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LETTERS 

OF  A 

PERUVIAN  PRINCESS 

WITH 

THE    SEQUEL. 

Trau/latta  frcoi  :".*  Frea;h  of 

MADAME   DE  GRAFIGXY. 

'JWO  VOLUMES  IN  ONE. 
VOL.  I. 


Ccafic'':^"  a3Dirion. 


}  VB';i,M.  HiJ)    UJT 


prjntert  fnr  C.   COoXK,  No.  i-,  Pite.-n.^£.--P.cw 

And  lu;.-!  by  ail  rhe  Bo  kfeUers  ^r. 

Grtr.:-Brira;n  ?.«a 

Ireland. 


LIFE  pF 
MADAME   De  GRAFIGNY. 

MEMBER   OF   THE   ACADEMY  OF   FLOREXCE. 

M^ADAME  De  Grangny  was  born  in  Lorrain,  December  12, 
iGgf^,  and  died  at  Paiis,  in  the  fixty-fourth  year  of  her  age. — 
Her'tatlier,  who  by  delcent  was  of  the  houfe  of  Iffemburg  in 
Germany,  in  his  younger  days,  ferved  i*  :he  French  army.  He 
was  aid  de  camp  to  Marfhal  BouHers  at  the  fiege  of  Namur.  Lewis 
XIV.  in  recompence  for  his  Lrvices,  made  him  a  gentleman  of 
franco,  as  he  was  before  of  Germany  ;  and  confirmed  all  his  ti- 
tles.    He  afterwards  attached  himfalf  to  the  court  of  Lorrain. 

His  daughter  was  married  to  Francis  Huguet  of  Grafigny,  ex- 
empt of  the  bod  y  guards,  and  chamberlain  to  the  Duke  or  Lon-ain . 
Much  did  fiie  fufter  from  the  treatment  of  her  hufband  :  and  after 
many  years  of  heroic  patience,  was  juridically  feparated  from  him. 
She  had  fome  children  by  him,  who  all  died  young,  before  their 
father. 

Madam  Grafigny  was  of  a  grave  difpofition  j  her  converfation 
did  not  difplay  thofe  talents  which  fhe  had  received  from  nature. 
A  folid  judgment,  a  heart  tender  and  benevolent,  ard  a  behaviour 
affable,  uniform,  and  ingenuous,  hadgained  her  many  friends,  a 
long  time  before  ihe  had  any  profpeft  of  having  literary  admirers. 

Mademoifelle  de  Gulfe  coming  to  Paris  to  celebrate  her  nup- 
tials with  the  Duke  de  Richelieu,  brought  with  her  Madam  de 
Grafigny  ;  and,  but  for  this  incident,  perhaps  {he  would  never 
have  iesn  that  city  j  at  leaft,  her  fituation  in  life  by  no  means 
gave  her  reafon  to  think  of  it :  neither  had  ihe,.  nor  any  of  lier 
friends,  at  that  time,  the  leaft  profpecl  of  the  reputation  which 
attended  her  in  that  capital.  Several  per fons  of  wit,  who  were 
united  into  a  fociety,  of  which  fliealfo  became  a  member,  inlliled 
on  her  giving  th-m  fom^ething  for  their  Recneil,  which  vras  printed 
in  duodecimo,  in  the  year  1745.  The  piece  which  flie  gave  is 
the  moft  confidsrable  in  that  colle£lion.  It  is  called  Ncwvelle  Ef- 
pa^noie  j  le  mauvah  exernple  f  rod-ait  aiitant  re  'virtus  que  de  inces* 
The  title  itfelf,  we  fee,  is  a  maxim,  and  the  novel  is  full  of  them. 
This  little  piece  was  not  reliihed  by  fome  of  the  affociates.  Ma- 
dam de  Grafigny,  piqued  at  the  pleafantries  oftlicfe  gentlemen 
on  her  Spaniih  novel,  without  faying  any  thing  to  the  fociety, 
compofed  the  Letters  of  a  p  ruvic:;:,  which  had  the  greate^  fuc- 
cefs.  A  fliort  time  after  v  e  gave  the  French  theatre,  Can:,  a 
piece  of  five  afts,  in  profe,  v.-  h'xh  was  received  with  an  apphufe 
that  has  continued  to  the  preient  day.  This  play  is  one  of  tlis 
b  eft  we  have  of  the  fentimental  kind.  La 

*  A  Spamfn  novel:  bad  example;  produce  as  many  virtue:  as  \-ijts. 
A  2 


IV  ^      tlTE    GF    MAftAME    BE    GRAFICNY. 

La  F;//V  d" yli-ifvJey  another  comedy  in  profe,  had  not,  on  re- 
prcrentation,  the  fame  fuccefs  with  C:mc.  It  was  publifiied  after 
the  death  of  Madam  Grafigny :  it  is  faid  that  the  author  coneded 
the  I  aft  proof  on  the  very  day  of  her  death.  It  is  alfo  confidently 
reported,  tiiat  the  ill  fuccefs  of  this  piece  on  theftage,  contributed 
not  ^  little  to  the  diforder  of  which  fhe  died.  Madam  de  Grafigny 
hid  that  laudable  regard  for  her  reputation  which  is  the  parent  oV 
many  taltnrs  :  a  cenforious  epigram  had  given  her  great  chagrin  j 
and  which  fhe  freely  atlcnowledgcd. 

Bcfides  thefe  two  printed  dramas,  Madam  de  Grafigny  wrote  a 
little  fairy  tale  of  one  aft,  called  A'z'.r,  \\hich  was  performed  at 
her  own  apartments ;  and  which  fhe  was  perfu:.ded  not  to  give  to 
the  comedians.  She  alfo  compofed  three  or  four  pieces  of  one  aft 
that  were  rcprcfented  at  Vienna,  by  the  children  of  the  Emperor. 
Thefe  are  of  the  fimple  and  moral  kind,  on  accountof  theauguft 
charafters  who  were  to  be  inftrufted  by  them. 

Their  imperial  majeilies,  the  emperor  and  emprcfs,  queen  of 
Hungary  and  Bohemia,  honoured  our  author  with  a  particular  ef- 
teem'j  and  made  her  frequent  prefents  ;  as  did  alfo  eiieir  royal 
highnelTes  Prince  Charles,  and  the  princefs  Charlotte  of  Lorrain, 
with  whom  ihe  had  moreover  the  dirtinguiilied  honour  of  a  lirerarj 
correfpondence. 

Madam  de  Grafigny  left  her  books  to  the  late  M.  Guymont  de 
Is  Touche,  author  of  the  modem  tragC'^y  of  Iphigenia  en  Tau- 
ridc,  aid  of  the  Epiille  to  Friend/hip.  He  enjoyed  this  donation 
but  little  more  than  a  year,  for  he  died  in  the  month  of  February 
176c.  She  left  all  her  papers  to  the  care  of  a  man  of  letters,  who 
had  been  her  friend  for  thirty  years  j  with  the  liberty  of  difpofing 
oi  them  in  fuch  manner  as  he  thought  proper. 

We  mav  judge  of  the  genius  of  Madam  de  Grafigny  by  her 
WTJtings  ;  and  of  her  morals  by  her  friends,  for  fhe  had  none  but 
thof?  of  the  greateft  merit  :  and  their  efteem  is  her  bcft  eulogy. 
The  ."h'.ingMilhed  marks  of  her  charafter  were  afenfibility,  anda 
g?odr..-i-  of  heart,  fcarccly  to  be  parallelled.  Her  whole  life  was 
one  aft  of  beneficence.  We  know  but  few  particular  circum- 
i1:mces  relating  to  it  \  for  fhe  never  fpoke  of  herfelf,  and  her  ac- 
tions wer^  covered  with  the  veil  of  fi-nplicity  and  mcdefFy.  We 
know  m  general,  indeed,  that  her  life  was  a  continued  leries  of 
misfortunes  5  and.  douhtlefs,  ir  was  from  th:fe  that  fhe  drew,  in 
PKt,  that  amiable  and  fublirr.e  philofophy  of  the  heart,  which 
clnriftcrifts  her  woiks,  vind  will  make  them  dear  to  pclierit)-. 

ADVERTISE- 


ADVERTISEMENT. 

If  truth,  when  k  ftrays  from  probability,  uru;'.ny  lofbs  its 
crcdiL  in  the  eye  of  reafon,  it  is  for  a  fhort  time  only  j  bur,  let  it 
co:itrad;(5i  prejudice  ever  fo  litde,  aad  it  will  feldum  find  favour 
before  that  tribunal. 

What  then  ought  not  the  editor  of  this  work  to  fear,  in  prc- 
fenting  to  the  public  the  letters  of  a  young  Peruvian,  whofe  ftyle 
and  thoughts  fo  little  agree  with  the  mean  idea  which  an  unjuft 
prejudice  has  coufed  us  to  form  of  that  nation  ? 

Enriclied  by  the  precious  fpoils  of  Peru,  we  ought,  at  leaft,  to 
regard  the  inhabitants  of  that  part  of  the  world  as  a  magnificent 
people  3  and  the  fentiment  of  refpedl  is  not  very  rem-ote  tirom  the 
idea  of  magnificence.  But  fo  prejudiced  are  we  always  in  our  own 
lavGur,  that  we  rate  the  m.erit  of  other  nations  not  only  in  propor- 
tion astheir  manners  imitate  ours,  but  in  proportion  as  their  ton- 
gues approach  nearer  to  our  idiom.  H'^iu  can  any  ore  beaPerJiar^* 

We  defpUe  the  Indians,  and  hsrdly  grant  a  thinking  foul  tp 
thcfe  unhappy  people  :  yet  their  hiftory  abounds  with  monuments 
of  the  fagacity  of  their  minds,  and  the  folidity  of  their  phiiolb- 
phy.  The  apoiogift  of  humanity,  and  of  beautiful  nature,-]-  has 
traced  the  outlines  of  the  Indian  manners  in  a  dramatic  poem,  the 
fubjefl  of  which  divides  the  glory  with  the  execution. 

With  fo  m.uch  light  jiven  us  into  the  charadlers  of  thefe  peo- 
ple, there  fnould  feem  no  room  to  fear  that  original  letters,  Vvhich 
only  exhibit  what  we  already  know  of  the  lively  and  natural  \\-\t 
of  ihe  Indians,  are  in  danger  of  palTmg  for  a  ficlion.  Put  hath 
prejudice  any  eyes  ?  There  is  no  fecurity  againft  its  judgment, 
and  we  ihould  have  been  careful  not  to  fubmit  this  work  to  It,  if 
i::s  empire  had  been  without  bounds.  .It  feem.s  needlefs  to  give 
jiotice,  that  the  firft  letters  of  Zilia  were  tranfiated  by  hericlf: 
every  one  muft  eafily  judge,  that,  being  com.pofed  in  a  langur.g'e, 
and  traced  In  a  manner  equally  unknown  to  us,  this  coilrclioa 
could  never  have  reached  us,  if  the  fame  hand  had  not  wricten 
them  over  in  our  tongue. 

We  owe  this  tranllation  to  Zilia's  leifure  in  her  retreat :  her 
complaifance  in  com^riunicatiiig  to  them  the  Chevalier  Deterville, 
and  chc  peimifiion  he  at  laft  obtained  to  keep  them,  were  the 
means  that  conveyed  them  into  our  hands. 

it  will  «afiiy  be  fcen,  by  the  peculiarity  of  ftyle,  that  we  havs 
b-en  fcrupuloufly  careful  not  to  take  away  any  thing  of  the  genu- 
ine fpirit  that  reigns  in  this  work.  We  have  been  content  with 
fupprelTing  (efpecially  in  the  firft  letters)  a  great  number  of  Ori- 
ental '■ 

*  The  tranfiatr.r  apprehends  this  fenrence  to  be  a  fatirical  repetition  after  ibme 
ncr  French  author.     There  'Asre  a  few  frroke   ma.-l.ea  in  the  fame  mariner  in 
n=  or  two  of  the  letters,  which  h    dirt  her  take  notice  of,  as  he  fuppofed  they 
T.^uld  be  uninteUi£ibls  to  the  Enjiiih  reader. 

t  M.  <e  VoIrai;e.  A  3 


>"!  APOLOGV. 

cntal*  terms  and  comparifons,  which  efcnped  Zilla,  though  flie 
knew  the  French  tongue  pertcdly  well  when  fhe  tranflated  them : 
we  iiave  only  left  (o  many  ofthem  as  may  fhew  the  neceflif  y  of  re- 
trenching the  reil:.  We  thought  it  polnble  alfo  to  give  a  more  in- 
telligible cum  to  certain  metaphvhcal  flrokes,  which  might  have 
apptared  obicnre  ;  but  this  we  have  done  without  changing  the 
thought  i-lclt.  This  is  the  only  part  that  the  editor  has  had  ia 
this  lingular  work. 


APOLOGY. 

1  O  what  the  editor  hath  already  faid,  the  tranfiator  begs  leave 
to  add,  that,  as  he  went  through  his  talk  with  peculiar  pleafure, 
he  hopes  he  has  donejuftice  to  a  work  which  appears  to  him  to 
hive  great  beauty  in  the  original.  The  Peruvian  character,  as 
far  as  wc  know  it  from  hiftory,  joined  to  that  of  good  fcnfe,  in- 
dexible virtue,  tender  fentiments,  and  unchangeable  afteftions, 
cannot  be  more  ftrongly  and  naturally  painted  than  in  the  letters  of 
Zilia  5  nor  do  we  often  fee  the  progiefs  of  the  human  mind  fo 
correclly  and  expreflively  drawn  as  in  thefe  letters. 

To  this  edition  are  now  firft  added  the  letters  of  Aza  ;  the  ad- 
vert! fcm?nt  prefixed  to  them  b)'  the  French  editor  fhews  by  what 
means  they  were  obtained.  We  fhall  only  add  here,  that  by  thefe 
letrers  the  hiftory  of  Aza  and  Zilia  is  rendered  complete.  We 
pvefume,  moreover,  that  in  the  force  and  turns  of  palfion,  in  de- 
licacy of  fentimei:t,  in  variety  of  incidents,  in  pertinent  rejec- 
tions, and  in  dignity,  propriety,  and  elegance  of  exprtflion,  thoy 
•,  ill  not  be  found  inferior  to  the  mof.  admired  aniong  the  letters 

■.   Z;]i3. 

♦  The  Fi  cnnh  eriitor  here  ure<:  Oriental,  for  loft:y  and  fveWng,  ihouBh  tr.« 
Ptru/iiins,  with  reipeit  to  us,  ire  certainly  ^a  Occidental  people. 


AN  HISTORICAL  INTRODUCTION 

TO  THE 

PERUVIAN  LETTERS. 

-I  HERE  is  no  people  the  knowledge  of  whole  origin  and  anti- 
quities is  more  confined  tlian  tlint  of  tiie  Peruvians.  Their  annals 
Icarcely  contain  the  hiAoi  y  or  four  centuries. 

Mancocapac,  according  to  the  tradition  of  thefe  people,  was  their 
legiflator  and  their  firft  Inca.  The  fun,  whom  they  call  their  fa- 
ther, and  regard  as  a  god,  touched,  they  fay,  with  that  barbarity 
in  which  they  had  for  a  long  time  lived,  fent  them  from  heaven 
two  of  his  children,  a  fon  and  a  daughter,  who  were  to  give  them 
laws,  and  to  induce  them,  by  cultivating  the  earth  and  raifing  of 
citits,  to  become  rational  beings.  It  was  therefore  to  Ma-r.cocafac 
and  to  his  wife  Ccya  Mama  Oelio  H-uaco,  that  the  Peruvians  owed 
thofe  principles,  thofe  manners  and  arts,  by  which  thvy  were 
naade  a  happy  people  :  before  avarice,  iffuing  from  a  world  of 
whofe  exigence  they  had  no  idea,  brought  tyrants  to  their  land, 
wholi  barbarity  was  a  difgiace  to  human  nature,  and  the  peculiar 
infamy  .of  the  age  in  whicn  they  lived. 

The  par'icular  fituation  of  the  Peruvians  at  the  time  the  Spa- 
niards made  their  d.fcent,  was  the  moft  favourable  to  the  latter 
that  can  be  conceived.  There  had  been,  for  fome  time  palt,  a 
report  of  an  oracle  whic  h  had  declared,  "That  aiter  a  certain 
number  of  kings  reig  is,  there  fhould  arrive  in  that  country  a  won- 
derful fort  of  men,  fuch  as  had  never  yet  been  leen,  who  fhould 
ufurp  their  government,  and  deftroy  their  religion." 

Tdough  aftronomy  was  ojie  of  the  chief  fcieixces  among  the 
Peruvians,  they  were  yet  as  much  frighted  by  prodigies  as  other 
nations.  Three  circle's  that  were  feen  round  the  moon  j  but  ef- 
pecially  certain  comets  which  then  appeared  ;  an  eagle  purfued 
by  other  birds  ;  the  fea  that  overflowed  its  bounds  j  ail  made  the 
predidlions  of  the  oracle  to  appear  as  infallible  as  they  were  fatal. 
Tke  eldeft  fo:i  of  the  fsventh  Incas,  whofe  name*,  in  the  Peru- 
vian language,  declared  the  fatality  of  his  freech,  had  formerly 
feen  a  figure  quite  different  from  that  of  the  Peruvians.  A  robe 
covered  the  fpcctre  quite  to  the  feet  ;  he  had  a  long  beard,  and 
v/ii  fe  ired  on  an  unknown  animal,  v.hich  he  governed.  Ail  this 
aftonilhed  the  young  prince,  to  whom  the  phantom  declared  that 
hewas  defcended  nom  the  fun,  was  the  brother  of  Mancocapac, 
and  thrit  he  v/as  called  Virachocha. 

This  ridiculous  rtory  had  been  unluckily  preferved  among  the 
Peruvians,  and  when  they  fiw  tne  Spaniards  with  long  beards, 
their  limbs  covered,  and  mounted  on  animals  they  had  never  be- 
fore feen,  they  took  them  to  be  the  children  of  Viricccha,  who 
eillcd  himfelf  the  offspring  of  the  fun  ;  and  from  thence  it  came 
thit  the  ufurpcr  alfumed,  by  the  amballddors  he  f.nt  among  them, 

the 

*  YAilUARHUOCAC,  wbivk  .'jtiraltj' lignii'ics,  BLOODY  TEARS.. 


VJii  AN    INTRODUCTORY    DISSERTATION 

the  tide  of  the  defcendant  from  the  god  they  adored.  All  things 
bowed  before  the  conquerors.  Mankind  are  every  where  the  fame. 
The  Spaniards  were  al.noft  generally  acknowledged  as  a  kind  of 
gods,  whofe  wrath  was  not  to  be  appeafed  by  the  moft  profufc 
ofrerings,  nor  the  moft  abjecl  humiliation. 

The  Peruvians  perceiving  that  the  horfes  of  the  Spaniards 
champed  their  bits,  imagined  that  thofe  tradable  monfters,  who 
partook  of  their  refpedl,  and  perhaps  their  worfhip,  were  nourifhed 
by  that  metal.  They  therefore  daily  brought  a  vaft  quantity  of 
gold  and  filver  and  laid  it  before  them,  by  way  of  offering.  We 
mention  this  circumftance  merely  to  ihew  the  credulity  of  the 
Peruvians,  and  the  facility  wich  which  the  Spaniards  were  enabled 
to  fubdue  them. 

Whatever  homage  the  Peruvians  might  render  the  tyrants, 
they  had  difplayed  too  much  or  their  riches  ever  to  have  any  fort 
of  indulgence  from  them.  A  whole  people,  fubmiflive  and  fup- 
plicating  mercy,  were  putto  the  fword.  By  the  violation  of  every 
luv  of  humanity,  the  Spaniards  became  abfolute  mailers  of  all 
the  treafures  of  one  of  the  richeft  dominions  of  the  earth.  *'  Def- 
'•'  picable  vidlories  1"  exclaimed  Montagne,  on  recollecting  the 
vile  objeil  ofthefe  conquefts.  *'  Never  did  ambition,  (adds  he.) 
never  did  public  animorities  urge  mankind  to  perfecute  each  other 
with  fuch  horrible  hoftilities,  or  fuch  deplorable  calamities." 

Thus  did  the  Peruvians  become  the  woeful  vidims  of  an  ava- 
ricious people,  who  at  firft  gave  no  figns  but  thofe  of  peace  and 
e\-en  friendfhip.  An  ignorance  of  our  vices,  and  the  hmplicity 
of  their  own  manners,  threw  them  into  the  arms  of  a  bafe  enemy. 
In  vain  had  immenfe  trafts  of  land  and  water  feparated  the  cities 
of  the  fun  from  our  world,  for  they  became  our  prey,  and  even 
the  mofV  precious  part  oi  our  dominions  What  a  fight  to  the  Spa- 
niards were  the  gardens  of  the  temple  of  the  fun!  where  the  trees, 
fruits  and  flov.'erswereoffolid  gold,  and  worked  with  an  art  unknown 
to  Europeans.  The  walls  of  the  temple  itfelf  lined  wi^h  the  fame 
metal :  an  infi  lite  number  of  ftatues  covered  with  precious  ftones, 
and  an  immenfe  quantity  of  other  treafures.  till  then  unknown, 
dazzled  the  conquerors  of  that  unhappy  people,  and  made  them 
forget,  in  the  midll  of  their  cruelties  j  that  the  Peruvians  were 
me.i.  An  analyfis  of  the  manners  of  thefe  unfortunate  people, 
equally  concife  with  that  we  have  here  given  of  their  calamities, 
ihall  finifh  that  introduttion  which  was  thougiit  neceflary  to  the 
fubfequent  letters. 

'i  he  Peruvians  were  in  general  of  an  ingenuous  and  humane 
difpofition ;  the  attachment  which  they  had  to  their  religion,  made 
them  rigid  obfervers  of  the  huvs,  Jor  they  regarded  them  as  the 
v/ork  of  Mancocapac,  the  fon  of  that  luminary  which  they  adored. 
Tho>'.gh  the  fun  was  the  only  god  to  whom  they  eredlcd  temples, 
yet  they  acknowledged,  as  iuperlor  to  him,  a  God  the  Creator, 
v.i'liom  they  called  Pach.\camuc  j  and  this  was  with  them  the.fu- 

premr 


TO    THE    PERUVIAN    LETTERS.  Ijt 

i^feme  appellation,  was  rarely  pronounced,  and  always  accompa- 
nied wilh  figns  of  che  moft  av.tul  admiration.  They  had  moreover 
a  great  veneration  for  the  moon,  which  they  regard .-d  as  the  wife 
and  fifter  of  t>.e  fun.  They  confidered  her  alfo  as  the  mother  of 
all  things  J  but  they  believed,  as  do  all  the  Indians,  that  fhe 
would  caufe  thediffolution  of  the  world,  by  falling  upon  the  earth, 
and  thereby  deftroying  i'.  The  thunder,  which  they  called 
Yalpor,  and  the  lightning,  pa^fed  among  them  as  m.iniil:ers  of 
juftice  to  the  fun  ;  and  thi^  idea  conTibuted  not  a  little  to  infpire 
them  with  thatawful  refpedl:hey  h  "i  for  the  firft  Spaniards,  whofe 
fire  arms  they  took,  to  be  th;  inllruments  of  thunder. 

The  opinio:!  of  the  immortality  of  the  foul  was  eftabliflied  among 
the  Peruvians.  They  fuppofed.  as  do  the  greateft  part  of  the  In- 
dians, that  the  foul  went  iiite  fome  unknown  region,  where  it 
was  rewarded  or  punifhed  according  to  its  merit. 

Gold,  and  all  that  was  the  moft  precious  among  them,  compof- 
ed  th?  offerings  which  they  made  to  the  faru  The  Raytri  was  the 
principal  feaft  of  that  god-  to  whonn  they  prefented  a  cup  of  »?tf)f , 
a  kind  offtrong  liquor,  v.^hichthey  were'fkilful  in extradiing  from 
one  of  their  plants,  and  of  wliich  they  drank  even  to  intoxicatjoil 
after  their  facrifices.  To  the  Tempk  of  the  Sun  there  were  an 
hundred  doors.  The  reigning Inca,  whom  they  called  Capa  Inca, 
had  the  fole  right  of  opening  thefe  dcors:  and  alfo  to  him  alone 
belonged  the  right  of  penetrating  into  the  interior  parts  of  the  tem- 
ple. Tlie  virgins,  who  v/ere  devoted  to  the  Sun,  v/ere  there  edu  ^ 
cated,  al  moft  from  their  birth ;  andtheythere  preferved  a  perpetuai 
virginity,  under  the  conduft  of  their  mamas,  or  governors;  un- 
lefs  when  the  law  had  ord'.ined  any  of  them  to  efpoufe  the  Inca, 
who  was  always  to  marry  his  fifter,  or  when  he  had  no  fifter,  the 
firft  princefs  of  the  blood,  who  was  a  virgin  of  the  Sun.  One  of 
the  principaloccupationsof  thefe  virgins  was  toprepare  the  diadems 
for  the  Incas,  of  which  a  fort  of  fringe  compofed  the  only  orna- 
ment.  This  temple  was  decorated  v.ith  the  ditl'erent  idols  of  na- 
tions who  had  fubmitted  to  the  Incas,  after  they  had  b^en  made  to 
embrace  the  worftiip  of  the  fun.  The  richnefs"  of  the  metals,  and 
of  the  precious  ftones  v.-ith  which  it  was  embelliftied,  gave  it  a 
magnificence  and  fnlendour  worthy  of  that  divinity  to  whom  it  was 
confecrated.  The  obedience  and  reverence  of  the  Peruvians  for 
their  king,  was  founded  on  the  belief  that  the  fun  was  the  father 
of  their  monarchs  •,  but  their  fidelity  and  aff;dion  for  them  was 
the  fruit  of  the  virtue  and  equitablegovemm.ent  ofthelrxas  them- 
felves.  The  youths  of  the  country  were  educated  with  all  that 
care  which  the  happy  fimplicity  of  their  morals  infpired.  Subor- 
dination was  there  fubmitted  to  with  alacrity,  becaufe  they  v.'ere 
early  accuftomed  to  it,  and  tyranny  and  pride  had  there  no  place. 
Modefty  and  mutual  aftcftion'were  the  .firftprinciples  of  their  edu- 
cation. Careful  to  correct  each  error  in  its  infancy,  they  whohad 
the  charge  of  their  youth,  either  fupprefled  a  rifing  paflion,  or 


X  AN    INTJtODVCTORY    DISSERTATION. 

turnej  it  to  the  advantage  ot  fociety.  There  are  loir£  virtues 
which  necefiarily  include  many  others.  To  give  an  idea  of  thofe 
of  the  Peruvians,  it  is  fumcient'to  fay,  that  before  the  defcent  of 
the  Spaniards,  it  pafies  for  an  indifputable  faft,  that  no  Peruvian 
was  ever  known  to  utter  a  falfity. 

The  Amutas,  or  philofophers  of  that  nation,  taught  their 
youths  the  difcoveri?s  they  had  made  in  the  fciences.  I'he  Peru- 
vians were  yet  in  the  infancy  of  that  fort  of  knowledge :  they  were 
however  in  the  full  vigpur  of  happ'mefs.  This  people  had  I'efs  in- 
formation, lefs  knowledge,  fewer  arts  than  we  have,  and  yet  they 
had  fufficient  to  provide  them  with  every  necefTary  of  life.  The 
qu.ipas  or  quipos*  ferving  them  inftead  of  our  writing.  Strings 
of  cotton  or  of  guts,  v/lth  which  other  firings  of  different  colours 
werz  united,  reminded  them,  by  means  of  knots  placed  at  certain 
diftances,  of  things  they  defired  to  remember.  By  the  help  of 
thefe  they  preferved  their  annals,  their  codes,  their  rituals,  &c. 
They  had  alfo  public  officers  whom  they  called  ^iuipccamam,  to 
the  care  of  whom  their  qiiipos  were  committed.  The  finances, 
the  difburfements,  the  tributes,  all  matters,  all  combinations, 
were  as  eafily  regulated  by  quipos,  as  they  could  have  been  by 
writing.  The  fage  legiflatorof  Peru,  Mancocapac,  had  inftitutcd 
the  culture  of  the  earth  as  a  facred  right;  they  enjoyed  their  lands 
in  common,  and  thedayscf  their  labour  were  the  days  of  feftivity. 
Canals  oi'a  prodigious  extent,  diftributed  every  where  refrefhmenC 
ar.d  fercility  j  and  what  is  fcarce  credible,  without  any  inftrumcnt 
of  iron  or  fteel ,  but  by  the  mere  force  of  labour,  thefe  people 
were  able  to  overthrow  rocks,  and  cut  through  the  higheft  moun- 
tains, in  order  to  carry  their  ftupendous  aqueducts,  or  their  public 
roads,  through  every  part  of  their  dominions.  The  Peruvians 
knciw  as  much  of  geometry  as  was  necelTary  to  meafure  and  divide 
their  lands.  Phyfic  was  there  unknown  as  a  fcience,  tiiough 
they  had  fome  medical  fecrets  which  were  pradifed  on  particular 
cccafions.  Garcilaflo  reports,  that  they  had  a  fort  of  mufic,  and 
even  lome  kinds  of  poetry.  Their  poets,  wnom  they  called //t?- 
fave:,  compofed  a  fpecies  of  tragedy  and  comedy,  which  the  fons 
of  the  caciquesy,  or  thecuraccasJI  veprefented,  during  their  fefti- 
val  times  before  the  inc '.sand  the  court.  Morality,  and  the  know- 
ledge of  the  laws  neceiTary  to  the  welfare  of  fociety,  were  therefore 
the  only  fciences  in  which  the  Peruvians  appear  to  have  been  well 
Skilled.  "  It  muft  be  allowed  (fays  an  hiftorianj)  that  they  have 
made fuch  great  ad  vancesin  the  fcience  of  policy ,  and  have  eftablirti- 
cd  fo  folid  I'.n  economy,  that  there  will  be  found  but  few  nations 
wlio  can  booft  of  havbig  excelled  them  in  thefe  matters." 

*  The  quipos  of  Peru  werealfc  in  ufe  with  many  other  nations  cf  South  America, 
f  The  cacijues  wer;  a  fort  of  governors  of  provinces. 
II  Sovereigns  of  a  fmall  territory.     Tliefe  never  appeared  before  the  incas  4nd 
the  queens,  wirhout  offering  them  atribute  of  the  curiofiiies  which  the  province 
where  tficy  commanded  produced. 

4^  Puffcadorff.     Introdufticn  to  hiftcry.  LETTER* 


COOKfc.8    POCXKT  ZD.'l.O^  Oi     Si-I^^'CT  I^'ON—.LS 


LETTERS 

OF   A 

PERUVIAN  PRINCESS. 

LETTER  I. 

Tb  AzA  :  account  of  her  being  taken  out  of  the  temple  of  tke 
Sun  by  tke  Spaniards. 

AZA  '  my  dear  Aza !  the  cries  of  thy  tender  Zilia, 
like  a  morning  vapour,  exhale  and  are  dlFipated 
before  they  arrive  in  thy  prelence  :  in  vain  I  call  thee  to 
my  luccour ;  in  vain  I  expect  thy  love  to  com.e,  and 
break  the  chains  of  my  flavery  5  alas  1  perhaps  the  mif- 
fortunes  I  am  yet  ignorant  of  are  the  moll  terrible  !  per- 
haps thy  woes  furpafs  even  mine  !  The  city  of  the  Sun, 
delivered  to  tlie  fury  of  a  barbarous  nation,  fliculd  make 
my  eyes  overflowvvdth  tears;  but  my  giief,  n-iy  fears, 
my  delpair,  are  for  thee  alone. 

Dear  foul  of  mv  life,  what  wert  thou  doing  in  that 
frightful  tumult  ?  Was  thy  courage  fatal  or  ufelels  to  thee  ? 
Cruel  alternative  1  diilraciing  anxiety !  O  my  dear  Aza, 
mayeft  thou  yet  live  in  fafety,  and  may  I  fmk,  if  it  be 
needful,  under  the  ills  that  opprefs  me.  Since  the  ter- 
rible moment  (which  fliould  have  been  matched  cut  of 
the  chain  of  time,  and  replunged  into  the  eternal  ideas) 
fmce  the  moment  of  lioiTor  wherein  thefe  impious  favages 
bore  m.e  av.-ay  from  the  worfliip  of  the  fun,  from  myielf, 
from  my  love  ;  retained  in  clofe  captivity,  deprived  of 
all  communication,  ignorant  of  the  language  of  thefe 
fierce  men ;  I  expei'ience  only  the  effects  of  misfortune, 
without  being  able  to  difcover  tlie  caufe  of  it.  Plunged 
in  an  abyfs  of  obfcurity,  my  days  refemble  the  moft 
dreadful  nights.  Far*  from  being  affected  with  my  com- 
plaints, my  ravifhers  are  not  touched  even  with  my  tears  j 
equally  deaf  to  my  language  and  to  the  cries  of  my  def- 
pair.  What  people  aie  there  fo  favage  as  to  be  umnov.ed 
at  the  figns  of  anguifn  ?  What  di'eary  defart  couid  pro.- 
'iuce  human  beings  infenfible  to  the  voice  of  groaning 
Nature  ?    O  the  barbai^ians,  favage  matters  of  the  tliun- 

der, 


71  THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS. 

-dcf,*  and  of  the  power  to extenninate ;  cruelty  Is  the  fole 
guide  of"  their  actions.  Aza,  how  wilt  thou  elcape  their 
fury?  Where  art  thou  ?  In  what  fituation  ?  If  my  life  is 
dear  to  thee,  Inform  me  of  thy  deftiny. 

Alas  !  how  is  mine  changed.  Whence  can  it  be, 
that  days,  in  themfclvesfo  like  one  another,  fliould,  with 
rcfpeft  tome,  havefuch  fatal  differences  ?  Tune  rolls  on, 
daiknels  fucceeds  light,  nothing  in  nature  appears  out  of 
order;  but  I,  of  late  iupremely  happy,  lo  I  am  fallen 
into  the  horror  of  delpair !  nor  wai,  there  an  intei-val  to 
prepare  m.e  for  this  fearful  change.  Thou  knovveft,  O 
delight  of  my  heart,  that  on  that  terrible  day,  that  day 
for  ever  dreadful,  the  triumph  of  cur  union  was  to  have 
fl:one  lorth.  Scarce  did  it  begin  to  appear,  vvh<?n  hripa- 
tient  to  execute  a  projeft  which  my  tendernefs  had  inlpired 
me  with  In  the  night,  I  ran  tomy  Qi£ipos,-f-  and,  taking 
advantage  of  the  lilence  which  then  reigned  in  the  tem- 
ple, halkned  to  knot  them,  in  hopes  that  by  their  affiit- 
ance  I  irJght  render  immortal  the  hillcry  of  our  love  and 
pur  felicity.  As  I  proceeded  in  my  work,  the  under- 
taking appeared  to  mic  lefs  difScult :  the  clue  of  innume- 
rable thieads  by  degrees  grew  imder  niy  lingers  a  faithful 
painting  of  our  a61ions  and  our  fentiraentsj  as  it  was 
heretofore  the  interpreter  of  our  thoiights  during  the  Ion* 
inteivals  of  our  ablencc  from  each  other.  Wholly  taken 
up  with  my  employment,  I  forgot  how  time  palled,  wheii 
a  ccnfuled  noife  awakened  my  ipirits,  and  put  my  lieart 
in  a  flutter.  I  thought  the  happy  moment  was  arrived, 
and  that  the  hundred  gatest  were  opening  to  give  a  free 
palTag«!  to  ihe  fun  of  my  days:  precipitately  I  hid  my 
Quipos  under  t]ie  lappet  of  my  robe,  and  nn  to  meet  thee. 
But  liovv  horrible  was  the  ipeflacle  that  appealed  before 

my 

*  Alluding  to  rhe  cannon. 
_  t  A  great  number  O:  firings  of  different  colours,  which  the  In- 
•  ilans  ule  for  want  of  wriiirg,  in  aacounting  the  pay  of  their 
their  troops  and  the  number  of  their  people.  Som£  aurhors  pve- 
tcr.d  that  they  make  ufecf  them  alio  totianfmit  to  pofterjty  t\\» 
memorable  adions  of  iheir  incas. 

X  In  the  tem.ple  of  the  fun  were  an  hundred  gates,  uhiN-k  the 
hica  pulv  hid  power  to  have  opened. 


THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS.  J  5, 

my  eyes !  The  frightful  idea  of  it  will  never  be  effaced 
cut  of  my  memor)'. 

The  pavement  of  the  temple  ftained  with  bbod  j  the 
image  ot  tliefun  trodden  under  loot  5  our  atFrighted  vir- 
gins flying  before  a  troop  or  furious  foldiers,  who  raaf- 
lacred  all  that  cppoled  their  paiTage  j  our  Mamas*  ex- 
piring under  their  wounds,  their  garments  ftill  burning 
with  the  fire  of  the  thunder ;  tiie  groans  of  uii'may,  the 
cries  of  rage,  fpreading  dread  and  horror  on  every  fide, 
brought  me  at  lalt  to  a  fenfe  of  my  mil'er}'-.  JBeing  re- 
txuned  to  myfelf,  I  found  that  by  a  natural,  and  almoft 
involuntary  motion,  I  was  got  behind  the  altar,  which  I 
embraced.  There  I  faw  the  barbarians  pafs  by  :  I  did 
not  dare  to  give  free  pafiage  to  my  panting  breath,  for 
fear  it  fliould  cell  me  my  iiie,  I  remarked,  however, 
that  the  effc61s  of  their  cruelty  abated  at  the  light  of  the 
prtcicus  ornaments  that  overfpread  the  temple ;  that  they 
feized  thofe  whofe  luftre  ftruck  them  m-cft  fenfibly;  and 
that  they  even  plucked  off  the  plates  of  geld  that  lined 
tlie  walls.  I  judged  that  theft  v/as  the  motive  of  their 
barbarity,  and  that,  to  avoid  death,  m.y  only  way  was 
to  conceal  m.yfelf  from  their  fight.  I  dcligned  to  have 
got  out  of  the  temple,  to  have  been  conducted  to  thy  pa- 
lace, to  have  demanded  fuccour  of  the  Capa  Tnca,j  and 
an  afyluni  for  my  cempanicns  and  me  :  but  nofccner  did 
1  attempt  to  llir,  than  I  was  arretted.  Oh  niydeai-Azai 
tlien  did  I  tremble  !  thefe  impious  men  dared  to  lay  tlieir 
hands  upcn  the  daughier  of  the  fun. 

Torn  from  the  facitd  abode,  dragged  ignomlnicufly 
cut  of  the  temple,  I  law  for  the  firiitime  tliethrtHicld  of 
tlie  celeftial  ^ate,  which  I  ought  not  to  have  palled  but 
w^-th  the  enfsgns  of  royaicy.];  Inftead  of  the  fiowcrs 
xvhich  ihould  have  been  dreived  under  my  fttt,  I  faw  the 
ways  covered  witli  bicod  and  carnage  :  inftead  of  theho- 
acurs  of  the  throne,  which   I  was  to  have  paitaken  of 

*  A  kind  of  governante  over  the  virgins  of  tlie  Sun. 
-f-  The  general  name  of  the  reigning  incas- 
j  The  virgins  coriecrated  to  the  Sup  enreied  the  terrple  almoil' 
2S  iaon  zt  bore,  and  never  Ci-.meout  till  the  dr.y  of  their  rnarriag!-. 

B  wiih 


14-  THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS. 

v.ith  thee,  I  Hndinyicifaflaveiuiderthe  laws  of  tyranny, 
i'..ui:  up  in  an  obfcure  priion,  the  place  that  I  occupy  in 
the  unirerfe  is  bcuudsd  by  the  extent  of  my  being.  A 
niat,  bathed  with  tears,  receives  my  body  fatigued  by 
-he  torments  of  my  foul  :  But  dear  fupport  of  my  lite, 
*. ow  light  will  all  thefe  evils  be  to  me,  if  I  can  but  Jearn 
th.at  thou  yet  breatheft. 

In  the  midft  of  this  honible  defolation,  I  Icr.ovv  not  by 
what  happy  chance  I  have  prefer\'ed  my  Quipos.  I  have 
them  in  polleffion,  my  dear  Aza  ;  they  are  the  treafure 
of  m.y  heait,  as  they  ferve  to  interpret  both  thy  love  and 
mine;  the  fame  knots  which  fiiall  infonn  thee  of  ray  ex- 
igence, changing  their  foiTn  under  thy  hands,  will  in- 
ftrucl  me  alfo  in  mydeltiny,  Alas  !  by  what  vvay  fiiall 
I  convey  them  to  thee  ?  By  what  addrefs  can  they  be  re- 
ftored  to  me  again  ?  I  am  ignorant  at  prefent :  but  the 
fdrae  undei-ftanding  which  taught  \is  their  ufe,  will  fug- 
geli  to  us  the  means  to  deceive  our  tyrants.  Whoever 
the  faithful  Chaqui*  may  be  that  fliall  bring  thee  this  pre- 
cious depofit,  I  fhail  envy  his  happinefs.  He  will  lee 
thee,  my  dear  Aza,  and  Iv.'ould  give  all  the  days  allotted 
rr.e  by  the  fun  to  enjoy  thv  prefence  one  moment. 

LETTER  II. 
To  Aza  :     Ivjicry  cf  bcr  fi-'ji  f.gkt oj\  ajui engagement  to 
hi?::. 

MAY  the  tree  of  virtue,  my  dear  Aza,  for  ever  fpread 
its  Ihadow  over  the  pious  citizen  who  received 
Uiidcr  my  window  the  myfterious  tiifue  of  my  thoughts, 
a  ,d  delivered  it  into  tliy  hands.  May  Paca  Camacf  pro- 
long his  years,  as  tiie  recom.pcnfe  ot  his  addrefs  in  con- 
veying to  me  divuie  pleamies  with  thy  anfv/er.  Tiie 
tj  eafures  of  love  aie  open  to'^hne  j  1  draw  from  thence  a 
delicious  joy  that  inebriates  my  foul.  Wiiiie  I  unravel 
the  fecrets  of  thy  heart,  my  own  bathes  irfeil  in  a  fca  cf 
perfumes.  Thou  livelt,  and  the  chains  that  were  to 
unite  us  are  not  broken.  So  much  felicity  was  the  ob- 
ject of  my  dcihes,  but  not  of  my  hopes. 

Whihl  I   abandoned  all  thought  of  myfelf,  my  feais 
*  Msfn-nger.  lor 

•f  The  Creator  Goj,  more  powerful  ihan  the  Sun. 


THE    PERUVIAN    PRIN'CESS.  15 

for  thee  deprived  iv.(^  of  all  pleafure.  Thou  reftoreft  to 
n;e  all  that  I  had  loft.  I  taiiedeep  draughts  of  the  fweet 
fatisfailion  of  pleafing  thee,  of  be'n.g  praifed  by  thee,  of 
being  approved  by  him  I  iov.-'.  But,  dear  Aza,  while 
I  (wim  inthefe  delights,  I  do  not  forget  that  I  owe  to  thee 
what  I  am.  As  the  rofe  draws  his  brilliant  colours  from 
the  rays  of  the  fun,  fo  the  charms  which  pleafe  thee  in 
my  fpirit  and  ientiments  are  the  benefits  of  thy  luminous 
genius  5  nothing  is  mine,  but  my  tendernefs.  If  thou 
hadil  been  an  ordinary  man,  I-  had  remained  in  that  ig- 
norance to  which  my  fex  is  condemned;  but  thou,  not 
the  fiave  of  cuftom,  haft  broken  the  barrier,  in  order  to 
elevate  me  to  thyfelf.  Thou  didfc  not  fulfera  being  like 
thy  own  to  be  confined  to  the  humble  advantage  of  only- 
giving  life  to  thy  poll: erity  :  it  was  thy  pleafure  that  our 
Amutas*  fliould  adorn  my  underftanding  with  their  fub- 
inne  intelligences.  But  O  light  of  my  life,  could  I  have 
refoived  to  abandon  my  tranquil  ignorance,  and  engage 
in  the  painful  occupation  of  frudy,  had  it  not  been  for  the 
defire  of  pleafing  thee  ?  Without  a  defire  to  merit  thy  ef- 
tecm,  thy  confidence,  thy  reipeft ,  by  virtues  that  fortify 
love,  and  which  love  renders  voluptuous,  I  had  been  only 
the  obje6L  of  thy  eyes  ;  abfence  would  already  have  ef- 
faced thee  out  of  my  memory. 

But,  alas  !  if  thou  loved  me  ftlll,  why  am  I  in  flavery  ? 
Cafting  a  look  upon  the  walls  of  my  priibn,  my  joy  dif- 
appears,  honor  feizes  me,  and  my  fears  are  renewed. 
They  have  not  robbed  thee  of  liberty,  yet  thou  comeftnot 
to  my  fuccour :  Thou  haft  been  informed  of  my  fitua- 
tion,  and  it  is  not  changed.  No,  my  dear  Aza,  among 
thcfe  fayage  people,  whom  thou  calleft  Spaniards,  thou 
nrt  not  fo  free  as  thou  imagineft  thyfelf.  I  behold  as 
many  figns  of  ilavery  in  the  honours  which  they  render 
thee,  as  in  my  own  captivity.  Thy  goodnefs  feduces  thee ; 
thou  thinkeft  the  prcmifes,  which  thofe  barbarians  make 
thee  by  their  interpreters,  fincere,  becaufc thy  ov.-n  words 
are  inviolable  ;  but  I,  who  underftand  not  their  language, 
whom  they  think  not  worthy  to  bedecieved,  behold  their 
B  z  adi^ns 

'*  Indian  philofophers. 


l5  THE  PERUVIAN    PRITnCESJ. 

n.ctions~  Thy  luhjefts  rake  them  fcr  gods,  and  join  the> 
part}'.  O  my  deai"  Aza,  wretched  the  people  who  arc 
iletemiined  by  fear !  Extricate  thylelf  from  thy  error,  and 
fuipe6l  the  falle  goodneis  of  thele  rorei^ners.  AbnndoA 
thy  empire,  fmce  the  Incha  Viracocha*  has  predi6l«l  it« 
dellruftion.  Redeem  thy  life  and  thy  liberty  at  the  price 
©f  thy  power,  thy  grandeur,  and  thy  treafures  :  thegitts 
of  nature  alone  will  then  remain  to  thee,  and  our  days 
ihall  pafs  in  fafety.  Rich  in  the  poll'efiion  of  our  hearts, 
great  by  our  virtues,  powerful  by  our  moderation,  we 
fliall  in  a  cottage  enjoy  the  heaven,  the  eaith,  and  our 
mutual  tendernefs.  Thou  wilt  be  more  a  king  in  reign- 
ing over  my  foul,  than  in  doubting  of  the  afteilion  of  a 
people  without  number :  my  fubmilTion  to  thy  will  llraJl 
cauie  thee  to  enjoy,  without  tyranny,  the  undilputed  right 
of-  commanding.  While  I  obey  thee,  I  will  make  thy 
empire  relbund  with  my  joyous  fongs  ;  thy  diademf  ftiall 
be  always  the  work  of  my  hands,  and  thou  (lialt  lofeno- 
tliing  of  royalty  but  the  cares  and  fatigues. 

How  oittn,  dear  foul  of  my  life,  hail  thou  complained 
of  the  duties  cf  thy  rank  ?  How  have  the  ceremonies, 
which  accompanied  thy  vifits,  made  thee  envy  the  lot  of 
thy  fubjefts?  Thy  wiih  was  to  live  for  me  only.  Art 
thou  now  afraid  to  lofe  fo  many  conltraints  ?  Snail  I  be 
no  more  that  Zilia,  v.- horn  tliou  preferredlt  to  thy  em- 
pire ?  I  cannot  entertain  the  thought :  my  heart  is  not 
changed,  and  why  fliould  there  be  a  change  in  thine  ? 

I  love  j  the  fame  Aza  who  reigned  in  my  heart  the 
f.vOi  moment  I  law  him.,  is  for  ever  before  me :  continu- 
ally do  my  thoughts  recal  that  happy  day,  when  thy  fa- 
ther, my  fovereign  lord,  gave  thee  for  the  flift  time  a 
fliare  of  that  power,  rcfervedfor  him  only,  of  entering  the 
inner  pairt  of  the  templcj.     Fancy  lliil  figures  to  me  the 

agreeaWe 
*  Viracocha  w.'s  looked  upon  as  a  God,  and  the  Indians  firmly 
belleye  that  at  his  dcatli  he  predidfed  that  the  Spaniards  fhouli 
ilethrone  one  of  his  uefcendants, 

■f  The  diadem  of  the  Incas  was  a  kind  of  fringe  wrought  hj 
the  virgins  of  the  Sun. 

%  The  reigning  IncA  alone  has  a  right  to  enter  into  the  temple 
of  the  Sun. 


T.'IS    PERUVIAN    PTvINCES?,  17 

agreeable  ipc-^lacle  of  oiir  virgins,  wiio,  being  there  af- 
Iti-nbled,  received  a  nev^  lullre  iVora  the^admirable  ordtr 
that  reigns  among  them  :  ib  m  a  gardtn  we  lee  the  ar- 
mngement  cf  the  iinell  flowers  add  a  brilliancy  to  their 
beauty.  Thou  appearedii  in  the  midll  of  us  like  a  rifing 
lun,  whole  tender  light  prepares  the  lerenity  of  a  fine 
day:  the  fire  of  thy  eyes  ovcripread  our  cheeks  with  the 
bluflies  of  modcfty,  and  our  Iooks  were  held  captive  in 
fweet  ccnfufion  :  thy  eyes,  at  the  lame  time,  lliot  forth 
a  brilliant  joy  j  for  never  before  had  they  niet  *iO  many 
beauties  together.  The  Capa-Inca  was  the  only  man 
v/e  had  till  then  ieen.  Aftonilhment  and  iilence  reigned 
on  every  fide.  I  know  not  whatwere  the  thougiits^of  my 
companions :  but  the  fentiiiients  that  attacked  my  own 
heart,  who  can  exprefs  r  For  the  full  time  I  had  tlie  uni- 
ted fenfe  of  ti'oublc,  inquietude,  and  pleafure.  Ccnfuf- 
ed  vv'ith  the  agitations  of  my  foul,  I  was  going  to  hide  my- 
ielt  from  thy  light :  but  thou  turnedft  thy  Iteps  towai-ds 
me,  and  I  was  retained  by  refpc6t.  Omy  dear  Aza,  the 
remem.brance  of  this  iirit  moment  of  my  happinei's  will 
be  always  dear  to  me.  The  found  of  thy  voice,  like  the 
melodious  chanting  of  our  hymins,  conveyed  into  m.y 
veins  that  foft  tremor,  and  holy  refpect,  which  is  infpu-ed 
by  the  prelence  of  the  divinity. 

Trembling,  difmayed,  my  timidit)^  had  taken  from 
R^.c  even  the  ufe  cf  my  fpeech  ;  but,  em.boldened  at  laft  by 
the  foftneis  of  thy  words,  Idaiea  to  lift  up  my  looks  to- 
T/ards  thee  and  meet  thine.  No,  death  itfelf  fhaii  never 
ctFace  from  my  miemiory  the  tender  movements  of  our 
fouls  at  this  meeting,  and  how  in  an  inftant  they  were 
blended  together.  If  we  could  doubt  of  cur  original, 
my  dear  Aza,  tiiis  glance  of  light  would  have  deftroyed 
our  uncertainty.  What  other  principle,  but  that  of  fire 
could  have  tranfmittetl  betwixt  usthis  lively  intelligence 
of  hearts,  which  was  communicated,  fpread,  and  felt 
v/ilh  an  inexplicable  rapidity  ?  I  v/as  too  ignorant  of 
ihe  effects  of  love,  not  to  be  deceived  by  it.  With  an 
iiinagination  full  cf  the  ilibiime  theolog)'  cf  our  Ciicipa- 
B  t,  tas 


T?  THE  PERUVIAN    PRINCESS, 

tas*,  I  took  the  fire  which  animated  mefor  a  divine  agi- 
tation J  I  thought  the  Sun  had  manitefted  to  me  his  will 
by  thee  his  organ,  that  hechole  me  for  his  leleiled  ipouiel 
1  lighed  in  rapture  : — but  after  thy  departure,  examin- 
ing my  heart,  I  found  there  nothing  but  thy  hnage. 

What  a  change,  my  dear  Aza,  did  thy  pretence  make 
In  me!  All  obje^\s  appeared  to  me  new,  and  itfeemedas 
if  I  now  faw  my  fellow  virgins  the  firil  time.  How  did 
their  beauty  brighten!  I  could  not  bear  their  prefencc, 
but,  retiring  ailde,  gave  way  to  the  anxiety  of  my  foul, 
■VA'hen  one  of  them  came  to  waken  me  out  of  my  reverie, 
by  giving  me  frefh  matter  to  heighten  it:  flie  informed 
me,  that,  being  thy  iiearell:  relation  I  was  dettined  to  be 
thy  wife,  as  foon  as  my  age  would  permit  that  union,  I 
was  ignorant  of  the  laws  of  thy  empire  ;f  but,  after  I  had 
feen  thee,  my  heart  was  too  much  enlightened  not  to  Ivdvz 
the  idea  of  happinefs  in  an  union  with  thee,  far,  how- 
<-ver,  from  knowing  the  whole  extent  of  this  union,  an  J 
accullomed  to  tlie  i'acred  name  of  Spoufe  ot  the  Sun,  mr 
hopes  were  bounded  to  the  feeing  of  thee  daily,  the  a- 
clorning  of  thee,  and  offering  my  vows  to  thee,  as  to  thai 
uivinity.  Thou,  my  amiable  Aza,  thou  thyfdf  filled^ 
up  the  meafure  of  my  delight,  by  mfoiming  me  that  tUc 
auguft  rank  of  thy  v.fife  would  aJfociate  mc  to  thy  heai-t, 
to  thy  throne,  to  thy  glory,  to  thy  virtues  i  that  I 
lliould  incelTantly  enjoy  thole  lb  precious  convcrlations, 
thol'c  converfations  lo  flioit  in  proportion  to  cur  ^ic- 
ilres,  which  would  adorn  rnv  mind  with  the  perfcclious 
of  thy  foul,  and  add  to  my  felicity  the  delicious  ho}.^  c* 
being  hereafter  a  happineis  to  thee.  O  my  deai-  A/a, 
how  flattering  to  my  heait  wai  that  impatience  of  thine, 
lb  often  exprclled  on  account  or  my  vouth,  which  retard- 
ed our  union  !  How  long  did  the  ccurfecf  two  yeajs ap- 
pear to  thee,  and  yet  how  ihort  was  their  duration  !  A!a>? 
the  fortunate  moment  was  arrived  •   VVhat  fatality  reiv- 

derc<l 

*  PvieftsoftheSun. 

■f  The  laws  of  th- Indians  obliged  the  Incn?  to  marry  their 
fibers ;  and  when  they  hud  none,  ro  take  the  firft  prince! i  ortfic 
bicod  of  the  Inc3s  that  was  a  vjic:inut  the  isun. 


THE    rERUVIA.V    PRINCESS.  I^ 

♦Icred  it  woeful  ?  What  God  was  it  who  punifhed  Inno  • 
cence  and  virtue  in  this  manner  ?  or,  what  infemal  pcwtr 
ieparated  us  fromourfelves  ?  Horror  leizes  me, — my  heart 
is  rent, — my  tears  bedew  mv  work.  Aza!  mydear  Aza! 

LETTER  III. 

To  Aza  :  her  being  put  on  jhip -hoards  ficknefs^  and  cap-^ 

ture  by  tke  French. 

IT  is  thou,  dear  light  of  my  foul,  it  is  thou  who  calleft 
me  back  to  life.  Would  I  preferve  it,  if  I  was  not 
i'ure  that  death,  by  a  fmgle  llroke,  would  mow  down  thy 
days  and  mine  ?  I  touched  the  moment  in  which  the  fpark 
of  divine  fire,  wherc.vith  the  fun  animates  our  being,  was 
going  to  expire.  Laborious  naturcwas  already  preparing 
to  give  another  form  to  that  portion  of  matter  which  be- 
longed to  her  in  me  :  I  was  dying  :  thou  waft  lofmg  for- 
ever half  of  thyielf,  when  my  love  reftored  my  life,  which 
I  now  facrifice  to  thee.  But  how  can  I  inform  thee  of 
the  furprifmg  things  that  have  happened  to  me?  How 
fhall  I  call  back  ideas  that  wei-e  confufed  even  when  I 
received  them,  and  which  the  time  that  is  fmce  paffcd  ren- 
ders ll-ill  lefs  intelligible  ? 

Scarcely,  my  ilear  Aza,  had  I  entmftcd  our  faithful 
Chaqui  with  the  lafttilTue  of  my  t^houghts,  when  I  heard 
tt.  great  motion  in  our  habitation  :  about  midnight  two  of 
itiy  ravifliers  came  to  hurry  me  out  of  my  gloomy  retreat, 
with  as  much  violence  as  they  had  employed  intiiatching 
nie  from  the  temple  ot  the  Sun.  Though  the  night  was  very 
tl;u-k,  they  made  me  travel  lb  fai-,  that,  finking  under  the 
fatigiie,  they  were  obliged  to  carry  me  intoahoufe,  which 
I  could  perceive,  notwithllandmg  the  obfcurity,  it  was 
exceeding  ciithcult  to  get  into.  I  was  thruil  into  a  place 
more  ftrait  and  inconvenient  than  my  prifon  had  been. 
Ah,  my  dear  Aza !  could  I  periiiade  thee  of  what  I  do 
not  comprehend  myfelf,  if  thou  wert  not  alTured  that  ^ 
lie  never  luUied  the  lips  of  a  child  of  the  Sun  ?* 

This  houfc,  which  I  judged  to  be  very  great  by  the 
q'.iantity  of  people  it  contained,  was  not  fixed  \o  the 
ground,  but  being  as  it  were  fufpended,  kept  in  a  con- 

.  tinuaily 
*  It  pauws  icr  certain  that  no  Peruvian  cvirr  lied. 


ao  THE    PER-UVIAN    PRINCESS, 

tinual  balancing  motion.  O  light  oi'  my  mind,  Tical- 
vlracccha  fhould  have  filled  nny  Icul  like  thine  with  his 
divine  fcience,  to  have  enabled  me  to  comprehend  this 
prodigy.  All  that  I  know  of  it  is,  that  this  dwelling 
was  not  built  by  a  being  friendly  to  mankind:  for  feme 
moments  after  I  had  entered  it,  the  continual  motion  of 
it,  joined  to  a  noxious  fmell,  made  me  fo  violently  ill,  that 
I  am  furprifed  I  did  not  die  of  the  malady.  This  was 
the  beginning  only  of  my  pains. 

A  pretty  long  time  paded,  and  I  had  no  confiderable 
fuifering,  when  one  morning  I  was  frighted  out  of  fleep 
by  a  noife  more  hideous  than  that  of  Yalpa.  Our  habi- 
tation i-eceived  fuch  fnocks  as  the  earth  will  experience, 
when  the  ir.ocn  by  her  fall  fhali  reduce  the  univerle  t  o  duft*. 
The  cries  of  human  voices,  joined  to  this  wild  uproar, 
rendered  it  ftill  more  frightful.  My  fenfes  feized  with  a 
Tecret  hon-or,  conveyed  to  m.y  foul  nothing  but  the  idea 
of  defrmclion,  not  of  myftlf  only,  but  of  all  nature.  J 
thought  the  peril  univerfal  j  I  trembled  for  thv  life  :  my 
dread  grew  at  iaft  to  the  utmoif  excefs,  when  I  law  a  com- 
pany of  men  in  fury,  with  bloody  countenances  and 
cloaths,  rufli  tumultucufly  into  my  chamber.  I  could  not 
fupport  the  terrible  fpeclacle;  m.y  llrength  and  undcrftand- 
ing  left  me :  ilill  am  I  ignorant  cf  the  confequence  of  this 
terrible  event.  But  when  I  recovered,  I  found  myi'di 
in  a  pretty  handfome  bed,  furrounded  by  feveral  favagesy 
who  were  not,  however,  any  of  the  cruel  Spaniards. 

Canit  thou  Imag  ne  to  thylelf  my  furprife,  when  I  found 
myfelf  in  a  new  dv/eiling,  among  new  men,  without  be- 
ing able  to  comprehend  hov/  this  change  could  be  brought 
about  ?  1  flmt  my  eyes,  the  better  to  recoiled  myl'L-it, 
and  be  alTured  whetiier  I  was  alive,  or  wheiher  juy  foul 
had  not  quitted  my  body  to  pals  into  uiiknoum  regionsf . 
I  confeis  to  thee,  dear  idol  of  my  heart,  that,  fatigued 

wit]  I 
*  The  Indians  believe  that  the  end  of  the  world  wUi  be  brought 
about  by  the  fail  of  the  moon  upon  the  e.'.ith. 

•f  The  Indians  believe  that  the  foul,  after  death,  goes  into  uir- 
knovvn  places,  to  be  there  recompenibd  or  puniihed  according  to 
ki  delcrts. 


T\1E    PERUVIAN    fRIVCES".  ?» 

vrith  an  odious  life,  diflieartened  at  liitFeilng toiments  of 
evtry  kind,  prcile  J  down  under  the  weight  of  my  horrible 
dcitinvj  I  regarded  with  indifference  the  end  of  niy  being, 
•v'iiich  I  felt  approaching :  I  conftantly  refufed  all  theful- 
tenance  that  was  offered  me,  and  in  a  few  days  was  on 
the  verge  of  the  fatal  term,  which  I  bel>eld  without  regret. 
The  decay  of  my  llrength  annihilated  mv  fen ^;ments  : 
already  my  enfeebled  imagination  received  no  images  but 
liice  thofe  of  a  llight  def:gn  traced  by  a  trembling  hand  j 
already  the  objects  which  had  mofi:  affected  me,  excited 
in  nie  only  that  vague  fenfation  which  we  feel  when  we 
indulge  to  an  indeterminate  reverie :  almoft  I  was  no  more. 
This  itate,  my  dear  Aza,  is^  not  fo  uneafy  as  it  is  thought. 
At  a  diftance  it  frightens  as,  becaulewe  think  of  It  with 
all  our  powers :  when  it  is  arrived,  enfeebled  by  the  gra- 
dations of  pain  which  condu6l  us  to  it>  the  decifive  mo- 
ment appears-  only  as  the  moment  of  repofe.  A  natural 
propenfity  which  carries  us  towards  futurity,  even  that 
futurity  vAnch  will  never  exift  for  us,  reanimated  my 
ipirir,  and  tranfported  it  into  thy  palace.  I  thought 
I  arrived  there  at  the  inftant  when  tliou  hadlf  received 
the  news  of  my  death.  I  repreiented  to  myfelf  thy  pale 
disfigured  image,  fuch  as  lily  appears  when  fcorched  by 
the  burning  heat  of  nocn.  Is  the  moft  tender  love  then 
fometimes  barbarous  ?  I  rejoiced  at  thy  grief,  and  ex- 
cited it  by  forrowful  adieus.  I  found  a  Iweetnefs,  per- 
haps a  pleaiure,  in  diffufmr  the  poifon  of  regret  over  thy 
days  J  and  the  lame  love  which  rendered  me  ci  uel,  tore  my 
heart  by  tlie  horror  of  thy  pains.  At  laff,  awakened  as 
from  a  profciin  I  lleep,  penetrated  v/ith  thy  agony,  trem- 
bling for  thy  life,  I  called  for  help,  aud  again  beheld 
the  light. 

Sliall  I  fee  thee  again,  thou,  the  dear  arbiter  of  my 
fcxiltence  =  Alaa !  who  can  affure  me  of  it.  I  know  not 
where  I  am:  perhaps  it  is  far  liiftant  from  thee  !  But 
Should  we  be  feparated  by  the  immenfe  I'paces  inliabited 
by  the  children  of  the  Sun,  the  light  cloud  of  my  thoughts 
ib'ail  hover  mccliantly  about  the\;.  LETTER 


%%  THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS. 

LETTER  IV. 

To  AzA  :  account  of  her  treaUnent  during  her  f.cknefs, 

WHATEVER  the  love  of  life  be,  my  dear  Aza, 
pains  diminifh,  defpair  extinguiflies  it.  The 
contempt  in  which  nature  feems  to  hold  cur  being,  by 
abandoning  it  to  defpair,  fliocks  us  at  firft :  afterward.s, 
the  impofTibility  of  working  our  deliverance  proves  fuch 
an  humblijng  circumftance,  that  it  leads  us  to  a  difguft 
of  ourfelves.  I  live  no  longer  in,  nor  for,  rcyfelf:  every 
inftant  in  v/hich  I  breathe,  is  a  facrifice  which  I  make  to 
thy  love,  and  from  day  to  day  it  becomes  more  paini'ul. 
If  time  bring  fome  folace  to  the  ills  that  conllimeme,  far 
from  clearing  up  my  prefent  condition,  it  feems  to  render 
it  more  obfcure.  All  that  furrounds  me  is  unknown, 
all  is  new,  all  engages  my  curiofity,  and  nothing  can 
fatisfy  it.  In  vain  I  employ  my  attention  and  etforts 
to  underftand  or  be  underlloc-d  5  both  are  equally  im- 
pofTible  to  me.  Wearied  with  fo  many  fniitlefs  pains, 
I  thought  to  dry  up  the  fource  of  them,  by  depriv- 
ing my  eyes  of  the  imprefiions  they  receive  trom  ob- 
je6ts.  I  perfifted  for  fome  time  in  keeping  them  fliut : 
but  the  voluntary  darknefs,  to  which  I  condemned  my- 
felf,  ferved  only  to  relieve  my  modefty :  offended  conti- 
nually at  the  prelenceof  thefe  m.en,  whofe  officious  kind- 
neffes  are  fo  m.any  torments,  my  foul  was  not  the  \ers 
agitated  :  flnitup  inmyfelf,  my  inquietudes  were  not  t  he 
lefs  fliarp,  and  the  defire  to  expreis  thtm  was  the  more 
violent.  On  the  other  hand,  the  impofilbility  of  making 
myfelf  underftood,  fpread  an  anguiJh  over  my  organs , 
which  is  not  lefs  infupportable  than  the  pains  which  a  m.ore 
apparent  reality  would  caufe.  How  cruel  is  this  litua- 
ticn!  Alas  !  I  thought  I  had  begun  to  underftand  fcn;e 
words  of  the  lavage  Spaniards  j  I  found  feme  agreement 
with  our  auguft  language  ;  I  Mattered  myl'elf  that  in  a 
fliort  time  I  fhould  ccme  to  explain  mylelf  with  them. 
Far  from  finding  the  famie  advantage  :;mong  my  new  ty- 
rants, they  exprds  themftlves  wilh  fo  much  i-apidity  that 
I  cannot  even  diftinguifli  the  inflexions  of  their  voice.  Al 
circumitances  make  me  jv.dge  that  they  are  net  of  ihe 

fame 


THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS.  23 

',r.-Jie  nation ;  and  by  the  difference  of  their  manners  and 
apparent  character,  one  eailly  divines  that  Pachacamac 
lus  diib-ibutcd  to  them  in  great  diiproportion  the  elements 
cl;' which  he  i'ormed  human  kind.  The  grave  and  fierce 
air  of  the  firll  ihevvs  that  they  are  compoled  of  the  fame 
matter  as  the  hardeft metals.  Thefe  ieem  to  have  flipped 
cur  of  the  hands  of  the  creator  the  moment  he  had  col- 
lc6f  ec  together  only  air  and  fire  for  their  formation.  The 
fcornfui  eyes,  the  gloomy  and  tranquil  mein  of  the  former, 
diewed  fufficiently  tliat  they  were  cruel  in  cold  blood ; 
which  theinhumanity  of  theiractions  has  too  well  proved. 
The  fmiling  countenance  of  the  latter,  the  fweetnefs  of 
their  lock;,  a  certain  hafte  in  all  their  actions,  which 
ftems  to  be  a  haiie  of  good-v/ill,  prevents  me  in  their 
favour,  but  I  remark  contradi61:ions  in  their  conduct 
which  fufpends  my  judgment.  Two  of  thefe  favages 
fcldora  quit  the  fides  of  my  bed  :  one,  which  I  g^aefs  to 
be  the  Cacique*  by  his  air  of  grandeur,  feems  to  fliew 
ine  in  his  way,  a  great  deal  of  reipeft  :  the  ether  gives 
me  part  of  the  aflilLance  which  my  malady  requires  ;  but 
his  goodnefs  is  fevere,  his  fuccours  arc  ci-utl,  and  his  fa- 
miliarity imperious. 

The  mom.ent  when,  recovered  from  my  fit,  I  found 
myi'elf  in  their  power,  this  latter  (for  I  have  obferved 
h-.m  well)  more  bold  than  the  rell,  would  take  me  by  the 
hand,  which  I  drew  away  with  inexprelTible  confufion. 
Ke^  iecmed  to  be  furprifed  at  my  refiftance,  and  without 
any  regard  to  my  niodelty,  took  hold  of  it  again  imme- 
diately. Feeble,  dying,  and  fpeaking  only  fuch  words - 
as  were  not  underitcod,  cculd  I  hinder  Ifim  ?  Ke  held  it, 
my  dear  Aza,  as  long  as  he  thought  proper  j  and  fines 
that  time,  I  am  obliged  to  give  it  him  myfelffeveral  times 
every  day,  in  order  to  avoid  fuchdifputes  as  always  turn 
to  my  difadvantage.  This  kind  of  cerem.onyf  I'eems  to 
me  a  fupcrftition  of  thefe  people  :  they  im.agine  they  find 
fomtth.ing  there  which  indicates  the  nature  of  a  diltemper  j 
but  it  muit  doubtiefs  be  their  own. nation  that  feel  the 

effeds 
*  Cacique  is  a  kind  of  governor  of  a  province, 
f  The  Indians  have  no  knowledge  of  phy fie. 


^4  THE    PERUVIAN    PRIKCESS. 

effects  of  It  J  for  I  perceive  none  j  I  fufter  contlmnlly  by 
an  inward  fire  that  coniumes  me,  and  have  -caice  llrcngth 
enough  Icfc  to  knot  my  Qi^iipos.  In  this  occuprition  I 
employ  as  much  time  as  myweakaefsv^ill  permit  me:  the 
knots,  which  ifrike  my  fenfes,  feem  to  give  more  reality 
to  my  thoughts  ;  the  kind  of  refemblancc  which  I  imagir^; 
they  have  with  words,  caufts  an  iLlulion  which  deceives 
my  pain;  1  think  I  Ipeak  to  thee,  tell  thee  of  my  love, 
aflTure  thee  of  my  vows  and' my  tendcmei's :  the  fweeterjor 
is  my  fupport,  and  my  life.  If  the  exccfs  of  my  burthen 
obliges  me  to  interrupt  my  work,  I  groan  at  thy  abfencc. 
Given  up  thus  intirejy  to  my  tendeniefs,  there  is  rtot  one 
of  my  moments  which  belongs  not  to  tJice. 

Alas !  what  othe«-  ule  can  I  make  of  them  ?  O  my 
dear  Aza !  if  thou  wert  not  the  mafter  of  my  foul ;  if  the 
chclnsof  love  did  not  bind  me  inJeparably  to  theej  plunged 
in  an  ibyis  of  obl'curity,  could  I  turn  wty  thoughts  awiy 
from  the  light  of  my  life  ?  Thou  art  t  lie  inn  of  my  days  j 
thou  enlightencit  them  ;  thou  prclongeit  them,  and  they 
are  thine.  Thou  chtrifhcll  me,  and  I  fuifer  myfeif  to 
live.  What  wilt  thou  do  for  me  ?  Thou  lovcft  mc,  and 
I  have  my  reward. 

LETTER  V. 

To  Aza  :  //:e  dcfcribts  the  i}tbai'icur  cf  the Frefich captclu 

and  ku  crezv. 

WHAT  have  I  fuffered,  my  dear  Aza,  fmce  I  con- 
lecrated  to  thee  my  laft  knots  !  The  lofs  of  my 
Quipos  was  yei  wanting  to  complete  my  pains  :  i>ut  when 
my  officious  perfecutors  perceived  that  work  to  augment 
niy  dilbrder,  they  depiivcd  m.e  of  theufe  of  them. 

At  lalt  they  have  reltorcd  uomethe  trcafureofmy  ten- 
dtrnels  j  but  with  many  teais  did  I  purchale  it.  Only 
this  exprclncn  'of  my  fcntimcnts  had  I  remaining,  the 
mere  Ibrrowful  conioiation  or  painting  my  grief  to  thee  : 
and  could  J  lofe  it,  and  not  deipair?  My  ihangedelfiny 
has  iiiatched  from  me  even  the  relief  wli.ch  the  uidiappy 
iiivl  in  fpcakingof  their  pains.  One  is  apt  to  think  there 
L>  pity  when  one  is  licard,  and  from  the  participation  of 
ibnow  ari.cs  iome  ccmfort ;  I  ciiinot  jv.ake  my kif  under- 

ftOLd 


THE    PERUVIAN    TRINCESS.  15 

ilood,  and  am  luiTotinded  with  gaiety.  I  cannot  cvei^ 
irnjoy  that  new  kind  of  entertainment  to  which  the  inabi- 
lity of  communicating  my  thoughts  reduces  me.  Envi- 
roned with  importunate  perions,  whofe  attentive  looks 
difturb  the  compofed  folicitude  of  my  foul,  I  forget  the 
faired  prefent  which  nature  has  made  us,  the  power  to 
render  our  ideas  impenetrable  without  the  concurrence  of 
our  will.  I  am  fometimes  afraid  that  thefe  curious  iava- 
ges  difcover  the  difadvantageous  refieft Ions  with  which  I 
am  infpired  by  the  oddnefs  of  their  conduct. 

One  moment  deftroys  the  opinion  whi^h  another  had 
given  me  of  their  charafter :  for  if  I  am  I'wayed  by  the  fre- 
quent oppofition  of  their  wills  to  mine,  I  cannot  doubt 
hut  they  believe  me  their  flave,  and  that  their  power  is 
t)rannical.  Not  to  reckon  up  an  infinite  number  ot  other 
contradictions,  they  refiife  me,  my  dear  Aza,  even  the 
neceflar)'  ahments  lorthefuftenanceof  life,  and  the  liberty 
of  chufing  what  place  I  would  lie  in  :  they  keep  me,  by 
a  kind  ot  violence,  in  the  bed,  which  is  become  infup- 
portable  to  me.  On  the  other  fide,  if  I  reflect  on  the 
extreme  concern  they  have  fhewn  for  the  prefervation  of 
my  days,  and  the  reipeft  with  which  the  fcrvices  they  ren- 
der me  are  accompanied,  I  am  tempted  to  believe  that 
they  take  me  for  a  fpecies  fuperior  to  human  kind.  Not 
one  of  them  appeaxs  before  me  without  bending  hislDody, 
more  or  lefs,  as  we  ufed  to  do  in  v/orfliipping  the  Suh. 
The  Cacique  feems  to  attempt  to  imitate  the  ceremoniiil 
of  the  Incas  on  the  days  of  Raymi*:  he  kneels  down  very 
nigh  my  bed-fide,  and  continues  a  conlidcrable  time  in 
that  painful  poflure  :  fometimes  he  keeps  fiient,  and,  with 
his  eyes  caft  down,  fceras  to  think  profoundly  :  I  fee  in 
his  countenance  that  refpeclful  confufion  which  the  great 
namcf  inipires  us  with  v^'hen  fpcken  aloud.  If  he  finds 
an  opportunity  of  taKing  held  of  my  hand,  he  puts  his 
mouth  to  it  With  the  fame  veneration  that  we  have  for  the 

*  The  Raymi  was  theprincip;il  teaft  of  the  Sun,  when  the  Incas. 
anJ  prielc  adored  him  on  their  knees. 

f  1  he  great  name  was  Pachacamas,  which  they  fpcke  but  fel- 
jjoi,  and  always  wilh  ^re.it%ns  of  adoiation.        '  ii.G\xd 


i6  THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS. 

facred  diadem*.  Sometimes  he  utters  a  great  number 
of  words,  which  are  not  at  all  liice  the  ordinary  language 
of  his  nation:  the  found  of  them  is  more  foft,  moredif- 
tinct,  and  more  harmonious.  He  joins  to  this  that  air 
of  concern  which  is  the  forerunner  of  teai^s,  thoie  fighs 
which  expreis  the  neceiiities  of  the  foul,  the  mod  plain- 
tive action,  and  ail  that  ufually  accompanies  the  deilreof 
obtaining  favours  !  Alas  !  my  dear  Aza,  if  he  knew; 
me  well,  if  he  was  not  in  ibme  error  with  regard  to  my 
being,  what  prayer  could  he  have  to  addrefs  to  me  ? " 

Muft  they  not  be  an  idolatrous  nation  ?  I  have  not- 
yet  feen  any  adoration  paid  by  them  to  the  Sun:  perhaps 
they  make  women  the  obje£l  of  theh-  worfliip.  Before 
the  great  Manco-capacf  brought  down  to  earth  the  will 
of  the  Sun,  our  anceilors  deified  whatever  ftrack  them 
with  dread  or  pleafure ;  perhaps  thele  favages  feel  thefe 
two  fentiments  with  regard  to  women.  But  if  they  adore 
me,  would  they  add  to  my  misfortunes  tlie  hideous  con- 
ftraint  in  which  they  keep  me?  No;  they  would  endeavour 
to  pleafe  me  ;  they  would  obey  the  tokens  of  my  will : 
I  fliould  be  free,  and  releafed  from  this  odious  habitation : 
I  Ihould  go  in  fearch  of  the  mailer  of  my  foul,  one  of 
whofe  looks  would  efface  the  memory  of  all  thtfe  mis- 
fortunes. 

LETTER  VI. 
To  Aza  :   /J;e  dif^orja-j  --where  /he  is  5  her  defpair  on  the 
occajion. 

WHAT  an  horrible  furprife,  my  dear  Aza!  how  art 
our  woes  augmented !  how  deplorabie  is  our  con- 
dition !  our  evils  are  without  remedy  :  I  have  only  to  tell 
thee  of  them,  and  to  die.  At  laft  they  have  permitted 
me  to  get  up,  and  with  hafte  I  availed  myfelf,  of  the  li- 
berty. I  drew  myfelf  to  a  linall  window,  which  I  opened 
witli  all  the  precipitation  that  my  curionty  infpired. — 
W'.hat  did  I  fee?  Dear  love  of  my  life,  I  lliall  not  find 
cxor.^fTions  to  paint  the  excefs  of  my  aftonifhment,  and 

the 
*  They  kifled  the  diadem  of  Mancocapac  in  the  fame  m^mer  a5 
•he  Roman  CathoUcs  kifs  the  relics  of  their  faints. 
t  The  firft  Lcgillator  of  the  Indians.    &<:  ik(  kljiuy  of  the  Ircas, 


THE    ?ERUAIAN    PRINCELS.  27 

the  incurable  delpp-lr  that  feized  me,  when  T  difcovered 
round  me  ncthhigbut  that  terrible  element,  the  very  light 
of  which  makes  me  tremble.  My  firft  glance  did  but  too 
Weil  inform  me  what  occafioned  the  troublefome  motion 
of  our  dwelling.  I  am.  in  one  of  thofe  floating  houfes 
which  the  Spaniards  made  uieof  to  arrive  at  ourunliappy 
countries,  and  of  which  a  very  imperfeft  defcrlption  had 
been  given  me.  Conceive  my  dear  Aza,  what  dilmal 
ideas  entered  my  foul  with  this  fatal  knowledge.  I  z.m 
certain  that  tb.ey  are  carrying  me  from  thee  :  I  breathe 
no  more  the  fame  air,  nor  do  I  inhabit  the  fame  elem.er.t. 
Thou  wilt  ever  be  ignoraat  where  I  am,  whether  I  love 
thee,  whtther  I  exilt  j  even  the  diffolution  of  my  being- 
will  not  appear  an  event  coniiderable  enough  to  be  con- 
veyed to  thee.  Dear  arbiter  of  my  days,  of  what  value 
will  my  life  be  to  thee  hereafter  r  Pemnlt  m,e  to  render  to 
the  ^divinity  an  infupportabie  benefit,  which  I  can  no 
m.ore  enjoy:  I  fliall  not  fee  thee  again,  and  I  v.-ill  live  no 
longc^r.  In  lofmg  what  I  love,  the  univerfe  is  am-.ihi- 
iated  to  me  :  it  is  now  nothing  but  a  vaA  defart,  which 
I  fill  with  the  cries  of  my  love.  Hear  them,  dear  objeft 
of  my  tendciTiefs  j  be  touched  with  them,  and  fuffer  me 
to  die  ! 

What  error  feduces  me  ?  my  dear  Aza,  it  is  not  thou 
that  makeftme  live:  it  is  timid  Nature,  which  ihudder- 
ing  with  honxr,  lends  this  voice,  more  powerful  than 
its  own,  to  retard  an  end  which  to  her  is  always  formi- 
dable : — but  it  is  over  j — tiie  moil  ready  means  fliall  de- 
liver me  from  her  regrets. — Let  the  fea  for  ever  fvvallow 
up  in  its  waves  my  unhappy  tendernefs,  my  life,  and  my 

defpair Receive,    moft  unfortunate  Aza,    receive  the 

lafv  fentiments  of  my  heart,  which  never  admitted  but 
thy  im.age,  was  willing  to  live  but  for  thee,  and  dies  full 
of  thy  love.  I  love  thee,  I  think  it,  I  feel  it  Hill,  and 
I  tell  it  thee  for  the  laic  time. — 

LETTER  VII. 
To  Aza  :  f^c  repents  of  her  defperate  furpofe , 

AZA,  thou  half   not  loft  all :    I  breathe,  and  thou 
reigneft  iUii  in  one  heart.     The  vigilance  of  thofe 
C    a  who 


r%  THE    1>ERUV1AN   PRINCESS, 

who  watch  me  defeated  my  fatal  defign,  and  I  haveonlf 
the  fhame  left  of  having  attempted  its  execution.  It  would 
be  too  long  to  inform  thee  of  the  circumltances  of  an  en- 
terpiize  that  failed  as  foon  as  it  was  proje6led.  Should 
i  have  dared  ever  to  lift  up  my  eyes  to  thee.  If  thou  had 
been  a  wltnefs  of  my  paffion  ?  My  reafon,  fubjet^ed  to 
delpair,  was  no  longer  a  faccour  to  me :  my  life  feenied 
to  me  worth  nothing  :   I  had  forgot  thy  love. 

How  cruel  is  a  cool  temper  after  fury  !  how  different 
are  the  points  of  fight  on  the  fame  objeft !  In  the  horror 
of  defpair  ferocity  is  taken  for  courage,  and  the  fear  of 
fuffering  for  firmnefs  of  mind.  Let  a  look,  a  furprife 
call  us  back  to  ourfelves,  and  we  find  that  weaknefs  only 
was  the  principle  of  our  heroifm  ;  that  repentance  is  the 
fruit  of  it,  and  contenipt  the  recompenfe.  The  know- 
ledge of  my  fault  is  the  moft  fevere  punifhment  of  it. — 
Abandoned  to  the  bitterncfs  of  repentance,  buried  under 
the  veil  of  fhame,  I  hold  myfelf  at  a  diltance,  and  fear 
"  that  my  body  occupies  too  much  fpace  :  I  would  hide  it 
from  the  light :  my  tears  flow  in  abundance ;  my  grief 
is  calm,  not  a  figh  expires,  though  I  am  quite  given  up 
to  it.  Can  I  do  too  much  to  expiate  my  crime  ?  it  was 
agalnft  thee.  In  vain,  for  two  days  together,  thefe  be- 
neficent favages  have  endeavoured  to  make  me  a  partaker 
of  the  joy  that  tranfports  them.  I  am  in  continual  doubt 
what  can  be  the  caufe  of  this  joy  }  but,  even  if  I  knew 
it  better,  I  ihould  not  think  myfelf  worthy  to  fliare  in 
their  iellivals.  Their  dances,  their  jovial  exclamations, 
a  red  liquor  like  mays,*  of  which  they  drink  abundantly, 
their  eagerneis  to  view  the  fun  whenever  they  can  perceive 
4iim,  would  fully  convince  me  that  their  rejoicings  vvere 
in  honour  of  that  divine  luminary,  if  the  conduft  of  the 
Cacique  was  conformable  to  that  of  the  reft. 

But,  far  from  taking  part  in  the  public  joy,  fince  the 
fault  1  committed,  he  interefts  himfeif  only  in  my  foiTow. 

His 

*  Mays  is  a  plant  whereof  the  Indians  make  a  very  ftrong  and 
falutary  drink,  "  hich  they  offer  to  the  Sun  on  feftival  days,  and 
jet  drunk  vrich  after  the  lacrifice  is  over.     Sa  Hijiory  eftbc  Ir.cai. 


%. 


01.  11. 


THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS.  29 

His  zeal  is  more  relpeftful,  his  cares  are  more  afliduous, 
and  his  attention  is  moreexa6l  and  curious.  He  under- 
ftoodthat  the  continual  preience  of-  the  lavages  of  his  train 
about  me,  was  an  addition  to'my  affliftionj  he  has  deli- 
vered me  from  their  troublefome  officioufnels,  and  I  haA"C 
now  fcarcely  any  hut  his  to  fupport. 

Would  ft  thou  believe  it,  mydcarAza,  there  are  fcm.c 
moments  in  v.hich  I  feel  a  kind  of  fweetnefs  inthele  mute 
dialogues  5  the  lire  of  his  eyes  recals  to  my  mind  the 
image  of  that  which  I  have  feen  in  thine :  the  fimilitudc 
is  iuch  that  it  feduces  my  heart.  Alas  that  this  iilulion 
is  tranfient,  and  that  the  regrets  which  follow  it  are  du- 
rable !  they  will  end  only  with  my  life,  fince  I  live  for 
thee  alone, 

LETTER  VIII. 
To  AzA  :  Jhe  is  Jhevjn  the  land. 

WHEN  a  fingle  objefl  unites  all  our  thoughts,  my 
dear  Aza,  we^  intereft  ourfelves  no  farther  in 
events  than  as  we  find  them  aiTirailated  to  cur  own  cafe. 
If  thou  waft  not  the  only  mover  of  my  foul,  could  I  have 
pafted,  as  I  have  juft  done,  from  the  horror  of  defpair  to 
the  moft  flattering  hope  ?  The  Cacique  had  before  ieveral 
timts  in  vain  attempted  to  entice  me  to  that  window, 
which  I  now  cannot  lock  at  without  fr.uddering.  A» 
laft,  prevailed  on  by  freili  foli- itations,  I  fuffered  myfei 
to  be  conduced  to  it.  Oh,  my  dear  Aza,  how  well  wai 
I  recon-.penfcd  for  my  complaifance  !  By  an  incompre- 
henfible  miracle,  in  making  me  look  through  a  kind  o. 
hollow  cane,  he  fhewed  me  the  earth  at  a diftance  5  whereas/ 
without  the  help  of  this  wonderful  n  machine,  my  eyes  coulo 
not  have  reached  it.  At  the  lUme  time,  he  made  me  un- 
derftand  by  ligns,  (which  begin  to  grew  tamiliar  to  me) 
that  vvt  were  going  to  that  land,  and  th.at  the  fight  of  i^ 
v,as  the  only  caufe  of  thofe  rejoicings  which  I  took  for  2, 
facrifice  to  the  fun.  I  was  immediately  knfible  of  ail  the 
bt-nefit  of  thisdifcovery  :  Hope,  like  a  ray  of  light,  glanced 
directly  to  the  bottom  of  my  heart. 

They  are  certainly  carrying m.e  to  this  land  wlilch  they 
have  fliewn  me,  ana  which  ib  evidently  a  part  of  thy  etri 
C   3  pi'c, 


^O  THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS, 

pile,  fiike  the  llin  there  ftieds  his  beneficent  rays.*  I 
am  no  longer  in  the  fetters  of  the  cruel  Spaniards  :  Who 
then  fhall  hinder  my  returning  under  thy  laws  ?  Yes,  my 
dear  Aza,  I  go  to  be  reunited  to  what  I  love  :  my  love, 
my  realbn,  my  defires,  all  affure  me  of  it.  I  fly  into 
thy  anns ;  a  torrent  of  joy  oveiflows  my  foul ;  the  paft 
is  vanifhed  j  my  misfortunes  are  ended,  they  are  forgot- 
ten:  Futurity  alone  employs  me,  and  is  my  fole  good. 

Aza,  my  dear  hope,  I  have  not  loft  thee  ;  I  fliall  lee 
thy  countenance,  thy  robes,  thy  fliadow,  I  fliall  love 
thee,  and  tell  thee  of  it  v/ith  my  own  mouth  :  Can  any 
torments  efface  iuch  a  felicity? 

LETTER  IX, 

To  A  7.  A:  Jhe  learns  fame  French  names  ^  and  repeats  other 

'^i.vordSf  --vithoiU  knox'jwg  their  nieanmg. 

HOW  long  are  the  days,  rny  dear  Aza,  Vv^hen  one  com- 
putes their  paflage  !  Time,  like  fpace,  is  known 
only  by  its  limits.  Our  hopes  feem  to  me  the  hopes  of 
time;  if  they  quit  us,  or  are  not  dillin6fly  marked,  we 
perceive  no  more  of  their  duration  than  ot  the  air  which 
fills  the  vaft  expani'e.  Ever  fince  the  fatal  inft ant  of  our 
reparation,  my  heart  and  ibul,  worn  with  misfortune, 
continued  funk  in  that  total  abfence,  that  oblivion  which 
is  the  horror  of  nature,  the  image  of  nothing :  The  days 
palled  away  without  my  regarding  them,  for  not  a  hope 
fixed  my  attention  to  their  length.  But  hope  now  marks 
every  inftant  of  them  ;  their  duration  feems  to  me  infinite ; 
and  what  furpriles  me  moft  of  all  is,  that,  in  recovering 
the  tranquillity  of  my  fpirit,  I  recover  at  the  fame  time 
a  facility  of  thinking.  Since  ]ny  imagination  has  been 
opened  to  joy,  a  crowd  of  thoughts  preient  themfelvesj 
.and  employ  it  even  to  fatigue  :  Proje6ls  of  pleafure  and 
happinefs  fucceed  one  another  alternately  ;  new  ideas  find 
an  eafy  reception,  and  Ibme  are  even  imprinted  without 
my  iearch,  and  before  I  perceive  it.  Within  thsfe  two 
days  I  underlland  (eveial  words  of  the  Cacique's  language, 
which  I  was  not  before  acquainted  with.     JBut  they  are 

onlv 
*■  The  Indians  know  not  our  hennifphere,  and  believe  that  tlae 
Sua  ealiL'h^.^^s  onlv  the  l.md.ct'his  children. 


THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS.  31 

only  teiTns  aj)plicable  to  objefts,  not  expreflive  of  my 
thoughts,  nor  iulHcient  to  make  me  undcrftand  thole  of 
others  :  They  give  me  fome  lights,  however,  wiiich  were 
n^ceffiry  for  my  fatisfaftion.  I  know  that  the  name  ot 
the  Cacique  is  Deterville  ;  that  of  our  floating  houfe,  a 
ihip  ;  and  that  of  the  country  we  are  going  to,  France, 

The  latter  at  firft  frightened  me,  as  I  did  not  remem- 
ber to  have  heard  any  province  of  thy  kingdom  called  fo  : 
But  refleiSfing  on  the  iitfinite  number  of  countries  under 
thy  dominion,  the  names  of  which  I  have  forgot,  my 
fear  quickly  vanifiied.  Could  it  long  fubfilf  with  that  fo- 
lid  confidence  which  the  fight  of  the  lun  gives  me  incef- 
fantly  ?  No,  my  dear  Aza,  that  divine  luminary  enligh-. 
tens  only  his  children.  To  doubt  this  would  he  criminal 
in  me  :  I  am  returning  into  thy  emph'e  j  I  am  on  the 
point  of  feeing  thee  j  I  run  to  my  felicity. 

Amidflthetraniportsofmy  joy,  gratitude  prepares  me 
a  delicious  plealiare.  Thou  wilt  load  with  honour  and 
riches  the  beneficent  Cacique,  who  fliall  reftore  iis  one  to 
the  other :  He  iliall  bear  into  his  own  country  the  remem- 
brance of  Zilla ;  the  reco.npence  of  his  virtue  ihali  render 
him  ftil'  more  virtuous,  and  his  happinefs  lliall  be  thy 
glory.  Nothing  can  compare,  my  dear  Aza,  tothekind- 
flefs  he  Ihews  me.  Far  from  treating  me  as  his  Ihve,  he 
feems  to  be  mine.  He  is  now  altogether  as  complaifanr. 
to  me;  as  he  v/as  contradictory  diuang  my  ficknefs.  My 
perfcn,  my  inquietudes,  myamufements,  feemtomakeup 
his  whole  employment,  and  to  engage  all  his  care.  I  ad- 
mit his  offices  with  lefs  confufion,  fmce  cuftom  and  re- 
fleflion  have  informed  me  that  I  was  in  an  error  with  re- 
gard to  the  idolatry  I  lufptcfed  him.  gaiihy  of.  Not  th^iC 
lie  does  not  continue  to  repeat  much  the  lame  demonilia- 
tions  v^'hich  I  took  for  worHiip  ;  but  the  tone,  the  air, 
and  manner  he  makes  ufe  of,  perfuade  me  that  it  is  only 
a  diverfion  in  his  country  mjinner. 

He  begins  by  making  me  pronounce  diiiinclly  fome 
words  in  his  languas^e,  and  he  knows  well  that  the  gods 
do  notfpeak.  As  loon  as  1  have  repeated  after  him,  ou}, 
k  '-VOHS  aimef  *  Yes  I  lov.^  you,'  ov zW^j  je promcts d\'trii 


32.  THE    PERUVIAN    PRIMCESS. 

a  voiis,  *  I  promife  to  be  j'ours,'  joy  expand?  over  hi» 
countenance,  hekifiesiny  hands  with  tranlport,  and  with 
an  air  of  gaiety  quite  contraiy  to  that  gravity  which  ac- 
companies divine  adoration.  Ealy  as  I  am  on  the  liead 
of  religion,  I  am  not  quite  lb  with  regard  to  the  country 
from  whence  he  comes.  His  language  and  his  apparel 
are  fo  difFirent  from  ours,  that  they  fome limes  iliock  my 
confidence :  uneafy  refleftions  fometimes  cloud  over  my 
dear  hope  ;  I  pais  fuccefavely  from  fear  to  jo}',  and  from 
joy  to  inquietude.  Fatigued  with  the  confufion  of  my 
thoughts,  fick  of  "the  uncertainties  that  torment  me,  I 
had  reiblved  to  think  no  more  on  tlie  fubjefl :  But  what 
can  abate  the  anxiety  of  a  loul  deprived  cf  all  communi- 
cation, that  acls  only  on  itfelf,  and  is  excited  to  refleft 
by  fuch  bnportant  interefts  ?  I  cannot  exprefs  my  impa- 
tience, my  dear-  Aza  ;  I  fearch  for  information  with  an 
eagerncfs  that  devours  me,  and  yet  continually  find  my- 
felf  in  tlie  moft  profound  obfcurity.  I  know  that  the 
privation  of  a  fenle  may  in  fome  refpefts  deceive  j  and  yet 
I  fee  with  furprife,  that  the  ufe  of  all  mine  drag  m.e  on 
from  error  to  error.  Would  the  intelligence  of  tongues 
be  a  key  to  the  foul  ?  O  my  dear  Aza,  how  m.any  grie- 
vous truths  do  I  fee  through  my  misfortunes  !  But  far 
from,  me  be  thefe  troublefome  thoughts  :  We  touch  the 
lar.d ;  the  light  of  my  days  /hall  in  a  moment  dllnpate 
the  darknefs  which  furrounds  me. 

LETTER  X. 

To  Aza  :  her  arrlvalin  France. 

I  Am.  at  laft  arrived  at  this  land,  the  obje6t  of  my  de- 
fires  :  but  my  dear  Aza,  I  do  not  yet  fee  any  thing, 
that  confers  the  happinefs  I  had  promiled  myfelf .-  every 
obje£t  ftrikes,  furpriies,  aftcniflies,  and  leaves  on  me  only 
a  vague  imprefnon,  andftupid  perplexity,  which  I  do  not 
attempt  to  throw  cff.  My  errors  .delhoy  my  judg- 
ment i  I  remain  uncerlain,  and  aimoii-  dor.bt  ci  wliat  • 
behold.  Scarce  were  we  gotoufof  the  floating- houfe, 
but  we  entered  a  townbuiit  on  th^  fea-Aiore.  The  peo- 
ple, who  followed  us  in  cr>Avds,  :;ppeai-ed  to  be  of  the 

fame 


THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS.  35 

lania  nation  as  the  Cacique  :  and  the  houles  d'.d  not  at 
all  relemble  thole  of  the  cities  of  the  Sun  :  but  if  thefe 
furpafs  in  beauty,  by  the  richnefs  of  their  ornaments, 
thofe  are  to  be  prefeired,  on  account  of  the  prodigies 
with  which  they  are  filled.  Upon  entering  the  room 
adigned  me  by  Deterville,  my  heart  leaped  :  I  faw  front- 
ing the  door,  a  young  perlbn  drcfied  like  a  virgin  of  the 
Sun,  and  ran  to  her  with  open  arms.  How  gieat  was 
my  iiirpriie  to  find  nothing  but  an  impenetrable  refill- 
unce  where  I  faw  a  human  figure  move  in  a  very  extend- 
ed fpace !  Alfonillnnent  held  me  imniovcable,  with  my 
eyes  fixed  upon  this  objeft,  when  Deterville  made  me 
obferve  his  own  figure  on  the  fide  of  that  which  engag- 
ed all  my  attention  :  I  touched  him,  I  fpoice  to  him, 
and  I  faw  him  at  the  fame  time  very  near  and  very  far 
from  me.  Thefe  prodigies  confound  reafon,  and  blind 
the  judgment.  What  ought  we  to  think  of  the  inhabi- 
tants of  this  country  ?  fiiould  we  fear,  or  fhould  we  love 
them  ?  I  will  not  take  upon  me  to  come  to  any  deter- 
mination upon  fo  nice  a  fubje6f .  The  Cacique  made 
me  underftand,  that  the  figure  which  I  faw  was  my  own ! 
But  what  information  does  that  give  me  ?  Docs  it  make 
the  wonder  lefs  great  ?  Am  I  the  lefs  mortified  to  find 
nothing  but  error  and  ignorance  in  my  mind  ?  With 
grief  I  fee  it,  my  dear  Aza ;  the  lead  knowing  in  this 
country  are  wifer  than  all  our  Amutas.  The 

The  Cacique  has  given  me  a  young  and  very  fprightly 
China*,  and  it  affords  me  great  pleafure  to  fee  a  wo- 
man again,  and  to  be  fcrved  by  her.  Many  others  of 
my  fex  wait  upon  me  j  but  I  had  rather  they  would  let 
it  alone,  for  their  prefence  awakens  my  fears.  One 
may  fee  by  their  manner  of  looking  on  me,  that  they 
have  never  been  at  Cuzco  |-.  However,  as  my  fpirit 
floats  continually  in  a  iea  of  uncertainties,  I  can  judge 
of  nothing.  My  heart,  alone  unlhaken,  defires,  ex- 
pe6fs,  waits  for  one  happinefs  only,  without  which  all 
the  reft  is  pain  and  vexation.  LETTER 

*  A  maid-fervant  or  chambermaid.     ■\-  The  capital  of  Pei  st. 


54-  THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS. 

LETTER  XI. 

To  AzA  :  fe--veral  remarks  07i  K,<:hat  fkefees. 

THOUGH  1  have  taken  all  the  pains  in  my  power 
to  gain  fome  light  with  refpecl  to  my  prefent  fi- 
tuatlon,  I  am  no  better  infcrmed  at  this  indant  than  I 
was- three  clays  ago.  All  that  I  have  been  able  to  ob- 
ferve  is,  that  the  other  favages  of  this  comitry  appear 
as  good  nnd  as  humane  as  the  Cacique.  They  ling  and 
dance,  as  if  they  had  lands  to  cultivate  every  day*. — 
If  I  was  to  form  a  judgment  from  the  oppofition  of  their 
cufloms  to  thoie  of  our  nation,  I  fhould  not  have  the 
leaft  hope:  but  I  remember  that  thy  auguft  father  fub- 
jecled  to  his  obedience  provinces  very  remote,  the  peo- 
ple of  vv'hich  had  nothing  in  common  with  us.  Why 
may  not  this  be  one  of  thofe  provinces  ?  The  fun  feenis 
pleafed  to  enlighten  it,  and  his  beams  are  more  bright 
and  pure  *-han  I  ever  law  themf.  This  infpires  me  with 
confidence,  and  I  am  uneai'y  only  to  think  how  long  it 
muft  be  before  I  can  be  fully  informed  of  what  regards 
our  interefts :  for,  my  dear  Aza,  I  am  very  certain  that 
the  kiiowledge  of  the  language  of  the  country  will  be 
fuffijient  to  teach  me  the  truth,  and  allay  my  inquie- 
tudes. I  let  flip  no  opportuniry  of  learning  it,  and 
avail  myfelf  of  all  the  mcmcrits  wlierein  Deterville  leaves 
me  at  liberty,  to  take  the  inftru6li(  ns  of  my  China. — 
Little  fervicc  indeed  they  do  me  j  for,  as  I  cannot  make 
her  underftand  my  thoughts,  we  can  hold  no  converfa- 
tlon,  and  I  le?.rn  only  the  names  of  luch  obje6f s  as  ihiktr 
both  our  figlits.  The  figns  of  the  Cacique  are  fome- 
tlmesmore  ufeful  to  me  :  cuftom  has  m.ade  it  a  kind  of 
larjguage  betwixt  us,  which  ferves  us  at  leaft  to  exprefs 
our  wills.  He  conducted  me  yefterday  into  a  houfe, 
v»'iiere,  v^ithcut  this  knowledge,  I  ftiould  have  behaved 
very  ill.  We  entered  into  a  larger  and  better  furni/lied 
ap^rtm^ent  than  that  which  I  inhabit,  and  a  great  many 
people  were  there  afl'embled.     The  general  aftonilhm.ent 

Hiewn 

*  The  lands  in  Peru  are  cultivated  in  common,  and  the  diiys' 
they  are  about  this  work,  are  always  days  of  rejoicing. 

f  The  fun  neva  Ihines  clear  in  Peru. 


THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS.  35 

/hewn  at  my  appearance  difpleaied  me,  and  the  excd- 
iire  laughter  which  Ibme  young  women  endeavoured  to 
ftiSe,  but  which  buili  cut  again,  when  they  call  their 
eyts  on  me,  gave  me  fuch  uneafineis  ot  mind,  that  I 
Inouid  have  taken  it  for  fiiarae,  if  I  could  have  fours-l 
myfelf  coriibicus  of  any  fault:  but,  finding  nothing 
within  me  but  a  repugnirxe  to  fey  in  fuch  company,  i 
was  going  to  returii  back,  when  I  >  was  detained  by  3 
fign  of  Detenille.  I  round  that  I  il-ouid  commit  a 
fault  hy  going  out,  and  I  took  great  care  not  to  de- 
ferve  the  blame  that  was  thrown  on  me  v.dthout  cauie. 
As  I  fixed  my  attention,  during  my  ftay,  upon  tho-i 
women,  I  thought  I  dilcovered  that  the  iingularity  or 
my  drefs  cccalioned  the  furprife  of  fome,  and  the  laugh- 
ter of  others.  I  pitied  their  weakneis,  and  endeavour- 
ed to  peifuade  them  by  my  countenance,  that  ray  Icul 
did  not  fo  much  differ  from  theirs,  as  my  habit  dilFered 
from  their  ornaments. 

A  young  man,  whom  I  Should  have  taken  for  a  Cu- 
raca  *,  if  he  had  net  been  drelled  in  black,  came  and 
took  me  by  the  hand  with  an  aSable  air,  and  led  me  to 
a  woman,  whom,  by  her  haughty  mien,  I  took  for  the 
Pallas  f  of  the  ccuntry .  He  ipoke  feveral  words  to  her, 
which  I  remember  by  having  heard  DetervUleproncunce 
the  fame  a  thoufand  times.  "  What  a  beauty! — What 
**  fine  eyes!"  ««  Aye,""'  anfwered  another  man,  "  the 
*'  has  the  graces  and  the  fliape  of  a  nj-mph."  Except 
the  women,  who  faid  nothing,  they  ail  tepeated  almolt 
the  fame  words  :  I  do  not  yet  knew  their  ugnificatlon; 
but  fiu-ely  they  exprefs  agreeable  ideas,  for  Lie  coimte- 
nance  is  always  i miliiig  when  they  are  pronounced .  The 
Cacique  feems  to  be  erctremely  well  latisfied  with  what 
the;,-  lay.  He  keeps  ciofe  to  ir.e,  or,  if  he  fteps  a  litt'is 
from  me  to  ipeak  to  any  one,  his  eyes  are  ccnitantly 
upca  me,  and  he  ibews  me  by  iigns  -^yhat  I  am  to  do. 
1  or  my  part,  1  obferve  him  very  attentively,  as  I  would 

not 

*  The  Caracas  were  pet^  fovereigns  of  a  coontry,  vb©  bad 
the  privilege  of  wearing  the  fame  diefs  2s  the  tic?-*. 

\  A  gen.rai  name  of  the  Indian  priace&s. 


•  lb  THE    PERUVIAN'    PRINCESS, 

not  offend  againft  the  cuftoms  of  a  people  who  knc\Y  of 
little  ot  cms.  I  believe,  my  dear  Aza,  I  can  fcaicely 
make  thee  comprehend  how  extraordinaiy  the  manners  of 
thei'e  lavages  appear  to  me.  They  have  fo  impatient  a 
vivacity,  that  words  do  not  I'ufnce  them  for  expreflion  j 
but  they  I'peak  as  much  by  the  motion  of  the  body  as  by 
the  found  of  the  voice.  What  I  fee  of  tiieir  continual 
agitation,  has  fully  convinced  me  how  little  importance 
there  was  in  that  behaviour  of  the  Cacique  whlcn  cauied 
me  fo  much  uneafmefs,  and  upon  which  I  made  fo  many 
falfe  conicfturcs.  Yefterday  he  killed  the  hands  of  the 
Pallas,  and  of  all  the  other  women  :  nay,  what  I  never 
faw  before,  he  even  kilfed  their  cheeks.  The  men  came 
to  embrace  him !  fonie  took  him  by  the  hand  j  others 
pulled  him  by  the  cloaths  ;  all  with  a  fprightlinefs  of 
which  we  have  no  idea.  To  judge  of  their  minds  by 
the  vivacity  of  their  geftures,  I  am  fure  that  our  mea- 
fured  exprcflions,  the  fublime  ccmparifons  which  fo  na- 
turally convey  our  tender  fentiments  and  aifeflionate 
thoughts,  would  to  them  appear  infipid.  They  would 
take  our  lericrus  ar.d  modelt  air  tor  llupidity,  and  the 
gravity  of  our  gait  for  mere  ftiifnels.  Would 'll  thou 
believe  it,  my  dear  Aza  ?  if  thou  v^-ert  here,  I  could  be 
plcaled  to  live  amcngll  them.  A  certain  air  of  affabi- 
lity, Ipread  over  all  they  do,  renders  them  amiable ;  and, 
if  my  foul  was  luore  happy,  I  fliould  find  a  plealure  in 
the  d  verlity  of  objects  that  fuccefTively  pafTed  before  my 
eyes  :  but  the  little  reference  they  have  to  thee,  effaces 
the  agreeablenefs  of  their  novelty  :  thou  alone  art  my 
good,  and  mv  pleafure. 

LETTER  XII. 

'To  Aza  :  her  French  drefs^  end  accoimt  of  captain  De- 

ter'ville's  beka^iour  to  ker. 

I  HAVE  been  long,  my  dear  Aza,  without  being  able 
to  bellow  a  mcm.ent  en  my  favourite  occupation  : 
yet  I  liave  a  great  many  extraordinary  things  to  com- 
municate to  thee,  and  avail  myfelf  of  this  firll  fnort  leilure 
to  begin  *hy  infcnrat  en.  The  next  day  after  I  had 
yuitea  the  Pallas,  Dctciviilc  caufed  a  vciy  tine  hablr,  o^- 

thc 


THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS.  37 

the  fafhion  of  the  coimriy,  tc  be  brought  ine.  Atrer 
mv  little  China  hat!  put  it  on  according  to  her  fancy , 
(he  leci  me  to  that  inc^enious  machine  which  doublea  ob- 
jefls.  Though  I  ftiould  be  now  habituated  to  ito  cf- 
fciU,  I  couid  not  help  being  lurprifed  at  iecing  iny  fi- 
gure fland  as  if  I  was  over- againft  nnTclf.  My  new  ac- 
coutrements did  not  dilpieale  me.  Perhaps  I  fh^uid 
have  more  regretted  thoie  vi.  hich  I  left  off,  if  they  had 
not  made  ever)'  body  troublcfume  by  their  llaring  at  me. 
The  Cacique  canle  into  my  chamber,  julf  as  the  girl 
was  adding  fome  trinkets  to  my  drefs.  He  llopped  at 
the  doer,  and  looked  at  me  for  fome  time  without  I'pcak- 
ing.  So  profound  was  his  reverence,  th  t  he  ftept  alidc 
to  let  the  China  go  cut,  and  inadvertently  put  himfclf 
in  her  place.  His  eyes  were  fixed  upon  me,  and  he  ex- 
amined all  my  perfon  vv^Ith  fnch  a  fenous  attention  js  a 
little  diicompoled  me,  tiiough  T  knew  not  the  le  ..  '1  of 
what  he  did.  Hov^'ever,  to  fiiew  him  my  ackr.o'>'-  .dg- 
meiit  for  his  new  benefaftlons,  I  offered  him  my  aand, 
and,  not  being  able  to  exprels  my  Imiirncnts,  1  tiiought 
I  covild  not  fay  any  thing  more  agreeable  ••,  h  >  !  than 
fome  of  tliofe  words  which  he  amulcd  himfei:  w  *'.  : .ach- 
ing me  to  repeat:  I  endeavoured  even  to  give  i  .  .11  the 
fame  tone  as  he  did  in  pronunciation.  Wha«:  e^feclthcy 
inftantaneoufly  had  on  him  I  know  not :  he  his  eyes 
fparkled,  his  cheeks  reddened,  he  ;>pproachea:v.e  tremb- 
ling, and  feemtd  to  have  a  defire  to  fnatch  niv-  into  his 
arms:  then  lloppmg  fuddcnly  he  preiT-d  my  nand,  and 
pronounced  in  a  paiuonate  tone,  ''  No— refptcl — her 
"  virtue"  5  and  many  other  words  which  1  underdood 
no  better  than  thei*;.  Thtn  throwing  himfelf  upon  his 
ieat,  on  the  other  fide  of  the  room,  he  leaned  his  h-r..d 
upon  Ills  hand,  and  fat  moping  with  all  the  fymptoms 
ot  affliilive  pain. 

I  was  alarmed  at  his  condition,  not  doubting  but  I  had 
occafionedhim  fome  uneafinefs  :  I  drew  near  him  to  tefti- 
fy  my  repentance  j  but  he  gently  pufliedme  away  with- 
out looking  at  me,  and  1  did  not  dare  fay  any  Lhinginore. 
I  was  in  the  greateil  confulion  when  the  itrvants  came 
D  in 


^S  THE  PERUVIAN    PRINfEJS. 

in  to  bring  us  vl6luals :  he  thea  i-ofe,  and  we  eat  toge- 
ther in  GUI  uiual  manner,  his  pain  fetming  to  have  no 
ether  cciucquence  but  a  little  Ibnosv  :  yet  he  was  not  iefs 
kind  ajid  good  to  me,  which  leemed  to  me  inconceivable. 
I  did  not  dare  to  lift  up  my  eyts  upon  him,  or  make  ufe 
ctthe  ngns  which  commonly  i'erved  us  in  (lead  of  conver- 
faticn  :  but  our  meal  was  at  a  ♦•'.me  [o  different  from  the 
ufual  hour  of  repaft,  that  I  could  not  help  ihewing  fome 
tokens  of  lurprife.  Ail  that  I  could  underftand  of  his 
anfwer  was  that  we  were  fooii  to  change  our  dwelling. 
In  eifecl,  the  Cacique,  after  going  in  and  out  leveral 
times,  came  and  took  me  by  the  hand.  I  let  him  lead 
me,  ftiil  mufing  with  myfelf  on  vvr.it  had  pafTcd,  and  cun- 
iideiing  whether  the  change  of  our  place  was  not  a  con- 
lequence  of  it.  Scarce  was  I  got  without  the  outward 
door  of  the  houfe,  before  he  helped  me  up  a  pretty  high 
liep,  and  I  advanced  into  a  chamber  fo  low  that  one 
could  not  ftand  upright  in  it:  but  there  was  room  enough 
for  the  Cacique,  the  China  and  m.yfelf  all  to  fit  at  eafe. 
This  little  apratment  is  agreeably  decorated,  has  a  win- 
dow on  each  fide  that  enlightens  it  fufficientlyj  but  it  is 
riCt  fpacious  enough  to  v.'zlk  in.  While  I  was  confidcr- 
vAg  it  with  furprifc;  and  endeavouring  to  divine  what 
<:Guld  be  Detervilie'sreafcnJor  fliutting  us  up  fo  clofe  (O 
my  dear  Aza!  how  famdiar  prodigies  are  in  this  coun- 
tiy)  I  felt  this  machine,  or  caWm,  I  know  not  what  to 
call  it,  move  and  change  its  place.  This  motion  made 
me  think  of  the  floating  houfe.  The  Cacique  faw  me 
frightened,  and,  as  he  is  attentive  to  my  leait  uneafineis, 
pacified  me  by  making  me  look  out  cfoneof  the  windows. 
I  Hiw,  not  v/ithout  extreme  furprife,  that  tiiis  m^ichine, 
iufpended  pretty  near  the  earth,  moved  by  a  fecret  pov/er 
which  I  did  not  comprehend.  Dcterville  then  fiiewed  me 
that  ibverai  Hamas*,  of  a  fpecies  unknown  to-us,  wcut 
before  us,  ami  drew  us  after  tliem.  O  light  of  my  days  ! 
thefe  people  mulf  have  a  genius  more  than  human,  that 
enables  them  to  invent  things  ibm'eful  and  finguiar;  but 
there  muit  be  aho-in  this  nation  fome  great  detects  that 

uicucruie 
*  A  gcacrsl  n^mz  fox  beafli. 


.     THE    PEHUVIAN    PRINCESS.  59 

rnoderate  its  power,  othei-wife  it  mud  needs  be  miftrefs 
of  the  whole  world.  For  four  da\'s  we  were  fhut  up  in 
this  wonderful  machine,  leaving  it  only  at  night  to  take 
cur  rc't  in  the  hii\  houfe  we  came  to  j  and  then  I  always 
quitted  it  with  regret.  I  ccnrefs,  my  dear  Aza,  tiiar, 
notwithftanding  iny  tender  inquietudes,  I  have  tailed 
pleafui^s,  during  this  journey,  that  were  before  unknown 
to  me.  Shut  up  in  the  temple  from  my  mod  tender  in- 
fancy, I  was  un;cquainted  w^ith  the  beauties  of  the  uni- 
vcrie,  and  every  thing  that  I  fee  ravifties  and  enchants 
me.  The  imnienfe  fields,  which  are  incefran«-ly  changed 
and  renewed,  hurry  on  the  attentive  mind  v.ith  more  ra- 
pidity than  we  pals  ov^er  them. 

The  eyes,  without  being  fatigued,  rove  at  once  over  an 
infinite  variety  of  admirable  objects,  and  at  the  fam& 
time  are  at  relt.  One  feems  to  find  no  other  bounds  to 
tiie  fjghtthan  thofe  of  the  world  itfelf  j  which  error  flat- 
ters us,  gives  us  a  fati^faftory  idea,  of  our  own  grandeur, 
and  feems  to  bring  us  nearer  to  the  creator  oi'  thefe  won- 
ders. At  the  end  of  a  fine  day,  the  heavens  preient  us 
a  fpedr.cle  not  lefs  admirable  than  that  ot  the  earth. 
Tranfparent  clouds  aflemblcd  round  theiun,tinci:ured  Vvlth 
the  m.oft  lively  colours,  fnew  us  mour.tainsof  fhade  and 
light  in  every  part,  and  the  majeftic  diforder  attrafts  our 
admiration  till  we  forget  ourielves.  The  Cacique  has 
had  the  complaifance  to  let  me  every  day  ftep  cut  of  the 
rolling  cabbin,  in  order  to  contemplate  at  leifure  the 
wonders  which  he  law  me  admire.  How  delicious  are 
the  woods,  my  dear  Aza!  If  tlie  beauties  of  heaven  and 
earth  tranfport  us  far  from  ourfelves  by  an  involuntaiy 
rapture,  thole  of  the  forcfts  bring  us  back  again  by  an 
inward  incomprehenfible  bias,  the  fccret  of  which  is  in 
nature  only.  When  we  enter  thefe  delightful  places,  an 
unlverfai  charm  overflows  all  the  ftnfes,  and  confounds 
their  ufe.  We  think  we  fee  the  cool'ng  breeze  before  we 
feel  it.  The  different  fhades  in  the  colour  of  leaves, 
foften  the  light  that  penetrates  them,  and  feem  to  Ibilce 
the  lentiment  as  foon  as  the  light.  An  agreeable,  but 
indeterminate  odour,  leaves  it  ditncult  for  ui  to  difcern 
D  A  whether 


40  TH£    PERUVIAN    rRlNCh'Si*. 

wii-ther  It  affects  the  tafte  or  the  ihieil.  Even  the  air, 
without  being  perceived,  conveys  to  our  bodies  a  pure 
pler.lure,  which  kerns  to  give  us  another  lenle,  though 
it  does  not  mark,  out  the  organ  of  it. 

O,  5Tiy  dear  Aza  !  how  would  thy  prelence  embellifli 
thole  pure  dehghts  !  liow  have  I  dclired  to  fhare  them 
with  thee  !  Wert  thou  the  witnels  ot'iny  tender  thoughts, 
I  (hould  make  tjiee  find,  in  the  lentiments  of  my  heart, 
chariiis  more  powerful  than  all  thole  ot  the  beauties  of 
the  univerfe. 

