all should be encouraged to use their powers for their own and the
general good, and be advanced accordingly.

Many things had happened to strengthen this, my early resolve. One
incident I will now relate.

A beggar made many attempts to gain admission to my palace, but was
turned away with blows; his prayers that he might speak with me were
received with derision,--he was looked upon as a madman, and not allowed
to pass the outer gate.

This same beggar--Vyora, by name,--saved the life of a little boy, the
child of one of my leading men called Usheemee, "Men of truth."

The child would have been crushed to death under the wheels of a
chariot, moved by electricity and drawn by fleet horses,[1] had not this
same beggar rushed forward, regardless of peril, and saved the boy.

[Footnote 1: The beauty of our horses, the desire that
the chariots should not be cumbersome, and the steep
hills everywhere in Montalluyah, are the reasons why
electricity is not used alone. When the horses stop,
the electric action is suspended, and the momentum is
neutralized simultaneously by a governor or regulator.]

The man refused money, and for his sole reward requested that he might
be brought into my presence. The father told me of this, which seemed to
him the more strange inasmuch as the petitioner refused to say what he
required of me.

When brought before me, I asked Vyora what he sought? He replied that
his whole desire, his soul's longing, was to be appointed a teacher,
that he might instruct youth, and see little children grow wiser around
him.

I regarded the man attentively, and put many searching questions. He
answered all in a remarkable way, and gave proofs of intellect,
knowledge, and perception beyond the masters who had passed through the
required ordeals, and was so gentle and modest withal, that it was
delightful to speak with him.

The father of Vyora had possessed wealth, but from the cruelty and
oppression of an enemy mightier than he, had lost both fortune and life,
and at his death left a family dependent on charity.

The widow, a woman of remarkable gifts and keen sensibilities,
prostrated by grief, died soon after, carried off suddenly by a disease
called, "Karni ferola," "Absorption of the vitality," [1] which at that
time baffled the skill of the physicians, who indeed had seldom
suspected its presence till the disease was beyond cure.

[Footnote 1: Answering to