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the Flemish farmer, recruited by intervals of decent and
comfortable refreshment, and not less agreeable to perceive
the farm servants treated with kindness and respect. They
uniformly dine with the farmer and his family at a clean
table cloth, well supplied with spoons, with four pronged
forks, and every thing necessary for their convenience.
In Flanders, the gentlemen are all farmers, but the farmers
do not aspire to be gentlemen, and their servants feel the
benefit. They partake with them of a plentiful orderly
meal, which varies according to circumstances.
The clothing of the peasantry is warm and comfortable—
good shoes and stockings, and frequently gaiters of leather
or strong linen, which are sold very cheap,
Their comfortable supply of linen is remarkable; "there
are few of the labouring classes without many changes.
With respect to the farm house, the exte-
rior is, for the most part, ornamented with creepers or fruit
trees, trained against the walls; and within, the neatness
which prevails is quite fascinating. Every article of fur-
niture is polished. The service of pewter displays a pecu-
liar brightness, and the tiled floor is purified by frequent
ablutions. The cottage of the labourer, though not so well
furnished, is, however, as clean; a frequent and periodical
use of water and the broom pervades every house, great and
small, in the country and in town."

.

in the territory now called Houssa; and that their Nile was not the Niger of Park, but a compound of the streams flowing along that plain, particularly the Quartama, or Zirmie. It may be supposed that this last stream, joined to the part of the Niger navigated by Lander, formed their Nile, and that they thus erred only by supposing a tributary to be the main branch. But the great imperfection of their knowledge, is clearly proved by the ignorance of all the details now observed by our traveller; and more particularly by the statement, that from Tocrur (Sockatoo) to Ulil, where the great river fell into the sea, was only eighteen days' journey, which cannot be rated so high as 300 miles; while the real distance to the Gulf of Benin does not fall short of 700. There may, however, be room to believe, that they might receive a general intimation of the termination of the Niger in the Atlantic, and might suppose the remotest city in that direction, of which they obtained distinct intelligence, to be at the point of its entrance; as Sultan Bello supposed Rakah and Fundah to be seaports at the mouth of the river. The name of Youri bears some resemblance to that of Ulil; r and 1 being readily convertible. But the pits in which the salt of Ulil is said by Edrisi to have been found, and the desert along which it was conveyed, suggest the western salt mines, and seem to prove that Ulil was Walet, and that the Lake Dibbi, in that imperfect state of knowledge, was confounded with the "A large farm requires a large capital. If a man takes a Atlantic. The only writer who discovers a distinct know- farm which he has not capital to stock sufficiently, whether ledge of any part of the Niger navigated by the present the farm be large or small, he will labour under difficultravellers, is Leo Africanus. He describes it as flowing be- ties. What is wanted is, not that men without capital tween Guber (which is still well known as a country of shall take farms, (for the mischievous consequence of this is Houssa, and appears then to have been its ruling state) and felt in Ireland, where a man without a farthing will take Gago, whose fruitful territory, rude habitations, the innu- a farm,) but that there should be farms of sizes suited to merable host of the royal wives, and its situation 400 miles the capitals by which they can be advantageously cultiva-. south from Timbuctoo, clearly establish to be Eyeo. But ted. We believe that after the first great improvements of he fails altogether to trace it farther, or follow its progress embanking and draining, &c. have been made in a country, downwards to the Gulf of Benin. On the contrary, he re- if things were left to their natural course, farms would conpresents it as flowing in a western direction from Timbuctoo stantly diminish rather than increase in size. The small to Ghinea, (Jenur,) and thence to the ocean. This impres- farmer can observe all the most improved practices, and he sion he evidently derived from the Portuguese, who early can better attend to minute details, an immense matter in began to consider the Senegal and Gambia as the estuaries farming. The difference, too, between the exertions of a of the Niger. This last opinion continued to be prevalent | hireling and a man who labours for himself, is not to be among modern Europeans; hence the only attempts made disregarded. Accordingly, it has been found that, during to reach the Niger, were by the English from the Gambia, times of difficulty, the small farmer has struggled through, and the French from the Senegal. They proved abortive; while the large farmer has sunk, from inability to keep and Delisle and D'Anville obtained positive information, down his expenditure. The small farmer and his family that these rivers had no connexion with the Niger, which will toil early and late, if necessary, and cheerfully submit rose in the interior, and flowed eastward to Timbuctoo. to privations, in the hope of better times; but the hireling Yet they never could fully overcome the general preposses- has no interest in the prosperity of his master, and no mosion to the contrary, and had, themselves, no correct idea as tive for encountering privations for the sake of one who, if to its termination. Reichard, a German writer, had the prosperous, would never bestow a thought on him. The merit of starting, and Mr. M'Queen of warmly supporting tendency to multiply farms is retarded by the necessity for the hypothesis, which has now been so happily verified, and an outlay on buildings, and still more by the manner in affords, the maiu, key to the geography of interior Africa. which the poor laws have been abused in a great part of Notwithstanding the great importance of this discovery, it England. The man who cultivates a small possession by has by no means completed even the outline of our know- his own labour and that of his family, is made to pay the ledge respecting the optatal regions of this continent. The wages of the labourers of the great farmer. In many paTebadda, with all the countries on its banks, which there rishes the rates are as high as thirty shillings a pound, is every reason to believe are fertile and populous, remains merely through the labourers receiving their wages in the entirely unexplored. ✅ fl'here is a large blank in the course shape of rates. Wherever this system prevails there can be of the Niger between Timbuctoo and Youri. We say nono small farmers. If they were to pay no rent, they would thing of the regions south of the equator, which, unless be ruined by the rates. As great farmers hate to have from the recent observations of M. Donville, are almost small farms in their neighbourhood, and hate to see labourentirely untouched by discovery.-Edinburgh Review. ers possessed of small allotments of land, or any means by which they can escape from absolute dependence, the poor rates were often raised with a view to work the destruction of the small farmers, and the more complete dependence of the labourers.

