They are cold, reserved, speaking with affected conciseness: their language is sententious, seasoned with an uncommon dose of pretension. Sentences falling from their lips are half finished, and involved in a mysterious obscurity, calculated to fill with awe and admiration their numerous hearers; a certain haughtiness and contempt of others always shows itself through their affected simplicity and humble deportment. Vanity and selfishness, latent in their hearts, force themselves on the attention of an acute observer. In their manners they are occasionally so affected by a ridiculous reserve that one might be tempted to think that their brain is not quite sound. Talapoins, in general, entertain a very high idea of their own excellence; and the great respect paid to them by the people contributes not a little to foster it, and make them believe that nobody on earth can ever be compared to them. To such a height has their pride reached that they believe it would be derogatory to their dignity to return civility for civility, or thanks for the alms people bestow on them. The most striking feature in the character of the Talapoins is their incomparable idleness. We may say that, in this respect, they resemble their countrymen, who are very prone to that vice. Two causes of a very different nature seem, in our opinion, to act together on the people of these countries to produce such a result. The first is a physical one; the heat of the climate, coupled with a perpetual uniformity in the temperature, producing a general relaxation in the whole system, which is never combated or counteracted by an opposite action or influence. The second cause is a moral one, the tyranny of the despotic governments ruling over the populations of Eastern Asia. Property is everywhere insecure. He who is suspected of being rich is exposed to numberless vexations on the part of the vile satellites of tyranny, who soon find out some apparent pretext for confiscating a part or the whole of his property, or depriving him of life, should he dare to offer resistance. In such a state of things every one is satisfied with the things of first necessity. Want forms the strongest tie that binds together individuals and races, and at the same time holds out the most powerful incentive to exertion. The people of these parts have but few wants, and therefore they lack inducement to labour for acquiring anything beyond what is strictly necessary. Emulation, ambition, the desire of growing rich, which are the main springs that move man to exertion, disappear and leave him in an abject and servile indolence, which soon becomes his habitual state, and the grave wherein is entombed all his moral energy.