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9 




KNIGHT'S 



E N G L I S II C L A S S I C S. 



THE CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



LETTERS 



FROM .V 



CITIZEN OF THE WOULD 



TO 



HIS FRIENDS IN THE EAST. 



OLIVER GOLDSMITH. 



A NEW EDITION, 
WITH OUIGINAL NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIVE WOODC;|pS. 



LONDON: 
CHARLES KNIGIIT & CO., LUDGATE STREET. 



MDCCCXr.. 




I.ONUON : 

I'li.iWJ by Wii.i.iAM I'l.oWKs and Sons, 
Silamloril Street. 



f f^ 



2. 









1 1. 



CONTENTS. 



LETTERS FROM A CITIZEN OF THE WORLD TO HIS FRIEND 

IN THE EAST. 
Letter I'-^i''. 

PliF.FACE ........... 1 

I. Introduction — Character of the Chinese Philosopher .... 5 

II. Arrival of the Cliinese Philosopher in London — His motives for the Journey — 

Description of the Streets and Houses .......'> 

III. Description of LondoTi — Luxury of the Englisli — Its Benefits — Tlic fine Gen- 

tleman — Tlie fine Lady .. ^. ...... ^ 

IV. English Pride — Liberty — An Instance of both — Newspapers — Politeness . II 

V. Eni^lish Passion for Politics— Specimen of a Nev/spapcr — Characteristics of tha 

Manners of difi'erent Countries ........ 13 

\I. Happiness lost by seeking after Refinement — The Chinese Philosopher's Dis- 
graces ........... 15 

VII. The tie of Wisdom only ta make vis liappy — Benefits of Travel upon the 

Morals of a Philosopher . . . . . . . . .1(5 

"N'lII. The Chinese Philosopher deceived in the Streets of London . . .IS 

IX. Licentiousness of the English witli regard to Women — Characterof a V/oTnan's 

Man . . . . . . . . . . . .10 

X. Journey of the Chinese from Pekin to Moscow — Customs of the Daures . 20 

XL The Benefits of Luxury in making a People more wise and happy . . 22 

XII. The Funeral Solemnities of the English — Their Passioi,' for flattering Epit.iplis 2' 

XI H. A \'i8itto Westminster Abbey ........ 2(! 

XIV. The Reception of the Chinese from a Lady of Distinction . . . .20 

XV. Against Cruelty to Animals — A Story from the Zendevesta of Zoroaster . 32 

XVI. Of Falsehood propagated by Books seemingly sincere .... 3.'5 

XN'II. Of the War between France and England ; with its frivolous Motives • . 35 

XA'III. Story of the Chinese Matron ........ 37 

XIX. Tlio English Method of treating Women cauglit in Adulter}- — The liussidu 

Method . . . . . . . . . . . Ji) 

XX. Some Account of the Republic of Letters in England . . . .41 

XXI. The Chinese Philosopher goes to see a I'lay , . . . . .11 



vi CONTENTS. 

LKTrKrt I'ACB 

XXII. The t'liiiipso Phllosojilicr's Son made a Slave in Persia . . . .17 

XXIII. The Englisli Suhsciiijtion in favour of the French Prisoners commended 

XXI\'. The Venders of Quack Medicines and Nostrums ridiculed . . . 

XXV. The natural Rise and Decline of Kingdoms exemijlified in tlic History of tlie 
Kingdom of Lao ......... 

XXVI. The Character of the Man in Black; with some instances of lils inconsisten 

Conduct .......... 

XXVII. Tlie History of tlie Man in Islack. ...... 

XXA'III. On tlie great Number of Old Maids and Bachelors in London — Some of the 
v^auses .......••• 

XXIX. Description of a Club of Authors . ...... 

XXX. The Proceedings of the Club of Authors ..... 

XXXI. The Perfection of the Chinese in the Art of Gardening — Description of 

Chinese Garden ......... 

XXXII. Of the Degeneracy of some of the English Nobility — A Mushroom Feast 

amongst the Tartars ........ 

XXXIII. The Manner of Writing among the Chinese — The Eastern Tales of Magazine: 
~ &c., ridiculed ......... 

XXXIV. Of the present ridiculous Passion of the Nobility for Painting 

XXXV. The Philosopher's Son describes a Lady, his Fellow Captive . . 

XXXVI. A continuance of his Correspondence. The Beautiful Captive consents to 
marry her Lord ......... 

XXXVII. The Correspondence continued — The Philosoplier's Son begins to be disgusted 
in the jiursuit of Wisdom — An Allegory to prove its futility . . 

XXXVIII. The Chinese Philosopher praises the justice of a late British Sentence . 

XXXIX. Descri])tiou of true Politeness — Two Letters of differert countries, by Ladies 
falsely thought polite at home ....... 

XL. The English still have Poets, though not 'S'ersifiers .... 

XLI. The Behaviour of the Congregation in St. Paul's Cathedral at Prayers 

XLII. The History of China more replete with great Actions than that of Europe 

XLIII. An Apostrophe on the supposed Death of Voltaire .... 

XLIV. Wisdom and Precept may lessen our Miseries, but can never increase our 
positive Satisfactions ........ 

XL^^ The Ardour of the People of London in running after Sights and Monsters 

XLVI. The Looking Glass of Lao ; a Dream ...... 

|XLVII. Misery best relieved by Dissipation ...... 

XLVIII. The Absurdity of Persons in high Station piusviing Employments beneatl 
them, exemplified in a Fairy Tale ...... 

XLIX. The Fairy Tale continued ........ 

L. An Attempt to define what is meant by English Libeity . 

LI. A Bookseller's '".'isit to the Chinese ...... 



CONTENTS. vH 

I.KTTKR Pack 

Lll. The Impossihility of distinguishing Men in England by their Dress — Two In- 
stances of this . • • . • • • • • .190 

Lll I. The ahsurd taste for obscene ami pert Novels, such as ' Tristram Slmndy," 

ridiculed . . . . . • • • • . .Ill 

LIV. Beau Tibbs — Character of an Important Trifler 113 

LV. His Character continued, with that of his Wife, his House, and Furniture . lit 

LVI. Some Thoughts on the Present Situation of AlVuirs in the dill'erciit Countries - 
of Europe . . . • • • • • • • . 11(> 

LVII. The Difficulty of rising in Literary Reputation without Intrigue cr Riches . 118 
LAIlI. A Visitation Dinner described ........ 120 

LIX. The Chinese Philosopher's Son escapes with the Beautiful Captive from 

Slavery . . . • . . • • • * .122 

LX. The History of the Beautiful Captive 123 

LXI. Proper Lessons to a Youth entering the World, with Fables suited to the 

Occasion . . . . . . . • • • . r2(> 

LXII. An Authentic History of Catherina Alexowna, Wife of Peter the Great . 127 

LXIII. The Rise or the Decline of Literature not dependent on Man, but rcsidfing 

from the A'icissitudes of Nature ....... 130 

LXIV. The Great exchange Happiness for Show — Their Folly in this respect of use 

to Society . . . . • • . • • • .132 
LXV. The History of a Philosophic Cobbler 134 

LXVI. The Difference between Love and Gratitude — Mencius and the Hermit — 

Story of the Fiddle-case . . . . . • • • . 13<5 

LXVII. The Folly of attempting to learn Wisdom by being recluse . . . 138 

LXVIII. Quacks ridiculed — Some particularly mentioned ..... 139 

LXIX. The Fear of Mad-Dogs ridiculed Ill 

LXX. Fortune proved not to be blind — Story of the Avaricious Miller . . IH 

LXXI. The shabby Beau, the Man in Black, the Chinese Philosopher, &c., at 

^'auxllall . . . . . . . . • . .14(5 

LXXII. The Marriage Act censured ........ 149 

LXXIII. Life endeared by Age ......... lol 

LXXIV. Description of a Little Great Man ....... 153 

LXX V. The Necessity of amusing each other with new Books insisted upon . . 154 

LXXVI. The Preference of Grace to Beaiily ; an Allegory 156 

LXXVII. The Behaviour of a Shopkeejier and his Journeyman .... 158 

LXXVIII. The French ridiculed after their own manner ..... 159 

LXXIX. The Preparations of both Theatres for a Whiter Campaign . . .1(51 

XXXX. The evil Tendency of increasing Penal Laws, or enforcing even those already 

in being with Rigour ......... l(J3 

LXXXI. The Indies" Trains ridicuh'd ........ 1(55 

LXXXII. The Sciences useful in a populous State prejudicial in a barbarous one . 1(57 



vlii CONTKNTS. 

I-EITKR TaOF 

LXXXIII. Some Cautions on Life, taken from a Moilcin Philosopher of China . . Kil) 

LXXXIV. Anecdotes of several Poets, who lived and died in circmnstanccs of wretched- 
ness. . • • • • • • • • • .171 

LXXXV. The trifling Squabbles of Sta_^e-Players ridiculed ..... 172 

I AXXA'I. The Races of Newmarket ridiculed — Descrijition of a Cart-Race . , 17.) 

LXXX^ II. The Folly of tlie Western Parts of Europe in employing the Russians to 

fight their Battles . . . . . . . . .177 

LXXX^'III. The Ladies advised to get Husbands — A Story to this purpose . . 178 

LXXXIX. The Folly of remote or useless Disquisitions among the Learned . . 180 

XC. The English subject to the Spleen . . . . . . .182 

[ XCI. The Influence of Climate and Soil upon the Temper and Disiiositions of the 

English . . . . . . . . . . . ISl 

XCU. The Manner in which some Philosophers make artificial Misery . . IS.') 

XCin. The Fondness of Some to admire the Writings of Lords, &c. . . . 1S7 

_ XCIV. The Philosopher's Son is again separated from liis beautiful Companion . 188 

XCV. Consolation to the Unfortunate . . . . . . . , IS!) 

XCVI. The Condolence and Congratulation upon the Death of the late King 

ridiculed — English IVIourning described ...... 190 

XCVn. Almost every Subject of Literature alread)' exhausted .... I'M 

XCVin. A Description of the Courts of Justice in Westminster Hall . . . ![)( 

XCIX. A Visit from the little Beau — The Indulgence with which the Fair Sex are 

treated in several Parts of Asia . . . . . . . 10(i 

I C. A Life of Independence praised . . . . . . .197 

CI. The People must be contented to be guided by those whom they have ap- 
pointed to govern — A .Story to this efl'ect . . . . . . IPl) 

ClI. The Passion for Gaming among Ladies ridiculed ..... 200 

cm. The Chinese Philosopher begins to think of quitting England . . . 20i 

CIV. The Arts some make use of to appear Learned . ..... 202 

CV. The intended Coronation described . . . . . . . 20 1 

CVI. Funeral Elegies wriKen upon (he Great ridiculed — A Specimen of One . 20() 

CVII. The English too fond of believing every report without examination — A Story 

of an Incendiary to this pur2)ose ....... 207 

CVIII. The Utility and Entertainment that might result from a Journey into the 

East 208 

CIX. The Chinese Philosopher attempts to find out Famous Men . . .211 

ex. Some Projects for introducing Asiatic Employments into the Courts of 

England . ......... 212 

CXI. On the different Seels in England ; particularly Methodists . . . 21.') 

CXII. An Election described 210 

CXIII. A Literary Contest of great Importance, in which both sides fight by 

Epigram . . . . . . . , . . .213 



CONTENTS. *» ix 

LaiTFR Page 

C.XIV. Against tlie Maniage Act — A Fable 220 

CXV. On the Danger of having too liigh an opinion of Human Nature . . . 222 

C'XVI. M'hetlicr Love be a natural or fictitious Passion . . • • . 221 

CWII. A City Night-Piece 220" 

("Will. On the Meanness of the Dutch at the Court of Japan .... 227 

CXIX. On the Distresses of the Poor; exemplified in the Life of a Common Soldier 229 

CXX. On the Absurdity of some late English Titles ..... 232 

C'XXI. The Irresolution of flie English accountoil for ..... 23i 

CXXII. The Manner of Travellers in their usual Uelalions ridiculed . . . 235 

CXXIII. Conclusion ........... 238 



ILLUSTRATIONS. 



Paos. 

Fair on the Thames 1 

Mandarins ' • . • . 5 

Cheapside in HTjO 6 

Fashionable Costumes of the period S 

Small Feet of a Chinese Lady 11 

A IMinuet 20 

Westminster Abbey 2G 

Chopsticks and Rice-bowl . . 30 

Chinese Jars and Household Ornaments 31 

Chinese "Widow fanning her HusbaniVs grave. 37 

Stage Costume of the period 44 

Chinese Camel- driver 47 

Chinese Lanterns 50 

Islington, about 17(50 fil 

Chinese Fop and Servant 82 

St. Paul's Cathedral 87 

Chinese Juggler and Clown 95 

ZVIandarin and Bonze 132 

Cobbler's Stall, 1760 134 

Yauxhall Gardens 14G 

Mandarin with Opium Pipe 160 

Ladies' Trains 165 

Horse Race, 1760 175 

Old Courts of Law at Westminster I9i 

London at Night, 1760 220 

Chinese Trading Junk 233 

Old White Conduit House 235 

Chinese Tea-cups on Stands 239 



NOTICE. 



There arc several well-known works descriptive of national manners and customs, which 
purport to lie written l)y a native of some country where the habits of life and modes of 
thought are entirely dissimilar. The ' Turkisli Spy' was the earliest work of tin's class: 
it was written in Paris by an Italian named Giovanni Paolo Marana, and published in six 
volumes 12mo., the date of the first being IG84. In 1721 Montesquieu published his 
' Lettres Persannes,' and was indebted to their success for his early fame as an autlior. He 
himself states, in the preface to a later edition, tliat the work succeeded so well that " the book- 
sellers used to go about tlie sti-eets catching every one by the hand, and begging ' Prythee 
write for me some Persian Letters." '' Before another thirty years had elapsed, Madame de 
G'raffigny's ' Lettres d"une Peruvienns ' had appeared ; and soon afterwards the Marquis 
d'Argens published his ' Lettres Chinoises,' in six volumes, 12mo. With tlie exception of the 
' Peruvian Letters." which were not translated before 1770, each of the above works had been 
published in a translated form in London before Goldsmith"s career as an author had com- 
menced. No original work of the same character had appeared in England: but it was at 
one period Swift "s intention to have adojjted this plan of depicting English life and manners, 
and there can be no doubt that it would have proved highly successful in his hands. He 
had, however,' communicated the idea to Steele, and the subject was anticipated in the 
'Spectator." (No. 50, April 27th, 1711.) Goldsmith had fherelbre every inducement to adopt a 
plan which had been successful in more instances than one ; but he was for some time undeter- 
mined as to the guise under which his observations should assume to have been written. 
Mr. Prior says (' Life of Goldsmith," i. p. 360) that " his first design was to make his hero a 
native of Morocco or Fez; but reflecting on the rude nature of the people of Barbary, this 
idea was relinquished. A Chinese was then chosen as oflering more noveUy of character 
than a Turk or Persian ; and being equally advanced in the scale of civilisation, could pass 
an opinion on all he saw better than the native of a more barbarous country."' There was, 
besides, the opportunity of introducing accounts and observations respecting a singular people 
of whom comparatively little was known. He assumed, therefore, the character of a Chinese 
Philosopher, who. in tlie course of his travels, visits England, and fixes his residence for a 
time in London for tlie purpose of studying the character of tlie English people. The result 
of liis observations is given in the correspondence supposed to be maintained with his friends 
in China. Tlie first of these Chinese letters appeared in the ' Public Ledger ' of Tlunsday, 
Jaimary 21th, 17C0. This was a daily newspaper, commenced by Newbery tlie bookseller and 
some of his friends, and which was published for the first time on the 12lh of January in tlie 



xil . NOTICE. 

same year. Goldsmith was engaged as a contributor, and l)y the end of tlio year, ninety- 
eiglit of the ' Letters ' liad a])])eared. They attracted considerable attention, were of use in 
establishing the character of the join-nal, and gave the writer increased conliilence in his 
literary pursuits. In May, 17ti2, they were ])ublished in a collected form in two volumes, 
I2mo; and several letters were introduced which had appeared in the ' Ree ' and other pub- 
lications in which Goldsmith had been concerned. A translation of the work into French 
by M. Poivre was published in 176.3. Goldsmith was, however, still unknown to the public, 
and his reputation was confined to the small circle of his personal acquaintance. Newspaper 
readers had become familiar with the ' Chinese Letters ' in the columns of the ' Public 
Ledger,' but the volumes in which they appeared in a collected form were entitled ' Letters 
from a Citizen of tlie World.' The change was probably made for the purjjose of avoiding 
the title which had been given to the translation of D'Argens' 'Lettres Chinoises.' A second 
edition of Goldsmith's work was not called for until I7CG, after the publication of 'The 
Traveller;' and but for the impression whicli this pcem created, would probably have been 
still longer delayed : a third edition did not make its appearance until six years after the 
author's death. In later times the ' Citizen of the World ' has become more extensively 
appreciated. It abounds, indeed, in all tlie requisites of a delightful book — quiet and refined 
humour, lively and amusing descriptions of life and manners, and the sentiments of an in- 
genuous mind expressed with honesty and feeling. Goldsmith was quickly aroused by 
injustice, oppression, and inhumanity, and he stigmatised these vices of mankind under what- 
ever form they presented themselves to his view. 

It is perhaps necessary to remark that since Goldsmith's time great additions have been 
made to our knowledge of China. The works of Staunton, Barrow, Davis and others, afford 
a much more intimate view of social life amongst the Chinese than Du Halde, whom Gold- 
smith appears chiefl}- to have consulted. In the present edition of the ' Citizen of the World ' 
later authorities have been referred to; and in instances where more accurate or fuller in- 
formation could be obtained it has been given in the form of Notes. Mr. Davis's ' China 
and the Chinese' has been the authority most frequently consulted. 



! \^'lSi 




[Fair ou the Thames — Westminster in tlie baek;.Tomid.] 



PREFACE. 



The schoolmen had formerly a verj' exact 
way of computing the abilities of their saints 
or autliors. Escobar,' for instance, was said 
to have learning as five, genius as four, and 
gravity as seven. Caramuel^ was greater 
tlian he. His learning was as eight, his ge- 
nius as six, and his gravity as thirteen. Were 
I to estimate the merits of our Chinese Philo- 
sopher by the same scale, I would not hesi- 
tate to state his genius still higher; but as to 
his learning and gravity, these, I think, might 



' Esoobar, .a famous Sjianish Jesuit .ind casuist, 
Ixirti 15h9, died 1009. 1 1 is 0])inions are attaeked 
with LTeat severiiy in I'ascal's ' Lettres Provin- 
ciales.' 

* C'aramuel, also a Spanish ecclesiastie, born 
lOfifl, died 10K9, was author of above two lii'.ndred 
treatises ami essays, wliieh di>])lay coii.-,id(uable 
know ledt'e ill arrau(;cd, a powerlul but irremilar 
imii^'inaiion, and much genius accompiiuied by 
little judgment. 

VOL. I. 



safely be marked as nine hundred and ninety- 
nine, within one degree of absolute fri- 
gidity.' 

Vet, upon his first ap]M"arance here, many 
were angry not to find liim as ignorant as a 
Tripoline ambassador, or an envoj' from 
Mujac.'' They were surprised to find a man, 
born so far from London, that school of pru- 
dence and wisdom, endued even with a mo- 
derate capacity. They ex])ressed tlie same 

3 There is a ])aper in the ' Litertuy Miujazino' for 
January 175k, attributed by Mr. Prior to (;.)l(lsinitli, 
in whicli our jiriticiiial poets are arranLletl .■H'ennliui.' 
to their respective merits; the staniUiril of jx-rfifti m 
beint; 20. In this " poeti.al scale," f(U' example, 
the ^.'enius of Shakspere, and his powers of versifi 
cation, arc estimiited at 19; Pope's judfiment at \H; 
.lud Milt.iu's learniiii; at 17. 

■• Goldsmith frcMiui'iitly uses imairiiiary names as 
tliou;.di tbey were W(dl known, as here and in iiaireN, 
Xixolbu. Tin- purpose is, hoHc\er, always so ob- 
vious, that it will not be necessary to notice them. 



PllEFACE. 



surprise at his knowledge, that the Chinese 
do at ours. " How comes it," said they, 
*• tliat tlie Kuro])eans, so reniote from China, 
think witli so nuich justice and precision? 
They have never read our hooks, tliey scarcely 
know even our letters, and yet tliey talk and 
reason just as we do." The trutli is, the 
Chinese and we are pretty much alike. Dif- 
ferent degrees of relineuient, and not of dis- 
tance, mark the distinctions among mankind. 
Savages of the most opposite climates liave 
all but one character of improvidence and 
rapacity ; and tutored nations, however sepa- 
rate, make use of the very same methods to 
procure reiined enjoyment. 

The distinctions of polite nations are few; 
but such as are peculiar to the Chinese ap- 
pear in every page of the following corre- 
spondence. The metaphors and allusions are 
all drawn from the East. Their formality 
our author carefully preserves. Many of 
their favourite tenets in morals are illustrated. 
Tlie Chinese are always concise; so is he. 
Simple ; so is he. The Chinese are grave 
and sententious ; so is he. But in onf> par- 
ticular the resemblance is peculiarly striking : 
the Chinese are often dull; and so is he. Nor 
has my assistance been wanting. We are 
told in an old romance of a certain knight- 
errant and his horse who contracted an inti- 
mate friendship. The horse most usually 
bore the knight ; but, in case^ of extraordi- 
nary dispatch, the knight returned tlie fa- 
vour, and carried his horse. Thus in the in- 
timacy between my author and me, he has 
usually given me a lift of his eastern subli- 
mity, and I have sometimes given him a re- 
turn of my colloquial ease. 

Yet it appears strange, in this season of 
panegyric, when scarcely an author passes 
unpraised either by his friends or liimself, 
that such merit as our Philosopher's should 
be forgotten. While the epithets of ingenious, 
copious, elaborate, and refined, are lavished 



among the mob, like medals at a coronation, 
the lucky prizes fall on every side, but not 
one on him. I could on this occasion make 
myself melancholy, by considering the ca- 
priciousness of public taste, or the mutability 
of fortune; but during this fit of morality, 
lest my reader should sleep, TU take a nap 
myself, and when I awake tell him my 
dream. 

I imagined the Thames was frozen over, 
and I stood by its side.* Several booths were 
erected upon the ice, and I was told by one 
of the spectators that Fashion Fair was going 
to begin. He added, that every author who 
would carry his works there, might probably 
find a very good reception. I was resolved, 
however, to observe the humours of the place 
in safety from the shore; sensible that ice 
was at best precarious, and having been 
always a little cowardly in my sleep. 

Several of my acquaintance seemed much 
more hardy than I, and went over the ice 
with inti-epidity. Some carried their works 
to the fair on sledges, some on carts, and 
tliose which were more voluminous were con- 
veyed in waggons. Their temerity asto- 
nished me. I knew their cargoes were heavy, 
and expected every moment they would have 
gone to the bottom. They all entered the 
fair, however, in safety, and each soon after 
returned to my great surprise, highly satis- 
tied with liis entertainment, and tlie bargains 
he had brought away. 

The success of such numbers at last began 
to operate upon me. If these, cried I, meet 
with favour and safety, some luck may. per- 
haps, for once attend the unfortunate. I am 
resolved to make a new adventure. The fur- 



' Tliis introduction appoarert in the " Public 
Ledger' of 'rUuisday. Jan. ajtli, 17130. Tlie season 
was remaikable lor "its severity, and Horaee Wal- 
pole, wvitins; from Strawljerry-hill, on the 20th, 
says he had eome " in the bleakest of all winters" 
to look after his orange trees and gold tiah. 



PREFACE. 



iiitiire, fii]ipery. and firo-woiksof Cliiiialiavo 
long been l;ishioiial)ly Ijouglit up. I'll try 
the fair with a small cargo of Chinese mora- 
lity. If the Chinese have contributed to 
vitiate our tiiste, 111 try how far tliey c;ui 
help to improve our understanding. But as 
otliers have <Lriven into Uie market in wag- 
gons. I'll cautiously begin by venturing with 
a whedbarrow. Thus resolved, I baled up 
my goods and fairly ventured ; when, upon 
just entering the fair, I fancied the ice that 
had supported a Inmdred waggons before, 
cracked uniler me, and wheelbarrow and all 
went to the Ijottoni. 

Upon awaking from my reverie with the 
fright, I cannot help wishing that the pains 
taken in giving this correspondence an Eng- 
lish dress had been employed in contriving 
new ])olitical systems, or new plots for farces. 
I might then have taken my station in the 
world, either as a poet or a philosopher, and 
made one in those little societies where men 



club to raise each otliers reputation. Hut at 
present I belong to no particular class. I re- 
semble one of those animals that has been 
forced from its forest to gratify human curi- 
osity. My earliest wish was to escape un- 
heeded through life ; but I have been set uj) 
for lialfpence, tdfretand scamper at the end of 
my chain. Though none are injured by my 
rage, I am naturally too savage to court any 
friends I)y fawning, too obstinate to be taught 
new tricks, and too improvident to mind 
what may happen. I am appeased, though 
not contented. Too indolent for intrigue, and 
too timid to push for favour, I am — But 
what signifies what I am. 

OtiSU ifioi ^' i/ju,7i/' 'Xai^iTi Tov; /^.tr if/.!. 

Fortune and Hope, adieu !— I sec my port : 

Too long your dupes ; be others now yo\ir sport. 



LETTERS 



OF A 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 




[Mandarius. From Chiiiese Paintings.] 



INTRODUCTION- 



LETTER I. 



CHARACTER OF THE CHINESE PHIIX)SOPHER. 



To Mr. * * * *^ Mer<ihant in iMtidon. 



Sir, AmstercUun. 

Yours of the 13th iiistoiit, covering two hills, 
one on Messrs. R. and D. value 47H/. lO.s-. 
aiid tlie otlier on Mr. ****, value 285/. duly 
caine to hand ; tlie former of which met with 
honwu, hut tlie other li.xs he<'n trilled with, 
and I am afraid will lie returned protected. 

Tlie liearer of this is my friend, therefore 
let him be yours. He is a native of Honan 
in China, and one who did me signal services, 



when he was a maniiarin, and I a factor at 
Canton. By frequently conversing with the 
English there, he h;is learned tlie language, 
tliougli he Ls entirely a stranger to tlu>ir nian- 
ners :uid customs. I am told he is a pliilo- 
sojiher; I am sure he is an honest man : 
that to you will he his hvsi recjimmendation, 
next to the coii.si deration of his heing the 
friend of, Sir, Yours, &c. 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 




[Cheapside, 1750.] 



LETTER II. 



ARRIVAL OF THE CHINESE IN 



LONDON — HIS MOTIVES FOR THE JOURNEY — DESCRIPTION OF 
THE STREETS AND HOUSES. 



From Lien Chi Altangi to * * * *, Merchant in Amsterdam . 



Friend of my Heart, Lomlon. 

INI AY the wings of peace rest upon thy dwel- 
ling, and the shield of conscience preserve 
thee from vice and misery ! For all tliy fa- 
vours accept my gratitude and esteem, the 
only txihutes a poor philosophic wanderer 
can return. Sure, Fortune is resolved tfl make 
me unhappy, when she gives others a power 
of testifying their friendship by actions, and 
leaves me only words to express the sincerity 
of mine. 

I am perfectly sensible of the delicacy with 
which you endeavour to lessen your own 
merit and my obligations. By calling your 
late instances of friendship ordy a return for 
former favours, you would induce me to im- 
pute to your justice what I owe to your gene- 
rosity. 

Tlie services I did you at Canton, justice, 
humanity, and my office bade me perform; 



those you have done me since my arrival at 
Amsterdam, no laws obliged you to, no jus- 
tice required ; even half your favours would 
have been greater than my most sanguine ex- 
pectations. 

The sum of money, therefore, which j'ou 
privately conveyed into my baggage, when I 
was leaving Holland, and which I was igno- 
rant of till my arrival in London, I must beg 
leave to return. You have been bred a mer- 
chant, and I a scholar ; you consequently love 
money better than I. You can find pleasure 
in superfluity ; I am perfectly content with 
what is suflicient: take therefore what is 
yours, it may give you some pleasure, even 
though you have no occasion to use it; my 
happiness it cannot improve, for I have 
already all that I want. 

IMy passage by sea from Rotterdam to 
England was more painful to me than all the 



Tin: ciiixESE IX London. 



journeys I ever made on land. I have 1i:i- 
vei-se<l tlic imnu'usiiralilc wilds ol' MoL,Md 
Tartary ; tVlt all tlie rigours of .Sil)criaii 
skies: I have had my repose a hundred times 
distiirWd l)y invading savages, and have seen, 
without shrinking, tlie desert and sanils rise 
like a troubled ocean all around me: against 
tliese calamities I wasarmed witli resolution; 
but in my j)assage to Kngland, though no- 
tliing occurred that gave the mariners any 
uneasiness, to one who was never at sea be- 
fore all was a subject of astonislmient and 
terror. To find the land disa])j)ear, to see 
our shi]) moinit the waves swift as an arrow 
from the Tartar l)ow, to hear tlie wind howl- 
ing through flie cordage, to feel <i sickness 
which ilepresses even the spirits of the brave; 
tliese were unexpected distresses, and conse- 
quently assaulted me unprepared to receive 
them ! 

You men nf Europe think nothing of a 
voyage by sea. W'itli us of China, a man 
who has been from sight of land is regarded 
upon his return with admiration. 1 have 
known some provinces wliere tliere is not even 
a name for the ocean, ^^'hat a strange peo])le 
therefore am I got amongst, who have founded 
an empire on this luistable clement, who 
build cities upon billows that rise higher than 
the mountains of Ti])ertala, and make the 
deep more forniidalde than the wildest tem- 
pest! ' 

' Mr. Davis (' Cliincse,' vol. ii., p. 236) is of 
opinion tliat in recent times tlip Chinese have re- 
tro^'radoil in tlie ait of navifiation, and that atone 
period tlu'ir junks sailed as far as India. Accord- 
ini; ti) Mill)iirn ('Oriental (■ommcrce ') their voy- 
a};cs now extenil nn fartlier ilian Ihecoasts of .Siara, 
Cochin-China, Timqiiin, .lajian, the numerous 
islands to the eastward and to li.itavia. Mr. Davis 
s.iys: — '• It sometimes happens tli.it a junk sailini; 
as far as ltat.avia will enqai^e a I'ortuijuese ])ilot of 
Macao, who is just al)le with an old rusty sextant to 
take an altitude of the siui and work out tlie lati- 
tude in a roiiuh way. Tliis however is ni'ver done 
in short voya<.'es, where they steer by their compass 
without any iliart, iind jiidKe of thi'iiistances liy the 
last harlioiir or promontory in si;,'lit : and lon^' ex- 
perience makes them very e\jieit in tliis." The 
Chinese are nevertheles,s wretched mariners, and 
Mr. (Jiitzlaff, the missionary, says that they wor- 
ship the compass and liiirn incense l)efore it; but 
that it is of little u>e to them in the ilirection of 
their voya;;e. On Mr. (iiilzl.ilV exiilaiuini; to tin- 
captain and others of tlie .jiiiik in which he sailed 
the method of liniling the latitude and longitude, 



•Such accoiuits as these. I must confess, 
were my first motives for seeing Kngland. 
'J'hese induced me to undertake a journey of 
seven bunded ))ainful days, in order to ex- 
amine its opulence, buildings, sciences, arts, 
and manufactures, on the s])ot. Judge, then, 
my disajipointnient on entering I..<)iidon, to 
see no signs of that ojiulence so much talked 
ol' abroad: wherever I turn, I am presented 
witii a gloomy solemnity in tlie houses, the 
streets, and the inhabitants ; none of that 
beautiful gilding wliicli makes a princijial 
ornament in Chinese architecture.^ The 
streets of Nankin arc sometimes strewed witli 
gold leaf: very dilVerent are those of Lon- 
don : in tlie midst of their ])avements a great 
lazy pudille moves muddily along; heavy- 
laden machines, with wheels of unwieldy 
thickness, crowd upon every passage ; so that 
a stranger, instead of finding time for ob- 
servation, is often happy if he has time to 
escape from being crushed to ])ieces. 

The houses liorrow very i'cw ornaments 
from architecture ; their chief decoration 
seems to be a jialtry piece of ])ainting hung 
out at their doors or windows, at once a 
proof of their indigence and vanity: their 
vanity, in each having one of those pictures 
exposed to public view ; and their indigence, 
in being tuiable to get them better ]iainted. 
In this respect, the fancy of their painters is 
also deplorable. Could you believe it? I 
have seen five black lions and three blue 
boars in less than tlie circuit of half a mile; 
and yet you know that animals of these co- 
lours are no where to be found except in tlie 
wild imaginations of Europe.^ 

they remarked that such observations " were en- 
tirely useless, ami truly barbarian." 

^ In the streets olCliinese cities the best houses 
have a gateway before them, on which much paint- 
in;; and L'ildini; .are bestowed. 

^ These w ere the si^'ns of various trades, at one 
period so strikini; a feature in the streets of Lon- 
don. Each shop had its siirn projectiiii; into the 
street, as may be seen in sonii' of IIoLMrlb's works ; 
but at a later period they were not allowed to be 
hun^' in .so dangerous a manner ovei tlu' heads of 
passeii^'ers, .and were then placed a;;ainsttlie lious»>s. 
The ' (ientleman's Magazine' for 1770 slates that 
there were si^Tis and sign irons on I,udgat<' bill 
which cost several bunilred pounds. The old signs 
lia\c limg been suiicisedeil liy tile presi-nt fashion of 
having the name of the tradesman and his busiiies,s 
painted ou the house. The barber's pole, which 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



Fnnn these circumstances in tlieir Imilil- 
iiii.'-i. and from (lie dismal looks of llic inlia- 
liit.uits. I am iiiilucfd to conclude that the 
nation is actually jioor: and that, like the 
IVrsiaiis, thoy make a splendid lif,'Mi(' every 
where but at home. The proverhof .Xixofou 
is, that a man's riches may he seen in his 
eyes ; if we judge of the Knglish by this rule, 
there is Tiot a poorer nation under the sun. 

1 hive been here but two days, so will not 



be hasty in my decisions ; such letters as I 
shall write to Fipsihi in Moscow, I beg you'll 
endeavour to forward with all diligence; I 
sliall send them o\h'\\. in order that you may 
tiike co]>ies or translations, as you are equally 
versed in the Dutcli and Ciiinese languages. 
Dear friend, tliink of my absence with re- 
gret, as I sincerely regret yours; even while I 
write, I lament our separation. Farewell. 




[Fasliionable Costumes of t)ie period.] 



LETTER III. 

DESCRIPTION OF LONDON — LUXURY OF THE ENGLISH — ITS BENEFITS — THE FINE 
GENTLEMAN THE FINE LADV. 

From Lien Chi Allaiiiji, to the care of Fipsihi, resident in. Moscow, to be forwarded by the Rus- 
sian caravan to Finn Hoam,Jirst president of the Ceremonial Academy at Pekin in China. 



Think not, O thou guide of my youth, that 
al)sence can impair my respect, or interposing 
trackless deserts blot your revered figure from 
my memory. The farther I travel I feel the 

that fiateruity were directed liy ancient statute to 
exhi!)it, lias nearly vanislied, at least from the me- 
tropolis. There still lintjer, however, a tew relics 
of the old fashion: the Ili^jhlander and tlie rush- 
crowned American Indian indicate the trade of the 
tobacconists; the Bible and Crown, and the heads 
of Cicero, Buchanan, and other learned men, are 
assumed by Ijooksellers and printers; Adam and Eve 



pain of separation with stronger force ; those 
ties that bind me to my native country and 
to you are still unbroken. By every remove 
I only drag a greater length of chain. 

Could 1 find aught worth transmitting 
from so remote a region as this to which I 



patronise frinf,'e-makers ; and pul)lic-houses distin- 
guish themsehes liy red lions and Ijlue boars, either 
l)ainted or sculptured. Still these instances are but 
exceptions, and the fashion of signs has nearly pEussed 
awav. 



DESCRIPTION OF LONDON. 



9 



liave wandered, I should gladly send it: hut, 
intead oi" tliis. yon ninst 1)0 contented with a 

/jfenewal of my former jirofessions, and an im- 
perfect account of a jieople with whom I am 
as yet but sui)erficially acquainted. The 
remaiks of a man who has l)een but three 
days in the country can only be those obvi- 
ous circumstances which force tlieniselves 
uj)on tlie imagination. I consider myself 
here as a newlv-created being introduced into 
a new world ; every object strikes with won- 
der and surjirise. The imagination, still un- 
sated, seems the only active principle of the 
mind. The most trilling occurrences give 
pleasure till the gloss of novelty is worn away. 
When I have ceased to wonder, I may jiossi- 
bly grow wise; I may then call the reasoning 
principle to my aid, and compare those ob- 
jects with each other, which were before ex- 
amined without reflection. 

Behold me then in London, gazing at the 
strangers, and they at nie : it seems they find 
somewhat al'surd in my figure ; and, had I 
been never from home, it is ])0ssible I might 
find an infinite fmid of ridicule intlieirs; but 
by long travelling I am tanglit to laugh at 
folly alone, and to find nothing truly ridicu- 
lous but villany and vice. 

When I had just cpiitted my native coun- 
try, and crossed the Chinese wall, I fancied 
every deviation from the customs and man- 
ners of China was a dej)arting from nature: 
I smiled at the blue lips and red foreheads of 
the Tonguese ; and could hardly contain 
when I saw the Daures dress their heads with 
horns. TheOstiacs powdered with red earth, 
and the Calmuck beauties tricked out in all 
the finery of shee])-skin, a])peared highly ridi- 
culous: l)ut I soon j)erceived that the ridicide 
lay not in them, l)\it in me; that I falsely 
conjlemned others for absurdity because they 
happened to ditlerfnmi a standard originally 
foundeil in prejudice or ])artiality. 

I find no jileiisure, therefore, in taxing tlie 
English with dej)arting from Nature in their 
external a])pearance, which is all I yet know 
of their character: it is jiossible they only 
endeavour to improve her sim])le ])lan, since 
everv extravagance in ilress proceeds from a 
desire of becoming more lieautiful than Na- 
ture made us; anil tliis is so liarndess a va- 
nity, that I not only pardon but ap])rove it. 



A desire to be more excellent than others is 
wliat actually makes us so; and, as thou- 
sands find a livelihood in society by such ap- 
petites, none but the ignorant inveigh against 
them. 

You are not insensible, most revered Fum 
Hoam, what numberless trades, even among 
the Chinese, subsist by the harmless pride of 
each otlier. Your nose-borers, feet-swathers, 
tooth-stainers, eyelirow-pluckers, would all 
want bread, shoidd their neighbours want 
vanity. These vanities, however, employ 
much fewer hands in China than in Eng- 
land; and a fine gentleman, or a fine lady, 
here dressed up to the fashion, seems scarcely 
to have a single limb that does not suli'er 
some distortions from art. 

To make a fine gentleman several trades 
are required, but chiefly a bamer. You have 
undoubtedly heard of the Jewish champion, 
whose strength lay in his hair; one would 
think that the English were for placing all 
wisdom there: to appear wise, nothing more 
is requisite here than for a man to l)orrow 
hair from the heads of all his neighbours, and 
clap it like a bush on his own: the distri- 
butors of law and ])hysic stick on such quan- 
tities, that it is almost impossible, even in 
idea, to distinguish between the head and the 



' The introduction of a tail to the v'v^ took place 
after the baUle of Ramilies (1706). Lord Boling- 
broke is said to have introduced the fashion of tying 
the hair. The piiitail followed the short Ramilies 
tail, some time before 1745, at which period some 
young men wore their own hair dressed and pro- 
fusely powdered. The following pleasant anecdote 
relating to wigs is from the ' liook of Table Talk,' 
vol. ii. p. 134 : — " lu the year 17G4, owing to changes 
in tlie fashion, people gave over the use of that 
very artiticial appendage the wig, and wore their 
own hair when they had any. In conseiiuence of 
this, the wig-makers, who had become very nume- 
rous in Loudon, were suddenly thrown out of work, 
and reduced to great distress. For some time botli 
town and country ran;,' witli their calamities, and 
their complaints that men should wi'iir their own 
hair instead of perukes: and at last it strur-k them 
that some lei,'islative enactment ought to be pro- 
curcil in order to oblige gentlefolks to wear wigs, for 
the benefit of the sutVering wig tradi-. Accordingly, 
they ilrew up a petition for relief, which, on the 
lull of February, 17(i.'), they carried to St. James's, 
to present to his maje-ty (iconic III .\s they went 
proi'essionally through the town, it was o\)sorved 
that most of these wig-makers who wanted to force 



10 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



Tliosc whom I have now been descriliiiig { 
iilTect the gravity of the lion; those I am 
going to describe, more resemble the pert viva- 
city of smaller animals. The barber, who is 
still master ol'flie ceremonies, cuts their hair 
close to the crown : and tlien, with a com- 
jiositioii of meal and hogs-lard, plasters the 
whole in snch a manner as to make it iinpos- 
sil)le to distinguisli whether the patient wears 
a cap or a plaster; but, to make the picture 
more perfectly striking, conceive the tail of 
some beast — a greyhound's tail or a ])ig"s tail, 
for instance — appended to the back of the 
bead, and reaching down to that place where 
tails in other animals are generally seen to 
begin ; thus betailed and bepowdered, the 
man of taste fancies he improves in l)eauty, 
dresses up his hard-featured face in smiles, 
and attem])ts to look liideously tender. Thus 
equipped, he is qualified to make love, and 
nopes for success, more from the powder on the 
outside of his head, than the sentiments within. 

Yet, when I consider what sort of a crea- 
ture the fine lady is to whom he is supposed 
t^) pay his addresses, it is not strange to find 
him thus equipped in order to please. She 
is herself every whit as fond of powder and 
tails, and hog"s-lard, as he. To speak my 
secret thoughts, most revered Fum, the la- 
dies here are horribly ugly ; I can hardly 
endure the sight of them; they no way re- 
semble the beauties of China: the Europeans 
have a quite difierent idea of beauty from us. 
When I reflect on the small-footed perfec- 
tions of an Eastern beauty, how is it possible 
I should have eyes for a woman whose feet 
are ten inches long? I shall never forget the 
beauties of my native citj' of Naidew. How 
very broad their faces ! how very short their 
noses! how very little tlieir eyes! how very 
thin their lips! how very black their teeth! 

other peojjle to wear them, wore no wigs them- 
selves ; and this striking tlie London mob as some- 
thing monstrously unfair and inconsistent, they 
seized the petitioners, and cut off all tlieir hair 
par force " Perliaps the mob did not proceed quite 
so far ; l)ut Horace Walpole, in his letters to the 
Earl of Hertford, alludes to the wig-makers' peti- 
tion, and says, " Should one wonder if carpenters 
were to remonstrate, tliat since the peace their trade 
decays, and that there is no demand for wooden 
legs?" Wigs, liowever, were generally worn manv 
years after Goldsmith's time. 



the snow on the toj)s of Ban is not fairer than 
their cheeks; and tlieir eyebrows as small a.s 
the line by the pencil of Quamsi. Here a 
lady with such jierfections would be fright- 
ful; Dutch and Chinese beauties indeed have 
some resemblance, but English women are 
entirely dilVerent ; red clieeks, big eyes, and 
teeth of a most odious vvliiteness, are not only 
seen here, l)ut wished for; and then they have 
such masculine feet, as actually serve stnne 
for walking! ' 

Vet uncivil as Nature has been, they seem 
resolved to outdo her in unkindness; they use 
white powder, i)lue powder, and black pow- 
der for their hair, and a red powder for their 
face, on some particidar occasions. 

They like to have tlie face of various co- 
lours, as among the Tartars of Koreki, fre- 
quently sticking on, witli spittle, little black 
patches on every part of it except on tlie tip 
of the nose, which I have never seen with a 
patch. Vou"ll liave a better idea of their 
manner of placing these spots when I have 
finished a map of an English face patched 
up to the fashion, which shall shortly be se'it 
to increase your curious collection of paint- 
ings, medals, and monsters.^ 



' The figures on specimens of Cliinese manufac- 
ture, and on Hritish imitations of Chinese ware, 
have contributed to distort the popular notions of 
the appearance of the Chinese. Mr. Davis says 
that many of the Cliinese are good-looking even 
according to English ideas; and the complexion of 
those not m\ich exposed to the weather does not 
mucli differ from that of the Spaniards, or other na- 
tives of the south of Europe. The Tartar angu- 
larity of countenance is not so marked in the south- 
ern provinces as in the northern parts of the empire ; 
but in most Chinese the cheek-l)ones liecome very 
prominent soon after the age of twenty. On the other 
hand. Europeans in Cliiuii are frequently termed, 
by mothers and niu'ses. /(in/(Kf i — that is, foreign 
ghost, spirit, or devil — because their features ditfer 
from tlie Cliinese notions of beauty. Tlie singular 
practice of cramping the feet originated in the niuth 
century; and sm.all feet are valued as indications 
of gentility A Chinese humourist told one of the 
.Tesuit missionaries, that what had been taken off 
the feet of the ladies had been added to their tongues. 

'^ Tlie practici' of wearing black patclies on vari- 
ous parts of the face was ridiculed in 1711-12 in 
the ' Spectator;' l)ut it was still in vogue past the 
middle of the century. In a jeu-d'efprit, in the 
' Gray's Inn Journal,' 1752, there is advertised for 
s.ale " the stock of a coquette, leaving otT trade," 
and amongst other things for disposal is " the secret 
of putting on patches in an artful manner : show ing 



\ 



THE FINE LADY. 



U 



Hut what surprises more tlian all the rest 
is what 1 have just now heeii creilildy iii- 
foniu'd hy one ot" tliis country : — '" Most la- 
dies here," says he, "have two faces; one 
face to sleep in, and another to show in com- 
pany : the first is generally reserved for the 
hushand and family at home; the other put 
on to please strangers abroad: the family 
face is often indilVercnt enough, but the out- 
door one looks something better; tliis is al- 



ways made at the toilet, where the looking- 
glass and toad-eater sit in council, and settle 
the complexion of the day."' 

I cannot ascertain the truth of this remark : 
however, it is actually certain tliat they wear 
more clothes witliin doors than without; and 
I have seen a lady, who seemed to shudder at 
a t>reeze in her own apartment, appear half 
naked in the streets. Farewell. 







[Small Feet of a Chinese Laily.] 



LETTER IV. 

ENGLISH PEIDE — LIBEETV AN INST.'VNCE OF BOTH NEWSPAPERS — POLITENESS. 

To the Same. 



The English seem as silent as the Japanese, 
yet vainer than the inhabitants of Siam. 
Upon my arrival I attriliuted that reserve to 
modesty, which I now find has its origin in 
pride. Condescend to address them first, and 
you are sure of their accjuaintance ; stoop to 
flattery, and you conciliate their friendship 



the fITi'ct of their (liffiTent arrangement, with in- 
structions how to jilace them about the eye in such 
a manner as to trive disdain, an amorous, lauj^uid, 
or a cunnint; izlancc." Tlic use of cosmetics is com- 
mon amonir tlie Chinese ladies: what they most 
employ is a kind of white powder, with whicli they 
rub their faces. 



and esteem. They bear hunger, cold, fatigue, 
and all the miseries of life, without shrink- 
ing; danger only calls forth their fortitude; 
they even exult in calamity ; but contempt 
is what they cannot bear. An P'nglishman 
fears contempt more than death ; he often 
flies to death as a refuge from its ])ressure; 
and dies when he fancies tlie world has 
ceased to esteem him. 

Pride seems the source not only of their 
national vices, but of their national virtues 
also. An Englishman is tauglit to love his 
king as his friend ; but to acknowledge no 
other master tlian the laws which himself has 



12 



CITIZEN OF THE -WORLD. 



contributed to enact. He despises those na- 
tions who. that one may be free, are all con- 
tent to be slaves; who tirst lift a tyrant into 
terror, and then shrink under his power as if 
delejjated from heaven. Liberty is echoed in 
idl tiieir assemlilies; and thousands might be 
found ready to oiler up their lives for the 
sound, though ])erhaps not one of all the 
number understands its meaning. Tiie lowest 
mechanic, however, looks upon it as his duty 
to be a watcliful guardian of his country's 
freedom; and often uses a language that 
might seem haughty even in the mouth of the 
great emperor, who traces his ancestry to the 
moon. 

A few days ago, passing by one of their 
prisons, I could not avoid stopping, in order 
to listen to a dialogue which I thought might 
afford me some entertainment. The conver- 
sation was carried on between a debtor 
through the grate of his prison, a porter who 
had stopped to rest his burthen, and a soldier 
at the window. The subject was upon a 
tlireatened invasion from France, and each 
seemed extremely anxious to rescue his coun- 
try from the impending danger. " For my 
part," cries the prisoner, " the greatest of my 
appreliensions is for our freedom : if the 
French should conquer, w hat would become 
of English liberty '? My dear friends, liberty 
is tlie Englishman's ])rerogative ; we must 
preserve that at the expense of our lives; of 
that the French shall never deprive us : it is 
not to be expected that men who are slaves 
themselves would preserve our freedom, should 
they happen to conquer." " Ay, slaves," 
cries the porter, " they are all slaves, fit only 
to carry burthens, every one of them. Before 
I would stoop to slavery, may this be my 
poison (and he held a goblet in his hand), 
may this be my poison — but I would sooner 
list for a soldier." 

The soldier, taking the goblet from his 
friend, with much awe fervently cried out, 
" It is not so much our liberties as our reli- 
gion that would sufl'er by such a change ; 
ay. our religion, my lads ! May the devil 
sink me into flames" (such was the solemnity 
of his adjuration), '' if the French should 
come over, but our religion would be utterly 
undone!'' So saying, instead of a libation, 
he applied the goblet to his lips, and con- 



firmed his sentiments with a ceremony of the 

most persevering devotion. 

In short, every man here pretends to be a 
politician ; even the fair sex are sometimes 
found to mix the severity of national alter- 
cation with the blandishments of love, and 
often become conquerors by more weapons of 
destruction than their eyes. 

This universal passion for ])olitics is grati- 
fied by daily gazettes, as wifli us at China.' 
But as in ours the emperor endeavours to in- 
struct his people, in theirs the peojile endea- 
vour to instruct the administration. You 
must not, however, imagine that they who 
compile these papers have any actual know- 
ledge of the politics or the government of a 
state : they only collect their materials from 
the oracle of some coftee-house; which oracle 
has himself gathered them the night before 
from a beau at a gaming-table, who has pil- 
laged his knowledge from a great man's por- 
ter, who has had his information from the 
great man's gentleman, who has invented the 
whole story for his own amusement the night 
preceding. 

The English, in general, seem fonder of 
gaining the esteem than the love of those they 
converse with. This gives a fonnality to 
their amusements ; their gayest conversations 
have something too wise for innocent relaxa- 
tion : though in comjDany you are seldom 
disgusted with the absurdity of a fool, you 
are seldom lifted into rapture bj- those strokes 
of vivacity which give instant though not 
permanent pleasure. 

What they want, however, in gaiety, they 
make up in politeness. You smile at hear- 
ing me praise the English for their polite- 
ness; you have heard very dif^'erent accounts 
from the missionaries at Pekin, who have 
seen such a different behaviour in their mer- 
chants and seamen at home. But I must 
still repeat it, the English seem more polite 
than any of their neighbours; their great art 
in this respect lies in endeavouring, while 



1 Gazettes are frequently piiblished in Pekia. 
They make knowTi various official acts of the go- 
vernment, and, accordini; to Staunton, they contain 
accounts of singular events, instances of longevitVi 
offences committed by mandarins, with the punish- 
ment inflicted upon them, and they even occasion- 
allv record cases of cri/n. con. 



ENGLISH POLITICS. 



13 



tliey oblige, to lessen the force of the favour. 
Other countries are fond of oliliging a 
stranger, but seem desirous that he shouhl 
be sensible of the obligation: the English 
confer their kindness \\..ii an apjiearance of 
indilVerence, and give away benefits with an 
air ;is if they des))i.sed them. 

Walking, a few ilays ago, between an Eng- 
lishman and a Frenchman into the suburl)s 
of the city, we were overtaken by a heavy 
shower of rain. I was unprepared ; but they 
had each large coats, which defended them 
from what seemed to be a ])erfe<'t inundation. 
The Englishman, seeing me shrink from the 
weather, accosted me thus: " Pslia, man! 
what dost shrink at ? Here, take this coat; 



I don't want it ; I find it ;io way viseful to 
me; I had as lief be without it." The 
Frenchman began to show his politeness in 
tiu-n. " My dear friend ! "' cries he, " why 
won't you oblige me by making use of my 
coat ? You see how well it defends me from 
the rain; I should not choose to ])art with it 
to others, liut to sucii a friend as you I could 
even juirt with my skin to do him service." 

From such minute instances as these, most 
revered Fum Hoam, I am sensible your sa- 
gacity will collect instruction. The volume 
of nature is the book of knowledge, and he 
becomes most wise who makes the most judi- 
cious selection. Farewell. 



LETTER V, 



ENGLISH PASSION FOR POLITICS SPECIMEN OF A NEWSPAPER CHAE.\CTERISTICS OF THE 

MANNERS OF DIFFERENT COUNTRIES. 

To the Same. 



I HAVE already informed you of the singu- 
lar ])assion of this nation for politics. An 
Englishman, not satisfied with finding, by 
his own prosperity, the contending powers of 
Euro])e ])ro])erly balanced, desires also to 
know the jirecise value of every weight in 
either scale. To gratify this curiosity, a leaf 
of ])olitical instruction is served u]) every 
morning with tea: when our politician has 
feasted upon this, he repairs to a coffee- 
Louse,' in order to ruminate upon what he 
has read, and increase his collection ; froi i 
thence he jiroceeds to the ordinary, inquires 
what news, and treasures up every acquisi- 
tion there, hunts about all the evening in 
quest of more, and carefully adds it to the 
rest. Thus at night he retires home full of 
the importiint advices of the day: when lo! 
awaking next morning, he finds the instruc- 

1 Tims, in the first number of the ' Tatlcr,' pul)- 
lishol in 17(i'j, ' Isaac HickcrstalV,' in informing 
his readers of thi- anan-irnu-nts wliich lie lias 
mailu for tlii-ir instructinn anil anuiscnu'iit, says — 
"All accounts of gallantry, jileasuri-. and cutcr- 
tuinment, shall be under the head of While's Cho- 
colate House; poetry under that of Will's Coffee 
House; learning under the title of (Jrecian ; lo- 
reitti anil domestic you will have from St. James's 
Coffee House. " 



tions of yesterday a collection of absurdity or 
palpable falsehood. This one woidd think a 
mortifying repulse in the pursuit of wis<lom ; 
yet our politician, no way tliscouraged, hunts 
on, in order to collect fresh materials, and in 
order to be again disa])pointetl. 

I have often admired the commercial spi- 
rit which j)revails over Europe — have been 
surprised to see them carry on a traffic with 
jiroductions that an Asiatic stranger would 
ileem entirely useless. It is a proverl) in 
China, that a European suffers not even his 
sjiittle to be lost ; the maxim, however, Ls iu)t 
sufficiently strong, since they sell even tlieir 
lies to great advantage. Every nation de- 
rives a considerable traile in this commodity 
with their neighbours. 

An English dealer in this way, for in- 
stance, has only to ascend to his work-house, 
and manufacture a turl)ulent sjieech, averreil 
to be s))oken in the senate — or a re))ort su{>- 
])osed to be dro))t at court — a ])iece of scan- 
ilal that strikes at a poj)ular mandarin — or 
<a secret treaty between two iieigliliouring 
powers. When (inislied, these goods are 
l)aled u]) and consigned to a factor abroad, 
who sends in return two battles, three sieges, 
and a shrewd letter tilled with dashes 



11 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



. blanks f 

of great iiu])i)rtiiiice. 



, and stars * * * 



Thus you ])t'rceive that a single gazette is 
the joint manufacture of Europe, and he 
who would peruse it with a pliilosojjhical eye 
might perceive in every paragrajjh sonie- 
tliing characteristic of the nation to which it 
belongs : a map does not exhibit a more 
distinct view of the boundaries and situations 
of every country, than its news does a picture 
of tlie genius and the morals of its inhabit- 
ants. The superstition and erroneous deli- 
cacy of Italy, the formality of Spain, the 
cruelty of Portugal, the fears of Austria, the 
confidence of Prussia, the levity of France, 
tlie avarice of Holland, the pride of England, 
the absurdity of Ireland, and the national 
partiality of Scotland, are all conspicuous in 
every page. 

But, perhaps, you may find more satisfac- 
tion in a real newspaper than in my descrip- 
tion of one ; I therefore send a specimen, 
which niay serve to exhibit the maimer of 
tlieir being written, and distinguish the cha- 
racters of the various nations which are united 
in its composition. 

Naples. — •• We have lately dug up here a 
curious Etruscan monument, broke in two in 
the raising. The characters are scarcely vi- 
sible; but Lugosi, the learned antiquary, 
supposes it to have been erected in honour of 
Picus. a Latin king, as one of the lines may 
be plainly distinguished to begin with a P. 
It is hoped this discovery will produce some- 
thing valuable, as the literati of our twelve 
academies are deeply engaged in the disqui- 
sition." 

Pisa.—" Since Father Fudgi, Prior of St. 
Gilbert's, has gone to reside at Rome, no 
miracles have been performed at the shrine 
of St. Gilbert : the devout begin to grow un- 
easy, and some begin actually to fear that 
St. Gilbert lias forsaken tbem with the reve- 
rend fatlier." 

Lttcca. — " The administrators of our se- 
rene republic have frequent coiderences upon 
tlie part they shall take in the present com- 
motions of Europe. Some are for sending 
a body of tlieir troops, consisting of one com- 
pany of foot and six horsemen, to make a 
diversion in favour of the empress-queen ; 
others are as strenuous assertors of the Prus- 



sian interest : what turn these debates may 
take, time oidy can discover. However, cer- 
tain it is, we shall be able to bring into the 
field, at the oj)ening of the next campaign, 
seventy-five armed men, a commander-in- 
chief, and two drummers of great expe- 
rience." 

Spain. — " Yesterday the new king showed 
himself to his sul)jects, and, after having 
stayed half an hour in his balcony, retired to 
the royal apartment. The night concluded 
on this extraordinarj' occasion with illumin- 
ations, and other demoTistrations of joy. The 
queen is more beautiful than the rising sun, 
and reckoned one of the first wits in Europe : 
she had a glorious opportunity of displaying 
the readiness of her invention, and her skill 
in repartee, lately at court. The Duke 
of Lerma, coming up to her with a low 
bow and a smile, and presenting a nosegay 
set with diamonds, ' Madam,' cries he, ' I 
am your most obedient humble servant.' 
'Oh, Sir!' replies the queen, without any 
prompter, or the least hesitation, ' I'm very 
proud of the very great honour- you do me.' 
Upon which she made a low courtesy, and 
all the courtiers fell a laughing at the readi- 
ness and the smartness of her reply. 

Lisbon. — " Yesterday we had an auto-da-fd, 
at which we burned three young women ac- 
cused of heresy, one of them of exquisite 
beauty, two Jews, and an old woman con- 
victed of being a witch : one of the friars, 
who attended this last, reports, that he saw 
the devil fiy out of her at the stake, in tlie 
shape of a flame of fire. The populace be- 
haved on this occasion with great good 
humour, joy, and sincere devotion. 

" Our merciful sovereign has been for 
some time past recovered of his fright : 
though so atrocious an attempt deserved to 
exterminate half the nation, yet he has been 
graciously pleased to spare the lives of his 
subjects, and not above five hundred have 
been broke upon the wheel, or otherwise exe- 
cuted, upon this horrid occasion." 

I'ieiuia. — " We have received certain ad- 
vices that a party of twenty thousand Aus- 
trians, having attacked a much superior body 
of Prussians, put them all to flight, and took 
the rest prisoners of war." 

Berlin. — " We have received certain ad- 



SEAUCH AFTER REFINEMENT. 



1.-) 



vices that a party of twenty tliousajitl Prus- 
sians, having attackeil a much sii])eri()r hody 
of Anstrians. jiut them to Hiv;iit, aTitl tdok a 
(freat niiinlier of prisoners, with their military 
chest, Ciinnon, ami hat;gaj<e. Thougli we 
have not succeeded this cainjiaign to our 
wishes, yet, when we think of him who com- 
mands us, we rest in security ; while we 
glee]), our king is watchful for our safety." 

Paris. — '• We shall soon strike a signal 
l)low. We liave seventeen Hat-bottomed 
Iwats at Havre. The people are in excellent 
sjjirits, and our ministers make no dilficulty 
in raising the su))))lies. 

" We are all undone; the jjeople are dis- 
contented to the last degree; the ministers 
are ol)liged to have recourse to the most ri- 
gorous methods to raise the expenses of the 
war. 

'• Our distresses are great; but Madam 
Pomjtadour continues to sujiply our king, 
who is now growing old, with a fresh lady 
every night. His health, thank heaven ! is 
still pretty well ; nor is he iu tlie least unlit, 



as was reported, for any kind of royal exer- 
citation. He was so frightened at the atVair 
of Damien, that his physicians were aj)])re- 
hensive lest iiis reason slionld snil'er, but that 
wretch's tortures soon composed the kingly 
terrors of his breast."' 

England. — " Wanted an uslier to an aca- 
demy. N.I3. He must be alile to read, dress 
hair, and must have had the small-pox." 

Ditlilin. — " We hear that there is a benevo- 
lent subscription on foot among the nobility 
and gentry of this kingdom, who are great 
jiatrons of merit, in order to assist Black and 
All Black ' in his contest with the Pailereen 
mare. We hear from Germany that Prince 
Ferdinand has gained a complete victory, and 
taken twelve kettle-drums, five standards, 
and four waggons of ammunition, prisoners 
of war.'' 

Edinhi/qjh. — " We are jiositive when we 
say that .Savuiders M'Ciregor, who was ex- 
ecuted for horse-stealing, is not a Scotch- 
man, hut born in Carrickfergus." Farewell. 



LETTER VI. 



HAI'l'INESS LOST BV SEEKING AFTER REFINEMENT. 

Fum Hoam, first president of the Ceremonial Academy at Pekin, to Lien Chi Altangi, the discon- 
tented wanderer : by the way of Moscow. 



WuKTHEK sporting on the flowery hanks of 
tlie river Irtis, or scaling the steepy moun- 
tains of Douchenour; whether traversing the 
Idack deserts of Kobi, or giving lessons of 
jKjliti-ness to the savage inhabitants of Eu- 
rojH' ; in whatever country, whatever cli- 
mate, and whatever circumstances, all hail! 
May Tien, the universal soul, take you under 
his protection, and inspire you with a supe- 
rior ])ortion of iiimself ! 

How long, my friend, shall an cnfliusiasm 
for knowledge continue to obstruct your hap- 
])int!ss, and tear you from all tlie connexions 
tliat make life jjleasing V How long will you 
cuntinue to rove from climate to climate, 
rJrided by thousanils, and yet without a 
frieml, feeling all the inconveniences of a 
crowd, and all the anxiety of l>eing alone? 

1 know you will nply, that Uie relined plea- 



sure of growing every day wiser, isasuflicient 
recomj)ense for every inconvenience. 1 know 
you will talk of the vulgar satisfaction of 
soliciting hap])iness from sensual enjoyment 
only ; and probably enlarge upon the exqui- 
site rajitures of sentimental bliss. Yet, be- 
lieve mf , friend, you are deceived ; all our 
])leasures, though seemingly never so remote 
from sense, derive their origin from some one 
of the senses. The most exipiisite demon- 
stration in mathematics, or the most pleasing 
(liscpiisition in metaphysics, if it does not id- 
timately tend to increase some sensual satis- 

' A celebrated Irish nicer. " There has been 

m(ir(! nidiicy spent in the en<.'Oiirai,'rnii'nt of the 
I'aderei'U mare there (Irehmd) iu one season tlian 
Kiven iu rewards to learned men hinee thi> days of 
I'sher." Prior's Life. Letter of (iuldsiuilh tu Mr. 
Ilodsou, 1707. 



16 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



faction, is dclii^litt'iil only to fools, or to nipii 
who liave, by long liahit, contracted a false 
idea of pleasure; and he who separates sen- 
sual and sentimental enjoyments, seeking 
happiness from mind alone, is, in fact, as 
wretched as the naked inhabitant of the fo- 
rest, who jjlaces all hapjiiness in the first, 
regardless of the latter. There are two ex- 
tremes in this respect — the savage, who 
swallows down the draught of pleasure, with- 
out staying to reflect on his happiness; and 
the sage, who passeth the cup while he re- 
flects on the conveniences of drinking. 

It is with a heart full of sorrow, my dear 
Altangi, that I must inform you, that what 
the world calls hajipiness must now lie yours 
no longer. Our great emperor's displeasure 
at your leaving China, contrary to the rules 
of our government, and the immemorial cus- 
tom of the empire,' has produced the most 
terrible effects. Your wife, daughter, and 
rest of your family, have been seized by his 
order and appropriated to his use; all, ex- 



cept your son, are now the peculiar property 
of hin) who possesses all : him I have hidden 
from the oflicers employed for this purpose ; 
and even at the hazard of my life I have con- 
cealed him. The youth seems obstinately bent 
on finding you out. wherever j'ou are; he is 
determined to face every danger that opposes 
his pursuit. Though yet but fifteen, all his 
fathers virtues and oljstinacy sparkle in his 
eyes, and mark him as one destined to no 
mediocrity of fortune. 

You see, my dearest friend, what impru- 
dence has brought thee to ; from opulence, a 
tender family, surrounding friends, and your 
master's esteem, it has reduced thee to want, 
persecution, and, still worse, to our mighty 
monarch's disjjleasure. Want of prudence 
is too frequently the want of virtue ; nor is 
there on earth a more powerful advocate for 
vice than poverty. As I shall endeavour to 
guard thee from the one. so guard t'hyself 
from the other ; and still think of me with 
affection and esteem. Farewell. 



LETTER VII. 



THE TIE OF WISDOM ONLY TO MAKE US HAPPV BENEFITS OF TRAVEL I'PON THE MORALS OF A 

PHILOSOPHER. 

From Lien Chi Altattiji to Finn Hoam,Jirst president, 8fc. 

[The Editor thinks proper to aciinaint the reader, that the greatest part of the following letter seems to him 
to be little more than a rhapsody of sentences borrowed from Confucius,^ the Chinese philosopher.] 



A WIFE, a datighter, carried into captivity 
to expiate my offence ; a son scarce yet ar- 
rived at maturity, resolving to encounter 
every danger in the pious pursuit of one who 
has inidone him — these, indeed, are circum- 
stances of distress ; though my tears were 
more precious than the gem of Golconda, yet 
would they fall upon such an occasion. 

But I submit to the stroke of heaven. I 
hold the volume of Confucius in my hand, 

1 The most prominent feature of Chinese policy 
is jealousy of foreisners: and the penal code of 
China discourages clandestine trade by sea as well 
as emigi-ation. The Chinese peojile, however, make 
good colonists, and are found at Singapore, B.ita- 
\ia. and in the variuus islands of the Eastern Seas; 
and a few ha\e occasionally found their way to the 
Cape of Good Hope and St." Helena, and even have 
not feared to proceed to Rio Janeiro. 



and, as I read, grow humble, and patient, 
and wise. We should feel sorrow, says he. 
but not sink under its oppression. The heart 
of a wise man should resemble a mirror, 
which reflects every object without being sul- 
lied by any. The wheel of fortune turns in- 
cessantly round; and who can say, within 
himself. I shall to-day be uppermost? We 
should hold the immutable mean that lies 
between insensibility and anguish; our at- 

2 Confucius ( Koong-foo-tseX the great sage of 
China, was born about 500 B.C. Some paits of 
his system of morals are perfectly in accordance 
with "the principles of Christianity. The sayings or 
conversations of Confucius are recorded in a book, 
called tlie ' Lun-yu : ' his name is held in universal 
regard in China," and temples are erected to his 
worship. 



BENEFITS OF TRAVEL. 



17 



tempts should not l)e to extinguish nature, 
but to repress it — not to stand unmoved at 
distress, but endeavour to turn every disaster 
to our own advantage. Our greatest glory 
is, not in never falling, hut in rising every 
time we fall. 

I fancy myself at ])resent. O tlion revered 
disciple of Tliaou! ' more than a matcli for 
all that can happen. The chief business of 
my life has been to ])rocure wisdom, and the 
chief object of that wisdom was to be happy. I 
My attendance on your lectures, my con- , 
ferences with the missionaries of Europe, and 
all my subswjuent adventures upon quitting 
Cliina", were calculated to incre;ise the sphere 
of my happiness, not my curiosity. Let 
European travellers cross seas and deserts 
merely to measure the height of a mountain, 
to descriije the cataract of a river, or tell the 
commodities which every country may pro- 
duce — merchants or geographers, perhaps, 
may find profit by such discoveries; but 
what advantage can accrue to a philosopher 
from such accounts, who is desirous of un- 
derstanding the inmian heart, who seeks to 
know tlie men of every country, who desires 
to discover those dillerences which result 
from climate, religion, education, prejudice, 
and partiality? 

1 should think my time very ill bestowed, 
were the only fruits of my adventures to 
consist in being able to tell that a tradesman 
of I>ondon lives in a house three times as 
high as that of our great emperor^ — that the 
ladies wear longer clothes than the men — 

• Tiiou, or Laoti-keun, founded a sect about the 
time of Confucius. Duhaldt' says tliat the maxims 
and sentiments of this seet rescmbU- those of tile 
Epicureans: and, in the 'Sacred Instructions' oltlie 
Chinese, individual enjoyment and preservation is 
said to be tlieir chief aim : but tliougli the books of 
Taou are still extant, they are believed to have 
l)een corniiited. Tahou sij;iiifies Reason, and the 
followers of Taou call themselves " doc-tors of rea- 
son." 

" Mr. DavLi says—" The maj^nificence of Chi- 
nese mansions is estimated in some measure by the 
^Tound which they cover, and by the number and 
size of the courts and buildinj^s; ' and Staunton re- 
late-i that the emperor is said to have incjuired if it 
was the smallness of the territory that compi'lU'd 
the inhaliitauts of Europe to build their cities wj 
near the clouds. 



that the priests are dressed in colours which 
we are taught to detest — and that their sol- 
diers wear scarlet, which is with us the sym- 
bol of peace and iiniocence. How many 
travellers are there, who confine their rela- 
tions to such minute and useless ])articulars! 
For one who enters into the genius of those 
nations with whom he has conversed — who 
tliscloses their morals, their o])inions, the ideas 
which they entertain of religious worshi]), the 
intrigues of their ministers, and their skill in 
sciences — there are twenty who only mention 
some idle particulars, which can be of no 
real use to a true philoso])her. All their 
remarks tend neither to make themselves nor 
others more happy ; they no way contribute 
to control their passions, to bear adversity, 
to inspire true virtue, or raise a detestation of 
vice. 

Men may be very learned, and yet very 
miserable ; it is easy to be a deep geometri- 
cian, or a sublime astronomer, but very dif- 
ficult to be a good man : I esteem, therefore, 
the traveller who instructs the heart, but ile- 
spise him who oidy indulges the imagination. 
A man who leaves home to mend himself 
and others is a philoso])her ; but he wlio goes 
from country to country, guided by the 
blind impulse of curiosity, is only a vaga- 
bond. From Zerdushf ■' down to him of 
Tyauffia,'* I honour all those great names who 
endeavour to unite the world by their travels : 
such men grew wiser, as well as better, the 
faither they departed from home, and seemed 
like rivers, whose streams are not only in- 
creased, but refined, as they travel from their 
source. 

For my own part, my greatest glory is, 
that travelling has not more steeled my 
constitution against all the vicissitudes of 
climate, and all the depressions of fatigue, 
than it has my mind against tlie acciilents of 
fortune or the accesses of despair. Farewell. 



<* Zoroaster, or Zcrdusht, the reformer of relii;ion 
in Media, whose doctrines also spreail into Persia. 

* Apollonius, of Tyana, in Cappadocia, a Pytha- 
),'orean philosopher.' was liorii shortly after the 
I'hristiaii era. He travelled into many countries, 
and exercised great iulluencc over tlie vulgar, by 
whom he was regarded as a magician. 



vol.. I. 



18 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



LETTER Vin. 

THK CHINESE DECEIVED IN THE STREETS OF LONDON. 

From the Same, 



How iiisiippoitaMe, oli tlion possessor of hea- 
venly wisdom, woulil be this separation, this 
imnieasmable distance from my friend, were 
I not able thus to delineate my heart upon 
paper, and to send thee daily a map of my 
mind ! 

I am every day better reconciled to the 
people among whom I reside, and begin to 
fancy tluit in time I shall find them more 
opulent, more charitable, and more hospi- 
table than I at first imagined. I begin to 
learn somewhat of their manners and cus- 
toms, and to see reasons for several deviations 
which they make from us, from whom all 
other nations derive their politeness as well 
as their original. 

In spite of taste, in spite of prejudice, I 
now begin to think their women tolerable. I 
can now look on a languishing blue eye 
without disgust, and pardon a set of teeth, 
even thougli whiter than ivory. I now begin 
to laucy there is no universal standard for 
beauty. The truth is, the Bianners of the 
ladies in this city are so very open and so 
vastly engaging, that I am inclined to pass 
over the more glaring defects of their persons, 
since compensated by the more solid, yet 
latent beauties of the mind. What though 
they want black teeth, or are deprived of the 
allurements of feet no bigger than their 
thumbs, yet still they have souls, my friend 
— such souls, so free, so pressing, so hos])i- 
table, and so engaging! I have received 
more invitations in the streets of London 
from the sex in one night, than I have met 
witli in Pekin in twelve revolutions of the 
moon. 

Every evening, as I return home from my 
usual solitary excursions, I am met by seve- 
ral of those well-disposed daughters of hospi- 
tality, at difterent times, and in difierent 
streets, richly dressed, and with minds not 
less noble than their appearance. You know 
nature has indulged me with a person by no 
means agreeable, yet they are too generous to 
object to my homely appearance ; they feel 
no repugnance at my broad face and flat 



nose — they perceive me to be a stranger, and 
that alone is a sufficient recommendation. 
They even seem to think it their duty to do 
the honours of the country by every act of 
complaisance in their power. One takes me 
under the aiin, and in a manner forces me 
along; another catches me round the neck, 
and desires to partake in this office of hospi- 
tality ; while a third, kinder still, invites me 
to refresh my spirits with wine. Wine is, in 
England, resei-ved only for the rich ; yet 
here even wine is given away to the stranger ! 
A few nights ago, one of these generous 
creatures, dressed all in white, and flaunting 
like a meteor by my side, forcibly attended 
me home to my own apartment. She seemed 
charmed with the elegance of the furniture, 
and the convenience of my situation ; and 
well indeed she might, for I have hired an 
a])artnient for not less than two shillings of 
tlieir money every week. But her civility 
did not rest here ; for at parting, being de- 
sirous to know the hour, and perceiving my 
watch out of order, she kindly took it to be 
repaired by a relation of her own, which you 
may imagine will save some expense; and 
she assures me that it will cost her nothing. 
I shall have it back in a few days, when 
mended, and am preparing a proper speech, 
expressive of my gratitude on the occasion. 
"Celestial excellence!" I intend to say, 
" happy I am in having found out, after 
many painful adventures, a land of inno- 
cence, and a people of humanity. I may 
rove into other climes, and converse with 
nations yet unknown ; but where shall I meet 
a soul of such purity as that which resides in 
thy breast? Sure thou hast been nurtured 
by the bill of the Shin Shin, or sucked the 
breasts of the provident Gin Hiung! The 
melody of thy voice could rol) the Chong 
Fou of her whelps, or inveigle the Boh that 
lives in the midst of the waters! Thy ser- 
vant shall ever retain a sense of thy favours, 
and one day boast of thy virtue, sincerity, 
and truth, among the daughters of China! "' 
Adieu. 



A AVOMAN S MAN. 



11> 



LETTER IX. 

LICENTIOUSNESS OF THE ESOLISH WITH REGAKD TO WOMEN — CllAUACTER OF A WOMAN"s MAN. 

From the Same. 



I HAVE been ileceiveill Slie wlimn I fancied 
a daug;liter of paratlise has proved to me one 
of the infamous disciples of Han! I have 
lost a trille — I have gained the consolation of 
having discovered a deceiver. I once more, 
therefore, relax into my former intlilVereiice 
with regard to tlie English ladies: they once 
more hegin to ajipear disagreeable in my 
eyes. Thus is my whole time passed in 
foniiing conclusions which the next minute's 
experience may probably destroy ; the pre- 
sent moment becomes a comment on the 
p;ist. and I improve rather in humility than 
wisdom. 

Their laws and religion forbid the English 
to keep more than one woman; I therefore 
concluded that prostitutes were banished 
from society. I was deceived; every man 
here keeps as many wives as he can main- 
tain. The laws are cemented with blood, 
praised, and disregarded. Tlie very Chi- 
nese, whose religion allows him two wives, 
takes not half tlic lilierties of the Englisli in 
this ])articuhir.' Their laws may be compared 
to the books of the Sybils— they are held in 
great veneration, but seldom read, or sel- 
domer understood; even those who pretend 
t<) be their guardians disj)ufe about the 
meaning of many of them, and confess their 
ignorance of otliers. The law, therefore, 
which commands them to have l)Ut one wife, 
is strictly observed only by those for whom 
one is more than sulKcient, or by such as 
have not money to buy two. As for the rest, 

1 A Chim-si- call liave but one wife, but as many 
or as few handniaids .is he \)leases. T\n- forrai-r is 
ordinarily of his own rank in society, but the latter 
are generally iiurchaseil, and are placed on the 
«iime footing' as other ilonie»tii:s. The practice is 
only uonsiilered allowable when a man has no sous 
by his wife ; ami e\('n then, according to Mr. Davis, 
his resj)ect;ibility is not incr<ased by such a jiro- 
ceedin^', but rather diminishe<l ; and none but the 
rich can aflord such an increase of their household. 
Many of the ri^'hts of legitimacy are extended to a 
man's ofTsiirin:; by hanclmaideus; but they rank 
alter the children of the « ile. 



they violate it publicly, and some glory in 
its violation. They seem to tliink, like the 
Persians, that they give evident marks of 
manhood by increasing their seraglio. A 
mandarin, therefore, here generally keeps 
four wives, a gentleman three, and a stage- 
player two. As for magistrates, the country 
justices, and 'squires, they are employed first 
in debauching young virgins, and then pu- 
nisliing the transgression. 

From such a picture you will be apt to 
conclude, that he who employs four ladies 
for his amusement, has four times as much 
constitution to spare as he who is contented 
witli one; that a mandarin is much cleverer 
than a gentleman, and a gentleman than a 
playtr; and yet it is quite the reverse: a 
mandarin is frequently sujij/orted on spindle 
shanks, appears emaciated by luxury, and 
is obliged to liave recourse to variety, merely 
from the weakness not the vigour of his con- 
stitution, tlie number of his wives being the 
most e([uivocal symptom of his virility. 

Beside the country 'squire, there is also 
another set of men, whose whole employment 
consists in corrupting lieauty : these, thesi'lly 
part of the fair sex call amiable ; the more 
sensilde part of them, however, give them the 
title of abi)minal)le. You will probably de- 
mand what are the talents of a man thus ca- 
ressed by the majority of the o]i])Osite sex ? 
wliat talents, or what beauty is he possessed 
of su))erii)r to the rest of his fellows? To 
answer you directly, he has neitlier talents 
nor beauty, but then he is possessed of impu- 
dence and assiduity. With assiduity and 
impudence, men of all ages and all figures 
may connnence admirers. I have even been 
told of some who made professions ofexjiiring 
for love, when all the world could ])erceive 
they were going to die <jf old age: anil what 
is more sinjirising still, such liattered beaux 
are generally most infamously successful. 

A fellow of this kind emjiloys three hours 
every morning in dressing his head, by which 

c 2 



20 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



is understood only liis hair. He is a pro- 
fessed admirer, not of any particular lady, 
but of the whole sex. He is to siip])ose every 
lady has caught cold every night, which 
gives him an opportunity of calling to see 
how she does tlie next morning. He is upon 
all occasions to show himself in very great 
pain for the ladies : if a lady drops even 
a pin, he is to fly in order to present 
it. He never speaks to a lady without ad- 
vancing his mouth to her ear, by which he 
frequently addresses more senses than one. 
Upon proper occasions he looks excessively 
tender. Tliis is jjerformed by laying his 
hand upon his heart, shutting his eyes, and 



showing liis teeth. He is excessively fond 
of dancing a minuet with the lailies, by which 
is only meant walking round the floor eight 
or ten times with his hat on, aflecting great 
gravity, and sometimes looking tenderly on 
his partner. He never all'ronts any man him- 
self, and never resents an att'ront from ano- 
ther. He has an intinite variety of small 
talk upon all occasions, and laughs when 
he has nothing more to say. Such is the 
killing creature who prostrates himself to the 
sex till he has undone them ; all whose sub- 
missions are the efl'ects of design, and who to 
please the ladies almost becomes himself a 
lady. 




[A Minuet.] 



LETTER X. 



JOUENEV OF THE CHINESE FROM PEKIN TO MOSCOW CUSTOMS OF THE DAURES. 

From the Same. 



I HAVE hitherto given you no account of my 
journey from China to Europe, of my ti'avels 
through countries, where Nature sports in 
primeval rudeness, where she pours forth her 
wonders in solitude ; countries, from whence 
the rigorous climate, the sweeping inundation, 
the drifted desert, the howling forest, and 
mountains of immeasurable height, banish 



the husbandman and spread extensive deso- 
lation : countries, where the brown Tartar 
wanders for a precarious subsistence, with a 
lieart that never felt pity, himself more 
hideous than the wilderness he makes. 

You will easily conceive the fatigue of 
crossing vast tracts of land, either desolate, or 
still more dangerous by its inhabitants; the 



JOURNEY FROM PEKIN TO MOSCOW. 



21 



rrtreat of men, who seem driven from society, 
in oriicr to niiike war upon all the human 
race; iioniiiiully jirofessing a suhjection to 
Muscovy or China, hut without any resem- 
hlance to tiie countries on which tiiey depend. 

After I had crossed the great wall, the tirst 
ohjects that presented themselves were tlie 
remains of desolated cities, and all the mag- 
nificence of venerahle ruins. There were to 
he seen temples of heautiful structure, sta- 
tues wrought hy the hand of a master, and 
around, a country of luxuriant ])lenty ; hut 
not one single inhai)itant to reaj) the hounties 
of Nature. These were ])rospects that might 
humhle the pride of kings, and repress hu- 
man vanity. I asked my guide the cause of 
such desolation. These countries, says he, 
were once the dominions of a Tartar ])rince; 
and these ruins the seat of arts, elegance, and 
ease. This j)rince waged an unsuccessful 
war with one of the emjieroi-s of China; he 
was conquered, his cities plundered, and all 
his suhjects carried into ca])tivity. Such are 
the effects of the anihition of kings ! Ten der- 
vises. says the Indian proverh, shall sleep in 
peace u])on a single caq)et. while two kings 
shall quarrel, though they liave kingdoms to 
divide them. Sure, my friend, the cruelty 
and the pride of man have made more deserts 
tlian Nature ever made I she is kind, hut man 
is ungrateful ! 

Proceeding in my journey through this 
pensive scene of desolated heauty, in a few 
days 1 arrived among the Daures, a nation 
still dejjendent on China. Xaizigar is their 
principal city, which, compared with those 
of Europe, scarcely deserves the name. Tlie 
governors, and other officers, who are sent 
yearly from Pekin, abuse their authority, 
and often take the wives and daughters of 
the inhaltitants to themselves. Tiie Daures, 
accustomeil to hiise submission, feel no re- 
sentment at those injuries, or stille what they 
feel. Custom and necessity teach even l)ar- 
l^rians the same act of dissimulation, that 
ambition and intrigue insj)ire in the l)reasts 
of the polite. Upon beholding such unli- 
cense<l stretches of power, ahis! tliought I, 
how little does our wise and good eni))eror 
know of these intolerable exactions! these 
provinces are too distant for complaint, anil 
too insignificant to expect redress. The more 



distant the goveniment, the honester should 
be the governor to whom it is intrusted; for 
hope of impunity is a strong inducement to 
violation.' 

The religion of the Daures is more absurd 
than even that of the sectaries of Fohi." How 
would you be surprised, O sage disci])le and 
follower of Confucius! j'ou who believe one 
eternal intelligent cause of all, should you 
be ])resentat tlie barbarous ceremonies of this 
infatuated peojjle! How would you deplore 
the l)lindness and folly of mankind! His 
bo;isted reiusoii seems only to lead him astray, 
and brutal instinct more regularly points out 
the path to happiness. Could you think itV 
they adore a wicked divinity; they fear him 
and tliey worship him ; they imagine him a 
malici(nis being, ready to injure and ready to 
be ap])eased. The men and women assemble 
at midnight in a hut, whicli serves for a tem- 
ple. A ))riest stretches himself on tlie ground, 
and all the jieople pour fortli the most horrid 
cries, while ilrums and timbrels swell tlie 
infernal concert. After this dissonance, mis- 
called music, has continued aliout two hours, 
the jjriest rises from the ground, assumes an 
air of inspiration, grows big with the inspir- 



' Mr. Davis says : — " No'iniliviilual can hold a ma- 
•,'istracy in liis own province; and eacli pulilic otiicer 
is chanficil periodically, to prevent j,'rowiuf; con- 
nexions and liaisons with those under his govern- 
ment. .'V son or brother, or any other very near rela- 
tion, cannot hold olhce nnder a corresponding rela- 
tive." Every three years a most minute report is 
made by the viceroy of eiu-h province, on the con- 
duct and character of e\ery pulilic ollicer down to 
the lowest snliordinatos; and they are promoted or 
degraded accordingly. Sho\ild any rebellion or dis- 
turliame take place, the viceroy of the province is 
totiiUy ruined, though he may have lieen nowise 
hlameablc, and have been previously distinguished 
by the emperor's favour. 

'^ V6 or liudhlsm. Mr. Davis says this word has 
been constantly confounded with the name of the 
ancient Kmperor I'o-hy. The doctrines patronised by 
the state are those of ('cmfucins; those of Ft) anil 
Taou Ixiing discrediteil ratlicT than encouraged. The 
religion of Kii, .accordin;; to the Chinese ' Sacred In- 
structions," " regards neitlier heaven nor earth : its 
only object is the esUildishnn'nt of its sect and the 
unanimity of its members." The priests do not marry, 
anrl are extremely ignorant and sui>erslitious. nieir 
worship is too senseless lor the followers of a man 
like t'onfucius, and in the pri'S4>nt state of China 
Ibulhism is dei-linini;. It was introduced alniutthe 
first century of our era, and llo\irished chietly during 
the more barbarous ^leriud of Chinese history. 



22 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



iiig (lemon, anil pretends to a skill in fu- 
turity. 

In every country, my friend, the bonzes, 
the hrachmans, and the priests, deceive the 
people: all reformafionsheginfrom the laity ; 
tlie jiriests ^loiiit us out the way to heaven 
witii tlieir fingers, but stand still themselves, 
nor seem to travel towards tlie country in 
view. 

The customs of this jieople correspond to 
their religion : they keep their dead for three 
days on tlie same bed where the person died ; 
after which they bury him in a grave mo- 
derately deep, hut with the head still iinco- 
vered. Here for several days they preseiit 
him difl'erent sorts of meats ; wliich, when 
they perceive he does not consume, they till 
up the grave, and desist from desiring him to 
eat for the future. How can mankind be 
guilty of such strange absurdity? to entreat a 
dead body already puti-id to partake of the 
banquet ! Where, I again repeat it, is human 
reason ? not only some men, but whole na- 
tions, seem divested of its illumination. 



Here we observe a whole country adoring a 
divinity through fear, and attemi)ting to feed 
the dead. These are their most serious and 
most religious occupations ; are these men 
rational, or are not the apes of Borneo more 
wise '? 

Certain I am, O thou instructor of my 
youth! that without })hiloso)ihers, without 
some few virtuous men, who seem to be of a 
ditlerent nature from the rest of mankind, 
without such as these the worship of a wicked 
divinity would surely be established over 
every part of the earth. Fear guides more 
to their duty than gratitude : for one man 
who is virtuous from the love of virtue, from 
the obligation tiiat he thinks he lies under to 
the Giver of All, there are ten thousand who 
are good only from the apprehensions of pu- 
nishment. Could these last be persuaded, as 
the Epicureans were, that heaven had no 
thunders in store for the villain, tiiey would 
no longer continue to acknowledge subordi- 
nation, or thank that Being who gave them 
existence. Adieu. 



LETTER XI. 

THE BENEFITS OF LUXURY. IN MAKING A PEOPLE MORE WISE AND HAPPY.' 

From the Same. 



From such a picture of nature in primeval 
simplicity, tell me, my much respected 
friend, are you in love with fatigue and soli- 
tude'!* Do you sigh for the severe frugality 
of the wandering Tartar, or regret being born 
amidst the luxury and dissimulation of the 
polite? Rather tell me, has not every kind 

1 The wild ideas developed by Rousseau in his 
essay ' Sur riuef,'alite parmi les Hommes,' pub- 
lished iu 1762, in which he asserts savage life to be 
a state of innnceuce and happiness, were fashional)le 
and prevalent in every country in Europe when this 
letter was written. From tlie aiithor of the ' De- 
serted Village.' (^if we have a right to look for politi- 
cal economy in a poem ) we might scarcely have an- 
ticipated so admirable and enlightened a dissertation 
proving that the real interests of man are finally pro- 
moted by every successive advaucement of art and 
science, and he was not alraid to add, of luxury. 
Fifteen years afterwards appeared the gieat work of 
Adam Smith, which, in England at least, restored 
opinion to a sound state on this subject. 



of life vices peculiarly its own ? Is it not a 
truth, that refined countries have more vices, 
but those not so terrible; barbarous nations 
few, and they of the most hideous com- 
plexion ? Perfidy and fraud are the vices of 
civilised nations, credulity and violence those 
of the inhabitants of the desert. Does the 
luxury of the one produce half the evils of 
the inhumanity of the other ? Certainly, those 
])hilosophers who declaim against luxury 
have but little understood its benefits; they 
seem insensible, that to luxury we owe not 
only the greatest part of our knowledge, but 
even of our virtues. 

It may sound fine in the mouth of a de- 
claimer, when he talks of subduing our appe- 
tites, of teaching every sense to be content 
with a bare sutKciency, and of supjtlying 
only the wants of nature ; but is there not 
more satisfaction in indulging those appe- 



BENEFITS OF LUXURY. 



23 



tites. ifwith innocence and safety, than in 
restraining tlieni ? Am not I better ])leiiseil in 
enjoyment, tliaii in llie sullen satisfaction of 
thinkinir that I can live without enjoyment? 
The more various our artificial necessities, 
tlie wilier is our circle of pleasure; for all 
pleasure consists in ol)viating necessities as 
they rise : luxury, therefore, iis it increases our 
wants. incre;ises our capacity for ha])|)iness. 

Kxamine the iiistory of any country re- 
markahle for ojiulence and wisdom, you will 
find they would never have been wise had 
tliey not l)een tirst luxurious; you will find 
{X)ets, philoso])liers, and even patriots, march- 
ing in luxury's train. The reason is obvious; 
we then only are curious after knowledge, 
when we lind it connected with sensual hap- 
piness. The senses ever point out the way, 
and reflection comments upon the discovery. 
Inform a native of the ilesert of Kobi of the 
exact me;isure of the pai-allax of the moon, 
he finds no satisfaction at all in the informa- 
tion ; he wonders how any couhl take such 
pains, and lay out such treasure in order to 
solve so useless a difficulty ; but connect it 
with his happiness, by showing that it imj)roves 
navigation, that l)y such an investigation he 
may have a warmer coat, a better gun, or a 
finer knife, and he is instantly in raptures at 
so great an improvement. In short, we only 
desire to know what we desire to possess; and 
whatever we may talk against it, luxury adds 
the spur to curiosity, ami gives us a desire 
of becoming more wise. 

But not our knowledge only, but our vir- 
tues are improved by luxury. Observe the 
brown savage of Thiltet, to whom tlie fruits 
of tlie sjireading jjomegranate su])ply food, 
and its branches an haljitation. Such a cha- 



racter has few vices, I grant, but tliose he has 
are of the most hideous nature: rapine and 
cruelty are scarcely crimes in his eyes; nei- 
ther ])ity nor tenderness, which ennnblesevery 
virtue, luive any ]ilace in his heart ; he hates 
his enemies, and kills tliose he subdues. On 
tlie other hand, the polite Chinese and civil- 
ised Euroj)ean seem even to love their ene- 
mies. I have just now seen an instance where 
the English have succoured those enemies, 
whom their own countrymen actually refused 
to relieve.' 

The greater tlie luxuries of every country, 
the more closely, politically speaking, is that 
country united. Luxury is the child of 
society alone ; the luxurious man stands in 
need of a thousand different artists to furnish 
out his lui])piness; it is more likely, there- 
fore, tliat he should be a good citizen, who is 
connected by motives of self-interest with so 
many, than the abstemious man who is united 
to none. 

In whatsoever light, therefore, we consider 
luxury, whether as emjdoying a number of 
hands, naturally too feeble for more laborious 
employment; as finding a variety of occupa- 
tion for others who might be totally idle, or 
as furnishing out new inlets to happiness, 
without encroaching on mutual property; in 
whatever light we regard it, we sliall have 
reason to stand up in its defence, and the sen- 
timent of Confucius still remains unshaken ; 
" That we should enjoy as many of the luxu- 
ries of life as are consistent with ovir own 
safety, and the prosperity of others; and tliat 
he who finds out a new jileasure, is one of the 
most useful members of society."' 

1 See note to Letter xxiii. 



■M 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



LETTER Xn. 

THE UNERAL SOLEMNITIES OF THE ENGLISH THEIR PASSION FOU FLATTERING EPITAPHS. 



From the Same. 



From the funoral solemnities of the Daures, 
wlio think themselves the politest people in 
the world, I must make a transition to the 
funeral solemnities of the English, who think 
themselves as polite as they. The number- 
less ceremonies which are used here when a 
person is sick, appear to me so many evi- 
dent marks of fear and apprehension. Ask 
an Englishman, however, whether he is afraid 
of deatli, and he boldly answers in the ne- 
gative; but observe his behaviour in cir- 
cumstances of approaching sickness, and you 
will tind his actions give his assertions the 
lie. 

The Chinese are very sincere in this re- 
spect; they hate to die, and they confess 
tlieir terrors : a great part of their life is spent 
in preparing things proper for their funeral.' 
A poor artisan shall spend half his income 
in providing himself a tomb twenty years 
before he wants it ; and denies himself tlie 
necessaries of life, that he may be amply 
provided for when he shall want them no 
more.""^ 

But people of distinction in England really 



' Tlie Chinese employ talismans of various kinds 
to insure loni; life ; but the faeat respect shown to 
old a^e, and the aJvantajje and exemptions which 
it claims, may account for this. Mr. Davis states 
that, in speaking of death, some circumlocution is 
usually employed, as, for example, they say, " to be- 
come immortal:" a funeral they call "a'white af- 
fair" — white being the colo\ir used in mourning. 

* Tliere appears to be some little exaggeration in 
this passage. It is true that respect to the dead is 
one of the strongest feelings which actuate the Chi- 
nese ; but this is a matter which rather concerns the 
survivors ; and Mr. Davis, in describing their fune- 
ral ceremonies, sajs that a part of their superstition 
being, that money and clothes should be buried for 
tlie use of the deceased in the next world, these are 
very economically represented l)y jiaper. The rites 
of the dead are performed twice a-ycar, and to ne- 
glect them is an oflence which is punished by the 
law. .Vt the proper period the whole population of 
a town repairs to the tombs, which are eitlier among 
tlie hills or on liarren tracts of land ; and, alter re- 
pairing and sweeping the tombs, and making offer- 
ings, they leave streamers of red and white paper, to 
mark the fulfilment of this act of piety. 



deserve pity, for they die in circumstances 
of the most extreme distress. It is an esta- 
blished rule, never to let a man know that he 
is dying : physicians are sent for, the clergy 
are called, and everything passes in silent 
solemnity round the sick-bed. The patient 
is in agonies — looks round for pity; yet not 
a single creature will say that he is dying. 
If he is possessed of .fortune, his relations en- 
treat him to make his will, as it may restore 
the tranquillity of his mind. He is desired 
to undergo the rights of the church, for de- 
cency requires it. His friends take their leave 
only because they do not care to see him in 
pain. In short, a hundred stratagems are 
used to make him do what he might have 
been induced to perform only by being told, 
" Sir, you are past all hopes, and had as 
good think decently of dying." 

Besides all this, the chamber is darkened, 
the whole house echoes to the cries of the 
wife, the lamentations of the children, the 
grief of the servants, and the sighs of his 
friends. The bed is surrounded with priests 
and doctors in black, and only flambeaux 
emit a yellow gloom. Where is the man, 
iiow intrepid soever, that would not shrink 
from such a hideous solemnity ? For fear of 
atlrighting their expiring friends, the Eng- 
lish practise all tliat can fill them with 
terror. Strange effect of human prejudice, 
thus to torture merely from mistaken tender- 
ness ! 

You see, my friend, what contradictions 
there are in the tempers of those islanders : 
when prompted by ambition, revenge, or dis- 
appointment, they meet death with the ut- 
most resolution ; the very man who, in his 
bed, would have trembleil at the asjiect of a 
doctor, shall go with intrepidity to attack a 
bastion, or deliberately noose himself up in 
his garters. 

The passion of the Europeans for magnifi- 
cent interments is equally strong with that 
of the Chinese. When a tradesman dies, his 
frightful face is painted up by an undertaker. 



FLATTEllIXG EPITArilS OF THE EXGLISH. 



as 



niiil jiliiced in a proper situation to receive 
conijiany : this is called lying in state. To 
tills disagreeable spectacle all the idlers in 
town flock, and learn to loathe the wretch 
ilead, whom they de8j)ised when living. In 
this manner you see some who would have 
refused a shilling to save the lite of their 
dearest friend, liestow thousands on adorning 
Uieir putrid corpse. I have been told of a 
fellow, who, grown rich by the price of 
blood, left it in his will that he should lie in 
stiite: and thus unknowingly gibbeted him- 
self into infamy, wlien he might have other- 
wise quietly retired into oblivion. 

When the person is buried, the next care is 
to make his epitaph — they are generally reck- 
oned best which Hatter most ; such relations, 
therefore, as have received most l>enefits from 
tlie defunct discharge this friendly office, and 
generally flatter in jjroportion to their joy. 
When we read those monumental histories 
of the dead, it may be justly said, that •' all 
men are e(jual in the dust;'" for they all ap- 
pear equally remarkable for being the most 
sincere Christians, the most benevolent neigh- 
bours, and the honestestmen of their time. To 
go through an European cemetery, one would 
be apt to wonder how mankind could have 
80 basely degenerated from such excellent 
ancestors. Every tomb jiretends to claim your 
reverence and regret ; some are praiseil for piety 
in those inscriptions, who never entered the 
temple until they were dead; some are 
praised for being excellent poets, who were 
never mentioned, except for their dulness, 
when living; others for sublime orators, who 
were never noted except for their impu- 
dence: and others, still, for military achiev- 
ments who were never in any other skirmishes 
but with the watch. Some even make epi- 
taphs for themselves, and bespeak the reader's 



good-will. It were indeed to be wisiied that 
every man would early learn in this manner 
to make his own — that he would draw it up 
in terms as flattering as ])ossif)le, and that he 
would make it the employment of his whole 
life to deserve it. 

I have not yet been in a place called 
Westminster Abbey, but soon intend to visit 
it. There, I am told, I shall see justice done 
to deceased merit : none, I am told, are per- 
mitted to be buried there, but such iis have 
adorned as well as improved mankind. There 
no intruders, by the influence of friends or 
fortiuie, presume to mix their unhallowed 
ashes with philosophers, heroes, and poets. 
Nothing but true merit has a place in that 
awful sanctuary; The guardianshij) of the 
tombs is committed to several reverend 
priests, who are never guilty, for a superior 
reward, of taking down the names of good 
men, to make room for others of equivocal 
character, nor ever profane the sacred walls 
with pageants that posterity cannot know, or 
shall blush to own. 

I always was of opinion, that sepulchral 
honours of this kind should be considered as a 
national concern, and not trusted to the care 
of the priests of any country, how res])ectable 
soever; but froin the conduct of the reverend 
j)ersonages, whose disinterested patriotism I 
shall shortly l)e able to discover, I am taught 
to retract my former sentiments. It is true, tlie 
.Spartans and the Persians made a tine politi- 
cal use of sepulchral vanity — they permitted 
none to be thus interred who had not fallen 
in the vindication of their country. A mo- 
nument thus became a real mark of distinc- 
tion : it nerved the hero's arm with tenfold 
vigour, and he fought without fear, wlio only 
fought for a grave. Farewell. 



2(> 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 




[Westminster Abbey.] 



LETTER Xlir. 



A VISIT TO WESTMINSTER ABBEV. 

Fmn the Same. 



I AM just returned from Westminster Abbey, 
the place of sepulture for the philosojjhers, 
heroes, and kings of England. What a 
gloom do monumental inscriptions, and all 
the venerable remains of deceased merit in- 
spire! Imagine a temple marked with the 
hand of antiquity, solemn as religious awe, 
adorned with all the magnificence of barba- 
rous profusion, dim windows, fretted pillars, 
long colonnades, and dark ceilings. Think, 
then, what were my sensations at being intro- 
duced to such a scene. I stood in the midst 
of the temple, and threw my eyes round on 
tJie walls, tilled witli the statues, the inscrip- 
tions, and the monuments of the dead. 

Alas I I said to myself, how does pride at- 
tend the puny child of dust even to the 
grave ! Even humble as I am, I possess 
more consequence in the present scene than 
the greatest hero of them all : they have 
toiled for an hour to gain a transient immor- 
tality, and are at length retired to the grave. 



where they have no attendant but the worm, 
none to flatter but the epitaph. 

As I was indulging such reflections, a 
gentleman, dressed in black, perceiving me 
to be a stranger, came up, entered into con- 
versation, and politely ottered to be my in- 
structor and guide through the temple. " If 
any monument,"' said he, " should particu- 
larly excite your curiosity, I shall endeavour 
to satisfy your demands."" I accepted with 
thanks the gentleman"s offer, adding that " I 
was come to observe the policy, the wisdom, 
and the justice of the English, in conferring 
rewards upon deceased merit. If adulation 
like this," continued I, " be properly con- 
ducted, as it can in no ways injure those who 
are flattered, so it may be a glorious incentive 
to those who are now capal)le of enjoying it. It 
is the duty of every good government to turn 
this momimental pride to its own advantage 
— to become strong in the aggregate from 
the weakness of the individual. If none but 



VISIT TO WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 



27 



the truly great have a jilace in tliis awlul re- 
]iosit»)ry. a temple like this will give tlie 
tiuest lessons of morality, ami l)e a stroiii; 
incentive to true anil)ition. I am told that 
none have a place here hut chanacters of the 
most (listiuj^uished merit." The man in 
black seemed impatient at my observations ; 
so I discontinued my remarks, and we walked 
on together to take a view of every particular 
monument in order as it lay. 

As the eye is naturally caught by the 
finest objects, I could not avoid being parti- 
cularly curious about one monument, which 
a])peared more beautiful than the rest. 
" That," siiid I to my guide, " I take to be 
the tomb of some very great man. By the 
peculiar excellence of the workmanship, and 
tlie niagniticence of the design, this must l)e 
a trophy raised to the memory of some king 
who has saved his country from niin, or law- 
giver, who has reduced his fellow-citizens from 
anarchy into just subjection." *' It is not 
requisite," replied my companion, smiling, 
" to have such qualilications in order to 
have a very tine moimment here ; more 
humble al)ilities will suflice. ' " What ! I 
suppose, then, the gaining two or three bat- 
tles, or the taking half a score towns, is 
thought a sufficient qualification'?" " Gain- 
ing battles, or taking towns," replied the man 
in black, '• may be of service ; but a gentle- 
man inay have a very fine monument here 
without ever seeing a battle or a siege." 
" This, then, is the monument of some poet, 
I jircsume — of one whose wit li;is gained him 
immortality?" " No, sir," replied my guide ; 
" the gentleman who lies here never made 
verses ; and, as for wit, he despised it in 
others, Ijecause he had none himself." " Pray 
tell me, then, in a word," said I peevishly, 
" what is the great man who lies here ])arti- 
cularly remarkable forV" " Uemarkalile, 
sir!" s;iid my companion; "why, sir, the 
gentleman that lies here is remarkable, very 
remarkal)le — for a tomb in Westminster Ab- 
bey." " But, head of my ancestors I how 
has he got here ? I fancy he could never 
bribe the guardians of the temjjle to give 
him a place. SliouM he not be ashamed to 
be seen among comiiany, where even mode- 
rate merit would look likf infamy"?" "I 
sujipose," replied tiie man in Ijlack, '• tlic 



gentleman was rich, and his frienils, as is 
usual in such a case, tohl him he was great. 
He readily believed tliem ; the guardians of 
tlie temple, as they got by the self-delusion, 
were ready to lielieve him, too: so he paid his 
money for a fine monument, and the work- 
man, as you see, has made him one of the 
most beautiful. Think not, however, that 
this gentleman is singular in his desire of 
l)eing Imried among the great ; there are se- 
veral others in the temjjle, who, hated and 
shunned by the great while alive, have come 
here fully resolved to keep them company 
now they are dead." * 

As we walked along to a particular part of 
the tem])le, '" there," says the gentleman, point- 
ing with his finger, " tliat is the Poets" Corner; 
there you see the monuments of Shaksiieare, 
and Milton, and Prior, and Dravton." "■ Dray- 
ton !" I replied, " I never heard of him liefore ; 
but I have been told of one Pope; is hetliere?" 
" It is time enough," replied my guide, '' these 
hundred years; he is not long dead; people 
have not done hating him yet."^ " Sti'ange," 
cried I, *' can any be found to hate a man, 
whoselife was wholly sjient inenteitainingand 
instructing his fellow-creatures?" " Ves,"says 
my guide, "they hate liim for that very reason. 
There are a set of men called answerers of 
books, who take ujion them to watch tlie re- 
public of letters, anil distribute re])utat ion by 
the sheet ; they somewhat resemble the eu- 
nuchs in a seraglio, who are incapable of 
giving ])leasure themselves, and hinder those 
that would. These answerers have no other 
employment but to cry out Dunce, and Scrib- 
bler; to praise the dead, and revile the living ; 



1 Of the fiooo;. \ot.'(l by the nation for the mo- 
nument to Kiirl Chutliam, 7(]n/. were .•ii)i)roi>riat('il by 
the " ;;uarilians of thi' tciuiile" lor ailiuission-fees. 
It is, in<U"i'il, to he rojircttiMl tliatthr honour of iK-ing 
intt-rri'il in tliis sacrcil n-pository lias \»vn in some 
casrs a ((urstiou of ability to clischar^jc the fees, and 
in DthiTs it has tii'cn ^'ranteil on no tircat national 
(.'roiinils; anil thus tin- most illustrious names are 
found in ^.Totcsiiui' connexion with those of utterly 
insitrnilieanl ihtsous. Lord Hyron was denied a 
place in tlie Alibev on any terms. There is a mo- 
nument to (Joldsmith ; but his remains were interred 
in the 'remjile liuryinsj-irround. 

'■i pope ilied in nil, and was interred at Twicken- 
ham, where a nionuiueiit to his nu'inory was erected 
by Hisho)! Warburton, his legatee. There is no mo- 
nument to him inthe.\bbcy. 



28 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



to grant a man of confessed aliilit ies some small 
share of merit ; to a])j)laiul twenty blockheads, 
in order to gain tlie reputation of caiidoin- ; 
and to revile the moral character of the man 
whose writings they camiot injure. Such 
wretches are kept in pay by some mercenary 
bookseller, or more frequently the bookseller 
himself takes this dirty work ofl" their hands, 
as all that is required is to be very abusive 
and veiy dull. Every poet of any genius is 
sure to find slich enemies ; he feels, though 
he seems to despise, their malice, they make 
him miserable here, and in the pursuit of 
empty fame, at last he gains solid anxiety." 

" Has this been the case with every poet I 
see here ?"" cried I. " Yes, with every mother's 
sonof them," replied he, ''except he happened 
to be born a mandarin. If he has much 
money, he may buy reputation from your 
book-answerers, as well as a monument from 
the guardians of the temple." 

" But are there not some men of distin- 
guished taste, as in China, who are willing 
to patronise men of merit, and soften the ran- 
cour of malevolent dulness?" " 1 own there 
are many," replied the man in black, " but, 
alas ! sir. the book-answerers crowd about 
them, and call themselves the writers of 
books ; and the patron is too indolent to dis- 
tinguish ; thus poets are kept at a distance, 
while their enemies eat up all their rewards 
at the mandarins table." 

Leaving this part of the temple, we made 
up to an iron gate, through which my com- 
panion told me we were to pass, in order to 
see the monuments of the kings. Accordingly 
I marched up without further ceremony, and 
was going to enter, when a person who held 
the gate in his hand, told me I must pay 
first.' I was surprised at such a demand ; 

1 The power of regulatini; tlie admission of per- 
sons to Westminster Abbey belonsjs to the Dean and 
Chapter. Several laudable alterations have been 
made at St. Paul's, the Tower, British Museum, &c., 
in consenuence partly of the exertions of a Society 
whose object waste render our trreat national collec- 
tions and institutions instrumental in tlie improve- 
ment of the public taste ; but though aided h\ the 
Government in their views, no change has taken place 
in the regulations for admitting strangers to Westmin- 
ster Al5bey. In 1837 a coiTespondence took place on 
this subject between the Secretary of State and the 
Dean and Chapter. The Dean stated on this occa- 
sion, that " by a practice, which had come down to 



and asked tlie man, whetlier the people of 
England kej)t a show ? whether the palti-y 
sum he demanded was not a national re- 
proach ? whether it was not more to the ho- 
nour of the country to let their magnificence 
or their antiquities be openly seen, than thus 
meanly to fax a curiosity which tended to 
their own honour ? As for your questions, 
replied the gate-keeper, to be sure they may 
be very right, because I don't understand 
them ; but, as for that there threepence, I ^ 
farm it from one — who rents it from ano- 
ther — who hires it from a third — who leases 
it from the guardians of the temple, and we 
all must live. I expected, upon paying 
here, to see something extraordinary, since 
what I had seen for nothing filled me with 
so much surprise : but in this I was disap- 
pointed ; there was little more within than 
black coffins, rusty armour, tattered stand- 
ards, and some few slovenly figures in wax. 
I was sorry I had paid, but I comforted my- 
self by considering it would be my last pay- 
ment. A person attended us, who, without 
once blushing, told a hundred lies : he talked 
of a lady who died by pricking her finger ; 
of a king with a golden head, and twenty 
such pieces of absurdity. Look ye, there, 
gentlemen, says he, pointing to an old oak 
chair, there's a curiosity for ye ; in that chair 
the kings of England were crowned ; you see 
also a stone underneath, and that stone is 



them from their predecessors, the minor canons and 
singers were allowed to receive the money given for 
admission to certain reserved parts of the church ; 
and those receipts were reckoned as part of their 
stipends. To this practice the Dean and Chapter 
have piit an end, by pa\ ing from their own funds an 
equivalent for this part of the income of those gentle- 
men. The admission-fee at the same time was 
lowered: and, after payment of the men appointed 
to show the Abbey, was ordered to be applied to such 
purposes of ornament or alteration as were beyond 
the standing charges for repairs. Till about ten 
years ago a part of the Abbey was open to the jiublie, 
and had become a thoroughfare ; when the ill elTects of 
tliis liberty — namely, indecorous behaviour and con- 
stant noise, the tiltliy state of the church (especially 
in bad weatherl, the occasional injury done to the 
monuments, and the disturbance of the daily prayers 
— made it a duty of the Dean and Chapter to put a 
stop to the mischief, whatever might be the oblocjuy 
attending it." (See note to Letter xli.) In the 
above correspondence it was stated, that "the Dean 
and Chapter never received any fee or payment on 
account of these monuments." 



^•IS1T TO WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 



29 



Jacob's pillow. I could see no curiosity 
either in the oak chair, or the stone : could I, 
indeed, l)ehold one of the old kings of Kng- 
land seated in this, or Jacol>"s head laid upon 
the other, there might he something curious 
in the siglit ; hut in the present case there was 
no nu)re reason for my sur])rise than if 1 
should ])ick a stone from their streets, and 
call it a curiosity, merely because one of tiie 
kings happened to tread upon it as he passed 
in a jirocession. 

From hence our conductor led us through 
several dark walks and winding ways, utter- 
ing lies, talking to liimself, and flourishing a 
wand which he held in his hand. He re- 
minded me of the black magicians of Kobi. 
After we had been almost fatigued with a 
variety of objects, he at last desired me to 
consider attentively a certain suit of armour, 
which seemed to show nothing remarkable. 
Tliis armour, .said he, l)elonged to general 
Monk. — A'ery surprising, that a general should 
wear armour ! — And pray, added he, observe 
this cap; this is general Monk's cap. — Very 



strange indeed, very strange, that a general 
should have a caj) also! Pray, friend, what 
might this caj) have cost originally '.' — Tiiat, 
Sir, says he, I don't know ; but this cap is 
all the wages I have for my trouble. — A very 
small recompense truly, saiil I. Not so very 
small, replied he, for every gentleman ])uts 
some money into it, and J spend the money. 
— What, more money ! still more money ! — 
Every gentleman gives something, .Sir.— I'll 
give thee nothing, returned I : the guardians 
of the temjjle should pay you your wages, 
friend, and not permit you to squeeze tiius 
i'rom every spectator. When we ])ay our 
money at the door to see a show, we never 
give more as we are going out. Sure, the 
guardians of the temple can never think they 
get enough. Show me the gate ; if I stay 
longer I may probably meet with more of 
those ecclesiastical beggars. 

Thus leaving the temple precipitately, I 
retiu'ned to my lodgings, in order to ruminate 
over what was great, and to desjiise what was 
mean, in the occurrences of the day. 



LETTER XIV. 

THE UECEITION OK THE CHINESE FROM A L.^DV OF DISTINCTION. 
From the Same. 



I WAS some days ago agreeably suqnised by 
a message from a lady of distinction, who 
sent me word, that she most passionately de- 
sired the pleasure of my acquaintance ; and, 
with the utmost impiitience, expected an in- 
terview. I will not deny, my dear Fum 
Hoam, l)ut that my vanity was raised at such 
an invitation : I flattered myself that slie had 
seen me in some public place, and had con- 
ceived an afl'ection for my person, which thus 
induced her to deviate from the usual deco- 
rum» of the sex. My imagination painted 
her in all the liloom of youth and Ijcauty. I 
fancied her attended l)y the loves and graces; 
and I set out with the most pleiLsing exjjecta- 
tions of seeing tiie contjuest 1 had made. 

