Page images
PDF
EPUB

uently happens that one of his little tirers sits down, big with the important ect, and is delivered of the history of life and writings. This may probably called the revolutions of a life between fireside and the easy chair. In this learn the year in which he was born, what an early age he gave symptoms Incommon genius and application, toher with some of his smart sayings, lected by his aunt and mother while yet ta boy. The next book introduces him the university, where we are informed his amazing progress in learning, his lent skill in darning stockings, and new invention for papering books, ve the covers. He next makes his perance in the republic of letters, and bishes his folio. Now the colossus is d; his works are eagerly bought y all the purchasers of scarce books. be learned societies invite him to beeamember: he disputes against some gner with a long Latin name, conquers he controversy, is complimented by l authors of gravity and importance, essively fond of egg-sauce with his becomes president of a literary club, cies in the meridian of his glory. boy they who thus have some little attendant, who never forsakes but prepares to wrangle and to praise st every opposer; at once ready to ase their pride while living, and their racter when dead! For you and I, nend, who have no humble admirer to attend us; we, who neither are, never will be, great men, and who do much care whether we are great men ; at least let us strive to be honest and to have common sense.-Adieu.

LETTER LXXV.

To the same.

IERE are numbers in this city who live writing new books; and yet there are sands of volumes in every large library read and forgotten. This, upon my val, was one of those contradictions ich I was unable to account for. "Is possible," said I, "that there should be demand for new books, before those eady published are read? Can there be

so many employed in producing a commodity with which the market is already overstocked-and with goods also better than any of modern manufacture?"

What at first view appeared an inconsistence, is a proof at once of this people's wisdom and refinement. Even allowing the works of their ancestors better written than theirs, yet those of the moderns acquire a real value, by being marked with the impression of the times. Antiquity has been in the possession of others; the present is our own: let us first, therefore, learn to know what belongs to ourselves, and then, if we have leisure, cast our reflections back to the reign of Shonou, who governed twenty thousand years before the creation of the moon.

The volumes of antiquity, like medals, may very well serve to amuse the curious; but the works of the moderns, like the current coin of a kingdom, are much better for immediate use the former are often prized above their intrinsic value, and kept with care; the latter seldom pass for more than they are worth, and are often subject to the merciless hands of sweating critics and clipping compilers: the works of antiquity are ever praised, those of the moderns read: the treasures of our ancestors have our esteem, and we boast the passion; those of contemporary genius engage our heart, although we blush to own it. The visits we pay the former resemble those we pay the great,-the ceremony is troublesome, and yet such as we would not choose to forego: our acquaintance with modern books is like sitting with a friend,—our pride is not flattered in the interview, but it gives more internal satisfaction.

In proportion as society refines, new books must ever become more necessary. Savage rusticity is reclaimed by oral admonition alone; but the elegant excesses of refinement are best corrected by the still voice of studious inquiry. In a polite age almost every person becomes a reader, and receives more instruction from the press than the pulpit. The preaching bonze may instruct the illiterate peasant; but nothing less than the insinuating address of a fine writer can win its way to an heart already relaxed in all the effeminacy of refinement. Books are necessary to cor

P

rect the vices of the polite; but those vices are ever changing, and the antidote should be changed accordingly-should still be

new.

Instead, therefore, of thinking the number of new publications here too great, I could wish it still greater, as they are the most useful instruments of reformation. Every country must be instructed either by writers or preachers: but as the number of readers increases, the number of hearers is proportionally diminished; the writer becomes more useful, and the preaching bonze less necessary.

Instead, therefore, of complaining that writers are overpaid, when their works procure them a bare subsistence, I should imagine it the duty of a state, not only to encourage their numbers, but their industry. A bonze is rewarded with immense riches for instructing only a few, even of the most ignorant of the people; and sure the poor scholar should not beg his bread, who is capable of instructing a million.

