PERSIAN LETTERS. No. VI. FROM MULEY CID SADI, ONE OF THE SECRETARIES TO HIS EXCELLENCY THE PERSIAN AMBASSADOR IN LONDON, TO OSMAN CALI BEG, HIS FRIEND IN ISPAHAN. BELOVED friend of my youth, I have received a packet of your letters in answer to those which I first sent you, and shall now endeavour to answer your questions. There will be some difficulty, however in so doing, as in conceiving those questions, and the expression of them, you have had an eye to institutions in Persia, with which there is nothing analagous in those of this country. The sun of science and religion, which has for so many centuries enlightened !'ersia and rendered it a worthy abode of the true religion, has not yet reached this land of Infidels; with the exception of the mechanic arts, and the arts of eating and drinking (what they term cookery), they are still barbarians. With respect to your first question, as to the nobles, the nobles of this land are very different from those in Persia; it is a principle in Persia, that the nobles are rays of the majesty of the throne, and that in their own person they should represent in an inferior degree only, the character of the Prince. Hence they are, in their respective circles, as absolute, as mighty, as sovereign, and as princely as the Sultan himself; their servants wear their heads only at the pleasure of their master, and the house, under this salutary authority, is as well administered as the kingdom. Happy kingdom where every master of a family is indeed master of his family; where a seditious wife or a rebellious child may be decapitated or hanged; where justice preserves peace, and all are obedient under the authority of the master. It is not so in England. The women set up a claim to equality with the men, and in the best houses they are too powerful. I have myself seen a woman rebel against her husband; I have seen a servant seditious against his master, and instead of losing his head lose only his livery. There is law enough in the state, but none in the No. VI.-Vol. I.-N. S. private house; and a husband, as far as I can see, has no farther rights in his family, than that of paying all its expences. His wife (for the law allows him but one, though he may be rich enough to purchase a dozen) sets his authority at defiance an hundred times a day, and he has no remedy. It is lawful, indeed, for a man to chastise his wife; but, as I am informed, there is no case in which he is allowed to order her to be strangled. The law, indeed, will sometimes do it for him; for example, where the woman has murdered him. But adultery is only a civil injury, as it is called. The woman is valued at so much, and the adulterer pays it, and takes Iris purchase. The woman receives no manner of punishment; she has not even her arms lopt off, which, as you know is the punishment amongst us for the women who only lift up their veils in a public street. The nobles, morcover, have as little to distinguish them when they walk or ride out, as in their houses; no one prostrates themselves before them; they are pushed about the streets as if they were so many water-carriers. Though I am a Mussulman, and an Ambassador, and therefore even in the eyes of the laws of England, the greatest man in the kingdom, next to their own Sovereign and the Princes of blood, yet if I were to demand the head of an Englishman who offended me, who happened to laugh at my beard, or be in my way, it would not be granted to me. This is a piece of the barbarism of the country. In Persia, if an English Ambassador were to demand the heads of a dozen Persians, they would be sent to him in a hamper, as if they were so many turnips. But in this country the law is without vigour and the men without beards; the women govern the house, and none evea Mm know how to sit right but the taylors; I have seen no correct resemblance of a Persian levee but a taylor's shop-board, || there every one sits at his ease, and in all his natural and unrestrained dignity. I have been to see a spectacle which they call "Blue Beard;" it is the only natural drama in the country, and when I saw Blue Beard, I thought I saw my father, he ordered off the heads of his wives with true Persian dignity; and remembered me of your illustrious grandfather, who, to extinguish a feud in his ha em, decapitated one wife and three slaves, and slit the tongues of three other wives. A few examples of this kind would be of infinite usc amongst this people, but as I have before told you, the law is unluckily in the way. From London, the city of Infidels, in the Month denominated May." [To be continued] THE HISTORY OF THE OLDCASTLE FAMILY. AN ORIGINAL NOVEL. [Continued from Page 224.] "It was not till after some interval that I at length procured an explanation from the agitated Mirabel. He at length informed me, that he had returned to the theatre indignant at the treatment he had met with, and imagining