temper, by permitting him to expatiate upon all the modes of human misery. LETTER XC. FROM THE SAME. It is no unpleasing contemplation, to consider the influence which soil and climate have upon the disposition of the inhabitants, the animals, and vegetables, of different countries. That among the brute creation is much more visible than in man, and that in vegetables more than either. In some places, those plants which are entirely poisonous at home, lose their deleterious quality by being carried abroad: there are serpents in Macedonia so harmless as to be used as playthings for children; and we are told, that in some parts of Fez, there are lions so very timorous as to be scared away, though coming in herds, by the cries of women. I know no country where the influence of climate and soil is more visible than in England; the same hidden cause which gives courage to their dogs and cocks, gives also fierceness to their men. But chiefly this ferocity appears among the vulgar. The polite of every country pretty nearly resemble each other. But, as in simpling, it is among the uncultivated productions of nature we examine the characteristic differences of climate and soil, so in an estimate of the genius of the people, we must look among the sons of unpolished rusticity. The vulgar English, therefore, may be easily distinguished from all the rest of the world, by superior pride, impatience, and a peculiar hardiness of soul. are to "Some nights ago," says my friend," sitting alone by my fire, I happened to look into an account of the detection of a set of men called the thief-takers. I read over the many hideous cruelties of those haters of mankind, of their pretended friendship to wretches they meant to betray, of their sending men out to rob, and then hanging them. I could not avoid sometimes interrupting the narrative by crying out, Yet these are men! As I went on, I was informed that they had lived by this practice several years, and had been enriched by the price of blood: And yet,' cried I, I have been sent into this world, and am desired to call these men my brothers!' I read, that the very man who led the condemned wretch to the gallows, was he who falsely swore his life away; And yet,' continued I, that perjurer had just such a nose, such lips, such hands, and such eyes, as Newton.' I at last came to the account of the wretch that was searched after robbing one of the thief-takers of half-a-crown. Those of the confederacy knew that he had got but that single half-crown in the world; after a long search, therefore, which they knew would be fruitless, and taking from him the half-crown, which they knew was all he had, one of the gang compassionately cried out, Alas! poor creature, let him keep all the rest he has got, it will do him service in Newgate, where we are seending him.' This was an instance of such complicated guilt and hypocrisy, that I threw down the book in an agony of rage, and began to think with malice of all the human kind. I sat silent for some minutes, and soon perceiving the ticking of my watch beginning to grow noisy and troublesome, I quickly placed it out of hearing, and strove to resume serenity. But the watchman soon gave me a second alarm. I had scarcely recovered from this, when my peace was assaulted by the wind at my window; and when that ceased to blow, I listened for death-watches in the wainscoat. I now found my whole system discomposed. I strove to find a resource in philosophy and reason; but what could I oppose, or where di- The poor, indeed, of every country, are but rect my blow, when I could see no enemy to little prone to treat each other with tenderness; combat? I saw no misery approaching, nor their own miseries are too apt to engross all knew any I had to fear, yet still I was miser- their pity; and perhaps, too, they give but litable. Morning came, I sought for tranquillity. tle commiseration, as they find but little from In dissipation, sauntered from one place of others. But, in England, the poor treat each public resort to another, but found myself dis-other upon every occasion with more than agreeable to my acquaintance, and ridiculous to others. I tried at different times dancing, and riding; I solved geometrical problems, shaped tobacco-stoppers, wrote verses, and cut paper. At last I placed my affections on music, and find, that earnest employment, if it cannot cure,at least will palliate every anxiety." Adieu. Perhaps no qualities in the world are more susceptible of a finer polish than these; artifi. cial complaisance, and easy deference, being superinduced over those, generally forms a great character; something at once elegant and majestic; affable, yet sincere. Such in general, are the better sort; but they who are left in primitive rudeness, are the least disposed for society with others, or comfort internally, of any people under the sun. savage animosity, and as if they were in a state of open war by nature. In China, if two porters should meet in a narrow street, they would lay down their burdens, make a thousand excuses to each other for the accidental interruption, and beg pardon on their knees: if two men of the same occupation should meet here, they would first begin to scold, and at last to beat each other. One would think they had miseries enough resulting from pen ury and labour, not to increase them by illnature among themselves, and