out of season, the mountain plantain forms the principal food of the natives. Beyond the mountains project a border of low land towards the sea: on this are erected the houses of the Missionaries and natives. This low land differs very considerably in width in various places. In the widest parts it is not a mile deep, while in other places it is not fifty paces. Some of the valleys run twenty miles up the country. The trees in this country are evergreens: they never appear stripped of their foliage as in England. The native apple, a most delicious fruit, is the only tree that loses its leaves altogether; but these have no sooner fallen, than the tree is covered with a new race. This tree grows to a most amazing size, as large as the oak in England, but the wood is very soft. The wood of the bread-fruit tree is the most useful of any in Tahiti. It serves for posts and boards for houses; and the natives also build their canoes of it. "We have here much sunshine: we know nothing of foggy mornings. The atmosphere in general is very clear: but if we have cloudy and close weather, (which is often the case in the wet season,) we very sensibly feel the effects of it: it makes us dull and half stupid. This wet season generally begins about January, and ends in March, and is a very unhealthy period of the year; the natives being generally attacked with some disorder among them, which carries off several. The months of May, June, and July, (which we consider our winter,) are much colder than our summer months; and especially at nights: and I can assure you that we could no more do without a blanket on our beds, than you could do without a good fire on Christmas day. In the wet season, a vast quantity of fine white salmon is caught by the natives, and it sometimes happens that we have seven or eight salmons given to us in the course of one day. Other various small fish are caught all the year round. Tahiti will produce beautiful sugar-cane, pine-apples, and figs. Coffee has just been introduced, and we hope it will do well. It cannot be said to be either a very healthy or a very unhealthy country. Europeans are subject to several distressing, although not mortal diseases, but there are others that are fatal, as the dysentery, &c. "Having given a slight sketch of the land, &c. I will next proceed to make a few observations upon the manners, &c. of the people. I will state what they were in their former condition. In war, they were cruel in the extreme, the conquering party not only killing the men, but all the women and children that they could find; and when dead, they used the bodies with indignity, If the conquering chief had conceived a hatred to another when alive, he would after his death order his dead body to be brought before him, and would beat it with a club in a savage manner, as if the body could feel the blows he dealt upon it: another indignity exercised on the bodies of those slain in battle was, they would lay them in a row, and make them serve the same purpose as pieces of wood, to drag their canoes upon, on the sea-beach: another piece of wanton barbarity they would be guilty of towards the bodies of the murdered children; they would collect a number of their bodies together, bore a hole through each head, put a cord through each of them, (like you would put a string through the gills of a parcel of herrings,) and then drag them about in sport: these and a thousand other barbarities they exercised towards each other in their former wars. "The manner of murdering their children formerly was very shocking. When a woman found she was near the time of delivery, she would remove from the house, and retire under some shady tree, and immediately as the child was born, a stander-by would stamp it under his feet, or else strangle it, or bury it alive; or, if a pond was near at hand, throw it in: and afterwards it would be talked about among the natives with the greatest indifference, just as we should talk about the killing of a sheep or pig. The Devil had attained such a power over them, that they truly answered the description of the Apostle, when he describes those who were "without natural affection." Thus you see, my dear friend, what dreadful characters these Tahitians were before the Gospel came unto them. Some have killed seven or eight children in this way, and now they would give any thing if they had but a child. I cannot help mentioning a circumstance that occurred about nine months ago, at one of the Paumotu Islands, which have not yet embraced | you, were you to save their lives. In the Gospel. "Two Russian vessels calling at the Paumotu Islands, the captain of one of the vessels went on shore, where he found a little girl crying very bitterly. On inquiring the cause, she made him understand, that her father and mother had been killed in war; that those who had killed them had cooked and eaten them; and when the poor child asked for something to eat, they offered her a piece of her own father! The Russian captain pitied the poor child, brought her to Tahiti, where, having been taught to read, she now resides. Thus you see, although much has been done, that much still remains. "Before the people of Tahiti received the Gospel, they were sad mockers: when a Missionary came to preach to them, they would call out in derision, and tell the blind men that were there to go to the Missionary, that he could make them see: and called to the lame and leprous in the same manner, and told them to go and be healed. 66 Having thus given a slight sketch of what they were formerly, I will now proceed to say a few words upon their present state and character.