When I wa-s introduced into iicr apartment, 
my expectations were quickly at an end ; 1 
perceived a little siirivelled figure indolently 
reclined on a sofa, who nodded by way of 



approbation at my approach. This, as I was 
af'terwards informed, was the lady herself, a 
woman equally distinguished for rank, polite- 
ness, taste, and understanding. As I was 
dressed after the fashion of Europe, she had 
tukeii me for an Englishman, and conse- 
quently saluted me in her ordinary manner ; 
but wiien the footman informed her grace that 
I was the gentleman from China, she instantly 
lifted herself from tlie couch, while her eyes 
S])arkled with umisual vivacity. " Hless me ! 
can this be the gentleman that was born so 
far from home ? What an uimsiuil 'share of 
somethintjness in his whole a]i])('arance ! Lord, 
how I am charmed with the outlandish cut 
of his face ! liow bewitching tiie exotic 
l)readtii of his foreliead ! 1 would give the 
world to see him in his own country dress. 
Pray turn about, Sir, and let me see you be- 
hind. There ! there's a travell'd air for you ! 



30 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



'\'ou that attend there, liriiig up a plate of 
beef cut into small ]iieces ; 1 have a violent 
passion to see liim eat. Pray, Sir. have you 
got your diojwticks about you ?' It will he 
so pretty to see tlie meat carried to tlie mouth 
■with a jerk. Pray sjjeak a little Chinese : I 
have learned a little of tlie language myself. 
Lord ! have you nothing pretty from China 
about you ; something that one does not 
know what to do with '? I have got twenty 
tilings from China that are of no use in the 
world. Look at those jars, they are of the 
right pea-green; these are the furniture."* 

1 Two slender sticks by ivliidi tlie Chinese, join- 
ing the ends to;,'ether, raise their food to their mouths. 
At a great entert.iinment srlven by the Emperor Kien- 
Loons; to Lord Maeartney, the i.niests helped them- 
selves with chopsticks, small spoons of porcelain, and 
small and straiirht four-proni;ed silver forks. 

^ Tlio passion for collectini; rare China was one of 
the lollies of the last century, which a better taste 
luis superseded. In a paper in the ' Spectator ' in IT 1 1 , 
the writer says he remembers w hen the largest article 
of China was a coffee-cup ; but that there were now 
vases as large iis half-hogsheads fantastically arranged 
in cupboards and on mantel-pieces ; and tea-cups had 
i-TOwn from the size of a ladv's thimWe to that of a 



" Dear madam," said I, " these, though they 
may ajijiear tine in your eyes, are but paltry 
to a Cliinese; but, as they are useful utensils, 



punch-bowl. .\t one period of this fiishionable pen- 
v/tdjit a tca-st^rvice displayed the same sort of articles 
of various colours and patterns ; and the manufac- 
turers made up new sets in accordance with this 
whim. In a paper in the ' Idler,' 1759, it is stated : 
" China is sometimes purchased for little less than 
its weight in gold, though neither less brittle nor bet- 
ter painted than the modern ; and brown China is 
cauirht up with ecstacy, though no reason can be 
imagined for why it should be preferred to com- 
mon \ essels of common clay.' ' Hut this desire of ac- 
cumulating trifles " distinguished many by whom no 
other distinction could ever have been obtained." 
Horace \Valpole, writing to one of his friends, about 
the middle of the century, shows that his good sense 
had revolted against this spurious taste. He says : — 
" Lord Leicester told me the other day that he hear 
I would not buy some old China, because I was lay- 
ing out all my money in trees. ' Yes,' s;iid I, ' m 
lord ; I used to love blue trees, but now I like green 
ones.'" Perhaps the improvements of our manufac- 
turers of China contributed as much as any cause to 
destroy the tiiste for old China ; but, iu 1777, when 
Dr. .lohnson visited a china manufactory at Derby, 
he observed that he could have vessels of silver of 
the same size as cheap as what were then made 








[Chopsticks and Rice-Bowl.] 



VISIT TO A LADY, 



31 



^^tt^ 






ry' ■.-„ 




[Chinese Jars and Household Ornaments. From Chinese Drawings.] 



it is pro})er they should have a jjlace in every 
apartment." •' Useful ! Sir," rejilieil tlie 
lady ; '• sure you mistake ; they are of no 
use in the world." "What! are they not 
tilled with an infusion of tea, as in China ?" 
replied I. ' " Quite empty and useless, upon 
my honour. Sir." '■ Then they are the most 
cumhrous and clumsy furniture in tlie workl, 
as nothing is truly elegant J)ut what unites 
use witli heauty." " 1 j)rotest,"" says the 
lady. " I sliall begin to suspect thee of being 
an actual harharian. I su])pose you hold my 
two heautiful jiagods in contempt."' " What!" 



of por<«lain. Lou<; after this iwriod old China was 
liout'lit up witli avidity at auctions; :ind Mr. I'roker, 
in one of liis notes to Hoswell's ' I.ili' of .lohnson," 
says that he once saw a llowerpot which would hold 
alx)ut a pint sold for 'ol. 

' It docs not apjK-ar tliat omamcntjil China 
i« used hy the Cliincsc for this iiur))()sc. Mr. 
Pav is says that a ver\ usual ornament in d«cdling- 
houM-s consi.sts of jars and \ascs of porcelain, in 
whiih are plaeeil sticks of inreusc, madi' of sandal- 
wood dust, tx) perfume tlieir clianiliers. Tlic C'liincs*', 
he Siiys, are ^Teat collectors of cviriosities of all kinds. 



cried I,"' " has Fohi spread his gross supersti- 
tions here also ? Pagods of all kinds are my 
aversion."" " A Cliinese, a traveller, and 
want tast€ ! it surjirises me. Pray, Sir, ex- 
amine the beauties of that Chinese temple 
which you see at the end of tlie garden. Is 
there anything in China more beautiful ?'" 
" Wliere I stiiiid, I see nothing, ]Madam, at 
the end of tlie garden, tliat may not as well 
be cidled an Kgyptian pyramid as a Chinese 
temple : for tliat little building in view is as 
like tiie one as t"otlier."" " What ! Sir, is 
not that a Chinese temjile ? you must surely 
l)e mistaken. Mr. Freeze, who designed it, 
calls it one, and nobody disputes liis ])reten- 
sions to tiiste." '^ I now found it vain to con- 

^ In 17.^'.*, the year before (ioldsmith wrote this 
letter, Sir \\ illiam Chambers, a cidcbiated .irehi- 
tect, liad jmlilished ' l)csi;.nis for I'hincse lluild- 
inijs;' and iu the royal (,'ariUns at Kew, which he 
was employed to lay out, he Kave full scope to his 
favourite style, l)Oth in ;;ardenin:; and arcliltec- 
ture. In 177a he vindicated his predilection in a 
published ' Dissertation,' which was la.shed in a fa- 
mous ' Heroic ICpistle,' supposed to lie written by 



32 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



tradict the lady in anytliing slie thought fit 
to advance ; so I was resolved rather to act 
the disciple than the instructor. She took me 
through several rooms all furnished, as she 
told me, in the Cliinese manner ; sprawling 
dragons, squatting pagods, and clumsy man- 
darins, were stuck ujion every slielf : in turn- 
ing round, one must have used caution not to 
demolish a part of the precarious furniture. 

In a house like this, thought I, one must 
live continually upon the watch ; the inhahit- 
ant must resemble a knight in an enchanted 
castle, who expects to meet an adventure at 
every turning. '' But, madam," said I, 
" do not accidents ever happen to all this 
finery ?" "• Man, Sir," replied the lady, " is 
bom to misfortunes, and it is but fit I should 
have a sliare. Tliree weeks ago, a careless 
servant snapped oft" the head of a favourite 



mandarin : I had scarce done grieving for tliat, 
when a monkey broke a beautiful jar ; this I 
took the more to heart, as the injury was done 
me by a friend. However, I survived the cala- 
mity ; when, yesterday, crash went half-a- 
dozen dragons upon the marble heartli-stone ; 
and yet I live ; I survive it all : you can't 
conceive what comfort I find under afHictions 
from pliilosophy. There is Seneca, and Bo- 
lingl)roke, and some others, who guide me 
through life, and teach me to support its ca- 
lamities." I could not but smile at a woman 
who makes her own misfortunes, and then 
deplores the miseries of her situation. Where- 
fore, tired of acting with dissimulation, and 
willing to indulge my '.meditations in soli- 
tude, I took leave just as the servant was 
bringing in a plate of beef, pursuant to the 
directions of his mistress. Adieu. 



LETTER XV. 

AGAINST CRUELTY TO ANIMALS A STORY FROM THE ZENDEVESTA OF ZOROASTER.' 

From the Same. 



The better sort here pretend to the utmost 
compassion for animals of every kind : to 
hear tliem speak, a stranger would be apt to 
imagine they could hardly liurt the gnat that 
stung them ; they seem so tender, and so full 
of pity, that one would take them for the 
harmless friends of the whole creation, the 
protectors of the meanest insect or reptile that 
was privileged with existence. And yet 
(would you believe it ?) I have seen the very 
men who have thus boasted of their tender- 
ness, at the same time devouring the flesh of 
six diiferent animals tossed up in a fricassee.^ 

the poet Mason. Mr. Davis says : " Sir W. Cham- 
bers' ilescriptiou of Chinese gardenini; is a mere 
prose work of imagination, witliout a shadow of 
foundation in reality." The pagoda in Kew gardens, 
he says, is " a poor copv of the nine-storied pagodas of 
China." 

1 The Zendevesta, the sacred tjook of Zoroaster. 

* Rice is the staple article of food in China ; but 
cats, rats, and dogs are eaten by the poorer classes, 
particularly the latter, which are eaten by the rich, 
who also consider a wild cat fattened for the table a 
superior delicacy. The pig is almost the only animal 
reared for food ; and to raise food for cattle, in order 
to increase the quantity of human food, would be 
considered wasteful and extravagant. 



Strange contrariety of conduct ! they pity, 
and they eat the objects of their compassion ! 
The lion roars with terror over its captive ; 
the tiger sends forth its hideous shriek to in- 
timidate its prey ; no creature shows any 
fondness for its short-lived prisoner, except a 
man and a cat. 

Man was born to live with innocence and 
simplicity, but he has de\iated from nature ; 
he was born to share the bounties of Heaven, 
but he has monopolised them ; lie was born 
to govern the brute creation, l)ut he is become 
their tyrant. If an epicure now shall happen 
to surfeit on his last m'ghts feast, twenty ani- | 
mals the next day are to undergo the most P 
exquisite tortures, in order to provoke his ap- 
petite to another guilty meal. Hail ! O ye 
simple, honest bramins of tlie East ; ye inof- 
fensive friends of all that were born to happi- 
ness as well as you ; j-ou never sought a 
short-lived pleasure from the miseries of other 
creatures ! You never studied the torment- 
ing arts of ingenious refinement ; you never 
surfeited upon a guilty meal ! How much 
more purified and refined are all your sensa- 
tions than ours ! you distinguish every ele- 



FALSEHOOD rilOl'ACiATKI) BY BOOKS. 



33 



nic'Ut with the utmost precision ; a stream 
luitasteil before is a new luxury, a change of 
iiir is a new banquet, too reliued for western 
imaginations to conceive. 

Though the Kuropeans do not hoM tlie 
transmigration of souls, yet one of their tloc- 
tore has. with great lorce of argument, and 
great plausibility of reasoning, endeavoureil 
to prove, that the bodies of animals are the 
habitations of demons and wicked spirits, 
which are obligeil to reside in these prisons 
till the resurrection pronounces tlieir everlast- 
ing punishment; but iu-e previously con- 
demned to sutler all the \)a\us and hardshijw 
inflicted upon them l)y man, or by each 
other, here. If this be the case, it may fre- 
quently happen, that while we whip pigs to 
deatli, or l)oil live lobsters, we are putting 
some old acquaintance, some near relation, 
to excruciating tortures, and are serving him 
up to the very same table where he was once 
tlie most welcome companion. 
' •"• Kabul," says the Zendavesta, " was born 
on tlie rushy banks of the river Mawra : his 
possessions were great, and his luxuries kept 
pace with the alliuence of his fortune ; he 
hated the harmless Bramins, and despised 
their holy religion : every day his talde was 
decked out with the Hesh of a hundred dif- 
ferent animals, antl his cooks had a hundred 
dillerent ways of dressing it, to solicit even 
satiety. 

'• Notwithstanding all his eating he did 
not arrive at old age ; he died of a surfeit, 
caused by intemperance : upon this, his soul 
w:is carried otV, in order to take its trial be- 
fore a select assembly of the souls of tliose 
animals which his gluttony had caused to be 
slain, and who were now appointed his 
judges. 

'• He trembled before a tribunal, to every 
member of which he had formerly acted as 



an lunnerciful tyrant : he sought for pity, 
but found none disposed to grant it. Does 
he not remember, cries the angry iioar, to what 
agonies I was put, not to satisfy his hunger, 
but his vanity? I was lirst hunted to dentil, 
and my tlesli scarce thought worthy of coming 
once to his talile. Were my advice folhjwed 
he should do penance in the shape of a hog, 
which in life he most resembled. 

" I am rather, cries a sheep upon tlie 
bench, for having him suil'er under the ap- 
pearance of a lamb ; we may then send him 
through four or five transmigrations in the 
space of a month. Were my voice of atiy 
weight in the assembly, cries a calf, he should 
rather assume such a form as mine : I was 
bled every day, in order to make my tlesh 
white, and at last killed without mercy. 
Would it not be wiser, cries a hen, to cram 
him in the shape of a fowl, and then smother 
him in his own blood, as I was served '? The 
majority of the assembly were pleased with 
this punishment, and were going to condemn 
him without furtlier delay, when the ox rose 
up to give his opinion : I am infoiTned, says 
this counsellor, that the prisoner at the bar 
has left a wife with cliild behind him. By 
my knowledge in divination, 1 foresee that 
this child will be a son, decrepit, feeble, 
sickly, a plague to himself and all about 
him. What say you, then, my cc.mpanions, 
if we condemn the father to animate the body 
of his own son ; and by this means make him 
feel in himself those miseries his intemperance 
must otherwise have entailed upon his ])oste- 
rity ? The whole court apjilauch'd tlie inge- 
nuity of his torture ; they tlianked liim for 
his advice. Kabul was driven once more to 
revisit the earth ; and his soul, in tlie body 
of his own son, passed a period of thirty years, 
loaded with misery, anxiety and disease." 



LETTER XVI. 

OF FALSEHOOD PROPAGATED UY BOOKS SEEMINGLY SINCERE. 
From the Sft»ie. 



1 KNOW not whether lam more oijligcd to the 
Chinese missionaries for the instruction 1 
have received from them, or prejudiceil by 
the falsehoods they have made me believe. 



By them I was told that the Pope was uni- 
versally allowed to be a man, and placed at 
the head of the churcli ; in Kngland, however, 
they plainly prove him to be a whore in 

D 



34 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD, 



man's clotlies, and oi'ton burn liim in effigy 
as an ini])o.st<)r. A tliousanil IhioUs liave heen 
written (in either side of the question : priests 
are eternally dis|Hiting against each other; 
and those mouths that want argument are 
tilled with abuse. Which party must I be- 
lieve, or shall I give credit to neither? When 
I survey the absurdities and falsehoods with 
which the books of the Europeans are fille<l, 
I tliank Heaven for having been born in 
China, and that I have sagacity enough to 
detect imjiosture. 

The Euro])oans re])roach us with false his- 
tory and fabulous chronology : how should 
they blush to see their own books, many of 
which are written by the doctors of their reli- 
gion, filled with the most monstrous fables, 
and attested with the utmost solemnity ! The 
bounds of a letter do not permit me to men- 
tion all the absurdities of this kind, which in 
my reading I have met with. I shall confine 
myself to the accounts which some of their 
lettered men give of the persons of some of 
the inhabitants on our globe ; and not satis- 
fied with the most solemn asseverations, they 
sometimes pretend to have been eye-witnesses 
of what they describe. 

A Christian doctor, in one of his principal 
performances, says, tliat it was not imjjossible 
for a whole nation to have but one eye in the 
middle of the forehead. He is not satisfied 
with leaving it in no doubt ; but in another 
work assures us, that the fact was certain, 
and that he himself was an eye-witness of it. 
'' When,'" says he, " I took a journey into 
Ethiopia, in company with several other ser- 
vants of Christ, in order to preach the gospel, 
there I beheld, in the southern provinces of 
that country, a nation which had only one 
eye in the midst of their foreheads." ' 

1 St. Augustin, Bishop of Hippo, in his chief 
worl<, " De Civitate Dei," lib. xvi. p. 423, and in 
Sermon xxx\ iii. ad iVatros in Eremo. Goldsmitli 
need not liave ffone so far hack as tlie fourtli century 
for instances of extraordinary credulity of this kind. 
Sir Walter Raleigh has gravely related, in liis ac- 
count of a Voyage to Guiana, 1595, that on the banks 
of the Caora, a river near the Oronoco, "area na- 
tion of people whose heads appear not abo\ e their 
shoulders, which, though it may be thought a mere 
fable, yet I am resolved, for my o\mi part, it is true. 

They are reported to have their eyes in their 

shoulders, and their mouths in the middle of tlieir 
breasts, and that a long train of hair groweth back- 



Von will no doubt be surprised, revered 
Fum, with this author's eft'rontery ; but, alas! I 
he is not alone in this story; he has ordy bor- '\ 
rowed it from several others who wrote before 
him. Solinus creates another nation of Cy- 
clops, the Arima.spians, wlio inhabit those 
countries that border on the Caspian Sea. 
This author goes on to tell us of a ])eople of 
India, who have but one leg and one eye, and 
yet are extremely active, run with great swift- 
ness, and live by hunting. These people we 
scarcely know how to pity or admire ; but 
the men whom Pliny calls Cynamolci, who 
have got the heads of dogs, really deserve our 
compassion : instead of language, they ex- 
press their sentiments by barking. Soliims^ 
confirms what Pliny mentions ; and Simon 
Mayole, a French bisho]),^ talks of them as 
of particular and familiar acquaintances. 
" After passing the deserts of Egypt," says 
he, " we meet with the Kunokephaloi, who 
inhabit those regions that border on Ethiopia; 
tliey live by hunting ; they cannot speak, but 
whistle; their chins resemble a serpents head; 
their hands are armed with long sharp claws; 
their breast resembles that of a greyhound ; 
and they excel in swiftness and agility." 
Would you think it, my friend, that these 
odd kind of people are, notwithstanding their 
figure, excessively delicate ? not even an 
alderman's wife, or Chinese mandarin, can 
excel them in this particular. " These 
people," continues our faithful bishop, " ne- 
ver refuse wine ; love roast and boiled meat: 
they are particularly curious in having their 
meat well-dressed, and spurn at it if in the 
least tainted. When the Ptolemies reigned 
in Egypt,'' says he, a little further on, " those 
men with dogs" heads taught grammar and 
music.'' For men who had no voices to 



ward between their shoulders." In the " Pictorial 
.Shakspere'" there is a cut of these mar\elloas per- 
sons, from Ilondius's Latin translation of Raleigh's 
voyage. Sir John Mandevillc, the old traveller, has 
eciually absurd stories of monsters, giants and devils ; 
but he lived nearly three centuries belbre Raleigh. 

2 Solinus, a geographer and traveller, born at 
Rome in the third century, whose writings abound 
in marvels. 

3 Simon Maiolo, born in Piedmont in 1520; ap- 
pointed bishop of Volturara in 1572 ; retired from 
his see in consequence of the infirmities of age in 
1592, shortly after which he died. 



•WAR BETWEFA" FRANCE AND ENGLAND. 



35 



teach miisic. and wlio could not spi-ak, to 
teach graniinar, is. I confess, a littU' extraor- 
dinary. Did ever the disci))les of Fohi 
broach anything more ridicuU)us ? 

Hitherto we have seen men with heads 
strangely defonned, and with dogs" heads ; 
but what would you say if you lieard of men 
without any heads at all ? Pomponius Mt'la, 
Solinus, and Anlus ficllius describe them to 
our han<l : '• The lilemia' have a nose, eyes, 
and mouth on their breasts ; or, as others 
will have it, jdaced on their shoulders." 

One would think that these autliors had 
an antipathy to the human form, and were 
resolved to make a new iigure of their own : 
but let us do them justice. Though tliey 
sometimes deprive us of a leg. an arm, 
a head, or some such trifling part of the 
body, they often as liberally bestow upon us 
something that we wanted before. .Simon 
Mayole seems our particular friend in (his 
resi)€Ct : if he has denied heads to one part 
of mankind, he has given tails to another. 
He describes many of the English of his 
time, which is not more than a hundred years 
ago, as Laving tails.' His own words are as 



follow : — " In England there are some fa- 
milies which have tails, as a jjunishment for 
deriding an Augustin friar .sent by St. Gre- 
gory, and who preached in Dorsetshire. 
They sewed the tails of different animals to 
his clothes; but soon they found that those 
tails entailed on them and tlieir posterity for 
ever." It is certain tliat the autlior had some 
ground for this de8cri))tion. Many of the 
Englisli wear tails to their wigs to this very 
day, as a mark, I suppose, of the antiquity 
of their families, and perhaps as a symbol of 
those tails with which they were formerly 
distinguished by nature. 

Vou see, my friend, there is nothing so 
ridiculous that has not at some time been 
said by some philosopher. The writers of 
books in Europe seem to think themselves 
authorised to say what they please : and an 
ingenious philosopher among them * has 
openly asserted, that he would undertake to 
persua<le tlie whole rejiublic of readers to be- 
lieve that the sun was neither the cause of 
light nor heat, if he could only get six phi- 
losophers on his side. Farewell. 



LETTER XVIL 

OF THE WAU BETttEEN FRANCE AND ENGLAND, WITH ITS FRIVOLOUS MOTIVES. 

From the Same. 



Were an Asiatic politician to read the trea- 
ties of ])eace and friendshij) that have been 
annually making for more than a hundred 
years among the inhabitants of Europe, he 
would probably be sur])rised how it should 
ever hapjien that Christian princes could 
quarrel among each other. Their compacts 
for peace are drawn up with the utmost pre- 
cision, and ratifieil witli the greatest solem- 
nity : to these each party promises a sincere 
and inviolable obedience, and all wears the 
appearance of open friendship and unreserved 
reconciliation. 

Yet, notwithstanding those treaties, the 

' Alwut a hiin<lrcil and sixty year» had elapsed 
since the do.illi of Maiolo. Tlie work in wliich this 
wag asHertfd w.is doiilitless ' Les Jou^^s I'aniciilaires ; 
c'est idire, vingt-trois excellcnts discours des Choscs 



people of Europe are almost continually at 
war. There is nothing more easy than to 
break a treaty ratified in all the usual forms, 
and yet neither party be the aggressor. One 
side, for instance, breaks a trifling article by 
mistake — the opjwsite jjarty, upon this, 
makes a small but premeditated reprisal — 
this brings on a return of greater from the 
other — both sides complain of injuries and 
infractions — war is declared — tliey lieat — are 
beaten — some two or three hundred thousand 
men are killed — they grow tired — leave off" 
just where they began — and so sit coolly 
down to make new treaties. 

Natiirelles et SurnatureUcs.' which appeared in a 
tr.inslated form at Paris early in the sewutecnth 
century. 
* Fontcnellc. 

D 2 



SG 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



The English and French seem to place 
themselves foremost among the chamjjion 
states of Europe. Though ])arted hy a nar- 
row sea, yet are tliey entirely of opjjosite 
ciiaracters; and, from their vicinity, are 
taught to fear and admire each other. Tliey 
are at present engaged in a very destructive 
war — have already spilled much blood — are 
excessively irritated — and all upon account 
of one side's desiring to wear greater quanti- 
ties of fur.i than the other.' 

The pretext of the war is about some lands 
a thousand leagues oft'; a country cold, deso- 
late, and hideous ; a country belonging to a 
people who were in possession for time im- 
memorial. The savages of Canada claim a 
property in the country in dispute : tJiey have 
all the pretensions which long possession can 
confer. Here they had reigned for ages with- 
out rivals in dominion, and knew no ene- 
mies but the prowling bear or insidious 
tiger — their native forests produced all the 
necessaries of life, and they found ample 
luxury in the enjoyment. In this maimer 
they miglit have continued to live to eternity, 
had not the English been informed that those 
countries produced furs in great abundance. 
From that moment the country became an 
object of desire : it was found that furs were 
things vei-y much wanted in England ; the 
ladies edged some of their clothes with fiu-s, 
and mutis were worn both by gentlemen and 
ladies. In short, furs were found indispen- 
sably necessary for the happiness of the state ; 
and the king was consequently petitioned to 
grant, not only the country of Canada, hut 
all the savages belonging to it, to the suljjects 
of England, in order to have the people sup- 
plied with proper quantities' of this necessary 
commodity. 

So very reasonable a request was imme- 
diately complied with, and large colonies 
were sent abroad to procure furs, and take 
possession. The French, who were equally 
in want of furs (for they were as fond of 
muft's and tippets as the English), made the 



' War against France was declared in 1756, and 
(lid not terminate until the Peace of Paris in 17ti3. 
One of the principal causes of the war arose out of 
the indeterminate manner in wliieh the French and 
Kritisli interests in North America had been left by 
the Treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle in 1748. 



very same request to their monarch, and met 
willi the same gracious reception from their 
king, who generously granted what was not 
his to give. Wherever the French landed, 
they called the country their own ; and the 
English took possession wherever they came 
upon the same equitable pretensions. The 
harmless savages made no opposition ;_aud, 
could the intruders have agreed together, 
tliey miglit peaceaijly have shared this deso- 
late country between them. But they quar- 
relled about the boundaries of their settle- 
ments — alwut grounds and rivers to which 
neither side could show any other right than 
that of power, and which neither could oc- 
cupy but by usurpation. Such is the contest, 
that no honest man can heartily wish suc- 
cess to eitlier party. 

The war has contiinied for some time with 
various success. At first the French seemed 
victorious, but the English have of late dis- 
jiossessed them of the whole country in dis- 
pute. Think not, however, that success on 
one side is the harbinger of peace ; on the 
contrary, both parties must be heartily tired 
to eft'ect even a temporary reconciliation. It 
should seem the business of the victorious 
party to ott'er terms of peace ; but there are 
many in England who, encoiu-aged by suc- 
cess, are for still jirotracting the war. 

The best English politicians, however, are 
sensible that to keep their present conquests 
would be rather a burthen than an advan- 
tage to them — rather a diminution of their 
strength than an increase of power. It is in 
the politic as in the human constitution — if 
the limbs grow too large for tlie body, their 
size, instead of improving, will diminish tlie 
vigour of the whole. The colonies should 
always bear an exact proportion to the mo- 
ther country — when they grow populous they 
grow powerful, and by becoming powerful 
tliey liecome independent also ; thus, subor- 
dination is destroyed, and a country swal- 
lowed up in the extent of its own dominions. 
The Turkish empire would be more formid- 
able were it less extensive — were it not for 
those countries which it can neither com- 
mand, nor give entirely away — which it is 
obliged to protect, but from which it has no 
power to exact obedience. 

Yet, obvious as these trutlis are, tliere are 



STORY OF THE CHINESE MATROX. 



■37 



many EiiglisJinieii who are for traiisplaiiting 
now colonies into this late acquisition, for 
j)eoj>linp the deserts of America with the 
refuse of their countrymen, and (as they ex- 
press it) witJi the waste of an exuberant na- 
tion.' But who are those unhappy creatures 
who are to l)e thus drained away? Not the 
sickly, for tliey are unwelcome guests abroad 
as well as at home; nor the iille, for they 
would starve ;vs well behind tlie Apalachiaii 
mountains iis in the streets of London. This 
refuse is com])ose<l of the laborious and en- 
terprising — of such men as can be service- 
able to their country at home — of men who 
ought to be regarded as the sinews of the 



poo])le, and cherished with every degree of 
])olitical indulg<'nce. And what are the 
coniniodities wliich this colony, when csta- 
blisiieil, are to ])ro(hice in return? M hy, 
raw silk, hcmj). and tol)acco. England, there- 
fore, must make an exchange of her best and 
bravest subjects for raw silk, hemp, and to- 
bacco ; her hardy veterans and honest trades- 
men must be trucked for a box of snuff or a 
silk jM'tticoat. Strange absurdity! .Surely 
the jjolitics of the Daures are not more 
strange, who .sell their religion, their wives, 
and their lil)erty for a glass bead, or a j)altry 
pen-knife. Farewell. 




[The Chinese Widow fanning the Grave.] 



LETTER XVIII. 

STORY OF THE CHINESE MATRON.* 
From the Same. 



The English love their wives with much 
passion, the Hollanders with much prudence; 
the English, when tiiey give their hands, fre- 
quently give their hearts ; the Dutch give the 



' Ttie bi-Ui-f tli.it tlip poimlation ofclrcat Urit.iin 
wajtdiniini.'.liinK was a vulvar error, which continued 
nearly to the period of tile first census in 1801. 



hand, but keep the heart wisely in their own 
jjossession. The English love- with violence, 
and expect violent love in return ; the Dutch 
are satisfied with the* slightest acknowledg- 

>! Tliis story w.os tT.inslatcd into French \.\ I'fre 
Dcntrccollcs.'a I'rciich Jisuit missionary in I'hina, 
in the seventeenth century, ^'oltai^e has made some 
use of it in ' Zadit;.' 



38 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



ment, for they give little away. The Eng- 
lish expend many of tlie inatiimoiiial com- 
forts in the first year ; tlie Dutch frugally 
husViaud out tlicir ])leasures, and are always 
constant, because they are always indiU'ereut. 
There seems very little ditVerence between 
a Dutch l)ridegroom and a Dutch husband : 
both are equally possessed of the same cool 
unexpecting serenity ; they can see neither 
elysium nor paradise behind the curtain, and 
Yift'row is not more a goddess on the wed- 
ding-night than after twenty years" matrimo- 
nial acquaintance. On the other hand, 
many of tlie English marry in order to have 
one happy month in their lives ; they seem 
incapable of looking beyond that period ; 
they unite in hopes of finding rapture, and, 
disappointed in that, disdain ever to accept 
of happiness. From hence we see open ha- 
tred ensue, or, what is worse, concealed dis- 
gust under the appearance of fulsome endear- 
ment. Much formality, great civility, and 
studied compliments are exhibited in public; 
cross looks, sulky silence, or open recrimina- 
tion fill up their hours of private entertain- 
ment. 

Hence I am taught, whenever I see a new- 
married couple more than ordinarily fond 
before faces, to consider them as attempting 
to impose upon the company or themselves ; 
either hating each other heartily, or consum- 
ing that stock of love in the beginning of 
their course which should serve them through 
their whole journey. Neither side should ex- 
pect those instances of kindness which are 
inconsistent with true freedom or happiness 
to bestow. Love, when founded in the heart, 
will show itself in a thousand unpremedi- 
tated sallies of fondness ; but every cool de- 
liberate exhibition of the passion only ar- 
gues little understanding, or great insince- 
rity. 

Choang was the fondest husliand, and 
Hansi the most endearing wife in all the king- 
dom of Korea : they were a pattern of conju- 
gal bliss. The inhabitants of the country 
around saw, and envied their felicity : wher- 
ever Choang came Hansi was sure to follow ; 
and in all the pleasures of Hansi, Choang 
was admitted a partner : they walked hand 
in hand wherever they appeared, showing 
every mark of mutual satisfaction ; em- 



bracing, kissing — their moutlis were for ever 
joined, and, to speak in the language of 
anatomy, it was with them one perpetual 
anastomosis. 

Their love was so great, that it was 
thought nothing could interrupt their mu- 
tual peace ; when an accident happened, 
which, in some measure, diminished the hus- 
band's assurance of his wife's fidelity ; for 
love so refined as his was subject to a thou- 
sand little disquietudes. 

Happening to go one day alone among the 
tombs that lay at some distance from his 
house, he there perceived a lady dressed in the 
deepest mourning (being clothed all over 
in white ' ), fanning the wet clay that was 
raised over one of the graves with a large 
fan, which she held in her hand. Choang, 
who had early been taught wisdom in the 
school of Lao, was unable to assign a cause 
for her present employment ; and, coming 
up, civilly demanded the reason. " Alas ! " 
replied the lady, her eyes bathed in tears, 
" how is it possible to survive the loss of my 
husband, who lies buried in this grave ? He 
was the best of men — the tenderest of hus- 
bands : with his dying Vjreath he bid me 
never marry again ^ till the earth over his 
grave should be dry ; and here you see me 
steadily resolving to obey his will, and 
endeavouring to dry it with my fan. I 
have employed two whole days in fulfilling 
his commands, and am determined not to 
marry till they are punctually obeyed, even 
though Iris grave should take up four days 
in drying." 

Choang, who was struck with the widow's 
beauty, could not, however, avoid smiling at 
her haste to be married ; but concealing the 
cause of his mirth, civilly invited lier home, 
adding, that he had a wife who might be ca- 
pable of giving her some consolation. As 
soon as he and his guest were returned, he 
imparted to Hansi in private what he had 
seen, and could not avoid expressing his un- 
easiness that such might be his own case if 

1 " The colour of mourning is white, and dull 
pey, or ash ; with round buttons of glass or crystal, 
in lieu of jjilt ones." - Davis, vol. i., p. 301. 

^ Mr. Davis says that " it is in all cases disre- 
putable, and in some (as those of a particular rank) 
illegal, for a widow to marry again." 



STORY OF THE CHINESE MATROX. 



39 



liis ileart'st wife should one day liappen to 
survive him. 

It is iinpossil)h> to describe Hansi's resent- 
ment at so unkind a suspicion. As her passion 
lor iiini w;is not only great, Ijut extremely de- 
licate, slie emjjloyed tears, anger, frowns, and 
exclamations, to chide his susjiicions. The 
widow herself was inveiglied against; and 
Hansi declared, she w;is resolved never to 
sleep under the same roof with a wretch who, 
like her, could be guilty of such barefaced in- 
constancy. The night was cold and stormy ; 
however, the stranger was obliged to seek an- 
other lodging, forClu)ang was not disposed to 
resist, and Hansi would have her way. 

The widow had scarcelj- i)een gone an hour, 
when an old iliscijjle of Clioang's, whom he 
had not seen for many years, came to pay 
him a visit. He was received with the ut- 
most ceremony, placed in the most honour- 
able seat at supper, and the wine began to 
circulate with great freedom. Choang and 
Hansi exliiljited oj)en marks of mutual ten- 
derness and unfeigned reconciliation — no- 
thing could equal their apparent happiness; 
so fond a liusljand, so obedient a wife, few 
ould behold without regretting their own 
infelicity : when, lo ! their happiness was 
at once disturbed by a most fatal accident : 
Choang fell lifeless in an a[)oj)lectic tit upon 
the door. Every method was used, but in 
vain, for his recovery. Hansi was at first 
inconsolalile for his death; after some hours, 
however, she found spirits to read his last 
will. The ensuing day she began to moralise 
and talk wisdom — the next day she was 
aide to comfort the young disci])le — and, on 
the third (to shorten a long story), they both 
agreed to lie married. 

Tliere was now no longer mourning in the 
apartments : ' the body of Choang w;is now 
thrust into an old coffin, and placed in one 
of the meanest rooms, there to lie unattended 
until the time prescribed iiy law for his in- 
terment. In the mean time, Hansi and th(! 
young di8ci])le were arrayed in the most mag- 
nificent hai)its: the bride wore in her nose a 
jewel of innnense jirice, anil her lover was 
dressed in all the finery of his former miuster, 
together with a pair of artificial whiskers 

' The period of mourning is unusually lent,' in Cliina. 



that reached down to his toes. Tlic Ikjiit of 
their nu])tials was arrived — the wliole family 
sympathised with their ajjproaching haj)pi- 
ness — the apartments were brightened up 
with lights that dill'used the most exquisite 
jjerfunie, and a lustre more bright llian noon- 
day. The lady ex))ected her youthl'id lover 
in an inner ajiartmeiit with impatience, when 
his servant, api>roaching witli tenor in his 
countenance, informed her that his master was 
fallen into a (it, which would certainly be 
mortal, unless the heart of a man lately dead 
could be obtained, and a])])lied to lus breast. 
She scarcely waited to hear the end of the 
story, when fucking up her clothes, she ran 
with a mattock in her hand to the coffin 
where Choang lay, resolving to apply the 
heart of her dead husband as a cure for the 
living. She therefore struck the lid with the 
utmost violence. In a few blows the coffin 
Hew open, when the body, wliicli, to all ap- 
pearance, had been dead, began to move. 
I'errified at the sight, Hansi dropped the mat- 
tock, and Clioang walked out, astonished at 
his own situation, his wife's unusual magni- 
ficence, and her more amazing surprise. He 
went among the apartments, unable to con- 
ceive the cause of so much splendovar. He 
was not long in suspense before his domestics 
informed him of every transaction since he 
first became insensible. He could scarcely 
believe what tliey told him, and went in pur- 
suit of Hansi herself, in order to receive more 
certain information, or to reproach her in- 
fidelity. But she prevented his reproaclies : 
he found her weltering in blood, for she had 
stabi)ed herself to the heart, being unable to 
survive her shame and disappointment. 

Choang, being a philoso]ilier, was too wise 
to make any loud lamentations; he thought it 
best to bear his loss with serenity ; so, mend- 
ing up the old coflin where he had lain himself, 
he placed his faithless spouse in his room; 
and, unwilling that so many nuptial ])repara- 
tions sliould be ex))ended in vain, he, the same 
night, married the widow with the large fan. 

As they both were apprised of the foibles 
of each otiier beforehand, they knew how to 
excuse them af"ter marriage. They lived to- 
gether for many years in great tranquillity, 
and, not expecting rapture, made a shift to 
find contentment. Farewell. 



40 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



LETTER XIX. 

THE ENGLISH METHOD OF TREATING WOMEN CAIGHT IN ADULTERY THE RUSSIAN METHOD. 

To the Same. 



The gentleman dressed in lilack, wlio was 
my companion tlirough Westminster Abbey, 
came yesterday to pay me a visit ; and, after 
drinking tea, we both resolved to take a walk 
togetlier, in order to enjoy tlie freshness of the 
countiy, which now begins to resmne its 
verdure. I3efore we got out of the suburbs, 
liowever, we were stop])ed in one of the 
streets by a crowd of people, gatliered in a 
circle round a man and his wife, v ho seemed 
too loud and too angry to be understood. 
The people were highly pleased witli the dis- 
jjute, which, upon inquiry, we found to be 
between Dr. Cacafogo, an apothecary, and 
his wife. Tlie doctor, it seems, coming un- 
expectedly into his wife's apartment, found a 
gentleman th( re in circumstances not in tlie 
least equivocal. 

Tlie doctor, who was a person of nice ho- 
nour, resolving to revenge the flagrant insult, 
immediately flew to the chimney-piece, and, 
taking down a rusty blunderbuss, drew the 
trigger upon the defiler of his bed. The de- 
linquent would certainly liave been shot 
tln-ough the heiid. but that the piece had not 
been charged for many years. Tlie gallant 
made a shift to escape through the window, 
Imt the lady still remained ; and, as she well 
knew her husband's temper, undertook to 
manage the quarrel witliout a second. He 
was furious, and she loud : their noise had 
gathered all the mob, who charitably as- 
sembled on the occasion, not to prevent, but 
to enjoy tlie quarrel. 

" Alas !"" said I to my companion. " what 
will become of this unhajipy creature thus 
cauglit in adultery ? Believe me, I pity her 
from my heart ; her husband. I suj)]K)se, will 
show her no mercy. Will they burn her as 
in India, or behead her as in Persia? Will 
tliey load her with stripes as in Turkey, or 
keep her in perpetual imprisonment, as with 
us in China ? ' Prithee, what is the wife's 

' Mr. Davis states, that in ordinary cases wo- 
men, instead of being sent to a public prison, are 



punishment in England for such offences ?" 
" When a lady is thus caught ti-ipping," re- 
plied my companion, " they never punish 
her, but the husband." " Vou surely jest," 
interrupted I ; " I am a foreigner, and you 
would abuse my ignorance J'' " I am really 
serious," returned he : " Dr. Cacafogo has 
caught his wife in the act ; but, as he had 
no witnesses, his small testimony goes for 
notliing ; the consequence, therefore, of his 
discovery will be, that she will be packed off 
to live among her relations, and the doctor 
must be obliged to allow her a separate main- 
tenance." " Amazing !" cried I ; "is it not 
enough that she is permitted to live separate 
from the object she detests, but must he give 
her money to keep lier in spirits too ?" " That 
he must, " said my guide, " and be called a 
cuckold by all his neighbours into the bar- 
gain. The men will laugh at him, the ladies 
will pitj' him ; and all that his warmest friends 
can say in liis favour will be, that ' the poor 
good soul has never had any hann in him.' " 
" I want patience," interrupted I ; '• what ! are 
there no private chastisements for the wife; no 
schools of penitence to show her folly ; no 
blows for such delinquents f " Psha, man," 
replied he, smiling, " if every delinquent 
among us were to be treated in your manner, 
one half of the kingdom would flog the other." 
I must confess, my dear Fum. that if I 
were an English husband, of all things I 
would take care not to be jealous, nor busily 
pry into those secrets my wife was pleased to 
keep from me. Should I detect her infidelity, 
what is the consequence ? If I calmly pocket 
the abuse, I am laughed at by her and her 
gallant ; if I talk my griefs aloud like a tra- 



committed to the charge of their relatives, who are 
resjionsible for their custody. Adultery is punished 
with imprisonment, and, according to Staunton, 
^^itll eighty or a hundred tdows, proportioned to 
tlie circumstances of tlie offence. A husl^and may 
divorce a wife guilty of adultery, disobedience to 
the husband's parents, talkativeness, thieving, ill- 
temper, or subject to inveterate infirmities. 



REriBLIC OF LETTERS IN ENGLAND. 



41 



getly hero, I am laughed at hy the whole 
wnrlil. The course, then. I would take would 
be. whenever I went out. to fell my wile 
wiiere I was |?oin;j:. lest I should unexjiectedly 
meet her abroad in company with some dear 
deceiver. Whenever I returned, I would 
use a |)eculiar rap eit the door, and give four 
loud hems .as I walked deliberately up the 
staircase. I would never inquisitively jieep 
under her bed, or look behind tlie curtains. 
And even though I knew the cai)tain was 
tliere. I would calmly take a disli of my wife's 
cool tea. and talk of tlie army with reverence. 

Of all nations, the Russians seem to me to 
l)ehave most wisely in such circumstances. 
The wife ])roniises her husband never to let 
him see her transgressions of this nature ; and 
he as punctually promises, whenever she is so 
detected, without the least anger, to beat her 
without mercy ; so they both know what each 
has to expect ; the lady transgresses, is l)eaten, 
taken again into favour, and all goes on as 
before. 

When a Russian young lady, therefore, is 
to be married, her father, with a cudgel in 
his hand, asks the l)ridegroom, whether he 
chooses this virgin for liis bride? to which the 
other replies in tlie aflimiative. Upon this, 
the father, turning the lady three times round, 
and giving her three strokes with his cudgel 



on the back ; " My dear," cries he, " these are 
the last blows you are ever to receive from 
your tender father ; I resign my authority 
and my cudgel to your husband ; he knows 
better than me the use of either.' The bride- 
groom knows decorum too well to accept of 
the cuflgel abruj)tly ; he assures the father 
that the lady will never want it, and that he 
would not, for tlie world, make any use of it; 
but the f.ither, who knows what the ladvmay 
want better than he, insists ujion his accept- 
ance : u])on this there follows a scene of Rus- 
sian politeness, while one refuses and the 
other offers the cudgel. The whole, however, 
ends with the bridegroom's taking it; upon 
which the lady drops a curtsy in token of 
obedience, and the ceremony proceeds as 
usual. 

There is something excessively fair and 
open in (his method of courtship : by this, 
both sides are prepared for all the matrimonial 
adventures that are to follow. Marriage has 
been compared t« a game of skill for life : 
it is generous thus in botli jiarties to de- 
clare they are sharpers in tlie beginning. 
In England, I am told, l)oth sides use every 
art to conceal their defects from each other 
before marriage, and the rest of their lives 
may be regarded as doing penance for their 
fonner dissimulation. Farewell. 



LETTER XX. 



SOME ACCOUNT OF THE REPUBLIC OF LETTERS IV ENGLAND. 
From f/ie Same. 



The Republic of Letters is a very common 
expression among the Europeans : and yet 
when ap])lied to the learned of Eurojie, is tlie 
most absurd that can l)e imagined, since no- 
thing is more unlike a rejnddic than the 
society which goes by that name. From this 
expression, one would be apt to imagine that 
the learned were united into a single body, 
joining their interests, and concurring in the 
same design. From this, one miglit be apt 
to com])are them to our literary societies in 
China, where each acknowli-clgcs a just subor- 
dination, and all contribute to build the 



temple of science, without attempting, from 
ignorance or envy, to obstruct each otlier. 

Rut very dilVerent is the state of learning 
here: every member of tliis fancied republic 
is desirous of governing, and none willing to 
obey ; each looks upon his fellow as a rival, 
not an assistant in the same pursuit. They 
calumniate, they injure, they despise, they 
ridicule each other; if one man writes a 
book that ])leases. others shall write liooks to 
show that he mii,'ht have given still greater 
i)leasure, or should not have ])leased. If one 
happen to hit upon something new. there are 



J 2 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



numbers ready to assure tlie public that iill 
this was IK) novelty to them or the learned ; 
that Cardauus,' or Brunus,^ or some other 
author too dull to be generally read, had an- 
ticipated tlie discovery. Tlius, instead of 
uniting like the members of a commonwealth, 
they are divided into almost as many factions 
;vs there are men ; and their jarring constitu- 
tion, instead of being stj-led a republic of let- 
ters, sliould be entitled an anarchy of lite- 
rature. 

It is true there are some of superior abili- 
ties who reverence and esteem each other ; 
but their mutual admiration is not sutficient 
to shield oft" the contempt of the crowd. The 
wise are but few, and they praise with a feeble 
voice; the vulgar are many, and roar in re- 
proaches. The truly great seldoin unite in 
societies ; have few meetings, no cabals ; the 
ilunces hunt in full crj- till they have run 
down a reputation, and then snarl and fight 
with each other about dividing the spoil. 
Here you may see the compilers and the book- 
answerers of every month, when they have 
cut up some respectable name, most frequently 
reproaching each other with stupidity and 
dulness ; resembling the wolves of the Russian 
forest, who prey upon venison or horse-flesh 
when they can get it; but in cases of neces- 
sity lying in wait to devour each other. 
While they have new books to cut up, they 
make a hearty meal ; but if this resource 
should unhappily fail, then it is that critics 
eat up critics, and compilers rob from com- 
pilations. 

Confucius observes, that it is the duty of 
the learned to unite society more closely, and 
to persuade men to become citizens of the 
world ; but the authors I refer to are not oidy 
for disuniting society but kingdoms also : if 

1 Cardanus, an Italian physician of the sixteenth 
century, author of nvimerous works, many of them 
written while the author was in embarrassed circum- 
stances, which compelled him to extend quantity at 
the expense of quality. 

* There were several men of letters and eminent 
persons of the name ; but most probably Giordano 
Bruno (in Latin Brunus) is meant He was an 
Italian, and was preparing to enter the Dominican 
order ; but before his noviciate was finished he em- 
braced the doctrines of Calvin and retired to Geneva. 
His subsequent scepticism, and his burning by the 
Inquisition, are memorable in the history of perse- 
cution for opinions. 



the English are at war with France, the 
dunces of P>ance think it their duty to be at 
war with those of England. Thus Freron,* 
one of their tirst-rate scribblers, thinks proper 
to characterise all the English writers in the 
gross : " Their whole merit, " says he, " con- 
sists in exaggeration and often in extrava- 
gance : correct their pieces as you please, there 
still remains a leaven which corrupts the 
whole. They sometimes discover genius, but 
not the smallest share of taste : England is 
not a soil for the plants of genius to thrive 
in." This is open enough, with not the least 
adulation in the picture ; but hear what a 
Frenchman of acknowledged abilities says 
upon the same subject : " I am at a loss to 
determine in what we excel the English, or 
where they excel us ; when I compare the 
merits of both in any one species of literary 
composition, so many reputable and pleasing 
writers present themselves from either country, 
that my judgment rests in suspense : I am 
pleased with the disquisition, without finding 
the object of my inquiry." But lest you 
should think the French alone are faulty in 
this respect, hear how an English journalist 
delivers his sentiments of them : " We are 
amazed,'' says he, " to find so manj' work.s 
translated from the French, while we have 
such numbers neglected of our own. In 
our opinion, notwithstanding their fame 
throughout the rest of Europe, the French 
are the most contemptible reasoners (we 
had almost said writers) that can be im- 
agined. However, nevertheless, excepting, 
&c." Another English writer, Shaftesbury, 
if I remember, on the contrary says, that the 
French authors are pleasing and judicious, 
more clear, more methodical, and entertain- 
ing, than those of his own country. 

From these opposite pictures you perceive 
that the good authors of either country praise 
and the bad revile each other ; and yet, per- 
haps, you will be surjirised that indift'erent 
writers should thus be the most apt to cen- 
sure, as they have the most to apprehend 
from recrimination : you may perhaps ima- 
gine, that such as are possessed of fame them- 
selves should be most ready to declare their 

* Freron, editor of ' L'.\unee Litteraire,' which 
commenced in 1756, and one of the principal writers 
in ' Le Journal Etranger.' 



REPUBLIC OF LETTERS IN ENGLAND. 



43 



opinions, since what they say might pass for 
decision. But the truth happens to he, that 
the great are solicitous only of raising their 
own reputations, while the opposite class, 
alas! are solicitous of bringing every reputa- 
tion down to a level with their own. 

But let us acquit them of malice and 
envy. A critic is often guided hy the same 
motives that direct liis author : the author en- 
deavours to persuade us tliat he iuis written a 
good book; the critic is equally solicitous to 
show that he could write a better, had he 
thought proper. A critic is a being pos- 
sessed of all the vanity, but not the genius of 
a scholar ; incapable, from his native weak- 
ness, of lifting himself from the ground, he 
apjjlies to contiguous merit for su])port ; 
makes the sportive sallies of anotiier's imagi- 
nation his serious employment; pretends to 
take our feelings under his care, teaches 
where to condemn, where to lay the emphasis 
of])raise; and may with as much justice be 
called a man of taste, as the Chinese who 
measures his wisdom by the length of his 
nails.' 

' To allow the nails of the left hand to grow to a 
great len^'th is considered a mark of ijentility liotli in 
men and women. Mr. Davis says, they have been 
known to protect the nails from breaking " by means 
of thin slips of baralKW." 



If then a book, spirited or humorous, hap- 
{)ens to ajipear in the repulilic of letters, se- 
veral critics are in waitiiiir to liid the {)ul)lic 
not to laugh at a single line of it, for they 
themselves had read it, aTid they know what 
is most jiroperto excite laughter. Other cri- 
tics contradict the fulminations of this tribu- 
nal, call them all spiders, and assure the 
public that they ought to laugh without re- 
straint. Another set are in the mean time 
quietly employed in writing notes to the 
l)ook, intended to show the particular pas- 
sages to be laughed at : wlieu the.se are out, 
otliers still there are who write notes upon 
notes : thus a single new book employs not 
only the paper-makers, the printers, the press- 
men, the bookbinders, the hawkers, but 
twenty critics and as many compilers. In 
short, the body of the learned may be com- 
pared to a Persian army, wliere there are 
many pioneers, several suttlers, numl)erless 
servants, women and children in abundance, 
and but few soldiers.^ Adieu. 



^ The inlluence of the critics of the middle of the 
hist century over " the town" w;is much more potent 
than tliat exercised by their successors of the present 
day, who have to address a \vid<'r and more en- 
lightened circle — " the reading piildic." 



u 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 




[A Tragedy in Goldsmith's time. Scene iu tlie ' Fair Penitent.'] 



LETTER XXI. 



THE CHINESE GOES TO SEE A VL.W. 



To the Same. 



The English are as fond of seeing plays acted 
;is tlie Chinese ; but there is a vast difference 
iu the manner of conducting them. We play 
our piece.s in the open air, the English theirs 
imder cover ; we act by daylight, they by 
the blaze of torches. One of our ])laYS con- 
tinues eight or ten days successively ; ' an 
English piece seldom takes up above four 
hours in the representation. 

My companion in black, with whom I am 
now begimiing to contract an intimacy, in- 
troduced me a few nights ago to tlie play- 
house, where we placed ourselves conveni- 
ently at the foot of the stage. As the curtain 
was not drawn before my arrival, I had an 
opportunity of observing the behaviour of the 
spectatj)rs, and indulging those reflections 
which novelty generally inspires. 

The richest in general were placed in tlie 

1 The drama is countenanced in China by the 
emperor: and, on the occurrence of certain festivals, 
Mr. Davis says, " Temporary theatres, constructed 
with surprising facility, of bamboos and mats, are 
erected in front of the temples, or in open spaces 
through the towns; the spectacle being continued 
for several davs together." 



lowest seats, and the poor rose above them in 
degrees proportioned to their poverty. The 
order of precedence seemed here inverted ; 
those who were undermost all the day now 
enjoyed a temporar}' eminence, and became 
masters of the ceremonies. It was they who 
called for the music, indulging every noisy 
freedom, and testifying all the insolence of 
beggary in exaltation. 

They who held the middle region seemed 
not so riotous as those above them, nor yet so 
tame as those below : to judge by their looks, 
many of them seemed strangers there as well 
as myself; they were chiefly employed 
during this period of expectation in eating 
oranges, reading the story of the play, or 
making assignations. 

Those who sat in the lowest rows, which 
are called the pit, seemed to consider tliem- 
selves as judges of the merit of tlie poet and 
the performers ; they were assembled partly 
to be amused, and partly to show their taste ; 
appearing to labour under that restraint 
which an affectation of superior discernment 
generally produces. My companion, how- 



SEEING A PLAY. 



15 



ever, iiifornied me, that not one in a limulred 
of tlieni knew even tlie lirst jiiinciples of 
criticism ; that they assuineil the right of 
being censors because tliere waa none to 
contradict their pretensions; and that every 
man who now called liiin.self a connois- 
seur became such to all intents and ])ur- 
poses. 

Tliosi' who sat in the boxes appeared in the 
most unhappy situation of all. The rest of 
the audience came merely for their own 
amusement ; these rather to furnish out a 
part of tlie entertainment themselves. I 
could not avoid considering them as acting 
parts in duml)-6how ; not a curtsey or nod 
tliat wiis not the result of art; not a look or 
a smile that was not designed for murder. 
Cientlemen and ladies ogled each other 
tlirough spectacles — for my companion ol)- 
ser^'ed, that blinduess was of late become 
fashionable; all affected indiflerence and 
ease, while their heurts at tlie same time 
bunied for conquest. ^Ujion the whole, the 
lights, the music, the la<lies in their gayest 
dresses, tJie men with cheerfulness and ex- 
pectation in their looks, all consjnred to 
make a most agreeable picture, and to fill a 
heart that sympathises at human happiness 
with an inexpressible serenity. 

The expecteil time for the play to begin at 
last arrived ; die curtain w;is drawn, and tlie 
actors came on. A woman who personateil 
a queen came in curtseying to tlie audience, 
who clajijied their hands upon her appear- 
ance. Clajiping of hands is, it seems, the 
manner of applauding in England : the man- 
ner is absurd, but every country, you know, 
has its pecidiar absurdities. I was equally 
suqiriseti, however, at Uie submission of the 
actress, who should have considered herself 
as a queen, as at tlie little discernment of the 
audience, who gave her such marks of ap- 
plause liefore she attempted U> deserve them. 
Preliminaries between her and die audience 
beitig thus adjusted, tlie dialogue wiis sup- 
ported between her ami a most hojieful youth 
who acted the part of her confidant. They 
botli appeared in extreme distress, for it seems 
tlie queen had lost a cliihi some fifteen years 
f)efore, and still kee])s its dear resemblance 
next her heart, while her kind companion 
bore a part in her sorrows. 



Her lamentations grew loud; comfort is 
offered, lint she detests tlie very sound : she 
bids them preach comfort to the winds. 
Upon this her husband comes in, who, seeing 
the queen so much atllicted, can himself 
hardly refrain from tears, or avoid j)artaking 
in the soft distress. After thus grieving 
through three scenes tlie curtain di-opped for 
tlie first act. 

" Truly," said I to my companion, " these 
kings and queens are very much distmbed at 
no very great misfortune : certain I am, were 
people of humbler stations to act in this man- 
ner they would l)e thought divested of com- 
mon sense.*' I had scarcely finislied this 
observation when tlie curtain rose, and the 
king came on in a violent jiassion. His wife 
had, it seems, refused his jirofl'ered tender- 
ness, had spurned his royal embrace; and he 
seemed resolved not to survive her fierce dis- 
dain. After he had thus fretted, and the 
queen had fretted through the second act, the 
curtain was let down once more. 

" Now," says my companion. " you per- 
ceive the king to be a man of spirit; he feels 
at every pore : one of your phlegmatic sons of 
clay would have given the queen her own 
way, and let her come to herself by degrees ; 
but the king is for immediate tenderness, or 
instant death : death and tenderness are lead- 
ing passions of every modern liuskined hero; 
this moment they emiirace, and the next stab, 
mixing daggers and kisses in every jjeriod." 

I was going to second his remarks when 
my attention was engrossed by a new oliject ; 
a man came in balancing a straw upon his 
nose, and the audience were clapping their 
hands in all the raptures of ajijdause. '* To 
what ])urpose," cried I, " does this unmeaning 
figure make his ap])earance? is he a part of 
the plot ;' ' '•Unmeaning, do you call him"?" 
replied my friend in black ; "this is one of the 
most imjiortant characters of the whole ])lay ; 
nothing pleases the jieople more than seeing a 
straw balanced : there is a great deal of mean- 
ing in the straw — there is something suited 
to every ap])reliension in the sight ; and a fel- 
low ])ossessed of talents like these is sure of 
making his fortune." ' 

1 The C'liinese tumliUTs ami perfbrmcrs of feats 
of sleit;lit ol'lianil ri\al wliate\or has been seen of 
this kiud iu Europe. 



in 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



The third act now l)t'g;iii with an actor who 
came to inform iis that he was the vilhiiii of 
tlie phiy. and intencknl to show strange tilings 
hefore all was over. He was joined by an- 
other, who seemed as much disposed for mis- 
chief as he ; their intrigues continued through 
this whole division. " If that be a villain.'" 
said I, " he must be a very stupid one to tell 
his secrets without being asked ; such solilo- 
quies, of late, are never admitted in China." 

The noise of clapping inteiTupted me once 
more ; a child of six years old was learning 
to dance on the stage, which gave the ladies 
and mandarins infinite satisfaction. " I am 
sorry," said I, '' to see the pretty creature so 
early learning so bad a trade ; dancing be- 
ing. I presume, as contemptible here as in 
China."" " Quite the reverse," interrupted my 
companion ; " dancing is a very reputable and 
genteel employment here ; men have a greater 
chance for encouragement from the merit of 
their heels than their heads. One who jumps 
up and flourishes his toes three times before 
lie comes to the ground may have three hun- 
dred a-year ; he who flourishes them four 
times, gets four hundred ; l)ut he who arrives 
at five is inestimable, and may demand what 
salary he thinks projier. The female dancers, 
too, are valued for this sort of jumping and 
crossing ; and it is a cant word among them, 
that she desenes most who shows highest. 
But the ft)urth act is begun, let us be atten- 
tive.'" 

In the fourth act the queen finds her long- 
lost child, now grown up into a youth of 
smart parts and great qualifications ; where- 
fore she wisely considers that the crown will 
fit his head better than that of her husband, 
whom she knows to be a driveller. The king 
discovers her design, and here comes on the 
deej) distress : he loves the queen, and he 
loves the kingdom ; he resolves, therefore, in 
order to possess lioth. that her son must die. 
The queen exclaims at his barbarity, is frantic 
with rage, and at length, overcome with sor- 
row, falls into a fit; upon which the curtain 
drops, and the act is concluded. 

'■ Observe the art of the poet."" cries my 



com])anion. " When tlie queon can say no 
more she falls into a fit. While thus her 
eyes are shut, while she is supported in the 
arms of her abigail, what horrors do we not 
fancy ! We feel it in every nerve : take my 
word for it, that fits are the true aposiopeBis 
of modem tragedy." 

The fifth act liegan, and a busy piece it 
was. Scenes shifting, trumpets sounding, 
mobs hallooing, carpets spreading, guards 
bustling from one door to another ; gods, 
demons, daggers, racks, and ratsbane. But 
whether the king was killed, or the queen was 
drowned, or the son was poisoned, I have 
absolutely forgotten.' 

When the play was over, I could not avoid 
observing that the persons of the drama ap- 
peared in as much distress in the first act as 
the last. " How is it possible," said I, " to 
sympathise with them through five long acts? 
Pity is but a short-lived passion. I hate to 
hear an actor mouthing trifles ; neither start- 
ings. strainings, nor attitudes affect me, un- 
less there be cause : after I have been once 
or twice deceived by those unmeaning alarms, 
my heart sleeps in peace, probably unaffected 
liy the principal distress. There should be 
one great passion aimed at by the actor as 
well as the poet ; all the rest should be subor- 
dinate, and only contribute to make that the 
greater : if the actor, therefore, exclaims upon 
every occasion in the tones of despair, he at- 
tempts to move us too soon ; he anticipates 
the blow — he ceases to atl'ect, though he gains 
our applause." 

I scarcely perceived that the audience were 
almost all departed, wherefore, mixing with 
the crowd, my companion and I got into the 
street ; where, essaying a hundred obstacles 
from coach-wheels and palanquin-poles, like 
birds in their flight through the branches of a 
forest, after various turnings, we both at length 
got home in safety. Adieu. 



' The play above described by the Chinese phi- 
losoplier may probalily, from his account of the plot, 
have been intended for the tragedy of ' Douglas,' 
which was act«d for the first time in London in 1757. 



THE rilll.OSOPHER's SON IN SLAVERY, 



17 




[Chinese Camel Driver. The camel is that used in China— the Bactriau camel.] 



LETTER XXIL 

THE CHINESE PHILOSOPHER'S SON M.\DE A SLAVE IN PEIISI.\. 

To the Same. 



The letter which came by the way of Smyrna, 
ami which you sent me uiiojieiied, was from 
my son. As I have permitted you to take 
<-opie8 of all those I sent to China, you might 
have made no ceremony in o])ening those di- 
rected to me. Eitlier in joy or sorrow, 
iny friend should participate in my feelings. 
It would give jjleasure to see a good man 
pleased at my success — it would give al- 
most equal pleasure to see him sympathise at 
my disappointment. 

Every account I receive from the East 
seems to come loaded with some new alllic- 
tioii. My wife and (huigliter were taken from 
me, and yet 1 sustained the loss with intre- 
pidity ; my sun is made a slave among the 
harharians, whicii w;is the oidy Mow tliat 
rxjuld have reaclieil my heart, ^'cs, I will 
indulge the transjjorta of nature for a little, 
in onler to show I can overcome them in the 
end ! True maguanimitv consists not in 



never falling, but in rising every time we 
fall. 

When our mighty ern])eror had published 
his displeasure at my departure, and seized 
upon all that was mine, my son was pri- 
vately secreted from his resentment. Lender 
the protection and guardianship of Fum 
Hoam, the best and the wisest of all the in- 
habitants of China, he was for some time 
instructed in the learning of the missicinaries. 
and the wisdom of the East. But hearing of 
my adventures, and incited by filial ])ity. he 
was resolved to follow my fortunes, and share 
my distress. 

He passed the confines of China in dis- 
guise, hired himself iis a camel-driver to a 
caravan that was crossing the deserts of Thi- 
bet, and was within one day's journey of the 
river Laur, which divides that country 
from India, when a body of wandering Tar- 
tars, filling unex])ectedly ii]ioii tlie caravan. 



48 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



plundered it, und made those who escaped 
tJieir first fury slaves. By those he was led 
into tlie extensive and desolate regions that 
border on the shores of the Aral lake. 

Here he lived by hunting, and was oljliged 
to supply every day a certain proportion of 
the s])oil to regale his savage masters. His 
learning, his virtues, and even his beauty, 
were qualifications that no way served to 
recomnieud him; they knew no merit but 
that of providing large quantities of milk 
and raw flesh, and were sensible of no hap- 
piness but that of rioting on the undressed 
meal. 

Some merchants from Mesched, however, 
coming to trade with tlie Tartars for slaves, 
he was sold among the number, and led into 
the kingdom of Persia, where lie is now de- 
tained. He is there obliged to watch tlie 
looks of a voluptuous and cruel master — 
a man fond of pleasure yet incapable of re- 
tinement, whom many years' service in war 
has taught pride but not bravery. 

That treasure which I still keep within my 
bosom — my child, my all that was left to me, 
is now a slave.' Good heavens, why was this? 
Why have I been introduced into this mortal 
apartment to be a spectator of my own misfor- 
tunes, and the misfortunes of my fellow-crea- 
tures i Wherever I turn, what a labjTinth of 
doubt, error, and disajipointment appeifrs ! 
VV'hy was I brought into being — for what pur- 
poses made — from whence have I come — whi- 
ther strayed — or to what regions am I hasten- 
ing? Reason cannot resolve. It lends a ray 
to show the horrors of my prison, but not a light 
to guide me to escape them. Ye boasted reve- 



lations of the earth, liow little do you aid the 
inquiry ! 

How am I surprised at the inconsistency of 
the magi ! their two principles of good and 
evil alfright me. The Indian who liathes^his 
vis:ige in urine, and calls if piety, strikes me 
with astonishment. The Christian who be- 
lieves in three gods is highly absurd. The 
Jews who pretend that deity is pleased with 
the efl'usion of blood, are not less displeasing. 
I am equally surprised that rational beings 
can come from the extremities of the earth in 
order to kiss a stone,'^ or scatter pebbles. How 
conti-ary to reason are those ! and yet all pre- 
tend to teach me to be happy. 

Surely all men are blind and ignorant of 
truth ! Mankind wanders, unknowing his 
way, from morning till evening. Where 
shall we turn after happiness ; or is it wisest 
to desist from the pursuit? Like reptiles in 
a corner of some stupendous palace, we peep 
from our holes, look about us, wonder at all 
we see, liut are ignorant of the great Archi- 
tect's design. O, for a revelation of him- 
self — for a plan of his universal system ! O, 
for the reasons of our creation ; or why were 
we created to be thus unhappy ! If we are 
to experience no other felicity but what this 
life artbrds, then are we miserable indeed : if 
we are lioni only to look about us, repine, 
and die, then has Heaven been guilty of in- 
justice. If this life terminates my existence, 
I despise the blessings of Providence, and the 
wisdom of the Giver: if this life be my all, 
let the following epitaph be written on the 
tomb of Altangi — " By my father's crimes I 
received this ; by my ovni crimes I bequeath 
it to posterity ! "' 



LETTER XXIII. 

THE ENGLISH SUBSCRIPTION IN FAVOUR OF THE FRENCH PRISONERS COMMENDED. 

To the Same. 



Yet, while I sometimes lament the cause of 
humanity, and tlie depravity of human na- 
ture, there now and tlien appear gleams of 
greatness that serve to relieve the eye op- 
pressed with the hideous prospects, and re- 
semble those cultivated spots that are some- 

' This whole apostro|)lie seems most literally trans- 
lated from Ambulaaohamed, the Arabiau poet. (^A.) 



times found in the midst of an Asiatic wilder- 
ness. I see many superior excellencies among 

"^ The most important ceremony performed by the 
piltTims at Mecca eonsists in going seven times round 
the Kaaba, kissing each time the sacred stone. This 
stone, which is proliably of meteoric origin, is said 
to ha\ e been brought from heaven by the angel Ga 
briel, and is now set in the wall of the Kaaba. 



SUBSCRIPTION FOR FRENCH PRISONERS. 



49 



the Enclisli. wliich it is not in the ])()wor of all 
thi'ir follii's to hide: I see virtiios, whicli, in 
other countries are known only to a lew, 
practised here by every rank ot" peojjle. 

I know not whether it proceeds from their 
sujierior o])nlence that the Kni^lish are more 
charitahle than the rest of mankind — wliether 
l)v t>ein;^ i)ossessod of all the conveniences of 
life themselves, fliey liave more leisure to 
j)erceive the uneasy situation of tlie distressed; 
whatever he the motive, they are not only the 
most charitable of any other nation, but most 
judicious in distinguisiiing the properest ob- 
jects of compassion. 

In other coimtries the giver is generally 
influenced by the immediate impulse of 
pity; his generosity is exerted as much to 
relieve his own uneasy sensation, ;is to com- 
fort the object in distress. In England bene- 
factions are of a more general nature. Some 
men of fortune and universal benevolence 
propose the proper objects; the wants and the 
merits of the {)etitioners are canv;issed by the 
people ; neither passion nor ])ity find a place 
in tiie cool discussion ; and charity is then 
only exerted when it has received the appro- 
bation of reason. 

A late instance of this finely directed bene- 
volence forces itself so strongly on my ima- 
gination, that it in a maimer reconciles me to 
pleasure, and once more makes me tlie univer- 
sal friend of man. The Knglisli and French 
have not only political reasons to inihice 
them to mutual hatred, but often tlie more 
prevailing motive of private interest to widen 
the breach. A war between other countries 
is carried on collectively • army figlits against 
army, and a man's own private resentment is 
lost in that of the community ; but in Eng- 
land and France the individuals of each 
country |)lun<i«r each other at sea without re- 
dress, and consefju'-ntly feel that animosity 
against eacli otlier which passengers do at a 
robber. Tlu'y liave for some time carrieil on 
an exi)en3ive war, and several caj)tives have 
been taken on both sides : those made pri- 
soners by the French have been used with 
cruelty, and guarded with unnecessary cau- 
tion; tliose taken l>y the Kiii,'li.sli, lieing mucli 
more numerous, were confined In tiu; ordinary 
manner ; and, not l)eing released liy tlieir 
countrymen, began to feel all those inc( u- 



veniences which arise from want of covering 
and long confinement. 

Their countrymen were informed of their 
deplorable situation; but they, more intent 
on annoying their enemies than relieving 
their friends, refused tlie least assistance. The 
English now saw thousands of their fellow- 
creatures starving in every prison, forsaken by 
those whose duty it was to ]ii()tect them, la- 
bouring with disease, and witliout clothes to 
keep olV the severity of the season. Na- 
tional benevolence prevailed over national 
animosity — their prisoners were indeed ene- 
mies, but they were enemies in distress; they 
ceased to lie hateful when tlipy no longer con- 
tinueil to be formidable: forgetting, tliere- 
foie, their national hatred, the men wlio were 
brave enough to conquer were generous 
enough to forgive ; and they, whom all the 
world seem to have disclaimed, at last found 
pity and redress from those they attempted to 
suljdue. A subscription was opened, ample 
charities collected, jiroper necessaries pro- 
cured, and the poor gay sons of a merry na- 
tion were once more taught to resume their 
former gaiety.' 

When I cast my eye over the list of those 
who contributed on tiiis occasion, I find the 
names almost entirely English; scarcely one 
foreigner appears among the number. It was 
for Englislimen alone to be cajjable of such 
exalted virtue. I own I cannot look over 
tliis catalogue of good men and philosophers 
without tliinkiiig better of myself, because it 
makes me entertain a more favouralile opi- 
nion of mankind. I am particularly struck 
with one who writes these words upon the 
jiaper that enclosed his benefaction : — "• Tlie 
mite of an Englishman, a Citizen of the 
World, to Frenchmen, jirisoners of war, and 
naked." I only wish that he may find as 
much jileasure from liis virtues as I have 
done in rellectiiig ujion tlieni ; that alone will 
amply reward him. Sucli an one, my friend, 
is an honour to human nature — he makes no 
))rivate distinctions of jiarty — all tliat arc 
stamped with the divine image of their Crea- 

> There liave Ijceu several similar instances of na- 
tional l)oni'VoU'nce ; ami yet, iicrliaps. none were 
niDir nirritorioiis tliaii tlu' om- ulliulcd to, ius na- 
tional {irujiiilii^es were then ranch stronger, and they 
Were also exeited by the war. 

£ 



50 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



lor are friends (o him — lie is a native (if tlic 
worlit ; an<l the Knijieror of ("liiiia niaj- lie 
proud that he lias such a countrynian. 

To rejoice at the destruction of our ene- 
mies is a ioilile grafted upon human nature, 
and we must lie jierniitted to indulge it: the 
true way of atoning for such an ill-founded 
pleasure is thus to turn our triumph into an 
act of benevolence, and to testify our own joy 
by endeavouring to banish anxiety from 
others. 

Hanti, the best and wisest emperor that 
ever tilled the throne, after having gained 
three signal victories over the Tartars who 
had invaded his dominions, returned to 
Nankin, in order to enjoy the glory of his 
conquest. After he had rested for some days, 
the people, who are naturally fond ol" pro- 
cessions, impatiently expected the triumphant 
entry which emperors upon such occasions 
were accustometl to make : their murmurs 
came to the emperor's ear : he loved his peo- 
ple, and was willing to do all in his power to 
satisfy their just desires; he therefore assured 
them that he intended, upon the next Feast 
of the Lanterns, to exhibit one of the most 
glorious triumplis that had ever been seen in 
China. 1 

' Mr. Davis says the Chinese lanterns arc made of 
Eilk, varnish, horn, paper, and glass; and often ex- 



The people were in rajitures at his conde- 
scension, and on the ap)iointe(l day assembled 
at the gates of the palace with the most eager 
expectations. Here they waited for some 
time without seeing any of those ])reparations 
which usually jireceded a pageant. The 
lantern with ten thousand tapers was not yet 
brought forth ; the fire-works, whicli usually 
covered the city walls, were not yet lighted : 
the jieople once more began to munnur at 
this delay, when, in the midst of their impa- 
tience, the palace-gates flew open, and the 
emperor himself appeared, not in splendour 
or magnificence, but in an ordinary habit, 
followed by the blind, the maim'ed, and the 
strangers of the city, all in new clothes, and 
each carrying in his hand money enough to 
supply his necessities for the year. The peo- 
j)le were at first amazed, but soon perceived 
the wisdom of their king; who taught them, 
that to make one man happy was more truly 
great than having ten thousand captives 
groaning at the wheels of his chariot. 

liibit figures of men ^'allopini; on horseback, and 
pevformint; various feats ; or l)easts, birds, and other 
living creatures ; the whole of which are put in mo- 
tion by being attached to a liorizoutal wheel, whicli 
is turned t)y the draught of air. By fine threads 
attached to different figures they are made to move 
in opposite or various directions. Tliere is a festival 
called the ' Feast of Lanterns,' which talves place 
on the first full-moon of the new vear. 




[Cldnese Lanterns, of the most usual forms. From Chinese Drawings.] 



QUACK MEDICINES RIDICILED. 



51 



LETTER XXIV 



TIIH VENDERS OF QIACK MEDICINES AND NOSTRIMS IIIDICLI.ED. 



From the Same. 



Whatever may be the merits of the English 
ill other sciences, tiiey seem jwculiurly excel- 
lent in the art of liealing ; there is scarcely a 
disorder incident to humanitj- against which 
they are not possessed with a most iiilallible 
antidote. The jjrofessors of other arts con- 
fess the inevitahle intricacy of tilings, talk 
with doulit. and decide with hesitation : but 
doubting is entirely unknown in medicine; 
the advertising prol'essors here delight in cases 
of ditliculty ; be the disorder never so despe- 
rate or radical, you will iind numl)ers in 
every street who, by levelling a jiill at the 
part afl'ected, promise a certain cure, without 
loss of time, knowledge of a bed-fellow, or 
hindrance of business. 

When I consider the assiduitj' of this jiro- 
fessioii, tlieir benevolence amazes me : they 
not only in general give their medicines for 
half-value, Ijut use the most persuasive re- 
monstrances to induce the sick to come and 
be cured. Sure there must be something 
strangely obstinate in an English patient who 
refuses so much health upon such e;Lsy terms. 
Does he take a pride in being bloate(l with a 
dropsy ? — does he find pleasure in the alter- 
nations of an intermittent fever? — or feel as 
much satisfaction in nursing up his gout as 
he found ])leasure in acquiring it ? He must : 
otherwise he would never reject such repeated 
assurances of instant relief. What can be 
more convincing than the manner in which 
the sick are invited to be well ? The doctor 
first Ijegs the most earnest attention of the 
public to what he is going to jirojiose; he 
soleinidy afhrms the ))ill was never found to 
want success; he produces a list of those who 
Lave been rescued from the grave by taking 
it. Vet, notwitluitanding all this, there are 
many here who now ami then think projier 
to be sick. Only sick, did I say? — There 
are some who even think proper to iliel — \'es, 
by the head of Confucius, they die! tbougli 
tl»ey might have purcliased the ln'alth-restur- 
in({ specitic for lialf-a-crown at every comer. 



I am amazed, my dear Fum Hoam, that 
these doctors, who know wliat an obstinate 
set of ])eople they liave to deal with, liave 
never thought of attempting to revive the 
dead. When the living are found to reject 
their prescriptions, they ought in conscience 
to apply to the deiid, from whom they can 
expect no such mortifying repulses : they 
would (ind in the dead the most com])lying 
patients imaginable; and what gratitude 
might they not expect from the patient's son, 
now no longer an heir, and his wife, now no 
longer a widow ! 

Think not, my friend, that there is any- 
thing chimerical in such an attempt ; they 
already perform cures equally strange. What 
can lie more truly astonishing than to s<^e old 
age restored to youth, and vigour to the most 
feeble constitutions'? Vet this is jierformed 
here every day : a simple electuary efliscts 
these wonders, even without the tiungling 
ceremonies of having the patient boiled up in 
a kettle or ground down in a mill. 

Few physicians here go through the ordi- 
nary courses of education, but receive all 
their knowledge of medicine by immediate 
iiis])irati()ii from heaven. Some are thus in- 
spired even in the woml) ; and, what is very re- 
markable, understand their profession as well 
at three yi-ars old as at threescore. Others 
have spent a great part of their lives uncon- 
scious of any latent excellence, till a baiik- 
rujitcy or a residence in gaol have calh'<l their 
miraculous ))owers into exertion. And others 
still there are iiidelited to tlieir superlative 
ignorance alone for success: the more igno- 
rant the yiractitioner, the less capable is he 
thought of deceiving. The people here judge 
as they do in the East, where it is thought 
alisolutely requisite tliat a man should be an 
idiot before he pretends to be either a con- 
juror or a doctor. 

When a physician by ins)iiration is sent 
for, he never ]/erplexes the patient liy previous 
examination; he asks very few questions, and 

e 2 



52 



CITIZEN OF THE WOKLD. 



those only for form sake. He knows every 
disorder t)y intuition ; lie administers tlie {)ill 
or drop for every distemper ; nor is more in- 
quisitive than tlie farrier while he drenches a 
horse. If the patient lives, then has he one 



more to add to tlie suvvi\ liif; list; if lie dies, 
then it may lie justly said of the ])atieiit"s 
disorder that, " as it was not cured, the dis- 
order was incurahle."' 



LETTER XXV 



THE NATrR.\L ItlSE .\ND DECLINE OF KINGDOMS, EXEMTLIFIED IN THE IIISTORV 

OF THE KINGDOM OF LAO. 

From the Same. 



I WAS, some daj'S ago, in company with a 
politician, who very pathetically declaimed 
upon the miserable situation of his country. 
He assured me that the Mhcle political ma- 
chine was moving in a wrong track, and that 
scarcely even abilities like his own could ever 
^et it right again. " What have we," said 
he, " to do with the wars on the Continent ? — 
we are a commercial nation — we have only 
to cultivate commerce like our neighbours 
the Dutch — it is our business to increase 
trade by settling new colonies — riches are the 
strength of a nation ; and, for the rest, our 
ships, our ships alone, will protect us." I 
found it vain to ojipose my iVeble arguments 
to those of a man who thought himself wise 
enough to direct even the ministry. I fancied, 
however, that 1 saw with more certainty, be- 
cause I reasoned without prejudice: I there- 
fore begged leave, instead of argument, to re- 
late a short history. He gave me a smile at 
once of condescension and contempt, and I 
proceeded as follows to describe the rise and 
declension of the kingdom of Lao : — 

" Northward of Cliina, and in one of the 
doublings of the great wall, the Iruitful pro- 
vince of Lao enjoyed its liberty, and a pecu- 
liar govcniment of its own. As the inhaljit- 
ants were on all sides surrounded by flie wall 
they feared no sudden invasion from the Tar- 
tars ; and, being each possessed of property, 
they were zealous in its defence. 

'• The natural consequences of security and 
affluence in any country is a love of pleasure : 
when the wants of nature are supplied, we 
seek after the conveniences; when possessed 
of these, we desire the luxuries of life; and 
when every luxury is jirovided, it is then 



ambition takes up the man, and leaves him 
still something to wish for: the inhabitants 
of the country, from primitive simplicity, 
soon began to aim at elegance, and from ele- 
gance ])roceeded to relinement. It was now 
found absolutely requisite, for the good of the 
state, that the people .-should be divided. 
Fomierly the same hand that was employed 
in tilling the ground, or in dressing up the 
manufactures, was also in time of need a sol- 
dier ; but the custom was now changed — lor 
it was perceived that a man bred up from 
childhood to the arts of either peace or war 
became more eminent by these means in his 
respective profession. The inhabitants were, 
therefore, now distinguished into artisans and 
soldiers; and while those improved the luxu- 
ries of life, these watched for the security of 
the jjeople. 

"A country possessed of freedom has always 
two sorts of enemies to fear — foreign foes, wlio 
attack its existence from without; and in- 
ternal miscreants, who betray its liberties 
within. The inhabitants of Lao were to 
guard against both. A country of artisans 
were most likely to ])reserve internal liberty, 
and a nation of soldiers were fittest to repel a 
foreign invasion. Hence naturally rose a 



1 Tlie medical ait in China is in much the same 
coniiiiion that it was in En^'land when it was closely 
connected with astrol<)f.'\'. Tlie Chinese do not hold 
their doctors in much esteem; and the latter, when 
they liiid that the patient is nut rei-ovcriiis;, retire, 
with the observation that " There is medicine for 
sickness, but none for fate." Some of the practices 
of a Chinese doctor lesemlile those of our medical 
quacks ; they extol their skill in reference to tlic same 
sort of diseases, and also make use of hand-bills to 
publish the cures they have ettected. 



RISE AXn DECLINE OF KINGDOMS EXEMPLIFIED. 



53 



division of opinion between the artisans and 
soldiers of tlie kitisjdoni. The artisans, ever 
cuni|ilainin^ that frcodoni was thrcatent'd by 
an armed internal force, were far disbandin;^ 
the soldiers ; and insisted that their walls, 
their walls alone, were sullicicnt to repel the 
most forniidal)le invasion : the warriors, on 
the contrary, represented the power of the 
neighI)ouring kings, the coniliinations formed 
against their state, and the weakness of the 
wall, which every eartlujiiake might over- 
tnrn. While this alteication continued, the 
kingdom might be justly said to enjoy its 
greatest share of vigour: every order in the 
8t;ite, by being watchful over each other, con- 
tributed to dilVuse hx])i)iness equally, and 
l>alance the state. Tlie arts of ])eace flou- 
rished, nor were those of war neglected ; the 
neighbouring j)owers, who had nothing to 
a))prehend from the ambition of men whom 
they only saw solicitous not for riches but 
free<lom, were contented to tratKc with them ; 
they sent their goods to be manufactured in 
Lao, and paid a k r^e price for them upon 
their return. 

'■ l{y tliese means this^"people at length be- 
came moderately ricli, and their opulence 
naturally invited the inva<ler: aTartar prince 
led an immense army against them, and they 
as bravely stood up in their own defence; 
they were still insjiired with a love of their 
country — they fought the barbarous enemy 
with fortitude, and gained a complete vic- 
tory. 

" From this moment, which they regarded 
as the comjiletion of their glory, historians 
date their downfall. Tliey had risen in 
strength i)y a love of their country, and fell 
by indulging ambition. The country pos- 
wssed by the inva<ling Tartars seemed to them 
a i)ri/e tl)at would not only render them more 
formidable for the future, but wliich would 
incre;ise their opulence for the jiresent; it was 
unanimously resolved, therefore, both by sol- 
diers and artisans, tiiat those desolate regions 
should bi- i)eople(l by colonies from Lao. 
M'hcn a trading nation liegins to act the con- 
queror it is then jierfectly inidone : it sub- 
sists in some measure l)y the supjiort of its 
neighbours — while they continue to regard it 
without envy or a])prehension, (raile may 
flourish ; l)ut when once it presumes to assert 



as its right what is only enjoyed as a favour, 
each country reclaims that ])art of commerce 
whicli it has power to take back, and turns it 
into some other channel more honourable, 
though perhaps less convenient. 

'■ Every neighbour now began to regard 
with jealous eyes this ambitious common- 
wealth, and forbade their subjects any future 
intercourse with them. The inhabitants of 
Lao, however, still jairsued the same and)i- 
tious maxims: it was from their colonies 
alone they expected riclies — and riches, said 
they, are strength, and strength is security. 
Numberless were the migrations of the despe- 
rate and enterprising of this country to people 
the desolate dominions lately possessed by 
the Tartar. Between tliese colonies and the 
mother-country a very advantageous traffic 
was at lirst carried on : the repul)lic sent their 
colonies large quantities of the manufactures 
of the country ; and they, in return, provided 
the republic with an equivalent in ivory and 
ginseng. By this means the inlial)itants be- 
came iiumensely rich, and this ])roduced an 
equal degree of voluptuousness ; for men who 
have much money v^-ill always iiiid some 
fantastical modes of enjoyment. How shall 
I mark the steps by which they declined ? 
Every colony, in process of time, spreads over 
the whole country where it lirst Wiis jilanted : 
as it grows more populous, it becomes more 
polite; and those manuiactures for which it 
was in the beginning obliged to others, it 
learns to dress up itself. Sucli was the case 
with tlie colonies of Lao ; they, in less than a 
century, became a powerful and a polite peo- 
])le, and the more polite they grew, tlie less 
advantageous was the connnerce which still 
subsisted between them and others. By this 
means the inother-country, being abridged in 
its commerce, grew poorer, but not less luxu- 
rious. Their former wealth had introduced 
luxur)^ ; and wherever luxury once fixes, no 
art can cillicr lessen or remove it. Tiieir 
commerce with their neiglifiours was totally 
destroyed, and tiiat with their colonies was 
every day naturally and necessarily declin- 
ing; they still, however, ])reserved the inso- 
lence of wealth, without a ]iower to supjiort 
it, and jiersevered in being luxurious while 
conleniiitible from poverty. In short, the 
state resembled one of those bodies bloated 



51 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



with disease wliose bulk is only a symptom 
of its wretchedness. 

'• Their tbnner opulence only rendered them 
more impotent, as those individuals who are 
reduced from riches to ])overty, are of all 
men the most unfortunate and heljjless. Tliey 
had imagined, because their colonies tended 
to make them rich upon the first acquisition, 
they would still continue to do so : they now 
found, however, that on themselves alone 
they should ha^e depended for support ; that 
colonies ever atl'orded but temporary alllu- 
ence, and when cultivated and polite, are no 
longer useful. From such a concurrence of 
circumstances they soon became contempt- 
ible. Tlie emperor Hanti invaded them with 
a powerful army. Historians do not say whe- 
ther their colonies were too remote to lend as- 
sistance, or else were desirous of shaking oft' 



their dependence; but certain it is, they 
scarcely made any resistance : their walls 
were now found but a weak defence, and 
tliey at length were obliged to acknowledge 
sul)jection to tlie empire of China. 

" Happy, very happy, might they have been, 
had they known when to bound their riches 
and their glory : had they known that extend- 
ing empire is often diminishing power — that 
countries are ever strongest which are inter- 
nally powerful — that colonies, l)y draining 
away the Ijrave and enterprising, leave tlie 
country in the hands of the timid and tlie 
avaricious — that walls give little protection, 
unless manned with resolution — that too 
much commerce may injure a nation as well 
as too little — and that there is a wide dif- 
ference between a conquering and a flourish- 
ing empire."' Adieu. 



LETTER XXA7. 



THE CHARACTER OF THE MAN IN BLACK, WITH SOME INSTANCES OF HIS INCONSISTENT CONDUCT.' 

From the Same. 



Though fond of many acquaintances, I de- 
sire an intimacy only with a few. The man 
in black, whom I have often mentioned, is 
one whose friendship I could wish to acquire, 
because he possesses my esteem. His manners, 
it is true, are tinctured with some strange in- 
consistencies, and he may justly be termed a 

' This letter describes some of the writer's pecu- 
liarities. Mr. Prior, in his ' Life of Goldsmith,' says 
that " inattention to worldly matters, a certain ec- 
centricity of character, and inability to get forward 
in life, seem to have characterised the Goldsmith 
race;" and the iinrellectinj,' charity often displayed 
by the subject of his memoir, by wliich he often in- 
jured himself, and became the dupe of designing and 
unprincipled persons, showed that tlie family pecu- 
liarities were strongly developed in him. The follow- 
ing is a curious instance of the feeling to which allu- 
sion is made in this letter : — While at Trinity Col- 
lege, Dublin, a friend, calling at his rooms one 
morning, could not gain admittance, but was hailed 
from within by Goldsmith, who was literally in bed, 
having ripped pait of the ticking and inserted him- 
self in the feathers. The ibllowing was liis account 
of this strange scene : — " While strolling in the sub- 
urbs, the preceding evening, he met a poor woman 
with five children, who told a pitiful story of her 
husbsmd being in the hospital, and herself and off- 



humorist in a nation of humorists. Though 
he is generous even to profusion, he affects to 
lie thought a prodigy of parsimony and pru- 
dence ; though his conversation be replete 
with the most sordid and selfish maxims, his 
heart is dilated with the most unbounded 
love. I have known him profess himself a 
man-hater, while his cheek was glowing with 
compassion ; and, while his looks were soft- 
ened into pity, I have heard him use the 
language of the most unbounded ill-nature. 
Some affect humanity and tenderness, others 
boast of having such dispositions from na- 
ture ; but he is the only man I ever knew 
who seemed ashamed of his natural benevo- 
lence. He takes as much pains to hide his 

spring destitute of food and of a place of shelter for 
tlie night. Having no money he brought her to the 
college gate, sent out his lilankets to cover the 
wretched gi-oup, and part of his clothes, in order to 
sell for their present subsistence ; and, finding him- 
self cold during the night from want of the usual 
covering, had hit upon the expedient just related 
for supplying the place of his blankets." — Prior's 
Life, i., p. 95. 



THK MAX IN BLACK. 



55 



feolinars as any hvpoeritp would to conceal 
ills iiulilTereiice, liiit on every nn|j;iianle(l mo- 
ment the mask drojis otY and reveals liim to 
the most supcrlicial observer. 

In one of our late excursions into the coun- 
try. lKi|)iM'niiig to discourse ujion tlie jirovi- 
siou tliat w;ls made lor the jioor in Kngland, 
he seemed amazed how any of his country- 
men could he so foolishly weak as to relieve 
occasional objects of charitj', when the laws 
had made such ample provision for their 
support. " In every parish-house," says he, 
'' the poor are su])plied with food, clothes, 
lire, and a bed to lie on ; they want no more 
— I desire no more myself; yet still they 
seem discontented. I am suq)rised at the in- 
activity of our magistrates, in not taking up 
such vagrants, who are only a weiglit u])on 
the industrious : I am surprised that the 
people are found to relieve them, when they 
must be at the same time sensible, that it in 
some measure encourages idleness, extrava- 
gance, and im])osture. Were I to advise 
any man for whom I liad the le;ist regard, I 
would cjution him by all means not to be 
imposed upon by their false pretences : let 
me assure you, sir, they are impostors, every 
one of them, and rather merit a prison than 
relief." 

He was proceeding in this strain, earnestly, 
to dissuade me from an impnidence of which 
I am seMom guilty, wlien an old man, who 
Still had al)out him the remnants of tattered 
finery, implored our compassion. He as- 
sured us that he was no common beggar, but 
forced into tlie shameful profession to sup- 
port a dying wife and five hungry chihlren. 
Being prepossessed against such falsehoods, 
his story liad not the least influence upon me; 
liuf if was quite otherwise with the man in 
black : I coidd see it visibly operate upon 
his countenance, and elVectually interrujit 
his harangue. I could easily jjerceive that 
his heart liunied to relieve tiie five star\ing 
children, but he seemed ash.amed to dis- 
cover his weakness to me. While he tlius 
hesitated between comj)assion and jiride, 
I pretended to look another way, and he 
seizeil this opportunity of giving the poor peti- 
tioner a piece of silver, bidding him at the 
same time, in order that I should hear, go 
work for his bread, an<l not texse passengers 



with such impertinent falsehoods for the 
future. 

As he had fancied himself quite unper- 
ceived, he continued, as we proceeded, to rail 
against beggars with as much animosity as 
before : he threw in some episodes on his own 
amazing ))niilence and economy, with his 
])r()found skill in discovering im])ostors; he 
exjilained the manner in which he would 
deal with beggars, were he a magistrate ; 
hinted at enlarging some of the prisons for 
their recej)tion, and told two stories of ladies 
that were robbed by beggarmen. He was be- 
ginning a third to the same purpose, when a 
sailor with a wooden leg once more crossed 
our walks, desiring our pity, and blessing 
our limbs. I was for going on without 
taking any notice, but my friend, looking 
wistfully upon the poor petitioner, bid me 
stop, and he would show me witli how much 
ease he could at any time detect an im- 
postor. 

He now, therefore, assumed a look of im- 
jiortance, and in an angry tone l)egan to ex- 
amine the sailor, demanding in what engage- 
ment he was thus disabled and rendered unfit 
for service. The sailor replied in a tone as 
angrily as he, that he had been an officer on 
board a private ship of war, and that he had 
lost his leg al)road, in defence of those who 
did nothing at liome. At this reply all my 
friends importance vanished in a moment — 
he had not a single question more to ask; he 
now only studied what method he should 
take to relieve him unobserved. He had, 
however, no easy part to act, as he was obliged 
to preserve the a])]W'arance of ill-nature be- 
fore me, and yet relieve himself by relieving 
the sailor. Casting, therefore, a furious look 
u])on some bundles of chips which the fellow 
carried in a string at his back, my friend de- 
manded how he sold his matches; but, not 
waiting for a reply, desired in a surly tone to 
have a shilling's wortli. The sailor seemed 
at first surprised at liis demand, but soon re- 
collected himself, and jiresenting his whole 
liundle, " Here, master,"" says lie, " take; all 
my cargo, and a blessing into the bargain."' 

It is im])ossible to describe with what an 
air of trium))h my friend marciied ofl" with 
his new jjurchase : he assured me, that he 
was firmly of opinion that those fellows must 



56 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



have stolen their poods, who could thus af- 
ford to sell tliiMu for half value. He informed 
me of several dilVerent uses to wliich those 
chips ini^'lit he ajijilieil : he expatiateil largely 
upon the saving's tliat would result from light- 
ing candles witli a match, instead of thrust- 
ing them into the fire. He averred, that he 
Avould as soon have parted with a tooth as 
his money to those vagabonds, unless for 
some valuable consideration. I cannot tell 
how long this panegyric upon frugality and 
matches might have continued had not his 
attention been called ofl' by another object 
more distressful than either of the former. A 
■woman in rags, with one child in her ai-ms, 
and another on her back, was attempting to 
sing ballads, but with such a mournful voice, 
that it was difficult to determine w hether she 
was singing or crying. A wretch, who in 



the deei)cst distress Still aimed at good-hu- 
moiir, was an object my friend was by no 
means capable of withstanding ; his vivacity 
and liis discourse were instantly interru])ted 
— ujion this occasion his very dissimulation 
had forsaken him. Even in my presence he 
immediately applied his hands to his pockets, 
in order to relieve her; but guess his confu- 
sion when he found he had already given 
away all the money he carried about him to 
former objects. The misery painted in the 
woman's visage was not half so sirongly ex- 
pressed as the agony in his. He continued to 
search for some time, but to no purpose; till, 
at length recollecting himself, with a face of 
inell'able good-nature, as he had no money, 
he put into her hands his shilling's worth of 
matches. 



LETTER XXVII. 

THE HISTORV OF THE MAN IN BLACK. 

From the Same. 



As there appeared something reluctantly 
good in the character of my companion, 
I must own it surprised me what could 
be his motives for thus concealing virtues 
which others take such pains to display. I 
was unable to repress my desire of knowing 
the history of a man who thus seemed to act 
under continual restraint, and whose benevo- 
lence was rather the efl'ect of appetite than 
reason. 

It was not, however, till after repeated so- 
licitations he thought proper to gratify my 
curiosity. " If you are fond," says he, " of 
hearing hair-breadth "scapes, my history must 
certainly please ; for I have been for twenty 
years upon the very verge of starving, with- 
out ever being starved.' 

1 Mr. Prior has industriously traced the evidence 
of Goldsmith's practice of drawing upon his own 
personal and family history for many of tlie facts 
and characters found in his writings. " To tliis cir- 
cumstance," Mr. I'lior justly remarlis, " is owing 
much of that truth, vigour, and freshness, of which 
all feel the presence and the power.'' Tlie present 
letter is, for the most part, a sketch of Goldsmith's 
own history and character. 



" My father, the younger son of a good 
family, was possessed of a small living in the 
church. His education was above his for- 
tune, and his generosity greater than his edu- 
cation. Poor as he was, he had his flatterers 
still poorer than himself : for every dinner he 
gave them they returned an equivalent in 
praise; and this was all he wanted. The 
same ambition that actuates a monarch at 
the head of an army influenced my father at 
the head of his table ; he told the story of the 
ivy-tree, and that was laughed at ; he re- 
peated the jest of the two scholars and one 
pair of breeches, and the company laughed 
at lliat ; but the story of Tat^y in the sedan 
chair was sure to set the table in a roar : 
tluis his pleasure increased in projwrtion to 
the jjleasure he gave ; he loved all the world, 
and he fancied all the world loved him. 

'• As his fortune was but small he lived up 
to the very extent of it : he had no intention 
of leaving his children money, for that was 
dross ; he was resolved they should have 
learning, for learning, he used to observe, was 
better than silver or gold. For this purpose. 



Tin: MAX IX ULACK. 



57 



he uiulerfook to insfriict us himself, and took 
;l.s imicli ]):iiiis to lorni our morals as to iin- 
jirove our uiuii'rstandiii;^. Wo wore tolil, 
lliat univers;il lieiievolouce was what lirst ce- 
ineuteJ society; we were taught to consider 
Jill the wants ol'mankiiid ;is our own; to re- 
pard " the human lace divine" with affection 
and esteem ; he wound us up to he mere ma- 
chines of jiity, and rendered us incapahle of 
withstandinj; tlie slij;htest imjuilse, made 
either l>y real or lictitious distress; in a word, 
we were j)erfectly instructed in the art of 
(living away thousands, before we were taught 
tiie more necessary qualilications of getting a 
farthing. 

•• 1 cannot avoid imagining, that thus re- 
fined by his lessons out of all my susjjicion, 
and divested of even all the little cunning 
which nature had given me, I resemhled, 
upon my first entrance into the luisy and in- 
sidious world, one of those gladiators who 
were ex])osed without armour in the amphi- 
theatre at Rome. My father, however, who 
had only seen the world on one side, seemed 
to triumj)h in my superior discernment ; 
though my whole stock of wisdom consisted 
in l>eing aide to talk like himself upon sub- 
jects that once wereusel'ul, liecanse they u^re 
then topics of the busy world, but that now 
were -utterly useless, because connected with 
the busy world no longer. 

*• The first o])portvniity he had of finding 
his expectations dis;ippointed, w:is in the very 
middling figure I made in the university : he 
had flattered liimself that lie should soon see 
me rising into the foremost rank in literary- 
reputation, but was mortified to find me 
utterly unnoticed and unknown. His disap- 

IMiintment might have been ])artly ascriljed to 
lis having overrated my talents, and jiartly 
to my dislike of mathematical reasonings, at 
a time when my imagination and memory, 
yet unsatistietl, were more eager after new 
olijects than desirous of reasoning u])on those 
I knew. This did not, however, please my 
tutor, who observed indeed that I was a little 
dull ; but at the same time allowed that I 
seemed to be very gooil-natured, and had no 
harm in me. 

" After I had resided at college seven years, 
my fallier died, and left me — his l)lessing. 
Thus shoved froui sliore, without ill-nature 



to protect, or cunning to guide, or projier 
stores to sulisist Tiie in sod angerous a vovage, 
I was oliliged to embark in the wide world at 
twenty-two. Ibit, in order to settle in life, 
my friends advised ( for they always advise 
when they begin to despise us) — thej' advised 
me, I say, to go into orders. 

" To lie oliliged to wear a lojig wig when 
I likeil a short one. or a lilack coat wiien I 
generally dressed in lirown, I thought was 
such a restraint ujion my lil)erty that I abso- 
lutely rejected the projiosal. A priest in 
England is not tlie same mortified creature 
with a bon/.e in China : with us, not he that 
f.isfs liest, but eats best, is reckoned the best 
liver ; yet I rejected a life of luxury, indo- 
lence, and ease, from no other consideration 
but the boyish one of dress. So that my 
friends were now jierfectly satisfied I was un- 
done : and yet they thought it a jiity for one 
who had not the least harm in him, and was 
so very good-natured. 

" Poverty naturally I legets dependence, and 
I was admitted as flatterer to a great man. 
At first I was surprised that the situation of a 
flatterer at a great man's table could be 
thought disagreeable : tlieie was no great 
Irouljle in listening attontivc'ly when his lord- 
ship spoke, and laughing when he looked 
round for applause. This even good man- 
ners might have obliged me to perform. I 
found, liowcver, too sion, that his lordship 
was a greater dunce than myself; and from 
that very moment flattery was at an end. I 
now rather aimed at setting him right, than 
at receiving his alisurdities with submission : 
to flatter those we do not know is an easy 
task ; but to flatter our intimate acquaint- 
ances, all wliose foililes are strongly in our 
eye, is drudgery insupportalile. Every time 
I now opened my lijjs in j)raise, mv' false- 
hood went to my conscience: his lordship 
soon jierceived me to be very unfit for ser- 
vice ; I was therefore discharged ; my ])atron 
at the same time being graciously ])leased 
to observe, that he believed I was toleraldy 
good-natured, and had not the least harm 
in ine. 

" Disapjiointed in ambition. I had recourse 
to love. A young lady, who lived with her 
aunt, and was possessed of a ])relty fortune in 
her own disjiosal, had given me, us I fancied, 



58 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



some reason to expect snecess. Tlie symp- 
tiinis l)y which I was s;«iiled were striking. 
She had always lau9;hed with me at her 
awkward acquaintance, and at her aunt 
among the number; she always observed, 
that a man of sense would make a better hus- 
band than a fool, and I as constantly a])plied 
the observation in my own tavour. She con- 
tinually talked, in my company, of friend- 
ship and the i)eauties of the minil. and s])oke 
of Mr. Shrimp my rivals high-heeled shoes 
with detestation. These were circumstances 
which I thought strongly in my favour ; so, 
after resolving and re-resolving, I had courage 
enough to tell her my mind. Miss heard my 
proposal with serenity, seeming at the same 
time to study the figures of her fan. Out at 
last it came. Tliere was but one small ob- 
jection to complete our happiness ; which was 

no more, than that she was married 

three months bef )re to Mr. Shrimp, with high- 
heeled shoes ! By w ay of consolation, how- 
ever, she observed, that, though I was disap- 
pointed in her, my addresses to her aunt would 
probaljly kindle her into sensibility ; as the 
old lady always allowed me to be very good- 
natured, and not to have the least share of 
harm in me. 

"• Yet still I had friends, numerous friends, 
and to them I was resolved to appl)-. O 
friendship ! thou fond soother of the human 
breast, to thee we fly in every calamitj' ; to 
thee the wretched seek for succour ; on thee 
the care-tired son of misery fondly relies ; 
from thy kind assistance the unfortunate 
always hopes for relief, and may be ever sure 
of — disappointment ! My first application 
was to a city scrivener, who had frequently 
offered to lend me money when he knew I did 
not want it. I informed him that now was 
the time to put his friendship to tlie test ; that 
I wanted to borrow a couple of hundreds for 
a certain occasion, and was resolved to take 
it up from him. ' And pray, sir,' cried my 
friend, ' do you want all this money '?' 'In- 
deed I never wanted it more,' returned I. 
' I am sorry for that,' cries the scrivener, ' with 
all my lieart ; for tliey who want money when 
they come to borrow, will always want money 
when they should come to Jiay.' 

" From him I flew with indignation to one 
of the best friends I liad in the world, and 



made the same request. 'Indeed, Mr. Dry- 
bone,' cries my friend, ' I always tliought it 
would come to this. You know, sir, I 
would not advise you but for your own good ; 
but your conduct has hitherto been ridicu- 
lous in the highest degree, and some of your 
acquaintance always thought you a very silly 
fellow. Let me see, you want two Inmdred 
pounds. Do you only want two hundred, 
sir, exactly'.^" 'To confess the truth,' re- 
turned I, ' I shall want three hundred ; but 
then I have another friend, from whom I can 
boiTow the rest.' ' Why then,' replied my 
friend, ' if you would take my advice, (and 
you know I should not presume to advise yovi 
but for your own good.) I would recommend 
it to you to boiTow the whole sum from that 
other friend : and then one note will serve for 
all, j-ou know." 

" Poverty now began to come fast upon 
me ; yet, instead of growing more provident 
or cautious as I grew poor, I became every 
day more indolent and simple. A friend was 
arrested for fiftj' pounds ; I was unable to 
extricate him, except by becoming his bail. 
When at liberty he fled from his creditors, and 
left me to take his place. In prison I ex- 
pected greater satisfaction than I had enjoyed 
at large. I hoped to converse with men in 
this new world, simple and believing like 
myself; lait I found them as cunning and 
as cautious as those in the world I had left 
behind. They spunged up my money whilst 
it lasted, borrowed my coals and never paid 
for them, and cheated me when I played at 
cribbage. All tliis was done because they 
l)elieved me to be very good-natured, and 
knew that I had no harm in me. 

'' Upon my first entrance into this mansion, 
which is to some the abode of despair, I felt 
no sensations difl'erent from those I experienced 
abroad. I was now on one side the door, and 
those who were unconfined were on the other : 
this was all the diflerence between us. At 
first, indeed, I felt some uneasiness in con- 
sidering how I sliould be able to provide tliis 
week for tlie wants of the week ensuing ; but 
after some time, if I found myself sure of eat- 
ing one day, I never troubled my liead how I 
was to be supplied another. I seized every 
precarious meal with the utmost good hu- 
mour ; indulged no rants of spleen at my 



OLD MAIDS AND BACHELORS, 



59 



situation ; never called down heaven and all 
the stars to hehold ine dining upon a hiill- 
jK'nnyworth of radishes ; my very companions 
were tauglit to believe tliat 1 liked sallad bet- 
ter tlian mutton. 1 contented myself with 
thinking tliat all my life I should either eat 
white bread or lirown ; considered that all 
that hapjx^ned was l)est ; laughed when I was 
not in p.iin, took the world as it went, and 
read Tacitus often, for want of more books 
and coniiwmy. 

" How loujf I might have continued in this 
torjjid state of simplicity I cannot tell, had I 
not been roused by seeing an old acquaint- 
ance, whom I knew to Ije a ])rudent lilock- 
head, preferred to a place in the government. 
I now found that I h;ul pursued a wrong track, 
and that the true way of lieing able to relieve 
others was tirst to aim at independence my- 
self; my immediate care, therefore, was to 
leave my j)resent hal)itation, and make an 
entire reformation in my conduct and beha- 
viour. For a free, open, undesigning deport- 
ment, I put on that of closeness, prudence, 
and economy. One of the most heroic ac- 
tions I ever perfonned, and for which I shall 
])raise myself as long as I live, was the re- 
fusing half-a-crown to an old acquaintance 
at the time when he wanted it and I had it 



to spare : for tlijs alone I deserve to be de- 
creed an ovation. 

" I now therefore pursued a covnse of unin- 
terrupted frugality, seldom wanted a dinner, 
and was consequently invited to twenty. I 
soon began to get the character of a saving 
liunks that had money, and insensil)ly grew 
into esteem. Neighliours have asked my ad- 
vice in tlie disposal of their daughters; and 
I have always taken care not to give any. I 
have contracted a friendship with an alder- 
man, only by observing, that if we take a 
farthing from a thousand pounds, it will bea 
tliousand pounds no longer. I have been in- 
vited to a j)awnbroker"s table, by pretending 
to hate gravy ; and am now actually ujjon 
treaty of marriage with a rich widow, for 
only having observed that tlie bread was 
rising. If ever I am asked a question, whe- 
ther I know it or not, instead of answering I 
only smile and look wise. If a charity is pro- 
posed, I go about with the hat, but put no- 
thing in myself. If a wretch solicits mv 
pity, I observe that the world is tilled witii im- 
postors, and take a certain method of not being 
deceived, by never relieving. In short, I now 
find the truest way of finding esteem, even 
from the indigent, is — to give away nothing, 
and thus have much in our power to give." 



LETT K II XXVIII. 



ON THE GKEAT NfMBliR OF OLD MAIDS AND BACHELORS IN LONCON — SOME OF THE CAUSES. 

Frotn the Same. 



Latelv in company with my friend in black, 
whose converscition is now both my amuse- 
ment and instruction, I could not avoid ob- 
serving the great nuniliers of old baclielors 
and maiden ladies with wliich this city seems 
to be overrun. Sure marriage, said I, is not 
sufficiently encouraged, or we should never be- 
hold sucli crowds of Ijattered beaux and de- 
cayed coquets still attempting to drive a 
trade they have been so long unlit for, and 
swarming upon the gaiety of the age. I be- 
hold an old bachelor in tin; most c()nteni])t- 
ible light, as an animal that lives upon tlie 
commoa stock witliuut contributing his share : 



he is a beast of prey, and the laws should 
m.ake use of ;is many stratagems, and as niucli 
force, to drive the reluctant savage into the 
toils, as the Indians when they hunt the rhi- 
noceros. The mob shouhl l)e permitted to 
hallo after him ; boys might play tricks on 
him with imjjunity; every well-bred com- 
pany should laugh at him ; and if, when 
turned of sixty, he ofleretl to make love, his 
mistress might spit in his face, or, what would 
l)e ])eriiai)s a greater ))unishment, shoidd 
fairly grant the favour. 

As for old maids, continued I, they should 
not be treated with so much severity, be- 



GO 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



cauie I suppose none \vo\il(l \>c so if they 
could avoid it. No lady in her senses would 
choose to make asuhordiuate (iu:ure at christ- 
enings and lyings-in, wlien she might be the 
princijial herself; nor curry favour with a 
sister-in-law, when she might command a 
luisband ; nor toil in ](re])aring custards, 
when she miufht lie a-hed and give directions 
liow they ought to he made ; iror stifle all her 
sensations in demure formality, when she 
might with matrimonial freedom shake her 
acquaintance by the hand, and wink at a 
doulile-entendre. No lady could he so very 
silly as to live single, if she could help it. I 
consider an unmarried lady declining into the 
vale of years, as one of those charming coun- 
tries bordering on China, that lies waste for 
want of proper inhabitants. We are not to 
accuse the country, but the ignorance of its 
neighbours, who are insensible of its beauties, 
though at lil)erty to enter and cultivate the 
soil. 

" Indeed, sir," replied my companion, 
" you are very little acquainted with the 
English ladies, to think they are old maids 
against their will. I dare venture to affirm, 
that you can hardly select one of them all 
who has not had frequent oflers of marriage 
which either pride or avarice made her reject. 
Instead of thinking it a disgrace, they take 
every occasion to boast of their former cruelty ; 
a soldier does not exult more when he counts 
over the wounds he has received, than a fe- 
male veteran when she relates the wounds she 
has formerly given : exhaustless when she 
begins a narrative of the former death-dealing 
power of her eyes. She tells of the knight in 
gold lace, who died with a single frown, and 
never rose again till — lie was man-ied to his 
maid; of the "squire, who being cruelly de- 
nied, in a rage flew to tlie window, and lifting 
up the sash, threw himself in an agony — into 
his arm-chair ; of the parson, who, crossed in 
love, resolutely swallowed opium, which ba- 
nished the stings of despised loveliy — making 
him sleep. In sliort, she talks over her for- 
mer losses with pleasure, and, like some 
tradesmen, finds consolation in the many 
bankruptcies she has suffered. 
■■ " For this reason, whenever I see a super- 
annuated beauty still unmarried I tacitly 
accuse her either of pride, avarice, coquetry, 



or afl'ectation. There 's Miss Jenny Tinder- 
box, I once remember her to have had some 
beauty and a moderate fortune. Her elder 
sister happened to marry a man of quality, 
and this seemed as a statute of virginity 
against poor Jane : because there was one 
lucky hit in the familj- slie was resolved not to 
disgrace it by introducing a tradesman. By 
thus rejecting her equals, and neglected or 
despised t)y her superiors, she now acts in the 
capacity of tutoress to her sister's children, 
and undergoes the drudgery of three servants, 
without receiving the wages of one. 

" Miss Squeeze was a pawnbroker's daughter ; 
her father had early taught her that money was 
a very good thing, and left her a moderate for- 
tune at his deatli. She was so perfectly sensible 
of the value of what she had got tliat she was 
resolved never to part with a farthing with- 
out an equality on the part of her suitor : she 
thus refused several ofl'ers made her by people 
who wanted to better themselves, as the saj'- 
ing is ; and grew old and ill-natured, without 
ever considering tliat she should have made 
an abatement in her pretensions from her 
face being pale and marked with the small- 
pox. 

'* Lady Betty Tempest, on the contrar}"-, 
had lieauty, with fortune and family. But, 
fond of conqviest, she passed from triumph to 
triumph : she liad read plays and romances, 
and there had learned that a plain man of 
common sense Avas no better than a fool ; 
such she refused, and sighed only for the gay, 
giddy, inconstant, and thoughtless : after she 
had thus rejected hundreds who liked her, 
and sighed for hundreds who despised her, 
she found herself insensibly deserted : at pre- 
sent she is company only for her aunts and 
cousins, and sometimes makes one in a coun- 
ti-y dance, with only one of the cliairs for a 
partner, casts-oft' round a joint-stool, and sets 
to a corner-cupboard. In a word, she is 
treated with civil contempt from, every quar- 
ter, and placed, like a piece of old-fashioned 
lumber, merely to fill up a corner. 

" But Sophroiiia. the sagacious Sophronia, 
how shall I mention her ? She was taught 
to love Greek and hate the men from her 
very infancy : she has rejected fine gentle- 
men because they were not pedants, and pe- 
dants because they were not fine gentlemen ; 



A CLUB OF AlTIIOnS. 



61 



Ik'i- exquisite sensibility lias taught licr to 
iliscovor every fault in every lover, ami her 
iiitlexililo justice has jueveuted her jwnlouing 
tliem : thus she rejected se\ erul olVcis, till tlie 



wrinkles of age had overtaken her ; and now, 
without one j^ood feature in her face, she 
talks incessantly of the beauties of the mind.'' 
Farewell. 




[IslingtDU, about 17G0.] 



LETTER XXL\. 



DESCRIPTION Of A CLUB OF ALTIIORS. 



From the Same. 