subjection to new penalties; but such considerations never weigh with them. But to recompense this strange absurdity, they are in the main generous, brave, and enterprising. They feel the slightest injuries with a degree of ungoverned impatience, but resist the greatest calamities with surprising fortitude. Those miseries under which any other people in the world would sink, they have often showed they were capable of enduring; if accidentally cast upon some desolate coast, their perseverance is beyond what any other nation is capable of sustaining; if imprisoned for crimes, their efforts to escape are greater than among others. The peculiar strength of their prisons, when compared to those elsewhere, argues their hardiness; even the strongest prisons I have ever seen in other countries, would be very insufficient to confine the untameable spirit of an Englishman. In short, what man dares do in circumstances of danger, an Englishman will. His virtues seem to sleep in the calm, and are called out only to combat the kindred storm. But the greatest eulogy of this people is the generosity of their miscreants; the tenderness, in general, of their robbers and highwaymen. Perhaps no people can produce instances of the same kind, where the desperate mix pity with injustice; still showing that they understand a distinction in crimes, and, even in acts of violence, have still some tincture of remaining virtue. In every other country, robbery and murder go almost always together; here it seldom happens, except upon ill-judged resistance or pursuit. The banditti of other countries are unmerciful to a supreme degree; the highwayman and robber here are generous, at least, in their intercourse among each other. Taking, therefore, my opinion of the English from the virtues and vices practised among the vulgar, they at once present to a stranger all their faults, and keep their virtues up only for the inquiring eye of a philosopher. Foreigners are generally shocked at their insolence upon first coming among them; they find themselves ridiculed and insulted in every street; they meet with none of those trifling civilities, so frequent elsewhere, which are instances of mutual good-will, without previous acquaintance; they travel through the country, either too ignorant or too obstinate to cultivate a closer acquaintance; meet every moment something to excite their disgust, and return home to characterize this as the region of spleen, insolence, and ill-nature. In short, England would be the last place in the world I would travel to by way of amusement, but the first for instruction. I would choose to have others for my acquaintance, but Englishmen for my friends. LETTER XCI. FROM THE SAME. The mind is ever ingenious in making its own distress. The wandering beggar, who has none to protect, to feed, or to shelter him, fancies complete happiness in labour and a full meal; take him f om rags and want, feed, clothe, and employ him, his wishes now rise one step above his station; he could be happy were he possessed of raiment, food and ease. Suppose his wishes gratified even in these, his prospects widen as he ascends; he finds himself in affluence and tranquillity indeed, but indolence soon breeds anxiety, and he desires not only to be freed from pain, but to be possessed of pleasure pleasure is granted him, and this but opens his soul to ambition; and ambition will be sure to taint his future happiness, either with jealousy, disappointment, or fatigue. But of all the arts of distress found out by man for his own torment, perhaps that of philo sophic misery is most truly ridiculous; a passion nowhere carried to so extravagant an excess as in the country where I now reside. It is not enough to engage all the compassion of a philosopher here, that his own globe is harassed with wars, pestilence, or barbarity, he shall grieve for the inhabitants of the moon, if the situation of her imaginary mountains happens to alter; and dread the extinction of the sun, if the spots on his surface happen to increase. One should imagine, that philosophy was introduced to make men happy; but here it serves to make hundreds miserable. My landlady, some days ago, brought me the diary of a philosopher of this desponding sort, who had lodged in the apartment before me. It contains the history of a life which seems to be one continued tissue of sorrow, apprehension, and distress. A single week will serve as a specimen of the whole. Monday. In what a transient decaying situation are we placed; and what various reasons does philosophy furnish to make mankind unhappy! A single grain of mustard shall continue to produce its similitude through numberless successions; yet what has been granted to this little seed, has been denied to our planetary system; the mustard seed is still unaltered, but the system is growing old, and must quickly fall to decay. How terrible will it be, when the motions of all the planets have at last become so irregular as to need repairing; when the moon shall fall into frightful paroxysms of alteration; when the earth, deviating from its ancient track, and with every other planet forgetting its circular revolutions, shall become so eccentric, that, unconfined by the laws of system, it shall fly off into boundless space, to knock against some distant world, or fall in upon the sun, either extinguishing his light, or burned up by his