EPISTLE

DEDICATORY

TO THE

SULTANA SHERAA.

THE EIGHTEENTH OF THE MONTH SCHEVAL, IN THE YEAR OF THE HEGIRA 837.

DELIGHT of every eye, torment of every heart, divine light of the mind! I kiss not the dust of thy feet, because thou seldom walkest, and when thou dost, it is only on the carpets of Iran, or with thy way strewed with roses. You are here presented with the translation of a book wrote by an ancient sage, who, enjoying the happiness of having nothing to do, thought proper to amuse himself with writing the history of Zadig; a performance which, I may venture to assure you, expresses much more than it seems to express, And I beg you will indulge me so far as to read it over, and then pass your impartial judgment upon it; for although you are in the bloom of life; though every pleasure courts you; though you are the darling of nature; possess internal accomplishments adequate

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to your beauty; though you are praised throughout the world from the night till the morning, and consequently have a right to divest yourself of common sense; yet you have, notwithstanding, a mind filled with wisdom, and an imagination uncommonly delicate. I have frequently heard you discourse more learnedly than the wisest dervise, with his venerable beard and pointed bonnet. You are discreet without being distrustful; mild and gentle without weakness; and beneficent with discernment: you love your friends, and do not make yourself any enemies. The lustre sprightly sallies of your wit never borrow any from detraction; you never speak or do ill, notwithstanding the prodigious ease with which you could do both. In short, your soul has constantly appeared as pure and faultless as your person. You have, moreover, a small fund of philosophy; which induces me to believe that you will better relish this performance, the work of a sage, than any other lady of your quality.

It was originally written in the ancient Chaldee, which neither you nor I understand; from whence it was translated into Arabic, to amuse the celebrated Sultan Ouloug-beg. This was at the time when the Arabians and Persians began to write the Thousand and One Nights, and the Thousand and One Days. Ouloug found most pleasure in reading Zadig; but

the sultanas preferred the Thousand and One. 'How can ye,' said the wise Ouloug, 'admire stories void of sense, and without meaning ?'-' Oh!' replied the sultanas, the less sense there is in them, the more they are in taste; and the less their merit, the greater their commendation.'

I flatter myself, great patroness of wisdom, that you will not resemble those thoughtless sultanas, but will deign to adopt the sentiments of Ouloug. I even hope that, when you are weary of general conversations, which have a great resemblance to the Thousand and Ones, I shall be happy enough to find a minute in which I may have the honour of speaking to you in the voice of reason. Had you been Thalestris, in the days of Scander; had you been the Queen of Sheba, in the time of Solomon; those kings would have been proud to visit you.

May the celestial virtues grant, that your pleasures find no interruption, your charms know no decay, and your happiness be everlasting!

APPROBATION.

I, THE underwritten, who have obtained the reputation of learning, and even that of being a man of wit, have read this manuscript, which I find, to my great mortification, is curious, amusing, moral, philosophical, and well worth reading, even by those who dislike romances: I have therefore thought proper to depreciate it, and have accordingly assured the Cadi-Lesquire, that it is a most detestable performance.