Oldalképek
PDF
ePub

requiring, as I have elsewhere observed, from the person last seen in company with one who may have received a mortal wound, or who may have died suddenly, a circumstantial account, supported by evidence, in what manner his death was occasioned.' P. 366.

If the Chinese subject is thus released from the vexation attending the intricate and voluminous codes of European law, he is in possession of another no less inestimable advantage:

The amount of his taxes is ascertained. He is never required to contribute, by any new assessment, to make up a given sum for the extraordinary expences of the state, except in cases of rebellion, when an additional tax is sometimes imposed on the neighbouring provinces. But in general the executive government must adapt its wants to the ordinary supplies, instead of calling on the people for extraordinary contributions. The amount of the revenues of this great empire has been differently stated. As the principal branch, the land-tax, is paid in kind, it is indeed scarcely possible to estimate the receipt of it accurately, as it will greatly depend on the state of the crop. An emperor who aims at popularity never fails to remit this tax or rent, in such districts as have suffered by drought or inundation. Chou-ta-gin gave to lord Macartney, from the imperial rent-roll, a rough sketch of the sums raised in each province, making them to amount in the whole to about sixty-six millions sterling; which is not more than twice the revenue of the state in Great Britain, exclusive of the poor's rate and other parochial taxes, in 1803, and which gives, as I before observed, if reduced to a capitation, the sum of about four shillings for each individual, whilst that of Great Britain, by an analogous computation, would amount to about fifteen times that sum. I should suppose, however, that a shilling in China, generally speaking, will go as far as three in Great Britain.

From the produce of the taxes the civil and military establishments, and all the incidental and extraordinary expences, are first paid on the spot where they are incurred, out of the provincial magazines, and the remainder is remitted to the imperial treasury in Pekin to meet the expences of the court, the establishment of the emperor, his palaces, temples, gardens, women, and princes of the blood. The confiscations, presents, tributes, and other arti cles, may be reckoned as his privy purse. The surplus revenue remitted to Pekin, in the year 1792, was stated to be about 36,000,000 ounces of silver, or 12,000,000l. sterling. It is a general opinion among the Chinese part of his subjects, that vast sums of the surplus revenue and such as arise from confiscations are annually sent to Moukden, the capital of Man-tchoo Tartary; but this should appear to be an erroneous opinion founded on prejudice. Notwithstanding the enormous wealth of Ho-tchung-tang, that filled the imperial coffers, the present emperor found it necessary the same year to accept an offering, as it was called, of 500,000 ounces of silver, or 166,6661. sterling, from the salt merchants of Canton, and sums of money and articles of merchandize from

other quarters, to enable him to quell a rebellion that was raging in one of the western provinces. He even sent down to Canton a quantity of pearls, agates, serpentines, and other stones of little value, in the hope of raising a temporary supply from the sale of them to foreign merchants. The emperor of China, therefore, has not so much wealth at his disposal as has usually been imagined. He even accepts of patriotic gifts from individuals, consisting of pieces of porcelain, silks, fans, tea, and such-like trifling articles, which afterwards serve as presents to foreign embassadors, and each gift is pompously proclaimed in the Pekin gazette.'

(To be continued.)

P. 402.

ART. II.-Original Correspondence of Jean Jacques Rousseau, with Mad. la Tour de Franqueville, and M. du Peyrou late Burgher of Neufchâtel. Translated from the French. 2 vols. δυο. 123. Boards. Johnson. 1804.

THE present is not an age which can be charged with want of curiosity in what relates to the literary characters by which it has been distinguished. Genius is every where traced to the closet and the fireside. This narrow inspection of illustrious personages, to which every reader presses forward with such eagerness, has had perhaps a beneficial effect by repressing that blind admiration, which, dazzled by the splendour of talent, is unable to discern its spots. Hence we learn to approve with judgment, and to praise with discrimination. But unfortunately the thirst of examining genius thus minutely, increases by indulgence without limit. At least thus much is certain, that it never has existed in a higher degree, and never has been more abundantly gratified than in the present day. This gratification may, however, be carried too far.

all the discriminating traits of character are exhausted, the strokes of the pencil cease to improve the portrait, and, when we have been repeatedly told how a man wrote and talked," what remains but to inform us of many of those minutia which serve rather to disgust than to please?

