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This is sometimes attained, as among the Hindoos, by the infliction of self-torture, which is supposed to confer a mysterious authority over the invisible world. Thus, in one of Mr. Catlin's pictures, a Sioux is represented suspended to a pole by splints run through his body, with his medicine-bag in his hand, looking at the sun from its rising to its setting; an achievement which seems almost impossible without producing blindness, but, when performed, entitling the votary to great respect for the remainder of his life as a mystery or medicine-man.

As may be imagined, these men work chiefly by spells and charms, on which the greatest reliance is placed; and as confidence in the physician is in many cases half a cure, and they are doubtless acquainted with many simple remedies, they are often successful; and when a mishap will occur, they find no difficulty in shifting the blame of ill success to the patient's shoul

make their appearance, are strong evidences against such a supposition.

The Indians practise many sports, the principal being dances of triumph, to celebrate success in war, hunting, or other joyful occasions. The most animated of all is the ball-play; and with a spirited account of such a scene, witnessed by Mr. Woodruff, when on a visit to Brant in 1797, and transcribed from his notes by Mr. Stone, in his Life of the great chief, we shall wind up our

article.

"The place selected for the trial of strength, agility, and skill, was a broad and beautiful green, of perhaps one hundred acres, perfectly level, and smooth as a carpet, without tree, or shrub, or stone to encumber it. On one side of the green the Senecas had collected in a sort of irregular encampment-men, women, and children to the number of more than a thousand. On the other side the Mohawks were actively assembling in yet greater numbers.

ders, by accusing him of having neglected their prescriptions, The stakes deposited by each party were laid upon the ground in

or in some other way interfered with the operation of their charms. Such men have, in all ages and countries, possessed themselves of extraordinary influence over the minds of the ignorant.

The Indians do not agree among themselves in the traditions they preserve of their own origin. A few believe that they are descendants of people born across "the great salt lake," but most

uppose that their race was originally created on their own conti

ment. Some conceive that the Great Spirit made them out of the celebrated red stone, from which, out of a single quarry, from time immemorial, they have made their pipes. Others say they were all created from the dust of the earth; but those who have become acquainted with the white people modestly add, "The Great Spirit must have made you out of the fine dust, for you know more than

we."

It is a very singular fact, that of all the tribes visited by Mr. Catlin (48 in number) there was no one that did not, by some means or other, connect their origin with a big canoe, which was supposed to have rested on the summit of some hill or mountain in their neighbourhood. This was especially remarkable among the Mandans, in the centre of whose village stood a curb made of planks, which they called their "Big Canoe," and regarded as an object of religious veneration. He also beheld among them the performance of an annual religious ceremony held in remembrance of the " settling of the waters," commencing on the day on which the willow-trees of their country came into blossom. On asking why that tree, out of all others, was selected, Mr. Catlin was informed that it was because from it that the bird flew to them with a branch in its mouth; and when it was inquired what bird it was, the Indians pointed to the dove, which it appears was held so sacred among them, that neither man, woman, nor child would

injure it: indeed, the Mandans declared that even their dogs

instinctively respected this bird.

Similar traditions are found among the South American Indians. Captain Fitzroy relates that the aborigines near Valdivia point out a mountain called Theghin, or Theg-theghin, (which means to crackle or sparkle like fire,) on which they say that their early progenitors escaped from the deluge. Some writers have imagined that the Indians are descended from the Jews, and have taken much pains to support their theory; and at first sight these traditions would appear to favour their views: but when it is considered that the knowledge of the occurrence of a deluge is by no means confined to nations who can be presumed to have derived it from the Jews; that it is spread over Asia, and familiar to the Hindoos and Chinese; it loses all weight as an argument in support of the Jewish origin of the Indians. The absence of circumcision, the paucity of beard, and the custom of eradicating the few hairs that

heaps, consisting of rifles, hatchets, swords, belts, knives, blankets, wampum, watches, beads, brooches, furs, and a variety of other articles of Indian utility and taste-amounting, in the whole, according to the estimate of Captain Brant, to upwards of a thousand dollars a side. By the side of the stakes were seated a group of the aged chiefs-grave and reverend seignors,' whose beards had been silvered by the frosts of many winters, and whose visages gave evidence of the toils of war and the chase.

