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merly, in a battle with a neighbouring nation, saved his friend's life at the hazard of his own. The new negro, at the same time, threw himself at the planter's feet with tears, beseeching him, in the most moving manner, to spare his friend, or at leaft to suffer him to undergo che punishment in his room ; protefie ing, he would sooner undergo ten thousand deaths, than list bis hand against him.
But the wretch looking on this as an affront to the absolite power he pretended over him, ordered Arthur to be immediately tied to a tree, and his friend to give him the lashes; tale ling him too, that for every lath not well laid on, he should hiafell receive a score.
. The new negro, amazed at a barbarity so unbecoming a baman creature, with a generous disdain refused to obey him, at the same time upbraiding him with his cruelty ; upon which, te planter turning all his rage on him, ordered him to be immedi
ately stripped, and commanded Arthur (to whom he promised · forgiveness) to give his countryman the lanes himself had been destined to receive.
This proposal too was received with scorn, cach protefing be would rather suffer the most dreadful torture, than injere his friend. This generous confiat, which must have saifed the strongest feelings, in a breast susceptible of pity, did but the more enflame the monster, who now determined they thoald both be made examples of; and, to satiate his revenge, was it. folved to whip them himself.—He was just preparing to begin with Arthur, when the new negro drew a knife from his pocket, Itabbed the planter to the heart, and at the same time ftruck it to his own, rejoicing, with his last breath, that he had revenged his friend, and rid the world of such a monster.
What a glaring instance is here of barbarity in one bred among Christians; and of a noble, disinterested friendship, and true greatness of soul, in these two unhappy wretches! Had they been blessed with a proper education, and with the lights of Christianity, such geniules, in all probability, would have cx. erted themselves in a glorious manner for the service of thar country, or all mankind.
Then what manner of excuse can be made for treating this part of our fpecies with such contempt and partiality? What nan European would be called a glorious ffruggle for liberry, we call in them rebellion, treachery, & c. Perseverance ve terın obftinacy, and melancholy (the constant attendant of 112. very in a thinking foul) sulkiness, and a savage g!ocmires; nay, we put them to little on the footing of common humanity,
that there is only an insignificant fine set on a white man that ** morders any of them.
In a breast sensible of the least couches of humanity, compara **** fion must arise to see our fellow-creatures (for they are not the
less fo for being of a different climate and complexion) reduced 3 to the most abject state in the whole creation ; and how base is
it to add to the weight of their misery, by the barbarous usage they generally meet with ! To take those unhappy people, with.
out the least provocation, from their own country, from every 2:28 thing that is dear to them, a tender, loving wife and children,
perhaps, and plunge them into irredeemable slavery, is shocking to think of! Nay, the misfortune does not end here, for their
pofterity in general are to undergo the same fate ; and life, * which heaven has designed the first and greatest blessing, is to 2,them a continued scene of misery. Hope, the greatest com:: forter of mankind, is for ever excluded ; nor have their masters 344 any more regard to their immortal part, never instructing them
in the lights of Christianity, themselves forgetting the chief
precept of it in their usage of them, viz. Doing as they would be - done by.
3 The only argument that can be urged in defence of this barCarbarous trade, is, that the slaves they purchase are such before to hand, and that it is but an exchange of savage for Christian
masters ; nay, that it is saving the lives of thousands of them, who would otherwise be sacrificed to their idols : but, in reality, it is the Europeans who are the idols, to whose cruelty and ava.
rice these poor creatures are sacrificed : it is they who are the e authors of all the wars, blood-thed, treachery, &c. we so much berent condemn in them. It is to get them Naves they do this, and
practise crimes unknown among them before the arrival of the
Nature is not so partial as to confine her favours to any nation or climate : virtues, as well as vices, are the produce of all countries ; and a nobleness of soul among those savages, as we call them, often breaks forth in spite of that cloud of ignorance that hangs over them ; nor, indeed, is it impossible, when one reflects on the surprizing revolutions arts and sciences have made, but that some centuries hence they may be transferred to Africa or America, and the natives of these countries have it in their 3 C 2
power to revenge the injuries done to their forefathers on the Europeans, who may, at that time, make as despicable a figure in the world as the natives of those places now do.
[To be continued occafionally.]
A rimarkable Instance of the Success of the Endeavours of MifJieurs Braidwood, of Edinburgh, ro impart Speecb andibe Keeu. ledge of Language to the naturally deaf, and consequently desb. Written by the Parent of the Child who is tbe Subjed of it. THOSE who know experimentally the tender concern of
1 an only parent for an only son, even under the happiei circumstances of natural advantage, may imagine with what ari. dity the information of this academy [Messrs. Braidwoods'] wa first feceived. Although the authority was unquestionable, I, like many others, I acknowledge, had doubts of the practicability of the business to any very great degree. I thought it my duty, however, to send my son across the Atlantic, upon Mr. Braid. wood's agreeing to undertake the tuition of him, who accordingly received him in February, 1780. He was then eight years old : although sprightiy, sensible, and quick of apprebengon, yet, having been either born deaf, or having lost his hearing by sickness in earliest infancy, he could not at that time produce or distinguish vocal sounds, or articulate at all ; neither had be any idea of the meaning of words, either when spoken, in writing, or in print; and, for want of hearing, would doubtless have remained as speechless as he was born. His deafness was forft (accidentally) discovered at the age of fix months, when my folicitude commenced ; for I was then well apprized that the natural consequence must be want of speech, or language, unless a 1medy for his deafness could be effectea. I foon received the pleasing intelligence that he was beginning to articulate, and foon after, that he could plainly express (upon feeing the form in characters) any word in the English language.