Wkre we to estimate the learning of the 
English by the number of boulcs tliat are 
every day pul)lished among them, ]ierha])s 
no country, not even China itself, could 
equal them in this particular. I have 
reckoned not less than twenty-three new 
books pulilished in one day ; wliich, upon 
computation, makes &39j in one year.' Most 



' In ■ A C'omjilt.-tc Catalogue of Moili-rn I'.Doks 
piihlisticd from tlic l-c;.'imiiii:.' of the contury lo 
I75(i,' from wliiili " all )iam])lilets and otluT frncls 
are exrlmled," then; are 5'-2() new works, wliiili 
i-i an avera;:.- ol' only f't ne« works cacli year. 
When this letter was wiitteii, jieriodii al jxiliiiealions 
hail iK-eoine the medium for e.immunii atiu^' opi- 
nions <m temj>orary sulijeets, which would otherwise 
ha\e I'ounil vent in i)am|'hlets. lletneen the years 
Ifilii and 100(1 there wen- :<u,l)0O sejiarale iiamphlets 
and tracts puhli^hed on the toidcs which eni,'aKeil 
men's minds in that day : and tin; periodical press 
p«Ttorined a ustdu' t;Lsk, il' only in s.-|iaratin'.' such 
turhiU elements from the purer stream of literature. 



of these are not confiiipd to one single science, 
but embrace the whole circle. History, poll- 
tics, jjoetry, mathematics, metaphysics, and 
the j)hilosophy of nature, are all comprised 
in a manital not larger than that in which our 
children art; taught the letters. If, then, we 
suppose the learned of England to read but 
an eighth ]iart of the works which rlaily conie 
from the ])ress — and surely none can pretend 
to le.irning upon less easy terms — at this rate 
every scholar will read a thousanil l)ooks in 
one year. From such a calculation you may 
conjecture what an ania/.ing fund of litera- 
ture a man mast be jwssessed of who thus 
reads three new books every day, not one of 
which but contains all the good things that 
ever wa.s said or written. 

And yet I know not how it ha])])ens, but 
the English are not in reality so learned as 
would seem from this calculation. We meet 



62 



CITIZEN or THE WORLD. 



but few who know all arts and scieucps to 
perfection ; whether it is that the generality 
are incajjahle of such extensive knowledge, 
or that tlie autliors of those books are not 
adequate instnictors. In China the emperor 
himself takes cognizance of all the doctors in 
the kingdom who profess authorship. In 
England every man may be an author that 
can write ; for they have V)y law a liberty not 
only of saying what they please, but of being 
also as dull as they please. 

Yesterday I testified my surprise to the 
man in black, where writers could be found 
in suilicient number to throw oft' the books I 
daily saw crowding from the press.* I at 
first imagined that their learned seminaries 
might take this method of instructing the 
world : but, to obviate this objection, my 
companion assured me that the doctors of 
colleges never wrote, and that some of them 
had actually Ibrgot their reading : " but, if 
you desire."' continued he, " to see a collec- 
tion of authors, I fancy I can introduce you 
this evening to a club, which assembles every 
Saturday at seven, at the sign of ' The 
Broom,' near Islington,* to talk over the bu- 
siness of the last, and the entertainment of 
the week ensuing." I accepted his invita- 
tion; we walked together, and entered the 
house some time betbre the usual hour for 
the company assembling. 

My friend took this opportunity of letting 
me into the characters of the principal mem- 
bers of the club, not even the host excepted, 
who it seems was once an author himself, but 
preferred by a bookseller to this situation as 
a reward for his former services. 

" The first person," said he, "■ of our so- 



' Swift computed the number of authors in his 
time (he died in 1745") at several tliousands : and, in 
No. 145 of the ' Rambler,' published in 1751, it is 
said, " there is not any reason for suspecting that this 
number has decreased." It is not easy to .iscertain 
on what grounds these calculations were made, and 
they appear to be exasrijcrated. About fifty years 
since, Burke estimated the number of readers at only 
80,000. At present there are, every week, above 
400,000 copies of newspapers published in tlie pro- 
vincial towns in England, and, including Loudon, the 
weekly issue of newspapers amounts nearly to one 
million copies. 

2 It was not until 1762 that Goldsmith went to re- 
sit' e at Islington. See note to Letter cxx. 



ciety is Doctor Nonentity, a metaphysician. 
Most people tiiink him a profound scholar ; 
but, as he seldom speaks, I camiot be positive 
in tliat particular; he generally spreads him- 
self before the fire, sucks his pipe, talks little, 
drinks much, and is reckoned very good com- 
pany. I 'm told he writes indexes to per- 
fection ; he makes essays on the origin of evil, 
philosophical inquiries upon any sulyect, and 
draws up an answer to any book upon twenty- 
four hours' warning. You may distinguish 
him from the rest of the company liy liis long 
grey wig and the blue handkerchief round 
his neck. 

" The next to him in merit and esteem is 
Tim Syllabub, a droll creature ; he some- 
times shines as a star of the first magnitude 
among the choice spirits of the age : he is 
reckoned equally excellent at a rebus, a rid- 
dle, a bawdy song, and a hymn lor the Ta- 
bernacle. You will know him by his shabby 
finery, his powdered wig, dirty shirt, and 
broken silk stockings. 

'"After him succeeds Mr. Tibbs. a very use- 
ful hand ; he writes receipts for the bite of a 
mad dog, and throws oft" an Eastern tale to 
perfection ; he understands the business of an 
author as well as any man, for no bookseller 
alive can cheat him. You may distinguish 
him by the peculiar clumsiness of his figure 
and the coarseness of his coat : however, 
though it be coarse (as he frequently tells the 
company), he has paid for it. 

" Lawyer Squint is the politician of the 
society ; he makes speeches for Parliament, 
writes addresses to his fellow-subjects, and 
letters to noble commanders ; he gives the 
history of every new play, and finds ' sea- 
sonable thoughts' upon every occasion.'' My 
companion was proceeding in his description 
when the host came running in, with terror 
on his countenance, to tell us the door was 
beset with bailiffs. " If that be the case 
then," saj'S my companion, " we had as good 
be going ; for I am positive we shall not see 
one of the company this night.'' Wherefore, 
disappointed, we were both obliged to return 
home ; he to enjoy the oddities which com- 
pose his character alone, and I to write as 
usual to my friend the occurrences of the day. 
Adieu. 



A CLUB OF AUTHORS. 



03 



LETTER XXX. 

THE rUOCEEDINGS OF THE CLLB OF Al'TUORS. 
From the Snine. 



Uy my last ail\ iois from Moscow I find the 
car.ivaii has not vft ileparted from China. 
I still continue to write, expecting that you 
may receive a large number of my letters at 
once. In them you mIII find rather a minute 
detail of English jieeuliarities than a general 
picture of tlieir manners or disposition. 
Hap])y it were for mankind if all travellers 
would thus, instead of characterising a ])eople 
in general terms, lead us into a detail of 
those minute circumstances which first in- 
fluenced their o])inion. The genius of a 
country should lx> investigated with akindof 
experimental inquiry ; hy this means we 
should have more precise and just notions of 
foreign nations, and detect travellers them- 
selves when they happen to form wrong con- 
clusions. 

My friend and I repeated our visit to the 
Cluh of Authors, where, upon our entrance, 
we found the members all assembleil, and 
engaged in a loud debate. 

The poet in shaliliy finery, holding a ma- 
nuscript in his hand, was earnestly endea- 
vouring to ])ersuade the company to hear him 
read the liist book of an heroic poem whicli 
he had composed the day before. Rut against 
this all the members very warmly objected. 
They knew no reason why anj' meml)er of 
the club should be indulged witli a ])articu- 
lar hearing, wlien many of them had pub- 
lished wliole volumes which had never lieen 
looked in. They insisted that the law should 
be observed, where reading in company was 
exjiressly noticed. It was in vain that the 
jtoet pleaded the peculiar merit of his piece ; 
lie sfK)ke to an assembly insensible to all his 
remoiLstrances : the book of laws was opened 
and read by the secretary, where it was ex- 
prc-ssly enacted, " That whatsoever poet, 
BiK-ech-maker, critic, or historian, should pre- 
sume to engage the company liy reading his 
own works, he was to lay liown sixpence pre- 
vious to ojK'ning the nianuscrijit. and should 
be charged one shilling an hour while he con- 
tinued reading : the said shilling to be equally 



distributed among the company as a recom- 
pense for their trouble." 

Our jjoet seemed at first to shrink at the 
penalty, hesitating for some time whether he 
should dejjosit the fine or shut up the poem ; 
but looking round, and perceiving two 
strangers in the room, his love of fame out- 
weighed his prudence, and laying down the 
sum by law established, he insisted on his 
prerogative. 

A profound silence ensuing, he began by 
explaining his design. " Gentlemen," says 
he, '• the present piece is not one of your com- 
mon epic ))oems, which come from the press 
like ])a])er kites in summer: there are none of 
your Turnuses or Didos in it; it is an hero- 
ical description of Nature. I oidy beg you '11 
endeavour to make your souls unison with 
mine, and hear with the same enthusiasm 
with which I have written. The poem be- 
gins with the descri])tion of an author's bed- 
chamber ; the picture was sketched in my 
own apartment — for you must know, gentle- 
men, that I am myself the hero." Then, 
putting liiniself into the attitude of an orator, 
witli all the emphasis of voice and action, he 
proceeded : — 

" Where tlie Red Lion flaring o'er the way. 
Invites each jjassing stranger that can pay ; 
A^Tiere t'alvert's butt, and Parson's black cham- 

pasne. 
Regale the drabs and tiloods of Pniry-lanc ; 
Tliere, in a lonely room, from baililTs snug, 
Tile musi' found Scio};j;enstrctc'lrd beneath a rug. 
.\ window ]iatch <1 witli paper lent a lay, 
Tliat dimly show il the state in whiili he lay : 
The saniled floor that f;rits beneath the tread; 
The humid wall witli paltry pictures sjiread; 
The royal ;;anie of ^'oose w;is there in view. 
And the twelve rules the royal martyr (hew ; 
The seasons, fram'd with listin";, found a place; 
.\nil brave I'rince \ViUiam show'd liis lamp-black 

face. 
The morn was cold, he views, with keen desire. 
The rusty urate, unconscious of a tire; 
With beer and milk arrears the frieze was scori-d, 
.\nd five crack'd teacups dresf^'d the chimney 

board : 
A night cap deck'd his lirows instead of bay, 
A cap by ni),'ht— a stocking all the day ! " 



61 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



Witli this last line he seemed so much elated 
that he was uiiahle to proceed." There, gentle- 
men,'' cries he, '" there is a descrijitioii for you ! 
. — Uabehiis's hed-chaniber is hut a fool to it — 

' A cap liy iui,'ht— a stockini; all the day 1 ' 
There is sound and sense, and truth, and na- 
ture, in the trifling compass of ten syllables." 

He was too much employed in self-admira- 
tion to observe the company; who, by nods, 
winks, sln-ugs, and stilled laughter, testified 
every mark of conteni])t. He turned severally 
to each for their opinion, and found all, how- 
ever, ready to applaud. One swore it was 
inimitable ; another said it was damn'd fhie ; 
and a third cried out in a rapture " Caris- 
simo ! " At last, addressing himself to the 
president, " And pray, Mr. Squint," says he, 
" let us have your opinion." " Mine ! " 
answered tlie president, taking the manuscript 
out of the autlior's hand — " May this glass 
suftbcate me. but I tliink it equal to anything 
I have seen : and I tancy," continued he, 
doubling up the poem and forcing it into the 
author's pocket, " that you will get great ho- 
nour when it comes out : so I shall beg leave 
to put it in. We will not intrude upon your 
gootl-nature, in desiring to hear more of it at 
present; ex iiiujtie Hentilem, we are satisfied." 
The author made two or three attempts to 
pull it out a second time, and tlie president 
made as many to prevent him. Thus, though 
with reluctance, he was at last obliged to sit 
down, contented with the commendations for 
which he had ])aid. 

When this tempest of poetry and praise 
was blown over, one of the company changed 
the subject, by wondering how any man 
could be so dull as to write poetry at pre- 
sent, since prose itself would hardly pay. 
" Would you think it, gentlemen,'" continued 
he, '• I have actually written, last week, six- 
teen prayers, twelve bawdy jests, and three 
sermons, all at the rate of sixpence a-piece ; 
and, what is still more extraordinary, the 
bookseller has lost by tlie bargain. Such 
sermons would once have gained me a pre- 
bend's stall ; but now. alas ! we have neither 
piety, taste, nor humour among us. Posi- 
tively, if this season does not turn out better 
than it has begun, unless the ministry com- 
mit some blunders to furnish us with a new 
topic of abuse, I shall resume my old busi- 



ness of working at the press, instead of lind- 
ing it eni])h)yment.'' 

The whole club seemed to join in con- 
demning the season as one of tlie worst that 
had come for some time. A gentleman par- 
ticularly observed, tliat the nobility were 
never known to subscribe worse than at pre- 
sent. " I know not how it happens," said 
he, " thougli I follow them up as close as 
possible, yet I can hardly get a single sub- 
scription in a week. The houses of the great 
are as inaccessible as a frontier gan-ison at 
midnight. I never see a nobleman's door 
hall' opened, that some surly porter or foot- 
man does not stand full in the breach. I 
was yesterday to wait with a subscription- 
proposal upon my Lord Squash, the Creolin.* 

1 ■\^^leu the number of readers was small, authors 
and men of leaniiiii; depended upon the noble and 
wealtliy, who, in return for tlieir patronage and'sup- 
pnrt, ^\eie tlattereJ in dedicatory epistles and son- 
ui'ts into the belief that kings and lords could create 
genius. Tnccnse of this Ivind was otfered up to 
Louis XIV. The flatterers said — 

Un Auguste pent aisement faire un Virgile. 
And Mr. D' Israeli states, in liis ' Curiosities of Lite- 
rature,' that'll was not unusual for w riters to compare 
their patrons with the Divinity. In ridicule of this de- 
grading practice, Scarron addressed one of his dedi- 
cations to his dog. There is also a story mentioned 
by Mr. D'lsiaeli of a patron writing a dedication 
to himself, and putting the name of the poor author 
who had iipplied to him at the end of it. In the 
reign of George I. the objects of dedicatory epistles 
were so well understood, that the price for the dedi- 
cation of a play was settled at twenty guineas. Pub- 
lishing books by subscription succeeded the practice 
of dependence upon a single patron. This was sail- 
ing timidly within sight of shore, and m.irked the 
transition which has distinguished those times from 
the bold and enterprising literary speculations of the 
present day. It is interesting to mark this period, 
when authors began to emancipate themselves from 
the caprices of individuals, and to care only for the 
favour of the public. There are several papers in 
the ' Kambler ' which show that the views of en- 
lightened men were seeking higher and more dura- 
ble sources of fame. Is'o. 27 recounts ' An Author's 
Treatment from Six Patrons;" No. 163 is on 'The 
Mischief of follow ing a Patron ;' and No. 136 points 
out ' Tlie Meanness and Mischiefs of indiscriminate 
Dedication.' In the latter paper, he who flattered 
and he who paid for the agreeable dose is equally 
blamed. Sometimes, however, it is remarked, the 
patron is less to blame than the author, who has 
waited long until he could tind any one to pay for his 
flattery: and " many a complaint has been vented 
against the decline of learning and neglect of genius, 
when either parsimony has declined expense, or ho- 
nest indignation rejected falsehood." 



A CLUB OF AUTHORS. 



(i.5 



I hail posted myself at his door the whole 
nioriiiiiir. and, just as he was tfetfiiiij into liis 
coach, tlirust my jiroposiil sniii; into his 
hand, tolded up in the tbnn of a letter t'rotn 
myself". He just glanced at tlie superscrip- 
tion, and, not knowing the hand, consigned 
it to his valet-<lc-chanil)re : this respectahle 
personage treated it ;us his master, and put it 
into the hands ol" tlie ])ortcr; the porter 
(^.isjx-d my projjosal iVowning, and, measur- 
ing my figure from toj) to toe, put it i)ack 
into mv own hands vniopencd.' 

'■To the devil I pitch all the nohility ! " 
cries a little man, in a peculiar accent: •' I 
am sure they have of late useil me most scur- 
vily. Vou must know, gentlemen, some 
time ago, upon tlie arrival of a certain nohle 
duke from his travels. I set myself down, and 
vamped up a tine flaunting poetical panegy- 
ric, which I had written in such a strain, 
tiiat I fancied it would liave even wheedled 
milk from a mouse. In this I represented 
the whole kingdom welcoming his grace to 
his native soil, not forgetting tlie loss France 
and Italy would sustain in their arts hy his 
departure. I expected to touch for a haiik- 
l)ill at least ; so, folding up my verses in gilt 
paper, I gave my last half-crown to a genteel 
servant to he the bearer. My letter was 
safely conveyed to his grace, and the servant, 
after four hours' absence, during which time 
I led tlie life of a fiend, returneil with a letter 
four times as big as mine. Guess my ecstiisy at 
the prospect of so fine a return. I eagerly took 
the packet into my hands, that trembled to re- 
ceive it. I kept it some time unopened liefore 
me, brooding over tlie exjiected treasure it con- 
tained ; when opening it, as I hope to be 
saved, gentlemen ! his grace had sent me, in 
payment for my jioem, no bank-bills, iiut si.x 
copies of verses, each longer than mine, ad- 
dressed to him ujion the same occasion.'' 

" A nobleman," cries a member, who had 
hitherto been silent, " is created as much for 
the confusion of us authors as the catch-jiole. 
I 11 tell you a story, gentlemen, which is as 
true as that this pipe is made of clay. When 
I was delivered of my first book I owed my 
tailor for a suit of clothes; liut that is no- 
thing new, you know, and may be any man's 
case as well as mine. Well, owing him for 
a suit of clothes, and hearing that my book 



took very well, he sent for his money, and 
insisted upon being paid immediately: tliou<'h 
I was at that time rich in fame, for my book 
run like wild-fire, yet I w;is very short in 
money ; antl, being unable to satisfy his de- 
mand, jirudently resolved to keep my cham- 
ber, preferring a prison of my own choosing 
at home to one of my tailor's clioosing abroad. 
In vain the bailiffs used all their arts to de- 
coy me from my citadel; in vain they sent 
to let me know that a gentleman wanted to 
speak with me at the next tavern ; in vain 
they came with an urgent message from my 
aunt in the country ; in vain I was told that 
a particular friend was at tliei)oiiit of death, 
and desired to take his last farewell : I was 
dead, insensible, rock, adamant ; the bailiirs 
could make no impression on my hard heart ; 
for I effectually kejit my liberty by never 
stirring out of the room. 

" This was very well for a fortnight ; 
when one morning I received a most splen- 
did message from the Earl of Doomsday, 
importing that he had read my hook, and 
was in raptures with every line of it; he im- 
patiently longed to see the author, and had 
some designs which might turn out greatly 
to my advantage. I paused upon the con- 
tents of this message, and found there could 
he no deceit, for the card v.'as gilt at the 
edges, and the bearer, I was told, had quite 
the looks of a gentleman. \V itness, ye powers, 
how my heart triumjihed at my own im- 
portance! I saw a long perspective of feli- 
city before me ; I applauded tlie taste of the 
times, which never saw genius forsaken ; I 
had prepared a set introductory speech for 
the occasion, five glaring compliments for his 
lordship, and two more modest for myself. 
The next morning, therefore, in order to he 
punctual to my appointment, I took coach, 
and ordered tlie fellow to drive to the street 
and house mentioned in his lordship's ad- 
dress. I had the precaution to pull uj) the 
window iis I went along, to keep off the busy 
part of mankind, and, big witii expectation, 
fancied the coach never went fiist enough. 
At length, however, the wislied-for moment 
of its stopping arrived : this for some time I 
impatiently expected, and, letting down the 
window in a traiis])ort, in order to take a j)re- 
vious view of his lordship's magnificent pa- 

K 



66 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



lace and sitiKitioii, I found — poison to my 
sight! — I found myself, not in an elegant 
sti-eet, but a paltry lane ; not at a nobleman's 
door, but the door of a s|)onging-house. I 
I'ound the coachman had all this while been 
just driving me to jail, and 1 saw tlie bai- 
litr, with a devil's face, coming out to secure 
me.'' 

To a philosopher no circumstance, how- 
ever tritling, is too minute; he finds instruc- 
tion and entertainment in occurrences which 



are passed over by the rest of mankind as 
low, trite, and indifl'erent; it is from the 
number of these particulars, which to many 
appear insignificant, that he is at last en- 
abled to form general conclusions : tliis, there- 
fore, must be my excuse for sending so far as 
China accounts of manners and follies, which, 
though minute in their own nature, serve 
more truly to characterise this people tlian 
histories of their public treaties, courts, mi- 
nisters, negociations, and ambassadors. 

Adieu. 



LETTER XXXI. 



•the perfection of the CHINESE IN THE ART OF GARDENING DESCRIPTION OF A CHINESE 

GARDEN.' 

From the Same. 



The English have not yet brought the art of 
gardening to the same perfection with the 
Chinese, but liave' lately begun to imitate 
them. Nature is now followed with greater 
assiduity tlian formerly ; the trees are suf- 
fered to shoot out into the utmost luxuri- 
ance ; tlie streams, no longer forced from 
their native beds, are pennitted to wind along 
the valleys ; spontaneous flowers take place 
-of the finished parterre, and the enamelled 
meadow of tlie shaven green. 

Yet still the English are far behind us in 
this charming art : their designers have not 
yet attained a power of uniting instruction 
with beauty. An European will scarcely 
conceive my meaning when I say that there 

1 Very oxaggeiateil notions prevailed at this pe- 
riod relative to the perfection of tlie C'liiiiese style 
of gardeniiii,'; and the fashion of laying out gardens 
in the so-called Chinese style became fashionable not 
only in England but in France. Tlie most favour- 
able account which we can find of the taste of the 
Chinese in laying out gardens and pleasure-grounds 
is given by Mr. Barrow in his ' Travels in China.' 
He says they are " particularly expert in magnify- 
ing the real dimensions of a piece of ground, by a 
proper disposition of the objects intended to emliel- 
lish its surface. For this pui-pose tall and luxuriant 
trees of the deepest green w ere planted in the fore- 
ground from whence the view was to be taken, 
whilst those in the distance gradually diminished in 
size .and depth of colouring ;" and there were besides 
many other artifices practised, sucli as are employed 
in the most approved fashion of laying out a garden 
in the present day. See also Note to Letter xiv. 



is scarcely a garden in China which does not 
contain some fine moral, coucbed under the 
general design, where one is not taught wis- 
dom as he walks, and feels the force of some 
noble trvith, or delicate precept, resulting 
from the disposition of the groves, streams, or 
grottos. Permit me to illustrate what I 
mean by a description of my gardens at 
Quansi. My heart still hovers round those 
scenes of former happiness with pleasure ; 
and I find a satisfaction in enjoying them at 
this distance, though but in imagination. 

^'ou descended from the house between two 
groves of trees planted in such a manner that 
they were impenetrable to the eye, while on 
each hand the way was adorned with all 
that was beautiful in porcelain, statuary, 
and painting. This passage from the house 
opened into an area surrounded with rocks, 
flowers, trees, and shrubs, but all so disposed 
as if each was the spontaneous production of 
nature. As you proceeded forward on this 
lawn, to your right and left hand were two 
gates, opposite each other, of very dif!erent 
architecture and design ; and before you lay 
a temple, built rather with minute elegance 
than ostentation. 

The right-hand gate was planned with the 
utmost simplicity, or rather rudeness : ivy 
clasped round the pillars, the baleful cypress 
hung over it ; time seemed to have destroyed 
all the smootlmess and regularity of the 



CHINESE ART OF GARDENING. 



67 



stone; two champions, with lilted clubs, ap- 
peart'd in the act of" giiariling its .access; dra- 
gons ami siTpents wert' seen in the most hi- 
ileons attitudes to deter tlie sjjcctator from 
approaching; and the perspective view that 
lay behind seemed dark and gloomy to the 
last degree. The stranger was tem])ted to 
enter only from the motto — Pervia I'lrliiti. 

The opposite gate wa-s ibnned in a very 
diJTerent manner : the architecture was light, 
elegant, and inviting ; flowers liung in 
wreaths round the pillars; all was tinished 
in the most exact and masterly manner; the 
very stone of which it was built still pre- 
served its polish ; nymphs, wrought by the 
hand of a master, in the most alluring atti- 
tudes, beckoned the stranger to approach ; 
while all that lay behind, as far as the eye 
could reach, seemed gay. luxuriant, and ca- 
pable of atVording endless pleasure. The 
motto itself contributed to invite him, for 
over the gate were written these words — 
Factlns Descensti.1. 

By this time I fancy you begin to perceive 
that the gloomy gate was designed to repre- 
sent the road to Virtue ; the opposite, tiie 
more agreeable passage to Vice. It is but na- 
tural to suppose tliat the spectator was always 
tempted to enter by the gate which offered 
him 80 many allurements. I always in 
tliese cases left him to his choice ; but gene- 
rally found that he took to the left, which 
promised most entertainment. 

Immediately upon his entering tlie gate of 
Vice the trees and flowers were disposed in 
such a maimer as to make the most pleasing 
impression ; but, as he walked farther on,'he 
insensibly founil the garden assume the 
air of a wilderness, the landscapes began to 
darken, the paths grew more intricate, he ap- 
peared to go downwards, frightl'ul rocks 
seemed to hang over his head, gloomy ca- 
verns, unexpected precipices, awful ruins, 
heai)3 of unburied bones, and terrifying 
sounds caused by unseen waters, began to 



take jjlace of what at first appeared so 
lovely ; it was in vain to atteni])t returning, 
tlie labyrinth was too nnich jjeqdexed for 
any but myself to lind the way back. In 
short, when sulliciently impressed with the 
horrors of what he saw, and the impru- 
dence of his choice, I brought him by a hid- 
den door a shorter way back into the area 
from wlience at first he had strayed. 

The gloomy gate now ))resented itself be- 
fore the stranger ; and, though there seemed 
little in its a))pearance to tempt his curiosity, 
yet, encouraged by the motto, he gradually 
])roceedeil. The darkness of the entrance, 
the frightful figures that seemed to obstruct 
his way, the trees of a mournful green, con- 
spired at first to disgust him ; as he went 
forward, however, all began to oi)en and wear 
a more pleasing appearance: lieautiful cas- 
cades, beds of flowers, trees loaded with fruit 
or lilossoms, and unexpected brooks, im- 
proved tlie scene : he now found that he was 
ascending, and, as he ])roceeded, all nature 
grew more beautiful ; the prospect widened 
as he went higher, even the air itself seemed 
to become more pure. Thus ))leased and 
happy from unexpected beauties, I at last 
led him to an arbour, from whence he could 
view the garden and the whole country 
around, and where he might own that the 
road to \'irtue terminated in Hapj)iness. 

Though from this description you may 
imagine that a vast tract of ground was ne- 
cessary to exhitiit such a ])leasing variety in, 
yet be assur<;d I have seen several gardens in 
England take u]) ten times the S])ace which 
iniiu' did, without half tlie beauty. A very 
small extent of ground is enougli for an ele- 
gant taste; the greater room is required if 
magnificence is in view. There is no spot, 
though ever so little, which a skilful de- 
signer might not thus improve, so as to con- 
vey a delicate allegory, and impress the mind 
with trutlis the most useful and necessary. 
Adieu. 



f2 



68 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



LETTER XXXII. 



OF THE DEGENERACY OF SOME OF THE ENGI.I-Jll NOBILITV- 

AMONGST THE TAHTAKS. 

From the Same. 



-A 5HSIIU00M FEAST 



In a late excursion with my friend into the 
country, a gentleman with a blue rililion 
tied round his shoulder, and in a chariot 
drawn hy six horses, passed swiftly by us, 
attended with a numerous train of captains, 
lacqueys, and coaches tilled with women. 
When we were recovered from the dust raised 
by this cavalcade, and could continue our 
discourse without danger of suffocation, I ob- 
served to my companion tliat all tliis state 
and equijiage, which he seemed to despise, 
would in Cliina be regarded with the utmost 
reverence, because such distinctions were al- 
ways the reward of merit; the greatness of 
a mandarin's retinue being a most certain 
mark of the superiority of his abilities or 
virtue.^ 

" The gentleman who has now passed us," 
replied my companion, •' has no claims from 
his own merit to distinction ; he is possessed 
neither of abilities nor virtue; it is enough 
for him that one of his ancestors was possessed 
of these qualities two hundred years before 
him. There was a time, indeed, when his 
family deserved their title, but they are long 
since degenerated, and his ancestors for more 
than a century have l)een more and more soli- 
citous to keep up the breed of their dogs and 
horses tlian that of their children. This 
very nobleman, simple as he seems, is de- 
scended from a race of statesmen and heroes ; 
but, urduckily, his great-grandfather mar- 
rying a cook-maid, and she having a trifling 
passion for his lordship's groom, they some- 
how crossed the strain, and produced an heir 
who took after his mother in his great love to 



1 Bank is peremptorily iletermiued Ijy ceremo- 
nial usages. Thus a military mandarin of the 
hijjhest rank may be often seen on foot, when, as 
Mr. Davis states, a civil oihecr of middling rank 
would be considered as degraded except iu a chair 
with four bearers : the others are not allowed chairs, 
but may ride. Private persons are restricted to two 
bearers of their chairs, ordinary magistrates to four, 
and the viceroys to eight ; while the emperor's digni- 
fied btatiou reciuires sixteen. 



good eating, and his father in a violent afl'ec- 
tion for horse-flesh. These jiassions have for 
some generations jiassed on from father to son, 
and are now become tlie characteristics of the 
family; his present lordship being equally re- 
markable for his kitchen and his stable." 

" But such a nobleman," cried I, " de- 
serves our pity, thus placed in so high a 
sphere of life, which only the more exposes 
to contempt. \ king may confer titles, but 
it is personal merit alone that insures respect. 
I sujjpose," added I, '' that such men are de- 
spised by their equals, neglected by their 
inferiors, and condemned to live among invo- 
luntary dependents in irksome solitude." 

" You are still under a mistake," replied 
my companion, '' for, though this noljleman 
is a stranger to generosity; though betakes 
twenty ojiportunities in a day of letting his 
guests know how mucli he despises them ; 
thougli he is possessed neither of taste, wit, 
nor wisdom ; though incapable of improving 
others by his conversation, and never known 
to enrich any by his bounty ; yet, for all this, 
his company is eagerly sought after: he is a 
lord, and that is as much as most people desire 
in a companion. Quality and title have such 
allurements, that hundreds are ready to give 
up all their own importance, to cringe, to 
flatter, to look little, and to pall every plea- 
sure in constraint, merely to be among the 
great, though without the least hopes of im- 
proving their understanding or sharing their 
generosity; they might be happy among their 
equals, but those are despised for company, 
where they are despised in turn. You saw 
what a crowd of humble cousins, card-iuined 
beaux, and captains on half-pay. were willing 
to make vqj tliis great man's retinue down to 
his country seat. Not one of all these that 
could not lead a more comfortable life at 
home in their little lodging of three shillings 
a-week, with their lukewarm dinner, served 
up between two pewter plates from a cook's- 
shoji. Yet, poor devils ! they are willing to 



ClIIXi:SE MANNERS. 



09 



mulergo flie impertinence ami ])ricle of their j 
enfertainor. nu'ifly to l)c tlioiii^lit to live 
among tlu' great : tliey are willing to ])as.s the 
Slimmer in boiniage, though conscious they 
are taken down only to ajjjnove his lorilshijj's 
taste upon every occasion, to tag all his stu- 
pid ohservatioiis with a ' ren/ tme,' to jiraise I 
his stahle, and descant upon his claret and 
cookery." 

" The pitiful humiliations of the gentle- 
men you are now descriliing." said I. " puts 
me in mind of a oistom among the Tartars of 
Koreki. not entirely ilissimilar to tiiis we are 
now considering.' Tiie Russians, who trade 
with them, carry thither a kind of mush- 
rooms, which they exchange for furs of squir- 
rels, ermines, sahles, an<l foxes. Tliese mush- 
rooms the rich Tartars lay uj) in large quan- 
tities for the winter ; and. when a nolileman 
makes a mushroom-feast, all the neighbours 
round are invited. The mushrooms are pre- 
pared by boiling, by which the water ac- . 
quires an intoxicating quality, and is a sort i 
of drink which the Tartars prize beyond all j 
other. When the nobility and ladies are j 
assembled, and the ceremonies usual between ' 
people of distinction over, the mushroom- 
broth goes freely round ; they laugh, talk 
double-entendre, grow (fuddled, and become 
excellent company. The poorer sort, who 
love mushroom-broth to distraction as well 
as the rich, but cannot aflbrd it at the first 
hand, post themselves on these occasions 
round the huts of the rich, and watch the 



opportunity of the ladies and gentlemen as 
they come down to pass their liquor ; and, 
holding a wooden l)owl, catch the dtlicious 
fhiid, very little altered by filtration, lieing 
still strongly tinctured witli the intoxicating 
quality. Of this they drink with the utmost 
satisfaction, and thus they get as drank and 
as jovial as their betters." 

" Ha))])y nobility !"' cries my companion, 
" who can fear no diminution of respect, un- 
less l)y being seized witli stranguary, and 
who when most drunk are most useful ! 
Though we have not this custom among us, 
I foresee that if it were introduced we might 
have many a toad-eater in England ready to 
drink from the wooden bowl on these occa- 
sions, and to praise the flavour of his lord- 
ship's liquor. As we have different classes 
of gentry, who knows but we may see a lord 
holding tlie bowl to a minister, a knight hold- 
ing it to his lordshi]), and a simj)le 'squire 
drinking it double distilled from the loins of 
the knighthood ? For my part, I shall never 
for the future hear a great mans flatterers 
haranguing in his praise, that 1 shall not fancy 
I behold the wootlen bowl ; for I can see no 
reason why a man who i-an live easily and 
haj)pily at home should bear the drudgery 
of decorum and the impertinence of his en- 
tertainer, unless intoxi<;ated with a passion 
for all that was cjuality ; unless he thought 
that whatever came from the great was deli- 
cious, and had the tincture of the muslu-oom 
in it." Adieu. 



LETTER XXXIII. 

THE .MANNER OF WRITING .'VMONG TIIE CHINESE THE E.\STERN TALES OF MAG.^ZINES, ETC., 

HIDICILED. 

From the Same. 



I AM disgusted, O Funi Hoam, even to 
sickness disgusted. Is it possilde to Ijcar the 
presumption of those islanders, when they 
pretend to instruct me in the ceremonies of 
China? They lay it down as a maxim, that 
every person who comes from thence must ex- 

' Tliis fact is stated on the aiitliority of Van Stra- 
lenlM?r({'» Historico-Geograiihieal ' Description of 
the Northeastern i>arts of Europe und Asia.' (A.) 



press himself in metaphor ; swear by Alia, rail 
against wine, and bcliave, and talk, and write 
like a Turk or Persian. They make no dis- 
tinction between our elegant manners and 
the voluptuous barbarities of our eastern 
neighbours. Wherever I come 1 raise either 
diflidence or astonishment : some fancy me 
no Chinese, because I am formed more like a 
man than a monster ; and others wonder to 



70 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLIX 



find one honi five thoiisaiid miles from Eng- 
land endued with cuinnion sense. Stianpe. 
say tl>ey, that a man who lias received his 
education at such a distance from London 
shovdd liHve common sense! To be l)orn out 
of England, and yet have common sense ! 
Impossible ! He must be some Englishman 
in disguise: his very visage has nothing of 
the true exotic barbarity. 

I j'esterday received an invitation from a 
lady of distinction, who it seems had collected 
all her knowledge of eastern manners from 
tictions every day propagated here inider the 
titles of ' Eastern Tales, and Oriental Histo- 
ries :' she received me very politely, but 
seemed to wonder that I neglected bringing 
opium and a tobacco-box : when chairs were 
drawn for the rest of the company, I was 
assigned my place on a cushion on the floor.' 
It was in vain that I protested the Chinese 
used chairs as in Europe ; she understood 
decorum too well to entertain me with the 
ordinary civilities. 

I had scarcely been seated according to her 
directions when the footman was ordered to 
pin a iiaplsin under mj- chin : this I protested 
against, as being no way Chinese ; however, 
the whole company, who it seems were a club 
of connoisseurs, gave it unanimously against 
me, and the napkin was pinned accordingly. 

It was impossible to be angry with people 
who seemed to err only from an excess of po- 
liteness, and I sat contented, expecting their 
importunities were now at an end : but, as 
soon as ever dinner was served, the lady de- 
manded whether I was for a plate of bears" 
claws 2 or a slice of liirds" nests ? ^ ^g these 
were dishes with which I was utterly unac- 



1 Tlie Chinese are perhaps flie only people in Asia 
who make vise of chairs, that is, who do not adopt a 
position diffeient from our mode of sittin;^. At the 
entertainment ^'iven by the late emperor Kieii-Loong 
to Lord Macartney and his suite tlie guests sat cross- 
legged on cushions, as no one is allowed to sit in the 
presence of the emperor. 

* The paws of these animals, which abotind in 
fat, are eaten by the Chinese as a delicacy. — See 
• Chinese,' vol. ii. p. 338. 

^ Tliis is a dish in which the Chinese arc perfect 
epicures. 1 he substance thus served up is reduced 
into very thin filaments, transparent as isinglass, and 
resembling vermicelli.— /ii't/., vol. i., p. 323. The 
edible birds' nests are also eaten with soy and pi- 
geons' eggs boiled hard. 



qnainted, I was desirous of eating only what 
I knew, and therefore tiegged to be hel])ed 
from a j)iece of beef that lay on the side 
table : my request at once disconcerted the 
whole company. A Chinese eat beef ! that 
could never be ! there was no local propriety 
in Chinese beef, whatever there might be in 
Chinese pheasant. "Sir," said my entertainer, 
"Itliink I liave some reasons to fancy myself a 
judge of these matters ; in short, the Chi- 
nese never eat beef;'' so that I must be per- 
mitted to recommend the pilaw. There was 
never better dressed at Pekin ; the safi'ron and 
rice are well boiled, and the spices in per- 
fection. " 

I had no sooner begun to eat what was laid 
before me than I found the w'hole company 
as much astonished as before : it seeiris I made 
no use of my chop-sticks. A grave gentle- 
man, whom I take to be an author, harangued 
veiy learnedly (as the company seemed to 
think) upon the use which was made of them 
in China. He entered into a long argument 
with himself about their first introduction, 
without once appealing to me, who might be 
supposed best capable of silencing the in- 
quiry. As the gentleman therefore took my 
silence for a mark of his own superior saga- 
city, he was resolved to pursue the triumph : 
he talked of our cities, mountains, and ani- 
mals as familiarly as if he had been bom in 
Quamsi, but as erroneously as if a native of 
the moon. He attempted to prove that I had 
nothing of the true Chinese cut in my visage ; 
showed that my cheek-bones should have 
been higher, and my forehead broader. In 
short, he almost reasoned me out of my coun- 
try, and effectually persuaded the rest of the 
company to be of his opinion. 

I was going to expose his mistakes when 
it was insisted that I had nothing of the true 
eastern manner in my delivery. '' This gen- 
tleman's conversation" (says one of the la- 
dies, who was a great reader) " is like our 
own, mere cliit-chat and common sense : there 
is nothing like sense in the true etistern 
style, where nothing more is required but sub- 



^ Tlie influence of Budhism is perhaps one of the 
reasons why lieef is scarcely ever eaten by the Chi- 
nese ; and to this cause must be added the economi- 
cal circumstances of the country. 



EASTERN TALES OF MAGAZINES, ETC. 



71 



liinity. Oh ! for a history of Aboulfaouris, 
the erand voyasjcr, of genii, magicians, rocks, 
liags of bullets, giants, and enchanters, where 
all is great, obscure, niagiiilicent, and unin- 
telligible 1" — '■ I have written many a sheet of' 
eastern tale myself,"' interrujifs the author, 
'' and I defy the severest critic to say but 
that I have stuck close to the true manner. 
I have com])ared a lady's chin to the snow 
upon the mountains of Bomek ; a soldier's 
sword to the clouds that obscure the face of 
heaven. If riches are mentioned. I com])arcd 
them to the (locks ttiat graze the verdant 
Tefilis: if poverty, to the mists that veil the 
brow of iTiovuit Baku. 1 liave used thee and 
thou upon all occasions ; I have described 
fallen stars, and splitting mountains, not for- 
getting the little houries, who make a pretty 
ligure in every description. But you should 
hear how I generally begin : ' Ebenhen-bolo, 
who/was the son of Ban, was born on the 
foggy summits of Ben<lerabassi. His lieard 
was whiter than the feathers which veil the 
breast of the penguin ; his eyes were like the 
eyes of doves, when washed by the dews of 
the morning; his hair, which hung like the 
willow weeping over the ghissy stream, was 
so beautiful that it seemed to reflect its own 
brightness : and his feet were as the feet of a 
wild deer which lleeth to the tops of the 
mountains." ' There, there is the true eastern 
taste for you ; every advance made towards 
sense is only a deviation from sound. Eiustern 
tales should always be sonorous, lofty, musi- 
cal, and unmeaning." 

I could not avoid smiling to hear a native 
of England attemjit to instruct me in the 
true eastern ifliom; and. after he looked round 
some time for apjilause, I ])resumed to iisk 
him whether he bad ever travelled into the 
east; to which he replied in tlie negative. I 
demanded whether he understood Chinese or 
Arabic ; to which also he answered as before. 
" Then how, sir," said I, " can you ])re(end 
to determine ui)on the eastern style, who are 
entirely uiiacfjuainlcd with the eastern writ- 
ings? Take, sir, the word of otie who is 
professedly a Chines<', and who is actually 



acquainted with the Arabian writers, that 
what is j)almed u])on you daily for an imi- 
tation of eastern writing, no way resemV)les 
their manner either in sentiment or diction. 
In the east similes are seldom useil, and me- 
ta])hors almost wholly inikiiown ; but in 
China, particularly, the very reverse of wliat 
you allude to takes place : a cool phlegma- 
tic method of writing prevails there. The 
writers of that country, ever more assiduous to 
instruct than to ])lease, address rather the 
juilgment than the fancy. Unlike many 
authors of Europe, who liave no consideration 
of the reader's time, they generally leave 
more to be understood than they express. 

" Besides, sir, you must not expect from 
an inhabitant of China the same ignorance, 
the same inilettered simplicity, that you find 
in a Turk, Persian, or native of Peru. The 
Chinese are versed in the sciences as well as 
you, and are masters of several arts unknown 
to the people of Europe. Many of them are 
instructed not only in their own national 
learning, but are jjerfectly well acquainted 
with the languages and learning of the west. 
If my word in such a case is not to be taken, 
consult your own ti-avellers on this head, who 
affirm tliat the scholars of Pekin and Siara 
sustain theological theses in Latin. ' The 
college 'of Mas])rend, which is but a league 
from Siam,' says one of your travellers,* 
' came in a body to salute our ambassador. 
Notliing gave me more sincere pleasure than 
to behold a imniber of priests, venerable 
both from age and modesty, followed by a 
number of youths of all nations, Chinese, Ja- 
panese, Touquinese, of Cochin China, Pegu, 
and Siam, all willing to pay tlieir respects in 
the most polite manner iinaginaljle. A Cochin 
Chinese made an excellent Latin oration ujwii 
this occasion : he was succeeded, and even 
outdone, by a student of Tonquin, who was 
as well skilled in the western learning iis any 
scholar of Paris.' Now, sir, if youths who 
never stirred from home are so perfectly 
skilled in your laws and learning, surely 
more must l)e ex])ected from one like me, who 
liave travelled so many thousand miles — who 



' Thp maijazincB .and periodical puVilicatiniis of 
the day ul>oiin<le<i willi ' l-^aMcrii Tali-s,' writlcu iu 
the style so well ridiculuil in tliisspccimcu. 



* This is most probably taken from the accounts 
of Wu: Jesuits, which, in some cases, arc not to be 
entirely dcpcndcil upon. 



72 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



liavp convprscd familiarly for spvt'ral years 
with tlie J^iiijlish factors cstalilislicd at Can- 
ton, and tlie niissionarii's sent us from every 
part of Euro])e. The unaflected of every 
country nearly resemble each other; and a 
page of our Confucius and of your Tillotson 
have scarcely any material ditference. I'altry 
affectation, strained allusions, and disgusting 
finery are easily attained hy those who choose 
to wear them ; and they are but too fre- 
quently the badges of ignorance, or of stu- 
pidity, whenever it would endeavour to 
please." 

I was proceeding in my discourse, when, 
looking round, I 2)erceived the company no 



way attentive to what I attempted, with so 
much earnestness, to enforce. One lady was 
whispering lier that sat next, anotlier was study- 
ing the merits of a fan, a third began to yawn, 
and the author himself fell f;ist asleep. I 
thought it, therefore, high time to make a 
retreat ; nor did tlie comjiany seem to show 
any regret at my jireparations for departure : 
even the lady who had invited me with the 
most mortifying insensibility saw me seize 
my hat and rise from my cushion ; nor was I 
invited to repeat my visit, because it was 
found that I aimed at appearing rather a rea- 
sonable creature than an outlandish idiot. 
Adieu. 



LETTER XXXIV. 

OF THE PRESENT RIDICULOUS PASSION OF THE NOEILITV FOR P.ilNTING. 

From the Same. 



The polite arts are in this counh-y subject to 
as many revolutions as its laws or ])olitics : 
not only the objects of fancy and dress, but 
even of delicacy and taste, are directed by 
the capricious influence of fashion. I am 
told there has been a time when poetry was 
■universally encouraged by the great — when 
men of the first rank not only patronised the 
-poet, but produced the finest models for his 
imitation. It was then the English sent forth 
those glowing rhapsodies which we have so 
often read over together with rapture — poems 
big with all the sublimity of Mencius,' and 
supported by reasoning as stiong as that of 
Zimpo. 

The nobility are fond of wisdom, but they 
are also fond of having it without study. To 
read poetry required thouglit, and tlie Eng- 
lish nobilitj' were not fond of thinking: 
they soon, therefore, placeil their atl'ections 
upon music, because in this they might in- 
dulge a happy vacancy, and yet still have 

1 Mencius (Meng-tse) lived about a century after 
Confucius. lie was author of tlie fourth of tlie 
' Saored Books' of the Chinese, which is said to be 
superior to the others ; but it was not until the ele- 
■^enth century that this sage received the lionours 
which have been since paid to him. 



pretensions to delicacy and taste as before. 
They soon brought their numerous depend- 
ants into an approbation of their pleasures ; 
who, in turn, led their thousand imitators to 
feel or feign similitude of passion. Colonies 
of singers were now imported from abroad at 
a vast ex))ense, and it was expected the Eng- 
lish would soon be able to set examples to 
Europe. All these expectations, however, 
were soon dissipated. In spite of the zeal 
which fired the great, the ignorant vulgar re- 
fused to be taught to sing — refused to un- 
dergo the ceremonies which were to initiate 
them in the singing fraternity : thus the co- 
lony from abroad dwindled by degrees, for 
they were of themselves unfortunately inca- 
pable of propagating the breed.* 



2 The Italian opera encountered great opposition 
for many years after its introduction into this coun- 
try. Addison, .Swift. Pope, and Young made it an 
olyect of their ridicule. In 1706 two foreign wo- 
men sang their parts in the ' Queen of Si ythia' in 
Italian, the other performers singing them in English. 
The opera of ' Almahide,' written wholly in Ittilian, 
and performed solely by foreign singers, was pre- 
sented at the Queen's Theatre, Haymarket, in 1710; 
but move than thirty years after this it had not over- 
come the prejudices with which it was first assailed. 
In 1741 Horace Walpolo writes that the supporters 



PASSIOX OF THE NOBILITY FOR PAINTING, 



73 



Music having thus lost its s])lemli)iir. paiiit- 
iiiij is now iK'CDnio tlie sole olycct of Ijishioii- 
able care. The title of connoisseur in that 
art is at present the safest passjiort in ever}' 
fiishiiinahle society : a well-timed shnig, an 
ndniii iii'^ attitude, and one or two exotic tones 
of exclamation, are suflicient (jualilications 
for men of low circumstances to curry fa- 
vour. Even some of the yount; nohility are 
themselves early instructed in iiandling the 
pencil, while tlieir happv jiarents, hig with 
exi)ecfation, foresee tlie walls of every apart- 
ment covered with the manufactures of their 
posterity. 

But many of the English are not content 
with giving all their time to this art at 
home; some young men of distinction are 
found to travel tlirough Europe, with no 
other intent than that of understanding and 
collecting pictures, studying seals, and de- 
scribing statues. On they travel from this 
cabinet of curiosities to that gallery of pic- 
ture> — waste the prime of life in wonder — 
skilful in pictures, ignorant in men — yet im- 
possible to be reclaimed, because their follies 
take shelter under the names of delicacy and 
taste. 

It is true painting should have due en- 
couragement, as the painter can undoubtedly 
lit up our apartments in a much more elegant 
milliner than the u])holsterer ; ' but I should 
think a man of fashion makes but an indif- 
ferent exchange, who lays out all his time in 
furnishing Ids house which he should have 
employed in the furniture of his head. A per- 
son who shows no other sym])toms of taste 
than his cabinet or gallery might as well 
boast to me of the furniture of his kitchen. 

I know no other motive l)ut vanity that in- 
duces the great to testify such an inordinate 
passion for jjictures : after the piece is bought, 
and gazed at eight or ten days successively, 
the purchaser's pleasure must surely be over ; 

of the ojjora li;i<i " retaincil several eminent Itiwycrs 
from llie Hear (janlcn to iileiul llieir defence" — that 
is, tlu-y had en^jayed ]>iii;ilisls. 

' Tliis was written Ix'fDre fJolilsmith's fricndsliip 
witli Sir Josliua Ke\ nolds had eommeneed. 'Hiey 
first met in ITB'i, wlien, ilinibth-ss, (iiddsniitli's opi- 
nions of tliis hranch of tin- arts would undergo a 
ehanu'e. He had at one pi-rioil an i-inially <onti>miit- 
nous iiiiinion of tlic study of nialliemalies, hut rea- 
Bou and expc-rioDce led him to abundun it. 



all' the satisfaction he can then have is to 
show it to others : he may be considered as 
tlie guardian of a treasure of which he makes 
no maiuier of use. His gallery is furnished, 
not for himself, but the connoisseur, who is 
generally some humble flatterer, ready to 
feign a rajifure he does not feel, and as neces- 
sary to tlie hap|iiness of a picture-buyer as 
gazers are to the magnificence of aii Asiatic 
procession. 

I have enclosed a letter from a youth of 
distinction, on his travels, to his father in 
England; in which he appears addicted to 
no vice, seems obedient to his governor, of a 
good natural disposition, and fond of im- 
provement ; but at the same time early 
taught to regard cabinets and galleries as the 
only ])ro])er schools of improvement, and to 
consider a skill in jiictures as the properest 
knowledge for a man of quality. 

'• My Lord — VVe have been but two days 
at Antwerp, wherefore I have sat down as 
soon as possible to give you some account of 
what we have seen since our arrival, desirous 
of letting no op])ortuuity pass without writ- 
ing to so good a father. Immediately upon 
alighting from our Rotterdam machine, my 
governor, who is immoderately fond of jiaint- 
ings, and at the same time an excellent judge, 
would let no time j)ass till we paid our re- 
spects to the church of the Virgin- Mother, 
which contains treasure beyond estimation. 
We (ook an iiilinity of pains in knowing its 
exact dimensions, and dillered half a foot in 
our calculation ; so I leave that to some suc- 
ceeding information. I really believe my 
governor and I could have lived and died 
there. There is scarcely a pillar in the wdiole 
church that is not adorned by a Rubens, a 
Vander Meuylen, a A'andyke, or a Wouver- 
man. W'liat attitudes, carnations, and dra- 
jieries! I am almost induced to ])ity the 
English, who have none of those excpiisite 
jne<:es among them. As we are willing to 
let slip no o])]ioilunity of doing liusiness, we 
imnieiliately after went to wait on Mr. Ho- 
gendoq), whom you have so frequently com- 
mended for his judicious collection. His 
cameos are indeed beyond jirice ; his inta- 
glios not so good. He showed us one of an 
olliciatiiig flanieii, which lie thouglit to lie an 
antique; but my governor, who is not to be 



74 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



deceived in these particulars, soon found it to 
be an arrant ci/u/t/r retitn. 1 could not, how- 
ever, sufficiently admire the genius of Mr. 
Hogendorp, who has been able to collect, 
from all parts of the world, a thousand things 
which nobody knows the use of. Kxcept 
your lordsliip and my governor, I do not 
know anybody I admire so much. He is, 
indeed, a surjirising genius. 

" Tlie next morning early, as we were re- 
solved to take the whole day before us, we 
sent our compliments to Mr. Van Sprokken, 
desiring to see his gallery, which request he 
very politely complied with. His gallery 
measures fifty feet by twenty, and is well 
filled ; but wliat surprised me most of all 
was to see a Holy Family just like j^our lord- 
ship's, which tliis ingenious gentleman assures 
me is the true original. I own this gave me 
inexpressible uneasiness, and I fear it will to 
your lordship, as I had flattered myself that 
the only original was in your lordships pos- 
session. I would advise you, however, to 
take yours down till its merit can be ascer- 
tained, my governor assuring me that he 
intends to write a long dissertation to prove 
its originality. One might study in tliis city 
for ages, and still find something new. We 



M'ent from this to view the cardinaVs statues, 
wliich are really very fine ; there were three 
spintria executed in a very masterly manner, 
all arm in arm : the torse which I heard you 
talk so much of, is at last discovered to be a 
Hercules spinning, and not a Cleopah-a liath- 
ing, as your lordship had conjectured. There 
has been a treatise written to jjrove it. 

'■ ISIy Lord Firmly is certainly a Goth, 
a A'andal, no taste in the world for paint- 
ing. I wonder how any call him a man 
of taste : passing through the streets of Ant- 
werp a few days ago, and observing the na- 
kedness of the inhabitants, he was so barba- 
rous as to observe, that he thought the best 
method the Flemings could take was to sell 
their pictures and buy clothes. Ah, Cogline ! 
We shall go to-morrow to Mr. Carwarden's 
cabinet, and the next day we shall see the 
curiosities collected by ^'an Ran ; and the 
day after we shall pay a visit to Mount Cal- 
vary, and after that but I find mj' pa- 
per finished; so, with the most sincere wishes 
for your lordship's happiness, and with hopes, 
after having seen Italy, that centre pleasure, 
to return home worthy the care and expense 
which has been generously laid out in my 
improvement, I remain, my lord, yours, &c." 



LETTER XXXV. 

THE PHILOSOrHER's SON DESCRIBES A LADY, HIS FELLOW-CAPTIVE. 
From Himjpo, a slave in Persia, to Altaiigi. &,-c. 



Fortune has made me the slave of an- 
other, but nature and inclination render me 
entirely subservient to you ; a tyrant com- 
mands my body, but you are master of my 
heart. And yet let not thy infiexible nature 
condemn me when I confess that I find my 
soul shrink with my circumstances. I feel 
my mind not less than my body bend be- 
neath the rigours of servitude; the master 
whom I serve grows every day more formid- 
able. In spite of reason, which should teach 
me to despise him, his hideous image fills 
even my dreams with horror. 

A few days ago, a Christian slave, who 
wrought in the gardens, happening to enter 
an arbour where the tyrant was entertaining 



the ladies of his harem with coffee, the un- 
happy captive was instantly stabbed to the 
heart for his intrusion. I have been preferred 
to his place, which, though less laborious 
tlian my former station, is yet more ungrate- 
ful, as it brings me nearer him whose pre- 
sence excites sensations at once of disgust 
and apprehension. 

Into what a state of misery are the modern 
Persians fallen ! ' A nation famous for setting 
the world an example of freedom, is now be- 

1 Persia had been for many years a scene of fre- 
quent anarchy and revolution, from which evils it 
was temporarily relieved by Nadir Shah, who was 
murdered in 1747, when the empire was again thrown 
into a state of contusion . 



FEMALE CAPTIVE. 



76 



como a land of tyrants and a den of slaves. 
Till' housi'less Tartar of Kamscliatka, wlio 
enjoys his herbs and his lish in unmolested 
freedom, may lie envied, if com])ared to the 
thousands who pine here in hojK'less servitude, 
and curse the day that gave them being. Is 
this just dealing. Heaven ! to render millions 
wretched to swell up the happiness of a few? 
cannot the powerfid of this earth be ha])]iy 
without our sighs and tears? must every lux- 
ury of the great be woven from the calamities 
of the ]K)or ? It must, it must surely be. that 
tliis jarring discordant life is but the jirelude 
to some iuture harmony : the soul attuned to 
virtue here shall go from lience to till up the 
iuiivers;il choir where Tien presides in per- 
son ; ' where tliere shall be no tyrants to frown, 
no shackles to bind, nor no whips to threaten ; 
where I shall once more meet my father with 
rapture, and give a loose to filial piety : 
where I shall hang on his neck, and hear the 
wisdom of his lips, and thank him for all the 
hap])inessto which he has introduced me. 

The wretch whom fortune has made mj- 
master has lately purchased several slaves of 
Ifoth sexes : among the rest I hear a Christian 
captive talked of with admiration. The 
eunuch who bought her, and who is accus- 
tomed to survey beauty witli indi (Terence, 
speaks of her w ith emotion. Her pride, how- 
ever, astonishes her attendant slaves not less 
than lier beauty. It is rej)orted that she refuses 
the warmest solicitations of her haughty lord ; 
he has even oflered to make her one of his 
four wives upon changing her religion, and 
cont"orming to his. It is probalde she cannot 
refuse such extraordinary oilers, and lier ile- 
lay is perhaps intended to enhance her fa- 
vours. 

1 have just now seen her; she inadvert- 
ently approached the ])lace without a veil, 
where I sat writing. She seemed to regard 

' Mr. Diivis says: — " Of Tien, or heaven, the Chi- 
nese Rjieak !i8 of the Supreme lieiii};, pcrviuUnij; tiie 
universe, auJ awaniin;; moral retrihiilion. Tlie com- 
mon people (■ollo<(iiially ap])ly to it a term of respott 
equivalent to Venerable Fatln-r or Lord.'' 



the heavens alone with fixed attention : there 
her most ardent gaze was directed, (ienius 
of the sun! what luicxpected softness ! what 
animated grace ! her beauty seemed the 
transjiarent covering of virtue. Celestial be- 
ings could not wear a look of more perfection, 
while sorrow humanised her form, and mixed 
my admiration with pity. I rose from the 
bank on which I sat, and she retired ; liap])y 
that none oliserved us ; for such an interview 
might have been fatal. 

1 have regarded, till now, the opulence and 
the ])ower of my tyrant without envy. I saw 
him with a mind incapable of enjoying the 
gift of fortune, and consequently regarded 
him as one loaded, rather than enriched, with 
its favours; but at jiresent, when I think that 
so nuich beauty is reserved only for liim ; 
that so many channs should be lavished on a 
wretch incapable of feeling the greatness of 
the blessing, I own I feel a reluctance to 
which I have liitherto been a stranger. 

But let not my father impute those uneasy 
sensations to so trifling a cause as love. No, 
never let it be thought that your son, and 
the pupil of the wise Fum Hoam, could stoop 
to so degrading a passion. I am only dis- 
pleased at seeing so much excellence so un- 
justly disposed of. 

The uneasiness which I feel is not lor my- 
self, but for the beautiful Christian. \\'hen 
I rellect on the barbarity of him for whom 
she is designed, I pity, indeed I pity her; 
when I think that she must only share one 
heart, who deserves to command a thousand, 
excuse me if I feel an emotion, which uni- 
versal benevolence extorts from me. As I 
am convinced that you take a ])leasnre in 
those sallies of humanity, and are particularly 
pleaseil with compassion, I could not avoid 
discovering the sensibility with which I felt 
this beautiful stranger's distress. I liave for 
a while forgot, in hcr's, the miseries of my 
own ho])eless situation : the tyrant grows 
every day more severe; and love, which 
softens all other minds into tenderness, seems 
only to have increased his severity. Adieu. 



76 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



LETTER XWVr. 

THE UEAITIFIL CAPTIVE CONSENTS TO ftlAUKY HER LOKD. 

From the Same. 



The whole harem is filled with a tuimiltuous 
juy. Zelis, the beautiful ca])tive, has con- 
sented to embrace the religion of Mahomet, 
and become one of the wives of the fasti- 
dious Persian. It is impossible to de- 
scribe the transport that sits on every face 
on this occasion. Music and feasting till 
every apartment, the most miserable slave 
seems to forget his chains, and synipatliises 
witli the happiness of Mostadad. The herb 
we tread beneath our feet is not made more 
for our use, than every slave around him for 
flieir imperious master ; mere machines of 
obedience, they wait with silent assiduity, 
feel liis pains, and rejoice in his exultation. 
Heavens ! how much is requisite to make one 
man happy ! 

Twelve of the most beautiful slaves, and I 
anwng the number, have got orders to prepare 
for carrying him in triumjih to tlie bridal 
apartment. The blaze of perfumed torches 
are to imitate the day : the dancers and 
singers are hired at a vast expense. The 
nuptials are to be celebrated on the approacli- 
ing feast of Barboura, when a hundred taels 
in gold are to be distributed among the bar- 
ren wives, in order to pray for fertility from 
the approaching union. 

What will not riches procure ! A hundred 
domestics, who curse the tyrant in their souls, 
are commanded to wear a face of joy. and they 
are joyful. A hundred flatterers are ordered 
to attend, and they till his ears with praise. 
JJeauty, all-commanding beauty, sues for 
admittance, and scarcely I'eceives an answer : 
even love itself seems to wait upon fortune, 
for though the passion be only feigned, yet it 
wears every appearance of sincerity ; and what 
greater pleasure can even true sincerity con- 
fer, or what would tlie rich have more ? 

Nothing can exceed tlie intended magniti- 
cence of the bridegroom but the costly 
dresses of the bride : six eunuchs in the most 
sumptuous habits are to conduct him to the 
nuptial couch, and wait his orders. Six la- 



dies, in all the magnificence of Persia, are 
directed to undress the bride. Tlieir Imsiness 
is to assist, to encourage her, to divest her of 
every encumbering jiart of her dress, all but 
the last covering, which, by an artful compli- 
cation of ribbons, is purjiosely made difiicult 
to unloose, and with which she is to part re- 
luctantly even to the joyful possessor of her 
beauty. 

Mostadad, O my father, is no philosopher ; 
and yet he seems perfectly contented with 
ignorance. Possessed of numberless slaves, 
camels, and women, he desires no greater pos- 
session. He never opened the page of Blen- 
cius, and yet all the slaves tell me that he is 
hajjpy. 

Forgive the weakness of my nature, if I 
sometimes feel my heart rebellious to the dic- 
tates of wisdom, and eager tor happiness like 
his. Yet why wish for his wealtli with Ids 
ignorance '? to be like him, incapable of sen- 
timental pleasures, incapable of feeling the 
happiness of making others happy, incapable 
of teaching tlie beautiful Zelis philosophy ? 

What! shall I in a transport of jiassion give 
up the golden meai', the universal harmonj'', 
the unchanging essence, for the possession of 
a hundred camels, as many slaves, thirty- 
five beautiful horses, aiid seventy-three fine 
women? First blast me to the centre! de- 
grade me beneath the most degraded ! Pare 
my nails, ye powers of Heaven ! ere I would 
stoop to such an exchange. Wliat ! part with 
philosophy, which teaches me to suppress my 
passions instead of gratifying them ; which 
teaches me even to divest my soul of passion; 
which teaches serenity in the midst of tor- 
tures ! Philosophy, by which even now I am 
so very serene, and so verj' much at ease, to 
be persuaded to part with it for any other en- 
joyment! Never, never, even tliough per- 
suasion spoke in the accents of Zelis! 

A female slave informs me that the bride 
is to be arrayed in a tissue of silver, and her 
hair adorned with the largest pearls of Ormus : 



FTTILITY OF THE TURSUIT OF WISDOM. 



77 



but why tease you « ilh jiarl'unilars in wliicli 
we Uith are so little cmieerned ! Tlii' itaiii I 
feel in sej)aralion throws a gloom over my 
mind, which in this scene of universal joy I 



fear may he attributed to some other cause; 
how wretchcil are those who are, like me, de- 
nied even the last resource of misery, their 
tears ! Adieu. 



LETTER XXXVII. 

THE rilll.OSOPlIER's SON BEGINS TO BE DISGUSTED IN THE PCRSLIT OF WISDOM — AN 
AU.EGOKY TO PROVE ITS KITILITV. 

From the Same. 



I BEGIN to have doubts whether wisdom be 
alone sufficient to make us happy ; whe- 
ther every step we make in reliiiement is not 
an inlet into new disquietudes. A mind too 
vigorous and active serves only to consiuiie 
the liody to which it is joined, as the richest 
jewels are soonest found to wear their settings. 

AVhen we rise in knowledge, as the prospect 
widens theoiijects of our regard become more 
obscure, and the uidettered peasant, whose 
views are oidy directed to the narrow sphere 
around him, iieholds Nature with a finer 
relish, and tastes her blessings with a keener 
ap[)etite, than the philosojiher whose mind 
attempts to grasp an universiil system. 

As I was some days ago piu'suing this sub- 
ject among a circle of my fellow-slaves, an 
ancient Guebre ' of the number, equally re- 
markaijle for his piety and wisdom, seemed 
touched with my conversation, and desired to 
illustrate what I had lieen saying with an 
allegory taken from the ' Zenda vesta' of Zo- 
roaster : — '• l}y this we sliall be taught," says 
he, '• that they who travel in pursuit of wis- 
dom walk only in a circle, and after all tlieir 
labour, at hist return to their ])ristine igno- 
rance; and in this also we shall see that en- 
thusiastic confidence or unsatisfying doubts 
terminate all our inquiries. 

" In early times. In-fore myriads of nations 
covered thet-arth, the whole human race lived 
together in one valley. The simjile inhaliit- 
anfs, surrounded on every side i)y lofty moun- 
tains, knew no other wi^rld but tlic little spot 
to which they were ronlined. Tlicy fancied 
the heavens bent down to meet tlie mountain 
tops, and formed an impenetrable wall tosur- 

' Oin; of llie sect of Fire worsliipiicrs in IVriia. 



round them. None had ever yet ventured to 
climb the steep clilf, in order to explore those 
regions that lay beyond it ; they knew the 
nature of the skies only from a tradition, 
which mentioned their being ma<le of ada- 
mant: traditions make up the reasonings of 
the simple, and serve to silence every iiujuiry. 
" In this sequestered vale, blessed with all 
the spontaneous ])roductions of Nature, the 
honeyed blossom, the refreshing breeze, the 
gliding brook, and golden fruitage, the simple 
inhabitants seemed happy in themselves, in 
each other; they desired no greater pleasure, 
for they knew of none greater; ambition, 
])ride, and envy, were vices unknown among 
them ; and from this peculiar simplicity of 
its possessors the country w;is called the Val- 
ley of Ignorance. 

" At length, however, an unhajipy youth, 
more aspiring than the rest, undertook to 
climb the mountain's side, and examine the 
smnmits which were liitherto deemed inacces- 
sible. The inlKii)itants from below gazed 
with wonder at his intrepidity; some ap- 
])laui(ed his courage, others censured his 
folly; still, however, he jiroceeded towards 
the place where the earth and heavens seemed 
to unite, and at lengtli arrived at the wished- 
for height, v.ith extreme labour and assiduity. 
•' His first surprise w;is to find the skies, 
not as h(! expected within his reach, but still 
as far off as before; his amazement increased 
when he saw a wide extended region lying on 
the ojjposite side of the mountain; but it rose 
to astt)nishment when he belield a country at 
a distance, more beautiful and alluring than 
that he had just left behind. 

" As he continued to gaze with wonder, a 
Genius, with a look of infinite modesty, ap- 



78 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



proaching, ofleied to be his guide and in- 
structor. ' Tlie distant country wliicli you so 
niuclia(imire," says the angelic being, ' is called 
the Land of Certainty : in that charming retreat, 
sentiment contributes to retine every sensual 
banquet; the inhabitants are blessed with 
every solid enjoyment, and still more blessed 
in a perfect consciousness of their own feli- 
city : ignorance in that country is wholly un- 
known; all there is satisfaction without alloy, 
for every pleasure first undergoes the examin- 
ation of reason. As for me, I am called the 
Genius of Demonstration, and am stationed 
here in order to conduct ever)' adventurer to 
that land of happiness through those inter- 
vening regions you see overhung with fogs 
and darkness, and horrid with forests, cata- 
racts, caverns, and various other shapes of 
danger. But follow me, and in time I may 
lead you to that distant desirable land of 
tranquillity.' 

" The intrepid traveller immediately put 
himself under the direction of the Genius, 
and both journeying on together with a slow 
but agreeable pace, deceived the tediousness 
of the way by conversation. The beginning 
of the jouniey seemed to promise true satis- 
faction, but as they jjroceeded forward, the 
skies became more gloomy and the way more 
intricate; they often inadvertently approached 
the brow of some frightful precipice, or the 
brink of a toiTent, and were obliged to mea- 
sure back their former way. The gloom in- 
creasing as they proceeded, tlieir pace became 
more slow ; they paused at every step, fre- 
quently stumbled, and their distrust and 
timidity increased. The Genius of Demon- 
stration now, therefore, advised his pupil to 
grope upon hands and feet, as a method, 
though more slow, yet less liable to error. 
, "• In this manner they attempted to pursue 
their journey for some time, when they were 
overtaken by another genius, who, with a 
precipitate pace, seemed travelling the same 
way. He was instantly known by the other 
to be the Genius of Probability. He wore 
two wide extended wings at his back, which 
incessantly waved, without increasing the 
rapidity of his motion ; his countenance be- 
tra}-ed a confidence that the ignorant might 
mistake for sincerity, and had but one eye, 
which was fixed in the middle of his forehead. 



" ' Servant of Hormizda,' cried he, ap- 
proaching the mortal pili<rim, ' if thou art 
travelling to the Land of Certainty, how is it 
possible to arrive there under the guidance of 
a genius who proceeds forward so slowly, and 
is so little acquainted with the waj'? Fol- 
low me; we shall soon perform the journey 
to where every pleasure waits our arrival.' 

" The peremptory tone in which this ge- 
nius spoke, and the speed with which he 
moved forward, induced the traveller to 
change his conductor, and, leaving his mo- 
dest companion behind, he proceeded forward 
with his more confident director, seeming not 
a little pleased at the increased velocity of 
his motion. 

'• But soon he found reasons to repent. 
Whenever a torrent crossed their way, his 
guide taught him to despise the obstacle by 
plunging him in ; whenever a precipice pre- 
sented, he was directed to fling himself for- 
ward. Thus each moment miraculously es- 
caping, his repeated escapes only served to 
increase his temerit}'. He led him therefore 
ibrward, amidst intinite difficulties, till they 
arrived at the borders of an ocean, which ap- 
jjeared unnavigable from the black mists that 
lay upon its surface. Its unquiet waves were 
of the darkest hue, and gave a lively repre- 
sentation of the various agitations of the hu- 
man mind. 

'• The Genius of Probability now confessed 
his temerity, owned his being an improper 
guide to the Land of Certainty, a country 
where no mortal had ever been permitted to 
arrive; but at the same timeotfered to supply 
the traveller with another conductor, who 
should carry him to the Land of Confidence, 
a region where the inhabitants lived with the 
utmost tranquillity, and tasted almost as 
much satisfaction as if in the Land of Cer- 
tainty. Not waiting for a reply, he stamped 
three times on the ground, and called forth 
the Demon of Error, a gloomy fiend of the 
servants of Arimanes. The yawning earth 
gave up the reluctant savage, who seemed 
unable to bear the light of the day. His 
stature was enormous, his colour black and 
hideous, his aspect betrayed a thousand vary- 
ing passions, and he spread forth pinions that 
were fitted for the most rapid Hight. The 
traveller at first was shocked at the spectre ; 



JUSTICE OF A BKITISII SENTENCE. 



79 



hut, fnidiri); him obedient to superior jwwer, 
he assumed his former tranquillity. 

" * 1 have called you to duty,' cries the 
genius to the demon, ' to l)ear on your hack 
a son ol' mortality over the Ocean of IJouhts 
into the Land of Conlidence; I exj)ect you 
will i)ert'orm your commission with punc- 
tuality. And as for you,' continued the 
genius, addressing the traveller, ' when once 
1 have bound this tillet round your eyes, let 
no voice of i)ersu;ision, nor threats the most 
terrifying, induce you to uid)ind it in order 
to look round ; keep the tillet fast, look not 
at the ocean below, and you may certainly 
expect to arrive at a region of pleasure.' 

" Thus saying, and the traveller's eyes be- 
ing covered, the demon, muttering curses, 
raised him on his back, and instantly up- 
borne by his strong pinions, directed his 
flight among the clouds. Neither tlie loudest 
thunder, nor the most angry li'ni])est, could 
j)ersuade the traveller to unbind his eyes. 
The demon directed Lis lliglil downwards, 



and skimmed the surface of the ocean; a 
thousand voices, some with loud invectives, 
others in the sarciLStic tones of contempt, 
vainly endeavounMl to ))ersuade him to look 
round; but he still continued to keep his eyes 
covered, and would, in all jjroliability, have 
arrived at the ha])py land, had not llattery 
efl'ected what other means could not perform. 
For now he heard hixnself welcomed on every 
side to the promised land, and an universal 
shout of joy was sent forth at his safe arrival. 
The wearied traveller, desirous of seeing the 
long-wished-for country, at length j)ulled the 
tillet from his eyes, and ventured to look 
round him. But he had vuiloosed the band 
too soon; he was not yet above half way over. 
The demon, who was still hovering in the air, 
and liad produced those sounds only in order 
to deceive, was now freed from his commis- 
sion; wherefore, throwing the astonished tra- 
veller from his back, tlie unhappy youth fell 
headlong into the subjacent Ocean of Doubts, 
from whence he never after was seen to rise.' 



LETTER XXXVIII. 

THE CHINESE I'HILOSOrilER PRAISES THE JUSTICE OF A LATE BRITISH SENTENCE. 
From Lien Chi Alfnngi, to Fum Hoam, Sfc. 



When Parmenio, ' the Grecian, had done 
something which excited an universal shout 
from the surromiding multitude, he was in- 
stantly struck with doubt that what hail 
their approbation must certainly be wrong; 
and, turning to a philosoplier who stood near 
him, "Pray, Sir," says he, '"pardon me; I 
fear I have been guilty of some absurdity." 

You know that I am not less than him a 
despiser of the multitude ; you know that I 
equally detest flattery to the great ; yet so 
many circumstances have concurred to give a 
lustre to the latter jjart of the present English 
monarch's reign, that I cannot withhold my 
contribution of praise ; I cannot avoid ac- 
knowledging the crowd, for once, just in 
their unanimous approbation. 

Vet think not tlie battles gaineil, dominion 
extended, or enemies brought to submission, 
are the virtues which at present claim my 
admiration. Were the reigning monarch 



only famous for his victories, I should regard 
his character with indifterence ; the boast of 
heroism in this enlightened age is justly 
regarded as a qualification of a very sub- 
ordinate rank, and mankind now begin to 
look with becoming horror on these foes to 
man. Tlie virtue in this aged monarch, 
which I have at present in view, is one of a 
mucli more exalted nature, is one the most 
ditWcult of attainment, is the least praised 
of all kingly virtues, and yet deserves the 
greatest praise; the virtue I mean is justice; 
a strict administration of justice, without 
severity and without favour. 

Of all virtues, this is the most difficult to 
be ))ractised l)y a king who has a power to 
pardon. All men, even tyrants themselves, 
lean to mercy when unbiassed by pjission or 
interest ; the heart naturally persuades to 
forgiveness, and ])iirsuing the dictates of 
this pleasing deceiver, we are led to prefer 



80 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



our private satisfaction to public utilit)% 
What a'thoroui;li love for the public, what a 
strong command over the passions, what a 
finely-conducted judgment must he possess, 
who opposes the dictates of reason to those 
of his heart, and jirefers tlie future interest 
of his people to his own immediate satis- 
faction ! 

If still to a man's own natural bias for 
tenderness we add the numerous solicitations 
made by a criminars friends for mercy ; if 
we survey a king not only opposing his own 
feelings, but reluctantly refusing tliose he 
regards, and this to satisfy the public, whose 
cries he may never hear, whose gratitude he 
may never receive — tiiis surely is true great- 
ness! Let us fancy ourselves for a moment 
in this just old man"s place, surrounded by 
numbers, all soliciting the same favour, a 
favour that nature disposes us to grant, where 
the inducements to i)ity are laid before us in 
the strongest light, suppliants at our feet, 
some ready to resent a refusal, none opposing 
a compliance ; let us, I say, suppose ourselves 
in such a situation, and I fancy we should 
find ourselves more apt to act the character 
of good-natuied men than of upright magis- 
trates. 

What contributes to raise justice above all 
other kingly virtues is, tliat it is seldom at- 
tended with a due share of applause, and 
those who practise it must be inlluenced by 
greater motives than empty fame : the people 
are generally well pleased with a remission 
of punishment, and all that wears the ap- 
pearance of humanity ; it is the wise alone 
who are capable of discerning that impartial 
justice is the truest mercy ; they know it to 
be very diliicult. at once to compassionate, 
and yet condemn an object that pleads for 
tenderness. 

I have been led into this common-place 
train of thought I13' a late striking instance 
in this country of the impartiality of justice, 
and of the king's inflexible resolution of 
inflicting punishment where it was justly 
due. A man of the first quality,' in a lit 



' Earl Ferrers, who munlered his steward in Ja- 
nuary, 1760. and was inianimously found f;uilty by 
the House of Lords. Petitions from his mother and 
family were presented to the King, who refused to 



either of passion, melancholy, or madness, 
murdered his servant : it was expected that 
his station in life would liave lessened the 
ignominy of his punishment; however, he 
was arraigned, condemned, and underwent 
the same degrading death with the meanest 
malefactor. It was well considered that 
virtue alone is true nobility ; and tliat he 
whose actions sink him even beneath the 
vidgar, has no right to those distinctions 
which should be the rewards oidy of merit : 
it was perhaps considered that crimes were 
more heinous among the higher classes of 
people, as necessity exjjoses them to fewer 
temptations. 

Over all the East, even China not ex- 
cepted, a person of the same quality guilty 
of such a crime might, by giving up a share 
of his fortune to the judge, buy oft' his 
sentence.^ There are several countries, even 
in Europe, where the servant is entirely the 
property of his master : if a slave kills his 
lord, he dies by the most excruciating tor- 
tures ; but if the circumstances are reversed, 
a small fine buys oft" the punishment of the 
ofl'ender. Happy the country where all are 
equal, and where those who sit as judges 
have too much integrity to receive a bribe, 
and too much honour to pity, from a simili- 
tude of the prisoner's title or circumstances 
with their own ! Such is England ; yet 
think not that it was always equally famed 
for its strict impartiality. There was a time, 
even here, when title softened the rigours of 
the law, when dignified wretches were suf- 
fered to live, and continue for years an equal 
disgrace to justice and nobility. 



interpose his prerogative in so flagrant a ease; and 
forbad any one bringing him messages from the un- 
happy nobleman. 

'■^ The number of blows attached to certain offences 
is, in freiiuent insUinces, commutable for a line. 
.\ccidental homicide is an oftenec e.vpiated by a 
tine of aliout 4/. to the relations of the deceased; 
but murder, under all oilier circumstances, is 
punished w itli strangling. Tliere are ten privileged 
classes who cannot be tried without reference to the 
Emperor. Relationship to the imperial line, or 
high character and station, are the grouudson which 
tliis privilege is claimed. For the government of 
this privileged order there is a court called " the 
Office of tiie Ancestral Tribe," which is wholly 
distinct from the Cliinese laws, and has its own 
usages. 



JUSTICE OF A imiTISlI SENTE^■CE. 



81 



To tliis day, in a neighbouring; country, 
t)ie jjrt-at are ui'len most scandalously par- 
liont'd lor the most scandalous oll'ences. A 
person is still alive anioufj tliem who has 
more than once deserved the most igno- 
minious severity of justice. His being of 
the blood royal, however, was thought a 
suflicient atonement for his being a disgrace 
to humanity. This remarkable jiersonage 
took ph'iisure in shooting at the ])assengers 
below, from the top of his palace ; and in 
this most j)rincely amusement he usually 
spent some time every day. He was at 
length arraigned by the friends of a person 
whom in this manner he had killed, was 
found guilty of the charge, and condemned 
to die. His merciful monarch jjardoned him 
in consideration of iiis rank and quality. 
The unre])enting criminal soon after renewed 
his usual entertainment, and in the same 
manner killed another man. He was a 
second time condemned ; and, strange to 



think, a second time received his majesty's 
pardon! Would you believe hi A third 
time the very same man wius guilty of the 
very same ofi'ence ; a third time, tlierefore, 
the laws of his country found him guilty. 
I wish for the honour of humanity I could 
suppress the rest : a third time he was par- 
doned !' Will you not think such a story 
too extraordinary for belief;' Will you not 
think me describing the savage inhabitants 
of Congo ? Alas ! the story is but too true, 
and the country where it was transacted 
regards itself as the politest in Eurojx' ! 
Adieu. 



' The person alluded lo was the Comte de Charo- 
lais, a iiriiiee of the lilood, in which station he was 
shieldeil from all the legal conseciuences of his 
atrocious conduct. Louis XV. is reported to have 
told him when he came to solicit letters of yraco 
for another wanton murder of a fellow-creature, 
that the pardon of w lioever should kill the Count 
himself would be more readily granted. 



82 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 




[Chinese Fop aiid Seivaiit. From Cliiiiese Paintings.] 



LETTER XXXIX. 



DESCRIPTION OF TRUE POLITENESS. TWO LETTERS OF DIFFERENT COUNTRIES, 

FALSELY THOUGHT POLITE AT HOME. 



BY LADIES 



From Lien Chi Altangi to * ' 

Ceremonies are different in every country ; 
but true politeness is every where the same. 
Ceremonies which take up so much of our 
attention, are only artificial lielps which ig- 
norance assumes in order to imitate politeness, 
which is the result of good sense and good- 
nature. A person possessed of those qualities, 
though he had never seen a court, is truly 
agreeable ; and if without them would con- 
tiime a clown, though he had been all his life 
a gentleman usher. 

How would a Chinese, bred up in the formal- 
ities of an Eastern Court, be regarded, should 
he carrj' all his good manners beyond the 
Great Wall ? How would an Englishman, 
skilled in all the decorums of Western good- 
breeding, appear at an Eastern entertainment : 
would he not be reckoned more fantastically 
savage than even his unbred footman ? 

Ceremony resembles that base coin which 
circulates through a countiy by the royal 
mandate ; it serves every purpose of real mo- 



' *, -Merchant in Amsterdam. 

ney at home, but is entirely useless if carried 
abroad : a person who should attempt to cir- 
culate his native trash in another country, 
would be thought either ridiculous or culpa- 
ble. He is truly well bred who knows when 
to value and when to despise those national 
peculiarities, which are regarded by some 
with so much observance : a traveller of 
taste at once perceives that the wise are po- 
lite all the world over, but that fools are polite 
only at home. 

I have now before me two very fashionable 
letters upon the same subject, botli written by 
ladies of distinction ; one of whom leads tlie 
fashion in England, and the other sets the 
ceremonies of China :^ they are both regarded 
in their respective countries by all the beau 



1 Tlie Board of Rites and Ceremonies at Pekiii 
directs the fashions in China, and Mr. I>avis says. 
that " to depai't materially fiom their ordinances 
would be considered as something worse than mere 
mauvais ton." 



TRUE POLITENESS. 



H3 



moiule as sUiiidarcU of taste aiid models of 
true (xilitt'iii'ss, ami both give us a true idea 
of what they imagine elegant in (heir ad- 
mirers : which ot" them understands true 
jwliteness, or whetlier eitlier, you sliall be 
at liberty to determine. The English lady 
writes thus to her female confidant : — 

Belinda to Charlotte. 

•• As I live, my dear Charlotte, I believe 
tlie Colonel will carry it at last ; he is a most 
irresistible fellow, that is flat. So well dressed, 
so neat, so sprightly, and plays about one so 
agreeably, that I vow he luis as much spirits 
as the Manpiis of Monkeyman's Italian grey- 
hound. I first saw liim at lianelagli ; he 
shines there : he is nothing without Uanelagh, 
and Uanelagh nothing without him.' The 
next day lie sent a card and compliments, 
desiring to wait on mamma and me to the 
music subscription. He looked all the time 
with such irresistible impudence, that posi- 
tively he had something in his face gave me 
ais much ])leasure as a jjair-royal of naturals 
in my own hand.^ He waited on mannna 
and me the next morning to know how we 
got home : you must know the insidious devil 
makes love to us both. Rap went the footman 
at tlie door ; bounce went my heart : I thought 

' Tliis famous place of public resort and amuse- 
meut iu the miildle of la.-it cciitur'. was projrcted as a 
ri\'al of Vauxluill, and opeued iu May 1*42. In one 
of Horace Walpolo's letters, dated April 22, 1742, he 
says, " I have been l)reakla^tiu^' this moruini; at 
Kanelagh. Tliey have built an immense amphi- 
theatre, with tialcouies lull of little ale houses. The 
buildin;^ is not tiuislieil, l)ut they Het LUeat sums by 
pe iple (,'oiDj; to see it and breakl'astins; in tlie house : 
tliere were yesterdiiy no less that :iwi persons, at 
I J. 6d." On the 2Gth of May he writes: "Two 
nights a-jo, Ranela;;!! Gardens were opened at (.Chel- 
sea : the I'rinee, I'rincess, much nobility, and much 
mob l)esides, were there. There is a vast amphi- 
theatre, freely ^'ilded, painted, and illuminated, into 
wliicli everybody tlial loves ealin;;, driuKiiii;, st;irin;;, 
ami crowding', is admitted lor 12(/. The building 
and disposition ol the tjardeus cost 16,IJ0()/." Mas- 
<|uerailes were frequently fjiven in the Hardens, at 
which (ieor^^e II. and hU Court were olteu present. 
In l"t)9, Walpole tjives an account of a "jubilee 
niasiiuerade " which w;is K'^cn herein celebration 
of the I'eace. It seems to have given e\ en a man of 
his fastidious taste gieat pleasure, and he speaks of 
it as " the prettiest tiling' 1 I'M-r saw." 

* An aUvanli»f,'eous point iu a game of card-play- 
iiijj called baiwet, whicli is now but little known. 



he would liave rattled the liouse down. Cha- 
riot drove \\\> to the winchiw. with liis footmen 
in the ])rettiest liveries : lie has infinite ta-ste, 
that is flat. Mamma had s])ent all the nnprn- 
ing at her head; but for my part, I wiis in 
an undress to receive him ; quite easy, mind 
that ; no way disturbed at his approach : 
mamma pretended to be as degayie as 1, and 
yet I saw her blush in spite of her. Posi- 
tively he is a most killing devil ! We did 
nothing but laugh all the time he staid with 
us; I never heard so many very good tilings 
before : at flrst he mistook mamma for my 
sister; at which she laughed: then he mis- 
took my natural complexion for paint ; at 
which I laughed ; and then he showed us a 
picture in the lid of his snuff-box, at which 
we all laughed. He plays picquet so very ill, 
and is so very fond of cards, and loses with 
such a grace, that positively he has won me ; I 
have got a cool hundred, but iiave lost my 
heart. I need not tell you that he is only a 
colonel of the train-banils. I am, dear Char- 
lotte, yours for ever, '• Belinda." 

The Chinese lady addresses her confidant, 
a poor relation of the family, upon the same 
occasion ; in which she seems to understand 
decorum even better than the Western beauty. 
You, who have resided so long in China, will 
readily acknowledge the picture to be taken 
from nature; and, by being acquainted with 
the Chinese customs, will better apprehend 
the lady's meaning. 

Yaoua to Yaya. 

" Papa insists upon one, two, three, four 
hinidred taels from the Colonel, my lover, 
before he parts with a lock of my hair ! Oh, 
liow I wish the dear creature may be ai)le to 
])roduce the money, and pay pa])a my for- 
tune.3 The Colonel is reckoned the politest 
man in all Sheiisi. The first visit he paid at 
our liouse, mercy ! what stoojiing. and cring- 
ing, and stopping, and fidgeting, and going 
back, and creeping forward, there was between 

•^ Marriages amongst the Chinese are preceded by 
a negociation, comhu'tcd by iiulivirluals selected by 
the parents. Presents are sfut by the bridegroom in 
ratilication of the union; but llie bride, inordinary 
cases, brings neither presents nor dower to her hus- 
band. 

g2 



84 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



him and papa ; one would have thou(^ht he 
had !^ot tlie seventeen books of ceremonies all 
hy heart. > AVhen he was come into the hall 
he flourished his hands three times in a very 
graceful manner. Papa, who would not be 
outdone, flourished his four times ; upon this 
the Colonel began again, and both thus con- 
tintied flourishing for some minutes in the 
politest manner imaginable. I was posted in 
the usual place behind the screen, where I saw 
tlie whole ceremony through a slit. Of this 
tlie Colonel was sensible, for papa informed 
him. I would have given the world to have 
shown him my little shoes, but had no oppor- 
tunity. It was the first time I had ever the 
happiness of seeing anj' man but papa,* and 
I vow, my dear Yaya, I thought my three 
souls would actually have fled from my lips. 
Oh ! but he looked most charmingly ; he is 
reckoned the best-shaped man in the whole 
province, for he is very fat and very short ; 
but even those natural advantages are im- 
proved by his dress, which is fashionable past 
description. His head was close shaven, all but 
the crown, and the hair of that was braided 
into a most beautiful tail, that reached down 
to his heels, and was terminated Ijy a bunch 
of yellow roses.^ Upon his first entering the 

1 The ceremonial usages prescribed by the ' Book 
ol' Rites ' are commonly estimated to amount to three 
thousand. Mr. Ellis, who was one of Lord Jlacart- 
iiey's Embassy, describes the eeremouies of saluta- 
tion wliioh were paid to the mandarins who accnm- 
panied it. " Tliey were always very ludicrous and 
often very servile. ^^ here tlie difterence of rank was 
small, the inferior contented liimself with a slii;lit 
curtsy and the usual cliitic/nn, which is performed 
by clasping the hands and moving them up and down 
before the breast ; but where it was great, he made 
a succession of what riiight l-e called running curt- 
sies : moving rapidly towards his superior, he per- 
formed as many genuflexions as possible in a given 
time. They were sometimes so low that I was sur- 
prised how he could keep his legs while making 
them." 

^ During tlie negociations for a marriage, the two 
parties chiefly interested do not see each other ; but 
it is not true in practice tliat the bridegroom has never 
in any case seen his intended wife before the day of 
marriage ; and though there is not much social inter- 
course between the sexes, their separation is iiotliing 
like that complete isolation which takes place iii 
some other parts of Asia. 

^ Before the Tartar conquest, the men prided 
themselves on nothing more than the luxuriance, 
bl.-ickness, and length of their hair. All this, how- 
ever, was changed at the conquest of the empire, for 
the Tartars holding in abhorrence long hair on the 



room, I could easily perceive he had been 
highly jierfumed with assafoetida. But then 
liis h)oks, his looks, my dear ^ aya, were irre- 
sistil)le. He kept his eyes stedfastly fixed on 
the wall during the whole ceremony, and I 
sincerely believe no accident could have dis- 
composed his gravity, or drawn his eyes away. 
After a polite silence of two hours, he gallantly 
begged to have the singing women introduced, 
purely for my amusement. After one of them 
had for some time entertained us with her 
voice, the Colonel and she retired for some 
miimtes together. I thought they would 
never have come back ; I must own he is a 
most agreeable creature. Upon his return, 
they again renewed the concert, and he con- 
titmed to gaze upon the wall as usual, when, 
in less than half an hour more, oh ! but he 
retired out of the room with another. He is 
indeed a most agreeable creature. 

" When he came to take his leave, the 
whole ceremony began afresh ; papa would 
see him to the door, but the Colonel swore he 
would rather see the earth turned upside down 
than permit him to stir a single step, and papa 
was at last obliged to comply. As soon as 
he was got to the door, papa went out to see 
him on horseback : here they continued half 
an hour bowing and cringing, before one 
would mount or the other go in, but the Colo- 
nel was at last victorious. He had scarce 
gone a hundred paces from the house, when 
papa, running out, halloo'd after him, ' A 
good journey !" upon which the Colonel re- 
turned, and would see papa into his house 
before ever he would depart. He was no 
sooner got home than he sent me a very fine 
present of duck-eggs, painted of twenty dif- 
ferent colours. His generosity I own has won 
me. I have ever since been trying over the 
eight letters of good fortune,* and have great 

head of a man, ordered the Chinese to cut theirs off; 
and the tyrannical law was the cause of insurrections 
and bloodshed. The men now sluvve their heads, 
leaving only a small circle near the crown, whence 
some hair descends in a long tail or c|ueue. 

■* Mr. Davis says that the eight mystical diagramsof 
Fo-hy , of which the Chinese make use in divination, 
bear some resemblance to the mystical numbers of 
Pythagoras. These diagrams, cut in stone, are often 
worn as charms, and they are dejiicted on tlie Chi- 
nese mariners' compass. In spite of the lofty mean- 
ing attributed to them, the only intelligible uso made 
of them is in fortune-telling or divination. 



ENGLISH POETS. 



K5 



hopes. All I have to apprehend is, that after 
he h:u< inarrieil ine, and that I am carried to 
liis house close shut up in my chair, when he 
comes to have the first sight of my face, he 
may shut me up a seconil time and send me 
hack to pa])a. However, I shall ajipcar as 
line as jwssilile; mamma ami I have iieen to 
Ijuy the clothes for my wedding. I am to 



have a new /""iir/ hoaiiy in my hair,' tlie 
beak of which will reach down to my nose ; 
the milliner from whom we bought tliat and 
our ribbons cheated us as if she had no con- 
science, and so to quiet mine I cheated lier. 
All tliis is i'air you know. I remain, my 
dear Yaya, your ever faithful V'aoua." 



LETTER XL. 

THE ENGLISH STILL HAVE POETS, THOUGH NOT VERSIFIEKS. 

From the Same. 



'\'oL' liave always testified the highest esteem 
for the English ])oets, and thought them not 
inferior to the Greeks, Romans, or even the 
Chinese in the art. But it is now thought, even 
iiy the English themselves, that the race of 
their ])oets is extinct; every day produces 
some pathetic exclamation upon the decadence 
of ta.ste and genius. Pegasus, say they, has 
slipped the bridle from his mouth, and our 
modem l)ards attempt to direct his flight by 
catching him by the tail. 

Vet. my friend, it is only among the igno- 
rant that such discourses ])revail; men of 
true discernment can see several poets still 
among the English, some of whom equal if 
not 3uq)ass their predecessors.^ The igno- 
rant term that alone jwetry whicli is couched 
in a certain numi)er of syllal)les in every line ; 
where a vapid thought is drawn out into a 
number of verses of equal length, and perhaps 
pointed with rhymes at the end. I}ut glow- 
ing sentiment, striking imagery, concise ex- 
pression, natural description, and modulated 
periods, are fully sufKcient entirely to till up 

' Tlie luiir of women, unaffected by Tart;ir preju- 
dice, is iill()\V(?d to i^ow in all its liixuriaiiec, and they 
have the art of <lre»sini; it to sjreat a(lvanla;,'e. Mr. 
Davis says that tlie putting up of the hair is one of 
the ceremonies preparatory tn marriaire. It is 
twisted up towards the iKick of the licail, oruimeiiti-d 
with flow ITS or jewels, and fastenfcl with two hud- 
kins stuck in crosswise. They saniftimcs wx-ar an 
omaraunt representing' the foon^'-hoan^', or Chinese 
phuenix, eomposeil of i;old and jewels, the win^ ho- 
veriui;. and the iK-ak of the bird hanging over the 
foreheail, on an elastic sprin;;. 

* The poets of tin; day were Johnson, Youn^', Gray, 
Collins, Sl,xsi>n, Akenside, .\rmstroni;, and Cjlovcr. 



my idea of this art, and make way to every 
passion. 

If my idea of poetry therefore be just, the 
English are not at present so destitute of 
poetical merit as they seem to imagine. I 
can see several poets in disguise among them ; 
men furnished with that strength of soul, sub- 
limity of sentiment, and grandeur of expres- 
sion, which constitutes the character. Many 
of the writers of their modern odes, sonnets, 
tragedies, or rebuses, it is true, deserve not the 
name, though they have done nothing but 
clink rhymes and measure syllables for years 
together : their Johnsons and Smollets are 
truly poets ; though for aught I know they 
never made a single verse in their whole lives. 

In every incipient language, the poet and 
the prose writer are very distinct in their qua- 
lifications: the poet ever proceeds first; tread- 
ing unbeaten paths, enriching his nativefunds, 
and em))h)yed in new adventures. The other 
follows with more cautious steps, and though 
slow in his motions, tre;isures up every useful 
or pleasing discovery. But when once all the 
extent and the force of the language is known, 
the poet then seeius to rest froiu his labour, 
and is at length overtaken by his assiduous 
pursuer. Both characters are then blended 
into one; the historian and orator catch all 
the poet's fire, and leave liim no real mark of 
distinction, except the iteration of numbers 
regularly returning. Thus in the decline of 
ancient European learning, Seneca, though 
he wrote in prose, is ;is much a ])oet as Lucan, 
and Longinus, though Imt a critic, more sub- 
lime than Apollonius. 



86 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



From this, then, it appears that poetry is not 
discontinued, but .altered among tlie English 
at present ; the outward form seems ditTerent 
frDni what it was, but ])oetry still continues 
internally the same : the only question remains, 
whether the metric feet used by the good 
writers of the last age, or the prosaic numbers 
enijiloyed by the good writers of this, be pre- 
ferable ? And here the practice of the last 
age appears to me superior: they submitted 
to the restraint of numbers and similar sounds ; 
and this restraint, instead of diminishing, aug- 
mented the force of their sentiment and style. 
Fancy restrained may be compared to a foun- 
tain which plays highest by diminishing the 
aperture. Of the tiutli of this maxim in 
every language, every fine writer is perfectly 
sensible from his own experience, and yet to 
explain the reason woidd be perhaps as diffi- 
cult as to make a frigid genius prolit by the 
discovery. 

There is still another reason in favour of 
the practice of the last age, to be drawn from 
tlie variety of modulation. The musical pe- 
riod ill prose is confined to a very few changes; 
tiie numbers in verse are capable of infinite 



variation. I speak not now from the practice 
of modern verse-writers, few of whom have 
any idea of musical variety, but run on in 
the same monotonous (low through the whole 
poem, but ratlier from the example of their 
former poets, who were toleralde masters of 
this variety, and also from a capacity in the 
language of still admitting various unantici- 
pated music. 

Several rules have been drawn up for vary- 
ing the poetic measure, and critics have ela- 
borately talked of accents and syllaVjles ; but 
good sense and a tine ear, which rules can 
never teach, are what alone can in such a case 
determine. The rapturous flowings of joy, or 
the interruptions of indignation, require ac- 
cents placed entirely different, and a structure 
consonant to the emotions they would express. 
Changing passions, and numbers changing 
with those passions, make the whole secret of 
western as well as eastern poetry. In a word, 
the great faults of the mocleni professed Eng- 
lish poets are, that they seem to want numbers 
which should vary with the passion, and are 
more employed in describing to the imagina- 
tion than striking at the heart. 



CONGREGATION IN ST. PAUL'S CATHEDRAL, 



S7 








» ^ lEIS 



[St. I'aul's. North l-'ront.] 



LETTER XLI. 

THE BEHAVIOIR OF THE CONGREGATION IN ST. PAUL's CATHEDRAL AT PRAYERS. 

From the Same, 



•Some time since, I sent thee, O lioly dis- 
ciple of Confucius, an account of tlic grand 
abbey or mausoleum of the kings and heroes 
of this nation. I have since been introduced 
to a temple not so ancient, but far superior 
in beauty and magnificence. In this, which 
is the most considerable of the empire, there 
are no pompous inscri])tions, no flattery paid 
the dead, but all is elegant and awfully 
simple.' There are, however, a few rags 
hung round the walls, which have, at a 
vast expense, been taken from the enemy in 
the present war. The silk of which they are 
composed, when new, might l)e valued at 
half a string of copper money in China ; 

' There ha\e siucebccn erected thirty-three monii- 
mcnU, at a cost to the public of 100,800/. Une of the 
first was the monument to Lord Rodnev. 



yet this wise people fitted out a fleet and an 
army in order to seize them ; though now 
grown old, and scarcely capable of being 
patched n\i into a handkercliief. IJy this 
conquest tlie English are said to have gained, 
and the French to have lost, much honour. 
Is the honour of European nations placed 
oidy in tattered silk ?2 

In this temple I was pennitted to remain 
during the whole service; and were you not 
already accpiainted with the religion of the 
English, you might, from my descri])tion, be 
inclintil to believe them as grossly idolatrous 
as the disciples of Lao. The idol which 
they seem to address strides like a colossus 



' Mr. Davis says that the Chinese, " like the 
Romans, worship their military flags and banners." 



88 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



over the door of the inner tem])le, which 
here, as with the Jews, is esteemed tlie most 
sacred part of the buihling. Its oracles are 
delivered in a hundred various tones, which 
seem to inspire the worshippers with enthu- 
siasm and awe : an old woman who appeared 
to be the priestess, was employed in various 
attitudes, as she felt the inspiration. When 
it began to speak, all the people remained 
fixed in silent attention, nodding assent, 
looking approbation, appearing highly edi lied 
by those sounds which, to a sh-anger, might 
seem inarticulate and unmeaning. 

When the idol had done speaking, and 
the priestess had locked up its lungs with a 
key, observing almost all the company leaving 
the temple, I concluded the service was over, 
and taking my hat, was going to walk away 
with the crowd, when I was stopjjed by the 
man in black, who assured me that the cere- 
mony had scarcely yet begun. "What!" 
cried I, '' do I not see almost the whole body 
of the worshippers leaving the church ? 
Would you persuade me that such numbers 
who profess religion and morality, would, in 
this shameless manner, quit the temple before 
the service was concluded ? You surely 
mistake : not even the Kalmucks would be 
guilty of such an indecency, though all the 
object of their worship was but a joint stool." 
My friend seemed to blush for his country- 
men, assuring me that those whom I saw 
running away were only a parcel of musical 
blockheads, whose passion was merely for 
sounds, and whose heads are as empty as a 
fiddle-case : " Those who remain behind," 
says he, '' are the true religious ; they make 
use of music to warm their hearts, and to lift 
them to a proper pitch of rapture : examine 
their behaviour, and you will confess there are 
some among us who practise true devotion." 

I now looked round me as he directed, 
but saw nothing of that fervent devotion 
which he had promised : one of the wor- 
shippers appeared to be ogling the company 
through a glass ; another was fervent in his 
addresses, not to heaven, but to his mistress ; 
a third whispered, a fourth took snulf, and 
the priest himself, in a drowsy tone, read 
over the duties of the day.' 

1 In a correspondence which took place in 1837, 
betwcpn the Secretary of State and the Dean and 



•' Bless my eyes," cried I, as I happened to 
look towards the door, " what do I see? one 
of the worsliippers fallen fast asleep, and 
actually smik down on his cushion ! He is 
now enjoying the benefit of a trance; or does 
he receive the influence of some mysterious 
vision?" "Alas! alas!" replied my com- 
panion, " no such thing ; he has only had 
the misfortune of eating too hearty a dinner, 
and finds it impossible to keep his eyes open." 
Turning to another part of the temple, I 
perceived a young lady just in the same 
circumstances and attitude : " Strange," cried 
I; "can she too have over-eaten herself!" 
" O fie!" replied my friend, " you now grow 
censorious. She grow drowsy from eating 
too much ! that would be profanation. She 
oidy sleeps now, from having sat up all night 
at a brag party." " Turn me where I will 
then," says I, *' I can perceive no single 
symptom of devotion among the worshippers, 
except from that old woman in the corner, 
who sits 'groaning behind the long sticks of 
a mourning fan ; she indeed seems greatly 
edified with what she hears." " Ay," re- 



Chapter of St. PauVs, on granting to the people free 
admittance to national buildings and museums, it 
was stated by one of the Chapter, tliat "if the doors 
of St. Paul's were flung open, the church would be- 
come, as it has been in times past, a place of assigna- 
tion for all the worst characters, male and female, 
in the metropolis : it would he a Royal Exchange 
for wickedness as the other Royal Exchange is for 
commerce." In compliance witli the desire of the 
Secretary of State, some relaxation had been intro- 
duced in the rules for admission, and the conse- 
quences are thus descrilied: " We sec beggars, men 
with burthens, women knitting, parties eating lun- 
cheon ; dogs ; children playing ; loud laughing and 
tittering, and every kind of scene incompatible with 
tlie solemnity of public worship. On one side of a 
line the congregation are praying ; on the other is all 
the indecorum and tumult of a London mob." 
There may perhaps be a little exaggeration in this 
account ; but the English people have been so long 
systematically excluded from public institutions, to 
whicli admission could only be obtained for money, 
that some time must elapse before their taste and 
habits enable them to entertain a proper relisli for 
the monuments, works of ai't, and other interesting 
objects wiiich they contain. The deportment of the 
crow ds who resort to the British Museum on holidays 
( for that institution is now very properly opened on 
such occasions) is highly creditable, and contra.sts 
most favourably with the conduct of the same classes 
thirty- years ago. Out of 20,359 persons who visited 
the Museum on Easter Monday, 1839, only one 
instance occurred of any attempt at handling. 



HISTOKY OF t'HINA. 



R9 



plieil my friend, '"I knew we should lind 
some to catch you ; I know her ; that is the 
deaf hidy who lives in the cloisters." 

In short, the remissness of behaviour in 
almost all the worshippers, and some even of 
the guardians, struck me with sur])rise ; I 
had heeii taught to believe that none were 
ever jiromoted to oflices in the temple but 
men remarkable for their superior sanctity, 
learning, and rectitude ; that there was no 
such thing heard of as persons being intro- 
duced into the church merely to oblige a 



senator, or jjrovide for a younger liranch of a 
noble family. I expected, as their minds 
were continually set upon heaveidy things, 
to see their eyes directed there also, and 
hoped from their beliaviour to perceive their 
inclinations corresponding with their duty. 
Hut I am since iidurmed that some are 
a])pointed to preside over teni])les they never 
visit; and, while they receive all the money, 
are contented with letting others do all the 
good. Adieu. 



LETTER XLII. 

THE HISTORY OF CHINA MORE REPLETE WITH GREAT ACTIONS THAN THAT OF EUUOPE. 

From Fum Hoani to Lien Chi Altangi. 



Must I ever contiime to condemn thy 
perseverance, and blame that curiosity which 
destroys thy happiness ? What yet untasted 
banquet, what luxury yet unknown, has re- 
warded thy j)ainful adventures ? Name a 
pleasure which thy native country could not 
amply procure ; frame a wish that might not 
have been satisfied in China. Why then 
such toil, and such danger, in pursuit of 
raptures within your reach at home? 

The Europeans, you say, excel us in 
sciences and in arts ; those sciences which 
bound the aspiring wish, and those arts 
which tend to gratify even unresti-ained 
desire. They may perhajis outdo us in the 
arts of building shi])s, casting cannons, or 
measuring mountains ; Ijut are they su])erior 
in the greatest of all arts, tlie art of governing 
kingdoms and ourselves f 

M'iien I compare the history of China 
with that of Eurojie, how do I exult in being 
a native of that kingdom which derives its 
original from the sun ! Upon opening the 
Chinese history, I there behold an ancient 
extended empire, established by laws which 
nature and reason seem to have dictated. 
The duty of children to their parents, a 
iluty which nature im))lants in every breast, 
forms the strength of tliat government which 
has sul)sisted for time immemorial.' Filial 

' I'areiitjil authority U the foundiitiDn ami lyi)c of 
I>oUtical power. Iq tlio books of ' Sacred Instruction' 



oljedience is the first and greatest requisite of 
a state : by this we l)ecome good subjects to 
our em])erors, capai)le of l)ehaving with just 
subordination to our superiors, and grateful 
dependants on heaven : by this we become 
fonder of man'iage, in order to be capable 
of exacting obedience from others in our 
turn : by this we become good magistrates ; 
for early submission is the truest lesson to 
those who would learn to rule. Hy this the 
whole state may be saiil to resemble one 
family, of which tlie emperor is the protector, 
lather, and friend. 

In this happy region, sequestered from the 
rest of mankind, I see a succession of princes 
who in general considered themselves as the 
fathers of their people ; a race of philosophers 
who bravely combated iilolatry, prejudice, 
and tyranny, at the expense of their private 



which are read pviblicly on certain days by the ma- 
tistrates, political duties are compared with the 
dutii'S of lilial love, which is the virtiu' held in the 
Iii;,'hest cstimatiim; and on wliich all others arc 
founded, .iccnrding to the notions of the Chinese. 
Not to be orderly, to be unl'aitht'ul to the Kmperor, 
to neglect the duties of maL'istrates, or soldiers, and 
to be unmindful of the claims of neighbours, are all 
compare<l in the 'Sacred Hooks' to want of filial 
duty. The late Emperor punished with extraordinary 
severity a ciusi- of disobedience and filial iuirratitude ; 
and aildressin^' himself to his milliins of sulijecls in 
reference to this act. sjiid, " 1 intend to render the 
empire faithful." Tin- pijnalty for striking parentis 
or for cursing them is death. 



90 



CITIZKN OF THE WORLD. 



happiness and immediate reputation. \\'1k'ii- 
ever an nsiirper or a tyrant intruded into the 
adniinislration, liow have all the good and 
great been united against him ! Can Euro- 
]tean history produce an instance like that of 
the twelve mandarins, who all resolved to 
a))prise tlie vicious Emperor Tisiang of the 
irregularity of his conduct? He who first 
undertook the dangerous task was cut in two 
by the Emperor's order ; tlie second was or- 
dered to he tormented, and tlien put to a cruel 
death; the third undertook the task with in- 
trepidity, and was instantly stabbed by the 
tyrant's hand : in this manner they all sufi'ered, 
except one. Bvit, not to be turned from his 
purpose, the brave survivor entering the palace 
with the instrument of torture in his hand, 
" Here," cried he, addressing himself to the 
throne, " here, O Tisiang, are the marks your 
faithful subjects receive for their loyalty ; I 
am wearied with serving a tyrant, and now 
come for my reward." The Emperor, struck 
with his inti-epidity, instantly forgave the bold- 
ness of his conduct, and reformed his own. 
What European annals can boast of a tyrant 
thus reclaimed to lenity ? 

When five brethren had set upon the great 
Emperor Ginsong alone, with his sabre he slew 
four of them ; he was struggling with the fifth, 
when his guards coming up, were going to cut 
the conspirator into a tliousand pieces. " No, 
no," cried the Emperor, with a calm and pla- 
cid countenance, " of all his brothers he is 
the only one remaining ; at least let one of the 
family be suffered to live, that his aged pa- 
rents may have somebody left to feed and 
comfort them. " 

When Haitong, the last Emperor of the 
House of Ming, saw himself besieged in his 
own city by the usurper, he was resolved to 
i.ssue from his palace with six hundred of his 
guards, and give the enemy battle ; but they 
forsook him. Being thus without hopes, and 
chot)sing death rather than to fall alive into 
the hands of a rebel, he retired to his garden, 
conducting his little daughter, an only child, 
in his hand ; there, in a private arbour, un- 
sheathing his sword, he stabbed the young 
innocent to the heart, and then despatching 
himself, left the following words written 
with his blood on the border of his vest: 
" Forsaken by my subjects, abandoned by my 



friends, use my body as you will, i)ut s])are, 
O s]iare my people !" 

An empire which has thus continued inva- 
riably the same for such a long succession of 
ages ; which, though at last conquered by the 
Tartars, still preserves its ancient laws and 
learning, and may more properly he said to 
annex the dominions of Tartary to its empire 
than to admit a foreign conrpieror; an empire 
as large as Europe, governed by one law, 
acknowledging subjection to one Prince, and 
experiencing liut one revolution of any con- 
tinuance in the space of four thousand years : 
this IS something so peculiarly great, that I 
am naturally led to despise all other nations 
on the comparison. Here we see no religious 
persecutions, no enmity between mankind for 
difference in opinion. The disciples of Lao- 
keun, the idolatrous sectaries of Fohi, and the 
philosophical children of Confucius, only 
strive to show by their actions the truth of 
their doctrines. 

Now turn from this hajipy peaceful scene 
to Europe, the theatre of intrigue, avarice, and 
ambition. How many revolutions does it not 
experience in the compass even of one age ! 
and to what do these revolutions tend but the 
destruction of thousands ? Every great event 
is replete with some new calamity. The sea- 
sons of serenity are passed over in silence, 
their histories seem to speak only of the storm. 

There we see the Romans extending their 
power over barbarous nations, and in turn he- 
coming a prey to those whom they had con- 
quered. We see those barbarians, when 
become Christians, engaged in continual war 
with the followers of Mahomet ; or more 
dreadful still, destroying each other. We see 
councils in the earlier ages authorising every 
iniquity ; crusades spreading desolation in the 
country left, as well as that to be conquered ; 
excommuiucations freeing subjects from na- 
tural allegiance, and persuading to sedition : 
blood flowing in the fields and on scaffolds ; 
tortures used as arguments to convince the 
recusant : to heighten the horror of the piece, 
behold it shaded with wars, rebellions, trea- 
sons, ))lots, politics, and poison. 

And what advantage has any counti-y of 
Europe obtained from such calamities '? 
Scarcely any. Their dissensions for more 
than a thousand years have served to make 



surrosED death ov voitaikk. 



91 



each other imhappy, hut have enriched none. 
All the irreat nations still nearly preserve their 
ancient limits; none have lieen ahlc to siih- 
(Inc the other and so terminate the disjjute. 
France, in spite of the conquests of Edward 
the third and Henry the fifth, notwithstand- 
ing the efl'orts of Charles the tifth and I'liilip 
the second, still remains within its ancient 
limits. Spain, Germany, (ireat Britain. Po- 
land,* the states of the north, are nearly still the 
same. What efVect, then, has the hlood of so 
many thousands, the destruction of so many 
cities, produced ? Nothing either great or 
considerahle. The Christian Princes have 
lost indeed much from the enemies of Christ- 
endom, but they have gained nothing from 
each other. Their Princes, because they pre- 



ferred ambition to justice, deserve the charac- 
ter of enemies to mankind ; and their jiriests, 
l)y neglecting morality for opinion, have 
mistaken the interests of society. 

On whatever side we regard the history of 
Europe, we shall perceive it to be a tissue of 
crimes, follies, and misfortunes; of politics 
without design, and wars without conse- 
quence : in this long list of human infirmity, 
a great character, or a shining virtue may 
sometimes happen to arise, as we often meet a 
cottage or a cultivated spot, in the most hide- 
ous wilderness. But for an Alfred, iin Al- 
])honso, a Frederic, or an Alexander the ' 
third, we meet a thousand Princes who have 
disgraced humanity. 



LETTER XLIII. 



AN APOSTROPHE ON THE SUPPOSED DEATH OF VOLTAIRE. 

From Lien Chi Altangi to Fum Hoam, 8fC. 