"The combatants numbered about six hundred upon a side, young and middle-aged men-nimble of foot, athletic, and muscular. Their countenances beamed with animation and high hope. In order to the free and unfettered use of their sinewy limbs, their persons were naked, with the exception of a single garment like an apron, or kilt, fastened around the waist, and descending nearly to the knee., The area of the play-ground was designated by two pair of byes,' placed at about thirty rods distant from each other, and the goals of each pair about thirty feet apart. The combatants ranged themselves in parallel lines on each side of the area, facing inward, and leaving a space between them of about ten rods in breadth. Their bats were three feet six inches in length, curved at the lower end somewhat in the form of a ladle; the broad part for striking the ball being formed of net-work, woven of thongs of untanned deer-skin, strained to the tension of tight elasticity. The ball, large as a middling-sized apple, was also composed of elastic materials.

"On one side of the area, near the centre of the line, and in a conspicuous place, were seated a body of elderly sachems of each nation, with knives and tally-sticks, to score the game. The rules governing the game were somewhat intricate. None of the players were allowed to touch the ball with hand or foot, until driven beyond the 'byes' or land-marks. It was then thrown back by hand toward or into the centre of the area, when the game proceeded as before. Their mode of counting the game was peculiar, the tallies-men not being in all cases bound by arbitrary rules, but

left to the exercise of a certain degree of discretionary power.

Each passage of the ball between the goals, at the end of the playground, counted one, so long as the contest was nearly equal; but, for the purpose of protracting the game, whenever one party became considerably in advance of the other, the tally chiefs were allowed to check or curtail their count in proportion to the excess. For instance, if the leading party had run up a regular count to thirty, while their opponents had numbered but fifteen, the talliesmen, at their discretion, and by consent of each other, though unknown to the players, would credit the winning party with only two notches for three passages of the ball-varying from time to time, according to the state of the game. The object of this course was to protract the game, and to increase the amusement, while despondency upon either side was prevented, and the chance of ultimate victory increased. Frequently, by this discretionary mode of counting, the game was continued three or four days.

"The game on this occasion was commenced by about sixty

players on a side, who advanced from their respective lines with bats in their hands, into the centre of the play-ground. Of this number about twenty were stationed at the end land-marks, to guard the passage of the ball. The players who were to begin were apparently mingled promiscuously together. All things being thus ready, a beautiful maiden, richly dressed in the native costume of her people, wearing a red tiara plumed with eagle's feathers, and glittering with bracelets and other ornaments of silver, came bounding like a gazelle into the area, with the ball, which she placed upon the ground in the centre. Instantly the welkin rang with the shouts of the whole multitude of spectators, and the play began; while the bright-eyed maiden danced back, and joined her own circle among the surrounding throng. The match was begun by two of the opposing players, who advanced to the ball, and with their united bats raised it from the ground to such an elevation as gave a chance for a fair stroke; when, quick as lightning, it was sped through the air almost with the swiftness of a bullet. Much depends upon the first stroke, and great skill

1s exerted to obtain it.

"The match was played with great spirit, and the display of agility and muscular strength was surprising. Every nerve was strung; and so great were the exertions of the players, that each set was relieved by fresh hands every fifteen or twenty minutes; thus alternating, and allowing every player of the whole number to perform his part, until the game was finished. The scene was full of excitement and animation. The principal chief entered fully into the enjoyment, and by his explanations to his guest heightened its interest, which, of itself, the latter declared to have afforded him a greater degree of satisfaction than any game or pastime that he had ever beheld. The contest was continued three days, at the end of which, after a severe struggle, the Senecas were proclaimed the victors, sweeping the stakes, to the great mortification of the proud-spirited Mohawks, the head of the confederacy."

