrustful of\nbooks.\n\nANSWER.--The best way is to make use, with regard to them, of the same\ncaution, as with men. Choose the most reasonable, examine them, and\nnever yield unless to evidence.\n\n\n\n\nVII.\n\nON TAXES PAID TO A FOREIGN POWER.\n\n\nAbout a month ago, the Man of Forty Crowns came to me, holding both his\nsides, which seemed ready to burst with laughing. In short, he laughed\nso heartily that I could not help laughing also, without knowing at\nwhat. So true it is, that man is born an imitative animal, that instinct\nrules us, and that the great emotions of the soul are catching. _Ut\nridentibus arrident, ita flentibus adflent, Humani vultus._\n\nWhen he had had his laugh out, he told me that he had just come from\nmeeting with a man who called himself the prothonotary of the Holy See,\nand that this personage was sending away a great sum of money to an\nItalian, three hundred leagues off, in the name and behalf of a\nFrenchman, on whom the king had bestowed a small fief or fee; because\nthe said Frenchman could never enjoy this benefit of the king's\nconferring, if he did not give to this Italian the first year's income.\n\n\"The thing,\" said I, \"is very true; but it is not quite such a laughing\nmatter either. It costs France about four hundred thousand livres a\nyear, in petty duties of this kind; and in the course of two centuries\nand a half, that this custom has lasted, we have already sent to Italy\nfourscore millions.\"\n\n\"Heavenly Father!\" he exclaimed, \"how many forty crowns would that make?\nSome Italian, then, subdued us, I suppose, two centuries and a half ago,\nand laid that tribute upon us!\"\n\n\"In good faith,\" answered I, \"he used to impose on us in former times,\nin a much more burthensome way. That is but a trifle in comparison to\nwhat, for a long time, he levied on our poor nations of Europe.\"\n\nThen I related to him how those holy usurpations had taken place, and\ncame to be established. He knows a little of history, and does not want\nfor sense. He easily conceived that we had been slaves, and that we were\nstill dragging a little bit of our chain that we could not get rid of.\nHe spoke much and with energy, against this abuse; but with what respect\nfor religion in general. With what reverence did he express himself for\nthe bishops! How heartily did he wish them many forty crowns a year,\nthat they might spend them in their dioceses in good works.\n\nHe also wished that all the country vicars might have a number of forty\ncrowns, that they might live with decency.\n\n\"It is a sad thing,\" said he, \"that a vicar should be obliged to dispute\nwith his flock for two or three sheaves of corn, and that he should not\nbe amply paid by the country. These eternal contests for imaginary\nrights, for the tithes, destroy the respect that is owing to them. The\nunhappy cultivator who shall have already paid to the collectors his\ntenth penny, and the twopence a livre, and the tax, and the capitation,\nand the purchase of his exemption from lodging soldiers,--after he shall\nhave lodged soldiers,--for this unfortunate man, I say, to see the vicar\ntake away in addition the tithe of his produce, he can no longer look on\nhim as his pastor, but as one that flays him alive,--that tears from\nhim the little skin that is left him. He feels but too sensible, that\nwhile they are, _jure divino_, robbing him of his tenth sheaf, they have\nthe diabolical cruelty not to give him credit for all that it will have\ncost him to make that sheaf grow. What then remains to him for himself\nand family? Tears, want, discouragement, despair, and thus he dies of\nfatigue and misery. If the vicar were paid by the country, he would be a\ncomfort to his parishioners, instead of being looked on by them as their\nenemy.\"\n\nThe worthy man melted as he uttered these words; he loved his country,\nand the public good was his idol. He would sometimes emphatically say,\n\"What a nation would the French be if it pleased!\" We went to see his\nson, whom the mother, a very neat and clean woman, was nursing. \"Alas!\"\nsaid the father, \"here thou art, poor child, and hast nothing to pretend\nto but twenty-three years of life, and forty crowns a year.\"\n\n\n\n\nVIII.\n\nON PROPORTIONS.\n\n\nThe produce of the extremes is equal to the produce of the means: but\ntwo sacks of corn stolen, are not, to those who stole them, as the loss\nof their lives is to the interest of the person from whom they were\nstolen.\n\nThe prior of ----, from whom two of his domestic servants in the country\nhad stolen two measures of corn, has just had the two delinquents\nhanged. This execution has cost him more than all his harvest has been\nworth to him; and since that time he has not been able to get a servant.\n\nIf the laws had ordained that such as stole their master's corn should\nwork in his grounds, during their lives in fetters, and with a bell at\ntheir neck fixed to a collar, the prior would have been a considerable\ngainer by it.\n\n\"Terror should be preventively employed against crimes;\" very true: but\nwork, on compulsion, and lasting shame, strike more terror than the\ngallows.\n\n[Illustration: The rack.--\"I was summoned to give evidence against a\nmiller, who has been put to the torture, ordinary and extraordinary, and\nwho has been found innocent. I saw him faint away under redoubled\ntortures. I heard the crash of his bones. His outcries and screams of\nagony are not yet out of my ears; they haunt me. I shed tears for pity,\nand shudder with horror.\"]\n\nThere was, some months ago at London, a malefactor who had been\ncondemned to be transported to America to work there at the sugar works\nwith the negroes. In England, any criminal, as in many other countries,\nmay get a petition presented to the king, either to obtain a free\npardon, or a mitigation of the sentence. This one presented a petition\nto be hanged, alleging that he mortally hated work, and that he had\nrather suffer strangling for a minute, than to make sugar all his\nlifetime.\n\nOthers may think otherwise, every one to his taste. But it has been\nalready said, and cannot be too often repeated, that a man hanged is\ngood for nothing, and that punishments ought to be useful.\n\nSome years ago, in Turkey, two young men were condemned to be impaled,\nfor having, (without taking off their caps,) stood to see the procession\nof the Lama pass by. The Emperor of China, who is a man of very good\nsense, said, that for his part, he should have condemned them to walk\nbareheaded, in every public procession, for three months afterwards.\n\n\"Proportion punishments to crimes,\" says the Marquis Beccaria; but those\nwho made the laws were not geometricians.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nI hate the laws of Draco, which punish equally crimes and faults,\nwickedness and folly. Let us,--especially in all litigations,--in all\ndissensions, in all quarrels,--distinguish the aggressor from the party\noffended, the oppressor from the oppressed. An offensive war is the\nprocedure of a tyrant; he who defends himself is in the character of a\njust man.\n\nAs I was absorbed in these reflections, the Man of Forty Crowns came to\nme all in tears. I asked, with emotion, if his son, who was by right to\nlive twenty-three years, was dead?\n\n\"No,\" said he, \"the little one is very well, and so is my wife; but I\nwas summoned to give evidence against a miller, who has been put to the\ntorture, ordinary and extraordinary, and who has been found innocent. I\nsaw him faint away under redoubled tortures. I heard the crash of his\nbones. His outcries and screams of agony are not yet out of my ears;\nthey haunt me. I shed tears for pity, and shudder with horror.\"\n\nHis tears drew mine. I trembled, too, like him; for I have naturally an\nextreme sensibility.\n\nMy memory then represented to me the dreadful fate of the Calas family!\nA virtuous mother in irons,--her children in tears, and forced to fly,\nher house given up to pillage,--a respectable father of a family broken\nwith torture, agonizing on a wheel, and expiring in the flames; a son\nloaded with chains, and dragged before the judges, one of whom said to\nhim:\n\n_\"We have just now broken your father on the wheel; we will break you\nalive too.\"_\n\nI remembered the family of Sirven, who one of my friends met with among\nthe mountains covered with ice, as they were flying from the persecution\nof a judge as ignorant as he was unjust. This judge (he told me) had\ncondemned an innocent family to death on a supposition, without the\nleast shadow of proof, that the father and mother, assisted by two of\ntheir daughters, had cut the throat of the third, and drowned her\nbesides, for going to mass. I saw in judgments of this kind, at once an\nexcess of stupidity, of injustice, and of barbarity.\n\nThe Man of Forty Crowns joined with me in pitying human nature. I had in\nmy pocket the discourse of an attorney-general of Dauphiny, which turned\nupon very important matters. I read to him the following passages:\n\n\"Certainly those must have been truly great men, who, at first, dared to\ntake upon themselves the office of governing their fellow creatures, and\nto set their shoulders to the burthen of the public welfare; who, for\nthe sake of the good they meant to do to men, exposed themselves to\ntheir ingratitude, and for the public repose renounced their own; who\nmade themselves, as one may say, middle-men between their\nfellow-creatures and Providence, to compose for them, by artifice, a\nhappiness which Providence seems otherwise to have refused to them by\nany other means.\n\n\"What magistrate, was ever so careless of his responsibilities and\nduties to humanity as to entertain such ideas? Could he, in the solitude\nof his closet, without shuddering with horror and pity, cast his eyes on\nthose papers, the unfortunate monuments of gilt or of innocence? Should\nhe not think he hears a plaintive voice and groans issue from those\nfatal writings, and press him to decide the destiny of a subject, of a\nhusband, of a father, or of a whole family? What judge can be so\nunmerciful (if he is charged with but one single process) as to pass in\ncold blood before the door of a prison? Is it I (must he say to himself)\nwho detain in that execrable place my fellow-creature, perhaps my\ncountryman, one of humankind, in short? Is it I that confine him every\nday,--that shut those execrable doors upon him? Perhaps despair will\nhave seized him. He sends up to heaven my name loaded with his curses;\nand doubtless calls to witness against me that great Judge of the world,\nwho observes us, and will judge us both.\"\n\n\"Here a dreadful sight presents itself on a sudden to my eyes: The\njudge, tired with interrogating bywords, has recourse to interrogation\nby tortures. Impatient in his inquiries and researches, and perhaps\nirritated at their inutility, he has brought to him torches, chains,\nlevers, and all those instruments invented for producing pain. An\nexecutioner comes to interpose in the functions of the magistracy, and\nterminates by violence a judicial interrogation.\n\n\"Gentle philosophy! Thou who never seekest truth but with attention and\npatience, couldst thou expect, in an age that takes thy name, that such\ninstruments would be employed to discover that truth?\n\n\"Can it be really true, that our laws approve this inconceivable method,\nand that custom consecrates it?\n\n\"Their laws imitate their prejudices; their public punishments are as\ncruel as their private vengeance; and the acts of their reason are\nscarce less unmerciful than those of their passions. What can be the\ncause of this strange contrariety? It is because our prejudices are\nancient, and our morality new; it is because we are as penetrated with\nour opinions as we are inattentive to our ideas; it is because our\npassion for pleasures hinders us from reflecting on our wants, and that\nwe are more eager to live than to direct ourselves right; it is, in a\nword, because our morals are gentle without being good; it is because we\nare polite, and are not so much as humane.\"\n\nThese fragments, which eloquence had dictated to humanity, filled the\nheart of my friend with a sweet consolation. He admired with tenderness.\n\n\"What!\" said he, \"are such masterpieces as these produced in a province?\nI had been told that Paris was all the world, or the only place in it.\"\n\n\"It is,\" said I, \"the only place for producing comic operas; but there\nare at this time, in the provinces, magistrates who think, with the same\nvirtue and express themselves with the same force. Formerly, the oracles\nof justice, like those of morality, were nothing but matter of mere\nridicule. Dr. Balordo declaimed at the bar, and Harlequin in the pulpit.\nPhilosophy has at length come, and has said, 'Do not speak in public,\nunless to set forth new and useful truths, with the eloquence of\nsentiment and of reason.'\"\n\nBut, say the praters, if we have nothing new to say, what then? Why,\nhold your tongues, replies philosophy. All those vain discourses for\nparade, that contain nothing but phrases, are like the fire on the eve\nof St. John's, kindled on that day of the year in which there is the\nleast want of it to heat one's self--it causes no pleasure, and not so\nmuch as the ashes of it remain.\n\nLet all France read good books. But notwithstanding all the progress of\nthe human understanding, there are few that read; and among those who\nsometimes seek instruction, the reading for the most part is very ill\nchosen. My neighbors, men and women, pass their time, after dinner, at\nplaying an English game, which I have much difficulty to pronounce,\nsince they call it whist. Many good citizens, many thick heads, who take\nthemselves for good heads, tell you, with an air of importance, that\nbooks are good for nothing. But, Messieurs, the critics, do not you know\nthat you are governed only by books? Do not you know that the statutes,\nthe military code, and the gospel, are books on which you continually\ndepend? Read; improve yourselves. It is reading alone that invigorates\nthe understanding; conversation dissipates it; play contracts it.\n\nThus it was that the Man of Forty Crowns proceeded to form, as one may\nsay, his head and his heart. He not only succeeded to the inheritance of\nhis two fair cousins, but he came also to a fortune left by a very\ndistant relation, who had been a sub-farmer of the military hospitals,\nwhere he had fattened himself on the strict abstinence to which he had\nput the wounded soldiers. This man never would marry, he never would own\nany of his relations. He lived in the height of debauchery, and died at\nParis of a surfeit. He was, as any one may see, a very useful member of\nthe state.\n\nOur new philosopher was obliged to go to Paris to get possession of the\ninheritance of this relative. At first, the farmers of the domain\ndisputed it with him. He had the good luck, however, to gain his cause,\nand the generosity to give to the poor of his neighborhood, who had not\ntheir contingent of forty crowns a year, a part of the spoils of the\ndeceased son of fortune. After which he set himself about satisfying his\npassion for having a library.\n\nHe read every morning and made extracts. In the evening, he consulted\nthe learned to know in what language the serpent had talked to our good\nmother; whether the soul is in the callous body, or in the pineal gland;\nwhether St. Peter lived five and twenty years at Rome; what specific\ndifference there is between a throne and a dominion; and why the negroes\nhave a flat nose. He proposed to himself, besides, never to govern the\nstate, nor to write any pamphlets against new dramatic pieces. He was\ncalled Mr. Andrew, which was his Christian name. Those who have known\nhim, do justice to his modesty and to his qualities, both natural and\nacquired.\n\n\n\n\nIX.\n\nA GREAT QUARREL.\n\n\nDuring the stay of Mr. Andrew at Paris, there happened a very important\nquarrel. The point was, to decide whether Marcus Antoninus was an honest\nman, and whether he was in hell, or in purgatory, or in limbo, waiting\ntill the day of resurrection. All the men of sense took the part of\nMarcus Antoninus. They said: Antoninus has been always just, temperate,\nchaste, and beneficent. It is true, he has not so good a place in\nparadise as St. Anthony; for proportions ought to be observed, as has\nbeen before recommended. But certainly the soul of Antoninus is not\nroasting on a spit in hell. If he is in purgatory, he ought to be\ndelivered out of it; there need only be masses said for him. Let the\nJesuits, who have no longer anything to do, say three thousand masses\nfor the repose of the soul of Marcus Antoninus. Putting each mass at\nfifteen pence, they will get two thousand two hundred and fifty livres\nby it. Besides, some respect is owing to a crowned head. He should not\nbe lightly damned.\n\nThe party opposed to these good people pretended, on the contrary, that\nno compounding for salvation ought to be allowed to Marcus Antoninus;\nthat he was a heretic; that the Carpocratians and the Alcgi were not so\nbad as he; that he had died without confession; that it was necessary to\nmake an example; that it was right to damn him, if but to teach better\nmanners to the emperors of China and Japan,--to those of Persia, Turkey,\nand Morocco,--to the kings of England, Sweden, Denmark, and Prussia, to\nthe stadtholder of Holland,--to the avoyers of the Canton of Berne, who\nno more go to confession than did the Emperor Marcus Antoninus; that, in\nshort, there is an unspeakable pleasure in passing sentence against a\ndead sovereign, which one could not fulminate against him in his\nlifetime, for fear of losing one's ears.\n\nThis quarrel became as furious as was formerly that of the Ursulines and\nthe Annonciades. In short, it was feared that it would come to a schism,\nas in the time of the hundred and one Mother Goose's tales, and of\ncertain bills payable to the bearer in the other world. To be sure, a\nschism is something very terrible. The meaning of the word is a division\nin opinion, and till this fatal moment all men had been agreed to think\nthe same thing.\n\nMr. Andrew, who was an excellent member of society, invited the chiefs\nof the two parties to sup with him. He is one of the best companions\nthat we have. His humor is gentle and lively; his gaiety is not noisy;\nhe is open, frank, and easy. He has not that sort of wit which seems to\naim at stifling that of others. The authority which he conciliates to\nhimself is due to nothing but his graceful manner, to his moderation,\nand to a round good-natured face, which is quite persuasive. He could\nhave brought to sup cheerfully together a Corsican and a Genoese,--a\nrepresentative of Geneva and a negative man, the mufti and an\narchbishop. He managed so dextrously, as to make the first stroke that\nthe disputants of both parties aimed at each other fall to the ground,\nby turning off the discourse, and by telling a very diverting tale,\nwhich pleased equally the damning and the damned. In short, when they\nhad got a little good-humored and elevated with wine, he made them sign\nan agreement, that the soul of Marcus Antoninus should remain in _status\nquo_--that is to say, nobody knows where,--till the day of final\njudgment.\n\nThe souls of the doctors of divinity returned quietly to their limbos\nafter supper, and all was calm. This adjustment of the quarrel did great\nhonor to the Man of Forty Crowns; and, since then, whenever any very\npeevish virulent dispute arose among men of letters, or among men not of\nletters, the advice given was, \"_Gentlemen, go and sup at Master\nAndrew's!_\"\n\n\n\n\nX.\n\nA RASCAL REPULSED.\n\n\nThe reputation which Mr. Andrew had acquired for pacifying quarrels,--by\ngiving good suppers,--drew upon him last week a singular visit. A dark\ncomplexioned man, shabbily enough dressed, rather crook-backed, with his\nhead leaning toward one shoulder, a haggard eye, and dirty hands, asked\nto be invited to a supper with his enemies.\n\n\"Who are your enemies?\" said Mr. Andrew, \"and who are you?\"\n\n\"Alas, sir,\" said he, \"I am forced to confess that I am taken for one of\nthose wretches that compose libels to get bread, and who are forever\ncrying out,--'Religion,--Religion,--Religion,' in order to come at some\nlittle benefice. I am accused of having caluminated some of the most\ntruly religious subjects, the most sincere adorers of divinity, and the\nmost honest men of the kingdom. It is true, sir, that in the heat of\ncomposition, there often fall from the pen of those of my trade, certain\nlittle inadvertencies or slips, which are taken for gross errors; and\nsome liberties taken with the truth, which are termed impudent lies. Our\nzeal is looked upon in the light of a horrid mixture of villainy and\nfanaticism. It has been alleged, that while we are insnaring the easy\nfaith of some silly old women, we are the scorn and execration of all\nthe men of worth who can read.\n\n\"My enemies are the principal members of the most illustrious academies\nof Europe, writers much esteemed, and beneficent members of society. I\nhave but just published a book under the title of _Anti-philosophical_.\nI had nothing but the best intentions, and yet no one would buy my book.\nThose to whom I made presents of it, threw it into the fire, telling me\nit was not only anti-reasonable, but anti-christian, and extremely\nanti-decent.\"\n\n\"Well, then!\" said Mr. Andrew to him, \"follow the example of those to\nwhom you presented your libel, throw it into the fire, and let no more\nbe said of it. It is unnecessary to ask you to sup with men of wit, who\ncan never be your enemies, since they will never read you.\"\n\n\"Could not you, sir, at least,\" said the hypocrite to him, \"reconcile me\nwith the relations of the deceased Monsieur de Montesquieu, to whose\nmemory I offered an indignity, that I might give honor and glory to the\nreverend father Rout.\"\n\n\"Zounds!\" said Mr. Andrew, \"the reverend father Rout has been dead this\nlong time; go and sup with him.\"\n\n\n\n\nXI.\n\nTHE GOOD SENSE OF MR. ANDREW.\n\n\nBut how greatly did the sense of Mr. Andrew improve in vigor from the\ntime he procured a library! He lives with books as with men, and is\ncareful in his choice of them. What a pleasure it is to gain\ninstruction, to enlarge one's mind by studying the best works of the\ngreatest authors.\n\nHe congratulates himself on being born at a time when human reason is\ntending toward perfection. \"How unhappy should I have been,\" he used to\nsay, \"if the age I live in had been that in which they used to condemn\nto the galleys those who wrote against the categories of Aristotle.\"\n\nDistress had weakened the springs of Mr. Andrew's soul; but good fortune\nrestored their elasticity. There are many Andrews in the world to whom\nnothing is wanting but a turn of the wheel of fortune to make of them\nmen of true merit. He is now well acquainted with all the affairs of\nEurope, and especially with the progress of the human understanding.\n\nHe recently remarked to me, that Reason travels by slow journeys from\nnorth to south, in company with her two intimate friends, Experience and\nToleration. Agriculture and Commerce attend them. When Reason presented\nherself in Italy, the congregation of the Index sternly repulsed her.\nAll she could do, was to secretly send some of her agents, who, in spite\nof her enemies, do some good. Let but some years more pass, and it is to\nbe hoped that the country of the Scipios will no longer be that of\nharlequins in monks' habits.\n\nShe has sometimes met with cruel foes in France; but she has now so many\nfriends in that kingdom, that she stands a good chance of at length\nbecoming first minister there.\n\nWhen she presented herself in Bavaria and Austria, she found two or\nthree great wig-blocks that stared at her with stupid and astonished\neyes. Their greeting was: \"Madam, we never heard of you; we do not know\nyou.\" Her answer to which was: \"Gentlemen, in time you will come to know\nme, and to love me. I have been well received at Berlin, at Moscow, at\nCopenhagen, at Stockholm. It is long ago that I have been naturalized by\nAct of Parliament in England, through the labors of Locke, Gordon,\nTrenchard, Lord Shaftsbury, and a number of others of the same nation.\nYou will, some day or other, confer on me the like grant. I am the\ndaughter of Time. I expect every thing from my father.\"\n\nWhen she passed over the frontiers of Spain and Portugal, she blessed\nGod on observing that the fires of the Inquisition were less frequently\nkindled. She rejoiced on seeing the Jesuits expelled; but was afraid\nthat, while the country had been cleared of the foxes, it was still left\nexposed to the ravages of wolves.\n\nIf she makes any fresh attempts to gain entrance into Italy it is\nthought she will begin by establishing herself at Venice; and that she\nwill take up her abode in the kingdom of Naples, in spite of the\nliquefaction of the saint's blood in that country, which awakens in her\nmind mournful reflections on human credulity. It is pretended, that she\nhas an infallible secret for untying the strings of a crown, which are\nentangled, nobody knows how, in those of a mitre.\n\n\n\n\nXII.\n\nThe GOOD SUPPER AT MR. ANDREW'S.\n\n\nWe supped at Mr. Andrew's yesterday, together with a Doctor Sorbonne,\nwith Monsieur Pinto, the celebrated Jew, with the Chaplain of the\nProtestant chapel of the Dutch Embassador, the secretary of the Prince\nGalitzin of the Greek church, a Calvinist Swiss Captain, two\nphilosophers, and three Ladies of great wit.\n\nThe supper was a very long one; and yet, so polite it must be owned we\nare grown--so much is one afraid at supper to give any cause of offence\nto one's brethren, that there was no more disputing upon religion than\nas if not one of those at table had ever had any. It is not so with the\nRegent Coge, and the ex-Jesuit Patouillet, and with all the animals of\nthat kind. Those pitiful creatures will say more stupidly abusive things\nin one pamphlet of two pages, than the best company in Paris can say\nagreeable and instructive ones in a supper of four hours. And what is\nstranger yet, they dare not tell a man to his face, what they have the\nimpudence to print.\n\nThe conversation turned at first on a piece of pleasantry in the Persian\nLetters, in which it is repeated, after a number of grave personages,\nthat the world is not only growing worse, but that it is becoming\ndepopulated, so that if the proverb should have any truth in it, that\n\"the more fools there are,\" \"the more laughter,\" laughing is likely to\nbe soon banished from the face of the earth.\n\nThe Doctor of Sorbonne assured us that, in fact, the world was almost\nreduced to nothing. He quoted the Father Petavius, who demonstrates that\nin less than three hundred years, the descendants of one of the sons of\nNoah (I forget whether it was Shem or Japhet), amounted to six hundred\nand twelve millions three hundred and fifty-eight thousand true\nbelievers within two hundred and eighty-five years after the universal\ndeluge.\n\nMr. Andrew asked, why in the time of Philip de Bel, that is to say,\nabout three hundred years after Hugh Capet, there were not six hundred\nand twenty-three thousand millions of princes of the royal family?\n\n\"It is,\" said the Doctor of Sorbonne, \"because the stock of faith has\ngreatly decreased.\"\n\nA great deal was said about Thebes and its hundred gates, and of the\nmillion of soldiers that issued out of those gates with the twenty\nthousand chariots of war.\n\n\"Shut the book there,\" said Mr. Andrew. \"Since I have taken to reading,\nI beg to suspect that the same genius that wrote Garagantua, used of\nyore to write all the histories.\"\n\n\"But, in short,\" said one of the company, \"Thebes, Memphis, Babylon,\nNineveh, Troy, Seleucia, were great cities once, and now no longer\nexist.\"\n\n\"Granted,\" answered the secretary of the Prince Galitzin; \"but Moscow,\nConstantinople, London, Paris, Amsterdam, Lyons, (which is better than\never Troy was,) and all the towns of France, Germany, Spain, and the\nNorth, were then deserts.\"\n\nThe Swiss captain, a gentleman of great knowledge, owned to us, that\nwhen his ancestors took it into their heads to quit their mountains and\ntheir precipices, to go and take forcible possession, as was but\nreasonable, of a finer country, C\u00e6sar, who saw with his own eyes the\nlist of those emigrants, found that their number amounted to three\nhundred and sixty-eight thousand, inclusive of the old, the children,\nand the women. At this time, the single canton of Berne possesses as\nmany inhabitants, which is not quite the half of Switzerland, and I can\nassure you, that the thirteen cantons have above seven hundred and\ntwenty thousand souls, including the natives who are serving or carrying\non business in other countries. From such data, gentlemen of learning\nmake absurd calculations, and they base fallacious systems on no better\nfooting.\n\nThe question next agitated was, whether the citizens of Rome, in the\ntime of the C\u00e6sars, were richer than the citizens of Paris, in the time\nof Monsieur Silhouette?\n\n\"Oh,\" says Mr. Andrew, \"this is a point on which I have some call to\nspeak. I was a long time the Man of Forty Crowns; but I conceive that\nthe citizens of Rome had more. Those illustrious robbers on the highway\npillaged the finest countries of Asia, of Africa, and of Europe. They\nlived splendidly on the produce of their rapines; but yet there were\ndoubtless some beggars at Rome. I am persuaded that, among those\nconquerors of the world, there were some reduced to an income of forty\nCrowns a year, as I formerly was.\"\n\n\"Do you know,\" said a learned member of the Academy of Inscriptions and\nBelles Lettres, \"that it cost Lucullus for every supper he gave in the\nsaloon of Apollo, thirty-nine thousand three hundred and twelve livres\nof our money; but that the celebrated epicurean Atticus did not expend\nabove two hundred and thirty livres a month for his table.\"\n\n\"If that be true,\" said I, \"he deserved to be president of the\nMiser-society, lately established in Italy. I have read, as you have\ndone, in Florus, that incredible anecdote; but, perhaps Florus had never\nsupped with Atticus, or else his text, like so many others, has been\ncorrupted by copyists. No Florus shall ever make me believe that the\nfriend of C\u00e6sar and of Pompey, of Cicero and of Antony, all of whom were\noften entertained at his house, got off for something less than ten\nLouis d'ors a month. _But thus exactly 'tis that history is written._\"\n\nMadam Andrew, for her part, told the learned member of the Academy, that\nif he would keep her table for ten times as much, she would be greatly\nobliged to him.\n\nI am persuaded, that this evening at Mr. Andrew's cost him as much as\nthe monthly expense of Atticus. As for the ladies, they expressed a\ndoubt whether the suppers of Rome were more agreeable than those of\nParis. The conversation was very gay, though leaning a little to the\nlearned. There was no talk of new fashions, nor of the ridiculous part\nof any one's character or conduct, nor of the scandalous history of the\nday.\n\nThe question upon luxury was discussed and searched to the bottom. It\nwas mooted whether or not luxury had been the ruin of the Roman empire;\nand it was proved that the two empires of the east and west owed their\ndestruction to nothing but to religious controversies, and to the monks;\nand, in fact, when Alaric took Rome, its whole attention was engrossed\nby theological disputes; when Mahomet took Constantinople, the monks\ndefended much better the eternity of the light of Mount Thabor, which\nthey saw on their navel,[1] than they defended the town against the\nTurks.\n\nOne of our men of learning made a very significant remark. It was that\nthose two great empires were annihilated, but that the works of Virgil,\nHorace, and Ovid still exist.\n\nFrom the age of Augustus, they made but one skip to the age of Louis the\nXIVth. A lady put the question, why it was that with a great deal of wit\nthere was no longer produced scarcely any work of genius?\n\nMr. Andrew answered, that it was because such works had been produced in\nthe last age. This idea was fine spun, and yet solidly true. It bore a\nthorough handling. After that, they fell with some harshness upon a\nScotchman, who had taken it into his head to give rules to taste, and to\ncriticise the most admirable passages of Racine, without understanding\nFrench. But there was one Denina still more severely treated. He had\nabused Montesquieu's _Spirit of Laws_, without comprehending him, and\nhad especially censured what is the most liked and approved in that\nwork.\n\nThis recalled to my mind Boileau's making a parade of his affected\ncontempt of Tasso. One of the company advanced that Tasso, with all his\nfaults, was as superior to Homer, as Montesquieu, with his still greater\nimperfections, was above the farrago of Grotius. But there was presently\na strong opposition made to these false criticisms, dictated by national\nhatred and prejudice. The Seignior Denina was treated as he deserved,\nand as pedants ought to be by men of wit.\n\nIt was especially remarked, with much sagacity, that the greatest part\nof the literary works of this age, as well as of the conversations,\nturned on the examination of the masterpieces of the last century; in\nwhich we are like disinherited children, who are taking an estimate of\ntheir father's estate. It was confessed that philosophy had made great\nprogress, but that the language and style was somewhat corrupted.\n\nIt is the nature of all these conversations, to make transitions from\none subject to another. All these objects of curiosity, of science, and\nof taste, soon vanished, to give way to the great scene which the\nEmpress of Russia, and the King of Poland, were giving to the world.\nThey had been just raising up and restoring the rights of oppressed\nhumanity, and establishing liberty of conscience in a part of the globe\nof a much greater extent than the old Roman Empire. This service done\nto human kind, this example given to so many courts, was mentioned with\nthe applause it deserved. Healths were drank to the philosophical\nempress, to the royal philosopher, and to the philosophical primate,\nwith the wish of their having many imitators. Even the doctors of\nSorbonne admired them; for there are some persons of good sense in that\nbody, as there were formerly some men of wit among the B\u0153otians.\n\nThe Russian secretary astonished us with a recital of the great\nestablishments they were forming in Russia. It was asked, why people\nwere in general more fond of reading the history of Charles the XIIth,\nwho passed his life in destroying, than that of Peter the Great, who\nconsumed his in creating? On this we concluded, that weakness and a\nfrivolous turn of mind are the causes of this preference; that Charles\nthe XIIth was the Don Quixote, and Peter the Solon of the North; that\nsuperficial understandings prefer a wild extravagant heroism, to the\ngreat views of a legislator: that the particulars of the foundation of a\ntown are less pleasing to them, than the rashness of a man, who, at the\nhead of only his domestics, braves an army of ten thousand Turks; and\nthat, in short, most readers love amusement better than instruction.\nThence it is, that a hundred women read _The Thousand and One Arabian\nNights_, for one that reads two chapters of Locke.\n\nWhat was not talked of at this supper? of which I shall long retain the\nremembrance. It was also in course to say a word of the actors and\nactresses, that eternal subject of the table-talk of Versailles and of\nParis. It was agreed, that a good declaimer was as rare as a good poet.\nFor my part, I must own that Plato's banquet could not have given me\nmore pleasure than that of Monsieur and Madame Andrew.\n\nOur very pretty gentlemen, and our very fine ladies, would, doubtless,\nhave found it dull, and been tired with it. They pretend to be the only\ngood company: but neither Mr. Andrew nor I ever willingly sup with that\nkind of good company.\n\n\n[1] See Gibbon's _History of Christianity_, page 777, for an account of\nthe monks of Mount Athos, who adored the divine light, as above\nstated.--E.\n\n\n[Illustration: The Priory entrance]\n\n\n\n\nTHE HURON; OR, PUPIL OF NATURE.[1]\n\n\n\n\nI.\n\nTHE HURON ARRIVES IN FRANCE.\n\n\nOne day, Saint Dunstan, an Irishman by nation, and a saint by trade,\nleft Ireland on a small mountain, which took its route toward the coast\nof France, and set his saintship down in the bay of St. Malo. When he\nhad dismounted, he gave his blessing to the mountain, which, after some\nprofound bows, took its leave, and returned to its former place.\n\nHere St. Dunstan laid the foundation of a small priory, and gave it the\nname of the Priory Mountain, which it still keeps, as every body knows.\n\nIn the year 1689, the fifteenth day of July, in the evening, the abbot\nKerkabon, prior of our Lady of the Mountain, happened to take the air\nalong the shore with Miss Kerkabon, his sister. The prior, who was\nbecoming aged, was a very good clergyman, beloved by his neighbors. What\nadded most to the respect that was paid him, was, that among all his\nclerical neighbors, he was the only one that could walk to his bed after\nsupper. He was tolerably read in theology; and when he was tired of\nreading St. Augustin, he refreshed himself with Rabelais. All the world\nspoke well of him.\n\nMiss Kerkabon, who had never been married, notwithstanding her hearty\nwishes so to be, had preserved a freshness of complexion in her\nforty-fifth year. Her character was that of a good and sensible woman.\nShe was fond of pleasure, and was a devotee.\n\nAs they were walking, the prior, looking on the sea, said to his sister:\n\n\"It was here, alas! that our poor brother embarked with our dear\nsister-in-law, Madam Kerkabon, his wife, on board the frigate 'Swallow,'\nin 1669, to serve the king in Canada. Had he not been killed, probably\nhe would have written to us.\"\n\n\"Do you believe,\" says Miss Kerkabon, \"that our sister-in-law has been\neaten by the Cherokees, as we have been told?\"\n\n\"Certain it is, had she not been killed, she would have come back. I\nshall weep for her all my lifetime. She was a charming woman; and our\nbrother, who had a great deal of wit, would no doubt have made a\nfortune.\"\n\nThus were they going on with mutual tenderness, when they beheld a small\nvessel enter the bay of Rence with the tide. It was from England, and\ncame to sell provisions. The crew leaped on shore without looking at the\nprior or Miss, his sister, who were shocked at the little attention\nshown them.\n\nThat was not the behavior of a well-made youth, who, darting himself\nover the heads of his companions, stood on a sudden before Miss\nKerkabon. Being unaccustomed to bowing, he made her a sign with his\nhead. His figure and his dress attracted the notice of brother and\nsister. His head was uncovered, and his legs bare. Instead of shoes, he\nwore a kind of sandals. From his head his long hair flowed in tresses, A\nsmall close doublet displayed the beauty of his shape. He had a sweet\nand martial air.[2] In one hand he held a small bottle of Barbadoes\nwater, and in the other a bag, in which he had a goblet, and some sea\nbiscuit. He spoke French very intelligibly. He offered some of his\nBarbadoes to Miss Kerkabon and her brother. He drank with them, he made\nthem drink a second time, and all this with an air of such native\nsimplicity, that quite charmed brother and sister. They offered him\ntheir service, and asked him who he was, and whither going? The young\nman answered: That he knew not where he should go; that he had some\ncuriosity; that he had a desire to see the coast of France; that he had\nseen it, and should return.\n\nThe prior, judging by his accent that he was not an Englishman, took the\nliberty of asking of what country he was.\n\n\"I am a Huron,\" answered the youth.\n\nMiss Kerkabon, amazed and enchanted to see a Huron who had behaved so\npolitely to her, begged the young man's company to supper. He complied\nimmediately, and all three went together to the priory of our Lady of\nthe Mountain. This short and round Miss devoured him with her little\neyes, and said from time to time to her brother:\n\n\"This tall lad has a complexion of lilies and roses. What a fine skin he\nhas for a Huron!\"\n\n\"Very true, sister,\" says the prior.\n\nShe put a hundred questions, one after another, and the traveler\nanswered always pertinently.\n\nThe report was soon spread that there was a Huron at the priory. All the\ngenteel company of the country came to supper. The abbot of St. Yves\ncame with Miss, his sister, a fine, handsome, well-educated girl. The\nbailiff, the tax-gatherer, and their wives, came all together. The\nforeigner was seated between Miss Kerkabon and Miss St. Yves. The\ncompany eyed him with admiration. They all questioned him together.\nThis did not confound the Huron. He seemed to have taken Lord\nBolingbroke's motto, _Nil admirari_. But at last, tired out with so much\nnoise, he told them in a sweet, but serious tone:\n\n\"Gentlemen, in my country one talks after another. How can I answer you,\nif you will not allow me to hear you?\"\n\nReasoning always brings people to a momentary reflection. They were all\nsilent.\n\nMr. Bailiff, who always made a property of a foreigner wherever he found\nhim, and who was the first man for asking questions in the province,\nopening a mouth of large size, began:\n\n\"Sir, what is your name?\"\n\n\"I have always been called the _Ingenu_,\" answered the Huron; \"and the\nEnglish have confirmed that name, because I always speak as I think, and\nact as I like.\"\n\n\"But, being born a Huron, how could you come to England?\"\n\n\"I have been carried thither. I was made prisoner by the English after\nsome resistance, and the English, who love brave people, because they\nare as brave and honest as we, proposed to me, either to return to my\nfamily, or go with them to England. I accepted the latter, having\nnaturally a relish for traveling.\"\n\n\"But, sir,\" says the bailiff, with his usual gravity, \"how could you\nthink of abandoning father and mother?\"\n\n\"Because I never knew either father or mother,\" says the foreigner.\n\nThis moved the company; they all repeated:\n\n\"Neither father nor mother!\"\n\n\"We will be in their stead,\" says the mistress of the house, to her\nbrother, the prior: \"How interesting this Huron gentleman is!\"\n\nThe _Ingenu_ thanked her with a noble and proud cordiality, and gave her\nto understand, that he wanted the assistance of nobody.\n\n\"I perceive, Mr. Huron,\" said the huge bailiff, \"that you talk better\nFrench than can be expected from an Indian.\"\n\n\"A Frenchman,\" answered he, \"whom they had made prisoner when I was a\nboy, and with whom I contracted a great friendship, taught it me. I\nrapidly learn what I like to learn. When I came to Plymouth, I met with\none of your French refugees, whom you, I know not why, call Huguenots.\nHe improved my knowledge of your language; and as soon as I could\nexpress myself intelligibly, I came to see your country, because I like\nthe French well enough, if they do not put too many questions.\"\n\nNotwithstanding this candid remark, the abb\u00e9 of St. Yves asked him,\nwhich of the three languages pleased him best, the Huron, English, or\nFrench?\n\n\"The Huron, to be sure,\" answered the _Ingenu_.\n\n\"Is it possible?\" cried Miss Kerkabon. \"I always thought the French was\nthe first of all languages, after that of Low Britany.\"\n\nThen all were eager to know how, in Huron, they asked for snuff? He\nreplied:\n\n\"_Taya_.\"\n\n\"What signifies to eat?\"\n\n\"_Essenten_.\"\n\nMiss Kerkabon was impatient to know how they called, to make love?\n\nHe informed her, _Trovander_; and insisted on it, not without reason,\nthat these words were well worth their synonyms in French and English.\n_Trovander_, especially, seemed very pretty to all the company. The\nprior, who had in his library a Huron grammar, which had been given him\nby the Rev. Father Sagar Theodat, a Recollet and famous missionary, rose\nfrom the table to consult it. He returned quite panting with tenderness\nand joy. He acknowledged the foreigner for a true Huron. The company\nspeculated a little on the multiplicity of languages; and all agreed,\nthat had it not been for the unfortunate affair of the Tower of Babel,\nall the world would have spoken French.\n\nThe inquisitive bailiff, who till then had some suspicions of the\nforeigner, conceived the deepest respect for him. He spoke to him with\nmore civility than before, and the Huron took no notice of it.\n\nMiss St. Yves was very curious to know how people made love among the\nHurons.\n\n\"In performing great actions to please such as resemble you.\" All the\ncompany admired and applauded. Miss St. Yves blushed, and was extremely\nwell pleased. Miss Kerkabon blushed likewise, but was not so well\npleased. She was a little piqued that this gallantry was not addressed\nto her; but she was so good-natured, that her affection for the Huron\nwas not diminished at all. She asked him, with great complacency, how\nmany mistresses he had at home.\n\n\"Only one,\" answered the foreigner; \"Miss Abacaba, the good friend of my\ndear nurse. The reed is not straighter, nor is ermine whiter,--no lamb\nmeeker, no eagle fiercer, nor a stag swifter, than was my Abacaba. One\nday she pursued a hare not above fifty leagues from my habitation: a\nbase Algonquin, who dwells an hundred leagues further, took her hare\nfrom her. I was told of it; I ran thither, and with one stroke of my\nclub leveled him with the ground. I brought him to the feet of my\nmistress, bound hand and foot. Abacaba's parents were for burning him,\nbut I always had a disrelish for such scenes. I set him at liberty. I\nmade him my friend. Abacaba was so pleased with my conduct, that she\npreferred me to all her lovers. And she would have continued to love me,\nhad she not been devoured by a bear! I slew the bear, and wore his skin\na long while; but that has not comforted me.\"\n\nMiss St. Yves felt a secret pleasure at hearing that Abacaba had been\nhis only mistress, and that she was no more; yet she understood not the\ncause of her own pleasure. All eyes were riveted on the Huron, and he\nwas much applauded for delivering an Algonquin from the cruelty of his\ncountrymen.\n\nThe merciless bailiff had now grown so furious, that he even asked the\nHuron what religion he was of; whether he had chosen the English, the\nFrench, or that of the Huguenots?\n\n\"I am of my own religion,\" said he, \"just as you are of yours.\"\n\n\"Lord!\" cried Miss Kerkabon, \"I see already that those wretched English\nhave not once thought of baptizing him!\"\n\n\"Good heavens,\" said Miss St. Yves, \"how is it possible? How is it\npossible the Hurons should not be Roman Catholics? Have not those\nreverend fathers, the Jesuits, converted all the world?\"\n\nThe Huron assured her, that no true American had ever changed his\nopinion, and that there was not in their language a word to express\ninconstancy.\n\nThese last words extremely pleased Miss St. Yves.\n\n\"Oh! we'll baptize him, we'll baptize him,\" said Miss Kerkabon to the\nprior. \"You shall have that honor, my dear brother, and I will be his\ngod-mother. The Abbot St. Yves shall present him to the font. It will\nmake a fine appearance: it will be talked of all over Britany, and do us\nthe greatest honor.\"\n\nThe company were all of the same mind with the mistress of the house;\nthey all cried:\n\n\"We'll baptize him.\"\n\nThe Huron interrupted them by saying, that in England every one was\nallowed to live as he pleased. He rather showed some aversion to the\nproposal which was made, and could not help telling them, that the laws\nof the Hurons were to the full as good as those of Low Britany. He\nfinished with saying, that he should return the next day. The bottles\ngrew empty, and the company went to bed.\n\nAfter the Huron had been conducted to his room, they saw that he spread\nthe blankets on the floor, and laid himself down upon them in the finest\nattitude in the world.\n\n\n[1] _Le Huron_ was dramatized, under the name of _Civilization_, by Mr.\nJohn H. Wilkins, and successfully produced at the City of London\nTheatre, on Wednesday, November 10, 1852. Mr. James Anderson enacted the\npart of _Hercule, the Huron_, and added to his well-earned reputation by\nhis correct conception and representation of the Indian character.\n\nMr. James Wallack, Jr., afterward introduced the play to a New York\naudience at Burton's old Chambers Street Theatre, where it was also\nreceived with great favor. Unfortunately for dramatic literature, the\npromising young author of _Civilisation_ did not long survive his\nsuccess, but soon filled an early grave.--E.\n\n[2] In Mr. Wilkins's dramatic version of this romance, the Huron is\ndescribed as\n\n     \"A modell'd Hercules! Mien, stature, glance,\n      That are the blazons of the inner man,\n      And voice it to the stars! A hero born,\n      Whose air commands respect above a king's;\n      Bearing the stamp from the great mint of heaven,\n      And current to the world!\"--E.\n\n\n\n\n\nII.\n\nTHE HURON, CALLED THE INGENU, ACKNOWLEDGED BY HIS RELATIONS.\n\n\nThe _Ingenu_, according to custom, awoke with the sun, at the crowing of\nthe cock, which is called in England and Huronia, \"the trumpet of the\nday.\" He did not imitate what is styled good company, who languish in\nthe bed of indolence till the sun has performed half its daily journey,\nunable to sleep, but not disposed to rise, and lose so many precious\nhours in that doubtful state between life and death, and who\nnevertheless complain that life is too short.\n\nHe had already traversed two or three leagues, and killed fifteen brace\nof game with his rifle, when, upon his return, he found the prior of the\nLady of the Mountain, with his discreet sister, walking in their\nnightcaps in their little garden. He presented them with the spoils of\nhis morning labor, and taking from his bosom a kind of little talisman,\nwhich he constantly wore about his neck, he entreated them to accept of\nit as an acknowledgment for the kind reception they had given him.\n\n\"It is,\" said he, \"the most valuable thing I am possessed of. I have\nbeen assured that I shall always be happy whilst I carry this little toy\nabout me; and I give it you that you may be always happy.\"\n\nThe prior and Miss smiled with pity at the frankness of the _Ingenu_.\nThis present consisted of two little portraits, poorly executed, and\ntied together with a greasy string.\n\nMiss Kerkabon asked him, if there were any painters in Huronia?\n\n\"No,\" replied the _Ingenu_, \"I had this curiosity from my nurse. Her\nhusband had obtained it by conquest, in stripping some of the French of\nCanada, who had made war upon us. This is all I know of the matter.\"\n\nThe prior looked attentively upon these pictures, whilst he changed\ncolor; his hands trembled, and he seemed much affected.\n\n\"By our Lady of the Mountain,\" he cried out, \"I believe these to be the\nfaces of my brother, the captain, and his lady.\"\n\nMiss, after having consulted them with the like emotion, thought the\nsame. They were both struck with astonishment and joy blended with\ngrief. They both melted, they both wept, their hearts throbbed, and\nduring their disorder, the pictures were interchanged between them at\nleast twenty times in a second. They seemed to devour the Huron's\npictures with their eyes. They asked one after another, and even both at\nonce, at what time, in what place, and how these miniatures fell into\nthe hands of the nurse? They reckoned and computed the time from the\ncaptain's departure; they recollected having received notice that he had\npenetrated as far as the country of the Hurons; and from that time they\nhad never heard anything more of him.\n\nThe Huron had told them, that he had never known either father or\nmother. The prior, who was a man of sense, observed that he had a little\nbeard, and he knew very well that the Hurons never had any. His chin was\nsomewhat hairy; he was therefore the son of an European. My brother\nand sister-in-law were never seen after the expedition against the\nHurons, in 1669. My nephew must then have been nursing at the breast.\nThe Huron nurse has preserved his life, and been a mother to him. At\nlength, after an hundred questions and answers, the prior and his sister\nconcluded that the Huron was their own nephew. They embraced him, whilst\ntears streamed from their eyes: and the Huron laughed to think that an\nIndian should be nephew to a prior of Lower Britany.\n\n[Illustration: The Huron identified.--\"By our Lady of the Mountain,\" he\ncried out, \"I believe these to be the faces of my brother, the captain,\nand his lady.\"]\n\nAll the company went down stairs. Mr. de St. Yves, who was a great\nphysiognomist, compared the two pictures with the Huron's countenance.\nThey observed, very skillfully, that he had the mother's eyes, the\nforehead and nose of the late Captain Kerkabon, and the cheeks common to\nboth.\n\nMiss St. Yves, who had never seen either father or mother, was\nstrenuously of opinion, that the young man had a perfect resemblance of\nthem. They all admired Providence, and wondered at the strange events of\nthis world. In a word, they were so persuaded, so convinced of the birth\nof the Huron, that he himself consented to be the prior's nephew,\nsaying, that he would as soon have him for his uncle as another.\n\nThe prior went to return thanks in the church of our Lady of the\nMountain; whilst the Huron, with an air of indifference, amused himself\nwith drinking in the house.\n\nThe English who had brought him over, and who were ready to set sail,\ncame to tell him that it was time to depart.\n\n\"Probably,\" said he to them, \"you have not met with any of your uncles\nand aunts. I shall stay here. Go you back to Plymouth. I give you all my\nclothes, as I have no longer occasion for anything in this world, since\nI am the nephew of a prior.\"\n\nThe English set sail, without being at all concerned whether the Huron\nhad any relations or not in Lower Britany.\n\nAfter the uncle, the aunt, and the company had sung _Te Deum_; after the\nbailiff had once more overwhelmed the Huron with questions, after they\nhad exhausted all their astonishment, joy, and tenderness, the prior of\nthe Mountain and the Abb\u00e9 of St. Yves concluded that the Huron should be\nbaptized with all possible expedition. But the case was very different\nwith a tall robust Indian of twenty-two, and an infant who is\nregenerated without his knowing anything of the matter. It was necessary\nto instruct him, and this appeared difficult; for the Abb\u00e9 of St. Yves\nsupposed that a man who was not born in France, could not be endowed\nwith common sense.\n\nThe prior, indeed, observed to the company, that though, in fact, the\ningenious gentleman, his nephew, was not so fortunate as to be born in\nLower Britany, he was not, upon that account, any way deficient in\nsense; which might be concluded from all his answers; and that,\ndoubtless, nature had greatly favored him, as well on his father's as on\nhis mother's side?