If this extreme minuteness may be carried too far in writing memoirs, much more may it in the publication of original correspondence. For in this case, superadded to other evils, is that of defeating its own purpose, and at the same time of doing away the unreserved flow of soul which forms the principal charm of epistolary composition. The idea pingo posteris,' that he is writing for posterity, will occur to the literary man, and blend itself in the most trivial concerns of life. Every idle word, spoken or written, will be a formal exhibition. He will be afraid of

[ocr errors]

writing without constraint to settle with his banker or his bookseller; and (what is the worst of all) in his letters to his nearest friends or relatives, instead of pouring forth the untaught language of the heart, he will be occupied in pointing conceits and rounding periods.

These remarks are not altogether inapplicable to the work, the translation of which is now before us. Many of Rousseau's letters contained in the latter series have been already published, and in them various paragraphs of a more trifling nature were omitted. These paragraphs are in the present publication restored, together with all the letters addressed to the same person, which complete the series; and though this completion of it was certainly desirable, yet in many instances we think the omitted passages might have still slept in the library of Neufchâtel without occasioning much regret to the reader, or any defect in the elucidation of the writer's life and character.

The correspondence before us consists, as the title-page announces, of two separate series of letters: the first containing those which passed between Rousseau and Mad. la Tour de Franqueville from the year 1761 to 1776; the latter, those addressed by Rousseau to his intimate friend M. du Peyrou, of Neufchâtel, between the years 1764 and 1771. The reason of their being published so long after the author's death is too tedious for us to detail. One thing we have to complain of, which is, that of the hundred letters to M. du Peyrou here presented to the public, not fewer than thirty-nine have appeared before among other letters published in one edition or another of the author's works, and are to be found translated into English in the last volume of his Confessions published in 1790. Nevertheless the French editor assures us in the preface with considerable effrontery, that two or three had been previously published, meaning in the collection of Rousseau's letters inserted in his works.

The correspondence with Mad. la Tour de Franqueville commences in a very singular manner. About thirty years of age when the correspondence begins, and married to an unworthy husband, she is complimented by a married female friend, who is like herself an enthusiastic admirer of Rousseau's works, with the title of Julia, a character in the New Eloisa to which she is supposed to bear a resemblance. The rest will be best explained by an extract from this friend's anonymous letter to Rousseau, which is the first of the series:

As I can no longer defend my vanity, but by concealing myselt, you will not be informed who I am; but this you will know, That Julia is not dead, and that she lives to cherish her affection for you. That she who writes to you is not Julia ber style will soon

[ocr errors]

