grown insensible to nicer feelings, behave like the Spaniard, who, when all his money was gone, endeavored to borrow more, by offering to pawn his whiskers. Adieu.

LETTER CIII.

THE CHINESE PHILOSOPHER BEGINS TO THINK OF QUITTING

ENGLAND.

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

I have just received a letter from my son, in which he informs me of the fruitlessness of his endeavors to recover the lady with whom he fled from Persia. He strives to cover, under the appearance of fortitude, a heart torn with anxiety and disappointment. I have offered little consolation, since that but too frequently feeds the sorrow which it pretends to deplore, and strengthens the impression, which nothing but the external rubs of time and accident can thoroughly effect.

He informs me of his intention of quitting Moscow the first opportunity, and travelling by land to Amsterdam. I must, therefore, upon his arrival, entreat the continuance of your friendship, and beg of you to provide him with proper directions for finding me in London. the joy I expect upon seeing him once more: the ties between the father and the son among us of China, are much more closely drawn than with you of Europe.

You can scarcely be sensible of

The remittances sent me from Argun to Moscow came in safety. I cannot sufficiently admire that spirit of honesty, which prevails through the whole country of Siberia: perhaps the savages of that desolate region are the only untutored people of the globe that cultivate the moral virtues, even without knowing

that their actions merit praise. I have been told surprising things of their goodness, benevolence, and generosity and the uninterrupted commerce between China and Russia serves as a collateral confirmation.

"Let us," says the Chinese lawgiver, "admire the rude virtues of the ignorant, but rather imitate the delicate morals of the polite." 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 carried to excess, yet every virtue is practised also with unexampled superiority. 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 philosopher can every day meet new incitements 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 reside here for life. There is something so seducing in that spot in which we first had existence, that nothing but it can please. Whatever vicissitudes we experience in life, however we toil, or wheresoever we wander, our fatigued wishes still recur to home for tranquillity: we long to die in that spot which gave us birth, and in that pleasing expectation opiate every calamity.

You now, therefore, perceive that I have some intentions of leaving this country; and yet my designed departure fills me with reluctance and regret. Though the friendships of travellers are generally more transient than vernal snows, still I feel an uneasiness at breaking the connections 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 support the fatigues of the way with

redoubled ardor, pleased at once with conveying instruction, and exacting obedience.

Adieu.

LETTER CIV.

THE ARTS SOME MAKE USE OF TO APPEAR LEARNED.

From the Lien Chi Altangi to Fum Hoam, &c.

Our scholars in China have a most profound veneration for forms. A first-rate beauty never 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 philosophical whiskers, their philosophical slippers and philosophical fans: there is even a philosophical standard for measuring the nails; and yet, with all this seeming wisdom, they are often found to be mere empty pretenders.

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 profound, or naturally possessed of a fine understanding; who labor hard to obtain the titular honors attending literary merit, who flatter others, in order to be flattered in turn, and only study to be thought students.

A character of this kind generally receives company 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 dozing, mending pens, feeling his pulse, peeping through the microscope, and sometimes reading amusing book, which he condemns in company. His library is preserved with the most religious neatness, and is generally a repository of scarce books,

which bear a high price, because too dull or useless to become common by the ordinary methods of publication.

Such men are generally candidates for admittance into literary clubs, academies, and institutions, where they regularly meet to give and receive a little instruction, and a great deal of praise. In conversation they never betray ignorance, because they never seem to receive information. Offer a new observation, they have heard it before; pinch them in an argument, and they reply with a sneer.

Yet, how trifling soever these little arts may appear, they answer one valuable purpose, of gaining the practisers the esteem they wish for. The bounds of a man's knowledge are easily concealed, if he has but prudence; but all can readily see and admire a gilt library, a set of long nails, a silver standish, or a wellcombed whisker, who are incapable of distinguishing a dunce.

When Father Matthew," the first European missioner, en tered China, the court was informed that he possessed great skill in astronomy; he was therefore sent for, and examined. The established astronomers of state undertook this task; and made their report to the emperor, that his skill was but very superficial, and no way comparable to their own. The missioner, however, appealed from their judgment to experience, and challenged them to calculate an eclipse of the moon that was to happen a few nights following. "What!" said some, "shall a barbarian without nails pretend to vie with men in astronomy, who have made it the study of their lives; with men who know half the knowa

* [Father Matthew Ricci, who may justly be considered as the first founder of the Catholic Mission to China, was born at Macerata in 1552. By his intimate knowledge of the mathematical and experimental sciences, he had the means of making friends and converts. He was much esteemed by the emperor, and was permitted to build a church at Pekin; where he died in 1610, leaving behind him some valuable memoirs respecting China, which have been made use of by Père Frigault, in his history of that empire.-See Moreri, and Davis's Chinese, vol. i. p. 30.]

ble characters of words, who wear scientifical caps and slippers, and who have gone through every literary degree with applause ?" They accepted the challenge, confident of success. The eclipse began the Chinese produced a most splendid apparatus, and were fifteen minutes wrong; the missioner, 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 their calculations were certainly exact, but that the stranger without nails had actually bewitched the moon. "Well, then," cries the good emperor, smiling at their ignorance, "you shall still continue to be servants of the moon; but I constitute this man her controller.

China is thus replete with men, whose only pretensions to knowledge arise from external circumstances; and in Europe, every country abounds with them in proportion to its ignorance. Spain and Flanders, who are behind the rest of Europe in learning at least three centuries, have twenty literary titles and marks of distinction unknown in France or England: they have their Clarissimi and Præclarissimi, their Accuratissimi and Minutissimi; a round cap entitles one student to argue, and a square cap permits another to teach; while a cap with a tassel almost sanctifies the head it happens to cover. But, where true knowledge is cultivated, these formalities begin to disappear; the ermined cowl, the solemn beard, and the sweeping train are laid aside; philosophers dress, and talk, and think 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 presuming ignorance, never to venerate wisdom but where it actually appears. I have received literary titles and distinctions myself; and, by the quantity of my own wisdom, know how very little wisdom they can confer. Adieu.