LETTER  XIII, 
"To  AzA  :  Jhe  comes  to  Paris  ;  Deter--cHle^ s  and  ker  recep- 
tion liy  his  relations. 
AT  laft,  my  dear  Aza,  I  am  got  into  a  city  called 
Paris  :  Our  journey  is  at  an  e)id  :  but,  according  to 
all  appearances,  ic  are  not  my  troubles.  More  attentive 
than  ever,  fince  m  arrival  here,  to  all  that  paiTes,  my 
(Jilcoveiies  produce  only  torment,  and  prer:age  notning 
but  misfoj  tunes.  I  find  thv  idea  in  the  lealt  curious  of  my 
defiles,  but  cannotmeet  with  itin  anyof  thofeobjecf  that 
I  fee.  As  well  as  I  can  judge  by  the  tim.ewefpcnt  in  paff- 
ing  through  the  city,  and  by  the  great  number  of  ijiha- 
h:tants  with  who:n  the  lireets  are  filled,  it  contains  m.ore 
people  than  could  be  got  togethei'  in  two  or  three  of  our 
countries.  I  rcficil:  on  the  wonders  that  have  been  told 
me  of  Qmto,  and  endeavour  to  find  here  ibme  llrokes  of 
the  pidurc  w:.  ch  I  conceive  of  that  gieat  city  :  But  alas ! 
what  a  ditFcrerce!  This  place  contains  bridges,  rivers, 
trees,  fields  :  it  feems  to  be  an  univerfe,  rather  than  a 
p  irticular  leat  of  habitation .  I  fijould  endeavour  in  vain 
to  '^ive  thee  a  juft  idea  of  tne  height  of  tliehoufcs.  They 
arc  lb  prodigioufiy  elevated,  that  it  is  more  eafy  to  bc- 
!iv.ve  natuie  produced  them  as  they  are,  than  to  compre- 
hend how  men  could  build  them. 

Here  it  is  that  the  family  of  the  Cacique  refides.  Tlieir 
houle  is  almoin  as  mr^gnificent  as  that  of  the  Sun  :  the 
furniture  and  fome  parts  of  the  walls  are  of  gold,  and  the 
reft  is  adorned  with  a  various  mixture  of  the  hnefl  colours, 
which  prettily  enough  reprelent  the  beauties  of  nature. 

At 


THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS.  41 

At  my  arrival.  Dctervillc  made  me  underftand  that  he 
was  conduclir.g  me  to  his  mother's  apartment.  Wc 
found  her  recUned  upon  a  bed  of  almoft  the  fame  fomi 
with  that  or  the  Incas,  and  of  the  fam.e  metal*.  After 
having  held  out  her  hand  to  'he  Cacique,  who  killed  it 
bov/ing  almoft  to  the  ground,  flie  embraced  him  j  but 
with  a  kindnefs  fo  cold,  a  joy  foconlf  rained,  that,  if  pre- 
vious inforniation  had  not  been  given  me,  I  (hould  no* 
have  knov/n  the  fentiments  of  nature  in  ti:e  careiles  of 
this  mother.  After  a  moments  converfation,  the  C^^ 
cique  mide  me  draw  near.  She  caft  on  me  a  difdainful 
Isok,  and,  without  anfv^erlng  what  her  fon  faid  to  her, 
continued  gravely  to  turn  round  her  finger  a  thread,  which 
hung  to  a  fmall  piece  of  gold. 

Deter\'ille  left  us  to  go  and  meet  a  ftately  bulky  m.an, 
who  had  advanced  feme  iteps  tov.ards  him.  He  embra- 
ced both  him  and  a  women  who  was  employed  in  the 
fame  manner  as  the  Pallas.  As  foon  as  the  Cacique  had 
appeared  in  the  cham.ber,  a  young  maiden,  of  about  my 
age,  ran  to  us,  and  followed  him.  with  a  timid  eagemcfs 
that  feemed  remarkable.  Joy  fhone  upon  her  ccun*e- 
nance,  yet  did  not  banifh  the  marks  of  a  ibrrow  that  feem- 
ed to  affeil  her.  Detei  vale  embraced  her  lift,  but  with 
a  tendemefs  fo  natural,  that  ray  heart  was  m.oved  at  it. 
Alas  !  my  dear  Aza,  what  would  our  tianfports  be,  [£ 
after  fo  many  misfoitunes,  fate  fnould  reunite  u^  ?  Dur- 
ing this  time  I  kept  near  the  Pallas,  whom.  I  durlt  not: 
cjuit,  nor  look  up  atf ,  out  of  refpe6t.  Some  fevere  g.  nces, 
v/hich  (he  threw  from  time  to  tim^e  upo '  me,  completed 
my  confufion,  and  put  m.e  under  a  conftr.iiat  that  aftcct- 
ed  my  \'try  thoughts.  At  hit,  the  young  damiel,  as  if 
flie  had  guefied  at  my  diforder,  as  foon  as  ihe  had  quitted. 
Deteiville,  came  and  took  m»e  by  the  liar.d,  and  led  n:« 
to  a  window  where  we  both  fat  down.  Though  I  dii 
not  underftand  any  thing  ftie  faid  to  me,  her  eyes  full  of 
goodnefs  ("poke  to  me  the  unlverfal  language  of  bensfi-. 

*  The  bed;,  chilrs,  and  tables  of  ::he  Incas  were  of  malTy  lOii. 
f  Young  damieis,  though  otzhi  blood  td^J^  ihow  2  profound 
rtfpeft  to  nairried  women.  cent 

D  3 


41  THE    FEP.'JVIAN    PRINCESS, 

cent  hearts  :  they  inlplied  me  with  a  confidence  and  friend*^ 
fhip  whicn  I  would  willingly  have  exprcflcd  to  her:  but 
not  being  able  to  utter  the  ientiments  of  my  mind,  I  pro- 
nounced rdl  that  I  knew  of'  her  language. 

She  fmiled  more  than  once,  looking  on  Detervlllc 
with  the  moil  tender  fweetnefs.  I  was  pleafmg  mvkif 
with  this  converiation,  when  the  Pallas  Ipoke  Ibnaewo'ds 
aloud,  looking  fterniy  on  my  new  friend  ;  whofe  coun- 
tenance immediately  falling,  flie  thruft  away  my  hand 
which  (he  before  held  in  hers,  and  took  no  farther  notice 
cf  me.  Some  time  after  that,  an  old  woman,  of  gloomy 
appearance,  entered  the  room,  went  up  towards  the 
Palhs,  then  came  and  took  me  by  the  ann,  led  me  to 
a  chamber  at  the  top  of  the  houfe,  and  left  m.e  there 
alone.  Though  this  moment  could  not  be  cfleemed  the 
moft  unfortunate  of  my  life,  yet,  my  dear  Aza,  I  could 
not  pais  it  without  much  concern.  I  expei5led,  at  the 
end  of  my  journey,  feme  relief  to  my  fatigues,  aiid  that 
in  the  Cacique's  family  I  fhould  at  U'aft  meet  with  the 
famekindnel's  as  from  him.  The  cold  reception  of  the 
Pallas,  the  fudden  change  of  behaviour  in  the  damfcl, 
the  rudenefs  ©f  this  woman  in  forcing  me  from  a  place 
wliere  I  had  i-ather  have  flaid,  the  inattention  of  Detcr- 
ville,  who  did  not  oppoie  the  violence  ihewn  mej  in  a 
\Koid,  sll  circumftances  that  might  aus^ment  the  pains 
of  anunhnppv  mind,  prefenttd  thtmfelves  at  once  wiih 
th.eir  moll  rueful  afpcPis  !  I  thought  myfelf  abaudoncil 
by  all  the  world,  and  was  nitterly  deplor;i;g  my  dilhial 
(Icftiny,  v/hen  f  bthtrld  my  China  coming  in.  Hcrpre- 
fence,  in  my  fitu:'.tion,  iecmcd  to  me  an  elu-ntial  good  ; 
I  ran  to  her,  embraced  her  wi-h  tears,  and  was  more 
nicked  when  I  aw  I'.er  touched  with  my  afBiilion. 
A'.Hien  n  mind  is  reduced  to  p'ty  itfclf,  the  compallion 
ci  anothei' is  verv  valuabl.'.  The  marks  of  this  young- 
woman's  a-Fcclirn  I'oftcnai  my  ai^.guifn  :  I  related  to  her 
my  griefs,  ."s  If  I'lie  c;  uld  imderlfand  me  :  I  afktd  her 
a  thor.iand  quelilons,  :  ;  if  it  had  been  in  her  power  to 
ar'.wcr  thtm.  Her  tt- rr>  (poke  to  my  heart,  and  mine 
co.;t.inued  to  fiow,  biii  v/ifi)  l:i's  bittcruefs  than  before 

I  thcu2.lit 


THE    PERVVIAN    PRINCESS.  4-5 

?  thought,  at  leaft,  that  I  fhoiild  lee  Deterville  at  the 
hour  of  reiVtihment:  bvit  they  brought  me  up  viftuals, 
and  I  law  him  not.  Since  I  have  loft  thee,  dear  idol 
of  my  heart,  this  Cacique  Is  the  only  human  creature 
tint  has  Ihcwn  me  an  uninterrupted  courle  of  goodnefs  : 
to  that  the  cidlom  of  feeing  him  becam'e  a  kind  of  ne- 
celfity.  His  abfence  redoubled  my  forrow.  After  ex- 
peftmg  him  long  in  vain,  I  laid  me  down ;  but  lleep 
Irad  not  yet  fcaled  my  eyes  before  I  faw  him  enter  my 
chamber,  followed  by  the  your.g  woman  whole  brilk 
ditdaln  had  lb  fenfibly  afflicted  me. 

She  threw  herfclf  upon  my  bed,  and  by  a  thoufand 
carelles  I'eemed  defirous  to  repair  the  ill-treatir.ent  Ihe 
had  given  me.  The  Cacique  fat  down  by  mybcd-fide, 
and  feeiued  to  r-eceive  as  much  pleafure  in  feeing  me 
again,  as  I  enjoyed  in  perceiving  I  was  not  abandoned. 
They  talked  together  with  their  eyes  fixeil  on  me,  and 
heaped  on  me  the  mod  tender  marks  of  affeftion.  In- 
fcrnnbly  their  converfaticn  became  more  ferious.  Though 
I  did  not  underftand  their  difcourle,  it  was  tafy  for  me 
to  judge  that  it  was  founded  on  confidence  and  friend- 
Diip.  I  took  care  not  to  interrupt  them  :  but,  as  foon 
as  they  returned  to  my  bedllde,  I  endeavoured  to  obtain 
from  tiie  Cacique  fome  light  with  regard  to  thole  par- 
ticulars which  had  appealed  to  me  the  moll  extraordi- 
nary fince  my  arrival.  AH  that  I  could  underftand  from 
his  aniwer  was,  that  the  n.ime  of  the  young  woman  be- 
fore me  wasCeiina,  that  flie  was  his  fifterj  that  the 
great  man,  whom  I  had  leen  in  the  chamber  of  the  Pal- 
las, was  his  elder  brother,  and  the  other  young  woman, 
th.at  brother's  wife.  Cclina  became  more  dear  to  me, 
w'len  I  undtrftood  Ihe  was  the  Cacique's  lifter,  and  the 
company  of  both  v.'as  fo  agreeable,  that  I  did  not  per- 
ceive it  was  day-light  before  they  left  me.  After  their 
ilep:<rture,  I  Ipent  the  reft  of  the  time  deftined  to  repole, 
in  thus  converfing  with  thee.  This  is  my  happinels, 
my  oniyjoy  j '  it  is  to  thee  alone,  dear  foul  of  my  thoughts, 
tli^t  I  unbolbm  my  heart  }  thou  ftialt  evei  be  the  ible 
depofiton-  of  my  fccrets,  mv  palfions,  ani  mytentiment-^. 

iFTTfK 


^4  THE    PERUVIAN^    PRINCESSi 

LETTER  XIV. 

To  Az  A  :  J}:e  is  affront  id  In  puhlic  company. 
TF  I  did  not  continue,  my  dear  Aza,  to  take  tiommy 
X.  deep  the  time  that  I  give  to  thee,  I  fhould  no  more 
enjoy  tho'e  delicious  moments  in  which  I  exili  tor  thee 
only.  They  have  made  me  refume  my  virgin  habits, 
and  oblige  me  to  remain  all  day  in  a  room  lull  of  peo- 
ple, who  are  changed  ami  renewed  every  moment  with- 
out i'eeming  to  di^ninifli.  This  involuntary  dilFipation, 
in  Ipite  of  me,  otren  cauCes  a  fulpenfion  of  my  tender 
thoughts  :  but  if,  for  ibme  moments,  I  lole  that  lively 
attention  which  unites  our  hearts,  I  find  thee  again  in 
the  advantageous  companions  I  make  of  thee  with  what- 
ever furrounds  me.  In  the  different  countries  that  I 
have  pafied  through,  I  hive  not  feen  any  favages  lb 
haugluily  familiar  as  ihele.  The  women,  in  pai'ticu- 
lar,  ieem  to  have  a  kind  of  difdainful  civility  that  dil- 
gufts  human  nature,  and  would  perhaps  inipire  me  with 
as  much  contempt  for  them,  as  they  fiiew  for  others,  if 
I  knew  tliem  better.  One  of  them  caul'ed  an  affront  to 
be  given  me  yefterday,  which  Hill  afflifts  me.  Jull 
Vvhen  the  aflembly  was  moft  numerous,  after  fhe  had 
been  Ipeaking  to  I'everal  perfons  without  perceiving  me  ; 
whether  by  chance,  or  that  fomebody  made  her  take 
notice  of  me ;  as  foon  as  fhe  caft  her  eyes  on  me,  ilie 
burft  out  a  laughing,  quitted  her  place  precipitately, 
came  to  me,  made  me  riie,  and,  after  having  turned 
me  backwards  and  forwards,  as  often  as  her  vivacity 
prompted,  after  having  handled  all  the  parts  of  my  dreis 
with  a  molt  fciupulous  attention,  (lie  beckoned  to  a 
young  man  to  draw  near,  and  began  agam  with  lum 
the  examination  of  my  figure. 

Though  I  fnewed  a  diilike  to  the  liberty  which  both 
of  tliem  took,  as  the  richnefs  of  the  wom.an's  dreis  made 
me  take  her  for  a  Pallas,  and  the  magnificence  of  the 
young  man,  who  was  all  over  plated  with  gold,  mxade 
iiim  look   like  an   Anqui  *,  I  dared   not   oppole  their 

*  A  prince  of  the  blood.  There  mull:  be  leave  from  an  Inca 
ior  a  Peruvi.in  to  wear  gold  upon  his  appirel,  and  the  Inca  give; 
thii  nermiiuon  only  to  the  princes  of  the  blood  royal.  wili  : 


THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCrSS.  45 

wiil :  but  this  rn(h  lavage,  emboldened  by  the  familia- 
rity ot"  the  Pallas,  and  perhaps  by  my  iubmilHon,  hav- 
ing had  the  iinpiu'.cnce  to  put  his  hand  upon  my  neck, 
I  puihed  it  away  with  a  lurpiire  and  indignation  that 
iliewcd  him  I  underftood  good  manners  better  than  him- 
Icli".  Upon  my  crying  out,  Detervilie  cameup,  and  af- 
ter he  had  Ipoke  a  few  words  to  the  young  favage,  the 
latter,  clapping  one  hand  upon  his  flioulder,  fet  up  fuch 
a  laugh  as  quire  diitorted  his  figure.  The  Cacique  dii- 
engaged  himielf,  and,  blufhing,  ipoke  to  him  in  lu  cold 
a  tone,  that  the  young  man's  gaiety  vaniflied  :  he  leem- 
ed  to  have  no  more  to  lay,  and  retired  without  coming 
near  us  again.  O  my  dear  Aza,  what  a  relpe6l  do  the 
jTianncrs  of  this  countiy  make  me  have  for  tiioie  of  the 
children  of  the  Sun  !  How  does  the  temerity  of  the  young 
Anqiii  bring  back  to  my  mind  thy  tender  refpeii,  thy  lage. 
refer  ve,  and  the  charms  of  decency  that  reigned  in  our 
converfations !  I  perceived  it  the  firft  moment  I  faw 
thee,  dear  delight  of  my  Icul,  and  I  iliall  think  of  it  all 
the  days  of  my  life.  Thou  alone  unitcft  in  thyfelf  all 
the  pfrfeCtior.s  which  nature  has  flied  upon  mankind ; 
as  my  heart  has  coUeiled  within  it  all  the  fentiments  of 
tendenicfs  and  admiration  that  will  attach  me  to  thee  till 
death. 

LETTER  XV. 

To  Aza  ;   ckaraclers  of  Deter^viUe^   and  bis  Jijier  Celina ^ 

and  ffiotbtr )  prefents made  her. 

THE  more  I  fee  the  C.icique  and  his  lifter,  my  dear 
Aza,  the  more  difficulty  I  have  to  perfuade  my- 
felf  they  are  of  this  nation :  they  alone  know  what 
virtue  is,  and  refpefl  it.  The  fimple  manners,  the  na- 
tive goodneis,  and  the  modeft  g-aiety  of  Celina,  would 
make  one  think  Ihe  had  been  bred  up  among  our  virgins. 
The  honeft  Iweetnels,  the  ferious  tendernels  of  her  bro- 
ther, v/ould  eafiiy  perfuade  me  that  he  was  born  of  the 
blood  of  the  Incas.  They  both  treat  me  with  as  much 
humanity  as  we  fliould  fnew  them,  if  like  misfortunes 
iiad  brought  them  among  us. 

I  do  not  doubt  but  the  Cacique  is  a  good  tributary. 
^  ^  He 


4^  THE    PERUVIAN    PRlfJCESS. 

He  never  enters  my  apartment:  but  he  makes  me  a  prefeht 
of  fomeof  the  wonderful  thmgs  with  which  this  country 
abounds.*  Sometimes  they  are  pieces  of  that  machine 
which  doubles  objefls,  enclofed  in  little  frames  of  curious 
martei-.  At  otlur  times  he  brings  me  little  ftones  of  fur- 
prizing  Juftre,  with  which  it  is  the  cuftom  here  to  adorn 
almoft  all  the  parts  of  the  body  :  They  hang  them  to  their 
ear?^  put  them  on  the  ftomach,  the  neck,  the  knees,  and 
even  the  fhoes  ;  all  v.hich  has  a  verv  agreeable  crfPeiSl. 

But  what  I  am  moil  amufed  with  arc  certain  fmali  ui^eri- 
fils  of  a  veiy  hard  metal,  and  moft  firigiilar  ufe.  Some 
are  employed  in  the  works  which  Celina  teaches  me  to 
make  -.  others,  of  a  cutting  form,  ferve  to  divide  all  forts 
of  fluffs,  of  which  we  make  as  many  bits  as  we  pleafe 
without  trouble,  and  in  a  ver^-  ingenious  diverting  man- 
ner, I  have  an  infinite  number  of  other  rarities  (lill  more 
extraordinary':  which  not  being  in  ufe  with  us,  I  can- 
not find  words  in  our  tongue  to  give  thee  an  idea  of  them. 
I  keep  ail  :hefe  gifts  carefully  for  thee,  mydear  Aza : 
belides  the  plcafure  thy  I'urp;  iie  will  give  me  when  thoii 
feeft  them,  they  undoubtediv  belong  to  thee.  If  the 
Cacique  was  not  fubjecl:  to  thy  obedience,  would  he  pay 
me  a  tribute  which  he  knows  to  be  due  only  to  thy  fu- 
preme  rank?  Tiie  refpcft  he  has  always fhewn  me,  made 
me  think  from  the  firft,  that  my  birth  was  knov.n  to  him  j 
and  the  prefents  he  now  honours  me  with  convince  me 
that  he  knows  I  am  to  be  thy  fpoule,  lince  he  treats  me 
already  as  a  Mama  OelJ't.f 

Tins  convi6tion  revives  me,  and  calms  a  part  of  my 
inquietudes.  I  conceive  that  ncthimg  is  wanting,  but 
the  r.cv/er  of  exprefling  myfelf,  for  me  to  be  infoimed 
what  are  the  Caciques  reafons  for  keeping  me,  and  to 
determine  him  to  deliver  me  into  thy  power :  but,  till 
that  can  be,  I  have  a  great  many  pains  to  fuifer.     The 

humour 
*  The  Caciques  and  Curacas  were  obliged  to  fivnini  the  drefs 
and  provifionofthe  i.ica  and  the  queen.     Ihey  never  came  into 
the  pretence  of  either  without:  offering  them  ibine  tribute  of  the 
curiofKies  of  the  province  they  commaJided. 

•f  This  is  the  name  the  cjustDs  take  when  they  afcendthe  thione. 


THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS.  4.7 

luimour  of  Madame  (lb  they  call  Dcterville's  mother)  is 
r.ot  ntar  fo  amiable  as  that  of  her  children.  Far  from 
tiearing  me  wich  To  much  goodneis,  fhe  fhcws  me  on  all 
occjlions  a  coldnels  and  dildain  that  mortifies  me,  though 
I  ca:i  neieher  remedy  nor  dilcover  the  cauie  of  it  j  and  yet 
by  an  oppohtion  of  fentiments  that  I  undcrftand  ftill  IciSj 
ftie  requires  to  have  me  continually  with  her. 

This  gives  me  iuiupportable  torture;  for  conftralnt 
reigns  wherever  {\\c  is,  and  it  is  only  by  itealth  that  Ce- 
lina  and  her  brother  give  me  figns  of  their  friendihip.— 
Triey  do  not  ^hemfelves  dare  to  fpeak  ireely  before  her  j 
for  which  leafon  they  fpend  part  of  their  nights  in  my 
chamber,  which  is  the  only  time  we  enjoy  in  peace  the 
pleafure  of  feting  or.e  another.  Though  I  cannot  partake 
of  their  converiation,  their  preience  is  always  agreeable 
to  me.  It  is  not  for  want  ot  care  in  either  of  them  that 
I  am  not  happy.  Alas  1  mydear  Aza,  they  are  ignorant 
that  I  cannot  bear  to  be  remote  from  tnee,  and  that  I  do 
not  think  myfeif  to  live,  except  when  the  remembidnce  of 
thee,  and  my  tendernefs  employ  me  entirely. 

LETTER 'xvi. 

To  Aza  :  laments  that  her  ^ipos  are  almofi  ujedy  and 

begins  to  learn  to  read;  Jets  a  French  tragedy. 

I  HAVE  fo  few  Quipos  left,  my  dear  Aza,  that  I  fcarce 
dare  ufe  them.  VVhen  I  would  go  to  knotting  them 
the  diead  of  feeing  an  end  of  them  If  ops  me  j  as  ir  I  could 
iiiultiply  by  fpavmg  them.  I  am  going  to  lofe  the  plea- 
fure  of  my  foul,  the  i'upport  of  my  life  ;  nothing  can  re- 
lieve the  weight  of  thy  abfence,  which  muft  now  weigh 
niedown.  I  tailed  a  delicate  pleafure  in  preierving  the  re- 
membrance of  the  molt  fccret  motions  of  my  heart  to  offer 
thee  its  homage.  My  deiign  was  to  prel"en-e  the  nremory 
ol  the  principal  cufronis  of  this  iuiguiar  nation,  toamuJe 
thy  leil'ure  with  in  m.ore  happy  times.  Alas!  I  have 
little  hopes  now  left  of  executing  my  project.  If  I  find 
at  prelent  lb  muchdimculty  in  patting  n-.y  ideas  into  or- 
der, how  fliall  I  hereafter  rccal  them  without  foreign 
afliitance  ?  "■  Tis  tine  they  off^r  me  one  ;  but  the  execu- 
tion of  it  is  lb  diiiicuk,  that  1  think  it  impoffible. 

The 


48  THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS. 

The  C:iciquehas  brought  meone  of  this  country  fava- 
ges,  who  comes  daily  to  give  inc  Itllons  in  his  tongue, 
?.ndto  flievvmc  the  method  of  giving  a  fort  of  exilienceto 
our  thoughts.  This  is  done  by  drawing  fmall  figures, 
which  they  call  letLers,  with  a  feather  upon  a  thin  mat- 
ter called  paper.  Thefe  figures  have  names,  and  tiiofe 
names  put  together  repreient  the  found  of  words.  But 
thefe  names  and  lounds  lirem  to  me  fo  little  diftincl  from 
one  another,  that,  if  I  do  in  time  fucceed  in  learning 
them,  I  am  lure  it  will  not  be  without  a  great  deal  of  pains. 
This  poor  favage  takes  an  incredible  deal  of  trouble  to  teach 
me,  and  I  give  mylelf  more  to  learn  :  yet  I  make  fo  little 
progrefs,  that  I  would  renounce  the  enterprize,  if  I  knew 
any  other  way  to  inform  mylelf  of  thy  fate  and  mine. 

There  is  nu  other,  my  dear  Aza,  therefore  my  whole 
•delight  is  now  in  this  new  and  fmgular  lludy.  I  would 
.  live  alone :  all  that  I  fee  difpleales  me,  and  the  neceflity 
impoled  on  me  of  being  always  in  Madame's  apartment 
gives  me  great  torment.  At  firft,  by  exciting  the  curi-  ' 
ofity  of  others,  I  amufed  my  own  :  but,  where  the  e^'es 
only  are  to  be  ufed,  they  are  foon  to  be  fatisfied.  All 
the  women  are  alike,  have  Itill  the  fame  manners,  and  I 
think  they  always  fpeak  the  fame  words.  The  appear- 
ances are  moie  varied  ainong  tl^e  jr.en  :  fome  of  them  look 
as  if  they  thought:  but,  in  general,  I  fuipe6l  this  nation 
not  to  be  what  it  appears ;  for  attc6lation  leems  to  be  its 
ruling  charafter.  If  the  demonftrations  of  zeal  and  ear- 
njlhiefs,  with  which  the  molt  trilling  duties  of  fociety 
are  here  graced,  were  natural,  thefe  people,  my  dear  Aza, 
muft  certainly  have  in  their  hearts  more  goodnefs  and 
humanity  than  ours  :  and  who  can  think  this  poflible  ? 

If  they  had  as  much  lerenity  in  the  foul  as  upon  tiie 
countenance,  if  the  propenfity  to  joy,  which  I  remark  in 
all  their  a6lions,  was  Imcere,  would  they  chule  lOr  their 
amufement  fuch  fpe6\acles  as  they  have  carried  me  to 
fee? 

They  condu(Sted  me  into  a  place  where  were  reprefented, 
akioll  as  in  thy  palace,  the  alliens  of  men  who  are  no 

more. 


THE    PERUVIAN   PRINCESS.  49 

more*  But  as  we  revive  only  the  memory  of  the  moft 
wife  and  virtuous,  I  believe  only  madmen  and  villains 
are  rcprelenteti  here.  Thole  v/ho  perlbnated  them  rnved 
and  Itormcd  as  it  they  were  wild  5  and  I  fawonect'them 
carry  his  iury  lb  high  as  to  kili  himlelt.  The  fine  women, 
whom  /eemingly  they  perfecuted,  wept  inccfiantly,  and 
fhewed  iiich  tokens  of  delpair,  that  the  words  they  made 
life  of  were  not  neceflaiy  to  Drew  the  excels  of  their  an- 
guilh.  Could  one  think,  my  dear  Aza,  that  a  whole 
people,  whofe  outlideis  i'o  humane,  fliouid  be  pleafed  at 
the  reprefentation  of  thofe  misfortunes  or  crimes,  which 
either  ovei-vvhelmed  or  degraded  creatures  like  themfelves  ? 
But  perhaps  they  have  occafion  here  for  the  horror  of 
vice  tocondutTt  them  to  virtue.  This  thought  llartsupon 
nie  unfought;  and  if  it  were  true,  how  fliouid  I  pity 
liich  a  nation?  Ours,  more  favoured  by  nature,  cheriilics 
goodnefs  for  its  ov.ai  chaims  :  we  vrant  only  models  of 
virtue  to  make  us  virtuous  ;  as  nothing  is  requifite  but 
to  love  thee  in  order  to  become  amiable. 

LETTER  XVII. 
To  Aza  :  a»  opera  defcribed,  '-'-dk  refieaions  on  fpeech 
and  r/iujic,  Gfr. 

I  KNOW  not  what  farther  to  think  of  the  genius  of 
this  nation,  my  dear  Aza.  It  iTins  through  the  ex- 
tremes with  fuch  rapidity,  that  it  requires  more  ability 
than  I  poflefs  to  fit  in  judgment  upon  its  character. — 
They  have  fhewn  me  a  fpedacle  entirely  oppofite  to  the 
fomier.  That,  cruel  and  frightful,  made  reaibn  re- 
volt, and  humbled  humanity  :  this,  amufmg  and  agreea- 
ble, imitates  nature,  and  does  honour  to  good-lVnfe. — 
It  was  compoled  of  a  great  many  more  m.en  and  women 
than  the  former  :  they  reprefented  alio  fome  actions  of 
human  lite  j  but  whether  they  exprtffcd  pain  or  plea- 
lure,  joy  or  forrow,  the  whole  was  done  by  fongs  and 
dances.  The  intelligence  of  founds,  my  dear  Ar.a, 
muil  be  univerfal :  for  I  found  it  no  more  ditlicult  to  be 

*  T  he  Incas  caufcd  a  kind  of  comedies  to  be  reprefented,  the 
fubjecls  of  which  were  taken  from  the  brighteft  adtions  of  their 
predeceflbre.  E  aftl-£lcd 


ZO  THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS, 

sffccled  with  the  diiterent  palFions  th.it  were  reprefented, 
than  it"  they  had  been  exprefled  in  our  language.  T.ins 
ieenis  to  nie  very  natural.  Human  Ipeecn  is  doubtlels 
ot"  man's  invention,  becaule  it  differs  according  to  the 
difference  of  nations.  Nature,  more  powcrtul,  ajid 
more  attentive  to  the  neceflities  and  pleafurcs  ci"  iicr  crea- 
tures, lias  given  them  general  means  of  exprefli ng^ them, 
which  are  well  imitated  by  the  fongs  I  i;ieard.  If  it  'oe 
true  that  faarp  Ibunds  exprefs  better  the  need  of  help,  in 
violent  fear,  or  acute  pain,  than  words  underltood  in 
one  part  of  the  world,  and  v/hich  have  no  hgnificatioa 
in  another ;  it  is  not  lei's  certain  that,  the  tender  fighs 
ftrike  our  hearts  with  a  more  efficacious  conipaifion  than 
words,  the  odd  arrangement  of  which  fonietuues  pro.Ju- 
ces  juft  a  contrary  efFeft.  Do  not  lively  and  light  ibuixls 
inevitably  excite  in  cur  foul  that  gay  plealure,  v/hich 
the  recital  of  a  dlvertuig  ifory,  or  a  joke  properly  in- 
troduced, can  but  imperfeftly  raife.  Are  there  expref- 
(lons  in  any  language  that  can  communicate  genuine 
pleafure  with  lb  much  fuccefs  as  the  natural  iports  of  ani- 
mals ?  Dancing  feems  an  humble  imitation  ot  them,  and 
infpires  much  the  fame  fentiyient.  In  fiiort,  my  dear 
Aza,  every  thing  in  this  laif  fliow  was  conformsble  to 
nature  and  humanity.  Can  any  benefit  be  conferred  on 
man,  equal  to  that  of  infpiring  him  with  joy  ?  I  felt  it 
mylelf,  and  was  tranlported  by  it  in  Ipite  of  me,  when 
I  was  interrupted  by  an  accident  that  happened  to  Ce- 
iina.  As  we  came  out,  we  (tepped  a  little  afide  from 
tlie  crowd,  and  leaned  on  one  another  for  fear  of  falling, 
Deterville  was  fome  paces  before  us  leading  his  filler-in- 
Jaw  J  when  a  young  favaige,  of  an  amiable  figure,  came 
up  to  Celina,  whifpered  a  few  words  to  her  very  low, 
gave  her  a  bit  of  paper,  which  fhe  fcarce  had  Ilrength  to 
take,  and  retired. 

Celina,  who  was  fo  frightened  at  his  approach, 
nsto  make  mc  partake  of  her  trembling,  turned  her  head 
languiHiingly  towaids  him  when  he  quitted  us.  She 
Itemed  fo  weak,  that,  fearing  flie  was  attacked  by  fome 
i\)dden  ilhicfs,  I  way  gouig  to  call  Deteiviile  to  her  af, 

fillaiice^. 


THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS.  5I 

f  *hnce :  but  ihe  ftoppeil  ire,  and,  by  putting  her  fin* 
gtr  vii  her  itioudi,  required  nie  to  be  lilent,  I  chofe  ra- 
ther to  be  uneai'v,  than  to  dilbbey  hei*.  The  ikme  even- 
ing, whtn  the  brother  and  h:ter  canie  into  my  chamber, 
Ceiina  fliewed  the  Cacique  the  paper  ihe  had  receivetii 
By  the  little  I  could  gueis  at  in  their  converiation,  I 
Ihould  have  thought  fh^  loved  the  young  man  who  gave 
it  her,  irit  had  been  ptjffible  tor  one  to  be  irightent.l  at 
the  preiVnce  of  what  one  loves.  J  have  made  other  re- 
marks, my  dear  Aza,  which  I  would  have  imparted  to 
thee  ;  but  alas !  my  Quipos  are  all  uled  ;  the  lait  threads 
are  in  my  hands,  and  I  am  knotting  the  lall  knots-  The 
knots,  which  teemed  to  me  a  chain  ©f  communication 
betwixt  my  heart  and  thine,  are  now  only  the  Ibrrowful 
objects  of  my  regret.  lilufion  quits  me  j  frighrfui  truth 
takes  her  place :  my  wandering  thoughts,  be  .vddered  in 
the  immenfe  void  of  ablence,  will  hereafter  be  annihi- 
lated v/lih  the  i'ame  rapidity  as  time.  Dear  Aza,  they 
leem  to  leparate  us  once  again,  and  fnatch  me  afreih 
from  thy  love.  I  lofethee!  I  quit  thee!  I  (hall  fee  thee 
no  morel  Aza,  dear  hope  of  my  heart,  how  diftant  m- 
deed  are  wc  now  to  be  removed  from  each  other  I 
LETTER  XVIII. 
To  Aza  :  jte  begins  to  ^^-ite  ker  ohjer--vations» 

HOW  much  oi  my  time  has  been  effaced,  my  deai' 
Aza  !  the  Sun  has  run  half  his  ccurfe  fmce  I  iait 
enjoyed  the  artificial  happinefs  of  believing  I  conv^ened 
with  thee.  How  tedious  has  this  double  abfence  appear- 
ed 1  What  ccxjrage  did  I  want  to  fupport  it  1  I  lived  in 
futui  ity  only,  ana  the  prefent  time  did  not  feem  worthy 
to  be  compute:!.  All  ray  thoughts  were  nothing  but 
deiires,  my  retlcciicns  but  fo  many  projects,  ar.d  my 
fcntiments  but  a  kries  of  hopes.  Scaixe  have  I  leamed 
to  fonn  theie  hgxires,  ai~l  yet  I  will  try  to  make  them 
the  inter-pretersof  my  pailion.  I  feel  myfelr  reanimated 
by  this  amiable  e!>ipio\'ment :  reitored  to  nn-i'elr,  I  be- 
gin to  live  again.  Aza,  how  dear  art  tl^.ou!  what  de- 
light do  I  take  in  telling  thee  fo,  in  painting  thefe  fen- 
timents,  and  giving  them  all  poflible  means  of  exiitence  I 
E  2  I  would 


52  THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS. 

I  would  trace  them  upon  the  hardcli:  metal,  upon  the 
walls  of  my  chamber,  upon  my  garments,  upon  all  that 
iurrounds  me,  and  exprels  them  in  all  languages .  How 
fatal,  alas,  has  the  knowledge  of"  the  language  I  now 
ule  been  to  me  1  How  dtceitt'ul  was  the  hope  that  pre- 
vailed on  me  to  learn  it !  Scarce  had  I  got  acquainted 
withitljuta  new  univerle  opened  to  my  eye  j  objefts 
took  another  form,  and  every  liglit  I  gained  dilcovercd 
to  me  a  new  misfortune.  My  mind,  my  heart,  my 
eyes,  the  Sun  himfelf  has  deceived  me.  He  enlightens 
the  whole  world,  of  which  thy  empire,  and  the  various 
kingdoms  that  own  thy  fupremacyj  ai'e  a  portion  only. 
Do  not  think,  my  dear  Aza,  that  they  have  impoled 
upon  me  in  thcfe  incredible  facts,  v/hich  they  have  but 
too  well  proved.  Far  from  being  among  people  fub- 
je61ed  to  thy  obedience,  lam  not  only  under  foreign  do- 
minion, but  i'o  prodigioully  remote  from  thy  empire, 
that  our  nation  had  (till  been  unknown  here,  if  the 
avarice  of  the  Spaniards  had  not  made  them  furmount 
the  moll  hideous  dangers  to  come  at  us.  Will  not  love 
do  as  much  as  a  thirit  of  riches  has  done  ?  If  thou  loveft 
me,  if  thou  delirelt  me,  if  thou  only  thinkeft  yet  of  the 
unhappy  Zilia,  I  have  every  thing  to  expe6l  from  thy 
tendernefs  and  generofity.  Let  them  teach  me  the  roads 
that  lead  to  thee,  and  the  perils  to  be  lurmounted,  or 
the  fatigues  to  be  borne,  ftiall  be  Co  many  pleafures  to 
my  paffionate  heait. 

LETTER  XIX. 

To  Aza:  /he  nvrites  more  of  ker  difco-jeries  ;  Jhe  and 

Ccliiiajhut  up  in  a.  nunnery, 

I  AM  as  yet  lb  very  imperfeft  in  tiie  art  of  writing, 
that  it  takes  me  up  abundance  of  time  to  form  only 
a  few  lines.  Often  it  happens,  my  dear  Aza,  that, 
after  having  written  much,  I  c.anot  my felf  divine  what 
I  have  endeavoured  to  exprefs.  This  perplexity  con- 
founds my  ideas,  and  makes  me  forget  what  I  had  with 
pain  1  evolved  in  my  memory.  I  begin  again,  do  no 
better,  and  yet  I  proceed.  Tlie  talk  would  be  more 
ealy  to  me,  if  I  had  nothing  to  give  theebut  exprcflioiis 

of 


THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS.  53 

of  my  tenderntri's :  the  vivacity  otmy  JenLiments  wouJ(i 
rhen  funnount  :^11  difficulties.  But  I  would  alio  render 
tliee  an  accoiuit  of  all  that  has  pafled  during  the  long  in* 
terval  of  tiiy  filence.  I  would  not  have  thee  ignorant  of 
any  of  my  aclions  j  and  yet  of  fo  little  importance,  Jo 
little  uniform  have  they  a  long  time  been,  that  it  would 
be  impclTiWe  for  me  to  diftinguifli  one  from  another. — 
The  principal  event  of  my  life  has  been  Deterville's  de- 
parture. As  long  ago  as  tb.ey  call  here  fix  months,  he 
has  been  gone  to  war  for  the  interell  of  his  Ibvereign. 
When  he  fet  out,  I  did  not  then  know  his  language: 
but,  by  the  lively  grief  he  difcovered  at  parting  from  his 
filter  and  me,  I  under ftcod  that  we  were  going  to  lofe 
liim  for  a  long  time.  I  ihed  many  tears  ;  a  thoufand 
fears  filled  my  heart,  left  the  kindnefs  of  Celina  fhould 
wear  off.  In  Ifira  I  loil  the  moll  folid  hope  of  leeing 
thee  again.  To  whom  could  I  have  had  recourfe,  if 
any  new  misforcunes  had  happened  to  me  r  Nobody  un- 
derftccd  my  language.  It  was  not  long  before  I  felt 
the  effects  of  his  abfcnce.  Madame,  his  mother,  whofe 
contempt  I  had  but  toojulfly  gueficd  at  (and  who  had 
n«t  kept  me  fo  much  in  her  chamber,  but  to  indulge  the 
vanity  il-.t  conceived  on  account  of  my  birth,  and  the 
power  fhe  had  over  m^e)  caufed  me  to  be  flmt  up  with 
Celina  in  a  houfe  or  virgins,  where  we  now  are.  The 
life  that  wc  lead  here  is  fo  very  uniform,  tl'iat  it  can 
pioduce  but  inconliderable  events. 

This  retreat  would  not  diipleafe  me  if  it  had  not  de- 
prived me  (juit  as  I  began  to  be  initiated)  of  the  in- 
muclions  I  wanted  to  carry  on  my  defign  of  coming  to 
thee.  The  virgins  that  live  here  are  fo  profoundly  ig- 
n.crant,  that  they  cannot  fatisfy  my  molt  trifling  inqui- 
ries. The  worliiip  which  they  lender  to  the  divinity 
of  the  counriv  requires  that  they  fliould  renounce  all  his 
benefits,  all  intelligence  of  the  mind,  all  the  I'entiments 
of  the  heart,  and  I  think  even  leafon  itfelf,  if  one  m.ay 
judge  from  their  difcourfe.  Though  fhut  up  like  ours, 
thefe  vi-cgins  have  cue  advantage  that  is  not  to  he  found 
in  th^  tiin-^l'^  of  the  Sun.  'The  J^'alls  are  open  here  in 
E   :;  .        feveral 


54  THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS, 

feveial  places,  and  lecured  only  by  ciuis  bars  of  iron,  lu 
dole  that  they  cannot  be  got  between.  By  thelc  places, 
wiiich  are  called  Parlours,  they  have  the  liberty  ot'con- 
vcrling  with  neribns  who  arc  without.  It  is  through  one 
of  thele  convenient  places  that  I  continue  to  have  my 
writing  lefTons.  I  fpealc  to  nobody  but  the  malter  who 
gives  them  to  me ;  and  his  Ignorance,  in  every  thing 
but  his  art,  is  not  like  to  refcue  me  out  of  mine.  Ce- 
lina  leems  no  better  informed  than  the  reft :  in  the  an- 
I'wers  ftie  gives  to  my  queftions,  I  obferve  a  certain 
perplexity,  which  can  proceed  from  nothing  but  either 
awkward  difiimulation,  or  profound  ignorance.  Which 
Toever  it  be,  her  converfation  is  always  confined  to  the 
affairs  of  her  ovm  heart,  and  thole  of  her  family. 

The  young  Frenchman  who  ipoke  to  her  as  we  cams 
out  from  the  fmging  entertainment,  is  her  lover,  as  I 
gueifed  before.  But  Madame  Deterville,  who  will  not 
let  them  come  together,  forbids  her  leeing  him  j  and, 
the  more  etFeiTtually  to  hinder  her,  will  not  permit  her 
to  Ipeak  to  any  perfon  whatibever  without.  Not  that 
the  choice  Is  unworthy  of  her,  but  this  vain  and  unna- 
tural mother,  taking  advantage  of  a  barbaious  cuftoni 
eftabjiihcd  among  the  great  in  tliis  country,  obliges  Ce- 
iina  to  pftjt  on  the  virgin's  habit,  in  order  to  make  her 
eldert  Ion  the  richer.  From  the  fame  motive  Cue  has 
obliged  Deterville  to  enter  into  a  particular  order,  from 
which  he  cannot  be  difengaged  after  he  has  pronounced 
Certain  words  called  Vows.  Celina,  with  ail  herpower^ 
oppoles  the  facrifice  thev  would  make  of  her:  her  cou- 
rage is  fupported  by  her  lover's  letters,  v/hich  I  receive 
from  my  writing  maitcr,  and  deliver  to  her.  Yet  her 
vexation  fo  alters  lier  chaia6ter,  that,  far  from  fiieu-ing 
me  the  fame  kindncfs  Ihe  did  before  I  Ipuke  her  tongue, 
(ht  fpreads  llich  a  fournefs  over  all  our  convcrlation,  as 
renders  my  forrows  the  more  acute.  Her  tioubles,  of 
Av'iich  I  am  the  j->erpetual  confidante,  I  hear  without 
dilgult :  I  bewail  them  witliout  art,  and  comfort  her 
with  *r;endfliip :  but  if  my  tenlernefs,  awakened  by 
th.-  picluri  of  herS;  drives  me  to  leek  cai'e  to  n\v  or- 

preiTed 


THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCFSS.  55 

p;'efl"ed  heart  by  only  pronouncing  ihy  name,  inipati- 
er.ce  and  cnnttnnpt  are  iirmediateiy  painted  in  her  coun- 
tenance j  ft^.e  diipuies  thy  undcrllanding,  thy  virtues, 
and  even  thy  love.  My  very  China  (I  have  no  otJier 
E  Line  for  her,  this  having  fo  plealed  that  it  has  been 
continued)  my  China,  who  leemed  to  love  me,  who 
obeyed  me  in  all  things,  takes  the  liberty  to  exhort  me 
to  think  no  more  ct  thee,  or  leaves  me,  if  I  bid  her  be 
filent.  Celina  then  comes  in,  and  I  mull  hide  my  re- 
kntment.  This  tyrannical  co;illraint  heightens  all  my 
misfortunes.  I  have  nothing  left  but  the  painful  fatis- 
fa6l;ion  of  covering  this  paper  witli  expreilions  of  my 
t.ndenicfs,  it  being  the  only  decile  wltnefs  of  the  fcn- 
timents  of  my  heart.  Alas  !  perhaps  the  pains  I  take 
are  ulelefs ;  perhaps  thou  wilt  never  know  that  I  lived 
for  thee  alone.  This  horrible  thought enfeebits  my  cou- 
rage, yet  does  not  interrupt  my  delign  of  continuing  to 
write  to  thee.  I  preferve  my  illufion,  that  I  may  pre- 
feiTe  m.y  life  for  thee.  I  banifh  the  cruel  reaion  that 
would  inform  me.  If  I  did  not  hope  to  fee  thee  again, 
I  am  fure,  mv  dear  Aza,  I  Ihculd  perifh  i  for  life  with- 
out thee  is  a  torment  to  me. 

LETTER  XX. 
To  At.  A  :  remarks  en  the  French  cuficrns. 

HITHERTO,  mv  dear  Aza,  intent  only  about  the 
afth6iions  of  mv  heart.  I  have  faid  nothing  to  thee 
concerning  thofe  of  my  underllanding :  yet  thefe  are  not 
tlie  lefs  cruel,  became  I  have  omitted  them.  I  experi- 
ence one  of  a  kind  imknown  among  us,  and  which  no- 
thing but  the  equivocal  genius  cf  this  nation  could  in- 
vent. Tlie  government  of  this  empire,  quite  oppofire  to 
That  of  thine,  miiil  needs  be  defective.  Whereas  the 
Capa  Ir.ca  is  obliged  to  provide  fortiie  fubfitlenccof  his 
people,  in  Europe  t'r.e  fovereigns  fubfilt  only  on  the  la- 
bours of  their  fubjefts:  whence  it  is  that  molt  of  the 
Climes  and  misfortunes  proceed  here  from  imlatisfied  nc- 
ccifities.  The  m.isfortunes  of  the  ncblcb  in  general,  ariie 
from,  the  difficulties  they  are  ur.dcr  to  reconcile  tiieir  ap- 
paient  msgnificencs  vsith  tlicir  real  milcry.  The  com- 
mon 


56  THE   PERUriAN    PRINCESS, 

mon  people  fupport  their  condition  by  what  is  called  com- 
merce or  ir.duiby,  the  leaft  evil  ar.iing  iVoiii  which  is  in- 
fincerify^  Part  or  the  people,  in  order  to  live,  are  obliged 
To  depend  on  the  humanity  of  others;  and  that  is  lb 
bounded,  that  fcarce  have  thofe  wretches  Sufficient  to  keep 
tbtm  alive. 

Without  gold,  it  is  impoHible  to  acquire  any  part  of 
that  land  which  nature  h?.s  given  in  common  to  all  men. 
VV^ithout  poflliTing  what  they  call  wealth,  it  is  impoffi- 
We  to  have  gold;  and,  by  a  t'alfe  conlequence,  repugnant 
to  realbn  and  natural  light,  thisleniekls  people,  thinking 
it  a  fhame  to  receive  from  any  other  than  the  fovereign 
the  means  of  life,  and  the  lupport  of  dignity,  give  that 
lovereign  an  opportunity  of  fnoweniig  down  his  iiberaii- 
ties  on  io  fmall  a  number  of  his  fubjeils,  in  compariibn 
with  thoie  that  are  miil-rable,  that  there  would  be  as 
much  foily  in  pretending  to  any  ihare  in  them,  as  there 
would  be  ignominy  in  obtaining  deliverance  by  death 
from  the  impoiribihty  of  living  without  fliame.  Tlie 
knowledge  of  th-fe  woful  truths  excited  in  my  heart  at 
fidt  only  pity  for  the  miierablc  wretches,  and  indignation 
againft  the  laws.  Eat  alas  !  'now  many  cruel  reflections 
does  the  contemptuous  manner,  in  which  I  hear  them 
fpeak  of  thofe  that  are  not  rich,  caufeme  to  make  on  my- 
fcJ.f !  ]  have-neither  gold,  nor  I'.-.nd,  nor  addrefs,  and  yet 
I  necclTarily  make  a  part  of  the  citizens  of  this  place. 

0  heaven  !   in  what  ciafs  muit  I  rank  myfelf  ?     Though 

1  am  a  Ifranger  to  all  Icntiment  of  tliame,  which  does  not 
aiife  fVom  a  fault  committed;  though  I  perceive. hew 
foclifli  it  is  to  blufla  forc?.u!es  indepc-ndent  of  my  power 
and  my  will ;  I  cannot  helpiiifferlrg  from  the  idea  which 
others  have  of  m.e.  This  pain  would  be  infypportable 
to  me,  if  I  did  not  hope  that  thy  gcntrofity  will  one  day 
put  me  in  a  condirion  to  recompenie  thofe,  who,  in  ipite 
of  me,  humble  me  by  benefits  witli  which  I  once  thought 
mylelf  honoured.  Not  that  Celina  omits  any  thing  in 
htr  power  to  calm  my  inquietudes  in  this  rel'peft :  but 
what  I  Jee,  what  I  iearn  of  th:;i  country,  gives  me  a  ge- 
KeraJ  diHi  Jtcce  of  rhcir  v/cids.     Their  virtues,  my  duir 

Aza. 


THE    PERUVIAK    PRINCESS.  57 

Aza,  have  no  more  reality  than  their  ri:hes.  The  move- 
ables, which  I  thought  were  of  gold,  hiveonlv  a  thin  I'u- 
perficies  of  that  metal,  their  trae  fiibftance  being  wood. 
In  like  manner  what  they  call  polltenels  hns  all  the  out- 
ward forms  of  virtue,  and  lightly  veils  over  their  fiuilts: 
but,  v.'th  a  little  attention,  the  aitifice  of  this  is  difcovered, 
as  well  as  their  falfe  riches. 

I  owe  part  cf  this  knowledge  to  a  fort  of  writing  they" 
call  books.  Though  I  found  it  very  difficult  to  compre- 
liend  what  they  contain,  they  have  been  of  great  ufe  to  me : 
I  extract  notions  from  them  ;  Celina  explains  to  me  what 
/he  knows,  and  I  form  fuch  ideas  as  I  think  aie  juft. 
Some  of  thefe  books  teach  me  wliat  men  have  done,  and 
others  what  they  have  thought.  I  cannot  explain  to  thee, 
my  dear  Aza,  the  exquifite  pleafure  I  fhould  take  in  read- 
ing them,  if  I  did  but  underftand  them  better  j  nor  the 
extreme  defire  I  have  to  know  fome  of  thofe  divine  men 
who  compofe  them.  As  they  are  to  the  foul  what  the 
fun  is  to  the  earth,  I  fliould  with  them  find  all  the  lights, 
all  the  helps  I  want :  but  I  fee  no  hope  of  ever  having 
that  fatxsfaclion.  Though  Celina  reads  pretty  often,  (he 
is  not  knowing  enough  to  latisfy  me.  As  if  fhe  had 
never  refle6led  that  bocks  were  made  by  men,  fhe  is  ig- 
norant of  their  very  names,  and  feem  not  to  have  rcfleft- 
ed  tliat  fuch  men  ever  lived.  I  will  convey  to  thee,  my 
dear  Aza,  all  that  I  can  colle£l  froin  their  wonderful 
works  ;  I  will  explain  them  in  our  language,  and  fhall 
tafte  fupremie  felicity  in  giving  anew  pleafure  to  himi  I 
love.  Alas !  fiiall  I  ever  be  able  to  perfoi'm  mvpromiie. 
LETTER  XXI, 

To  Aza  :  he-r  f.rft  con~jerfaiion  ivHh  a  religions  man. 

I  SHALL  not  for  the  funire  want  matter  to  entertain 
thee  my  dear  Aza:  they  have  let  me  fpeak  to  a  Cu- 
cipata,  whom  thav  call  a  religious  man,  who  knows 
every  tlnng,  and  has  promifed  to  leave  me  ignorant 
of  nothing.  As  polite  as  a  ereat  lord,  as  learned  as 
an  Amutas,  he  knows  as  well  the  cuftoms  of  the  world 
as  the  tenets  ol  his  religion.  His  converfation,  more 
uferul  tiian  a  bock,   l»3  given  me  a  f3tisfa6lion  which  I 

h.vA 


S^  Tl4E  PrRUVlAN    tRINCilSS. 

had  not  taftcd  hues  my  inisibrtunes  ieparated  mr  fiom 
thee.  He  came  to  teach  me  the  religion  of  France,  and 
exhort  me  to  embrace  it :  which  I  would  willingly  have 
done,  it  I  had  been  well  afluied  that  he  gave  me  a  pi6lure 
of  it.  According  to  what  he  faid  to  me  of  the  virtues 
ic  prefcribes,  they  are  drawn  from  the  law  of  nature,  and 
not  lefs  pure  in  fadft  than  ours  :  but  I  have  not  penetra- 
tion enough  to  perceive  here  that  agreem.ent,  which  the 
manners  and  cuftomS  of  a  nation  rtiould  have  with  their 
religion  :  on  the  contrary,  I  find  fuch  a  want  of  conr.exion 
betwixt  thefe,  that  my  reafon  abfolutely  rtfufes  to 
believe  my  inltruclor. 

Witii  regard  to  the  oiigln  and  principles  of  this  reli- 
gion, they  (lid  not  appear  to  me  either  more  incredible, 
or  more  inccnipatable  with  gcotl  fenfe,  than  the  hiftory 
of  Mancocapac  and  the  lake  Tificaca*-.  I  fhoiild  therefore 
have  been  readv  to  embrace  it,  if  the  Cucipata  hati  not 
indignantly  defpifed  the  woiHup  which  we  render  to  the 
Sun.  Partiality  of  any  kind  deftroys  confidence.  I 
might  have  applied  to  his  arguments  what  he  oppofed  to 
mine:  but  if  the  laws  of  humanity  forbid  to  ftrlke  ano- 
ther, becaufe  it  is  doing  him  an  injury,  there  is  more  rea- 
fon why  one  (hould  not  hurt  the  icul  of  another  by  a  con- 
tempt of  his  opinions.  I  contented  myfelf  with  cxpliin- 
hig  to  him  n^.y  I'tntim.ents,  but  did  not  attempt  to  con- 
tradi6f  his.  JBcf.des,  amore  deai  ^vrrer!"  -^-vlVcd  me  to 
change  the  fubje^l  of  our  conva-fation.  i  interrupted 
him  as  focn  as  pcfTible,  to  afk  how  far  the  city  of  Paris 
was  frozn  that  of  Cuzcn ;  and  whetl.cr  it  was  pcihble 
to  get  from  one  to  the  other.  Tlie  Ccipata  latisfied 
mt  kindly  j  and  though  the  dillancc  he  tcldm-e  there  was 
betv/ixt  the  two  cities  was  encueh  to  make  me  delpair: 
though  he  made  me  look  on  the  ditr.culty  of  performing 
this  voyage  as  almcft  infurmounrablc  j  it  was  lufficient 
for  me  to  know  that  the  thing  was  pclTible,  in  order 
to  confirm  my  courage,  and  give  nie  ci.  nfidcnce  to  ccm- 
municate  my  dtfign  to  the  good  rather.  Kc  kerned  afto- 
.j^ifticd,  and  efidcavoured  to  divert  mie  from  my  projefl 

,  vi'ith 

*  See  the  hiitorv  of  the  Ir.cas, 


THE    PERUVIAN  PRINCE*!?.  ^rf 

vlth  fnch  tender  worcls,  rhat  I  was  aftecled  myfelf  at 
hearing  the  dangeii  I  wn^  to  be  expoied  to  :  but  my  re- 
I'okition  however  was  unlhaken,  and  I  prayed  the  Cuci- 
pata,  in  the  warmed  manner,  to  teach  me  the  means  of 
rtlmning  into  my  country.  Me  wouid  not  enter  into 
particulars,  and  oniy  told  niethat  DeterVille,  by  his  liigh 
birth  and  peri'onal  merit,  being  in  great  credit,  might  do 
what  he  would  fcr  ine  j  and  that  havn  g  an  uncle  all  p-«'.v- 
criul  at  tlie  court  ol  Sp;--ir:,  he  could  »nore  eaiily  than  any 
man  procure  rr.-  news  from  our  unhappy  country. 

The  bettiei  v.  lietermine  me  to  wait  for  his  return 
(whicli  iie  ..iiuird  n  •:  to  be  ne.r  at  hand)  he  added,  that, 
after  the  obligations  I  had  to  this  generous  friend,  I 
could  r,ot  honourably  difpofe  of  myielt  without  his  con- 
fcnt.  I  ?!grced  with  him,  and  heard  with  plealure  the 
encomiur.iS  he  made  of  thofe  rare  qualities,  which  diilin- 
guiilKd  Deter\-ille  from  thofe  of  his  rank.  The  weight 
or  acknowledgment  is  very  light,  my  dear  Aza,  when  one 
receives  favours  only  from  the  hands  of  virtue.  The 
learned  man  informed  me  alio  how  chanct;  had  conduiicd 
the  Spaniards  to  thy  unfortunate  empire,  and  that  the 
thirlf  of  gold  was  the  ibk  caule  of  their  cruelty.  He 
then  explained  to  me  in  what  manner  the  rights  of  war 
had-cauled  me  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  Dcteiville,  by  a 
fight  in  which  he  was  viftorious,  after  having  taken  fe- 
veral  fliips  from  the  Spaniards,  and  among  them  that  in 
which  I  was  embarked.  In  fine,  my  dear  Aza,  if  he 
has  confirmed  my  misfortunes,  he  has  at  le-sft  drawn  me 
out  of  that  cruel  darknefs,  in  which  I  lived  with  regard 
to-all  thofe  extraordinary  events.  This  is  no  fmali  lo- 
Idcs  to  my  pains,  and  for  tiie  reft  I  wait  the  return  of 
Deterville-  He  is  humble,  noble,  virtuous,  and  I  may 
depend  upon  his  genercfity.  It  he  reftores  me  to  thee, 
vi'hat  a  benefit  i  what  ioy  !  what  happineis  1 — 
LETTER  XXII. 
To  Aza  :  the  p-'ujf  s fdcond  --uijit  Jifgufls  htr frrnplicitj . 

ITK  USTED,  my  de?.rAza,upon  maK.hig  me  a  iriend  ot 
the  learned  Cucipata  :  but  a  iecond  vifit  he  has  mads 
nie,  has  dcihoytd  liie  good  opWiion  i  lOinicd  of  him  ni 

the 


6o  THE    PEHUVIAN'    PRINCESS, 

the  firft:  in  fliort,  we  have  ahxady  diifered.  If  at  firfl: 
he  appeared  to  me  gentle  and  lincere,  this  time  1  found 
notmng  hut  rudenels  and  fahhood  in  all  he  laid  to  me. 
My  mind  being  ealy  with  regard  to  the  objeil  of  my  ten- 
dernels,  I  defired  to  fatisfy  my  curiofity  concerning  tlie 
wonderful  men  who  make  books:  I  began  by  inquiring 
what  rank  th^y  held  in  the  world,  what  veneration  was 
paid  to  them  j  in  fhart,  what  were  the  honours  and 
triumphs  decreed  to  ihcm  for  io  many  benefits  bellowed 
on  fociety. 

I  know  net  what  pleaiantry  theCucipata  found  in  my 
queftions,  but  he  fmiled  at  each  of  them,  and  aniwcrcd 
me  only  by  fuch  broken  fentences,  that  it  v/as  not  dilHcult 
for  mc  tofeehe  deceived  me.  In  facf,  ought  I  to  believe 
that  perfons,  who  know  and  paint  fo  well  the  fubtie  de- 
licacies of  virtue,  fiiould  not  have  more,  nay,  Ihould 
fometimes  have  Icfs  of  it  in  their  hearts  than  ot!ier  men  ? 
Can  I  believe  that  intereft  is  the  guide  of  a  labour  more 
than  human  j  and  that  fo  many  pains  are  rewarded  only 
by  railleries,  or  at  belt  by  a  little  money  ?  Can  I  perfuace 
myieif  that,  in  fo  hauglity  a  nation,  men  who  are  u^dil"- 
putably  above  others  by  the  Hglit  of  their  underftandmg, 
are  reduced  to  tlie  woetlil  ntcclfity  of  felling  their  thoughts, 
as  people  fell  for  bread  the  meanelt  piodutSlions  ot  the 
earth  ?  Fallhood,  n:;y  dear  Aza,  does  not  lefs  dilpleale 
me  wiien  under  the  tranlpajcat  nuiik  of  pleaiantry,  than 
when  under  the  thick  veil  of  iLducfion  :  that  of  the  fa- 
ther provoked  me,  and  I  did  not  deign  to  give  him  an 
aniwer.  Not  being  able  to  fatisfy  mylelf  in  this  relpect, 
I  turned  the  converiatlcn  again  to  the  project  oi  my 
voyage  j  but,  inltead  of  dilTuading  me  from  it  with  the 
lame  gcntlcnel's  as  before,  he  oppoled  Inch  Itrong  ami 
Convincing  rcafons  againlt  me,  that  I  had  nothing  but 
my  palHon  for  thee  to  combat  them  with,  and  I  made  no 
fcruple  of  confejfmg  as  much. 

At  tirlf  he  ailumed  a  gay  air;  and,  feeming  to  doubt 
the  truih  of  ir.y  words,  anfwered  only  by  jukes,  which, 
irifipid  as  they  were,  did  not  fail  of  oitcnding  me.  I  la- 
boured to  convii;cc  him  oi  rny  truths  but,  in  proportion 

as 


THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS.  6l 

as  the  expreflions  of  my  heart  proved  its  lentiments,  his 
count  enince  and  words  grew  levere.  He  daretl  to  tell 
me  that  my  love  For  thee  was  incompatible  with  viituej 
that  I  mull  renounce  one  or  the  other  j  in  ihoit,  that  I 
could  not  love  thee  withcxit  a  crime. 

At  thele  ienllleis  word»  the  moll  violent  wrath  took 
poflefiion  of  my  foul :  1  forgot  the  moderation  I  had 
prei'cribed  myielf:  I  loaded  him  With  reprojches  :  I  told 
him  what  I  thought  of  the  fallity  of  his  words  :  I  pro- 
tefted  to  him  a  thoufand  times  that  I  would  love  thee 
alwaysj  and,  without  waiting  tor  his  exculcs,  quitted  huu, 
and  ran  and  ihut  niyfelf  up  in  my  chamber,  whuher  I 
was  fure  he  could  not  follow  me.  OmydearAza!  how 
whimfical  is  the  reafon  of  this  country !  Always  incon- 
tradiflion  with  itfelf,  I  cannot  underiland  how  I  am  to 
obey  fome  of  its  precepts  without  thwarting  many  otners. 
It  agrees  in  general  that  to  do  good  is  the  firlt  viitue: 
it  approves  aclcnowiedgment,  arni  yet  preferves  ingrati- 
tude. It  would  be  1  -.udabie  in  me  ir  I  could  le-eitablslli 
thee  upon  the  throne  ot  thy  tathers  :  but  I  am  ciiminal 
in  prdeiving  for  thee  ibmethiiig  more  precious  than  the 
empires  of  tlie  world. 

They  would  commend  me  if  I  could  recompenfe  thy 
benefits  by  the  treafures  ot  Peru.  Stripped  oi  ail,  de- 
pendent 'or  all,  I  pGileisonly  my  lovej  that  they  would 
have  me  tear  from  thee,  and  become  ungraiciul,  becaule 
I  have  virtue.  Ah  niydear  Aza!  I  ihould deceive  them, 
if  I  proniifed  a  moment  to  ceafc  loving  thee.  Faithful 
to  their  laws,  I  fhail  bt  fo  to  my  love  alfo  j  I  fhail  live 
for  thee  aione. 

LETTER  XXIil. 
7b  Aza  :  Deteri;ilk  returns  from  a  longahfcnce^  and  ex~ 

plains  to  ker  kis  lo-'oe  in  Frensk,  -ojbico  Jue  noiv  f^taks . 

IBrXiEVE,  myde.r  Aza,  that  nothi'-.g  out  rhejoy 
of  iecing  thee  can  furpais  that  which  I  relt  upon  the 
return  of  Dettrvdie  :  bui,  as  if  I  w2s  never  more  to  tafte 
pieaiares  unmixed^  it  \v?vb  very  ioon  followed  by  a  lorrow 
wiiich  ftiii  enduies.  Leiina  wac  vcilcrdiy  morning  in 
my  ciiambcr,  Vi-hen  foinebc-ly  came  and  whiipered  her 
F^  out. 


5l  THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS, 

out,  and  flie  had  not  been  long  gone,  before  I  was  bid 
to  come  to  the  parlour.  I  ran  thither  j  and  how  was  I 
iurpriil-d  to  find  lier  brother  there  with  her  !  I  did  not 
dillemble  the  plealure  I  received  at  Teeing  him  to  whom 
I  ewe  lb  much  elleem  and  friendfhip.  As  lentim^-ntsof 
this  kind  border  on  virtue,  I  cxpreiled  them  with  as  much 
truth  as  I  telt  them. 

I  faw  my  deliveier,  the  only  fuppoi t  of  ray  h»pe :  I 
began  to  Ipeak  without  conftraint  of  thee,  of  my  love,  of 
my  defigiiS,  and  my  joys  fwelledup  to  iranfpcrcs.  As 
I  did  not  fpeak.  French  when  DctervilJe  went  away,  how 
many  things  had  I  to  tell  hun  !  how  many  (juellions  to 
afk  him,  and  how  many  thinks  to  give  him  !  Defirous 
to  tell  him  all  at  once,  I  Ipoke  bad  French,  andyetcon- 
tined  to  talk  on.  During  this  time  I  perceived  thatDe- 
terville  changed  his  countenance  :  the  gloom  which  I 
remaikcd  on  his  i-ice  when  I  entered,  difappeared  ;  joy 
took  its  place;  and  I,  pleafed  that  I  could  give  hhn  de- 
light endeavoured  to  luiighten  it  ft. 11  more.  Alas !  ought 
I  to  have  feared  giving  too  mixh  plealure  to  a  triend  to 
whom  I  owe  all,  and  from  whom  I  expeil  all  ?  Yet  my 
fincerity  threw  him  into  an  error  which  at  prefent  colls 
me  a  great  many  teaz-s. 

Celina  went  out  at  the  fame  time,  tliat  I  came  in  : 
perhaps  her  preience  might  have  hindered  lb  cruel  an  ex- 
planation. DeterviUe,  attentive  to  my  words,  feemed 
to  take  pleafiu-e  in  hearing  them  without  aiming  to  in- 
terrupt me.  I  know  not  what  trouble  feized  me,  when 
I  would  have  demanded  of  him  inftrucStionsrelativc  to  my 
journey,  and  explained  to  him  the  motive  ot  it ;  but  I 
wanted  expreiTiuns  and  fearched  them  in  vain.  He  availed 
himfclf  01  a  moment  of  fdence,  and  bowing  one  knee  to 
the  ground  before  the  grate,  vv'hich  he  held  with  both  his 
liands,  he  laid  to  me  in  a  paifionate  tone  ;    *  To  what 

*  fentiments,  divine    Zilia,  mull  I  afcribe  the  plealure 

*  which  1  fee  i'o  artlellly  expreiled   in  your  fair  eyes,   as 

*  well  as  in  your  difcourfe  ?     Am  I  the  happieit  oi  men., 

*  .at  the  very  inliant  wiun  my  lifter  defcribed  me  as  the 
'  grcatclt  objcvt  of  cutiipallion  ?'       *  1  kr.ow  not,'   an- 

I'wtrtd 


THK    PERUVIAN'    PRINCESS.  6^ 

fwered  I,  *  what  uneaiineiS  Cehna  can  have  given  yovi  j 

*  but  I  am  very  lure  you   fhsil  never  receive  any  trom 

*  me.'     *  She  iias  told  me,'  replied  he,  '  tliat  I  ought 

*  nor  to  hope  for  your  love.'' 

«  Mine'.'  cried  I,  interrupting  him,  *  could  ihe  lay 

*  that  you  have  not  .'-ny  love  ?      Ah  !    Deierville,  how 

*  could  vcvir  lllter  bl'.ckm  me   with  liich  a  crime  ?      I 

*  abhor  ingratitude,  aiiQ  fliouid  ■■a':e  myielt  if  I  thought 
'  I  could  ever  ceafe  loving  you.'  While  I  fpolce  thefe 
few  wor  J5,  he  .'remed  by  the  eagemeis  of  his  locks,  as  if 
he  would  have  read  my  veiy  foul. 

'  You  love  me  then,  Ziiia,'  faid  he,  '  and  you  tell  it 

<  me  yourklf.  I  would  have  given  my  life  to  have  heard 

*  io  chaniii-'ic^,  a  confefTion  :  but  alas  !  now  I  hear  it,   I 

*  cannot  believe.     Ziiia,  mv  dear  Zilia,   is  it  true  that 

*  yo'i  love  me  r     Do  you  not  deceive  yourfelf  ?     Youf 

*  toiic ,  my  heart,  every  thing  feduces  me.     Perhaps  I  am 

*  cr.iy  to  be  plunged  again  into  the  defpaii-  from  which 

*  I  have  juft  efcaped.' 

<   You  altoniili  me,'  replied  I.     *  Whence  arifes  ycui' 

<  d.tiidence  ?      Since  I  have  known  you,  it  I  could  not 

*  make  myfcif  undt-rftood  by  words,  ought  TiOX.  all  my 

*  actions  to  have  proved  that  I  loved  yeu?'  ♦  No,'  relumed 
lie,  '   I  cannot  yet  flatter  myfelf  of  this  :  you  are  not  yet 

*  miilrels  enough  of  French  to  deftroy  my  juil  fears.     I 

*  know  you  do  not  ecdeavour  to  deceive  me  :    but  tell 

*  me  what  fenie  ycu  affix  to  thefe  adorable  words,  I  love 
*■  jctt.     Let  my  lot  be  decided  ;  let  me  die  at  your  feet, 

*  either  with  grief  or  pleafure.'  *  Thelcv/ords,'  I  laid 
to  him,  a  little  intiinidated  by  the  vivacity  with  which 
he  concluded  his  fpeecli,  *  thefe  words,  1  think,  ought 

*  to  let  you  know  that  you  are  dear  to  me ;  that  I  interelt 

*  myfcii  in  your  fortune  5    that  friendfnip  an^l  gratitude 

*  attach  me  to  you  :    tlicfe  fentiments  pieaie  my  heart, 

*  and  ought  to  fatisfy  yours.' 

*  Ah  Ziiia!'   anfwered  he,    '  how  your  exprefiions 

*  grow  more  feeble,  ar.d  your  tone  more  cold  !     Did  Cc- 

*  lina  then  tell  me  truth  r   Is  it  not  for  Aza  that  you  feel 

*  ail  that  you  fay?'     *  No,'  faid  I  j  *  the  fentiments  I 

F  z  *  hivc 


64-  THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS. 

*  have  for  Aza  are  quite  ditferent  from  thole  I  have  for 

*  you  :   they  aie  u'hat  you  call  Jove  in  another  fenfe. — 

<  What  pain  can  this  orjve  you  ?'  added  I,  leeing  him 
grow  pale,  leave  the  grate,  and  look.  forrowFully  up  to 
heaven :  *   I  have  this  tender  love  for  Aza,  becaufe  he 

*  has  the  fame  for  me,  and  we  were  to  be  united.    There 

*  is  nothing  in  this  that  at  all  concerns  you.'     *  There 

*  fliould  be  the  lame  ties,'  faid  he,  *  betwixt  you  and 

*  me  IS  you  own  betwixt  him  and  you,  fmce  I  have  a 

*  thoura.:d  times  more  love  than  he  ever  felt.'' 

*  How  can  that  be?'  faid  I,  interrupting  him.   *  You  are 

*  not  of  my  nation.     Far  from  li av  ing  ciiofen  me  for  your 

*  wife,  it  was  chance  only  that  brougiu  us  together,  and 

*  we  could  never  till  tliis  day  frcciy  communicate  our  ideas 

*  to  each  other.    Wiiat  reafon  could  you  have  to  entertain 

*  for  me  fuch  I'entiments  as  you  mention  r' 

'  Was  any  other  reafon  wanting,'  he  replied,  *  than 

*  your  charms,  and  your  charafter,  to  attach  me  to  y  ou 
'  till  death?     Tenderly  educated,  indolent,  an  enemy  to 

*  artifice,  the  pains  it  mull  have  coft  me  to  engage  the 

*  hearts  of  women,  and  the  dead  of  not  finding  there 

*  that  franknefs  I  defued,  gave  me  only  a  vague  and 

*  tranfientrtlifh  for  the  lex.  I  lived  without  paifion  till 
'  the  moment  I  faw  you,  when  your  beauty  llruck.  me  : 

*  but  its  imprtlTion,  perhaps,   had  been  as  light  as  that 

*  of  many  others,  if  the  fweetncfs  and  fimplicity  of  your 

*  chai-a6ler  had  not  m  ide  you  appear  to  me  the  very  ob- 

*  jeft  vi'hich  my  imagination  hadfooften  formed.     You 

<  know  Zilia,  whether  I  have  fhewnrefpeil:  to  this  obje6l 

*  of  my  adoration.     What  has  it  coft  me  to  refill:  theie- 

*  ducing  occalions  which  the  familiarity  of  a  long  voyage 

*  offered  me  ?  How  many  times  mult  your  innocence 
'  have  furrendereil  to  my  tranlports,  if  I  had  liftened  to 

*  them  ?     But,  far  from  offending  you,    I  carri>;d  my 

*  diicrerion  even  to  lll^nce:   L  even  required  my  filler  not 

*  to  fay  a  word  to  you  of  iny  love,  willmgto  owe  nothing 
'  but  to  yourfelf  alone.     Ah  Zilia,  if  ib  tender  a  rel peel 

*  does  not  move  you,  I  will  fly :  but  I  perceive  that  my 

*  death  will  be  the  price  of  the  lacrihce.'  *  Your 


THE    PERUVIAN   PRINCESS*  6- 

<  Yovu-  deiith,'  cried  I,    aftefted  at  the  finccre  grief 
which  I  law  prels  him  down,   '  fatal  lucrifice  indeed  !    I 

*  know  not  whether  the  apprehenfion  of  ray  own  would 

*  be  more  fright ;ul  to  me.' 

<  Well  then  Zilia,'  faid  he,  *  if  my  life  is  dear  to  you, 

*  order  me  to  live.'  *  Wnat  muif  1  do,'  faid  I.  *  Love 
'■  me,"  anfwercd  he,    *  ns  you  love  Aza,'     '  I  love  him 

*  always  the  fame,'  replied  I,    *  and  fliall  love  him  till 

*  death.'     I  added,  '  Whether'your  laws  permit  you  to 

*  love  two  objecfs  in  the  lame  manner,  I  ksownot  j  but 

*  our  cultom-  and  my  heart  forbid  it.     Be  content  with 

*  the  fcntiments  I  promile  you  j  I  can  have  no  ether.-— 

*  Truth  is  dear  vo  me,  aud  1  tell  it  you  without  diiguife.'' 

*  How  you  afiairinate  in  coki  blood!'  cried  he.  *  Ah 

*  Zilia  !  how  do  I  love  you,  fince  I  adore  even  ybur  cruel 

*  franknels.  Well,'  continued  he  (after  fome  moments 
filence)  '  my  love  fhail  lurpafs  your  cruelty.  Your  hap- 
'   pineis  is  dearer  to  me  than  my  own.     Speak  to  meun- 

*  refervedly  v/irhaii  this  torturing  fincerity  ;  what  hopes 
'  iiave  you  with  regard  to  the  Igve  you  itiil  cherifn  for 

*  Aza.'  *  Alas  !'  faid  I,  '  my  hopes  are  in  you  only.' 
1  riien  told  him  I  had  leanied  that  a  communication  vs-itJi 
the  Indies  was  not  a  thing  impoffible:  that  I  riatrered 
myfelf  he  would  procure  me  the  means  of  returning  thi- 
ther ;  or  at  lealt,  that  he  would  have  the  goodnefs 
to  get  my  knots  conveyed  to  thee,  which  would  \w- 
form  thee  of  my  condition,  and  procure  me  an  anlwerto 
them,  that  I  might  know  thy  daf  iny  alio,  and  conduce 
my  icif  accordingly. 

*  I  am  going,'  laid  he,  with  an  affe<5led  coklnefs,  *  to 

*  take  the  neceliary  meaiures  for  difcovering  the  fate  of 

*  your  lover  :  you  Ihall  be  farisried  on  that  head  :  but  in 
'   vain  do  you  Hatter  yourfelf  with  the  hopes  of  feeing  tlie 

*  happy  Aza  again,  who  is  feparated  from  you  by  invin- 

*  cible  obitacles.' 

Theie  words,  my  dear  Aza,  were  a  mortal  woruid  to 
mey  heart :  my  tears  flowed  in  abxmdance,  and  long  hin- 
dered me  irom  anfweriag  Detervillc,  wno  kept  on  hisllde 
-.  mc-laBcholv  fiierice.     '  If  it  be  lb,'  faid  I  at  lull,  '  that 
F  %  <  I  fhaii 


66  THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS. 

*  I  (lull  fee  him  no  more,  yet  will  I  not  live  for  him  the 

*  icfs.     If  your  iViendlhip  he  generous  enough  to  procure 

*  us  Ibnie conefpondence,  that  iatista-5iion  fhalliuffice  to 
'  render  my  life  lel.s  imupportable  ;  and  I  flial!  die  con- 

*  tent,  pr<w)vided  you  pi-omlle  to  ini'onn  him  that  I  lo\ed 

*  him  dying/ 

*  Oh  I   this  is  too  much,'  cried  he,  rifing  up  brifkly. 

*  Yes,  it  it  is  polTible,   I  will  be  the  only  one  unhappy. 

*  You  fliall  know  this  heiut  which  you  dildain  :   you  Ihall 

*  lee  of  what  efforts  a  love  like  mine    is  capable,  and  I 

*  will  force  you  at  lea!t  to  lament  me.'  As  he  fpoke  thefe 
words  he  fprung  away,  and  left  me  in  a  condition  which 
I  do  not  vet  v>\'\\  comprehend.  I  continued  itanding,  my 
eyes  fixed  on  the  door  by  which  Dirterville  went  out, 
plunged  in  a  confufion  of  thoughts,  which  I  ilrove  invain 
to  reduce  to  order.  I  ihould  have  continued  there  longer 
if  Celina  had  not  come  into  the  parlour. 

She  afked  me,  iharply,  wny  her  brother  was  gone  fo 
foon,  and  I  did  not  conceal  from  her  what  had  palled  be- 
twixt us.  At  fuit  file  itemed  to  grieve  for  what  ihc  called 
her  brother's  misibrtune  :  then  turning  her  forrow  into 
rage,  fiie  loaded  me  with  the  hardeft  reproaches,  to  which 
I  dared  not  anfwer  a  fmgle  word.  What  could  I  have 
laid  to  her  ?  My  trouble  did  not  leave  me  the  liberty  of 
thinking.  I  went  cut,  and  flie  did  not  follow  me.  Re- 
tiring into  my  chamber,  I  flayed  there  a  whole  day  v/ith- 
out  daring  to  appear,  wirhout  fpeaklng  to  any  perfon, 
and  in  iucli  a  diibrder  ci  mind  that  did  not  permit  me  to 
write  to  thee.  Celina's  wrath,  her  brother's  defpair, 
and  his  laft  words,  to  which  I  dared  not  give  a  favour- 
able lenfe,  alternately  tormented  my  foul,  and  gave  me 
the  moll  cruel  uneafmefs.  At  lall  I  thought,  that  the 
only  way  to  foften  my  inquietudes,  was  to  paint  them 
to  thee,  and  to  fearch  in  thy  love  for  thole  counfels  which 
I  have  fomuch  need  of.  This  error  I'upported  me  wh'le 
I  was  writing :  but  how  fhort  a  time  did  it  lait  ?  My 
letter  is  written,  and  the  chara6lers  are  drawn  for  myielf 
only.  Thou  art  ignorant  of  what  I  ililfer,  thou  doft  net 
even  know  whether  I  exift,  whether  I  continu,  to  love 

rliee. 


THE    PERUVIAN'    PRI>rCESS.  67 

thee.     Aza,  my  dear  Aza,  thou  wilt  never  know  thele 
things. 

LETTER  XXIV. 

Tb  Aza    Jhe  falls  Ji:k -^  account  of  Madame  Deterville^s 

death. 

I  MAY  'uftly  call  that  time  an  abfence,  my  dear  Aza, 
wliich  is  elapfed  fince  the  laft  time  I  wrote  ro  thee. — 
Some  days  after  the  converration  I  had  with  Dcterviije, 
I  fell  into  a  ficknefs  which  they  call  a  fever.  If,  as  I 
believe,  it  was  caufed  by  the  painful  fenfations  which 
then  acritated  me,  I  doubt  not  but  it  has  been  lengthened 
by  the  forrowful  reflections  that  have  fince  employed  me, 
ana  by  my  regret  for  having  loll  the  friendfliip  of  Cclina* 

Though  ihe  feemcd  to  be  concerned  for  my  maiady, 
and  took  of  me  all  the  care  that  was  in  her  power,  it  was 
with  lb  cold  an  air,  and  fo  little  fympathy  in  the  affliction 
cf  my  foul,  that  I  cannot  doubt  but  her  lentiments  to- 
wards me  are  altered.  The  extreme  friend  Hi  :p  fhe  has 
for  her  brother  fets  her  againil  me,  and  (he  conti;nulIy 
reproaches  me  for  having  rendered  him  uninppy,  "  The 
Oiame  of  appearing:  ungrateful  intimidates  me :  the  alfe^t- 
ed  kindneiles  of  Cclina  torture  me :  ixit  is  conftriinedby 
my  perplexity,  and  the  foft  and  agreeable  are  bini-liecl 
from  our  canverfation.  In  fplght  offo  much  contrariety 
and  pain  from  the  brother  and  filler,  I  am  not  unaffecled 
with  the  events  which  have  changed  their  deftir.y. 

Madame  Detervllle  is  dead.  This  unmturai  mother 
has  not  belied  her  character;  fhe  has  left  her  v/hole  for- 
tune to  her  eideif  fon.  There  are  hopes  that  the  lav^yers 
may  hinder  the  effccls  of  this  injjftice.  Deterville,  dif- 
interefted  with  regard  to  himfclr,  takes  inlinite  pains  to 
redeem  Celina  from  opprefTion.  Her  m.isfcrtune  feems  to 
redouble  his  friend fhip  for  her:  befules  that  he  comes  to 
fee  her  everv  day,  he  writes  to  her  night  ami  momino- : 
his  letters  are  full  of  teiuler  complaints  again'd  me,  and 
fuch  lively  Iblicitudefor  my  health,  that,  though  Celina 
affects,  in  reading  them  to  me,  to  inform  me  only  of  the 
progrefs  of  their  affairs,  I  can  enfily  difcover  the  motive 
of  this  pretence.     I  dc  not  dov. o!;  Uut  Detervilk  writes 

them 


68  THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS, 

them  on  purpofe  that  they  may  be  read  to  me  ;  and  yet 
I  am  periliaded  he  would  not  tio  it  if  he  knew  the  heavy 
reproaches  that  always  follow  thcie  ie6lures.  They  make 
their  iinpreffion  upon  my  heart,  and  forrow  conl'umes  me. 
Hitherto,  in  the  midlf  of  itorms,  I  have  enjoyed  the 
weak  fatista^lion  of  living  in  peace  with  myfelf.  Not  a 
Ipot  fullied  the  purity  of  my  Ibul,  nor  a  remorie  troubled 
it.  But  now  I  cannot  think,  without  a  fort  of  contempt 
for  myfelf,  that  I  fhould  make  two  perfons  unhappy  to 
whom  I  owe  my  life.  How  do  I  interrupt  the  repofe 
which  but  fcrme  they  would  enjoy  !  and  yet,  though  I 
^  do  them  alltfe  harm  in  vr.y  power,  I  am  not,  nor  will  I 
ceale  to  be  in  this  refpcil  criminal.  My  tendernefs  for 
thee  triuniphs  over  my  rtmorle.  Aza,  how  do  I  love 
thee  I 

lp:tter  XXV. 

To  A?  A  :   Detcr^'ille  difco^jers  lo  her  that  Ai.k  is  in  Spain j 
and  expojlulates  for  himfelfin  <vam. 

HOW  hurtful,  my  dear  Aza,"  may  prudence  fome- 
times  be!  I  have  a  long  time  refuted  the  power- 
ful inflanccs  which  Deterville  hud  cauied  to  be  made  to 
me,  that  I  woiiid  grant  liim  a  moment's  converfation. 
Alas!  I  Ihunned  my  own  hoppinefs.  At  length,  lei's 
thiough  eomplaifance  than  becaufe  I  was  weary  of 
Celina's  importunity,  I  fullered  mvlelf  to  be  led  to  the 
parlour.  At  light  of  the  frightful  change  in  Deterville, 
which  makes  him  fci:rce  to  be  known,  I  itoodconfounJ- 
ftl,  repented  already  the  (fep  I  had  taken,  and  wailed 
tiernblmg,  for  the  reproaches  wlfich  I  thought  he  had  a 
right  to  lay  on  me.  How  I  could  tlivine  that  he  was 
going  to  fill  my  foul  with  pleaiure?     *  Pardon  me,  Zi- 

*  lia,'  laid  he,  *  the  violence  I  put  on  you.      I  fliould 

*  not  have  obdiged  you  to  fee  me,  if  I  had  not  brought 

*  you  as  mucii  joy  as  you  infli(!;l:  torment  on  me.  Is  a  mo- 
'  ment's  light  ol  you   too  much  to  require,  in  rccom- 

*  pence  for  the  cruel  Ihcrilice  I  am  going  to  make  you  ?' 
Then,  without  giving  me  tkne  to  aniwer,  '  here,'  fays 
he,  *  is  a  letter  from  that  lelation  you  was  fpcaking  of. 
'  This  will  ii-^j-onn you  cf  Asa's  fituation,  and,  in    ia 


THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS.  69 

*  doing,  prove,  better  than  all  my  oatKs,  how  great  is 

*  the  excels  oi'iny  love. '  He  then  read  the  L-tter  through. 
Oh!  my  dear  Aza,  could  I  hear  it,  and  nut  die  fur  joy  ? 
It  informed  me  that  thy  days  are  prelerved,  that  thou  arc 
free,  that  thou  livcil  out  of  danger  at  tue  court  of  Spain. 
What  an  unhoped-for  happlnei's  !  This  admirable  let- 
ter was  writ  by  a  man  who  knows  thee,  who  fees  thee, 
who  converfes  with  thee.  Perhaps  thy  looks  were  fixed 
a  moment  upon  this  precious  paper.  I  could  not  take 
mine  from  o.^  it.  It  was  with  pain  I  fupprciled  the 
joyous  exclamations  that  were  ready  to  efcape,  and  tears 
of  love  overflowed  my  countenance. 

li  I  had  followed  the  motions  of  my  heart,  a  hundred 
times  fliould  I  have  interrupted  Deterville,  to  tell  him 
all  that  my  gratitude  infpired  :  but  I  did  not  forget  that 
my  felicity  would  augment  his  pain,  and  fo  concealed 
my  transports,  that  only  my  tears  were  vifible.     *  You 

*  fee,  Zilia,'  laid  he,  after  he  had  done  reading,  '  that 

*  I  have  kept  my  word  :  you  are  infonned  of  Aza's    f:- 

*  tuation  :  What  is  there  more  to  be  done  ?     Give  your 

*  orders  without  relerve  ;  there  is  nothing  that  you  have 

*  not  right  to  exa6l  of  my  love,   provided  it  contributes 

*  to  your  felicity.'  Though  I  might  have  expefted  this 
excels  of  goodnds,  it  neverthelels  furpriled  and  af- 
fccled  rae.  I  was  fome  moments  perplexed  for  an  an- 
fwer,  fearing  to  aggravate  the  grief  of  fo  generous  a 
man.  I  fought  for  terms  that  might  exprels  the  ti'uth 
of  my  heart,  without  offending  the  ienfibility  of  his: 
I  could  not  find  them,  aiid  yet  was  obliged  to  fpeak. 

*  My  happinels/  fiid  I,  *  will  never  be  without  mixture, 

*  fince  I  cannot  reconcile  the  duties  of  love  with  thofe 

*  of  friendrtilp.     I  would  regain  the  friendfhip  both  of 

*  you  and  Celina  j  would  never  leave  you  j  would  for 

*  ever  admire  your  virtues,  and  through  m.y  whole  life 

*  pay   the   tribute  of  gratitude  which   I  owe  for  your 

*  goodnefs.     I  know  that,  in  removing  to  a  di!ta!ics 

*  from  two  perfons  lb  dear,  I  (hall  carry  with  me  eter- 

*  naj   regret.     But " 

*  How,  Zilia,'  crletlhe,  *  would  yau  leave  us  then  ? 

«  Alas  I 


7©  THE    PFRUVIAN    PRINCESS. 

*  Alas !  I  was  not  prepared  for  this  fatal  refolutlon,  and 
«  want  courage  to  fupport  it.  I  had  ftreng th  enough  f o 
«  fee  you  here  ui  the  arms  of  my  rival :   the  efforts  of 

*  my  reafcn,  and  the  delicacy  of  mv  love,  had  confirm- 

*  ed  me  to  bear  that  mortal  blow  which  I  had  contrived 

*  formyfelf;  but  I  cannot  be  feparaied  from  you,  J 
«  cannot  renounce  the  fight  of  you .     No,  you  fliall  not 

*  depart,'  continued  he  withwai-mth,  *  do  not  think  of 
«  it  :  you  abufe  my  tendernefs,  and  tear,  without  pit}^, 

*  a  heart  dilfiafled  with  love.     Zilia  !  cruel  Zilia  !   fee 

*  my  delpair :   it   is   your  work.     Alas!    what  return 

*  do  you  make  for  the  mod  pure  love  !'  *  It  is  you,' 
anfwercd  I,  (fiightened  at  his  relblution)  *  it  is   you 

*  that  ought  to  be  blamed.     You  blaft  mv  veiy  foul  by 

*  forcing  it  to  be  ungrateiul ;  you  lav  waile  my  heart 

*  by  a  fruitle's  fenfibiiity  !  In  the  name  of  friendfhip, 
'  do  not  tarnifli  a  generofity  without  example,  by  a  d'sC- 

*  pair  v>-h:ch  would  caufe  the  bitternefs  of  my  life,  and 
not  render  you  happy.     Do  not  condemn  in  me  the 

*  fair.e  fentlment  which  you  cannot  fmTncunt,  and  force 

*  me  to  complain  of  you  unwillingly.     Let  me  cherifli 

*  your  nam.e,  bear  it  to  the  utmoit  limils  of  the  world, 

*  and  make  it  revered  by  people  who  are  the  adorers  of 

*  virtue.'  I  know  not  how  I  prcnounced  thefe  word':; 
but  Deierviile,  fixing  his  eyes  upon  me,  aiid  yet  not 
perceiving  to  lock,  but  fnut  up,  es  it  were,  in  himfelf, 
continued  a  long  time  in  profound  meditation.  I  did 
not  dare  to  interrupt  him,  and  we  kept  equal  fiience  till 
he  re'.umcd  his  fpeech,  and  with  a  fort  of  tranquillity, 
jaid  to  me — *  Yes,  Ziiia,   I  know  I    feel  my  own  in- 

*  juif  ice  :  but  can  one  coolly  renounce  the  fight  of  lb  many 

*  channs?  You  wil'  have  it  Ic,  and  you  fhall  be  obey- 

*  ed.     O  heaven  !  v/hat  a  facrifice  !   My  iorrow^uldays 

*  fhall  roll  on,  and  end  without  feeing  you.     At  leaft  if 

*  death Let  us  talk  no  more  of  it,'  added  he,  in- 
terrupting himfelf :  *  m.y  weaknefs  betrayed  me:  give 

*  me  two  days  to  confimi  mvielf,  and  I  will  wait  upon 
'  you  again,'  that  we  may  together  take  the  meafureg 

*  neeef^iary 


THE    PERUVIAN'    PRINCESS.  yX 

*  LecefTai'y  for  your  jo'unsy.     Ad;eu,  Zilia.     ]^vl:y  the 

*  happy  Aza  talk  ail  felicity.'     At  faying  thcle  words 
he  went  out. 

I  confcfs  to  thee,  my  dear  Aza,  though  Deterville  is 
fo  dear  to  me,  though  I  was  deeply  atfccled  with  hi» 
grief,  I  had  too  much  impatience  to  enjoy  my  felicity 
in  peace  not  to  be  well  plealed  with  his  retirement.— 
How  delightful  is  it,  after  fo  much  pain,  to  give  one's 
fclf  up  to  joy  !  I  paffed  the  reft  of  the  day  in  the  moft 
tender  raptures.  I  did  not  write  to  thee;  a  letter  would 
have  been  too  little  for  my  heart,  it  would  have  I'ecalkd 
thy  abfence  to  my  mind.  I  faw  thee,  I  fpoke  to  thee, 
dear  Aza  !  What  had  been  wanting  to  my  liappinefs,  it 
thou  hadft  joined  to  that  precious  letter  fjme  tokens  of 
thy  tendernefs  ?  Why  didll  thou  not  do  it  ?  They 
fpoke  to  thee  concerning  me  j  thou  kncrweft  my  fitua- 
tion,  and  I  heard  not  a  word  of  thy  love.  But  can  I 
doubt  of  thy  heart  ?  mine  is  anlwerable  for  it.  Tho\i 
loveft  me  j  thy  joy  is  equal  to  mine :  thou  burned  with 
the  fame  tire,  and  the  fame  Impatience  devours  thee. — 
Let  fear  be  far  from  my  ibul,  and  joy  reign  there  with- 
out mixture.  Yet — thou  haft  embraced  the  religion  of 
that  favage  people.  What  is  that  religion  ?  Does  it  re- 
quire the  fame  facrlficcs  of  atfcolion  as  that  of  France  ? 
No  :  thou  wouldft  not  then  have  fubmitted  to  it.  How- 
ever that  be,  my  heart  is  under  thy  laws  :  fubmitted  to 
thy  underftanJing,  I  will  blindly  adopt  whatever  raiy 
render  us  infepar^ble.  How  can  I  fear  r  Soonre-unitsd 
to  my  bhfs,  to  my  being,  to  my  all,  I  (hall  hereafter 
think  for  thee  only,  3.nd  live  for  nothing  but  to  bve  thee. 

'letter  XXVI. 

To  Aza  :  Jhs  declares  her  refoiution  of  ^juaiting  for  k'lm 

in  France, 

IT  is  here,  my  dear  Aza,  that  I  fhall  fee  thee  again  : 
my  felicity  increafcs  every  day  by  its  particular  cir- 
cumftinces.  The  interviev/  alhgned  me  by  Deterville  is 
juft  over,  and  v/hatever  pleafure  j  promifed  m\lclf  in  fur- 
mounting  thedlfHcultics  of  a  long  journey,  of  preventing 
thee,  of  meeting  thy  footltcps,  I  facrihci  it  without  re** 


72  THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS. 

grct  to  the  happinefs  of  ieeing  the  fooner.  Deten'ille 
has  proved  to  nic,  with  Tuch  itrong  evidence,  that  thou 
inayeft  be  here  hi  lefs  time  than  I  can  travel  into  Spain, 
that,  though  he  gencroufly  left  me  the  choice,  I  did  not 
helltate  to  wait  for  thee  here  j  time  being  too  precious  to 
be  waited  without  nectfllty.  Perhaps  I  (liould  have  ex- 
amined this  advantage  with  more  care,  it,  before  1  had 
chofen,  I  had  not  gained  iuch  lights  with  relpe^t  to  ray 
jouiney  as  determined  me  in  lecret  what  party  to  take, 
and  tliat  fecrct  I  can  trull  only  to  thee. 

I  remember  that,  in  the  long  rout  which  brought  me 
to  Paris,  Detervilie  gave  pieces  of  fjlver,  and  ibmetimes 
of  gold,  at  all  the  places  where  we  Hopped.  I  defired 
to  know  if  this  was  required  of  him,  or  if  he  did  it  of 
mere  generolity  :  and  was  infonned,  that,  in  France,  tra- 
vellers pay  not  only  for  their  food,  but  even  for  their  re- 
pofe*.  Alas  !  I  have  not  the  L-atl  portion  of  that  which 
would  be  neceflary  to  fatisfy  the  cravings  of  this  greedy 
pc;ople  :  all  mufl  come  frcm  Detervilie.  Thou  knowcit 
what  I  owe  him,  and  how  thameiul  would  it  be  to  con- 
tract freih  obligatiuns!  I  (hould  accept  his  favour  with 
a  repugnance,  which  notiiing  but  abroiuteneccllity  could 
vanquiih.  Can  I  voluntarily  make  mylelf  a  greater  debtor 
to  him  who  has  already  done  and  fuifered  fo  muck 
for  me?  I  could  not  relolve  en  it,  my  dear  Aza,  and 
this  reafon  alone  would  have  determined  mc  to  remain 
here.  The  pleafureof  Jeeing  thee  fooner  only  confirmed 
my  lormcr  refolution.  Detervilie  has  written  in  my  pre- 
frhcc  to  I  he  Spanilh  mlnifter  :  he  prcfies  him  to  let  thee 
come,  and  pcjints  out  to  him  the  means  of  getting  thee 
conducted  hither,  with  .  generolity  that  warms  at  once 
my  gratitude  and  admira  ion. 

How  pleafant  were  the  moments  that  pafTed  wlille  De- 
tervilie was  writing  !  how  delightful  to  plan  out  thcdif- 
pofitlcns  !or  thy  journey,  to  fctiie  the  preparations  for  my 
h-'.pp:nefs,  of  which  1  can  no  longer  coubt !  If  at  fi^ft  it 
colt  me  dear  to  renounce  the  delign  of  preventing  thy 

journey 
*  The  Inc.is  eflab1iihc-^>  large  houf:s  upon  the  road,  where  ail 
travciicra  v>cre enterlaiixJ  without  txpence. 


THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS.  75 

journey,  I  confcls  my  dear  Aza,  I  havetcundin  fo  doing 
the  Iburce  of  a  thouland  pleafures,  wiiich  I  had  not  be- 
fore perceived.  Many  circumllances,  whicli  at  firil  ap- 
peared not  conliderabie  enough  either  to  hai^en  or  rctuid 
mv  journey,  beccnie  to  me  interefting  and  agreeable.  I 
followed  blindly  the  bias  or  my  heart  j  and  torgot.thar  I 
was  coming  in  learch  ot  thee  among  thofe  cruel  Spaniards, 
the  very  idea  of  wliom  ftrikes  me  with  horror.  The 
certainty  of  not  feeing  them  any  more  gives  me  infinite 
iatisfaction.  Though  the  voice  of  love  at  firft  iuppref- 
fed  that  of  fricndfhip,  I  now  tafte  without  remorle  the 
fweetnefs  of  uniting  them.  D^terville  has  alfurcd  me, 
that  it  v/ill  be  impoihble  for  us  ever  to  vilit  the  city  of 
the  fun  :  and,  after  our  own  country,  can  there  be  a  more 
agreeable  place  of  refidencc  than  this  of  France?  It  v/ili 
pleafe  thee,  my  dear  Aza,  though  fmcericy  is  banifiied 
from  it.  Here  are  fo  many  agreeable  thir.gs,  that  they 
make  one  forget  the  dangers  of  the  fociety. 

After  what  I  have  laid  to  thee  of  gold,  it  is  unnecef- 
fary  to  caution  thee  to  take  fomc  of  it  vith  thee :    thou 
wilt  have  no  other  merit.     A  iliiail  pait  of  thy  treaiiires 
would  amaze  and  conround  the  pride  of  the  magnificent 
indigents  of  this  kingdom  :  thy    virtues  and   thy  lent i- 
ments  will  be  cheriihcd  by  me  only.     Dctervdle  has  pro- 
mifed  to  tranimit  to  thee  my  knots,  and  my  letters,  and 
allured   me  that  thou  wilt  find  interpreters  to  explain  the 
latter.     They  are  come  to  demand  !ny   packet,    and  I 
mult  have  done.     Farewel,  dear  hopu  ex  ray  liie  :  I  will 
continue  to  write  to  thee,  and,   i    I  cannot  fend  ray  let- 
ters, will  keep  them  for  thee.     How  Ihculd  I  fupportthe 
length  of  thy  journey,  if  I  were  to  deprive  mytcif  of  the 
only  means  I  have  of  converfmg  with  my  joy,  my  tranf- 
ports,  my  felicity  ? 

LETTER  XXVn. 

To  Aza  :  Celina's  tender fufs ;  DUcrvule fends  her  a! I  the 

JpcUs  of  the  iemple  of  the  Sun. 

SINCE   I  know  my  letters  to  be  upon  the  road,   ray 
dear  Aza,  I  enjcy  a  tr-anquillity  to  whicn  I  was  be 
lore  a  ftianger.     I  tnmk  for  cverot  the  pleafure  thou  wi 
G  ha 


7/r  THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS, 

have  in  receiving  them  j  I  fee  and  receive  their  ti-anfports  ; 
my  foul  admits  only  agreeable  ideas,  and,  to  complete 
my  joy,  peace  is  again  c'labiiiiied  in  our  little  lociety. 

The  judges  have  rrfiored  toCeiinathc  efft^.sof  wliich 
her  mother  had  depiived  her:  flie  iees  her  lover  every 
day,  and  her  marriage  is  retarded  f  nly  by  the  neccHary 
preparations  that  arc  making  ior  it.  Tb  as  happy  to  her 
wlflies,  Ihe  thinks  no  mcie  of  quarreling  wi^h  me  5  and  I 
have  as  much  obligation  to  her,  as  it  the  kinduv-fTes  fhe 
begins  again  to  fnew  me  were  c  /ing  to  her  friendfhip. 
Whatever  the  motive  be,-  we  are  always  in  debt  to  thofe 
who  help  us  to  the  enjoyment  of  agreeable  lentiments. 
This  morning  fhe  made  me  r'v.Uy  lenfibie  of  it  by  an  a6\. 
of  complaliance,  which  at  once  traniported  me  from  tire- 
fome  anxiety  to  the  moft  calm  tranquillity.  They  had 
brought  heraprodig'ous  quantity  of  itutFs,  garments,  and 
toys  of  all  kinds.  She  ran  and  fetched  me  into  the  chamber, 
and,  after  having  coniuUed  me  upon  the  different  beauties 
of  fo  many  ornaments,  fhe  pui  together  a  heap  of  thofe 
which  had  mcft  attra61ed  my  attention,  and  haltily  com- 
manded our  Cliinas  to  can-)'  them  into  my  apartment, 
though  I  oppoltd  it  with  all  my  power.  My  reiufal  at 
f.y{x  diverted  her  only  ;  but  perceiving  that  the  more  I 
declined  the  prefent,  the  rr  ore  flie  perfdled  in  making  it, 
I  could  no  longer  diffemble  my  refentment.  '  Why,' fa  id 
I  to  her  (with  my  eyes  full  of  tears)  '  why  will  you  hum- 

*  ble  me  more  than  I  am?  I  owe  to  you  my  life,  and  ail 
'  that  I  have:  but  fo  much  bounty  is  not  necellary  to  keep 

*  my  misfortunes  in  remembrance.   I  know  tliat,  accord - 

*  i  -ig  to  your  laws,  when  benefits  are  of  no  advantage  to 

*  thofe  who  receive  them,  the  Jhame  is  afFaced.  It  is  not 
'  without  repugnarice,'addec!  I  in  a  more  moderate  tone, 
'  that  I  conform  to  fentiments  which  have  fo  little  of  na- 

*  ture  in  thcni.  Ourcuitomsare  more  luunane  :  he  that 
'  receives  is  honoured  as  much  as  he  that  gives.     You 

*  hi  ve  taugiit  me  to  think  otherwlfe  j  and  is  not  this,  there- 

*  fore,  to  offer  me  an  outrage  ? 

This  amiable  friend,  melted  by  my  tears  more  than 
iiiiialed  by  my  reproaches,  anfwaedia  a  iwqH  kind  and 

ocntlc 


THE  PERUVIAN    PRINCESS.  75 

jventie  tone:  '  Beth  my  brother  and  I,  my  dear  Zili3, 
^  would  be  fa^tVom  offending  your  delicacy.    It  would 

*  ill  b&:cme  us,  as  you  Iha^i  kiX)\v  preienily,  to  atftft 

*  raa£;nificerxe  in  our  behaviour  to  you.     I  only  dell  ed 

*  that  ycu  .v^uld  partake  with  nie  tht-  prelects  of  a  gene- 
«  rousb.  other;  and  I  knew  thu 'vas  the  molt  certain  me- 

*  thod  of  llie\ving  him  my  gratitude.     Cultom,  in  my 

<  fi:ua*iou,  authoriics  me  to  offer  you  thefe  thmgs :  but, 

*  lince  you  are  offended,,  I  will  ily  no  more  to  you  upon 

*  the  iubjeft."'  *  You  pvomife  me  then?'  faid  I.  <  Yes,' 
ani'wered  Ihe  witli  a  i'mile ;  *  but  give  me  ieate  to  write 

<  a  word  or  two  to  Deterville.' 

I  let  her  do  as  fhe  defired,  and  freedom  was  reftored 
betwixt  us.  We  began  to  examine  her  drefs  mere  par- 
ticularly, till  llie  was  called  int^"*  ::he  parlour.  She  would 
have  had  me  go  with  her,  but,  r.iy  dear  Aza,  can  I  have 
any  amufcment  comparable  to  th^t  of  writing  to  thee  ? 
Far  from  -eeking  any  other,  I  am  apprehenlive  before- 
hand ot  the  diverllons  interu-led  for  me.  Cellna  is  going 
to  be  man  ied,  and  iht  talks  ot  taking  me  with  her :  Ihe 
wouM  have  me  quit  this  religious  houle,  and  live  in  hers. 

But,  if  I  may  be  believed  ---- 

-_ -.  Aza,    my  dear 

Az5,  by  what  an  agreeable  furprife  was  m.y  letter  inter- 
rupted !  I  believed  I  had  for  ever  lo;l  this  precious  mo- 
nument of  our  ancient  fpiendour ;  I  had  even  left  off 
thinking  of  it :  but  now  I  ain  iuiTounded  with  the  mag- 
nificence of  Peru ;  I  fee  it,  I  feel  it,  and  fcarce  can  I 
believe  my  eyes  or  my  hands. 

Whllft  I  was  writing  to  thee,  Crlina  came  into  my 
chamber,  followed  by  four  men  crcuchLng  underthe  weight 
of  heavy  chefts,  which  they  had  on  their  backs;  theyfet 
them  down  and  retired,  and  I  imagined  they  had  brought 
fome  new  preients  from  Detervilie.  i  already  murmured 
to  myfelf,  when  Celina,  giving  me  fome  keys,  faid, 
*  Open  Zilla,  open  without  being  angrs',  it  comes  frona 
«  Aza.' 

Truth,  which  I  fix  infeparably  to  the  idea  of  thee, 
did  not  leave  me  in  the  kaft  doubt.  I  opened  haftily, 
G  z  ani 


76  THE    PERUVIAN-    PRIIsCESS. 

and  my  furpriie  confimied  my  eiTor,  when  I  faw  that  all 
which  I  beheld  were  the  ornaments  of  the  temple  of  the 
Sun.  A  confuhon  of  thoughts,  mixed  up  of  foiTOw  and 
joy,  of  pleafure  and  regret,  filled  all  my  heart*  I  threw 
mylelf  proltrate  before  thefe  facred  remains  of  our  wor^ 
/liip  and  our  altars,  covered  them  with  refpeflhil  kilTes, 
watered  them  with  my  tears,  and  could  not  be  difengaged 
from  them :  I  even  forgot  that  Celina  was  prelent,  till 
Ihe  roufed  me  from  my  trance  by  giving  m.e  a  letter, 
whicli  file  defued  me  to  read. 

Still  given  up  to  my  error,  I  thouglit  it  came  from 
thee,  and  my  tranfports  redoubled  :  but,  though  I  made 
it  out  with  pain,  I  foon  perceived  that  it  was  Deterville's 
writing.  It  will  be  eafier  for  me  to  copy  it,  my  dear 
Aza,  tlian  to  explain  to  thee  the  fenfe  of  it.  ' 

dlterville's  letter. 

*  Thefe  treafures  are  yours,  fair  Zilia,  fince  I  fo\ind 
*■  them  in  the  fiiip  that  carried  you.     Seme  dilputesthat 

*  arofe  among  the  crew,  hindered   me  from  uifpofing  of 

*  them  fretly  till  now.     I  would  have  prelented  them  to 

*  you  myfelF,  but  the  uneafinefs  you  difcovered  ro  my 

*  lifter  this  morning  would  not  permit  me  to  follow  my 

*  inclination.     I  could  not  too  foon  diifipate  your  fears, 

*  and  I  will  all  my  life  long  prefer  your  latisfasftion  to 
'  mine.' 

1  confefs  with  a  blufh,  my  dear  Aza,  that  I  v/as  at 
that  inftant  lefs  fenfible  of  Deterville's  generofity,  than 
of  my  own  pleafure  that  I  was  able  to  give  him  proofs 
of  mine.  Immediately  I  fet  apart  a  vale,  which  chance 
rather  than  avarice,  had  caufed  to  fall  into  the  hands  of 
the  Spaniards.  It  was  the  fame  (my  heart  knew  it) 
which  thy  lips  touched  on  that  day  when  it  was  thy  plea- 
fure to  tafte  fome  Aca*  prepared  by  my  hand.  Richer 
ill  this  treafure  than  in  all  the  reft  that  was  reftored  to  me, 
I  caUed  the  men  who  brought  the  chelis,  and  would 
have  iiad  them  take  tlie  whole^back  again  as  a  prefcnt  to 
DeteiTille,  but  Celina  oppoied  my  defign. 

*  How  unjuft  you  are,  Zilia  !'  faid  flie.     *  What, 

*  would 
*  A  drink  of  the  Indians. 


THE   PERUVIAN   PRINCESS.  77 

'  wouM  you,  who  are  offended  at  the  offer  of  a  trifle, 

*  dclircniy  brother  to  accept  ot  immcnle riches  ?  Obferve 

*  equity  in  your  own  actions,  i\  you  would  inipire others 

*  with  It.'  Thefe  words  Itruckme,  and  I  perceived  there 
was  more  of  pride  and  vengeance  than  ot  generolity  in 
my  a6lion.  How  near  do  the  vices  and  virtues  approach 
each  other  I  I  confelTed  my  fault,  and  aikcd  Cclina's  par- 
don :  but  what  afHifted  me  the  molt  was,  the  conftraint 
flie  Jaid  me  under,  not  to  endeavour  to  repair  what  I  had 
done.  *  Do  not  punifh  me,'  faid  I,  with  a  timid  air,  *  as 

*  mi:ch  ?s  I  deferve  :  diltlain  not  to  accept  of  a  few  fpeci- 

*  mens  of  the  workm.anfliip  of  our  unfortunate  countries  : 

*  you  have  no  need  of  them,  and  my  requeft   ought  not 

*  to  give  you  offence.' 

While  I  i'poke,  I  obferved  that  Cellna  looked  atten- 
tively at  fome  golden  fhrubs,  with  birds  and  infe^Sls  on 
them  of  excellent  workmanfliip  :  I  inftantly  made  her  a 
prefent  of  them,  together  with  a  fmall  fiiver  bafket, 
which  I  tilled  with  f^.owers  and  flieilsinolt  ctirioufly  imi- 
tated. She  accepted  it  with  a  goodnefs  that  tranlborted 
me.  I  afterwards  chofe  outfeveritl  idols  of  the  nations  * 
conquered  by  thy  anceiiors,  and  a  fmall  ftatue  f  repre- 
fenthig  a  virgin  of  the  Sun  :'  to  thefe  I  added  a  tiger,  a 
lion,  and  other  courageous  animals,  and  beibught  hei'to 
lend  them  to  Detcrviilc.  '  Write  to  him  ttien,'  faid  flie 
with  afmile:  *  without  a  letter  from  you,  the  prefent  will 
*  not  be  well  received.' 

I  was  too  well  fatisfied  to  refufe  any  thing;  and  wrote 
all  that  my  gratitude  dictated :  and  when  Celina  was 
gone  out,  I  diitributed  irnall  prefents  to  her  China  and 
mine,  and  put  others  afide  for  my  writlng-maller.  Then 
it  v.-as  that  1  en;oyed  the  delicious  pleafure  of  being  able 
to  give.     I  did  not  do  this  without  choice,  my  dear  Aza, 

*  The  Inca-:  caufed  the  idols  of  the  people  they  fubdued  to  be 
depofited  in  the  temple  of  the  Sun,  af;er  die/  had  conformtd  ta 
the  worfhlp  of  than  lumi^.ary.  They  had  idols  alfo  themfelves, 
the  Incd  Huayna  having  confulted  that  of  Rimace.  See  the  hil- 
tory  of  the  Incas. 

-f  The  Incas  adorned  their  houfes  wi:h  ftatue*  of  gold  of  ail 
magnitudes,  even  to  gigantic  lizes, 

Gi  All 


7S  THE    PERUVIAN    FKINCESS. 

AU  that  came  trcm  thee,  whatever  thou  wilt  particularly 
remember,  has  not  gone  out  ot  my  hands. 

The  golden  chair  *,  which  was  kept  in  the  temple  for 
the  vir.ting  days  of  the  Capa-Inca,  thy  auguft  father, 
placed  in  a  corner  of  my  apartment,  in  form  of  a  throne, 
reprefents  to  m.e  thy  grandeur,  and  the  majefty  of  thy 
rank.  The  great  figure  of  the  Sun,  which  1  myfclf  faw 
torn  from  the  temple  by  the  perfidious  Spaniards,  luf- 
pended  over  it,  excites  my  venei-ation.  I  fall  down  before 
it,  and  adore  it  in  mind,  wliile  my  heart  belongs  all  to 
thee. 

The  two  palm-trees,  Avhich  thou  gaveft  to  the  Sun  as 
an  offering,  and  a  pledge  of  the  faith  thou  hadft  fworn 
to  me,  placed  en  the  two  fides  of  the  throne,  continually 
revive  in  my  mind  thy  tender  and  afteCiionate  oaihs. — 
Flcwcrs,  birdsf,  difpofed  with  fymnietry  in  all  the  cor- 
ners of  my  apartment,  form  in  miniature  the  image  of 
thofe  magnificent  gardens,  where  I  have  lo  often  enter- 
tained mylelf  with  thy  idea.  My  fatisfied  eyes  can  fix 
in  no  part  without  calling  to  mind  thy  love,  my  joy,  my 
bli!s,  in  a  word,  all  that  v.  ill  ever  conflitute  the  lifc^of 
mv  life. 

LETTER  XXViri. 
To  x-\zA  :  Jhe  is  in  the  co-untrj,  at  Ceima's  -jsedfwp. 

IT  was  in  vain,  my  dear  Aza,  that  I  endeavoured  by 
prsvers,  complaints,  and  remonftrances,  to  avoid  quit- 
ting m.y  retreat:  1  have  been  obliged  to  give  way  toCelina's 
im.poitunities.  and  wc  have  been  nov.'  three  days  in  the 
country,  wh.ere  her  marriage  was  celebrated  at  our  firfl 
arrival.  What  pain,  what  regret,  what  grief  did  I  not 
feel  at  abandoning  the  dear  and  precious  ornaments  of  my 
folitude  !  Alas  !  fcarce  had  I  had  time  to  enjoy  th^m, 
;  nd  I  fee  nothing  here  to  make  amends  for  what  I  have 
Lft  !     The  joys  and  pkalures  with  which  txcrs  one  here 

feems 

*  The  Incis  never  fat  but  upon  feats  of  mafTy  goiii. 

•f  The  girdens  of  the  temple,  and  thofe  or  the  royal  palace?, 
were  l:llcd\vi;h  various  kinds  of  imiratiorss  in  gold  m\6.  filver. 
The  Pf  ruvians  rradc  Lm.jgc-s  oven  ot  the-  pUnt  Ma^s,  with  which 
tLev  \voi:ld  fell  '.vhole  Ucitis 


THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS.  79 

Teems  intoxicated,  are  lb  tar  from  diverting  and  amufmg 
uie,  tiiat  they  make  me  remember  with  greater  regret  the 
peaceable  days  I  I'pent  in  writing  to,  or  at  leaft  in 
thinking  of,  thee. 

The  diverfions  of  this  country  appear  to  me  as  aftc£led 
and  unnatural  as  the  manners  :  they  confift  of  a  violent 
gaiety,  exprtlTed  by  loud  laughter,  in  which  the  foul 
leems  to  takeno  part ;  of  infipid  games,  in  which  money- 
makes  all  the  plealure  ;  or  elle  in  converfations  fo  frivo- 
cus,  in  which  the  fame  things  are  continually  repeated, 
that  they  refemblc  rather  the  chattering  of  birds  than  the 
difcourfe  of  thinking  beings.  The  young  men,  who  are 
here  in  great  number,  were  at  firft  very  bufy  in  following 
and  feeming  to  oblige  me  :  but  whether  the  coldnefs  of 
my  converfation  has  difgufted  them,  or  that  my  little 
relifn  for  their  entertainments  has  made  them  weary  of 
raking  pains  to  recomiUiend  their  fenices,  two  days  only 
were  fufficient  to  make  them,  forget  me,  and  deliver  me 
from  their  importunate  notice. 

The  propenfity  of  the  French  is  fo  natural  to  extremes, 
that  Dctei-ville,  though  exempt  from  a  great  part  of  the 
faults  ot  his  nation,  does  yet  participate  of  this.  Not  con- 
tent with  keeping  the  promile  he  has  made,  of  not  fpeak- 
ing  his  fen'iments  any  more  to  me,  he  with  remarkable 
caution  avoids  ftaving  where  I  am  prelent ;  fo  that  though 
we  are  obliged  to  fee  one  another  continually,  I  have  not 
yet  found  an  opportunity  of  talking  with  him. 

By  the  forrow  that  oppreflirs  him  amidlf  the  public  joy, 
I  can  eaiily  perceive  that  in  this  fhynefs  he  commits  a  vi- 
olence on  hinifeif.  Perhaps  I  ought  to  be  obliged  to  him 
for  it,  but  I  have  fomany  queltlons  to  afk  him  about  thy 
departure  from  Spain,  thy  arrival  here,  and  other  fuch 
interefting  fubjects,  that  I  cannot  pardon  while  I  am 
forced  to  approve  his  conduct.  I  defue  violently  to  oblige 
him  to  fpeak  to  me  ;  but  the  dread  of  reviving  his  com- 
plaints and  regrets  prevents  my  doing  it. 