Of all rewards, I grant, the most pleasing to a man of real merit is fame; but a polite age, of all times, is that in which scarcely any share of merit can acquire it. What numbers of fine writers in the latter empire of Rome, when refinement was carried to the highest pitch, have missed that fame and immortality which they had fondly arrogated to themselves! How many Greek authors, who wrote at that period when Constantinople was the refined mistress of the empire, now rest, either not printed or not read, in the libraries of Europe! Those who came first, while either state as yet was barbarous, carried all the reputation away. Authors, as the age refined, became more numerous, and their numbers destroyed their fame. It is but natural, therefore, for the writer, when conscious that his works will not procure him fame hereafter, to endeavour to make them turn out to his temporal interest here.

Whatever be the motives which induce men to write, whether avarice or fame, the country becomes most wise and happy in which they most serve for instructors. The countries where sacerdotal instruction alone is permitted remain in ignorance,

superstition, and hopeless slavery. England, where there are as many books published as in all the rest of Eu together, a spirit of freedom and res reigns among the people: they have often known to act like fools; they generally found to think like men.

The only danger that attends a ma plicity of publications is, that some them may be calculated to injure ras than benefit society. But where wra are numerous, they also serve as a ch upon each other; and perhaps a liter inquisition is the most terrible puni ment that can be conceived to a liter transgressor.

The dunces

But, to do the English justice, there but few offenders of this kind; their p lications, in general, aim either at mend the heart, or improving the common w The dullest writer talks of virtue, : liberty, and benevolence, with estee tells his true story, filled with good wholesome advice; warns against slave bribery, or the bite of a mad dog; a dresses up his little useful magazine knowledge and entertainment at le with a good intention. France, on the other hand, who have I encouragement, are more vicious. der hearts, languishing eyes, Leonora love at thirteen, ecstatic transports, stol blisses, are the frivolous subjects of th frivolous memoirs. In England, if bawdy blockhead thus breaks in the community, he sets his whole frat nity in a roar; nor can he escape, ev though he should fly to nobility shelter.

T

Thus, even dunces, my friend, m make themselves useful. But there a others, whom nature has blessed w talents above the rest of mankind; capable of thinking with precision, a impressing their thought with rapin beings who diffuse those regards un mankind, which others contract and set upon themselves. These deserve eve honour from that community of wh they are more peculiarly the childre to such I would give my heart, since them I am indebted for its humanity. Adieu.

LETTER LXXVI.

rom Hingpo to Lien Chi Altangi, by the way of Moscow.

STILL remain at Terki, where I have ceived that money which was remitted re in order to release me from captivity. ly fair companion still improves in my steem; the more I know her mind, her eauty becomes more poignant: she ppears charming, even among the aughters of Circassia.

Yet, were I to examine her beauty with art of a statuary, I should find numhere that far surpass her; nature as not granted her all the boasted assian regularity of feature, and yet greatly exceeds the fairest of the atry in the art of seizing the affections. Whence," have I often said to myself, resistless magic that attends even rate charms? Though I regard the es of the country with admiration, interview weakens the impression; he form of Zelis grows upon my nation-I never behold her without crease of tenderness and respect. ence this injustice of the mind, in ring imperfect beauty to that which re seems to have finished with care? Vence the infatuation that he whom net could not amaze, should be ished at a meteor?" When reason thus fatigued to find an answer, my ination pursued the subject, and this the result.

fancied myself placed between two scapes, this called the Region of ty, and that the Valley of the Graces: one adorned with all that luxuriant re could bestow; the fruits of various ates adorned the trees-the grove ended with music-the gale breathed tume-every charm that could arise symmetry and exact distribution re here conspicuous,-the whole offera prospect of pleasure without end. e Valley of the Graces, on the other ad, seemed by no means so inviting; the tams and the groves appeared just as y usually do in frequented countries: magnificent parterres, no concert in grove, the rivulet was edged with ds, and the rook joined its voice to

[blocks in formation]

The most striking objects ever first allure the traveller. I entered the Region of Beauty with increased curiosity, and promised myself endless satisfaction in being introduced to the presiding goddess. I perceived several strangers, who entered with the same design; and what surprised me not a little was, to see several others hastening to leave this abode of seeming felicity.