LARGE AND SMALL FARMS.

In the Netherlands, and in Switzerland, and in the North of Italy and Tuscany, the most perfect agriculture prevails with small farms. In Flanders, the farmer, like the old English farmer, sits at the table with his servants, and looks carefully into every detail. He is at the same time, according to all accounts, a much better farmer than the English farmer. Radcliff, who was sent by the Farming Society of Ireland to the Netherlands, and published a report on the agriculture of East and West Flanders, in 1819, thus describes the manners of the Flemish farmer and labourer.

"It is a pleasure to observe the laborious industry of

ABHORRENCE OF WAR.-1 wish you joy of the marvellous conclusion of the strange and terrible drama which our eyes have seen opened, and, I trust, finally closed, upon the grand stage of Europe, (date, July 1814.) I used to be fond of war when I was a younger man, and longed heartily to be a soldier; but now, I think there is no prayer in the service with which I could close more e nestly, than Send peace in our time, good Lord!”Walter Scott's Letters.

ELEMENTS OF THOUGHT.

PATRIOTISM-PHILANTHROPY.
BY DR. CHALMERS.

could such a man mix up the softenings of private virtue, with the habit of so sublime a comprehension-if, amid those magnificent darings of thought and of performance, the mildness of his benignant eye could still continue to cheer the retreat of his family, and to spread the charm and the sacredness of piety among all its members-could he even mingle himself in all the gentleness of a soothed and a smiling heart, with the playfulness of his childrenand also find strength to shed the blessings of his presence and his counsel over the vicinity around him,-oh! would not the combination of so much grace with so much loftithe one ingredient of a character so rare, go to illustrate and to magnify the other? And would not you pronounce him to be the fairest specimen of our nature, who could so call out all your tenderness, while he challenged and com. pelled all your veneration ?