Celina,  intireiy  taken  up  with  her  new  fpoufe,  affords 
me  no  relief,  and  the  reft  of  the  company  are  not  agreea- 
bie  to  VA?.     Thus,  alone  in  the  raidft  of  a  tumultuous 

uflcmbiv. 


So  THE    PERUVIAN    PRIMCES5. 

aflembly,  I  have  no  ainuiement  but  my  thoughts  whicli 
are  aJ!  addrelTcd  to  thee.  My  dear  Aza,  thou  flialt  ever 
be  the  lole  confidant  of  my  heart,  my  piealures,  my  fe- 
Jiclt)'. 


END  OF  THE  FIRST  VOLUME. 


LETTERS 

OF   A 

PERUVIAN  PRINCESS. 

VOLUME  II. 


LETTER  XXIX. 


To  Az  A  :  /he  has  another  inter-ziie-vj  ^juith  Deter^vilkj  and 
fuffeBs  Aza's  injidelity. 

I  WAS  much  to  blame,  my  dear  Aza,  In  defiring To 
earnellly  a  converfation  \vi:h  DetervilJe.  He  hath 
faid  but  too  much  to  me  :  though  I  difallovv  the  trouble 
that  he  has  excited  in  my  ibul,  it  is  not  yet  effaced.  I 
know  not  what  fort  of  im.patience  was  added  yefterday 
to  my  ufual  melancholy  :  the  world,  and  the  noife  of  it, 
became  to  me  more  troublefome  than  ordinary.  Ex- 
cept the  tender  fatisfa6tion  of  Celina  and  her  husband, 
every  thing  that  I  faw  infpired  me  with  an  indignation 
bordering  on  contempt.  AHiamed  to  find  fuch  xmjuft 
fentlments  in  my  heart,  I  endeavoured  to  hide  the  per- 
plexity they  caufed  me  in  the  molt  retired  part  of  the 
garden.  Scarce  had  I  fat  me  down  at  the  foot  of  a  tree, 
before  the  tears  involuntarily  flowed  down  my  cheeks. 
With  my  face  hidbetwixtmy  hands,  I  was  burled  in  fo 
profound  a  reverie,  that  Dcterville  was  on  his  knees  by 
the  fide  of  me  before  I  perceived  him. 

*  Be  not  offended,    Zilia,'  faid  he:    *  it   Is   chance 
<  that  has  brought  me  to  your  feet,  I  was  not  looking 

*  after  you.     Wear)-  of  the  tumult,  I  was  coming  to 

*  enjoy    my   forrow    in  peace.     I  perceived   you,  and 

*  ftruggled  with  myfelf  to  keep  at  a  diftance  from  you  : 

*  but  I  am  too  unhappy  to  continue  fo  without  feeking 
'  relief.  In  pity  to  myfelf  I  drew  near ;  I  faw  your 
'  tears  flow,  and  was  no  longer  mafter  of  my  powers. 

*  But,  if  you  command  me  to  fly  from  you,  I  will  obey. 
'  Can  you  do  it,  Zilia?  Am  1  odious  to  you?' — '  No,' 
replied  I  ;  <  on  the  contrary,  fit  down,  I  am  glad  to 

*  have 


ti  THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS. 

*  have  an  opportunity  of  ipeaking  to  you  fince  the  laft 
'  benefits  3-ou  conferred  on  me/  *  Let  us  not  talk  of 
'  them,'  interrupted  he  brilkly.  *  But  hear  me/  re- 
plied I :   *  to  be  entirely  genercus,  you  inuft  Ihten  to 

*  acknowledgment.     I  have  not  fpoken  to  you  fmccvcu 

*  reftored  to  me  tlie  precious  ornaments  of  the  temple 

*  in  which  I  was  educated.  Perhaps  in  my  letter  I 
'  b^dly  expreflcd  the  fentimtnts  that  fuch  an  excefs  of 

*  goodnefs  infpired  me  with  :  but  I  meant '  *  Alas  !' 

intcnup*^eci  he  again,  <  what  comfort  Hoes  arknowiedg- 

*  ment  bring  to  a  heart  that  I?    ^vretched  ?  Thanks  are 

*  the  companions  of  indifference,  and  too  often  allied 

*  with  hatred.'     «  What  is  that  vou  fay  ?'  cried   I. — ■ 

*  Whv  do  you  thus  ^^Tong  mt  in  your  thoughts?  Ah  ! 

*  Deterville,  what  a  right  fliould  i  have  to  reproach  vou, 

*  if  you  were  not  fo  .nuch  to  be  pitied !     Fai-  from  hat- 

*  ing  vou,  e^'er  fince  the  firll  moment  I  faw  you,  I 
'  have  depended  on  you  with  lefs  repugn?nce  than  on 

*  the  Spaniards.     Your  geniiencft)   and   kindnefs  have 

*  made  me  all  along  defire  to  gain  ycur  friendfhip,  in 

*  proportion  as  I  faw  f  irther  into  your  charafter.  I 
'  am  confirmed  in  the  opinion  that  youdeferve  all  mine  ; 

*  and,  without  fpeaking  of  the  extreme   obligations    I 

*  have  to  you(fincc  my  acknowledgment difpieafes) how 
'  could  I  help  entertaining  the  fentimer.ts  v.hich  are  fo 
'  juftly  your  due  ?     Your  virtues  alone  I  found  worthy 

*  of  tlie  fimplicity  of  ours  :  a  fon  of  the  Sun  would  be 

*  honoured  by  your  fentiments  :  your  rea'bn  is  like  that 

*  of  nature  :  How  many  motives  then  had   I    to  efteem 

*  you  r     Even  the  noblcnefs  of  your  figure,    and  every 

*  thing  about  you,  pleafes  me :  for  friv^ndihip  has  eyes 
'  as  well  as  love      Heretofore,  after  a  fhort  ablence, 

*  you  never  came  to  me  again,  but  I  felt  a  foit  of  fere- 

*  nity  expand  in  my  heart.     Why  have  you   changed 

*  thofe  innocent  pleafures  into  pains  and  anxieties  ? 

'  Ycur  reafon  now  appears  but  in  ftartsonly,  and   t 

*  am  continually  afraid  of  thofe  failles.    'The  fentiments 

*  you  entertain  me  with  lay  a  reftiaint  on  the  expreflion 

*  of 


THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS.  Sj 

f  of  mine,  and  deprive  me  cf  the  pleaiure  ©f  defciibing 
^  to  you,  without  dilguiie,  the  charms  I   could  tafte  ini 

<  your  friendship,  it  you  did  rot  yourl'elt  diiturb  the 
^  ivveetnels  of  it.  You  even  take  from  me  the  dehcate 
f  pleaiiiie  of  looking  on  my  benefactor  :   your  eyes  per- 

*  plex  mine,  and  I  no  more  obfei-v^e  in  them  that  agreea- 

*  ble  tranquillity,  v/hlch  has   fometmies   palled  to  my 

*  very  foul.     Your  ccnltant  and  fettled  m.elanciioiy  re- 

*  proaches  me  eternally  uith  being  the  chief  cauje  of  it. 

*  Ah,  Deterville!  how  un'uft  are  you,  if  yen  think  you 
f  fufFer  alone.'  *  My  dear  Zilia!"  cried  he,  (kiffing  my 
hand  with  ardour)  *  what  un  addition  does  your  kind- 

<  neis  and  franlmefs   of  fpeech   make   to  my    regret  ! 

*  What  a  treafure  would  the  pofltfTion  of  luch  a   heart 

*  as  yours  be!    But  with  what  aggravated  defp^ir  do 

*  you  make  me  fcnfible  of  the  lofs  of  it  I  Mighty  Zilia  1 ' 
continued  he,  <  how  great  ib  your  po  ver  ?     Was  it  not 

*  enough  to  convert  me  from  the  moft  careltfs  indiffe- 

*  rence  to  love,  from  indolence  to  fury,  but  you  muft 

<  vanquifh  me  too  ?     Can  I  bear  it  ?'    *  Yes,'  faid   I, 

*  this  effort  is  v.'orthy  of  your  nobie  heart ;  an  a^lioii 
^  fojuliand   generous  elevates  you  above  mortals.' — 

*  But  can  Ifjniveit  r'  re  fumed  he,  forrov/fully .  *  Do 

<  not  hope,  however,  that  I  fliall  fcrve  for  the  victim  of 

*  your  love:   I   will  continue  ftill  to  adore  your  idea, 

<  which  fhall  be  the  bitter  nourifliment  of  my  foul.     I 

*  will  love  you,  and  fee  you  no  more.     Oh  1 — But  at 

*  kali  do  not  forget ' 

The  riiing   fobs  choaked  his  fpeech,  and  he    halfily 
endeavoured   to   hide  the   teais  which  overflowed   his  ' 
face.      Affecl'.d  equally  v/ith  his    generofity   and    his 
grief,   I  flicd  fome  myie'.f,  and  prciled  one  of  his  hands 
in  mine.     *  No,'  faid  I,  *  you  inali  not  leave  me.     Let 

*  me  llilJ  keep  my  friyid,  qind  be  fatished  with  thole  fen- 

*  timents  which  I  (hail  Jiave  ior  you  all  my  life  long. 

*  I  love  you  almoft  as  much  as  I  love  Aza,  but  I  can- 

*  not  love  you  in  the  lame  manner  as  him.' 

*  Cruel  Zilia  r  cried  he,  with  tranfport,   '  will  you 
^   ^I.va)s  accompany  your  gooclntls  with  inch  piercing: 

'  Urokcs? 


S4-  THE  PERUVIAN    PRINCESS. 

<  ftiokes  ?     Muft  a  mortal  poilbn  continually  deltroy  the 

*  charm  that  you  convey  with  your  words  ?  How  ienie- 

*  Ids  am  I  to  be  bewitched  by  their  Iweetnei's  !  to  what 

*  a  fhameful  humility  do  I  degrade  myielr  !   But  it   is 

<  done,  I   recover   ir.ylelf !'  added  he,  in  a  firm  tone. 

*  Farewel  !  You  (lull  loon  iee  Aza ;  may  he  not  make 
'  you  feel  torn^ents  like  tiioi'e  which  prey  on  me  j  may 

*  he  be  llich  as   your  dehre  makes  him,  and  worthy  of 

*  your  heart ! ' 

You  cannot  conceive,  my  dear  Aza,  what  an  alann 
the  air  he  pronounced  ihefe  words  in,  gave  to  my  foul. 
I  could  not  guard  againll  the  fulpicions  that  came  crowd- 
ing into  my  mmd.  I  did  not  doubt  but  Deterville  was 
better  informed  than  he  cared  to  appear,  and  had  con- 
cealed from  me  fome  letters  that  he  had  received  from 
Spain  :  in  fliort  (ihall  I  dare  pronounce  it  i")  I  fufpe6ted 
that  thou  weit  unfaithful.  I  entreated  him,  in  the 
itrongeft  manner,  to  tell  me  the  truth  :  but  all  that  1 
could  get  out  of  him  amounted  only  to  loofc  conjeftiu-es, 
which  had  an  equal  tendency  to  confirm  and  to  dcilroy 
my  fears. 

However,  refle6tions  npon  the  Inconftancy  of  men, 
the  dangers  of  abfence,  and  the  facility  with  which  thou 
hadll  changed  thy  religion,  remain  deeply  graven  \i\yon 
my  mind.  Now  did  my  love,  for  thefirlt  time,  become 
to  me  a  painful  fentiment ;  now  was  I  for  the  firlt  time, 
afraid  of  lofmg  thy  heart.  Aza,  if  it  were  true,  if  thou 
didft  not  love  me,  would  that  my  death  had  feparated  us, 
rather  than  thy  inconftancy  !  No;  it  was  his  own  def-. 
■pair  that  fuggefted  to  Detervdie  thefe  frightful  ideas. — 
Ought  not  his  trouble  and  diftraction  to  convince  me  of 
it?  fhould  not  his  felf-intereft,  which  makes  him  fpeak, 
be  called  in  queftion  by  me  r  It  was  lb,  my  dear  Aza, 
and  my  refentment  turned  all  againft  him.  I  treated 
him  roughly,  and  he  quitted  me  in  a  defperate  fur^-. — 
Alas!  was  I  lels  defperate  than  he?  What  tonnentsdid 
I  not  fuffer,  before  I  found  again  the  repofe  ot  my 
heart  ?  Is  it  yet  well  confirmed  ?  Aza  !  I  love  thee  lb 
teriderly,  canll  thou  forget  mc  ?  LETTER 


THE    PERUVIAN    PrilXCESS.  85 

LETTER  XXX. 

To  AzA  ;  ifv.poJidncejor  nis  coming  j  defcnptlon  of  French 

<vtjiis. 

THE  joiirr.ev,  my  dear  Aza,  feems  to  me  very  lorg. 
How  ardently  do  1  deiire  thy  arrival !  T  ime  has 
dillrpdted  my  inquietudtr^j  and  I  now  eiteem  them  only 
Hs  a  dream,  ot  wAichthc  light  oi  the  day  iias  effaced  the 
hnprcirion.  I  accmed  myitlr  ot  a  crime  in  havmg  lul- 
ptcied  tnec,  and  my  repentance  redoubles  my  tendcrnels  : 
ic  has  ahiioic  rooted  out  my  compamon  for  the  pains  or 
Deterviiie.  1  cannot  pardon  him  tor  the  ill  opinion  he 
iecms  to  have  ot  thee,  and  I  have  Jefs  regret  than  ever 
in  being  as  it  were  Icpai-ated  from  him. 

We  nave  been  at  Paris  a  fortnight,  and  I  live  with 
CcUna  in  her  hufband's  houfe,  which  is  fo  diftant  horn 
tnat  cf  iier  brother,  that  1  am  not  obliged  to  fte  him 
erery  hour.  He  oiten  comes  hither  to  eut :  but  Ceiina 
and  1  live  togetlier  in  fuch  a  huriy,  thac  he  has  not  leifure 
to  fpeak.  with  me  in  private. 

Since  our  return,  we  employ  part  of  the  day  in  the 
trrti"orri:i  work  or  dieffing  curftives,  anvl  tne  icli  in  what 
they  caii  here  paying  or  vifits.  Thele  tv/o  occupations 
j'.Tin  to  me  quite  as  unprofitable  as  they  aie  raiiguing, 
it  the  latter  did  not  procure  ir.e  the  means  ot  iniorming 
mylclf  more  parciculariy  of  the  culloms  ot  the  country. 

At  my  arrival  m  France,  not  underitanding  the  lan- 
guage, i  couidjuogeot  things  only  by  their  ouifide.  As 
1  had  little  inlhxiciion  in  the  religious  houi't,  I  tound  the 
country  luiTied  to  no  better  account,  where  I  faw  only  a 
particular  iociety,  with  vv-h.-ch  i  was  too  much  tired  to 
examine  it.  It  is  here  only,  that,  by  convening  vi-ith 
■  lit  they  call  the  great  world,  I  fee  the  whole  nation. 
l"he  vifits  and  devoirs  that  we  pay.  confiil  in  going  to 
2s  peat  a  number  of  houfes  as  poliible,  thereto  give  and 
receive  a  reciprocal  tribute  or  praiie  upon  the  bcaiuy  of 
tuv  J;  ccs  and  ihapes,  the  excellence  of  cur  talle,  and  the 
judicious  clioice  of  cv.r  drefits 

k  was  not  long^before  I  difcovered  the  reafcn   that 
:.  -de  us  take  fo  iriuci  pahis  to  acquire  this  homage,      C 
H  '  tin.1 


S6  THE    PERliVlAN    PRINCESS, 

find  it  Is,  becaiii'c  there  is  anectflity  of  receiving  in  perfon 
this  momentaiy  incenfe :  tor  no  Iboner  does  any  one  dif- 
appe^r,  but -flie  takes  another  ioim.  The  charms  that 
vv-ere  found  in  her  that  goes  outlerve  only  to  make  a  con- 
temptuous ccmparilcn,  in  order  to  eftabiilh  the  perfections 
of  her  who  conies  in. 

Cenfure  is  the  reigning  tafte  of  the  French,  as  inco- 
herence is  the  charatter  of  their  nation.  In  their  books, 
you  find  the  general  criiicifm  of  human  manners,  and  in 
their  converiktion  that  of  every  particular  peribn,  provid- 
ed he  be  abfent.  What  they  call  the  mode,  has  not  al- 
tered the  ancient  ufage  of  faying  freely  all  the  ill  they  can 
of  ethers,  and  fometimcs  even  more  than  they  tnink. 
People  cf  the  beft  behaviour  {ciiow  the  cullom,  and  are 
dillmguilhed  only  by  a  certain  fannal  apology  they  make 
for  their  fi-aiiknefs  and  love  of  truth :  which  once  over, 
they  reveal  the  faults,  the  ridicules,  and  even  the  vices, 
of  others  without  f  cruple,  not  iparmg  even  their  btft 
friends. 

As  the  iincerity  which  the  French  ufe  to  one  another 
is  without  exception,  lb  their  reciprocal  contidence  is 
without  bounds.  One  need  have  neither  eloquence  to  be 
heard,  nor  probity  to  obtain  belief.  Eveiy  thing  is  faid 
*  every  thing  is  rece.ved,  with  the  liime  levity.  Yet  I 
vv.'uld  not  have  you  think,  my  dear  Aza,  that  the  French 
:.re  in  general  bom  witn  bad  inclinaticns  :  I  ihould  be 
•n-.cre  unjuil  than  they  if  I  left  you  in  fuch  an  error. 

Naturally  fufceptible  of  virtuous  fentiments,  1  never 
favv  oneof  them  that  was  not  melted  at  the  hiltory,  which 
they  oblige  me  often  to  give  them,  of  the  re6l:itude  cf 
our  hearts,  the  candour  of  our  fentiments,  and  the  fm;- 
phcity  of  cur  manners.  If  they  lived  amongil  us,  they 
would  becoa-.e  virtuous  :  but  example  and  cullom  are  the 
tyrants  by  which  they  are  fwayed. 

A  man  of  good  iL-nfe  fpcaks  ill  of  the  abfent,  becaufe 
he  v/ouid  not  bit  difuifed  bv  thofe  who  are  prelent :  ano- 
ther would  be  hoUvit,  humane,  and  without  pride,  it  he 
<iid  not  jear  being  ridiculous  \  and  a  th  rd  becomes  rit  i- 
vulous  throTifih  lutl)  qualities,  as  wcuid  make  him  anio- 


THE     PiRUMAN    PRIXCtS?.  S7 

del  of  periefllon  if  he  dared  to  exert  them,  and  afTurae  his 
JuIl  merit. 

In  a  word,  my  dearAza,  their  vices  are  artificial  as  vrcll 
as  tlieir  v'.rtuea,  and  the  nivoloufhefs  of  their  character 
pennirs  them  to  be  bat  imperfectly  what  they  are.  Like 
the  plav  things  they  give  their  children,  the'e  whimfical 
people  fhew  onlya  i'aintrel'emblance  of  the  thinking  beings 
they  lliould  appear.  You  have  weight,  ibftneis,  colour, 
and  upon  tlie  whole  a  fair  outfide,  without  any  real  va- 
lue, ilccordingly  they  are  efteemed  by  other  nations 
onlv  as  tlie  pretty  toys  and  trifles  offociety.  Good  ienfe 
finlles  at  their  genteel  airs,  and  coldly  ranks  them  in 
their  proper  place.,  Happy  the  nation  which  lias  nature 
ojily  fcr  its  guide,  truth  for  its  mover,  and  virtue  for  its 
principle ! 

LETTER  XXXr, 
To  AzA:  injujlice  of  the  Yrefich  to  'wormii. 

IT  is  not  fui-prifjng,  my  dear  Aza,  that  incoherence  is 
a  confequence  of  the  ixcv  chara^ier  of  the  French  ; 
but  I  cannot  be  enough  furpriied  that  they,  with  as  much 
or  mere  penetration  than  any  other  nation,  feem  not  to 
perceive  the  fliccking  contradiClions  which  foreigners  re- 
mark in  them  at  the  firfi:  fight. 

Among  the  great  number  of  ihofe  which  ftrike  me  every 
day,  I  do  not  fee  any  one  that  more  difhonours  their  un- 
derftanding,  than  their  manner  of  thinking  with  regai'd 
to  women.  They  refpeCl  them,  ray  dear  Aza,  and  at 
the  fame  time  deipife  them  wirh  equal  excefs. 

Ti^e  firit  law  of  their  politenefs,  or  virtue  (I  do  not 
know  that  they  have  any  othe.v)  regards  the  women.  A 
man  of  the  h'gheft  rank  owes  the  utmoft  complaifance  to 
a  v/;ni3n  of  themolf  vileccnditior,  and  would  blufh  for 
fhame,  and  think  himfelf ridiculous  in  the  higheft  degree, 
if  he  offered  lier  any  perfonal  infult.  And  yet  a  m.an  of 
the  leaft  confideration  and  credit  may  deceive  and  betray 
a  woman  of  merit,  and  blacken  her  reputation  without 
fear  of  either  blame  or  pun  fhment. 

If  I  wa'^  not  afiured  that  thou  wilt  foon  be  a  judge  of 
thefe  things  thyfelf,  fcarce  fnoidd  I  dare  paint  to  thee 
H  a  fuch 


88  THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS. 

iuch  contrafts  as  the  fimplicity  of  our  minds  cannot  with- 
out pain  conceive.  Docile  to  the  notions  of  nature,  our 
genius  proceeds  no  farther :  we  have  found  that  the 
ftrength  and  courage  of  one  fex  indicates  that  it  ought  to 
be  the  fupport  and  defence  of  the  other,  and  our  laws  are 
conformable  to  this  difcovery.*  Here,  far  from  com- 
pafllonating  the  weakncl's  of  women,  thofe  of  the  com- 
mon people,  tied  down  to  labour,  have  no  relief  either 
from  the  laws  or  their  hufbands.  Thofe  of  more  elevated 
rank,  the  prey  either  of  the  feduftion  or  malice  of  men, 
have  no  recompence  for  the  perfidies  impofed  on  them, 
txcept  a  fliew  of  merely  imaginary  out  fide  refpeft,  which 
is  continually  followed  by  the  moft  ftmglng  fat  ire. 

I  perfeclly  well  perceived,  when  I  firft  converl'ed  in  the 
world  here,  that  the  habitual  ceniure  of  the  nation  'alls 
principally  upon  the  women,  and  that  the  men  do  not 
defj)ife  one  another  without  fom.e  caution  or  referve.  I 
looked  for  the  caufe  of  this  in  their  good  qualities,  wheu 
an  accident  revealed  it  to  me  among  their  defedls. 

In  all  the  houfes  we  have  entered  for  two  days  pad,  we 
have  been  told  of  the  death  of  a  youne  man  killed  by  one 
of  his  friends,  and  the  barbarous  aclion  is  approved  of 
for  no  other  reafon,  but  becaufe  the  dead  had  fpoken  to 
the  difadvantage  of  the  livinjj.  This  new  extravagance 
feemed  of  io  ferious  a  character,  as  to  deferve  my  cx- 
a6lelt  inquiry.  Upon  information,  my  dear  Aza,  I 
learned  that  a  man  is  obliged  to  expofe  his  life  to  take 
away  that  of  another,  if  he  hears  that  this  other  has  been 
talking  againit  him  ;  or  to  banifh  himfelf  from  fociety, 
if  he  refufes  to  take  fo  cruel  a  vengeance.  I  wanted  to 
be  told  no  more,  in  order  to  form  a  clear  idea  of  what  I 
fought.  It  is  certain  that  the  men,  naturally  cowards, 
without  fiiame,  and  without  remorl'e,  are  afraid  only  of 
corporal  punifnmcnts.  And  if  the  women  were  authori- 
fcd  to  punifii  the  outrages  offered  them  in  the  fame  man- 
ner, as  the  men  are  obliged  to  revenge  the  fliglKeft  in- 
i'ult  offered  to  one  another,  fuch  perfons  as  we  iee  now 

v^ell 
*  The  Peruvian  laws  difpenfe  the  women  from  all  hard  bodily 
labour. 


THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS.  ^9 

well  received  in  foclety,  would  not  be  fo  any  longer* 
The  flanderer  inuft  retire  into  a  defert,  and  there  hide  his 
malice  and  his  fhaine.  But  cowards  have  iiothing  to 
fear,  and  Irave  too  well  founded  this  abufe  to  fee  it  ever 
abolished. 

Impudence  and  efFronver\'  are  the  fird  fentiments  that 
the  men  are  infpired  with  :  timidity,  gentlenefs,  and  pa- 
tience, are  the  fole  virtues  that  are  cultivated  in  the  v/o- 
men  :  How  then  are  thefe  to  avoid  being  the  viftlms  of 
impunity  ?  O  my  dear  Aza,  let  not  the  brilliant  vices 
of  a  nation,  othcrwife  charming,  give  us  a  difguft  of  the 
natural  fimplicity  of  our  own  manners !  Let  us  not  for- 
get ;  thou,  the  obligation  thou  art  under  to  be  my  exam- 
ple, my  guide  and  my  fupport  in  the  path  of  virtue  ;  I, 
the  duty  that  lies  on  m,e  to  pre/erve  thy  efteem  and  thy 
love,  by  imitating  my  model,  even  by  furpafTingitif  pof- 
fible,  and  meriting  a  refpecl  founded  on  virtue,  and  not 
on  a  frivolous  cuitcm. 

LETTER  XXXII. 

73  Aza  :  ^/he  is  conducted  by  furprife  to  ker  country -houfe^ 

'vjhat  pajfes  there. 

OUR  viiits  and  fatigues,  my  dear  A2a,  could  not 
end  m.ore  agreeably.  "What  a  delicious  day  did  I 
fpend  yeiterday  !  How  pleafant  are  already  the  new  obli- 
garions,  which  Detennlle  and  his  filler  confer  on  me!  and 
how  dear  will  they  be  when  I  can  partake  them  with 
thee !  After  two  days  rell,  we  fet  cut  yelf erday  morning 
from  Paris,  Celina,.  her  brother,  her  hufband,  and  I, 
to  go,  as  flie  told  m.e,  and  pay  a  vidt  to  the  beft  of  her 
friends.  The  journey  was  hot  long,  and  we  arrived 
early  in  the  day  at  a  countrj'-houfe,  the  fituation 
and  avenues  of  which  appeared  to  me  admirable  :  but 
V.  h."t  alloniJhed  me  at  going  in  was,  to  find  all  the  doors 
open,  and  not  to  meet  a  fmgle  |>eribn. 

Tnis  houfe,  too  pretty  to  be  abandoned,  too  fmallto 
hide  the  people  which  ihould  inhabit  it,  feemed  to  i»s/a 
kind  of  enchantmCiit.  I  was  diverted  with  the  thought, 
and  afked  Celina  if  we  were  in  the  dwelling  of  one  pf 
triofe  I'airies,  of  \vhom  Ihe  has  mademereadthehiftcriesa 
H  x  where 


90  THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS, 

wnere  themiftreis  of  the  maniion  and  her  domeftics  were 
all  invlfible. 

*  You  fhall  fee  the  miftrefs/  anfwered  fliej  *  but,  as 

*  impurrant  affairs  have  called  her  away  for  tlie  whole 
^  day,  fhe  has  charged  me  to  pievail  on  you  to  do  the 

*  honours  of  her  houfe  during  her  abience/  She  added, 
laughing,  *  Let  us  fee  how  you  will  get  off.'  I  came 
readily  into  the  joke,  and  put  on  a  ferious  air,  to  copy 
the  compliments  which  I  had  heard  made  on  like  occa- 
fions.     They  told  me  I  acquitted  mylclf  pretty  well. 

After  amufmg  ourfelves  for  fome  time  in  this  manner, 
Celina  faid,  *  This  polltenels  would  be  iullicient  to  give- 

*  us  a  good  reception  at  Pa'-ls  j  but,  jnadam,  fcmething 
'  more  mull  be  done  in  the  country.  W\]\  you  not  have 
'  the  good ne is  to alk  us  to  dinner?'  '  Upon  this  head,' 
{aid  I,  '   I  am  not  knowing  enough  to  give  you  latis- 

*  faftion,  and  I  begin  to  icarthat  your  triend  has  relied 

*  too  much  on  my  caie.'  *  I  know  a  remedy  for  that,' 
anfwered  Celina;    *  if  you  will  only  take  the  pains  to 

*  write  your  name,  you  lliall  iee  that  it  is  notibdifncuif 

*  as  you  think  to  treat  your  friends  well.'  *  You  give 
'  meconiiort,'  faid  I  j  '  let  me  write  immediately.' 

I  had  no  Iboner  pronounced  thefe  words,  but  I  faw  a 
man  come  in  dielfed  in  black,  with  a  ftandifn  in  bis 
hand,  and  paper  already  writ  upon.  They  placed  it  be- 
fore me,  and  1  wrote  my  name  where  I  was  directed.  At 
that  inftant  another  well  looking  man  appeared,  who  in- 
vited us,  in  the  ui'ual  manner,  to  attend  him  into  the 
dining  room.  We  theie  foundatable  coveied  with  equal 
propriety  and  magnihcence:  Icaice  were  vce  ieaLcil  wiieii 
delightful  mufic  was  licard  in  the  next  room  :  noth.ngia 
/hort,  was  wan*-ing  that  could  render  a  repan  agrceablr. 
Detervlile  himlclf  feenicd  to  have  forgot  hib  n^eianchoiy, 
in  order  to  makeus  merry  :  he  exprcfied  his  palTion  tojr.c 
in  a  thoufand  manncis,  but  always  in  a  picafant  toi.^, 
without  complaints  or  reproaches. 

The  day  was  lerene,  and,  with  common  confent,  \vc 
agreed  to  walk  w;\i;n  we  roie  from  table.  We  found  the 
;^jrde)is  njucn  nioj'e  exteniive  tlijii  riic  houie  fecmed  fu 


THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS.  gi 

prc7Tiife:  art  and  lymincti-y  made  themielves  admired, 
by  uniting  to  render  the  charms  of  liniple  nature  n.ore 
ti'anlponing.  The  end  or  our  walk,  was  a  wood,  which 
terminates  this  fine  garilen:  there  iitting  all  four  on  a 
tkiightful  turf,  we  beg;m  already  to  indulge  that  reverie 
which  natural  beauties  niituraily  inrpire,whcn,tlu-ough  the 
trees,  we  law  coming  on  onellde  a  cojnpany  of  peafants, 
properly  drclli;d  in  their  iTianner,  preceded  by  fome  in- 
ftnunents  or  mufic,  and,  on  the  other  fide,  a  company 
C't  young  lailcs,  dreiTcd  m  white,  their  heads  adoiTicd  with 
dowers  of  the  field,  who  fung  in  a  rullic,  but  melodious 
iPianner,  fongs,  in  which,  to  my  furprile,  I  heard  my 
own  name  often  repeated. 

My  aitonifliment  was  much  gi'eater,  when  the  two 
companies  being  come  up  to  us,  the  molt  diilinguirtied 
man  quitted  his,  kneeled  down  on  one  knee,  andprefented 
to  me,  in  a  large  baibn,  fcveral  keys,  with  a  compliment 
which  my  perplexity,  did  not  futter  me  to  undeiftand  : 
I  only  comprehended  in  it,  that  being  the  chief  of  the 
villr.gcrs  in  that  country,  he  came  to  do  me  homiage  in 
quality  of  their  foverelgn,  and  prefcnt  me  with  the  keys 
ot  the  houfe  of  which  I  was  ahb  the  mllrrefs. 

As  foon  as  he  had  ended  his  harangue,  herofetomake 
room  for  tlie  prtttiek  of  the  young  daniiels  :  ihe  prefented 
me  with  abxmdieofnowers  adorned  with  ribbands,  which 
ijie  accompanied  alfo  with  a  fliort  difcourfe  in  mypraife, 
delivered  wih  a  good  grace.  I  was  too  much  corifuied, 
my  dear  Aza,  toanlwer  eulogies  which  1  lb  little  dcl'erv- 
ed  j'ctherwife,  every  thing  that  palTed  had  an  uir  fo  re- 
icnibiing  that  of  tiiath,  that  many  times  I  could  not  help 
believing  what  nevcrthelcfs  I. thought  incredible.  This 
thought  produced  a  variety  of  others,  and  my  mind  was 
fo  engaged,  that  it  was  impofiible  tor  me  to  fpeak  a  v.'ord. 
It  my  conruficn  was  diverting  K)  the  company,  it  was 
not  io  to  m.yiclf. 

Dctervilic  was  the  firft  who  took  pity  of  me:  he  made 
a  fig-n  to  his  fifter,  who,  after  having  given  lome  pieces 
oi  gold  to  tile  lads  and  lailes,  and  toid  theni  that  thofe 
vwic  the  taiiivil  of  my  kindnefs  towards   them,  arofe, 

and 


9i  THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS, 

and  propofed  to  take  a  turn  into  the  wood.  I  followed 
her  with  pleafure,  intending  to  have  reproached  her  hear- 
tily tor  the  dilovder  ftie  h:.cl  put  me  into :  but  I  h?.d  not 
time  ;  for  fcarce  had  we  taken  half  a  dozen  Heps  before 
ihe  Hopped,  and,  looking  on  me  with  a  fmillng  counte- 
nance, '  Tell  me,  Ziiia,'  faid  fhe,  '  are  you  n:t  very 

*  angiy  with  us  ?  and  will  ycu  not  be  more  fo  if  I  ad'ure 

*  you,  that  this  land  and  this  houfe  do  in  very  truth  be- 

*  long  to  you  ?' 

«  To  nie?'  cried  I.     *  Ah  Celina,    whether  it  be  an 

*  atfront  or  a  jcft,  you  carry  it  too  far/  *  Hear  me," 
faid  (he,  more  ferioufly :   '  if  my  brother  has  difpofed  of 

*  fome  parts  cF  your  treaiure  to  purchafe  it,  and,  iniread 
'  of  the  difagreeable  tormalities  that  would  have  been 

*  othciwife  nectflary,    reicrved  to  you  only  the  furprils 

*  when  the  thing  was  done,  ought  you  to  hate  us  moi- 

*  tally  for  fo  doing?     Cannot  ycu  pardon  us  for  having 

*  procured  you,  at  all  events,    fuch  a  dwelling  as  you 

*  have  feemed  to  like,  and  for  having  fecui-ed  to  you  an 

*  independent  life  ?     You,  this  morning,  fgned  the  au- 

*  thentic  deed  that  puts  ycu  in  poIftfTion  of  both.  Mir- 
'  mur  at  us  new  as  much  as  you  pleafe,'  added  fhe,  fmii- 
ing  again,  '  if  nothing  of  all  this  be  agreeable  to  you/ 

*  Oh  ray  anfiable  friend!'  cried  I,  throv.ing  myfelf 
at  her  feet,  '   I  have'  too  lively  a  ienle  of  your  genercup 

*  cares  to  exprefs  my  acknowledgment."'  Thcf'e  fe\r 
words  were  all  I  was  able  to  utter,  my  fecrct  v.idi  hav  ■ 
ing  before  been  to  have  fuch  an  independency.  Meltin  c 
in  rapturous  tranlports,  wliilcl  reflected  on  theplcafuir. 
I  ihculd  have  in  confecraring  to  thee  this  charming  abode, 
the  multitude  of  my  fentlments  If  fled  the  exprellions  c  i" 
them.  I  embraced  Ceiina,  who  repaid  my  careflirs  wiiji 
the  fame  tendernefsj  and,  after  having  given  me  time'o 
recover  mylelf,  we  returned  to  her  brother  and  her  luii- 
band. 

Trouble  fclzed  me  again  when  I  came  near  DetcrvU'e. 
and  caufed  a  frefli  perplexity  in  m.y  exprefJloni.  1  gavs 
him  my  hand,  which  he  killed  without  fpeaking  a  wo;d, 
anJ  turned  afitie  to  hide  the  tears  he  cou.d  not  reftrain  .. 

\vi.i:i) 


THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS.  c^J 

which  I  took  for  figns  of  his  fatisfaftion  on  feeing  me 
fo  contented .  1  was  fo  moved  myfclf  as  to  fhcd  lome 
likcwife.  CeUna's  huiband,  lefs  concerned  than  we  at 
will!:  had  paffcd,  foon  turned  the  converfation  again  into 
a  picafant  vein  :  he  complimented  me  on  my  new  digni- 
ties, and  prevailed  on  me  to  return  to  the  houie,  in  order, 
as  he  faid,  to  examine  the  defefts  of  it,  and  Ihew  Deter- 
ville  that  his  talle  was  not  ib  good  as  he  flattered  himielf. 
Shall  I  coutefs  to  thee,  my  dear  Aza,  that  every  thing 
on  our  way  feemed  now  to  put  on  a  new  form  j  that  the 
flowers  appeared  more  beautiful,  the  trees  more  verdant, 
and  the  lymmetry  ot  the  garden  more  complete. 

I  tound  more  conveniency  in  the  houfe,  more  richnefs 
in  the  furniture,  and  the  iinallell  trifle  became  now  a 
Kiatter  of  concern  to  me. 

I  ran  through  the  apartments  infucha  rapture  of  joy, 
that  I  did  not  examine  any  thing  minutely  :  the  only 
place  I  flopped  in  v/as  a  room  moderately  large,  fur- 
rounded  With  cafes  curioully  wrought,  and,  covered  with 
goid,  in  which  there  were  a  great  number  of  books  of 
all  colours,  of  all  foniis,  and  admirably  neat.  I  was 
lb  enchanted,  that  I  thought  I  could  not  have  left  them 
till  I  had  read  tl:em  all ;  but  Celina  pulled  me  away, 
putting  me  in  mind  of  a  golden  key  which  Deter\'ille  had 
given  me.  We  endeavoured  to  make  ufe  of  it  j  but  our 
endeavours  would  have  been  in  vain,  if  hehadnotfliewn 
us  tiie  door  it  was  to  open ;  which  was  fo  artihcially  con- 
cealed in  the  wainfcot,  that  it  had  been  impofTible  to 
diicoverit  v/ithout  knowing  the  fecrct. 

I  opened  it  haitily,  and  itjod  immoveable  at  the  fight 
of  the  magniiictnce  it  had  encloied. 

It  was  a  cloi'et  all  brilliant  with  glafs  and  painting  : 
the  ground  of  the  wainfcoi  was  green,  adorned  with 
figures  extremely  well  dehgned,  and  imiraang  part  of  the 
Iports  and  ceremonies  of  the  city  of  the  Sun,  in  luch man- 
ner as  I  had  reiaced  them  to  Deterville. 

Virgins  were  there  feen  repreferited  in  a  thcufand  places, 
in  the  fame  drels  that  I  wore  when  I  came  into  France  i 
and  I  was  even  told  that  they  were  like  me.  The 


r>4  THE    PEP.UVIAl^    PRINCESS. 

The  ornsments  of  the  temple,  which  I  had  left  in  thr 
reli^^ious  houle,  fuppcrted  by  gilt  pyramids,  adorned  all 
the  coiners  of  this  magnificent  cabinet.  The  figure  of 
the  Sun,  fufpended  in  the  raidftof  aceiling  painted  with 
the  molt  beautiful  colours  of  the  heavens,  completed,  by 
its  luftre,  the  embellifhment  of  this  charming  folltudej 
and  ccmmcdious  moveables,  fuited  to  the  paintings  ren- 
dered the  whole  delicious. 

In  examining  more  nearly  what  I  was  ravlfhedto  find 
again,  I  perceived  that  the  golden  chair  was  v/anting  : 
though  I  avoided  fpeaking  of  it,  DetervilJie  giiefled  my 
thoughts,  and  feized  that  moment  to  cxprefs  himiclf. — 

*  You  fearch  in  vain,'  laid  he,  *  fair  Zilia  :    the  chair 

*  of  the  Incas,  by  a  magical  power,  is  transformed  into 
«  a  houfe,  a  garden,  andaneftate:  if  I  have  not  em- 
«  ployed  my  own  fcience  in  this  metamorphofis,  it  was 

*  not  without  regret  j  ,but  it  was  neceffary  to  fhew  refpeci: 

*  to  your  delicacy.  See  here,'  added  he,  opening  a  little 
buffet  that  v/as  dexterouflv  funk  into  the  wall,  *  .thefe 

*  are  the  remains  of  the  magical  operation.''  At  the 
fametimehef;iewedme  afcrongbox  tuil  of  pieces  of  gold, 
dil  of  the  French  coin.     *  You  know,'   continued  he, 

*  that  this  is  not  one  of  the  leall  neceffary  things  among 

*  us,  and  I  thought  it  my  duty  to  preferve  you  a  fmafi 

*  proviiion  of  it.' 

I  began  to  exprefs  my  grateful  thanks,  and  the  admi- 
ration I  was  in  of  lb  many  preventing  cares,  when  Ce- 
lina  iriteriT.pted  rae,  and  pulled  me  into  a  room  by  the 
fide  of  this  maiTelious  clofct.       *   I  would,'    laid  f]ie, 

*  fliew  you  the  power  of  my  art  alfo.'  Large  drawers 
were  then  opened,  full  of  rich  filks,  linens,  ornaments, 
in  a  word,  of  Vv-hatever  is  worn  in  the  drefs  of  women, 
all  in  fuch  abundance,  that  I  cculd  not  help  laughing, 
and  allying  Celina  how  many  years  fhe  delired  me  to  live, 
to  make  ufe  of  fo  many  fine  things  ?      *  As  long  as  I 

*  and  my  brother  live,'  anfweieci  (lie.     *  And  for  my 

*  part,'  replied  I,  <  I  defire  you  may  both  live  as  long 

*  as  I  love  you,  then  I  am  lure  you  will  not  die  before 

*  me.'  As 


THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS.  95 

As  I  ended  theie  words,  we  rc;turncd  into  the  temple 
-.  tlie  Sun,  which  is  the  name  they  ^ave  to  t'a^t  won- 
derful clolet  :  and,  having  at  laft  irecdoin  of  utrerance, 
I  exprelled  the  fentiments  of  ray  heart  ju  ft  as  Ii'ekthejn. 
What  goodneis !  what  a  train  of  virtues  in  thefe  pro- 
ceedings of  the  brother  and  liller ! 

We  fpent  the  reft  of  the  day  in  the  delights  of  confi- 
dence and  friendfhip.  I  endeavoured  to  regale  them  at 
fupper  Itill  more  gaily  than  I  had  done  at  dinner.  I 
gave  ordeis  freely  to  the  i'ervants,  wdiich  I  knew  to  be 
mine;  jefted  upon  my  authority  and  cpuleriCe,  and  did 
all  in  mv  power  to  render  their  own  benefits  agreeable  to 
my  benefactors. 

I  fancied,  however,  that  I  perceived,  in  proportion 
as  time  wore  away,  that  Dcterville  icil  again  into  his 
melancholy,  and  even  that  Celina  let  drop  fome  tears 
between  whiles ;  but  they  both  fo  readily  rcfumed  a  ferene 
air,  that  I  again  thought  myfelf  deceived. 

I  endeavoured  to  prevail  on  them  to  ftay  fome  days, 
and  enjoy  with  me  the  good  fortune  they  had  prccuied. 
This  I  could  not  obtain  :  we  came  back  the  fame  night, 
prominng  ourfelves  to  return  ipeedily  to  my  enchan:ed 
pal  ice. 

O  my  dear  Aza,  how  great  v^ill  be  rny  felicity  vi-hen 
I  can  inhabit  it  with  tnec ! 

LETTER  XXXni. 
To  Aza  :  intcrrupisd  by  bis  arrrjah 
**  i  ^KE  forrow  of  Deterviiie  and  his  nfter,  my  dear 
X  Aza,  has  contmued  to  augment  f.ncc  our  return 
irom  my  enchanted  palace.  Thev  are  both  fo  dear  to 
ine,  that  I  could  not  forbear  being  earnetl:  with  them  to 
dhcover  to  me  the  motive  of  it :  but,  feeing  them  ob- 
ftinately  nlent  upon  the  fubject,  I  did  not  dou'ot  but 
fome  new  misforrune  had  retarded  thy  journey  ;  and,  in 
H  fn^rt  time,  my  uneafmefs,  of  whicii  I  did  not  dlfiem- 
ble  the  caufe,  overcame  the  refciufion  of  my  amiable 
fii-njs.  Dcterville  confeiled  that  he  had  detei-mined  to 
c  nceal  from  me  tlie  day  of  thy  arrival,  in  order  to  fur- 
priiirme,   but  that  my  Inc^uietyd;  made  him  rellnqii!ii> 

his 


96  THE    PERUVIAN    TRINCESS. 

his  defign:  in  taft,  Ihe  Ihewed  me  a  -letter  from  the 
guide  which  he  caufed  to  be  appointed  thee,  and  by  the 
calculation  ol:  the  time,  and  the  place  where  it  was  wrote, 
he  made  me  underltand  that  thou  mayelt  be  here  to-mor- 
row, to-day,  or  even  this  very  monivint  j  in  fhort,  that 
I  have  no  more  time  to  meaiure,  till  the  inltant  arrives 
which  will  crown  all  my  vows. 

^  Having  gone  thus  tar,  Deterville  did  not  hefitate  tel- 
ling me  all  the  relt  of  his  diipolitions  ;  he  ihewed  me  the 
apartment  which  he  dellined  for  thee ;  tor  tiiou  Wiit 
lodge  here,  till,  united  together,  decency  permii-s  us  to 
inhabit  niy  delicious  caitle.  I  will  not  ioie  fight  ot 
thee  any  more  J  nothing  ihnil  leparate  us:  Dcten'ilie 
has  provided  every  thing,  and  convinced  me  more  than 
everot  the  excels  of  his  generofity.  After  he  had  given 
me  thefe  inicnnations,  I  was  no  longer  to  fcek  for  the 
caufe  of  that  forrow  which  devours  him.  It  is  thy  near 
arrival:  I  p:ty  him,  I  compalhonate  his  grief,  and 
wifh  him  an  happincis,  independent  of  my  lentiinents, 
which  may  be  a  worthy  recompence  of  his  virtue.  I 
dllfemble  even  a  partot  the  traniports  of  my  joy,  that  I 
may  not  irritate  his  pain.  This  is  all  I  can  do  :  but  my 
own  felicity  engages  me  too  much  for  me  to  keep  it  en- 
tirely hidden:  thcrcfoie,  though  I  believe  thee  very 
near  me,  though  my  heart  leaps  at  the  lealt  nuiie, 
though  I  interrupt  my  letter  aimoll  at  every  word  to 
run  to  the  window,  yet  I  continue  writing  to  thee  j  find- 
ing this  relief  to  the  tranfports  of  my  heart  neceliary. 
Thou  art  near  me,  'tis  true :  but  is  thy  ablence  lefs 
real  than  if  we  were  (fill  leparated  by  the  leas !  I  do  not 
fee  thee :  tiiou  canil  not  hear  me :  why  then  ihould  I 
ccafe  to  converfe  wi<-h  thee  by  the  only  means  in  my 
power  ?  But  a  moment  more,  and  I  Ihall  fee  thee :  but 
this  moment  does  not  yet  exift.  Can  I  better  employ  fo 
much  of  thy  abfcr.ce,  as  I  am  yet  to  bear,  than  by 
painting  to  thee  the  vivacity  o-^  my  tendcriicfs  ?  Aias  ! 
thou  hult  hitherto  f.en  it  breathing  in  fighs  only  1  Let 
tliat  tune  be  fai- tiom  me!  with  what  tram  port  will   it 

be 


THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS.  97 

be  efFaced  from  my  memory !  Aza,  dear  Aza  1  kow 
I'wect  is  that  name  to  me !  Very  loon  I  fhall  no  longer 
call  thee  in  vain  :  thou  wilt  hear  me,  and  fiy  to  my  voice. 
The  moll  tender  exprcffions  of  my  heart  lliall  be  the  re- 

wai'd  of  thy  haile. 1  am  interrupted  :  it  is  not  by 

ttiee,  and  yet  I  mull  quit  this  ccn venation  with  thee. 
LETTER  XXXIV. 
To  the  Chenjolier  Dhterville,  at  Malta :  fie  reproach- 
es him  for  his  judden  departure ^  and  relates  the  coldnefs  of 
Aza. 

WERE  you  able,  Sir,  to  forefee,  without  reluft- 
ance,  the  mortal  chagrin  you  were  going  to  join 
to  the  happinefs  you  had  prepared  for  me  ?  How  could 
you  ha'/e  the  cruelty  to  c:iuie  your  departure  to  be  pre- 
ceded by  fuch  agreeable  circumltances,  by  iuch  weighty 
motives  of  gratitude,  unlefs  it  were  to  render  me  more 
fenfible  of  your  defpair  and  your  ab fence  ?  1  hough  but 
two  days  ago  wrapt  up  in  the  fweets  of  fr.endihip,  I 
now  feel  theaioft  bitter  anxiety.  Celina,  all  alBicled  as 
Ihe  is,  has  but  too  well  executed  your  orders  5  Ihe  pre- 
fented  to  me  Aza  with  one  hand,  and  your  cruel  letter 
v.'ith  the  other.  At  the  completion  of  niy  vows  grief 
darted  through  my  foul :  while  I  foimd  the  object  of 
my  tender  love,  I  did  not  forget  that  I  loll  that  of  ail 
my  other  fentiments.  Ah  Detei-ville !  how  inhuman 
this  once  is  your  love.  But  do  not  hope  to  execute  your 
unjurt  refolution  to  the  utmoll.  The  fea  /hall not  make 
a  total  feparation  betwixt  perfons  fo  dear  to  each  other  : 
my  name  ftiail  reach  you  :  you  ihall  receive  mv  letters, 
you  iliall  hear  my  prayers  :  blood  and  triendlhip  lliall 
relume  their  rights  over  your  heart,  and  you  Ihall  reitore 
yourleif  to  a  family,  to  which  I  am  rel'ponlible  for  your 
lofs.  What!  in  rccompence  of  fo  many  benefits,  ihall 
I  poilbn  all  your  days,  and  thole  of  your  filler?  Shall  1 
break  fo  tender  an  union  ?  Shall  I  fix  defpair  in  your 
hearts,  while  I  ftill  enjoy  your  bounties  ?  No,  think 
not  ot  it.  I  look  on  mylelt  with  hoirorinahoufewhich 
i  fill  v/ith  mourning  :  1  acknowledge  your  cares  in  the 
good  Ucatment  I  receive  from  Celina,  at  tiie  very  time 
I  when 


9?  THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS. 

when  I  could  pardon  her  tor  hatuig  me.  But  whatever 
thoie  cares  are,  I  renounce  them  all,  and  remove  for 
ever  from  a  phce  which  I  cannot  bear,  unlefsycu  return. 
Detei-vilJe,  how  very  blind  you  are !  What  error  is  it 
that  hurries  you  away  in  a  defign  fo  contraiy  to  your 
views'.  You  would  render  me  happy,  and  you  only 
inake  me  culpable  :  you  would  dry  up  my  tears,  and 
you  caufe  them  to  flow  :  by  your  abfence  you  deftroy  all 
ihe  fruit  of  your  felf-denial. 

Alas  !  you  would  have  found  but  too  much  delight 
in  that  intei^view  which  you  dreaded  as  fo  very  foniii- 
dable !  This  Aza,  the  objeft  of  fo  much  love,  is  no 
mere  the  fame  Aza,  that  I  have  painted  to  you  in  fuch 
tender  colours.  The  coldnefs  of  his  approach,  the 
praiies  of  the  Spaniards,  vv-ith  which  he  a  hundred  times 
inteiTupted  the  foft  overflowings  of  my  foul,  the  olfen- 
five  curiolity  which  fnatched  him  from  my  traufpurts  to 
vifit  the  rarities  of  Paris  3  all  make  me  in  dread  of  ills 
at  which  my  heart  fnudders.  Oh  Detei-viile!  perhaps 
you  may  not  be  long  the  m-oft  unhappy.  If  ccmpafnon 
of  yourielf  can  w^ork  nothing  on  you,  let  the  duties  of 
friendiiiip  call  you  back :  friendihip  is  the  only  aiylum 
of  unfortunate  love.  If  the  ills  that  I  dread  fhould 
overwhelrn  me,  what  will  you  not  hive  to  reproach  your- 
felf  with  ?  If  you  abandon  me,  where  fhall  I  find  a 
heart  fenfible  of  my  pains  ?  h.hall  generofity,  hithtito 
tlie  moll  potent  of>your  pafiions,  give  v\'ay  at  lall  to  dif- 
contentcd  love :  No  j  I  cannot  believe  it :  fuch  a  weak-^ 
Tiefs  would  be  unworthy  of  you :  you  are  incapable  of 
delivering  yourfelf  up  to  it :  but  come  and  convince  me, 
if  you  love  your  own  gl^rv,  and  mv  repofe. 

LETTER  XXXV. 
To  the  Che-jaVier  Dlterville,  at  Malta  :  farther  ac- 
count o/"Aza"s  injidelityi  and  her  (tjjh  pajjlon. 
IF  you  were  not  the  molt  noble  of  creatures.  Sir,  I 
ihouid  be  the  moll  abjc6t.  If  you  had  not  the  moll 
humane  of  fouls,  the  nioli  companionate  ot  hearts,  would 
it  have  been  to  you  that  I  fliouid  have  chofen  to  confcfs 
iny  illume  and  my  delpair  ?  But  alas  !  what  remains  for 

mc 


tHE    PERUVIAN   PRINCESS.  ^^ 

hie  to  fear  r  wiiy  fliould  I  paufe  ?  Every  thing  to  me  is 
lort.  It  is  not  the  lofs  of  my  liberty,  of  my  rank,  of 
my  country,  that  I  now  deplore :  they  arc  not  the  in- 
quietudes of  an  innocent  tendeiT.efs  that  now  draw  tears 
from  m.e:  it  is  the  violation  of  good  faith  j  it  is  love 
dcipiled  that  rends  my  foul.  Aza  is  unfaithful ! — Aza 
unfaithful !  What  power  have  thofe  fatal  words  over 
my  foul ! — My  blood  is  frozen- a  torrent  of  tears— — 

I  learned  from  the  Spaniards  to  know  misfortunes  : 
but  the  laft  is  the  mcll  fenfibk  of  all  their  ftrokes.  It 
is  they  that  have  robbed  me  of  Aza's  heart}  it  is  their 
cruel  religion  that  renders  me  odious  in  his  eyes.  That 
religion  approves,  it  ordains  infidelity,  perfidy,  ingra- 
titude :  but  it  forbids  the  love  of  one's  near  relations. 
If  I  were  a  ftranger,  unknown,  Aza  might  love  me: 
but,  being  united  to  him  by  the  ties  of  blood,  he  muft 
abandon  me,  he  muft  t3ke  away  my  life  v/ithout  fhame, 
without  regi-et,  without  remorie.  Alas !  contradictory 
as  this  religion  is,  if  nothing  had  been  necefTaiy  but  to 
embr.ice  it,  in  order  to  recover  the  good  it  had  deprived 
me  of,  I  could  have  fubmitted  my  mind  to  its  illufions, 
without  corrupting  my  heart  by  its  principles.  In  the 
bitternefs  of  my  foul  I  demanded  to  be  inltrutSfed  in  it. 
My  tears  were  not  regarded.  I  cannot  be  admitted  into 
a  Ibciety  fo  pure,  without  abandoning  the  motive  which 

determines  me  to  defu-e  it without  renouncing  my 

love  ;  that  is  to  lay,  without  changing  my  exiilence. 

This  extreme  feverity,  Imuftconfels,  {truck  me  with 
awe  at  the  fame  time  that  my  heart  revolted  gg-unft  it : 
I  cannot  refufe  a  fort  of  veneration  to  laws  that  kill  me: 
but  is  it  in  my  pov/er  to  adopt  them?  Are*  if  I  fhould 
adopt  them,  what  advantage  would  refuk  from  it?  Aza 

loves  me  not :    Oh !   wretch  that  I  am  1 The  cruel 

Aza  has  preierved  nothing  of  the  csndcur  of  our  man- 
ners, except  that  refpeft  for  truth  of  which  he  makes  ib 
cruel  an  ulage.  Seduced  by  the  channs  of  ayoung Spa- 
niard, ready  to  be  united  with  her,  heconfentedtocome 
into  France  only  to  difengage  himielf  from  the  faith  he 
had  fworn  to  me,  and  to  leave  me  without  any  doubt  of 
I  z  lus 


lOO  THE    PERUVIAN    PRIN'CESS. 

his  real  fentiments ;  only  to  reitoie  to  me  a  liberty  which 
I  deteft,  or,  rather,  to  take  away  my  life.  Yes,  it  is 
in  vain  that  he  reltores  me  to  myfelr,  my  heart  is  with 
him,  and  will  be  lb  till  death.  My  life  belongs  to  him: 
let  him  take  it  from  me  : — but,  let  him  lov^e  me. — 

You  knew  my  misfortune :  why  then  did  you  only 
half  inform  me  of  it  ?  Why  did  you  give  me  room  for 
fufpicions  only,  which  made  me  unjuTr  to  you?  Alas  1 
why  do  I  impute  this  to  you  as  a  crime  ?  I  (lioukl  not 
have  believed  you :  blind  and  prepollefled,  I  fnouid  have 
fled  to  meet  my  fatal  deftiny,  have  conveyed  her  vi6lim 
to  my  rival,  and  have  now  been — O  ye  Gods,  lave  me 
from  this  horrible  image!  Deterville,  too  generous 
friend !  am  I  worthy  to  be  heard  !  am  I  worthy  of  your 
pity?  Forget  my  injuftice:  lament  a  wretch  whole  ef- 
teem  for  you  is  ftill  fuperior  to  her  weaknefs  for  an  in- 
grate. 

LETTER  XXXVL 

To  the  Che-u alter  Deterville,  at  Malta:  exciifesher- 

ftlffor  not  n.vnting :  farther  complaints  to  him. 

BY  your  complaining  of  me,  Sir,  I  know  you  are 
ignorant  of  the  ftate  from  which  I  am  juft  drawn 
by  the  cniel  cares  of  Celina.  How  could  I  write  to 
you  ?  I  thought  no  more.  If  any  icntiment  had  re- 
mained in  me,  doubtlefs  it  would  have  been  that  of 
confidence  in  you.  But  environed  by  the  ihadows  of 
death,  the  blood  frozen  in  my  veins,  I  \wxs  a  long  time 
ignorant  of  iTjy  own  exillence.  I  torgot  even  my  mil- 
fortunes.  Why,  O  ye  Gods,  in  caUing  me  back  to 
life,  have  you  alio  recalled  to  me  that  fatal  remem- 
brance ? 

He  is  gone!  I  lha!l  fee  him  no  more  !  He  flies  me! 
He  does  not  love  me !  He  has  told  me  fo  I  Every  thing 
with  regard  to  me  is  at  an  end.  He  takes  another  wife, 
and  honour  condemns  him  to  abandon  me.  It  is  well, 
cruel  Aza  !  Since  the  fantaltic  humour  of  Europe  has 
channs  for  thee,  why  doll  thou  not  alio  imitate  the  art 
that  accompanies  it  ? 

Happy  French-women,  you   too  are  betrayed  j  but 

you 


THE    PERUVIAN    PRIICCESS.  lot 

you  long  eii'oy  that  eiTor,  which  would  new  be  my 
only  good.  I  am  killed  by  the  mor:al  blow,  while  it 
is  only  preparing  for  you.  Fatal  fincciity  of  my  na- 
tion, dolt  thou  ceafe  then  to  be  a  viitue?  Courage, 
firmnefs,  aie  you  then  crimes  when  occafion  fo  re- 
quires ? 

Thou  haft  feen  me  at  thy  feet,  barbarous  Aza  !  thou 

haft  fccn  thoie  feet  bathed  ^vith  my  tears and  thou 

art  fled Horrible  moment?  why  does  not  this  re- 
membrance deprive  me  of  life  ? 

If  my  body  had  not  funk  under  the  weight  of  my 
giicf,  Aza  fiiould  not  have  triumphed  over  my  weaknefs 

he  fhould  not  have   gone  alcne.     I  would  have 

followed  thee,  ingiate,  I  would  have  feen  thee,  I  would 
have  died  at  leaft  before  thy  eyes. 

Deterville,  what  fatal  weaknefs  has  removed  you  to 
fuch  a  diftance  from  me?  You  would  have  fuccoured 
me:  what  the  diforder  of  my  defpair  could  not  have 
done,  your  rcafon,  capable  to  peri'uade,  would  have 
obtained:  perhaps  Aza  might  ftili  have  been  here.    But, 

Oh  Gods  ! alreaiiy  arrived  in  Spain  at  the  height  of 

his  blifs ! Ufelefs   regiets,    fruitlefs  defpair,  bcund- 

leis  gi'ief  overwhelm  me  i 

Seek  not,  Sir,  tofurmcunt  the  obftacles  which  retain 
you  at  Malta,  in  order  to  return  hither.  What  would 
you  do  here  ?  Fly  a  v/retch  who  is  no  longer  fenuble  ai 
your  kindnefs,  who  is  a  torment  to  herfclf,  and  wiliies 
only  to  die. 

LETTER  XXXVII. 
%  the  cbe-jalicr  De t  l R\-i l l e  :  yZ^  gr(n':s  fome^j^hat  pa- 
cified. 
TAKE  courage  again,  too  generous  friend  :  I  would 
not  write  to  ycu  till  m.y  days  were  ill  f?.fet\'.  and 
till,  lefs  agitated  myfelf,  I  could  calm  your  inquietudes. 
I  live :  fate  will  have  it  fo,  and  I  fubmit  to  the  laws  of 
deltmy.  The  cares  of  your  amiable  fiftcr  reftored  my 
heahh,  aid  feme  returns  of  reaibn  have  fupported  it. 
The  certainty  that  m.y  mlsfbitune  is  without  remedy, 
has  done  the  reft.  I  know  that  Aza  is  anived  in  Spain, 
I    3  and 


lOl  THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS, 

and  that  his  crime  is  complete  :  my  2;riet  is  not  extinct, 
but  the  caui'e  of  it  is  no  longer  worthy  or'  my  regret.  It" 
any  regret  now  remains  in  my  heart,  it  is  due  only  for 
the  pahis  I  have  cauied  you — tor  my  enor — for  the  wan- 
derings of  my  reaibn. 

Alas !  in  proportion  as  this  reafon  enlightens  me,  I 
diicover  its  impotence.  What  power  has  it  in  a  defolate 
foul  ?  The  excefs  of  grief  throws  us  back  to  the  weak- 
neis  of  childhood.  As  in  that  firll  age,  fo  in  this,  pre- 
fent  objects  only  have  power  over  iss  j  the  fight  feems  to 
be  the  only  fenle  that  has  an  intimate  communication  witli 
the  foul :  of  this  I  have  had  woeful  experience. 

As  I  recovered  from  the  long  and  fenfelefs  letharg)'^, 
into  which  I  was  plunged  by  the  departure  of  Aza,  the 
firft  defire  that  nature  infpired  me  with,  was  to  retire 
into  that  folitude  which  I  owe  to  your  providential good- 
nefs.  It  was  not  without  difficulty  that  I  obtained 
leave  of  Cclina  to  be  conduced  thither.  There  I  found 
helps  agalnlldefpair,  which  neither  the  world,  nor  friend- 
fhip  itlelf,  could  ever  afford  me.  In  your  filler's  houle, 
even  her  conveifation  could  never  prevail  over  the  obie6\s 
vvhicli  inceffantly  renewed  in  my  mind  tlie  perfidy  of  Aza. 

The  door  by  which  Celina  brought  him  into  my  cham- 
ber, on  the  day  of  your  departure  and  his  anlval ;  the  feat 
on  which  he  iat  j  the  place  in  which  he  denounced  my 
.mlfcryj  and  reftorcd  me  my  letters  ;  even  the  j'emem- 
brance  ot  his  fiiadow  on  the  wainfcot,  where  I  had  ob- 
fcrvcd  the  proportions  of  it,  all  gave  every  day  frefh 
wounds  to  my  heart. 

Htie  I  fee  nothing  but  what  recals  the  agreeable  ideas 
I  received  at  the  firft  fight  of  the  place  :  I  find  nothing 
but  the  image  of  your  friend/lilp,  and  that  of  your  amia- 
ble fifter.  If  the  remembrar.ee  of  Aza  preients  itfelf  to 
my  mind,  it  is  under  the  fameafpcft  which  I  then  beheld 
him.  I  think  my Icif  waiting  for  his  arrival.  I  give  way 
to  this  illufion  as  long  as  it  is  agreeable  to  me :  if  it  quits 
me,  I  have  recourle  to  books,  and  read  greedily  at  tiie 
fiiil.  Infenfibly  new  ideas  veil  over  the  horrid  truth  that 
cnvii-or.s  ine,  ?,vx\  a:  the  end,  give  fomc  rcLxation  to  my 

fo."iOW. 


THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS.  103 

foiTOw.  Shall  I  coniels,  that  the  Tweets  of  iiberiyroine- 
tiines  prefent  themlclves  to  my  imagination,  and  that  I 
iiiten  to  them?  Aniuled  by  agreeable  objecls,  their  pro- 
priety h?.s  charms  which  force  rne  to  relilh  them.  I  con- 
fide in  my  own  tafte,  and  rely  but  little  on  my  reafon.  I 
give  way  to  my  weaknefles,  and  combat  thole  of  my  heait 
only  by  indulging  to  thole  of  my  mind.  The  maladies 
of  the  foul  will  not  bear  violent  iemedies. 

Perhaps  the  faltidious  decency  of  your  nation  does  net 
permit  to  one  of  my  age  that  ind'ependency  and  Ibiitude  in 
which  I  live  :  whenever  Celina  comes  to  fee  me,  fiit  at 
lead  endeavours  to  perfuade  me  fo  j  but  fhe  has  not  yet 
given  me  fufficient  reafons  to  convince  me  that  I  a:n 
to  blame.  TiTie  decency  is  in  my  heart.  It  is  not  to 
the  image  of  virtue  that  I  pay  homage,  but  to  virtue  it- 
felf.  Yet  I  will  always  take  her  for  the  judge  and  guide 
of  my  aelions.  To  her  will  I  confecraiie  my  life,  an;i  to 
friendfliip  my  heart.  Alas  !  when  will  it  have  the  un- 
divided and  uninterrupted  pofTeffion  and  fway? 
LETTER  XXXVIII. 

To  the  chevalier  Deterville,  at  Paris:  declares 
her  rtfobition  to  it-ue  frecy  and  comforts  and  exk':,ns  De- 
ier'vtUe, 

IT  was  almoft  at  the  lame  time,  Sir,  that  I  read  the 
news  ot  your  departure  h'om  Malta,  and  that  of  your 
arrival  at  Paris.  Whatever  the  pieafure  will  be  that  I 
fhall  taife  at  feeing  you  again,  it  cannot  overcome  my 
concern,  occafioned  by  the  billet  you  vvioteto  me  at  your 
an'ival.  How,  Deterville,  after  having  taken  upon  you 
to  dilVemble  your  fentiments  in  all  your  letters,  after 
having  given  me  loom  to  hope  that  I  fhould  no  longer 
have  a  paffion  that  afflivTts  mc  to  combat,  do  you  deiiver 
yourfelt  up  more  than  ever  to  its  violence  ?  To  what 
puipofe  do  you  affe6lade!crence  tov^ards  mc,  which  you 
contradict  at  the  fame  indant  ?  You  alk  leave  to  iee  me, 
you  ailure  nx  of  a  blind  fubmiulon  toniy  v/illj  and  yet 
you  endt^a^ibur  to  convince  me  of  fentiments  the  moit  op- 
pofite  to -iid'c|i  afubmiiTion.  This  gives  me  difpkafure, 
and,  iadureVou,  I  fr.ali  never  approve  of  fuchccndufc. 

But 


T04  THE    PERUVIAN*    PRINCESS. 

Butfirxe  afalfehope  Icduces  yov,  fince  you  give  a  wrong 
turn  to  my  confidence,  and  the  liate  of  my  foul,  it  is 
pioper  I  fhould  tell  you  what  aie  my  refoiutioQs,  which 
are  not  to  be  fli?.ken,  like  yours. 

You  flatter  yourfelt  in  vain  that  you  fliall  caufe  my 
heart  to  put  on  new  chains.  The  treachery  of  another 
dees  not  dilengcge  me  ficrn  my  oaths.  Would  to  hea- 
ven it  could  make  me  forget  the  ingrate,  but,  if  I  could 
fcigethin-,  yet, true  to  myfelf,  I  would  not  be  perjured. 
The  cruel  Aza  abandons  that  whicii  cnce  was  dear  to 
h  m:  his  rights  over  me  ai'e  not  thelefs  facred:  I  mtj-be 
healed  of  my  pafiion,  but  never  ca.n  have  any  except  for 
him.  All  the  fentiments  that  friendfiiip  infpiies  are 
yours,  and  I  fliall  be  faithful  to  them.  You  fliall  enjoy 
my  confidence  and  fincerity  in  the  fame  degree,  and  both 
fliail  be  without  bounds.  All  fhe  lively  and  delicate  fen- 
timents, which  love  has  difcovered  in  my  heart,  fliall 
turn  to  t>,e  advantage  of  friendfliip.  I  will  let  you  fee, 
with  equal  cpennei's  of  foul,  my  regret  that  I  was  not 
born  in  France,  and  my  invincible  inclination  towards 
Aza;  how  grateful  it  Would  have  been  to  m.e  that  I  had 
owed  to  you  the  advantage  of  thinking,  and  my  eternal 
acknowledgment  to  hirn  v^ho  procured  me  that  bltflTrng. 
We  will  read  in  each  others  fouls  :  confidence,  as  v.ell 
rs  love,  can  give  rapidity  to  time  :  there  are  a  thoufand 
ways  to  make  hiendfiiip  inftn.i61ing,  and  banifli  from  it 
all  fatiety.  You  jliali  teach  m.e  fome  knowledge  of  your 
arts  and  J'ciences,  and,  in  lb  doing,  tafle  the  pleafure  of 
fupenority  :  I  wHl  make  reprifai  on  you,  by  dii'covering 
virtues  in  yovr  heart  which  you  did  not  know  to  be  theie. 
You  fliall  adorn  my  mirid  with  what  may  render  it  amu- 
firg,  and  enjoy  the  fruit  of  vour  own  work  :  I  will  en- 
cieavom-  to  make  tiie  native  charms  of  fimple  friendfliip 
agreeable  to  you,  and  fliall  find  myfelf  hsppy  in  fuccecd- 

ing- 

Celina,  by  dividmg  her  love  betwixt  us,  fliall  th.rcw 
tiiat  gaiety  into  our  converfations  which  they  might  othcr- 
v.-ife  w:;nt.     V7hat  more  fliall  wc  have  to  dciire  ? 

Your  feras  that  foiitude  may  be  hurtful  to  my  health 

arc 


THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS.  105 

are  groundlefs.  Believe  me,  Dcterv'ille,  iblitude  is  ne- 
ver dangerous  but  thi-ough  idlcneis.  But  I,  continually 
employed,  can  itrike  out  to  mylclf  new  plcallires  from 
every  thing  that  inaclion  would  elie  render  inllpid. 

Without  fcaiching  deep  into  the  fecrets  of  nature,  is 
not  the  limple  examination  of  its  wonders  iufEcicnt  to 
vary  and  renew  incefiantly  occupations  that  are  always 
agr-eeable  ?  Does  life  itielf  iuffice  to  acquire  a  llfght, 
but  interefting  knowledge  of  the  univene,  of  what  lur- 
rounds  me,  and  of  my  ownexiltence  ? 

The  pleafureof  being  ;  that  forgotten,  unkno\^Ti  plea- 
fure  to  lb  many  mortals  j  this  thought  fo  fwect,  this  hap- 
pinefs  fo  pure,  lam — I li^ve — I exijl,  is  alune  enough 
to  convey  blifs,  if  we  remember  it,  it  we  enjoy  it,  if  we 
know  the  value  of  it. 

Come,  Dcterville,  come,  and  learn  of  me  to  hulbaml 
the  rcfources  of  our  fouls,  and  trie  benefits  of  nature.  Re- 
nounce thofe  tumultuous  fentimerts,  the  imperceptible 
deftroyers  of  our  being.  Come,  and  learn  to  know  in- 
nocent and  durable  pleafures :  come,  and  enjoy  them 
with  me.  You  (hall  find  in  my  heart,  in  my  friendflrip, 
in  my  fentiments,  all  that  is  wanting  to  indemnify  you 
for  the  lofs  of  love. 

LETTER  XXXIX. 
Deter-oille  to  Zilia  in  anpvjer  to  the  tkirty-eigkt  letter. 

OH  Zilia!  on  what  conditions  ami  perm.tttd  to  lee 
you  again  ?  Have  you  thought  well  on  that  which 
you  require  of  me  ?  I  was  able  it  is  true,  to  keep  filence 
in  your  pretence  j  but  that  hluation  was  at  the  fame  time 
the  joy  and  I  he  misfortune  of  my  life.  I  could  take 
pains  for  Aza's  return ;  I  paid  a  deference  to  your  paf- 
lion  for  him,  cruel  as  it  was  to  me.  Even  when  I  fuf- 
pected  his  change,  without  giving  myfelf  up  to  the  flat- 
tering hopes  which  I  might  from  thence  have  conceived, 
I  wrought  fo  far  upon  my  uiind  as  to  be  rifi]i6fed,  be- 
caufe  it  would  make  you  unliappy.  But  Aza  came,  and 
had  a  frefli  view  of  your  charms.  He  found  you  faith- 
ful, tender,  wholly  occupied  with  his  idea,  and  your 
defire  to  crown  his  flame,     Hov/  triumphant  was  it  for 

him. 


10*5  THE    PERUVIAN    PRiNCESs, 

hnn  to  fee  thofe  unfortunate  knots,  the  precious  nioniN 
ments  of  your  tendernefs !  What  other  heart.but  his 
would  not  have  relumed  his  ancient  chains?  Or  rather, 
what  other  heart  but  his  liad  been  cap:ible  ever  to  break, 
them  ? 

Not  being  able  to  forefee  his  ingratitude,  nothing  re- 
mained for  mc  but  to  die.  I  formed  a  defign  of  leaving 
yG\i  forever,  and  flying  from  my  country  and  my  family  j 
i  could  not,  however,  refufe  myfelf  the  doleful  conlbla- 
tion  of  imparting  to  you  this  refolution.  Celina,  fenfi- 
bly  touched  with  m.y  unhappy  lei,  took  upon  her  to  de- 
liver to  you  my  letter.  The  time  flie  chofe  for  this, 
Zelia,  as  yourfelf  have  wrote  me  word,  was  the  inlfant 
in  which  the  faithlefs  Aza  appeared  in  your  light.  Doubt- 
lefs  the  tender  ccm.palTion  of  Celina  for  an  unfortunate 
brother,  made  her  talk  a  fecret  pleafure  in  embittering 
the  moments  which  v/ere  to  have  been  fo  very  fweet :  llie 
was  not  deceived ;  you  werefeniible  to  my  defpair,  and 
even  deigned  to  fignify  as  much  to  me  by  foothing  ex- 
prelTions,  proper  to  fatisfy  a  heart  which  had  no  higher 
ambition  than  to  engage  your  pity. 

I  was  fccn  Informed  of  Aza's  crime,  and  then,  Icon- 
fefs  it,  my  heart  firfl  gave  way  to  hope,  the  iiluficn  pre- 
vailed on  me  ib  far,  that  I  even  flattered  myfelf  with  the 
glory  of  giving  you  comfort.  That  was  the  firfi:  mo- 
ment of  my  life  wherein  I  prefaged  to  myfelf  a  happy  fu- 
turity. To  thefe  fentiments,  at  once  fo  foft  and  ib  new 
tome,  fucceeded  the  mcft  afflicting  circumliance.  Your 
lifev^as  in  danger,  and  my  foul  was  tern  in  pieces  by  the 
fear  of  lofing  you.  I  laboured  ardently  to  furmount  the 
obftacles  which  oppofed  my  return.  At  lail  I  overcame 
them  ;  and  flev^  towards  you.  My  relpecl  impofed  on 
me  the  necefiity  of  waitinr  'or  your  orders  to  appear  m 
your  prefence.  I  petitior;-'  for  leave  in  fuch  expicifions 
as  arena'urai  to  a  heart  in  the  condition  of  m.inc.  But, 
is  it  pofTible  toexpref*  what  I  felt  upon  reading  your  an- 
Jwer?  No,  it  is  not  poflible.  How  many  difRrent  no- 
tions agitated  my  foul!  how  many  Icnleleis  projects  ! 
That  of  removing  from  you,  Zilia,  I  had  the  courage  to 

form  j 


THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS.  IO7 

form ;  but,  toe  feeble  to  pr.-  it  in  execution,  I  gave  way 
to  niydeftiny  by  reir.:.iniiig  near  you.  My  relpeit,  my 
admiration,  and  my  iervlces,  ihail  be  all  that  I  will  per- 
mit the  ardour  of  my  love  to  expicfa.  Shall  I  be  forbid- 
den, divine  Zllia,  to  hope  in  filcnce,  that  you  will  one 
day  be  touched  with  a  paiTion,  which  fhall  always  be  as 
great  inrelbe6las  in  vivacity  ? 

LETTER  XL. 
ZiLLiA  to  Celina;  co?icerning  Aza  mid Detct'-jilk. 

My  dear  Celina,  hov/  unhappy  am  I  ?  You  leave  me, 
alas  !  to  myltrU',  and  I  have  not  a  more  cruel  ene- 
my. Incefuntly  haunted  by  tlie  molt  grievous  refle61ions, 
upon  misfortunes  that  I  could  not  forelee,  and  dcflitute 
of  experience,  I  can  by  no  means  enjoy  the  re  pole  which 
this  charming  fciitude  feems  to  offer  me.  It  feivesoniy 
to  bring  back  the  remembrance  of  the  cruel  Aza,  with  all 
his  charms.  In  vain  I  call  reafcn  to  my  fuccour  j  in  vain 
think  of  my  iniiilted  love,  rewarded  with  ingratitude. 
I  fee  plainly  that  it  is  from  tim.e  only  I  muil  expect  the 
calm  I  defire.  Why  was  it  not  the  pleafure  of  love  that 
fuch  tendei  and  delicate  ientiments  fhould  be  referved  for 
Detervilie,  who  would  have  better  known  theii-  value  ? 
But  could  I  forefee  events,  of  which  I  had  not  the  leaft 
idea  ?  Aza  the  firft  time  prefented  himfeif  to  my  eyes 
v/ith  all  poflible  advantages :  birth,  merit,  a  charming- 
figure,  and  the  warmeft  love,  authorized  by  duty :  what 
more  was  v/anting  to  engage  a  young  heart,  naturally 
fenfible  and  tender  ?  This  heart  was  accordingly  given 
up  without  relen/e ;  I  breathed  only  for  him  ;  my  beauty 
v/as  pleafing,  and  I  dehrcdnew  charms,  only  that  I  might 
hi  more  vv'urthy  of  him,  and,  if  poiTible  rentier  him  mori 
amorous.  Our  felicity  was  perfc6t,  till  the  fatal  revolu- 
tion which  feparated  us  one  from  th°  other. 

Long  abiencc,  dependence  on  ot'^ers,  and  the  lofs  of 
his  riches,  have  boubtlei's  detenriined  him  to  forget  me, 
in  order  to  enjoy  the  leal  advantages  that  are  offered  him 
and  which  lie  cannot  now  hope  to  obtain  by  an  \mion 
with  me.     JBelides,  how  Ihould  he  contiuu*  faithful  to 

me 


108  THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS. 

me,  when  lie  has  not  been  {o  to  his  religion  ?  One  error 
iiatvuTilly  draws  on  another. 

Bui  I  perceive,  with  regret,  that  I  entertain  you  only 
on  the  Iubjef\  of  this  ungratetul  man.  How  weak  am 
1,  my  dear  Celina!  What  need  have  I  of  your  council 
to  fortify  my  reafon  agajnlf  an  involuntary  love  !— It 
fliall  be  fo. — I  will  make  new  efforts  to  furmount  it. 

Is  Deterville  at  Paris  ?  Has  he  accepted  the  tender 
friendfhip  which  I  offered  him  ?  You  two  are  all  that 
remains  dear  to  me.  Come,  and  iweeten  my  Iblitude  ! 
Walking,  reading,  and  refleclion  fhall  divide  our  time  : 
and  I  begin  to  think  I  ought  to  ftudy  your  religion. 
Aza,  whofe  knowledge  is  fubiime,  who,  as  a  fon  of  the 
celeftial  luminary,  ought  to  have  more  lively  and  pene- 
trating wit  than  I,  has  acknowledged  dcteds  in  curs, 
which  I  cannot  fee.  I  may  deceive  myfelf  in  my  opini- 
on of  its  perfe6^ion.  When  I  left  Peru,  I  was  perfuaded 
that  was  the  only  country  favoured  by  the  fun  j  that  our 
horizon  alone  was  enlightened  by  it,  and  that  all  other 
people  were  involved  in  darknefs.  I  foon  difcovered  my 
error  in  this  refpe6f .  It  feems  probable  therefore,  that 
the  inlfruftions  which  may  be  given  me  by  Deterville, 
whofe  chara6fer  is  formed  of  reclitude,  candour,  Uiodera- 
'tion  aiid  generofity,  may  make  feme  farther  impreilion 
upon  me. 

I  will  add  this  obligation  to  all  thofe  which  I  already 
have  to  himj  on  this  condition  only,  that  he  fhall  em- 
ploy nothing  hut  reafon  and  Iblid  proofs  to  perliiade  me, 
I  am  willing  to  be  inftrufted,  but  not  conftraiiied.  This 
fcrious  ftudy  fhall  be  intermixed  with  innocent  amufe- 
mcJit?,  v.hich  you,  Celina,  fhall  partake  with  us.  But 
be  fiire  to  make  Deterville  fcnfible,  that  he  will  crown 
my  gratitude,  if  he  baniflies  love  entirely  from  our  con- 
vcdation.  Such  an  union  will  be  charming,  if  I  hear 
not  a  word  of  this  enemy  of  my  repole.  Eiteem  and  con- 
fidence fhall  reign  betwixt  us,  and  what  would  he  de- 
fire  more? 

Ccir.e  both  of  Vou,  and  breathe  this  amiable  liberty, 
whicli  is  tailed  in  the  country  with  perfons  that  ai'e  dear 

to 


THE    PERUVIAN   PRINCESS.  109"^ 

*o  US.     You  will  I'uppoit  my  weaknels  with  gocKinefs  : 
vou  will  fortit'y  my  realbn,  and  time  ftiall  do  the  relt. 
LETTER  XLI. 

Celina  /c  Zilia  :  in  anftver  to  the  preceding  j  expojlu- 
late s  for  ker  brother. 

I  SHOULD  not  have  left  you  to  yourfdf,'  my  dear 
Zilia,  it  I  had  not  imagined  you  more  confiiTned  with 
regard  to  a  mlstortune  without  remedy ;  I  ftiould  even 
have  thought  it  an  inllilt  to  you,  to  believe  that  the  in- 
conllant  Aza  ftill  occupies  your  heart  alone.  In  truth 
he  does  not  deierve  it.  Could  he  be  acquainted  v/ith 
your  worth,  and  yet  IhakeofFhls  chains? 

It  is  plain,  that  love  llill  pleads  warmly  for  him  in 
rour  heart :  But  does  that  jultity  him  ?  You  are  ingeni- 
ous in  I'eaiching  out  whatever  may  make  him  appear  leU 
culpable  \  that  is  an  etfeil  of  the  goodnefs  of  your 
heart  'and  the  tendernefs  you  ftill  bear  to  that  un- 
grateful man.  But,  my  dear  Zilia,  do  not  deceive 
youiielf:  He  never,  in  his  love  to  you,  felt  any  of 
tii^i'e  little  tribiilartions,  which  warm  and  heighten  that 
paHion;  jealouiy,  caprice,  coldnefs,  never  entered  into 
your  engagements.  Sui'e  of  your  heart,  he  found  no- 
thing but  tendeniefs,  and  equality  of  humour  ;  a  pallion, 
per!Taps  too  vvaim  on  your  fide,  and  in  which  there  was 
it  leait  no  trial.  Hence  aroi'e  your  misfortune  \  he  ceafed 
to  love  you,  becaufe  he  had  been  too  happy.  It  is  not 
eafy  to  decide,  my  dear  Zilia,  which  it  was  that  pre- 
vailed with  him  j  whether  religion,  or  the  beauty  of  the 
fair  Spaniard.  If  it  was  the  firtt  motive  only,  he  is  ex- 
eulable  ;  but  the  two  objects  united  together,  make  me 
very  much  fufpe^l:  him.  You  are  to  blame,  my  dear 
friend,  to  think  lb  incdfantly  on  this  perfidious  man  ? 
It  is  entertaining  an  idea  fatal  to  your  repofe.  Let  us 
net  talk  any  more,  I  befeech  you,  of  one  fo  faithlefs  \  let 
us  forger,  it  it  be  poflible,  his  very  name.  I  will  come 
and  lee  you  \  I  will  do  my  utmoft  to  dire6t  you.  How 
palTionately  do  I  wiih  niyl'elf  able  to  contribute  to  the 
return  of  your  trauquilUty,  and  the  alfurancc  of  your 
felicity  I  K  I  re« 


TIO  THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS. 

I  reproach  inyfelf  much  tcr  hriving  left  you  alone, 
abandoned  to  your  refif6tions  j  but  I  thought  your  heart 
cured.  I  doubt  net  but  agreeable  company  will  Iweetcn 
your  Iblitudc,  and  I  will  bring  with  me  two  of  my 
friends,  with  whom  I  am  fure  you  will  be  fatisned. 

My  brother  is  returned,  and  I  have  fhewn  him  your 
letter.  He  is  grieved  to  the  heart  to  lee  you  ftill  fo  full 
of  the  perjured  Aza.  You  owe  to  his  delicacy,  and  that 
conduit,  of  which  he  alone  is  cap^ible,  the  violence  he 
puts  on  himielf  in  keeping  at  a  diftance  from  you.  But 
entirely  taken  up  with  a  paiTion  equally  tender  and  re- 
fpeflful,  he  does  not  find  himfelf  capable  to  fupprefs  all 
the  te-ftimonies  of  it.  He  is  afraid  of  offending  you,  be- 
caufe  he  is  afraid  that,  in  Iplte  of  hirafelf,  lome  expref- 
fions  may  elcape  him  in  your  prefence,  which  you  have 
forbid  with  the  utmcil  rigour.  He  laments  without 
ceafing,  that  fentiments  fo  confcant,  fo  tender,  fo  delicate, 
to  which  he  thinks  he  has  a  juft  title,  fhould  be  the  re- 
comipence  of  one  that  is  peiiured. 

You  offer  him  your  ixicridlhip,  and  prefs  him  to  ccme 
and  fee  you  :  Is  not  this  a  real  cruelty  ?  What !  Ihall  he 
every  moment  behold  an  enchanting  object,  for  whom 
alone  he  fighs,  v.-ho,  by  her  beauty,  her  fwcetnefs,  and  a 
thoufand  other  chaims,  m.ult  enflave  him  more  and  more 
daily  j  and  yet  will  you  have  the  feverity  to  forbid  him 
to  Ijjeak  of  that  paffion,  which  interelts  him  more  than 
any  th:ng  befides? 

He  accepts, however,  with  grateful  acknowledgements, 
the  tender  friendfliip  which  you  offer  him,  Imce  more  he 
cannot  obtain.  He  is  extremely  fenfible,  that  this  friend- 
ihip  would  have  a  thoufand  charms  for  a  lefs  amorous 
licart ;  but  for  himfelf,  his  paflion  is  too  ilrong  to  be  con- 
fined to  that  hm})le  fcnriment.  Being  unable  to  rtcal 
Iiis  own  rcafon,  I  lee  how  difficult  it  will  be  for  him  to 
fatisfy  yours.  Is  it  not,  my  dearZiha,  almoft  the  want 
cfreaibn,  ftill  obilinately  to  love  a  peribn,  who  neither 
can,  nor  ought  to  make  a  fuitable  return  for  the  fame  ? 

If  you  defire  to  be  enlightened  with  regard  to  your  re- 
ligion, be  not  afraid  tliat  Dctervilie  will  initiiiil  you  with 

tyrojiny  : 


THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS.  Ill 

i  anny :  He  will  give  you  fach  helps  and  luch  counfels,  as 
Tuail  be  in  your  chcice  either  to  iollow  or  rejeft.  You 
know  his  integ;i::y  and  moderation  :  I  am  lure  he  will 
ail  under  rheir  circftion,  though  at  the  fame  time  it  will 
give  nim  the  purelt  joy  if  he  can  lucceed.  But,  my  dear 
ZiKa,  in  order  to  this  great  workj  it  is  neceffaiy  to  be 
divciled  of  all  prejudice. 

We  proinife  ourielves  much  enjoyment  of  your  con- 
Veria'don,  and  will  endeavour  to  make  ours  as  agreeable 
as  wc  are  capable.  This  will  be  eafy  for  us  to  do,  as 
our  hearts  are  free  from  love,  and  filled  only  with  tran- 
quil friendiliip.  Deterville  himfelf,  whom  we  have  at 
lalt  engaged  to  be  of  the  party,  has  promifed  me  fincere- 
ly,  that  he  will  not  appear  amorous,  but  obferve  all  the 
rules  of  diicreticn  youprefcribe  to  him  ;  but  he  befeeches 
you,  in  retum,  never  to  fpeak  to  him  of  the  faithlefsand 
happy  Aza.  He  has  a  right,  methinks,  to  require  this 
complaij'ance  or  you.  I  know  not  whether  it  v/iil  be 
very  difficult  to  you  ;  bu.:  it  is  r.eceflar)-  there  fhould  be 
an  unilbn  betwixt  your  two  hearts,  in  order  to  form  a 
perfed  concert  am.ongft  us. 

LETTER  XLII. 
Deterville  to  Celisa  :  ftates  kis  o-jjn  cafe. 

AT  my  return  from  Malta  to  Pai-is,  my  dear  fifter, 
I  received  with  a  tranfport  of  joy,  mixed  with 
fear,  the  fair  Zi'.ia's  letter,  which  was  delivered  to  me 
by  your  order.  In  fact,  this  letter  confirms,  at  the  very 
beginning  of  it,  her  defign  to  forget  Aza :  but,  O  pain- 
ful and  cruel  t.dlngs  !  it  proclaims  to  me  afreili  her  re- 
folution  never  to  replace  him  by  another.  Sne  even  for- 
bids me  to  have  the  leaft  idea  of  that  nature.  What  a 
mortal  blov/,  my  dear  Cclma,  v.'as  this !  Have  you  a 
thorough  fenfe  of  it  ?  Whilll  Zilia  could  depend  on  the 
fidelity  of  one  fo  beloved,  I  hau  no  room  either  to  hope 
or  to  complain :  1  could  not  be  ignorant,  being  myielf 
a  melancliOiy  proof  of  it,  that  a  heart  truly  fmitten  can- 
not entertain  more  than  one  love.  That  of  Zilia  belong- 
ed of  right  to  the  faitnful  Aza :  but  when  this  fame 
Axa  became  faithlefs  and  perjured,  had  ijot  my  iicpes  a 
K  a  right 


512  THE    PERUVIAN    PRIKCESS. 

right  to  revive !  Yet  in  that  very  inllant  how  cruelly 
were  they  deceived  !  Dear  (ifter,  how  hard  is  my  fate  ! 
What  is  thecompoHticn  of  thefe  Peruvian  fouls  ?  How! 
Is  not  Ziiia  fufceptihle  of  that  lively  pl-cafure,  which  all 
wcnien,  may  1  not  lay,  which  all  heaits  enjoy  in  ven- 
geance ?  Why  does  (lie  not  efface  from  her  heart  the 
very  image  of  this  ingrate,  if  it  were  for  no  other  rcafon 
than  to  ft^ew  her  horror  of  ingratitude !  Happy,  if  a- 
midft  thediverfity  of  her  fentimtnts,  a  fpnrk  of  lov^for 
me  could  enter.  I  a^n  fenfihle  that  my  delicacy  would 
fufftr  by  thofe  means;  but  no  matter,  if  fhe  does  but 
love  me.  I  fhall  owe  my  happinefs  to  fpite :  but  per- 
haps I  may  owe  it  to  gratitude  likewife.  Shall  I  not  be 
a  thoufand  times  happy  ?  I  cannot  help  for  a  moment 
enjoying  the  idea. 

It  is  true,  that  this  beauty,  ^^hcm  I  adore,  offers  me 
the  moft  conf^:int  frrendfhip,  and  exprelTes  it  even  with 
pafTicn  :  fhe  particularifes  all  the  channs  of  it  with  Co 
much  grace  and  delicacy,  that  if  any  other  than  Zilia 
had  offered  me  fuch  a  friendfhip,  I  fhould  have  been  en- 
chanted with  it.  But  can  the  mofl  tender  friend/hip  on 
her  part  repay  the  moll  pafTiona^e  love  on  mine  ?  Feeble 
image  of  a  pafTicn,  how  will  it  anfwer  to  the  vivacity 
«f  that  which  I  feel!  How  great  will  be  my  misfortune, 
if,  while  Zilia  renders  for  the  moft  tender  love  the  fim- 
ple  fentlment  of  tranquil  friendfhip,  her  heart,  forget- 
ting at  lail  the  faithlefs  Aza,  fliould  melt  in  favoui-  of 
fcme  other  than  me!  I  rtuidder  with  dread  and  horror 
at  the  thought.  Alas!  fuch  a  new  engagement  would 
tci-ment  me  for  ever.  To  be  always  near  the  obie6f ,  in 
which  alone  my  felicity  confifts,  and  always  far  from 
felicity  itfelf,  is  a  fituation,  that  inftead  of  curing  the 
tvils  I  fuffer,  would  I'crve  only  to  augment  them. 

Pity  »ne,  my  dear  Celina,  deplore  fmcerely  thy  bro- 
ther's condition,  if  thou  haft  any  idea  of  what  Io\e  is 
without  hope.  LETTER 


THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS.  II3 

LETTER  XL  I II. 
Cllina^o  Deter viLLE:  grj£!  him  ^dz'ice,  atid  ex- 
patiates on  the  cafe  o/Zilia. 
I  DO  indeed  commiierate  a  diftrafted  heart,  which 
finds  no  leUef  either  in  itfelf  or  ehewherc.  Such  is 
your  fituation,  my  d.ar  D-tcrville ;  you  love  Zllia,  the 
molt  amiable,  the  m.oll  virtuous  virgin  that  ever  was, 
and  you  love  her  almoft  without  meailire.  The  purity 
of  her  ibul,  the  natural  delicacy  of  her  converfation,  her 
beauty  for  ever  new  to  your  eyes,  her  candour,  even  her 
very  tendernefs  for  Aza,  contrary  as  it  is  to  your  hopes, 
all  contribute  to  nourilh  in  you  a  palliun,  which  talle 
and  elteem  augment  daily  5  a  pallion  fo  much  the  more 
lively,  as  it  is  the  firil  you  have  ever  experienced.  I 
would  endeavour  to  cure  you  of  it,  if  it  were  ot  fuch  a 
nature  as  you  could  ever  repent  it  j  but  I  am  not  igno- 
rant, that  being  mafter  of  this  fair  Indian,  by  the  lav/s 
of  war,  you  have  refptcled  her  beauty,  her  fentiments, 
and  her  misfortunes :  I  know  it  was  not  your  fault, 
that  the  only  good,  w^hich  could  render  her  happy,  was 
not  leftored  to  her,  and  that  even  at  the  expence  of  your 
wealth.  I  admired  you  as  a  prodigy,  when  I  faw  you 
call  out  of  the  heart  of  Spain  the  happy  Azs,  in  order 
to  return  to  him,  with  liis  oti'.er  treafares,  the  only  jewel 
which  you  could  not  be  happy  without.  This  was  the 
very  height  cf  generofity. 

In  the  mean  time,  by  an  unexampled  turn  of  fortune, 
\'vhen  the  infidelity  of  Aza  rendered  yourbenciitsuleleis, 
and  you  had  more  right  than  ever  to  hope,  the  unrore- 
fecn  conftancv  ot  Zaia  for  an  ungrateful  man,  adds  the 
lall  and  fevereft  Itroke  to  your  misfortunes. 

But,  my  dear  brother,  while  I  indulge  your  gi'ief, 
and  lament  thefataiity  of  your  ftars,  liriTcr  me  to  intorm 
you,  that  5^ou  make  your  cafe  wone  than  it  really  is.^ 
The  anxiety  of  your  heart,  doubtlefs,  prevents  your  fee- 
ing the  icall  glimpfe  of  hope  :  but  perhaps  the  inuiife- 
rence,  in  whicn  you  formerly  lived,  keeps  you  ignorant- 
of  the  refources  which  r.re  ftil.  left  you  by  rortune.  As 
a  woman,  I  fliouid  be  tempcea  itiil  to  l^ave  you  partly  ia 
K  3  ignorance  I 


1T4-  THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS, 

ignoance  j  but  as  a  fifter,  1  cannot  take  fuch  an  imkind 
relblution.  Hear  me  thtn,  my  dear  Deterville.  Aza 
was  riatmally  the  only  objeft  that  Zilla  could  be  attached 
to.  A  prince,  tender,  voung  ami  charming,  and  Zilia 
in  all  the  torce  and  Iweetnefs  ot  her  firil  hres,  united  by 
taltc  and  by  duty,  and  by  the  virtue  which  enobled  both. 
A  hideous  mifhap,  a  ciiiel  revolution  I'epaiatcs  them, 
and  enlivens  the  image  ot  that  ttlicitv  of  which  they  lee 
themtelves  tatallv  deprived.  Rcpreient  to  yourlelf  how 
much  torce  even  deipair  mull  add  to  a  paffion  before  Iq 
warm  and  lb  legitimate.  It  was  a  heart  new  in  love, 
full  ot'fire,  given  up  for  the  firll  time,  and  which  did  not 
know  a  more  lenfible  pleaiure,  than  that  of  adhering  to 
the  object  it  had  cholcu  :  in  Hiort,  it  was  a  heart,  amo- 
rous to  excels,  inflamed  by  difficulty,  and  which,  at  the 
very  brink,  of  felicity,  fawitfclf  in  that  inftant  Ihatched 
from  the  expected  enjoyment.  iVIy  dear  brother,  put 
yourlelf  for  a  moment  in  the  place  of  Zilia :  is  it  poffihlc 
that  any  other  lover  could  make  her  fo  loon  foigct  a 
bridegroom  that  was  lo  doar  to  her,  an  f  relfore  hcrtran- 
quilliry  r  Refleft  on  the  noblenefs  of  her  foul,  and  you 
will  conceive  that  a  heart  fo  generous,  may  be  capable 
of  carrying  her  attachment  beyond  the  bour.ds  of  ordi- 
rary  fcnfibility,  and  of  continuing  to  love  an  objrcl 
wh^:h  it  is  fure  never  to  poifefs.  This  is  fuch  a  mufi- 
cal  Ifring,  as  founds  a  long  tin^e  after  it  has  been  once 
brifkly  touched. 

But  do  you  not  fee,  my  dear  Detei-ville,  that  this 
fcntiment  is  too  contrary  to  nature  to  be  durable?  I>o 
you  do\ibt  whether  Ziiia,  whtn  iTie  comes  to  refiecf 
nioie  quietly,  will  perceive  the  injuiflce  of  Aza,  the 
weight  of  his  inditference,  and  the  inutility  of  loving 
without  return  ?  Maintained  hitjicrto  in  her  tendernefs, 
bv  a  klnu  of  ibrcery,  the  illufion  fne  puts  on  herfelf  will 
fo«.n  d.jlipate,  the  image  of  Aza  will  in  a  flKnttime  bc- 
c  inie  burtiienibme,  and  then  her  heart,  void  ot  intercll 
and  eir.ployment,  will  with  difficulty  fupport  itfeif  in 
Aith  a  .'tac  of  inaction.  A  tirefome  ftate  of  iangour  is 
Rn  iuaippoi :uvlc  b-Jithtn  lor  an  acUve  foul.     Zdia  will 

vvilh 


THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCES?.  I15 

with  for  fome  pretence  to  get  rid  or  it,  and  what  pn*- 
tence  will  be  more  happy  tor  you  both,  than  thai  ot 
gratitude  ?  Zilia  proteiies  her  acicnowlcdgmcnts  to  you, 
and  is  tiilly  ieniible  how  much  Ihe  owes  to  your  generous 
proceedings. 

I  come  now  to  the  friendihip  which  fhe  offers  you. — 
By  your  refuluig  this  friendihip,  it  fliould  feem  to  be 
offenfive,  or  at  lealf  unpleaiant  to  you.  You  look  upon 
it  as  a  fentiment  too  weak,  to  anfwer  to  the  vivacity  of 
your  love.  It  i'eeras  like  a  payment  in  counterfeit  coin  ; 
and  you  rejeil  it  becaufe  it  is  not  abfolute  and  complete 
love  :  but,  pray  dear  brother,  is  it  the  name  only  that 
you  would  obtain  ?  For  my  part  I  cannot  help  tiiinking 
lb  :  for  tlie  friendHiip  of  Ziha  ought  to  infpiie  you  with 
lefs  repugnance.  Let  me  tell  you,  even  this  ought  to 
charm  you.  Why  do  you  oblige  me  here  to  difclofe  the 
great  fecrets  of  the  fair  fex  ?  Know,  that  this  fentiment  of 
tricndlhip,  fo  fweet  among  men,  fo  rare  among  women, 
is  always  the  moit  lively  betv/ixt  perfons  of  different 
iexes.  Men  love  one  another  with  cordiality,  womea 
love  each  other  with  diffidence  j  but  two  perfons  of  tiie 
two  fexes  add  to  the  tafte  of  friendihip,  a  I'park  of  that 
fire  which  nature  never  fails  to  infpire.  A  Iprout  of 
paflion  will  attend  the  very  Inrth  of  this  friendihip,  fo 
pure  in  appearance  j  as  fuch  fort  of  friends  are  fully 
enough  fenfible.  Let  them  both  keep  mutuHliy  upori 
their  guard,  it  matters  not :  all  their-  precautions  v/iil 
make  no  change  in  the  imperceptible  progrefs  of  nature, 
and  they  will  loon  be  iurpnied,  that  they  are  fallen  in 
love  with  each  other  without  perceiving  it. 

The  fricndftrip  offered  you  then,  my  tlear  Deter\'I!le, 
Is,  in  my  opiriion,  the  firit  act  of  that  interelting  phy, 
of  wliich  you  lb  much  defire  to  fee  the  unraveilmg  j  it  I* 
the  firll  difcovery  of  the  heart,  and  fmce  tiiat  is  favoura- 
ble to  you,  have  y<^u  any  room  to  complain  ? 

It  is  true,  that  the  name  of  f.  icnddiip  fpreads  a  veil, 
which  hides  a  part  from  your  fight  :  but  it  is  a  veil 
wrought  by  the  hands  of  love,  made  only  to  deceive  jea- 
lous eyes,  but  which  hides  notliing  from  eyes   that  can 

peaeUate, 


Il5  THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS, 

penetrate,  nor  long  conceals  the  truth  from  him  wlio  id 
the  obje<Sl  ot  it.  Do  you  not  now  contels,  my  dear  bro- 
ther, tha£  I  had  room  to  be  Ibrprifed,  when  I  heaid 
you  complain  (b  bitterly  of  the  only  part  that  Zilia  ought 
to  have  taken  ?  Reflcfl  upon  it  we!],  and  you  will  be  of 
my  kn:^iment.  C:in  there  be  a  more  happy  method,  a 
method  better  adapted  to  the  delicacy  ot  you  both  ? 

Would  you  not  always  have  the  better  opinion  of  a 
lady,  who  chufes  to  be  the  more  refei-ved,  to  make  your 
happinefs  the  more  complete?  Who,  by  giving  your 
paliion  a  reafonabie  character,  intends  to  refine  and 
increale  your  pleafure  ? 

Indeed,  my  brother,  you  are  obliged  to  Zilia,  who 
in  the  way  of  tViendfliip  is  preparing  for  you  pleaiiires 
more  ecltatic  than  you  propofcd  for  yourfelf :  flie  neither 
dared,  nor  ought  to  make  you  a  return  of  pafTion  in  the 
manner  that  you  defired.  You  mult  confult  the  fair  fex 
for  lencimenis  of  this  nature  :  and  be  not  aftiamed  that 
the  women  are  here  beforehand  with  you  j  fince  without 
them,  the  men  would  perhaps  be  ignorant  in  the  finefies 
of  the  art  of  love.  Women  are  allowed,  as  a  natural 
eonfequence  of  the  temper  of  their  hearts,  to  have  more 
I'upplencis  of  genius  than  men.  I  do  not  fuppofe  any  ar- 
tifice to  enter  into  this  art  of  love,  of  which  I  amfpeaking  j 
thefe  twochara6fers,  as  much  as  they  refembleone  ano- 
ther,ought  to  be  diitinguiflicd.  All  the  women  of  wit  love 
with  art,  but  not  all  witii  artifice.  As  to  your  dear 
Zilia,  her  heart  is  honell,  noble,  and  elevated  j  but 
/lie  is  ingenious  in  the  moft  fine  and  fubtie  manner  of 
any  woman  I  know.  Tliat  heart  of  hers,  which  is  at 
prcient  wholly  taken  up  with  tne  moil  tender  and  vir- 
tuous pafTi.jn,  but  a  pafiion  cruelly  deceived,  you  will 
at  laii:  nna  to  be  referved  for  you.  Allow  only  a  rea- 
fonabie term  to  Zilia  forgritf,  and,  without  complain- 
ing, leave  time  to  deftroy  in  her  taat  idea  of  glory 
which  fiatters  her  hitherto. 

I'hat  fingular  honour  of  remaining  faithful  to  her  firft 
ties,  even  when  they  are  broken  without  poflibility  of 
a  re- union,  is  a  featiment  which  certainly  fhe  has  not 

learned 


THE    PERUVIAN    PRIN"CE5S.  11^ 

l<"ame'i  among  us  :  rtie  will  therei'ore  at  laft  give  v/av  to 
our  example.  Being  then  free,  fearing  liberty  through 
a  habitude  of  not  enjoying  it,  and  fenlible  at  the  fame 
time  of  your  generous  cares  ;  the  friendship,  which  flie 
now  regards  only  as  a  fweet  lympathy,  will  want  but 
one  advance  farther  to  become  love :  and  that  miracle 
will  be  accomplilhed  without  her  perceiving  it. 

My  dear  Dk^tei-ville,  what  a  charming  profpe^ft  lies 
hei-e  before  you  I  I  think,  you  muil  fee  enough  of  it  to 
engage  ^ou,  without  the  leaif  difficulty,  to  accept  the 
party  which  Zilia  propofes  to  you  with  fo  good  a  grace. 
From  your  folicltudes,  dihnterelfed  in  appearance,  and 
niore  ftill  from  the  nature  of  a  female  heart,  expect  the 
felicity  of  which  you  began  to  defpair. 
LETTER  XLJV. 
Zilia  to  Deterville  :  complains  ^/Xelis'a's  letter, 

AFTER  the  lofs  of  Aza,  1  cou;d  never  have  thought. 
Sir,  that  new  troubles  would  have  reached  mr 
heart.  But  now,  by  fatal  experierice,  I  perceive  the 
contrary,  from  a  difcovcry  I  mace  accidentally,  and 
which  plunges  me  again  ir.to  the  molt  cniel  perplexit)-. 
Your  tiller  came  to  fee  qie  yellerday.  After  her  depar- 
ture I  found  a  paper  in  my  chamber.  I  opened  it  :  but 
how  great  was  my  furprife  to  know  her  hand,  in  a  letter 
addrell^d  to  yoi-ij  in  v/hich,  after  blaming  you  for  not 
accepting  my  offers,  flie  undertakes  to  periuade  you  by 
motives  very  different  from  mine!  Who  could  have 
thought  that  the  ever- tender,  the  ever- generous  Celina, 
my  only  confolation  in  the  blttemefs  of  my  foul,  would 
have  proved  perfidious  ?  After  I  have  given  myfelf  up 
entirely  to  the  fweetneis  of  her  friendlliip,  and  had  not 
the  leaft  refcn^e  in  my  Sincere  love  to  her,  I  ieain  that 
iiie  does  not  love  me  without  diftruft.  If  your  lifter, 
at  the  beginning  of  this  fatal  letter,  loads  me  with 
praifcs,  doubtlels  they  do  not  flow  io  mu'^h  from  her 
own  feutiments,  as  from  htr  fear  of  difpleahng  you  :  for 
on  what  does  fhe  pretend  to  found  your  hope,  if  not 
ripon  the  want  of  Iblidity  in  thete  virtues  v/hich  flie  at- 
Jvibutes  to  me  ?  In  revealing  ta  you  the  ftcrcts  ot  hti- 

lex. 


tlS  THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS. 

Tex,  her  art,  or  rather  artifice,  does  not  turn  to  the  sA- 
vantage  of  her  heart.  Mift^ken  notion!  does  jfiie  thuik 
the  virgins  devoted  to  the  Sun,  ar.d  cducatet:  in  his  tem- 
ple, are  to  be  judged  of  by  the  gf-neral  diltinftion  /lie 
gives  of  the  character  of  women  ?  Is  then;  but  one  model, 
one  rule  to  form  a  judgmeni:  by  ?  The  creator,  who  di- 
verfifies  his  v.'orks  in  a  thouf?!Kl  rn.;nners,  who  imparts 
to  every  covmrry  Ibme  particular  nioperty,  who  givers  to 
us  all  ph.yhcgnomies  lb  various  and  ditrerenti  has  he 
decreed  that  the  charaflers  of  the  muivi  Ihculd  be  every- 
where alike,  and  that  all  reaionable  beii.gs  fliuukl  tliink 
in  the  fame  manner  ?  For  my  part,  I  cannot  eafiiy  be 
perlu^ded  of  this.  Befides,  what  reaibn  has  Hie  to  give 
to  the  men  fuch  happy  pierogatives  ?  Does  fhe  believe 
they  have  a  more  ample  portion  of  tlie  breath  of  the  di- 
vinity ?  We  have,  in  Peru,  ibch  an  opimon  oi  the  di- 
vine Amutas,  who.e  luhiime  knowledge  and  habitudes, 
confecrated  to  virtue,  elevate  the.p,  above  ordinary  men  5 
but  for  other  men,  it  they  have  palTions  which  aie  com- 
mon to  them,  we  ackno'vledseiU  them  virtues  alfo  which 
conduit  and  re6fi'fy  tnofepaflions,  and  v/e  judge  cfth.em 
from  their  aftions,  and  not  from  any  preiuppoled  weak- 
nefTes. 

How  could  fhe  undertake  to  perfuade  you,  that  there 
was  10  little  finnneis  m  mv  fentiments  ?  Certainly  fhe 
has  not  learned  this  from  what  has  paHed.  My  heart, 
formed  to  hanknels  from  my  infancy,  never  (trove  to 
perfuade  the  unfaithful  Aza  of  the  fmcerity  of  my  fires, 
any  other  way  than  by  the  vivacity  with  which  they  were 
exprcfied. 

I  am  ignorant,  and  would  ever  be  ignorantof  that  art, 
ivhicn  degiadcs  women  much  more  than  it  fets  off  their 
charms :  it  onlv  pi  ov^es  their  weaknels,  their  vanity,  and 
their  diffidence  of  the  obje6l  they  would  enflave.  Nature 
knows  not  this  art,  noi-  ever  Ihives  to  adorn  the  graces, 
and  add  charms  to  virtue. 

Vainly  doth  Celma  pretend  to  diltingulfh  art  from  ar- 
tifice :  I  am  not  impoied  upon  by  that  idea.  Does  flie 
feck  for  difguifc  when  it  is  iier  intereft  to  hide  nothing  ? 

Could 


THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS.  iz<j 

Could  one  dare  to  comcis,  without  a  blulh,  that  one  had 
taken  great  pains  to  lead  another  in:o  error  ? 

I  hope  all  froui  the  generoiity  ot  your  heait.  Worthy 
as  you  are  to  h i\e  been  bora  among  us,  I  am  iure  no 
injurious  lufpicion  has  yet  entered  your  foul  3  and  I 
fliould  be  vciy  ibiTy  to  have  you  lee  this  wicked  letter, 
left  \i  fhould  induce  you  to  iuipcct.  But  fhould  I,  De- 
ten'ille,  be  worthy  your  goodneis,  it  the  too  credulous 
Celina  thought  juitly  ? 

As  you  are  too  virtuous  to  think  I  aim  at  glory  in 
performing  my  duty,  do  not  expect  that  either  time,  or 
the  weakneis  of  my  fex  will  make  any  change  in  me  ? 
United  vvith  Aza,  in  ties  which  death  only  fhould  have 
dilTolved,  no  object  can  difengage  me  from  him.  Yet 
comCj  Sir,  enjoy  the  tranquil  fruits  which  gratitude  of- 
fers you  5  come,  and  at  once  enlighten  and  adorn  my  un- 
derftajxling. 

Difengaged  from  tumultuous  paiEons,  you  will  find 
that  rrienuihip  alone  is  worthy  to  fill  our  hearts,  and 
alone  able  to  make  our  dellinv  perfectly  happy. 

LETTER  XLV. 

D^TERVJLLE  to  ZiLiA  :    te  acctfts  her  fimple  fnend- 

Jlip. 

I  WAS  fet  out,  adorable  Zilia,  in  the  firm  refolution 
to  forget  you,  as  the  only  relief  to  my  pains  i  ccu«d 
think  of.  A  long  abfence,  I  prefumed,  might  work 
this  miracle.  But  alas  !  the  anger  inlpired  by  a  tender 
fcntinient  is  fcon  if  ified  by  its  own  principle.  1  am  here 
returned,  more  amorous  and  as  iil-treated  as  ever,  in 
fpite  of  the  glimmerings  of  hope  which  the  infidelity  of 
Aza  had  kindled  in  my  mind.  My  fituation  gives  me 
more  right  tiian  ever  to  complain  :  but  how-cruel  fcever 
your  manner  of  thinking  be  to  me,  it  ifiil  deprives  m.e 
or  liberty.  You  bind  me  to  ycu  in  fo  engaging  a  man- 
ner, by  the  tender  fiiendihip  you  offer  m.e,  that  though 
the  bounds  you  prefcribe  to  it  appear  to  me  a  I'pecies  of 
ingratitude,  I  perceive  that  my  complaints,  Ihould  I 
HOW  make  them,  would  becom.e  unjuil. 

'  ■'idle  I  fubmit  tc  die  rigour  of  your  laws,  my  heart 

dares 


120  THE    PERUVIAN    PRIMCESS. 

dares  ftill  to  pielerve  the  hope  of  molitying  that  rigour. 
Pardon  my  diforcler  and  my  ilncerity  :  1  exprefs  the  llni- 
ple  notions  ot  my  heart ;  I  am  pleated  with  thefe  illufi- 
ons,  and  lorry  when  my  realbn  returns  to  convince  me 
of  my  ralhuel's  :  then  1  blufli  tor  a  moment ;  but  ibou 
the  ideas  of  a  happy  futurity  triumph.  Such  is  my 
weaknefsl  a  mortirving  rcfle6Hon  for  me,  but  a  reflec- 
tion that  raiffslb  much  the  more  the  glory  of  the  daugh- 
ter of  the  fun. 

In  your  preience,  fair  Zilla,  one  of  your  looks  will 
recal  the  refpe<5l  that  is  due  to  you  :  my  ardour  to  pleafe 
vou  will  raife  me  above  lenfe,  and  you  (hall  be  the  rule 
of  niy  manners.  Bound  and  united  togetlier  only  by  the 
lentiments  of  the  Ibul,  and  fimilitude  of  genius,  welhall 
have  nothing  to  fear  from  thole  dllgufts,  which  the  anx> 
ietv  of  the  pallions  drag  along  with  them.  Our  quiet 
and  unwear)'  days,  like  a  perpetual  Ipring,  when  all 
leems  to  rtart  fre/h  out  of  the  h.ands  of  nature,  fliallflow 
in  perfe(5l  felicity  j  we  Ihall  enjoy  mutually  the  benefits 
of  this  nature,  aud  crown  with  it  our  Innccence.  Ifwc 
at  any  time  fpeak  of  Aza,  it  fliall  be  only  to  recal  and 
complain  of  his  Ingratitude.  Perhaps  deitiny  alone  was 
culpable  of  his  change.  But  however  that  may  be,  he 
was  no  longer  worthy  of  the  virgin  of  the  fun,  after  he 
had  bri^athed  the  native  air  of  the  cniel  enemies  ot  Pervi, 

Xet  me  beg  you  to  bear  no  ill-will  to  my  filler  j  her 
tenderneiis  for  me,  and  her  lenfe  of  my  lituation,  have  made 
her  imagine  all  the  realbns  that  you  have  leen,  in  order 
to  comtort  me,  and  give  a  new  birth  to  my  hope  :  this 
motive  ouglit  to  be  her  excufe.  Prom.ife  me  to  pardon 
her,  divine  Ziila:  there  fiiould  be  nothing  to  imbitter 
the  iweets  of  that  chain.ing  ibciety,  which  we  pi^opole 
to  form  in  your  company. 

In  this  hope  I  let  out  to  come  and  thiow  my  felt  at 
your  feet :  I  will  look  upon  this  new  habitation  as  the 
temple  of  the  llm  :  I  will  there  refpeclfully  adore  the  lu- 
minary that  enlightens  it,  and  theubie(5l  of  all  my  cares 
fliall  be,  to  render  you  inecllajitl y  tl>e  molt  pure  and  moft 
lubiniHive  homage,  "  THE 


THE  SEQUEL 

OF   THE 

PERUVIAN  PRINCESS. 

CONTAINING   THE 

LETTERS    OF    A  Z  A, 
ADVERTISEiMENT. 

THE  reading  of  the  Peruvian  Letters  made  me  recoiled  that  \ 
had  fcenin  Spain,  fome  years  fince,  a  colleftion  of  letters  by  a 
Peruvian,  whole  hiilory  has  fmce  appeared  to  me  ftrcngly  to  re- 
femble  that  of  Zi'ia.  1  procured  that  manufcripr,  and  1  found 
that  they  were  the  very  letters  of  Aza,  tranflared  into  Spaniih. 
We  are,  doubtlcls,  obliged  to  Kanhuiicap,  the  friend  of  Aza, 
to  whom  the  principal  part  of  thefe  letters  are  addreflcd,  for  their 
tranflacion  hrtixnthe  Peruvian.  I  found  a  concern  for  Aza  excit- 
ed ia  ir.e  by  reading  thefe  letters,  that  engaged  mc  to  undertake 
their  tranflation.  i  perceived  with  joy,  thofe  odious  ideas  efFiC- 
ed  from  my  mind,  which  Zilia  had  given  me,  of  a  prince  more 
unfortunate  than  inconftant.  I  imagine  that  others  will  experi- 
ence the  fame  pleafure  :  for  to  fee  virtue  juftificd  is  at  all  timos 
plejfiiie. 

