them that I should be much better pleased to get on board of the Ka-pan with three masts, as I was to sail to Chusan early next day. Upon this, a sign was made to some other boatmen hard by, and immediately all were in motion. A boat was carried by a number of men across the sands to the water. I jumped upon the back of a stout Chinaman, who scampered like a race-horse across the wet sands, and deposited me in the boat; and they rowed us through the rolling surf in a masterly manner. I reached the suip all safe and sound, although completely drenched with wet.'

proprietor praised very much, and we all drank heartily of it to please him: really such a spring, in a place like this, is invaluable. A telescope was brought to us, which he evidently considered a great curiosity. He placed it upon a large stone table, carefully adjusting it to the desired view, and then asked us to look through it; but we were not accustomed to use the instrument in that way, and took it up in our hands in the usual manner. He seemed surprised that we could see through it in this way. After showing us all the curiosities in the garden, he took us back into the house, where tea was again set before us, with the addition of six or seven kinds of cake, Mr Fortune, as a botanist, most minutely and indefawhich, however good they may be considered by the Chi- tigably examined the natural productions of China, and nese, I must confess I did not like. I have since tasted we have descriptions of the floral character of the parts excellent buns and short cakes in Chusan and Shanghae. he visited in an intelligible and popular style; but we beAfter some further conversation, we withdrew, the man-lieve that our readers will prefer to know more of the darin inviting us to renew our visit as often as we pleased.' people of Chusan, in their relation to the British, than of Our author's good nature was not always a sufficient the groves of Kum-quat and Yang-mai, however beautiful. protection for his purse and person; and the following adventure would certainly prove more exciting than agreeable :

great request, and many of these were most laughable performances. The poor Chinese were never quite at their ease about these certificates, as they were so often hoaxed by the donors, and consequently were continually showing them to other customers and asking what thing that paper talkie; can do, eh?' The answer was probably in this strain-Oh, yes, Fokei, this can do, only a little alteration more better.' Poor Fokei runs and brings a pen, the little alteration is made, and it is needless to add that the thing is ten times more ridiculous than it was before. Almost all the natives who come in contact with the English understand a little of the language; and as they have also a smattering of Portuguese, Malay, and Bengalese, they soon mix them all up together, and draw out of the whole a new tongue, which the most accomplished linguist would have very great difficulty in analysing; and, what is most amusing, they fancy all the time that this is capital English.'

The Chinese empire, according to Mr Fortune, is past its zenith of prosperity, and is now in its decadence. The temples which the idolatrous superstition of the Chinese has caused them to erect are crumbling, and the people are apparently indifferent about them. The succeeding remarks upon the general character of the people and their idolatry are instructive :

presenting, in fact, a series of pictures of China and the Chinese. Every one who saw these things admired them, and, what was rather strange, they seem peculiar to Ning-po, and are not met with at any of the other five ports, not even in Shanghae. As all this beautiful work is expensive, it is, of course, only used in the houses of the wealthy. There are some large banking establishments in Ning-po, having connexion with all the other towns in the north, and it is here, therefore, that the value of money is regulated, the 'stocks' rising and falling exactly as they do in England. There can be little doubt that it is a place of great wealth. There are a large number of retired merchants in the city and suburbs, who have made their fortunes in early life, and who now seek to enjoy themselves amid the luxuries and retirement of Ning-po.

'Many of the temples in this town have been much admired by foreigners, but I must confess that, to me, the best of them had a childish and tinselly appearance, which I could not admire. The one called the Fokein Temple is best and most showy. The Confucian Temple was formerly a large and celebrated place, but it was nearly destroyed during the war, and up to the time when I left China, no attempt had been made to rebuild it, or put it in a state of repair: the Chinese seemed to consider that the touch of the barbarian had polluted the sacred edifice. The Budhists' temples are crowded with painted wooden images of their gods. The three precious Budhas,' the past, present, and future,' are generally enormously large, being often thirty or forty feet in height. To these, and to the numerous small images, the poor deluded natives bow the knee, burn incense, and engage in other exercises of devotion. The traveller meets with these temples, or joss-houses as they are commonly called, in all the streets, at the gates of the city, and even on the ramparts, and cannot but admire the devotional spirit of the inhabitants, although he may wish that it was directed to a higher and purer object. I have often looked on, when these simple people-the women more particularly seemed actually, like Jacob of old, wrestling with God in prayer,' and using various means to ascertain whether the mind of the Deity had softened towards them, and granted their requests. Two small pieces of wood, flat on one side and rounded on the other, are generally used to accomplish this end; these are thrown up in the air, and if they fall on the desired side, it was well; if not, some more incense was burned, and again and again they prostrated themselves before the altar, and seemed engaged in earnest prayer. Many of their religious ceremonies have a great resemblance to those of the Roman Catholic church, and I remember being much struck on a Sunday afternoon, when passing out at one of the city gates, by hearing the sounds of prayer and praise, not unlike those of the Christian churches of other lands. I immediately walked into the place from whence the sounds came, and found, to my disappointment, that it was one of the numerous temples with which the city abounds, and that the sounds of praise which fell upon my ears were only addressed to the gods of the heathen. But many of these temples are in a most ruinous state, and are evidently not so well supported now as they have been at some former time. In fact, the town of Ning-po itself, with all its riches, and all its advantages, has been in a decaying state for years.'

