royal establishment; and it is never without a jester, who enjoys an extraordinary latitude of speech, and, both in his dress and manner, assumes the habit and appearance of folly.  It is usual to laugh at the witticisms of these jesters, even when they are the most severe; and the sovereign himself respects their privilege.  The tribe to which Kerreem Khan belonged, speak a language which, from its rudeness, is denominated “the barbarous dialect.”  As this prince was one day sitting in public, he commanded his jester to go and bring him word what a dog, that was barking very loud, wanted.  The courtiers smiled at this sally of their monarch.  The jester went, and, after appearing to listen for some time with profound attention, returned, and said, with a grave air, “Your majesty must send one of the chief officers of your own family to report what that gentleman says:  he speaks no language except “the barbarous dialect,” with which they are familiar, but of which I do not understand one word.”  The good-humoured monarch laughed heartily at this jest, and gave the wit a present.  This anecdote, to which many similar might be added, shows that there is little difference between the office of jester at the modern court of Persia, and that which some centuries ago existed at every court in Europe.  A resemblance even in trifling forms merits attention, as it may lead to conclusions on the progress of knowledge and the condition of society; and from the character of their amusements, we may perhaps judge as correctly as from their more serious occupations, of the degree of civilization which a people has attained.  In the court there is always a person who bears the name of “story-teller to his majesty;” and the duties of his office require a man of no mean acquirements.  Though passionately fond of public exhibitions, the Persians have none that deserve the name of theatrical entertainments; but though strangers to the regular drama, their stories are often dramatic; and those whose occupation is to tell them, sometimes display so extraordinary a skill, and such varied powers, that we can hardly believe, while we look on their altered countenances and listen to their changed tones, that it is the same person, who at one moment tells a plain narrative in his natural voice, then speaks in the hoarse and angry tone of offended authority, and next subdues the passions he has excited by the softest sounds of feminine tenderness.  The art of relating stories is attended both with profit and reputation.  Great numbers attempt it, but few succeed.

The person whose office it is to amuse his majesty with these stories is always in attendance.  It is equally his duty to beguile the fatigue of a long march, and to soothe the mind when disturbed by the toils of public affairs; and his tales are artfully made to suit the disposition and momentary humour of the monarch.  Sometimes he recites a story of the genii; at others he speaks of the warlike deeds