ing off the productions of his rival as his own, in particular a superb ode to a pear-tree, which was considered in the family as quite a mas terpiece. We may remark en passant that the Chinese poets seem to select their subjects, in preference, from the vegetable kingdom; and that among the various sorts of plants the pear-tree is not the least favourite. In this way, however, Chang, though a coarse and ill-favoured, as well as an exclusively prosaic character, acquires much credit in the house, and seems to be in a fair way to carry off the prize. At length Sa, by good luck, and the help of a pretty but knowing cham bermaid, in a green gauze robe, with red crape sleeves, called Yanson, succeeds in discovering the trick that has been put upon him, and proving to the satisfaction of the young lady, that he is the author of his own poems. After putting his talent to one more test by imposing upon him a difficult acrostic, as a final trial of his skill in poetry, of which he acquits himself as usual, Jasper, overcome by so many proofs of a real talent for all sorts of versification, finally gives her consent that he should apply to her father for her hand. These communications are managed through the medium of the soubrette. Sa pleads hard, not for a personal interview, the possibility of which does not occur to him even in imagination, but for an opportunity of seeing his mistress at a distance in profile. Such however is the strictness of the Chinese manners in this particular, that even for this, according to our usages, somewhat modest request, he is taken severely to task by the very chambermaid. "It is growing late,' says Sa, at the close of one of his conversations with this person, and I must take my leave. Could not I, however, under favour of the darkness, and while there is no one here, obtain a glimpse of your young mistress, were it only in profile ?' "A strange proposal this,' replied Yanson. 'Let me tell you, Sir, that my young lady is a person whose virtue is equal to her wit; and that she is governed in all her actions by the strictest rules of propriety. The affair in which she is now engaged is the most important of her life, and she cannot be blamed for endeavouring to obtain a husband worthy of her. But your request, Sir, seems to show that your morals do not correspond with your talent. If I were to make it known to my mistress, she would despise you for it, and reject your suit without hesitation.'" Thus severely reprimanded by our stern moralist in red crape sleeves and a green gauze petticoat, and being now more tractable, it seems, in taking a lady's charms on credit, than on the former occasion, Sa is fain to give the matter up, and begs a thousand pardons for his indiscretion. Even these indirect communications are considered too irregular to be made known to the old gentle. man Pa; and it is agreed between the lovers that Sa, without alluding to any thing that has passed, shall apply to the father through the intervention of the uncle Gu. A matrimonial negotiation must always be conducted through a third person. For this purpose Sa sets off immediately for Pekin, whither Gu had in the mean time returned. In consequence of his absence, Chang, now left entirely to his own resources, is soon unmasked by the father, brought to a decisive trial, from which it appears that he cannot write a passable couplet, "were it his neck-verse at Hairibee," and being thus plucked of the borrowed feathers, in which he has hitherto plumed himself, is dismissed ignominiously from the house. Such is the solution of the second principal difficulty which obstructs the happiness of the lovers, and which carries us forward to the middle of the third volume. From this point the current of the action proceeds with comparative smoothness, though not wholly free from shoals and rapids, the nature of which we have not room to describe in detail. The leading object of the last volume and a half is not so much to create and remove new obstructions to the marriage of the principal parties, as to bring forward the second heroine, Dream-of-a-Pear-tree, whose introduction is effected in the following manner. After taking leave of his mistress in the manner above described, our hero sets off for the capital of the empire, where he expects to find uncle Gu. He gets on for some time prosperously enough; but at length falls in with a band of robbers, and is stripped of every ounce of silver that he has about him. In this embarrassing situation he has recourse to his talent for poetry to recruit his finances, or in the more popular phrase, "to raise the wind." It is observed by Voltaire, in reference to the great Frederic, that there is always some hope of a king who can write verses; and it appears from the present example, that the rule may be extended to private citizens, at least in China. It so happens that a magistrate named Li, residing at the village where the robbery takes place, is