terity upon the stream of time, only rendered imperishable by that which destroys other things. Good night, Mr. Dry. Now Master Randal I am ready to accompany you; shall we sing a psalm before we go?"

"No," replied Randal abruptly, and picking up his hat, he led the way out of the room.

The inn was situated near the extremity of the town; and at the distance of about two hundred paces from the door, the two strangers emerged from between the lines of houses, and found themselves amongst the hedgerows. Without any hesitation as to the track which he was to pursue, the elder gentleman mounted a stile to the right and took a path, which, crossing the fields, wound gradually up over one slope after another till it reached the brow of the hill on which Bishop's Merton House was placed.

It was a fine clear moonlight night; and at the distance of about a mile from the mansion they caught a sight of its wide front extending along the hill till the wings were concealed by a little wood, behind which, as they walked on, the whole building was speedily lost.

"It seems a fine old place," said Barecolt to his companion. "It puts me in mind of the Escurial."

"More likely puts you in mind of the stocks," said Randal, "for you have both seen and felt the one and never set eyes upon the other."

"How can you tell that I never saw it?" exclaimed his companion; "you have not had the dandling of me ever since I was a baby in arms."

"Heaven forbid !" cried Randal, "but I know you never have seen it because you say you have. However, you must either speak truth to-night, or hold your tongue, or we are ruined. I did not stop you in your course with that round-headed knave at the inn, because I knew that you must void a certain quantity of falsehood in the day, and it was necessary to get rid of it before you came up here; for this young lord is not one to take counterfeit coin."

"The monster!" exclaimed Barecolt; "there is not a more cruel or barbarous creature in the earth than

the man who drives from his door all the sweet little children of the imagination which you call lies. He is wanting in all human charity. Give me the generous and confiding soul who believes every thing that is said to him, and enjoys the story of a traveller who relates to him wild scenes in lands he never has visited, just as much as if it was all as true as history

"Which is itself a lie," rejoined the other. "Had this young man's father been alive you would have found a person after your own heart. He was a man of vast capabilities of belief. His mind was but a looking-glass, always representing what was before it; his religion was in the last sermon he had heard, his politics in the last broadsheet, his opinions those of his companions for the hour, his taste the newest mode that he had seen. He was the quintessence of an ordinaryminded man. But his son is a very different being. But do you not see a strange light shining through the wood before us? Hark, there is an alarmbell !" And hurrying his pace he issued forth from the wood some three hundred yards farther on, where the cause of the light they had seen became too visible.

Rising up from one of the flanking towers of the old house in large white volumes to the very sky, was a tall column of smoke spreading out towards the top, while from the building itself poured forth the rushing flame like a huge beacon illuminating all the country round. Each window in that tower and the neighbouring wing emitted the same blaze; and it was very evident that, although a number of persons were seen moving about upon the terrace, engaged apparently in the endeavour to extinguish the fire, that it was making its way rapidly towards the rest of the house. The two strangers ran as fast as possible to give assistance. But before I pursue their adventures on that night, I must turn to speak of all that had taken place within the mansion of Bishop's Merton during the evening preceding the disaster which I have described.

EVERY one knows something respecting Tahiti-the beauty of its scenery, and its hospitable inhabitants; for who has not read the narrative of Cook's voyages, or Cowper's verses on the "gentle savage" whom the illustrious navigator brought from the simple usages of his native island to witness the ever-varying features of our complicated civilization. Although the group of the Society Islands was discovered by the Spanish navigator Quiros, it is to the admirable and unrivalled sagacity of Cook that we are indebted for those vivid descriptions which have interested all Europe, and have been translated into so many languages. The surpassing beauty of these remote islands, the splendour and utility of their previously unknown vegetable productions, and above all, a variety of our race differing in complexion as well as in social condition from the rest of mankind, at once mild and energetic, slothful and lively, could not fail to arrest the attention of the most incurious. The Polynesian race to which we were introduced, has its own national character, no less distinct from that of the laborious and patient African, than the nut-brown complexion of the Tahitian differs from the jet-black of an inhabitant of the Gold coast. Probably no two races of mankind exhibit greater contrasts than the stern, melancholy and vindictive American, cherishing vengeance for years, as if he had been descended from the first murderer, making war as he hunts, by stratagem, and more like a tiger than a man: and the Polynesian, on the other hand, cheerful and volatile, fighting in large bodies in the open field or in warcanoes, regardless, it is true, of human life or suffering, but not sullenly and enduringly vindictive.

