It is a very mean spirit which fears obligation: we are under obligations of the most serious nature every day to the horse, the ass, the cow, &c. All the stuff persons now call spirit are the vulgar ideas of the lowest and least philosophical of human beings. What should I think of my deserted self, were I to constantly talk to Logmagi of obligation? I am proud to acknowledge all I owe to his zeal and obedience.
I am contented with the violence of my own character: it draws a line for me between friends and enemies.
There is at this moment a great kirkuby [uproar or disturbance,]—seizing recruits for the nizàm, and entering by force into all sorts of houses to seek for arms.
Will you see that I receive a dozen pair of spectacles like those you wear, six or seven of fine quality, and the others common black ones but with clear glasses: and a dozen like what I wear—not expensive.
Always employ me if I can be useful to you here. I expect to hear from you. When do you think of leaving Nice? My affair will not finish quickly, I am afraid. Your friend U. will get on: he is all information, energy, and talent; but the times are gone by for people to go the beaten track, and all is too late. In less than a year, it is more than probable that all the world will be at war.
The Prophet [General Loustaunau] is most comfortable in his new habitation: I have planted shrubs for him round the windows, divided the room in two, and made all new with an excellent sofa.
I must tell you a story about Logmagi. He was reproaching one of the mukers [muleteers] about some neglect of his duty—only abusing him, never touching him—when the fellow ran and fetched his pistol, which he presented at Logmagi to shoot him. Logmagi, with a wonderful presence of mind, vulgar perhaps, (but every one in his way—the muker was a vulgar man), turned into his face not his own face, and said—“No honest man would meet a blackguard face to face—that was his khurge” [match]. The bystanders roared with laughter, and the man ran away.