I shall not be at any future loss for matter to entertain you with, my dear Aza; they have suffered me to talk with a Cusipata, whom they hear call a Religious; he understands every thing, and has promised to instruct me in all his knowlege. He is as polite as a great Lord, and as learned as an Amatas; he is as well versed in the customs and manners of the world, as in the tenets of his religion. His conversation has been more instructive than a book, and has given me that pleasure which I never before felt since my misfortunes separated me from you.

He came to instruct me in the religion of France, and exhort me to embrace it; which I should certainly have done, if I had been well assured he gave me a true picture of it.

By what he says of the virtues he teaches, they are quite agreeable to the law of Nature, and of equal purity with our own; but either I want discernment, or the customs and manners of this nation seem not to agree with their religion. On the contrary, I find such a want of connection between them, that my reason cannot submit to the belief of what my tutor tells me.

The origin and principles of this religion did not appear to me more wonderful or incredible than the history of Mancocapac, and the lake Tisicaca: I should therefore readily have embraced it, if the Cusipata had not treated the worship of the Sun with great contempt; and wherever we perceive an instructor partial, we lose our confidence.

I might have used the same arguments against him which he did against me; but as we are forbidden by the laws of humanity to give a blow to a fellow-creature, because it is doing him an injury, is there not more reason that we should not hurt his mind by despising his opinions. I satisfied myself, therefore, with explaining to him my own thoughts, but did not attempt to contradict his.