The peculiar state of society observed in the Polynesian islands may be easily accounted for: the territory

they inhabited was of small extent, and they had no wild animals to chase, but were compelled to become fishers and cultivators; thus, according to the modern theory of colonisation, dispersion was prevented, and men living in communities necessarily made more progress, and framed more complicated systems of policy and mythology. The ancients believed that the Ichthyophagous tribes were the most barbarous of our species; but a more extensive knowledge of the races of mankind has refuted this idea. The Indians of the islands and deeply-indented shores of north-west America are a far more civilizable race than the wanderers amidst the boundless forests, in the same manner as the Polynesian is superior to the inhabitants of the islandcontinent of New Holland. The reason of this appears to be, that insular and coast tribes must know how to construct a canoe and manufacture fishing implements; hence more manual dexterity, as well as more extensive views of natural phenomena. Such maritime tribes, even under the great est diversity of climate, are remarkably uniform, because the temperature of the sea and its capacity for sustaining animal life is every where more uniform than that of the land, producing a similarity of character, the result of similar pursuits. In this point of view, strange as it may appear, no two races are more alike than the Esquimaux of Greenland and the islanders of the South-Sea: we find among both a high degree of manual dexterity, and skill in managing their canoes; we find in both a systematic and rather complex mythology, and the same joyous volatile nature delighting in the feast and the dance.

The Polynesian, however, has more points of interest than the Greenlander: instead of everlasting icebergs and barren rocks, a cloudy summer and dark polar winter, he lives amidst

a lovely scenery and the most varied phenomena with which man can be brought into contact. We may easily form a general notion of the appearance of an island in the tropical part of the Pacific. Animmense and lofty mountain emerges from the ocean, its summit usually immersed in clouds, and gives origin to numerous alpine streams. But from time to time more awful events take place, and the crater of the volcano pours forth streams of molten rocks, producing barren spaces, which contrast strongly with the surrounding verdure. The base of the mountain is split into deep ravines, which, as they approach the shore, expand into fertile valleys, abounding in bread-fruit trees and mulberries, and plantations of Arum and sweet potato. As the valleys expand towards the sea, we observe that the island is surrounded by a breakwater of coral, and thus appears with respect to its zone of corals like a picture in its frame; while the smooth pellucid water between the coral and the island, the favourite resort of fishes, forms a contrast with the ever restless surge which rolls without. Nor is the value of the natural productions inferior to this beauty: the forest which delights the eye also affords food and clothing; the cocoanut, the plantain, and the bread-fruit tree afford a never-failing supply of food; and the bark of the Broussonetia supplies a cloth suited to the climate. To crown all, the people, generous as the soil they inhabit, welcome their foreign visitors with the kind and prodigal hospitality so consonant to their nature; and to the imaginative mind, the golden age appeared to linger in the groves of Tahiti.

A more close inspection of these blooming scenes soon dissipates the dreams of poets and the speculations of philosophers; and the Utopia of a Rousseau or a Condorcet, like a southern Austral continent, still remains to be discovered. On the con

trary, a more intimate acquaintance with the Hesperides of the South-Sea is little creditable either to the primeval simplicity of the islanders, or to the influence which civilized man exerts