There  are  many  who  will,  perhaps,  think  it  a  crime  in  Az>, 
to  have  defcribed,  under  the  name  of  Spanifh  minncrs,  thofe  fail- 
ings, and  even  vices,  that  are  peculiar  to  the  French  nation. 
How  fpecious  foever  this  charge  may  appear,  it  will  be  eafily  li- 
ijuidated,  if  we  properly  coniider,  with  M.  Fontenelle,  that  a 
natix'e  of  England  and  France,  are  countrymen  at  Peking.  I 
^are  not  fiavtcr  mvlllf  with  having  painted  in  their  proper  co- 
lours, thofe  noble  :magts,  thofe  grand  and  beautiful  ideas,  that 
are  to  be  found  in  the  Spaniih  original :  I  mit^ht  inp-jte  it  to  the 
drlFerence  of  the  two  languages,  and  to  the  common  lot  of  tran- 
flations  5  the  reader,  perhaps,  will  impute  it  to  me  j  and  we 
may  both  of  us  be  right  in  our  fentiments. 

LETTER  I. 

To  Zilia  :  Aza  mforms  Zilia  of  the  hope  he  enter- 
tains offoo'ii  hchcUing  htr  again  j  and  rf  the  efforts  that 
ke  7nade  ta  ofpofe  the  brutal  'violence  of  the  Spaniarils. 

MAY  thy  tcafs  be  dlfHpated  like  the  dew  before  the 
lifing  fun  !   May  thy  tetters,  changed  into  flow- 
ers, j'all  at  thy  feet!  and  by  the  vivacity  of  their  colours 
exprefs  \ht  aidcucy  of  n^y  Icvc,  niore  glowing  than  tliat 
h  divine 


IIZ  THE    PERUVIAN    PRfNCESS. 

divine  lumlnaiy  which  gave  it  birth.     Zilia,  iVifmiU  thy 
Ifears — Aza  iVill  lives  ;  that  is,  for  ever  loves  thee. 

Our  miieries  have  an  end.  The  happy  moment  ap- 
proaches that  lliall  unite  us  for  ever.  O  divine  felicity  I 
Why  do  we  yet  pant  for  thy  enjoyment  ? 

The  predi<ftions  of  Viracocha  are  ftill  unaccomplifhed-. 
I  am  now  on  the  aug-ull  throne  of  Manco-Capa,  and 
Zilia  is  not  by  my  fide.  1  reign,  and  thou  art  loaded 
with  tetters  1  Be  comtorted,  thou  tender  obje6l  of  my  ar- 
dent affc-iSticns.  The  fun  has  too  fully  proved  cur  love  } 
he  now  prepares  to  crown  it  with  tclicity.  Thefe  knots, 
the  weak  interpreters  of  our  fentinients ;  thefe  knots, 
whole  ufe  I  blcis,  but  whofe  fate  1  envy,  fliali  behold 
thee  free.  From  out  thy  trighttul  prifon  thcu  Hialt  fly 
to  my  amis.  As  the  dove,  efcaped  from  the  talons  of 
the  vulture,  fiies  to  participate  of  htipplnels  with  her 
faithful  companion,  lb  Ihak  thou  repoie  in  my  heart, 
yet  trembling  with  agitation,  thy  paft  afflictions  j  thy 
tendcrnefs  and  my  felicity.  What  joy,  what  tranlpcrt ! 
To  drown  thy  miieries  in  blifs !  Thou  flialt  fee  at  thy  feet 
thofe  brutal  masters  of  the  thunder :  and  eventhofe  hands 
which  liave  loaded  thee  with  fetters,  fliiU  aid  in  feating 


tiiee  on  tne  tlu'one. 

But  why  {hould  the  remembrance  of  my  misfortunes 
pollute  lb  pure  a  happinefs  ?  Why  muft  I  remind  thee 
©f  miferies  that  are  no  more  ?  Do  we  not  depreciate  the 
favours  of  the  gods,  when  we  negleft  to  enjoy  them  in 
their  full  extent  ?  Not  to  forget  our  misfortunes  is  in  a 
manner  to  merit  them.  Yet  you  dehre,  my  dear  Zilia, 
that  I  fhould  add  to  my  affliiSlions  the  difgrace  of  having 
defei-ved  them.  I  love  thee — I  can  tell  it  thee — I  foon 
again  fliall  behold  thee  :  what  new  eclairciflement  can 
1  give  thee  of  my  tate  ?  Can  I  delcribe  what  is  pad, 
when  I  am  not  able  to  exprefs  the  fentiments  that  at  this 

moment  agitate  my  foul ! But  what  do  I   fay  ? 

Zilia,  ycu  will  have  it  fo. 

Remember  then,  if  you  can  do  it  and  yet  live,  that 
oay,  that  horrid  day,  whqfe  Aurora  wa^  rcfplendent 
with  joy.  The 


THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS.  ll^ 

The  fun,  in  the  fulnefs  of'  his  gloiy,  Ipread  over  my 
vliage  the  Came  rays  with  which  he  illuminated  thine, 
Tranfporis  of  joy,  and  flames  of  love,  enrapt  my  heart. 
My  Ibul  was  loll  in  that  divinity  from  whom  it  derives 
its  being.  My  eyes  fparkled  with  the  fires  they  re- 
ceived from  thine,  and  ipoke  a  thoufand  defires.  Re- 
itrained  by  the  decorum  of  ceremonies,  I  W^nt  to  the 
temple  :  my  heart  flew  thither.  There  I  beheld  thee  j 
more  lair  than  the  morning  ftar,  more  blooming  than 
the  new  blown  rofe;  accuiing  the  Cucipatas  of  delay  3 
and  to  me  tenderly  lamenting  the  obli-acle  by  which  we 
were  yet  leparated.  When  in  a  momtnt,  O  dreadful 
remembrance  I  the  lightnings  flafti^d,.  the  thunder  roar- 
ed. At  the  tremendous  alarm  all  around  me,  I  fell  to 
the  earth.     Proftrate  I  adored  the  fovereign  Yalpor.     I 

implored  for  thee.     The  peals  were  redoubled they 

relented they   ceafed.      I   rofe,  trembling   for   thy 

fafety.  What  horror  i  what  a  dreadful  profpect !  fur- 
rounded  bv  a  cloud  of  fuiphur,  by  flames  and  by  blood  ; 
in  a  frightful  confufion,  my  eyes  faw  nothing  but  death  j 
my  ears  heard  nothing  but  fcreams  J  my  heart  fought  no- 
thir.g  but  thee ;  and  every  objecl  told  it  thou  wert  loft.  I 
Itill  hear  the  thunder  that  ftruck  thee  :  I  fee  thee  pale, 
disfigured  j  thy  bofom  fmeared  with  blood  and  duit :  a 
cruel  fire  devours  thee. 

The  clouds  difappear  :  the  obfcurity  is  difptrfed. — 
Can  yon  believe  it,  Zilia  ?  It  was  not  the  gi'eat  Yalpor. 
The  Gods  are  not  ib  ci-uel.  Thofc  barbariaiiS,  the 
ufurpers  of  their  power,  had  uied  it  to  our  deftiu^tion. 
No  fooner  did  I.  difcover  the  detelfed  crew,  than  I  ip:.'ang 
amidif  them.  Love,  and  the  gods  whole  powers  fhey 
had  profaned,  lent  me  their  aid.  Thv  prefcnce  aug- 
mented it.  I  bore  down  all  before  me.  Yet  a  moment 
snd  I  had  fecured  thee:  but  they  bore  you  through  the 
facred  portal,  and  you  vaniflied  from  my  fgil^  Grief 
leized  my  foul :  deipair  drew  tears  from  my  eyes.  Dif- 
tr261ed  with  rage,  I  darted  on  them.  They  furround- 
ed  me.  By  the  fury  of  the  aflault,  my  veiy  amis  were 
liefcroyed,  Exhaufted  by  the  violence  of  my  efforts,  aad 
L  2  overpowered 


l2q.  tHE  rERUVtAN    PRINCElSS. 

bveipovvered  by  nunibcrs,  I  rcll  upon  the  profaned  bo- 
dies oFniy  anceiiors*.  There  my  blood  and  my  tears 
were  ignomlniouily  rtied  amidft  thy  expiring  compani- 
ons ;  even  on  thok  garlands  which  thy  hands  had  woven, 
and  with  which  thou  thouldil  have  crov^'ned  my  head. 
A  mortal  culdneis  leized  my  lenles.  My  fight  grew 
dim,  it  vanifhcd.  I  ceafeti  to  live,  but  could  not  ceaie 
to  love  thee. 

Doubtlefs  It  was  love,  ajid  the  hopes  of  avenging  thy 
injuries,  my  dear  Zilia,  that  rellored  me  to  life.  I 
foui^  myfelf  in  mv  palace,  I'urrounded  by  my  attend- 
ants. Furv  wa>j  fvicceetled  bydel'poodency  :  I  fent  forth 
the  mod  bitter  lamentations.  Then  kized  my  arms, 
and  urged  my  guards  to  vengeance.     '  Perifh  !"  I  cried, 

*  perifh!  rhoic  impious  wretches,  who  have  violated  our 

*  moll  facred  alVlums  !   Arm  !  attack.  I  deftroy  the  inhu- 

*  raanmonftersi'  Nothing  could  calm  ray  transports  ;  tili 
Capa-Inca,  mv  father,  intormed  of  my  fury,  alfured 
me  that  I  flTOuid  again  behold  thee  ;  that  you  were  in 
iafety  j  and  that  we  fhould  yet  enjoy  each  other.  Wh^t 
ijew  tranlpoit,  what  ecftafies  then  poflefl'ed  my  foul.  O 
my  dear  Zilia,  can  the  heart  that  has  once  knovw'n  fuch 
plealiire  ever  exift  without  it  ? 

A  bafe  avidity,  for  a  defpicable  metal,  was  the  f^le 
motive  that  brought  thefe  .barbarians  to  our  coalb.  My 
father  knew  their  defigns,  and  has  prevented  their  d«;- 
mands.  No  fooner  Hiall  they  liave  leilcred  thee  to  my 
vows,  than  they  will  depart,  loaded  with  prefents. — 
This  people,  whom  gold  has  armed  againft  us,  and  has 
made  our  friends,  are  now  divelfed  of  their  ferocity,  and 
give  us  incelTant  marks  of  their  gratitude  and  refpei5l. 
They  bow  down  before  me,  as  our  Cucipatas  do  befoi-e 
the  fun.  Is  it  poflible  that  a  wretched  mafs  of  matter 
can  thus  change  the  heart  of  man  5  and  of  barbarians, 
as  they  were,  make  them  the  inftruments  of  my  felicity. 
Is  it  in  the  power  of  a  metal,  and  of  monfters,  to  retard, 
and  at  lall  to  complete  cur  happinefs.  Adorable 

*  The  Peruvians  place  the  embalmed  bodies  of  their  kiniji  in 
tkeir  temples. 


THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS.  I25 

Adorable  Zilia  I  Light  of  my  foul !  What  agitations 
has  thy  de  cription  of  our  direiul  feparrition  given  me  ? 
I  have  been  prefent  with  thee  in  every  danger.  My  fury 
was  renewed :  but  the  affurances  of  thy  love,  like  a  po- 
tent balm,  has  appeafed  that  wound  whicii  you  gave  ray- 
heart.  No,  Zilia,  life  has  no  ioy  to  be  compared  with 
thy  love :  all  my  powers  are  loft  in  that  palTion :  my 
impatience  increafes  evei-y  moment:  it  devours  mej  I 
burn ;   I  die. 

Zilia!  give  me  back,  my  life,  O  that  Lhuama* 
would  lend  you  his  wings — that  the  iwifttft  lightning 
could  bear  you  to  my  anus — while  my  heart,  yet  more 
fwiftly,  flies  to  meet  thee. 

LETTER  II. 
To  Zilia  :  Aza's  defpair  in  being  decei-jedby  thepro- 
mfes  of  the  Spaniards  ^  he  flatters  himfelf  H^j'ttb  a'venging 
the  caufe  of  Zi  L I  A. 

DOES  this  earth  yet  exift,  O  Zilia  ?  f  Do  we  ftiU 
behold  the  light  of  the  fun,  while  falfhood  and 
treafon  are  in  his  empire.  Even  the  virtues  themfelves 
are  baniihed  from  my  diftracled  heart.  Dclpair  and  fury 
kave  taken  their  place. 

Thofe  brutal  Spaniards,  who  had  the  audacity  to  load 
thee  with  fetters,  but  were  too  bafe,  too  inhuman  to 
free  thee  from  them,  have  dared  to  deceive  me.  In  vio- 
lation ut  their  promiles,  you  are  not  vet  rcftored  tome. 

Yalpcr,  why  doft  thou  withhold  thy  hand  ?  Dart 
againft  thefe  perfidious  wretches,  deftruftive  thunders, 
like  thofe  they  have  purloined  from  thee.  May  ibme 
Eoxious  fiame,  after  a  thoufand  torments,  reduce  them 
to  riOies.  Cruel  monilers  !  whofe  crime  the  blood  of 
thy  lateft  poiterity  can  alone  expiate.  J  Perfidious  na- 
tion, who2e  cities  fliould  be  laid  wafte,  the  land  fowed 
with  ftones,  and  deluged  with  blood.  What  iwrrors  do 
yo'.u  join  to  an  infamous  perjury ! 

*  The  great  eagle  of  Perj.     -f  This  letter  was  not  fent  to  her, 

X  The  Peruvians  extend  the  pur.iAinent  Of  crimes  to  the  de- 
ce  :  Jants  of  the  tranfgreflbr  :  and  where  any  great  offence  is  corn  - 
mitt!.:d,  the  city  is  treated  as  here  dtfcribe^J. 

L  3  Alrea.:-.- 


116  THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS. 

Already  has  the  lacred  rays  ot  the  lun  twice  eiUight- 
tned  his  children,  and  my  beloved  Zilia  is  not  yet  re- 
tlored  to  my  impatient  wiflies.  Thole  eyes,  in  which  I 
ought  to  place  my  felicity,  are  at  this  moment  drowned 
in  floods  ot' grief"  It  is,  perhaps,  through  the  moft bit- 
ter tears  thole  lires  are  darted,  which  ought  to  inflanie 
my  heart.  Thole  arms  in  which  the  gods  fliould  have 
crowned  the  mort  ardent  love,  are,  perhaps,  as  this  mo- 
ment loaded  withbafe  fetters.  '  O  baneful  grief!  Odif^ 
trafting  thought  1 

Tremble,  vile  mortals 4  The  fun  has  lent  me  his  a- 
venging  powers.  My  injured  love  (liall  render  thera  itiQ 
more  deltruiSflve. 

It  is  by  thee  I  Iwear,  thou  animating  fire,  from  wliom 
we  have  received  our  being,  :Mid  by  whotii  we  exill.* — 
It  is  by  thy  pure  Hames,  with  whole  divine  ardour  I 
am  now  poireiVed  5  O  lun  !  may  I  never  more  behold  thy 
genial  rays :  plunged  in  horrid  niglit,  may  the  pleafii^ 
Aurora  never  again  proclaim  thy  return  j  if  A7ado  -asU: 
deltioy  that  atrocious  race  who  have  dared  to  polhite 
thele  lacred  regions  with  faiihood^  Thou,  my  beioveeX 
Zilia,  the  unhappy  objt(9t:  of  all  my  traniports,  dry  up 
thy  tears.  Thou  fhait  icon  behold  thy  lover  overthrew' 
his  enemies,  break,  thy  fetters,  and  caft  them  on  his 
toes.  Every  moment  augments  my  fury  and  their  prt- 
nlihment.  A  cruel  joy  is  already  in  polleinon  ot"  ms 
heart.  At  this  moment  I  leeni  to  hatbe  in  the  blood  ce: 
thole  perfidious  monifers.  Ivly  i^age  is  equal  to  arur 
I0V&. 

I  go  to  furpafs  them  in  barbailty:  that  fn^U  "be  -my 
guide  5  I  haite  to  the  purlult.  Zilia,  my  deareft  Zilia, 
be  allured  or  vi6lory,  for  it  is  thy  wrongs  1  go  to  .a- 
venge. 

LETTF.R  III. 
ToKanhuisCap.     From  Madrid.     AT.\dejiribes  U  hh 

friend  the  d'ljiraded Jituation  of  kis  keart. 
*\T /'HAT  divinity,  ferilible  of  my  wrongs,  gencffou^s 
V  V     rriend,  has  preierved  thee  to  be  the  comforter  of 

*  The  Peruvians  Iv.j~pufe  the  foul  to  be  an  f  mana'"icn  fioin  the 
fun,  inv 


The   PERUVIAN   PRINCESS.  T27 

my  diftrefs  ?  Is  it  true  then,  that  in  the  inidft  of  the 
moll  honid  affli6lions,  we  can  tarte  I'ome  plealure ?  and 
tlkat  how  unfortunate  Ibever  in  ourfclvcs  we  can  contri- 
bute to  the  happinefs  of  others  ?  Thy  hands  are  loaded 
with  fetters,  and  yet  thev  afford  me  comfort  :  thy  mind 
is  lolf  in  grief,  but  Itill  you  dimlnifli  my  infelicity. 

A  ftranger,  and  a  captive,  inthefe  barbarous  regions, 
you  make  me  ftill  enjoy  my  country,  though  fo  far  dif- 
t3nt  from  it.  Dead  to  the  red  of  mankind,  I  woidd 
live  alone  for  you.  It  is  only  to  you  that  my  dillraft- 
ed  mind  is  able  to  exprels  itlclf,  and  that  my  feeble 
hands  can  ibmetimes  form  thofc  knots  which  unite  us  in 
defiance  of  our  cruel  enemies. 

You  will  forgive  m.e,  if  the  moft  tender  and  ardent 
love  does  more  frequentlv  prefent  itfelf,  than  friendship 
and  revenge.  The  pleafures  ot  the  one  are  a  conibla- 
tion,  the  violence  ot  the  other  has  its  charms  :  but  ail 
things  yield  to  love.  It  is  not,  that  lubdued  by  the 
ftrokes  of  fortune,  my  afflictions  have  diminifhed  my 
courage.  A  king,  1  think  as  a  king  :  though  a  Have, 
I  iUtfcr  no  fentiments  of  flavecy  to  approach  me.  I  thirft 
for  vengeance,  though  without  hope.  Fain  would  I 
change  both  thy  lot  and  my  own.  Alas  !  I  can  only  de- 
plore them. 

From  our  native  land  we  were  tranfported  to  a  new 
world  i  and  in  fpite  of  my  prayers,  we  were  Icparated. 
Our  friendfliip  became  an  objecl  of  fear  to  our  conque- 
rors :  accuifomed  to  crimes,  could  they  do  otherwile 
than  dread  our  virtues  ?  Was  it  thus,  Kanhuifcap,  that 
the  day  (liould  have  ended,  on  which  thy  courage  and 
mine,  and  what  is  more,  my  love,  ought  to  have  ren- 
dered me,  by  vi6lory,  worthy  of  the  power  that  had 
SLiTned  me ;  of  that  bright  if ar  which  gave  me  birth ;  and 
worthy  of  thy  applaufe:  when  the  Sun,  the  foe  to  per- 
jury, fhould'havc  avenged  his  children  5  fliould  have 
fealfed  them  with  the  imoaking  fieHi  of  thole  deteftabie 
inonliers,  and  have  drenched  them  with  their  blood  r 

Is  it  thus  that  I  muft  revenge  the  wrongs  of  Zilia  ? 
vhile  flie,  ccniumed  by  the  moil  arJiut  lovs;,  iliil  burns 

in 


TlS  THE  PERUVIAN    PRINCESS. 

"a  thofe  fetters  which  I  cannot  break.  Zilia!  wliom  the 
'nfamous  ravifhers  ....  O  ye  Gods,  hide  from  me 
thole  dreadful  images  ....  What  do  I  fay,  Kanhu- 
ilcap,  the  Gods  themfelves  cannot  baniili  them  from  my 
mind.  I  can  no  longer  behold  my  Zilia  j  a  cruel  ele- 
ment divides  us.  Perhaps  her  griefs — our  enemies — the 
waves  ....  a  mortal  ftroke  now  pierces  my  heart. 
My  friend  I  fnik  under  the  weight  of  my  diftrefs.  My 
Quipos  fall  from  my  hands.  Zilia  ....  my  beloved 
Zilia! 

LETTER  IV. 

To  the  fame:  Alarms  of  Aza  for  the  fate  cf  Zilia  ;  vf 

<Txhom  he  has  had  frightful  prefages. 

FAITHFUL  Anqui,  thy  Quipos  have  for  a  moment 
fufpended  my  alarms,  but  they  cannot  difperfe  them. 
To  that  healing  balm  which  thy  friendftiip  fpreads  over 
my  woes,  conftan'"ly  fucceeds  a  dreadful  rem.embrancci. 
At  every  inftant  I  fee  my  Zilia  in  fettersj  the  fun  dilgraced; 
his  temples  profaned  :  I  behold  my  father  bending  under 
the  weight  of  chains,  as  well  as  years  :  I  fee  my  coun- 
try defolated.  I  exift  by  mil'eries  alone  j  and  every  cir- 
cumftance  ferves  to  increafe  them.  The  fliades  of  the 
night  prefent  me  with  nought  but  frightful  images.  la 
vain  do  I  feek  tranquillity  in  the  arms  of  fleep  ;  there  ![ 
find  nothing  but  toiTnents.  This  very  night  Ztlla  agaia 
prefented  herfelf  before  me.  The  horrors  of  death  were 
painted  on  her  countenance.  My  name  feemed  to  el<:aj)e 
from  her  dying  lips  :  I  faw  it  traced  on  the  quipos  th;it 
fell  from  her  hands.  Unknown  barbarians,  their  arms 
ftained  with  blood.  In  the  midft  of  flames  and  tumulr, 
took  her  from  one  cf  thofe  enormous  machines  in  which 
we  were  tranfported.  They  £^cmed  to  prefen*"  her  in  tri- 
umph to  their  hideous  chief:  when,  in  an  inftant,  the 
fea  mounting  to  the  clouds,  offered  nothing  to  my  fight 
but  waves  of  blood,  floating  carc-fes,  large  logs  or'woctl 
partly  confumcd,  fires,  and  devouring  flames.  In  vain 
would  I  difTipate  thefe  meb.ncholy  ideas ;  they  contirai- 
aliy  return,  and  fix  themfelves  in  my  mind.  Nothing  al- 
ieviates  my  diilicfs :   every  th'ng  a'.'.j^ments  it,     I  hate 

even 


THE    PERUVIAN    PRfKCES^.  72rt 

even  the  air  I  breathe.  I  reproacli  the  waves  with  not 
havino:  Iwallowed  me  up.  I  complain  to  the  Godi  that 
they  lH!l  lutTer  me  to  exi(L  If  their  boimty,  lefs  cruel* 
pennitted  me  to  forlake  this  ligiit  j  if  I  could  difpofeof 
this  fparic  of  divinity  which  they  ha.ve  communicated  to 
me  J  if  it  were  not  a  horrible  crime  for  a  mortal  to  de- 
Itroy  t!ie  work  of  the  divinity ;  could  my  wealcnefs  bs 
condemned,  Kanhuifcap?  Ought  my  ipir.t  to  wander  in 
the  air  ?  My  mifeiies  would  have  an  end.  But  what  do 
I  fav?  Each  day  increafes  them.  Participate  with  me, 
O  Kanhuifcap!  my  piercing  griefs  :  learn,  it  it  be  pof- 
ilbie,  fome  news  of  Ziliaj  while  my  diftrafled  heart  de- 
mands her  of  the  Gods — of  all  nature— of  mvfelf. 

LETTER  V. 

lo  the  fame:  Aza  concei^jes  hope  of  recei-vhig from  Kan'- 

H u I s c \vfo?ne  account  of  Zilia. 

MAY  thoie  divine  ravs  which  give  us  life,  comfort 
thee  with  their  moft  benignant  warmth.  Kan- 
huifcap, thou  haft  kindled  in  my  heart  the  moft  flattering 
hopes.  The  progi'els  you  have  made  in  the  Spanifhian- 
gurtge  has  already  enabled  you  to  learn,  that  the  hrft 
vefirrls  which  are  expected  to  arrive  on  the  coaft  where 
you  dwell,  v/ill  come  from  the  empire  of  the  Sun.  By 
t.hem  you  will  know  the  fate  of  her  for  whom  alone  I 
exiit.  Judge  therefore  with  what  impatience  I  attend 
your  informations.  I  already  launch  forth  into  the  re- 
erions  of  hnppinefs.  The  fituat'on  of  Ziiia  is  laid  open 
to  my  fight.  Already  do  I  fee  her  reftorcd  to  the  temple 
of  the  Sn., ;  void  of  all  grief  but  that  o.'  my  diftance  from 
her.  There  fhe  decks  the  altars  of  the  God,  and  adorns 
them  as  much  bv  her  charms  as  by  tlie  works  of  her 
hands.  As  fome  beauteous  flower  after  a  ftorm,  but  ftilt 
agitated  by  the  winds,  receives  thef  •  "h  rays  of  the  fun, 
while  the  water  that  covers  it  ferves  (^nly  to  augment  its 
lultre ;  fo  does  Zilia  feem  more  blooming,  and  more  dear 
to  my  heart.  Now  flie  appears  to  m.e  like  the  fun  after 
a  long  obfcurity,  whofe  bright  beams  dazzle  the  fight, 
ami  declare  the  return  of  a  pleafmg  feafon.  Then  I  leem 
^o  be  at  her  feet.     There  I  expcri>;nce  concern,  emotion, 

pkaiure. 


130  THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS. 

plealure,  refpefl,  tendcrneis,  and  ail  thofe  lentlments  with 
which  I  was  affcded,  when  in  reality  I  enjoyed  her 
pi-efence.  Even  thole,  Kanhuifcap,  with  which  her  heart 
was  agitated,  I  then  prove.  How  ftrong  are  the  chains 
©fillufion!  but  yet  how  delightful !  My  real  evils  are 
deftroyed  by  imaginary  pleasures.  I  behold  Zilia  happy  j 
and  my  felicity  is  complete. 

O  my  dear  Kanhuifcap,  do  not  fruftrate  a  hope  In 
which  my  happinefs  confills,  and  v/hich  may  be  deftroyed 
by  impatience  alone.  Do  not  let  the  leait  retardment, 
my  generous  friend,  delay  my  happinefs.  May  thy 
Quipos,  knotted  by  the  hands  of  gladnefs,  be  borne  to 
me  upon  the  wings  of  the  wind  :  and  in  return  for  thy 
friendfhip,  may  the  molt  exquifite  perfum.es  becontinu- 
?dly  diffuied  over  thy  head. 

LETTER  VI. 

To  the  fame:  the  inquietudes  of  Az  a  are  cahned  by  the 

?ie--vjs  'ivhich  his  frriefid gi-ves  him  of  Zilia. 

OF  wh?t  delicious  waters  hall  thou  made  ufe,  my 
dear  friend,  to  quench  that  cniel  fire  which  devoured 
my  heart  ?  To  inquietudes  that  diftra^led  me  unceaf- 
ingly,  and  to  griefs  by  which  I  was  totally  overwhelmed, 
you  have  made  to  fucceed  tranquillity  and  joy.  I  Ibun 
ftiall  again  behold  my  Zilia.  O  happinefs  almoft  unhoped 
for !  But  yet  flie  is  withheld  from  me.  O  cruel  pro- 
craftination !  In  vain  does  my  heart  go  forth  to  meet 
her.  In  vain  does  my  whole  Ibul  attem.pt  to  mix  with 
hers  ;  there  is  ftiil  enough  left  to  tell  me  that  I  am  far 
from  her. 

Soon  Ihall  I  again  behold  her  ;  and  that  delightful 
thought,  far  from  calming,  increafes  my  inquietude. — 
Separated  from  m.y  lile  itlelf,  judge  what  torments  I  en- 
dure. Attach  moment  I  die j  and  recover  but  to  defire 
in  vain.  L-Ke  the  liunter  who  in  running  to  quench, 
augm.ents  the  thirlt  that  devours  him,  fo  does  my  hope 
render  more  fierce  the  flame  that  confumes  me.  The 
nearer  I  approach  to  an  union  with  Zilia,  the  more  I  tear 
to  ioie  her.  How  often,  my  faithful  friend,  has  one 
moment  already  feparated  us  :  and  tnat  cruel  moment,  at 
theheight  of  my  felicity,  I  ftiil  fear.  Aw 


THE    PERUVIAN    PRIN'CESS.  I3I 

An  element,  cruel  a^  inccnftant,  is  the  depofitoi  y  of 
Tiiv  happinels.  Sav  yu  not,,  that  Zliia  abandons  tlie 
empire  ot  the  fun,  to  ccnie  to  thelc  horrid  ciiniates.  A 
lons^  tiine  wandering  on  the  fea  before  ilie  can  reach  theie 
conlis,  what  dangers  has  (he  not  to  experience  ?  And  how 
much  more  have  I  not  to  fear  for  her  ?  But  whither 
do;s  my  pailion  carry  me !  I  ara  talking  of  mill-ry,  when 
all  things  promife  happinefs  ;  joys  of  which  the  tliought 
alone!  ....  Ah  I  Kanhuifcap,  what  tranfports,  what 
feelings  hitherto  unknown  !  Every  fenie  feparately  en- 
joys the  fame  plealure — Zilia  is  before  my  eyes.  I 
hear  the  tender  accents  of  her  voice.  I  embrace  her; 
I  die. 

LETTER  VII. 

To  the  fame:  Aza  <^j:ith  Alonzo,  ^':ko  mfiru6ls  hhn  in 

the  manners  of  the  Spaniards. 

AS  fnbie6l  to  vicilutude,  as  accident  can  prevent  my 
felicity,  Kinhuifcap,  fo  the  term  to  which  you 
refer  its  co.npletion  rauil  neceflarily  diminiih  it. 

Before  the  iiin  can  make  me  happy,  hem.ufta  hundred 
times  enlighten  the  world  !  Before  that  immenfity  of  t:me, 
Zilia  cannot  be  reltored  to  me  ! 

In  vain  does  friendfnip  c-^-jeavour  to  foften  the  rigours 
of  mv  lot:  it  can  by  no  means  diveft  me  ct  anxiety. 

Aicnzo,  whom  the  unjuit  Capa  Incaof  the  Spaniards 
has  appointed  to  fet,  with  my  father,  oil  the  throne  of 
the  fun  :  Alonzo,  to  wh.om  the  Spaniards  have  given  me 
in  charge,  in  vsin  attempts  to  free  me  irora  my  diltrefs. 
The  friendflup  which  he  fnews  me  5  the  cuftcms  of  his 
:ountr)'men  which  he  points  cut  to  me :  the  air.ufem.ents 
^at  he  endeavours  to  procure  mc  j  the  reflections  to 
-vhich  I  abandon  m.ylcli",  are  net  able  tomiikeme  fcrgct 
n  y  misfortunes. 

That  piercing  grief  into  which  the  feparaticn  frcm 
Zilia  had  thrown  me,  has  hici^erto  prevented  me  Ircm 
giving  any  attention  to  the  objects  that  lurround  rae.  I 
law,  I  breathed  nothing  but  '-niftry.  I  feem.ed  to  find 
pieafure,  fo  to  fay,  in  my  misi*  r:unfs  :  icarce  ccuiil  I 
be  faid  to  live,  how  tiitn  could  I  icirn  rtfiedions,?    But 

no 


IJZ  THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS, 

no  iboner  had  I  given  lo  joy  tliofe  moments  that  love  af- 
fjgned'it,  than  I  began  to  optn  ir.y  eyes.  Whatobjedis 
then  ihuck.  my  light!  I  cannot  tlelcnbe  to  you  how 
much  the)-  yet  iui-prife  me.  I  found  myielt"  aione,  in 
tlie  midft  of  a  world  that  I  never  thought  had  exilkd.  j 
there  faw  beings  whom  I  rekmble.  ^Ve  each  appeare<t 
to  be  leized  with  an  equal  furprile:  my  eager  Idoks  weie 
Jolt  in  theirs.  A  numberlefs  people  are  continually  agi- 
tated in  the  fame  circle,  and  in  which  they  feem  to  he 
confined.  Others  that  are  feldomfeen,  and  whoarcdif- 
tinguifhcd  from  the  fonn;r  by  their  idlenefs  alone.  Tu- 
mults, cries,  quarrels,  combats,  a  fiightful  uproar  and 
one  continued  confufron.  This  at  firlt,  was  all  that  J 
could  difccin. 

At  the  beginning  m.y  mind  cuil^racing  too  many  ob- 
jects, could  not  diltinguifh  any  one  of  them.  It  was  not 
icng  before  I  was  lenlible  ot  this,  I  therefore  determined 
to  prefcribe  bounds  to  my  obfervations,and  to  begijiwitlx 
reflecting  on  thofe  objefts  that  were  nearcfl  to  me :  the 
houle  ot  Alon^o  thciefore  is  become  the  centre  of  my 
thoughts.  The  Spaniards,  I  there  fee,  feem  to  befubiecis 
fufEcicnt  to  employ  me  tor  a  long  time  j  and  by  their 
dilpolitions  I  ftiall  be  enabled  to  judge  of  tlx)fe  of  their 
icliow  countiymen.  Alonzo,  who  has  dwelt  a  confide'- 
able  tirr.e  in  our  country,  and  conlirquently  is  convcriaut 

in  our  language  and  culloms,  aids  me  i)i  the  d  Icoveries 

I  woukhnake.  This  fmcere  friend,  iminfcfted  with  the 
prejudices  of  his  countrymen,  freqxiently  points  out  to 
me  the  ridiculous  part  of  their  condu6f .      *  Esrhcld  that 

grave  mun,'  faid  he  to  me,  the  other  day,  *  who  by  his 

<  haughty  mein,  his  curled  rauilachoes,  his  highcrowned 

<  cap  and  numerous  train,  you  would  take  tor  another 

*  Huayna  Capac*  j  but  he  is  a  Cucipatas,  who  has  iworn 

<  toourPachacamac  to  be  humble,  meek,  and  poor.  He 
'  that  you  faw  drink  thofe   large  draughts  or  liquors, 

*  that  have  left  him  fcarce  any  remains  of  realbn,  id  a 

*  judge  j    who  within  an  hour,  is  to  decide  on  the  lives 

*  oi  iortunes  of  a  nusnber  of  citizens.     That  man  you 

<  ice 
*  The  name  of  the  great  co.ngueror  of  Peru. 


THE     PERUVIAN    PRINCESS.  133 

*  fee  who  is  more  amorous  ot  himfelf,  than  of  the  iady 

*  to  whom  he  lecms  to  pay  ib  much  regard  :  he  who  can 

*  icaice  luppoi t  the  heat  ot"  the  weather,  and  of  that 
'  perfumed  habit  which  he  wears  :  who  talks  with  lb. 

*  mv.ch  emotion  on  the  leail  trifle'    whofe  debaucheries 

*  have  lunk  his  eyes,  paled  his  vilage,  and  even  delhoyed 

*  his  voice }  that  is  a  general,    who  is  to  lead  thirty 

*  thoufand  men  to  battle.' 

It  is  thus,  Kanhuiicap,  by  the  aid  of  Alonzo,  that  I 
dlflipate,  for  fome  moments,  the  anxieties  that  coniume 
me.  But,  alas  1  they  loon  return  :  for  the  amuiements 
of  the  mind  mull  for  ever  give  place  to  the  atfecf  ions  of 
the  heart. 

LETTER  VIII. 

To  the  fame:    At.. \  paints  to  kis  friend  tke  ckaracler  of 

Alonzo. 

THE  obferv-ations  which  Aloi>zo  has  enabled  me  to 
make  of  the  chara6lers  of  his  countr>'men,  have  not 
prevented  me  trcm  lomctimes  reflefting  on  his  own. 
Though  I  am  an  admirer  of  the  virtucb  cf  this  fnicere 
friend,  I  do  not  forbear  to  rernark  his  detects.  Wile, 
generous,  and  brave,  he  is  notwithltanding  weak,  z.rA, 
iubject  to  thole  very  follies  he  conde:r.r,:i.  *  Behold  tliat 
'  relpeftable  and  dreadful  wai'rior,'  he  laid,  '  that  Ihm  de- 

*  tendtr  of  our  countiv,  that  man  who  by  a  fingie  glance 

*  of  his  eye  cr^n  make  thou  lands  obey  him  :  yet  he  is  a 
<  llive  in  his  own  houle,  and  iubiectto  every  little  capr.ce 

*  of  his  wife.'  So  does  Alonzo  appear  to  me  when  his; 
daughter  Zulniira  enters.  From  the  imperious  air  the 
cor.ihtntly  atLcis  when  her  father  tenderly  embraces  her, 
J  am  convinced  that  Alonzo  is,  with  regard  to  his  daugh- 
ter, what  the  warrior  is  to  his  wife  ;  and  ao  not  imagine 
that  he  is  the  only  Spaniard  who  does  not  fpare  in  others 
the  faults  of  which  he  is  himlelf  giiiltv-  1  was  walking 
the  otiier  day  in  a  jmblic  garden,  wiiere  I  diifinguilhcd 
among  the  crowd,  a  little -monllei-,  about  the  lize  cf  a 
Vicuna*,  his  legs  were  contorted  like  the  Amarucf  j  nn^ 
his  head  lb  funk  between  his  Ihculders,  that  fcarce  could 

*  A  kind  of  Indian  coar.  -}-  The  audcv  of  the  Indixns. 

"NI  he 


134  THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS, 

he  move  it.  I  could  not  relbain  from  commiferating 
the  lot  of  this  unfortunate  creature,  when  I  was  furpril- 
ed  by  loud  peals  of  laughter.  I  turned  toward  the  part 
from  whence  they  canie.  But  what  was  my  furprife  • 
when  I  found  that  they  were  caufed  by  a  man,  aimoil 
as  derormed  as  the  other,  and  who  was  pointing  out  to 
the  company,  the  dillortions  of  his  brother.  Is  it  pof- 
lible  we  can  be  fo  blind  to  cur  own  faults,  when  we  are 
fo  fcnfible  of  them  in  others  ?  Does  the  excefs  of  virtue 
tlien  become  a  vice  ? 

Alonzo,  though  fubjeft  to  his  daughter,  would  be  in- 
excuiable  not  to  love  her.  The  vivacity  of  her  wit,  the 
beauty  and  tiie  graces  which  the  creator  has  given  her  : 
her  ftately  port,  and  the  tender  language  of  her  eyes,  in 
fpite  of  the  fire  witli  which  they  fparklej  convince  me 
tnat  fire  has  a  heart  fenfible,  but  vainj  that  (lie  is  tender, 
but  impetuous,  even  in  the  moil  trifling  purlliits.  What 
a  diiference,  my  dear  friend,  between  her  and  Zilia! 
Zilia,  who  alm.oll:  infenlible.to  her  beatity,  would  hide  it 
from  every  one  but  her  conqueror :  (lie  who  is  conduced 
by  candour  and  modsAy,  and  whole  heart,  the  pureft  and 
i:n.'"!t  tcr.4cr  love  alone  poifelTes  ;  in  whom  the  movem.ents 
ot  pride  have  no  prace,  who  deipifes  all  the  turns  of  art , 
file  who  knows  of  no  means  to  pleafe  but  by  lovej  flie 
vvlio Ah !  how  fierce  the  flame  that  now  con- 
fumes  my  heart  ?  Zilia  ?  my  beloved  Zilia  !  Shall  I  never 
again  behold  thee  ?  What  can  yet  retard  our  felicity  ? 
Are  the  gods  themfelves  jealous  of  the  happinels  of  a 
mortal  ?  6  my  dear  friend,  if  it  be  to  them  alone  that  be- 
long the  joys  of  love,  why  are  we  made  feniible  to  the 
power  of  beauty?  Or  why,  when  mafttrs  of  our  hearts, 
do  they  fi.fivr  us  to  afpire  after  a  liappinefs,  which  they 
aie  unwilling  we  ihail  poflcfs  ? 

LETTER  IX. 

To  the  fame  :  the  manners  and  cujjoms  of  the  Spaniards 
are  totally  different  in  their  ovja  country  from  ~j:hat  ihey 
are  in  Mexico. 

~WJ^  FHOUT  the  aHlilance  of  the  Spanirti  language, 
*  f      ^.\\z  rcfi-ciioas  which  Alonzo  communicates  to 

me 


THE    PERUVIAN"    PRINCESS.  155 

me  could  not  extend  beyond  certain  bounds,  and  thole 
which  I  made  myfelf  could  be  but  luperficial.  Defirous 
cf  diverting  my  impatience,  I  have  lought  a  mafter  wiio 
could  inftruft  me  in  this  language.  The  intormations 
he  has  given  me,  have  already  enabled  me  to  profit  by 
converfation,  and  examine  more  nearly,  the  genius  and 
tafte  of  a  people  who  feem  to  have  been  created  ibiely  tor 
the  deilrui^lion  of  mankind  ^  ot Whom,  hovi^ever,  they  ap- 
pear to  think  themfelves  the  ornament.  At  fiill  I  ama- 
ginedthat  tliei'c  ambitious  barbarians,  who  employ  them- 
felves in  contriving  miferies  for  nations  of  whom  they  arc 
ignorant ;  drank  nothing  but  blood  :  beheld  the  fun 
through  a  thick  fmoak  only,  and  were  folely  employed 
in  forging  inftruments  of  death:  for  you  know  (as  well 
as  myielf)  that  the  thunder  with  which  they  fmote  us, 
was  fonned  by  them.  I  expected  to  have  foimd  in  their 
cities  nothing  but  makers  of  thunder  :  foldiers  exercifmg 
in  the  ccurfe,  or  combat :  princes  ftained  with  the  blood 
they  had  flied,  and  braving,  in  order  to  enable  them  to 
filed  more,  the  heats  of  the  day,  the  rigours  of  winter, 
fatigue,  and  death  itfclf. 

You  will  eafily  conceive  my  furprlfe,  v/hen  Inftead  of 
that  theatre  of  blood  which  t  had  formed  in  my  imagi- 
nation, I  here  found  the  throne  of  mercy.  This  people^ 
who,  I  believe,  are  cruel  towards  us  only,  appear  to  be 
governed  by  benevolence.  The  inhabitants  leem  to  be 
united  by  a  clofe  friendlhip.  They  never  meet  without 
giving  marks  of  efteem,  am.ity,  and  even  refpecf .  Thefe 
fentiments  fparkle  in  their  eyes,  and  govern  their  bodies^ 
They  bow  down  before  each  other.  In  a  word,  by  their 
continual  embraces,  they  appear  to  be  ra'her  one  family, 
happily  united,  than  a  colle6fion  of  people.  Thofe  war- 
riors, who  to  us  appeared  fo  formidable,  are  here  no  other 
than  old  men,  who  are  ftill  more  amiable  than  the  red  ? 
or  youths,  gay,  gentle  and  officious  to  pleafe.  That  ur- 
banity which  governs  them,  that  eafe  with  v/hich  they 
perfoiTn  all  actions,  thofe  pleafures  which  are  their  only 
iludico,  and  thofe  fentiments  of  humanity  which  they 
*        Mi  diicoverj^ 


i'jS  THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS, 

dilcover,  induces  me  to  think  that  they  have  two  foul?, 
one  for  fociety,  the  other  for  war. 

In  hR,  what  a  difference  !  You  have  foen  them,  my 
friend,  bring  within  our  walls  dcfolation,  horror,  and 
death.  The  groans  of  our  women  expiring  by  their 
wounds  ;  tlie  venerable  age  of  our  fathers,  t!ie  piercing 
cries  fent  forth  by  the  tender  organs  of  our  children, 
the  majelly  ofour  temples,  the  facreii  awe  that  funounds 
them  5  all  things  ferved  to  augment  their  barbarity. 

And  now  I  behold  them  adoring  thofe  virtues  they 
then  deifroyed  •.  giving  honour  to  age:  Itretching  forth 
a  benignant  hand  to  infancvj  and  venerating  the  temples 
they  profaned  j  can  thefe  therefore  be  the  faine  men  ? 

LETTER  X* 
To  the  farm  :  K'Lx"^  reflections  on  the  di'verfity  cf  tajle 
among  the  Spaniards. 

THE  more  I  reflect  on  the  variety  of  difpofitions  a- 
mo]i.g  the  Spaniards,  the  lefs  able  am  I  to  deter- 
mine the  principle  from  whence  they  proceed.  This  na- 
tion feems  to  have  but  one  that  is  general,  and  it  is  that 
which  leads  to  idlenels.  There  is  here,  however,  a  dl- 
vinitv  that  nearly  refembles  it,  and  this  is  called  Tafte. 
A  large  felecl  number  of  adorers  facrifice  all  things  to 
tiiis ;  even  their  tranquillity.  There  is,  however,  a  par- 
ty (and  that  party  is  the  moft  fjncere)  who  acknowledge 
that  they  know  not  who  this  divinity  is.  The  others, 
more  preluming,  give  definitions  of  it,  which  are  as  un- 
intelligible to  tliemfelves  as  to  the  reft  of  mankind.  Ac- 
cording to  manv,  it  is  a  divinity  that  is  not  the  lefs  real 
for  bein^  invifible.  Every  one  ought  to  feel  its  infplra- 
tions.  We  are  to  agree  with  the  fculpture,  that  it  is  con- 
cealed \mder  a  figure  of  a  hideous  fiiapc,  which  appears 
to  flutter  with  the  two  wings  of  a  hat,  and  which  an  in- 
fant holds  elegantly  en&haij-ied  with  a  garland  offlowers. 
One  of  thoie  fort^^f  men,  whom  they  call  here  petit  mai- 
trts,  will  oblige  you  to  believethat  this  divinity  is  to  be 
found  in  his  waillcoat,  and  not  in  that  of  his  companion, 
and  the  proof  he  brings  (wliich  you  cannot  refute)  is  that 
the  button  holes  of  his  wailtcoat  art  either  greater  or  lels 
than  thofe  ot  the  other.  Som';; 


\ 


THE    PERtrVlAK   PRINCESS.  137 

Some  daj'S  fince  I  faw  an  edifice  of  which  I  had  heard 
very  unintelligible  accounts.  When  I  approached  it, 
1  found  at  the  gate  two  troops  of  Spaniards,  who  feemed 
to  be  at  open  war  with  each  other.  I  alked  of  one  who 
accompanied  me,  what  was  the  caule  of  their  contention. 

*  It  is,' he  replied,  '  a  matter  of  great  confequence.  They 

*  are  about  to  determine  the  reputation  of  this  teir.ple,  and 

*  the  ranks  it  ihall  hold  with  pofterity.     Thefe  people  you 

*  here  fee  are  connoifleurs.  The  one  fide  afTerts,  that  it  is 

*  a  mere  heap  of  ftones,  remarkable   for  noihing  but  its 

*  enormity.    The  other  maintains  that  it  is  by  no  ineans 

*  enormous,  but  is  conftru6led  intruetafte.' 

Leaving  thefe  connoifleurs,  I  entered  the  temple.  I 
had  gone  but  a  few  paces,  when  I  faw  painted  againft 
the  wall,  the  figure  oi  a  venerable  old  man,  the  ferenity 
and  dignity  of  whole  features  infpired  reCpeil.  He  ap- 
peared to  be  borne  upon  the  winds,  and  was  furroundtd 
by  winged  infants  whofe  eyes  were  directed  to  the  earth. 

*  Whom  does  that  pi6ture  repreicntr'  I  faid.  *  It  is,' 
replied  an  old  Cucipatas,  after  feveral  inclinations  of  his 
body,  '  the  reprefentation  of  the  Lord  of  the  univerie, 

*  who  by  the  breath  of  his  noftriis,  produced  all  things 

*  out  of  nothing.  But  have  you  examined,'  he  cricrd 
with  precipitation,  *  thofe  precious  ftones  which  cover 

*  this  altar?'  He  had  fcarce  finifned  thofe  words,  when 
the  beauty  of  one  of  thoie  diamonds  had  ftruck  me.  It 
reprefented  a  man  whole  head  vv'as  incircledwith  laurels. 
I  immediately  afxed  who  the  man  was,  that  had  merited 
a  place  by  the  fide  of  the  Creator.  *  It  is,'  replied  the 
Cucipatas  with  a  fmile,  *  the  head  of  the  moft  cruel  and 

*  molt  defpicable  prince  that  ever  exilted .'  That  aniwer 
threw  me  into  a  feries  of  reflections  which  the  vaist  of 
expreffions  prevents  me  from  cummunicating.  Wiien  I 
had  recovered  from  my  firftaftonifliment,  with  relpc<5tful 
fleps  I  was  quitting  the  temple,  vv'hen  another  object 
ftruck  me.  In  anobfcure  place  I  dilcovered,  amidft  the 
tlufl,  the  head  of  an  old  man  who  had  neither  tiiemajefly 
nor  the  benignity  of  the  other.  But  vvhat  was  my  afto- 
niilimentj  when  they  would  have  perfuaded  mc  that  it 

M  ,5  was 


15?  THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS, 

was  the  portrait  of  the  fam€  divinity,  the  Creator  of  all 
things.  The  little  refpeil  which  the  CucipatAS  appeared 
to  have  for  this  head  prevented  me  from  believing  it,  and 
I  came  away,  offended  with  the impofit ion.  Forinfafl, 
T/hat  appearance  is  there,  Kanhuifcap,  that  the  fame 
men,  in  the  fame  place,  fhould  adore  a  God,  and  tread 
him  under  their  feet. 

This  is  not  the  only  contradi6lIon  that  is  to  he  foimd 
among  the  Spaniards.  Nothing  is  more  common  than 
thoie  inconfiftences  which  time  produces  in  this  country. 
Why  do  they  deffroy  that  palace,  whofe  folidity  pro- 
miles  at  Icalf  another  century  of  duration  ?  *  Becaule,' 
they  reply,     <  it  is  not  in  tafte.     When  firfl:  ereoled,  it 

*  was  confidered  as  a  chef-dceii^vre^  and  was  built  at  a 

*  great  cxpence.    But  in  thei'e  days  it  appears  ridiculous.' 
Though  this  nation  is  fonnich  a  Have  to  tiiis  pretended 

tafte,  yet  it  is  not  necellary  that  every  particular  perfon 
have  it.  There  are  here  people  of  talf  e,  wiio  I'ell  it  dearly 
to  thofe  who  by  caprice  imagine  them  to  be  in  poflcririon 
of  it.  Alonzo  made  me  remark,  tlie  other  day,  one  of 
thofe  men  who  have  the  reputation  of  drefiing  themfelves 
vith  a  certain  elegance,  in  which,  according  to  him,  they 
place  great  merit.  As  a  contrail  to  that  man,  he  fhewed 
me  at  the  fame  time  another  who  was  regarded  as  having 
iio  tafte.  I  am  unable  to  decide  between  them,  ileing 
the  public,  before  whom  they  appear,  agrees  in  laugiiing 
at  both  of  them.  From  whence  the  only  real  diiference 
t'hat  I  can  dil'cover  between  him  who  has  tafte,  and  them 
who  hav'e  none,  is,  that  they  both  depart  trom  ilature, 
Imt  by  different  ways  ;  and  that  the  God  they  call  talfe, 
fixe  >  his  abode  fometimes  at  the  end  of  one  of  thele  paths, 
and  fometim.es  at  that  of  the  other.  Unhappy  therefore 
is  tile  man  who  takes  the  wrong  path ;  he  is  dilgraced  and 
deipiled  ;  till  the  God,  changing  his  abode  at  the  moment 
he  ieaft  thinks  of  it,  puts  it  in  his  power,  to  treat  others 
with  equal  feverity. 

Hov/ever,  Kanhuifcap,  if  you  will  believe  the  Spani- 
ards, nothing  is  m.ore  invariable  than  tafte,  and  the  reaion 
cr  its  liaving  lb  oft^ii  changed,  ia  becaufe  iheii- anceftors 

v.- ere 


THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS.  139 

were  ignorant  of  that  in  which  it  truly  confifts.  But 
much  I  fear  that  the  fame  reproach  will  be  made  by  their 
atert  pofterity. 

LETTER  XI. 
To  the  fa?n€ :  Aza  continues  his  rejiecl'ions  on  the  'vices 
of  the  Spaniards. 

CAN  I  exprefs  my  furpriie,  Kanhuifcap,  when  I 
find  that  in  this  country,  which  I  imagined  to 
have  been  inhabited  by  virtue  itfelf,  that  it  is  only  by 
force  that  men  are  here  virtuous.  It  is  the  fear'ot" 
puniHiment  and  of  death,  that  alone  infpire  men  here 
with  thofe  fentinients  that  I  thought  nature  had  engraved 
in  their  hearts.  There  are,  in  this  country,  whole  o- 
iutnes,  which  are  filled  with  the  prohibitions  of  vice. 
There  is  no  crime  fo  horrid  but  v/hat  has  here  its  pro- 
per punilhment  afligned  it ;  nay,  that  has  not  an  exam- 
ple. In  fact,  it  was  not  lb  much  a  wik  precaution,  as 
the  models  of  vices,  that  have  diftated  the  decrees  by 
which  they  are  prohibited.  To  judge  bv  thei'e  laws, 
what  crimes  are  there  that  the  Spaniards  have  not  com- 
mitted ?  They  have  a  God,  and  have  blalphemed  him ; 
a  king  and  have  rebelled  againll  him  j  a  faith  which 
they  have  violated.  They  love  and  refpecl,  yet  murder 
each  other.  They  are  friends,  yet  betray;  they  are 
united  by  religion,  yet  detelt  their  brethren.  Where 
tjien,  I  am  continually  afKing  mvfelf,  is  that  unioa 
which  I  at  firlt  remarked  among  tiiis  people  ?  That  pleaf- 
ing  chain  by  which  friendiliip  leemedto  have  united  their 
hearts?  Caa  I  imagine  that  it  was  "formed  of  nothing 
but  fear  or  intercil  ?  But  what  I  lijid  molt  aftojiifliing, 
is  the  continuance  of  theie  laws.  What  ?  can  a  people 
wno  have  violated  the  moil  facred  laws  of  nature,  and 
have  itifled  her  voice,  futfcr  themfelves  to  be  governed 
by  the  feeble  voice  of  their  anceltors  1  Can  this  people, 
like  their  Hamas,  open  the  mouth  to  a  bit,  w-hich  is  ct- 
fered  tnem  by  a  man  whofe  equal  they  have  already  de- 
ifroyed  '  Ah  1  Kanhuifcap,  how  unhappy  is  th9rprir,ce 
who  reigns  over  iuc;\  a  pecplj  1  Hov.' many  ihares  hai 
iji  to  iivoid  *  If  he  vrould  prelerve  his  autl.ority,  he  mutt 

b« 


T40  THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS.^ 

be  virtuous  ;  yet  he  has  conftantly  vice  before  his  evesTf 
Perjury  Ib.rrounds  him  }  Pride  goes  before  him;  Per- 
fidy, with  downcalc  looks,  follows  his  footfteps  ;  and 
never  can  he  behold  Truth,  but  by  the  falfe  glare  of  the 
torch  of  Envy. 

Such  is  the  truepi<5lurc  of  that  tlirong  which  furrounds 
the  piince,  and  which  they  call  the  court.  The  nearer 
we  approach  the  throne,  the  further  we  recede  from  vir- 
tue. We  there  fee  a  vile  flatterer  by  the  fide  of  the  de- 
fender of  his  country  ;  a  buffoon  linked  with  the  moll 
conlinnmate  minifter;  Pcrjurv,  efcaped  from  its  jufi: 
punifliment,  there  ufurps  the  rank  of  Probity .  Yet  from 
the  midft  of  this  crowd  of  crimin  Is  it  is,  that  the  king 
pronounces  julf  ice.  There  it  fhould  leem  as  if  the  laws 
are  only  taught  by  thole  who  are  the  violators.  The 
judgmtnt  that  condenms  one  criminal,  is  frequently  fign- 
ed  hy  another.  For  hew  rigorous  foever  thsfe  laws  may 
be,  they  are  not  made  for  every  one.  In  the  clofet  of 
the  judge,  a  fine  woman  in  tears  falling  at  his  feet ;  or  a 
nvn  who  brings  with  him  a  confiderable  quantity  of  pieces 
ot  gold}  eafily  exculpates  the  mcft  atrocious  criminal, 
while  the  innocent  expire  in  tortures.  O  Kanhuifcap  ! 
how  happy  are  the  children  of  the  Sun,  who  are  guided 
by  rectitude  alone  !  Ignorant  of  vice,  they  fear  no  punifli- 
ment  J  and  as  Virtue  is  their  judge,  Nature  is  their  law. 
LETTER  XII. 
To  tBe  fame:,  coniinuatio/i  cf  the  fame  fuhjed. 

IT  rarely  happens,  that  the  firlt  point  of  view  from 
which  we  b^iiold  any  objeft,  is  that  from  which  it 
appears  in  the  truelt  light.  What  difference,  Kmhu- 
ifcap,  between  this  people,  and  thofe  t  thought  Ifirltfaw. 
All  their  virtue  is  nothing  but  a  flender  veil,  through 
which  we  diftinguidi  the  features  of  thofe  who  would 
icrcen  themlclves  from  our  view.  Under  the  dazzling 
eclat  of  the  moft  virtuous  alliens,  you  may  conftantly 
difccrn  the  feeds  of  feme  vice.  Like  the  rays  of  the  Iuit, 
which,  while  they  f.-emto  give  a  li-.ftre  to  the  colour  of 
tiiCrofc,  difcoverthe  thonvs^that  are  hid  beneath  it.  An 
i).'i'ij|>portaDlc  pride  is  the  fource  of  that  amiable  union 

with 


THE    PERUVIAN    PRIN'CESS.  14.X 

v.-lth  which  I  was  at  firft  ib  highly  charmed.  The  len- 
der embrace,  theafrefted  refptci,  proceed  from  th"  lame 
fource.  The  lead  infl'^6tion  ot  the  body  is  here  regarded 
as  an  ackjiowledgment  that  is  due  to  rank  or  ftiendfliip. 
The  moll  deteilable  clvaiafters  in  the  nation,  and  they 
who  have  the  greateft  averllon,  DUitually  render  each 
other  this  falle  homage.  A  great  man  pafes  r.y  you, 
and  uncovers  his  head ;  that  is  an  honour :  h-  Irniles 
upon  you  j  that  is  a  favour.  But  it  is  not  remembered, 
that  the  purchafe  of  this  honourable  falu*:e,  and  of  this 
flattering  fmile,  is  attended,  with  a  thoufand  fubmilHons 
and  mortifications.  To  fpeak  more  iuftly,  in  oider  to 
obtain  thefe  honours,  it  is  neced'ary  to  becon>e  a  {lave. 

Pride  has  ftilj  another  veil,  and  that  is  gravity :  that 
varnifli  which  gives  an  air  of  reafon  to  the  molt  fenfe- 
lefs  actions.  He  who,  tlibough  pofleffed  of  great  wit  and 
fenfe,  is  regarded  as  a  fool,  would  have  been  held  in  the 
highefirelleera,  thoiigh  totally  dfellitute  of  boththofeac- 
complifhments,  if  he  had  but  concealed  his  love  of  plea- 
fure.  To  be  wife  is  nothing  j  the  only  thing  neceffary  is 
to  appear  fo. 

'  That  man,  whofefagacityand  accompliftimentscor- 

*  refpond  with  the  benignity  of  his  countenance,'  faid 
Alonxo  the  other  day  j  *  that  man  of  an  almoft  univerfal 

*  genius,  has  been  excluded  from  the  moft  important  em- 

*  ployir^nts,  for  having  once  laughed  inconfiderately  I* 
You  will  not,  therefore,  be  furprifed,  Kanhuifcap,  that 
they  here  pcrfomi  actions  in  themfelves  the  moll  fottilh, 
with  the  utraoft  tblemnity.  This  affected  gravity,  how- 
ever, makes  no  great  Impreflion  on  me.  1  perceive  the 
pride  of  him  by  whom  it  is  ufed,  and  the  more  he  ef- 
teems  himfeif,  the  more  I  defpile  him.  Are  merit  and 
mirth  by  nature  antipathies  ?  No  ;  for  reafon  never  fuf- 
fers  by  thofe  pleafiires  which  the  mind  alone  enjoys, 

LETTER  Xni. 
To  the  fame.     hJ-.^dejaihei  his  embarrajfment  andim- 
perfect  ideas  concerningthi  dodrines  of  the  Chrijnan  religion. 

I  CANNOT  avoid  again  repeating  to  you,  Kanhuif- 
cap, that  there  feeins  to  me  to  be  fonvrthing  unde- 

fineablc 


14*  THE    PERL^VIAN    PRINCESS, 

fineable  in  the  charaeler  of  the  Spaniards.  Every  daj 
prcduces  fome  trefli  contradiction .  What  do  you  think, 
for  example,  of  the  following  ?  This  people  have  a  di- 
vinity vvliom  they  adore*  :  but  far  from  making  him  any 
offerings,  it  is  their  God  who  nourifhes  them.  You 
fe*  in  their  temples  no  Curaccasf ,  as  iymbcls  of  their 
v^'antp.  In  a  word,  there  arc  certain  times  of  the  day, 
when  ycu  would  take  thefe  temples  for  deferttd  palaces. 
Certain  ancient  women,  however,  remain  there  al- 
iroft  thewhtle  day.  The  air  of  devotion  which  they  af- 
fe6f,  and  the  tears  which  they  fhed,  ?.ttra6lect  at  nrft  my 
regard  ;  and  the  difdam  with  which  they  were  treated, 
excited  my  compaffion  ;  till  I  was  undeceived  by  Alonzo. 
'  Thofe  women,'  laid  he,  *  who  have  acquired  youref- 
'  teem,  are  but  little  known  to  you.     One  of  thofe  you 

•  fee  is  paid  by  proftitutes,  to  procure  them  traffic   for 

*  their  charms.     That  other  faciifices  her  fortune  and 
'  her  repofe  to  the  deftmction  of  her  family.' 

Ur;nat\iral  mothers  trulf  their  children  to  thofe  they 
would  not  tiulf  a  trifling  jewel,  in  o,-der  to  come  here 
and  adore  a  God,  who,  according  to  their  own  confef- 
flon,  has  given  them  no  flronger  commandment  than 
that  of  properly  ed\!cating  thofe  children.  Others,  hav- 
ing forlaken  the  pkafures  of  the  world  becauie  they  c?.n 
ro  longer  enjoy  them,  here  make  a  virtue  of  depreciating 
vices  which  they  have  obfen'ed  in  other  finners. 

How  difficult  are  thefe  barbarous  nations,  Kanhuif- 
cap,  to  reconcile  with  themfelves.  Their  religion  is  not 
more  difficult  to  reconcile  with  that  of  nature.  They 
acknowledge  with  us  a  God,  the  creator,  who  differs, 
it  is  true,  frcrri  ours,  as  he  is  entiiely  a  pure  fubffancej 
or  to  fpeak  more  properly,  an  affemblage  of  all  perfections . 
No  limats  can  be  pielcribed  to  his  power  j  his  being  can 

luffer 

*  We  muft  remember  here,  that  it  is  a  Peruvian  who  fpeaks^ 
and  one  who  has  but  a  very  impertcd:  notion  of  our  rejiglon, 

■f  Thefe  Curaccas  v/ere  ftatues  of  different  metals,  and  in  dif- 
fcvent  habi's,  which  they  placed  in  their  temples  5  and  were  a 
{or t  cf  ex  voto,  ta  exprels  the  feveral  wants  of  thofe  thatoffevad 
them. 


THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS.'  143 

iviffcr  no  variation.  Wilclom,  jultice,  and  mercy,  om- 
nipotence and  immutability,  ccmpolehiscficnce.  This 
God  has  ever  cxilted,  and  for  ever  will  exift.  Such  is 
the  definition  which  one  cf  the  Cucipatas  of  this  em- 
pire have  given  me :  for  they  are  ignorant  of  nothing 
that  has  happened  fmce,  nor  even  before  the  creation  of 
the  world.  It  was  this  God  who  placed  mankind  upon 
the  earth,  as  in  a  garden  of  pleafure :  but  they  were 
foon  plunged  into  an  abyis  of  pains  and  miferiesj  after 
which  they  were  deftroyed.  One  man,  however,  was 
exempted  from  this  general  deftruft ion,  and  re-peopled 
the  earth  ;  with  men  llill  more  wicked  than  the  fonner. 
Gou,  notwithlianding,  tar  from  punifhing  them,  chofe 
from  among  them  a  certain  number,  to  whcmhedidated 
his  laws,  and  promilcd  to  lend  his  Son.  But  this  un- 
grateful people,  forgetting  ihe  goodnefs  of  God,  facri- 
liced  his  Son,  the  moil  dear  pledge  of  his  paternal  ten- 
dernefs-  Rendered  by  this  crime  the  objeft  of  God's 
hatred,  that  nation  was  vifited  by  his  vengeance.  Wan. 
dering  inccffantly  from  country  to  country,  the  whole 
univeiie  was  a  witnels  of  their  chaftilement.  It  was  on 
ether  men,  until  that  time  lels  worthy  of  the  divine  favour, 
that  the  Son,  fo  long  promifcd ,  bellowed  his  munificence. 
It  was  for  them  that  he  inftituted  new  laws,  which  dif- 
fered but  in  a  fev/  things  from  thofe  that  were  before. 

Such,  my  fag^aci^-us  triend,  was  the  conduit  of  their 
God  towards  mankind.  Now,  how  will  you  reconcile 
this  with  his  cffence*  ?  He  is  almighty  and  immutable. 
He  created  thefe  people  to  make  them  happy  3  and  yet 
they  were  not  i-endercd  by  any  means  free  from  the  infirmi- 
ties of  human  nature.  He  would  have  them  happy,  yet 
their  laws  forbid  them  thai  pleafure  which  he  made  for 
them,  as  thtji^or  pleafure.  He  is  jull,  and  does  not  pun- 
iih  in  the  children  thofe  crimes  which  he  has  fo  leverely 
punifhed  in  the  fathers.  He  is  merciful,  andhis  clemen- 
cy is  not  focner  exhaulted  than  his  leverity.  Periuaded 
as  they  are  of  the  goodnefs,  wifdom,  and  power  of  God, 

you 
*  We  fhall  ftill  remember,  that  k  is  an  unlearned  P«n»vi2n. 
:.o  fccaka. 


144  1HE    PERVVIAN    PRINCESS, 

you  will  perhaps  iinagine,  Karhuiicap,  that  the  Spani- 
ards are  faithful  to  his  laws,  and  follow  them  with  pre- 
cifiion:  but  if  ycm  think  lb,  vour  error  is  great.  Aban- 
doned IncefTantly,  and  without  rei'erve,  to  vices  prohibi- 
ted by  his  laws,  they  prove,  that  either  the  julticeof  God 
is  not  fufficiently  levere  j  that  he  does  not  punifh  thole 
aftions  which  he  forbids:  or  that  his  laws  are  too  rigid, 
as  they  prohibit  thofe  a6tions  which  his  goodnels  pre- 
vents him  from  punilhlns;. 

LETTER  XIV. 
To  the  fame:  ZiLiA  is  continually  pnfent  to  the  mind 
of  AzA,  in  the  miJji  of  all  his  refiehions.     An  account  of 
the  intrigues  and  hjpccrify  of  the  Spanijh  -a:omen. 

PERHAPS  you  may  iiave  thought,  my  faithful  friend, 
that  foftencd  by  time,  the  impatience  which  devour- 
ed my  heart  began  to  be  exhauftcd.  I  pardon  thy  errorj 
for  I  mylelf  have  been  the  caufe  of  it.  The  rcfleiSf  ions 
you  have  ken  me  give  myfelf  up  to,  for  fome  time  paft, 
could  not  proceed,  as  you  thought,  but  from  a  heart 
that  was  at  eale.  No  longer  perfiit  in  an  error  that  is 
injurious  to  me.  Impatience  frequently  borrows  from 
a  fccming  tranquillity  the  moft  cniel  arms.  This  I  have 
but  too  much  txperienced.  My  mind  contemplated  with 
a  wandering  eye,  the  different  ob;e6^ts  that  preiented  them  - 
ielves :  my  heart  was  not  the  lefb  devoured  by  impatience. 
Conllantly  prefenttomy  fight,  Zilia  perpetuated  my  anx- 
iety, even  in  thofe  moments  when  my  philofophy  feemed 
to  you  to  llcure  my  tranquillity.  Ao  application  to  the 
fciences  may  divert,  but  it  can  never  make  us  forget  our 
palTions  :  and  even  if  it  had  that  power,  what  could  it 
tife^l  on  an  inclination  that  is  founded  on  reason.  My 
love,  you  know,  is  not  one  of  thofe  tranfient  vapours, 
which  raifed  by  caprice,  are  ibon  dillipated.  Realbn,  that 
taught  me  to  kriOw  my  heart,  told  me  that  it  was  matie 
tor  love.  It  was  by  the  light  of  his  torch  I  firlt  per- 
ceived I  loved.  Could  I  refrain  from  following  his  Ifeps  ? 
He  fliowcd  me  beauty  in  the  eyes  of  Zilia  :  he  made  me 
'eel  its  power,  herclianns,  and  my  felicitv  :  and  lar ficui 
c]^.poling  ir.y  happindV,  rv'av-n  taught  me  that  it  fre- 

ijuju  iv 


THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS.  T4.5 

cntly  alojie  confided  in  the  art  or  raifing  and  prelerv- 
ino;   plealures.     You  will  judge  then,  Kanhuiicap,  if 
philoibphy  has  been  able  to  diminlfh  my  love.     The  re- 
ilcftions  I  have  made  on  the  Sponifh  women  cannot  but 
increafe  it.     That  great  defparity  of  virtue,  of  beauty 
and  fentiment,  which  I  have  remarked  between  them  and. 
Zilia,  makes  me  more  fenlibleot  my  raifery  in  being  fe-    / 
parated  from  her.  That  pure  candour,  that  amiable  free- 
dom, thofe  fort  tranfports  in  which  her  foul  delights,  are 
here  mere  veils  to  cover  licenticufnefs  and  perfidy.     To 
conceal  the  moft  ardent  pafTion,  in  order  to  difplay  one 
that  they  do  not  feel,  far  from  being  punifhed  as  a  vice, 
is  here  regaided  as  an  accompliflim^nt.     To  attempt  to 
pleafe  any  particular  perfon  is  a  crime ;  not  to  pleaie  ail 
is  a  dil'grace.     Such  are  the  principles  of  Virtue  that 
they  here  engrave  on  the  hearts  of  their  women.     When 
any  one  of  them  has  thehappinefs,  if  it  be  a  happinefs, 
to  be  efteemed  beautiful,  fhe  mult  prepare  to  receive  tlie 
homage  of  a  crowd  of  adorers,  whofe  woi-fhip  fne  is  to 
I'r  .vard,  by  at  leaft  one  glance  of  the  eye  eacii  day.  When 
a  woman  of  this  fort  is  what  they  call  a  coquette,  the 
firft  ftep  flie  takes  is  to  find  out  among  the  crowd,  him 
who  is  the  molt  opulent.     This  difcovery  being  made, 
all  her  actions,  ail  her  arts  tend  to  captivate  him:  fhe 
fucceeds,  and  marries  him  :  then  fhe  confults  her  heart. 
Her   beauty   now  is  employed  to  another  purpofe ;  flie 
^oesdaily  to  the  temples,  and  to  the  public  places  :  there, 
through  a  veil  that  prevents  her  bluflies,  fhe  regards, 
with  a  fteady   eye,  the  faithful  troop  that  pa£es  before 
her.     Alvajez  and  Pedro  foon  divide  her  heart.     She 
balances  between  them,  and  decides  for  the  former  j  but 
£(-ncealing  her  choice  from  both,  L-aves  them  to  hgh. 
Without  difconraging Pedro,  five  makes  Alvaiez  happy : 
grows  tired  of  him,  and  returns  to  Pedro,  v/hcsm  ilie 
fcon  abandons  for  another.     This  is  not  the  moft  dilH- 
cuit  of  her  enterprizes.     She  is  to  perfuade  all  the  world 
tliat  flie  loves  her  hufband,  and  to  convince  him  of  his 
happinefs,  in  having   a  wife  who  fcrupuloufly  perfoms 
her  duty.  The  public  has  alio  a  duty  to  pciibnn,  vvhich  it 
N  '  does 


14$  THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS, 

does  with  great  punclualuy  j  and  th:it  is  to  reiiiindthe  huf-, 
band  that  ae  lb  married  to  a  fine  woman.  Thcie  contagious 
examples  appear  to  haveex:cndcdeven  to  Zulmira,  v/hofe 
heart  they  have  iniected .  I  think  I  diicover,  that  though 
yet  a  cliiid,  <he  is  pofTeiled  wiih  Lhe  dangerous  pafhun 
ot  dcfiring  to  pleafe.  E-ery  trifling  action,  her  moil 
indifferent  legaids,  haveconitantly  icmething  thatfcems 
to  come  trom  the  heart.  Her  flattering  dliconrfes,  iicr 
exprcflive  locks,  tlie  aifcclmg  tone  or  her  voice,  which 
is  frequently  loft  in  tender  hglis,  all  declare  it.  Tims 
it  is,  Kanuuiicap,  that  by  dilfeient  arts.  Virtue  here 
has  trequently  the  outward  appearance  of  Vice,  while 
Vice  is  concealed  under  the  malk  or  Virtue. 
LETrER  XV. 
To  the  fame:  Aza,  better  injhu^ed  in  the  nature  of 
the  Jiars,  and  oj  tbunderj  is  di'vcjied  of  tbe  ancient  pre- 
jiuiiLtJ  cfhis  nation. 

O  THAT  truth  at  which  I  am  flill  aftonhhed !  O 
amazing  depth  of  knowledge !  Kanhuiiiraj),  the 
fun,  that  ma  Iter- piece  of  nature,  the  earth,  the  prolific 
fea,  are  not  Gods.  A  Creator  different  from  ouis  h^s 
produced  them;  and  by  afinglelookhecandeflroythem. 
From  the  iXiidft  of  a  vail  chaus,  enveloped  by  lifelels 
matter,  from  the  bofomcf  confuficn,  he  called  forth  the 
reipicndciit  (tars,  and  the  people  who  adore  them.  To 
every  part  of  matter  he  gave  a  produ6live  virtue.  The 
fun,  at  hiii  voice,  poured  forth  its  light;  the  Moon  re- 
ceived its  rays,  and  tranfmitted  them  to  us.  Theeirtii 
produced,  and  nouriflied  by  Ils  juices,  thofe  trees,  tliole 
animals  which  we  adore.  The  fea,  v/hom  a  God  alone 
could  rule,  affords  us  ilillenance  by  the  fifnes  it  cov;tains  : 
iijKl  man,  creaicd  nuilter  of  the  univtrfe,  reigns  overall 
other  creatures.  It  was  the  ignorance  of  thole  myitcries, 
my  dear  friend,  that  has  c.uiied  all  our  misfortunes, 
Had  we  been  inllrucled,  like  t'iie  Spaniards,  in  the  fe- 
cjvts  of  nature,  v/e  'houid  have  known,  that  the  thun- 
der they  darted  on  us  was  nothing  but  a  mafs  of  ^-natter 
y/hich  IS  to  be  found  in  our  own  ccuntiy :  that  "Valpor, 
him!eif,  that   terrible  God,  is   no  more  than  a  vapoui" 

wh-ch 


THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS.  I47 

^hich  the  earth  produces,  and  whole  courfe  is  directed 
by  chance :  that  thole  furious  Hamas,  which  fly  before 
lis,  we  might  make  iiiblervient  to  our  uiV:  had  we 
known  theie  things,  could  we  have  cahnly  reflei^ed  en 
the  dignity  of  oiu:  anc^ltors,  and  fuffcred  ourielves  to 
ierv'e  as  a  triumph  to  thsic  barbarians  !  In  eitccl,  Kan- 
huifcap,  it  Items  as  if  na.ture  itood  full  expofed  bctoi  e 
their  eyes.  Her  moll  lecret  actions  are  known  tothera. 
They  difcover  .vhat  is  doing  in  the  highell  heavens,  and 
in  the  moll  profound  abyfs.  It  feems,  moreover,  as  if 
it  were  no  longer  in  the  power  of  nature  to  change  what 
thev  have  once  foreieen. 

LETTER  XVI, 
To  the  fame :  account  of  the  kypo  critic  and  p.perfutions 
practices  in  religion  among  the  iipamards.     ^judia'ji.sre- 
fieCiions  of  At,  a  on  the  Auto  da  Fi. 

COULD  I  have  imagined,  Kanhuifcap,  that  this 
people,  who  feem  to  enjoy  the  light  of  realbn  in 
itb  liighcfl  perle6ficn,  fiiculd  be  flaves  to  the  opinions  of 
their  anceltois  ?  How  f.die  foever  it  may  be,  a  notion 
once  received  jmuft  here  be  conftantly  followed  :  it  can- 
not be  controverted  without  a  rifk  of  being  taxed,  at 
lead,  with  fmgularity.  The  judgment  of  nature,  her 
voice  fo  diilincl,  wliich  v/e  inceiiantly  hear,  is  drown- 
ed ;  her  blazing  torch  is  exiinguiflied  by  prejudice:  a 
tyrant,  who,  though  hated,  is  nevertheiels  powerful ; 
a  cheat,  who,  though  well  krown,  is,  not'.vlthilandirig, 
dangerous.  This  tyrant,  however,  might  ealily  be 
oveicome,  if  he  were  not  alliea  with  one  lliil  more  po- 
tent than  himfelf  j  that  is,  fuperftiticn.  It  is  by  th:s 
falfe  light  that  nioft  men  arc  here  guided,  ana  wh.ch 
makes  them  miltakc  fabuLus  accounts  for  real  matters 
of  jracl.  A  rrian  who  frequents  the  temples  feverai  times 
a  day,  who  appears  witii  an  hypocritical  and  diitorted 
countenance,  wiiac  vice  foever  he  may  be  a  flave  to,  or 
whatever  crimes  he  may  commit,  wiii  be  generally  cf- 
teemed  5  while  the  moft  virtuous,  if  he  throw  off  tl.e 
yoke  of  prejudice,  w.U  be  treated  with  contempt.  The 
min  void  ot  prejudice,  is  here  laid  to   be  void^of  pkty. 

N2  it 


142  THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS, 

It  is  not  fufficient  to  be  what  is  called  wife  ;  to  this  muil 
be  added  the  title  ot  devout,  or  elfe  you  miul:  expeft  that 
of  profligate.  The  difpenfers  of  the  public  eileem,  liioie 
men  who  are  fo  defpicabie  in  themfelves,  vvill  never  ad- 
mit of  an  intermediate  clafs.  To  be  neither  devout  nor 
libertine,  is  to  them  a  paradox.  Such  a  man  appears  to 
their  deluded  fight  like  an  amphibious  monfler.  The 
Spaniards  have  two  divinities,  one  who  prefides  over 
virtue,  and  the  other  over  vice.  If  v/ithout  affeftatlon 
you  content  yourfelf  with  facrificing  to  the  former  only, 
you  will  foon  be  taxed  with  being  a  worfliipper  of  the 
latter.  The  empire  of  virtue  is  by  no  means  abfolute  j 
its  fubje.^ls  have  much  to  fear  from  the  divinity  of  vice. 
They  are  conftantly  obliged  to  appear  in  public  with 
arms  proper  to  encounter  him,  and  with  which,  how- 
ever, they  are  not  always  able  to  defend  themfelves. 
They  leized,  the  other  dviy,  a  man  who  had  committed 
many  crimes,  and  they  publicly  declared  that  the  devil 
muft  have  led  them  to  that  excefs  of  abomination.  He 
had,  however,  about  his  neck  a  fort  of  cord  that  had 
been  confecrated  by  the  Cucipatas  of  the  God  of  Virtue. 
In  one  hand  he  held  another  cord,  on  which  were  ftrung 
a  number  of  beads,  that  had  the  power  of  driving  away 
the  author  of  his  crimes  ;  and  in  the  other  the  dagger  with 
which  he  had  committed  them.  I  was  yefterdaycaiiied 
to  a  fpacious  place,  whtre  a  prodigious  number  of  people 
exprelTcd  the  higheft  joy,  on  beholding  feveral  Ci  their 
fellow-mortals  burned  to  death.  The  ftrange  liablis  in 
which  they  were  dreffed,  andthatairoffaiis^acSlion  which 
appeared  in  the  facrificers,  as  if  at  a  triumph,  made  me 
take  them  for  vi6f  ims  that  thofe  favages  were  offering  to 
their  Gods.  Bur  what  was  my  aftonidmient,  when  I 
learned  that  tne  God  of  thefe  barbarians  beholds  the 
/bedding  of  blood,  not  only  of  men,  butof  bealfs,  with 
abhorrence!  With  what  horror  was  I  feized,  when  Ire- 
flefled  that  it  was  to  the  God  of  mercy  thefe  licentious 
priefts  made  thofe  detefted  oficrings.  Can  thefe  Cuci- 
patas mean  to  appeaii;  their  divinity  by  fuch  facrifices  ? 
Mull  not  tilt  expiation  be  even  more  offcnfive  to  him  than 

thQ 


THE    PERUVIAN   PRINCESS.  I4.9 

the  crimes  otthe  ojfenders  ?  Ah,  Kanhuifcap,  how  de- 
plorable an  error. 

LETTER  XVII. 

Tfj  the  fame  ;  Aza  conmunicates  to  kis  friend  hisi.ieas  ye- 

lati-oe  to  the  pkUofopVic  knO'-JJu'dge  be  had  acquired, 

THE  deiire  of  inromiation  you  apptar  to  have,  my 
faithful  friend,  at  once  pleafes  and  perplexes  me. 
You  afk  for  eclarciffement  5  proofs  of  thole  diicoveriej>, 
I  have  imparted  to  you.  Your  doubts  are  excuieable  j 
but  I  cannot  anfwer  your  demands.  I  could  have  dor.e 
it  a  fliort  time  fmce.  I  conceive  matters  more  eafiiy 
than  J  can  defcribe  them :  and  my  mind,  more  docile 
than  my  hand,  found  evidence  where  it  now  finds  only 
uncertainty.  Two  days  fince  I  was  convinced  thot  the 
earth  was  round  j  at  prefent  I  am  penuaded  that  it  is 
Hat.  Of  tliofe  two  ideas  my  mind  can  form  but  one  tliat 
is  indubitable  j  which  is,  tha,t  it  cannot  be  at  the  lame 
time  both  round  and  fiat.  It  is  frequently  thus  that  er- 
ror leads  to  evidence.  The  fun  turns  round  the  earth, 
one  of  thofe  men  they  call  phiiofophers  faid  to  me  a  few 
days  fince,  I  believed  it,  ior  he  convinced  me  that  it 
was  true.  Anothercame  and  told  me  the  contrary.  I 
fent  for  the  formei  ajid  determmed  to  be  the  judge  be- 
tween them.  By  what  I  could  learn  from  their  diiV.utes, 
it  is  pofiiblc  that  either  the  one,  or  the  other  planet,  may 
make  the  revolution*  :  and  that  the  unccitcr  of  one  of 
the  difpvxtaiUs  was  an  Alguafil. 

You  here  fee  all  that  I  have  learned  frommy  acqr.ain- 
tancc  with  this  rank  of  men,  whofe  fcieiice  at  firit  aito- 
nifjied  me.  The  particular  regard  with  which  they  are 
treated,  is  one  of  thole  tnings  that  lurprife  me.  Is  it 
pofnble  that  a  people  fo  enlightened,  c^n  !;oid  a  fet  of 
men  in  fiich  higii  elteem,  forhavmg  no  other  merit  than 
that  of  thinking  ?  Ci-rtainly  they  muft  lo-Dk  upon  reafon 
a5  fomcthing  very  wonderful.  A  man  has  a  lingiuar 
way  oftiiinkingj  fpcaks  little  j  laughs  never  j  icafojjs. 

*  Our  author  was  either  ignorant  of  this  rr.atrer,  or  reprefert? 
i*:  badly  ;  for  tha:  the  earch  moves  round  the  fun  is  as  derrionftra- 
ble  to  any  man  of  common  I'enfe,  hov/  unieai-ned  foev.r  ycu  may 
fappafs  hJiTi  iQ  hZf  a»  that  sirh cr  of  thsm  cnovs  at  all. 

N  3  al?raysj 


7  50  THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS. 

always  }  Is  proud,  though  poor;  unable  to  purchafe  fine 
deaths,  he  difthiguilhes  lumfelf  by  his  rags.  That 
man  is  a  philolbpher,  and  has  a  right  to  be  iniblent. — 
Another,  who  is  young,  would  turn  philofophy  into,  a 
court  hdy.  He  drelTes  her  in  gorgeous  apparel,  and 
tricks  her  up  with  paint  ami  powder :  flie  is  a  laughing 
coquet,  and  peri'umes  announce  her  approach.  They 
who  have  been  ufcd  to  judge  by  appearances  no  longer 
know  her.  The  philolbpher  appears  to  them  to  be  a 
fjol.  To  fulpeft  him  ol  thought  would  be  to  luppofe 
that  philofophy  was  not  conftantly  one  and  the  lame 
thing.  *  Zais  had  the  vapours,'  laid  Alonzo  ;  *  ftie 
«  mult  afilgn  a  pretext  for  it.     Philofophy  appeared  a 

*  plaiifible  one  to  Zais.     She  omitted  nothing  that  might 

*  riiake  her  pal's  for  a  philolbpher.  She  loon  began  to 
'  think  herl'elf  qualified.  Caprice,  mifanthropy,  and 
'  pride,  juftified-her  right  to  that  title.     Nothing  now 

*  vv'as  wanting,  but  to  find  a  lover  who  was  as  fingular 
«  as  herltlt.     She  has  fucceeded.' 

Zais  and  her  lover  compofe  an  academy.  Their  caflle 
is  an  oblervatcry.  Though  already  far  advanced  in  life 
Zais,  when  hi  her  garden,  is  Flora;  in  her  balcony  fiie 
is  Urania.  Of  her  lover,  awkward  as  well  as  wliimfi- 
cal,  (he  has  made  a  Celadon.  What  is  there  wanting 
to  lb  ridiculous  a  I'cene  ?  Speftators.  Philofophy,  Kan- 
huifoap,  is  here  lefs  the  art  of  thinking,  than  a  lingular 
way  of  thinking.  Ail  the  world  are  pnilolbphers.  To 
appear  to  be  fo,  however,  is  not,  as  you  fee,  a  very 
eaiy  matter. 

LETTER  XVni. 

To  the  fame  :  fame  chJIg7/is  of  the  Spaniards  ivith  regard 

if)  their  -jjomen.     Amcurs  of  their  nuns. 

OF  all  that  Itrikes  nsy  wcnderhig  fight,  Kanhuifoap, 
nothing  furprifes  me  more,  than  the  behaviour  of 
flie  Spaniards  towards  their  wives.  The  great  care 
tley  take  to  conceal  them  under  an  immcnfe  heap  of 
cloaths,  almoll  inclines  me  to  think  that  they  are  rather 
r.vijlicrs  thiin  hufoajids.  By  what  other  motive  can  they 
be  ir.flutnced,  but  by  a  fear  ieail  the  lawful  owners  Tnoulti 

rt  claim 


THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS.  251 

reclaim  what  they  have  ftolen  from  them  ?    For   wiiat 
fhame  can  men  find  in  poiTeirmg  the  gittsoi  love  ?  Thefe 
barbarians  aie  ignorant  of  the  pleafiire  of  being  ktn  in 
the  company  of  thofe  they  love  :  of  ihewing  to  the  whole 
univerfe  the  delicacy  of  tlieir  choice,  orthe  value  of  their 
cunquelt:   to  burn  in  public  thofe  fires  which  were  kind- 
led in  private  5  and  to  communicate  to  a  thoufand  hearts, 
that  homage  due  to  beauty  which  one  alone  can  never 
fuiHciently'pay.     Zilia!   O  my  deareft  Zilia  !  Ye  Gods, 
unjull  and  cruel!   Why  do  you   yet  deprive  m.e  of  her 
fight  ?  My  looks,  united  with  her's  by   ttndernels  and 
delight,  fliould  teach  thefc  unfeeling  mortals,  that  there 
are  no  ornaments  more  precious  than  the  chains  of  love. 
I  believe  however  that  jealcufy  is  the  motive  that  induces 
the  Spaniards  fo  to  conceal  their  wives ;  or  rather  that 
it  is  the  perfidy  of  the  women,  that  forces  their  huf- 
bands  to  this  tyranny.     The  conjugal  oath  is  that  which 
is  the  moll  readily  fwora  ;  can  we  tnen  be  furprifed  that 
it  is  fo  little  regarded  ?  There  ai-e  every  day  to  be  leen. 
here,  two  rich  heirs,  who  unite  without  atfeclion,  live 
together  without  love,  and  ieparate  v/ithout  regret.— 
Tiiough  thisitate  may  appear  to  you  to  be  attended  vv^ith 
little  anxiety,  it  is,  however,   ia  itfclf  unfortunate.    To 
be  loved  by  a  wife  is  not  a  happinefs,   but  it  is  an  un- 
Irippinefs  to  be  hated  by  her. 

Viiginity,  which  is  enjoined  by  their  religion,  is  not 

r'ore  icaipuloufly  regarded  than  conjugal  fidelity,  or  at 

moit  it  is  only  fo  in  appearance.     There  are- here,  as  in 

the  city  of  the  fun,  virgins  who  devote  themfeives  to  the 

Deity.     They  converfe  with  the  men,    however,  in  a 

familiar  manner.     A  grate  only  feparates  them.     Now 

the  ufe  of  this  feparation  I  am  not  able  to  comprehend. 

For  ir  they  have  ilrength  enough  to  preferve  their  virtue 

in  the  midft  of  the  continual  intercourfe  they   have  with 

the  men,  o-^  wiiat  uie  is  the  grate :  and  if  love  takes  pol- 

fcfilon  of  their  hearts,  what  a  weak  obltacle   is  fuch  an 

xciting  Reparation,  which  gives   the  eyes   leave  to  acf, 

id  the  heart  to  fpeak  !  A  fort  of  Cxicipatas  are  afildu- 

.'.b  ill  ilicir  attendance  on  thofe  virgins,  wliomthey  call 

nuns  3 


X5i  THE   PERUVIAK    PRINCESS, 

nuns  ;  and  under  the  pretence  of  inlpiring  them  with  a 
pure  woifhip,  they  excite  and  encourage  in  them,  thofe 
lentiments  of  love,  to  which  they  become  a  prey.  Art, 
which  appears  to  be  banilhed  from  their  hearts,  is  not, 
however,  from  their  looks  and  their  geftures.  A  cer- 
tain manner  which  is  to  be  alTumed  with  the  veil,  an 
Iiumble  mien,  and  a  lludied  attitude,  are  fufficient  to 
employ,  during  the  fourth  part  of  a  year,  the  time,  the 
pains,  and  even  the  vigils  of  a  nun.  The  eves  oi  thefe 
religious  ai'e  alio  more  fkilful  than  thole  of  others. — 
They  are  pi6tures  in  which  we  fee  painted  all  the  fenti- 
nients  of  the  heart.  Tendernefs,  innocence,  languor, 
rage,  grief,  defpalr  and  plcafurCjare  all  there  exprefled  : 
and  if  the  curtain  be  dropped  over  the  painting  for  a 
moment,  it  is  only  to  give  time  to  fubftitute  another 
pifture  in  its  place.  What  difference  between  the  lall 
look  of  a  religious,  and  that  which  fucceeds  it !  All 
this  artifice  is,  however,  nothing  more  than  the  work 
of  one  man.  A  Cucipatas  has  the  direfticn  of  a  man- 
iion  filled  with  nuns ;  who  are  all  defiious  of  pleafing 
him.  They  become  coquettes  ;  and  their  dire6\or,  how 
dull  foever  he  may  naturally  be,  is  forced  to  afiiime  an 
air  of  coquetry;  gratitude  obliges  him  to  it.  Suie  to 
pleafe,  he  contrives  ficfh  means  to  make  himlelf  belov- 
ed: he  fucceeds,  and  becomes,  in  a  manner,  to  be  a- 
dored.  You  will  judge  by  the  following  inifances.  I 
am  informed  that  one  of  thefe  virgins  has  adorned  the 
head  of  the  image  of  the  god  of  the  Spaniards  with  the 
hair  of  a  m.onk.  They  have  alfo  fhewn  me  part  of  a  let- 
ter wrote  by  a  nun  to  father  T  .  .  .  .  of  which  tlie  fol- 
lowing is  nearly  the  contents. 

'  O  Jefus  !  my  father,  how  imjuif  you  are  !  God  is 
'  my  witnefs    that  father  Ange  does   not   occupy    my 

*  thoughts  one  moment,  and  far  from  being  elevated  by 

*  his  fermon,  tvcn  to  an  ecftaly  (as  vcu  reproach  me)  I 

*  was  during  his  wdiole  difcou'rfe  employed  with  think- 

*  ing  of  nothing  but  you.     Yes,  father,  one fingle  word 

*  from  you  makes  more  imprefTion  on  m.y  heart,  on  that 

*  heart  which  you  lb  little  kntw,    than  all  that  father 

Ange 


THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS.  15^ 

«  Ange  could  fay  for  whole  years  together ;  even  though 
'   it  were  hi  the  little  parlour  of  our  Abbefs,    and  that 

*  he  thought  he  was  talking  with  her  ...  .  If  my  eyes 
'  i'eemed  to  fparkle,  it  was   becaufe   I   was  with  \ou 

*  when  he  preached.     O  that  you  could  penetrate  to  my 

*  heart,  that  you  might  better  underftand  what  I  write 

*  to  you.     You  came   Into   the  parlour  likewife,  and 

*  never  enquired  after  me.  Have  you  forgot  me  then  r 
'  Do  you  no  longer  remember  that  ....  You  never 

*  once  regarded  )ne  yefterday   during  your  whole   vifit. 

*  Will  heaven  fo  far  increafe  my  affliction  as  to  deprive 

*  me  of  theconfolations  I  receive  from  you  ?  For  mercy's 

*  fake,  dear  father,  do  not  abandon  me  in  that  diilrefs 

*  you  have  now  plunged  me.     I  del'erve  your  pity :  and 

*  if  V'  u  have  not  compaffion  on  me,  you  will  loon  hezr 

*  no  more  of  the  unfortunate    Therefa.     You  will   re- 

*  ceive  from  the  keeper  of  our  turning-box  an  almond 

*  cake  of  my  making.  I  have  enclofed,  in  this  letter, 
«  a  billet  that  lifter  A wrote  to  father  don  X 

*  I  found  means  to  intercept  it ;  and  I  think  it  will  af- 

*  ford  you  fome  entertainment.  Oh  !  that  ....  The 
'  bell  rings.  Adieu.'  After  tliis,  Kanhuifcap,  you 
cannot  rcirain  from  allowing  that  the  Spaniards  are 
as  ridiculous  in  their  amours,  as  they  are  remorfelefs  in 
their  cruelties.  It  is  only  in  the  houfe  of  Alcnzo,  I 
believe,  that  juftice  and  reafon  prevail.  lam  not  able 
to  detemaine,  however,  what   I  Ihould  think  of  the  be- 

■  haviour  of  Zulmira  :  it  is  too  tender  to  be  the  effeif  of 
art  alone,  and  too  ftudied  to  proceed  from  the  heart. 
LETTER  XIX. 
To  lkefa?ne:  refieclions  ofAzA  on  the  futility  of  met  a- 
fkifical  kno-txledge, 

TO  think  is  a  profeiTion  :  to  know  onefelf  is  an  ac- 
complifliment.  It  is  not  given  to  eveiy  man,  Kan- 
hui.cap,  to  read  his  own  heart.  There  is  a  certain  rank 
of  philoibphers  here,  who  alone  have  that  right,  or  ra- 
ther that  of  confounding  this  knowledge.  Far  irom  en- 
deavouring to  correft  the  pafiions,  their  only  concern  is 
to  know  from  whc nee  they  proceed:    and  this   fclence, 

which 


T54  THE    PERUVIAN    PRl  NCESS. 

which  ought  to  make  the  bad  man  blufli,  ferves  only  to 
make  them  lee  that  they  liave  one  qualification  the  more  j 
which  is,  the  unfVuitlul  talent  of  knowing  their  own 
imperfeftions.  The  metaphylkians,  tor  that  is  the 
name  of  thele  philoibphers,  diftinguifii  in  man  three  prin- 
ciples ;  the  Ibul,  the  mind,  and  the  heart  :  and  all  their 
Icience  oniy  tends  to  know  trom  which  of  thele,  liich  or 
luch  an  aftion  proceeds.  This  dilcovery  once  made, 
their  arrogance  liecomes  inconceivable.  Virtue  is  not, 
io  to  ijpeak,  any  longer  made  for  them  :  they  think  it 
iufEcient  to  know  what  it  is  that  produces  it ;  and  fre- 
quently relemble  thole  wlio  are  difgulted  with  a  liquor 
that  is  excellent  in  itfelt,  when  they  know  that  it  comes 
from  a  country  that  is  but  little  efteemed. 

From  the  fame  caufe  it  is,  that  the  metaphyfician,  in- 
toxicated with  a  fcience  that  he  thinks  wonderful,  omits 
no  oppvsrtunity  of  displaying  his  knowledge.  If  he  writes 
to  hivS  miftrels,  his  letter  is  nothing  more  than  a  precife 
analyfis  of  the  minuteft  faculties  of  his  foul.  His  mif- 
trels thinks  herielt  obliged  to  reply  in  the  fame  ffyle  j 
and  they  confound  each  other  with  chimerical  dillinctions 
and  exprelTions,  which  cuftom  has  authorized,  though 
it  has  not  rendered  intelligible.  Your  own  reflexions 
on  the  manners  of  the  Spaniards,  will  ealily  lead  you  to 
thole  which  I  have  here  made.  Would  that  my  heart 
were  free,  my  generous  friend  !  I  could  then  paint  with 
more  force  thele  thoughts,  which  have  here  no  other  or- 
der than  that  which  my  prefcnt  agitation  will  allow.— 
The  time  approaches  when  my  miferies  vv'illhavean  end. 
Zilia  will  at  length  appear  to  my  impatient  fight.  The 
thought  of  that  pleafure  dilbi  del  s  my  realbn.  I  fly  to 
meet  her.  I  behold  her  participate  of  my  anxieties  and 
my  pleafures:  the  tender  tears  flow  from  our  eyes. 
Again  united  after  our  misfortunes  ....  How  is  my 
foul  afHicled,  Kanhuifcap!  in  what  a  horrid  ftate  will 
fhe  find  me!  the  wretched  flavc  of  a  barbarian,  whole 
fetters  perhaps  flie  bears,  at  the  court  of  a  haughty  con- 
queror. Can  fne  remember  her  lover  ?  Can  flie  flunk 
that  he  ftill  lives  ?  She  is  in  bondage  :  can  llie  ima- 
gine 


THE    PERUVIAN  PRINCE<;S.  1?^ 

gine  that  obftacles  lufficiently  ftiong,  have  been  able 
....  Kanhuiicap,  what  ought  I  to  expe6l  ?  What  lot 
is  rc.civ^d  lor  me?  When  I  was  worthy  of  her,  cruel 
Gods,  you  ihatched  her  from  my  arms.  Shall  I  only 
find  hei-  again  to  be  a  trefti  witnels  of  my  ignominy  ? 
And  thou,  barbarous  element,  which  art  to  reftore  me 
the  obje6l  of  my  love,  canft  thou  reftore  me  to  my  glory. 

LETTER  XX. 

To  the  fame :  the  defpatr  q/"  Aza,  ~jjho  imagines  ZiLIA  ta 

kosje  been  fujalloixed  up  by  thefea. 

WHAT  cruel  power  has  matched  me  from  the  dark- 
neis  of  the  grave  ?  What  ungenerous  pity  has. 
made  me  again  behold  the  deteftcd  light  ?  Kanhuiicap, 
my  misfortunes  increafe  with  my  days,  and  my  ftrength 
augments  with  the excefs  ofmy  mifery  ....  Zilia  is  no 
more!  .  .  .  .  O  horrid  delpair'.  O  cniel  remembrance  I 
Ziiia  is  no  morel  and  I  Itiil  breath  !  and  theie  hands, 
which  grief  fhould  buid,  can  (lill  form  thoie  knots  which 
milery  attends,  which  tears  be  dew,  and  which  are  cor- 
^eyed  to  thee  by  defpair.  In  vain  has  the  fun  perfpnii- 
ed  a  third  part  of  his  courfe,  fiiice  you  pierced  my  heart 
with  that  mcft  latai  ftroke.  In  vain  has  defpondency, 
a  total  dejection,  poil'efled  my  foul  even  to  this  day.  My 
grief,  ineifecfual.ly  reilrained,  has  become  only  the  more 
violent.  I  have  left  my  Zilia.  An  immenie  fpace  of 
time  feemed  to  feparate  us;  and  at  this  moment  I  loie 
her  tor  ever.  The  dreadful  tboke  that  fnatched  her  from 
me ;  the  perfidious  clement  that  furrounds  her,  prefent 
tiiemfelves  to  my  dlitraoted  fight.  I  fee  my  Zilia  borne 
on  the  hideous  waves  ....  the  fun  retires  with  horror 
behind  the  thickeil  clouds;  the  fea  opens  to  hide  its 
crime  from  that  God :  but  it  cannot  conceal  her  from 
me.  Through  the  waters  I  behold  the  body  of  Zilia  : 
licr  eyes  .  .  .  her  boibm  ...  a  livid  palcnefs  .  .  .  O  my 
tVieiid  .  .  .  inexorable  deaih  .  .  .  death  tnat  flies  from  me 
...  Ye  Gods,  more  ciT.el  in  your  indulgence  than  in 
your  puinilbnieius  !  Why  do  ye  ifi'l  iuiTcr  me  to  live  ? 
Will  you  never  unite  thofe  whom  you  cannot  feparate  ? 
Ill  yaui,  Kanhuifcap,  do  I  call  on  death;  he  flics  from 

mc ; 


1^6  the;  PERUVIAjr    PRINCESS. 

me :  the  barbarian  is  deaf  to  my  voice,  and  keeps  his 
darts  for  thofe  that  would  avoid  theni.  Zilia,  my  be- 
loved Zllia,  hear  niv  cries ;  behold  my  flowing  tears  ; 
thou  haft  none  }  I  only  live  to  fhed  them  :  O  that  I 
could  dro.vn  myfelf  in  the  torrent  that  flows  from  my 
ey?s  .  .  .  why  can  I  not  ?  .  .  .  Ah !  you  have  none  j 
loul  of  my  foul  1  You  .  .  .  my  hands  will  no  longer  lend 
me  their  aid  ...  I  fmk  under  my  afl^iftion  .  .  .  horrid 
defpair  .  .  .  tears  .  .  .  love  ...  a  ftrange  coldnei's  .  .  . 
Zilia  .  .  .  Kanhuifcap  .  .  .  Zilia  !  .  .    . 

LETTER  XXI. 
To  the  fame  ;  Aza  recoTjers  frotn  a  dangerous  illnefs  by 

the  cares  o^'Alonzo  ^«i/ Zulmira, 
T^.TTlAT  will  be  your  aftonifliment,  Kanhuifcap, 
V  V  when  theie  knots  which  niy  hands  are  fcarce  able 
to  form,  fliali  tell  you  that  I  ftill  live.  My  grief,  my 
defpair,  the  time  that  has  paiTed  lince  you  have  heard 
from  me,  all  muft  have  convinced  you  that  I  no  longer 
exiited.  Difmifs  thofe  anxieties  which  are  due  to  friend- 
fliip,  efteem  and  misfortune }  and  let  not  my  weaknefs 
make  you  deplore  my  prefent  exiftence :  the  lofs  of  Ziiia 
ought  to  have  finifhed  niy  being.  The  Gods  who  fliould 
have  pardoned  me  the  crime  of  feeking  my  death,  have 
taken  from  me  the  power  of  committing  it.  Subdued  by 
grief,  fcaice  did  I  perceive  the  approach  of  death.,  who 
came  at  laft  to  put  a  period  to  my  miferies.  A  dange- 
rous difeafe  laid  hold  of  me,  and  would  have  led  me  to 
the  tomb,  if  the  unfortunate  interpofitionsof  Alonzohad 
not  protrafied  my  duration.  I  breathe  :  but  it  is  only  to 
be  a  prey  to  the  ir.oft  cruel  anxieties.  In  that  horrid 
Hate  I  now  am  ;  all  things  difguit  me.  The  friendfliip 
of  Alonzo,  the  grief -of  Zulmira,  their  attention,  their 
tears,  all  afliict  me.  Alone  in  the  midll  of  mankind,  I 
only  difcern  thofe  that  fmround  me,  to  fly  from  them. 
May  a  friend  lcl5  unfortunate,  Kanhuifcap,  be  therecom- 
pence  of  thy  virtue!  I  am  too  c'illraclcd  a  lovcrto  be  a 
rational  friend  :  for  how  can  I  tafte  the  fwects  oi-  triend- 
(liip,  when  I  am  cp'Uefled  by  love  wich  the  m.ofl  cruel 
torments  ?  LETTER 


THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS.  T  ;? 

LETTER  XXII. 

To  ike  fame:  Alonzo  fi////ZuLMiRA  endea^vour  to  dif- 
f.pate  the  grief  of  At.  \. 

FRIENDSHIP,  at  length,  has  lellored  me  to  thee^^ 
Iv. :  ihuiicap  5  to  myielF.  Too  much  concerned  at 
my  aftiiclicfts,  Alonzc  would  dililpafe,  or  at  -eaft  fhai^ 
with  me.  With  this  defign  he  cariied  me  to  a  country 
feat  he  has  a  few  miles  from  Madrid.  There  i  found 
the  fatisfaftion  of  meeting  with  nothing  that  did  not  an- 
fwer  to  the  dcje«3-ion  of  my  mind.  A  v/ood,  in  the 
nei2rb.l)Ourhcod  of  Alonzo's  villa,  has  been  a  long  tin.e 
the  i^ci't:  nepufitory  of  my  woes.  There  I  faw  no  cb- 
j-rrflb  but  what  were  proper  to  nouriili  my  defpondency. 
Frightful  rocks:  enormous  mountains,  dei'poiled  of  their - 
verdure ;  thick  Itrcams  flow  pacing  over  their  muddy- 
beds  ;  dark  pines,  whofe  mournful  blanches  -etm  to  touch 
til e  clouds }  icorcbed  grafs,  and  withered  flowers  j  ad- 
ders and  croaking  ravens^  were  the  only  witnefies  of  my 
tears.  Alonzo  ibcn  took  me,  reg^rdlefs  of  my  entrea- 
ties, from  thde  gloomy  icenes.  It  was  then  that  I  found 
how  much  our  miifo-; tunes  are  alleviated  by  paiticlpa- 
ticn  ;  and  how  much  I  owed  to  the  tender  cares  of  Zul- 
miia  and  Alonzo.  Where  ftiall  I  find  colours  ftrung 
enough,  IvaiVnuifeap,  to  paint  the  grief  that  my  unhap- 
p  nel's  occaiioned  ti!:;m  ?  Zuimiia,  the  tender  Zulmira, 
graced  them  with  htr  tears  ;  her  efiiicncn  was  bnt  littJe 
lt->  than  my  own.  Pale  and  deje£ted,  whenever  her  eyes 
met  mine  they  flo^ved  with  grief  j  while  Alonzo  tenderly 
deplored  my  unhappy  fate. 

LETTER  XXIII. 
Tb  the  fame :  Zulmira  is  inb-je  -jjitb  Aza  j  the  inci- 
dents that  attend  it. 
ZULMIRA- whole  cares  all  centred  in  the  unhap-  i- 
nefs  or  x%za  j  Zidmira;  who  participated  my  giie.sj 
and  trembled  jcr  n-y  lit^e  j  is  now  nerielt  on  the  brink  of 
the  grave:  every  moment  ai:~ments  her  dangers,  and 
threatens  her  dilioluticn.  Yielding  at  laft  to  the  tender  in- 
■  V  -aties  or  her  father,  who  la;/  gioanlng  at  her  feet,  with- 
ng  her  r.ny  relief  j  and  perhaps  f^iU 
O  more 


158  THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS, 

inore  influenced  by  the  emotions  of  her  heart,  Zulinua 
ijpoke.  It  is  I,  it  is  Aza,  whoin  misrbrtune  will  never 
forfake ;  it  is  that  wretch,  whole  diltiadled  heart  knows 
nothing  but  defpairj  and  the  mats  of  wliole  blootl  is 
changed  by  love  into  a  baneful  poilbn,  who  is  the  cauie 
of  this  misfortune.  It  is  I  that  have  taken  Zuhnira 
from  her  father,  from  my  friend.  She  loves  me  j  fhe 
dies.     Alonzo  follows  her.      Zilia  is   no  more  !     <  I 

*  have  felt  for  thy  griefs  j  come  and  partake  of  mine, ' 
(faid  the  diftrafted  lather  to  me.)     *  Come  and  give  me 

*  back  my  life,  and  my  child.     Wretched  man,  whole 

*  mileries  I  lament  at  the  very  moment  I  entreat  yuu  to 

*  alleviate  my  own.     Be  fenfible  to  friendlhip  j  for  it  is 

*  yet  in  your  power.     The  moft  amiable  of  all  virtues 

*  cannot  injure  your  love.  Come,  follow  me  !'  At  thelb 
words,  which  were  accompanied  by  deep-fetchM  %hs, 
he  led  mc  to  theappartment  of  his  daughter.  With  hor- 
ror and  dejeflion,  I  trembling  entered.  The  palenefs 
of  death  was  fpiead  over  her  countenance :  but  her  dark- 
ened eyes  were  re-animated  at  the  fight  ot  me:  my  pre- 
lence  leemed  to  p-ivenew  life  to  the  unfortunate  Zulmira. 

*  I  die,'  ihe  faid  to  me  with  faultering  accents.     *  I 

*  never  fliall  fee  you  more:  that  is  all  my  grief.  At  leaft, 
'  Aza,  while  I  yet  live,  fufFer  me  to  lay  ....   I  Icve 

*  you.     lean  ...  .  Yes,  remember  that  Zuhnira  car- 

*  ries  with  her  to  the  grave  that  love  which  Ihe  could  not 

*  conceal :  that  which  her  looks,  her  actions  have  ioof- 

*  ten  declared  j  and  which  your  inditference  has  at  iall 

*  ....  but  I  cannot  reproach  you:  your  fenfibility 
'  would  have  proved  your  hiconilancy.     Devoted  toano- 

*  ther,  death  alone  can  feparate  you :  it  never  can  divelt 
'  me  of  the  love  I  bear  you.     I  prefer  it  to  the  cure  of  a 

*  milery  thati  cheiifh: 'of  a  mifery  .  .  .  Aza  .  .  .* 
Shx:  iire'tched  her  hand  towards  me  :  her  fpirits  left  her  j 
Ihe  fell  5  her  eyes  clofed :  but  while  I  reproached  myfelf 
vvith  her  death,  and  added  my  anxieties  to  thofe  or  her 
deipairing  father  ;  the  cares  of  others  had  brought  her 
back  to  life.  Pier  eyes  opened  agam,  and  though  ftiil 
daikeneJ  with  dcfpondency,  Ihe  fixed  them  on  me,  and 

exprcilcd 


THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS.  159 

exprefTcd  the  nioft  tender  love.  *  Aza !  Aza!'  flie  laid 
again,  *  do  not  hate  me.'  I  tell  at  her  feet,  overcome  by 
her  diftrets.  A  fudden  joy  flione  in  her  countenance ; 
but  nnable  to  bear  the  various  emotions  her  mind  fuftam- 
ed,  file  agjain  fainted  under  them.  They  forced  me  a- 
way,  to  iave  her  from  a  repetition  of  fuch  dangerous  agi- 
tations. What  can  you  think,  Kanhuifcap,  of  thefe  new 
misfoitunes  to  which  I  am  a  prey:  of  that  mifery  which 
I  caule  to  thofe  to  whom  I  owe  tlie  greateft  obligations  ? 
This  new  grief  is  come  to  add  itfelf  to  thofe  wiiich  attend- 
ed me  in  the  gloomy  delert,  whne  love,  delpair,  and 
death  were  my  conftant  companions. 
LETTER  XXIV. 
'Tothe  fa?ne:  Zulmira  is  rejhred  to  her  health, 

MY  friend,  the  lot  ot  Alonzo  is  changed.  The  grief 
by  which  he  was  oppreflTedhas  given  place  to  joy. 
Zulmira,  ready  to  defcend  to  the  grave,  is  reftored  to 
life.  It  is  no  longer  that  Zulmira  whom  langour  had 
reduced  to  the  brink  of  diffolution  :  her  eyes,  reanimated, 
riowdifplay  that  beauty  and  thofe  graces,  with  which  her 
youth  is  adorned.  Though  I  admire  her  reviving  charms. 
Can  you  believe  it  ?  Far  from  talking  to  me  of  her  love, 
iliefeemsjon  the  contrar)',to  be  confounded  by  the  confufion 
that  has  efcaped  her.  Her  looks  are  caft  down  whenever  her 
eyes  meet  mine.  My  pains  were  fuipended  ;  but  alas!  how 
fliort  the  fufpenfe.  Zilia,  my  deareft  Zilia,  can  I  be  di- 
verted from  my  grief?  Forgive  thofe  moments  that  I 
have  flolen  from  thee  ;  all  that  yet  remain  fhall  be  confe- 
ci-ated  to  my  misfortunes-  Do  not  imagine  Kanuiicap, 
that  the  fear  which  Alonzo  has  ftiewn  me  for  Zulmira, 
can  fliake  my  conlfancy.  In  vain  does  he  reprefent  tome 
the  empire  of  Aza  over  the  heart  of  his  daughter  :  the  jo? 
that  our  union  would  give  him  ;  and  the  death  that  muft 
follow  cur  leparation,  I  rem.ain  fdtnt  before  that  unhap- 
py father.  Aly  heart,  faithful  to  my  palfion,  is  firm, 
determined  for  Zilia.  No  5  in  vain  does  Alonzo,  ready 
to  depart  for  tliat  unfortunate  country,  which  fhall  never 
more  behold  my  Zdia,  offer  me  that  power  which  his  un- 
juft  king  has  given  him  over  my  ptfoplc.  It  would  be 
O  2.  to 


l60  TH3   PERUVIAN    ?Pv.INCESS. 

l-o  acknowledge  a  tyrant,  to  avail  mylelf  of  his  power. 
^^y  hands  may  be  loaded  with,  irons,  but  tiiey  fliall  never 
enchain  my  heart.  Forever  will  I  entertain  for  the  bar- 
barous chief  of  the  Spaniards,  that  hatred  which  I  owe 
to  the  firft  among  a  people  who  liave  been  the  caufe  of  all 
my  miferies,  and  thofeof  my  unhappy  country. 

LETTFR  XXV, 

To  the  farm:  At.  a  co,itn~jes  the  defign  ofefpoufmg  Zul- 

MJRA.     He  gi-ves  the  reafons  that  m duces  him  to  it. 

MY  eyes  are  opened,  Kanuifcap  :  the  flames  of  love 
yield,  without  being  extinguifned,  to  the  torch  of 
reafon.  O  immortal  flames  that  devour  my  bolbm  !  Zdia  ! 
tliou  of  whole  image  nothing  can  deprive  me;  thouwnom 
a  fatal  delHny  has  ihatched  from  me  for  e-'crj  be  r^ot  of- 
fended, if  the  dehre  of  feekins  vengeanc  r '  ;r  you,  excites 
me  to  betray  you.  No  longer  tell  me,  Kanhuifcap,  of 
what  I  owe  to  mj  people  and  my  father-  I  no  longer 
talk  of  the  tyranny  of  the  Spaniards.  Can  I  forget  my 
misfortunes  and  their  crimes  ?  They  have  coll  me  too 
dear.  That  cruel  remembrance  roufes  ray  furv.  It  is 
lione:  I  confent !  I  go  to  unite  myl'elf  with  Zulmira. 
Alonzo,  I  have  given  thee  that  promife.  Can  it  be  a 
crinie  to  leave  Zulmira  in  poUcifion  of  an  error  that  is 
pleafmg  to  her?  She  thinks  that  llie  triumphs  over  my 
lieart.  Ah!  far  from  undeceiving  her,'  let  her  enjoy  her 
imaginary  happinefs :  let  her  .  ...  It  is  by  this 
jrje?aiS  only  that  I  can  avenge  my  opprefled  people 
and  srvfelf.  No  fooner  fliall  our  union  be  accom.plifh- 
ed,  th.an  I  fliall  depart  ior  the  land  of  the  Sun  j 
that  defolated  country  whole  mileries  you  defcribe  to 
me.  It  is  tliere  that  I  fliall  purfue  that  vengeance 
whofe  violent  tranfports  I  now  fupprefs.  It  is  on 
a  perfidious  people  that  I  will  hurl  my  fury.  Re- 
duced to  the  bafe  condition  of  a  wretched  flave ;  and  for 
the  firfl:  time  forced  to  difl'emble,  I  go  to  punlfli  the 
Spaniards  for  my  deception,  and  for  their  otFences :  while 
f  he  famdy  of  Alonzo  ihail  enjoy  all  that  the  grateful  heart 
C2ii  bertow,  and  ail  tholi  hcmages  which  are  due  to  virtue. 

LETTEK 


THE    PFRUVIAX    PRIN'CtSS.  r6l 

LETTER  XXVI. 
To  the  fame:  Zulmira  is  rejhred  to  her  health. 

IF  you  were  one  oi'  thoic  men  who  are  condu(5led  by 
prejudice,  I  ihould  imaginewhatwouldbe  youriur- 
prile,  when  you  was  told  bv  an  Inca,  that  he  no  longer 
adored  the  fun.  I  fliould  hear  you  complain  to  that  itar 
of  the  light  which  he  ftill  afforded  me;  and  to  thyfelf 
for  the  trouble  you  took  in  communicating  your  lenti- 
ments.  You  would  be  aftonillied,  that,  perjured  to  my 
God,  friendlhip,  that  virtue  of  which  the  vicious  have 
no  conception,  could  ftill  dwell  in  my  breait.  But,  for- 
tiiied  againll  thofe  prejudices  which  were  taught  you  as 
virtues,  you  require  of  a  Peruvian  nothing  but  the  love 
of  his  country,  of  virtue,  and  of  freedom.  I  expect 
from  you  more  juft  reproaches.  You  will,  perhaps, 
be  furprifed,  and  with  reafon,  to  fee  me  abandon  a 
v^^oriliip  that  appeared  to  me  irrational,  and  at  the  fame 
time  appear  zealous  for  a  religion  of  which  I  have  pointed 
out  to  you  the  contradlclions.  I  have  already  made  that 
objection  to  myfelf :  but  it  prefently  vanifhed,  when  I 
was  informed  that  the  law  which  I  have  had  the  audacity 
to  cenfure,  was  diftated  by  that  God  who  was  the  author 
of  our  being !  In  fact,  of  what  confequence  is  the  par- 
ticular foiTn  of  any  worfnip,  provided  it  be  enjoined  by 
him  to  whom  it  is  rendered.  On  this  principle  it  is, 
that  I  do  not  blufh  to  conform  to  thole  ceremonies  which 
I  have  formerly  condemned.  How  great,  howawiulare 
the  works  of  the  Supreme  Being  !  Could  you  read, 
Kanhuilcap,  thofe  divine  books  that  have  been  commu- 
nicated to  me,  whatwlfdcm,  what  power,  what  imm.en- 
ijty,  would  you  there  dlfccver '  "V  ou  v/ould  there  readily 
difcern  the  hand  of  the  Divinity.  Thofe  unfurmountable 
ccntradiftions  which  I  at  nrft  found  in  the  difpeniaticns 
of  that  power,  are  here  evidently  juftlfied.  It  is  not  the 
fame,  however,  with  regard  to  the  conducl  of  thefe 
men  toward  their  God. 