\n\nHe then was asked if he had ever read any books? He said, he had read\nRabelais translated into English, and some passages in Shakespeare,\nwhich he knew by heart; that these books belonged to the captain, on\nboard of whose ship he came from America to Plymouth; and that he was\nvery well pleased with them. The bailiff failed not to put many\nquestions to him concerning these books.\n\n\"I acknowledge,\" said the Huron, \"I thought, in reading them, I\nunderstood some things, but not the whole.\"\n\nThe Abb\u00e9 of St. Yves reflected upon this discourse, that it was in this\nmanner he had always read, and that most men read no other way.\n\n\"You have,\" said he, to the Huron, \"doubtless read the bible?\"\n\n\"Never, Mr. Abb\u00e9: it was not among the captain's books. I never heard it\nmentioned.\"\n\n\"This is the way with those cursed English,\" said Miss Kerkabon; \"they\nthink more of a play of Shakespeare's, a plum pudding, or a bottle of\nrum, than they do of the Pentateuch. For this reason they have never\nconverted any Indians in America. They are certainly cursed by God; and\nwe shall conquer Jamaica and Virginia from them in a very short time.\"\n\nBe this as it may, the most skillful tailor in all St. Malo was sent for\nto dress the Huron from head to foot. The company separated, and the\nbailiff went elsewhere to display his inquisitiveness. Miss St. Yves, in\nparting, returned several times to observe the young stranger, and made\nhim lower courtesies than ever she did any one in her life.\n\nThe bailiff, before he took his leave, presented to Miss St. Yves a\nstupid dolt of a son, just come from college; but she scarce looked at\nhim, so much was she taken up with the politeness of the Huron.\n\n\n\n\nIII.\n\nTHE HURON CONVERTED.\n\n\nThe prior finding that he was somewhat advanced in years, and that God\nhad sent him a nephew for his consolation, took it into his head that he\nwould resign his benefice in his favor, if he succeeded in baptizing him\nand of making him enter into orders.\n\nThe Huron had an excellent memory. A good constitution, inherited from\nhis ancestors of Lower Britany, strengthened by the climate of Canada,\nhad made his head so vigorous that when he was struck upon it he scarce\nfelt it; and when any thing was graven in it, nothing could efface it.\nNothing had ever escaped his memory. His conception was the more sure\nand lively, because his infancy had not been loaded with useless\nfooleries, which overwhelm ours. Things entered into his head without\nbeing clouded. The prior at length resolved to make him read the New\nTestament. The Huron devoured it with great pleasure; but not knowing at\nwhat time, or in what country all the adventures related in this book\nhad happened, he did not in the least doubt that the scene of action had\nbeen in Lower Britany; and he swore, that he would cut off Caiphas and\nPontius Pilate's ears, if ever he met those scoundrels.\n\nHis uncle, charmed with this good disposition, soon brought him to the\npoint. He applauded his zeal, but at the same time acquainted him that\nit was needless, as these people had been dead upwards of 1690 years.\nThe Huron soon got the whole book by heart. He sometimes proposed\ndifficulties that greatly embarrassed the prior. He was often obliged to\nconsult the Abb\u00e9 St. Yves, who, not knowing what to answer, brought a\nJesuit of Lower Britany to perfect the conversion of the Huron.\n\nGrace, at length, operated; and the Huron promised to become a\nChristian. He did not doubt but that the first step toward it was\ncircumcision.\n\n\"For,\" said he, \"I do not find in the book that was put into my hands a\nsingle person who was not circumcised. It is therefore evident, that I\nmust make a sacrifice to the Hebrew custom, and the sooner the better.\"\n\nHe sent for the surgeon of the village, and desired him to perform the\noperation. The surgeon, who had never performed such an operation,\nacquainted the family, who screamed out. The good Miss Kerkabon trembled\nlest her nephew, whom she knew to be resolute and expeditious, should\nperform the operation unskillfully himself; and that fatal consequences\nmight ensue.\n\nThe prior rectified the Huron's mistake, representing to him, that\ncircumcision was no longer in fashion; that baptism was much more gentle\nand salutary; that the law of grace was not like the law of rigor. The\nHuron, who had much good sense, and was well disposed, disputed, but\nsoon acknowledged his error, which seldom happens in Europe among\ndisputants. In a word, he promised to let himself be baptized whenever\nthey pleased.\n\nBut before baptism it was necessary that he should go to confession, and\nthis was the greatest difficulty to surmount. The Huron had still in his\npocket the book his uncle gave him. He did not there find that a single\napostle had ever been confessed, and this made him very restive. The\nprior silenced him, by showing him, in the epistle of St. James the\nMinor, these words: \"Confess your sins to one another.\" The Huron was\nmute, and confessed his sins to a Recollet. When he had done, he dragged\nthe Recollet from the confessional chair, and seizing him with a\nvigorous arm, placed himself in his seat, making the Recollet kneel\nbefore him:\n\n\"Come, my friend, it is said, 'we must confess our sins to one another;'\nI have related to you my sins, and you shall not stir till you recount\nyours.\"\n\nWhilst he said this, he fixed his great knee against his adversary's\nstomach. The Recollet roared and groaned, till he made the church\nre-echo. The noise brought people to his assistance, who found the\ncatechumen cuffing the monk in the name of St. James the Minor. The joy\ndiffused at the baptizing at once a Low-Breton, a Huron, and an\nEnglishman, surmounted all these singularities. There were even some\ntheologians of opinion that confession was not necessary, as baptism\nsupplied the place of every thing.\n\nThe Bishop of St. Malo was chosen for the ceremony, who flattered, as\nmay be believed, at baptizing a Huron, arrived in a pompous equipage,\nfollowed by his clergy. Miss St. Yves put on her best gown to bless God,\nand sent for a hair dresser from St. Malo's, to shine at the ceremony.\nThe inquisitive bailiff brought the whole country with him. The church\nwas magnificently ornamented. But when the Huron was summoned to attend\nthe baptismal font, he was not to be found.\n\nHis uncle and aunt sought for him every where. It was imagined that he\nhad gone a hunting, according to his usual custom. Every one present at\nthe festival, searched the neighboring woods and villages; but no\nintelligence could be obtained of the Huron. They began to fear he had\nreturned to England. Some remembered that he had said he was very fond\nof that country. The prior and his sister were persuaded that nobody was\nbaptized there, and were troubled for their nephew's soul. The bishop\nwas confounded, and ready to return home. The prior and the Abb\u00e9 St.\nYves were in despair. The bailiff interrogated all passengers with his\nusual gravity. Miss Kerkabon melted into tears. Miss St. Yves did not\nweep, but she vented such deep sighs, as seemed to testify her\nsacramental disposition. They were walking in this melancholy mood,\namong the willows and reeds upon the banks of the little river Rence,\nwhen they perceived, in the middle of the stream, a large figure,\ntolerably white, with its two arms across its breast. They screamed out,\nand ran away. But, curiosity being stronger than any other\nconsideration, they advanced softly amongst the reeds; and when they\nwere pretty certain they could not be seen, they were willing to descry\nwhat it was.\n\n\n\n\nIV.\n\nTHE HURON BAPTIZED.\n\n\nThe prior and the abb\u00e9 having run to the river side, they asked the\nHuron what he was doing?\n\n\"In faith,\" said he, \"gentlemen, I am waiting to be baptized. I have\nbeen an hour in the water, up to my neck, and I do not think it is civil\nto let me be quite exhausted.\"\n\n\"My dear nephew,\" said the prior to him, tenderly, \"this is not the way\nof being baptized in Lower Britany. Put on your clothes, and come with\nus.\"\n\nMiss St. Yves, listening to the discourse, said in a whisper to her\ncompanion:\n\n\"Miss, do you think he will put his clothes on in such a hurry?\"\n\nThe Huron, however, replied to the prior:\n\n\"You will not make me believe now as you did before. I have studied very\nwell since, and I am very certain there is no other kind of baptism. The\neunuch of Queen Candace was baptized in a rivulet. I defy you to show\nme, in the book you gave me, that people were ever baptized in any other\nway. I either will not be baptized at all, or the ceremony shall be\nperformed in the river.\"\n\nIt was in vain to remonstrate to him that customs were altered. He\nalways recurred to the eunuch of Queen Candace. And though Miss and his\naunt, who had observed him through the willows, were authorized to tell\nhim, that he had no right to quote such a man, they, nevertheless, said\nnothing;--so great was their discretion. The bishop came himself to\nspeak to him, which was a great thing; but he could not prevail. The\nHuron disputed with the bishop.\n\n\"Show me,\" said he, \"in the book my uncle gave me, one single man that\nwas not baptized in a river, and I will do whatever you please.\"\n\nHis aunt, in despair, had observed, that the first time her nephew\nbowed, he made a much lower bow to Miss St. Yves, than to any one in the\ncompany--that he had not even saluted the bishop with so much respect,\nblended with cordiality, as he did that agreeable young lady. She\nthought it advisable to apply to her in this great embarrassment. She\nearnestly entreated her to use her influence to engage the Huron to be\nbaptized according to the custom of Britany, thinking that her nephew\ncould never be a Christian if he persisted in being christened in the\nstream.\n\n[Illustration: The Huron baptized.--\"I have been an hour in the water,\nup to my neck, and I do not think it is civil to let me be quite\nexhausted.\"]\n\nMiss St. Yves blushed at the secret joy she felt in being appointed to\nexecute so important a commission. She modestly approached the Huron,\nand squeezing his hand in quite a noble manner, she said to him.\n\n\"What, will you do nothing to please me?\"\n\nAnd in uttering these words, she raised her eyes from a downcast look,\ninto a graceful tenderness.\n\n\"Oh! yes, Miss, every thing you require, all that you command, whether\nit is to be baptized in water, fire, or blood;--there is nothing I can\nrefuse you.\"\n\nMiss St. Yves had the glory of effecting, in two words, what neither the\nimportunities of the prior, the repeated interrogations of the bailiff,\nnor the reasoning of the bishop, could effect. She was sensible of her\ntriumph; but she was not yet sensible of its utmost latitude.\n\nBaptism was administered, and received with all the decency,\nmagnificence, and propriety possible. His uncle and aunt yielded to the\nAbb\u00e9 St. Yves and his sister the favor of supporting the Huron upon the\nfont. Miss St. Yves's eyes sparkled with joy at being a god-mother. She\nwas ignorant how much this high title compromised her. She accepted the\nhonor, without being acquainted with its fatal consequences.\n\nAs there never was any ceremony that was not followed by a good dinner,\nthe company took their seats at table after the christening. The\nhumorists of Lower Britany said, \"they did not choose to have their wine\nbaptized.\" The prior said, \"that wine, according to Solomon, cherished\nthe heart of man.\" The bishop added, \"that the Patriarch Judah ought to\nhave tied his ass-colt to the vine, and steeped his cloak in the blood\nof the grape; and that he was sorry the same could not be done in Lower\nBritany, to which God had not allotted vines.\" Every one endeavored to\nsay a good thing upon the Huron's christening, and strokes of gallantry\nto the god-mother. The bailiff, ever interrogating, asked the Huron, \"if\nhe was faithful in keeping his promises?\"\n\n\"How,\" said he, \"can I fail keeping them, since I have deposited them in\nthe hands of Miss St. Yves?\"\n\nThe Huron grew warm; he had drank repeatedly his god-mother's health.\n\n\"If,\" said he, \"I had been baptized with your hand, I feel that the\nwater which was poured on the nape of my neck would have burnt me.\"\n\nThe bailiff thought that this was too poetical, being ignorant that\nallegory is a familiar figure in Canada. But his god-mother was very\nwell pleased.\n\nThe Huron had, at his baptism, received the name of Hercules. The bishop\nof St. Malo frequently enquired, who was this tutelar saint, whom he had\nnever heard mentioned before? The Jesuit, who was very learned, told\nhim, \"that he was a saint who had wrought twelve miracles.\" There was a\nthirteenth, which was well worth the other twelve, but it was not proper\nfor a Jesuit to mention it. This was the marriage of fifty girls at one\ntime--the daughters of king Thespius. A wag, who was present, related\nthis miracle very feelingly. And all judged, from the appearance of the\nHuron, that he was a worthy representative of the saint whose name he\nbore.\n\n\n\n\nV.\n\nTHE HURON IN LOVE.\n\n\nIt must be acknowledged, that from the time of this christening and this\ndinner, Miss St. Yves passionately wished that the bishop would again\nmake her an assistant with Mr. Hercules in some other fine\nceremony--that is, the marriage ceremony. However, as she was well\nbrought up, and very modest,--she did not entirely agree with herself in\nregard to these tender sentiments; but if a look, a word, a gesture, a\nthought, escaped from her, she concealed it admirably under the veil of\nmodesty. She was tender, lively, and sagacious.\n\nAs soon as the bishop was gone, the Huron and Miss St. Yves met\ntogether, without thinking they were in search of one another. They\nspoke together, without premeditating what they said. The sincere youth\nimmediately declared, \"that he loved her with all his heart; and that\nthe beauteous Abacaba, with whom he had been desperately in love in his\nown country, was far inferior to her.\" Miss replied, with her usual\nmodesty, \"that the prior, her uncle, and the lady, her aunt, should be\nspoken to immediately; and that, on her side, she would say a few words\nto her dear brother, the Abb\u00e9 of St. Yves, and that she flattered\nherself it would meet with no opposition.\"\n\nThe youth replied: \"that the consent of any one was entirely\nsuperfluous; that it appeared to him extremely ridiculous to go and ask\nothers what they were to do; that when two parties were agreed, there\nwas no occasion for a third, to accomplish their union.\"\n\n\"I never consult any one,\" said he, \"when I have a mind to breakfast, to\nhunt, or to sleep. I am sensible, that in love it is not amiss to have\nthe consent of the person whom we wish for; but as I am neither in love\nwith my uncle nor my aunt, I have no occasion to address myself to them\nin this affair; and if you will believe me, you may equally dispense\nwith the advice of the Abb\u00e9 of St. Yves.\"\n\nIt may be supposed that the young lady exerted all the delicacy of her\nwit, to bring her Huron to the terms of good breeding. She was very\nangry, but soon softened. In a word, it cannot be said how this\nconversation would have ended, if the declining day had not brought the\nAbb\u00e9 to conduct his sister home. The Huron left his uncle and aunt to\nrest, they being somewhat fatigued with the ceremony, and long dinner.\nHe passed part of the night in writing verses in the Huron language,\nupon his well-beloved; for it should be known, that there is no country\nwhere love has not rendered lovers poets.[1]\n\nThe next day his uncle spoke to him in the following manner. \"I am\nsomewhat advanced in years. My brother has left only a little bit of\nground, which is a very small matter. I have a good priory. If you will\nonly make yourself a sub-deacon, as I hope you will, I will resign my\npriory in your favor; and you will live quite at your ease, after\nhaving been the consolation of my old age.\"\n\nThe Huron replied:\n\n\"Uncle, much good may it do you; live as long as you can. I do not know\nwhat it is to be a sub-deacon, or what it is to resign, but every thing\nwill be agreeable to me, provided I have Miss St. Yves at my disposal.\"\n\n\"Good heavens, nephew! what is it you say? Do you love that beautiful\nyoung lady so earnestly?\"\n\n\"Yes, uncle.\"\n\n\"Alas! nephew, it is impossible you should ever marry her.\"\n\n\"It is very possible, uncle; for she did not only squeeze my hand when\nshe left me, but she promised she would ask me in marriage. I certainly\nshall wed her.\"\n\n\"It is impossible, I tell you, she is your god-mother. It is a dreadful\nsin for a god-mother to give her hand to her god-son. It is contrary to\nall laws, human and divine.\"\n\n\"Why the deuce, uncle, should it be forbidden to marry one's god-mother,\nwhen she is young and handsome? I did not find, in the book you gave me,\nthat it was wrong to marry young women who assisted at christenings. I\nperceive, every day, that an infinite number of things are done here\nwhich are not in your book, and nothing is done that is said in it. I\nmust acknowledge to you, that this astonishes and displeases me. If I am\ndeprived of the charming Miss St. Yves on account of my baptism, I give\nyou notice, that I will run away with her and unbaptize myself.\"\n\nThe prior was confounded; his sister wept.\n\n\"My dear brother,\" said she, \"our nephew must not damn himself; our holy\nfather the pope can give him a dispensation, and then he may be happy,\nin a christian-like manner, with the person he likes.\"\n\nThe ingenuous Hercules embraced his aunt:\n\n\"For goodness sake,\" said he, \"who is this charming man, who is so\ngracious as to promote the amours of girls and boys? I will go and speak\nto him this instant.\"\n\nThe dignity and character of the pope was explained to him, and the\nHuron was still more astonished than before.\n\n\"My dear uncle,\" said he, \"there is not a word of all this in your\nbook; I have traveled, and am acquainted with the sea; we are now upon\nthe coast of the ocean, and I must leave Miss St. Yves, to go and ask\nleave to marry her of a man who lives toward the Mediterranean, four\nhundred leagues from hence, and whose language I do not understand! This\nis most incomprehensibly ridiculous! But I will go first to the Abb\u00e9 St.\nYves, who lives only a league from hence; and I promise you I will wed\nmy mistress before night.\"\n\nWhilst he was yet speaking, the bailiff entered, and, according to his\nusual custom, asked him where he was going?\n\n\"I am going to get married,\" replied the ingenuous Hercules, running\nalong; and in less than a quarter of an hour he was with his charming\ndear mistress, who was still asleep.\n\n\"Ah! my dear brother,\" said Miss Kerkabon to the prior, \"you will never\nmake a sub-deacon of our nephew.\"\n\nThe bailiff was very much displeased at this journey; for he laid claim\nto Miss St. Yves in favor of his son, who was a still greater and more\ninsupportable fool than his father.\n\n\n[1] \"Love,\" says Robert G. Ingersoll, \"writes every poem, sings every\nsong, paints every picture, chisels every statue--makes kings and queens\nof common clay, and is the perfume of that wondrous flower, the human\nheart.\"--E.\n\n\n\n\nVI.\n\nTHE HURON FLIES TO HIS MISTRESS, AND BECOMES QUITE FURIOUS.\n\n\nNo sooner had the ingenuous Hercules reached the house, than having\nasked the old servant, which was his mistress's apartment, he forced\nopen the door, which was badly fastened, and flew toward the bed. Miss\nSt. Yves, startled out of her sleep, cried.\n\n\"Ah! what, is it you! Stop, what are you about?\" He answered:\n\n\"I am going to marry.\"\n\nShe opposed him with all the decency of a young lady so well educated;\nbut the Huron did not understand raillery, and found all evasions\nextremely disagreeable.\n\n\"Miss Abacaba, my first mistress,\" said he, \"did not behave in this\nmanner; you have no honesty; you promised me marriage, and you will not\nmarry; this is being deficient in the first laws of honor.\"\n\nThe outcries of the lady, brought the sagacious Abb\u00e9 de St. Yves with\nhis housekeeper, an old devotee servant, and the parish priest. The\nsight of these moderated the courage of the assailant.\n\n\"Good heavens!\" cried the Abb\u00e9, \"my dear neighbor, what are you about?\"\n\n\"My duty,\" replied the young man, \"I am fulfilling my promises, which\nare sacred.\"\n\nMiss St. Yves adjusted herself, not without blushing. The lover was\nconducted into another apartment. The Abb\u00e9 remonstrated to him on the\nenormity of his conduct. The Huron defended himself upon the privileges\nof the law of nature, which he understood perfectly well. The Abb\u00e9\nmaintained, that the law positive should be allowed all its advantages;\nand that without conventions agreed on between men, the law of nature\nmust almost constantly be nothing more than natural felony. Notaries,\npriests, witnesses, contracts, and dispensations, were absolutely\nnecessary.\n\nThe ingenuous Hercules made answer with the observation constantly\nadopted by savages:\n\n\"You are then very great rogues, since so many precautions are\nnecessary.\"\n\nThis remark somewhat disconcerted the Abb\u00e9.\n\n\"There are, I acknowledge, libertines and cheats among us, and there\nwould be as many among the Hurons, if they were united in a great city:\nbut, at the same time, we have direct, honest, enlightened people; and\nthese are the men who have framed the laws. The more upright we are, the\nmore readily we should submit to them, as we thereby set an example to\nthe vicious, who respect those bounds which virtue has given herself.\"\n\nThis answer struck the Huron. It has already been observed, that his\nmind was well disposed. He was softened by flattering speeches, which\npromised him hopes; all the world is caught in these snares; and Miss\nSt. Yves herself appeared, after having been at her toilet. Every thing\nwas now conducted with the utmost good breeding.\n\n[Illustration: The separation.]\n\nIt was with much difficulty that Hercules was sent back to his\nrelations. It was again necessary for the charming Miss St. Yves to\ninterfere; the more she perceived the influence she had upon him, the\nmore she loved him. She made him depart, and was much affected at it. At\nlength, when he was gone, the Abb\u00e9, who was not only Miss St. Yves's\nelder brother by many years, but was also her guardian, endeavored to\nwean his ward from the importunities of this dreadful lover. He went to\nconsult the bailiff, who had always intended his son for the Abb\u00e9's\nsister, and who advised him to place the poor girl in a convent. This\nwas a terrible stroke. Such a measure would, to a young lady unaffected\nwith any particular passion, have been inexpressible punishment; but to\na love-sick maid, equally sagacious and tender, it was despair itself.\n\nWhen the ingenuous Hercules returned to the Prior's, he related all that\nhad happened with his usual frankness. He met with the same\nremonstrances, which had some effect upon his mind, though none upon his\nsenses; but the next day, when he wanted to return to his mistress, in\norder to reason with her upon the law of nature and the law of\nconvention, the bailiff acquainted him, with insulting joy, that she was\nin a convent.\n\n\"Very well,\" said he, \"I'll go and reason with her in this convent.\"\n\nThat cannot be, said the bailiff; and then entered into a long\nexplanation of the nature of a convent, telling him that this word was\nderived from _conventus_, in the Latin, which signifies \"an assembly;\"\nand the Huron could not comprehend, why he might not be admitted into\nthis assembly. As soon as he was informed that this assembly was a kind\nof prison, in which girls were shut up, a shocking institution, unknown\nin Huronia and England; he became as furious as was his patron Hercules,\nwhen Euritus, king of \u0152chalia, no less cruel than the Abb\u00e9 of St.\nYves, refused him the beauteous Iola, his daughter, not inferior in\nbeauty to the Abb\u00e9's sister. He was upon the point of going to set fire\nto the convent to carry off his mistress, or be burnt with her. Miss\nKerkabon, terrified at such a declaration, gave up all hopes of ever\nseeing her nephew a sub-deacon; and, sadly weeping, she exclaimed: \"The\ndevil has certainly been in him since he has been christened.\"\n\n\n\n\nVII.\n\nTHE HURON REPULSES THE ENGLISH.\n\n\nThe ingenuous Hercules walked toward the sea-coast wrapped in deep and\ngloomy melancholy, with his double charged fusee upon his shoulder, and\nhis cutlass by his side, shooting now and then a bird, and often tempted\nto shoot himself; but he had still some affection for life, for the sake\nof his dear mistress; by turns execrating his uncle and aunt, all Lower\nBritany, and his christening; then blessing them, as they had introduced\nhim to the knowledge of her he loved. He resolved upon going to burn the\nconvent, and he stopped short for fear of burning his mistress. The\nwaves of the Channel are not more agitated by the easterly and westerly\nwinds, than was his heart by so many contrary emotions.\n\nHe was walking along very fast, without knowing whither he was going,\nwhen he heard the beat of a drum. He saw, at a great distance, a vast\nmultitude, part of whom ran toward the coast, and the other part in the\nopposite direction.\n\nA thousand shrieks re-echoed on every side. Curiosity and courage\nhurried him, that instant, toward the spot where the greatest clamor\narose, which he attained in a few leaps. The commander of the militia,\nwho had supped with him at the Prior's, knew him immediately, and he ran\nto the Huron with open arms:\n\n\"Ah! it is the sincere American: he will fight for us.\"\n\nUpon which the militia, who were almost dead with fear, recovered\nthemselves, crying with one voice:\n\n\"It is the Huron, the ingenuous Huron.\"\n\n\"Gentlemen,\" said he, \"what is the matter? Why are you frightened? Have\nthey shut your mistresses up in convents?\"\n\nInstantly a thousand confused voices cried out:\n\n\"Do you not see the English, who are landing?\"\n\n\"Very well,\" replied the Huron, \"they are a brave people; they never\nproposed making me a sub-deacon; they never carried off my mistress.\"\n\nThe commander made him understand, that they were coming to pillage the\nAbb\u00e9 of the Mountain, drink his uncle's wine, and perhaps carry off\nMiss St. Yves; that the little vessel which set him on shore in Britany\nhad come only to reconnoitre the coast; that they were committing acts\nof hostility, without having declared war against France; and that the\nprovince was entirely exposed to them.\n\n\"If this he the case,\" said he, \"they violate the law of nature: let me\nalone; I lived a long time among them; I am acquainted with their\nlanguage, and I will speak to them. I cannot think they can have so\nwicked a design.\"\n\nDuring this conversation the English fleet approached; the Huron ran\ntoward it, and having jumped into a little boat, soon rowed to the\nAdmiral's ship, and having gone on board, asked \"whether it was true,\nthat they were come to ravage the coast, without having honestly\ndeclared war?\"\n\nThe Admiral and all his crew burst out into laughter, made him drink\nsome punch, and sent him back.\n\nThe ingenuous Hercules, piqued at this reception, thought of nothing\nelse but beating his old friends for his countrymen and the Prior. The\ngentlemen of the neighborhood ran from all quarters, and joined them;\nthey had some cannon, and he discharged them one after the other. The\nEnglish landed, and he flew toward them, when he killed three of them\nwith his own hand. He even wounded the Admiral, who had made a joke of\nhim. The entire militia were animated with his prowess. The English\nreturned to their ships, and went on board; and the whole coast\nre-echoed with the shouts of victory, \"Live the king! live the ingenuous\nHercules!\"\n\nEvery one ran to embrace him; every one strove to stop the bleeding of\nsome slight wounds he had received.\n\n\"Ah!\" said he, \"if Miss St. Yves were here, she would put on a plaster\nfor me.\"\n\nThe bailiff, who had hid himself in his cellar during the battle, came\nto pay his compliments like the rest. But he was greatly surprised, when\nhe heard the ingenuous Hercules say to a dozen young men, well disposed\nfor his service, who surrounded him:\n\n\"My friends, having delivered the Abb\u00e9 of the Mountain is nothing; we\nmust rescue a nymph.\"\n\nThe warm blood of these youths was fired at the expression. He was\nalready followed by crowds, who repaired to the convent. If the bailiff\nhad not immediately acquainted the commandant with their design, and he\nhad not sent a detachment after the joyous troop, the thing would have\nbeen done. The Huron was conducted back to his uncle and aunt, who\noverwhelmed him with tears and tenderness.\n\n\"I see very well,\" said his uncle, \"that you will never be either a\nsub-deacon or a prior; you will be an officer, and one still braver than\nmy brother the Captain, and probably as poor.\"\n\nMiss Kerkabon could not stop an incessant flood of tears, whilst she\nembraced him, saying, \"he will be killed too, like my brother; it were\nmuch better he were a sub-deacon.\"\n\nThe Huron had, during the battle, picked up a purse full of guineas,\nwhich the Admiral had probably lost. He did not doubt but that this\npurse would buy all Lower Britany, and, above all, make Miss St. Yves a\ngreat lady. Every one persuaded him to repair to Versailles, to receive\nthe recompense due to his services. The commandant, and the principal\nofficers, furnished him with certificates in abundance. The uncle and\naunt also approved of this journey. He was to be presented to the king\nwithout any difficulty. This alone would give him great weight in the\nprovince. These two good folks added to the English purse a considerable\npresent out of their savings. The Huron said to himself, \"When I see the\nking, I will ask Miss St. Yves of him in marriage, and certainly he will\nnot refuse me.\" He set out accordingly, amidst the acclamations of the\nwhole district, stifled with embraces, bathed in tears by his aunt,\nblessed by his uncle, and recommending himself to the charming Miss St.\nYves.\n\n\n\n\nVIII.\n\nTHE HURON GOES TO COURT. SUPS UPON THE ROAD WITH SOME HUGUENOTS.\n\n\nThe ingenuous Hercules took the Saumur road in the coach, because there\nwas at that time no other convenience. When he came to Saumur, he was\nastonished to find the city almost deserted, and to see several families\ngoing away. He was told, that half a dozen years before, Saumur\ncontained upwards of fifty thousand inhabitants, and that at present\nthere were not six thousand. He mentioned this at the inn, whilst at\nsupper. Several Protestants were at table; some complained bitterly,\nothers trembled with rage, others, weeping, said, _Nos dulcia linquimus\narva, nos patriam fugimus_. The Huron, who did not understand Latin, had\nthese words explained to him, which signified, \"We abandon our sweet\nfields;--We fly from our country.\"\n\n\"And why do you fly from your country, gentlemen?\"\n\n\"Because we must otherwise acknowledge the Pope.\"\n\n\"And why not acknowledge him? You have no god-mothers, then, that you\nwant to marry; for, I am told it is he that grants this permission.\"\n\n\"Ah! sir, this Pope says, that he is master of the domains of kings.\"\n\n\"But, gentlemen, what religion are you of?\"\n\n\"Why, sir, we are for the most part drapers and manufacturers.\"\n\n\"If the Pope, then, is not the master of your clothes and manufactures,\nyou do very well not to acknowledge him; but as to kings, it is their\nbusiness, and why do you trouble yourselves about it?\"\n\nHere a little black man took up the argument, and very learnedly set\nforth the grievances of the company. He talked of the revocation of the\nedict of Nantes with so much energy; he deplored, in so pathetic a\nmanner, the fate of fifty thousand fugitive families, and of fifty\nthousand others converted by dragoons; that the ingenuous Hercules could\nnot refrain from shedding tears.\n\n\"Whence arises it,\" said he, \"that so great a king, whose renown expands\nitself even to the Hurons, should thus deprive himself of so many hearts\nthat would have loved him, and so many arms that would have served him.\"\n\n\"Because he has been imposed upon, like other great kings,\" replied the\nlittle orator, \"He has been made to believe, that as soon as he utters a\nword, all people think as he does; and that he can make us change our\nreligion, just as his musician Lulli, in a moment, changes the\ndecorations of his opera. He has not only already lost five or six\nhundred thousand very useful subjects, but he has turned many of them\ninto enemies; and King William, who is at this time master of England,\nhas formed several regiments of these identical Frenchmen, who would\notherwise have fought for their monarch.\n\n\"Such a disaster is more astonishing, as the present Pope, to whom Louis\nXIV. sacrifices a part of his people, is his declared enemy. A violent\nquarrel has subsisted between them for nearly nine years. It has been\ncarried so far, that France was in hopes of at length casting off the\nyoke, by which it has been kept in subjection for so many ages to this\nforeigner, and, more particularly, of not giving him any more money,\nwhich is the _primum mobile_ of the affairs of this world. It,\ntherefore, appears evident, that this great king has been imposed on, as\nwell with respect to his interest, as the extent of his power, and that\neven the magnanimity of his heart has been struck at.\"\n\nThe Huron, becoming more and more interested, asked:\n\n\"Who were the Frenchmen who thus deceived a monarch so dear to the\nHurons?\"\n\n\"They are the Jesuits,\" he was answered, \"and, particularly, Father la\nChaise, the kings confessor. It is to be hoped that God will one day\npunish them for it, and that they will be driven out, as they now drive\nus. Can any misfortune equal ours? Mons. de Louvois besets us on all\nsides with Jesuits and dragoons.\"\n\n\"Well gentlemen,\" replied the Huron, \"I am going to Versailles to\nreceive the recompense due to my services; I will speak to Mons. de\nLouvois. I am told it is he who makes war from his closet. I shall see\nthe king, and I will acquaint him with the truth. It is impossible not\nto yield to this truth, when it is felt. I shall return very soon to\nmarry Miss St. Yves, and I beg you will be present at our nuptials.\"\n\nThese good people now took him for some great Lord, who traveled\n_incognito_ in the coach. Some took him for the king's fool.\n\nThere was at table a disguised Jesuit, who acted as a spy to the\nReverend Father de la Chaise. He gave him an account of everything that\npassed, and Father de la Chaise reported it to M. de Louvois. The spy\nwrote. The Huron and the letter arrived almost at the same time at\nVersailles.\n\n\n\n\nIX.\n\nTHE ARRIVAL OF THE HURON AT VERSAILLES. HIS RECEPTION AT COURT.\n\n\nThe ingenuous Hercules was set down from a public carriage, in the court\nof the kitchens. He asks the chairmen, what hour the king can be seen?\nThe chairmen laugh in his face, just as the English Admiral had done:\nand he treated them in the same manner--he beat them. They were for\nretaliation, and the scene had like to have proved bloody, if a soldier,\nwho was a gentleman of Britany, had not passed by, and who dispersed the\nmob.\n\n\"Sir,\" said the traveler to him, \"you appear to me to be a brave man. I\nam nephew to the Prior of our Lady of the Mountain. I have killed\nEnglishmen, and I am come to speak to the king. I beg you will conduct\nme to his chamber.\"\n\nThe soldier, delighted to find a man of courage from his province, who\ndid not seem acquainted with the customs of the court, told him it was\nnecessary to be presented to M. de Louvois.\n\n\"Very well, then, conduct me to M. de Louvois, who will doubtless\nconduct me to the king.\"\n\n\"It is more difficult to speak to M. de Louvois than the king. But I\nwill conduct you to Mr. Alexander, first commissioner of war, and this\nwill be just the same as if you spoke to the minister.\"\n\nThey accordingly repair to Mr. Alexander's, who is first clerk, but they\ncannot be introduced, he being closely engaged in business with a lady\nof the court, and no person is allowed admittance.\n\n\"Well,\" said the soldier, \"there is no harm done, let us go to Mr.\nAlexander's first clerk. This will be just the same as if you spoke to\nMr. Alexander himself.\"\n\nThe Huron quite astonished, followed him. They remained together half an\nhour in a little anti-chamber.\n\n\"What is all this?\" said the ingenuous Hercules. \"Is all the world\ninvisible in this country? It is much easier to fight in Lower Britany\nagainst Englishmen, than to meet with people at Versailles, with whom\none hath business.\"\n\nHe amused himself for some time with relating his amours to his\ncountryman; but the clock striking, recalled the soldier to his post,\nwhen a mutual promise was given of meeting on the morrow.\n\nThe Huron remained another half hour in the anti-chamber, meditating\nupon Miss St. Yves, and the difficulty of speaking to kings and first\nclerks.\n\nAt length the patron appeared.\n\n\"Sir,\" said the ingenuous Hercules, \"If I had waited to repulse the\nEnglish as long as you have made me wait for my audience, they would\ncertainly have ravaged all Lower Britany without opposition.\"\n\nThese words impressed the clerk. He at length said to the inhabitant of\nBritany, \"What is your request?\"\n\n\"A recompense,\" said the other: \"these are my titles;\" showing his\ncertificates.\n\nThe clerk read, and told him, \"that probably he might obtain leave to\npurchase a lieutenancy.\"\n\n\"Me? what, must I pay money for having repulsed the English? Must I pay\na tax to be killed for you, whilst you are peaceably giving your\naudience here? You are certainly jesting. I require a company of cavalry\nfor nothing. I require that the king shall set Miss St. Yves at liberty\nfrom the convent, and give her to me in marriage. I want to speak to the\nking in favor of fifty thousand families, whom I propose restoring to\nhim. In a word, I want to be useful. Let me be employed and advanced.\"\n\n\"What is your name, sir, who talk in such a high style?\"\n\n\"Oh! oh!\" answered the Huron; \"you have not then read my certificates?\nThis is the way they are treated. My name is _Hercules de Kerkabon_. I\nam christened, and I lodge at the Blue Dial.\" The clerk concluded, like\nthe people at Saumur, that his head was turned, and did not pay him any\nfurther attention.\n\nThe same day, the Reverend Father de la Chaise, confessor to Louis XIV.,\nreceived his spy's letter, which accused the Breton Kerkabon of favoring\nin his heart the Huguenots, and condemning the conduct of the Jesuits.\nM. de Louvois had, on his side, received a letter from the inquisitive\nbailiff, which depicted the Huron as a wicked, lewd fellow, inclined to\nburn convents, and carry off the nuns.\n\nHercules, after having walked in the gardens of Versailles, which had\nbecome irksome to him; after having supped like a native of Huronia and\nLower Britany: had gone to rest, in the pleasant hope of seeing the king\nthe next day; of obtaining Miss St. Yves in marriage; of having, at\nleast, a company of cavalry; and of setting aside the persecution\nagainst the Huguenots. He was rocking himself asleep with these\nflattering ideas, when the _Marechauss\u00e9e_ entered his chamber, and\nseized upon his double-charged fusee and his great sabre.\n\nThey took an inventory of his ready money, and then conducted him to the\ncastle erected by King Charles V., son to John II., near the street of\nSt. Antoine, at the gate des Tournelles.\n\nWhat was the Huron's astonishment in his way thither the reader is left\nto imagine. He at first fancied it was all a dream; and remained for\nsome time in a state of stupefaction. Presently, transported with rage,\nthat gave him more than common strength, he collared two of his\nconductors who were with him in the coach, flung them out of the door,\ncast himself after them, and then dragged the third, who wanted to hold\nhim. He fell in the attempt, when they tied him, and replaced him in the\ncarriage.\n\n\"This, then,\" said he, \"is what one gets for driving the English out of\nLower Britany! What wouldst thou say, charming Miss St. Yves, if thou\ndidst see me in this situation?\"\n\nThey at length arrived at the place of their destination. He was carried\nwithout any noise into the chamber in which he was to be locked up, like\na dead corpse going to the grave. This room was already occupied by an\nold solitary student of Port Royal, named Gordon, who had been\nlanguishing here for two years.\n\n\"See,\" said the chief of the Marechauss\u00e9e, \"here is company I bring\nyou;\" and immediately the enormous bolts of this strong door, secured\nwith large iron bars, were fastened upon them. These two captives were\nthus separated from all the universe besides.\n\n\n\n\nX.\n\nTHE HURON IS SHUT UP IN THE BASTILE WITH A JANSENIST.\n\n\nMr. Gordon was a healthy old man, of a serene disposition, who was\nacquainted with two great things; the one was, to bear adversity; the\nother, to console the afflicted. He approached his companion with an\nopen sympathizing air, and said to him, whilst he embraced him:\n\n\"Whoever thou art that is come to partake of my grave, be assured, that\nI shall constantly forget myself to soften thy torments in the infernal\nabyss where we are plunged. Let us adore Providence that has conducted\nus here. Let us suffer in peace, and trust in hope.\"\n\nThese words had the same effect upon the youth as cordial drops, which\nrecall a dying person to life, and show to his astonished eyes a glimpse\nof light.\n\nAfter the first compliments were over, Gordon, without urging him to\nrelate the cause of his misfortune, inspired him by the sweetness of his\ndiscourse and by that interest which two unfortunate persons share with\neach other, with a desire of opening his heart and of disburdening\nhimself of the weight which oppressed him; but he could not guess the\ncause of his misfortune, and the good man Gordon was as much astonished\nas himself.\n\n\"God must, doubtless,\" said the Jansenist to the Huron, \"have great\ndesigns upon you, since he conducted you from Lake Ontario into England,\nfrom thence to France; caused you to be baptized in Lower Britany, and\nhas now lodged you here for your salvation.\"\n\n\"I' faith,\" replied Hercules, \"I believe the devil alone has interfered\nin my destiny.[1] My countrymen in America would never have treated me\nwith the barbarity that I have here experienced; they have not the least\nidea of it. They are called savages;--they are good people, but rustic,\nand the men of this country are refined villains. I am indeed, greatly\nsurprised to have come from another world, to be shut up in this, under\nfour bolts with a priest; but I consider what an infinite number of men\nset out from one hemisphere to go and get killed in the other, or are\ncast away in the voyage, and are eaten by the fishes. I cannot discover\nthe gracious designs of God over all these people.\"\n\nTheir dinner was brought them through a wicket. The conversation turned\nupon Providence, _lettres de cachet_, and upon the art of not sinking\nunder disgrace, to which all men in this world are exposed.\n\n\"It is now two years since I have been here,\" said the old man, \"without\nany other consolation than myself and books; and yet I have never been a\nsingle moment out of temper.\"\n\n\"Ah! Mr. Gordon,\" cried Hercules, \"you are not then in love with your\ngod-mother. If you were as well acquainted with Miss St. Yves as I am,\nyou would be in a state of desperation.\"\n\nAt these words he could not refrain from tears, which greatly relieved\nhim from his oppression.\n\n\"How is it then that tears solace us?\" said the Huron, \"It seems to me\nthat they should have quite an opposite effect.\"\n\n\"My son,\" said the good old man, \"every thing is physical about us; all\nsecretions are useful to the body, and all that comforts it, comforts\nthe soul. We are the machines of Providence.\"\n\nThe ingenuous Huron, who, as we have already observed more than once,\nhad a great share of understanding, entered deeply into the\nconsideration of this idea, the seeds whereof appeared to be in himself.\nAfter which he asked his companion.\n\n\"Why his machine had for two years been confined by four bolts?\"\n\n\"By effectual grace,\" answered Gordon; \"I pass for a Jansenist; I know\nArnaud and Nicole; the Jesuits have persecuted us. We believe that the\nPope is nothing more than a bishop, like another, and therefore Father\nla Chaise has obtained from the king, his penitent, an order for\nrobbing me without any form of justice, of the most precious inheritance\nof man--liberty!\"\n\n\"This is very strange,\" said the Huron, \"all the unhappy people I have\nmet with have been made so solely by the Pope. With respect to your\neffectual grace, I acknowledge I do not understand what you mean. But I\nconsider it as a very great favor, that God has let me, in my\nmisfortunes, meet with a man, who pours into my heart such consolation\nas I thought myself incapable of receiving.\"\n\nThe conversation became each day more interesting and instructive. The\nsouls of the two captives seemed to unite in one body. The old man had\nacquired knowledge, and the young man was willing to receive\ninstruction. At the end of the first month, he eagerly applied himself\nto the study of geometry. Gordon made him read _Rohault's Physics_,\nwhich book was still in fashion, and he had good sense enough to find in\nit nothing but doubts and uncertainties.\n\nHe afterward read the first volume of the _Enquiry After Truth_. This\ninstructive work gave him new light.\n\n\"What!\" said he, \"do our imagination and our senses deceive us to that\ndegree? What, are not our ideas formed by objects, and can we not\nacquire them by ourselves?\"\n\nWhen he had gone through the second volume, he was not so well\nsatisfied; and he concluded it was much easier to destroy than to build.\n\nHis colleague, astonished that a young ignoramus should make such a\nremark, conceived a very high opinion of his understanding, and was more\nstrongly attached to him.\n\n\"Your Malebranche,\" said he to Gordon one day, \"seems to have written\nhalf his book whilst he was in possession of his reason, and the other\nhalf with the assistance only of imagination and prejudice.\"\n\nSome days after, Gordon asked him what he thought of the soul, and the\nmanner in which we receive our ideas of volition, grace, and free\nagency.\n\n\"Nothing,\" replied the Huron. \"If I think sometimes, it is that we are\nunder the power of the Eternal Being, like the stars and the\nelements--that he operates everything in us--that we are small wheels of\nthe immense machine, of which he is the soul--that he acts according to\ngeneral laws, and not from particular views. This is all that appears to\nme intelligible; all the rest is to me a dark abyss.\"\n\n\"But this, my son, would be making God the author of sin!\"\n\n\"But, father, your effectual grace would equally make him the author of\nsin; for certainly all those to whom this grace was refused, would sin;\nand is not an all-powerful being who permits evil, virtually the author\nof evil?\"\n\nThis sincerity greatly embarrassed the good man; he found that all his\nendeavors to extricate himself from this quagmire were ineffectual; and\nhe heaped such quantities of words upon one another, which seemed to\nhave meaning, but which in fact had none, that the Huron could not help\npitying him. This question evidently determined the origin of good and\nevil; and poor Gordon was reduced to the necessity of recurring to\nPandora's box--Oromasdes's egg pierced by Arimanes--the enmity between\nTyphon and Osiris--and, at last, original sin; and these he huddled\ntogether in profound darkness, without their throwing the least\nglimmering light upon one another. However, this romance of the soul\ndiverted their thoughts from the contemplation of their own misery; and,\nby a strange magic, the multitude of calamities dispersed throughout the\nworld diminished the sensation of their own miseries. They did not dare\ncomplain when all mankind was in a state of sufferance.\n\nBut in the repose of night, the image of the charming Miss St. Yves\neffaced from the mind of her lover every metaphysical and moral idea. He\nawoke with his eyes bathed in tears; and the old Jansenist forgot his\neffectual grace, and the Abb\u00e9 of St. Cyran, and even Jansenius himself,\nto afford consolation to a youth whom he had judged guilty of a mortal\nsin.\n\nAfter these lectures and their reasonings were over, their adventures\nfurnished them with subjects of conversation; after this store was\nexhausted, they read together, or separately. The Huron's understanding\ndaily increased; and he would certainly have made great progress in\nmathematics, if the thought of Miss St. Yves had not frequently\ndistracted him.\n\nHe read histories, which made him melancholy. The world appeared to him\ntoo wicked and too miserable. In fact, history is nothing more than a\npicture of crimes and misfortunes. The crowd of innocent and peaceable\nmen are always invisible upon this vast theatre. The _dramatis person\u00e6_\nare composed of ambitious, perverse men. The pleasure which history\naffords is derived from the same source as tragedy, which would languish\nand become insipid, were it not inspired with strong passions, great\nevents, and piteous misfortunes. Clio must be armed with a poniard as\nwell as Melpomene.\n\nThough the history of France is not less filled with horror than those\nof other nations, it nevertheless appeared to him so disgusting in the\nbeginning, so dry in the continuation, and so trifling in the end, (even\nin the time of Henry IV.); ever destitute of grand monuments, or foreign\nto those fine discoveries which have illustrated other nations; that he\nwas obliged to resolve upon not being tired, in order to go through all\nthe particulars of obscure calamities confined to a little corner of the\nworld.\n\nGordon thought like him. They both laughed with pity when they read of\nthe sovereigns of Fezensacs, Fesansaguet, and Astrac: such a study could\nbe relished only by their heirs, if they had any. The brilliant ages of\nthe Roman Republic made him sometimes quite indifferent as to any other\npart of the globe. The spectacle of victorious Rome, the lawgiver of\nnations, engrossed his whole soul. He glowed in contemplating a people\nwho were governed for seven hundred years by the enthusiasm of liberty\nand glory.\n\nThus rolled days, weeks, and months; and he would have thought himself\nhappy in the sanctuary of despair, if he had not loved.\n\nThe natural goodness of his heart was softened still more when he\nreflected upon the Prior of our Lady of the Mountain, and the sensible\nKerkabon.\n\n\"What must they think,\" he would often repeat, \"when they can get no\ntidings of me? They must think me an ungrateful wretch.\" This idea\nrendered him inconsolable. He pitied those who loved him much more than\nhe pitied himself.\n\n\n[1] In the play called _Civilization_, Hercules uses the following\nlanguage:\n\n     \"In my barbarian days, I spoke the truth:\n      Wrong'd not my neighbor: paid back benefits,\n      With benefit and gratitude to boot;\n      Dealt justly: held a friend to be a gift,\n      Precious as stars dropt down from heaven: bowed\n      Before the works of God: beheld in them\n      His presence, palpable, as at an altar:\n      And worshipp'd heaven at the mountain's foot.\n                                          But this\n      Was Barbarism, I am wiser now;\n      More civilized. I know the way to lie,\n      To cheat, deceive, and be a zealous Christian!\"--E.\n\n\n\n\n\nXI.\n\nHOW THE HURON DISCLOSES HIS GENIUS.\n\n\nReading aggrandizes the soul, and an enlightened friend affords\nconsolation. Our captive had these two advantages in his favor which he\nhad never expected.\n\n\"I shall begin to believe in the Metamorphoses,\" said he, \"for I have\nbeen transformed from a brute into a man.\"\n\nHe formed a chosen library with part of the money which he was allowed\nto dispose of. His friend encouraged him to commit to writing such\nobservations as occurred to him. These are his notes upon ancient\nhistory:\n\n\"I imagine that nations were for a long time like myself; that they did\nnot become enlightened till very late; that for many ages they were\noccupied with nothing but the present moment which elapsed: that they\nthought very little of what was past, and never of the future. I have\ntraversed five or six hundred leagues in Canada, and I did not meet with\na single monument: no one is the least acquainted with the actions of\nhis predecessors. Is not this the natural state of man? The human\nspecies of this continent appears to me superior to that of the other.\nThey have extended their being for many ages by arts and knowledge. Is\nthis because they have beards upon their chins and God has refused this\nornament to the Americans? I do not believe it; for I find the Chinese\nhave very little beard, and that they have cultivated arts for upwards\nof five thousand years. In effect, if their annals go back upwards of\nfour thousand years, the nation must necessarily have been united and in\na flourishing state more than five hundred centuries.\n\n\"One thing particularly strikes me in this ancient history of China,\nwhich is, that almost every thing is probable and natural. I admire it\nbecause it is not tinctured with anything of the marvelous.\n\n\"Why have all other nations adopted fabulous origins? The ancient\nchronicles of the history of France, which, by the by, are not very\nancient, make the French descend from one Francus, the son of Hector.\nThe Romans said they were the issue of a Phrygian, though there was not\nin their whole language a single word that had the least connection\nwith the language of Phrygia. The gods had inhabited Egypt for ten\nthousand years, and the devils Scythia, where they had engendered the\nHuns. I meet with nothing before Thucydides but romances similar to the\nAmadis, and far less amusing. Apparitions, oracles, prodigies, sorcery,\nmetamorphoses, are interspersed throughout with the explanation of\ndreams, which are the bases of the destiny of the greatest empires and\nthe smallest states. Here are speaking beasts, there brutes that are\nadored, gods transformed into men, and men into gods. If we must have\nfables, let us, at least, have such as appear the emblem of truth. I\nadmire the fables of philosophers, but I laugh at those of children, and\nhate those of impostors.\"\n\nHe one day hit upon a history of the Emperor Justinian. It was there\nrelated, that some Appedeutes of Constantinople had delivered, in very\nbad Greek, an edict against the greatest captain of the age, because\nthis hero had uttered the following words in the warmth of conversation:\n\"Truth shines forth with its proper light, and people's minds are not\nillumined with flaming piles.\" The Appedeutes declared that this\nproposition was heretical, bordering upon heresy, and that the contrary\naction was catholic, universal, and Grecian: \"The minds of the people\nare enlightened but with flaming piles, and truth cannot shine forth\nwith its own light.