y! I cannot contain-ha! ha! ha! certainly a remnant of European arity: the female Tartar, dressed in skins, is in far more convenient ery. Their own writers have someinveighed against the absurdity of fashion; but perhaps it has never been led so well as upon the Italian e, where Pasquariello being engaged end on the Countess of Fernambroco, cne of his hands employed in ng her muff, and the other her he bears her train majestically by sticking it in the waistband of eeches.-Adieu.

e who maintain the opposite opinion Ly the happiness and innocence of uncultivated nations who live witharning; urge the numerous vices are to be found only in polished ry; enlarge upon the oppression, the y, and the blood which must necesbe shed, in order to cement civil ety; and insist upon the happy equality conditions in a barbarous state, preble to the unnatural subordination of a e refined constitution.

This dispute, which has already given rach employment to speculative indo- | ce, has been managed with much ardour, inot to suppress our sentiments) with little sagacity. They who insist that ⚫ sciences are useful in refined society I certainly right, and they who maintain barbarous nations are more happy thout them are right also: but when eside, for this reason, attempts to prove nas universally useful to the solitary

barbarian as to the native of a crowded commonwealth; or when the other endeavours to banish them as prejudicial to all society, even from populous states as well as from the inhabitants of the wilderness, they are both wrong; since that knowledge which makes the happiness of a refined European, would be a torment to the precarious tenant of an Asiatic wild.

Let me, to prove this, transport the imagination for a moment to the midst of a forest in Siberia. There we behold the inhabitant, poor indeed, but equally fond of happiness with the most refined philosopher of China. The earth lies uncultivated and uninhabited for miles around him his little family and he the sole and undisputed possessors. In such circumstances nature and reason will induce him to prefer a hunter's life to that of cultivating the earth. He will certainly adhere to that manner of living which is carried on at the smallest expense of labour, and that food which is most agreeable to the appetite; he will prefer indolent, though precarious, luxury to a laborious, though permanent, competence; and a knowledge of his own happiness will determine him to persevere in native barbarity.

In like manner, his happiness will incline him to bind himself by no law: laws are made in order to secure present property; but he is possessed of no property which he is afraid to lose, and desires no more than will be sufficient to sustain him; to enter into compacts with others, would be undergoing a voluntary obligation without the expectance of any reward. He and his countrymen are tenants, not rivals, in the same inexhaustible forest; the increased possessions of one by no means diminish the expectations arising from equal assiduity in another; there is no need of laws, therefore, to repress ambition, where there can be no mischief attending its most boundless gratification.

Our solitary Siberian will, in like manner, find the sciences not only entirely useless in directing his practice, but disgusting even in speculation. In every contemplation our curiosity must be first excited by the appearances of things, before our reason undergoes the fatigue of investigating the causes. Some of those appear

ances are produced by experiment, others by minute inquiry; some arise from a knowledge of foreign climates, and others from an intimate study of our own. But there are few objects, in comparison, which present themselves to the inhabitant of a barbarous country; the game he hunts, or the transient cottage he builds, make up the chief objects of his concern; his curiosity, therefore, must be proportionably less; and if that is diminished, the reasoning faculty will be diminished in proportion.

Besides, sensual enjoyment adds wings to curiosity. We consider few objects with ardent attention, but those which have some connexion with our wishes, our pleasures, or our necessities. A desire of enjoyment first interests our passions in the pursuit, points out the object of investigation, and reason. then comments where sense has led the way. An increase in the number of our enjoyments, therefore, necessarily produces an increase of scientific research but in countries where almost every enjoyment is wanting, reason there seems destitute of its great inspirer, and speculation is the business of fools when it becomes its own reward.

The barbarous Siberian is too wise, therefore, to exhaust his time in quest of knowledge, which neither curiosity prompts nor pleasure impels him to pursue. When told of the exact admeasurement of a degree upon the equator at Quito, he feels no pleasure in the account; when informed that such a discovery tends to promote navigation and commerce, he finds himself no way interested in either. A discovery which some have pursued at the hazard of their lives, affects him with neither astonishment nor pleasure. He is satisfied with thoroughly understanding the few objects which contribute to his own felicity; he knows the properest places where to lay the snare for the sable, and discerns the value of furs with more than European sagacity. More extended knowledge would only serve to render him unhappy; it might lend a ray to show him the misery of his situation, but could not guide him in his efforts to avoid it. Ignorance is the happiness of the poor.