I NOW make my appeal to the sensibilities of your heart; and tell me, to whom does the moral feeling within it yield its readiest testimony-to the infidel, who would make this world of ours vanish away into abandonment-or to those angels, who ring throughout all their mansions the hosannas of joy, over every one individual of its repentant population ? And here I cannot omit to take advantage of that open-ness, only serve the more to aggrandize him? Would not ing with which our Saviour has furnished us, by the parables of this chapter, and by which he admits us into a familiar view of that principle on which the inhabitants of Heaven are so awake to the deliverance and the restoration of our species. To illustrate the difference in the reach of knowledge and of affection, between a man and an angel, TITHES. DR. CHALMERS." This lingering of an old let us think of the difference of reach between one man prejudice in the mind of Luther, because consecrated by anand another. You may often witness a man, who feels tiquity, is a striking example of the tenacity with which neither tenderness nor care beyond the precincts of his own such prejudices keep their ground. We are hopeless of any family; but who, on the strength of those instinctive fond- demonstration, however irresistible, having its proper ef nessess which nature has implanted in his bosom, may earn fect, either on the body politic or the body ecclesiastical. the character of an amiable father, or a kind husband, or I am not nearly so sanguine as I was wont to be, that a bright example of all that is soft and endearing in the either of those bodies will save itself from ruin by a timely relations of domestic society. Now, conceive him, in addi- correction of those abuses, which, if not remedied, will ef tion to all this, to carry his affection abroad, without, at fect its destruction. I am far more afraid that the pauperthe same time, any abatement of their intensity towards ism of England will shake society to pieces, than that Gothe objects which are at home-that, stepping across the vernment will gradually do away with this sore blot on our limits of the house he occupies, he takes an interest in the social system. În like manner, though the subject of Tithes families which are near him-that he lends his services to is now, in good carnest, under the notice of Parliament, I the town or the district wherein he is placed, and gives up fear it may too late to save the Church of Ireland. And a portion of his time to the thoughtful labours of a hu- it is to be observed, in conformity with the principle before mane and public-spirited citizen. By this enlargement in the alluded to, that made Government take it up in the derid It was not at the call sphere of his attention, he has extended his reach; and pro-ed manner it appears to be doing. vided he has not done so at the expense of that regard of English reasoners, but at the compulsion of Irish pikewhich is due to his family, a thing which, cramped and men.-How much does the force of expediency, and how confined as we are, we are very apt, in the exercise of our little does the force of reason, influence the minds of men!" humble faculties, to do-I put it to you, whether, by extending the reach of his views and his affections, he has not extended his worth, and his moral respectability along with

it?

[These are the sentiments of Dr Chalmers; and in the spirit of these sentiments, we conceive a frank, open avowal. that the Church of Scotland, in her system of Patronage, her Eldership, and her Discipline, both over pastors and prople, is not what she ought to be what she once was--and may again, by the blessing of God, become,—is alike due to truth and good policy.]

And h

But I can conceive a still further enlargement. I can figure to myself a man, whose wakeful sympathy overflows the field of his own immediate neighbourhood-to whom the name of country comes with all the omnipotence of a charm upon his heart, and with all the urgency of a most ighteous and resistless claim upon his services-who never SINBAD THE SAILOR. At a late meeting of the French hears the name of Britain sounded in his ears, but it stirs Academy of Inscriptions, Baron Walkenaer read a very cu up all his enthusiasm in behalf of the worth and the wel-rious paper on the voyages of Sinbad the Sailor, as detailed fare of its people-who gives himself up, with all the devotedness of a passion, to the best and the purest objects of patriotism and who, spurning away from him the vulgarities of party ambition, separates his life and his labours to the fine pursuit of augmenting the science, or the virtue, or the substantial prosperity of his nation. Oh! could such a man retain all the tenderness, and fulfil all the duties which home and which neighbourhood require of him, and, at the same time, expatiate in the might of his untried faculties, on so wide a field of benevolent contemplation would not this extension of reach place him still higher than before, on the scale both of moral and intellectual gradation, and give him a still brighter and more enduring

in the Arabian Nights. His object was, to ascertain what light these entertaining fictions threw on the geographical knowledge of the Arabians in the time of the Caliph H roun-al-Raschid ; that is to say, the eighth or ninth century of our era. He remarks, that Sinbad rarely mentions the name of more than one or two places in each voyage, an these are usually the principal objects of his expedition: his details of the natural history and productions of esch** them are generally exact; whereas he never names the con tries in which the scenes of his extravagant and fictitio adventures are laid, and is silent respecting their produc tions: whence it is fair to conclude, that this fanciful en broidery has been added as an ornamental appendage to the accounts of real voyages undertaken to and from the city of And, lastly, I can conceive a still loftier flight of humani- Bagdad. Thus, the first voyage was to Bijanagur, a city ty-a man, the aspiring of whose heart for the good of man, in the Southern part of Hindostan; the second to the Pe knows no limitations whose longings, and whose concep insula of Malacca ; the third to the Andaman Islands, and tions on this subject, overleap all the barriers of geography to Sumatra; the fourth to the Pepper Coast of Malabar, -who, looking on himself as a brother of the species, links the Nicobar Isles, and part of the peninsula of Malacci; the every spare energy which belongs to him, with the cause fifth along the Malabar coast, to the Maldive Islands; and of its melioration-who can embrace, within the grasp of the sixth and seventh to Cape Comorin, the southern point his ample desires, the whole family of mankind-and who, of Hindoostan, and thence, by the Gulf of Manaar, to the in obedience to a heaven-born movement of principle within interior of Ceylon. These appear to have been the princi him, separates himself to some big and busy enterprise, pal points of the commercial expeditions of the Arals at the

name in the records of human excellence?

which is to tell on the moral destinies of the world.