that a young man in the uniform of a Lieutenant of the navy regarded him with a look of insult, he had himself anticipated him by grossly affronting him. A challenge had ensued, they had met, and the Lieutenant had fallen; nor is this all,' added he, 'alas, my Mary, this Lieutenant is your cousin William. It was his own proposal that we should maintain our ground till one of us fell. My aim has been too sure.' "It was too late, however, to endeavour to escape the consequences, the police was alarmed, and Mirabel was arrested as we were getting into a post-chaise for Dover. As the sessions were at hand, his trial was expected to come on in a few days. form me that he was a clergyman in the neighbourhood of my father, and had become acquainted with him since my elopement. The consequences of your error have been fatal indeed; in the apathy of despair, your father neglected his concerns, and his affairs have all hastened to ruin. His small estate has been sold, and even this has been insufficient to discharge the debts which accrued from his neglect. He was this morning arrested, and thrown into prison.' "Tell, tell me, exclaimed I, where I shall fly to his relief.' "It is too late,' replied the stranger, 'your father is beyond all human help.He is dead; yes, I must conceal nothing, he has died of a broken heart under its other name of an apoplexy.' "I will not attempt to describe the effect of this intelligence. "I passionately, however, justified my In this interval, I was one day inform-self as being married to Mirabel. "You are in error, there,'said the stran ed by my servant that a gentleman waited below to speak with me. Imagining that || ger; 'your father had heard something of it might be some person from Mirabel, I || the report of a private marriage, I called obeyed the summons. I found the gentleman, however, to be a perfect stranger. He demanded of me if my name was Mary Saunders, and if I was the daughter of the farmer of that name, at Teignmouth in Devonshire. I replyed in the affirmative. Then,' said he, have I to discharge a mournful task.'-He then proceeded to in on Sir Harry to enquire into the truth; he treated me with haughty insolence, denied the marriage, and defied us to produce our witnesses.—In a word, your father was sensible a few moments before his death, and || addressed himself to me as a dying man. I bear you his forgiveness,-1 am engaged to discover to you your situation. Mirabel is 1 one of the worst of libertines.-Read and be convinced.' "With these words he put a newspaper into my hands, and directed my attention to some passages. The name of Mirabel collected all my faculties. In the same paper, and same column, was his trial and acquittal in the affair of the duel, and ano her in which he was cast in damages of seven thousand pounds for the seduction || of a married woman, the wife of one of his fiends. I know not what supphed me with strength to endure this shock of mi.ery without at once sinking under it. But the cup of bitterness was not yet full. "I passed the whole of the night in an agony of grief which surpasses all description, and even imagination.-It was now that the pernicious principles infused by the authors I had perused, commenced their fatal operation. I coolly and deliberatcly resolved on suicide as my last refuge; 2nd so infatuated was I, that considering this rei efas sure, and beyond all human power to wrest from me, I became in a degree consoled, and towards morning had even some hours sleep. "I rose with this resolution, my situation was that of an horrible apathy, a false tranquillity at which I tremble as I now recail it to my memory. Another stranger requested admittance to me upon business of importance. Decided in my resolution, I was indifferent to every thing, and ordered him to be admitted. After a long preface he entered upon his business, which was a proposal from Sir Harry of an annual allowance, and ali further connection to cease. He informed me that there was no witnesses nor any entry in any public register of our marriage, if such had taken place, and that it was most to my interest to compound what I could not prevent. "I dismissed this gentleman with an answer that Mirabel should soon be satis. fied that he should find no opposition to his designs from me. He was no sooner gone than I rushed from the house, and made the attempt from which your humanity rescued me." It is now time to return to Agnes. Accompanied by Lady Beachcroft and family, she had attended the rout of the Countess Shuffleton. This lady was a The rooms were all splendidly illuminated, and the admiration of Agnes was not | unjust.-The crowd was immense, it was rather the concourse of spectators to a public spectacle, than an assemblage of friends. Agnes looked around her in won. der. She had never before seen such a profusion of magnificence.