After some fatigue, I had at last the honour of being introduced to the goddess who represented Beauty in person. She was seated on a throne, at the foot of which stood several strangers, lately introduced like me, all regarding her form in ecstasy.

"Ah, what eyes! what lips! how clear her complexion! how perfect her shape!" At these exclamations Beauty, with downcast eyes, would endeavour to counterfeit modesty, but soon again looking round as if to confirm every spectator in his favourable sentiments: sometimes she would attempt to allure us by smiles; and at intervals would bridle back, in order to inspire us with respect as well as tenderness.

[ocr errors]

66

[ocr errors]

This ceremony lasted for some time, and had so much employed our eyes that we had forgot all this while that the goddess was silent. We soon, however, began to perceive the defect. What,' said we, among each other, are we to have nothing but languishing airs, soft looks, and inclinations of the head? Will the goddess only deign to satisfy our eyes?" Upon this, one of the company stepped up to present her with some fruits he had gathered by the way. She received the present most sweetly smiling, and with one of the whitest hands in the world, but still not a word escaped her lips. I now found that my companions grew weary of their homage; they went off one by one, and resolving not to be left behind, I offered to go in my turn, when, just at the door of the temple, I was called back by a female whose name was Pride, and who seemed displeased at the behaviour of the company. "Where are you hastening?" said she to me with an

[ocr errors]

angry air; "the goddess of Beauty is here.""I have been to visit her, madam," replied I, "and find her more beautiful even than report had made her. -"And why then will you leave her?" added the female. "I have seen her long enough," returned I; "I have got all her features by heart. Her eyes are still the same. Her nose is a very fine one, but it is still just such a nose now as it was half an hour ago: could she throw a little more mind into her face, perhaps I should be for wishing to have more of her company. "-"What signifies," replied my female, "whether she has a mind or not? has she any occasion for a mind, so formed as she is by nature? If she had a common face, indeed, there might be some reason for thinking to improve it; but when features are already perfect, every alteration would but impair them. A fine face is already at the point of perfection, and a fine lady should endeavour to keep it so the impression it would receive from thought would but disturb its whole economy."

To this speech I gave no reply, but made the best of my way to the Valley of the Graces. Here I found all those who before had been my companions in the Region of Beauty, now upon the same

errand.

As we entered the valley, the prospect insensibly seemed to improve; we found everything so natural, so domestic, and pleasing, that our minds, which before were congealed in admiration, now relaxed into gaiety and good-humour. We had designed to pay our respects to the presiding goddess, but she was nowhere to be found. One of our companions asserted that her temple lay to the right, another to the left, a third insisted that it was straight before us, and a fourth, that we had left it behind. In short, we found everything familiar and charming, but could not determine where to seek for the Grace in person.

In this agreeable incertitude we passed several hours, and though very desirous of finding the goddess, by no means impatient of the delay. Every part of valley presented some minute beauty, without offering itself, at once

stole upon the soul, and captivate with the charms of our retreat. however, we continued to search,. might still have continued, had we been interrupted by a voice, w though we could not see from when came, addressed us in this manner :you would find the goddess of Grace, her not under one form, for she ass a thousand. Ever changing under eye of inspection, her variety, rather her figure, is pleasing. In contempl her beauty, the eye glides over perfection with giddy delight, and cap of fixing nowhere, is charmed with whole. She is now Contemplation solemn look, again Compassion humid eye; she now sparkles with soon every feature speaks distress; looks at times invite our approac others repress our presumption: the dess cannot be properly called beat under any one of these forms, but by a bining them all she becomes irresis pleasing."—Adieu.

LETTER LXXVII.

From Lien Chi Altangi to Fum Hoam, i President of the Ceremonial Academ

Pekin in China.

THE shops of London are as well furnis as those of Pekin. Those of Lon have a picture hung at their door, info ing the passengers what they have to as those at Pekin have a board to ass the buyer that they have no intent cheat him.