-They pay a strict outward regard to the Sabbath. At sun-rise they assemble, and have a prayer-meeting among themselves. About nine o'clock they assemble again; then we preach to them. Every body attends the morning service; not a man, woman, or child, is absent, unless it be on account of sickness. The people take no walks of pleasure on a Sabbath; no canoes or boats are to be seen on the sea; nor is any sort of work done on that day. The evening service is not so well attended; but those who do absent themselves must keep to their own houses, as they would be afraid to be seen walking about in service time. Although the Sabbath is so strictly kept, you must not suppose that all the people in Tahiti are real Christians. Alas! no. There is a great outward profession; but the true marks of genuine godliness are only here and there to be found. These people are not sufficiently grateful to God for his distinguishing mercies towards them. As a people, they may be called ungrateful; they are not thankful for favours of a temporal nature bestowed by the Missionaries. They would feel themselves under no obligation to general they respect us as men, but they have very little love for us for the sake of the work in which we are engaged. In a word, they know nothing of that affectionate love which British Christians bear to their pastors. This is a great grief to us, inasmuch as it manifests that they do not possess that affection for Divine things that they ought. But we pray that the time may come, when a larger effusion of the Divine Spirit shall be poured out upon them, and then shall divine love be more abundantly shed abroad in their hearts. "We dwell at Atehuru, the most extensive district in Tahiti; Mr. Darling also dwells near. Mr. D. and I have the charge of this large district Since we have formed this Missionary station, we have baptized upwards of 300 adults, and about 150 children. We do not consider these to be all Christians, but we baptize them because they profess Christ to be their Saviour, and him alone; and there is nothing immoral in their outward conduct. Many of them are very ignorant; but we meet with them one day in every week to instruct them in the principles of Christianity. We have gathered a small church out of the wilderness, which consists of 20 natives and ourselves; to these we administer the ordinance of the Lord's Supper once a month. We are occupied every day in the week, except Saturdays, in schools, both for adults and children, We preach every Wednesday evening, and hold various other meetings with the people. We feel happy and contented in our station, but earnestly desire more zeal and devotedness of heart in the work in which we are engaged." LAPLANDERS AND REIN-DEER IN ENGLAND. MR. EDITOR. SIR,-Judging the following article, which appeared recently in some of the public papers, worthy of more general notice and permanent record, I have transcribed and communicated it for insertion in your interesting and much diversified miscellany, at your convenience and pleasure. The amazing case and celerity with which reindeer in Lapland travel over mountains and valleys covered with snow and bought another herd, twelve in numice, the richness of their flesh and ber. These he not only succeeded in milk, the latter of which is said to be embarking in safety, but in bringing more nourishing than that of a cow; them alive and well to the Thames. the thickness and warmth of their fur, Before relating the mishaps that befel (serving for clothing); and their sus- them here, we may observe on the exceptibility of government, and extraor-traordinary sagacity they displayed in dinary sagacity, render them a valuable, and prove them to be a wise and express provision of the all-wise Creator, for his intelligent inhabitants of those cold and solitary districts of the earth. They are essential companions for those far-northern Europeans; and must be the principal means and source of their long and dreary winter's comfort, convenience, and recreation; and tend greatly to prolong their lives. In sledges drawn by rein-deer, it is said, the Laplanders make long excursions on the snow, and, without much fatigue, travel fifty miles a day; and occasionally pass over hill and dale, two hundred miles in the same straight course. 66 I have extracted from "Kames' Sketches of the History of Man," (a work that is to be found in few of our fashionable and novel-constructed libraries) a literal translation of two Lapland Odes, communicated by Scheffer, in his history of that country; "which," says his lordship, are full of the tenderest sentiments that love can inspire;" which, from their simplicity, their natural and elevated expression of unrefined thought and feeling, cannot fail to gratify the reader; and which, I presume, will not be deemed by you, either as illplaced or improper concomitants of the article which precedes them. I am, Sir, Your most humble servant, Barnsley, Nov. 17th, 1821. A. Mr. Bullock, whose attention to the study of natural history is well known, has succeeded in bringing specimens of rein-deer to this country, which may perhaps lead to the conciliation of our mountain forests with this interesting animal. While on a tour in Norway, he procured a herd of twenty, the whole of which were killed by eating a poisonous plant, that grew upon a small island on which they were placed for security, previous to embarkation. He, however, was not to be driven from his object. He once more went into the interior, and travelling. They were completely under the command of a leader or captain, which not only headed their march, but seemed upon every difficulty to issue orders which were