We have just received accounts here that 
Voltaire, the poet and jjhilosopher of Europe, 
is dead. 2 He is now beyond the reach of 
the thousand enemies who, while living, de- 
graded his writings, and branded his cha- 
racter. Scarcely a page of his latter produc- 
tions that does not betray the agonies of a 
heart bleeding under the scourge of unme- 
rited reproach. Happy, therefore, at last in 
escaping from calumny — happy in leaving a 
world that was unworthy of him and his 
writings."* 

Let others, my friend, bestrew the hearses 
of the great with panegyric ; but such a loss 

• The first partition of Poland took place in 1772. 

* Voltiirc (li.'il on the 30tli May, 1778; and the 
rumour was tlicrcfore untrue. 

•* The warmth of tliis pauet.'^ric may perhaps be 
accounted for liy fioldsmitli haviui^ Iwcn introduced 
to Volt;iire at I'aris in 1700. The year before this 
letter appeared a ' l.ife of VolUiire' wjls written by 
Goldsmitli, who thouu'ht liyhtly enouyli of tlie pro- 
duction, which he termed a " cattrh-penny." It oc- 
cupied him four weeUs, and he received 20/. for the 
manuscript. 'Ihou^ih inti-ndi'd for scp.arate publici- 
tion, it never aY>pi'ared in any otlier form tlian in 
dct.ichcd portions in the ' Lady's Magazine ' for 
1761, where, afU-r a long search, Mr. I'rior found it. 



as the world has now suffered afi'ects me with 
stronger emotions. When a philosopher dies, 
I consider myself as losing a patron, an in- 
structor, and a friend. I consider the world 
as losing one who might serve to console her 
amidst the desolations of war and ambition. 
Nature every day produces in abundance 
men capal)le of tilling all the requisite duties 
of authority ; but she is niggard in the birth 
of an exalted mind, scarcely proilucing in a 
century a single genius to bless and enlighten 
a degenerate age. Prodigal in the ])roduction 
of kings, governors, mandarins, chams, and 
coin-tiers, she seems to have forgotten, for 
more than three thousand years, the manner 
in which she once formed the brain of a Con- 
fucius ; and well it is she has forgotten, when 
a bad world gave him so very bad a recep- 
tion. 

Whence, my friend, this malevolence 
which has ever pursued the great even to the 
tomb? Whence this more than fiend-like 
disposition of embittering the lives of those 
who would make us more wise and more 
hajipy? 

\V hen I cast my eye over the fates of se- 



92 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



veral philosophers, who have at (linVreiit 
periods enlighteneil niankiiul, F niust conless 
it inspires me with the most degrading re- 
ilectioiis i>n himianity. When I read of 
the stripes of IMencius, the tortures of Tchin, 
tlie bowl of Socrates, and the bath of Se- 
neca; when I hear of the persecutions of 
Dante, the imprisonment of Galileo, the in- 
dignities sulVered by Montaigne, the banisli- 
ment of Cartesins, the intamy of Bacon, and 
that even Locke himself escaped not without 
reproach — when I think on such subjects, I 
hesitate whether most to blame the ignorance 
or the villany of my fellow-creatures. 

Should you look for the character of ^'ol- 
taire among the journalists and illiterate 
writers of the age, you will there fmd him 
cliaracterised as a monster, with a head 
turned to wisdom, and a heart inclined to 
vice ; the powers of his mind and the base- 
ness of his principles forming a detestable 
contrast. But seek for his character among 
writers like himself, and you find him very 
ditlerently described. You perceive him, in 
their accounts, possessed of good-nature, hu- 
manity, greatness of soul, fortitude, and al- 
most every virtue : in this description, those 
who might be supposed best acquainted with 
his character are unanimous. The royal 
Prussian.' d'Argens,"^ Diderot,^ d'Alembert, 
and Fontenelle, conspire in drawing the pic- 
ture, in describing the friend of man, and the 
j)atron of every rising genius. 

An inflexible perseverance in what he 
thought was right, and a generous detesta- 
tion of flattery, formed the groundwork of this 
great man's character. From these principles 
many strong virtues and few faults arose : as 
he was warm in his friendship, and severe in 
his resentment, all that mention him seem 

1 In the ' Philosophe Sans Souci.' The character 
of Frederic the Great was appreciated at the time tliis 
was written by l)ut a few individuals. The poet 
Gray, in a letter dated .lune 22nd, 1760, says, the 
town are reading the King of Prussia's poetry, 
the ' Philosophe Sans Souci,' which he calls the 
" crambe-recocta of our worst freethinkers tossed 
up in French rhyme." Walpole, in a letter of the 
7th of May in tlie same year, says that it does not 
contain a new thought, or an old one newly ex- 
pressed. 

^ Author of the ' I-ettres Chinoises.' 

^ Diderot, projector, and for some time sole editor, 
of the ' Encyclopedic.' 



possessed of the same qualities, and speak of 
him witli ra])ture or detestation. A person of 
his eminence can liave few indilVerent as to 
liis character — every reader must be an enemy 
or an admirer. 

This poet began the course of glory so early 
as the age of eighteen, and even then was au- 
tlior of a tragedy* which deserved applause. 
Possessed of a small patrimony, he preserved 
his independence in an age of venality, and 
sup))orted the dignity of learning, by teacli- 
ing his contemporary writers to live like him, 
above the favours of the great. He was ba- 
nished his native country for a satire upon 
tlie royal concubine. He had accepted the 
place of historian to the French king, but re- 
fused to keep it when he found it was pre- 
sented only in order that he should be the first 
flatterer of the state. 

The great Prussian received him as an or- 
nament to his kingdom, and had sense enough 
to value his friendship, and profit by his in- 
structions. In this court he continued till an 
intrigue, with which the world seems hitherto 
unacquainted, obliged him to quit that coun- 
try. His own hapjjiness, the happiness of the 
monarch, of his sister, of a part of the court, 
rendered his departure necessary. 

Tired at length of courts, and all the fol- 
lies of the great, he retired to Switzerland, a 
country of liberty, where he enjoyed tranquil- 
lity and the muse. Here, though without any 
taste for magnificence himself, he usually en- 
tertained at his table the learned and polite 
of Europe, who were attracted by a desire of 
seeing a person, from whom they had received 
so much satisfaction. The entertainment 
was conducted with the utmost elegance, and 
the conversation was that of philosophers. 
Every country that at once united liberty 
and science was his peculiar favourite. The 
being an Englishman was to him a character 
that claimed admiration and respect. 

Between Voltaire and the disciples of Con- 
fucius there are many differences ; however, 
being of a dilVerent opinion does not in the 
least diminish my esteem : I am not dis- 
pleased with my brother because he happens 
to ask our father for favours in a dift'erent 



•• The tragedy of ' Oidipe' was written in 1712, 
before Voltaire had completed his eighteenth year. 



WISDOM AND PRECEPT. 



93 



manner from me. Lot his errors rest in 
peace — bis excellencies deserve admiration : 
let me with the wise admire his wisdom — let 
the envious and the isruorant ridicule his 



foihles; the folly of others is ever most ridi- 
culous to those who are themselves most 
foolish. Adieu. 



LETTER XLIV. 



WISDOM AND PUECEPT MAY LESSEN OUR MISEKIES, BUT CAN NEVEK INCREASE OUR 

POSITIVE SATISFACTIONS. 

From Lien Chi Altangi to Hi/iffpo, u Skive in Persia. 



It is impossible to form a jihiloso])hic system 
of hapj)iiiess which is adapted to every con- 
dition in life, since every person who travels 
in this great pursuit takes a se])arafe road. 
The ditVerent colours which suit dilVereiit 
complexions are not more various than the 
ditVerent ))leasures appropriated to difl'erent 
minds. The various sects who have pre- 
tended to give lessons to instruct me in hap- 
piness have described their own particular 
sensations without considering ours, have only 
loaded their disciples with constraint, without 
addiiif? to their real felicity. 

If I lind pleasure in dancing, how ridicu- 
lous would it be in me to prescribe such an 
amusement for the entertainment of a cripple ! 
should he, on the other hand, place his chief 
delight in painting, yet would he be absurd 
in recommending the same relish to one who 
had lost the power of distinguishing colours. 
General directions are, therefore, commoidy 
useless ; and to be particular would exhaust 
volumes, since each individual may require 
a particular system of precepts to direct his 
choice. 

Every mind seems capable of entertaining 
a certain quantity of hajjpiness, which no 
institutions can increase, no circumstances 
alter, and entirely independent of fortune. 
Let any man compare his present fortune with 
the past, and he will probably find himself, 
uj)on the whole, neither better nor worse than 
formerly. 

Ciratitied ambition, or irrej)aral)le cala- 
mity, may produce transient sensations of 
pleasure or distress. Those storms may dis- 
comjwse in proportion as they are strong, or 
the mind is jiliant to their imi)ression. But 
the soul, though at first lifted up by the 
event, U every day operated upon with dimi- 



nished influence, and at length subsides into 
the level of its usual tranquillity. Should 
some unexpected turn of fortinie take thee 
from fetters and j)lace thee on a throne, ex- 
ultation would he natural upon the change; 
l)ut the temjjer, like the face, would soon re- 
sume its native serenity. 

Every wish, therefore, which leads us to 
expect happiness somewhere else but where 
we are — every institution which teaches us 
that we should be better by being possessed 
of something new, which promises to lift us 
a step higher than we are — only lays a found- 
ation for uneasiness, because it contracts 
debts which we cannot repay; it calls that a 
good, which, when we have found it, will, in 
fact, add nothing to our happiness. 

To enjoy the present, without regret for the 
past or solicitude for the future, has been the 
advice rather of poets than philosophers. And 
yet the precept seems more rational than is 
generally imagined; it is the only general 
precej)t respecting the pursuit of happiness 
that can be applieil with propriety to every 
condition of life. The man of pleasure, the 
man of business, and the philosopher, are 
equally interested in its disquisition. If we 
do not lind happiness in the j)resent moment, 
in what shall we lind it? either in reflecting 
on tlie past, or prognosticating the future. 
Hut let us see how these are capable of pro- 
ducing satisfaction. 

A remembrance of what is past, and an 
anticipation of wliat is to come, seem to be 
the two faculties by wiiich man dillers most 
from other animals. Though bnites enjoy 
them in a limited degree, yet their whole life 
seems taken iiji in the present, regardless of 
the past and the future. Man, on the con- 
trary, endeavours to derive his happiness, and 



94 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



experiences most of his miseries, from these 
two sources. 

Is this su]ieriority of reflection a preroga- 
tive of which we should boast, and for which 
we shoukl thank nature; or is it a misfortune 
of which we shouhl coniphiin and he hum- 
ble? Either from the abuse, or I'rom the na- 
ture of things, it certainly makes our condi- 
tion more iniserable. 

Had we a privilege of calling up, by the 
power of memory, only such passages as were 
pleasing, unmixed with such as were dis- 
agreeable, we might then excite a pleasvu-e, 
an ideal hajjpiness. perhaps more poignant 
than actual sensation. But this is not the 
case — the past is never represented without 
some disagreeable circumstance which tar- 
nishes all its beauty ; the remembrance of an 
evil carries in it nothing agreeable, and to re- 
member a good is always accompanied with 
regret. Thus we lose more than we gain by 
the remembrance. 

And we shall tind our expectation of the fu- 
ture to be a gift more distressful even than the 
former. To fear an approaching evil is cer- 
tainly a most disagreeable sensation ; and, in 
expecting an approaching good, we expe- 
rience the inquietude of wanting actual pos- 
session. 

Thus, whichever way we look, the prospect 
is disagreeable; behind, we have left plea- 
sures we shall never more enjoj% and therefore 
regret; and before, we see pleasures which 
we languish to possess, and are consequently 
uneasy till we possess them. Was there any 
method of seizing the present, unembittered by 
such reflections, then w ould our state be toler- 
ably easy. 

This, indeed, is the endeavour of all man- 
kind who, untutored by philosophy, pursue as 
much as they can a life of amusement and 
dissipation. Every rank in life, and every 
size of understanding, seems to follow this 
alone ; or, not pursuing it, deviates from 
happiness. The man of pleasure pursues dis- 
sipation by profession — the man of business 
pursues it not less, as every voluntary labour 
he undergoes is only dissipation in disguise. 
The philosopher himself, even while he rea- 
sons upon the subject, does it unknowingly, 
with a view of dissipating the thoughts of 
what he was, or what he must be. 



The subject, therefore, comes to this: — 
Which is the most perfect sort of dissipation 
— pleasure, business, or philosophy ? which 
best serves to exclude those uneasy sensations 
which memory or anticipation produce? 

The enthusiasm of pleasure charms only 
by intervals — the highest rapture lasts only for 
a moment — and all the senses seem so com- 
bined as to be soon tired into languor by the 
gratidcation of any one of them. It is only 
among the poets we hear ol' men changing to 
one delight when satiated with another. In 
nature it is very ditTerent — the glutton, when 
sated with the full meal, is unqualified to feel 
the real pleasure of drinking; the drunkard, 
in turn, finds few of those transports which 
lovers boast in enjoyment; and the lover, 
when cloyed, finds a diminution of every 
other appetite. Thus, after a full indulgence 
of any one sense, the man of pleasure finds a 
languor in all, is placed in a chasm between 
past and expected enjovment, perceives an 
interval which must be tilled up. The pre- 
sent can give no satisfaction, because he has 
already robbed it of every charm ; a mind 
thus left without immediate employment na- 
turally recurs to the past or future; the re- 
flector finds that he was happj-, and knows 
that he cannot be so now ; he sees that he 
may yet be haj)py, antl wishes the hour was 
come; thus every period of his continuance is 
miserable, except that very short one of im- 
mediate gratification. Instead of a life of 
dissipation, none has more frequent conversa- 
tions with disagreeable se// than he ; his en- 
thusiasms are but few and transient; his 
appetites, like angry creditors, continually 
making fruitless demands for what he is un- 
able to pay, and tlie greater his former plea- 
sure, the more impatient his expectations. A 
life of pleasure is therefore the mostunpleasing 
life in the world. 

Habit has rendered the man of business 
more cool in his desires ; he finds less regret 
for past pleasures, and less solicitude for those 
to come. The life he now leads, though 
tainted in some measure with hope, is yet not 
afflicted so strongly with regret, and is less di- 
vided between short-lived rapture and lasting 
anguish. The pleasures he has enjoyed are 
not so vivid, and those he has to expect can- 
not consequently create so much anxiety. 



PEOPLE OF LONDON. 



95 



The pliilosopher, wlio extemis liis reiijanl to 
all luiuikiiiil. must luive ;i still smallt-r con- 
cern tor what has alreaiiy atlt'Cted. or may 
horeal"lfr atVoct, himself: tho concerns of" others 
make his whole stiidv. and that study is the 
jjleasure ; anil this jileasure is continuiny^ in 
its nature, hecause it can be changed at will, 
leaving but few of" those anxious intervals 
which are emjiloyed in rememlirance or anti- 
cipation. The ])hilosopher by this means 
leads a lite ot" almost continued dissipation ; 
and rellection, which makes the uneasiness 
and misery of others, serves as a companion 
and instructor to him. 

In a word, positive ha])piness is constitu- 
tional, and incapable of increase ; misery is 



artificial, and generally ])roceed3 from our 
folly. Philosophy can add to our hap])ines3 
in no other manner but by diminishing our 
misery : it should not ])retend to increase our 
present stock, i)ut make us economists of what 
we are possessed of. The great source of ca- 
lamity lies in regret or anticipation : he, there- 
fore, is most wise who thinks of the present 
alone, regardless of the ])ast or the future. 
This is impossible to the man of pleasure; it 
is dillicult to tlie man of business; and is in 
some measure att.iinal)le by the philosojiher. 
Happy were all born ptiilosopliers ; all born 
with a talent of thus dissipating our own 
cares, by spreading them upon all mankind I 
Adieu. 




[Chinese Jug^jler iuul atteu'laiit Cljwn.] 



LETTER XLV. 

THE .AHDOl'R OK THE PEOPLE OF LONDON IN KUNNING AFTER SIGHTS AND MONSTERS. 

From Lien Chi Altuiigi lo Fuin Hoam, 8fc. 

as a friend, but to satisfy curiosity ; not to be 
entertained so much as wondered at; the 
same earnestness w hicli excites them to see a 



Though the frequent invitations I receive 
from men of distinction here might excite the 
vanity of some, I am (|uite murtitied, how- 
ever, when I consider the motives that inspire 
their civility. I am sent for, not to be treated 



Chinese would have made them equally 
proud of a visit from the rhinoceros. 



96 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



From tlie liighest to the lowest, this people 
st'eni Ibnd of sights and monsters. I atn fold 
of" a person here who gets a very conifortalile 
livelihood l)y making wonders, and tlien sell- 
ing or showing them to the people for money; 
no matter how insignificant they were in the 
beginning, hy locking them up close, and 
showing for money, they soon become prodi- 
gies. His first essay in this way was to exhibit 
himself as a wax-work tigure behind a glass 
door at a puppet-show. Thus keeping the 
spectators at a proper distance, and having his 
head adorned with a copper crown, he looked 
'• extremely natural, and very like the life 
itself."' He continued this exhibition with 
success, till an involuntary tit of sneezing 
brought him to life before all the spectators, 
and consequently reTidered him for that time 
as entirely useless as the peaceable inhabitant 
of a catacomb. 

Determined to act the statue no more, he 
next levied contributions under the tigure of 
an Indian king ; and, by painting his face 
and counterfeiting the savage howl, he frighted 
several ladies and children with amazing 
success : in this manner, therefore, he might 
have lived very comfortabl}', had he not been 
arrested for a debt that was conti'acted when 
he was the figure in wax-work : thus his face 
underwent an involuntary ablution, and he 
found himself reduced to his primitive com- 
plexion and indigence. 

After some time, being freed from gaol, he 
was now grown wiser, and, instead of making 
himself a wonder, was resolved only to make 
wonders. He learned the art of pasting up of 
mummies ; was never at a loss for an artificial 
lusus natiirce ; nay, it has been reported, that 
he has sold seven petrified lobsters of his own 
manufacture to a noted collector of rarities ; 
but this the learned Cracovius Putridus has 
undertaken to refute in a very elaborate dis- 
sertation. 

His last wonder was nothing more than a 
halter ; yet by this halter he gained more than 
by all his former exhibitions. The people, 
it seems, had got it in their heads that a cer- 
tain noble criminal was to be hanged with a 
silken rope.' Now, there was nothing they 

' Earl Ferrers. — The executioners fought for the 
rope, and the one who lost it cried. The mob tore 



so much desired to see as this very rope, and 
he was resolved to gratify their curiosity : he 
therefore got one made, not only of silk, but, to 
render it more striking, several threads of gold 
were intermixed. The people paid their mo- 
ney only to see silk, but were highly satisfied 
when they found it was mixed with gold into 
the bargain. It is scarcely necessary to men- 
tion that the projector sold his silken rope for 
almost what it had cost him, as soon as the 
criminal was known to be hanged in hempen 
materials. 

By their fondness of sights, one would be 
a])t to imagine that, instead of desiring to see 
things as they should be, they are rather solicit- 
ous of seeing them as they ought not to be. A 
cat with four legs is disregarded, though never 
so useful ; but if it has but two, and is conse- 
quently incapable of catching mice, it is reck- 
oned inestimable, and every man of taste is 
ready to raise the auction. A man, though 
in his person faultless as an aerial genius, 
might starve; but, if stuck over with hideous 
warts like a porcupine, his fortune is made for 
ever, and he may jiropagate the breed with 
impunity and applause."^ 

A good woman in my neighbourhood, who 
v/as bred a habit-maker, though she handled 
her needle tolerably well, could scarcely get 
employment. But being obliged, by an acci- 
dent, to have both her hands cut oft' from the 
elbows, wliat would in another countr}' have 
been her ruin made her fortune here : she now 
was thought more fit for her trade than liefore; 
business flowed in apace, and all people paid 
for seeing the mantiia-maker who wrought 
without hands. 

A gentleman, showing me his collection of 
pictures, stopped at one with peculiar admira- 
tion. " There," cries he, " is an inestimable 
piece."' I gazed at the picture for some time, 
Ijut could see none of those graces with which 



off the black cloth from the scaffold as relics. — Wal- 
pole's Letters. 

* This insatiable fondness of the Englisli for sights 
and monstrosities did not escape Shakspere's obser- 
vation. When Trinculo, in the ' Tempest,' stumbles 
upon Caliban, he says : — " Were I in England now 
(as once I was), and had but this fish painted, not a 
lioliday fool there but would give a piece of silver : 
there would this monster make a man : when they 
will not give a doit to relieAealame beggar, they will 
lay out ten to see a dead Indian." 



RUNNING AFTER SIGHTS. 



97 



he seemed eiirajitiircil ; it a])]M";ir('il to nie the 
most juhry piece dI' llie whole coUectioii. I 
therefore deinaiiJed wliere those beauties hiy, 
of which I w;is yet iiiseusiWe. "Sir," cries 
he, " tlie merit iloes not consist in the piece, 
hut in thi' manner in which it was (h)ne. Tlie 
painter drew the wlioh- with his foot, and hehl 
the pencil between his toes. I l)i)ught it at a 
very (;reat price, for peculiar merit should ever 
be rewarile<l." 

Hut these ])eo])le are not more fond of won- 
ders than liberal in rewardin>^ those who show 
them. From the wonderful dog of knowledge, 
at present under the ])atronage of the nobility, 
down to the man with the box, who professes 
to show •' the best imitation of nature tliat was 
ever seen." they all live in luwiry. A singing- 
woman shall collect subscriptions in her own 
coach and six; a fellow shall make a fortune 
by tossing a straw from his toe to his nose; 
one in particular has found that eating Hre 
was the most ready way to live; and another, 
who gingles several bells fixed to his cap, is 
the oiily man that I know of who has received 
emolument from the labours of his head. 

A yoiuig author, a man of good-nature and 
learning, was complaining to me some nights 
ago of this misi)laced generosity of the times. 
'• Here," says he, '' have I spent part of my 
youth in attenijiting to instruct and amuse my 
fellow -creatures, and all my reward luis been 
solitude, poverty, and reproach; while a fel- 
low possessed of even the smallest sliare of 
fiddling merit, or who lias perhaps learned to 
whistle double, is rewarded, applauded, and 
caressed!" '"Prithee, young man," says I to 
him, '• are you ignorant that, in so large a 
city as this, it is better to be an anuising than 
a useful member of society ? Can you leap 
up and touch your feet four times before you 
come to the ground?" " No, sir." '■ Can 
vou pimp for a man of cpiality V" " No, sir." 
'■ Can you stand upon two horses at full 
s|>ced f *• No, sir." " Can you swallow a 
])en-knife ?" " I can do none of those tricks." 
'• Why, then," crieil I, " there is no other 
prudent means of sui)sistence left but to ap- 
[)rise the town that you sj)eedily intend to eat 
up your own nose by subscription." 

I have frequently regretted tiiat none of our 



K;vsteru posture-m;usters or show-men have 
ever ventured to England.' I should be 
pleased to see that money circulate in Asia 
which is now sent to Italy and France, in 
order to bring their vagabonds hither. Seve- 
ral of our tricks would imdouiitedly give the 
Englisli high satisfaction. Men of fashion 
would be greatly j)leased with the postures iis 
well as the condescension of our dancing- 
girls; and the ladies would equally admire 
the conductors of our tire-works. AVhat an 
agreeable surj)rise would it be to see a huge 
fellow with wliiskers Hash a charge<l blunder- 
buss full in a lady's face, without singeing 
her hairs or melting her pomatum ! Perhajjs, 
when the first surprise w;is over, she might 
then grow familiar with danger ; and the 
ladies might vie with eacli other in standing 
fire with intrepidity. 

But of all the wonders of the East, the most 
useful, and I should fancy the most pleasing, 
woidd l)e the looking-glass of Lao, which re- 
flects the mind as well as the body. It is 
said that the emperor Chusi used to make his 
concubines dress their heads and their hearts 
in one of these glasses every morning ; while 
the lady was at her toilet he would frequently 
look over her shoulder ; and it is recorded 
that, among the tliree hunded whichcompose<l 
his seraglio, not one was found whose 7uind 
was not even more beautifVil than her person. 

I make no doubt but aglass in this country 
would have the very same efVect. The Eng- 
lish ladies, concubines and all, would un- 
doubtedly cut very pretty figures in so faith- 
ful a monitor. There, should we happen to 
peep over a lady's shoulder while dressing, we 
might be able to see neither gaming or ill-na- 
ture; neither pride, debauchery, nor a love of 
gadding. We shoidd find her, if any sensible 
defect ajipearcd in the niinil, more careful in 
rectifying it than phistering up the irrejjarable 
decays of the person ; nay, I am even apt to 
fancy that ladies would find more real ])lca- 
sure in this utensil in jirivate than in any 
other bauble imjiorted from China, though 
never so expensive or amusing. 

' Since tliis Icttor w;i3 wriUou we h:ivc li.ul tlieiii 
from ni;;u-ly every country of tlie Kast. 



98 



CITIZEN or THE WORLD. 



LETTER XLVI. 



THE LOOKING-GLASS OF LAO — A DliKAM. 



From the Same. 



Upon fiiiisliiugmy last letter, I retired to rest 
reflecting u}jc)n the womlcrs of the glass of 
Lao, wishing to be possessed of one here, ami 
resolved in such case to oblige every lady 
with a sight of it for nothing. What fortune 
denied me waking, fancy svipplied in a dream : 
the glass, I know not how, was put into my 
possession, and I could perceive several ladies 
approaching, some voluntarily, others driven 
forward against their wills by a set of discon- 
tented genii, whom by intuition I knew were 
their husbands. 

The apartment in which I was to show 
away vas filled with several gaming-tables, 
as if just forsaken ; the candles were burnt to 
the socket, and the hour was five o'clock in 
the morning. Placed at one end of the room, 
which was of prodigious length, I could 
more easilj' distinguish every female figure 
as she marched up from the door ; but guess 
my surprise when I could scarcely perceive 
one blooming or agreeable face among the 
number. This, however, I attributed to the 
early hour, and kindly considered that the 
face of a lady just risen from bed ought al- 
ways to find a compassionate advocate. 

The iirst person who came up in order to 
view her intellectual face was a commoner"s 
wife, who, as I afterwards found, being bred 
up during her virginity in a pawidjroker's 
shop, now attempted to make up the defects 
of breeding and sentiment by the magnifi- 
cence of her dress and the expensiveness of 
her amusements. " Mr. Showman," cried 
she, approaching, " I am told you has some- 
thing to show in that there sort of magic- 
lantern, by which folks cau see themselves 
on the inside : I protest, as my Lord Beetle 
says, I am sure it will be vastly pretty, for 
I have never seen anything like it before. But 
how ? are we to strip off our clothes and be 
turned inside out ? if so, as Lord Beetle says, 
I absolutely declare off; for I would not strip 
for the world before a man's face, and so 
I tells his lordship almost every night of his 



life." I informed tlie lady that I would 
dispense witli flie ceremony of stripping, 
and immediately presented my glass to her 
view. 

As when a first-rate beauty, after having 
with difficulty escaped the small-pox, revisits 
her favourite miiTor — that mirror which had 
repeated the iiattery of every lover, and even 
added force to the compliment — expecting to 
see what had so often given her pleasure, she 
no longer beholds the clierry lip, the polished 
forehead, and speaking blush, but a hateful 
phiz, quilted into a thousand seams by the 
hand of deformitj- ; grief, resentment, and 
rage fill her bosom by turns; she blames the 
fates and tlie stars, but most of all the un- 
happy glass feels her resentment : so it was 
with the lady in question ; she had never 
seen her own mind before, and was nov/ 
shocked at its deformity. One single look 
was sufficient to satisfy her curiosity : I held 
up the glass to her face, and she shut hereyes: 
no entreaties could prevail upon her to gaze 
once more. She was even going to snatch it 
from my hands, and Ineak it in a thousand 
pieces. I found it was time, therefore, to dis- 
miss her as incorrigible, and show away to 
the next that offered. 

This was an unmarried lady, who continned 
in a state of virginity till thirty-six, and then 
admitted a lover when she despaired of a hus- 
band. No woman was louder at a revel than 
siie, perfectly iree-hearted, and almost in 
every respect a man ; slie understood ridicule 
to perfection, and was once known even to 
sally out in order to beat tlie watch. '" Here, 
you, my dear ! with tlie outlandish face, " said 
she, addressing me; *" let me take a single 
peep. Not that I care three damns what figure 
1 may cut in the glass of such an old-fasliioned 
creature; if I am allowed the beauties of the 
face by peo})le of fashion, I know tlie world 
will be complaisant enough to toss me the 
beauties of the mind into the bargain." I 
held my glass before her as she desired, and 



A DREAM. 



99 



must coiift'ss was shocked with the reflection. 
The laily, however, pized for some time with 
the utmost comj)laceiicy : ami, iit last, tuniiiiij 
to nie with the most s;itistied smile, said she 
never could think she had Ijeeii half so hand- 
some. 

L'lion her dismission, a lady of tlistinctiou 
was reluctantly haided along to the glass by 
her husljand. In bringing her forward, as he 
came first to the glass himself, his mind ap- 
peared tinctured with inunoderatc jealousy, 
and I was going to reproach liini for using her 
with such severity ; hut when the lady came 
to present herself I immediately retracted; 
for. alas I it was seen that he had but too 
much reason for his suspicions. 
'} The next was a lady who usually teazed all 
her acquaintance in desiring to he told of her 
faults, and then never mended any. Upon 
approacliing the glass. I could readily per- 
ceive vanity, aflectation, and some other ill- 
looking blots on her mind ; wlierefore, by my 
advice, she inmiediately set about mentling. 
But I could easily (ind she was not earnest 
in the work ; for, as she repaired them on one 
side, they generally broke out on another. 
Thus, after three or four attempts, she began 
to make the ordinary use of the glass in set- 
tling her hair. 

The company now made room for a woman 
of learning, who apinoached with a slow pace 
aud a solemn countenance, which, for lier 
own sake, I could wish had been cleaner. 
'■ Sir." cried the lady", flourishing her hand, 
which held a jtinch of snuft', '• I shall be en- 
ra])tured Ijy having presented to my view a 
mind with which I have so long studied to he 
acquainted; but, in order to give tlie sex a 
proper example, I must insist that all the com- 
})any may be permitted to look over my 
shoulder.'' 1 bowed assent, and, presenting 
the glass, showed the lady a mind by no 
means so fair as she had expected to see. Ill- 
nature, ill-placed ]iride. and s])leen, were too 
legible to be mistaken. Nothing could be 
more amusing than the mirth of her female 
comjianioiis who had looked over. They had 
liatc<l her from th(! beginning, and now the 
apartment echoed with a universal laugh. No- 
thing l)Ut a fortitude like hers could have 
withstood tlieir raillery : she stood it, how- 
I ver ; and, when the burst was exhausted, with 



great tranciuillity she assured the company 
that the whole was a dfreptio visits, and that 
she was too well accjuainted w ith her own 
mind to believe any false re])resentations from 
another. Thus saying, she retireil with a 
sullen satisfaction, resolved not to mend her 
faidts, but to write a criticism on the mental 
reflector. 

I must own by this time I began myself 
to suspect the fidelity of my mirror ; for, as 
the ladies appeared at least to have the merit 
of rising early, since tliey were u]) at five, I 
was amazed to find nothing of this good 
quality pictured ujjon tlieir minds in the 
reflection : I was resolved, therefore, to com- 
municate my suspicions to a lady whose intel- 
lectual countenance appeared more fair than 
any of the rest, not having above seventy-nine 
spots in all, besides slips and foibles. '• I own, 
yovnig woman," said I, " that there are some 
virtues upon that mind of yours, but there is 
still one which I do not see represented ; I 
mean that of rising betimes in the morning : 
I fancy the glass false in that particular." 
The young lady smiled at my simplicitj% 
and with a blush confessed that she and the 
whole company had been shut up all night 
gaming. 

By this time all tlie ladies, except one, had 
seen themselves successively, and disliked the 
show or scolded the showman: I was resolved, 
however, that she who seemed to neglect her- 
self and was neglected by the restshovdd take 
a view ; and, going up to the corner of the 
room where she still continued sitting, I pre- 
sented my glass full in her face. Here it was 
that I exulted in my success; no blot, no 
stain, appeared on any ])art of the faithful 
mirror. As when the large unwritten page 
presents its snowy spotless bosom to the writer's 
hand, so appeared the glass to my view. 
" Here, O ye daugliters of Knglisli ancestors,"" 
cried I, " turn hither and btliohl an object 
worthy imitation ; look njion the mirror now, 
and acknowledge its justice, and this woman's 
pre-eminence! The ladies, oiieying the sum- 
mons, came up in a group, and, looking on, 
acknowledged there was some truth in the 
picture — as the person now represented had 
been deaf, dumb, and a fool from her 
cradle ! 

Thus much of niv dream I dislinetlv re- 



100 



CITIZEN OF THE WOULD. 



member; (lie rest was iilleil witli iliimeias, 
eiicliaiitcd castles. and llyiiii; diai^Diis, as usual. 
As you, my <lear Kum Hoaiii, aie ])articu]arly 
versed in flie interpretation of those niidnif^ht 
warnings, wliat pleasure should I find in your 
explanation ! But that our distance jjrevents: 



I make no doulit, however, hut that, from my 
descrijition, you will vciy nuicli venerate the 
good (jualities of the English ladies in gene- 
ral ; since dreams, you know, go always hy 
contraries. Adieu. 



LETTER XLYII. 

MISERY BEST liELIEVED I!V DISSIPATION. 
Fnnii Lien Chi .Ut<iii<ji to UiiKjjjn, a s/itre in Persi 



Your last letters betray a mind seemingly 
fond of wisdom, yet tempested up by a thou- 
sand various passions. You would fondly 
])ersuade me that my former lessons still in- 
iluence your conduct, and yet your mind 
seems not less enslaved than your body. 
Knowledge, wisdom, erudition, arts, and ele- 
gance, what are they but tlie mere trappin^js 
of the mind if they do not serve to increase 
the happiness of the possessor? A mind 
rightly instituted in the school of piiilosopliy 
acquires at once the stability of tlie oak and 
the fle\il)ility of the osier. The truest man- 
ner of lessening our agonies is to shrink from 
their pressure : is to confess that we feel them. 

The fortitude of European sages is but a 
dream ; for where lies the merit in being in- 
sensible to tlie strokes of fortune, or in dissem- 
bling our sensibility? If we are insensible, 
that arises only from a happy constitution : 
tliat is a blessing jirevionsly granted by Hea- 
ven, and wliich no art can procure, no insti- 
tutions imjirove. 

If we dissemble our feelings, we only artifi- 
cially endeavor.r to persuade others that we 
enjoy privileges which we actually do not 
posses.^. Thus, while we endea\()ur to a])pear 
happy, v.e feel at once all the pangs of inter- 
nal misery, and all the self-ie])roaching con- 
sciousness of endeavouring to deceive. 

I know but of two sects of philosophers in 
the world that have endeavoured to inculcate 
that fortitude is but an imaginary virtue ; I 
mean the followers of Confucius, and those 
who profess the doctrines of Christ. All other 
sects teach pride under misfortunes ; they 

1 This letter appears to be little more tlian a rhap- 
sody of sentiments from Confucius. — A. 



alone teach humility. "Night," says our Chi- 
nese jihilosopher, " not more surely follows day 
than groans and tears grow out of ])ain ;" when 
n>isfortunes therefore opjness, when tyrants 
threaten, it is our interest, it is our duty, to fly 
even to dissipation for su])port, to seek redress 
from friendship, or I'rom that best of friends 
who loved us into being. 

Philosophers, my son, have long declaimed 
against the passions, as being the source of 
all our miseries : they are tlie source of all our 
misfortunes, I own ; but they are the source 
of our pleasures too ; and every endeavour of 
our lives, and all the institutions of philoso- 
phy, should tend to this— not to dissemble an 
absence of passion, but to repel those which 
lead to vice by those which direct to virtue. 

The soul may be compared to a field of 
battle, Avhere two armies are ready every mo- 
ment to encounter; not a single vice but has 
a more powerful opponent, and not one virtue 
but may be overborne by a combination of 
vices. Reason guides the hands of either 
host ; nor can it subdue one passion but by 
the assistance of another. Thus as a barque 
on every side beset with storms enjoys a state 
of rest, so dues the mind, when inlluenced by 
a just ecjuipoise of the passions, enjoy tran- 
quillit)'. 

I lia\ e used such means as my little fortune 
would admit to procure your freedom. I 
have lately written to the Governor of Argun 
to ])ay your ransom, though at the expense 
of all tlie wealth I brought with me from 
China. If we become poor, we shall at least 
have the pleasure ol' bearing poverty together; 
for what is fatigue or famine when weighed 
against friendship and freedom ? Adieu. 



A FAIRY TAI,E. 



101 



LETTER XLVIII. 



TlIK ABSinOITV OF PEHSOXS IN HIGH STATION PUKSl'ING EMPLOVMENTS BENEATH THEM, 

EXEMPLIFIED IN A FAIHY TALE. 



From Lien Chi Allciiiifi to '"'" 

Happening some days ago to call at a 
])aiiiter's to amuse mysolf in examining some 
jiictures (I liad no design to buy), it surprised 
me to see a young prince in the working-room, 
dressed in a painter's apron, and assiduously 
learning the trade. We instantly rememl)ered 
to have seen each other ; and, after the usual 
rompliments, I stood liy while he continued 
to paint on. As everything done liy the rich 
is praised ; as jjrinces here, as well ;us in 
China, are never without fullowers ; three or 
four persoiLS. who had the a])pearaiice of gen- 
tlemen, were placed behind to comfort and 
applaud him at every stroke. 

Need 1 tell that it struck me with very dis- 
agreeable sensations to see a youth who, by 
his station in life, had it in his power to be 
useful to thousands, thus letting his mind run 
to waste upon canvass, at tlie same time fan- 
cying hims<-lf improving in taste, and tilling 
his rank with proper decorum f 

As seeing an eiTor, and attempting to re- 
dress it, are only one and the same with me, 
I took occasion, upon his lordshi])"s tlesiring 
my ojiinion of a Chinese scroll intended for 
the frame of a picture, to assure him that a 
nianilarin of China tliought a minute ac- 
fiuaint.ance witli such mechanical trilles below 
his dignity. 

This reply raised the indignation of some 
and the contempt of others. 1 could hear the 
names of A'andal, Goth, taste, polite arts, de- 
licacy, anil lire, repeated in tones of ridicule 
or resentment. Hut, considering tliat .it w;is 
in vain to argue against ])eople wlio liad so 
mucli to say, without contradicting them I 
begged leave to repeat a iairy tale. Tiiis re- 
quest redoubled tiieir lavighter; but, not easily 
aba-shed at the r.iillery of boys, I persisted, 
observing that it would set the alisurdity of 
jilacing our aflections upon trifles in the 
strongest |K)int of view, and adding that it 
was hoped the moral would compensate for its 
stupidity. '' For Heaven's sake,'" cried the 



* * *, .M.-rclia/it i/i Amsterd(tm. 

great man, wasliing his brush in water, "let 
us have no morality at present ; if we must 
have a story, let it be without any moral." I 
})retended not to hear, and, while he handled 
the brush. ])roceeded as follows : — 

" In the kingdom of Bonbobbin, which, by 
the Chinese annals, appears to have flourished 
twenty thousand years ago, there reigned a 
prince endowed with every accomplishment 
which generally distinguishes the sons of 
kings. His beauty was brigliter than the 
sun. The sun, to which lie was nearly re- 
lated, would sometimes stop his course in 
order to look down and admire him. 

" His mind was not less perfect than his 
body: he knew all things, without having 
ever read; ])hilosophers, ])oets, and historians 
submitted tlieir works to his decision ; and so 
penetrating was lie, that he coulil tell the 
merit of a book by looking on the cover. He 
made epic ]M)ems. tragedies, and pastorals 
with surprising facility ; song, epigram, or 
rebus, was all one to him, though it is ob- 
served ho could never finish an acrostic. In 
short, the fairy who presided at his birth had 
endowed him witli almost every perfection, or, 
what was just tlie same, his subjects were 
ready to acknowledge he possessed them ; and, 
for his own part, he knew nothing to the con- 
trary. A prince so accomplished received a 
name suitable to his merit, and lie was call- 
ed I5onbennin-l)onl)obbin-ii()nl)obbinet, which 
signifies Knlightener of the Sun. 

" As he was very ])owerf'ul, and yet luiniar- 
ried. all the neighbouring kings earnestly 
sought his alliance. Each sent his daugliter, 
dressed out in the most magnificent manner, 
and with the most sumptuous retinue imagin- 
able, in order to allure the jirince ; so that at 
one time there were seen at his court no less 
than seven hundred foreign princesses, of ex- 
quisite sentiment and beauty, eacli alone sufli- 
cient to make seven hundreil orilinary men 
happy. 



102 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



" Distracted in such a variety, the generous 
Bonbenniu, hail he not been obliged by the 
laws of tlie emjiire to make choice of one, 
would very willingly have married them all, 
for none understood gallantry better. He 
spent nuiiil)erless hours of solicitude in en- 
deavouring to detennine whom he should 
choose : one lady w;is possessed of every per- 
fection, but he disliked her eyebrows ; ano- 
ther was brighter than the morning star, but 
he disproved of her fong-whang ;^ a third did 
not lay white enough on her cheek ; and a 
fourth did not suthciently blacken her nails. 
At last, after numberless disappointments on 
the one side and the other, he made choice of 
the incomparable Nanhoa, Queen of the Scar- 
let Dragons. 

•'The preparations for the royal nuptials, 
or the envy of the disajipointed ladies, needs 
no description ; both the one and the other 
were as great as they could be : the beautiful 
princess was conducted amidst admiring mul- 
titudes to the royal couch, where, after being 
divested of every encumbering ornament, she 
was placed in expectance of the youtliful 
bridegroom, who did not keep her long in ex- 
pectation. He came more cheerful than the 
moniing, and, printing on her lips a burning 
kiss, the attendants took this as proper sig- 
nal to withdraw. 

''Perhaps I ought to have mentioned m the 
beginning, that, among several other qualifi- 
cations, the prince was fond of collecting and 
breeding mice, which, being a harmless pas- 
time, none of his counsellors thought jiroper 
to dissuade him from : he therefore kept a 
variety of these pretty little animals in the 
most beautiful cages enriched with diamonds, 
rubies, emeralds, pearls, and other precious 
stones : thus he innocently spent four hours 
each day in contemplating their innocent 
little pastimes, 

•' But to proceed. The prince and prin- 
cess were now in bed ; one with all the love 
and expectation, the other with all the mo- 
desty and fear, which is natvual to supjKise ; 
both Avilling, yet afraid to begin : when the 
prince, happening to look towards the outside 
of the bed, perceived one of the most beauti- 
ful animals in the world, a white mouse with 

' See Kote to Letter sxix. 



green eyes, playing about the floor, and per- 
forming a hundred pretty tricks. He w.as 
ahead}' master of blue mice, red mice, and 
even white mice with yellow eyes; but a 
white mouse witli green eyes was what he 
had long endeavoured to possess : wherefore, 
leaping from bed with the utmost impatience 
and agility, the youthful prince attempted 
to seize the little chamier, but it was fled 
in a moment ; for, alas ! the mouse was sent 
by a discontented princess, and was itself a 
fairy. 

•'It is impossible to describethe agony of the 
prince upon this occasion; he sought roimd 
and round e\'ery part of the room, even the 
bed where the princess lay was not exempt 
from the inquiry : he turned the princess on 
one side and the other, stripped her quite 
naked. l)ut no mouse was to be found : the 
princess herself was kind enough to assist, but 
still to no purpose, 

" ' Alas!" cried the young prince in an 
agony, ' how unhappy am I to be thus dis- 
appointed ! never sure was so beautiful an 
animal seen ! I would give half my kingdom 
and my princess to him that would lind it.' 
The princess, though not much pleased with 
the latter part of his ofler, endeavoured to com- 
fort him as well as she could : she let him 
know that he had a liundred mice already, 
which ought to be at least sutHcient to satisfy 
any philosopher like him : though none of 
them had green eyes, yet he should learn to 
thank heaven that they had eyes. She told 
him (for she was a profound moralist") that 
incurable evils must lie borne, and that useless 
lamentations were vain, and that man was 
born to misfortunes ; she even entreated him 
to return to bed, and she would endeavour to 
lull him on her bosom to repose ; but still the 
prince continued inconsolable, and. regarding 
her with a stern air. for which his family was 
remarkable, he vowed never to sleep in the 
royal palace, or indulge himself in the inno- 
cent pleasures of matrimon}', till he had found 
the white mouse with the green eyes," 

" Prithee, Colonel Leech,'" cried his lord- 
ship, interrupting me, " how do you like that 
nose? Don"t you think there is something 
of the manner of Rembrandt in it? A prince 
in all this agony for a white mouse, O ridi- 
culous! Don't you think. Major Yampyre, 



1 VIKY TALE CONTINUED. 



103 



tliat eye-brow stippled very prettily ? IJiit, 
pray, what are the green eyes to the purpose, 
except to amuse children ? I would give u 



thimsaud guineivs to lay on the colouring of 
this clieek nioresinootldy. Hut 1 ask pardon ; 
])ray, sir, proceed."' 



LETTER XLLX. 

THE FAIRV TALE CONTINUED. 
From the Same. 



•• KiNos," continued I, "at that time were dif- 
ferent from what they are now ; tliey then never 
engaged their word for anything which they 
dill not rigorously intend to perform. Tliis 
was the case of Uonbeniiin, who continued all 
night to lament his misfortunes to the princess, 
who echoed groan for groan, ^\'lu'n morning 
came he published an edict, ofl'ering lialf his 
kingdom and his princess to the person who 
should catch and bring him the white mouse 
with the green eyes. 

" The edict was scarcely published wiien 
all the traj)s in the kingdom were baited with 
cheese: immberless mice were taken and de- 
stroyed ; but still the much-wished-for mouse 
was not among tlie number. Tlie priv)- coun- 
cil was assembled more than once to give their 
advice, but all their deliberations came to 
nothing, even though there were two complete 
vermin-killers and three professed rat-catchers 
of the number. Frequent addresses, as is 
usual on extraordinary occasions, were sent 
from all parts of the empire ; but, though tliese 
promised well, fliough in them he received an 
assurance that his faithful subjects would 
assist in his search with their lives and for- 
tunes, yet with all their loyalty they failed 
when the time came tliat the mouse was to l)e 
caught. 

" The prince, therefore, was resolved to go 
himself in search, determined never to lie two 
nights in one place till he had found wh it he 
sought for. Tlius, (juitting his ])alace with- 
out attendants, he set out upon liis journey, 
and travelled through many a desert, and 
crossed many a river, high over hills, and 
down along vales, still restless, still inquiring 
wherever he came ; but no white mouse was to 
be found. 

■• As one day, fatigued with his journey, he 
was shading liimself I'roiu the heat of tlie mid- 
day sun, iinder the arcliing Itranclies of a 



banana-tree, meditating on the oliject of his 
pursuit, he perceived an old woman, hideously 
defoniied, approaching him : by her stoop 
and the wrinkles of her visage she seemed at 
least live hundreil years old; and the spotted 
toad was not more freckK'(l than was her skin. 
• Ah! Prince Bonbennin-bonbobbin-bonbob- 
binet," cried the creature, • what has led you 
so many thousand miles from your own king- 
dom ? What is it you look for, and what in- 
duces you to travel into the kingdom of Em- 
mets '.' The ])rince, who w;ls excessively com- 
plaisant, told her the whole story three times 
over, forsliewas hardof iiearing. "Well." says 
the old lairy, for such slie was, • I jiromise to 
put you in possession (jf the white mouse with 
green eyes, and that immediately too, upon 
one condition." ' One condition!" cried the 
prince in a rapture, ' name a thousand ; I 
shall undergo tliem all with pleasin-e.' ' Nay,' 
inteiTupted the old fairy, ' I ask but one, and 
that not very mortifying neitlier; it is only 
that j'ou instantly consent to marry me.' 

" It is impossible to express the prince's 
confusion at this demand; he loved the 
mouse, but he detested the bride: he hesi- 
tated; he desired time to tliink upon the pro- 
])osal ; he would have been glad to consult his 
friends upon sucli an occasion. ' Nay, nay,' 
cried the odious fairy, ' if yon demur, I re- 
tract my promise; I do not desire to force my 
favours on any man. Here, you my attend- 
ants,' cried she, stamping with her foot, ' let 
my machine be driven up ; IJarbacela, Queen 
of Emmets, is not used to contemjjtuous 
treatment." She had no sooner spoken than 
her fiery chariot appeared in the air, drawn 
by two snails; and she was just going to step 
in when the prince rellected tliat now or never 
was tlie time to be jnissessed of the white 
mouse; an<I, ipiite forgetting his lawful prin- 
cess Nanhoa, falling on his knees, he implored 



104 



CITIZEN OF THE AVOllLD. 



forgiveness for liavingnislily rejecfed so much 
beauty. This wcll-tiiiu'd conij)liiiieiit in- 
stantly ajjpeiised the angry fairy. She atVecfed 
an hideous leer of a])[)rol)afion, and, taking 
the young prince by the hainl, conducted him 
to a neighbouring church, where they were 
married together in a moment. As soon as 
the ceremonj' was ])erformed, the prince, who 
was to tlie last degree desirous of seeing his 
favourite mouse, reminded the bride of her 
promise. ' To confess a truth, my prince,' 
cried she, ' I myself am tliat very white 
mouse you saw on your wedding-night in the 
royal ajiartmeut. I now, therefore, give you 
the choice, whether you would have me a 
mouse by day and a woman by night, or a 
mouse bv night and a woman by day.' 
Though the prince was an excellent casuist, 
he was quite at a loss how to deteiTnine, but 
at last thought it most prudent to have re- 
course to a blue cat that had followed him from 
his own dominions, and freqviently amused 
him with its conversation, and assisted him 
with its advice; in fact, this cat was no other 
than the faithful Princess Nanhoa herself, who 
had shared with liinr all his hardships in this 
disguise. 

" Ry her instructions he was determined in 
his choice, and, returning to the old fairy, 
prudently oliserved that, as she must have 
been sensible he had married her only for the 
sake of what she had, and not for her personal 
qualilications, hethouglit it would forseveral 
reasons be most convenient if she continued a 
woman by day and appeared a mouse by niglit. 

"■ The old fairy was a good deal mortiiied 
at her husband's want of gallantry, though 
she was reluctantly obliged to comply : the 
day was therefore spent in tlie most polite 
amusements, the gentlemen talked smut, the 
ladies laughed and were angry. At last the 
happy night drew near; the blue cat still stuck 
by the side of its master, and even followed 
liini to the bridal apartment. Barbacela en- 
tered the chamber, wearing atraln lifteen yards 
long, supported by porcupines, and all over 
beset with jewels, which served to render her 
more detestal)le. She was just stejiping into 
hed to tlie prince, forgetting her promise, when 
he Insisted upon seeing her in the shape of a 
mouse. She had promised, and no fairy can 
break her word; wherefore, assuming the 



figure of the most hraulil'nl mouse in the 
world, she skipped and played ai)out with an 
infaiity of amusement. The prince, in an 
agony of raptine, was desirous of seeing his 
pretty playfellow move a slow dance about the 
floor to his own singing : he began to sing, 
and the mouse immediately to perfonn with 
the most perfect knowdedge of time and the 
finest grace and greatest gravity imaginable; 
it only began, for Nanhoa, who had long waited 
for the opportunity in the shape of a cat, flew 
upon it instantly without remorse, and, eating 
it up in the hundreilth part of a moment, 
broke the charm, and then resumed her natu- 
ral figure. 

" The prince now found that he had all 
along been under the power of enchantment, 
that his passion for the wliite mouse was en- 
tirely fictitious, and not the genuine com- 
plexion of his soul ; he now saw that his ear- 
nestness after mice was an illiberal amuse- 
ment, and much more becoming a rat-catcher 
than a])rince. All his meannesses now stared 
him in the face; he begged the discreet prin- 
cess's pardon a hundred times. The princess 
very readily forgave him, and both, returning 
to their palace in Bonbobbin, lived very hap- 
pily together and reigned many years with all 
that wisdom which, by the story, they appear 
to have been possessed of: perfectly convinced, 
by their former adventures, that they who 
place their aft'ections on trifles at first for 
■ amusement will find those trifles at last be- 
' come their most serious concern.' ' Adieu. 



' A short time before this letter appeared tlie un- 
suspecting writer was the victim of a dishonourable 
plan for layinij him midcr cantri\)ution. A friend 
whom he had known at college, calling upon Gold- 
smith, regretted the immediate want of a small sum, 
which would enable him to realise a considerable 
amount, by ofTevin^ for sale to a lady of rank a couple 
of white mice which had arrived from India, and 
were then on Ijoard a ship in the river. The sum of 
two guineas was required to buy a cage for tlie rc- 
ce]itiou of the little animals, and to purchase suit- 
able clothes fit to appear in before a lady of rank. 
The poor poet only possessed half a guinea, which 
sum lie concluded would be of no use, but his visitor 
was not thus to lie deprived of his opportunity, and 
he suggested that the remainder might l)e raised from 
the pawnbrokers. With the kindness of spirit for 
which Goldsmith was distinguished, he acceded to 
this plan and pawned his watch, and afterwards 
learnt that his acquaintance had had the b;isencs3 to 
impose a lietitious story upon him. 



ENGLISH LIBERTY. 



105 



LETTER L. 



AN ATTEMPT TO DEFINE WHAT IS MEANT BY ENGLISH LI3EUTV. 



From the Same. 



Ask an Enf^lishinan what nation in the world 
enjoys most freeiloni, and he immediately an- 
swers hisown. Ask liim in what that freedom 
])rincipally consists, and lie is instantly silent. 
This hajipy pre-eminence does not arise iVom 
the peo[)le"s enjoying a larger share in lei^isla- 
tion tlian elsewhere, for in tliis particular 
several states in Eurojie excel them; nor does 
it arise from a greater exemption from taxes, 
for few countries pay more; it does not pro- 
ceed from their heiiig restrained hy fewer laws, 
for no people are liurthened with so many; 
nor does it particularly consist in the security 
of their property, for jirojierly is prettj' well 
secureil in every polite state in Europe. 

How, then, are the English more free — for 
more free they certainly are — than the jjeople 
of any other countn,-, or un<lerauy other I'orm 
of goverimient whatever ? Their freedom con- 
sists in llieir enjoying all the advantages of de- 
mocrac\-, witli this superior jirerogative, hor- 
rowed from monarchj-, that the severity of 
their laws may be relaxed without endanger- 
ing the constitution. 

In anjonarchical state in which the consti- 
futioii is strongest, the laws may he relaxed 
without danger; for thougli the people should 
be unanimous in the breach of any one in par- 
ticular, yet still tliere is an elVectivi! power 
superior to tlie peoj)lo, ca|)al)le of enforcing 
obedience whenever it may be i)ro[)er to in- 
culcate the law either towards the support or 
welfare of the community. 

Hut ill all tliosc governments where laws 
derive tlieir sanction from the jjeople alone, 
transgressions cannot be overluokeil without 
bringing the constitution into danger. They 
wlio transgress the law in such a case are th;)sc 
who prescribe it, by wliich means it loses not 
only its induence but its sanction. In every 
republic the laws must be strong, because tlie 
conslitution is feelile; they must resemlile an 
Asiatic husband, who is jiisllyjealous because 
lu? knows himself iinjiotent. Thus in Hol- 
land, Switzerland, and (ieiioa, new laws are 
not fref^uently enacted, but tlie old ones are 



observed with unremitting severity. In sucli 
rejiuhlics, therefore, the people are slaves to 
laws of tlieir own making little less than in 
unmixed monarchies, where they are slaves to 
the will of one subject to frailties like them- 
selves. 

In England, from a variety of happy acci- 
dents, their constitution is just strong enough, 
or, if you will, inonarcliical eiiougli, to permit 
a relaxation of the severity of laws, and yet 
those laws still to remain suHiciently strong to 
govern tlie people. This is the most perfect 
state of civil liberty of which we can form 
any idea : here we see a greater number of 
laws than in any other country, while the 
people at the same time obey only such as are 
immediately conducive to the interests of 
society ; several are unnoticed, many un- 
known ; some kept to be revived and enforced 
u])oii proper occasions, otiiers lel't to grow ob- 
solete, even without the necessity of abro- 
gation. 

There is scarcely an Englisliman who does 
not almost every day of his life olVeiid with 
impunity against some express law, and for 
which in a certain conjuncture of circum- 
stances he would not receive punishmiMit. 
Gaming-houses, preaching at ])rohil)ited 
places, assembled crowds, nocturnal amuse- 
ments, public shows, and a hundred other 
instances, are forbid and frequented. These 
prohibitions are useful ; though it he prudent 
in their magistrates, and happy for the people, 
that they are not enforced, and none l)ut the 
venal or mercenary attemjit to enforce them. 

The law in this case, like an indulgent 
parent, still keeps the ro<l, though the child 
is seldom con-ected. Were those pardoned 
ofl'ences to rise into enormity, were they likely 
to obstruct the happiness of society or endan- 
ger the state, it is then that justice would re- 
sume lier terrors, and jiunish those faults she 
had so often overlooked with indulgence. It 
is to this ductility of the laws that an Eng- 
lishman owes the freedom he enjoys suj)erior 
to others in a more popular government : every 



106 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



step therefore the constitution takes towards a 
(lemocnitic form, every (limiimtioii of the legal 
imthority. is in fact a (liuiiimtion of tlie sub- 
ject's freedom : but every attempt to render 
the government more popular, not oidy im- 
pairs natural liberty, l)ut even will at last dis- 
solve the political constitution. 

Every popular government seems calculated 
to last only for a time ; it grows rigid with 
age, new laws are multiplying, and the old 
contuiue in force ; the subjects are oppressed, 
l)urthened with a multiplicity of legal in- 
junctions; there are none from whom to ex- 
pect redress, and nothing but a strong convul- 
sion in tlie state can vindicate them into for- 
mer liberty : thus the people of Rome, a few 
great ones excepted, found more real freedom 
under their emjierors. though tyrants, than they 
had experienced in the old age of the common- 
wealth, in which their laws were become nu- 
merous and painful, in which new laws were 
every day enacting, and the old ones executed 
with rigom-. They even refused to be rein- 
stated in their foniier prerogatives, upon an 
offer made them to this purpose : for they 
actually found emperors the only means of 
softening the rigours of their constitution. 

The constitution of England is at present 



possessed of the strength of its native oak, and 
the llexibility of the l)ending tamarisk ; but 
should the peojjle at any time, witli a mistaken 
zeal, pant after an imaginary freedom, and 
fancy that abridging monarchy was incre;ising 
their privileges, they would be very much 
mistaken, since every jewel plucked from the 
crown of majesty would only be made use of 
as a bribe to corruption ; it might enrich the 
few who shared it among them, but would in 
fact impoverish the public. 

As the Roman senators, by slow and imper- 
ceptible degrees, became masters of the people, 
yet still flattered them with a show of freedom, 
while themselves only were free, so is it pos- 
sible for a body of men, while they stand up 
for privileges, to grow into an exuberance of 
power themselves, and the public become 
actually dependent, while some of its indivi- 
duals only governed. 

If then, my friend, there sliould in this 
counh-y ever be on the throne a king who, 
through good-nature or age, should give up 
the smallest part of his prerogative to the 
people ; if there should come a minister of 
merit and popularity — but I ha\e room for 
no more. Ailieu. 



LETTER II. 



A BOOKSELLER S VISIT TO THE CHINESE. 



From the Same. 



As I was yesterday seated at breakfast over 
a pensive dish of tea, my meditations were in- 
terrupted by my old friend and companion, 
who introduced astranger, dressed pretty much 
like himself. The gentleman made several 
apologies for his visit, begged of me to impute 
his intrusion to the sincerity of his respect and 
the warmtli of his curiosity. 

As I am very suspicious of my company 
when I find them very civil without any ap- 
parent reason, I answered the stranger's ca- 
resses at first with reserve ; which my friend 
perceiving, instantly let me into my visitant's 
ti-ade and character, asking Mr. Fudge whe- 
thov he had lately published anything new ? I 
now conjectured that my guest was no other 



than a bookseller, and his answer confirmed 
my suspicions. 

" Excuse me, sir,'' says he, " it is not the 
season ; books liave their time as well as cu- 
cumbers. I would no more bring out a new 
work in summer than I would sell pork in 
the dog-days. Nothing in my way goes off 
in summer, except very light goods indeed. 
A review, a magazine, or a sessions-pajier may 
amuse a summer reader ; but all our stock of 
value we reserve for a spring and winter trade." 
" I must confess, sir," says I, '' a curiosity to 
know what you call a valuable stock, which 
can only bear a winter perusal f ' '" Sir," re- 
plied the bookseller, " it is not my way to cry 
\rp my own goods ; but, without exaggeration. 



HOOKSELLER S VISIT TO THE CHINESE. 



107 



1 will venture to show with any of the trade : 
my hooks at Iciist have the peculiar advantage 
of hoiiig always new ; and it is my way to 
clear otl' mv old to the trunk -makers every 
season. 1 have ten new title-pages now ahout 
ine, which only want books to be added to 
make them the linest things in nature. Others 
may pretend to direct the vulgar ; but that 
is not my way ; I always let the vulgar direct 
me ; wherever jwpular clamour arises, I al- 
ways echo the million. For instance, should 
the peo])le in general say tliat sucli a man is 
a rogue, I instantly give orders to set him down 
in print a villain ; thus every man buys the 
book, not to leani new sentiments, but to have 
the pleasure of seeing his own reflected." 
•• But, sir,"" interrupted I, '" you speak as if 
you yourself wrote the hooks you publish ; 
may 1 be so bold as to ask a sight of some of 
those intended publications which are shortly 
to surprise the worhl f "' As to tliat, sir,"" 
replied the talkative bookseller, '• I only draw 
out the plans myself;' and, thougli I am very 
cautious of communicating them to any, yet. 



• The iuuenuity of booksellers has oltcn provoked 
Siitire ; and in the early part of the last century tliey 
were accustomed to resort to tricks wliich would 
now l>e regarded as utterly disgraceful and ruinous. 
When authors also were aniliitious of shining as 
" bloods" and as " men of wit " in coflee-lioiises, and 
led gay and extravagant lives, they necessarily be- 
came dependent upon the booksellers; and, at a time 
when the opportunities of obtaining literary employ- 
ment were not so irreat as they have since become, 
tloubtless this depenilent condition easily brought a 
man of unsteady habits into a state of degradation. 
Itoger North, who died in lT:i4, speaking of the 
booksellers of his day, praises tliera for their knack 
of getting up volumes on subjects of temporary inte- 
rest : "They crack their Ijrains (he s;iys) to find out 
selling subjects, and keep hirelings in garrets, on 
liard me.als, to write and coiTect l>y the grate (by the 
piece ) ; so, pufl" up an cxitavo to a sufficient thickness, 
antl ttiere is six shillings current for an hour and a 
half's readiuL'." Curll, the bookseller, is described 
in the ' Dunciad ' as having " carried the trade many 
lengths beyond what it ever tx-fore had arrived at, 
and that hi- wiis the envy and admiration of his 
profession. I le possessed himself of a command o\ er 
all authors whatj-ver ; he <.'aused them to write wh.at 
he plea-sed ; they coulil nut call their very names 
tlieir own." This l.isl jissertion was true at all events; 
for he w;»s in the habit of publishing vile pieces of 
obscure hands, under the luinies of eminent authors. 
Thus he olten publisheil painphleLs and tr;icts pur- 
porting to be written by .losiph <iay, a lictitiousname 
which led pureliasiTS to believi- that they were from 
the pen of Gay, the poet. In (ioliLsmilh's time these 
disreputable practices began inayrcat measure to be 



as ill the end I have a favour to ask, you sliall 
see a few of them. Here, sir, here they are; 
diainonds of the first water, I assure you. Im- 
p/-imis, a translation of several luedical pre- 
cepts for the use of such ))hysicians as do not 
understand Latin, /(em, the young clergy- 
man's art of placing ])atches regularly, with a 
dissertation on tlie ditVerenl manners of smil- 
ing without distorting tlie face. J/em, the 
whole art of love made perfectly easy, by a 
broker of "Change Alley. Jfeni, the proper 
manner of cutting black-lead pencils and 
; making crayons, i)y the riglit lion, the earl 
I „f***_ J/em, the JMuster-Master General, or 
I the Review of Reviews — "' ''Sir."" cried I, in- 
j terrupting him, " my curiosity with regard to 
[ title-pages is satisfied ; I should be glad to see 
' some longer manuscript, a history or an epic 
! poem."" " Bless me,"" cries the man of in- 
dustry, " now you speak of an epic poem, 
you shall see an excellent tarce. Here it is ; 
j dip into it where you will, it will be fotind 
replete with true modern humour. Strokes, 
sir; it is tilled with strokes of wit and 



scouted by the improved moral feeling of the age ; 
and the more general diffusion of taste and kuow^- 
ledge had increased the demand for Ixjoks to an ex- 
tent which operated favourably to the interests of 
authors and the character of booksellers. Thus 
(ioldsraith, when told by the Karl of Northumber- 
land, viceroy of Ireland, that he should be glad to 
do him any service, replied, — " I look to the book- 
sellers for support ; they are my best frieuiis ;" but 
he recommended his brother, wlio w its in the cliurcli, 
to his lordship's kindness. (Jnldsniith, however, in 
the early part of his career had ample experience of 
the uuoertainlies of authorshi]), and of the diversity 
and heterogeneous mass of subjects on which he w.is 
expecteil to employ his pen. Mr. l'ri,)r h;is endea- 
voured to estimate the sums wliich he received in 
17fi2 for work which he did for the booksellers ; and 
also in what this work consisted. The information is 
curious, :is sliowint; the manner in which a man 
worked his way in the literary profession in London 
eighty years ago. For the pamphlet on the C'ock Lane 
Ghost he received three guhieas ; "The History of 
Mccklenburgh,' if he were actually tlie author, may 
be estimated, by the value of other w orks, at ^101. ; re- 
vising the ' .\rt of Poetry,' 10/.; seven vohimes of 
' Plutarch," 15/.; ' Citizen of the World,' probably 10/. 
or !.">/.; iive sheets of the ' History of Knglaud," two 
guineas; ' Life of N;ish,' fourteen guiucius; occa- 
sional pieces, such as Kss.ays, Prefaces, and Criticisms, 
perhaps 20t., making togetlier by them l:iO/. 'Hie 
work of compil.ation he was ai'customed to cill 
" b\iil(bui; a book." It is not ijuite certain that (iold- 
smith <lirl not, in ITO.'), prepare the story of ' Goody 
Two Shoes ' iu oni' of the forms in which it lias come 
down to the present guueratiou. 



108 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



satire in evory Hue." "no yoii call Uiese 
(lashes oi'flic {)Pii strokes '.'" replied 1, " for I 
must confess 1 can see no other f '* And pray, 
sir," returned he, " what ilo you call them '! 
Do you see anything good now-a-days that is 

not tilled with strokes — and dashes'!' Sir, 

a well-placed dash makes halt' the wit of our 
writers of modern humour. 1 l)oui;ht last 
season a piece that had no other merit upon 
earth than nine hundred and ninety-live breaks, 
seventy-two ha luis, three good things, and a 
garter. And j'et it played off, and bounced, 
and cracked, and made more sport than a tire- 
work." " I fancy then, sir, you were a con- 
siderable gainer '' ' " It must be owned the 
piece did pay : but, upon the whole, I can- 
not much boast of last winter's success ; I 
gained by two murders, but then I lost by an 
ill-timed charity sermon. I was a consider- 
able suii'erer by my Direct Road to an Estate, 
but the Infernal Guide brought me up again. 
Ah, sir, that was a piece touched oil' by the 
hand of a master, filled with good things from 
one end to the other. The author had nothing 
liut the jest in view ; no dull moral lurking be- 
iieatli, nor ill-natured satire to sour the reader's 
good humour ; he wisely considered that mo- 
ral and humour at the same time were quite 
overdoing the business."' " To what purpose 
was the Ijook tiien published '?" cried I. " Sir, 
the book was published in order to be sold ; 
and no book sold better, except the criticisms 
upon it, which came out soon alter: of all 
kinds of writings that goes oil' best at present ; 
and I generally fasten a criticism upon every 
selling book that is published. 

" I once had an author v.ho never left the 
least opening for the critics : close wiis the 
word, always verj^ right and very dull, ever 
on the safe side of an argument; yet, with 
all his qualifications, incapable of coming 
into favour. I soon perceived that his bent 
was for criticism ; and, as he was good for 
nothing else, supplied him with pens and 
paper, and planted him at the beginning of 
every month as a censor on the works of others. 
In short, I found him a treasure ; no merit 
could escape him : but, what is most remark- 
able of all, he ever wrote best and bitterest 
when drunk." " But are there not some 
works," interrupted I, " that, from the very 
manner of their composition, must be e.vempt 
from criticism ; particularly such as profess 



to disregard its laws ?"■ " There is no work 
whatsoever iiut he can criticise," refjlied the 
bookseller ; " even though you wrote in Chi- 
nese he wovdd have a pluck at you. Sup- 
pose you shoidd take it into your head to pub- 
lish a book, let it be a volume of Chinese let- 
ters, for instance : write how you will, he shall 
show the world you could have written better. 
Shoidd you, with the most local exactness, 
stick to the manners and customs of the 
country from whence you come ; sliould you 
confine yourself to the narrow limits of eastern 
knowledge, and be perfectly simple and per- 
fectly natural ; he has then the strongest reason 
to exclaim. He may w ith a sneer send you 
hack to China for reatlers. He may observe 
that, after the first or second letter, the iteration 
of the same simplicity is insupportably te- 
dious ; but the worst of all is, tiie public in 
such a case will anticipate his censures, and 
leave you with all your instructive simplicity 
to be mauled at discretion." 

" Ves, " cried I, •' but, in order to avoid his 
indignation, and, what I should fear more, 
that of the j)ublic, I would, in such a case, 
write w ith all the knowledge I was master of. 
As I am not possessed of much learning, at 
least I would not suppress what little I had ; 
nor would I appear more stupid than nature 
made me." " Here then," cries the book- 
seller, " we should have you entirely in our 
power; unnatural, aneastern. quite out of cha- 
racter, erroneously sensible, would be the 
whole cry ; sir, we should then hunt you 
down like a rat." " Head of my ^father !'' 
said I ; " sure there are but two ways ; the 
door must either be shut, or it must be open. 
I must either be natural or unnatural." " Be 
what you will, we shall criticise you,"' re- 
turned the bookseller, '• and prove you a dunce 
in spite of your teelh. But, sir, it is time that 
I should come to business. I have just 
now in the press a history of China; and, if 
you will but put your name to it as the author, 
1 shall repay the obligation with gratitude.'' 
" What, sir," replied I, " put my name to a 
work which I have not written ! Never, while 
I retain a proper respect for the public and 
myself'.'' — The bluntness of my reply quite 
abated the ardour of the bookseller's conversa- 
tion ; and after about half an hour's disagree- 
able reserve he with some ceremony took his 
leave and withdrew. Adieu. 



DISTINGUISHING MEN BY THEIR DRESS. 



109 



LETTER LII. 

TIIK IMPOSSIBILITV OK UlSTINGlISllING MEN IN ENGLAND BV TIIKIK DUUSS TWO INaTANCliS 

OF THIS. 



From the Same. 



In all other countries, my dear Finn Hoain. 
tlie ricli are ili.stiiii;iiislu'(l l)y flieir dress. In 
Persia. China, and most parts orEuro])o, those 
who are ])ossessed of nmeli ,u;ohl or silver put 
some of it upon tlieir clothes ; l)ut in Ens^land, 
those who cairy much upon their clotlies are 
remarked for having but little in their pockets. 
A tawdry outside is regarded as a badge of 
poverty ; and those who can sit at home, and 
gloat over their thousands in silent satisfac- 
tion, are generally found to do it in plain 
clothes. 

This diversity of tliinking from the rest of 
tlie world which prevails liere, I was first at a 
loss to account for ; but am since informed 
that it was introduced by an intercourse be- 
tween them and their neighbours the French, 
who, whenever they came in order to pay 
tliese islanders a visit, were generally very 
well dressed and very poor, daubed witli 
lace, but all the gihling on the outsiile. Hy 
this means laced clothes have been brought 
so much into contempt, that at present even 
their mandarins are ashamed oflinery. 

I must own myself a convert to English 
simplicity. 1 am no more for ostentation of 
wealth than of learning : the person who in 
company should pretend to lie wiser than 
others, I am apt to regard as illiterate and ill 
lired;the person whose clotlies are extremely 
line, I am too apt to consider ;is not being pos- 
sessed of any superiority of fortune, but re- 
si-mbling those Indians who are found to wear 
all the gold they have in the worUl in a bob 
at the nose. 

I was lately introdurcd into a company of 
tlie best-dressed men I have seen since my 
arrival. Ujion entering the room I was 
struck with awe at the grandeur of the dif- 
ferent dresses. That personage, thought I, in 
blue and gold, must lie some emjieror's son ; 
that ill green and silver, a prince of tlie lilood; 
he in embroidered scarlet, a jirime minister: 
all first-rate noblemen, I sujipose, and well- 



looking nolilemen too. I sat for some time 
witli that uneasiness which conscious infe- 
riority jiroduces in the ingenuous mind, all 
attention to their discourse. However, I found 
tlieir conversation more vulgar than I could 
have expected from personages of such dis- 
tinction : if these, thought I to myself, be 
princes, they are the most stupid princes I 
have ever conversed with ; yet still I continued 
to venerate their dres^ ; for dress has a kind of 
mechanical iiifhience on tlie mind. 

JNIy friend in l)lack, indeed, did not behave 
with the same deference, but contradicted the 
finest of them all in the most peremptory 
tones of contempt. IJut I had scarcely time 
to wonder at the imjirudence of his conduct 
wlien I found occasioTi to be equally surprised 
at the absurdity of theirs ; for, upon the entry 
of a middle-aged man, dressed in a cap, dirty 
shirt, and boots, the whole circle seemed 
diminished of their former importance, and 
contended who should be first to pay their 
obeisance to the stranger. They somewhat 
resembled a circle of Kalmucs olTering in- 
cense to a bear. 

Eager to know the cause of so much seem- 
ing contradiction, I whispered my friend out 
of the room, and Ibund that the august com- 
pany consisted of no other tliaii a dancing- 
master, two iiddleis, and a tliird-rate actor, 
all assembled in order to make a set at coun- 
try dances ; as the middle-aged gentleman 
whom I saw enter was a squire from the 
country, and desirous of learning the new 
manner of footing, and smoothing uji the ru- 
dinn'iits of liis rural minuet. 

I was no longer surprised at tlie authoiity 
which my friend assinned among them ; nay, 
was even dis])leased (pardon my Eastern eihi- 
cation) that he iiad nut kicked every creature 
of them down stairs. " ^^■hat!■" said I, "shall 
a set of such jialtry fellows dress tliemselves 
up like sons of kings, and claim even the 
transitory resjiect of half an lioiir ? 'I'here 



110 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



should he some law to restrain so manifest a 
lireach of privilege: they should go from 
liouse to house, as in China, with the instru- 
ments of their profession strung round their 
necks; hy (his means we might he ahle to 
distinguish and treat them in a style of be- 
coming contempt." " Hold, my friend I" re- 
plied my companion ; " were your reformation 
to take place, as dancing-masters and fiddlers 
now mimic gentlemen in appearance, we 
should then find our fine gentlemen con- 
forming to theirs. A beau might he intro- 
duced to a lady of fashion with a fiddle-case 
hanging at his neck by a red ribbon, and in- 
stead of a cane might carry a fiddle-stick. 
Though to be as dull as a first-rate danc- 
ing-master might be used with proverbial 
justice, yet. dull as he is, many a fine gen- 
tleman sets him up as tlie proper standard of 
politeness; co])ies not only the pert vivacity 
of his air, but the flat insipidity of his conver- 
sation. In short, if you make a law against 
dancing-masters imitating the fine gentleman, 
you should with as much reason enact that 
no fine gentleman shall imitate the dancing- 
master."' 

After I had left my friend I made towards 
home, reflecting as I went u])on the difliculty 
of distinguishing men by their appearance. 
Invited, however, hy the freshness of the even- 
ing, I did not return directly, but went to 
ruminate on what had passed, in a public 
garden belonging to the city. Here, as I sat 
upon one of the benches, and felt the pleasing 
sympathy which nature in bloom inspires, a 
disconsolate figure, wlio sat on the other end 
of the seat, seemed no way to enjoy the se- 
renity of the season. His dress was miserable 
beyond description : a thread-bare coat of the 
rudest materials : a shirt, though clean, yet 
exti-emely coarse : hair that seemed to have 
been long unconscious of the comb ; and all 
the rest of his eijuipage impressed with the 
marks of genuine poverty. 

As he continued to sigli and testify every 
symptom of despair, I was naturally led, 



from a motive of himianity, to offer comfort 
and assistance. You know my heart, and 
that all who are miserable may claim a place 
there. The ])ensive stranger at first declined 
my conversation, but at last, perceiving a 
peculiarity in my accent and manner of 
thinking, he began to unfold himself Ity de- 
grees. 

I now found that he was not so very miser- 
able as he at first appeared ; upon my offering 
him a small piece of money, he refused my 
favour, yet without appearing displeased at 
my intended generosity. It is true, he some- 
times intenupted the conversation with a sigh, 
and talked pathetically of neglected merit ; 
yet still I could perceive a benignity in his 
countenance that, upon a closer inspection, 
bespoke inward content. 

Upon a pause in the conversation I was 
going to take my leave, when he begged I 
would favour him with my company home to 
supper. I v.-as surprised at such a demand 
from a person of his appearance, but, willing 
to indulge curiosity, I accepted his invitation, 
and, though I felt some repugnance at being 
seen with one who appeared so very wretched, 
went along with seeming alacrity-. 

Still as he approached nearer home his 
good humour proportionably seemed to in- 
crease. At last he stopped, not at the gate of 
a hovel, but of a magnificent palace ! When 
I cast my eyes upon all the sumptuous ele- 
gance which everywhere presented upon enter- 
ing, and then when I looked at my seemingly 
miseral)le conductor. I could scarcely think 
that all this finery belonged to him ; yet in 
fact it did. Numerous servants ran through 
the apartments with silent assiduity : several 
ladies of beauty, and magnificently dressed, 
came to welcome his return; a most elegant 
supper was provided : in short, I found the 
person whom a little before I had sincerely 
pitied to be in reality a most refined epicure 
I ^one who courted contempt abroad, in order 
to feel with keener gust the pleasures of pre- 
eminence at home. Adieu. 



TRISTRAM SHAXDY RIDICULED. 



Ill 



LETTER LIU. 

THE AHSIHD TASTE KOK OBSCENli AND PERT NOVELS, Sl'CH AS ' TKISTRAM SHANDY,' 

UIDICL'LED.' 

From the Same. 



How often have we adniireil the eloquence of 

Europe! tliat streiigtli of tliiiikiiiij, that deli- 
cacy of iinagiiiatioii. even lieyoiul tlie etl'orts 
of the Chinese themselves ! How were we en- 
raptured with those Ijold lig\ires which sent 
every sentiment witli force to the heart ! How 
have we si)ent whole days together in leartiing 
those arts bj' which Eurojiean writers got 
within the passions, and led the reader as if 
by enchantment I 

But. though we have learned most of the 
rhetorical ligures of the last age. yet there 
seems to be one or two of great use here 
which have not yet travelled to China. The 
figures I mean are called bawdry and pert- 
iiess : none are more fashionable, none so 
sure of aihuirers ; they are of such a nature 
that the merest blockhead, by a jiroper use of 
them, shall have the reputation of a wit; they 
lie level to the meanest capacities, and address 
those passions which all have or would be 
ashamed to disown. 

It has been observed, and 1 believe witli 
some truth, that it is very difficult lor a dunce 
to ol>tain the reputation of a wit : yet. by the 
assistance of the figure bawdry, this may l)e 
easily eflected, and a Ijawdy blockliead often 
passes for a fellow of smart parts and preten- 
sions. Everv object in nature helps the jokes 
forward, without scarcely any cllort of the 
imagination. If a lady stands, something 
very good may be said upon that ; if she hap- 
pens to fall, with the help of a little fashion- 

' The pnot Gray, wiitinj; I'rora London on the 22n(l 
of June, 1*60, s;iys - " 'I'rist raiu Shumly is still .-i 
greater oliji'ct of admirati in, the m:in lus wellastlu' 
hook : one is inviti-d to dinner where he dines a fort- 
night before, .^s to the volumes yet published, there 
is much good fun in them, and humour sometimes 
hit and sometimes missed." Johnson viewed the 
merit of Sterne's work in much the same light ; and 
he would not allow tioldsmith to push him into 
an admission that Sterne w;ls " a very dull fellow." 
.\Uhough tliere may be much to object to in ' Tris- 
tram Shandy,' Ihi-re is much of ('xtraoriliuary merit ; 
and Uoldsmith must have been stnuigely prejudiced 
to consider him either "port" or " dull." 



able pruriency, there are forty sly things ready 
on tlie occa,sion. But a prurient jest has 
always been found to give most jjleasure to a 
few very old gentlemen, who, being in some 
measure dead to other sensations, feel the force 
of the allusion wilh double violence on the 
organs of risibility. 

An author who writes in this manner is ge- 
nerally sure, therefore, of having the very old 
and the impotent among his admirers ; for 
these lie may properly be said to write, and 
from these he ought to expect his reward; his 
works being often a very proper succedaneum 
to caiitharides, or an asafujtida pill. His 
pen should be considered in the same light as 
the squirt of an apothecarj', both being di- 
rected at the same generous end. 

But though this manner of writing be per- 
fectly adapted to tlie taste of gentlemen and 
ladies of fashion here, yet still it deserves 
greater praise in being equally suited to the 
most vulgar apprehensions. The very ladies 
and gentlemen of Benin or Cafraria are in 
this respect tolerably polite, and might relish 
a prurient joke of this kind with critical 
pro[)riety ; i)robal)ly too with higher gust, as 
they wear neither l)reeches nor jjetticoats to 
intercept the application. 

It is certain I never could have expected 
the ladies here, biassed as they are by educa- 
tion, capable at once of bravely throwing ofl' 
their prejudices, and not only applauding 
books in whicrh this figure makes the only 
merit, but even adopting it in their own con- 
versation. Vet so it is; the j)retty innocents 
now carry those books openly in their hands 
which formerly were hid under the cushion; 
they now lisp tiieir double meanings with so 
much grace, and talk over the raptures they 
bestow with such little reserve, that I am 
sometimes reminded of a custom among the 
entertainers in (^hina, who think it a j)iece of 
necessary breeding to whet the appetites of 
their guests, by letting them smell dinner in 
the kitchen, before it is served up to table. 



112 



CITIZEN OF TIIK WORLD. 



Tlie vciit'riitii)ii we liavc for many tliiiia:.s 
piitirelv procfH'ds f'lDni tlicir l)tii|i^ <;.ir('riilly 
concealed. Were the idolatrous 'I'artar ])er- 
niittcd to lilt the veil which keejis his idol 
from view, it might be a certain method to 
cure his future sujjerstitioii : with what a 
liohle spirit of freedom, therefore, nuist that 
writer be possessed who bravely paints things 
as they are, who lifts tlie veil of modesty, 
who displays the most hidden recesses of the 
temple, and shows the erring people that the 
object of their vows is either, perhaps, a 
mouse or a monkey. 

However, though this figure be at present 
so much in fashion; though the professors of 
it are so much caressed by the great, those 
perfect judges of literary excellence ; yet it 
is confessed to be only a revival of what was 
once fashionable here before. There was a 
time when, by this very manner of writing, 
the gentle Tom D"Urfey, as I read in English 
authors. ac(juired his great reputation, and 
became the favourite of a king.' 

The works of this original genius, thougli 
they never travelled abroad to Cliina, and 
scarcely have reached ])osterity at home, were 
once found upon every fashionable toilet, and 
made the subject of polite — I mean very polite 
-^conversation. " Has your""grace seen Mr. 
D'L'rfey"s last new thing, the Oylet Hole. 
A most facetious piece ! "' " Sure, my lord, 
all the world must have seen it ; D'Urfey is 

1 D'Urfey's parents were French refugees, residing 
at Exeter, where he was Iwrn aliout tlie middle of 
the seventeenth century. Having been rather suc- 
cessful in some attempts in lii;ht literature, he .aban- 
doned the study of the law, and wrote innumerable 
odes, satires, and other pieces, to promote the cause 
of the royalists. This gained him the favour of 
Charles 11.; and his talents were of a nature c.al- 
c\ilated to render him a favourite in that <,'ay and 
licentious court. He sanj; as well iis wrote soiii;s; 
and .\ddison says, in the (Juardian, No. f,~ , — " I 
myself remember Kin^ C'harles II. leaiiini; on Tom 
K'Urfcys shoulder more than once, and hummins,' 
over a son^ with him." lie even fmnd his way 
into the court of William III., and of his sviccessor, 
(Jueen Anne, who f,'ave him lifty guineas for singin;; 
to her a sons; ridiculin',' the Electress Dowa^'er of 
Hiinover. AVitli the improvement of manners and 
morals, D'l'rfey's loose dramatic pieces lune been 
banished from the stase— the ' Eylet Hole' amoni;st 
the rest. In his old age he fell into {Treat distress, and 
was relieved by Addison, by whose interest he ol>- 
tained a benefit at one of the theatres. He died in 
1723 : his works are contained in si.\ volumes, en- 
titled 'Wit aiul Mirth,' 



(•ertainly tlie most comical creature alive. It 
is impossil)le to read his things and live. Was 
tliere ever anything so natural and pretty as 
when the Squire and IJridget meet in the 
cellar? And then the difliculties they both 
find in broaching the beer-barrel are so arch 
and so ingenious! We have certaiidy no- 
thing of this kind in the language." In this 
manner they spoke then, and in this manner 
they speak now ; for, though the successor of 
DUrfey does not excel him in wit, the world 
must confess he outdoes him in obscenity. 

There are several very dull fellows, who, 
by a few mechanical helps, sometimes leant 
to become extremely brilliant and pleasing 
with a little dexterity in tlie management of 
the eye-brows, fingers, and mise. Hy imi- 
tating a cat, a sow, and j)igs; by a loud laugh, 
and a slap on the shoulder; the most igno- 
rant are furnished out for conversation. Hut 
the writer finds it impossible to throw his 
winks, his shrugs, or his attitudes upon 
paper ; he may borrow some a.ssistance, in- 
deed, by printing his face at tlie tifle-page ; 
but, witliotit wit, to pass for a man of in- 
genuity, no other mechanical help but down- 
right obscenity will suffice. liy speaking to 
some peculiar sensations, we are always sure 
of exciting laughter, for the jest does not lie 
in the writer, but in tlie subject. 

But bawdry is often helped on by another 
figure, called pertness ; and tew indeed are 
found to excel in one that are not possessed of 
the other. As in common conversation the 
best way to make the atidience laugh is by 
first laughing yoiu-self, so in writing the 
properest manner is to show an attempt at 
humour, ^vhich will pass upon most for 
hinnoiir in reality. To etVect this, readers 
must be tie.'ited with the most perfect fami- 
liarity : ill one page the author is to make 
them a low bow, and in the next to pull 
them l)y the nose ; he must talk in riddles, 
and then send them to bed in order to dream 
for the solution. He nutst speak of himself, 
and his chapters, and his manner, and what 
he would be at, and his ov.n importance, and 
his mother's importance, with the most nn- 
pitying prolixity; now and then testifying 
liis contempt for all but himself, smiling 
without a jest, and without wit professing 
vivacity. Adieu. 



CHARACTER 01-' A TRIFI.ER. 



113 



LETT K 11 LIV 



THE ClI.VRACTtIt OI' AN I.Ml'JKTANT TIUi-LER. 
Fruin /lie Sdiiie. 



TiioLGii iiatiiraH\ iR-usive, yet I am fond of 
gaj' company, and take ovi-ry oiii)<)rtuiiity of 
thus disiiiis^iii!^ tlie mind from duty. From 
tliU motive, I am often foun<l in the centre of 
a crowd ; and, wherever pleasure is to be sold, 
am always a purchaser. In those places, 
without being remarked liy any, I join in 
whatever goes forv.ard, v.ork my p;issions into 
a similitude of frivolous earnestness, shout as 
they shout, and condenni as they liappen to 
disapprove. A mind thus svuik for a while 
below its natural standanl is qualified for 
stronger flights, as those first retire who would 
spring forward with greater vi:,'our. 

Attracted by the s?renity of the evening, 
my friend and I lately wont to gaze iipon the 
company in one of the j)ul)lic walks near tiie 
city. Here we sauntered together for some 
time, either praising the lieauty of such as 
were liandsjiiie, or the dresses of such as had 
nothing else to recommend them. We had 
gone thus deliljerately forward for some time, 
when, stopping on a sudden, my friend 
caught me iiy the elliow. and led me out of 
the piiblic walk. I could perceive, by the 
quickness of his pace, and Jiy his frequen'ily 
looking behind, that he v.iis attempting to 
avoid somebody who followed : we mow 
turned to the right, then to the left ; as we 
went forward he still went faster, but in vain; 
file person whom he attempted to escape 
hunted us through every doubling, ami 
gained ujion us each moment ; so that at last 
we fairly stijoil still, resolving to face what 
we could not avoid. 

Our pursuer soon came up, and joined us 
with all tiic familiarity of an old accjuaint- 
ance. *' ?.Iy dear Drybone,"' cries he, shaking 
my fiiend"s iiand, "where have you been 
hiding this half-a-century V Positively I 
hail fancied you were gone down to cultivate 
matrimony and your estate in the country." 
During the reply I had an opportunity of 
surveying the appearance of our new coni- 
paiiion ; his hat was pinchetl up with jwculiar 



smartness; his looks were pale, thin, and 
shai-]) ; round his neck he wore a broad black 
ribbon, and in his bosom a buckle studded 
with glass ; his coat was trimmed with tar- 
nished twist ; he wore by his side a sword 
with a black hilt, and his stockings of silk, 
though newly washed, were grown yellow by 
long service. 1 was so much engaged by the 
peculiirity of his dress, that I attended only 
to tlie latter part of my iVicnds reply, in 
which he complimented ^Ir. Tibbs on the 
taste of his clothes and the bloom of his 
countenance : '• Psha, i)sha. Will!"' cried the 
figure ; '• no more of that if you love me ; 
you know I hate flattery, on my soul I do; 
and yet, to be sure, an intimacy with the 
great will improve one's appearance, and u 
course of vetiison will fatten ; and yet, faith, 
I despise the great as much as you do : but 
there are a great many danm'd honest fellows 
among them ; and we must not quarrel with 
one half because the other wants breeding. 
If they were all such as my Lord JMudler, 
one of the most good-natured creatures that 
ever Sfiueezed a lemon, I shoidd myself be 
among the nuu'.ber of their admirers. I was 
yesterday to dine at the Duchess of Picca- 
dilly's. My lord v/as there. ' Ned,' says he 
to me, ' Ned,' says he, ' 111 hold gold to silver 
I can tell where you v/ere poaching last night.'- 
' Poaching ! my lord,' says I; 'faith, you 
have missed already ; for 1 staiil at home, 
and let the girls ])oach for me. That 's my 
way ; I take a fine woman as some animals 
do their prey — stand still, and swoop they 
fall into my mouth. " 

"Ah, Tibbs, thou art a hapjiy fdlow!" 
cried my companion, with looks of infinite 
pity; "I hope yoiu" fortune is as much im- 
proved as your understanding in such com- 



pany 



" Imjiroved ! ' n-plied the ollnr; 



"you shall know. — but let il go no further. — 
a great secret — live hundred a-year to i)egiii 
with. 3Iy lord's word ot' honour for it ; his 
lurdsliip took me down in his own chariot 

1 



114 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



j'esterday, and we had a tete-a-tete diiimr In 
the country, where we talked of iiotliiiij^ 
else." " I fancy you forget, sir," cried I, 
" you told us hut this moment of your dining 
yesterday in town." " Did I say so?" re- 
plied he coolly ; " to be sure if 1 said so it 
was so — dined in town : egad, now I do re- 
member, I did dine in town; but 1 dined in 
the country too; for you must know, my 
bovs, I eat two dinners. By llie bye. I am 
grown as nice as the devil in my eating. 1 11 
tell you a pleasant all'air about tliat. We 
were a select ])arty of us to dine at Lady 
Grogram"s, an afl'ected piece— but let it go no 
furtiier— a secret : well, there happened to be 
no asafuetida in the sauce to a turkey; upon 
which says I, I "11 hold a thousand guineas, 
and say done tirst, that — But, dear Drybone, 
you are an honest creature; lend me half-a- 
crown for a minute or two, or so, just till — 
but harkee, ask me for it the next time we 
meet, or it may be twenty to one but I forget 
to pay you." 

When he left us our conversation naturally 
turned upon so exti-aordinary a character. 
" His very dress,"" cries my friend, " is not less 



extraordinary than his conduct. If you meet 
him this day. you find liim in rags, if the 
next, in embroidery. With those persons of 
distinction of whom he talks so familiarly 
he has scarcely a colVee-house acquaintance. 
However, both for the interests of society and 
perhaps for liis own. Heaven has made him 
poor ; and, while all the world perceive his 
wants, he fancies them concealed from every 
eye. An agreeable companion, because he 
understands flattery; and all must be pleased 
with the tirst part of his conversation, though 
all are sure of its ending with a demand on 
their purse. While his youth countenances 
tlie levity of his conduct, he may thus earn 
a precarious subsistence, but, when age comes 
on, the gravity of which is incompatible 
with butl'oonery, then will he find himself 
forsaken by all ; condemned in the decline of 
life to hang upon some rich family whom he 
once despised, there to undergo all the inge- 
nuity of studied contempt, to be employed 
oidy as a spy upon the servants, or a bug-bear 
to fright the children into obedience."' 
Adieu. 



LETTER LY. 

HIS CHARACTER CONTINUED; WITH THAT OK HIS WIFE, HIS HOl'SE, AND FURNITURE. 

From the Same. 



I AM apt to fancy I have contracted a new 
acquaintance whom it will be no easy matter 
to shake otl". My little beau yesterday over- 
took me again in one of the public walks, and, 
slapping me on th,e shoulder, saluted me with 
an air of the most perfect familiaritj'. His 
dress was the same as usual, except that he 
had more powder in his hair, wore a dirtier 
shirt, a pair of temple spectacles, and his hat 
under his arm. 

As I knew him to be a harmless amusing 
little thing, I could not return his smiles 
with any degree of severity; so we walked 
forward on tei-ms of the utmost intimacy, 
and in a few minutes discussed all the usual 
topics preliminary to particular conversa- 
tion. 

The oddities that marked his character, 



however, soon began to appear; lie l)Owed to 
several well-dressed persons, who by their 
manner of returning tlie compliment appear- 
ed perfect strangers. At intervals lie dievf 
out a pocket-book, seeming to take memoran- 
dums before all the company witli much 
importance and assiduity. In this manner 
he led me through the length of the whole 
walk, fretting at his absurdities, and fancying 
myself laughed at no less than him by every 
spectator. 

When we were got to the end of our proces- 
sion, " Blast me," cries he with an air of 
vivacity, " I never saw the park so thin in 
my life before ! there 's no company at all 
to-day; not a single face to be seen." "No 
company !" interrupted I, peevishly ; " no 
company where there is such a crowd V why, 



TRIFLER S CHARACTER CONTINL'ED. 



115 



man, there "s too much. What are the thou- 
samls that h.ive heeii lau^'liii);? at u.s but coin- 
iwiiy ?"' '• Ia)i-(1, my dear," retiu-iied he. witli 
tlie utniDst good humour, " you seem iin- 
meii-!elv cha;^riiied; but blast me, wlieu the 
world lauijhsat me I lau.;li at all the world, 
and so we are even. My Lord Trip, Hill 
.Squash, the Creolian, and I, sometimes make 
a jiarty at beiiij; ridiculous: and so we say 
and do a thousand tliiii;js fi)r the joke's sake. 
But I see you are Cfrave, and, if you are for a 
fine grave sentimental companion, you shall 
dine willi me and my wife to-day; I must 
insist out; I'll introduce you to Mrs. Tibbs, 
a lady of as elegant fjualitications as any in 
nature; she was bred — l)ut tint's l)etween our- 
selves — under the inspection of tlie Countess 
of All-night. A charming body of voice ; 
but no more of that — she will give us a song. 
Vou shall ses my little girl too. Carolina 
Whilhelmina Amelia Tibbs, a sweet pretty 
creature! I design her for my Lord Drum- 
stick's eldest son; but that's in friendship, let 
it go no farther: she "s but six years old, and 
yet she walks a minuet and plays on the 
guitar immensely already. 1 intend she shall 
be as perfect as passible in every accomplish- 
ment. In the first place, I '11 make her a 
scholar ; I '11 teach her Greek myself, and 
learn that language purposely to instruct her ; 
but let that be a secret." 

Thus saying, without waiting for a reply, 
he took me by the arm, and hauled me along. 
We passed through many dark alleys and 
winding ways; for, from some motives to me 
unknown, he seemed to have a particular 
aversion to every frequented street ; at last, 
however, we got to the door of a dismal-look- 
ing house in the outlets of the town, where he 
informed me he chose to reside for the benefit 
of the air. 

We entered the lower door, which ever 
seemefl to lie most lr)spitably o])en : anil I 
Ijegan to ascend an old and creaking stair- 
case, when, as he mounted to show me the 
way, he demanded whether I delighted in 
prospects; to wiiicli answering in the aflirma- 
tive, " Then," says he, " I shall sh >\v you one 
of the most charming in the world out of my 
wind)w; wo sii ill see the shi])? sailing, and 
the whole country for twenty miles round, 
tip-top, quite high. My Ljrd Swamp would 



give ten thousand guineas for such a one ; 
but, as I sometimes pleasantly tell him, I 
always love to keep my prospects ut home, 
that my friends may see me the oftener." 

]3y tliis time we were an-ived as high as the 
stairs would permit us to ascend, till we came 
to what he was facetiously pleased to call the 
first door down the chimney ; and, knocking 
at the door, a voice fr.)m within demanded, 
who 's there ? My coTidtictor answered that it 
was him. Hut this not satisfying the querist, 
the voice again repeated the demand : to 
which he answered louder than before ; and 
now the door was opened by an old woman 
with cautious reluctance. 

When we were got in he welcomeil me to 
his house with great ceremony, and, turning 
to tlie old woman, asked where was her lady ? 
•' Good troth, " replied she, in a peculiar dia- 
lect, '• she "s washing your twa shirts at the 
next door, because they have taken an oath 
against lending out the tub any longer.'' 
'• My two shirts ! " cried he in a tone that 
faltered with confusion ; " what does the 
idiot mean f •' I ken what I mean weel 
enough,'' replied the other; "she's washing 
your twa shirts at the next door, because — "' 
•' Fire and fury ! no more of tliy stupid ex- 
planations," cried he ; *' go and inform her 
we have got company. Were that Scotch 
hag to be for ever in the family, she would 
never leant politeness, nor forget tint absurd 
poisonous accent of hers, or testify the small- 
est sjjecimL'u of breeding or liigh life ; and yet 
it is very surprising, too, as I hail her from a 
parliament-man, a frien;! of mine from the 
Highlands, one of the politest men in the 
world ; but that 's a secret."' 

We waited some time for Mrs. Tibbs's 
arrival, during which interval I had a full 
opportunity of surveying the chamber and all 
its furniture, whicli coujisted of four chairs 
witli old wrought bottoms, that he assured me 
were his wife's emliroidery ; a square table 
that had been once japanned ; a cradle in one 
comer, a lumt)ering cabinet in the other ; a 
broken shepherdess, and a mandarin without 
a head, were stuck over the chimney ; and 
rotmd the walls several paltry unframed pic- 
tures, whicli, he observed, were all his own 
drawing. ■• What do you think, sir, of that 
head in tJie corner, done in the manner of 

I 2 



116 



CITIZEN OF THE WOULD. 



firisoni ? flioie *s the true keeping in it ; it "s 
my own face; and, tlion^'li there liapjicns to lie 
no likeness, a countess olVeied me a hundred 
for its fellow : I refused her. for, hang it! that 
would be merhaiiical, you know." 

The wife at last made her a])])enrance, at 
once a slattern and a cocjuet ; much emaci- 
ated, but still carryina; the remains of beauty. 
She made twenty apologies for being seen in 
such odious dishabille, but hope<l to be ex- 
cused, as she had staid out all night at the 
gardens with the countess, who was exces- 
sively fond of the horns. " And, indeetl, my 
dear," added she, turning to her husband, 
''his lordship drank your health in a bumper." 
" Poor Jack ! " cries he ; " a dear good-natured 
creature ; I know he loves me : but I hope, my 
dear, you have given orders for dinner ; you 
need make no great preparations neither, there 
are but three of us; something elegant and 
little will do ; a tuibjt, an ortolan, or a "' 



"Or what do you think, my dear," interrupts 
the wife, "of a nice jirelty bit of ox-cheek, 
))i])ing hot, and dressed with a little of my 
own sauce?" "The very thing, " replies he; 
" it will eat best with some smart bottled 
beer ; but be sure to let "s have the sauce his 
grace was so fond of. I hate your inniieiise 
loads of meat; that is counti-y all over; ex- 
tremely disgusting to tliose who are in the 
least acquainted with high life." 

By this time my curiosity l)egan to alxate, 
and my ajjpetite to increase ; the company of 
fools maj' at first make us smile, but at last 
never fails of rendering us melancholy: I 
therefore pretended to recollect a prior engage- 
ment, and, after having shown my respect to 
the house, according to the fashion of the 
English, by giving the old servant a ])iece of 
money at tlie door, I took my leave ;' Mrs. 
Tibbs assuring me that dinner, if I staid, 
would be ready at least in less than two hours. 



LETTER LYI. 



THE rUESENT SITIATION OF Till'; SEVEIiAL .STATES OF EritOPE. 
From Finn Hua/ii to Alt(iii<ji^ the discontented Jl'a/iderer. 



The distant sounds of music tjiat catch new 
sweeiness as they vibrate tlu'ough the long- 
drawn valley are not more pleasing to the 
ear than tlie tidings of a far distant friend. I 
liave just received two hundred of thy letters 
by the Russian caravan, descrijjtive of the 
manners of Europe. \'ou have left it to 
geograpliers to determine the size of the moun- 
tains and extent of their lakes, seeming only 



' Ths (lisaL'recatjIe ami unsatisfactory pmctico of 
giving money to servants was less onerous than it had 
been at an earlier period ; liut it wascmly in 17.59 that 
a bold attempt was made to t'et rid of it by a meeting 
of the principal gentlemen of the county of Al)erdeen, 
■wlien they passed res )lutions declaring the custom 
" not only pernicious in respect to ser\ants, but like- 
wise a thing shameful, indecent of itself, and destruc- 
tive to all real hospitality : that they would discourai,'e 
it as far as lay in their power; and for that purpose 
cngaf;ed and f;a\e mutually their ^^ord of lioiiour 
that in visiting one another they would i,'i\e no mo- 
ney to servants, nor allow their own servants to take 
any money fve.m their guests." Tlie example of the 



employed in di-icovering the genius, the go- 
vernment, and disposition of the people. 

In those letters I perceive a journal of the 
operations of your mind upon wliatever oc- 
ciu-s, ratlier tlian a iletail of your travels from 
one building to another; of your taking a 
draught of this ruin or that obelisk ; of pay- 
ing so many tomans for this commodity, or 
laying up a proper store for the passage of 
some new wilderness. 

gentlemen of .\berdecn w;is successfully followed, 
but it was not without a general and strenuous <'ITort 
that the practice was aliolislied. Dr. King tells a 
stoiy of a Lord I'uer, a Koman Catholic peer of Ire- 
land, who li\ed upon a small pension whieli Queen 
Anne had granted liim, and who, bein^' often invited 
to dinner by th ■ Duke of Ormond, invariably excused 
himself; and at len;;fh, being pressed by the duke 
for the reason, tlie poor peer at length confessed that 
lie could not alVord it. "But," says he, "if your 
Kraco will put a guinea into my hands every lime 
you invite me to liine, I will not decline the houour 
of waiting on vou." 



SriTATlOX OF TllK S lATKS OF KlltOl'E. 



117 



From your account of Russia I learn that 
this nation is as^ain rclaxin;^ into ])risfine bar- 
barity ; that its i^reat eni]x?ror wanted a lite 
of a luuiilred years more to brin<5 ahovit his 
vast ilesiijn. A savage j)eople may be resem- 
bled to their own forests; a few years are 
sufficient to clear away the obstructions to 
agriculture, but it retjuires many ere the 
ijrouml acquires a proper deifree of fertility : 
the kussians, attached to their ancient jireju- 
dices, again renew their hatred to strangers, 
and induljie every former brutal excess. So 
true it is that the revolutions of wisdom are 
slow and dillicult, the revolutions of folly or 
ambition precipitate and easy. " ^^ e are not 
to be astonished." says Confucius, " that the 
wise walk more slowly in their road to virtue 
than fools in their p;issage to vice ; since pas- 
sion drags us along, while wisdom only points 
out the way." ' 

The (I'erman empire, that re)nuant of tlie 
majesty of ancient Home, appears, from your 
account, on the eve of dissolution. The mem- 
bers of its vast body want every tie of govern- 
ment to unite them, and seem feebly held 
together oidy by their respect for ancient insti- 
tutions. The very name of the country and 
countrymen, which in other nations makes 
one of the strongest bonds of government, has 
been here for some time laid aside ; each of 
its inbaliitanls seeming more ])roud of being 
called from the petty state wliich gives him 
birth tlian by the more well-known title of 
German. ■■' 

This govenmient may be regarded in the 
light of a severe master and a feeble opijonent. 
Tlie states wliich are now subject to the laws 
of the empire are only watching a proper oc- 
casion to fling olV the yoke, and those which 
are Ijecome too powerful to be compelled to 
obedience now begin to think of dictating in 



' Tliis fiue m.-ixim is not found in tlie I..itin clilion 
of Ihe morals of Confiic-iiis, l)ut we liiid it iisciil)eil to 
him liy Le Comte, ' litat I'ri-sent do lu Chine,' tom. 
i. i>. .!)?. 

* The Gcrm.-in empire, after rcmainin;; a mere 
hli.uiow of a political puwer for atmve arcniiiry, was 
iILssdIvimI iu IHOfi, and w.is suoreeded liy the- I'on- 
fuderatioii of the Hhiiii", which rennited many of the 
Gorman slates umlcr Nap di">n. At thi; closi- of the 
war the (iernianii'Coiifi'ilirationHas furmoil to secure 
the indepcndenrc an<l preserve the internal peace of 
the \arious states. 



their turn. The stmggles in this state are, 
therefore, not in order to preserve l)ut to de- 
stroy flie ancient constitution : if one side 
succeeds, the government must become des- 
potic; if tlie other, several states will sulisist 
without nominal suhordiiiation ; but in either 
case tlie Germanic constitution will ha no 
more. 

Sweden, on the contrary, though now 
seemingly a strenuous asscrter of its liberties, 
is probably only hastening on to despotism. 
Their senators, while they pretend to vindi- 
cate the freedom of the people, are only 
establishing their own independence. The 
deluded people will, however, at last perceive 
the miseries of an aristocrat ical government; 
they will perceive that the administration of 
a society of men is ever more painful than 
that of one only. They will (ly from this 
most oppressive of all forms, where one single 
memlier is capable of controlling the whole, 
to take refuge under tlie throne, which will 
ever be attentive to their complaints. No 
people long endure an aristocratical govern- 
ment when they can apply elsewhere for 
redress. The lower orders of people may be 
enslaved for a time by a muiilier of tyrants, 
I)ut upon the first opportunity they will 
ever take a refuge in despotism or demo- 
cracy.^ 

As the Swedes are making concealed ap- 
proaches to despotism, the French, on the 
other hand, are imperceptibly vindicathig 
themselves into freedom. When 1 consider 
tiiat those parliaments (the members of which 
are all created by tlie coint, the presitlents of 
which can act only by imniediatt! direction) 
presimie even to mention privileges and 
freedom, who, till of late, received di- 
rections from the tlirone with implicit hu- 
mility; when this is considered, I cannot help 
fancying that the genius of freedom has en- 
tered that kingilom in disguise. Jf they 
have but three weak monarehs more succes- 
sively on the throne, the m;isk will be laid 

3 Diirini; the rei;^ of .\doIphus Frederick, from 
1751 to 1771, the aristocracy made constant en- 
croachmciils (m the rcijal aiithorily ; and in none of 
the political chanu'es which lia\o since taken place 
in that country has tlicir ii..»er tiecn diminished. 
The very circumstances which this letter predicted 
■IS likely to occur in Sweden diil take place in 
Uenmark. 



118 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



aside, and the country will certainly once 
move be free.' 

When I compare the figure which the 
Dutch make in Europe with that they 
assume in Asia, I am struck with surprise. 
In Asia 1 find them the'great lords of all the 
Indian seas; in Europe, the timid inhabitants 
of a paltry state. No longer the sons of 
freedom, but of avarice; no longer assertors 
of their right.s i)y courage, but by negoti- 
ations; fawning on those who insult them, 
and crouching under the rod of every neigh- 



bouring power. Without a friend to save 
them in distress, and without virtue to save 
themselves, their govemment is poor, and 
tlieir ])rivate wealth will serve to invite some 
neighboiu-ing invader. 

1 long with impatience for your letters from 
England, Denmark. Holland, and Italy; yet 
my wish is for relations which ordy describe 
new calamities, which show that ambition 
and avarice are equally terrible in every 
region ! Adieu. 



LETTER LVII. 



THE DIFFICVLTV OF RISING IN LITEKARV liKPlTATION WITHOUT INTRIGUE OR RICHES. 
From Lien Chi Altaiiji to Finn Hoam. S^'C. 



I HAVE frequently admired the manner of 
criticising in China, where the learned are 
assembled in a body to judge of every new 
publication, to examine the merits of the 
work without knowing the circumstances of 
the author, and then to usher it into the 
world with proper marks of respect or repro- 
bation. 

In England there are no such tribunals 
erected ; but, if a man thinks proper to be a 
judge of genius, few will be at the pains to 
contradict his pretensions. If any choose to 
be critics, it is but saying they are critics, 
and from that time forward the}' become 
invested with full power and authority over 
every caititf who aims at their instruction or 
entertainment. 

As almost every member of society has by 
this means a vote in literary tr-ansactions. it 
is no way sm-prising to find the rich leading 
the way here, as in other common concerns 
of life, to see them either bribing the nu- 



1 Lord Chestcrfii'lil was fully impressed witli the [ 
imjicndin^ political crisis in I'rance several years 
before this letter was written; and his vii'vs had 
doubtless bccnme general in his own circle. In a 
letter dated December 25th, 1753, his lordship re- 
marks : " All the symptons whicli I have ever met 
with in history previous to great changes and revolu- 
tions in governments now exist and daily increase 
in France/ * This letter was not, however, published 
until 1774, with the general coUectijn of his corre- 
spondence. 



merous herd of voters by their interest, or 
brow-beating them by their authority. 

A great man says, at his talile, that such a 
book is " no bad thing." Immediately the 
praise is carried oft' by five flatterers to be 
dispersed at twelve diflerent coffee-houses, 
from whence it circulates, still improving as 
it proceeds, through forty-five houses where 
cheaper liquors are sold; from thence it is 
carried away by the honest tradesman to his 
own fire-side, where the applause is eagerly 
caught up by his wife and children, who 
have been long taught to regard his judgment 
as the standard of perfection. Thus, when 
we have traced a wide-extended literary 
reputation up to its original source, we shall 
find it derived from some great man. who has, 
perhaps, received all his education and 
English from a tutor of Berne, or a danchig- 
master of Pieardy. 

The English are a people of good sense; 
and I am the more surprised to find them 
swayed in their opinions by men who often, 
from their very education, are incompetent 
judges. Men who, being always bred in 
affluence, see the world only on one side, are 
surely improper judges of human nature : 
they may indeed describe a ceremony, a 
pageant, or a ball; but how can they pretend 
to dive into the secrets of the human heart, 
who have been nursed up only in forms, and 
daily behold nothing but the same insipid 



DIFFICII-TY OF RISING IN LITEKARY REPUTATION. 



119 



adulutiiiii sniiliiiLr it]]()ii every face ? Few of 
tlieiii have lieeii l)ieil in that liest of' schools, 
tlie school of adversity; anil, by what I can 
learn, fewer still have been bred in any school 
at all. "■• -""-^ 

From such a description one would think 
that a dronin:^ duke or a dowa^jer duchess 
Wiis not possessed of more just pretensions to 
taste fiian persons of less quality ; and yet 
whatever the one or the other may write or 
praise shall pass for ^Jerfectiou without fur- 
ther examination. A nobleman luis but to 
take a pen, ink, and paper, and write away 
tliroui;h three larire volumes, anil tlien sign 
his lame to the title-pa^jje; though the whole 
mig-Iit have been before more disgusting than 
his own rent-roll, yet signing his name and 
ti*Je gives value to the deed : title being 
alone equivalent to taste, imagination, and 
genius.' 

As soon as a piece therefore is puldished, 
the lirst questions are, Who is the autlior? 
does he keep a coach ? where lies his estate? 
what .sort of a table does he keep? If he 
hajjpens to be pnor and ini(|nalilied for sucli 
a scrutiny, he and his works sink into irre- 
mediable obscurity ; and too late he finds 



1 In 1750 appnrcd anonymously Die well-known 
little work by Dodsloy, the liookscUer, entitled 
' The Koonomy of Human Lite,' wliicli was lonj; 
attributed to Lord Clii'Sterficlil. Dr. Kijijiis says of 
this work, that it " long rc'cei\od the most extra- 
vagant ajiplause, from the supposition tliat it was 
written by a c-i'lrbriitcd uoblcnian." (ioldsmith 
liimself employed a ruse for profitin!; by this vulgar 
appetite; and in 1764 l)rou(,"ht out " for tlio use of 
tlie younj; nol)ility and ;,'entry," the ' History of 
England, in a Series of Letters from a Nobleman 
to his Son." These letters were attrilmted to L(n'il 
Chesterfield, also t'> Lord Orrery, but l)y the (.Teater 
nuratjer U> I^rd Lyllleton; and conjparativL'ly few 
jH'rsons at the presint day are aware that their real 
ituthor w.is fJoidsmilh. Mr. Prior s;iys that Madame 
Hrissol, wife of one of the leaih-rs of the French 
revolution, translated these letters in 17S6-90, with 
notes by her husbaixl. 



that having fed uikiu turtle is a more ready 
way to fame than having digested Tolly. 

The poor devil against whom fashion has 
set its face vainly alleges that he has been 
bred in every part of Europe wliere know- 
ledge was to be sold; that he has grown 
pale in the study of nature and himself: his 
works may please u|)oii the ])erusal, but his 
pretensions to fame are entirely disregarded: 
he is treated like a tiddler, whose music, 
though liked, is not much praised, because 
he lives by it; while a gentleman performer, 
though the most wretched scraper alive, throws 
the audience into raptures. The tiddler indeed 
may in such a case console himself by think- 
ing tliat, while the other goes oH' with all 
the ])raise, he runs away with all the money : 
but here the parallel dro]'s ; for, while the 
nobleman triumphs in unmerited applause, 
the author by profession steals oft" with — 
nothing. 

