{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_13011/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_13011","id":"gutenberg_13011","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/13011","summary":null,"tags":["Asia -- Description and travel","Australia -- Description and travel","Category: Children & Young Adult Reading","Category: History - Religious","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Category: Travel Writing"],"text":"Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this\n      file which includes the original illustrations.\n      See 13011-h.htm or 13011-h.zip:\n      (https://www.gutenberg.org/1/3/0/1/13011/13011-h/13011-h.htm)\n      or\n      (https://www.gutenberg.org/1/3/0/1/13011/13011-h.zip)\n\n\n\n\n\nFAR OFF\n\nor, Asia and Australia Described, with Anecdotes and Illustrations\n\nBY THE AUTHOR OF \"THE PEEP OF DAY,\" ETC. ETC. ETC.\n\nNEW YORK\n\n1852\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: \"O ma'am that's sweet! Jesus Christ is OUR Redeemer.\"]\n\n\n\n[Illustration: FAR OFF]\n\n\n\n\n\nIn the Frontispiece may be seen an English lady, who went to live upon\nMount Sion to teach little Jewesses and little Mahomedans to know the\nSaviour. That lady has led three of her young scholars to a plain just\nbeyond the gates of Jerusalem; and while two of them are playing\ntogether, she is listening to little Esther, a Jewess of eight years old.\nThe child is fond of sitting by her friend, and of hearing about the Son\nof David. She has just been singing,\n\n    \"Glory, honor, praise, and power,\n    Be unto the Lamb forever,\n    Jesus Christ is our Redeemer,\n    Hallelujah, praise the Lord;\"\n\nand now she is saying, \"O, ma'am, that's sweet! Jesus Christ is _our_\nRedeemer, _our_ Redeemer: no _man_ can redeem his brother, no\n_money_,--nothing--but only the precious blood of Christ.\"\n\n\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE.\n\n\nThis little work pleads for the notice of parents and teachers on the\nsame grounds as its predecessor, \"Near Home.\"\n\nIts plea is not completeness, nor comprehensiveness, nor depth of\nresearch, nor splendor of description; but the very reverse,--its simple,\nsuperficial, desultory character, as better adapted to the volatile\nbeings for whom it is designed.\n\nToo long have their immortal minds been captivated by the adventures and\nachievements of knights and princesses, of fairies and magicians; it is\ntime to excite their interest in real persons, and real events. In\nchildhood that taste is formed which leads the youth to delight in\nnovels, and romances; a taste which has become so general, that every\ntown has its circulating library, and every shelf in that library is\nfilled with works of fiction.\n\nWhile these fascinating inventions are in course of perusal, many a Bible\nis unopened, or if opened, hastily skimmed; many a seat in church is\nunoccupied, or if occupied, the service, and the sermon disregarded--so\nintense is the sympathy of the novel reader with his hero, or his\nheroine.\n\nAnd what is the effect of the perusal? Many a young mind, inflated with a\ndesire for admiration and adventure, grows tired of home, impatient of\nrestraint, indifferent to simple pleasures, and averse to sacred\ninstructions. How important, therefore, early to endeavor to prevent a\ntaste for FICTION, by cherishing a taste for FACTS.\n\nBut this is not the only aim of the present work; it seeks also to excite\nan interest in _those_ facts which ought _most_ to interest immortal\nbeings--facts relative to souls, and their eternal happiness--to God, and\nhis infinite glory.\n\nThese are the facts which engage the attention of the inhabitants of\nheaven. We know not whether the births of princes, and the coronations of\nmonarchs are noticed by the angelic hosts; but we do know that the\nrepentance of a sinner, be he Hindoo or Hottentot, is celebrated by their\nmelodious voices in rapturous symphonies.\n\nTherefore \"Far Off\" desire to interest its little readers in the labors\nof missionaries,--men despised and maligned by the world, but honored and\nbeloved by the SAVIOUR of the world. An account of the scenery and\nnatives of various countries, is calculated to prepare the young mind for\nreading with intelligence those little Missionary Magazines, which appear\nevery month, written in so attractive a style, and adorned with such\nbeautiful illustrations. Parents have no longer reason to complain of the\ndifficulty of finding sacred entertainment for their children on Sunday,\nfor these pleasing messengers,--if carefully dealt out,--one or two on\neach Sabbath, would afford a never failing supply.\n\nTo form great and good characters, the mind must be trained to delight in\nTRUTH,--not in comic rhymes, in sentimental tales, and skeptical poetry.\nThe truth revealed in God's Holy Word, should constitute the firm basis\nof education; and the works of Creation and Providence the superstructure\nwhile the Divine blessing can alone rear and cement the edifice.\n\nParents, train up your children to serve God, and to enjoy his presence\nforever; and if there be amongst them--an EXTRAORDINARY child, train him\nup with extraordinary care, lest instead of doing extraordinary _good_ he\nshould do extraordinary _evil_, and be plunged into extraordinary misery.\n\nTrain up--the child of imagination--not to dazzle, like Byron, but to\nenlighten, like Cowper: the child of wit--not to create profane mirth,\nlike Voltaire, but to promote holy joy, like Bunyan: the child of\nreflection--not to weave dangerous sophistries, like Hume, but to wield\npowerful arguments, like Chalmers: the child of sagacity--not to gain\nadvantages for himself, like Cromwell, but for his country, like\nWashington: the child of eloquence--not to astonish the multitude, like\nSheridan, but to plead for the miserable, like Wilberforce: the child of\nardor--not to be the herald of delusions, like Swedenbourg, but to be the\nchampion of truth, like Luther: the child of enterprise--not to devastate\na Continent, like the conquering Napoleon, but to scatter blessings over\nan Ocean, like the missionary Williams:--and, if the child be a\nprince,--train him up--not to reign in pomp and pride like the fourteenth\nLouis, but to rule in the fear of God, like our own great ALFRED.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n\nASIA\n\nTHE HOLY LAND\n    Bethlehem\n    Jerusalem\n    The Dead Sea\n    Samaria\n    Galilee\n\nSYRIA\n    Damascus\n\nARABIA\n\nTURKEY IN ASIA\n    Armenia\n    Kurdistan\n    Mesopotamia\n\nPERSIA\n    Teheran\n\nCHINA\n\nCOCHIN CHINA\n    Tonquin\n    Cambodia\n\nHINDOSTAN\n    The Ganges\n    The Thugs\n    The Hindoo Women\n    The English in India\n\nCIRCASSIA\n\nGEORGIA\n    Tiflis\n\nTARTARY\n    Astracan\n    Bokhara\n    The Toorkman Tartars\n\nCHINESE TARTARY\n\nAFFGHANISTAN\n\nBELOOCHISTAN\n\nBURMAH\n    The Karens\n    Ava\n    Maulmain\n    The Missionary's babe\n\nSIAM\n    Bankok\n\nMALACCA\n    Singapore\n    The Christian school-girls\n\nSIBERIA\n    The Samoyedes\n    The Banished Russians\n    The Ural Mountains\n\nKAMKATKA\n\nTHIBET\n    Lassa\n\nCEYLON\n    Kandy\n    Colombo\n\nBORNEO\n    Bruni\n    The Dyaks\n\nJAPAN\n\nAUSTRALIA\n    The Colonists or Settlers\n    Botany Bay\n    Sydney\n    Adelaide\n\nVAN DIEMAN'S LAND\n    The Young Savages\n    Little Mickey\n\n\n\n\nFAR OFF.\n\n\nASIA.\n\n\n    Of the four quarters of the world--Asia is the most glorious.\n    There the first man lived.\n    There the Son of God lived.\n    There the apostles lived.\n    There the Bible was written.\n    Yet now there are very few Christians in Asia:\n  though there are more people there than in any other quarter\n  of the globe.\n\n\n\n\nTHE HOLY LAND.\n\n\nOf all the countries in the world which would you rather see?\n\nWould it not be the land where Jesus lived?\n\nHe was the Son of God: He loved us and died for us.\n\nWhat is the land called where He lived? Canaan was once its name: but now\nPalestine, or the Holy Land.\n\nWho lives there now?\n\nAlas! alas! The Jews who once lived there are cast out of it. There are\nsome Jews there; but the Turks are the lords over the land. You know the\nTurks believe in Mahomet.\n\nWhat place in the Holy Land do you wish most to visit?\n\nSome children will reply, Bethlehem, because Jesus was born there;\nanother will answer, Nazareth, because Jesus was brought up there; and\nanother will say, \"Jerusalem,\" because He died there.\n\nI will take you first to\n\n\nBETHLEHEM.\n\nA good minister visited this place, accompanied by a train of servants,\nand camels, and asses.\n\nIt is not easy to travel in Palestine, for wheels are never seen there,\nbecause the paths are too steep, and rough, and narrow for carriages.\n\nBethlehem is on a steep hill, and a white road of chalk leads up to the\ngate. The traveller found the streets narrow, dark, and dirty. He lodged\nin a convent, kept by Spanish monks. He was shown into a large room with\ncarpets and cushions on the floor. There he was to sleep. He was led up\nto the roof of the house to see the prospect. He looked, and beheld the\nfields below where the shepherds once watched their flocks by night: and\nfar off he saw the rocky mountains where David once hid himself from\nSaul.\n\nBut the monks soon showed him a more curious sight. They took him into\ntheir church, and then down some narrow stone steps into a round room\nbeneath. \"Here,\" said they, \"Jesus was born.