“In the evening we went to pay a long-promised visit to Mirza Abulcasim, one of the most renowned Soofies in all Persia. We found several persons sitting in an open court, in which a few greens and flowers were placed; the master was in a corner. He was a very fresh-looking old man, with a silver beard. I was surprised to observe the downcast and sorrowful looks of the assembly, and still more at the silence which reigned. After sitting some time in expectation, and being not at all disposed to waste my time in sitting there, I said softly to Seid Ali, ‘What is this?’ He said, ‘It is the custom here, to think much, and speak little.’ ‘May I ask the master a question?’ said I. With some hesitation he consented to let me: so I begged Jaffier Ali to inquire, ‘Which is the way to be happy?’ “This he did in his own manner: he began by observing, that ‘there was a great deal of misery in the world, and that the learned shared as largely in it as the rest; that I wished, therefore, to know what we must do to escape it.’ The master replied, that ‘for his part, he did not know, but that it was usually said that the subjugation of the passions was the shortest way to happiness.’ “After a considerable pause, I ventured to ask, ‘what were his feelings in the prospect of death; hope, or fear; or neither?’ ‘Neither,’ said he; and that ‘pleasure and pain were both alike.’ I asked, ‘whether he had attained this apathy?’ He said, ‘No.’ ‘Why do you think it attainable?’ He could not tell. ‘Why do you think that pleasure and pain are not the same?’ said Seid Ali, taking his master’s part. ‘Because,’ said I, ‘I have the evidence of my senses for it. And you also act as if there was a difference. Why do you eat, but that you fear pain?’ These silent sages sat unmoved.”