The misery of being endowed with

sentiments above its capacity of fru is most admirably described in one c fables of Lokman, the Indian mer "An elephant that had been peca serviceable in fighting the battles of now was ordered by the god to wis whatever he thought proper, and the should be attended with immediate fication. The elephant thanked his factor on bended knees, and desired endowed with the reason and the fac of a man. Wistnow was sorry to hea foolish request, and endeavoured to suade him from his misplaced ambi but finding it to no purpose, gave h last such a portion of wisdom, as correct even the Zendavesta of Zoro The reasoning elephant went away joicing in his new acquisition; and th his body still retained its ancient fort found his appetites and passions ent altered. He first considered, that it w not only be more comfortable, but more becoming, to wear clothes; bu happily he had no method of making 1 himself, nor had he the use of speec demand them from others; and this the first time he felt real anxiety. soon perceived how much more elega men were fed than he; therefore he be to loathe his usual food, and longed those delicacies which adorn the table princes: but here again he found it possible to be satisfied, for though he c easily obtain flesh, yet he found it imp sible to dress it in any degree of perfect In short, every pleasure that contr to the felicity of mankind served only render him more miserable, as he for himself utterly deprived of the powe enjoyment. In this manner he led pining, discontented life, detesting hims and displeased with his ill-judged an tion; till at last his benefactor, Wistrs taking compassion on his forlorn situati restored him to the ignorance and the piness which he was originally forraad enjoy."

No, my friend, to attempt to introd the sciences into a nation of wan barbarians, is only to render them në miserable than ever nature designed th should be. A life of simplicity fitted to a state of solitude.

"he great lawgiver of Russia attempted improve the desolate inhabitants of eria, by sending among them some of politest men of Europe. The consence has shown, that the country was as unfit to receive them; they languished a time, with a sort of exotic malady; ry day degenerated from themselves, I at last, instead of rendering the country re polite, they conformed to the soil, 1 put on barbarity.

No, my friend, in order to make the ences useful in any country, it must first come populous; the inhabitant must go rough the different stages of hunter, epherd, and husbandman; then, when operty becomes valuable, and consetely gives cause for injustice—then, he laws are appointed to repress injury, id secure possession-when men, by the noon of those laws, become possessed of fuity-when luxury is thus introded, and demands its continual supply, - it is that the sciences become sary and useful; the state then cannot t without them; they must then be uced, at once to teach men to draw reatest possible quantity of pleasure circumscribed possession, and to rethem within the bounds of moderate

ment.

de sciences are not the cause of luxury, ts consequence; and this destroyer brings with it an antidote which resists rulence of its own poison. By assertthat luxury introduces the sciences, we t a truth; but if, with those who the utility of learning, we assert the sciences also introduce luxury, shall be at once false, absurd, and alous.-Adieu.

LETTER LXXXIII.

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

bu are now arrived at an age, my son, hen pleasure dissuades from application; it rob not, by present gratification, all e succeeding period of life of its happiSacrifice a little pleasure at first to e expectance of greater. The study of few years will make the rest of life mpletely easy.

But instead of continuing the subject

myself, take the following instructions, borrowed from a modern philosopher of China. "He who has begun his fortune by study, will certainly confirm it by perseverance. The love of books damps the passion for pleasure; and when this passion is once extinguished, life is then cheaply supported: thus a man being possessed of more than he wants, can never be subject to great disappointments, and avoids all those meannesses which indigence sometimes unavoidably produces.

"There is unspeakable pleasure attend. ing the life of a voluntary student. The first time I read an excellent book, it is to me just as if I had gained a new friend: when I read over a book I have perused before, it resembles the meeting with an old one. We ought to lay hold of every incident in life for improvement, the trifling as well as the important. It is not one diamond alone which gives lustre to another; a common coarse stone is also employed for that purpose. Thus I ought to draw advantage from the insults and contempt I meet with from a worthless fellow. His brutality ought to induce me to self-examination, and correct every blemish that may have given rise to his calumny.

"Yet with all the pleasures and profits which are generally produced by learning, parents often find it difficult to induce their children to study. They often seem dragged to what wears the appearance of application. Thus, being dilatory in the beginning, all future hopes of eminence are entirely cut off. If they find themselves obliged to write two lines more polite than ordinary, their pencil then seems as heavy as a mill-stone, and they spend ten years in turning two or three periods with propriety.

These persons are most at a loss when a banquet is almost over; the plate and the dice go round, that the number of little verses, which each is obliged to repeat, may be determined by chance. The booby, when it comes to his turn, appears quite stupid and insensible. The company divert themselves with his confusion; and sneers, winks, and whispers are circulated at his expense. As for him, he opens a pair of large heavy eyes, stares at all about

him, and even offers to join in the laugh, without ever considering himself as the burden of all their good humour.

"But it is of no importance to read much, except you be regular in your reading. If it be interrupted for any consider able time, it can never be attended with proper improvement. There are some who study for one day with intense application, and repose themselves for ten days after. But wisdom is a coquette, and must be courted with unabating assiduity.

"It was a saying of the ancients, that a man never opens a book without reaping some advantage by it. I say with them, that every book can serve to make us more expert, except romances, and these are no better than instruments of debauchery. They are dangerous fictions, where love is the ruling passion.

"The most indecent strokes there pass for turns of wit; intrigue and criminal liberties for gallantry and politeness. Assignations, and even villainy, are put in such strong lights, as may inspire even grown men with the strongest passion; how much more, therefore, ought the youth of either sex to dread them, whose reason is so weak, and whose hearts are so susceptible of passion?

