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 now going unprosperously with our noble jeweller, his family retired to Berlin, while he repaired, in an obscure manner, to Paris, in quest of funds for another journey into the East.

Tavernier was now in his eighty-third year, broken in spirits, ruined in fortune, and bending beneath the effects of age; but his courage had not forsaken him. He succeeded by dint of great exertions in getting together a considerable venture, and departed for Hindostan by way of Russia and Tartary. That he arrived safely at Moscow is tolerably certain; but in this city we lose sight of him; some writers affirming that he died there, while others more confidently assert, that having spent some time at this ancient capital of Russia, he continued his journey, and embarked with his merchandise in a bark upon the Volga, with the design of descending that river to the Caspian Sea. Whether this wretched bark foundered in the stream, or, which is more probable, was plundered, and its crew and passengers massacred by the Tartars, is what has never been ascertained. At all events, Tavernier here disappears, for no tidings of him ever reached France from that time. He is supposed to have died in 1685, or 1686.

His works have gone through several editions, and may be consulted with advantage by the students of Asiatic manners, though the style, which is that of some miserable compiler whom he employed to digest his rough memoirs, be intolerably bald and enervate; while the method and arrangement are, perhaps, the worst that could have been adopted. Had he contented himself with the simple form of a journal, narrating events as they occurred, and describing things as they presented themselves to his notice, he could not have been more prolix, and would undoubtedly have rendered his work more agreeable and useful. As a traveller, he is undoubtedly entitled to the praise of enterprise and perseverance; no