The Chinese, as a nation, are great gamblers-even the poorest of them cannot resist the temptation; and in the main street, after nightfall, there used to be numerous stalls of oranges, sweetmeats, and trifling curiosities, at each of which there were dice of some kind, and a 'wheel of fortune,' surrounded by the Chinese in great numbers, trying their luck with a few copper cash, and evincing, by their looks and language, the most intense interest in the stopping of the wheel, or the throwing of the dice. Besides numerous shops for the sale of clothes and skins, there are a number of excellent silk shops and warehouses a little off the main street, which, like our old-established houses at home, have but little external show to attract notice. Here, too, are large quantities of that beautiful northern embroidery which is so much admired by all who have had an opportunity of seeing it. It is entirely different from that commonly procured at Canton, and much more elaborate and expensive. A considerable demand for articles of dress which would be fashionable in England, has induced the Chinese to get them made, and they are now exposed for sale in all the towns in the north frequented by the English. Ladies' aprons, scarfs, shawls, work-bags, and many other articles made up in the English style, and beautifully embroidered, are the things most in demand. The Chinese estimate their celebrated jade stone very highly, and here there are numerous shops both for cutting it and exposing it for sale, carved into all those curious and fantastic forms for which this people are so well known. The process of cotton-printing, in its most simple and original form, may be seen in most of the streets here, as well as in other towns in China. Rope-making is carried on extensively in the suburbs near the river, and some strong cables and ropes for junks are made from the bracts of the palm, and from the bark of the urticaceous plant, commonly called hemp by the English in the north of China. There are, of course, the usual quantity of curiosity shops, containing bamboo ornaments carved into all possible forms; specimens of ancient porcelain, which are said to preserve flowers and fruit from decay for an unusual time,' lacquered ware, and other ornaments brought by the junks from Japan, many beautifully carved rhinoceros' horns, bronzes, and other articles to which the Chinese attach great importance, purchasing them at exorbitant rates, apparently far beyond their value. But what Printed and published by JAMES HOGG, 122 Nicolson Street, struck me as being most unique, was a peculiar kind of furniture, made and sold in a street, generally called 'Furniture Street' by foreigners who visit Ning-po. There were beds, chairs, tables, washing-stands, cabinets, and presses, all peculiarly Chinese in their form, and beautifully inlaid with different kinds of wood and ivory, representing the people and customs of the country, and

We heartily recommend Mr Fortune's book to all who may feel inclined to become acquainted with the land of Twankay and Bohea, and shall return to it in our next number.

Edinburgh; to whom all communications are to be addressed.
Sold also by J. JOHNSTONE, Edinburgh; J. M'LEOD, Glasgow; W.
CURRY, jun. & Co., Dublin; R. GROOMBRIDGE & SONS, London;
W. M'COMB, Belfast; G. & R. KING, Aberdeen; R. WALKER,
Dundee; G. PHILIP and J. SHEPHERD, Liverpool: FINLAY &
CHARLTON, Newcastle; WRIGHTSON & WEBB, Birmingham; A.
HEYWOOD and J. AINSWORTH, Manchester; G. CULLINGWORTH,
Leeds; and all Booksellers. C. MACKENZIE & Co., Halifax,
Nova Scotia.

of his moustache, as well as his dress, are all indicative of his habits. He appears as if got up by the tailors-a walking advertisement; being the only approach to realisation of the pictorial display of Paris fashions for the month one is privileged to behold. He is a disciple of the Brum

MOST of our fair readers know what is comprehended under the present title, though perhaps, notwithstanding a certain mental picture being conjured up on the eye catching the words, they would find some difficulty in giv-mel and Nash school. Every tie is scrupulously correct; ing any exact definition of their ubiquitous favourites. Ten chances to one, did you inquire at a young lady, 'What like is he?' the answer would be, 'Oh, get along with you; how should I know?' Before commencing the present sketch, we made an attempt at such an inquiry, but it proved a dead failure. The ladies suspected our felonious intention, and refused any enlightenment respecting their favourite. We find, therefore, that we stand on dangerous ground, liable to forfeit the good will of our fair patronesses; should such be the result, our reflection must be that of many great men, that genuine unselfish philanthropy has met an unmerited slight, for with purely philanthropic feelings do we enter on our task.

