the fickleness of the Greeks, and the poverty of genius of the Gauls.

That climate has an important influence, and is the principal cause of the difference in national characters, has been, also, maintained with considerable ingenuity by Montesquieu. That celebrated writer imagines climate to exercise its principal power over the manners; while Cicero a, Winkleman, Machiavelli, and the Abbé du Bos, with equal plausibility, argue for its influence over the mind. But as great events belong exclusively to no age, great genius belongs exclusively to no nation. Neither is there a virtue exercised, a talent cultivated, or a science improved, that may not be exercised, cultivated, and improved, in the torrid and frigid zones, as well as in the temperate. Absurd, then, is the dogma, which would inculcate, that man may be born in "too high or too low a latitude, for wisdom or for wit." Both these hypotheses may, therefore, justly be doubted; for Greece has produced its Lycurgus: China its Confucius; and Rome its Pliny: France its Fenelon; Spain its Cervantes; Portugal its Camöens; and Poland its Casimir. England has produced its Newton; Switzerland its Gessner; Germany its Klopstock; Sweden its Linnæus; and, to crown the argument, Iceland its two hundred and forty poets! This is sufficient for the hypothesis of Du Bos.

That climate affects the manners is equally ideal: for the crimes of the west have been equal to those of the east; and the vices of the south equal to the vices of the north. They differ not in their number, but in their quality for what is vice in one part of the world is not considered vice in another. Thus the Jews esteem it a sin to eat swine; and the natives of Rud-bâr regard it an abomination to eat doves. The use of wine is as strictly forbidden in Turkey, as the possession of more wives than one is in Europe. War in Japan b Discorsi, iii.

a De Fato, c. 4.

c Reflections on the Imitation of the Paintings and Sculptures of the Greeks.

is looked upon with horror; in Europe it is associated with glory.

When Du Bos says, that the most sublime geniuses are not born great, but only capable of becoming such; and when he says, that want debases the mind; and that genius, reduced through misery to write, loses one-half of its vigour; it is impossible not to acknowledge the propriety of his observations. But when he proceeds to assert, that genius is principally the result, as it were, of climate, we must proceed to facts.

For emi

Nor can we implicitly give faith to the assertion of Tacitus, that the times, which have produced eminent men, have also produced men, capable of estimating their merits. nent men have been produced in many ages, that possessed no power of forming adequate estimates of their value: and their rewards have, therefore, arisen out of the applause and admiration of posterity. In fact,—there is scarcely an evil, that does not arise out of the reluctance, or the inability, of men to estimate real benefits.

Sir John Chardin seems to have given the tone to the opinions of Du Bos. "The temperature of hot climates," says he, 66 enervates the mind as well as the body; and dissipates that fire of imagination, so necessary for invention. People are incapable, in those climates, of such long watchings and strong applications, as are requisite for the productions of the liberal and mechanic arts." But though this hypothesis, in my opinion, is destitute of data and solidity, as a whole, there is, assuredly, great truth, great ingenuity, and great beauty, in many of the arguments, adduced to support it.

But let us speak of results. Has not poetry been cultivated on the burning shores of Hindostan; in Java; in China; in Persia; in Arabia; in Palestine; in Greece; in Italy; in Germany; in France; in Great Britain; and in

Iceland? Thus we see, that poetry has been successfully cultivated in every species of soil; and in every degree of latitude. That the poetry of one country is not suited to the readers of another is only a confirmation of the opinion, that the beauty of poetry, as well as that of the person, is relative: all nations relishing their own poetry most.

In respect to architecture. There we shall find, that experience militates in toto against the hypothesis. The wall of China; the pagodas of India; the mosques of the Mahometans; the ruins of Palmyra and Balbec; Memphis; Thebes, and the Pyramids; St. Sophia of Constantinople; Athens; Rome; France and England: what do all these objects, cities, and countries prove, but that architecture has been practised in every climate? The only difference consists in the diversity of tastes: some countries delighting in the greatness of bulk, and others in the greatness of

manner.

