draws them towards each other. Fecundity is the end he proposes, and he
rewards with intoxicating delights those who contribute to the fulfilment
of his designs. What should we say to the favourite of a King from whom
he had received a beautiful house, and fine estates, and who chose to
spoil the house, to let it fall in ruins, to abandon the cultivation of
the land, and let it become sterile, and covered with thorns? Such is
the conduct of the faquirs of India, who condemn themselves to the most
melancholy privations, and to the most severe sufferings. Is not this
insulting Faraki? Is it not saying to him, I despise your gifts? Is it
not misrepresenting him and saying, You are malevolent and cruel, and I
know that I can no otherwise please you than by offering you the
spectacle of my miseries? "I am told," added he, "that you have, in your
country, faquirs not less insane, not less cruel to themselves." I
thought, with some reason, that he meant the fathers of La Trappe. The
recital of the matter afforded me much matter for reflection, and I
admired how strange are the systems to which perverted reason gives
birth.

The Duc de V----- was a nobleman of high rank and great wealth. He said
to the King one evening at supper, "Your Majesty does me the favour to
treat me with great kindness: I should be inconsolable if I had the
misfortune to fall under your displeasure. If such a calamity were to
befall me, I should endeavour to divert my grief by improving some
beautiful estates of mine in such and such a province;" and he thereupon
gave a description of three or four fine seats. About a month after,
talking of the disgrace of a Minister, he said, "I hope your Majesty will
not withdraw your favour from me; but if I had the misfortune to lose it,
I should be more to be pitied than anybody, for I have no asylum in which
to hide my head." All those present, who had heard the description of
the beautiful country houses, looked at each other and laughed. The King