worn by those of more mature years; before marriage, both sexes are in a state of nudity. same manner. with five or six of them; they are about the size of one's finger, and seven or eight feet long; they carry also a stout stick for close quarters, and, without these weapons, never move from home. The French mulatto told me the spear was only used to kill goats, but that I doubt, as many shewed me a case of thick dried bide, made to fit the body, which they put on, and then placed the point of the spear against it, evidently pointing out its use. Their astonishment and alarm at hearing a musket fired, proved their total ignorance of the use of firearms. They have a peculiar habit of rubbing themselves all over with a sort of red clay and palm oil, and of powdering their faces with a species of pulverized yellow ochre, which gives them a very singular appearance. One woman I saw with her hands and face washed in blood, and stripes of it on various parts of her body: on inquiry, I found it was the blood of a goat she had killed. Their woolly hair behind is platted or twisted, and covered with red clay, and has a perfect resemblance to a string of candles hanging from A short distance up the river, in the their heads; this is an invariable cus-east angle of the bay, I fired and killed tom of both sexes, I never saw any a bird, and on my return to the waterbut children without it. Men of con- ing party, where some hundreds of the sequence suspend great quantities of natives were collected, the officer told thongs from their heads, about 18inches me, that on hearing the report of the long, and covered with clay in the musket, they all fell to the ground. I gave them the bird to examine, at the The personal ornaments, as I have sight of which they were quite overbefore observed, consist of vertebræ joyed; I suppose it released their minds of snakes, strung, and used as neck- from some alarm for the safety of a laces and bracelets, and twisted round friend. One of the shot had struck the loins; also the skulls and jaw- the bird in the head, and the blood bones of wild animals, and a neat sort was fresh issuing from the wound. of plat, made of small black and white | This appeared to strike them with horshells. The women wear a kind of ror. Afterwards many would not apmat from the knee to the calf of the proach us with a musket in our hands; leg, which appeared to me to be a and if in our intercourse with them defence for the knee, in some work they became disorderly, or attempted performed in a kneeling posture, but any theft or chicanery, the lifting of a the French mulatto told me it was to musket would cause some hundreds increase the size of the calf. The men of them to run away. In short, I all wear straw hats; those of the believe their repugnance to our visitchiefs are covered with a monkey skin; ing their towns arose more from fear they also wear a pair of ram's horns than jealousy, as the women were conon the forehead, which is braided round stantly on the beach with the watering with a snake's vertebræ. The person and wooding parties, bartering their who was pointed out to me as king, produce. I adopted every means of or principal man of the island, wore a acquiring their confidence, by using cockade of red feathers in front of his their own manner of courtesy, throwhat. ing myself among some hundreds of them alone, allowing them to examine the surface of the skin of my hands, legs, and bosom, which they did with great curiosity, and seemed to express astonishment and wonder; this alone proves the very little intercourse they have had with Europeans. Their government, though nominally monarchical, like all those at the head of societies in their early ages of civilization, borders more upon an aristocratic form. Every town seems to possess its own chief. Whether his authority descends to him by right of inheritance, or he assumes it from superior abilities and courage, I know not, but rather suspect his title is founded on the latter. Their only weapons of defence are small sticks, barbed and pointed at one end; these are never let out of the hand, but used as a thrust; cach person is provided! By the above means, I gained an ascendency over them, greater than any other person, and at last succeeded, after some difficulty, in gaining admission to two of their nearest towns. On my approach, all the children, and the greater part of the women, disappeared, and went into the bush; MENTS.-Essay I. however, some of the latter acquired | INSTABILITY OF ALL EARTHLY ENJOYconfidence, and again returned;-I was much surprised at not finding any halt or lame remaining behind. The spot usually selected for their towns, is the top of some rising ground, around which their houses are built, leaving an open space in the centre. The form of the house is about twelve feet long, six high from the ridge of the roof, and two from the eaves; the end faces the common area, and has in front of it a space neatly railed in with sticks, which, I suppose, answers for their stock-yard at night. In one of the front angles is the door, a small hole about three feet high, just large enough for one person to crawl in. The inside is divided into two apartments, the front one very small, not more than four feet long, which answers for a cook-room, the back room