The poor, therefore, here, who draw their 
pens auxiliary to the laws of their country, 
must think themselves very happy if they 
(ind, not fame, but forgiveness: and yet they 
are hardly treated; for, as every country 
grows more polite, the press becomes more 
useful ; and writers become more necessary 
as readers are sti])posed to increase. In a 
polished society, that man, though in rags, 
who has the power of enforcing virtue from 
the press, is of more real use than forty 
stupid brachmans, or bronzes, or guebres, 
though the^' preached never so often, never 
so loud, or never so long. That man, though 
in rags, who is capable of deceiving even 
indolence into wisdom, aiul who ])rofesses 
amusement while he aims at reformation, is 
more useful in refined society than twenty 
cardinals, with all their scarlet, and tricked 
out in all the fopperies of scholastic finery.* 



'^The eoneludiiu; part of this letter is a just an 
noblo \ indication of tlie aristocracy of mind. 



120 



CITIZEN OF THK WORIJ). 



LETTER LVIII. 

A VISITATION OINNKR 1)E.-C1U DKl). 
Froi.-i lite Siiiiie. 



As the man in Llack takes every opportunity 
of introducing ine to sucli company as may 
serve to iniluL^e my speculative temper or 
gratify my curiosity, I was liy liis influence 
lately invited to a visitation dinner. To 
understand tliis term, you must know that 
it was formerly tlie custom liere for the prin- 
cipal priests to go ahout the country once a 
j'ear, and examine upon the spot whether 
those of suhordinate orders did their duty 
or were ijualilied for the task; whether their 
temples were kept in pro])er repair, or the 
laity pleased witli their administration. 

Thougli a visitation of tliis nature was 
very useful, yet it was found to be extremely 
troublesome, and for many reasons utterly 
inconvenient ; for, as the principal priests 
were obliged to attend at court, in order to 
solicit preferment, it was impossil)le they 
coidd at the same time attend in tlie country, 
which was quite out of tlie road of pro- 
motion : if we add to this tlie gout, whicii 
has been time immemorial a clerical disorder 
here, together with the bad wine and ill- 
dressed provisions tliat must infallibly be 
served up by the way, it was not strange that 
the custom has been long discontinued. At 
present, therefore, every head of llie church, 
instead of going about to visit his priests, is 
satislied if his priests come in a bod\ once a 
year to visit him ; by this means the duty of 
half a year is despatched in a daj-. When 
assembled, he asks each in his turn how they 
have behaved and are liked ; upon which, 
those who have neglected their duty, or are 
disagreeable to their congregation, no doubt 
accuse themselves, aiul tell him all their 
faults ; for v/hich he reprimands them most 
severely. 

The thoughts of being introduced into a 
company of philosopliers and learned men 
(for such I conceived them) gave me no 
small pleasure. I expected our entertainment 
would resemble those sentimental banquets 
so tiiiely described by Xenoplion and Plato : 



I was hoping some Socrates would be brought 
in from the door in order to harangue upon 
Divine love; but as for eating and drinking, 
I liad prepared myself to be disappointed 
in that paiticular. I was apprised that fasting 
and temperance were tenets strongly reami- 
mended to the professors of Christianity, and 
I had seen the frugality and mortiticatien of 
the priests of the East ; so that I expected an 
entertainment where we should have much 
reasoning and little meat. 

Upon being introduced, I confess I four.d 
no great signs of mortification in tlie faces ox 
persons of tlie company. However, 1 imputed 
their llorid look to temperance, and their cor- 
pulency to a sedentary way of living. I saw 
several preparations indeed for dinner, but 
none for philosophy. The company seemed 
to gaze upon the table with silent expectation; 
but this I easily excused. Men of wisdom, 
thought I, are ever slow of speech ; they de- 
liver nothing unadvisedly. " Silence,'' says 
Confucius, " is a friend that will never be- 
tray." They are now probably inventing 
maxims or hard sayings for their mutual in- 
struction when some one shall think proper to 
begin. 

My curiosity v/as now wrought up to the 
highest pitch ; I impatiently looked round, to 
see if any were going to interrupt the miglity 
pause ; when at last one of the company de- 
clared that there was a sow in his neighbour- 
hood that farrowed fifteen pigs at a litter. 
This I thought a very preposterous beginning; 
but, just as another was going to second the 
remark, dinner was served, wliich interrupted 
the conversation for that time. 

The appearance of dinner, whicli consisted 
of a variety of dishes, seemed to ditlus? new 
cheerfulness upon every face ; so that I now 
expected the philosophical conversation to be- 
gin, as they improved in good humour. The 
principal priest, however, opened his moulli 
witli only observing that the venison had not 
been kept enough, though he had given strict 



A VISITATIOX DINNER. 



121 



orilers for haviii;^ it killed ten days before. " I 
fear." continued he, "it will Ih; found to want 
the true heathy llavour ; yon will lind nothing 
of the orij^inal wildness in it." A priest who 
sat next him, havinj^ smelt it and wiped his 
nose, "Ah, my sjood lord," cries he, " you are 
too modest, it is perfectly line ; everybody 
knows tnat nobody understands keepin;^ veni- 
son with your lordsliip.' " .Ay. and part- 
ridges too," interrupted another; '•! never tind 
them right anywhere else.' His lordsliij) wiis 
going to reply, when a third took oil' the atten- 
tion of the company by reconnnending the 
pig as inimitable. " I fancy, my lord," con- 
tinues he. " it has been smothered in its own 
blood." " If it has been smotliennl in its own 
blood." cried a facetious mend)er, heljjing 
himself, " we'll now smother it in egg-sauce." 
This poignant piece of humour produced a 
long louil laugh, which the facetious brother 
observing, and. now that he was in luck, will- 
ing to second his blow, assured tlie company 
he would tell them a good story about th.it : 
'■ As good a story, " cries he. Ijursting into a 
violent lit of laughter himself, " as ever you 
heard in your lives. There was a farmer in 
my jiarish who used to sup upon wild ducks 
and Hmnmery ; so this farmer" — "Doctor 
Marrowfat," cries his lordship, interrupting 
him. " give me leave to drink your liealih " — 
"so, being fond of wild ducks and llunmiery"' 
— " Doctor, " adds a gentleman who sat next 
liim, " let me advise you to a wing of this 
turkey " — " so, this farmer being fond "' — 
'"Hob and nob. Doctor; which do you choose, 
white or red ?" — "so, being fond of wild ducks 
fud flummery — '• Take care of your l)and, 
sir, it may dip in the gravj'." The iloctor, 
now looking round, found not a single eye 
ilisposed to lii?ten ; wherefore, calling for a 
glass of wine, he gulj)ed down the disap- 
pointment and the tale in a bumper. 

The conversation now began to be little 
more than a rhapsody of exclamations : as 
each had pretty well satisfied his own appe- 
tite, he now found suflicient time to press 
others. " Excellent ' the very thing ! let me 
recommend the pig : do i)ut t:nte the bacon ; 
never eat a belter thing in my lil'e : exquisite! 
delicious!'' 'I'his edifying discourse conti- 
nued through three courses, whicii lasted 
03 many hours, till every one of the company 



were unable to swallow or utter anything 
more. 

It is very natural for men who are abridged 
in one excess to break into some other. The 
clergy here, particularly fliose who are ad- 
vanced in years, think, if lliey are abstemious 
witli regard to women and wine, they may in- 
(bilge their other ap])etites without censure. 
Thus some are found to rise in the morning 
only to a consultation with their cook abjut 
dinner, and, when that has been swallowed, 
make no other use of their faculties (if they 
have any) but to ruminate on the succeeding 
meil. 

A deoauch of wine is even more pardonable 
than this, since one glass insensibly leads on 
to another, and, instead of sating, whets the 
appetite. The progressive steps to it are cheer- 
ful and seducing; the grave are animated, the 
melaiK^lioly relieved, and there is even classic 
authority to countenance the excess. Rut in 
eating, after nature is once satislied, every ad- 
ditional m arsel brings stupidity and distempers 
with it: and, as one of their own poets ex- 
presses it, 

" The soul subsitlcs, ,-\nd wickcilly inclines 
To seem but mortiil, e'on in sound divines." l 

Let me suppose, after such a meal as this I 
have been describing, while all the company 
are sitting in lethargic silence round the fable, 
groaning under a load of soup, pig, pork, and 
bacon ; let me suppose, I say, s:)me hiuigry 
beggar, with looks of want, peeping finough 
one of the windows, and thus addressing the 
assembly : "Prithee, pluck those napkins from 
your chins ; after nature is satislied, all tint 
you eat extraordinary is my property, and I 
claim it as mine. It w:is given you in order 
to relieve me, and not to oppress yourselves. 
How can tliey comfort or instruct others, who 
can scarcely feel their own existence, except 
from the unsavoury returns of an ill-digested 
meal. But though neither you nor the 
cushions you sit upon will hear me, yet the 
world regards the excesses of its teachers with 
a ])rying eye, and notes their conduct with 
dou'ole severity." I know no other answer any 
one of the company could make to such an ex- 
postulation but this : " Friend, you talk of our 

1 Tope. 



122 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



losing a cliaracter, and being disliked by the 
worlil ; well, and supposing all tliis fo be true, 
wliat then ? who cares I'or tlie world ? We "II 



preach for the world, and the world shall pay 
us for preaching, whether we like each other 
or not.'" ' 



LETTER LIX, 

THE CHINESE PHlLOSOPHEU"s SON ESCAPES WITH THE BEAUTIFUL CAPTIVE FROM SI.AVEKV. 

From Hingpo to Lien Chi Altaiigi, by the way of Moscow. 

You will probably be pleased to see my letter 
dated from Terki, a city which lies beyond 
the bounds of tlie Persian empire : here, blessed 
with security, with all that is dear, I double 
my raptures by commiuiicating them to you ; 
the mind sympathising with the freedom of 
the body, my whole soul is dilated in grati- 
tude, love, and praise. 

Yet were my own happiness all that in- 
spired my present joy, my raptures might 
justly merit the imputation of self-interest ; 
but when I think that the beautiful Zelis is 
also free, forgive my triumph when I boast of 
having rescued from captivity the most de- 
serving object upon earth. 

You remember the reluctance she testified 
at being obliged to marry the tyramt she hated. 
Her compliance at last was only feigned, in 
order to gain time to try some future means of 
escape. During the interval between her pro- 
mise and the intended performance of it she 
came undiscovered one evening to the place 
where I generally retired after the fatigues of the 
day : her appearance was like that of an aerial 
genius when it descends fo minister comfort 
to undeserved dishess ; the mild lustre of her 
eye served to banish my timidity ; her accents 
were sweeter than the echo of some distant 
symphony ! " Unhappy sti-anger," said she, 
in the Persian language, " you here perceive 
one more wretched than thyself! All this so- 
lemnitj- of preparation, tliis elegance of dress, 
and the number of my attendants, serve but to 
increase my miseries : if you have courage to 
rescue an unhappy woman from approaching 
ruin and our detested tyrant, you may depend 
upon my future gratitiide."" I bowed to the 
ground, and she left me filled with rap- 
ture and astonishment. Night brouglit me no 
rest, nor could the ensuuig morning calm the 
anxieties of rny mind. I projected a thou- 



sand methods for her delivery ; but each, 
when strictly examined, appeared impractic- 
able : in this uncertainlv the evening again 
arrived, and I placed myself on my former 
station in hopes of a repeated visit, .\fter 
some short expectation the bright pei-fection 
again appeared : I bowed, as before, to the 
ground ; when, raising me up, she observed 
that the time was not to be spent in useless 
ceremony ; she obseixed that the day follow- 
ing was appointed for the celebration of her 
nuptials, and that something was to be done 
that very night for our mutual deliverance. 
I oft'ered with the utmost humilitj' to pui'sue 
whatever scheme she should direct : upon 
which she proposed that instant to scale the 
garden-wall, adding that she had prevailed 
upon a female slave, who was now waiting at 
tl:e appointed place, to assist herwith a ladder. 
Pursuant to this infoiTnation, I led her h'em- 
liling to the place appohited ; but, instead of 
the slave we expected to see, INIostadad him- 
self was there awaiting our arrival : the wretch 
in whom \ve confided, it seems, had betrayed 
our design to her master, and he now saw the 
most convincing proofs of her infonnation. 
He was just going to draw his sabre, when a 
principle of avarice repressed his fury, and he 

> The Church of England lias never been without 
eminent men in her service ; but eighty years ago the 
clergy generally were sunk into an apathetic st.ite 
iuj urious to their public character and detrimental to 
the interests of religion. Southcy, in his ' Life of 
Wesley,' vol. i. p. 326, notices tlieir want of aptitude 
or inclination for their important oftice, and tlie indif- 
ference V hich they manifested for its duties. Things 
were beginning to improve even then: and in the 
diary of tlie Rev. W. Cole, author of the ' Atlienae 
Cantabrigiensis,' there is a notice of the visitation 
dinner of the Archdeacon at Newport Piigiiel for 
l"6(i, at which forty-four clergymen dined, and he 
observes — " what is extraordinary, not one smoked 
tobacco.' 



HISTOKY OF THE BEAUTIFUL CAPTIVE. 



123 



resolvetl, after a severe chastisement, to dispose 
of ine to another master ; in tlie mean time 
he ordered me to be conlined in the strictest 
manner, and the next day to receive a liundred 
blows on tlie soles of my feet. 

^S'hen the morniiiLr came I w;us led out in 
order to receive tlie j)unislmient, which, from 
the severity with w hich it is generally inflicted 
upon slaves, is worse even tlian death. 

A trumpet was to be the si.i;nal for the 
solemni/ation of the rmjitials of Zelis, and for 
the infliction of my ])unishment. Kach cere- 
mony, to me equally dreadful, was just tjoing 
to hci^in. when we were informed that a large 
body of Circassian Tartars hatl invaded the 
town and were laying all in ruin. Every 
person now thought only of saving himself. I 
instantly unloosed the cords with which I was 
bound, ami. seizing a scimitar from one of the 
slaves who had not courage to rraist me, flew 
to the women's apartment, wliere Zelis was 
confined, dressed out for the intended nup- 
tials. 1 hade her follow me without delay, 
aiul. going forward, cut my way through 
eunuclis, who made but a faint resistance. 
The whole city was now a scene of coiiilagra- 



tion and terror; every person was willing to 
save himself, unmindful of others. In tiiig 
confusion, .seizing upon two of the fleetest 
coursers in the stal)le of Mostadad, we fled 
northward towards the kingdom of Circassia. 
As there were several others flying in the same 
manner, we passed without notice, and in 
three days anived at Tcrki, a city that lies 
in a valley within the bosom of the frowning 
mountains of Caucasus. Here, free from every 
apprehension of danger, we enjoy all those 
satisfactions which are consistent with virtue: 
though I find my heart at intervals give way 
to unusual passions, yet such is my admira- 
tion for my fair companion that I lose even 
tenderness in distant respect. Though her 
person demands particular regard even among 
the beauties of Circassia, yet is her mind far 
more lovely. How very different is a woman 
who thus has cultivated her understanding, 
and been refined into delicacy of sentiment, 
from the daughters of the East, whose educa- 
tion is oidy formed to improve the person, and 
make them more tempting objects of prostitu- 
tion ! Adieu. 



LETTER LX. 



THE HISTORV OF THE liEAUTIFUL C.VPTIVE. 



Fro/ti tlie Same. 



When sufficiently refreshed after the fatigues 
of our precipitate flight, my curiosity, which 
had been restrained by the ap})earance of im- 
mediate danger, now began to revive: I longed 
to know by what distressful accidents my fair 
fugitive became a captive, and could not 
avoid testifying a surjjrise how so much 
beauty could be involved in the calamities 
from whence she had been so lately rescued. 

" Talk not of personal charms,"" cried she 
with emotion, "since to them I owe every 
misfortune. Look round on the numberless 
beauties of the country where we are, and see 
how nature has jmured it.s charms u])on every 
face; and yet by this profusion heaven would 
seem to show how little it regards such a 
blessing, since the gift is lavished ujxju a na- 
tion of prostitutes. 



" I perceive you desire to know my story, 
and your curiosity is not so great as my im- 
patience to gratify it. I find a pleasure in 
telling past misfortunes to any; but, wlien my 
deliverer is pleased w itli the relation, my plea- 
sure is pr()m])ted by duty. 

" I was born in a country far to the west, 
where the men are braver, and the women 
more fair than those of Circassia; where the 
valour of the hero is guided by wisdom, and 
where delicacy of sentiment jioints the shafrs 
of female beauty.' 1 was the only daughter 

' The foUowiug noto is appondeil to this letter in 
m.-my of tlie older editions of the •Cili/.en of the 
World:' — "This story bears ii striking similitude to 

the real history of Miss S <1. who :uTonii)aiiieil 

LadyW— e in her retreat near Florence, and which 
the editor hail from her ow ii mouth." The cliaraeters 



121 



CITIZEN OF TIIK WO]{I,l). 



of ail officer in tlif army, the child of his age, 
anil, as he nsed fondly to express it, the oidy 
chain that hound hirn to the world, or made 
his life jileasing. His station procured him an 
acquaintance with men of j^reater rank and 
fortune than liimself, and his regard forme in- 
duced him to hrlng me into every family where 
he was acquainted. Thus I was early taught 
all the elegancies and fashionable foibles of 
sucli as the world calls polite, and, though 
without fortune myself, was tauglit to desj)ise 
tliose who li\ed as if they were poor. 

" My intercourse with tlie great, and my 
all'ectation of grandeur, procured me many 
lovers : but want of fortune deterred them all 
from any other views than those of passing 
the present moment agreeably, or of medi- 
tating my future rviin. In every company I 
found myself addressed in a warmer strain of 
passion than otlier ladies who were superior 
in point of rank and beauty ; and this I im- 
puted to an excess of respect, which in reality 
proceeded from very ditl'erent motives. 

" Among the number of such as paid me 
their addresses was a gentleman, a friend of 
my father, rather in the decline of life, with 
nothing remarkable either in his persoTi or ad- 
dress to recommend liim. His age, wliich was 
about forty — his Ibrtune, v.liicli was moderate 
and barely sufficient to support him — served to 
throw me off my guard, so that I considered 
him as the only sincere admirer I had. 

" Designing lovers in the decline of life are 
ever more dangerous. Skilled in all the weak- 
nesses of the sex, they seize eacli favourable 
opportunity; and, l)y having less passion than 
youthl'ul admirers, have less real respect, and 
therefore less timidity. This insidious wretch 
used a thousand arts to succeed in liis base de- 
signs, all which I saw, but imputed to dif- 
ferent views, because I thought it absurd to be- 
lieve the real motives. 

" As he continued to frequent my fatlier's, 
the friendship between tliem became every day 
greater; and at last, from the intimacy with 
w Inch he was received, I was taught to look 
upon him as a guardian and a friend. Though 
I never loved, yet I esteemed him ; and this 
was enough to make me wish for a union for 



here alluiled to are mentioned in Walpole's Corre- 
spondi'nei", vol. iv. \i. 241. 



which he seemed desirous, but to which he 
feigned several delays; while, in the mean 
time, from a false rejiort of (tur l)eing married, 
every other admirer forsook me. 

'' I was at hist, iiowever, awakened tVom the 
delusion, by an account of his being just mar- 
ried to another young lady with a consider- 
able fortune. This was no great mortification 
to me, as I had always regarded hiiti merely 
from prudential motives; but it had a very 
different efl'ect upon my father, who, rash and 
passionate hy nature, and besides stimulated 
by a nnstaken notion of military honour, up- 
braided his friend in such terms that a chal- 
lenge was soon given and accepted. 

'■ It was about midnight when I was 
awakened by a message from my father, who 
desired to see me that moment. 1 rose with 
some surprise, and, following the messenger, 
attended only by another servant, came to a 
field not far from the house, where I found 
him, theassertor of my honour, my only friend 
and supporter, the tutor and companion of my 
youth, lying on one side covered over with 
blood, and just expiring. No tears streamed 
down my cheeks, nor sigh escaped from my 
breast, at an objectof such terror. I satdown, 
and. supporting his aged head in my lap, gazed 
upon the gliastly visage with an agony more 
poignant even tlian despairing madness. The 
servants were gone for more assistance. In 
this gloomy stillness of the night no sounds 
were heard but his agonising respiration — no 
object was presented but his wounds, which 
still continued to stream. With silent an- 
guish I hung over his dear face, and with my 
hands strove to stop the blood as it ilowed 
from his wounds. He seemed at first insen- 
sible, but at last, turning his dying eyes upon 
me, ' My dear, dear child,' cried he; ' dear, 
though jou have forgotten your own honour 
and stained mine; I will j-et forgive you: by 
abandoning virtue, you have inidone me and 
yourself; yet take my forgiveness with the 
same compassion I wish Heaven may pity 
me.' He expired. All my succeeding hap- 
piness fled with him. Reflecting that I was 
the cause of his death, whom only I loved up- 
on earth — accused of betraying the honour of 
his family with his latest breath — conscious of 
my own innocence, yet without even a possi- 
bility of vindicating it — without fortune or 



HISTORY OF TUK HEAVTIFUL CAPTIVE. 



12.5 



friends to relieve or pity me — abandoned to 
infaniy anil tlic wide censuring world — I callfd 
out njK)n the dead body tliat lay .stretched 
befiirc nic, and in the atijony of my heart ;isked 
• Why lie coidd have left me thus! ^Vhy, 
my dear, my only jia])a, why could you ruin 
me thus and yourself for ever ? O! pity and 
return, since there is none but you to comfort 
me!' 

" I soon fomid that I had real cause for sor- 
row; that I was to expect no compassion from 
my own sex. nor assistance from the other; and 
that reputation was much more useful in our 
commerce witli mankind than really to de- 
serve it. Wherever 1 came I perceived my- 
self received either with contempt or detesta- 
tion; or, whenever I was civilly treated, it was 
from the most base and ungenerous motives. 

•■ Thus driven from the society of the vir- 
tuous, I w;is at last, in order to dispel the 
anxieties of insupportable solitude, obliged to 
take up with tlie company of those whose cha- 
racters were blasted like my own, but who, 
perhaps, deserved their infamy. Among this 
number was a lady of the tirst distinction, 
whose character the public thought proper to 
brand even with greater infamv than mine. A 
similitude of distress soon united us: I knew 
that general reproacli liad made her miserable, 
and 1 had learned to regard misery as an ex- 
cuse for guilt. Though this lady had not 
virtue enough to avoid rei)roacli, yet she had 
too much delicate sensibility not to feel it. 
She therefore proposed our leaving the coun- 
try wlierc we were born, and going to live in 
Italy, where our characters and misfortunes 
would be unknown. With this I eagerly 
complied, and we soon found ourselves in one 
of the most channing retreats in the most beau- 
tiful province of that enchanting country. 

" Had my companion chosen this as a re- 
treat for injured virtue, an harbour where we 
might look with tranquillity on the distant 
angry world, I should have been bajipy; but 
very iliflV-rent was her design : she had pitched 
upon this situation only to enjoy those plea- 
sures in i)rivate which she had not suflicient 
eflrontery to satisfy in a more open manner. 
A nearer aopiaintance soon showed me the 
vicious part of her character; her mind, as 
well as her body, .seemed formed only for 



])Ieasure: she was sentimental oidy as it served 
to protract the immeiliate enjoyment. Formed 
for society alone, she sjioke infinitely Ijetter 
than she wrote, and wrote inlinitely better than 
she lived. A person devoted to pleasure often 
leads the most miserable lite imaginable ; such 
was her case; she considered the natural mo- 
ments of languor as insupportable, passed all 
her hours between rapture and anxiety, ever 
in an extreme of agony or of bliss. She felt a 
l)ain as sincere for want of ajipetite as the 
starving wretch who wants a meal. In those 
intervals she usu;'.lly kept her bed, and rose 
only when in expectation of some new enjoy- 
ment. The luxuriant air of the country, the 
romantic situation of her palace, and the ge- 
nius of a people who.^e only happiness lies in 
sensual refinement, all contributed to banish 
the remembrance of lier native country. 

'• But, though such a life gave her pleasure, 
it had a very dillerent elVect upon me; I grew 
every day more pensive, and my melancholy 
was regarded as an insult upon her good 
humour. I now perceived my.self entirely 
unfit for all society ; discarded from the good, 
and detesting the infamous, I seemed in a state 
ofwarwitli every rank of people; that virtue 
which should have Ijeen my protection in the 
world was here my crime: in short, iletesting 
life, I was determined to become a recluse, to 
leave a world where I found no pleasure that 
could allure me to stay. Thus determined, I 
embarked in order to go by sea to Rome, ^vherc 
I intended to take the veil : but even in so 
short a passage my hard fortune still attended 
me; our ship was taken hyaHaibary corsair, 
tlie whole crew, and I ann):ig the number, bs- 
ing made slaves. It carries too much the air 
of romance to inform you of my distresses or 
obstinacy in this miserable state; it is enough 
to observe that I have been bought by several 
masters, each of whom, perceiving my reluc- 
tance, rather tiian use violence, sold me to an- 
other, till it was my happiness to be at last 
rescued by you."' 

Thus ended her relation, which I have 
abridged; but as soon as we arrive at Mos- 
cow, for which we intend to set out shortly, 
you shall be informed ot'all more particularly. 
In the mean time, the greatest addition to my 
happiness will be to hear of yours. Adieu ! 



126 



CITIZEN OF THE W0RT,O. 



LETTER LXI. 

PKOPEU LESSONS TO A YOUTH ENTERING THE WOULD, WITH FABLES SUITED TO THE 

OCCASION. 

From Lien Chi ^iltangi to Hingpo. 



The news of your freedom lifts tlie load of 
former anxiety from my mind. I can now 
think of my son without regret, applaud his 
resignation under calamities, and his conduct 
in extricating himself from them. 

You are now free, just let loose from the 
bondage of a hard master. This is the crisis of 
your fate ; and, as you now manage fortune, 
succeeding life will be marked with hapjihiess 
or misery. A \e\\- years" perse\ erance in pm- 
dence, which at your age is but anotlier name 
for virtue, will ensure comfort, pleasure, tran- 
quillity, esteem : too eager an enjoyment of 
every good that now otiers will reverse the 
medal, and present you with poverty, anxietj', 
remorse, contempt. 

As it has been observed that none are better 
qualified to give others advice than tliose who 
have taken the least of it themselves, so in tliis 
respect I fhid myself perfectly authorised to 
offer mine, even though I should waive nry 
paternal authority upon this occasion. 

The most usual way among young men 
wlio have no resolution of their own is first to 
ask one iriend's advice, and follow it for some 
time; then to ask advice of another, ami turn 
to that; so of a third, still unsteady, always 
changing. However, be assured that every 
change of this nature is for the worse : people 
may tell you of your being unfit for some pecu- 
liar occupations in life: but heed them not; 
whatever employment you follow with perse- 
verance and assiduity w ill be found fit for you ; 
it will be your support in youtli and comfort in 
age. In learning the useful part of every pro- 
fession, very moderate abilities will sufiice; 
even if the mind be a little balanced with 
stupidity it may in this case be useful. Great 
abilities have always been less serviceable to 
the possessors than moderate ones. Life has 
been compared to a race, but the allusion still 
improves by observing that the most swift are 
ever the least manageable. 

To know one profession only is enough for 
one man to know ; and this (wliatever the pro- 



fessors may tell you to the contrary) is soon 
learned. IJe contented, therefore, with one 
good employment, for, if you understand two 
at a time, people will give you business in 
neither. 

A conjuror and a tailor once happened to 
converse together. "Alas!"' cries the tailor, 
" what an unhappy poor creature am I ; if 
people should ever take it into their heads to 
live without clothes I am undone; I have no 
other trade to have recourse to."" " Indeed, 
friend, I pity you sincerely." replies the con- 
juror ; '• but, thank Heaven, things are not quite 
so bad with me ; for, if one trick should fail, 
I have a hundred tricks more for tliem yet. 
However, if at any time you are reduced to 
beggary, apply to me and I will relieve you."" 
A famine overspread the land; the tailor made 
a shift to live, because his customers could not 
be without clothes ; but the poor conjuror, 
with all his lunidred tricks, could find none 
that had money to throw away : it was in vain 
that he promised to eat fire or to vomit pins ; 
no single creature would relieve him, till he 
was at last obliged to l)eg from the very tailor 
whose calling lie had foinierly despised. 

There are no obstructions more fatal to for- 
tune than pride and resentment. If you must 
resent injuries at all, at least suppress your in- 
dignation until you become rich, and then 
show away. The resentment of a poor man is 
like the efforts of a harmless insect to sting; it 
may get him crushed, but cannot defend him. 
AVho values that anger which is consumed 
only in empty menaces? 

Once upon a time a goose fed its young by 
a pond side ; and a goose in such circum- 
stances is always extremely proud and exces- 
sively punctilious. If any other animal, with- 
out the least design to offend, happened to 
pass that way, the goose was immediately at 
him. '• The pond,'" she said, " was hers, and 
she would maintain a right in it, and support 
her honour while she had a bill to hiss or a 
wing to flutter."' In this manner she drove 



LESSONS TO A YOUTH ENTERING THE WORLD, 



127 



away ducks, pigs, and cbickcns; nay, even the 
insidious cat wiis soen to scamper. A lonns^- 
ing iniistitV, however, liapix-iied to pa.ssl)y, and 
thuuglit it no liarni it' lie should lap a little of 
the water, as he was tliirstv. The guardian 
goose flew at liini like a I'ury, pecketl at hini 
with her l)eak, anil Happed liini witli lier fea- 
thers. The dos,' grew angry, had twenty times 
a good mind to give her a sly snap; hut, sup- 
pressing his indignation, because his master 
was nigh, " A pox take thee," cries he, '' for 
a fool ! Sure those who have neither strength 
nor weapons to tight at least should he civil; 
that (luttering and hissing of thine may one 
day get thine head snapped oil', but it can 
neither injure thy enemies nor ever protect 
thee." So saying, he went forward to the pond, 
quenched his thirst in spite of the goose, and 
followed his master. 

Another obstruction to tlie fortune of youth 
is, tliat, while they are willing to take olVence 
from none, tliey are also equally desirous of 
giving none oll'ence. From hence tliey endea- 
vour to please all, comply with every request, 
attempt to suit themselves to every company, 
have no will of their own, but like wax catch 
every contiguous impression. By thus at- 
tempting to give universal satisfaction, they at 
last lind themselves miserably disappointed: 
to bring the generality of admirers on oiu- side, 
it issutlicient to attempt pleasing a very few. 



A painter of eminence was once resolved to 
finish a ])iece which should please tlie whole 
world. When, tlierefore, he ]ia<l drawn a pic- 
ture in which his utmost skill was exhausted, 
it was exposed in tlie j)ublic niaiket-place, 
with directions at tlie bottom for every s))ecta- 
tor to mark with a l)rush, which lay by, every 
limb and feature which seemed erroneous. 
The spectatoi's came, and in general aj)- 
plauded; but each, willing to show his talent 
at criticism, markeil whatever he thought 
proper. At evening, wlieii the painter came, 
he was mortified to find the whole ])icture one 
universal blot ; not a single stroke that was not 
stigmatised witli marks of disapprobation. 
Not satisfied with this trial, the next day he 
was resolved to ti-y them in a diU'erent man- 
ner, and, exposing his picture as before, desired 
that every spectator woidfl mark tliose beau- 
ties he approved or admired. The people 
complied, and the artist, returning, found his 
picture replete with the marks of beauty; 
every stroke that had been yesterday con- 
demned now received the character of ajipro- 
bation. " Well," cries the painter, '• I now 
find that the best way to please one half of the 
world is not to mind what tlie other half says, 
since what are faults in the eyes of these 
shall be by those regarded as beauties." 
Adieu. 



LETTER LXII. 



HISTORY OF CATH.VKINA AI.EXOWNA, WIFE OF PETEU THE GliEAT. 
From the Same to tlie Same. 



A CHARACTER, 8uch as you have represented 
that of your fair companion, which continues 
virtuous though loaded with infamy, is truly 
great. Many regard virtue because it is at- 
tended with applause ; your favourite only for 
the internal pleiusure it confers. I have often 
wished that ladies like her were proposed as 
models for female imitation, and not such as 
have acquired fame by qualities repugnant to 
the natural softness of the sex. 

Women famed for tiieir valour, their skill 
in politics, or tiieir learning, leave the duties 
of their own sex in order to invade the privi- 
leges of ours. I can no more pardon a fair 



one for endeavouriiig to wield the club of 
Hercules tlian ] <'()uld him for attempting to 
twirl her distafV. 

Tlie modest virgin, the prudent wife, or the 
careful matron, are much more serviceable in 
life than petticoated ])hilosoplieis, blustering 
heroines, or virago queens. She who makes 
her husliand and her children hajipy — who 
reclaims the one from \ ice, and trains up the 
other to virtue — is a niucii greater character 
than ladies described in romance, whose 
whole occupation is to murder mankind with 
shafts from their (juiver or their eyes. 

Women, it has been observed, are not na- 



128 



CITIZEX OF THE WORLD. 



turally fmmed for great cares themselves, but 
to soften ours. Tlieir tenderness is the proper 
reward for the daiij^ers we undergo for their 
preservation ; and tlie ease and cheerfuhiess 
of their conversation our desirable retreat 
from the fatigues of intense application. 
Thev are conlined within the narrow limits of 
domestic assitluity, and when they stray be- 
yond them they move beyond their sphere, 
and consequently without grace. 

Fame, therefore, has been very unjustly 
dispensed among the female sex. Tliose who 
least deserved to be remembered meet our ad- 
miration and applause; while many who have 
been an honour to Immanity are passed over 
in silence. Perhaps no age has produced a 
stronger instance of misplaced fame than the 
present ; the Semiramis and the Thalestris of 
antiquity are talked of, while a modern cha- 
racter, inlinifely greater than eitlier, is unno- 
ticed and unknown. 

Catharina Alexowna, bom near Dorpat, a 
little city in Li\onia. was heir to no other in- 
heritance than the virtues and frugality of 
her parents. Her father being dead, .she 
lived with her aged mother in their cottage 
covered with straw; and both, though very 
poor, were very contented. Here, retired from 
the gaze of the world, by the labour ol' her 
hands she supported her parent, who was now 
incapable of supjurtiiig herself. While Ca- 
tharina spun, the old woman would sit by 
and read some book of devotion ; tlms, when 
the fatigues of the day were over, both would 
sit down contentedly by their fireside, and en- 
joy the frugal meal with vacant festivity. 

Though her face and person were models 
of perfection, yet her whole attention seemed 
bestowed upon lier mind ; her mother taught 
her to read, and an old Lutluran minister in- 
structed her in the maxims and duties of reli- 
gion. Nature had furnished her not only 
with a ready but a solid turn of thought — 
not only with a strong but a right under- 
standing. Such truly female accomplish- 
ments procured her several solicitations of 
marriage from the peasants of the country; 
but their otVers were refused, for she loved 
her mother too tenderly to think of a sepa- 
ration. 

Catharina was fifteen when her motlier 
died ; she now therefore left her cottage, and 



went to live with the Lutheran minister by 
whom she had been instructed from her child- 
hood. In his house she resided in quality of 
governess to his children ; at once recon- 
ciling in her character uneiTing prudence 
willi surprising vivacity. 

The old man, who regarded her as one of 
his own children, had her instructed in 
dancing and nuisic by the masters who at- 
tended the rest of his family ; thus she con- 
tinued to improve till he died, by which acci- 
dent she v/as once more reduced to pristine po- 
verty. The country of Livonia wasatthis time 
wasted by war, and lay in a most miserable 
state of desolation. Those calamities are ever 
most heavy upon tiie poor ; wherefore Catha- 
rina, though possessed of so many accom- 
plishments, experienced all tht; miseries of 
hopeless indigence. Provisions becoming every 
day more scarce, and her private stock being 
entirely exhausted, she resolved at last to tra- 
vel to JIarienljurgh, a city of greater plenty. 

AVith her scanty wardrobe packed up in 
a v.allet, she set out on her journey on foot : 
she was to walk through a region miserable 
by nature, but rendered still more hideous 
by the Swedes and Russians, who, as each 
happened to become masters, plundered it at 
discretion ; but hunger had taught her to de- 
spise tlie dangers and fatigues of the way. 

One evening, upon her jouniey, as she had 
entered a cottage by the way-side to take up 
her lodging lor the niglit, she v.-as insulted by 
tv/o Swedish soldiers, who insisted upon qua- 
lifying her, as they termed it, to follow the 
camp. They might probably have carried 
tlieir insults into violence, had not a subaltern 
ofticer, accidentally passing by, come in to 
her assistance : upon his appearing the sol- 
diers immediately desisted : but her thankful- 
ness was hardly greater than her surprise 
when she instantl)' recollected, in her deli- 
verer, the son of the Lutheran minister, her 
former instructor, benefactor, and friend. 

This was a happy interview for Catharina: 
the little stock of money she had brouglit 
from home was by this time quite exhausted 
— her clotlies were gone, piece by piece, in 
order to satisfy those who had entertained her 
in their houses: her generous countryman, 
therefore, parted witli what lie could spare to 
buv her clothes, furnished her with a horse. 



HISTORY OF f-ATHARIXA ALEXOWXA. 



129 



a7i(l pave her letters of reconinieiulatioii to 
Mr. (thick, a faitliful friencl of his father"!:, 
and siijR'riiiteiidciit of ^[arit'iihiiri!;. 

Our IxMutiful stranger had oidy to appear 
to he well received : she was immediately 
inliiiitted into the superintentlent s family, us 
governess to his two dangliters ; and, though 
yet hut seventeen, showeil hereelf capable of 
instructing her sex, not only in virtue but po- 
liteness. Such was her good sense and 
l)eauty. that her master liimself, in a short 
time. olVered lier his hand, which, to his great 
sur])rise, she thought proper to refuse. Actu- 
ated by a jjrineiple of gratitu(U', she was re- 
solveil to marry her deliverer only, even 
though he had lost an arm, and was other- 
wise disiigured by wounds in the service. 

In order, therefore, to prevent further solici- 
tations from others, as soon as the ollicer came 
to town iijion duty, she oil'ered him her per- 
son, whicli lie accepted witli transport, and 
their nuptials were solemnised as usual. Hut 
all the lines of her fortune were to he striking : 
the very day on which they were maiTicd, the 
Russians laid siege to Slarienhurg. The 
unhappy soldier had now no time to enjoy the 
well-earned ))leasures of matrimony : he was 
called off before consummation to an attack, 
from whicli he was never after seen to return. 

Jii tlie mean time the siege went on with 
fury, aggravated on one side by obstinacy, on 
the other liy revenge. This war between the 
two northern powers at that time was truly 
barbarous : the innocent peasant and the 
harmless virgin often shared the fate of tlie 
soldier in arms. Marienburg was taken liy 
assault, and such was the fury of tlie assail- 
ants, tliat not only the gan-isoii, but almost all 
the inhabitants, men, women, and children, 
were put to the sword: at length, when the 
carnage was pretty well over, Catliariiia was 
found hid in an oven. 

•She had been hitherto jjoor, but still was 
free; she was now to conform to her hard fate, 
and leani what it was to be a slave. In this 
situation, however, she behaved with jiiety 
and humility, and, though misfortune had 
abiteil lier vivacity, yet she was cheerful. 
The fame of her merit and resignation reached 
even Prince Menzikofl', the llussian general : 
be desired to see her, was struck with her 
beauty, bought her from the soldier her mas- 



ter, and placed her under the direction of his 
own sister. Here she was treated with all 
the respect which her merit deserved, while 
her beauty every day improved with In r tj-iind 
fortune. 

She had iifit been long in this situation 
when I'elcr the Ciieat, jiaying the prince a 
visit, Catharina happened to come in with 
some dry fruits, which she serveil round with 
peculiar modesty. The mighty monarch saw, 
and was struck with her beauty. He re- 
turned the next day. called for the beautiful 
slave, asked her several (luestions, and found 
her understanding even more perfect than her 
])erson. 

He had been forced, when young, to marry 
from motives of interest — he was now resolved 
to marry pursuant to his own inclinations. 
He immediately inquired the history of the 
fair Livonian, who was not yet eighteen. He 
traced her through the vale of obscurity, 
tliroutrh all the vicissitudes of her fortune, 
and found her truly great in them all. The 
meanness of her birth was no olistruction to 
his design : their nuptials were solemnised in 
private, the prince assuring his courtiers that 
virtue alone was the properest ladder to a 
throne. 

We now see Catharina, from the low mud- 
walled cottage, em))ress of the greatest king- 
dom upon earth. The poor solitary wanderer 
is now surrounded by thousands, who tiiul 
happiness in her smile. She who formerly 
wanted a meal, is now capable of diU'using 
jilenfy upon whole nations. To her fortune 
she owed a part of this pre-eminence, but to 
her virtues more. 

She ever after retained those great (jualilies 
which lirst placed her on a throne; and while 
the extraordinary prince, her husband, la- 
boured for the reformation of his male sub- 
jects, she studied in her turn the imjirovemeiit 
of her own sex. She altered their dresses, intro- 
duced mixed assemblies, instituted an t)rder 
of lemale kiii:,'-lilhood ; and at length, when 
she had greatly tilled all the stations of em- 
press, friend, wife, and mother, bravely died 
without regret, regretted by all. Adieu.' 

1 Tliis story of Catliarine I. is rendered somewhat 
too romantic. She; dieil May ITtli, 1727, having 
li.xstened lier end by excosd in the use ol' Tokay and 
ardeat epiritu. 



130 



CITTZEX OF THE WORLD. 



LETTER LXIII. 



THE RISE OR THE DECLINE OK LITEHATLRE NOT DEPENDENT ON MAX, liVT RESULTING FROM 

THE VICISSITUDES OF NATURE. 



From Lien Chi Allangi to Fnm Hoam, ^"c. 



In evpry letter I expect accounts of some new 
revolutions in China, some strange occurrence 
in the state, or disaster among my private ac- 
quaintance. I open every jiacket with tre- 
mulous expectation, and ain agreeably disap- 
pointed when I find my friends and my 
country continuing in felicity. I wander, 
Imtthey are at rest: they sutler fev/ changes 
liut what pass in my own restless imagina- 
tion : it is only the rapidity of my own mo- 
tion that gives an imaginary swil"tness to 
objects which are in some measure immov- 
able. 

Yet believe me, my friend, that even 
China itself is imperceptildy degenerating 
from her ancient greatness : her laws are now 
more venal, and her merchants are more de- 
ceitful than formerly ; the very arts and 
sciences have run to decay. Observe the 
carvings on her ancient bridges — figures that 
add grace even to nature. There is not an 
artist now in all the empire that can imitate 
their beauty. Our manufactures in porce- 
lain, too, are inferior to what we once were 
famous for ; and even Europe now begins to 
excel us. There was a time when China was 
the receptacle of strangers — when all were 
welcome who either came to imjjrove the 
state, or admire its greatness : now the em- 
pire is shut up from every foreign improve- 
inent, and the very inliabitants discourage 
each other from jn'osecuting their own internal 
advantages.' 

Whence this degeneracy in a state so little 

1 Mr. Davis says: — "Abundant evidence is af- 
forded by Cliinese records that a much more liVieral 
as well as euterprisinj; disposition once existed in 
respect to foreiarn intercourse than prevails at pre- 
sent. It was only on the conquest of the empire by 
the Manchows that the European trade was limited 
to Canton; and the jealous and watchful Tartar do- 
minion established by this handful of barbarians 
has uuiiuestionably occasioned many additional ob- 
stacles to an increased commerce with the rest of the 
world." It does not appear that the arts have de- 
clined. 



subject to external revolutions"? How hap- 
pens it that China, which is now more power- 
ful than ever, which is less subject to foreign 
invasions, and even assisted in some disco- 
veries by her connexion with Europe — whence 
comes it, I say, that the empire is thus de- 
clining so fast into barbaritj- ? 

This decay is surel}' from nature, and not 
the result of voluntary degenerac)'. In a pe- 
riod of two or three thousand years she seems 
at proper inteiTals to produce great minds, 
with an effort resembling that which intro- 
duces the vicissitudes of seasons. They rise 
II]) at once, continue for an age, enlighten the 
world, fidl like ripened corn, and inankind 
again gradually relapse into pristine barba- 
rity. ' We little ones look arotnid, are amazed 
at the decline, seek after tlie causes of this in- 
visible decay, attribute to want of encou- 
ragement what really proceeds from want of 
power, are astonished to find every art and 
every science on the decline; not considering 
that autumn is over, and latigued nature be- 
gins to repose for some succeeding etVort. 

Some periods have been remarkable for the 
production of men of extraordinaiy stature, 
others for producing some particular animals 
in great abundance; some for excessive plenty, 
and others again seemingly causeless famine. 
Nature, which shows herself so very dilferent 
in her visible productions, must surely dili'er 
also from herself in the production of minds, 
and while she astonishes one age witli the 
strength and stature of a Milo ' or a Maxi- 
min,* may bless another with the wis- 



1 Milo, a famous Grecian athlete. As an instance 
of his strength, it is recorded that he once carried a 
bull to the sacrifice on his shoulders, and killed it 
w ith a blow of his fist. 

- C. J. V. Maximinus, son of a Thracian peasant, 
entered the Roman army, and, having acijuired repu- 
tation as a general, caused himself to be proclaimed 
emperor on the death of Alexander Severus, who 
was slain in a mutiny of his troops which Miiximin 
himself had excited. Historians state that he w as 



RISE OR DECLIXE OF LITERATURE NOT DEPENDENT ON MAN. 



131 



tlom of a Plato, or the goodness of an An- 
ton iiie. 

Let us not, then, attribute to accident the 
falling ofl' of every nation, but to the natural 
revolution of things. Often in the darkest 
ages tliere has appeared some one man of 
surprising al)ilities, wlio, with all liis under- 
standing, failed to bring his barbarous age 
into refinement : all mankind seemed to sleep, 
till nature gave the general call, and then 
the whole world seemed at once roused at 
the voice; science triumphed in every coun- 
try, and the brightness of a single genius 
seemed lost in a galaxy of contiguous glory. 

Thus, the enliglitened periods in every age 
have been universal. At the time when 
China first began to emerge from b.irbarity, 
the western world was equally rising into 
refniement ; wlien we had our Yaou,' they 
had their Sesostris.* In succeeding ages 
Confucius and Pythagoras seem born nearly 
together, and a train of pliilosopliers tlien 
spning up as well in Greece as in China. 
The i)eriod of renewed barbarity began to 
have an universal s])read much about the 
same time, and continued for several cen- 
turies, till in the j'ear of the Christian era 
1 100 the emperor Yong-lo arose to revive 



ciijht feet hiirli, and that his strength was in propor- 
tion to liis stature. 

' Yaou, au emperor, who lived in .% very early 
period of Chinese history, to whom the intercalation 
of the ealendiir is attributed. He is said to have U\ ed 
about 20no H.r. 

* Sesostris, king of Egypt, reigned about 1500 b.c. 



the learning of the east: while, about the 
same time, the Medicean family laboured in 
Italy to raise infant genius from the cradle. 
Thus, we see politeness spreading over every 
part of the world in one age, and barbarity 
succeeding in another : at one jieriod a blaze 
of light (lilfusing itsell"over tlie whole world, 
and at another all mankind wrappeil up in 
the profoundest ignorance. 

.Siicli has been the situation of things in 
times past; and such pn)l)ably it will ever 
be. China, I have observed, has evidently 
begun to degenerate from its former polite- 
ness ; and were the learning of the Europeans 
at present candidly consiilered, the decline 
would perhaps ap])i'ar to have already taken 
])lacc. We should lind among the natives of 
the west, tiie study of morality displaced for 
mathematical disquisitions or metapliysica^ 
subtleties; we should lind learning begin to 
separate from the useful duties and concerns 
of life, while none ventured to aspire after 
tliat character but they who know much 
more than is truly amusing or useful. We 
should find every great attempt sujjijressed by 
])ru(lence, and the raptm-ons sublimity in 
writing cooled by a cautions fear of ofl'ence. 
We shoukl lind i'uw of those daring spirits, 
who bravely ventured to be wrong, and who 
are willing to hazard much for the sake of 
great acquisitions. Providence has indulged 
the world with a period of almost four hun- 
dred years" refinement : does it not now by 
degrees sink us into our former ignorance, 
leaving, us only the love of wisdom, while it 
deprives us of its advantages ? Adieu. 



K 2 



132 



CITIZEN OF THE EVOKED. 




mW 



^, wr w orW, ^'' ^' 





'7 
'7 



[Mundailn and Bonze. j 



LETTER LXIV. ' 



THE GREAT EXCHANGE IIAPPIXESS FOU SHOW. TIIEIK 

SOCIETY. 

From the Same. 



FOLLY IN THIS RESPECT OF USE TC? 



The princes of Europe have found out a 
manner of rewarding tjieir subjects who have 
hehaved well, by presenting them with about 
two yards of blue ribbon, which is worn 
about the shoulder. They who are honoured 
with this mark of distinction are called 
knights, and tlie king himself is always the 
head of the order. This is a very frugal 
metliod of recompensing tlie most important 
services ; and it is very fortunate for kings 
that their subjects are satisfied with such 
trilling rewards. Should a nobleman happen 
to lose his leg in a battle, the king presents 
him witli two yards of ribbon, and he is paid 
for the loss of liis limb. Should an am- 
bassador spend all his paternal fortune in 
supporting the honour of his country abroad, 
the king presents him with two yards of 
ribbon, which is to be considered as an 
equivalent to his estate. In short, while an 
European king lias a yard of blue or green 



ribbon left, he need l)e under no apprehension 
of wanting statesmen, generals, and sokliers. 

I camiot sufficiently admire those king- 
doms in which men with large patrimonial 
estates are willing thus to undergo real 
hardsliips for empty favours. A person al- 
ready possessed of a competent fortune who 
undertakes to enter the careerof ambition, feels 
manj' real inconveniences from his station, 
while it jirocures him no real liajipiness that 
he was not possessed of before. He could 
eat, drink, and sleep, before he became a 
courtier, as well, jierhaps better, than when 
invested with his authority. He could com- 
mand flatterers in a private station as well 
as in his public capacity, and indulge at 
home e\exy favourite inclination uncensured 
and unseen by the people. 

What real good, then, does an addition to 
a fortune already sufficient procure ? Not 
any. Could the great man, by having his 



THE GREAT EXCHANGE HAPPINESS FOR SHOW, 



133 



fortune iiicreaspcl, increase also liis a])petifes, 
tliiMi precpileiice nuLjIit be atteiideil with real 
aimisement. 

\V;is he, by haviiiu: his one thonsaiul made 
two, thns enabled to enjoy two wives, or eat 
two dinners, then, indeed, he micjlit be ex- 
cused for undersoin^ some jjain, in order to 
extend the sphere ol" liis enjoyments. Rut, 
on the contrary, he finds his desire for plea- 
sure (it'ten lessened as he takes ])ainsto be at)le 
to improve it; and his ca])aeity ot" enjoyment 
diminishes as his fortune liappens to increase. 

Instead, therefore, of regarding the great 
with envy, I generally consider them with 
some share of compassion. I look u])on 
them as a set of good-natured misguided 
people, who arc indebted to us, and not to 
themselves, for all the hap])iness tliey enjoy. 
For our pleasure, and not their own, they 
sweat under a cumbrous heap of finery ; for 
cur pleasure the lackeyed train, the slow 
parading pageant, with all the gravity of 
grandeur, moves in review : a single coat, or 
a single footman, answers all the purposes of 
the most indolent refinement as well ; and 
those who have twenty, may be said to keep 
one for tlieir own pleasure and tlie otlier 
nineteen merely for ours. So true is the 
observation of Confucius, that " we take 
greater pains to persuade others that we are 
happy, tlian in endeavouring to think so our- 
selves."' 



I5ut tliim;.:h tliis desire of being seen, of 
being made the sui)ject of discourse, and of 
sujjporting tlie dignities of an exalted station, 
be troubles(mie enougli to tlie amljitious, yet 
it is well for society that there are men thus 
willing to exchange ease and safety for 
danger and a ribbon. We lose notliing ))y 
their vanity, and it would l)e unkind to en- 
deavour to dp])rive a child of its rattle. If a 
duke or a diicliess aie willing to carry a long 
train for our entertainment, so much the 
worse for themselves; if they choose to ex- 
hibit in public, with a hundred lackeys and 
mamelid<es in their equipage, for our enter- 
tainment, still so much the worse for tliem- 
selves : it is the spectators alone who give 
and receive the pleasure; tliey only are the 
sweating figures that swell the pageant. 

A mandarin, who took mucli pride in 
aj)pearing with a number of jewels on every 
part of liis robe, was once accosted by an old 
sly bonze, who, following him through seve- 
ral streets, and bowing often to the ground, 
tlianked liim for his jewels. '• What does 
tlie man mean ? "' cried tlie mandarin. 
•• Friend, I never gave thee any of my jewels.'' 
" No," rej)lied the other ; ''but you have let 
me look at them, and that is all the use you 
can make of them yourself; so there is no 
ditl'erence between us, except that you Iiave 
the trouble of watcliing them, and that is an 
employment I don't nuich desire.'' Adieu. 



I3i 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 




[Cobbler's StaU. About 1700.] 



LETTER LXV 



THE illSTOUY OF A PHILOSOPHIC COBBLER. 



From the Same. 



Though not ven' fond of seeing a pageant 
myself, yet I am generally pleased with being 
in the crowd which sees it: it is amusing to 
observe the eflect which such a sjiectacle has 
upon the variety of faces; the pleasure it 
excites in some, the envy in others, and the 
wishes it raises in all. With this design, I 
lately went to see the enti-y of a foreign 
ambassador, resolved to make one in tlie mob, 
to shout as they shouted, to lis with earnest- 
ness upon the same frivolous objects, and 
participate for awhile the jjleasures and the 
wishes of the vulgar. 

Struggling here for some time in order to 
be first to see the cavalcade as it passed, some 
one of the crowd rxnluckily happened to 
tread upon my shoe, and tore it in such a 
manner that I was utterly unqualified to 
march forward with the main body, and 
obliged to fall back in the rear. Thus ren- 
dered incapable of being a spectator of the 
show myself, I was at least willing to observe 
the spectators, and limped behind like one of 
the invalids which follow the march of an 
army. 



In this plight, as I was considering the 
eagerness that ajjpeared on every face, how 
some bustled to get foremost, and others con- 
tented themselves with taking a transient 
peep when the}' could ; liow some praised the 
four black servants that were stuck behind 
one of the equipages, and some tlie ribbons 
that decorated the horses" necks in another ; 
my attention was called ofl" to an object more 
extraordinary than any that I had yet seen : 
a poor cobbler sat in his stall by the way-side, 
and continued to workwliile the crowd jiassetl 
by without testifying the smallest share of 
curiosity. I own his want of attention ex- 
cited mine; and as I stood in need of his 
assistance, I thought it best to employ a phi- 
losopliic cobbler on this occasion. Perceiving 
my business, therefore, he desired me to enter 
and sit down, took my shoe in his lap, and 
liegan to mend it with his usual inditfeience 
and taciturnity. 

" How, my friend,"' said I to him, " can 
you continue to work while all fliose fine 
things are passing by your door?"" — "Very 
line they are, master,'" returned the cobbler. 



HISTORY OF A PHILOSOPHIC COHBLER. 



135 



" I'lir tliose tliat like them, to be sure; l)ut 
M'li.it are all those line tilings t) me? Vou 
don't l;now wliat it is to l)i' a coIiIiUt, and so 
miicli the l)etter for yoiirsell'. \'(iur l)riM<l is 
balieti : vou may go and see si.^ht.s tlie wliole 
day, and eat a warm supjjer wlien yon come 
home at nij^iit; liut lor me, if I should run 
hunting after all these line folk, what should 
I get hy my journey l)ut an a])])etite, and, 
God help me I I liave too much of that at 
home already witiiout stirring out for it. 
Vour jwople who maj- eat four meals a day 
and a supper at night are hut a had exam])le 
to such a one ;vs I. No, master, as God has 
called me into this world in order to mend 
old shoes, I have no business with fine folk, 
and they no business with me."" I here 
interrujjted him witli a smile. " See this 
last, master,"' continues he, '-and this ham- 
mer ; this last and hammer are the two best 
friends I liave in tliis world: nobody else 
will be my frien<l, because I want a friend. 
The great folks you saw pass by just now 
have five hundred friends, because they have 
no occasion for tliem : now, while I stick to 
my good friends here, I am very contented ; 
hut when I ever so little run after sights and 
fine things, I begin to hate my work, I grow 
sad, and have no heart to mend shoes any 
longer.'' 

This discourse only served to raise my 
curiosity to know more of a man whom 
nature had thus formed into a pliilosojslier. 
I therefore insensibly led liim into a history 
of his adventures. "I have lived,'' said he, 
'■ a wandering sort of a life now (ive-and- 
fiftv years ; iiere to-day and gone to-morrow ; 
for it was my misfortune, when I was young, 
to be fond of changing.'" — " You liave been 
a traveller, then, I presume '?"" interrupted I. 
'• I cannot boa.st much of travelling," conti- 
nued he, '' for I liave never left the parish in 
which I was born l)ut tliree times in my lil'e 
that I can remember; but then there is not a 
street in the whole neiglilioinhood tliat I 
have not lived in at some time or another. 
When I began to settle, and to take to my 
business in one street, some unforeseen mis- 



f)rtu!ie, or a desin; of (rying my luck else- 
wiiere, lias removed me perhaps a whole 
mile away from my firmer customers, while 
some more lucky cobliler would come into 
my jilace, and make a handsome fortune 
amaiig friends of my making : there was one 
who actually died in a stall tliat I Jiail left, 
worth seven pounds seven shillings, all in 
hard gold, which he had quilted into the 
waistband of liis lireeclies."' 

I could not but sniilw at those migrations 
of a man by the fire-side, and continued to 
ask if he had ever been married. '• Ay, 
that I have, master," replied he, •' for sixteen 
long years; and a weary life I had of it, 
Heaven knows. My wife took it into her 
head that the only way to thrive in this 
world was to save money, so, though our 
comings-in was but about fliree shillings a- 
week, all that ever slic could lay lier liands 
upon she used to hide away from me, tliough 
we were obliged to starve the whole week 
after for it. 

" The first three years we used to (juarrel 
ahout this every day. and I always got the 
better; but slie liad a liard spirit, and still 
continued to hide as usual : so that I was at 
last tired of quarrelling and getting the 
better, and she scraped and scraped at plea- 
sure, till I was almost starved to death. Her 
conduct drove me at last in despair to the 
alehouse: here I used to sit with ])eo])le who 
hated home like myself, drank wliile I liad 
money left, and run in score when any body 
would trust me; till at last the landlady, 
coming one day witli a long bill wiien I was 
from home, and putting it into my wil"e"s 
hands, the length of it efl'ectually broke her 
heart. I searched the whole stall after she 
was dead for money, but she had hiiUlen it 
so eirectually, that with all my pains I could 
never find a farthing." 

IJy tliis time my shoe was mendel, and 
satisfying tlie jioor artist for his trouble, and 
rewarding him besides for his information, I 
took my leave, and returned home to lengthen 
out the amusement his conversation atVorded, 
by communicating it to my friend. Adieu. 



13G 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



LETTER LXVI. 



THE DIFFEUICNCE BETWEEN I,0\ E AND GKATlTrDK. MENCHS AND THE HERMIT. 

THE FIDDLE-CASE. 



STORV OF 



From Lien Chi .Utiiinjl to Huiijpr,. 



Generositv, properly appliwl, will supjAy 
every other external advantage in life, but 
the love of those we converse with: it will 
procure esteem, and a conduct resembling 
real affection ; but actual love is the sponta- 
neous production of the mind ; 110 generosity 
can ])urchase, no rewards increase, nor no 
liberality continue it : tlie very person who is 
obliged has it not iii his power to force his 
lingering affections upon the object he should 
love, and voluntarily mix passion with grati- 
tude. 

Imparted fortune, and well-placed libe- 
rality, may procure tlie benefactor good-will, 
may load tlie person obliged with the sense of 
tiie duty he lies under to retaliate ; tliis is 
gratitude : and simple gratitude, untinctured 
with love, is all the return an ingenuous mind 
can bestow for former benefits. 

But gratitude and love are almost o])posite 
afl'ections ; love is often an involuntarv jias- 
sion, placed upon our companions without our 
consent, and frequently conferred without our 
previous esteem. We love some men, we 
know not why ; our tenderness is naturally 
excited in all their concerns : we excuse their 
faults with the same indulgence, and ap- 
prove their virtues with the same ap])lause, 
with which we consider our own. ^Vhile we 
entertain tlie passion it pleases us ; wecherisli 
it with deliglit, and give it up with reluctance; 
and love for love is all the reward we expect 
or desire. 

Gratitude, on the contrary, is never con- 
ferred liut where there have been previous 
endeavours to excite it; we consider it as a 
debt, and our spirits wear a load till we have 
discliarged the obligation. Every acknow- 
ledgment of gratitude is a circumstance of 
humiliation : and some are found to submit 
to frequent mortifications of this kind, pro- 
claiming what obligations they owe, merely 
because they think it in some measure cancels 
the debt. 



Thus love is the most easy and agreeable, 
and gratitude the most humiliating afl'ection 
of the mind : we never reflect on the man we 
love without exulting in our choice, while 
he who has bound us to him by benefits alone, 
rises to our idea as a person to whom we liave 
in some measure forfeited our freedom. Love 
and gratitude are seldom therefore found in 
the same breast without impairing each other ; 
we may tender the one or the other singly to 
those we converse with, but cannot command 
both together. By attempting to increase, we 
diminish them ; tlie mind becomes bankrupt 
under too large obligations; all additional 
benefits lessen eveiy hope of future return, and 
shut up every avenue that leads to tenderness. 

In all our connexions with society, there- 
fore, it is not only generous but prudent, to 
apjiear insensible of the value of those favours 
we bestow, and endeavour to make the obli- 
gation seem as slight as possible. Love must 
be taken by stratagem, and not by open 
force : we should seem ignorant that we 
oblige, and leave the mind at full libeity to 
give or refuse its affections; for constraint 
may indeed leave the receiver still grateful, 
but it will certainly produce disgust. 

If to procure gratitude be our only aim, 
tjiere is no great art in making the acquisi- 
tion : a benefit conferred demands a just ac- 
knowledgment, and we have a right to insist 
upon our due. 

But it were much more jnudeiit to forego 
our right on such an occasion, and exchange it, 
if we can, for love. We receive but little advan- 
tage from repeated protestations of gratitude, 
but they cost liim very much from wliom we 
exact them in return : exacting a grateful ac- 
knowledgment is demanding a debtl)v which 
the creditor is not advantaged, and tlie debtor 
jiays with reluctance. 

As Mencius, the philosopher, was travelling 
in pursuit of wisdom, night overtook him at 
the foot of a gloomy mountain, remote from 



STORY OF THE l-lDl)I,i:-C.\SE. 



137 



the huhitations of men. Here, as lie was stray- 
ing', while rain anilthiiniler conspireil to make 
solitude still more hitleons, he perceived a 
hermit's cell, and aijproachin";, asked lor 
slulter: "Enter," cries the liennit. in a 
severe tone; " men deserve not to l)eol)liged. 
but it would be imitating their ingratitude to 
treat them as they deserve. Come in : ex- 
amples of vice may sometimes strengthen us in 
the ways of virtue." 

After a frugal meal, which consisted of 
roots and tea, Mencius could not repress his 
curiosity to know why the hermit liad re- 
tired from mankind, the actions of whom 
taught the truest lessons of wisdom. " Men- 
tion not the name of man," cries the hermit, 
with indignation ; " here let me live retired 
from a base ungrateful world; here among 
the beasts of the forest 1 siiall find no flat- 
terers : the lion is a generous enemy, and tlie 
dog a faithful friend ; but man, base man, can 
poison the bowl, and smile wliile he presents 
iti " — " ^'ou have been used ill liy mankind V" 
inteirnpted the philosopher shrewdly. '' Yes,"' 
returned the hermit, '' on mankind I have ex- 
hausted my whole fortiuie. and this stall', and 
that cup, and those roots, are all that I have 
in return. " — " Did you l)estow your fortune, 
or did you only lend it?" rctmned Jlencins. 
" I bestowed it, undoubtedly,'' rejilied the 
other, •• for where were the merit of being a 
money-lender?"" — " Did they ever own that they 
received it ?"" still adds the philosopher. "A 
thousand times,'" cries the hermit : '•' they 
every daj- loaded me with professions of gra- 
titude fur oljligations received, and solicita- 
tions for future favours." — '• If, then, ' says 
INIencius, .smiling, "you did not lend your 
fortune in order to have it returned, it is unjust 
to accuse them of ingratitude; they owned 
themselves obliged, you expected no more, 
and they certainly earned each favour l»y 
fre(|U(ntly acknowledging the obligation." 
The hermit was struck with the reply, and 
surveying his guest with emotion, "1 have 
heard of the great Meticius, and you certainly 
are the man : lam now fourscore years old, but 
still a child in wisdoin — take me back to tlie 
8ch()ol of man, and educate me as one of the 
most ignorant and youngest of your disci))les !"' 

Indeefl, my son, it is better to liave friends 
in our pjissage through life than grateful de- 



pendants ; anil as love is a more willing, so it 
is a more lasting tribute than extorted obliga- 
tion. As we are uneasy when greatly obliged, 
gratitude once refused can never after lie re- 
covered : theniinil that is base enough to dis- 
allow the just return, instead of feeling any 
uneasiness upon recollection, triumphs in its 
new acquired freedom, and in some measure is 
pleased with conscious baseness. 

Very dilVerent is the situation of disagree- 
ing friends; tlieir separation produces mutual 
uneasiness; like tliat divided being in I'abu- 
liius creation, their sympathetic souls once 
more desire their former union ; the joys of 
both are imperfect ; their gayest moments 
tinctvn-ed with uneasiness; each seeks for the 
smallest concessions to clear the way to a 
wislied-for explanation; tlie most trilling 
acknowledgment, the slightest accident, serves 
to efl'ect a mutual reconciliation. 

I5ut instead of pursuing the tliouglit, permit 
me to soften the severity of advice, by an 
European story which will fully illustrate my 
meaning. 

A ilddler and his wife, who had rubbed 
tlirough life as most couples usuallj- <lo, 
sometimes good friends, at others not quite so 
well, one day happened to have a dispute, 
which was conducted with licconiing spirit on 
both sides. The wife was sure she was right, 
and her husband was resolved to have his own 
way. "What was to be done in such a case? 
the quarrel grew worse by explanations, and 
at last tlie fury of both rose to such a pitch 
that fiiey made a vow never to sleep together 
in the same bed for the future. This was the 
most rash vow that coulil be imagined, for 
they still were friends at bottom, anil besiiles, 
they had but one bed in the house: however, 
resolved they were to go through with it, and 
at night tlie liddle-case was laid in bed lietweeii 
them, in order to nuike a sejiaration. In this 
manner lliey continued for three weeks; every 
night tlie liddle-case being placed as a barrier 
to divide them. 

Hy this time, however, each heartily re- 
pented of their vow ; their resentment was 
at an end, and their love began to return; 
they wisheil the liddle-case away, but l)otli 
had too much spirit to liegin. One night, 
however, as they were both lying awake with 
the detested fiddle-case between them, the 



138 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



husband happened to sneeze ; to which the 
wile, as is usual in sucii cases, hid God bless 
him.' " Ay, but," returns the hnsband, 
" woman, do you say that tVoni your heart f 



— " Indeed, I do, my jtoor Nicholas,"' cries his 
wife, " I say it with all my heart !" — " If so, 
then," says the husband, " we had as good 
remove the fiddle-case." 



LETTER LXYII. 



THE FOLLY OF ATTEMPTING TO LEARN \VISDOM BV BEING UECLUSE. 

Fr'om ilie Same. 



Books, my son, while they teach us to respect 
the interests of others, often make us unmind- 
ful of our own : while they instruct the 
youthful reader to grasp at social happiness, 
lie grows miserable in detail, and, attentive 
to miiversal harmony, often forgets that he 
himself has a part to sustain in the concert. 
I dislike, therefore, the philosopher who de- 
scribes the inconveniences of life in such pleas- 
ing colours that the jjupil grov.'s enamoured 
of distress, longs to try the charms of poverty, 
meets it without dread, nor fears its incon- 
veniences till he severely feels them. 

A youth who has thus spent his life among 
books, new to the world, and unacquainted 
with man but by philosophic information, 
may be considered as a being whose mind 
is filled witli the vulgar errors of the wise ; 
utterly unqualilied for a journey through 
life, yet confident of his own skill in the 
direction, he sets out with confidence, blun- 
ders on with vanity, and finds himself at last 
undone. 

He first has learned from books, and then 
lays it down as a maxim, that all mankind 
are virtuous or vicious in excess ; and he has 
been long taught to detest vice and love 
virtue : warm therefore in attachments, and 
stedfast in enmity, he treats every creature 
as a friend or foe ; expects from those he 
loves unerring integrity, and consigns his 
enemies to the reproach of wanting every 
virtue. On this princijde he proceeds ; and 

1 A custom as old, and probably older than the 
davs of Xenophon. It still prevails under some form 
orotlior iu nearly every part of the world. 

2 In tliis, as iu several other letters. Goldsmith has 
drawn largely upon his own experience of life. 



here begin his disappointments. Ujion a 
closer inspection of human nature, he per- 
ceives that he should have moderated his 
friendship and softened his severity ; for he 
often finds the excellencies of one part of man- 
kind clouded Avith vice, and the faults of 
the other brightened with virtue ; he finds no 
cliaracter so sanctified that has not its fail- 
ings, none so infamous but has somewhat to 
attract our esteem ; lie beholds impiety in 
lawn, and fidelity in fetters. 

He now, therefore, but too late, perceives 
that his regards should have been more cool, 
and his hatred less violent ; that the truly 
wise seldom court romantic friendships with 
the good, and avoid, if jiossible, the resent- 
ment even of the wicked : every moment 
gives liiin fresh instances that the bonds of 
friendship are broken if drawn too closely, 
and that those whom he has treated with dis- 
respect more than retaliate the injury. At 
length, therefore, he is obliged to confess, 
that he has declared war upon tlie vicious 
half of mankind, vv'ithout being able to fi)rm 
an alliance among the virtuous to espouse 
his quarrel. 

Our book-taught philosojiher, however, is 
now too far advanced to recede ; and though 
poverty be the just consequence of the many 
enemies his conduct has created, yet he is 
resolved to meet it without shrinking. Phi- 
losophers have described poverty in most 
charming ccdours, and even liis vanity is 
touched in thinking that he shall show the 
world in himself one more example of 
patience, fortitude, and resignation. " Come 
then, O poverty ! for \vliat is there in thee 
dreadful to the wise ? Temperance, health. 



FOLLY OF ATTEMPTING TO LEARN "SVISD0:M BY I5KIXG RECLUSE. 139 



ami frugality walk in thy train ; cheerful noss 
ami lilKTty are ever thy coniijaiiions. Shall 
anv be jishamed ot" thee of whiim Ciiiciiniatus 
was not jishameil ? The running brook, the 
herbs of the field, can amply satisfy Tiature ; 
man wants but little, nor that little long. 
Come tlien. O poverty, while kings stand by 
aiid iraze witli admiration at the true philo- 
soplier's resignation." 

The godiless appears ; for poverty ever 
comes at tiie call : but, alas ! he linds her by 
no means the charming figure books and his 
warm imagination had painted. As when 
an eastern l)ride. whom her friends and rela- 
tions had long described as a model of per- 
fection. pays.lier tirst visit, the longing bride- 
groom lil'ts the veil to see a face he had never 
seen before; but instead of a countenance 
blazing with beauty like the sun, he beholds 
deformity shooting icicles to his heart ; such 
appears ])overty to her new entertainer; all 
the I'abric of enthusiasm is at once demolished, 
and a thousanrl miseries rise up on its ruins, 
while contem])t. with pointing linger, is fore- 
most in the hideous procession. 

The poor man now linds tliat he can get 
no kings to look at him while he is eating ; 
he finds that in proportion as he grows poor 



the world turns its back njioii him, and gives 
him leave to act the jihilosoijlicr in all the 
majestj' of solitude. It might be agreeable 
enough to play the philosopher while we 
are conscious that mankind are spectators ; 
but what signifies wearing the mask of sturdy- 
contentment, and mounting the stage of 
restraint, when not one creature will assist 
at the exhibition ? Thus is he forsaken of 
men, while his fortitude wants the satisfaction 
even of self-applause ; for either he does not 
feel his jjresent calamities, and that is natural 
insensibility ; or he disguises liis feelings, 
and that is dissimulation. 

Spleen now begins to take up the man : 
not distinguishing in his resentments, he re- 
crards all mankind with detestation, and. com- 
mencing man-liater, seeks solitude to be at 
lil)erty to rail. 

It has been said, that he who retires to soli- 
tude is either a beast or an angel. The cen- 
sure is too severe and the praise unmerited ; 
the discontented being who retires from 
society is generally some good-natured man 
who has begun life without experience, and 
knew not how to gain it in his intercourse with 
mankind. Adieu. 



LETTER LXVIII. 



QUACKS RIDICULED. SOME I'.VRTICULARLV MENTIONED. 

From Lien Chi Altaiiyi to Fum Hoarn, First President of the Ceremonial Academy at Pekin. 

I FORMERLY acquainted thee, mostgrave Fum, 
with the excellence of the English in the 
art of healing. Tiie Cliinese bo;xst their skill 
in pulses, tiie Siamese their botanical know- 
ledge, but the English advertising physicians 
alone of being the great restorers of health, 
the dispensers of ycmth, and the insurers 
of longevity. I can never enough admire 
the Siigacity of tliis country for the encourage- 
ment given to the ])rofessors of this art : with 
what indulgence does she foster u]) tiiose of 
her own growtii. and kindly cherish tiiose tliat 
come from abroad! Like a skilful gardener, 
she invites them from every foreign climate to 
lierself. Here every great exotic strikes root 
as soon as im])orted. and feels the genial beam 



of favour; while the mighty meti-opolis, like 
one vast nnmificent dungliill, receives them 
indiscriminately to her breast, and supplies 
eacli with more than native nnnrishment. 

In otiier countries the physician pretends 
to cure disorders in the lump : the same doc- 
tor wlio combats the gout in tlie toe, shall pre- 
tend to prescribe for a pain in tlie heail ; and 
he who at one time cures a consumption, 
shall at another give drugs for a dropsy. How 
absurd and ridiculous ! tliis is being a mere 
jack-of-all-tradcs. Is the animal machine 
loss complicateil llian a linuss pin '? Not less 
than ten different iiandsare required to make 
a pin ; and shall tlie body be set right by one 
single operator ? 



140 



CITIZKX Ol' THE -WORLD. 



Tlip English are sens! 1)1 ol'tlie Ibicc ol'tliis 
leasouiii;^ : tlioy have, thcret'oie, one iloctor 
for llie eyes, another ibr the toes ; they have 
their sciatica doctors, and inoculatiiiL,' doc- 
tors : they have one doctor who is modestly 
content with securing them from bug-bites, 
and five hundred who prescribe for the bite 
ol' mad (h)gs. 

The learned are not here retired, with vici- 
ous modesty, from public view; for every 
dead wall is covered with their names, their 
abilities, their amazing cures, and places of 
abode. Few patients can escape falling into 
their hands, unless blasted by lightning, or 
sti-uck dead with some sudden disorder. It 
may sometimes happen that a sti-anger who 
does not understand English, or a countryman 
who cannot read, dies, without ever hearing 
of the vivifying drops, or restorative elect- 
iiary : but, for my jiart, before I Avas a week 
in town, I had learned to bid the whole cata- 
logue of disorders defiance, and was perfectly 
acrpiainted with the names and the medicines 
of every great man or great woman of them 
all. 

But as nothing pleases curiosity more than 
anecdotes of the great, however miiaite or 
trilling, I must present you, inadequate as my 
aliilities are to the subject, with some account 
of those personages who lead in this honour- 
able profession. 1 

The first upon the list of glory is Doctor 
Richard Rock, E.U.N. This great man, 
shiirt of stature, is fat, and waddles as he 
walks. He always wears a white three-tailed 
wig. nicely combed, and frizzed upon each 
cheek ; sometimes he carries a cane, but a 
hat never. It is indeed very remarkable 
that this extraordinary personage should 
never wear a hat ; lait so it is, he never wears 
a hat. Ke is usually drawn at the top of his 
own bills, sitting in his arm-chair, holding a 



' The throe empirics whose character and pvoten- 
sious aic subsequently iioticoil, were iiotmious tor 
tlu-ir disputes, aiidtlieir deliauce of each other in the 
uew.-papers of the day. lu HoL'arth's ' Moniinv'' 
there is, a man with a board exhibitini one of I'r. 
Eodc's placards. Zimmerman has defined a (piac'v 
as " a vise man availini; himself of other men's 
follies;' and these follies still unhappily afford 
nearly as profitable a harvest to the quacks of the 
present day as they did in Goldsmith's time. 



little Ijotlle lietween his finger and thumb, 
and snrrotuuled witli rotten teeth, inppers, 
pills, packets, and gally-pots. No man can 
promise fairer nor better than he ; for, as he 
observes, " Re your disorder never so far gone, 
be under no uneasiness, make yourself quite 
easy ; I can cure you." 

The ne.xt in fame, though by some reckoned 
of equal pretensions, is Doctor Timothy 
Franks, F.O.G.H., living in a jilace called 
the Old Bailey. As Rock is remarkably 
squal), his great rival Franks is remarkably 
tall. He was bom in the year of the christian 
era 1692, and is, while I now write, exactly 
sixty-eight years, three months, and four days 
old. Age, however, has no way impaired his 
usual health and vivacity : I am told he 
generally walks with his breast open. This 
gentleman, who is of a mixed reputation, is 
particularlj' remarkable for a liecoraing assu- 
rance, which carries him gently through life ; 
for, except Doctor Rock, none are more blest 
with the advantanges of iace than Doctor 
Franks. 

And yet the great have their foibles as well 
as the little. I am almost ashamed to men- 
tion it : letthe foibles of the great rest in peace. 
Yet I must imijart the whole to my friend. 
These two men are actually now at variance : 
yes, my dear Funi Hoam, by the head of our 
grandfather they are now at variance like 
mere men, mere common mortals. The cham- 
pion Rock advises the world to beware of bog- 
trotting quacks, while Franks retorts the wit 
and the sarcasm (for they have both a world 
of wit) by fixing on his rival the odious ap- 
pellation of Dumpling Dick. He calls the 
serious Doctor Rock, Dumpling Dick! Head 
of Coid'ucius, what profanation ! Dumpling 
Dick ! What a pity, ye powers, that the 
learned, who were born mutually to assist in 
enliglitening the world, sliould thus ditVer 
among themselves, and make even the profes- 
sion ridiculous ! Sure the world is wide enough, 
at least, for two great personages to figure in : 
men of science should leave controversy to the 
little v.'orld below them; and tlien we might 
see Rock and Franks walking together hand- 
in-liand, smiling onward to immortality. 

Next to these is Doctor Walker, preparator 
of his own medicines. This gentlemen is re- 
markable for an aversion to quacks ; frequently 



QIACKS RIDICULED. 



Ill 



cautioning; the public to be careful into what 
bands tiiev connnit tlu'ir Siilety ; by wbieli be 
would insinuate, tluit if tbey do not enii)b)y 
hin> alone, they must be undone. His])ul)lic 
spirit is equal to iiis success. Not for himself, 
but his country, is thegally-pot jnvpared and 
the drojis sealed u]) with jiroper directions for 
any ])art of the town or country. All this is 
for his country's good: so that \u' is now 
grown old in thepracticeof physic and virtue ; 
and. to use his own elegance of expression, 
" There is not such another medicine as his in 
the world again." 

This, my friend, is a formidalile triumvi- 
rate: and yet. formidable as they are. I am 
resolved to defend the honour of Chinese 
physic against tbeni all. I have ma<le a vow 
to smnmon Doctor Rock to a solemn disputa- 
tion in all the mysteries of tlie jirotession, 
before the face of every philomath, student in 
astrology, and member of the learned societies. 
I adhere to and venerate the doctrines of old 
Wang-shu-lio. In the very teeth of opposition 
I will maintain. ••That the heart is the son of 
the liver, which has the kidneys for its motiier, 
and the stomach for its wife."' I have, there- 
fore, drawn uj) a disputation challenge, which 
is to be sent s])ecdilv, to this elVect : — 

'•I, Lieu Chi Altangi, U. N. U. H., native 
of Honan in China, to Kichard Rock, F.L'.N., 



native of Garbage-alley, in Wapping, defiance. 
Though, Sir. I am perfectly sensible of your 
importance, thougli no stranger to your stu- 
dies in the path of nature, yet tliere may lie 
many things in the art of physic with which 
you are yet unac(piainted. I know full well 
a doctor thou art, great Rock, and so am I. 
Wherefore. I cliallengo and do hereby invite 
you to a trial t)f learning upon hard problems 
and knotty physical points. In this debate 
we will calmly investigate the whole theory 
and practice of medicine, botany, and che- 
mistry; and I invite all the philomaths, witii 
many of the lecturers in medicine, to be pre- 
sent at the dispute : .which, I hope, will be 
carried on with due decorum, with proper 
gravity, and as befits men of erudition and 
science, among each other. Rut l)efore we 
meet face to face, I would thus pul)licly and 
in the face of the whole world desire you to 
answer me one question ; I ask it with the 
same earnestness with which you have often 
solicited the jiublic ; answer me, I say, at 
once, witliout having recourse to your phy- 
sical dictionary, which of those three dis- 
orders incident to the himian bo<ly is the 
most fatal, the syncope, parenthesis, or apo- 
ple.vy ? I beg your rejily may be as public 
as this my demand. I am, as hereafter may 
be, your admirer, or your rival." Adieu. 



LETTER LXIX. 



THE FEAU OF M.\D 

From the 

Indm-Gent nature seems to have exempted i 
this island from many of those epidemic evils I 
which are so fatal in other jiarts of the world. 
A want of rain but for a i'cw days beyond 
the expected season in China, sjireads famine, 
desolation, and terror over the wholecountry : 
the winds that blow from the iirown bosom 
of the western desert are impregnated with 
death in every gale; but in this fortunate 



' Mr. Davis remarks tli.-it in tlic Cliuicsc treatises 
on jilijsics tlifre is ;i 1,'rcMt i>ri-ti-nsion to Iwirmouy, 
" wliitli jjiTliajis mi.'lit In- c;illi'il licautil'iil were it 
only true, nnil b.-Lseil upon sonictliing bcUer llian 
emiity speculation." 



DOGS RIDICILED. 
Set /lie. 

land of Britain, the inhabitant coiuts health 
in every breeze, and the husbandman ever 
sows in joyful expectation. 

But though the nation be exempt from real 
evils, think not, my friend, that it is more 
bapjiy on this account than others. They 
are alllictod, it is true, with neither famine 
nor pestilence, but then there is a disorder 
peculiar to the country, which every season 
makes strange ravages among tliem ; it spreads 
with pestilential rapidity, and infects almost 
every rank of people; what isstill more strange, 
tlie natives liave no name for thisjieculiar ma- 
lady, though well known to Ibreign phy- 
sicians by the appellation of ejiidemic tenor. 



U2 



CITIZEX OF THE WOULD. 



A season ii never known to pass in wliicli 
the people are not visited by tliis cruel cala- 
mity in one shape or another, seemingly dit- 
ferent though ever the same: one year it 
issues from a baker's shop in the shape of a 
sixpeimy loaf; the next, it takes the appear- 
ance of a comet with a fiery tail; a third, it 
threatens like a ilat-bottoiued boat;' and a 
fourth, it carries consternation at the bite of 
a mad dog. The people when once infected 
lose their relish for hajipiiiess, saunter about 
witli looks of despondence, ask after the cala- 
mities of the day, and receive no comfort but 
in heightening each other's distress. It is 
insignificant how remote or near, how weak 
or powerful the object of terror may be, when 
once they resolve to fright and be frighted : 
the merest trifles sow consternation and dis- 
may : each proportions his fears, not to the 
object, but to the dread he discovers in the 
countenance of others ; for when once the 
fermentation is begun, it goes on of itself, 
though the original cause be discontinued 
which first set it in motion. 

A dread of mad dogs is the epidemic terror 
which now ])revails ; and tlie whole nation is 
at present actually groaning under tjie malig- 
nity of its influence. The people sally from 
tlieir houses with that circumspection which 
is prudent in such as ex|3ect a mad dog at 
"every turning. The physician pul)lishes his 
prescription, the beadle prepares his halter, 
and a few of unusual braver}' arm themselves 
with boots and buff gloves, in order to face 
the enemy if he should offer to attack them. 
In short, the whole people stand bravely upon 
their defence, and seem by their present 
spirit to show a resolution of not being tamely 
bit by mad dogs any longer. 

Their manner of knowing whether a dog 
be mad or no, somewhat resembles the 
ancient European custom of trying witches. 

The old woman suspected ■^vas tied hand 
and foot, and thrown into the water. If she 
swain, then she was instantly carried off to be 
burnt for a witch ; if she sunk, then indeed 
she was acquitted of the charge, but drowned 



1 Rumours of an invasion from Fiance were fre- 
quently prevalent during the war between the two 
countries wliich was carried on when this letter was 
written. 



in the e.xperiment.' In the same manner, a 
crowd gather round a dog suspected of mad- 
ness, and tliey begin l)y teazing the devoted 
animal on every side ; if he attempts to 
stand upon the defensive and bite, then is he 
unanimously found guilty, for " a mad dog 
always snaps at ever}' thing ;'" if, on the 
contrary, he strives to escape by running 
away, then he can expect no compassion, 
" for mad dogs always run straight forward 
before tliem." 

It is pleasant enough for a neutral being 
like me, wlio have no share in these ideal 
calamities, to mark the stages of this national 
disease. The terror at first feebly enters 
with a disregarded story of a little dog, that 
liad gone through a neighbouring village, 
that was thought to be mad by several that 
had seen him. The next account comes, 
tliat a mastifi' ran through a certain town, 
and had bit five geese, wliich immediately 
ran mad, foamed at the bill, and died in 
great agonies soon after. Tlien comes an af- 
fecting history of a little boy bit in the leg, and 
gone down to be dipt in the salt water. When 
tlie people have sufficiently shuddered at that, 
they are next congealed with a frightful 
account of a inan who was said latel_v to have 
died from a bite he had received some years 
before. This relation only jirepares the way 
for another still more hideous, as how the 
master of a family, with seven small chil- 
dren, were all bit by a mad lap-dog ; and 
how the poor father first perceived the infec- 
tion, b_v calling for a draught of water, where 
he saw the lap-dog swimming in the cup. 

When epidemic terror is thus once excited, 
every morning comes loaded with some new 
disaster; as in stories of ghosts, each loves to 
hear the account thougli it only serves to make 
him uneasy, so here each listens with eager- 
ness, and adds to the tidings new circura- 



I In 1751, a mob, at Trin;,' in Hertfordshire, ducked 
an old man and woman suspected of witchcraft, and 
otherwise so maltreated them, that the woman died 
on the spot, and the man with ihfficulty recovered. 
Public notice having been given that two witches 
were to be thus trietl by duckinj;, a vast mob as- 
sembled on the occasion. One of the most active 
parties in this business was executed on the spot ; 
and it was thought necessary to have a guard of 
above a hundred troops to escort the cavalcade to 
tlie gallows. 



THE IKAll OF MAD DOGS KIDICII-ED. 



113 



stances of ])eculi;ir horror. A lady, for 
iiistaiice, ill tlie country, of very weak nerves, 
lias been frighteil liy the harkiii;.^ of ii do^ ; 
ami this, alas I too treiineiitly hapjiens. The 
story Siioii is improved and siueads, that a 
mad doj; had fris^iited a lady of distinction. 
These circunistaiicea begin to grow terrible 
before they have reached the neighbouring 
village, anil there the report is, that a lady 
of qualily was bit by a mad mastilV. This 
account every moment gatliers new strength, 
and gri)ws more dismal as it aj)proaches the 
capital ; and l)y the time it has arrived in 
town the lady is described, with wild eyes, 
foaming mouth, running mad upon all-fours, 
barking like a dog. biting her servants, and 
at hist smothered between two beds by the 
advice of iier doctors :' wliile tiie mad mastift" 
is in the mean time ranging the whole 
comiti-y over, slavering at the mouth, and 
seeking whom he may devour. 

3Iy landlady, a good-natured woman, but 
a little credulous, waked me some mornings 
ago before the usual hour, with horror and 
astonishment in her looks; she desired me, if 
I had any regard for mj- safety, to keep 
within ; for a i'vw days ago so dismal an 
accitlent had iiappeiied as to put all the 
world upon their guard. A mad dog down 
in the country, she assured me, had bit a 
farmer, who soon becoming mad, ran into 
his own yard, and bit a fine brindled cow ; the 
cow quickly became as mad as the man, 
began to foam at the mouth, and raising 
herself up, walked about on her hind legs, 
sometimes Ijarking like a dog, and sometimes 
attempting to talk like the farmer. Upon 
ex;uniiiing the grounds of this story, I found 
my landlady had it from one neighbour, who 
had it from another neighbour, who heard it 
from very good authority. 

Wi-re most stories of this nature thoroughly 
examined, it would be found that numbers 
of siicii iid have betui said to sulVer were no 
way injured ; and tiiat of those who have 



' The sliockin;: altt'rnalive mentioued in Ihe text 
in cases of liyilroj)hol>i;i, must (Tobably have tieen 
jimctujc-d at somt! jn-riixl, or it could scan-ely have 
Ix-coiue so iioimhirly believed as it even \ el still is. 



been actually bitten not one in a hundre<l 
w;vs bit by a mad dog. Such accounts in 
general, therefore, only serve to make tlie 
])eople miserable l)y false terrors, and some- 
times fright the jiatient info actual frenzy, 
by creating those very symptoms tliey ])ie- 
teiided to deplore. 

But even allowing three or four to die in a 
season of this terrible death (and four is 
probably too large a concession), yet still it 
is not considered how many are preserved in 
their health and in their ])roperly by this de- 
voted animals services. Tlie midnight robl)er 
is kept at a distance; the insidious thief is 
often detected ; the healthful chase repairs 
many a worn constitution ; and the poor man 
finds in his dog a willing assistant, eager to 
lessen his toil, ' and content with the smallest 
retribution. 

" A dog," says one of the English poets, 
" is au honest creature, and I am a friend to 
dogs." Of all the beasts that graze the lawn 
or hunt the forest, a dog is the only animal 
that, leaving his fellows, attempts to cul- 
tivate the friendshij) of man ; to man he 
looks in all his necessities with a speaking 
eye for assistance ; exerts for him all the little 
service in his power with cheerfulness and 
pleasure ; for him bears famine and fatigue 
with patience and resignation ; no injuries 
can abate his fidelity, no distress induce him 
to forsake his benefactor ; studious to please, 
and fearing to offend, he is still an humble 
stedfast dependant, and in him alone fawning 
is not flattery. How unkind, then, to torture 
this faithful creature, who has left the forest 
to claim the protection of man ! how un- 
grateful a return to the trusty animal for all 
his services ! Adieu, 



' The employment of do5,'S in drix\vinj;a lijrht vc- 
liicli" hail liin;; been common in Holland, and Gold- 
smith iiiobably relened to this country: or piThaj)S 
to Siberia, where <lof;s iire trained to draw sledges 
over the liozen snow in places where subsistence for 
a horse could not be obtained. The practice of era- 
ployiii:; do^'s in small carts is comparatively new in 
Kni;lauil; and by an Act pxssed in IsH'.i, one of the 
cUiuses of which came into operation .Ian. 1st, 1810, 
the use of do^s in this manner is prohibited within 
the m<>lropolit;in police district ; beyond which it is 
scareelv known. 



lU 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



LETTER LXX. 



rORTL NE raOVED NOT TO BE BLIND. THE STORV OF THE AVARICIOLS MlLLE.t. 



From Lien Chi Altaiigi to Iliiigpo. 



The Europeans are themselves blind, who 
describe Fortune without siglit. No iirst-rate 
beauty ever had finer eyes, or saw more 
clearly: they who have no other trade but 
seeking their fortune, need never hope to find 
her ; coquet like, she flies from her close 
pursuers, and at last fixes on tlie j)lodding 
mechanic, who stays at home and minds his 
business. 

I am amazed how men can call her blind, 
when by the company she keeps slie seems 
so very discerning. Wherever you see a 
gaming-table, be very sure Fortune is not 
there ; ^vherever you see a house with the 
doors open, be very svu'e Fortune is not there; 
when you see a man whose pocket-lioles are 
laced with gold, be satisfied Fortune is not 
there ; wherever you see a. beautiful woman 
good-natured and obliging, be convinced 
Fortune is never there. In short, she is ever 
seen accompanying industry, and as often 
trundling a wheel-barrow, as lolling in a 
coach and six. 

If j'ou would make Fortune your friend, 
or, to personise her no longer, if you desire, 
my son, to be rich and have money, be more 
eager to save than to acquire : when peoiile 
say, " Money is to be got here, and money 
is to be got there," take no notice; mind 
your own business ; stay where you are, and 
secure all you can get, without stirring. 
When you hear that your neighbour lias 
picked up a purse of gold in the street, never 
fun out into the same street, looking about 
you in order to pick up such another ; or 
when you are informed that he has made a 
fortune in one branch of business, never 
change your own in order to be his rival. 
Do not desire to be rich all at once, but pa- 
tiently add farthing to farthing. Perhaps 
you despise the ])etty suin ; and yet they 
■who want a farthing, and have no friend 
that will lend them it, think fartliings very 
good things. Wliang, tlie foolish miller, 
when he wanted a farthing in his distress, 
found that no friend would lend, because 



they knew lie wanted. Did you ever read 
the story of Whang in our books of Ciiinese 
learning? he who, despising small sums, and 
grasping at all, lost even what he had. 

^^'haIlg, the miller, was naturally ava- 
ricious ; nobody loved money better than lie, 
or more respected lliose that had it. When 
people would talk of a ricliman in company. 
Whang would say, I know him very well : 
he and I have been long acquainted ; he and 
I are intimate ; he stood for a child of mine : 
but if ever a poor man was mentioned, he 
had not the least knowledge of the man ; he 
might be very well for aught he knew; but 
he was not fond of many acquaintances, and 
loved to choose his company. 

Whang, however, with all eagerness for 
riches, was in reality poor : he had nothing 
but the profits of his mill to support him ; 
but though these were small, they were 
certain : while his mill stood and went, he 
was sure of eating; and his frugality was 
such, that he every day laid some money by, 
which he would at intervals count and con- 
template with much satisfaction. Yet still 
his acquisitions were not equal to his desires ; 
he only found himself above want, whereas 
he desired to be possessed of affluence. 

One day as he was indulging these wishes, 
he was informed that a neiglibour of his had 
found a pan of money under ground, having 
dreamed of it three nights running before. 
These tidings were daggers to tlie heart of 
poor Whang. " Here am I,"" says he, " toil- 
ing and moiling from morning till night for 
a few ])altry farthings, while neighbour 
Hunks only goes quietly to bed, and dreams 
himself into tliousands before morning. O 
tliat I could dream like him ! witli what 
pleasure would I dig round the pan ; how slily 
would I carry it home ; not even my wife 
should see me ; and then, O the pleasure of 
tlirusting one's hand into a heap of gold up 
to the elbow ! "' 

Such reflections only served to make the 
miller unhappy ; he discontinued his former 



STORY OF THE AVARICIOUS MILLER. 



IIJ 



assiduity; lie was quite disgusted with small 
pains, and lii^i custoniers hegau to forsake 
liim. Kvery <lay lie repeated the wish, and 
every nii^ht laid hiniselt" down in order to 
dream. Forttnie, that w;is tor a lon;^ time 
unkind, at last however seemed to smile n])i)n 
his distresses, and indulged him with the 
wished-t"or vision. He dreamed that under 
a certain jiart of the fomidation of his mill 
there w;xs coneealeil a monstrous pan of gold 
and diamonds, hufied deep in the ground, 
and covered with a large Hat stone. He rose 
up, thankeil tiie stars that were at last pleased 
to take pity on his sutVerings, and concealed 
his good luck from every person, as is usual 
in money dreams, in oriler to have the vision 
re])eated the two succeeding nights, by 
wliicli lie should i)e certain of its veracity. 
His wisiies in tliis also were answered ; he still 
dreamed of the same pan of money, in the 
very same jilace. 

Now, tiierefore, it was past a doubt ; so 
getting up early the third morning, he repairs 
alone, with a mattock in his hand, to the 
mill, and began to undermine that part of 



tlie wall to which the vision directed. Tlio 
first omen of success tiiat he met was a I)rokeii 
mug; digging still deejier, he turns up a 
house-tile, (iiiite new and entire. At last, 
after mucli digging, he came to a broad 
Hat stone, but then so large, that it was be- 
yond one man's strength to remove it. 
" Here," cried he in rajjtures to himself, 
''hero it is! under this stone there is room 
for a very large ])an of diamonds indeed. I 
must e'en go home to my wife, tell liei- tlie 
whole alVair, and get her to assist me in turn- 
ing it up.'' Away tiierefore he goes, and 
acquaints his wife with every circumstance of 
their good fortune. Her raptures on this 
occasion easily may be imagined ; she flew 
round his neck, and eml)raced him in au 
agony of joy ; but those transports, however, 
did not delay their eagerness to know the 
exact sum : returning, therefore, speedily to 
the place wliere Whang had been digging, 
there they found — not indeed the expected 
treasure, but the mill, their only s'.ipport, 
undermined and fallen. Adieu. 



146 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



\ 




• ■ , li • ' 







m^-'A 



[Vauxhall Gardens.] 
LETTER LXXI. 

THE SHABBY BEAU, THE MAN IN BLACK, THE CHINESE PHILOSOPHER, &C., AT VAUXHALL. 

From Lien Chi Altangi to Ftayi Houm. 



The people of London are as fond of walking 
as our friends at Pekin of riding :' one of the 



1 Officers of a certain rank would in China be 
considered as degrading themselves if they made 
their appearance pulilicly except in a sedan ; others 
are not allowed chairs, but may ride. The sedan 
is by far the most convenient mode of conveyance 
in Cidna, and Mr. Davis sa\s that, " whether viewed 
in regard to lightness, comfort, or any other quality 
associated with such a mode of carriage, there is 
notliing so convenient elsewhere." The roads are 
for the most part adapted only for horses, sedans, 
and foot-passengers ; and tlie difterent embassies 
which ha\ e visited China did not meet with wheel- 
carriages anywhere, except in the flat country near 
Pekin. Uut of all modes of conveyance, that by 
water, on the canals, is the most general and commo- 
dious. The horse is but little used in China, and 
instead of the noble animal which we find him in 
other parts of Asia, he is of a poor and stunted race. 
Mr. Davis states that "the whole equestrian esta- 
blishment of a mandarin is beggarly in the extreme." 
Asses and mules are employed as beasts of bur- 
then: and in the north of China dromedaries are 
used for the same purpose ; but the cheapness of 
human labour nearly supplants every other kind of 



principal entertainments of the citizens here 
in summer is to repair about nightfall to a 
garden not far from town, where they walk 
about, sliow tlieir best clothes and best faces, 
and listen to a concert provided for the 
occasion.'^ 



power. In this latter respect a change seems to 
have occurred since the visit of Marco Polo to China 
in the fourteenth century. 

2 Vauxhall Gardens offered a favourite place of 
amusement when the number of theatres was more 
limited than at present ; but they have lost much of 
their former celebrity, and the illuminated walks are 
no longer the resort of fashion. About fifty years 
ago, the price of admission, which had previously 
been Is., was raised to 2s. 6d., and in 183-5, it was 
4s. Vauxhall is thus described at the time when 
this letter was written: — 'In the midst of the garden 
is a superb orchestra, containing a fine organ, with a 
baud of music and some of the best voices. In most 
of the boxes are jiictures painted from the designs 
of Ilayman and Hogarthon subjects of humour 
w ell adapted to the place. Tlie trees are scattered 
with a pleasing confusion; there are several noble 
vistas through very tall trees, the spaces between 



VAUXHALL GARDENS. 



117 



I accepted an invitation a tew evenings 
ago froru ray old friend, the man in black, 
to lie one of a ])arty tiiat was to sup there, 
and at the appointed liour waited upon him 
at his lodgings. There 1 found the company 
assemliled and expecting my arrival. Our 
party cousisteil of my friend, in su])erlative 
rtsery : liis stockings rolled ; a bhick velvit 
waistcoat, which was formerly new ; and a 
grey wig, combed down in imitation of hair. 
A jiawnliroker's widow, of whom by-the-bye 
my frientl was a professed admirer, dressed 
out in green damask, with three gold rings 
on every finger. 3Ir. Tibl)s, the second-rate 
beau I have formerly described, together 
with his lady, in Himsy silk, dirty gauze in- 
stead of linen, and a hat as big as an um- 
brella. 

Our first difficulty was in settling how we 
should set out. Mrs. Tibl)s had a natural 
aversion to the water, and tlie widow being 
a little in flesh, as warmly protested against 
walking ; a coach was therefore agreed upon, 
which Ijeing too small to carry five, Mr. 
Tibbs consented to sit in his wife's lap. 

In tliis manner, therefore, we set forward, 
being entertained by the way with the 
bodings of Mr. Tibbs, who assured us he did 
not expect to see a single creature for the 
evening above the degree of a cheesemonger ; 
that this was tlie last night of the gardens, 
and that consequently we should be pestered 
with the nobility and gentry from Thames 
Street and Crooked Lane, witii several other 
prophetic ejaculations, proliably inspired by 
the uneasiness of his situation. 

The ilkmiinations l)egan l)cfore we arrived, 
and I must confess that upon entering the 
gardens, I found every sense over])aid with 
mure than exjjected pleasure; the liglits 



iK-in*; fiUcil up witli neat hedges; and on the inside 
are iilaiitcil llDHcrs aud swrel-smc-lUnj^ slirulis. 
Somu terminate by p.iiutings represi'iiting ruins of 
biiildin;;s, oIIhts a prospect ofa distant country, _and 
some of triumphal arclies" Thi- xrcat attraction of 
tlic Hardens a season or two Ijack was a gi;;antic 
balloon, but the ^.Tatilieationuf witnessinj; its ascent, 
tliou;;h it drew crowds I'ora shoit period, soon ce;iscd 
to have tliis clVect. In 17:J2, when the i,':irilens 
Were first open<<l, there wore a hundred armed 
soldiers to keep the |>eace; but in the palmiest days 
of the l)allooii mania order and decorum were pre- 
strvi'd without anv such aid. 



everywliere glimmering tlirough tiie scarcely 
moving trees ; the full-bodied concert burgl- 
ing on the stillness of niglit ; the natural con- 
cert of the birds, in the more retired ))art of 
the grove, vying witli tliat whicli was formed 
by art; the company gaily-dressed, looking 
satisfaction, and the tallies spreatl witli 
various delicacies, all conspired to fill my 
imagination with the visionary liappiness 
of the Arabian lawgiver, and lifted me into 
an ecstasy of admiration. " Head of Con- 
fucius," cried I to my friend, '"this is tine! 
this unites rural lieauty with courtly mag- 
nificence : if we except the virgins of immor- 
ality that liang on every tree, and may be 
jjlucked at every desire, I do not see how this 
falls short of Mahomet's paradise ! " — "■ As 
for virgins," cries my friend, " it is true, they 
are a fruit that do not much abound in our 
gardens here ; l)ut if ladies as plenty as apples 
in autumn, and as complying as any hoiiri 
of them all, can content you, I fancy we have 
no need to go to heaven for paradise."' 

I was going to second his remarks, when we 
were called to a consultation by Mr. Tibbs 
and the rest of the company, to know in what 
manner we were to lay out the evening to the 
greatest advantage. Mrs. Tibbs was for keep- 
ing the genteel walk of the garden, where, she 
observed, there was always the very best com- 
pany ; the widow, on the contrary, who came 
but once a season, was for securing a good 
standing place to see the water-works, which 
she assured us would begin in less than an hour 
at furthest ; a dispute therefore began, and as 
it was managed between two of very opposite 
characters, it threatened to grow more bitter 
at every reply. Mrs. Tiblis wondered how 
people could pretend to know the polite world 
who had received all tiieir rudiments of 
breeding behind a compter; to which tlie 
other replied, '" that though some people sat 
behintl compters, yet they could sit at the 
head of their own tables too, and carve three 
good dishes of hot meat whenever they thought 
proper, which was more tiian some jieople 
could say for themselves, that hardly knew a 
rabbit and onions from a green goose and 
gooseberries." 

It is hard to say where this might have 
ended, had not the husliand, who probably 
knew the impetuosity of his wife's disposition, 

L 3 



lis 



CITIZEN OF THE WOULD. 



proposed 1o cml the dispute Ity adjt)iiiiiiiig to 
a box, and tiy if tliere was anytliiiig to bo 
had for supper tluit was su})poi table. To this 
we all consented ; bnt here a new distress 
arose: Mr. and Mrs. Tibbs would sit in none 
but a genteel box, a box where they might 
see and be seen ; one, as they expressed it, in 
the very focus of public view : but such a 
box was not easy to be obtained ; for though 
we were perfectly convinced of our own 
gentility, and the gentility of our appearance, 
yet we found it a diflicult matter to persuade 
the keepers of the boxes to be of our opinion ; 
they chose to reserve genteel boxes for what 
they judged more genteel company. 

At last, however, we were fixed, though 
somewhat obscurely, and supplied with tlie 
usual entertainment of the place. The widow 
found the supi)er excellent, but Mrs. Tibbs 
thought everything detestable. '• Come, come, 
my dear,"' cries the husband, by way of con- 
solation, '"to be sure we can"t find such 
dressing here as we have at Lord Crump's or 
Lady Crump's ; but for Vauxhall dressing, it 
is pretty good : it is not their victuals indeed 
I find fault witli, but their wine ; their 
wine," cries he, drinking oil' a glass, *' indeed 
is most abominable."' 

By this last conti'adiction, the widow was 
fairly conquered in point of politeness. She 
perceived now that she had no pretensions in 
the world to taste, her ^'ery senses were vulgar, 
since she had jiraised detestable custard, and 
.smacked at wretched wine; she was therefore 
-contented to yield the victory, and for the 
Jest of the night to listen and improve. It is 
-true she would now and then forget herself, 
and confess she was pleased : but they soon 
brought her back again to miserable refinement. 
She once praised tlie painting of the box in 
ivhich we were sitting ; but was soon con- 
•vinced that such paltry pieces ought rather to 
excite horror than satisfaction ; she ventured 
again to commend one of the singers ; liut 
Mrs. Tibbs soon let her know, in the style of 
a connoisseur, that the singer in question had 
neither ear, voice, nor judgment. 

Mr. Tibbs, now willing to prove that his 
wife's pretensions to music Avere just, en- 
treated her to favour tlie company with a 
song ; but to this she gave a positive denial ; 
" for you know very well, my dear," says 



she, " tliat I am not in voice to-day, and 
when one's voice is not equal to one's judg- 
ment, what signifies singing? besides, as 
there is no accompaniment, it would be but 
spoiling nuisic. " All these excuses, however, 
were overruleil by the rest of the company, 
who, though one would think they already 
had music enough, joined in the entreaty. 
But particularly the widow, now willing to 
convince the company of her breeding, pressed 
so warmly, that slie seemed determined to 
take no refusal. At last then the lady com- 
plied, and after humming for some minutes, 
began with such a voice and such afl'ectation, 
as I could perceive gave but little satisfaction 
to any except her husband. He- sat with 
ra2)ture in his eye, and beat time with his 
hand on the table. 

You must observe, my friend, that it is 
the custom of this country, when a lady or 
gentleman happens to sing, for the company 
to sit as mute and motionless as statues. 
Every feature, every limb, must seem to cor- 
respond in fixed attention, and while the song 
continues they are to remain in a state of uni- 
versal petrifaction. In this mortifying situa- 
tion we had continued for some time, listening 
to the song, and looking with tranquillity, 
when the master of the box came to inform 
us that the water-works were going to begin. 
At this information I could instantl}^ perceive 
the widow bounce from her seat; but, cor- 
recting herself, she sat down again, repressed 
by motives of good breeding. Mrs. Tibbs, 
who had seen the water-works a hundred 
times, resolving not to be interrupted, con- 
tinued her song without any share of mercy, 
nor had the smallest pity on our impatience. 
The widow's face, I own, gave me high en- 
tertainment; in it I could jJainly read the 
struggle she felt between good-breeding and 
curiosity ; she talked of the water-works the 
whole evenirjg before, and seemed to have 
come merely in order to see them ; but then 
she could not bounce out in the very middle 
of a song, for that would be forfeiting all 
pretensions to high-lil'e or high-lived com- 
pany ever after. Mrs. Tiljbs therefore kept 
on singing, and we contiiuied to listen, till at 
last, when tlie song was just concluded, the 
waiter came to inform us that the water-works 
were over. 



MARRIAGE ACT CENSURED. 



119 



" The water- works over!" cried tlie widow, 
" the water-works over already ! that "s impos- 
sible I they can't be over so soon !"' — '• It is 
not my business," re[)lied the fellow, ■■' to 
contradict your ladyship, I '11 run anfain and 
see;"" he went, and soon returned witli a con- 
lirniation ol" the dismal tidini^s. No cere- 
mony could now liind my friend's disaji- 



pointed mistress, she testified her disjtleasure 
in tiie ojienest manner; in sliort, she now 
began tj tind t'ault in turn, and at last in- 
sisted upon s^oiiiL,' home, just at the time tliat 
^Ir. and Mrs. Tii)l)S assiux'il the company, 
that the polite hours were going to '"'gin, aiiil 
that the ladies would instantaneously be en- 
tertained witli the liorns. Adieu. 



LETTER LXXII. 

THE MARRIAGE ACT CKNSURED. 

From the Same. 



Not far from this city lives a jjoor tinker, 
who has educated seven sons, all at this very 
time in arms anil tighting for tlieir country, 
and what reward do you think luis the tinker 
from tlie state for such imj)ortant services? 
None in the world ; his sons, when the war is 
over, may probably be whipt from parish to 
parish as vagabonds, and the old man, when 
past labour, may die ajn-isoner in some house 
of correction.* 

■Such a worthy subject in China would be 
held in universal reverence : his services would 
be rewarded, if not with dignities, at least 
with an exemption from labour; he would 
take the left hand at feasts, and mandarins 
themselves would be proud to show tlieir 
submission. Tlie English laws punish vice ; 
the Ciiinese laws do more, they reward 
virtue ! 

Considering the little encouragement given 
to matrimony here, I am not surjirised at the 
discouragements given to propagation. Would 
you believe it, my dear Fum Hoam, there are 
laws made which even forliid the people's 
marrying each other! Hy the head of Con- 
fucius I jest not! there are such laws in lieing 
here; ami yet tlieir lawgivers have neither 
been instructed among the Hottentots, nor 
imbibed their principles of equity fioni the 
natives of Anamaboo. 

' Cliclsca Ho>iiital for invaliil sililiors was csla- 
blblieil in tliiTci:;!! iif CMnrlcs II. 'I'lic- iiuiiilicr of 
inmates is usualh alioiit Dill) ; ami tluTf an- l>l'^^(l^■s 
lii-arly ao.oijil out-lii-iisioniTs: tin- aiiunal sura VDti-il 
by ).arliami-iit for both classes of la-usioneis usually 
exceeds 1,350,000/. 



There are laws whicli ordain tliat no man 
shall marry a woman against her own consent. 
This, lliough contrary to what we are taught 
in Asia, and though in some measure a clog 
upon matrimony, I have no great objection 
to. There are laws which ordain that no 
woman shall marry against her father and 
mother's consent, unless arrived at an age of 
maturity ; by which is understood those years 
when women with us are generally past child- 
bearing. Tliis must be a clog upon matri- 
mony, as it is more difficult I'or the lover to 
please three than one, and much more difficult 
to please tlie old jieople than young ones. 
The laws ordain that the consenting couple 
shall take a long time to consider before they 
marry ; this is a very great clog, because 
people like to have all rash actions done in a 
hurry. It is ortlained that all marriages 
shall be jiroclaimed before celebration ; tliis 
is a severe clog, as many are ashamed to have 
their marriage made public from motives of 
vicious modesty, and many afraid from views 
of temporal interest. It is ordained that 
there is nothing sacred in the ceremony, but 
that it may be dissolved to all intents and 
])urposes liy the authority of any civil magis- 
trate. And yet ojiposite to this it is ordained, 
that the jniest shall In; jiaid a large sum of 
money for granting his sacred permission.* 

^ Some of tliesc iin]>e<limeiits to marriage arc per- 
haps purposi'ly mi^slatiil tin- Ik'Hit tosuiiport tlw clia • 
racter of a lV)ri'i;;iiiT stmlyiuj' our iiiaiMU'is. I'litH 
the parsing of Lord Cliaiu-cllor llaidw ick"s .\et in 
IJS', tin- law of man iai,'f « as in a Vfiy unsatisfactory 
statu. Tlius, in several important points, a marriagU 



150 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



Tims you see, my friend, that matrimony 
liere is hedged round with so many obstruc- 
tions, that those who are willing to break 
through or surmount them must be contented 
if at last they lind it a bed of thorns. The 
laws are not to blame, for tliey have deterred 
the people from engaging as much as they 
coidd. It is indeed become a very serious 
affair in England, and none but serious 
** people are generally found willing to engage. 
The young, the gay, and the beautiful, who 
have motives of passion only to induce them, 
are seldom found to embark, as those induce- 
Bients are taken away ; and none but the old, 
the ugly, and the mercenary, are seen to unite, 
who, if they have posterity at all, will pro- 
bably be an ill-favoured race like themselves. 

What gave rise to those laws miglit have 
been some such accidents as these. It some- 
times happened, that a miser who had spent 
all his youth in scraping up money to give 
his daughter such a fortune as might get her a 
mandarin husband, found his expectations 
disappointed at last by her running away 
with his footman : this must have been a 
sad shock to the poor disconsolate parent, to 
see his poor daughter in a one-horse chaise, 
when he had designed her for a coach and 
six ; what a stroke from Providence ! to see 
his dear monej' go to enrich a beggar : all 
nature cried out at the profanation ! 

It sometimes happened also, tliat a lady 
who had inherited all the titles and all the 
nervous complaints of nobility, thought fit 
to impair her dignity and mend her consti- 
tution by marrying a farmer ; this must have 
been a sad shock to her inconsolable relations, 
to see so fine a flower snatclied from a flou- 
rishing family, and planted in a dunghill; 
this was an absolute inversion of the first 
}}rincij)les of things. 

was valid when a man accepted a woman for his 
wife in the presence of two witnesses ; Vnit for some 
other purposes, as tlie descent of real property 
to the heirs of the marriage, it was requisite that the 
marriage should have heen jierformed by a priest. 
During the Commi nwealtli a i;reat numlier of mar- 
riages were solcmnisoil by justices of the peace. 
Lord Ilardwick's Act, which was for some time very- 
unpopular, did away with many loose and clandes- 
tine practices in respect to the celebration of mar- 
riages, particularly with the Fleet marriages. In 
Goldsmith's 'Miscellaneous Essays' there is an 
amusing notice of Scotch marriages'. 