My firit vifit to him was in May, 1781. It exceeds the power of words to convey any idea of the sensations experienced at this interview. The child, ambitious to manifeft his acquistioa, eagerly advanced, and addressed me with a diftinct salutation of speech. He also made several enquiries in short sentences.-I then delivered him a letter from his fifter, (couched in the fimplet terms,) which he read so as to be underfood. He accompaniel
's: many of the words, as he pronounced them, with proper ges. Leitures, fignificative of their meaning, such as in the sentence, in " Write a letter by papa :" on uttering the first word, he de
scribed the action of writing by the motion of his right hand ; the second, by tapping the letter he held ; the third, by point. ing to me. He could at that time repeat the Lord's Prayer very properly, and some other forms ; one of which in particular (which 'I had never heard before) I chen took down in writing from his repetition; a convincing proof of his speaking intel. ligibly.--I found he could in that short time read distinctly, in a now manner, any English book, although it cannot be supposed he had as yet learned the meaning of many words: he, how
ever, made a daily progress in that knowledge.--As to writing, 22 there can be no reason why deaf persons may not, by imitation,
learn that art as well as any other persons ; accordingly, I was pot at all surprized that he could write very plainly : this, indeed, he did with uncommon readiness and dexterity, and seemned not a little proud of all his new attainments. I had also the fac tisfaction to see such specimens, at that time, in the proficiency of others who had been longer at this academy, ás left no doubt in my mind of his acquiring, in due season, a perfect acquaintance with language, both oral and written ; and that he would
be capable of any art or science whatever, except masic and ora, S tory.- -Perfectly satisfied with his situation, in a conscientious
and respectable family, I left him to pursue his st dies with a dem gree of hope and joy, which, on this score, I had never expected to have known.-On my next visit, in September, 1782, his im. provements were very perceptible in speech, the construction of language, and in writing. He had made a good beginning in arithmetic, and furprizing progress in the arts of drawing and painting -I found him capable of not only comparing ideas, and drawing inferences, but expressing his sentiments with judge, mens.-On my defiring him to attempt fomething he thought himself unequal to, I let him the example by doing it myself: úpon which he shook his head, and, with a sinile, replied, (dis. tinctly, viva voce, “ You are a man, Sir ; I am a boy." -Ob. ferying that he was inclined, in company, to converse with one of his school-fellows by the tacit finger-langua e, I asked him why he did not speak to him with his mouth? To this his an, swer was as pertinent as it was concise, “ He is deaf."-Many other instances I could mention of the expressions of the mind, as proper as could be made by any boy of his age, who had not che disadvantage of deafness.
An Account of the late EARTHQUAKES in CALABRIA,
SICILY, &c. Communicated to the ROYAL SOCIETY by Sir WILLIAM HAMILTON.
[Continued from page 366.] N the 17th of May I left Meslina, where I had been kindly
and hospitably treated, and proceeded in my speronara along the Sicilian coast to the point of the entrance of the Faro, where I went alhore, and found a priest who had been there the night between the 5th and 6th cf February, when the great wave passed over that point, carried off boats, and above twentyfour unhappy people, tearing up trees, and leaving some huodred weight of fish it had brought with it on the dry land. The priest told me he had been himself covered with the wave, and with difficulty saved his life. He at first said the water was hot ; but as I was curious to come at the truth of this fact, which would have concluded much, I asked him if he was very sure of it ; and being pressed, it came to no more than the water having been as warm as it usually is in summer. He said the wave role to a great height, and came on with noise, and such rapidity, that it was impossible to escape it. The tower on the point was half destroyed, and a poor priest that was in it loft his life.
From hence I went over to Scilla. Having met with my friend the Padre Minasi, a Dominican friar, a worthy man, add an able naturalist, who is a native of Scilla, and is actually employed by the academy of Naples to give a description of the phænomena that have attended the earthquake in these parts, with bis affi. tance on the spot, I perfectly understood the nature of the formidable wave that was said to have been boiling hot, and had certainly proved fatal to the baron of that country, the prince of Scilla, who was swept off the shore into the sea by this ware, with two thousand four hundred and seventy-three of his unfor. tunate subjects. The following is the fact : The prince of Scilla having remarked, that during the first horrid shock, (which happened about noon the 5th of February,) part of a rock near Scilla had been detached into the sea ; and fearing that the rock of Scilla, on which his castle and town are situated, might also be detached, thought it safer to prepare boats, and retire to a little port or beach surrounded by rocks at the foot of the rock. The second shock of the earthquake, after midnight, detached a whole mountain, (much higher than that of Scilla, and partly calcareous, and partly cretaceous,) fituated between the Torre del Cavallo and the rock of Scilla. This having fallen with violence into the sea, (at that time perfectly calm,)