flames in a moment! Per haps, while I write, this dreadful change has begun. Shield me from universal ruin! Yet, idiot man laughs, sings, and rejoices, in the very face of the sun, aud seems no way touched with his situation. comet expected. That near Virgo wants nothing but a tail to fit it out completely for ter restrial admiration. Saturday. The moon is, I find, at her old pranks. Her appulses, librations, and other irregularities, indeed amaze me. My daughter, too, is this morning gone off with a grenadier. No way surprising; I was never able to give her a relish for wisdom. She ever promised to be a mere expletive in the creation. moon, the moon gives me real uneasiness; fondly fancied I had fixed her. I had thought her constant, and constant only to me; but every night discovers her infidelity, and proves me a desolate and abandoned lover. Adieu. LETTER XCII. FROM THE SAME. But the Tuesday. Went to bed in great distress, awaked and was comforted, by considering that this change was to happen at some indefinite time; and therefore, like death, the thoughts of it might easily be borne. But there is a revolution, a fixed determined revolution, which must certainly come to pass; yet which, by good fortune, I shall never feel, except in my posterity. The obliquity of the equator with the ecliptic is now twenty minutes less than when it was observed two thousand years ago by Piteas. If this be the case, in six thousand the obliquity will be still less by a whole degree. This being supposed, it is evident that our earth, as Louville has clearly proved, has a motion by which the climates must necessarily change place, and, in the space of one million of years, England shall actually Ir is surprising what an influence titles shall travel to the Antarctic pole. I shudder at have upon the mind, even though these titles the change! How shall our unhappy grand-be of our own making. Like children, we children endure the hideous climate! A mil- dress up the puppets in finery, and then stand lion of years will soon be accomplished; they in astonishment at the plastic wonder. I have are but a moment when compared to eternity; been told of a rat-catcher here, who strolled then shall our charming country, as I may say, for a long time about the villages near town, in a moment of time, resemble the hideous without finding any employment; at last, howwilderness of Nova Zembla ! ever, he thought proper to take the title of his Wednesday. To-night, by my calculation, Majesty's rat-catcher in ordinary, and thus the long-predicted comet is to make its first succeeded beyond his expectations: when it was appearance. Heavens! what terrors are im-known that he caught rats at court, all were pending over our little dim speck of earth! Dreadful visitation ! Are we to be scorched in its fires or only smothered in the vapour of its tail? That is the question! Thoughtless mortals, go build houses, plant orchards, purchase estates, for to-morrow you die. But what if the comet should not come ? That would be equally fatal. Comets are servants which periodically return to supply the sun with fuel. If our sun, therefore, should be disappointed of the expected supply, and all his fuel in the mean time be burnt out, he must ex- A man here who should write, and honestly pire like an exhausted taper. What a misera- confess that he wrote for bread, might as well ble situation must our earth be in without his send his manuscript to fire the baker's oven; enlivening rays! have we not seen several not one creature will read him all must be neighbouring suns entirely disappear? Has court-bred poets, or pretend at least to be not a fixed star, near the tail of the Ram, court-bred, who can expect to please. Should lately been quite extinguished? the caitiff fairly avow a design of emptying our pockets and filling his own, every reader would instantly forsake him; even those who write for bread themselves would combine to worry him, perfectly sensible that his attempts only served to take the bread out of their mouths. Thursday. The comet has not yet appeared; I am sorry for it: first, sorry because my calculation is false; secondly, sorry lest the sun should want fuel; thirdly, sorry lest the wits should laugh at our erroneous predictions; and, fourthly, sorry because, if it appears to-night it must necessarily come within the sphere of the earth's attraction; and Heaven help the unhappy country on which it happens to fall! Friday. Our whole society have been out, all eager in search of the comet. We have seen not less than sixteen comets in different parts of the heavens. However, we are unanimously resolved to fix upon one only to be the ready to give him countenance and employment. But of all the people they who make books seem most perfectly sensible of the advantages of titular dignity. All seem convinced, that a book written by vulgar hands, can neither instruct nor improve; none but kings, chams, and mandarines, can write with any probability of success. If the titles inform me right, not only kings and courtiers, but emperors themselves, in this country, periodically supply the press. And yet this silly prepossession the more amazes me, when I consider, that almost all the excellent productions in wit that have appeared here, were purely the offspring of necessity; their Drydens, Butlers, Otways, and Farquhars, were all writers for bread. Believe