\" The floor was of white\nmarble, and silver lamps were burning in it. In one corner, close to the\nwall, was a marble trough, lined with blue satin. \"There,\" said the\nmonks, \"is the manger where Jesus was laid.\" \"Ah!\" thought the traveller,\n\"it was not in such a manger that my Saviour rested his infant head; but\nin a far meaner place.\"\n\nThese monks have an image of a baby, which they call Jesus. On\nChristmas-day they dress it in swaddling-clothes and lay it in the\nmanger: and then fall down and worship it.\n\nThe next day, as the traveller was ready to mount his camel, the people\nof Bethlehem came with little articles which they had made. But he would\nnot buy them, because they were images of the Virgin Mary and her holy\nchild, and little white crosses of mother-of-pearl. They were very\npretty: but they were idols, and God hates idols.\n\n\nJERUSALEM.\n\nHere our Lord was crucified.\n\nIs there any child who does not wish to hear about it?\n\nThe children of Jerusalem once loved the Lord, and sang his praises in\nthe temple. Their young voices pleased their Saviour, though not half so\nsweet as angels' songs.\n\nWhich is the place where the temple stood?\n\nIt is Mount Moriah. There is a splendid building there now.\n\nIs it the temple? O no, that was burned many hundreds of years ago. It is\nthe Mosque of Omar that you see; it is the most magnificent mosque in all\nthe world. How sad to think that Mahomedans should worship now in the\nvery spot where once the Son of God taught the people. No Jew, no\nChristian may go into that mosque. The Turks stand near the gate to keep\noff both Jews and Christians.\n\nEvery Friday evening a very touching scene takes place near this mosque.\nThere are some large old stones there, and the Jews say they are part of\ntheir old temple wall: so they come at the beginning of their Sabbath\n(which is on Friday evening) and sit in a row opposite the stones. There\nthey read their Hebrew Old Testaments, then kneel low in the dust, and\nrepeat their prayers with their mouths close to the old stones: because\nthey think that all prayers whispered between the cracks and crevices of\nthese stones will be heard by God. Some Jewesses come, wrapped from head\nto foot in long white veils, and they gently moan and softly sigh over\nJerusalem in ruins.\n\nWhat Jesus said has come to pass, \"Behold, your house is left unto you\ndesolate.\" The thought of this sad day made Jesus weep, and now the sight\nof it makes the Jews weep.\n\nBut there is a place still dearer to our hearts than Mount Moriah. It is\nCalvary. There is a church there: but such a church! a church full of\nimages and crosses. Roman Catholics worship there--and Greeks too: and\nthey often fight in it, for they hate one another, and have fierce\nquarrels.\n\nThat church is called \"The Church of the Holy Sepulchre.\" It is pretended\nthat Christ's tomb or sepulchre is in it. Turks stand at the door and\nmake Christians pay money before they will let them in.\n\nWhen they enter, what do they see?\n\nIn one corner a stone seat. \"There,\" say the monks, \"Jesus sat when He\nwas crowned with thorns.\" In another part there is a stone pillar.\n\"There,\" say the monks, \"He was scourged.\" There is a high place in the\nmiddle of the church with stairs leading up to it. When you stand there\nthe monks say, \"This is the top of Calvary, where the cross stood.\" But\nwe know that the monks do not speak the truth, for the Romans destroyed\nJerusalem soon after Christ's crucifixion, and no one knows the very\nplace where He suffered.\n\nOn Good Friday the monks carry all round the church an image of the\nSaviour as large as life, and they fasten it upon a cross, and take it\ndown again, and put it in the sepulchre, and they take it out again on\nEaster Sunday. How foolish and how wrong are these customs! It was not in\nthis way the apostles showed their love to Christ, but by preaching his\nword.\n\nMount Zion is the place where David brought the ark with songs and\nmusic. There is a church where the Gospel is preached and prayers are\noffered up in Hebrew, (the Jew's language.) The minister is called the\nBishop of Jerusalem. He is a Protestant. A few Jews come to the church at\nMount Zion, and some have believed in the Lord Jesus.\n\nAnd there is a school there where little Jews and Jewesses and little\nMahomedans sit side by side while a Christian lady teaches them about\nJesus. In the evening, after school, she takes them out to play on the\ngreen grass near the city. A little Jewess once much pleased this kind\nteacher as she was sitting on a stone looking at the children playing.\nLittle Esther repeated the verse--\n\n    Glory, honor, praise and power\n    Be unto the Lamb forever;\n    Jesus Christ is our Redeemer,\n    Hallelujah, praise the Lord!\n\nand then she said very earnestly, \"O, ma'am, how sweet to think that\nJesus is _our_ Redeemer. No _man_ can redeem his brother: no money--no\nmoney can do it--only the precious blood of Jesus Christ.\" Little Esther\nseemed as if she loved Jesus, as those children did who sang his praises\nin the temple so many years ago.\n\nBut there is another place--very sad, but very sweet--where you must\ncome. Go down that valley--cross that small stream--(there is a narrow\nbridge)--see those low stone walls--enter: it is the Garden of\nGethsemane. Eight aged olive-trees are still standing there; but Jesus\ncomes there no more with his beloved disciples. What a night was that\nwhen He wept and prayed--when the angel comforted Him--and Judas betrayed\nHim.\n\nThe mountain just above Gethsemane is the Mount of Olives. Beautiful\nolive-trees are growing there still. There is a winding path leading to\nthe top. The Saviour trod upon that Mount just before he was caught up\ninto heaven. His feet shall stand there again, and every eye shall see\nthe Saviour in his glory. But will every eye be glad to see Him?\n\nO no; there will be bitter tears then flowing from many eyes.\n\nAnd what kind of a city is Jerusalem?\n\nIt is a sad and silent city. The houses are dark and dirty, the streets\nare narrow, and the pavement rough. There are a great many very old Jews\nthere. Jews come from all countries when they are old to Jerusalem, that\nthey may die and be buried there. Their reason is that they think that\nall Jews who are buried in their burial-ground at Jerusalem will be\nraised _first_ at the last day, and will be happy forever. Most of the\nold Jews are very poor: though money is sent to them every year from the\nJews in Europe.\n\nThere are also a great many sick Jews in Jerusalem, because it is such an\nunhealthy place. The water in the wells and pools gets very bad in\nsummer, and gives the ague and even the plague. Good English Christians\nhave sent a doctor to Jerusalem to cure the poor sick people. One little\ngirl of eleven years old came among the rest--all in rags and with bare\nfeet: she was an orphan, and she lived with a Jewish washerwoman. The\ndoctor went to see the child in her home. Where was it? It was near the\nmosque, and the way to it was down a narrow, dark passage, leading to a\nsmall close yard. The old woman lived in one room with her grandchildren\nand the orphan: there was a divan at each end, that is, the floor was\nraised for people to sleep on. The orphan was not allowed to sleep on the\ndivans, but she had a heap of rags for her bed in another part. The\nchild's eyes glistened with delight at the sight of her kind friend the\ndoctor, he asked her whether she went to school. This question made the\nwhole family laugh: for no one in Jerusalem teaches girls to read except\nthe kind Christian lady I told you of.\n\n\nTHE DEAD SEA.\n\nThe most gloomy and horrible place in the Holy Land is the Dead Sea. In\nthat place there once stood four wicked cities, and God destroyed them\nwith fire and brimstone.\n\nYou have heard of Sodom and Gomorrah.\n\nA clergyman who went to visit the Dead Sea rode on horseback, and was\naccompanied by men to guard him on the way, as there are robbers hid\namong the rocks. He took some of the water of the Dead Sea in his mouth,\nthat he might taste it, and he found it salt and bitter; but he would not\nswallow it, nor would he bathe in it.\n\nHe went next to look at the River Jordan. How different a place from the\ndreary, desolate Dead Sea! Beautiful trees grow on the banks, and the\nends of the branches dip into the stream. The minister chose a part quite\ncovered with branches and bathed there, and as the waters went over his\nhead, he thought, \"My Saviour was baptized in this river.\" But he did not\nthink, as many pilgrims do who come here every year, that his sins were\nwashed away by the water: no, he well knew that Christ's blood alone\ncleanses from sin. There is a place where the Roman Catholics bathe, and\nanother where the Greeks bathe every year; they would not on any account\nbathe in the same part, because they disagree so much.\n\nAfter drinking some of the sweet soft water of Jordan, the minister\ntravelled from Jericho to Jerusalem. He went the very same way that the\ngood Samaritan travelled who once found a poor Jew lying half-killed by\nthieves. Even to this day thieves often attack travellers in these parts:\nbecause the way is so lonely, and so rugged, and so full of places where\nthieves can hide themselves.\n\nA horse must be a very good climber to carry a traveller along the steep,\nrough, and narrow paths, and a traveller must be a bold man to venture to\ngo to the edge of the precipices, and near the robbers' caves.\n\n\nSAMARIA.