do with my inferior what I like," is the principle of Asiatic
government--its ambition, its morality. Hence, every man, finding
himself between two enemies, is obliged to conceal his thoughts, as he
hides his money. Hence every man plays the hypocrite before the
powerful; every man endeavours to force from others a present by tyranny
or accusation. Hence the Tartar of this country will not move a step,
but with the hope of gain; will not give you so much as a cucumber,
without expecting a present in return.

Insolent to rudeness with every one who is not in power, he is mean and
slavish before rank or a full purse. He sows flattery by handfuls; he
will give you his house, his children, his soul, to get rid of a
difficulty, and if he does any body a service, it is sure to be from
motives of interest.

In money matters (this is the weakest side of a Tartar) a ducat is the
touchstone of his fidelity; and it is difficult to imagine the extent of
their greediness for profit! The Armenian character is yet a thousand
times more vile than theirs; but the Tartars hardly yield to them in
corruption and greediness--and this is saying a good deal. Is it
surprising that, beholding from infancy such examples, Ammalat--though
he has retained the detestation of meanness natural to pure
blood--should have adopted concealment as an indispensable arm against
open malevolence and secret villany? The sacred ties of relationship do
not exist for Asiatics. With them, the son is the slave of the
father--the brother is a rival. No one trusts his neighbour, because
there is no faith in any man. Jealousy of their wives, and dread of
espionage, destroy brotherly love and friendship. The child brought up
by his slave-mother--never experiencing a father's caress, and
afterwards estranged by the Arabian alphabet, (education,) hides his
feelings in his own heart even from his companions; from his childhood,
thinks only for himself; from the first beard are every door, every
heart shut for him: husbands look askance at him, women fly from him as
from a wild beast, and the first and most innocent emotions of his
heart, the first voice of nature, the first movements of his
feelings--all these have become crimes in the eyes of Mahometan
superstition. He dares not discover them to a relation, or confide them
to a friend.... He must even weep in secret.

All this I say, my sweet Maria, to excuse Ammalat: he has already lived
a year and a half in my hous