Luke xv. 7.

Oh! period alluded to, embracing a space included between 41 and 105 degrees of east longitude, and 33 degrees north, and 5 degrees of south latitude,

THE STORY TELLER.

FIRST GOING TO CHURCH.
A Tale for the Young.

SUSAN YATES.

I was born and brought up, in a house in which my parents had all their lives resided, which stood in the midst of that lonely tract of land called the Lincolnshire Fens. Few families besides our own lived near the spot, both because it was reckoned unwholesome air, and because its distance from any town or market made it an inconvenient situation. My father was in no very affluent circumstances, and it was a sad necessity which he was put to, of having to go many miles to fetch any thing from the nearest village, which was full seven miles distant, through a sad miry way that at all times made it heavy walking, and after rain almost impassable. But he had no horse or carriage of his own.

that the fine music which we sometimes heard in the ari, came from the bells of St Mary's Church, and that we never heard it but when the wind was in a particular point. This raised my wonder more than all the rest; for I had somehow conceived that the noise which I heard, was OCcasioned by birds up in the air, or that it was made by the angels, whom (so ignorant I was till that time) I had always considered to be a sort of birds; for before this time I was totally ignorant of any thing like religion, it being a principle of my father, that young heads should not be told too many things at once, for fear they should get confused ideas and no clear notions of any thing. We had always indeed so far observed Sundays, that no work was done upon that day; and upon that day I wore my best muslin frock, and was not allowed to sing, or to be noisy; but I never understood why that day should differ from any other. We had no public meetings:-indeed the few straggling houses which were near us, would have furnished but a slender congregation; and the loneliness of the place we lived in, instead of making us more sociable, and drawing us closer together, as my mother used to say it ought to have done, seemed to have the effect of making us more distant and averse to society than other people. One or two good neighbours, indeed, we had, but not in number to give me an idea of church attendance.

But now my mother thought it high time to give me some clearer instruction in the main points of religion, and my father came readily into her plan. I was now permitted to sit up half an hour later on a Sunday evening, that I might hear a portion of scripture read, which had always been their custom, though by reason of my tender age, and my father's opinion on the impropriety of children being taught too young, I had never till now been an auditor. also taught my prayers.

I was

The clearer my notions on these points became, they only made me more passionately long for the privilege of join

The church which belonged to the parish in which our house was situated, stood in this village; and its distance being, as I said before, seven miles from our house, made it quite an impossible thing for my mother or me to think of going to it. Sometimes, indeed, on a fine dry Sunday, my father would rise early, and take a walk to the village, just to see how goodness thrived, as he used to say; but he would generally return tired, and the worse for his walk. It is scarcely possible to explain to any one who has not lived in the fens, what difficult and dangerous walking it is. A mile is as good as four, I have heard my father say, in those parts. My mother, who in the early part of her life had lived in a more civilized spot, and had been used to constant church-going, would often lament her situation. It was from her I early imbibed a great curiosity and anxiety to see that thing, which I had heard her call a church, and so often lament that she could never go to. I had seen houses of various structures, and had seen in pic-ing in that social service, from which it seemed that we tures the shapes of ships and boats, and palaces and temples, but never rightly any thing that could be called a church, or that could satisfy me about its form. Some times I thought it must be like our house, and sometimes I fancied it must be more like the house of our neighbour, Mr. Sutton, which was bigger and handsomer than ours. Sometimes I thought it was a great hollow cave, such as I have heard my father sav the first inhabitants of the earth dwelt in. Then I thought it was like a waggon, or a cart, and that it must be something movable. The shape of it ran in my mind strangely, and one day I ventured to ask my mother, what was that foolish thing she was always Was it longing to go to, and which she called a church. any thing to eat or drink, or was it only like a great huge I was not quite five plaything, to be seen and stared at? years of age when I made this inquiry. This question, so oddly put, made my mother smile; but in a little time she put on a more grave look, and informed me, that a church was nothing that I had supposed it, but it was a great building, far greater than any house which I had seen, where men, and women, and children, came together twice a-day on Sundays, to hear the Bible read, and make good resolutions for the week to come. She told me,