\n\nIn the midst of Palestine is the well where the Lord spoke so kindly to\nthe woman of Samaria. In the midst of a beautiful valley there is a heap\nof rough stones: underneath is the well. But it is not easy to drink\nwater out of this well. For the stone on the top is so heavy, that it\nrequires many people to remove it: and then the well is deep, and a very\nlong rope is necessary to reach the water. The clergyman (of whom I have\nspoken so often) had nothing to draw with; therefore, even if he could\nhave removed the stone, he could not have drunk of the water. The water\nmust be very cool and refreshing, because it lies so far away from the\nheat. That was the reason the Samaritan woman came so far to draw it: for\nthere were other streams nearer the city, but there was no water like the\nwater of Jacob's well.\n\nThe city where that woman lived was called Sychar. It is still to be\nseen, and it is still full of people. You remember that the men of that\ncity listened to the words of Jesus, and perhaps that is the reason it\nhas not been destroyed. The country around is the most fruitful in all\nCanaan; there are such gardens of melons and cucumbers, and such groves\nof mulberry-trees.\n\n\nGALILEE.\n\nHow different from Sychar is Capernaum! That was the city where Jesus\nlived for a long while, where he preached and did miracles. It was on the\nborders of the lake of Genesareth. The traveller inquired of the people\nnear the lake, where Capernaum once stood; but no one knew of such a\nplace: it is utterly destroyed. Jesus once said, \"Woe unto Capernaum.\"\nWhy? Because it repented not.\n\nThe lake of Genesareth looked smooth as glass when the traveller saw it;\nbut he heard that dreadful storms sometimes ruffled those smooth waters.\nIt was a sweet and lovely spot; not gloomy and horrible like the Dead\nSea. The shepherds were there leading their flocks among the green hills\nwhere once the multitude sat down while Jesus fed them.\n\nNot very far off is the city where Jesus lived when he was a boy.\n\nNAZARETH.--All around are rugged rocky hills. In old times it was\nconsidered a wicked city; perhaps it got this bad name from wicked people\ncoming here to hide themselves: and it seems just fit for a hiding-place.\nFrom the top of one of the high crags the Nazarenes once attempted to\nhurl the blessed Saviour.\n\nThere is a Roman Catholic convent there, where the minister lodged. He\nwas much disturbed all day by the noise in the town; not the noise of\ncarts and wagons, for there are none in Canaan, but of screaming\nchildren, braying asses, and grunting camels. One of his servants came to\nhim complaining that he had lost his purse with all his wages. He had\nleft it in his cell, and when he came back it was gone. Who could have\ntaken it? It was clear one of the servants of the convent must have\nstolen it, for one of them had the key of the room. The travellers went\nto the judge of the town to complain; but the judge, who was a Turk, was\nasleep, and no one was allowed to awake him. In the evening, when he did\nawake, he would not see justice done, because he said he had nothing to\ndo with the servants at the convent, as they were Christians. Nazareth,\nyou see, is still a wicked city, where robbery is committed and not\npunished.\n\nThere is much to make the traveller sad as he wanders about the Holy\nLand.\n\nThat land was once _fruitful_, but now it is barren. It is not surprising\nthat no one plants and sows in the fields, because the Turks would take\naway the harvests.\n\nOnce it was a _peaceful_ land, but now there are so many enemies that\nevery man carries a gun to defend himself.\n\nOnce it was a _holy_ land, but now Mahomet is honored, and not the God of\nIsrael.\n\nWhen shall it again be fruitful, and peaceful, and holy? When the Jews\nshall repent of their sins and turn to the Lord. Then, says the prophet\nEzekiel, (xxxvi. 35,) \"They shall say, This land that was desolate is\nbecome like the garden of Eden.\"[1]\n\n    [1] Taken chiefly from \"A Pastor's Memorial,\" by the Rev. George Fisk.\n\n\n\n\nSYRIA.\n\n\nThose who love the Holy Land will like to hear about Syria also; for\nAbraham lived there before he came into Canaan. Therefore the Israelites\nwere taught to say when they offered a basket of fruit to God, \"A Syrian\nwas my father.\" It was a heathen land in old times; and it is now a\nMahomedan land; though there are a few Christians there, but very\nignorant Christians, who know nothing of the Bible.\n\nSyria is a beautiful land, and famous for its grand mountains, called\nLebanon. The same clergyman who travelled through the Holy Land went to\nLebanon also. He had to climb up very steep places on horseback, and\nslide down some, as slanting as the roof of a house. But the Syrian\nhorses are very sure-footed. It is the custom for the colts from a month\nold to follow their mothers; and so when a rider mounts the back of the\ncolt's mother, the young creature follows, and it learns to scramble up\nsteep places, and to slide down; even through the towns the colt trots\nafter its mother, and soon becomes accustomed to all kinds of sights and\nsounds: so that Syrian horses neither shy nor stumble.\n\nThe traveller was much surprised at the dress of the women of Lebanon:\nfor on their heads they wear silver horns sticking out from under their\nveils, the strangest head-dress that can be imagined.\n\nThere are sweet flowers growing on the sides of Lebanon; but at the top\nthere are ice and snow.\n\nThe traveller ate some ice, and gave some to the horses; and the poor\nbeasts devoured it eagerly, and seemed quite refreshed by their cold\nmeal.\n\nThe snow of Lebanon is spoken of in the Bible as very pure and\nrefreshing. \"Will a man leave the snow of Lebanon, which cometh from the\nrock of the field?\"--Jer. xviii. 14.\n\nThe traveller earnestly desired to behold the cedars of Lebanon: for a\ngreat deal is said about them in the Bible; indeed, the temple of Solomon\nwas built of those cedars. It was not easy to get close to them; for\nthere were craggy rocks all around: but at last the traveller reached\nthem, and stood beneath their shade. There were twelve very large old\ntrees, and their boughs met at the top, and kept off the heat of the sun.\nThese trees might be compared to holy men, grown old in the service of\nGod: for this is God's promise to his servants,--\"The righteous shall\nflourish like the palm-tree: he shall grow like a cedar in\nLebanon.\"--Psalm xc. 11, 12.\n\n\nDAMASCUS.\n\nThis is the capital of Syria.\n\nIt is perhaps the most ancient city in the world. Even in the time of\nAbraham, Damascus was a city; for his servant Eliezer came from it.\n\nBut Damascus is most famous, on account of a great event which once\nhappened near it. A man going towards that city suddenly saw in the\nheavens a light brighter than the sun, and heard a voice from on high,\ncalling him by his name. Beautiful as the city was, he saw not its beauty\nas he entered it, for he had been struck blind by the great light. That\nman was the great apostle Paul.\n\nWho can help thinking of him among the gardens of fruit-trees surrounding\nDamascus?\n\nThe damask rose is one of the beauties of Damascus. There is one spot\nquite covered with this lovely red rose.\n\nI will now give an account of a visit a stranger paid to a rich man in\nDamascus. He went through dull and narrow streets, with no windows\nlooking into the streets. He stopped before a low door, and was shown\ninto a large court behind the house. There was a fountain in the midst of\nthe court, and flower-pots all round. The visitor was then led into a\nroom with a marble floor, but with no furniture except scarlet cushions.\nTo refresh him after his journey, he was taken to the bath. There a man\ncovered him with a lather of soap and water, then dashed a quantity of\nhot water over him, and then rubbed him till he was quite dry and warm.\n\nWhen he came out of the bath, two servants brought him some sherbet. It\nis a cooling drink made of lemon-juice and grape-juice mixed with water.\n\nThe master of the house received the stranger very politely: he not only\nshook hands with him, but afterwards he kissed his own hand, as a mark of\nrespect to his guest. The servants often kissed the visitor's hand.\n\nThe dinner lasted a long while, for only one dish was brought up at a\ntime. Of course there were no ladies at the dinner, for in Mahomedan\ncountries they are always hidden. There were two lads there, who were\nnephews to the master of the house; and the visitor was much surprised to\nobserve that they did not sit down to dinner with the company; but that\nthey stood near their uncle, directing the servants what to bring him;\nand now and then presenting a cup of wine to him, or his guests. But it\nis the custom in Syria for young people to wait upon their elders;\nhowever, they may speak to the company while they are waiting upon them.\n\nDamascus used to be famous for its swords: but now the principal things\nmade there, are stuffs embroidered with silver, and boxes of curious\nwoods, as well as red and yellow slippers. The Syrians always wear yellow\nslippers, and when they walk out they put on red slippers over the\nyellow. If you want to buy any of the curious works of Damascus, you must\ngo to the bazaars in the middle of the town; there the sellers sit as in\na market-place, and display their goods.\n\nSCHOOLS.--It is not the custom in Syria for girls to learn to read. But a\nfew years ago, a good Syrian, named Assaad, opened a school for little\ngirls as well as for boys.\n\nIt was easy to get the little boys to come; but the mothers did not like\nto send their little girls. They laughed, and said, \"Who ever heard of a\ngirl going to school? Girls need not learn to read.