\" These Linostolians thus condemned several\ndiscourses of the captain, and published an edict.\n\n\"What!\" said the Huron, with much emotion, \"shall such people publish\nedicts?\"\n\n\"They are not edicts,\" replied Gordon: \"they are contradictions, which\nall the world laughed at in Constantinople, and the Emperor the first.\nHe was a wise prince, who knew how to reduce the Linostolian Appedeutes\nto a state incapable of doing anything but good. He knew that these\ngentlemen, and several other Pastophores, had tired the patience of the\nEmperors, his predecessors, with contradictions in more serious\nmatters.\"\n\n\"He did quite right,\" said the Huron, \"the Pastophores should not be\nsupported, but constrained.\"\n\nHe committed several other observations to paper, which astonished old\nGordon. \"What,\" said he to himself, \"have I consumed fifty years in\ninstruction and not attained to the degree of natural good sense of this\nchild, who is almost a savage? I tremble to think I have so arduously\nstrengthened prejudices, and he listens to simple nature only.\"\n\nThe good man had some little books of criticism, some of those\nperiodical pamphlets wherein men, incapable of producing anything\nthemselves, blacken the productions of others; where a Vise insults a\nRacine, and a Faidit a F\u00e9nelon. The Huron ran over some of them. \"I\ncompare them,\" said he, \"to certain gnats that lodge their eggs in the\nnostrils of the finest horses, which do not, however, retard their\nspeed.\"\n\nThe two philosophers scarce deigned to cast their eyes upon these dregs\nof literature.\n\nThey soon after went through the elements of astronomy. The Huron sent\nfor some globes: he was ravished at this great spectacle.\n\n\"How hard it is,\" said he, \"that I should only begin to be acquainted\nwith heaven, when the power of contemplating it is ravished from me!\nJupiter and Saturn revolve in these immense spaces;--millions of suns\nillumine myriads of worlds; and, in this corner of the earth on which I\nam cast, there are beings that deprive me of seeing and studying those\nworlds to which my eye might reach, and even that in which God has\nplaced me. The light created for the whole universe is lost to me. It\nwas not hidden from me in the northern horizon, where I passed my\ninfancy and youth. Without you, my dear Gordon, I should be\nannihilated.\"\n\n\n\n\nXII.\n\nTHE HURON'S SENTIMENTS UPON THEATRICAL PIECES.\n\n\nThe young Huron resembled one of those vigorous trees, which,\nlanguishing in an ungrateful soil, extend in a little time their roots\nand branches when transplanted to a more favorable spot; and it was very\nextraordinary that this favorable spot should be a prison.\n\nAmong the books which employed the leisure of the two captives were some\npoems and also translations of Greek tragedies, and some dramatic\npieces in French. Those passages that dwelt on love communicated at once\npleasure and pain to the soul of the Huron. They were but so many images\nof his dear Miss St. Yves. The fable of the two pigeons rent his heart:\nfor he was far estranged from his tender dove.\n\nMoli\u00e8re enchanted him. He taught him the manners of Paris and of human\nnature.\n\n\"To which of his comedies do you give the preference?\"\n\n\"Doubtless to his _Tartuffe_.\"\n\n\"I am of your opinion,\" said Gordon; \"it was a Tartuffe that flung me\ninto this dungeon, and perhaps they were Tartuffes who have been the\ncause of your misfortunes.\"\n\n\"What do you think of these Greek tragedies?\"\n\n\"They are very good for Grecians.\"\n\nBut when he read the modern _Iphigenia, Ph\u00e6drus, Andromache_, and\n_Athalia_, he was in ecstacy, he sighed, he wept,--and he learned them\nby heart, without having any such intention.\n\n\"Read _Rodogune_,\" said Gordon; \"that is said to be a capital\nproduction; the other pieces which have given you so much pleasure, are\ntrifles compared to this.\"\n\nThe young man had scarce got through the first page, before he said,\n\"This is not written by the same author.\"\n\n\"How do you know it?\"\n\n\"I know nothing yet; but these lines neither touch my ear nor my heart.\"\n\n\"O!\" said Gordon, \"the versification does not signify.\" The Huron asked,\n\"What must I judge by then?\"\n\nAfter having read the piece very attentively without any other design\nthan being pleased, he looked steadfastly at his friend with much\nastonishment, not knowing what to say. At length, being urged to give\nhis opinion with respect to what he felt, this was the answer he made:\n\"I understood very little of the beginning; the middle disgusted me; but\nthe last scene greatly moved me, though there appears to me but little\nprobability in it. I have no prejudices for or against any one, but I do\nnot remember twenty lines, I, who recollect them all when they please\nme.\"\n\n\"This piece, nevertheless, passes for the best upon our stage.\"\n\n\"If that be the case,\" said he, \"it is perhaps like many people who are\nnot worthy of the places they hold. After all, this is a matter of\ntaste, and mine cannot yet be formed. I may be mistaken; but you know I\nam accustomed to say what I think or rather what I feel. I suspect that\nillusion, fashion, caprice, often warp the judgments of men.\"\n\nHere he repeated some lines from _Iphigenia_, which he was full of; and\nthough he declaimed but indifferently, he uttered them with such truth\nand emotion that he made the old Jansenist weep. He then read _Cinna_,\nwhich did not excite his tears, but his admiration.\n\n\n\n\nXIII.\n\nTHE BEAUTIFUL MISS ST. YVES GOES TO VERSAILLES.\n\n\nWhilst the unfortunate Hercules was more enlightened than consoled;\nwhilst his genius, so long stifled, unfolded itself with so much\nrapidity and strength; whilst nature, which was attaining a degree of\nperfection in him, avenged herself of the outrages of fortune; what\nbecame of the Prior, his good sister, and the beautiful recluse, Miss\nSt. Yves? The first month they were uneasy, and the third they were\nimmersed in sorrow. False conjectures, ill-grounded reports, alarmed\nthem. At the end of six months, it was concluded he was dead. At length,\nMr. and Miss Kerkabon learned, by a letter of ancient date, which one of\nthe king's guards had written to Britany, that a young man resembling\nthe Huron arrived one night at Versailles, but that since that time no\none had heard him spoken of.\n\n\"Alas,\" said Miss Kerkabon, \"our nephew has done some ridiculous thing,\nwhich has brought on some terrible consequences. He is young, a _Low\nBreton_, and cannot know how to behave at court. My dear brother, I\nnever saw Versailles nor Paris; here is a fine opportunity, and we shall\nperhaps find our poor nephew. He is our brother's son, and it is our\nduty to assist him. Who knows? we may perhaps at length prevail upon him\nto become a sub-deacon when the fire of youth is somewhat abated. He was\nmuch inclined to the sciences. Do you recollect how he reasoned upon\nthe Old and New Testaments? We are answerable for his soul. He was\nbaptized at our instigation. His dear mistress Miss St. Yves does\nnothing but weep incessantly. Indeed, we must go to Paris. If he is\nconcealed in any of those infamous houses of pleasure, which I have\noften heard of, we will get him out.\"\n\nThe Prior was affected at his sister's discourse. He went in search of\nthe Bishop of St. Malo's, who had baptized the Huron, and requested his\nprotection and advice. The Prelate approved of the journey. He gave the\nPrior letters of recommendation to Father la Chaise, the king's\nconfessor, who was invested with the first dignity in the kingdom; to\nHarlai, the Archbishop of Paris, and to Bossuet, Bishop of Meaux.\n\nAt length, the brother and sister set out; but when they came to Paris,\nthey found themselves bewildered in a great labyrinth without clue or\nend. Their fortune was but middling, and they had occasion every day for\ncarriages to pursue their discovery, which they could not accomplish.\n\nThe Prior waited upon the Reverend Father la Chaise; he was with\nMademoiselle du Tron, and could not give audience to Priors. He went to\nthe Archbishop's door: the Prelate was shut up with the beautiful\nMademoiselle de Lesdigui\u00e8res about church matters. He flew to the\ncountry house of the Bishop of Meaux: he was engaged in a close\nexamination with Mademoiselle de Mauleon, of the mystery relating to\nMademoiselle Guyon. At length, however, he gained access to these two\nprelates; they both declared they could not interfere with regard to his\nnephew, as he was not a sub-deacon.\n\nHe at length saw the Jesuit, who received him with open arms, protesting\nhe had always entertained the greatest private esteem for him, though he\nhad never known him. He swore that his society had always been attached\nto the inhabitants of Lower Britany.\n\n\"But,\" said he, \"has not your nephew the misfortune of being a\nHuguenot?\"\n\n\"No, certainly, Reverend Father.\"\n\n\"May he not be a Jansenist?\"\n\n\"I can assure your Reverence, that he is scarce a Christian. It is about\neleven months since he was christened.\"\n\n\"This is very well;--we will take care of him. Is your benefice\nconsiderable?\"\n\n\"No, a very trifle, and our nephew costs us a great deal.\"\n\n\"Are there any Jansenists in your neighborhood? Take great care, my dear\nMr. Prior, they are more dangerous than Huguenots, or even Atheists.\"\n\n\"My Reverend Father, we have none; it is not even known at our Lady of\nthe Mountain what Jansenism is.\"\n\n\"So much the better; go, there is nothing I will not do for you.\"\n\nHe dismissed the Prior in this affectionate manner, but thought no more\nabout him.\n\nTime slipped away, and the Prior and his good sister were almost in\ndespair.\n\nIn the meanwhile, the cursed bailiff urged very strenuously the marriage\nof his great booby son with the beautiful Miss St. Yves, who was taken\npurposely out of the convent. She always entertained a passion for her\ngod-son in proportion as she detested the husband who was designed for\nher. The insult that had been offered her, by shutting her up in a\nconvent, increased her affection; and the mandate for wedding the\nbailiff's son completed her antipathy for him. Chagrin, tenderness, and\nterror, racked her soul. Love, we know, is much more inventive and more\ndaring in a young woman than friendship in an aged Prior and an aunt\nupwards of forty-five. Besides, she had received good instructions in\nher convent with the assistance of romances, which she read by stealth.\n\nThe beautiful Miss St. Yves remembered the letter that had been sent by\none of the king's guards to Lower Britany, which had been spoken of in\nthe province. She resolved to go herself and gain information at\nVersailles; to throw herself at the minister's feet, if her husband\nshould be in prison as it was said, and obtain justice for him. I know\nnot what secret intelligence she had gained that at court nothing is\nrefused to a pretty woman; but she knew not the price of these boons.\n\nHaving taken this resolution, it afforded her some consolation; and she\nenjoyed some tranquillity without upraiding Providence with the severity\nof her lot. She receives her detested intended father-in-law, caresses\nher brother, and spreads happiness throughout the house. On the day\nappointed for the ceremony, she secretly departs at four o'clock in the\nmorning, with the little nuptial presents she has received, and all she\ncould gather. Her plan was so well laid, that she was about ten leagues\nupon her journey, when, about noon, her absence was discovered, and when\nevery one's consternation and surprise was inexpressible. The\ninquisitive bailiff asked more questions that day than he had done for a\nweek before; the intended bridegroom was more stupefied than ever. The\nAbb\u00e9 St. Yves resolved in his rage to pursue his sister. The bailiff and\nhis son were disposed to accompany him. Thus fate led almost the whole\ncanton of Lower Britany to Paris.\n\nThe beautiful Miss St. Yves was not without apprehensions that she\nshould be pursued. She rode on horseback, and she got all the\nintelligence she could from the couriers, without being suspected. She\nasked if they had not met a fat abb\u00e9, an enormous bailiff, and a young\nbooby, galloping as fast as they could to Paris. Having learned, on the\nthird day, that they were not far behind, she took quite a different\nroad, and was skillful and lucky enough to arrive at Versailles, whilst\nthey were in a fruitless pursuit after her, at Paris. But how was she to\nbehave at Versailles? Young, handsome, untutored, unsupported, unknown,\nexposed to every danger, how could she dare go in search of one of the\nking's guards? She had some thoughts of applying to a Jesuit of low\nrank, for there were some for every station of life; as God, they say,\nhas given different aliments to every species of animals. He had given\nthe king his confessor, who was called, by all solicitors of benefices,\nthe head of the Gallican Church. Then came the princes' confessors. The\nministers had none, they were not such dupes. There were Jesuits for the\ngenteel mob, and particularly those for chambermaids, by whom were known\nthe secrets of their mistresses; and this was no small vocation, the\nbeautiful Miss St. Yves addressed herself to one of these last, who was\ncalled _Father Tout-\u00e0-tous_ (all to every one). She confessed to him,\nset forth her adventure, her situation, her danger, and conjured him to\nget her a lodging with some good devotee, who might shelter her from\ntemptation.\n\n[Illustration: The Confessional.]\n\nFather _Tout-\u00e0-tous_ introduced her to the wife of the cup-bearer, one\nof his most trusty penitents. From the moment Miss St. Yves became her\nlodger, she did her utmost to obtain the confidence and friendship of\nthis penitent. She gained intelligence of the Breton-Guard, and invited\nhim to visit her. Having learned from him that her lover had been\ncarried off after having had a conference with one of the clerks, she\nflew to this clerk. The sight of a fine woman softened him, for it must\nbe allowed God created woman only to tame mankind.\n\nThe scribe, thus mollified, acknowledged to her every thing.\n\n\"Your lover has been in the bastile almost a year, and without your\nintercession he would, perhaps, have ended hid days there.\"\n\nThe tender Miss St. Yves swooned at this intelligence. When she had\nrecovered herself, her informer told her:\n\n\"I have no power to do good; all my influence extends to doing harm.\nTake my advice, wait upon M. de St. Pouange, who has the power of doing\nboth good and ill; he is Mons. de Louvois's cousin and favorite. This\nminister has two souls: the one is M. de St. Pouange, and Mademoiselle\nde Belle is the other, but she is at present absent from Versailles; so\nthat you have nothing to do but captivate the protector I have pointed\nout to you.\"\n\nThe beautiful Miss St. Yves, divided between some trifling joy and\nexcessive grief, between a glimmering of hope and dreadful\napprehensions,--pursued by her brother, idolizing her lover, wiping her\ntears, which flowed in torrents; trembling and feeble, yet summoning all\nher courage;--in this situation, she flew on the wings of love to M. de\nSt. Pouange's.\n\n\n\n\nXIV.\n\nRAPID PROGRESS OF THE HURON'S INTELLECT.\n\n\nThe ingenuous youth was making a rapid progress in the sciences, and\nparticularly in the science of man. The cause of this sudden disclosure\nof his understanding was as much owing to his savage education as to the\ndisposition of his soul; for, having learned nothing in his infancy, he\nhad not imbibed any prejudices. His mind, not having been warped by\nerror, had retained all its primitive rectitude. He saw things as they\nwere; whereas the ideas that are communicated to us in our infancy make\nus see them all our life in a false light.\n\n\"Your persecutors are very abominable wretches,\" said he to his friend\nGordon. \"I pity you for being oppressed, but I condemn you for being a\nJansenist. All sects appear to me to be founded in error. Tell me if\nthere be any sectaries in geometry?\"\n\n\"No, my child,\" said the good old Gordon, heaving a deep sigh; \"all men\nare agreed concerning truth when demonstrated, but they are too much\ndivided about latent truths.\"\n\n\"If there were but one single hidden truth in your load of arguments,\nwhich have been so often sifted for such a number of ages, it would\ndoubtless have been discovered, and the universe would certainly have\nbeen unanimous, at least, in that respect. If this truth had been as\nnecessary as the sun is to the earth, it would have been as brilliant as\nthat planet. It is an absurdity, an insult to human nature--it is an\nattack upon the Infinite and Supreme Being to say there is a truth\nessential to the happiness of man which God conceals.\"\n\nAll that this ignorant youth, instructed only by nature, said, made a\nvery deep impression upon the mind of the old unhappy scholiast.\n\n\"Is it really certain,\" he cried, \"that I should have made myself truly\nmiserable for mere chimeras? I am much more certain of my misery than of\neffectual grace. I have spent my time in reasoning about the liberty of\nGod and human nature, but I have lost my own. Neither St. Augustine nor\nSt. Prosner will extricate me from my present misfortunes.\"\n\nThe ingenuous Huron, who gave way to his natural instincts, at length\nsaid:\n\n\"Will you give me leave to speak to you boldly and frankly? Those who\nbring upon themselves persecution for such idle disputes seem to me to\nhave very little sense; those who persecute, appear to me very\nmonsters.\"\n\nThe two captives entirely coincided with respect to the injustice of\ntheir captivity.\n\n\"I am a hundred times more to be pitied than you,\" said the Huron; \"I am\nborn free as the air: I had two lives, liberty and the object of my\nlove; and I am deprived of both. We are both in fetters, without\nknowing who put them on us, or without being able to enquire. It is said\nthat the Hurons are barbarians, because they avenge themselves on their\nenemies; but they never oppress their friends. I had scarce set foot in\nFrance, before I shed my blood for this country. I have, perhaps,\npreserved a whole province, and my recompense is imprisonment. In this\ncountry men are condemned without being heard. This is not the case in\nEngland. Alas! it was not against the English that I should have\nfought.\"\n\nThus his growing philosophy could not brook nature being insulted in the\nfirst of her rights, and he gave vent to his just indignation.\n\nHis companion did not contradict him. Absence ever increases ungratified\nlove, and philosophy does not diminish it. He as frequently spoke of his\ndear Miss St. Yves, as he did of morality or metaphysics. The more he\npurified his sentiments, the more he loved. He read some new romances;\nbut he met with few that depicted to him the real state of his soul. He\nfelt that his heart stretched beyond the bounds of his author.\n\n\"Alas!\" said he, \"almost all these writers have nothing but wit and\nart.\"\n\nAt length, the good Jansenist priest became, insensibly, the confident\nof his tenderness. He was already acquainted with love as a sin with\nwhich a penitent accuses himself at confession. He now learned to know\nit as a sentiment equally noble and tender; which can elevate the soul\nas well as soften it, and can at times produce virtues. In fine, for the\nlast miracle, a Huron converted a Jansenist.\n\n\n\n\nXV.\n\nTHE BEAUTIFUL MISS ST. YVES VISITS M. DE ST. POUANGE.\n\n\nThe charming Miss St. Yves, still more afflicted than her lover, waited\naccordingly upon M. de St. Pouange, accompanied by her friend with whom\nshe lodged, each having their faces covered with their hoods. The first\nthing she saw at the door was the Abb\u00e9 St. Yves, her brother coming out.\nShe was terrified, but her friend supported her spirits.\n\n\"For the very reason,\" said she, \"that people have been speaking\nagainst you, speak to him for yourself. You may he assured, that the\naccusers in this part of the world are always in the right, unless they\nare immediately detected. Besides, your presence will have greater\neffect, or else I am much mistaken, than the words of your brother.\"\n\nEver so little encouragement to a passionate lover makes her intrepid.\nMiss St. Yves appears at the audience. Her youth, her charms, her\nlanguishing eyes, moistened with some involuntary tears, attract every\none's attention. Every sycophant to the deputy minister forgot for an\ninstant the idol of power to contemplate that of beauty. St. Pouange\nconducted her into a closet. She spoke with an affecting grace. St.\nPouange felt some emotion. She trembled, but he told her not to be\nafraid.\n\n\"Return to-night,\" said he; \"your business requires some reflection, and\nit must be discussed at leisure. There are too many people here at\npresent. Audiences are rapidly dispatched. I must get to the bottom of\nall that concerns you.\"\n\nHe then paid her some compliments upon her beauty and address, and\nadvised her to come at seven in the evening.\n\nShe did not fail attending at the hour appointed, and her pious friend\nagain accompanied her; but she remained in the hall, where she read the\n_Christian Pedagogue_, whilst St. Pouange and the beauteous Miss St.\nYves were in the back closet. He began by saying:\n\n\"Would you believe it, Miss, that your brother has been to request me to\ngrant him a _lettre de cachet_ against you; but, indeed, I would sooner\ngrant one to send him back to Lower Britany.\"\n\n\"Alas! sir,\" said she, \"_lettres de cachet_ are granted very liberally\nin your offices, since people come from the extremity of the kingdom to\nsolicit them like pensions. I am very far from requesting one against my\nbrother, yet I have much reason to complain of him. But I respect the\nliberty of mankind; and, therefore, supplicate for that of a man whom I\nwant to make my husband; of a man to whom the king is indebted for the\npreservation of a province; who can beneficially serve him; and who is\nthe son of an officer killed in his service. Of what is he accused? How\ncould he be treated so cruelly without being heard?\"\n\nThe deputy minister then showed her the letter of the spy Jesuit, and\nthat of the perfidious bailiff.\n\n\"What!\" said she with astonishment, \"are there such monsters upon earth?\nand would they force me to marry the stupid son of a ridiculous, wicked\nman? and is it upon such evidence that the fate of citizens is\ndetermined?\"\n\nShe threw herself upon her knees, and with a flood of tears solicited\nthe freedom of a brave man who adored her. Her charms appeared to the\ngreatest advantage in such a situation. She was so beautiful, that St.\nPouange, bereft of all shame, used words with some reserve, which\nbrought on others less delicate, which were succeeded by those still\nmore expressive. The revocation of the _lettre de cachet_ was proposed,\nand he at length went so far as to state the only means of obtaining the\nliberty of the man whose interest she had so violently and\naffectionately at heart.\n\nThis uncommon conversation continued for a long time. The devotee in the\nanti-chamber, in reading her _Christian Pedagogue_, said to herself:\n\n\"My Lord St. Pouange never before gave so long an audience. Perhaps he\nhas refused every thing to this poor girl, and she is still entreating\nhim.\"\n\nAt length her companion came out of the closet in the greatest\nconfusion, without being able to speak. She was lost in deep meditation\nupon the character of the great and the half great, who so slightly\nsacrifice the liberty of men and the honor of women.\n\nShe did not utter a syllable all the way back. But having returned to\nher friend's, she burst out, and told all that had happened. Her pious\nfriend made frequent signs of the cross.\n\n\"My dear friend,\" said she, \"you must consult to-morrow Father\n_Tout-\u00e0-tous_, our director. He has much influence over M. de St.\nPouange. He is confessor of many of the female servants of the house. He\nis a pious accommodating man, who has also the direction of some women\nof fashion. Yield to him; this is my way; and I always found myself\nright. We weak women stand in need of a man to lead us: and so, my dear\nfriend, I'll go to-morrow in search of Father _Tout-\u00e0-tous_.\"\n\n\n\n\nXVI.\n\nMISS ST. YVES CONSULTS A JESUIT.\n\n\nNo sooner was the beautiful and disconsolate Miss St. Yves with her holy\nconfessor, than she told him, \"that a powerful, voluptuous man, had\nproposed to her to set at liberty the man whom she intended making her\nlawful husband, and that he required a great price for his service; that\nshe held such infidelity in the highest detestation; and that if her\nlife only had been required, she would much sooner have sacrificed it\nthan to have submitted.\"\n\n\"This is a most abominable sinner,\" said Father _Tout-\u00e0-tous_, \"You\nshould tell me the name of this vile man. He must certainly be some\nJansenist. I will inform against him to his Reverence, Father de la\nChaise, who will place him in the situation of your dear beloved\nintended bridegroom.\"\n\nThe poor girl, after much hesitation and embarrassment, at length\nmentioned St. Pouange.\n\n\"My Lord St. Pouange!\" cried the Jesuit, \"Ah! my child, the case is\nquite different. He is cousin to the greatest minister we have ever had;\na man of worth, a protector of the good cause, a good Christian. He\ncould not entertain such a thought. You certainly must have\nmisunderstood him.\"\n\n\"Oh! Father, I did but understand him too well. I am lost on which ever\nside I turn. The only alternative I have to choose is misery or shame;\neither my lover must be buried alive, or I must make myself unworthy of\nliving. I cannot let him perish, nor can I save him.\"\n\nFather _Tout-\u00e0-tous_ endeavored to console her with these gentle\nexpressions:\n\n\"In the _first place_, my child, never use the word lover. It intimates\nsomething worldly, which may offend God. Say my husband. You consider\nhim as such, and nothing can be more decent.\n\n\"_Secondly_: Though he be ideally your husband, and you are in hopes he\nwill be such eventually, yet he is not so in reality, consequently, you\nare still free and the mistress of your own conduct.\n\n[Illustration: Father Tout-\u00e0-tous.]\n\n\"_Thirdly_: Actions are not maliciously culpable, when the intention is\nvirtuous; and nothing can be more virtuous than to procure your husband\nhis liberty.\n\n\"_Fourthly_: You have examples in holy antiquity, that miraculously\nserve you for a guide. St. Augustin relates, that under the proconsulate\nof Septimius Acyndius, in the thirty-fourth year of our salvation, a\npoor man could not pay unto C\u00e6sar what belonged to C\u00e6sar, and was justly\ncondemned to die, notwithstanding the maxim, 'Where there is nothing,\nthe king must lose his right.' The object in question was a pound of\ngold. The culprit had a wife in whom God had united beauty and prudence.\n\n\"You may assure yourself, my child, that when a Jesuit quotes St.\nAugustin, that saint must certainly have been in the right. I advise you\nto nothing. You are prudent, and it is to be presumed that you will do\nyour husband a service. My Lord St. Pouange is an honest man. He will\nnot deceive you. This is all I can say. I will pray to God for you, and\nI hope every thing will take place for his glory.\"\n\nThe beautiful Miss St. Yves, who was no less terrified with the Jesuit's\ndiscourse than with the proposals of the deputy minister, returned in\ndespair to her friend. She was tempted to deliver herself by death from\nthe horror of her situation.\n\n\n\n\nXVII.\n\nTHE JESUIT TRIUMPHS.\n\n\nThe unfortunate Miss St. Yves entreated her friend to kill her; but this\nlady, who was fully as indulgent as the Jesuit, spoke to her still more\nclearly.\n\n\"Alas!\" said she, \"at this agreeable, gallant, and famous court,\nbusiness is always thus transacted. The most considerable, as well as\nthe most indifferent places are seldom given away without a\nconsideration. The dignities of war are solicited by the queen of love,\nand, without regard to merit, a place is often given to him who has the\nhandsomest advocate.\n\n\"You are in a situation that is extremely critical. The object is to\nrestore your lover to liberty, and to marry him. It is a sacred duty\nthat you are to fulfill. The world will applaud you. It will be said,\nthat you only allowed yourself to be guilty of a weakness, through an\nexcess of virtue.\"\n\n\"Heavens!\" cried Miss St. Yves, \"What kind of virtue is this? What a\nlabyrinth of distress! What a world! What men to become acquainted with!\nA Father de la Chaise and a ridiculous bailiff imprison my lover; I am\npersecuted by my family; assistance is offered me, only that I may be\ndishonored! A Jesuit has ruined a brave man, another Jesuit wants to\nruin me. On every side snares are laid for me, and I am upon the very\nbrink of destruction! I must even speak to the king; I will throw myself\nat his feet as he goes to mass or to the theatre.\"\n\n\"His attendants will not let you approach,\" said her good friend; \"and\nif you should be so unfortunate as to speak to him, M. de Louvois, or\nthe Reverend Father de la Chaise, might bury you in a convent for the\nrest of your days.\"\n\nWhilst this generous friend thus increased the perplexities of Miss St.\nYves's tortured soul, and plunged the dagger deeper in her heart, a\nmessenger arrived from M. de St. Pouange with a letter, and two fine\npendant earrings. Miss St. Yves, with tears, refused to accept of any\npart of the contents of the packet; but her friend took the charge of\nthem upon herself.\n\nAs soon as the messenger had gone, the _confidante_ read the letter, in\nwhich a _petit-souper_ (a little supper) was proposed to the two friends\nfor that night. Miss St. Yves protested she would not go, whilst her\npious friend endeavored to make her try on the diamond earrings; but\nMiss St. Yves could not endure them, and opposed it all the day long;\nbeing entirely wrapped up in the contemplation of her lover's\nimprisonment. At length, after a long resistance--after sighs, moans,\nand torrents of tears--driven by excitement almost to the verge of\ninsanity--weakened with the conflict, overwhelmed and irresolute, the\ninnocent victim, not knowing whether she was going, was dragged by this\nartful woman to the fatal supper of the \"good Christian and protector of\nthe good cause,\" M. de St. Pouange.\n\n[Illustration: The meeting.]\n\n\n\n\nXVIII.\n\nMISS ST. YVES DELIVERS HER LOVER AND A JANSENIST.\n\n\nAt day-break she fled to Paris with the minister's mandate. It would be\ndifficult to depict the agitation of her mind in this journey. Imagine a\nvirtuous and noble soul, humbled by its own reproaches, intoxicated with\ntenderness, distracted with the remorse of having betrayed her lover,\nand elated with the pleasure of releasing the object of her adoration.\nHer torments and conflicts by turns engaged her reflections. She was no\nlonger that innocent girl whose ideas were confined to a provincial\neducation. Love and misfortunes had united to remould her. Sentiment had\nmade as rapid a progress in her mind, as reason had in that of her\nlover.\n\nHer dress was dictated by the greatest simplicity. She viewed with\nhorror the trappings with which she had appeared before her fatal\nbenefactor. Her companion had taken the earrings without her having\nlooked at them. Anxious and confused, idolizing the Huron and detesting\nherself, she at length arrived at the gate of that dreadful castle--the\npalace of vengeance--where crimes and innocence are alike immured.\n\nWhen she was upon the point of getting out of the coach her strength\nfailed her. Some people came to her assistance. She entered, whilst her\nheart was in the greatest palpitation, her eyes streaming, and her whole\nframe bespoke the greatest consternation. She was presented to the\ngovernor. He was going to speak to her, but she had lost all power of\nexpression: she showed her order, whilst, with great difficulty, she\narticulated some accents. The governor entertained a great esteem for\nhis prisoner, and he was greatly pleased at his being released. His\nheart was not callous, like those of most of his brethren, who think of\nnothing but the fees their captives are to pay them; extort their\nrevenues from their victims; and living by the misery of others,\nconceive a horrid joy at the lamentations of the unfortunate.\n\nHe sent for the prisoner into his apartment. The two lovers swooned at\nthe sight of each other. The beautiful Miss St. Yves remained for a long\ntime motionless, without any symptoms of life; the other soon recalled\nhis fortitude.\n\n\"This lady,\" said the governor, \"is probably your wife. You did not tell\nme you were married. I am informed that it is through her generous\nsolicitude that you have obtained your liberty.\"\n\n\"Alas!\" said the beautiful Miss St. Yves, in a faltering voice, \"I am\nnot worthy of being his wife;\" and swooned again.\n\nWhen she recovered her senses, she presented, with a trembling hand and\naverted eyes, the grant and written promise of a company.\n\nThe Huron, equally astonished and affected, awoke from one dream to fall\ninto another.\n\n\"Why was I shut up here? How could you deliver me? Where are the\nmonsters that immured me? You are a divinity sent from heaven to succor\nme.\"\n\nThe beautiful Miss St. Yves, with a dejected air, looked at her lover,\nblushed, and instantly turned away her streaming eyes. In a word, they\ntold him all she knew, and all she had undergone, except what she was\nwilling to conceal forever, but which any other than the Huron, more\naccustomed to the world and better acquainted with the customs of\ncourts, would easily have guessed.\n\n\"Is it possible,\" said he, \"that a wretch like the bailiff can have\ndeprived me of my liberty?\n\n\"Alas! I find that men, like the vilest of animals, can all injure.\n\n\"But is it possible that a monk, a Jesuit, the king's confessor, should\nhave contributed to my misfortunes as much as the bailiff, without my\nbeing able to imagine under what pretence this detestable knave has\npersecuted me? Did he make me pass for a Jansenist? In fine, how came\nyou to remember me? I did not deserve it; I was then only a savage.\n\n\"What! could you, without advice, without assistance, undertake a\njourney to Versailles?\n\n\"You there appeared, and my fetters were broken!\n\n\"There must then be in beauty and virtue an invincible charm, that opens\ngates of adamant and softens hearts of steel.\"\n\nAt the word virtue, a flood of tears issued from the eyes of the\nbeautiful Miss St. Yves. She did not know how far she had been virtuous\nin the crime with which she reproached herself.\n\nHer lover thus continued:\n\n\"Thou angel, who hast broken my chains, if thou hast had sufficient\ninfluence (which I cannot yet comprehend) to obtain justice for me,\nobtain it likewise for an old man who first taught me to think, as thou\ndidst to love. Misfortunes have united us; I love him as a father; I can\nneither live without thee nor him.\"\n\n\"I solicit?\"\n\n\"The same man.\"\n\n\"Who!\"\n\n\"Yes, I will be beholden to you for everything, and I will owe nothing\nto any one but yourself. Write to this man in power. Overwhelm me with\nkindness--complete what you have begun--perfect your miracle.\"\n\nShe was sensible she ought to do everything her lover desired. She\nwanted to write, but her hand refused its office. She began her letter\nthree times, and tore it as often. At length she got to the end, and the\ntwo lovers left the prison, after having embraced the old martyr to\nefficacious grace.\n\nThe happy yet disconsolate Miss St. Yves knew where her brother lodged:\nthither she repaired; and her lover took an apartment at the same house.\n\nThey had scarce reached their lodging, before her protector sent the\norder for releasing the good old Gordon, at the same time making an\nappointment with her for the next day.\n\nShe gave the order of release to her lover, and refused the appointment\nof a benefactor whom she could no more see without expiring with shame\nand grief.\n\nHer lover would not have left her upon any other errand than to release\nhis friend. He flew to the place of his confinement and fulfilled this\nduty, reflecting, meanwhile, upon the strange vicissitudes of this\nworld, and admiring the courageous virtue of a young lady, to whom two\nunfortunate men owed more than life.\n\n\n\n\nXIX.\n\nTHE HURON, THE BEAUTIFUL MISS ST. YVES, AND THEIR RELATIONS, ARE\nCONVENED.\n\n\nThe generous and respectable, but injured girl, was with her brother the\nAbb\u00e9 de St. Yves, the good Prior of the Mountain, and Lady de Kerkabon.\nThey were equally astonished, but their situations and sentiments were\nvery different. The Abb\u00e9 de St. Yves was expiating the wrongs he had\ndone his sister at her feet, and she pardoned him. The prior and his\nsympathizing sister likewise wept, but it was for joy. The filthy\nbailiff and his insupportable son did not trouble this affecting scene.\nThey had set out upon the first report that their antagonist had been\nreleased. They flew to bury in their own province their folly and fear.\n\nThe four _dramatis person\u00e6_, variously agitated, were waiting for the\nreturn of the young man who had gone to deliver his friend. The Abb\u00e9 de\nSt. Yves did not dare to raise his eyes to meet those of his sister. The\ngood Kerkabon said:\n\n\"I shall then see once more my dear nephew.\"\n\n\"You will see him again,\" said the charming Miss St. Yves, \"but he is no\nlonger the same man. His behavior, his manners, his ideas, his sense,\nhave all undergone a complete mutation. He has become as respectable, as\nhe was before ignorant and strange to everything. He will be the honor\nand consolation of your family; would to heaven that I might also be the\nhonor of mine!\"\n\n\"What, are you not the same as you were?\" said the prior. \"What then has\nhappened to work so great a change?\"\n\nDuring this conversation the Huron returned in company with the\nJansenist. The scene was now changed, and became more interesting. It\nbegan by the uncle and aunt's tender embraces. The Abb\u00e9 de St. Yves\nalmost kissed the knees of the ingenuous Huron, who, by the by, was no\nlonger ingenuous. The language of the eyes formed all the discourse of\nthe two lovers, who, nevertheless, expressed every sentiment with which\nthey were penetrated. Satisfaction and acknowledgment sparkled in the\ncountenance of the one, whilst embarrassment was depicted in Miss St.\nYves's melting but half averted eyes. Every one was astonished that she\nshould mingle grief with so much joy.\n\nThe venerable Gordon soon endeared himself to the whole family. He had\nbeen unhappy with the young prisoner, and this was a sufficient title to\ntheir esteem. He owed his deliverance to the two lovers, and this alone\nreconciled him to love. The acrimony of his former sentiments was\ndismissed from his heart--he was converted by gratitude, as well as the\nHuron. Every one related his adventures before supper. The two Abb\u00e9s and\nthe aunt listened like children to the relation of stories of ghosts,\nand both were deeply interested.\n\n\"Alas!\" said Gordon, \"there are perhaps upwards of five hundred virtuous\npeople in the same fetters as Miss St. Yves has broken. Their\nmisfortunes are unheeded. Many hands are found to strike the unhappy\nmultitude,--how seldom one to succor them.\"\n\nThis very just reflection increased his sensibility and gratitude.\nEverything heightened the triumph of the beautiful Miss St. Yves. The\ngrandeur and intrepidity of her soul were the subject of each one's\nadmiration. This admiration was blended with that respect which we feel\nin spite of ourselves for a person who we think has some influence at\ncourt. But the Abb\u00e9 de St. Yves enquired:\n\n\"What could my sister do to obtain this influence so soon?\"\n\nSupper being ready, every one was already seated, when, lo! the worthy\n_confidante_ of Versailles arrived, without being acquainted with\nanything that had passed. She was in a coach and six, and it was easily\nseen to whom the equipage belonged. She entered with that air of\nauthority assumed by people in power who have a great deal of\nbusiness--saluted the company with much indifference, and, pulling the\nbeautiful Miss St. Yves on one side, said:\n\n\"Why do you make people wait so long? Follow me. There are the diamonds\nyou forgot.\"\n\nHowever softly she uttered these expressions, the Huron, nevertheless,\noverheard them. He saw the diamonds. The brother was speechless. The\nuncle and aunt exhibited the surprise of good people, who had never\nbefore beheld such magnificence. The young man, whose mind was now\nformed by an experience of twelve months, could not help making some\nreflections against his will, and was for a moment in anxiety. His\nmistress perceived it, and a mortal paleness spread itself over her\ncountenance; a tremor seized her, and it was with difficulty she could\nsupport herself.\n\n\"Ah! madam,\" said she to her fatal friend, \"you have ruined me--you have\ngiven me the mortal blow.\"\n\nThese words pierced the heart of the Huron: but he had already learned\nto possess himself. He did not dwell upon them, lest he should make his\nmistress uneasy before her brother, but turned pale as well as she.\n\nMiss St. Yves, distracted with the change she perceived in her lover's\ncountenance, pulled the woman out of the room into the passage, and\nthere threw the jewels at her feet, saying:\n\n\"Alas! these were not my seducers, as you well know: but he that gave\nthem shall never set eyes on me again.\"\n\nHer friend took them up, whilst Miss St. Yves added:\n\n\"He may either take them again, or give them to you. Begone, and do not\nmake me still more odious to myself.\"\n\nThe ambassadress at length departed, not being able to comprehend the\nremorse to which she had been witness.\n\nThe beautiful Miss St. Yves, greatly oppressed and feeling a revolution\nin her body that almost suffocated her, was compelled to go to bed; but\nthat she might not alarm any one she kept her pains and sufferings to\nherself: and under pretence of only being weary, she asked leave to take\na little rest. This, however, she did not do till she had reanimated the\ncompany with consolatory and flattering expressions, and cast such a\nkind look upon her lover as darted fire into his soul.\n\nThe supper, of which she did not partake, was in the beginning gloomy;\nbut this gloominess was of that interesting kind which inspires\nreflection and useful conversation, so superior to that frivolous\nexcitement commonly exhibited, and which is usually nothing more than a\ntroublesome noise.\n\nGordon, in a few words, gave the history of Jansenism and Molinism; of\nthose persecutions with which one party hampered the other; and of the\nobstinacy of both. The Huron entered into a criticism thereupon, pitying\nthose men who, not satisfied with all the confusion occasioned by these\nopposite interests, create evils by imaginary interests and\nunintelligible absurdities. Gordon related--the other judged. The guests\nlistened with emotion, and gained new lights. The duration of\nmisfortunes, and the shortness of life, then became the topics. It was\nremarked that all professions have peculiar vices and dangers annexed to\nthem; and that from the prince down to the lowest beggar, all seemed\nalike to accuse providence. How happens it that so many men, for so\nlittle, perform the office of persecutors, sergeants, and executioners,\nto others? With what inhuman indifference does a man in authority sign\npapers for the destruction of a family; and with what joy, still more\nbarbarous, do mercenaries execute them.\n\n\"I saw in my youth,\" said the good old Gordon, \"a relation of the\nMarshal de Marillic, who, being prosecuted in his own province on\naccount of that illustrious but unfortunate man, concealed himself under\na borrowed name in Paris. He was an old man near seventy-two years of\nage. His wife, who accompanied him, was nearly of the same age. They had\na libertine son, who at fourteen years of age absconded from his\nfather's house, turned soldier, and deserted. He had gone through every\ngradation of debauchery and misery; at length, having changed his name,\nhe was in the guards of Cardinal Richelieu, (for this priest, as well as\nMazarine, had guards) and had obtained an exempt's staff in their\ncompany of sergeants.\n\n\"This adventurer was appointed to arrest the old man and his wife, and\nacquitted himself with all the obduracy of a man who was willing to\nplease his master. As he was conducting them, he heard these two victims\ndeplore the long succession of miseries which had befallen them from\ntheir cradle. This aged couple reckoned as one of their greatest\nmisfortunes the wildness and loss of their son. He recollected them, but\nhe nevertheless led them to prison; assuring them, that his Reverence\nwas to be served in preference to every body else. His Eminence rewarded\nhis zeal.\n\n\"I have seen a spy of Father de la Chaise betray his own brother, in\nhopes of a little benefice, which he did not obtain; and I saw him die,\nnot of remorse, but of grief at having been cheated by the Jesuit.\n\n\"The vocation of a confessor, which I for a long while exercised, made\nme acquainted with the secrets of families. I have known very few, who,\nthough immersed in the greatest distress, did not externally wear the\nmask of felicity and every appearance of joy; and I have always observed\nthat great grief was the fruit of our unconstrained desires.\"\n\n\"For my part,\" said the Huron, \"I imagine, that a noble, grateful,\nsensible man, may always be happy; and I hope to enjoy an uncheckered\nfelicity with the charming, generous Miss St. Yves. For I flatter\nmyself,\" added he, in addressing himself to her brother with a friendly\nsmile, \"that you will not now refuse me as you did last year: besides, I\nshall pursue a more decent method.\"\n\nThe Abb\u00e9 was confounded in apologies for the past, and in protesting an\neternal attachment.\n\nUncle Kerkabon said this would be the most glorious day of his whole\nlife. His good aunt Kerkabon, in ecstasies of joy, cried out:\n\n\"I always said you would never be a sub-deacon. This sacrament is\npreferable to the other; would to God I had been honored with it! but I\nwill serve you for a mother.\"\n\nAnd now all vied with each other in applauding the gentle Miss St. Yves.\n\nHer lover's heart was too full of what she had done for him, and he\nloved her too much, for the affair of the jewels to make any permanent\nimpression on him. But those words, which he too well heard, \"_you have\ngiven me the mortal blow_\", still secretly terrified him, and\ninterrupted all his joy; whilst the eulogiums paid his beautiful\nmistress still increased his love. In a word, nothing was thought of but\nher,--nothing was mentioned but the happiness those two lovers deserved.\nA plan was agitated to live altogether at Paris, and schemes of grandeur\nand fortune were formed. These hopes, which the smallest ray of\nhappiness engenders, were predominant. But the Huron felt, in the secret\nrecesses of his heart, a sentiment that exploded the illusion. He read\nover the promises signed by St. Pouange, and the commission signed\nLouvois. These men were painted to him such as they were, or such as\nthey were thought to be. Every one spoke of the ministers and\nadministration with the freedom of convivial conversation, which is\nconsidered in France as the most precious liberty to be obtained on\nearth.\n\n\"If I were king of France,\" said the Huron, \"this is the kind of\nminister that I would choose for the war department. I would have a man\nof the highest birth, as he is to give orders to the nobility. I would\nrequire that he should himself have been an officer, and have passed\nthrough the various gradations; or, at least, that he had attained the\nrank of Lieutenant General, and was worthy of being a Marshal of France.\nFor, to be acquainted with the details of the service, is it not\nnecessary that he himself should have served? and will not officers\nobey, with a hundred times more alacrity, a military man, who like\nthemselves has been signalized by his courage, rather than a mere man of\nthe cabinet, who, whatever natural ability he may possess, can, at most,\nonly guess at the operations of a campaign? I should not be displeased\nat my minister's generosity, even though it might sometimes embarrass a\nlittle the keeper of the royal treasure. I should desire him to have a\nfacility in business, and that he should distinguish himself by that\nkind of gaiety of mind, which is the lot of men superior to business,\nwhich is so agreeable to the nation, and which renders the performance\nof every duty less irksome.\"\n\nThis is the character he would have chosen for a minister, as he had\nconstantly observed that such an amiable disposition is incompatible\nwith cruelty.\n\nMonsieur de Louvois would not, perhaps, have been satisfied with the\nHuron's wishes. His merit lay in a different walk. But whilst they were\nstill at table, the disorder of the unhappy Miss St. Yves took a fatal\nturn. Her blood was on fire,--the symptoms of a malignant fever had\nappeared. She suffered, but did not complain, being unwilling to disturb\nthe pleasure of the guests.\n\nHer brother, thinking that she was not asleep, went to the foot of her\nbed. He was astonished at the condition he found her in. Every body flew\nto her. Her lover appeared next to her brother. He was certainly the\nmost alarmed, and the most affected of any one; but he had learned to\nunite discretion to all the happy gifts nature had bestowed upon him,\nand a quick sensibility of decorum began to prevail over him.\n\nA neighboring physician was immediately sent for. He was one of those\nitinerant doctors who confound the last disorder they were consulted\nupon with the present;--who follow a blind practice in a science from\nwhich the most mature investigations and careful observations do not\npreclude uncertainty and danger. He greatly increased the disorder by\nprescribing a fashionable nostrum. Can fashion extend to medicine? This\nfrenzy was then too prevalent in Paris.\n\nThe grief of Miss St. Yves contributed still more than her physician to\nrender her disorder fatal. Her body suffered martyrdom in the torments\nof her mind. The crowd of thoughts which agitated her breast,\ncommunicated to her veins a more dangerous poison than that of the most\nburning fever.\n\n\n\n\nXX.\n\nTHE DEATH OF THE BEAUTIFUL MISS ST. YVES, AND ITS CONSEQUENCES.\n\n\nAnother physician was called in. But, instead of assisting nature and\nleaving it to act in a young person whose organs recalled the vital\nstream, he applied himself solely to counteract the effects of his\nbrother's prescription. The disorder, in two days, became mortal. The\nbrain, which is thought to be the seat of the mind, was as violently\naffected as the heart, which, we are told, is the seat of the passions.\nBy what incomprehensible mechanism are our organs held in subjection to\nsentiment and thought? How is it that a single melancholy idea shall\ndisturb the whole course of the blood; and that the blood should in turn\ncommunicate irregularities to the human understanding? What is that\nunknown fluid which certainly exists and which, quicker and more active\nthan light, flies in less than the twinkling of an eye into all the\nchannels of life,--produces sensations, memory, joy or grief, reason or\nfrenzy,--recalls with horror what we would choose to forget; and renders\na thinking animal, either a subject of admiration, or an object of pity\nand compassion?\n\nThese were the reflections of the good old Gordon; and these\nobservations, so natural, which men seldom make, did not prevent his\nfeeling upon this occasion; for he was not of the number of those gloomy\nphilosophers who pique themselves upon being insensible.\n\nHe was affected at the fate of this young woman, like a father who sees\nhis dear child yielding to a slow death. The Abb\u00e9 de St. Yves was\ndesperate; the prior and his sister shed floods of tears; but who could\ndescribe the situation of her lover? All expression falls far short of\nthe intensity of his affliction.\n\nHis aunt, almost lifeless, supported the head of the departing fair in\nher feeble arms; her brother was upon his knees at the foot of the bed;\nher lover squeezed her hand, which he bathed in tears; his groans rent\nthe air, whilst he called her his guardian angel, his life, his hope,\nhis better half, his mistress, his wife. At the word wife, a sigh\nescaped her, whilst she looked upon him with inexpressible tenderness,\nand then abruptly gave a horrid scream. Presently in one of those\nintervals when grief, the oppression of the senses, and pain subside and\nleave the soul its liberty and powers, she cried out:\n\n\"I your wife? Ah! dear lover, this name, this happiness, this felicity,\nwere not destined for me! I die, and I deserve it. O idol of my heart! O\nyou, whom I sacrificed to infernal demons--it is done--I am\npunished--live and be happy!\"\n\nThese tender but dreadful expressions were incomprehensible; yet they\nmelted and terrified every heart. She had the courage to explain\nherself, and her auditors quaked with astonishment, grief, and pity.\nThey with one voice detested the man in power, who repaired a shocking\nact of injustice only by his crimes, and who had forced the most amiable\ninnocence to be his accomplice.\n\n\"Who? you guilty?\" said her lover, \"no, you are not. Guilt can only be\nin the heart;--yours is devoted solely to virtue and to me.\"\n\nThis opinion he corroborated by such expressions as seemed to recall the\nbeautiful Miss St. Yves back to life. She felt some consolation from\nthem and was astonished at being still beloved. The aged Gordon would\nhave condemned her at the time he was only a Jansenist; but having\nattained wisdom, he esteemed her, and wept.\n\nIn the midst of these lamentations and fears, whilst the dangerous\nsituation of this worthy girl engrossed every breast, and all were in\nthe greatest consternation, a courier arrived from court.\n\n\"A courier? from whom, and upon what account?\"\n\nHe was sent by the king's confessor to the Prior of the Mountain. It was\nnot Father de la Chaise who wrote, but brother Vadbled, his valet de\nchambre, a man of great consequence at that time, who acquainted the\narchbishops with the reverend Father's pleasure, who gave audiences,\npromised benefices, and sometimes issued _lettres de cachet_.\n\nHe wrote to the Abb\u00e9 of the Mountain, \"that his reverence had been\ninformed of his nephew's exploits: that his being sent to prison was\nthrough mistake; that such little accidents frequently happened, and\nshould therefore not be attended to; and, in fine, it behoved him, the\nprior, to come and present his nephew the next day: that he was to bring\nwith him that good man Gordon; and that he, brother Vadbled, should\nintroduce them to his reverence and M. de Louvois, who would say a word\nto them in his anti-chamber.\"\n\nTo which he added, \"that the history of the Huron, and his combat\nagainst the English, had been related to the king; that doubtless the\nking would deign to take notice of him in passing through the gallery,\nand perhaps he might even nod his head to him.