preparing a large screen in four parts, as a present for his superior officer; and having already adorned each part with a painting, wants nothing but the appropriate poetical inscriptions to complete his plan. The province of Canton, where the scene is now laid, is, it seems, not so dear to the Muses, as some others, particularly that of Nankin; and Li no sooner hears that there is a Nankin poet in town, than he invites him to his house for the purpose of putting his talent in requisition. Sa writes the four inscriptions at a sitting, for on this as on all other occasions he (and the case is the same with all the other poets that are mentioned) produces poetry of the first order with a facility only paralleled by that of the Scotts, the Southeys, and the Byrons of our time. Whenever they take the pencil in hand, the author is careful to mention the expedition with which they work; and seems to be at a loss for words and images sufficiently strong to give a complete notion of it. Thus, in the present instance, his enthusiasm at the rapidity with which his hero wrote the inscriptions, transports him above the regions of plain prose into the following quatrain ; "The movement of his hand was not slow like that of a pedestrian. "But as rapid as the course of the swiftest steed. "He starts off and checks his flight with the lightness of a winged spirit; "His thoughts cover the paper as the fleecy clouds spread themselves over the sky." In the same way, when he sits down on a previous occasion, by order of his mistress, to write the acrostic which is to decide his fate, notwithstanding the delicacy of the situation, he loses nothing of the freedom of thought and expression. "Pearls and diamonds," says the author, "flew about the paper like drops of rain in an April shower." So when the heroine produces the little chef d'euvre, which we quoted from the first chapter, "Thoughts drop from her pencil, like rain from a dark summer cloud; and spring up under her rapid hand in seven-fold clusters of flowers, till the whole paper becomes, as it were, a chain of pearls and diamonds." It must be owned that the Chinese poets, like the Vicar of Wakefield's painter, are not sparing of their jewellery. A slow manner of composing, on the other hand, is the invariable accompaniment of dulness. Thus Pa, after bringing Chang and another stupid pretender to the experimentum crucis, goes back to his daughter, and tells her that they had been wagging their heads over their inkstands the whole afternoon, without being able to shake out a word. These passages seem to imply a false notion of the difficulty of writing good poetry, which, we imagine, does not lie in the metrical arrangement, or mere form, as is here supposed. When the rules of versification are once settled, and good models given, it is rather easier to express ideas in these regular measures, than to write harmonious prose. The difficulty lies in supplying "the thoughts that breathe and words that burn." These are articles which, as Géronte in the play says of the five hundred crowns, ne se trouvent point dans le pas d'un cheval; and there is great room for choice among the fruits of even the finest intellect. "Good poetry," says Gray, "requires the best talents, and the best of those talents." It must flow with ease, and at the same time exhibit the vigour of thought or imagination, and the finished style, all which supposes labour, meditation, and reflection. This was the opinion of Boileau, when he boasted that he had taught Molière to write easy verses with difficulty; Je lui ai appris l'art de faire difficilement des vers faciles. When a person writes with great rapidity, or, in other words, sets down his ideas as fast as they occur to him, without study or selection, it is certain, whatever may be his talent, that his work cannot be of the first order. In general your easy writing, as was well observed by the author of the "School for Scandal," is the hardest reading a man can undertake. To return however from this digression; our hero, while engaged in writing his inaloud, in a pavilion placed in the garden scription in the garden, bears a person say granate trees without the wall are in full adjoining and overlooking his, that the pomebloom. This was of course a strong temptation to the flowery fancy of a Chinese; and as soon as he has finished his work, Sa walks out to see the show, in which he is at first rather disappointed, but soon penetrates the real meaning of the remark, when he finds himself accosted by a handsome youth, who issues from a door in the wall of the adjoining garden, and who proves to be no other than Dream-of-aPear-tree in disguise. If Red-Jasper hold the post of heroine, this visionary beauty has, we suspect, the whole heart of our author, though he allows her only half of that of his hero. He describes her on this her first appearance in the following terms. "The gate was seen to open, and there came