-Bronze figures of Grecian vestais, ar d Egyptian sphinxes, supported innumerable lights, and though the winter was now far advanced, the display of fruits on the side-boards, and flowers in the recesses, led the fancy back to the past-summer, and created a scene of fairy beauty. Mirabel had joined the Beachcroft party, and Agnes was too cheerful to testify her repugnance, though she would have preferred any other companiou. In their promenades up and down the several rooms, Sir George, Lady Beachcroft, and her daughter insensibly disappeared, nor did Agues miss them, till she found heiseif left alone with Mirabel. She now hastened from one apartment to another in search of them, but her search was fruitless. Her attention was now attracted by a scene of general confusion. The defiance of law, with which the Countess Shuffleton had opened her house as a professed subscription house, had several times awakened the indignation of the police magistrates, and a general command had been given to their officers to watch their opportunity, and detect the gamesters in their act. They had been several times repulsed by the porters and other hired assistants drawn up in array before the doors, but had not succeeded in a forced entry. The apartments were soon filled with constables, and every thing was in confusion. Agnes requested Mirabel to seek her party. Mirabel apparently obeyed, but in a moment returned." Sir George," said he, "and the ladies are seeking you below, permit me to lead you to them."-Agnes | accepted his arm, and hastened to the lower apartments. Neither Sir George nor any of his party were there," they are not gone, however," said Mirabel; "for I see their carriage. It will be the surest way to permit me to conduct you to it, as you can wait in it till they join you." Agnes had no objection to this apparent ly reasonable proposal. The carriage was at some distance.-Alarmed and bewilder ed, Agnes hastened forwards supported by the arm of Mirabel. "There is nothing to fear," said he; "though it is doubtless better to effect our retreat, as the officers of the police have a general warrant against all whom they may find here, and therefore will make no distinction. They will seize the persons of those who may first fall in their way, and our names may be thus rather disagreeably published." "Alas, why did Sir George bring me to such a place?" replied Agnes. "Nay," added Mirabel, "no possible blame can attach to Sir George, for this unpleasant adventure; the Countess is visited as much, and more, than other women of quality. She supports herself indeed, as many others in this town support themselves by assisting the convenience of her friends. She has no enemies but the police, who have at length succeeded in interrupting the harmony of her meetings." As he uttered these words, he stopped abruptly, and a servant opened the door of a travelling chariot. Four horses were harnessed to it, and by the light of the lamps in front, Agnes saw a pistol in the pocket of the door which was opened. She started back in terror, seeing that it was not Sir George's carriage. Mirabel passing his arm around her waist raised her into the chariot, the servants hastily closed the door, and the postillions drove on at an unusual rate. Agnes was rendered motionless by her terror and astonishment, and suffered Mirabel to take her hand without resistance." Pardon me, sweetest Agnes," said he, "that my despair has hurried me to this excess. But I cannot live without you. I have in vain endeavoured to extinguish a passion which preys upon my heart, and which has encreased in the same proportion as it has become more hopeless. Despair has reduced me to this act. Impute it to my love and fear nothing." Indignation now inspired Agnes with courage to demand what he meant by an outrage of this nature. "Nothing," replied he, "but to bring you nearer to myself by removing you from all others.-Fear nothing, your ho. nour will be respected as though you were in the house of your father. You will be restrained in nothing but your liberty. But I cannot tamnely submit that the coxcomb Beachcroft, with his stiff morality, shall prevail over me by the advantage of opportunity." The chariot was already beyond the streets of the metropolis, the night was dark, and rendered still more so by a thunder storm which was fast-collecting. Agnes saw that it was in vain to call for assistance. She did not attempt it,-she resolved to defer the attempt till they should reach some house on the road. Her terror was too great even to suffer her to sink under it. Wild, pale, and all the faculties of her mind suspended in the horror of expectation, Agues sat motionless as a statue, whilst Mirabel continued to implore her pardon, but was careful not to irritate her by any further outrage. The chariot at length reached its first stage. Agnes was preparing to solicit the interposition of the people of the inn, but no one