\"\n\nThe letter concluded by flattering him with hopes that all the ladies of\nthe court would show their eagerness to recognize his nephew; and that\nseveral among them would say to him, \"Good day, Mr. Huron;\" and that he\nwould certainly be talked of at the king's supper.\n\nThe letter was signed, \"Your affectionate brother Jesuit, Vadbled.\"\n\nThe prior having read the letter aloud, his furious nephew for an\ninstant suppressed his rage, and said nothing to the bearer: but turning\ntoward the companion of his misfortunes, asked him, what he thought of\nthat communication? Gordon replied:\n\n\"This, then, is the way that men are treated! They are first beaten and\nthen, like monkeys, they dance.\"\n\nThe Huron resuming his character, which always returned in the great\nemotions of his soul, tore the letter to bits, and threw them in the\ncourier's face:\n\n\"There is my answer,\" said he.\n\n[Illustration: Death of Miss St. Ives.--\"When the fatal moment came, all\naround her most feelingly expressed their grief by incessant tears and\nlamentations. The Huron was senseless. Great souls feel more violent\nsensations than those of less tender dispositions.\"]\n\nHis uncle was in terror, and fancied he saw thunderbolts, and twenty\n_lettres de cachet_ at once fall upon him. He immediately wrote the best\nexcuse he could for these transports of passion in a young man, which he\nconsidered as the ebullition of a great soul.\n\nBut a solicitude of a more melancholy stamp now seized every heart. The\nbeautiful and unfortunate Miss St. Yves was already sensible of her\napproaching end; she was serene, but it was that kind of shocking\nserenity, the result of exhausted nature being no longer able to\nwithstand the conflict.\n\n\"Oh, my dear lover!\" said she, in a faltering voice, \"death punishes me\nfor my weakness; but I expire with the consolation of knowing you are\nfree. I adored you whilst I betrayed you, and I adore you in bidding you\nan eternal adieu.\"\n\nShe did not make a parade of a ridiculous fortitude; she did not\nunderstand that miserable glory of having some of her neighbors say,\n\"she died with courage.\" Who, at twenty, can be at once torn from her\nlover, from life, and what is called honor, without regret, without some\npangs? She felt all the horror of her situation, and made it felt by\nthose expiring looks and accents which speak with so much energy. In a\nword, she shed tears like other people at those intervals that she was\ncapable of giving vent to them.\n\nLet others strive to celebrate the pompous deaths of those who\ninsensibly rush into destruction. This is the lot of all animals. We die\nlike them only when age or disorders make us resemble them by the\nparalysis of our organs. Whoever suffers a great loss must feel great\nregrets. If they are stifled, it is nothing but vanity that is pursued,\neven in the arms of death.\n\nWhen the fatal moment came, all around her most feelingly expressed\ntheir grief by incessant tears and lamentations. The Huron was\nsenseless. Great souls feel more violent sensations than those of less\ntender dispositions. The good old Gordon knew enough of his companion to\ndread that when he came to himself he would be guilty of suicide. All\nkinds of arms were put out of his way, which the unfortunate young man\nperceived. He said to his relations and Gordon, without shedding any\ntears, without a groan, or the least emotion:\n\n\"Do you then think that any one upon earth hath the right and power to\nprevent my putting an end to my life?\"\n\nGordon took care to avoid making a parade of those commonplace\ndeclamations and arguments which are relied on to prove that we are not\nallowed to exercise our liberty in ceasing to be when we are in a\nwretched situation; that we should not leave the house when we can no\nlonger remain in it; that a man is like a soldier at his post; as if it\nsignified to the Being of beings whether the conjunction of the\nparticles of matter were in one spot or another. Impotent reasons, to\nwhich a firm and concentrated despair disdains to listen, and to which\nCato replied only with the use of a poniard.\n\nThe Huron's sullen and dreadful silence, his doleful aspect, his\ntrembling lips, and the shivering of his whole frame, communicated to\nevery spectator's soul that mixture of compassion and terror, which\nfetters all our powers, precludes discourse, or compels us to speak only\nin faltering accents. The hostess and her family were excited. They\ntrembled to behold the state of his desperation, yet all kept their eyes\nupon him, and attended to all his motions. The ice-cold corpse of the\nbeautiful Miss St. Yves had already been carried into a lower hall out\nof the sight of her lover, who seemed still in search of it, though\nincapable of observing any object.\n\nIn the midst of this spectacle of death, whilst the dead body was\nexposed at the door of the house; whilst two priests by the side of the\nholy water-pot were repeating prayers with an air of distraction; whilst\nsome passengers, through idleness, sprinkled the bier with some drops of\nholy water, and others went their ways quite indifferent; whilst her\nrelations were drowned in tears, and every one thought the lover would\nnot survive his loss;--in this situation St. Pouange arrived with his\nfemale Versailles friend.\n\nHe alighted from his coach; and the first object that presented itself\nwas a bier: he turned away his eyes with that simple distaste of a man\nbred up in pleasures, and who thinks he should avoid a spectacle which\nmight recall him to the contemplation of human misery. He is inclined to\ngo up stairs, whilst his female friend enquires through curiosity whose\nfuneral it is. The name of Miss St. Yves is pronounced. At this name she\nturned, and gave a piercing shriek. St. Pouange now returns, whilst\nsurprise and grief possess his soul. The good old Gordon stood with\nstreaming eyes. He for a moment ceased his lamentations, to acquaint the\ncourtier with all the circumstances of this melancholy catastrophe. He\nspoke with that authority which is the companion to sorrow and virtue.\nSt. Pouange was not naturally wicked. The torrent of business and\namusements had hurried away his soul, which was not yet acquainted with\nitself. He did not border upon that grey age which usually hardens the\nhearts of ministers. He listened to Gordon with a downcast look, and\nsome tears escaped him, which he was surprised to shed. In a word, he\nrepented.\n\n\"I will,\" said he, \"absolutely see this extraordinary man you have\nmentioned to me. He affects me almost as much as this innocent victim,\nwhose death I have occasioned.\"\n\nGordon followed him as far as the chamber in which the Prior Kerkabon,\nthe Abb\u00e9 St. Yves, and some neighbors, were striving to recall to life\nthe young man, who had again fainted.\n\n\"I have been the cause of your misfortunes,\" said the deputy minister,\nwhen the Huron had regained consciousness, \"and my whole life shall be\nemployed in making reparation for my error.\"\n\nThe first idea that struck the Huron was to kill him and then destroy\nhimself. But he was without arms, and closely watched. St. Pouange was\nnot repulsed with refusals accompanied with reproach, contempt, and the\ninsults he deserved, which were lavished upon him. Time softens\neverything. Mons. de Louvois at length succeeded in making an excellent\nofficer of the Huron, who has appeared under another name at Paris and\nin the army, respected by all honest men, being at once a warrior and an\nintrepid philosopher.\n\nHe never mentioned this adventure without being greatly affected, and\nyet his greatest consolation was to speak of it. He cherished the memory\nof his beloved Miss St. Yves to the last moment of his life.[1]\n\nThe Abb\u00e9 St. Yves and the Prior were each provided with good livings.\nThe good Kerkabon rather chose to see his nephew invested with military\nhonors than in the sub-deaconry. The devotee of Versailles kept the\ndiamond earrings, and received besides a handsome present. Father\n_Tout-\u00e0-tous_ had presents of chocolate, coffee, and confectionery, with\nthe _Meditations of the Reverend Father Croiset_, and the _Flower of the\nSaints_, bound in Morocco. Good old Gordon lived with the Huron till his\ndeath, in the most friendly intimacy: he had also a benefice, and\nforgot, forever, essential grace, and the concomitant concourse. He took\nfor his motto, \"Misfortunes are of some use.\" How many worthy people are\nthere in the world who may justly say, \"Misfortunes are good for\nnothing?\"\n\n\n[1] In the Play, _Civilization_, the Huron musingly soliloquizes:\n\n     \"And what is love to man? An only gift\n      Too precious to be idly thrown away!\n      For is it not as precious as our land,\n      Which, heeding not another's golden sky--\n      Soft airs, sweet flowers, hill and dale conjoin'd\n      By nature's cunning past comparison--\n      Is still our land; and, as our land, surpasses\n      Far such fairy worlds?\n\n     \"There are some dreams that last a life--mine\n      Is one of these. I shall dream on till death\n      Shall end the vision!\n\n     \"It is not hard to die! And life is but\n      A shadow on the wall--a falling leaf\n      Toy'd with by autumn winds--a flower--a star\n      Among the infinite, infinitesimal!\n      We are but breath whispering against the wind,--\n      Sand in the desert!--dew upon the sea!\"--E.\n\n\n\n\n\nMICROMEGAS:\n\nA SATIRE ON THE PHILOSOPHY, IGNORANCE. AND SELF-CONCEIT OF MANKIND.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: A medieval exploring vessel.][1]\n\n\n\n\nI.\n\nA VOYAGE TO THE PLANET SATURN, BY A NATIVE OF SIRIUS.\n\n\nIn one of the planets that revolve round the star known by the name of\nSirius, was a certain young gentleman of promising parts, whom I had the\nhonor to be acquainted with in his last voyage to this our little\nant-hill. His name was Micromegas, an appellation admirably suited to\nall great men, and his stature amounted to eight leagues in height, that\nis, twenty-four thousand geometrical paces of five feet each.\n\nSome of your mathematicians, a set of people always useful to the\npublic, will, perhaps, instantly seize the pen, and calculate that Mr.\nMicromegas, inhabitant of the country of Sirius, being from head to foot\nfour and twenty thousand paces in length, making one hundred and twenty\nthousand royal feet, that we, denizens of this earth, being at a medium\nlittle more than five feet high, and our globe nine thousand leagues in\ncircumference: these things being premised, they will then conclude that\nthe periphery of the globe which produced him must be exactly one and\ntwenty millions six hundred thousand times greater than that of this our\ntiny ball. Nothing in nature is more simple and common. The dominions of\nsome sovereigns of Germany or Italy, which may be compassed in half an\nhour, when compared with the empires of Ottoman, Russia, or China, are\nno other than faint instances of the prodigious difference that nature\nhath made in the scale of beings. The stature of his excellency being of\nthese extraordinary dimensions, all our artists will agree that the\nmeasure around his body might amount to fifty thousand royal feet--a\nvery agreeable and just proportion.\n\nHis nose being equal in length to one-third of his face, and his jolly\ncountenance engrossing one-seventh part of his height, it must be owned\nthat the nose of this same Sirian was six thousand three hundred and\nthirty-three royal feet to a hair, which was to be demonstrated. With\nregard to his understanding, it is one of the best cultivated I have\nknown. He is perfectly well acquainted with abundance of things, some of\nwhich are of his own invention; for, when his age did not exceed two\nhundred and fifty years, he studied, according to the custom of the\ncountry, at the most celebrated university of the whole planet, and by\nthe force of his genius discovered upwards of fifty propositions of\nEuclid, having the advantage by more than eighteen of Blaise Pascal,\nwho, (as we are told by his own sister,) demonstrated two and thirty for\nhis amusement and then left off, choosing rather to be an indifferent\nphilosopher than a great mathematician.\n\nAbout the four hundred and fiftieth year of his age, or latter end of\nhis childhood, he dissected a great number of small insects not more\nthan one hundred feet in diameter, which are not perceivable by ordinary\nmicroscopes, of which he composed a very curious treatise, which\ninvolved him in some trouble. The mufti of the nation, though very old\nand very ignorant, made shift to discover in his book certain lemmas\nthat were suspicious, unseemly, rash, heretic, and unsound, and\nprosecuted him with great animosity, for the subject of the author's\ninquiry was whether, in the world of Sirius, there was any difference\nbetween the substantial forms of a flea and a snail.\n\nMicromegas defended his philosophy with such spirit as made all the\nfemale sex his proselytes; and the process lasted two hundred and twenty\nyears; at the end of which time, in consequence of the mufti's interest,\nthe book was condemned by judges who had never read it, and the author\nexpelled from court for the term of eight hundred years.\n\nNot much affected at his banishment from a court that teemed with\nnothing but turmoils and trifles, he made a very humorous song upon the\nmufti, who gave himself no trouble about the matter, and set out on his\ntravels from planet to planet, in order (as the saying is) to improve\nhis mind and finish his education. Those who never travel but in a\npost-chaise or berlin, will, doubtless, be astonished at the equipages\nused above; for we that strut upon this little mole hill are at a loss\nto conceive anything that surpasses our own customs. But our traveler\nwas a wonderful adept in the laws of gravitation, together with the\nwhole force of attraction and repulsion, and made such seasonable use of\nhis knowledge, that sometimes by the help of a sunbeam, and sometimes by\nthe convenience of a comet, he and his retinue glided from sphere to\nsphere, as the bird hops from one bough to another. He in a very little\ntime posted through the milky way, and I am obliged to own he saw not a\ntwinkle of those stars supposed to adorn that fair empyrean, which the\nillustrious Dr. Derham brags to have observed through his telescope. Not\nthat I pretend to say the doctor was mistaken. God forbid! But\nMicromegas was upon the spot, an exceeding good observer, and I have no\nmind to contradict any man. Be that as it may, after many windings and\nturnings, he arrived at the planet Saturn; and, accustomed as he was to\nthe sight of novelties, he could not for his life repress a supercilious\nand conceited smile, which often escapes the wisest philosopher, when he\nperceived the smallness of that globe, and the diminutive size of its\ninhabitants; for really Saturn is but about nine hundred times larger\nthan this our earth, and the people of that country mere dwarfs, about a\nthousand fathoms high. In short, he at first derided those poor pigmies,\njust as an Indian fiddler laughs at the music of Lully, at his first\narrival in Paris: but as this Sirian was a person of good sense, he soon\nperceived that a thinking being may not be altogether ridiculous, even\nthough he is not quite six thousand feet high; and therefore he became\nfamiliar with them, after they had ceased to wonder at his extraordinary\nappearance. In particular, he contracted an intimate friendship with the\nsecretary of the Academy of Saturn, a man of good understanding, who,\nthough in truth he had invented nothing of his own, gave a very good\naccount of the inventions of others, and enjoyed in peace the reputation\nof a little poet and great calculator. And here, for the edification of\nthe reader, I will repeat a very singular conversation that one day\npassed between Mr. Secretary and Micromegas.\n\n\n[1] The Gazettes record that this vessel ran ashore on the coast of\nBothnia, when returning from the polar circle with a party of\nphilosophers on board who had been making observations, for which nobody\nhas hitherto been the wiser; but, according to this romance, the vessel\nwas illegally captured in the Baltic sea by the Sirian giant Micromegas\nand the Saturnian dwarf.--E.\n\n\n\n\nII.\n\nTHE CONVERSATION BETWEEN MICROMEGAS AND THE INHABITANT OF SATURN.\n\n\nHis excellency having laid himself down, and the secretary approached\nhis nose:\n\n\"It must be confessed,\" said Micromegas, \"that nature is full of\nvariety.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" replied the Saturnian, \"nature is like a parterre, whose\nflowers--\"\n\n\"Pshaw!\" cried the other, \"a truce with your parterres.\"\n\n\"It is,\" resumed the secretary, \"like an assembly of fair and brown\nwomen, whose dresses--\"\n\n\"What a plague have I to do with your brunettes?\" said our traveler.\n\n\"Then it is like a gallery of pictures, the strokes of which--\"\n\n\"Not at all,\" answered Micromegas, \"I tell you once for all, nature is\nlike nature, and comparisons are odious.\"\n\n\"Well, to please you,\" said the secretary--\n\n\"I won't be pleased,\" replied the Sirian, \"I want to be instructed;\nbegin, therefore, without further preamble, and tell me how many senses\nthe people of this world enjoy.\"\n\n\"We have seventy and two,\" said the academician, \"but we are daily\ncomplaining of the small number, as our imagination transcends our\nwants, for, with the seventy-two senses, our five moons and ring, we\nfind ourselves very much restricted; and notwithstanding our curiosity,\nand the no small number of those passions that result from these few\nsenses, we have still time enough to be tired of idleness.\"\n\n\"I sincerely believe what you say,\" cried Micromegas \"for, though we\nSirians have near a thousand different senses, there still remains a\ncertain vague desire, an unaccountable inquietude incessantly\nadmonishing us of our own unimportance, and giving us to understand that\nthere are other beings who are much our superiors in point of\nperfection. I have traveled a little, and seen mortals both above and\nbelow myself in the scale of being, but I have met with none who had not\nmore desire than necessity, and more want than gratification. Perhaps I\nshall one day arrive in some country where nought is wanting, but\nhitherto I have had no certain information of such a happy land.\"\n\nThe Saturnian and his guest exhausted themselves in conjectures upon\nthis subject, and after abundance of argumentation equally ingenious and\nuncertain, were fain to return to matter of fact.\n\n\"To what age do you commonly live?\" said the Sirian.\n\n\"Lack-a-day! a mere trifle,\" replied the little gentleman.\n\n\"It is the very same case with us,\" resumed the other, \"the shortness of\nlife is our daily complaint, so that this must be an universal law in\nnature.\"\n\n\"Alas!\" cried the Saturnian, \"few, very few on this globe outlive five\nhundred great revolutions of the sun; (these, according to our way of\nreckoning, amount to about fifteen thousand years.) So, you see, we in a\nmanner begin to die the very moment we are born: our existence is no\nmore than a point, our duration an instant, and our globe an atom.\nScarce do we begin to learn a little, when death intervenes before we\ncan profit by experience. For my own part, I am deterred from laying\nschemes when I consider myself as a single drop in the midst of an\nimmense ocean. I am particularly ashamed, in your presence, of the\nridiculous figure I make among my fellow-creatures.\"\n\nTo this declaration, Micromegas replied.\n\n\"If you were not a philosopher, I should be afraid of mortifying your\npride by telling you that the term of our lives is seven hundred times\nlonger than the date of your existence: but you are very sensible that\nwhen the texture of the body is resolved, in order to reanimate nature\nin another form, which is the consequence of what we call death--when\nthat moment of change arrives, there is not the least difference betwixt\nhaving lived a whole eternity, or a single day. I have been in some\ncountries where the people live a thousand times longer than with us,\nand yet they murmured at the shortness of their time. But one will find\nevery where some few persons of good sense, who know how to make the\nbest of their portion, and thank the author of nature for his bounty.\nThere is a profusion of variety scattered through the universe, and yet\nthere is an admirable vein of uniformity that runs through the whole:\nfor example, all thinking beings are different among themselves, though\nat bottom they resemble one another in the powers and passions of the\nsoul. Matter, though interminable, hath different properties in every\nsphere. How many principal attributes do you reckon in the matter of\nthis world?\"\n\n\"If you mean those properties,\" said the Saturnian, \"without which we\nbelieve this our globe could not subsist, we reckon in all three\nhundred, such as extent, impenetrability, motion, gravitation,\ndivisibility, et c\u00e6tera.\"\n\n\"That small number,\" replied the traveler, \"probably answers the views\nof the creator on this your narrow sphere. I adore his wisdom in all his\nworks. I see infinite variety, but every where proportion. Your globe is\nsmall: so are the inhabitants. You have few sensations; because your\nmatter is endued with few properties. These are the works of unerring\nprovidence. Of what color does your sun appear when accurately\nexamined?\"\n\n\"Of a yellowish white,\" answered the Saturnian, \"and in separating one\nof his rays we find it contains seven colors.\"\n\n\"Our sun,\" said the Sirian, \"is of a reddish hue, and we have no less\nthan thirty-nine original colors. Among all the suns I have seen there\nis no sort of resemblance, and in this sphere of yours there is not one\nface like another.\"\n\nAfter divers questions of this nature, he asked how many substances,\nessentially different, they counted in the world of Saturn; and\nunderstood that they numbered but thirty: such as God; space; matter;\nbeings endowed with sense and extension; beings that have extension,\nsense, and reflection; thinking beings who have no extension; those that\nare penetrable; those that are impenetrable, and also all others. But\nthis Saturnian philosopher was prodigiously astonished when the Sirian\ntold him they had no less than three hundred, and that he himself had\ndiscovered three thousand more in the course of his travels. In short,\nafter having communicated to each other what they knew, and even what\nthey did not know, and argued during a complete revolution of the sun,\nthey resolved to set out together on a small philosophical tour.\n\n\n\n\nIII.\n\nTHE VOYAGE OF THESE INHABITANTS OF OTHER WORLDS.\n\n\nOur two philosophers were just ready to embark for the atmosphere of\nSaturn, with a large provision of mathematical instruments, when the\nSaturnian's mistress, having got an inkling of their design, came all in\ntears to make her protests. She was a handsome brunette, though not\nabove six hundred and threescore fathoms high; but her agreeable\nattractions made amends for the smallness of her stature.\n\n\"Ah! cruel man,\" cried she, \"after a courtship of fifteen hundred years,\nwhen at length I surrendered, and became your wife, and scarce have\npassed two hundred more in thy embraces, to leave me thus, before the\nhoneymoon is over, and go a rambling with a giant of another world! Go,\ngo, thou art a mere virtuoso, devoid of tenderness and love! If thou\nwert a true Saturnian, thou wouldst be faithful and invariable. Ah!\nwhither art thou going? what is thy design? Our five moons are not so\ninconstant, nor our ring so changeable as thee! But take this along with\nthee, henceforth I ne'er shall love another man.\"\n\nThe little gentleman embraced and wept over her, notwithstanding his\nphilosophy; and the lady, after having swooned with great decency, went\nto console herself with more agreeable company.\n\nMeanwhile our two virtuosi set out, and at one jump leaped upon the\nring, which they found pretty flat, according to the ingenious guess of\nan illustrious inhabitant of this our little earth. From thence they\neasily slipped from moon to moon; and a comet chancing to pass, they\nsprang upon it with all their servants and apparatus. Thus carried about\none hundred and fifty million of leagues, they met with the satellites\nof Jupiter, and arrived upon the body of the planet itself, where they\ncontinued a whole year; during which they learned some very curious\nsecrets, which would actually be sent to the press, were it not for fear\nof the gentlemen inquisitors, who have found among them some corollaries\nvery hard of digestion. Nevertheless, I have read the manuscript in the\nlibrary of the illustrious archbishop of ---- who, with that generosity\nand goodness which should ever be commended, has granted me permission\nto peruse his books; wherefore I promise he shall have a long article in\nthe next edition of Moreri, and I shall not forget the young gentlemen,\nhis sons, who give us such pleasing hopes of seeing perpetuated the race\nof their illustrious father. But to return to our travelers. When they\ntook leave of Jupiter, they traversed a space of about one hundred\nmillions of leagues, and coasting along the planet Mars, which is well\nknown to be five times smaller than our little earth, they descried two\nmoons subservient to that orb, which have escaped the observation of all\nour astronomers. I know father Castel will write, and that pleasantly\nenough, against the existence of these two moons; but I entirely refer\nmyself to those who reason by analogy. Those worthy philosophers are\nvery sensible that Mars, which is at such a distance from the sun, must\nbe in a very uncomfortable situation, without the benefit of a couple of\nmoons. Be that as it may, our gentlemen found the planet so small, that\nthey were afraid they should not find room to take a little repose; so\nthat they pursued their journey like two travelers who despise the\npaltry accommodation of a village, and push forward to the next market\ntown. But the Sirian and his companion soon repented of their delicacy,\nfor they journeyed a long time without finding a resting place, till at\nlength they discerned a small speck, which was the Earth. Coming from\nJupiter, they could not but be moved with compassion at the sight of\nthis miserable spot, upon which, however, they resolved to land, lest\nthey should be a second time disappointed. They accordingly moved toward\nthe tail of the comet, where, finding an Aurora Borealis ready to set\nsail, they embarked, and arrived on the northern coast of the Baltic on\nthe fifth day of July, new style, in the year 1737.\n\n\n\n\nIV.\n\nWHAT BEFELL THEM UPON THIS OUR GLOBE.\n\n\nHaving taken some repose, and being desirous of reconnoitering the\nnarrow field in which they were, they traversed it at once from north to\nsouth. Every step of the Sirian and his attendants measured about thirty\nthousand royal feet: whereas, the dwarf of Saturn, whose stature did not\nexceed a thousand fathoms, followed at a distance quite out of breath;\nbecause, for every single stride of his companion, he was obliged to\nmake twelve good steps at least. The reader may figure to himself, (if\nwe are allowed to make such comparisons,) a very little rough spaniel\ndodging after a captain of the Prussian grenadiers.\n\nAs those strangers walked at a good pace, they compassed the globe in\nsix and thirty hours; the sun, it is true, or rather the earth,\ndescribes the same space in the course of one day; but it must be\nobserved that it is much easier to turn upon an axis than to walk\na-foot. Behold them then returned to the spot from whence they had set\nout, after having discovered that almost imperceptible sea, which is\ncalled the Mediterranean; and the other narrow pond that surrounds this\nmole-hill, under the denomination of the great ocean; in wading through\nwhich the dwarf had never wet his mid-leg, while the other scarce\nmoistened his heel. In going and coming through both hemispheres, they\ndid all that lay in their power to discover whether or not the globe was\ninhabited. They stooped, they lay down, they groped in every corner, but\ntheir eyes and hands were not at all proportioned to the small beings\nthat crawl upon this earth; and, therefore, they could not find the\nsmallest reason to suspect that we and our fellow-citizens of this globe\nhad the honor to exist.\n\nThe dwarf, who sometimes judged too hastily, concluded at once that\nthere was no living creatures upon earth; and his chief reason was, that\nhe had seen nobody. But Micromegas, in a polite manner, made him\nsensible of the unjust conclusion:\n\n\"For,\" said he, \"with your diminutive eyes you cannot see certain stars\nof the fiftieth magnitude, which I easily perceive; and do you take it\nfor granted that no such stars exist?\"\n\n\"But I have groped with great care?\" replied the dwarf.\n\n\"Then your sense of feeling must be bad,\" said the other.\n\n\"But this globe,\" said the dwarf, \"is ill contrived; and so irregular in\nits form as to be quite ridiculous. The whole together looks like a\nchaos. Do but observe these little rivulets; not one of them runs in a\nstraight line; and these ponds which are neither round, square, nor\noval, nor indeed of any regular figure, together with these little sharp\npebbles, (meaning the mountains,) that roughen the whole surface of the\nglobe, and have torn all the skin from my feet. Besides, pray take\nnotice of the shape of the whole, how it flattens at the poles, and\nturns round the sun in an awkward oblique manner, so as that the polar\ncircles cannot possibly be cultivated. Truly, what makes me believe\nthere is no inhabitant on this sphere, is a full persuasion that no\nsensible being would live in such a disagreeable place.\"\n\n\"What then?\" said Micromegas, \"perhaps the beings that inhabit it come\nnot under that denomination; but, to all appearance, it was not made for\nnothing. Everything here seems to you irregular; because you fetch all\nyour comparisons from Jupiter or Saturn. Perhaps this is the very reason\nof the seeming confusion which you condemn; have I not told you, that in\nthe course of my travels I have always met with variety?\"\n\nThe Saturnian replied to all these arguments; and perhaps the dispute\nwould have known no end, if Micromegas, in the heat of the contest, had\nnot luckily broken the string of his diamond necklace, so that the\njewels fell to the ground; they consisted of pretty small unequal\nkarats, the largest of which weighed four hundred pounds, and the\nsmallest fifty. The dwarf, in helping to pick them up, perceived, as\nthey approached his eye, that every single diamond was cut in such a\nmanner as to answer the purpose of an excellent microscope. He therefore\ntook up a small one, about one hundred and sixty feet in diameter, and\napplied it to his eye, while Micromegas chose another of two thousand\nfive hundred feet. Though they were of excellent powers, the observers\ncould perceive nothing by their assistance, so they were altered and\nadjusted. At length, the inhabitant of Saturn discerned something almost\nimperceptible moving between two waves in the Baltic. This was no other\nthan a whale, which, in a dexterous manner, he caught with his little\nfinger, and, placing it on the nail of his thumb, showed it to the\nSyrian, who laughed heartily at the excessive smallness peculiar to\nthe inhabitants of this our globe. The Saturnian, by this time convinced\nthat our world was inhabited, began to imagine we had no other animals\nthan whales; and being a mighty debater, he forthwith set about\ninvestigating the origin and motion of this small atom, curious to know\nwhether or not it was furnished with ideas, judgment, and free will.\nMicromegas was very much perplexed upon this subject. He examined the\nanimal with the most patient attention, and the result of his inquiry\nwas, that he could see no reason to believe a soul was lodged in such a\nbody. The two travelers were actually inclined to think there was no\nsuch thing as mind in this our habitation, when, by the help of their\nmicroscope, they perceived something as large as a whale floating upon\nthe surface of the sea. It is well known that, at this period, a flight\nof philosophers were upon their return from the polar circle, where they\nhad been making observations, for which nobody has hitherto been the\nwiser. The gazettes record, that their vessel ran ashore on the coast of\nBothnia and that they with great difficulty saved their lives; but in\nthis world one can never dive to the bottom of things. For my own part,\nI will ingenuously recount the transaction just as it happened, without\nany addition of my own; and this is no small effort in a modern\nhistorian.\n\n\n\n\nV.\n\nTHE TRAVELERS CAPTURE A VESSEL.\n\n\nMicromegas stretched out his hand gently toward the place where the\nobject appeared, and advanced two fingers, which he instantly pulled\nback, for fear of being disappointed, then opening softly and shutting\nthem all at once, he very dexterously seized the ship that contained\nthose gentlemen, and placed it on his nail, avoiding too much pressure,\nwhich might have crushed the whole in pieces.\n\n\"This,\" said the Saturnian dwarf, \"is a creature very different from the\nformer.\"\n\nUpon which the Sirian placing the supposed animal in the hollow of his\nhand, the passengers and crew, who believed themselves thrown by a\nhurricane upon some rock, began to put themselves in motion. The sailors\nhaving hoisted out some casks of wine, jumped after them into the hand\nof Micromegas: the mathematicians having secured their quadrants,\nsectors, and Lapland servants, went overboard at a different place, and\nmade such a bustle in their descent, that the Sirian at length felt his\nfingers tickled by something that seemed to move. An iron bar chanced to\npenetrate about a foot deep into his forefinger; and from this prick he\nconcluded that something had issued from the little animal he held in\nhis hand; but at first he suspected nothing more: for the microscope,\nthat scarce rendered a whale and a ship visible, had no effect upon an\nobject so imperceptible as man.\n\nI do not intend to shock the vanity of any person whatever; but here I\nam obliged to beg your people of importance to consider that, supposing\nthe stature of a man to be about five feet, we mortals make just such a\nfigure upon the earth, as an animal the sixty thousandth part of a foot\nin height, would exhibit upon a bowl ten feet in circumference. When you\nreflect upon a being who could hold this whole earth in the palm of his\nhand, and is provided with organs proportioned to those we possess, you\nwill easily conceive that there must be a great variety of created\nsubstances;--and pray, what must such beings think of those battles by\nwhich a conqueror gains a small village, to lose it again in the\nsequel?\n\n[Illustration: Micromegas captures a ship.]\n\nI do not at all doubt, but if some captain of grenadiers should chance\nto read this work, he would add two large feet at least to the caps of\nhis company; but I assure him his labor will be in vain; for, do what he\nwill, he and his soldiers will never be other than infinitely diminutive\nand inconsiderable.\n\nWhat wonderful address must have been inherent in our Sirian\nphilosopher, that enabled him to perceive those atoms of which we have\nbeen speaking. When Leuwenhoek and Hartsoecker observed the first\nrudiments of which we are formed, they did not make such an astonishing\ndiscovery. What pleasure, therefore, was the portion of Micromegas, in\nobserving the motion of those little machines, in examining all their\npranks, and following them in all their operations! With what joy did he\nput his microscope into his companion's hand; and with what transport\ndid they both at once exclaim:\n\n\"I see them distinctly,--don't you see them carrying burdens, lying down\nand rising up again?\"\n\nSo saying, their hands shook with eagerness to see, and apprehension to\nlose such uncommon objects. The Saturnian, making a sudden transition\nfrom the most cautious distrust to the most excessive credulity,\nimagined he saw them engaged in their devotions and cried aloud in\nastonishment.\n\nNevertheless, he was deceived by appearances: a case too common, whether\nwe do or do not make use of microscopes.\n\n\n\n\nVI.\n\nWHAT HAPPENED IN THEIR INTERCOURSE WITH MEN.\n\n\nMicromegas being a much better observer than the dwarf, perceived\ndistinctly that those atoms spoke; and made the remark to his companion,\nwho was so much ashamed of being mistaken in his first suggestion, that\nhe would not believe such a puny species could possibly communicate\ntheir ideas: for, though he had the gift of tongues, as well as his\ncompanion, he could not hear those particles speak; and therefore\nsupposed they had no language.\n\n\"Besides, how should such imperceptible beings have the organs of\nspeech? and what in the name of Jove can they say to one another? In\norder to speak, they must have something like thought, and if they\nthink, they must surely have something equivalent to a soul. Now, to\nattribute anything like a soul to such an insect species appears a mere\nabsurdity.\"\n\n\"But just now,\" replied the Sirian, \"you believed they were engaged in\ndevotional exercises; and do you think this could be done without\nthinking, without using some sort of language, or at least some way of\nmaking themselves understood? Or do you suppose it is more difficult to\nadvance an argument than to engage in physical exercise? For my own\npart, I look upon all faculties as alike mysterious.\"\n\n\"I will no longer venture to believe or deny,\" answered the dwarf. \"In\nshort I have no opinion at all, let us endeavor to examine these\ninsects, and we will reason upon them afterward.\"\n\n\"With all my heart,\" said Micromegas, who, taking out a pair of scissors\nwhich he kept for paring his nails, cut off a paring from his thumb\nnail, of which he immediately formed a large kind of speaking trumpet,\nlike a vast tunnel, and clapped the pipe to his ear: as the\ncircumference of this machine included the ship and all the crew, the\nmost feeble voice was conveyed along the circular fibres of the nail; so\nthat, thanks to his industry, the philosopher could distinctly hear the\nbuzzing of our insects that were below. In a few hours he distinguished\narticulate sounds, and at last plainly understood the French language.\nThe dwarf heard the same, though with more difficulty.\n\nThe astonishment of our travelers increased every instant. They heard a\nnest of mites talk in a very sensible strain: and that _Lusus Natur\u00e6_?\nseemed to them inexplicable. You need not doubt but the Sirian and his\ndwarf glowed with impatience to enter into conversation with such atoms.\nMicromegas being afraid that his voice, like thunder, would deafen and\nconfound the mites, without being understood by them, saw the necessity\nof diminishing the sound; each, therefore, put into his mouth a sort of\nsmall toothpick, the slender end of which reached to the vessel. The\nSirian setting the dwarf upon his knees, and the ship and crew upon his\nnail, held down his head and spoke softly. In fine, having taken these\nand a great many more precautions, he addressed himself to them in these\nwords:\n\n\"O ye invisible insects, whom the hand of the Creator hath deigned to\nproduce in the abyss of infinite littleness! I give praise to his\ngoodness, in that he hath been pleased to disclose unto me those secrets\nthat seemed to be impenetrable.\"\n\nIf ever there was such a thing as astonishment, it seized upon the\npeople who heard this address, and who could not conceive from whence it\nproceeded. The chaplain of the ship repeated exorcisms, the sailors\nswore, and the philosophers formed a system; but, notwithstanding all\ntheir systems, they could not divine who the person was that spoke to\nthem. Then the dwarf of Saturn, whose voice was softer than that of\nMicromegas, gave them briefly to understand what species of beings they\nhad to do with. He related the particulars of their voyage from Saturn,\nmade them acquainted with the rank and quality of Monsieur Micromegas;\nand, after having pitied their smallness, asked if they had always been\nin that miserable state so near akin to annihilation; and what their\nbusiness was upon that globe which seemed to be the property of whales.\nHe also desired to know if they were happy in their situation? if they\nwere inspired with souls? and put a hundred questions of the like\nnature.\n\nA certain mathematician on board, braver than the rest, and shocked to\nhear his soul called in question, planted his quadrant, and having taken\ntwo observations of this interlocutor, said: \"You believe then, Mr.,\nwhat's your name, that because you measure from head to foot a thousand\nfathoms--\"\n\n\"A thousand fathoms!\" cried the dwarf, \"good heavens! How should he know\nthe height of my stature? A thousand fathoms! My very dimensions to a\nhair. What, measured by a mite! This atom, forsooth, is a geometrician,\nand knows exactly how tall I am; while I, who can scarce perceive him\nthrough a microscope, am utterly ignorant of his extent!\"\n\n\"Yes, I have taken your measure,\" answered the philosopher, \"and I will\nnow do the same by your tall companion.\"\n\nThe proposal was embraced: his excellency reclined upon his side; for,\nhad he stood upright, his head would have reached too far above the\nclouds. Our mathematicians planted a tall tree near him, and then, by a\nseries of triangles joined together, they discovered that the object of\ntheir observation was a strapping youth, exactly one hundred and twenty\nthousand royal feet in length. In consequence of this calculation,\nMicromegas uttered these words:\n\n\"I am now more than ever convinced that we ought to judge of nothing by\nits external magnitude. O God! who hast bestowed understanding upon such\nseemingly contemptible substances, thou canst with equal ease produce\nthat which is infinitely small, as that which is incredibly great: and\nif it be possible, that among thy works there are beings still more\ndiminutive than these, they may nevertheless, be endued with\nunderstanding superior to the intelligence of those stupendous animals I\nhave seen in heaven, a single foot of whom is larger than this whole\nglobe on which I have alighted.\"\n\nOne of the philosophers assured him that there were intelligent beings\nmuch smaller than men, and recounted not only Virgil's whole fable of\nthe bees, but also described all that Swammerdam hath discovered, and\nR\u00e9aumur dissected. In a word, he informed him that there are animals\nwhich bear the same proportion to bees, that bees bear to man; the same\nas the Sirian himself compared to those vast beings whom he had\nmentioned; and as those huge animals are to other substances, before\nwhom they would appear like so many particles of dust. Here the\nconversation became very interesting, and Micromegas proceeded in these\nwords:\n\n\"O ye intelligent atoms, in whom the Supreme Being hath been pleased to\nmanifest his omniscience and power, without all doubt your joys on this\nearth must be pure and exquisite: for, being unincumbered with matter,\nand, to all appearance, little else than soul, you must spend your lives\nin the delights of pleasure and reflection, which are the true\nenjoyments of a perfect spirit. True happiness I have no where found;\nbut certainly here it dwells.\"\n\nAt this harangue all the philosophers shook their heads, and one among\nthem, more candid than his brethren, frankly owned, that excepting a\nvery small number of inhabitants who were very little esteemed by their\nfellows, all the rest were a parcel of knaves, fools, and miserable\nwretches.\n\n\"We have matter enough,\" said he, \"to do abundance of mischief, if\nmischief comes from matter; and too much understanding, if evil flows\nfrom understanding. You must know, for example, that at this very\nmoment, while I am speaking, there are one hundred thousand animals of\nour own species, covered with hats, slaying an equal number of their\nfellow-creatures, who wear turbans; at least they are either slaying or\nbeing slain; and this hath usually been the case all over the earth from\ntime immemorial.\"\n\nThe Sirian, shuddering at this information, begged to know the cause of\nthose horrible quarrels among such a puny race; and was given to\nunderstand that the subject of the dispute was a pitiful mole-hill\n[called Palestine,] no larger than his heel. Not that any one of those\nmillions who cut one another's throats pretends to have the least claim\nto the smallest particle of that clod. The question is, whether it shall\nbelong to a certain person who is known by the name of Sultan, or to\nanother whom (for what reason I know not) they dignify with the\nappellation of Pope. Neither the one nor the other has seen or ever will\nsee the pitiful corner in question; and probably none of these wretches,\nwho so madly destroy each other, ever beheld the ruler on whose account\nthey are so mercilessly sacrificed!\n\n\"Ah, miscreants!\" cried the indignant Sirian, \"such excess of desperate\nrage is beyond conception. I have a good mind to take two or three\nsteps, and trample the whole nest of such ridiculous assassins under my\nfeet.\"\n\n\"Don't give yourself the trouble,\" replied the philosopher, \"they are\nindustrious enough in procuring their own destruction. At the end of ten\nyears the hundredth part of those wretches will not survive; for you\nmust know that, though they should not draw a sword in the cause they\nhave espoused, famine, fatigue, and intemperance, would sweep almost all\nof them from the face of the earth. Besides, the punishment should not\nbe inflicted upon them, but upon those sedentary and slothful\nbarbarians, who, from their palaces, give orders for murdering a million\nof men and then solemnly thank God for their success.\"\n\nOur traveler was moved with compassion for the entire human race, in\nwhich he discovered such astonishing contrasts. \"Since you are of the\nsmall number of the wise,\" said he, \"and in all likelihood do not engage\nyourselves in the trade of murder for hire, be so good as to tell me\nyour occupation.\"\n\n\"We anatomize flies,\" replied the philosopher, \"we measure lines, we\nmake calculations, we agree upon two or three points which we\nunderstand, and dispute upon two or three thousand that are beyond our\ncomprehension.\"\n\n\"How far,\" said the Sirian, \"do you reckon the distance between the\ngreat star of the constellation Gemini and that called Canicul\u00e6?\"\n\nTo this question all of them answered with one voice: \"Thirty-two\ndegrees and a half.\"\n\n\"And what is the distance from hence to the moon?\"\n\n\"Sixty semi-diameters of the earth.\"\n\nHe then thought to puzzle them by asking the weight of the air; but they\nanswered distinctly, that common air is about nine hundred times\nspecifically lighter than an equal column of the lightest water, and\nnineteen hundred times lighter than current gold. The little dwarf of\nSaturn, astonished at their answers, was now tempted to believe those\npeople sorcerers, who, but a quarter of an hour before, he would not\nallow were inspired with souls.\n\n\"Well,\" said Micromegas, \"since you know so well what is without you,\ndoubtless you are still more perfectly acquainted with that which is\nwithin. Tell me what is the soul, and how do your ideas originate?\"\n\nHere the philosophers spoke altogether as before; but each was of a\ndifferent opinion. The eldest quoted Aristotle; another pronounced the\nname of Descartes; a third mentioned Mallebranche; a fourth Leibnitz;\nand a fifth Locke. An old peripatecian lifting up his voice, exclaimed\nwith an air of confidence. \"The soul is perfection and reason, having\npower to be such as it is, as Aristotle expressly declares, page 633, of\nthe Louvre edition:\n\n     \"_\u0395\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03bb\u03b5\u03c7\u03b5\u1fd6\u03ac \u03c4\u03b9\u03c2 \u1f10\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9, \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03bb\u03cc\u03b3\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c4\u03bf\u1f56 \u03b4\u03cd\u03bd\u03b1\u03bc\u03b9\u03bd \u1f13\u03c7\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2_\n      _\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03bf\u1f57\u03b4\u03b9 \u03b5\u1f37 \u03c4\u03b1\u1f37_.\"\n\n\"I am not very well versed in Greek,\" said the giant.\n\n\"Nor I either,\" replied the philosophical mite.\n\n\"Why then do you quote that same Aristotle in Greek?\" resumed the\nSirian.\n\n\"Because,\" answered the other, \"it is but reasonable we should quote\nwhat we do not comprehend in a language we do not understand.\"\n\nHere the Cartesian interposing: \"The soul,\" said he, \"is a pure spirit\nor intelligence, which hath received before birth all the metaphysical\nideas; but after that event it is obliged to go to school and learn\nanew the knowledge which it hath lost.\"\n\n\"So it was necessary,\" replied the animal of eight leagues, \"that thy\nsoul should be learned before birth, in order to be so ignorant when\nthou hast got a beard upon thy chin. But what dost thou understand by\nspirit?\"\n\n\"I have no idea of it,\" said the philosopher, \"indeed it is supposed to\nbe immaterial.\"\n\n\"At least, thou knowest what matter is?\" resumed the Sirian.\n\n\"Perfectly well,\" answered the other. \"For example: that stone is gray,\nis of a certain figure, has three dimensions, specific weight, and\ndivisibility.\"\n\n\"I want to know,\" said the giant, \"what that object is, which, according\nto thy observation, hath a gray color, weight, and divisibility. Thou\nseest a few qualities, but dost thou know the nature of the thing\nitself?\"\n\n\"Not I, truly,\" answered the Cartesian.\n\nUpon which the Sirian admitted that he also was ignorant in regard to\nthis subject. Then addressing himself to another sage, who stood upon\nhis thumb, he asked \"what is the soul? and what are her functions?\"\n\n\"Nothing at all,\" replied this disciple of Mallebranche; \"God hath made\neverything for my convenience. In him I see everything, by him I act; he\nis the universal agent, and I never meddle in his work.\"\n\n\"That is being a nonentity indeed,\" said the Sirian sage; and then,\nturning to a follower of Leibnitz, he exclaimed: \"Hark ye, friend, what\nis thy opinion of the soul?\"\n\n\"In my opinion,\" answered this metaphysician, \"the soul is the hand that\npoints at the hour, while my body does the office of the clock; or, if\nyou please, the soul is the clock, and the body is the pointer; or\nagain, my soul is the mirror of the universe, and my body the frame. All\nthis is clear and uncontrovertible.\"\n\nA little partisan of Locke who chanced to be present, being asked his\nopinion on the same subject, said: \"I do not know by what power I think;\nbut well I know that I should never have thought without the assistance\nof my senses. That there are immaterial and intelligent substances I do\nnot at all doubt; but that it is impossible for God to communicate the\nfaculty of thinking to matter, I doubt very much. I revere the eternal\npower, to which it would ill become me to prescribe bounds. I affirm\nnothing, and am contented to believe that many more things are possible\nthan are usually thought so.\"\n\nThe Sirian smiled at this declaration, and did not look upon the author\nas the least sagacious of the company: and as for the dwarf of Saturn,\nhe would have embraced this adherent of Locke, had it not been for the\nextreme disproportion in their respective sizes. But unluckily there was\nanother animalcule in a square cap, who, taking the word from all his\nphilosophical brethren, affirmed that he knew the whole secret, which\nwas contained in the abridgment of St. Thomas. He surveyed the two\ncelestial strangers from top to toe, and maintained to their faces that\ntheir persons, their fashions, their suns and their stars, were created\nsolely for the use of man. At this wild assertion our two travelers were\nseized with a fit of that uncontrollable laughter, which (according to\nHomer) is the portion of the immortal gods: their bellies quivered,\ntheir shoulders rose and fell, and, during these convulsions, the vessel\nfell from the Sirian's nail into the Saturnian's pocket, where these\nworthy people searched for it a long time with great diligence. At\nlength, having found the ship and set everything to rights again, the\nSirian resumed the discourse with those diminutive mites, and promised\nto compose for them a choice book of philosophy which would demonstrate\nthe very essence of things. Accordingly, before his departure, he made\nthem a present of the book, which was brought to the Academy of Sciences\nat Paris, but when the old secretary came to open it he saw nothing but\nblank paper, upon which:--\n\n\"Ay, ay,\" said he, \"this is just what I suspected.\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE WORLD AS IT GOES.\n\nTHE VISION OF BABOUC.\n\n\n[Illustration: The spiritual rulers of Persepolis.][1]\n\nAmong the genii who preside over the empires of the earth, Ithuriel held\none of the first ranks, and had the department of Upper Asia. He one\nmorning descended into the abode of Babouc, the Scythian, who dwelt on\nthe banks of the Oxus, and said to him:\n\n\"Babouc, the follies and vices of the Persians have drawn upon them our\nindignation. Yesterday an assembly of the genii of Upper Asia was held,\nto consider whether we would chastise Persepolis or destroy it entirely.\nGo to that city; examine everything; return and give me a faithful\naccount; and, according to thy report, I will then determine whether to\ncorrect or extirpate the inhabitants.\"\n\n\"But, my lord,\" said Babouc with great humility, \"I have never been in\nPersia, nor do I know a single person in that country.\"\n\n\"So much the better,\" said the angel, \"thou wilt be the more impartial:\nthou hast received from heaven the spirit of discernment, to which I now\nadd the power of inspiring confidence. Go, see, hear, observe, and fear\nnothing. Thou shalt everywhere meet with a favorable reception.\"\n\nBabouc mounted his camel, and set out with his servants. After having\ntraveled some days, he met, near the plains of Senaar, the Persian army,\nwhich was going to attack the forces of India. He first addressed\nhimself to a soldier, whom he found at a distance from the main army,\nand asked him what was the occasion of the war?\n\n\"By all the gods,\" said the soldier, \"I know nothing of the matter. It\nis none of my business. My trade is to kill and to be killed, to get a\nlivelihood. It is of no consequence to me whom I serve. To-morrow,\nperhaps, I may go over to the Indian camp; for it is said that they give\ntheir soldiers nearly half a copper drachma a day more than we have in\nthis cursed service of Persia. If thou desirest to know why we fight,\nspeak to my captain.\"\n\nBabouc, having given the soldier a small present, entered the camp. He\nsoon became acquainted with the captain, and asked him the cause of the\nwar.