Do  not   imagine,  credulous  as  we  com.monly  are,    I 
v/rote  you  this  upon  the  report  of  a  pritil  only.     I  have 
luo  much  experienced  the  falfhood  of  our  Cucipatas,  to 
O  3  credit 


?6a  THE  PERUVIAN    PRINCESS, 

credit  the  fables  of  thofe  who  refcmble  them.  The  high 
rank  which  they  hold  among  all  nations,  induces  them  to 
praclife  deceit :  for  their  grandeur  is  irequently  tounded 
on  nothing  but  the  errors  of  ambitious  people  :  it  would 
be  top  dear  a  purchafe  for  them,  if  the  empire  of  the 
wt>rld  was  to  be  obtained  by  Virtue  only :  they  are  much 
better  pleafed  to  obtain  it  by  impoftuie. 

LETTER  XXVI L 

To  the  fame :  the  difirafiionof  Aza,  ^J^ko  is  on  ike  point  of 

marrying  Zulmira. 

IT  is  done,  Kanhuifcap  :  Zulmira  now  attends  me. 
I  go  to  the  altar.  You  fee  me  already  there ;  but 
do  you  fee  the  remorfe  that  attends  me !  Do  you  behold 
the  altars  tremble  at  the  fight  of  a  perurer  ?  The  fhade 
of  Zilia,  bloody  and  indignant,  enlightens  thefe  nuptials 
with  a  mourniul  torch  ;  and  with  a  reproixhing  tone  fhe 
fays,  '  Is  this  the  faith  that  you  have  fworn  to  me  ?    Per- 

*  fidious!      Is  this  the  love  that  fliould  reanimate  my 

*  alhes  ?     You  love  me,   you  fay,  and  yet  you  give  your 

*  hand  to  Zulmira.     You  love  me,  traitor,  and  yet  you 

*  give  to  anotiier  that  blefiing  which  I  could  never  en;cy  ! 

*  Did  I  yet  live '      What  tortures,  Kanhuiicap, 

rend  my  bread  ?  I  hear  the  injured  Zulmira  demand  a 
heart  to  v/hich  fne  has  a  Liv/ful  right.  I  btrhoid  my  fa- 
ther and  my  people  bending  under  a  cruel  yoke,  and  callii-g 
on  me  to  be  their  deliverer.  I  tlien  remember  my  pic- 
mlfe I  go  to  fulnl  it. 

LETTER  XXVIII. 

Tothefafne:  Aza  infornud  of  the  o:rri--jaI  of  Zi'LiPi.  t-i 

France,  lea-jes  Alonzo  and  Zulmira  to  go  to  her. 

ZILIA  Itiil  lives !  V/here  can  I  find  a  meflenger 
Iwitt  enough  to  communicate  to  you.  the  excefs  cf 
my  joy?  Kanhuifcap,  you  v/ho  have  feit  m.y  grieij, 
participate  of  the  traniports  of  my  foul.  O  that  the 
flames  which  now  glow  in  my  breaft,  could  fly  and  im- 
part to  thine  the  overflowings  of  my. felicity.  Theiea  j 
our  enemies  J  death}  no,  nothing  has  taken  from  me  the 
objtiSI:  of  my  love.  She  lives !  fne  loves  me  I  think  th.n 
Vv'hat  are  my  tranl'ports  !     Bicugl-t  into  a  neighbouring 

Itate, 


THE    PERUVIAN    PRIXCESS,  163 

liate,  into  France,  Zilia  has  experienced  no  misfortune 
but  that  oF  our  itparation,  and  of  the  uncertainty  of  my 
ftate.  How  do  the  Gods  piote6l  the  virtuous  !  A  ge- 
nerous Frenchman  has  delivej  ed  her  from  the  barbariLy  of 
the  Spaniards.  All  things  were  ready  to  unite  me  with 
Zuhnira ;  I  was  going,  O  ye  Gods  !  .  .  .  when  I  heard 
that  Zilia  ftiii  hvcd,  and  that  flie  would  fliortly  be  with 
me.  No  obftacle  can  keep  her  from  me.  I  fhall  again 
behold  her.  Froivi  her  iips  Ihall  I  hear  thofe  tender  fen- 
timents,  which  her  hands  have  tiaced 5  and  at  her  feet  I 

ihail O  Heavens,  I  tremble  at  the  thought  of 

that  which  is  the  caufe  of  all  my  joy.  My  happinefs 
confounds  me.      Zilia  is  coming  into  the  midil:  of  her 

enemies'.     New  dangers! SheHiall  not  come.    I 

will  ii\y  to  prevent  her.  What  can  hinder  me  ?  Tlie 
Gods  hr-ve  difengaged  m.e  from  Alcnzo  and  Zulmira. — 
Zilia  ftill  lives.  I  receive  her  from  the  hands  of  virtue. 
In  vain  did  gratitude,  efteem,  and  fiiendfliip,  efpoufe 
the  caufe  of  Detervilie  her  deliverer  j  fhe  oppofed  to  them 
our  love,  and  obliged  them  to  yield  to  our  fiam.es.  Glo- 
rious combat !  How  do  I  admire  that  effort !  Deterville 
ftifies  his  love  :  he  forgets  the  rights  which  he  had  over 
her  :  and  behold  his  genercfity  j  he  unites  us  for  everi 
Ziila!  Zilia  !  I  go  to  drink  deep  of  felicity.  I  fly  to 
meet  her,  to  behold  her,  and  to  die  with  pleafure  at  her 
feet. 

LETTER  XXIX. 

To  the  fame ;  Aza  is  jealous  0/ Deterville,  and  from 

IV  hat  moti--ve. 

YOU  mufl  accufe  Zilia  only,  dear  friend,  for  m.y  fl- 
lence.  I  have  ittn  her  j  and  I  have  feen  nothing 
but  her.  Do  not  expe6l  that  I  fiiould  exprefs  to  you  thoie 
tranfports,  thofe  ravifliing  delights  in  which  I  vs^as  ab- 
forbed  the  firlt  momicnt  fhe  appeared  to  my  fight.  To 
conceive  them  it  were  neceffnry  to  love  Zilia  as  I  love 
her.  Muft  tornents  yet  unknown  invade  a  felicity  lb 
puje  r  Between  the  bofom  of  pleafure  and  the  den  of 
grict  is  there  then  no  interval  ?  After  fuch  voluptiious 
d-r^hts,  a  tUcui»r.d  tortures  tear  my  heart.      My  ten- 

demefs 


t64  THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS, 

dernefs  is  odious  to  me  j  and  at  the  moment  that  I  would 
not  love,  I  am  poflcfled  with  all  its  i\iry.  I  have  borne 
the  grief  that  the  loi's  of  Zilia  occafione'd  ;   I  cannot  bear 

that  which  I  now  feel.      She  loves  me  110  more 

O  diftra^ling  thought !  When  I  behold  her,  love  pours 
into  my  ioul,  with  one  hand  pleafure,  and  with  the  other 
torture.  In  the  firft  tranfpoits  of  a  happinefs  fo  pure, 
that  I  cannot  exprefs  to  you  the  uveetnefs  that  attended 
it,  Zilia  ftole  from  my  aims  to  read  a  letter,  which  was 
given  her  by  the  young  perfon  who  had  condu6led  me 
hither.  Difordered,  afilidfed,  melted,  thole  tears  which 
file  had  juit  given  to  jcy,  no  longer  flowed  but  for  grief. 
She  bathed  that  letter  with  her  tears.  Her  grief  made 
me  anxious  for  her  welfare.  The  ingrate  tailed  pleaiures- 
The  grief  of  which  I  had  partaken  was  the  triumph  of 
my  rival.  Deterville,  that  deliverer,  whofe  praife  thtf 
letters  of  Zilia  had  fo  frequently  repeated,  had  wrote  thatv 
It  was  dictated  by  die  mod  lively  paffion.  By  retiring 
from  Zilia,  after  having  given  her  up  to  his  rival,  he  had 
completed  his  own  generofity  and  her  affliction.  She  ex- 
plained to  me  with  vivacity,  expreflions  that  were  more 
than  acknowledgments.  She  forced  me  to  admire  thole 
virtues,  which  at  that  cruel  mcir.ent  gave  m.e  mortal 
wounds.  My  grief  then  fought  aid  fromx  a  determined 
indifference.  I  foon  abicnted  myj'elf  from  Zilia.  I'illed 
with  delpair,  from  which  nothing  can  delivernie,  every 
refieftion  that  I  ir.;ike  is  a  new  miierv.  It  takes  from 
me  my  hope,  my  comfort.  I  have  loii  the  heart  of  Zi- 
lia.    That  heart I  cannot  hear  the  thoug-ht.    My 

rival  will  be  happy!  Ah!  it  is  te,a  much  to  think 
that  he  deferves  that  happinefs. 

Fiightiul  jealoufy  ?  Thy  cruel  ferpents  have  ftolen 
upon  my  he  -rt.  A  thoufand  fears :  Black  iufpicions  .... 
Zilia,  her  virtues,  her  tendeinds,  her  beauty  :  My  in- 
juftice  peihaps  j  all  agitate,  ail  torment  m.e.  I  am  loif. 
It  is  in  \  ain  that  my  grief  c(;nceals  itlelfunder  an  apparent 
t)anquilllty.  Fain  would  I  Ipeak,  complain,  accuie,  and 
yet  I  am  filent.  Wnat  can  I  fay  to  Zilia  ?  Can  I  re- 
pruach   her  v/ith  having  ii.ipiicd  D^terviile  with  a  love 

that 


THE   PERUVIA^i   PRINCESS,  165 

that  proceeds  from  virtue  ?  She  does  not  enjoy  his  ten- 
dcnieis.  But  why  heap  on  him  thole  prailes  ?  Why  in- 
ccHantly  repeating  his  eulogy  ?  .  .  .  .  Love,  thou  fource 
ot  my  plealures,  oushteft  thou  to  be  ^hat  of  my  miferies, 

LETTER  XXX. 

To  the  fame :  Azx'  sjealoiiiy  increafes :  hehelie'ves  XvLi.K 

to  be  unfaithful. 

WHERE  am  I,  Kanhuiicap  ?  Eywta;  torments; 
am  I  loliowed  ?  My  brain  burns  wirh  the  moft 
ci-uel  fuiy.  Zjlia.  perfidious  Ziiia,  pale  and  dejefted, 
laments  the  ab'er.ct;  cf  my  rival.  Dcterville  by  flying  has 
gained  t!:e  victon.'.  Heavens  !  On  whom  fliaii  my  rage 
fall  1  He  is  beloved,  Kanhuiicap,  all  things  tell  it  rae. 
The  inhuman  does  not  attempt  to  conceal  her  infidelity. 
Precious  remains  of  innocence  ;  though  (he  knows  her 
crime,  the  decefts  hypocrify.  I  read  her  pcruiy  in  her 
eyes.  Her  lips  even  dare  to  avow  it,  by  repeatuig  incel- 
fantly  the  name  that  I  abhor.  Whither  fhali  I  iiy  ?  When 
prefent  with  Ziiia  I  iiiffer  frightful  torments,  and  abient 
from  her  I  die. 

Wnen,  Ittixiced  by  the  fweetnefs  of  her  looks,  fhe  fpreads 
for  an  inftant  tranquillity  over  my  mind,  I  think.  Ihe  loves 
me.  That  thought  thi-ows  me  into  a  rapture  that  dtrprive  s 
me  of  reaibn .  I  recover  my  felf,  and  would  ipeak.  I  begin  j 
break  ofFj  am  filent.  The  ientiments  that  by  turns  pof- 
Ids  my  heart,  trouble  and  confound  me.  I  am  nnable 
to  exprel's  m.yrelf.  A  fatal  remembrance  j  Deterville  ; 
a  figh  from  Ziiia,  re-animates  thofe  tranfports  which  in 
vain  I  would  calm.  Even  the  fnades  of  night  cannot 
fcr^en  me  from  their  violence.  If  for  a  moment  1  give  my- 
fclf  up  to  fieep,  the  unfaithi^ul  Ziiia  fnatches  me  from  it. 
I  fee  Deterville  at  her  feet  5  fiie  hears  him  with  pleafure. 
Frighted  fleep  flies  far  from  me.  Tht  day  offers  me  frefh. 
griefs.  For  ever  devoted  to  the  iwry  of  iealouiy,  his 
fires  have  even  dried  up  my  tears.  Ziiia !  Ziiia !  How 
gieat  the  evils  that  fpring  from  lb  much  love  ?  I  adore 
thee  i  I  offend  thee  ;*  O  Heavens  1  I  luie  thee  ! 

LETTER 


l66  THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS. 

LETTER  XXXI. 

To  the  fame:  h.'zx  reproaches  iimfelf  rxith  the  effcBs  of 
hisjecdoufy. 

ZILTA,  love,  Dftenille,  fatal  jealcufy!  What  di- 
ftracHon  !  A  cloud  InJes  from  me  the  names  I  trace. 
Kanhuiicap,  I  no  longer  know  myfelf :  In  the  fury  of' 
the  bbckelt  jealoufy,  I  have  armed  mvfelf  with  darts, 
with  which  I  have  pierced  the  heart  of'Zilia.  She  had 
wrote  to  Detei-ville  j  the  letter  was  ftill  in  her  hand.  A 
faral  moment  dilbrdered  my  reafon.     I  formed  the  moft 

ralh  projeft My  promife,  the  religion  I  have 

embraced,  all  things  prompted  me.  The  moll:  trifling 
pretences  -appeared  to  me  to  be  as  laws  of  eqviity,  for 
■deferting  her.  I  have  pronounced  the  inhuman  lentence. 
Cruel  adieus  ....  What  a  moment  ....  Could  I  tlo 
it?  Yes,  Kanhuifcap,  I  fled  from  Ziha.  Ziliaatmy 
feet,  with  groans,  to  which  mine  were  juft  ready  to  re- 
ply   Deterville  !      W'iuit  a  remeinbi-ance  !     Yoi- 

lelTed  with  fuiy  I  flew  from  her  arms.  Buffoon,  vainly 
peififting,  I  would  1  etum  to  tjiem :  all  things  oppofe:  I 
darenotrciift.  Gods!  Wliat have T done?  Kowlhame- 
iul  is  the  diftreis !     How  iioiTible  the  repentance ! 

LETTER  XXXII. 

To  the  fame :    Aza  falls  again  into  fufpcions  cf  ZiLiA, 

ZuLMiRA  meditates  afignoL  <vengeance. 

CEASE  to  wonder  at  my  long  filence  :  Could  the 
cruel  ftate  of  m.y  heart  permit  me  to  infonn  yott 
fconer  of  my  ftate  !  Do  not  think,  that  diftrafted  by 
rcmorfe,  I  ftill  reproach  myfelf  with  unjuft  lulpicions. 
It  is  Ziila,  it  is  her  cruel  heart,  and  not  mire,  that  they 
ought  to  devour.  Yes,  Kanhuiicap,  herfighs,  hertears, 
and  groans,  were  nothing  but  etfe<?:s  of  fname:  traces 
that  virtue,  when  flying  from,  us,  ftiille:;ves  in  our  hearts- 
It  is  to  efface  them  that  fne  cruelly  refuies  to  fee  ine 
again.  Her  obftln.xy  has  forced  me  to  a  diftance  frora 
her.  Retired  to  the  extremity  of  the  fame  city,  unknown 
to  any  one,  totally  devoted  to  grief  and  misfortunes,  I 
iitbour  to  forget  the  ingrate  I  adore.  Ufelels  cares  !  La\'e 
in  our  deipite  flcals  into  our  hearts,  and  in  oui-  defpitc 

thejc 


THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS.  iGj 

there  he  n'ueliy  dwells.  In  vain  would  I  drive  him 
thence.  Jealouiy  tiiere  fuppoi  ts  him  :  and  when  I  would 
banilh  jealouiy,  iove  keeps  him  there.  Tne  wretched 
fpoic  ol  iheie  two  palTions,  my  foul  is  divided  between 
teudernels  und  rage.  Sometimes  I  reproach  my  l'ui])i- 
cions,  and  ibm^times  my  iove.  Can  I  be  charmed  with, 
an  ungrateful  woman  ?  Can  I  forget  her  whom  I  adore  ? 
But  whatever  may  be  my  love  for  ner,  nothing  can  ex- 
cufe  her.  Would  ihe  had  hated  me  i  \7e  can  pardon 
hatred  but  never  perfidy. 

The  i'olitudeandfriendfliip  of  Alonzo  have  difcovered 
that  retreat,  where  grief,  and  all  the  deftruclive  evils  to 
which  human  nature  is  fubjeft,  has  driven  me.  Zulmira 
loads  me  wiin  reproaches.  I  have  jult  received  her  let- 
ter. In  her  eyes  I  appear  as  an  ungrateful  wretch,  v/hom 
neither  prcmiies  nor  tears  can  recal.  I  have  only  freed 
her  from  the  arms  of  death  to  deliver  her  to  more  cruel 
torments.  She  will  come,  ine  fays,  and  iignalife  in 
France  her  fury  and  my  perfidy  :  avenge  her  father  and 
her  love.  Every  word  of  her  letter  is  a  dart  that  pierces 
my  bofom.  I  know  too  well  the  powers  of  defpair  not 
to  fear  the  effe6ls.  Ziiia  is  the  unfortunate  obje6l  of  her 
rage.  Bathed  in  her  blood  it  is,  that  Zulmira  will  ap- 
pear before  me.  Avenging  gods  1  is  it  thus  that  you 
leave  to  crimes  the  care  of  their  punidiments  ?  Hold, 
Zulmira,  on  me  pour  all  your  fury.  Let  the  apoftate  en- 
joy a  life  of  which  remorie  will  be  the  c  ha  ft  i  lenient.  Thus 
will  you  indeed  iignalize  your  vengeance.  But  O  hea- 
vci:;s  !  Zilia  hi  the  aims  of  a  rival.  I  groan,  wretch  that 
I  am,  and  tremble  for  her,  while  the  ingrate  is  betraying 
me.  Opprefied  by  the  weight  of  evils,  my  body  links 
under  its  weaknefs  j  whde  the  perfidious,  triumphing 
even  over  her  remorfe,  recals  my  rival.      Wretch  that 

I  ami    I  breathe I  ftill  ex  ill !    But  what  n.;- 

fery  to  exilt  when  we  only  live  to  i'uiter.  LET  LER 


l6%  THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS. 

LETTER  XXXIII. 

To  the  fame:  mnoceiice  of  Zihi\.    Generofity  cf  7,ul- 

MiRA.     Defpair  of  Aza. 

WHAT  have  I  laid  ? '  What  horror  furrounds  me  ? 
Learn  my  Ihame,  Kanhuilcap,  and  ii:  it  can  he, 
my  remorie,  before  you  know  my  crime.  Odious  to 
myfelf,  I  will  now  expofe  it  to  your  fight.  Ceaie  to  la- 
ment my  misfortunes ;  and  make  them  complete  by  your 
hatred.  Zilia  is  void  of  all  guilt.  To  reiie61:  on  it  is 
even  an  iniury  to  her.  You  know  my^ufpicions  ^  their 
injuftice  will  tell  you  my  miiery,  which  can  never  have 
an  end  :  fomething  unlocked  for  will  lor  ever  aiife.  Af- 
ter the  perhdy  or  Zilia,  could  you  have  thought  that 
heaven  would  have  given  m.e  over  to  new  torments :  Could 
you  have  thought  that  her  innocence,  which  ought  to 
make  me  happy,  would  have  been  to  me  the  lource  of 
the  moil  bitter  toiments  ?  To  what  errors  have  I  been  a 
prey  ?  What  clouds  have  obfciued  my  reafon  ?  Zilia 
could  deceive  me !  I  could  think  it  I  She  will  fee  me  no 
mere.  My  remembrance  is  odious  to  her.  Slie  loved 
me  too  much,  not  to  hate  me.  Abandoned  to  my  hor- 
rid mifery,  friendfliip,  confidence,  nothing  can  alleviate 
niy  miferies.  They  will  poifcn  thy  heart  with  their  ve- 
nom, and  mine  will  yet  find  no  relief.  In  vain  does 
Zulmira,  diveiled  of  her  fury,  tell  me  that  fne  has  offered 
it  as  a  facrifice  to  my  repole  and  felicity.  Retired  to  a 
hcufe  of  virgins,  fhe  has  confecrated  to  her  God,  and 
to  my  happinefs,  her  life,  and  the  flower  of  her  days. 
Zulmua,  generous  Zulmira,  canft  thou  renounce  thy 
vengeance  ?  Ah !  if  thy  heart  were  cruel,  what  pka- 
fure  would  it  find  in  my  horrid  mlleries  !  It  is  then  only 
to  myfelf,  to  the  bafenels  of  my  fentiments,  that  I  owe 
the  misfortunes  which  I  endure.  Nothing  was  wanting 
to  make  me  completely  miferable,  but  to  be  myfelf  the 
caufe  of  it:  and  beheld  I  am.  Zilia  ioved  me;  I  law 
it  J  my  happineis  was  fure.  Her  tendernefs  !  her  fenti- 
ments !  my  felicity!  ought  they  to  have  been  facriflced 
to  a  bale  fufpicion  ?  O  frightful  defpair !  I  fled  from 
Zilia,  It  was  I  •  •  •  Gentrous  friend,  can  you  con- 
ceive 


THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS,  76^9 

ccive  the  ftate  in  which  I  now  am  ?  Can  I  conceive  it  my- 
felf?  Remorfe,  love,  delpair,  contend  tor  my  heart,  that 
they  may  devour  it. 

LETTER  XXXIV. 
To  ZiLiA :  AzA  forces  himfelf  to  a  fubmijfioni  and  ac- 
kno-jcledges  his  injufiice  to  Zilia. 

THE  dread  of  difpleaiing  you  ftiJl  keeps  in  my  trem- 
bling hands  the  knots  which  I  form.  Thele 
knots  which  were  once  confolation  and  joy  to  you, 
Ziha,  are  now  twined  by  griet  and  defpair.  Do  not 
iniagine  that  I  would  conceal  my  crime  from  your  eyes. 
Diltra^led  with  anxiety  for  having  belitved  you  un- 
faithful, how  fhcuid  I  preiume  to  juftify  it  ?  But  am  I 
not  liifficiently  punilhed  ?  What  remorle!  ....  The 
rcmorle  of  a  lover  who  adores  you.  Ah!  you  would 
hate  me !  Have  I  not  rather  m.erited  vour  contempt 
than  your  hatred?  Reflect  for  a  moment  on  all  my 
misfortunes.  Barbarians  fnatched  thee  from  my  love, 
at  the  moment  it  ftiould  have  been  crowned  with 
fucceis.  Armed  for  thy  defence,  I  fell,  and  was  loaded 
with  their  baip  fetters.  Carried  to  their  country,  the 
waves  on  which  we  floated,  fupported  for  a  time,  it  is 
ti-ue,  all  my  hopes.  I  lived  only  by  them.  My  heart 
went  with  you.  Thy  ravifliers  being  fwallovved  up  by 
the  fea,  plunged  me  hito  the  moft  ciiiel  error.  That 
which  I  thought  had  deilroyed  thee,  could  not  deftroy 
my  love.  Grief  augn>cnted  my  paflion.  I  would  have 
died  to  follow  thee.  I  only  lived  to  avenge  thee.  All 
things  I  efi'aj-ed.  Even  my  very  oaths  I  would  have  fa- 
criflccd,  and  have  \initcd  myfelf,  in  defiance  of  a  thou- 
fand  remcries,  with  a  Spanilh  woman,  and  have  pur- 
chafed  at  that  price,  my  liberty  and  my  vengeance. 
When  on  a  fudden,  O  unhoped  for  felicity !  I  learned 
that  you  lived,  and  tnat  you  Itili  loved  me.  O  too  piea- 
iing  remembrance !  I  flew  to  thee  j  to  happinefs  the  m.oft 
pure,  the  moft  ecflatic  ....  Ah!  vam  hope:  ci-uel 
rcverfe !  Scarce  had  I  enjoyed  the  firft  tranfports  with 
which  thy  fight  infplred  me,  than  a  fatal  poifon,  with 
which  thy  heait  is  too  puic  to  know  the  pangs  j  jealoufy 
jp  feizcd 


170  THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS, 

feized  my  foul :  his  moft  rancorous  I'erpents  have  de- 
voured my  heart  j  that  heart  which  was  only  formed 
for  the  love  of  thee.  The  moft  amiable  of  virtues,  gra- 
titude, was  the  objeiSl  of  my  fufpicions.  That  which 
you  owed  to  Deterville,  I  thought  he  had  obtamed  :  that 
your  virtue  had  been  confounded  with  your  duty.  I 
thought  ...  It  was  thefe  fatal  ideas  that  troubled  our 
fir  It  traniports.  You  was  unable,  even  in  the  bofoni 
oi  love,  to  forget  friendfliip.  I  forgot  virtue.  The 
eulogies  of  Deterville ;  his  letter ;  the  fcntiments  it  ex- 
prelled :  the  concern  it  gave  you  :  the  grief  you  fliewed 
for  the  lots  of  your  deliverer  5  all  thefe  I  attributed  to 
the  lentiments  that  I  felt,  and  that  I  ftlll  feel,  to  love. 

I  concealed  in  my  bofom  the  fires  that  confumed  it. 
What  was  the  confequence  ?  From  fufpicion  I  foon 
pafledto  a  certainty  of  your  perfidy.  I  meditated  even 
a  punifliment  for  it.  I  would  not  employ  reproaches :  I 
did  not  think,  vou  worthy  ot  them.  I  will  not  endeavour 
to  conceal  my  crimes  from  you  :  truth  is  even  as  dear  to 
me  as  my  love. 

I  would  return  to  Spain  to  perforai  a  promlfe  to  which 
my  former  oath  had  engaged  me.  Repentance  ibon  fol- 
lowed that  rage  which  had  declared  to  you  my  crime,  j 
vainly  endeavoured  to  undeceive  you,  with  regard  to  a 
refolution  that  love  had  deftroyed  almoftas  foon  as  it  was 
formed.  Thy  determination  not  to  lire  me  re-lumined 
my  fury.  Again  given  up  to  jesloufy  ;  I  fled  from  you  ; 
but  far  from  going  to  Madrid  to  conlvn-nmate  a  crime  that 
my  foul  detelled  ;  though  you  was  induced  to  believe  it : 
finking  under  the  weight  of  my  misfortvmes,  I  foughfin 
folitude,  in  an  ellrangement  with  m  ankind,  that  peace 
which  tranquillity  of  mind  alone  can  afford.  Overcome 
by  my  diltrefs,  the  powers  of  life  for  look  me.  A  long 
time  abfent  from  thee,  fliall  I,  in  fpite  of  myfelf,  avow 
it  to  thee,  Ziiia  ?  All  my  faculties  weve  exerted  in  re- 
viling thee.     I  thought   I   faw  you,  pleaied  with  my 

flight,  recal  my  rival,     I  thought  I  faw Alas  ! 

you  know  my  offence;  but  you  do  not  knowmy punifii- 
ment :  it  e/ea  furpafles  my  c/ime.     Ah  Zilla,  if  the  ex- 

Ci;i5 


THE    PERUVIAN    PRINCESS.  171 

cefs  of  love  could  efFcil  it :  no,  I  can  no  more  be  guilty. 
Do  not  imagine  *:hat  I  intend  to  move  thy  pityj  that 
were  too  little  foi  my  tendcrnefs.  Zilia,  give  me  back 
your  love,  or  give  me  nothing.  Liften  to  the  love  that 
ought  Itill  to  Ipeak  in  thy  heart :  fuffrr  me  in  thy  pre- 
lence  again  to  re-lumine  that  fire  which  thy  jiift  refent- 
menthas  extinguifned.  Some  fpark  may  yet  be  found 
in  the  aflies  of  that  love  vi-hich  you  once  nouri/hed  for 
Aza.  Ziiia,  Zilia,  thou  dirc6lor  of  my  fate  j  I  have 
confeffed  to  thee  my  crime.  If  thy  pardon  doth  not  ef- 
face it,  it  muft  dill  be  punifhed.  My  death  ihallbe  the 
chaftifemtnt.  Too  happy,  inexorable  !  if  at  lead  I  caa 
expire  at  thy  feet ! 

LETTER  XXXV. 

To  KanhuiscaP:  T.i'LiA  gi-jss  up  her  hzart  to  Aza. 

T^heir  approaching  return  to  their  nati-ve  country, 

WOULD  that  by  (Iriking  thy  mind  with  furprife,  I 
could  communicate  to  thy  heart  that  joy  With 
which  mine  now  pants.  O  happlnefs  !  O  tranfport  ! 
Kanhuifcap,  Zilia  has  giv^m  me  up  her  heart.  She 
loves  me.  Roving  in  the  ravifliments  of  my  love,  I  died 
n.t  iier  feet  the  nioft  tender  tears.  Her  looks,  her  fighs, 
her  tranfports,  ai'e  the  only  interpreters  of  our  love  and 
our  felicity.  Imagine,  if  you  can,  cur  joys:  that  mo- 
ment conftantly  prefents  to  my  fight  j  that  m.oment  .  .  , 
No,  fuch  love,  anguiih,  and  deliglit,  are  not  to  be  ex- 
prdll'd  by  vvordi.  Her  eyes,  her  animattd countenance, 
told  me  her  love,  her  anger,  my  fhame  .  .  .  Site  turned 
pale.  Faint,  and  fpeechlefs,  llie  funk  into  my  anns. 
But  as  the  flames  excited  by  the  vvinJs,  io  my  heart,  a- 
gitaced  by  fear,  burnt  with  greater  violence.  My  head 
reclining  on  herbolbm,  I  breathed  that  fire  cflovew.iich 
animated  her  life,  and  united  it  with  mine.  She  died 
and  inilantly  revived  ....  Zdia,  my  belc/ed  Zilia! 
Into  what  intoxicatng  pleafures  haft  thoii  plunged  ti:2 
hippy  Aza !  No,  Kanhuifcap,  you  can  v.^'-^  conceive 
our  happinefs  :  come  and  bear  witnef?;  to  it.  Nothing 
faou'd  be  wanting  to  my  felicity.  Tne  Frenchman  who 
dfllvers  you  this  letter  wUI  bripgyou  bithciv     you  wii| 


t-i  THE   PERUVIAN    PRINCESS. 

then  behold  my  Zilia.  My  felicity  will  every  moment 
increaie.  The  ftoiy  of  our  prefcnt  happinefs,  as  well  as 
t  lat  of  our  palt  misfortunes  (far  be  they  removed  from 
us)  has  reached  evfen  to  the  throne.  The  generous  mo- 
narcii  of  the  Frencli  nation,  has  ordered  certain  fliips  that 
are  going  to  encounter  with  the  Spaniards  in  our  feas,  to 
carry  us  to  Guitto.  We  foon  again  ihall  fee  our  native 
land  }  that  muuniful  country  fo  dear  to  our  defues  : 
thofe  abodes,  O  Zilia!  where  fprang  our  firft  delights, 
thviighs  and  mine.  May  they  be  witneiles  !  may  they 
celebrate !  may  they  augment !  if  it  be  poflibk;  cur 
prefent  felicity  .  .  .  But  I  goto  Zilia.  My  dear  friend, 
love  cannot  make  me  forget  friend/hip,  but  fricndihip 
keeps  me  too  long  from  love.  Thoie  delightful  tianf- 
ports  that  ravifh  my  Ibul,  it  is  in  thy  enjoyments  that  I 
have  again  found  life  ...  I  am  loft  in  the  excels  of  hap- 
pmels;  in  ecltatic  bllfs!  Zilia  is  again  my  own  ^  fhe 
v/dks  my  coming  j   I  fly  to  her  arms  i 


TKE  END. 


BELISAPvIUS. 


A  TALE. 


M.MARMOXTEL 


MEMBER  OF   THE  FRENCH   ACADExMY. 

*«qc  Dilrcr,  fi  quaxido  impetjim  capit  (Deus)  fpettandi  magnos  viras 
coliuitaiites  cum  aiiqua  caiamitate. 

SENECA  tie  Frovid. 


Cnolie'?  ^Dition. 


i^^# 


^ciS^ 


EMBELLTSHED   WTTH   =UPERB    ENGRAVINGS 

printed  for  C.  COOKE,  No.  17,  Paternofter-Row 
Anci  Iblri   by  all  the  BookleUers  in 
Great-Britain  aiid 
IrdaAd* 


THE 

AUTHOR'S  PREFACE. 

1  AM  certain,  and  ought  not  to  dinTernble,  that  the  world  may 
look  upon  the  foundation  ot  this  lictle  performance,  rather  as  a 
popular  opinion  than  an  hiftorical  truth.  But  this  opinion  ha^ 
been  {o  prevalent,  and  the  idea  of  the  blind  and  begging  ifelifarius 
is  become  fo  familiar,  that  he  is  fcarcely  ever  viewed  but  in  tne 
lijht  I  have  pkced  him. 

Jn  every  thing  dl\  except  a  few  particulars,  1  have  faithfully 
fjllowed  hiftory,  and  Procopiua  has  been  my  guid.-.  But  I  have 
not  piid  the  lean:  regard  to  tna:  fcandalous  libel  which  is  afcribed 
to  him  under  the  tide  oi  Anecdotes  or  Secret  Hipory.  That  inai- 
gelted  mafs  of  grofs  abul'e  and  palpable  faifehoo'^i  is  to  me  iuliicient 
evidence  that  this  is  not  the  work  of  Procopius,  but  the  product 
offome  paltry  declairaer,  equally  wicked  and  vreak. 

No  one  cr'the  writers  in  the  age  of  Procopius  who  followed  him, 
for  the  fpace  of  five  hundred  y^ars,  make  mention  of  thefe  anec- 
dotes. Agathias,  contemporary  with  our  author,  in  enumerating 
hi  J  works,  favs  not  a  v/ord  of  this.  They  choofe  to  conceal  it, 
they  may  tell  me  ;  yet  a:  leail  three  hundred  years  afcer  it  ought 
to  have  been  publi(h-d  :  the  learned  Photius  ihoald  have  kno\va 
it :  but  it  is  certain  he  never  did.  Suidas,  a  writer  of  the  eleventh 
century,  is  the  firft  who  gives  this  contemptible  fatire  to  Proco- 
pius, and  the  moft  part  of  the  learned,  wichout  further  inquiry, 
have  repeated  wha:  Suidas  hath  faid.  Some,  however,  have 
doubted  that  this  was  the  work  of  our  author,  otheis  have  flatly 
denied  it :  and  of  this  nui-nber  is  Eichelius  in  the  preface  and  re- 
marks on  his  edition  of  tnac  book.  He  fets  out  with  fhevi^ing, 
that  it  is  neither  true  nor  probable  that  Procopius  could  be  the 
suthofj  and  adds,  thaj  fappofing  he  were,  fuch  abufive,  fhame- 
ful,  and  ridiculous  declamation  was  utterly  unworthy  of  credit. 
It  is  indeed  ailoniihing,  tha":  the  illuftrious  author  of  the  Spirit  of 
Laws  fhould  pay  fuch  refpecl  co  a  iibel  manifeitly  forged.  I  v.-ell 
know  the  weight  of  fuch  an  authority  5  but  even  that  muft  y ieii 
to  the  force  of  truth,  is  it  indeed  credible  that  a  ftatefman,  a  man 
much  refpe<fted  by  the  age  in  which  he  lived,  merv.ly  for  the 
pleafure  of  traducing  them  who  loaded  him  with  favours,  fhoulJ 
choofe  fo  far  to  difgrace  himfelfas  to  oblige  pofterity  to  conlider 
him  either  as  a  malicious  libeller,  or  guilty  of  the  mcft  fervjls 
fiattery  ?  Js  it  credible  that  a  writer,  in  otherrefpefts  lo  judicious, 
could  have  been  fo  totsUy  loft  to  fenfe  andfhame,  as  to  defire  pofterity 
to  take,  on  his  bare  afiertion,  Juftinian,  the  wlie  and  virtuous  old 
man,  for  abefotted  fellov/,  for  a  crazy,  cio\\niiih  idiot?  even  that 
very  Juftinian  who,  from  the  moft  obfcure  and  m.eaneft  ftation  in 
the  army,  by  his  valour  and  extraordinary  talents,  raifed  himfeif 
to  the  highefl  ofhce  and  honour,  and,  at  laft,  by  the  joint  faf- 
A  z  fra£S3 


IT'  THE    AtTTMOR'.S    PREFACE, 

fragesofthefenate,  the  people,  and  the  army,  was  elected  em- 
peror. _  Who  can  believe  that  a  man,  who  had  written  the  hiftory 
of  his  time  with  fomuch  candour,  dignity  and  knowledge,  could 
thus  lay  of  juftinLan,  "  that  he  was  ftupid  and  fluggifh  as  an  ais, 
««  which  lufrers  itlilf  to  be  led  by  the  halter,  and  at  the  fame  time 
<'  pricks  up  irs  ears ;  that  he  was  not  a  man,  but  a  fury  ;  that  his 
<'  m')ther  boafted  of  having  conamerce  with  a  demon  before  fhe 
*«  conceived  him  ;  and  that  he  had  done  fo  much  mifchicf  to  the 
*'  empire,  that  no  age  could  produce  fo  many  nor  fo  great  calami- 
<•'  ties?"  isit  to  be  believed  that, after  havingreprefented'Belifarius 
as  an  accomplifiied  hero,  graced  with  triumphs  and  loaded  with 
glory,  he  durft  prefume  to  paint  him  weak  and  wicked,  defpifed 
by  the  whole  world,  and  treated  as  a  madiTian  j  and  all  this  at  the 
■Very  time  cf  his  greateTt  glory,  when  by  chafing  the  Kuns  from 
Thrace,  he  was  acknowledged  the  faviour  of  the  empire  ? 

Thofe  wlio  imagine  they  can  trace  in  the  original  Greek,  the 
ftyle  of  Procopius,  do  they  at  the  fame  time  dilccve.r  his  fagaciry 
and  goodfenle?  Sappofehim  mad,  wicked,  and  ungiateful  to 
his  benefaftors,  yet  could  he  think  childilh  dcclamaujns  alone 
fufficient  borh  to  recal  his  former  panegyrics,  and  cverthrow  the 
fafts  on  which  they  were  built  ?  That  the  hiftorian  Procopius 
fliouU  ferioufly  engage  to  prove  in  form,  that  Juftinian  and  his 
minifters  were  not  men,  but  demons  in  human  flir.pe  ?  Ofiuch 
inceniiftent  f  jUy  I  flaould  hardly  believe  him  capable,  though  all 
his  contemporary  writers  had  attefted  it:  muchgreaterreafonhave 
I  r;ow  to  doubt,  v/hen  the  fadt  depends  foiely  upon  the  dubious 
tt-ftimony  of  a  fmgle  man  ;  of  a  man  who  lived  five  hundred  years 
afcer  him. 

The  work  falfely  afcribed  to  Procopius  I  have  not  at  all 
minded  :  it  is  only  his  authentic  hiftory  I  have  corfulted,  and 
from  thence  taken  the  character  of  my  hero,  his  modefty,  his 
gocdnefs,  his  affability,  his  benevolence,  h's  exceflive  artleilhefs  ; 
but,  above  all,  that  unparalleled  humanity,  the  foundation  of  all 
his  other  virtues,  and  which  made  him  the  objeft  of  the  people's 
adoration.  <'  The  citizens  of  Byzantium,''  fays  he,  "took  the 
«'  greatcll  pleafure  in  looking  upon  Belifarius  as  he  walked  daily 
''  forth  to  the  forum.  A  comely  and  graceful  peifon,  a  noble 
«'  and  majeftic  ftature  adorned  this  hero.  So  humble,  fo  affable, 
*'  fo  eafy  of  accefs,  that  in  thefe  things  he  refem.bled  one  of  the 
«<  loweft  rank.  In  munificence  towards  his  foldiers  he  exceeded 
*«  all.  Towardsthelabourersand  peafants  his  care  and  indulg'jnce 
«'  was  fuch,  that  when  Belifarius  led,  they  followed  and  felt 
<«  no  pain.  The  corn  whilft  in  thp  fields  he  carefully  protedled 
*'  from  the  injuries  of  the  cavalry  ;  and  not  a  foldier  duril  couck 
<«  the  other  fruits  without  the  confent  of  the  owners." 


^i^S^rM:&§- 


"X  ^^-^ 


BELISARIUS. 


CHAP.  I. 

IN  the  age  of  Juftlnlan,  the  empire,  weakened  by  long 
and  violent  liruggles,  haftened  to  its  ruin.  Everf 
part  of  the  adminiftration  was  neglected  :  laws  were  dif- 
regarded,  the  finances  iquandered,  and  inilitrary  dilcipline 
was  totally  deipifed.  The  emptror,  weary  of  war,  pur- 
chafed  with  his  gold  ailiamciui  peace  from  his  enem.ies  j 
whillt  his  few  remaining  troops  ioirered  in  inaction,  uie- 
lefs,  yet  expenfive  to  the  Itate  ;  and  their  comm.anders, 
wholly  devoted  to  pleafure,  renewed  their  warlike  ideas, 
and  at  the  fame  time  difpeilcd  the  languors  of  idlenefs  in 
the  exercife  of  the  chafe. 

One  night,  after  this  diverfion,  when  a  few  of  thefe 
young  captains  were  fupping  together  at  a  callle  in 
Thrace,  a  blind  old  man,  led  by  a  child,  ftocd  at  the 
door,  entreating  their  hofpitality.  Youth  is  eafiiy  moved 
to  compaflion  j  they  cauied  him  to  enter.  It  was  now  au- 
tumn ;  and  the  cold,  which  was  already  fet  in,  had  fcized 
the  old  man  J  tluy  therefore  ordered  him  to  (it  by  the  fire. 

Supper  was  not  yet  ended ;  the  chiefs  were  in  iull  fpinrs ; 
and  their  converfation  turned  on  the  evils  of  the  itate. 
This  was  indeed  a  large  field  for  cenfure  ;  and  here  dil- 
appointed  vanity  gave  itfelf  loofe  reins.  Each  exaggerated 
his  pad  a6lions  ;  and  boailed  of  what  he  might  Itiil  liave 
done,  had  not  his  fervices  been  deipifed  and  his  talents 
dilVegarded.  Every  evil  that  befel  the  empire,  in  their 
dlimation,  was  owing  to  the  neglect  of  placip.or  fuch  men 
as  themfelves  at  the  head  of  aif:iiis.  Thus  did  they  go- 
vern the  world  over  their  cups,  and  each  glais  brought 
an  increafe  of  infallibiiiiy  to  their  fchemes. 

The  old  man,  a.ting  at  the  corner  of  the  fire,  liftened 

and  fmlled  with  pity.  One  of  them  perceived  it,  and  thus 

louke : — «  And  have  you,  good  man,  the  preiumption  to 

treat  what  we  are  laying  as  ridiculous:''  iNot  as  ridiculous,' 

A   3  replied. 


6  BELISARIUS. 

replied  the  old  man,  *  but  as  a  little  trifling:,  as  is  natural 
to  your  age.'  Thereply  confounded  them.  *  You  imagine 
you  have  reafcn  to  complain,' continued  he,  *  and  I  alio 
think  it  is  wrong  to  neglefl  you ;  but  this  is  the  lead  of 
cur  evils.  Lament,  indeed,  that  the  empire  has  loft  its 
power  and  its  glory;  that  a  prince,  woin  out  vvich  cares 
and  old  age,  is  obliged  to  fee  with  another's  eyes,  and 
to  employ  unfaithful  hands  in  his  fervice.  But,  in  this 
general  calamity,  is  it  worthwhile  to  think  of  one's  felt  ?' 
'  In  your  time,'  replied  one  at  the  table,'  was  itthecultom 
for  people  not  to  be  concerned  for  themfelves  ?  Well,  what 
oi  that ;  times  change,  for  now  it  is  the  chief  care.' — 'Sf> 
much  the  worfe,'  faid  the  old  man ;  *  and  if  this  then  be 
y .  urcafe,  to  neglecf  you  is  to  do  you  juftice.' — <  I  s  it  to  in- 
lult  people,'  faid  the  youth,  *  that  you  afk  their  hofpitality ?' 
*  I  do  not  infult  you,'  replied  the  old  man  ;  '  I  fpeak  as  a 
fi  lend,  ajid  1  pay  for  my  fanctuary  by  telling  you  the 
truth.' 

The  young  Tiberius,  afterwards  the  virtuous  emperor, 
then  in  the  company,  was  ftruck  with  the  venerable  af- 
ptSi  and  gray  hairs  of  this  blind  nian.  *  Yen  fpeak  to  us,' 
faid  he,  *  with  wifdom  ;  but  with  a  little  too  much  fcverity  : 
you  require  us  to  devote  ourfelves  to  our  country  ;  this, 
to  be  lisre,  is  an  exalted  virtue  ;  but,  at  the  fame  time,  it 
isrioduty.' — <  It  isauuty  you  owe  your  country,' replied 
the  old  man  with  firmnefs ;  '  or  rather  it  is  theloundatioii 
of  your  duties  and  of  every  militaiy  virtue.  Whoever  de- 
votes hijnlelf  to  the  fervice  of  his  country,  fhould  fuppofe 
her  inrdvent ;  for  what  he  hazards  for  her  is  intlUmable. 
But  he  muft,  at  the  f-;me  time,  expeft  to  fiiid  her  ungrate- 
ful J  for  whoever  looks  for  a  reward  for  a  free  and  gene- 
rous facrince  of  himielf  is  fcolilhly  inconfiftent.  There  is 
iio.'hirg  but  the  love  of  glory,  and  an  enthufialirj  for  vir- 
tue, that  is  worthy  of  animating  you.  And  what  mat- 
ters it,  then,  how  your  ferv.ces  are  received  ?  Your  re- 
ccrnpeni'e  is  independent  on  the  caprice  of  a  ininrfter,  or 
the  ililceriiment  of  the  ibvereign.  The  common  Ibldier, 
indeed,  may  be  induced  by  the  hopes  of  booty  j  he  may 
liazard  his  iiie  for  a  plttt-.nce  to  maintain  it.    Tins  I 

readily 


BELISARIUS.  7 

readily  comprehend  ;  but  you,  iir,  born  to  affluence,  with 
whom  to  live  is  to  enjoy,  when  you  relinqufih  the  ibrter 
fcenes  of  litb  to  undergo  fatigue  and  labour,  oppofing 
yourklf  voluntarily  to  various  perils,  can   you  derogate 
lb  tar  from  the  generous  a6l,  as  to  defire  v.'ages  tor  it  ? 
It  is  depreciated  by  payment ;  who  attends  to  the  advan- 
tage of  lalary,  is  a  mercenary  Have ;  nor  is  the  cafe  altered 
by  the  quantity  of  reward  ;  the  man  v.'ho  apprifes  his  ta- 
lents, and  converts  them  to  profit,  is  to  the  full  as  venal 
as  the  foul  that  fells  itielf  for  a  piece  of  money.   What  I 
have  faid  of  pecuniary  recompenle,  I  affirm  alfo  of  the 
alluremen::s  of  ambition  :   honours,  titles,  rank.,  and  the 
favoui's  of  the  fovereign,  what  are  thev  but  wages  ?  He 
who  deflres  them  'has  his  hire.  Wemuiteither  give  orleli 
ourfeives  :  there  is  no  otlier  alternative.  The  former  is  tlie 
a(5l  of  freedom,  the  latter  of  flavery  :  you,  gentlemen,  will 
incline  to  thit  which  agrees  bcft:  with  the  propenuties  of 
your  heart. ■" — '  At  this  rate,  honeft  friend,'  faid  the  com- 
pany, *  you  pi  ;ce  fovereigns  in  a  very  eafy  condition.'— 
*  Were  my  difcourfe  addrelTed  to  fovereigns,' returned  the 
blind  ftranger,  <  I  ftiouldtell  them,  that  as  it  is  your  duty 
to  cbl'erve  a  difinterel^ed   conduct,  fo  it  is  theirs   to  he 
juil  and  upright.' — '  What,  then,  is  i:  jult,  do  you  think, 
to  give  merit  its  due  recompenfe  ?' — '  Moit  certainly  it  is  j 
but  he  to  whom  fervice  is  rendered,  is  to  difpenfe  the  re- 
ward 5  and  if  he  omit  to  do  it,  it  is  his  misfortune.  But 
to  go  a  little  further:  which  of  us.  in  weighing  our  o-.vn 
merits,  can  be  fine  of  holding  the  balance  with  an  even 
hand?  To  illuftrate  this;  in  your  condition,  forinftance, 
in  order  that  every  body  fhould  be  dealt  v/ith  to  his  fatis- 
faition,  it  would  be  neceii'ary  that  each  ftiould  command 
in  chief,  and  then  what  becomes  of  fubordina' ion?  This, 
you  fee,  is  imprasSlicable.     Let  me,  then,  ailume  it  as  a 
truth,  that  government  .may  incidentally  want  penetration, 
and  even  equity }   but  ftiil  it  will  be  more  difceraing  and 
wife  in  its  appointments,  than  if  it  were  implicitly  to  take 
the  recommendation  each  of  you  would  give  in  favour  of 
himielf.' — '  And  vs'ho  are  you  that  talk  to  us  in  this  ftrain  ?' 
lays  the  young  mafter  of  the  feaft,  with  an  elevation  cf 
vgice. — '  Bclliarius,"  replied  the  old  man.  Th« 


?•  5;elisarius. 

The  furprife  occafioned  by  this  dilcovery  need  not  be 
expreffed  :  the  alionifliment  and  confufion  that  feized  their 
young  niincis  at  the  name  of  Belilarius,  at  the  name  of 
lijm  who  had  To  olten  conquered  in  three  parts  of  the 
globe,  will  fuggelt  themfcives  to  every  imagination. 
Tlie  whole  company  remained  motionlefs,  and  a  deep  fi- 
leiice  marked  the  reipeft  with  which  tiiey  wireimpreflTed, 
Reverential  awepOifefied  them  ;  and,  forgetting  that  Beli- 
farius  was  blind,  not  one  of  them  dared  to  lift  up  his 
eyes.  Tiberius  at  length  broke  fiicnce  :  *  Thou  venerable 
man,'raidhe,'how  nnjull  and  cruel  has  fortune  been  to  thee, 
to  thee,  whom  the  whole  emu  re,  for  thirty  years  together, 
felt  the  author  of  its  glorv  and  its  flouriflung  condition  j 
till,  at  lengdi,  wicked  malice  framed  a  charge  of  treafon  • 
and  revolt !  Thou  art  that  hero,  whom  the  pcrfecuting 
rage  ot  envious  men  loaded  with  irons,  and  barbaroufly 
deprived  of  the  organs  of  fight !  And  yet,  thus  bafely 
tJ-eated,  you  can  ftill  perievere  to  inculcate  the  principles 
of  public  Ipirit  and  difinterelted  love  of  country  V — '  And 
from  whom,'  fays  Belifarius,  '  would  you  expeft  to  hear 
the  lelTons  of  virtue  ?  Are  the  flavesof  court  favours  to  hi 
yourmorrdiltsr' — 'Oh!  Iham.eindclibler  fays  Tiberius,  in- 
terrupting him  ;  '  unparalleled  ingratitude  !  Pofterity  will 
fcarce  believe  the  monlircusllory  V — '  It  muft  not  be  dif- 
lembed,' replied  Belifarius,  '  that  my  enemies  did  take  me 
unprovided,  and  i'urprile  me  a  little  :  I  never  expefted  to 
be  injured  to  that  cxcefs  of  outrage.  I  had,  however,  been 
familiar  with  the  ideaol  dying  in  the  -ervice  of  the  empire  j 
and  whether  dead  or  blind,  the  difference  is  inconliderable. 
Devoted  to  my  country,  I  did  not  except  my  eyes.  AH 
that  I  hold  dearer  than  my  eyes  or  my  life  ftill  remains 
to  me  5  thehonourof  my  character  is  inviolate,  and,  above 
all,  the  virtues  of  my  heart  are  Hill  mine,unconqueied  by 
my  enemies.  The  actions  of  my  life  may  indeed  be  ef- 
faced fiom  the  memory  of  a  court ;  but  the  memory  of 
mankind  will  be  more  retentive  j  and  if  it  fliould  net,  I 
have  the  confcious  remembrance,  and  that  is  fufficient.' 
The  company,  now  ihuck  with  adnuration,  foiiclted 

BeiiUrius  to  make  one  at  the  table.  '  Excule  me,  gentle^ 

men,' 


BELlSARlUf.  * 

men,'  fays  he,  '  at  my  age  the  belt  place  is  the  fare  fide,* 
Every  civility  was  tenatred  to  him,  and  he  was  much  im- 
portuned to  accept  the  belt  bed  in  the  cailie  :  he  contented 
himlelf  wiih  a  little  itraw.  '  I  have  often  flcpt  harder,'  lays 
he  :  'but  this  child,  who  guides  me,  I  recommend  to  your 
good  offices  J  for  he  is  more  delicate  than  I  am.' 

The  next  morning,  as  foon  as  there  was  light  enough, 
for  his  guitie,  B>;iiiarius  departed,  before  his  iioiis,  fati- 
gued with  the  (port  of  .the  preceding  day,  were  yet  a- 
wake.  Being  inicrmed  when  they  rcfe  that  the  hero  had 
left  the  place,  they  propofed  to  go  in  queit  of  him,  in  or- 
der to  p-.ovide  him  with  a  carriage,  and  whatever  con- 
veniences he  might  want.  '  No,'  fays  Tiberius,  *  Lhat  will 
be  labour  in  vain  j  Belifarius  has  nc:  conceived  eHieem 
enough  fer  us,  to  mak.e  him  willing  to  receive  an  obli- 
gation.' 

The  young  Tiberius  had  fenfibilltyand  refiecrion;  oi> 
his  mind  an  exalted  virtue  in  the  very  extren^e  or  misfor- 
tune made  the  decpcft  imprefT.on.  '  Never,'  lays  he  to  one 
of  his  friends  who  came  to  him  from  the  emperor, '  never 
fliall  I  forget  laft  nigiit's  folemn  icene  1  never  fliall  the 
words  of  the  venerable  man  be  eraled  from  m.y  memory. 
Humiliating  as  he  was,  yet  hisleffonhas  taught  me  what 
a  talk  remains  upon  my  hands,  if  I  afpire  to  the  dignity 
of  my  nature,  if  I  mean  to  be  a  man.'  An  acconnt  of 
this  incident  reached  the  ear  of  Jullin;an,  v.-no  dehred  au 
interview  v/ith  Tibeiius. 

Tiberius  related  the  whole  with  accuracy  to  the  era- 
peror;  '  and  then,'  continued  he,  *  it  is  impoiilblc,  fir,  that 
lb  elevated  a  mind  could  defcend  to  the  bafenefs  oi  the 
confplracy  laid  to  his  charge  :  I  v/ould  engage  my  life 
that  he  is  innocent,  if  a  life  like  mine  were  worthy  of  be- 
ing furety  for  fo  illultricus  a  character.' — *  I  v/ili  fee  him, 
and  confer  with  him:  in  the  condition  of  blindnefs,  to. 
which  he  is  reduced,  this  will  not  be  impracticable.  Since 
his  releafe  from  priibn,  he  cannot  have  removed  himfeif 
to  any  confideraoie  diliance  :  purfue  his  Heps,  and  intfce 
him,  if  poHible,  to  your  country-feat;  thitlur  I  will  come 
in  private.'  This  command  of  the  emperor,  Tiberius  re- 

ceive4 


fO  BELISARIUS. 

ceived  with  tranfport,  and  the  next  day  purfued  the  road 
Bciiiaiius  had  taken. 


B 


CHAP.  II. 

ELISARIUS,  in  the  mean  time,  begging  alms  as  he 
went,  journeyed  on  towards  an  old  ruinous  caltle. 


to  his  young  guide  not  to  mention  his  name  u}.on  the 
road  ;  but  the  dignified  air  of  his  countenance,  and  his 
Nyhole  perion,  was  luiHcient  to  inttrcft  ewry  beholder. 
Arriving  that  night  at  a  village,  his  condu6lor  Itopped 
at  the  door  of  an  houfe  which  had  a  limplc  but  neat  ap- 
pearance. 

The  landlord  was  entering  with  a  fpade  in  his  hand  : 
the  mien  and  features  of  B>;li;"ariusattra6ted  his  attention, 
and  made  him  curious  to  know  fo  refpedlable  a  vagrant. — 

*  A  pocr  invalid,'  fays  Bclifarius,  '  an  old  decript  fol- 
dicr!' — «  A  foidier!' exclaims  the  villager,  '  and  that  ho- 
nour is  your  recompeni'e '/ — '  There  is  no  help  for  it,'  re- 
plied Belifailus  j  <  thegieateft  misfortune  {jf  a  ibvercign  is 
liis  inability  to  pay  the  price  of  all  the  blood  fpilt  in  his 
lervice.'  The  heart  of  the  villager  was  touciied  by  this  an- 
Iwer,  and  B^la'arius  v/as  invited  to  partake  of  his  nof- 
pitality. 

*  I  here  intioduce,'  fays  the  mafter  of  the  houfe  to  his 
wife,  '  a  galhnt  brave  veteran,  who  bear^  the  firventies 
of  his  fate  with  fortitude  of  mind  f  then  turning  to  Bcli- 
larius,  *  My  honeii:  gueif,  be  not  artiamed  of  your  con- 
dition in  a  tamily  which  has  been  inured  to  misfortunes  ; 
fit  you  down,  we  are  going  to  fuppcr  ;  whde  we  wait  to 
have  it  hid  upon  the  table,  tell  mc,  pray  what  wars  have 
you  ferved  in  ?'  <  In  the  wars  of  Italy,'  lays  Belifarius, 

*  againit  the  Goths,  that  in  Afia  againlf  the  Perfians, 
and  in  Africa  agaiult  the  Vandals  and  the  Moors.' 

At  thefe  words  the  villager  could  not  fupprefs  a  deep 
/igh. — '  At  this  rate  then,'  continued  he,  '  you  made 
every  campaign  with  Belifarius  V — *  Yts, every  campaign; 
we  were  never  afunder.' — '  Indeed!  that  excellent  man! 
the  equal  compofure  of  his  mind !  that  conitant  upright- 

nef$  I 


BEL15ARIUS.  Il 

r.'cfs  !  that  greatnefs  of  foul !  Is  he  (1:11  living,  pj-ay  .-  for 
in  this  Iblitude  it  is  about  five  and  twenty  years  fince  I 
have  heanl  wiiat  is  doing;  in  the  world.' — «  Yes,  Beli- 
farius  is  Itill  alive/ — '  May  heaven  guard  and  prolong 
his  days  P — *  Ir  he  heard  your  wifhes  for  him,  your  good- 
nefs  would  affeft  him  tendtrly/ — '  Very  likej  and  how 
do  they  fay  he  fares  at  court  ?  In  great  power  to  before  I 
adored  by  every  body  !' — '  Alas !  envy  is  ever  an  attendant 
en  prolperity' — *  Very  true  j  but  the  emperor  Tnculd  be 
upon  his  guard  againll  the  enemies  of  fo  great  a  man, 
the  tutelary  genius,  the  proteftor  of  the  empire!' — *  He 
is  far  gone  in  years  now.' — '  But  what  then  r  he  will  be  as 
great  in  council,  as  he  was  formerly  in  the  field.  Hiswif- 
dom,  if  he  Is  attended  to,  may,  perhaps,  be  of  mere  ex- 
tenfive  ufe  than  even  his  valour.' — *  And  how,'  faysBeli- 
farius,  inwardly  foftened,  '  how  was  heknovvn  to  you  ?' — 
*  Let  us  fit  down  to  table,'  anfwered  the  villager  :  '  your 
queftion  would  lead  into  a  long  detail.' 

Bciifarius  now  felt  fome  fecrct  hints  that  his  landlord 
mud  be  fome  officer  v/ho  had  formerly  fcrved  under  him, 
and  had  reafon  to  be  contented  with  his  general.  During 
flipper,  the  latter  was  inquifitive  concerning  the  events 
of  war  in  Italy  and  the  Ealt,  but  was  totally  filent  in  re- 
gard to  Africa.  Belifarius  gratified  his  curicfity  in  a 
plain  and  fimple  ftyle. — '  Let  us  drink,'  fays  the  holt, 
at  the  conclufion  of  the  repaft,  '  let  us  drink  to  the  health 
of  ycur  general,  and  may  heaven  requite  him  with  its 
bounty  for  all  the  evilh.e  heaped  on  me  1' — '  He  !'  replied 
Belifarius, '  did  he  injure  you?' — '  Pie  difcharged  his  duty, 
and  I  make  no  complaint.  I  have  learned  in  the  Ichool  of 
"adverfity  to  compalfionate  the  diitrefies  cf  mankind,  and 
you  Ih.all  know,  my  hone  it  friend,  how  that  leiTon  was 
taught  me.  As  you  have  ferved  in  Africa,  you  have  ksn 
the  king  of  the  Vandals,  the  unfortunate  Gilimer,  ed  by 
Belifarius  in  triumph  to  Conlbntinopie,  with  his  wire 
and  children  involved  in  his  captivity.  That  very  Gili- 
mer  has  opened  to  you  his  hofpitable  doer !  you  have 
fupped  with  him  !' — '  Thcu  Gilin-er  !'  exclaimed  Beli- 
farius j  *  and  has  not  the  emperor  afllgned  you  a  bettei- 

lot?— 


IS  rtLISARIUS. 

iot  ? — He  had  promlfai' — '  Yes,  he  promlfed,  and,  fo 
CO  him  jultice,  he  kept  his  word.  Dignities  were  ot'- 
fered  to  me,  and  even  the  ranlc  of  a  Patrician  j  but  I  de- 
clined the  offer.  To  him  who  has  been  a  king,  and  has 
lo[t  his  crown,  t!\e  only  relbiirce  is  obicuiity  and  repoie.' 
— *  Thou  Giiimer  r — *  Yes,  I  am  he  !  that  vanqiiidied 
prince,  wlio  you  may  remtmber,  was  befieged  upon  the 
mountain.oi  Papua.  Theje  i  futfered  unheard  of  hard/hips, 
t!ie  inclemency  ot  the  winter  feaibn,  the  ntccflities  oi' 
famine,  the  nnferable  alpcct  of  a  whole  people  driven  to 
♦he  laft  defpair,  and  ready  to  devour  their  very  vvi\es 
and  c'lildrcn  j  tlve  unremitting  vigilance  of  that  brave  of- 
ficer Piiaras,  who -even  amidit  the  operations  of  the  ficge 
he  canied  on,  never  ceaftd  bv  his  remonftrances  to  awa. 
ken  my  feelings  both  tor  myfelf  and  the  miferies  of  iriy 
people  :  all  thefc  circnmitances,  together  with  the  entire 
contiderxe  1  hvA  in  the  uprightnefs  of  your  general,  pre- 
vailed upon  me  at  length  to  lay  down  my  arms.  With 
what  an  air  of  fober  dignity  did  Bilifarius  receive  me! 
Every  proper  rttention  v.'as  paid  to  me  by  his  direflion. 
With  v/hac  addrefs,  with  what  relpeff,  did  he  ftrive  to 
foften  my  afflic- ion  1  The  fpace  of  near  fix  luftres  has 
elapftd  fmce  I  have  dwelt  in  this  folitary  retreat,  and  not 
a  day  has  paUed  without  hcaringmymoft  fervent  prayers 
for  Belifarius.' 

*I  perceive,'  fald  Belii'arius,  *  in  this  account  cfj^our- 
felf,  tne  mild  efFefts  of  that  philofopliy,  whicii  even  on 
the  m.ountain,  where  you  endured  fo  much,  could  make 
you  chant  your  calamities  in  fong  ;  which  gave  you,  vi-hen 
you  appeared  before  Belifarius,  that  ferenity  of  counte- 
nance j  and  on  his  day  of  triumph  animated  that  look  of 
magnanimity,  which  alfonifiied  the  emperor  Juftinian. 
*  My  good  gucft,'' replied  Gilimer,  *  theftrcngthand  weak- 
reis  of  cur  mind  depend  entirely  upon  the  light  in  which 
things  appear  to  us.  True  conibncy  and  fortitude  firil 
iprung  up  in  my  heart,  when  I  began  to  cor.fider  the 
world  as  the  iport  of  fortune.  Till  then  I  had  lived  the 
moit  voluptuous  of  kings,  dilTolved  in  luxury,  and  ever 
entranced  in  the  lap  of  pleafurs  ;  cii  a  fudden  I  pslfed 

tioin 


BELI5ARIUS.  13 

from  my  f»alace,  th?.t  icene  ot"  revelry  and  delight,  to  the 
cavejn  ot  the  Moors,  where,  pillowtti  uponftraw,  I  lived 
en  bnrley  coariely  pounded  2ml  half  roaitcd  under  the 
cinders.  Nay,  to  Ivjch  hardihip  was  I  reduced,  that  a 
loaFof  bread,  ient  to  ir.e  Ijy  the  huiTianity  of  an  enemy, 
was  an  ineftimabie  prefent.  From  this  fituation  I  fell  in- 
to captivity,  was  loaded  with  irons,  and  walked  in  the 
conqueror's  triumph.  In  extremities  like  the/e,  you  will 
agree  with  me,  that  the  heart  muft  break  with  grief,  or 
rife  fuperior  to  the  caprice  of  fcrrime.' 

*  You  fiV.d  in  that  compofiue  of  your  foul,'  fays  Belr- 
farius, '  many  refourcesagairlt  calamity ;  and  I  promii'eto 
fuper;idd  a  new  motive  of  ccnfolation  before  Vv-epart.' 

Their  converfaticn  ended  here,  and  each  retired  to 
reft. 

Gilimer,  at  the  dawn  of  day,  inftead  of  betaking  him- 
felf  to  the  cultivation  of  his  garden,  made  it  his  firlt  care 
to  inquire  how  his  aged  gueft  had  pafi'ed  the  night.  He 
found  hin-i  already  up,  with  his  iVick  in  his  hand,  ready 
to  fet  cut  en  his  jouniey.  ^  How !'  faid  he,  '  not  give  us 
a  few  drtys  before  you  leave  usT — *  That,'  replied  Beli- 
farius,  '  is  not  in  m,y  power:  I  have  a  wife  and  daughter 
ii.ccnfciable  during  my  abfence.  Farewel !  and  hear  with- 
out emotion  what  rem.ains  to  be  told  you.  Blind  and  fu- 
perannuated  as  I  am,  Btlifarius  will  never  forget  the  re- 
ception you  have  given  him.' — '  How  '.Btlifarius!' — '  It 
is  Bciifarius  who  novv' embraces  you  !' — '  Righteous  hea- 
ven'.' exclaim.s  Gili:r:er,half  wild  v/ith  aftcnilhment; '  Beli- 
iarius  blind,  and  abandoned  in  his  old  age!"'—*  Evenfo,' 
replied  Belilariusj  « and  to  fhew  you  the  extreme  of  cruelty, 
before  they  turned  hun  adrift  to  beg  his  v/ay  through  the 
world,  his  enemies  put  out  his  eyes.'- — '  Am.azement !' 
lays  Giiiirer,  in  a  tone  of  grief  and  horror;  *  can  it  be 
poilible?  Who  were  the  u-onilers  ?'' — '  Envious  men/  re- 
plied Btliisriusj  *  they  impeached  m.e  of  defigns upon  the 
ocwn,  vvbtn  n>y  thoualus  were  fixed  upon  my  grave. 
Ti.ev  hr-d  cifc<'it  enough  to  ruin  m.e,  and  I  was  laid  in 
ircns.  The  people  at  length  cJamcured  loudly  fornry  en- 
kicurutj  ii  was  in  va;n  10  rtfiit  the  popular  outcry  j 
B  but 


14  BELISAPvIUS. 

but  in  reftoring  me  to  liberty,  they  deprived  me  of  my 
fight.  Juftinian  too  ordained  it ;  there  tne  wound  ftruclc 
deeper!  You  can  witnefs  with  what  zeal,  with  what  af- 
le6l:ion,  I  ferved  bini.  Even  now  I  love  him,  and  gricve 
that  he  is  I'urrounded  by  wicked  men,  who  cloud  and 
blacken  the  evening  of  his  days.  When  I  heard  that  he 
himiell:  pronounced  the  definitive  fentence,  I  own  my 
conltancy  taikd  me  ;  the  very  executioners  relented  into 
pity,  and  fell  proftrate  at  my  feet.  Now  all  is  ever;  and 
thanks  be  to  heaven,  Ihavebiit  little  time  to  crawl  about, 
hiind  and  wretched.' — '  Pais  that  time  with  me,'  fays 
Gilimer:  *  here,  under  my  roof,  dole  an  illuftrious  life.' 
— -'  That,'  returned  Belil'arius,  *  v^ould  have  Ibmething 
footliing  in  it ;  but  J  muft  give  myfelf  tomy  family,  and 
I  now  go  to  expire  in  their  arms.    Farewel!' 

Gilinier  embraced  him,  bathed  him  with  his  teai's,  and 
could  hardly  quit  his  hold.  At  length  he  let  him  go  with 
a  parting  pang,  aiKi  draining  his  eyes  after  him. — *  O 
prol'perity  !'  fays  he,  *  thou  cheat,  profperity !  who  can 
confide  in  thee  ?  The  warlike  hero,  the  great,  tlie  good 
Belilarius !  Now,  indeed,  he  may  think  himfelf  happy 
who  digs  his  garden.' — With  thele  v/ords  the  king  ottnc 
Vandals  refumed  his  fpade. 

CHAP.  III. 

BELTSARIUS  was  now  near  the  afylum  of  his  fa- 
mily, who  expected  him  witli  impatience,  whc:n  a 
new  Incident  made  him  fear  that  he  flioulJ  never  reach 
it.  The  inhabitants  upon  ihe  borders  of  the  empire 
were  perpetually  making  incurfions  into  Thr<Ke.  A 
party  of  the  Bulgarians  had  invaded  the  confines,  iuii" 
as  a  rumour  was  Ipread  abroad  that  Btlilar.us,  deprived 
of  his  eye-fight,  was  difcharged  from  prifcn,  and  wds 
begging  his  v/ay  to  his  exiled  family.  The  idea  of  at-* 
taciung  to  himlelf  fo  conlideiable  a  man  loon  (iiuck  the 
})rince  of  Bu'gaiia,  who  little  doubted  but  th.at  Bcliiari- 
us  would  embrace  the  melt  rapid  m^ans  of  ivvenge. 
The  road  he  had  taken  v;as  known,  and  oi dtrs  weie  ac- 
cordingly  ifiued  for  a  diligent  purfuit.     Towards  the 

dole 


BELISARIUS.  1- 

clore  of  day  BelirarUis  was  overtaken  :  force  was  not  to 
be  refilled  5  he  was  obliged  to  mount  a  fuperb  horfe 
brought  for  the  purpofe.  Two  Bulgarians  conduced 
him,  and  the  heio's  guide  was  obliged  to  mount  behind 
cneof  thetn.  '  You  may  ti-uft  to  us/  faid  the  Bulgarians; 
*  the  prince  our  maftcr  honours  your  virtues  and  ccmpaf- 
iionates  your  misrortunes.'  Beliiarius  interrogating  what 
their  prince  wanted  with  him. — '  He  means,'  replied  the 
barbarians,  *  to  late  your  vengeance  with  the  blood  of 
your  enemies.' — '  Ah  T  fays  the  old  general,  *  let  him  leav-e 
me  unrevenged ;  his  pity  is  fupcrfiuous  and  cruel.  I 
only  alk  to  die  in  the  arms  of  my  family,  and  you  tear 
me  from  them.  Whither  would  you  lead  me?  I  am 
haralfed  with  fatigue,  and  reft  is  neceffary  to  me.' — '  Reft 
you  fliail  h^ve,'  anfwered  the  Bulgarians,  '  and  to  your 
entire  fatistacuion,  if  the  malter  of  the  neighbouring 
caftie  Ihculd  chance  not  to  be  up.;n  his  guard,  or  in  cafe 
he  does  not  piove  armed  with  too  itrong  a  force.' 

This  caltle  was  in  the  occupation  ot  an  old  courtier, 
whoie  name  v/as  Btflus.  He  had  commanded  at  Rome 
duiing  a  liege,  and,  after  being  gu iky  of  the  molt  hor- 
rible cxa6lions,  retired  to  this  place  with  ten  thoufand  ta- 
lents*. Bciifarius  had  infihed  th.it  he  fhould  be  profe- 
cutcd  with  the  utmoft  fevcriiy  of  the  law  j  but  thole  at 
court  who  do  not  wifh  to  have  matters  too  clofely  in- 
fpefted,  being  all  of  his  party,  ihe  inquiry  was  prevent- 
ed, and  Bcllus  retired  to  enjoy  his  crimes  and  his  money 
in  rural  tranquillity. 

Two  Bulgarians,  who  had  been  difpatched  to  recon- 
noitre the  place,  reported  to  the  chief,  that  in  the  caltle 
all  was  pieafure  and  rejoicing;  that  the  misfortune  of 
Bellfarius  was  the  general  talk: ;  and  that  Beflus  cele- 
brated it  by  a  day  of  feftivity,  as  a  punifiiment  infli^led 
by  heaven.  *  The  abjecl  wretch  !'  faid  the  Bulgarians,  *  he 
ftiall  not  long  have  it  in  his  power  to  triumph  in  lbs 
downfal  of  a  great  man  like  you.' 

They  arrived  foon  at  the  caftie :  Beftus  was  at  table 
furrounded  by  his  fycophants,  one  of  whom  fung  a  fong 
B  z  Qt 

*  About  250,0001.  ftcrling. 


i6  iJELlSARiUS. 

Oi' adulation;  and  in  his  ftanzas  fet  forth  the  care  of  heaven 
in  the  jultification  of  his  patron,  by  punifliing  the  ac- 
cufer  with  tlie  lofs  of  his  fight.  What  more  manifelt  in- 
dication could  there  be  !  Could  innocence  enjoy  a  more 
IplendiJ  triumph !  BefTas  applauded  the  flattering 
lU'ain,  gracioully  obferving,  that  heaven  is  always  jitlt, 
and  that  fooner  or  later  the  wicked  are  brought  to  con- 
dign punifnment.  BtlTus  was  right  in  his  obfervation  j 
for  now  t!ie  Bulgarians,  iword  in  hand,  had  taken  pof- 
fcffion  of  the  court-yard,  and  leaving  Belifarius  to  thecnre 
of  a  few  foldiers,  made  their  way  with  hideous  upro3i' 
to  the  banqueting-room.  Beffus  turned  pale  at  the  iight  j 
confufion  and  terror  fell  upon  him  j  his  guefts  w-rre 
thrown  into  the  utmCif  confternation :  without  attempt- 
ing a  defence,  they  fell  upon  their  knees  and  begged 
their  lives.  They  were  all  inilantly  feized,  and  dragged 
forth  to  the  place  where  Belifarius  was  guarded.  Bsi" 
fus,  by  the  light  of  the  toiciies,  perceived  on  horfeback 
a  blind  old  man  ;  he  iminedlateiy  knew  him,  and  be- 
leeched  his  mercy.  The  old  general,  foftened  wit'i  teU' 
dernefs,  conjured  the  Bulgarians  to  fpare  him  and  his. 

*  No,'  faid  the  chief. '  no  mercy  here  for  bad  men  !'  This 
was  the  fignal  for  Slaughter,  and  Belfus  with  all  his  com- 
rades was  put  to  death  upon  the  fpot.  Tiien  ordering 
all  the  domellics  before  him,  the  commander  of  the  gang, 
who  faw  they  expeded  the  fame  fate,  bid  them  be  with- 
out fear,  and  attend  hiin  and  his  party  at  table ;  *  for 
now,'  fays  he,  *  we  are  your  mafters.'  He  proceeded  to 
regale  himfelf  with  his  followers,  and  Belifarius  was 
placed  in  the  leat  of  Beffus. 

The  vicimtudes  of  fortune  nov/  engrofTed  the  thoughts 
of  Belifariujj,  and  this  lalt  incident  forely  grieved  him, 

*  My  friends,'  fdi  he  to  the  Bulgarians,  '  you  diilrcfa 
jne  much  by  flicdding  the  blood  of  my  countrymen. 
BelTus,  it  is  true,  was  gudty  of  avarice  and  inhuniajnty  : 
I  have  fcen  him  the  author  of  a  famine  at  Rome,  and  in 
the  midjt  of  the  public  mifery  felling  out  biead  at  a  moll 
exorbitant  price,  v/ithout  any  feeling  for  tlie  poor,  who 
were  unable  to  buy  the  necefikries  ot  life.     The  juftice 

ef 


BELISARIUS.  27 

of  heaven  has  overtaken  him  at  iali,  and  my  only  regret 
is  that  he  merited  his  fate  :  but  yet  this  havoc,  done  in 
my  name,  is  a  ftain  to  my  lionour.  Either  difpatch  me, 
or  promife  that  no  outrage  of  this  fort  fliall  happen  again 
while  I  am  amongft  you.'  The  Bulgarians  engaged  to 
re(h-ain  themfelvts  for  the  future  to  ielf-dsfcnce ;  but 
Beffus'  caftle  was  plundered,  and  the  next  day  tne  inva- 
ders, loaded  with  booty,  fet  forv/ard  with  Belifarius, 

As  foon  as  they  arrived  at  tiieir  prince's  camp,  the 
commander  in  chic',.tmnracing  Belifarius,  exclaimed, 
in  a  tranfport  ot  joy,  *  Come,  thou  venerable  man,  and 
try  whether  we  or  your  own  countrymen  are  the  Baiba- 
rians !  Abandoned  by  the  ftate  you  ferved,  you  fliall 
£nd  among  us  both  friends  and  revengers  of  your 
wrongs.'  With  this  he  led  him  by  the  hand  to  his  tent, 
there  bade  him  repofe  himfelf,  and  gave  orders  that 
every  thing  Ihould  favour  his  ilumber.  At  night,  after 
a  fumptuous  repaft,  at  which  the  name  of  Belilaiius  was 
celebrated  by  all  the  Barbarian  chiefs,  the  king  withdi'ew 
with  him  to  a  private  conference.  He  began  by  obferv- 
ing,  that  it  was  needlefs  to  remonitrate  the  cruelty  of 
the  treatment  he  had  met  with.  *  The  crime,'  conti- 
nued he,  '  is  horrible  j  the  vengeance  due  to  it  fhould 
be  the  fame.  Your  tyrant,  with  all  his  accotnplices, 
mull  be  buried  under  the  ruins  of  the  Imperial  throne 
and  palace :  his  city  ihall  be  wrapt  in  flames,  and  its 
fragments  heaped  upon  the  emperor's  head.  Be  thou 
ilhiitrious  old  m.an,  be  thou  the  guide  of  my  armies  j 
inftru^l  me  how  to  conquer,  and  to  expiate  your  injuries. 
Thev  have  not  robbed  you  of  the  mind's  eye  5  the  light 
pf  wifdcm  is  frill  yours.  Teach  m.e  how  to  rufh  upon 
them  by  furprife  j  to  alTauIt  them  vvithin  their  ram.parts. 
Let  us  extermina*:e  their  empire,  and  not  leave  a  trace 
of  it  on  this  iide  of  the  feas.  If  the  kcond  rank  in  our 
new  dominion  will  not  fuiiice  you,  divide  with  me  the 
imperial  dignity;  I  agree  to  it.  Let  the  tyrant  of  By- 
Eantium,  l^efore  he  dies  beneath  repeated  blows,^  behold 
ycu  once  more  m.ake  ycur  triumphant  fc)itry  into  his  city,' 
— '  And  svculd  you  have  me,  then,'  faid Belifarius  after 
;g  3  a  paufi 


iS  BELISARIUS. 

a  paufe,  '  would  3'ou  have  me  jultify  him  for  depriving 
me  of  my  fight  ?  It  is  a  lon^  tinie^  fir,  fince  I  declined 
the  ofttrr  of  crowns.  Carthage  and  Italy  iiwited  n.y 
acceptance.  I  was  then  young,  and  in  the  lealbn  of 
ambition  j  perfecution  even  then  began  to  fhew  itl^li, 
but  I  remained  inviolably  faithful  to  my  prince  and  my 
country.  The  duty  which  then  bound  me  continues  un- 
extinguiHied  j  and  nothing  can  induce  me  to  renounce  it. 
When  I  promifed  allegiance  to  the  emperor,  I  hoped  ta 
find  him  ju(t ;  and,  if  he  proved  otherwife,  I  made  no 
refervation  of  a  tacit  right  to  clel'end,  much  lefs  to  re- 
venge mylelf.  Of  treafon  and  revolt  I  am  incapable  5 
and,  let  me  afk,  hov/  would  it  ferve  you  to  brand  mg 
with  pcriury  ?  What  valuable  fervice  can  you  expect 
from  a  blind  eld  man,  who  has  loit  the  force  and  vigour 
of  his  mind  ?  The  euterprife  you  propoie  is  much  above 
my  ability,  perhaps  above  your  own.  In  the  prefent  re, 
laxed  Ifate  of  government,  the  emperor  feems  an  t'^ily 
conquift  ;  but  he  is  only  grown  indolent}  and  perhaps, 
to  roufe  him  from  his  l.ingour  and  reanimate  Ifis  fpirir, 
it  were  defireable  for  hi  ^i  that  an  enteiprile  like  yours 
fiiouIJ  be  commenced-  That  city,  which  you  think  ib 
afiailriole,  is  inhibited  by  a  people  tra  ned  to  v^ar :  and 
then,  what  a  fet  of  m.cn  to  lead  them  on  I  If  the  fuper- 
annuatcd  Belifarlus  may  well  nigh  he  numbered  with  the 
dead,  yet  Narfe^  lives,  and  even  Narles  h:is  for  competi- 
tors xMundus,  Hermes,  Salomon,  and  many  oth.rs  of  3 
warlike  genius.  If  you  will  credit  me,  time  alone, 
with  its  imperceptible  hand,  muft  iap  the  foundations 
and  work  the  downfal  of  that  great  empire.  You  n-.ny, 
indeed,  commit  a  ravage,  but  that  is  but  the  v^rar  of 
robbers  ;  your  ambition  will  ai'pire  to  an  enterprife  more 
worthy  of  you.  Juftinian  defires  only  to  form  alliances 
and  confederacies  in  fricndfiiip;  let  me  add,  there  is  not 
a  king  who  would   not  be  honoured  by  an  alliance  w  ih 

himj  and,  fir,  it  depends  upon  yourlelf  to' '  N ),' 

inrerrup::ed  tlie  Bulgarian,  *  I  r.::ver  will  be  the  fne:)d 
of  J-,i!finian }  I  will  iioid  no  aiiance  with  the  man  wiia 
owto  his  all  to  vou.  and  iq  return  has  blinded  vou  fpr  it. 


BELISARIUS.  19 

Will  you  reign  In  concert  v/ith  me,  the  dire6lor  of  my 
councils,  and  the  genius  of  my  armies  ?  That  is  the 
queltion  between  us.' — '  My  life,'  replied  Belifarius,  •  is 
in  ycur  hands ;  but  nothing  can  exempt  me  from  the  al- 
legiance I  owe  to  mv  lawful  fovereign  j  even  now,  de- 
prelic-d  as  1  am,  had  I  the  means  of  icrving  him,  though 
it  were  againft  yourfelf,  he  might  ftili  be  as  fure  of  me 
as  in  my  day  of  profperity.' — '  An  extraordinary  Ibrt  of 
virtue  this  !'  fays  the  Bulgarian. — '  Woe  to  the  people,' 
replied  Belifarius,  '  to  whom  it  appears  extraordinary! 
D.:.n't  you  perceive  that  it  is  the  foundation  of  good  or- 
der in  fociety  ?  That  no  member  of  any  community 
•whatever  fhould  arrogate  to  himfelf  a  right  to  be  his  own 
judge  and  his  own  avenger,  is  an  obvious,  a  felt-evident 
truth.  That  right  ot  nature  is  transferred  to  the  ma- 
giftraces;  and  were  it  otherwife,  there  would  be  as 
many  rebels  as  dili:ontented  fplrits.  Would  you,  who 
now  court  me  to  punilh  my  mafter  for  injullice,  would 
you  give  the  fame  privilege  to  ycur  own  foldiers  ?' — 
'  Would  I  give  it!'  lays  the  Bulgarian j  *  they  have 
it  without  my  giving  it  j  but  fear  reitrains  it  within  due 
bounds.' — '  And  with  us,  fir,  virtue  is  the  reltraint,' 
lays  Belifarius  j  '  that  is  an  advantage  refulting  from 
the  manners  ;  from  manners  formed  by  civiiiz?.tion,  the 
parent  oflociaj  happinefs  :  and  fecial  happinefs,let  me  tell 
vou,  will  never  be  rightly  undei  llood, where  the  inftitutions 
of  true  policy  have  not  been  received.  I  will  go  deeper  into 
tnis  fubje^l,  with  tlie  freedom  of  a  man  who  has  nothingleft 
to  tear  or  hope.  What  fort  of  uibjefts  do  you  govern,  iir? 
A  race  inured  to  v/arfare  ;  that  is  their  belt  refource, 
and  that  every  warfare  to  which  they  are  trained,  ba- 
niilies  every  idea  of  a  right  ufe  of  peace  j  inclines  them  to 
negledt  the  valuable  riches  of  labour  and  indulfry  ;  to 
trample  on  the  laws  ot  natural  juilice,  and  feek  a  preca- 
rious good  in  ruin  and  deftrucliqn.  If  you  will  place 
beiore  your  eyes  the  confequences  that  mull:  attend  your 
boiindlcis  am.bition,  yuu  will  perceive  how  neceliariiy  it 
refulrs,  that,  to  lay  waile  the  territories  of  tlie  empire, 
you  muft  leave  your  own  without  labourers,  barren  anl 

uncultivated ; 


ao  EELI5ARIUS. 

\incultlvated  ;  that  in  order  to  lublift-  one  part  of  the  hu- 
man Ipecics,  you  muft  maflacre  another  ;  and  that  your 
own  luhjefts  muft  fatten  with  their  blood  the  very  land 
which  they  cover  with  deiblation.' — <  And  will  not,' 
faid  the  king,  *  the  influence  of  v.'ar  be  the  lame  upon 
the  fubje61s  of  the  empue  ?■■ — '  By  no  means,'  replied  Be- 
lifarius  j  *  and  moreover  the  objeel  cf  our  arms  is  very 
different.  The  end  aimed  at  by  our  wais  is  public  tran- 
quillity, that  we  may  enjoy  the  fruits  of  peace  as  the 
purchafe  of  our  viftories.' — '  Gcnerofity,'  fays  the  Bul- 
garian, <  is  eafily  extended  when  we  have  the  iuperior 
lorce.  Let  us  break  off  the  conference.  You  are  Itill  \U 
luftrious  in  mifery,  and  I  honour  your  unfliaken  fide- 
lity J  it  deferves  a  better  recompenle.  Repofe  yourfelf 
for  this  night  in  my  own  tent :  you  fhall  be  lodged  near 
our  perfon.  To-monow  it  fhall  depend  upon  yourfelf 
to  ^ireft  your  guides  which  way  you  will  be  conducted.' 
p~^  To  the  place  where  they  feized  mc,'  laid  Belilarius ; 
and  then  retired  to  the  comforts  of  a  pure  and  tranquil 
fleep. 

The  next  day  the  king  oF  Bulgaria  took  leave  of  th« 
good  old  gener:.l,  and  fain  would  have  loaded  him  with 
prefents. — <  They  nre,'  laid  Belifarius,  '  the  fpoik  of 
my  country,  and  you  would  bluili  for  me,  if  I  t'utfered 
myfelt  to  be  lb  enriched.' — Some  necelfary  food  for  him- 
felf  and  his  guide  was  all  he  could  be  induced  to  acceptj 
and  the  fame  party  that  laid  violent  hands  upon  him, 
cfcorted  him  to  the  place  from  whence  he  had  been  car* 
ried  to  tiie  Barbarian  camp. 

CHAP.  IV. 

THE  hero  was  now  at  the  diilance  of  twelve  miles 
from  the  retreat  of  his  family  ;  but  being  exliaufted 
by  a  fatiguing  journey,  he  inquired  of  his  guide  whe- 
ther there  was  not  a  yilhge  in  light,  where  he  might 
reft  his  wearied  limbs, — *  There  is  one,'  faid  his  young 
conductor,  *  but  it  is  a  conlidersble  way  off.  Let  thei4 
guards  convey  you  to  it.' — <  No,'  replied  Belifarius, 
*  I  fliould  expofe  the  place  to  the  pillage  of  thele  rovers,' 
H^  uow  t©ok  leave  of  his  convoy,  Aii'i'iving 


BELISARIU?.  2i 

Arriving  at  the  village,  the  cry  that  flruck  his  eajt* 
vias,  There  he  is  \  that's  he,  it  is  the  'very  man.'' — <  What 
may  this  mean  ?' — *  It  is  a  whole  iamily,'  laid  the  guide> 

*  making  towards  you  with  great  eagernefs.'  By  this 
time  an  old  man  caiT.c  torward  r'rcm  the  crowd, — *  Wor- 
thy gentleman/  laid  he,  '  may  we  crave  to  know  who 
you  are  ?' — *  Ycu  plainly  lee/  replied  Belifarius,  '  that 
I  am  a  peer  indigent  wretch,  and  not  a  gentleman.-— 

*  An  indigent  wrerch!'  exclaimed  the  peal'antj  *  that 
is  what  occafions  our  ciiriolity  j  for  we  iiave  a  report 
here,  that,  wretched  as  you  Teem,  you  are  Bellianus.'— 

*  Lower  ycur  voice,  my  honeft  triend,'  replied  trie  ge- 
neral; '  and  it'  my  misiortunes  touch  you,  aftord  me  a 
(helter  under  your  roof.' — Thsfe  words  were  fcarcely  ut- 
tered, when  lie  felt  the  villager  embracing  his  knees  j 
he  railed  the  hondl  countryman,  and  viient  with  him  into 
an  humble  cot. 

'  Fall  down,  my  children,'  faid  the  villager  to  his  fon 
and  two  daughters,  *  fall  down  at  ttie  feet  of  this  illuf- 
trious  hero  :  it  was  he  protected  us  from  the  ravage  of 
the  Huns ;  but  for  him  our  little  habitation  had  been 
reduced  to  allies ;  but  for  him,  my  children,  your  father 
would  have  been  butchered  before  your  eyes,  your  lit- 
tle babes  would  have  been  torn  from  you,  and  hurried 
into  captivity  ;  but  foi'him,  you  never  would  have  raif- 
ed  your  heads  again:  you  are  indebted  to  him  for  life, 
and  all  that  can  he  dearer  than  life.  Venerate  him  the 
more  for  his  piefent  condition,  refpe^l  his  misfortunes, 
and  weep  over  your  unhappy  country.' 

Belifarius,  dlffolving  inwardly  with  tendernefs  at  the 
grateful  fentiments  of  this  little  family,  and  overpowered 
by  their  blefTings  on  his  head,  could  only  anfwer 
them  with  the  dumb  eloquence  of  his  embraces. — '  Con- 
defcend,  illuftrious  hero,'  laid  the  two  women,  '  to  I'e- 
ceive  to  your  arms  thefe  two  iitrli  innocents,  who  have 
found  in  you  a  lecond  father.  We  fhail  never  ceafe  to 
awaken  in  their  memories  a  due  fenfe  of  the  honour  they 
v/ill  now  receive  by  fainting  their  great  deliverer,  and 
being  carefTed  in  his  embraces.' — Each  mother  prefented 

her 


2X  BEL1SARIU3. 

her  own  child,  and  pliced  him  on  the  general's  knees. 
The  little  infants  liniled  with  young  altoniihrnent,  and 
raifing  their  arms,  IceiTied  to  offer  up  their  thanks.-— ^ 
«  And  can  you  now/  laid  Bcrlilarius,  *  think  me  an  ob- 
je6l  of  compaflion  ?  Does  there  at  this  raoinent  breathe 
a  man  more  fincerely  happy  than  myfslf  ?  But  teli  me, 
how  has  it  happened  that  \-ou  had  any  knowledge  of 
me?' — <  A  young  nobleman,'  replied  the  villager, 
*  pafled  through  this  place  yelterday,  and  inquired  it 
we  had  not  feen  a  blind  old  man  go  by  ;  you  aniwer  ths 
dtlcriptlon  he  gave  us.  We  aflTurcd  him  we  had  iecn  no 
fuch  perfon :  he  then  charged  us  to  keep  a  good  look-out, 
and  let  you  know,  that  a  friend  expects  you  at  the  place 
where  you  are  going.  He  faid  you  were  in  want  of  every 
thing,  and  requeited  us  to  pay  you  every  attention  in 
our  power  :  he  even  promifed  to  requite  us  for  it.  Alas! 
we  told  him  that  we  were  all  varioufly  employed  ;  fomtj 
in  the  labours  of  the  fidd,  others  in  domeitic  cares,  and 
had  but  little  ieifure  to  gape  after  travellers  as  they  pais 
by. — "  Then  quit  your  employments,"  laid  the  young 
lord,  "  and  omit  every  thing  rather  than  the  a6l  of  be- 
nevolence the  good  old  man  is  entitled  to :  he  is  your 
prcte6lor,  your  deliverer  !  it  is  Bciifarius  whom  I  recom- 
mend to  your  diligence  ;"  and  then  he  opened  to  us  the 
whole  ftory  of  your  lufferings.  At  the  found  of  a  name 
lb  beloved  and  honoured,  imagine  to  youriclf  the  agita- 
tion of  our  hearts.  My  Ion  watched  all  night  long  for 
his  general,  for  he  had  the  honour  of  fighting  under 
your  banners,  when  you  expelled  the  invaders  of  Thrace  ; 
and  my  daughters  at  the  dawn  of  day  were  at  the  threfl;- 
old  of  the  doer,  and  there  continued  llraining  their  eyes 
with  eager  expectation.  At  length  we  have  found  you : 
command  as  you  pleafe,  every  thing  we  have  is  yours  j 
the  noblem.^n  who  defires  to  fee  you  has  more  in  his  power 
to  give ;  but  give  what  he  may,  he  wiil  not  do  it  with  a 
better  heart  than  we  ofrer  our  little  all.' 

While  thus  the  father  difcourle.l,  the  fon,  in  a  fixed 
attitude  before  the  hero,  viewed  him  with  a  penfive  air, 
his  hands  clafped  in  each  other  j  confternation,  pity,  and 

refpe^, 


EELISARIU5.  1* 

I'efpe^t,  riling  by  turns,  and  dirt'ufing  themfelvrs  over  his 
countenance. 

*  My  good  friend,'  fnys  Belifai  ius  to  the  old  villager, 
*  I  thrnk  yr>u  for  thtfe  marks  of  yourgoodnefs.  I  have 
w'lerewitiiai  to  lupport  me  on  my  vvay  to  my  laft  retreat : 
but  prav  intonn  me,  is  your  happinefs  equal  to  your  be- 
nevolence? Your  Ion,  you  fay,  carried  arms  under  my 
conduct.  I  fee!  myfeif  interefted  about  him  ;  is  he  pru- 
dent, careful,  and  induftrious  ?  Does  he  prove  a  good 
hufljand  and  a  good  father  ?' — *  He  is,'  replied  the  old 
man,  '  all  my  joy  and  comfort :  he  quitted  the  army  up- 
on the  death  of  his  elder  brother}  but  he  quitted  it 
ieamed  with  honourable  fears  j  he  relieves  me  from  la- 
bour, the  prop  of  my  old  age!  He  has  for  his  wife  the 
riaughter  of  my  friend,  and  heaven  has  fmiled  upon  their 
onion.  He  is  of  a  fanguine  lively  tern. per  :  fhe  is  of  a 
mild  and  amiable  difpofition.  My  daughter,  who  Hands 
tlieie,  is  alfo  happily  icttled.  I  gave  her  in  marriage  to 
a  young  man  of  good  morals,  and  they  live  in  mutual 
atreclion ;  every  thinsc  goes  on  to  my  heart's  content, 
and  they  have  raikd  grand -children  to  me,  in  whom  I 
iancy  I  am  renewing  mv  youth.  In  the  hopes  that  they 
tvill  cherifli  my  meinorv,  and  blefs  me  when  I  am  gone, 
I  draw  towards  mv  grave  v/ith  lefs  regret.' — *  Alas  ! 
my  good  friend,'  laid  Belifarius,  '  you  excite  my  envy! 
I  had  two  fens,  my  be:f ,  my  darling  hope  !  I  law  them 
both  expire  at  my  fide  :  an  only  daughter  is  all  that  is 
left  me  in  my  age,  and  fhe,  alas  1  has  too  much  fenfibi- 
iiry  for  my  cor.dition  and  her  own.  But  thanks  be  to 
heaven,  m.y  two  boys  died  fighting  for  their  country  !' — 
At  ihefs  words,  the  young  man,  who  had  been  earneft- 
ly  liltening  to  all  that  pafied,  felt  his  heart  touched  to 
the  quick. 

Tne  fupper,  confiillng  of  plain  country  fare,  was  ferved 
«p  ;  but  Brlifarius,  by  his  lively  reprefentations  of  the 
h  :ppir.efs  that  dwells  with  obfcurity,  gave  it  the  value  of 
t-.e  )V.M  fumptuous  repaft.  <  Calm  and  retired  tran- 
f|ui]iify,'  fays  he,  *  is  the  happieft  ftate  of  man  ^  and  yet 
fo  little  are  the  folid  bleffings  of  life  undcrilood,  it  is  a 
ftate  which  is  never  envied  T  The 


24-  BELISARIU3. 

The  young  man  of  the  home  continued  fijent  during 
the  whole  time  of  Itipper,  with  his  eyes  fixed  on  Beli- 
farius  ;  he  was  loft  in  contemplation  :  his  inward  work- 
ings grew  (ironger  as  he  gazed :  his  countenance  every 
moment  fettled  into  a  deepi^r  gloom,  looked  more  inttnfe 
with  reflexion,  and  fiercer  with  thi  various  meanings 
that  lucceeded  each  other.  *  Here  is  my  fon/  laid  the 
good  old  landlord,  *  recalling  to  his  imagination  all  your 
battles  ;  he  perules  you  with  an  ardent  eye.' — '  He  finds 
it  difHcult,'  replied  Belifarius,  '  to  recollei5l  his  gene- 
ral."—* The  enemies  of  my  general/  laid  the  young  man, 

*  have  defaced  him  er.ough  to  make  it  difhcult  to  know 
him  ;  but  he  is  too  near  the  hearts  of  his  loldiers  to  be 
ever  unknown  to  them.' 

When  Bel ifaiius  took  leave  of  this  worthy  fam'.ly — 

*  I  fhould  be  glad,'  fays  the  young  man,  <  if  my  gene- 
ral will  permit  me  to  attend  him  a  iittle  part  of  his  way.' 
Being  together  on  the  road,  '  I  could  vvifli,'  laid  he 
again,  *  that  you  would  order  your  guide  to  walk  on 
before  us  ;  for  I  have  Ibmerhing  lor  your  private  ear. — 
The  condition,  hr,  to  which  they  have  reduced  you,  fills 
me  with  indignation.  They  have  lett  you  a  terrible  ex- 
ample of  ingratiuide,  and  the  bafelt  perfidy:  it  makts 
me  even  look  with  horror  on  my  country  :  and  as  I 
formerly  dared  boldly  in  herfcrvice,  lo  I  now  blufh  ftr 
e\ery  drop  of  blood  I  ipilt  in  her  caufe.  The  place  of 
my  nativity  is  grown  deteftable  -to  me,  and  I  look  with 
pity  on  the  children  whcm  I  have  brought  into  this  bad 
world.' — '  Hold!   hold,  young  man!'  fays  Beliiarius  ; 

*  wiiere  is  the  country  in  wr.ich  honelt  men  do  not  fall 
the  victims  of  malignity  and  fiaud?' — '  But  tiiis,'  re- 
turned the  young  foklier,  '  this  is  witiiout  a  preceden'. 
There  is  a  peculiarity  in  your  fate  that  exceeds  all  im; - 
guKiticn.  Who  v^^as  the  author  of  it  ?  I  have  a  wire  a;  d 
ciiildrcn  J  them  I  will  recommend  to  their  grandfathir 
and  the  Supreme  Being,  and  nothing  Ihall  retard  ii.etrcm 
letting  out  direcf  iy  to  tear  out  the  vidian's  heart  wio 
haibiroufly' — '  Alas  I  thou  generous  youth,'  fait!  Bif- 
^iirius,  chilping  him  in  his  arms  <  this  exce!-)  cf  pitykir- 

d..s 


EELISARIL'S,  «5 

<^lcs  to  enthufiafm.  Can  I  conlent  tb.at  a  brave  young  man 
(lu!!  be  the  perpetrator  of  an  inudious  deed  ?  that  a  lokiier 
fhall  become  an  aflaiTin  ?  that  a  vutuous  fon,  a  tender 
huiband,  and  an  auectionate  father,  fhall  be  the  llave  of 
guilt  and  infamy  i  It  were  to  make  me  deierve  all  that 
malice  has  inflicted  on  me.  Refleil  a  little  j  you  have 
relinqullhed  the  juit  defence  oF  your  country  to  iblace 
your  aged  father,  and  rear  up  your  tender  infantsj  and 
will  you  now  for  a  Superannuated  wietch  like  me,  with  an 
extravagant  zeal,  dekrt  that  very  father  and  your  help- 
lefs  babes  ?  Teil  me,  fhouid  you  drench  your  hands  in 
the  blood  of  my  enemies,  v/ill  that  recai  my  youthful 
vigour  ?  will  that  reftore  my  loft  organs  to  me  ?  Wlien 
you  have  m.ade  yourieif  criminal,  fnail  I  be  tiie  lefs  rai- 
lerabic  V — *  No,'  replied  the  young  mi3n,  *  but  the 
bloody  cataftrophe  of  a  villain  will  ihike  every  guilty 
mind  with  horror:  to  make  him  a  terrible  example  to  the 
world,  I  will  feize  the  monfter  at  the  foot  of  the  throne, 
or  even  of  the  altar,  and,  glutting  my  poniard  in  his 
heart,  will  thunder  in  his  ear,  '•  Bdifarius jlnkes  ike  blovj.'"' 
— '  And  by  what  right,''  lays  Belifarius,  in  a  deciiive 
tone,  «  do  yen  mean  to  execute  my  revenge  ?  Have  I  trans- 
ferred a  nght  to  you,  which  I  do  not  poiTcis  myfeif  ?  or 
do  you  mean  to  aliume  that  right  in  defiance  of  every 
law  ?' — '  Let  law  be  truly  adminiffered,'  fiiid  the  young 
man,  *  and  the  fubjetl  will  depend  upon  the  jufticc  of  his 
country  i  but  fmce  it  is  perverted,  imce  it  gives  no  protec- 
tion to  innccence  and  virtue,  but  connives  at  vice,  and 
acts  in  colkihon  v^ith  the  guilty,  it  is  time  to  abjure  civil 
focie*y,  andielori  to  the  prunitive  laws  of  natural  juitice.' 
— '  Tvly  worchv  good  friend,'  replied  Belilarius,  '■  that  is 
thereafoning  of  rufhans,  of  every  lawlcfs  banditti !  To  fee 
the  laws  warped  to  evil  purpoles  is  indeed  grievous  to  a 
julf  and  honcft  mind  j  but  the  cafe  would  be  ftiU  m.ore 
grievous,  if  they  were  to  luffcropen  violation.  Enfeebled 
laws  are  moft  certainly  an  evil,  but  a  tranktory  evil  j  their 
total  overthrow  would  be  a  ialf mg  calamity.  You  would 
ftiike  guiIt  with  horror,  ami  yet  you  are  going  to  en- 
courage it  by  your  c.\3in])ie.  My  calamities,  thcu  worthy 
C  youth. 


.fi6  BELISARIUS. 

ycKith,  have  hifplrcd  you  with  noble  fentlments;  vvoulct 
you  debafe  thoi'e  ientiments  by  an  atrocious  deed?  Shall 
the  tender  lenratioiis  of  the  heart  be  turned  to  horror  ? 
I  conjure  you,  in  the  name  ofthat  virtue  which  you  love, 
dishonour  it  not  by  fatal  rafimefs.  Let  it  never  be  laid 
that  virtue  has  guided  the  hand  of  an  aiiaflin.' 

*  If  their  cruelty/  laid  the  young  loldier,  *  had  fpent 
its  rage  on  me,  I  could  perhaps  arm  myfelf  w.th  forti- 
tude to  bear  the  worll ;  but  when  am.-.n  renowned,  when 
Belifarius — No,  I  will  never  forgive  it/ — '  But  I  for- 
give it,'  replied  Belifarius  j  *  nothing  but  my  intereft 
in  this  buliiitfs  can  provoke  your  fury  ;  and  if  I  renounce 
rny  own  refentments,  will  you  go  turther  than  I  am  will- 
ing to  do  ?  Let  me  tell  you,  that  if  I  were  inclined  to  ex- 
piate my  wrongs  by  the  blood  of  my  enemies,  whole  na- 
tions are  ready  to  arm  themfelves  in  my  caufe  j  but  I  am 
refigned  to  my  fate :  imitate  my  example  j  allow  me  to 
be  a  judge  of  what  is  right  and  honourable  ;  and,  if  you 
find  within  your  breafta  ip-.rit  to  encounter  death,  referve" 
that  fpirit  for  the  glorious  occalion  of  ferving  your  coun- 
try and  your  prince.' 

The  ardor  of  the  young  foldier  fubfided  at  thefe  words 
into  wonder  and  admiration. — '  Forgive  me,  general,' 
fiid  he,  '  forgive  the  vehemence  which  I  now  blulh  to 
own  :  the  outrage  of  your  fortune  drove  me  to  excels  j 
while  you  condenm  my  zeal,  excufe  it  alio.' — *  I  do 
more,'  faid  Belifarius,  <  I  elleem  it  ;  it  is  the  emotion, 
the  tranfport  of  a  generous  mind,  but  let  me  now  direft 
it.  Your  family  will  have  need  of  you,  live  for  them  j 
and  let  your  children  imbibe  from,  you  an  averfion  to  the 
enemies  of  Belifarius.' — '  Name  them,'  faid  the  young 
foldier  with  impatience,  *  and  I  promife  you  my  children 
fliall  grow  up  from  the  cradle  in  mortal  hatred  of  them.' 
— *  My  enemies,'  replied  Belifarius,  *  are  the  Scythians, 
the  Huhs,  the  Bulgarians,  the  Sclavonians,  the  Periians, 
a;id  all  the  enemies  of  my  country.' — '  Thou  miracle  of 
virtue !'  laid  the  young  villager,  proftrating  himlelt  at  the 
feet  of  the  hero,  Belilarius  eiubraced  him,  and,  taking 
•his  leave,  *  There  are,'  faid  he,  '  in  this  mixed  ftate  in- 
evitable 


BELISARIU5.  27 

evitable  evils  ;  all  that  a  juft  man  can  do  Is  not  to  delerve 
the  portion  that  may  be  his  lot.  It,  herearter,  the  abule 
of  power,  the  perverfion  of  laws,  and  the  profperity  of 
bad  men,  fhould  move  yv^ur  indignation,  think  of  Beli- 
farius.  Farewei !' 

CHAP.  V. 

THE  philofophic  foul  of  Belirariusvcas  now  upon  the 
point  ot  encountering  a  trial  ftill  more  fevere  than 
any  he  had  yet  met  with ;  but  it  will  in  this  place  be 
proper  to  relate  vvhat  happened  when  the  hero  was  fint 
fcized,  and  hurried  away  to  prifon. 

On  the  night  when  he  was  loaded  with  fetters,  and 
like  a  Itate-cnminal  thrown  into  jail,  amazement,  grief, 
and  confternation,  filled  his  palace.  The  alami  which 
feized  his  wife  Antonina,  and  Eudoxa  his  only  daugh- 
ter, gave  a  piclure  of  dcfpair  and  agony  in  their  moft 
ftriking  colours.  At  length  Antonina  recovering  from 
her  fright,  and  calling  to  mhid  the  favours  which  the 
«mpre{s  had  lavifhed  on  her,  began  to  flatter  herfelt  that 
her  apprehenfions  were  groundlcfs  j  fhe  condemned,  with 
felf- reproach,  the  weaknd's  flie  had  betrayed.  Admitted 
to  an  intimacy  and  dcarnel's  with  Theodora,  the  com- 
panion and  fliarer  of  all  her  focial  pleasures,  fhe  depended 
upon  fuppoit  from  that  quarter,  or  at  Icaft  flie  believed 
that  Theodora  was  her  friend.  In  this  perfuafion  fhe 
attended  the  levee  of  the  emprefs,  and  failing  on  her 
knees  in  the  face  of  the  whole  court — *  Madam,'  faid  fhe, 

*  if  to  have  defended  and  faved  the  emp.re  on  various  oc- 
cafions  has  been  the  dlttinguifhed  lot  of  Belifarius,  that 
the  guilt  now  imputed  to  him  may  be  examined  in  opea 
daylight,  and  that  his  accusers  may  confront  him  at  the 
tribunal  of  the  emperor,  is  now  the  reccmipenfe  he  afks 
for  all  his  generous  labours:  a  free  trial,  and  the  op- 
portunity of  contounding  his  enemies,  is  the  only  favour 
he  can  with  honour  accept.'  Theodora  made  her  a  ugn 
to  rife,  and  with  a  look  of  frigid  indiffere'-ce  anfwered, 

*  It  Belifarius  is  innocent,  he  has  nothing  to  fear;  if 
the  charge  be  true,  he  is  no  Itranger  to  the  clemency  of 

C  2  his 


28  EELISARIVS, 

bis  mafter,  and  he  knows  the  foft  acceffes  to  his  heart. 
You  may  v/ithdraw,  madam,  in  full  confidence  that  I 
rtgaid  you  j  I  (liall  not  eafiiy  forget  that  I  have  dilHn- 
guilhed  you  by  my  favours.'  This  cold  reception,  and 
the  abrupt  manner  of  the  conclufion,  quite  overpowered 
Antonina  j  (lie  retired  pale  and  trembling,  and  of  all  the 
beholders,  not  one  dared  to  lift  an  eye  towards  her.— 
Barfames,  whom  (he  met,  would  have  paiTed  by  unno- 
ticed, if  (he  had  not  addrefitd  herfelt  to  him :  Barfames 
was  the  miniiier  of  the  treafury,  and  the  favourite  of 
Theodora.  She  intreated  him  to  infonri  her  what  was 
the  crime  laid  to  the  charge  of  Bciiiarius.  *  I  inform 
you,  madam  P  (ays  Barfames  j  '  I  am  totally  in  the  dark  j 
a  ftranger  to  this  aifair  ;  1  have  nothing  in  my  power  ; 
I  know  nothing,  nor  do  I  interl^re  in  any  thing  but  the 
duty  of  my  department :  if  every  body  followed  the  lame 
rule,  the  peace  of  the  world  would  be  lefs  difturbed.' 

*  Ah  r  fays  Antonina,  '  the  plot,  I  fee,  is  deeply  laid, 
and  Beliiarius  is  undone.'  A  little  further  on  fne  met  a  man 
who  owed  his  all  to  her,  and  who,  en  the  preceding  day, v.-as 
entirely  devoted  to  her  ftrvice.  She  made  an  attempt  to 
expoftulate  and  canvafs  the  aff.nr  with  him  ;  but  with- 
out deigning  to  hear  her—'  I  know  your  misfortunes,' 
faid  he,  '  and  I  am  forely  mortified  ;  but  I  muft  beg 
your  pardon,  I  have  a  bufmefs  to  foiicit,  and  there  is 
not  a  moment  to  be  loft :  I  raulf  leave  you,  madam  j 
but  be  afl'ured,  that  nobody  is  more  zealoufly  attached 
to  you.'  Antonina  went  in  que(t  of  her  daughter,  and 
in  an  hour's  time  (he  received  dircclions  to  depart  the 
city.  The  old  cattle  already  mentioned  was  alTigned  the 
place  of  her  exile. 

The  very  fight  of  this  caftle,  folitary  and  In  ruin,  fill- 
ed the  heart  of  Antonina  with  coniternation ;  here  (lie 
confidered  herfelf  as  buried,  and  a  fit  of  illnefs  feized  her 
foon  after  her  arrival.  The  tender  Eudoxa,  diftra6ltd 
by  the  idea  of  a  father  impeached,  loaded  with  irons, 
and  given  up  a  prey  to  his  enemies  j  di(h-a6led  further  at 
the  fight  of  a  mother  ready  to  break  her  heart  with  an- 
guifi)  j  underwent  the  ievcreft  agonies  of  mind.     Allhcr 

days. 


EELI3ARIUS.  2^ 

ibys,  her  beft,  her  ycuthrul  days,  were  confumed  in 
offices  of  tenderncls  to  her  afflicted  mother  j  each  night 
fne  was  bathed  in  tears,  and  in  that  lufpenfe  of  pain, 
when  weary  nature  finks  down  to  relt,  hei  fiumbers  were 
ever  troubled  with  the  moll  horrid  dreams.  The  image 
of  her  tather  plunged  into  a  dungeon's  gloom,  and  bend- 
ing under  the  weight  or  galling  chains,  was  ever  prefcnt 
to  her:  and  her  apprehenfions  for  her  mother  increaled 
the  terrors  of  the  vilionaiy  fcene. 

Antonina  had  been  converlant  in  courts,  and  the  tho- 
rough knowledge  fhe  had  of  them,  forever  painted  to  her 
fancy  the  rage  of  pedecution  let  loole  again  It  her  huf- 
band.  «  What  a  triumph,'  faid  flie,  *  for  thofe  ma- 
lignant fpirits,  who  for  a  feries  of  years  have  thought 
themlelves  depreffed  by  the  virtues  of  a  great  and  virtu- 
ous man  !  how  will  they  now  exult  in  his  downfal  1  I 
fee  before  me  the  ghalfly  fmiie  of  malice,  the  myiterious 
air  ot  calumny,  that  affeifs  to  conceal  what  it  knows, 
and  would  appear  tender  to  the  man  whom  it  is  ready  to 
ftab.  Dettfted  flatterers !  ye  fawning  fycophants !  I  ihc 
ye  all,  and  hear  ycur  crutl  infults  on  our  mistortunes. 
Oh,  my  daughter!  in  your  diitrefs  you  may  at  leaft  en- 
joy the  conlolaticn  that  you  have  nothing  to  reproach 
yourfelf ;  as  to  me,  I  have  more  reaicn  to  blufn  for  my 
former  felicities  than  my  prefent  calamities.  The  fagc 
advice,  and  all  the  piaidtnt  icirons,  your  father  ufed  to 
give  me  were  little  heeded  by  me }  they  vvere  too  impor- 
tunate :  in  vain  he  counfelled  me  to  Hiun  the  baits  of 
plealure  and  of  courts,  to  think  that  my  trueft  dignity 
conhfted  in  iimpiicity  of  manners,  that  the  iineercft  hap- 
pmels  was  to  be  found  in  domeftic  enjoyment,  and  that 
it  would  be  the  triumph  of  my  lex  to  bid  adieu  to  vani-i 
ties  that  would  vanifn  like  a  dream,  or  end  in  ihame.— ■ 
His  remonllrances  appeared  to  me  to  be  the  ovei-flowings 
of  ipleen,  and  I  complained  of  his  fuilen  humour  to  nis 
very  enemies.  What  giddy  inattention  was  mine  !  and 
ROW  what  a  fad  reverfe !  The  buriting  of  the  llcrm  awak- 
ened me  to  refledlion,  and  I  never  law  the  abyfs  till  I 
was  tumbling  into  it.  If  you  knew,  my  child,  the  cold 
C  3  averted 


30  EELISARIUS. 

averted  air  with  which  the  empiel's  dlfmKted  me  !  even 
file  to  whom  my  foul  was  enllaved  !  whofe  every  whim 
was  the  rule  of  my  actions,  the  inclination  of  my  heart ! 
Oh  !  that  court,  which  on  the  eve  of  our  misfortunes 
fmiled  with  a  general  complacence  on  me  !  the  falli;,  in- 
fidious  train  !  not  one  of  them,  when  they  favv  me  leav- 
ing it  like  an  outcail,  with  eyes  dejefted  and  fwoln  with 
tears,  not  one  of  them  would  acknowledge  me  I  In 
courts,  my  child,  misfortune  has  the  qualities  of  a  plague, 
and  makes  you  fliunned  by  all.'" 

Such  were  the  reflei5lions  of  this  unfortunate  woman, 
whole  eyes  were  now  opened  to  the  fallacies  of  courts, 
though  the  aifedions  of  her  heart  were  not  yet  alienated 
from  them.  She  delpifed  her  former  vanities,  and  yet 
loved  them  ft  ill. 

An  entire  year  paiTed  away  without  any  tidings  of 
B^lifarius  j  a  confpiracy  had  been  detefled,  the  hero  was 
charged  with  being  the  author  of  it,  and  the  voice  of  his 
enemies,  which  was  called  the  public  voice,  pronounced 
him  guilty  of  the  treafon.  Tlie  principal  confp'.rators  had 
fuffcrcd  death  In  determined  illKnce,  without  the  fmallcd 
intimation  of  their  leader  5  upon  this  was  founded  pre- 
fumptive  proof  againft  Belilkrms,  and,  for  want  of  po- 
fitive  evidence,  he  was  left  to  langulfli  in  a  dungeon,  in 
hopes  that  his  death  would  fuperiede  the  neceHity  of  clear 
conviftion.  In  the  mean  time,  the  old  difbAnded  fol- 
diery,  who  now  were  mingled  with  the  people,  clamour- 
ed for  the  enlargement  of  their  general,  and  were  ready 
to  vouch  for  h"s  innocence  :  a  popular  miurreil ion  fol- 
lowed, univerfdly  menacing  to  force  the  prKbn  doors, 
unlefs  he  was  im.mediately  let  at  liberty.  This  tumult 
enraged  the  emperor.  Theodora  perceiving  it,  manag- 
ed artiully  to  feize  the  moment  of  ill-humour  and  paflion, 
kno^-tng  that  then  only  he  was  capable  of  injultice. — 
*  Well,'  laid  /lie,  <  let  him  be  given  up  to  the  populace 
after  he  is  rendered  unable  to  command  them.'  The  hor- 
rible advice  prevailed  :  it  was  the  deciiive  judgment 
againft  Belifarius. 

