es the luxury of the one produce half erks of the inhumanity of the other? rtainly, those philosophers who declaim ainst axury have but little understood benefits; they seem insensible, that to cury we owe not only the greatest part our knowledge, but even of our virtues. It may sound fine in the mouth of a damer, when he talks of subduing ir appetites, of teaching every sense to e comment with a bare sufficiency, and of ying only the wants of nature; but there not more satisfaction in indulging how appetites, if with innocence and ey, than in restraining them? Am not ter pleased in enjoyment than in the en satisfaction of thinking that I can ve without enjoyment? The more vaYour artificial necessities, the wider is erde of pleasure; for all pleasures in obviating necessities as they G: luxury, therefore, as it increases wants, increases our capacity for mine the history of any country reble for opulence and wisdom, you fnd they would never have been wise they not been first luxurious; you fnd poets, philosophers, and even Pots, marching in luxury's train. The ais obvious: we then only are curious #knowledge, when we find it connected sensual happiness. The senses ever out the way, and reflection comments - the discovery. Inform a native of the desert of Kobi of the exact measure the parallax of the moon, he finds no fiction at all in the information; he ers how any could take such pains, ay out such treasures, in order to solve eless a difficulty: but connect it with appiness, by showing that it improves zation-that by such an investigation may have a warmer coat, a better gun, 2 finer knife,-and he is instantly in ntures at so great an improvement. In bort, we only desire to know what we sire to possess; and whatever we may k against it, luxury adds the spur to rosity, and gives us a desire of becoming ore wise. But not our knowledge only, but our tues are improved by luxury. Observe be brown savage of Thibet, to whom the fruits of the spreading pomegranate supply food, and its branches an habitation. Such a character has few vices, I grant, but those he has are of the most hideous nature: rapine and cruelty are scarcely crimes in his eye; neither pity nor tenderness, which ennoble every virtue, have any place in his heart; he hates his enemies, and kills those he subdues. On the other hand, the polite Chinese and civilized European seem even! to love their enemies. I have just now seen an instance, where the English have succoured those enemies whom their own countrymen actually refused to relieve. The greater the 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 happiness: it is more likely, therefore, that 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 employing a number of hands, naturally too feeble for more laborious employment; as finding a variety of occupation 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 shall have reason to stand up in its defence, and the sentiment of Confucius still remains unshaken: "That we should enjoy as many of the luxuries of life as are consistent with our own safety and the prosperity of others; and that he who finds out a new pleasure, is one of the most useful members of society." LETTER XII. To the same. FROM the funeral solemnities of the Daures, who 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 numberless ceremonies which are used here when a person is sick appear to me so many evident marks of fear and apprehension. Ask an Englishman, however, whether he is afraid of death, and he boldly answers in the negative; but observe his behaviour in circumstances of approaching sickness, and you will find his actions give his assertions the lie. The Chinese are very sincere in this respect; they hate to die, and they confess their 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 the necessaries of life that he may be amply provided for when he shall want them no more. But people of distinction in England really deserve pity, for they die in circumstances of the most extreme distress. It is an established 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 sickbed. 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 entreat him to make his will, as it may restore the tranquillity of his mind. He is desired to undergo the rites of the Church, for decency requires it. His friends take their leave only because they do not care to see him in pain. In short, an 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 friends. The bed is surrounded with priests and doctors in black, and only flambeaux emit a yellow gloom. Where is the man, how intrepid soever, that would not shrink at such a hideous solemnity? For fear of affrighting their expiring friends, the English practise all that can fill them with terror. Strange effect of human prejudice, thus to torture, merely from mistaken tenderness! You see, my friend, what contradictions there are in the tempers of these islanders: when prompted by ambition, revenge, or disappointment, they meet death with the utmost resolution: the very man who in his bed would have trembled at the as of a doctor, shall go with intrepidit attack a bastion, or deliberately n himself up in his garters. The passion of the Europeans for n nificent interments is equally strong y that of the Chinese. When a tradesi dies, his frightful face is painted up by undertaker, and placed in a proper si tion to receive company: this is ca lying in state. To this disagreeable s tacle all the idlers in town flock, learn to