me, my friend, hunger has a most amazing faculty of sharpening the genius; and he T I who, with a full belly, can think like a hero, | the most terrible. They are composed of the after a course of fasting, shall rise to the sub-criminals and outlawed peasants of Russia, limity of a demi-god. who fly to the forests that lie along the banks But what will most amaze is, that this very of the Wolga for protection. Here, they join set of men, who are now so much depreciated in parties, lead a savage life, and have no other by fools, are, however, the very best writers subsistence but plunder. Being deprived of they have among them at present. For my houses, friends, or a fixed habitation, they beown part, were I to buy a hat, I would not come more terrible even than the tiger, and as have it from a stocking-maker, but a hatter; were insensible to all the feelings of humanity. I to buy shoes, I should not go to the tailor's They neither give quarter to those they confor that purpose. It is just so with regard to quer, nor receive it when overpowered themwit: did I, for my life, desire to be well serv-selves. The severity of the laws against them ed, I would apply only to those who made it serves to increase their barbarity, and seems their trade, and lived by it.-You smile at to make them a neutral species of beings, bethe oddity of my opinion; but be assured, my tween the wildness of the lion and the subtlety friend, that wit is, in some measure, mechani- of the man. When taken alive, their punishcal; and that a man, long habituated to catch ment is hideous. A floating gibbet is erected, at even its resemblance, will at last be happy which is let run down with the stream; here, upenough to possess the substance. By a long on an iron hook stuck under their ribs, and habit of writing he acquires a justness of think- upon which the whole weight of their body ing, and a mastery of manner, which holiday depends, they are left to expire in the most writers, even with ten times his genius, may terrible agonies, some being thus found to linvainly attempt to equal. ger several days successively. How then are they deceived who expect, from title, dignity, and exterior circumstance, an excellence, which is in some measure acquired by habit, and sharpened by necessity? You have seen, like me, many literary reputations, promoted by the influence of fashion, which have scarcely survived the possessor; you have seen the poor hardly earn the reputation they acquired, and their merit only acknowledged when they were incapable of enjoying the pleasures of popularity: such, however, is the reputation worth possessing; that which is hardly earned is hardly lost. Adieu. LETTER XCIII. We were but three days' voyage from the confluence of this river into the Wolga, when we perceived at a distance behind us an armed bark coming up, with the assistance of sails and oars, in order to attack us. The dreadful signal of death was hung upon the mast, and our captain, with his glass, could easily discern them to be pirates. It is impossible to express our consternation on this occa sion; the whole crew instantly came together to consult the properest means of safety. It was, therefore, soon determined to send off women and valuable commodities in one of our vessels, and that the men should stay in the other and boldly oppose the eneiny. This resolution was soon put into execution, and I now reluctantly parted from the beautiful Zelis, for the first time since our retreat from Persia. The vessel in our FROM HINGPO IN MOSCOW, TO LIEN CHI ALTANGI which she was, disappeared to my longing eyes, IN LONDON. WHERE will my disappointments end? Must I still be doomed to accuse the severity of my fortune, and show my constancy in distress, rather than moderation in prosperity? I had at least hopes of conveying my charming companion safe from the reach of every enemy, and of again restoring her to her native soil. But those hopes are now no more. Upon leaving Terki, we took the nearest road to the dominions of Russia. We passed the Ural mountains, covered with eternal snow, and traversed the forests of Ufa, where the prowling bear and shrieking hyæna keep an undisputed possession. We next embarked upon the rapid river Bulija, and made the best of our way to the banks of the Wolga, where it waters the fruitful valleys of Casan. There were two vessels in company properly equipped and armed, in order to oppose the Wolga pirates, who, we were informed, infested this river. Of all mankind these pirates are us. in proportion as that of the pirates approached They soon came up; but, upon examining our strength, and perhaps sensible of the manner in which we had sent off our most valuable effects, they seemed more eager to pursue the vessel we had sent away, than at tack us. In this manner they continued to harass us for three days, still endeavouring to pass us without fighting. But, on the fourth day finding it entirely impossible, and despairing to seize the expected booty, they desisted from their endeavours, and left us to pursue our voyage without interruption. Our joy on this occasion was great; but soon a disappointment more terrible, because unexpected, succeeded. The bark in which our women and treasure were sent off, was wrecked upon the banks of the Wolga, for want of a proper number of hands to manage her, and the whole crew carried by the