The

over his less fortunate fellows. Tahitians, when visited by Cook, practised infanticide, offered human sacrifices, had an Arreoy society, were engaged in perpetual wars, and gave themselves up to the most unbridled licentiousness. If the islanders were thus depraved, their early intercourse with civilized man was to them the source of pure and unmitigated evil—its only consequence was, that the most odious vices of civilized life were engrafted on the natural and inevitable vices of barbarians. That this statement is not one of sickly sentimentalism is obvious from the decisive fact, that since the period of Cook's voyages the population of the islands has been decreasing with fearful rapidity-a truth which proves that the amount of human misery has been going on in a ratio, whose increase is in proportion to the extent of their intercourse with Europeans. According to Captain Cook, the number of inhabitants of Tahiti amounted to two hundred thou sand; and his learned companion Dr. John Reinhold Forster, after a more elaborate calculation, founded upon the number of war-canoes furnished by each district, estimated the popula tion of Tahiti and the adjacent island of Eimeo at 150,000: at present, the number of inhabitants of the two islands is short of 13,000. In the Sandwich Islands, the same melancholy result has taken place, although not to the same amount. The population of this group was supposed by Cook to amount to 400,000; in 1832 it was 132,000, and in 1836 it had sunk to 110,000.* It is obvious, therefore, that making every allowance for exaggerated statements, the number of deaths far exceeds that of births; and that sooner or later the race will become extinct, and this interesting people will ultimately disappear from the globe, like those strange animals, concerning whose history geologists are so much interested.

If we investigate with a moderate degree of care the causes of this rapid decrease of population, we will find that they are abundantly intelligible and obvious. We will specify in the first place the partial introduction of

fire-arms-we say partial-for, if the supply had corresponded to the demand, so that the different chiefs had retained the same relative strength, no additional stimulus to war would have been given. As it happened, the chief whose district was most frequented, obtained the greatest supply; and when, in addition, he obtained the aid of a few runaway sailors, his power excited jealousy, and led to incessant warfare. This evil, from its nature, was only temporary, and led to its own cure, by the establishment of one superior chief: so that, by putting an end to petty warfare, it ultimately proved a benefit both to the Society and Sandwich Islands, although much suffering and evil was encountered during the process. Two evils of a far more fatal tendency remain to be noticed-the introduction of spirituous liquors and distillation, and of disease, the result of licentious intercourse; and the combined operation of these causes has tainted the constitutions, and shortened the days of vast numbers. Speaking of the Sandwich Islands, Mr. Bishop informs us, "that, at the present day, there are a large number of childless families who have no heir to inherit their little property. Perhaps, not one in four of the families now existing, have children of their own alive. Many have no family at all, and a great majority of the children born in the islands die before they are two years old." Such is a brief view of this painful topic, and it is truly mortifying to reflect that the visits of civilized men, brought up amidst the philosophy and morality of the eighteenth century, should prove as fatal to the uncivilized tribes, as were the swords of Cortez and Pizarro in an age of barbarous fanaticism.

It is, however, pleasing to remember, that if our age has its evils, it also possesses its advantages-if our fathers performed the part of manstealers on the coast of Africa, we have emancipated the negro-and if South-Sea whalers and runaway convicts have demoralized the islands of the Pacific, we have reclaimed the inhabitants from idolatry, and placed them in such a position of improved intellect and morality, that their progress in the right direction was certain, provided they had been left to themselves. How these fair hopes have been blighted, and the morals, even of

men emerging from barbarism, have been deteriorated by the interference of the infidel and the Jesuit, it will be instructive to consider.

But, before entering into any details respecting Tahiti, or the Sandwich Islands, we are desirous of saying a few words respecting a work, whose title we have mentioned at the commencement of this article. The work of Moerenhout only merits attention in connection with the present question: the author a merchant, and at present, we believe, residing in Tahiti, can be characterized by no other appellation than that of a thoroughly unprincipled adventurer. This Moerenhout is, we believe, by birth a Belgian. Some time ago he went to South America, and carried on business at Valparaiso; he afterwards settled at Tahiti, and obtained the situation of consul for the United States. Here, by his own account, he sold spirits to the natives, interfered in the affairs of the island, and in short, proved a pest to everyone -and was finally dismissed from the American consulate for breach of trust. While in Paris, some years since, he published his voyages-and what was worse, he put his name to the work, and by a singular fatality, the title of American consul is appended, so that, by publishing this title-page, M. Moerenhout has, as it were, constructed his own pillory. We now proceed to make good our assertions, to which we may add, that there is not a page in his two volumes, the title-page inclu sive, which does not contain a falsehood.

