I cast my eye over the whole of our hemisphere; I perceive in no place the germ, nor do I foresee the instinctive energy of a happy revolution.

All Asia lies buried in profound darkness.

The Chinese, governed by an insolent despotism,* by strokes of the bamboo and the cast of lots, restrained by an immutable code of gestures, and by the radical vices of an ill-constructed language,** appear to be in their abortive civilization nothing but a race of automatons.

The Indian, borne down by prejudices, and enchained in the sacred fetters of his castes, vegetates in an incurable apathy.

The Tartar, wandering or fixed, always ignorant and ferocious, lives in the savageness of his ancestors.