LETTER XXVII.

HAVING considered your sincere and zealous friend, who from the report of others is attached to the laudable qualities of that collection of virtues, and is ever desireous of reach­ing your delightful presence, as a good and wise man, you were pleased to make mention of me in the margin of your letter to the asylum of friends Shaikh Fazilalla. It laid the foundation of affection and friendship. But I was astonished that a man of excellence and perfection should form a connexion with a person that is ignorant and weak. What am I to that eminent personage? Unless perhaps from that friendly letter, which was expressed in loose and low language, my omissions and errors have come into your transforming sight. You have therefore perhaps expressed yourself ironically; and God knows that in the art of poetry I am a mere beggar, and have spent my life as a clerk. To boast of my skill before great­ness which is possessed of perfection in learning is perfect impudence.

DISTICH.
“Behold how impudent a fellow I am who sent as a present
“To the Ruby of Badukhshan, a piece of painted earthen ware”

I expect from that fund of excellence and generosity that, draw­ing the pen of forgiveness through the errors and omissions of this destitute creature, you will be so kind as correct them.

DISTICH.
“Your look is like the Philosophers stone; if you behold,
“My base coin becomes gold.

From your general goodness, I am hopeful that; considering me an affectionate friend amongst these who bless you and wish you well, you will not, until the time of obtaining the honor of your delightful presence, allow me to be forgotten by your generous soul. Farther what should I represent?