\" The first girl who\nattended Assaad's school was named Angoul, which means \"Angel.\" Where is\nthe child that deserves such a name? Nowhere; for there is none\nrighteous, no, not one. Angoul belonged not to Mahomedan parents, but to\nthose called Christians; yet the Christians in Syria are almost as\nignorant as heathens.\n\nAngoul had been taught to spin silk; for her father had a garden of\nmulberry-trees, and a quantity of silk worms. She was of so much use in\nspinning, that her mother did not like to spare her: but the little maid\npromised, that if she might go to school, she would spin faster than ever\nwhen she came home. How happy she was when she obtained leave to go! See\nher when the sun has just risen, about six o'clock, tripping to school.\nShe is twelve years old. Her eyes are dark, but her hair is light. Angoul\nhas not been scorched by the sun, like many Syrian girls, because she has\nsat in-doors at her wheel during the heat of the day. She is dressed in a\nloose red gown, and a scarlet cap with a yellow handkerchief twisted\nround it like a turban.\n\nAt school Angoul is very attentive, both while she is reading in her\nTestament, and while she is writing on her tin slate with a reed dipped\nin ink. She returns home at noon through the burning sun, and comes to\nschool again to stay till five. Then it is cool and pleasant, and Angoul\nspins by her mother's side in the lovely garden of fruit-trees before the\nhouse. Has she not learned to sing many a sweet verse about the garden\nabove, and the heavenly husbandman? As she watches the budding vine, she\ncan think now of Him who said, \"I am the true vine.\" As she sits beneath\nthe olive-tree, she can call to mind the words, \"I am like a green\nolive-tree in the house of my God.\" Angoul is growing like an angel, if\nshe takes delight in meditating on the word of God.[2]\n\n    [2] Extracted chiefly from the Rev. George Fisk's \"Pastor's\n        Memorial,\" and Kinnear's Travels.\n\n\n\n\nARABIA.\n\n\nThis is the land in which the Israelites wandered for forty years. You\nhave heard what a dry, dreary, desert place the wilderness was. There is\nstill a wilderness in Arabia; and there are still wanderers in it; not\nIsraelites, but Arabs. These men live in tents, and go from place to\nplace with their large flocks of sheep and goats. But there are other\nArabs who live in towns, as we do.\n\nDo you know who is the father of the Arabs?\n\nThe same man who is the father of the Jews.\n\nWhat, was Abraham their father?\n\nYes, he was.\n\nDo you remember Abraham's ungodly son, Ishmael?\n\nHe was cast out of his father's house for mocking his little brother\nIsaac, and he went into Arabia.\n\nAnd what sort of people are the Arabs?\n\nWild and fierce people.\n\nTravellers are afraid of passing through Arabia, lest the Arabs should\nrob and murder them; and no one has ever been able to conquer the Arabs.\nThe Arabs are very proud, and will not bear the least affront. Sometimes\none man says to another, \"The wrong side of your turban is out.\" This\nspeech is considered an affront never to be forgotten. The Arabs are so\nunforgiving and revengeful that they will seek to kill a man year after\nyear. One man was observed to carry about a small dagger. He said his\nreason was, he was hoping some day to meet his enemy and kill him.\n\nOf what religion are this revengeful people? The Mahomedan.\n\nMahomed was an Arab. It is thought a great honor to be descended from\nhim. Those men who say Mahomed is their father wear a green turban, and\nvery proud they are of their green turbans, even though they may only be\nbeggars.\n\nTHE ARABIAN WOMEN.--They are shut up like the women in Syria when they\nlive in towns, but the women in tents are obliged to walk about;\ntherefore they wear a thick veil over their face, with small holes for\ntheir eyes to peep out.\n\nThe poor women wear a long shirt of white or blue; but the rich women\nwrap themselves in magnificent shawls. To make themselves handsome, they\nblacken their eyelids, paint their nails red, and wear gold rings in\ntheir ears and noses. They delight in fine furniture. A room lined with\nlooking-glasses, and with a ceiling of looking-glasses, is thought\ncharming.\n\nARAB TENTS.--They are black, being made of the hair of black goats. Some\nof them are so large that they are divided into three rooms, one for the\ncattle, one for the men, and one for the women.\n\nARAB CUSTOMS.--The Arabs sit on the ground, resting on their heels, and\nfor tables they have low stools. A large dish of rice and minced mutton\nis placed on the table, and immediately every hand is thrust into it; and\nin a moment it is empty. Then another dish is brought, and another; and\nsometimes fourteen dishes of rice, one after the other, till all the\ncompany are satisfied. They eat very fast, and each retires from dinner as\nsoon as he likes, without waiting for the rest. After dinner they drink\nwater, and a small cup of coffee without milk or sugar. Then they smoke\nfor many hours.\n\nThe Arabs do not indulge in eating or drinking too much, and this is one\nof the best parts of their character.\n\n[Illustration: CAMELS.]\n\n\nTHE THREE EVILS OF ARABIA.\n\nThe first evil is want of water. There is no river in Arabia: and the\nsmall streams are often dried up by the heat.\n\nThe second evil is many locusts, which come in countless swarms, and\ndevour every green thing.\n\nThe third evil is the burning winds. When a traveller feels it coming, he\nthrows himself on the ground, covering his face with his cloak, lest the\nhot sand should be blown up his nostrils. Sometimes men and horses are\nchoked by this sand.\n\nThese are the three great evils; but there is a still greater, the\nreligion of Mahomed: for this injures the soul; the other evils only hurt\nthe body.\n\n\nTHE THREE ANIMALS OF ARABIA.\n\nThe animals for which Arabia is famous are animals to ride upon.\n\nTwo of them are often seen in England; though here they are not nearly as\nfine as in Arabia; but the third animal is never used in England. Most\nEnglish boys have ridden upon an ass. In Arabia the ass is a handsome and\nspirited creature. The horse is strong and swift, and yet obedient and\ngentle. The camel is just suited to Arabia. His feet are fit to tread\nupon the burning sands; because the soles are more like India-rubber than\nlike flesh: his hard mouth, lined with horn, is not hurt by the prickly\nplants of the desert; and his hump full of fat is as good to him as a bag\nof provisions: for on a journey the fat helps to support him, and enables\nhim to do with very little food. Besides all this, his inside is so made\nthat he can live without water for three days.\n\nA dromedary is a swifter kind of camel, and is just as superior to a\ncamel as a riding-horse is to a cart-horse.\n\n\nTHE THREE PRODUCTIONS OF ARABIA.\n\nThese are coffee, dates, and gums.\n\nFor these Arabia is famous.\n\nThe coffee plants are shrubs. The hills are covered with them; the white\nblossoms look beautiful among the dark green leaves, and so do the red\nberries.\n\nThe dates grow on the palm-trees; and they are the chief food of the\nArabs. The Arabs despise those countries where there are no dates.\n\nThere are various sweet-smelling gums that flow from Arabian trees.\n\n\nTHE THREE PARTS OF ARABIA.\n\nYou see from what I have just said that there are plants and trees in\nArabia. Then it is clear that the whole land is not a desert. No, it is\nnot; there is only a part called Desert Arabia; that is on the north.\nThere is a part in the middle almost as bad, called Stony Arabia, yet\nsome sweet plants grow there; but there is a part in the south called\nHappy Arabia, where grow abundance of fragrant spices, and of\nwell-flavored coffee.\n\n\nTHE THREE CITIES OF ARABIA.\n\nArabia has long been famous for three cities, called Mecca, Medina, and\nMocha.\n\n_Mecca_ is considered the holiest city in the world. And why? Because the\nfalse prophet Mahomed was born there. On that account Mahomedans come\nfrom all parts of the world to worship in the great temple there.\nSometimes Mecca is as full of people as a hive is full of bees.\n\nOf all the cities in the East, Mecca is the gayest, because the houses\nhave windows looking into the streets. In these houses are lodgings for\nthe pilgrims.\n\nAnd what is it the pilgrims worship?\n\nA great black stone, which they say the angel Gabriel brought down from\nheaven as a foundation for Mahomed's house. They kiss it seven times, and\nafter each kiss they walk round it.\n\nThen they bathe in a well, which they say is the well the angel showed to\nHagar in the desert, and they think the waters of this well can wash away\nall their sins. Alas! they know not of the blood which can wash away\n_all_ sin.\n\n_Medina_ contains the tomb of Mahomed; yet it is not thought so much of\nas Mecca. Perhaps the Mahomedans do not like to be reminded that Mahomed\ndied like any other man, and never rose again.\n\n_Mocha_.--This is a part whence very fine coffee is sent to Europe.\n\n\nTRAVELS IN THE DESERT.\n\nOf all places in Arabia, which would you desire most to see? Would it not\nbe Mount Sinai? Our great and glorious God once spoke from the top of\nthat mountain.