loath the wretch dead whom t despised when living. In this manner, see some who would have refused a shil to save the life of their dearest friend, stow thousands on adorning their pa corpse. I have been told of a fell who, grown rich by the price of blood, it in his will that he should lie in sta and thus unknowingly gibbeted him into infamy, when he might have otl wise quietly retired into oblivion. When the person is buried, the n care is to make his epitaph: they generally reckoned best which flatter me such relations, therefore, as have receiv most benefits from the defunct, discha this friendly office, and generally flatter proportion to their joy. When we re these monumental histories of the dead, may be justly said, that all men are equ in the dust; for they all appear equally markable for being the most sincere Chr tians, the most benevolent neighbours, a the honestest men of their time. To through an European cemetery, one wou be apt to wonder how mankind could fi so basely degenerated from such excelle ancestors. Every tomb pretends to clai your reverence and regret; some a praised for piety, in those inscriptions, w never entered the temple until they we dead; some are praised for being excelle poets, who were never mentioned exce for their dulness when living; others i sublime orators, who were never noted e cept for their impudence; and others sta for military achievements, who were nev in any other skirmishes but with the wate Some even make epitaphs for themselv and bespeak the reader's good-will. were indeed to be wished, that every as would early learn in this manner to ma own; that he would draw it up in terms I have not yet been in a place called hash to own. lways was of opinion, that sepulchral of this kind should be considered $ational concern, and not trusted to here of the priests of any country, how esertable soever: but from the conduct e reverend personages, whose disinted patriotism I shall shortly be able over, I am taught to retract my fore sentiments. It is true, the Spartans the Persians made a fine political use chral vanity: they permitted none thus interred who had not fallen in indication of their country. A monuthus became a real mark of distincbeit nerved the hero's arm with tenfold st, and he fought without fear who y fought for a grave.—Farewell. dark ceilings. Think, then, what were my sensations at being introduced to such a scene. I stood in the midst of the temple, and threw my eyes round on the walls, filled with the statues, the inscriptions, and the monuments of the dead. Alas! I said to myself, how does pride attend 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 immortality, 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 conversation, and politely offered to be my instructor and guide through the temple. "If any monument," said he, "should particularly 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 conducted, as it can no ways injure those who are flattered, so it may be a glorious incentive to those who are now capable of enjoying it. It is the duty of every good government to turn this monumental pride to its own advantage; to become strong in the aggregate from the weakness of the individual. If none but the truly great have a place in this awful repository, a temple like this will give the finest lessons of morality, and be a strong incentive to true ambition. I am told, that none have a place here but characters of the most distinguished 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 particularly curious about one monument, which appeared more beautiful than the rest. "That," said I to my guide, "I take to be the tomb of some very great man. 66 66 By the peculiar excellence of the work of the temple, "There," says the gen manship, and the magnificence of the man, pointing with his finger, "that is design, this must be a trophy raised to the Poet's Corner; there you see the me memory of some king who has saved his ments of Shakspeare, and Milton, country from ruin, or lawgiver who has Prior, and Drayton.”—“Drayton !" reduced his fellow-citizens from anarchy | plied; “I never heard of him before; into just subjection."-"It is not requi- I have been told of one Pope—is he ther site," replied my companion, smiling, "to -“It is time enough," replied my gui have such qualifications in order to have "these hundred years; he is not long de a very fine monument here: more humble people have not done hating him yet.' abilities will suffice."-"What! I suppose, Strange," cried I; can any be for then, the gaining two or three battles, to hate a man whose life was wholly sp or the taking half a score of towns, is in entertaining and instructing his fell thought a sufficient qualification?"- creatures?" 'Yes," says my guide, "t 'Gaining battles, or taking towns," replied hate him for that very reason. There a the Man in Black, "may be of service; set of men called answerers of books, v but a gentleman may have a very fine take upon them to watch the republic monument here without ever seeing a bat- letters, and distribute reputation by tle or a siege."—"This, then, is the monu- sheet; they somewhat resemble the ment of some poet, I presume-of one nuchs in a seraglio, who are incapable whose wit has gained him immortality?" giving pleasure themselves, and hin "No, sir," replied my guide, "the gen- those that would. These answerers h tleman who lies here never made verses; no other employment but to cry out Du and as for wit, he despised it in others, and Scribbler; to praise the dead : because he had none himself."