\n\n\"How canst thou imagine that I should know it?\" said the captain, \"or of\nwhat importance is it to me? I live about two hundred leagues from\nPersepolis: I hear that war is declared. I instantly leave my family,\nand, having nothing else to do, go, according to our custom, to make my\nfortune, or to fall by a glorious death.\"\n\n\"But are not thy companions,\" said Babouc, \"a little better informed\nthan thee?\"\n\n\"No,\" said the officer, \"there are none but our principal satraps that\nknow the true cause of our cutting one another's throats.\"\n\nBabouc, struck with astonishment, introduced himself to the generals,\nand soon became familiarly acquainted with them. At last one of them\nsaid:\n\n\"The cause of this war, which for twenty years past hath desolated Asia,\nsprang originally from a quarrel between a eunuch belonging to one of\nthe concubines of the great king of Persia, and the clerk of a factory\nbelonging to the great king of India. The dispute was about a claim\nwhich amounted nearly to the thirtieth part of a daric. Our first\nminister, and the representative of India, maintained the rights of\ntheir respective masters with becoming dignity. The dispute grew warm.\nBoth parties sent into the field an army of a million of soldiers. This\narmy must be recruited every year with upwards of four hundred thousand\nmen. Massacres, burning of houses, ruin and devastation, are daily\nmultiplied; the universe suffers; and their mutual animosity still\ncontinues. The first ministers of the two nations frequently protest\nthat they have nothing in view but the happiness of mankind; and every\nprotestation is attended with the destruction of a town, or the\ndesolation of a province.\"\n\nNext day, on a report being spread that peace was going to be concluded,\nthe Persian and Indian generals made haste to come to an engagement. The\nbattle was long and bloody. Babouc beheld every crime, and every\nabomination. He was witness to the arts and stratagems of the principal\nsatraps, who did all that lay in their power to expose their general to\nthe disgrace of a defeat. He saw officers killed by their own troops,\nand soldiers stabbing their already expiring comrades in order to strip\nthem of a few bloody garments torn and covered with dirt. He entered the\nhospitals to which they were conveying the wounded, most of whom died\nthrough the inhuman negligence of those who were well paid by the king\nof Persia to assist these unhappy men.\n\n\"Are these men,\" cried Babouc, \"or are they wild beasts? Ah! I plainly\nsee that Persepolis will be destroyed.\"\n\nFull of this thought, he went over to the camp of the Indians, where,\naccording to the prediction of the genii, he was as well received as in\nthat of the Persians; but he saw there the same crimes which had already\nfilled him with horror.\n\n\"Oh!\" said he to himself, \"if the angel Ithuriel should exterminate the\nPersians, the angel of India must certainly destroy the Indians.\"\n\nBut being afterward more particularly informed of all that passed in\nboth armies, he heard of such acts of generosity, humanity, and\ngreatness of soul, as at once surprised and charmed him:\n\n\"Unaccountable mortals! as ye are,\" cried he, \"how can you thus unite so\nmuch baseness and so much grandeur, so many virtues and so many vices?\"\n\nMeanwhile the peace was proclaimed; and the generals of the two armies,\nneither of whom had gained a complete victory, but who, for their own\nprivate interest, had shed the blood of so many of their\nfellow-creatures, went to solicit their courts for rewards. The peace\nwas celebrated in public writings which announced the return of virtue\nand happiness to the earth.\n\n\"God be praised,\" said Babouc, \"Persepolis will now be the abode of\nspotless innocence, and will not be destroyed, as the cruel genii\nintended. Let us haste without delay to the capital of Asia.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nHe entered that immense city by the ancient gate, which was entirely\nbarbarous, and offended the eye by its disagreeable rusticity. All that\npart of the town savored of the time when it was built; for,\nnotwithstanding the obstinacy of men in praising ancient at the expense\nof modern times, it must be owned that the first essays in every art are\nrude and unfinished.\n\nBabouc mingled in a crowd of people composed of the most ignorant, dirty\nand deformed of both sexes, who were thronging with a stupid air into a\nlarge and gloomy inclosure. By the constant hum; by the gestures of the\npeople; by the money which some persons gave to others for the liberty\nof sitting down, he imagined that he was in a market, where chairs were\nsold: but observing several women fall down on their knees with an\nappearance of looking directly before them, while in reality they were\nleering at the men by their sides, he was soon convinced that he was in\na temple. Shrill, hoarse, savage and discordant voices made the vault\nre-echo with ill articulated sounds, that produced the same effect as\nthe braying of asses, when, in the plains of Pictavia, they answer the\ncornet that calls them together. He stopped his ears; but he was ready\nto shut his mouth and hold his nose, when he saw several laborers enter\ninto the temple with picks and spades, who removed a large stone, and\nthrew up the earth on both sides, from whence exhaled a pestilential\nvapor. At last some others approached, deposited a dead body in the\nopening, and replaced the stone upon it.\n\n\"What!\" cried Babouc, \"do these people bury their dead in the place\nwhere they adore the deity? What! are their temples paved with\ncarcasses? I am no longer surprised at those pestilential diseases\nthat frequently depopulate Persepolis. The putrefaction of the dead, and\nthe infected breath of such numbers of the living, assembled and crowded\ntogether in the same place, are sufficient to poison the whole\nterrestial globe. Oh! what an abominable city is Persepolis! The angels\nprobably intend to destroy it in order to build a more beautiful one in\nits place, and to people it with inhabitants who are more virtuous and\nbetter singers. Providence may have its reasons for so doing; to its\ndisposal let us leave all future events.\"\n\n[Illustration: Burying the dead in churches.--\"What!\" cried Babouc, \"do\nthese people bury their dead in the place where they adore the deity?\nWhat! are their temples paved with carcasses?\"]\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nMeanwhile the sun approached his meridian height. Babouc was to dine at\nthe other end of the city with a lady for whom her husband, an officer\nin the army, had given him some letters: but he first took several turns\nin Persepolis, where he saw other temples, better built and more richly\nadorned, filled with a polite audience, and resounding with harmonious\nmusic. He beheld public fountains, which, though ill-placed, struck the\neye by their beauty; squares where the best kings that had governed\nPersia seemed to breathe in bronze, and others where he heard the people\ncrying out:\n\n\"When shall we see our beloved master?\"\n\nHe admired the magnificent bridges built over the river; the superb and\ncommodious quays; the palaces raised on both sides; and an immense\nhouse, where thousands of old soldiers, covered with scars and crowned\nwith victory, offered their daily praises to the god of armies. At last\nhe entered the house of the lady, who, with a set of fashionable people,\nwaited his company to dinner. The house was neat and elegant; the repast\ndelicious; the lady young, beautiful, witty, and engaging; and the\ncompany worthy of her; and Babouc every moment said to himself:\n\n\"The angel Ithuriel has little regard for the world, or he would never\nthink of destroying such a charming city.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIn the meantime he observed that the lady, who had begun by tenderly\nasking news about her husband, spoke more tenderly to a young magi,\ntoward the conclusion of the repast. He saw a magistrate, who, in\npresence of his wife, paid his court with great vivacity to a widow,\nwhile the indulgent widow held out her hand to a young citizen,\nremarkable for his modesty and graceful appearance.\n\nBabouc then began to fear that the genius Ithuriel had but too much\nreason for destroying Persepolis. The talent he possessed of gaining\nconfidence let him that same day into all the secrets of the lady. She\nconfessed to him her affection for the young magi, and assured him that\nin all the houses in Persepolis he would meet with similar examples of\nattachment. Babouc concluded that such a society could not possibly\nsurvive: that jealousy, discord, and vengeance must desolate every\nhouse; that tears and blood must be daily shed; and, _in fine_, that\nIthuriel would do well to destroy immediately a city abandoned to\ncontinual disasters.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nSuch were the gloomy ideas that possessed his mind, when a grave man in\na black gown appeared at the gate and humbly begged to speak to the\nyoung magistrate. Phis stripling, without rising or taking the least\nnotice of the old gentleman, gave him some papers with a haughty and\ncareless air, and then dismissed him. Babouc asked who this man was. The\nmistress of the house said to him in a low voice:\n\n\"He is one of the best advocates in the city, and hath studied the law\nthese fifty years. The other, who is but twenty-five years of age, and\nhas only been a satrap of the law for two days, hath ordered him to make\nan extract of a process he is going to determine, though he has not as\nyet examined it.\"\n\n\"This giddy youth acts wisely,\" said Babouc, \"in asking counsel of an\nold man. But why is not the old man himself the judge?\"\n\n\"Thou art surely in jest,\" said they; \"those who have grown old in\nlaborious and inferior posts are never raised to places of dignity. This\nyoung man has a great post, because his father is rich; and the right of\ndispensing justice is purchased here like a farm.\"\n\n\"O unhappy city!\" cried Babouc, \"this is surely the height of anarchy\nand confusion. Those who have thus purchased the right of judging will\ndoubtless sell their judgments; nothing do I see here but an abyss of\niniquity!\"\n\nWhile he was thus expressing his grief and surprise, a young warrior,\nwho that very day had returned from the army, said to him:\n\n\"Why wouldst thou not have seats in the courts of justice offered for\nsale? I myself purchased the right of braving death at the head of two\nthousand men who are under my command. It has this year cost me forty\ndaracs of gold to lie on the earth thirty nights successively in a red\ndress, and at last to receive two wounds with an arrow, of which I still\nfeel the smart. If I ruin myself to serve the emperor of Persia, whom I\nnever saw, the satrap of the law may well pay something for enjoying the\npleasure of giving audience to pleaders.\"\n\nBabouc was filled with indignation, and could not help condemning a\ncountry, where the highest posts in the army and the law were exposed\nfor sale. He at once concluded that the inhabitants must be entirely\nignorant of the art of war, and the laws of equity; and that, though\nIthuriel should not destroy them, they must soon be ruined by their\ndetestable administration.\n\nHe was still further confirmed in his bad opinion by the arrival of a\nfat man, who, after saluting all the company with great familiarity,\nwent up to the young officer and said:\n\n\"I can only lend thee fifty thousand darics of gold; for indeed the\ntaxes of the empire have this year brought me in but three hundred\nthousand.\"\n\nBabouc inquired into the character of this man who complained of having\ngained so little, and was informed that in Persepolis there were forty\nplebian kings who held the empire of Persia by lease, and paid a small\ntribute to the monarch.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAfter dinner he went into one of the most superb temples in the city,\nand seated himself amidst a crowd of men and women, who had come thither\nto pass away the time. A magi appeared in a machine elevated above the\nheads of the people, and talked a long time of vice and virtue. He\ndivided into several parts what needed no division at all: he proved\nmethodically what was sufficiently clear, and he taught what everybody\nknew. He threw himself into a passion with great composure, and went\naway perspiring and out of breath. The assembly then awoke and imagined\nthey had been present at a very instructive discourse. Babouc said:\n\n\"This man had done his best to tire two or three hundred of his\nfellow-citizens; but his intention was good, and there is nothing in\nthis that should occasion the destruction of Persepolis.\"\n\nUpon leaving the assembly he was conducted to a public entertainment,\nwhich was exhibited every day in the year. It was in a kind of great\nhall, at the end of which appeared a palace. The most beautiful women of\nPersepolis and the most considerable satraps were ranged in order, and\nformed so fine a spectacle that Babouc at first believed that this was\nall the entertainment. Two or three persons, who seemed to be kings and\nqueens, soon appeared in the vestibule of their palace. Their language\nwas very different from that of the people; it was measured, harmonious,\nand sublime. Nobody slept. The audience kept a profound silence which\nwas only interrupted by expressions of sensibility and admiration. The\nduty of kings, the love of virtue, and the dangers arising from\nunbridled passions, were all described by such lively and affecting\nstrokes, that Babouc shed tears. He doubted not but that these heroes\nand heroines, these kings and queens whom he had just heard, were the\npreachers of the empire; he even purposed to engage Ithuriel to come and\nhear them, being content that such a spectacle would forever reconcile\nhim to the city.\n\nAs soon as the entertainment was finished, he resolved to visit the\nprincipal queen, who had recommended such pure and noble morals in the\npalace. He desired to be introduced to her majesty, and was led up a\nnarrow staircase to an ill-furnished apartment in the second story,\nwhere he found a woman in a mean dress, who said to him with a noble and\npathetic air:\n\n\"This employment does not afford me a sufficient maintenance. I want\nmoney, and without money there is no comfort.\"\n\nBabouc gave her an hundred darics of gold, saying:\n\n\"Had there been no other evil in the city but this, Ithuriel would have\nbeen to blame for being so much offended.\"\n\nFrom thence he went to spend the evening at the house of a tradesman\nwho dealt in magnificent trifles. He was conducted thither by a man of\nsense, with whom he had contracted an acquaintance. He bought whatever\npleased his fancy; and the toy man with great politeness sold him\neverything for more than it was worth. On his return home his friends\nshowed him how much he had been cheated. Babouc set down the name of the\ntradesman in his pocket-book, in order to point him out to Ithuriel as\nan object of peculiar vengeance on the day when the city should be\npunished. As he was writing, he heard somebody knock at the door: this\nwas the toy man himself, who came to restore him his purse, which he had\nleft by mistake on the counter.\n\n\"How canst thou,\" cried Babouc, \"be so generous and faithful, when thou\nhast had the assurance to sell me these trifles for four times their\nvalue?\"\n\n\"There is not a tradesman,\" replied the merchant, \"of ever so little\nnote in the city, that would not have returned thee thy purse; but\nwhoever said that I sold thee these trifles for four times their value\nis greatly mistaken: I sold them for ten times their value; and this is\nso true, that wert thou to sell them again in a month hence, thou\nwouldst not get even this tenth part. But nothing is more just. It is\nthe variable fancies of men that set a value on these baubles; it is\nthis fancy that maintains an hundred workmen whom I employ; it is this\nthat gives me a fine house and a handsome chariot and horses; it is\nthis, in fine, that excites industry, encourages taste, promotes\ncirculation, and produces abundance.\n\n\"I sell the same trifles to the neighboring nation at a much higher rate\nthan I have sold them to thee, and by these means I am useful to the\nempire.\"\n\nBabouc, after having reflected a moment, erased the tradesman's name\nfrom his tablets.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nBabouc, not knowing as yet what to think of Persepolis, resolved to\nvisit the magi and the men of letters; for, as the one studied wisdom\nand the other religion, he hoped that they in conjunction would obtain\nmercy for the rest of the people. Accordingly, he went next morning into\na college of magi. The archimandrite confessed to him, that he had an\nhundred thousand crowns a year for having taken the vow of poverty, and\nthat he enjoyed a very extensive empire in virtue of his vow of\nhumility; after which he left him with an inferior brother, who did him\nthe honors of the place.\n\nWhile the brother was showing him the magnificence of this house of\npenitence, a report was spread abroad that Babouc was come to reform all\nthese houses. He immediately received petitions from each of them, the\nsubstance of which was, \"Preserve us and destroy all the rest.\" On\nhearing their apologies, all these societies were absolutely necessary:\non hearing their mutual accusations, they all deserved to be abolished.\nHe was surprised to find that all the members of these societies were so\nextremely desirous of edifying the world, that they wished to have it\nentirely under their dominion.\n\nSoon after a little man appeared, who was a demi-magi, and who said to\nhim:\n\n\"I plainly see that the work is going to be accomplished: for Zerdust is\nreturned to earth; and the little girls prophecy, pinching and whipping\nthemselves. We therefore implore thy protection against the great lama.\"\n\n\"What!\" said Babouc, \"against the royal pontiff, who resides at Tibet?\"\n\n\"Yes, against him, himself.\"\n\n\"What! you are then making war upon him, and raising armies!\"\n\n\"No, but he says that man is a free agent, and we deny it. We have\nwritten several pamphlets against him, which he never read. Hardly has\nhe heard our name mentioned. He has only condemned us in the same manner\nas a man orders the trees in his garden to be cleared from\ncaterpillars.\"\n\nBabouc was incensed at the folly of these men who made profession of\nwisdom; and at the intrigues of those who had renounced the world; and\nat the ambition, pride and avarice of such as taught humility and a\ndisinterested spirit: from all which he concluded that Ithuriel had good\nreason to destroy the whole race.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nOn his return home, he sent for some new books to alleviate his grief,\nand in order to exhilarate his spirits, invited some men of letters to\ndine with him; when, like wasps attracted by a pot of honey, there came\ntwice as many as he desired. These parasites were equally eager to eat\nand to speak; they praised two sorts of persons, the dead and\nthemselves; but none of their contemporaries, except the master of the\nhouse. If any of them happened to drop a smart and witty expression, the\nrest cast down their eyes and bit their lips out of mere vexation that\nit had not been said by themselves. They had less dissimulation than the\nmagi, because they had not such grand objects of ambition. Each of them\nbehaved at once with all the meanness of a valet and all the dignity of\na great man. They said to each other's face the most insulting things,\nwhich they took for strokes of wit. They had some knowledge of the\ndesign of Babouc's commission; one of them entreated him in a low voice\nto extirpate an author who had not praised him sufficiently about five\nyears before; another requested the ruin of a citizen who had never\nlaughed at his comedies; and the third demanded the destruction of the\nacademy because he had not been able to get admitted into it. The repast\nbeing ended, each of them departed by himself; for in the whole crowd\nthere were not two men that could endure the company or conversation of\neach other, except at the houses of the rich, who invited them to their\ntables. Babouc thought that it would be no great loss to the public if\nall these vermin were destroyed in the general catastrophe.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nHaving now got rid of these men of letters, he began to read some new\nbooks, where he discovered the true spirit by which his guests had been\nactuated. He observed with particular indignation those slanderous\ngazettes, those archives of bad taste, dictated by envy, baseness, and\nhunger; those ungenerous satires, where the vulture is treated with\nlenity, and the dove torn in pieces; and those dry and insipid romances,\nfilled with characters of women to whom the author was an utter\nstranger.\n\nAll these detestable writings he committed to the flames, and went to\npass the evening in walking. In this excursion he was introduced to an\nold man possessed of great learning, who had not come to increase the\nnumber of his parasites. This man of letters always fled from crowds;\nhe understood human nature, availed himself of his knowledge, and\nimparted it to others with great discretion. Babouc told him how much he\nwas grieved at what he had seen and read.\n\n\"Thou hast read very despicable performances,\" said the man of letters;\n\"but in all times, in all countries, and in all kinds of literature, the\nbad swarm and the good are rare. Thou hast received into thy house the\nvery dregs of pedantry. In all professions, those who are least worthy\nof appearing are always sure to present themselves with the greatest\nimpudence. The truly wise live among themselves in retirement and\ntranquillity; and we have still some men and some books worthy of thy\nattention.\"\n\nWhile he was thus speaking, they were joined by another man of letters;\nand the conversation became so entertaining and instructive, so elevated\nabove vulgar prejudices, and so conformable to virtue, that Babouc\nacknowledged he had never heard the like.\n\n\"These are men,\" said he to himself, \"whom the angel Ithuriel will not\npresume to touch, or he must be a merciless being indeed.\"\n\nThough reconciled to men of letters, he was still enraged against the\nrest of the nation.\n\n\"Thou art a stranger,\" said the judicious person who was talking to him;\n\"abuses present themselves to thy eyes in crowds, while the good, which\nlies concealed, and which is even sometimes the result of these very\nabuses, escapes thy observation.\"\n\nHe then learned that among men of letters there were some who were free\nfrom envy; and that even among the magi themselves there were some men\nof virtue. In fine, he concluded that these great bodies, which by their\nmutual shocks seemed to threaten their common ruin, were at bottom very\nsalutary institutions; that each society of magi was a check upon its\nrivals; and that though these rivals might differ in some speculative\npoints, they all taught the same morals, instructed the people, and\nlived in subjection to the laws; not unlike to those preceptors who\nwatch over the heir of a family while the master of the house watches\nover them. He conversed with several of these magi, and found them\npossessed of exalted souls. He likewise learned that even among the\nfools who pretended to make war on the great lama there had been some\nmen of distinguished merit; and from all these particulars he\nconjectured that it might be with the manners of Persepolis as it was\nwith the buildings; some of which moved his pity, while others filled\nhim with admiration.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nHe said to the man of letters:\n\n\"I plainly see that these magi, whom I at first imagined to be so\ndangerous, are in reality extremely useful; especially when a wise\ngovernment hinders them from rendering themselves too necessary; but\nthou wilt at least acknowledge that your young magistrates, who purchase\nthe office of a judge as soon as they can mount a horse, must display in\ntheir tribunals the most ridiculous impertinence and the most iniquitous\nperverseness. It would doubtless be better to give these places\ngratuitously to those old civilians who have spent their lives in the\nstudy of the law.\"\n\nThe man of letters replied:\n\n\"Thou hast seen our army before thy arrival at Persepolis; thou knowest\nthat our young officers fight with great bravery, though they buy their\nposts; perhaps thou wilt find that our young magistrates do not give\nwrong decisions, though they purchase the right of dispensing justice.\"\n\nHe led him next day to the grand tribunal, where an affair of great\nimportance was to be decided. The cause was known to all the world. All\nthe old advocates that spoke on the subject were wavering and unsettled\nin their opinions. They quoted an hundred laws, none of which were\napplicable to the question. They considered the matter in a hundred\ndifferent lights, but never in its true point of view. The judges were\nmore quick in their decisions than the advocates in raising doubts. They\nwere unanimous in their sentiments. They decided justly, because they\nfollowed the light of reason. The others reasoned falsely because they\nonly consulted their books.\n\nBabouc concluded that the best things frequently arose from abuses. He\nsaw the same day that the riches of the receivers of the public revenue,\nat which he had been so much offended, were capable of producing an\nexcellent effect; for the emperor having occasion for money, he found in\nan hour by their means what he could not have procured in six months by\nthe ordinary methods. He saw that those great clouds, swelled with the\ndews of the earth, restored in plentiful showers what they had thence\nderived. Besides, the children of these new gentlemen, who were\nfrequently better educated than those of the most ancient families, were\nsometimes more useful members of society; for he whose father hath been\na good accountant may easily become a good judge, a brave warrior, and\nan able statesman.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nBabouc was insensibly brought to excuse the avarice of the farmer of the\nrevenues, who in reality was not more avaricious than other men, and\nbesides was extremely necessary. He overlooked the folly of those who\nruined themselves in order to obtain a post in the law or army; a folly\nthat produces great magistrates and heroes. He forgave the envy of men\nof letters, among whom there were some that enlightened the world; and\nhe was reconciled to the ambitious and intriguing magi, who were\npossessed of more great virtues than little vices. But he had still many\ncauses of complaint. The gallantries of the ladies especially, and the\nfatal effects which these must necessarily produce, filled him with fear\nand terror.\n\nAs he was desirous of prying into the characters of men of every\ncondition, he went to wait on a minister of state; but trembled all the\nway, lest some wife should be assassinated by her husband in his\npresence. Having arrived at the statesman's, he was obliged to remain\ntwo hours in the anti-chamber before his name was sent in, and two hours\nmore after that was done. In this interval, he resolved to recommend to\nthe angel Ithuriel both the minister and his insolent porters. The\nanti-chamber was filled with ladies of every rank, magi of all colors,\njudges, merchants, officers, and pedants, and all of them complained of\nthe minister. The miser and the usurer said:\n\n\"Doubtless this man plunders the provinces.\"\n\nThe capricious reproached him with fickleness; the voluptuary said:\n\n\"He thinks of nothing but his pleasure.\"\n\nThe factious hoped to see him soon ruined by a cabal; and the women\nflattered themselves that they should soon have a younger minister.\n\nBabouc heard their conversation, and could not help saying:\n\n\"This is surely a happy man; he hath all his enemies in his\nanti-chamber; he crushes with his power those that envy his grandeur; he\nbeholds those who detest him groveling at his feet.\"\n\nAt length he was admitted into the presence-chamber, where he saw a\nlittle old man bending under the weight of years and business, but still\nlively and full of spirits.\n\nThe minister was pleased with Babouc, and to Babouc he appeared a man of\ngreat merit. The conversation became interesting. The minister confessed\nthat he was very unhappy; that he passed for rich, while in reality he\nwas poor; that he was believed to be all-powerful, and yet was\nconstantly contradicted; that he had obliged none but a parcel of\nungrateful wretches; and that, in the course of forty years labor, he\nhad hardly enjoyed a moment's rest. Babouc was moved with his\nmisfortunes; and thought that if this man had been guilty of some\nfaults, and Ithuriel had a mind to banish him, he ought not to cut him\noff, but to leave him in possession of his place.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nWhile Babouc was talking to the minister, the beautiful lady with whom\nhe had dined entered hastily, her eyes and countenance showing all the\nsymptoms of grief and indignation. She burst into reproaches against the\nstatesman; she shed tears; she complained bitterly that her husband had\nbeen refused a place to which his birth allowed him to aspire, and which\nhe had fully merited by his wounds and his service. She expressed\nherself with such force; she uttered her complaints with such a graceful\nair; she overthrew objections with so much address, and enforced her\narguments with so much eloquence, that she did not leave the chamber\ntill she had made her husband's fortune.\n\nBabouc gave her his hand, and said: \"Is it possible, madam, that thou\ncanst take so much pains to serve a man whom thou dost not love, and\nfrom whom thou hast everything to fear?\"\n\n\"A man whom I do not love!\" cried she \"know, sir, that my husband is the\nbest friend I have in the world; and there is nothing I would not\nsacrifice for him, except my own inclinations.\"\n\nThe lady conducted Babouc to her own house. The husband, who had at last\narrived overwhelmed with grief, received his wife with transports of joy\nand gratitude. He embraced by turns his wife, the little magi, and\nBabouc. Wit, harmony, cheerfulness, and all the graces, embellished the\nrepast.\n\nBabouc, though a Scythian, and sent by a geni, found, that should he\ncontinue much longer in Persepolis, he would forget even the angel\nIthuriel. He began to grow fond of a city, the inhabitants of which were\npolite, affable, and beneficent, though fickle, slanderous, and vain. He\nwas much afraid that Persepolis would be condemned. He was even afraid\nto give in his account.\n\nThis, however, he did in the following manner. He caused a little\nstatue, composed of different metals, of earth, and stones, the most\nprecious and the most vile, to be cast by one of the best founders in\nthe city, and carried it to Ithuriel.\n\n\"Wilt thou break,\" said he, \"this pretty statue, because it is not\nwholly composed of gold and diamonds?\"\n\nIthuriel immediately understood his meaning, and resolved to think no\nmore of punishing Persepolis, but to leave \"The world as it goes.\"\n\n\"For,\" said he, \"if all is not well, all is passable.\"\n\nThus Persepolis was suffered to remain; nor did Babouc complain like\nJonas, who, [according to the scriptures,] was highly incensed at the\npreservation of Nineveh.\n\n\n[1] When Babouc visited the college of the magi, \"the archimandrite [the\nchief of the monks] confessed to him, that he had an hundred thousand\ncrowns a year for having taken the vow of poverty, and that he enjoyed a\nvery extensive empire in virtue of his vow of humility.\" (See page\n365.)--E.\n\n[Illustration: The scales of justice.]\n\n\n\n\nTHE BLACK AND THE WHITE.\n\n\n\n[Illustration: Procession of Souls to Judgment with Good and Evil\nGenii. From Frieze in the Grotto del Cardinale.]\n\n\nThe adventure of the youthful Rustan is generally known throughout the\nwhole province of Candahar. He was the only son of a Mirza of that\ncountry. The title of Mirza there is much the same as that of Marquis\namong us, or that of Baron among the Germans. The mirza, his father, had\na handsome fortune. Young Rustan was to be married to a mirzasse, or\nyoung lady of his own rank. The two families earnestly desired their\nunion. Rustan was to become the comfort of his parents, to make his wife\nhappy, and to live blest in her possession.\n\nBut he had unfortunately seen the princess of Cachemire at the fair of\nKaboul, which is the most considerable fair in the world, and much more\nfrequented than those of Bassora and Astracan. The occasion that brought\nthe old prince of Cachemire to the fair with his daughter was as\nfollows:\n\nHe had lost the two most precious curiosities of his treasury; one of\nthem was a diamond as thick as a man's thumb, upon which the figure of\nhis daughter was engraved by an art which was then possessed by the\nIndians, and has since been lost; the other was a javelin, which went of\nitself wherever its owner thought proper to send it. This is nothing\nvery extraordinary among us, but it was thought so at Cachemire.\n\nA fakir belonging to his highness stole these two curiosities; he\ncarried them to the princess:\n\n\"Keep these two curiosities with the utmost care; your destiny depends\nupon them;\" said he, and then departed.\n\nThe Duke of Cachemire, in despair, resolved to visit the fair of Kaboul,\nin order to see whether there might not, among the merchants who go\nthither from all quarters of the world, be some one possessed of his\ndiamond and his weapon. The princess carried his diamond well fastened\nto her girdle; but the javelin, which she could not so easily hide, she\nhad carefully locked up at Cachemire, in a large chest.\n\nRustan and she saw each other at Kaboul. They loved one another with all\nthe sincerity of persons of their age, and all the tenderness of\naffection natural to those of their country. The princess gave Rustan\nher diamond as a pledge of her love, and he promised at his departure to\ngo incognito to Cachemire, in order to pay her a visit.\n\nThe young mirza had two favorites, who served him as secretaries,\ngrooms, stewards, and valets de chambre. The name of one was Topaz; he\nwas handsome, well-shaped, fair as a Circassian beauty, as mild and\nready to serve as an Armenian, and as wise as a Gueber. The name of the\nother was Ebene; he was a very beautiful negro, more active and\nindustrious than Topaz, and one that thought nothing difficult. The\nyoung mirza communicated his intention of traveling to these. Topaz\nendeavored to dissuade him from it, with the circumspect zeal of a\nservant who was unwilling to offend him. He represented to him the great\ndanger to which he exposed himself. He asked him how he could leave two\nfamilies in despair? how he could pierce the hearts of his parents? He\nshook the resolution of Rustan; but Ebene confirmed it anew, and\nobviated all his objections.\n\nThe young man was not furnished with money to defray the charge of so\nlong a voyage. The prudent Topaz would not have lent him any; Ebene\nsupplied him. He with great address stole his master's diamond, made a\nfalse one exactly like it which he put in its place, and pledged the\ntrue one to an Armenian for several thousand rupees.\n\nAs soon as the marquis possessed these rupees, all things were in\nreadiness for his departure. An elephant was loaded with his baggage.\nHis attendants mounted on horseback.\n\nTopaz said to his master: \"I have taken the liberty to expostulate with\nyou upon your enterprise, but after expostulating it is my duty to obey.\nI am devoted to you, I love you, I will follow you to the extremity of\nthe earth; but let us by the way consult the oracle that is but two\nparasongs distant from here.\"\n\nRustan consented. The answer returned by the oracle, was:\n\n\"If you go to the east you will be at the west.\"\n\nRustan could not guess the meaning of this answer. Topaz maintained that\nit boded no good. Ebene, always complaisant to his master, persuaded him\nthat it was highly favorable.\n\nThere was another oracle at Kaboul; they went to it. The oracle of\nKaboul made answer in these words:\n\n\"If you possess, you will cease to possess; if you are conqueror, you\nwill not conquer, if you are Rustan, you will cease to be so.\"\n\nThis oracle seemed still more unintelligible than the former.\n\n\"Take care of yourself,\" said Topaz.\n\n\"Fear nothing,\" said Ebene; and this minister, as may well be imagined,\nwas always thought in the right by his master, whose passions and hopes\nhe encouraged. Having left Kaboul, they passed through a vast forest.\nThey seated themselves upon the grass in order to take a repast, and\nleft their horses grazing. The attendants were preparing to unload the\nelephant which carried the dinner, the table, cloth, plates, &c., when,\nall on a sudden, Topaz and Ebene were perceived by the little caravan to\nbe missing. They were called, the forest resounded with the names of\nTopaz and Ebene; the lackeys seek them on every side, and fill the\nforest with their cries; they return without having seen anything, and\nwithout having received any answer.\n\n\"We have,\" said they to Rustan, \"found nothing but a vulture that fought\nwith an eagle, and stripped it of all its feathers.\"\n\nThe mention of this combat excited the curiosity of Rustan; he went on\nfoot to the place; he perceived neither vulture nor eagle; but he saw\nhis elephant, which was still loaded with baggage, attacked by a huge\nrhinoceros: one struck with its horn, the other with its proboscis. The\nrhinoceros desisted upon seeing Rustan; his elephant was brought back,\nbut his horses were not to be found.\n\n\"Strange things happen in forests to travelers,\" cried Rustan.\n\nThe servants were in great consternation, and the master in despair from\nhaving at once lost his horse, his dear negro, and the wise Topaz, for\nwhom he still entertained a friendship, though always differing from him\nin opinion.\n\nThe hope of being soon at the feet of the beautiful princess still\nconsoled the mirza, who, journeying on, now met with a huge streaked\nass, which a vigorous two-handed country clown beat with an oaken\ncudgel. The asses of this sort are extremely beautiful, very scarce, and\nbeyond comparison swift in running. The ass resented the repeated blows\nof the clown by kicks which might have rooted up an oak. The young\nmirza, as was reasonable, took upon him the defence of the ass, which\nwas a charming creature, the clown betook himself to flight, crying to\nthe ass, \"You shall pay for this.\"\n\nThe ass thanked her deliverer in her own language, and approaching him,\npermitted his caresses and caressed him in her turn. After dinner,\nRustan mounted her, and took the road to Cachemire with his servants,\nwho followed him, some on foot and some upon the elephant. Scarce had he\nmounted his ass, when that animal turned toward Kaboul, instead of\nproceeding to Cachemire. It was to no purpose for her master to turn the\nbridle, to kick, to press the sides of the beast with his knees, to\nspur, to slacken the bridle, to pull toward him, to whip both on the\nright and the left. The obstinate animal persisted in running toward\nKaboul.\n\nRustan in despair fretted and raved, when he met with a dealer in\ncamels, who said to him:\n\n\"Master, you have there a very malicious beast, that carries you where\nyou do not choose to go. If you will give it to me, I will give you the\nchoice of four of my camels.\"\n\nRustan thanked providence for having thrown so good a bargain in the\nway.\n\n\"Topaz was very much in the wrong,\" said he, \"to tell me that my journey\nwould prove unprosperous.\"\n\nHe mounts the handsome camel, the others follow; he rejoins his caravan\nand fancies himself on the road to happiness.\n\nScarce had he journeyed four parasongs, when he was stopped by a deep,\nbroad, and impetuous torrent, which rolled over huge rocks white with\nfoam. The two banks were frightful precipices which dazzled the sight\nand made the blood run cold. To pass was impracticable; to go to the\nright or to the left was impossible.\n\n\"I am beginning to be afraid,\" said Rustan, \"that Topaz was in the right\nin blaming my journey, and that I was in the wrong in undertaking it. If\nhe were still here he might give me good advice. If I had Ebene with me,\nhe would comfort me and find expedients; but everything fails me.\"\n\nThis perplexity was increased by the consternation of his attendants.\nThe night was dark, and they passed it in lamentations. At last fatigue\nand dejection made the amorous traveler fall asleep. He awoke at\nday-break, and saw, spanning the torrent, a beautiful marble bridge\nwhich reached from shore to shore.\n\nNothing was heard but exclamations, cries of astonishment and joy. Is it\npossible? Is this a dream? What a prodigy is this! What an enchantment!\nShall we venture to pass? The whole company kneeled, rose up, went to\nthe bridge, kissed the ground, looked up to heaven, stretched out their\nhands, set their feet on it with trembling, went to and fro, fell into\necstasies; and Rustan said:\n\n\"At last heaven favors me. Topaz did not know what he was saying. The\noracles were favorable to me. Ebene was in the right, but why is he not\nhere?\"\n\nScarce had the company got beyond the torrent, when the bridge sunk into\nthe water with a prodigious noise.\n\n\"So much the better, so much the better,\" cried Rustan. \"Praised be God,\nblessed be heaven; it would not have me return to my country, where I\nshould be nothing more than a gentleman. The intention of heaven is,\nthat I should wed her I love. I shall become prince of Cachemire; thus\nin possessing my mistress I shall cease to possess my little marquisate\nat Candahar. 'I shall be Rustan, and I shall not be Rustan,' because I\nshall have become a great prince: thus is a great part of the oracle\nclearly explained in my favor. The rest will be explained in the same\nmanner. I am very happy. But why is not Ebene with me? I regret him a\nthousand times more than Topaz.\"\n\nHe proceeded a few parasongs farther with the greatest alacrity\nimaginable; but, at the close of day, a chain of mountains more rugged\nthan a counterscarp, and higher than the tower of Babel would have been\nhad it been finished, stopped the passage of the caravan, which was\nagain seized with dread.\n\nAll the company cried out: \"It is the will of God that we perish here!\nhe broke the bridge merely to take from us all hopes of returning; he\nraised the mountain for no other reason than to deprive us of all means\nof advancing. Oh, Rustan! oh, unhappy marquis! we shall never see\nCachemire; we shall never return to the land of Candahar.\"\n\nThe most poignant anguish, the most insupportable dejection, succeeded\nin the soul of Rustan, to the immoderate joy which he had felt, to the\nhopes with which he had intoxicated himself. He was no longer disposed\nto interpret the prophecies in his favor.\n\n\"Oh, heavens! oh, God of my fathers!\" said he, \"must I then lose my\nfriend Topaz!\"\n\nAs he pronounced these words, fetching deep sighs and shedding tears in\nthe midst of his disconsolate followers, the base of the mountain\nopened, a long gallery appeared to the dazzled eyes in a vault lighted\nwith a hundred thousand torches. Rustan immediately begins to exult, and\nhis people to throw themselves upon their knees and to fall upon their\nbacks in astonishment, and cry out, \"A miracle! a miracle! Rustan is the\nfavorite of Witsnow, the well-beloved of Brahma. He will become the\nmaster of mankind.\"\n\nRustan believed it; he was quite beside himself; he was raised above\nhimself.\n\n\"Alas, Ebene,\" said he, \"my dear Ebene, where are you? Why are you not\nwitness of all these wonders? How did I lose you? Beauteous princess of\nCachemire, when shall I again behold your charms!\"\n\nHe advances with his attendants, his elephants, and his camels, under\nthe hollow of the mountain; at the end of which he enters into a meadow\nenameled with flowers and encompassed with rivulets. At the extremity of\nthe meadows are walks of trees to the end of which the eye cannot reach,\nand at the end of these alleys is a river, on the sides of which are a\nthousand pleasure houses with delicious gardens. He everywhere hears\nconcerts of vocal and instrumental music; he sees dances; he makes haste\nto go upon one of the bridges of the river; he asks the first man he\nmeets what fine country that is?\n\nHe whom he addressed himself to answered:\n\n\"You are in the province of Cachemire; you see the inhabitants immersed\nin joy and pleasure. We celebrate the marriage of our beauteous\nprincess, who is going to be married to the lord Barbabou, to whom her\nfather promised her. May God perpetuate their felicity!\"\n\nAt these words Rustan fainted away, and the Cachemirian lord thought he\nwas troubled with the falling sickness. He caused him to be carried to\nhis house, where he remained a long time insensible. He sent in search\nof the two most able physicians in that part of the country. They felt\nthe patient's pulse, who having somewhat recovered his spirits, sobbed,\nrolled his eyes, and cried from time to time, \"Topaz, Topaz, you were\nentirely in the right!\"\n\nOne of the two physicians said to the Cachemirian lord:\n\n\"I perceive, by this young man's accent, that he is from Candahar, and\nthat the air of this country is hurtful to him. He must be sent home. I\nperceive by his eyes that he has lost his senses. Entrust me with him, I\nwill carry him back to his own country, and cure him.\"\n\nThe other physician maintained that grief was his only disorder; and\nthat it was proper to carry him to the wedding of the princess, and make\nhim dance. Whilst they were in consultation, the patient recovered his\nhealth. The two physicians were dismissed, and Rustan remained along\nwith his host.\n\n\"My lord,\" said he, \"I ask your pardon for having been so free as to\nfaint in your presence. I know it to be a breach of politeness. I\nentreat you to accept of my elephant, as an acknowledgment of the\nkindness you have shown me.\"\n\nHe then related to him all his adventure, taking particular care to\nconceal from him the occasion of his journey.\n\n\"But, in the name of Witsnow and Brahma,\" said he to him, \"tell me who\nis this happy Barbabou, who is to marry the princess of Cachemire? Why\nhas her father chosen him for his son-in-law, and why has the princess\naccepted of him for an husband?\"\n\n\"Sir,\" answered the Cachemirian, \"the princess has by no means accepted\nof Barbabou. She is, on the contrary, in tears, whilst the whole\nprovince joyfully celebrates her marriage. She has shut herself up in a\ntower of her palace. She does not choose to see any of the rejoicings\nmade upon the occasion.\"\n\nRustan, at hearing this, perceived himself revived. The bloom of his\ncomplexion, which grief had caused to fade, appeared again upon his\ncountenance.\n\n\"Tell me, I entreat you,\" continued he, \"why the prince of Cachemire is\nobstinately bent upon giving his daughter to lord Barbabou whom she does\nnot love?\"\n\n\"This is the fact,\" answered the Cachemirian. \"Do you know that our\naugust prince lost a large diamond and a javelin which he considered as\nof great value?\"\n\n\"Ah! I very well know that,\" said Rustan.\n\n\"Know then,\" said his host, \"that our prince, being in despair at not\nhaving heard of his two precious curiosities, after having caused them\nto be sought for all over the world, promised his daughter to whoever\nshould bring him either the one or the other. A lord Barbabou came who\nhad the diamond, and he is to marry the princess to-morrow.\"\n\nRustan turned pale, stammered out a compliment, took leave of his host,\nand galloped upon his dromedary to the capital city, where the ceremony\nwas to be performed. He arrives at the palace of the prince, he tells\nhim he has something of importance to communicate to him, he demands an\naudience. He is told that the prince is taken up with the preparations\nfor the wedding.\n\n\"It is for that very reason,\" said he, \"that I am desirous of speaking\nto him.\" Such is his importunity, that he is at last admitted.\n\n\"Prince,\" said he, \"may God crown all your days with glory and\nmagnificence! Your son-in-law is a knave.\"\n\n\"What! a knave! how dare you speak in such terms? Is that a proper way\nof speaking to a duke of Cachemire of a son-in-law of whom he has made\nchoice?\"\n\n\"Yes, he is a knave,\" continued Rustan; \"and to prove it to your\nhighness, I have brought you back your diamond.\"\n\nThe duke, surprised at what he heard, compared the two diamonds; and as\nhe was no judge of precious stones, he could not determine which was the\ntrue one.\n\n\"Here are two diamonds,\" said he, \"and I have but one daughter, I am in\na strange perplexity.\"\n\nHe sent for Harbabou, and asked him if he had not imposed upon him,\nHarbabou swore he had bought his diamond from an Armenian; the other did\nnot tell him who he had his from; but he proposed an expedient, which\nwas that he should engage his rival in single combat.\n\n\"It is not enough for your son-in-law to give a diamond,\" said he, \"he\nshould also give proofs of valor. Do not you think it just that he who\nkills his rival should marry the princess?\"\n\n\"Undoubtedly,\" answered the prince. \"It will be a fine sight for the\ncourt. Fight directly. The conqueror shall take the arms of the\nconquered according to the customs of Cachemire, and he shall marry my\ndaughter.\"\n\nThe two pretenders to the hand of the princess go down into the court.\nUpon the stairs there was a jay and a raven. The raven cried, \"Fight,\nfight.\" The jay cried, \"Don't fight.\"\n\nThis made the prince laugh; the two rivals scarce took any notice of it.\nThey begin the combat. All the courtiers made a circle round them. The\nprincess, who kept herself constantly shut up in her tower, did not\nchoose to behold this sight. She never dreampt that her lover was at\nCachemire, and she hated Barbabou to such a degree, that she could not\nbear the sight of him. The combat had the happiest result imaginable.\nBarbabou was killed outright; and this greatly rejoiced the people,\nbecause he was ugly and Rustan was very handsome. The favor of the\npublic is almost always determined by this circumstance.\n\nThe conqueror put on the coat of mail, scarf, and the casque of the\nconquered, and came, followed by the whole court, to present himself\nunder the windows of his mistress. The multitude cried aloud: \"Beautiful\nprincess, come and see your handsome lover, who has killed his ugly\nrival.\" These words were re-echoed by her women. The princess unluckily\nlooked out of the window, and seeing the armor of a man she hated, she\nran like one frantic to her strong box and took out the fatal javelin,\nwhich flew to pierce Rustan, notwithstanding his cuirass. He cried out\nloudly, and at this cry the princess thought she again knew the voice of\nher unhappy lover.\n\nShe ran down stairs, with her hair disheveled, and death in her eyes as\nwell as her heart. Rustan had already fallen, all bloody, into the arms\nof his attendants. She sees him. Oh, moment! oh, sight! oh, discovery of\ninexpressible grief, tenderness and horror! She throws herself upon him,\nand embraces him.\n\n\"You receive,\" said she, \"the first and last kisses of your mistress and\nyour murderer.\"\n\nShe pulls the dart from the wound, plunges it in her heart, and dies\nupon the body of the lover whom she adores. The father, terrified, in\ndespair, and ready to die like his daughter, tries in vain to bring her\nto life. She was no more. He curses the fatal dart, breaks it to pieces,\nthrows away the two fatal diamonds; and whilst he prepared the funeral\nof his daughter instead of her marriage, he caused Rustan, who weltered\nin his blood and had still some remains of life, to be carried to his\npalace.\n\nHe was put into bed. The first objects he saw on each side of his\ndeathbed were Topaz and Ebene. This surprise made him in some degree\nrecover his strength.\n\n\"Cruel men,\" said he, \"why did you abandon me? Perhaps the princess\nwould still be alive if you had been with the unhappy Rustan.\"\n\n\"I have not forsaken you a moment,\" said Topaz.\n\n\"I have always been with you,\" said Ebene.\n\n\"Ah! what do you say? why do you insult me in my last moments?\" answered\nRustan, with a languishing voice.\n\n\"You may believe me,\" said Topaz. \"You know I never approved of this\nfatal journey, the dreadful consequences of which I foresaw. I was the\neagle that fought with the vulture and stripped it of its feathers; I\nwas the elephant that carried away the baggage, in order to force you to\nreturn to your own country; I was the streaked ass that carried you,\nwhether you would or no, to your father; it was I that made your horses\ngo astray; it was I that caused the torrent that prevented your passage;\nit was I that raised the mountain which stopped up a road so fatal to\nyou; I was the physician that advised you to return to your own country;\nI was the jay that cried to you not to fight.\"\n\n\"And I,\" said Ebene, \"was the vulture that he stripped of his feathers,\nthe rhinoceros who gave him a hundred strokes with the horn, the clown\nthat beat the streaked ass, the merchant who made you a present of\ncamels to hasten you to your destruction; I dug the cavern that you\ncrossed, I am the physician that encouraged you to walk, the raven that\ncried out to you to combat.\"\n\n\"Alas!\" said Topaz, \"remember the oracles: 'If you go to the east you\nwill be at the west.'\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Ebene, \"here the dead are buried with their faces turned to\nthe west. The oracle was plain enough, though you did not understand it.\nYou possessed, and you did not possess; for though you had the diamond,\nit was a false one, and you did not know it. You are conqueror, and you\ndie; you are Rustan, and you cease to be so: all has been accomplished.\"\n\nWhilst he spoke thus, four white wings covered the body of Topaz, and\nfour black ones that of Ebene.\n\n\"What do I see?\" cried Rustan.\n\nTopaz and Ebene answered together: \"You see your two geniuses.\"\n\n\"Good gentlemen,\" cried the unhappy Rustan, \"how came you to meddle; and\nwhat occasion had a poor man for two geniuses?\"\n\n\"It is a law,\" answered Topaz; \"every man has too geniuses. Plato was\nthe first man who said so, and others have repeated it after him. You\nsee that nothing can be more true. I who now speak to you, am your good\ngenius. I was charged to watch over you to the last moment of your life.\nOf this task I have faithfully acquitted myself.\"\n\n\"But,\" said the dying man, \"if your business was to serve me, I am of a\nnature much superior to yours. And then how can you have the assurance\nto say you are my good genius, since you have suffered me to be deceived\nin everything I have undertaken, and since you suffer both my mistress\nand me to die miserably?\"\n\n\"Alas!\" said Topaz, \"it was your destiny.\"\n\n\"If destiny does all,\" answered the dying man, \"what is a genius good\nfor? And you, Ebene, with your four black wings, you are, doubtless, my\nevil genius.