is the sleeping-room for the whole family in wet weather; in the dry, they generally sleep in the open air. The sides of the houses are formed of wickerwork, and the ends of upright boards hewn out of the tree; the roof is thatched. The thicket or wood grows close to the back of the town, and conceals it from view until you are nearly in it. This description may not answer, in every particular, for towns up the sides of the mountains and hills, where the country appears to be perfectly cleared of wood, but is strictly accurate of those near the sea. As it is only by frequent exposure to danger, that man acquires fortitude or courage; and as these people, from their few wants and necessities, have scarcely any division of property among them, to give cause for internal broils or dissensions; and as an enemy from without has been hitherto perfectly unknown, at least to the present generation, their repose, added to the influence of an enervating climate, has rendered them an extremely timid, inoffensive people. From their little intercourse with other countries, those luxuries, which in course of time become wants of the first necessity, are perfectly unknown to them. The most pure virgin appeared as unconscious of indecency, and as free from insult from the exposure of her person, as she would have been, in other countries, under the protecting influence of the vestment of a convent. (To be concluded in our next. ) Βέβαιον ἐδὲν εν βίω δοκει πελέν. "Sæpius ventis agitatur ingens Pinus et celsæ graviore casu Decidunt turres; feriuntque summes Fulmina montes." The solemn temples, the great globe itself, "The cloud-capt towers, the gorgeous palaces, Yea, all which it inherits, shall dissolve; And, like the baseless fabric of a vision, Leave not a wreck behind.” MAN, in his present state, is subject to so many changes,-such variety of uncontrollable events; the concerns of this world are so precarious in their issue, and life itself is of such uncertain duration, that human reason, independently of a divine revelation, should induce us to look forward to a future scene of things, far more durable than the present, and better adapted to the sublime nature and capacities of the human soul. "L'homme est sujet à bien des vicissitudes." That man is liable to vicissitude, and that he has "no continuance here," the events of past ages, and the experience of the passing hour, abundantly assure us. If we look into the world, how many instances are to be met with of injustice flourishing, worth pining in obscurity, and of genius contending with poverty. He, who to-day rolls in affluence and splendour, may on the morrow become an object of pity and commiseration to those who now behold him with envynay, on the morrow he may sleep in death. We see the young and the old, the feeble and the strong, the sick and the healthy, drop into the grave together. On this side, we behold the fond parent mourning the departed spirit of a beloved-an only child; on that, the widow and her orphans weeping for the husband and the father that has left them. Here lies an old man, who has come to the grave like “a shock of corn in its season," and, beside him, one cut off in the midst of his years, and the plenitude of strength. "Lethi vis rapuit, rapietque, gentes." Since "the beginning” many generations of men have arisen, and passed successively away.-History speaks of them; it tells of their achievements, it describes, in a florid manner, the magnificence of their cities, temples, and palaces; it applauds the brave, range, Nor search the ancient records of our race To learn the dire effects of time and change, Which in ourselves, alas! we daily trace!" Passing from the consideration of general instances presented to us by the world at present, and in the times gone by, we shall not fail to meet with particulars in our homes. In the bosom of his family, amidst the occurrences of domestic life, a man feels the instability of mortal things. The business of the day fails of its object, or, if it be gained, it is frequently found to be inadequate to the labour bestowed for its attainment. Our solicitude for those that are dear to us, and our exertions for their welfare, are rendered abortive by an untoward appearance of things which we could not have foreseen, or even if we had, we could not have ordered otherwise. Whilst sitting at the social board, the vacant seat of one whom we venerated, esteemed, or loved, serves to intimate to us that the strongest ties of nature must be broken. And are there not some who recur to their own hearts, and need no other evidence than they afford of the truth, that the fondest hopes of humanity may be blighted? Are there not some in whose breasts may linger the remembrance of happier days? This truth is clearly illustrated by the words of Omar, the sage of the valley, to the wanderers of the desertthe youthful pilgrims, the inexperienced children of the dust-Lara and Alzaide. "Listen, my children, to the voice of him whom the great Alla hath convinced of ignorance, and enlightened with knowledge; on whom the benign Spirit hath poured the streams of mercy and peace. Omar, the sage of the valley, proffers the words of experience;-hear bis instructions, and be wise. "Threescore times hath the Spirit of the years swept through the