appeared but a boy who changed the horses. Agnes now for the first moment remembered the late hour of he night; the chariot moved on again at its former rapidity, and Agnes in despair of relief, appealed to the humanity and gene. rosity of Mirabel. Mirabel could scarsely conceal a smile as she uttered these words. He was not a man to be moved by the eloquence of innocence. He contented himself with endeavouring to console her by repeating his assurances that she had nothing to fear.In this manner passed another stage, and they were now near forty miles from town. The morning at length appeared, and dicovered to Agnes that she had entered an inclosed country, and was proceeding by a road of which she was wholly ignorant, They at length stopped to breakfast. Agnes now resolved not to leave the inn without informing the people of her forcible abduction; she entered the room of the inn, Mirabel followed her. "I know your intention," said he; “but that you may not needlessly expose yourself, I will inform you that you efforts will be useless. The people of the inn are to be given to understand that you are my sister, and one of whom I am appointed the guar. dian, and that I have removed you thus abruptly, that you might not elope with a libertine lover. If they doubt rey word, here is the instrument sealed with the great seal of the Chancery, by which I am appointed guardian of your person." Agnes threw her eyes upon it, and seeing that he had not spoken more than was true, began now to comprehend the dan gerous plot, and gave herself up as lost. "You see, therefore," continued he, "that all résistance is useless. As the guardian of your person, I have the legal right of removing you to whatever place I ay see occasion, or deem prudent. You see that you are wholly in my power, but I am not ungenerous enough to abuse this power. As your guardian I disliked the visits of young Bellasis and others, and have executed my duty in thus removing you." con These last words were uttered with something between the smile of raillery and the sneer of triumph. Agnes was founded, and found herself involved in toils from which she saw it impossible to extricate herself. She saw by the looks of the waiter and attendants that the postillions had already published the story as feigned for the purpose by Mirabel; she concluded that all appeal would not only be useless, but even expose her to ridicule. So confident in his success was Mirabel that he left her in the room whilst he proceeded to order the horses, Agnes seized the moment, and in an abrupt manner endeavoured to excite the compassion of the landlady. The good woman listened to her in patience, and at length answered, "that she got her bread by attending to her own and not to other people's business, that Mirabel appeared a good gentleman, and too good natured to ill treat a sister, syen though she might deserve it." "I am not his sister, indeed, indeed I am not," exclaimed Agnes. "That may be as it may," replied the landlady, "but I would advise you not to be too hasty; marry in haste and repent in leisure," says the proverb, "and I say so too. Here stand I, Deborah Wellcharge, my first husband was a young se jeant in the Guards, I run away with him as you might do, if your good brother had not prevented you, and a devil of a husband did he prove to me sure enough, he eat and drank up all the profits of the inn. Three meals a day and a supper at night would not suit the young rogue. He died just in time to save me f om bankruptcy,— heaven rest his soul, he was a hearty youth, though he drank a galion as though it was a half-pint." Agnes saw it was in vain to persuade the old woman against the truth of the first story circulated by Mirabel's postillions. She knew by former experience the obstinacy of the vulgar. Mirabel returned to the room to reconduct her to the chariot before she could make any further efforts. Taking her hand with an air of incomparable ashe, "I love you too well to treat you with surance,"Fear nothing, my sister," said rigour, I should not have resisted your inworthy, but he is a wretch beyond your clinations had I deemed their object contempt." Agnes here was sufficiently recovered from her first amazement to withdraw her hand indignantly, the landlady siniled upon Mirabel, "The young lady," said she, will soon know her friends, but youth is one thing, and prudence another, as my husband Jack used to say." She Agnes saw it was in vain to resist. permitted herself again, therefore, to be led to the chariot, which again moved on with its former speed. The external respect of Mirabel still continued, as if he wished in this manner to compensate for his first outrage. Agnes alternately vented her grief and indignation. Mirabel, however, was alike insensible to her tears, and her reproaches. He replied to them only by assuming an air of sorrow and humility, intreating her |