\n\nI will tell you of an English clergyman who travelled to see that\nmountain. As he knew there were many robbers on the way, he hired an Arab\nsheikh to take care of him. A sheikh is a chief, or captain. Suleiman\nwas a fine-looking man, dressed in a red shirt, with a shawl twisted\nround his waist, a purple cloak, and a red cap. His feet and legs were\nbare. His eyes were bright, his skin was brown, and his beard black. To\nhis girdle were fastened a huge knife and pistols, and by his side hung a\nsword. This man brought a band of Arabs with him to defend the travellers\nfrom the robbers in the desert.\n\nOne day the whole party set out mounted on camels. After going some\ndistance, a number of children were seen scampering among the rocks, and\nlooking like brown monkeys. These were the children of the Arabs who\naccompanied the Englishman. The wild little creatures ran to their\nfathers, and saluted them in the respectful manner that Arab children are\ntaught to do.\n\nAt last a herd of goats was seen with a fine boy of twelve years old\nleading them. He was the son of Suleiman. The father seemed to take great\ndelight in this boy, and introduced him to the traveller. The kind\ngentleman riding on a camel, put down his hand to the boy. The little\nfellow, after touching the traveller's hand, kissed his own, according to\nthe Arabian manner.\n\nThe way to Mount Sinai was very rough; indeed, the traveller was\nsometimes obliged to get off his camel, and to climb among the crags on\nhands and knees. How glad he was when the Arabs pointed to a mountain,\nand said, \"That is Mount Sinai.\" With what fear and reverence he gazed\nupon it! Here it was that the voice of the great God was once heard\nspeaking out of the midst of the smoke, and clouds, and darkness!\n\nHow strange it must be to see in this lonely gloomy spot, a great\nbuilding! Yet there is one at the foot of the mountain. What can it be? A\nconvent. See those high walls around. It is necessary to have high walls,\nbecause all around are bands of fierce robbers. It is even unsafe to have\na door near the ground. There is a door quite high up in the wall; but\nwhat use can it be of, when there are no steps by which to reach it? Can\nyou guess how people get in by this door? A rope is let down from the\ndoor to draw the people up. One by one they are drawn up. In the inside\nof the walls there are steps by which travellers go down into the convent\nbelow. The monks who live there belong to the Greek church.\n\nThe clergyman was lodged in a small cell spread with carpets and\ncushions, and he was waited upon by the monks.\n\nThese monks think that they lead a very holy life in the desert. They eat\nno meat, and they rise in the night to pray in their chapel. But God does\nnot care for such service as this. He never commanded men to shut\nthemselves up in a desert, but rather to do good in the world.\n\nOne day the monks told the traveller they would show him the place where\nthe burning bush once stood. How could they know the place? However, they\npretended to know it. They led the way to the chapel, then taking off\ntheir shoes, they went down some stone steps till they came to a round\nroom under ground, with three lamps burning in the midst. \"There,\" said\nthe monks, \"is the very spot where the burning bush once stood.\"\n\nThere were two things the traveller enjoyed while in the convent, the\nbeautiful garden full of thick trees and sweet flowers; and the cool pure\nwater from the well. Such water and such a garden in the midst of a\ndesert were sweet indeed.\n\nThe Arabs, who accompanied the traveller, enjoyed much the plentiful\nmeals provided at the convent; for the monks bought sheep from the\nshepherds around, to feed their guests. After leaving the convent,\nSuleiman was taken ill in consequence of having eaten too much while\nthere. The clergyman gave him medicine, which cured him. The Arabs were\nvery fond of their chief, and were so grateful to the stranger for giving\nhim in medicine, that they called him \"the good physician.\" Suleiman\nhimself showed his gratitude by bringing his own black coffee-pot into\nthe tent of the stranger, and asking him to drink coffee with him; for\nsuch is the pride of an Arab chief, that he thinks it is a very great\nhonor indeed for a stranger to share his meal.\n\nBut the traveller soon found that it is dangerous to pass through a\ndesert. Why? Not on account of wild beasts, but of wild men. There was a\ntribe of Arabs very angry with Suleiman, because he was conducting the\ntravellers through _their_ part of the desert. They wanted to be the\nguides through that part, in hopes of getting rewarded by a good sum of\nmoney. You see how covetous they were. The love of money is the root of\nall evil.\n\nThese angry Arabs were hidden among the rocks and hills; and every now\nand then they came suddenly out of their hiding-places, and with a loud\nvoice threatened to punish Suleiman.\n\nHow much alarmed the travellers were! but none more than Suleiman\nhimself. He requested the clergyman to travel during the whole night, in\norder the sooner to get out of the reach of the enemy. The clergyman\npromised to go as far as he was able. What a journey it was! No one durst\nspeak aloud to his companions, lest the enemies should be hidden among\nthe rocks close by, and should overhear them. At midnight the whole\ncompany pitched their tents by the coast of the Red Sea. Early in the\nmorning the minister went alone to bathe in its smooth waters. After he\nhad bathed, and when he was just going to return to the tents, he was\nstartled by hearing the sound of a gun. The sound came from the midst of\na small grove of palm-trees close by. Alarmed, he ran back quickly to the\ntents: again he heard the report of a gun: and again a third time. The\ntravellers, Arabs and all, were gathered together, expecting an enemy to\nrush out of the grove. But where was Suleiman? He had gone some time\nbefore into the grove of palm-trees to talk to the enemies.\n\nPresently the traveller saw about forty Arabs leave the grove and go far\naway. But Suleiman came not. So the minister went into the grove to\nsearch for him, and there he found---not Suleiman--but his dead body!\n\nThere it lay on the ground, covered with blood. The minister gazed upon\nthe dark countenance once so joyful, and he thought it looked as if the\npoor Arab had died in great agony. It was frightful to observe the number\nof his wounds. Three balls had been shot into his body by the gun which\nwent off three times. Three great cuts had been made in his head; his\nneck was almost cut off from his head, and his hand from his arm! How\nsuddenly was the proud Arab laid low in the dust! All his delights were\nperished forever. Suleiman had been promised a new dress of gay colors at\nthe end of the journey; but he would never more gird a shawl round his\nactive frame, or fold a turban round his swarthy brow. The Arabs wrapped\ntheir beloved master in a loose garment, and placing him on his beautiful\ncamel, they went in deep grief to a hill at a little distance. There they\nburied him. They dug no grave; but they made a square tomb of large loose\nstones, and laid the dead body in the midst, and then covered it with\nmore stones. There Suleiman sleeps in the desert. But the day shall come\nwhen \"the earth shall disclose her blood, and shall no more cover her\nslain:\" and then shall the blood of Suleiman and his slain body be\nuncovered, and his murderer brought to judgment.[3]\n\n    [3] Extracted chiefly from \"The Pastor's Memorial,\" by the Rev.\n        G. Fisk. Published by R. Carter & Brothers.\n\n\n\n\nTURKEY IN ASIA.\n\n\nIs there a Turkey in Asia as well as a Turkey in Europe?\n\nYes, there is; and it is governed by the same sultan, and filled by the\nsame sort of persons. All the Turks are Mahomedans.\n\nYou may know a Mahomedan city at a distance. When we look at a Christian\ncity we see the steeples and spires of churches; but when we look at a\nMahomedan city we see rising above the houses and trees the domes and\nminarets of mosques. What are domes and minarets? A dome is the round top\nof a mosque: and the minarets are the tall slender towers. A minaret is\nof great use to the Mahomedans.\n\nDo you see the little narrow gallery outside the minaret. There is a man\nstanding there. He is calling people to say their prayers. He calls so\nloud that all the people below can hear, and the sounds he utters are\nlike sweet music. But would it not make you sad to hear them when you\nremembered what he was telling people to do? To pray to the god of\nMahomet, not to the God and Father of the Lord Jesus Christ; but to a\nfalse god: to no God. This man goes up the dark narrow stairs winding\ninside the minaret five times a day: first he goes as soon as the sun\nrises, then at noon, next in the afternoon, then at sunset, and last of\nall in the night. Ascending and descending those steep stairs is all his\nbusiness, and it is hard work, and fatigues him very much.\n\nIn the court of the mosque there is a fountain. There every one washes\nbefore he goes into the mosque to repeat his prayers, thinking to please\nGod by clean hands instead of a clean heart. Inside the mosque there are\nno pews or benches, but only mats and carpets spread on the floor. There\nthe worshippers kneel and touch the ground with their foreheads. The\nminister of the mosque is called the Imam. He stands in a niche in the\nwall, with his back to the people, and repeats prayers.\n\nBut he is not the preacher. The sheikh, or chief man of the town,\npreaches; not on Sunday, but on Friday. He sits on a high place and talks\nto the people--not about pardon and peace, and heaven and holiness--but\nabout the duty of washing their hands before prayers, and of bowing down\nto the ground, and such vain services.