out a youth of about fifteen or sixteen years of age, dressed in a violet robe with a light cap on his head. His vermillion lips, brilliant white teeth, and arched eyebrows, gave him the air of a charming girl. So graceful and airy are his movements, that one might well ask, whether he be mortal or a heavenly spirit. He looks like a sylph formed of the essence of flowers, or a soul descended from the moon. Is it indeed a youth who has come out to divert himself, or is it a sweet perfume from the inner apartment?" This charming person enters into a long conversation with our hero which gradually assumes a confidential character. Sa acquaints his new companion with his engagement to Mademoiselle Pa (as M. Remusat generally styles the young lady), who proves to be a cousin of the supposed youth before him. The latter, on hearing of the engagement, remarks that the empire is vast, and inquires of Sa what he would do, if he should find in the course of his travels another damsel equally remarkable for grace, beauty, and poetical talent with his mistress. To this point-blank question Sa very naturally replies, that he has but one heart; which in English would probably be understood to mean, that his affections were preoccupied, and that he could not do justice to the merit of any other object; but being interpreted à la Chinoise, implies, that he cannot be insensible to beauty wherever he meets with it, and that if he should become acquainted with another young lady as lovely as Miss Pa, he should of course love her as much. "If such be the case," rejoins the youth, I may venture to inform you, that I have a younger sister about sixteen years of age, who was in the pavilion yesterday while you were writing, and was so much struck with your agreeable person and dexterity in handling the pencil, that she fairly lost her heart upon the spot. I easily discovered her inclinations, and as we are orphans, and have no friends to provide for our establishment in the regular way, I took it upon me to sound you on the subject; but since your affections are elsewhere engaged, it were better perhaps to think no more about the matter." In answer to this, Sa proposes the expedient of a double marriage, which appears to be satisfactory to the other party; and it is then arranged, that he shall proceed to the capital, as he originally intended, and after settling the preliminaries of his alliance with Miss Pa, shall call at Canton on his way back, and conclude the arrangement with Miss Lo, who, as the intelligent reader does not require to be informed, has been treating for herself under the name of her sister. She very generously insists upon supplying our hero with funds for his journey; and thus provided, he departs at once without stopping to take leave of the owner of the screens. In the mean time his new mistress, who seems to have a fund of enterprise and vivacity in her character, without waiting for her lover's return, sets off with her mother for Nankin upon a visit to her cousin. The ladies are very cordially received, and immediately domesticated in Pa's family. The merit of the fair Peartree is soon brought to the usual test, and she is found to possess a talent for poetry little if at all inferior to that of her relation. The two cousins gradually contract a great liking for each other, and in order to avoid being separated at any future period, determine that they will, if possible, arrange matters so as to marry the same man. It may be observed, that although the form of the marriage here treated of be different from that in use with us, the parties observe the same perfect decorum which is usual in reference to the same subject in polisbed societies. The hero of the novel, after parting from the second heroine, meets with his uncle, the inspector-general, is adopted by him, and then proceeds to the capital to pursue his studies. He there distinguishes himself as usual, obtains at the general examination the thirteenth place on the list of the doctors, and, at the final one before the emperor, comes out at the head of one of the two classes of these dignitaries. This rank gives him the right of entering the Jasper Hall, and mounting the Golden Horse, or, in plain language, of being admitted into the Imperial Academy of Sciences; a distinction which also regularly carries with it an appointment to one of the great offices at court. But by the intrigues of some powerful friends of the disappointed candidates, he does not receive the promotion properly due to his success, and only obtains an appointment of judge in a remote province. Without, however, making any difficulty on the subject, he sets off pretty soon to take possession of his place, calling on his way first at Honan to offer sacrifice at the burialplace of his ancestors, and afterwards successively at Canton and Nankin to arrange his marriage with his two wives. Unluckily he is disappointed in meeting with