In order, therefore, to prevent the great 
from being thus contaminated by vulgar 
alliances, the obstacles to matrimony have 
been so contrived, that the rich only can 
marry amongst the rich, and the poor, who 
would leave celibacy, must lie content to in- 
crease their poverty with a wife. Thus have 
their laws fairly inverted the inducements to 
matrimony. Nature tells us that beauty is 
the proper allurement of those who are rich, 
and money of those who are poor; but things 
here are so contrived that the rich are invited 
to many by that fortune which they do not 
want, and the poor have no inducement but 
that beauty wliichthey do not feel. 

An equal diffusion of riches through any 
country ever constitutes its hajipiness. Great 
wealth in the possession of one stagnates, and 
extreme poverty with another keeps him in 
unambitious indigence ; but the moderately 
rich are generally active : not too far removed 
from poverty to fear its calamities, nor too 
near extreme wealtli to slacken the nerve of 
labour, they remain still between both in a 
state of continual fluctuation. How impo- 
litic, therefore, are those laws which promote 
the accumulation of wealth among the rich, 
more impolitic still in attempting to increase 
tlie depression of poverty! 

Bacon, the English philosopher, compares 
money to manure ; if gathered in heaps, 
says he, it does no good ; on the contrary, it 
becomes otrensive. But being spread, though 
never so thinly, over the surface of the earth, 
it enriches the whole countiy. Thus the 
wealth a nation possesses must expatiate, 
or it is of no Ijenefit to the public ; it becomes 
rather a grievance, where matrimonial laws 
thus confine it to a few. 

But tliis restraint upon matrimonial com- 
munity, even considered in a physical light, 
is injurious. As those who rear up animals 
take all possible pains to cross the strain in 
order to improve the breed ; so in tliose coun- 
tries where marriage is most free, the inha- 
bitants are found every age to improve in 
stature and in beauty ; en the contrary, wdiere 
it is confined to a cast, a tribe, or horde, as 
among the Gaurs, the Jews, or the Tartars, 
each division soon assumes a family likeness, 
and every tribe degenerates into peculiar de- 
foiTnity. Hence it may be easily inferred, that 



LIFE ENDEARED BY AGE. 



151 



if the inmulariiis here are resolved only to 
luiirrv amoiiij cacli other, tlicv will soon pro- 
duce a i)osterity with mandarin liici's ; and 
we shall see tlie heir of sjnie honoural>le fa- 
milv scarcely equal to the abortion of a coun- 
try farmer. 

These are a few of the obstacles to mavriap^e 
here, and it is certain they have in some mea- 
sure answered the end. for celil)acy is both 
frequent and fiishionable. Old l)aciielors 
appear abroad without a mask, and old maids, 
my dear Fum Hoam, have been absolutely 
known to ogle. To confess, in friendship ; 
if I were an Eni^lishman, I fancy I sliould 
be an old bachelor myself; I should never 
find courasre to run throuijh all the adven- 
tures prescribed by the law. I could sulimit 
to court my mistress herself upon rciisonable 
terms; l)ut to court lier father, her mother, 
and a long tribe of cousins, aunt^s, and re- 
lations, and then stand the butt of a whole 
country church; I would as soon turn tail 
and make love to her grandmother. 



I can conceive no other reason for thus 
loading Tuatrimoiiy witli so many ])roliibitions, 
unless it be that the country was tliouj,dit al- 
reaily too i)opulou3, and this was found to 
be the most ellectual means of thinning it. 
If tliis was the motive, I cannot l)ut congra- 
tulate the wise projectors on tlie success of 
their scheme. Hail, O ye dim-sighted po- 
liticians, ye weeders of men! 'Tis yours to 
clip tlie wing of industry, and convert Hymen 
to a broker. 'Tis yours to behold small ob- 
jects with a microscopic eye, but to be blind 
to those which require an extent of vision. 
Tis yours, O ye discemers of mankind, to 
lay the line between society, and weaken 
that force l)y dividing, wliich sliould bind 
with united vigour. Tis yours to introduce 
national real distress, in order to avoid the 
imaginary distresses of a i'ew. Your actions 
can be justified by a hundred reasons like 
truth, they can be opposed by but a few rea- 
sons, and those reasons are true. Farewell. 



LETTER LXXIII. 



MFE ENDEARED BY .\GE. 



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



Age that lessens the enjoyment of life in- 
creases our desire of living. Tliose dangers 
which in the vigour of youth we had learn- 
ed to despise, assume new terrors as we 
grow old. Our caution increa-sing as our 
years increase, iear becomes at last the ])ie- 
vailing passion of the mind: and the small 
remainder of lile is taken up in useless efforts 
to kec]) olf our end, or jirovide for a conti- 
nued existence. 

StriUige contradiction in our nature, and to 
which even the wise are lialde ! If I should 
judge of that part of life which lies before 
me by that which I have already seen, tlie 
prospect is hideous. Exjierience tells me 
that my pa.st enjoyments iiave brouglit 
no real feli<:ify; and sensation assures me 
that those 1 have felt are stronger than those 
which are yet to come. Yet experience and 
Bensation in vain jiersuade; hojie, more power- 
ful than either, dresses out the distant prospect 



in fancied beauty, some ha])piiie<;s in long jier- 
spective still beckons me to pursue, and, like 
a losing gamester, every new disappointment 
increases my ardour to continue the gaine. 

Whence, my friend, this increased love of 
life, wliich grows upon us witli our years; 
v/hence comes it, that we thus make greater 
elVoit.s to ])reserve our existence, at a period 
when it becomes scarcely worth the keeping? 
Is it that Nature, attentive to the preservation 
of mankind, increases our wishes to live while 
she lessens our enjoyments; and as she robs 
the senses of every pleasure, equips imagi- 
nation in the sjioil '? Life would be insup- 
))ortal)le to an olil man who. loaded with in- 
iirmities, feared death no more tlian wlien in 
the vigour of manhood : the numljerless ca- 
lamities of decaying nature, and the con- 
sciousness of surviving every jileasure, would 
at once induce him with his own hand to 
tenninate the scene of misery ; but happily 



152 



CITIZEN OF THE WOKLD. 



^le coiitom])t of death forsakes liim at a time 
V, lieu it could be ouly jirejudicial : aud life 
acquires au imagiuary value, iu proportion 
as its real value is no more. 

Our attachment to every ohject around us 
increases, in general, from the length of our 
acquaintance with it. '• I would not choose," 
says a French philoso])her, " to see an old post 
pulled up witli which I had been long ac- 
quainted." A mind long habituated to a cer- 
tain set of objects, insensibly becomes fond of 
seeing them ; visits them from habit, and 
parts from them with reluctance: hence pro- 
ceeds the avarice of the okl in every kind of 
possession. They love the world and all that 
it produces; they love life and all its advan- 
tages ; not because it gives them pleasure, but 
because they have known it long. 

Chinvang the Chaste, ascending the throne 
of China, commanded that all who were lui- 
justly detained in prison, during the preceding 
reigns, should be set free. Among the niun- 
ber who came to thank their deliverer on tliis 
occasion, there appeared a majestic old man, 
who, falling at the emperor's feet, addressed 
him as follows: "Great father of Cliina, 
behold a wretch, now eighty-tive years old, 
who was shut up in a dungeon at the age of 
twenty-two. 1 was imprisoned, though a 
stranger to crime, or without being even con- 
fronted b)' my accusers. I have now lived 
in solitude and in darkness for more than 
tifty years, and am grown familiar witli dis- 
tress. As yet dazzled with the splendour of 
that sun to which you have restored me, I 
have been wandering the streets to find some 
friend that would assist, or relieve, or remem- 
ber me ; but my friends, my family, and re- 
lations are all dead, and I am forgotten. 
Permit me then, O Chinvang, to wear out 
the wretched remains of life in my former 
prison ; the walls of my dungeon are to me 
more pleasing than the most splendid palace : 
I have not long to live, and shall be unhappy 
except I spend the rest of my days where my 
j-outh was passed, in that prison from which 
you Avere pleased to release me." 



The old man's passion for confinement is 
similar to tliat we all have for life. We are 
habituated to the prison, we luck round w ith 
discontent, are displeased with the al)ode, and 
yet the length of our captivity only increases 
our fondness for the cell. The trees we have 
planted, the houses we have built, or the pos- 
terity we have begotten, all serve to bind us 
closer to earth, and embitter our parting. Life 
sues the young like a new acquaintance; the 
companion, as yet unexhausted, is at once 
instructive and amusing, its company pleases, 
yet for all this it is but little regarded. To 
us who are declined in years, life appears like 
an old friend ; its jests have been anticipated 
in former conversation ; it has no new story 
to make us smile, no new improvement with 
which to surprise, yet still we love it ; destitute 
of every enjoyment, still we love it ; husband 
the w-asting treasure with increased frugality, 
and feel all the poignancy of anguish in the 
fatal separation. 

Sir Philip IMordaunt was young, beautiful, 
sincere, brave — an Englishman. He had a 
complete fortune of his own, and tlie love of 
the king his master, which was equivalent to 
riches. Life opened all her treasure before 
him, and promised a long succession of future 
happiness. He came, tasted of the entertain- 
ment, but was disgustedeveninthebegimiing. 
He professed an aversion to living, was tired 
of walking round the same circle: had tried 
every enjoyment, and found them all grow 
weaker at every repetition. '■ If life be in 
youth so displeasing," cried he to himself, 
" what will it appear when age comes on ? if 
it be at present indif^'erent, sure it will then be 
execrable." Tliis thought embittered every 
rellection ; till at last, w ith all the serenity of 
perverted reason, he ended the debate with 
a pistol! Had tliis self-deluded man l)een ap- 
jirised that existence grows more desirable to 
us the longer we exist, he would then have 
faced old age without shrinking, he would 
have boldly dared to live, and served that 
society by his future assiduity, which he 
basely injured by his desertion. Adieu. 



DES( inniox OK a little gueat ^lvx. 



153 



LKTTKR LXXIV 



DESCKIPTIOX Ol- A I.ITTLi; UKEAT MAN. 



Fiom Lien Chi Jltuiigi to Ftim Hoam,ftrst jiiesident <f the Cen-mo/iifil .-Imdennj at Pchiii, in 

Vhina, 



In reading tlie newsjiapers here, I have 
reckoned up not less than twenty-live great 
men, seventeen very great men, and nine very 
extraordinary inen, in less tlian the compass 
oflialf a year. These, say the gazettes, are 
the men tliat ])osterity are to gaze at with ad- 
miration : these the names that lame will he 
employed in holding up for the astonishment 
ol" succeeding ages. Let me see, Ibrty-six 
great men in hall" a year amount just to 
ninety-two in a year. Iwonderhow posterity 
will lie able to remember them all, or whether 
the people infuture times will have any other 
business to mind, liuttluit of getting the cata- 
logue by heart. 

Does the mayor of a corporation make a. 
speech? he is instantly set down for a great 
man. Does apedantdigesthis common-place 
book into a folio ? he quickly becomes great. 
Does a poet string up trite sentiments in 
rhyme? he also becomes the great man of the 
hour. How diminutive soever the object of 
admiration, each is fullowed by a crov. d of 
still more diminutive admirers. The shout 
begins in his train, onward he marches toward 
inunortalify, looks back at the pursuing 
crowd with self-satisfaction ; catching all the 
oddities, the whimsies, the absurilities, and 
the littleness of conscious greatness, by the 
way. 

I was yesterday invit(.'d by a gentleman to 
dinner, who ])romiseil that our entertainment 
should coiLsist of a haunch of venison, a turtle, 
and a great man. I came according to aji- 
pointment. The venison was line, the turtle 
good, but the great man insupportable. The 
moment I ventured to speak, I was at once 
contrailicted with a sua]). I attem])led by a 
second and tiiird assault, to retrieve my lost 
re|)utation, but was still beat back with 
confusion. 1 was ri'solved to attack him 
once more from my entrenchment, and turned 
the conversation upon the government of 
China : but even here he asserted, siiapi)ed, 



and contradicted as before. Heavens, tluiuglit 
I, this man pretends to know China even 
better than myself! I looked round to sec 
who was on my side, but every eye was lixecl 
with admiration on the great man : I there- 
fore at last thought proper to sit silent, and 
act the pretty gentleman during the ensuing 
coiuersation. 

When a man has once secured a circle of 
admirers, he may be as ridiculous here as he 
thinks proper ; and it all passes for elevation 
of sentiment, or learned absence. If he 
transgresses the common forms of breeiling, 
mistakes even a tea-pot for a tobacco-box, it 
is said that his thougiits are iixed on more 
important otijccfs : to speak and act like the 
rest of mankind is io be no greater tliau they. 
There is something of oddity in the very idea 
of greatness; for we are seldom astonished at 
a thing very much resembling ourselves. 

When the Tartars make a lama, their lirst: 
care is to place him in a dark corner of the 
temple; here he is to sit half concealed from 
view, to regulate the motion of his hands, 
lips, and eyes ; but above all, he is enjoined 
gravity and silence. This, however, is but 
the prelude to his apotheosis ; a set of emis- 
saries are despatclied among the people to cry 
up his piety, gravity, anil love of raw Ilesh ; 
the jieople take them at their word, a])]iroach 
the lama, now become an idol, with the most 
humble jirostration : he receives their ad- 
dresses without motion, conmiences a god, 
and is ever after fed by liis priests with the 
spoon of immortality. The same receipt in 
this country serves to make a great man. 
The idol only keejis close, sends out Ins little 
emissaries to be hearty in his jmiise ; and 
straight, whether statesman or author, he is 
set down in the list of fame, continuing to 
be praised while it is fashiiinalile to praise, 
or while he prudently keeps his minuteness 
concealed from the public. 

I have visited manv countries, ami have 



131 



CITIZEN OF THE "WORLD. 



been in cities without number, yet never did 
I enter a town which couhl not produce ten 
or twelve of those little great men. all fancy- 
ing themselves known to the rest of tlie world, 
and complimenting each other upon their 
extensive reputation. It is amusing enough 
when two of those domestic prodigies of 
learning mount the stage of ceremony, and 
give and take praise from each other. I have 
been present when a German doctor, for 
having pronovuiced a panegyric upon a cer- 
tain monk, was thought the most ingenious 
man in the world, till the monk soon after 
divided his rejnitation by returning the com- 
pliment; by which means they both marched 
oil" with universal applause. 

The same degree of undeserved adulation 
that attends our great man while living, often 
also follows him to the tomb. It frequently 
happens that one of his little admirers sits 
down big with the important subject, and is 
delivered of tlie liistory of his life and writings. 
This may properly be called the revolutions 
of a life between the tire-side and the easy- 
chair. In this we learn the year in which 
he was bom, at what an early age he gave 
symptoms of uncommon genius and appli- 
cation, together with some of his smart say- 
ings, collected by his aunt and mother, while 



yet but a boy. The next book introduces 
him to the university, where we are informed 
of his amazing progress in learning, his ex- 
cellent skill in darning stockings, and his 
new invention for papering l)ooks to save the 
covers. He next makes his app(!arance in the 
republic of letters, and publislies his folio. 
Now the colossus is reared, his works are 
eagerly bought up by all the purchasers of 
scarce books. The learned societies invite 
him to become a member ; he disputes against 
some foreigner with a long Latin name, con- 
quers in the controversy, is complimented by 
several authors of gravity and importance, is 
excessively fond of egg-sauce with his pig, 
becomes president of a literary club, and 
dies in the meridian of his glory. Hajypy 
they, who thus have some little faithful at- 
tendant, who never forsakes them, but pre- 
pares to wrangle and to praise against every 
opposer ; at once ready to increase their pride 
while living, and their character when dead. 
For you and I, my friend, who have no 
humble admirer thus to attend us, we, who 
neitlier are, nor never will be, great men, and 
who do not much care whether we are great 
men or no, at least let us strive to be lionest 
men, and to have common sense. Adieu. 



LETTER LXXV 



THE NECESSITY OF AMUSING EACH OTHER WITH NEW BOOKS INSISTED ON. 1 

From the Same. 



There are numbers in this city who live by 
writing new books ; and yet there are thou- 
sands of voliuues in every large library unread 



1 This letter ajipears to treat the question concem- 
ins the multiplication of liooks with more discrimi- 
nation and justness tliau tlie papers No. t<o ami 9-1 
in tlie ' Idler ' on this sulyect. Goldsmitli shows 
that as each era lias its peculiar chnvacter, and tliat as 
in each men strugL;le for olijects whicli dilferin some 
dej,Tee from those which occupied attention in 
any previous era, so the jiassions and feelings to 
w liicli they give buth should he reflected in works of 
literature ; some of which happily rise above tliis 
temiiorary object, and describe men as they exist 
in all ages. 



and forgotten. This, upon my arrival, was 
one of those contradictions which I was 
unable to account for. Is it possible, said I, 
that there shoidd be any demand for new 
books, before those already published are 
read ? Can there be so many employed in 
producing a commodity with which the market 
is overstocked ; and with goods also better 
than any of modem manufacture ? 

A\'hat at tirst view a]ipeared an inconsist- 
ence, is a proof at once of this people's wisdom 
and retinement. Even allowing the works of 
their ancestors better written than theirs, yet 
those of the moderns acquire a real value, by 



NECESSITY OF AMUSING E VCII OTHER WITH NEW ROOKS, 



155 



being marked with the impression of the 
times. Anticiuity lias been in the possession 
of others : the ])resent is our own : let us 
tirst. therefore, li';uii to know what b('h)ngs 
to ourselves, anil then, if we have leisure, 
cast our reflections back to the reign of .Slio- 
nou. who governed twenty tliousand years 
before the creation of the moon. 

The volumes of antiquity, like medals. 
mav very well serve to amuse tlie curious ; 
but the works of tlic moderns, like the current 
coin of a kingdom, are much better for im- 
mediate use ; the former are often prized 
above their intrinsic value, and kept with 
care, the latter seldom pass for more than 
they are wortli, antl are often subject to the 
merciless hands of sweating critics, and clip- 
ping compilers : the works of antiquity were 
ever praised, those of tlie moderns read ; the 
treasures of our ancestors liave our esteem, and 
we boast tlie ])assion ; those of contemporarj' 
genius engage our heart, although we blush 
to own it. The visits we pay the former 
resemble those we pay the great ; tlie cere- 
mony is troublesome, and yet such as we 
would not choose to forego ; our acquaint- 
ance with modern books is like sitting with a 
friend ; our pride is not flattered in the inter- 
view, but it gives more internal satisfaction. 

In proportion as society refines, new books 
must ever become more necessary. Savage 
rusticity is reclaimed l)y oral admonition 
alone: but the elegant excesses of relinenu'iit 
are best corrected by tlie still voice of a stu- 
dious inquiry. In a jiolite age almost every 
jierson liecomes a reader, and receives more 
instruction from the press than the pnljiit. 
llie preaching Bonze may instruct the illi- 
terate peasant, but nothing less than the insi- 
nuating address of a fine writer can win its 
way to a lieart already relaxed in all the 
efleminacy of refinement. Hooks are neces- 
sary to correct the vices of the ]iolite, but 
those vices are ever changing, and the anti- 
dote should be changed accordingly — should 
still be new. 

Instead, therefore, of thinking the number 
of new jiublications here too great, I could 
wish it still greater, as they are the most use- 
ful instruments of reformation. Kvery coun- 
try must be instructed either by writers or 
preachers ; but as the number of readers 



increases, the numlier ol' hearers is propor- 
tionably diminished, the writer becomes more 
useful, and the preaching Bonze less neces- 
sary. 

Instead, therefore, of complaining that 
writers are overpaid, when their works pro- 
cure them a bare subsistence, I should 
imagine it the duty of a state not only to 
encourage their numbers liut 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 ])olite 
age, of all times, is that in which scarcely any 
share of merit can acquire it. What numbers 
of fine writers in the latter eni])ire of Rome, 
wlien refinement was carried to the highest 
pitch, have missed that fame and immortality 
which they had fondly arrogated to them- 
selves! How many Greek authors, who 
wrote at that period when Constantinojile was 
file refined mistress of the emjiire, now rest, 
either not printed, or not read, in the libraries 
of Kuropel 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 desti-oyed their fame. It is but 
natural, therefore, for the writer, when con-^ 
.s^cious that his works will not jirocure him 
fame hereafter, to endeavour to make them 
turn out to his temporal interest here. 

Whatever he 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. Tlie 
connfries, where sacerdotal instruirtion alone 
is permitted, remain in ignorance, superstition, 
and liopeless slavery. In Knglan<l, where 
there are as many new books published as in 
all the rest of Europe together," a spirit of 
freedom and reason reigns among the people ; 
they have been often known to act like tools, 
they are generally found to think like men. 



T ' Tlio lilerary activity of F,n?laii(l has increased 
tenfi)Iil »iiicc (ioidsmitli silay, iiolwitlixtaiiiliii^' wliicli 
it is suriiasscd in tliia resi>i'it both by franco and 
(Jcrmauy. 



156 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



The only <l:incjpr fliat aHoiids tlie multi- 
plicity of pulilicatious is, that some of them 
may be calculated to injure, rather than 
heiiefit society. But where writers are nu- 
merous, they also serve as a clieck upon each 
other; and perliaps a literary inquisition is 
tlie most terrihlo punishment that can he 
conceived to a literary transgressor. 

But to do the English justice, there are hut 
few olVenders of this kind; their puldications 
in general aim at mending either the heart, or 
improving the commonwealth. The dullest 
writer talks of virtue, and liberty, and be- 
nevolence with esteem ; tells his true story, 
filled with good and wholesome advice ; 
warns against slavery, bribery, or the bite of 
a mad dog, and dresses up his little useful 
magazine of knowledge and entertainment 
at least with a good intention. The dunces 
of France, on the other hand, who have less 
encouragement, are more vicious. Tender 



hearts, languishing eyes, Leonora in love at 
tliirteen, ecstatic transports, stolen blisses, are 
the frivolous subjects of their frivolous me- 
moirs. In England, if a bawdy blockhead 
tlnis breaks in on the conmiunity, he sets his 
whole fraternity in a roar ; nor can lie escape, 
even thougli he s]ii)uld fly to nobility for 
slielter. 

Thus even dunces, my friend, may make 
themselves useful. But there are others whom 
nature has blest with talents above the rest 
of mankind; men capable of thinking with 
precision, and impressing their thoughts v/ith 
rapidity. Beings who diffuse those regards 
uj);)n mankind, which others contract and 
settle upan themselves. These deserve every 
honour from that community of which they 
are more peculiarly the children ; to such I 
would give my heart, since to them I am in- 
debted for its humanity ! Adieu. 



LETTER LXXVI. 

THE riiEFEREKCE OF GRACE TO BEAUTV ; AN ALLEGORY. 
From Hhiijpu to Lien Chi Altaiigi^ hj the ivaij of ]\loscow. 



I STILL remain at Terki, where I have re- 
ceived that money wliicli was remitted here, 
in order to release me from captivity. My 
fair companion still improves in my esteem; 
the more I know her mind, her beauty be- 
comes more poignant ; she a]ipears charming 
even among the daughters of Circassia. 

Yet were I to examine her beauty with the 
art of a statuary, I should tind numbers 
tliat far surpass her; nature has not granted 
her all the boasted Circassian regularity of 
feature, and yet she greatly exceeds the 
fairest of the country, in the art of seizing 
the alTections. Whence, have I often said to 
myself, this resistless magic tliat attends even 
moderate charms '? though I regard the beau- 
ties of the country with admiration, every 
interview weakens the impression, but the 
form of Zelis grows upon my imagination; 
I never behold her without an increase of 
tenderness and respect. Whence this injus- 
tice of the mind in preferring imjierfect beauty 
to tliat which nature seems to have linished 
with care? Whence the infatuation, that he 



whom a comet could not amaze should be 
astonished at a meteor? When reason was 
thus fatigued to find an answer my imagi- 
nation pursued the subject, and this was the 
result. 

I fancied myself placed between two land- 
scapes, this called the Region of Beauty, and 
that the Valley of the Graces ; the one 
adorned with all that luxuriant nature could 
bestow ; the fruits of various climates adorned 
the trees, the grove resounded with music, 
the gale breathed perfume, every charm that 
could arise from symmetry and exact dis- 
tribution were here conspicuous, tlie whole 
olVeriiig a prospect of pleasure without end. 
The Galley of the Graces, on the other liaiid, 
seemed by no means so inviting; tlie streams 
and the groves appeared just as they usually 
do in frequented countries : no magnilicent 
parterres, no concert in the grove, the rivulet 
was edged with weeds, and the rook joined 
its voice to that of the nightingale. All was 
simplicity and nature 

The most striking objects ever first allure 



PREFERENCE OF GRACE TO nEAlTY. 



]y, 



the traveller. I entered the Region of 
Beauty with increased curiosity, and j)ro- 
mised myself enilless satisfaction in being 
introduced to tlie jjresiding goddess. I per- 
ceived several strangers, wiio entered witli the 
same design, and what surprised nie 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 introiluced to the goddess, who repre- 
sented beauty in person. She was seated on 
a throne, at the foot of which stood several 
strangers lately introduced like me ; all re- 
garding her fonn in ecstasy. Ah. irluif eyes.' 
vhdf Zips ! how clear her coiii/j/ej-ioii ! how 
perfect her shape! At these exclamations, 
Beauty, with downcast eyes, would endeavour 
to counterfeit modesty, but soon again look- 
ing 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. 

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 incli- 
nations of the head ? will the goddess oidy 
deign to satisfy our eyes?" Upon this one 
of the company stepped up to present her 
with some fruits he had gathered by the waj-. 
She received the present most sweetly smiling, 
and with one of tlie whitest haTids in the 
world, but still not a word escapetl her lips. 

I now found that my companions grew 
weary of their homage ; they went olV one by 
one, and resolving not to be left behind, I 
ofl'ered to go in my turn ; when just at the 
door of the temple I was called back Ijy a 
female, whose name was Pride, and who 
seemed displeased at the behaviour of the 
com])any. " Where are you hastening ?"' 
said she to me, with an 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 enougli," returned I; "1 have got all 



her features by heart. Her eyes are still the 
same. Her nose is a very fine one, 1)ut 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 sliouhl Ije for wishing 
to have more of her coni])any." — " Wliat 
signifies," replied my female, '• whether she 
has a mind or not ? has she any occasion for 
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 ])oint of perfection, and 
a line laily should endeavour to keep it so ; 
the imj)ression it would *eceive from thought 
would but rlisturb its whole economy." 

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

As we entered the valley the prospect in- 
sensibly seemed to improve; we found eveiy- 
thing so natural, so domestic, and pleasing, 
that our minds which before were congealed 
in admiration, now relaxed into gaiety and 
good liumour. We had designed to pay our 
resjiects to the presiding goddess, but she was 
nowliere to be found. One of our com- 
panions 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 l)ehind. In short, we 
founil everything familiar and charming, but 
coidd not determine where to seek for the 
Grace in person. 

In tliis agreeable incertitude we passed 
several hours, and though very desirous of 
finding the goddess, by no means impatient 
of the delay. Every part of the valley pre- 
sentetl some miinite beauty, Avhieh, without 
otVering itself at once, stole within the soul, 
and cajitivated us with the charms of our 
retreat. Still, however, we continued to 
search, and miglit still have continueil, had 
we not been interrupted by a voice which, 
though we couhl not see from whence it 
came, addressed us in this manner : — 

'• If you would find tlie Goddess of Grace, 
seek her not undi'r one form, for she assumes 
a thousand. Ever changing under the eye 



158 



CITIZEN OF THE "WORLD. 



of inspection, her varietj', rather than her 
figure, is pleasinp;. In contemplating her 
beauty, the eye glides over every perfection 
with giddy delight, and capable of tixing no- 
where, is charmed with the whole.^ She is 
now Contemplation with solemn look, again 
Compassion with hu:iiid eye ; she now 



sparkles with joy, soon every feature speaks 
distress : her looks at times invite our ap- 
proacli, at others repress our presumption ; 
the goddess cannot be properly called beau- 
tiful under any one of these forms, but by 
combining them all, she becomes irresistibly 
pleasing."' Adieu. 



LETTER LXXVII. 



THE BEHAVIOVR OF A SHOPKEEPEK AND HIS JOURNEVMAX. 

Fro?/i Lien Chi Altatuji to Finn Hoain, first president of the Ceremonial Academy at Pekin, 

in China. 



The shops of London are as well furnished 
as those of Pekin. Those of London have a 
picture hung at their door, informing the 
passengers what thej^ have to sell, as those at 
Pekin have a board to assure the buyer that 
they have no intention to cheat him ^ 

I was this morning to buy silk for a night- 
cajD ; immediately upon entering the mercer's 
shop, the master and his two men, with wigs 
plastered with powder, appeared to ask my 
commands. Tliey were certainly the civilest 
people alive; if 1 but looked, they flew to 
the place where I cast my eye ; every motion 
of mine sent them running round the whole 
shop for my satisfaction. I informed them 
that I wanted what was good, and they showed 
me not less than forty pieces, and each was 
better than the former ; tlie prettiest pattern 
in nature, and the fittest in the world for 
night-caps. '• My very good friend," said I 
to the mercer, '• you must not pretend to 
instruct me in silks; I know these in par- 
ticular to be no better than j-our mere flimsy 
Bungees." — " That may be,'" cried the mer- 

1 Vultus nimium lubricus aspici. — Hor. (A.) 

2 In Canton the several streets are commonly 
deToteil to distinct trades. Mr. Davis informs us that 
" by the side of each shop is suspended from on high 
a husje ornameut.il label of wood, varnished and 
gilded, on which are inscribed the ))articular calling 
of the tenant, and the goods in whicli he deals. The 
vista of these numerous variegated sign-boards, glit- 
tering with gold and varnish, gives to the better 
streets a very gay appearance." The following are 
specimens of the iusciiptions in the shops : — " Gossip- 
ing and long sitting injure business." " Former cus- 
tomers have inspired caution— no credit given." 



cer, who I afterwards found had never con- 
tradicted a man in his life, "I cannot pretend 
to say but they may ; but I can assure you 
my Lady Trail has had a sacque from this 
piece this very morning." — '" But, friend,'' 
said I, " though my lady has chosen a sacque 
from it, I see no necessity that I should wear 
it for a night-cap.'' — " That may be, " re- 
turned he again, " yet what becomes a pretty- 
lady, will at any time look well on a hand- 
some gentleman."' This short compliment 
was thrown in so very seasonably upon my 
ugly face, that even, though I disliked the 
silk, I desired him to cut me ofl' the pattern 
of a night-cap. 

While this business was consigned to his 
jovu-neyman, the master himself took down 
some pieces of silk still finer than any I had 
yet seen, and spreading them before me, 
" There,'" cries he, '• there's beauty ; my Lord 
Snakeskin has bespoke the fellow to tliis for 
the birth-night this very morning ; it would 
look charmingly in waistcoats." — " But I do 
not want a waistcoat," replied I. — "Not 
want a waistcoat ?"' returned the mercer, 
'' then I would advise you to buy one ; when 
waistcoats are wanted, you may depend upon 
it they will become dear. Always buy 
before you want, and you are sure to be well 
used, as they say in Cheapside.'' There was 
so much justice in his advice, that I could 
not refuse taking it ; besides, the silk, which 
was really a good one, increased the tempta- 
tion ; so I gave orders for that too. 

As I was waiting to have my bargains 



THE FRENCH KIDICILED AFTER TIIEIK OAVN MANNER. 



159 



measured and cut, whicli, I know not how, 
lliey executed but slowly; during the interval 
tJie mercer entertaintul me with the modern 
manner ol" some of the nobility receivinj^ 
company in tlieir morning gowns : "Perhaps, 
Sir," adils he, " you have a mind to see 
what kintl of silk is universally worn." 
Without waiting for my reply, he spreads a 
piece liefore me which might be reckoiietl 
beautiful even in China. •■ if the nobility," 
continues he, " were to know I sold this to 
any unller a Right Honourable. 1 should cer- 
tainly lose their custom ; you see. my lord, it 
is at once rich, tasty, and quite tlie thing." 
— " I am no loril," interru))ted I. " I beg 
pardon," cried he, " but be pleased to re- 
member, when you intend buyinga morning- 
gown, that you had an ofl'er from me of 
sonjething 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 mv business to advise." In 



short, most revered Fum, he persuaded me 
to buy a morning-gown also, and would 
jimbably have ])ersuaded me to have liought 
half the goods in his shop if ] had stayed 
long enough, or was furnished with siillicient 
money. 

Ujwn returning home, I could not help 
reflecting, with some astonishment, how tliis 
very man. with such a confnied education 
and capacity, was yet capable of timiing mo 
as he thought proper, and moulding nie to 
his inclinations! 1 knew he was only answer- 
ing Ids own ])ur]K)ses, even while he attempted 
to appear solicitous about mine ; yet by a 
voluntary infatuation, a sort of passion com- 
pounded of vanity and good-natiu-e, I walked 
into the snare with my eyes open, and put 
myself to future pain, in order to give him 
immediate ])leasure. The wisdom of the 
ignorant somewhat resembles the instinct of 
animals ; it is dill'used in but a verj' narrow 
sphere, but within that cii-cle it acts with 
vigour, uniformity, and success. Adieu. 



LETTER LXXVIII. 



THE FKENCll KIDICL'LED AFTER THEIR OWN MANNER. 
From Ike Same. 



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

I may, ujion another occiision, ])oint out 
what is most strikingly absurd in other coun- 
tries ; 1 shall at present conline myself only 
to France. The first national peculiarity a 
traveller meets ujxjn entering that kingdom, 
is an otld sort of a staring vivacity in every 
eye, not excepting even tile chihiren ; the 
j)eople, it seems, have got into their heads 
that they have more wit than others, and so 
stare in order to look smart. 

I know not how it happens, but there ap- 
pears a sickly delicacy in the faces of their 
finest women. This may have introduced 
the use of [laiut, and pauit produces wruiklvs : 



so that a fine lady shall look like a liag at 
twenty-three. But as in some measure they 
never appear young, so it may be equally 
asserted that they actually tliink themselves 
never old; a gentle miss shall prepare for new 
conquests at sixty, shall hobble a rigadoon' 
when slie can scarcely hobble out without a 
crutch, she shall aflect the girl, jilay her fan 
and her eyes, and talk of sentiments, bleeding 
hearts, and expiring for love when dying 
with age. Like a departuig ))hilosopher, she 
attempts to make her last moments the most 
brilliant of her life. 

Their civility to strangers is what they are 
chiefly proud of; and to confess sincerely, 
their l)eggars are the very politest beggars I 
ever knew ; in other places a traveller is 
addressed with a piteous whine, or a sturdy 

1 A gay brisk (Uuce performed by one couple. 



li'.O 



CITIZEN OF TIIK W()RI,D. 



soleninity, but. a French beggar shall ask 
your charity with a very genteel bow, and 
tliank you for it witli a smile and shrug. 

Another instance of tliis people's breeding 
I nui-.t not forget. An Englishman could 
not speak liis native language in a company 
of foreigners where he was sure that none un- 
derstooil him; a travelling Hottentot himself 
would l)e silent if acquainted only with the 
language of his country ; but a Frenchman 
shall talk to you whether you understand his 
language or not ; never troidiling liis head 
whether you have learned Frencli, still keeps 
up tl)e conversation, lixes liis eye full in your 
face, and asks a tliousand questions, which 
he answers himself for want of a more satisfac- 
tory re})ly. 

13ut their civility to foreigners is not half 
so great as their admiration of themselves. 
Everything that belongs to tliem and tlieir 
nation is great, inagnllicent beyond ex- 
pression ; quite romantic ; every garden is a 
paradise, every hovel a palace, and every 



woman an angel. They shut tlieir eyes close, 
throw their mouths wide open, and cry out 
in rapture: Sacre ! What beauty I () Ciel, 
what taste ! mort de ma vie ! what grandeur! 
was ever any people like ourselves ? we are 
the nation of men, and all the rest no better 
than two-legged barbarians. 

I fancy the French would make tlie best 
cooks in the world, if they had but meat ; as 
it is, they can dress you out five diil'erent 
dishes from a nettle-top, seven from a dock 
leaf, and twice as many from a frog's haunches ; 
these eat prettily enougli when one is a little 
used to them, are easy of digestion, and sel- 
dom overload the stomach with crudities. 
They seldom dine under seven hot dishes ; it 
is true, indeed, with all this magniticence, 
they seldom spread a cloth before tlie guests; 
but in that I cannot be angry witli them ; 
since those who liave got no linen on tlieir 
backs may very well be excused for wanting 
it upon their tables. 

Even religion itself loses its solemnity 



^■^iil^^^v^-j^-.. 




[Maiidariu with Oj ium Pipo.] 



PREPARATIONS OF BOTH THEATRES. 



IGl 



.imoii|T tlieni. Upon their roads, at about . 
cviTV iive miles distance, j-ou see an image of I 
the \'irs,'iii Mary dresseil u]) in f,'rini head- ' 
ch)tlts, painted cheeks, and an old red petti- 
coat ; l>efore lier a hinip is often kept l)urniiig, 
at which, with the saint's ])erniission, I have 
freijuently liglited mj- pii)e.' Instead of tlie 
Virgin you are sometimes presented witli a 
crucifix, at other times with a wooden Sa- 
viour, lilted out in complete garniture, with 
sponge, spear, nails, pincers, luunmer, bees'- 
wax, and vinegar-ljottle. .Some of these 
images, I have been told, came down from 
heaven ; if so, in heaven they have but 
bungling workmen. 



In passing throvigh their towns, you fre- 
quently see the men sitting at tlie doors 
knitting stockings, while the care of cultivat- 
ing the ground and ])runing the vines fidls 
to the women. Tiiis is jierliaps the reasoii why 
the lair scxare granted some peculiar privileges 
in this country ; particularly, when they can 
get horses, of riding without a side-saddle. 

But I begin to think you may find this 
description pert and dull enough ; perhaps 
it is so, yet in general it is the maimer in 
which the French usually describe foreigners ; 
and it is l)ut just to force a part of that ridi- 
cule back upon them, which they attempt 
to lavish on others.* 



LETTER L.\XIX. 



THE riiEPARATlONS OF BOTH THEATRES FOU A WINTER CAMPAIGN. 

From the Same. 



The two theatres, which sen'e to amuse tlie 
citizens here, are again opened for the winter. 
The mimetic troops, dilVerent from those of 
the state, begin their campaign when all the 
others quit the field : and at a time when the 
EunijR'ans cease to destroy each other in 
reality, they are entertained with mock battles 
upon the stage. 

The dancing-master once more shakes his 
quivering feet ; the carjjenter prepares liis 
j'ara<lise of pasteboanl ; the hero resolves to 
cover his forehead with brass, and the heroine 

' The Chinese <lo not smoke t'jharrii, ami when 
this Icttf-r was written \\\k practice of npium smoking 
liad not Ivcomc prevalent to anytliiiii; like its pre- 
sent extent : Imt opium had Inns; l)efore been re- 
g.-udeil in China as a luxury, and a prolitalili' article 
of commerei". This was well known to I>e Foe, and 
thou;;li mcntione<l ip a work of liction (' Robinson 
Crusoe,' S4H:onil part ^, is one of the many tacts con- 
tained in this and his othi'r works of tlie same class. 
Within the hi.A half century the practice of opium 
sraokiuf; hxs spread witli iuitonishini; rapidity in 
China. The opium ])repared for this purpose is 
boiled and wethed to s<'parat<; the resinous parts, 
.nnd the remainder is formed into small l)alls, one of 
which is plu-ed in a wooden pil>e witli some sub- 
stance wliich readily bums, anil the fumes are in- 
haled in the m.inner exhiliited in the cut. .\t enter- 
tainments a. dish of the prepared opium is brought 
In with a lamp, and the pipe is pu;>sc'd round until 
the gucsta become intoxicated. 



begins to scour up her copper tail, ])repara- 
tive to future operations; in short, all are in 
motion, from the theatrical letter-carrier in 
yellow clothes, to Alexander the Great tliat 
stands on a stool. 

Both houses have alreaily commenced hos- 
tilities."* War, open war, and no quarter re- 
ceived or given! Two singing women, like 
heralds, have begun the contest ; the whole 
town is divided on this solemn occasion; one 
has the finest pipe, the other the finest manner ; 
one curtsies to tlie ground, the otiier salutes 
the audience with a smile ; one comes cii 



8 Goldsmith spoke of tlie French as he had 
known them thiity years before the Revolution, wlieu 
thev presented more of those salient jioints which 
Hoi;aith treati'd so much in the spirit of eariciiture. 
There has since been a tendency in the manners and 
h.abits of the French people to an assimilation with 
those of otlier countries, and particularly to Eng- 
land. 

" The theatrical sexsoii of this year (ITGO") com- 
menced with a more than usually active contest for 
pnl)li<- favcmr lietweeii the two irreat thi'atres. Lowe 
and Mrs. Vincent, as Machoath and I'olly in tinj 
' Ue^^'ars' Opera,' were the stars of Drury Lane.tlien 
under the mana^'emcnt of Carrick; and Deard, an 
eminent singer, who ha<l married the daughter of 
Rich, the manager of Covent (iarden, brought the 
character of ICuitlish stage-music to a high state of 
perfection at the latter theatre. 



102 



CITIZEN or THE WOULD. 



with modesty which asks, the other with bolil- 
iiess which extorts, ajjplause; one wears pow- 
der, the other has none ; one has the L)nu-est 
waist, hut tlie other a])iJ<'ars most easy; all. 
all is ini])ortant ami seridus; tlie town as yet 
j^erseveres in its neutrality, a cause of such 
moment demands tlie most mature deliijera- 
tion, they continue to exhihit, and it is very 
possible this contest may continue to jilease 
to the end of the season. 

But the generals of either army h.ave, as I 
am tolil, several reinforcements to lend occa- 
sional assistance. If they produce a pair of 
diamond buckles at one house, we have a 
pair of eye-brows that can matcli them at the 
other. If we outdo them in our attitude, they 
can overcome vis by a shrug ; if we can l)ring 
more children on the stage, they can bring 
more guards in red clotlies, who sti'ut and 
shoiilder their swords to the astonishment of 
every spectator. 

They tell me here, that peo^jle frequent the 
theatre in order to be instructed as well as 
amused. I smile to hear the assertion. If I 
ever go to one of their play-houses, what with 
trumpets, hallooing behind tlie stage, and 
bawling upon it, I am quite dizzy before the 
performance is over. If I enter the house 
with any sentiments in my head, I am sure 
to have none going away, the whole mind 
being filled with a dead march, a funeral 
procession, a cat-call, a jig, or a tempest. 

There is perliaps nothing more easy than to 
write properly fc>r the Euglisli theatre ; I am 
amazed that none are apprenticed to the ti'ade. 
The author, when well acquainted with the 
value of thunder and lightning, when versed 
in all the mystery of scene-shifting and trap- 
doors ; when skilled in the proper periods to 
inti-oduce a wire-walker or a water- fall ; when 
insti-ucted in every actor's peculiar talent, 
and capable of adapting his speeches to the 
supposed excellence; when thus instructed, 
he knows all that can give a modern audience 
pleasure. One player shines in an exclama- 
tion, another in a groan, a third in a horror, a 
fourtli in a start, a fifth in a smile, a sixth 



faints, and a seventh fidgets round the stage 
with peculiar vivacity ; tliat piece therefore 
will succeed best where each has a proper op- 
portunity of sliining; the actor's business is 
not so much to adaj)t himself to the poet, as 
the poet's to adapt himself to the actor. 

The great secret therefore of tragedy writing 
at present, is aperfectacquaintance witli thea- 
ti'ical ah's and oh's : a certain number of these 
interspersed with gods ! tortures, racks, and 
damnation, shall distort every actor almost into 
convulsions, and draw tears from every spec- 
tator; a proper use of these will infallibly fill 
the whole house with apjilause. ISut, above 
all, a whining scene must strike mostforcihly. 
I would advise, from my present knowledge 
of the audience, the two favourite players of 
the town to iiiti'oduce a scene of this sort in 
every play. Towards the middle of the last 
act, I would have tliem enter with wild looks 
and out sjoread arms; there is no necessity 
for speaking, tliey are only to groan at each 
other, they must vary the tones of exclamation 
and despair through the whole theatrical ga- 
mut, wring their figures into every shape of 
distress, and when their calamities have drav/n 
a proper quantity of tears from the sympathetic 
spectators, they may go oft' in dumb solemnity 
at different doors, clasping their hands, or 
slapjiing their pocket-holes; this, which may 
be called a tragic pantomime, will answer 
every purpose of moving the passions as well 
as words could have done, and it must save 
those expenses which go to reward an author. 

All modern plays tliat would keep the au- 
dience alive, must be conceived in this manner, 
and indeed, many a modern play is made up 
on no other plan. This is the merit that lifts 
uji tlie heart, like opium, into a rapture of 
insensibility, and can dismiss the mind from 
all the fatigue of thinking : this is the elo- 
quence that shines in many a long-forgotten 
scene, which has been reckoned excessively 
fine upon acting; this the lightning that 
flashes no less in the hyperbolical tyrant, wlto 
breakfasts on the wind, than in little Norval, 
as harmless as the babe unborn. Adieu. 



EVIL TENDENCY OT INCREASING TEXAI. r.WVS. 



163 



LETTER L\'X\. 



THE EVIL TENDENCY OF INCREAStXG PKNAI. LAWS, OK EVEN ENFORCING THOSE ALREADY IN 



BEING WITH RIGOIK. 



From the Same. 



I HAVE always regarded the spirit of mercy 
which appears in the Chinese laws with 
admiration.* An order for the eseciition of 
a criminal !>; carried from court by slow 
journeys of six miles a-day; but a pardon is 
sent down with the most rapid despatch. 
If five sons of the same father be guilty of 
the same oflence, one of them is forgiven, in 
order to continue tlie family, and comfort the 
agetl parents in their decline. Similar to 
this, there is a spirit of mercy breathes 
tlirough the laws of England, wliicli some 
erroneously endeavour to suppress ; the laws 
however seem unwilling to punish the 
offender, or to furnisli the officers of justice 
with every means of acting with severitj-. 
Those who arrest debtors are denied the use 
of amis, the nightly watch is permitted to 
repress the disorders of the drunken citizens 
only with clul)s ; Justice in such a case seems 
to hide her terrors, and permits some oflenders 
to escajjc rather than load any with a pun- 
ishment disproportioned to the crime. 

Thus it is the glory of an Englishman, 
that he is not only governed by laws, but 
titat these are also tempered by mercy : a 
country restrained by severe laws, and those, 
too, executed with severity (as in Japan),* is 

1 Tlie si>irit and tendency of this lettor is higlily | 
rreditible to rn>ldsniit)), and it was creatly in ad- 
vance nt the time. Ncirly lialf a century cLipsed 
Ix-fore Sir .Samuel Komilly w;is enabled to overcome 
imlilic jirej iidice , and U> commence the reform of the 
criminal laws; and s-ime of his most vahialile mea- 
sun-s were not carried until tliey had been four or 
fivi- times rejected hy the leuislatu're. No. IHofthe 
' ltambler'(. April :iOtli, H.'il jileserves also to be men- 
tioned here as all .iilniirable exposition of the im- 
policy of the same l.iws. 

" Mr. Kllis, our late .amKissador to Persia, who 
accompanii'd Lord Macartney to I'ekin, in compar- 
ing China uith other parts of .Asia, s:iys that "the 
laws are mire (.'emT.illy known and more ecjually 
administi-reil ; .md tlio^e examples of oppress! )n ac- 
companied with inHictiuM (d' liarKiroii-i punishment 
which olTeiid the eye and di^t^ess the feeling's in 
other .\si;aic countries, are scarcidy to be met with." 

•* Mr. Davis quotes Kaimpfer, who wrote a his- 



under the most terrible species of tyranny ; 
a royal tyrant is generally dreadl'ul to the 
great, but numerous penal laws grind every 
rank of people, and chiefly those least able 
to resist oppression — the poor. 

It is very possible thus for a people to be- 
come slaves to laws of their own enacting, as 
the Athenians were to those of Draco. " It 
might first happen,"' says the historian, "that 
men with peculiar talents for villainy, 
attempted to evade the ordinances alre.ady 
estal)lished; their practices therefore soon 
brought on a new law levelled against them ; 
but the same degree of cunning which had 
taught the knave to evade tlie former statutes, 
taught him to evade the latter also ; he flew 
to new sliifts, wliile justice pursued with 
new ordinances: still, however, he kept his 
proper distance, and wlienevcr one crime was 
judged penal by the state, he left committing 
it in order to practise some unforbidden 
species of villainy. Thus the criminal against 
whom the threatenings were denounced 
always escaped free ; while the simple rogue 
alone felt tlie rigour of justice. In the mean 
time penal laws became numerous, almost 
every person in the state unknowingly at 
diflerent times ofl'ended, and was every 
moment subject to a malicious prosecution." 
In fact, penal laws, instead of preventing 
crimes, are generally enacted after the com- 
mission ; instead of repressing the growth 
of ingenious villainy, only multiply tleceit, 
by ])uttiiig it upon new shifts and expedients 
of jiractising with impunity. 

Such laws, tlierefore, resemble the guards 
whicli are sometimes imposed upon tributary 
princes, apparently indeed to secure them 
from danger, but in reality to confirm their 
captivity. 

tory of Japan, in which it is sUitcd that "the b.ire 
transxression of the law is c-ipiUvl, without any re- 
gard to the de;,'ree or heinousness of tile crime, or 
the favour.iblc circumstances the ofleiuler's cnsa may 
be accompanied witli." 

m2 



IGl 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD, 



Penal laws, it must, be allowed, secure pro- 
perty iu a state, but tliey also dimiiiisli 
personal security in the same projiortion : 
there is no positive law, how e(juitabK> soever, 
that may not be sometimes capaljle of injus- 
tice. AVhen a law enacted to make Iheft 
punishable witli deatli happens to be 
equitably executed, it can at best only guard 
our possessions ; but when by favour or 
ignorance justice pronounces a wrong verdict, 
it then attacks our lives, since in such a case 
the whole comminiity sutlers with the 
innocent victim ; if thorefore, in order to 
secure the effects of one man, I should make 
a law which may take away the life of 
another, in such a case to attain a smaller 
good I am guilty of a greater evil ; to secure 
society in the possession of a bauble, I render 
.a real and valuable possession precarious. 
And indeed the experience of every age may 
serve to vindicate the assertion : no law 
could be more just than tliat called tt-see 
Majestatis, when Rome was governed by 
emperors. It was but reasonable that every 
conspiracy against the administration should 
be delected and punished : yet what terrible 
slaughter succeeded in consequence of its 
enactment ! proscriptions, strangliiigs, poison- 
ings, in almost every family of distinction ; 
yet all done in a legal way, every criminal 
had his trial, and lost his life by a majority 
of witnesses. 

And such will ever be the case, where 
punishments are numerous, and where a 
weak, vicious, but above all, wliere a merce- 
nary magistrate is concerned in tlieir exe- 
cution : sucli a man desires to see penal laws 
increased, since he too frequently lias it in 
his power to turn them into instruments of 
extortion; in such hands tlie more laws, the 
wider riieans, not of satisfying justice, but of 
satiating avarice. 

A mercenary magistrate, who is rewarded 
in proportion not to his integrity, but to the 
ninnber he convicts, must be a person of the 



most unblemished character, or he will lean 
on the side of crueltj'; and when once the 
work of injustice is begvni it is impossible to 
tell liow far it will jiroceed : it is said of the 
hyaena, that naturally it is no way ravenous, 
but when once it has tasted liiunan flesh, it 
becomes the most voracious animal of the 
forest, and continues to persecute mankind 
ever after: a corrupt magistrate may be con- 
sidered as ahumanhyaena; he begins perhaps 
by a private snap, he goes on to a morsel 
among friends, he proceeds to amealin public, 
from a meal he advances to a surfeit, and 
at last sucks blood like a vampyre. 

Not into such hands should the administra- 
tion of justice be intrusted, but to those who , 
l;now how to reward as well as to punish. It j 
was a fine saying of Nangfu, the emperor, 
who being told that his enemies liad raised an 
insurrection in one of tlie distant provinces, 
" Come tlien, my friends,"" said he, '• follow 
me, and I promise you tliat we sliall quickly 
destroy them :"' he marched forward, and tlie 
rebels submitted upon his approach. All now 
thought that he would take the most signal 
revenge, but were surprised to see the cap- 
tives treated with mildness and humanity. 
"How!" cries his first minister, "is this the 
manner in which you fulfil j-our jiromise? 
your royal word was given that your ene- 
mies should be destroyed, and behold you 
have pardoned all, and even caressed some!"' 
" I promised," replied the emperor, with a 
generous air, " to destroy my enemies ; I have 
fulfilled my word, for see they are enemies no 
longer; I have made friends of them." 

This, could it always succeed, were the true 
method of destroying the enemies of a state ; 
well it were if rewards and mercy alone 
could regulate the commonwealth ; but since 
punishments are sometimes necessary, let 
tliem at least be rendered terrible, hy being 
executed but seldom, and let Justice lift her 
sword rather to terrify than revenge. Adieu. 



I-ADIES TUAINS RIDICULED. 



] 0.3 





[Ladies' Traius.] 



LETTER LXXXL 



THE LADIES TRAINS KIDICt'LED. 



From the Same. 



I HAVE as yet (^iven you l)ut a sliort and im- 
perfect description of the ladies of England. 
Woman, my friend, is a sulyect not easily 
understood, even in China: what therefore 
can be expected from my knouledfre of tlie 
sex in a country where tliey are universally 
allowed to he riddles, and 1 hut a stranjrer ? 

To confess a trutii, I was afraid to begin 
the description, lest the sex should undergo 
some new revolution before it was finished, 
and my jiicture should thus become old 
before it could well be saiilto have ever been 
new. To-day tiiey are lifted updu, sfilt.s, to- 
morrow they lower their heels and raise their 
heads; their clothes at onetime are bloated 
out with wlialel)oiie; at ])rescnt they have 
laid their hoops aside, and are become as slim 
as mermaids.' All, all is in astaleofcon- 

' In 1T45 a i>amphlet was publ'Mhpd entitled, 
'The Enormoua .\boininaUon of tlie Hoop IVtticoat, 



tiiuial fluctuation, from the man<larin's wife, 
who rattles through the streets in her cliariol, 
to the humble sempstress, who clatters over 
the pavement in iron-sliod pattens. 

What chielly distinguishes the sex at pre- 
sent is the train. As a lady's quality or 
fashion was once determined here by the cir- 
cumference of her hoop, both are now 
measure<l by the length of her tail. Women 
of moderate fortunes are contented with tails 



as tlio Fasliinn now i^.' Ten years afterwards this 
"abomination" had almost vanished; Imt in l'!>~ it 
w.as again revive<l ; and during tlie whole of the 
rei^n of (>eor(,'e 1 II. it formed a part of full ilress 
on court days. On llie accession of (;eor;;e IV. tin; 
fa-hion disappcarccl. .VboiU 17.'>5 the head liress was 
low, and small frilled caps ami (,'ips\ hats were worn, 
but it aj,'ain expandi'd into mountains of curls, 
powders, (lowers, and feathers. These fant;istic 
eliannes of fashiiui were as much laughed at and 
caricatured in that day as they can be at the present 
time. (' Uritisli Costume,' p. M'S.) 



166 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



moderately long ; but ladies of true tasle and 
distinction set no t)oiinds to tlieir ainltilion in 
this ]iaiticular. 1 am told the Lady Mayoit'ss, 
on days of c't'icniony, carries one lonj^erthan 
a bollwctlicr of Bantam, whose tail you know 
is trundled along in a wheel-barrow. 

Sun of China! what contradictions do we 
find in tliisshange world : not oidy the ])eople 
of different countries tlnnk in opposition to 
each other, but the inliabitants of a single 
island are often found inconsistent to tliem- 
selves ! Would you believe it? tliis very 
people, my Funi, wlio are so fond oi' seeing 
their women with long tails, at the same time 
dock their horses to the very rump ! ! ! 

But you may easily guess that I am no way 
displeased witli a fashion which tends to in- 
crease a demand for the commodities of the 
east, and is so very beneiicial to tlie country 
in whicli I was born. Nothing can be better 
calculated to increase the price of silk than 
the present manner of dressing. A lady's 
train is not bought but at some expense, and 
after it has swept the public walks for a very 
few evenings, is fit to be worn no longer : 
more silk must be bought in order to repair 
the breach, and some ladies of peculiar 
economj' aie thus found to patch up their tails 
eight or ten times in a season. This unneces- 
sary consumjition may introduce ]ioverty 
here, but then we shall be the riclier for it in 
China. 

The man in black, who is a professed enemy 
to this manner of ornamenting the tail, assures 
me there are numberless inconveniences at- 
tending it, and that a lady dressed up to the 
fashion is as much a cripjjle as any in Nankin. 
Uut his cliief indignation is levelled at those 
who dress in this mamier without a proj er 
fortune to sujiport it. He assures me that he 
has known some who would have a tail 
though they wanted a petticoat, and otliers, 
who, without any other pretensions, fancied 
they became ladies merely from the addition 
of three superfluous yards of ragged silk. I 
know a thrilty good woman, continues he, 



who, thinking herself obliged to carry a train 
like her betters, never walks from home with- 
out the uneas)' apprehensions of wearing it out 
too soon ; every exclusion she makes gives 
her new anxiety, and her tail is every l)it as 
importunate, and wounds her peace, as much 
as tlie bladder we sometimes see tied to the 
tail of a cat. 

Nay, he ventures to affirm, that a train may 
often bring a lady into the most critical cir- 
cumstances? " for should a rude fellow,'' says 
he, " offer to come uj) to ravish a kiss, and the 
lady attempt to avoid it, in retiring she must 
necessarily tread upon her train, and thus fall 
fairly upon her l)ack, by which means every 
one knows — her clothes may be spoiled.'' 

The ladies here make no scruple to laugh 
at the smallness of a Chinese slipper: but I 
fancy our wives at China would have a more 
real cause of laughter, could they but see the 
iinmoderate length of an European train. 
Head of Confucius! to view a human being 
cri])pling herself with a great unwieldy tail 
for our diversion ; backwards she cannot go, 
forwards she must move but slowly, and if 
ever she attemjits to turn round, it must be in 
a circle not smaller than that described by 
the wheeling crocodile when it would face 
an assailant. And yet to think that all this 
coid'ers importance and majesty ! to tlnnk 
that a lady acquires additional respect fronr 
fifteen yards of trailing talfeta ! I caimot 
contain ; ha, ha, ha ! this is certaiidy a rem- 
nant of European barliarity ; the female 
Tartar dressed in shee])-skins is in far more 
convenient drapery. Their own writers have 
sometimes inveighed against the absurdity of 
this fashion ; but perha]js it has never been 
ridiculed so well as upon the Italian theatre; 
where Pasquarielo being engaged to attend on 
the Countess of Fernambroco, kaving one of 
his hands employed in carrying her mull', 
and the other her lap-dog, he l)ears her train 
majestically along by sticking it in tlie waist- 
])and of his breeches. Adieu. 



SCIENCES I.\ A rOPULOUS AND BARBAROUS STATE. 



Ui7 



LETTER L.WXII. 



THE SCIENCES VSEFl'L IN A POPULOUS STATE PUEJLDICIAL IN A BARBAROUS ONE. 

From the Same. 



\ DisPiTE lias for some time divided the 
])!iilosoi)lici-3 1)1' Europe; it isdeli;ited, whether 
arts ami sciences are more serviceable or pre- 
judicial to nuinkiiid. They who maintain 
tlie causeot" literature endeavour to prove their 
uselulness from tlie impossibility of a lari;:e 
number of men subsisting in a small tract of 
country without tliem ; from the pleasure 
which attends the acquisition, and from tJie 
inlluence of knowledge in promoting practical 
morality. 

They who maintain tlie opposite opinion, 
display the hap]iinesj and innocence of those 
uncultivated nations who live without learn- 
ing; urge the numerous vices which are to 
be found only in polished society, enlarge 
upon the oppression, the cruelty and the 
blood which nujst necessarily be shed, in 
order to cement civil society, and insist upon 
the happy etiuality of conditions in a barba- 
rous state preferable to the natural subordi- 
nation of a more relined constitution. 

This dispute, which has already given so 
much employment to speculative indolence, 
has been managed with much ardour and 
(not to suppress our sentiments) but with 
little sagacity. They who insist that the 
sciences are useful in refined society are cer- 
tainly right, aud they who nianitain that 
barbarous nations are more happy without 
them, are right also; but when one side for 
this reason attempts to prove them as univer- 
sally useful to the s:)lilary barbarian as to 
the native of a crowded commonwealth; or 
when llie other endeavours to banisli them, as 
])rejudicial to all society, even from popu- 
lous states as well as from Ok; inhabitants of 
the wilderness, they are l)olh wrong; since 
that knowledge which makes the happiness 
of a relined European would be a torment to 
the precari<ms tenant of an vVsiatic wild. 

Let me, to prove this, transport the ima- 
gination for a moment to the midst of a 
forest in .Siberia. There we behold the in- 
habitant, poor inileed, but eijually fond of 
happiness with the most refined philosopher 



of China. The eartli lies uncultivated and 
uninhabited for miles around him; his little 
family and he the soh- ami undisputed pos- 
sessors. 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 can-ied on at the smallest expense 
of labour,' and that food wliicli is most agree- 
able to the a]))H'tite: he will prefer indolent 
though precarious luxury to a laborious 
tliDugh ])iTnianent comjietcnce ; and a know- 
ledge 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 projierty which he is 
afraid to lose, aud desires no more than will 
be suflicient to sustain him; to enter into 
compacts with others would be undergoing 
a voluntary obligation without the expect- 
ance of any reward. He and his countrymen 
are tenants, not rivals, in the same inexhaus- 
tible lorest; the increased possessions of one 
by no means diminishes the expectations 
arising from equal assiduity in another; there 
is no need of laws therefore to repress ambi- 
tion, where there can be no mischief attend- 
ing its most boundless gratilications. 

Our solitary Siberian will, in like manner, 



' Some of the views in lliii kUi-r are sjuuilor than 
even those of Adam Smith, tlioiiu'li *ioliismilli must 
not he re^'anli'il as a iinide muni such siiliji'cts. Tlio 
li;;lit iu wliich Ailam Smith vii-wi-il this (|iicstiim lias 
led to thi! lolloviiu^' note in Mr. .M'Ciilloch's oditiou 
of till- 'Wuahh 1)1' Nations:' " Thi- inhabitants of the 
hi^'lilanils of IVrtlishirc do n.it take to thi- l)reeding 
of cattle ; or tliose of the Carse of (Jo wrie to tlie cul- 
ture of wli.;at ; or those of the Shetland isl.inUs to 
the catchin,' of lish , because an iustiiuti\e propensity 
impels them to en;;aL,'e in such emidoyments, hut 
because they have learned from experience that they 
will obt;iiu the larszest supply of the necessaries of 
life l>y cnnfuiiuu themselves t > thise bianehes of 
industry for llw prDsi'cuti )n of which the\ have a 
deciileii iulvanlage, aud bartering their surplus pro- 
duct with others." 



168 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



liiul tlio sciences not only entirely useless in 
directing his practice, but disgusting- even in 
speculation. In every contem])lation our 
curiosity must be first excited by the appear- 
ances of things, before our reason undergoes 
the fatigue of investigating the causes. Some 
of those ajijjearances are ])roduced by experi- 
ment, 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 olijects 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 nuist be proportionably less ; and 
if that is diminished, tiie 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 
iirst interests our passions in the pursuit, points 
out the object of investigation, and reason j 
then comments where sense has led the way. j 
An increase in the number of our enjoyments, 
therefore, iiecessarilj' produces au 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, there- 
fore, to exhaust his time in quest of know- 
ledge, which neither curiosity prompts, nor 
pleasure impels him to pursue. When told 
of tl'.e exact admeasurement of a degree upon 
the equator at Quito, he feels no pleasure in 
the account ; when informed that such a dis- 
covery tends to promote navigation and com- 
merce, he finds himself no way interested in 
either. A discovery which some have pur- 
sued at the hazard of their lives, afl'ects 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. Jlore extended knowledge would 
only serve to render liina more unhappy ; it 



might lend a ray to show him the misery of 
his situation ; but could not guide him in 
his efibrts to avoid it. Ignorance is the hap- 
piness of the poor. 

The misery of a being endowed v.ith senti- 
ments above its capacity of fruition, is most 
admiralily described in one of the fables, 
of Lt)kman,' the Indian moralist. " An 
ele])luuit, that had been peculiarly serviceable 
in fighting the battles of Wistnov/, was or- 
dered by the god to wish for whatever he 
thought proper, and the desire should be at- 
tended with immediate gratification. The 
elephant thanked his benefactor on bended 
knees, and desired to be endowed with the 
reason and the faculties of a man. Wistnow 
wassoiTy to hearthe foolish request, and endea- 
voured to ilissuade him from his misplaced 
ambition ; but finding it to no purpose, gave 
him at last such a portion of wisdom as 
could correct even the Zendavesta of Zoro- 
aster. The reasoning elephant went away 
rejoicing in his new acquisition, and though 
his body still retained its ancient form, he 
f\)und his appetites and ])assions entirely 
altered. He first considered, that it would 
not only be more comfortable, but also more 
becoming, to wear clothes; but luihappily he 
had no method of making them himself, nor 
had he the use of speech to demand them from 
others, and this was the first time he felt real 
anxiety. He soon perceived how much more 
elegantly men were fed than he, therefore he 
liegan to loathe his usual food, and longed for 
those delicacies Vihich adorn the tal)les of 
princes; but here again he found it impos- 
sible to be satisfied; for though he could 
easily obtain flesh, yet he found it impossible 
to dress it in any degree of perfection. In 
short, every pleasure that contributed to the 
felicity of mankind, served only to render 
him more miserable, as he found himself 
utterly deprived of the power of enjoyment. 
In this manner he led a repining, discontented 
life, detesting himself, and displeased with his 
ill-judged ambition, till at last his benefactor, 
A\'istnow, taking compassion on his forlorn 



1 An Abyssinian pliilnsojilier of great repute : 
Maliomct has called a chapter in the Koran after 
liim, in which God is represented as saying, " I have 
bestowed wisdom upon Lokman." 



SOME CAUTIONS OX LIFE. 



M9 



situation, restored him to tlie ignorance and 
liiippiness which he was originally lornied to 
c-njov."" 

No, my friend ; to attenijit to introduce the 
sciences into a nation of wandering liarluiiians, 
is oidy to render them more niiserahle than 
even nature designed they should be. A 
lile of simplicity is best Ktted to a state of 
solitude. 

The great lawgiver of Russia attempted to 
improve the desolate iiihaijitants of Siberia, 
by sending amtiig them some of the politest 
men of Eiirojie. The conseciuence has shown 
that tlie country was as yet unlit to receive 
them ; they languished for a time with a sort 
of exotic malady, every day degenerated from 
themselves, and at last, instead of rendering 
the country more polite, they conformed to 
the soil and put on barbarity. 

No, my I'rienil ; in order to make the sciences 
useful in any coiuitry it must lirst become 
jiopulous ; the inhabitant must go through 
the dirterent stages of hunter, shepherd, and 



husbandman : then, when property becomes 
valualile, and consptiuently gives cause for 
injustice; then, when laws are apixniited to 

I repress injury and secure j)ossession; when 
men, l>y the sanction of those laws, become 
]i()ssessed of supcrlluity ; when luxmy is thus 
introduced andilemanils its continual supply, 
then it is that the sciences become necessary 

' and useful; tlie state then cannot subsist with- 

, out them ; they nuist then be introduced, at 
once to teacli men to draw the greatest possil)le 

. quantity of pleasure from circumscribed pos- 
session, and to restr.uu them within the 
bounds of moderate enjoyment. 

The sciences are not the cause of luxury, 
but its consequence, and this destroyer tlius 
brings with it an antidote which resists the 
virulence of its own jioison. By asserting 
that luxury introduces tlie sciences, we assert 
a truth: liut if with those, who reject the 
utility of learning, we assert that the sciences 
also introduce luxury, we shall be at once 
false, absurd, and ridiculous. Adieu. 



LETTER LXXXIII. 



SOME CAUTIONS ON LIFE, TAKEN FROM A MODEKN rilll.OSOPHEn OF CHINA, 

From Lien Chi Allaiiiji to Hii>gpo,b>/ (he way of Moscow. 



^'of are now arrived at an age, my son, wlien 
pleasure dissuades from application; but rob 
not, liy ])resent gratification, all the succeeding 
j)eriod of life of its happiness. Sacrilice a 
little pleasure at first to the expectance of 
greater. The study of a few years will 
make the rest of life completely easy 

Hut instead of continuing the sui>ject my- 
self, take tlie following instructions Ijiirrowed 
fr.)m a modern philosopher of China.' '• He 
who has begun his fortune by study will 
certainly conlirm it by perseveraiu-e. The 
love ol" books damps the passion for jileasure; 
and when this passion is once extinguished, 
life is then cheaply supported; thus a man 
Iteing ]>osscssed of more than he wants, can 



1 A tniuslation of this passage may also be seen in 
Dii Ilalde, vol. ii. fol. \t. 17 ami .jn. This eMract 
will at least serve t'j sliow that i'.milness I'ur hiimour 
which appears ill the writin(;s of the C'hiiieso. (\.) 



never be subject to great disa])pointmr-iits, 
and avoids all those meannesses which indi- 
gence sometimes unavoidably Jiroilnces. 

" There is an uiispeakai)le pleasure atteiiil- 
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 Ijook I have perused 
before, it resembles the meeting with an old 
one. We ought to lay hold of every incident 
in life for inipiovenient, the trifling as well 
as the important. It is not one diaiuond 
alone which gives lustre to another, a comuK n 
coarse stone is also em))loyed for that purpose. 
Thus I ought to draw advantage from the 
insults and contempt I meet with from a 
worthless fellow. His l)rutality ought to 
induce me to self-examination, and correct 
every l)lemish that may have given rise to 
this calumny. 

'• ^'et with all the pleasures and profits 



170 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



which are generally produced hy learning, 
jiarents ol'ten find it difficult to induce their 
<;liildren 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 oft". 
If they find themselves obliged to write two 
lines more polite than ordinary, their pencil 
tlien seems as heavy as a millstone, and tliey 
spend ten years in turning two or three periods 
with propriety. 

'■ These pereons are most at a loss when a 
banquet is almost over : the plate and the 
dice go round, that the number of little 
verses wliich each is obliged to repeat may 
be determined by chance. The booby, when 
it comes to his turn, apjiears quite stupid and 
insensible. The coinpany divert themselves 
witli 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 tojoin 
in the laugh without ever considering him- 
self as the burthen of all their good humour. 

'• But it is of no importance to read much, 
except you be regular in reading. If it be 
interrupted for any considerable time, it can 
never be attended with projjer improvement. 
There are some who study for one day with 
intense ap])lication, 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 the 
instruments of debauchery.^ They are dan- 
gerous fictions, where love is tire ruling 
passion. 

The most indecent strokes there pass for 
turns of wit, intrigue and criminal liberties 
for gallantry and politeness. Assignations, 
and even villainy, aie put in such strong 
lights, as may inspire even grown men with 
the strongest passion ; how much therefore 
ou<dit the youth of either sex to dread them 



i The trash published under the name of novels 
nud romances, with some exceptions, richly desened 
this censure. An essential improvement in this class 
of pulilications commenced soon after the beginning 
of the present ceutury. 



whose reason is so weak, and whose heails are 
so susceptil)le of passion ! 

To slip in by a back door, or leap a wall, 
are accomplislnnents that when handsomeh' 
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 bylaw. 
But as in tlie body of tlie work tlierearemany 
passages that offend good morals, overthrow 
laudable customs, violate the laws, and de- 
stroy the duties most essential to society, 
virtue is thereby exposed to the most danger- 
ous attacks. 

But, say some, the authors of these ro- 
mances have nothing in view, but to represent 
vice punished and virtue rewarded. Granted. 
But will the greater number of readers take 
notice of these punishments and rewards? 
Are not their minds carried to something else? 
Can it be imagined that the heart with which 
the author inspires theloveof virtue, can over- 
come that crowd of tliouglits which sway them 
to licentiousness ? To be able to inculcate 
virtue by so leaky a vehicle, the author must 
be a philosopher of first rank. But in our age 
we can find but few first-rate philosophers. 

Avoid such performances where vice 
assumes the face of virtue ; seek wisdom and 
knowledge without ever thinking you have 
found tliem. A man is wise while he con- 
tinues in the pursuit of wisdom : but when he 
once fancies tliat he has found the object of 
his inquiry, he then becomes a fool. Learn 
to pursue virtue from the man that is blind, 
who never makes a step without first examin- 
ing the ground witlr his staff. 

The world is like a vast sea, mankind like 
a vessel sailing on its tempestuous bosom. 
Our prudence is its sails, tlie sciences serve 
us for oars, good or bad fortune are the fa- 
vourable or contrary winds, and judgment is 
the rudder : witliout this last the vessel is 
tossed by every billow, and will find ship- 
wreck in every breeze. In a word, obscurity 
and indigence are the parents of vigilance and 
economy ; vigilance and economy of riches 
and honour ; riches and honour of pride and 
luxury; pride and luxury of impurity and 
idleness ; impurity and idleness again pro- 
duce indigence and obsciuity. Such are the 
revolutions of life. Adieu. 



ANECDOTES OF SEVERAL POETS. 



171 



LETTER LX.XXIV 



ANECDOTES OF SEVERAL POETS WHO LIVED AND DIED IN CIRCUMSTANCES OF WRETCUEDNESS. 

From Lien Chi Allangi lo Finn lluam.Jirst president i>f t}ie Ceremonial Academy at Pekin, in 

China. 



I PANCv the character of a poet is in every 
country the same, I'untl ot" enjoyin;^ the pre- 
sent, careless of tlie future, his conversation 
that of a man of sense, his actions those of a 
fool ! of fortitude able to stand inimovetl at 
the Imrsting of an earthquake, yet of sensibility 
to l)e aflected by the breaking of a tea-cup ; 
such is Ills character, which, considered in 
every light, is the very opposite of that which 
leads to riches.' 

Tlie poets of tlie West are as remarkable for 
their indigence as their genius, and yet among 
the numerous hospitals designed to relieve 
the poor. I have heard of but one erected for 
tlie benefit of decayed authors. This was 
founded by Pope L'rban \lll. and called the 
retreat of the incurable?, intimating, that it 
was e(iually impossible to reclaiin the patients, 
vlio sued for reception, from poverty or from 
poetry. To be sincere, were I to send you 
an account of the lives of the Western poets, 
either ancient or modem, I fancy you would 
tliink me em))loyed in collecting materials for 
an history of liuman wretchedness. 

Homer is the first poet and beggar of note 
among flie ancients ; lie was blind, and sung 
his Ijullads about the streets; but it is ob- 
served, tliat his mouth was more fie(|uently 
filled witli verses than with bread. Plautus 
the comic poet was better off; he had two 
trades, he was a poet for liis diversion, and 
heljHjd to tuni a mill, in order to gain alive- 
liliood. Terence was a slave, and lioetliius 
die<l in gaol. 

Among the Italians, Paulo Burghese, 
almost as good a poet as Tasso. knew fourteen 
dirterent trades, and yet died because he could 
get employment in none. Tasso himself, who 
had tlie most amiable character of all poets, 
has often been obliged to borrow a crown 
IVom some friend, in order to pay for a 
month's sulisistence ; lie lias letl us a pretty 



' Tliese characteristics cannot be mUtakca for any 
otlier tlian those of Gottlsmitli lumaell'. 



soiuiet, addressed to his cat, in which he begs 
tiie light of her eyes to write by, l)eiiig too 
poor to afford himself a candle. IJut IJeiiti- 
voglio, poor Heiilivoglio ! chiclly demanils 
our pity. His comedies will last with the 
Italian language; he dissipated a noble for- 
tune in acts of charity and benevolence ; but 
falling into misery in his old age, was refused 
to l)e ailmitteil into an hospital which he 
himself had erected. 

InSpuin, it is said, the great Cerv.intes died 
of liunger ; and it is certain tiiat the famous 
Camoens ended his <lays in an hospital. 

If we turn to France, we shall there find 
even stronger instances of the ingratitude of 
the public. A'augelas, one of the politest 
writers, and one of tlie honcstest men of his 
time, was surnameil the Owl, from his being 
obliged to keep witliin all (hiv. and venture 
out only by night, through fear of his credi- 
tors. His last will is very remarkable; after 
having befpieathed all his worldly substance 
to the discharging his debts, he goes on tlius : 
" But as there still may remain some credi- 
tors unpaid, even after all that I have .shall 
have been disposetl of, iu such a case, it is my 
last will, that my body should lie sold to the 
surgeons lo the best advantage, and tliat the 
purchase should go to the discharging those 
debts wiiich I owe to society ; so tliat, if I 
could not while living, at least when dead, I 
may be useful." 

Cassander was one of the greatest geniuses 
of his time, yet all his merit could not jirocure 
him a bare subsistence. Being by degrees 
driven into a hatred ol'all iiiankiiid from the 
litlle 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, wliat rciison have I 
to expect any from him hereafter?" But be- 
ing answered, that a suspension of Justice was 



172 



CITIZEN OF TIII5 WORLD. 



no argument tliat sliould induce us to doubt 
of its reality ; " Let ine entreat you," con- 
tinued his confessor, " by all that is dear, to 
be reconciled to (iod, your father, your maker, 
and friend." — " No," replied the exasperated 
wretch, " you know the maimer in which he 
left nietolive; and," pointing to the straw on 
whicli he was stretched, " you see the man- 
ner in which he leaves me to die !" 

But the sufferings of the poet in other coun- 
tries is nothing when compared to his distresses 
here : the names of Spenser and Otuay, Sut- 
ler and Dryden, are every day mentioned as a 
national reproach ; some of them lived in a 
state of precarious indigence, and others lite- 
rally 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 mistaken as to the merits of 
every candidate for favour ; but to make 
amends it is never mistaken long. A per- 
formance indeed may be forced for a time 
into reputation, but destitute of real merit, 



it soon sinks ; time, the touchstone of what is 
truly valualde, will soon discover the fraud, 
and an author sliould never arrogate (o lii in- 
self any share of success till liis works have 
been read at least ten years with satisfaction. 
A man of letters at present, whose works 
are valuable, is perfectly sensible of their 
value. P^very polite member of tlie commu- 
nity, by buying what he writes, contributes 
to reward him. The ridicule therefore of 
living in a garret miglit have been wit in the 
last age, but continues such no lon^-er, because 
no longer true. A writer of real merit now 
may easily be rich if his heart be set only on 
fortune: and for those who have no merit, it 
is but fit that such should remain in merited 
obscurity. He may now refuse an invitation 
to dinner, without fearing to incur his 
patron's displeasure or to starve by remaining 
at home. He may now venture to appear in 
company with just such clothes as other men 
generally wear, and talk even to princes witli 
all the conscious superiority of wisdom. 
Though he cannot boast of fortune here, yet 
he can bravely assert the dignity of indepen- 
dence. Adieu,' 



LETTER LXXXV. 



THE TRIFLING SQUABBLES OF STAGE-PLAVERS RIDICULED. 

From the Same. 



I HAVE interested myself so long in all the 
concerns of this people, that I am almost be- 
come an Englislnnan ; I now begin to read 
witli pleasure of their taking towns or gaining 
liattles, and secretly wish disappointment to 
all the enemies of 15ritain. Vet still my re- 
gard to mankind fills me with concern for 
their contentions. I could wish to see the 
disturbances of Europe once more amicably 
adjusted : I am an enemy to nothing in this 
good world but war ; I hate lighting between 
rival states ; I hate it between man and man; 
I hate lighting even between women. 

I already informed you, that while Europe 
was at variance, we were also threatened from 
the stage with an irreconcileable opposition, 
and that our singing women were resolved to 



sing at each other to the end of the season . 
O my friend, those fears were just. They 
are not only determined to sing at eacb other 
to the end of the season, but what is worse, to 
sing the same song, and, w hat is still more in- 
supportable, to make us pay for hearing. 



' Jolinson at one period spoke of " the patron and 
tlie gaol" as the common curse of scholars ; and in 
1758 Goldsmith describes himself as livinf; "in a 
Sairct writini; for bread, and expecting' to be dnnned 
for a milk-score." In the case of the latter this 
might be the result of improvidence ; liut Johnson 
found in the patronaf;c of the many that the literary 
profession was not so i\ricertain an occupation as it 
had been when dependence was placed upon one or 
two patrons. Goldsmiths circumstances at the time 
of his death led .Tohnson to exclaim, " Was e\crpoet 
so trusted before r" 



TKIFLIXG SQUABBLES OF STAGE-PLAYERS RIDICULED. 



173 



If tlioy lie for war, for my part I should 
advise thoni to have a ])uhlic coiii^ress, and 
there fairly .s([uall at eacli other.' What sis^- 
nities soiuidiuu; the trumpet of deliaiice at a 
distance, and calling in the town to light 
their battles. 1 would have them come 
))oldly into one of the most open and fre- 
quented streets, face to face, and tliere try 
there skill in quavering. 

However this may be, resolved I am that 
tliey shall not touch one single piece of silver 
more of mine. Though I have ears for music, 
tlianks to heaven they are not altogether asses' 
ears. What ! Polly and the Pickpocket to- 
night, Polly and the Pickjjocket to-morrow- 
night, and Polly and flie Pickpocket again ; 
I want ])atience. I will hear no more. My 
soul is out of tune, all jarring discord and 
confusion. Rest, rest ye dear three clinking 
shillings in my pocket's bottom ; the music 
you make is more hannonious to my spirit 
than catgut, rosin, or all the nightingales that 
ever chirru])ed in petticoats. 

Jhit what raises my indignation to the 
greatest degree, is that this piping does not 
only pester me on the stage, but is my ]ui- 
iiishment in ])rivate conversation. AVhaf is it 
to me, whether the fine pipe of one or the 
great manner of the other be preferable? 
what care I if one has a better top, or the 
other a nobler bottom ? how am I concerned 
if one sings from the stomach, or the other 
sings with a snap ? Yet paltry as these mat- 
ters are, they make a subject of debate wher- 
ever I go, and this nuisical dis])ute, espe- 
cially among the fair sex, almost always ends 
in a very vnnnnsical altercation. 

Sure the spirit of contention is mixed into 
the very constitution of the people ; divisions 
among the inhaljitants of other countries arise 
oidy from their higher concerns, l)ut subjects 
tlie most contemjitible are made an alVair of 
party here, the spirit is carried even into their 
amusements. The very ladies, whose duty 
it should seem to allay the impetuosity of tlie 
o])posite sex, become themselves party cham- 
pions, engage in the thickest of the fight, 
scold at each other, and sliow their courage, 
even at the expense of tlieir lovers and their 
beauty. 

' See Note to Letter Lxxix. 



There are even a numerous set of poets who 
helj) to keeji up the contention, and write for 
the stage. Mistake me not, I do not mean 
pieces to be acted upon it, l)ut ])anegyrical 
verses on tlie performers, for tliat is the most 
universal method of writing for the stage at 
present. It is the l)usiness of the stage poet, 
therefore, to watch the aj)pearance of every 
new player at his own liouse, and so come 
out next day with a Haunting coj)y of news- 
jiaper verses. In these, nature and tlie actor 
may be said to run races, the player always 
coming oft' victorious; or Nature may mis- 
take him for herself; or old Shakspeare m<ay 
put on his winding-sheet and pay him a 
visit ; or the tuneful Nine may strike up tlieir 
liarps in his jiraisc ; or, should it happen to be 
an actiess, A'enus, the beauteous queen of 
love, and tlie naked Graces, are ever in wait- 
ing : the lady must be herself a goddess bred 
and born ; she must — but you shall have a 
specimen of one of these poems, which may 
convey a more precise idea. 

On seeing Mrs. ** perform in the character of**** . 

To you, 1)rif.'lit fair, tli<> Nino address their lays. 

And tunc my tVcble voice to sing tliy praise. 

Tlie lioartfelt power of every cliarm divine, 

AVlio can withstand tlieir all coramaiidini,' shins ? 

.•^ee how she moves ahmg with every grace, 

■Wliile soul-brought tears steal down each shining 

face. 
She sjieaks, 'tis rapture all and nameless liliss, 
Ve gods ' what transport e'er compar'd to this ! 
As when in I'apliian groves the (lueeii of love, 
With fond complaint addressed the listening Jove; 
'Tw,as joy and endless blisses all around, 
And rocks foi(;ot their hardness at the sound. 
Then tirst, at last, eon .Tove was taken in, 
And felt her charms, without disguise, within. 

And yet think not, my friend, that I have any 
particular animosity against the champions 
who are at the head of tiie present commotion ; 
on tlie contrary, I could lind ))le;isure in their 
music if served uj) at jiroper intervals; if I 
heard it only on proper occasions, and not 
aliout it wherever I go. In fact I could 
patronise them botli ; and as an instance of 
my condescension in tliis jiarticular, they 
may come and give me a song at my lodging 
on any evening when I am at leisure, provided 
they keep a becoming distance, and stand, 
while tlii'V contiinie to entertain me, with 
decent iiiiniility at tlie door. 

You perceive I have not read the seventeen 



174 



CITIZEN OF THE WOULD. 



books of Chinese ceremonies to no purpose. I 
know the proper share of respect due to every 
rank in society. Stage-phiyers. iire-eaters, 
siii;j;iutj-wonien, danciiiL^'-doirs. wihl beasts, 
and wire-walkers, ;is their efforts are exerted 
for our amusement, ought not entirely to be 
despised. The laws of every country should 
allow them to play their tricks at least with 
impunity. They should not lie branded with 
the ignominious appellation of vagabonds :' at 
least, they deserve a rank in society equal to 
the mystery of barliers or undertakers; and 
could my influence extend so far, thej^ should 
be allowed to earn even forty or fifty jiounds 
a-vear if eminent in their profession. 

I am sensible, however, that you will cen- 
sure me for profusion in this respect, bred up 
as you are in the narrow prejudices of eastern 
frugality. You will undoubtedly assert that 
such a stipend is too great for so useless an 
employment. Yet how will your surprise 
increase when told, that though the law holds 
them as vagabonds, many of tliem earn more 
than a thousand a-year. You are amazed. 
There is cause for amazement. A vagabond 
with a thousand a-year is indeed a curiositj' 
in nature : a wonder far surpassing the flying- 
fish, petrified crab, or travelling-lobster. 
However, from my great love to the profession, 
I would willingly have them divested of part 
of their contempt and part of then- finery; the 
law should kindly take them under tlie wing 
of protection, fix them into a corjioration like 



1 Tlie theatres in China arc simply temporary 
erections, and Mr. Davis says, — "The iilayers in ge- 
neral cnme literally under our lei.'al definition of 
vaijabond?, as tliey consist ofstrollini; bands of ten or 
adozen, whose merit and rank in tlieir profession, and 
consequently their pay, dilTcr widely according to 
circumstances. The best are those who come from 
Nanking, and who sometimes receive very consi- 
derable sums for peiformiiig at the entertainments 
given liy rich persons ti> their friends." Players are 
not admissible to the office of mandarin ; and, l)y an 
enactment of the late emperor, this ineligibiUty at- 
taches to their descendants for three generations. 



(hat of the barbers, and abridge their ignominy 
and (lieir pensions. As to tlieir abilities in 
otlier resjiects, I would leave that entirely to 
the public, who are certainly in this case the 
properest judges, whether they desjiise them 
or no. 

Yes, my Fum. I would abridge their pen- 
sions. A theatrical warrior, who conducts 
the battles of the stage, should l)e cooped up 
with the same caution as a liantam-cock that 
is kejit for fighting. When one of those ani- 
mals is taken from its native dunghill, we 
retrench it both in the quantity of its food and 
the number of its seraglio : players should in 
the same manner be fed, not fattened ; they 
should be permitted to get their bread, but 
not to eat the people's bread into the bargain ; 
and, instead of being jiermitted to keep four 
mistresses, in conscience they should be con- 
tented only with two. 

Were stage-plaji^ers thus brought into 
bounds, perhaps we should find their ad- 
mirers less sanguine, and, consequently, less 
ridiculous in jmtronising them. We should 
no longer be sh-uck with the absurdity of 
seeing the same jieople, whose valour makes 
such a figure abroad, aposh'ophislng in the 
praise of a bouncing blockhead, and wrangling 
in the defence of a copper-tailed actress at 
home. 

I shall conclude my letter with tlie sensible 
admonition of M§ the philosopher. " You 
love harmony." says he, '■ and are charmed 
with music. I do not blame you for hearing 
a fine voice when you are in your closet with 
a lovely parterre under j-our eye, or in the 
night-time, while perhaps the moon difluses 
her silver rays. But is a man to carry this 
passion so far as to let a company of come- 
dians, musicians, and singers grow rich upon 
his exliausted fortune? If so, he resembles 
one of those dead bodies, whose brains the 
embalmers have picked out through its ears." 
Adieu. 



RACES OF XEWMARKET KIDICTLED. 



175 







XT' 







[Horse-race, 1760.J 



LETTER LXXXVI. 

THE RACES OF NEWMAKKET RIDICULED DESCRIPTION OF A CART-RACE. 

fyom the Same. 



Of all llie lilaces of amusement wliere gentle- 
men and ladies are entertained, I have not 
been yet to visit Newmarket.' Tliis, I am 
told, is a large field ; where, upon certain 
occasions, three or lour horses are brought 
together; then set a running, and that horse 
w hich runs the fastest wins tlie wager. 

This is reckoned a very polite and fa-sliion- 
able amusement here, much more followed 
by the nobility than partridge-lighting at 

' Soon after tlie accession of James I . to the Kni,'- 
lisli llironc, a limisc was erected .it Newmarket for tlie 
accnmmoi'.alion of himself and the court during' the 
races. Tliis house was rehuillhy Charles II., who wa.s 
fimilof the sportsof the turf. lu 1/53 the race-LTOuiid 
became the jiroi'erty of the Jockey Cluli, and there 
arc now seven nieetina;s held at dillerent periods of the 
ve.ir. Hets to the amount of 50,1)00/. have been 
known to exchange hands in one day ; but hi";!! as 
Newmarket ranks, a writer in the 'Quarterly Ueview' 
(vol. lix.) remarks that it is " but a speck on the 
ocean when compared with the sum total of our 
provincial meetings, of which tli< re are annually 
about li:0 in England, Scotland, and Wales." 



Java, or paper kites in Ma'Ligascar ; several 
of the great here, I am told, understand as 
much of farriery as their grooms ; and a horse 
with any share of merit can never want a 
j)atron among tlie nobility. 

We have a description of this entertain- 
ment almost every day in some of the gazettes ; 
;ls for in.stance ; '• On such a day the Give and 
Take ])late was run for lietween his grace's 
Crab, Ills lordshij)'s Periwinkle, and 'Squire 
Smackem's Slamerkin. All rode their own 
horses. There was the greatest concourse of 
nobility that lias been kno\vn here for several 
seasons. Tlie odds were in favour of Crab in 
tlie lieginning, but Slanierkin, after tlie lirst 
iieat, seemed to have the inatch hollow: 
however, it was soon seen that Periwinkle 
im])roved in wind, wliich at last turned out 
accordingly; Crab was run to a stand-still, 
Slamerkin was knocked up, and Periwinkle 
was brought in with universal aj)j)lause." 
Thus you see Periwinkle received tiiiiversal 



176 



CITIZEN OF THE AVORLD. 



applause, and no doiilit his lonlsliij) came in 
for some sliare of that jnaise which was so 
liberally bestowed ujxiu Periwinkle. Sun of 
China! how ijlorious must the senator aj)pear 
in his caj) and leatlier breeches, his whip 
crossed in his mouth, and thus coming to the 
goal amongst the shouts of grooms, jockeys, 
pimps, stable-bred dukes, and degraded 
generals! 

From the descrijition of tliis princely amuse- 
ment, now transcribed, and from the great 
Aeneration I have for the character of its 
principal promoters, I make no doubt but I 
shall look upon a horse-race with becoming 
reverence, predis])osed as I am by a similar 
amusement, of which I have lately been a 
spectator; for just now I happened to have 
an opportunity of being present at a cart-race. 

Whether this contention between three 
carts of dilVcrent parishes was promoted by a 
subscription among the nobility, or whether 
the grand jury in council assembled had 
gloriously combined to encourage plaustral 
inerit, I cannot take upon me to determine ; 
but certain it is the whole was conducted 
with the utmost regularity and decorum, and 
the company, whicli made a brilliant appear- 
ance, were universally of opinion tliat tlie 
sport was high, the running fine, and tlie 
riders influenced by no bribe. 

It was run on the road from London to a 
village called Brentford, between a turnip- 
cart, adust-cart, and a dung-cart; each of 
llie owners condescending to movnit and bo 
his own driver. The odds at starting were 
Dust against Dung five to four; bvit after 
half a mile's going, the knowing ones found 
themselves all on the wrong side, and it was 
Turnip against the field, brass to silver. 

Soon, however, the contest became more 
doubtful ; Turni]) indeed ke])t the way. but 
it was perceived that Dungliad belter bottom. 
The road re-echoed witli the shouts of the 
spectators; "Dung against Turnip ! Turnip 
against Dung!" was now the universal cry; 
neck and neck ; one rode lighter, but the 
other had more judgment. I could not but 
particularly observe tlie ardour witli which 
tlie fair sex espoused the cause of the different 
liders on this occasion ; one was cliarnied 
witli the unwashed beauties of Dung : another 



was captivated with the patibulary aspect of 
Turni[); while in tlie mean time, unfortunate 
gloomy Dust, who came whijijjing behind, 
was cheered by the encouragement of some, 
and pity of all. 

The contention now continued for some 
time, without a possibility of determining to 
whom victory designed the jirize. The win- 
ning post appeared in view, and he who 
drove the turnip-cart assured himself of 
success; and successful he miglit have been 
had his horse been as ambitious as he ; but 
u])on a]iproaching a turn from the road, 
which led homewards, the horse fairly stood 
still, and refused to move a foot farther. 
The dung-cart had scarcely time to enjoy 
this temporary triumph, when it was pitched 
headlong into a ditch by the way-side, and 
the rider left to Avallow in congenial mud. 
Dust, in the mean time, soon came up, and 
not being far from the post, came in amidst 
the shouts and acclamations of all the spec- 
tators, and greatly caressed by all the quality 
of Brentford. Fortune was kind only to one, 
who ought to have been favourable to all ; 
each had peculiar merit, each laboured liard 
to earn tlie prize, and each richly deserved 
tlie cart he drove. 

I do not know whether this description may 
not have anticipated that whicli I intended 
giving of Newmarket. I am told there is 
little else to be seen even tliere. There may 
be some minute differences in the dress of the 
spectators, but none at all in their under- 
standings; the qualit)' of Brentford are as 
remarkable for politeness and delicacy as 
the breeders of Newmarket. The quality of 
Brentford drive their own carts, and the 
honourable fraternity of Newmarket ride their 
own horses. In short, the matches in one 
place are as rational as those in the other; 
and it is more than probable, that turnips, 
dust, and dung, are all tliat can be found to 
furnish out description in either. 

Forgive me, my friend, but a person like 
me, bred up in a philosophic seclusion, is apt 
to regard, perhaps with too much asperity, 
those occurrences which sink man below his 
station in nature, and diminish the intrinsic 
value of humanitv. Adieu. 



FOLLY OF EMPLOYING THE IIUSSIAXS. 



177 



LETTKU LXXWII. 



THE FOI.I.Y OF TIIE WESTERN PARTS OF EUROl'F, IN KMl'I-OVINU THE liUSSIANS TO FIGHT TIIEIK 

BATTLES. 



From Fum Hoam lu Lieu Chi Allaiuji 



You tell me the people of Europe are wise; 
but where lies tlieir wisdom ? You say they 
are valiant too: yet 1 have some re;isoiis to 
(louht ot" their vaU>ur. They are eiif^'ageil in 
war amoiif^ each other, yet apply to the 
Russians, theirneighlioiirs and ours, Tor a^ssist- 
ance. Cultivating sucli an alliance argues 
at once imprudence and timidity. All sub- 
sidies jxiid tor such an aid is strengthening 
tlie Russians, already too powerful, and 
weakening the employers already exliausteil 
by intestine connnotions.' 

I cannot avoid beholding the Russian 
empire as the natural enemy of tlie more 
western parts of Europe; as an enemy already 
possessed of great strength, and irom the 
nature of the government every day threaten- 
ing to become more powerful. This exten- 
sive empire, which, botli in Europe and Asia, 
occupies almost a third of the whole world, 
was, about two centuries ago, divided into 
separate kingdoms and dukedoms, ami from 
such a division consequently feeble. Since 
the times, however, of Jolui Basilides, it has 
increased in strength and extent ; and those 
untrodden forests, those innumerable savage 
animals, wliich formerly covered the face of 
the country, are now removed, and colonies 
of mankind planted in tlieir room. A king- 
dom tiius enjoying j)eace internally, pos- 
sessed of an unljounded extent of dominion, 
and learning tlie military art at the expense 
of otliers abroad, must every day grow more 
powerful ; and it is probable we shall hear 
Russia, in future times, as formerly, called 
tlie Ollicina (jlentium. 

It was long the wisli of Peter, their great 
monarch, to liave a fort in some of the west- 
cm jiarls of Europe ; many of his schemes 
and treaties were directed to this end, but 
liappily for Europe he failed in them all. 
A fort in the power of this people would be 

* TliU letter showa tliat the Ku»«oiihobia of our 
own political times is nearly u cvutury uld. 



like the possession of a floodgate ; and M-lien- 
ever ambition, interest, or necessity prompted, 
they might then l)e able to deluge the whole 
western world with a l>arbarous inundation. 

Relieve nie, my fiieiid, I cannot sulli- 
ciently contemn the politicians of Europe, 
who thus make this jiowerful people arbi- 
trators in their quarrel. The Russians are 
now at that period between relinement and 
barliarity, which seems most adapted to nu- 
litary achievement, and if once they Iiappen 
to get footing in the western parts of Europe, 
it is not the feeble ellbrts of the sous of elfe- 
minacy and dissent ion that can serve to re- 
move them. The fertile valley and soft 
climate will ever be suflicient inducements 
to draw whole myriads from their native 
deserts, the trackless wild, or snowy mountain. 

History, experience, reason, nature, ex- 
pands tlie book of v.isdom before the eyes of 
mankind, but they will not read. We have 
seen witli terror a winged phalanx of famished 
locusts, each, singly, contemptible, but from 
multitude become liiileous, cover, like clouds, 
the face of day, and threaten the wliole world 
with ruin. We have seen them settling on 
the fertile plains of India and Egypt, de- 
stroying in an instant the labours and the 
hopes of nations ; sparing neidier the fruit of 
tlie earth nor tiie verdure of the lields, aiid 
changing into a frightful desert landscapes of 
once luxuriant beauty. We have seen my- 
riads of ants issuing together from the toulh- 
ern desert, like a torrent whose source v/as 
inexhaustible, succeeding each other without 
end, and renewing their destroyed forces with 
unwearied perseverance, liringing desolation 
wherever tliey came, banishing men and 
animals, and, when destitute of all subsist- 
ence, in lieaps infecting the wilderness which 
they had made ! Like these have been the 
migration* of men. When as yet savage, 
and almost resembling their brute partners 
in the fore';t, subject like tlieni only to the 
instincts of nature, and directed by hunger 

N 



178 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



alone in tlie choice of an abode, liow have we 
seen whole armies starting wild at once from 
their forests and their dens ^ Goths, Huns, 
"\"andals, Saracens, Turks, Tartars, myriads 
of men, animals in human form, without 
country, without name, without laws, out- 



powering hy nimibers all opposition, ravaging 
cities, overturning empires, and, after having 
destroyed whole nations, and sjjread extensive 
desolation, how have we seen tliem sink op- 
pressed by some new enemy, more barbarous 
and even more unknown than they! Adieu. 



LETTER LXXXYIII. 



THE LADIES ADVISED TO GET HLSI5ANDS A STOnv TO THIS PURPOSE. 

From Lien Chi Altangi to Fi/m Hoaw, first president of the Ceremonial Acadony at Pekin, in 

China. 



As the instruction of the fair sex in this 
country is entirely committed to the care of 
foreigners, as their language-masters, music- 
masters, hair-frizzers, and governesses, are all 
from abroad, I had some intentions of open- 
ing a female academy myself, and made no 
doubt, as I was quite a foreigner, of meeting 
a favourable reception. 

In this I intended to instruct the ladies in 
all the conjugal mysteries; wives should be 
taught the art of managing husbands, and 
maids the skill of properly choosing them. I 
would teach a wife how far she might venture 
to be sick without giving disgust ; she 
should be acquainted with the great benefits 
of the cholic in the stomacli. and all the 
thorough-bred insolence of fashion ; maids 
should learn the secret of nicely distinguish- 
ing every competitor ; they siiould be able 
to know the difference between a pedant and 
a scholar, a citizen and a prig, a squire and 
his horse, a beau and his monkey ; but chiefly 
they should be taught the art of managing 
their smiles, from the contemptuous simper 
to the long laborious laugh. 

But I have discontinued the project; for 
what would signify teaching ladies the 
manner of governing or choosing husbands, 
when marriage is at present so much out of 
fashion, that a lady is very well off who can 
get any husband at all? Celibacy now jire- 
vails in every rank of life, the streets are 
crowded with old bachelors, and the house, 
with ladies who have refused good offers, and 
are never likely to receive any for the future. 

The only advice, therefore, I could give 



tlie fair sex, as things stand at present, is to 
get luisbands as fast as they can. There is 
certainlj- nothing in tlie whole creation, not 
even Babylon in ruing, more truly deplorable 
than a lady in the virgin bloom of sixty- 
three, nor a battered unman'ied beau, who 
squibs about from place to place, showing 
liis pigtail wig and his ears. Tlie one ap- 
pears to my imagination in the form of a 
double night-cap or a roll of pomatum, tlie 
other in the shape of an electuary or a box 
of pills. 

I would once more, therefore, advise the 
ladies to get husbands. I would desire them 
not to discard an olil lover without very 
sufficient reasons, nor treat the new with ill- 
nature till they know him false ; let not 
prudes allege the falseness of their sex, co- 
quettes the pleasures of long courtship, or 
parents the necessary preliminaries of penny 
for penny. I have reasons that would silence 
even a casuist in this particular. In the first 
place, therefore, I divide the subject into 
fifteen heads, and then sic argnmentor — but 
not to give you and myself the spleen, be 
contented at present with an Indian tale : 

In a winding of the river Amidar, just 
before it falls into the Caspian Sea, there lies 
an island unfrequented by the inhabitants of 
the continent. In this seclusion, blessed with 
all that wild uncultivated nature could be- 
stow, lived a princess and her two daughters. 
She had been wrecked upon the coast while 
her children as yet were infants, who, of 
consequence, though grown up, were entirely 
unacquainted with man. Yet, unexperienced 



LADIES ADVISED TO GET HUSBANDS. 



179 



as tlie young ladies were to tlio opposite sex, 
botli early iliscovered syniptoiiis, tlie one of 
jiruilery, tiie other of heing a coquette. The 
eldest was ever leariiinij masinis of wisdom 
and discretion from lier niannna, while the 
youngest employed all her hours in gazing at 
her own face in a neighbouring fountain. 

Their usual aniusenient in this solitude 
was fishing : their mother had tauglit them 
all the secrets of the art ; slie sliowed them 
wiiieh were the most likely places to throw 
out the line, what baits were most proper for 
the various seasons, and the best manner to 
draw up the linny prey when they had 
hooked it. In this manner they spent their 
time, easy and innocent, till one day, the 
])rincess being indisposed, desired them to go 
and catch her a sturgeon or a shark for 
su])])er, which she fancied might sit easy on 
her stomach. The daughters obeyed, and 
clapping on a gold lish, the usu;d bait on 
those occasions, went and sat upon one of the 
rocks, letting the gilded hook glide down 
with the stream. 

On the ojiposite shore, farther downi, at 
the mouth of the river, lived a diver for 
pearls, a youth who by long habit in his 
trade was almost grown amphibious; so 
that he could remain whole hours at the 
bottom of the water without ever fetching 
breath. He happened to be at that very 
instant diving when the ladies were lishing 
with the gilded hook. Seeing, therefore, the 
bait, whicli to him had the ai)])earance of 
real gold, he was resolved to seize the prize, 
but both his lianib Ijeing already tilled witli 
pearl oysters, he fouml himself oidiged to 
snap at it with his mouth : the consequence 
is easily imagined ; tlie iiook, before unper- 
ceived, was instantly fastened to the jaw, nor 
could he, with all his ellbrts or his (lounder- 
ing, get free. 

"Sister," cries the youngest princess, "I 
have certainly cauglit a monstrous fish ; I 
never ],erceived aiiytliing struggle so at the 
end of my line before ; come, and licl]) me to 
draw it in." They both now, therefore, as- 
sisted in lishing uj) liie diver on shore; but 
nothing could equal their surprise upon seeing 
him. •• Uless my eyes ;"" cried the jjruile, 
" what have we got here i this is a very odd 
fish to be sure; I never saw anything in my 



life look 80 queer; what eyes, what terrible 
, claws, what a monstrous snout ! I have read 

ol'this monster somewhere before, it certainly 
I must be a ituila/ir/, that eats women ; let us 

throw it back into the sea where we found 

I The diver in the mean time stood upon the 
beach, at the end of the line, with the hook 
in his mouth, using every art tiiat he tiiought 
, could l)est excite pity, and particularly look- 
1 ing extremely tender, which is usual in such 
circumstances. The coquette, therefore, in 
some measure influenced by the innocence of 
his looks, ventured to contradict her com- 
panion, " Upon my word, sister," says she, 
" I see nothing in the animal so very terrible 
as you are pleased to apprelieiid; I think it 
may serve well enough for a change. Always 
sharks, and sturgeons, and lobsters, and craw- 
iish, make me quite sick. I fancy a slice of 
this, nicely grilladed, and dressed up with 
shrimp-sauce, would be very pretty eating. 
I fancy mamma would like a bit with pickles 
above all things in the world ; and if it should 
not sit easy on her stomach, it will be time 
enough to discontinue it wlien found dis- 
agreeable, you know," — "Horridl" cries the 
prude, '•' woulil the girl be jioisoned ! I tell 
you it is a tanlaiig : 1 have read of it in twenty 
places. It is everywhere described as the 
most pernicious animal that ever infested the 
ocean. I am certain it is the most insidious, 
ravenous creature in the world, and is certain 
destruction if taken internally." The 
youngest sister was now, therefore, obliged to 
submit; both assisted in tlrawing flie hook 
witli some violence from tlic diver's jaw ; 
and he, finding himself at liberty, bent his 
breast against the broad wave and disappeared 
in an instant. 

Just at this juncture the mother came down 
1 to the beacli, to know tlie cause of her 
daughters" delay : they told herevery circum- 
stance, descriliingthemonsterthey had caught. 
Tlie old lady was one of the most discreet 
women in tiie world ; she was called the 
black-eyed jjrincess, from two black eyes she 
had received in her youth, being a little 
addicted to boxing in her licpior. " Alas, 
my children," cries she," wliat have you done? 
1 the lish you caught was a man-lish ; one of 
\ the most tame domestic animals in the world 

N -2 



180 



CITIZEN OF THE ^VORLD. 



We could liavc let him run and play about 
tlie garden, and lie would have been twenty 
times more entertaining than our squirrel or 
monkey." " If that be all," says the young 
coquette, " we will fish for him .again. If 
tliat 1)0 all, ril hold three tooth-picks to one 
])Ound of snulV, I catch him whenever I 
please." Accordingly they threw in their 
line once more, but, with all their gilding, 



and j)addling, and assiduity, they could 
never after catch the diver. In this st-ate of 
solitude and disappointment thej' continue, I 
for many years, still fishing, but without 
success ; till at last the genius of the place, 
in pity to their distresses, changed the prude 
into a shrimp, and the coquette into an oyster. 
Adieu. 



LETTER LXXXIX. 



THE FOLLV OF KEMOTE OR USELESS DISQUISITIONS AMONG THE LEARNED. 

From the Same. 



I a:m amused, my dear Fum, with the labours 
of some of the learned here. One shall write 
you a whole folio on the dissection of a cater- 
pillar. Another sliall swell his works with 
the description of the plumage on the wing of 
a butterfly ; a third shall see a little world on 
a peach-leaf, and publish a book to describe 
what his readers might see more clearly in 
two minutes, only by being furnished with 
eyes and a microscope. 

I have frequently compared the understand- 
ings of such men to their own glasses. Their 
lield of vision is too contracted to take in the 
whole of any but minute objects ; they view 
all nature bit by bit ; now the proboscis, now 
the antennjB, now the pinna; of — a flea. Now 
the polypus comes to breakl'ast upon a worm ; 
now it is kept up to see how long it will live 
without eating; now it is turned inside out- 
ward ; and now it sickens and dies. Thus 
they proceed, laborious in trifles, constant in 
experiment, without one single abstraction 
by which alone knowledge may be properly 
said to increase ; till at last their ideas, ever 
emploj-ed upon minute things, contract to the 
size of the diminutive object, and a single 
mite shall fill the whole mind's capacity. 

Yet believe nie, my friend, ridiculous as 
these men are to the world, the)' are set up 
as objects of esteem for each other. They 
have particular places appointed for their 
meetings : in which one shows his cockle- 
shell, and is praised by all the society ; an- 
other produces his powder, makes some ex- 
jieriments that result in nothing, and comes 



oft" with admiration and applause ; a third 
comes out with the important discovery of 
some new process in the skeleton of a mole, 
and is set down as the accurate and sensible ; 
while one, still more fortunate than the rest, 
by pickling, potting, and preserving monsters^ 
rises into unbounded reputation. 

The labours of such men, instead of being 
calculated to amuse the public, are laid out 
only in diverting each other. The world 
becomes very little the better or the wiser, for 
knowing what is the peculiar food of an 
insect, that is itself the food of another, wliich 
in its turn is eaten by a third ; but there are 
men who have studied themselves into a 
habit of investigating and admiring such 
minutiae. To these such subjects are pleasing, 
as there are some who contentedly spend 
whole days in endeavouring to solve enigmas-, 
or disentangle the puzzling-sticks of chil- 
dren. 

Rut of all the learned, tliose who pretend 
to investigate remote antiquity have least to 
plead in their own defence when they carry 
this passion to a faulty excess. They are 
generally found to siqiply by conjecture the 
want of record, and then by perseverance are 
wrought up into a confidence of the truth of 
opinions, which even to themselves at first 
ajjpeared founded oidy in imagination. 

The Europeans have heard much of the 
kingdom of China : its politeness, arts, com- 
merce, laws, and morals arc however but 
very imperfectl}' known among them. They 
have even now in their Indian warehouses 



VSELESS DISQVISITIOXS AMOXG THE LEARNED. 



181 



imnilHTless utensilss, phiiifs, minerals, ami 
machines, of the use of whicli tliey are en- 
tirely ifjnorant, nor can any among them 
even make a probable guess for what they 
might have been ilesigneil. ^'et tlunigh this 
people be so ignorant of the ])resent real state 
of China, tlie philosojihers 1 am describing 
liave enfereil into long, learned, laborious 
ilisj)utes about what Cliina was two tliousand 
years ago. China and European l)appiness 
are but little connected even at this day : but 
European lia])piness and Cliina two thousand 
years ago have certainly no connexion at all. 
However, the learned liave written on and 
pursued the subject through all the labyrinths 
of antiquity ; thougli the early dews and tlie 
tainted gale be jiassed away, though no foot- 
ste]« remain to direct the doubtful cliase, yet 
still they run tbrward, open ujion the uncer- 
tain scent, and though in fact tlicy follow 
nothing, are earnest in the pursuit. In this 
chase, liowever, they all take dilVerent waj-s. 
One, for example, confidently assures us that 
China was jieojiled by a colony from Egypt. 
•Sesostris, he observes, led his army as far as the 
Ganges; tlierefore, if he went so far, he 
might still have gone as far as China, which 
is but about a thousand miles from tlience ; 
therefore he did go to China; therefore 
China was not peopled before he went there; 
t]ierefore it was peopled by him. Besides, 
the Egj-ptians liave pyramids : the Chinese 
have in like manner their porcelain tower; 
the Egyptians used to light up candles upon 
every rejoicing, the Chinese have lanterns 
uj)on tlie same occasion: the Egyptians had 
their great river, so have the Chinese; but 
wliat serves to put the matter jiast a douljt is, 
that tlie ancient kings of China and those of 
Egypt were called by the saiiK! names. The 
Emperor Ki is certainly the same with King 
Atoes: for if we only change A' into A, audi 
into toes, we shall have the name Atoes ; and 
with equal ease Mencs inay be jiroveil to be 
t'lc same witli the Hm]H'ror >'//; thi'iefore the 
Chinese are a colony from Egypt. 



I3ut another of the learned is entirely differ- 
ent from the ];ist; and he will have the 
Cliinese to be a colony planted by Noah just 
after tlie deluge. First, from the vast simili- 
tude tliere is between the name of Fold, the 
founder of the Chinese monarchy, and tliat 
of Noah, the jireservcr of the human race. 
Noah, Fohi, very like each otlier truly; they 
have each but four letters, and only two of 
tlie four liappen to ditl'cr. IJut to strengthen 
the argument, Fohi, as tlie Chinese chronicle 
asserts, liad no father. Noah, it is true, had 
a father, as the European Bible tells us; but 
then, as this father was probably drowned in 
the Hood, it is just the same ;us if ho had no 
fatlier at all ; therefore Noah and Fohi are 
the same. Just after tlie ilood the earth was 
covered witli mud ; if it was iiicrustated with 
mud, it must have been iiicrustated mud; if 
it was iiicrustated, it was clothed with ver- 
dure: this was a fine, unemliarrassed road 
for Noah to lly from his wicked children ; he 
therefore did fly from tlicin, and took a 
journey of two thousand miles for his own 
amusemerit; therefore Noali and Fohi are the 
same. 

Another sect of literati, for they all pass 
among the vulgar for very great scholars, 
assert that the Chinese came neitlicr I'lom the 
colony of Sesostris, nor from Noah, but are 
descended from Magog, I\Ieslicc, and Tubal, 
and tlierefore neither Sesostris, nor Noah, nor 
Fohi are the same."^ 

It is thus, my friend, thai indolence assumes 
the aii-s of wisdom, and while it tosses the cup 
and ball with infantine fiiUy, desires the 
world to look on, and calls the stujjid pastime 
philosophy and learning. Adieu. 



1 Dc GuiKncs' ' Memoir to prove tli.it the Chinese 
•are an Kj;yi)ti;iii colony ' was jmblishcd in 111)9. ^\ii 
account, of this work appcjucd in the ' Gentleman's 
Mapi/.ine ' tor Octolior, 175'.); but l)e(;ui;,'nes' views 
have not i'ouiul advocates, ami (Joldsmith h.is 
treated tlicm « ith as much respect iis they probably 
deserve. 



182 



CITIZEN OF THE WOULD. 



LETTER XC. 

THE ENGLISH SUBJECT TO THE SPLEEN. 

From the Same. 



When the men of this country are once turned 
of thirty, they reguLarly retire every year at 
projier intervals to lie in of the spleen. The 
vulgar, iinl'urnished with the luxurious com- 
forts of the soft cusliion. down bed, and easy 
chair, are obliged, when tlie fit is on tliem. to 
nurse it up by drinking, idleness, and ill- 
humour. In such dispositions, uidiappy is 
the foreigner who happens to cross them; his 
long chin, tarnished coat, or pinched luit, are 
sure to receive no quarter. If they meet no 
foreigner however to figlit with, tliey are in 
such cases generally content with beating 
eacli other. 