Moerenhout professes to give a great amount of new information on all matters relating to the islands of the Pacific: we shall allow him to speak for himself. "I owe," says he, "to the singularity of a situation altogether peculiar, the advantage of having obtained information concerning Oceania and the Oceanians, which no one could accomplish so well as myself neither the navigators, who move from place to place—nor the missionaries, on account of the prejudices proper to their calling; information, the want of which has rendered the conduct of the Indians (he means Polynesians) an inexplicable enigma up to the present day."-(Preface, p. vi. The mode in which our worthy obtained his information respecting the mythology of Tahiti is rather curious,

namely, in nocturnal conferences with an old priest, apparently a concealed idolater. After some edifying discourse, Moerenhout assures the priest that his national god, Taaroa, and the God of the Christians is the same. The priest then expresses himself— "Ah! why did not your predecessors think as you do? We should then have retained the religion of our fathers; by modifying it, and correcting its abuses, we might have preserved our old customs and government, and not have fallen into the present degradation, without religion, government, or national character-we have acquired all the vices of foreigners, without adopting their virtues, or retaining our own. My friend, what a wound have you re-opened, into what a state has my country fallen? O, Otaiti-alas! alas! alas!" It is needless to say that no Polynesian that ever lived would speak or think in this style it is clearly, neither the composition of the priest, nor even of Moerenhout, but of some Parisian literary artist, who has been employed to get up the book-in fact, almost as much is admitted in a foot note, the only approximation to honesty which we have found in the work. The narration is concluded by the following statement:" It is to him (the priest) that I owe all the traditions relating to cosmogony: it is he who is my authority and guarantee for all the following details, concerning the condition of the people at the time of the discovery, and concerning what they may have been at more remote periods. (Vol. i. p. 394.)

Having stated Moerenhout's pretensions, and in his own language, we have no hesitation in asserting in the most unqualified manner, that his whole work is a tissue of deliberate falsehoods. The truth is, that all that he has told of the manners, customs, and history of Tahiti is stolen from Ellis's Polynesian Researches. Sometimes

entire sentences are translated-and everywhere a little attention enables one to restore the pillaged property to its lawful owner. On comparing the two works together, (Ellis and Moerenhout,) we found, under every head, that this writer had borrowed from the work of the English missionary. On looking over Moerenhout's remarks on the grammatical structure of the Tahitian VOL. XXII-No. 127.

language, we sought as usual in Ellis, but this time our search was fruitless ; it occurred, however, that the information was not new to us, and fortunately, we had a Polynesian grammar published in Tahiti, by the missionaries, as far back as 1823, and here at once we found the source whence the information had been derived. Every remark is taken from the grammar-nay, by a strange negligence, the very same words and phrases are given as illustrations. We confess, any thing like honour on the part of Moerenhout would be an anomaly in his character; if we could not vindicate his honesty in a single instance, we have no desire to rob him of the palm of consistency. We must, however, mention that there are a few Tahitian ballads, relating to mythological subjects, which we have not been able to find in any other work. We will venture, however, to conjecture whence they came. In the first place, M. Moerenhout will say he got them, at the midnight hour, from his old priest; and we, on our parts, have a hypothesis of our own. In these ballads of our Tahitian Chatterton, we observe that the orthography, with insignificant exceptions, is that invented by the English missionaries, and consequently different from what a Frenchman would adopt. One of the Tahitian missionaries, the Rev. Mr. Orsmond, has bestowed much attention in the collecting of the old traditions. Moerenhout mentions, in several parts of his work, Mr. Orsmond as a person with whom he was acquainted. They are, therefore, in our opinion, the unacknowledged treasures of Mr. Orsmond. If it turns out that we are mistaken, we have this consolation, that we have done Moerenhout's character no wrong.

We have a few remarks further to offer concerning this work. Vices, like misfortunes, seldom come single; and to falsehood Moerenhout adds malignity. He has not merely appropriated the labours of another out of vanity and self-love: he has written to malign the very men to whom he is indebted for every thing he knows respecting Polynesia. The revolting calumnies which he has invented against the Protestant missionaries require some notice. The following description of an annual reli

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