peasants up the country. Of this, however, we were not sensible till our arrival at Moscow; where, expecting to meet our separated bark, we were informed of its misfortune, and our loss. Need I paint the situation of my mind on this occa. sion? Need I describe all I feel, when I despair of beholding the beautiful Zelis more? Fancy had dressed the future prospect of my life in the gayest colouring; but one unexpected stroke of fortune has robbed it of every charm. Her dear idea mixes with every scene of pleasure, and without her presence to enliven it, the whole becomes tedious, insipid, insupportable. I will confess,--now that she is lost, I will confess, I loved her; nor is it in the power of time, or of reason, to erase her image from my heart. Adieu. LETTER XCIV. FROM LIEN CHI ALTANGI, TO HINGPO, AT MOSCOW.* YOUR misfortunes are mine; but, as every period of life is marked with its own, you must learn to endure them. Disappointed love makes the misery of youth; disappointed ambition, that of manhood; and successless avarice, that of age. These three attack us through life; and it is our duty to stand upon our guard. To love, we ought to oppose dis. sipation, and endeavour to change the object of the affections; to ambition, the happiness of indolence and obscurity; and to avarice, the fear of soon dying. These are the shields with which we should arm ourselves; and thus make every scene of life, if not pleasing, at least supportable. Men complain of not finding a place of repose. They are in the wrong; they have it for seeking. What they should indeed complain of is, that the heart is an enemy to that very repose they seek. To themselves alone should they impute their discontent. They seek within the short span of life to satisfy a thousand desires; each of which alone is insatiable. One month passes, and another comes on; the year ends, and then begins: but man is still unchanging in folly, still blindly continuing in prejudice. To the wise man, every climate, and every soil is pleasing; to him a parterre of flowers is the famous valley of gold; to him a little brook, the fountain of the young peach trees; to such a man, the melody of birds is more ravishing than the harmony of a full concert; and the tincture of the cloud preferable to the touch of the finest pencil. The life of man is a journey; a journey that must be travelled, however bad the roads or the accommodation. If, in the beginning, it is found dangerous, narrow, and difficult, it must either grow better in the end, or we shall, by custom, learn to bear its inequality. *This letter is a rhapsody from the maxims of the philosopher Me. Vide Lett. curieuse et edifiant. Vide etiam Du Halde, Vol. ii. p. 98. derstand. This passage the editor does But, though I see you incapable of penetrating into grand principles, attend at least to a simile, adapted to every apprehension. I am mounted upon a wretched ass, I see another man before me upon a sprightly horse, at which I feel some uneasiness. I look behind me, and see numbers on foot, stooping under heavy burdens; let me learn to pity their estate, and thank Heaven for my own. Shingfu, when under misfortunes, would, in the beginning, weep like a child; but he soon recovered his former tranquillity. After indulging grief for a few days, he would become, as usual, the most merry old man in all the province of Shansi. About the time that his wife died, his possessions were all consumed by fire, and his only son sold into captivity; Shingfu grieved for one day, and the next went to dance at a mandarine's door for his dinner. The company were surprised to see the old man so merry, when suffering such great losses; and the mandarine himself coming out, asked him, how he, who had grieved so much, and given way to calamity the day before, could now be so cheerful? "You ask me one question," cries the old man, "let me answer by asking another: Which is the most durable, a hard thing, or a soft thing; that which resists, or that which makes no resistance?"-“ A hard thing to be sure,” replied the mandarine. "There you are wrong," returned Shingfu," I am now four score years old; and, if you look in my mouth, you will find that I have lost all my teeth, and not a bit of my tongue." Adieu. LETTER XCV. FROM LIEN CHI ALTANGI, TO FUM HOAM, FIRST PRESIDENT OF THE CEREMONIAL ACADEMY AT PEKIN IN CHINA. THE manner of grieving for our departed friends in China, is very different from that of Europe. The mourning colour of Europe is black; that of China white. When a parent or relation dies here, for they seldom mourn for friends, it is only clapping on a suit of sables, grimacing it for a few days, and all, soon forgotten, goes on as before; not a single creature missing the deceased, except, perhaps a favourite housekeeper, or a favourite cat. On the contrary, with us in China it is a very serious affair. The piety with which I have seen you behave, on one of these occasions, should never be forgotten. I remember it was upon the death of thy grandmother's maiden sister. The coffin was exposed in the principal hall, in public view. Before it were placed the figures of eunuchs, horses, tortoises, and other animals, in attitudes of grief and respect. The more distant relations of the old lady, and I among the number, came to pay our compliments of condolence, and to salute the deceased, after the manner of our country. |