"The happiness I enjoyed became known to him--became familiar to all--for with the true spirit of philanthropy, which knows no distinction of creed or country, I endeavoured to confer my benefits wherever they were most required; and the loving admiration with which I found my name regarded in every part of the globe, and the abundant pleasures I saw arise from my own exertions wherever they could be applied, created in me a degree of happiness almost impossible to be exceeded. He became aware of my extraordinary wealth, and was told of the beneficial effects it was producing. The emperor sent me word that a certain distinction waited my acceptance--with a proper humility I declined the favour. Surprised at the refusal, and desirous of tempting me into obligation, he caused it to be intimated to me that a higher honour would, if desired, be granted--this, in the same manner, and with as little consideration, I also refused. His astonishment increased, and his inclination to shackle me with the trappings of his own grandeur grew more intense. I was told that the highest honours to which a subject could aspire might at a wish be mine; and I need scarcely add that the offer met with the same result as its predecessors. No, my son! as Oriel Porphyry I had acquired almost boundless riches, and had lived in a state of happiness which left no desire ungratified--as Oriel Porphyry I had obtained an influence over the hearts of my fellow-men, compared to which the power of conquerors was an idle boast--and as Oriel Porphyry I had created for myself a renown beside which the glory of an emperor sunk into insignificance. What could be to me the baubles he sought to confer--the sounding titles--or the pompous privileges? They could not extend my usefulness a hair's breadth--they could not add to my enjoyments the fraction of a grain.

"To say that the emperor was not offended by my repeated refusals would be to give a more charitable interpretation to his feelings than would be true; but my behaviour seemed to him something so extraordinary--something so opposed to the spirit of his experience--and something so utterly incomprehensible to his notions of human nature--that he sent for me to be satisfied by his own eyes that there existed in the world what he considered so remarkable a phenomenon. He endeavoured to persuade me into a conviction that I did wrong, in not accepting the advantages, as he was pleased to call them, I might obtain; and I replied by describing the advantages that more justly deserved the name I already possessed. I asked if he could give me any thing of real value that was not at my disposal, and enumerated every good I was enabled to bestow. He reflected, and the more he reflected, the more he seemed to wonder. I do not remember the whole of our conversation, but it was of sufficient interest to him to desire my visit to be repeated.

Lady Eureka, v. 1 (of 3) — Part 33