valley, since the youth of Omar; since he said to the sun, 'I will rejoice in thy beams,' and to the orb of night, 'I love thy brightness on the waters.' This silent valley, now the dwelling of his age, was then the pleasant place of his youth. Many visions were before him, in the day, of preferment and honour; and the night gave to his arms the beautiful Zuleika. Scated together, their bark glid over the peaceful lake, whilst the moon cast the tall shadows of the cedars on its waters. The odorous gale of evening pass'd them by; and the Peri hung their golden lamps in the dome of heaven. Omar then was young, eager, confident, and fearless. This world was to him as the garden of paradise, and Zuleika as the fairest of the Houris. Shah Abbas, the lord of Persia, looked kindly on his servant Omar; he shared with him the toils of government, and made him the friend of his bosom. But the whispers of calumny were against Omar, and the spirit of death deprived him of Zuleika. Disgusted with the world, and inconsolable for his loss, he retired to his valley. Grief sat long and heavily upon him; but the light of Alla shone upon his soul.--He was humbled and instructed. Lara and Alzaide, listen to the aged Omar-listen, and be wise. 66 My children, rejoice in the innocence of youth, and be thankful.Taste the passing pleasures that surround you, and adore the beneficence of Alla.-But, repine not at your fate, nor murmur against the divine will, if those pleasures continually elude your grasp, and mock your pursuit. To view them with indifference, were ingratitude; to be inconsolable for their loss, a weakness unworthy of a being which must arrive at perfection in another life. Earth, her sons and her possessions, are unstable; we must look upward for the things that endure. "My children, when Omar was young, he listened in yonder hall to the voice of the minstrel, and the pleasant sound of the lute. That star, now seen in the east, was shining then. It hath abated nothing of its splendour. Azan sleeps;-the voice of mirth is hushed. The once youthful Omar leans upon his staff; his beard has become white, and sweeps upon his breast; and his life is but as the tremulous gleam of the expiring taper. That urn of light, which once smiled upon the magnificence of Azan, | now looks down upon the wreck of human grandeur. It will remain the same, when there is no Omar to speak with you; when you have proved the truth of his words, and when you sleep with Omar in the dust. We must look upward for the things that endure. 66 Lara and Alzaide, your's is the season of youth. You are as Omar and Zuleika were. May you live long for each other, and be happy. May the angel of mercy dash the cup of affliction from your hands, before you taste it. Yet, whatever awaits you in this world is by the will of Alla; and calm resignation to his unerring justice, is the greatest virtue and wisdom of his children. "Youth is as the morning sun, whose brightness is obscured by the cloud of the storm ere half its course is finished. It is as the vessel, with the gilded prow, riding on the ocean wave, which anon strikes upon the rocks and perishes.-It is as a painted bubble floating on the bosom of the air, that bursts, and ends in nothing.— It is like the exulting shout of the warrior, ending in a dying groan, Yet youth may be happy, and age honourable. He that does well in youth, will be reverenced in age, and his death will be as the gathering in of the harvest in its season." Such were the words of Omar; and Lara and Alzaide placed them on record for the benefit of posterity. ZELIM. (To be continued.) APHORISMS FROM THE WRITINGS OF THE REV. R. HALL, OF LEICESTER. (Continued from col. 1003, Vol. VII.) 55.-IF the merit of a performance be very conspicuous, it is the less necessary to multiply words in order to shew it; and if it have little or none, it need not be conducted to the land of forgetfulness with the pomp of criticism. 56.-The peculiar doctrines of Christianity are distinguished by a spirit irreconcileably at variance with that of the world. The deep repentance it enjoins, strikes at the pride and levity of the human heart. 57.-The superabundance of phrases appropriated by some pious authors to the subject of religion, and never applied to any other purpose, has not only the effect of disgusting persons of taste, but of obscuring religion itself. 58. As the truths which the revelation of the New Testament unfolds, are perfectly original, and transcendently important, it might naturally be expected, that the communication of them would give birth to an original cast of phraseology; or, in other words, a steady adherence to certain terms, in order to render the ideas which they conveyed, fixed, precise, and unchangeable. 59.-The friendship which is founded on kindred tastes and congenial habits, apart from piety, is permitted by the benignity of Providence, to embellish a world, which, with all its magnificence and beauty, will shortly pass away; that which has religion for its basis will, ere long, be transplanted, in order to adorn the paradise of God. 60. To arbitrate amongst interfering claims of inclination, is the moral arithmetic of human life. 61.-True courage is firm, and unassuming: true piety serious, and humble. 62.