"To slip in by a back-door, or leap a wall, are accomplishments that, when handsomely set off, enchant a young heart. It is true, the plot is commonly wound up by a marriage, concluded with the consent of parents, and adjusted by every ceremony prescribed by law. But as in the body of the work there are many passages that offend good morals, overthrow laudable customs, violate the laws, and destroy the duties most essential to society, virtue is thereby exposed to the most dangerous attacks.

inculcate virtue by so leaky a vehic author must be a philosopher of th rank. But in our age we can find ba first-rate philosophers.

"Avoid such performances when assumes the face of virtue: seek w and knowledge, without ever thinkir have found them. A man is wise, he continues in the pursuit of wis but when he once fancies that he has the object of his inquiry, he then be a fool. Learn to pursue virtue frot man that is blind, who never makes without first examining the ground his staff.

"The world is like a vast sea; mai like a vessel sailing on its tempes bosom. Our prudence is its sails sciences serve us for oars, good o fortune are the favourable or con winds, and judgment is the rudder; out this last the vessel is tossed by billow, and will find shipwreck in breeze. In a word, obscurity and gence are the parents of vigilance economy; vigilance and economy of r and honour; riches and honour of Į and luxury; pride and luxury of impi and idleness; and impurity and idle again produce indigence and obscu Such are the revolutions of life.”—Ad

LETTER LXXXIV.

From Lien Chi Altangi to Fum Hoam, I President of the Ceremonial Academy Pekin in China.

I FANCY the character of a poet is in ev country the same: fond of enjoying present, careless of the future; his e versation that of a man of sense, his act those of a fool; of fortitude able to sta unmoved at the bursting of an earthqual yet of sensibility to be affected by t breaking of a teacup. Such is his d racter, which, considered in every g is the very opposite of that which leads riches.

The poets of the West are as rem able for their indigence as their ger and yet, among the numerous be designed to relieve the poor, I have tri of but one erected for the benefit of cayed authors. This was founded by Fo

an VIII., and called THE RETREAT THE INCURABLES; intimating, that it equally impossible to reclaim the ents who sued for reception from erty or from poetry. To be sincere, e I to send you an account of the lives the Western poets, either ancient or lern, I fancy you would think me ployed in collecting materials for a ory of human wretchedness. Homer is the first poet and beggar of e among the ancients: he was blind, I sing his ballads about the streets; :iis observed, that his mouth was re frequently filled with verses than thbread. Plautus, the comic poet, was tter off, he had two trades; he was a et for his diversion, and helped to turn a order to gain a livelihood. Terence slave; and Boethius died in a gaol. Among the Italians, Paulo Borghese, most as good a poet as Tasso, knew en different trades, and yet died behe could get employment in none. himself, who had the most amiable ter of all poets, has often been to borrow a crown from some in order to pay for a month's subroe: he has left us a pretty sonnet, sed to his cat, in which he begs the of her eyes to write by, being too to afford himself a candle. But roglio, poor Bentivoglio! chiefly ds our pity. His comedies will with the Italian language: he dissia noble fortune in acts of charity benevolence; but, falling into misery old age, was refused to be admitted an hospital which he himself had ''.

Spain, it is said, the great Cervantes of hunger; and it is certain that the us Camoens ended his days in an hal.

If we turn to France, we shall there find stronger instances of the ingratitude the public. Vaugelas, one of the poliwriters and one of the honestest men As time, was surnamed the Owl, from being obliged to keep within all day, I venture out only by night, through r of his creditors. His last will is *remarkable. After having bequeathed his worldly substance to the discharg

ing his debts, he goes on thus: "But, as there still may remain some creditors unpaid, even after all that I have shall be disposed of, in such a case it is my last will, that my body should be sold to the surgeons to the best advantage, and that the purchase should go to the discharging those debts which I owe to society; so that if I could not, while living, at least when dead I may be useful."

Cassandre was one of the greatest geniuses of his time, yet all his merit could not procure him a bare subsistence. Being by degrees driven into an hatred of all mankind, from the little pity he found amongst them, he even ventured at last ungratefully to impute his calamities to Providence. In his last agonies, when the priest entreated him to rely on the justice of Heaven, and ask mercy from him that made him,-"If God," replies he, "has shown me no justice here, what reason have I to expect any from him hereafter?" But being answered, that a suspension of justice was no argument that should induce us to doubt of its reality,-"Let me entreat you," continued his confessor, "by all that is dear, to be reconciled to God, your father, your maker, and friend.”.

No,” replied the exasperated wretch, "you know the manner in which he left me to live; and," pointing to the straw on which he was stretched, "you see the manner in which he leaves me to die!"

But the sufferings of the poet in other countries is nothing when compared to his distresses here; the names of Spenser and Otway, Butler and Dryden, are every day mentioned as a national reproach: some of them lived in a state of precarious indigence, and others literally died of hunger.

At present the few poets of England no longer depend on the great for subsistence; they have now no other patrons but the public, and the public, collectively considered, is a good and a generous master. It is, indeed, too frequently mis. taken as to the merits of every candidate for favour; but to make amends, it is never mistaken long. A performance, indeed, may be forced for a time into reputation, but, destitute of real merit, it soon sinks; time, the touchstone of what