\"\n\n\"You have hit it,\" answered Ebene.\n\n\"Then I suppose you were the evil genius of my princess likewise,\" said\nRustan.\n\n\"No,\" replied Ebene, \"she had an evil genius of her own, and I seconded\nhim perfectly.\"\n\n\"Ah! cursed Ebene,\" said Rustan, \"if you are so malicious, you don't\nbelong to the same master with Topaz: you have been formed by two\ndifferent principles, one of which is by nature good, the other evil.\"\n\n\"That does not follow,\" said Ebene, \"this is a very knotty point.\"\n\n\"It is not possible,\" answered the dying man, \"that a benevolent being\ncould create so destructive a genius.\"\n\n\"Possible or not possible,\" replied the genius, \"the thing is just as I\nsay.\"\n\n\"Alas!\" said Topaz, \"my poor unfortunate friend, don't you see that that\nrogue is so malicious as to encourage you to dispute, in order to\ninflame your blood and hasten your death?\"\n\n\"Get you gone,\" said the melancholy Rustan, \"I am not much better\nsatisfied with you than with him. He at least acknowledges that it was\nhis intention to hurt me; and you, who pretended to defend me, have done\nme no service at all.\"\n\n\"I am very sorry for it,\" said the good genius.\n\n\"And I too,\" said the dying man; \"there is something at the bottom of\nall this which I cannot comprehend.\"\n\n\"Nor I neither,\" said the good genius.\n\n\"I shall know the truth of the matter in a moment,\" said Rustan. \"We\nshall see that,\" said Topaz.\n\nThe whole scene then vanished. Rustan again found himself in the house\nof his father, which he had not quitted, and in his bed, where he had\nslept an hour.\n\nHe awakes in astonishment, perspiring all over, and quite wild. He rubs\nhimself, he calls, he rings the bell. His valet de chambre, Topaz, runs\nin, in his nightcap, and yawning.\n\n\"Am I dead or alive?\" cried out Rustan, \"shall the beauteous princess of\nCachemire escape?\n\n\"Does your lordship rave?\" answered Topaz, coldly.\n\n\"Ah!\" cried Rustan, \"what then is become of this barbarous Ebene, with\nhis four black wings! It is he that makes me die by so cruel a death.\"\n\n\"My lord,\" answered Topaz, \"I left him snoring up stairs. Would you have\nme bid him come down?\"\n\n\"The villain,\" said Rustan, \"has persecuted me for six months together.\nIt was he who carried me to the fatal fair of Kaboul; it is he that\ncheated me of the diamond which the princess presented me; he is the\nsole cause of my journey, of the death of my princess, and of the wound\nwith a javelin, of which I die in the flower of my age.\"\n\n\"Take heart,\" said Topaz, \"you were never at Kaboul; there is no\nprincess of Cachemire; her father never had any children but two boys,\nwho are now at college; you never had a diamond; the princess cannot be\ndead, because she never was born; and you are in perfect health.\"\n\n\"What! is it not then true that you attended me whilst dying, and in the\nbed of the prince of Cachemire? Did you not acknowledge to me, that, in\norder to preserve me from so many dangers, you were an eagle, an\nelephant, a streaked ass, a physician, and a jay?\"\n\n\"My lord, you have dreampt all this,\" answered Topaz; \"our ideas are no\nmore of our own creating whilst we are asleep than whilst we are awake.\nGod has thought proper that this train of ideas should pass in your\nhead, most probably to convey some instruction to you, of which you may\nmake a good use.\"\n\n\"You make a jest of me,\" replied Rustan, \"how long have I slept?\"\n\n\"My lord,\" said Topaz, \"you have not yet slept an hour.\"\n\n\"Cursed reasoner,\" returned Rustan, \"how is it possible that I could be\nin the space of an hour at the fair of Kaboul six months ago; that I\ncould have returned from thence, have traveled to Cachemire, and that\nBarbabou, the princess, and I, should have died?\"\n\n\"My lord,\" said Topaz, \"nothing can be more easy and more common; and\nyou might have traveled around the world, and have met with a great many\nmore adventures in much less time. Is it not true that you can, in an\nhour's time, read the abridgment of the Persian history, written by\nZoroaster? yet this abridgment contains eight hundred thousand years.\nAll these events pass before your eyes one after another, in an hour's\ntime. Now you must acknowledge, that it is as easy to Brahma to confine\nthem to the space of an hour, as to extend them to the space of eight\nhundred thousand years. It is exactly the same thing. Imagine to\nyourself that time turns upon a wheel whose diameter is infinite. Under\nthis vast wheel is a numerous multitude of wheels one within another.\nThat in the centre is imperceptible, and goes round an infinite number\nof times, whilst the great wheel performs but one revolution. It is\nevident that all the events which have happened from the beginning of\nthe world, to its end, might have happened in much less time than the\nhundred thousandth part of a second; and one may even go so far as to\nassert that the thing is so.\"\n\n\"I cannot comprehend all this,\" said Rustan.\n\n\"If you want information,\" said Topaz, \"I have a parrot that will easily\nexplain it to you. He was born some time before the deluge; he has been\nin the ark; he has seen a great deal; yet he is but a year and a half\nold. He will relate to you his history, which is extremely interesting.\"\n\n\"Go fetch your parrot,\" said Rustan, \"it will amuse me till I again find\nmyself disposed to sleep.\"\n\n\"It is with my sister, the nun,\" said Topaz: \"I will go and fetch it. It\nwill please you; its memory is faithful, it relates in a simple manner,\nwithout endeavoring to show wit at every turn.\"\n\n\"So much the better,\" said Rustan, \"I like that manner of telling\nstories.\"\n\nThe parrot being brought to him, spoke in this manner:\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nN.B. Mademoiselle Catherine Vade could never find the history of the\nparrot in the commonplace-book of her late cousin Anthony Vade, author\nof that tale. This is a great misfortune, considering what age that\nparrot lived in.\n\n[Illustration: The parrot.]\n\n\n\n[Illustration: Young Memnon.[1]]\n\n\n\nMEMNON THE PHILOSOPHER.\n\n\nMemnon one day took it into his head to become a great philosopher. \"To\nbe perfectly happy,\" said he to himself, \"I have nothing to do but to\ndivest myself entirely of passions; and nothing is more easy, as\neverybody knows. In the first place, I will never be in love; for, when\nI see a beautiful woman, I will say to myself, these cheeks will one day\ngrow sallow and wrinkled, these eyes be encircled with vermilion, that\nbosom become lean and emaciated, that head bald and palsied. Now I have\nonly to consider her at present in imagination as she will afterwards\nappear in reality, and certainly a fair face will never turn my head.\n\n\"In the second place, I shall always be temperate. It will be in vain to\ntempt me with good cheer, with delicious wines, or the charms of\nsociety, I will have only to figure to myself the consequences of\nexcess--an aching head, a loathing stomach, the loss of reason, of\nhealth, and of time: I will then only eat to supply the waste of nature;\nmy health will be always equal, my ideas pure and luminous. All this is\nso easy that there is no merit in accomplishing it.\"\n\n\"But,\" says Memnon, \"I must think a little of how I am to regulate my\nfortune: why, my desires are moderate, my wealth is securely placed with\nthe Receiver General of the finances of Nineveh. I have wherewithal to\nlive independent; and that is the greatest of blessings. I shall never\nbe under the cruel necessity of dancing attendance at court. I will\nnever envy any one, and nobody will envy me. Still all this is easy. I\nhave friends, and I will preserve them, for we shall never have any\ndifference. I will never take amiss anything they may say or do; and\nthey will behave in the same way to me. There is no difficulty in all\nthis.\"\n\nHaving thus laid this little plan of philosophy in his closet, Memnon\nput his head out of the window. He saw two women walking under the\nplane-trees near his house. The one was old, and appeared quite at her\nease. The other was young, handsome, and seemingly much agitated. She\nsighed, she wept, and seemed on that account still more beautiful. Our\nphilosopher was touched, not, to be sure, with the lady, (he was too\nmuch determined not to feel any uneasiness of that kind) but with the\ndistress which he saw her in. He came down stairs, and accosted the\nyoung Ninevite, designing to console her with philosophy. That lovely\nperson related to him, with an air of the greatest simplicity, and in\nthe most affecting manner, the injuries she sustained from an imaginary\nuncle--with what art he had deprived her of some imaginary property, and\nof the violence which she pretended to dread from him.\n\n\"You appear to me,\" said she, \"a man of such wisdom, that if you will\ncome to my house and examine into my affairs, I am persuaded you will be\nable to relieve me from the cruel embarrassment I am at present involved\nin.\"\n\nMemnon did not hesitate to follow her, to examine her affairs\nphilosophically, and to give her sound counsel.\n\nThe afflicted lady led him into a perfumed chamber, and politely made\nhim sit down with her on a large sofa, where they both placed themselves\nopposite to each other, in the attitude of conversation; the one eager\nin telling her story, the other listening with devout attention. The\nlady spoke with downcast eyes, whence there sometimes fell a tear, and\nwhich, as she now and then ventured to raise them, always met those of\nthe sage Memnon. Their discourse was full of tenderness, which redoubled\nas often as their eyes met. Memnon took her affairs exceedingly to\nheart, and felt himself every instant more and more inclined to oblige a\nperson so virtuous and so unhappy. By degrees, in the warmth of\nconversation they drew nearer. Memnon counseled her with great wisdom,\nand gave her most tender advice.\n\nAt this interesting moment, as may easily be imagined, who should come\nin but the uncle. He was armed from head to foot, and the first thing he\nsaid was, that he would immediately sacrifice, as was just, both Memnon\nand his niece. The latter, who made her escape, knew that he was\ndisposed to pardon, provided a good round sum were offered to him.\nMemnon was obliged to purchase his safety with all he had about him. In\nthose days people were happy in getting so easily quit. America was not\nthen discovered, and distressed ladies were not then so dangerous as\nthey are now.\n\nMemnon, covered with shame and confusion, got home to his own house. He\nthere found a card inviting him to dinner with some of his intimate\nfriends.\n\n\"If I remain at home alone,\" said he, \"I shall have my mind so occupied\nwith this vexatious adventure, that I shall not be able to eat a bit,\nand I shall bring upon myself some disease. It will therefore be prudent\nin me to go to my intimate friends and partake with them of a frugal\nrepast. I shall forget, in the sweets of their society, the folly I have\nthis morning been guilty of.\"\n\nAccordingly he attends the meeting; he is discovered to be uneasy at\nsomething, and he is urged to drink and banish care.\n\n\"A little wine, drank in moderation, comforts the heart of God and man:\"\nso reasoned Memnon the philosopher, and he became intoxicated. After the\nrepast, play is proposed.\n\n\"A little play, with one's intimate friends, is a harmless pastime.\" He\nplays and loses all in his purse, and four times as much on his word. A\ndispute arises on some circumstance in the game, and the disputants grow\nwarm. One of his intimate friends throws a dice-box at his head, and\nstrikes out one of his eyes. The philosopher Memnon is carried home\ndrunk and penniless, with the loss of an eye.\n\nHe sleeps out his debauch, and, when his head becomes clear, he sends\nhis servant to the Receiver General of the finances of Nineveh, to draw\na little money to pay his debt of honor to his intimate friends. The\nservant returns and informs him, that the Receiver General had that\nmorning been declared a fraudulent bankrupt, and that by this means an\nhundred families are reduced to poverty and despair. Memnon, almost\nbeside himself, puts a plaster on his eye and a petition in his pocket,\nand goes to court to solicit justice from the king against the bankrupt.\nIn the saloon he meets a number of ladies, all in the highest spirits,\nand sailing along with hoops four-and-twenty feet in circumference. One\nof them, slightly acquainted with him, eyed him askance, and cried\naloud: \"Ah! what a horrid monster!\"\n\nAnother, who was better acquainted with him, thus accosts him:\n\"Good-morrow, Mr. Memnon, I hope you are well, Mr. Memnon. La! Mr.\nMemnon, how did you lose your eye?\" and turning upon her heel, she\ntripped unconcernedly away.\n\nMemnon hid himself in a corner, and waited for the moment when he could\nthrow himself at the feet of the monarch. That moment at last arrived.\nThree times he kissed the earth, and presented his petition. His\ngracious majesty received him very favorably, and referred the paper to\none of his satraps. The satrap takes Memnon aside, and says to him with\na haughty air and satirical grin:\n\n\"Hark ye, you fellow with the one eye, you must be a comical dog indeed,\nto address yourself to the king rather than to me: and still more so, to\ndare to demand justice against an honest bankrupt, whom I honor with my\nprotection, and who is also a nephew to the waiting-maid of my mistress.\nProceed no further in this business, my good friend, if you wish to\npreserve the eye you have left.\"\n\nMemnon having thus, in his closet, resolved to renounce women, the\nexcess of the table, play, and quarreling, but especially having\ndetermined never to go to court, had been in the short space of\nfour-and-twenty hours duped and robbed by a gentle dame, had got drunk,\nhad gamed, had been engaged in a quarrel, had got his eye knocked out,\nand had been at court, where he was sneered at and insulted.\n\nPetrified with astonishment, and his heart broken with grief, Memnon\nreturns homeward in despair. As he was about to enter his house, he is\nrepulsed by a number of officers who are carrying off his furniture for\nthe benefit of his creditors. He falls down almost lifeless under a\nplane-tree. There he finds the fair dame of the morning, who was walking\nwith her dear uncle; and both set up a loud laugh on seeing Memnon with\nhis plaster. The night approached, and Memnon made his bed on some straw\nnear the walls of his house. Here the ague seized him, and he fell\nasleep in one of the fits, when a celestial spirit appeared to him in a\ndream.\n\nIt was all resplendent with light: it had six beautiful wings, but\nneither feet, nor head, and could be likened to nothing.\n\n\"What art thou?\" said Memnon.\n\n\"Thy good genius,\" replied the spirit.\n\n\"Restore me then my eye, my health, my fortune, my reason,\" said Memnon;\nand he related how he had lost them all in one day. \"These are\nadventures which never happen to us in the world we inhabit,\" said the\nspirit.\n\n\"And what world do you inhabit?\" said the man of affliction.\n\n\"My native country,\" replied the other, \"is five hundred millions of\nleagues distant from the sun, in a little star near Sirius, which you\nsee from hence.\"\n\n\"Charming country!\" said Memnon. \"And are there indeed with you no jades\nto dupe a poor devil, no intimate friends that win his money and knock\nout an eye for him, no fraudulent bankrupts, no satraps, that make a\njest of you while they refuse you justice?\"\n\n\"No,\" said the inhabitant of the star, \"we have nothing of the kind. We\nare never duped by women, because we have none among us; we never commit\nexcesses at table, because we neither eat nor drink; we have no\nbankrupts, because with us there is neither silver nor gold; our eyes\ncannot be knocked out, because we have not bodies in the form of yours;\nand satraps never do us injustice, because in our world we are all\nequal.\"\n\n\"Pray my lord,\" said Memnen, \"without women and without eating how do\nyou spend your time?\"\n\n\"In watching, over the other worlds that are entrusted to us; and I am\nnow come to give you consolation.\"\n\n\"Alas!\" replied Memnon, \"why did you not come yesterday to hinder me\nfrom committing so many indiscretions?\"\n\n\"I was with your elder brother Hassan,\" said the celestial being. \"He is\nstill more to be pitied than you are. His most gracious majesty, the\nsultan of the Indies, in whose court he has the honor to serve, has\ncaused both his eyes to be put out for some small indiscretion; and he\nis now in a dungeon, his hands and feet loaded with chains.\"\n\n\"'Tis a happy thing, truly,\" said Memnon, \"to have a good genius in\none's family, when out of two brothers, one is blind of an eye, the\nother blind of both; one stretched upon straw, the other in a dungeon.\"\n\n\"Your fate will soon change,\" said the spirit of the star. \"It is true\nyou will never recover your eye; but, except that, you may be\nsufficiently happy if you never again take it into your head to be a\nperfect philosopher.\"\n\n\"Is it then impossible?\" said Memnon.\n\n\"As impossible as to be perfectly wise, perfectly strong, perfectly\npowerful, perfectly happy. We ourselves are very far from it. There is a\nworld indeed where all this takes place; but, in the hundred thousand\nmillions of worlds dispersed over the regions of space, everything goes\non by degrees. There is less philosophy and less enjoyment in the second\nthan in the first, less in the third than in the second, and so forth\ntill the last in the scale, where all are completely fools.\"\n\n\"I am afraid,\" said Memnon, \"that our little terraqueous globe here is\nthe madhouse of those hundred thousand millions of worlds, of which your\nlordship does me the honor to speak.\"\n\n\"Not quite,\" said the spirit, \"but very nearly; everything must be in\nits proper place.\"\n\n\"But are those poets and philosophers wrong, then, who tell us that\neverything is for the best?\"\n\n\"No, they are right, when we consider things in relation to the\ngradation of the whole universe.\"\n\n\"Oh! I shall never believe it till I recover my eye again,\" said the\nunfortunate Memnon.\n\n\n[1] The above engraving from Chamber's Guide to the British Museum,\nrepresents a head and bust of Memnon, \"formed of a single block of fine\nsyene granite, one piece of which is red, while the rest is blue or\ngrayish. The sculptor, with admirable taste, used the red part for the\nhead, and the darker part for the breast. Although the statue has all\nthe characteristics of Egyptian sculpture--the projecting eyes, thick\nlips, high ears, and small chin--yet such is the beauty of the\nexecution, so much sweetness and mildness is there in the expression of\nthe countenance, that the effect is, on the whole, extremely pleasing.\nHere, in short, we have the masterpiece of some Egyptian sculptor of\nsuperior genius, whose name has perished. Here also, if we are to accept\nthe statue as a genuine likeness, we behold the features of the great\nEgyptian Pharaoh, at whose name, some fourteen centuries before Christ,\nthe Mediterranean nations trembled. Doubtless on such a subject the\nsculptor would do his best; striving, while transmitting the features of\nthe hero to posterity, to produce also a countenance that would be the\nideal of Egyptian beauty.\"--E.\n\n[Illustration: Memnon and the distressed Ninevite.--\"The afflicted lady\nled him into a perfumed chamber, where they both placed themselves\nopposite to each other, in the attitude of conversation; the one eager\nin telling her story, the other listening with devout attention.]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: Destouches and Croutef.]\n\n\n\nANDR\u00c9 DES TOUCHES AT SIAM.\n\n\nAndr\u00e9 Des Touches was a very agreeable musician in the brilliant reign\nof Louis XIV. before the science of music was perfected by Rameau; and\nbefore it was corrupted by those who prefer the art of surmounting\ndifficulties to nature and the real graces of composition.\n\nBefore he had recourse to these talents he had been a musketeer, and\nbefore that, in 1688, he went into Siam with the Jesuit Tachard, who\ngave him many marks of his affection, for the amusement he afforded on\nboard the ship; and Des Touches spoke with admiration of father Tachard\nfor the rest of his life.\n\nAt Siam he became acquainted with the first commissary of Barcalon,\nwhose name was Croutef; and he committed to writing most of those\nquestions which he asked of Croutef, and the answers of that Siamese.\nThey are as follows:\n\nDES TOUCHES.--How many soldiers have you?\n\nCROUTEF.--Fourscore thousand, very indifferently paid.\n\nDES TOUCHES.--And how many Talapolins?\n\nCROUTEF.--A hundred and twenty thousand, very idle and very rich. It is\ntrue that in the last war we were beaten, but our Talapolins have lived\nsumptuously, and built fine houses.\n\nDES TOUCHES.--Nothing could have discovered more judgment. And your\nfinances, in what state are they?\n\nCROUTEF.--In a very bad state. We have, however, about ninety thousand\nmen employed to render them prosperous, and if they have not succeeded,\nit has not been their fault; for there is not one of them who does not\nhonorably seize all that he can get possession of, and strip and plunder\nthose who cultivate the ground for the good of the state.\n\nDES TOUCHES.--Bravo! And is not your jurisprudence as perfect as the\nrest of your administration?\n\nCROUTEF.--It is much superior. We have no laws, but we have five or six\nthousand volumes on the laws. We are governed in general by customs; for\nit is known that a custom, having been established by chance, is the\nwisest principle that can be imagined. Besides, all customs being\nnecessarily different in different provinces, the judges may choose at\ntheir pleasure a custom which prevailed four hundred years ago, or one\nwhich prevailed last year. It occasions a variety in our legislation,\nwhich our neighbors are forever admiring. This yields a certain fortune\nto practitioners. It is a resource for all pleaders who are destitute of\nhonor, and a pastime of infinite amusement for the judges, who can with\nsafe consciences decide causes without understanding them.\n\nDES TOUCHES.--But in criminal cases--you have laws which may be depended\nupon.\n\nCROUTEF.--God forbid! We can condemn men to exile, to the galleys, to be\nhanged; or we can discharge them, according to our own fancy. We\nsometimes complain of the arbitrary power of the Barcalon; but we choose\nthat all our decisions should be arbitrary.\n\nDES TOUCHES.--That is very just. And the torture--do you put people to\nthe torture?\n\nCROUTEF.--It is our greatest pleasure. We have found it an infallible\nsecret to save a guilty person, who has vigorous muscles, strong and\nsupple hamstrings, nervous arms, and firm loins; and we gaily break on\nthe wheel all those innocent persons to whom nature has given feeble\norgans. It is thus we conduct ourselves with wonderful wisdom and\nprudence. As there are half proofs, I mean half truths, it is certain\nthere are persons who are half innocent and half guilty. We commence,\ntherefore, by rendering them half dead; we then go to breakfast;\nafterwards ensues entire death, which gives us great consideration in\nthe world, which is one of the most valuable advantages of our offices.\n\nDES TOUCHES.--It must be allowed that nothing can be more prudent and\nhumane. Pray tell me what becomes of the property of the condemned?\n\nCROUTEF.--The children are deprived of it. For you know that nothing can\nbe more equitable than to punish the single fault of a parent on all his\ndescendants.\n\nDES TOUCHES.--Yes. It is a great while since I have heard of this\njurisprudence.\n\nCROUTEF.--The people of Laos, our neighbors, admit neither the torture,\nnor arbitrary punishments, nor the different customs, nor the horrible\ndeaths which are in use among us; but we regard them as barbarians who\nhave no idea of good government. All Asia is agreed that we dance the\nbest of all its inhabitants, and that, consequently, it is impossible\nthey should come near us in jurisprudence, in commerce, in finance, and,\nabove all, in the military art.\n\nDES TOUCHES.--Tell me, I beseech you, by what steps men arrive at the\nmagistracy in Siam.\n\nCROUTEF.--By ready money. You perceive that it may be impossible to be a\ngood judge, if a man has not by him thirty or forty thousand pieces of\nsilver. It is in vain a man may be perfectly acquainted with all our\ncustoms; it is to no purpose that he has pleaded five hundred causes\nwith success--that he has a mind which is the seat of judgment, and a\nheart replete with justice; no man can become a magistrate without\nmoney. This, I say, is the circumstance which distinguishes us from all\nAsia, and particularly from the barbarous inhabitants of Laos, who have\nthe madness to recompense all kinds of talents, and not to sell any\nemployment.\n\nAndr\u00e9 des Touches, who was a little off his guard, said to the Siamese,\nthat most of the airs which he had just sung sounded discordant to him;\nand wished to receive information concerning real Siamese music. But\nCroutef, full of his subject, and enthusiastic for his country,\ncontinued in these words:\n\n\"What does it signify that our neighbors, who live beyond our mountains,\nhave better music than we have, or better pictures; provided we have\nalways wise and humane laws? It is in that circumstance we excel. For\nexample:\n\n\"If a man has adroitly stolen three or four hundred thousand pieces of\ngold, we respect him, and we go and dine with him. But if a poor servant\ngets awkwardly into his possession three or four pieces of copper out of\nhis mistress's box, we never fail of putting that servant to a public\ndeath; first, lest he should not correct himself; secondly, that he may\nnot have it in his power to produce a great number of children for the\nstate, one or two of whom might possibly steal a few little pieces of\ncopper, or become great men; thirdly, because it is just to proportion\nthe punishment to the crime, and that it would be ridiculous to give any\nuseful employment in a prison to a person guilty of so enormous a crime.\n\n\"But we are still more just, more merciful, more reasonable in the\nchastisements which we inflict on those who have the audacity to make\nuse of their legs to go wherever they choose. We treat those warriors so\nwell who sell us their lives, we give them so prodigious a salary, they\nhave so considerable a part in our conquests, that they must be the most\ncriminal of all men to wish to return to their parents on the recovery\nof their reason, because they had been enlisted in a state of\nintoxication. To oblige them to remain in one place, we lodge about a\ndozen leaden balls in their heads; after which they become infinitely\nuseful to their country.\n\n\"I will not speak of a great number of excellent institutions, which do\nnot go so far as to shed the blood of men, but which render life so\npleasant and agreeable that it is impossible the guilty should avoid\nbecoming virtuous. If a farmer has not been able to pay promptly a tax\nwhich exceeds his ability, we sell the pot in which he dresses his food;\nwe sell his bed, in order that, being relieved of all his superfluities,\nhe may be in a better condition to cultivate the earth.\"\n\nDES TOUCHES.--That is extremely harmonious!\n\nCROUTEF.--To comprehend our profound wisdom, you must know that our\nfundamental principle is to acknowledge in many places as our sovereign,\na shaven-headed foreigner who lives at the distance of nine hundred\nmiles from us. When we assign some of our best territories to any of our\nTalapolins, which it is very prudent in us to do, that Siamese Talapolin\nmust pay the revenue of his first year to that shaven-headed Tartar,\nwithout which it is clear our lands would be unfruitful.\n\nBut the time, the happy time, is no more, when that tonsured priest\ninduced one half of the nation to cut the throats of the other half, in\norder to decide whether Sammonocodom had played at leap-frog or at some\nother game; whether he had been disguised in an elephant or in a cow; if\nhe had slept three hundred and ninety days on the right side, or on the\nleft. Those grand questions, which so essentially affect morality,\nagitated all minds; they shook the world; blood flowed plentifully for\nit; women were massacred on the bodies of their husbands; they dashed\nout the brains of their little infants on the stones, with a devotion,\nwith a grace, with a contrition truly angelic. Woe to us! degenerate\noffspring of pious ancestors, who never offer such holy sacrifices! But,\nheaven be praised, there are yet among us at least a few good souls, who\nwould imitate them if they were permitted.\n\nDES TOUCHES.--Tell me, I beseech you, sir, if at Siam you divide the\ntone major into two commas, or into two semi-commas; and if the progress\nof the fundamental sounds are made by one, three, and nine?\n\nCROUTEF. By Sammonocodom, you are laughing at me. You observe no bounds.\nYou have interrogated me on the form of our government, and you speak to\nme of music!\n\nDES TOUCHES.---Music is everything. It was at the foundation of all the\npolitics of the Greeks. But I beg your pardon; you have not a good ear;\nand we will return to our subject. You said, that in order to produce a\nperfect harmony--\n\nCROUTEF.--I was telling you, that formerly the tonsured Tartar pretended\nto dispose of all the kingdoms of Asia; which occasioned something very\ndifferent from perfect harmony. But a very considerable benefit resulted\nfrom it; for people were then more devout toward Sammonocodom and his\nelephant than they are now; for, at the present time, all the world\npretends to common sense, with an indiscretion truly pitiable. However,\nall things go on; people divert themselves, they dance, they play, they\ndine, they sup, they make love; this makes every man shudder who\nentertains good intentions.\n\nDES TOUCHES.--And what would you have more? You only want good music. If\nyou had good music, you might call your nation the happiest in the\nworld.\n\n\n\n\nTHE BLIND PENSIONERS AT QUINZE VINGT.\n\n\nA SHORT DIGRESSION.--When the hospital of the Quinze Vingt was first\nfounded, the pensioners were all equal, and their little affairs were\nconcluded upon by a majority of votes. They distinguished perfectly by\nthe touch between copper and silver coin; they never mistook the wine of\nBrie for that of Burgundy. Their sense of smelling was finer than that\nof their neighbors who had the use of two eyes. They reasoned very well\non the four senses; that is, they knew everything they were permitted to\nknow, and they lived as peaceably and as happily as blind people could\nbe supposed to do. But unfortunately one of their professors pretended\nto have clear ideas in respect to the sense of seeing, he drew\nattention; he intrigued; he formed enthusiasts; and at last he was\nacknowledged chief of the community. He pretended to be a judge of\ncolors, and everything was lost.\n\nThis dictator of the Quinze Vingt chose at first a little council, by\nthe assistance of which he got possession of all the alms. On this\naccount, no person had the resolution to oppose him. He decreed, that\nall the inhabitants of the Quinze Vingt were clothed in white. The blind\npensioners believed him; and nothing was to be heard but their talk of\nwhite garments, though, in fact, they possessed not one of that color.\nAll their acquaintance laughed at them. They made their complaints to\nthe dictator, who received them very ill; he rebuked them as innovators,\nfreethinkers, rebels, who had suffered themselves to be seduced by the\nerrors of those who had eyes, and who presumed to doubt that their chief\nwas infallible. This contention gave rise to two parties.\n\nTo appease the tumult, the dictator issued a decree, importing that all\ntheir vestments were red. There was not one vestment of that color in\nthe Quinze Vingt. The poor men were laughed at more than ever.\nComplaints were again made by the community. The dictator rushed\nfuriously in; and the other blind men were as much enraged. They fought\na long time; and peace was not restored until the members of the Quinze\nVingt were permitted to suspend their judgments in regard to the color\nof their dress.\n\nA deaf man, reading this little history, allowed that these people,\nbeing blind, were to blame in pretending to judge of colors; but he\nremained steady to his own opinion, that those persons who were deaf\nwere the only proper judges of music.\n\n[Illustration: Boodh resting \"upon the face of the waters,\" supported by\nserpents.][1]\n\n\n[1] Boodhism, is described in _Webster's Dictionary_ as \"a system of\nreligion in Eastern Asia, embraced by more than one third of the human\nrace. It teaches that, at distant intervals, a Boodh, or deity, appears,\nto restore the world from a state of ignorance and decay, and then sinks\ninto a state of entire non-existence, or rather, perhaps, of bare\nexistence without attributes, action, or consciousness. This state,\ncalled _Nirvana_, or _Nicban_, is regarded as the ultimate supreme good,\nand the highest reward of virtue among men. Four Boodhs have thus\nappeared in the world, and passed into _Nirvana_, the last of whom,\nGaudama, became incarnate about 500 years before Christ, from his death,\nin 543 B.C., many thousand years will elapse before the appearance of\nanother; so that the system, in the mean time, is practically one of\npure atheism.\"\n\nThe serpent has ever been a significant emblem in religion and\nmythology. Being \"the most subtle beast of the field,\" it was naturally\naccepted as the emblem of wisdom. With its tail in its mouth it formed a\ncircle, which was regarded by the ancients as the emblem of eternity.\nMoses set up a brazen serpent on a cross in the wilderness as an emblem\nof healing. \u00c6sculapius, the god of medicine, is seen on ancient statues\nwith a serpent twining around a staff by his side, symbolizing health,\nprudence and foresight. Hygiea, the goddess of health, is represented in\nworks of art as a virgin dressed in a long robe and feeding a serpent\nfrom a cup. Mercury is always shown holding in his right hand a wand\nwith two twined serpents. The nine coiled serpents in the above\nengraving, correspond with the nine muses in the Grecian mythology. The\ncobra, whose poison is death, is an emblem of the destroying power, and\ndestruction, or rather change, symbolizes new formation, renovation or\ncreation. Thus eternal formation, proceeds from eternal destruction. The\nserpent also figures in a beautiful allegory concerning the introduction\nof knowledge among mankind, _i.e._, \"the knowledge of good and\nevil.\"--E.\n\n\n\n\nBABABEC.\n\n\nWhen I was in the city of Benarez, on the borders of the Ganges, the\ncountry of the ancient Brahmins, I endeavored to instruct myself in\ntheir religion and manners. I understood the Indian language tolerably\nwell. I heard a great deal, and remarked everything. I lodged at the\nhouse of my correspondent Omri, who was the most worthy man I ever knew.\nHe was of the religion of the Brahmins: I have the honor to be a\nMussulman. We never exchanged one word higher than another about Mahomet\nor Brahma. We performed our ablutions each on his own side; we drank of\nthe same sherbet, and we ate of the same rice, as if we had been two\nbrothers.\n\nOne day we went together to the pagoda of Gavani. There we saw several\nbands of Fakirs. Some of whom were Janguis, that is to say,\ncontemplative Fakirs; and others were disciples of the ancient\nGymnosophists, who led an active life. They all have a learned language\npeculiar to themselves; it is that of the most ancient Brahmins; and\nthey have a book written in this language, which they call the _Shasta_.\nIt is, beyond all contradiction, the most ancient book in all Asia, not\nexcepting the _Zend_.\n\nI happened by chance to cross in front of a Fakir, who was reading in\nthis book.\n\n\"Ah! wretched infidel!\" cried he, \"thou hast made me lose a number of\nvowels that I was counting, which will cause my soul to pass into the\nbody of a hare instead of that of a parrot, with which I had before the\ngreatest reason to flatter myself.\"\n\nI gave him a rupee to comfort him for the accident. In going a few paces\nfarther, I had the misfortune to sneeze. The noise I made roused a\nFakir, who was in a trance.\n\n\"Heavens!\" cried he, \"what a dreadful noise. Where am I? I can no longer\nsee the tip of my nose,--the heavenly light has disappeared.\"\n\n\"If I am the cause,\" said I, \"of your not seeing farther than the length\nof your nose, here is a rupee to repair the great injury I have done\nyou. Squint again, my friend, and resume the heavenly light.\"\n\nHaving thus brought myself off discreetly enough, I passed over to the\nside of the Gymnosophists, several of whom brought me a parcel of mighty\npretty nails to drive into my arms and thighs, in honor of Brahma. I\nbought their nails, and made use of them to fasten down my boxes. Others\nwere dancing upon their hands, others cut capers on the slack rope, and\nothers went always upon one foot. There were some who dragged a heavy\nchain about with them, and others carried a packsaddle; some had their\nheads always in a bushel--the best people in the world to live with. My\nfriend Omri took me to the cell of one of the most famous of these. His\nname was Bababec: he was as naked as he was born, and had a great chain\nabout his neck, that weighed upwards of sixty pounds. He sat on a wooden\nchair, very neatly decorated with little points of nails that penetrated\ninto his flesh; and you would have thought he had been sitting on a\nvelvet cushion. Numbers of women flocked to him to consult him. He was\nthe oracle of all the families in the neighborhood; and was, truly\nspeaking, in great reputation. I was witness to a long conversation that\nOmri had with him.\n\n[Illustration: The Fakir.]\n\n\n\n     RELIGIOUS ZEAL.\n\n\n     The most earnest and zealous advocates of modern Christianity are,\n     undoubtedly, to be found in the ranks of that grotesque\n     organization known as the \"Salvation Army\"; but the wildest efforts\n     of these misguided propagandists fall far short of the intense\n     religious fervor displayed by the zealous followers of Brahma.\n\n     A contributor to Cassell's _Illustrated Travels_ describes a\n     religious festival which he witnessed a few years ago at Hurdwar on\n     the Ganges, while on an elephant shooting expedition in the Dehra\n     Dhoon, Northern India, which vividly illustrates the folly and\n     fanaticism of these degraded religious devotees, and which is only\n     second in repulsiveness to the horrible ceremonies of Juggernaut.\n\n     \"There is,\" says this writer, \"a religious festival every year at\n     Hurdwar, but every sixth year the ceremonies are more holy and the\n     crowd of pilgrims larger. The _Koom Mela_, a religious feast of\n     great holiness in native eyes, occurs every eleven years, and the\n     pilgrims on such occasions arrive from every part of India. The\n     crowd usually numbers over two millions. But it is when the\n     festivals occurring at intervals of six years and at intervals of\n     eleven years happen to meet in the same year that the crowd is the\n     largest, the importance of the fair greatest, and the concourse of\n     fanatic fakirs and holy Brahmins, from every hole and corner of\n     India, the most striking and remarkable. Merchants arrive from the\n     most distant countries; not from different parts of India only, but\n     from Persia, Thibet, China, Afghanistan, and even from Russia. It\n     was one of these festivals and giant fairs that we had the good\n     fortune to see.\n\n     \"As the day of the great festival approaches, the fakirs--who by\n     the way are always stark naked, and generally as disgusting\n     specimens of humanity as it is possible to conceive--and the\n     Brahmins, excite their hearers by increasingly-fervent speeches, by\n     self-applied tortures, frightful contortions, and wild dances and\n     gestures, to which the crowd loudly responds by shouts and wild\n     yells. Early on the morning of the day which to their mind is more\n     holy than any other in their whole lifetime, the assembled people\n     to the number of two or even three millions, repair to the ghauts\n     and patiently wait for the signal, to begin their work of\n     regeneration and salvation. This desirable end is attained by each\n     and every individual who within a certain time, during the tinkling\n     of a well-known bell, precipitates himself into the river, washes\n     himself thoroughly, and repeats a short prayer. This done, the\n     pilgrim must leave the river again, and if he has not entered it\n     until the bell began to tinkle, and has succeeded in going through\n     his performance and left the water again before the sound of the\n     bell has ceased, his sins from his birth are remitted and washed\n     away, and his happy future after death is assured, unless he\n     commits some specifically named and very enormous sins. The other\n     pilgrims, who by reason of the great crowd cannot reach the water\n     in time to go through the whole performance as required by the\n     Brahmins, receive blessings commensurate with the length of their\n     stay in the water while the bell was ringing. Even the unfortunate\n     pilgrims who altogether fail to enter the water at the right\n     moment, are consoled by the partial removal of their load of\n     wickedness; but the blessings which accompany a full performance of\n     what the Brahmins require, are so superior to the favors following\n     an incomplete or tardy immersion, that it is not strange\n     extraordinary efforts are made to enter the water at the first\n     sound of the bells and gongs.\n\n     \"The crowd was made up of men and women of half-a-hundred tribes of\n     nations, in every variety of dress and partial nakedness. Many men\n     wore their loincloths only; the women's hair was loose and flying\n     to the wind; all were newly and hideously painted; many were\n     intoxicated, not only with opium and spirits, but with religious\n     frenzy and impatient waiting. As the exciting moment approached\n     shouts rent the air; the priests harangued louder and louder; the\n     fakirs grew wilder and more incoherent; then gradually the great\n     noise subsided, when suddenly a single bell, immediately followed\n     by a hundred more, broke the silence, and with one accord, shouting\n     like madmen, the people rushed forward and the foremost ranks threw\n     themselves into the water. Then there arose a mighty shout, the\n     many gongs joined in, and the bells redoubled their efforts. But\n     the confusion, the crushing, the struggling for very life, the\n     surging of the mad masses at the water's edge, defy all\n     description.\n\n     \"As the first rows of men and women reached the water they were\n     upset and overturned by the people in their rear, who passed over\n     them into still deeper water, and in their turn suffered the same\n     fate at the bands of the on-rushing crowd behind them, until deep\n     water was reached.... The shouts of excitement were changed to\n     shrieks and passionate cries for help; the men under water\n     struggled with those above them: weak women were carried out by the\n     stream or trampled on; men pulled each other down, and in their mad\n     fear exerted their utmost strength without object or purpose. Then\n     the survivors, trying to escape from the water, met the yet dry\n     crowd still charging down to death, and this increased the dire\n     confusion. It was a horrid sight, and one I was quite unprepared\n     for, notwithstanding all I had heard before.\"--E.\n\n\n\n\"Do you think, father,\" said my friend, \"that after having gone through\nseven metempsichoses, I may at length arrive at the habitation of\nBrahma?\"\n\n\"That is as it may happen,\" said the Fakir. \"What sort of life do you\nlead?\"\n\n\"I endeavor,\" answered Omri, \"to be a good subject, a good husband, a\ngood father, and a good friend. I lend money without interest to the\nrich who want it, and I give it to the poor: I always strive to preserve\npeace among my neighbors.\"\n\n\"But have you ever run nails into your flesh?\" demanded the Brahmin.\n\n\"Never, reverend father.\"\n\n\"I am sorry for it,\" replied the father; \"very sorry for it, indeed. It\nis a thousand pities; but you will certainly not reach above the\nnineteenth heaven.\"\n\n\"No higher!\" said Omri. \"In truth, I am very well contented with my lot.\nWhat is it to me whether I go into the nineteenth or the twentieth,\nprovided I do my duty in my pilgrimage, and am well received at the end\nof my journey? Is it not as much as one can desire, to live with a fair\ncharacter in this world, and be happy with Brahma in the next? And pray\nwhat heaven do you think of going to, good master Bababec, with your\nchain?\"\n\n\"Into the thirty-fifth,\" said Bababec.\n\n\"I admire your modesty,\" replied Omri, \"to pretend to be better lodged\nthan me. This is surely the result of an excessive ambition. How can\nyou, who condemn others that covet honors in this world, arrogate such\ndistinguished ones to yourself in the next? What right have you to be\nbetter treated than me? Know that I bestow more alms to the poor in ten\ndays, than the nails you run into your flesh cost for ten years? What is\nit to Brahma that you pass the whole day stark naked with a chain about\nyour neck? This is doing a notable service to your country, doubtless! I\nhave a thousand times more esteem for the man who sows pulse or plants\ntrees, than for all your tribe, who look at the tips of their noses, or\ncarry packsaddles, to show their magnanimity.\"\n\nHaving finished this speech, Omri softened his voice, embraced the\nBrahmin, and, with an endearing sweetness, besought him to throw aside\nhis nails and his chain, to go home with him, and live with decency and\ncomfort.\n\nThe Fakir was persuaded, he was washed clean, rubbed with essences and\nperfumes, and clad in a decent habit; he lived a fortnight in this\nmanner, behaved with prudence and wisdom, and acknowledged that he was a\nthousand times happier than before; but he lost his credit among the\npeople, the women no longer crowded to consult him; he therefore quitted\nthe house of the friendly Omri, and returned to his nails and his chain,\n_to regain his reputation_.\n\n[Illustration: Sphinx.]\n\n[Illustration: The study of nature.]\n\n\n\n\nTHE STUDY OF NATURE.\n\n\n\n\nI.\n\nINTRODUCTION.\n\n\nThere can be no doubt that everything in the world is governed by\nfatality. My own life is a convincing proof of this doctrine. An English\nlord, with whom I was a great favorite, had promised me that I should\nhave the first living that fell to his gift. An old incumbent of eighty\nhappened to die, and I immediately traveled post to London to remind the\nearl of his promise. I was honored with an immediate interview, and was\nreceived with the greatest kindness. I informed his lordship of the\ndeath of the rector, and of the hope I cherished relative to the\ndisposal of the vacant living. He replied that I really looked very ill.\nI answered that, thanks to God, my greatest affliction was poverty. I am\nsorry for you, said his lordship, and he politely dismissed me with a\nletter of introduction to a Mr. Sidrac, who dwelt in the vicinity of\nGuildhall. I ran as fast as I could to this gentleman's house, not\ndoubting but that he would immediately install me in the wished for\nliving. I delivered the earl's letter, and Mr. Sidrac, who had the honor\nto be my lord's surgeon, asked me to sit down, and, producing a case of\nsurgical instruments, began to assure me that he would perform an\noperation which he trusted would very soon relieve me.\n\nYou must know, that his lordship had understood that I was suffering\nfrom some dreadful complaint, and that he generously intended to have me\ncured at his own expense. The earl had the misfortune to be as deaf as a\npost, a fact with which I, alas! had not been previously acquainted.\n\nDuring the time which I lost in defending myself against the attacks of\nMr. Sidrac, who insisted positively upon curing me, whether I would or\nno, one out of the fifty candidates who were all on the lookout, came to\ntown, flew to my lord, begged the vacant living--and obtained it.\n\nI was deeply in love with an interesting girl, a Miss Fidler, who had\npromised to marry me upon condition of my being made rector. My\nfortunate rival not only got the living, but also my mistress into the\nbargain!\n\nMy patron, upon being told of his mistake, promised to make me ample\namends, but alas! he died two days afterwards.\n\nMr. Sidrac demonstrated to me that, according to his organic structure,\nmy good patron could not have lived one hour longer. He also clearly\nproved that the earl's deafness proceeded entirely from the extreme\ndryness of the drums of his ears, and kindly offered, by an application\nof spirits of wine, to harden both of my ears to such a degree that I\nshould, in one month only, become as deaf as any peer of the realm.\n\nI discovered Mr. Sidrac to be a man of profound knowledge. He inspired\nme with a taste for the study of nature, and I could not but be sensible\nof the valuable acquisition I had made in acquiring the friendship of a\nman who was capable of relieving me, should I need his services.\nFollowing his advice, I applied myself closely to the study of nature,\nto console myself for the loss of the rectory and of my enchanting Miss\nFidler.\n\n\n\n\nII.\n\nTHE STUDY OF NATURE.\n\n\nAfter making many profound observations upon nature, (having employed in\nthe research, my five senses, my spectacles, and a very large\ntelescope,) I said one day to Mr. Sidrac, unless I am much deceived,\nphilosophy laughs at us. I cannot discover any trace of what the world\ncalls nature; on the contrary, everything seems to me to be the result\nof art. By art the planets are made to revolve around the sun, while the\nsun revolves on its own axis. I am convinced that some genius has\narranged things in such a manner, that the square of the revolutions of\nthe planets is always in proportion to the cubic root from their\ndistance to their centre, and one had need be a magician to find out how\nthis is accomplished. The tides of the sea are the result of art no less\nprofound and no less difficult to explain.\n\nAll animals, vegetables and minerals are arranged with due regard to\nweight and measure, number and motion. All is performed by springs,\nlevers, pullies, hydraulic machines, and chemical combinations, from the\ninsignificant flea to the being called man, from the grass of the field\nto the far spreading oak, from a grain of sand to a cloud in the\nfirmament of heaven. Assuredly, everything is governed by art, and the\nword _nature_ is but a chimera.\n\nWhat you say, answered Mr. Sidrac, has been said many years ago, and so\nmuch the better, for the probability is greater that your remark is\ntrue. I am always astonished when I reflect, that a grain of wheat cast\ninto the earth will produce in a short time above a handful of the same\ncorn. Stop, said I, foolishly, you forget that wheat must die before it\ncan spring up again, at least so they say at college. My friend Sidrac,\nlaughing heartily at this interruption, replied. That assertion went\ndown very well a few years ago, when it was first published by an\napostle called Paul; but in our more enlightened age, the meanest\nlaborer knows that the thing is altogether too ridiculous even for\nargument.\n\nMy dear friend, said I, excuse the absurdity of my remark, I have\nhitherto been a theologian, and one cannot divest one's self in a moment\nof every silly opinion.\n\n\n\n\nIII.\n\nGOOD ADVICE.\n\n\nSome time after this conversation between the disconsolate person, whom\nwe shall call Goodman, and the clever anatomist, Mr. Sidrac, the latter,\none fine morning, observed his friend in St. James's Park, standing in\nan attitude of deep thought. What is the matter? said the surgeon. Is\nthere anything amiss? No, replied Goodman, but I am left without a\npatron in the world since the death of my friend, who had the misfortune\nto be so deaf. Now supposing there be only ten thousand clergymen in\nEngland, and granting these ten thousand have each two patrons, the odds\nagainst my obtaining a bishopric are twenty thousand to one; a\nreflection quite sufficient to give any man the blue-devils. I remember,\nit was once proposed to me, to go out as cabin-boy to the East Indies. I\nwas told that I should make my fortune. But as I did not think I should\nmake a good admiral, whenever I should arrive at the distinction, I\ndeclined; and so, after turning my attention to every profession under\nthe sun, I am fixed for life as a poor clergyman, good for nothing.\n\nThen be a clergyman no longer! cried Sidrac, and turn philosopher: what\nis your income? Only thirty guineas a year, replied Goodman; although at\nthe death of my mother, it will be increased to fifty. Well, my dear\nGoodman, continued Sidrac, that sum is quite sufficient to support you\nin comfort. Thirty guineas are six hundred and thirty shillings, almost\ntwo shillings a day. With this fixed income, a man need do nothing to\nincrease it, but is at perfect liberty to say all he thinks of the East\nIndia Company, the House of Commons, the king and all the royal family,\nof man generally and individually, and lastly, of God and his\nattributes; and the liberty we enjoy of expressing our thoughts upon\nthese most interesting topics, is certainly very agreeable and amusing.\n\nCome and dine at my table every day. That will save you some little\nmoney. We will afterwards amuse ourselves with conversation, and your\nthinking faculty will have the pleasure of communicating with mine by\nmeans of speech, which is certainly a very wonderful thing, though its\nadvantages are not duly appreciated by the greater part of mankind.\n\n[Illustration: The poor clergyman.--\"I remember, it was once proposed to\nme, to go out as cabin-boy to the East Indies. I was told that I should\nmake my fortune. But as I did not think I should make a good admiral,\nwhenever I should arrive at the distinction, I declined; and so, after\nturning my attention to every profession under the sun, I am fixed for\nlife as a poor clergyman, good for nothing.\"]\n\n\n\n\nIV.\n\nDIALOGUE UPON THE SOUL AND OTHER TOPICS.\n\n\nGOODMAN.--But my dear Sidrac, why do you always say _my thinking\nfaculty_ and not _my soul_? If you used the latter term I should\nunderstand you much better.\n\nSIDRAC.--And for my part, I freely confess, I should not understand\nmyself. I _feel_, I _know_, that God has endowed me with the faculties\nof thinking and speaking, but I can neither _feel_ nor _know_ that God\nhas given me a thing called a soul.\n\nGOODMAN.