THE MAGICIAN'S VISITER.

It was at the close of a fine autumnal day, and the shades of evening were beginning to gather over the city of Florence, when a low quick rap was heard at the door of Cornelius Agrippa, and shortly afterwards a stranger was introduced into the apartment in which the philosopher was sitting at his studies. The stranger, though finely formed and of courteous demeanour, had a certain indefinable air of mystery about him, which excited awe, if, indeed, it had not a repellent effect. His years it was difficult to guess, for the marks of youth and age were blended in his features in a most extraordinary manner. There was not a furrow in his cheek or a wrinkle on his brow; and his large black eye beamed with all the brilliancy and vivacity of youth; but his stately figure was bent, apparently beneath the weight of years; his hair, although thick and clustering, was grey; and his voice was feeble and tremulous, yet its tones were of the most ravishing and soulsearching melody. His costume was that of a Florentine gentleman; but he had a staff like that of a palmer in his hand; and a silken sash-inscribed with Oriental characters-was bound around his waist. His face was deadly pale; but every feature of it was singularly beautiful, and its expression was that of profound wisdom, mingled with poignant sorrow.

"Pardon me, learned sir," said he, addressing the philosopher, "but your fame has travelled into all lands, and has reached all ears; and I could not leave the fair city of Florence without seeking an interview with one who is its greatest boast and ornament."

You are right welcome, sir," returned Agrippa; "but I fear that your trouble and curiosity will be but ill repaid. I am simply one, who, instead of devoting my days, as do the wise, to the acquirement of wealth and honour, have passed long years in painful and unprofitable study, in endeavouring to unravel the secrets of nature, and initiating myself in the mysteries of the occult sciences."

"Talkest thou of long years!" echoed the stranger, and a melancholy smile played over his features : "thou, who hast scarcely seen fourscore since thou left'st thy cradle, and for whom the quiet grave is now waiting, eager to clasp thee in her sheltering arms! I was among the tombs to-day, -the still and solemn tombs: I saw them smiling in the last beams of the setting sun. When I was a boy, I used to wish to be like that sun; his career was so long, so bright, so glorious. But to-night I thought it was better to slumber amongst those tombs than to be like him. To-night he sank behind the hill, apparently to repose; but to-morrow he must renew his course, and run the same dull and unvaried, but toilsome and unquiet race. There is no grave for him, and the night and morning dews are the tears that he sheds over his tyrannous destiny."

Agrippa was a deep observer and admirer of external nature, and of all her phenomena, and had often gazed upon the scene which the stranger described; but the feelings and ideas which it awakened in the mind of the latter were so different from anything which he had himself experienced that he could not help, for a season, gazing upon him in speechless wonder. His guest, however, speedily resumed the discourse.

"But I trouble you, I trouble you; -to my purpose in making you this visit. I have heard strange tales of a wondrous mirror, which your potent art has enabled you to construct, in which whosoever looks may see the distant or the dead on whom he is desirous again to fix his gaze. My eyes see nothing in this outward visible world which can be pleasing to their sight. The grave has closed over all I loved. Time has carried down its stream everything that once contributed to my enjoyment. The world is a vale of tears; but among all the tears which water that sad valley, not one is shed for me:-the fountain in my own heart, too, is dried up. I would once more again look upon the face which I loved. I would see that eye more bright, and that step more stately, than the antelope's; that brow, the broad smooth page on which God had inscribed his fairest characters. I would gaze on all I loved and all I lost. Such a gaze would be dearer to my heart than all the world has to offer to me, except the grave-except the grave."

The passionate pleading of the stranger had such an effect upon Agrippa (who was not used to exhibit his miracle of art to the eyes of all who desired to look in it, although he was often tempted by exorbitant presents and high honours to do so), that he readily consented to grant the request of his extraordinary visiter.

