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Scenes in foreign lands, or, A view of some of the most remarkable wonders of travel

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Title:
Scenes in foreign lands, or, A view of some of the most remarkable wonders of travel an interesting and instructive book for young people
Portion of title:
View of some of the most remarkable wonders of travel
Creator:
Fanshaw, Daniel, 1788?-1860 ( Publisher )
Huestis & Cozans ( Publisher )
Place of Publication:
New-York
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Huestis & Cozans
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D. Fanshaw
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Copyright Date:
1853
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English
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156 p., <1> leaf of plates : ill. ; 15 cm.

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Historical geography -- Juvenile literature ( lcsh )
Voyages around the world -- Juvenile literature ( lcsh )
Missionaries -- Juvenile literature ( lcsh )
Pictorial cloth bindings (Binding) -- 1853 ( rbbin )
Bldn -- 1853
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Pictorial cloth bindings (Binding) ( rbbin )
non-fiction ( marcgt )
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United States -- New York -- New York
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juvenile ( marctarget )

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"Illustrated with numerous elegant engravings."

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University of Florida
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University of Florida
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FPRONTISPIECE

A GLANCE AT CHINA.



SCENES

FOREIGN LANDS:

OR, A VIEW OF SOME OF THE MOST

REMARKABLE WONDERS OF TRAVEL.

e
AN INTERESTING AND INSTRUCTIVE BOOK FOR YOUNG PROPLE.

(WUSTRATED WITH BUMEROUS ELEGANT ENGRAVINGS.

om

NEW.YORK :
HUBSTIS & COZANS,

104 & 106 NASSAU-STREET

One eneenenpeen sans cceamsser reese nereensnceneuenenese semen oRens are

“D. Fanabew, Printer, 35 Snn-street, cor. Nessm,






CONTENTS.

A GLANCE AT CHINA

BOOTHIA FELIX AND THE ESQUIMAUX

THE AMPHITHEATRE OF VERONA
AUSTRALIA AND THE KANGAROO

ROPE BRIDGES—INDIA

LONDON, PAST AND PRESENT

4 WARROW VILLAGE—GUIANA

THE AFRICAN KING .
THE LAND'’S END AND THE CORNISH WRECKERS .
THE ASHANTEE OnIEF

THE EDDYSTONE LIGHTHOUSE

ARCTIO REGIONS

THE CHINESE. ° . e

(8)

4
87

5&

74
76

95
102
ill



iv OONTENTS.

ALNWICK OASTLE

COMPARATIVE SIZE OF PUBLIC BUILDINGS
THE CHURCHES OF ST. PETER AND 6T. PAUL
THE NEST OF THE WILD BEB

188
189
142
146



SCENES IN FOREIGN: LANDS.



A GLANCE AT CHINA.

Tun Macedonian king, when he had reached the banks of
the Indus, wept like a spoiled child at the belief that he
should soon have no more worlds to conquer. He knew
not that far beyond the Ganges, whose sacred stream he
never visited, was a vast region, more populous, more

ivilized, and more wealthy than any of those which his
armies, in their rapid march from the Hellespont, eastward,
to the swift Hydaspes, had overrun. Two hundred years
before the era of Alexander the Great flourished Coon-foo-
tse, or, as he is known to Europeans, Confucius, the sage
and lawgiver of China, and the contemporary of Herodotus,
the father of Grecian history. And for centuries before
the time of Confucius had the Chinese empire existed;
counting far back her rulers and her dynasties, till the
truth of history was lost in a mist of mytholgical ex-



6 A GLANCE Ai CHINA

aggeration, which absurdly claims for the “Celestial Em-
pire’—as the Chinese fondly term their country—a date
some centuries previous to the time fixed by Moses for
the creation of man. This, however, the more enlightened
among themselves are-content to consider fabulous.

The simple truth is sufficiently wonderful without re-
sorting to fable; for strange indeed it is that a mighty
empire should have flourished, whose very name was for
centuries a mystery to the nations of the West, and whose
existence was sometimes treated as a chimera.

For more than twenty centuries China appears to have
attained nearly the same degree of civilization and ad-
vancement in arts, sciences, and government which now
so favorably distinguish it from other Asiatic nations;
and there it appears to have been nearly stationary.
While the “outside barbarians” of the West have been
struggling, century efter century, out of the darkness and
ignorance and brutality of their forefathers, the Chinese,
content with the wisdom, the discoveries, and the pre-
cepts that so justly distinguished the remote antiquity of
their empire, have hitherto shared but little in the mighty
changes, whether for good or evil, which have passed over
the face of the earth.

The doctrines of Christianity made but little progress



A GLANCE AT CHINA. 7

amid ‘the millions of the Celestial empire ; the Jesuits be-
ing for a long period the only possessors of the Christian
religion that obtained an entrance, and they were admitted,
not as teachers of another faith, but as astronomers, astro-
logers, and mathematicians. Mahomet appeared upon the
scene, and shook the thrones of half the known world.
The faith he preached spread from Arabia, and overflowed
all Jands, from the Straits of Gibraltar in the West to
Central Asia in the East; triamphing alike over the dead
and corrupted forms of superstition, that in the sixth cen-
tury usurped the name of Christianity—over the tenets of
Zoroaster, which still lingered amid the fire-worshippers
of Persia—over Bramah and the subject idols of Hindostan.
Bat while thrones and religions thus fell before the sword
of Islam, the doctrines of Confucius retained their sway
undisturbed throughout the extent of China.

The Tartars of Central Asia, they whose kindred at
different periods and under different names have ravaged
the most fertile and populous regions of Europe and Asia,
have twice invaded China, and seated a Tartar dynasty
upon the throne of Pekin; and the present Emperor of
China is the sixth descendant of the Manchou Tartar chief
who conquered China in 1643. But though a Tartar race
may rule, China and the Chinese remain essentially un-



8 A GLANCE AT CHINA.

changed ; the religion, the manners, the very name even of
the conquerors is absorbed and all but lost in those of the
conquered: the Tartar becomes Chinese; and while the
unwarlike nature and peaceable and industrious habits of
this remarkable people appear to render them an easy
prey to the brute force of a handful of invaders, their
immense numbers, the general diffusion of education
among them, the profound reverence and attachment to
the laws, language, and customs of their ancestors—fos-
tered from earliest infancy—these and other causes ensure
their essential independence as a nation, and enable them
to retain, by a species of passive resistance and conserva-
tive inertia, all their national characteristics unchanged
through the lapse of ages.

Lord Brougham, in his striking way, has summed up
the most remarkable features in the character and history
of the Chinese. “A territory of enormous extent, stretch-
ing 1400 miles from east to west, and as many from north
to south—peopled by above three hundred millions of
persons, all living under one sovereign—preserving their
customs for a period far beyond the beginning of authentic
history elsewhere—civilized when Europe was sunk in
barbarism—possessed, many centuries before ourselves, of
the arte which we deem the principal triumphs of civiliza-



4 GLANCE AT CHINA. ®

tion, end even yet not equalled by the industry and enter
prise of the West in the prodigious extent of their public
works—with a huge wall 1500 miles in length, built 2000
years ago, and a canal of 700, four centuries before any
canal had ever been known in Europe,—the sight of such
country and such a nation is mightily calculated to fix
the attention of the most careless observer, and to warm
the fancy of the most indifferent. But there are yet more
things unfolded in the same quarter to the eye of the politi-
cal philosopher.

“ All this vast empire under a single head; its countless
myriads of people yielding an obedience so regular and so
mechanical, that the government is exercised as if the
control were over animals or masses of inert matter; the
military force at the ruler’s disposal so insignificant, that
the mere physical pressure of the crowd must instantly
destroy it were the least resistance attempted :—the people
all this while, not only not plunged in rude ignorance, but
more generally possessed of knowledge, toa certain ex-
tent, and more highly prizing it than any other nation in
the world :—the institutions of the country established for
much above five-and-twenty centuries, and never changing
or varying (in principle at least) during that vast period
of time :—the inhabitants, with all their refinement and



10 4, GLANCE AT CHINA.

the early progress in knowledge and in the arts, never
passing a certain low point, so that they exbibit the only
instance in the history of our species of improvement
being permanently arrested in its progress :—the resources
of this civilized state incalculable, yet not able to prevent
two complete conquests by a horde of barbarians, and to
chastise the piracies of a neighboring island, (Japan,) or
to subdue a petty tribe, (Meaoutse,) existing, troublesome
and independent, in the centre of a monareby, which
seems as if it could crush them by a single movement of
its body :—the police of the state, all-powerful in certain
directions, and in others so weak as to habitually give way
for fear of being defeated: the policy of the state an un-
exampled mixture of wisdom and folly, profound views
and superficial errors :—patronage of arts and sciences,
combined with prohibition of foreign improvements :—en-
couragement of domestic industry, with exclusion of in-
ternal commerce :—promotion of inland manufacture and
trade, without employing the precious metals as a medium
of exchange :—suffering perpetually from the population
encroaching upon the means of subsistence, and yet sys-
tematically stimulating the increase of its numbers; re-
moving every check which might mitigate the evil, and
closing every outlet for the redundancy.”



A GLANCE AT CHINA. il

There seems good reason to believe, that the great jeal-
ousy of intercourse with foreigners, which the rulers of
China have for so many years exhibited in so remarkable
& manner, arose mainly from the fears of the Tartar
rulers, lest their people, by acquaintance with other ne-
tions, should acquire inclitation or power to throw off
their foreign yoke; and that the vexatious and insulting
obstructions to commerce, so long persisted in, were
scarcely more obnoxious to us than to the wishes and
habits of the Chinese people, although their love of order
and reverence for the authority of their rulers checked
any exhibition of this feeling on their part.

If this be the case, we may indulge a not unreasonable
hope that the war, so recently waged by England against
China, contemptible, not to say disgraceful, as it was in
its origin, may, in its consequences, be beneficial to the
Chinese, as well as to other nations.

Sir Henry Pottinger, (who negotiated on the part of
England the treaty of Nanking which was concluded in
1843,) with wise and liberal policy, stipulated for no ex-
clusive privilege to England, but included other nations in
its provisions for free commercial intercourse. Sir Henry
speaks most highly of the ability and uprightness of some
of the Chinese Mandarins, who conferred with him upoa



13 4 GLANCE AT CHINA.

the provisions of the treaty; and the esteem appears to
have been mutual, and to have ripened into friendship.

The Chinese, astonished that an island of inconsidera-
ble size could exhibit, at such an immense distance from
home, power and resources sufficient to baffle all the
efforts of their own great empire, in the very centre of its
dominions, have lost mach of that overweening self-
conceit which made them affect to treat all visitors as
tributariés and subjects, and therefore as objects of con-
tempt and insult. The English, as their acquaintance
with the language and customs of this singular people in-
creases, appear to find more and more to respect and to
adinire, and less t6 ridicule; and let us hope that, by the
mutual exercise of forbearance and confidence, the newly
cemented friendship between England end China may
continue undisturbed by oppression on one part, and by ill
faith on the other. .

I have thus endeavored to afford a few general “Glimp-
ses of the Wonderful” in this great portion of the human
family; for seeing that so many works, of easy access for
all readers, have recently appeared, containing descrip-
tions of China in every aspect, it seemed needless to
repeat the process here. Every reader, young and old,
is by this time familiar with the quaint, unwieldy forms



A GLANCE AT CHINA. 18

of Chinese junks, with their high, overhanging sterns,
their bamboo sails, and ornaments of paint and gilding ;—~
the nine-storied pagodas, with their porcelain roofs,
peaked, and ornamented with bells and flags, are known
to us all from the days of childhood, when we admired the
blue pictures on our plates, beneath the meat and pudding ;
and there too, and in many pictured page of greater
pretensions, we have become familiar with Chinese
bridges, fish-ponds, and pleasure-houses, and the never-
absent willow—the doll-like lady, with her pinched and
stunted feet, and the fat Mandarin, with his long tail.
The Chinese Exhibition, too, has shown to thousands of
delighted visitors the manners and productions of the
empire in yet more vivid reality. And as to the Great
Northern Wall, one of the “ wonders of the world,” be they
limited to seven, or extended to a hundred, it is familiar
to every young student of geography ; and so we need not
enlarge upon it here, but will take our flight to other
scenes in search of other wonders.



BOOTHIA FELIX AND THE ESQUIMAUY.

For the last three hundred years, attempts have been
made by navigators of different Ecropean nations to find
@ northern passage to India and China, and the othersich
countries and islands of eastern Asia, and thus to avoid
the long voyages round the southern extremities of Africa
or South America. There is hardly a doubt that such
& passage exists, both in a western and in an eastern di-
rection; the one along the northern shore of Asia, the
othor through Baffin’s Bay, and between the islands that
are clustered along the Arctic shore of North America.
But it is almost cqually certain that, even should some
fortuna‘e voyager be able, in some very mild season, to
force his way by either channel, the discovery will be of
little practical utility for merchant-vessels, until the cli-
mate of that part of the globe materially alters. It is only
during unusually mild years that the snow ever disappears
froma the land, or the ice from the sea, even in the height
of at Pi and this is only for a very few weeks, or even










BOOTHIA FELIX AND THE ESQUIMAUX 17

days, and then again all is buried jy adamantine chains
for nine or ten weary months.

The last attempt to discover the long-sought northwest
passage was made in 1829, by Captain Ross. Aided by Sir
Felix Booth, a wealthy London merchant, he fitted out a
steam vessel, called the Victory, with every requisite for a
polar voyage. After some delays and disappointments,
chiefly from the defective state of the boiler and other parts
of the steam-engine, the captain reached Baffin’s Bay, vis-
ited the Danish settlement of Helsteinberg, on the coast of
Greenland, and entered Lancaster's Sound. He sailed down
Prince Regent's Inlet, to the spot where Captain Parry's
ship, the Fury, had been wrecked four years before. Her
crew had returned to England in the Hecla, and as this
vessel could not contain .all her stores, they were neces-
sarily abandoned, after having been piled on the beach in
regular order. Captain Ross had obtained permission
from government to muke use of them, and he was not
disappointed in his calculation of finding that they had
sustained no material injury. When he landed on the
beach, with three of his officers, he found only one tent
left entire. This had been the mess-tent of the Fory’s
officers, and it was evident that the bears and foxes had
paid it frequent visits. However, the preserved meats and



i8 BOOTHIA FELIX AND THE E3SQUIMAUX

vegetables were effectually protected from the sharp noses
and strong jaws of these hungry visitors by the strongly-
soldered tin canisters; and though the two heaps had
been exposed to all weathers, they had not suffered in the
slightest degree :—one hot summer's day in a milder
region would have done more mischief than all the storms
of the polar sky. Besides preserved meat and vegetables,
there were wine, spirits, bread, flour, sugar, cocoa, lime-
juice, and pickles. They then took on board the Victory
stores and provisions sufficient for their use during the
space of two years and a quarter, by which time they
hoped to have made their way through the long-desired
passage, and returned to England. Vain hopes, only to end
in long suffering and disappointment! However, the
whole party were in excellent spirits at finding, in an
abandoned region of solitude, and ice, and rocks, a ready
market for all their wants collected in one spot, ready for
shipment and free of cost ; and having thus provided them
selves, they proceeded on their voyage down Prince Re-
gent’s Inlet, at the bottom of which they hoped to find a
passage to the westward.

The winter of 1829 was unusually mild in that part
of the world, and the sea being therefore comparatively
free from ice, the Victory reached the bottom of the



BOOTHIA FELIX AND THE ESQUIMAUX. 10

inlet before the winter set in, without any great diffi-
culty. By the 8th of October, Hbwever, the ice had
gathered round them, and they were fast frozen in.
“There was not,” writes the captain, “an atom of clear
water to be seen anywhere, and, excepting the occasional
dark points of a protruding rock, nothing but one dazzling
and monotonous, dull and wearisome extent of snow was
visible all round the horizon in the direction of the land.
It was indeed a dull prospect amid all its brilliancy ; this’
land—this land of ice and snow—has ever been, and ever
will be, a dull, dreary, heart-sinking, monotonous waste,
under the influence of which every mind is paralyzed,
ceasing to care or think, as it ceases to feel what might,
did it occur but once, or last but one day, stimulate us by
its novelty; for it is but a view of uniformity, and silence,
and death.”

However, though the captain wrote thus dismally, he
took every precaution to preserve the health and spirits of
his men, and with good success. The rigging of the ship
‘was taken down, a roof, with canvass sides hanging be-
low the ship's bulwarks, was built over the deck, and
under this the men might take exercise when the weather
was too severe and boisterous to permit their leaving the
ship with safety. Pipes were placed, both to warm and te



20 BOOTHIA FELIK AND THE ESQUIMAUX.

ventilate the interior of the ship. The men’s hammocks
were taken down at six in the morning, and hung up at
ten every night. The lower deck, being the dwelling-
floor, was covered with hot sand every morning, and
scrubbed till eight o'clock, when they breakfasted. The
upper deck having been covered with snow two and a half
feet thick, was trodden down, till it became a solid mass
of ice, and was then sprinkled with sand. At six o’clock
“every evening the sailors attended school, in which the
officers officiated as teachers; and the captain states, that
the men seemed to feel that they all belonged to one
family, evincing mutual kindness, with a regularity and
tranquillity of behavior not very general on board of a
ship.

Several expeditions were now made from the ship,
during which it was ascertained that they were on a large
peninsula, in the Polar Sea, which bounds the northern
shore of America. To this peninsula Captain Ross gave
the name of Boothia Felix, in honor of his patron, Sir
Felix Booth; but in no other respect does the name Felix
appear appropriate, for, by the captain’s account, this is
one of the most miserable and inhospitable regions that
man has ever visited, being at the very centre of arctic
cold—a land which is never, even during the height of its



BOOTHIA FELIX AND THE ESQUTRAUX. 21

brief summer, free from ice and snow—where such a thing
as a tree or a flower is never seen; mosses and lichens,
and in sheltered situatiors a few grasses, being almost the
only signs of vegetation. It is true, the poor captain and
his men were frozen in, and compelled to pass, not one but
four dreary winters there, sorely against their hopes and
wishes, when they had expected to acquire great renown
by forcing their way through the Polar Sea, and emerging
through Behring’s Straits into the Pacific Ocean.

Early in January, 1830, their solitude was interrupted
by the visits of some Esquimaux, the wandering inhabit-
ants of this frozen land; for, strange as it may appear to
us, there are actually people who love this country as
their father-land—who are born, and pass their lives in its
frozen solitudes, doubtless enjoying as much happiness as
if this region were the brightest, sunniest spot on earth.
The Esquimaux are a simple-hearted, harmless people,
with broad, good-humored, healthy faces. There were
thirty-one in this party, of whom the eldest, Illicta, was
sixty-five years old; six others between forty and fifty;
twenty between forty and twenty; the number being made
up by four boys. Two were lame, and, with the old man,
were drawn by the others in sledges. They were all
well dressed, chiefly in excellent deer-skins, the upper



23 BOOTHIA FELIX AND THE ESQUIMAUX.

garments double, and encircling the body, reaching in front
from the chin to the middle of the thigh, and having a
cape behind to draw over the head. The sleeves covered
the fingers, and of the two skins that composed this gar-
ment, one had the hair next the body, and the other in the
reverse direction. They had on two pairs of boots, with
the hairy side turned inward, and above them deer-skin
trousers, reaching very low on the leg; besides which,
some of them had shoes outside their boots, and trousers
of seal instead of deer-skin. And very comfortable
clothing this must have been for such a frozen climate.
Under such e heap of clothing they appeared a much
larger people than they really were. All of them bore
spears, looking not much unlike a walking-stick, with a
ball of wood or ivory at one end, and a point of horn at
the other. On examining the shafts they were found to
be formed, not of one long stick, (for where no trees
grow no sticks can be cut,) but of small pieces of wood,
or of the bones of animals very neatly joined together.
But where can they obtain small picces of wood any more
than long sticks? During the summer, great quantities of
drift-wood float along the shores of the Polar seas, and
this is eagerly collected by the Esquimaux for fuel and
other uses. This wood probably grew, for the most part,



BOOTHIA FELIX AND THE ESQUIMAUKX. ‘23

on the banks of some of the American rivers, which flow
into the Polar seas—some of it may even be brought down
the rivers of the northeast of Asia. However, from what-
ever quarter it comes, it is borne to and fro by the winds
and currents, until, being caught in some of the numerous
bays that indent these coasts, it falls into the hands of the
Esquimaur.

Not having expected them at this moment, Captain
Ross had no presents for them; but they consented to
accompany him to the ship, and were delighted by the
gift of thirty-one pieces of hoop iron. In return they
offered their spears and knives, but were very well pleased
to find their offer was not accepted. “We could now
easily see,” writes Captain Ross, “that their appearance
was very superior to our own; being at least as well
clothed and far better fed, with plump cheeks, of as rosy
a color as they could be under so dark a skin. Like
other Esquimaux, their good-natured faces were a regular
oval; the eyes dark and approaching each other, the nose
small, and the hair black.” They seemed cleaner, too, than
some the captain had seen in former voyages. Their
dresses were made with peculiar neatness, and some were
ornamented with fringes, made of sinews or with strings
of amall bones. They did not relish the preserved meat



24 BOOTHIA FELIX AND THE ESQUIMAUL

that was given them, but on being offered some oil, drank
it off with great delight. Blubber, fat, tallow, in short,
grease of any kind, however disgusting to us, is eagerly
sought and devoured by the Esquimaux. And Captain
Roes remarks, very oddly, but not less truly, that it would
be very desirable if Europeans who visit the arctic re-
gions could acquire a taste for the same food ; since all
experience shows, that the large use of oil and fat meats
is the true secret of life and health in these frozen
countries, and that the natives cannot subsist without it,
becoming diseased and soon dying under a less oleaginous
diet.

Nor is this impossible, since patients in English hos-
pitals, who have been dosed with fish-oil for the cure of
rheumatism, soon learn to like it, and prefer that which
has the strongest flavor. Many who have perished in
the winters of those climates might doubtless have been
saved, if they had conformed to the usages and expe-
rience of the natives. How admirably has the Great
Father of men adapted the constitution of man to accom
modate itself to the climate and productions of the coun-
try which he inhabits |

The bears, seals, and whales, upon which the Esqui-
maux and Greenlanders live almost entirely, have an



BOOTHIA FELIK AND THE ESQUIMAUE 25

enormous quantity of fat in their huge bodies. This
fat is found by physiologists to be highly essential to
produce, in the process of respiration, a certain amount of
animal heat, so as to keep up the temperature of the body
in those climates. On the contrary, in temperate and
‘warm regions, such food as the Esquimaux enjoy would,
besides being disgusting, be useless and ourtfal; while
these people consume enormous quantities of it, and
are enabled thus to support the bitterness of an aretic
winter, without appearing to suffer more from the ex-
treme cold than do the residents of more genial climes
daring their winter. In other respects, too, it is curious
to observe how these poor people, simple and ignorant as
we may think them, manage to live in health, comfort,
and plenty, where Europeans, however hardy, and pro-
vided beforghand with a home, (their ship,) fitted up with
every comfort, with abundant stores of provision and ex-
pensive clothing, can hardly manage to exist for two or
three years—become diseased and emaciated, and think it
a great achievement to return home alive.

The Esquimaux seems to make even the cold, that ren-
ders every thing not living as hard as iron, subservient to
his purpose. In two hours he can build a perfect shelter
from the biting blast, with square blocks of mow. His



26 ‘BOOTHIA FELIX AND THE ESQUIMAUX

house is a dome of solid masonry, of which every part is
nicely fitted, and provided with a long winding gallery,
open in a direction opposite to that from which the coldest
winds blow. From the frozen bodies of fish he can form
a sledge, which, being bound together with the sinews of
bears and deer, glides securely over the frozen plain.
During the winter, sea and land are alike to him; he har-
nesses his dogs and gallops away over either, and finds his
food beneath the ice that covers the deep.

Captain Ross and his men soon returned the visits of
the Esguimaux, whose village consisted of twelve snow-
hats, which had the appearance of inverted besins. Each
hut had the long appendage mentioned before ; and oppo-
site the entrance of the principal apartment, which was a
circular dome, was a flooring of snow, raised about two
feet and a half high, and covered with various skins: this
formed the sleeping-place of the family. At one end of
this platform sat the mistress of the house, opposite the
lamp, which being of moss and oil, gave sufficient flame to
supply both light and heat. Over the lamp was the cook-
ing-dish of stone, containing the flesh of deer and of seals,
with oil, and there seemed abundance of this provision.
All these snow-huts were lighted by a large oval piece of
clear ice, fixed about half-way up, on the eastern side of



BOOTHIA FELIK AND THE ESQUIMAUX. 87

the roof. Captain Ross found that all these huts were
scarcely a day old. What cares the Esquimaux for wood
and bricks, and slate, and glass 1—he has his ice and mow,
with which he forms a perfect shelter in less time than our
builders would require to mark out the ground. This party
of Esquimanux, and some others besides, frequently visited
the ship, and made themselves very useful to our country-
men, by guiding them on their exploring trips, and catch-
ing fish. In payment for these services they were well
pleased to receive files, needles, and chisels—in short, iron
in any shape, of which they fully appreciated the use and
value.

One poor native, named Tulluiahu, had lost a leg, and
was obliged to be drawn on sledges whenever his company
moved from place to place. The ship’s carpenter set to
work to make him a wooden leg, with which he stamped
about with great delight at being once more set upright,
and able to walk. In token of gratitude for this service
his wife, Tiriksiu, made Captain Ross a complete female
dress, which was a first-rate specimen of Esquimaux tailor.
ing; the skins being most carefully fitted, so that the col-
ors of the far should match; while there was a fringe
below, and a border of white round the hood and arm-
holes. In return, the captain gave her a silk handkerchief



28 BOOTHIA FELIX AND THE ESQUIMAUK.

which attracted great admiration. Tiriksiu also gave
them some useful geographical information: she, in com-
mon with many of the natives, perfectly understood the
nature and object of a chart. In fact, Ikmalik, one of the
moet intelligent among them, had drawn, for the captain's
use, a chart of the neighboring coasts; and Tiriksiu, on
being shown it, marked, in addition, several islands, the
places where food could be obtained, and where they had
better sleep on their journey: and in this, ag in other in-
stances, it was found that their information was remarka-
bly accurate.