We cannot tell about the authorship of this very beautiful story. It has been attributed to Ellia, and the fine imagination it displays makes this probable.

alone, of all the inhabitants of the land, were debarred; and when the wind was in that point which enabled the sound of the distant bells of St. Mary's to be heard over the great moor which skirted our house, I have stood out in the air to catch the sounds, which I almost devoured; and the tears have come into my eyes, when sometimes they seemed to speak to me almost in articulate sounds, to come to church, and because of the great moor which was between me and them I could not come; and the too tender apprehensions of these things have filled me with a religious melancholy. With thoughts like these I entered into my seventh year.

And now the time was come, when the great moor was no longer to separate me from the object of my wishes and of my curiosity. My father having some money left him by the will of a deccased relation, we ventured to set up a sort of a carriage-no very superb one; but in that part of the world it was looked upon with some envy by our poorer neighbours. The first party of pleasure which my father proposed to take in it, was to the village where I had so often wished to go, and my mother and I were to accompany him; for it was very fit, my father observed, that little Susan should go to church, and learn how to behave herself, for we might sometime or other have occasion to live in London, and not always be confined to that out-ofthe-way spot.

It was on a Sunday morning that we set out, my little

heart beating with almost breathless expectation. The day
was fine, and the roads as good as they ever are in those
parts. I was so happy and so proud! I was lost in dreams
of what I was going to see. At length the tall steeple of
St. Mary's Church came in view. It was pointed out to me
by my father, as the place from which that music had come
which I had heard over the moor, and had fancied to be
angels singing. I was wound up to the highest pitch of
delight, at having visibly presented to me the spot from
which had proceeded that unknown friendly music; and
when it began to peal, just as we approached the village, it
seemed to speak, Susan is come, as plainly as it used to in-
vite me to come, when I heard it over the moor.
I pass
over our alighting at the house of a relation, and all that
passed till I went with my father and mother to church.

church-going inhabitants. I have since lived in great towns, and seen the ways of churches and of worship, and I am old enough now to distinguish between what is es sential in religion, and what is merely formal or orna

mental.

When my father had done pointing out to me the things most worthy of notice about the church, the service was almost ready to begin; the parishioners had most of them entered, and taken their seats; and we were shewn into a pew where my mother was already seated. Soon after, the clergyman entered, and the organ began to play what is called the voluntary. I had never seen so many people assembled before. At first I thought that all eyes were upon me, and that because I was a stranger. I was terribly ashamed and confused at first; but my mother helped me to find out the places in the Prayer-book, and being busy St. Mary's Church is a great church for such a small village as it stands in. My father said it had been a cathe- about that, took off some of my painful apprehensions. I was no stranger to the order of the service, having often dral, and that it had once belonged to a monastery, but the read in the Prayer-book at home; but my thoughts being monks were all gone. Over the door there was stone work, confused, it puzzled me a little to find out the responses and representing saints and bishops, and here and there, along other things, which I thought I knew so well; but I went the sides of the church, there were figures of men's heads, through it tolerably well. One thing which has often made in a strange grotesque way; I have since seen the troubled me since, is, that I am afraid I was too full of same sort of figures in the round tower of the Temple, myself, and of thinking how happy I was, and what a priChurch in London. My father said they were very impro-vilege it was for one that was so young, to join in the serper ornaments for such a place, and so I now think them; but it seems the people who built these great churches in old times, gave themselves more liberties than they do now; and I remember that when I first saw them, and before my father had made this observation, though they were so ugly and out of shape, and some of them seem to be grinning and distorting their features with pain or with laughter, yet being placed upon a church, to which I had come with such serious thoughts, I could not help thinking they had some serious meaning; and I looked at them with wonder, but without any temptation to laugh. I some how fancied they were the representation of wicked people set up as a warning.