After searching unsuccessfully through Buffon and Rennie, under Ephemera, we have arrived at the conclusion that our natural historians have made a great omission in leaving out the ladies'-man. He certainly cannot be said to belong to the highest order of creation; his tastes, dispositions, and pursuits being essentially of a different nature. He seems a sort of hybrid appendage to the last of nature's works'-something betwixt a page and a duennapartaking of the characteristics of each, yet clearly falling under neither. We might attempt to analyse the idiosyncracy of the ladies'-man, from several specimens we have had the occasional privilege of seeing, but in doing so we feel placed in a critical position, arising from the difficulties of the duty, and the offence probably occurring from our interference with matters which we have been already informed we have nothing at all to do with-that this subject is, in fact, as much out of our sphere as any interference with a lady's taste in her choice of a shawl, bonnet, or cap would be. Our intentions must form our

excuse.

There are certain situations in which the ladies'-man may be seen to the greatest advantage-certain places in which he comes out in full feather. On a sunshiny afternoon, from one till four o'clock, he may be detected perambulating some promenade, or leisurely strolling in the park. You need not look for him in any lonely or bypath; keep always the most crowded and frequented spot; particularly in the wake or advance of a bevy of ladies, you may detect him-as infallibly as the titling hovers nigh the cuckoo, is he there. Once scen he is again unmistakeable. There is a certain effeminacy in his aspect: the curl of his hair, the position of his whisker, and twist

its

every hair properly adjusted; the gloves without a wrinkle; the coat without a flaw; the vest faultless; the boots glossy as ebony, unsullied in their brilliancy by a single spot of mud. We speak of course here of the first class of ladies'men. There are various grades of them. Every vice has imitators, far more so than every virtue. Yet though he personifies the dandy to this extent, he lacks the dandy's manliness. There is not the nobility of manhood stamped upon his countenance. There is a soft spongy look about him, a certain rose water' air, which the genuine dandy hath not. Let us watch him a little. Peacock-like he struts along, surveying each fair one through his glass, and nodding to each passing acquaintance. A friend taps him on the shoulder, a very double of himself: turning lethargically round he drawls- Aw, Ned, how's your sa-lu-brity this mawning?'

Fresh, thawnk you. Eh! do you know that fair gaal coming along on yon old fellow's awm? I passed her some time ago. She smiled upon me, posi-tive-ly. I wonder who she is.'

'Don't know, Ned.'

'By-the-by, where were you last night? I spent a pleasant evening at the Grays'. Some young ladies-four of them-most de-light-ful. Not another soul but myself present-chaaming gaals. You must visit with us, Augustus.'

Ha! see, there's two lovely creatures. Don't know them though. Let's get in front, Ned.'

So the two, arm in arm, pass the ladies, and continue their strut a little in advance, inspired with the hope of being vastly admired-expecting to arouse a world of curiosity on their behalf.

Follow we the ladies'-man into the drawing-room, there we find him in his natural element. In the midst of a cluster of nymphs, to whom he is chattering and showing his teeth, or hanging over the chair of some fair girl, delighting himself and her with softly whispered nothings, or mayhap gallantly engaged in assisting another to unravel a skein of silk, unfastening a troublesome knot, or chivalrously fetching a footstool to a third. His accomplishments in this sphere are comprehensive; he can make himself generally useful in his devotion to the service of his patronesses. He can sing a few German or Italian airs (he hates English or Scotch melodies-they are low, vulgar), can play on the piano, sketch a little, spatter