The sun at length began to appear above the horizon ;
the winter gradually passed away—at least so it would
be considered in those regions; and the Esquimaux de-
parted to their summer haunts.

The ice gradually melted around the ship, and the
voyagers made every preparation for sailing away. They
watched anxiously, day after day, for an opportunity of
Getting into open sea; but not until September did the
Victory once more float in free water. They got under
sail; they advanced about three miles through the loose
ice; which socn united again, blocked up the channel by
which they had hoped to escape, closed round the Vic-
tory, and once more were they bound in for another winter,



BOOTHIA FELIX AND THE ESQUIMAUX. 30

to be passed in the same manher as the last, but with
diminished hopes of success.

In August, 1831, the Victory floated once more, was
towed out of harbor by the boats, and this year they sailed
four miles, when they were again blocked up by the ice,
end a third dreary winter was before them.

As the summer of 1832 drew near, they determined to
abandon the ship, and endeavor to reach, in the open
boats, some part of the sea where they might fall in with
some of the whaling-ships; for by this time the stores
they had taken from Fury Beach were becoming exhaust-
ed, and it seemed needful to reduce the daily portion of
food.

They prepared their sledges, boats, and provisions ;
they nailed the English flag to the mast of the poor
Victory, and aban:loned her to her fate. Captain Ross
writes—“ It was the first vessel I had ever been obliged
to abandon, after having served in thirty-six, during a
period of forty-two years. It was like parting with an old
friend, and I did not pass the point where she ceased to be
visible, without stopping to take a sketch of this melan-
choly desert, rendered more melancholy by the solitary
abandoned home of our past years, fixed in immoveable
ice, till time should perform on her his usual work.”



30 BOOTHIA FELIX AND THE ESQUIMAOUX.

After many difficulties and hardships they again reached
Fury Beach on the Ist of July, and found the remainder
of the provisions in the same condition as they had left
them three years before. Here the poor travellers were
once more put on a fall allowance of food. They built
house, and rested for a month, in order to recruit after
their fatigues in dragging the boats and sledges over the
rough ice, or, worse still, the soft, melting snow. By the
Ist of August some clear, navigable water appeared ; the
boats were launched, and they beat about for the next two
months, in hopes of gaining the open sea, where they
might probably find some whaling-ships. It was, how-
exer, in vain ; the ice again closed round them, and leaving
their boats drawn up in a secure position on the beach,
they had once more to return to their house on Fury
Beach, and make preparations to pass there their fourth
winter, which they spent as before, but without any visits
from the Esquimaux, who do not appear to have frequent-
ed this spot.

In July, 1833, they once more set forward on their
way. They found the boats where they had left them
the preceding autumn, and during August they sailed
along the lane of water, which now appeared through
the ice, and by the 17th the sea was once more free.



BOOTHIA FELIX AND THE ESQUIMAUX. 31

On the 26th they were aroused by Wood, the look-out
man, who thought he saw “a sail in the offing;” and
the telescope soon showed that it really was a ship, though
there were still some despairers, who maintained that it
was only an iceberg, which frequently has the appearance,
at a distance, of a vessel under sail. No time was to be
lost ; they burned wet powder to attract attention from the
still distant vessel; launched the boats from the shore, and
set off, with sail and oar, in pursuit of her, and hoped
soon to have been alongside. Just then a breeze sprung
up, the ship bore up before it and sailed away, and left
the poor boats’ crews unnoticed, far behind. About ten
o'clock they saw another vessel to the northward, which
appeared to be lying-to for the boats. This, however, was
not the case, as she too soon bore up under all sail, and it
was too evident that she was fast leaving them. This
Was & most anxious moment for our poor discoverers, who
found themselves so near two ships, either of which would
have put an end to all their fears and toils, and yet that
they might possibly reach neither. Providentially, tho
wind ceased, and the boats once more gained on the ship,
whose crew soon discovered them, and a boat was lowered
and rowed directly towards the three in which were
Captain Ross and his men. She was soon within hail,



82 BOOTHIA FELIX AND THE ESQUIMAUX.

and the mate in command of her asked if they had lost
their ship. This being answered in the affirmative, the
captain requested to know the name of his vessel, and
was answered, “The Isabella, of Hull, formerly com-
manded by Captain Ross.” “On this I stated,” says the
captain, “that I was the idettical man, and my people
the crew of the Victory. That the mate was as much
astonished at this information as he appeared to be, I
do not doubt; but with the usual blunderheadednegs
of men on such occasions, he assured me that I had been
dead two years.” The captain soon convinced him that
he was mistaken, and a hearty congratulation, in true
seaman’s style, followed of course, and he returned to
his ship to tell the news. As they slowly followed him,
he jumped on board, and in a minute the rigging o! the
Isabella was manned, and Captain Ross and his men were
saluted with three cheers, and a hearty seaman’s welcome.
The captain adds—* Though we had not been supported
by our names and characters, we should not the less
have received from charity the attentions we reccived,
for never was seen o more miserable set of wretches: no
beggar that wanders in Ireland could have outcone us.
Unshaven since I know not when, dirty, dressed in the
rags of wild beasts, and starved to the very bones, our



BOOTHIA FELIX AND THE ESQUIMAUX. as

geunt and grim looks, when contrasted with those of the
well-dressed and well-fed men around us, made us all feel,
I believe for the first time, what we really were, as well
as what we seemed to others. But a ludicrous scene soon
took place of all other feelings. In such a crowd and in
sach confusion all serious thought was impossible, while ,
the new buoyancy of our spirits made us abundantly
willing to be amused by the scene which now opened.
Every man was hungry, and was to be fed;. all were
ragged, and were to be clothed; there was not one to
whom washing was not indispensable, nor one whom his
beard did not deprive of all English resemblance. All,
every thing, too, was to be done at once—it was washing,
dressing, shaving, eating, all intermingled—it was all the
materials ‘of each jumbled together, while in the midst of
all these there were interminable questions to be asked
and answered on all sides—the adventures of the Victory,
our own escapes, the politics of England, and the news
which was now four years old. But all subsided into
peace at last. The sick were accommodated, the seamen
disposed of, and all was done for us which care and kind-
ness could perform. Night at length brought quiet and
serious thoughts; and I trust there was not one man
among us who did not ra express where it was due



M4 BOOTHIA FELIX AND THE ESQUIMAUX.

his gratitude for that interposition which had raised as all
from despair, which none could now forget, and had
brought us from the brink of a not distant grave to life,
and friends, and civilization. Long accustomed, however,
to a cold bed, on the hard snow or the bare rock, few
could sleep amid the comfort of our new accommodations.
I was myself compelled to leave the bed which had been
so kindly assigned me, and to take my abode in a chair for,
the night; nor did it fare much better with the rest. It
was for time to reconcile us to this sudden and violent
change—to break through what had become habit, and to
inure us once more to the usages of our former days.”

In October, 1883, the Isabella reached England in safe-
ty, and Captain Ross and his companions, after all their
dangers and hardships, were warmly welcomed home by
their countrymen, who had long given them up for lost,






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THE AMPHITHEATRE OF VERONA.

Mopgan Italy abounds in relics of antiquity—memorials,
more or less entire, of a time when she was mistress of the
world. Now, oppressed by foreign intruders, and degraded
by native superstition, her children seek for consolation by
turning to the glories of their ancestors, and thirst for the
time when their beautiful country may again take her
proper station amidst the nations of Europe. The Roman,
as he treads the ruins of the Forum, listens in fancy to the
eloquence of Cicero; he paces the gigantic round of the
Coliseam, and its now ruined and deserted walls appear,
to his fervid imagination, crowded with the nfyriads eager *
to witness the contests of wild beasts, or the dying strug-
gles of the gladiator.

The lively Neapolitan descends to the buried remains
of Herculaneum and Pompeii, where are brought visibly
before him the domestic manners of his ancestors: he sees
the preparations for the meal that was never tasted ; he
visits the dungeon of the prisoner whose doom was pro-
gounced by no mortal judge; and his aie iar levity is



88 THE AMPHITHEATRE OF VERONA.

for a while sobered by the thought that the fires of Vesu-
vius are yet unquenched, and that his own bright city
may one day shure the fate of those before him, and like
them, after centuries of burial, be restored to the wonder
and curiosity of some later age.

The glory of Verona is its amphitheatre, which is one
of the most striking relics of the grandeur of the ancient
Romans. The time of its erection cannot be accurately
ascertained, as there is no inscription remaining on its
walls to guide the decision of the antiquary; nor has it
been referred to by any classical writer whose works have
descended to us. Except the Coliseum at Rome, it is the
largest existing edifice of the kind, being nearly 1500 feet,
or more than a quarter of a mile in circomference. The
arena, (the level space seen in the cut,) within the benches,
is 249 feet across its longer, and 146 feet across its shorter
diameter ; for, like other buildings of its class, it is not
circular, but elliptic, or oval. From the outer edge of the
arena to the outside walls, is about 200 feet, and it is cal-
culated that the seats which occupy this space would ac-
commodate 22,000 spectators.

The outer wall contained four stories of arches, and
there were seventy-two arches in each story ; of these,
one fragment, containing three stories, of four arches



THE AMPHITHEATRE OF VERONA. 89

each, and rising to the height of 100 feet, is all that
remains—to the top of the fourth story would, no doubt,
have exceeded 120 feet. The modern Veronese have, at
different periods, repaired the interior of the amphitheatre,
and the seats are in tolerable preservation. When the
French, under Napoleon, had possession of Verona, they
erected in the arena a wooden theatre, for the amusement
of the soldiers and citizens ; and this characteristic monu-
ment of French taste still remains. It will be seen that
this amphitheatre is open to the sky. This was the case
in ancient Greece and Italy, with all the buildings intend-
ed for public concourse, and the beautiful climate of those
countries allowed such a practice without material incon-
venience. The games and spectacles of ancient Greece
and Rome were generally more or less of a religious
character, and were accompanied with sacrifices to their
gods. Among these two nations, in the brighter periods
of their history, there was a considerable diffusion of in-
telligence ; and yet, (the art of printing being unknown to
them,) books were a luxury forbidden to all but the few—
the rich, the noble, and the wise. Hence, with a greate:
zest, tho Greeks and Romans of antiquity, with minds
earnest, active, and excitable, crowded in throngs, to
which modern times have few parallels, to all places of



40 THE AMPHITHEATRE OF VERONA.

public resort. The public games were frequented by
every class and every age :—the philosopher went to
lecture and to argue; the demagogue to declaim, the
athlete to exhibit his own prowess; the equestrian that
of his steeds; the magistrate to preside and to appor-
tion the prizes; and all the world to see, to hear, or to
exhibit.

To accommodate crowds so immense, buildings must be
proportionate; and hence, among other causes, were the
skill, the taste, the power, and the riches of ancient
Greece and Rome concentrated to erect and to adorn
edifices, many of which, like the amphitheatre of Verona,
still exist to delight and to astonish succeeding ages.

At the Roman exhibitions was often squandered, in
a few days, the annual revenue of a province, wrang by
some victorious general from the groans and tears of the
conquered, and expended to win the favor of the popu-
lace, and the power which depended on their suffrage.
The drama—races, both on foot, on horseback, and in
chariots—the fights of wild and savage beasts from dis:
tant countries, were among the shows that drew the
immense crowds together; but of all the exhibitions of
the arena, that which most delighted the ancient Italians
was the combat of gladiators. These unhappy men were



THE AMPHITHEATRE OF VERONA 1

mostly prisoners of war, aad were selected for their
strength and courage from ‘all countries overrun by the
Roman armies—from Thrace, from the banks of the
Danube and the Rhine, from the forests of Germany and
Gaul, from the foot of the Pyrenees, and from the burning
soil of Africa. Before the combat, they walked round the
arena, frequently to the number of five hundred at a time,
to allow the spectators to judge of their comparative
strength, stature, and agility; and the perfumed exquisite
and the delicate matron of ancient Italy, equally with the
rough plebeian and the veteran inured to blood in many
a battle, disctssed the merits of each exhibitor—his
chance of victory, and betted on the result with all the
gusto of a modern jockey. Each wretched victim was
bound by solemn oaths, and by the threat of fearful tor-
ments if he violated them, to strive for victory to the ut-
most—either to slay, or to be slain.

A gladiator worsted in the deadly fight, might, beforo
the death-blow descended, appeal for pity to the spee-
tators ; but often, alas, the appeal was vain! If his skill
and prowess had not satisfied his judges, their thumbe,
bent backward, signified that he must die; and his
brother gladiator durst not, for his own life, spare his fail-
en fve—that foe, perhaps, his countryman and his friend.



é THE AMPHITHEATEE OF VERONA

© Jee before me the gladiator lie:
He keane upon bis hand ; his manly brow
Consents te death, but conquers agony,
And his dreep’d bead sinks gradually low:
And threagh bis sides the lest drops ebbing slow
Frees the red gash fall heavy, one by one,
Like the first of a thander-shower; and now
The arena swims around him—he is gone,
TEre ceased the inhuman shout which hail’d the wretch whe wen.

“ He heard it, but be heeded not ; his eyes
‘Were with his heart, and that wes far away.
He reck’d not of the life he lost, nor prize ;
Bat where his rade but by the Danube lay,
There were his young barbarians all at play }—
There wea the Decian mother—he their aire
Bauteher'd, te make a Roman holiday!
All this resh’d with his blood. Shall be expire?
Aad unavenged? Arise, ye Goths, and giot your ire.

To the honor of the ancient Greeks, they steadily re-
fused, from motives of humanity, to imitate their Roman
masters by introducing this barbarous pastime.

Gladiatorial exhibitions were abolished by Constantine
the Great, nearly six hundred years after their first insti-
tution. They were, however, revived under the Emperor
Constantius aad his two successors, but Honorius at



THRE AMPHITHEATRE OF VERONA. “a

tempted, by edict, to put an end to these cruel barbarities.
In spite of this, however, efforts were made in Italy to
restore them to their ancient splendor, when, upon one
occasion, a noble monk, named Telemachus, entered the
arena to seperate the combatants. The spectators, en-
raged at the ipterruption of their favorite pastime, over
whelmed the intrepid monk with a shower of stones.
Hardly was the murder committed, when horror and
remorse seized the perpetrators; the feeling of shame and
repentance spread, and the martyrdom of Telemachus
sealed the condemnation of gladiatorial exhibitions, and
ensured the submission of the people to the imperial
edict, which forever abolished the human sacrifices of the
amphitheatre,



AUSTRALIA, AND THE KANGAROO.

Tus vast island, or rather continent of Australie, differs
from the other portions of the known world in many
important particulare—in its peculiarities of soi), climate,
and geographical features, and in its animal and vegetable
prodactions.

For instance, its largest rivers, instead of widening and
deepening as they flow onward from their source, and
pouring a broader streath into the ocean, gradually di-
minish after leaving the hill country, and finally disappear,
before they reach the const, in chains of pools and vast
tracts of morass, or else diffuse their waters into a broad
but shallow lake, which partly evaporates, and partly
creeps or soaks into the sea by some narrow and insignifi-
cant outlet, choked up with sand. Besides this, many
of the Australian rivers, as well as the inland lakes, are
as salt as the ocean itself.

In most other countries we find that well-watered and
fertile districts abound in the plains, and that desolation
and marily are associated with high lands, mountains,










AUSTRALIA, AND THE KANGAROO. 47

and rocks. In Australia the reverse of all this holds good.
The mountain districts, and the terraces at their feet, by
which the traveller sinks into the dead level country, are
fertile, well watered, and picturesque, abounding with
vegetable productions of a peculiar character, quite dis-
tinct from those of our hemisphere, and enlivened by birds
of brilliant plumage.

On the other hand, the plains, which are of immense
extent, and with an horizon: as unvaried ‘as that of the
wide ocean, are, for the most part, alternately arid deserts
or impassable swamps, and in either case are dreary and
desolate. During the long droughts, which periodically
prevail in Australia, théy are a dry waste, where “the
dust groweth into hardness, and the clods cleave fast to-
gether ;” hardly a bird is seen, and the vegetable kingdom
is almost annihilated; the beds of the exhausted rivers
are crusted with salt, and on the dusty banks wither in
heaps the parched stems of the dead marsh-plants.

After the wet season, which follows the years of drought,
the same district generally becomes an almost impassable
bog, full of water-holes, or else an immense inland sea, in
which stand rotting the bare trunks of full-grown trees.
A few months afterwards, and this inland sea will probably
have become a grassy plain.



#@ AUSTRALIA, AND THE KANGAROO.

Australia, in fact, appears to be really new land—not
merely new to us, but of much more recent formation
than oor northern continents, and to be undergoing at
this very time a state. of transition, in which, by means
at first-sight inadequate to work such mighty changes,
this country is becoming gradually but surely fitted, more
and more, for the abode of man; and we may anticipate
the time when its now barren plains will produce food and
sustenance for nations as numerous as those which crowd
the most populous districts of Europe or Asia.

“ Known unto God are all His works, from the founda-
tion of the world ;” and may not we, his rational creatures,
take glimpses of the wonderful working of His creative
power, atill in active exercise upon the earth? May we
not, without presumption, speculate on the benevolent pro-
visions of that all-seeing wisdom, by the operation of
which, through ages from the earliest dawn of time until
now, this beautiful and glorious earth has been prepared,
and is yet preparing, for the reception of His creatures—
fitted more and more to minister to their production, their
sustenance, and their delight?

It would appear, then, that at a period comparatively
recent, (recent, that is, contrasted with the time when the
other continents took their present general aspect,) the



AUSTRALIA, AND THE KANGAROO. #@

vast level plains in the interior of Australia have been
raised above the surface of the ocean :—that its mougtains
and elevated terraces were then islands, similar in charac-
ter to those fair gems of earth which are so profusely scat-
tered over the Pacific; and that its rivers were at that
time island mountain torrents, each of which once found 6
short and rapid passage to the ocean, but which now,
when once they have left the falling country, wind their
sluggish and uncertain course amidst the dead levels of
the newly-raised land, and, as before observed, lose them-
selves in pools and marshes. But year by year, and cen-
tury after century, these streams are wearing for them-
selves a deeper and more continuous channel to the coast,
(whose barrier of coral rocks is the wondrous work of
myriads of minute sub-marine animals.) And the time
may, with great probability, be anticipated, when mighty
rivers—the Lachlan and the Macquarie, the Darling, the
Morrumbidgee, and the Marray, with their numerous trib-
ataries, all now detached and broken, will form a mag-
nificent assemblage of connected rivers, opening up to the
ocean upwards of 4000 miles of inland navigation, in
southern and eastern Australia, and watering an extent
of country of not less than 40,000 square miles. And, in
os ann Sis, Fa COMA Aang ee cooee ce tee ee



30 AUSTRALIA, AND THE KANGAROO.

years, the land, hitherto a waste, barren as the sea-shore,
is becoming covered by the rich alluvial deposits, brought
by the floods from the mountain ranges. And again—
how the very destraction of vegetable life, consequent on
the long-continued droughts, provides layers of nutriment
for fature generations of plants of a superior class, and
suitable for the countless flocks and herds which accom-
pany man and minister to his wants.

With one exception, all the trees of Australia are ever-
greens, and from the smoked color of their leaves, they
give a somewhat gloomy appearance to the scenery of its
forests, which, however, are seldom dense assemblages of
countless trees, like the primeval woods of our continent
and America, but are scattered over the country in distinct
clumps and patches, giving a park-like appearance to the
landscape.

Not less peculiar, in formation and character, is the
zoology of Australia. With some of its more remarkable
animals—as the emu among the birds and the kangaroo
among the quadrupeds—most of my readers will be toler-
ably familiar. The emu is the Australian ostrich—does
not fly, bat rans swiftly, and kicks out at its pursuers like
a horse, and with almost equal force.

The kangaroo is the largest native quadruped, and has



AUSTRALIA, AND THE KANGAROO. 61

been for some years domesticated in English parks and
zoological collections. There are three or four varieties
of this animal, the largest of which (represented in the
cat) is frequently six feet in height, and eqaal in weight
toacalf. Its character is gentle and timid, and, in many
respects, resembles that of the deer, but with less intelli-
gence. It feeds on all-fours, but at other times stands
erect upon its hind legs, and is supported also by its long
and powerful tail. When disturbed or pursued, it darts
off in a succession of flying leaps, which give a herd of
them a most ludicrous appearance. Its, short fore paws
are strong, and adapted for digging, and when hard
pressed by dog or man, the animal has been known to
turn, and with them seize its enemy, and rip him up with
one stroke of its powerful hind leg, which is armed with
two sharp claws of great size and strength. But the great
peculiarity of this, and some other animals of Australia, is
the abdominal pouch, to which its young, for some time
after they can walk, constantly retarn on the approach of
danger; and though thus burdened, the female kangaroo
will leap away with amazing swiftness.

Another most singular creature is the ornithoryncus, or
duck-billed platypus, an animal which, to the thickly-
furred body and burrowing habits of the mole, unites the



52 AUSTRALIA, AND THE KANGAROO.

feet and bill of a duck, and the internal structure of a
reptile. It is extremely shy, so that its habits are yet but
little known, and naturalists have hardly yet determined
whether or not its young are produced from eggs. Had a
staffed specimen of this singular animal been first pro
duced only at the exhibition of some travelling showman
of doubtful character, it would probably have been con-
sidered as fictitious as the mermaid, so often exhibited, and
which was formed of the fore part of a monkey, sewn upon
the tail of a shark.











ROPE BRIDGES—INDIA.

Tue engineers of this country are suppqsed to have
derived their ideas of supension-bridges from the rope bridges
of India, where in the mountainous districts they were in
use long before we became masters of the country. Turner,
in his account of the Alpine region to the north-east of
Hindustan, thus describes their structure over chasms;
“ Two ropes, commonly of rattan, or some stout and flexible
osier, are stretched from one mountain to another, and
encircled by a hoop of the same material. The passenger
places himeelf between them, sitting in the hoop, and
seizing a rope in each hand, slides himself along with
facility and speed over the tremendous abyss below.”

Our plate represents a bridge of this primitive order, the
crossing of which is sometimes attended with danger, from
the unwise traveller overloading himself with goods, #0 that
under the accumulated weight the rope eometimes breake,
and precipitates the individual headlong into the rushing
stream beneath. ‘i



66 ROPE BRIDGES—INDIA.

Wherever our engineers acquired the idea of a suspen
sion-bridge, either the magnificent fabric that crosses the
Menai Strait, or the light and elegant structure of tho
Hungerford Bridge, furnishes sufficient proof that they have
much advanced on the pattern, both as regards elegance
of appearance and safety in use. Indeed from the accounts
which travellers give, it must require no little nerve to trust
oues-self to the rickety things of rope that croea some of the
rivers in India. In the tour which Mr. Fraser took through
part of the snowy range of the Himalayan mountains, we
find him compelled to pass over one of these bridges, of
which he gives the following account :—

* At some convenient spot, where the river is rather
narrow, and the rocks on cither side overhang the stream, a
stout beam of wood is fixed horizontally upon or behind two
strong stakes, that are driven into the banks on each side
of the water, and round these beams ropes are strained,
extending from the one to the other across the river, and
they are hauled tight and kept in their place by a sort of
wiodlass. The rope used in forming the bridge is generally
from two to three inches in circumference, and at least nine
or ten times crossed, to make it secure. This collection of
ropes is traversed by a block of wood, hollowed into a
semicircular groove, large enough to slide easily along it;
and around thiv block, ropes are suspended, forming a loop



ROPE BRIDGES—INDLA $7

in which passengers seat themeolves, clasping its upper
parts with their hands, to keep themselves steady; a line
fixed to the wooden block at each end, and extending to
each bank, serves to haul it and the passenger attached to
it from one side of the river to the other. The j’hoola (as
the bridge is called) at Rhampore was somewhat formidable,
for the river tumbles beneath in a very awful way; and the
ropes, though they decline in the centre to the water, are
siill elevated from thirty to forty feet above it: tho span is
from ninety toa hundred yards. It was amusing enough
to see several of our low country attendants arming them-
sclves with courage to venture on this novel mode of transit;
and I must confess that, although it was evident that the
actual danger was emall, it was not without uncomfortable
feelings that I first launched out on the machine to cross
the Sutlej. We found, however, that accidents sometimes
occur; and it was scarcely twelve months since a Brahmin,
who had come from Cooloo, having loaded the ropes with
too great a weight of his goods, and accompanied them
himself, fell into the stream, was hurried away and dashed
to pieces.”

Occasionally a series of ropes are laid down, and cross
pieces of wood interwoven with them, constituting a plat-
form five or six feet wide; on either side of thie platform a
emall parapet of plankw is erected, and also fastened by.



68 ROPE BRIDGRS—INDIA

means of ropes. Even this kind of bridge is not safe, the
vibration being 80 great as to startle and terrify the most
quiet horse. When it is considered that the motion of the
bridge over the Menai Strait is very perceptible, even to a
single foot-passenger, though the weight of the structure is
somewhat more than six hundred and forty-three tons, it
will not excite surprise that the vibration of these frail rope
bridges approaches almost to violent agitation. A gentle-
man famous for his pursuit of field-eporte in India, describes
hie passage over one of them as most perilous. It hung
across the river like a cobweb in the air, and at a distance
bed a pretty and picturesque effect. When he came to
venture upon it, he found it very rickety; and wisely
determined to dismount before crossing it. Still it rocked
and vibrated in a manner that wae far from agreeable;
and his pony, though a mountaineer, crouched and shud-
dered as if he would lie down upon the bridge. An instance
is on record of an officer and a lady crossing one of these
bridges, and as a drove of cattle had passed just before,
they ventured upon it without any hesitation. They just
reached the centre when it suddenly gave way, and they
both were precipitated into the gulf below. The officer used
every effort to save his companion, but ia vain; with the
greatest difficulty he managed to save himeelf. She was
for @ moment seen on a rock in the channel, when a swell



ROPE BRIDGES—INDIA. Su

of the current ewept her away for ever. Such instances
are not of common occurrence, and the oatives pass and
repase daily on these seemingly unsafe fabrica, without any

apparent fear.