When we got into the church, the service was not begun, and my father kindly took me round, to shew me the monuments, and every thing else remarkable. I remember seeing one of a venerable figure, which my father said had been a judge. The figure was kneeling as if it was alive, before a sort of desk, with a book, I suppose the Bible, lying on it. I somehow fancied the figure had a sort of life in it, it seemed so natural, or that the dead judge that it was done for, said his prayers at it still. This was a silly notion; but I was very young, and had passed my little life in a remote place, where I had never seen any thing nor knew any thing; and the awe which I felt at first being in a church, took from me all power but that of wondering. I did not reason about any thing; I was too young. Now I understand why monuments are put up for the dead, and why the figures which are upon them are described as doing the actions which they did in their lifetimes, and that they are a sort of pictures set up for our instruction. But all was new and surprising to me on that day; the long windows with little panes, the pillars, the pews made of oak, the little hassocks for the people to kneel on, the form of the pulpit, with the sounding-board over it, gracefully carved in flower-work. To you, who have lived all your lives in populons places, and have been taken to church from the earliest time you can remember, my admiration of these things must appear strangely ignorant. But I was a lonely young creature, that had been brought up in remote places, where there was neither church nor

af.

vice with so many grown people, so that I did not attend enough to the instruction which I might have received. I remember, I foolishly applied every thing that was said to myself, so as it could mean nobody but myself, I was so full of my own thoughts. All that assembly of people, seemed to me as if they were come together only to shew me the way of a church. Not but I received some very fecting impressions from some things which 1 heard that day; but the standing up and the sitting down of the peo ple; the organ; the singing the way of all these things took up more of my attention than was proper; "or I thought it did. I believe I behaved better, and was more serious when I went a second time, and a third time; for now we went as a regular thing every Sunday, and continued to do so, till by a still further change for the better in my father's circumstances, we removed to London. Oh! it was a happy day for me my first going to St. Mary's Church: before that day I used to feel like a little outcast in the wilderness, like one that did not belong to the world of Christian people. I have never felt like a little outcast since. But I never can hear the sweet noise of bells, that I don't think of the angels singing, and wifat poor but pretty thoughts I had of angels in my uninstructed solitude.

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THE following extraordinary narrative was received by Mr. Hogg, the Ettrick Shepherd, but by what ship, we do not pretend to say.

In my last I related to you all the circumstances of our settlement here, and the prospect that we had of a peaceful and pleasant habitation. In truth, it is a fine country, and inhabited by a fine race of people; for the Kousies, as far as I have seen of them, are a simple and ingenious race; and Captain Johnstone having secured the friendship and protection of their chief, we lived in the most perfect hai mony with them, trafficking with them for oxen, for which we gave them iron and copper in exchange, the former be ing held in high estimation by them. But, alas! Sir, such a fate has befallen to me since I wrote you last, as I am sure never fell to the lot of a human being.

And I am

now going to relate to you one of those stories which, were it to occur în a romance, would be reckoned quite out of nature, and beyond all the bounds of probability; so true is it that there are many things in heaven and earth that are not dreamed of in our philosophy.

You knew my Agnes from her childhood: you were at our wedding at Beattock, and cannot but remember what an amiable and lovely girl she then was. I thought so, and so did you; at least you said you never had as bonny a bride on your knee. But you will hardly believe that her beauty was then nothing in comparison with what it be cime afterwards; and when she was going about our new settlement with our little boy in her arms, I have often fancied that I never saw so lovely a human being.

Be that as it may, the chief Karoo came to me one day, with his interpreter, whom he caused to make a long palaver about his power, and dominion, and virtues, and his great desire to do much good. The language of this fellow being a mixture of Kaffre, High Dutch, and English, was peculiarly ludicrous, and most of all so, when he concluded with expressing his lord's desire to have my wife to be his own, and to give me in exchange for her four oxen, the

best that I could choose from his herd!

