a sovereign, in seasons of difficulty and danger, to hazard his life, and, if necessary, to die sword in hand in defence of the people committed to his care. And yet this good and considerate man would fain persuade me that the public weal ought to cause me no solicitude; that in devising means to promote it I should never pass a sleepless night, nor spare a single day from the pursuit of some low and sensual gratification. According to him, I am to be swayed by considerations of my own bodily health, and chiefly to study what may best minister to my personal ease and enjoyment. No doubt he would have me abandon the government of this vast kingdom to some vizier; he seems not to consider that, being born the son of a king and placed on the throne, I was sent into the world by Providence to live and labour, not for myself, but for others; that it is my duty not to think of my own happiness, except so far as it is inseparably connected with the happiness of my people. It is the reposs and prosperity of my subjects that it behoves me to consult; nor are those to be sacrificed to anything besides the demands of justice, the maintenance of the royal authority, and the security of the State. This man cannot penetrate into the consequences of the inertness he recommends, and he is ignorant of the evils that attend upon delegated power. It was not without reason that our great Sa'dí emphatically exclaimed, "Cease to be Kings! Oh, cease to be Kings! Or determine that your dominions shall be governed only by yourselves[1]."'
This ideal of kingship accords with the tenour of the numerous letters which have been preserved from Aurangzíb's correspondence. In one of these, addressed to his captive father, he says: –
- ↑ Bernier, pp. 129, 130.