"Whom wouldst thou see?" he inquired.

"My child, my own sweet Miriam," answered the stranger. Cornelius immediately caused every ray of the light of heaven to be excluded from the chamber, placed the stranger on his right hand, and commenced chanting in a low soft tone, and in a strange language, some lyrical verses, to which the stranger thought he heard occasionally a response; but it was a sound so faint and indistinct, that he hardly knew whether it existed anywhere but in his own fancy. As Cornelius continued his chant, the room gradually became illuminated; but whence the light proceeded it was impossible to discover. At length the stranger plainly perceived a large mirror which covered the whole of the extreme end of the apartment, and over the surface of which a dense haze or cloud seemed to be rapidly passing.

"Died she in wedlock's holy bands?" inquired Cornelius. "She was a virgin spotless as the snow."

"How many years have passed away since the grave closed over her?"

A cloud gathered on the stranger's brow, and he answered somewhat impatiently, "Many, many; more than I now have time to number."

"Nay," said Agrippa, "but I must know. For every ten years that have elapsed since her death once must I wave this wand; and when I have waved it for the last time, you will see her figure in yon mirror."

"Wave on, then," said the stranger, and groaned bitterly : "wave on, and take heed that thou be not weary."

Cornelius Agrippa gazed on his strange guest with something of anger, but he excused his want of courtesy on the ground of the probable extent of his calamities. He then waved his magic wand many times, but, to his consternation, it seemed to have lost its virtue. Turning again to the stranger, he exclaimed,

"Who and what art thou, man? Thy presence troubles me. According to all the rules of my art, this wand has already described twice two hundred years, still has the surface of the mirror experienced no alteration. Say, dost thou mock me, and did no such person ever exist as thou hast described to me?"

"Wave on, wave on!" was the stern and only reply which this interrogatory extracted from the stranger.

The curiosity of Agrippa, although he was himself a dealer in wonders, began now to be excited; and a mysterious feeling of awe forbade him to desist from waving his wand, much as he doubted the sincerity of his visiter. As his arm grew slack, he heard the deep solemn tones of the stranger exclaiming, "Wave on, wave on!" and at length, after his wand, according to the calculations of his art, had described a period of above twelve hundred years, the cloud cleared away from the surface of the mirror, and the stranger, with an exclamation of delight, arose and gazed rapturously upon the scene which was there represented. An exquisitely rich and romantic prospect was before him. In the distance rose lofty mountains, crowned with cedars; a rapid stream rolled in the middle; and in the fore-ground were seen camels grazing, a rill trickling by, in which some sheep were quenching their thirst, and a lofty palm-tree, beneath whose shade a young female, of exquisite beauty, and richly habited in the costume of the East, was sheltering herself from the rays of the noontide sun.

"'Tis she! 'tis she!" shouted the stranger; and he was rushing towards the mirror, but was prevented by Cornelius, who said,

" Forbear, rash man, to quit this spot! with each step that thou advancest towards the mirror, the image will become fainter; and shouldst thou approach too near, it will vanish away entirely."

Thus warned, he resumed his station, but his agitation was so excessive that he was obliged to lean on the arm of the philosopher for support, while, from time to time, he uttered incoherent expressions of wonder, delight, and lamentation.

"'Tis she! 'tis she! even as she looked while living! How beautiful she is! Miriam, my child, canst thou not speak to me? By Heaven she moves! she smiles! Oh speak to me a single word! or only breathe, or sigh! Alas! all's silent-dull and desolate as this heart! Again that smile! that smile, the remembrance of which a thousand winters have not been able to freeze up in my heart! Old man, it is in vain to hold me! I must, will clasp her."

As he uttered the last words he rushed franticly towards the mirror; the scene represented within it faded away, the cloud gathered again over its surface, and the stranger sunk senseless to

the earth.