LONDON, PAST AND PRESENT.

How can we give an idea of London to one who has
never visited it, when some even of those who have spent
their lives in wandering amid its wilderness of houses have
never seen one half of its extent, and have still less know!l-
edge of its wealth, its commerce, and its population? An
intelligent Frenchman said very truly, “ It is not a town;
it is a province covered with houses.”

Before the era of railways, it used to grow by degrees
upon the country visitor as he approached its more con-
centrated masses of streets and houses, and his notions of
the great city had time to accommodate themselves grad-
ually to the real state of things. As he rolled along the
turnpike-road outside some well-appointed “four-horse
coach,” he saw before him for half a day before he had
reached his destination, a long, low, dingy cloud in the
distant horizon, which the coachman’s whip would point out
as “London smoke.” There it hung; visible, while yet he
was apens breezy commons of heath and furze, or under





Ancient mode of Lighting London.






LONDON, PAST AND PRESENT Co

waving boughs that shadowed the dasty road. As he
rolled along,—instead of detached villages or well-defined
towns, separated by long intervals of field, and common, and
copee, enlivened here and there with the detached farm-
houses, barns, and road-side inns, the country gentle-
man’s mansion, and the gipsy’s tent—the road became
all village, one joining on to another in quick succession,
sadly taxing the memory of the bewildered traveller, who
had hitherto asked most perseveringly the name of each
town he had pafsed through. He seemed, for the first
time, to be in two places at once—in one locality before
he was out of another.

On he rolled, and the continuous village became a
town; the road gradually concentrated into a street, and
his “long coach,” with its fleet four-in-hand, (the pro-
prietor’s “crack team,” to drive through London with,)
threaded its mazy way amidst shoals of-strange and ra-
rious vehiclea, and looked superior to them all. There
were the lambering omnibus, the busy scrambling cab, the
elegant carriage, with splendid hammer-cloth and be-
wigged and liveried coachmen and flunkies—gigs, phae-
tons, and market-carts, drays, vans, and wagons of all
shapes and dimensions, and still the confusion grew more
dissy and confounding, till a jarring crash upon the



toy LONDON, PAST AND PRESENT.

paved street aroused the bewildered traveller, and told him
that he had at length reached the stony heart of London.
Bat, alas! with few and rare exceptions, “we have
changed all that” for the railway and the steam-engine.
Onward, onward. still we press, faster and faster yet.
But now, and the varied sights of rural life were flitting
by us in quick succession, ench no sooner glanced at than
it is gone; a moment more, and in its place, as by some
magic process, there is the glare of shops, the rattle of
wheels, the busy hum of myriads of Haman beings—the
ceaseless roar of the mightiest city of the earth !

Hill and dale, hedge-row and heath, the cottage with
roses, the meadow and its quiet herd, “ forty feeding like
one,” the shepherd and his flock, the mansion in stately
solitude, with all its tall and ancestral trees, all these, and
more, were before the traveller a.moment since, and seem
before him still, mingling in strange confusion with the
Great Babel into which he is so suddenly planged, while,
confused by the abrupt contrast of sights and sounds
which greet him, he gazes with blank amaze on all
around, scarce knowing what he sees or what he hears.

London was an important city—the capital of England
—a thousand years ago; and it has been growing, and
spreading. and condensing,.almost without a check, from



LONDON, PAST AND PRESENT. 65

that day to this. Growing for a thousand years, and
growing still, faster than ever! Still creeping along the
banks of that noble river, to the depth and security of
whose waters the city owes its rise, its increase, and its
prosperity.

The marsh through which Cesar und his legions waded
has long given place to the busy wharf, with its piles of
merchandise from every clime, its huge masees of ware-
houses, dark and lofty, beneath whose shadow crowd the
barge and the steamboat. The streams to which Saxon
maidens were wont to resort “to gather simples,” now
grope, their subterranean way beneath halls devoted to
trade and commerce, and the administration of justice;
the resort of the merchant-princes of England ; the sanc-
tuary for the vast treasures of the Bank of England, and
its numerous satellites of Lombard-street ; and the palace
of the chief magistrate of England’s and the world’s chief
city. The forest, where once ranged the wild boar, the
wolf, and the antlered stag, has given place to the picture-
gallery and the triumphal column ; to the square, the ter-
race, and the crescent, with their luxurious mansions,
tenanted by nobles and senators ; to long vistas of streets
in endless succession, dazzling with wealth and splendor
unknown to Rome or Babylon of old.



66 LONDON, PAST AND PRESENT.

Nearly a thousand years ago (in a. p. 685) London, .
which had been -sacked and burned by the Danes, was
being rebuilt by King Alfred, whose galleys rode, un-
checked by a single bridge, along the Thames, when now
his waters reflect many an arch of granite of iron, above
whose crown ebbs and flows a tide as ceaseless as that
which glides beneath its shadow.

For nearly two hundred years after the time of Alfred,
Saxon and Dane struggled for the realm of England, with
various success. But amid the fierce conflicts London
still grew on, and when King Harold (in 1066) passed
through the city on his hurried march to the fatal field of
Hastings, he dispatched from London seven hundred
vessels to intercept the Norman invaders in the flight so
fondly and so vainly anticipated by the too confiding
Saxons. And when Duke William, after his great vic-
tory, appeared before the city, the warlike population,
numerous even then, defended the walls; and the con-
queror, compelled to abandon his idea of obtaining instant
possession of the capital, ravaged the surrounding country,
intercepted the communication with the Saxons of the
north, and® cut off the supplies, until the citizens,
threatened with the horrors of famine, and discour-
aged by the supineness and incapacity of the Saxon



LONDON, PAST AND PRESENT 67

earis and thanes, made terms with William, at Berkhamp-
stead.

Passing by another two hundred years—through the
horrible oppressions of the early Norman kings, the de-
vastating wars of Stephen and Matilda, and the Crusades
—we come to the era of Magna Charta; and find a par-
liament at Westminster struggling with the weak and un-
popular Henry IIl., the king promising redress of griev-
anc 3s in hopes of obtaining supplies, and the parliament
withbolding, until they have some better security than the
word of a king, which had been so often violated. Once,
in his need, he was counselled to sell all his plate and
jewels. “Who will buy them?” said he. “The citizens
of London, of course,” was the reply. “By my troth,”
said Henry, bitterly, “if the treasures of Augustus’ were
put up to sale, the citizens would be the purchasers!
These clowns, who assume the style of barons, abound in
all things, while we are wanting common necessaries.”
From this time the king was more than ever inimical to
the city, and to injure its commerce, (then amid wars, and
plunder, and oppression—as now in peace and security—
the source of all its wealth,) Henry established a fair at
Westminster, which was to last fifteen days, daring which
all trading was prohibited in London. What is now



6s LONDON, PAST AND PRESENT.

Charing Cross was then a village in the fields, midway
between the rival cities, which have long since mingled
into one.

In 1218 the forest of Middlesex was cleared, and the
citizens of London were allowed to build there. The
Tower and old London Bridge in the east, and West-
minster Abbey in the west, were the principal buildings of
this era which have existed till owr day.

Through the next two hundred years the wealth wd
trade of London continued steadily to increase. [he
citizens obtained from the mighty Plantagenets privileges
and rights,in exchange for the loans by which only those
warlike sovereigns were enabled to carry on their con-
quests in France; and amidst the brilliant but useless
glories of Cregy, and Poitiers, and Agincourt, London
carried on a profitable and increasing trade with Flanders
—with the extensive and fertile provinces in southern and
western France, which owned allegiance to the English
crowo—with Spain ond the Mediterranean. southward—
and as far northward as the Baltic. The civil wars of the
Roses, like the foreign ones with France, gave but little
interruption to the progress of London, which generally
supported the House of York; the princes of which
family relied less on the power of the barons than on that



LONDON, PAST AND PRESENT. 00

of the commons, whose favor they courted, and whose
privileges they increased and confirmed on many occasions.

Lanterns were first hung out of citizens’ houses in the
principal streets in 1416; before, and even after that time,
watchmen with fire-baskets, such as are represented in
the cat, kept watch through the night before the houses
of the nobility and at other important stations.

Year after year rolled on; wooden houses were replaced
by those of brick; old streets were paved and widened,
. aud new streets stretched into the fields in every direc-
tion; wharves and warehouses were built by the river
side; churches and palaces arose in every quarter; the
population rapidly increased; and two or three hundred
years ago, when London was not half its present size, suc-
cessive sovereigns issued proclamations and edicts, for-
bidding any further increase to a city, which was even
then thought to have extended beyond all bounds of rea-
son and safety.

In the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries the improve-
ments and increase continued. The Royal Exchange was
built; the new river supplied individual houses in the
metropolis with water; sewers were dug; and hackney-
coaches plied the streets for hire. The great plague,
speedily followed by the great fire of London in 1666,



70 LONDON, PAST AND PRESENT.

checked the progress of the city, but only to enable it to
advance more rapidly and more sately. The latter event,.
whioh destroyed all the most densely-built portions of the
metropolis, enabled Sir Christopher Wren, although he
was not allowed to carry out his plan of improvement to
the desired extent, to change its appearance and charac-
ter—by wider streets, better built houses, and more com-
plete draining. In consequence of these improvements,
the health of the inhabitants was greatly promoted. The
plague, which until then had constantly lurked about the
back streets and narrow lanes by the water's side, and
which on particular occasions burst out with depopulating
violence, was no longer a recognised visitor; and the
virulence of other diseases was much abated.
Nevertheless, great as was this advance, the contrast
between the London of a hundred years ago and the
London of the present day is as great. The fathers of
many now living, could remember seeing the heads of the
Scotch lords, who had risen in arms for the Stuarts, rotting
on Temple-bar, telling a disgraceful tale of barbarous
and pitifal revenge, unworthy of a Christian government
and people. The dim oil lamps, which just rendered
visible the darkness of night, winked at many a deed of
violence and outrage, which the broad glare of the gas



LONDON, PAST AND PRESENT. 71

lights (first used in Pall Mall, in 1816) has scared away.
Within the last fifty years have been formed the docks and
their surrounding warehouses, which now line the river
for six miles below London Bridge, and afford accommo-
dation for vessels of the largest size; the hage Indiaman
from either hemisphere, with suger, cotton, tea, silk,
spices, &c.; the splendidly fitted American packets;
the wool-ships of Australia; the whalers from Green-
land and the Antarctic; timber ships from Canada and
the Baltic; mixed fleets of smaller vessels from every
coast.

Fifty years ago, and the power of steam to propel
vessels in spite of wind and tide, was treated as a chimera
too absurd for experiment; and now hundreds of steamers,
of every size, with their black chimneys and long streams
of smoke, wend their swift way along old Father Thames,
churning his waters, and raising on bis bosom a mimic
sea, whose heaving wave bids dance the light wherry as
it skims along, meets the cumbrous barge with alternate
heave and plunge, and dashes in foam against the tiers of
merchantmen fast anchored in the stream. Still more
recently the railroad, with all its wonders, stretches from
the city in every direction, and encloses a wider and yet
wider circuit of provinces in its embrace, uatil it bids the



73 LONDON, PAST AND PRESENT.

remotest corner of the isle give quick response to every
pulsation of the “mighty heart” of London.

The population of the metropolis, (including by that
term the cities of London and Westminster, the five par-
liamentary boroughs, and the parish of Chelsea,) is now
nearly two millions, equal to the united population of the
four largest cities on the continent of Europe; namely,
Paris, Petersburg, Naples, and Vienna; and of these five
Paris has nearly double the number of inhabitants of the
largest of the remainder, containing 910,000, while Peters-
burg has 470,000, Vienna and Naples each about 350,000
ipbabitants.

The immense population of the capital of the British
empire consumes every year at least 1,200,000 quarters of
wheat, about 1} million of sheep, nearly 200,000 bullocks,
25,000 calves, 25,000 pigs; besides poultry, game, fish,
vegetables, and fruit in incalculable quantities. About
12,000 cows supply the citizens daily with milk ; 72 mil-
lions of gallons of porter and ale are annually drunk in
London ; half the newspapers in the United Kingdom are
printed there. The eight great water-companies supply
about 200,000 houses with nearly 250 millions of gallons
of water yearly. About 90,000 gas lights are nightly lit,
and consume on the average 10 millions of cubic feet of



LONDON, PAST AND PRESENT. 78

gas every twenty-four hours. But we might fill a volame
with mere glimpses of this wonderful city—such volumes
exist—and yct before a visitor can form an adequate idea
of its size and its population, its abounding wealth and
its squalid poverty, its contrasts of magnificence and
wretchedness, he must have persevered day after day in
exploring its various quarters, mixed with all classes of
society, inspected its hospitals and its mansions, its picture-
galleries and its temples, its docks and its bridges, its dark
corners of crime and misery, its splendid exhibitions of
wealth and taste; and if he have a heart to feel and a
head to think, he will go to his rural home with food for
meditation for many days, a wiser, and, if he improve his
opportunities, a better man.



A WARROW VILLAGE—GUIANA.

In the northwest of South America, between the great
rivers Oronoco and Amazon, is the Warrow country—a
land, in some respects, similar to that of Ashantee, de-
scribed in another chapter. The vegetation is equally
luxuriant, but the climate is less deadly ; the inhabitants
have not the wild and savage energy of the Ashantees,
but having all the necessaries of life at hand, without the
need of cultivating the soil, they indulge in a luxurious
indolence, which is equally unfavorable to their advance-
ment in civilization.

A considerable portion of the country is under water
for three-fourths of the year, and from this circumstance
the Warrows are almost amphibious. They build their
habitations about four feet from the ground, upon the
stems of eta-trees, which grow in very thick clusters.
Many of these huts are very large, being capable of ac-
commodating one hundred and fifty people, who are all
slung aa _bamuooks, which serve them both for bed and



A WARROW VILLAGE, GUIANA 75

chair, and are, in fact, almost the only farniture they use
or require. At night, a fire made close to the hammock,
envelops it in smoke, which keeps off the swarms of
moschetoes and sand-flies that infest this land of mud,
and slime, and water, and overhanging boughs; and in
this cleud the Warrow, from long use, luxuriates where
we should be more than half blinded and suffocated.

The waters flowing beneath and around the floor of
their abodes abound with fish, which forms the chief food
of the people, almost all of whose industry and ingenuity
are displayed in the construction of their canoes, and the
singular abodes we have described.



THE AFRICAN KING.

Waarever authority this king may have over his people
certainly does not appear to be derived from the splendor
of his apparel. Crown he has none, save the one taft of
hair left upon his else bare scalp ;—the spear on which he
leans is his only sceptre, and one cannot imagine a sover-
eign with bare legs and naked feet bestowing upon any
of his subjects the insignia of the order of the garter.
Wevertheless he may be every inch a king, and as such he
nay be introduced to the reader. This is Moselekatse,
King of the Amazooloo, and first made known to English-
men by Captain Harris, in a most interesting book of
Travels in Southern Africa.

Moselekatse possessed a fine, tall, well-proportioned
figure, with rather a pleasing countenance, although
marked with wily cunning and suspicion ; with a small
piercing eye, surmounted by an ample forehead. He
certainly looks like one whose courage and energy mark
him oe a king among the men of a wild and savage










THE AFRICAN KING. 72

race ; prompt, stern, and unyielding, his orders are such
as ensure swift obedience ; cautious and slow in speech,
but rapid and fiery in action; reserved in manner and
dignified in aspect. Such are the men who, in the early
and ruder stages of society, place themselves at the head
of their people, and by their rugged virtues, and even by
the peculiar character of their vices, help forward that
onward movement of the human race, which, in spite of
“many checks and hinderances, of many temporary and
partial backslidings, is yet real all the world over. To
use Macaulay’s noble image,—“ the tide of civilization is
advancing, though each single wave may retreat as jt
breaks upon the shore.” But to return to Moselekatse.
His costume is a simple girdle, made of leopards’ tails,
dangling before and behind ; a few beads round his neck
complete his toilet. Captain Harris presented the king
with a duffel greatcoat, a coil of brass wire, a mirror
two.pounds of “Irish blackguard” snuff, and fifty pounds
weight of blood red beads. “Hitherto the king had con-
sidered it beneath his dignity to evince the slightest symp-
tom of astonishment. His maffner had been particularly
guarded and sedate, nor had it been possible to read in
his countenance aught that was passing in his bosom;
but the sight of so many fine things at once threw his



80 THE AFRICAN KING.

decorum off the balance, and caused him for a moment
to forget what he owed to himself in the presence of so
large an assembly. Putting his thumb between his teeth,
and opening his eyes to their utmost limits, he grinned
like a school-boy at the sight of gingerbread, and ex-
claimed repeatedly, ‘ Monante, monante, monante : tanta,
tanta, tanta!’ (Good, good, good; bravo, bravo, bra
vo !)

“He now rose abruptly, big with some great conception,
and made signs to the parsee to approach and assist him
on with the coat, habited in which he strutted several
times up and down, viewing his grotesque figare in the
glass with evident self-applause. He then desired Mo-
hanycour to put it on and turn about, that he might see
if it fitted behind: and this knotty point settled to his un-
qualified satisfaction, he suddenly cast off his leopards’
tails, and commanded all hands to assist in the difficult
task of shaking him into tartan trousers. It was indeed
.no easy work to perform ; ‘but once accomplished, his ma-
jesty cut a noble figure. The parsee wore a pair of red
silk braces which he presehtly demanded, observing that
they would supply the place of those which Mrs. Moffutt
had forgotten to send. Shortly after this he directed an
attendant, who was crouching at his feet, to take every



THE AFRICAN KING. 81

thing to his kraal, and sesuming his solemnity and his
seat, tea was brought in.”

Thus far Captain Harris; and yet this man, at whose
simplicity and ignorance our very children might laugh,
has authority greater than that of any European despot.
He alone in his kingdom is rich ; his subjects are all equal-
ly poor; the whole wealth of the state centres in him ;
he has the power of life and death; und all that his peo-
ple have to do is to submit to his decrees.

It is well for the sovereign, and well also for the sub-
jects, wagn by a nation’s advancement in civilization its
rulers need no longer be exposed to the temptations and
responsibilities of unlimited power—when the well-being
of society depends less upon the character and energy of
an individual ruler, than upon the general advancement
of his people in virtue and knowledge.



THE LAND’S END, AND THE CORNISH WRECKERS.

“ Where England, stretch’d towards the eetting ean,
Narrow and long, o’erlooks the western wave.”

Coaywatt is the most western county of England, and
at the extreme point of Cornwall, “stretched,” as the poet
says, “ towards the setting sun,” is the long, rocky promon-
tury, known as the Land’s End. Here the bilfOws of the
Atlantic, rolling over an abyss, unchecked by rock or shoal,
for three thousand miles, first meet a barrier, against which
they dash tumultuously; whilst their spray, borne on the
wings of the swift western gale, flies far inland, covering
all things with its salt rime. The cliffs at the Land’s
End, like those at Staffa and the Giant’s Causeway,
abound, though not to the same extent or perfection, with
basaltic columns, which are sbout sixty feet in height.
On the Long Ships’ Rocks, about a mile from the main-
land, is crected a lighthouse, with a fixed light, which is
elevated about ninety feet above high-water mark, and
gives Henny warning to vessels sailing along these dan-










THE LAND’S END, 66

gerous coasts. The people of Cornwall had once a most
unenviable reputation for their barbarous inhospitality
towards those who were so unfortunate as to be wrecked
on their shores. Strange as it may seem, the cry of “A
wreck! a wreck !” was hailed with joy by all, from the
highest to the lowest, who ficcked to the beach at the
welcome news, and plundered, without the least regard to
the rights of the shipwrecked, all that was thrown on
shore by the waves. This inhospitable robbery was too
often accompanied by murder, provoked, perhaps, in some
instances, by the expostulations or struggles of the sur-
vivors of the ship, to retain what they most reason@bly
looked upon as their own property. Meanwhile, the
Cornish men, calling the wreck “a God-send,” looked
upon all goods stranded upon their coast as their especial
property, bestowed upon them by the direct interposition
of Providence, and were ready to resent as an insult any
opposition to their claim. Many are the tales told—fre-
quently mingling the horrible and the ludicrous—of scenes
at a shipwreck on the coast of Cornwall. Of these, some
may have been exaggerated, but they had doubtless some
foundation in the general state of public opinion in the
country upon this subject. Witness Peter Pindar’s story
of the minister, who was preaching on the sabbath, when



86 AND THE CORNISH WRECKERS.

the cry of “A wreck! a wreck I” was heard without the
church. The congregation, as by an uncontrcllable im-
pulse, rose hastily, and rushed towards the door, to share
in the expected spoil. The minister in vain endeavored
to restrain them, till, finding all efforts vain, he too yielded
to the all-besetting sin, and, in the words of the witty, but
irreverend poet,

“ Stop, stop!” cried he, “at least one prayer—
Let me get down, and all start fair!”

And yet, on other occasions, the Cornish people were
by no means wanting in hospitality to strangers, and the
exercise of all the kindly, social virtues. The same men
who would appropriate, without regard to the rights or
expostulations of the owners, all property strewn upon the
beach, would welcome the bewildered traveller to his
home at night, bring out his best glass of “yell,” give up,
his own bed to the stranger, and guide him on his way
over the moor, with kindly warning of the numerous shafts
and pitfalls that beset this land of mines.

It is to be hoped, however, that the “ wreckers of Corn-
wall” are a by-gone race—that the opprobrium no longer
clings to their name. The exertions of the Wesleyan
ministers, and the diffusion of education and habits of



THE LAND’ UND, a7

reading, have done much to humanize the Cornish charac
ter; the peculiar feature of which might, perhaps, be ex-
plained, and in part excused, by reference to history.

in the dark night of ignorance, cruelty, and wrong.
which settled over Europe upon the downfall of the Romun
empire, trade and commerce were almost annihilated.
No longer did the peaceful mariner from Spain or the
Mediterranean visit the bays of Cornwall, to exchange the
food and clothing of the south for the tredsures of the earth
—tin, and copper, and silver ore. The dreaded sea-kings
rode triumphant on every sea, and scourged, with rapine
and plunder, all the coasts of Europe. At this period
Cornwall was crowded with descendants of the ancient
Britons; who, after long and obstinate contests, were
driven, by the successive hordes of the conquering Saxons,
from the eastern and central portions of the island, and
found refuge in the fastnesses of Wales, Cumberland, and
Cornwall. The Saxons, and their kindred successors, the
Danes, were accustomed, in their slight galleys, to sail up
the creeks and rivers; and when the force opposed to
their inroad, or the uninviting aspect of the country,
forbade a permanent settlement, they ravaged the district
with fire and sword, and regained their ships, laden with
all the spoil they could carry away. The Celts of Corn-



68 AND THE CORNISH WRECKERS.

wall, cooped up in their narrow boundaries, which, at the
same time, concentrated their forces, and enabled them,
like their Welch brethren, to retain their distinct national
existence as Britons throughout the times of Saxon rule,
soon had too good cause to look upon every sea-borne
vessel as a cruel enemy, whose approach was to be
opposed, and whose destruction was to be sought by all
good patriots; and if, by any chance, one of the Saxon
or Danish galleys was wrecked on their coast, it was
naturally looked upon as but a righteous retribution for
the oppressions they and their brethren had endured, and
its plunder as but a slight return for treasures they them-
selves had been despoiled of. And for ages after circum-
stances had changed, and when a happier era began
to dawn, a blind and cruel selfishness, choking all the
kinder, gentler feelings, kept alive in this remote corner
of our isle a practice which originated in national hostili-
ty ; and that which began in the resistance of a people to
oppression and a reprisal for outrage, degenerated into
private and indiscriminate plunder, too often aggravated
»y cold-blooded treachery and murder; making our west-
ern shores a by-word and an opprobium to all the world.
And, as if it were not enough to rob the poor mariner,
whom the winds and waves have thrown upon their ahores,



THE LANDS END, 0

there were to be found in Cornwall wretches base enough
to mislead, by false signal-lights, vessele that approached
the coast by night, and lure them, and all their crew, upon
the rocks.