--Truly upon reflection, I perceive that I know as little about\nthe matter as you do, though I own that I have, all my life, been bold\nenough to believe that I knew. I have often remarked that the eastern\nnations apply to the soul the same word they use to express life. After\ntheir example, the Latins understood the word _anima_ to signify the\nlife of the animal. The Greeks called the breath the soul. The Romans\ntranslated the word breath by _spiritus_, and thence it is that the word\nspirit or soul is found in every modern nation. As it happens that no\none has ever seen this spirit or breath, our imagination has converted\nit into a being, which it is impossible to see or touch. The learned\ntell us, that the soul inhabits the body without having any place in it,\nthat it has the power of setting our different organs in motion without\nbeing able to reach and touch them, indeed, what has not been said upon\nthe subject? The great Locke knew into what a chaos these absurdities\nhad plunged the human understanding. In writing the only reasonable book\nupon metaphysics that has yet appeared in the world, he did not compose\na single chapter on the soul; and if by chance he now and then makes use\nof the word, he only introduces it to stand for intellect or mind.\n\nIn fact, every human being, in spite of Bishop Berkeley, is sensible\nthat he has a mind, and that this mind or intellect is capable of\nreceiving ideas; but no one can feel that there is another being--a\nsoul,--within him, which gives him motion, feeling and thought. It is,\nin fact, ridiculous to use words we do not understand, and to admit the\nexistence of beings of whom we cannot have the slightest knowledge.\n\nSIDRAC.--We are then agreed upon a subject which, for so many centuries,\nhas been a matter of dispute.\n\nGOODMAN.--And I must observe that I am surprised we should have agreed\nupon it so soon.\n\nSIDRAC. Oh! that is not so astonishing. We really wish to know what is\ntruth. If we were among the Academies, we should argue like the\ncharacters in Rabelais. If we had lived in those ages of darkness, the\nclouds of which so long enveloped Great Britain, one of us would very\nlikely have burned the other. We are so fortunate as to be born in an\nage comparatively reasonable; we easily discover what appears to us to\nbe truth, and we are not afraid to proclaim it.\n\nGOODMAN.--You are right, but I fear, that, after all, the truth we have\ndiscovered is not worth much. In mathematics, indeed, we have done\nwonders; from the most simple causes we have produced effects that would\nhave astonished Apollonius or Archimedes: but what have we proved in\nmetaphysics? Absolutely nothing but our own ignorance.\n\nSIDRAC.--And do you call that nothing? You grant the supreme Being has\ngiven you the faculties of feeling and thinking, he has in the same\nmanner given your feet the faculty of walking, your hands their\nwonderful dexterity, your stomach the capability of digesting food, and\nyour heart the power of throwing arterial blood into all parts of your\nbody. Everything we enjoy is derived from God, and yet we are totally\nignorant of the means by which he governs and conducts the universe. For\nmy own part, as Shakespeare says, I thank him for having taught me that,\nof the principles of things, I know absolutely nothing. It has always\nbeen a question, in what manner the soul acted upon the body. Before\nattempting to answer this question, I must be convinced that I have a\nsoul. Either God has given us this wonderful spark of intellect, or he\nhas gifted us with some principle that answers equally well. In either\ncase, we are still the creatures of his divine will and goodness, and\nthat is all I know about the matter.\n\nGOODMAN.--But if you do not know, tell me at least, what you are\ninclined to think upon the subject. You have opened skulls, and\ndissected the human f\u0153tus. Have you ever, in these, dissections,\ndiscovered any appearance of a soul?\n\nSIDRAC.--Not the least, and I have not been able to understand how an\nimmortal and spiritual essence, could dwell for months together in a\nmembrane. It appears to me difficult to conceive that this pretended\nsoul existed before the foundation of the body; for in what could it\nhave been employed during the many ages previous to its mysterious union\nwith flesh? Again! how can we imagine a spiritual principle waiting\npatiently in idleness during a whole eternity, in order to animate a\nmass of matter for a space of time, which, compared with eternity, is\nless than a moment?\n\nIt is worse still, when I am told that God forms immortal souls out of\nnothing, and then cruelly dooms them to an eternity of flames and\ntorments. What? burn a spirit, in which there can be nothing capable of\nburning; how can he burn the sound of a voice, or the wind that blows?\nthough both the sound and wind were material during the short time of\ntheir existence; but a pure spirit--a thought--a doubt--I am lost in the\nlabyrinth; on whichever side I turn, I find nothing but obscurity and\nabsurdity, impossibility and contradiction. But I am quite at ease when\nI say to myself God is master of all. He who can cause each star to hold\nits particular course through the broad expanse of the firmament, can\neasily give to us sentiments and ideas, without the aid of this atom,\ncalled the soul. It is certain that God has endowed all animals, in a\ngreater or lesser degree, with thought, memory, and judgment; he has\ngiven them life; it is demonstrated that they have feeling, since they\npossess all the organs of feeling; if then they have all this without a\nsoul, why is it improbable that we have none? and why do mankind flatter\nthemselves that they alone are gifted with a spiritual and immortal\nprinciple?\n\nGOODMAN.--Perhaps this idea arises from their inordinate vanity. I am\npersuaded that if the peacock could speak, he would boast of his soul,\nand would affirm that it inhabited his magnificent tail. I am very much\ninclined to believe with you, that God has created us thinking\ncreatures, with the faculties of eating, drinking, feeling, &c., without\ntelling us one word about the matter. We are as ignorant as the peacock\nI just mentioned, and he who said that we live and die without knowing\nhow, why, or wherefore, spoke nothing but the truth.\n\nSIDRAC.--A celebrated author, whose name I forget, calls us nothing more\nthan the puppets of Providence, and this seems to me to be a very good\ndefinition. An infinity of movements are necessary to our existence, but\nwe did not ourselves invent and produce motion. There is a Being who\nhas created light, caused it to move from the sun to our eyes in about\nseven minutes. It is only by means of motion that my five senses are put\nin action, and it is only by means of my senses that I have ideas, hence\nit follows that my ideas are derived from the great author of motion,\nand when he informs me how he communicates these ideas to me, I will\nmost sincerely thank him.\n\nGOODMAN.--And so will I. As it is I constantly thank him for having\npermitted me, as Epictetus says, to contemplate for a period of some\nyears this beautiful and glorious world. It is true that he could have\nmade me happier by putting me in possession of Miss Fidler and a good\nrectory; but still, such as I am, I consider myself as under a great\nobligation to God's parental kindness and care.\n\nSIDRAC.--You say that it is in the power of God to give you a good\nliving, and to make you still happier than you are at present. There are\nmany persons who would not scruple flatly to contradict this proposition\nof yours. Do you forget that you yourself sometimes complain of\nfatality? A man, and particularly a priest, ought never to contradict\none day an assertion he has perhaps made the day before. All is but a\nsuccession of links, and God is wiser than to break the eternal chain of\nevents, even for the sake of my dear friend Goodman.\n\nGOODMAN.--I did not foresee this argument when I was speaking of\nfatality; but to come at once to the point, if it be so, God is as much\na slave as myself.\n\nSIDRAC.--He is the slave of his will, of his wisdom, and of the laws\nwhich he has himself instituted; and it is impossible that he can\ninfringe upon any of them; because it is impossible that he can become\neither weak or inconsistent.\n\nGOODMAN.--But, my friend, what you say would tend to make us\nirreligious, for, if God cannot change any of the affairs of the world,\nwhat is the use of teasing him with prayers, or of singing hymns to his\npraise?\n\nSIDRAC.--Well! who bids you worship or pray to God? We praise a man\nbecause we think him vain; we entreat of him when we think him weak and\nlikely to change his purpose on account of our petitions. Let us do our\nduty to God, by being just and true to each other. In that consists our\nreal prayers, and our most heartfelt praises.\n\n[Illustration: Kwan-yin, the goddess of mercy.--Burmese Buddha.--Chinese\nfigure in ivory.][1]\n\n\n\n\nA CONVERSATION WITH A CHINESE.\n\n\nIn the year 1723, there was a Chinese in Holland, who was both a learned\nman and a merchant, two things that ought by no means to be\nincompatible; but which, thanks to the profound respect that is shown to\nmoney, and the little regard that the human species pay to merit, have\nbecome so among us.\n\nThis Chinese, who spoke a little Dutch, happened to be in a bookseller's\nshop at the same time that some literati were assembled there. He asked\nfor a book; they offered him Bossuet's _Universal History_, badly\ntranslated. At the title _Universal History_--\n\n\"How pleased am I,\" cried the Oriental, \"to have met with this book. I\nshall now see what is said of our great empire; of a nation that has\nsubsisted for upwards of fifty thousand years; of that long dynasty of\nemperors who have governed us for such a number of ages. I shall see\nwhat these Europeans think of the religion of our literati, and of that\npure and simple worship we pay to the Supreme Being. What a pleasure\nwill it be for me to find how they speak of our arts, many of which are\nof a more ancient date with us than the eras of all the kingdoms of\nEurope! I fancy the author will be greatly mistaken in relation to the\nwar we had about twenty-two thousand five hundred and fifty-two years\nago, with the martial people of Tonquin and Japan, as well as the solemn\nembassy that the powerful emperor of Mogulitian sent to request a body\nof laws from us in the year of the world 500000000000079123450000.\"\n\n\"Lord bless you,\" said one of the literati, \"there is hardly any mention\nmade of that nation in this world, the only nation considered is that\nmarvelous people, the Jews.\"\n\n\"The Jews!\" said the Chinese, \"those people then must certainly be\nmasters of three parts of the globe at least.\"\n\n\"They hope to be so some day,\" answered the other; \"but at present they\nare those pedlars you see going about here with toys and nicknacks, and\nwho sometimes do us the honor to clip our gold and silver.\"\n\n\"Surely you are not serious,\" exclaimed the Chinese. \"Could those people\never have been in possession of a vast empire?\"\n\nHere I joined in the conversation, and told him that for a few years\nthey were in possession of a small country to themselves; but that we\nwere not to judge of a people from the extent of their dominions, any\nmore than of a man by his riches.\n\n\"But does not this book take notice of some other nations?\" demanded the\nman of letters.\n\n\"Undoubtedly,\" replied a learned gentleman who stood at my elbow; \"it\ntreats largely of a small country about sixty leagues wide, called\nEgypt, in which it is said that there is a lake of one hundred and fifty\nleagues in circumference, made by the hands of man.\"\n\n\"My God!\" exclaimed the Chinese, \"a lake of one hundred and fifty\nleagues in circumference within a spot of ground only sixty leagues\nwide! This is very curious!\"\n\n\"The inhabitants of that country,\" continued the doctor, \"were all\nsages.\"\n\n\"What happy times were those!\" cried the Chinese; \"but is that all?\"\n\n\"No,\" replied the other, \"there is mention made of those famous people\nthe Greeks.\"\n\n\"Greeks! Greeks!\" said the Asiatic, \"who are those Greeks?\"\n\n\"Why,\" replied the philosopher, \"they were masters of a little province,\nabout the two hundredth part as large as China, but whose fame spread\nover the whole world.\"\n\n\"Indeed!\" said the Chinese, with an air of openness and ingenuousness;\n\"I declare I never heard the least mention of these people, either in\nthe Mogul's country, in Japan, or in Great Tartary.\"\n\n\"Oh, the barbarian! the ignorant creature!\" cried out our sage very\npolitely. \"Why then, I suppose you know nothing of Epaminondas the\nTheban, nor of the Pierian Heaven, nor the names of Achilles's two\nhorses, nor of Silenus's ass? You have never heard speak of Jupiter, nor\nof Diogenes, nor of Lais, nor of Cybele, nor of--\"\n\n\"I am very much afraid,\" said the learned Oriental, interrupting him,\n\"that you know nothing of that eternally memorable adventure of the\nfamous Xixofon Concochigramki, nor of the masteries of the great\nFi-psi-hi-hi! But pray tell me what other unknown things does this\n_Universal History_ treat of?\"\n\nUpon this my learned neighbor harangued for a quarter of an hour\ntogether about the Roman republic, and when he came to Julius C\u00e6sar the\nChinese stopped him, and very gravely said.\n\n\"I think I have heard of him, was he not a Turk?\"\n\n\"How!\" cried our sage in a fury, \"don't you so much as know the\ndifference between Pagans, Christians, and Mahometans? Did you never\nhear of Constantine? Do you know nothing of the history of the popes?\"\n\n\"We have heard something confusedly of one Mahomet,\" replied the\nAsiatic.\n\n\"It is surely impossible,\" said the other, \"but that you must have heard\nat least of Luther, Zuinglius, Bellarmin, and \u0152colampadius.\"\n\n\"I shall never remember all those names,\" said the Chinese, and so\nsaying he quitted the shop, and went to sell a large quantity of Pekoa\ntea, and fine calico, and then after purchasing what merchandise he\nrequired, set sail for his own country, adoring _Tien_, and recommending\nhimself to Confucius.\n\nAs to myself, the conversation I had been witness to plainly discovered\nto me the nature of vain glory; and I could not forbear exclaiming:\n\n\"Since C\u00e6sar and Jupiter are names unknown to the finest, most ancient,\nmost extensive, most populous, and most civilized kingdom in the\nuniverse, it becomes ye well, O ye rulers of petty states! ye pulpit\norators of a narrow parish, or a little town! ye doctors of Salamanca,\nor of Bourges! ye trifling authors, and ye heavy commentators!--it\nbecomes you well, indeed, to aspire to fame and immortality.\"\n\n\n[1] According to Chambers' work on _The British Museum_, from which the\nabove cuts are copied, \"the Chinese, are a vast nation of some\n300,000,000 of souls, nearly a third part of the whole human race. The\nentire population is subject to the supreme and despotic authority of a\nsingle hereditary ruler who resides at Pekin, the chief city of the\nwhole empire. Under him the government is administered by a descending\nhierarchy of officials or mandarins, who are chosen from all ranks of\nthe people, according to their talents as displayed in the course, first\nof their education at school and college, and afterwards of their public\nlife. The officials are, in short, the men in highest repute for\nscholarship and accomplishments in the empire; and the whole system of\nthe government is that of promotion upwards from the ranks of the\npeople, according to merit. The Chinese generally are remarkable for\ncommon sense, orderliness, and frugal prudential habits. Printing and\npaper being cheap among them, and education universal, they have an\nimmense literature, chiefly in the departments of the drama, the novel,\nand the moral essay; their best writers of fiction are said to resemble\nRichardson in style, and their best moralists Franklin. The greatest\nname in their literature, or indeed in their history, is that of\nConfucius, a philosopher and religious teacher who lived about 500 years\nB.C., and who left a number of books expounding and enforcing the great\nmaxims of morality. During all the revolutions that have since elapsed,\nthe doctrines of Confucius have retained their hold of the Chinese mind,\nand the religion of China consists in little more than an attachment to\nthese doctrines, and a veneration for their founder. With abstract\nnotions of the Deity, and of the destiny of man when he quits this life,\nthe Chinese do not trouble themselves; a moral, correct life, and\nespecially an honorable discharge of the duties of a son and a citizen,\nis the whole aim of their piety. There are, however, some voluntary\nsects among them, who superinduce articles of speculative belief on the\nprosaic code of morality established by Confucius; and forms of\nreligious worship are practised over the whole country under the direct\nsanction of the government. There are a number of figures, larger and\nsmaller, of Chinese divinities, some of which are very neatly carved in\nivory, wood, and stone. With what precise feelings the more educated\nChinese address these images in prayer--whether they look upon them as\nsymbols, or whether, like Polytheists generally, they actually view the\ncarved figures themselves as gifted with powers--it would be difficult\nto say; the mass of the people, however, probably never ask the\nquestion, but, from the mere force of custom, come to regard such\nobjects as the figure of Kwan-yin, the goddess of mercy, and the larger\ngilt figures of the god and goddess, precisely as the Polytheistic\nGreeks or Romans regarded their statues in their temples; that is, as\nreal divinities with power for good or evil. The religious sentiment,\nhowever, sits very lightly on the Chinese. Absence of any feeling of the\nsupernatural is perhaps the most remarkable feature of the Chinese\ncharacter.\n\n\"Buddhism, was founded, as is generally believed, some centuries before\nChrist by a Hindoo prince and sage named Gautama. As originally\npropounded, Buddhism is supposed to have been a purer and more\nreasonable form of faith than Brahminism, recognising more clearly the\nspiritual and moral aims of religion; but, having been expelled from\nHindostan during the early centuries of our era, after having undergone\nsevere persecution from the Brahmins--at whose power it struck, by\nproscribing the system of castes---it sought refuge in the eastern\npeninsula, Ceylon, Thibet, Japan, and China, where it has been modified\nand corrupted into various forms.\"--E.\n\n[Illustration: The Birth of Minerva from the Brain of Jove.]\n\n[Illustration: The Birth of Eve from the Side Of Adam.]\n\n\n\n\n     ANDROGYNOUS DEITIES.\n\n\n     The ancients ascribed the existence of the universe to the fiat of\n     omnipotence. Almighty power conjoined with infinite wisdom had\n     produced the world and all that it inhabits. Man, the head of\n     visible creation, was formed in the image of the gods, but the gods\n     only were endowed with generative or creative power. These gods\n     were androgynous--that is, male and female--containing in one\n     person both the paternal and maternal attributes. Plato taught that\n     mankind, like the gods, were originally androgynous, and Moses\n     tells us that Eve, in matured wisdom and beauty, sprang forth from\n     the side of Adam, even as\n\n           \"From great Jove's head, the armed Minerva sprung\n           With awful shout.\"\n\n     \"The thought of God as the Divine Mother,\" says a sincere and\n     intelligent clergyman in a sermon recently published, \"is a very\n     ancient one, found in the most early nature worships.\" \"We thank\n     Thee O God,\" says the Rev. Theodore Parker, \"that Thou art our\n     Father and our Mother.\" \"O God,\" says St. Augustine, \"Thou art the\n     Father, Thou the Mother of Thy children.\"\n\n     The preceding illustration of the birth of Minerva,--the goddess of\n     wisdom,--_i.e. wisdom issuing from the brain of Jove_, is from\n     Falkener's _Museum of Classical Antiquities_. It is taken from an\n     ancient Etruscan patera (mirror), now in the Museum at Bologna, and\n     is supposed to have been copied from the pediment of the eastern or\n     main entrance to the Parthenon, or temple of Minerva. This pediment\n     was the work of Phidias, and, like so many of the former monuments\n     of ancient art and civilization, is now forever lost to mankind.\n\n     \"The goddess,\" says the distinguished architect and antiquary M. De\n     Quincy, \"is shown issuing from the head of Jupiter. She has a\n     helmet on her head, buckler on her arm, and spear in her hand.\n     Jupiter is seated, holding a sceptre in one hand and a thunderbolt\n     in the other. On the right of the new born goddess is Juno, whose\n     arms are elevated, and who seems to have assisted at the\n     extraordinary childbirth. On the left of Jupiter is Venus,\n     recognizable by a sprig of myrtle and a dove. Behind Juno is\n     Vulcan, still armed with the axe which has cleft the head of the\n     god, and seeming to regard with admiration the success of his\n     operations.\"\n\n     The engraving representing the birth of Eve, is from the _Speculum\n     Salutis, or the Mirror of Salvation_, of which many manuscript\n     copies were issued, for the instruction of the mendicant friars,\n     between the twelfth and fifteenth centuries. \"Heineken describes a\n     copy in the imperial library of Vienna, which he attributes to the\n     twelfth century. He says, such was the popularity of the work with\n     the Benedictines that almost every monastery possessed a copy of\n     it. Of the four manuscript copies owned by the British Museum, one\n     is supposed to have been written in the thirteenth century, another\n     copy is in the Flemish writing of the fifteenth century.\" This\n     work, which contains several engravings and forty-five chapters of\n     barbarous Latin rhymes, presents a good illustration of Christian\n     art as it existed during the period immediately preceding the\n     revival of letters, when the barbarism and ignorance of the dark\n     ages had supplanted the artistic culture of ancient Greece and\n     Rome.\n\n     Unprejudiced readers will doubtless admit that the birth of Minerva\n     from the brain of Jove greatly resembles the birth of Eve from the\n     side of Adam, and these myths show the analogy existing between the\n     Jewish and Pagan mythologies; but the design and execution of the\n     respective engravings, show the retrogression in art that had taken\n     place between the time of the immortal Phidias and that of Pope\n     Innocent III.[1]--between Pagan civilization as it existed prior to\n     the Christian era, and the medieval barbarism of the successors of\n     St. Peter.\n\n     \"God created man in his own image,\" says Godfrey Higgins in the\n     _Anacalypsis_, (vol. 2, p. 397.) \"Everything was supposed to be in\n     the image of God; and thus man was created double--the male and\n     female in one person, or androgynous like God. By some uninitiated\n     Jews, of about the time of Christ, this double being was supposed\n     to have been created back to back [see the bearded Bacchus and\n     Ariadne on the following page]; but I believe, from looking at the\n     twins in all ancient zodiacs, it was side by side; precisely as we\n     have seen the Siamese boys,--but still _male_ and _female_.\n     Besides, the book of Genesis implies that they were side by side,\n     by the woman being taken from the _side_ of man. Among the Indians\n     the same doctrine is found, as we might expect.\"\n\n     \"We must rise to man,\" says the eloquent clergyman previously\n     referred to, \"in order to know rightly what God is. Humanity\n     plainly images a power which is at once the source and pattern of\n     the womanly as well as of the manly qualities, inasmuch as woman as\n     well as man is needed to fill out the idea of humanity. The womanly\n     traits--pity, forgiveness, gentleness, patience, sympathy,\n     unselfishness--are as worthy of the Divine Being as the manly\n     traits.\"--E.\n\n\n\n     [1] \"It was,\" says Gibbon, \"at the feet of his legate that John of\nEngland surrendered his crown; and Innocent may boast of the two most\nsignal triumphs over sense and humanity, the establishment of\ntranssubstantiation, and the origin of the inquisition.\"\n\n\n\n[Illustration: Bacchus and Ariadne.][1]\n\n\n\n\nPLATO'S DREAM.\n\n\nPlato was a great dreamer, as many others have been since his time. He\ndreampt that mankind were formerly double; and that, as a punishment for\ntheir crimes, they were divided into male and female.\n\nHe undertook to prove that there can be no more than five perfect\nworlds, because there are but five regular mathematical bodies. His\nRepublic was one of his principal dreams. He dreampt, moreover, that\nwatching arises from sleep, and sleep from watching; and that a person\nwho should attempt to look at an eclipse, otherwise than in a pail of\nwater, would surely lose his sight. Dreams were, at that time, in great\nrepute.\n\nHere follows one of his dreams, which is not one of the least\ninteresting. He thought that the great Demiurgos, the eternal geometer,\nhaving peopled the immensity of space with innumerable globes, was\nwilling to make a trial of the knowledge of the genii who had been\nwitnesses of his works. He gave to each of them a small portion of\nmatter to arrange, nearly in the same manner as Phidias and Zeuxis would\nhave given their scholars a statue to carve, or a picture to paint, if\nwe may be allowed to compare small things to great.\n\n[Illustration: Envy.]\n\nDemogorgon had for his lot the lump of mould, which we call the Earth;\nand having formed it, such as it now appears, he thought he had executed\na masterpiece. He imagined he had silenced Envy herself, and expected to\nreceive the highest panegyrics, even from his brethren; but how great\nwas his surprise, when, at his next appearing among them, they received\nhim with a general hiss.\n\nOne among them, more satirical than the rest, accosted him thus:\n\n\"Truly you have performed mighty feats! you have divided your world into\ntwo parts; and, to prevent the one from having communication with the\nother, you have carefully placed a vast collection of waters between the\ntwo hemispheres. The inhabitants must perish with cold under both your\npoles, and be scorched to death under the equator. You have, in your\ngreat prudence, formed immense deserts of sand, so that all who travel\nover them may die with hunger and thirst. I have no fault to find with\nyour cows, your sheep, your cocks, and your hens; but can never be\nreconciled to your serpents and your spiders. Your onions and your\nartichokes are very good things, but I cannot conceive what induced you\nto scatter such a heap of poisonous plants over the face of the earth,\nunless it was to poison its inhabitants. Moreover, if I am not mistaken,\nyou have created about thirty different kinds of monkeys, a still\ngreater number of dogs, and only four or five species of the human race.\nIt is true, indeed, you have bestowed on the latter of these animals a\nfaculty by you called Reason; but, in truth, this same reason is a very\nridiculous thing, and borders very near upon folly. Besides, you do not\nseem to have shown any very great regard to this two-legged creature,\nseeing you have left him with so few means of defense; subjected him to\nso many disorders, and provided him with so few remedies; and formed him\nwith such a multitude of passions, and so small a portion of wisdom or\nprudence to resist them. You certainly was not willing that there should\nremain any great number of these animals on the earth at once; for,\nwithout reckoning the dangers to which you have exposed them, you have\nso ordered matters that, taking every day through the year, the small\npox will regularly carry off the tenth part of the species, and sister\nmaladies will taint the springs of life in the nine remaining parts; and\nthen, as if this was not sufficient, you have so disposed things, that\none-half of those who survive will be occupied in going to law with each\nother, or cutting one another's throats.\n\n\"Now, they must doubtless be under infinite obligations to you, and it\nmust be owned you have executed a masterpiece.\"\n\nDemogorgon blushed. He was sensible there was much moral and physical\nevil in this affair; but still he insisted there was more good than ill\nin it.\n\n\"It is an easy matter to find fault, good folks,\" said the genii; \"but\ndo you imagine it is so easy to form an animal, who, having the gift of\nreason and free-will, shall not sometimes abuse his liberty? Do you\nthink that, in rearing between nine and ten thousand different plants,\nit is so easy to prevent some few from having noxious qualities? Do you\nsuppose that, with a certain quantity of water, sand, and mud, you could\nmake a globe that should have neither seas nor deserts?\"\n\n\"As for you, my sneering friend, I think you have just finished the\nplanet Jupiter. Let us see now what figure you make with your great\nbelts, and your long nights, with four moons to enlighten them. Let us\nexamine your worlds, and see whether the inhabitants you have made are\nexempt from follies or diseases.\"\n\nAccordingly the genii fell to examining the planet Jupiter, when the\nlaugh went strongly against the laugher. The serious genii who had made\nthe planet Saturn, did not escape without his share of the censure, and\nhis brother operators, the makers of Mars, Mercury, and Venus, had each\nin his turn some reproaches to undergo.\n\nSeveral large volumes, and a great number of pamphlets, were written on\nthis occasion; smart sayings and witty repartees flew about on all\nsides; they railed against and ridiculed each other; and, in short, the\ndisputes were carried on with all the warmth of party heat, when the\neternal Demiurgos thus imposed silence on them all:\n\n\"In your several performances there is both good and bad, because you\nhave a great share of understanding, but at the same time fall short of\nperfection. Your works will not endure above an hundred millions of\nyears, after which you will acquire more knowledge, and perform much\nbetter. It belongs to me alone to create things perfect and immortal.\"\n\nThis was the doctrine Plato taught his disciples. One of them, when he\nhad finished his harangue, cried out, \"_And so you then awoke?_\"\n\n\n[1] The above representation of a bearded Bacchus and Ariadne is from\nFalkener's _Museum of Classical Antiquities_. The statue was found at\nPompeii in 1847.--E.\n\n[Illustration: Plato.]\n\n[Illustration: Visiting Seignior Pococurante.]\n\n\n\n\nPLEASURE IN HAVING NO PLEASURE.\n\n\n\"Hitherto,\" said Candide to Martin, \"I have met with none but\nunfortunate people in the whole habitable globe, except in El Dorado,\nbut, observe those gondoliers, are they not perpetually singing?\"\n\n\"You do not see them,\" answered Martin, \"at home with their wives and\nbrats. The doge has his chagrin, gondoliers theirs. Nevertheless, in the\nmain, I look upon the gondolier's life as preferable to that of the\ndoge; but the difference is so trifling, that it is not worth the\ntrouble of examining into.\"\n\n\"I have heard great talk,\" said Candide, \"of the Senator Pococurante,\nwho lives in that fine house at the Brenta, where, they say, he\nentertains foreigners in the most polite manner. They pretend this man\nis a perfect stranger to uneasiness.\"\n\n\"I should be glad to see so extraordinary a being,\" said Martin.\n\nCandide thereupon sent a messenger to Seignior Pococurante, desiring\npermission to wait on him the next day.\n\nAccordingly, Candide and his friend Martin went in a gondola on the\nBrenta, and arrived at the palace of the noble Pococurante. The gardens\nwere laid out in elegant taste, and adorned with fine marble statues;\nhis palace was built after the most approved rules in architecture. The\nmaster of the house, who was a man of sixty, and very rich, received our\ntwo travelers with great politeness, but without much ceremony, which\nsomewhat disconcerted Candide, but was not at all displeasing to Martin.\n\nAs soon as they were seated, two very pretty girls, neatly dressed,\nbrought in chocolate, which was extremely well frothed. Candide could\nnot help making encomiums upon their beauty and graceful carriage.\n\n\"The creatures are well enough,\" said the senator, \"but I am heartily\ntired of women, of their coquetry, their jealousy, their quarrels, their\nhumors, their vanity, their pride, and their folly; I am weary of making\nsonnets, or of paying for sonnets to be made on them; and, after all,\nthose two girls begin to grow very indifferent to me.\"\n\nAfter having refreshed himself, Candide walked into a large gallery,\nwhere he was struck with the sight of a fine collection of paintings.\n\n\"Pray,\" said Candide, \"by what master are the first two of these?\"\n\n\"They are Raphael's,\" answered the senator. \"I gave a great deal of\nmoney for them seven years ago, purely out of curiosity, as they were\nsaid to be the finest pieces in Italy; but I cannot say they please me:\nthe coloring is dark and heavy; the figures do not swell nor come out\nenough, and the drapery is very bad. In short, notwithstanding the\nencomiums lavished upon them, they are not, in my opinion, a true\nrepresentation of nature. I approve of no paintings but where I think I\nbehold nature herself; and there are very few, if any, of that kind to\nbe met with. I have what is called a fine collection, but it affords me\nno delight.\"\n\nWhile dinner was getting ready, Pococurante ordered a concert. Candide\npraised the music to the skies.\n\n\"This noise,\" said the noble Venetian, \"may amuse one for a little time,\nbut if it were to last above half an hour, it would grow very tiresome,\nthough perhaps no one would care to own it. Music has become the art of\nexecuting that which is difficult. Now whatever is difficult cannot long\ncontinue pleasing. I might take more pleasure in an opera if they had\nnot made that species of dramatic entertainment so shockingly monstrous;\nand I am amazed that people can bear to see wretched tragedies set to\nmusic, where the scenes are contrived for no other purpose than to lug\nin, as it were by the ears, three or four ridiculous songs, to give a\nfavorite actress an opportunity of exhibiting her voice. Let who will or\ncan die away in raptures at the trills of an eunuch quavering the\nmajestic part of C\u00e6sar or Cato, and strutting in a foolish manner on the\nstage; for my part, I have long ago renounced these paltry\nentertainments, which constitute the glory of modern Italy, and are so\ndearly purchased by crowned heads.\"\n\nCandide opposed these sentiments; but he did it in a discreet manner; as\nfor Martin, he was entirely of the old senator's opinion.\n\nDinner being served up, they sat down to table, and after a very hearty\nrepast returned to the library. Candide observing Homer richly bound,\ncommended the noble Venetian's taste.\n\n\"This,\" said he, \"is a book that was once the delight of the great\nPangloss, the best philosopher in Germany.\"\n\n\"Homer is no favorite of mine,\" answered Pococurante, very coolly: \"I\nwas made to believe once that I took a pleasure in reading him; but his\ncontinual repetitions of battles have all such a resemblance with each\nother; his gods, that are forever in a hurry and bustle without ever\ndoing anything; his Helen, that is the cause of the war, and yet hardly\nacts in the whole performance; his Troy, that holds out so long, without\nbeing taken; in short, all these things together make the poem very\ninsipid to me. I have asked some learned men, whether they are not in\nreality as much tired as myself with reading this poet? Those who spoke\ningenuously, assured me that he had made them fall asleep; and yet, that\nthey could not well avoid giving him a place in their libraries; but it\nwas merely as they would do an antique, or those rusty medals which are\nkept only for curiosity, and are of no manner of use in commerce.\"\n\n\"But your excellency does not surely form this same opinion of Virgil?\"\nsaid Candide.\n\n\"Why, I grant,\" replied Pococurante, \"that the second, third, fourth,\nand sixth book, of his \u00c6neid are excellent; but as for his pious \u00c6neas,\nhis strong Cloanthus, his friendly Achates, his boy Ascanius, his silly\nKing Latinus, his ill-bred Amata, his insipid Lavinia, and some other\ncharacters much in the same strain, I think there cannot be in nature\nanything more flat and disagreeable. I must confess, I much prefer Tasso\nto him; nay, even that sleepy tale-teller Ariosto.\"\n\n\"May I take the liberty to ask if you do not receive great pleasure from\nreading Horace?\" said Candide.\n\n\"There are maxims in this writer,\" replied Pococurante, \"from whence a\nman of the world may reap some benefit; and the short measure of the\nverse makes them more easy to retain in the memory. But I see nothing\nextraordinary in his journey to Brundusium, and his account of his bad\ndinner; nor in his dirty low quarrel between one Rupilius, whose words,\nas he expresses it, were full of poisonous filth; and another, whose\nlanguage was dipped in vinegar. His indelicate verses against old women\nand witches have frequently given me great offense; nor can I discover\nthe great merit of his telling his friend Mec\u00e6nas, that if he will but\nrank him in the class of lyric poets, his lofty head shall touch the\nstars. Ignorant readers are apt to praise everything by the lump in a\nwriter of reputation. For my part, I read only to please myself. I like\nnothing but that which makes for my purpose.\"\n\nCandide, who had been brought up with a notion of never making use of\nhis own judgment, was astonished at what he had heard; but Martin found\nthere was a good deal of reason in the senator's remarks.\n\n\"O! here is a Tully,\" said Candide: \"this great man, I fancy, you are\nnever tired of reading?\"\n\n\"Indeed, I never read him at all,\" replied Pococurante. \"What is it to\nme whether he pleads for Rabirius or Cluentius? I try causes enough\nmyself. I had once some liking for his philosophical works; but when I\nfound he doubted of everything, I thought I knew as much as himself,\n_and had no need of a guide to learn ignorance_.\n\n\"Ha!\" cried Martin, \"here are fourscore volumes of the _Memoirs of the\nAcademy of Sciences_. Perhaps there may be something curious and\nvaluable in this collection.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" answered Pococurante, \"so there might, if any one of these\ncompilers of this rubbish had only invented the art of pin-making; but\nall these volumes are filled with mere chimerical systems, without one\nsingle article conducive to real utility.\"\n\n\"I see a prodigious number of plays,\" said Candide, \"in Italian,\nSpanish, and French.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" replied the Venetian, \"there are, I think, three thousand, and\nnot three dozen of them good for anything. As to these huge volumes of\ndivinity, and those enormous collections of sermons, they are not\naltogether worth one single page in Seneca; and I fancy you will readily\nbelieve that neither myself, nor any one else, ever looks into them.\"\n\nMartin, perceiving some shelves filled with English books, said to the\nsenator:\n\n\"I fancy that a republican must be highly delighted with those books,\nwhich are most of them written with a noble spirit of freedom.\"\n\n\"It is noble to write as we think,\" said Pococurante; \"it is the\nprivilege of humanity. Throughout Italy we write only what we do not\nthink; and the present inhabitants of the country of the C\u00e6sars and\nAntoninuses dare not acquire a single idea without the permission of a\nfather dominican. I should be enamoured of the spirit of the English\nnation, did it not utterly frustrate the good effects it would produce,\nby passion and the spirit of party.\"\n\nCandide, seeing a Milton, asked the senator if he did not think that\nauthor a great man?\n\n\"Who?\" said Pococurante, sharply; \"that barbarian who writes a tedious\ncommentary in ten books of rambling verse on the first chapter of\nGenesis? that slovenly imitator of the Greeks, who disfigures the\ncreation by making the Messiah take a pair of compasses from heaven's\narmory to plan the world; whereas Moses represented the Deity as\nproducing the whole universe by his fiat? Can I, think you, have any\nesteem for a writer who has spoiled Tasso's hell and the devil? who\ntransforms Lucifer sometimes into a toad, and at others, into a pigmy?\nwho makes him say the same thing over again an hundred times? who\nmetamorphoses him into a school-divine? and who, by an absurdly serious\nimitation of Ariosto's comic invention of fire-arms, represents the\ndevils and angels cannonading each other in heaven? Neither I nor any\nother Italian can possibly take pleasure in such melancholy reveries;\nbut the marriage of sin and death, and snakes issuing from the womb of\nthe former, are enough to make any person sick that is not lost to all\nsense of delicacy. This obscene, whimsical, and disagreeable poem, met\nwith the neglect it deserved at its first publication; and I only treat\nthe author now as he was treated in his own country by his\ncontemporaries.\"\n\nCandide was sensibly grieved at this speech, as he had a great respect\nfor Homer, and was very fond of Milton.\n\n\"Alas!\" said he softly to Martin, \"I am afraid this man holds our German\npoets in great contempt.\"\n\n\"There would be no such great harm in that,\" said Martin.\n\n\"O, what a surprising man!\" said Candide still to himself; \"what a\ngenius is this Pococurante! nothing can please him.\"\n\nAfter finishing their survey of the library, they went down into the\ngarden, when Candide commended the several beauties that offered\nthemselves to his view.\n\n\"I know nothing upon earth laid out in such bad taste,\" said\nPococurante; \"everything about it is childish and trifling; but I shall\nsoon have another laid out upon a nobler plan.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Candide to Martin, as soon as our two travelers had taken\nleave of his excellency: \"I hope you will own, that this man is the\nhappiest of all mortals, for he is above everything he possesses.\"\n\n\"But do you not see,\" said Martin, \"that he likewise dislikes everything\nhe possesses? It was an observation of Plato, long since, that those are\nnot the best stomachs that reject, without distinction, all sorts of\naliments.\"\n\n\"True,\" said Candide; \"but still there must certainly be a pleasure in\ncriticising everything, and in perceiving faults where others think they\nsee beauties.\"\n\n\"That is,\" replied Martin, \"there is a pleasure in having no pleasure.\"\n\n[Illustration: The \"yawning oysters\" discovered by Pythagoras.]\n\n\n\n\nAN ADVENTURE IN INDIA.\n\n\nAll the world knows that Pythagoras, while he resided in India, attended\nthe school of the Gymnosophists, and learned the language of beasts and\nplants.[1] One day, while he was walking in a meadow near the seashore,\nhe heard these words:\n\n\"How unfortunate that I was born an herb! I scarcely attain two inches\nin height, when a voracious monster, an horrid animal, tramples me under\nhis large feet; his jaws are armed with rows of sharp scythes, by which\nhe cuts, then grinds, and then swallows me. Men call this monster a\nsheep. I do not suppose there is in the whole creation a more detestable\ncreature.\"\n\nPythagoras proceeded a little way and found an oyster yawning on a small\nrock. He had not yet adopted that admirable law, by which we are\nenjoined not to eat those animals which have a resemblance to us.[2] He\nhad scarcely taken up the oyster to swallow it, when it spoke these\naffecting words:\n\n\"O, Nature, how happy is the herb, which is, as I am, thy work! though\nit be cut down, it is regenerated and immortal; and we, poor oysters, in\nvain are defended by a double cuirass: villains eat us by dozens at\ntheir breakfast, and all is over with us forever. What an horrible fate\nis that of an oyster, and how barbarous are men!\"\n\nPythagoras shuddered; he felt the enormity of the crime he had nearly\ncommitted; he begged pardon of the oyster with tears in his eyes, and\nreplaced it very carefully on the rock.\n\nAs he was returning to the city, profoundly meditating on this\nadventure, he saw spiders devouring flies; swallows eating spiders, and\nsparrow-hawks eating swallows. \"None of these,\" said he, \"are\nphilosophers.\"\n\nOn his entrance, Pythagoras was stunned, bruised, and thrown down by a\nlot of tatterdemalions, who were running and crying: \"Well done, he\nfully deserved it.\" \"Who? What?\" said Pythagoras, as he was getting up.\nThe people continued running and crying: \"O how delightful it will be to\nsee them boiled!\"\n\nPythagoras supposed they meant lentiles, or some other vegetables: but\nhe was in an error; they meant two poor Indians. \"Oh!\" said Pythagoras,\n\"these Indians, without doubt, are two great philosophers weary of their\nlives, they are desirous of regenerating under other forms; it affords\npleasure to a man to change his place of residence, though he may be but\nindifferently lodged: there is no disputing on taste.\"[3]\n\nHe proceeded with the mob to the public square, where he perceived a\nlighted pile of wood, and a bench opposite to it, which was called a\ntribunal. On this bench judges were seated, each of whom had a cow's\ntail in his hand, and a cap on his head, with ears resembling those of\nthe animal which bore Silenus when he came into that country with\nBacchus, after having crossed the Erytrean sea without wetting a foot,\nand stopping the sun and moon; as it is recorded with great fidelity in\nthe Orphicks.\n\nAmong these judges there was an honest man with whom Pythagoras was\nacquainted. The Indian sage explained to the sage of Samos the nature of\nthat festival to be given to the people of India.\n\n\"These two Indians,\" said he, \"have not the least desire to be committed\nto the flames. My grave brethren have adjudged them to be burnt; one for\nsaying, that the substance of Xaca is not that of Brahma; and the other\nfor supposing, that the approbation of the Supreme Being was to be\nobtained at the point of death without holding a cow by the tail;\n'Because,' said he, 'we may be virtuous at all times, and we cannot\nalways have a cow to lay hold of just when we may have occasion.' The\ngood women of the city were greatly terrified at two such heretical\nopinions; they would not allow the judges a moment's peace until they\nhad ordered the execution of those unfortunate men.\"\n\nPythagoras was convinced that from the herb up to man, there were many\ncauses of chagrin. However, he obliged the judges and even the devotees\nto listen to reason, which happened only at that time.\n\nHe went afterwards and preached toleration at Crotona; but a bigot set\nfire to his house, and he was burnt--the man who had delivered the two\nHindoos from the flames? Let those save themselves who can![4]\n\n\n[1] Perhaps it would be impossible at the present day to convince\nscientists that oysters formerly conversed intelligibly with mankind and\nprotested eloquently against human injustice; but all men are not\nscientists, and there are many worthy people who still have implicit\nfaith in ancient Semitic records--who firmly believe in miracles and\nprodigies--and who would consider it rank heresy to doubt that the\nserpent, though now as mute as an oyster, formerly held a very animated\nconversation, in the original Edenic language, with the inexperienced\nand confiding female who then graced with her charming presence the\nbowers of Paradise; and this sacred narrative of the \"maiden and the\nreptile\" is quite as repugnant to modern science as the sentimental fish\nstory of \"Pythagoras and the oyster\".\n\nAs a matter of fact, the doctrine of the metempsichosis, as taught by\nthe Samian sage, was formerly held in great repute by the most civilized\nnations of antiquity, and it is surely as easy to credit the assertion\nof our author, that the ancient Gymnosophists \"had learned the language\nof beasts and plants\" as to believe the unquestioned and orthodox\nstatement that a certain quadruped, (_Asinus vulgaris_,) --whose\nromantic history is recorded in the twenty-second chapter of\nNumbers,--was once upon a time able to converse in very good Hebrew with\nMonsieur Balaam, an ancient prophet of great merit and renown.--E.\n\n[2] The resemblance of oysters to mankind, here implied, can only be\napparent to the \"eye of faith,\" and lovers of these delicious bivalves\nwill fail to recognize the family likeness.--E.\n\n[3] Pythagoras was born at Samos, about 590 years before the Christian\nera. He received an education well calculated to enlighten his mind and\ninvigorate his body. He studied poetry, music, eloquence and astronomy,\nand became so proficient in gymnastic exercises, that in his eighteenth\nyear he won the prize for wrestling at the Olympic games. He then\nvisited Egypt and Chaldea, and gaining the confidence of the priests,\nlearned from them the artful policy by which they governed the people.\nOn his return to Samos he was saluted by the name of _Sophist_, or wise\nman, but he declined the name, and was satisfied with that of\nphilosopher, or the _friend of wisdom_. He ultimately fixed his\nresidence in Magna Gr\u00e6cia, in the town of Crotona, where he founded the\nschool called _the Italian_.\n\nThis school became very prosperous, and hundreds of pupils received the\n_secret instructions_ of Pythagoras, who taught by the use of ciphers or\nnumbers, and hieroglyphic writings. His pupils were thus enabled to\ncorrespond together in unknown characters; and, by the signs and words\nemployed, they could discover among strangers those who had been\neducated in the Pythagorean school. All the pupils of the philosopher\ngreatly reverenced their teacher, and deemed it a crime to dispute his\nword. One of their expressions \"_thus saith the Master_,\" has been\nadopted by modern sects.\n\nThe Samian sage taught the doctrine of the metempsichosis, or the\ntransmigration of the soul into different bodies, which he had probably\nlearned from the Brahmins; who believed that, in these various\nperegrinations, the soul or thinking principle was purged from all evil,\nand was ultimately absorbed into the Divine substance from which it was\nsupposed to have emanated.\n\nGodfrey Higgins in the _Anacalypsis_ cites authorities to prove that the\ndoctrine of the metempsichosis was held by \"many of the early fathers of\nthe Christians, which they defended on several texts of the New\nTestament. It was held by Origin, Calcidius, Synesius, and by the\nSimonians, Basilidians, Valentiniens, Marcionites, and the Gnostics in\ngeneral. It was also held by the Pharisees among the Jews, and by the\nmost learned of the Greeks, and by many Chinese, Hindoos and Indians.\n\n\"When all the circumstances relating to Pythagoras and to his doctrines,\nboth in moral and natural philosophy, are considered,\" continues\nHiggins, \"nothing can be more striking than the exact conformity of the\nlatter to the received opinions of the moderns, and of the former to the\nmoral doctrines of Jesus Christ.\"\n\n\"The pupils of Pythagoras,\" says Eschenburg, _Manual of Classical\nLiterature_, \"soon amounted to 600, dwelt in one public building, and\nheld their property in common. Under philosophy, the Italic school\nincluded every object of human knowledge. But Pythagoras considered\nmusic and astronomy of special value. He is supposed to have had some\nvery correct views of astronomy, agreeing with the true Copernican\nsystem. The beautiful fancy of the music of the spheres is attributed to\nhim. The planets striking on the ether, through which they pass, must\nproduce a sound; this must vary according to their different magnitudes,\nvelocities, and relative distances; these differences were all adjusted\nwith perfect regularity and exact proportions, so that the movements of\nthe bodies produced the richest tones of harmony; not heard, however, by\nmortal ears.\"\n\nPythagoras taught, and his followers maintained, the absolute equality\nof property, \"all their worldly possessions being brought into a common\nstore\". The early Christians had also \"all things in common,\" and the\ndoctrines of Jesus and Pythagoras have many points of resemblance. Both\nwere reformers, both sought to benefit the poor and the oppressed, both\ntaught and practised the doctrines now known as Communism, and both, for\ntheir love to the human race, suffered a cruel martyrdom from an\northodox and vindictive priesthood.\n\nIn obedience to an oracle, the Romans, long after the death of\nPythagoras, erected a statue to his memory as the wisest of mankind.--E.\n\n[4] Godfrey Higgins in the _Anacalypsis_ draws aside the veil of Isis,\nand explains in a satisfactory manner the reason why Pythagoras, like\nSocrates and Jesus, was condemned to death by the established\npriesthood. Each of these great reformers had been initiated into the\n_sacred mysteries_, and each taught his followers by secret symbols or\nparables that contained a hidden meaning; so \"that seeing the\n_uninitiated_ might see and not perceive, and hearing might hear and not\nunderstand.\" The reason that Jesus gave for following this method was\n\"because it is given unto you (_i.e._ the initiated) to know the\nmysteries of the kingdom of heaven, but to them (_i.e._ the people) it\nis not given.\" (Matt. XIII: II.) The mass of mankind, being excluded\nfrom this secret knowledge, were kept in a state of debasement as\ncompared with the favored few who were acquainted with the jealously\nguarded secrets of the Cabala; and the earnest desire of these great\nreformers--of these noble men who cheerfully gave their lives to benefit\ntheir race--was, without divulging the secrets of their initiation, to\nteach mankind to partake of the forbidden fruit of the tree of\nknowledge, and to learn \"that a virtuous life would secure eternal\nhappiness.\" Such philanthropic doctrines were denounced as wicked and\nheretical by the orthodox priesthood, who instinctively oppose human\nprogress, and who, like the silversmith of Ephesus, described by St.\nPaul, felt that \"this our craft is in danger\" should the people become\nenlightened. They therefore, excited a popular clamor, and aroused the\nworst passions and prejudices of their followers; who, inspired with\nfanatic zeal, cruelly and wickedly burned Pythagoras of Crotona,\npoisoned Socrates of Athens, and crucified Jesus of Nazareth.--E.\n\n\n\n[Illustration: The school at Issoire.]\n\n\n\nJEANNOT AND COLIN.\n\n\nMany persons, worthy of credit, have seen Jeannot and Colin at school in\nthe town of Issoire, in Auvergne, France,--a town famous all over the\nworld for its college and its caldrons.\n\nJeannot was the son of a dealer in mules of great reputation; and Colin\nowed his birth to a good substantial farmer in the neighborhood, who\ncultivated the land with four mules; and who, after he had paid all\ntaxes and duties at the rate of a sol per pound, was not very rich at\nthe year's end.\n\nJeannot and Colin were very handsome, considering they were natives of\nAuvergne; they dearly loved each other. They had many enjoyments in\ncommon, and certain little adventures of such a nature as men always\nrecollect with pleasure when they afterwards meet in the world.