When  the  people  faw  him  come  forth  without  an  eye 

in 


EELISARIUS.  -I 

in  his  head,  a  general  bur.t  ot  rage  and  lamentation  hd- 
cd  the  city.  Bclilarius  appeafed  the  tumult.  *  My  friends 
and  countrymen,'  laid  he,  '  your  emperor  has  been  im- 
po  fed  upon}  every  man  is  liable  to  error;  it  is  our  bu- 
linefs  to  regret  Jullinian's  error,  and  to  ("erve  him  Itill ; 
my  innocence  is  now  the  only  good  they  have  left  me  j 
let  me  poffefs  it  dill.  The  revult  which  you  threaten 
cannot  reftore  what  I  have  loft,  but  it  may  deprive  me 
of  the  only  confolation  that  remains  in  my  breriii.'  The 
fwelling  fpirits  of  the  populace  fubfided  at  thefe  words 
into  a  perteft  calm ;  they  offered  him  all  they  were 
worth.  Belifarius  thanked  them — '  All  I  will  a(k,' 
fays  he,  *  is  one  of  your  boys  to  guide  my  fteps  to  the 
alylum  where  my  family  expefts  me. 

The  adventure  with  the  Bulgarians  canied  Belifarius 
out  of  his  way,  while  Tiberius  prefixed  for.vard  to  the 
retreat  of  his  exiled  family.  The  rattling  of  a  carriage 
in  the  court-yard  of  the  caftle  gave  a  Ibdden  emotion  of 
hope  and  joy  to  Antcnlna  and  her  daughter  Eudoxa  :  the 
latter  ran  forth  in  the  ftrongeft  agitations  of  mind  ;  bur, 
alas  !  inllead  of  her  father,  difappointed  to  fee  a  youth- 
ful llranger,  Ihe  returned  difconfolate  to  her  mother,  and 
with  a  figh  pronouiiced — '  it  is  not  he  ! ' 

Anfclma,  a  faithful  old  fervant  in  the  family,  ap- 
pearing in  the  court  yard — '  Pray,  honeft  friend,'  faid 
Tiberius,  *  is  not  this  the  letrcat  of  Belifarius  r' — '  His 
wife  and  daughter  cxped  him  here,'  faid  the  faithful 
Anfelmo, '  but  their  hopes  have  hitherto  proved  abortive  j 
would  to  heaven  I  could  fuffer  for  him,  fo  he  were  at  li- 
berty!'— <  He  is  at  liberty,'  replied  Tiberius  j  '  he  is 
on  his  journey  hither  J  you  will  feehimfoon;  he  ought 
to  have  been  arrived  before  now.' — *  Oh!  walk. in,  walk; 
in,  and  communicate  the  news  to  his  family;  I  will 
fhew  you  the  way.' — '  Madam,'  exclaimed  Anfelmo, 
running  eagerly  towards  Antonina,  '  I  have  news  for 
you,  madam  ;  rejoice  and  be  of  good  heart,  my  maftec 
lives ;  he  is  free,  they  have  rellored  him  to  you  ;  a  g;;- 
nerous  young  man  brings  the  happy  tidings  :  bethought 
to  have  found  hiiw  here.'    At  thefe  words,  Antonina 

funimcned 


3*  EELISARIUS. 

ilimmonecl  up  all  her  fpirits — '  Where  is  tlie  generous 
ftranger,  the  virtuous  youth  who  interefts  himfelf  in  our 
affliflions?  Shew  him  inj  let  rr.e  fee  him.'  Antonina 
uttered  thefe  words  with  a  quick  vehemence  of  joy.— • 
*  Our  miferies  are  ended  now,'  exclai.med  Eudoxa,  throw- 
ing herfelf  upon  her  mother's  bed,  and  folding  her  in 
her  arms ;  '  my  father  lives,  he  is  at  liberty,  and  we 
fhall  fee  him  once  more  :  let  us,  my  deareft  mother,  for- 
get our  woes }  heaven  has  not  deferted  us  j  we  Ihaii  all 
meet  again.' 

*  And  do  you  then  recal  me  back  to  life,'  faid  An- 
tonina to  Tiberius  ?  *  has  my  huiband  triumphed  over 
his  enemies  at  laft  ?'  Tiberius,  inwardly  alfli6\ed  that 
he  had  only  a  mockery  of  joy  to  offer  them,  calmly  an- 
anfwered,  *  That  Belifarius  was  indeed  alive ;  that  he 
had  feen  him,  had  converfed  with  him,  and  that,  ima- 
gining he  had  before  now  reached  his  home,  he  came  to 
tender  him  the  little  offices  of  friendlhip  and  good  neigh- 
bourhood.' 

Eudoxa,  whofe  eyes  were  rivetted  to  Tiberius,  plainly 
faw  the  fymptoms  of  infelt  grief  through  the  Itruggles  of 
the  youth  to  fupprefs  them.  *  You  bring  with  you,* 
faid  flie,  '  the  words  or  joy  and  comfort  to  the  affli6led, 
and  yet,  amidft  the  gladfome  tidings,  I  mark  an  air  of 
dejection  that  fpeaks  fome  concealed  affli6lion !  Does  our 
mifeiy  deprefs  you  then  ?  Give  me  back  my  father  j  let 
him  return,  and  bring  health  with  him  to  my  unhappy 
mother,  then  you  Hiall  fee  whether  riches  are  necellary 
to  make  us  happy.' 

In  tender  and  pathetic  fcenes  like  thefe,  the  force  of 
Eature  is  fo  infmuating,  that  Eudoxa  had  no  need  of 
other  charms  than  the  lentiments  flie  uttered  to  melt  and 
engage  the  heart  of  Tiberius.  To  the  grace  of  herper- 
fon  he  was  inattentive  j  he  only  faw  an  affeftionate  and 
virtuous  daughter,  whom  a  becoming  firmnefs  of  mind, 
pious  lefignation,  and  duty  to  a  father,  rendered  I'upe- 
rior  to  calamity.  *  Imagine  not,'  faid  he,  *  that  the 
fentiments  of  humanity  which  I  have  ventured  to  ex- 
pi  els,  have  any  tin^^ure  of  pride  or  inlulting  pity.— 

Whatever 


BELISARIUS.  33 

Whatever  be  the  condition  to  which  Belirarlus  and  lus 
family  are  r<;duced,  their  mist'ortunes  wili  ever  be  illui- 
trious,  and  the  obje5t  of  envy  liilK' — '  Why  do  yoa 
talk  of  misfortune  P'  replied  the  mother  j  *  if  they  have 
reftored  my  hu(band  to  his  liberty,  they  arc  convinced  cf 
his  innocence  J  he  mult  therefore  be  eftablifned  in  his  for- 
mer pofkiTions.' 

*  M?.dam,'  faid  Tiberius,  *  it  would  be  to  keep  you 
in  cruel  fufpenfe,  merely  to  wound  you  deeper  at  lait,  if 
I  were  to  cherifh  any  loothing  hopes  in  refpeil  to  his 
condition.  To  his  popularity  alone  he  is  indebted  to 
his  freedom  j  the  court  has  yielded  to  the  dread  of  an 
infurreftion  :  but  in  complying  with  the  demands  of  the 
people,  they  have  fent  him  forth  as  wretched  as  they 
could  make  him.' 

'  No  matter,'  fays  Eudoxa,  with  her  amiable  fenfi- 
bllity  of  heart ;  *  if  they  do  but  leave  us  a  little  land  to 
cultivate,  we  fhall  not  be  lei's  happy  than  the  honeft 
country-folks  whom  I  fee  abroad  in  the  fields." — '  Gra- 
cious heaven  !'  exchumed  Tiberius,  *  the  daughter  of 
Belifarius  humbled  to  this  low  utuatlon  V — '  This  low 
fituation!'  replied  Eudoxa  ;  *  it  was  not  unworthy  of 
the  heroes  of  Rome,  wlien  Rome  was  free  and  virtuous. 
Belifarius  will  not  blufli  to  be  another  Regulus  ;  my 
mother  and  I  have  learned  in  exile  domeltic  cares  and 
the  arts  of  ceconomy  :  my  honoured  father  fhaii  wear  a 
coat  fpun  by  his  own  daughter's  hand.' 

Tears  guAied  down  the  check  of  Tiberius,  as  he 
marked  thj  pure  heartfelt  joy  tliat  warmed  and  animated 
the  wlioie  frame  of  the  lovely  Eudoxa.  *  Alasl'iaidhs 
within  himfelr,  *  what  a  piteous  llroke  will  prefently 
awaken  her  from  this  iilufionl'  With  eyes  bent  down- 
ward to  the  ground,  he  Itood  before  her,  immovable,  in 
forrow  and  filence. 

CHAP.  VI. 

BELISARIUS   was  now  entering  the  court  vr'id  of 
the  caftle.     Honelf  Anfelmo  faw  him  j  advancing 
nearer,  he  recolkiled  his  malUr,  and,  traufported  with 


S4  EELISARIUS, 

joy,  pieffed  eagerly  forward  to  fhew  him  in :  but  fooa 
perceiving  that  he  was  blind — <  Oh  heaven,'  faid  An- 
lelmo,  '  Oh,  my  malier  !  have  I  lived  to  this  ?'  Thefe 
words,  broken  and  intemiixed  with  frequent  fobbings, 
gave  Belifarius  to  underftand  that  it  was  his  old  faithful 
fervant  Anfelmo.  The  poor  fellow  proftrated  himfelf 
at  the  hero's  feet,  and  embraced  his  knees.  Belifarius 
raifed  him  from  the  ground ,  and,  having  affuaged  his 
grief  by  exhortations,  bid  him  lead  the  way  to  his  wife 
and  daughter. 

At  the  fight  Eudoxa  gare  a  great  fcream  and  fwooned 
away.  Antonina,  who  was  ill  of  a  flow  confuniing  fever, 
was  feized  with  the  molt  frantic  violence :  with  all  the 
force  of  fudden  fury  fl^e  ftarted  from  her  bed,  and,  break- 
ing from  the  hold  of  Tiberius  and  the  woman  that  nurf- 
ed  her,  made  an  effort  to  dafh  herfelf  againfl  the  floor. 
Eudoxa  returning  to  her  Itnfes,  and  animated  by  the 
fhrieks  of  htr  mother,  flew  to  her  affiilance,  ind  catching 
Jier  in  her  arms,  implored  her  to  forbear  out  of  compaf- 
fion  to  her  daughter.  *  Oh,  let  me,  let  me  die,'  re- 
plied the  diftrafted  mother  ;  *  if  I  mull:  live,  I  will  live 
to  revenge  his  wrongs,  and  to  tear  piece- meal  the  hearts 
of  his  barbarous  enemies.  The  monfters  of  iniquity  !  is 
that  his  recompenfe  ?  But  for  him  they  would  all  long 
ago  have  been  buried  in  the  ruins  of  their  palaces  :  he 
has  prolonged  their  tyranny,  that  is  his  crime  1  for  that 
he  fuffers  ;  for  that  he  has  made  atonement  to  the  peo- 
p'e.  Barbarity  unheard  of !  detefted  treachery !  the 
pillar  of  the  ifate !  their  deliverer!  Execrable  court  ! 
a  fct  of  blood- hounds  met  in  council !  Juft  heaven,  are 
thefe  your  ways  ?  Behold,  innocence  is  oppreHed,  and 
you  look  tamely  on  !  Behold,  the  fa6lors  of  deftru6lion 
iriumph  in  their  guilt !' 

Amidfl  this  agony  of  grief,  fhe  fcattered  her  hair  about 
the  room  in  fragments,  and  with  her  own  hands  defaced 
her  features:  now  with  open  arms  fhe  rullied,  upon  her 
lord,  and  clafping  him  to  her  heart,  poured  forth  her 
tears,  as  if  fhe  would  drown  him  with  her  forrows; 
then,   abruptly  turning  to  her  daughter — '  Die,  thoii 

wretch  !' 


m' 


r%. 


BELI3AR1U3.  35 

wretch!'  fhe  faid,  '  elcape  from  a  bad  world!  here  is 
nought  but  miiery  for  virtue,  and  triumph  for  vice  and 
infamy.' 

To  this  violtrxe  a  mortal  languor  flicceeded.  The 
ftorm  of  pafhon  gave  a  fit  of  momentary  ftrenglh,  the 
more  effectual  to  deftroy.  In  a  few  hours  after  ftie 
breathed  her  laft. 

And  now,  Tiberius,  what  a  fcene  had  you  before 
your  eves?  A  blind  old  man,  his  wife  lying  dead,  a 
daughter  in  the  lail  extremity  of  anguilh  ;  tears,  fnrieks, 
and  lamentations  all  around  !  This  was  the  fituation, 
the  fad  cataftrophe  in  which  fortune  exhibited  a  family, 
which  for  thirty  years  had  flour; (lied  in  every  fplendour 
and  dignity  of  life.  The  words  ot  a  renowned  philofo- 
pher  here  occurred  to  T:berius :  *  Behold,'  fays  he,  *  a 
fpeciacle  which  heaven  furveys  v/ith  pleafure  j  a  great 
man  wrcftling  with  adverfity,  and  by  his  courage  invin- 
cible to  the  laftr 

Belifarius  did  not  endeavour  to  control  either  his  own 
grief  or  that  of  his  daughter ;  he  permitted  a  free  vent 
to  both;  but  as  focn  as  he  had  paid  to  nature  the  tnbute 
of  a  feeling  heart,  he  realTumed  his  ftrength,  and  emerg- 
ed from  his  :;ffli6lions  with  true  fortitude  of  mind. 

Tliough  the  anguilh  of  Eudoxa  was  not  abated,  yet, 
left  llie  fliould  renew  her  father's  troubles,  (he  endea- 
voured to  fupprefs  her  forrows  ;  but  ftill  the  old  general, 
as  he  embraced  her,  found  him.felf  moiftened  with  her 
tears.  *  You  affli^f  yourfeIf,my  child,  you  alHiil  your- 
felf  on  account  of  accidents  which,  inftead  of  deprcshng 
us,  ought  to  invigorate  our  fouls,  and  raife  us  above 
misfortune  and  difgrace.  Your  mother,  after  having 
atoned  for  the  errors  of  her  former  lire,  is  fafe  in  eternal 
peace.  She  now  looks  down  v^ith  pity  upon  us,  and 
com.mlferates  the  lot  that  detains  us  in  this  bad  world. 
That  cold,  inanimaied  corpfe,  which  lies  there  devoid 
of  motion,  is  an  emblem  of  the  tranquillity  her  foul  en- 
joys. Thus  then  you  behold  how  vain  and  tranfitcry 
are  all  the  calamities  of  life  j  a  breath  of  wir.d  comes, 
and  ail  is  vaiiiftied.     The  empire  «nd  the  fpiendour  of 

it 


^6  BELISARIl/S. 

its  court  have  faded  away  irom  the  eyes  of  your  mother  j 
and  now,  in  the  bofoni  of  her  God,  ihc  beholds  this 
world  35  a  little  fpeck  in  the  immenlltv  of  fpace.  Thefe 
are  reflt6lior.s  founded  on  wifdom  5  theie  are  reflexions 
that  adminifccr  to  the  virtuous  mind  all  its  confolation, 
its  beft  fupport  in  the  hour  of  adverfity.' — *  Oh  !  give 
me  that  fupport,  afnft  ray  feeble  fex  encompalfed  thus 
with  wretchednefs  and  mifcry.  I  could  have  borne  up 
againil  any  misfortune  that  could  befal  me  j  but  to  be- 
hold a  moil'.cr  broken-hearted,  a  tender  parent,  whom 
my  heart  adored,  expiring  within  my  arms!  and  thus 
to  fee  you  too,  thou  belt  of  fathers,  in  this  deplorable 
cono'iiion,  to  which  your  enemies  have  reduced  ycu  I" — 
*  Alas!  my  daughter,'  replied  Eciiiarius,  *  in  deipoil- 
jr.g  me  of  my  eyes,  they  :id  no  m,ore  than  the  infirnuties 
of  age  or  death  would  ftiortly  have  done  j  and  as  to  what 
refpecls  my  fortune,  you  little  knew  the  u(e  of  affluence, 
if  you  do  not  know  how  to  disregard  it/ — *  Oh  1  wit- 
r.els  for  me,  heaven,'  faid  Eudoxa,  '  it  is  not  the  loi's 
of  fortune  that  can  give  me  a  moment's  pain.' — *  Then 
jet  nothing  cKfrefs  your  fpint,'  replied  the  venerable  fa- 
ther ;  and  with  his  hand  he  wiped  the  falling  tear  from 
her  cheek. 

Beliiarius  being  infonr.ed  that  a  young  ftranger  de- 
fu-ed  to  fpcak  with  him,  gave  him  admittance,  and  afk- 
ed  the  intention  of  his  vifit.  •  It  is  not  now  a  time,' 
anfwered  Tiberius,  <  to  offer  confolation  to  ycu  :  thou 
illulfrious  unfortunate,  I  refpecl  your  ibrrcws  j  I  take 
a  fhare  in  your  afRiclions,  and  it  is  my  earneit  prayer  to 
heaven  that  I  may  hereafter  be  enabled  to  aii'uage  them  j 
till  then,  all  I  can  do  is  to  mix  niy  tears  vviih  yours.' 

It  was  rO\v  time  to  perform  the  funeral  obtequies  :  Be- 
Jilarius,  fupported  and  guided  by  histlanghter,  attended 
the  remains  o-  his  wife  to  their  laft  dcpofitoiy.  His 
grief  upon  the  occafion  was  that  of  a  philofophei-  j  it  v.  as 
dtep  hut  liient }  inwardly  isk,  but  outwardly  compoicd  : 
his  face  was  clouded  with  m-cK-mcholy,  but  a  grave  and 
featimental  melancholy.  With  a  m.ien  ere6t,  and  a 
Heady  countenance,  he  did  not  fo  much  feem  to  brave 

his 


BELISARIUS.  57 

his  fornmc,  as  to  refign  himlclf  to  its  ftroke  with  a  dig- 
tiity  ot  ibriow. 

Tiberius  afllfted  at  the  mournful  ceremcny;  he  beheld 
the  fond  regret  of  Eudoxa,  and  he  returned  deeply  af- 
ftfted  by  the  lalt  duties  which  flie  payed  to  the  mcinoiy 
of  her  mother. 

Belifarius  addrefTed  h'mfelfto  him  in  thefe  words:  — 
<  I  perceive,  generous  youth,  that  it  is  to  your  humanity 
I  am  indebted  for  recommendations  on  my  road  hither  j 
inftru6\  me  who  you  are,  and  to  what  motive  I  am  to 
attribute  your  good  offices.' — *  My  name  is  Tiberius,' 
replied  the  youth  ;  *  I  carried  arms  under  Narfus  in 
Italy,  and  I  have  fmce  fer\'cd  in  the  wars  of  Colchis. — 
I  was  one  of  the  hunting  party  to  whoin  you  applied  for 
fhelter,  and  whole  indifcretion  you  lb  propei  ly  cliecked  ; 
I  have  ever  fi;  ce  feverely  cenfured  myfelf  for  not  mak- 
ing my  apology,  and  requciling  a  further  favour  of  you. 
I  am  placed  in  a  ftate  ot  affluence  :  that  m.ay  be  a  mis- 
fortune J  but  if  you  will  concur  with  me,  good  may  be 
deduced  from  evil.  Near  this  phce  I  have  a  country- 
feat,  and  it  is  the  heiglit  of  my  ambition  to  conftcrate  it 
to  the  ufe  of  an  exiled  hero.  It  will  bepreluming  upon  a 
ilender  title,  to  tell  you  of  the  refpecl  and  veneration  I 
entertain  for  your  character :  he  who  loves  his  country, 
inuft,  by  a  natural  confequence,  feel  the  difgrace  of  Beli- 
farius, and  wiOi  to  foittii  his  calamities  j  but  perhaps  I 
can  urge  a  claim  thai  will  touch  you  nearer,  and  in  ibme 
degree  folicit  for  me.  You  will  not  wholly  del'pife  the 
ambition  of  a  young  man, who  pants  to  be  admitted  to 
the  intimacy  of  an  illulhious  hero,  that  in  his  converfe 
he  may  drink,  as  it  were,  at  the  fountain-head  of  wif- 
dom,  of  honour,  and  ot  Virtue.' 

'  You  pay  a  couipliment  to  my  old  age,'  replied  Be- 
lifarius ;  *  but,  however,  the  intereil  you  fecm  to  take 
in  my  misfortunes  befpeaks  a  well-turned  Ipirit  and  an 
elegance  of  mind.  At  prelent  you  muit  excufe  me  j  re- 
tirement and  felf  converie  are  what  I  muft  now  have  re- 
courie  to  :  the  agitation  of  my  fplrits  muft  be  compofed 
by  hicnt  meditation.  Hereafter  I  lliall  fo  far  accept  your 
iif  propoial. 


^3  BELISARIUS. 

propofal,  as  to  wifh  to  live  in  good  neighbourhood  with 
you,  and  to  maintain  a  friendly  intercourfe.  I  have  a 
regard  for  youth  5  in  that  happy  feaibn  of  life,  the  foul, 
as  yet  unhackneyed  in  the  ways  of  men,  is  lufceptible 
of  every  fine  impreflion ;  the  fublime  and  the  beautiful 
of  virtue  inflame  it  with  a  laudable  enthufiafm ;  and 
worldly  palTicns  have  not  yet  entangled  it  in  their  fnares. 
Your  vifits  will  ever  be  acceptable;  call  upon  me  often  j 
I  fhall  be  glad  toconverfe  with  you.' 

*  If  I  am  vv'orthy  of  that  honourable  commerce,'  re- 
plied Tiberius,'  '  why  may  I  not  poflefs  you  wholly  ? 
My  anctlfors  will  applaud  the  ufe  I  make  of  the  piitri- 
mony  they  tranfmitted  to  me,  when  it  is  rendered  lacred 
by  the  retreat  of  Belifarius.  Honour,  rei'pe<5f,  and  re- 
verence, will  then  be  yours,  and  my  whole  houfehold 
train  will  learn  to  emulate  my  example  in  treating  you 
with  every  rank  of  veneration.' 

*  I  read,  yourg  man,  the  characters  of  virtue  in  all 
your  words,'  returned  Belifarius ;  *  but  let  us  do  no- 
thing rafhly.  Give  me  to  underftand,  for  it  is  now  ten 
years  fince  I  have  been  fequeftered  from  the  world,  what 
is  your  father's  ftation  ?  and  what  are  his  defigns  in  re- 
gard to  your  future  fettlement  in  lifeT — *  We  are  de- 
fcended,'  replied  Tiberius,  *  from  one  of  thofe  families 
which  Conftantine  tranfplanted  from  Rome,  and  honour- 
ed v.'ith  his  highell  favours.  He  was  efteemed  and  che- 
rifhed  by  his  iovereign.  In  the  reign  of  the  emperor 
Juftin,  my  father  acquired  no  fmall  fliare  of  military 
glory.  In  the  luccecdmg  reign  undue  preferences  were 
given  to  others  j  at  lealf  he  thought  fo,  and  retired  in  dif- 
conteiit.  Of  that  dllcontent  he  has  fince  repented,  and 
now  for  his  Ion  he  forms  fchemes  of  ambition,  which  he 
n;:gle61ed  for  himfelf/ — '  You  have  opened  enough  to 
me,'  faid  Belifarius,  *  and  I  will  not  be  an  obftacle  to 
your  advancement.  You  have  convinced  me  that  the 
difpofitions  of  your  heart  are  good  :  tlie  pleafure  arifuig 
from  a  generous  way  of  thinking  feems  at  once  to  be 
your  motive  and  your  recompenfc  j  and  indeed  that  plea- 
lure  is  the  fwettell  the  mind  can  feel,     £uL  I  forelee  a 

danger 


I 


BELISARIUS.  39 

danger  of  which  you  are  not  aware  :  by  vlfiting  me,  you 
will  Involve  yourl'elf  in  the  ruin  of  a  man  profcribed. — 
For  let  me  tell  you,  my  worthy  young  friend,  that  a 
court,  whether  right  or  wrong  in  its  meaiures,  never 
properly  reviews  its  own  deeds  j  it  never  reforms  its  con- 
duR.  Does  it  punifh  a  real  criminal:  he  will  foon  be 
forgotten.  But  has  it  injured  the  man  of  blamelefs  inte- 
gi-ity  :  he  will  be  perl'ecuted  with  unrelenting  hatred  j 
for  the  very  mention  of  his  name  is  a  fatire  on  the  times, 
and  his  exiftence  is  to  the  confclenc^  of  his  enemies  an 
unceafing  remembrance  of  guilt.' 

*  I  take  upon  me  all  the  rill:,'  fays  Tiberius,  <  I  will 
be  refponlible  for  my  conduct.  The  em^ieror  may  have 
erred,  but  he  Is  ever  open  to  convidlon.' 

*  If  you  mean  that  he  will  be  open  to  convi^lion  in 
regard  to  me,'  fays  Bellfarius,  *  you  mult  not  lofe  a 
thought  that  way.  The  mealure  of  my  woes  is  full  j 
the  mifchief  is  done ;  and  may  the  emperor,  for  the 
fpace  of  his  future  days,  forget  it  all.' 

*  Since  you  have  gone  lb  far,'  replied  Tiberius,  «  let 
me  infilt  upon  a  further  a6t  of  generofity,  to  crown  the 
whole.  Preferve  Juftlnian  from  the  eternal  reproach  of 
letting  you  languilh  away  the  remainder  of  your  days  in 
mifery.  The  humiliating  condition  in  which  I  find  you, 
is  (hocking  to  humanity,  a  diflionour  to  the  crown,'  the 
horror  of  every  honeit  mind,  and  the  utter  difcourage- 
ment  of  all  virtue  like  your  own.' 

*  The  virtue,'  replied  Bellfarius,  *  that  will  be  dlf- 
couraged  by  misfortunes,  is  not  like  ray  own.  But  to 
deal  frankly,  I  think  it  poflible,  as  you  feem  to  do,  that 
my  wretched  condition  may  awaken  the  mingled  paf- 
fions  of  pity  and  indignation.  A  poor  blind  old  man 
can  give  no  umbrage,  and  may  excite  compaflion.  For 
that  reafon,  I  am  determined  to  live  in  oblcurity.  If  I 
made  myfelt  known  to  your  friends,  it  was  in  an  un- 
guarded moment,  when  I  was  provoked  by  the  intem- 
psrance  of  the  company  beyond  the  bounds  of  patience. 
It  fhall  be  the  laft  indilcretion  of  my  life,  and  this  afy- 
lum  fhall  be  my  grave.     Fai-ewel!    The  emperor  may 

D  z  perhaps 


40  BELISARIUS. 

perhaps  be  ignorant  that  the  Bulgarians  have  entered 
Thrace  j  be  lure  to  inform  hi'.n  ot  it.' 

Tibeiius  withdrew,  net  a  little  difconcerted  at  the 
event  ofhis  negcciarion.  The  fum  of  all  that  pafled  he 
reported  to  Juitinian.  A  body  of  troops  was  immedi- 
atdy  put  in  motion  ;  and  in  a  few  days  the  public  tran- 
quillity was  confirmed  by  the  expulfion  of  the  Bulga- 
rians. '  Now  then,'  faid  the  emperor  to  Tiberius,  'we 
are  at  lelfiue  to  vlfit  the  unfortunate  general.  I  will 
pafs  myfelf  tor  your  father,  and  be  upon  your  guard  that 
nothing  fall  from  you  to  undeceive  him,'  Juftinian  had 
a  ledge  about  half  way  to  the  aiylum  of  Bellfarius. — 
Thither  he  betook  himfelf,  detached  from  his  train  of 
courtiers,  and  the  next  day  proceeded  on  his  vifit  to  the 
unfortunate  hero. 

CHAP.  VII. 

*  A  ND  Is  this  the  hero's,  refidence  ?  Is  this  the  habU 
JTjL  tation  of  him  who  fo   often  brought  me  vi6loiy 

and  triumph  !'  Thefe  were  the  words  of  Juftinian,  as  he 
pafled  under  an  old  portico  mouldering  into  ruin.  As  foon 
as  they  entered,  Belifarius  role  to  receive  them.  At  the 
fight  of  the  veneiabl*;  man,  the  emperor  felt  a  pang  of 
reamrle  and  (hame  for  the  condition  to  which  he  had  re- 
duced him.  An  exclamation  of  grief  broke  fiom  him, 
and  leaning  on  Tiberius,  he  covered  his  eyes  with  his 
hands,  as'if  unworthy  to  behold  the  light  which  the 
hero  faw  no  more. — '  What  mean  thofe  tones  of  grief  ?' 
fays  Belifarius.  *  I  have  brought  my  father  to  fee  you,' 
replied  Tiberius,  *  and  he  is  fenfibly  touched  by  your 
misfortunes.'—'  Where  is  he,'  faid  the  general,  Ibetch- 
ing  forth  iiis  hands.  *  Let  hira  come  to  my  embrace  j 
for  he  has  a  virtuous  fon.' — Juitinian  was  obliged  tu 
comply  with  the  requeft,  and  as  foon  as  he  felt  the  old 
jTian  prefling  to  his  bofom,  his  emotions  were  fo  ftrong 
and  tender,  that  he  was  unable  to  fupprefs  his  tears  and 
groans.     *  Rtftrain  this  violence  of  pity,'  faid  Belifarius  j 

*  perhaps  I  am  not  fo  wretclied  as  you  imagine.  Let  us 
diicoufle  a  little  about  what  concerns  ycurfelf  and  this 

youn^ 


BELISARIUS.  41 

young  man,  w!io  will  be  a  conitort  to  you  in  your  old 
age.' — *  Yes,'  replied  the  emperor,  in  fhort  and  inter- 
rupted accents,  *  yes — ifyouvvillcondefcend — to  let  him 
attend  your  le6lures  upon  human  lite.' — '  Alas !  what  can 
I  offer,'  faid  Belifarius,  *  that  a  wife  and  good  father  has 
not  already  anticipated  ?' — '  You  may  inftru6l  him,'  laid 
the  emperor,  '  in  what  I  perhaps  know  little  of,  the  ways 
of  courts,  where  he  mud  pals  his  days.  For  a  long 
time  I  have  had  fo  little  commerce  with  men,  that  the 
world  is  as  new  to  me  as  it  is  to  him.  But  you,  who 
have  feen  things  in  all  their  various  afpe6ls,  may  render 
him  ineftimable  fervice;  and  therefore  I  intreat  you  to 
unbofom  yourfclf  to  him.' — '  If  he  wants  to  give  liabi- 
lity to  fortune,'  faid  B>.^iifarius,  *  I  am  unfit  to  read  a 
leflbn  on  that  head,  as  you  perceive.  Would  he  learn 
to  be  an  honeft  man  at  the  hazard  of  all  that  is  dear  to 
him?  There  I  can  be  offome  ufe.  He  is  born  with 
bright  advantages,  and  that  is  a  prim.ary  requifite.' — ■ 

*  Very  true,'  laid  Juftinian,  '  he  is  delcended  from  a 
race  of  noble  anceftors.'  '  That  was  not  my  meaning  j 
but,  however,  that  is  an  advantage,  if  not  perverted  to 
a  wrong  ufe.  Have  you  ever,  young  man,'  continued 
Belifarius,  *  reflefted  upon  the  true  idea  of  nobility  ? 
It  is  a  letter  of  credit  given  you  by  your  country  upon 
the  fecurity  of  your  anceftors,  in  the  confidence  that,  at 
a  proper  period  of  life,  you  will  acquit  yourfc'f  ■•.vith  ho- 
nour to  thofe  who  ftand  engaged  for  you.' — *  But  that 
credit,'  fays  the   emperor,  '  is  often   rafiiiy   given.' — 

*  No  matter,'  refumed  Belifarius ;  «  it  is  notwithftand- 
ing  an  inftitution  ofufeful  policy.  I  imagine  to  myfclf, 
when  a  child  of  noble  defcent  comes  into  the  world,  nak- 
ed, v^'eak,  indigent,  and  helplefs,  like  the  offspring  of 
a  common  peafant,  I  then  imagine  to  myfelr  his  country 
g-reeting  him  in  this  manner :  *'  Welcome,  my  child  ! 
welcome  to  my  arms !  You  will  hereafter  be  devoted  to 
my  fervice,  intrepid,  gallant,  generous,  and  heroic  as 
your  famed  forefathers.  They  have  tranfmitted  to  you 
their  own  brilliant  example  ;  I  confer  upon  you  their  ti- 
tles and  their  honours,  ftrong  reafons  both  to  roufe  you 

D  3  to 


4.S  ^  BELlSARirS. 

to  an  emulation  of  their  virtues."  *  This  is  the  fokron 
fceue  I  figure  to  mylelf :  can  you  luggcll  any  thing  to 
your  fancy  mort:  awful  and  lublime  ?' — '  But  this  is  ra- 
ther carrying  it  too  far/  faid  Jullinian.— '  Not  a  jot/ 
replied  Belifarius  ;  '  in  the  education  of  young  minds, 
we  muft  propofe  nobly  to  them.  Let  me  add,  there  is 
frugality  in  dealing  out  pomp  and  honours  with  a  liberal 
hand.  Fov  fuppofe,  upon  a  fair  eftimate,  that  thefe  in- 
centives produce  only  two  or  three  great  men  in  a  cen- 
tury :  and  what  then  ?  The  ftate  has  nothing  to  com- 
plain of  i  nay,  it  has  ample  compeniation.  You,  young 
man,  mult  be  one  of  thole  who  are  to  make  this  com- 
penfation  to  your  country.'  Here  addreffing  himfelf  to 
the  emperor,  '  You  loave  allowed  me,'  fays  he,  *  to 
fpeak  in  the  llile  of  a  father  to  him.' — «  Do  it,  I  con- 
jure you,'  replied  Juftinlan. — '  Well  then,  my  fon,  you 
muft  begin  with  a  perfuafion  that  nobility  is  a  flame 
which  blazes  intenfcly  as  long  it  can  communicate  itfelf, 
but  dies  away  as  foon  as  it  wants  the  proper  materials  to 
keep  it  alive  and  to  lupport  it.  Be  mindful,  therefore, 
young  man,  of  your  bath,  for  it  impofes  duties  on  you  j 
be  mindful  of  your  anceltors,  for  the  example  they  have 
left  you  calls  for  your  utmolt  arduur  •-  remember,  that 
the  glory  from  them  devolved  upon  you,  is  not  an  inhe- 
ritance upon  which  you  are  lazily  to  fubfillj  and,  above 
all  things,  eradicate  from  your  heart  that  fupercilious 
pride  which  looks  big  with  the  conicioufnefs  of  a  family 
name, and  beholds  with  the  timorous  eye  of  fcorn and  jea- 
louly  every  preference  obtained  by  honeft  merit.  Am- 
bition has  in  its  nature  a  fpurious  fort  of  novelty,  and 
therefcire,  by  a  kind  of  congenial  influence,  readily  in- 
finuares  itfelf  into  the  minds  of  perfons  well  defcended  j 
but  this  pafllon,  when  carried  to  excefs,  is  tinged  with 
meanneis,  like  any  other  motive  of  the  heart.  Itfweils 
with  its  ov^n  importance,  becaufe  it  aflt;fls  an  air  fupe- 
jjor  to  all  the  duties  cf  an  honeft  man.  Would  you 
mark  its  operations,  and  know  its  chara6ler  dllt  i  D^y  ? 
Obierve  the  bird  of  prey,  how  it  hovers  over  th  rield 
■<4u  a  m.oiuir.g,  and  amidft  a  thoufand animals  marks  out 


EELISARIUS.  45 

its  defllned  prey ;  even  in  the  lame  manner  ambition 
weakens  to  its  early  Ichemcs,  and  plans  the  future  de- 
ftru^^ion  of  Ibme  I'plendid  virtue.  Alas  !  my  friend,  an 
attachment  to  felf,  which  is  indeed  a  natural  propenlity 
of  the  heart,  becomes  enormous  in  a  public  ciiara6fer, 
whenever  it  fixes  into  a  ruling  palTion.  I  have  known 
men  in  my  time,  who  would  not  hefitate  to  rilk  the 
lafetyofa  whole  army,  or  the  well-being  of  the  ftate, 
in  order  to  gratify  the  fclfilh  views  of  inordinate  ambi^ 
tion.  Stung  with  envy  at  the  fuccels  of  otiiers,  whom 
they  have  not  merit  to  emulate,  they  are  for  ever  alarm- 
ed with  the  apprehtnfion  of  loling  the  honour  of  Ibme 
brilliant  action  ;  and  were  they  not  retrained  by  fear, 
they  would  make  every  enterprize  mifcany  in  which 
they  have  not  tlie  command  j  e\en  the  public  good  is  a 
calamity  to  them,  unleis  afcribed  to  their  own  abilities. 
This  fet  of  men,  whether  in  the  cabinet  or  the  field,  is 
the  molt  pernicious  race.  The  man  of  true  honour  feels 
within  himlelf  the  beft  intimations  of  his  duty,  and  he 
]ooks  for  no  external  motive.  His  God  and  his  confci- 
ence  are  the  witnefl'es  of  his  actions,  and  to  them  only 
he  makes  his  appe?.l.  A  generous  opennefs  of  heart,  a 
calm  deliberate  courage,  and  a  prompt  zeal  for  the  pub- 
lic lervice,  are  at  once  conlfituents  of  true  greatnefs,  and 
the  beft  evidences  of  it.  Pride,  vanity,  and  envy,  are 
the  marks  of  a  little  and  a  narrow  fpirit.  It  is  not 
enough  that  you  make  no  preterfion  to  the  praiie  which 
you  have  not  m'eritedj  you  mull  even  pofiel's  the  noble 
i'elf-denial  that  can  renounce  the  fame  you  have  fairly 
earned.  It  uiuft  ever  be  lemembered,  that  the  fovereiga 
is  liable  to  err,  for  he  is  no  more  than  man :  and  the 
mind  ought  to  be  fore-armed  with  the  confideration,  that 
your  country,  and  the  age  you  live  in,  may  form  wrong 
judgments  of  you  ;  nay,  that  thofe  judgments  may  not 
be  revcrled  by  the  equity  of  after  times.  In  that  caie, 
you  mull  coniult  your  own  heart,  and  in  the  manly  felt- 
conference  inquire,  *'  Were  I  reduced  to  the  low  con- 
dition of  Belifarius,  v\  ould  my  innocence  i'upport  me  ? 
'V'^'ould  the  conicioufjtefi  cf  having;  difcbarged  miy  duty 

make 


+4  BELISARIUS. 

make  even  affllflion  fmile  ?"  If  you  feel  within  your* 
felt  any  indecifion  relpeiSllng  this  matter,  live  your  days 
in  obfcurity  :  you  have  not  the  materials  of  a  public 
chara(5tcr.' 

*  Alas!'  faid  Juftinlan,  with  a  deep  figh,  *  what 
you  expecl  is  above  the  powers  of  man  5  and  you  are 
yourlclf  a  terrible  example.' — '  My  example  may  at  firll 
appear  terrible,'  replied  Bel.farius  ;  '  biit  upon  a  clofer 
view,  that  impreiTion  will  wear  away.  Let  us  fuppofe, 
for  inllance,  that  the  chance  of  war,  a  fit  of  illnefs,  or 
a  decay  of  nature,  hid  deprived  me  of  my  fight ;  it  would 
then  have  been  among  the  common  accidents  of  life, 
with  notiiing  remarkable  or  pathetic  annexed  to  it.  Are 
not  the  vices  of  human  nature  among  the  incidents  of 
life  ?  Are  they  not,  in  the  ordinary  courfe  of  things,  as 
much  as  the  plague  that  laid  wafte  the  empire  ?  Does  it 
fignify  by  what  inftrument  we  fall  ?  The  wrath  of  a  fo- 
vercign,  the  arrow  of  an  enemy,  or  a  grain  of  land,  they 
Can  all  difpatch  us,  and  no  matter  which.  When  we 
enter  upon  the  ftr'ge  of  life,  we  mull  be  prepared  for  the 
changes  of  the  fcene.  You,  hr,  who  have  fent  forth 
your  Ibn  to  a  courie  of  military  toil  in  the  fervice  of  his 
country  ;  have  you  no  preientiment,  no  forecall  to  fug- 
geft  to  you  the  variety  of  perils  he  has  to  cope  with  ? 
Add  to  that  account  themichinations  of  envy,  thefnares 
of  treachery,  the  malice  of  dilfimulation,  and  dandeftine 
ftabs  of  calumny  J  and  if  your  fon  lives  to  my  age  with- 
out being  ruined  by  them,  you  will  allow  that  he  had 
peculiar  good  fortune.  Every  thing  in  this  life  has  its 
counterbalance.  You  fee  me  now  fuperannuated,  blind, 
and  indigent ;  the  tenant  of  an  old  caftle  in  ruins  :  but 
look  back  to  a  fpace  of  thirty  years,  adorned  with  hap- 
pincfs,  and  bright  with  viflory  and  triumphs  5  review 
that  period,  and  you  will  willi  your  fon  the  lot  of  Bell- 
farius.  Come,  my  worthy  neighbour,  we  muft  fum- 
mon  up  a  little  refolution  ;  you  feel  the  folicitude  of  a 
father  j  but  your  Ibn,  I  ftill  flatter  myfelf,  does  me  the 
honour  to  envy  me,  even  now.' — '  Moft  alTuredly  I  do,' 
exclaimed  Tiberius, — *  But  he  feels  a  virtuous  envy,' 

faid 


BELISARIUS.  45 
fald  the  emperor,  interrupting  him  j  *  and  the  objev^l  of 
it  is  not  the  levies  of  your  vicloiics,  but  that  unf]i;ik.ea 
coui-2ge  which  llands  at  bay  witii  fortune  to  the  lalt/— 
*  Courage  is  indilpenfible/  replied  Beiilarius  j  *  but  not 
merely  that  courage  which  can  look,  death  in  the  face  : 
that  is  the  bravery  of  the  common  ibldier.  The  courage 
of  a  general  is  an  elevation  of  mind  I'uperior  to  all  hu- 
man contingencies.  Who,  think,  you,  in  my  eftima- 
tion,  is  the  man  of  true  courage  ?  He  who,  at  the  ut- 
moft  hazard,  nay,  at  the  expence  of  his  glory,  continwes 
obftinate  in  the  difcharge  of  his  duty.  Such  was  Fa- 
bins,  that  Roman,  worthy,  wife,  temperate  and  firm  j 
who  could  hear  the  cenfures  of  mankind  for  his  delay, 
yet  hold  the  even  tenor  of  his  condu:^  free  from  the  irre- 
solution of  the  vain  inconfiftent  Pompcy,  who  ehofe  to 
hazard  the  fate  of  Rome  and  the  uiiiverle,  rather  thun 
groan  under  the  intolerable  pieafantry  of  a  joke.  I  will 
juft  mention  a  pallage  in  my  own  life.  In  one  of  m.y 
firfl:  campaigns  againif  the  Perfians,  the  radi  advice  of 
certain  turbulent  I'pirits  in  my  camp  prevailed  upon  me 
to  give  battle,  much  againft  my  own  inclination.  I  lolt 
the  day.  For  that  mifcondufl  I  fliall  ever  ftand  fe]f- 
condemned.  Who  lets  the  caprice  of  opinion  be  the  rule 
of  his  actions,  will  waver  in  uncertainty,  without  pre- 
cifion  or  dependence  on  himfelf.  Let  me  afk,  what 
would  be  the  confequence  if,  before  we  decide  with  our- 
felves  to  be  jutl  and  upright,  we  fliould  lelblve  to  wait 
for  a  difpadionate  age  of  the  world,  and  an  infallible 
prince  ?  We  muft  end  therefore  in  this  concluiion  :  keep 
right  onward  with  firmnels  and  intrepidity.  Perhaps, 
when  you  reach  the  goal,  ingratitude  and  calumny  will 
be  there  united  j  but  glory  will  ahb  be  there ;  and  if 
not,  virtue  may  difpenle  with  it :  (lie  will  never  fail  you. 
Even  in  the  vileft  ftatc  of  m-ifery  and  oppreflion,  flie  will 
be  a  faithful  follower j  and,  oh!  my  good  friend,  if 
you  but  knew  how  much  a  fingle  fmile  of  virtue  out- 
weighs all  the  fickle  careiTes  of  fortune ' 

'  Your  every  word  penetrates  my  Ibul,'  faid  Juftinian, 
ill  a,  tender  tone  of  voice,  and  much  embarraffed.     *  Hosfl? 

incftimably 


4-5  ■     EELISARIUS. 

inelVimably  happy  is  my  Ion  to  imbibe  thefe  fentlments 
at  this  period  ot  life  !  It  is  in  this  fchoolthat  Ibvereigns 
ought  to  ftudy  !' — '  Let  us  fay  nothing  of  fovereigns,* 
replied  Belifarius  ;  *  they  are  more  to  be  pitied  than  we 
are.' — '  Yes/  faid  Juftinian, '  fituated  as  they  ai-e,  with 
not  a  friend,  at  leift  without  any  of  ability  and  courage 
enough  to  guide  their  fteps,  their  cafe  is  lamentable  in- 
deed. My  fon  is  deftined  by  his  birth  to  live  in  courts  : 
it  may,  one  day,  be  his  lot,  in  the  councils  of  his  prince, 
or  perhaps  in  a  more  intimate  connexion,  to  avail  himfelf 
of  thefe  your  leftures  for  the  benefit  of  mankind.  Do  not 
difdain  to  open  and  enlarge  his  underftanding  j  proceed 
to  fill  his  young  conceptions  with  fublime  ideas  of  the 
true  art  of  governing ;  inliruil  him,  as  you  think  the 
friend  of  a  Ibvereign  ought  to  be.  Juftir.ianis  now  near 
his  grave ;  but  his  more  happy  fuccelfor  may  have  the 
pupil  of  Belifarius  for  his  friend.' — '  Alas!"  faid  the 
hero,  '  would  it  were  in  my  power  once  more,  before  I 
die,  to  be  of  fervice  to  my  country!  But  the  obfei-va- 
tions  my  experience  has  made  will  be  thought  the  reve- 
ries of  a  vifionary  old  man.  And  indeed  in  theory  fyf- 
tems  are  eafily  fettled  ;  difficulties  rife  and  difappear.— 
The  projeft or  is  mafter  of  his  combinations,  and  he  ar- 
ranges them  at  his  eafe.  He  adapts  every  thing  with 
faciliry  to  all  emergencies  and  the  wiflies  of  mankind  : 
he  fancies  himfelf  free  from  the  influence  of  pafiion,  an 
unerring  philofopher,  exempt  from  frailties,  always  en- 
lightened, moderate,  and  wife.  A  fvveet  illufion  this, 
and  not  likely  to  laft  long,  but  that  the  theorift  fcon  ex- 
tricates himleU  out  of  embarralTments,  and  has  the  reins 
of  government  in  his  own  hands.' — «  But  this  illufion 
has  its  ufe,'  faid  the  young  man  ;  '  for  even  the  chime- 
rical idea  of  the  bcft  poiTible  fyltem  may  be  the  model 
of  a  good,  though  impcnccl,  in'litution.' — '  I  wifh  it 
may,'  replied  Beiilarius  ;  *  but  I  am  not  fanguine 
enough  to  hope  it.  The  very  worft  arrangements  of 
civil  policy,  and  the' molt  de restive  forms  of  government, 
have  their  admirers  and  their  zealots.' — '  I  will  venture 
to  promife  on  my  part,'  laid  Jultinian,  '  that  your  fpe- 

culations 


BELISARIUS.  47 

dilations  will  not  be  thrown  away,  if  you  will  deign  to 
communicate  them  to  my  Ion."' — '  With  all  my  heart,' 
replied  the  hero  j  '  you  deferve  that  I  fliould  be  open 
and  ingenuous  with  you.  One  condition  I  have  to  exact, 
and  that  is  entire  lecrelV,  during  the  prelent  reign,  in 
regard  to  our  confidential  talk.' — '  And  why  that  cau- 
tion ?'  faid  Jultinian.  *  Becaufe  I  am  not  willing,'  re- 
plied Belilarius,  *  to  grieve  an  aged  emperor's  breaft, 
and  cloud  the  funiet  of  his  days  with  a  prolpecl  of  evils 
which  he  has  not  power  to  difpel.'' — Such  was  the  firft 
interview  betv.'een  them. 

On  his  way  back,  *  what  an  indelible  difgrace,'  faid 
Juftinian,  *  not  to  have  known  and  dillinguiflied  fuch 
a  man  !  It  is  thus,  my  beft  Tiberius,  it  is  in  this  man- 
ner we  are  deceived,  and  rendered  tyrants  againft  the  in- 
clination of  our  hearts.' 

The  emperor  was  haunted  all  night  by  the  image  of 
Belifarius.  The  next  day  he  faw  him  before  his  eyes 
in  every  apartment  of  the  palace.  In  the  evening,  about 
the  fame  hour,  he  fct  out  to  enjoy  the  melancholy  plea-? 
fure  of  a  fecond  meeting. 

CHAP.  VIII. 

BELISARIUS  was  walking  a  little  way  on  the  road 
with  his  guide.  At  fight  of  him,  Jultinian  alighted 
from  his  carriage,  and  familiarly  began — '  You  find  us 
deep  in  meditation,  reprefenting  to  ourfelves  the  injuftice 
of  the  fentence  which  wicked  men  extorted  from  an  aged 
emperor.  My  fon  and  I  were  engaged  in  a  ferious  train 
of  reflexions  upon  the  wretched  Itate  of  fovereigns,  and 
the  dangers  that  furround  them.  I  could  not  help  think- 
ing it  a  wonderful  event  in  the  hil^ory  of  human  aftairs, 
that  a  whole  people,  confifting  of  free-born  men  and  equal 
all  by  nature,  fhould  with  one  joint-affcnt  refign  their 
rights  into  the  hr.nds  of  a  fingle  perfon,  a  weak  individual, 
a  feeble  mortal  like  themlejves,  fubjetfl  to  tlic  lame  infir- 
mities, open  to  impolition,  liable  to  lelf-dclufion,  and 
prone  to  enors,  which  in  a  moment  may  prove  dtftruclive 
to  millions !' — '  And  do  yoii  im.agine,'  fays  Belifarius, 
*  that  in  a  f«nate,  or  an  aiieiDbiy  of  the  people,  there  is 

more 


4-i  EELISARIUS. 

more  fafcty,  greater  wiP'om,  or  a  Headier  admlnillratioil 
of  judice  ?  "Was  it  vintler  a  mon^irchy  that  Camillus,  The- 
mittocles,  and  Aiittiiies,  were  prolbribed  ?  To  multiply 
the  members  ci  government,  is  to  multiply  iis  vices,  for 
every  individual  mingles  his  own.  Themoftfimplt  form 
of  government  is  the  raoft  eligible  :  and  whether  fiates 
were  foundeii  upon  conqueit  or  original  compad,  whether 
mankind  agreed  to  transfer  theii-  natural  rights  to  the 
civil  magiltrate,  or  were  by  iupeiior  force  fubdued  into 
political  ibciety  ;  in  either  cale  it  was  realcnabie,  that  the 
moft  renowned  for  wifdom  or  for  valour  ftiould  attra6l 
the  popular  regard,  and  gain  the  general  fuffrage  in  his 
favour.  I  am  not  therefore  liirprifed  that  t!ie  magistrate 
or  the  hero  fliould  be  fekcfed  tor  the  government  of  the 
whole  5  but  that  a  fmgle  perlbn  could  be  found  willing  to 
accept  ib  painful  a  pre-eminence,  is  matter  of  altonifli- 
nient.' — *  1  his  part  of  the  argument,'  faid  Tiberius,  *  is 
not  fufficiently  clear  to  my  apprehcniion.' — *  To  iorm  a 
diftincc  idea,'  replied  Belifarius,  '  it  will  lielp  you  much, 
if  you  will  figme  to  your  fancy  the  firlt  formarion  of  a 
if  are,  and  place  vourfelf  alternately  in  the  different  charac- 
ters of  the  people  and  the  fovereign.' 

*  Where  is  the  riik,  the  people  may  be  fuppofed  to  fay, 
what  hazard  do  we  run  in  giving  fupremacy  to  a  king  ? 
With  the  good  of  the  whole  we  blend  his  happlnels  j  we 
make  them  but  one  thing ;  the  force  of  the  community 
becomes  the  ftrength  of  the  crown  j  upon  the  general 
weal  his  glory  is  grafted  ;  and  the  regal  charaifer  is  at 
once  derived  from  the  people,  and  fupported  by  them. 
The  general  love  of  his  fubjecls  will  be  his  true  lelf-iove, 
and  his  belf  intereft  will  be  found  in  juliice,  moderation, 
and  beneficence.  This  mult  ]i:.ve  been  tlie  political  creed 
of  mankind.' — '  But  they  did  not  take  into  their  account," 
faid  Juitinian,  *  the  paflions  and  the  complication  of  mo- 
tives that  encompals  a  piince.' — '  Very  true,'  replied 
Btli'hrius  ;  *  they  only  tliought  of  an  infcparable  u.iion 
of  inteiefts,  between  the  fovereign  and  his  people;  that 
there  ever  could  be  a  feparation  of  thofc inteiefts,  and  that 
the  two  paits  oi'  the  body-politic  fliould  live  in  a  Itate  of 

mutual 


fcELISARlUS.  45 

mutual  hoftility,  did  not  enter  into  their  idea.  iTuupation 
appeared  to  them  a  kind  ot  fuicide,  that  could  only  pro- 
ceed iVcm  a  total  privation  of  reafon  :  an.d  fhould  tliv? 
prince  be  Teized  with  lb  extravagant  a  henzy,  they  relied 
upon  the  wildom  of  the  leglflature  to  control  the  palTions 
of  a  man  grown  an  enemy  to  hinil^lt.  Tliey  forfaw  m- 
decd  that  many  might  nnd  their  interefl  in  mifchief  and 
evil  deeds ;  but  thiy  perfuaded  themlelves,  that  fuch  a 
confedeiacy  in  vice  would  be  a  I'maii  minority,  againll 
^^'hich  a  great  fuperiority  of  gocd  and  honeft  men,  with 
the  prince  at  tlieir  head,  would  always  preponderate. 
And  indeed,  till  fatal  experience  opened  the  eyes  of  men, 
who  could  forefee  that  kings  vvculd  ever  fink  to  fuch  a 
degree  of  infatuation,  as  to  divorce  themfelves  from  their 
people,  and  combine  with  the  avowed  enemies  of  all  the 
rights  of  man  ?  A  conduct  like  this  is  fuch  an  outrage  to 
nature  and  to  leafon,  that  it  _was  nectlTary  it  fhould  ac- 
tually happen,  before  the  poinbility  of  it  could  be  believed. 
It  was  not  in  the  limplici'.yof  ancient  manners  to  expe6l 
lo  (hocking  a  revolution. 

*  To  confider,  on  the  other  hand,  the  feelings  of  fove- 
J-elgns  in  that  early  period  of  mankind,  he  on  whom  the 
fupreme  authority  devolved,  muft  be  deemed  the  party 
that  had  molt  leafon  to  be  alarmed.  For,  if  the  father 
of  a  family,  who  has  a  charge  of  five  or  fix  children  to 
educate,  and  to  tflablifh  in  tiie  world,  feels  an  inceflant 
anxiety  that  plants  thorns  upon  his  pillow,  what  muft 
be  the  cife  with  the  chief  of  a  family  which  is  counted  by 
millions  ? 

*  He  muft  have  reafoned  with  hlmfelf  in  this  manner  : 
**  The  compaft  which  I  make  with  my  people,  binds  me  to 
live  for  their  good  orly:  therepofe  of  my  life  muft  be  de- 
voted to  their  happinefs.  I  engage  myfclf  by  a  folemri 
cath  to  regard  the  gc-cd  of  the  community  in  every  legif- 
lative  acl,"and  to  fubmit  my  own  will  to  thefpirit  of  the 
liws.  In  prrpcrtion  to  the  power  committed  to  me,  my 
natural  liberty  is  abridged.  The  inore  my  liibjecls  con- 
Jidc  in  me,  the  ftronger  are  the  obligations  I  am  under, 
for  th^-  fraikies  ofiry  nature,  iny  errors,  and  my  fwif- 


50  EELISARIUS. 

fions,  I  render  myfelf  accountable  j  I  give  my  people  a 
kind  of  jurifdi6\ion  over  mc ;  and,  in  fhort,  by  conienting 
to  reign,  I  abdicate  myiclf."  *  The  private  man  is,  as  it 
were,  annihilated,  to  make  room  for  royalty  to  engrols 
the  foul.  Can  there  he  a  more  generous  facrifice?  an  en- 
gagement of  fo  folemn  a  nature?  And  yet  tiiefe  were  the 
fentiments  of  Antoninus,  and  Marcus  Aurcllus — "  Iha-je 
iiot-ki'/ig  properly  my  cu.v;,'"  faid  one  of  them  j  "  My  ^oiry 
palace  is  not  tniney^  was  the  declaration  of  the  other.  The 
tew  of  their  llamp  thought  the  fame. 

'  In  the  appendages  of  fovereignty,  vulgar  error  makes 
only  fome  external  circumftances  of  parade,  which  lerve 
to  awaken  envy,  fuch  as  palaces,  the  fplendour  of  a  court, 
the  homage  that  is  p.iid,  together  with  the  pomp  and 
m?.gnificence  which  policy  attached  to  the  regal  ftate,  in 
order  to  give  it  fancfion  and  authority.  And  yet,  amidft 
all  this  brilliancy,  the  fovereign  is  no  more  than  mere 
man,  overwhelmed  with  fplendid  cares,  diftra61ed  with 
anxieties  5  a  felf-confuming  votarill  for  the  public  good, 
and  a  victim  to  his  duty,  if  he  be  zealous  to  perform  it  j 
an  objecl  of  fcorn  if  he  neglecl   it,  and  of  deteftation 
fliould  he  betray  it.  Under  perpetual  reftraint,  and  flu6f  u-s- 
ating  for  ever  betwixt  good   and  evil,  he  finds  himfelf 
environed  with  enemies  to  his  quiet,  with  paintul  vigils, 
devouring  cares,  a  tedious  apathy,  that  make  him  weary 
of  himfelf,  and  ends  in  a  diltafte  to  every  thing.    Behold 
there  the  portrait  of  a  king !    It  is  true,  invention  has 
exhaufted  iticlf  to  make  his  enjoyments  counterbalance 
his  cares  j  but  his  cires  are  numberlefs,  and  his  pleafurei 
are  confined  within  the  i'canty  circle  of  his  wants.    The 
highc-it  luxury  is  not  ingenious  enough  to  gi'.e  him  one 
new  organ  of  ienfation  ;  and  while  pleafures  Ibliclt  him  on 
every  fide,  nature,  quite  haraficd  down,  forbids  enjoyn)ent, 
and  the  palled   appetite   refufes  all.    Thus  every  thing 
a)>out  him  is  fupeiflui^y  5   his   extenfive  palace  is  but  :» 
void  immenfe,  of  which  he  occupies  a  little  corner  j  under 
crimlbn  curtains  and  gilded  ceilings  he  feeks  in  vain  thnt 
Avcct  repofe  which  dwells  in  the  pcTiianfs  cottnge  j    i.nd 

lit 


SeLisarius.  5f 

at  his  table,  the  plealure  ot  the  monarch  ends  when  ap- 
pctite  craves  no  more.' 

*  I  perceive/  faid  Tiberius,  <  that  every  thing  can^ 
not  be  enjoyed,  where  every  thing  abounds;  but  is  the 
pleafure  of  choofing  nothing  in  the  account  ?' 

*  Alas,  young  man '.'exclaimed  Bciiiarius,  '  my  worthy 
young  man  !  yon  are  not  acq\iainted  with  that  incurable 
dileafe,  laticty.  It  is  the  moft  fatal  langourof  the  mind. 
Are  you  acquainted  with  ihe  caufe  of  it  ?  The  power 
of  enjoying  with  facility  makes  us  lifelels,  and  di!"gufted 
at  every  thing.  Either  our  defires  have  not  time  to  revive, 
or  they  revive  only  to  loath  the  affluence  that  invites  too 
foon.  Art  has  wearied  itfelf  in  ftudying  delicacies  to  pro- 
voke and  quicken  the  languid  appetite  j  but  the  powers 
of-  perception  arv;  decayed,  the  inlets  of  pleafure  are  ob- 
ftrufted,  the  incentives  to  a6licn  are  extinguifhed  in  the 
foul,  and  delight  itlelt  has  loft  both  its  allurements  and 
its  gratifications.  Woe  to  the  man  who  can  command 
every  thing  with  a  vvifli  1  for  as,  on  the  one  hand,  the 
predominant  idea  of  a  total  privation  laps  all  the  vigour 
cf  the  mind,  by  fixing  a  train  of  corroding  reflections; 
iOi  on  the  other,  a  conftant  habit  of  enjoyment  gives  in- 
fipidity  to  vi'hat  were  othervvife  exquifite,  and  thus  life 
ioles  its  relifii.' 

*  You  will  grant  me,  however,'  interpofed  Tiberius, 
*  that  there  are  refined  and  fenfible  delights,  in  their  na- 
ture proper  for  the  gratification  of  a  monarch,  which  are 
always  fure  to  give  rational  enjovment  without  the  danger 
ofdifguillng  by  repetition.' — *  As  for  inftance?'  fays 
Belifarius. — 'The  love  of  glory,  for  inftance,'  replied 
the  young  man. — '  But  what  iort  of  glory  ?' — '  Why  of  all 
the  various  clafies  of  glory,  renown  in  arms  muft  hold 
the  foremoft  place.' — '  Ver^^well  j  that  is  your  pofition  : 
and  do  you  think  the  pleafure  that  fprings  from  conqucft 
has  a  fincere  and  lafting  charm  in  it  ?  Alas  !  when  millions 
are  ftretched  in  mangle i  heaps  upon  the  field  of  battle, 
can  the  mind  in  thatfituation  tafte  of  joy  ?  I  can  make  al- 
lowance for  thofe  who  have  met  danger  in  all  its  fhapes  ; 
they  may  be  permitted  to  congratulate  .themfeives,  that 

E  z  they 


5*  BELISARIUS. 

they  have  efcaped  with  their  Hvcs  j  but  In  the  cafe  of  a 
king  bcni  with  lenfibility  of  heait,  the  day  that  Ipllis  a 
dekige  of  human  blood,  and  bids  the  tears  of  a  natural 
affc61ion  flow  in  rivers  round  the  land,  that  cannot  be  a 
day  of  true  enjoynicnt.  I  have  more  than  once  traverfed 
over  a  field  cf  battle;  I  v/ould  have  been  glad  to  hive 
fcen  a  Xero  in  my  place;  tlie  tears  of  hum:'.ni:y  miUlf  have 
turft  from  him.  I  know  there  are  princes  who  take  the 
pleafure  of  a  campaign,  as  they  do  that  cf  hunting,  and 
who  fend  forth  their  people  to  the  fray,  as  they  let  flip 
their  dogs ;  but  the  rage  of  conquefl:  is  like  the  unrelent- 
ing temper  of  avarice,  which  torments  itfelf,  and  is  to 
the  lart  infatiable.  A  province  has  been  invaded  ;  it  has 
been  fubdued  ;  it  lies  contiguous  to  another  not  yet  at- 
tempted :  defue  begins  to  kindle;  invafion  happens  after 
invafionj  am.biticn  irritates  itfeif  to  new  prcjc^fs,  till  at 
length  comes  a  reverie  of  fortune,  which  exceeds,  in  the 
mjitificarion  it  brings,,  all  the  pride  and  joy  of  former 
vi6fories.  But  to  give  things  every  flattering  appearance, 
let  us  liippofe  a  train  of  uninterrupted  luccefs  :  yrt,  eve» 
in  tliat  cale,  the  conqueror  pufiies  forward,  like  another 
Alexander,  to  the  limits  of  the  VN-crld,  and  then,  li!:ehim, 
re-meallirts  back  his  ccurfe,  fatigued  with,  triumphs,  a 
buithen  to  himfclf  and  mankind,  at  a  lo("s  what  to  do- 
witli  the  immenfe  trafts  which  he  has  depopulated,  and 
meianclioly  with  the  icfieftion  that  an  acre  of  his  con- 
quelfs  would  fuffice  to  m.aintain  hira,  and  a  little  pit-hole 
to  hide  his  remains  from  the  world.  In  my  youth  I  favsr 
the  fepulchre  of  Cynis ;  a  (lone  bore  this  inicription  : 
^^  I  am  CjruSfke  -j/ho  fuhJueJike  Ptrfian  empire.  Frier. Jy 
nchoe^jer  thoic  arty  or  -^vhire-ver  thy  no.tt-ve  couyitry^  envy 
7ne  not  ike  fcanty  fpace  that  co-vers  ?ny  daj-cold  ajlti* ."* 
Alas!  laid  I,  turning  afide  from  the  mournful  epitsph, 
is  it  worth  while  to  be  a  conqueror!'" 

Tiberius   interrupted  him  with  aflonifhment ;  '  Can 

thei'e  be  the  fcntiments  of  Belifarius  ?' — '   Yes,  young 

man,  thus  thinks  Bclilarius  :  he  is  able  to  decide  upon 

Jhis  fubjec^.    .Of  all  the  plagues  which  the  pride  of  maa 

't  Vide  Plutarch's  life  or"  Alexandvr. 


BELISARIUS.  53 

has  engendered,  the  rage  of  conquefl:  is  the  moft  dcfti  uc- 
tive.' — '  I  mult  give  up  the  point,'  fays  Tiberius,  '  but 
Itill  there  is  a  prerogative  oi  enjoyir.ent,  a  giatiHcation 
worthy  of  kings,  r.nd  that  is  the  luprcme  delight  of  ier- 
ving  mankind,  a  pleaiure  Ipringing  from  the  happinefs 
of  millions.' — '  Ay  ! '  replied  Beliiarius,  *  if  a  king  couJd 
be  fure  of  making  a  nation  happy,  his  acccflicn  were  an 
objeft  of  envy  ;  alcending  his  throne  he  would  riJe  to  the 
great  pre-eminence  of  difpenlixTg  public  good,  and  guid- 
ing the  reins  of  government  for  the  welfare  of  marikind. 
This  would  be  a  lacred  privilege '.  that  a  generous  mind 
fliould  facrifice  the  repofe  of  lite  to  this  gieat  anibition 
would  not  be  a  matter  of  allonifhiment.  But  ad(h-efs 
yourfelf  to  the  auguft  old  man  who  now  reigns  over  you, 
and  dcfire  to  be  informed  by  him,  whether  to  difcharge 
the  duties  of  his  ftation  is  an  eafy  tafk  ?' — '  That  a  prince 
has  done  his  utmoft,'  replied  JulHnian,  *  to  promote  the 
welfare  of  his  fubje6fs,  to  make  their  burthen  light,  and 
to  deferve  the  love  of  his  people,  a  nation  may  fometimes 
be  willing  to  believe.' 

*  Th&y  may  believe  it,'  faid  Bclifarius,  '  and  fome 
princes,  even  during  their  lives,  have  obtained  that  glo- 
rious fufFrage.  It  has  been  the  recompenfe  of  their  upright 
government ;  their  fweeteft  retribution.  But  without  fome 
lingular  event  to  give  fmcerity  to  public  tellimoniajs,  un- 
lefs  fome  great  and  trying  conjuncture  happen,  when  the 
itntimerts  of  the  people  may  be  fuppofed  to  burlt  forth 
in  the  hcneft  efFuiion  of  their  hearts,  what  prince  can  flat- 
ter himielf  that  the  addreflcs  he  receives  are  nut  fu- 
bornedr  How  can  l:e  perluade  himfclf  that  he  hears  the 
real  lenfe  of  the  nation  ?  His  courtiers  vouch  for  itj  but 
who  is  refponfible  for  them  ?  While  the  fong  of  revelry 
echoes  through  the  palace^  how  fhall  he  be  afTured  that: 
in  the  remoter  parts  of  his  dominions  the  dome  of  the 
viceroy  is  net  tilled  with  the  complaints  of  injured  men, 
and  the  cottage  of  the  labourer  with  groans  of  mifery  ? 
The  public  feilivals  are  nothing  but  i'cenes  aRed  before 
him,  and  the  applaufc  he  meets  is  too  often  preconcerted. 
He  Ices  ths  vilelb  of  mortals  canonized  for  deities  ;  and 
E  3  though 


54  fJELISARIUS. 

though  the  vain  tyrant,  whoie  days  are  fpent  in  on* con-, 
tinned  round  of  voluptuoulhels,  may  imbibe  the  inccme 
which  adulation  offers,  yet  the  man  of  virtue,  w(^.o  made 
his  reign  a  painful  tndeavour  to  do  all  'he  good  that  de- 
pended on  him,  clolcs  an  honourable  life  in  anguilh,  and 
deJcends  to  the  tcmb  of  his  anceftors  withcut  ever  being 
liire  that  he  had  one  Hncere  friend.  V/hen  I  iefle<5f  that 
Jullinian  is  in  this  fituation,  and  that  he  is  likely  to 
carry  with  him  to  his  grave  a  perfuafion  ihat  Beliiarius 
was  a  traitor,  and  never  loved  liim,  I  own  mylelf  fordy 
grieved  :  it  is  altab  to  my  veiy  heart.' 

*  No!'  exclaimed  the  emperor  with  impetuofity,  (and 
then  recollecting  himlelf  fuddenly)  '  No,'  faid  he,  in  a 
more  deliberate  accent,  *  a  pruice  is  not  alvi'ays  unhappy 
to  I'uch  a  degree, as  not  to  know  that  in  the  courfe  of  h.s 
reign  he  has  been  truly  lovcd.' 

*  Be  it  lb,'  replied  Beliiarius  ;  *  he  knows  that  he  is 
lovedj  and  yet  even  tiiis  fvveet  reflexion  is  daihed  with 
bjtternels.  Certain  it  is,  the  good  of  his  people  muft  1  c 
dear  to  him,  in  proportion  as  he  thinks  himl'eJf  liLaj-  la 
them  ;  and  in  conlequeixe,  whatever  good  he  does,  or 
whatever  evil  he  wards  off  from  them,  the  account  ap- 
pears to  him  in  the  general  maisof  good  and  evil,  lb  ina- 
dequate to  his  wiHies,  and  at  length,  in  the  evening  of  a 
long  and  llorniy  life,  he  ferioufly  puts  the  queltion, ''  Jl  hat 
goOi.i  bwoe  I  doneV  ■  Struggling  with  adverfities,  and 
yet  unible  to  fubdue  them,  what  mull  be  his  regret  when 
he  fits  down  conlcious  of  his  feeble  efforts,  and  lees  him- 
fcif  a  flave  to  the  emergencies  of  the  day,  obliged  to 
govern  by  expedients  only  ?  Alarcus  Aurelius  is  the 
pjince  upon  record  who  bell  dei'erved  to  fee  the  world 
happy  under  his  adminillration,  and  yet  wh.at  a  reignwr-s 
his  f  A  fcene  of  wild  commotion,  in  which  all  the  accu- 
mulated ills  of  life  feemcd  to  crowd  themldves  togethej. 
One  would  have  thought  it  an  infurie6lion  of  all  naturia 
a  general  confpira  cy  to  baffle  eveiy  effort  of  w;fdom  ar;d 
■of  virtue.  It  is  a  nielanchcly  talk,  that  lie  who  raiiird  a 
teinple  to  Beneficence^  was  doonicd  to  lee  the  black-It 
f^r:gdofdiUrels  and  mifcry.  B'-it  not  to  go  fo ix;r  back  u«r 


EELISARIUS.  55 

examples  ;  was  ever  a  reign  more  diftlnguKhed  for  ac- 
tivity, tor  vigour,  and  apparent  luccel's,  than  this  of  Juf- 
tinian  ?  A  feries  of  war  and  victory  in  thicc  quarters  of 
the  world  for  tiiirty  years  together  j  the  lofies  of  a  cen- 
tury repaired  in  one  reign  ;  the  people  of  the  North  and 
of  the  Welt  exterminated  beyond  the  Danube  and  th$ 
Alps  ;  tranquillity  elLablifned  through  ail  the  provinces  of 
Atiaj  icings  overthrown,  and  led  in  triumph  j  the  defo- 
lation  of  a  plague,  the  wafte  of  invaiions  j  and  the  ruin  of 
earthquakes  ettaced  ahnolt  from  the  memory  of  man  by 
the  reitoring  hand  of  unwearied  virtue  ;  places  of  defence 
and  temples  without  number,  the  former  built  from  the 
ground,  and  the  latter  decorated  with  every  fplendid  orna- 
ment !  Thefe  v.-ere  the  works  of  Jultlnian's  reign  j  im- 
perial works  I  how  glorious  !  how  magnificent !  And  yet 
what  a  falling  off!  Behold  him  now  in  the  decline  of  old 
age  j  what  has  he  done  ?  That  victorious  arm  was  never 
able  to  fix  the  empire  upon  a  durable  foundation  ;  at  this 
very  inllant  it  totters  to  its  ruin  ;  that  is  at  laft  the  clofc 
of  all  his  labours,the  fruit  of  fo  many  triumphs. — Let  this, 
Tiberius,  be  a  lelTon  to  you  ;  let  it  inftrucf  you  to  view 
with  pity  the  fplendid  mifery  of  kings,  to  rejudge  their 
aclions  with  lenity,  and,  in  particular,  to  conceive  no  dif- 
afFeclion  to  a  venerable  fovereign ,  on  account  of  the  ills 
which  he  has  let  fall,  or  the  good  which  he  has  omitted 
to  do.' 

«  You  alarm  me,'  faid  Tiberius,  <  with  thefe  reflec- 
tions ;  my  firft  advice  to  any  friend  of  mine  upon  a  throne 
ihail  be  to  abdicate  it.' — *  To  abdicate  it ''  replied  Beli- 
farius  j  *  that  ycu  will  r.ot  do  j  courage  will  never  be  the 
ndvifer  of  deiertion.  Were  you  ever  induced  by  peril 
and  fatigue  to  abandon  the  fword  ?  there  is  no  difference 
in  this  view  of  things,  between  a  fword  and  a  fceptre. 
It  is  incumbent  upon  every  man  to  crowd  into  his  life 
all  the  duties  he  can.  Endeavour  not  to  conceal  from 
your  friend  that  he  ir.uft  inevita\)ly  be  a  vi6tim  to  thofe 
jibout  him  3  but  make  him  fenlible,  at  the  fame  time,  that 
there  is  a  plea.ursjas  well  as  pain  in  being  thus  facnficcd, 
a;jd  that,  ip  oiJer  to  iufur;?  his  true  rscompenfe,  h'  mull 

xiifiAme 


56  BELISARIU3. 

iniinme  his  imagination  with  the  enthunafm  of  public 
virtue,  and  mult  thence  deduce  the  Iweet  reward  of  all 
his  generous  labours. '-^r-'  And  where  is  this  re>'.  ard  to 
be  met  with  ?'  interpofed  Tiberius. -r-*  It  confifts,'  re= 
turned  Belilarius,  *  in  cur  own  inward  conlcicurnefs ;  it  is 
purely  kntimental,  and  Iprir.gs  cut  of  the  rtfleftion  that 
we  find  within  our  breafts,  the  R(5^ive  principles  of  hu^ 
rnanity,  focial  atte<51ion,  generous  i'ynipathy,  thofe  ami- 
able qualities  wliich  conftitute  the  dignity  of  our  nature^ 
and  merit  the  approbation  of  earth  and  heaver.  Can  you 
imagine  that  a  king  has  luch  contra8ed  views  as  to  rifg 
in  a  m.orning  to  balance  the  account  of  what  he  may 
merit  in  the  courfe  of  the  day  ?  His  language  to  himfelf, 
I  take  it,  muH  be,  awake  !  arife  1  and  with  you  let  ji;(lics 
and  benevolence  open  their  eyes  on  the  world.  Piveft 
yourfelfoF  little  felf  Hi  padions,  of  your  fchcmes  of  pri^ 
vate  gratification,  and  reiign  even  the  repofe  of  your  life. 
You  do  not  live  for  youri'elf  alone  ;  the  Ibul  of  a  whole 
people  ftirs  within  you  ;  your  will  is  the  will  of  millions, 
and  properly  promulgated,  receives  the  fan<5>ion  of  law. 
Let  the  law  tl-ien  be  the  rule  of  jour  goven.mcnt,  and 
reir.eiTiber  that  on  the  h^ppinefs  of  numbers  your  own 
intereft  is  grafted.  You  are  moved,  Tiberius  I  your  hand 
trembles  in  mine  !  let  me  bid  you  relt  afinred,  that  thf 
vtiy  tears  of  virtue  have  inexprelTible  delight.  Virtue,  it 
is  triie,  cannot  ascertain  a  conrtant  good  unmixed  with 
evil;  but  is  there  fucha  thing  in  human  life?  And  if  there 
is,  for  whom  is  it  referved  ?  For  theinaftive,  the  wicked, 
and  unworthy?  The  mil(:hief  which  a  patriot  prince  can- 
not remove,  draws  tears  from  his  humanity,  but  they 
are  not  the  bitter  tears  of  envy,  reiriorfe,  and  turpitude. 
They  are  the  pleafmg  ibrrows  of  Titus,  who  weeps  chat 
he  has  loft  a  day  :  they  are  pure  as  the  fource  from  which 
they  fpring.  Ycu  n^.ay  therefore  aver  to  your  friend, 
and  pray  aver  it  with  energy,  as  if  feme  god  werebrcath-* 
jng  thiough  you,  that  am;ed  with  virtue  he  will  never 
know  the  pang  of  envying  the  fortunes  of  the  vile  anci 
wicked.  But  this  conftancy  of  mind,  this  true  fupport  of 
virtue,    is  not  the  Jbontaneous  growth  of  the   humai^ 

bicall'j 


EELISARJU5.  57 

breaft ;  the  fpirlt  of  a  young  piince  mufl:  be  attempered  to 
it  i  and  how  he  is  to  be  initiated,  we  will  make  the  lub- 
je(5l  of  to-morrow's  interview/ 

*  He  moulds  me  to  his  wiIl,MaId  Tiberius  to  Juftinian; 

•  his  power  over  my  foul  is  irrefiftible  j  he  finks,  intlames, 
and  elevates  at  his  own  diibretion.'' — *  He  tears  my 
Very  heart,'  replied  the  emperor  5  then  fetched  a  deep 
ligh,  and  remained  a  confiJerable  time  in  penfive  filtnce. 
TodilJDel  the  gloom  the  court  tried  all  its  gaieties,  but 
e\'ery  endeavour  was  fruitlefs  importunity.  On  the  mor- 
row, having  fignified  his  inclination  to  take  a  ioiitary 
walk,  he  ftruck  into  a  neighbouring  wood  j  Tiberius 
was  there  in  waiting,  and  together  they  went  to  their  ap- 
pointment. The  young  man  did  not  fail  to  revive  the  to- 
pic v.'hich  had  been  promifed,  and  Belifarius  proceeded  ifi 
the  following  manner. 

CHAP.  IX. 

*  TT  has  been  made  a  quert ion,  whether  It  be  poffible  to 
A  love  virtue  for  its  own   fake  only  ?   So  gtnerous  a 

principle,  it  rauft  be  acknowledged,  is  the  (ublime  in- 
llinct  of  certain  chofen  fpirits.  I  call  it  an  inftinft  ;  for 
whenever  it  is  the  work  of  refieflion,  it  degenerates  into 
intereft  5  nor  can  this  propofition  be  underilood  to  dero- 
gate from  human  nature.  I  will  fliew  you,  that  virtue, 
like  friendfhip,  refines  itfelf  by  degrees  from  the  drois  of 
intereft,  and  takes  a  more  exalted  nature ;  the  operations 
of  one  will  illuftrate  the  other. 

It  is  to  views  of  convenience,  of  pleafure,  and  utility, 
that  frientifhip  owes  its  origin.  The  eife6^  in  the  procefs 
is  detached  from  the  caufe ;  the  motives  fuofKle,  and  the 
fentiment  produced  keeps  poflcinon  of  the  heart  j  a  fecret 
charm  infinuates  itfelf,  and  by  the  force  of  habit  mingles 
with  our  very  love  of  exiftence.  In  this  ftate  ofthc^mmd, 
imeai'y  fenfations  may  take  place  inftead  of  promifed  joys ; 
but  ftill,  the  heart  which  has  tafted  of  friendfliip  will, 
rather  than  renounce  it,  forego  ail  the  foothing  comforts 
it  expecled  to  enjoy.  Friendfhip  is  a  fympathy  which 
commences  in  gaiety  and  exultation,  and  gathers  Ibength 


5$  BELISARIUS. 

in  the  hour  of  affll6llon.  The  lame  may  be  affirmed  of 
virtue.  To  engage  ycur  affe6\ions,  it  mult  firft  attract  by 
an  appearance  ct  tlie  agreeable  or  the  ufeful ;  fcr  before 
we  are  enamoured  of  her,  we  love  ourfelves  ;  and  till  we 
know  of  the  real  fweecs  of  virtue,  we  look  for  gratifica- 
tions very  different  from  what  flie  affords.  When  Re- 
gulus,  in  the  fpring  of  life,  beheld  her  for  the  firft  time, 
flie  ftruck  him  with  the  pomp  of  triumph  and  iplendour 
of  glory.  Whether  he  abandoned  her  afterwards,  when 
Ihc  had  nothing  to  give  but  fetters,  the  torture,  and  th^ 
funeral  pile,  need  not  now  be  mentioned. 

*  You  muft  therefore  begin  by  founding  the  temper  of 
the  prince,  and  difcovej ing  the  objects  that  chiefly  Ihike 
his  fancy.  To  be  free,  powerful,  rich,  obeyed  by  his  fub- 
jecls,  erteemed  through  life,  and  happy  in  theprolpe6l  of 
future  fame,  will  perhaps  be  the  prevailing  defires.  In- 
form him,  therefore,  that  from  virtue  alone  he  Ciin obtain 
v/hat  he  pants  for,  and  you  will  not  miflead  him. 

*  There  is  a  lecret  in  the  art  of  governing,  too  often  con- 
cealing from  the  pride  ct  kings,  in  which  every  well  dif. 
pofed  prince  ought  to  be  early  inftrufted,  and  that  is 
contained  in  this  fober  truth  :  there  is  no  abfolute  power 
except  that  of  the  laws,  and  he  who  aims  at  defpotifm 
enflaves  himfelf.  For  what  is  law  but  the  will  of  the; 
whole  community,  exprefied  by  one  man,  in  the  fame 
manner  as  his  power  is  the  whole  force  of  the  ftate  coU 
le6\ed  in  himi'elf  ?  But  when  the  will  of  man  is  erected  in 
oppofition  to  the  whole,  the  force  ot  the  body-politic  will 
then  be  fet  againfi:  the  prince,  who  relorts  to  the  practice 
of  dividing,  weakening,  and  fubverting  the  ftrength  of 
the  kingdom  ;  or,  perhaps,  at  length  he  is  in  open  arms 
agalnlt  it.  Inftead  of  being  the  father  of  his  people,  he  is 
now  their  tyrant :  he  governs  by  intrigue,  and  ftrives  by 
little  arts  of  policy  to  delude,  furprife,  alarm,  and  teirify 
his  fubjefts  into  a  tame  fubmiflion  ;  or  elfe  he  reforts  to 
his  agents  of  defti-u6lion,  vi'ho  fell  the  blood  of  thei^ 
countrymen,  and  march  fword  in  hand  through  the  realm, 
covering  all  with  defolation,  till  murder  has  taken  oft' 
every  honeft  man  who  dared  to  refill  the  yoke  and  vindi-» 

cate 


EELISARIL'S.  59 

catc  tlie  rights  of  nature.  Hence  the  rage  of  civil  com- 
niotions,  in  which  a  brother  lavs  to  his  brother,  die,  or 
yield  to  the  tyrant,  who  has  paid  me  for  cutting  your 
throat.  Proud  of  an  uiurpation  maintained  by  force  of 
:;.rms,  or  founded  on  fupcrftition,  the  tyrant  congratu- 
lates himfelf:  but  let  his  heart  tremble  within  him,  if  he 
evcr  ceafe  to  pamper  the  pride,  or  control  the  licentiouf- 
nefs,  of  his  dctefted  party.  While  they  ferve  him,  they 
chain  him  to  themielves  by  his  fears  ^  and  for  the  obedi- 
er.ce  tliey  pay  their  captive  king,  they  demand  in  return 
impunity  tor  their  crimes.  Being  thus  grown  the  oppref- 
for  of  one  part  of  his  fubjects,  he  is  a  flave  to  the  other  j 
as  mean  and  abjeft  to  the  bad,  as  fierce  and  domineering 
to  tne  good.  Conlf rained  to  manage  with  his  accomplices, 
he  is  obliged  to  Itudy  hov/  to  gratify  tiiem,  that  the  pal- 
fions  which  liifed  on  his  fide  may  not  revolt  from  him  j 
for  he  knows  their  fierce  and  dangerous  quality,  fmce 
they  have  already  marked  their  way  wi:h  ruin,  and  broke 
afundcr  all  the  ties  of  nature  and  humanity.  The  tiger, 
trained  to  the  chafe,  and  educated  by  man  to  the  fkill  of 
devouring,  will  fly  at  his  mailer,  if  a  fliare  of  the  pity 
be  with-b.eld  from  him.  The  tyrant's  compa6l  with  his 
factors  of  mifchief  is  precifely  the  fame. 

*  Thefupreme  power,  therefore,  as  it  approaches  toty- 
rinny,  becomes  feeble  in  proportion,  and  depends  for  fup- 
port  upon  the  men  who  have  leagued  themlelves  againlt 
iht  conltitution.  It  mull  be  ever  attentive  to  the  tools 
of  a  party,  lert  they  Ihouid  make  a  dei'eflion  to  the  In- 
terelh  of  their  country.  Every  mark  of  compliance, 
refpeft,  and  the  molt  fervile  toleration,  m.uft  be  paid  to 
them,  to  the  utter  fubverfion  of  juftice,  and  the  neglect 
of  all  found  policy.  The  prince  mult  defcend  to  the 
meanelf  deferences,  the  molt  flagrant  partiality,  the 
humblcft  difTimAilation,  and  even  lb  low  'as  to  wear  the 
fmilcs  of  content,  with  relentment  at  his  heart. 

*  The  prince  that  would  govern  according  to  the 
true  fpirit  of  civil  policy,  muit  m.ake  the  laws  the 
fole  rule  of  his  conduct  :  for  his  authority  is  inferiur 
to   the   laws,   founded    upon   the  will   and   the   whole 

fores 


8«5  EELISARIUS. 

Force  of  the  community.  He  wiJ],  in  that  cafe,  know 
lio  enemies  but  the  bale  and  wicked,  the  common  ene- 
mies of  Ibciety,  Whoever  intcrerts  himfelf  in  the  fup- 
port  of  order  and  the  public  tranquiiUty,  is  an  rLlTertor  of 
the  fovereign  authority  %vhich  protects  him.  Every  ci- 
tizen, in  the  declared  foe  of  his  prince,  beholds  his  own 
peribnal  enemy.  Party-divilion  is  banillitd  from  the 
Itate,  and  the  Sovereign,  in  league  with  his  people,  isien- 
dered  rich  and  powerful  by  the  wealth  and  power  of  his 
people.  Under  no  neceflity  to  intrigue  witii  parties,  he 
reigns  in  freedom)  perhaps  in  ju(Hce,  with  his  crown 
fiiTTi  and  unfhaken  on  his  head.  His  admir.ift ration, 
fixed  upon  the  bafis  of  law  and  public  fecurity  at 
home,  becomes  refpeftable  to  foreign  powers  j  and,  as 
he  is  never  inftigated  by  caprice  and  pride  to  wage  a  war 
of  ambition,  his  armies,  maintained  and  regulated  under 
proper  diicipline,  are  ready  to  take  the  field  with  vigour 
and  with  I'pirit,  when  the  public  caufe  demands  the  ex* 
ertion  of  the  ftate  againft  the  tuthor  of  civil  diicord,  or 
the  foreign  uiurper^  Oh,  my  friend  1  let  juihce  be  the 
bafis  of  the  liipren.e  authority,  and  the  love  of  a  grateful 
people  will  not  fail  to  be  its  moll  invigorating  principle, 
and  its  belt  fupport.  Tl:e  Have  will  fight  reluctantly  for 
his  prifon  and  his  chains  j  but  the  citizen,  who  is  lecure 
in  his  civil  rights,  who  loves  iiis  prince,  and  is  reciprocal- 
ly beloved,  will  haiard  himiclf  in  tlie  defence  of  the  au- 
thority to  which  he  is  indebted  for  his  own  protection. 
Amidft  the  hard/hips  of  the  campaign,  and  the  perils  of 
battle,  he  feels  hiir.feif  infiamed  with  the  idea  that  he  is 
Ibuggling  fur  his  fires  and  his  altars,  for  ail  that  can  be 
dear  to  l:im.' 

*  Ah!  thefckfTons,'  faid  Tiberius,  '  fink  deep  into 
my  heai  t :  they  are  delivered  with  words  that  barn  j 
tkly  kindle  a  flame  in  the  foul.  When  Ihali  I  be  able 
to  infpire  the  brealt  of  kings  with  fentimentslike  thcfe  !* 

*  It  is  now  clear,'  replied  Beliiarius.  *  that  the  true 
fplendour  and  authority  of  lovereigns  are  founded  onjuf- 
tice  }  that  virtue  and  bcnificence  Itrengthen  the  founda- 
tion]  anJ  ihe  moft  abfclutc  piincc  is  he  who  v:i^v,s  in 

.1  "  tlic 


r.ELISARlUS.  6t 

the  hearts  of  his  people/ — '  From  what  you  have  faid,* 
interpofed  Tiberius,  *  it  is  now  plain  that  true  policy  and 
reafon  are  convertible  terms  j  and  that  the  art  of  govern- 
ii)^  confifts  in  following  the  fuggtilions  of  wifdom  and 
bt  virtue.' — '  Vou  are  perfefllv  right,'  replied  Bciifari- 
Us  j  *  nothing  can  be  more  fimple,  more  eafy  in  the  prac- 
tice, and  iuic  of  its  effciSt.  The  emperor  Juftin,  origi- 
nally an  honell  peaiant  of  Illyria,  wno  came  to  a  throne 
from  the  plough,  found  the  way  to  endear  his  adminif- 
tration  to  mankind.  Was  it  owing  to  his  llcill  in  po- 
litics ?  Far  from  it  j  it  was  owing  to  the  re6li'-ude  of 
his  mind,  and  the  amiable  difpcfitions  of  his  heart. 
Were  it  my  lot  to  govern,  I  fhculd  ende:ivour  to  occu- 
py that  great  example.  Far  be  from  the  brealt  of  a 
prince  that  fly,  flow  policy,  that  looks  with  an  oblique 
eye  upon  every  thing.  It  looks  about  iiideed  with  a 
kind  of  indirefl  prudence,  and  recoils  in  time  from  rocks 
and  precipices  ;  but  it  is  inquietude  at  bell.  Row  unlike 
the  icienity  enjoyed  by  him  who  loles  all  thoughts  of 
Jelt  in  the  love  of  millions,  and  is  therefore  lefs  expoied 
than  the  Uioff  wary,  circumfpe6l,  and  fuipicicus  tyrant ! 
But  the  misfortune  is,  the  prince  is  too  often  alarmed 
by  artful  and  defigning  men:  he  is  taught  to  confider 
iiis  people  as  an  tnemy  to  be  dreaded  ;  and  tliat  dre::d, 
as  loon  as  impreffed,  leads  i-talitv  to  the  ideal  danger  j 
for  it  gives  birth  to  mjltrull,  and  niiftruft  is  the  mother 
oi'  hatred  and  of  malice. 

*  You  have  obfcrved  that  a  prince,  a  man  almoft  folita- 
ry  ana  without  ccnnexicns,  has  his  cares  and  wants  con- 
tracled  into  very  fcantv  limits  j  th;vt  at  his  ea!e  he  com- 
mands all  the  real  good  in  lifej  that  he  is  narrowly  cir- 
cumiciibed  j  and  all  beyond  a  fmall  circle  is  vanity,  il- 
Jufion,  and  deceit .  While  nature  prefcribes  to  him  to  be 
iTiocitrate  in  his  defircs,  all  things  about  him  irritate  his 
pafTions,  and  ftimulate  intemperance.  Alas !  v.ere  it 
his  aim  to  live  in  harmony  with  liis  people,  he  would 
liave  no  partv  but  his  fubjeols,  no  intcrclts  but  that  of 
tii^  itate.  How  differently  are  things  circumfianc-d  at 
prekiitl  All  confidence  is  extingulfhed  j  the  nectlntv  of 
F  bcir- 


62  EELISARIUS. 

being  ever  guarded  againft  a  turbulent  and  fedltious  po» 
pulace  is  inculcated  ;  and  a  (landing  army  is  maintained 
to  terrify  thole  who  fliould  be  cherifhed  by  their  love- 
reign.  By  thefe  means  the  prince  lives  at  variance  with 
his  fubjefts  j  his  party  is  formed,  and  ambition,  with  a 
train  of  inordinate  defires,  ftalks  at  the  head  of  it.  This 
hydra  of  faftion  is  ever  infatiable,  and  yet  unconftitu- 
tional  means  muft  be  tried  to  latisfy  its  rapacity.  Here 
then  is  the  firft  fpring  of  that  monllrous  dillin6llon, 
which  we  have  known  in  the  empire,  between  the  pro- 
vinces of  the  people  and  the  provinces  of  the  emperor, 
between  the  interefts  of  the  fubjeft  and  thofe  of  the  prince. 
The  idea  of  property  fhould  never  enter  the  thoughts  of 
the  fovereign.  When  once  his  imagination  is  (truck 
with  it,  it  follows  that  the  fccurity  of  the  crown  and  his 
life  feems  to  depend  upon  that  property,  and  by  a  natu- 
ral progrefs  avarice  tak^s  poflefiion  of  him.  He  thinks 
himfelf  enriched  by  the  inipoveri(hment  of  his  people  j 
and  whatever ^-apacity  has  feized  is  fet  down  as  clearer 
gain.  In  proportion  as  the  luhje6l  is  plundered,  he  ap- 
pears to  the  jealous  prince  reduced  to  a  deep  lubjeflion. 
Hence  ("cheines  of  rapine  on  the  one  hand,  dil'content  and 
repining  murmuis  on  the  otiier  j  and  hence  the  dark  feeds 
of  civil  war,  which,  like  fniothered  flames,  lie  brooding 
in  the  very  heart  of  the  (late,  and  at  kngth  break  out 
in  a  fudden  ei-uption  all  over  the  land.  Of  his  private 
coffers  the  fovereign  now  thinks  he  has  the  full  advan^- 
tage :  he  congratulates  himfelf  on  the  prudence  which 
fettled  his  uiealures  fo  long  btfore  hand  :  but,  fliort- 
fighted  man!  he  little  perceives  that,  by  being  jud,  he 
would  have  been  above  fuch  little  timid  precautions  ;  and 
that  all  the  mean,  and  of  courfe  cruel,  pafTicns,  which 
lift  tor  hiie  in  his  caufe,  would  be  vile  andufclefs,  if  vir- 
tue were  the  fpring  of  his  a6lions.  This,  my  friend 
Tiberius,  this  is  the  doftrine  which  the  future  Ibvereign 
ought  to  hear  froju  you.  Let  him  once  be  perfuaded 
that  the  Itate  and  the  Icvereign  are  but  one  tlung:  let 
him  underltanti  that  this  political  union  conftitutes  h.is 
true  Itrcngth,  the  bafis  of  his  dignity,  his  honom-,  and 

his 


BEIISARIUS.  6f 

kis  peace  ;  and  ideas  of  property  will  then  be  reJ€6\ed  as 
fordid  and  unworthy*.  His  folid  advantage  will  be 
placed  in  the  good  he  procures  for  his  people;  and  thus 
his  pafTions  will  transform  themlelves  to  the  virtues  of  a 
patriot  king,  jult  and  equitable  for  his  own  inttrelt,  mo- 
derate upon  principles  of  ambition,  and  benevolent 
through  every  lelfillincfs.  It  is  by  confidering  things 
in  this  way,  my  worthy  friend,  that  truth  appears  the 
parent  of  virtue.  But  truth,  I  grant  you,  appears  an 
hi  If  with  an  awkward  mien  at  court.  He  who  gains  her 
hrft  audience  Irom  a  king,  muft  have  been  endowed  with 
no  fmall  degree  cf  courage.  When  flattery  has  taught 
the  pernicious  maxims,  tliat  princes  reign  tor  themlelves 
alone  j  that  royal  independer.ee  confifts  in  the  gratifica- 
tions of  dcfirei  and  that  even  caprice  is  a  Itate-law;  tlie 
faithful  and  honeft  councellor  who  undertakes  to  refute 
this  notable  fyftem  will  not  be  graciouilv  received  ;  but 
let  him  be  once  heard,  and  he  will  ga^tf  the  royal  ear ; 
cne  tiTjth  eftabliflied,  the  reft  may  be  poured  upon  him 
with  rapidity,  for  they  are  fure  of  their  efFe6l  ;  and  the 
prince,  inftead  ot  dreading,  will  anticipate  the  conclu- 
fion. 

TiTith  will  now  derive  charms  from  virtue,  and  vir* 
tue  in  its  turn  will  lend  eir.bcllinaTients  to  truth.  It  is 
indilpenfibly  neceflary  that  the  latter  fliould  enlighten  the 
mind  j  for  the  inclination  of  our  nature  to  a  good,  whofe 
value  is  not  explained,  is  merely  a  blind,  a  vague,  and 
uncertain  inltinft.  But  a  defire  to  lei-ve  mankind  is  vir- 
tue, founded  on  the  knowledge  of  remote  and  extenli\e 
confequences.  To  know  the  interefts  cf  humanity  is  the 
true  Itudy  of  a  prince.  Whatever  is  juit,  whatever  is 
ufeful,  that  is  tioith,  and  the  truth  a  king  fhould  invefti- 
gate  ;  it  is  the  great  band  of  lociety  j  in  aii  bufinefs,  in 
every  tranfailion  of  lire,  it  upholds  the  chain  of  moral 
duties  J  on  mutual  wants  and  mutual  aids  giafts  human 
happinefs,and  makes  the  author  of  public  good  a  partaker 

♦  The  emperor  Trajan  was  ufed  to  compare  the  treafure  of  a 
prince  to  a  Iwelled  and  diftempered  fpleen,  which  enfeebles  and 
confumes  the  reft  of  the  body.  of 

F  s 


64  BELISARIUS. 

ker  of  the  bleflTings  he  heftows.  This  is  the  fit  employ- 
ment of  a  prince  j  to  this  he  fliouid  dedicate  his  days  i 
to  know  himfelf,  and  the  nature  of  man  ;  to  develope 
the  fecret  movements  of  the  heart,  the  operations  of  ha- 
bit, tlie  fpecific  qualities  of  chara6fcr,  the  influence  of 
opinion,  the  powers  and  the  weaknelTes  of  our  frame  ;  to 
ftudy  intenfcly,  and  not  with  frivolous  curiofity,  but  a 
fixed  and  (teady  determination  of  the  will,  with  a  perfe- 
verance  alarming  to  flatterers,  the  temper,  the  manners, 
and  the  relburces  of  his  people,  together  with  the  con- 
duff  ot  his  minillers  ^  and  in  this  noble  enquiry  <to  let  in 
light  to  the  judgment  on  every  fide,  with  a  deteftation 
of  the  chndefline  informer,  and  a  generous  encourage^- 
ment  of  thole  who  have  tlie  fpirit  to  call  aloud  for  a  re- 
drcfs  of  grievances  committed  in  his  name.  Thefe  are 
tiie  thmgs  which  conlfitute  the  love  of  truth;  and  thus, 
faid  he,  afldrefl^mg  himfelf  to  Tiberius,  thus  eveiy 
prince  will  lov„  it,  svhc  is,  as  he  ought  to  be,  perfuaded, 
that  to  be  great,  he  mult  be  juft  and  upright.  In  con- 
veying fhefe  fentiments  to  him,  you  will  inftru6l  him 
how  to  l)e  free  and  independent  in  the  midlf  of  a  court  j 
for  it  is  there  he  muft  be  jealous  of  his  liberty.  To 
make  him  fenfibie  of  this,  will  be  'he  arduous  part  of 
your  undertaking :  this  is  the  point  which  you  muft  la- 
bour with  allidui'y  ar.d  finnnefs.' — *  It  fliaii  be  done,' 
faid  Tiberius,  '  when  I  am  armed  with  your  inftruc- 
tions."* — Here  the  converfation  broke  off,  and  they  took 
leave  of  each  other. 

*  It  has  happened  by  fome  ftrange  fatality,'  faid  the 
emperor,  '  that  in  all  ages  and  countries  the  friends  of 
mankind  have  been  hated  by  thole  who  are  bound  to  be 
the  fathers  of  the  people.  The  popularity  of  Belifarius 
was  his  only  crime  :  it  was  that  alone  provoked  his  ene- 
mies, and  perhaps  alarmed  my  jealonfy.  Alas  !  they 
piade  me  fear  him  j  it  had  been  better  if  I  had  endea- 
VOMr^d  to  imitate  him.'  CHAf, 


IPELISARIUS,  65 

CHAP.    X. 

ABOUT  the  fame  hour  of  the  following  day,  Belifi- 
rius,  expecting  his  vifitorSjfeatedhimfcU  again  under 
the  old  oak,  upon  the  road,  where  he  had  received  thein 
the  night  before.  He  faid,  in  a  low  fcliloquy,  *  to  have 
found  two  virtuous  men,  who  beguile  me  from  myfelf, 
and  enter  thus  into  a  difcuifion  of  the  great  objects  of 
humanity,  is  a  circumftance  that  alleviates  my  misfor- 
tunes. How  foothing  to  contemplate  the  focial  inter^fts 
ofoian!  My  afflictions  are  foftened  by  it  !  The  very 
idea  of  being  but  remotely  conducive  to  the  welfare  of 
nations  has  raifed  me  above  mvfelf,  and  now  I  fee  how 
the  ditfufion  of  benevolence  to  a  whole  people  aflimilates 
man  to  his  Divine  Creator.' 

Juftinian  and  Tiberius  overheard  thefe  iaft  words  as 
they  approached.  *  You  are  warm  in  the  praiie  of  be- 
neficence,' faid  the  emperor  J  '  and  indeed  beneficence, 
of  all  the  virtues,  affords  the  molt  endearing  and 
the  fweeteft  fenfations.  Happy  the  man  whofe  lot  it  is 
to  enjoy  fo  noble  a  pleafure  r — <  And  yet  this  fupreme 
delight  muft  be  talted  with  moderation,'  replied  the  hero, 
<  for  even  gccdnefs  itfclf,  if  not  condu61ed  by  wifdom 
and  jullice,  degenerates  into  an  open  vice.  Attend, 
young  man,'  faid  he,  to  Tiberius,  *  and  maik  what  I 
have  to  offer  on  this  head. 

'  Of  fovereign  authority  the  higheft  aff  is  the  diftribu- 
tion  of  favours  and  marks  oi  grace  :  this  partakes  of  the 
nature  of  beneficence,  and  is  therefore  a  pleafing  exertion 
of  power  ;  but  in  the  exercife  of  it,  it  is  requinte  that 
the  prince  fliouid  be  guarded  againit  feduclion.  The 
whole  ol  his  intelligence  muft  arii'e  from  thofe  who  ap- 
proach his  perfon ;  and  of  that  number  there  is  not  one 
who  does  not  for  ever  inculcate,  that  the  feat  of  majefty 
is  in  the  court  j  that  ail  regal  fpkndour  is  derived  from 
the  brilliant  appearance  that  enlivens  the  palace  j  and 
that  the  moft  valuable  prerogative  of  the  crown  diipiays 
itfelf  by  a  profufion  of  favours,  which  are  ft  vied  the  mu- 
nificence of  the  fovereign.  Gracious  iieaven  !  the  muni- 
ficence !  it  is  the  fubftance  of  the  people  he  beftows  ;  the 
F  3  fpoils 


66  BELISARIUS. 

fpoils  of  the  poor  and  indigent !  Thus  the  prince  is  de. 
ceived  by  words :  adulation  and  treachery  bciiege  his 
thrcne  ;  aflidiiity  for  ever  pays  its  court  j  and  the  habit 
of  refufing  nothing  gains  upon  the  credulous  fovereign, 
who  little  thinks  of  the  tears  extorted  from  the  poor  by 
the  extravagance  of  the  court:  exultation  fills  the  palace, 
and  eveiy  room  echoes  with  prail'es  of  the  royal  muni- 
ficence. That  munificence  sflumes  the  mien  of  virtue, 
and  wealth  is  fquandered  without  confidering  from  whence 
it  came,  Alas  !  would  kings  refleft  how  their  fplcn- 
dour  grows  out  of  themifery  of  others ;  and  for  the  fake 
of  an  ungrateful  crew,  what  a  number  groan  in  wretch- 
ednefs !  But,  Tiberius,  the  prince  wlio  has  one  true 
friend,  will  be  fure  to  know  this  ;  and  he  will  know  be- 
fides,  that  true  beneficence  confilts  more  in  oeconomy 
than  lavifh  diftribution ;  that  every  partial  grant  is  in- 
jultice  to  merit,  and  from  that  injuftice  fpring  all  the 
word  evils  that  can  dilhadf  a  ftate.' 

<  You  bciiold  the  mui:ificence  of  fovereigns,'  faid  Ti- 
berius, *  with  an  eye  of  feverity/ — *  I  conuder  it  in  its 
true  light,'  replied  the  hero,  '  as  a  mere  perfonal  at- 
tachment, which,  in  the  choice  of  men  for  public  offi- 
ces, counterad s  the  natural  courfe  of  juft ice,  of  nature, 
and  of  reafon.  For  juftice  appropriates  honours  to  vir- 
tue, and  rewards  to  merit :  for  the  arduous  bufinefs  of 
high  empioy.nents  nature  brings  forth  great  abilities  and 
conlummace  talents  j  and  furely  reafon  direff  s  that  qf 
men  the  bell  pofTjble  ufe  fhould  be  made  ?  but  partiality 
confers  the  recompenfe  due  to  virtue  upon  elegant  and 
polifhed  vice  j  and  thus  complaifance  is  preferred  to  ho- 
Dtii  zeal,  adulation  to  tiuth,  and  meannefs  to  elevatio)) 
ofilul.  The  iuperficial  gift  of  pleafing,  as  if  it  were 
I'uperior  to  every  other  gift  of  nature,  afpires  to  all  the 
favours  of  the  crown,  and  generally  engrolTes  them. — 
Fro.M  rlefe  premifes  it  may  be  inferred,  that  partiality 
in  ;iie  diftribution  of  favours  is  the  lure  mark  of  a  bad 
reign;  and  the  prince  who  religns  into  the  hands  of  a  fa- 
vourite the  honour  of  his  crown  and  the  welfare  of  his 
people,  brhigs  matters  to  ihi^  dilemma^  he  cither  fets 

a  fmal! 


BELISAP.IUS.  67 

Vi.  fmall  value  upon  what  he  confides  to  his  favourite,  or 
he  alcribes  to  his  own  choice  the  power  of  triinsfornJng 
the  fouls  of  men,  as  if  he  were  able  to  mould  a  ftatefman 
or  an  hero  out  oi"  a  fuperannuated  Have  or  a  youthful 
profligHiu' 

*  That,'  faid  Tiberius,  «  would  be  an  attempt  of  the 
mc(ft  abfurd  futiilt)'  j  but  employments  abouvid  In  all 
ftates,  which  may  be  competently  filled  by  m.en  of  very 
ordinary  talents.' 

*  Not  a  fingle  employment,'  replied  Belifarius,'  which 
does  not  demand,  if  not  an  able,  at  leatt  an  hcneit  man  j 
but  royal  favour  is  little  Iblicitous  about  the  one  or  the 
other  ;  on  the  contrary,  both  are  negle6led  ;  or,  ftill  worfe, 
they  are  fure  to  meet  all  the  little  indignities  of  a  Icorn- 
ful  repulfe.  Hence  every  talent  dies  in  its  bloom,  ami 
every  virtue  withers  in  the  bud.  Of  talents  and  of  vir- 
tues emulation  is  the  vivifying  foul  j  but  partiality  is  im- 
mediate death.  The  ftate  in  wluch  this  vice  prevails, 
may  be  compai-ed  to  thofe  warte  and  defoiatc  tia6ls, 
which  certain  ufeful  plants  fpontaneoufly  flioot  up,  but 
are  robbed  of  their  nutriment  by  the  briars  and  brambles 
that  infe61:  the  land  :  and  yet  this  image  of  phyfical  eyil 
does  not  fully  exprefs  the  political  miichlef  j  for  under  a 
reign  of  favouritlfm,  the  briars  and  the  brambles  are 
cherifhed,  and  every  falutary  plant  is  eradicated  and 
trampled  under  foot.' 

'  You  feem  to  afl'ume,'  faid  Tiberius,  *  that  the  royal 
favour  invariably  wants  itsduedircernmentof  fpirits,  and 
is  never  able  to  make  a  right  choice  of  men.' 

*  Rarely,  if  ever,'  replied  Belifarlus,  «  inibmuch  that  if 
the  feivants  of  the  public  weie  choien  by  lot,  it  would 
be  a  more  infallible  mode  of  ele(5lion.  Partiality  grants 
its  favours  to  thofe  only  who  intrigue  for  them  :  but 
merit  difdains  the  little  arts  of  intrigue  j  and  that  manly 
pride  is  decyphered  by  court  interpreters  into  neglefl  of 
the  fovereign,  who  therefore  repays  it  with  calmdifdain, 
while  thealfiduity  of  low  ambition  reaps  every  advantage. 
To  a  prince  thus  prejudiced.,  whatacccfs  can  there  be  for 
t^t  fage  or  the  heio  ?  Can  they  degrr.de  their.felves  to  the 

pliancy 


6S  BELiSARlUS. 

pliancy  of  flaves  ?  Can  dignity  of  mind  fubmlt  to  be  a 
cringing  candidate  for  court  favour?  If  nobility  of  birth 
gives  a  title  to  approach  the  perfon  of  the  fovereign, 
what  part  is  to  be  a6led  in  a  circle  of  favourites,  by  truth, 
integrity,  and  honour  ?  Are  they  likely  to  excel  in  the 
dexterities  of  flattery  and  diflimuiaticn  ?  Will  they  con- 
defcend  to  pry  into  the  paflions  of  their  mailer,  and  ex- 
plore the  fecret  propenfities  of  his  heart  ?  The  charafters 
of  the  fycophant,  the  difl'erabler,  and  thefahe  friend,  will 
be  better  played  by  others,  who  know  how  to  touch  the 
ftring  that  founds  gratefully  to  the  royal  ear,  and  to  fly 
ever  that  which  will  off"end.  Virtue  would  appear  awk- 
ward in  the  attempt.  The  favourite  will  acquit  hinifelf 
with  grace  in  a!l  thefe  particulars,  but  fl:ill  it  will  ever 
be  a  million  to  one  that  he  is  unworthy  of  the  diftin<^ion 
he  enjo)s.' 

'  The  favourite  of  a  difceming,  iuft,  equitable  prince,* 
interpofed  the  emperor,  *  will,  moft  probably,  be  a  man 
of  integrity.'' 

*  In  the  court  of  a  dlfcemlngj  juft,  and  equitable 
prince,'  replied  Belifarius,  *  there  will  be  no  fuch  perfon 
as  a  favourite  ;  fuch  a  prince  will  be  worthy  of  friends, 
and  he  will  have  them  :  but  favour  will  do  nothing  for 
them.  A  faithful  fervant  would  blufli  to  be  fo  enriched. 
If  ever  there  was  a  faithful  fervant,  the  emperor  Trajan 
had  fuch  an  one  to  boaft  of  in  his  minifter  Longinus. 
That  true  and  worthy  friend  of  his  mailer  was  taken 
prilbner  by  the  Dacians  ;  the  king  of  that  people  lignified 
to  the  emperor,  that  unlefs  he  acceded  to  the  conditions 
of  peace  propofed  to  him,  the  captive  minifter  fliould  be 
put  to  death.  And  what  was  Trajan's  anfwer  ?  He  left 
it  to  the  honour  of  Longinus  to  decide,  as  Regulus  h?4 
formerly  done  in  his  own  cafe.  Behold  there  the  model  of 
public  characters !  Thofe  are  the  men  I  have  iii  view  I 
How  glorious  to  be  the  friend  of  fuch  a  prince!  Longinus 
law  the  bright  cccafion,  and  with  afublime  of  virtue  dif- 
patchtd  himlelf,  lelf  pity  fliould  take  pofleflion  of  die 
emperor,  and  incline  him  to  an  a6l  of  partiality  or  per- 
ibnal  i-egaid/  *  I  arc 


BELISARIUS,  69 

<  I  am  overpowered  by  ti;e  weight  of  your  realoningb, ' 
faid  Tiberius  :  '  yes,  I  now  perceive,  tiiat  the  public 
weal,  when  rightly  underltood,  gives  no  latitude  to  the 
affeiiions  of  the  Ibverelgn  :  but  are  there  not  iscldents, 
unconne(!rted  with  the  inttrcfts  ot"  the  people,  in  which  he 
may  realbnably  give  a  icope  to  his  priva»^e  affecllons  ?' 

*  I  anlwer  in  the  negative,'  replied  Bclilaiius:  •  the 
prince  has  no  politive  unconnected  intereft  j  every  thing 
IS  relative  to  the  whole.  The  linallell  matters  are  of  im- 
portance, and  even  the  very  civilities  of  a  king  muft  be 
addrdled  with  caution.  Royal  favour,  it  has  been  laid, 
is  but  a  partial  evil,  and  difplays  itielf  only  in  little 
things  i  but  a  deviation  horn  tlie  i\r\6t  rule  of  right,  even 
in  trdles,  will  foon  become  habitual,  and  tVoin  imHJi  ir- 
regularities to  great  excels  the  progrcU  is  rapid.  The 
circle  of  the  fovereign's  favour  enlarges  it:elf,  and  to 
bafk  in  the  furifhine  of  his  fmiles  grov/s  a  genex-al  defire  j 
each  courtier  drives  to  wriggle  himfeif  into  favour:  and 
the  fence  thus  thrown  dowr.,  how  fivill  a  pn.fce  refi;t  the 
ardour  of  importunity,  and  the  frequency  of  folication? 
The  fence  that  fhould  guard  him,  mv  oelt  Tiberius,  is  a 
determination  of  the  will  to  be  always  juft  and  good. 
When  a  principle  of  uprightnefs  is  known  to  guide  the 
choice  of  men,  it  muft  thsn  De  merit,  and  merii:  alone, 
that  can  hope  for  preferment.  Talents,  exalted  qualities, 
and  emineiit fervices,  form  the  only admiffible  claim;  the 
candidate  for  honours  muft  render  himielf  w^rihy  of 
them.  Intrigue  is  difcountenanced,  and  einulatlon  is  ani- 
mated. Ambition  is  obliged  to  proceed  by  mainy  vv.ivs, 
and  ftarting  at  the  thought  of  being  detected,  abavdons 
her  little  fchemes  of  perfiiy  ar.d  cunning.  Kow  diitcrent 
is  the  cafe,  when  the  prince  is  under  the  influence  of  p-r- 
fonal  atfcftion  ?  To  gain  the  afcendant  over  thnt  affec- 
tion, becomes  the  bufmefs  of  all.  He  who  poifelles  the 
arts  of  infjnuation,  and  knows  hcvto  cabal  with  thefer- 
vants  of  upper  ilrvants,  purfues  I'.is  arudgery  through  all 
its  ftages,  and  creeps  up  to  preferment,  meanly  nfmg  to 
fplendid  infamy.  In  the  mean  time,  the  man  of  v.rtuous 
pride  retires,  and  with  the  confentof  all  he  is  refigned  to 

oblivion. 


70  BELISASIUS^ 

oblivion.  If  it  fhould  happen  that  for  fome  important 
fervice  he  is  called  from  obfcuiity,  to  mike  one  in  the 
glittering  crowd  ;  or  if  it  fliould  be  necclVary  to  employ 
him  on  fome  occafion  worthy  of  his  abilities  ;  (landing 
unconnefled  with  fa6lion,  he  finds  all  p?j:ties  combined 
againft  him,  till  at  length  it  is  vifible,  that  he  muft  either 
debafe  himfelf,  by  counteru;inding  the  dark  deeds  of  his 
enemies,  or  elfe  furrender  to  them  at  difcretion.  The 
court  where  intrigue  prevails,  is  a  wild  uproar  of  paf- 
fions,  in  which  the  ifili  voice  of  truth  can  never  be  heaid. 
The  public  good  is  an  unregarded  thing,  and  penbnal 
affedion  is  the  fountain  ot  all  praife  and  cenfure  ;  par- 
tiality paffcs  its  decifions  upon  all  occurrences  ;  and  the 
prince,  encompafled  round  with  fallchoods,  diitra5ied 
with  doubt,  lufpicion,  and  muftruft,  fcarcely  ever  puts 
an  end  to  the  waverings  of  his  mind,  but  to  terminate  in, 
error. 

*  Why  does  not  he  depend  upon  the  evidence  of 
hSis  r  faid  Tiberius  j  *  facls  are  obftinate  witnefies^ 
and  the  teftimony  they  give  is  bold  and  loud.' 

*  Fa^s,'  replied  Bclifarius,  «  are  not  fo  obftinate  as 
you  imagine:  they  take  anew  complexion  from  the  con- 
trariety of  reporters.  Every  enterprife  is  judged  by  its 
event;  and  yet  events  too  frequently  give  the  palm  to 
rafhnefs,  and  defeat  the  beil  concerted  fchemes  of  genius 
and  ability.  Men  are  often  more  fortunate  than  wife, 
and  there  are  occafions  when  the  proportion  is  re- 
verfed.  In  either  cafe,  the  characters  of  men  may  fuf- 
fer  much  from  prejudice,  and  that  more  particularly  in. 
a  court,  where  the  colours  of  good  and  evil  are  all  de- 
rived from  the  prevailing  opinions  ot  party  and  taflion.' 

*  Juftinian,  in  his  old  age,  is  a  melancholy  example,* 
fald  the  emperor  ;   '  he  has  been  cruelly  deceived  !' 