Long ago I heard a Cornish tale, which, once heard,
is not easily forgotten. After a sultry autamn day, the
blood-red sun sunk beneath a sea of crimson, which grada-
ally deepened into molten lead; and, as the daylight
faded, a dark bank of clouds rose in the west, and blotted
out star after star, almost ere it had twinkled through the
twilight. An old man, whose dwelling was on the sea-
shore, beneath the cliffs, looked out upon the darkening
face of the sea, with an eager, anxious glance, that swept
the horizon. There had not been a breath of air stirring
all day; but now, low moanings foretold a rising gale,
and the lightning, distant as yet, and voiceless, glim-
mered through the dark caverns of thick cloud, which
overspread the sky, and deepened, by momentary con-
trast, the solemn blackness of the night. Fur seaward,
a faint strip of dull red sky in the horizon revealed the
tall masts of a gallant ship, which had been all day slowly
working her tedious way up the Channel on her homeward
course. The old man had watched her for many hours
before sunset, and he chuckled as he saw, ere the !ast dim



90 AND THE CORNISH WRECKERS.

line of western light had faded, that she was gradually
nearing the coast; and he noticed, with horrid glee, the
threatenings of the coming storm. He called to his old
wife for his lantern, went to a crazy and ruinous shed, and
led out a half-starved horse, which he led by the halter
along the beach. At a ravine in the cliffs he turned with
his horse, and began to ascend a winding and dangerous
path’ to the top of the precipice. There he lighted his lan-
tern and fastened it to the horse’s head, and then, for
three or four hours of the night, he led the unconscious
animal backward and forward along the edge of the
cliffs. By this time the lightning flashed frequent and
fierce ; the thunder rolled and rattled directly overhead ;
the rain poured down like a flood; and the sea, which all
day had heaved sluggishly, and heavily broke upon the
rocks, was now roused into fury by the rising gale which
swept along its bosom. Still the old man pursued his
walk along the cliffs, and ever and anon looked keenly
and anxiously through the darkness upon the now raging
sea beneath. Hark !—surely that thunder came not from
the clouds—that flash was no lightning’s stroke. It is—
yes—it is the cannon of the fated ship, the well-known
signal of distress; and the old man’s fiendish nature re-
joiced at the thought that his decoy-light had answered



“THE LAND’S END, 91

ite object. Again and again that sound boomed along
the waters; for all too late the mariners discover that
they are embayed; that rocks and breakers are round
them, and the gale is driving them quickly to the shore ;
that the false light, which had appeared to them as
that of a tall ship tossing on the sea, was displayed
to lure them to destruction. Again and again the guh is
fired, and still the’ old man rejoices in the success of his
horrid stratagem, and calculates, with horrid accuracy,
the spot and the moment for the fated vessel striking
on the rocks. As the time approaches, he descends the
cliffs, and takes his station on the beach to watch for
whatever the raging waves may cast on shore. And soon
there is heard-a crash, louder than the strife of elements
—a shriek, far above the roar of waters—but sil the
wrecker shrinks not from the horrors of his own dark
deed, yet shrouded by the tempest and the night. Day
Aawns at length, and shows to his greedy eyes the beach
strewn with fragments of the wreck, which the yet heaving
billows are still bearing shoreward and dashing on the
rocks. Presently, the old man .is bending over the body
of a drowned man; for his avaricious glance has detected
on the finger of the dead a gold ring, with a bright gem
glittering in the early dawn. Hastily and eagerly the



2 AND THE CORNISH WRECKERS.

hardened plunderer drags away the ring from the un-
resisting hand, and, by the act, the face of the dead man
is turned upward and meets the eye of his murderer.
In that moment's glance, horror and despair have taken
the place of greedy joy—the color forsakes his quivering
lip—the dearly-purchased gem drops from his unconscious
grasp, and, 4s he sinks to the earth beside the corpse, he
gasps out-—*“ My son! my son !”

It was too true. The old man’s only son had left his
home in early youth, disgusted with the vices that dis-
graced his home; and with hardly-earned riches and
honors, which he fondly anticipated might be the means
of rescuing his patent from the course of guilt and
depravity in which he had grown gray. he was returning
to his Mtive land—to perish thus! Il-fated son of a yet
more wretched sire—the murderer and the plunderer of his
only child !

Seek not to lift the veil that covers the horrors of his .
late remorse, but rejoice in the belief that the Cornish
wrecker is the creature of a by-gone age.








ef.

Ashantee Chi

94

-



THE ‘ASHANTEE CHIEF.

To compare the manners and customs of different na-
tions, the countries which they inhabit, their climates and
. productions, is always interesting ; and we have here as
great a contrast as could well be imagined, to the far-clad
dwellers among the snow-plains and icebergs of Boothia
Felix, in the fiery Ashantee, from the burning coast of
Africa.

The land of Ashantee forms the northern shore of the
Gu]f of Guinea, into which its numerous rivers “roll
down the golden sand.” The deep shade of huge forests
overhangs their banks, beneath which lurks many a
monster of the deep :—the huge hippopotamus, the cruel
and crafty alligator, and, deadlier still than any living foe,
the fatal African fever.

There, as the night, chilly with heavy dews, gives way
to morning, a stifling and sulphureous mist rises from the
river’s slime, and from the immense accumulation of the
quickly-decaying vegetation ; it creeps along the valleys
and the courses of the streams, until cove uewan by



06 THE ASHANTEE CHIEF.

the increasing heat ; and then the fierce sun of the tropics
beats upon the fevered head of the fated traveller. Day
fades at once into darkness, without the gradual twilight
of our temperate zone, and, with night, again returns the
cold and aguish dew. Oh, it is indeed a horrible climate
for Europeans, and well has the coast of Central Africa
merited the name of “The White Man's Grave!” And
we are apt to wonder how it is possible that man can
inhabit such a land, and that he does not abandon it to
the wild beasts which prow! and roar around his villages
at night, and lie hid in the depths of gloomy woods by
day. Not so, however, does the Ashantee chief think of
his country ; for He whose command, in the early days of
man’s creation, was “to replenish the earth and subdue
it,” bas implanted in the human breast an instinctive at-
tachment to the country of our birth; and having spread
abroad the sons of men over al! quarters of the globe, has
given them a capacity for happiness under all climes,
which perpetuates and ensures the fulfilment of His origi-
nal command.

“ But where to find that hepplest spot below?
‘Who can direct when all pretend to know?
‘The shuddering tenant of the frigid sone
Boldly proclaims the happlest spot hie own ;



Eixtels the treasures of bis stormy seas,

And his long nights of revelry and ease.

The naked negro, panting at the line,

Boasts of his golden sands and palmy wine ;
Beaks in the glare, or stems the tepid wave,
And thanks his gods for all the good they guve.
Suoh be the patrict’s boast, where’er we roam,
Fils firt, best country ever le at home.”

Bat we must not leave the Ashantee chief without a
lictle more information about him and his father-land.
The interior is not nearly so unhealthy as the coasts,
although even there immense forests cover the face of the
country, which becomes mountainous as we proceed in-
land. The trees are of stupendous growth, and of endless
variety :—the gigantic boabab—the mangrove and the
palm, mingled with a wild entanglement of thorny under-
wood, skirt the margins of the rivers :—the elegant tulip-
tree, aloes, and citrons, of various kinds, and whole forests
of trees, elsewhere unknown, diversify the interior. The
sugar-cane grows wild, fruits without end abound, and
“ flowers worthy of paradise,” of a splendor and magnifi-
cence anknown in our conservatories, and surpassed by
the prodactions of no country in the world, are scattered in
wild profasion. >



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FPRONTISPIECE

A GLANCE AT CHINA.
SCENES

FOREIGN LANDS:

OR, A VIEW OF SOME OF THE MOST

REMARKABLE WONDERS OF TRAVEL.

e
AN INTERESTING AND INSTRUCTIVE BOOK FOR YOUNG PROPLE.

(WUSTRATED WITH BUMEROUS ELEGANT ENGRAVINGS.

om

NEW.YORK :
HUBSTIS & COZANS,

104 & 106 NASSAU-STREET

One eneenenpeen sans cceamsser reese nereensnceneuenenese semen oRens are

“D. Fanabew, Printer, 35 Snn-street, cor. Nessm,
CONTENTS.

A GLANCE AT CHINA

BOOTHIA FELIX AND THE ESQUIMAUX

THE AMPHITHEATRE OF VERONA
AUSTRALIA AND THE KANGAROO

ROPE BRIDGES—INDIA

LONDON, PAST AND PRESENT

4 WARROW VILLAGE—GUIANA

THE AFRICAN KING .
THE LAND'’S END AND THE CORNISH WRECKERS .
THE ASHANTEE OnIEF

THE EDDYSTONE LIGHTHOUSE

ARCTIO REGIONS

THE CHINESE. ° . e

(8)

4
87

5&

74
76

95
102
ill
iv OONTENTS.

ALNWICK OASTLE

COMPARATIVE SIZE OF PUBLIC BUILDINGS
THE CHURCHES OF ST. PETER AND 6T. PAUL
THE NEST OF THE WILD BEB

188
189
142
146
SCENES IN FOREIGN: LANDS.



A GLANCE AT CHINA.

Tun Macedonian king, when he had reached the banks of
the Indus, wept like a spoiled child at the belief that he
should soon have no more worlds to conquer. He knew
not that far beyond the Ganges, whose sacred stream he
never visited, was a vast region, more populous, more

ivilized, and more wealthy than any of those which his
armies, in their rapid march from the Hellespont, eastward,
to the swift Hydaspes, had overrun. Two hundred years
before the era of Alexander the Great flourished Coon-foo-
tse, or, as he is known to Europeans, Confucius, the sage
and lawgiver of China, and the contemporary of Herodotus,
the father of Grecian history. And for centuries before
the time of Confucius had the Chinese empire existed;
counting far back her rulers and her dynasties, till the
truth of history was lost in a mist of mytholgical ex-
6 A GLANCE Ai CHINA

aggeration, which absurdly claims for the “Celestial Em-
pire’—as the Chinese fondly term their country—a date
some centuries previous to the time fixed by Moses for
the creation of man. This, however, the more enlightened
among themselves are-content to consider fabulous.

The simple truth is sufficiently wonderful without re-
sorting to fable; for strange indeed it is that a mighty
empire should have flourished, whose very name was for
centuries a mystery to the nations of the West, and whose
existence was sometimes treated as a chimera.

For more than twenty centuries China appears to have
attained nearly the same degree of civilization and ad-
vancement in arts, sciences, and government which now
so favorably distinguish it from other Asiatic nations;
and there it appears to have been nearly stationary.
While the “outside barbarians” of the West have been
struggling, century efter century, out of the darkness and
ignorance and brutality of their forefathers, the Chinese,
content with the wisdom, the discoveries, and the pre-
cepts that so justly distinguished the remote antiquity of
their empire, have hitherto shared but little in the mighty
changes, whether for good or evil, which have passed over
the face of the earth.

The doctrines of Christianity made but little progress
A GLANCE AT CHINA. 7

amid ‘the millions of the Celestial empire ; the Jesuits be-
ing for a long period the only possessors of the Christian
religion that obtained an entrance, and they were admitted,
not as teachers of another faith, but as astronomers, astro-
logers, and mathematicians. Mahomet appeared upon the
scene, and shook the thrones of half the known world.
The faith he preached spread from Arabia, and overflowed
all Jands, from the Straits of Gibraltar in the West to
Central Asia in the East; triamphing alike over the dead
and corrupted forms of superstition, that in the sixth cen-
tury usurped the name of Christianity—over the tenets of
Zoroaster, which still lingered amid the fire-worshippers
of Persia—over Bramah and the subject idols of Hindostan.
Bat while thrones and religions thus fell before the sword
of Islam, the doctrines of Confucius retained their sway
undisturbed throughout the extent of China.

The Tartars of Central Asia, they whose kindred at
different periods and under different names have ravaged
the most fertile and populous regions of Europe and Asia,
have twice invaded China, and seated a Tartar dynasty
upon the throne of Pekin; and the present Emperor of
China is the sixth descendant of the Manchou Tartar chief
who conquered China in 1643. But though a Tartar race
may rule, China and the Chinese remain essentially un-
8 A GLANCE AT CHINA.

changed ; the religion, the manners, the very name even of
the conquerors is absorbed and all but lost in those of the
conquered: the Tartar becomes Chinese; and while the
unwarlike nature and peaceable and industrious habits of
this remarkable people appear to render them an easy
prey to the brute force of a handful of invaders, their
immense numbers, the general diffusion of education
among them, the profound reverence and attachment to
the laws, language, and customs of their ancestors—fos-
tered from earliest infancy—these and other causes ensure
their essential independence as a nation, and enable them
to retain, by a species of passive resistance and conserva-
tive inertia, all their national characteristics unchanged
through the lapse of ages.

Lord Brougham, in his striking way, has summed up
the most remarkable features in the character and history
of the Chinese. “A territory of enormous extent, stretch-
ing 1400 miles from east to west, and as many from north
to south—peopled by above three hundred millions of
persons, all living under one sovereign—preserving their
customs for a period far beyond the beginning of authentic
history elsewhere—civilized when Europe was sunk in
barbarism—possessed, many centuries before ourselves, of
the arte which we deem the principal triumphs of civiliza-
4 GLANCE AT CHINA. ®

tion, end even yet not equalled by the industry and enter
prise of the West in the prodigious extent of their public
works—with a huge wall 1500 miles in length, built 2000
years ago, and a canal of 700, four centuries before any
canal had ever been known in Europe,—the sight of such
country and such a nation is mightily calculated to fix
the attention of the most careless observer, and to warm
the fancy of the most indifferent. But there are yet more
things unfolded in the same quarter to the eye of the politi-
cal philosopher.

“ All this vast empire under a single head; its countless
myriads of people yielding an obedience so regular and so
mechanical, that the government is exercised as if the
control were over animals or masses of inert matter; the
military force at the ruler’s disposal so insignificant, that
the mere physical pressure of the crowd must instantly
destroy it were the least resistance attempted :—the people
all this while, not only not plunged in rude ignorance, but
more generally possessed of knowledge, toa certain ex-
tent, and more highly prizing it than any other nation in
the world :—the institutions of the country established for
much above five-and-twenty centuries, and never changing
or varying (in principle at least) during that vast period
of time :—the inhabitants, with all their refinement and
10 4, GLANCE AT CHINA.

the early progress in knowledge and in the arts, never
passing a certain low point, so that they exbibit the only
instance in the history of our species of improvement
being permanently arrested in its progress :—the resources
of this civilized state incalculable, yet not able to prevent
two complete conquests by a horde of barbarians, and to
chastise the piracies of a neighboring island, (Japan,) or
to subdue a petty tribe, (Meaoutse,) existing, troublesome
and independent, in the centre of a monareby, which
seems as if it could crush them by a single movement of
its body :—the police of the state, all-powerful in certain
directions, and in others so weak as to habitually give way
for fear of being defeated: the policy of the state an un-
exampled mixture of wisdom and folly, profound views
and superficial errors :—patronage of arts and sciences,
combined with prohibition of foreign improvements :—en-
couragement of domestic industry, with exclusion of in-
ternal commerce :—promotion of inland manufacture and
trade, without employing the precious metals as a medium
of exchange :—suffering perpetually from the population
encroaching upon the means of subsistence, and yet sys-
tematically stimulating the increase of its numbers; re-
moving every check which might mitigate the evil, and
closing every outlet for the redundancy.”
A GLANCE AT CHINA. il

There seems good reason to believe, that the great jeal-
ousy of intercourse with foreigners, which the rulers of
China have for so many years exhibited in so remarkable
& manner, arose mainly from the fears of the Tartar
rulers, lest their people, by acquaintance with other ne-
tions, should acquire inclitation or power to throw off
their foreign yoke; and that the vexatious and insulting
obstructions to commerce, so long persisted in, were
scarcely more obnoxious to us than to the wishes and
habits of the Chinese people, although their love of order
and reverence for the authority of their rulers checked
any exhibition of this feeling on their part.

If this be the case, we may indulge a not unreasonable
hope that the war, so recently waged by England against
China, contemptible, not to say disgraceful, as it was in
its origin, may, in its consequences, be beneficial to the
Chinese, as well as to other nations.

Sir Henry Pottinger, (who negotiated on the part of
England the treaty of Nanking which was concluded in
1843,) with wise and liberal policy, stipulated for no ex-
clusive privilege to England, but included other nations in
its provisions for free commercial intercourse. Sir Henry
speaks most highly of the ability and uprightness of some
of the Chinese Mandarins, who conferred with him upoa
13 4 GLANCE AT CHINA.

the provisions of the treaty; and the esteem appears to
have been mutual, and to have ripened into friendship.

The Chinese, astonished that an island of inconsidera-
ble size could exhibit, at such an immense distance from
home, power and resources sufficient to baffle all the
efforts of their own great empire, in the very centre of its
dominions, have lost mach of that overweening self-
conceit which made them affect to treat all visitors as
tributariés and subjects, and therefore as objects of con-
tempt and insult. The English, as their acquaintance
with the language and customs of this singular people in-
creases, appear to find more and more to respect and to
adinire, and less t6 ridicule; and let us hope that, by the
mutual exercise of forbearance and confidence, the newly
cemented friendship between England end China may
continue undisturbed by oppression on one part, and by ill
faith on the other. .

I have thus endeavored to afford a few general “Glimp-
ses of the Wonderful” in this great portion of the human
family; for seeing that so many works, of easy access for
all readers, have recently appeared, containing descrip-
tions of China in every aspect, it seemed needless to
repeat the process here. Every reader, young and old,
is by this time familiar with the quaint, unwieldy forms
A GLANCE AT CHINA. 18

of Chinese junks, with their high, overhanging sterns,
their bamboo sails, and ornaments of paint and gilding ;—~
the nine-storied pagodas, with their porcelain roofs,
peaked, and ornamented with bells and flags, are known
to us all from the days of childhood, when we admired the
blue pictures on our plates, beneath the meat and pudding ;
and there too, and in many pictured page of greater
pretensions, we have become familiar with Chinese
bridges, fish-ponds, and pleasure-houses, and the never-
absent willow—the doll-like lady, with her pinched and
stunted feet, and the fat Mandarin, with his long tail.
The Chinese Exhibition, too, has shown to thousands of
delighted visitors the manners and productions of the
empire in yet more vivid reality. And as to the Great
Northern Wall, one of the “ wonders of the world,” be they
limited to seven, or extended to a hundred, it is familiar
to every young student of geography ; and so we need not
enlarge upon it here, but will take our flight to other
scenes in search of other wonders.
BOOTHIA FELIX AND THE ESQUIMAUY.

For the last three hundred years, attempts have been
made by navigators of different Ecropean nations to find
@ northern passage to India and China, and the othersich
countries and islands of eastern Asia, and thus to avoid
the long voyages round the southern extremities of Africa
or South America. There is hardly a doubt that such
& passage exists, both in a western and in an eastern di-
rection; the one along the northern shore of Asia, the
othor through Baffin’s Bay, and between the islands that
are clustered along the Arctic shore of North America.
But it is almost cqually certain that, even should some
fortuna‘e voyager be able, in some very mild season, to
force his way by either channel, the discovery will be of
little practical utility for merchant-vessels, until the cli-
mate of that part of the globe materially alters. It is only
during unusually mild years that the snow ever disappears
froma the land, or the ice from the sea, even in the height
of at Pi and this is only for a very few weeks, or even

BOOTHIA FELIX AND THE ESQUIMAUX 17

days, and then again all is buried jy adamantine chains
for nine or ten weary months.

The last attempt to discover the long-sought northwest
passage was made in 1829, by Captain Ross. Aided by Sir
Felix Booth, a wealthy London merchant, he fitted out a
steam vessel, called the Victory, with every requisite for a
polar voyage. After some delays and disappointments,
chiefly from the defective state of the boiler and other parts
of the steam-engine, the captain reached Baffin’s Bay, vis-
ited the Danish settlement of Helsteinberg, on the coast of
Greenland, and entered Lancaster's Sound. He sailed down
Prince Regent's Inlet, to the spot where Captain Parry's
ship, the Fury, had been wrecked four years before. Her
crew had returned to England in the Hecla, and as this
vessel could not contain .all her stores, they were neces-
sarily abandoned, after having been piled on the beach in
regular order. Captain Ross had obtained permission
from government to muke use of them, and he was not
disappointed in his calculation of finding that they had
sustained no material injury. When he landed on the
beach, with three of his officers, he found only one tent
left entire. This had been the mess-tent of the Fory’s
officers, and it was evident that the bears and foxes had
paid it frequent visits. However, the preserved meats and
i8 BOOTHIA FELIX AND THE E3SQUIMAUX

vegetables were effectually protected from the sharp noses
and strong jaws of these hungry visitors by the strongly-
soldered tin canisters; and though the two heaps had
been exposed to all weathers, they had not suffered in the
slightest degree :—one hot summer's day in a milder
region would have done more mischief than all the storms
of the polar sky. Besides preserved meat and vegetables,
there were wine, spirits, bread, flour, sugar, cocoa, lime-
juice, and pickles. They then took on board the Victory
stores and provisions sufficient for their use during the
space of two years and a quarter, by which time they
hoped to have made their way through the long-desired
passage, and returned to England. Vain hopes, only to end
in long suffering and disappointment! However, the
whole party were in excellent spirits at finding, in an
abandoned region of solitude, and ice, and rocks, a ready
market for all their wants collected in one spot, ready for
shipment and free of cost ; and having thus provided them
selves, they proceeded on their voyage down Prince Re-
gent’s Inlet, at the bottom of which they hoped to find a
passage to the westward.

The winter of 1829 was unusually mild in that part
of the world, and the sea being therefore comparatively
free from ice, the Victory reached the bottom of the
BOOTHIA FELIX AND THE ESQUIMAUX. 10

inlet before the winter set in, without any great diffi-
culty. By the 8th of October, Hbwever, the ice had
gathered round them, and they were fast frozen in.
“There was not,” writes the captain, “an atom of clear
water to be seen anywhere, and, excepting the occasional
dark points of a protruding rock, nothing but one dazzling
and monotonous, dull and wearisome extent of snow was
visible all round the horizon in the direction of the land.
It was indeed a dull prospect amid all its brilliancy ; this’
land—this land of ice and snow—has ever been, and ever
will be, a dull, dreary, heart-sinking, monotonous waste,
under the influence of which every mind is paralyzed,
ceasing to care or think, as it ceases to feel what might,
did it occur but once, or last but one day, stimulate us by
its novelty; for it is but a view of uniformity, and silence,
and death.”

However, though the captain wrote thus dismally, he
took every precaution to preserve the health and spirits of
his men, and with good success. The rigging of the ship
‘was taken down, a roof, with canvass sides hanging be-
low the ship's bulwarks, was built over the deck, and
under this the men might take exercise when the weather
was too severe and boisterous to permit their leaving the
ship with safety. Pipes were placed, both to warm and te
20 BOOTHIA FELIK AND THE ESQUIMAUX.

ventilate the interior of the ship. The men’s hammocks
were taken down at six in the morning, and hung up at
ten every night. The lower deck, being the dwelling-
floor, was covered with hot sand every morning, and
scrubbed till eight o'clock, when they breakfasted. The
upper deck having been covered with snow two and a half
feet thick, was trodden down, till it became a solid mass
of ice, and was then sprinkled with sand. At six o’clock
“every evening the sailors attended school, in which the
officers officiated as teachers; and the captain states, that
the men seemed to feel that they all belonged to one
family, evincing mutual kindness, with a regularity and
tranquillity of behavior not very general on board of a
ship.

Several expeditions were now made from the ship,
during which it was ascertained that they were on a large
peninsula, in the Polar Sea, which bounds the northern
shore of America. To this peninsula Captain Ross gave
the name of Boothia Felix, in honor of his patron, Sir
Felix Booth; but in no other respect does the name Felix
appear appropriate, for, by the captain’s account, this is
one of the most miserable and inhospitable regions that
man has ever visited, being at the very centre of arctic
cold—a land which is never, even during the height of its
BOOTHIA FELIX AND THE ESQUTRAUX. 21

brief summer, free from ice and snow—where such a thing
as a tree or a flower is never seen; mosses and lichens,
and in sheltered situatiors a few grasses, being almost the
only signs of vegetation. It is true, the poor captain and
his men were frozen in, and compelled to pass, not one but
four dreary winters there, sorely against their hopes and
wishes, when they had expected to acquire great renown
by forcing their way through the Polar Sea, and emerging
through Behring’s Straits into the Pacific Ocean.

Early in January, 1830, their solitude was interrupted
by the visits of some Esquimaux, the wandering inhabit-
ants of this frozen land; for, strange as it may appear to
us, there are actually people who love this country as
their father-land—who are born, and pass their lives in its
frozen solitudes, doubtless enjoying as much happiness as
if this region were the brightest, sunniest spot on earth.
The Esquimaux are a simple-hearted, harmless people,
with broad, good-humored, healthy faces. There were
thirty-one in this party, of whom the eldest, Illicta, was
sixty-five years old; six others between forty and fifty;
twenty between forty and twenty; the number being made
up by four boys. Two were lame, and, with the old man,
were drawn by the others in sledges. They were all
well dressed, chiefly in excellent deer-skins, the upper
23 BOOTHIA FELIX AND THE ESQUIMAUX.

garments double, and encircling the body, reaching in front
from the chin to the middle of the thigh, and having a
cape behind to draw over the head. The sleeves covered
the fingers, and of the two skins that composed this gar-
ment, one had the hair next the body, and the other in the
reverse direction. They had on two pairs of boots, with
the hairy side turned inward, and above them deer-skin
trousers, reaching very low on the leg; besides which,
some of them had shoes outside their boots, and trousers
of seal instead of deer-skin. And very comfortable
clothing this must have been for such a frozen climate.
Under such e heap of clothing they appeared a much
larger people than they really were. All of them bore
spears, looking not much unlike a walking-stick, with a
ball of wood or ivory at one end, and a point of horn at
the other. On examining the shafts they were found to
be formed, not of one long stick, (for where no trees
grow no sticks can be cut,) but of small pieces of wood,
or of the bones of animals very neatly joined together.
But where can they obtain small picces of wood any more
than long sticks? During the summer, great quantities of
drift-wood float along the shores of the Polar seas, and
this is eagerly collected by the Esquimaux for fuel and
other uses. This wood probably grew, for the most part,
BOOTHIA FELIX AND THE ESQUIMAUKX. ‘23

on the banks of some of the American rivers, which flow
into the Polar seas—some of it may even be brought down
the rivers of the northeast of Asia. However, from what-
ever quarter it comes, it is borne to and fro by the winds
and currents, until, being caught in some of the numerous
bays that indent these coasts, it falls into the hands of the
Esquimaur.

