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painting, and of symmetry in their architecture, in both of which they
have so long been experienced, afford a heavy accusation against their
genius. But, in planning gardens, and in the art of beautifying the face
of their country, they are unequalled. Yet, even in their boasted
gardening their genius stands accused. The art of ingrafting, so long
known to Europe, is still unknown to them. And hence their fruits are
vastly inferior in flavour to those of the western world. The amazing
wall of defence against the Tartars, though 1500 miles in extent, is a
labour inferior to the canals, lined on the sides with hewn stone, which
everywhere enrich, and adorn their country; some of which reach 1000
miles, and are of depth to carry vessels of burthen. These grand remains
of antiquity prove that there was a time when the Chinese were a much
more accomplished people than at present. Though their princes for many
centuries have discovered no such efforts of genius as these, the
industry of the people still remains, in which they rival, and resemble,
the Dutch. In every other respect they are the most unamiable of
mankind. Amazingly uninventive, for, though possessed of them, the arts
have made no progress among the Chinese these many centuries: even what
they were taught by the Jesuits is almost lost. So false in their
dealings, they boast that none but a Chinese can cheat a Chinese. The
crime which disgraces human nature, is in this nation of atheists, and
most stupid of all idolaters, common as _that charter'd libertine, the
air_. Destitute, even in idea, of that elevation of soul which is
expressed by the best sense of the word piety, in the time of calamity
whole provinces are desolated by self-murder; an end, as Hume says, of
some of the admired names of antiquity, not unworthy of so detestable a
character. And, as it is always found congenial to baseness of heart,
the most dastardly cowardice completes the description of that of the
Chinese.

Unimproved as their arts is their learning. Though their language
consists of few words, it is almost impossible for a stranger to attain
the art of speaking it. And what a European learns ere he is seven years
old, to read, is the labour of the life of a Chinese. In place of our 24
letters, they have more than 60,000 marks, which compose their writings:
and their paucity of words, all of which may be attained in a few hours,
requires such an infinite variety of tone and action, t