promptly and implicitly obeyed. This was most remarkable when they came to the boat for embarkation. A new situation required stronger exercise of instinct, approaching to reason, and of courage, than had previously been called forth. The herdsman, a Norwegian, got into the boat, and invited the captain of the deer to follow him. Generally obedient to his wishes, the noble animal approached, and put his foot from the pier into the vessel. It was the first unsteady ground he had ever trod, and he recoiled in alarm. Fresh invitations, and fresh investigations of the boat ensued; the whole herd looking on, and watching these, to them, as well as to the human spectators, interesting proceedings. At last the captain felt assured: he entered the boat, and trod upon and examined every plank. When fully satisfied, he uttered a kind of snort, and in three minutes the hitherto passive herd had bounded into and filled the boat. Nor was this all the wonderful display of animal intelligence: the vessel was overloaded, and, as he had intimated other things, he also intimated this to his followers. Were we not assured of the fact, we could hardly credit it; no sooner was this done, than the individual deer he appeared to address, leaped into another boat. On arriving in the Thames, it unluckily happened that the customhouse officer at Gravesend, did not feel himself authorized to allow the deer to be landed. But before the application could be made to the proper authorities in London, the majority of the poor herd fell victims to their confinement on ship-board. They began to die very fast, and eight of the twelve deer were thus destroyed. The remnant saved, consists of a male and female, a fawn*, and a male which has been cut. The latter is the It died lately. captain, of which we have spoken, and the largest of the animals, being, we suppose, about ten hands high, and proportionably stout. The others are a hand or two lower. Their fur is astonishingly thick, very fine, and delicately soft and warm. The horns branch in a singular and beautiful manner, and are entirely covered with a short fur. Those of the female form almost a perfect coronet, above a foot in height, and her head is of a most elegant shape. The captain's antlers are three feet in length; on one side branching from a single root, on the other having two branches bending forwards over the nose, issuing from the head with the main branch. The fawn had only two short protuber ances. Their hoofs are very broad, and flexible between the divisions. This enables them to clamber up the precipices, and hang on rocks inaccessible to all other animals. Their speed is prodigious. They seem to be reconciled to hay as food; like brandy, which is administered as a medicine; and there is nothing at present to cause a doubt of the practicability of naturalizing them in England. Along with the deer, Mr. B. has brought a native Laplander, his wife, and child. These beings are about four feet eight inches in height; the man being of the common size, the woman rather tall. The child, a curiosity in its way, is about five years old. The gaudy bowers, With all their verdant pride, Which make my mistress disappear, And her envious darkness hide, I from the roots and bed of earth would tear. Upon the raft of clouds I'd ride, O' th' ravens I would borrow wings, POETRY. LINES FOR THE NEW YEAR. "There's nought remains at rest.” THE opening morn, the splendid noon, The tide returns, and ebbs again, The comet, wandering far on high, The various seasons, as they rise, Thus day and night, and star and flood, That, throughthe wondrous works of God, If action then be nature's law, This truth should be impress'd: "That life in deeds of love should flow All blessing, and all bless'd." SONNET. (Written on the Strand.) TO THE OCEAN. STUPENDOUS product of the Almighty's hand, Through whose wide fields ten thousand creatures play; That into being leap'd at His command, Whose high behests, heaven, earth, and seas, obey! I've seen thy raging billows on the shore While on the ear the deep-resounding roar fill. Thus rage the bands, when fierce Bellona reigns, But where mild peace commands, joy beams upon the plains. Since all our labours for a while are sped, With hearts elate these boards to-night we tread, Determin'd, whilst thro' learning's path we For once, at least, if you approve—to play. stray, No tragic scenes are ours-no strain of woe, The heaving sigh or melting tear to draw, But such alone as soothe the lab'ring mind, When long to graver, weightier cares confin'd. Thus the lone travell'r, when the sun descends, To seek repose his weary way he bends, But when with sleep refresh'd, at dawn of day, Elate he rises, and pursues his way. At length the long-expected moment nigh, Unto our posts with anxious hopes we fly, For, when the trumpet to the battle sounds, The hoarse loud blast the dauntless beast astounds: But on your candour we to-night rely, Assur'd that truth will guide you in our destiny. December 25th, 1821. ON THE DEATH OF A FEMALE FRIEND. WHEN gloomy themes invite the pensive muse, warms. But as to me the blessing is deny'd, Thus to display the beauties of her mind; 'T must be my task, nor O that task deride, To eulogize in feeling unrefin'd. A drooping mother she has left behind, To weep in anguish o'er her virgin-tomb; A father meek, affectionate, and kind, To muse in sadness on her hapless doom. Belov'd by all whose hearts she did engage, Whose troubles and distress did freely share; By them (companions of her blooming age) Her mem❜ry oft is sweeten'd with a tear. The victims too of want, and pale disease, Regret in mis'ry her benignant care, E |