*  Alas!  replied  Belifarius,  *  who  has  more  reafon 
than  myfelf  to  knew  what  has  been  pra6tift  J  upon  the 
credulity  of  Juftinian  ?  Who  is  better  acquainted  with 
the  fnares  that  fa6\ion  laid  for  him  ?  It  was  faction 
fent  Narfes  into  Italy,  to  interrupt  the  profperity  of  Be- 
lilarius.     The  emperor  Uttle  imagined  that  a  minifter  of 

the 


BELISARIUS.  71 

the  finances  would  be  a  dangerous  rival  of  the  general : 
but  Narfes  had  his  taftion  at  court,  and  he  Toon  found 
one  in  the  camp  :  a  fpirit  of  difl'cntion  prevailed,  and 
Milan,  the  bulwark,  of  Italy,  was  loft.  Narfcs  was  re- 
called, but  too  late  j  the  tide  of  fuccefs  was  now  ebbing 
away :  Milan  had  been  lacked,  her  inhabitants  put  to 
the  Iword,  and  all  Liguria  diihiembcred  from  the  empire. 
That  Narfes  was  pardoned  by  the  emperor  I  muft  heartily 
rejoice  ;  for  the  life  of  fo  gr^at  a  mnn  we  have  an  obli- 
gation, at  leaft,  to  the  decline  of  all  military  difcipline. 
In  the  virtuous  days  of  the  republic,  for  the  comphcated 
crimes  of  dlfobedlence,  and  the  feduftion  of  part  of  my 
army,  Narfes  would  have  atoned  with  his  head.  I  was 
recalled  in  my  turn.  To  fucceed  me  in  the  command  of 
the  anny,  eleven  chiefs,  all  jealous  of  each  other,  were 
appointed  by  a  new  fangled  party.  Dilcord  prevailed  in 
their  councils,  and  they  were  defeated.  By  this  means 
we  loft  all  Italy.  The  commmd  wss  transrerred  to  me, 
but  I  was  a  general  without  an  army.  I  was  obliged  to 
traverfe  over  Thrace  and  Illyria  in  qucit  of  ibldiers.  A 
fcanty  p.umber,  not  exceeding  four  thousand,  was  col- 
Icded  together.  With  this  ralh-levied  body,  wiu)  had 
neither  c loathes,  hories,  ariiis,  nor  provifions,  I  marched 
into  Italy.  In  this  condition,  what  was  to  be  done? 
With  the  utmoft  difficulty  I  prevented  Rome  from  fall- 
ing into  the  hands  of  the  enemy.  The  cabal  at  court  re- 
joiced at  this  diiaftrous  profpeft  of  affairs  :  *'  Tnings  are 
going  as  we  could  wifh,"  laid  they  ;  *'  lie  is  in  the  laft  ex- 
tremity, mereiv  ftanding  at  a  bay  little,  to  b^  preieniiy 
overwhelmed  in  ruin."  '  AmiJlt  the  defolaticn  of  their 
country,  I  was  the  only  objeil  of  their  attciiLion  :  to  fee 
my  ruin  accomplifhed  thty  wo-^iiid  have  compounded  to 
fee  the  itate  ihook  to  its  foundations.  I  demanded  a  iup- 
ply  of  men,  and  I  was  recalled.  N.irfes,  with  apoweriul 
army,  was  appointed  to  fucceed  nie  j  and,  beyond  ail  c^uef- 
tion,  Naries  had  abilities  to  juftify  the  choice.  Tliat  he 
was  named  to  the  command  was  perhaps  a  public  bene- 
fit;  but  before  I  was  wounded,  tlie  commonwealth  re- 
ceived a  ftab  :  the  ruin  of  Belifarius  was  purchafcd  at  the 

exp:'nce 


7Z  LELISARIUS. 

expence  of  the  ftate.  There  lies  the  mifclilefcf  party.  To 
rail'e  or  overtvirn  a  rmgle  man,  an  entire  aiiiiy,  peihaps 
an  empire,  mull  he  iacrificed.' 

'  Alas !'  exclaimed  Juttininn,  *  T  now  perceive  the 
treacherous  arts  by  which  yourglory  was  oblcured.  What 
an  indelible  rtain  to  the  emperor,  thus  to  have  believed 
the  liiggeftions  of  your  enemies  !' 

*  My  good  neighbour/  replied  Belifarius,  <  you  are 
little  aware  of  the  rcfir;ement  which  court  pulicy  has  ac- 
quired in  the  arts  ot  deftru6lion;  you  do  not  know  the 
genius  of  intrigue,  hew  active  it  is,  how  peri'cvering, 
how  afiii'uous  and  implacable.  Relpei^liul  ar.d  obfequiovi 
to  the  llntiments  of  the  fovercign,  it  manages  vi-ith  .cau- 
tion, and  works  its  effect  by  degrees,  like  the  drop  of 
water  that  only  crzes  at  firft  through  its  fence,  faps  on 
by  iuiperceptihle  ftrckes,  and  then  in  one  rufliing  torrent 
bears  tlcwnall.  Cabal  and  party  have  this  further  ad- 
vantage en  their  fide,  that  the  man  of  honour  is  without 
mi(b-.iit,  ami  of  cour'e  without  precaution:  he  has  no- 
thing to  oppole  to  the  malice  of  his  enemies,  but  his  up- 
right conduct,  which  is  ever  diftoloured  by  envy,  and 
liis  honelt  i'ame,  of  whicn  the  report  that  rings  through- 
cut  the  lealm  expires  ajid  dies  away  at  the  gates  ot  the 
palace.  Envy  alone  is  privileged  v.'ithin  the  verge  of  the 
coinr,  and  the  chaia^Sler  ag:;inft  which  her  fliatts  are 
aimed  is  iure  to  fall  a  victim.  In  the  courfe  ot  human 
contingencies  it  cannot  otherwife  happen,  but  that  every 
commanctr  nuiit  experience  th.e  vicillitudcs  oi  fcitune, 
and  foM\  his  train  ot  victory  ibmetimes  interrupted;  of 
every  cafualty  envy  takes  advantage,  and  makes  even 
accidents  a  ground  of  impeachment.  Has  the  commander 
done  all  that  was  polfible  ?  Ke  ought  to  have  done  betreij 
any  body  but  himlelf  would  have  a(Sted  upon  a  different 
plan;  he  did  not  make  a  right  u!"e  of  his  cppcrtunities. 
The  charge  agrinft  him  is  aggravated,  and  the  good  he 
has  dene  dwiudles  into  nothing.  The  refult  is,  that  the 
man  wl.o  c:^n  be  ufeful  to  his  country  is  tliemoftdaiiger- 
cu.s  perion  in  it.  To  the  mis-ortune  of  the  public  h  s 
dov<nfai  is  tifc^ledj  and  to  their  orcater  mlsfcrtnr.e,  icme 

worthltis 


BELISARIUS.  73 

worthlefs  wretch  Is  lure  to  rile  upon  his  ruins.  Another 
concomitant  evil  is,  the  impredion  made  upon  the  minds 
of  men  by  the  melancholy  prol'peft  or  virtue  in  dilbefs, 
and  of"  vice  exulting  in  prolperity.  Public  Ipirit  grows 
languid  at  the  refledion,  that  all  the  fine  incentives  of 
honour  are  extinguifhed ;  guilt  is  cDiboldened,  the  evil 
conl'cience  forgets  to  bluHi,  and  excelfes  of  every  kind 
riot  with  impunity.  Such  arc  the  evils  that  attend  a 
reign  ot  favouritifan.  Judge  yourl'elf  how  fuch  a  difpoli- 
tion  may  precipitate  the  ruin  of  the  ftate. 

*  Without  doubt/  faid  Juftlnian, '  it  is  the  mofl  danger- 
ous infirmity  that  ever  bialled  the  mind  of  a  prince  j  but 
in  an  old  man,  who  for  thirty  years  has  Itruggled  to  no 
purpofe  in  the  ftorms  of  fortune,  and  at  la^,  in  fpitc  of 
all  his  efforts,  fees  the  tempell  ready  to  burft  in  ruin  on 
his  head  ;  in  one  thus  worn  out  with  age  and  troubles, 
may  it  not  be  deemed  an  excufable  weaknefs,  if  he  en- 
deavours to  fweeten  his  cares,  or  at  leaft  to  alleviate  them, 
by  indulging  the  private  affeftions  ?  It  will  anfwer  no 
purpofe  to  be  too  fanguine  in  our  hopes  j  let  us  not  de- 
ceive ourielves  with  flattering  ideas  of  the  public  con- 
dition :  ev^en  now  the  empire,  by  its  own  weiglit,  is  tot- 
tering to  its  fall.  By  a  lengrh  of  duration  all  its  vigour 
is  exhaufted,  and  it  muft  (hare  at  lall  the  common  fate 
which  brought  the  empires  of  Belus  and  Cyrus  to  their 
defiblution.  Like  them  it  has  flourifhed  in  I'plendour, 
and  like  tlvem  it  muft  moulder  into  ruin.' 

*  I  am  no  fataliit,'  replied  Belilarlus,  '  in  regard  to  re- 
volutions of  government :  that  would  b*  to  give  a  fanc- 
tion  to  our  preient  degeneracy  of  fphit,  and  make  defpaii- 
fyftematical.  That  all  fublunary  tbmgs,  and  kingdoms 
amongi't  them,  perlQi  and  die  away,  I  am  not  now  to 
Jearn  ;  but  that  nature  has  traced  the  bounck  of  exiftence' 
to  all  its  productions,  i'eem.s  a  portion  rather  problema- 
tical. Tne  body  natural  indeed  has  its  period  when  the 
animal  functions  decay,  ajid  calmly  we  welcome  death  ; 
but  there  never  does  occur  a  moment  in  which  it  is  al- 
lowed us  to  deipair  of  the  commonwealth.  The  body- 
politic,  it  rauft  not  be  diffcmbled,  is  fubje^  to  convul- 

G  fions 


74  BELISARIUS. 

fions  that  (hake  its  frame,  to  Ao  .v  diibrders  that  confumc 
its  vigour,  and  to  ipaihis  that  elevate  for  a  while,  to 
plunge  It  -nro  deeper  deje61ion  afterwards.  Activity,  it 
is  true,  ftrair.s  all  its  efforts ;  repofe  is  apt  to  relax  ; 
and  civil  contention  breaks  the  conltitutional  ftrength  , 
but  not  one  of  thcfe  accidents  is  mortal  in  its  nature. 
Nations  have  been  faved  from  the  very  brink  of  deltruc- 
tion  }  they  have  emerged  from  the  very  depth  of  miicry  ; 
and,  after  Itruggling  through  thefevercftcniis,  have  been 
reanirr^ated  to  a  vigour  unknown  before.  The  dcclcniion 
of  ftates  is  not  thrcfore  maiked  out  j  the  line  is  not  drawn, 
like  tne  limits  of  human  life.  Old  age  is  unknown  to  the 
bodv-poiitic  5  it  is  the  chimera  of  miitalcen  theorifts.  The 
fame  ardour  of  hope  that  infpircs  the  heart  of  valour,  may 
extend  its  influence,  and  give  animation  for  any  length  of 
tinje.  The  conltiiutlon  of  the  empire  is  now  enfeebled, 
or  rathei  it  has  funk  into  a  languid  ftate  :  but  for  every 
poi;bn  there  is  on  antidote  in  nature,  and  it  behoves  us 
to  dilccrn  it.' — Let  us  inveifigate  it  together,'  faid  the 
emperor  j  *  there  will  be  fomethmg  foothlng  in  the  re- 
fearch :  but  before  we  tmnk  ot  the  remedy,  let  us  trace 
the  diforder  to  li^s  firlt  principles.'' — *  I  am  willing  to  en- 
ter into  the  difcuHion,'  replied  Belifarius,  *  and  it  viili 
fur„iih  us  ample  .r.attcr  for  our  future  meetings.' 

CHAP.  X. 

THE  next  day  Juftinian  was  impatient  to  fee  Belifa- 
rius. He  longed  to  have  the  veil  torn  off  which  hid 
the  lurking  mifcuiers  of  the  ea.pire,  and  he  prefTed  with 
eagernefs  to  the  interview.  Beiii'arius  dated  his  reflections 
from  the  asra  or  Conftantine.  *  How  much  is  it  to  be  la- 
mented,' faid  the  hero,  *  that  fo  enlarged  a  genius,  with 
all  that  firamefs,  that  fpirit  of  enterprife,  iliould  egre- 
giouily  milfake  the  fitncfs  of  the  means  to  produce  the 
end  defired,  and  exert  for  the  extinction  of  the  empire 
more  vigour  and  aiStivity  than  would  have  beei  uectf- 
fary  to  retrieve  its  ancient  honours  !  His  new  fyflem  of 
goverriinent  was  a  maHer-lfroke  of  human  wit:  the  Prae- 
torian bands  abolilhed }  the  children  of  the  poor  and  help- 

Icfs 


BELISARIUS.  7? 

\ch  adopted  by  the  ftate*  ;  the  authority  of  the  pa&^ 
dillributed  into  more  hands,  and  weakened  of  courie  j 
the  lands  upon  the  frontiers  afligned  to  the  veteran  ibl- 
dier,  who  formtd  an  Agrarian  army  for  the  defence  of 
the  empire  :  this  was  indeed  a  wile  inftirution,  a  large 
and  ccmpreiienfive  policy.  Why  did  not  he  adhere  entirely 
to  a  plan  fo  jult  and  fimpie  ?  He  did  not  iee,  or  he  was 
imwiliing  to  fee  that,  to  tranfpiant  the  ieat  of  empire,  it 
muft  be  torn  up  by  the  very  roots.  In  vain  did  he  pro- 
pofe  to  himfelf  that  the  city  he  was  founding  fliould  be  a 
lecond  Rome  j  in  vain  was  the  latter  defpoiled  of  its  rich- 
eft  ornaments  for  the  decoration  of  the  former:  it  was  a 
mere  theatiicai  ihvfiing  of  fcenery,  the  gaudy  fpeftacle 
r)t  a  pantomime.* 

*  You  aftonifn  me,"  faid  Tiberius,  interrupting  him  ;  *  I 
was  ufed  to  think  the  capital  of  the  world  more  ?.dvan- 
tageoufty  fituated  up.n  the  Bofphorus,  in  the  middle  of 
the  two  leas,  and  between  Europe  and'Afia,  than  in  the 
heart  of  Italy,  upon  the  banks  ot  a  river  which  fcarce 
delerves  the  name  navigable.' 

*  Conftantine  thought  as  you  do,'  replied  Belilarlu?, 
*  and  he  was  iriftaken.  The  Itate  which  is  obliged  to 
carry  war  into  foreign  territories,  mull  be  governed  by  a 
found  in.ternai  policy,  compa6l  within  itfclt,  and  eafy  to 
be  defended.  Such  was  the  advantage  of  Italy.  The 
hand  of  nature  feemed  to  have  made  it  a  relidence  for  the 
mafters  ot  the  world.  The  mountains  anu  the  fea  which 
indole  it  formed  a  itrong  barrier  againlt  invafion :  guard 
but  the  Alps,  and  Pvome  was  gu;:rded  too.  It  that  i-nce 
proved  tco  weak  to  repel  the  enemy,  the  Appennires  af- 
forded a  fafe  retreat,  and  fei'ved  as  a  ram. part  lo  hall  Italy, 
It  was  there  that  Caniillus  gave  the  Gauls  a  fignal  over- 
throw ;  and  in  that  fpot  Narles  obtained  his  briilant  vic- 
tory over  Totila. 

*  When  the  parent  \vas  unable  to  maintain  his  child,  the  fiute 
took  the  charge  upon  itfelf,  aiid  the  infant  was  educated  at  the  ex- 
pence  of  the  public  -.  and  this  law  Conftantine  directed  to  be  ergra- 
ved  on  marble,  that  he  might  perpetuate  it  through  all  fuccelTive 
ages.  G  z  At 


J6  BHLISARIU3. 

At  prcfent  the  empire  has  no  fixed  immovable  centre : 
but  lies  open  and  expofed  to  all  the  afl'aults  of  fortune. 
Afk  the  Scythian,  the  Sarniatian,  and  the  Sclavonian, 
whether  the  Heber,  the  Danube,  and  the  Tanais,  are  bar- 
Tiers  to  ob(tru6l  tlie  march  ?  On  that  fide  Bazantium  is 
Aur  only  fence  }  that  its  walls  are  not  in  due  repair  is  not 
the  circumltance  that  grieves  nie  moft. 

*  V.'^iitn  Rome  was  the  feat  of  empire,  the  eftablillied 
policy  of  government  was  able  to  carry  the  vigour  of  its 
laws  from  the  centre  to  the  extremity  of  the  ftate :  all 
Italy  was  under  its  immediate  influence,  within  the  reach 
of  the  adminiitration  ;  the  law  gave  the  tone  to  the  nian- 
ners,  and  the  manners  in  their  turn  made  grave  and  faith- 
ful minilkrs  of  jullice.  We  have  indeed  now  the  fame 
inltitutions  ;  but  as  all  is  tranfplanted  from  the  place  of  its 
growth,  the  confequence  is,  that  every  thing  droops,  as 
if  regretting  its  native  foil.  The  empire  is  not  collected 
in  itleH'  as  it  was  before  :  it  is  enlarged,  and  thereby  weak- 
ened. The  national  charafler  has  loll:  its  fplrit  :  even 
the  endearing  name  of  country  is  gone  forth  amongft 
us.  Italy  was  renowned  for  men  who  imbibed  with 
their  firft  breath  the  love  of  their  country,  and  grew 
to  manhood  amidft  the  exercifes  of  the  Carnfus  Martius. 
At  prefent,  where  is  the  cradle,  and  where  the  Ichool 
of  warriors  ?  The  Dalmatians,  the  Illyrians,  and  the 
Thracians,  who  are  now  mingled  with  us,  are  in  fa6f  a$ 
foreign  as  the  Numidians  and  the  Moors.  No  common 
intereft  to  unite  them  into  one  common  caul'e,  no  kin- 
dred fpirit  to  afluateand  infpire  them.  "  Remember  tkatyou 
are  Romansy^  laid  a  con\mander  to  his  foldiers  in  the  days 
of  the  old  republic  5  and  that  fliort  harangue  was  of  ef- 
ficacy to  brace  their  nerves  for  labour,  and  to  render  them 
invincible  in  battle.  What  animating  topic  have  we  to  in- 
fill upon  ?  Shall  we  fay,  Remember  thatyou  are  Armenians, 
'Numidians,  or  Dalmuttians?  Wc  are  no  longer  one  body- 
politic,  and  there  lies  the  caufe  of  our  debility.  The  pro- 
je<5tots  of  our  new  fettlement  were  not  aware  that  to 
form  that  coalition,  that  unity  of  interefts,  which  we  call 
our  country,  requiies  the  progreffive  toil  of  ages.,  the  llovr 

and 


EELI5ARIUS.  77 

tmd  imperceptible  working  of  fentiment,  habit,  and 
(opinion.  Our  new  city  was  embellidied  bv  Conrtantine 
with  ftarues  cfRumar.  heroes  ;  but,  alas  !  the  policy  was 
jneffeftual,  tor  the  men  whole  images  we  only  Taw,  lived 
and  breathed  the  flame  of  liberty  in  the  capital !  The 
genius  that  inl'pired  them  did  not  embark  on  board  our 
Jhips  :  we  imported  inanimate  m.arble  only.  Pauius 
EiTiilius,  the  Scipios,  and  the  Catos,  are  filent  here  and 
mute  j  they  are  foreigners  at  Byzantium  j  but  at  Rome 
they  harangued  the  people,  and  the  people  undcrftood  and 
felt  them.' 

*  I  do  not  perceive, ^  faid  Juflinian,  •  but  the  empire, 
Hncethe  feat  of  government  v^^as  removed,  has  enjoyed  a 
truer  ftate  of  peace  and  fecurity  than  it  knt  .v  a:  Rome 
fcr  a  feries  of  years;  The  people  there  had  fallen  into  de- 
generacy, and  the  fenate  funk  deeper  in  fliame  and  fer- 
vitude.' 

*  When  the  adminiftration  is  confided  to  in^.proper 
hands,'  repled  Bcliiarius,  '  the  itrength  and  dignity  of 
every  ftate  will  be  impaired,  and  a  train  of  calamities 
muft  enfue.  At  Rome,  however,  nothing  but  one  good 
reign  was  wanting  to  recal  the  conititution  to  its  firlt 
principles.  Take  a  view  of  Adrian's  adminiftration  :  the 
ftate  ieemed  under  him  to  rile  out  of  its  ruins.  Behold 
Marcus  Aurelius  upon  the  throne ;  to  what  an  height  of 
glory  and  magnificence  was  the  condition  of  the  empire 
raifed  by  the  conduct  of  that  excellent  prince!  Roman 
virtue  has  been  often  eclipfed,  but  not  extinguiined: 
whenever  a  prince  appeared  of  a  genius  to  rekindle  the 
ipirit  of  his  country,  the  latent  fire  was  always  readv  to 
mount  into  a  blaze.  But,  alas  !  every  principle  of  virtue 
is  now  deftroytdj  the  feed  muft  be  lbv»-n  again  j  and  that 
muft  be  the  arduous  talk  of  a  long  reign,  founded  in 
juftice,  moderation, and  wifdom.  Nothing  but  a  prodigy 
of  this  fort  can  redeem  us  in  this  juncture.  Our  very  vic- 
tories may  be  the  ruin  of  the  ftate.  We  have  an  hundred 
enemies  to  cope  wiui,  and  thofe  enemies  b.ave  but  one. 
An  idea  is  conceived  that  they  may  be  all  fubducd^  and 
yet  one  is  nofooner  cruftied,  but  he  rifes  again  j  a  freili 

G  3  foe 


7S  RELISARIUS. 

foe  is  ever  ready  to  find  us  employment,  and  by  a  rapt- 
dity  of  i'uccefiion  they  give  breathing-time  to  each  otber. 
By  this  diveilion  of  our  arms  a  conftant  alarm  is  kept 
up,  and  the  ilate,  thus  diftracted,  grows  feeble  every  dayo 
The  march  ofarmies  to  various  and  dift antplaces  confumes 
our  ftrength  j  the  vigour  of  our  meal'ures  ftrains  every 
nerve,  to  relax  us  more  in  tiie  end  ;  and  every  vicf  ory  is 
a  v^'ound  which  has  no  time  to  dole.  Thus,  after  an  ex- 
ertion of  all  the  powers  of  the  empire  to  maintain  its 
own  importance,  a  fingle  day  fhall  ftiake  it  to  its  foun- 
dation, and  render  the  labour  of  twenty  years  abortive  in 
a  fingle  hour.  Recolleft  how  often,  \mder  the  prefent 
reign,  our  ftandard  has  been  hurried  about  the  world, 
from  the  Tiber  to  the  Euphrates,  and  from  the  Eu- 
phrates to  the  Danube !  And  now  what  is  the  confequence  ? 
what  is  rhe  fruit  of  fo  many  vi6\ories,  under  Mundus, 
Germanicus,  Solomon,  Narfes,  and  myfelf,  if  I  may  be 
added  to  the  number  ?  A  peace  is  all  we  have  obtained  at 
laft.' 

*  And  if  our  victories  exhauft  us,'  faid  the  emperor, 
'  it  is  right  to  bring  things  to  that  concluficn.' 

*  To  "buy  a  peace,'  replied  Beliiarius,  *  is  not  the 
way  to  prevent  the  calamities  of  war.  The  favage  of  ihc 
north  has  nothing  in  view  but  booty  j  and  it  he  is  furc 
of  gaining  ir,  his  motives  to  frequent  excurfions  grow  the 
ftionger.  The  Perfian  need  only  fprcad  an  alarm  every 
year  through  our  faireft  provinces  in  Afia,  and  he  goes 
back  loaded  with  our  money.  A  new  way  of  exterminat- 
ing the  plunderer,  by  holding  forth  the  booty  that  invites 
him  !  The  price  of  peace  becomes  the  principle  of  war  j 
and  our  emperors,  by  exhaufting  their  fubje6fs,  have  pam- 
pered and  inflamed  the  avarice  of  their  enemies.' 

*  You  affc6l  me  deeply,*  faid  Juftinlan  } '  what  bulwark 
would  you  oppofe  to  th^  invahons  of  the  enemy  ? — *  A 
good  army,'  replied  Bellfarius,  *  and  above  all,  a  people 
tree  and  happy.  When  the  barbarians  rufl)  into  our  pro- 
vinces, they  are  attracted  by  the  love  of  plunder  j  and 
though  they  leave  dclblation  and  hatred  behind  them,  yet 
tliejr  purpoie  is  aolwered  if  they  leave  impreflions  of  ter- 
ror 


BELISAR1U3,  79 

ror  alio.  The  cafe  is  different  with  an  empire  that  would 
maintain  its  poircHions  in  lecurity.  It"  it  does  not  endear 
its  goveinmtnr  to  iiianklnd,  it  may  as  well  abdicate  ;  for 
it  is  a  lelf-evident  propofition,  that  all  authority  founded 
on  fear  will  grow  weak,  at  every  remove  from  the  capital, 
till  at  lalt,  fading  by  degrees,  it  is  loll  in  diliance.  To 
rule  by  the  m.edium  of  fear  from  Taurus  to  the  Alps,  and 
from  Caucafus  to  the  foot  of  i\tlas,  as  an  imporHbility  in 
politics.  If  the  fubjc6l  groans  under  the  weight  ot  his 
grievances,  and  power  fupports  itfelf  by  the  fweat  of  the 
brow,  of  what  moment  is  it  to  him,  whether  Romans  or 
Perfians  are  his  opprefTors  ?  The  authority  that  burdens 
us  will  never  be  well  defended  ;  and  the  nation  that  has 
not  fpirit  torenft  opprefTion,  v/ill  crouch  with  tame  acqui- 
efcence  under  the  firlt  deliverer  that  appears.  Would  vou 
give  If  ability  to  government  ?  lav  your  foundation  in  the 
affe6fions  of  mankind  ;  and  the  aftecfions  of  mankind  are 
ever  attached  to  the  principles  of  humanity,  of  beneh- 
cence,  integrity,  public  faith,  and  zeal  for  the  happinefs 
of  millions.  Thofe  are  the  virtues  that  command  a  wiU 
img  people.  The  fpirit  of  the  conftitution  is  then  dif - 
fufed  over  the  whole  dominion,  alive  and  acfive  in  each 
diftant  part ;  the  people  are  all  as  one  hand  and  one  heart, 
and  every  province  is  the  feat  of  government. 

I  fliall  have  frequent  occahon  to  allude  to  myfelf,'  con- 
tinued Belifarius  ;  '  and  my  worthy  young  man,'  faid  he 
to  Tiberius,  '  by  appealing  to  my  experience  you  have 
made  all  apology  for  tgotifm  unnecefTary.  When  I  had 
the  condufl  of  the  war  in  Africa,  I  confidered  thofe  re- 
gions as  part  of  my  native  country.  The  regular  and 
ftri6l  difclpHne  which  I  ellablifhed  throughout  my  army 
procured  the  good  will  of  mankind,  and  attra6led  plenty 
from  every  quarter.  In  a  little  time  I  had  the  latisfac- 
tion  of  feeing  my  camp  reforted  to  as  a  faniSf  uary  by  every 
various  people,  who  crowded  to  my  (landard  and  lilted 
under  me.  The  day  which  faw  me  enter  Carthage  at 
the  head  of  avi5lorlousanriy,  did  not  heir  a  fnigle  groan  ^ 
neither  the  quiet  nor  the  ufualemploymentsof  the  citizens 
fuff^redonthe  occafion -,  induftry  and  sommerce  puriiied 

tiieir 


ti  EELISARlilS. 

their  intercft!?,  as  if  it  had  been  a  time  of  profound  peace  j 
and,  in  return  for  this  benefit,  felr  by  aJl  orders  of  men^ 
it  was  in  my  power  to  become  the  king  of  a  people  who 
called  me  their  common  father.  The  fame  happened  to 
me  in  Italv  :  there  the  native  inhabitants  gathered  about 
me  in  crowds,  refigning  themfelves  to  the  em.pire  ;  and  at 
Ravenna  I  received  the  fupplications  of  the  Goths,  im- 
ploring their  conqueror  to  be  their  fovereign.  Behold 
here  the  influence,  the  empire  of  humanity.  Do  not  fuf- 
pe6l  that  I  am  here  m.y  own  panegyrift  ;  all  my  merit 
confiiled  in  following  the  leflbns  the  very  barbarians  gave 
me.  Yes,  even  the  barbarians  can  boalt  their  Titus  and 
their  Marcus  Aurelius,  Thodoric  and  Totila  deferved 
the  love  of  hunran  kind.  Ye  ci:ies  of  Italy  V  exclaimed 
Belifariusi  '  what  a  contraft  have  you  feen  between  us  and 
the  barbarians  !  At  Naples,  in  particular,  my  eyes  be- 
held men,  women,  and  children,  flaughtered  in  one  com- 
mon carnage.  I  flew  to  their  afTiftance  :  I  fnatched  thi; 
unhappy,  the  innocent  viftims  from  the  fury  of  an  incenf- 
ed  fbldiery  :  but  I  was  fmgle  in  oppoficion  to  them,  and 
my  entreaties  were  loft  in  air  ;  the  men  whofe  duty  it  was 
to  fecond  me  were  intent  on  plunder*  The  fame  place  was 
reduced  by  the  generous  Totila.  Thrice  happy  prince  ! 
he  had  the  glory  of  faving  it  from  the  ravage  of  his  troops i 
His  deportment  was  that  of  a  tender  father  in  the  midit 
of  his  taiiiiiy.  Humanity  cannot  difplay  a  fcene  more 
truly  pathetic  than  this  generous  prince  exerting  his  bell: 
offices  for  the  proteft ion  of  a  people  that  furrendered  to 
his  arms.  It  was  the  fame  at  Rome  j  that  very  Rcn.e 
wjiich  law  the  officers  of  the  empire,  in  the  midft  of  all 
the  horrors  of  a  famine,  carrying  en  the  deteftable  trade 
of  a  monopoly.  It  was  in  this  manner  our  enemies  con- 
ciliated the  atiefiions  of  mankind.  Theirjuftice  and  mo- 
deration hurt  us  m.ore  than  their  valour* 

*Hov/,  on  cur  part,  did  we  counteract  their  virtue?  In 
no  fhape  whatever  :  the  injiumanity,  the  avarice,  and  ty- 
ranriy  of  our  commanders  leagued  with  the  enemy,  and 
ferved  their  caule.  I  had  no  locner  refigned  the  command 
in  Italy,  than  the  fame  Goths,  whofe  proffered  crown  I 

liaU 


EELISARIUS.  gf 

liad  juft  refufed,  with  one  general  confent,  'A-iili  a  kind  of 
tpidemic  Ipirit,  kindled  to  indignation  by  the  malverfa- 
tion  of  thole  who  fucceeded  me,  relbived  at  once  to  lliake 
oft'  the  yoke.  Hence  the  reign  of  Totila,  and  all  themif- 
fortunes  of  Italy.  When  I  had  fubdued  the  Vandals,  it 
was  my  ambition  to  J'ettle  termsof  amity  between  tht  em- 
pire and  the  Moors  j  and  I  thought  I  had  fuccetdtd  to 
my  fatisfacfion  :  Imt  niyback  was  J'carcely  turned,  when 
cur  honourable  plunderers,  our  chiefs,  wiio  made  war  a 
gainful  trade,  our  illulfrious  fons  of  riot  and  rapacity,  in- 
iVinged  eveiy  treaty  I  had  made,  and  let  looie  the  moft 
horrible  violence  to  pillage  their  cities  and  deiulate  their 
iields.  By  del'peration  the  Moors  were  foon  rouled  to 
vengeance,  and  our  provinces  were  deluged  with  bkod. 
From  opprefTion  fpiung  revolt,  and  all  the  bands  of  peace 
were  rent  afunder. 

*  From  the  fame  caufes  in  the  heart  of  the  empire  trie 
fame  effects  have  been  produced.  Imbecility  in  miniftti  i, 
avarice  in  pro-confuls,  inhumanity  and  deipotiiiii  in  the 
governors  of  cities  and  of  provinces  j  theie  are  the  enor- 
mities which  I  have  feen  in  every  quarter.  To  thefe  it 
is  owing  that  every  department  of  government  is  now  be- 
come an  intolerable  charge  to  the  people.  In  order  to 
enforce  a  paflive  obedience  under  the  burthen,  reccurie  is 
had  to  meafures  ot  the  mtll  grievous  nature  :  the  militia 
has  been  aboliftied,  and  the  fubje6l  has  been  excluded  from 
the  facerdotal  order  J  nay,  the  right  of  alienating  their 
property  has  been  wrefted  from  them  ;  and,  to  crown  the 
whole  with  what  will  fcarcely  be  believed,  they  are  de- 
prived of  the  miferable  liberty  of  becoming  bondmen. — 
Can  it  be  expected  that,  harrailed  thus  cruelly,  the  peo- 
ple will  be  reconciled  to  the  yoke  that  gai'.s  them  ?  Can 
there  exift  in  their  idea  any  ties  of  interelt,  or  of  duty,  be- 
tv/een  them  and  their  opprtffors  r  The  burlf  of  every 
groan  that  delpair  and  milery  extort  is  inllantly  proclaim- 
ed treaibnj  and  armies  are  marched  to  carry  fire  and 
fword  through  the  provinces— a  new  and  cruel  way  ot  re- 
ducing mankind  to  obedience  by  their  total  ruin  !  Arid 
then,  of  what  ufe  are  fiibjects  thus  reduced,  and  broken- 
hearted 


Si  BFLISARltJS, 

hearted  Under  aload  ofgrievances  ?  A  wellgoveniedpeol 
pie  fhoiild  be  at  once  both  Ipirited  and  complying :  and 
both  thele  qualities  would  unite,  were  they  not  prevented 
by  the  piitle  and  arrogance  of  little  tyrants,  who  too  Toon 
inade  the  reign  of  a  well  difpoied  prince  ah  odious  fvilcm 
of  cruelty  and  arbitrary  power. 

It  is  upon  minifters,  and  all  the  little  fubftitutes  of  au- 
thority, that  a  Ibvereign  mull  depend  for  the  love  or  the 
hatred  ot  mankind.  He  ought  therefore  to  watch  them 
with  a  careful  and  a  jealous  eye.  They  are  too  often  the 
moil  cruel  enemies  he  has  ;  for  of  all  the  evils  that  can 
attend  a  prince,  the  averfion  of  his  people  is  the  word, 
and  yet  that  is  brought  upcnhim  by  his  officers  of  ftate. 
Whatever  they  dare  for  the  gratification  of  Ipleen,  pridej 
avarice,  and  their  mean  capricious  palTions,  it  is  ail,  in 
minilierial  language,  the  direflicn  of  the  ibvereign  5  it  is 
for  the  fupport  of  government.  Though  they  are  the 
planners  of  every  pernicious  projedl:,  yet,  in  carrying  it 
into  execution,  they  are,  if  you  will  believe  them,  but 
fervants  of  the  crown  ;  and  thus  the  prince  is  made  the 
involuntary  unconicious  fcourge  of  a  people  he  loves. — 
My  dear  Tiberius,'  continued  the  hero,  '  if  ever  your 
royal  mafter  has  the  happiiiels  of  embracing  you  as  hrs 
friend,  let  it  be  your  advice  never  to  flacken  the  reins  of 
authority,  that  all  who  are  under  it  may  feel  the  curb  of 
juftice.  Every  a6l  of  petty  tyranny  committed  in  the 
name  of  the  prince,  is  fure  to  fully  the  lullreof  his  crown 
with  the  tears  of  the  affli^led.  An  evil  adminillratlon 
is  a  libel  upon  the  chara6ler  of  the  fovereign.  But  when 
iniquity  is  controlled,  when  corruption  is  checked,  ami  the 
grievances  of  the  fubje6l  redrefled  by  a  patriot  prince,  the 
complaints  of  injured  men  will  indeed  be  addrefTed  to  the 
throne,  but  no  murmurings  againfl  it  will  ever  be  heard. 
The  indignation  of  the  fubjc6l  will  be  pointed  at  its  pro- 
per objedls  ;  i;:  will  purfue  the  authors  of  public  milchief, 
while  the  good  and  upright  fovereign  Hill  poffefles  theaf- 
fe6lions  of  a  grateful  people.' 

*  There  is  nothing,'  interpofed  Juftlnian,  '  more  beau- 
tiful in  theory,  than  a  prince  attending  to  the  movements 


BELISARIUS.  35 

•f  every  minute  wheel  in  the  great  machine  of  govern- 
ment. Bat  the  obje6ls  are  too  complicated,  and  he  would 
be  dillra(5ied  by  the  multiplicity  of  views.  To  hear  the 
complaints  of  the  fubje6l,  and  to  examine  things  to  the 
bottom,  fo  as  to  decide  in  allcales  with  jultice  and  mode- 
ration, would  indeed  be  an  illuftrious  tafk,  but  it  is  greatly 
above  the  powers  or"  any  prince  whatever.' 

*  Thofe  are  the  phantoms  of  difficulty,'  replied  Beli- 
farius,  <  that  are  conjured  up  to  deter  him  trom  the  tafk- 
but  thofe  phantoms,  when  examined  v/ith  a  iteadfall  eye, 
di'fcover  themlclvcs  to  be  mere  mockery,  and  they  vanifh. 
The  art  of  governing,  we  fliall  fee  to  morrow,  is  by  no 
means  ib  complicated  as  politic  men  would  make  us  be- 
lieve. Farewel,  my  friends.  You  fee  how,  of  my  own 
accord,  I  now  engage  myfelf  more  deeply  in  this  difcuf- 
fion  than  I  at  firll  intended.  To  rule  ideal  kingdoms  is 
a  kind  of  caltle- building  which  the  imagination  of  man 
is  fond  of  indulging  }  and  there  are  few,  I  believe,  who  in 
their  vilionary  reign,  and  their  dreams  of  power,  do  not, 
like  myfelf,  think  themfclves  capable  of  regulating  the 
late  of  empires.'' — '  Political  tiieories,'    faid  Juitinian, 

*  are  often  the  delirious  chimeras  of  the  vulgar,  but  they 
are  at  the  fame  time  the  noble  fpcculations  of  the  fage 
and  the  philofopher.' 

The  emperor  withdrew  deeply  imprefl'ed  with  the  re- 
flections and  the  reafonings  he  had  heard.  That  very 
night,  at  fupper,  it  was  obiervcd  by  the  courtiers  that  the 
ft;-te  never  knew  a  better  or  more  fiouriniing  condition. 

*  Without  doubt,'  faid  Juitinian,  addreffing  himlelfto 
the  flattering  train,  *  the  empire  mull  be  in  a  flourifhing 
wav,  tor  you  riot  in  abundance :  it  mull  be  happy  alfo, 
for  you  are  dilfolved  in  eafe  and  luxury.  The  people,  in 
your  eltimate,  pafs  tor  a  mere  cypher,  and  the  court  with 
you  is  deemed  the  empire.'  At  thefe  words  they  all  look- 
ed down  diicountenanced.  The  remark  of  the  emperor 
was  thought  to  proceed  from  that  Ipleen  which  had  of 
late  overcalf  his  mind,  and  which,  they  all  agreed,  was 
entirely  occaiioned  by  his  late  conferences  with  Tiberius, 

*  Tiberius,'  faid  they,  *  is  a  young  zealot,  v/hole  ima- 


?4  BELISAR!T?S. 

ginationis  overheated  with  the  enthuhafm  of  vhtue  and 
popular  humanity.  A  man  of  that  character  is  alwayt 
dangerous  at  court  j  he  mult  be  removed  from  the  em- 
peror's prefence,' 

CHAP.  XII. 

THE  next  day,  while  the  new  intrigue  at  court  \va» 
hatching  its  defigns,  the  bjind  old  hero  and  his  two 
gucfts  relumed  the  thread  of  their  difcourfe. 

*  The  fovercign/  faid  Belifaiius,  '  who  means  to  be 
a  real,  and  not  a  nominal  prince,  ought  to  know  how  to 
reduce  things  to  their  moll  fimple  principles.  His  iirft 
care  fhouldbe  to  inform  himfelt  otthe  true  intereftsof  his 
people,  and  the  conduct  they  expefl  lie  (hould  obferve.* 
— '  That  alone,'  faid  Tiberius,  *  is  a  large  field  of  con- 
templat^ion.'— -'  But  it  is  not  a  perplexed  contemplation,' 
faid  Beli^arius  ;  '  nothing  can  be  m.ore  hmple  ;  for  the 
wants  of  an  individual  aie  the  wants  of  all,  and  each  of 
us  knows  intuitively  what  is  good  and  fit  for  the  wholt 
human  fpecies.  As,. for  inllance,'  faid  he  to  the  young 
man,  *  if  it  were  your  lot  to  be  employed  in  the  labour* 
of  huibandr)',  what  would  you  expe^V  from  the  benevo- 
lence of  your  fovereign?* — '  I  fhould  expect,'  anlwered 
Tiberius,  *  fecurity  for  the  fruits  of  my  indultry,  and 
an  unmoleded  right,  after  the  duties  of  the  crown  were 
paid,  to  enjoy  my  gettings  with  my  wite  and  children. 
I  fhould  defire  to  be  protefled  in  my  property  againft 
fraud  and  rapine,  and  to  fee  myl'elf  and  my  family  fafe 
from  violence,  injuRice,  and  oppreflion.'' — '  Very  well !' 
replied  Belifariuo  i  *  in  that  confifts  the  whole  :  every  ci- 
tizen, according  to  his  diftin6tive  rank,  requires  the  fame, 
and  nothing  more.  Now  the  prince,  on  his  part,'  con- 
tinued Belifarius,  *  what  does  he  demand  of  his  fub- 
je6ls  r — '  Obedience  to  his  laws,  necellary  fupplies,  and 
a  proper  force  to  fuppoit  his  own  dignity,  and  the  au- 
thority of  government/ — *  That  again  is  fimple  andjull,' 
faid  Belifarius.  *  With  regard  now  to  the  people,  in 
their  relation  to  one  another,  v/hat  arc  their  reciprocal 
duties  r' — '  To  live  in  peace  and  harmony,  to  injure  no 

man. 


BELISAR1U5.  t^ 

man,  to  teave  to  every  one  the  quiet  pofTeflion  of  his  own, 
and  in  all  traniaJtioiis  to  prefervc  an  honeft  intercourie 
and  good  taith.' — '  In  that  itate  of  the  cafe,  my  worthy 
friend,'  faid  Belifai-ius,  *  we  have  an  epitome  of  human 
happinefs  ;  for  that  end  you  fee  that  law  has  no  need  to 
be  voluminous.  Twelve  tables,  at  one  time,  con^prifed 
the  laws  of  Rome  j  and  that  time  was  at  leaft  as  eligible 
as  the  prefent.  What  we  call  juft,  is  the  balance  of 
what  is  ufeful,  and  the  liqui  iation  of  what  is  coming  to 
each  individual  from  the  aggregate  of  public  good.  Let 
equity  adjult  this  account,  and  the  code  which  directs  it 
jieed  not  he  long,  ^at  equity  is  now  embroiled  with 
complications  that  have  Iwelled  to  an  unweildy  fize. 
This  milchief  is  owing  to  the  capricious  detail  of  an  ar- 
bitrary dilpoiition,  winch  fets  up  its  own  caprice  in  the 
place  of  law,  and  then  makes  the  law  as  vague  and  un- 
certain as  that  very  caprice  itfelf :  it  is  owing  to  a  poor 
pufdlanimity,  that  with  folicitude  is  ever  inventing  new 
Ihares  to  entangle  civil  liberty  ;  it  is  owing  to  the  pride 
and  jealouiy  ot-  power,  which  never  thinks  it  can  make 
its  weight  fufficiently  felt  j  and,  in  fliort,  it  is  owing  to 
a  vaindefireof  fuperintendlng  a  multiplicity  ofrainutt  ob- 
jects, which  would  all  work  the'.r.felves  clear,  and  be 
properly  adjufted,  without  any  luchfuperintendance.  A 
digtft  has  been  made  in  the  prclent  reign  of  edi6ts  and 
decrees  with  out  number  5  but,  after  all,  it  is  the  fchool 
for  lawyers,  and  not  for  the  people;  whereas  it  is  the 
people  who  ought  to  be  inftrufled  in  their  duties  and 
their  rights.  Every  citizen  ought,  in  the  firft  inltance, 
to  be  his  own  judge  :  it  is  fit,  therefore,  that  every  citi- 
scn  fliould  know  difxhicily  and  with  precifion  what  is 
preicribed,  iorbid,  and  permitted  by  tlie  law.  To  this 
end  tiiere  need  only  be  a  few  good  laws,  fimple,  clear, 
frnfibie,  and  eafy  in  their  application  to  the  actions  of 
men.  Tiiis  would  facilitate  the  adminillration  of  juftice, 
and  abridge  the  detail  of  fubtihies  that  now  entangle  it. 
For,  when  the  rigiits  and  the  duties  annexed  to  civil  con- 
duct are  univerfally  felt  and  underltood,  the  fubjefl 
exults  in  his  lecurity,  aivd  acquiefces  in  fubordination: 
H  he 


80  EELISARIUS. 

he  perceives  the  afcertalned  degree  of  political  llbertv, 
which  he  gains  in  return  tor  the  refignation  ot"  his  natu- 
ral privileges  to  the  authority  of  the  itate  j  and,  finding 
his  own  private  advantage  in  the  public  lafety,  he  learns 
to  reverence  the  wifdom  of  that  inltitution  which  has 
united  both  in  fo  beautiful  a  connexion.  I  would  a(k  to 
what  reaibn  is  it  to  be  aOigned  that  tlie  fubjeft  is  lb  of- 
ten refraclory  to  the  authority  of  government  ?  It  is 
becaufe  the  laws,  which  limit  and  abridge  the  liberty  of 
the  people,  are  ever  expounded  with  rigour ;  while,  on. 
the  other  hand,  thole  which  favour  natural  freedom  re- 
ceive too  often  a  negligent,  «i  temporizing  conrtru6lIon. 
But  this  abufe  would  be  etfc^lu.iUy  remedied  by  the  fair 
fimplicity  of  a  popular  code,  or  a  fyllem  adapted  to  the 
capacity  of  the  whole  community  ;  from  whence  it  would 
refult,  that  the  judges,  obferving  mankind  fufHciently 
inftru6fed  in  the  rules  of  right,  nay,  in  a  capacity  to  ap- 
peal from  them  to  a  known,  precife,  and  determinate 
law,  would  be  upon  th;ir  guaid  not  to  make  it  comply 
with  occafions,  or  to  vary  the  fpirit  of  it  ac:crding  to 
their  own  difcretion.' 

*  Oi  laws,  which  are  defigned  to  intrench  upon  the 
rights  of  the  fubjcit,  thofe  that  taiten  upon  property  are 
the  worit,  and  molt  liable  to  abule.  They  are  not  in- 
deed levelled  at  the  lives  and  liberties  of  the  people  ;  but 
the  hands  of  the  people  are  never  tied  up  but  witn  an  in- 
tention to  plunder  them.  Of  the  cxcelTis,  moreover, 
committed  by  the  officers  of  the  revenue,  there  is  fcarce- 
ly  ever  one  that  does  not  involve  in  it  the  crime  of  ava- 
rice. This  then  is  the  fiilt  objc6t;  to  which  the  fove- 
reign's  eye  flioukl  be  directed  ;  it  Ihould  be  his  nrll  care 
to  ell::iblini  the  colle6fion  of  his  taxes  upon  tne  clearell 
and  uioll  intelligible  lyltem.  Wiule  impoils  are  mul- 
tiplied, and  the  laws  that  cftablifli  the  taxation  continue 
vague,  complex,  and  uncertain,  the  adminillration  of 
this  whole  department  will  ever  be  captious,  fraudulent, 
and  opprtllive.  Thefe  laws,  therefore,  mull  be  render- 
ed as  iimple  as  poUlble  j  they  mult  be  penned  with  accu- 
jracy  and  precifiun  j  and  the  tax  itltlf,  that  indil'penfil-ile 

dtmaiul 


SELISARIUS.  %7 

demand  of  government,  ihould  be  fqiial,  cafy,  and 
fouiideil  in  the  firrcib  or  things  :  it  ftiouid  be  one  general 
impoll,  though  varied  in  ifs  application  to  lundry  wile 
anu  good  purpoies  j  and,  finally,  it  lliould  be  uniform 
throughout  the  realm,  like  the  tribute  or  tythe  which 
Sicily  paid  with  pL-afure  to  the  Ron.ans,  or  like  that 
which  was  levied  in  Afsa,  in  proportion  to  the  annual 
incrcafe  or  lofs,  and  gained  for  C?;iar,  the  author  oi  it, 
the  atfcdions  of  mankind.  Were  the  finances  thus  re- 
gulated, fraud  would  not  be  able  to  intrench  itlelt  in  the 
labyrinths  ot  law,  and  the  *  ablurdity  of  edi6\s  :  but  the 
right  eftabll/hed  upon  clear  and  fimple  principles,  would 
carry  the  cleaielt  evidence  of  truth  along  with  it,  and 
that  truth  woiiid  diaw  the  line  to  circumfcribe  the  power 
of  the  otScers.  Thus  the  laws  of  taxation,  by  ceafing 
to  be  arbitrary,  would  ceafe  to  be  deteftable.' 

*  You  are  av/are,'  faid  the  emperor,  *  of  the  reafon- 
ing  that  encounters  thel'e  principlts  :  make  taxation  fim- 
ple, and  you  reduce  it  at  the  fame  time.'—'  I  wilh  to  do 
fc/  replied  Beliiarius.-— '  But,'  refumed  Juftinian,'  if  the 
people  are  left  too  much  at  eafe,  by  a  national  confe- 
quence  they  grow  lazy,  arrogant,  rebellious,  and  untra6f- 
able/ — '  Gracious  heaven!'  exclaimed  Belifarius  ;  '  will 
afiining  to  men  the  fruits  of  their  labour  give  them  an 
avcrfion  from  their  indullry  ?  Will  men  become  rebels, 
becaufe  their  happineis  is  fecured  and  promoted  ?  But 
the  fear  is,  that  they  will  prove  arrogant!  Alas!  I 
know  that  little  tyrants  would  be  glad  to  fee  them  crouch 
like  flaves  under  the  malfer's  lafh.  But  I  would  defire 
to  know,  to  whom  fliould  the  lubje6"t  bend,  while  his 
condufl  is  free  from  reproach  or  guilt  ?  There  is  no 
power  on  earth  but  that  of  the  laws  and  of  the  legal  fo- 
vereign,  to  which  an  honeft  member  of  fociety  owes  any 
deference.     I  would  afk,  further,  will  ufurpation  be  as 

*  The  emperor  laid  a  duty  upon  urine,  duft,  ordure,  dead  bo- 
dies, fmoik,  air,  &c.  There  were  rights  of  the  turf,  the  high- 
way, fnora^,  duties  upon  carriages,  beafts  of  burthen,  &-c.  et 
quae  alia  (fays  Tacitus)  exaftionibus  iliicities  nomina  publicanj 
invcnerunc.     BulLng.     De  tribut.  ac  vedlig.  P.  R.  f«Te 

H    3 


SS  1?ELISAPvlU5. 

(ore  of  having  obedience  paid  to  it,  as  v/Ul  that  miW  aii- 
"hoi  ity  wiiich  creates  for  itfeif  a  kind  of  a  patermi  em^ 
pireover  the  hearts  of  men,  by  works  of  benefictince,  and 
by  generous  deeds  that  call  for  grcAtitude,  affedlion,  and 
elieeni  ?  Believe  me,  I  know  the  chara6ier  ot  the  people  ? 
they  are  not  what  they  are  reprefented.  Are  they  dil- 
piiiteil.  Day,  difalTe^led  ?  It  is  owing  to  their  grievan- 
ces. Is  their  temper  foured  ?  and  are  they  gjown  re- 
lucfant  to  command  ?  It  is  becauie  they  find  tiiemielvts 
tor  ever  acquiring,  and  never  lure  of  poilcirmg.  In  ibbtr 
ladnefs  this  is  the  truth:  but  it  is  dii(:oloured  with  ait  ; 
dehgning  men  dogmatize  on  the  lubjciSl,  and  they  endea- 
vour to  give  their  faIieh;.od  the  air  and  lauiSlion,  of  ap- 
pearing lyftematical.  The  principle  upon  which  they 
ground  thcmlelves  is,  that  the  nice  of  man  lives  in  iub- 
lervieucy  to  a  very  fmall  part  of  the  fpecies,  and  that  the 
v»orId  was  made  for  the  ui'e  of  thtm.felves  and  a  few  lead- 
ing men.' — *  It  is  <'m  inconceivable  pride,'  laid  Jnltmi- 
an,  *  and  yet  a  pride  too  ccm.mon  to  the  human  mind.* 
— *  Not  fo  common  as  you  imagine,'  replied  Bshfarius} 
•  we  hear  it  indeed  often,  but  it  is  from  men  who  are 
ailing  a  part ;  it  is  a  lort  of  paradox  in  politics  that  ne« 
ver  had  one  fincere  believer.  I  will  venture  to  fay,  there 
never  yet  exilted  a  perlbn  of  common  fenle,  howcw^r  emi- 
nent in  his  (lation,  v;ho,  upon  a  comparative  view  of 
himfclf  and  the  people,  who  fupport,  who  nourilh,  and 
ciefend  him,  did  not  fnrink  back  with  humility  intohim- 
felf  5  for  he  feels  his  imbecility,  his  necefuties,  and  his 
fiate  of  dependence.  His  pride  is  a  malk,  ameie  alTum- 
ed  chai-a6fer  J  but  the  milchief  is,  he  is  lb  praftifed  in 
the  character,  that  he  has  learned  to  play  it  well,  and  to 
impofe  upon  his  audience.  May  heaven  prelerve  your 
royal  friend,  my  worthy  Tiberius,  from  this  fatal  illu- 
sion !  That  he  may  be  effedually  preferved  h\m  it,  di- 
ie6l  his  attention  to  the  early  pciiocls  and  primitive  con- 
dition of  civil  Ibcicty  :  he  will  then  obferve  three  clafles 
of  men,  each  fubfilting  in  a  ftate  of  reciprocal  aid  and 
dependence  :  the  hulbandman,  in  the  firit  place,  employed 
in  the  cultivation  of  the  earth  for  the  fupport  of  lilej  the 

artificer 


CEtlSAR!U3.  ?«^ 

artificer,  feconclly,  whole  occupation  it  was  to  give  tc» 
the  materials  of  the  earth  their  relative  forms  and  fit- 
nefs  for  ufe  j  and  thirdly,  t'ne  ftatefman  or  able  politi- 
cian, who  coniecrated  himfelf  to  the  arts  of  government 
for  the  good  order  and  well  being  of  fociety.  In  this 
federal  union  not  one  of  the  parties  is  ufelcis  or  Inactive : 
the  advantage  of  mutual  fuccour  is  circulated  in  full  ex- 
ertion through  all  the  members,  according  to  the  power 
of  each  ;  and  thus  bodily  force,  hbour,  and  induilry,  in- 
telieclual  ability,  the  faculties  of  the  mind,  fuptricr  ta- 
lents, and  eminent  virtues,  all  conTpIre  and  acl  in  con- 
cert for  the  general  good.  This  order  of  things,  fimple, 
natural,  and  regular  as  it  may  appear,  is  the  tiue  ana- 
lyfis  of  government  :  thefe  are  the  original  forms  into 
which  political  oeconomy  muft  refolve  itfelf :  thefe  the 
iirlf  principles  to  which  it  is  reducible. 

You  cannot  but  obferve  what  an  outrage  it  would  be 
againlf  all  good  fenfe  and  order,  if  any  one  of  thefe  clafles 
fhould  revolt  againft  the  others  :  you  mull  fee  that  they 
are  all  equally  dependant,  and  equally  conducive  to 
each  other  j  and  that  if  a  preference  can  be  afcribed  to 
any  one  in  particular,  it  muil  be  to  thehufbandman,  in- 
afmuch  as  the  fupport  of  life  is  the  firll  great  principle 
and  dcfire  of  nature  ;  the  art,  therefore,  that  nourifhes 
man  muft  be  the  firft  of  arts.  But  as  this  art  accom- 
plifhes  its  end  by  methods  eafy  and  fure  !  as  it  is  expofed 
to  no  danger,  and  acquires  an  exertion  of  the  moil  com- 
mon and  ordinary  powers,  it  is  right  that  the  more  deli- 
cate arts,  which  demand  talents,  virtues,  and  the  moft 
refined  acquirements,  fliould  meet  with  the  higheft  en- 
couragement. For  this  reafon,  therefoie,  the  arts  that 
adminlfter  to  the  firft  wants  of  life  will  not  be  held  in 
the  greatelf  cftimatlon,  and  indeed  they  do  not  afpire  to 
it.  But  inaimuch  as  it  would  be  impolitic,  on  the  one 
hand,  to  over-rate  them,  fo  it  would  be  unjult  on  the 
other,  and  repugnant  to  the  interefts  of  humanity,  to  de- 
grade them  into  contempt.' 

*  Let   your  friend,  my  good   Tiberius,    be  upon  his 
guard  againll  the  approaches  of  th's  ilupid  difUain  :  on 
H   7  '  the 


90  UELISAMUS. 

the  conti-ary,  it  will  behove  him  to  cherlih,  as  the  niufe 
of  himlelf  and  of  human  kind,  this  too  much  dejpiicd, 
though  excellent  and  beneficial  branch  of  induliry.  It  is 
juft,  in  the  arrangement  of  things,  that  the  people  fhould 
labour  for  the  two  other  clafles  of  fcciety,  which  co-ope- 
rate with  them  for  the  good  of  the  whole,  and  contji- 
bute  largely  to  the  fupport  of  that  power  which  form.s 
the  defence  of  the  community.  The  earth  was  ordained 
to  fupply  the  nurture  of  man,  and  to  thofe  who  increalc 
its  fertility  the  firft  maintenance  is  due  :  this  is  juftice  to 
the  hulbandman :  and  the  Itate,  in  rating  him  to  the 
charges  of  government,  mull  be  *  careful  to  lay  the  tax 
upon  his  redundancies  only.  If  the  fole  recompenfe  of 
hard  and  unremitting  labour  were  no  moi-e  than  the  mere 
privilege  cf  leading  an  undefirable  and  wretched  life, 
the  cultivators  of  the  earth  could  no  longer  be  deemed  a 
part  of  the  political  affociation,  but  would  remain  in  a 
ftate  of  flavery ;  their  condition  would  be  intolerable  ; 
they  would  rufli  from  their  rank,  turn  order  into  anar- 
chy, or  elfe  put  a  ftop  to  the  propagation  of  fo  many 
mifcrable  beings,  and  lb  annihilate  tlie  rank  itfelf.' 

*  It  muft  be  allowed,'  faid  JuiHnian,  *  that  they  ai'C 
too  much  deurelfed  :  but  happily  little  is  wanting  to  that 
race  of  m.en,  inured  as  they  are  to  penury  and  labour ! 
Beyond  the  excitement  of  appetite  and  the  flrlf  wants  of 
nature  their  ambition  never  arifes ;  let  them  have  bread, 
and  they  have  content  along  with  it,' 

*  To  fay  the  truth,  my  good  nelgiibour,'  replied  Bell- 
farius,  *  one  would  imagine  that  you  had  lived  your 
days  in  courts,  for  you  are  mafter  of  the  language.  What 
you  have  now  advanced  rmgs  for  ever  in  tlie  ear  of  a 
prince,  that  he  may  be  the  more  readily  induced  to  pil- 
lage his  people,  and  that  he  may  do  it  without  remorfe. 
The  people,  it  is  true,  have  not  the  inordinate  wants 
v.'hicli  luxury  has  created  in  the  higher  ranks  of  life,  and 
therefore  they  are  more  likely  to  h^  reafonable  in  their 
complaints  and  their  demands.     The  more  frugal  and 

*  This  wjs  the  tnaxim  ef  Hcnvy  IV.  ef  Frjiite  j  awi  of  tii 
^od  kius=.  r^yj'i-A 


*ELISAR1U5.  rjt 

•r.cdeft  their  way  of  lire,  the  more  fober  and  temperate 
their  manners,  tiie  ftronger  is  the  prefiimption  that,  when 
they  remonftrate  their  grievances,  thty  do  it  v^ith  fiitfi- 
cient  provocation.  In  the  court  diclionary,  to  want  the 
EeccfUuies  of  lite  implies  the  want  of  ability  to  maintain 
twenty  uielers  hcrfes,  and  as  many  idle  drones  in  livery  : 
in  the  honeft  meaning  of  the  fimple  hufbandman,  it  is  to 
want  wherewithal  to  nouri/li  a  poor  old  father  bending 
imder  years  and  infirmities,  to  rear  a  little  race  of  in- 
fants whole  feeble  arms  are  yet  unfit  for  work,  and  to 
comfort  a  virtuous  wife  who  is  either  breeding  or  nurling 
a  new  fubjeft  of  the  ftate  ;  it  is,  in  plain  lural  language, 
to  want  thefe  things,  and  to  want,  befides,  the  pro- 
per feeds  to  depofit  in  the  ground,  a  well-ftorcd  granary 
againft  an  hard  fealbn  in  a  year  of  fcarcity,  and  in  age 
and  in  ficknefs  the  comforts  and  the  fuccours  which  weary 
rature  has  occafion  for.  Oil !  m.y  friends,  is  it  not 
nanifelf  that  the  fruits  of  agriculture  are  deftined  in  the 
firft  place,  and  of  juflicedue,  to  thofc  who  labour  to  make 
the  earth  more  produ^f  ive  r  The  dcftination  is  holy,  and 
iliould  be  kept  more  facred  and  inviolable  than  all  the 
treafure  in  tlie  depofitories  of  Janus.' 

*  Alas!'  faid  the  emperor,  -  they  are  times  of  public 
calamity,  when  government  may  exert  a  difpenfing  power, 
and  ftate-necedity  is  then  the  law  which  im.pcfes  new 
burthens  and  taxes  on  the  people.' 

*  It  iliouldbe  a  cafe  of  the  laft  extremity  Indeed,''  replied 
Bellfarius  j  «  every  fuperfluity  (liouid  be  firft  brought 
into  the  common  ilcck,  all  refources  Ihould  be  exhaufted, 
and  no  way  left  of  faving  the  ftate  but  by  the  ruin  of  the 
people.  That  ftate-neceffity  I  am  a  ftranger  to  :  the 
occafion  for  that  diipenfmg  power  I  have  never  feen*. 
But  to  reprefent  things  in  their  true  point  of  light  j  do 
you  knov/  where  the  mifchif  lies  that  makes  the  honeft 

♦  Marcus  Aurcllus,  in  a  prefling  exige::ce,  rather  than  over- 
load the  people  vs'ith  new  taxes,  fold  the  furniture  of  the  imperial 
palace.  Vafa  aurca,  uxorium  ac  fuam  Icricnm  et  auream  veftura 
multaormciira  gemiTiar'.sm  J  ac  ptx  duoa  conies  venditio  habits 
eft^.    AureL  Y\<k..  iwlbsndncaa 


9*  EELISARIUS. 

hulbandiTian  groan  in  mllery  ?  It  refts  with  that  fuperiof 
clals,  as  it  is  called,  who  pals  away  the  hours  in  idJe- 
nel's  and  not  :  by  them  the  whole  burthen  is  thrown  up- 
on honeft  indullry.  They  reap  ahnolt  all  the  advanta- 
ges of  the  civil  union,  and  yet  contribute  the  leaft  to  its 
lupport ;  they  do  nothing  for  the  ftrengtli  and  dignity  of 
the  government  which  gives  them  fo  much  eafe  and  en- 
joyment ;  they  repay  nothing  for  the  benefits  they  re- 
ceive, and  yet  in  their  cafe  it  feems  a  privileged,  an  ho- 
nourable infolvency.  Let  this  abui'e  be  altogether  re- 
formed :  let  the  neceffary  charge  of  government  full  in 
juli  proportions  upon  every  member  of  tl\e  communuy  ; 
let  it  he  diffuibd  through  all  orders  of  men,  according  to 
the  means  and  abilities  of  each,  and  the  burthen  will  then 
be  light  and  equitable.' 

<  What  has  not  been  attempted,'  faid  the  emperor, 
*  in  order  to  eftabliOi  this  jult  equality  lb  much  dcfired  .> 
Have  not  the  Decurions,  who  were  bait;  enough,  in  the 
aUcflinent  of  the  cities  committed  to  them,  to  over-rate 
forre  in  order  to  give  undue  exceptions  to  others,  beea 
adjudged  by  the  law  to  be  burnt  alive  ?' 

*  Alas  !'  replied  Belifarius,  *  I  know  that  little  favour 
is  Ihewn  to  thole  unhappy  wretches.  For  not  liifficient'y 
grinding  the  face  of  the  poor  they  are  laid  in  irons,  un- 
mercifully fcourged  and  buffeted,  and  perfecuted,  under 
the  name  of  juftice,  with  eveiy  baibarity,  till  they  envy 
even  the  lot  of  flavcs.  But  toi'  the  regents  of  provinces, 
for  pro-confuls,  and  other  minilkrs,  are  there  rods  and 
dungeons  ready?  and  fuppofing  there  were,  of  what  ufe 
are  pains  and  penalties,  while  the  mouth  of  complaint  is 
ftopped,  and  the  cries  of  mil'ery  are  fuffccated  ?  Let  law* 
abate  of  their  feverity,  lb  they  have  a  free  courie,  and  in- 
jured m&n  are  perm.itted  to  profecute  their  legal  remedy.* 

*  The  liberty  to  complain  of  grievances,'  laid  Juiti- 
nian,  *  has  been  the  right  of  the  people  in  all  periods.' 

*  It  has  fo,'  replied  Belifarius,  *  it  is  a  conltitutional 
riglit,  but  the  exerciie  of  it  has  depended  upun  the  will 
and  pleafure  of  fubordinate  tyiants.  Have  not  attempts 
been  made  to  attach  the  perfons  cf  orefident  and  preied s, 

th:.-. 


BELISARIU3.  93 

that  cities  and  provinces  inigiit  be  at  Jiberty  to  appea)  to 
the  court  for  a  redrel's  of  injuiies,  in  which  thofe  very  men 
were  either  prijicipais  or  aicomplices  ?  And  could  any  me- 
thod be  tak.cn  more  fure  of  procuring  impunity  for  the 
offenders  ?  The  htw  directs  its  minillers  to  prevent  vid- 
Jence  and  exa6rions ;  and  thofe  very  minillers  are  the  par- 
ties ac:ufed.  The  law  impofes  a  religious  duty  upon  the 
governors  of  provinces, to  prote6l  the  weak  from  theoppref- 
lions  of  tlie  Itronger ;  and  thofe  ve^y  goveraors  liave  at  once 
the  means  of  opprefllng,  and  even  the  power  of  doing  it, 
under  the  fan6tion  of  that  very  law  which  forbids  them. 
The  law  defines  the  grofs  fum  of  the  tax  ;  but  prefidents 
and  pro-coniuis  make  the  affefllnent  upon  individuals,  and 
they  never  want  fophiftry  to  give  a  colour  to  the  exac- 
tions. The  law  gives  a  right  of  citing  the  tools  and  lit- 
tle inftruments  of  the  governor  before  the  governor  him- 
felf;  but  from  his  tribunal  there  lies  no  appeal  to  the  ib- 
vereign,  and  this,  we  are  told,  is  grounded  upon  a  maxim 
that  the  prince  raifcs  none  to  that  high  ftation  but  men 
of  approved  wiitiom  and  uprightnefSjVv'ho  can  do  no  wrongi 
But  cannot  the  prince  be  deceived  in  his  choice  ?  1  o 
truft  the  welfare  of  a  whole  people  to  the  promifed  faith  of 
one  man  is  a  monftrous  abfurdit y  in  goverament.  Juilinian 
was  aware  of  this,  and  to  reform  the  abufe  re-eilabli(hed 
the  pi-astorft-.ip,  with  full  powers  and  inftruftions  to  in- 
quire into  the  condu6l  and  depredations  of  the  governors. 
£ut,  in  doing  this,  he  created  a  new  order  of  tyrants, 
whofe  refidence  in  the  provinces  gave  an  opportunity  to 
contiption  to  fpread  as  it  were  by  contagion,  till  they, 
who  wtre  meant  to  be  the  guardians  ofthe  people,  became 
confederates  in  profligacy,  and  increaied  the  number  of 
vile  ufu'pers.  Hence  the  impunity  with  which  vice  lords 
it  through  the  empire;  hence  too,-  the  (hameful  imbeci- 
lity of  relaxed  and  ineffectual  laws.' 

*  What  would  you  do  In  fuch  a  cafe,'  fald  the  emperor  ? 
*  I  would  lllten,''  replied  Belifarius,  *  to  the  outcries  of 
the  injured,  and  proud  oppreiTicn  fhduld  tremble  for  its 
guilt. 

*  Thei^e  is,  among  the  various  inl'titutions  eftablifhed 

by 


54-  BELISARIUS; 

by  the  princes  of  tlie  empire,  one  that  I  reverence,  aa<i 
fervently  wifli  to  lee  entoiced  accordirg  to  the  true  prin- 
ciples and  ipirit  of  its  defign.  When  in  the  number  of 
perlons,  to  whom  the  authority  of  government  is  dele- 
gated, I  perceived  a  fet  of  officers  lent  into  the  provin- 
ces* with  Ipeci.il  powers  to  hear  the  complaints  of  tl^c 
people,  in  order  to  tranfmit  a  memorial  of  grievances  to 
the  emperor,  I  felt  my  heart  expand  with  ilie  fpirit  of 
humanity.  JMy  vows  are  offered  up,  my  conitant  prayers, 
that  the  prince  m3y  give  that  important  office  all  its 
weight  and  dignity  ;  that  he  may  nominate  to  fo  glo- 
rious an  empioyrntiit  his  leleft  and  moft  virtuous  irieixls, 
the  m.en  ot  approved  integrity  an  i  honour  j  tliat  amidli 
the  awful  pomp  of  religious  ceremony  he  n.ay  receive,  at 
the  foot  of  the  altar,  the  lokmn  oath,  by  which  the  cbo- 
ien  patriots  fliall  find  themlelves  to  their  prince,  their 
country,  and  their  God,  never  to  betray  the  intereffs  of 
the  weak  and  helplels  to  the  pride  and  arrogance  of  do- 
mineering fpirits  J  thst  he  may  each  vear  depute  his  ho- 
neft  band  as  the  guaidians  ot  our  civil  rig'ius ;  and  that 
he  may,  as  loon  as  their  high  commiflion  is  executed,  re- 
cal  them  to  his  piefer.ce,  Iclt  corrupt-on  havetim.e  totam- 
per  with  their  viitue.  Wtie  thu^gs  in  this  train,  what 
glorious  eifrils  might  be  expei^ed  from  fuch  a  vifi!ation? 
The  confequences  are  now  before  my  eyes  !  Bciioid,  on 
the  arrival  of  the  juft  and  upright  man,  how  liberty  rears 
its  head  in  the  provinces,  and  imiles  content  !  how  ty- 
ranny and  cppitffion  look  aba  fficd  and  tremble!  Behold 
the  governors,  the  pro-ccniuls,  and  their  deputies  turn 
pale  and  (hrink  at  the  tribunal  of  their  judge,  who  is 
I'uirounded  by  a  gi-ateful  afleu.bly  of  the  people,  and  hail- 
ed as  their  father  and  their  avenger  !  It  is  the  complaint 
of  kings  that  the  truth  does  not  reach  thtm  !  But  oh, 
my  friends  1  flie  endeavouis  to  make  her  way  to  them, 
and  even  breaks  thrc\igh  their  guards,  in  defiance  of  Iwords 
and  peril.  Yet  how  ealy  might  the  acccfs  be  made!  It 
wou'd  not  then  be  the  fediticus  outcry  of  a  tumultuous 
people,  but  the  calm  remonftraiice  of  the  wii'e  and  good 
©ffering  up,  with  refpe6liul  dtierence,  at  the  foot  ot  the 
*  They  were  called  Curiosj.  riuooe, 


EEL13ARIUS.  95 

throne,  the  fiipplications  of  humanity.  How  rare  would 
be  the  fi^-grant  outrages  committed  in  th^  very  name  of 
the  icveieicn,  it  thus  annually  they  were  to  undergo  a 
Icvere  and  ihict  examination,  whi't  the  J'word  of  juitice 
is  ready  inthelovcrcign's  hand  to  tall  on  every  guilty  head  ! 

*  Ot  all  ranks  in  lociety,  the  military  clafs  is  that 
where  licentiouliners  and  difcrder  are  likely  to  prevail 
with  impunity.  But  let  diicipline  be  enforced  with  due 
rigour  throughout  the  army  ;  let  partiality  never  glide 
into  the  adminvitraticn  ot  juitice  j  and  a  iew  examples, 
fuch  as  Juliinian  has  held  toith  to  the  world,  will  con- 
trol t!ie  wiideit  and  molt  daring  rpirits."" 

*  To  what  example  do  you  allude,'  laid  the  em.peror  ? 
*  You  ihall  hear,'  replied  Bclilarius  :  <  it  is,  in  my  judg- 
ment, the  brightelt  pallage  ct  his  reign.  The  generals 
who  commanded  at  Colcliis  h.d  imbrued  their  hands  in 
royal  blood.  The  king  of  the  Lazi?.ns,  even  then  in  al- 
liance with  the  emperor,  was inhimianly  murdered.  With- 
out delay  Jultinian  lent  Atiianalius,  one  of  the  moll  dii- 
tinguifhed  lenators,  with  initrucf  ions  and  full  power  to 
hold  an  inquiry  i;:to  the  condu61:  of  the  delinquents,  and 
after  a  full  hearing  to  pronounce  judgment,  and  lee  the 
lentence  of  the  law  executed  on  tlie  guilty.  Athanafius, 
who  v/as  rwA-  judge  in  the  lalt  refort,  conduced  this  im- 
portant bufuv-is  with  all  the  pomp  and  tolemnity  the  oc- 
cafion  required.  On  one  of  the  Imaller  hillsof  Caucafus 
he  fixed  his  inounal,  and  tliere,  in  the  fight  of  the  La- 
I'l^sn  armv,  the  uiurderers  of  the  king  were  beheaded. — • 
But  conuTiilTions  of  this  nature  cailcd  for  men  :upenor  to 
CL«rruption,  ot  whch,  indeed,  the  number  israiferably 
tiiinnedhy  the  weak  and  proibate  condition  of  the  fenate.' 

*  Hew  !'  faid  Tiberius,  *  are  you  a  zealot  for  that  de- 
fpotic  order,  thofe  enemies  of  civil  liberty,  men  of  bound- 
lefs  arrogance  in  powei-,  fubmiinve  to  ufurpation,  and 
lefs  ready  to  enllave  or  be  enflaved  ?' 

<  When  I  bemoan  the  want  of  a  fenate,'  replied  Beli- 
farius,  *  I  do  not  regret  what  it  was  ;  I  regret  what  it 
might  have  been.  There  is  in  every  government  a  ten- 
dency to  arbitrary  pov/crj  foi  it  is  perhaps  natural  to 

man 


96  BELlSARiVS. 

jiiian  to  Tet  up  his  own  will  as  a  law  to  others.  By  thelp 
rigid  behaviour,  their  inflexible  pride,  and  domip.eerin-T 
arrogance,  the  lenate  made  their  adminiitration  ouious  j 
and  mankind,  haralTed  out,  began  to  conceive  hopes  that 
the  government  of  one  might  prove  more  mild  and  equi- 
table j  they  preferred  it,  therefore,  to  the  tyrarmy  of  the 
few.  The  fovereign,  thus  elhbliflied,  grew  jealoufly 
fond  of  the  fole  autiiorlty,  and  upon  the  ruins  of  the  fe- 
nate  he  has  determined  to  build  up  his  preroeative.  As 
he  had  advanced  in  his  encroachment,  a  panic  icized  thp 
fenate,  and  the  whole  order  crouched  at  once  with  a 
meannefs  that  exceeded  even  the  wifhes  of  the  new  maf- 
terj  even  Tiberius  blufiied  for  their  fervilitv :  but  it  is 
cafy  to  conceive,  that  the  fenate,  when  it  loli  the  power 
of  doing  evil,  might  ftill  retain  that  of  rendering  fervice 
to  the  public  j  that  it  might  give  to  government  an  air 
of  conftitutional  authority  j  and  being  an  intermediate 
order  between  the  ibvereign  and  the  people,  might  con- 
nect and  Ifrengthen  the  wiiole  force  of  the  community. — 
And  yet  it  is  net  in  this  view  that  I  regard  the  fenate, 
I  confider  it  as  a  feminary  of  Itateimen  and  of  heroes, 
where  at  all  times  might  be  found  a  fet  of  great  and  emi- 
nent chara61ers,  uled  alike  to  the  iword  and  to  the  Icales 
of  juilice,  dilfinguifhed  both  in  council  and  in  the  field, 
and  fully  iniiru<i^ed  how  to  give  fupport  to  government, 
by  falutary  laws  and  military  force.  It  is  from  that 
liuriery  of  men,  all  trained  to  tiuth,  to  knowledge,  and 
to  virtue,  that  the  fovereign  would  be  always  able  to  fe- 
lecl  his  minifters,  his  generals,  his  governors,  and  his  ot- 
ficers  of  every  fort.  Let  there  be  occafjonnow  tor  a  man 
of  principle,  wifdom,  and  ability  ;  where  is  he  to  be 
found  ?  How  is  he  to  be  known?  Where  has  he  diftin- 
guiflitd  himfelf  ?  Muft  the  fate  of  a  whole  people  be  rilk- 
cd  befoie  lie  cin  have  a  decided  charailer  ?  Can  a  Regu- 
Jus,  a  Fabius,  or  a  Sclpio,  be  formed  by  the  new  inlli- 
tution  of  an  imperial  miliiia  to  do  duty  about  the  pa- 
lace?* Inftead  of  a  public  career  of  emuhticn,  where 

*  This  ncw-fanglcd  order  conGfted  of  the  civil  magiftrate  and 
the  officers  otthe  revenue.  Tlj«  f«nats  was  merged  in  it  by  po- 
licy of  the-  emperors.       '  the 


BELISARIUS.  o^r 

ihe  foldiery  Is  inured  to  the  exeiclfe  of  arm?,  where  ta- 
Itnts  enter  the  lills,  where  virtue  is  called  forth  into  open 
day-light,  where  the  chara6lersot' mendllphy  themklves 
to  the  world,  and  the  powers  of  genius  are  unfolded,  and 
abilities  prels  iorwird  in  the  race  of  glory  j  inftead  of  this 
bright  Ichool  of  honour,  ail  generous  contention  is  i'up- 
prefl'ed,  and  employments  of  dignity,  that  fiiould  be  the 
reward  of  merit  only,  are  now  given  as  a  compliment  to 
the  accidental  circumltances  of  birth,  or  partially  dealt 
out  by  the  hand  ct  court  favour.  From  this  iburce  fpring 
all  the  evils,  which,  lik.e  a  torrent,  threaten  to  overwhelm 
the  ftate." 

*  What  would  you  advife,'  faid  the  em.ptror  ?  *  Wlicn 
men  have  degenerated  into  vice  and  pro/ligacy ;  whea 
the  whole  race  is  degraded,  and,  after  painful  enaeavours 
to  appoint  for  the  bell,  nothing  great  or  good  can  be  le- 
paratcd  from  the  general  mais  of  the  times;  judgment 
then  may  be  weary  of  deliberating,  and  he  who  finds  that 
he  chooles  onlv  to  err,  may  reafonably  dcfirc  to  w£.ve  the 
tatigue  of  thinking  to  no  purpcfe.' 

*  That  is  concluding  too  haftily,'  replied  Beliiarius  j 

*  though  often  baffled  in  the  choice,  yet  the  fovereign 
fhould  not  be  difcouraged.  Total  depravity  never  hap- 
pens J  honed  men  are  always  to  be  found  ;  and  if  not 
iound,  they  are  to  be  made.  Thev  will  be  made,  if  the 
love  of  virtue,  and  penetration  to  diftinguifh  it,  form  ths 
character  of  the  prince.  Farewel,  my  friends,  the  topic 
I  have  juft  ftarted  fnall  be  difcufT-d  at  our  next  meeting  j 
and  it  will  be  no  unpleafing  inquiry,  if  we  find,  as  I  think 
we  fliali,  to  reform  the  worit  abui'es  depends  upon  the 
volition  of  a  nngle  man.' 

*  Beliiarius  feems  to  reft  every  thing  upon  the  weak 
irrelolute  will  of  the  prince,'  laid  Juflmian  to  Tiberius: 

*  but  can  a  mere  acl  of  the  will  beltow  difcernment,  or 
tlcertain  a  proper  choice  ?  Is  he  not  av/are  of  the  falie 
appearances  under  which   men   difgulle  themlelves  ?' — . 

*  That  men  will  be  born  fuch  as  you  choofethcy  fliould,' 
faid  Tiberius,  *  as  if  nature  were  fubjecf  to  political  au- 
thority, is  a  propofition  that  erabarrailes  me  much.    Yet 

I  JBsIifaiitis 


9?  EELISARIUS. 

iJellfarius  has  a  large  and  comprehenrivemlnd  :  his  years 
and  his  mistortunes  have  opened  to  him  many  veins  of 
rt;fle6\Ion  j  and  it  will  be  well  worth  while  to  lilten  to 
him.' 

CHAP.  XIII. 

ON  their  arrival  the  following  day,  they  found  Beli- 
fariiis  employed  with  his  man  Paulinus  in  the  cul- 
tivation of  his  garden.  '  Had  you  arrived,'  faid  he,  *  a 
moment  /boner,  you  would  have  learnt,  as  I  myl'elf  have 
done,  an  excellent  lefi'on  in  the  art  of  governing  ;  for  no- 
thing bears  io  ftrong  a  refemblance  to  political  ceconomy 
as  the  management  of  plants  j  and  my  gardener,  who  is 
here  at  hand,  reaibns  upon  the  matter  like  another  Solon.' 

As  the  emperor  and  Tiberius  weie  walking  a  turn  with 
the  hero,  the  young  man  Hated  to  him  the  feveral  re- 
fleclicns  they  had  made,  together  with  the  reafons  upon 
with  they  founded  an  opinion  that  he  was  vvrong  in  his 
laft  propofition. 

«  It  is  too  true,'  replied  Belifarius,  '  that  a  prince,  fur- 
rounded  in  his  palace  by  a  circle  of  courtiers  and  of  flat- 
terers,  will  have  but  little  knovv-ledgc  of  mankind  j  but 
what  fliall  reftrain  him  from  breaking  through  the  fence, 
from  being  communicative  and  eafy  of  accefs  ?  Aflability 
in  a  fovereignis  an  inquiry  into  that  truth,  which  will  be 
dil'guifed  by  his  flaves,  but  never  withheld  from  him  by 
the  friend  of  the  people,  the  honeft  hufbandman,  and  the 
rough  veteran  foidier.  From  them  he  will  hear  the  voice 
of  the  public  i  that  voice  which  is  the  oracle  kings  ought 
to  confuh-i  the  beft,  the  unerring  decider  of  merit  and  of 
vii'tue!  Let  that  oracle  pronounce  what  men  are  fit  for 
fervants  of  the  ftate,  and  an  erroneous  clioice  will  feldom 
be  made.  To  fay  the  wliole  in  a  few  words,  the  fove- 
reign's  attention  ought  to  be  d;r'-6fed  only  to  two  objt^fs, 
which  are,  the  coumcllors  of  Hate,  and  the  men  who  are 
to  carry  the  plans  of  the  cabinet  into  execution  :  if  the 
former  are  (it  for  their  high  office,  I  will  be  responfible 
for  the  latter.  The  whole  depends  upon  having  near 
hii  perfon  men  woithy  of  their  Ihtion.    Theudorlc  had 

but 


EELISARIU3.  95 

biit  one  faithful  advifer,  the  virtuous  CafTiodcrus,  and 
the  glory  of  his  reign  is  known  to  the  univerl'e.  I  will 
take  upon  me  to  iay,  that  even  at  court  there  are  not 
wanting  intaliible  criterions  of  honour  and  fidelity.  Se- 
verity of  manners,  difinterelted  conduct,  the  honeft  firm- 
nefs  of  truth,  a  generous  ardour  in  the  cauie  of  innocence 
unfliaken  conifancy  in  friendfhip,  a  zeal  for  virtue  that 
never  veers  about  with  the  gales  of  fortune,  and  a  rever- 
ence for  the  laws  ;  thefc  are  the  features  of  c'naracter  by 
which  a  piince  may  know  howtodiftinguifhamor.g  men, 
and  to  determine  his  choice.  Would  you  know  the  to- 
kens which  (hould  make  him  profcribe  men  from  his  pre- 
fence  ?  They  are  more  legible  and  certain  than  the  for- 
mer ;  for  virtue  may  be  counterfeit,  but  the  character  of 
vice  is  feldom  afted.  As  fcon  as  it  appears,  you  may 
believe  it  genuine.  For  example,  if  I  were  a  king,  the 
man  who  once  fl)ould  dare  to  talk  v/ith  contempt  of  my 
people,  with  levity  of  the  duties  of  my  ifation,  oi  ihould 
attempt  to  varnilh  with  flattery  the  abufe  of  my  prero- 
gative, that  man  fhould  never  rank  in  the  lilf  or  my 
friends.  Moreover,  to  an  oblervant  eye  that  m.arks  the 
ways  of  the  world,  there  are  never  wanting  certain  traces 
of  character,  which,  thr:ugh  the  veil  of  ciiiiimulation,  be- 
tray the  habitual  fentimcnt,  and  develope  the  inward 
man.  I  have  heard  much  of  the  profound  impofture  of 
courtiers  :  but  impolfure  is  as  well  known  as  candour  it> 
felf ;  and  fliould  the  fovereign  be  impofcd  upon,  the  public 
voice  will  undeceive  him.  Let  him  thcretore  give  liis  ef- 
teem  and  confidence  to  the  worthy,  and  he  will  be  fure  to 
be  properly  informed  in  every  deliberation:  for  tiuthand 
virtue  will  then  fit  at  his  council-boird.' 

*  But  do  you  confider,'  faid  the  em.peror,  *  what  a 
number  of  the  good  and  virtuous  he  will  have  occalion 
for,  that  the  free  courie  of  jultice  and  tlie  dignity  of  liis 
reign  may  be  fupported  in  their  vigour  ?  Where  is  he  to 
find  the  men  to  complete  fo  honouiable  a  lift  r' 

*  Human  nature,'  replied  Beliiarius,  'will  always  iup- 
ply  him.  Let  Ibvereigns  know  how  to  ufe  them,  and  fhs 
will  never  be  defe(Stive.' — '  And  to  dire(^  that  ufe,'  faid 

I  2,  JultiniaDj 


.  3 CO  BELI5ARIUS. 

jultinian,  *  can  there  be  abetter  rule  than  that  of  whole- 
some and  falutary  laws  :' — '  That  will  go  a  great  way,* 
replied  Belifarius  j  '  but  it  is  not  all :  the  manners  aie  not 
in  many  inftances,  within  the  control  oi'law.' 

*  And  how  then,"  faid  Juftinian,  *  are  inveterate  habits, 
to  which  riiv.e  has  given  a  kind  of  prefcription,  to  be  ef- 
fectually changed  ?' 

*  My  gardener  will  inform   you,""  replied  Belifarius. 

*  Here,  Paulinus :  When  a  noxious  herb  Ihoots  up  among 
your  plants,  what  do  you  do  ? — '  I  take  it  up  by  the 
root,'  anfwered  the  honelt  gardener  :■ — *  But  wliy,  inrtead 
of  weeding  it  don't  you  Jop  it  ?' — '  Why,  it  would  fprout 
again,  and  there  would  be  no  end  of  the  trouble  :  and  be- 
fides,  good  fir,  it  is  at  the  root  it  fucks  in  the  juice  of  the 
tarth,  and  that  is  our  bufinefs  to  prevent.' — '  You  hear 
him,  my  friends,'  faid  B^ilifarius  j  *  he  has  given  you  an 
abridgment  of  the  law.  The  law,  it  is  true,  rctrenche?, 
as  far  as  it  is  able,  the  crimes  of  foclety  ;  but  the  vices 
that  give  birth  to  thofe  crimes  are  fuffered  to  remain, 
whereas  they  ought  to  l)e  v/eeded  and  torn  up  by  the  root. 
Nor  is  that  an  impracticable  fcheme  :  for  all  vices,  at 
leall  thofc  of  the  court,  have  one  common  root,  and  grow 
out  of  the  fame  feed.' — *  And  what  is  that,  pray?'  faid 
Tiberius. — '    Inordinate     defue,'    replied    Bdifarius : 

•  and  whether  that  defire  be  undcrftood  to  import  avarice 
that  loves  to  hoard,  or  rapaclt.y  that  delights  in  iquan- 
dering,  there  is  nothing  fordid  and  unworthy  but  what 
fprings  from  that  fource.  Inhumanity,  fraud,  treachery-, 
ingratitude,  envy,  malice,  and  all  the  vices  that  make  the 
gradation  to  the  higheft  iniquity,  are  modes  of  the  fame 
depravity  of  heart,  that  breaks  out  in  every  fpecies  of 
meannel's  and  of  pride*  It  goes  on  in  a  courfe  of  depre- 
dation upon  mankind,  and  with  the  fpoils  of  the  weak 
pampers  itltlf  in  riot,  voluptuous  enjoyment,  and  every 
fort  of  profligacy  and  corruption.  Thus  the  love  ot  riches 
infc£ls  the  whole  fyilem  of  the  manners.  Does  it  kindle 
ambition  ?  Perfidy  and  fraud  are  mingled  with  what 
otherwife  might  be  a  nobler  pafiion.  Is  courage  eyer 
grafted  upon  coveLoufnef§  ?  From  the  (lock  on  which  it 

srows 


EELI5ARIUS.  lOt 

grows,  even  courage  (hall  derive  the  pernicious  qualities 
that  debale  it  into  a  vice.  The  molt  brilliant  talents  are  by 
avarice  tinged  with  the  ftain  oi"  venality  j  and  the  Ibul, 
which  is  enlbved  by  it,  is  for  ever  let  up  to  auction,  to 
be  bought  by  the  highelt  bidder. 

*  From  this  lource,  this  i'atal  defire  of  amafTing 
wealth,  Ipring  all  the  crimes  that  dilhu  b  the  community. 
Of  this  vice,  whole  tyranny  affli6ls  the  universe,  luxury 
is  the  parent ;  for,  to  make  its  genealogy  clear,  luxury 
engenders  various  wants  j  by  thefe  avarice  is  begot;  and 
avarice,  to  gratify  her  purpoies,  is  obliged  to  league 
with  opprefTion.  From  hence  it  is  clear  that,  to  lay  tlie 
ax  to  the  root  of  the  milchief,  v/e  muft  begin  with  lux- 
ury :  there  mufc  commence  the  grand  revolution  in  the 
manners.' 

*  But  that,'  faid  the  emperor,  «  will  be  to  wage  war 
with  an  hydra;  one  head  is  ftruck  oft,  and  thoufands 
grow  in  its  room.  To  ul'e  acomparifon  moreanalugous  j 
luxury  is  a  Proteus,  which  is  never  to  be  chained,  but 
eludes  the  touch  in  diiferent  fhapes.  I  will  go  furrher,' 
faid  the  emperor.-  '  the  cauies  ar=d  tiie  effects  of  luxury, 
its  connexions  and  its  interelf,  form  a  fyltem  fo  com- 
pounded of  good  and  evil,  that,  were  it  pofuble  to  re- 
ftrain  or  delboy  it,  I  (bould  much  doubt  whether  the 
former  would  be  endured,  or  the  latter  prove  in  the  end 
an  advantage  to  the  Itate.' 

*  I  gram  you,'  replied  Belifarius,  *  that  luxury  in  the 
flate  is  like  a  let  of  wicked  and  evil  men,  who  have  en- 
trenched th.-^mfclves  in  great  connexions ;  m.ealures  are 
kept  with  them  in  the  beginning,  on  account  of  their 
party  ;  but  in  the  end  they  are  ordered  into  confinement, 
as  enemies  of  the  ftate.  I  fhali  not,  however,  go  ib  far. 
Let  us  fet  out  with  fa6fs  whicii  I  myfelf  have  fcen.  Lux- 
ury, it  has  been  faid,  is  of  ufe  in  capital  cities.  I  do  not 
believe  the  pofition  ;  but,  be  that  as  it  may,  in  a  camp  I 
am  lure  it  is  pernicious.  When  Pompey  obferved  the 
foldiers  of  Cselar  living  upon  roots  that  grew  wildly  in 
the  fields,  "  They  are,' '^idid  he,  "  an  herd  of  brute  beajh  -.^^ 
he  fliouid  have  laid,  "  Thiy  are  ■nun.''''     The  primary 

I  3  quality 


tM  BELISARIUS. 

quality  of  a  general  is  to  hazard  liis  life;  the  fecond,  id 
circumrcribe  his  paflions  and  h's  wants  within  the  bounds 
of  reafon  and  of  nature  j  and  this  lall,  to  the  man  ener- 
vated by  voluptuous  indolence,  will  be  a  talk  of  the  moil 
difficult  felf  denial.  The  people  that  fhall  endeavour, 
amidft  the  rough  fcencs  of  war,  to  enjoy  the  ibfter  de- 
licacies of  peace,  will  llrive  to  reconcile  tw-o  things 
wholly  incompatible,  and  will  ^neither  be  able  to  bear 
profperity  nor  the  rcverfes  of  fortune.  To  be  victorious 
will  not  anfwer  their  purpofe  ;  they  mult  riot  in  abun- 
dance-, and  fliould  that  h?ppen  not  to  be  the  coniequence, 
even  victory  will  lole  its  charms.  The  camp,  wliere  fru- 
gality and  fober  manners  prevail,  will  be  full  of  fpirit  and 
manly  vigour  ;  it  will  be,  as  I  may  lay,  on  the  wine;  j 
while  the  army,  which  is  ciilTolved  in  luxury,  grows  flug- 
giHi,  dartardly,  and  ina6live.  By  temperance  all  tha  ad- 
vantages of  inward  ftrength  and  outward  refource  are  ma- 
naged and  lecured  J  and,  on  the  other  hand,  they  are  all 
thrown  away  by  prodigality,  till  at  length  defolation, 
famine,  pale  difmay,  and  fhameful  flight,  conclude  the 
war  with  infamy  and  difgrace.  To  the  people  foftencd 
by  effeminacy,  every  entcrprife  appears  above  their 
ftrength  :  the  principle  of  valour  may  remain,  but  the 
power  of  executing  is  gone  ;  and  the  enemy  that  knows 
how  to  harals  and  fatigue,  need  not  endeavour  to  van- 
quifh  J  the  delays  of  war  will  have  the  efficacy  of  fo  many 
battles. 

*  Nor  does  the  whole  mifchiefof  Iiix-ury  confift  in  waft- 
ing the  vigour  of  tlie  body  j  it  Ifrikes  corruption  to  the 
Vcriy  foul.  The  man  of  wealth  and  affluence,  who  leads 
pleafure  and  luxury  in  his  train,  diffiifes  a  contagion 
through  the  camp;  and  the  foldier  of  fortune,  a/hamed 
to  be  outdone  by  his  equal  in  the  army,  becomes  his 
competitor  in  profligacy,  and  for  a  fliew  of  vain  glory 
incurs  real  diflionour.  To  riches  and  fplendour  of  ap- 
pearance, elleem  is  offered  up  as  a  tribute,  while  poverty 
falls  into  contempt,  and  Ibber  virtue  is  abaflied  by  ridi- 
cule :  then  farewel  to  all ;  there  can  be  no  deeper  perdition. 
Tills,  my  friends,  is  not  a  fi6li.ious  account  of  luxury  ; 
it  is  the  hillory  of  what  I  have  feen.'  *  I  know 


BFLISARIUS.  ICJ 

•  I  know  full  wcil,'  laid  Tiberius,  *  that  you  banifhcd 
It  from  your  annies  j  pray  inform  me  how  was  that  ac- 
compiilhed  T — '  Without  any  kind  of  difficulty,'  replied 
Belifarius  :  '  I  cafliiered  it  trom  ray  own  tent,  and  made  it 
appear  throughout  the  i-anks  in  a  contemptible  light, 
Againft  the  \''enom  of  pride  contempt  is  a  powerful  anti- 
dote !  I  had  learned  that  a  young  Aliatic  had  uihered  in- 
to my  camp  the  foft  indulgences  of  his  native  ciimej 
that  he  repofed  him.feif  under  a  purple  pavilion,  an  d 
drank  out  of  golden  goblets  5  that  his  table  fraokei  with 
the  rareft  difnes,  and  fparkled  \vi:h  the  moft  exq  jiilte 
wines.  I  invited  him  to  dine  with  me,  and  in  the  presence 
of  his  com.rades. — *'  Youug  man,*'  faid  I,  **  you  lee 
we  live  here  upon  homely  fare  j  we  are  often  wode  lerved, 
aad  it  is  what  we  have  to  expeil ;  for  in  the  race  of  glory 
it  is  our  lot  veiy  often  to  want  bread.  Your  delicacy, 
take  my  word  for  it,  v/ill  meet  frequent  difappointments 
in  this  hardy  courfe  4§  life,  and  therefore  I  would  ad- 
vile  you  to  takeycvir  leave  of  the  army."  He  received  his 
reproach  with  true  fenllbility,  made  an  apology  for  his 
conduft,  and  difcharged  this  retinue.' — '  And  was  that 
admonition  fufficientr'  in terpo fed  Tiberius. — *'  Without 
doubt  it  was,'  replied  Belifarius  j  *  for  my  own  example 
gave  weight  to  mv  precepts  j  ajid,  befides,  the  charafter 
of  irrefolution  never  beicnged  to  me.' — '  But  furely  this 
feverity  of  life  muic  have  occauoned  great  complaints !' 
— '  When  the  law  is  equal  and  expedient,  it  is  obeyed 
without  murmuring.' — '  Very  true  j  but  to  be  humbled 
to  the  level  of  the  poor  muil  have  been  an  hard(hipupon 
the  rich  man,' — '  That  may  pcliibly  be  the  cafe  j  but  to 
counterbalance  that  inconvenience,  it  was  agreeable  to 
the  poor  m.an  to  fee  the  rich  undillinguilhed  j  and  the 
poor  in  all  quarters  of  the  world  are  the  the  greatelt 
party.' — '  Yes ;  but  in  courts  the  rich  have  the  Arongeil 
iniluence.' — *They  have  fo,  and  they  revenged  thcmiclvcs 
by  my  ruin :  and  yet,  fai'  from  repenting.  I  Should  act  in 
the  fame  manner  again  ;  for  the  vigour  of  the  foul,  like 
th?.t  of  the  body,  is  the  reiult  of  temperance.  Without 
reicperince  there  is  nothing  generous  and  dinnteretfed  ; 

and 


104  BELISARIUS. 

and  without  dlfintereliedners,  not  a  fingle  virtue.  I  In- 
quired oi  a  fliepherd  one  day,  why  his  dogs  were  fo  faith- 
tiil?  "  Becaui'e,"  fuid  he,  ''  they  live  on  bread.  Had 
the)  been  nourifhed  with  flefii,  they  would  be  no  better 
than  wolves."  I  was  much  Itruck  with  this  reply.  In 
general,  the  fureft  way  to  control  the  progrefs  of  vice 
is  to  retrench  the  wants   occafioned   by  evil  habits.'— 

*  All  this  is  prafticable  in  an  army,'  laid  the  emperor, 

*  but  merely  vilionary,  nay,  impofTible  in  a  ftate.  Be- 
tween civil  inftitutions  and  military  law  there  is  a  wide 
difference:  by  the  latter  liberty  is  much  abridged,  and 
fettered  with  Trri^t  limitations.  No  law  whatever  re- 
ftrains  a  member  ot'ibciety  from  enriching  himfelf  by  fair 
and  honeli:  means  j  and  when  wealth  is  acquired,  no  law 
can  diveft  him  ot  the  right  of  difpofing  of  it,  or  prevent 
a  quiet  enjoyment  of  his  property.  It  is  the  fruit  of  his 
imludry,  his  labour,  and  his  talents,  or  it  was  tranfmit- 
ted  to  him  by  his  ancedors.  He  is  at  liberty  to  diflipatCj 
or  to  gratify  his  avarice  by  concealing  his  treafure.' — 

*  I  fuhfcribe  to  what  you  fay,'  faid  Belifarius. — '  I  go 
ftill  further,'  continued  the  emptror  :  '  if  the  riches  of  the 
community  are  engroHed  by  a  particular  clafs  of  men,  it 
is  fit  that  thev  fliould  be  dififufed,  and  that  labour  and 
indullry  fliouid  derive  their  lliare  from  the  hand  of  idle- 
nefs-' — '  I  concur  with  you  in  that  alfo,'  faid  the  hero. 
— '  I  will  add.'  refumed  Juftinian,  *  that  fenfuallty,  of- 
tentallon,  iplendour  of  appearance,  the  caprices  of  lailc, 
the  coquetry  of  fafliion,  the  refinements  of eifeminacy,  and 
the  whims  of  vanity,  are  all  little  blemifties  in  the  man- 
ners, which  the  policy  of  every  ftate  connives  at,  and  of 
wiiich,  without  a  degree  of  tyranny,  no  law  can  take  cog- 
nizance.'— '  Heaven  forbid,'  faid  Belifarius,  *  that  I 
ihould  defire  to  bring  down  the  weight  of  law  upon  mat- 
ters ofthis  fort ! ' — *  Now  then  you  fee,'  continued  the  em- 
peror, *  that  lu::ury  iiands  protefted  by  all  that  is  held  fa- 
cred  and  inviolable  amongft  men,  by  liberty,  by  the  rights 
of  property,  and,  I  may  add,  public  utility.' — '  I  agree  to 
ail,'  faid  Belifarius,  *  except  that  laft  point.' — *  To  clear 
that  from  ol:)je(^ions,'  faid  the  prince,  *  you  will  allow 

that 


BELISARIUS.  1»5 

ihat  luxury  animates  the  arts,  and  bids  them  thriv* 
and  flourifli ;  that  it  encourages  induftry,  and  excites  a 
fpirit  ot  activity  and  emulation,  otfcrir.g  to  the  habit  of 
indolence  and  the  love  ot  idknefs  new  incentives  otdciire, 
artificial  want, and  ftudied  gratifications.' 

'  I  allow,'  laid  Belilarius,  *  that  luxury,  for  thofe 
who  have  been  addicted  to  it,  has  its  allurements,  and 
that  it  is  profitable  to  men  who  Itudy  to  heighten  thofe 
allurements  and  gratify  defire  :  that  the  law  ihould  leave 
that  commerce  free  and  open  I  likewil'e  admit.  Is  not 
this  v.-hat  you  contend  for?' 

*  I  contend  for  fomething  further,'  replied  the  emperor : 
'  I  maintain,  that  the  influence  of  luxury-,  by  progreiTive 
degrees,  diffufes  itfelf  through  every  clafs  of  the  comm.u- 
uity,  even  down  to  thofe  who  work  and  labour.  It  is 
beneficial  to  them,  for  it  opens  a  vent  for  their  commo- 
dities, and  yields  a  quick  return  for  their  indultry.' 

'  It  is  upon  this  point,'  faid  Beiifarius,  *  that  ap- 
pearances miflead  you  ;  for  that  which  comes  to  the  fhare 
of  the  labouring  man  from  the  hand  of  prodigality,  only 
reverts  back  to  the  original  owner :  it  was  firft  taken 
from  him  by  avarice  j  and  if  it  return  to  him,  it  is  be- 
caufe  luxury  cannot  prevent  it.  Recal  to  mind  the  idea 
which  I  formerly  luggefted,  of  the  primitive  itate  of  fo- 
ciety :  what  is  the  end  it  has  in  view  ?  Is  it  not  to  ren- 
der man  ufeful  to  man  ?  And  in  that  fyftem,  is  not  the 
right  which  one  man  lias  to  the  labours  of  another  founded 
on  reciprocal  conditions  ?  If  fo,  what  muft  be  laid  of  him 
Vv^ho  employs  thouiands  to  anfwer  the  multiplicity  of  his 
wants,  without  contributing  on  his  part  to  theferviceof 
others  ?  He  is  like  a  fterile  and  pernicious  herb  that 
grows  to  feed  in  a  field  of  wheat.  Such  is  the  rich  man 
who  loiters  his  days  in  idlenefs  and  luxury.  For  him 
the  bufy  part  of  the  fociety  are  at  work ;  and  with  a 
sold  difregard  he  receives  the  prod u6^s  of  their  labour  ai 
a  tribute  due  to  him.  To  fupply  his  defire,  and  admi- 
nifter  to  his  pleaiures,  leems  the  employment  of  all 
nature;  the  elements,  the  moft  exquifite  viands,  the 
arts  and  tlie  choiceft  efforts  of  invention,   are  all  his. 

He 


I06  BELISARIUS. 

He  partakes  of  all,  and  is  ur.conducive  himfelf  to  any 
ufetul  encij  he  engroflls  troni  the  public  feivice  a  num- 
ber of  hands  for  his  own  ^urpofcs  5  he  does  the  duty  of 
none,  and  d.es  at  lall  witiicut  leaving  any  void,  but  that 
of  the  good  things  he  has  confunied.'" 

*  I  am  not  clear  as  to  this  point,'  fald  Tiberius  j  *  for 
it  feems  to  me  that  he  is  not  altogether  fo  great  an  in- 
cumbrance as  you  imagine.  For  if  he  does  not  throw 
the  fruits  of  his  own  talents  into  the  general  fund  j  if  he 
does  not  impart  to  tlie  public  his  own  activity  and  pow- 
ers ;  yet  he  circulates  his  uioney,  and  that  does  full  a^ 
well.' 

*  Hold,  my  young  friend,'  fald  Belifarius  }  »  money- 
is  a  mere  fymbol  of  valuation,  a  general  rtandard,  denot- 
ing the  worth  of  ^e  thing  we  receive,  and  a  pledge  for 
the  return  of  it.  It  anfwers  the  purpofes  of  mutual  com- 
merce, and  gives  facility  to  the  traffic  between  man  and 
man  :  but  he  who,  In  the  courfeof  that  traffic,  gives  only 
the  lymbol,  and  never  parts  with  the  reality,  breaks  the 
tiue  law  of  coinmutation,  in  order  to  pollefs  himfelf  of 
that  fur  which  he  never  pays  in  kind.  The  pawn  which 
he  depofits  difpenfes  with  the  contraft,  inftead  of  bind- 
ing it  c'ofer.  Let  the  magiltrate  keep  painful  vigils  for 
the  public  fafety ;  let  the  foldier  fight  the  battles  of  his 
country}  and  let  the  hulbandinan  and  artificers  work  in- 
ceffiintly  ;  the  right  of  the  rich  man  to  their  joint  fervi- 
ces  is  annually  renewed,  and  his  privilege  to  be  infigni- 
ficant  is  ftamped  upon  his  gold.' 

*  In  this  manner,'  faid  Tiberius,  '  the  world  is  hired 
in  thefervice  of  opulence.' — *  It  isfo,  my  young  friend/ 
continued  B.lifaiius  ;  '  and  the  rich  man  is  at  no  other 
trouble  than  that  of  paying  in  the  detail  to  the  whole 
community  the  wages  of  their  fervitude.' — *  But  ft^ould 
there  be  luch  a  Uate  of  fervitude  ?'  inquired  Tiberius. — > 
*  Why  fhould  any  government  endure  thefe  men  of  over- 
grown opulence  r' — '  Bccauie,'  replied  the  hero,  *  the  law 
fecures  to  every  individual  the  poli'cffion  of  the  property 
he  has  acquired,  and  nothing  can  be  fo  juftly  acquired  as 
the  fruit  or  labour,  indulhy,  and  knowledge.     With  th» 

lib  ertv 


BELISARIUS,  107 

liberty  of  acquiring  the  right  of  poflcfRng  is  naturally 
connecled  ;  and  property,  as  well  as  liberty.  Is  a  civil 
rigiit  not  to  be  violated.*  In  is,  without  doubt,  an  evil, 
that  the  opulent  fhould  have  it  in  their  power  to  throw 
the  whole  1  >ad  of  their  own  exiftence,  and  that  of  their 
train,  upon  the  community  5  but  it  would  be  a  more 
crying  evil  were  the  principles  of  emulation  i'upprelTcd, 
and  diverted  of  a  fccure  title  to  its  polTcflions.  Let  us 
therefore  not  complain  of  incurable  evils.  As  long  as 
there  are  degrees  of  aflivity,  induftry,  and  oeconomy, 
there  will  be  degrees  of  happinefs  and  inequality  in  the 
conditions  of  mani'iind.  Tne  more  flouriiliing  the  ftate, 
trie  more  rtrlkirg  will  that  inequality  be  j  and  yet  to  le- 
vel thoie  conditions,  is  a  power  that  no  legiflature  will 
ururp.' 

*  Let  us  avow  then,"'  faid  the  emperor,  '  that  luxury- 
has  its  uie  J  for  it  tenJs,  by  its  wants  and  its  expences, 
to  command  with  the  public  for  the  very  inequality  com- 
plained of.  In  other  words,  luxury  exhaufts  its  own 
riches,  and  bids  them  fiow  among  the  people.' — *  I  ac- 
knowledge it,'  replied  Belifarius,  '  riches  fhould  have  as 
many  vents  as  poffibie  through  which  todiffufe  themfelves 
abroad.  I  do  not  mean  to  argue,  that  the  man  of  affluence 
fhould  be  obliged  to  hoard  his  riches,  cr  that  any  rule  of 
policy  fhould  prefcribe  the  ule  to  be  made  of  them.  The 
law,  I  have  already  faid,  fhould  content  itfelf  with  charg- 
ing t'.ie  public  with  thenecellities  ot  government  :  farther 
than  this  it  fliould  not  go  j  the  left  of  every  ruan's  ac- 
quiiition  rtiould  beleft  un>;xerci;'cd,  in  fiich  a  map.ner,that 
the  ftate  fhould  draw  its  necellary  fupplies  fiom  the  i'u- 
perfiuity  of  its  fubje^s.  Opinion  will  do  the  relt."*— 
*  Opinion  !'  faid  the  emperor. —  *  Yes,  opinion,'  replied 
B-;lifarius:  *  that,  and  that  only,  without  conftraint  and 
violence,  will  arrange  ail  things  in  their  proper  order ; 

A  philofopher  at  Athens  I'ound  a  treafure  that  had  been  hid 
In  his  ground.  He  wrote  to  the  err.peror  T'  aj  m,  <  I /a'-ve  fijjrJ  a 
trccfure.''  Trajan  aniwe-ed,  that  he  had  no'hing  to  do  but  to  enjoy 
it.  "'/f  h  too  >ru:b  for  a ^biloyjUcr to  uje,''  replied  the  other.  <  Then 
make  a  wrong  ule  ot"  it,'  (M  the  jriDce.  Akxaader  Sevcrus 
tfegught  the  fanje.  apd 


ICS  BELISARIUS. 

sr.d  it  is  thence  alone  that  we  are  to  expe8:  a  revolutioa 
in  the  manners.' 

*  A  revolution  of  this  fi;^rt  appears  difficult  to  you  ; 
but  it  depends  entirely  upon  tlit  will  and  the  example  of 
the  fovertign.  Let  him  be  equal  and  impartial  to  merit; 
let  the  man  of  modeft  relerve  and  fimplicity  of  manners 
be  fure  of  the  beft  reception  at  court  ;  let  the  piince  pro- 
claim his  contempt  of  oilentatious  expence  and  ema- 
culating  luxuries  j  let  hhn  behold  with  an  eye  of  difdain 
the  (laves  of  luxury  ;  let  him  view  with  regards  of  cheer- 
fulnefs  and  refpefl  the  men  who  labour  for  the  public 
good,  and  the  c^urt  will  Toon  take  the  tone  of  fimple 
manner,  ennobled  by  wii'dcm  and  frugality.  ,  Ofttritation 
will  no  longer  be  honourable,  it  will  not  even  be  decent. 
A  becoming  auftcrity  of  lire  will  take  the  place  of  li- 
centiGuinefs  ;  every  thing  frivolous  will  give  way  to  wif- 
dom;  peifonal  merit  will  be  the  bell  letter  of  recomm.en- 
dation,  and  pomp  and  vanity  will  be  Ictt  the  empty  plea- 
lures  of  ielf-appiaufe.  Oh,  my  friends  !  how  rapid  would 
be  their  fall  1  You  know  how  docile  and  imitative  tiiC 
metropolis  is  5  how  eafy  to  be  moulded  to  the  example  of 
the  court !  That  which  glows  into  elleem  is, Icon  in  fash- 
ion. The  good  old  frugality  once  reftored,  dlfinterefttd- 
nefs  would  fellow,  and  bring  in  her  train  heroic  man- 
ners. The  m.an  of  ability  to  be  ufeful,  perceiving  inor- 
dinate defjres  no  longer  in  vogue,  and  freed  from  debaf- 
ing  wants  of  luxury,  would  foon  find  the  fentiments  of  ^ 
honour  taking  root  in  h:s  heart  5  the  love  of  his  country, 
and  an  ardour  for  glory,  would  warm  thebreaft  of  free- 
dom, and  emulation  would  kindle  up  its  generous  flame.. 
Alas!  did  the  fovereign  know  his  afcendant  over  the 
minds  of  men,  with  what  facility  he  can  mould  them  to 
his  will,  he  would  enjoy  it  as  his  fweetcft  power,  his  bell 
and  m  It  refpe6table  pjerogative  j  and  yet  it  is  the  only  re- 
gal attribute  of  which  he  is  entirely  ignorant. 

<  By  what  influence,'  laid  Jultinan,  *  fliall  the  fove- 
regn  be  able  to  control  a  talte  for  amufement,  the  love 
ot  pleafure,  and  the  lull  of  money  ?  Of  what  conlequence 

is  it  to  him,  whofe  eveiy  icniQ  is  intoxicated  with  vo- 
I  luptuo'ufnel's, 


EELISARIUS.  rC9 

iuptuoufnef?,  whether  the  court  approves  or  cenfurei  his 
conduwl  ?    V/ill  the  prince  be  able  to  reitrain  tl.e  man 
whofe  power  of  wealth  is  great,  from  making  his  own 
ufe  of  the  indurtriotis  ?    Can  he  hinder  him  from  beii-;^ 
encompafkd  v/ith  delight?  from  m'iking  the  arts  fub- 
fervient  to  his  gratifications  r' — *  No,"'  replied  Belifarius : 
*  but  if  it  be  agreeable  to  the  fovcreign,  he  c-n  brand  et- 
feminacy  with  fhame,  and  indolence  with  contempt :  he 
can  exclude  diiripation,  vice,    and   incapacity,  however 
wealthy,  from  the  nrft  offices  of  the  ftate.     It  will  de- 
pend upon  him  to  make  the  true  comforts  of  life,  ajvi 
every  rational  enjovTTient,  the  fure  attendants  of  a  gocd  and 
refpe6table  character  :  he  can  give  them  to  merit;  and  he 
can  moreover  take  from  luxury  all  its  pride  and  oftenta- 
tion,  till  it  feels  itielf  the  object  of  contem.pt.     Tiiis 
will  almclf  complete  the  work  :  for  when  luxury  is  thus 
reduced,  honehy  v/ill  no  longer  be  deprcfied,  nor  will 
virtue  futfer  indignity.     There  will  be  other  rewards, 
of  which  riches  tan  never  be  the  fubl^itute.     The  efteem 
of  the  publiCi  dignities,  and  honours,  v/ill  be  the  price 
of  merit.     Gold  will  net  be  able   to  cover  over  fliame 
and  infam.y,  and  the  little  fpirit  will  flutter  in   vain  in 
pomp  and  Iplendid  ornament.     Believe  me,  m.y  good 
friends,  take  pride  ham  luxury,  and  ycudiiaiTii  it.     All 
its  refined  knfations  are  aticiied  j  it  fubfifts  entirely  upon 
the  opinion  mankir.d  entertains  of  its  gaiety  and   hap- 
pineis.     Subdue  that  opinion^  and  you  reduce  riches  to 
their  true  ftandard.     If  they  aftire  to  honour  and  reai 
value,  they  m.uft  be  ennobled  by  the  ufe  made  of  them. 
It  is  impoflible  for  luxury  to  be  generous  j  avarice  grows 
upon  its  wants  j  and  that  very  avarice  is  compounded  of 
all  the  pailionsthat  are  uiuaily  hired  for  ceremony.     But 
it  the  nioft  ardent  pafuons,  fuch  as  pride,  ambition,  and 
love  itftlt,  (tor  love  always  is  in  th^;  train  of  pomp  anc* 
vain  gloi-y)  are  no  longer  attached  to  magnificence  and 
oftentatiou,   ycu  m.ay  then  compute  how  r'.ie  eftim.ate  of 
luxuiy  is  diminifned,  and  avarice  lofes  of  its  force. 

*  The  real  advantages  of  wealth,  llicii  as  convenience, 
accommcdiition,  thedeligh'S  of  afduence,  i^uist  indepen- 
K  d^i-vce, 


no  BELISARIUS. 

tlence,  -and  thit  fuperiority  which  fortune  claims  over 
thofe  who  are  retained  in  its  feivice:  all  thefe  are  more 
than  lufficient  to  ftrike  a  deep  impreffion  upon  little^ 
minds  j  infomuch  that  I  am  tar  from  hoping  or  fearing 
the  downfal  of  arts  which  have  luxury  for  their  fup- 
port. 

*  But  let  dlftlnftions  and  honours  be  once  disjoined  from 
wealth,  and  thence  the  fouls  which  nature  has  endowed 
with  energy  and  fplrit,  with  exalted  virtues  and  gene- 
rous paiTions,  will  look  down  with  difdain  upon  the  pet- 
ty enjoyments  of  vanity,  and  will  feek  eliewhere  the  re- 
wards of  tame  and  honour.' 

<  The  glare  of  affluence/  faid  Tiberius,  *  will  never 
be  eclipfed  in  an  opulent  and  flourilliing  ftateby  the  fru- 
gal fyltem  of  barren  and  unprofitable  honoiu-s.  The 
eyes  of  mankind  are  dazzled  by  the  luftre  of  wealth  j  and 
dignities,  nay  majelty  itfelf,  are  obliged  to  borrow  thence 
their  moit  ftriking  decorations.' 