\n\nIn the mosque there are two rows of very large wax candles, much higher\nthan a man, and as thick as his arm, and they are lighted at night.\n\nIt is considered right to go to the mosque for prayers five times a day;\nbut very few Mahomedans go so often. Wherever people may be, they are\nexpected to kneel down and repeat their prayers, whether in the house or\nin the street. But very few do so. While they pray, Mahomedans look about\nall the time, and in the midst speak to any one, and then go on again;\nfor their hearts are not in their prayers; they do not worship in spirit\nand in truth.\n\nThere are no images or pictures in the mosques, because Mahomet forbid\nhis followers to worship idols. There are Korans on reading stands in\nvarious parts of the mosque for any one to read who pleases.\n\nThe people leave their red slippers at the door, keeping on their yellow\nboots only; but they do not uncover their heads as Christians do.\n\nWas Christ ever known in this Mahomedan land? Yes, long before he was\nknown in England. Turkey in Asia used to be called Asia Minor, (or Asia\nthe less,) and there it was that Paul the apostle was born, and there he\npreached and turned many to Christ. But at last the Christians began to\nworship images, and the fierce Turks came and turned the churches into\nmosques. This was the punishment God sent the Christians for breaking his\nlaw. In some of the mosques you may see the marks of the pictures which\nthe Christians painted on the walls, and which the Turks nearly scraped\noff.\n\nHow dreadful it would be if our churches should ever be turned into\nmosques! May God never send us this heavy punishment.\n\n\nARMENIA.\n\nOne corner of Turkey in Asia is called Armenia. There are many high\nmountains in Armenia, and one of them you would like to see very much. It\nis the mountain on which Noah's ark rested after the flood. I mean\nArarat.[4]\n\nIt is a very high mountain with two peaks; and its highest peak is always\ncovered with snow. People say that no one ever climbed to the top of that\npeak. I should think Noah's ark rested on a lower part of the mountain\nbetween the two peaks, for it would have been very cold for Noah's\nfamily on the snow-covered peak, and it would have been very difficult\nfor them to get down. How pleasant it must be to stand on the side of\nArarat, and to think, \"Here my great father Noah stood, and my great\nmother, Noah's wife; here they saw the earth in all its greenness, just\nwashed with the waters of the flood, and here they rejoiced and praised\nGod.\"\n\nI am glad to say that all the Armenians are not Mahomedans. Many are\nChristians, but, alas! they know very little about Christ except his\nname. I will tell you a short anecdote to show how ignorant they are.\n\nOnce a traveller went to see an old church in Armenia called the Church\nof Forty Steps, because there are forty steps to reach it: for it is\nbuilt on the steep banks of a river.\n\nThe traveller found the churchyard full of boys. This churchyard was\ntheir school-room. And what were their books? The grave-stones that lay\nflat upon the ground. Four priests were teaching the boys. These priests\nwore black turbans; while Turkish Imams wear white turbans. One of these\nArmenian priests led the traveller to an upper room, telling him he had\nsomething very wonderful to show him. What could it be? The priest went\nto a nacho in the wall and took out of it a bundle; then untied a silk\nhandkerchief, and then another, and then another; till he had untied\ntwenty-five silk handkerchiefs. What was the precious thing so carefully\nwrapped up? It was a New Testament.\n\nIt is a precious book indeed: but it ought to be read, and not wrapped\nup. The priest praised it, saying, \"This is a wonderful book; it has\noften been laid upon sick persons, and has cured them.\" Then a poor old\nman, bent and tottering, pressed forward to kiss the book, and to rub his\nheavy head. This was worshipping the _book_, instead of Him who wrote it.\n\nAn Armenian village looks like a number of molehills: for the dwellings\nare holes dug in the ground with low stone walls round the holes; the\nroof is made of branches of trees and heaps of earth. There are generally\ntwo rooms in the hole--one for the family, and one for the cattle.\n\nA traveller arrived one evening at such a village; and he was pleased to\nsee fruit-trees overshadowing the hovels, and women, without veils,\nspinning cotton under their shadow. But he was not pleased with the room\nwhere he was to sleep. The way lay through a long dark passage under\nground; and the room was filled with cattle: there was no window nor\nchimney. How dark and hot it was! Yet it was too damp to sleep out of\ndoors, because a large lake was near; therefore he wrapped his cloak\naround him, and lay upon the ground; but he could not sleep because of\nthe stinging of insects, and the trampling of cattle: and glad he was in\nthe morning to breathe again the fresh air.\n\nRich Armenians have fine houses. Once a traveller dined with a rich\nArmenian. The dinner was served up in a tray, and placed on a low stool,\nwhile the company sat on the ground. One dish after another was served up\ntill the traveller was tired of tasting them. But there was not only too\nmuch to _eat_; there was also too much to _drink_. Rakee, a kind of\nbrandy, was handed about; and afterwards a musician came in and played\nand sang to amuse the company. In Turkey there is neither playing, nor\nsinging, nor drinking spirits. The Turks think themselves much better\nthan Christians. \"For,\" say they, \"we drink less and pray more.\" They do\nnot know that real Christians are not fond of drinking, and are fond of\npraying; only _they_ pray more in _secret_, and the Turks more in\n_public_.\n\n\nKURDISTAN.\n\nThe fiercest of all the people in Asia are the Kurds.\n\nThey are the terror of all who live near them.\n\nTheir dwellings are in the mountains; there some live in villages, and\nsome in black tents, and some in strong castles. At night they rush down\nfrom the mountains upon the people in the valleys, uttering a wild yell,\nand brandishing their swords. They enter the houses, and begin to pack up\nthe things they find, and to place them on the backs of their mules and\nasses, while they drive away the cattle of the poor people; and if any\none attempts to resist them, they kill him. You may suppose in what\nterror the poor villagers live in the valleys. They keep a man to watch\nall night, as well as large dogs; and they build a strong tower in the\nmidst of the village where they run to hide themselves when they are\nafraid.\n\nThe reason why the Armenians live in holes in the ground is because they\nhope the Kurds may not find out where they are.\n\nThose Kurds who live in tents often move from place to place. The black\ntents are folded up and placed on the backs of mules; and a large kettle\nis slung upon the end of the tent-pole. The men and women drive the\nherds and flocks, while the children and the chickens ride upon the cows.\n\nThe Kurds have thin, dark faces, hooked noses, and black eyes, with a\nfierce and malicious look.\n\nThey are of the Mahomedan religion, and the call to prayers may be heard\nin the villages of these robbers and murderers.\n\n\nMESOPOTAMIA.\n\nThis country is part of Turkey in Asia. It lies between two very famous\nrivers, the Tigris and the Euphrates, often spoken of in the Bible. The\nword Mesopotamia means \"between rivers.\" It was between these rivers that\nfaithful Abraham lived when God first called him to be his friend. Should\nyou not like to see that country? It is now full of ruins. The two most\nancient cities in the world were built on the Tigris and Euphrates.\n\nNineveh was on the Tigris.\n\nWhat a city that was at the time Jonah preached there! Its walls were so\nthick that three chariots could go on the top all abreast.\n\nBut what is Nineveh now? Look at those green mounds. Under those heaps of\nrubbish lies Nineveh. A traveller has been digging among those mounds,\nand has found the very throne of the kings of Nineveh, and the images of\nwinged bulls and lions which adorned the palace. God overthrew Nineveh\nbecause it was wicked.\n\nThere is another ancient city lying in ruins on the Euphrates, it is\nBabylon the Great.\n\nThere are nothing but heaps of bricks to be seen where once proud Babylon\nstood. Where are now the streets fifteen miles long? Where are the\nhanging gardens? Gardens one above the other, the wonder of the world?\nWhere is now the temple of Belus, (or of Babel, as some think,) with its\ngolden statue? All, all are now crumbled into rubbish. God has destroyed\nBabylon as he said.\n\nThere are dens of wild beasts among the ruins. A traveller saw some bones\nof a sheep in one, the remains, he supposed, of a lion's dinner; but he\ndid not like to go further into the den to see who dwelt there. Owls and\nbats fill all the dark places. But no men live there, though human bones\nare often found scattered about, and they turn into dust as soon as they\nare touched.\n\nThere is now a great city in Mesopotamia, called Bagdad. In Babylon no\nsound is heard but the howlings of wild beasts; in Bagdad men may be\nheard screaming and hallooing from morning to night. The drivers of the\ncamels and the mules shout as they press through the narrow crooked\nstreets, and even the ladies riding on white donkeys, and attended by\nblack slaves, scream and halloo.\n\nIn summer it is so hot in Bagdad that people during the day live in rooms\nunder ground, and sleep on their flat roofs at night.