When he recovered his consciousness, he found himself in the arms of Agrippa, who was chafing his temples, and gazing on him with looks of wonder and fear. He immediately rose on his feet with restored strength, and, pressing the hand of his host, he said, "Thanks, thanks, for thy courtesy and thy kindness, and for the sweet, but painful sight which thou hast presented to my eyes."

As he spake these words, he put a purse into the hand of Cornelius; but the latter returned it, saying,

"Nay, nay, keep thy gold, friend. I know not, indeed, that a Christian man dare take it; but be that as it may, I shall esteem myself sufficiently repaid if thou wilt tell me who thou art."

"Behold!" said the stranger, pointing to a large historical picture which hung on the left-hand of the room.

"I see," said the philosopher, "an exquisite work of art, the production of one of our best and earliest artists, representing our Saviour carrying his cross."

"But look again!" said the stranger, fixing his keen dark eyes intently on him, and pointing to a figure on the left hand of the picture.

Cornelius gazed, and saw with wonder what he had not observed before the extraordinary resemblance which this figure bore to the stranger, of whom, indeed, it might be said to be a portrait.

"That," said Cornelius, with an emotion of horror, "is intended to represent the unhappy infidel who smote the divine sufferer for not walking faster, and was, therefore, condemned to walk the earth himself until the period of that sufferer's second coming."

"'Tis I! 'tis I!" exclaimed the stranger; and, rushing out of the house, rapidly disappeared.

Then did Cornelius Agrippa know that he had been conversing with the Wandering Jew. -Ackermann's "Forget Me Not," for 1828.

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every department of nature, I bend my eye not only upon the animal and vegetable objects that lie beside my path, but also to the structure of that earth which God hath given to the children of men. I observe, therefore, that the rock on which the soil rests is granite, which at some remote period was upheaved from its bed and broken into ten thousand fragments: many of these fragments are strewed over the sides of the hills, and called, in the language of geologists, boulders. At first sight, we ask, perhaps, by what mighty torrent they had been swept along and left in their present position; and the fancy, taking the hint, provides us with But a closer attention will a deluge adequate for that purpose.

soon teach us, however, that whatever effect the flood described by Moses, or any other vast inundation, may have had in transporting such boulders to distant places elsewhere, those that are scattered over the island of which we are speaking, are nearly, if not exactly, in their native beds : for they are of the same nature as the rock upon which they are resting, and we see them in many spots piled upon each other, as if the hand of some gigantic builder had been employed in their adjustment. We can easily understand how the breaking forth of waters might have lodged the huge masses of stone which we see around us in a valley or upon the side of a hill, but we are at a loss to conceive how it could rear a pyramid of several stories resting upon a simple or compound base. We are hence compelled to resort to another hypothesis, and assume that these are the remains of some stu

pendous piles which Nature reared up when the rocks were torn from their bases, rent asunder and parted into fragments of every kind of form and size. The decomposing effect of the atmosphere has reduced the smaller ones to sand and soil, which the water has carried towards the sea, and spread them out into plains for the cultivation of rice, herbs, and various kinds of grain. The larger pieces have been able to lose much by the corroding effects of time, without losing all. We readily perceive the reason of that process which reduced the rock to shivers, that they might by further reduction afford a pabulum for the growth of vegetables; but we do not see at once why these huge boulders should still be left to encumber the ground which they cannot fertilise. But if our pursuit should happen to be after plants and flowers, we should not be long in finding out how greatly we were indebted to the protecting shade of these dishevelled masses; for wherever they lie in any abundance, there we find something to requite the toil of the botanist. They are not unfrequently heaped together so as to form a labyrinth, into which I have sometimes forced my way, and picked up something that was lost to all, save to the "prying eye" of the botanist. What was said of the miner, applies in some sort to him: "He setteth an end to darkness, and searcheth out all perfection." (Job, xxviii. 3.) These stones, which seemed to have been thrown about at random, without any regard to utility, are thus found to be the benefactors and patrons of the "weeds" and shrubs that flourish under their protection. They shelter them effectually from the north-east wind, one of the most "sweeping breezes" that I ever encountered. The pines or mountain fir of Southern China (Pinus sinensis), and a few grasses, alone seem able to endure its biting edge. The eye of the Creator in gracious forecast was directed to this fact, and he has made an arrangement for counteracting its effects in the wild strewment of boulders upon which we have been commenting.