both. Dream-of-a-Pear-tree, as the reader is aware, had left Canton, and no one there could give the least account where she had gone. She had herself sent a messenger to Sa, to inform him, whom he had missed by crossing him on the road. Proceeding thence to Nankin, he finds that Pa has gone upon an excursion of pleasure to the Western Lake. During his absence, no access can of course be had to the family. Having no leisure time upon his hands to make farther inquiries at the moment, he reluctantly continues his journey to his place of destination, where he finds himself acting immediately under our old acquaintance, the inspector-general Yang, who now reappears in his former capacity as the villain of the plot. As soon as Yang perceives the extraordinary merit of our hero, he pitches upon him for his son-in-law; and when the latter declines the proposal on the score of his previous engagement to Red-Jasper, Yang circulates a false report of her death. Sa, however, is too much distressed at this event to think of another marriage; and Yang thus failing entirely in his purpose, begins to persecute the young judge in such a way that he resigns his place in disgust, and sets off to refresh himself upon an excursion to the Western Lake. Here he falls in with Pa, and makes acquaintance with him; but as both had assumed feigned names and characters in order to travel with more freedom, they meet as perfect strangers. After talking literature and making poetry together for a few days over their cups, they gradually get upon a confidential footing, and let each other into the secret of their respective family affairs. It soon appears that Mademoiselle Pa is not dead, that Dream-of a-Pear-tree is residing with her at the old gentleman's, that the latter is as anxious for the marriage as any of the parties, and that there is now nothing to prevent it. In the mean time, the intrigue at the capital by which Sa lost his regular promotion is discovered, and he is permitted to mount the Golden Horse without any further delay. Every thing being thus arranged to the general satisfaction, the marriage takes place, and, as usual, closes the novel. Such is the outline of the fable of this very curious work. We have omitted, of course, all the secondary and episodical parts, in particular, the whole machinery of divination, which is used with a good deal of freedom, and exercises considerable influence in the knitting up and unravelling of the plot. From this abstract, however imperfect, of the contents of the novel, the intelligent reader will see at once how much light it must necessarily throw upon the domestic and political economy of the vast empire in which the scene is laid, and may conjecture what stores of information will probably result from future researches into the same mine that has furnished this specimen. We are prevented, by want of room, from entering at much length into a commentary upon the state of civilization in China, as indicated by the work before us. We may observe, in general, that the condition of society in this remote quarter of the globe, seems to resemble that which exists among ourselves, more nearly than has hitherto been supposed; and that the points of difference (which are nevertheless considerable) are not in all respects (though they certainly are in some very important ones) to our advantage. As regards the leading principles of domestic economy and the intercourse between the sexes, the Chinese are doubly unfortunate in the allowance of polygamy on the one hand, and the unnecessary restrictions imposed upon ordinary and harmless conversations on the other. The system that prevails on this subject in all the Christian countries, though strictly conformable to nature, and apparently the one that would suggest itself most readily to every correct mind, has never been adopted in any other part of the world, and is doubtless one of the circumstances that have contributed most powerfully to the progress of civilization in Europe; as it was itself, on the other hand, the effect of the general influence, upon all classes of the community, of our pure and sublime religion. In some other principal features in the aspect of domestic life, the deep veneration of children for their parents, the warmth and tenderness of all the family relations, and the universal polish and softness of manners, we might, perhaps, with advantage, take some lessons from the natives of the Celestial Empire. Their political institutions, which have been hitherto but little examined, are, as we hinted above, well worth the attention and study of philosophers; and might, perhaps, furnish useful suggestions for the improvement of governments founded in the main on other principles. The constitution of the Chinese empire, instead of being, as is commonly supposed, an absolute and unmitigated despotism, in which the only element of power is the cudgel, is evidently one of the most popular forms of government