<  I  fliould  be  glad  to  know,'  replied  Belifarius,  '  of 
two  eminent  men,  which,  according  to  your  ideas,  gave 
the  greatell  dignity,  and  even  majeity,  to  the  Roman  fe- 
rate,  the  rich  LucuUus  or  the  indigent  Cato  ?' — The 
quellion  quite  overpowered  Tiberius. — *  I  allude  now,' 
continued  the  hero,  ♦  to  an  a:ra  of  luxury  ;  and  yet  in  that 
very  ptricxi,  with  what  veneration  did  the  Ibund  uncor- 
rupted  pnrt  of  the  common- wealth  (I  mean  the  people) 
recal  in  their  minds  the  days  of  ancient  fimplicity,  when 
Rome  was  free,  virtuous,  and  poor ;  when  the  land  of 
her  Icanty  territory  was  tilled  by  the  conqueror's  hand, 
and  the  plough  was  crowned  with  triumphant  laurel  ? 
Let  us  do  jultice  to  the  people,  and  relf  allured,^  that  a 
wife  fovereign,  incircled  with  warriors  and  with  pa- 
triots void  of  arrogance,  but  full  of  years  and  honours, 
will  exhibit  to  his  people  a  m. ore  refpefl able  and  honour- 
able fcene  than  a  prince  diffolved  in  luxury  and  fur- 
lounded  by  a  train  of  glittering  vafuls.  It  is  a  maxim 
ever  inculcated  by  perlons  in  high  offices,  that  to  linke 
the  puhlvc  with  ideas  of  dignity,  their  rank  ought  never 
to  be  adorned  with  pomp  and  magnificence.     They  are 

generally 


BFLISARIU3.  Ill 

generally  botli  fuperinduced  j  but  they  refemtie  a  coat, 
whole  amplitude  leives  to  cover  the  dct'ecls  of  the  body ; 
and  this  turniihes  us  with  an  additional  reafon  why  the 
whole  wardrobe  ot  outward  fhew  and  I'plendcur,  which 
thus  dilguiies  men  and  confounds  the  judgment,  fhould 
be  totally  thrown  afide.  When  virtue  diiplays  itlelf  ta 
the  public  eye,  like  a  wreftle  in  the  amphitheatre,  her 
form  and  vigour  will  be  better  diftinguifhed  5  and  it  vice, 
incapacity,  and  meanneis,  ever  prefume  to  enter  the  lilH, 
they  will  Itand  more  confefTed  to  view,  and  will  the  fooner 
be  covered  with  confufion. 

«  It  is  another  advantage  refulting  from  fimple  manners 
in  the  eminent  itations,  that  the  burden   of  rewarding 
merit  is  made  lighter  to  the  public,  and  the  ftate  makes 
a  laving  of  expences,  that  would  be  rendered  ruinous  by 
the  inlatiable  repacity  of  ambition.     A  fenhble  diltribu- 
tion  of  honours  will  difpenle  with  the  necellity  of  mag- 
nificent prefents  :  and  frugality,   even  in   the  grants  of 
honours,  will  make  the  prince  IHll  a  better  oeconomilf  for 
the  public  good.     That  is  the  great  end  we  (liouid  havi 
in  view.     To  reftrain  the  rich  from  launching  into  a  pro- 
fufion  of  expence  is  not  the  point  j  prodigality  is   a  fire 
that  foon  confumes  the  materials  it  lublilTs  upon.     The 
prime  object  is  to  preferve  the  men,  who,  unprovided 
with  every  thing  but  their  talents,  their  knowledge,  and 
their  virtues,  may  be  inclined  to  confecrate  thtmielves 
to  the  fervice  of  their  country,  from  being  tainted  by  the 
i\veets  of  luxury,  and  corrupted  by  the  luit  of  gold.     The 
brighteft  diftin<51ions,  luch  as  are  never  profaned  by  for- 
did milapplications,    (hould  be  reserved  by  perfons  of 
their  temper  and  genius.     I  can  fay  of  myfelf,  that  I 
ferved  my  prince  with  all  due  zeal,  and  with  confiderable 
fucceis  ;  and  my  own  feelings  inform  mc  how  vile  ?.  thing  is 
gold  when  compared  with  the  oaken  branch  snd  the  laurel, 
thofe  Iweet  remembrancers  of  the  Ibvereign's  affection  and 
efteem.     Moreover  that  efteem,  which  is  fo  grateful  to 
the  honeft  heart,  efpecially  when  feconded  by  the  voica 
of  public  approbation,  the  pruice  vs-ill  do  v^'ell  to  referve 
for  adions  of  real  worth  and  utility,_taking  care,  with  a 
K  z  "  calm 


211  EELISARIUS, 

calm  ciigr/ity  of  refolution,  never  to  proftitute  them  for 
undertakings  vain  in  their  nature,  frivolous,  or  dange- 
rous. That  will  be  his  true  frugality.  To  maintain 
this  properly,  it  will  indeed  demand  a  firm  unlhaken  con- 
ftancy  of  mind  ;  a  fpirit  of  juftice,  always  on  its  guard 
againft  kdudion  or  furprife;  a  determination  of  the  will 
that  never  flu5luates,  but  checks  even  a  rifmg  hope  that 
it  w,ll  foften  into  compliance.  This  great  and  dignified 
character  will  be  acquired,  nay,  it  will  be  fuppcrtcd,  if 
a  real  love  of  virtue  animate  the  fovereign's  breaft.  In 
tiiat  cafe,  his  opinion  will  be  the  opinion  of  the  public, 
and  his  example  will  decide  and  fix  the  national  character.' 
*  Shall  I  fairly  own,'  faid  Tiberius,  *  a  difficulty  that 
remains  with  me  ?  At  the  rate  you  have  gone  on,  the 
court,  from  whence  the  royal  favour,  intrigue,  and  lux- 
ury, zve  difcarded,  will  grow  rather  ferious  and  gloomy  ; 

and  pofiibly  then  a  young  prince' '  Oh  !  I  underftand 

you  J  that  the  prince  may  want  amufement  is  your  fear  j 
but,  my  dear  friend,  I  have  not  faid  that  the  talk  of  go- 
verning is  a  mere  patllme.  And  yet,  even  amidilthe  fo- 
licitudes  of  royalty,  there  may  be  many  hours  of  the 
(w;reteft  enjoyment.  The  mlnifter,  for  inftance,  may  re- 
port to  him  tne  progrefs  of  agriculture  in  places  and  pro- 
vinces, which  before  were  melancholy  fcenes  of  idlenefs, 
poverty,  and  dilfrcis  :  may  he  not  then  fay  to  himfelf, 
an  R&i  of  my  will  has  now  made  millions  happy  ?  His 
fages  of  juftice  may  inform  him,  that  by  one  of  his  laws 
the  inheritance  of  an  orphan  has  been  wrefted  from  the 
griping  hand  of  hard-hearted  avarice :  may  he  not  lay 
with  exultation,  heaven  be  praifed  !  I  have  been  the  pro- 
te6f  or  of  the  poor.  From  the  war-ofHce  he  will  not  re- 
ceive coniblation  of  lb  pure  and  unmixed  a  nature.  But 
when  he  is  told  with  what  zeal  and  generous  ardour  his 
faithful  fubjeds  flied  their  blood  in  the  caufe  of  their  fo- 
vcreign  and  their  countiy,  regret  and  pity  will  fo  com- 
pound themfelves  in  mixed  femations  of  love,  tendernefs, 
and  gratitude,  that  the  tears  of  humanity  will  delight 
him.  In  (hort,  the  vows  and  prayers  of  his  own  illuf- 
triouo  rera,  and  the  bleflingsf  of  future  ages,  wliich  the 

confcious 


BEL1SARIU5.  115 

nbriftloiis  Imagination  will  anticipate,  all  crowd  together 
in  his  brealt,  and  are  the  Iblid  plealures  of  a  fovucian. 
And  will  notthefe  luffice  ?  Will  there  be  IHU  a  void  Jeit 
aching  in  his  bolbm  ?  Like  the  kings  of  Perila,  in  an- 
cient times,  he  mavvifit  the  provinces  of  his  empire,  diil 
tinguilhing  with  his  favours  thofe  who  promote  indullry 
and  agriculture,  plentj'  and  population ;  while  pride,  in- 
humanity, and  indolence,  for  working  the  contrary  mii- 
chief,  will  be  lure  to  meet  the  marks  of  his  difpleafure. 
At  Byzantium,  as  well  as  at  Rome,  the  public  granaries 
have  been  vifited  by  the  emperors  j  would  it  be  a  degi  ad- 
iing  condefcenfion  it  they  made  a  progreis  into  the  coun- 
try, to  know  with  certainty  that  un(kr  the  lowly  roof  of 
the  peaiant  bread  has  not  been  warning  for  his  helplels 
children?  Alas!   how  unindruftcd  inuft  that  prince  be, 
in  regard  to  his  duty  and  his  interelf,  who  fuffers  a  va- 
cuity in  his  time  !  We  muft  not  imagine  tlrat  a  prince, 
in  his  moments  of  tranquillity,  when  he  is  detached  from 
tlie  caufe  and  duties  of  his  rank,  is  to  remain  arranger 
to  the  iweet  fenlations  of  domeitic  happineis  and  fecial 
pleafure.     He  will  have  his  lelefl  friends  j  and,  unbend- 
ing himfelf  with  them,  he  will  talfe  the  charms  of  ratio- 
nal delight.     The  man  of  virtue  who  wants  little,   and 
is  therelore  eafily  contented,  diCplays  in  his  converfation 
that  lerenity  of  iober  joy,  which  fprings  from  peace  and 
inward  harmony :  heart- felt  eafe,  to  which  pride  impor- 
tuned by  craving  wants,  and  vice  for  ever  fuffering  the 
corrohons  ofremorfe,  are  utter  ftrangers.     An  honelt 
mind,  it  muff  be  acknowledged,  will  find  but  little  leiibre 
to  relax  itlclf  from  the  duties  of  an  important  office  j  but 
the  moments  of  vacation  will  be  delightful.     Remorfe, 
ambition,  and  fear,  are  banifhed  from  the  hallowed  hour. 
The  court,  where  uprightness,  truth,  and  virtue,   may 
walk  fecure,  without  fearmg  envy  that  lies  in   ambwlh, 
and  without  apprehending  ludden  difgrace  from  the  whirn 
of  the  prince,  will  not,  perhaps,  be  the  moft  brilliant: 
court,  but  it  will  be  the  happieil  in  the  world.' — <  It 
will  not  be  crowded,'  faid  the  emperor. — *  And  why  not  ?' 
rcfumed  Belifarius.— *  The  little  ambitious  fry,  that  love 
K  3  to 


114  BELISARIUS. 

to  iliine  in  eafe  and  fplendid  vanity,  will  not  flutter  m 
the  circle  ;  but  to  recompenle  ti^at  lofs,  nnen  ot  probity 
andof  ufeful  talents  will  form  a  numerous  party.  I  fay 
numerous,  my  friend  Tiberius,  and  I  fay  it  in  honour  of 
human  nature.  When  virtue  is  in  fi'-Hnon,  the  feeds  of 
it  will  be  difclofed  in  every  heart.  Public  eftimation  is 
a  kind  of  fun  in  the  moral  world,  that  warms,  that  ani- 
mates, and  calls  forth  the  latent  principles  of  truth  and 
honour.  When  the  foul  is  funk  in  fioth  and  languor,  it 
is  not  the  time  to  delineate  its  true  chai-adfer.  Is  it  to 
be  expected  that  ayoungman,  who  has  heard  nothing  from 
his  father  but  the  panegyric  of  money  ;  whofe imagination 
has  be-.-n  dazzled  with  the  luftre  of  gold  ;  who  in  cities 
and  in  villages  has  feen  nothing  fo  abjeft  and  defplfed  as 
labour  and  induftry  j  who  hus  been  taught  by  experience 
that  pride  can  creep,  that  ambition  will  crouch,  that  law 
will  bend,  the  road  tc  honours  be  thrown  open,  and  court 
favour  difpenfe  its  fmiles  at  the  beck  and  command  of 
riches  ;  that  they,  and  they  only,  can  proteft  him  from 
injuftice,  or  exercife  the  feverell  tyranny  ;  that  they  adorn 
and  embtllifh  vice,  ennoble  meannefs,  and  fuperfede  ta- 
lents, ability,  and  virtue  j  is  it  to  be  expe6ted,  I  fay, 
that  a  young  man  educated  in  this  train  of  thinking,  fliall 
be  able  to  draw  the  line  between  good  and  evil,  virtue  and 
lelf-intereft  ?  Let  a  different  do6frine  prevail;  let  the  fo- 
vereign,  that  fountain  of  manners,  fct  the  fafhion  of  the 
heart;  let  education  and  habits  of  vii'tue teach  the  value, 
the  necelTity  of  felf-  approbation  ;  let  them  awaken  the 
Jove  of  honed:  fame,  and  a  defire  to  win  the  applaufe  of 
good  men  ;  let  the  foul  expatiate  abroad  to  gather  the 
fuifrages  of  the  prefent  age,  and  to  foreftal  the  praife  of 
future  times ;  let  fair  renown  be  next  to  virtue  the  higheft 
and  greatelt  good  ;  let  zeal  for  the  moral  charafter  make 
lionour  dearer  than  life,  and  fliame  more  dreadful  than 
even  annihilation  ;  let  thefe  principles  beonceeftabliflied, 
znd  it  will  foon  be  found  how  feeble  is  the  influence  of 
fordid  views  and  mean  defires.  Oh!  my  good  friends  ! 
where  would  now  be  the  names  of  Drclus,  Regulus,  and 
the  CaLos  had  they  not  been  fouls  of  fire,  infpired  by  ho- 
1  nour. 


BELISARIUS.  115 

nour,  and  replete  with  virtue  ?  To  excite  an  emulation 
ot  their  example,  there  muft  be  an  inftitution  founded  in 
wil'dom,  and  real  encouragement,  to  make  men  run  the 
bright  career  of  glory.  It  were  vain  nnd  idle  to  require 
of  the  fathers  of  families,  that  they  fliall  train  up  their 
children  in  the  paths  of  virtue,  if  that  very  virtue  be  left 
to  languiOi  under  difgrace,  and  hear  the  fpurns  of  trium- 
phant vice.  To  re-eltabli(h  order,  and  give  the  manners 
the  ftrength  and  beauty  of  fyftem,  all  that  is  gccd  in  life 
muft  be  appropriated  to  virtue ;  evil  fhould  be  the  portion 
of  iniquity,  and  every  advantange  affigned  to  juftice  and 
to  honour.  Let  government  proceed  thus  fyllematically, 
and  it  will  readily  ftrike  your  obiervation  how  the  man- 
ners will  fecond  the  laws,  and  gain  ftrength  and  enforce- 
ment from  the  popular  opinion.  Hopes  and  tears,  rewards 
and  puniflimejits,  dignities  andditgrace,  thofe  are  the  en- 
gines that  policy  (hould  let  in  motion  on  the  fide  of  virtue 
and  civil  liberty  j  by  managing  thefe  properly,  the  world 
may  be  governed  at  difcretion. 

*  But  to  keep  more  clofely  to  the  point  :  by  proud  and 
oftentatious  manners  the  great  are  rendered  infolent  and 
avaricious  ;  from  fimple  manners  fpring  the  oppofite  qua- 
lities of  moderation,  juftice,  and  humanity:"  and  thus  the 
leading  interefts  of  vice  being  lifted  on  the  fide  of  virtue, 
men  will  adopt  the  latter  with  the  fame  Ipirit  that  attach- 
ed them  to  the  former.' 

*  You  have  given  us  a  pleafing  reverie,'  fald  Juftinlan, 
*  an  agreeable  and  flattering  dream  '.' — '  Far  from  it,'  re- 
plied Belifarius  ;  *  to  think  ot  making  intereft  and  felf- 
love  the  fpi  ings  of  human  actions  is  by  no  means  a  dream. 
Call  to  miind  by  what  methods  was  formed,  in  the  in- 
fancy of  the  republic,  that  glorious  fenatorial  order,  in 
which  fo  many  ardent  virtues,  fuch  heioic  patriotifm, 
blazed  forth  upon  the  world.  To  what,  think  you,  was 
it  owing  ?  It  was  becaufe  there  was  nothing  at  Rome  fu- 
perior  to  greatnefs  of  foul ;  it  was  becaufe  public  vene- 
ration was  attached  to  virtuous  manners,  and  glory  was 
the  hero's  fure  reward.  Such,  in  all  periods  of  the  world, 
have  been  the  great  fprings  and  movers  of  the  human 
heart,  <  I  am 


iiS  EELISARIUS. 

<  I  am  not  now  to  learn  that  inveterate  habits,  andpar^ 
^icularly  tlie  habits  of  defpotic  pride,  give  way  unwil- 
lingly to  the  moft  powerful  n^otives.  But  let  it  be  ob- 
ferved,  that  for  one  lonof  piofligacy  and  corruption,  who 
would  held  out\vithobftinacy,infpiteoffhame,  difgrace, 
and  infamy,  there  are  a  thouland  who  would  yield  at  once 
to  the  control  of  reafon,  and,  having  glory  for  their  in- 
citement, would  walk,  contentedly  in  the  paths  of  honour 
and  virtue.  Let  me  purfue  the  confequences  of  this  idea. 
I  fuppofe  the  men  of  virtue  are  placed  at  the  helm  of  go- 
vernment. I  will,  in  that  caie,  anfv7er  with  my  life  for 
the  prompt  obedience,  the  fidelity,  and  the  public  fpirit 
of  a  people,  who  are  no  longer  bent  under  the  yoke  of  op- 
preflicn,  but,  ihllead  of  being  harafled  by  little  tyranrs, 
find  their  lives,  thiir  property,  and  their  liberty,  fecure 
under  the  proteftion  of  the  laws.  The  ftate  then  begins 
to  raife  its  head ;  concord  prevails  through  all  claflcs  of 
the  community  ;  the  plan  of  Conftantine,  built  on  a  fandy 
bottom,  lays  a  deeper  foundation;  and  from  civil  union  I 
fee  fpring  up  emulation,  fortitude,  zeal  for  the  public  good, 
and  v/ith  thefe  that  weight  among  the  nations  which  made 
Rome  the  miltrels  of  the  world.' 

While  Belifarius  thus  difcourfed,  Juftlnlan  beheld,  in 
filent  admiration,  the  enthufiaftic  ardour  with  which  the 
good  old  man,  forgetting  the  infirmities  of  age,  his  mile- 
ries,  and  his  misfortunes,  triumphed  in  the  idea  of  ren- 
dering his  country  flourifhing  and  happy. — '  It  is  gene- 
rous,' faid  the  emperor,  *  to  feel  fo  warm  a  concern  for  an 
ungrateful  people.' — *  My  friends,'  replied  the  hero,  *  I 
/hould  welcome  and  bids,  as  the  molt  glorious  ot  my  life, 
the  day  on  which  I  (hould  be  thus  accolted  :  "  Belifarius, 
we  are  going  now  to  let  your  blood  gufh  at  every  vein, 
but  the  price  of  it  will  be  the  accomplifhment  of  allyour 
wifhes." 

His  amiable  daughter,  Eudoxa,  now  came  to  inform 
him  that  his  fupper  was  ready.  He  went  in,  and  fethim- 
felf  at  table  :  Eudoxa,  with  a  graceful  air  ofmodeftyand 
dignity,  ferved  up  to  her  father  a  plate  of  pulfe,  and  feat- 
ed  herieif  by  him. — *  And  is  that  your  fupper  ?'  faid  the 

emperor. 


EELISARIUS.  117 

emperor. — *  It  is,'  replica  Biiifarius  ;  *  it  was  the  frugal 
meal  of  Fabricius,  andFabnciuswas,  atlealt,  my  equal.' 
..  *  Let  us  depart/  faid  JuiUnian  to  Tiberius  j '  at  a  fight 
like  this  I  find  myfelf  covered  with  fiiame  and  confufion.* 
The  court,  in  hopes  of  diffipating  the  cloud  which  they 
perceived  hung  over  t!ie  emperor's  mind,  had  prep?.red  a 
fcene  of  feltivity.  He  did  not  condefcend  to  honour  it 
with  his  prefence.  At  table,  the  idea  that  occupied  his 
thoughts  v^as,  the  iiipper  of  the  old  general ;  and  as  he 
withdrew — '  Belilariusis  happier  than  I  am,'  faid  he  to 
himielfj  *  for  he  lays  h'.m  down  on  his  pillow  v/ithout 
remorfe  to  break  his  quiet.' 

CHAP.  XIV. 
LIVE  but  in  his  prefence,'  fuid  the  emperor  next 


I 


day  to  Tiberius,  *  as  they  were  on  their  way  tc  vific 
the  hero  j  the  compofure  and  ferenity  of  his  mind  tranf- 
i'ufe  themielves  into  mine.  But  as  loon  as  I  leave  him, 
the  clouds  which  in  his  converfation  were  diiperfcd,  col- 
lect themfclves  again,  and  the  former  gloom  returns  upon 
me.  Methought  yellerday  I  perceived,  in  his  delinea- 
tion of  manners  and  principles;  the  ponrait  of  human  hap- 
pinefs  ;  and  now  it  is  a  cauvafs  prefencmg  an  alfemblage 
of  bold  and  random  colours,  without  arrangement  or  de- 
iign.  Wnile  he  fpeaks,  every  thmg  appears  eafy,  and 
now  I  am  involved  in  a  fcene  of  difficulties.  In  thefirll 
place,  overloaded  as  the  empire  is  wich  immoderate  ex- 
pences,  the  hero's  fcheme  for  makmg  the  burden  lighter 
to  the  poor !  his  plan  for  new-modeiling  upon  a  better 
ellabliihment,  an  aimy  well  nigh  annihilated  by  a  war  of 
twenty  years  !  and  then  the  multiplicity  of  taxes  to  be  re- 
duced to  one  general  impoft,  light  anl  fi.nple  !' — '  He 
has  feen  the  fubjecf  in  all  its  points  ot  view,'  laid  Tibe- 
rius, *  and  will,  I  dare  fay,  remove  your  difficulties.  Ac- 
quaint him  with  the  rcflcdlions  that  have  occurred  to  you."* 
The  converfation  was  accordingly  opened  with  a  Itate 
of  the  emperor's  reafonings  ;  and,  after  hearing  them  at- 
tentively— 'I  knew,'  faid  Belifarius,  *  that  I  ihould  ftart" 
in  your  mind  a  number  of  doubts  j  but  I  flatter  myl'elf  I 
.^all  be  able  to  remove  them  all.  *  The 


'  The  expences  of  the  court,  accordmg  to  my  plan,  ari? 
now  reduced.  We  have  banifhed  lux\iry  and  favouri- 
tifm.  Let  us  now  take  a  view  of  the  metropolis  5  and 
pray  tell  me  the  reafon  why  fuch  a  fA-arniof  inhabitants, 
lazy,  indolent,  and  almoll  without  number,  (hould  be  a 
burden  to  the  ftate  ?  The  corn  wliich  is  diftributed  among 
them  would  maintain  twenty  legions.*  It  was  in  order 
to  people  the  city,  and  make  it  emulate  Rome,  that  Con- 
iftantine  charged  himfelf  with  this  ruinous  expence.  But 
by  what  title  can  an  ufelefs  and  inactive  race  pretend  a 
light  to  be  thus  maintained  at  the  public  charge  ?  The 
Romans,  a  people  altogether  of  a  military  genius,  might 
well  claim  to  be  nouriflied,  even  in  the  time  of  profound 
peace,  by  the  fruits  of  their  conquefts ;  yet,  in  the  very 
height  of  their  fplendour  and  their  glory,  a  portion  of  land 
to  cultivate  was  all  they  required  ;  and  that  being  allot- 
ted by  the  ftate,  it  is  well  known  with  what  eagernefs  they 
ifllied  forth  to  the  labours  of  the  field.  But  with  us 
what  ufeful  end  is  anfwered  by  that  ever-craving  multi- 
tude that  befiege  the  gates  of  the  palace  ?  Was  it  with 
fuch  men  that  I  expelled  the  Huns,  thofe  ravagers  of 
Thrace  ?  The  city  fhould  retain  only  fuch  a  number  of 
inhabitants  as  can  find  due  employment  to  maintain  them- 
felves  \>y  their  indultry  j  the  reft  (hould  be  lent  forth  to 
colonife  in  different  parts  of  the  empire.  They  would  in- 
treafe  population,  and  fubfift  upon  the  fruits  of  their  la- 
bour. AgrJculture  is  the  feminary  of  foldiers  :  a  good 
and  ferviceable  militia  will  never  be  formed  out  of  a  lazy 
race,  who  a^e  contented  to  loiter  away  their  days  in  idle 
poverty.  Let  the  laws,  above  all  the  taxes,  be  reduced  to 
a  plan  of  fimpUcity  ;  and  the  militia  of  the  palace  will  be 
undone  by  infignificance.  What  an  immenfe  faving  may 
be  made  by  that  circumftance  need  not  be  mentioned.  ^ 

*  The  nioft  alarming  expence  of  government  is  main- 
tenance of  the  army.     But  even  that  expence  will  be  re- 

«  40;000  buftiels  per  day  :  tlic  bufhel,  modhn,  one  foot  fquare, 
and  four  inches  deep.  The  Roman  foot  was  ten  of  our  inchesi 
The  allowance  of  the  foldier  was  five  bulfiels  a  month,  or  the 
ftxth  of  a  bufhel  per  day  :  therefore  40,000  bolhels,  at  fix  men  to 
a  bufhel,  would  maintain  240,000  men.  duced 


EELISARIUS.  119 

duced  to  the  regular  body  of  the  legions  ;  for  the  veterans^ 
ellablifhed  in  colonies  upon  the  frontiers  of  the  empire, 
fubfift  by  their  own  induftry,  and  their  immunities  and 
exemptions  from  all  civil  offices  itand  in  the  nature  of 
pay.  The  colonies,  the  mafter-ftroke  of  Conftantine'a 
genius  and  policy,  are  not  as  yet  annihilated  5  to  make  them 
revive  in  all  the  fpiritof  their  original  defign  depends  up- 
on the  will  of  the  prince  ;  for,  infaft,  the  number  of  gal- 
lant foldiers,  who  are  now  drooping  into  poverty  and  in- 
dolence, defire  no  better  reward  than  to  be  lent  to  culti- 
vate and  defend  the  lands  they  have  acquii-ed  by  conqueft. 
The  fame  may  be  ailerted  in  regard  to  the  troops  which 
have  been  fettled  upon  the  borders  of  rivers*.  Tho!e 
places,  now  improved  and  cultivated,  ^epay  with  abun= 
dance  the  induftr}'  of  the  labourer, 

*  Whole  fwarms  of  barbarians  have  been  conftantly 
crowding  about  our  frontiers,  in  hopes  of  gaining  a  fet- 
tlementf  in  our  provinces  ;  and  occafionally  they  have 
been  admitted,  without  fufficient  precaution ;(:  j  but  the 
danger  confifted  in  admitting  too  large  a  number.  Let 
foreign  lettlers,  therefore,  not  be  embodied  together,  but 
difperfed  into  diltant  places,  and  let  the  walle  and  uncul- 
tivated lands  be  allotted  to  them.  Of  thefe  we  have, 
alas  !  too  manylj ;  but  a  vigilant  and  active  govirnment 
would  foon  naturalize  the  fovereign  intruders,  and  incor- 
porate them  with  the  reft  of  the  ftate  as  ui'eful  citizens 
and  well-affefled  foldiers. 

*  The  legions  therefore  are  now  the  only  remaining 
burthen  to  the  ftate ;  and  the  tribute  which  we  draw  trora 
Egypt,  from  Africa,  and  Sicily,  would  well  fupport  three 
times  the  number  the  government  ever  had  in  its  fer- 
vice§.     It  is  not  refepefting  this  article  that  parfimony 

is 
»  They  were  called  nperjes.    Alex?jider  Severus  firft  eftablilhei 
them. 

t  Thefe  fettlerswere  called  Ldeti,  and  their  lands  L^.'jV  farms. 
X  As  the  Gcths  under  the  emperor  Valent 
li  The  lands  of  the  Fi 3  c  u s ,  or  treafary,  were    immenfe.  The 
punifhment  of  moft  offences  was  a  Confiscation  of  property. 
§  Sicily  paid  a  tribute  to  the  Romans  of  i^xoCyOCQ  bulhels  cf 

com- 


Ii(5  BELISARIUS. 

is  required  concerning  ihcir  maintenance*.  The  ftate  may 
be  at  cal'c,  but  it  cannot  be  too  ftrenuous  in  its  endea- 
vours to  nx  them  upon  a  good  and  regular  eftabifhment: 
There  was  a  time  when  admifiion  into  the  legions  was 
an  honour  rel'erved  for  the  citizens  of  Romef ,  and  was 
warmly  difputed  by  the  young  men,  who  were  eager 
candidates  for  it.  The  time  is  now  no  more,  but 
it  fhoiild  be  renewed  ;  and  then,  what  may  not  be  achieved 
by  men  who  have  both  honour  and  bread  !' 

*  Men  are  no  longer  the  fame,'  faid  the  emperor.— 
^  The  nature  of  men  is  the  fame,'  replied  Belifarius; 
*  and  nothing  is  changed  but  opinion,  that  fovereign  mif- 
treis  of  the  manners.  In  fa6l,  we  only  want  the  foul  of 
the  great  man,  his  genius,  and  his  example,  to  expand 
themfelves  abroad,  and  fix  the  principles  and  the  man- 
ners. From  a  million  of  initances  that  fupport  this  pro- 
pofition,  take  a  hngle  fa6l,  which  is,  in  my  eftim.ation, 
worthy  of  the  old  republic  in  its  greateft  period,  and 
evinces  plainly,  that  in  all  ages  the  virtue  of  mankind 
has  difplayed  itfelf  in  proportion  to  the  demand  made  for 
it  by  thole  who  were  fufficiently  {killed  in  the  powers  of 
human  nature. 

*  Rome  was  taken  by  Totila.  One  of  our  brave  orTicers, 
wliofe  name  was  Paul  had  fallied  out  of  the  city  at  tiie 
head  of  a  fmall  party  and  entrenched  himfelf  on  the  emi- 
nence, where  he  was  lurrounded  by  the  enemy.  Famine, 
it  was  not  doubted,  would  foon  reduce  him  to  the  nccef- 
fity  of  furrendering;  and,  in  fa6f,  he  was  in  want  of  every- 
thing. In  this  exigence,  he  addrefled  himieli  to  his  foi- 
diers: — **  My  friends,"  laid  he,  *'  we  mult  either  peri/li, 
or  furvive  In  llavery.  You,  I  know,  will  not  hefitate 
about  the  choice  j  but  it  is  not  enough  toperifii,  we  muft 

cornj  Egypt,  21,600,000;  and  Africa,  43,2005000 :  at  the  rate 
of  (Ix  men  to  abufhel  there  was  a  daily  maintenance  for  i, 200,000 
men. 

*  The  monthly  pay  of  a  foldier  was  400  afTes,  value  25  filv;:r 
denarii,  equal  to  one  r.timnius  cureus:  The  ajfn  was  an  ounce  of 
copper, the  filverd^nai'ius  weighted  one,  and  the  aureus  140 grains. 

t  This  honour  wasalfo  eagerly  difputed  by  the  youth  of  the 
provinces,  who  had  the  rights  of  the  city.  perifli 


BELISARIUS.  121 

perifh  nobly.  The  coward  nny  rehgn  himfelf  to  be  con- 
luined  by  tamine,  he  may  linger  in  niiiery,  and  wait  in 
a  dilpiritcd  condition,  tor  the  triendly  hand  ot  death.  But 
we  who  have  been  Ichocled,  and  educated  in  the  field  of 
battle,  we  are  not  new  to  Itarn  the  proper  ufe  ot  our 
arms  }  we  know  how  to  caive  for  ourielves  an  honour- 
able death.  Yes,  let  us  die,  but  not  inglorious  and  un- 
revenged  j  Jet  us  die  covered  with  the  blood  ot  cur  ene- 
mies, that  our  fall,  inftead  of  raifmgthe  fmile  of  deliberate 
malice,  may  give  them  caufe  to  mourn  over  the  victory 
that  ur.dces  us.  Can.  we  wl-fl;  to  loiter  a  few  years  moriS- 
in  lite,  when  we  know  that  a  very  few  muft  bring  us  to 
our  graves?  The  limits  of  human  life  cannot  be  enlarged 
by  nature,  but  glory  can  extend  them,  and  give  a  fecond 
life." 

*  He  finiflied  his  harangue  :  the  fcldiery  declared  the-r 
refolution  to  tollow  h.m.  They  began  their  march  j  the 
intic-pid  countenance  with  which  they  advanced  fcon  de- 
noted to  the  enemy  a  def  gn  to  give  battle  with  all  the 
courage  cf  the  laif  defpair.  Without  waiting,  therefore, 
to  receive  the  attack  of  this  illuftrious  band,  the  Goths 
thought  proper  to  compound,  by  an  immediate  grant  of 
lift  and  liberty.' 

*  I  can  count,  my  friends,  upon  at  leaft  two  miUlons 
in  the  empire  capable  of  the  lame  magnsnlmity,  if 
another  Paul  were  at  the  head  of  tt:tn\.  We  can  reckon 
ado  lome  chiefs  of  this  illuftrious  clafs  j  ourvi^^ories  have 
pointed  them  out.  W^hile  fuch  refources  remain,  let  us 
notdcfpair  ot  the  commonwealth.  Are  you  kill  to  betold 
to  what  a  degree  of  proi'perity,  affluence,  and  population, 
the  force  of  the  Itate  may  be  increaicd  ?  Rccal  to  mind 
the  condition  in  ancient  times,  I  will  not  fay  of  Gaul, 
which  we  meanly  abandoned*,  but  of  Spain,  Greece, 
Italy,  the  republic  of  Carthage,  and  the  various  realms  of 
Afia,  from  the  banks  of  the  Nile  to  the  Euxine  fhore. 
Rtcolie6t  that  Romulusf ,  who  in  the  infancy  of  the  ftate 

♦  In  order  to  deliver  Rome  and  Italy  from  the  Goths,  the  em- 
peror ceded  to  thern  the  faireft  provinces  of  Gaul. 

t  TIip  legio.iat  tliat  titns  conliikd  of  3000  foot  and  3CO  horfe, 
L  had 


lae  EELISARIUS. 

had  but  one  legion,  was  able  at  his  death  to  bequeath  ia^ 
his  lucceflbr  t'orty-feven  thoufand  men  under  arms.  Ry 
that  circumftance  you  will  be  iiiltru6led  wliat  may  be 
done  by  the  a6livity,  vigilance,  andlpiritofafingle  man. 
The  ernpire,  it  is  laid,  is  undone.  How !  are  Italy,  Sicily, 
Spain,  Libya,  and  Egypt,  all  exhiultcd  ?  Are  Boeotia, 
Macedonia,  and  the  plains  of  Ada,  which  made  the  riches 
of  Darius  and  Alexander,  are  they  grown  barren  and  un- 
productive ?  But  the  nurnbers  ot  mankind  are  thinned ! 
Oh,  my  friends,  let  fociai  happinel's  be  re-etl^bliftied  in 
thole  regions,  and  the  progrefs  of  population  will  be  re- 
paid :  men  will  be  found  in  plenty  ;  and  then  I  ftiould 
have  courage  to  propole  the  vaft  plan  which  1  have  me- 
ditated, and  which,  perhaps,  is  the  only  way  to  render 
the  empire  more  powerful  and  more  flourifhing  than  ever.* 
— '  And  what  can  that  plan  be  ?'  laid  the  emperor. — *  I 
will  open  it  to  ycu,'  replied  Belifarius. 

*  The  operations  of  war,  according  to  our  way  of  con- 
dueling  it,  exceeded  the  ftrength  of  our  armies  ;  we  were 
quite  exhaulfed  by  laborious  marches  and  fatigue  of  every 
kind.  The  diverfion  of  our  arms  gave  the  enemy  an  op- 
portunity to  alarm  us  v/ith  fudden  incurlions,  which  th« 
line  of  veterans  and  of  Agrarian  foldicrs,  polfed  on  our 
borders,  was  not  fufficient  to  withftand  ;  and,  in  confe- 
qucnce,  before  the  regular  legions  could  come  up  to  their 
liipport,  devaftation  and  terror  without  control  fpread  a 
general  ravage^*.  In  order,  therefore,  to  oppofe  to  this 
torrent  a  conftant  fence^  I  would  new  model  the  empire 
upon  a  plan  of  military  policy,  in  fuch  fort,  that  every 
frteman  fliould  be  a  ib!dier,but  for  the  purpofes  only  of  in- 
ternal defence.  Upon  this  fyftem,  every  prefect  would 
have  under  his  command  a  well-arrangedarmy,  of  which 
the  cohorts  would  be  formed  by  the  cities,  and  the  le- 

♦  In  the  time  of  Auguftus,  the  frontier  provinces  did  r.of  exceed 
nine.  The  legions  were  eftabliilied  at  fixed  and  regular  pofts.  But 
the  number  ot  provinces  increafingafterwards,  the  legions  became 
inadequate  to  their  fervice.  Ccnftantine  withdrew  them  to  an  in- 
terior ftation,  and  the  hnes  of  veterans,  to  whom  lands  were  al- 
lotted on  the  borders  of  the  enemyjOiads  but  a  feeble  fubfritute  in 
the  room  of  more  regular  forces.  gions 


EEtlSARlUS.  tlj 

^iciis  by  the  provinces,  wlrh  proper  places  appointed  to? 
their  rendezvous,  that  they  might  l6  acl  in  concert,  as  at 
the  found  of  a  tnimpet  to  alTcmble  immediately,  and  be 
embodied  at  the  fliortelt  warning. 

*  From  an  army  of  this  kind  would  refult  this  further 
advantage,  that  every  individual  would  glow  with  the 
love  of  his  native  loil  j  that  foil  which  he  has  helped  to 
people,  which  his  hands  have  cultivated,  and  v/hich  is  en- 
deared to  hiin  by  the  laboar  he  has  employed  to  make  it 
fiouriftiing  and  huittul.  With  chafe  incentives  in  their 
bcibms,  you  m.ay  imagine  to  yourfdf  how  ardent  they 
would  be  in  the  juil  defence  of  their  property*. 

'  In  an  empire  of  wide  extent  there  is  nothing  fo  dif- 
ficult as  to  diffufe  through  the  whole  an  idea  of  a  common 
caufe,  a  principle  of  civil  union,  and  one  general  intereft. 
Am.ong  people  ieparared  by  the  fea  wefeldom  obferve  any 
coniV.ciable  degree  of  attachm.enc  to  one  another.  The 
foutn  is  wholly  indifferent  about  the  dangers  that  alann 
the  north.  The  Dalmatian  and  the  liiyrian  march  under 
our  banners  into  Aiia  with  the  coMeli  infcnfibility  :  to 
them  it  is  a  matter  of  no  concern  whether  the  Tigris  flows 
bnder  our  laws  or  thole  of  the  Perfians.  By  miiiitary  dif- 
cipline  he  is  retained  in  the  camp,  and  from  the  love  of 
plunder  he  denves  a  degree  of  fpirit;  but  cool  reflection 
iuccecds :  by  fatigue  and  labour  he  is  relaxed  j  and  in  the 
firft  moment  of  diicontent  or  terror  he  abandons  a  caufe 
which  is  not  his  own.  Upon  my  plan  the  very  reverfe 
would  be  the  cafe;  the  name  of  country  would  not  be  an 
cm.pty  lourd  to  the  foldier,but  the  objed  of  hisartecticn, 
ever  dear  ar.d  piefent,  and  twined  about  his  heart  by  all 
the  lendereit  ties  of  nature.  To  enfiame  the  foldier  with 
i'pirit  agairft  the  enemy,  the  proper  harangue  may  be 
thus  conceived  :■ — "  Friends,  countrymen,  and  iellow-ci- 
tizcns  !  behold  the  lands  wiilchgave  you  nurture  j  lo,  the 
roof  under  which  you  drew  your  firft  breath  !  tnetomb  of 
your  ar.ceftors,  the  cradle  or  your  infants,  and  the  bed 

*  Land-pofTefPions  infpire  their  cultivators  witli  courage  to  de- 
fend them.  The  fruit  ot  the  foil  is  the  ftake  which  the  conaueror 
|)ropofes  lo  win.  L  a  oi 


124  2!ELISARIUS. 

of  your  wives,  whom  you  are  now  going  to  defend!^''—* 
'  And  are  not  theie  powerful  and  pathetic  motives  ?  They 
have  made  more  heroes  than  even  love  and  ambition.  Of 
their  reliftlefs  influence  over  minds  trained  up  to  ideas  of 
\var,  and  tlie  rigorous  duties  of  military  dilcipline,  you 
may  eafi'v  form  a  judgment. 

*  For  my  part,  I  dwell  with  inexpreflible  delight  on  the 
picture,  which  even  now  im?^gination  fondly  draws,  of  a 
laborious,  warlike  youth,  preiring  with  ardour  in  all  our 
towns  and  viiiiges  to  the  ftandard  of  their  country  j  a 
ipirited  and  active  race,  preierved  by  labour  from  the 
vices  of  indolence,  inured  by  habit  to  the  rigours  of  manly 
exercife,  addi6fe  1  to  the  ufefui  arts  of  peace,  and  eager  to 
take  the  field  upon  the  firft  alarm  of  danger.  In  a  militia 
i'o  conlHtuted,  the  crime  of  deiertion  would  be  a  crime 
againli  nature;  and  their  courage  and  fidelity  would  be 
fetured  to  their  country  by  every  facred  bond  that  holds 
fociety  together.  The  Itate  w.mid  not  the  lefs  on  this  ac- 
count be  provided  widi  its  regular  legions,  which  would 
be  a  moving  bulwark,  reac^'^  to  be  advanced  whenever 
danger  called.  By  theie  means  a  ipirit  of  emulation  and 
a  warlike  genius  would  he  diffufe^l  thrcugliout  the  em- 
pire, and  the  rewaid  of  biavery  might  be  a  commiflion  to 
ferve  in  the  regular  and  more  honourable  body  of  the  le- 
gions, which  would  oe  thus  recruited,  w.thout  thofe  rafh 
levies  of  men  which  partiality,  fraud,  coUufion,  or  negli- 
gence, inlilt  into  the  army.  We  Aicu!d  have  a  mulfer  of 
the  people.  Hew  fuperior  would  be  the  force  of  the  em- 
pire to  any  former  period  of  its  Ibength,  even  though  we 
fhould  look  back  to  the  days  ot  its  molt  I'efulgent  glory*  ! 
Would  the  enemy  of  the  South  or  the-  North  dare,  in  that 
cale,  to  invade  us  ?  Would  they  aflltult  a  people,  who 
with  an  undilciplined  army,  unprovided  with  the  proper 
inftruments  of  war,  and  almolt  without  bread,  have  fo 
often  beat  back  their  irruptions  P' 

'  And  who  can  anfwer,'  interrupted  Juftinian,  *  that  in 
a  military  (late  like  this  the  people  will  always  be  under 

*  Under  Auguftus  23  legions  ;  under  Tiberius  25  ;  Adrian  30  ; 
Galba  372,000  men,  half  Aomans,  and  the  other  half  auxiliaries. 

the 


BEL1SARIU3.  125 

trie  control  of  government  ?  Who  will  venture  to  enfure  a 
due  lubordinaticn  ?■ — '  It  will  be  eniured/  replied  Beli- 
larius,  *  by  their  o\^ninterefi:,  by  the  benignity  ot  thelawSj 
nnd  the  moderation,  julticc,  and  lagacity  of  a  wife  ad- 
miniftration.    You  will  be  lb  good  as  to  bear  in  your 
nnnds,  that  I  made  the  happinefs  of  the  people  the  very 
ccrner-ltone  of  the  edifice/ — <  It  is  very  true,'  faid  Juf- 
tinian  :  *but  the  people  are  prone  to  change,   fond  of  in- 
novation, inconftant,  rtftlefs,  and  ready  to  be  inflamed  by 
the  firft  fa6ticus  leader  that  hopes  to  find  his  account  in 
civil  commotions.' — '  You  fee  the  people  in  one  light 
only,""  replied  Beliiariusj   *  you  judge  of  them  in  their 
prefent  condition,  a  ftate  of  luffering  like  that  in  whicJl 
they  were  plunged  at  Rome,  when  Kcme  had  fallen  into 
misfortunes.  But  of  this  you  maybe  fure,  that  men  always 
know  their  own  wants,  and  will  underftand  their  rights  : 
let  the  prince  fuccour  the  former,  and  prctefl  the  latter, 
and  you  may  rtriy  upon  it  that  they  will  acknowledge  ali 
his  patriot  cares  with  gratitude.    The  fovertign's  love 
will  be  repaid  by  the  affections  of  his  people.   If  he  pro- 
ved juft,  benevolent,  and  wife,  confiding  the  offices  of  his 
adminiftrat'.on  to  none  but  men   worthy  of  feconding  the 
good  intentions  of  a  patriot  prince,  the  people  on  their 
part  will  be  docile  and  fubmiflive.    By  what  metamor- 
j)hofis,  I  fhould  be  glad  to  know,  can  a  few  difcontented 
ipirits,  a  paltry  handful  of  feditious  malconter.tSj    con- 
vert a  people  who  have  reafon  to  be  fatisfied  into  a  fetof 
perjured  rebels  ?   Such  a  revolt  is  only  to  be  dreaded  by 
him  who  leaves  his  fubjech  to  groan  under  oppreflion  j 
the  charafter  of  reigning  tor  the  good  of  his  community 
will  always  be  a  bulwark  againll  treafcns  and  compira- 
cies.    Can  it  be  imagined  that,  amidil  the  appiaufes  lent 
uji  to  the  throne  by  a  grateful  people,  rebellion  will  dare  to 
eieft  its  ftandard  ?  Where  is  it  to  leek  accomplices  ?  Will 
it  go  into  fcenes  ot   rural  tranquillity,  where  peace,  ii- 
birty,  and  plenty,  fit  fmiling  on  the  land  ?  Will  it  ikuik 
in  towns  where  indulfry  works  in  cheerhilnefs,  and  the. 
fortunes  of  eveiy  citizen,  his  life,  his  property,  and  his 
rights,  are  under  the  fafeguard  of  the  laws  ?   Wiil  it  ca- 
L  c  bai 


IZG  BELISARIUS. 

bal  in  families,  where  Innocmccr,  truth,  honour,  and  the 
fanftity  ot  marriage-vows,  co-operate   with  all  tiie  ten- 
dereft  ties  of  nature,  arul  endear  the  domelllc  icene  ?  Can 
trealbn  in  fuch  pinccs  expecl  to  find  aiiociates  t   It  will 
not  expeft  it;  lor  the  empire  of  jultice  is  immovable,  or 
nothing  fuhlunary  can  have  a  lalting  duration.  I  will  al- 
low you  that,  in  making  the  fubjeft  powerful,  in  order  to 
render  him  happy  and  contented,   there  is  a  rifk  that  re- 
quires a  daring  mind,  but  of  that  daring  mind  I  fhould 
be,  though  my  ruin  were  the  conkqvience  :  I  fliculd  fpealc 
out  and  tell  my  people,  I  put  arms  into  your  hands,  to 
ferve  and  aid  me  if  my  government  be  jull,  and  to  afTift 
ufurpaticn  if  I  (hould  be  guilty  of  it.    This  you  will 
deem  rafhnefs,  but  in  my  idea  It  is  the  height  of  prudence 
tiHis  to  put  under  due  reitraijit  both  my  own  paflionsand 
thofe  of  the  people,    thereby  eilablilliing  a  fure  barrier 
againif  the  iii  coniequences  of  either.     With  my  crown  I 
fnculdj  by  thefe  means,  transit  to  my  fucceiior  an  he- 
reditary necefiity  to  govern  according  to  law  ;  and  that 
neceflity,  thus  rendered  defcendible,  would  be  the  bright- 
eli:  monument  of  glory  that  ever  monarch  left  behind  him. 
I  am  aware,  my  friends,  that  genuine  virtue  does  not  aft 
upon  the  principle  of  fear ;  but  if  virtue  be  entrenched  by 
it,  I  fliall  think  it  a  confidcrable  advantage  j   for  what 
virtue  is  at  all  times  lure  of  walking  upright  ?  I  know  it 
is  a  maxim  that  a  prince  is  above  the  lavi-s  j  the  very  law 
Itfeif  alfcrts  it,  and  perhaps   wifely;    but  my    firit  care 
fhould   be  at   my  accelTion   to   forget  that  maxim,  nor 
would  I  forgive  the  fycophant  who  (hould  remind  me  of 
it.  My  friends,  I  now  mull:  take  my  leave.    To  change 
the  face  oi  things,  and  new  model  an  empire,  is  a  labo- 
rious tafk:  let  us  repofe  ourfelves  a  little.  To-morrow  £ 
fliall  be  glad  of  your  company.    There  ftill  remains  be- 
hind another  grievance  which  affliiSls  my  fpirits  ;  but  I 
will  relerve  it  for  another  opportunity.  At  our  next  meet- 
ing I  (hall  endeavour  to  intcreft  Tiberius  in  regard  totlic 
matter  I  now  only  alluded  to.' 

'  His  views   are,  no  doubt,   great  and  extenfiv^e,'  fald 
the  emperor,  as  he  was  on  hi*  way  back.    *  But  if  his 

fchemes 


BELISARIIJS.  117 

fchemss  are  praftlcable,  they  mail  be  undertaken  by  Ibine 
prince  in  the  vi^  )ur  of  youth,  who  afcends  the  throne 
with  a  manly  firmnefs  of  mind,  a  Ipirit  of  jultice,  of  cou- 
rage, and  of  virtue.  Added  to  thefe  qualities,  he  will  have 
occafion  for  a  long  reign,  in  order  to  bring  about  lb  won- 
derful a  revolution.' — <  I  am  not  able  to  decide,'  faid 
Tiberius  5  *  but  in  his  plan  I  thought  I  perceived  feme 
things  that  require  only  an  ctr ort  of  the  will  to  compafs 
them  J  and  if  the  reft  muft  depend  upon  time,  that  time, 
it  is  to  be  hoped,  is  not  lb  remote  but  we  may  expeft  to 
fee  it  drawn  upon  us  Ihortlv.' — ^  My  dear  Tiberius,' re- 
plied the  emperor,  *  you  behold  difficulties  with  the  eye 
o!^  youthful  inexperience;  your  a6livity  vaults  over  them  j 
but  my  infirmities  fhrink  back,  difmayed.  To  execute 
great  pro-efts,  alas!  faid  he  with  a  deep  figh  we  muft 
begin  early.  It  is  not  the  time  to  begin  to  live,  when 
all  we  need  is  to  learn  to  die  ;  and  yet  I  niuft  fee  the  good 
old  man  again.  His  converiation,  it  is  true,  afflicts  me, 
but  I  had  rather  indulge  a  pleafmg  fadnefs  in  his  com- 
pany, than  lufFer  the  infulting  gaiety  of  vain  unthinking 
men,  who  throng  about  me  in  my  palace.' 

CHAP.  XV. 

AT  the  accuftcmed  hour,  the  next  day,  the  empercr 
and  Tiberius  found  the  hero  in  his  garden,  enjoying 
the  departing  rays  of  the  weftern  fun. — '  It  no  longer 
lights  me,'  la:dBeiifarius,withalookexprefiiveof -nward 
happinefs,  *  but  it  ftill  warms  and  comforts  me.  In  that 
ftupendous  orb  I  adore  the  bounty  and  magnificence  of  the 
great  Creator.' — « To  hear  this  drain  of  piety  from  a  war- 
rior,' faid  Juftinian,  '  delights  and  raviilies  me  3  it  is  the 
triumph  of  religion  !' — -^  The  triu  nph  of  religion,'  re- 
plied Belifaiius,  '  is  to  adminilter  confwlatiori  in  the  hour 
of  adverlity,  and  to  mingle  in  the  cup  of  forrow  the  fweets 
of  calm  delight  and  heavenly  fatisfacUon.  That  religion 
affords  this  heart-lelt  joy  who  can  give  better  teftimony 
than  myieif?  Overwhelmed  with  years,  deprived  ot  fight, 
and  deftitute  of  friends,  abandoned  over  to  myfelf,  and  no- 
thing prefent  t«  my  thoughts  but  the  decline  of  frail  mcr- 

te'itv, 


1^8        ^    ^  5FLISARIUS. 

taiity,  sffllc^Ion,  and  my  approaching  grave,  I  have  HOr 
thing  left  but  to  lend  up  my  meditation  to  heaven  :  to  de- 
prive me  of  that  were,  perhaps,  to  drive  me  to  defpair.— ? 
Tiie  good  man  walks  with  God ;  a  fecret  confcioufnei^ 
that  he  is  acceptable  to  his  Creator  warms  his  heart  j  and 
from  that  fource  he  derives  Itrength  and  rapture  even  in 
the  midft  ofafflidion.  When  I  was  firft  furrounded  with 
misfortunes,  del'erted  by  all,  and  given  up  to  my  enemies^ 
who  were  plotting  my  ruin,  I  have  often  faid  to  myfelf, 
"  Be  of  courage,  Beiifariusi  you  are  free  from  feir-re- 
proach,  and  your  God  beholds  you.""  My  heart,  where 
all  was  ^aid  waile  and  defolate  with  mlfery,  revived  and 
glowed  within  me  at  that  reflexion;  I  felt  it  expand  in 
my  bofom  with  new  life  and  joy.  I  hold  the  fame  felf- 
coni-erence  ftill ;  and  when  my  daughter  is  with  me,  yield- 
ing to  the  Itroke  of  affli(fl:ion,  and  bathing  my  face  with 
tears — "  Can  you  be  afraid,"  I  alk  her,  "  that  he  v/hofent 
us  on  this  rtage  of  life  will  ceafe  to  prompt,  to  invigorate, 
and  hipport  us  ?  Your  heart  is  endowed  withfenhbdity, 
and  t'-uth  and  purell  virtue  refide  there  ;  your  father  has 
net  more  to  anfwer  for  than  yourfelf ;  and  can  you  ima^ 
gine  that  the  fountain  of  all  goodnefs  will  defert  thatvirr 
tue  which  he  Joves?  Oh,  my  daughter!  cornebut  the  mo- 
ment when  he,  that  with  his  breadi  calleth  forth  my  foul 
into  exiftence,  flull  command  it  into  his  glorious  prefence, 
and  then  we  flial!  fee  whether  wicked  men  will  follow  thi^ 
ther  to  dirt urb  the  ftate  of  bills. "  My  poor  daughter 
Eudoxa  liftens  with  fixed  attention  to  this  conibling  lan- 
guage, and  her  tears  fall  as /lie  hears  it;  but  they  are  tears 
that  flow  mingled  v.'ith  delight ;  and  thus  by  degrees  I  lead 
her  to  confider  life  as  a  littievoyage,  which  weperiormin 
a  little  bark  not  accommodated  to  our  wifhes,  and  there- 
fore with  joy  we  approach  tlie  pert  where  all  is  peace,  de- 
light, and  rapture.' 

*  You  have  framed  for  yourfelf,'  faid  the  emperor,  *  a 
verv  comfortable  fcheme  of  religion '.'--*  It  is  truereligion,"" 
replied  Btlifarlus. — '  Would  vou  have  me  contemplate  the 
God  whom  I  adore  in  thelghrofa  fullen  anl  offended  ty- 
fiint,  who    delights  in  vengeance  only:   I  know  full  well 

■     tha^^ 


BELISAIRUS.  129 

tint  when  he  is  reprerentcd  to  us  by  men  of  dark,  of  jea- 
lous, haughty,  and  melancholy  tempers,  the  image  of  a 
Deity  takes  a  tin6lure  from  the  imaginations  it  has  paded 
through,  and  a  benevolent  God  is  made  to  appear  a  fretful, 
pafTionate,  and  irraicible  being,  like  the  creatures  that  talk, 
of  him.  Tney  perhaps  find  their  account  in  making  their 
ov/n  vices  the  attribute  of  heaven :  but  I  endeavour  to  fi- 
gure to  myfclf  the  perlections  which  it  is  mv  duty  to  imi- 
tate. Do  you  thnic  th'.s  an  enor  ?  It  is  at  leail  an  inno- 
cent one.  From  the  hands  of  my  Creator  I  came  forth 
weak  arid  feeble  j  he  v^ill  be  indulgent  therefore  ;  to  him 
it  is  apparent  that  I  have  neither  the  madnefs  nor  the  vi'ick- 
cdnefs  to  offend  him  :  that  infatuation  of  mind,  that  im^ 
potence  of  pride,  is  foreign  to  my  heart.  To  my  God  I 
am  mere  dutifully  attached,  more  fen  ently  devoted,  than 
ever  I  v.v:is  to  the  emperor  :  and  of  this  I  am  fure,  that  the 
emperor,  who  is  but  a  vseak  erring  man,  would  never  have 
done  me  harm,  if,  like  my  God,  he  could  have  read  my 
heart.' 

<  Alas  !  that  God,'  faid  Juilinlan,  *  is,  notwithftand- 
ing  what  you  have  laid,  a  God  of  wrath  j  a  terrible  GcdP 
— "'  Yes,  to  the  guilty  he  is  terrible,'  replied  Bcliiarius; 
*  but  I  am  felf  acquitted  in  my  own  conicience  j  it  tells 
me  I  am  good  and  virtuous ;  and  in  the  lame  manner 
that  the  flagitious  foul  is  incompatible  with  the  cflenceof 
the  divinity,  I  have  the  comfort  to  think  that  the  foul  of 
the  juft  man  is  analogous  to  the  fountain  of  all  goodnels.' 
-^'  But  which  of  us  is  the  juft  man  ?'  faid  the  emperor. 
— '  He  that  endeavours  moll  to  be  fo,'  replied  Belifarius  : 
'  for  goodnefs  confifts  altogether  in  volition.' 
.  «  That  you  delight  in  the  contemplation  of  your  God,* 
faid  Tiberius,  *  is  not  furprifing,  fince  you  behold  him  in 
fo  amiable  a  light !' — '  Alas !'  replied  the  c^d  man,  '  I 
know  how  much  I  am  obliged  to  ftraln  my  feeble  powers 
i  n  order  to  conceive  fuitably  of  the  Divine  Majefty }  and, 
after  all  the  efforts  of  a  limited  capacity  to  form  into  one 
complex  idea  all  that  is  fu'jiime  aud  beautiful,  and  good, 
I  am  conicious  how  inadequate  the  image  isatlaft.  But 
what  can  a  man,  who  would  ekvate  his  thoughts  to  a  no- 

tioa 


a  30  EELISARIUSi 

tion  of  his  Maker  ?  If  that  all-wile  and  Incomprebenfibb 
Being  deUghts  in  any  thing,  it  is  in  the  effiifion  of  bene- 
volence to  all  his  creatures  ;  this  refleilion  paints  him  to  me 
in  themildelt  attitudes,  and  on  that  idea  I  therefore  dwell, 
in  order  to  form  the  moll  endearing  conception  of  liini.* 
*  But  it  will  not  be  enough,*  laid  the  emperor,  <  tode- 
fine  him  a  benevolent  Being :  you  mud  call  himjuft  alio.' 
— '  They  are  lynonymous  words,'  replied  Belifarius.  ^  Tq 
delight  in  goodnefs,  and  to  have  a  detellation  for  evil  j  tp 
reward  the  former,  and  to  punilh  thelattei-,  that  is  the  tru^ 
chara6ter  of  goodnefs  :  that  is  my  firil,  my  unalterable  prin- 
ciple.    Has  it  never  happened  to  you  as  it  has  to  me,  tq 
attend  the  levee  of  Titus,  of  Trajan,  and  Antoninus  ?  Thr.E 
is  one  of  the  reveries  in  v.'hich  my  imagination  loves  to  in- 
dulge.    I  fancy  myielf  in  that  court,  compofed  of  the  true 
friends  of  the  crown  :  I  fee  thofe  illuftrious  princes  difpenle 
the  fniiles  of  complacence  all  around  the  honell  circle  ;  I 
fee  them  communicate  the  beams  of  glory  and  of  majeily, 
mixed  and  blended  withfuch  pleafing  delicacy  and  foftnels, 
that  every  heart  participates  of  the  joy  the  lovereign  feel^ 
in  diffufinghappincfs  to  others.  If  that  bean  auguit  icene, 
how  much  more  glorious  and  refulgent  will  be  the  court  of 
him  who  is  at  lall  to  receive  my  foul  I    It  will  be  filled 
with  the  Titufes,the  Trajans,  and  the  Antoninufes,  thoie 
dehghts  of  mankind.     It  is  in  their  company,  and  that 
of  the  virtuous  of  all  ages  and  of  all  countries,  that  th« 
poor  blind  Belifarius  will  glow  with  pureft  fire  before  the 
throneof  a  good  and  equitable  God.' — *  And  the  wicked,' 
faid  Tiberius,  •  how  do  you  difpofe  of  them  f — '    i  hey 
will  not  be  there !   I  (hall  hope,'  continued  he,  *  to  fee  m 
that  blaze  of  glory  theauguft  and  wretched  old  man  who 
took  away  my  eyes ;  for  he  has  done  much  good  from  the 
inclination  of  his  heart ;  and  if  ever  he  did  wrong,  he  was 
furprifed  into  it.     He  will  rejoice,  I  believe,  to  lee  my  loft 
organs  reltored  to  mel' — And  thus  the  hero  fpoke,  his 
whole  countenance  was  irradiated  with  joy,  while  the  em^ 
peror  poured  floods  of  tears,  reclining  upon  the  breaft  of 
Tiberius. 
At  length  his  tender  fenfations  giving  way  torefle6tion, 

«P9 


ISELISARIUS.  Ijt 

— '  Do  yoi?  hope/  laid  the  emperor,  *  to  find  the  pagan 
heroes  in  that  paradile  which  has  lb  enraptured  you  ?* 
Do  you  think  they  will  be  admitted  V — <  My  good  neigh- 
bbyr/  replied  Belifarius,  '  you  do  not  mean,  I  am  fure, 
to  affiled  me  in  my  old  age  !  I  am  poor  and  wretched, with- 
dutany  other  comfort  than  that  which  Iprings  up  within 
me  ficm  the  Icenes  of  futurity  uhith  I  have  fancied  to 
myfclf.  If  it  be  an  error,  pray  indulge  me  in  it :  it  cheers 
my  heart,  and  God  is  not  clfendedi  it  enlarges  my  idea 
of  his  benevolence,  and  I  love  him  more  ardently  for  it. 
I  cannot  be  induced  to  think,  that  between  my  foul  arirt 
that  of  Ariftides,  of  Marcus  Aurclius  and  of  Cato,  there 
is  an  eternal  abyls  of  fepaiaticn  5  if  I  thought  there  were, 
I  feel  that  my  love  for  the  great  author  of  cur  exillence 
would  be  diminillied  by  it/ 

*  Young  man,'  laid  the  emperor  to  Tiberius,  *  while 
you  honour  the  enthufiaft ic  virtue  or  this  hero,  you  rauil: 
riot  believe  him  an  orthodox  guide.  Belifarius  never  pre- 
tended to  be  deeply  verfed  in  the  myfteries  of  faith.'— t- 

*  And  who  can   be  deeply   verfed  ?'    replied  the   hero. 

*  Alas !  who  can  prefume  to  thmk  his  eye  has  pervaded 
the  great  fchenne  of  providerxe !  The  all-wife  Creator 
has  given  us  two  guides,  which  ought  to  operate  in  con- 
cert with  each  other;  and  thofc  guides  are,  the  light  of 
taith,  and  of  natural  reafon.  The  truth  of  which  we 
are  convinced  by  intuition,  faith  will  never  contiadicf. 
Revelation  is  but  a  fuppiement  to  the  light  of  nature  :  it  is 
the  fame  Voice  that  1  peaks  to  us  frona  the  throne  of  heaven, 
and  from  the  bottom  cf  the  heart,  it  is  impofllble  that 
they  fhould  be  at  variance;  and  if,  on  the  one  hand,  the 
truth  that  ftirs  within  me  announces  the  juft  and  good  to 
be  acceptable  to  his  Creator,  I  (hall  never  hear,  on  the 
other,  that  he  is  obnoxious  to  the  wrath  of  heaven.' — 

*  And  who  can  be  anfwerahle,'  laid  the  emperor,  *  that 
tliis  inward  fentiment  is  the  revelation  of  nature  ?'— '  If 

♦  It  has  been  decided  by  the  fathers,  that  God  will  work  a 
miracle,  rather  than  ler  him  periih  everlaftingly  who  hasfaith- 
iuily  followed  the  laws  of  nature.  Bur  Juftiniaa,  it  is  weii 
knoviQy  was  a  bitjotj  and  of  a. per  fee  u  ting  fpirit.  of 


1^1  BELISARIUS. 

itbt-not,'  replied  Belilarius,  *  ajuft  snd  benevolent  God 
fufFcrs  me  to  be  milled,  and  ail  is  lott.  It  is  the  light 
of  n.:tural  leafon  that  tells  me  there  is  an  ai!  governing 
mind,  that  commands  me  to  worlhip  him,  and  promul- 
gates his  laws  in  my  very  foul.  Ar.d  wiil  the  wile  Crea- 
tor give  me  by  thole  means  an  inwaid  conviction,  that 
may  prove  at  lad  the  grcileft  error  r  Alas  1  whoever  is 
my  antagonift  in  thefc  points,  I  beg  him*  to  leave  me  ilili 
my  confcience,  the  light  of  intuition  :  it  is  my  guide  and 
rny  bell  fupport.  Without  it  I  can  no  longer  diftinguifli 
right  trom  wrong,  or  good  from  evil:  truth  and  Jalfe- 
hood  become  indilcriminate,  and  my  duty  loles  its  fanc- 
tion.  I  do  not  even  know  that  there  are  any  dut:es  to 
bind  me :  I  am  then  blind  indeed  5  and  they  v/ho  took 
nie  from  the  light  of  the  fun,  were  by  far  lefs  birbarous 
than  the  man  who  would  extinguifli  in  me  the  internal 
light  of  realbn.' 

*  Let  me  alk  you,'  laid  Juftlnlan,  *  what  do  you  per- 
ceive fo  clearly  by  this  faint  glimmering  ray  within  the 
mind  r' — '  I  perceive,'  replied  the  hero,  *  that  the  reli- 
gion wlilch  intimates  to  me  a  juft  and  benevoleiit  God,  is 
a  true  religion ;  and  that  whatever  is  lepugnant  to  that 
fine  inward  fentiment,  is  not  of  that  religion.  Shall  I 
avow  my  principles  ?  I  am  attached  to  that  relig-on, 
becaufe  it  renders  me  better,  and  gives  a  dignity  to  my 
nature.  It  I  felt  that  it  made  me  haughty,  fierce,  and 
hard  of  heait,  I  fiiould  abjure  it  at  once,  and  I  fhould 
fay  to  my  God,  *'  In  the  dilemma  which  obliges  me  to  be 
either  wicked  or  an  unbeliever,!  choole  the  latter,  and  ani 
f'ureit  will  leaft  offend  you.""  *  Buth..ppily therehgion  I 
embrace  Is  congenial  to  my  heart.  Love  God,  and  love 
his  works  :  can  any  thing  be  more  fmiple,  ju(t,  and  na- 
tural ?  To  wIjIi  good  to  nim  wlio  does  us  evil ;  what  a 
noble  morality  !  how  generous  and  fuhllme  !  In  our  mis- 
fortunes, to  conllder  ail  as  a  trial  of  virtue,  how  fweet 
and  comfortable  tb.e  phllolbphy  !  Thus  far  I  am  con- 
tent J  and,  while  I  pollefs  this  moral  fyllem,  if  mylle- 
ries  are  piopoitd  to  me,  I  acknowlecige  them  above  my 
leaibn,  and  I  fubmit,  with  a  lincere  compafllon  for  thoie 

whole 


EELISARIUS.  135 

whofe  judgment  wants  the  lame  reflltude  and  dccility; 
at  the  iaine  time  I  recommend  tliem  to  the  lupremc  good- 
nefs  of  the  Father  of  ail,  and  fo  the  infinite  mercy  ot  that 
omnifcient  Judge,  who  iees  the  paths  ot  ^ror,  and  can 
forgive  it.' 

'  In  this  way  of  proceeding/  fald  Juftlnian,  *  you  are 
going  to  deal  out  iaivs«icn  to  numbers  without  uiitinc- 
tion  !' — «  And  is  it  necelTary,''  replied  Bclilarius,  *  that 
numbers  fhould  be  in  a  rtate  of  reprobation  ?' — '  I  feel 
with  you,"  laid  Juftinian,  *  that  it  is  more  comfortable 
to  love  God  than  to  fear  him  ;  hut  all  nature  atttfts  liis 
vengeance  and  the  rigour  of  his  decrees."-'-'  For  my  pari:,' 
laid  Bclil'arius,  '  I  am  perfuaded  that  he  only  puniflies 
when  the  divine  grace  cannot  be  extended ;  that  he  is  not 
the  origin  of  evil  j  that  he  has  formed  the  bcil  poilible 
A'licm,  and  has  diftuied  all  the  good  that  fyllem.  was  ca- 
pable of  receiving*.  That  is  my  theology.  Let  it  be 
propoied  throughout  the  world,  and  itwiiibe  found  wor- 
thy of  being  embraced  with  zeal  and  veneration:  the  voice 
Oi  nature  will  fpeak  aloud  in  favour  of  it.  Should  violence 
and  cruelty  arm  it  with  fword  and  fire  ;  fhould  the  rulers 
of  the  eaith,  who  profels  this  religion,  with  bigot  rage 
bit!  the  fiends  of  hell  overrun  the  world,  and  in  the  najne 
of  God  excruciate  thoie  whom  they  ought  to  pity  and  to 
love,  they  will  eltabliflione  or  other  of  thefe  two  prcpo- 
fitions  :  either  that  their  religion  is  barbarous  like  them- 
felves,  or  they  give  the  lie  to  the  dc6lrine  of  truth.' 

*  You  have  raifed,'  laid  Juftinian, '  a  fericus  and  im- 
portant qucftion  1  To  throw  fome  light  upon  it,  it  will 
be  proper  to  inquire  whether  a  prince  has  a  right  to  eftab- 
lifh  tiiroughouthis  dom.inions  an  uniformitycf  faith,  and 
one  general  m,cde  of  worfiiip.  If  this  right  be  inherent 
in  the  crown,  how  caa  it  be  exerted  againft  rebellious  and 
ftubborn  dilTenters  but  by  force  and  punilhment  ?' 

*  As  I  am  making  a  profcffion  of  faith,  *  laid  Belifa- 
rius,  <  I  Will  frankly  own,  that  whatever  concerns  the 
good  order  of  icciety,  and  has  an  influence  on  the  m.an- 

_  ♦  The  opinion  of  the  Stoic  fchool,  which  was  adopted  by  Leib- 
Ditz,  and  other  Optimifl:  is  here  afcribed  to  Eelil'arius. 

M  ners. 


13+  IBELISARITjS. 

ners,  is  of  necelTity  fubjeft  to  the  jurifdifiion  of  the  Co- 
vereign,  not  as  theiniallible  judge  of  truth  and  faUehood, 
but  as  a  mip;iftrate  whofe  province  it  is  to  compute  the 
political  gooti  or  evil  thatrefults  fiom  the  aftions  of  men  : 
and  this  opinion  of  mine  I  found  upon  this  principle,whicli 
fliould  be  a  firft  principle  in  eveiy  man's  creed,  namely, 
thatGod  is  the  friend  of  order,anc'' authorizes  nothing  that 
can  ditturb  it.' — '  Well  then,'  fald  the  emperor,  *  do  you 
dovibt  that  there  is  a  cloie  and  intimate  relation  between 
the  eftablifl^od  faith  and  the  manners?' — <  I  acknow- 
ledge,'  replied  Beliftrius,  *  that  there  are  many  truths, 
by  their  nature  interwoven  with  the  manners  j  but  take 
this  with  you,  that  there  are  intuitive  truths  planted  by 
the  hand  of  God  in  every  breaft,  which  no  man  in  his 
fenfes  will  call  in  queftion.     Whereas  the  truth  of  myf- 
teries,  which  are  beyond  the  reach  of  the  human  imder- 
ifanding,  and  therefore  require  a  revelation,  has  no  con- 
nexion with  the  morals  of  mankind.     For  if  we  confider 
a  moment,  we  fliall  perceive  that  the  all-wife  Being  has 
detached  his  myfteriesfrom  the  great  fyftem  of  ethics,  for 
purpofcs  the  moll  important  to  fociety;  namely,  that  with- 
out waiting  for  a  revelation  man  fliouldbe  led  by  tlje  pro- 
penfity  of  his  nature  to  a  moral  condu6h     And  if  pro- 
vidence has  thought  fit  to  make  the  welfare  of  fociety,  the 
political  happintfs  of  mankind,  the  fate  of  empires,  and 
the  courfe  of  baman  contingencies,  altogether  independ- 
ent of  the  fublime  truths  of  revelation,  my  <jueftion  is, 
why  Hiould  not  the  civil  m.agiflrate  imitate  the  difpenfa- 
tions  of  the  Supreme  Being  ?  The  fovereig-n  fhould  inquire 
difpaflionatclv  whether,  by  believing  or  not  believing  any 
particular  fpcculative  point,  mankind  would  in  a  moral 
lenfe  be  better  or  worfe,  and  in  a  political  view  moie  va- 
luable citizens,  or  more  faithful  fubje^s.     This  I  will 
take  upon  me  to  fay  fhould  be  the  rule  of  Ibvereign  au- 
thority J  and,  in  confcquence  of  it,  you  fee  what  a  num- 
ber of  ingenious  difputes  would  be  excluded  from  civil 
government.' 

*  I  obferve,'  faid  the  emperor,  *  that  you  leave  nothing 
to  the  fu  per  intend  ance  of  the  magiftrate  but  what  efien- 

tially 


EELISARIUS.  135 

tially  concerns  the  Interells  of  lociety  :  and  yet  among  all 
the  important  duties  otioveieignty,  the  moll  lacred  of- 
fice lurely  confilts  in  being  the  vicegerent  of  heaven,  for 
the  purpofes  of  enforcing  the  difpenlations  of  the  eternal 
will/ — <  Ah  !  let  them  be  vicegerents  of  ahnighty  good- 
neis,'  faid  Belilarius,  *  and  they  will  do  well  to  leave  the 
miniltry  of  vengeance  to  the  demons  ofhe  11.  ^ — '  That  the 
darkneis  of  ignorance  fliould  be  dilpelkd,  and  tliat  truth 
fhould  have  its  triumph  throughout  the  world,  muft  be 
allowed,'  faid  the  emperor,  *  to  be  co-incident  with  the 
plan  of  infinite  goodnefs.' — *  Truth  cannot  fail  to  tri- 
umph,' faid  Belifarius,  '  but  it  muft  not  be  by  the  arui 
of  flcili.  Do  you  not  perceive  that,  by  putting  the  fword 
of  vengeance  into  the  hand  of  truth,  ycu  entruft  error  with 
it  alfo  ?  The  very  poffelTion  of  that  fword  will  be  ever 
deemed  a  fufficient  authority  to  wield  it  without  mercy  j 
and,  let  me  add,  perfecution  vv'ill  always  be  on  the  fide  of 
the  ftrongeft,  and  will  there  ere6t  its  banners  according  to 
the  prevalence  of  opinion,  and,  as  thatfuggelh,  willglut 
itfelf  with  the  blood  of  the  unhappy  victims.  In  this 
manner,  we  know,  Anafthafius  perfecuted  that  mode  of 
faith  which  JulUnian  now  prote6ls.  The  defcendants  of 
men,  who  were  formerly  murdered  by  the  fpirit  of  into- 
lerance, have  now  reverfed  the  fcene,  and  in  their  turn 
commit  a  daily  maffacre  upon  the  pofterity  of  thofe  who 
not  long  fince  butchered  mankind  for  the  fervice  of  ano- 
ther religion.  Behold  thofe  two  princes  who  thought  to 
render themfelves  acceptable  to  God  by  piouily  murdering 
their  fellow-creatures !  Suppofing  the  principle  to  be  right, 
can  either  of  them  be  fure  that  the  blood  he  fpilt  was  that 
with  which  God  defired  to  fee  his  altars  imbrued?  Error 
has  an  immenfity  of  fpace,  and  truth  is  like  a  mathemati- 
cal point  in  the  prodigious  void.  And  who  has  hit  that 
point  ?  Each  man  affumes  thathappinefs  to  himfelf;  but 
upon  what  proof?  If  there  be  the  cleareft  evidence  that 
he  is  right,  can  that  evidence  authoril'e  iiim  to  infift,  and 
to  infift  fword  in  hand,  that  mankind  fhould  be  convinced 
by  it  ?  Perfuafion  comes  from  heaven,  or  it  is  the  work 
pt  nian»  If  from  heaven,  it  will  bring  v/ith  it  the  ere- 
M  7-  dential? 


13^  BELISARIUS. 

dentials  of  its  miflion  j  if  it  be  of  human  origin,  it  can 
only  claim  the  authority  of  reafon  over  the  faculties  of 
the  underftandiiig.     Each  man  is  anfwerable  for  his  own 
foul.     It  is  his  bufmei's,  therefore,  and  his  only,  to  de- 
termine the  choice  upon  wiiich  the  happinefs  or  mifery 
of  his  future  exiftence  depends.     You  would  compel  me 
to  think  as  you  do  j  and  if  you  are  mittaken,  you  iee  how 
dear  it  colts  me.     As  to  yourfclf,   the  error  might  have 
been  innocent;  will  it   be  innocent  to  work  my  ruin  ? 
Alas  1    why   is  man  fo  arrogant   to  fet  up  his  own  reli- 
gious creed  as  a  law  toothers?  Ivlililons,  who  had  enter- 
tained a  rational  lyftem  of  belief,  have  been  feduced  and 
impofed  upon.     But  let  it  be  even  fuppolcd  that  the  zea- 
lous   religionift  is  infallible  :  is  it  my  duty  to  attach  in- 
fallibility to  any  human  opinion  ?  God,  he  will  fay,  en- 
lightens him  }  let  him  then  charitably  pray,  that  God 
will  favour  me  in  the  fame  manner.     But,  atter  all,  if 
this  infallibility  be  alfumed  upon  human  evidence,  what 
fecurity   has   the  zealot  for  himlelf  or  for  me,  whom  he 
has  forced  into  his  I'tci  ?  The  only  point  upon  which  all 
the  theulogilts  agree  is,  that  they  do  not  comprehend  the 
very  myileries  they  dare  to  pronounce  upon  with  fuch  pe- 
remptory decifion  :  andlhallit  be  a  crime  in  me  to  doubt 
where  they  do  not  underltand  ?  Let  pure  and  fimple  faith 
defcend  from  heaven,  and  it  will  be  fure  of  gaining  pro- 
felytes  :  but  decrees  and  penal  edi6\s  will  give  two  things 
only  to  the  world,  rebels  and  hypocrites.     The  brave  will 
rebel,  to  vindicate  the  rights  of  the  free  born  mind,   and 
they  will  be  martyred  j    cowards  will  wear  the  malk  of 
dilfimulation  j  while  the  fanatics  of  every  le6l  will  be  fo 
many  tigei->i  let  loo fe  upon  mankind.     Call  an  eye  upon 
TiieodoriCjthat  wife  king  of  the  Goths,  whofe  reign(if  we 
except  the  latter  end  of  it)  was  not  inferior  to  the  admi- 
niitration  of  our  moft  virtuous  princes.     He  was  of  the 
Arian  perfuafion ,  but  fo  far  from  defiring  to  plant  his 
own  laith  by  the  deltru6\ion  of  mankind,  that  he  punilhed 
the  occafional  conformity  of  his  favourites  with  death. 
*'  How  can  Ithink,"he  ufed  to  lay,"that  you  will  not  be- 
tray me,  fmce  with  a  fpirit  gf  the  baled  complafance  you 

betray 


BELISARIUS.  137 

betray  him  who  was  adored  by  your  forefathers.'*  The 
emperor  Conltantius  thought  the  lame.  With  him  it  was 
never  a  crime  in  the  iubjecl  to  be  Heady  in  his  religious 
tenets  ;  on  the  contrary,  it  was  in  his  eyes  a  fm  of  the 
deepeft  die  in  any  courtier  to  adjure  his  faith  for  tempo- 
ral motives,  and  betray  his  foul  for  the  fake  of  court  fa- 
vour. Would  to  heaven  that,  like  them,  Juftinian  had 
never  bent  himlelf  to  enflave  the  privilege  of  thinking  • 
But,  alas  !  he  fuftered  himfelfto  be  involved  in  controver- 
fies  which  can  never  be  ended,  and  which  gave  him  more 
trouble  than  all  his  illuftrious  labours.  For  what  vvere 
the  confequences  ?  Seditions,  revolt,  and  maHacres.  His 
own  quiet  and  that  of  the  ftate  was  undone. 

*  The  tranquillity  of  the  ftate,'  faid  the  emperor,  '  de- 
pends upon  unity  of  fentiment.' — '  The  exprefiicn  is 
equivocal,'  replied  Belifarius,  '  and  theconitant  fourceof 
miftake.  The  minds  of  men  are  never  in  better  harmony 
than  when  each  individual  is  at  liberty  to  think  for  him- 
felf.  Do  you  know  whence  it  is  that  opinion  is  jealous, 
arbitrary,  and  intolerant  ?  It  is  ov^'ing  to  the  fatal  error  of 
fovereigns,  in  thinking  the  fpeculatlve  opinions  of  man- 
kind of  high  importance  to  the  ftate,  and  diftinguiniing 
one  dogmatical  party  with  the  moft  partial  favours,  in  pre- 
judice and  total  exclufionof  all  the  reft.  No  man  is  wd- 
ling  to  be  marked  out  for  contempt,  profcribed,  and  fti  ip- 
ped  of  all  his  civil  rights.  Whenever  a  ftate  is  divided 
into  two  factions,  and  one  of  them  engroftes  all  the  ad- 
vantages of  the  community,  the  other,  whatever  be  the 
caufe  of  diffenfion,  will  think  itfelf  aggrieved,  and  the 
love  of  their  country  will  give  way  torcfentmentand  four- 
nefs  offpirit.  The  moft  frivolous  obj eel  will  become 
grave  and  important,  as  foon  as  It  influences  the  peace  of 
ibciety.  It  is  that  influence,  and  not  the  thijig  itfelf, 
which  inflames  the  temper  of  party.  Let  a  controverfy 
be  railed  concerning  the  grains  of  fand  on  the  fea-ftiorc; 
to  that  controverfy  annex  a  degree  of  Influence  upon  the 
condition  of  the  fubjecl,  and  it  will  be  managed  with  as 
much  heat  and  animofity  as  any  other  queftion.  Reli- 
giojis  fury  is,  foi  the  moft  part,  compounded  of  envy, 
M  3  flsrcs 


tjS  EELISARIUS. 

fierce  defire,  ambition,  pride,  hatred,  and  fanatic  Ven- 
geance, that  tyrannizes  with  zeal,  as  if  it  were  conimif- 
fioned  by  heaven :  and  all  thefe  complicated  paflions  are 
the  gods  of  which  fovereigns  are  made  implacable  dele- 
gates. Were  there  nothing  to  be  gained  on  earth  by 
waging  war  tor  heaven  ;  wtre  zeal  for  truth  to  be  deprived 
of  a  pious  licence  to  murder  all  who  differ  about  an  hy- 
pothcfia  j  were  religious  enmity  no  longer  allowed  to  rife 
upon  the  rums  of  the  man  it  hates  j  were  it  retrained 
from  enriching  itfelf  with  the  Ipoils  of  the  oppofite  left, 
and  gaining  undue  hor^ours  and  preferments  j  the  fpirits 
of  mankind  would  foon  becompoied,  and  all  the  various 
parties  would  be  left  to  dogmatile  after  their  own  fafhion.' 
*  And  fo  the  caufe  of  God  would  be  abandoned,'  faid 
Juftinian. — '  The  caufe  of  God,"  replied  Belifarius,'  wants 
no  enrhufialts  to  iupport  it.  Is  it  owing  to  polemical  di- 
vinity that  tiie  I'un  riles,  and  the  ftars  glitter  in  the  fir- 
mament ?  Truth  (hines  with  its  own  pure  genuine  luftre, 
and  the  underftandings  of  men  are  not  enlightened  by  burn- 
ing the  faggots  of  perfecution.  The  a6fionsof  mankind 
are  committed  by  heaven  tothejurildi61ion  of  fovereigns  ; 
but  to  judge  of  the  inward  fentiment  is  a  right  rcferved 
for  the  great  fearcher  of  hearts.  That  truth  has  not  cho- 
fen  princes  for  its  arbitrators  will  be  perfe6lly  plain,  if  we 
confider  that  not  one  of  them  is  exempt  from  error." 

'  If  the  liberty  of  thinking,'  faid  the  emperor,  '  muft 
not  be  limited,  the  liberty  of  a6f  ing  will  loon  claim  the 
lame  immunity."' 

*  There  can  be  no  danger  of  it,'  repliedBelifarius :  *  It 
is  in  that  refpe6l  that  man  is  under  the  immediate  con- 
trol of  the  civil  power  j  and  while  that  power  confines  it- 
felf within  the  limits  of  law  and  natural  jullice,  it  will 
have  the  lefs  occafion  for  force  to  m.aintain  its  own  dig- 
nity and  the  good  order  of  fociety.  The  bafis  of  authority 
is  jultice  i  remove  the  latter  aijd  the  former  falls  to  the 
ground.  I  want  to  know  by  what  artsof  illufion  is  mor- 
tal man  to  deify  himlelf,  and  induce  his  fellow  creatures 
to  be  duped  by  the  monilrous  apotheofis  to  fuqh  a  depth 
of  infatuation,  as  to  ict  him,  iword  in  hand,  coir.mand 

mankind 


EELISARlUS.  139 

mankind  to  believe  what  he  believes,  and  think  what  he 
thinks  ?  Alk  the  commanders  of  the  army,  whether  the 
logic  of  the  i'word  has  ever  convinced  the  world  ?  Bid  them 
tell  vou  what  were  the  effects  ofviolence  and  rigour  againll 
the  Vandals  ?  I  was  in  Sicily  j  Salomon  arrived  in  the  ex- 
tremity of  defpair  :  "  All  is  over  in  Africa,"  laid  he  J  **the 
Vandals  have  rtvoited  ;  Carthage  is  taken,  and  they  have 
committed  the  viktf  ravage;  within  the  walls  and  round 
the  country  all  is  a  deluge  of  bicod  j  and  this  horrible 
confufion  is  owing  to  certain  polemical  zealots,  who  do 
not  underftand  themfclvesjandofcourfe  never  can  be  recon- 
ciled. If  the  emperor  will  mix  himfelf  thus  in  abitract 
fophilfry,  and  publifli  his  edicts  in  fupport  of  ilibtilties 
which  he  does  not  comprehend,  let  him  put  his  irrefraga- 
ble doctors  at  the  head  of  his  arm.ies :  for  my  part  I  re- 
fign  5  they  have  driven  me  beyond  all  patience."  Thus 
that  brave  man  declared  his  tentur.ents  :  between  ourfelves 
he  was  in  the  right.  There  are  palFions  enough  incident 
to  human  nature  for  the  dilquiet  of  the  world,  without 
havine  the  torch  of  difcord  lighted  up  by  fanaticifm.' 

*  And  who,'  inquired  the  emperor,  *  ihall  quench  the 
flames  of  difcord  ?' — '  The  nature  of  the  human  nv.ndwill 
quench  the  flame,'  returned  Belifarms :  '  for  cafuifts  will 
grow  tired  at  laif  of  fkirmilTiing  about  proportions  mea 
cannot  underftand,  and  cavilling  about  dKtinftions  none 
have  leifure  ro  attend  to.  At  hrft,  indeed,  new-fang^ied 
opinions  excited  curiofity,  and  that  curiufity  encouraged 
the  eagernefs  of  dliputation.  Takeaway  from  contro- 
verfy  all  importance  in  the  eyes  of  the  world,  and  it  will 
ibon  be  out  of  fartilon :  men  in  that  cafe  wiil  endeavour  to 
diftinguifli  themfelves  by  fomething different  from  an  idle 
hypothecs.  I  compai-e  thei'e  polemical  bigots  to  a  fct  of 
champions  in  the  public  games,  who  would  embrace  one 
anothirr  in  perfe.51  good  humour  if  left  to  themiclves  ;  but 
bemg  gazed  at  by  the  multitude,  they  cut  one  anotiier's 
throats.' 

*  To  avow  the  truth,'  faid  Tiberius,  *  his  reafonings 
have  almolt  convinced  me.' — *  What  troubles  me,'  laid 
the  emperor,  <  is,  that  upon  this  fyftem  the  zeal  of  a 
prince  can  render  no  fervice  10  religion.'  *  Heavtn 


140  RELISARIUS. 

*  Heaven  preferve  me,'  returned  Belifarius,  «  from  do- 
ing that  mii'chiet".  I  leave  him  the  iureft  means  of  referv- 
ing  the  intereft  of  religion,  by  making  the  foundnefs  of  his 
faith  appear  from  the  purity  of  his  morals  ;  and  by  hold- 
ing forth  the  tenor  of  his  government  as  an  evidence,  and 
indeed  as  a  pledge,  for  the  truth  that  governs  his  a6lions. 
By  making  men  happy  it  iseafy  to  make  profelytes.  A 
good  and  upright  king  has  a  more  powerful  empire  over 
the  hearts  of  men  than  all  the  pious  friends  of  perfecution 
collefled  together.  It  is  indeed  eafier  and  more  expedi- 
tious to  cut  men's  throats  than  to  perfuade  them  :  but  if 
bigot  kings  were  to  raife  their  voice  to  t!ie  Moft  High  with 
this  qucltion,  "  What  arms  would  youhave  us  employ  to 
make  you  adored  upon  earth  r"  and  ifGod  would  deign  to 
make  himfelf  heard,   the  anfwer  would  be,  *^  display 

YOUR  VlRTUf.S." 

As  foon  as  the  emperor's  fpirlts,  whlcli  had  been  much 
agritated  by  this  inquiry,  grew  calm  again  in  the  filence 
of  rctrtat,  he  recalled  to  mind  the  maxims  and  thecoun- 
fc'i's  of  the  religious  feclaries  that  furrounded  him  j  their 
enthuiiaflic  violence,  their  pride,  and  unrelenting  animo- 
iity.  '  What  a  contraft,'  laid  he,  <  has  Belifarius  exhi- 
bited !  A  man  grown  grev  in  battle,  and  yet  breathing  the 
iweetnefs  of  humanity,  meeknefs,  and  benevolence  !  where- 
as the  niinillers  of  the  God  of  peace  preach  nothing  but 
imperious  arrogance  and  implacablerigour  !  The  old  hero 
is  at  once  pious  aiul  juft :  he  loves  his  God,  and  wiflies 
to  fee  him  adored  by  all  ;  he  only  requires  that  the  ado- 
ration offered  upfliould  fpring  from  fentiment  and  free- 
will. Alas  !  I  have  given  way  to  a  falfe  zeal,  which,  at 
the  bottom,  was  no  better  than  a  rage  to  tyrannize  over 
the  human  underilanding.'' 

CHAP.  xvr. 

S  the  emperor  and  Tiberius  went  the  next  day  to 


A 


je-vifit  the  hero,  they  encountered  a  danger  which 
they  had  not  forefeen  ;  and  the  glory  of  delivering  them 
was  rel'eivcd  bv  heaven  as  one  triumph  more  to  crovvji 
the  fame  of  Belifarius.  The 


BELISARIUS.  I4.I 

The  Bulgarians,  who  had  been  chafed  no  farther  than 
the  foot  of  the  mountains  in  Upptr  Thrace,  no  fjoner  per- 
ceived their  country  free  from  th^ir  purfuers,  than  they 
fpread  themfelves  again  over  the  face  of  the  land.  One  of 
their  detached  parties  was  prowli'^g  in  quell  of  prey  n:ar 
the  retreat  offiiiifarius,  when  a  carnage  appeared  nnd  pro- 
mifcd  a  rich  booty.  They  immediately  hemmed  it  in  ;  in- 
tercepted the  two  travellers,  and  made  them  prisoners.  As 
they  furrendered  all  they  had  witiiouth;:htating,  the  plun- 
derers fpaied  their  lives.  But  for  their  liberty  a  ramom, 
not  in  their  power  to  pay  down,  was  expc6led,  and  there- 
fore they  were  led  along  in  captivity. 

But  one  way  ofefcaping  ou"  or  tneir  hands  without  be- 
ing known  occurred  to  the  erap-ror. — '  Conducl  us,'  laid. 
he,  '  to  the  place  whither  we  were  going :  taere  wc  fliall 
be  able  to  procure  the  ranfom  you  rcqu'.re.  I  will  an- 
fwer  with  my  head  that  you  have  no  lurpri/e  to  appre- 
hend ;  and  if  I  break  my  word,  or  give  you  reafon  to  re« 
pent  confiding  in  me,  I  agree  to  forfeit  my  life.' 

The  air  of  candour  and  m\iefty  with  which  thefe  words 
were  uttered  made  an  imprelfion  upon  the  Bulgarians  — 
*  Whither  would  you  have  us  lead  you?'  inquired  the  Bul- 
garian chief. — '  About  fix  miles  off,'  anfwered  the  em- 
peror, '  to  the  retreat  of  Bciifarius.' — *  Of  Bclilarius  1 
what !  do  you  know  that  illullrious  hero  ?' — '  Molt  af- 
fuiedly  I  do,'  faid  the  emperor,  '  and  I  dare  coun:  uson 
him  as  my  friend/ — '  If  that  be  thecafc,'  replied  tac  Bul- 
garian, '  you  need  be  under  no  apprchenlion  :  we  ^vUl  ac- 
company you  thither.' 

Belifanv's,  on  the  firit  notice  of  tlieir  arrival,  imagined 
they  came  to  carry  him  ofFafecond  time  5  and  hisaaugh- 
ter,  with  tears,  with  Ihrieks,  and  the  utmoll  conftei  nation, 
clafping  him  in  her  arms — «  My  father,'  faid  ihe, '  on !  my 
father  !  muft  we  part  again  ?' 

In  this  inftant  vv^ord  was  brought  that  the  court- yard 
was  filled  with  an  armed  force  that  ftood  in  formidable 
ranks  round  a  carnage.  Beliiarius  m^de  his  appearance : 
and  the  chief  of  tne  Bulgarians  immediately  accoitmg  hinw 
— '  Iliuftrious  hero,'  Taid  he,  *  here  are  two  men  who 

claim 


142  EELISARIUS. 

claim  an  acquaintance  with  you,  and  call  you  their  friend.' 
— '  What  are  their  names  ?'  laid  Belil'arius. — *  I  ani 
Tiberius,'  faid  the  young  man  ;  '  and  my  father  is  made 
arprifoner  with  me.' — •  Oh,  yes,  I  know  them,'  exclaimed 
Belifarius ;  they  are  my  neighbours,  and  my  good  friends. 
But  you  that  lead  them  hither,  by  what  right  have  you 
laid  hands  on  them  ?  VVhoand  what  are  you  ?' — *  We  are 
Balgaiians,'  laid  the  chief,  *  and  the  right  of  war  is  our 
claim.  But  every  thing  gives  way  to  the  efteem  we  liave 
for  you.  We  lliould  but  ill  ferve  a  prince  who  honours 
you,  if  we  tailed  in  refpeft  to  thofewhom  you  acknow- 
ledge. Thou  wonderlul  man  !  your  friends  are  free,  and 
to  you  they  are  indebted  for  their  liberty,' 

At  thele  words  the  emperor  and  Tiberius  made  an  ef- 
fort to  raile  their  arms  and  embrace  Belifarius :  the  hero 
felt  the  chains  which  reftrained  them. — '  And  how,'  faid 
he,  *  your  hands  bound  in  captivity  l'  and  he  unfettered 
them  immediately. 

Aftonifliment,  joy,  furprife,  and  wonder  together  loCs 
and  throbbed  wildly  in  the  bofom  of  Juftinian.  '  Oh,  vir- 
tue!' laid  he  to  himfelf,  *  powerful  virtue!  what  an  ir- 
refirtible  empire  is  thine !  A  poor  blind  old  man,  lurround- 
ed  with  wrctchednefs,  ccmmands  refpe6f  irom  kings  ! 
wrefts  the  fword  from  the  hands  of  barbarians,  and  frees 
from  chains  the  man  who — Gracious  God  !  if  the  uni- 
verfe  beheld  the  fliame  that  covers  me !  Alas  I  it  would  be 
too  mild  a  punilhment.' 

The  Bulgarians  were  defirous  to  return  the  booty  they 
had  feized. — '  By  no  means,'  faid  the  emperor  j  *  keep 
it  all  as  a  gift,  and  reft  allured  that  I  (hall  alio  add  the 
ranfom  we  had  ftipulated.' 

The  Bulgarian  chief,  in  taking  leave  of  Belifarius, 
aflced  if  he  had  any  commands  for  the  king  his  mafter.'— - 
*  Ttll  him  it  is  my  conltant  prayer  to  heaven,'  faid  Beli- 
farius, '  that  fo  valiant  a  prince  may  be  the  ally  and  the 
friend  of  my  Ibvereign.' 

'  Oh,  Beliiariusr  exclaimed  Juftlnian,  *  now  recovered 

4|^omhis  cunfulionand  furprife  ;  Oh,  Belifarius  !  what  an 

aic^ndancy  have  you  gained  over  the  hearts  of  men  J  Tl"ie 

very 


EELISARIUS.  143 

^-ei^  enemies  of  die  empire  efteem  and  love  you  !' — •  Do 
not  wonder,'  laid  the  hero  with  a  I'mile,  *  at  the  interelt 
I  have  with  the  Bulgarians.  I  am  upon  good  terms  with 
their  king}  and  but  a  few  days  fmce  we  fupped  together.* 
— '  Where  was  that,'  faid  Tiberius  ? — 'In  the  king's 
own  tent,'  replied  the  hero  3  *  I  forgot  to  menlion  tkit 
adventure.  As  I  was  on  my  journey  hither  I  was,  like 
you,  made  a  prifbner,  and  conducted  to  the  Barbarian 
camp.  Their  king  gave  me  a  generous  reception,  enter- 
tained me  handfomeiy,  and  lodged  me  for  the  night  un- 
<ier  his  own  pavilion  :  the  next  day  I  obtained  from  him 
a  guard  to  convey  me  fafe  back  to  the  place  where  I  fell 
into  the  hands  of  a  roving  party.' — '  How  P  i'aid  Juitl- 
nian,  the  king  of  Bulgaria  know  you,  and  not  detain  you 
with  him  !' — *  He  was  inclined  to  do  it,'  returned  the 
hero,  *  but  his  defigns  and  my  principles  did  not  correl- 
pond  with  each  other.  He  talked  to  me  of  taking  my 
revenge.  Who?  I  revenge  myfelf?  a  mighty  caui'c  indeed, 
for  involving  a  whole  country  in  flames  !  I  jeturned  him 
thanks,  as  you  may  imagine,  for  the  offer  of  his  alliliancc  ; 
and  now,  you  fee,  he  has  conceived  an  efteem  for  me  !' 

*  Oh  !  what  remcrie,  what  eternal  bitter  remorfe  for 
the  foul  of  Juftinian,'  faid  Juftinian  himfelf,  '  fhould  he 
ever  know  to  what  a  cruel  excels  his  ingratitude  has  been 
carried  !  Where  fliall  he  find  a  friend  like  you  whom  he 
habi  thus  bafcly  injured  r  Alas !  he  is  unworthy  of  any 
man's  regard  after  this  outrage,  this  horrible  injufticeT 

*  Do  not  exaggerate  the  matter,'  returned  Belifarius  j 
*  fefter  not  the  wounds  of  an  aged  emperor,  but  rather  re- 
i\)t6i  his  years  and  his  misfortunes.  He  was  furprifed  in- 
to that  proceeding  againft  me,  and  1  will  give  you  a  lit- 
tle hirtory  of  that  bufinefs.  There  are  tliree  remarkable 
aeras  in  the  progrefs  of  my  ruin.  The  firit  was  myen-^ry 
into  Carthage.  Being  mailer  of  Gilimer's  palace,  the 
ufe  I  made  ot  his  throne  was  to  convert  it  into  a  tribunal 
of  juliice.  In  lo  doing,  my  intention  was  to  give  weight 
and  dignity  to  the  laws  :  my  inward  fentiment  was  not 
legible  to  common  eyes  ;  and  when  a  man  fees  himlelf on 
a  throne,  iie  will  naturally  enough  have  the  appearance  of 

trying 


14-4  BELISAP-IUS. 

trying  how  he  likes  it.  That  v/as  an  indircretlon:  but 
it  was  not  the  only  one  I  committed.  A  very  vvhim/Ical 
kind  of  cui  iolity  prompted  me  to  dine  at  Giiimer's  table, 
a:ier  thet'sihion  ot  the  Vandals,  and  I  was  lerved,  in  tlie 
\mud  manner  of  that  court,  by  theofficers  ot  the  king.  It 
v/as  concluded  that  I  had  a  mind  to  luctced  to  the  vacant 
throne,  snd  appearances  gave  Icme  colour  to  it.  A  re- 
port of  this  loon  reached  the  imperial  palace.  In  order 
to  counterwork  the  efted  of  it,  I  defired  to  be  recalled, 
and  Juftinian  rrcompenlcd  my  fidelity  by  a  magnificent 
triumph.  Gilimcr,  with  his  wife  and  children,  together 
with  ail  the  acci-irailated  treafiue  which  for  a  feries  of 
years  rhe  Vandals  had  raviihed  from  the  nations  round 
them,  adorned  the  fplendid  pomp.  The  empercr.'reccived 
me  in  the  circus,  and  when  trom  the  throne,  on  which  he 
was  eievatttj  aii.idft  the  acclamaticns  of  a  people  almoft 
without  number,  he  firetched  forth  his  hand  to  his  liib- 
jtii  v'ith  that  air  of  majefty  and  fweetnefs,  my  heart  ex- 
ulted within  me,  and  I  faid  to  myfelf,  "  This  day's  ex- 
ample will  be  produ6l;ve  of  many  heroes  :"  Juftinian 
knows  the  rt  of  kindling  emulation  and  inflaming  the 
mind  to  glory  ;  the  honour  of  ferving  him  will  now  be  a 
prize  contended  for.  But,  alas!  the  triumph  which  was 
to  cnfure  profperity  to  the  prince,  began  already  to  pre- 
pare for  me  a  reveife  of  fortune  1  From  th.at  very  moment 
envy  ftocd  with  her  bow  bent  againfi:  me. 

*  A  courle  of  victory  for  five  yeais  togellier,  it  is  true, 
made  it  necefi'ary  even  for  envy  to  keep  fome  meafuie  of 
decency  j  but,  piovoked  at  jalt  beyond  all  patience  by  the 
fuccels  that  attended  me,  Hie  dared  to  fliew  herfelf  openly 
wi'hout  a^iy  fcnle  of  fiiame. 

*  The  Goths  were  chafed  out  of  Italy,  and  had  thrown 
themlelves  into  Ravenna  :  I  laid  fiege  to  the  place.  It 
was  their  only  reluge ;  and  there  pent  up,  it  was  im.pofilble 
for  them  to  eicape.  Envy  whifpered  to  the  emperor  that 
Rivenna  was  impregnable,  that  his  army  would  all  perifli 
before  the  town,  in  purfuit  of  my  fchemes  of  vain-glory  ; 
and  in  coniequence,  when  the  Goths  were  upon  the  point 
of  furrendering,  ambafladors  from  Juflinian  arrived  with 

proffered 


EELISARIUS.  I4.5 

proffered  terms  of  peace.  I  law  that  the  emperor  Kadbeeii 
impoi'ed  upon,  and  I  thought  it  would  be  treachery  ou 
my  part  to  lole  the  opportunity  of  making  Italy  our  own  : 
I  therefore  declined  to  ratify  the  conditions  of  peace;  th? 
town  capitulated,  and  I  was  accufed  of  trealon  and  re- 
Volt.  The  charge  had  forte  foundation,  as  you  perceive, 
ior  I  had  been  guilty  of  difobedience ;  and  there  was  ftill 
ifomething  more  in  It.  The  enemy  were  difaffefted  to 
the  king,  and  made  me  a  tender  of  their  crown*  A  pe- 
renriptory  refufal  might  imbitter  their  minds  j  I  returned 
a  flattering  anlwer,  and  that  feeming  acquieicence  was 
deemed  fmcere  at  court.  I  was  recalkd,  and  the  prompt 
obedience  with  which  I  laid  down  the  command  difcon- 
certed  my  enemies.  To  the  emperor's  feet  I  led  that  Very 
Gothic  king  whofe  crown  I  was  faid  to  be  ambitious  of. 
This  time  a  triumph  was  not  allowed  me.  I  i'elt  myfelf 
forely  mortified  on  the  cccafion.  I  do  not  mean  to  fay 
that  I  was  humbled  in  the  light  of  the  people  :  far  from  it; 
my  retinue  had  fufficlent  pomp,  and  the  acclamations  of 
the  public,  who  prelfed  in  crowds  about  me,  would  have 
fatisfied  a  more  afpiring  vanity  than  mine.  But  the  cold 
recepcion  I  met  with  from  the  emperor  more  than  hijited 
to  me  that  he  was  not  undeceived,  and  that  a  latent  fuf- 
picion  was  in  fecret  ftill  at  work  againftme.  Unluckily 
the  impi.eflion  made  upon  his  mind  was  not  a  little  aggra- 
vated by  the  enthufialHc  admiration  ot  the  people,  whofi 
idol  I  had  the  misfortune  to  be. 

*  And  now,  in  adifpaflionate  manner,  put  yourselves  in 
the  place  of  the  emperor;  ccnfider  the  prejudices  that  ha  i 
been  ini'ufed  into  his  heait.  Should  not  you  have  bee.i 
piqued  at  the  praile  which  reproached  yourlelf  r  Do  you 
think  the  fuppofed  ambition  of  a  fubje6t,  extolled  to  the 
very  Ikies,  would  not  have  given  you  umi^rage?  Should 
you  not  have  itcn  with  fpleen  andreientment  a  whole  peo- 
ple, wild  with  joy,  and  in  the  tranlbort  of  their  hearts  rak- 
ing revenge  agaiuil  yourielf ,  even  to  a  malice  of  enjoyment, 
by  giving  me  a  popularity  fupenor  to  the  triumph  that 
had  been  refufed  ?  Could  you  have  fliult  your  ear  to  the 
whii^evs  of  a  court  t;ommcnting  upon  the  inliik  otl'ercd 
N  t© 


14^  BELISARIUS. 

to  majeft)',  by  the  tumult  ci  appiaufe  that  followed  Ec- 
lilaiius  ?  My  good  neighbour,  the  greaufl  prirxe  is  but 
mere  man  j  the)  are  all  jealous  of  their  power  and  their 
fpicndour  j  and  it  Juftiniin  had  not  had  vigour  enough 
to  lubdue  the  little  paffions  of  his  heart,  and  to  paidon 
the  merit  which  provoked  him,  it  would  have  been  by  no 
means  a  matter  of  wonder.  And  yet  the  emperor  did 
conquer  his  jealoufies .  he  controUed  the  weakneflcs  ofva- 
rii'y  and  lulpicion,  and  orct  more  confided  to  me  the  com- 
mand of  hU  armies  and  the  defence  of  the  ftate.  But  ano- 
ther incident  occxuTcd,  which  gave  a  bias  to  his  judgment, 
and  made  me  the  object  of  his  fixed  averfion . 

*  1  had  finiflied  my  career;  and  Narfes,  whofucceeded 
file  in  Italy,  alleviated  all  the  pains  of  my  own  inactivity 
by  thevidlories  he  obtained  over  the  enemies  of  my  coun- 
try. In  this  fituation,  I  imagined  I  had  nothing  left  but 
to  clofe  the  laft  fcene  of  life  in  tranquiility  ;  when  of  a  lud- 
den  the  Huns  made  an  irruption  mto  Thrace,  and  ravaged 
all  the  country  round.  The  emperor  deigned  to  recolleft 
that  I  was  Itill  in  being,  and  in  my  old  days  I  was  charg- 
ed with  the  command  of  an  expedition,  by  the  event  of 
which  the  empire  was  faved  Irom  ruin.  I  covered  my 
grey  hairs  and  the  tuirows  of  my  forehead  v/itli  an  hel- 
met crulled  over  with  ten  yeais  re(t.  Fortune  proved  fa- 
vourable, and  I  repul  ed  the  Huns,  who  were  advanced 
vvithin  a  few  miles  of  tl.e  capital.  1  laid  an  ambufhfor 
the  enemy,  and  it  lucccedea  i'o  well,  that  I  was  re- 
garded by  the  people  as  a  guard. £n  god.  The  whole 
city  at  my  retuin  was  one  wild  uproar  of  joy  and  exul- 
tation, to  luch  a  degree,  that  I  was  much  alarmed  at 
the  fatal  conlequences  which  I  then  forelaw  :  but  how 
to  ippeale  the  violence  of  the  populace?  The  emperor 
was  old,  and  age  brings  infirmities  with  it.  The  ho- 
h'.urs  paid  me  by  the  muliitude,  and  the  excefs  of  ap- 
plaule  that  run  throughout  the  city,  were underftocd  by 
Jultinian  as  marks  of  difaffeftion,  plainly  indicating 
that  his  iubjefls  were  tired  of  his  reign,  and  wiHied  to 
fee  him  abd.cate  his  throne  in  favour  of  the  general  who 
defended  it.  Millruft  andjeaiouiy  took  poffeffion  of 
2,  him} 


BELISARIUS.  147 

Llm;  and,  without  ailedging  any  thing  agalnft  me,  he 
judged  it  light  to  remove  lb  dangerous  a  man  tVoni  his 
preience. 

'  While  Tpafled  my  time  in  obicurity,  a  plot  agalnft 
the  crown  was  dilcovered,  and  the  cuni'piratcrs,  without 
detefting  their  principal,  died  in  the  agony  ot  torture. 
But  the  filence  ot"  thoie  unhappy  men  was  interpreted  by 
my  enemies,  and  calumny  turnlfhed  out  a  copioua  lup- 
plement.  I  was  ordered  into  confinement  3  diicontent 
fpread  among  all  ranks  of  men,  till  at  length,  touched 
with  comp  iffion  for  all  my  lufferings,  the  people  expi  cfied 
their  feelings  without  referve.  Pity  was  ibc  n  inflamed 
to  indigni'lon,  and,  by  a  general  revolt,  the  emp-ror 
was  ccmpelied  to  give  me  up  to  the  clamours  of  my 
country. 

<  In  depriving  me  of  my  eyes  I  am  perfuaded  he  thought 
he  was  difarming  an  enemy.  That  I  was  never  dilaf- 
fefled  to  him  ..e  iVen  can  bear  me  witnefs  j  but  heaven, 
that  reads  the  hearts  of  men,  has  not  given  that  power 
to  princes.  You  accufe  the  emperor  of  ingratitude  and 
injuftice,  but  it  xas  his  misfortune  and  net  his  crime  to 
believe  appearances,  whxh  perhaps  would  have  mifled 
your  judgment  in  the  i'ame  manner.' 

*  Ycs,  he  is  miferable,  tne  moft  miferable  of  men  T 
faid  Julliaian,  throwing  his  arms  about  the  hero,  and 
ciafping  him  in  his  embrace. 

'  Wnat  means  this  burll  of  angulHi?'  inquired  Be- 
llfarius. — '  It  is  the  agony  of  a  heart  ready  to  break.,^ 
laid  Juftinian.  *  Oh,  Beliiarius!  that  unjuft  mailer, 
that  barbarous  tyrant,  who  rent  your  eyes  from  their 
lockets,  and  reduced  you  thus  to  mifery  and  want,  in 
bitternefs  of  forrow  and  repentiace  now  embraces  you, 
and  throws  himfdl  thus  upon  you  with  all  the  compunc- 
tion o''  fenllbility.  and  love.' 

'  Thou  my  IbvereignT  excb.imed  Belifarius. — 'Yes, 
I  am  he!  Oh,  my  friend!  my  deliverer!  my  proteclor! 
Yes,  thou  belt  of  men,  yes,  I  am  that  unhappy  prince, 
who  has  let  the  world  an  example  of  the  baiclt  cruelty 
and  ingratitude.  Let  me  thus,  proftrate  at  your  feet, 
N  z  be 


?4-8  BELISARIUS. 

be  humbled  to  that  depth  ot"  lownei's  which  my  gulh  de^ 
ftrves.  I  here  forget  my  crown,  diftionoured  as  it  is  by 
the  vileft  crimes  ;  I  am  unworthy  to  wear  it  longer, 
l^othing  nosv  befits  me,  but  thus  to  bathe  the  duft  under 
your  feet  with  my  tears,  and  hid^  my  opprobrious  head 
thus  overwhehned  with  fhame  and  infamy.' 

*  And  will  you  thus,'  faid  the  hero,  fupporting  his 
mafter,  who  was  almoft  fuffocated  witii  fighs  and  tears^ 
*  and  will  you  thus,'  faid  Belifarius,  folding  the  em- 
peror in  his  arms,  *  abandon  yourfelf  to  defpair  ?  Shall 
the  fenfe  of  a  paft  error  take  away  the  power  of  atoning 
for  it  ?  Oh,  my  matter,  you  are  plunging  yourfelf  in 
iiiam.e  and  diftradion,  as  if  you  were  the  firft  man  de- 
ceived by  appearances,  and  feduced  by  calumny  1  Tho* 
your  error  were  even  a  crime,  yet  why  degrade  yourfelf 
thus  ?  Wherefore  be  humbled  to  an  abjcft  wretch,  a 
thing  vile  and  abhorred  ?  You  are  my  Ibvereign  ftili ; 
refume  your  ftrength,  nor  let  the  recolleflion  of  an  un- 
guarded moment  rob  you  of  a  due  reverence  for  yourfelfj, 
and  the  true  fpirit  of  virtue,  In  this  confternation  ot* 
30ur  heart,  reflefl  upon  all  the  good  you  have  done  man- 
kind befcue  that  unhappy  moment,  and  let  the  remem- 
brance of  that  fuppart  you.  Belilarius  is  indeed  blind; 
but  twenty  nations  by  you  are  delivered  from  the  yoke  of 
barbarians  ;  the  calamities  of  the  empire  are  all  repaired 
bv  your  princely  beneficence  j  and  thirty  years  of  glori- 
ous itruggle  for  the  good  of  mankind  have  proved  to  the 
univerfe  that  Juftinian  was  not  a  tyrant,  Belifarius  is 
blind  ;  but  he  forgives  you  :  and  if  you  defire  to  repair 
the  injury  you  have  done  him,  the  means  are  eafy  and  in 
your  power.  Grant  me  only  one  of  the  many  prayers^ 
and  vQw§  J  offer  up  for  the  peace  of  the  world,  and  I  am 
more  than  indemnified.' 

*  Come  then,'  faid  the  emperor,  fnatching  him  again 
to  his  heart,  '  come  and  teach  me  to  expatiate  my  guilt! 
Come  and  exhibit  it  to  my  perfidious  court  in  all  its 
ftriking  colours  :  and  let  your  prefence,  while  it  is  a  liv- 
ing memorial  of  my  crime,  be  a  proof  of  my  repentance 
alio.'  "      In 


BELISARIUS,  -i^,9 

In  vain  did  the  hero  uk  every  intreaty  to  be  left  in  la- 
litude :  to  appeafe  the  anguifh  of  the  emperor's  mind,  he 
was  obliged  to  comply  with  his  requeft,  and  promiied  to 
accompany  him. 

Then  Jultinian,  adrefling  hlmfelf  to  Tiberius — *  Oh! 
what  a  debt,  what  an  unlpealcable  debt  do  I  owe  thee, 
my  friend  ?  What  recompenfe  can  equal  the  fignal  fer- 
vices  thou  haft  done  me  ?' — '  It  is  true»  my  fovereignj 
you  are  not  rich  enough,'  replied  Tiberius,  *  to  recom- 
penfe me.  Leave  it  to  Belifarius  to  make  me  retribution. 
Poor  as  he  is,  he  is  yet  mailer  of  a  treafure  which  I  pre-* 
fer  to  all  yours.' 

'  My  only  treafure  is  my  daughter/  faid  Bellfarlus> 
*  and  I  cannot  difpofe  of  her  better.' 

At  thefe  words  he  called  for  Eudoxa.  *  My  daughter,* 
faid  he,  <  fall  on  your  knees  to  your  fovereign,  and  fo- 
licit  his  approbation  of  your  nuptial  union  with  the  vir- 
tuous Tiberius.' 

At  the  name  and  fight  of  Juftlnian,  the  firft  emotioa 
of  nature  in  the  heart  of  Belifarius's  daughter  was  mixed 
with  dread  and  horror.  A  fudden  fhriek  burft  from  her  5 
(lie  ftarted  back,  and  turned  afide. 

Juftinian  advanced  towards  her — *  Condefcend,  Eu^ 
doxa,'  faid  he,  *  to  iiAen  to  me ;  deign  to  look  upon  me, 
and  you  will  fee  me  ahnoft  drowned  in  tears ;  in  tears  that 
gufti  from  the  keendl  anguifh,  and  will  never  dry  till  I 
d^fcend  to  the  grave.  Not  this  copious  ftream,  not  all 
the  good  I  have  done,  can  blot  out  the  memory  of  my 
guilt :  but  Belifarius  has  pardoned  me  j  and  now  Eudoxa, 
row  prove  yourfelf  his  daughter  by  following  his  ex- 
ample.' 

To  fee  the  lovely  Eudoxa  given  in  marriage  to  Tibe? 
rlus  was  a  degree  of  confolation  to  the  emperor ;  and  from 
that  moment  he  felt  his  heart  warmed  with  the  foothing 
pleafures  of  innocence. 

A  more  unexpe6f  ed  revolution  $ever  difeonceited  the 
intrigues  of  a  court.  The  arrival  of  Belifarius  threw 
them  into  trouble  and  conftcrnation.  *  Behold,'  laid 
Juftinian  to  his  courtiers,  <  Ice  here  again  the  hero  ;  be- 
hold 


150  EELlSARIUSi 

hold  this  upright  man  whom  you  made  me  condemn. —^ 
Tremble  ye  cowards  !  his  innocence  and  his  virtues  are 
now  manifcft  to  me,  and  your  lives  are  at  his  difpofal.' 
Palenefs,  grief,  and  fhame,  covered  every  vifage.  In 
Beliiarius  they  thought  they  beheld  an  Inexorable  judge  j 
they  dreaded  him  as  a  vindi6live  and  terrible  god. 

The  hero  continued  to  I'upport  the  lame  modeft  re- 
ferve  that  adorned  him  in  dilgrace.  He  never  deigned 
to  recognize  any  of  his  acculers ;  and,  honoured  to  his 
death  with  the  emperor's  confidence,  he  made  it  his  Itu- 
dy  to  obtain  an  aninefty  for  the  pall:,  and  to  infpire  his 
mafter  with  a  vigilant  attention  to  the  prefent,  and  an 
awtul  feverity  to  control  all  future  crimes. 

But  he  did  nor  live  long  enough  for  the  good  of  man- 
kind and  the  glory  of  his  mailer.  The  emperor,  quite 
enfeebled  and  dilpirited,  contented  himfelf  with  (hcdding 
a  few  tears  to  his  memory,  and  the  counfels  of  Beliiarius 
died  with  himfclf. 


FINIS.