Among these rocky fragments, and the herbs that grow between, the buffalo often browses. At the sight of a foreigner he starts, rears his head, and stands in a steadfast and most suspicious gaze. It is obvious that this is the effect of fear; but whether this fear will prompt the animal to flee from the supposed danger, or to forestall it by an assault, is what perplexes the mind of the stranger. He stands in doubt, unwilling to retreat, afraid to go forward. The buffalo is in the same predicament, and cannot decide whether he ought to turn his face or his back towards the unwelcome visitor. He seems to have taken a hint from the rulers of his country, who are afraid of that from which they have nothing to apprehend, and put on the air and attitude of menace and defiance, while their hearts quail within them. I am half serious when I say he seems to have taken a hint from the rulers of his country; for in other places the buffalo grazes amidst the long and stiffculmed grass, unmindful of the stranger, with all the tranquillity of the cow or the ox among ourselves, and seldom puts on a threatening aspect unless he is disturbed when luxuriating in a slough or mud plash for this creature resembles the swine or wild-boar in its fondness for water; and this instinctive love of moisture is so great, that it matters not at all whether the pool be sweet or fetid, clear or foul. The Chinese, whose systems of zoology are somewhat eccentric, often select the most characteristic feature in the shape or habit of an animal, and give it a prominent place in their descriptions. In this, the lover of Nature will allow, consists the true genius of the zoologist; for his art lies not in the enumeration of a multitude of particulars, but in the choice of such as are essential. The Chinese, for example, call the buffalo the water-kine, in allusion to the propensity just mentioned, and say, by way of defining its chief characteristic, that it walks stooping, on account of the comparative shortness of the

fore-feet. Owing to this circumstance it runs with a peculiar leaping motion, and with great speed, though the constrained manner in which it progresses when advancing slowly might not prepare us to look for it. A friend who saw a buffalo and a tiger encounter in some public spectacle at Java told me, that when the tiger was in the act of bounding upon the buffalo, the latter tossed him to a great height into the air, and then ere the discomfited creature could reach the ground he received a second rebuff from the head of his nimble antagonist. I need not remind the reader that the swiftness of the hare is not a little aided by the comparative shortness of the fore-legs, which allows the hind ones to strike the ground with an elastic spring like the recoil of a bow.

A little boy is often set to watch a herd of buffaloes, and to prevent their straying to a distance. Sometimes we see him tending a single animal, holding it by a cord which is attached to a ring that passes through the partition between the nostrils, the septum narium of the anatomist. At the sight of the fan kwei, or foreigner, the buffalo rears his head, and his little keeper begins to cry out as if the knife of the assassin were held at his throat. He is afraid that the creature, in a wild fit of terror, should hurry away regardless of the "hook in his nose," or "the crying of the driver." At this the good-natured traveller retires behind a fence, or the jutting shade of some boulder; and so the boy and his buffalo are at once released from their fears, and fall into the same repose of thought in which they were when the ill-boding phenomenon made its appearance.

Upon this island of which I am speaking, many a time has the foreigner smarted from the sturdy strokes of the well-plied bamboo; but not a few times have I strayed alone and never met with anything in the shape of ill-usage. Chinese who met in these rambles would sometimes caution me against going too far, and tell me that bad men would assault and beat me. My answer to these monitory hints was uniformly, "The Chinese are not bad men, they are not strangers to what propriety requires," and then pursued my way to let them see that I felt no fear, because I meant no harm. Arm yourself with gentleness and good will, and let men see that your courage and confidence are founded upon the feelings which belong to these qualities, and in China, and many other places where it has been my lot to travel, you will have a panoply that will repei in ninety-nine instances out of a hundred any attack upon your person.