that has ever existed; and, although the mode of bringing the will of the people into action be different from the one in use with us, we are not compelled to conclude without examination, that it is therefore necessarily bad. The difference of form renders each system, on the contrary, a more interesting and useful object of study, to those who are familiar with the other. As intellectual accomplishments are apparently much more important and valuable to their possessor, and as civilization is also of much older date, in China than in Europe, it appears singular that the Chinese should not have carried the sciences to a higher degree of perfection, and should be in this respect decidedly inferior, as there is reason to suppose they are, especially in the mathematical and physical departments, to the western world. With our present scanty information respecting their institutions, situation, and manners, it would be idle to attempt to assign any precise reason for this inferiority. We may venture, perhaps, to conjecture, that the vast political importance attached to learning, may have turned the current of zeal and industry almost wholly into the channel of moral and political studies, which are those immediately required as preparatory for the public service, and have led to the comparative neglect of all other branches of learning. Civil polity, we know, is habitually spoken of by the Chinese as the great science, or, in their own phrase, the highway; and as it seems, at any rate, to be the one which leads to the possession of wealth, rank, and beauty, it is not very surprising that the majority should regularly follow it. But on this, as on all other points connected with the subject, we must wait for the fruits of further researches before we can speculate with much satisfaction, or draw conclusions with any great degree of probability. ON A MODERN ORPHEUS. ORPHEUS of old, through musical acumen, ON RIDING ON THE BACK OF A of his readers have looked upon as a fiction; CROCODILE.* MANY people on possessing the original and highly interesting Wanderings in South America, by Charles Waterton, Esq., altogether disbelieve his account of catching the crocodile, or, as it is there called, the Cayman, and laugh at the extreme improbability of his having" jumped on his back," in order to conquer him. (fig.) This the greater part and others have considered it as a downright falsehood. The following observations, therefore, will tend to counteract this idea, and to show that it has actually been the custom, among some nations, both in ancient and modern times, to mount on the backs of crocodiles, that these animals may be taken with more facility and safety. The great Roman naturalist gives this curious description of catching crocodiles :"Gens hominum est crocodilo adversa in ipso Nilo Tentyrite, ab insulâ in quâ habitat appellata. Mensura eorum parva, sed præsentia animi in hoc tantum usú mira. Terribilis hæc contra fugaces bellua est, fugar contra insequentes, sed adversum ire soli hi audent. Quinetiam Alumini innatant, dorsoque equitantium modo impositi, hiantibus resupino capite ad morsum, addita in os clava, dextra ac læva tenentes extrema ejus utrinque, ut frænis in terram agunt captivos, ac voce etiam solâ territos, cogunt evomere recentia corpora ad sepulturam."+-Plinii Hist. Nat., lib. viii. cap. 25. In a rare and very singular book of field From the Magazine of Natural History.No. VI. +"There is a race of men hostile to the croco dile, called Tentyritæ, from an island in the Nile itself, which they inhabit. Their stature is small, but their courage in this practice is wonderful. This beast is terrible to them that flee from him, but runs away from his pursuers, and these men alone dare attack him. Moreover, they swim after him in the river, and mounting on his back, like horsemen, as he opens his jaws to bite, with his head turned up, they thrust a club into his mouth, and holding the ends of it, one in the right hand, and the other in the left, they bring him to shore captive as if with bridles, and so frightened with their shouts only, that they compel him to disgorge the bodies he had but just swallowed, in order to be buried." sum "Tentyra in Egypto, Nilum juxtà, insulem gentem Intrepidam gignit; crocodili hæc seandere dorAudet: refrenat baculo os: discedere cogit Ex amne in terram: mortem acceleratque nocenti."} Dr. Pococke, in his observations on Egypt, mentions a method of taking the crocodile still more like that which our author practised in South America. He says, "they It is entitled, "Venationes ferarum, avium, piscium, Pugna Bestiariorum, et mutua Bestiarum, depicta à Joanne Straduno, edita per Nicolaum Visscher, cum privilegio ordinum Hollandia et West-Frisia." "Tentyra, an island of the Nile, in Egypt, is inhabited by an intrepid people, who climb the crocodile's back, and, bridling his mouth with a staff, force him out of the river, and slay him." |