Then turning to Martin, “What think you, friend,” said he, “whose condition is most to be pitied, the Emperor Achmet's, the Emperor Ivan's, King Charles Edward's, or mine?”

“Faith, I cannot resolve your question,” said Martin, “unless I had been in the breasts of you all.”

“Ah!” cried Candide, “was Pangloss here now, he would have known, and satisfied me at once.”

“I know not,” said Martin, “in what balance your Pangloss could have weighed the misfortunes of mankind, and have set a just estimation on their sufferings. All that I pretend to know of the matter is that there are millions of men on the earth, whose conditions are a hundred times more pitiable than those of King Charles Edward, the Emperor Ivan, or Sultan Achmet.”