\n\nIt is curious to see the people who have been sleeping on the roof get up\nin the morning. First they roll up their mattrasses, their coverlids, and\npillows, and put them in the house. The children cannot fold up theirs,\nbut their mothers or black slaves do it for them. The men repeat their\nprayers, and then drink a cup of coffee, which their wives present to\nthem. The wives kneel as they offer the cup to their lords, and stand\nwith their hands crossed while their lords are drinking, then kneel down\nagain to receive the cup, and to kiss their lords' hand. Then the men\ntake their pipes, and lounge on their cushions, while the women say their\nprayers. And when do the children say their prayers? Never. They know\nonly of Mahomet; they know not the Saviour who said, \"Suffer little\nchildren to come unto me.\"\n\n    [4] It is remarkable that this mountain lies at the point where\n        three great empires meet, namely, Russia, Persia, and Turkey.\n\n\n\n\nPERSIA.\n\n\nIs this country mentioned in the Bible? Yes; we read of Cyrus, the king\nof Persia. Isaiah spoke of him before he was born, and called him by his\nname. See chapter xlv.\n\nPersia is now a Mahomedan country. The Turks, you remember, are\nMahomedans too. Perhaps you think those two nations, the Turks and the\nPersians, must agree well together, as they are of the same religion. Far\nfrom it. No nations hate one another more than Turks and Persians do; and\nthe reason is, that though they both believe in Mahomet, they disagree\nabout his son-in law, Ali. The Persians are very fond of him, and keep a\nday of mourning in memory of his death; whereas the Turks do not care for\nAli at all.\n\nBut is this a reason why they should hate one another so much?\n\nEven in their common customs the Persians differ from the Turks. The\nTurks sit cross-legged on the ground; the Persians sit upon their heels.\nWhich way of sitting should you prefer? I think you would find it more\ncomfortable to sit like a Turk.\n\nThe Turks sit on sofas and lean against cushions; the Persians sit on\ncarpets and lean against the wall. I know you would prefer the Turkish\nfashion. The Turks drink coffee without either milk or sugar; the\nPersians drink tea with sugar, though without milk. The Turks wear\nturbans; the Persians wear high caps of black lamb's-wool.\n\nNot only are their _customs_ different; but their _characters_. The Turks\nare grave and the Persians lively. The Turks are silent, the Persians\ntalkative. The Turks are rude, the Persians polite. Now I am sure you\nlike the Persians better than the Turks. But wait a little--the Turks are\nvery proud; the Persians are very deceitful. An old Persian was heard to\nsay, \"We all tell lies whenever we can.\" The Persians are not even\nashamed when their falsehoods are found out. When they sell they ask too\nmuch; when they make promises they break them. In short, it is impossible\nto trust a Persian.\n\nThe Turks obey Mahomet's laws; they pray five times a day, and drink no\nwine. But the Persians seldom repeat their prayers, and they do drink\nwine, though Mahomet has forbidden it. In short, the Persian seems to\nhave no idea of right and wrong. The judges do not give right judgment,\nbut take bribes. The soldiers live by robbing the poor people, for the\nking pays them no wages, but leaves them to get food as they can; and so\nthe poor people often build their cottages in little nooks in the\nvalleys, where they hope the soldiers will not see them.\n\nTHE COUNTRY.--Persia is a high country and a dry country. There are high\nmountains and wide plains; but there are very few rivers and running\nbrooks, because there is so little rain. However, in some places the\nPersians have cut canals, and planted willow-trees by their side. Rice\nwill not grow well in such a dry country, but sheep find it very pleasant\nand wholesome. The hills are covered over with flocks, and the shepherds\nmay be seen leading their sheep and carrying the very young lambs in\ntheir arms. This is a sight which reminds us of the good Shepherd: for it\nis written of Jesus, \"He gathered the lambs in his arms.\"\n\nThe sweetest of all flowers grows abundantly in Persia--I mean the rose.\nThe air is filled with its fragrance. The people pluck the rose leaves\nand dry them in the sun, as we dry hay. How pleasant it must be for\nchildren in the spring to play among the heaps of rose-leaves. Once a\ntraveller went to breakfast with a Persian Prince, and he found the\ncompany seated upon a heap of rose-leaves, with a carpet spread over it.\nAfterwards the rose-leaves were sent to the distillers, to be made into\nrose-water.\n\nPersian cats are beautiful creatures, with fur as soft as silk.\n\nThe best melons in the world grow in Persia.\n\nThe three chief materials for making clothes are all to be found there in\nabundance. I mean wool, cotton, and silk. You have heard already of the\nPersian sheep; so you see there is wool. Cotton trees also abound. Women\nand children may be been picking the nuts which contain the little pieces\nof cotton. There are mulberry-trees also to feed the numerous silk worms.\n\nPOOR PEOPLE.--The villages where the poor live are miserable places. The\nhouses are of mud, not placed in rows, but straggling, with dirty narrow\npaths winding between them.\n\nIn summer the poor people sleep on the roofs; for the roofs are flat, and\ncovered with earth, with low walls on every side to prevent the sleepers\nfalling off. Here the Persians spread their carpets to lie upon at night.\n\nWinter does not last long in Persia, yet while it lasts it is cold. Then\nthe poor, instead of sleeping on their roofs, sleep in a very curious\nwarm bed. In the middle of each cottage there is a round hole in the\nfloor, where the fire burns. In the evening the fire goes out, but the\nhot cinders remain. The Persians place over it a low round table, and\nthen throw a large coverlid over the table, and all round about. Under\nthis coverlid the family lie at night, their heads peeping out, and their\nfeet against the warm fire-place underneath. This the Persians call a\ncomfortable bed.\n\nThe poor wear dirty and ragged clothes, and the children may be seen\ncrawling about in the dust, and looking like little pigs. Yet in one\nrespect the Persians are very clean; they bathe often. In every village\nthere is a large bath.\n\nThe poor people have animals of various kinds--a few sheep, or goats, or\ncows. In the day one man takes them all out to feed. In the evening he\nbrings them back to the village, and the animals of their own accord go\nhome to their own stables. Each cow and each sheep knows where she will\nget food and a place to sleep in. The prophet Isaiah said truly, \"The ass\nknoweth his owner, and the ox his master's crib; but Israel doth not\nknow, my people doth not consider.\"\n\nTHE PERSIAN LADIES.--They wrap themselves up in a large dark blue\nwrapper, and in this dress they walk out where they please. No one who\nmeets them can tell who they are.\n\nAnd where do these women go? Chiefly to the bath, where they spend much\nof their time drinking coffee and smoking. There too they try to make\nthemselves handsome by blackening their eyebrows and dyeing their hair.\nSometimes the ladies walk to the burial-grounds, and wander about for\nhours among the graves. When they are at home they employ themselves in\nmaking pillau and sherbet. Pillau is made of rice and butter; sherbet is\nmade of juice mixed with water.\n\nThe ladies have a sitting-room to themselves. One side of it is all\nlattice-work, and this makes it cool. At night they spread their carpets\non the floor to sleep upon, and in the day they keep them in a\nlumber-room.\n\nPERSIAN INNS.--They are very uncomfortable places. There are a great many\nsmall cells made of mud, built all round a large court. These cells are\nquite empty, and paved with stone. The only comfortable room is over the\ndoor-way of the court, and the first travellers who arrive are sure to\nsettle in the room over the door-way.\n\nOnce an English traveller arrived at a Persian inn with his two servants.\nAll three were very ill and in great pain, from having travelled far over\nburning plains and steep mountains.\n\nBut as the room over the door-way was occupied, they were forced to go\ninto a little cold damp cell. As there was no door to the cell, they hung\nup a rag to keep out the chilling night air, and they placed a pan of\ncoals in the midst. Many Persians came and peeped into the cell; and\nseeing the sick men looking miserable as they lay on their carpets, the\nunfeeling creatures laughed at them, and no one would help them or give\nthem anything to eat. The travellers bought some bread and grapes at the\nbazaar, but these were not fit food for sick men, but it was all they\ncould get. At last a Persian merchant heard of their distress; and he\ncame to see them every day, bringing them warm milk and wholesome food:\nwhen they were well enough to be moved, he took them to his own house,\nand nursed them with the greatest care.\n\nWho was this kind merchant? Not a Mahomedan, but of the religion of the\nfire worshippers, or Parsees. Was he not like the good Samaritan of whom\nwe read in the New Testament? O that Bahram, the merchant, might know the\ntrue God!\n\nPILGRIMS AND BEGGARS.--Very often you may see a large company of Pilgrims\nsome on foot, and some mounted on camels, horses, and asses. They are\nreturning from Mecca, the birth-place of Mahomet. What good have they got\nby their pilgrimage? None at all. They think they are grown very holy,\nbut they make such an uproar at the inns by quarrelling and fighting when\nthey are travelling home, that no one can bear to be near them.