As he made the proposal in presence of my wife, she was so much tickled with the absurdity of the proposed barter, and the manner in which it was expressed, that she laughed immoderately. Karoo, thinking she was delighted with it, eyed her with a look that surpasses all description, caused his interpreter to make another palaver to her concerning all the good things she was to enjoy, one of which was, that she was to ride upon an ox whose horns were tipped with gold. I thanked the great Karoo for his kind intentions, but declared my incapability to part with my wife, for that we were one flesh and blood, and nothing could separate us but death. He could comprehend no such tie as this. All men sold their wives and daughters as they listed, I was told for that the women were the sole property of the men. He had bought many women from the Tambookies that were virgins, and had never given above two cows for any of them; and because he desired to have my wife, he had offered me as much for her as would purchase four of the best wives in all the two countries, and that therefore I was bound to give her up to him. And when I told him, finally, that nothing on earth could induce me to part with her, he seemed offended, bit his thumb, knitted his brows, and studied long in silence, always cast ing glances at Agnes, of great pathos and languishment, which were perfectly irresistible, and ultimately he stuck❘ his spear's head in the ground, and offered me ten cows and a bull for my wife, and a choice virgin to boot, when this proffer was likewise déclinéd, he smiled in derision, telling me I was the son of foolishness, and that he foretold that I should repent it. Three times he went over this, and then went away in high dudgeon. Will you, Sir, believe, or will any person alive believe, that it was possible I could live to repent this!

My William was at this time about eleven months old, but was still at the breast, as I could never prevail on his lovely mother to wean him; and, at the very time of which I am speaking, our little settlement was invaded one night by a tribe of those large baboons called ourang-outangs, pongos, or wild men of the woods, who did great mischief to our fruits, yams, and carrots. From that time we kept a great number of guns loaded, and set a watch; and at length the depredators were again discovered. We sallied out upon them in a body, not without alarm, for they are

powerful and vindictive animals, and our guns were only loaded with common shot. They fled at the first sight of us, and that with such swiftness, that we might as well have tried to catch deer; but we got one close fire at them, and doubtless wounded a number of them, as their course was traced with blood. We pursued them as far as the Keys river, which they swam, and we lost them.

Among all the depredators there was none fell but one youngling, which I lifted in my arms, when it looked so pitifully, and cried so like a child, that my heart bled for it. A large monster, more than six feet high, perceiving that he had lost his cub, returned, brandishing a huge I wanted to restore the abominclub, and grinning at me. able brat, for I could not bear the thought of killing it, it was so like a human creature; but before I could do this, several shots had been fired by my companions at the hideous monster, which caused him once more to take to his heels; but, turning oft, as he fled, he made threatening gestures at me. A Kousi servant that we had, finished the cub, and I caused it to buried.

The very morning but one after, Agnes and her black maid were milking our few cows upon the green; I was in the garden, and William was toddling about pulling flowers, when, all at once, the women were alarmed by the sight of a tremendous ourang-outang issuing from our house, which they had just left. They seem to have been struck dumb and senseless with amazement, for not one of them uttered a sound, until the monster, springing forward, in one moment, snatched up the child and made off with him. Instead of coming to me, the women pursued the animal with the child, not knowing, I believe, what they were doing. The fearful shrieks which they uttered alarmed me, and I ran to the milking green, thinking the cows had fallen on the women, as the cattle of that district are ticklish for pushing when any way hurt or irritated. Before I reached the green where the cows stood, the ourang-outang was fully half a mile gone, and only the poor feeble, exhausted wo men, running after him. For a good while I could not conceive what was the matter, but having my spade in my hand, I followed spontaneously in the same direction. Before I overtook the women, I heard the agonizing cries of my dear boy, my darling William, in the paws of that hor There is no sensation of which the human rible monster. heart is capable, that can at all be compared with the horror which at that dreadful moment seized on mine. My sinews lost their tension, and my whole frame became lax and powerless. I believe I ran faster than usual, but then I fell every minute, and as I passed Agnes, she fell into a fit. Kela-kal, the black girl, with an astonishing presence of mind, had gone off at a tangent, without orders, or without being once missed, to warn the rest of the settlers, which she did with all expedition. I pursued on, breathless, and altogether unnerved with agony; but, alas! I rather lost than gained ground.

I think if I had been fairly started, that through desperation I could have overtaken the monster; but the hopelessness of success rendered me feeble. The truth is, that he did not make great speed, not nearly the speed these animals are wont to make, for he was greatly encumbered with the child. You, perhaps, do not understand the nature of these animals-neither do I: but they have this peculiarity, that when they are walking leisurely, or running down hill, they walk upright, like a human being; but when hardpressed on level ground, or up hill, they use their long arms as fore-legs, and then run with inconceivable swiftness. When flying with their own young, the greater part of them will run nearly twice as fast as an ordinary man, for the cubs cling to them with both feet and hands; but as

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