Not having expected them at this moment, Captain
Ross had no presents for them; but they consented to
accompany him to the ship, and were delighted by the
gift of thirty-one pieces of hoop iron. In return they
offered their spears and knives, but were very well pleased
to find their offer was not accepted. “We could now
easily see,” writes Captain Ross, “that their appearance
was very superior to our own; being at least as well
clothed and far better fed, with plump cheeks, of as rosy
a color as they could be under so dark a skin. Like
other Esquimaux, their good-natured faces were a regular
oval; the eyes dark and approaching each other, the nose
small, and the hair black.” They seemed cleaner, too, than
some the captain had seen in former voyages. Their
dresses were made with peculiar neatness, and some were
ornamented with fringes, made of sinews or with strings
of amall bones. They did not relish the preserved meat
24 BOOTHIA FELIX AND THE ESQUIMAUL

that was given them, but on being offered some oil, drank
it off with great delight. Blubber, fat, tallow, in short,
grease of any kind, however disgusting to us, is eagerly
sought and devoured by the Esquimaux. And Captain
Roes remarks, very oddly, but not less truly, that it would
be very desirable if Europeans who visit the arctic re-
gions could acquire a taste for the same food ; since all
experience shows, that the large use of oil and fat meats
is the true secret of life and health in these frozen
countries, and that the natives cannot subsist without it,
becoming diseased and soon dying under a less oleaginous
diet.

Nor is this impossible, since patients in English hos-
pitals, who have been dosed with fish-oil for the cure of
rheumatism, soon learn to like it, and prefer that which
has the strongest flavor. Many who have perished in
the winters of those climates might doubtless have been
saved, if they had conformed to the usages and expe-
rience of the natives. How admirably has the Great
Father of men adapted the constitution of man to accom
modate itself to the climate and productions of the coun-
try which he inhabits |

The bears, seals, and whales, upon which the Esqui-
maux and Greenlanders live almost entirely, have an
BOOTHIA FELIK AND THE ESQUIMAUE 25

enormous quantity of fat in their huge bodies. This
fat is found by physiologists to be highly essential to
produce, in the process of respiration, a certain amount of
animal heat, so as to keep up the temperature of the body
in those climates. On the contrary, in temperate and
‘warm regions, such food as the Esquimaux enjoy would,
besides being disgusting, be useless and ourtfal; while
these people consume enormous quantities of it, and
are enabled thus to support the bitterness of an aretic
winter, without appearing to suffer more from the ex-
treme cold than do the residents of more genial climes
daring their winter. In other respects, too, it is curious
to observe how these poor people, simple and ignorant as
we may think them, manage to live in health, comfort,
and plenty, where Europeans, however hardy, and pro-
vided beforghand with a home, (their ship,) fitted up with
every comfort, with abundant stores of provision and ex-
pensive clothing, can hardly manage to exist for two or
three years—become diseased and emaciated, and think it
a great achievement to return home alive.

The Esquimaux seems to make even the cold, that ren-
ders every thing not living as hard as iron, subservient to
his purpose. In two hours he can build a perfect shelter
from the biting blast, with square blocks of mow. His
26 ‘BOOTHIA FELIX AND THE ESQUIMAUX

house is a dome of solid masonry, of which every part is
nicely fitted, and provided with a long winding gallery,
open in a direction opposite to that from which the coldest
winds blow. From the frozen bodies of fish he can form
a sledge, which, being bound together with the sinews of
bears and deer, glides securely over the frozen plain.
During the winter, sea and land are alike to him; he har-
nesses his dogs and gallops away over either, and finds his
food beneath the ice that covers the deep.

Captain Ross and his men soon returned the visits of
the Esguimaux, whose village consisted of twelve snow-
hats, which had the appearance of inverted besins. Each
hut had the long appendage mentioned before ; and oppo-
site the entrance of the principal apartment, which was a
circular dome, was a flooring of snow, raised about two
feet and a half high, and covered with various skins: this
formed the sleeping-place of the family. At one end of
this platform sat the mistress of the house, opposite the
lamp, which being of moss and oil, gave sufficient flame to
supply both light and heat. Over the lamp was the cook-
ing-dish of stone, containing the flesh of deer and of seals,
with oil, and there seemed abundance of this provision.
All these snow-huts were lighted by a large oval piece of
clear ice, fixed about half-way up, on the eastern side of
BOOTHIA FELIK AND THE ESQUIMAUX. 87

the roof. Captain Ross found that all these huts were
scarcely a day old. What cares the Esquimaux for wood
and bricks, and slate, and glass 1—he has his ice and mow,
with which he forms a perfect shelter in less time than our
builders would require to mark out the ground. This party
of Esquimanux, and some others besides, frequently visited
the ship, and made themselves very useful to our country-
men, by guiding them on their exploring trips, and catch-
ing fish. In payment for these services they were well
pleased to receive files, needles, and chisels—in short, iron
in any shape, of which they fully appreciated the use and
value.

One poor native, named Tulluiahu, had lost a leg, and
was obliged to be drawn on sledges whenever his company
moved from place to place. The ship’s carpenter set to
work to make him a wooden leg, with which he stamped
about with great delight at being once more set upright,
and able to walk. In token of gratitude for this service
his wife, Tiriksiu, made Captain Ross a complete female
dress, which was a first-rate specimen of Esquimaux tailor.
ing; the skins being most carefully fitted, so that the col-
ors of the far should match; while there was a fringe
below, and a border of white round the hood and arm-
holes. In return, the captain gave her a silk handkerchief
28 BOOTHIA FELIX AND THE ESQUIMAUK.

which attracted great admiration. Tiriksiu also gave
them some useful geographical information: she, in com-
mon with many of the natives, perfectly understood the
nature and object of a chart. In fact, Ikmalik, one of the
moet intelligent among them, had drawn, for the captain's
use, a chart of the neighboring coasts; and Tiriksiu, on
being shown it, marked, in addition, several islands, the
places where food could be obtained, and where they had
better sleep on their journey: and in this, ag in other in-
stances, it was found that their information was remarka-
bly accurate.

The sun at length began to appear above the horizon ;
the winter gradually passed away—at least so it would
be considered in those regions; and the Esquimaux de-
parted to their summer haunts.

The ice gradually melted around the ship, and the
voyagers made every preparation for sailing away. They
watched anxiously, day after day, for an opportunity of
Getting into open sea; but not until September did the
Victory once more float in free water. They got under
sail; they advanced about three miles through the loose
ice; which socn united again, blocked up the channel by
which they had hoped to escape, closed round the Vic-
tory, and once more were they bound in for another winter,
BOOTHIA FELIX AND THE ESQUIMAUX. 30

to be passed in the same manher as the last, but with
diminished hopes of success.

In August, 1831, the Victory floated once more, was
towed out of harbor by the boats, and this year they sailed
four miles, when they were again blocked up by the ice,
end a third dreary winter was before them.

As the summer of 1832 drew near, they determined to
abandon the ship, and endeavor to reach, in the open
boats, some part of the sea where they might fall in with
some of the whaling-ships; for by this time the stores
they had taken from Fury Beach were becoming exhaust-
ed, and it seemed needful to reduce the daily portion of
food.

They prepared their sledges, boats, and provisions ;
they nailed the English flag to the mast of the poor
Victory, and aban:loned her to her fate. Captain Ross
writes—“ It was the first vessel I had ever been obliged
to abandon, after having served in thirty-six, during a
period of forty-two years. It was like parting with an old
friend, and I did not pass the point where she ceased to be
visible, without stopping to take a sketch of this melan-
choly desert, rendered more melancholy by the solitary
abandoned home of our past years, fixed in immoveable
ice, till time should perform on her his usual work.”
30 BOOTHIA FELIX AND THE ESQUIMAOUX.

After many difficulties and hardships they again reached
Fury Beach on the Ist of July, and found the remainder
of the provisions in the same condition as they had left
them three years before. Here the poor travellers were
once more put on a fall allowance of food. They built
house, and rested for a month, in order to recruit after
their fatigues in dragging the boats and sledges over the
rough ice, or, worse still, the soft, melting snow. By the
Ist of August some clear, navigable water appeared ; the
boats were launched, and they beat about for the next two
months, in hopes of gaining the open sea, where they
might probably find some whaling-ships. It was, how-
exer, in vain ; the ice again closed round them, and leaving
their boats drawn up in a secure position on the beach,
they had once more to return to their house on Fury
Beach, and make preparations to pass there their fourth
winter, which they spent as before, but without any visits
from the Esquimaux, who do not appear to have frequent-
ed this spot.

In July, 1833, they once more set forward on their
way. They found the boats where they had left them
the preceding autumn, and during August they sailed
along the lane of water, which now appeared through
the ice, and by the 17th the sea was once more free.
BOOTHIA FELIX AND THE ESQUIMAUX. 31

On the 26th they were aroused by Wood, the look-out
man, who thought he saw “a sail in the offing;” and
the telescope soon showed that it really was a ship, though
there were still some despairers, who maintained that it
was only an iceberg, which frequently has the appearance,
at a distance, of a vessel under sail. No time was to be
lost ; they burned wet powder to attract attention from the
still distant vessel; launched the boats from the shore, and
set off, with sail and oar, in pursuit of her, and hoped
soon to have been alongside. Just then a breeze sprung
up, the ship bore up before it and sailed away, and left
the poor boats’ crews unnoticed, far behind. About ten
o'clock they saw another vessel to the northward, which
appeared to be lying-to for the boats. This, however, was
not the case, as she too soon bore up under all sail, and it
was too evident that she was fast leaving them. This
Was & most anxious moment for our poor discoverers, who
found themselves so near two ships, either of which would
have put an end to all their fears and toils, and yet that
they might possibly reach neither. Providentially, tho
wind ceased, and the boats once more gained on the ship,
whose crew soon discovered them, and a boat was lowered
and rowed directly towards the three in which were
Captain Ross and his men. She was soon within hail,
82 BOOTHIA FELIX AND THE ESQUIMAUX.

and the mate in command of her asked if they had lost
their ship. This being answered in the affirmative, the
captain requested to know the name of his vessel, and
was answered, “The Isabella, of Hull, formerly com-
manded by Captain Ross.” “On this I stated,” says the
captain, “that I was the idettical man, and my people
the crew of the Victory. That the mate was as much
astonished at this information as he appeared to be, I
do not doubt; but with the usual blunderheadednegs
of men on such occasions, he assured me that I had been
dead two years.” The captain soon convinced him that
he was mistaken, and a hearty congratulation, in true
seaman’s style, followed of course, and he returned to
his ship to tell the news. As they slowly followed him,
he jumped on board, and in a minute the rigging o! the
Isabella was manned, and Captain Ross and his men were
saluted with three cheers, and a hearty seaman’s welcome.
The captain adds—* Though we had not been supported
by our names and characters, we should not the less
have received from charity the attentions we reccived,
for never was seen o more miserable set of wretches: no
beggar that wanders in Ireland could have outcone us.
Unshaven since I know not when, dirty, dressed in the
rags of wild beasts, and starved to the very bones, our
BOOTHIA FELIX AND THE ESQUIMAUX. as

geunt and grim looks, when contrasted with those of the
well-dressed and well-fed men around us, made us all feel,
I believe for the first time, what we really were, as well
as what we seemed to others. But a ludicrous scene soon
took place of all other feelings. In such a crowd and in
sach confusion all serious thought was impossible, while ,
the new buoyancy of our spirits made us abundantly
willing to be amused by the scene which now opened.
Every man was hungry, and was to be fed;. all were
ragged, and were to be clothed; there was not one to
whom washing was not indispensable, nor one whom his
beard did not deprive of all English resemblance. All,
every thing, too, was to be done at once—it was washing,
dressing, shaving, eating, all intermingled—it was all the
materials ‘of each jumbled together, while in the midst of
all these there were interminable questions to be asked
and answered on all sides—the adventures of the Victory,
our own escapes, the politics of England, and the news
which was now four years old. But all subsided into
peace at last. The sick were accommodated, the seamen
disposed of, and all was done for us which care and kind-
ness could perform. Night at length brought quiet and
serious thoughts; and I trust there was not one man
among us who did not ra express where it was due
M4 BOOTHIA FELIX AND THE ESQUIMAUX.

his gratitude for that interposition which had raised as all
from despair, which none could now forget, and had
brought us from the brink of a not distant grave to life,
and friends, and civilization. Long accustomed, however,
to a cold bed, on the hard snow or the bare rock, few
could sleep amid the comfort of our new accommodations.
I was myself compelled to leave the bed which had been
so kindly assigned me, and to take my abode in a chair for,
the night; nor did it fare much better with the rest. It
was for time to reconcile us to this sudden and violent
change—to break through what had become habit, and to
inure us once more to the usages of our former days.”

In October, 1883, the Isabella reached England in safe-
ty, and Captain Ross and his companions, after all their
dangers and hardships, were warmly welcomed home by
their countrymen, who had long given them up for lost,
3
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THE AMPHITHEATRE OF VERONA.

Mopgan Italy abounds in relics of antiquity—memorials,
more or less entire, of a time when she was mistress of the
world. Now, oppressed by foreign intruders, and degraded
by native superstition, her children seek for consolation by
turning to the glories of their ancestors, and thirst for the
time when their beautiful country may again take her
proper station amidst the nations of Europe. The Roman,
as he treads the ruins of the Forum, listens in fancy to the
eloquence of Cicero; he paces the gigantic round of the
Coliseam, and its now ruined and deserted walls appear,
to his fervid imagination, crowded with the nfyriads eager *
to witness the contests of wild beasts, or the dying strug-
gles of the gladiator.

The lively Neapolitan descends to the buried remains
of Herculaneum and Pompeii, where are brought visibly
before him the domestic manners of his ancestors: he sees
the preparations for the meal that was never tasted ; he
visits the dungeon of the prisoner whose doom was pro-
gounced by no mortal judge; and his aie iar levity is
88 THE AMPHITHEATRE OF VERONA.

for a while sobered by the thought that the fires of Vesu-
vius are yet unquenched, and that his own bright city
may one day shure the fate of those before him, and like
them, after centuries of burial, be restored to the wonder
and curiosity of some later age.

The glory of Verona is its amphitheatre, which is one
of the most striking relics of the grandeur of the ancient
Romans. The time of its erection cannot be accurately
ascertained, as there is no inscription remaining on its
walls to guide the decision of the antiquary; nor has it
been referred to by any classical writer whose works have
descended to us. Except the Coliseum at Rome, it is the
largest existing edifice of the kind, being nearly 1500 feet,
or more than a quarter of a mile in circomference. The
arena, (the level space seen in the cut,) within the benches,
is 249 feet across its longer, and 146 feet across its shorter
diameter ; for, like other buildings of its class, it is not
circular, but elliptic, or oval. From the outer edge of the
arena to the outside walls, is about 200 feet, and it is cal-
culated that the seats which occupy this space would ac-
commodate 22,000 spectators.

The outer wall contained four stories of arches, and
there were seventy-two arches in each story ; of these,
one fragment, containing three stories, of four arches
THE AMPHITHEATRE OF VERONA. 89

each, and rising to the height of 100 feet, is all that
remains—to the top of the fourth story would, no doubt,
have exceeded 120 feet. The modern Veronese have, at
different periods, repaired the interior of the amphitheatre,
and the seats are in tolerable preservation. When the
French, under Napoleon, had possession of Verona, they
erected in the arena a wooden theatre, for the amusement
of the soldiers and citizens ; and this characteristic monu-
ment of French taste still remains. It will be seen that
this amphitheatre is open to the sky. This was the case
in ancient Greece and Italy, with all the buildings intend-
ed for public concourse, and the beautiful climate of those
countries allowed such a practice without material incon-
venience. The games and spectacles of ancient Greece
and Rome were generally more or less of a religious
character, and were accompanied with sacrifices to their
gods. Among these two nations, in the brighter periods
of their history, there was a considerable diffusion of in-
telligence ; and yet, (the art of printing being unknown to
them,) books were a luxury forbidden to all but the few—
the rich, the noble, and the wise. Hence, with a greate:
zest, tho Greeks and Romans of antiquity, with minds
earnest, active, and excitable, crowded in throngs, to
which modern times have few parallels, to all places of
40 THE AMPHITHEATRE OF VERONA.

public resort. The public games were frequented by
every class and every age :—the philosopher went to
lecture and to argue; the demagogue to declaim, the
athlete to exhibit his own prowess; the equestrian that
of his steeds; the magistrate to preside and to appor-
tion the prizes; and all the world to see, to hear, or to
exhibit.

To accommodate crowds so immense, buildings must be
proportionate; and hence, among other causes, were the
skill, the taste, the power, and the riches of ancient
Greece and Rome concentrated to erect and to adorn
edifices, many of which, like the amphitheatre of Verona,
still exist to delight and to astonish succeeding ages.

At the Roman exhibitions was often squandered, in
a few days, the annual revenue of a province, wrang by
some victorious general from the groans and tears of the
conquered, and expended to win the favor of the popu-
lace, and the power which depended on their suffrage.
The drama—races, both on foot, on horseback, and in
chariots—the fights of wild and savage beasts from dis:
tant countries, were among the shows that drew the
immense crowds together; but of all the exhibitions of
the arena, that which most delighted the ancient Italians
was the combat of gladiators. These unhappy men were
THE AMPHITHEATRE OF VERONA 1

mostly prisoners of war, aad were selected for their
strength and courage from ‘all countries overrun by the
Roman armies—from Thrace, from the banks of the
Danube and the Rhine, from the forests of Germany and
Gaul, from the foot of the Pyrenees, and from the burning
soil of Africa. Before the combat, they walked round the
arena, frequently to the number of five hundred at a time,
to allow the spectators to judge of their comparative
strength, stature, and agility; and the perfumed exquisite
and the delicate matron of ancient Italy, equally with the
rough plebeian and the veteran inured to blood in many
a battle, disctssed the merits of each exhibitor—his
chance of victory, and betted on the result with all the
gusto of a modern jockey. Each wretched victim was
bound by solemn oaths, and by the threat of fearful tor-
ments if he violated them, to strive for victory to the ut-
most—either to slay, or to be slain.

A gladiator worsted in the deadly fight, might, beforo
the death-blow descended, appeal for pity to the spee-
tators ; but often, alas, the appeal was vain! If his skill
and prowess had not satisfied his judges, their thumbe,
bent backward, signified that he must die; and his
brother gladiator durst not, for his own life, spare his fail-
en fve—that foe, perhaps, his countryman and his friend.
é THE AMPHITHEATEE OF VERONA

© Jee before me the gladiator lie:
He keane upon bis hand ; his manly brow
Consents te death, but conquers agony,
And his dreep’d bead sinks gradually low:
And threagh bis sides the lest drops ebbing slow
Frees the red gash fall heavy, one by one,
Like the first of a thander-shower; and now
The arena swims around him—he is gone,
TEre ceased the inhuman shout which hail’d the wretch whe wen.

“ He heard it, but be heeded not ; his eyes
‘Were with his heart, and that wes far away.
He reck’d not of the life he lost, nor prize ;
Bat where his rade but by the Danube lay,
There were his young barbarians all at play }—
There wea the Decian mother—he their aire
Bauteher'd, te make a Roman holiday!
All this resh’d with his blood. Shall be expire?
Aad unavenged? Arise, ye Goths, and giot your ire.

To the honor of the ancient Greeks, they steadily re-
fused, from motives of humanity, to imitate their Roman
masters by introducing this barbarous pastime.

Gladiatorial exhibitions were abolished by Constantine
the Great, nearly six hundred years after their first insti-
tution. They were, however, revived under the Emperor
Constantius aad his two successors, but Honorius at
THRE AMPHITHEATRE OF VERONA. “a

tempted, by edict, to put an end to these cruel barbarities.
In spite of this, however, efforts were made in Italy to
restore them to their ancient splendor, when, upon one
occasion, a noble monk, named Telemachus, entered the
arena to seperate the combatants. The spectators, en-
raged at the ipterruption of their favorite pastime, over
whelmed the intrepid monk with a shower of stones.
Hardly was the murder committed, when horror and
remorse seized the perpetrators; the feeling of shame and
repentance spread, and the martyrdom of Telemachus
sealed the condemnation of gladiatorial exhibitions, and
ensured the submission of the people to the imperial
edict, which forever abolished the human sacrifices of the
amphitheatre,
AUSTRALIA, AND THE KANGAROO.

Tus vast island, or rather continent of Australie, differs
from the other portions of the known world in many
important particulare—in its peculiarities of soi), climate,
and geographical features, and in its animal and vegetable
prodactions.

For instance, its largest rivers, instead of widening and
deepening as they flow onward from their source, and
pouring a broader streath into the ocean, gradually di-
minish after leaving the hill country, and finally disappear,
before they reach the const, in chains of pools and vast
tracts of morass, or else diffuse their waters into a broad
but shallow lake, which partly evaporates, and partly
creeps or soaks into the sea by some narrow and insignifi-
cant outlet, choked up with sand. Besides this, many
of the Australian rivers, as well as the inland lakes, are
as salt as the ocean itself.

In most other countries we find that well-watered and
fertile districts abound in the plains, and that desolation
and marily are associated with high lands, mountains,

AUSTRALIA, AND THE KANGAROO. 47

and rocks. In Australia the reverse of all this holds good.
The mountain districts, and the terraces at their feet, by
which the traveller sinks into the dead level country, are
fertile, well watered, and picturesque, abounding with
vegetable productions of a peculiar character, quite dis-
tinct from those of our hemisphere, and enlivened by birds
of brilliant plumage.

On the other hand, the plains, which are of immense
extent, and with an horizon: as unvaried ‘as that of the
wide ocean, are, for the most part, alternately arid deserts
or impassable swamps, and in either case are dreary and
desolate. During the long droughts, which periodically
prevail in Australia, théy are a dry waste, where “the
dust groweth into hardness, and the clods cleave fast to-
gether ;” hardly a bird is seen, and the vegetable kingdom
is almost annihilated; the beds of the exhausted rivers
are crusted with salt, and on the dusty banks wither in
heaps the parched stems of the dead marsh-plants.

After the wet season, which follows the years of drought,
the same district generally becomes an almost impassable
bog, full of water-holes, or else an immense inland sea, in
which stand rotting the bare trunks of full-grown trees.
A few months afterwards, and this inland sea will probably
have become a grassy plain.
#@ AUSTRALIA, AND THE KANGAROO.

Australia, in fact, appears to be really new land—not
merely new to us, but of much more recent formation
than oor northern continents, and to be undergoing at
this very time a state. of transition, in which, by means
at first-sight inadequate to work such mighty changes,
this country is becoming gradually but surely fitted, more
and more, for the abode of man; and we may anticipate
the time when its now barren plains will produce food and
sustenance for nations as numerous as those which crowd
the most populous districts of Europe or Asia.

“ Known unto God are all His works, from the founda-
tion of the world ;” and may not we, his rational creatures,
take glimpses of the wonderful working of His creative
power, atill in active exercise upon the earth? May we
not, without presumption, speculate on the benevolent pro-
visions of that all-seeing wisdom, by the operation of
which, through ages from the earliest dawn of time until
now, this beautiful and glorious earth has been prepared,
and is yet preparing, for the reception of His creatures—
fitted more and more to minister to their production, their
sustenance, and their delight?

It would appear, then, that at a period comparatively
recent, (recent, that is, contrasted with the time when the
other continents took their present general aspect,) the
AUSTRALIA, AND THE KANGAROO. #@

vast level plains in the interior of Australia have been
raised above the surface of the ocean :—that its mougtains
and elevated terraces were then islands, similar in charac-
ter to those fair gems of earth which are so profusely scat-
tered over the Pacific; and that its rivers were at that
time island mountain torrents, each of which once found 6
short and rapid passage to the ocean, but which now,
when once they have left the falling country, wind their
sluggish and uncertain course amidst the dead levels of
the newly-raised land, and, as before observed, lose them-
selves in pools and marshes. But year by year, and cen-
tury after century, these streams are wearing for them-
selves a deeper and more continuous channel to the coast,
(whose barrier of coral rocks is the wondrous work of
myriads of minute sub-marine animals.) And the time
may, with great probability, be anticipated, when mighty
rivers—the Lachlan and the Macquarie, the Darling, the
Morrumbidgee, and the Marray, with their numerous trib-
ataries, all now detached and broken, will form a mag-
nificent assemblage of connected rivers, opening up to the
ocean upwards of 4000 miles of inland navigation, in
southern and eastern Australia, and watering an extent
of country of not less than 40,000 square miles. And, in
os ann Sis, Fa COMA Aang ee cooee ce tee ee
30 AUSTRALIA, AND THE KANGAROO.

years, the land, hitherto a waste, barren as the sea-shore,
is becoming covered by the rich alluvial deposits, brought
by the floods from the mountain ranges. And again—
how the very destraction of vegetable life, consequent on
the long-continued droughts, provides layers of nutriment
for fature generations of plants of a superior class, and
suitable for the countless flocks and herds which accom-
pany man and minister to his wants.

With one exception, all the trees of Australia are ever-
greens, and from the smoked color of their leaves, they
give a somewhat gloomy appearance to the scenery of its
forests, which, however, are seldom dense assemblages of
countless trees, like the primeval woods of our continent
and America, but are scattered over the country in distinct
clumps and patches, giving a park-like appearance to the
landscape.

Not less peculiar, in formation and character, is the
zoology of Australia. With some of its more remarkable
animals—as the emu among the birds and the kangaroo
among the quadrupeds—most of my readers will be toler-
ably familiar. The emu is the Australian ostrich—does
not fly, bat rans swiftly, and kicks out at its pursuers like
a horse, and with almost equal force.

The kangaroo is the largest native quadruped, and has
AUSTRALIA, AND THE KANGAROO. 61

been for some years domesticated in English parks and
zoological collections. There are three or four varieties
of this animal, the largest of which (represented in the
cat) is frequently six feet in height, and eqaal in weight
toacalf. Its character is gentle and timid, and, in many
respects, resembles that of the deer, but with less intelli-
gence. It feeds on all-fours, but at other times stands
erect upon its hind legs, and is supported also by its long
and powerful tail. When disturbed or pursued, it darts
off in a succession of flying leaps, which give a herd of
them a most ludicrous appearance. Its, short fore paws
are strong, and adapted for digging, and when hard
pressed by dog or man, the animal has been known to
turn, and with them seize its enemy, and rip him up with
one stroke of its powerful hind leg, which is armed with
two sharp claws of great size and strength. But the great
peculiarity of this, and some other animals of Australia, is
the abdominal pouch, to which its young, for some time
after they can walk, constantly retarn on the approach of
danger; and though thus burdened, the female kangaroo
will leap away with amazing swiftness.