I am even disposed to doubt the extensiveness of the argument in respect to health. In Columbo (Ceylon) are assembled every tint of the human skin: African negroes; Caffres; Javans; Chinese; Hindoos; Persians; Armenians; Malays; Cingalese; Malabars; Arabs; Moors; Portuguese; Dutch; English; and every species of half castes! They all enjoy health. That is, almost of itself, sufficient to prove, that health does not depend upon the parallels of latitude. The human frame is, in fact, adapted to Equatorial heat and Arctic cold. The chief precaution in founding settlements, therefore, is reduced to that of avoiding situations, in which heat is accompanied by moisture.

In regard to virtue. If one order of men is found in a country, capable of exercising every species of benevolence;

a Perceval.

b Sir Everard Home suggests, that if Europeans, in hot climates, were to wear white garments, lined inside with black covering, it would, probably, prevent the scorching of the skin.

why may not the whole people? Every species of crime is committed in India; yet the Parsee merchants of Bombay exceed all the merchants in the world, for active benevolence and philanthropy. This character was first given them by Ovington; and it has been attested by almost every traveller since. In a country, exhibiting such a frightful dissolution of morals, it refreshes the soul to read of their virtues !

Under the line the heat is not so oppressive, as within three or four degrees of the tropics: the days being shorter. At the Equator, days and nights are of equal length; twelve hours each near the tropics the longest day consists of thirteen hours and an half. The Hindoos divide their year into six seasons: the dewy, the cold, the rainy, and the hot; the period of spring, and the clearing up of the rain. But though the Hindoos number so many seasons, there is, by no means, a great variety of climates in Hindostan. Before the coming of the rain, the earth appears pulverised and parched like a desert; the rain commences, and the hills and valleys are covered with verdure. The rain ceases, and, for nine successive months, scarcely a cloud deforms the serenity of the sky.

The neighbourhood of WASSOTA abounds in mountains, rising in succession one above another, in many a spacious amphitheatre; yielding the pepper vine, the Malacca cane, the bastard nutmeg, and a profusion of flowering shrubs and aromatic plants; presenting abundant materials for the naturalist, geologist, and botanist. Many scenes in this country resemble part of the province of Kirin-ula,—in Eastern Tartary-so remarkable for its silence. To the north of Mugden it is a continued succession of vast forests, stupendous mountains, deep valleys, and desert wildernesses; with scarcely a house, a cottage, or a hut. These scenes are

peopled with wolves, tigers, bears, and serpents. Nothing is heard but the roaring of woods, the rushing of rivers, the fall

of cataracts, the hissing of serpents, and the howling of beasts of prey; in the midst of all which scenes of horror, grow roses and violets and yellow lilies.

How does this country differ from Nova Zembla and Greenland, whose rocks are almost insensible to spring; and from Iceland, where the skies, at one season of the year, exhibit not a single star; and where, at another—

The western clouds retain their yellow glow,

While Hecla pours her flames through boundless wastes of snow a ?

How does it differ, too, from a large portion of Crim Tartary, where scarcely a brook is heard to murmur, or a bush, a shrub, or a bramble, are ever seen to grow! Crim Tartary is subject to few phenomena; but Greenland is frequently visited by one, which is seldom witnessed in any other quarter of the world. For sometimes the images of travellers are reflected on a frozen cloud, as in a mirror; at other times, the ships in the harbours, with their sails unfurled, and their streamers flying, with huts, animals, trees, and other objects, are reflected, magnified or diminished, according to their distances, and the density of the atmosphere.

Than Greenland, in no quarter of the globe could the sciences of gravitation, magnetism, and electricity, be cultivated with such probability of producing advantageous results. Than SPITZBERGEN, no country is more sublime and terrific. Its peaks are inaccessible; capped, as they are, with snow, coeval with the globe. Its valleys are choked with glaciers, which, in spring, pour vast cataracts of melted snow from their bosoms: while, in summer, the mid-day and the midnight are illuminated with almost equal splendour. In this island there are no settled inhabitants; but the Russians occasionally resort to it for the purpose of hunting bears. No lightning was ever seen there; nor was a single burst of thunder ever heard. Craggy mountains rise, in fantastic

a The Scalder.-Stirling.