paper with colour and call it drawing, can dance agree therefore we honestly acquit him of all intention of cruelty abiy, understands something about that mysterious needle- justly attributable to the former class. The ladies'-man work we find young ladies always performing and never generally has pretensions to acquaintance with the muse, finishing; speaks occasionally of silks, brocades, and lace; which he invokes in albums. If the fickle goddess refuses can chatter incessantly and simper interminably. The his summons, however, as she not unfrequently does, ladies'-man has wit enough not to limit his attentions to L. E. L., Shenstone, or some other neatly sentimental lyrist, any particular unit of the sex more than others. He has supplies the defect. Describing him negatively, like some perhaps learned the danger of this by experience, having high authorities, we might say he is not a political man, been already once or twice requested by some anxious nor a scientific man, nor a philanthropic man, nor a pa Argus of a mamma 'to state his intentions,' but having triotic man, nor a man of any party save a ladies' party. none of course, beyond immediate amusement, he could He knows nothing of Locke, Brown, or Dugald Stewart, condescend on nothing satisfactory, and was forbid the and far less of Adam Smith or M Culloch. Books he conhouse' accordingly. In his more juvenile days, the ladies'-ceives a bore, excepting the Book of Fashions' and man is the hopeful object of many a dowager's manoeuvre- Punch,' which he reads per example, and rarely coming. He is generally a manageable youth, and of desir-prehends further than that it is veway clevaw.' He able qualities. Young ladies, too, consider him quite a knows a little of the philosophy of life, but nothing of nice young man,' and are very languishing, talkative, or moral philosophy, and that life is all bounded by the park winning in his presence, as occasion may suit or seem to and drawing-room. He knows that society judges of a require. As he gets older, however, he sinks to his own man by his coat-that broadcloth and lavender gloves are position-still a loveable creature, but not worth wasting the criterion of a man's worth and the highway to golden time upon. It is found that all gentle sighs, kindling | opinion, while the threadbare sleeve and napless hat mark glances, trembling of long silken lashes, slight pressures the worthless and ignorant. To alter slightly the wellof little hands, and significant looks and smiles, have been known lines, he believes thrown away upon him-so much capital expended, and no return. He ceases to be a nice young man' save with very fresh and sanguine girls, and settles down to an and he acts out his philosophy as he best can. agreeable attentive creature.' In this condition he gene- ly, it may be averred, he bears the same relationship to rally remains till near forty, after which, with few excep- mankind that amphibious animals do to land creatures, tions, he becomes an old boy,' a fuzzy old creature,' a He is a sort of nondescript; part of his notions being made horrid old bore,' in fact, anything but pleasant and agree-up of new patterns and fancy bazaars, part of them of able; a circumstance clearly proving that the cause which gossip and small-talk and a slight affectation of wit. Such entitles him to a place in young ladies' esteem does not and similar are the mental endowments of the ladies'-man. increase with his age-derives no additional value from In almost every other respect there is a happy vacancy antiquity. At this stage he usually grows out of his young of sense.' The probability is, he does not find much neceslady acquaintances, and falls into a circle of widows and sity for such a quality, and concurs practically in the proelderly maidens, where he flourishes in renewed vigour. verb that a little knowledge is a dangerous thing, by In some cases within the sphere of our own recollection, avoiding all inconvenient contact with it. we have seen an attempt made to maintain a perpetual youthdom till near sixty, in the persons of two or three deluded elderly gents,' who dressed in a juvenile manner, attended small parties, and romped with very, very young ladies. Such grey-haired follies, however, we feel thankful,

are rare.

6

'Tis clothes that make the man,
The want of them the fellow;'

General

The ladies'-man has his own peculiar sphere, his own element, out of which he cannot exist; that element is the town. The quiet pleasures of a rural life are no pleasures to him. He cannot conceive how people should prefer green fields and shady paths to the thronged busy streets -how it is possible the hill-side and valley can be more beautiful than the gorgeous shops, or the purple heather pleasanter to tread upon than the drawing-room carpet. These things are impossible to be supposed! Once, in the vicinity of Glen Lui Beg, we encountered one of the species. He had read Christopher North's Recreations; how this happened we cannot say, nevertheless he had read them, and his soul had become inspired with thoughts of sublime scenery, thunder-storms, beetling mountains, dashing cata

The ladies'-man is seldom married. When a man passes a certain age, say thirty, in celibacy, his chances of matrimony, arising from his own growing indifference to it, lessen daily. When he reaches forty we regard him as hopeless. Unless matrimony be perpetrated when the heart beats high with hope, when love has no cold calculating philosophy in it, when the feelings gush forth from a sanguine unobstructed spring-unless then, its charms cease, its rosy hue is gone, and it becomes a pounds-racts, soaring eagles, and all the other concomitants, but shillings-and-pence matter. Instances are on record, notwithstanding of this general rule, in which ladies'-men have been inveigled, either through the superior tactics of some designing fair one, or because, according to a certain philosophy, his time was come.' But, in almost all such cases, he gets the crooked stick,' to which there is no doubt of his being above all men well entitled.