In one of my early visits to the island, I encountered a person of great courtesy and polish on his return from a little hamlet in the neighbourhood. Seeing that I was in quest of plants, his curiosity was awakened to ask for what purpose I gathered them. Instead of directly answering his question, I asked him the names of several in my bag; but not being much skilled in such matters, he called some peasants to settle the points for him. By way of letting him see what I wanted in the way of information, I took a flying sketch of a tree hard by, and then asked its native name, which he most obligingly wrote down among my memoranda. In return for this kindness I gave him two or three volumes that lay at the bottom of the bag. With these he seemed extremely pleased, and explained to the bystanders, who now began to flock around us, in what way he had obtained them. "I," said he, "gave the stranger a few hints respecting the names and uses of herbs, and in requital he gave me these books." And then, as if determined not to be outdone in kindness, he conducted me to the cottage of some acquaintance, and asked them to give me tea and such hospitality as their means could afford. They brought me some tea and a cigar: the latter I declined, and the former I sipped at my leisure; for although I easily conform to the China

man's usage of drinking tea without milk or sugar when presented at the house of the more wealthy, fuming with a most grateful aroma, I do not feel the same relish when it has long been "brewing" upon the well-soddened leaves. But a thorough-paced traveller always accepts the will for the deed, and thanks the kind hostess with all his heart who offers him a dish of tea which she has just warmed over a smoking fire of dried grass. And I may just remind the reader that in southern parts of China, where wood is scarce, and consequently very dear, the poor people fetch the long grass from the sides and brows of the mountains, bind it up in bundles, and stack it for a store of winter fuel. As the houses are not provided with a chimney, the smoke, which rises from the smouldering grass in prodigious quantities, curls and rolls wher- | ever it lists, to the great discomfort of the industrious housewife. The writer was once telling a circle of country friends, that in the different countries upon the west side of the American continent, the houses had no such provision as a tube, flue, or chimney to let out the smoke. "Where does the smoke go, then?" they all asked at once with the most eager curiosity. "Why, into your eyes, to be sure," was the reply. There was a good deal of banter but some truth in this reply, for the moisture distributed over the eyeballs attracts the smoke and condenses it upon the surface of that organ, and hence the reason of that apparent eagerness to insinuate itself into a place where it can least be endured. But, in adverting to the inconvenience of the smoke, I had nearly forgotten the bestowment of the fuel. The hills, from exposure to winds and the hungry nature of the soil, produce nothing in the shape of a tree save a few stunted pines, which are never meddled with by the poor, but by a kind arrangement they are made to yield a plenteous crop of tall and sturdy grasses (chiefly of the Andropogon family), which the needy find an excellent substitute for wood. How hard would it be to find a spot where some lively marks of the Creator's goodness are not to be seen! The earth is indeed "full of his goodness."

We have just referred to a kind arrangement; let us allude to an instance of adaptation. Rice, as the reader in all probability knows, is cultivated in a soil covered with water, or, in different words, in mud, well prepared by stirring and manure for its reception. In the early part of the year a fertile spot of ground is chosen, into which the seed is poured with an unsparing hand. After it has germinated and the sprouts have attained a length of about six inches, it is dug up and parted into tufts for transplant- | ing. These plants are set in lines, at proper intervals from each other, by the hands of workmen, who execute their business with great despatch and adroitness. The bed into which these are thrust consist, as we have intimated, of soil well mixed and covered with water. In the labour of bringing the ground to this state, the buffalo performs no unimportant part, as he draws a plough of rude and original mechanism, in many a tedious bout, from one side of the field to the other. The plough stirs up and parts the sluggish glebe, while the feet of the animal assist not a little in its subacting, and its incorporation with the water. The wading in mud from morn to noon, and from noon to dewy eve, is not a work for which either our horse or our ox is calculated, as those know who are familiar with the history and habits of these invaluable animals. The horse often lets the most casual observer see that he has no predilection for moisture; for if a raised terrace happens to cross the field where he pastures, and the night be wet, he stations himself upon the path where it is driest, though the shelter of tree or fence might seem to invite him to a different situation. But the buffalo, the water-kine of the Chinese, is "in his element" while at this work, and therefore takes pleasure in what the horse or the beeve would feel pain and inconvenience.