T

I was this morning to buy silk fo nightcap. Immediately upon enter the mercer's shop, the master and two men, with wigs plastered with pow appeared to ask my commands. were certainly the civillest people al if I but looked, they flew to the på where I cast my eye; every motion mine sent them running round the whi shop for my satisfaction. I inform them that I wanted what was good, they showed me not less than forty pic and each was better than the former, prettiest pattern in nature, and the h in the world for nightcaps. "My ve good friend," said I to the mercer, must not pretend to instruct me in sik

[ocr errors]

know these in particular to be no better an your mere flimsy bungees."-"That ay be," cried the mercer, who, I afterards found, had never contradicted a an in his life: "I cannot pretend to say at they may; but I can assure you, my ady Trail has had a sack from this piece us very morning."- -"But, friend," said "though my lady has chosen a sack Dom it, I see no necessity that I should rear it for a nightcap.' "That may be," turned he again; "yet what becomes pretty lady, will at any time look well na handsome gentleman." This short bapliment was thrown in so very seasonbivupon my ugly face, that even though liked the silk, I desired him to cut he off the pattern of a nightcap. While this business was consigned to journeymen, the master himself took on some pieces of silk still finer than I had yet seen, and spreading them bere me," There," cries he, there's by my Lord Snakeskin has bespoke fellow to this for the birthnight this morning; it would look charmingly waistcoats. "But I don't want a coat," replied I. "Not want a coat!" returned the mercer: "then Would advise you to buy one; when tcoats are wanted, you may depend a it they will come dear. Always before you want, and you are sure to well used, as they say in Cheapside." sere was so much justice in his advice, I could not refuse taking it; besides, silk, which was really a good one, reased the temptation; so I gave orders

that too.

[ocr errors]
[ocr errors]

As I was waiting to have my bargains easured and cut, which, I know not , they executed but slowly, during the terval the mercer entertained me with Be modern manner of some of the nonity receiving company in their morning owns. "Perhaps, sir," adds he, "you ave a mind to see what kind of silk is niversally worn." Without waiting for ty reply, he spreads a piece before me, thich might be reckoned beautiful even 1 China. "If the nobility," continues e. were to know I sold this to any ader a Right Honourable, I should cerinly lose their custom; you see, my

[ocr errors]

lord, it is at once rich, tasty, and quite the thing."-"I am no lord," interrupted I." I beg pardon," cried he; "but be pleased to remember, when you intend buying a morning gown, that you had an offer from me of something worth money. Conscience, sir, conscience is my way of dealing; you may buy a morning gown now, or you may stay till they become dearer and less fashionable; but it is not my business to advise." In short, most reverend Fum, he persuaded me to buy a morning gown also, and would probably have persuaded me to have bought half the goods in his shop, if I had stayed long enough, or was furnished with sufficient money.

Upon returning home, I could not help reflecting, with some astonishment, how this very man, with such a confined education and capacity, was yet capable of turning me as he thought proper, and moulding me to his inclinations. I knew he was only answering his own purposes, even while he attempted to appear solicitous about mine: yet, by a voluntary infatuation, a sort of passion, compounded of vanity and good-nature, I walked into the snare with my eyes open, and put myself to future pain in order to give him immediate pleasure. The wisdom of the ignorant somewhat resembles the instinct of animals; it is diffused in but a very narrow sphere, but within that circle it acts with vigour, uniformity, and success. -Adieu.

LETTER LXXVIII.

To the same.

FROM my former accounts you may be apt to fancy the English the most ridiculous people under the sun. They are indeed ridiculous; yet every other nation in Europe is equally so; each laughs at each, and the Asiatic at all.

I may upon another occasion point out what is most strikingly absurd in other countries; I shall at present confine myself only to France. The first national peculiarity a traveller meets upon entering that kingdom is an odd sort of staring vivacity in every eye, not excepting even the children; the people, it seems, have got it into their heads, that they have

« PreviousContinue »