We have hitherto spoken of the ladies'-man externally. Let us take a peep into his mental qualifications. These are seldom of a very high order, if ever above par. They are limited to what is strictly useful in his own sphere, but quite unavailable out of it. He has a tolerable imitative capacity, for instance, so far as dress is concerned; the cut of a new coat, the turn of a boot, the pattern of a vest, or fashion of hair, he can perfectly comprehend. He can dance the last Polka or Strauss' last waltz, can criticise music, sing a little, play a little, has a smattering of French, and a slight sprinkling of Italian. He considers he knows a pretty girl when he sees one, flatters himself that he can discern a good figure from a bad one. Largely he talks of blondes and brunettes, of deep blue eyes, of sparkling black ones, swan-like throats, fine busts, Grecian outline, tournure, &c., when in company with brethren of similar tastes, but, alas! so far as heart is concerned, every girl is to him alike. He is not a lady-killer but a lady-server,

especially of glorious yellow fins he meant to kill in a
stream adjoining. From the east he had come armed with
a fishing-rod, and dressed out according to the most ap-
proved scale of angling costume, as seen in prints in tailors'
windows. We met him bewildered in a moor, without the
faintest notion of his whereabouts, fagging wearily along,
with his garments moss-stained and torn, and his phiz
lugubrious in the extreme. A long rod was dangling over !
his shoulder, and the flies sticking in his skirts for lack
of better employment. He gaped with stupified surprise
at meeting us, and we no less so at seeing him; we should
as soon have expected to encounter the great sea-snake,'
A few words explained to us how he had been duped, im-
posed upon, and deceived; how the Highlands was the most
miserable place in the world, not fit for a human being to
exist in. Instead of the glorious sights he had been led
to expect, he had seen nothing but gloom, rain, and quag-
mire. His only desire was, how could he possibly get
home now? We acted the good Samaritan for once, saw
him that night safely housed in the little inn at Barrthe-
yett, and next morning packed him off in a peat cart.
Still he remembers our service with gratitude, and thanks
us for his miraculous escape from the Highlands. We re-
peat it, the ladies'-man was made for the town and the
town for him. Give him plenty of dress, plenty of cigars,

no annoyance requiring thought or reflection, food for his vanity, and admirers to keep it alive; and, above all, plenty of female friends, and then he is at home-nowhere else.

We have sketched the ladies'-man as luxuriating in the higher circles of society, but the middle ranks are not destitute of him. With some slight variations, he may be fund in almost any class, always distinguished by one or two of the main peculiarities we have attributed to him. It has been always a curious question for metaphysicians to solve, that of the principle of feminine attachments. At best the female heart is a riddle, but far more so in the vagaries it exhibits in cherishing and doating upon things in themselves most unloveable. Pugs, monkeys, cats, dwarf pages, and tuneless birds, without regard to age or ugliness, have always been staple commodities on which affection might be lavished. Is it that the feminine heart is made to love; that there is a void in it which must be filled up, and which any object can supply; or is it that woman's humanity prompts her to tenderness towards those parts of the animal creation which man, the selfish monster, would not stoop to bestow a single thought upon? Upon these grounds alone can we account for the leaning towards the subject of our sketch-of whom any specimens we ever saw were the most thoroughly contemptible of all the race of mankind. Some might suggest his usefulness; that the fair sex find him valuable in those little services which he is ever on the alert to render, as a reason of his popularity. We doubt this. A man's popularity is a thing quite distinct from his usefulness, often not at all related to it. We think we must be still right in our position regarding the cause-pity or necessity. Yet the last it can hardly be, for a monkey would equally well answer the end, that of filling up temporarily a void in afection. Now, we should wish to say a word or two in the ears of young ladies on this point ere closing. The lalies'-man owes his existence as such to you. In maintaining him in such a state you do yourselves a moral wrong-injuring your own position in society. See how! John Somers, a thriving young merchant, is introduced to Miss Julia Likely, a very engaging, affable, and worthy young lady. He feels a desire for further acquaintance, calls, finds her at home with her sisters, but Augustus, the dangler, is there, entertaining her and the company with his unmeaning nonsense, and engaging the whole attention of the party to himself. John calls again, the same scene is enacted; and again, but still finds Augustus at his post: at last leaves off. A friend inquires, John, why, you never visit Miss Julia now?'- Oh, bother Miss Julia!' replies John; she's a very pleasant girl, no dubt, but that booby Augustus Herbertym is perpetually lounging about the house. One can't tell what to think of the lady; for my part, I'd as soon not have a wife who delighted in such silly company.' Julia wonders why John never calls now. He was a very pleasant sensible young man. She is sorry he is gone, but can see no reason for his abrupt cessation of visiting. Could he find any fault with her? she thinks not. Look, young lady, at that simpering vacant countenance, and at that neatly adjusted and polished exterior, beneath which one great or generous thought never lurked, as he stands at your side Smoothing his glove and affecting airs sufficient to disgust all his sex. Look there, we say, and you will find an answer to your thoughts; you will see how honesty has been vanquished by vanity-Intentions sacred and honourable ronted off the field by the sight of No Intentions-and remember it is all your own fault. Look now reflectively. Do not injure your own position in society, your own chances of marriage, your own happiness. Do not increase your reputation as a flirt or coquette, and advance the probability of an ultimate garret, by maintaining such a creature dallying around you. Act wisely and prudently, then, for your own sakes as well as for the sake of the subject of our sketch. You will not only benefit your selves, but commit an act of genuine philanthropy by setting your faces steadfastly against such an anomalous being as THE LADIES'-MAN.