Another most singular creature is the ornithoryncus, or
duck-billed platypus, an animal which, to the thickly-
furred body and burrowing habits of the mole, unites the
52 AUSTRALIA, AND THE KANGAROO.

feet and bill of a duck, and the internal structure of a
reptile. It is extremely shy, so that its habits are yet but
little known, and naturalists have hardly yet determined
whether or not its young are produced from eggs. Had a
staffed specimen of this singular animal been first pro
duced only at the exhibition of some travelling showman
of doubtful character, it would probably have been con-
sidered as fictitious as the mermaid, so often exhibited, and
which was formed of the fore part of a monkey, sewn upon
the tail of a shark.


ROPE BRIDGES—INDIA.

Tue engineers of this country are suppqsed to have
derived their ideas of supension-bridges from the rope bridges
of India, where in the mountainous districts they were in
use long before we became masters of the country. Turner,
in his account of the Alpine region to the north-east of
Hindustan, thus describes their structure over chasms;
“ Two ropes, commonly of rattan, or some stout and flexible
osier, are stretched from one mountain to another, and
encircled by a hoop of the same material. The passenger
places himeelf between them, sitting in the hoop, and
seizing a rope in each hand, slides himself along with
facility and speed over the tremendous abyss below.”

Our plate represents a bridge of this primitive order, the
crossing of which is sometimes attended with danger, from
the unwise traveller overloading himself with goods, #0 that
under the accumulated weight the rope eometimes breake,
and precipitates the individual headlong into the rushing
stream beneath. ‘i
66 ROPE BRIDGES—INDIA.

Wherever our engineers acquired the idea of a suspen
sion-bridge, either the magnificent fabric that crosses the
Menai Strait, or the light and elegant structure of tho
Hungerford Bridge, furnishes sufficient proof that they have
much advanced on the pattern, both as regards elegance
of appearance and safety in use. Indeed from the accounts
which travellers give, it must require no little nerve to trust
oues-self to the rickety things of rope that croea some of the
rivers in India. In the tour which Mr. Fraser took through
part of the snowy range of the Himalayan mountains, we
find him compelled to pass over one of these bridges, of
which he gives the following account :—

* At some convenient spot, where the river is rather
narrow, and the rocks on cither side overhang the stream, a
stout beam of wood is fixed horizontally upon or behind two
strong stakes, that are driven into the banks on each side
of the water, and round these beams ropes are strained,
extending from the one to the other across the river, and
they are hauled tight and kept in their place by a sort of
wiodlass. The rope used in forming the bridge is generally
from two to three inches in circumference, and at least nine
or ten times crossed, to make it secure. This collection of
ropes is traversed by a block of wood, hollowed into a
semicircular groove, large enough to slide easily along it;
and around thiv block, ropes are suspended, forming a loop
ROPE BRIDGES—INDLA $7

in which passengers seat themeolves, clasping its upper
parts with their hands, to keep themselves steady; a line
fixed to the wooden block at each end, and extending to
each bank, serves to haul it and the passenger attached to
it from one side of the river to the other. The j’hoola (as
the bridge is called) at Rhampore was somewhat formidable,
for the river tumbles beneath in a very awful way; and the
ropes, though they decline in the centre to the water, are
siill elevated from thirty to forty feet above it: tho span is
from ninety toa hundred yards. It was amusing enough
to see several of our low country attendants arming them-
sclves with courage to venture on this novel mode of transit;
and I must confess that, although it was evident that the
actual danger was emall, it was not without uncomfortable
feelings that I first launched out on the machine to cross
the Sutlej. We found, however, that accidents sometimes
occur; and it was scarcely twelve months since a Brahmin,
who had come from Cooloo, having loaded the ropes with
too great a weight of his goods, and accompanied them
himself, fell into the stream, was hurried away and dashed
to pieces.”

Occasionally a series of ropes are laid down, and cross
pieces of wood interwoven with them, constituting a plat-
form five or six feet wide; on either side of thie platform a
emall parapet of plankw is erected, and also fastened by.
68 ROPE BRIDGRS—INDIA

means of ropes. Even this kind of bridge is not safe, the
vibration being 80 great as to startle and terrify the most
quiet horse. When it is considered that the motion of the
bridge over the Menai Strait is very perceptible, even to a
single foot-passenger, though the weight of the structure is
somewhat more than six hundred and forty-three tons, it
will not excite surprise that the vibration of these frail rope
bridges approaches almost to violent agitation. A gentle-
man famous for his pursuit of field-eporte in India, describes
hie passage over one of them as most perilous. It hung
across the river like a cobweb in the air, and at a distance
bed a pretty and picturesque effect. When he came to
venture upon it, he found it very rickety; and wisely
determined to dismount before crossing it. Still it rocked
and vibrated in a manner that wae far from agreeable;
and his pony, though a mountaineer, crouched and shud-
dered as if he would lie down upon the bridge. An instance
is on record of an officer and a lady crossing one of these
bridges, and as a drove of cattle had passed just before,
they ventured upon it without any hesitation. They just
reached the centre when it suddenly gave way, and they
both were precipitated into the gulf below. The officer used
every effort to save his companion, but ia vain; with the
greatest difficulty he managed to save himeelf. She was
for @ moment seen on a rock in the channel, when a swell
ROPE BRIDGES—INDIA. Su

of the current ewept her away for ever. Such instances
are not of common occurrence, and the oatives pass and
repase daily on these seemingly unsafe fabrica, without any

apparent fear.
LONDON, PAST AND PRESENT.

How can we give an idea of London to one who has
never visited it, when some even of those who have spent
their lives in wandering amid its wilderness of houses have
never seen one half of its extent, and have still less know!l-
edge of its wealth, its commerce, and its population? An
intelligent Frenchman said very truly, “ It is not a town;
it is a province covered with houses.”

Before the era of railways, it used to grow by degrees
upon the country visitor as he approached its more con-
centrated masses of streets and houses, and his notions of
the great city had time to accommodate themselves grad-
ually to the real state of things. As he rolled along the
turnpike-road outside some well-appointed “four-horse
coach,” he saw before him for half a day before he had
reached his destination, a long, low, dingy cloud in the
distant horizon, which the coachman’s whip would point out
as “London smoke.” There it hung; visible, while yet he
was apens breezy commons of heath and furze, or under


Ancient mode of Lighting London.
LONDON, PAST AND PRESENT Co

waving boughs that shadowed the dasty road. As he
rolled along,—instead of detached villages or well-defined
towns, separated by long intervals of field, and common, and
copee, enlivened here and there with the detached farm-
houses, barns, and road-side inns, the country gentle-
man’s mansion, and the gipsy’s tent—the road became
all village, one joining on to another in quick succession,
sadly taxing the memory of the bewildered traveller, who
had hitherto asked most perseveringly the name of each
town he had pafsed through. He seemed, for the first
time, to be in two places at once—in one locality before
he was out of another.

On he rolled, and the continuous village became a
town; the road gradually concentrated into a street, and
his “long coach,” with its fleet four-in-hand, (the pro-
prietor’s “crack team,” to drive through London with,)
threaded its mazy way amidst shoals of-strange and ra-
rious vehiclea, and looked superior to them all. There
were the lambering omnibus, the busy scrambling cab, the
elegant carriage, with splendid hammer-cloth and be-
wigged and liveried coachmen and flunkies—gigs, phae-
tons, and market-carts, drays, vans, and wagons of all
shapes and dimensions, and still the confusion grew more
dissy and confounding, till a jarring crash upon the
toy LONDON, PAST AND PRESENT.

paved street aroused the bewildered traveller, and told him
that he had at length reached the stony heart of London.
Bat, alas! with few and rare exceptions, “we have
changed all that” for the railway and the steam-engine.
Onward, onward. still we press, faster and faster yet.
But now, and the varied sights of rural life were flitting
by us in quick succession, ench no sooner glanced at than
it is gone; a moment more, and in its place, as by some
magic process, there is the glare of shops, the rattle of
wheels, the busy hum of myriads of Haman beings—the
ceaseless roar of the mightiest city of the earth !

Hill and dale, hedge-row and heath, the cottage with
roses, the meadow and its quiet herd, “ forty feeding like
one,” the shepherd and his flock, the mansion in stately
solitude, with all its tall and ancestral trees, all these, and
more, were before the traveller a.moment since, and seem
before him still, mingling in strange confusion with the
Great Babel into which he is so suddenly planged, while,
confused by the abrupt contrast of sights and sounds
which greet him, he gazes with blank amaze on all
around, scarce knowing what he sees or what he hears.

London was an important city—the capital of England
—a thousand years ago; and it has been growing, and
spreading. and condensing,.almost without a check, from
LONDON, PAST AND PRESENT. 65

that day to this. Growing for a thousand years, and
growing still, faster than ever! Still creeping along the
banks of that noble river, to the depth and security of
whose waters the city owes its rise, its increase, and its
prosperity.

The marsh through which Cesar und his legions waded
has long given place to the busy wharf, with its piles of
merchandise from every clime, its huge masees of ware-
houses, dark and lofty, beneath whose shadow crowd the
barge and the steamboat. The streams to which Saxon
maidens were wont to resort “to gather simples,” now
grope, their subterranean way beneath halls devoted to
trade and commerce, and the administration of justice;
the resort of the merchant-princes of England ; the sanc-
tuary for the vast treasures of the Bank of England, and
its numerous satellites of Lombard-street ; and the palace
of the chief magistrate of England’s and the world’s chief
city. The forest, where once ranged the wild boar, the
wolf, and the antlered stag, has given place to the picture-
gallery and the triumphal column ; to the square, the ter-
race, and the crescent, with their luxurious mansions,
tenanted by nobles and senators ; to long vistas of streets
in endless succession, dazzling with wealth and splendor
unknown to Rome or Babylon of old.
66 LONDON, PAST AND PRESENT.

Nearly a thousand years ago (in a. p. 685) London, .
which had been -sacked and burned by the Danes, was
being rebuilt by King Alfred, whose galleys rode, un-
checked by a single bridge, along the Thames, when now
his waters reflect many an arch of granite of iron, above
whose crown ebbs and flows a tide as ceaseless as that
which glides beneath its shadow.

For nearly two hundred years after the time of Alfred,
Saxon and Dane struggled for the realm of England, with
various success. But amid the fierce conflicts London
still grew on, and when King Harold (in 1066) passed
through the city on his hurried march to the fatal field of
Hastings, he dispatched from London seven hundred
vessels to intercept the Norman invaders in the flight so
fondly and so vainly anticipated by the too confiding
Saxons. And when Duke William, after his great vic-
tory, appeared before the city, the warlike population,
numerous even then, defended the walls; and the con-
queror, compelled to abandon his idea of obtaining instant
possession of the capital, ravaged the surrounding country,
intercepted the communication with the Saxons of the
north, and® cut off the supplies, until the citizens,
threatened with the horrors of famine, and discour-
aged by the supineness and incapacity of the Saxon
LONDON, PAST AND PRESENT 67

earis and thanes, made terms with William, at Berkhamp-
stead.

Passing by another two hundred years—through the
horrible oppressions of the early Norman kings, the de-
vastating wars of Stephen and Matilda, and the Crusades
—we come to the era of Magna Charta; and find a par-
liament at Westminster struggling with the weak and un-
popular Henry IIl., the king promising redress of griev-
anc 3s in hopes of obtaining supplies, and the parliament
withbolding, until they have some better security than the
word of a king, which had been so often violated. Once,
in his need, he was counselled to sell all his plate and
jewels. “Who will buy them?” said he. “The citizens
of London, of course,” was the reply. “By my troth,”
said Henry, bitterly, “if the treasures of Augustus’ were
put up to sale, the citizens would be the purchasers!
These clowns, who assume the style of barons, abound in
all things, while we are wanting common necessaries.”
From this time the king was more than ever inimical to
the city, and to injure its commerce, (then amid wars, and
plunder, and oppression—as now in peace and security—
the source of all its wealth,) Henry established a fair at
Westminster, which was to last fifteen days, daring which
all trading was prohibited in London. What is now
6s LONDON, PAST AND PRESENT.

Charing Cross was then a village in the fields, midway
between the rival cities, which have long since mingled
into one.

In 1218 the forest of Middlesex was cleared, and the
citizens of London were allowed to build there. The
Tower and old London Bridge in the east, and West-
minster Abbey in the west, were the principal buildings of
this era which have existed till owr day.

Through the next two hundred years the wealth wd
trade of London continued steadily to increase. [he
citizens obtained from the mighty Plantagenets privileges
and rights,in exchange for the loans by which only those
warlike sovereigns were enabled to carry on their con-
quests in France; and amidst the brilliant but useless
glories of Cregy, and Poitiers, and Agincourt, London
carried on a profitable and increasing trade with Flanders
—with the extensive and fertile provinces in southern and
western France, which owned allegiance to the English
crowo—with Spain ond the Mediterranean. southward—
and as far northward as the Baltic. The civil wars of the
Roses, like the foreign ones with France, gave but little
interruption to the progress of London, which generally
supported the House of York; the princes of which
family relied less on the power of the barons than on that
LONDON, PAST AND PRESENT. 00

of the commons, whose favor they courted, and whose
privileges they increased and confirmed on many occasions.

Lanterns were first hung out of citizens’ houses in the
principal streets in 1416; before, and even after that time,
watchmen with fire-baskets, such as are represented in
the cat, kept watch through the night before the houses
of the nobility and at other important stations.

Year after year rolled on; wooden houses were replaced
by those of brick; old streets were paved and widened,
. aud new streets stretched into the fields in every direc-
tion; wharves and warehouses were built by the river
side; churches and palaces arose in every quarter; the
population rapidly increased; and two or three hundred
years ago, when London was not half its present size, suc-
cessive sovereigns issued proclamations and edicts, for-
bidding any further increase to a city, which was even
then thought to have extended beyond all bounds of rea-
son and safety.

In the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries the improve-
ments and increase continued. The Royal Exchange was
built; the new river supplied individual houses in the
metropolis with water; sewers were dug; and hackney-
coaches plied the streets for hire. The great plague,
speedily followed by the great fire of London in 1666,
70 LONDON, PAST AND PRESENT.

checked the progress of the city, but only to enable it to
advance more rapidly and more sately. The latter event,.
whioh destroyed all the most densely-built portions of the
metropolis, enabled Sir Christopher Wren, although he
was not allowed to carry out his plan of improvement to
the desired extent, to change its appearance and charac-
ter—by wider streets, better built houses, and more com-
plete draining. In consequence of these improvements,
the health of the inhabitants was greatly promoted. The
plague, which until then had constantly lurked about the
back streets and narrow lanes by the water's side, and
which on particular occasions burst out with depopulating
violence, was no longer a recognised visitor; and the
virulence of other diseases was much abated.
Nevertheless, great as was this advance, the contrast
between the London of a hundred years ago and the
London of the present day is as great. The fathers of
many now living, could remember seeing the heads of the
Scotch lords, who had risen in arms for the Stuarts, rotting
on Temple-bar, telling a disgraceful tale of barbarous
and pitifal revenge, unworthy of a Christian government
and people. The dim oil lamps, which just rendered
visible the darkness of night, winked at many a deed of
violence and outrage, which the broad glare of the gas
LONDON, PAST AND PRESENT. 71

lights (first used in Pall Mall, in 1816) has scared away.
Within the last fifty years have been formed the docks and
their surrounding warehouses, which now line the river
for six miles below London Bridge, and afford accommo-
dation for vessels of the largest size; the hage Indiaman
from either hemisphere, with suger, cotton, tea, silk,
spices, &c.; the splendidly fitted American packets;
the wool-ships of Australia; the whalers from Green-
land and the Antarctic; timber ships from Canada and
the Baltic; mixed fleets of smaller vessels from every
coast.

Fifty years ago, and the power of steam to propel
vessels in spite of wind and tide, was treated as a chimera
too absurd for experiment; and now hundreds of steamers,
of every size, with their black chimneys and long streams
of smoke, wend their swift way along old Father Thames,
churning his waters, and raising on bis bosom a mimic
sea, whose heaving wave bids dance the light wherry as
it skims along, meets the cumbrous barge with alternate
heave and plunge, and dashes in foam against the tiers of
merchantmen fast anchored in the stream. Still more
recently the railroad, with all its wonders, stretches from
the city in every direction, and encloses a wider and yet
wider circuit of provinces in its embrace, uatil it bids the
73 LONDON, PAST AND PRESENT.

remotest corner of the isle give quick response to every
pulsation of the “mighty heart” of London.

The population of the metropolis, (including by that
term the cities of London and Westminster, the five par-
liamentary boroughs, and the parish of Chelsea,) is now
nearly two millions, equal to the united population of the
four largest cities on the continent of Europe; namely,
Paris, Petersburg, Naples, and Vienna; and of these five
Paris has nearly double the number of inhabitants of the
largest of the remainder, containing 910,000, while Peters-
burg has 470,000, Vienna and Naples each about 350,000
ipbabitants.

The immense population of the capital of the British
empire consumes every year at least 1,200,000 quarters of
wheat, about 1} million of sheep, nearly 200,000 bullocks,
25,000 calves, 25,000 pigs; besides poultry, game, fish,
vegetables, and fruit in incalculable quantities. About
12,000 cows supply the citizens daily with milk ; 72 mil-
lions of gallons of porter and ale are annually drunk in
London ; half the newspapers in the United Kingdom are
printed there. The eight great water-companies supply
about 200,000 houses with nearly 250 millions of gallons
of water yearly. About 90,000 gas lights are nightly lit,
and consume on the average 10 millions of cubic feet of
LONDON, PAST AND PRESENT. 78

gas every twenty-four hours. But we might fill a volame
with mere glimpses of this wonderful city—such volumes
exist—and yct before a visitor can form an adequate idea
of its size and its population, its abounding wealth and
its squalid poverty, its contrasts of magnificence and
wretchedness, he must have persevered day after day in
exploring its various quarters, mixed with all classes of
society, inspected its hospitals and its mansions, its picture-
galleries and its temples, its docks and its bridges, its dark
corners of crime and misery, its splendid exhibitions of
wealth and taste; and if he have a heart to feel and a
head to think, he will go to his rural home with food for
meditation for many days, a wiser, and, if he improve his
opportunities, a better man.
A WARROW VILLAGE—GUIANA.

In the northwest of South America, between the great
rivers Oronoco and Amazon, is the Warrow country—a
land, in some respects, similar to that of Ashantee, de-
scribed in another chapter. The vegetation is equally
luxuriant, but the climate is less deadly ; the inhabitants
have not the wild and savage energy of the Ashantees,
but having all the necessaries of life at hand, without the
need of cultivating the soil, they indulge in a luxurious
indolence, which is equally unfavorable to their advance-
ment in civilization.

A considerable portion of the country is under water
for three-fourths of the year, and from this circumstance
the Warrows are almost amphibious. They build their
habitations about four feet from the ground, upon the
stems of eta-trees, which grow in very thick clusters.
Many of these huts are very large, being capable of ac-
commodating one hundred and fifty people, who are all
slung aa _bamuooks, which serve them both for bed and
A WARROW VILLAGE, GUIANA 75

chair, and are, in fact, almost the only farniture they use
or require. At night, a fire made close to the hammock,
envelops it in smoke, which keeps off the swarms of
moschetoes and sand-flies that infest this land of mud,
and slime, and water, and overhanging boughs; and in
this cleud the Warrow, from long use, luxuriates where
we should be more than half blinded and suffocated.

The waters flowing beneath and around the floor of
their abodes abound with fish, which forms the chief food
of the people, almost all of whose industry and ingenuity
are displayed in the construction of their canoes, and the
singular abodes we have described.
THE AFRICAN KING.

Waarever authority this king may have over his people
certainly does not appear to be derived from the splendor
of his apparel. Crown he has none, save the one taft of
hair left upon his else bare scalp ;—the spear on which he
leans is his only sceptre, and one cannot imagine a sover-
eign with bare legs and naked feet bestowing upon any
of his subjects the insignia of the order of the garter.
Wevertheless he may be every inch a king, and as such he
nay be introduced to the reader. This is Moselekatse,
King of the Amazooloo, and first made known to English-
men by Captain Harris, in a most interesting book of
Travels in Southern Africa.

Moselekatse possessed a fine, tall, well-proportioned
figure, with rather a pleasing countenance, although
marked with wily cunning and suspicion ; with a small
piercing eye, surmounted by an ample forehead. He
certainly looks like one whose courage and energy mark
him oe a king among the men of a wild and savage

THE AFRICAN KING. 72

race ; prompt, stern, and unyielding, his orders are such
as ensure swift obedience ; cautious and slow in speech,
but rapid and fiery in action; reserved in manner and
dignified in aspect. Such are the men who, in the early
and ruder stages of society, place themselves at the head
of their people, and by their rugged virtues, and even by
the peculiar character of their vices, help forward that
onward movement of the human race, which, in spite of
“many checks and hinderances, of many temporary and
partial backslidings, is yet real all the world over. To
use Macaulay’s noble image,—“ the tide of civilization is
advancing, though each single wave may retreat as jt
breaks upon the shore.” But to return to Moselekatse.
His costume is a simple girdle, made of leopards’ tails,
dangling before and behind ; a few beads round his neck
complete his toilet. Captain Harris presented the king
with a duffel greatcoat, a coil of brass wire, a mirror
two.pounds of “Irish blackguard” snuff, and fifty pounds
weight of blood red beads. “Hitherto the king had con-
sidered it beneath his dignity to evince the slightest symp-
tom of astonishment. His maffner had been particularly
guarded and sedate, nor had it been possible to read in
his countenance aught that was passing in his bosom;
but the sight of so many fine things at once threw his
80 THE AFRICAN KING.

decorum off the balance, and caused him for a moment
to forget what he owed to himself in the presence of so
large an assembly. Putting his thumb between his teeth,
and opening his eyes to their utmost limits, he grinned
like a school-boy at the sight of gingerbread, and ex-
claimed repeatedly, ‘ Monante, monante, monante : tanta,
tanta, tanta!’ (Good, good, good; bravo, bravo, bra
vo !)

“He now rose abruptly, big with some great conception,
and made signs to the parsee to approach and assist him
on with the coat, habited in which he strutted several
times up and down, viewing his grotesque figare in the
glass with evident self-applause. He then desired Mo-
hanycour to put it on and turn about, that he might see
if it fitted behind: and this knotty point settled to his un-
qualified satisfaction, he suddenly cast off his leopards’
tails, and commanded all hands to assist in the difficult
task of shaking him into tartan trousers. It was indeed
.no easy work to perform ; ‘but once accomplished, his ma-
jesty cut a noble figure. The parsee wore a pair of red
silk braces which he presehtly demanded, observing that
they would supply the place of those which Mrs. Moffutt
had forgotten to send. Shortly after this he directed an
attendant, who was crouching at his feet, to take every
THE AFRICAN KING. 81

thing to his kraal, and sesuming his solemnity and his
seat, tea was brought in.”

Thus far Captain Harris; and yet this man, at whose
simplicity and ignorance our very children might laugh,
has authority greater than that of any European despot.
He alone in his kingdom is rich ; his subjects are all equal-
ly poor; the whole wealth of the state centres in him ;
he has the power of life and death; und all that his peo-
ple have to do is to submit to his decrees.

It is well for the sovereign, and well also for the sub-
jects, wagn by a nation’s advancement in civilization its
rulers need no longer be exposed to the temptations and
responsibilities of unlimited power—when the well-being
of society depends less upon the character and energy of
an individual ruler, than upon the general advancement
of his people in virtue and knowledge.
THE LAND’S END, AND THE CORNISH WRECKERS.

“ Where England, stretch’d towards the eetting ean,
Narrow and long, o’erlooks the western wave.”

Coaywatt is the most western county of England, and
at the extreme point of Cornwall, “stretched,” as the poet
says, “ towards the setting sun,” is the long, rocky promon-
tury, known as the Land’s End. Here the bilfOws of the
Atlantic, rolling over an abyss, unchecked by rock or shoal,
for three thousand miles, first meet a barrier, against which
they dash tumultuously; whilst their spray, borne on the
wings of the swift western gale, flies far inland, covering
all things with its salt rime. The cliffs at the Land’s
End, like those at Staffa and the Giant’s Causeway,
abound, though not to the same extent or perfection, with
basaltic columns, which are sbout sixty feet in height.
On the Long Ships’ Rocks, about a mile from the main-
land, is crected a lighthouse, with a fixed light, which is
elevated about ninety feet above high-water mark, and
gives Henny warning to vessels sailing along these dan-

THE LAND’S END, 66

gerous coasts. The people of Cornwall had once a most
unenviable reputation for their barbarous inhospitality
towards those who were so unfortunate as to be wrecked
on their shores. Strange as it may seem, the cry of “A
wreck! a wreck !” was hailed with joy by all, from the
highest to the lowest, who ficcked to the beach at the
welcome news, and plundered, without the least regard to
the rights of the shipwrecked, all that was thrown on
shore by the waves. This inhospitable robbery was too
often accompanied by murder, provoked, perhaps, in some
instances, by the expostulations or struggles of the sur-
vivors of the ship, to retain what they most reason@bly
looked upon as their own property. Meanwhile, the
Cornish men, calling the wreck “a God-send,” looked
upon all goods stranded upon their coast as their especial
property, bestowed upon them by the direct interposition
of Providence, and were ready to resent as an insult any
opposition to their claim. Many are the tales told—fre-
quently mingling the horrible and the ludicrous—of scenes
at a shipwreck on the coast of Cornwall. Of these, some
may have been exaggerated, but they had doubtless some
foundation in the general state of public opinion in the
country upon this subject. Witness Peter Pindar’s story
of the minister, who was preaching on the sabbath, when
86 AND THE CORNISH WRECKERS.

the cry of “A wreck! a wreck I” was heard without the
church. The congregation, as by an uncontrcllable im-
pulse, rose hastily, and rushed towards the door, to share
in the expected spoil. The minister in vain endeavored
to restrain them, till, finding all efforts vain, he too yielded
to the all-besetting sin, and, in the words of the witty, but
irreverend poet,

“ Stop, stop!” cried he, “at least one prayer—
Let me get down, and all start fair!”