The rich, as they have more sensibility, are 
operated upon with greater violence by this 
disorder. D liferent from the poor, instead of 
becoming more insolent, they grow totally 
unfit for opposition. A general here, who 
would have faced a culverin when well, if 
the tit be on him shall hardly find courage 
to snuff a candle. An admiral, wlio couhl 
have opposed a broadside without shrinking, 
shall sit whole days in his chamber, mobbed 
up in double night-caps, shuddering at the 
inh'usive breeze, and distinguishable from 
his wife only by his black beard and heavy 
e3'e-brows. 

In the counti-y tliis disorder mostly attacks 
the fair sex, in town it is most urdavourable to 
the men. A lady, who has pined whole 3'ears 
amidst cooing doves and complaining night- 
ingales in rural retirement, shall resume all 
her vivacity in one night at a city gaming- 
table; her husband, who roared, hunted, 
and got drunk at home, shall grow splenetic 
in town in proportion to liis wife"s good- 
humour. Upon their arrival in London they 
exchange their disorders. In consequence of 
her parties and excursions, he ])uts on the 
furred cap and scarlet stomacher, and per- 
fectly resembles an Indian husband, wlio, 
when his wife is safely delivered, permits her 
to transact business abroad, wliile he under- 
goes all the formality of keeping his bed, and 
receiving all the condolence in lier place. 



But those who reside constantly in town 
owe this disorder mostly to the influence of 
the weather.' It is impossible to describe 
what a variety of hansmutations an east wind 
will produce : it has been known to cliange a 
lady of fashion into a parlour couch, an alder- 
man into a plate of custards, and a dispenser 
of justice into a rat-trap. Even philosophers 
themselves are not exempt from its influence ; 
it has often converted a poet into a coral and 
bells, and a patriot senator into a dumb 
waiter. 

Some days ago I went to visit the man in 
black, and entered his house with that cheer- 
fulness which the certainty of a favourable 
reception always inspires. Upon opening the 
door of his apartment, I found him with the 
most rueful face imaginable, in a morning- 
gown and flannel niglit-cap, earnestly em- 
ployed in learning to Idow the German flute. 
Struck witli the absurdity of a man in the 
decline of life thus blowing away all his con- 
stitution and spirits, even without the consola- 
tion of being musical, I ventured to ask what 
could induce him to attempt learning so diffi- 
cult an instrument so late in life. To tliis he 
made no reply, but groaning, and still hold- 
ing the flute to his lips, continued to gaze at 
me for some moments very angrily, and tlien 
proceeded to practise his gamut as before. 
After having produced a variety of tlie most 
hideous tones in nature ; at last, turning to 



^ In ;i ' Discourse on Wcatlier' in the ' Idler,' it 
is remarked tliat " wlien we find ourselves clieerful 
and f;ood natured, we naturallypay ouracknowlcdi,'- 
ments Ui the powers of sunshine; or if we sink into 
dullness and peevishness, look round the horizon 
for an excuse, and charge our discontent up< n an 
easterly wind or a cloudy day ;" and the su-ilerlhen 
reproaches persons who "live in dependence on the 
weather and the wind for the only blessings which 
nature has put into their power, tranquillity and be- 
nevolence." Sir William Temple, in some lemarks on 
thecharacter of our climate and its sudden changcsof 
weather, exclaims, "How much these affect the 
heads and hearts, especially of the linest tempers, is 
hard to be belicve<l by men whose thonyhts are not 
turned to such speculations." 



THE ENGLISH SUBJECT TO THE SPLEEX. 



183 



me, he demaiuleil, whetlierl did not tliiuk lie 
liad made a surprising jtroj^rcss in two days? 
\'ou see, continues lie, 1 have got the am- 
biisheer already, and as for lingering, my 
master tells me, I shall have that in a few 
lessons more. I was so iiiiich astonished 
with this instance of inverted ambition, that 
I knew not what to reply ; but soon discerned 
the cause of all his absurdities; my friend 
Wiis under a mctamorjihosis by the jiower of 
spleen, and llute-blowing was unluckily 
become his adventitious passion. 

In order, therefore, to banish his anxiety 
imperceptibly by seeming to indulge it, I 
boiran to descant on those gloomy topics by 
which i)hiloso])lurs often get rid of their 
own s])leen by communicating it ; the 
wretchedness of a man in this life, the hap- 
piness of some wrought out of the miseries of 
others, the necessity that wretches should 
ex])ire under punishment that rogues might 
enjoy aflluence in tranquillity ; 1 led him on 
from the inhumanity of the rich to the ingra- 
titude of the beggar; from tlie insincerity of 
refinement to the fierceness of rusticity ; and 
at last had the good fortune to restore him to 
his usual serenity of temper, by ])erniitting 
him to expatiate upon all the modes of human 
slavery. 

•• .Someiiightsago.'saysmyfriend, ''sitting 
alone by my lire, 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 tiiose haters of mankind, of their 
pretended friendship to wretches they meant 
to lx,'traj-, of their sending men out to rob and 
then hanging them. I could not avoid some- 
times interrupting the narrative by crying 
out, !>/ these are men ! As I went on, 1 was 
informed that they had lived by this practice 
several years, and had lieeii ciiriclied by the 
price of blood, and yet, cried I, / liave been 
sent into the world, and am desired to call these 
men nnj hrutliers .' I read that the very man 
who K<1 the condemned wretch to '.lie gallows 



was he who fixlsely swore his life away; and 
yet, continued I. tluit iierjnrer hud J/t.st sitrlt 
a nose, such lips, such hands, and such ei/es as 
Newton. I at last came to the account of 
the wretch that was searched after robliing 
one of tlie thief-takers of lialf-a-crown. Those 
of the confederacy knew that he had got but 
that single half-crown in the world ; after a 
long search, tlierefore. wliich 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, ^las ! 
poor creature, let hint keep all the rest he has 
got, it will do hini service in Newgate, where 
we are sending him. This was an instance of 
complicated guilt and hypocrisy, that I threw 
down tlie 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 per- 
ceiving the ticking of my watch beginning 
to grow noisy and troublesome, I quickly 
placed it out of hearing, and strove to resume 
my serenity. But the watchman soon gave 
me a second alarm. 1 had scarcely reco\ered 
from this, when my peace was assaidted by 
the wiiul at my window ; and when that 
ceased to blow, I listened for death-watches 
in the wainscot. I now found my whole 
system discomposed. I strove to find a re- 
source in philosophy and reason ; but what 
could I oppose, or where direct my blow, 
when I could see no enemy to combat? I 
saw no misery a])]iroaching, nor knew aiiv I 
had tg fear, yet still I was miserable. Morn- 
ing came ; 1 sought for tranquillity in dissi- 
pation, sauntered Irom one place of public 
resort to another, but found myself disagree- 
able to my acquaintance, anil ridiculous to 
others. 1 tried at dillerent times dancing, 
fencing, and riding ; I solved geometrical 
problems, shaped tobacco-stojipers, wrote 
verses, and cut paper. At last 1 placed my 
alVections on music, and find that earnest 
em])loyment, if it cannot cure, at least will 
palliate every anxiety." Adieu. 



184 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



LETTKll XCI. 

THE INI'LUENCE OF CLIMATE AND SOU. IPOX THE TKMi'E.t A\D DliPOSITION'S OF THE ENGLISH. 



From the Same. 



It is no nnpleasiiig coii(oni])lation to coiisidcv 
the iullueuce which soil and climate have 
upon the disposition of the inhabitants, the 
animals, and vegetaljles, ofdilTerent countries. 
That among tlie brute creation is much more 
visible tlian in man, and tliat in vegetables 
more than either. In some places those plants 
which are entirely ]>oisonous at home, lose 
their deleterious quality by lieing carried 
abroad ; tliere are serpents in Macedonia so 
harmless as to be used as playthings for chil- 
dren, and we are told that in some parts of 
Fez there are lions so very timorous as to be 
scared awaj', though coming in herds, by 
the cries of Momen. 

I know of no countrj' where tlie 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 
fierceiiess to tlieir men. But chiefly this 
ferocity a])pears among the vulgar. The 
polite of every country pretty nearly resemble 
each other. ]3ut as in simpling.' it is among 
the uncultivated ])roductions of nature we 
are to examine the characteristic diiVerences 
of climate and soil, so in an estimate of the 
genius of the people we must look ainong the 
sons of unpolished rusticity. The \;ulgar 
English therefore may be easily distinguislied 
from all the rest of the world, by superior 
])ride, imjiatience, and a jieculiar liardiness 
of soul. 

Perhaps no qualities in tlie world are more 
susceptilde of a tine polish tlian tliese ; arti- 
ficial complaisance and easy deference being 
superinduced over these, generally form a 
great cliaracter ; something at once elegant 
and majestic, alfable yet sincere. Such in 
general are tlie better sort ; but they who are 
left in ])rimitive rudeness are llie least dis- 
posed for society with others, or comfort 
internall}', of any people under the sun. 

The poor, indeed, of every country are but 
little prone to treat each other with tender- 

1 CiiHiii"; liorbs. 



ness; their own miseries are too apt to engross 
all their jiity ; and, perhaps, too, they give 
but little commiseration, as they find but 
little from otliers. But in England tlie poor 
treat each other upon every occasion with 
more than savage animosity, and as if they 
were in a state of open war by nature. In 
Cliiiia, if two porters slioulil meet in a narrow 
street, they would lay down their burdens, 
make a tliousand excuses to each other 
for tlie accidental interruption, and beg par- 
don on their knees; if two men of the same 
occupation should meet here, thej' would at 
first begin to scold, and at last to beat each 
other. 1 One would tliink they had miseries 
enough resulting from penury and labour 
not to increase tliem by ill-nature among 
themselves, and subjection to new penalties; 
but such considerations never weigh with 
them. 

But to recompense this strange absurditj-, 
they are in the main generous, brave, and en- 
terprising. Tliey feel tlie slightest injuries 
with a degree of ungoverned impatience, but 
resist the greatest calamities with surprising 
fortitude. Those miseries under which any 
otlier people in the world would sink, they 
have olten showed they are capable of endur- 
ing ; if accidentally cast upon some desolate 
coast, their perseverance is beyond what any 
otlier nation is capable of sustaining; if im- 
prisoned for crimes, their efl'orts to escape are 
greater tlian 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 

' III China even the peasants and artisans and the 
most alijcct of the populace liave fixed forms of 
politeness to one another which tliey scrupulously 
oliserve whiui they meet. The common salutation 
on meeting in the streets has its modes adapted to all 
classes or ranks prescribed by the court of ceremony; 
but to say that two porters would beg pardon of each 
other on their knees is an exaggeration ; and the 
conduct of persons of the same class in England is 
also somewhat o'^crdrawn. 



SOME rniLosoniEKS make artificial misery. 



185 



the uiit.inicable sj)irit of an Eiijjlisliniaii. In 
short, wliat man dares ilo in circmnstances of 
ilanvjcr. an Knglisliman will. His virtues seem 
to sleo]) in the calm, and are calleil out only 
to roniliat the kindred storm. 

Hilt the jjreatest enlosiy of this people is tlie 
penerositji- of their miscreants; tlie tenderness 
in general of their rohhers and iii,'liwaymen. 
IVriia])s no people can ]m)duce instances of 
tlie same kind, wiiere the desperate mix pity 
with injustice : still show that they understand 
a distinction in crimes, and even in acts of 
viiilence have still some tincture of reniainins^ 
virtue. In every other country, robbery and 
murder po almost always toirether : here it 
seldom happens, exce])t upon ill-jiidLied resist- 
ance or pursuit. The banditti of other coun- 
tries are unmerciful to a supreme degree; tlie 
liigliwajTnan and robber here are generous, at 
least in their intercourse among each other. 
Taking, tlierefore, my opinion ol'the English 



from the virtues and vices practised amon^ the 
vulgar, tlu'y at once jirescnt to a stranger all 
their faults, and keep their virtues up only for 
the inquiring eye of a philosopher. 

Foreigners are geiicriilly shocked at their 
insolence upon first coining among them : they 
find tliemselves ridiculed and insulted in 
ever)' street ; they meet with none of th )Sf tri- 
fling civilities, so freipient elseuliere, which 
are instances of mutual good will witliout pre- 
vious acquaintance; tliey travel through the 
coun'ry either too ignorant or too obstinate to 
cultivate a closer acquaintance, meet every 
moment something to excite their disgust, and 
return home to characterise 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 English- 
men for niv friends. 



LETTER XCII. 

THE M.VNNER IN WHICH SOME PHILOSOPHERS M.VKE AnTIilCIAL MISERY. 

From the Same. 



The mind is ever ingenious in making itsov/n 
distress. The wandering beggar, who has 
none to protect, to feed, or to shelter him, fan- 
cies complete liap])iness in labour and a full 
meal ; take him from rags and want, feed, 
clothe, and em])loy him, his wishes now rise 
one step above his station ; he could be happy 
were lie possessed of raiment, food, and ease. 
Suppose his wishes gratified even in these, his 
prospect.s widen as he ascends; he finds him- 
silf in aflluence and tranquillity, indeed, but 
indolence soon breeds anxiety, anil he desires 
n.<t only to be freed from pain, but to be ])os- 
si'ssed of jjleasure; ])leasure is granted him, 
and this but opens his soul to ambition, and 
aniliition will be sure to taint his future hap- 
])iness, either with jealousy, disajipointment, 
or fatigm-. 

Hut of all the arts of distress found out by 
man for his own tonnent, ])erh:ijis that of yWx- 
losuphic 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 tlie conijiassion 
of a philosopher here, that his own globe is 
harassed with wars, jiestilence, or barbarity, he 
shall grieve for the inhabitants of the mo;in if 
the situation of her imaginary mountains hap- 
pen to alter; and dread tlie extinctii>ii of the 
sun if the sjxitson his surface liapjien to in- 
crease : one should imagine that ])hilos.i])hy 
was introduced to make men ha])]>y, iiuthere 
it serves to make humbeds miserable. 

My landlady some days ago brought me 
the diary of a ])hilosoj)her of this desponding 
sort, who had lodged in the apartment bef ire 
me. It contains the historj' of a life which 
seems to be one continued tissue of soitow, 
aj)]irehension, and distress. A single week 
will serve as a sjiecimen of the whole. 

Mandnij. In wiiat a transient decayingsitua- 
tioii are we ))laced, and what various reasons 
does philosophy furnish to make mankind un- 
happy ! A single grain of mustard shall con- 



186 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



tinue to produce its similitudfi through num- 
berless successions : yet what has been i^ranted 
to this little seed has been denied to our 
planetary system ; tlie mustard-seed is still 
unaltered, but the system is gi-owing old, and 
must quickly fall to decay. How terrible 
will it be, when the motions of all the planets 
have at last l)econie so irregular as to need re- 
pairing: wlieii the moon shall fall into fiight- 
ful paroxysms of alteration ; when the earth, 
deviating from its ancient ti-ack, and with 
every other planet forgetting its circular revo- 
lutions, shall become so eccentric that, un- 
confined 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 liis light, or burned up by his 
flames in a moment. Perhaps while I write, 
this dreadful change is begun. Shield me 
from universal ruin ! Yet idiot man laughs, 
sings, and rejoices in the very face of the sun, 
and seems noway touched with his situation. 

Tiiesdaij. Went to bed in great distress, 
awaked, and was comforted, by considering 
that this change was to ]ia])pen at some in- 
definite time, and therefore, like death, the 
thoughts of it might easily be borne. But 
there is a revolution, a fixed determined re- 
volution, which must certaiidy come to pass; 
yet %hich, by good fortune, I shall never 
feel, except in m}- posterity. Tlie 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 sup- 
posed, it is evident that our earth, as Lou- 
ville has clearly proved, has a motion, by 
which the climates must necessarily change 
place, and in the space of about one million of 
years England shall actuallj' travel to the 
Antarctic pole. I shudder at the change ! 
How shall our unhappy grand-children 
endiire the hideous climate! A million of 
years will soon be accomplished ; they aie 
but a moment when compared to eternity ; 
then shall our charming country, as I may 
say, in a moment of time, resemlile the 
hideous wilderness of Nova Zembla. 

Wednesday. To-night, by my calculation, 
the long-predicted comet is to make its first 



appearance. Heavens, what terrors are im- 
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 ! Thought- 
less mortals, go build houses, plant orchards, 
purchase estates, for to-morrow you die. But 
what if the comet should not come'? That 
would be eqtiallj' 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 be in the mean time burnt out, 
he must expire like an exhausted taper. 
What a miserable situation must our earth 
be in without his enlivening ray! Have 
we not seen several neighbouring suns en- 
tirely disappear ? Has not a fixed star near 
the tail of the Ram lately been quite ex- 
tinguished? 

T/u/rsda//. The comet has not yet ap- 
peared; 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 pre- 
dictions; 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 ! 

Fiiduy. 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 unani- 
mously resolved to fix upon one only to be 
the C(nnet expected. That near A'irgo wants 
nothing but a tail to fit it out completely for 
terrestrial admiration. 

Satunhnj. The moon is, I find, at her old 
pranks. Her appvilses, librations, and other 
irregularities indeed amaze me. My daugh- 
ter, too, is this morning gone off with a gre- 
nadier. 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. But the moon, the moon 
gives me real uneasiness ; I 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 de- 
solate and abandoned lover. Adieu. 



FO>'»XESS OF SOME TO ADMIRE rill'. WRITINGS OF LORDS. 



187 



LETTER \CIII. 



THE 1-OXDNESS OF SOME TO AD.MIUE THE WKITINUS OF LORDS. 
From the Same. 



It is suprisin£» what an innuerice titles shall 
have ii])()ii the niiiid. even thotiiz'h these titles 
be (if our own Tn;ikiiig. Like cliildieii we 
ilress lip the ])u])j)ets iu linery. and then stand 
in astonishment at the pliistic wonder. I 
have heen told ot' a rat-catcher here, who 
strolled tor a long time about the villages 
near town, without finding any employment; 
at hisl. however, he thought proper to take 
the title of liis Majesty's rat-ca(cher in ordi- 
nary, and this succeeded beyond his ex])ect- 
ations: when it was known tliat he cauglit 
rats at court, all were ready to give him coun- 
tenance and employment. 

But ol'all the people, they who make i)ooks 
seem most perfectly sensible of the advantage 
of titular dignity. All seem convinced that 
a book written by vulgar iiand.s can neither 
instruct nor imjirove: none but kings, chams, 
and mandarins can write with any proba- 
bility of success. If the titles inform me 
right, not only kings and cointiers, but em- 
perors themselves, in this country periodically 
supply the press. 

A man here who should write, and honestly 
confess that he wrote for bread, might as well 
send liis manuscript to fire the baker's oven; 
not one creature will read him; all nuist be 
court-bred poets, or pretend at least to be 
court-l)red, wlio can exj)ect to please. Should 
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 l)rea<l themselves would combine 
to worry him, perfectly sensible tiiat his 
attemjits only served to take the l)read out 
of tlieir moutiis. 

And yet tiiis silly prepossession tlie more 
amazes me, when I consider tliat almost all 
the excellent productions in wit that have ap- 
peared here were jiurelj' tiie otl'spring of ne- 
cessity ; their Drydens, Butlers, (jtways, and 



Farqnhars, were all writers for bread. Be- 
lieve me, my iVieiul, hunger hixs a most 
amazing faculty for shar])ening the genius ; 
and he wlio with a fidl belly can think like 
a hero, after a course of fasting, shall rise to 
the sul)limity of a demi-god. 

But what will most amaze is, that this very 
set of men, who are now so much depreciated 
by fools, are, however, the very best writers 
they have among them at present. For my 
own part, were 1 to l)uy a hat. I would not 
have it from a stocking-maker, but a hatter; 
were I to buy shoes, I should not go to the 
tailor's for that purpose. It is just so with 
regard to wit : did I, for my life, desire to be 
well served, I would a])ply only to those who 
made it tlieir trade and lived by it. You 
smile at the oddity of my opinion; but, be 
assured, my friend, that wit is in some mea- 
sure mechanical ; and that a man long ha- 
bituated to catch at even its resemljlance, will 
at last be hapjij' enough to jiossess the sub- 
stance : by a long habit of writing he acquires 
a justness of thinking and a mastery of man- 
ner, which holiihiy writers, even with ten 
times his genius, may vainly attempt to 
equal. 

How then are they deceived who expect 
from title, dignity, anil exterior circumstance 
an excellence which is in some measure 
acquired by habit, and sharpened by ne- 
cessity ! j'ou have seen, like me, many lite- 
rarv rejnitations ])romoted by the influence 
of fashion, w liich have scarcely survivetl the 
possessor ; vou have seen the ])oor hardly 
earn the little re])utation they ac<|nired, and 
their merit only acknowledged when they 
were incapable of enjoying the jjleiisures of 
popularity : such, however, is the re))utation 
worth possessing; that which is hardly earned 
is hardiv lost. Adieu. 



188 



CITIZEX OF THE WORLD. 



LETTER XCIV. 

TllK PIIII.O^OPIIEU'S SON IS AGAIN SEl'AKATED FRO.-tl HIS CEAUTIFIL COMPANION. 



From Hitigpo in IHoscow, to 

Where will my disappointment end ? Must 
I still be doomed to accuse the severity of my 
fortune, and sliow my constancy in distress 
rather tlian moderation in prosperity ? I had 
at least liopes of conveying my charming 
companion safe from the reacli of every 
enemy, and of again restoring lier to her 
native soil. But those hopes are now no 
more. 

Upon leaving Terki we took the nearest 
road to tlie dominions of Russia. We passed 
the Ural mountains covered witli eternal 
snow, and traversed the forests of Usa, where 
the prowling bear and slirieking hywna keep 
an undisputed possession. We nextembarked 
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 pro- 
perly equipped and armed in order to oppose 
tlie Wolga pirates, who, we were informed, 
infested this river. Of all mankind these 
pirates are the most terrible. They are com- 
posed of the criminals and outlawed jieasants 
of Russia, who ily to the forests that lie along 
tlie banks of the Wolga ft)r protection. Here 
they join in parties, lead a savage life, and 
have no otVier subsistence but plunder. Being 
deprived of houses, friends, or a fixed habi- 
tation, they become more terrible even than 
the tiger, and as insensible to all the feelings 
of humanity. They neither give quarter to 
those they conquer, nor receive it when over- 
powered themselves. Tlie severity of the 
laws against them serves to increase their bar- 
barity, and seems to make them a neutral 
species of beings between the wildness of the 
lion and the subtlety of the man. When 
taken alive their punishment is hideous. A 
iloafing gibbet is erected, which is let run 
clown witli the stream ; here upon an iron 
hook stuck under their ribs, and ujion which 
the Avliole weight of tlieir liody depends, tliey 
are left to expire in the most terrible agonies ; 
some being thus found to linger several days 
* successively. 

We were but three days" vovage from tlie 



Lien Clii AUaiigi in London. 

confluence of tliis river into the Wolga, when 
we perceived at a distance behind us an 
ai'med bark coming up with tlie as.istniice 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 tliem to be pirates. It is im- 
possible to express our consternation on the 
occasion ; the whole crew instantly came 
together to consult tlie properest means of 
safety. It was, therefore, soon determined to 
send oil" our women and valuable commodities 
in one of our vessels, and the men should 
stay in the other, and boldly oppose the 
enemy. 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 which 
she was disappeared to my longing eyes in 
proportion as that of tlie pirates approached 
us. They soon came up ; l)ut, upon ex- 
amining 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 
attack us. In this manner they continued 
to harass us for tliree days, still endeavouring 
to pass us without figliting. 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; Ijut 
soon a disappointment more terrible, because 
unexpected, succeeded. The liark, in which 
our women and treasure were sent oil', was 
wrecked upon the banks of the Wolga, for 
want of a proper number of hands to manage 
her, and tlie whole crew carried by tlie pea- 
sants vip the country. Of tliis, 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 j'^i'it the situation of my 
mind on this occasion ! Need I describe all 
I feel, when I despair of beholding the beau- 
tiful Zelis more ! Fancy had dressed the 



CONSOLATION TO THE LXFORTUNATE. 



future prospect of my life in the gayest colour- 
ing ; but line unexpected stiok I' of fortune lias 
rol)l)eil it of every charm. Hir dear idea 
mixes witli every scene of pleasure, and with- 
out iier presence to enliven it. the whole be- 



189 
, I 



comes teiious, insipid, nnsup])oital)l 
will confess, now tliat sh ; is loit. I w ill con- 
fess I loveil her; nor is it in the pawcr of time 
or of reason to erase her image from my heart. 
Adieu. 



LETTER XCV. 

CONSOLATION TO THE UNFORTUNATE. 

From Lien Chi Altaiigi to Ilingijo, at Moscow.^ 



Your misfortunes are mine ; but as every 
period of life is marked with its own. you 
must learn to endure them. Disappointeil 
lovemakesthe misery of youtli ; disappointed 
ambition that of manhood; and successful 
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 alTections; to ambition the happiness 
of indolence and ol)scurity ; anil 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 supportalile. 

Men complain of not tinding a place of 
repose. They are in the wrong ; they have it 
for seeking. Wliat they should iniU'ed com- 
plain of is, that the heart is an enemy to that 
very repo^e tliey seek. To tliemselves alone 
shonhl they impute their discontent. They 
seek within the short sjian of life to satisfy a 
thousand desires, each of which alone is in- 
satiable. One month passes and another comes 
on ; tlie year ends and then begins ; but man 
\6 still uncliangetl in folly, still blindly con- 
tinuing in jHX'judice. To the wise man every 
climate and every soil is pleasing; to him a 
jiarterre of llowers is the famous valley of 
gold; to him a little ijrook tltefuiintaiu nf the 
yoiiiKj peach-trees •''■ to such a man the melody 
of iiirds is more ravishing llian the harmony 
of a full concert ; and the tincture of tiie clowl 
])referable to the touch of the finest pencil. 

The life of a man is a journey, a journey 
lliat must be travelled, however bad the roads 

* Tliis letter is a ihajisoily from lliu Maxims of 
the liliilosdjiluT Mc. See Lett, (,'iuicusos et Kdi- 
limites. See also l)ii UiiU'.i-, vol. ii. p. 98. (A.) • 
* Tliis i>assago the editor does not understand. (.\._) 



or the accommodation. If in the beginning 
it is found dangerous, narrow, and diflicult, it 
must either grow better in the end, or we shall 
by custom learn to bear its inequality. 

Ihit though I see you incapable of pene- 
trating into grand jjrinciples, 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 find some uneasiness. 1 
look liehind me, and see numiiers on foot, 
stooping under heavy burdens ; let me leani 
to pity their estate, and thank heaven for my 
own. 

Shingfu, when under misfortinies, would 
in the beginning weep like a child; but he 
.soon recovered his former tranquillity. After 
indulging grief for a few days, he would be- 
come, as usual, the most merry old man in all 
the province of Shansi. About the time that 
his wife died, his possessions were all con- 
sumed by tire, and his only son sold into cap- 
tivity ; .Shingfu grieved for one day, and the 
next went to dance at a mandarin's door for 
his diinier. The company were surprised to 
see the ohl man so merry when snllering sucii 
great hjsics, and the mandarin himself 
coming out, asked him how he, who had 
grieved .'^o much, and given way to the cala- 
mity the day before, could now be so cheer- 
ful. •• Von ask me one question, " cries tl'.e 
old man, '• let mc 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?" — '• .-V hard thing to be 
sure," rej)lied the mandarin. '• There you 
are wrong, ' returned .Shinijfu ; '• I am now 
fourscore years old; an<l if you look in my 
mouth you will llnd that I have lost all my 
ttth, but not a bit of my tongue.' 



190 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



LETTER XCVI. 

THE CONDOLENCE AND CONGRATULATION IPON THE DEATH OF THE LATE KING 

ENGLISH MOURNING DESCRIBED. 



RIDICULED 



From Lien Chi AUungi to Fum Hoam. first president of the Ceremonial Academy 

at Fekin.in China. 



The manner of grieving for our dejiarteil 
friends in Cliiiia is very difl'erent from tliat of 
Europe. The mourning colour of Europe is 
black ; that of China white. When a ])arent 
or a 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, per- 
haps, a favourite liousekeejjer or a favourite 
cat. 

On the contrary, with us in Cliina it is a 
very serious affair. The piety with which I 
have seen you behave on one of these occa- 
sions should never be forgotten. I remember 
it w^as upon the deatli of thy grandmother's 
maiden sister. The coffin was exposed in 
tlie 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 comjjliments of condolence, 
and to salute the deceased after the manner of 
our comih-y. We had scarcely presented 
our wax- candles and j)erfumes, and given the 
howl of de^jarture, when, crawling on his 
belly from under a curtain, out came the 
reverend Fum Hoam liimself, in all tlie dismal 
solemnity of distress, Your looks were set 
for sorrow ; your clothing consisted of an 
hempen bag tied round the neck with a string. 
For two long months did this mourning con- 
tinue. By night you lay stretched on a single 
mat, and sat on the stool of discontent by 
day. Pious man! who could thus set an 
example of sorrow and decorum to our coun- 
try. Pious country! where, if we do not 
grieve at the departure of our friends for their 
sakes, at least we are taught to regret them for 
our own.' 

1 Mr. Uavis frfves a long accouut of tlie funeral 
foremonies of China: — "When a parent or elder 
relation among the Chinese dies, the event is form- 
ally announced to all the branches of the family ; 



All is very dilVerent here; amazement all ! 
What sort of a people am I got amongst! 
Fum, thou son of Fo, what sort of a people am 
I got amongst! No crawling round the coffin: 
no dressuig up in hempen bags; no lying on 
mats, or sitting on stools. Gentlemen here 
shall put on lirst mourning witli as sprightl}- 
an air as if preparing for a birth-night; and 
widows sliall actually dress for another hus- 
band in their weeds for tlie former. The best 
jest of all is, that our merry mourners clap 
bits of muslin on their sleeves, and these are 
called iceepers. Weeping muslin ; alas, alas, 
very sorrowful truly I Tliese weepers then, 
it seems, are to bear tlie whole burthen of the 
distress. 

But I have had the strongest instance of 
this contrast; this tragi-comical behaviour in 
distress upon a recent occasion. Their king, 
whose depai'ture though sudtlen was not un- 
expected, died after a reign of many years.- 
His age and uncertain state of health served in 
some measure to diminish the sorrow of his 
subjects : and their expectations from his suc- 
cessor seemed to balance their minds between 
uneasiness and satisfaction. But how ought 
they to have behaved on such an occasion? 
Surely they ouglit rather to have endeavoured 
to testify their gratitude to their deceased 
friend tlian to proclaim their hopes of the 
future. Surely even the successor must sup- 
pose tlieir love to wear tlie face of adulation, 
which so quicklj' changed the object. How- 
ever, the veiy same day on which the old 
king died, they made rejoicing for the new. 

each side of the doors is distia^iished by labels in 
white, which is the mournin^j colour. The lineal 
descendants of the deceased, clothed in coarse « liite 
clotli, with bandages of the same round their heads, 
sit weeping round the corpse on the gi-ound, the 
women keeping up a dismal howl after the manner 
of the Irish." There are a number of other cere- 
monies, and the funeral procession does not take 
lilace until the expuation of twenty-one days. 

- George II. died suddenly on the morning of the 
.?5th October, 1760, in the tliirty-fourth year of liis 
reign, aged seventy-seven. 



ENGLISH MOURNING DESCRIBED. 



191 



For my part, I have no conception of this 
new manner of mourning anil rejoicing in a 
lireath : of lieing merry and sad ; of mixing a 
funeral procession with a jig and a honlire. 
At least it would have l)een just that they 
who llattered the king while living for virtues 
whicli he had not, should lament him dead 
for those he really had. 

In this universal cause for national dis- 
tress, as I had no interest myself, so it is but 
natural to suppose 1 felt no real allliction. In 
uU tlie losses of our frienils. says an Huropean 
philosopher, we tirst consiiler how much our 
own welfare is afl'ected by their departure, 
and moderate our real grief just in the same 
proportion. Now, as I had neitlier received 
nor expected to receive favours from kings or 
their tlatterers ; as I had no acquaintance in 
particular witli their late monarch ; as 1 
knew that the place of a king is soon sup- 
plied: and as tiie Chinese jjroverb has it, 
that though the world may sometimes want 
cobblers to mend their shoes, there is no 
danger of its wanting emperors to rule their 
kingdoms ; from sucli considerations I could 
bear the loss of a king with the most plii- 
losopliic resignation. However, I thought it 
my duty at least to appear sorrowful ; to put 
on a melancholy aspect, or to set my face by 
that of the people. 

The first company I came amongst after 
the' news became general, was a set of jolly 
companions who were drinking jjrosperity to 
the ensuing reign. I entered the room with 
looks of despair, and even expected applause 
ibr the sui)erlative misery of my countenance. 
Instead of that, I was universally condemned 
by the company for a grimacing son of a 
whore, and desired to take away my peni- 
tential phiz to some other quarter. I now 
corrected my former mistake, and witli the 
most sprightly air imaginable entered a com- 
pany where they were talking over the cere- 



monies of the approaching funeral. Here 
I sat for some -time witii an air of pert 
vivacity; when one of the chief mourners 
immediately observing my good humour, 
desired me, if I jdeased, to go and grin some- 
wliere else ; they wanted no disaftected 
scoundrels there. Leaving this company, 
therefore, I was resolved to assume a look 
perfectly neutral : and have ever since been 
studying the fashionable air; something be- 
tween jest and earnest; a com])letc virginity 
of face, uncontaminated with the smallest 
sym])ti)m of meaning. 

But th >ugli grief be a very slight affair 
here, the mjurning. my friend, is a very im- 
portant concern. When an emj)eror dies in 
China, the whole expense of the solemnities 
is defrayed from the royal cofl'ers.' When the 
great die liere, mandarins are ready enough 
to order mourning ; but I do not see they are 
so ready to pi)' for it. If they send me down 
from court the grey undress frock, or the 
black coat without p:)cket-lioles, I am willing 
enougli to comply with their commands, and 
wear b ith ; bvit, by the head of Confucius! 
to be obliged to wear black, and buy it into 
the bargain, is more than my tranquillity of 
tem])er can liear. What, order me to wear 
mourning before they know whether I can 
buy it or no ! Fum, thou son of Fo, what 
sort of a people am I amongst ; where being 
out of black is a certain symptom of poverty; 
where those who have miserable faces cannot 
have miurning, and tliose who have mourn- 
ing, will not wear a miserable face ? 



' On the death of the emiiernr th(! same obser- 
viiuces are Ufiitl)y his liiiiuliviis ol' iiiilli >iis ol' sub- 
jects :is 111 tin- death ni the parent of each iudivi dual: 
the wh')le empire rem:uiii unshaven lor the space of 
one Imndred days, while the period of mjurniui; 
aj)p;irel la,-.ts longer, and aU ollicers of government 
lake the l)all and crimson silk from their caps. 
Davis, vol. i. p. 'Ml. 



19.3 



CITIZEN OF THE VvORLD. 



LETTER XCYII. 

ALMOST EVERV SUBJECT OF LITEKATIUE ALUEADV EXIIALSTED. 
Front Ihe Sa/iie. 



It is usual for the booksellers here, when a 
book has given universal pleasure upon one 
subject, to bring out several more upon the 
same plan ; which are sure to have purchasers 
and readers, from that desire which all men 
have to view a pleasing object on every side. 
The first perlbrmance serves rather to awaken 
than satisfy attention; and when that is once 
moved, the slightest elVort serves to continue 
its progression : the merit of tlie lirst dilfuscs 
a light sufficient to illuminate tlie succeeding 
efforts ; and no other subject can be relished 
till that is exhausted. A stupid work coming 
thus immediately iu the train of an ap- 
plauded performance, weans the mind from 
the object of its pleasure; and resembles die 
sponge thrust into the mouth of a discharged 
culverin in order to adapt it for a new ex- 
plosion. 

This manner, however, of drawing oif a 
subject, or a peculiar mode of writing to the 
dregs, eflectually precludes a revival of that 
subject or manner for some time for the 
future ; the sated reader turns from it with 
a kind of literary nausea; and though the 
titles of books are tlicpart of them most read, 
j-et he lias scarcely perseverance enougli to 
wade through tlie title-page. 

Of this number I own myself one ; I am 
now grown callous to several subjects, and 
dilVerent kinds of composition : whether such 
originally pleased I will not take upon me 
to determine ; but at present I spurn a new 
book merely upon seeing its name in an 
advertisement ; nor have the smallest cu- 
riosity to look beyond the first leaf!, even 
though in the second the author promises his 
own face neatly engraved on copper. 

I am become a perfect epicure in reading ; 
plain beef or solid mutton will never do. I 
am for a Chinese dish of bears claws and 
bird"s nests. I am for sauce strong with 
assafostida,^ or fuming with garlic. For this 



' AssafiCtida is a jiromoter of digesliou, for which 
purpose the llomaiis used it along with Iheu' food : 
in flavour it resembles carlic. 



reason there are a hmidred very wise, learned, 
virtuous, well-inteniled jiroductions tliat have 
no charms for me. Thus, for the soul of me, 
I could never find courage nor grace enougli 
to wade above two pages deep into ' Tlioughts 
upon God and Nature,' or * Thoughts upo7i 
Providence, ' or ' Thoughts upon Free 
Grace,' or indeed into thoughts upon any- 
tiling at all. I can no longer meditate with 
meditations for every day in tlie year ; essays 
upon divers subjects cannot allure me, though 
never so interesting; and as for funeral ser- 
mons,' or_ even thanksgiving sermons, I can 
neither weep with the one nor rejoice with 
the other. 

But it is chiefly in gentle poetry where I 
seldom look farther than the title. The 
truth is, I take up books to be told something 
new ; but here, as it is now managed, the 
reader is told nothing. He opens the book, 
and there fintls very good words trulj', and 
much exactness of rhyme, but no information. 
A parcel of gaudy images pass on before his 
imagination like the figures in a dream ; but 
curiosity, induction, reason, and the whole 
train of affections are fast asleep. Ihejticiaida 
et idoneavitce ; those sallies which mend the 
heart while they amuse the fancy are quite 
forgotten ; so that a reader who would take 
up some modern applauded iierfurmances of 
this kind, must, iu order to be pleased, first 
leave his good sense behind him, take for his 
recompense and guide bloated and compound 
epithet, and dwell on paintings, just, indeed, 
because laboured with minute exactness. 

If we examine, however, our internal sen- 
sations, we shall find ourselves but little 
pleased with such laboured vanities : we 
shall find tliat our ajiplause rather proceeds 
from a kind of contagion caught up from 
others, and which we contribute to diffuse, 
than from what we privately feel. There 
are some subjects of which almost all (he 
world perceive the futility ; yet all combine 
in imposing upon each other as worthy of 
praise. But chiefly this imposition obtains 
in literature, where men publicly contemn, 



ALMOST EVERY SUBJECT OF LITERATURE EXHAUSTED. 



103 



wliat tliey relish with rapture in ])rivate, and 
approve abroad what li;is given them disgust 
at home. The trutli is, we deliver those 
criticisms in jmlilic whicli are supposed to 
be best calculated not to do justice to tlie 
author. I)ut to impress others with an opinion 
ol" our disceriimeut. 

But let works of this kind, which have 
already come off witli such applause, enjoy 
it all. It is neitlier my wish to diminish, as 
J was never considerable enough to add, to 
their lame. But tor the future, I fear there 
are many poems tor which I shall find spirits 
to read but tlie title. In th,' first place, all 
odes ujjon winter, or summer, or autumn; 
in short, all odes, ej)odes, and monodies 
whatsoever, shall hereafter be deemed too 
polite, classical, obscure, and refined to be 
read, and entirely above human compre- 
hension. Pastorals are pretty enough — for 
those that like them — l)Ut to me Thyrsis is 
one of the most insipid fellows I ever con- 
versed with; and as for Corydon, I do not 
choose his company. Elegies and epistles 
are very fine to those to whom they are ad- 
dressed ; and as for epic poems, I am gene- 



rally able to discover the whole plan in read- 
ing tlie two first pages. 

Trag(>dics, liowever, as they are now m:ide, 
are good instructive moral sermons en )ngh ; 
and it woidd b;? a faidt not to be pleased 
witli good things. There I learn several 
great truths; as, that it is impossible to see 
into the ways of futurity; that punishment 
always attends the villain; that love is the 
fontl soother of the human breast; that we 
should not resist heaven's will, for in resisting 
heaven's will heaven's will is resisted; with 
several other sentiments equally new, deli- 
cate, and striking. Kvcry new tragedy, 
therefore, I shall go to see; for reflections of 
this nature make a tolerable harmony, when 
mised up with a proper quantity of drum, 
trumpet, thumler, lightning, or the scene- 
shifter's whistle.' Adieu. 



' The want of life and vii;our in the ' odes, epodes, 
and monodies;' the 'pastorals,' ' eisays,' ' epistles,' 
&c., which c mstitutc'd tl\e fashianalile literature of 
the day, .justly entitled theiu to cont-mpt. Mr. 
D'Israeli. in his remarks on ' Literary Fashions,' 
observes that " Kvcry a^'e of m')di'rii literature mii^ht, 
perhaps, admit of anew classitication by dividing it 
intj its periods aijailiiunable literature.' ' 



191 



CITIZEN OF THE EVOKED. 




TO^'Pt-. /0m% ..^^mi^ 







[Clu Courts, Westminster Hall. From a Print, dated I'lTO.] 



From Li 



LETT E R XCVIII. 

A DESCRIPTION OF THE COURTS OF JUSTICE IN WESTMINSTER IIAi.L. 

\ Chi Altaiuji to Vitm Hoam. frst president of the Ceremotiial Aeademij at 

Peliiii, in China. 



~l HAD some iiiteiitioiis lately of going to visit 
Bedlam, the place where tliose that go mad 
nre coidined. I went to wait upon tlie man in 
black to be my conductor; but I found liim 
preparing to go to A\'estminster-hall, where 
the English liold their courts of justice. It 
gave me some surprise to find my friend 
engaged in a law-suit, but more so, when he 
informed me that it liad been depending 
■several years. "How is it possible,'' cried 
I, " for a man wlio knows the world to go 
to law ? I am well acquainted with tlie 
courts of justice in Cliina: tliey resemble 
rat-traps every one of them ; notliing more 
easy than to get in, but to get out again is 
attended with some diflliculty, and more ciin- 
ning than rats are generally found to pos- 



sess; 



I "1 



1 Tlie Chinese have a clear, concise, and wcll- 
ilefined code, in remarkable conformity Mith the 
habits and manners of the i>eople. This code is 
arranged in a very lucid manner, and sold nf a cheap 
rate, so that none may be i.^'noraut of the law s. 'Che 
sixth division of the code reirulates the admi'dstra- 
tiou of justice, and provides sal'e.;,'uards ayainbt unjust 
imprisonment and delays of je.stice. 



" Faith," replied my friend, '■ I should 
not have gone to law, but tliat I was assured 
of success before I began; things were pre- 
sented to me in so allm-ing a liglit. tliat I 
tlioiight by barely declaring myself a can- 
didate for the prize, I liad nothing more to 
do than to enjoy the fruits of the victory. 
Thus have I been upon the eve of an ima- 
ginary triumph every term these ten years ; 
have travelled forward willi victory ever in 
my view, but ever out of reacli ; however, 
at jiresent I fiuicy we liave liaiupered our an- 
tai;onist in sucli a maimer, tliat without some 
unforeseen demur, we shall tliis day lay him 
fairly on his back.'' 

" If things be so situated," said I, " I do 
not care if I attend you to the courts, and 
]iaiiake in the pleasure of your success. But 
jirithee,'' continued I, as we set forward, 
" what reasons liave you to think an afl'air at 
last concluded whicli has given so many 
former disappointments'?" — " My Iav,'yer 
tells me," returned he, " that I have Salkeld 
and A'entris strong in my favour, and that 
there are no less than fifteen cases in iioint." — 
" I understand," said I, " tliose are two of 



DESCRIPTION or THE COUliTS IN "WESTMIXSTEIl HALL. 



195 



your jii(l:;cs wliii liave already declared their 
oiiiiiioiK. " — •■ Pardon ino."' rejilied my iVieiiil, 
'• Salkclil ami \'eiifri;j are lawyers wlio .some 
hmitlred years ajfo gave their opinions on 
cases similar to mine; these opinions wiiich 
make for me my lawyer is to cite, and those 
opinions which look another way are cited 
hy tlie lawyer employed l)y my antajjonisf : 
as I observed, I have Salkeld and A'entris 
for me, he h;is Coke and Hale lor him, and 
he that lias most opinions is most likely to 
carry his cause." — " But where is the ne- 
cessity," cried I, '" of prolonging a suit by 
citing the opinions and re])orts of others, 
since the same good sense w hich determined 
lawyers in former ages may serve to guide 
your judges at this day ? They at tliat time 
gave their opinions only from the light of 
reason ; your judges have the same light at 
present to direct them, let me even add a 
greater, as in former ages there were many 
jirejudices from which the present is hajipily 
free. If arguing from authorities be exploded 
from every other branch of learning, wliy 
should it be particularly adhered to in this? 
I plainly foresee how such a method of in- 
vestigation must eml)arras3 every suit, and 
even per])lex the student; ceremonies will 
be nudfiplied, formalities must increase, and 
more time will thus be si)ent in learning the 
arts of litigation than in the discovery of 
right." 

" I see," cries my friend, " that you are 
for a sjieedy administration of justice; but 
all the World will grant tliat the more time 
there is taken up in considering any siibject 
the Ijetter it will be understood. Besides, it 
id tlie boast of an Knglislnnan, that liis 
])r<ijKTly is secure, and all the world will 
grant tliat a deliberate administration of jus- 
tice is the best way to secure his praperli/. 
Why have we so many lawyers but to secure 
our -prupertij ? Why so many formalities, 
l»ut to sen/re our prn/ierli/ ? Not less than one 
liunilred thousand families live in opulence, 
elegance, and ea^e, merely by seruriiit/ our 
j^ro/ierti/." 

'• To embarrass justice," returned I, "by a 
multiplicity of law, or to haxard it by a con- 
fidence in our judges, are, 1 grant, the op- 



posite rocks on wliich legislative wisdom has 
ever split; in one case the client resembles 
that emjieror who is said to have been sulVo- 
cated with the bed clothes, which were oidy 
designed to keep liim warm : in the other to 
that town w liich let the enemy take j)ussession 
of its walls in order to show the world how 
little they depended upon aught but courage 
for salety : — But, bless me ! w hat numbers do 
I see here — all in black — how is it possible 
that half this nuiltitude findemployment ? ' — 
'• Nothing so easily conceived," returned my 
companion, '■ they live by watching each 
other. For instance, the catchpole watches 
the man in debt ; the attorney watches the 
catchpole ; the counsellor watches the at- 
torney ; the solicitor tlie counsellor : and all 
lind suflicient employment." — " I conceive 
you," interrupted i, '' they watch each other ; 
but it is the client that pays them all for 
watching: it puts me in mind of a Ciiinese 
fable, which is intituled, ' Five animals at a 
meal." 

'■ A grassliop])er, filled with dew, was mer- 
rily singing under a shade ; a whangam, that 
cats grasshojjpers, had marked it for its prey, 
and was just stretching forth to devour it ; a 
serpent that had for a long lime fed only on 
whangams, was coiled up to fasten on the 
whangam; a yellow bird was just ujion the 
wing to dart upon the serpent ; a hawk had 
just stoojied from above to seize the yellow 
bird ; all were intent upon their prey, and 
unmindful of their danger : so the whangam 
ate the grasshopper, the serpent ate the whan- 
gam, the yellow bird the serpent, and the 
hawk the yellow bird: when sousing from on 
high, a vulture gobbled uj) the hawk, grass- 
ho])per, whangam, and all in a moment." 

I had scarcely liiiisheil my fable, wiien the 
lawyer came to inform my friend that his 
cause was jmt olV till another term, that 
money was wanted to retain, and that all the 
world was of opinion that tlie very next hear- 
ing would bring him oil' victorious. '"If so, 
then," cries my friend, '• I believe it will be 
my wi.sest way to continue the cause for 
another leriii, and, in the mean time, my 
friend here and 1 will go and see Bedlam." 
Adieu. 



o2 



196 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



LETTER XCIX." 

A VISIT FliOM THE I.ITTI.E BEAU. THE INDULGENCE WITH WHICH THE FAIR SEX ARE TREATED 

IN SEVERAL FARTS OF ASIA. 

From the Same. 



I LATELY rcceiveil a visit from the little beau, 
win) I found li;i(l assumpd a new How of spi- 
rits with a new suit of clothes. Our discourse 
happened to turn upon the ditferent treatment 
of the fair sex here and in Asia, with the in- 
fluence of beauty in refining our manners 
and improving our conversation. 

I soon perceived he was strongly prejudiced 
in favour of the Asiatic method of treating 
the sex, and that it was impossil>le to per- 
suade him, but that a man was happier wh ) 
had four wives at his command, than he who 
had only one. " It is true," cries he, " j'our 
men of fashion in the East are slaves, and 
under some terrors of having their throats 
squeezed by a bow-string ; but what then ? 
they can find ample consolation in a seraglio! 
the)^ make indeed an indifferent figure in 
conversation abroad, but then they have a 
seraglio to console them at home. I am told 
they have no balls, drums, nor operas, but 
tlien they have got a seraglio; tliey may be 
deprived of wine and French cookery, but 
they have a seraglio ; a seraglio, a seraglio, 
my dear creature, wipes o& every inconve- 
nience in the world. 

" Besides, I am told, your Asiatic beauties 
are the most convenient women alive, for 
they have no souls; positively there is nothing 
in nature I should like so much as ladies 
without souls ; soul here is the utter ruin of 
half the sex. A girl of eighteen .shall have 
soul enough to spend a hundred pounds in 
the turning of a trump. Her mother shall 
have soul enough to ride a sweep-stake match 
at a horse-race ; her maiden, am it shall have 
soul enough to purchase the furniture of a 
whole toy-shop, and others shall have soul 
enough to behave as if they had no souls at 
all.-' 

'' With respect to the soul," interrupted I, 
" the Asiatics are much kinder to the fair sex 
than you imagine : instead of one soul, Fohi, 
the idol of China, gives every woman three, 
the Bramins give them fifteen : and even 



Mahomet himself nowhere excludes the sex 
from Paradise. Abulfeda' reports, that an 
old woman one day importuning him to 
know what she ought to do in order to gain 
Paradise; ' BIy good lady,' answered the 
prophet, ' old women never get there.' — 
'What, never get to Paradise?' returned 
the n atron, in a fury. ' Never," says he, 
' for they always grow young by the way.' 
No sir,"' continued I, " the men of Asia 
behave with more deference to the sex than 
you seem to imagine. As you of Europe say 
grace upon sitting down to dinner, so it is 
the custom in China to say grace when a 
man goes to bed to his wife." — " And may I 
die," retimied my com])anion, " but a very 
pretty ceremony ; for seriously, sir, I see no 
reason why a man should not be as grateful 
in one situation as in the other. Upon 
honour, I always find myself more disposed 
to gratitude on the couch of a fine woman, 
than upon sitting down to a sirloin of beef." 

" Anotlier ceremony,"' saiil I, resuming 
the conversation, '" in favour of tlie .sex 
amongst us, is the bride"s being allowed, 
after marriage, her three days of freedom. 
During this interval a thousand extrava- 
gancies are practised by either sex. The 
lady is now placed upon the nuptial bed, 
and numberless monkey-tricks are played 
round to divert her. One gentleman smells 
her perfumed handkerchief, another attempts 
to untie her garter, a tliird pulls off her shoe 
to play hunt the slipper, another pretends 
to be an idiot, and endeavours to raise a laugh 
by grimacing ; in the mean time, the glass 
goes briskly about, till ladies, gentlemen, 
wife, husband, and all are mixed together in 
one inundation of arrack p)unch.""2 



1 .\bulfeda, a geographer and historian, bom at 

Diimascus in 1273. 

2 On the eveniui; of the wedding-day, when the 
" three stars shine on the gate," the ceremony of 
fetching licime the l)ride takes place, accompauiod 
by a cavalcade with lanterns, music, &c. Oa 



A LIFE OF IXDEPENDEXCE PKAISED. 



197 



'•Strike me duuili, iloaf, ainl blind, ' 
cried my corajiauioii. "but that's very pretty ; 
tliere is some sense in your Cliinese ladies" 
cimtlescensions ; but among us, you shall 
scarcely linil one of the whole sex that shall 
hold her ijood-humour lor tluee days toge- 
tlier. No later than yesterday I hajUK'ned 
to say some civil things to a citizen's wile of 
my acquaintance, not because I U)ved, but 
because I had charity ; and what do you 
think was the tender creature's reply ? Only 
that she detested my pig-tail wig, high- 
heeled shoes, and sallow complexion. That 
is all. Nothing morel Ves, by the lieavens, 
though she was more ugly than an unpainted 
actress, I found her more insolent than a 
thorougli-bred woman of quality. " 

He was proceeding in this wild manner, 
when his invective was interrupted by the 
mail in black, who entered the apartment, 
introducing his niece, a young lady of ex- 
quisite beauty. Her very appearance was suf- 



ficient to silence the severest satirist of the 
sex; easy without p. ride, and free without 
impuilence, she seemed capable of supplying 
every sense with pleasure; her looks, her 
conversation were natural and unconstrained ; 
she had neither been taught to languish nor 
ogle, to laugh without a jest or sigh without 
sorrow. J found that she had just retuiiied 
from al)road, anil hatl been conversant in the 
manners of tlie world. Curiosity prompted 
me to ask several questions, but she declined 
them all. 1 own I never found myself so 
strongly prejudiced in favour of ajjparent 
merit before; and could willingly have pro- 
longed our conversation, but the company 
after some time withdrew. Just, however, 
before the little beau took his leave, he called 
me aside, and requested I would change him 
a twenty-pound bill, which, as I was in- 
capable of doing, he was contented with 
borrowing hall'-a-crown. Adieu. 



LETTER C. 



A LIFE OF INDEPENDENCE PRAISED. 
From Lien Chi Allaiiffi to Hingjio, hy the ivai/ of .Moscow. 



Few virtues have been more praised l)y 
moralists than generosity : every practical 
treatise of ethics tends to increase oi"' ""•■-- 

bilitvofthedUtr.^. .....r.sanU to relax 

»i.v giosp of frugality. Philosoi'hers that are 
poor, praise it because they are gainers by its 

rfacUius; her future liome, tlio l;ridc withdraws to 
liiT cliamlitT, from wliicli, after a brief space, s-lie 
Umu-s into the i.Tcat liall, Ix-ariu;.' ttie areca or Victcl- 
uut. Here (says Mr. Davis) " having none tlirouL'h 
some ceremonies in company with tlie briilcKToom, 
she is led back to lier cliaml.er, v here she is unveiled 
by her future husltand. A table is tlieu spread, and 
tlie cup of alliance is drank to^'elher by the youn;,' 
couple. Some fortunate matron, the mother of 
mauv children, then enters and pronounces a bene- 
dicti^n, Jis well as goes tliroiiuh the form of Li>ini 
the nuptial tx-d. Meanwhile the party of friends iti 
the liall make merry, and vheii the briile^Toom joins 
them, they either ply him with wine or not, accord- 
in^' to the character and craib- of the compaiiy. 
When the hour of retirement arrives, they escDrt him 
to the door of the chamlM;r in a body, and then dis- 
l)er8e." 



elVects ; and the opulent Seneca hiiiis^j| ^|?a| 

^:ii}!^^ ^^^'m-ddi^g away. 

But among the many who have enforced 
the duty of giving, I am surprised there are 
none to" inculcate the ignominy of receiving; 
to show that by every favour we accept we 
ill some measure forfeit our native freedom, 
and that a state of continual dependence on 
the generosity of others is a life of gradual 
debasement. 

^Vere men taught to despise the receiving 
obligations with the same force of reasoning 
and declamation that they are instructed to 
confer them, we mii^hl then see every person 
in society Idling up the veciuisite duties of his 
station w'ith cheerful industry, neither relaxed 
by hoiR' nor sullen from disappointment. 

Every favour a man receives in soine 
measure sinks him below his dignity, and in 
proiiortion to the value of the benelit, or the 



198 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



fieciueiicy of its acceptauco. lie gives up so 
much oi' his natural independence. He, 
therefore, who thrives ujion the unmerited 
bounty of another, if he has any seusiljility, 
suffers the worst of servitude; the shackled 
slave may murmur without reproach, but the 
humble dependent is taxed with ingratitude 
upon every symptom of discontent ; the one 
may rave round the walls of his cell, but the 
other lingers in all the silence of mental con- 
finement. To increase his distress, every new 
obligatiun but adds to the former load which 
kept the vigorous mind from rising ; till at 
last, elastic no longer, it shapes itself to con- 
straint and puts on habitual servility. 

It is thus with the feeling mind ; but there 
are soine who, born without any share of sen- 
sibility, receive favour aiter favour and still 
cringe for more ; who accept the oiler of 
generosity with as little reluctance as the 
wages of merit, and even make thanks for 
past benefits an indirect petition for new : 
such I grant can sutler no debasement from 
dependence, since they were originall)- as 
vile as was possible to be : dependence de- 
grades oidy the ingenuous, but leaves the 
sordid mind in pristine meanness. In this 
manner, therefore, long-continued generosity 
is misplaced, or it is injurious: it either Hnds 
a man worthless or it makes him so ; and 
true it is, that the person who is contented to 

bp often oliliged ought not to have been 
Oljllgeu o.„ „„.° ° 

Yet while I describe the meannt-js ,^r _ 

life of continued dependence, I would not be 

thought to include those natural or political 

subordinations which subsist in every society ; 

for in such, though dependence is exacted 

from the inferior, yet the obligation on either 

side is mutual. The sou must rely upon his 

parent for support, but the parent lies under 

the same obligations to give that the other 

has to expect ; the subordinate officer must 

receive the commands of his superior, but 

for this obedience the former has a right to 

demand an intercourse of favour. Such is not 

the dependence I would depreciate, but that 

where every expected favour must be the 

result of mere benevolence in the giver, where 

the benefit can be kept without remorse or 

transl'erred \\ ithout injustice. The character 

of a legacy-hunter, for instance, is detestable 



in some countries, and despicable in all ; this 
universal contempt of a man who infringes 
upon none of the laws of society, some moral- 
ists have arraigned as a popular and unjust 
prejudice; never considering the necessary 
degradations a wretch must undergo, who 
previously expects to grow rich by benefits, 
without having either natural or social claims 
to enforce his petitions. 

But this intercourse of benefaction and 
acknowledgment is often injurious even to the 
giver as well as tlie receiver. A man can gain 
but little knowledge even of himself, or of 
the world, amidst a circle of those whom hope 
or gratitude has gathered aroiuid him ; their 
unceasing humiliations must necessarily in- 
crease his comjiarative magnitude, for all 
men measure their own abilities by those of 
their company : thus being taught to overrate 
his merit, he in reality lessens it ; increasing 
in confidence, but not in power, his professions 
end in empty boast, his undertakings in 
shameful disapjiointment. 

It is perhaps one of the severest misfortunes 
of the great, that they are, in general, obliged 
to live among men wliose real virtue is lessened 
by dependence and whose minds are enslaved 
by obligation. The humble companion may 
have at first accepted patronage with generous 
views, but soon he feels the mortifying influ- 
ence of conscious inferiority, by degrees sints 
into a flatterer, and flattery at last degenerates 
into stupid veneration. To remedj- this the 
"",""* nOen dismiss their old dependents and 
take new. .^uc- o.„„„„„. ,-..u,i^. imputed 
to levity, falsehood, or caprice in the patron, 
since they may be more justly ascribed to the 
client's gradual deterioration. 

No, ni)- son, a life of independence is 
generally a life of virtue. It is that which 
fits the soul for every generous flight of 
humanity, freedom anil friendship. To give 
should be our jjleasure, but to receive our 
shame ; serenity, health, and aflluence attend 
the desire of rising by labour ; misery, re- 
jientance, and disrespect that of succeeding 
by extorted benevolence : the man who can 
thank himself alone for the happiness he 
enjoys, is truly blessed ; and lovely, far more 
lovely the sturdy gloom of laborious indigence 
than the fawning simper of thriving adulation. 
Adieu. 



COXTEXTED TO BE GlIDED ]1Y THOSE WHO COVERX. 



loa 



LETTER CI. 

TiiE rEjn.t: mist be contented to re gl'ided dv those whom taly uwl. ArroiNTEO to 

GOVEUN A STOKV to THIS El'l-ECT. 

From Lien Chi .lltaiKji to Fuin Hoam, first president of the Ceremonial Academj at 

Pekin, in China. 



In every society some men are born to teacli, 
anil others to receive instinction ; some to 
work, ami otiiersto enjoy in idleness the fruits 
of their industry : some to govern, and others 
to obey. Every ])eoj)le, liow free soever, 
nuist Iw contented to give uj) ])art of their 
lihert)- and judgment to tliosi.' who govern, in 
exchange for tlieir hopes of security ; and the 
motives whicli tirst influenced tlieir choice in 
the election of their governors should ever I)e 
Aveighetl against tlie succeeding apjiarent in- 
consistencies of their conduct. All cannot 
he rulers, and men are liest governed hy a 
few. In making wav tlirougli tlie intricacies 
of business, the smallest olistacles are apt to 
retard the execution of what is to be ])launed 
by a multiplicity of counsels; the judgment 
of one alone being always litlest for winding 
through the lal>yrinths of intrigue and the 
obstructions of disa])pointment. A serpent, 
which, as the fable observes, is furnished with 
one head and many tails, is much more 
capable of subsistence and expedition than 
another which is furnished with but one tail 
an<l many heads. 

Obvious as these truths are, the people of 
this country seem insensible of their force. 
Not satislied with the advantages of internal 
))eace and opulence, they still murmur at 
their governors, and interl'ere in the execution 
of their designs, as if they wanted to be 
something more than hapjiy. Hut as the 
Europeans instruct by argument, and the 
Asiatics mostly by narration, were I to address 
them I should convey my sentimentis in the 
following storv : — 

Takupi had long been prime minister of 
Ti])artala, a fertile country that stretches 
along the western confines of China. Du- 
ring his administration, whatever advatitages 
could be derived from arts, learning, and 
conuncrce, were seen to liless the people ; nor 
were the necessary precautions of providing 
for the security of the state forgotten. It 



often happens, however, tliat wlien men are 
possessed of all they want, they then begin to 
find torment from imaginu-y alHictioiis, and 
lessen their present enjoyments iiy foreboding 
that tliose enjoyments are to have an end. 
Th(^ people now tlieretbre endeavoiu'Cil to find 
out grievances ; anil, after some search, actu- 
ally began to think themselves aggrieved. 
A petition against the enormities of Takupi 
was carried to the throne in due form ; and 
the cpieen, who governed tlie country, willing 
to satisfy her subjects. ap]iointed a day in 
which his accusers slioiild lie heard anil the 
minister slioald stand upon his deleii(;e. 

The day being arrived, and the minister 
brought before the tribunal, a carrier, whrj 
supplied the city with tisli, ajipeared among 
the number of his accusers. He exclaimed, 
that it was the custom, time immemorial, for 
carriers to Ijring their fish upon a horse in 
a hamper ; which being placed on one side, 
and balanced by a stone on the other, was 
thus conveyed with ease and safety ; but that 
the prisoner, moved either by a spirit of in- 
novation, or perhaps bribed by tlie hamper- 
makers, had oliliged all carriers to use the 
stone no longer, but lialance one hamper 
with another; an order entirely reiiugnant 
to the customs ol" all auti{puty, and those of 
the kingdom of Tipartala in [larticular. 

The carrier finished, and the whole court 
shook their heads at the innovating minister, 
when a second witness ajipeared. He was 
inspector of the city buildings, and accused 
the disgraced favourite of having given orders 
for the deinolition of an ancient ruin, which 
obstructed the jiassage through one of the 
principal streets. He observed that such 
buildings were nolile monuments of barija- 
rous antiijuity ; contributed finely to show 
how little their ancestors understood of archi- 
tecture; and for tiiat reason such monuments 
sliuuld be held sacred and suffered gradually 
to decay. 



2 00 



CITIZEN OF THE WOULD. 



The last witness now appealed. This was 
a widow, who had laudably atteni])ted to 
bum herself upon her husbands i'uneral pile. 
But the innovating minister had prevented 
the execution of her design, and was insen- 
sible to her tears, ]irotestations and entreaties. 

The queen could have ])ardoned the two 
foinier oU'ences; but this last was considered 
as so gross an injiu y to the sex, and so direct- 
ly contrary to all the customs of antiquity, 
that it called for immediate justice. ''What !"' 
cried the queen, '' not sutler a woman to burn 
heriself when she thinks proper? The sex are 
to be prettily tutored no doubt, if they must 
be restrained from entertaining tlieir i'emale 
friends now and then with a tried wife, or 
roasted acquaintance. I sentence the pri- 
soner to be banished my presence I'or ever for 
his injurious treatment of the sex."" 

Takupi had been hitherto silent, and spoke 
only to show the sincerity of his resignation. 



" Great queen," cried he, '■ I acknowledge 
my crime; aid since I am to be banished, 
I beg it may be to some rained town or de- 
solate village in the country I have governed. 
I shall find some pleasure in improving the 
soil and bringing back a spirit of industry 
among the inhabitants."' His request appear- 
ing reasonable, it was immediately complied 
with ; and a courtier had orders to fix upon 
a place of banishment answering the mi- 
nister's description. After some months' 
search, however, the inquiry proved fruitless ; 
neither a desolate village, nor a ruined town 
was found in the kingdom. "Alas!" said 
Takupi then to the queen, " how can that 
country be ill-governed which has neither a de- 
solate village, nor a ruined town in it f The 
queen perceived the justice of his expostu- 
lation, and the minister was received into 
more than former favour. Adieu. 



LETTER CII. 



THE PASSION FOE GAMING AMONG THE LADIES RIDICULED. 

From the Same. 



The ladies here are by no means such 
ardent gamesters as the women of Asia. In 
this respect I must do the English justice ; 
for I love to praise where applause is justly 
merited.' Nothing ismore common in China 
than to see two v/omen of fashion continue 
gaming till one has won all the others clothes, 
and stripped her quite naketl ; the winner 
thus marching ol^' in a doubde suit of finery, 
and the loser shrinking behind in the primi- 
tive simplicity of nature. - 



^ Faro, piin'.ct, whist, ami " doav" bras formed 
the great deliylit, aud v ere almost the only amuse- 
ments of ladies during the middle of the last century. 
P'or the most part the\' either affected frivolous 
gaiety, or plumed themselves on notability as Iiouse- 
w ivcs, in eitlier case the exercise of tlie faculties by 
the varied intellectual resources -which now abound 
being equally unknown. In Is'o. 15 of the ' Ram- 
bler" (May, 1750) there is a letter from a lady on the 
point of being "dragged into the country," as she 
calls it, by her husliand, in which she avows that 
on the road she will amuse herself by making the 
monkey play at cards with her. 

- The vice of gambling appears in China to be 



No doubt, you remember when Shaiig. our 
maiden aunt, played with a sharper. First 
her money went ; then her trinkets were 
produced; her clothes followed piece by 
piece soon after: when she had thus play- 
ed herself quite naked, being a woman of 
spirit, and willing to pursire her own, she 
I staked her teeth ; fortune was against her 
even here, and lier teeth followed her clothes ; 
at last she played for her left eye, and, oh ! 
hard fate, this too she lost : however, she had 
the consolation of biting the sharper ; for he 
never perceived that it was made of glass till 
it became his own. 

How happy, my friend, are the English 



almost entirely confined to the lower classes, as 
public opiidon attaches great disgrace to persons of 
ofiicial rank or of respectable station who gamble. 
Dice, cards, and dominoes are all of them known to 
the Chinese. " Their cards are small pieces of paste- 
board about two inches long iUid an inch broad, with 
black aud red characters on the faces." Chess differs 
from the same game as played in India in every 
respect except being a game of skill. 



CHINESE rillLOSOrilER THINKS Ol' QUITTING ENGLAND. 



201 



ladies, who never rise to such an inordinance 
of ]);L<sioii ! Though tlie sex liere are gene- 
rally fonil of irames of chance, and are taui^ht 
to manage ganle^> ol" skill iVoni their infancy, 
yet they never ])arsue ill-fortune with such 
amaziii;; intrepidity. Indeed I may entirely I 
acquit tiiem of ever playing — I n)eau of 
playing for their eyes or their teetli. 

It is true, they often stake their fortune, 
their beauty, health, and rejmtations at a 
gaming-tahle. It even sometimes iiappens 
that tliey ])lay their husbands into a jail; 
yet still they preserve a decorum unknown 
to our wives and daughters of China. I 
have been present at a rout in this country, 
where a woman of fashion, after losing her 
money, has sat writhing in all the agonies 
of bad luck ; and yet, after all, never once 
attempted to strip a single petticoat, or cover 
the board, as her last stake, with her head- 
clothes. 

However, though I praise their moderation 
at play, I must not conceal their assiduity. 
In China our women, except upon some great 
days, are never permitted to finger a dice- 
box ; but here every day seems to be a fes- 
tival ; and night itself, which gives others 
rest, only serves to increase the female game- 



ster's industry. I have been told of an old 
lady in the country, who, being given over 
by the physicians, played with tlie curate of 
her parish to pass tlie time away : having 
won all his money, she next jiroposed playing 
fur lier funeral charges; the proposal was 
accepted ; Inil unfortunately the lady expireil 
just as she had taken in her game. 

There are some passions which, though 
differently pursued, are attended with equal 
consequences in every country : iiere they 
game with more ))erseveraiice, there with 
greater fury ; here they strip their families, 
there they striji themselves naked. A lady 
in China, who indulges a jjassion for gaming, 
often becomes a drunkard ; and by flourisli- 
ing a dice-box in one hand, she generally 
comes to brandish a dram-cup in the other. 
Far be it from me to say there are any wlio 
drink drams in England ; but it is natural 
to su))])ose, that when a lady has lost every- 
thing else l)ut her honour, she will be apt to 
loss that into the bargain : and, grown in- 
sensible to nicer feelings, behave like the 
Spaniard, who, when all his money was gone, 
endeavoured to borrow more by offering to 
pawn his whiskers. Adieu, 



LETTER cm. 



THE CHINESE PHILOSOPHER BEGINS TO THINK OF Cil ITTING ENGLAND. 



From Lien Chi Allanyi to '' 

I HAVE just received a letter from my son, in 
which he informs me of the fruitlessness of 
his endeavours to recover the lady with whom 
he fleil from Persia. He strives to cover, 
under the a])j)earance of fortitude, a heart 
torn with anxiety and disa])])oinlment. I 
have offered little consolation; since that 
but too fre(iuently feeds the sorrow which it 
pretends to deplore, an<l strengtiiens the im- 
pression, which nothing i)ut the external rubs 
of time and accident can thoroughly elVace. 

He iidorms me of his intentions of quitting 
Moscow the lirst oj)portiuiity, and travelling 
by land to Amsterdam. I must, therefore, 
upon his arrival, entreat the continuance of 
your friendship; ami lieg of you to i)rovide 



*, jMerchant in Am.sterdnni. 

him with proper directions for finding me in 
London. You can scarcely be sensible of 
the joy I exj)ect upon seeing him once more : 
the ties between the father and tlie son among 
xis of China are nuich more closely drawn 
than with you of Europi\ 

The remittances sent me from Argun to 
Moscow came in safety. 1 cannot sufH- 
ciently admire that spirit of honesty which 
j)revails tlirough the whole country of Siberia : 
[)crha])s the savages of that desolate region 
are the only untutored jieople of the globe 
that cultivate the moral virtues even w ithout 
knowing that their actions merit praise. I 
have been told surj)rising things of their 
goodness, benevolence, and generosity ; and 



202 



CITIZKN OF THE AVOllLD. 



the uiiinteriu])leil commevce between China 
and Russia serves as a collateral confirmation. 
'• Let us," says tlie Chinese lawgiver. " ad- 
mire the rude virtues of the ignorant, hut 
ratlier imitate the delicate morals of the 
]iolite."" In the country where I reside, 
though honesty and benevolence be not so 
congenial, yet art supplies the place of nature. 
Though here every vice is can-ied to excess, 
yet every virtue is practiseil also with un- 
exampled su])eriority. A city like this is 
the soil for great virtues and great vices; the 
villain can soon improve here in the deepest 
mysteries of deceiving ; and the practical 
philoso])her can every day meet new incite- 
ments to mend his honest intentions. There 
are no pleasures, sensual or sentimental, 
which this city does not produce ; yet, I 
know not how, I could not be content to 
leside here for life. There is something so 
seducing in that spot in which we tirst had 
existence, that nothing but it can please : 
whatever vicissitLides we experience in life, 



however we toil, or Avheresoever we wander, 
our fatigued wishes still recur to home for 
tranquillity : we long to die in tliat sj)ot 
whicij gave us birth, and in that pleasing 
expectation opiate every calamity. 

Vou now, therefore, perceive that I have 
some intention of leaving this country ; and 
yet my designed departure fills* me with 
reluctance and regret. Though the friend- 
ships of travellers are generally more transient 
than vernal snows, still I feel an uneasiness 
at breaking the connexions I have formed 
since my arrival ; particularly I shall have 
no small pain in leaving my usual companion, 
guide, and instructor. 

I shall wait for the arrival of my son 
before I set out. He shall be my companion 
in every intended journey for the future: in 
his company I can sui)port the fatigues of 
the way with redoubled ardour, pleased at 
once with conveying instruction and exacting 
obedience. Adieu. 



LETTER CIV 



THE ARTS SOME MAKE USE OF TO APPEAR LEARNED. 

From Lien Chi Altaiifjl to Fum Huam. first pres'uUnt of the Ceremonial Academy at 

Pekin. in China. 



Our scholars in China have a most profound 
\enerafion for forms. A tirst-rate beauty 
i.ever studied the decorums of dress with more 
assiduity ; they may properly enough be said 
to be clothed with wisdom from head to foot; 
they have their philosophical caps and philo- 
sojihical whiskers, their jjhilosophical slippers 
and philosophical fans ; there is even a 
jihilosophical standard for measuring the 
nails; and yet, with all this seeming wisdom, 
tliey are often found to be mere empty pre- 
tenders. 

A philosophical beau is not so frequent in 
Europe ; yet I am told that such characters 
are found here. I mean such as punctually 
support all the decorums of learning, without 
being really very i)rofound, or naturally pos- 
sessed of a tine understanding; who lal)our 
hard to obtain the titular honours attending 



literary merit, who (latter others, in order to 
be flattered in turn ; and only study to be 
thought students. 

A character of this kind generally receives 
comjiany in his study, in all the pensive 
formality of slippers, night-gown, and easy- 
chair. The table is covered with a large 
book, which is always kept open, and never 
read; his solitary hours being dedicated to 
dosing, mending pens, feeling his pulse, 
peeping through the microscope, and some- 
times reading amusing books, which he 
condemns in company. His library is pre- 
served with the most religious neatness, and 
is generally a repository for scarce books, 
which bear a high price, because too dull 
or useless to become common hy the ordinary 
methods of publication. 

.Such men are generally candidates for 



THE AllTS SOME MAKE TSE OV TO API'EAK LEAUNED. 



20$ 



admittance into literary clubs, academies, 
and institutiiins, where tliey regularly meet 
to give and receive a little instruction and a 
great deal of praise. In conversation tliey 
never hefray ignorance, because they never 
seem to receive inl'ormatioii. OlVer a new 
oliservation, tliey have heard it Ijcliire; pindi 
tluin in an argument, anil they rejily with 
a sneer. 

Vet how trilling soever these little arts may 
appear, they answer one valuable jmrpose, of 
paining the practisers the esteem tliey wish 
tor. The bounds of a nian"s knowledge are 
easily concealed if he h;is but ])rudence ; 
but all can readily see and admire a gilt 
library, a set of long nails, a silver standish, 
or a \vell-coml)ed whisker, who aru incapable 
of ilistinguishiiig a dunce. 

AV'lien Father Matthew,' the first European 
missioner, entered China, the court was in- 
formed that he possessed great skill in 
astronomy; he was tlierelbre sent for, and 
examineti. The establislied astronomers of 
state undertook this task, and made their 
report to the emperor that his skill was Ijut 
very superticial, and no way comparalde to 
their own. The missioner, however, appealed 
from their judgment to experience, and 
challengi'd them to calculate an eclipse of 
the moon that was to hajijien a fvw nights 
following. " What !" said one, " shall a bar- 
barian without nails pretend to vie witli men 
in astronomy who have made it the study of 
their lives, with men who know half the 
knowable characters of words, who wear 
scientifical caps and slijjjicrs, and who have 



gljili- lKro< 

ajiplause'^"' 



^». 



overy 



lit 



erarv 



w ith 



They accepted the challenge, 



1 Matlliew Kieci, an Italian Jesuit, may l)e coii- 
siiiered as tlie founder of Clnislian missions in 
China, to wliicli country he proceciiod in Ibb'.t, but 
he dill not ol)tain an introiluction to tlin emperor 
until Willi. The persons eliosen for this mission 
were miMi of scionlitic a<'(|uirenifnls, and it was 
Hicci's mathematical atlainmenls which ensured him 
a fuotini; at court. 



confident of success. Tlie eclipse began ; tlic 
Chinese produced a most splendid apparatus, 
and were fifteen minutes wrong; the mis- 
sioner with a single instrument was exact to 
a second. This was convincing; but the 
court astronomers were not to be convinced; 
instead of acknowledging their error, they 
assured the emperor that tlieir calculations 
were certainly exact, but that the stranger 
without nails liad actually bewitched the 
moon. '• I fell then," cries the good emperor, 
smiling at their ignorance, '' i/oieshallntillcun- 
tiiiue to be servants of the moon ; but I con- 
stitute this man her controller." 

China is tlius replete with men wliose 
only pretensions to knowledge arise from 
external circumstances; audinEuro[)e every 
country abounds witli them in proportion to 
its ignorance, .Spain and Flanders, ■' who are 
behind the rest of Europe in learning at least 
three centuries, liave twent\' literary titles 
and marks of distinction unknown in France 
or England : they have their Cl<irissi//ii. and 
Prec/a/issu/ii, tiieir .Icci/rattssimi^ and -\Iinu- 
tissuni: a round cap entitles one student to 
argue, and a scpiare cap permits another to 
teach; while a cap with a tassel almost sanc- 
tifies the head it happens to cover. But 
where true knowledge is cultivated, these 
formalities begin to disappear; the ermined 
cowl, the solemn lieard, and sweeping train, 
are laid asi(h'; jihilosophers dress and talk 
and tliink like other men; and lamb-skin 
dressers and cap-makers, and tail-carriers, 
now deplore a literary age. 

For my own part, my friend, I have seen 
enough of ])resumiiig ignorance never to 
venerate wisdom liut where it actually ap- 
jiears. I have received literary titles and 
distinctions myself; and, by the (piantity of 
my own wisdom, know how very little wisdom 
they can confer. Adieu. 



2 A Kreat part of Flanders w asat this perio.l under 
the domiuioa of Spain. 



201 



CITIZEN OF THE -WORLD. 



LETTER CV. 

THE INTENDED COEONATION DESCIilBED. 

From Lien C'hi Altnmji to Finn Hoam, first president of the Ceremonial Academy at 

Peliiii, III China. 



The time for tlie j-oinig king's coronation ap- 
proaches;' the great and tlie little worldlook 
forward with impatience. A knight from 
the country, who lias brought up his family 
to see and be seen on this occasion, has taken 
all the lower part of the house where I lodge. 
His wife is laying in a large quantity of 
silks, which the mercer tells her are to be 
fashionable next season ; and miss, her 
daughter, has actually had her ears bored 
previously to the ceremony. In all this 
bustle of preparation I am considered as mere 
lumber, and have been shoved uji two stories 
higher, to make room for others my landlady 
seems perfectly convinced are my betters ; 
but whom before me she is contented with 
only calling very good company. 

The little beau, who has now forced him- 
self into my intimacy, was yesterday giving 
me a minute detail of the intended procession. 
All men are eloquent upon their favourite 
topic ; and this seemed peculiarly adajjted to 
the size and turn of his understanding. His 
whole mind was blazoned over with a variety 
of glittering images; coronets, escutcheons, 
lace, fringe, tassels, stones, bugles, and spun 
glass. '' Here," cried he, " Garter is to walk : 
and there Rouge Dragon marches with the 
escutcheons on his back. Here Clarencieux 
moves forward; and there Blue Mantle dis- 
dains to be left beliind. Here the aldermen 
march two and two ; and there the un- 
daunted champion of England, no way 
terrified at the very numerous appearance of 
gentlemen and ladies, rides forward in com- 
plete aiTnour, and with an intrepid air throws 
down his glove. Ah," continued he, " should 
any be so hardy as to take up that fatal 
glove and to accept the challenge, we should 
see tine sport ; the champion would show 
him no mercy ; he would soon teach him all 
his passes with a witness. However, I am 
afraid we shall have none willing to try it 

' The coronation took place September 22, 1761. 



with him upon the approaching occasion, for 
two reasons: lirst, because his antagonist 
would stand a chance of being killed in the 
single combat ; and, secondly, because if he 
escapes the champion's arm, he would cer- 
tainly be hanged for treason. No, no, I 
fancy none will be so hardy as to dispute it 
with a champion like him inured to arms, 
and we shall probably see him prancing 
uimiolested away, holding his bridle thus in 
one hand, and brandishing his di-am-cup in 
the other." 

Some men have a manner of describing, 
which only wraps the subject in more than 
former obscurity : thus was I unable, with all 
my companions volubility, to form a distinct 
idea of the intended procession. I was cer- 
tain that the inauguration of a king should 
be conducted with solemnity and religious 
awe ; and I could not be persuaded that there 
was much solemnity in this description. 
If this be true, cried I to myself, the people 
of Europe surely have a strange manner of 
mixing solemn and fantastic images together ; 
pictures at once replete with burlesque and 
the sublime. At a time when the king 
enters into the most solemn compact with his 
people, nothing surely should be admitted 
to diminish from the real majesty of the 
ceremony. A ludicrous imago brought In at 
Buch a time throws an air of ridicule upon 
the whole. It some way resembles a picture 
I have seen, designed by Albert Durer, 
where, amidst all the solemnity of that awful 
scene, a Deity judging, and a trembling 
world awaiting the decree, he has introduced 
a merry mortal trundling his scolding wife 
to hell in a wheelbarrow. 

My companion, who mistook my silence, 
during this interval of reflection, for the 
rapture of astonishment, proceeded to de- 
scribe those frivolous parts of the show that 
mostly struck his imagination ; and to as- 
sure me if I staid in this country some 
months longer I should see fine things. 



THE INTENDED CORONATION DESCRIBED. 



205 



'• For my own part," continued he, " I know 
already of lifteen suits of clothes, that would 
stand on end with gold lace, all designed 
to be first shown there ; and as for diamonds, 
rubies. emeraUls, and pearls, we shall see 
them as thick as brass nails in a sedan chair. 
And then we are all to walk so majestically 
thus: this foot always behind the foot l>efore. 
The ladies are to lling nosegays, the court 
]K)ets to scatter verses ; the spectators are to 
\)e all irt full dress ; Mrs. Tilths in a new 
sacque. rufttes. ancl frenclunl hair ; look where 
you will, one thing finer than another; Mrs. 
Tibbs curtsies to the duchess; her grace re- 
turns the cimipliment with a b;>w. Largess, 
cries the herald. Make room, cries the 
gentlemati usher. Knock him down, cries 
the guard. Ah I" continued he, amazed at 
his own description, '• what an astonishing 
scene of grandeur can art produce from the 
smallest circumstance, when it thus actually 
turns to wonder one man putting on another 
man's hat.'" 

I now foiniil his mind was entirely set 
upon the fopiieries of the pageant, and quite 
regardless of the real meaning of such costly 
jireparations. " Pageants," says Hacon, " are 
pretty things ; but we should rather study to 
make them elegant than expensive " Pro- 
cessions, cavalcades, and all that fund of gay 
frippery, furnished out by tailors, barbers, 
and tire-women, mechanically influence the 
mind into veneration: an emperor in his 
nightcap would not meet with half the respect 
of an emperor with a glittering crown. 
Politics resemble religion : "attemjiting to 
divest either of ceremony is tlie most certain 
method of bringing either into contempt. 
The weak must have their inducements to 
admiration as well as the wise; and it is the 
business of a sensible government to impress 
all ranks with a sense of subordination. 
whether this l»e effected by a diamond fjuckle 
or a virtuous edict, a sumjttuary law or a 
glass necklace. 

This iiiter^-al of reflection oidy gave my 
Comj)anion spirits to begin his description 
afresh; and iis a greater inducement to raise 
my curiosity, he informed me of the vast 
sums that were given by the spectators for 
places. '' That the ceremojiy must be fine," 
cries he, " is very evident from the fine price 



that is paid for seeing it. Several ladies have 
assured me, they would willin-^dy part with 
one eye rather than be prevented from look- 
ing on with the other. Come, come," con- 
tinues he, " I have a friend who for my sake 
v/ill sujiply us with ])laces at the most reason- 
able rates; I will take care you shall not be 
imposed upon ; and he will inform you of 
the use, finery, rapture, splendour, and en- 
chantment of the whole ceremony better 
than I. " 

Follies often repeated lose their absurdity 
and assume the appearance of reason : his 
arguments were so often and so strongly 
enforced, that I had actually some thoughts 
of becoming a spectator. We accordingly 
went together to bespeak a place : but guess 
my surprise, when the man demanded a purse 
of gold for a single seat : I could hardly 
believe him serious upon m iking the demand. 
" Pr'ythee, friend," cried I, '" after I have paid 
twenty ])ounds for sitting here an hour or two, 
can I bring a part of the coronation Itack?" 
— ■• No, Sir." — ''How long can I live upon it 
after I have come away V — " Not long. Sir." 
— '• Can a coronation clothe, feed, or fatten 
me?" — " Sir," replied the man, " you seem to 
be under a mistake ; all that you can bring 
awaj' is the pleasure of having it to say that 
you saw the coronation." — '• Hhist me! " cries 
Til)bs, '• if that l)e all, there is no need of 
jjaying for that, since I am resolved to have 
that pleasure, whether I am there or no!"^ 

I am conscious, my friend, that this is but 
a very confused description of the intended 
ceremony. Vou may object, that I neither 
settle rank, precedency, nor jtlace : that I 
seem ignorant whether Gules walks ijcfore or 
behind (iarter ; that I have neither mentioned 
the dimensions of a lords cap. nor measured 
the length of a lady's tail. I know your 
delight is in miimte descrijjtion ; and this I 
am unhapj)ily disqualified from funiisiiing; 
yet, upon tiie whole, I fancy it will be no 
way comparable to the magnificence of our 
late emperor W'hangti's procession, when he 
was married to the moon, at whicli Fum 
Hoam himself presided in person. Adieu. 



I It w ill be seen from this ilctcrmination of Beau 
Til)l>s tluit there wiis nothing.' original in the joke 
usually atlributoil to a lute einiueiu « il and politic um. 



206 



CITIZEX OF THE AVORLD. 



LETTER CVI. 



FUNERAL ELEGIES WKITTEN IPON THE GKEAT RIDICrLED — A SPECIMEN 01' ONE. 

Fro)» the SriMe. 



It was formerly the custom here, when men 
of distinction (lied, for their surviving ac- 
quaintance to llirow each a slii^'lit ])resent into 
the grave. Several things of little value were 
made use of for that purpose : perfumes, relics, 
spices, bitter herbs, camomile, wormwood, 
and verses. This custom, however, is almost 
discontinued ; and notliing but verses alone 
are now lavished on such occasions; an ob- 
lation whicli tliey supp.ose may be interred 
witli the dead, without any injury to the 
living-. 

Upon the death of the great, therefore, the 
poets and undertakers are sure of employ- 
ment. While one provides the long cloak, 
black stafl'. and mourning coach, the other 
produces tlie pastoral or elegy, the monody 
or ajjotheosis. The nobility need be under 
no apprehensions, but die as fast as they tliink 
proper, the poet and undertaker are ready to 
supply them ; these can find metaphorical 
tears and family escutcheons at lialf an hour's 
warning : and when the one has soberly laid 
the body in the grave, the otlier is ready to 
fix it figuratively among the stars. 

There are several ways of being poetically 
sorrowful on such occasions. The bard is 
now some pensive youth of science, who sits 
deploring among the tombs; again he is 
Thyrsis complaining in a circle of harmless 
slieep. Now Britannia sits upon her own 
shore, and gives a loose to maternal tender- 
ness; at another time Parnassus, even the 
mountain Parnassus, gives way to sorrow, 
and is bathed in tears of distress. 

But the most usual manner is this : Damon 
meets Menalcas, who has got a most gloomj' 
coiuitenance. The she))herd asks liis friend, 
whence that look of distress? to whicli the 
other rejilies that Pollio is no more. " If that 
lie tlie case, then," cries Damon. '• let us 
retire to yonder bower at some distance off, 
where tlie cypress and the jessamine add fra- 
grance to the breeze ; and let us weep alter- 
nately for Pollio, the friend of shepherds, and 
the patron of every muse." — " Ah,"' returns 



his fellow shepherd, '-what think you rather 
of that grotto by tlie fountain side? the mur- 
muring stream will liel]) to assist our com- 
plaints, and a nightingale on a neighbouring 
tree will join her voice to the concert."' \^'hen 
the place is thus settled, they begin : the 
brook stands still to hear their lamentations ; 
the cows forget to graze ; and the very tigers 
start from the forest with symjiathetic con- 
cern. By the tombs of our .incestors. my 
dear Fum. I am quite unaffected in all this 
distress : the whole is liquid laudanum to 
my spirits; and a tiger of common sensibility 
lias twenty times more tenderness than I.^ 

But though I could never weep with the 
complaining shepherd, yet I am sometimes in- 
duced to pity tlie poet, whose trade is thus to 
make demi-gods and heroes for a dinner. 
There is not in nature a more dismal figure 
than a man who sits down to jiremeditated 
flattery ; every stanza he writes tacitly re- 
proaches the meanness of his occupation, till 
at last his stujiidity liecomes more stupid, and 
his duhiess more diminutive. 

I am amazed, therefore, that noTie have yet 
found out the secret of flattering the worth- 
less, and yet of preserving a safe conscience. 
I have often wished for some method by which 



1 During the fust lialf of the last century there 
were in Italy a numlier of poetic academies whose 
members amused themselves with writing elegies, 
monodies, and other pieces in prose as well as in 
^el■se on the death of every little-great personage, 
V Inch wrn'e full of extravagant and absurd eulogiums 
of the di ceased. .Tohn Anthony Sergio, president 
of one of these eonchaves, and himself a most active 
inditer of panegyrics, having offended the Abbe 
(jaliani, a wit, albeit a cle^e^ political economist, 
the Abbe took an early opportunity of revenging 
liimself, and at the same time of ridiculing an absurd 
custom. The Jack Ketch of Naples having died, 
Galiani set to work and soon produced a \olumo 
entitled — ' Various Compositicns for the Death of 
Dominick .Tannacone, Hangman of the Grand Court 
of the Vicavia ' (the Newgate of Naples). Tlie 
Immorous imitations of style and the general feli- 
city i,f this\\ilty piece of burlesque were received 
vith laughter tliroughout Italy. 



STORY OF AN INCENDIARY. 



207 



a man niifrht do himsfir and his deceased 
jiatriin justice, witlumt t)eins^ under llie hatetnl 
reproadi of self-conviction. After loni,' lucu- 
bration I have hit ujjon such an expedient; 
and send you the specimen of a poem uj)on 
the decease of a ijreat man, in which the 
llatterv is i)erfectly line, and yet the poet per- 
fectly innocent. 

0.1 the Death of the liight IJonouraUe * * *. 

Yc miisrs, pour the pitying tear 

For I'ollio siiiitcirA .i\v;>y : 
O. hail lie liv'il anolhiT your I 

— lie had imt died tu-d i;/. 



O, wore lie bnrii to lilcss mankind 

In virtuous tiinos of yoro, 
IIiToi'> lliomsolvos liail fallen beliiiul I 

— ff'hcne'cr hi; ti-enf bi'fore. 

How sail tlio Krovps ami plains .appoar, 

Au'I sympathetic shoop; 
Ev'n l)ityiu^' liills wuiilil drop a tear ! 
— Ij hills could Iv'irn to weep. 

His bounty in exalted strain 
llach bard niii,'lit \\A\ display: 

Since HI no implor'd roliofiii v.aiti! 
— That u-ent rilleved aiviii/. 

And hark ! I hoar the tuneful throng 

His obsequies forbid ; 
Ho still sliall live, shall live as long 

— As ever dead man did. 



LETTK R CVII. 



THE ENGLISH TOO FOND OF liEI.IEVING EVEIiV UEl'ORT WITHOIT EXAMINATION — 

A STORY OF AN INCENDIAUV. 

From the Same. 



It is the most usual method in every report, 
first to examine its jiroliahllity, and tlieti act 
as the c(»iijuiictiiremay re(piire. Tlie lMif,'lish, 
however, exert a dill'erent spirit in such cir- 
cumstances; they first act, aiul when too late 
Ijoijin to examine. From a knowledge of this 
ilispositioti. there are several here who make 
it their husiness to frame new re])orts at every 
convenient interval, all tending to denounce 
ruin liotli on their contemporaries and tlieir 
]x)steritv. Tliis tleimnciation is eagerly 
caught uj) I»y the public ; away they fling to 
propagate tlie distress; sell out at one place, 
i>iiy in at another, grumhle at their governors, 
shoiit in mohs, and when tliey have thus for 
some time liehavedlike fools, sit down coolly 
to argue ami talk wisilom, to ])iiz7.1e eacli 
other with syllogism, anil jjiepare fur the next 
re])ort that jtrevails, which is always attended 
with tlie same success. 

Tiiiw are they ever rising ahove one re])ort 
nidy to sink into another. They resemble a 
dog in a well j)awing to get free. AN'iien he 
has' raised his u])])er ]»art.s above water, and 
• •very spectator ima;;ines iiiin <lisengaged, his 
lower parts drag him down again and sink 
hitn to tlie nose; he make-s new clVorts to 
emerge, and every elVort increasing his weak- 
ness, only tends to sink him the deeper. 



There are some here who, I am told, make 
a tolerable subsistence by tlie credulity of 
their countrymen; as they find the putjlic 
fond of blood, wounds, and death, they con- 
trive political ruins suited to every month in 
the year : this montli the ))eople are to be 
eaten up Ijy the French in flat-bottomed 
boats; tlie next by tlie soldiers, designed to 
beat the French liack ; now the people are 
going to juinj) down the gulf of luxury; and 
now notiiing but an herring subscrijition can 
fish them up again.' Time passes on ; the 
report proves false; new circumstances pro 
duce new changes, but the people never 
change, they are persevering in folly. 

In other countries those boding jjoliticiaus 
would be left to fret over their own schemes 
alone, and grow siilenetlc without ho])es of in- 
fi'ctiiig others : but Knglaii<l seems to be the 
very region where sjdeeii delights to dwell ; a 
man not only can give an uiil)ounded scope 

1 'Hiis was tlu' poriod of the ruiuDUS and iinpro- 
fit.ibli' horriiifi mania, from whiilia mine of woalth 
was anti(ii)atod. .V low years l)ofori> 500,il0iJ/. had 
boon subsoril)od, and a iiunibor of nolilcmou and 
f;i'utlonion won- inrorporatod asa public body luidor 
the name of the ' Society for the Free IJritish 
Fishery.' The fishory was oncoura'.'od by bouiilios, 
which in \~b'.< were increased so extravagantly as to 
be 50j, per tan. 



208 



CITIZEN OF THE "WORLD. 



to the disovdcr in himself, but may, if he 
pleases, propagate it over the whole kingdom, 
with a certainty of success. He has only to 
cry out that the government, tlie government, is 
all wrong, tliat their schemes are leading to 
ruin, that Britons are no more; every good 
member of the commonwealth thinks it his 
duty, in such a case, to deplore the universal 
decadence with sympathetic sorrow, and by 
fancying the constitution in a decay, abso- 
lutely to impair its vigour. 

This ])eople would laugh at my simplicity, 
should 1 advise them to be less sanguine in 
harbouring gloomy predictions, and examine 
coolly before they attempted to complain. I 
have just heard a story, which, though trans- 
acted in a private family, serves very well to 
describe the behaviour of the whole nation, in 
cases of threatened calamity. As there are 
public, so there are private incendiaries here. 
One of the last, either for the amusement of 
his friends, or to divert a fit of the spleen, 
lately sent a threatening letter to a worthy 
family in my neighbourhood, to this effect : — 

" Sir, knowing you to be very rich, and 
-finding myself to be very poor, I think proper 
to inform you, that I have learned the secret 
of poisoning man, woman, and child, without 
danu-er of detection. Do not be uneasy, Sir, 
you may take your choice of being poisoned 
in a fortnight, or poisoned in a mouth, or 
poisoned in six weeks; you shall have full 
time to settle all your ati'airs. Though I am 
poor, I love to do things like a gentleman. 
But, Sir, you must die ; I have determined it 
within my own breast that you must die. 
Blood. Sir, blood is my trade; so I could 
wisli vou would this day six weeks take leave 



of your friend.s, wife, and family, for I cannot 
possilily allow you longer time. To convince 
you more certainly of tlie power of my art, by 
which you may know I speak truth, take this 
letter ; when you have read it, tear off the seal, 
fold it up, and give it to your favourite Dutch 
mastiff that sits by the lire ; he will swallow 
it. Sir. like a buttered toast; in three hours 
four minutes after he has taken it he will 
attempt to bite off' his own tongue, and half an 
hour after burst asunder in twenty pieces. 
Blood, blood, blood; so no more at present 
from. Sir, your most obedient, most clevoted 
humble servant to command till death." 

You may easilj' imagine the consternation 
into whicli this letter threw the whole good- 
natured family. The poor man to wliom it 
was addressed was the more surprised, as not 
knowing how he could merit such inveterate 
malice. All the friends of the family were 
convened; it was universally agreed that it 
was a most terrible alVair, and that the govern- 
ment should be solicited to offer a reward and 
a pardon : a fellow of this kind would go on 
poisoning family after firmilj-; and it was im- 
possible to say where the destruction would 
end. In pursuance of these determinations, 
the government was applied to; strict search 
was made after the incendiary, but all in vain. 
At last, therefore, they recollected tliat the ex- 
periment was not j'et tried upon the dog ; the 
Dutch mastiff" was brought up, and placed in 
the midst of the friends and relations, the seal 
was torn oft", the packet folded up with care, 
and soon they found, to the great surprise of i 
all, that the dog would not eat the letter. I 
Adieu. 



LETTER CVIII. 



THE UTILITY AND ENTERTAINMENT THAT MIGHT RESULT FROM A JOURNEY INTO THE EAST. 

From the Same. 



I HAVE frequently been amazed at the igno- 
rance of almost all the European travellers, 
who have penetrated any considerable way 
eastward into Asia. They have been in- 
fluenced either by motives of commerce or 



piety, and tlieir accounts are such as might 
reasonably be expected from men of very 
narrow or very prejudiced education, the 
dictates of superstition or the result of igno- 
rance. Is it not surprising, that in such a 



ITII.ITY OF A JOUKXEY IXTO THE r.A.ST. 



209 



variety of ailventurcrs not one single jiliilo- 
soi)lier sluiuUl lie found? for as to tlie travels 
of (ienii'Ui, the leanietl are long agreed that 
the whole is but an imposture.' 

There is scarcely any country how rude or 
uncultivated S(iever. where the inhaliitants 
are not p)ssessed of some ])cculiar secrets, 
either in nature or art, whicli might be ti-ans- 
jilanteil with success: in .Siberian Tartar)', for 
^n^tance. tl:e natives extract a strong spirit 
from milk, which isasecret probably unknown 
to the chemists of Europe. In the most 
savage parts of India tliey are posscs.sed of the 
secret of dying vegetable substances scarlet; 
and of retining lead into a metal, whicli for 
hardness and colour is little inferior to silver; 
not one of wiiich secrets but would in Europe 
make a mans fortune. The pow er of the 
Asiatics in ])roducing winils, or bringing 
down rain, tlie Euroi;eaiis are apt to treat as 
fabulous, iiecause they have no instances of 
the like nature among themselves; Ijut they 
would have treated the secrets of gunpowder, 
and the mariner's compass, in the same man- 
ner, had they been told the Chinese used such 
arts before the invention was common with 
themselves at home. 

Of all the English philosophers I most 
reverence Hacon, that great antl hardy genius ; 
he it is who allows of secrets yet inikuown ; 
who, undaunted by the seeming diflicullies 
that 0])jM)se, jjrompts human curiosity to 
examine every part of nature, and even ex- 
horts man to try whether he cannot subject 
the tem],est, the thunder, and even earth- 
quakes to human control. O, did a man of 
his daring s;)irit, of his genius, ];enctration, 
and learning, travel to those countries which 
have been visited only by the superstitious and 
mercenary, what might not mankind expect! 
how would he enlighten the regions to which 



' Tliis cjihirany is (ri\on on tlie ■lutliorily of tlie 
Jesuit miiuiuiiHrieti, Imt llicre ia little <li>iilit that 
Gemelli \isitoil the various eountries which he has 
(lescrilx'il in \>\» ' Voy.-ife Itounil the World.' lie 
first \isiti'<l the <liniTeiit countries of EurojH", and 
aller« arils proceeded to I'ersia, India, I'hnia, the 
Manillas, and South America. lliimboUll says that 
his dc'.oriiitions have that local tint " which can only 
be L'iven 1)\ those who have lieeu ocular « itiiesses of 
what they descrilK-." (jemelli was horn at Naples 
in 1 651, and his traveU were publiiihcd iu six vols. 
12mo. in 1C'J9— 1700. 



he tiaM'llt'd! And what a variety of know- 
ledge and. useful improvement would he not 
bring back in exchange! 

Theie is probably no country so barbarous, 
that would not tlisclose all it knew if it re- 
ceived from the traveller etpiivalent iidbr- 
matiun; and 1 am apt to think that a jiersou 
who was ready to give more knowledge than 
he received, would be welcome wherever he 
came. All his care in travelling should only 
be to suit his intellectual banquet to the 
people with whom he conversed : he should 
not attem])t to teach the unlettered Tartar 
astronomy, nor yet instruct the polite Chinese 
in the ruder arts of sulwistence; he should 
endeavour to improve the barbarian in the 
seciets of living comfortably; and the in- 
habitant of a more refined country in the 
speculative pleasures of science. How much 
nioie noldy would a jihilosophcr thus em- 
ployetl spend his time, than liy sitting at 
honie earnestly intent upon adding one star 
more to his catalogue; or one monster more 
to his collection; or still, if possil)le, more 
triflingly sedulous in the incatenation of fleas, 
or the sculpture of a cherry-stone! 

I never consider this subject without being 
sur]irised that none of tliose societies so laud- 
alily established in England for the promo- 
tion of arts and learning, have ever thought of 
sending one of their members into the most 
eastern jiarts of Asia to make what disco- 
veries he was able. To be convinced of the 
utility of such an undertaking, let them but 
reatl the relations of their own travellers. It 
will be there found tliat they are as often 
deceived themselves as they attempt to de- 
ceive others. The merchant tells us jierhaps 
the jirice of dilVerent commodities, tiie mc:- 
thods of baling them up, and the jiroperest 
manner for a European to preserve his health 
in the country. The missioncr, on the other 
hand, informs us, with what pleasure the 
country to which he was sent mdiraced 
Chiistiaiiity, and the numbers he coiiveited; 
what methods he took to keep Ltiit in a 
region when- there was no llsh, or the shifts 
he made to celelirate the rites of his religion 
in places where there was neither bread nor 
wine! Such accounts, with the usual ajipend- 
age of marriage and funerals, inscriptions, 
livers, and mountains, make up the whole of 



210 



CITIZEN OF THE WOKT.T). 



a European traveller's diary; Imt as fo all 
tlie secrets of wliich tlie iiihaliitaiits are 
jiossessecl, those are universally attributed to 
magic ; and when the traveller can give no 
other account of the wonders he sees per- 
formed, very contentedly ascribes them to the 
power of the devil. 

It was a usual observation of Boyle, the 
Engli.-h cheniiit, that if every artist would 
but discover what new observations occurred 
to him in the exercise of his trade, philosophy 
■would thence gain innumerable improve- 
ments. It may be observed with still greater 
justice, that if the useful knowledge of every 
country, howsoever barbarous, was gleaned 
by a judicious observer, the advantages wouhl 
Le inestiuialjle. Are there not even in Euroiie 
many useful inventions known or practised 
but in one place ? The instrument as an 
example, for cutting down corn in Germany 
is much more handy and expeilitious, in my 
opinion, than tlie sickle used in England.' The 
cheap and expeditious manner of making 
vinegar without previous fermentation is 
known only in a part of France. If such dis- 
coveries, therefore, remain still fo be known at 
home, what funds of knowleilge might not 
be collected in countries yet unexplored, or 
only 2)assed through by ignorant travellers in 
hasty caravans! 

The caution witli which foreigners are 
received in Asia may be alleged as an objec- 
tion to such a design. But how ready have 
several European merchants found admission 
into regions the most suspecting, under tlie 
character of Sanjapins, or northern pilgrims! 
to such not even China itself denies access. 

To send out a traveller, properly qualified 
for these i)urposes, might be an object of 



' The Haiuault scythe, an instrument which it 
lias been vainly attemjited to introduce into this 
country. In cue of Martin Doyle's excellent little 
pulilications on rural economy, it is said that this 
scytlie would enalile a laljourer to earn doulile 
wages during the most prolita'ile season of agricultu- 
ral labour: at least this would be the case until its 
use had become 1,'eueral. 



national concern: it would in some measure 
repair the breaches made liy ambition ; and 
might show that there were still some who 
boasted a greater name tlian that of patriots, 
who professed themselves lovers of men. The 
only ditliculty would remain in choosing a 
proper person for so arduous an enterprise. 
He should be a man of a philosophical turn, 
one apt to deduce consequences of general 
utility from particular occurrences, neither 
swollen with pride, nor hardened by pre- 
judice; neither wedded to one particular 
system, nor instructed only in one particular 
science; neitlier wholly a botanist, nor quite 
an antiquarian; his mind should be tinctured 
witli miscellaneous knowledge, and his man- 
ners humanised by an intercourse with men. 
He should be in some measure an enthusiast 
in tlie design; fond of travelling from a rapid 
imagination and an innate love of change ; 
furnished with a body capable of sustaining 
every fatigue, and a heart not easily terrified 
at danger. Adieu.* 

'^ The .\siatic .Society of lieng.al, the earliest in- 
stitution for promoting inquiries into the geographv, 
liistory and arts of the countries of the East, was 
founded at Calcutta by Sir William Jones, iti 17S4. 
An Asiatic Society was formed at Paris in 1822, and 
one in London in 1823. An .Virican Institution, esta- 
blished in 17S8, was formed with the design of en- 
couraging men of enterprise to explore the African 
continent. These, with the various missionary so- 
cieties which send Christian labomers into every 
([uarler of the globe, were not established until above 
a (juarterofa century after this letter was written. In 
allusion to this projected visit to Asia, Dr. Johnson 
saiil that, " of all men Goldsmith is the most unlit to go 
out upon such an inquiry, for he is utterly ignorant 
of such arts as we already possess, and conseciuently 
could luit know w hat would be accessions to our pre- 
sent stock of mechanical knowledge. Sir, he w oukl 
bring home a grinding-barrow, which you see in 
every street in London, and think that he had turnishecl 
a wonderful improvement." This opinion of Gold- 
smith's qualifications is very probably not far from 
the truth. He says himself that the person " pro- 
perly qualitied" for the task in question should be 
neither " wholly a botanist nor quite an antiquarian," 
whereas a party coiisisting of iuen who have made 
some department of knowledge their special study is 
the best calculated for sucli an expedition as the one 
in question. 



1 



ATTEMnS TO FIND OUT FAMOUS MEX. 



211 



LETTER CIX. 



THE CHINESE rillLOiJU'llLK ATTEMPTS TO KIND OLT KAMOLS :MEV. 

From the Same. 



One of the principal tasks I had jiroposed 
to niysolf on my arrival licrc was to iK'coiiie 
acquainted with the names and characters of 
those now living, who, as sdiolars or wits. 
had ac(piired the greatest share of reputation. 
In order to succeed in this design, 1 fancied 
the surest method would lie fo liegin my in- 
quiry among the ignorant, judging that his 
fame would he greatest which was loud 
enough to be hi'ard by the vulgar. Thus 
predisposed, I began the search, but only went 
in quest of disappointment and perplexity. 
I found every district had a ))eculiar famous 
man of its own. Here the story-telling shoe- 
maker had engrossed tiie admiration of one 
side of tlie street, while the Ix'llman, who ex- 
celleth at a catch, was in (piiet possession of 
the other. At one end of the lane the sexton 
•was regarded as the greatest man alive ; but 
I had not travelled half its length, till 1 found 
an enthusiast teacher had divitled his reputa- 
ti<n. My landlady, perceiving my design, 
was kind enough to otl'er nie her advice in 
this alVair. It was true, she observed, tliat 
she was no judge, liut she knew what pleased 
herself, and if 1 could rest upon her judgment, 
I should set down Tom Collins as the most 
ingenious man in the world, for Tom was 
able to take olV all mankind, and imitate 
besides a sow ami pigs to j)erfection. 

I now ])erceived, that taking my standard 
of reputation among tlje vulgar would swell 
my calalogue of great names above the size of 
a Court Calendar; I theiefore discontinued 
this method of pursuit, and resolved to prose- 
cute my inquiry in that usual residence of 
fame, a bookseller's shop. In consequence of 
this I entreated the bookseller to let me know 
who they were wlio now made the greatest 
figure either in morals, wit, or learning. With- 
out giving me a direct answer, lie pulled a 
jiamphlet from the shell", 'The ^'oung Attor- 
ney's (iuide ;' '■ There, Sir," cries he, " there is 
a toucli for you; lifteen hundred of these 
moved o(V in a day. I take the author of this 
lamphh.t eitlier for title, jireface, plan, 



body, or index, to be the comjiletest hand in 
England." I found it was vain to prosecute 
my inquiry, where my informer appeared so 
incompetent a judge of merit, so j)aying for 
the • \'oung Attorney's (iuide," which good 
manners obliged nie to liiiy, I walked oil'. 

My pursuit after famous men now brouglit 
me into a })rint-shop. Here, thought I, the 
painter only reflects the public voice. .\s 
every man who deserved it had formerly his 
statue })laced up in the Roman forum, so 
here probably the pictures of none but such 
as merit a place in our afVections are held up 
for pulilic sale. Hut guess my surprise when 
I came to examine this tlejwsitory of noted 
faces; all distinctions were levelled here as 
in the grave, and I could not but regard it 
as the catacomb of real merit. The brick-dust 
man took up as much room as the truncheon- 
ed hero, and the judge was elbowed by the 
thief-taker ; quacks, jjinips, and liufVoons in- 
creased the grouj), and noted stallions only 
made room for more noted wliores. I had read 
the works of some of the moderns ]>reviou.sly to 
my coming to England with delight and ap- 
probation, but I foundtheir f.ices had no place 
here ; the walls are coverd with tiie names of 
authors I had never known, or had endea- 
vouredto forget; with thelittleself-advertising 
things of a day wlio had forced themselves 
into fashion but not into tame. I coidd read at 
the bottcjni of some ]iictures tlie names of "■•'•■', 
and '''■'■■'', and***''', all eipially candidates for 
the vulgar shout, anil foremost to propagate 
their unl)lushing faces upon brass. My un- 
easiness, therefore, at not finding my few 
favourite names among tiie numlier was now 
clianged into congratulation; I could not 
avoid reflecting on tlie lino observation of 
Tacilus on a similar occasion. '■ In this 
cavalcade of flattery," cries the historian, 
'• neither the pictures of" Hrutus, Cassius, nor 
Cato, were to be seen, eu clwiores quia im- 
ayi/ies eonan noii dej'en-bniitiir, their absence 
being the stroiigest proof of their merit." 

'•Jt is in vain," cried 1, "to sei'k f"or true 

1- 2 



212 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



greatness among these monumeiifs of the un- 
Liuied dead ; let me go among the tombs of 
tliose who are confessedly famous, and see if 
any have been lately deposited there who de- 
serve the attention of posterity, and whose 
names may be transmitted to my distant 
friend as an honom- to the present age. De- 
termined in my pursuit, I paid a second visit 
to Westminster Abbey. There I found 
several new monuments erectetl to the me- 
mory of several great men ; the names of the 
great men I absolutely forget, but I well re- 
member tliat Rouljillac was the statuary who 
carved them. I could not help smiling at 
two modern epitaphs in ]tarticular, one of 
■which praised the deceased for being ottits 
ex (iiitiqiia stirpe ; the other commended the 
dead, because haitc eedem si/is stnnpfihiis rece- 
dificavit : the greatest merit of one consisted 
in his being descended from an illustrious 
house; the chief distinction of the other, that 
he had propped u]) an old house that was 
fiiUing. "Alas! alas!" cried I, " such mo- 
numents as these confer honour, not upon 
the great men, but upon little Roubillac." 

Hitherto disapjiointed in my inquiry after 
the great of the present age, I was resolved 
to mix in company, and try what I could 
learn among critics in coll'ee-houses ; and 
here it was that I heard my favourite names 
talked of even with inverted fame. A gen- 
tleman of exalted merit as a writer was 
branded in general terms as a bad man ; 
another, of exquisite delicacy as a poet, was 



reproached for wanting good-nature ; a third 
was accused of free-thinking ; and a fourth 
of having once been a player. "Strange!" 
cried I ; " how unjust are mankind in the dis- 
tribution of fame! the ignorant, among whom 
I sought at first, were willing to grant, but 
incapable of distinguishing the virtues of 
those w ho deserved it ; among those I now 
converse with, they know the proper objects 
of admiration, but mix envy with applause." 
Disappointed so often, I was now resolved 
to examine those characters in person of 
M'hom the world talked so freely; by con- 
versing with men of real merit, I began to 
find out those characters which really de- 
served, thougli they strove to avoid, applause. 
1 found the vulgar admiration entirely mis- 
])laced, and malevolence without its sting. 
The ti'uly great, possessed of numerous small 
faults and shining virtues, preserve a suldime 
in morals as in writing. They who have at- 
tained an excellence in either commit num- 
berless transgressions, observable to the mean- 
est understanding. The ignorant critic and 
dull remarker can readily spy blemishes in 
eloquence or morals, whose sentiments are 
not sufficiently elevated to observe a beauty ; 
but such are judges neither of books nor of 
life ; they can diminish no solid reputation 
by their censure, nor bestow a lasting cha- 
racter by their applause : in short, I found, 
l)y my search, that such only confer real fame 
upon others who have merit themselves to de- 
serve it. Adieu. 



LETTER ex. 



SOME PROJECTS FOR INTRODUCING ASIATIC EMPLOYMENTS INTO THE COURTS OF ENGLAND. 



From the Su>. 