-That future condition of being, which religion ascertains, and for which its promises and truths are meant to prepare us, is the ultimate end of human societies,-the final scope and end of present existence. 63. The admiration of perfect wisdom and goodness, for which we are formed, and which kindles such unspeakable rapture in the soul, finding, in the regions of scepticism, nothing to which it corresponds, droops and languishes, 64.-If we look upon the usual course of our feelings, we shall find that we are more influenced by the frequent recurrence of objects, than by their weight and importance; and that habit has more force in forming our character than our opinions have. 65.-A motive, in which the reason of man shall acquiesce, enforcing the practice of virtue at all times and seasons, enters into the very essence of moral obligation. 66.-The poor man who has gained a taste for good books, will, in all likelihood, become thoughtful; and when you have given the poor a habit of thinking, you have conferred on them a much greater favour than by the gift of a large sum of money, since you have put them in possession of the principle of all legitimate prosperity. 67.-The moral quality of conduct, as it seems both to ascertain and to form the character, has consequences in a future world, so certain and infallible, that it is represented in scripture as a seed, no part of which is lost, for whatsoever a man soweth, that also shall be reap. 68.-It is remarkable, that the chief points about which real Christians are divided, are points on which the sacred volume is silent; mere human fabrications, which the presumption of men has attached to the Christian system. 69.-No wonder the church of Rome is such a friend to ignorance; it is but paying the arrears of gratitude, in which she is deep indebted. 70. The order of nature is evermore from particulars to generals. As in the operations of intellect, we proceed from the contemplation of individuals to the formation of general abstractions, so, in the development of the passions, in like manner, we advance from private to public affections; from the love of parents, brothers, and sisters, to those more expanded regards which embrace the immense society of human kind. “ 71.-Vanity, when it succeeds, degenerates into arrogance; when it is disappointed, (and it is often disap will its influence decrease, and its progress be arrested. Christianity, pure and undefiled, in undebased lustre, making no truce with the spirit or temper of the world, unmoved by its reproaches, its taunts, or its entreaties,-may and will excite the hatred of men; whom, at the same time, it influences and improves. It is a pure and holy light, irradiating a darkened atmosphere, and compelling iniquity to fly before it; driving men to their holes and their corners, for fear of the Lord and the glory of his majesty. Had Christianity been a mere system of improved ethics, and a high moral exhibition of the character of God, it would possibly have been admired by the few, neglected by the many, yet persecuted by none. But when it erects its banners in total opposition to all human schemes, and demands not only their destruction, but lays a peculiar and novel claim to a seat in the heart;-and, more than that, claims the very throne of the heart, laying all human wisdom prostrate; it depresses and degrades man. When it appeals to facts without, and to conscience within, it must, to those whose eyes are darkened, whose ears are heavy, and whose minds and consciences are defiled, be an object of dislike and neglect. Christianity, when faithfully exhipointed,) it is exasperated into malig-bited, invariably produces a struggle nity, and corrupted into envy. THE DIGNITY AND PERFECTION OF THE GOSPEL. CONSIDERING the enmity of the carnal mind against God, it is matter of some surprise that the religion of the gospel influences mankind to the extent it does, when the gospel itself is rejected and despised. This affords, at least to the sincere inquirer, some encouragement, as a proof that the nature of the revelation is worthy of God, and suited to man. It is a mistake, to suppose that the world will be won by lowering the spirituality of the gospel, to suit the prejudices of mankind; for in exact proportion as the demands of Christianity are concealed or lowered, as its doctrines are kept out of sight, its positive requirements softened, or its spiritual demands compromised, in the minds of those to whom it is addressed. It is so much in alliance with every principle of conscience, and every trace of natural religion, that the first impression of every one is, that it ought to be received. But when it is drawn to a parallel with the world and its allurements, as men love darkness rather than light, because their deeds are evil, Christianity is rejected, its advocates are despised, persecuted, and forsaken; -and in every age of the church they have been followers of Him, who was despised and rejected of men, both in bis doctrines and his sorrows. But, how much soever an object of dislike and persecution, it has triumphed, and it will continue to triumph, until it shall be universally received and obeyed; and its progress has always been in proportion as it exhibits those features which place it most in opposition to the world and its requisitions.--Whereveritis exhibited, |