And yet, on other occasions, the Cornish people were
by no means wanting in hospitality to strangers, and the
exercise of all the kindly, social virtues. The same men
who would appropriate, without regard to the rights or
expostulations of the owners, all property strewn upon the
beach, would welcome the bewildered traveller to his
home at night, bring out his best glass of “yell,” give up,
his own bed to the stranger, and guide him on his way
over the moor, with kindly warning of the numerous shafts
and pitfalls that beset this land of mines.

It is to be hoped, however, that the “ wreckers of Corn-
wall” are a by-gone race—that the opprobrium no longer
clings to their name. The exertions of the Wesleyan
ministers, and the diffusion of education and habits of
THE LAND’ UND, a7

reading, have done much to humanize the Cornish charac
ter; the peculiar feature of which might, perhaps, be ex-
plained, and in part excused, by reference to history.

in the dark night of ignorance, cruelty, and wrong.
which settled over Europe upon the downfall of the Romun
empire, trade and commerce were almost annihilated.
No longer did the peaceful mariner from Spain or the
Mediterranean visit the bays of Cornwall, to exchange the
food and clothing of the south for the tredsures of the earth
—tin, and copper, and silver ore. The dreaded sea-kings
rode triumphant on every sea, and scourged, with rapine
and plunder, all the coasts of Europe. At this period
Cornwall was crowded with descendants of the ancient
Britons; who, after long and obstinate contests, were
driven, by the successive hordes of the conquering Saxons,
from the eastern and central portions of the island, and
found refuge in the fastnesses of Wales, Cumberland, and
Cornwall. The Saxons, and their kindred successors, the
Danes, were accustomed, in their slight galleys, to sail up
the creeks and rivers; and when the force opposed to
their inroad, or the uninviting aspect of the country,
forbade a permanent settlement, they ravaged the district
with fire and sword, and regained their ships, laden with
all the spoil they could carry away. The Celts of Corn-
68 AND THE CORNISH WRECKERS.

wall, cooped up in their narrow boundaries, which, at the
same time, concentrated their forces, and enabled them,
like their Welch brethren, to retain their distinct national
existence as Britons throughout the times of Saxon rule,
soon had too good cause to look upon every sea-borne
vessel as a cruel enemy, whose approach was to be
opposed, and whose destruction was to be sought by all
good patriots; and if, by any chance, one of the Saxon
or Danish galleys was wrecked on their coast, it was
naturally looked upon as but a righteous retribution for
the oppressions they and their brethren had endured, and
its plunder as but a slight return for treasures they them-
selves had been despoiled of. And for ages after circum-
stances had changed, and when a happier era began
to dawn, a blind and cruel selfishness, choking all the
kinder, gentler feelings, kept alive in this remote corner
of our isle a practice which originated in national hostili-
ty ; and that which began in the resistance of a people to
oppression and a reprisal for outrage, degenerated into
private and indiscriminate plunder, too often aggravated
»y cold-blooded treachery and murder; making our west-
ern shores a by-word and an opprobium to all the world.
And, as if it were not enough to rob the poor mariner,
whom the winds and waves have thrown upon their ahores,
THE LANDS END, 0

there were to be found in Cornwall wretches base enough
to mislead, by false signal-lights, vessele that approached
the coast by night, and lure them, and all their crew, upon
the rocks.

Long ago I heard a Cornish tale, which, once heard,
is not easily forgotten. After a sultry autamn day, the
blood-red sun sunk beneath a sea of crimson, which grada-
ally deepened into molten lead; and, as the daylight
faded, a dark bank of clouds rose in the west, and blotted
out star after star, almost ere it had twinkled through the
twilight. An old man, whose dwelling was on the sea-
shore, beneath the cliffs, looked out upon the darkening
face of the sea, with an eager, anxious glance, that swept
the horizon. There had not been a breath of air stirring
all day; but now, low moanings foretold a rising gale,
and the lightning, distant as yet, and voiceless, glim-
mered through the dark caverns of thick cloud, which
overspread the sky, and deepened, by momentary con-
trast, the solemn blackness of the night. Fur seaward,
a faint strip of dull red sky in the horizon revealed the
tall masts of a gallant ship, which had been all day slowly
working her tedious way up the Channel on her homeward
course. The old man had watched her for many hours
before sunset, and he chuckled as he saw, ere the !ast dim
90 AND THE CORNISH WRECKERS.

line of western light had faded, that she was gradually
nearing the coast; and he noticed, with horrid glee, the
threatenings of the coming storm. He called to his old
wife for his lantern, went to a crazy and ruinous shed, and
led out a half-starved horse, which he led by the halter
along the beach. At a ravine in the cliffs he turned with
his horse, and began to ascend a winding and dangerous
path’ to the top of the precipice. There he lighted his lan-
tern and fastened it to the horse’s head, and then, for
three or four hours of the night, he led the unconscious
animal backward and forward along the edge of the
cliffs. By this time the lightning flashed frequent and
fierce ; the thunder rolled and rattled directly overhead ;
the rain poured down like a flood; and the sea, which all
day had heaved sluggishly, and heavily broke upon the
rocks, was now roused into fury by the rising gale which
swept along its bosom. Still the old man pursued his
walk along the cliffs, and ever and anon looked keenly
and anxiously through the darkness upon the now raging
sea beneath. Hark !—surely that thunder came not from
the clouds—that flash was no lightning’s stroke. It is—
yes—it is the cannon of the fated ship, the well-known
signal of distress; and the old man’s fiendish nature re-
joiced at the thought that his decoy-light had answered
“THE LAND’S END, 91

ite object. Again and again that sound boomed along
the waters; for all too late the mariners discover that
they are embayed; that rocks and breakers are round
them, and the gale is driving them quickly to the shore ;
that the false light, which had appeared to them as
that of a tall ship tossing on the sea, was displayed
to lure them to destruction. Again and again the guh is
fired, and still the’ old man rejoices in the success of his
horrid stratagem, and calculates, with horrid accuracy,
the spot and the moment for the fated vessel striking
on the rocks. As the time approaches, he descends the
cliffs, and takes his station on the beach to watch for
whatever the raging waves may cast on shore. And soon
there is heard-a crash, louder than the strife of elements
—a shriek, far above the roar of waters—but sil the
wrecker shrinks not from the horrors of his own dark
deed, yet shrouded by the tempest and the night. Day
Aawns at length, and shows to his greedy eyes the beach
strewn with fragments of the wreck, which the yet heaving
billows are still bearing shoreward and dashing on the
rocks. Presently, the old man .is bending over the body
of a drowned man; for his avaricious glance has detected
on the finger of the dead a gold ring, with a bright gem
glittering in the early dawn. Hastily and eagerly the
2 AND THE CORNISH WRECKERS.

hardened plunderer drags away the ring from the un-
resisting hand, and, by the act, the face of the dead man
is turned upward and meets the eye of his murderer.
In that moment's glance, horror and despair have taken
the place of greedy joy—the color forsakes his quivering
lip—the dearly-purchased gem drops from his unconscious
grasp, and, 4s he sinks to the earth beside the corpse, he
gasps out-—*“ My son! my son !”

It was too true. The old man’s only son had left his
home in early youth, disgusted with the vices that dis-
graced his home; and with hardly-earned riches and
honors, which he fondly anticipated might be the means
of rescuing his patent from the course of guilt and
depravity in which he had grown gray. he was returning
to his Mtive land—to perish thus! Il-fated son of a yet
more wretched sire—the murderer and the plunderer of his
only child !

Seek not to lift the veil that covers the horrors of his .
late remorse, but rejoice in the belief that the Cornish
wrecker is the creature of a by-gone age.


ef.

Ashantee Chi

94

-
THE ‘ASHANTEE CHIEF.

To compare the manners and customs of different na-
tions, the countries which they inhabit, their climates and
. productions, is always interesting ; and we have here as
great a contrast as could well be imagined, to the far-clad
dwellers among the snow-plains and icebergs of Boothia
Felix, in the fiery Ashantee, from the burning coast of
Africa.

The land of Ashantee forms the northern shore of the
Gu]f of Guinea, into which its numerous rivers “roll
down the golden sand.” The deep shade of huge forests
overhangs their banks, beneath which lurks many a
monster of the deep :—the huge hippopotamus, the cruel
and crafty alligator, and, deadlier still than any living foe,
the fatal African fever.

There, as the night, chilly with heavy dews, gives way
to morning, a stifling and sulphureous mist rises from the
river’s slime, and from the immense accumulation of the
quickly-decaying vegetation ; it creeps along the valleys
and the courses of the streams, until cove uewan by
06 THE ASHANTEE CHIEF.

the increasing heat ; and then the fierce sun of the tropics
beats upon the fevered head of the fated traveller. Day
fades at once into darkness, without the gradual twilight
of our temperate zone, and, with night, again returns the
cold and aguish dew. Oh, it is indeed a horrible climate
for Europeans, and well has the coast of Central Africa
merited the name of “The White Man's Grave!” And
we are apt to wonder how it is possible that man can
inhabit such a land, and that he does not abandon it to
the wild beasts which prow! and roar around his villages
at night, and lie hid in the depths of gloomy woods by
day. Not so, however, does the Ashantee chief think of
his country ; for He whose command, in the early days of
man’s creation, was “to replenish the earth and subdue
it,” bas implanted in the human breast an instinctive at-
tachment to the country of our birth; and having spread
abroad the sons of men over al! quarters of the globe, has
given them a capacity for happiness under all climes,
which perpetuates and ensures the fulfilment of His origi-
nal command.

“ But where to find that hepplest spot below?
‘Who can direct when all pretend to know?
‘The shuddering tenant of the frigid sone
Boldly proclaims the happlest spot hie own ;
Eixtels the treasures of bis stormy seas,

And his long nights of revelry and ease.

The naked negro, panting at the line,

Boasts of his golden sands and palmy wine ;
Beaks in the glare, or stems the tepid wave,
And thanks his gods for all the good they guve.
Suoh be the patrict’s boast, where’er we roam,
Fils firt, best country ever le at home.”

Bat we must not leave the Ashantee chief without a
lictle more information about him and his father-land.
The interior is not nearly so unhealthy as the coasts,
although even there immense forests cover the face of the
country, which becomes mountainous as we proceed in-
land. The trees are of stupendous growth, and of endless
variety :—the gigantic boabab—the mangrove and the
palm, mingled with a wild entanglement of thorny under-
wood, skirt the margins of the rivers :—the elegant tulip-
tree, aloes, and citrons, of various kinds, and whole forests
of trees, elsewhere unknown, diversify the interior. The
sugar-cane grows wild, fruits without end abound, and
“ flowers worthy of paradise,” of a splendor and magnifi-
cence anknown in our conservatories, and surpassed by
the prodactions of no country in the world, are scattered in
wild profasion. >
08 THE ASHANTEE CHIEF

Thus stimulated alternately by the glowing sun and
the deluges of the rainy season, (the only winter of the
tropical regions,) the rank and teeming soil of Ashantee
gives birth, in rich abundance, to the noblest forms and
brightest colors of vegetable life.

Nor are its animals less various or numerous. Among
them are the elephant, the rhinoceros, and the giraffe.
monkeys of various sizes and sorts, the porcupine, the
sloth, and the civet-cat, the lordly lion, the beautiful but
cruel tiger, leopards, wolves, and jackals.

Reptiles are prodigiously numerous :—serpents of every
size, from the common boa to one not a yard: long, but
exceedingly venomous, infest not only the woods and long
grass, but the dwellings of the natives, and the forts of
European settlers. Scorpions and centipedes, toads and
frogs of an enormous size, and lizards in great variety
abound. .

Birds “ of every wing,” too numerous to mention, (and
some indeed as yet unnamed by naturalists,) few of which
are of tuneful voice, but the greater proportion of ex-
quisitely brilliant plumage, flit across the dim twilight of
the woods, dive into the waters, or wing their bolder flight
beneath the glowing skies of Ashantee.

Amidst scenes like these. of wild and rank luxuriance
THE ASHANTEE CHIEF. 98,

—with nature, animate and inanimate, exhibited in a
mingled aspect of savage gloom and dazzling splendor—
with beauty and loathsomeness, and magnificence and
death side by side—man seems to partake of the character
of the clime.

With passions fierce and unrestrained, the ‘Ashantees
are yet enterprising, intelligent, cleanly, and industrious,
far beyond most of the negro race ; among whom they are
pre-eminent for their advancement in the useful arts.
Their plantations are laid out with order and neatness ;
the native weavers manafacture clothing, as fine in text-
ure and as brilliant in color as many of thé products of an
English factory. The houses, generally thatched, and of
one story, are neatly built, and the walls are ornamented
with rude hieroglyphic sculptures. Their markets are
well provided and regulated, and their dress, especially
that of the higher orders, is tastefully arranged and orna
mented “with pomp barbaric, gems and gold,” of native
produce, and by native artists.

On the other hand, the Ashantee delights in the blood
of his fellow-man, which is poured forth like water, not
only in the heat of battle, but at every occasion of rejoicing
or of mourning. The death of a free Ashantee is, in al-
most all cases, attended by a sacrifice of human life, “to
‘100 THE ASHANTEE CHIEF.

wet the grave,” as they term it; and the slaughter is great
in proportion to the rank of the deceased. On all publio
occasions, but especially at their two great annual festivals,
the most brutal drunkenness stimulates all the bad pas-
sions of man, till the whole population seems wrought up
to the very pitch of madness and cruelty. The greater
proportion of the population are slaves, whose numbers,
as they are thinned by oppression at home, and by sale
to the yet more guilty European man-stealer, are recruited
by fresh arrivals of prisoners taken in their constant wars
with neighboring tribes. The government is a tyranny,
cemented by blood and supported by confiscation; their
religion, a degrading and bloody superstition.

And yet, while we thus describe, in terms of abhorrence,
his character and habits, let us remember—and the re-
flection may rightly mitigate the severity of our judgment
of the poor Ashantee—that but a few centuries ago and
such a picture as this would have been almost exactly
epplicable to our pagan forefathers, whether of British or
of Saxon race. Such as the Ashantee is now, such were
our ancestors twelve hundred years ago—ignorant, crafty,
cruel, and revengeful.

The human sacrifices in the Druid’s wicker idol—the
wild revelry and fiendish cruelty of the sea-kings—the
fHE ASHANTEE CHIEF. 101

feasts of Victory, where blood was mingled with the
draughts of intoxication, and the skull of the slain was the
goblet—the imaged halls of Valhalla, where the Saxon or
Danish warrior hoped to revel for ever with Odin and his
peers, in @ continuation of the mingled debauchery and
bloodshed which had marked his earthly career :—what is
there worse than these in the practices and superstition of
the modern Ashantee? And why, contrasting the English-
man of the present day with his barbarous ancestors,
should we despair of the ultimate advancement of the now
benighted African to the light of civilization, to the purity
of Christianity? And though this, like many other of the
dark places of the earth, be “full of the habitations of
cruelty,” why should we doubt that the light of the glorious
Gospel of God will, in his own good time, shine in ° °
hearts and dispel the darkness ?
EDDYSTONE LIGHTHOUSE.

You have just read an allusion to the accidents to
which ships are liable; and the melancholy loss of the
President was mentioned as having occurred in the midst
of the vast ocean. But generally there is much more dan-
ger for a ship when near land, than when far out at seo;
because the waves, though ever so large, may toss her
about without hurting her; but if she once touches the
rocks, she is almost sure to become a wreck. The danger
is greatest, when the mariners, coming in from a long
voyage, approach the shore in the dark night, because they
cannot see where the rocks lie. To give fem assistance,
therefore, in this case, lighthouses nre built upon the most
dangerous rocks, and very bright lights are kept burning

every night, which can be seen a long way off, and warn
102

EDDYSTONE LIGHTHOUSE. 106

the seamen of the peril in time. The most celebrated is
the Eddystone Lighthouse, which is on a rock near Ply-
mouth. You perceive, by the engraving, that it is built in
the form of the trun of a tree, being broad at the bottom
and tapering upwards. It is made exceedingly strong, a
great part of it being of solid stone; the chamber at the
top is cnlled the lantern; a very bright light is kept within
it all night, increased by bejng reflected from hollow sil.
vered plates. It has been built nearly a hundred years,
and is the third lighthouse that has been erected. on the
-same rock. The first was built about a hundred and fifty’
years ago, by a gentleman who was so confident of ity
strength, that he said, very foolishly, “I should like to be in
this lighthouse in the most violent storm that ever blew.”
Soon afterwards he happened to be in it, making some
repuirs, when a very dreadful storm came .on, and raged
all night, and in the morning the rock was seen to be
quite bare, every trace of the lighthouse being washed
away, and himself and his workmen all drowned. A
amall piece of a chain was the only thing left te tell that
106 EDDYSTONE LIGHTHOUSE.

there had ever been a building there; and this was so
firmly wedged into a crevice of the rock that it could not
be moved, but was cut out about fifty years afterwards,
when the foundation of the present lighthouse was being
prepared.

Very soon after this unfortunate event, a large East
Indiaman was wrecked on this rock in a dark night, and
her crew drowned. Another lighthouse was in conse-
quence erected immediately, which stood, in spite of wind
and wave, for about fifty years, and might have remained
until now, had it not been destroyed by fire. It was light-
ed by twenty-four large candies, and three men constantly
resided in it to attend to them. One night as the light-
keeper was going in to trim the candles, he was alarmed
by finding the chamber full of smoke, which soon broke
into a flame: the men endeavored to put it out with
buckets of water; but as these had to be carried from the
rock up to the lantern, a height of seventy feet, it could
not be expected that they could be of much use. The
fire quickly gained upon the men, and drove them down
EDDYSTONE LIGHTHOUSE. 107

to the rock; before this, however, as one of them, a man
of ninety-four years.of age, was looking up, a quantity of
melted lead from the roof fell upon his face, severely
scalding him. When brought to the land, this poor old
man continued very ill, and it was his firm persuasior
that some of the melted lead had actually gone down his
throat, as he stood gazing upward with open mouth.
The medical men thought this impossible; but at length
the old man died, and on being opened, an oval plate of
lead was found in his stomach, which weighed more than
seven ounces.

Both of these lighthouses were made principally of
‘wood ; but Mr. Smeaton, a very skilful engineer, thought
it practicable to build one of stone, which he accordingly
did immediately after the burning of the former one,
All the lower part was made quite solid; and the lowest
tier of stones were let into the rock itself. Every stone,
also, was strongly jointed to the stones near it, and all
wore firmly united by thick clamps of iron. Thus it was
made amazingly strong; and it has stood without injary
108 EDDYSTONE LIGHTHOUSE.

ever since, and has braved some very severe storms. One
tempest, in particular, raged with ancommon fury soon
after it was completed; and many were predicting its
downfall; while others said, that if it stood througn that
storm, it would stand forever. In the morning a good
many telescopes were pointed to the rock; and there, to
the great joy of all the architect's friends, the lighthouse
was dimly seen through the mist and storm. It had es-
caped without the slightest damage ; not even a pane of
glass was broken.

I can hardly tell you how pleasant it is, to the worn
and weary seaman, to see for the first time, when coming
home from sea, some lighthouse with which he is ac-
quainted. I have myself felt the pleasure of such a wel»
come and cheering sight.

ARUTIC REGIONS.

Mosr of our young readers are, without doubt, aware,
that as we recede from the tropical lines, and journey either
nérthward or southward, the temperature of the atmosphere
gradually becomes colder, until at length, either in the
Antarctic Ocean to the south, or in the Arctic to the north,
we enter the region of perpetual ice. During the long and
severe winters which are common to these districts, the
ocean becomes frozen over in one continuous mass; and
the veésels that may have penetrated there during the
summer, are fast locked up till the summer comes round
again. Continual storms of snow and sleet, biting frost, and
long dark nights, are the lot of the traveller who ventures
into this bleakly desolate region. As a vessel nears it, the
déscription of the poet is found to be quite correct :—

“ Beyond this flood « froren continent
Lice dark and wild, best with perpetual storms
Of whirlwind and dire hail, which on firm land
Thaws not, but gathers heap, and rain seems
ene ee
112 ARCTIC REGIONS.

Of the frozen ocean of the ‘south, we know but little, few
-voyages having been made, and those not successlully, for
the purpose of heisang it

To the north, several expeditions have sailed with more
success under Captains Ross, Parry, Franklin, and Beechy ;
as well ae the voyages that have been made there for the
purpose of whale fishing. The expeditions under the above
mentioned captains had, as a main object, the discovery of
@ north-west passage from the Atlantic to the Pacific, ayd
to ascertain the northern boundary of the American conti-
nent. Setting sail from England in the spring, they con-
trive to reach the.ice as it is breaking up under the summer
thaw. Then their difficulties begin, navigation among ice-
bergs, floes, and icefields, being beset with many dangers.
The former of these, icebergs, are huge mountainous masses
of ice, found drifting about in the sea. Some of them have
been met with more than four thousand yards long, and
three thousand broad, and calculated to weigh more than a
thousand million tone. Sometimes os many os sixty are
seen at once, having a wonderful variety in form and ap-
pearance, resembling palaces, castles, churches, arches, ob-
elisks, ships, trees, and towers. The sun’s rays reflected
from them now and then give a glistening appearance to
their surface, so that they appear tc be made of silver. In
the nigh! shey are readily distinguished, even at a distance,
ARCTIC REGIONS. 118

by their natural brightness; and in foggy weather by a
peculiat blackness of the atmosphere. Thus the danger
which they threaten is much decreased.

Greater hazard is rwo in sailing among icefielde, ‘whose
extent cannot be perceived. “They have frequently a
rotary motion, and their outer borders acquire a velocity
of several miles per hour. When a field thus in motion
comes in contact either with one that is motionless, or
Moving in an opposite direction, the crash is tremendous.
It is easy to understand that a body of more than ten thou-
sand millions of tons in weight, meeting resistance when in
motion, produces fearful effects. With a stunning and
awful noise, the weaker is crushed; while pieces of huge
dimensions and great weight are piled on the top. For a
ship between two meeting fields of ice there is no chance of
escape. Many have perished in this way: some have been
thrown upon the ice; some have had their bulls completely
torn open, or divided into two; and others have been over-
run by the ice and buried beneath its heaped fragments.”
Shunning with great care all these dangers, voyagers reach.
about the sixty-seventh degree of north latitude, by which
time the winter is coming on again, the sea begins to be
soated with new ice, and all further sailing is impeded.
The vessel is got into the nearest creek or bay, where it
can be sheltered during ihe wicitee, and it lies firraly frozen
114 ARCTIC REGIONS.

in the ice until the summer comes to free it by its thaw.
As soon as the ship is perceived, the Eequimaux flock
arou it, to barter their oil and skins for knives, hooks,
and other articles which the captain may be willing to give
them in exchange. Captain Parry thus describes a party
who paid him a visit on his second voyage. ‘“'Theso people
possessed in an eminent degree the disposition to steal all
they could lay their hands on, which has almost universally
been imputed to every tribe of Esquimaux hitherto visited
by Europeans. They tried more than once the art of pick-
ing our pockets, and were as bold and unembarragsed as
ever, immediately after detection. It is impossible to describe
the horribly disgusting manner in which they eat down, as
soon as they felt hungry, to eat their raw blubber, and to
suck the oil remaining on the skins we bad juat emptied,
the very smell of which, as well as the appearance, was to
us almost insufferable. The disguet which our seamen
could not help expressing at this sight seemed to create in
the Esquimaux the most malicious amusement; and when
our people tumed away, literally unable ta bear the sight
without being sick, they would, as a good joke among them-
velves, run after them, holding out a piece of blubber or raw
seal’s flesh. dripping with oil and filth, as if inviting them to
partake of it.

Sir John Ross was one day surprised by a party of them
ARCTIC REGIONS. 115

coming to make restoration of all the articles they had
stolen. The cause of their repentance was found to be the
guns, which had been fired for the purposc of making ex-
periments on sound. One of them having attended the
commander to the observatory, and having asked what
“the guns said?’ was informed they wero yaming the
thieves who had taken property of any kind from the ship ;
on which there was a general convocation held at the vil-
lage, and it was agreed to return everything. ‘These poor
creatures often suffer severely, during their long winter, from
the failure of the seal fishery. Travellers have found them
in their snow huts, without light, without food, actually
gnawing a piece of hard skin with the hair on it, and glad
to eat a wolf's carcase, raw and frozen.

At ‘such times of difficulty they lack the means of melting
snow for water, and can only ineffectually quench their
thirst by eating snow. In consequence of this, when they
visit a vessel, the sailors are often surprised to see the
quantity of water they will drink: a single individual has
been known to drink a gallon during the short time he was
on board.