How nicely then has God adapted the disposition of the animal for the nature of the work for which it is required! Foreknowledge, acting upon a system, is seen from the beginning to the end. The streams of water tumbling down the deep ravines and dells, sweep large quantities of earth with them, which is deposited at the bottom of some withdrawing nook, and through the accumulating force of time produces a wide-spread alluvium for the fields of rice. The ground is appropriated by the perseverance of man, laid out in numerous plots by means of banks and terraces, and then, as the water still continues to descend, a stone is always at hand for a copious irrigation. To help him in the work, the buffalo comes to his aid, with a strength of body and a peculiarity of instinct or habitude that exactly fit him for it.

One of the greatest nuisances a traveller meets with in many parts of China, as well as upon the island which is supposed now to be the sphere of our imaginary excursion, is met in the everlasting "yelping" of the cowardly curs that haunt almost every dwelling. Fierce without courage, and fearful without the sagacity of kindness, they keep up an incessant barking from the time of your appearance till long after you are out of sight. Neither the threats of the master, nor the proffered friendship of the stranger, can pacify them for a moment. Amidst the noise thus made, the guest and the host can scarcely hear each other speak; and sometimes this is so intolerable, that I have cut short my visit and departed very abruptly. Some who have visited similar situations have dealt blows among, or hurled stones at these peace-breakers, which affronts the Chinaman without taming his dog;-a practice I seldom adopted, for fear of undoing all that gentleness and good humour might have done for me. Now and then I would pursue the terror-stricken brutes with my hat or my bag, as if I meant to carry them off, which generally excited a good deal of mirth among the bystanders, and alleviated the nuisance of these unwelcome salutations. As these dogs are not trained for any purpose, nor caressed or educated as pets, one is ready to ask, what are they good for? To this the Chinaman replies, by telling you, that when young and delicately fed they compose a dish more savoury and tender than a young pig. Besides this, they are excellent alarums, and never omit to give notice of danger: thus they warn their owners by their fear, though they cannot protect them by their courage.

In the island of which we are speaking there is a romantic valley, remarkable for the rugged steepness of the slopes, and the crystal stream that rolls at the bottom. A Chinaman of an enterprising turn of mind contrived to direct a part of this stream, and so to guide it, by the application of conduits, as to obtain a fall of water to work his water-mill. The workmanship was rudely finished, but the ingenuity of invention was fully adequate to the purpose. The water-wheel was what is called an overshot wheel, or the ficats or buckets so contrived as to receive the water that fell from above. Upon the same shaft was a vertical wheel, with pegs instead of teeth; these teeth acted upon a horizontal wheel, which was mortised to the upper end of the axis on which the millstone turned. By this mechanical arrangement the water communicated its motion to the upper millstone, and was the first in the chain of instrumental causation in the business of grinding the corn. The hopper or vessel for dispensing the corn to the mill was very simple; it was a square chest with a hole in the centre, and, resting upon the top of the axle, revolved round with the millstone. The reader is aware that if a vessel be filled with grain it will not part freely with it, though there be many holes in the bottom, while it remains without shaking. To make the wheat run freely through the hole at the bottom of the Chinaman's hopper, was a matter that required a little contrivance; a requirement which he has fulfilled

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