convince you. I am at most the cousin of that Julia, or rather, like Clara, her inseparable friend; and, if I have not the merit of that friend, I have at least her sentiments and zeal. I have insisted with the divine creature, who is my friend, that the soul of Julia lives in her frame; with the exception, however, of Julia's fault; and all who know how to estimate her maintain the same. This, from excess of modesty, she refuses to admit, and with a sublime candour, which but characterises her the more, assures us that to resemble Julia in every thing she would even have committed her fault; and that she is no otherwise sure of not committing such a fault than because no such man as St. Preux is to be found (supposing, however, she were not a married woman). I assured her I would tell you all she said; she set me at defiance; I keep my word: all this is the reason of my writing to you, If the step I have taken should appear to you absurd, so much the better": you must at least retract the kind-hearted Chaillot's argument to the charming Clara before you accuse me of downright extravagance. For the rest, believe of me as you please. I am a personage of no importance on the canvas that will be placed before you: I am but as one added to the list of your adıniters, and one. too whose suffrage is so unworthy of your consideration that you cannot but regard it with indifference. I return to my Julia, whom you certainly never thought to have any existence but in your brilliant and fertile imagination. Let me, however, convince you that you have sketched her correctly from my original-yes, feature for feature, as if you had known my Julia. The same sublimity of soul, the same delicacy, the same filial devotion, the same kindness to her dependents, by whom she is adored, the same sensibility for the unfortunate, the same strength of intellect, the same gracefulness of motion, the same accomplishments, the same sagacity, the same facility in conversation, and more than all this, the most perfect generosity of conduct towards a husband extremely different from Wolmar. You may rely with confidence on the woman who praises an individual of her sex, whose superiority, during an intimate friendship of ten years standing, she has constantly been sensible of. Julia, sir, exists; do not doubt it: why, I might ask, should you doubt it? A Rousseau exists; this no one doubts; and how is this less surprising than the other? This Julia, who nourishes a decided aversion for new acquaintances, is anxiously desirous to obtain yours. She scarcely dares to flatter herself that she shall obtain it; but she hopes that at least I shall be able to shew her an answer in your writing. This confidence is the only consideration that could have prevailed on her to allow me to speak of her to you. If you do not wish to disappoint her expectations, address your reply to whom? Ah! there's the difficulty! Your attention, I pray you. Your letter for me should be left blank on the outside, and then put into a cover directed to the Marchioness de Solar, au Parc aux Cerfs, Versailles. It will be faithfully forwarded to my hands. The marchioness could give you no account as to who I am, for she knows no more of me than

the person to whom I write, and of whom I have the honour to be, with all the sentiments he so well knows how to inspire, the very humble and ́obedient servant.

[ocr errors]

My husband knows and approves of this letter.' Vol. I. P. 2.

The philosopher appears at first inclined to humour the joke, and sends an immediate answer, in which he certainly is as polite as the secrecy of his correspondent could lead her to expect. To the editor of Julia (says he) you announce another Julia, a Julia who really lives, say you, and to whom you yourself are the living Clara! I am transported at this, both on account of your sex and my own; for, spite of what your friend may please to say, wherever there are Julias and Claras, there will not fail to be St. Preuxs also.' This is followed up by a rejoinder from the fictitious Clara, accompanied by one from her friend, written not with quite the same air of sprightliness, but with more ease and grace.

• I should be apprehensive' (says she) that you would think my claim unreasonable, if I had the intention of intruding more than once on the leisure that must necessarily be so valuable. But I passionately desire to be the possessor of a letter written with your hand; I will then importune you no more. Let not the termination of an intercourse I ought never to have begun, occasion you uneasiness: -Is it possible that to you any thing can be wanting? If Julia has really existed, you are yourself St. Preux: in this case, her memory is doubtless your sole occupation: if she is only the chefd'œuvre of your imagination, take my advice, worship still the image you have set up; for the Creator has made no work so perfect as yours. Adieu, sir :--what the zeal of my Clara, with the view of raising me in your esteem, enabled you to understand of the conduct of my husband, compels me to conceal my name: I cannot name him, because I will not be his accuser: I believe you know him: I should therefore run the risk of depriving him of your esteem, a benefit of too great price for me to occasion him such an injury. You therefore will remain ignorant of who I am. For myself, I am content with your knowing that I entertain for you all the sentiments that can be derived from the conviction that your writings are the portrait of the soul, heart, genius, and chaacter of their author. Vol. I. P. 15.

It is easy to perceive that the renunciation contained in this letter is only the language of her who would not unsought be won. For, as these two letters unfortunately do not reach their destination, the ladies renew the attack, with many gentle reproaches on the philosopher's silence. On the receipt of these last, he answers Clara not without some indications of choler at the trick (for such he suspects it to be) of the letter

« ElőzőTovább »