-"Pray tell revile the living; to grant a man of c me, then, in a word," said I, peevishly, fessed abilities some small share of me "what is the great man who lies here par- to applaud twenty blockheads in order ticularly remarkable for?"-"Remark- gain the reputation of candour; and able, sir!" said my companion; "why, revile the moral character of the m sir, the gentleman that lies here is remark- whose writings they cannot injure. able, very remarkable-for a tomb in West- wretches are kept in pay by some m minister Abbey."-"But, head of my cenary bookseller, or more frequently: ancestors! how has he got here? I fancy bookseller himself takes this dirty wo he could never bribe the guardians of the off their hands, as all that is required temple to give him a place. Should he to be very abusive and very dull. not be ashamed to be seen among company poet of any genius is sure to find su where even moderate merit would look enemies; he feels, though he seems like infamy?"-"I suppose," replied the despise, their malice; they make h Man in Black, "the gentleman was rich, miserable here, and in the pursuit of emp and his friends, as is usual in such a case, fame, at last he gains solid anxiety." told him he was great. He readily believed them; the guardians of the temple, as they got by the self-delusion, were ready to believe him too; so he paid his money for a fine monument; and the workman, as you see, has made him one of the most beautiful. Think not, however, that this gentleman is singular in his desire of being buried among the great; there are several others in the temple, 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 Ev "Has this been the case with every p I see here?" cried I.-"Yes, with eve mother's son of them," replied he, cept he happened to be born a mandari: If he has much money, he may buy ref tation from your book-answerers, as as a monument from the guardians of t temple." "But are there not some men of d tinguished taste, as in China, who a willing to patronize men of merit, and sett the rancour of malevolent dulness.” "I own there are many," replied t Man in Black; “but, alas! sir, the boo iswerers crowd about them, and call themIves the writers of books; and the patron too indolent to distinguish: thus poets e kept at a distance, while their enemies at all their rewards at the mandarine's ible." Leaving this part of the temple, we made p to an iron gate, through which my Companion 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 sach a demand; and asked the man, whether the people of England kept a b-whether the paltry sum he demanded was not a national reproach? whether it was not more to the honour of the country to let their magnificence or their antiquities be openly seen, than thus early to tax a curiosity which tended to their own honour?-"As for your questrs replied the gate-keeper, “to be they may be very right, because I dnt understand them; but, as for that Sere threepence, I farm it from one-who as it from another-who hires it from third-who leases it from the guardians the temple: and we all must live." I *racted, upon paying here, to see someg extraordinary, since what I had seen thing filled me with so much surprise: in this I was disappointed; there was Te more within than black coffins, rusty Tour, tattered standards, and some few venly figures in wax. I was sorry I had , but I comforted myself by considerit would be my last payment. A perattended us who without once blushing ian hundred lies: he talked of a lady o died by pricking her finger; of a king a golden head, and twenty such pieces absurdity. "Look ye there, gentlezen," says he, pointing to an old oak ir, "there's a curiosity for ye; in that chair the kings of England were crowned: you see also a stone underneath, and that one is Jacob's pillow." I could see no curiosity either in the oak chair or the one: could I, indeed, behold one of the old kings of England seated in this, or Jacob's head laid upon the other, there might be something curious in the sight; but in the present case, there was no more reason for my surprise, than if I should pick a stone from their streets, and call it a curiosity, merely because one of the kings happened to tread upon it as he passed in a procession. From hence our conductor led us through several dark walks and winding ways, uttering lies, talking to himself, and flourishing a wand which he held in his hand. He reminded 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. "This armour," said he, "belonged to General Monk.”"Very 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 cap also! Pray, friend, what might this cap have cost originally?"—"That, sir," says he, "I don't know; but this cap is all the wages I have for my trouble."—". A very small recompense, truly," said I.-"Not so very small," replied he, "for every gentleman puts some money into it, and I 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 temple should pay you your wages, friend, and not permit you to squeeze thus from every spectator. When we pay 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 returned to my lodgings, in order to ruminate over what was great, and to despise what was mean, in the occurrences of the day. LETTER XIV. To the same. I WAS some days ago agreeably surprised by a message from a lady of distinction, who sent me word, that she most passionately desired the pleasure of my acquaint |