the Ketkodeh was now performing towards him; and when he quits the Khan's presence, he acts the despot to those below him; and so the comedy goes on from one class to another, each content to become the slave, that he may in his turn play the monarch.

From Kush Kand to Nickpy is a short stage, where I arrived early in the morning; and the only accommodation I could find was a three-walled shelter, without any roof, which had been taken down for fire-wood by the troops passing that way. These are complete destructives, having full licence to help themselves wherever they come; which they do without mercy, having no regular pay. Being without commissariat or clothing stores, they may be deemed merely a marching rabble, kept together by dint of the bastinado; a host of locusts, wasting and destroying. The poor villagers fly from their approach as from the pestilence. They had completely sacked this village, and with difficulty did I find supplies from Nickpy to Sershem.

There is no country so abounds with ruins, perhaps, as Persia; partly occasioned by plague, partly by oppression; the mud walls soon melt

away into their native soil, there being no cement of any kind, nor straw to bind them. Here I met another "kafelah" of pilgrims, similar to the one already alluded to as the Meshedees, bearing the Mahomedan standard of the Crescent and the hand of Ali. Some of the females were seated in “kajawahs,” a sort of panniers slung over the horse, just large enough to take a woman. They must be nicely poised, and the unequal weight is generally made up by a large stone. I need not say they are well covered over with a shawl or wrapper, according to the quality of the occupant. When I first saw these things, and had no idea of the panniers' contents, I enquired of the muleteer what he was conveying so carefully? "Zan ast Sahib." "A woman!" I exclaimed. Up starts the female, not only to my great astonishment, but nearly upsetting her companion on the other side.

I do love the vagabondising about in the Persian villages, which I have done for months at a time; and so fascinated was I with this rustic life, that I had a notion of becoming a Ketkodeh myself. This wish was somewhat cooled by what I saw at Sardaha, where his authority went for nothing in a trifling dispute amongst the natives; for an

object of but small value they came to broken heads and bloody strife. So earnest are the Persians in every thing that regards pelf, that the combatants fought furiously for a coin of small amount. The incident amused me. For money they have such an "itching palm," that it is dangerous to trust even confidential servants.

Still I liked to be amongst the Persians, and memory loves to dwell on my Asiatic travel. Sometimes breakfasting on a grassy knoll by the brook's side, the wallet is turned out for some cold rice of yesterday's meal, the village supplying bread and "moss" or sour milk-a most delicious beverage. I like this original mode of feeding; there is something so unaffected in partaking of such simple supplies; nature is sustained, not loaded with food. Sometimes with bridle in hand, the horse grazes at my feet, or presumes to dispute with me the grass which I occupy, whilst, at lazy length, I am smoking my pipe of ease. How superior all

this to the artificial misnamed

luxuries of life!

the servants in the distance greedily swallowing the remains of your meal; then girding on their pistols, adjusting the bridles, and giving notice of being ready to depart.

181

CHAPTER XIV.

PERSIAN AVARICE.

FROM the prince to the peasant the vice of avarice prevails to an eminent degree in Persia. Money is not only the great lever, but the very stamina of existence in this country; and the love of it is so engraved in the Persian character, as to amount to a perfect absorption of thoughts and ideas. I trace this to the despotic sway exercised by the sovereign over his subjects. The acquisition of riches may be deemed dangerous in Persia, and the victim is often marked out for spoliation, sometimes for death. The tenacity of keeping, and ingenuity in concealing money is remarkable amongst the Persians. I have seen

them clothed in rags; I have travelled with seeming mendicants, to whom I thought a pipe of tobacco to be a charity-the lining of his packsaddle being at the time stuffed with ducats. I never saw any people in whom the love of money was so inherent. To overhear their conversations, it is all about "pul"-money; and it is astonishing to all enquirers from whence they draw their supplies, being, as they are, without gold or silver mines, and the balance of trade being so much against Persia, as to require horse-loads of ducats being sent by almost every Tatar to Constantinople. On my first arrival in Persia, there was a very alarming scarcity of gold, owing to the heavy contributions imposed by Russia as an indemnification for the late war, amounting to eight crores of tomauns, or about three millions sterling.

The governor of Maraga, Jaffier Kouli Khan, died during my stay at Tabreez, and was supposed to have possessed immense wealth. The custom of burying money in the ground is not unusual in Persia, and in this way it was reported that he had deposited large sums. Whilst on his deathmat, being informed that his remaining days could be but few, nothing could prevail upon him to