Beare, wolves, reindeer, seals, and the musk-ox, are tho
chief animals which are found here; and the hunting of
them forms the amusement and support of the people.
Their houses are mere huts of snow, erected with as much
116 ARCTIC REGIONS.

rapidity as we could put up a tent; a block of ice serves
thein for a window; skins ure spread over the snow for
couches, and the crevices are stuffed up with enow. While
the house is building, the boys busy themselves in erecting
similar kennels for the dogs. When a ship visiting these
regions is safely secured for the winter, it is necessary that
the seamen should be kept in active exertion for the sake
of their health. Sometimes they are engaged in exploring
expeditions, to learn the character of the strange country
and people around them; at others they all turn out to play
@ game of cricket upon the ice; or else eally forth to hunt
some of the few animals that dwell in that inhospitable
clime. Sir J. Roes, gives an animated eketch of one of these
latter excursions, in which he was engaged. Attended by
one of the natives armed with a bow and arrows, and a
couple of dogs, he started to hunt the musk-ox. They
soon came upon the footsteps of the game, and the dogs
being let clip speedily left them behind. After two hours’
laborious travelling, over a very rugged country and through
deep snow, they found, on turning the angle of a hill, that
the dogs had brought a fine ox to bay; and they started off
at full speed to the rescue. The Esquimaux took the lead,
and was in the act of discharging his eecond arrow, when
Sir J. Roses came up. It struck on a rib without even
diverting the attention of the animal from the dogs, which
ARCTIC REGIONS. 117

continued barking and dodging round it, seizing it by the
heels whenever they had an opportunity, or when it turned
to escape, and then retreating as it faced them. In the
meantime it was trembling with rage, and laboring in vain
to reach its active assailants. The weapons of the native
seemed of little value in this warfare: he eontinued to shoot
without apparent effect, finding opportunities for an aim with
difficulty, and losing much time afterwards in recovering his
arrows; Captain Ross therefore fired at the animal with
two balls, at the distance of fifteen yards. They took effect,
and it fell; but rising again, made a sudden dart at them,
standing close together as they were. They avoided the
attack by dodging behind a large stone that was fortunately
near them. It rushed. upon it with all its force, and struck
its head so violently, that it fell to the ground with euch a
crash, that the hard ground fairly echoed to the sound. In
a moment the guide was upon it, attempting to stab it with
his knife; but failing in his design, was obliged to take
refuge behind the dogs, which now came forward again to
the attack. At this time it was bleeding profusely, and the
long hair on its sides was matted with blood; yet its rage
and strength seemed undiminished. Meanwhile, the gua
was reloaded, and Sir J. Ross advanced for another shot,
when the brute rushed at him, to the great alarm of his
guile, who called out for him to retum to his shelter
118 ARCTIC REGIONS.

But time was afforded for a cool aim, both barrels were
discharged, and at five yards’ distance it fell, and was dead
before the native came up. He was, as may be enppoved,
lost iu astonishment at the effect of fire-arms; and with
every expression of wonder examined the bullet-holes.

They had been eighteen hours without refreshment,
accordingly the native proceeded to mix some warm blood
with snow, to quench his thirst; and at once began to
skin the animal, which, in consequence of the severe cold,
it would soon have become impossible to do.

In this manner, the long Arctic winter is whiled away ;
and with the return of summer all are active and bustling,
either to penetrate northward, or to return home: which-
ever course they take, floes, icefields, and icebergs are found
floating around them, and make their course one of great
peril. Some idea of the danger to be met with in navigating
these seas muy be formed from the fact, that the Dutch in
one year have lost as many as seventy-three sail of ships
among the ice. In the year 1684, fourteen of their ships
were wrecked, and eleven more frozen fast during the
winter. In 1835, several British vessels were lost, and eleven
were besct there during the following winter. Sometimes
vessels are moored to an iceberg, for the sake of obtaining
supplies of water from the pools that are found on its surface
in the summer season ; and sometimes to gain shelter under
ARCTIO REGIONS. 119

an adverse wind. But at all times it is a perilous situation ;
a litle thing overturns the whole mase, and the ship is in
danger of being buried by its fearful summerset.

Our second plate represents two vessels moored to what
is termed a floe, (that is, an extent of ice whoee size can be
perceived,) and with it drifting out to cea. All the expedi-
tions that have been undertaken to discover the north-west
passage have been failures; and though high degrees of
north latitude have been reached, yet they hold out po
hopes of finding a nearer course to India and China by
sea, than the old route by the Cape of Good Hope. The
following description of a Thracian winter pictures many
hardships; but the reality in the Arctic regions is far
worse :—

“The bracen caldrons with the frost are flaw'd ;
The garment, stiff with ice, at hearths is thaw'd;
‘With axes first they cleave the wine, and thence
By weight, the solid portions they dispense.
From looks uncomb’d, and from the frozen beard,
Long icicles depend, and crackling sounds are heard ;
Meantime perpetual sleet and driving snow
Obscure the ekies, and hang on herds below;

The starving cattle perish in their stalls,

Huge oxen stand enclosed in wintry walls

Of anow congcal’d; whole herds are buried there,
Of mighty stags and scarce their horns appear.”
120 ARCTIO REGIONS.

How atriking the wisdom of that Being who has fitted
creatures for every diversity of clime, so that while some
can only live in the torrid zorfe, others find the frost of the
poles most congenial to their nature and habits! “O Lord,
how manifold are thy works! in wisdom hast thou made
them all.”


Arctic Voyagers.

121
THE CHINESE.

Ar the very opposite side of the globe from us, there is
a very large oountry called China, where all the tea that
is used grows. The Chinese are an exceedingly remarka-
ble people ; they had been a civilized nation many hundreds
of years, when our forefathers were savages, living naked
in the woods. Their language is quite different from that
spoken by any other people, and so is their writing; for
each letter stands for a werd, and they begin at the top of
& page, and instead of writing across, make their lines
straight down, from the top to the bottom. In very early
times they had found out many useful inventions, such as
the art of printing, the mariner’s compass, gunpowder,
and several ingenious manufactures; but what is very
strange instead of going forward in their — and
124 THE CHINESE.

becoming more and more civilized, as the nations of
Enurope have done, they seem all at once to have stood
still, and to be just the same people now—no wiser, no
more skilful, no more polished, than they were a thousand
years ago.

We have been indebted to the Chinese for several use-
ful things, which are now become so common, that we
could hardly do without them. Porcelain is. one of these,
which is indeed commonly called china; our cups and
saucers are made of it: it is a peculiar kind of earth,
which is made into a paste, moulded into shape, and burnt
in a furnace. The tea that we-drink out of these vessels
is, as I have said before, entirely the produce of China.
Tea consists of the leaves of a small shrub, dried ; and you
may imagine the importance of it, when I tell you, that
thirty-two millions of pounds weight are brought into this
country every year! Silk was originally made in China
also; you are perhaps aware that this is the web or cocoon
of a caterpillar, called the silkworm, which it spins round
its body, before it turns into a chrysalis. The fine slender
(” Lae
eS Le.


rHE CHINESE. 1397

thread is wound off. and woven into the various kinds of -
silken stuffs, such as sarcenet, satin, velvet, &c.

One of' the greatest curiosities of art in the world, is the
great wall of China. The people were much in dread of
a warlike nation that inhabited a country near to their
own, named Tartary; for the Tartars were in the habit
of marching into China, and plundering and murdering
the poor peaceable people: to prevent this, the emperor
determined to build a very strong and high wall all across
that side of his dominions. As it was a vast undertaking,
he ordered, first, that three out of every ten men in his
empire, should work at it; and afterwards, two out of
every five. Jt was finished in five years; and was then
nearly one thousand five hundred miles long, about thirty
feet high, and so thick, that six horsemen could ride along
the top, side by side. At short distances there are placed
strong towers, amounting to three thousand in all, where
soldiers might be kept in case of attack. The wall was
carried over high hills, and through deep valleys; across
sandy deserts and boggy marshes: even over broad rivera,
128 THE CHINESE.

and deep precipices, and rapid torrents, it was carried. .
upon lofty arches; so that altogether it was a very sur-
prising work of human art and labor. It was built about
two thousand years ago; and though composed of only
bricks and mortar, it is very little decayed even now,
though it is said never to have had any repairs.

China is amazingly populous: a vast number of the
people spend their whole lives upon the water, living in
covered boats, which actually swarm upon the rivers and
canals; while upon the sea around the coast, it is said
that forty thousand persons constantly live in the large
clumsy ships that they build, called junks. Of course
where there are so many mouths, there must be a large
quantity of food; and they find it necessary to be ex-
tremely economical, eating things that we would not
touch, such as creatures that have died of disease; and
any small animals, such as rats and mice, and even dogs
and cats. Agriculture, also, is very much attended to, for
the same reason; the land is accurately parcelled out,
and very carefully cultivated; not a weed is permitted to
be seen, so that the whole country looks as clean as &
garden. Even the corners of the fences are weeded, and
filled with one vegetable production or another, and the
steepest sides of mountains are not allowed to lie waste;
for they are cut into flat terraces, or shelves, one ‘above
another, and each terrace made to yield its crop. If the
surface be bare rock, mould is carried up with great labor,
until a sofficient soil is obtained.

So important is agriculture considered, that the emperor
holds a great festival every year in honor of it, when he
holds the plough, and tarns a furrow with his own hands.

Among the excellenci@s of the Chinese people, may be
mentioned their great industry, and their love for their
parents: Christian children might well learn a Jesson
from these poor heathens, who hold their parents in the
highest veneration and respect. Among their most noto-
rious evils, are the constant and shameless practice of dis-
honesty in dealing, and an utter disregard of trath in speak-
ing. But we must remember that they are ignorant of the

religion of Christ.
9
190 THE “4INESE

Lately there was a very unjust and sinfal war between
this country and China. Some wicked English people
had been in the habit of selling there a poisonous drug,
and got a good deal of money by it: at last the Emperor
of China made a law, that they should bring no more of
this bad stuff’ to sell; but the English, because they were
stronger, without regarding how unjust it was, sent sol-
diers and ships of war to force it upon them, and to make
them pay for it.

The picture represents some of these people with their
curious dresses ; you see they wear loose robes, one upon
another, and their hair is tied fhto a long pigtail behind.
They are punishing a man who has done something
wrong ; he is laid flat on the ground, and then the soles of
his feet are well beaten with a stout bamboo cane, till he

cannot walk nor stand. This is sometimes called the bas
tinado.

ALNWICK CASTLE.

Sou of the numerous palaces of the nobility of this
country are magnificent works of art. One of the
grandest of these is Alnwick Castle, of which a beautiful
view is given in the accompanying engraving ; the prin-
cipal residence of the Duke of Northumberland. It is «
situated on the south side of the river Aln, in the county
of Northumberland, on a hill that gives it a very noble
appearance. From its strength, it was a place of much
importatice in early times, particularly in the long wars
between Scotland and England. before they were united
into one kingdom. Malcolm II., King of Scotland, and
his son, were both killed in besieging this castle, in 1098,
and the circumstances of the death of the former are in-
teresting, as showing the mode of warfare common to that
time. Maloolm had visited the court al a
184 ALNWICK CASTLF

the King of England, who behaved towards him with
great insolence .and contempt. The Scottish king re-
turned in high displeasure, and began, in revenge, to
ravage the north of England with fire andsword. With a
large army, commanded by himself and his son Edward, he
besieged the castle of Alnwick, surrounding it with his
soldiers so closely, that no one could go in or come out;
hoping soon to starve it into a surrender. It was on the
very point of yielding, when one of the garrison under-
took its rescue by the following stratagem: he rode forth
completely armed, with the keys of the castle tied to the
end of his spear, and presented himself in an humble
manner before the king’s pavilion, as if he were come to
give up possession. Malcolm came forth quite unsus-
piciously to receive the keys, when the soldier suddenly
pierced him with a spear, and inflicted a mortal wound.
He then turned his horse and escaped across the river.
The garrison immediately rushed out, and put the whole
army to flight.

The castle of Alawick contains a great many towers, and
ialis, und rooms, which I cannot enumerate to you; all, of
cuarse, fitted up in a very splendid manner. as suitable to
the state of one of the highest peers inthe kingdom. The
figare of a lion with extended tail, looking very fierce,
is seen sculptured here and there, over gateways and in
similar places, as this animal forms what is called the
crest of the Duke of Northumberland. On the top of the
walls there are some curious images cut in stone, repre-
senting soldiers defending the place in various ways, and
using such arms as were then common. Two guards, for
instance, are sculptured on one of the gateways, in the
act of throwing down a large stone on the heads of the
enemies below.

We cannot visit any ancient castle, without having our
feelings shocked by what was considered absolutely ne-
essary to such a building—the dungeon. That of Alnwick
Castlo is a horrible stone cell underground, and has no
entratce but by a trap-door or iron grate. The powerful
barons who occupied such castles as these in early times,
were gerferally cruel and lawless men ; and many deeds of
186 ALNWICK CASTLE.

darkness were done by them, which only the judgment: of

he great day will bring to light. Those who offended
them were frequently shut up without mercy in these
dungeons, cold, and damp, and noisome ; being let down
by cords, where they lay without ever seeing the light of
day, except the faint glimmer that came through the
narrow passage and grated door which led to it. How
very grateful we ought to be to the gracious providence of
God, that we live in times when punishment only follows
crime, and then only in such measure and manner as are
appointed by just laws !


Comparative Height of Public Buildings.
COMPARATIVE SIZE OF PUBLIC BUILDINGS.

Tae power of man is shown in the mighty and mag-
nificent buildings, which from time to time he has erected
for various purpoees. The opposite engraving is intended
to show, at one view, the height and size of the most
famous stractares in the world, as compared with each
other. You will, of course, understand that they are rep-
resented all together merely for comparison; in reality
they are situated in very distant parts of the world.

No. 1 is the largest of the Pyramids in Egypt, which
are supposed to have been built about the time when the
children of Israel sojourned in Egypt, more than three
thousand years ago. 2, is St. Peter's Church at Rome.
3, is the tower of the Cathedral at Strasburg, in Germany,

noted for ay exceedingly curious clock. 4, is the spire of
139
140 COMPARATIVE SIZE OF

Salisbury Cathedral, the loftiest building in England. 5,
St. Paul's Cathedral, London, a most beautiful stracture,
built by Sir Christopher Wren. 6, The Church of Giralda,
at Seville. 7, The Tower of Minar, in Delhi, an ancient
city in India. 8, The Porcelain Tower of Nankin, in
China. 9, The Church of Nétre Dame, in Paris. 10, The
Monument of London, built in memory of the great fire
that nearly destroyed the city in 1666. 11, The Leaning
Tower of Pisa, in Italy: it is not certainly known whether
this tower was purposely built in this position, or whether
it has sunk on one side since: it is quite frightful to look
over the hanging side from the top, but it has stood so
long without any change, that it is considered perfectly safe.
12, The Bridge of Alcantara, in Spain. 18, The Mosque of
St. Sophia, in Constantinople. 14, The Place Vendome,
io Paris. 15, Trajan’s Pillar, at Rome. 16, The Mosque
of Omar, at Jerusalem. 17, The Luxor Obelisk, originally
erected in Upper Egypt, perhaps as long ago as the
Pyramids, but recently removed, and now set up ip Paris.
18, An ancient aqueduct at Segovia, in Spain, The an-
PubLie BUMDINGS. 141

cients were accustomed to carry water across valleys,
through canals raised on lofty arches, and these structures
were called aqueducts; that at Segovia is one of the most
perfect now remaining. 19, The head of the Sphinx, a
fabulous being worshipped in Egypt, represented with the
head of a woman and the body of a lion.

From the figures in the engraving, you will be able to
form a pretty correct notion of the height of each of theso
buildings, when you are informed that the height of the
Pyramid, number 1, is five hundred and fourteen feet, and
that of the Sphinx, number 19, about thirty-three fest.
THE CHURCHES OF ST. PETER AND ST. PAUL.

Some of these buildings just mentioned are professedly
erected forthe worship of God, and the two most magnificent
are here represented more distinctly, namely, St. Peter’s in
Rome, and St. Paul’s in London. Considered merely as
structures raised by man, tkey are very splendid and beau-
tifal, and worthy of admiration; but as many very wrong
notions are entertained on such subjects, I think it right
to inform you that the true worship of God has nothing
at all todo, in our days, with lofty domes, or marble
pillars, or delicate sculpture, or painted windows, what-
ever may have been the caso in ancient times, before the
Lord Jesus Christ came. We are taught in the New

Testament, that “God is not worshipped with men’s
142
erm



Pt

ne |

Wo USL Le





















St. Peter’s and St. Paul’s.

148
CHURCHES OF ST. PRTER AND ST. PAUL. 145

hands, as though he needed any thing:” the worship
which he seeks, is the drawing near to him in the heart,
through the blood of his dear Son; and this can be done
as weil in a barn, or in the field, or in the street, as in the
finest nouse. I speak of this, because it is indeed most
important; it is of little value to know all science and
learning, if you have mistaken thoughts of God, and of
what is real and true worship: “ God is a spirit, and they
that worship him, must worship him in spirit and in
trath.” I cannot, then, consider these magnificent build-
ings as any other than wonderful monuments of the skill
and power, and perbaps the pride, of man. Some ofthe
temples that the foolish heathens built to the false gods,
the stocks and stones, that they worshipped, were very
astonishing for size and splendor: the temple of Diana,
at Ephesus, was considered one of the wonders of the
world,

10
THE NEST OF THE WILD BEE.

WE may safely eay that no animal of its size bas had so
much attention paid to its habits, or so much study devoted
to the understanding of its plans and proceedings as the
bee. It has become the general type of industry and
economy, and accompanied by the motto, “ Nil sine labore,”
“Nothing without exertion,” forms a favorite device with
the people. ten, periodical publications have appeared, and even learned
societies have been founded, to promote our knowledge of
the bee, and increase ite usefulness to man. Poets of every
age have derived from it some of their most beautiful illue-
trations. No nation upon earth has had so many historians:
as the bee. To enter into an elaborate description of an
insect with which every child is acquainted would be need-
less; we shall therefore content ourselves with taking a
glimpee or two of some of its principal habits. To every
hive or nest of bees there is one female bee, termed the
queen bee, whose chief duty is to deposit the eggs by which

146

THE NEST OF THE WILD BEF. 149

the race is kept from being extinct. “If the queen be re-
moved from a hive, and a strange queen be immediately
introduced, she is surrounded and kept prisoner until she
dies of hunger, for the workers never sting a queen bee. If,
however, eighteen hours have elapsed since the loss of the
former queen, the stranger is better received, for although
she is at first surrounded, she is ultimately set at liberty,
and treated with all the usual attention ; but if four-and-
twenty hours have elapsed before the strange queen be
introduced, she is at once admitted to the sovereignty of the
hive. While the queen remains in a hive, the introduction
of a strange queen will occasion a disturbance somewhat
similar to that which takes place when two or three young
queens escape from their celle at the same time; both the
stranger and the reigning queen are surrounded by the
workers, and the escape of either being thus prevented, they
are soon brought into contact. A battle ensues, which
ende in the death of one of them, and the other then be-
comes ruler of the hive.

We have spoken once or twice of “the hive,” it may be
as well to say that this is a basket or box in which the bees
build their celle and store their honey, and serves the same
purpose as the nest of the wild bee, which our picture repre-
sents, Bees are found in almost every country in the world,
and in Africa and the East are frequently found wild. We
160 THE NEST OF THE WILD BRE.

all remember the New Testament account of John the
Baptist: “His meat was locusts and wild honey.” Some-
times the nests of these wild bees are of very singular con-
struction, and very curiously situated. It is related in the
book of Judges that Samson, aided by supernatural strength,
rent a young lion that warred against him, as he would
have rent a kid; and that after a time as he returned to take
his wife, he turned aside to see the carcase of the lion, when
there was a swarm of bees and honey in the carcase of the
lion. Most probably a sufficient time had elapsed for all
the flesh of the animal to have been removed by birds and
beasts of prey, and ants. Herodotus relates that a swarm
of bees took up their abode in the skull of one Silius, an
ancient invader of Cyprus, which they had filled with
honeycombe, after the inhabitants had suspended it over the
gate of their city. Aldrovandus gives an account of some
bees that inhabited and built their combs in a human
skeleton in a tomb in a church at Verona. Hollow trees,
fissures in rocke, or holes in banks, are the more usual places
to which they reaort. Sometimes they take up their abode
in the thatch of a roof; and occasionally too they will
build between the interstices of slated roofs. We were
present at a gentleman’s house a winter or two ago, when
the carpenter was sent for to search the roof, in order that a
bees’ nest supposed to be there might be destroyed. It was
THE NEST OF THE WILD BEE. 151

@
winter-time, and ag the bees were judged to be dormant
if any should be found, the whole party, gentlemen and
ladies, ascended to the attic to see what discovery would be
made.

The carpenter commenced his search just where the roof
shoots over the side-wall of the house, at a particular spot,
where the sound of the bees had been heard. After taking
out a etone or two, large pieces of honeycomb, curiously
shaped to fit the aperture, were pulled out; and as he
extended his search, fresh honeycomb was discovered. But
though one or two false alarms of “ Bees!” for the purpose
of frightening the ladies, were given by the more youthful
part of the company, no bees and no honey were found.
Considerable quantities of comb were taken out, and the
opening stopped up.

In Brazil the wild bees build clay nests, sometimes of
great dimension. They are of an oblong shape, much like
a skin-bottle in form, and made of such compact material
that no rain can penetrate them, and no enemy but the
bear break in upon them. Some of the uncivilized tribes
of mankind show great ingenuity in discovering the nests
of the wild bee. Sir J. Alexander, giving an account of
his expedition into the interior of Africa, says, “ Whilet I
wau engaged in the chase one day un foot with a Namaqua
attendant, he picked up a small stone, looked at it earnestly
152 THE NEST OF THE WILD BEE.

@

then over the plain, and threw it down again. I asked
what it was. He said there was the mark of a bee on it.
Taking it up I also saw on it a small pointed drop of wax,
which had fallen from a bee in its flight. The Namaqua
noticed the direction the point of the drop indicated, and
walking on he picked up another stone also with a drop of
wax on it, and #0 on at considerable intervals, till, getting
behind a crag, he looked up, and bees were seen flying across
the sky, and in and out of a cleft in the face of the rock.
Here of course was the honey he was in pursuit of. A dry
bush is selected, fire is made, the cliff ie ascended, and the
nest is robbed in the smoke.”

In Australia the natives exhibit quite as much ingenuity
in discovering where the wild bee has his nest. Watching
an opportunity they contrive to catch one of the bees, and
fix to it by means of some resin or gum the light down of
the swan or owl. Thus laden, the bee makes off to ite store-
houee, generally the branch of some lofty tree, and unwit-
tingly betraye its home of sweets to its keen-eyed pursuers.

Independently of man they have many enemies: the bee-
eater feeds upon the insect; and the bear delights to feas-
upon its honey, but for which he sometimes pays dearly.

In Russia there are individuals who, beside their bee-
gardens, possess bundreds and thousands of wild-bee hives
in the woods. When tho people wish to establish hives in Ure
THE NEST OF THE WILD BRE 163

forest, they select the straightest and strongest trees which
they can find, always preferring the hardest kind of timber.
On these, at the height of twenty-four or thirty feet above
the ground, they make the bee-house, by hollowing out a
large smooth cavity in the trunk of the tree with a tool like
a chisel. When the work is done, the opening is closed
with a board with several holes in it, large enough for the
bees to get in and out easily. It is then left for them to
discover, which they speedily do, and gladly avail themselves
of the convenience it affords to deposit their honey there.
These hives are constantly robbed by the bears which
abound in the neighborhood, and the ingenuity of the
peasant is called into exercise to protect his stock from
depredations. One of their contrivances is thus described :—
“It is not unlike a large scale, such as we eometimes seo
in wholesale shops, consisting of a board, with ropes at each
corner, united at the top. It is then fastened to a branch
above the hive in such a manner, that if left suspended
perpendicularly, the board would be at some distance from
the trunk. But when the rope is properly fastened to the
branch, the board is drawn from the perpendicular, and
attached slightly to the trunk on a level with the door of
the hive. When the bear ascends and finds a seat which
seems so admirably adapted to his convenience he gets upon
it, and soon commences lugging to remove the only obstacle
154 THE NEST OF THE WILD BEE.

between him and his desired prey ; but as this obstacle is the
fastening of the board to the trunk-of the tree, the animal
no sooner eucceeds in his object than his seat swings off
with him to its perpendicular. He thus remains suspended
in the air, in a sufficiently mortifying situation, until some
one arrives to shoot him. But sometimes he throws himeelf
off and is then stuck through by the pointed stakes which
arc planted round the tree.”

The attack of these insects is often made use of by poets,
both eacred and profane, to represent the irresistible charge
of a body of troope, or the persevering vengeance with which
they pursue their foes. Moses, in Deuteronomy, says, “ The
Amorites came out against you and chased you as bees do
and destroyed you in Seir unto Hormah.”

Pliny relates that bees were eo troublesome in some parts
of Crete, that the inhabitants were compelled to forsake
their homes; and it is recorded by another historian, that
seme places in Scythia were formerly inaccessible on account
of the swarms of bees with which they were infested.

Mr. Park relates that at Dooproo some of the people
being in search of honey, unfortunately disturbed a swarm
of bees, which came out in great numbers, attacked both
men and beasts, obliged them to fly in all directions, so that
he feared an end had been put to his journey; they stung
his beasts so that one ass died the same night, and another
THE NEST OF THE WILD BEE. 155

next morning. Even in this country, the stings of two
exasperated hives have been known to kill a horse in a few
minutes. "

The Psalmist says, “They compassed me about like
bees ;” and Homer, in describing the intervention of the
Myrmidons, likens them to swarms of angry bees.

In olden times Mount Hymettus was fartéus for its honey,
and numbers of hives are kept there now. Millon thus
alludes to-it in his Paradise Regained :—

“There flow’ry hill Hymettus, with the sound
Of bees’ industricus marmar, oft invites
To studious musing.”

At the present day, the people there use a device to pre-
vent them from swarming and flying away ; managing to
divide the stocks. In the month of August the bee-keepers
take out their honey, which they also do in the day-time,
when most of the bees are abroad. The bee-merchants say
the bees are disturbed least by the use of this plan. At
some future time we must explain the structure of the bee
himeelf, his curious shaped tongue, the pockets on his thighs
where he puts his load, and the sting that he beare in his
tail. We ought not to be too proud to learn a lesson from

anything; and the industry of thia little insect, and his
“
156 THE NEST OF THE WILD BEE.

provident provision for the winter, may instruct many a
larger animal, and give men one hint more of the truth,
«“ While laziness clothes a man with rags, by industry is the
substance increased.”

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