THE FIRST MISSIONARIES TO

LARRADOR.

IN connexion with the great events, which for good or evil have pointed the world's history, there has ever existed an under current of persevering effort to which mankind is perhaps more indebted for progress and prosperity than to the deeds loud trumpeted by fame. Among these are the labours of the Moravians to introduce Christianity to the natives of Labrador, a cheerless and barren country to the north of Nova Scotia, and not far distant from Greenland; it is, however, much more inhospitable than the latter as regards temperature, nature of soil, and the tribes by which it is inhabited. Frequently, during the winter, the thermometer falls to thirty degrees below zero; alcohol solidifies; and ice twelve feet in thickness is formed on the surface of the water, chaining up the waves of the ocean for more than seven months. Although the missionaries warm their habitations by means of large iron stoves and cannon-balls heated red hot, yet they often find, on rising in the morning, the covering of their beds frozen. Summer arrives with an abruptness unknown in milder climates, and is excessively hot, but of short duration. The inhabitants live exclusively by hunting and fishing, without ever attempting to cultivate the earth; and it is only with the greatest trouble that the European settlers raise a few vegetables in their miserable gardens; potatoes, saved from frost only by covering them over every night, seldom grow larger than nuts. Under such conditions, it would seem difficult to give any other than an ironical explanation of the singular name of Labrador, or Land of Labour, the same given to the fertile plain of Naples. The few pleasures of this short summer are completely destroyed by the millions of musquitoes, of which, as well as of many annoyances of a similar character, we know but little in our happy climate, although those who have visited southern latitudes may form some idea of them.

God, in his wisdom, has implanted in the heart of man an invincible attachment to the country of his birth. At no price would the Esquimaux leave his icy plains for our fertile regions; the descriptions given to him of the latter never inspire him with the least regret. True it is that, to enable him to endure the rude climate, he has received a constitution very different from ours. In the midst of winter, we find him half naked in his snow house, warmed only by a lamp. The enormous quantity of fat which this people eat, doubtless renders them less sensible of cold. Their stature is exceedingly short, they have no beard, and their hair, black and oily as all the rest of their person, is cut short in front, and hangs a foot in length straight down their backs. They live entirely independent, without any form of government whatever. Careless and passionate, in common with all savages, they sell everything to obtain the object of their desires, and live only for the present moment. Their clothing is made of the skins of birds, fishes, and rein-deer, cut with stone knives, sewed together with needles made of bone, and thread drawn from the fibres of the whale. The women are little better than slaves, and compelled to perform the most laborious portion of the work. When old, they are regarded as sorceresses, and if suspected of malevolent enchantments, are torn to pieces without mercy and thrown into the sea.

The filthy habits of the natives of Labrador are almost incredible, as proved by a single instance taken from among those which will best bear mention. The utensils are never cleaned except by the tongues of their dogs; the hungry animals lick off every particle of food. Their garments, never washed, swarm with disgusting insects. The moral degradation of these people, low as it is, is, however, above many other tribes whom Europeans have visited and too often inoculated with their vices. In spite of all efforts to the contrary, the Esquimaux of Labrador generally have refrained from excessive use of ardent spirits, which they wisely name' water of folly.'

Such is the country, and such the people, among whom a few Moravian brethren, abandoning all the pleasures of