abandoned by my friends, use my body as you will, but spare, O spare my people !"*

An empire which has thus continued invariably 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 be said to annex the dominions of Tartary to its empire than to admit a foreign conqueror; an empire as large as Europe, governed by one law, acknowledging subjection to one prince, and experiencing but one revolution of any continuance 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 Laokeun, 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 happy 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

* [« On the summit of the highest eminences were lofty trees surrounding summer-houses, and cabinets contrived for retreat and pleasure. One of these was pointed out as the last striking scene of the existence of that race of emperors who had built and beautified the whole of this magnificent palace. A man, whom fortune seemed for awhile to favor, as if destined to become the head of a new dynasty in China, availed himself, towards the middle of the last century, of the weakness and luxury of the court, and of that indolence which, more than even luxury, had brought the former dynasties to ruin; with an army of Chinese, first collected under the hope of bringing about better times, and kept together afterwards by the tempting bait of plunder, he marched to the gates of Pekin. The ill-fated monarch, too slightly supported, and possessed of too little energy to resist, but with sentiments too elevated to brook submission to an enemy who had been his subject, and determining to save his offspring from the danger of dishonor, stabbed his only daughter, and put an end to his own life with a cord, in one of those edifices above mentioned, which had been erected for far other purposes."-Macartney, Embassy, vol. ii. p. 121.1

what does this tend but the destruction of thousands? Every great event is replete with some new calamity. The seasons 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 becoming a prey to those whom they had conquered. We see those barbarians, when become Christians, engaged in continual wars with the followers of Mahomet; or more dreadful still, destroying each other. We see councils in the earlier ages authorizing every iniquity; crusades spreading desolation in the country left, as well as that to be conquered; excommunications freeing subjects from natural allegiance, and persuading to sedition; blood flowing in the fields and on the scaffolds; tortures used as arguments to convince the recusant: to heighten the horror of the piece, behold it shaded with wars, rebellions, treasons, plots, politics, and poison.

And what advantage has any country of Europe obtained from such calamities? Scarcely any. Their dissensions for more than a thousand years have served to make each other unhappy, but have enriched none. All the great nations still nearly preserve their ancient limits; none have been able to subdue the other, and so terminate the dispute. France, in spite of the conquests of Edward the third and Henry the fifth, notwithstanding the efforts of Charles the fifth and Philip the second, still remains within its ancient limits. Spain, Germany, Great Britain, Poland, the states of the north, are nearly all the same. What effect, then, has the blood of so many thousands, the destruction of so many cities, produced? Nothing either great or considerable. The Christian princes have lost indeed much from the enemies of Christendom, but they have gained nothing from each other. Their princes, because they preferred ambition to justice, deserve the character of enemies to mankind; and their priests, by neg.

lecting 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 consequence: 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 hideous wilderness. But for an Alfred, an Alphonso, a Frederick, 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, &c.

We have just received accounts here that Voltaire, the poet and philosopher of Europe, is dead. He is now beyond the reach of the housand enemies who, while living, degraded his writings, and branded his character. Scarcely a page of his latter productions, that does not betray the agonies of a heart bleeding under the scourge of unmerited 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 as the world has now suffered affects me with stronger emotions. When a philosopher dies, I consider

[The account proved untrue. Voltaire died on the 30th May, 1778. His genius was greatly admired by Goldsmith, who had been introduced to him at Paris, in 1755, and who, though sensible of his errors, considered him, as many others did, one of the greatest men of his age.-See Life, ch. v.]

myself as losing a patron, an instructor, 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 capable of filling all the requisite duties of authority; but she is niggard in the birth of an exalted mind, scarcely producing in a century a single genius to bless and enlighten a degenerate age. Prodigal in the production of kings, governors, mandarines, chams, and courtiers, she seems to have forgotten, for more than three thousand years, the manner in which she once formed the brain of a Confucius; and well it is she has forgotten, when a bad world gave him so very bad a reception.

Whence, my friend, this malevolence which has ever pursued the great even to the tomb? whence this more than fiend-lik disposition of embittering the lives of those who would make u more wise and more happy?

When I cast my eyes over the fates of several philosophers, who have at different periods enlightened mankind, I must confess it inspires me with the most degrading reflections on humanity. When I read of the stripes of Mencius, the tortures of Tehin, the bowl of Socrates, and the bath of Seneca; when I hear of the persecutions of Dante, the imprisonment of Galileo, the indignities suffered by Montaigne, the banishment of Cartesius, the infamy 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 fellowcreatures.

you

the jour

Should look for the character of Voltaire among nalists and illiterate writers of the age, you will there find him characterized as a monster, with a head turned to wisdom, and a heart inclining to vice; the powers of his mind and the baseness of his principles forming a detestable contrast. But seek for his

character among writers like himself, and you find him very differently described. You perceive him, in their accounts, possessed of good-nature, humanity, greatness of soul, fortitude, and almost 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 picture, in describing the friend of man, and the patron of every rising genius.

An inflexible perseverance in what he thought was -ight, and a generous detestation 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 possessed of the same qualities, and speak of him with rapture or detestation. A person of his eminence can have few indifferent as to his 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 author of a tragedy§ which deserved applause. Possessed of a small patrimony, he preserved his independence in an age of venality, and supported the dignity of learning, by teaching his contemporary writers to live like him, above the favors of the great. He was banished his native country for a satire upon the royal concubine. He had accepted the place of historian to the French king, but refused to keep it, when he found that it was presented only in order that he should be the first flatterer of the state.

The great Prussian received him as an ornament to his kingdom, and had sense enough to value his friendship, and profit by his instructions. In this court he continued, till an intrigue,

* Philosophe Sans Souci. + Lettres Chinoises.

Encyclopédie.

§ [Amulius et Numitor. This tragedy was written before Voltaire had completed his thirteenth year.-Biog. Univ]