\n\nTheir studies were nearly finished, when a tailor brought Jeannot a\nvelvet suit of three colors, with a waistcoat from Lyons, which was\nextremely well fancied. With these came a letter addressed to Monsieur\nde la Jeannoti\u00e8re.\n\nColin admired the coat, and was not at all jealous; but Jeannot assumed\nan air of superiority, which gave Colin some uneasiness. From that\nmoment Jeannot abandoned his studies; he contemplated himself in a\nglass, and despised all mankind.\n\nSoon after, a valet-de-chambre arrived post-haste, and brought a second\nletter to the Marquis de la Jeannoti\u00e8re; it was an order from his\nfather, who desired the young marquis to repair immediately to Paris.\nJeannot got into his chaise, giving his hand to Colin with a smile,\nwhich denoted the superiority of a patron. Colin felt his littleness,\nand wept. Jeannot departed in all the pomp of his glory.\n\nSuch readers as take a pleasure in being instructed should be informed\nthat Monsieur Jeannot the father, had, with great rapidity, acquired an\nimmense fortune by business. You will ask how such great fortunes are\nmade? My answer is, by luck. Monsieur Jeannot had a good person, so had\nhis wife; and she had still some freshness remaining. They went to Paris\non account of a law-suit, which ruined them; when fortune, which raises\nand depresses men at her pleasure, presented them to the wife of an\nundertaker belonging to one of the hospitals for the army. This\nundertaker, a man of great talents, might make it his boast, that he had\nburied more soldiers in a year than cannons destroy in ten. Jeannot\npleased the wife; the wife of Jeannot interested the undertaker. Jeannot\nwas employed in the undertaker's business; this introduced him to other\nbusiness. When our boat runs with wind and stream, we have nothing to do\nbut let it sail on. We then make an immense fortune with ease. The poor\ncreatures who from the shore see you pursue your voyage with full sail,\nstare with astonishment; they cannot conceive to what you owe your\nsuccess; they envy you instinctively, and write pamphlets against you\nwhich you never read.\n\nThis is just what happened to Jeannot the father, who soon became\nMonsieur de la Jeannoti\u00e8re; and who having purchased a marquisate in six\nmonths time, took the young marquis, his son, from school, in order to\nintroduce him to the polite world at Paris.\n\nColin, whose heart was replete with tenderness, wrote a letter of\ncompliments to his old companion, and congratulated him on his good\nfortune. The little marquis did not reply. Colin was so much affected at\nthis neglect that he was taken ill.\n\nThe father and mother immediately consigned the young marquis to the\ncare of a governor. This governor, who was a man of fashion, and who\nknew nothing, was not able to teach his pupil anything.\n\nThe marquis would have had his son learn Latin; this his lady opposed.\nThey then referred the matter to the judgment of an author, who had at\nthat time acquired great reputation by his entertaining writings. This\nauthor was invited to dinner. The master of the house immediately\naddressed him thus:\n\n\"Sir, as you understand Latin, and are a man acquainted with the\ncourt,--\"\n\n\"I understand Latin! I don't know one word of it,\" answered the wit,\n\"and I think myself the better for being unacquainted with it. It is\nvery evident that a man speaks his own language in greater perfection\nwhen he does not divide his application between it and foreign\nlanguages. Only consider our ladies; they have a much more agreeable\nturn of wit than the men, their letters are written with a hundred times\nthe grace of ours. This superiority they owe to nothing else but their\nnot understanding Latin.\"\n\n\"Well, was I not in the right?\" said the lady. \"I would have my son\nprove a notable man, I would have him succeed in the world; and you see\nthat if he was to understand Latin he would be ruined. Pray, are plays\nand operas performed in Latin? Do lawyers plead in Latin? Do men court a\nmistress in Latin?\"\n\nThe marquis, dazzled by these reasons, gave up the point, and it was\nresolved, that the young marquis should not misspend his time in\nendeavoring to become acquainted with Cicero, Horace and Virgil.\n\n\"Then,\" said the father, \"what shall he learn? For he must know\nsomething. Might not one teach him a little geography?\"\n\n\"Of what use will that be?\" answered the governor. \"When the marquis\ngoes to his estate, won't the postillion know the roads? They certainly\nwill not carry him out of his way. There is no occasion for a quadrant\nto travel thither; and one can go very commodiously from Paris to\nAuvergne without knowing what latitude one is in.\"\n\n\"You are in the right,\" replied the father; \"but I have heard of a\nscience, called astronomy, if I am not mistaken.\"\n\n\"Bless me!\" said the governor, \"do people regulate their conduct by the\ninfluence of the stars in this world? And must the young gentleman\nperplex himself with the calculation of an eclipse, when he finds it\nready calculated to his hand in an almanac, which, at the same time,\nshows him the movable feasts, the age of the moon, and also that of all\nthe princesses in Europe?\"\n\nThe lady agreed perfectly with the governor; the little marquis was\ntransported with joy; the father remained undetermined. \"What then is my\nson to learn?\" said he.\n\n\"To become amiable,\" answered the friend who was consulted, \"and if he\nknows how to please, he will know all that need be known. This art he\nwill learn in the company of his mother, without either he or she being\nat any trouble.\"\n\nThe lady, upon hearing this, embraced the ignorant flatterer, and said:\n\"It is easy to see, sir, that you are the wisest man in the world. My\nson will be entirely indebted to you for his education. I think,\nhowever, it would not be amiss if he was to know something of history.\"\n\n\"Alas, madam, what is that good for,\" answered he; \"there certainly is\nno useful or entertaining history but the history of the day; all\nancient histories, as one of our wits has observed, are only fables that\nmen have agreed to admit as true. With regard to modern history, it is a\nmere chaos, a confusion which it is impossible to make anything of. Of\nwhat consequence is it to the young marquis, your son, to know that\nCharlemagne instituted the twelve peers of France, and that his\nsuccessor stammered?\"\n\n\"Admirably said,\" cried the governor; \"the genius of young persons is\nsmothered under a heap of useless knowledge; but of all sciences, the\nmost absurd, and that which, in my opinion, is most calculated to stifle\ngenius of every kind, is geometry. The objects about which this\nridiculous science is conversant, are surfaces, lines, and points, that\nhave no existence in nature. By the force of imagination, the\ngeometrician makes a hundred thousand curved lines pass between a circle\nand a right line that touches it, when, in reality, there is not room\nfor a straw to pass there. Geometry, if we consider it in its true\nlight, is a mere jest, and nothing more.\"\n\nThe marquis and his lady did not well understand the governor's meaning,\nyet they were entirely of his opinion.\n\n\"A man of quality, like the young marquis,\" continued he, \"should not\nrack his brains with useless sciences. If he should ever have occasion\nfor a plan of the lands of his estate, he may have them correctly\nsurveyed without studying geometry. If he has a mind to trace the\nantiquity of his noble family, which leads the inquirer back to the most\nremote ages, he will send for a Benedictine. It will be the same thing\nwith regard to all other wants. A young man of quality, endowed with a\nhappy genius, is neither a painter, a musician, an architect, nor a\ngraver; but he makes all these arts flourish by generously encouraging\nthem. It is, doubtless, better to patronize than to practice them. It is\nenough for the young marquis to have a taste; it is the business of\nartists to exert themselves for him; and it is in this sense that it is\nsaid very justly of people of quality, (I mean those who are very rich),\nthat they know all things without having learnt anything; for they, in\nfact, come at last to know how to judge concerning whatever they order\nor pay for.\"\n\nThe ignorant man of fashion then spoke to this purpose:\n\n\"You have very justly observed, madam, that the grand end which a man\nshould have in view is to succeed in the world. Can it possibly be said\nthat this success is to be obtained by cultivating the sciences? Did\nanybody ever so much as think of talking of geometry in good company?\nDoes anyone ever inquire of a man of the world, what star rises with the\nsun? Who enquires at supper, whether the long-haired Clodio passed the\nRhine?\"\n\n\"No, doubtless,\" cried the marchioness, whom her charms had in some\nmeasure initiated into the customs of the polite world; \"and my son\nshould not extinguish his genius by the study of all this stuff. But\nwhat is he, after all, to learn? for it is proper that a young person of\nquality should know how to shine upon an occasion, as my husband\nobserves. I remember to have heard an abb\u00e9 say, that the most delightful\nof all the sciences, is something that begins with a _B_.\"\n\n\"With a B, madam? Is it not botany you mean?\"\n\n\"No, it was not botany he spoke of; the name of the science he mentioned\nbegan with _B_, and ended with _on_.\"\n\n\"Oh, I comprehend you, madam,\" said the man of fashion; \"it is _Blason_\nyou mean. It is indeed a profound science; but it is no longer in\nfashion, since the people of quality have ceased to cause their arms to\nbe painted upon the doors of their coaches. It was once the most useful\nthing in the world, in a well regulated state. Besides, this study would\nbe endless. Now-a-days there is hardly a barber that has not his coat of\narms; and you know that whatever becomes common is but little esteemed.\"\n\nIn fine, after they had examined the excellencies and defects of all the\nsciences, it was determined that the young marquis should learn to\ndance.\n\nNature, which does all, had given him a talent that quickly displayed\nitself surprisingly; it was that of singing ballads agreeably. The\ngraces of youth, joined to this superior gift, caused him to be looked\nupon as a young man of the brightest hopes. He was admired by the women;\nand having his head full of songs, he composed some for his mistress. He\nstole from the song \"_Bacchus and Love_\" in one ballad; from that of\n\"_Night and Day_\" in another; from that of \"_Charms and Alarms_\" in a\nthird. But as there were always in his verses some superfluous feet, or\nnot enough, he had them corrected for twenty louis-d'ors a song; and in\nthe annals of literature he was put upon a level with the La Fares,\nChaulieus, Hamiltons, Sarrazins, and Voitures.\n\nThe marchioness then looked upon herself as the mother of a wit, and\ngave a supper to the wits of Paris. The young man's brain was soon\nturned; he acquired the art of speaking without knowing his own meaning,\nand he became perfect in the habit of being good for nothing. When his\nfather found he was so eloquent, he very much regretted that his son had\nnot learned Latin; for he would have bought him a lucrative place among\nthe gentry of the long robe. The mother, who had more elevated\nsentiments, undertook to procure a regiment for her son; and in the\nmeantime, courtship was his occupation. Love is sometimes more expensive\nthan a regiment. He was very improvident, whilst his parents exhausted\ntheir finances still more, by expensive living.\n\nA young widow of fashion, their neighbor, who had but a moderate\nfortune, had an inclination to secure the great wealth of Monsieur and\nMadame de la Jeannoti\u00e8re, and appropriating it to herself, by a marriage\nwith the young marquis. She allured him to visit her; she admitted his\naddresses; she showed that she was not indifferent to him; she led him\non by degrees; she enchanted and captivated him without much difficulty.\nSometimes she lavished praises upon him, sometimes she gave him advice.\nShe became the most intimate friend of both the father and mother.\n\nAn elderly lady, who was their neighbor, proposed the match. The\nparents, dazzled by the glory of such an alliance, accepted the proposal\nwith joy. They gave their only son to their intimate friend.\n\nThe young marquis was now on the point of marrying a woman whom he\nadored, and by whom he was beloved; the friends of the family\ncongratulated them; the marriage articles were just going to be drawn\nup, whilst wedding clothes were being made for the young couple, and\ntheir epithalamium composed.\n\nThe young marquis was one day upon his knees before his charming\nmistress, whom love, esteem, and friendship were going to make all his\nown. In a tender and spirited conversation, they enjoyed a foretaste of\ntheir coming happiness, they concerted measures to lead a happy life.\nWhen all on a sudden a valet-de-chambre belonging to the old\nmarchioness, arrived in a great fright.\n\n\"Here is sad news,\" said he, \"officers have removed the effects of my\nmaster and mistress; the creditors have seized upon all by virtue of an\nexecution; and I am obliged to make the best shift I can to have my\nwages paid.\"\n\n\"Let's see,\" said the marquis, \"what is this? What can this adventure\nmean?\"\n\n\"Go,\" said the widow, \"go quickly, and punish those villains.\"\n\nHe runs, he arrives at the house; his father is already in prison; all\nthe servants have fled in different ways, each carrying off whatever he\ncould lay his hands upon. His mother is alone, without assistance,\nwithout comfort, drowned in tears. She has nothing left but the\nremembrance of her fortune, of her beauty, her faults, and her\nextravagant living.\n\nAfter the son had wept a long time with his mother, he at length said to\nher:\n\n\"Let us not give ourselves up to despair. This young widow loves me to\nexcess; she is more generous than rich, I can answer for her; I will go\nand bring her to you.\"\n\nHe returns to his mistress, and finds her in company with a very amiable\nyoung officer.\n\n\"What, is it you, M. de la Jeannoti\u00e8re,\" said she; \"what brings you\nhere? Is it proper to forsake your unhappy mother in such a crisis? Go\nto that poor, unfortunate woman, and tell her that I still wish her\nwell. I have occasion for a chamber-maid, and will give her the\npreference.\"\n\n\"My lad,\" said the officer, \"you are well shaped. Enlist in my company;\nyou may depend on good usage.\"\n\nThe marquis, thunderstruck, and with a heart enraged, went in quest of\nhis old governor, made him acquainted with his misfortune, and asked his\nadvice. The governor proposed that he should become a tutor, like\nhimself.\n\n\"Alas!\" said the marquis, \"I know nothing; you have taught me nothing,\nand you are the first cause of my misfortunes.\" He sobbed when he spoke\nthus.\n\n\"Write romances,\" said a wit who was present; \"it is an admirable\nresource at Paris.\"\n\nThe young man, in greater despair than ever, ran to his mother's\nconfessor. This confessor was a Theatin of great reputation, who\ndirected the consciences only of women of the first rank. As soon as he\nsaw Jeannot, he ran up to him:\n\n\"My God, Mr. Marquis,\" said he, \"where is your coach? How is the good\nlady your mother?\"\n\nThe poor unfortunate young man gave him an account of what had befallen\nhis family. In proportion as he explained himself the Theatin assumed an\nair more grave, more indifferent, and more defiant.\n\n\"My son,\" said he, \"it is the will of God that you should be reduced to\nthis condition; riches serve only to corrupt the heart. God, in his\ngreat mercy, has then reduced your mother to beggary?\"\n\n[Illustration: Jeannot and Colin.]\n\n\"Yes, sir,\" answered the marquis.\n\n\"So much the better,\" said the confessor, \"her election is the more\ncertain.\"\n\n\"But father,\" said the marquis, \"is there in the mean time no hopes of\nsome assistance in this world?\"\n\n\"Farewell, my son,\" said the confessor; \"a court lady is waiting for\nme.\"\n\nThe marquis was almost ready to faint. He met with much the same\ntreatment from all; and acquired more knowledge of the world in half a\nday than he had previously learned in all the rest of his life.\n\nBeing quite overwhelmed with despair, he saw an old-fashioned chaise\nadvance, which resembled an open wagon with leather curtains; it was\nfollowed by four enormous carts which were loaded. In the chaise there\nwas a young man, dressed in the rustic manner, whose fresh countenance\nwas replete with sweetness and gaiety. His wife, a little woman of a\nbrown complexion and an agreeable figure, though somewhat stout, sat\nclose by him. As the carriage did not move on like the chaise of a\npetit-ma\u00eetre, the traveler had sufficient time to contemplate the\nmarquis, who was motionless and immersed in sorrow.\n\n\"Good God,\" cried he, \"I think that is Jeannot.\" Upon hearing this name,\nthe marquis lifts up his eyes, the carriage stops, and Colin cries out,\n\"'Tis Jeannot, 'tis Jeannot himself.\"\n\nThe little fat bumpkin gave but one spring from the chaise and ran to\nembrace his old companion. Jeannot recollected his friend Colin, while\nhis eyes were blinded with tears of shame.\n\n\"You have abandoned me,\" said Colin; \"but, though you are a great man, I\nwill love you forever.\"\n\nJeannot, confused and affected, related to him with emotion a great part\nof his history.\n\n\"Come to the inn where I lodge, and tell me the rest of it,\" said Colin;\n\"embrace my wife here, and let us go and dine together.\" They then went\non foot, followed by their baggage.\n\n\"What is all this train,\" said Jeannot; \"is it yours?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" answered Colin, \"it all belongs to me and to my wife. We have\njust come in from the country. I am now at the head of a large\nmanufactory of tin and copper. I have married the daughter of a merchant\nwell provided with all things necessary for the great as well as the\nlittle. We work a great deal; God blesses us; we have not changed our\ncondition; we are happy; we will assist our friend Jeannot. Be no longer\na marquis; all the grandeur in the world is not to be compared to a good\nfriend. You shall return with me to the country. I will teach you the\ntrade; it is not very difficult; I will make you my partner, and we will\nlive merrily in the remote corner where we were born.\"\n\nJeannot, quite transported, felt emotions of grief and joy, tenderness\nand shame; and he said within himself: \"My fashionable friends have\nbetrayed me, and Colin, whom I despised, is the only one who comes to\nrelieve me.\" What instruction does not this narrative afford!\n\nColin's goodness of heart caused the seeds of a virtuous disposition,\nwhich the world had not quite stifled in Jeannot, to revive. He was\nsensible that he could not forsake his father and mother.\n\n\"We will take care of your mother,\" said Colin; \"and as to the good man\nyour father, who is now in jail, his creditors, seeing he has nothing,\nwill compromise matters for a trifle. I know something of business, and\nwill take the whole affair upon myself.\"\n\nColin found means to procure the father's enlargement. Jeannot returned\nto the country with his relatives, who resumed their former way of life.\nHe married a sister of Colin, and she, being of the same temper with her\nbrother, made him completely happy.\n\nJeannot the father, Jeannote the mother, and Jeannot the son, were thus\nconvinced that happiness is not the result of vanity.\n\n[Illustration: Religious emblems.]\n\n\n\n\nTHE HISTORY OF THE TRAVELS OF SCARMENTADO.[1]\n\n\nI was born in Candia, in the year 1600. My father was governor of the\ncity; and I remember that a poet of middling parts, and of a most\nunmusical ear, whose name was Iro, composed some verses in my praise, in\nwhich he made me to descend from Minos in a direct line; but my father\nbeing afterwards disgraced, he wrote some other verses, in which he\nderived my pedigree from no nobler an origin than the amours of Pasiph\u00e6\nand her gallant. This Iro was a most mischievous rogue, and one of the\nmost troublesome fellows in the island.\n\nMy father sent me at fifteen years of age to prosecute my studies at\nRome. There I arrived in full hopes of learning all kinds of truth; for\nI had hitherto been taught quite the reverse, according to the custom of\nthis lower world from China to the Alps. Monsignor Profondo, to whom I\nwas recommended, was a man of a very singular character, and one of the\nmost terrible scholars in the world. He was for teaching me the\ncategories of Aristotle; and was just on the point of placing me in the\ncategory of his minions; a fate which I narrowly escaped. I saw\nprocessions, exorcisms, and some robberies.\n\nIt was commonly said, but without any foundation, that la Signora\nOlympia, a lady of great prudence, had deceived many lovers, she being\nboth inconstant and mercenary. I was then of an age to relish such\ncomical anecdotes.\n\nA young lady of great sweetness of temper, called la Signora Fatelo,\nthought proper to fall in love with me. She was courted by the reverend\nfather Poignardini, and by the reverend father Aconiti,[2] young monks\nof an order now extinct; and she reconciled the two rivals by declaring\nher preference for me; but at the same time I ran the risk of being\nexcommunicated and poisoned. I left Rome highly pleased with the\narchitecture of St. Peter.\n\nI traveled to France. It was during the reign of Louis the Just. The\nfirst question put to me was, whether I chose to breakfast on a slice of\nthe Marshal D'Ancre,[3] whose flesh the people had roasted and\ndistributed with great liberality to such as chose to taste it.\n\nThis kingdom was continually involved in civil wars, sometimes for a\nplace at court, sometimes for two pages of theological controversy. This\nfire, which one while lay concealed under the ashes, and at another\nburst forth with great violence, had desolated these beautiful provinces\nfor upwards of sixty years. The pretext was, defending the liberties of\nthe Gallican church. \"Alas!\" said I, \"these people are nevertheless born\nwith a gentle disposition. What can have drawn them so far from their\nnatural character? They joke and keep holy days.[4] Happy the time when\nthey shall do nothing but joke!\"\n\nI went over to England, where the same disputes occasioned the same\nbarbarities. Some pious Catholics had resolved, for the good of the\nchurch, to blow up into the air with gunpowder the king, the royal\nfamily, and the whole parliament, and thus to deliver England from all\nthese heretics at once. They showed me the place where Queen Mary of\nblessed memory, the daughter of Henry VIII., had caused more than five\nhundred, of her subjects to be burnt. An Irish priest assured me that it\nwas a very good action; first, because those who were burnt were\nEnglishmen; and secondly, because they did not make use of holy water,\nnor believe in St. Patrick. He was greatly surprised that Queen Mary was\nnot yet canonized; but he hoped she would receive that honor as soon as\nthe cardinal should be a little more at leisure.\n\nFrom thence I went to Holland, where I hoped to find more tranquillity\namong a people of a more cold and phlegmatic temperament. Just as I\narrived at the Hague, the people were cutting off the head of a\nvenerable old man. It was the bald head of the prime minister Barnevelt;\na man who deserved better treatment from the republic. Touched with pity\nat this affecting scene, I asked what was his crime, and whether he had\nbetrayed the state.\n\n\"He has done much worse,\" replied a preacher in a black cloak; \"he\nbelieved that men may be saved by good works as well as by faith. You\nmust be sensible,\" adds he, \"that if such opinions were to gain ground,\na republic could not subsist; and that there must be severe laws to\nsuppress such scandalous and horrid blasphemies.\"\n\nA profound politician said to me with a sigh: \"Alas! sir, this happy\ntime will not last long; it is only by chance that the people are so\nzealous. They are naturally inclined to the abominable doctrine of\ntoleration, and they will certainly at last grant it.\" This reflection\nset him a groaning. For my own part, in expectation of that fatal period\nwhen moderation and indulgence should take place, I instantly quitted a\ncountry where severity was not softened by any lenitive, and embarked\nfor Spain.\n\nThe court was then at Seville, the galleons had just arrived; and\neverything breathed plenty and gladness, in the most beautiful season of\nthe year. I observed at the end of an alley of orange and citron trees,\na kind of large ring, surrounded with steps covered with rich and costly\ncloth. The king, the queen, the infants, and the infantas, were seated\nunder a superb canopy. Opposite to the royal family was another throne,\nraised higher than that on which his majesty sat. I said to a\nfellow-traveler: \"Unless this throne be reserved for God, I don't see\nwhat purpose it can serve.\"\n\nThis unguarded expression was overheard by a grave Spaniard, and cost me\ndear. Meanwhile, I imagined we were going to a carousal, or a match of\nbull-baiting, when the grand inquisitor appeared in that elevated\nthrone, from whence he blessed the king and the people.\n\nThen came an army of monks, who led off in pairs, white, black, grey,\nshod, unshod, bearded, beardless, with pointed cowls, and without cowls.\nNext followed the hangman; and last of all were seen, in the midst of\nthe guards and grandees, about forty persons clad in sackcloth, on which\nwere painted the figures of flames and devils. Some of these were Jews,\nwho could not be prevailed upon to renounce Moses entirely; others were\nChristians, who had married women with whom they had stood sponsors to a\nchild; who had not adored our Lady of Atocha; or who had refused to part\nwith their ready money in favor of the Hieronymite brothers. Some pretty\nprayers were sung with much devotion, and then the criminals were burnt\nat a slow fire; a ceremony with which the royal family seemed to be\ngreatly edified.\n\nAs I was going to bed in the evening, two members of the inquisition\ncame to my lodging with a figure of St. Hermandad. They embraced me with\ngreat tenderness, and conducted me in solemn silence to a well-aired\nprison, furnished with a bed of mat, and a beautiful crucifix. There I\nremained for six weeks; at the end of which time the reverend father,\nthe Inquisitor, sent for me. He pressed me in his arms for some time\nwith the most paternal affection, and told me that he was sorry to hear\nthat I had been so ill lodged; but that all the apartments of the house\nwere full, and hoped I should be better accommodated the next time. He\nthen asked me with great cordiality if I knew for what reason I was\nimprisoned.\n\nI told the reverend father that it was evidently for my sins.\n\n\"Very well,\" said he, \"my dear child; but for what particular sin? Speak\nfreely.\"\n\nI racked my brain with conjectures, but could not possibly guess. He\nthen charitably dismissed me. At last I remembered my unguarded\nexpression. I escaped with a little bodily correction, and a fine of\nthirty thousand reals. I was led to make my obeisance to the grand\nInquisitor, who was a man of great politeness. He asked me how I liked\nhis little feast. I told him it was a most delicious one; and then went\nto press my companions to quit the country, beautiful as it was.\n\nThey had, during my imprisonment, found time to inform themselves of all\nthe great things which the Spaniards had done for the interest of\nreligion. They had read the memoirs of the famous bishop of Chiapa, by\nwhich it appears that they had massacred, or burnt, or drowned, about\nten millions of infidels in America, in order to convert them. I believe\nthe accounts of the bishop are a little exaggerated; but suppose we\nreduce the number of victims to five millions, it will still be a most\nglorious achievement.\n\nThe impulse for traveling still possessed me. I had proposed to finish\nthe tour of Europe with Turkey, and thither we now directed our course.\nI made a firm resolution not to give my opinion of any public feasts I\nmight see in the future. \"These Turks,\" said I to my companions, \"are a\nset of miscreants that have not been baptized, and therefore will be\nmore cruel than the reverend fathers the inquisitors. Let us observe a\nprofound silence while we are among the Mahometans.\" When we arrived\nthere, I was greatly surprised to see more Christian churches in Turkey\nthan in Candia. I saw also numerous troops of monks, who were allowed to\npray to the virgin Mary with great freedom, and to curse Mahomet--some\nin Greek, some in Latin, and others in Armenian. \"What good-natured\npeople are these Turks,\" cried I.\n\nThe Greek christians, and the Latin christians in Constantinople were\nmortal enemies. These sectarians persecuted each other in much the same\nmanner as dogs fight in the streets, till their masters part them with a\ncudgel.\n\nThe grand vizier was at that time the protector of the Greeks. The Greek\npatriarch accused me of having supped with the Latin patriarch; and I\nwas condemned in full divan to receive an hundred blows on the soles of\nmy feet, redeemable for five hundred sequins. Next day the grand vizier\nwas strangled. The day following his successor, who was for the Latin\nparty, and who was not strangled till a month after, condemned me to\nsuffer the same punishment, for having supped with the Greek patriarch.\nThus was I reduced to the sad necessity of absenting myself entirely\nfrom the Greek and Latin churches.\n\nIn order to console myself for this loss, I frequently visited a very\nhandsome Circassian. She was the most entertaining lady I ever knew in a\nprivate conversation, and the most devout at the mosque. One evening she\nreceived me with tenderness and sweetly cried, \"Alla, Illa, Alla.\"\n\nThese are the sacramental words of the Turks. I imagined they were the\nexpressions of love, and therefore cried in my turn, and with a very\ntender accent, \"Alla, Illa, Alla.\"\n\n\"Ah!\" said she, \"God be praised, thou art then a Turk?\"\n\nI told her that I was blessing God for having given me so much\nenjoyment, and that I thought myself extremely happy.\n\nIn the morning the inman came to enroll me among the circumcised, and as\nI made some objection to the initiation, the cadi of that district, a\nman of great loyalty, proposed to have me impaled. I preserved my\nfreedom by paying a thousand sequins, and then fled directly into\nPersia, resolved for the future never to hear Greek or Latin mass, nor\nto cry \"Alla, Illa, Alla,\" in a love encounter.\n\nOn my arrival at Ispahan, the people asked me whether I was for white or\nblack mutton? I told them that it was a matter of indifference to me,\nprovided it was tender. It must be observed that the Persian empire was\nat that time split into two factions, that of the white mutton and that\nof the black. The two parties imagined that I had made a jest of them\nboth; so that I found myself engaged in a very troublesome affair at the\ngates of the city, and it cost me a great number of sequins to get rid\nof the white and the black mutton.\n\nI proceeded as far as China, in company with an interpreter, who assured\nme that this country was the seat of gaiety and freedom. The Tartars had\nmade themselves masters of it, after having destroyed everything with\nfire and sword.\n\nThe reverend fathers, the Jesuits, on the one hand, and the reverend\nfathers, the Dominicans, on the other, alleged that they had gained many\nsouls to God in that country, without any one knowing aught of the\nmatter. Never were seen such zealous converters. They alternately\npersecuted one another; they transmitted to Rome whole volumes of\nslander; and treated each other as infidels and prevaricators for the\nsake of one soul. But the most violent dispute between them was with\nregard to the manner of making a bow. The Jesuits would have the\nChinese to salute their parents after the fashion of China, and the\nDominicans would have them to do it after the fashion of Rome.\n\nI happened unluckily to be taken by the Jesuits for a Dominican. They\nrepresented me to his Tartarian majesty as a spy of the pope. The\nsupreme council charged a prime mandarin, who ordered a sergeant, who\ncommanded four shires of the country, to seize me and bind me with great\nceremony. In this manner I was conducted before his majesty, after\nhaving made about an hundred and forty genuflections. He asked me if I\nwas a spy of the pope's, and if it was true that that prince was to come\nin person to dethrone him. I told him that the pope was a priest of\nseventy years of age; that he lived at the distance of four thousand\nleagues from his sacred Tartaro-Chinese majesty; that he had about two\nthousand soldiers, who mounted guard with umbrellas; that he never\ndethroned anybody; and that his majesty might sleep in perfect security.\n\nOf all the adventures of my life this was the least fatal. I was sent to\nMacao, and there I took shipping for Europe.\n\nMy ship required to be refitted on the coast of Golconda. I embraced\nthis opportunity to visit the court of the great Aureng-Zeb, of whom\nsuch wonderful things have been told, and which was then in Delphi. I\nhad the pleasure to see him on the day of that pompous ceremony in which\nhe receives the celestial present sent him by the Sherif of Mecca. This\nwas the besom with which they had swept the holy house, the Caaba, and\nthe Beth Alla. It is a symbol that sweeps away all the pollutions of the\nsoul.\n\nAureng-Zeb seemed to have no need of it. He was the most pious man in\nall Indostan. It is true, he had cut the throat of one of his brothers,\nand poisoned his father. Twenty Rayas, and as many Omras, had been put\nto death; but that was a trifle. Nothing was talked of but his devotion.\nNo king was thought comparable to him, except his sacred majesty Muley\nIsmael, the most serene emperor of Morocco, who always cut off some\nheads every Friday after prayers.\n\nI spoke not a word. My travels had taught me wisdom. I was sensible that\nit did not belong to me to decide between these august sovereigns. A\nyoung Frenchman, a fellow-lodger of mine, was, however, greatly wanting\nin respect to both the emperor of the Indies and to that of Morocco. He\nhappened to say very imprudently, that there were sovereigns in Europe\nwho governed their dominions with great equity, and even went to church\nwithout killing their fathers or brothers, or cutting off the heads of\ntheir subjects.\n\nThis indiscreet discourse of my young friend, the interpreter at once\ntranslated. Instructed by former experience, I instantly caused my\ncamels to be saddled, and set out with my Frenchman. I was afterwards\ninformed that the officers of the great Aureng-Zeb came that very night\nto seize me, but finding only the interpreter, they publicly executed\nhim; and the courtiers all claimed, very justly, that his punishment was\nwell deserved.\n\nI had now only Africa to visit in order to enjoy all the pleasures of\nour continent; and thither I went to complete my voyage. The ship in\nwhich I embarked was taken by the Negro corsairs. The master of the\nvessel complained loudly, and asked why they thus violated the laws of\nnations. The captain of the Negroes thus replied:\n\n\"You have a long nose and we have a short one. Your hair is straight and\nours is curled; your skin is ash-colored and ours is of the color of\nebon; and therefore we ought, by the sacred laws of nature, to be always\nat enmity. You buy us in the public markets on the coast of Guinea like\nbeasts of burden, to make us labor in I don't know what kind of\ndrudgery, equally hard and ridiculous. With the whip held over our\nheads, you make us dig in mines for a kind of yellow earth, which in\nitself is good for nothing, and is not so valuable as an Egyptian onion.\nIn like manner wherever we meet you, and are superior to you in\nstrength, we make you slaves, and oblige you to cultivate our fields, or\nin case of refusal we cut off your nose and ears.\"\n\nTo such a learned discourse it was impossible to make any answer. I\nsubmitted to labor in the garden of an old negress, in order to save my\nnose and ears. After continuing in slavery for a whole year, I was at\nlength happily ransomed.\n\nAs I had now seen all that was rare, good, or beautiful on earth, I\nresolved for the future to see nothing but my own home. I took a wife,\nand soon suspected that she deceived me; but, notwithstanding this\ndoubt, I still found that of all conditions of life this was much the\nhappiest.\n\n\n[1] The reader will perceive that this is a spirited satire on mankind\nin general, and particularly on persecution for conscience\nsake.--_Trans._\n\n[2] Alluding to the infamous practice of poisoning and assassination at\nthat time prevalent in Rome.--_Trans._\n\n[3] This was the famous Concini, who was murdered on the draw-bridge of\nthe Louvre, by the intrigues of De Luines, not without the knowledge of\nthe king, Louis XIII. His body, which had been secretly interred in the\nchurch of St. Germain de l'Auxerrois, was next day dug up by the\npopulace, who dragged it through the streets, then burned the flesh, and\nthrew the bones into the river. The marshal's greatest crime was his\nbeing a foreigner.--_Tr._\n\n[4] Referring to the massacre of Protestants, on the eve of St.\nBartholomew.--_Tr._\n\n\n[Illustration: Brahma, _the Creator_.--Vishnu, _the Preserver_. --Siva,\n_the Destroyer_.]\n\n\n\n\nTHE GOOD BRAMIN.\n\nDOES HAPPINESS RESULT FROM IGNORANCE OR FROM KNOWLEDGE?\n\n\nIn my travels I once happened to meet with an aged Bramin. This man had\na great share of understanding and prudence, and was very learned. He\nwas also very rich, and his riches added greatly to his popularity; for,\nwanting nothing that wealth could procure, he had no desire to defraud\nany one. His family was admirably managed by three handsome wives, who\nalways studied to please him; and when he was weary of their society, he\nhad recourse to the study of philosophy.\n\nNot far from his house, which was handsome, well-furnished and\nembellished with delightful gardens, dwelt an old Indian woman who was a\ngreat bigot, ignorant, and withall very poor.\n\n\"I wish,\" said the Bramin to me one day, \"I had never been born!\"\n\n\"Why so?\" said I.\n\n\"Because,\" replied he, \"I have been studying these forty years, and I\nfind it has been so much time lost. While I teach others I know nothing\nmyself. The sense of my condition is so humiliating, it makes all things\nso distasteful to me, that life has become a burden. I have been born,\nand I exist in time, without knowing what time is. I am placed, as our\nwise men say, in the confines between two eternities, and yet I have no\nidea of eternity. I am composed of matter, I think, but have never been\nable to satisfy myself what it is that produces thought. I even am\nignorant whether my understanding is a simple faculty I possess, like\nthat of walking and digesting, or if I think with my head in the same\nmanner as I take hold of a thing with my hands. I am not only thus in\nthe dark with relation to the principles of thought, but the principles\nof my motions are entirely unknown to me. I do not know why I exist, and\nyet I am applied to every day for a solution of the enigma. I must\nreturn an answer, but can say nothing satisfactory on the the subject. I\ntalk a great deal, and when I have done speaking remain confounded and\nashamed of what I have said.\"\n\n\"I am in still greater perplexity when I am asked if Brama was produced\nby Vishnu, or if they have both existed from eternity. God is my judge\nthat I know nothing of the matter, as plainly appears by my answers.\n'Reverend father,' says one, 'be pleased to inform me how evil is spread\nover the face of the earth.' I am as much at a loss as those who ask the\nquestion. Sometimes I tell them that every thing is for the best; but\nthose who have the gout or the stone--those who have lost their fortunes\nor their limbs in the wars--believe as little of this assertion as I do\nmyself. I retire to my own house full of curiosity, and endeavor to\nenlighten my ignorance by consulting the writings of our ancient sages,\nbut they only serve to bewilder me the more. When I talk with my\nbrethren upon this subject, some tell me we ought to make the most of\nlife and laugh at the world. Others think they know something, and lose\nthemselves in vain and chimerical hypotheses. Every effort I make to\nsolve the mystery adds to the load I feel. Sometimes I am ready to fall\ninto despair when I reflect that, after all my researches, I neither\nknow from whence I came, what I am, whither I shall go, or what is to\nbecome of me.\"\n\nThe condition in which I saw this good man gave me real concern. No one\ncould be more rational, no one more open and honest. It appeared to me\nthat the force of his understanding and the sensibility of his heart\nwere the causes of his misery.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe same day I had a conversation with the old woman, his neighbor. I\nasked her if she had ever been unhappy for not understanding how her\nsoul was made? She did not even comprehend my question. She had not, for\nthe briefest moment in her life, had a thought about these subjects with\nwhich the good Bramin had so tormented himself. She believed from the\nbottom of her heart in the metamorphoses of her god Vishnu, and,\nprovided she could get some of the sacred water of the Ganges in which\nto make her ablutions, she thought herself the happiest of women.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nStruck with the happiness of this poor creature, I returned to my\nphilosopher, whom I thus addressed:\n\n\"Are you not ashamed to be thus miserable when, not fifty yards from\nyou, there is an old automaton who thinks of nothing and lives\ncontented?\"\n\n\"You are right,\" he replied. \"I have said to myself a thousand times\nthat I should be happy if I were but as ignorant as my old neighbor, and\nyet it is a happiness I do not desire.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThis reply of the Bramin made a greater impression on me than any thing\nthat had passed. I consulted my own heart and found that I myself should\nnot wish to be happy on condition of being ignorant.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nI submitted this matter to some philosophers, and they were all of my\nopinion: and yet, said I, there is something very contradictory in this\nmanner of thinking; for, after all, what is the question? Is it not to\nbe happy? What signifies it then whether we have understandings or\nwhether we are fools? Besides, there is this to be said: those who are\ncontented with their condition are sure of that content; while those\nwho have the faculty of reasoning are not always sure of reasoning\nright. It is evident then, I continued, that we ought rather to wish not\nto have common sense, if that common sense contributes to our being\neither miserable or wicked.\n\nThey were all of my opinion, and yet not one of them could be found, to\naccept of happiness on the terms of being ignorant. From hence I\nconcluded, that although we may set a great value upon happiness, we set\na still greater upon reason.\n\nBut after mature reflection upon this subject I still thought there was\ngreat madness in preferring reason to happiness. How is this\ncontradiction to be explained? Like all other questions, a great deal\nmay be said about it.\n\n[Illustration: The happy bigot.]\n\n[Illustration: The comfortors.]\n\n\n\n\nTHE TWO COMFORTERS.\n\n\nThe great philosopher Citosile once said to a woman who was\ndisconsolate, and who had good reason to be so: \"Madame, the queen of\nEngland, daughter to Henry IV., was as wretched as you. She was banished\nfrom her kingdom, was in great danger of losing her life at sea, and saw\nher royal spouse expire on a scaffold.\"\n\n\"I am sorry for her,\" said the lady, and began again to lament her own\nmisfortunes.\n\n\"But,\" said Citosile, \"remember the fate of Mary Stuart. She loved, (but\nwith a most chaste and virtuous affection,) an excellent musician, who\nplayed admirably on the bass-viol. Her husband killed her musician\nbefore her face; and in the sequel, her good friend and relative, queen\nElizabeth, who called herself a virgin, caused her head to be cut off on\na scaffold covered with black, after having confined her in prison for\nthe space of eighteen years.\"\n\n\"That was very cruel,\" replied the lady, and presently relapsed into her\nformer melancholy.\n\n\"Perhaps,\" said the comforter, \"you have heard of the beautiful Joan of\nNaples, who was taken prisoner and strangled.\"\n\n\"I have a dim remembrance of her,\" said the afflicted lady.\n\n\"I must relate to you,\" continued the other, \"the adventure of a\nsovereign princess who, within my recollection, was dethroned after\nsupper, and who died in a desert island.\"\n\n\"I know her whole history,\" replied the lady.\n\n\"Well, then,\" said Citosile, \"I will tell you what happened to another\ngreat princess whom I instructed in philosophy. She had a lover as all\ngreat and beautiful princesses have. Her father surprised this lover in\nher company, and was so displeased with the young man's confused manner\nand excited countenance, that he gave him one of the most terrible blows\nthat had ever been given in his province. The lover seized a pair of\ntongs and broke the head of the angry parent, who was cured with great\ndifficulty, and who still bears the marks of the wound. The lady in a\nfright leaped out of the window and dislocated her foot, in consequence\nof which she habitually halts, though still possessed in other respects\nof a very handsome person. The lover was condemned to death for having\nbroken the head of a great prince. You can imagine in what a deplorable\ncondition the princess must have been when her lover was led to the\ngallows. I have seen her long ago when she was in prison, and she always\nspoke to me of her own misfortunes.\"\n\n\"And why will you not allow me to think of mine?\" said the lady.\n\n\"Because,\" said the philosopher, \"you ought not to think of them; and\nsince so many great ladies have been so unfortunate, it ill becomes you\nto despair. Think of Hecuba, --think of Niobe.\"\n\n\"Ah!\" said the lady, \"had I lived in their time, or in that of so many\nbeautiful princesses, and had you endeavored to console them by a\nrelation of my misfortunes, would they have listened to you, do you\nimagine?\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nNext day the philosopher lost his only son, and was entirely prostrated\nwith grief. The lady caused a catalogue to be drawn up of all the kings\nwho had lost their children, and carried it to the philosopher. He read\nit--found it very exact--and wept nevertheless.\n\nThree months afterwards they chanced to renew their acquaintance, and\nwere mutually surprised to find each other in such a gay and sprightly\nhumor. To commemorate this event, they caused to be erected a beautiful\nstatue to Time, with this inscription: \"TO HIM WHO COMFORTS.\"\n\n[Illustration: The winged dragon.][1]\n\n\n\n\nANCIENT FAITH AND FABLE.\n\n\nIn order to be successful in their efforts to govern the multitude,\nrulers have endeavored to instill all the visionary notions possible\ninto the minds of their subjects.\n\nThe good people who read _Virgil_, or the _Provincial Letters_, do not\nknow that there are twenty times more copies of the _Almanac of Li\u00e8ge_\nand of the _Courier Boiteux_ printed, than of all the ancient and modern\nbooks together. No one can have a greater admiration than myself for the\nillustrious authors of these _Almanacs_ and their brethren. I know that\never since the time of the ancient Chaldeans there have been fixed and\nstated days for taking physic, paring our nails, giving battle, and\ncleaving wood. I know that the best part of the revenue of an\nillustrious academy consists in the sale of these _Almanacs_. May I\npresume to ask, with all possible submission, and a becoming diffidence\nof my own judgment, what harm it would do to the world if some powerful\nastrologer were to assure the peasants and the good inhabitants of\nlittle villages that they might safely pare their nails when they\nplease, provided it be done with a good intention? The people, I shall\nbe told, would not buy the _Almanacs_ of this new astrologer. On the\ncontrary, I will venture to affirm, that there would be found among\nyour great geniuses many who would make a merit in following this\nnovelty. Should it be alleged, however, that these geniuses, in their\nnew born zeal, would form factions and kindle a civil war, I would have\nnothing farther to say on the subject, but readily give up for the sake\nof peace my too radical and dangerous opinion.\n\nEvery body knows the king of Boutan. He is one of the greatest princes\nin the universe. He tramples under his feet the thrones of the earth;\nand his shoes (if he has any) are provided with sceptres instead of\nbuckles. He adores the devil, as is well known, and his example is\nfollowed by all his courtiers. He one day sent for a famous sculptor of\nmy country, and ordered him to make a beautiful statue of Beelzebub. The\nsculptor succeeded admirably. Never before was there seen such an\ninteresting and handsome devil. But, unhappily, our Praxiteles had only\ngiven five clutches to his statue, whereas the devout Boutaniers always\ngave him six. This serious blunder of the artist was aggravated by the\ngrand master of ceremonies to the devil with all the zeal of a man\njustly jealous of his master's acknowledged rights, and also of the\nestablished and sacred customs of the kingdom of Boutan. He insisted\nthat the sculptor should be punished for his thoughtless innovation by\nthe loss of his head. The anxious sculptor explained that his five\nclutches were exactly equal in weight to six ordinary clutches; and the\nking of Boutan, who was a prince of great clemency, granted him a\npardon. From that time the people of Boutan no longer believed the dogma\nrelating to the devil's six clutches.\n\nThe same day it was thought necessary that his majesty should be bled,\nand a surgeon of Gascony, who had come to his court in a ship belonging\nto our East India Company, was appointed to take from him five ounces of\nhis precious blood. The astrologer of that quarter cried out that the\nking would be in danger of losing his life if the surgeon opened a vein\nwhile the heavens were in their present state. The Gascon might have\ntold him that the only question was about the king's health; but he\nprudently waited a few moments and then, taking an _Almanac_ in his\nhand, thus addressed the astrologer.\n\n\"You was in the right, great man! The king would have died held he been\nbled at the instant you mentioned; but the heavens have since changed\ntheir aspect, and now is the favorable moment.\"\n\nThe astrologer assented to the surgeon's observation. The king was\ncured; and by degrees it became an established custom among the\nBoutaniers to bleed their kings whenever it was considered necessary.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAlthough the Indian astronomers understood the method of calculating\neclipses, yet the common people obstinately held to the old belief that\nthe sun, when obscured, had fallen into the throat of a great dragon,\nand that the only way to free him from thence was by standing naked in\nthe water and making a hideous noise to frighten away the monster, and\noblige him to release his hold.[2] This notion, which is quite prevalent\namong the orientals, is an evident proof how much the symbols of\nreligion and natural philosophy have at all times been perverted by the\ncommon people. The astronomers of all ages have been wont to distinguish\nthe two points of intersection, upon which every eclipse happens, and\nwhich are called the Lunar Nodes, by marking them with a dragon's head\nand tail. Now the vulgar, who are equally ignorant in every part of the\nworld, took the symbol or sign for the thing itself. Thus, when the\nastronomers said the sun is in the dragon's head, the common people said\nthe dragon is going to swallow up the sun; and yet these people were\nremarkable for their fondness for astrology. But while we laugh at the\nignorance and credulity of the Indians, we do not reflect that there are\nno less than 300,000 _Almanacs_ sold yearly in Europe, all of them\nfilled with observations and predictions equally as false and absurd as\nany to be met with among the Indians. It is surely as reasonable to say\nthat the sun is in the mouth or the claws of a dragon, as to tell people\nevery year in print that they must not sow, nor plant, nor take physic,\nnor be bled, but on certain days of the moon. It is high time, in an age\nlike ours, that some men of learning should think it worth their while\nto compose a calendar that might be of use to the industrious classes by\ninstructing instead of deceiving them.\n\nA blustering Dominican at Rome said to an English philosopher with whom\nhe was disputing:\n\n\"You are a dog; you say that it is the earth that turns round, never\nreflecting that Joshua made the sun to stand still!\"\n\n\"Well! my reverend father,\" replied the philosopher, \"ever since that\ntime hath not the sun been immovable?\"\n\nThe dog and the Dominican embraced each other, and even the devout\nItalians were at length convinced that the earth turns round.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAn augur and a senator lamented, in the time of C\u00e6sar, the declining\nstate of the republic.\n\n\"The times, indeed, are very bad,\" said the senator, \"we have reason to\ntremble for the liberty of Rome.\"\n\n\"Ah!\" said the augur, \"that is not the greatest evil; the people now\nbegin to lose the respect which they formerly had for our order. We seem\nbarely to be tolerated--we cease to be necessary. Some generals have the\nassurance to give battle without consulting us. And, to complete our\nmisfortunes, even those who sell us the sacred pullets begin to reason.\"\n\n\"Well, and why don't you reason likewise?\" replied the senator, \"and\nsince the dealers in pullets in the time of C\u00e6sar are more knowing than\nthey were in the time of Numa, ought not you modern augurs to be better\nphilosophers than those who lived in former ages?\"\n\n\n[1] This dragon was of the same species, _Draco Volans_, as the savage\nreptile slain by St. George, the patron saint of England, or the\nsleepless dragon at Colchis, from which Jason rescued the _golden\nfleece_. The bible history abounds with allusions to dragons, and with\nprophecies of their coming exploits in the stellar spheres. These\nmarvels may be considered, however, as more strange than credible, and\nmore ancient than authentic--E.\n\n[2] In Rev. XII: 3, 4, the Dragon is represented as deftly seizing\none-third of the stars of heaven with his tail, and rudely wresting them\nin dire confusion from the celestial spheres.--E.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n<pre id=\"pg-footer\">","title":"Voltaire's Romances, Complete in One Volume","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":180328}