There are numberless employments in the 
courts of the eastern monarchs utterly un- 
practised and unknown in Europe. They 
have no such officers, for instance, as the em- 
peror's ear-tickler, or tooth-picker ; they have 
never inh-oduced at the courts the mandarin 
appointed to bear the royal tobacco-box, or 
the grave director of the imperial exercita- 
tious in the seraglio. Yet I am sunnised 



that the English have imitated us in none of 
these particulars, as they are generally pleased 
with everything that comes from China, and 
excessively fond of creating new and useless 
employments. They have tilled their houses 
with our furniture, their public gardens 
with our fire-works, and their very ponds 
with our fish : our courtiers, my friend, are 
the fish and the I'mniture they should have 



I 



IXTUODUCIXG ASIATIC EMrLOY.MEXTS INTO ENGLAND. 



•213 



ini])orted : mir cjurticrs would fill up the 
iiecossary ceremuiiios ot" ii court l)fil('r than 
tliose of" Europe, woul<l he coiitiMilod witii 
receiving lar^je salaries for doiui; liltle, where- 
as some of this country are at present dis- 
contented, though they receive large salaries 
for doing nothing. 

I lately, therefore, had thou'^hts of pnhlish- 
ing a proposal here for the adnussion of some 
new eastern otHces and titles into their court 
register. As I consider myself in tin; light 1 
of a cosmopolite, I find as much satisfaction I 
in scheming lor the countries in which 1 hap- 
pen to reside as for that in which I was 1) )rn . , 
" The finest apartments in the palace of i 
Pegu are frequently infested with rats ; 
these the religion of the coiuitry strictly for- 
liids the people to kill. In such circum- 
stances, therei'ore, they are ol)liged to have 
recourse to some great man of the court, wlio 
is willing to free the royal apartments even at 
the hazard of his salvation. After a weak 
monarch's reign, the quantity of court vermin 
in every corner of the palace is surprising. 
but a prudetit king and a vigilant olWcer 
soon drive them from their sanctuaries 
behind the mats and the ta])fstry. and elVec- 
tually free the court. Such an ofScer in 
England would, in my opinion, be service- 
able at this juncture; for if, as 1 am told, the 
palace be old, much vermin must undoubt- 
edly have taken refuge behind the wainscot 
and hanging. A minister should, therefore, 
be invested with the title and dignities of 
court vermin-killer ; he should have full 
power either to banish, take, poison, or destroy 
them, with enchantments, traps, ferrets, or 
ratsbane. He might be permitted to brandish 
his besom without remorse, and brush down 
every part of the furniture, without sparing a 
single cobweb, however sacred l)y long i)re- 
Bcription. I communicated this ])roposal 
some days ago in a company of the fiist dis- 
tinction, and enjoying the most honouraljle 
oflices of the state. Among the numlier 
were the insfjector of Great Hrifain, iMr. Hen- 
ri(piez, the director of the ministry, Ben 
^'ictor, the treasurer, .John Lockman, the 
secretary, and tlie coniluctor of the Imperial 
Magazine.' They all acquiesced in the 

' Mr. Jacob Hciriqueit, a gentlemaTi of the Jowi^li 



utility of my proyiosal, but were apprehensive 
it might meet with some obstruction fV,)m 
coin-t upholsterers and chambermaids, who 
would ohject to it iVom tlie demolitions of 
the f'urniture, and the dangerous use of fer- 
rets and ratsbane. 

jVIy next proposal is rather more general 
than the former, and might probably meet 
with less 0])position. Though no ji'.'ople iu 
the world flatter each other more than the 
English, I know none who undcrstantl the 
art less, and flatter with sucli little retinemont. 
Their panegyric, like a Tartar feast, is indeed 
served up with profusion, but their cookery 
is insupportable. A client here shall dress 
up a fricassee for his jiatron that sliall oifend 
an ordinary nose before it enters the room. 
A tov/n shall send up their address to a great 
minister, which shall prove at once a satire 
on the minister and tliemselves. If the 
favourite of the day sits, or stands, or sleeps, 
there are poets to put it into verse, and 
priests to preach it in the pulpit. In order, 
therefore, to free both those who praise, and 
those who are praised, from a duty probably 
disagreealde to both, I would constitute pro- 
fessed flatterers here, as in several courts of 
India. 

These are appointed in the courts of their 
princes to instruct the people where to ex- 
claim with admiration, and where to lay 
an emphasis of praise. But an ofHcer of this 
kind is always in waiting when the emperor 
converses in a familiar manner among his 
rajahs and other nol)llity. At every sentence, 
when tlie monarch pauses and smiles at what 
he has been saying, the karamatnian, as this 
oflicer is called, is to take it for granted that 
his majesty has said a good thing. Upon 
which he cries out, "Karamat! karamat! a 
miracle! a miracle! " andthrows up his hands 
and his eyes in ecstasy. This is echoed by 
till' courtiers arovuid, while the emperor sits all 
this time in sullen satisfaction, enjoying the 
tiiumph of his joke, or studying a new 
repartee. 

I would have such an ofKcer placed at 



pprsuasion, who projected various plarn for raising 
immi-y, jKiyiiii: oil' tlu' uatiimal dclit, .V<:. Victor 
was treasurer of Dnuy Lane Thoatrc; ami l/jikmiin 
was a small poi'l ami cililor of a ma','aiiiic. in which 
capacity hu liai (jivcu olVeiico to Uoldsmilli. 



214 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



every great man's talilo in Englaml. Ry 
frequent ])raftice lie might soon become a 
perfect master of the art, and in time would 
turn out pleasing to his patron, no way 
troublesome to himself, and might prevent 
the nauseous attempts of many more ignorant 
])retenders. The clergy here, I am convinced, 
would relish this ])ro])()sal ; it would provide 
places for several of them : and indeed, by 
some of their late productions, many appear 
to have qualifisd themselves as candidates 
for lliis oilice already. 

But my last proposal I take to be of tlie 
utmost importance. Our neighbour, the em- 
][)ress of Russia, has, you may remember, 
instituted an order of female hnightliood ; the 
empress of G'eiTnany has also instituted an- 
other ; the Chinese have had such an order 
time immemorial. I am amazed the English 
have uever come into such an institution. 
When I consider what kind of men are made 
liniglits here, it appears strange tliat they have 
Jiever conferred this honour upon women. 
They make cheesemongers and pastrycooks 
knights ; then why not their wives? They have 
called up tallow-chandlers to maintain the 
hardy profession of chivalry and arms ; then 
why not their wives ? Haberdashers are sworn, 
as I suppose all knights must be sworn, never to 
Jly in time (if mellai/ or battle, to maintain 
and i/pholil the noble estate of chira/ri/. with 
horse harnishe and other knightlye habiliments. 
Haberdashers, I say, are sworn to all this; 
then why not their wives? Certain I am 
their wives luiderstand lighting and feats of 
mellay and battle better than they ; and as 
for knightly horse and harnishe, it is pro- 
bable both know nothing more than the 
harness of a one-horse chaise. No, no, my 
friend, instead of conferring any order upon 
.the husbands, I would knight their wives. 
However, the state should not be ti'oul)led 
with a new institution upon this occasion. 



Some ancient ex])]odod order might be re- 
vived, which would furnish both a motto 
and a name ; the ladies might be permitted 
to choose for themselves. There are. for 
instance, the obsolete orders of the Dragon in 
Germany, of the Rue in Scotland, and the 
Porcupine in France, all well-soimding 
names, and very ajiplicable to my intended 
female institution. Adieu.' 



' Tliere have been and still are in several countries 
female orders of kniulitliood. In 1688, the Kmjiress 
IHeanora instituted llie Order of tlie Starry Cross in 
Austria to commeaioiatc the preser\ation of a sup- 
posed frai,'mcnt of the true Cross durins; a fire. Tlie 
Order of St. C.itlieriue of Kussia, founded l)y Peter 
the (ireat in 1714 in lionour of tlie Empress, ad- 
mitted persons of Viotli se.xes, the Empress being 
always Grand Mistress. In ITOfi, the Electress 
of liavaria instituted the Onler of Eliz.ibetli for 
females only ; and the I'avarian Order of Tlieresa, 
est.ablished in 1827 by the queen, is also a Female 
Order. In Portiii;al two orders have been founded 
in tlie jirescnt century, one of which admits both 
seNos, and the other only females. The present King 
of Prussia instituted a Female Order in 1814, as a 
reward for women who had distinguished tliemselves 
by their patriotism durini; the war. Tiiere was also 
a Female Order established in Sjain in 17!)3. From 
the lirst institution of the Order of the Garter to at 
least as late as the rei,i.ni of Edward IV. (14G1— 1483), 
the (|ueen, some of the knii,'hts-companions' wives, 
and other L'leat ladies, were admitted to a larticipation 
in tlie lionouis of the fraternity, and had robes and 
lioods of the f-'ift of the so\ereif;n, the former sar- 
iiished with little embroidered ^'arters. Tlie ensign 
of the ;.'artor was also delivered to them, and they 
were expressly termed " Dames de la Fraternite de 
St. George." Two monuments are still existin'.' which 
Itear tisures ofladics wearing the garter : the Duchess 
of ."^ullblk's at Ewelnic in Oxfordshire, of the lime 
of Henry VI. (142^ — l-iGll, represents her wcarin^j 
it on the wTist in the manner of a bracelet; Lady 
Ilareourt's, at Stanton Harcourt in tlie same county, 
wears the u^nter on her left arm. In 1(3.39, an attempt 
was made to revive the )iriMlei.'es of the ladies of the 
kni'.rhts-companions, and the dcsij^ni was cncoiirased 
by Queen Henrietta, wife of Charles I., but the Civil 
^Var, which soon afterwards commenced, prevented 
this object being accomplislied. 



DIFFERENT SECTS IN ENGLAND. 



21.) 



LETTER CXI. 

OS Tiir: DIKl'-EUENT SECTS IN ENGI,.VXI), IWllTlCL'L.inLY MET110DI3T3. 

Front the Sn/iie. 



llELiaiors sects in Eiiglaml are far more 
iiuinenms than in China. Kvei y man who 
has interest enough to hire a conventicle here 
may set u]) for liimself, ami sell oft' a new 
religion. The sellers of the newest pattern at 
present give extreme good hari^ains, and let 
their disciples have a great deal oi conjiguiice 
for very little money. 

Tlicir shops are much frequented, and 
tlieir customers every day increiising, for 
people are naturally fond of going to para- 
dise at as small e.vpense as possible. 

Yet you must not conceive this modern 
sect as dirterin^ in opinion from those of the 
established religion: dilVereuce of opinion 
indeed formerly divided their sectaries, and 
sometimes drew tlieir armies to tlie liehl. 
White gowns and l)lack mantles. Happed hats 
and cross pocket-lioles, were once the obvious 
causes of (juarrel ; men then hail some reason 
for fighting, they knew wliat they fought 
about ; but at present they are arrived at 
such refinement in religion-making, that they 
have actually formed a new sect without a 
new ojjinion; they ipiarrel for opinions they 
both equally defend ; they hate each other, 
and that is all the dillerence between them. 

But though tlieir principles are the same, 
their ]iractice is somewhat dilVerent. Those 
of the established religion laugh when they 
are ]>le,i.sed. and their groans are seldom 
t'Xtorted but by pain or danger. The new 
sect, on the contrary, weep for their amuse- 
ment, and use little music except a chorus of 
sighs and groans, or tunes that are made to 
imitate groaning. Laughter is tlieir aversion ; 
lovers court each other from the Lamenta- 
tions; the bridegroom a])pr(iaclies llie nuptial 
couch in sorrowful solemnity, and the liride 
looks more dismal than an undertaker's shop. 
Dancin;' round the room is with them run- 



1 rinlilxmitti ilocs not appear to liavc justly appro- 
ciateil till" moral roiji-iicnitioii wliicli Mi-thodism was 
pro<liiiiu'4 am )ii:;>t tlic p lorcr cIilssl-s in Kiiu'latnl, 
und wliicti .It lriii;tli slimnlatcd the clorij'y, anil ri)usi.il 
tlicm from llu-ir sluniberin;; state to ruucwcd zcul 
auJ usufuluttss. 



iiing in a direct line to tlie devil ; ami as fi)r 
gamiiiir. though but in jcsl, thev would s )i(ner 
play with a rattlesnake's tail than lin^'in- a 
dice-box. 

By this time you perceive that I am de 
scribing a sect of enthusiasts, and you have 
already com])areil them with the Faquirs, 
Bramins, and Talapoins of the East. Among 
these, you know, are generations tluit have 
never been known to smile, and voluntary 
aflliction makes u|) all the merit they can 
boast of. Enthusiasms in every country 
produce the same effects; stick the Faquir 
witii jiins, or confine the Bramin to a vermin 
hos]iital, s]iread the Talapoin on the ground, 
or load the sectary's brow with contrition; 
those worshippers who discard tlie light of 
reason are ever gloomy ; their fears increase 
in ])roi)ortion to their ignorance, as men are 
continually under apprehensions who walk 
in darkness. 

Vet there is still a stronger reason for the 
enthusiast being an enemy to laughter, 
namely, his being himself .so jiroper au 
object of ridicule. It is remarkable that the 
pro])agators of false doctrines have ever been 
averse to mirth, and always begin by re- 
commending gravity when they intended to 
disseminate imposture. Fohi, the idol of 
China, isre])resented as having never laughed. 
Zoroaster, tlie leader of the Bramins, is said 
to have laughed but twice, upon his coming 
into tiie world, and upon his leaving it ; and 
RLihomet liimself, though a lover of jileasure, 
was a professed o])])oser of gaiety. Upon a 
certain occasion, telling his followers that 
they would all ajjjiear naked at tlie resurrec- 
tion, his favourite wife represented such an 
assembly as immodest and unbecoming. 
" Foolish woman I " cried the grave ])rophet, 
"thoiigli (lie whole assemiily l)e naked, on 
that day they shall have fori,'otten to laugh."' 
Men like him opposed ridicule liecause they 
knew it to lie a most formidable antagonist, 
and jireached up gravity to conceal their own 
want of imjiortance. 

Ridicule h.is ever been the most powerfiJ 



21(5 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



enemy of eutlmsiasm. and pvopcily llie only 
antagonist that can l)e opposed to it with 
success. Persecution only serves to propa- 
ji:ate new religions; they acquire fresh vigour 
beneath the executioner and the axe, and, 
like some vivacious insects, multiply by dis- 
section. It is also impossible to combat en- 
thusiiism with reason : though it makes a sliow 
of resistance, it soon eludes the pressure, 
refers you to distinctions not to be under- 
stood, and feelings which it cannot explain. 
A man who woidd endeavour to lix an en- 
thusiast by argument, might as well attempt 
to spread quicksilver with liis tingcrs. The 
only way to conquer a visionary is to 
despise him ; the stake, the fagot, and tlie 
disputing doctor, in some measure ennoble 
the opinions they are brought to oppose : 
they are harmless against innovating pride ; 
contempt alone is truly dreadful. Hunters 
generally know the most vulnerable part of 
the beasts tliey pursue by the care which ever}' 
animal takes to defend the side which is weak- 
est : on what side the enthusiast is most vul- 
nerable may be known by tlie care which he 
takes in the beginning to work his disciples into 
gravity, and guard them against the power of 
ridicule. 



Wlien Piiilip theSecond was king of Spain, 
tliere was a contest in Salamanca between twt> 
orders of friars for suj)eriority. The legend of 
one side contained more extraordinary mira- 
cles, but the legend of the other was reckoned 
most authentic. They reviled each other, as 
it is usual in disputes of divinity ; the people 
were divided into factions, and a civil war ap- 
peared unavoidable. In order to prevent such 
an imminent calamity, the combatants were 
prevailed upon to submit tlieir legends to the 
iiery trial, and that which came forth un- 
touched by the fire was to have the victory, 
and to be honoured with a double share of 
reverence. Whenever the people flock to see 
a miracle, it is a hundred to one but that thej' 
see a miracle : incredible therefore were the 
numbers that were gathered round upon this 
occasion ; the friars on each side approached, 
and confidently threw their respective legends 
into the flames; when, lo ! to the utter disap- 
])ointment of all the assembly, instead of a 
miracle, both legends were consumed. No- 
thing but thus turning both parties into con- 
tempt could have prevented tlie efl'usiou of 
blood. The people now laughed at their 
former folly, and wondered why they fell out. 
Adieu. 



LETTER CXII. 

.\N ELECTION DESCRIBED. 

From tlie Same. 



The English are at present employed in cele- 
brating a feast, which becomes general every 
seventh year; the parliament of the nation 
being then dissolved, and another ajipointed 
to be chosen. This solemnity falls infinitely 
short of our feast of the lanterns in magnifi- 
cence and splendour : it is also surpassed by 
others of the East in unanimity and pure de- 
votion ; but no festival in the world can com- 
pare with it for eating. Tiieir eating indeed 
amazes me : had I five hundred heads, and 
were each head furnished with brains, yet 
would they all be insufficient to compute the 
number of cows, pigs, geese, and turkeys 
which upon this occasion die for the good of 
their country ! 



To say the truth, eating seems to mike a 
grand ingredient in all English parties of zeal, 
business, or amusement. When a church is 
to be built, or an liospital endowed, the direc- 
tors assemble, and instead of consulting upon 
it, they eat upon it, by which means tlie busi- 
ness goes forward with success. When the 
poor are to be relieved, the officers appointed 
to dole out public charity assemble and eat 
upon it; nor has it ever been known that tliey 
filled the bellies of the poor till tliey had 
jireviously satisfied tlieir own. But in the 
election of magistrates the people seem to ex- 
ceed all bounds: the merits of a candidate 
are often measured by the number of his 
treats; his constituents assemble, eat ujwn 



AX ELECTION DESCRIBED. 



217 



him, and lend their applause not to his in- 
ti'irrity «r sense, hut the quantities of his beef 
and hrandy. 

And yet I could forgive tliis peojjle their 
plentiful meals on this occasion, as it is ex- 
tremely natural for every man to eat a great 
deal when he gets it for nothing ; hut wliat 
amazes me is, that all this gootl living no way 
contributes to improve their good-liumour. 
On tiie contrary, they seem to lose their tem- 
per as they lose their a])])etite.s; every morsel 
tliey swallow, and every ghiss they pour down, 
serves to increase tlieir animosity. Many an 
honest niuTi. before as harmless iis a tame rabbit, 
when loaded with a single election dinner lias 
l>ecome more dangerous than a charged cul- 
verin. Ujwn one of these occasions I have 
actually seen a bloody-minded man-milliner 
sally fortli at tlie head of a mob, detenuined 
to face a desperate ])as(ry-cook who was 
general of the opjwsite party. 

But you must not suppose that they are 
without a pretext for thus beating each otiier. 
On the contrary, no man here is so uncivilised 
as to Ijeat liis neighl)'jur without jmxlucing 
very sufficient reasons. One canditlate, for 
instance, treats with gin. a spirit of their own 
manufacture ; another always drinks brandy 
imjKirted from abroad. Brandy is a whole- 
some liquor; gin a liquor wliolly their own. 
This then furnislies an obvious cause of quar- 
rel, whetiier it be most reasonable to get drunk 
with gin or get drunk witli brandy ■? Themol) 
meet ujjon the debate ; light tliemselves sober ; 
anil then draw olV to gel drunk again, and 
charge for another encounter. So that the 
English may now ])ro]ierly be said to be en- 
patied in war; since while they are subduing 
their enemies abroad, they are breaking each 
other's heads at iiome. 

I lately made an excursion to a neighbour- 
ing village, in order to l)e a s])ectator of tlie 
ceremonies ])ractised upon tiiis occasion. I 
left town ill company with three liddlers, nine 
dozen liams, and a corporation poet, whicii 
were designed as reinforcements to the gin- 
drinking ])arty. We entiTcd the town with 
a very (rood face; the ri<ldh'rs. noway inti- 
midated by tiie enemy, ki'pt handling tiieir 
arms up tlif jirincipal "street. By this ])rudent 
manoeuvre they took pe.iceable ))ossession of 
their head-quarters, amidst tlie shouts of mul- 



titudes, who seemed perfectly rejoiced at hear- 
ing their music, but above all at seeing their 
bacon. 

I must own I could not avoid lieing 
pleased to see all ranks of peo])le on this 
occasion levelled into an equality, and the 
poor, in some measure, enjoy the jirimitive 
j)rivileges of nature. If there was any dis- 
tinction shown, the lowest of the people 
seemed to receive it from the rich. I could 
perceive a cobbler with a levee at his door, 
and a haberdaslier giving audience from 
behind his counter. But my reflections were 
soon interrupted by a mob, who demanded 
whether I was for the distillery or tlie 
brewery '? As these were terms with which 
I was totally unacquainted. I chose at lirst 
to be silent : however, I know not what might 
have been the consequence of my reserve, liad 
not tiie attention of the mob been called oft" 
to a skirmish between a brandy-drinker's cow 
and a gin-drinker's mastill", which turned out, 
greatly to the satisfaction of the mob, in 
favour of the mastitV. 

The spectacle, whicli allbrded higli enter- 
tainment, wiis at last eiuled by the appearance 
of one of the candidates, who came to 
harangue the mob : he made a very pathetic 
speech upon the late excessive importation of 
foreign drams, and the downfal of the dis- 
tillery : I could see some of the audience shed 
tears. He was accompanied in his procession 
by Mrs. Deputy and Mrs. Mayoress. Mrs. 
Deputy was not in the least in liquor; and 
as for Mrs. Mayoress, one of the spectators 
assured me in the ear, tliat '' she was a very 
fine womaji before she had the small-pox." 

Mi.ving with tlie crowd, I was now con- 
ducted to the hall where the magistriites are 
chosen; but what tongue can describe the 
scene of confusion! tlie whole crowd seemed 
ecjually inspired with anger, jealousy, politics, 
])atriotism, and ))unch ; 1 remarked one figure 
that was carried up by two men ujion this 
occasion. J at first began to jiity his infir- 
mities as natural ; but soon fouiul tiie fellow 
so <lriiiik tluit he could not stand: another 
made iiis a])))earance to give his vote ; but 
tiiougli he could stand, he actually lost the 
use of his tongue, and remained silent; a 
third, wiio, though excesdvely drunk, could 
both stand and si>eak, beiui^ asked the can- 



218 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



didate's name for wliom lie voted, could be 
prevailed upon to make no other answer but 
tobacco and Ijrandy. In short, an election- 
liall seems to be a theatre where every passion 



is seen without disguise; a school where 
fools may readily becoine worse, and where 
philosophers may gather wisdom. Adieu.' 



LKTTER CXIII. 



A LITERARY CONTEST OF GREAT IMPORTANCE, I 

From the 

The dis])utes among the learned here are 
now carried on in a much more compendious 
manner than formerly. There was a time 
when folio was brought to oppose folio, and 
a champion was often listed for life under 
the banners of a single sorites.^ At jiresent 
the controversy is decided in a summary way ; 
an epigram or an acrostic finishes the debate, 
and tlie combatant, like the incursive Tartar, 
advances and retires with a single blow. 

An important literary debate at present 
engrosses the attention of the town. It was 



1 Tliis account will reminil the reader of the iu- 
imitabli' prints of Hoiiarth, which stand nnrivall('<l 
for the truth and force with which they depict the 
incidents of an Enslish election. A !.'reat change has 
tnkcn place since the time of Hogarth and Goldsmith 
in the constituencies most accessible to corrupt in- 
fluence ; but until the trust reposed in an elector 
shall be regarded in a more solemn and responsible 
light than that in wliich it is too often viewed, we do 
not possess the main security against the recurrence — 
not perhaps of open riot— but of every species of ve- 
nality. Klectious were costly aliairs then, as thev 
have since been: and VValpole mentions that he was 
fold by a knowing lawyer that the Appleby election 
iu 1754 would cost above 55,000/., "with piirchasin" 
tenures, votes, and caiTving on the election and 
petition." 

2 Scarcely any portion of this letter is of interest 
at ^he present time, as it relates merely to some un- 
important squabbles in which t:hnrclu'll, the author 
of the ' Rosciad,' w.os the principal party concerned. 
This work w.-is a satire upon the theatrical performers 
and managers of the time. The critic who is repre- 
sented as coming to the author's assistance was 
Lloyd, a small poet aud a profligate man, son of Dr. 
Lloyd, a master of Westminster School. The other 
persons mentioned are Jacob, Johnson, aud Theo- 
bald ; the former of whom was a scholar, and wrote 
several plays. Johnson was a writer for the theatres, 
and is mentioned in the ' Punciad,' in which piece 
Tibbald or Theobald also figured. As an editor of 
Shakspere, however, Theobald had merits which 
Pope did not reach . 

3 An argiiment containing several prapositijns. 



N WHICH BOTH SIDES FIGHT BV E?IGR.\.M.2 

Same. 

carried on witli sharpness, and a proper share 
of this epigrammatical fury. An author, it 
seems, has taken an aversion to the faces of 
several ])layers. and has written verses to jirove 
his dislike : the players fall upon the author, 
and assure the town he must be dull, and 
their faces must be good, because he wants a 
dinner; a critic comes to the poet's assistance, 
asserting that the verses were perfectly ori- 
ginal, and so smart, that he could never have 
written them without the assistance of friends ; 
the friends upon this arraign the critic, and 
plainly prove the verses to be all the author's 
own. 8o at it they are all four together by 
the ears, the friends at the critic, the critic at 
the players, the players at the author, and 
the autlior at the jjlayers again. It is im- 
possible to determine how this many-sided 
contest will end, or wdiich party to adhere to. 
The town, without siding with any, views the 
combat in suspense, like the fabled hero of 
antifptity, who beheld the earth-born brothers 
give and receive mutual wounds, and fall 
by indiscriminate destruction. 

This is in some measure a state of the pre- 
sent dispute; but the combatants here differ 
in one respect from the champions of the 
fable. Every new wound only gives vigour 
for another blow ; though tliey appear to 
strike, they are in fact mutually swelling 
tliemselves into consideration, and thus adver- 
tising each other away into fame. " To-day,"' 
says one, "my name shall be in the Gazette, 
the next day my rivals ; people will naturally 
inquire about us; thus we shall at least make 
a noise in the streets, though we have got 
nothing to sell." I have read of a dispute of a 
similar nature, which was managed here about 
twenty years ago. Hildebrand .Jacob, as I 
think he was called, and Charles Johnson 
were poets, both at that time possessed of great 



A LITERARY CONTEST. 



2]9 



rei)utatioii. fur JuIuhoii hail written eleven 
])lays acted witli ijreat suecess, ami Jacol), 
tli(pni;li he had written hut live, liad five times 
thanked the town for their mnnerited aj)j)lanse. 
They soon In'oanie mutually enamoured of 
earh other's talents ; they wrote, they felt, they 
challentjeil tlie town for each other. .Tolnison 
assured tlie i)ul)lic that no jjoet alive had 
the eiLsy sinijplicity of Jacol),- and Jacob ex- 
hihiteil Johnson as a master-i)iece in the pa- 
thetic. Their mutual praise was not without 
ellect ; the town saw their plays, were in rap- 
tures, read, and, witiiout censuring them, for- 
got them. So fonnidalile an union, however, 
WJUssoon ojiposed l)y Tilihald. Tilihald as- 
serted that thetraifedies of one had faults, and 
the comedies of the other substituted wit for 
vivacity ; the combined champions Hew at 
liim like tiijers, arraigned the censurer"s judg- 
ment, and impeached his sincerity. It was 
a long time a dis])ute among tlie learned, 
which was in fact the greatest man, ,Iacob, 
Johnson, or Tibbald ; they had all written 
for the stage with great success, tlieir names 
were seen in almost every pa])er, and tlieir 
works in every coflee-liouse. However, in the 
hottest of the dispute, a fourth combatant made 
his a])pearance, and swejit away the three 
comiiatant-s. tragedy, comedy, and all into 
undistinguished ruin. 

From this time they seemed consigned info 
the hands of criticism; scarcely a day jiassed 
in which they were not arraigned ;is detested 
writers. The critics, those enemies of Dryden 
and Pope, were their enemies. So .lacob and 
Johnson, instead of mending by criticism, 
called it envy ; and because Dryden an(l 
PojH? were censured, they compared them- 
selves to Dryden and Po]je. 

Hut to return : the weapon chicny used in 
the present controversy is epigram, and cer- 
tainly never wasa keener made use of. They 
have discovered surprising sharpness on ])otli 
sides. The (irst that came out uj)on this 
occasion wasa kind of a new comjiosition in 
this way, and might more ])ro])erly be called 
an e])igramniatic thesis than an epigram. 
Jt consists, lirst, of an argument in prose; 
next follows a motto from Roscommon; then 
comes the ei)igrain ; a'ld, lastly, notes serving 
to explain the epigram. Hut you shall have 
it with all its decorations. 



AN EPIGRAM 



AllDllESSEO TO TIlKOKNri.FMKNnKrr.FCTKD ox IN THE 
' llOSCIAl),' A PUEM IIV THE ALTHOK. 

ft'irri/'il irith dvbts, and past all hopes itfbai/, 
Jli< pen lie prustitutes t' ttvoida gaul. — KoscoM. 

" Let not tlie AKH7i7/n:ivius'.\iii.'ry stroke 
Awake n-sciitini'Ut. orjour rauc lu-ovokr ; 
lliit i)ityiu;,' his dislri'ss, let viniii' ' sliiiic, 
Aiuli;iviii^' ciu-li your liounly, ^ let liim dine; 
For thus retaiu'il, :is U'arnctl counsel cm, 
Hach case, howi-ver bad, he'll new japan; 
And liy a ([uick transition plainly show 
'Twas no (lel'ect of yours, \n\i pucliet line. 
That caused his putrid liennei to o'erllow ." 

The last lines are certainly executed in a 
very masterly manner. It is of that sjiecies 
(if argumentation called the jierplexing. It 
elVectiially llings the antagonist into a mist : 
there is no answering it : the laugh is raised 
against him, while he is endeavouring to find 
out the jest. At once he shows that the 
author has a kennel, and that this kennel is 
jmtrid, and that this jiutrid kennel overflows. 
But why does it overflow? It overflows be- 
cause the author happens to have low pockets! 

There was also another new attempt in this 
way ; a prosaic epigram, which came out 
upon this occasion. This is so full of mat- 
ter, that a critic might split it into fifteen 
epigrams, each properly fitted with its sting. 
Vou shall see it. 

TO O. C. AND B. L.3 

'"Twas yon, <ir I, or he, or all toi:ether, 

'Twas one, both, three of them, they know not 

whether. 
Tills I believe, between us s;rcat or small. 
You, I, lie, w rote it not— 'twiis Chuichill's all." 

There, there is a ]ier]ilex ! I could have 
wished, to make it cpiite jierfect, tlie author, 
as in the case liefore, had added notes. Al- 
most every word admits a s<-holiiim, and a 
long one too. I, VOU, HE! Suppose a 
stranger should ask, And who are you ? 
Here are three obscure persons sjioken of, that 
may in a short time lie utterly forgotten. 
Their names should have consequently been 
mentioned in notes at the bottom. But when 



' Chaiily. (A.l 

2 Settled' at one sliilliuij, the prii-e of the poem. 
(A.) 
^ George Colmaii and Robert Llo\d. 



220 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



the reader comes to the great aiul snutll, tlie 
maze is iiu'xtiicable. Here the stniuj^er may 
dive for a mystery, without ever reaching 
the bottom. Let him know, that small is a 
word jnirely introduced to make good rhyme, 
and great was a very proper word to keep 
small company. 

Yet by being thus a spectator of other's 
dangers, I must own I begin to tremble 
in this literary contest for my own. I begin 
to fear that my challenge to Doctor Rock 
was unadvised, and has procured me more 
antagonists than I had at fbst expected. 
I have received private letters from several of 
the literati here that fill my soul with appre- 
hension. I may safely aver, that / never gave 



aiiij creature in this good rifi/ o fence, except 
only my rival Doctor Rock ; yet by the 
letters I every day receive, and by some I 
have seen printed, 1 am arraigned at one 
time as being a dull fellow, at another as 
being pert ; I am here petulant, there I am 
heavy : by the head of my ancestors, they 
treat me with more inhumanity than ailying- 
fish. If I dive and run my nose to the bot- 
tom, there a devodring shark is ready to 
swallow me up ; if I skim the surface, a pack 
of doljdiius are at my tail to snap me; but 
when I take wing, and attempt to escape 
them by flight, I become a prey to every 
ravenous l)ird that wiimows the bosom of the 
deep. Adieu. 



LETTER CXIV 



AGAINST THE MARRIAGE ACT — A FABLE. 
From the Sa?ne. 



The formalities, delays, and disapjiointments 
that precede a treaty of marriage here are 
usually as numerous as those previous to a 
treaty of peace. The laws of this country 
are finely calculated to ])romote all com- 
merce but the commerce l)etween the sexes. 
Their encouragements for pro])agating hemp, 
madder, and tobacco, are indeed admirable! 
Marriages are the only commodity that meet 
with none. 

Yet from the vernal softness of the air, the 
verdure of the fields, the transparency of the 
streams, and the beauty of the women, I 
know few countries more proper to invite to 
courtshi)). Here Love might sport among 
painted lawns and warbling groves, and revel 
upon gales, wafting at once both fragrance 
and harmony. Yet it seems he has forsaken 
the island ; and when a couple are now to be 
married, mutual love, or a union of minds, 
is tlie last and most trifling consideration. 
If their goods and chattels can be brouglit to 
unite, their sympathetic souls are ever ready 
to guarantee the treaty. The gentleman's 
mortgaged lawn becomes enamoured of the 
lady's marriageable grove ; the match is 



struck up, and both parties are piously in 
love — according to act of parliament. 

Thus they who have fortune are possessed 
at least of something that is lovely ; but I 
actually pity those that have none. I am 
told there was a time when ladies, with no 
other merit but youth, virtue, and beauty, 
had a chance for husbands, at least among 
the ministers of the chiucli or the officers of 
the army. The blush and iimocence of six- 
teen was said to have a powerful influence 
over these two professions. But, of late, all 
the little traflicof blushing, ogling, dimpling, 
and smiling, has been forbidden by an act, 
in that case wisely made and provided. A 
lady's whole cargo of smiles, sighs, and whis- 
pers, is declared contraband, till she arrives 
in the warm latitude of twenty-two, where 
commodities of this nature are too often found 
to decay. She is then permitted to dimple 
and smile, wiien thedimjiles and smiles begin 
to forsake her; and when perhaps grown 
ugly, is charitably entrusted with an un- 
limited use of her charms. Her lovers, how- 
ever, by this time have forsaken her ; the 
captain has changed for another mistress; the 



AGAINSiT THE MARRIAGE ACT. 



221 



jiriost hims«»l f leaves her in solitude to bewail 
lipr virginity, and she dies even without 
LeiR'lit ol" clergy. 

Thus you find tlie Kurojieans discouraging 
love with ;xs much earnestness as the rudest 
savage of Sol'ala. The genius is surely now 
no more. In every region I lind enemies in 
anns to o])press him. Avarice in Eurojie, 
jealousy in Persia, ceremony in China, poverty 
among tlie Tartars, and lust in (Jircassia, are 
all prepared to oppose his power. TheCienins 
is certainly banished from earth, though once 
adored under such a variety of forms. He 
is nowhere to be found ; anil all that the 
ladies of each country can produce, are but 
a few triding relics as instances of his former 
resilience and favour. 

The Genius of Love, says the Eastern 
Ajwlogue, had long resided in the hapjiy 
plains of Abra, where every breeze was health, 
and every sound produced tranquillity. His 
temple at first was crowded; but every age 
lessened the number of his votaries or cooled 
their devotion. Perceiving, therefore, his 
altars at length quite deserted, he was resolved 
to remove to some more propitious region, 
and he apprised the fair sex of every country, 
where he could hope for a proper reception, 
to £issert their riglit to his presence among 
them. In return to this ])roclamation, em- 
bassies were sent from the ladies of every part 
of the world to invite him, and to display the 
sujwriority of their claims. 

And first the beauties of China appeared. 
No country could compare with them for 
modesty, either of look, dress, or behaviour; 
their eyes were never lifted from tlie ground ; 
their rubes of the most l(eautiful silk hid their 
hanils, bosom, and neck, while their faces 
only were left uncovered.' They indulged no 
airs that might exj)ress loose desire, and they 
seemed to study only the graces of inanimate 
beauty. Tlieir black teeth and ])lucked eye- 
brows were, however, alleged i)y the (j'enius 
against them ; but he si-t them entirely aside 
wlieii he came to examine tlieir little feet. 
The beauties of Circassia next maile their 

' Tliu iUci!i of fomalos in China is rumarknljlu fur 
iU cxUc-mu niixli'stv. Mr. Davis tiiiys :— " Wliat we 
oftfU clioosf to call dress they wuuUl ri'nard as al)- 
Roliito nullity, and all close litlinv' to the blia^'u as 
only di^iilayiag what it afiucts tu conceal." 



appearance. They advanced hand-in-hand, 
singing the most immodest airs, and leading 
up a dance in the most luxurious all itiides. 
Their dress was but half a covering; the 
neck, the left breast, and all the limbs were 
exposed to view, which after sometime seemed 
rather to satiate than iidlanie desire. The 
lily and the rose contended in I'urming their 
complexions: and a soft sleepiness of eye 
added irrcsistilile poignance to their charms : 
l)ut tlieir beauties were obtruded, not ollered 
to their admirers ; they seemed to give rather 
than receive courtship ; and the (lenius of 
Love dismissed them as unworthy his regard, 
since they exchanged the duties of love, and 
made themselves not the pursued but the 
pursuing sex. 

The kingdom of Kashniire next produced 
its charming deputies. This happy region 
seemed peculiarly sequestered by nature for 
his abode. Shady mountains fenced it on 
one side from the scorching sun ; and sea- 
born breezes on the other gave peculiar luxu- 
riance to the air. Their cnniijlexions were 
of a bright yellow, that appeared almost trans- 
parent, while the crimson tulip seemed to blos- 
som on their cheeks. Their features and 
limbs were delicate beyond the statuary's 
power to express ; and their teeth whiter than 
their own ivory. He was almost j)ersuaded 
to reside among them, when unfortunately 
ore of the ladies talked of appointing his 
seraglio. 

In this procession the naked inhabitants 
of Soutli America would not be lei't beiiind ; 
their charms were found to surpass whatever 
the warmest imagination could conceive ; and 
served to show that beauty could be perfect 
even with the seeming disadvantage of a 
brown complexion. IJut their savage edu- 
cation rendered them utterly unqualilicd to 
make the projier use of their jiuwer, and they 
were rejected as being incaj^abk- of uniting 
mental with sensual satisfaction. In this 
manner the deputies of other kingdoms had 
their suits rejected; the black beauties of 
Heniii, and tiie tawny daughters of llorneo; 
the women of Wida with well-searreil faces, 
and the hideous virgins of Cal'raria; the 
S(|uab ladies of La])land tliree feet high, aiid 
the giant fair ones of Patagonia. 

Tlie beauties of Europe at last ajjpcorcd : 



222 



CITIZEN or THE WORLD. 



grace was in their steps and sensihility sat 
smiling in every eye. It was the universal 
opinion while they were approaching that 
they would prevail; and the Genius seemed 
to lend them his most favourahle attention. 
They opoied their pretensions with the ut- 
most modesty ; but unfortunately, as their ora- 
tor proceeded, she happened to let fall the 
words house in town, xet/leme/it, and pin-mo- 
ney. These seemingly harmless terms had 
instantly a surprising ell'ect : the Genius Avith 
ungovernable rage burst from amidst tlie 
circle, and waving his youthful pinions, left 
this earth, and ilew liack to those ethereal 
mansions from wliichhe descended. 

The whole assembly was struck witli 
amazement: they now justly apprehended 
that female power would be no more, since 
Love had forsaken them. They continued 
some time thus in a state of torpid despair, 



when it was proposed by one of tlie number 
that, since the real Genius had left them, in 
order to continue their power, they should 
set up an idol in his stead; and that the 
ladies of every country should furnish him 
with what each liked best. This proposal 
was instantly relished and agreed to. An 
i<lol was formed by uniting the capricious 
gifts of all the assembly, though no way 
resembling the departed genius. Tlie ladies 
of China furnished the monster with wings; 
tliose of Kashmire supplied him with horns; 
the dames of Europe clapped a purse in 
his hand ; and the virgins of Congo fur- 
nished him with a tail. Since that time, all 
tlie vows addressed to Love are in reality paid 
to the idol : but, as in other false religions, the 
adoration seems most fervent where the heart 
is least sincere. Adieu. 



LETTER CXV. 



ON THE DANGER OF HAVING TOO HIGH AN OPINION OF HUMAN NATURE. 

From th-; Same. 



]\Iankind have ever been prone to expatiate 
in the praise of human nature. The dignity 
of man is a subject that has always been the 
favourite theme of humanity : they have de- 
claimed with that ostentation which usually 
accompanies suchas aresureof having apar- 
tial audience; they have obtained victories 
because there were none to oppose. Yet from 
all I have ever read or seen, men appear more 
apt to err by having too high, than by having 
too despicable an oi)inion of their nature ; and 
by attempting to exalt their original place in 
the creation, depress their real value in so- 
ciety. 

The most ignorant nations liave always 
been found to think most highly of them- 
selves. The Deity has ever been tliought 
peculiarly concerned in their glory and pre- 
servation ; to have fought their battles and 
insjiired their teachers; their wizards are said 
to be familiar with heaven ; and every hero 
has a guard of angels as well as men to attend 
him. When the Portuguese first came 
among the wretched inhabitants of the coast 



of Africa, these savage nations readily al- 
lowed the strangers more skill in navigation 
and war ; yet still considered them at best 
but as useful servants, brought to their coast 
by tlieir guardian serpent to supply them 
with luxuries they could have lived without. 
Thougli they could grant the Portuguese 
more riches, they could never allow them to 
have such a king as their Totfimondelem, 
who wore a bracelet of shells round his neck, 
and 'whose legs were covered with ivory. 

In this manner, examine a savage in the 
history of his connh-y and predecessors ; you 
ever find his warriors able to conquer armies, 
and his sages acquainted with more than 
possible knowledge : human nature is to him 
an unknown countrj- ; he thinks it capable of 
great things, because he is ignorant of its 
lioundaries; whatever can be conceived to be 
done he allows to be possible, and whatever 
is possible he conjectures must have been done. 
He never measures the actions and powers of 
others by whathe himself is able to perform, nor 
makes a proper estimate of the greatness of his 



P.VNOF.R OF II.VVIXG TOO HIGH AX OPIXIOX OF IIIMAX XATUKE. 225 



fi'llows liy l.riiij^iiig it to tlie staiuUiid ot' his 
own iiicajiacity. Ho is satisfied to l)0 one of 
a country wlit-re niii^lity tlrn^js liavo ln'cn ; 
and iniajrinos tlie lancit'd powers of otliors 
nflfct a lustre on liimself. Tims, liy de- 
grees, he loses the idea of his own insifjnilicance 
in a confused notion of the extraordinary 
powers of humanity, anil is willing to grant 
extraordinary gifts to every jiretender, because 
unacquainted with tlieir claims. 

This is the reason w hy demi-gods and heroes 
have ever lieen erected in times or countries of 
ignorance and l)arl)arity ; they addressed a 
people who had high opinions of human 
nature, because they were ignorant liow far 
it could extend ; they addressed a peojile 
who were willjng to allow that mco should he 
gods, because tliey were yet imperfectly ac- 
quainted with God and w itli man. These 
inijiostors knew tliat all men were naturally 
fond of seeing sometiiing very great made from 
the little materials of humanity ; that ignorant 
nations are not more proud of building a tower 
to reach heaven, or a pyramid to last for 
ages, than of raising up a denii-god of their 
own country and creation. The same ])rlde 
that erects a colossus or a pyramid installs a 
god or a hero ; but thougli the adoring savage 
can raise his colossus to the clouds, he can 
exalt the hero not one inch above the standard 
of humanity; incaj)able, therefore, of exalting 
the iilol, he debases liimself and falls prostrate 
before him. 

AN'hen man has thus acquired an erroneous 
idea of the dignity of his species, he an<l the 
gods in-come perfectl)' intimate ; men are but 
angels, angels are l)ut men, nay but servants 
that stand in waiting to execute human com- 
mands. The Persians, for instance, thus 
address their proj)het Haly. " I salute thee, 
glorious Creator '. of whom the sun is but the 
shadow. Master-piece of the I^ord of human 
creatures! Ci real Star of Justice and Reli- 
gion ! The sea is not rich anil liberal but liy 
the gifts of thy munilicent hands. The 
angel treasurer of heaven reajjs his harvest in 
the fertile gardens of ttie ])arity of thy nature. 
Theprinnini mobile would never <lart the ball 
of the sun through the trunk of heaven, were 
it not to serve the morning out of the exlreme 
love siie has for tlice. The angel Gabriel, 



messenger of truth, every day kisses the 
groundsel of tliy gate. Were there a ])lace 
more exalted tlian the most high throne of 
(iod. I woulil allirm it to lie tiiy iihice. () 
master of the faithful I (iabriel, witii all his 
art and knowledge, is but a mere scholar to 
thee."' Thus, my friend, men think proper 
to treat angels ; but if indeed there be such 
an order of beings, witli what a degree of 
satirical contempt must tliey listen to the 
songs of little mortals thus flattering each 
other! Thus to see creatures, wiser indeed 
than tlie monkey, and more active than the 
oyster, claiming to themselves the mastery of 
heaven ; mininis, the tenants of an atom, thus 
arrogating a partnership in the creation of 
universal heaven! Surely heaven is kind 
tliat launcliesno thunder at those guiltj-lieads; 
but it is kind, and regards tlieir follies with 
pity, nor will destroy creatures that it loved 
into being. 

Rut wliateversucccssthispractice of making 
dcmi-gods might have been attended with in 
barbarous nations, I do not know that any 
man became a god in a country where tlie 
inhabitants were refined. Such countries 
generally have too close an inspection inta 
human weakness to think it invested with 
celestial power. They sometimes, indeed, 
admit the gods of strangers, or of their ances- 
tors, whicli had their existence in times of 
obscurity; their weakness being forgotten, 
while nothing but their power and tlieir mi- 
racles were rememliered. The Chinese, for 
instance, never had a god of their own coun- 
try ; the idols which the vulgar worship at 
this day were brought I'rom the barbarous 
nations around tliem. The Uomaii emjierors, 
who ])retended to divinity, were generally 
taught by a poniard that tiiej' were mortal ; 
and Alexander, though he jiassed among 
barbarous countries for a real god, could 
ne\ cr jiersuade his polite countrymen into a 
similitude of thinking. The Lacedemonians 
siirewdly complied with his coiiiman<ls Ijy 
the following sarcastic edict: 

E( AXs|«vJ»aj fist/Xtrai inai Qi'>;, Q'.o; le-ru. 

Adieu. 

1 CharUiu's Travels, p. 402 (A.) 



224 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



LETTER CXVL 

WHETHER LOVE BE A NATURAL OR A FICTITIOUS PASSION. 

From the Same. 



There is soinething irresistibly pleasing in 
Ihe conversation of a tine woman ; even though 
her tongue he silent, the eloquence of her eyes 
teaches wisdom. The mind sympathises with 
the regularity of the object in view, and, 
struck with external grace, vibrates into re- 
spondent harmony. In this agreeable dispo- 
sition 1 lately found myself in company with 
my friend and his niece. Our conversation 
turned upon love, which she seemed equally 
capable of defending and inspiring. We 
were each of different oijinions upon this sub- 
ject ; the lady insisted that it was a natural 
and universal passion, and produced the 
happiness of those who cultivated it with 
proper precaution. My friend denied it to 
be the \vork of nature, but allowed it to have 
a real existence, and atlirmed that it was of in- 
finite service in refining society ; while I, to 
keep up the dispute, atlirmed it to be merely 
a name, first used by tlie cunning part of the 
fair sex, and admitted by the silly part of ours, 
therefore no way more natural than taking 
snuff, or chewing opium. 

" How is it possible," cried I, '' that such 
a passion can be natural, when our opinions 
even of beauty, which inspires it, are entirely 
the result of fashion and caprice? The an- 
cients, v/ho pretend to be connoisseurs in the 
art, ha\e praised narrow foreheads, red hair, 
and eyebrows that joined eacli other above the 
nose. Such were the charms that once cap- 
tivated Catullus, Ovid, and Anacreon. 
Ladies would at present be out of humour if 
their lovers praised tliem for such graces ; and 
should an antique beauty now revive, her face 
would certainly be put under tlie discipline of 
the tweezer, forehead-cloth, and lead-cumb, 
before it could be seen in jmblic company. 

" But the difference between the ancients 
and moderns is not so great as between the 
difi'erent countries of the present world. A 
lover of.Gongora, for instance, sighs for thick 
lips ; a Chinese lover is poetical in praise of 
thin. In Circassia a straight nose is thought 
most consistent with beauty; cross but a 



mountain which separates it from the Tartars, 
and tliere flat noses, tawny skins and eyes 
three inches asunder, are all the fashion. In 
Persia, and some other countries, a man, 
when he marries, chooses to have his bride a 
maid ; in the Philippine islands, if a bride- 
groom happens to perceive on the first night 
that he is put off with a virgin, the marriage 
is declared void to all intents and purposes, 
and the bride sent back with disgrace. In 
some parts of the East, a ^voman of beauty, 
properly fed up for sale, often amounts to lOU i 
crowns; in the kingdom of Loango, ladies of 
the very best fashion are sold for a pig ; queen-;, 
however, sell better, and sometimes amount tn 
a cow. In short, turn even to England, dn 
not I there see tlie beautiful part of the sex 
neglected ; and none now marrying or making; 
love but old men or old women that have 
saved money? Do not I see beauty from 
fifteen to twenty-one rendered imll and void 
to all intents and purposes, and those six pre- 
cious years of womanhood put under a statuir 
of virginity? \Miat! shall I call that ranciii 
passion love which passes between an old 
bachelor of fifty-six and a widow lady of 
forty-nine? Never! never! What advantage 
is society to reap from an intercourse where 
the big belly is oftenest on the man's side ? 
Would any persuade me that such a passion 
was natural, uidess the human race were more 
fit for love as they approached the decline, 
and, like silk-worms, became breeders just 
before they exjiired?' 

'' Whetlier love be natural or no," replied my 
friend, gravely, "it contributes to the happi- 
ness of every society into which it is introduced. 
All our pleasures are sliort, and can only 
charm at intervals: love is a method of ])ro- 
tracting our greatest ])leasure; and surely that 
gamester who plays the greatest stake to the 
best advantage will, at the end of life, rise vic- 
torious. This was the opinion of Vaniiii,' who 



' Vaniiii, an Italian priest, was burnt at TouIcuSl; 
in 1619, fur liis avowal of atheistical oiiiuions. 



■\VIIKTIiEU I,OVE VE A NATlTvAL OR FICTITIOUS TASSIOX. 



325 



affirmed that rifri/ hour teas lust which was not 
spent in love. His accusers wore viii.iMf to com- 
prelicnd liis nieaniiij^, and the p'lor advocate for 
love was burned in tlanies, alas! no way 
mct,i])horical. But wliatever advantages tlie 
in<lividual may rea])l'rom this ]),ission, society 
will certainly be rclined ami improved by its 
introduction: all laws calculated to discou- 
rage it tend to embrute the species and weaken 
the state. Tliough it canmit ])lant morals in 
the human breiist, it cultivates them when 
tliere : pit v. generosity, and honour, receive a 
brigliter p>)lish from its assistance; and a sin- 
gle amour is sufficient entirely to brush off 
the clown. 

'• Hut it is an exotic of the most delicate 
constitution; it requires the greatest art to in- 
troduce it into a state, and the smallest dis- 
couragement is sufficient to repress it again. 
I^t U3 oidy consider with wliat ease it was 
formerly extinguished in Home. ,nui witli wliat 
difficidty it was lately revived in Europe: it 
seemed to sleep for ages, and at last fought its 
way among us through tilts, tournaments, 
dragons, and all the dreams of chivalry. The 
rest of the world, China only e.xcepted, are 
and liave ever been utter strangers to its 
delights and advantages. In other countries, 
as men find tliemselves stronger than woman, 
they lay claim to a rigorous superiority : this 
is natural, and love which gives up this na- 
tural advantage must certainly be the efl'ect 
of art. An art calculated to lengthen out our 
liappier moments, and add new graces to 
society. 

" I entirely acquiesce in your sentiments," 
says the lady, " with regard to the advantages 



of this passion, but cannot avoid giving it 
a noliler origin than you have been i)h'asiMl t(» 
assign. I must think that those countries 
where it is rejected are obliged to liave recourse 
to art to stille so natural a jiroductioii, and 
those nations where it is cultivated only makt; 
nearer advances to nature. The same ellorts 
that are used in some places to sujjpicss pity, 
and other natural passions, may have been 
employed to extinguish love. No nation, 
however unpolished, is remarkable for inno- 
cence that is not fauious for passion; it ha> 
flourislied in the coldest as well as the warmest 
regions. Even in the sultry wilds of Smitheni 
America the lover is not satisfied with jios- 
sesiing his mistress's person without having 
her mind. 

In .ill my Enna's beauties blessM 
Amiilst |>rol'asiaii still I piiu-, 

Forth )u;,'h she gives me up her breast 
ltd I'auting tenant is not mine.' 

'* But the effects of love are too violent to 
be the result of an artificial passion. Nor is 
it in the power of fashion to force the consti- 
tution into those changes whicli we every day 
observe. Several have died of it. Few lovers 
are unacquainted with tlie fate of the two 
Italian lovers, DaCorsinand Julia Bellamano, 
who, after a long separation, ex])ired with 
pleasure in each other's arms. Such instances 
are too strong confirmations of the reality of 
the passion, and serve to show, tliatsu])pressing 
it is luit opposing tlie natural dictates of the 
heart.'' Adieu. 

1 Traasla'.ioQ of a South Americaa OJe. (A.) 



2'2C 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



^^^ 




[London a( Night, in the year 1760.] 



LETTER CXVII. 

A CITV NIGHT PIECE. 
From the Same. 



The clock just struck two, the expiring taper 
risesuiid sinks in the socket ; the watchman 
forgets the hour in slumber ; the laborious and 
the happy are at rest, atid nothing wakes but 
meditation, guilt, revelry, and despair. The 
drunkard once more tills the destroying bowl ; 
the robber walks his midnight round ; and the 
auicide lifts his guilty arm against his own 
sacred person. 

Let me no longer waste the night over the 
page of antiquity, or the sallies of contempo- 
rary genius ; but pursue tlie sjlitary walk 
where Vanity, ever changing, but a few hours 



past walked before me, where she kept up the 
pageant, and now, like a froward child, seeui- 
hushed with her own importunities. 

What a gloom hangs all around! the dyiir.,' 
lamp feebly emits a yellow gleain ; no sound 
is heard but of the chiming clock or the dis- 
tant watch-dog. All the bustle of human 
pride is forgotten ; an h nir like this may woU 
display the emptiness of human vanity. 

There will come a time when this tempo- 
rary solitude may be made continual, and 
the city itself, like its inhabitants, fade 
away, and leave a desert in its room. 



MEANNKSS OF THE DUTCH AT THE COURT OF JAPAX. 



227 



What cities as great as this have once 
lrium|ihoil in existence, had their victories as 
great, joy ;isjust and as unbounded, and with 
short -sis^hled presumption promised themselves 
immortality! Posterity can hardly trace the 
situation of some. The sorrowful traveller 
wanders over the awful ruins of others; and 
as he beholds he le.irns wisdom, and feels 
ihe transcience of every sublunary possession. 

Here, he cries, stood their citadel, now 
grown over with w eeds ; there their senate- 
house, but now the haunt of every noxious 
leptile; temples and theatres stood here, now 
only an undistinguished heap of ruin. They 
are fallen, for luxury and avarice lirst made 
them feeble. The rewards of the state were 
conferred on amusing, and not on useful 
members of society. Their riches and opu- 
lence invited the invaders, who, though at 
first repulsed, returned again, conquered by 
jwrseverance, and at last swept the defendants 
into undistinguished destruction. 

How few appear in those streets which but 
some few hours ago were crowded : and those 
who appear now no longer wear their daily 
mask, nor attempt to hide their lewdness or 
their misery. 

But who are those who make the streets 
their couch, and find a short repose from 
wretchedness, at the doors of the opulent? 
These are strangers, wanderers, and orjiluins, 
whose circumstances are too humble to expect 
redress, and whose distresses are too great even 



for jiity. Their wretchedness excites r.ither 
horror than pity. Some are without the cover- 
ing even of rags, ami others emaciated with 
disease; the world has disclaimed them; 
society turns its back upon their distress, and 
has given them up to nakedness and hunger. 
These poor shivering females have once seen 
hap])ier days, and been flattered into beauty. 
They have been prostituted to the gay luxu- 
rious villain, and are now turned out to me.'t 
the severity of winter. Perhaps, now lying 
at the doors of their betrayers, they sue to 
wretches whose hearts are insensible, or de- 
bauchees who may curse but will not relieve 
them. 

Why, why was I born a man, and yet see 
tlie sutl'erings of wr tches I caiuiot relieve! 
Poor houseless creatures! the world will give 
j'ou rejjruaches but will not give you relief. 
The slightest misfortunes of the great, the 
most imaginary uneasiness of the rich, are 
aggravated with all the jiower of eloquence, 
and held up to engage our attention and sym- 
])athetic sorrow. The poor weep unheeded, 
jiersecuted by every sul)ordiiiate species of 
tyranny; and every law which gives others 
security becomes an enemy to them. 

Why was this heart of mine formed with 
so much sensibility! or why was not my 
fortune adapted to its impulse ! Tenderness, 
without a caj)acity of relieving, only makes 
the man who feels it more wretched than the 
oljject which sues for assistance. Adieu. 



LETTER C.WIII. 



ON THE MEANNESS OP THE DL'TCH AT TllK COURT OK JAl'AN. 
Fttm Hoam In l.ien Chi Allanrfi, Ihe Discontented Wanderer, by the way of J\lotcotv. 



I HAVE been just sent upon an eml)assy to 
Ja|ian : my commission is to ije desjjafched 
in four days, and you can hardly conceive the 
pleasure 1 shall (ind upon revisiting my native 
country. I shall leave with joy this proud, 
barljurous, iiiliosjjitable region, where every 
object conspires to diminish my satisfaction 
and increase my |)atriiitibin. 

But though 1 lind the inhabitants savage, 
yet the Dutch merchantti who are permitted 



to trade hither seem still more detesf-ible.' 
They have raised my dislike to Europe in 
general ; by them I learn how low avarice 
can degrade human nature; how many in- 
dignities an European will sull'er for gain. 
1 was present at an audience given by the 



1 Golilsmitti appeari to have ciit<'rtaiued sometliin;,' 
like an anlipulliy to llio Dutt-h, or at loaiit a Tcry 
i>lron^4 Iiiijiijicc. 

a 2 



228 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



emperor to tUc Dutch envoj', who had sent 
several presents to all the courtiers some days 
previous to his admission ; but he was obliged 
to attend those designed for the emperor him- 
self. From the accounts I had heard of tliis 
ceremon)-, my curiosity prompted me to be a 
spectator of the whole. 

First went the presents, set out on beautiful 
enamelled tables, adorned witli flowers, borne 
on men's shoulders and followed by Japanese 
music and dancers. From so great respect 
paid to the gifts themselves, I had fancied 
the donors must have received almost divine 
honours. But about a quarter of an hour 
after the presents had been carried in triumjih, 
the envoy and his train were brought forward. 
They were covered from bead to foot with 
long black veils, which prevented their seeing, 
each led by a conductor chosen from the 
meanest of the people. In this dishonourable 
manner, having traversed the city of Jedo, 
they at length arrived at the palace gate, and 
after waiting half an houi', were admitted 
into the guard-room. Here their eyes were 
imcovered, and in about an hour the gentle- 
man-usher introduced them into the hall of 
audience. Tlic emperor was at length shown, 
sitting in a kind of alcove at the upper end of 
the room, and the Dutch envoy was conducted 
towards tlie throne. 

As soon as he had approached within a 
certain distance, the gentleman-usher cried 
out with a loud voice, Holitnda Capitan ; 
upon these words the envoy fell flat upon the 
ground, and crept upon his hands and feet 
towards the throne. Still approacliing, he 
reared himself on his knees, and tlien bowed 
his forehead to the ground. These ceremo- 
nies being over, he was directed to withdraw, 
still grovelling on his belly, and going back- 
ward like a lol)ster.' 



1 KcEmiifer's account is as follows: — " Our resi- 
dent was received iuto the emperor's presence, when 
tlioy all cried out Hollnnrlc Cnptnin, wliicli was the 
tii^nal for liimto draw near and make liis obeisances. 
Accordingly lie crawled on his hands and knees to a 
place shown him between the presents duly ranged 
on one side and the place wliere the emperor sat on 
the otlier, and then kneeling, lie bowed his forehead 
quite to the giound, and so crawled bac'v wards lilce 
a crab* without uttering one single word. So mean 

• Neither a lobster, .as mentioned by Goldsmith, 
nor a crab, moves Ijack wards. 



Men must be excessively fond of riclicj 
when they are earned with such circum- 
stances of abject submission. Do the Euro- 
])eans worship heavea itself with marks of 
more profound respect ? Do they confer 
those honours on the supreme of Beings which 
they pay to a barbarous king, who gives them 
a permission to purchase trinkets and porce- 
lain? What a glorious exchange, to forfeit 
their national honour, and even their title to 
humanity, for a screen or a sn\itT-box! 

If these ceremonies, essayed in the first 
audience, appeared mortifying, those which 
are practised in the second are infinitely more 
so. In the second audience, the emperor and 
ladies of court w ere placed behind lattices in 
sucli a manner as to see without being seen. 
Here all the Europeans were directed to pass 
in review, and grovel and act the serpent as 
before : with tliis spectacle the whole court 
seemed higldy delighted. The strangers were 
asked a thousand ridiculous questions; as 
their names, and their ages : they were or- 
dered to write, to stand upright, to sit, to 
stop, to compliment each other, to be drunk, 
to speak the .Tajianese language, to talk Dutch, 
to sing, to eat ; in short, they were ordered to 
do all that could satisfy the curiosity of the 
women. 

Imagine, my dear Altangi, a set of grave 
men thus transformed into buffoons, and act- 
ing a part every whit as honourable as that of 
those instructed animals which are shown in 
the streets of Pekin to the mob on a holiday. 



and short a thing is the audience we h.ave of this 
mighty monarch. Nor is there any difieronce to the 
greatest prince of the empire.— Our second audience : 
the mutual compliments being over, we were asked 
a thousand ridiculous and impertinent questions. 
The emperor, who had hitherto sat among tlie ladies, 
now drew to us; he ordered us to take ofi our cloaks 
of ceremony, then to stand up that he might have a full 
view of us; again to walk — to stand still— to compli- 
ment each otlier— to dance — to jump — to play the 
drunkard— to sieak broken .T.apanese— to read Dutch 
— to paint — to sing— to put our cloaks on and off. 
Meanwliile we obeyed the emperor's commands, and 
I joined to my dancea love-song in High German In 
tliis manner, with innumerable such other apish tricks, 
we must suffer ourselves to contribute to the emperor's 
and the court's diversion. The ambassador is free from 
this and the like eommauds, for as he represents the 
authority of his masters, such care is taken that 
nothing should be done to injure or prejudice the 
same." 



DISTRESSES OF THE TOOR EXEMPLIFIED. 



229 



Yet the ceremony did not end here, for every 
great lord of the court w;is to he visited in 
the same manner ; and their ladies, who took 
the whim from their hushanils, were all 
equally fond of seeing the stran;;ers perform ; 
even the children seemed higlily diverted witli 
the dancing Dutchmen. 

Alas ! cried 1 to myself, upon returning 
from such a spectacle, is this the nation which 
assumes such dignity at the court of Pekin ? 
Is this that i)eople that appear so proud at 
l)ome, and in every country where they have 
the least authority ! How does a love of gain 
transform the gravest of mankind into the 
most contemptible and ridiculous! I had 
rather continue poor all my life than become 
rich at such a rate. Perish those riches which 
are acquired at the expense of my honour or 



my humanity. Let nic quit, said I, a counfrj' 
where there are none hut such as treat all 
others like slaves, anil more detesiahle still 
in sulVcring such treatment. I have seen 
enough of this nation to desire to see more of 
others. Let me leave a people suspicious 
to excess, whose morals are corrupted, and 
equally debased by superstition and vice ; 
where the sciences are left uncultivated ; 
where the great are slaves to the prince, and 
tyrants to the people ; where the women are 
chaste only when debarred of tlie power of 
transgressions ; where the true discijiles of 
Confucius are not less persecuted than 
those of Christianity : in a word, a country 
where men are forbidden to think, and con- 
sequently labour under the most miserable 
slavery, — that of mental servitude. Adieu. 



L E T T K R CXIX. 



ON THE DISTRESSES OF THE POOU E.XEMPLIFIED IN THE LIFE OF A COMMON SOLDIER. 

Ffom Lien Chi Allangi to Film Iloam. first president of the Ceremonial Academy at Pekin, in 

China, 



The misfortunes of the great, my friend, are 
held up to engage our attention, are eidarged 
upon in tones of declamation, and the world 
is called upon to gaze at the noble sufferers ; 
they have at once the comfort of admiration 
and pity. 

Vet where is tlio magnanimity of licaring 
misfortunes when the whole world is looking 
on '? men in such circumstances can act 
bravely even from motives of vanitj-. He 
only who, in the vale of obscurity, can brave 
adversity, who, without friends to encourage, 
acquaint. iiices to l)ity, or even without hope 
to alleviate his distresses, can beliave with 
tranquillity and iiidilVcrence, is truly great ; 
whether jiexsant or courtier, he deserves admi- 
ration, and should be held up for our imita- 
tion and respect. 

The miseries of the poor are, however, 
iiitirely disregardetl ; though some undergo 
more real hardships in one day than the 
great in their whole lives. It is indeed in- 
conceivable what dilliculties the meanest 
English sailor or soldier endures without 



murmuring or regret. Every day is to him 
a day of misery, and yet he bears his hard 
fate without repining ! 

With what indignation do I hear the heroes 
of tragedy complain of misfortunes and hard- 
ships, whose greatest calamity is foiuided in 
arrogance and pride ! Their severest distresses 
are pleasures compared to what many of the 
adventuring pnor every day sustain without 
murmuring. These may eat, drink, and 
sleep, have slaves to attend them, and are 
sure of subsistence for life, while many of 
their fellow-creatures are obliged to wander, 
without a friend to comfort or to assist them, 
find eiunity in every law, and are too poor to 
obtain even justice. 

I have been led into these reflections from 
accidentally meeting some days ago a poor 
fellow begging, at one of the outlets of this 
town, with a wooden leg. I was curious to 
learn what had reduced him to his ])resent 
situation; and, after giving him what I 
thouglit proper, desired to know the history 
of his life ami misfortunes, and tlie manner 



230 



CITIZEN OF THE AVOKLl^. 



in which he was leiluced to his present 
distress. The disahleil sohlicr, for such lie 
was, with an intrepidity truly British, lean- 
ing on his crutch, put himself into an attitude 
to comply with my request, and gave me his 
history as follows : — 

" As for misfortunes, sir, I cannot pretend 
to have gone through more tlian others. 
Except the loss of my limb, and my being 
obliged to beg, I dont know any reason, 
thank Heaven, that I have to comjjlain ; 
there are some who have lost both legs and 
an eye ; but, thank Heaven, it is not quite so 
bad with me. 

" My father was a labourer in the country, 
and died when I was five years old ; so I 
was put upon the parish. As he had been a 
wandering sort of a man, the parishioners 
were not able to tell to what parish I belonged, 
or where I was bom : so they sent me to 
another parish, and that parish sent me to a 
third; till at last it was thonglit I l)e!onged to 
no parish at all. At length, however, they fixed 
me. I had some disposition to be a scholar, 
and had actually learned my letters; but the 
master of tlie workhouse put me to business 
as soon as I was able to handle a mallet. 

" Here I lived an easy kind of a life for 
itive years. I only wrought ten hours in the 
day, and had my meat and drink provided 
for my labour. It is true, I was not suffered 
to stir far from the house, for fear I sliould 
run away; but what of that? I had the 
liberty of the whole house, and the yard 
before the door, and that was enough for me. 

" I was next bound out to a farmer, where 
I was up both early and late ; but I ate and 
drank well, and liked my business well 
enough, till he died. Being then obliged to 
provide for myself, I was resolved to go and 
seek my fortune. Thus I lived, and went 
from town to town, working when I could 
get employment, and starving when I could 
'^et none, and might have lived so still : but 
happening one day to go through a field be- 
longing to a magistrate, I spied a hare cross- 
ing the path just before me. I believe the 
devil put it in my head to tling my stick at 
it : well, what will you have on it ? I killed 
the hare, and was bringing it away in 
triumph when the justice himself met me: 
he called me a villain, and, collaring me, 



desired I would give an account of myseli" 
I l)Cgan immediately to give a full account 
of all that I knew of my breed, seed, and 
generation ; but though I gave a very long 
account, the justice said I could give no 
account of myself; so I was indicted, and 
found guilty of being poor, and sent to 
Newgate, in order to be transported to the 
plantations. 

" People may say this an:l that of being in 
gaol, but for my part I found Newgate as 
agreealble a place as ever I was in in all my 
life. I had my belly-full to eat and drink 
and did no work ; but alas ! this kind of life 
was too good to last for ever ! I was taken 
out of prison, after five months, put on board 
of a ship, and sei.t oft' with two hundred 
more. Our passage was but indifi'erent, for 
we were all confined in the hold, and died 
very fast for want of sweet air and jirovisions ; 
but for my part I did not want meat, because 
I had a fever all the way : Providence was 
kind when provisions grew short, it took away 
my desire of eating. When we came ashore 
we were sold to the planters. I was bound 
for seven j-ears, and as I was no scholar (for 
I had forgot my letters), I was obliged to 
work among the negroes, and served out my 
time as in duty bound to do. 

" When my time was expired I worked 
my passage home, and glad I was to see old 
England again, because I loved my country. 

liberty! lil)erty ! liberty! that is the pro- 
perty of every Englishman, and I will die in 
its defence. I was afraid, however, that I 
should be indicted for a vagabond cnce more, 
so did not much care to go into the country, 
but kept about town, and did little jobs when 

1 could get them. I was very happy in this 
manner for some time; till one evening, 
coming home from work, two men knocked 
me down, and then desired me to stand still. 
They belonged to a press-gang. I was carried 
before the justice, and as I could give no ac- 
count of myself (that was the thing that always 
hobbled me), I had my choice left, whether 
to go on board a man-of-war or list for a sol- 
dier. I chose to be a soldier ; and in this 
post of a gentleman I served two campaigns, 
was at the battles in Flanders, and receivetl but 
one wound through the breast, which is 
troublesome to this dav. 



DISTRESSES OF THE TOOR KXEMPIJl lED. 



231 



'• When thepcacccameoti I was discharged ; 
and as I could not work, because my woiiml 
was sometimes painful, 1 listed for a lands- 
man in the East India Company's service. I 
here fou<^ht the French in six pitched battles ; 
and verily believe that, if 1 could read or 
write, our captain woidd have given me pro- 
motion and made ine a corporal. But that 
was not my good fortune. I soon fell sick, 
and, when I became good for notliing, got 
leave to return home again with forty poiniils 
in my pocket, which 1 saved in the ser\ ice. 
This w;is at the beginning of the present war ; 
so I hoped to be set on shore and to have the 
pleasure of spending my money ; but the 
government wantetl men, and I was pressed 
again before ever I could set foot on shore. 

••The boatswain found me, as he said, an 
obstinate fellow : he swore that I understood 
my business perfectly well, but that 1 pretended 
sickness merely to be idle. God knows, I 
knew nothing of sea-business: he beat me 
without considering what he w;is about. 
But still my forty pounds was some comfort 
to me under every lieating; the money was 
my comfort ; and tlie money I might have had 
to this day. but that our ship was taken by 
the French, luid so 1 lost it all ! 

" Our crew was carried into a French 
prlion, and many of them died because they 
were not used to live in a gaol ; but for my 
part, it was nothing to me, for I was seasoned. 
One night, however, as I was sleeping on the 
bed of boards, with a warm blanket about 
me (for I always loved to lie well), I was 
awakened by the boatswain, who had a dark- 
lantern in his hand. " Jack," says he to me, 
•• will you knock out the French sentrys" 
brains V " — •■ I don't care," says I, striving to 
keep myself awake, •• if I lend a hand." — 
•• Then follow me," says he, " and I liope we 
shall do business." So up I got, and tied my 
blanket, which was all the clothes I had, 
about my middle, and went with him to 
Hght the Frenchmen : we had no aims; but 



one Englishman is able to beat five French 
at any time : so we went down to the door, 
where both the sentries were i)osted, and rush- 
ing upon them, seized their arms in a moment, 
anil knocked tliem down, From tlieiice nine 
of us ran together to the cpiay, and seizing 
the first boat we met, got out of the harbour, 
and jmt to sea : we had not been here three 
days, before we were taken up by an English 
privateer, who was glad of so many good 
hands ; and we consented to run our chance. 
However, we had not so much luck as we 
expected. In three days we fell in with a 
French man-of-war of forty guns, while we 
had but twenty-three; so to it we went. The 
fight lasted for three hours, and I verily be- 
lieve we should have taken tlie Frenchman, 
but unfortiniately we lost almost all our 
men just as we were going to get the victory. 
I was once more in the power of the French, 
and I believe it would have gone hard willi 
me had I been brought back to my old gaol 
in Brest; but by good fortune we were re- 
taken, and carried to England once more. 

'• 1 liad almost forgot to tell you, that in 
tliis last engagement I was wounded in two 
places; I lost four fingers of the left hand, 
and my leg was shot oil'. Had I the good 
fortune to have lost my leg and use of my 
han<l on board a king's ship, and not a pri- 
vateer, I should have been entitled to clothing 
and maintenance during the rest of my life, 
but that was not my chance ; one man is 
born witli a silver spoon in his mouth, and 
another with a wooden ladle. However, 
blessed be God, I enjoy good health, and 
have no enemy in this world that I know of, 
but the French and the justice of peace." 

Thus saying, he limped oil", leaving my 
friend and me in admiration of his intrepi- 
dity and content; nor could we avoid ac 
kiiowledging, that an habitual acquaintance 
witii misery is the truest school of fortitude 
and philosophy. Adieu. 



232 



CITIZEN OF THE "WORLD. 



LETTER CXX. 

ON THE ABSUEDITT OF SOME LATE ENGLISH TITLES. 

From the Same. 



The titles of European princes are ratliermore 
numerous than ours of Asia, but by no means 
so sublime. The King of Visapovir, or Pegu, 
not satisfied with claiming the globe and all 
its appurtenances, to him and his heirs, asserts 
a property even in the firmament, and ex- 
tends his orders to the milky-way. The mo- 
narchs of Europe, with more modesty, con- 
fine their titles to earth, luit make up by 
number what is wanting in their sublimity. 
Such is their passion for a long list of these 
splendid trifles, that I have known a German 
prince with more titles than subjects, and 
a Spanish nobleman with more names than 
shirts. 

Contrary to this, the '" English monarchs,"' 
says a writer of the last century, " disdain to 
accept of such titles, which tend only to in- 
crease their pride without improving their 
glory ; they are above depending on the feeble 
helps of heraldry for respect, perfectly satisfied 
with the consciousness of acknowledged pow- 
er." At present, however, these maxims are 
laid aside : the English monarchs have of late 
assumed new titles, and have impressed their 
coins with the names and arms of obscure 
dukedoms, petty states, and subordinate em- 
ployments.' Their design in this, I make no 
doubt, was laudably to add new lustre to 
the British throne; but in reality paltry 
claims only serve to diminish that resjject 
they are designed to secure. 



1 On the accession of George I.,tlie arms of Bruns- 
wick were iutroducul in Ihc fourtli <[ii.irtpring of the 
royal escutcheon. The coins of George III. bore the 
following legend : — • 

" iM. 13. F. etH. Rex. F. D. B. et L. D. S. K. I. A. T. 
IT E." 

AVhich signified " King of Great Britain, Fr.Tnce, 
and Ireland; Defender of the Faith, Duke of Bruns- 
nick and l.unebiirg, .4rch-Trcasuicr and Elector of 
the Holy Uoman Kmpire." After the union villi 
Ireland, the legend was— 

" BiuTANNHBUM Rex Finn Defensor." 

That is, " King of llic British Islands, Defender of 
the Faith." Since the accession of Queen Victoria, 
the "escutcheon of pretence" for Brunswick auil 
Hanover is no longer borne, those two states being 
now separated from the British crown. 



There is in llie honours assumed liy kings, 
as in the decorations of architecture, a ma- 
jestic simplicity which best conduces to in- 
sjiire our reverence and respect; numerous 
and trifling ornaments in either are strong in- 
dications of meanness in the designer or of 
concealed deformity : should, for instance, the 
Emperor of Cliina, among other titles, assume 
that of deputy Mandarin of Macao, or the 
monarch of Great Britain, France, and Ire- 
land, desire to be acknowledged as Duke of 
Brentford, Lunenburgh, or Lincoln, the ob- 
server revolts at this mixture of important 
and paltry claims, and forgets the emperor in 
his familiarity with the duke or the deputj-. 

I remember a similar instance of this in- 
verted ambition in the illustrious King of 
Manacabo, upon his first treaty with the Por- 
tuguese. Among the presents that were made 
him by the ambassador of that nation was a 
sword with a brass hilt, on which he seemed 
to set a peculiar value. This he thought too 
great an acquisition to his glory to be forgot- 
ten among the number of his titles. He 
therefore gave orders tliat his subjects should 
style him for the future, " Talipot, the im- 
mortal Potentate of Manacabo, Messenger of 
Morning, Enlightener of the Sun, Possessor of 
the whole Earth, and mighty Monarch of the 
brass-handled Sword." 

This method of mixing majestic and paltry- 
titles, of quartering the arms of a great empire 
and an obscure province u]ion the same medal 
here, had its rise in the virtuous partiality of 
their late monarchs. Willing to testify an 
affection to their native country, they gave 
its name and ensigns a place upon their coins, 
and thus in some measure ennobled its ob- 
scurity. It was indeed but just that a people 
which had given England up their king, 
should receive some honorary equivalent in 
return ; but at present these motives are no 
more ; England has now a monarch wholly 
British, and has some reason to hope for 
British titles upon British coins. 

However, were the money of England de- 
signed to circulate in Germany, there would 



ABSURDITY OF SOME LATE ENGI-ISII TITLES. 



233 



he no flagrant improprioty in impressing it 
with German names and arms; but thougli 
this might have been so upon fonncr occa- 
sions, I am fold there is no danger of it for 
the future : as England, therefore, designs to 
kecj) i)ack its gold, I camlidly think Lunen- 
burg, Oldenburg, and the rest of tliem, may 
very well keep back tiicir titles. 

It is a mistaken prejudice in princes to 
think that a number of loud-sounding names 
can give new claims to respect ; the truly 
great have ever disdained them. When Timur 
the Lame bad conquered Asia, an orator by 
j;rofession came to compliment him upon the 
occasion. He began his harangue by styling 
him the most omnipotent and the most glorious 
object of the creation. The emperor seemed 
displeased with his paltry adulation, yet still 
he went on, complimenting him as the most 
mighty, the most valiant, and the most per- 



fect of beings. " Hold there, my friend," 
cries the lame emperor; "hold there, till I 
have got another leg." In fact, the feeble or 
the despotic alone tind pleiisure in multiply- 
ing thes<? pageants of vanity, but strength and 
freedom have nobler aims, and often tind the 
finest adulation in majestic simplicity. 

The young monarch of this country has 
already testified a proper contem))t for several 
unmeaning appendages on royalty ; cooka 
and scullions have been obliged to quit their 
fires ; gentlemen's gentlemen, and the whole 
tribe of necessary people who did nothing, 
have been dismissed from further services. 
A youth who can thus bring back simplicity 
and frugality to a court, will soon, ))robably, 
have a true prospect for his own glory, and 
while he has dismissed all useless employ- 
ments, may disdain to accept of empty or 
degrading titles. Adieu. 








[Cliiiiose Trailing .Tutik.] 



Zll 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



LETTER CXXI. 

THE IBRESOLUTION OF THE ENGLISH ACCOCNTED FOR. 
From the Same.' 



Whenever I attempt to characterise the 
English in general, some unforeseen diffi- 
culties constantly occur to disconcert my 
design ; I hesitate between censure and 
praise: when I consider them as a reasoning 
philosophical people, they liave my applause ; 
but when I reverse the medal, and observe 
their inconstancy and irresolution, I can 
scarcely persuade myself that I am observing 
the same people. 

Vet, upon examination, this verj' incon- 
stancy, so remarkable here, tlows from no 
other source tlian their love of reasonina:. The 
man who examines a complicated subject on 
every side, and calls in reason to his assist- 
ance, will frequently change; will find him- 
self distracted by opposing probabilities and 
contending proofs ; every alteration of place 
will diversify tlie prospect, will give some 
latent argument new force, and contribute to 
maintain an anarchy in the mind. 

On the contrary, they who never examine 
with their own reason act with more simpli- 
city. Ignorance is positive, instinct perse- 
veres, and the human being moves in safety 
within tlie narrow circle of brutal uniformity- 
What is true with regard to individuals is 
not less so when ajiplied to states. A reason- 
ing government like this is in continual fluc- 
tuation, while those kingdoms where men are 
taught not to controvert but obey, continue 
always the same. In Asia, for instance, 
where the monarch's authorit\' is supported 
by force aud acknowledged through fear, a 
change of government is entirely unknown. 
All the inhabitants seem to wear the same 
mental complexion, and remain contented 
with hereditary oppression. The sovereign's 
pleasure is the ultimate rule of duty, every 
branch of the administration is a perfect 
epitome of the whole ; and if one tyrant is 
deposed, another starts up in his room to 
govern as his predecessor. The English, on 
the contrary, instead of being led by power, 
endeavour to guide themselves by reason ; 
instead of appealing to the pleasure of the 



prince, appeal to the original rights of man- 
kind. What one rank of men assert is denieil 
by others, as the reasons on opposite sides 
happen to come home with greater or les-; 
conviction. The people of Asia are directed 
by precedent, which never alters ; the Eng- 
lish by reason, which is ever changing it« 
appearance. 

The disadvantages of an Asiatic govern- 
ment acting in this manner by precedent are 
evident; original errors are thus continued 
v.ithout hopes of redress, and all marks of 
genius are levelled down to one standard, 
since no superiority of thinking can be al- 
lowed its exertion in mending obvious defects. 
But to recompense those defects, their govern- 
ments undergo no new alterations ; they have 
no new evils to fear, nor no fermentations in 
the constitution that continue : the struggle 
for power is soon over, and all becomes tran- 
quil as liefore ; they are habituated to subor- 
dination, and men are taught to form no 
other desires than those which they are al- 
lowed to satisfy. 

The disadvantages of a government acting 
from the immediate influence of reason, like 
that of England, are not less than those of the 
former. It is extremely difficult to induce a 
number of free beings to co-operate for their 
mutual benefit; every possible advantage 
will necessarily be sought, and every attempt 
to procure it must be attended with a new 
fermentation; various reasons will lead dif- 
ferent ways, and equity and advantage will 
often be out-balanced by a combination of 
clamour and prejudice. But though such a 
people may be thus in the wrong, they have 
been influenced by a happy delusion, their 
errors are seldom seen till they are felt ; each 
man is himself the tyrant he has obeyed, and 
such a master he can easily forgive. The 
disadvantages he feels may in reality be 
equal to what is felt in the most despotic 
government ; but man will bear every cala- 
mity with patience, when he knows himself t(i 
be the author of his own misfortunes. Adieu. 



MAN NEK 01' TUAVKLLERS RIDICULED. 



235 




[Uld White Couduit House. Tl>e Conduit iu the Foreground. From a Print, dated 1740.] 



LETTER C.X.Xir. 

THE M.INNER OF TR.4VELLEKS IN THEIR USUAL RELATIONS RIDICILED. 

From the Same. 



Mv long residence here begins to fatigue me ; 
as every object ceases to be new it no longer 
continues to be ])leasing : some niiiids are so 
t'oiid ofvarifty that jileasure itself, if perma- 
nent, woulil be insupportable, and we are 
thus obliged to solicit new happiness even by 
courting distress : I only therefore wait the 
arrival of my son to vary this triding scene, 
and to Iforrow netv i)lc;usure from danger and 
fatigue. A life, I own, thus spent in wander- 
ing from place to place, is at best but empty 
dissipation. Hut to ])ursue trilles is the lot 
of humanity ; and whether we bustle in a 
jiantomime, or strut at a coronation; whether 
« e shout at a bonfire, or harangue in a senate- 
house; whatever object we follow, it will at 
last surely condiu't us to futility and disap- 
pointment. The wise bustle and laugh as 
liiey walk in the pageant, Ijut fools bustle 
ami .ire important; and this probably is all 
tlic diderence between them. 

This may be an ajmlogy for the levity of 
my former correspondence. I talked of trifles, 
and I kni'w that they were trifles; to make 



the things of this life ridiculous it was only 
sufficient to call them by their names. 

In other respects I have omitted several 
striking circumstances in the descri))tion of 
this country, as supposing them either already 
known to you, or as not being thoroughly 
knowii to myself; but there is one omission 
for which I expect no forgiveness, namely, 
my being totally silent upon their Lr.ildings, 
roads, rivers, and mountains. This is a branch 
of science on which all other travellers are so 
very prolix, that my deficiency will appear 
the more glaring. With what jileasure, for 
instance, do some read of a traveller in Egypt 
measuring a fallen column with his cane, 
and finding it exactly live feet nine inches 
long; of his creeping tiirough the mouth of a 
cafacomlj, and coming out by a ditVereut hole 
from that he entered; of liis stealing the fin- 
ger of an anti<iiie statue, in spite of the jani- 
zary that walchetl him ; or his adding a new 
conjecture to the hundred ami fouitcen con- 
jectures already published upmi the nainei 
of Osiris ami Isis .' 



236 



CITIZEN OF THE "WORLD. 



Methiiiks I hear some of my friends in 
China demanding a simiLir account of Lon- 
don and the adjacent villages; and if I re- 
main liere much longer it is probalile I may 
gratify their curiosity. I intend, when run 
dry upon other topics, to take a serious survey 
of the city-wall; to describe that beautiful 
building the mansion-house; I will enume- 
rate the magnificent squares in which the 
nobility chielly reside, and the royal palaces 
appointed for the reception of tlio English 
monarch ; nor will I forget the beauties of 
Shoe-lane, in which I myself have resided 
since my arrival. You shall find me no way 
inferior to many of my brother travellers in the 
arts of description. At present, however, as 
a sjDecimen of this way of writing, I send you 
a few hasty remarks, collected in a late jour- 
ney I made to Kentish Town, and this in tlie 
manner of modern voyagers. 

" Having heard much of Kentisli Town,' I 
conceived a strong desire to see that celebrated 
place. I could have wished indeed to satisfy 
my curiosity without going thither; but that 
was impracticable, and therefore I resolved 
to go. Travellers have two methods of going 
to Kentish Town ; tliey take coach which j 
costs nine-pence, or they may go afoot which j 
costs nothing; in my opinion a coach is by i 
far the most eligible convenience, but I was 
resolved to go on foot, having considered with j 
myself that going in that manner would be 
the cheapest way. j 

" As you set out from Dog-house bar, you 
enter upon a fine level road railed in on both 
sides, commanding on the right a fine pros- 
pect of groves and fields, enamelled with 
flowers, which would wonderfully charm the 
sense of smelling were it not for a dunghill 
on the left, which mixes its effluvia with their 
odours ; this dunghill is of much greater 



> Kentish Town, in 1760, separated from the me- 
tropolis by tielils, has becu since joined to it by tlie 
erection of isomers Town and Camden Town. It is 
almost entirely within the last fifty years that the 
streets north of Ormond-stieet, Queen-square, and tlie 
British Museum have been built; and many of them 
at a much more recent date. The extension of Lon- 
don north of Oxford-street commenced about the year 
I'SO, when tlie northern side of the street from Kath- 
bone-place to Vere-street was built; Upper Harley- 
street anil Portland-place were not commenced until 
about 1774. 



antiquity than the road ; and I must not omit 
a piece of injustice I was going to commit 
upon tliis occasion. My indignation was 
levelled against the makers of the dunghill 
for having brought it so near the road ; where- 
as it should have fallen upon the makers of 
the road for having brought that so near the 
dunghill. 

" After proceeding in this manner for some 
time, a building, resembling somewhat a 
triumphal arch, salutes tlie traveller's view. 
Tl;is structure however is peculiar to this 
country, and vulgarly called a turnpike-gate : 
I could perceive a long inscription in large 
characters on the front, probattly upon the 
occasion of some triumph, but being in haste, 
I left it to be made out by some subsequent 
adventurer who may happen to travel this 
way ; so continuing my course to the west, I 
soon arrived at an uawalled town called 
Islington. 

"Islington is a pretty neat town, mostly 
built of brick, with a church and bells:'' it 
lias a small lake, or rather pond in the midst, 
lliough at present very much neglected.' I 
am told it is dry in summer : if this be the 



2 Goldsmith resided at Islington during the whole 
of 17G3 and part of the following year, and appeals 
always to have been much attached to the place, .is 
indeed he was to the other suburbs of London. When 
his circumstances were prosperous, he would occa- 
sionally take whathe called a" shoemaker's holiday," 
for which purpose he would invite four or live 
friends to join him. .\fter breakfasting at his 
lodgings, they woulil set out for Blackheath, Wands- 
worth, Fulham, Chelsea, Hampstead, Highgate, or 
Highbury, take dinner, and return home quietly in 
the evening. la Nelson's 'Islington' there is an 
account of the manner in which he used to spend 
these days of social enjoyment. After breakfiist the 
poet and his frieuds would set out at eleven " by the 
City Koad and through the fields to Highbury barn to 
dinner; about six, they adjourned to White Conduit 
House to drink tea; and concluded the evening by 
supping at the Grecian or Temide Exchange colfee- 
houses, or at the Globe in Fleet-street. Tliere w:is a. 
good ordinary of two dishes and pastry kept at 
Highbury Barn at this time at tenpence per head, 
including a peuny to the waiter: the company geae- 
rally consisted of literary characters, a few Templars, 
and some citizens who had left otf trade." 

3 There appears at one period to have been a pond 
on Islington Green, but the site of it is now covered 
with houses; and another p.art of Islington, called 
Hall's Pond, is also built upon ; but there is still a 
large pond near Canonbury House, and another of 
smaller dimensions near Copenhagen House. 



MANNER OF TRAVELLERS RIDICULED. 



237 



case it can be no very proper receptacle for 
fish, of which the iiihaliituiits themselves 
seem sensihle by bringing all that is eaten 
there from London. 

" After having surveyed tlie curiosities of 
thisfiir ai:il beautiful town, 1 pioreeilcd for- 
ward, leaving a f.iir stone building called the 
White Conduit House on my right : here 
the inhabitants of London often assemble to 
celebrate a feast of hot rolls and butter:' 
seeing such numbere, each with their little 
tables before them, em])loyed on this occasion, 
must no doubt be a very amusing sight to 
the looker-on, but still more so to those wlio 
perform in the solemnity. 

'• From hence I parted with reluctance to 
Pancras, as it is written, or Panciulge, as it is 



' Tlierc is a passaj^e in Sliirlcy's play of ' Tlie 
I-ady uf I'loasure' wliicli slinws tliat the citizens of 
I.omlon in his day (lie died in 10(">r.)\vcre accustDmcd 
to resort to Islinirton on holidays; for t'elcstina, being 
Jissatls:ied with the nc" cjacli ordered for her, says: 
" To market with it ! 

'Twill haokney out to Mile Knd, or convey 

Your city tiimiders to be drunk with cream 

And pruiu's at Islington." 

The ^Vhite Conduit House has been from a com- 
paratively early jieriod a favourite place with the 
middle and workint; classes. In a paper in the 
■ Idler,' No. 15, July, 17.')8, " Zechariah Treacle," a 
London shop-keeper, complains that on .'iumlays his 
wife drajishim out to " (Jeorgia, or Ilornsey Wood, 
or the White Condviit House, for tea, and hot rolls 
aud syllabubs." When GoUlsmith's fame liad be- 
c ime established, and he published a volume of 
' lissays,' containini; some of his earlier productions, 
there is a correction in one of them w hich evinces a 
desire of (jiving «h;it he considered a less vulg.ar aii 
to some of the local .allusions : thus, in place of re- 
presenting oue of his characters as going to procure 
an appetite by a walk in the gardens of \Vhite Con- 
duit House, he is m.adc to proceed to the I'ark. 
W hite Conduit House was never, like VauNliall, a 
place of " f.ishiou.ible " resort It is at present both 
;i summer and winter place of amusement; in tlio 
former season the g.ardcns being the attr.action, and 
these are laid out much .after the manner of those of 
Vauxhall : the walks are lighted with coloured lamps, 
and stages .are erected on wliich pantominu-s and 
oon'-erU arc performed, the whole usually coueludiug 
with fire- works. lu winter there is music and singing 
iu the lioiisc. 



])ronouHced ; but which .sliould be both pro- 
nounced aiul written Pangrace : this emenda- 
tion I will venture meo arbilrio : Xlav in the 
Greek language signifies all, wliich added t(» 
the English \\o\A rjitice^ maketh all (jrnce, or 
Punrjrare • and indeed this is a very pro])er 
appellation to a jilace of so much sanctity 
as Pangrace is universally esteemeiL How- 
ever this be, if you except the parish cliiirch 
and its fine bells, there is little in Pangrace 
worth the attention of the curious observer. 

'• From Pangrace to Kentish Town is an 
easy jouriu-y of one mile and a quarter : the 
road lies through a line champaign country, 
well watered with beautiful drains, 2 and 
enamelled with flowers of all kinds, whicli 
might contriliute to charm every sense were 
it not tiiat the odoriferous gales are often 
more impregnated with dust tlian perfume. 

'' As you enter Kentish Town, the eye is at 
once presented with the shops of artificers, 
such as venders of candles, small-coal, and 
hair-brooms ; there are ;ilso several august 
buildings of red brick, with numberless sign- 
posts, or rather pillars, in a peculiar order of 
architecture ; I send you a drawing of several, 
vide ABC. This pretty town probably 
borrows its name from its vicinity to the 
county of Kent ; and indeed it is not un- 
natural tliat it should, as there are only Lon- 
don and the adjacent villages that \\v. between 
them. Be this as it will, perceiving night 
approach, I made a hasty re])ast on roasted 
mutton and a certain dried fruit called 
potatoes, resolving to protract my remarks 
upon my return : and this I would very 
willingly have done, but was jirevented Liy 
a circumstance which in trutli I had for some 
time foreseen, for night coming on, it was 
imj)ossihlo to take a pro])er survey of tiu! 
country, as I was obliged to return home in 
the dark.'' Adieu. 



2 The I'leet Ditch or stream (lowed throutih this 
neighliourhood : it is now covered iu with brick urclios 
from Kcntiiih Tow u to tlie Thames. 



238 



CITIZEN OF THE WORLD. 



LETTER CXXIII. 



CONCLUSION. 



From the Same, 



After a variety of disappointments, my 
wishes are at length fully satisfied. My son 
so long expected is anived ; at once by his 
presence banishing my anxiety, and opening 
a new scene of unexpected pleasure. His 
improvements in mind and person have far 
surpassed even the sanguine expectations of a 
father. I left him a boy, but he is returned 
a man : pleasing in his person, hardened by 
travel, and polished by adversity. His dis- 
appointment in love, however, had infused 
an air of melancholj- into his conversation, 
which seemed at intervals to inteiTupt our 
mutual satisfaction. I expected that this 
could find a cure only from time ; but 
Fortune, as if willing to load us with her 
favours, has in a moment repaid every im- 
easiness with rapture. 

Two days after his arrival, the man in 
black, with his beautiful niece, came to con- 
gratulate us upon this pleasing occasion ; but, 
guess our surprise, when my friend's lovely 
kinswoman was found to be the very captive 
my son had rescued froiu Persia, and who had 
been wrecked on the Wolga, and was carried 
by the Russian peasants to the port of Arch- 
angel. Were I to hold the pen of a novelist, 
I might be prolix in describing their feelings 
at so unexpected an interview ; but you may 
conceive their joy without my assistance; 
words were unable to express their transports, 
then how can words describe it ? 

When two young persons are sincerely 
enamoured of each other, nothing can give me 
such pleasure as seeing them married : whc ther 
I know the parties or not, I am happy in thus 
binding one link more in the universal chain. 
Nature has, in some measure, formed me for 
a match-maker, and given me a soul to sym- 
pathise with every mode of human felicity. 
I instantly, therefore, consulted the man in 
black, whether we might not crown their 
mutual wishes by marriage : his soul seems 
formed of similar materials with mine ; he 
instantly gave his consent, and the next day 



in 

fctt; 
tbfle 

Rjlii 



was appointed for the solem.ni/.at ion of their 
nuptials. 

All the acquaintance which I had made 
since my arrival were present at this gay 
solemnity. The little beau was constituted 
master of the ceremonies, and his wife, Mrs. 
Tibbs, conducted the entertainment with 
proper decorum. The man in black and the 
pawnbroker's widow were very sprightly and 
tender upon this occasion. The widow was 
dressed up under the direction of Mrs. Tibbs; 
and as for her lover, his face was set olf by the 
assistance of a pig-tail wig, which was lent 
by the little beau, to fit him for making love 
with proper formality. The whole company 
easily perceived that it would be a double 
wedding before all was over, and indeed my 
friend and the widow seemed to make no 
.secret of their passion ; he even called me 
aside, in order to know my candid opinion 
whether I did not think him a little too old 
to be married. "As for my own part,'' con- 
tinued he, " I know I am going to play the 
fool, but all my friends will praise my wisdom, 
and produce me as tlie very pattern of discre- 
tion to others.'' 

At dinner everything seemed to run on 
with good humour, harmony, and satisfaction. 
Every creature in company thought them- 
selves pretty, and every jest was laughed at; 
the man in black sat next his mistress, helped 
her plate, chimed her glass, and jogging her 
knees and her elbow, he whispered something 
arch in her ear, on which she patted his 
cheek; never was antiquated passion so play- 
ful, so harmless, and amusing, as between 
this reverend couple. 

The second course was now called for, and 
among a variety of other dishes, a fine turkey 
was placed before the widow. The Euro- 
peans, you know, carve as they eat ; my 
friend, therefore, begged his mistress to help 
him to a part of the turkey. The widow, 
pleased with an opportunity of sliowing her 
skill in carving, an art upon which it seems 



CONCLUSION. 



239 



slie piqued liprscif, began to cut it up by 
first taking ofl'the leg. '* Madam," cries my 
Iricnil. '• il' I iniglit be ])ermitted to advise I 
would begin l)y cutting olVtlie wing, and tlien 
tlicleg would come olT n\ore easily." — "Sir," 
replies the widow, '•give tuo leave to under- 
stand cutting up a fowl, I always begin with 
the leg." — '• Ves, madam." replies the lover, 
" but if the wing be the most convenient 
manner, I would begin with the wing." — 
" Sir," interrupts the lady, " when you hive 
fowls of your own, begin with the wing if you 
please, but give me leave to take oft' the leg ; 
I hope I am not to lie taught at this time of 
day." — ■' Madam," interrupts he, " we are 
never too old to l)e instructed." — '• Old, Sir!" 
interrupts tlie other, '■ who is old, Sir? when I 
die of old age, I know of some that will quake 
for fear; if the leg does not come oft' take 
tlie turkey to yourself." — " IMadam," replied 
the man in black, '" I do not care a farthing 
whether the leg or the wing comes oft"; if you 
are for tlie leg lirst why you shall have the 
argument, even though it lie as I say." — " As 
for the matter of that," cries the widow, " I 
do not care a fig whether you are for the leg 
oft" or on ; and, friend, for the future keep 
your distance." — " O," replied the other, 
" that is easily done, it is only removing to 
the other end of the table, and so, madam, 
your most obedient humble servant." 



Thus was this court.ship of an age destroyed 
in one moment ; for this dialogue efl'ectually 
broke oft' the match between this respectable 
couple that had lieen just concluded. The 
smallest accidents disappoint the most im- 
jiortant treaties : iiowever, tiiough it in some 
measure interrujited the general satisfaction, 
it no ways lessened tlie happiTiess of the youth- 
ful couple ; and Ijy tiie young lady's looks, I 
could perceive she was not entirely displeased 
with this interruption. 

In a few hours tlie whole transaction seemed 
entirely forgotten, and we liave all since en- 
joyed those satisfactions which result from a 
consciousness of making each other happy. 
My son and his fair partner are fixed here 
for life ; tlie man in black has given them uji 
a small estati! in the country, which, added to 
what I was able to bestow, will be capable of 
supplying all the real but not the fictitious 
demands of happiness. As for myself, the 
world being but one city to me, I do not 
much care in which of the streets I happen to 
reside ; 1 shall, therefore, spend the remainder 
of my life in examining tlie manners of 
different countries, and have prevailed ujion 
the man in black to be my companion. 
" They must often change," says Confucius, 
" who would be constant in happiness or 
wisdom." Adieu. 




[Chinese Tea-cups on St.inds.] 
London : I'rintcd by William Clowes and Soks, Stamford Street. 



Books published I) y CnxRhES Knic;ht and Co., Lul^ale Street. 



In Half-crown Monthly Parts, super-royal octavo, 

THE nCTORIAL EDITION OF SHAKSPERE. 



Tlie Xules of this eilition embrace every sub- 
ject that appears neoessary to \)l" iiivesli^aled for 
tlie complete inroimatiou of the reader. Tlie 
various readings and the glosiiirial notes are 
preseuted al tlie fool of each pag^ ; whilst the 
fuller aiiuotalions are appended to each Act. Au 
Introiuctory Notice is prelixod to each I'lav, 
which points out — 1. Tlie Historical Facts,— tlie 
real or ima^'iiiary incidents, — ami the complete 
.Stories or det.iched passages in works of ima<^i- 
natiuD, — from either of which the plot of the 
Drama, or any portion of it, is snppjsed to be 
dtrived ; — 2. The evidenie which exists to esta- 
blish the date when the Play was written;— 3. 
The Period ;ind the LocaHty of tlie Drama, with 
an account of the materials from which the local 
illustrations have been derived; — 4. The Cos- 
tume of ilie Ilrama, in which Notices are intro- 
duced Wood-cuts, copied fro:n ancient MSS. or 
Huoks that may exhibit the authentic Costume 
of the place and of the period which the Poet had 
in his mind ;— 5. Tlie Music of the Drama, in 
which the ori^'iiial airs of Shakspere's exquisite 
songs are, as far as possible, given. A Supple- 
mcntitry Notice presents an examination of the 
v.'iiious Critical Opinions upon each I'l;iy ; and, 
in this portion of the work, it will be tlie duly of 

The following Parts are already published : — 

1. TWO GF,NTr,nMi:N OF VERONA. 

2. KINO JOHN. 

3. KOMEO AM) JUI-I1;T. 
■t. I.OVK'.s LABOLMl'.S LOST. 
5. KING RICIIAUD II. 
C. IIKNRY IV., Paut I. 

7. lIENltV IV., Paht H. 

8. IIKNUY V. 
'J. MEKUY WIVES OF WINDSOll. 

10. HAMLET. 



the Editor, while ho avoids any obtrujive exhi- 
bition of his own opinions, to analyse and present 
ill one view whatL-ver is valuable iu the multifi- 
rious criticisMi upon Sliakspere, — and especially 
to exhibit those views fno edition of Shnkspere 
having yet presented sacdi to us) which do justice 
not Duly to the surpassing beauty of detached 
passages of our great Diamitist, but which poiul 
out the consummate judgment which he displays 
in the conduct of his Story, — his wonderful 
Alethod, — his exquisite Art, — the impetishahle 
freshness of his Scenes, — the unerring truth of 
his Characters. The materials for such an Ana- 
lysis are ample. 

In the Design and Engraving of the Wood-cuts 
the most eminent Artists are employed. The 
same desire will preside over the artistical as 
the literary department — namely, to produce an 
edition of Sliakspere, that, whilst it may be m^e 
interesting to the general reader, as well as more 
.attractive as a work of art than any which has 
yet been published, shall aim at the most com- 
plete accuracy ; and thus offer a not unworthy 
tribute to llie great Poet, which may be accept- 
able not only to England, but every country 
where his works are welcomed as the universal 
property of the civilised world. 



11. COMEDY OF ERRORS. 

12. TA.MING OK THE SHREW. 

13. A MIDSUMMER NKilll'S DREAM. 

14. MERCHANT OF VENICE. 
13. GYM IJE LINE. 

16. OTHELLO. 

17. TIMON OF ATHENS. 

18. LEAR. 

19. ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL.'' 

20. HENRY VI. PART 1. 



The Plays w 11 occupy Thirty-teaen Parts. The eiilire work, including 
SHAKSPERE'S SONNETS AND OTHER POEMS, AND A LIFE OF SHAIiSPEIlE. 

»iih Locil Illustrations, as well as other inlroduclory matter, will extend to Furty-fur Parts. The 
ultimate arrangement will be as follows ;— 



("iimedieg 

Histories , 

Tragedies 

Index 

Poems, Life, &c. 



14 Parts 2 Vols. 
10 2 

6 1 



The entire cost of this splendid Edition of Shakspere's Works will be only £h lOj. 



The Fiist Volume of the Hixloricnl Plays, price Xba., the First J'olume vf the Comedies, 
at t the First Volume of Tragedies, price 17»'. Gd. buundin clu'Ji.are now ready. 

1 



price 



20 1. 



HOOKS PUBLISHED BY CIIAUI.KS KNIGHT AND CO. 

In Monthly Parts, piice 2s. Gd. each, to be completed in two handsome volumes, 

super-royal 8vo., 

THE nCTORIAL HISTORY OF PALESTINE; 

BY THK EDITOR OF THE "PICTOBIAT, BIBLE." 

The mnin object of the present Work is to relale every event of interest or importance in the 
political, social, military, and ivliijious history of the country called Palestine, from the most remote 
a;,'es to the limes in which we live. It will tlins be, in the largest .sense, a History of 1'alestiNK, 
and not merely of the Hebrew nation ; b\it seeing that it is only its connexion, and the conse- 
quences of its connexion, with the history of the Hebrew people, which has rendered this small 
country of historical importance, it is also intended that the present volume sliould be complete as 

A HISTORY OF THE JEWS. 

It will thvis be seen that the character of completeness is that which the Anthor and the Pnb- 
lisheis are the most anxious that the present Work should bear; and, for the attainment of this 
object, it has also appeared desirable tliat what may be called 

THE PHYSICAL HISTORY OF PALESTINE 

should form a part of the nuderlaking. By this is to bo understood an account of the physical 
>,'eo;.'ra)ihy of the country, and its various products and characteristics. The Wood Enoravings! . 
which will be very numerous, and many from ori;,'inal drawings, will be executed in the first style of 
the art ; the subjects being representations of actual scenery, costume, manners, mouimients, and 
objects of natural history, in some instances combined into a picture or group, but never exhibitinS 
anything merely fanciful. _^ 



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TALES OF A THOUSAND AND ONE NIGHTS, 

KNOWN IN ENOI.AND AS 

THE ARABIAN NIGHTS' ENTERTAINMENTS, 

"With copious Notes, by Edward Wii.i.iam Lane, Esq., 

Illustrated with many Hundred Woodcuts, engraved by the first English Artists, 

after Original Designs by Wim.iam Harvey, Esq. 



In offeiing to the English reader an entirely new- 
version of the Tales of a Tliousand and One 
Is lights, it is one of the chief objects of the trans- 
lator to render these ench.mting fictions as in- 
tiresting to persons of mature a;;e and education 
as they have hitherto been to the young, and to 
do this without divesting them of those attrac- 
tions which have chiefly recommended them to 
the latter. The version w hich has so long amused 
us, not made immediately from the original 
Arabic, but through the medium of a French 
translation, is extremely loose, and abounds witli 
such errors as greatly to detract from the most 
valuable iiuality of tiie work, which is that of 
presenting a scries of most faithful and minutely 
detailed pictures of the manners and customs of 
the Arabs. The author of ' The Manners and 
Customs ofthe Modern Egyptians'is engagedin 
translating the whole of the original work, with 
the exception of such portion-^ as he deems un- 
interesting, or un ant/account vhjeciiunablt!. The 



original work being designed solely for the enter- 
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and agreeable to the English reader. 

The engravings, which will be so nnmernusly 
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assist to explain both the text and the notes ; 
and to ensure tlieir accuracy, to tlie utmost of 
his ability, with respect to costume, architecture, 
and scenery, the translator will supply tlie artist 
with dresses and other requisite materials, and 
will be allowed to suggest any corrections that 
he may find necessary, without fettering his 
imagination, which, judging from the progress 
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the pictorial embellishments of the work fully 
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tions. 

Two volumes of the work have been completed, 
and are published, price 28j. each, and the whole 
will be completed Id three volumes. 



Now puh/ishiii.j, III Monthly parts, price 2s., 

KNIGHT'S E NULIS H CLASSICS. 

IT is proposed by Messrs. CHARLES KNIGHT and Co. (o 
jm'ilish a sir'n's of works of the highest reputation, forming; a (^illection of Eiii^lish 
Literature, undiT the above titk". This series will ditier Iroiii other collections of a 
somewliat similar diaracter, in the following p.uticiilars : — 

1. The more important of our elder writers, whose works have been almost uniformly 
rf jected from popular collections, will have the place which belongs to them in this edition 
of ' F.ngli>h Classics.' 

2. Tlie text of a great writer will not only he republished, but the particular work will ba 
carefully edited, with such notes as may conduce to the understanding of the original, and 
odd to its interest by illustrative anecdote and criticism. A Biography of the Author will 
accompany each work. 

3. The series will be illustrated with Wood Engravings. 

4. The series will be beautifully printed in a novel size, which, whilst it admits of the great 
condensation and consequent cheapness which result from the prevailing mode of repub- 
lication in large octavos, will enable the reader to use each work as a hand-book. 

5. A Part will be published Monthly, forming, in some cases, a complete work; in others 
two, or rarely three parts, will form a Volume. 

PARTS I. AND II. COMPI.KTE 'GOLDSMITH'S CITIZEN OF THE WORLD,' 
WITH TWENTY-EIGHT WOODCUTS. Price l*., in Stifl' Covers. 



Also in 3Ionthli/ parts, price 2s., 

KNIGHT'S ENGUS2I_MISCELLANIES 

Thk title ' English Classics' at once distinguishes the class of books which will be included 
iu that series. They are of those works which liave a perennial reputation, and which 
require to be presented to the reader with a sciupuluus adherence to tha author's text, 
and with such annotations as may tend to explain the obscure and illustrate th-j beautiful. 
But there is a very large class cf works in our literature which, for the most part, require 
not only illustration, but occasional analysis and abridgment. Though full of the highest 
interest, and deserving of the must extensive popularity, they cannot be denominated 
classics, but may be fitly included under the comprehwnsive title of ' Miscui.i.anies.' The 
classes of works to which we principally alhule are those which are not so much sj)ecimens 
of c( mposition as storehouses of facts, derived, in many cases, from the personal observations 
of the writers ; works which are eagerly sought after by those v/ho can form extensive and 
costly libraries, but which are inaccessible, from their high price (sometimes jiroduced by 
their scarcity) to the general reader. Without furnishing a list of the particular works 
which we have in mind, we will mention the Classes oj" Literature proposed to be included 
in tliis series: — 

I. niOGR.VPHY. 
This most fascinating department of literature, interesting as it is in every shape, has 
degrees of interest anil value. W here the writer speaks of himself, or of (jflurs. from 
his personal knowledge, the most homely narrative has charms in wliich the most ele- 
gant is <lefii-ient, when the author is, in the large sense of the word, only a compiler. 
Tluis Wil.iain Ilutton's plain Autoliiograjihy is far more to he prized for its details of hu- 
man character and conduct than Middleton's learned Life of Cicero ; and Roger North's 
Lives of his Brothers are, to our minds, of a much higher worth than the many new and 
Ijrctti'iy-fiiiisheil menious of princes and stiitesmen which our times have produced. To 
jiresent this striking and oiigiual class of works, either entire or in a condensed shape, will 
be chieHy aimed at iu this depaitrnent. 



KNIGHT'S ENGLISH MISCELLANIES— con/mwec/. 



II. FAMILIAR LETTERS. 
The interest which belonf^s to personal narrative of every kind is essentially the chiei 
source of the fiscination of Letters. The human mind is {jeuerally here presented in a:i 
undress; and even when letters assume the character of studied compositions, the real cha- 
racter of the wiiter peeps out, in spite of every disj^'uise. The materials for a poiiuLiv 
series of familiar letters are almost unbounded. 

IIL MEMOIRS CONNECTED WITH PUBLIC EVENTS. 

Our literature does not boast of the riches which the French possess in this department : 
but every student ot our history will recollect many works of the hii^hest importance that 
he would be glad to have reprinted, entire or in part, in a uniform series. 

IV. OLD TRAVELLERS. 

Particularly those such as Dampier and Wafer, whose works have all the charm of narrativi's 
of personal danger and romantic adventure. 

V. OLD ANTIQUARIANS AND TOPOGRAPHERS. 

AVe have a mine of the richest materials for original descriptions of our countrj', at vary- 
ing periods, by writers who speak from their own personal observation. Nothing, for ex- 
ample, can be more truthful and curious than ' Harrison's Description of England,' a 
work which can only be found in connexion with Holinshed's Chronicles. 

VI. LITERARY HISTORY AND CRITICISM. 

Some of the most interesting critical papers in our language are to be found scattered 
in expensive books, or exist only as separate tracts. We would instance some of Dr\den"^ 
Prefaces, and Martin Sherlock's Fragment on Shakspere. The materials for detached 
Literary History, such as the controversy regarding Rowley's Poems, demand, especially, 
selection and condensation. ,_, 

VII. THE ENGLISH CAUSES CELEBRES, 

Exhibiting remarkable Passages ok Human Life, and ok Evidence, as brought out 

IN trials at law. 

This series will aim at presenting, in a popular form, everything that can be made gene- 
rally interesting in an extensive but little explored department of our literature, the record ■; 
of proceedings of all kinds in Courts of Justice. Tliere is no richer storehouse of curious 
and authentic; facts illustrative of human character and conduct. Even what are called civil 
cases, or pleas between private parties, relating merely to rights of property or to injuries for 
which compensation is sought in pecuniary damages, sometimes bring out the most extra- 
ordinary scenes of life or conflicts of evidence. Witness the famous Douglas cause. Old 
trials, also, often illustrate by-gone manners and customs, and other curiosities of antiqua- 
rianism ; sometimes historical events and constitutional usages; and although neither the 
illustration of ancient manners, nor of history, in any systematic way will be attempted in the 
present wo:k, the direct objects of which are sufficiently expressed in its title, all inci- 
dental allusions to such matters will be noticed as they occur. 



'KNIGHT'S ENGLISH MISCELLANIES' will be printed of a uniform size whh 
the 'English Classics;' but not bfeing illustrated with wood-cuts (except occasionally), 
will be sold at a proportionately cheaper rate. 



THE FIRST AND SECOND PARTS, FORMING THE FIRST VOLUME OF ' THE 
ENGLISH CAUSES CELEBRES,' Price U., in StilT Covers. 

London: CHARLES KNIGHT and Co., Ludgate STRF.r.T. 




PR 
18^0 



Goldsmith, Oliver 

Letters from a citizen 
of the world 



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