The Persians of these parts had no taste for happiness; so that this modern Thermander was, when Forster met him, so thoroughly disgusted with his attempts at banishing all misery from among his countrymen, that he was willing, he said, to shut up his book should any other prospect of a maintenance be held out to him. When our traveller offered him a participation of his fare, he therefore joyfully quitted his profession as a wholesale dealer in happiness, and consented to superintend the labours of the kitchen, in which, by long practice, he had attained a remarkable proficiency. “The excellent services of my companion,” says Forster, “now left me at liberty to walk about the town, collect information, and frequent the public baths. In the evening we were always at home; when the moollah, at the conclusion of our meal, either read the story of Yousuf and Zuleikha, which he did but lamely, or, opening his book of spells, he would expound the virtues of his nostrums, which embraced so wide a compass that few diseases of mind or body could resist their force. They extended from recalling to the paths of virtue the steps of a frail wife, and silencing the tongue of a scolding one, to curing chilblains and destroying worms.” While Forster and the moollah were enjoying this peaceful and pleasant life, a large body of pilgrims from the shrine of Meshed suddenly inundated every apartment of the caravansary; and as this motley group of vagabonds were proceeding towards Mazenderan, directly in his route, he was tempted to join them and continue his journey, leaving his poor companion to subsist once more upon the virtue of his spells.