\n\nThere is a set of beggars called dervishes. They call themselves very\nholy, and think people are bound to give money to such holy men. They are\nso bold that sometimes they refuse to leave a place till some money has\nbeen given.\n\nOnce a dervish stopped a long while before the house of the English\nambassador, and refused to go away. But a plan was thought of to _make_\nhim go away.\n\nThe dervish was sitting in a little niche in the wall. The ambassador\nordered his servants to build up bricks to shut the dervish in. The men\nbegan to build, yet the dervish would not stir, till the bricks came up\nas high as his chin: then he began to be frightened, and said he would\nrather go away.\n\nTHE KING OF PERSIA.--He is called King of Kings. What a name for a man!\nIt is the title of God alone. The king sits on a marble throne, and his\ngarments sparkle with jewels of dazzling brightness. The walls of his\nstate-chamber are covered with looking-glasses. One side of the room\nopens into a court adorned with flowers and fountains. Great part of his\ntime is spent in amusements, such as hunting and shooting, writing\nverses, and hearing stories. He keeps a man called a story-teller, and he\nwill never hear the same story repeated twice. It gives the man a great\ndeal of trouble to find new stories every day. The king keeps jesters,\nwho make jokes; and he has mimics, who play antics to make him laugh. He\ndines at eight in the evening from dishes of pure gold. No one is allowed\nto dine with him; but two of his little boys wait upon him, and his\nphysician stands by to advise him not to eat too much.\n\nDo you think he is happy in all his grandeur? Judge for yourself.\n\nAll his golden dishes come up covered and sealed. Why? For fear of\npoison. There is a chief officer in the kitchen who watches the cook, to\nsee that he puts no poison into the food: and he seals up the dishes\nbefore they are taken to the king, in order that the servants may not put\nin poison as they are carrying them along. In what fear this great king\nlives! He cannot trust his own servants.\n\nTEHERAN.--This is the royal city. It is built in a barren plain, and is\nexceedingly hot, as the hills around keep off the air. It is a mean\ncity, for it is chiefly built of mud huts.\n\nThe king's palace is called the \"Ark,\" and is a very strong as well as\ngrand place.[5]\n\n    [5] Extracted chiefly from Southgate's Travels.\n\n\n\n\nCHINA.\n\n\nThere is no country in the world like China.\n\nHow different it is from Persia, where there are so few people; whereas\nChina is crowded with inhabitants!\n\nHow different it is from England, where the people are instructed in the\nBible, whereas China is full of idols.\n\nChina is a heathen country; yet it is not a savage country, for the\npeople are quiet, and orderly, and industrious.\n\nIt would be hard for a child to imagine what a great multitude of people\nthere are in China.\n\nIf you were to sit by a clock, and if all the Chinese were to pass before\nyou one at a time, and if you were to count one at each tick of the\nclock, and if you were never to leave off counting day or night--how long\ndo you think it would be before you had counted all the Chinese?\n\nTwelve years. O what a vast number of people there must be in China! In\nall, there are about three hundred and sixty millions! If all the people\nin the world were collected together, out of every three one would be a\nChinese. How sad it is to think that this immense nation knows not God,\nnor his glorious Son!\n\nThere are too many people in China, for there is not food enough for them\nall; and many are half-starved.\n\nFOOD.--The poor can get nothing but rice to eat and water to drink;\nexcept now and then they mix a little pork or salt fish with their rice.\nAny sort of meat is thought good; even a hash of rats and snakes, or a\nmince of earth-worms. Cats and dogs' flesh are considered as nice as\npork, and cost as much.\n\nAn Englishman was once dining with a Chinaman, and he wished to know what\nsort of meat was on his plate. But he was not able to speak Chinese. How\nthen could he ask? He thought of a way. Looking first at his plate, and\nthen at the Chinaman, he said, \"Ba-a-a,\" meaning to ask, \"Is this\nmutton?\" The Chinaman understood the question, and immediately replied,\n\"Bow-wow,\" meaning to say, \"It is puppy-dog.\" You will wish to know\nwhether the Englishman went on eating; but I cannot tell you this.\n\nWhile the poor are in want of food, the rich eat a great deal too much. A\nChinese feast in a rich man's house lasts for hours. The servants bring\nin one course after another, till a stranger wonders when the last course\nwill come. The food is served up in a curious way; not on dishes, but in\nsmall basins--for all the meats are swimming in broth. Instead of a knife\nand fork, each person has a pair of chop-sticks, which are something like\nknitting-needles; and with these he cleverly fishes up the floating\nmorsels, and pops them into his mouth. There are spoons of china for\ndrinking the broth.\n\nYou will be surprised to hear that the Chinese are very fond of eating\nbirds' nests. Do not suppose that they eat magpies' nests, which are made\nof clay and sticks, or even little nests of moss and clay; the nests they\neat are made of a sort of gum. This gum comes out of the bird's mouth,\nand is shining and transparent, and the nest sticks fast to the rock.\nThese nests are something like our jelly, and must be very nourishing.\n\nThe Chinese like nothing cold; they warm all their food, even their wine.\nFor they have wine, not made of grapes, but of rice, and they drink it,\nnot in glasses, but in cups. Tea, however, is the most common drink; for\nChina is the country where tea grows.\n\nThe hills are covered with shrubs bearing a white flower, a little like a\nwhite rose. They are tea-plants. The leaves are picked; each leaf is\nrolled up with the finger, and dried on a hot iron plate.\n\nThe Chinese do not keep all the tea-leaves; they pack up a great many in\nboxes, and send them to distant lands. In England and in Russia there is\na tea-kettle in every cottage. Some of the Chinese are so very poor that\nthey cannot buy new tea-leaves, but only tea-leaves which ire sold in\nshops. I do not think in England poor people would buy old tea-leaves.\nSome very poor Chinese use fern-leaves instead of tea-leaves.\n\nThe Chinese do not make tea in the same way that we do. They have no\nteapot, or milk-jug, or sugar-basin. They put a few tea-leaves in a cup,\npour hot water on them, and then put a cover on the cup till the tea is\nready. Whenever you pay a visit in China a cup of tea is offered.\n\nAPPEARANCE.--The Chinese are not at all like the other natives of Asia.\nThe Turks and Arabs are fine-looking men, but the Chinese are\npoor-looking creatures. You have seen their pictures on their boxes of\ntea, for they are fond of drawing pictures of themselves.\n\nTheir complexion is rather yellow, but many of the ladies, who keep in\ndoors, are rather fair. They have black hair, small dark eyes, broad\nfaces, flat noses, and high cheek-bones. In general they are short. The\nmen like to be stout; and the rich men are stout: the fatter they are,\nthe more they are admired: but the women like to be slender.\n\nA Chinaman does not take off his cap in company, and he has a good reason\nfor it: his head is close shaven: only a long piece behind is allowed to\ngrow, and this grows down to his heels, and is plaited. He wears a long\ndark blue gown, with loose hanging sleeves. His shoes are clumsy, turned\nup at the toes in an ugly manner, and the soles are white. The Chinese\nhave more trouble in whitening their shoes than we have in blacking ours.\n\nA Chinese lady wears a loose gown like a Chinaman's; but she may be known\nby her head-dress, her baby feet, and her long nails. Her hair is tied\nup, and decked with artificial flowers; and sometimes a little golden\nbird, sparkling with jewels, adorns her forehead. Her feet are no bigger\nthan those of a child of five years old; because, when she was five, they\nwere cruelly bound up to prevent them from growing. She suffered much\npain all her childhood, and now she trips about as if she were walking on\ntiptoes. A little push would throw her down. As she walks she moves from\nside to side like a ship in the water, for she cannot walk firmly with\nsuch small feet. The Chinese are so foolish as to admire these small\nfeet, and to call them the \"golden lilies\". As for her finger-nails, they\nare seldom seen, for a Chinese lady hides her hands in her long sleeves;\nbut the nails on the left hand are very long, and are like bird's claws.\nThe nails on the right hand are not so long, in order that the lady may\nbe able to tinkle on her music, to embroider, and to weave silk.\n\nThe gentlemen are proud of having one long nail on the little finger, to\nshow that they do not labor like the poor, for if they did, the nail\nwould break. Men in China wear necklaces and use fans.\n\nWhat foolish customs I have described. Surely you will not think the\nChinese a wise people, though very _clever_, as you will soon find.\n\nMen and women dress in black, or in dark colors, such as blue and purple;\nthe women sometimes dress in pink or green. Great people dress in red,\nand the royal family in yellow. When you see a person all in white, you\nmay know he is in mourning. A son dresses in white for three years after\nhe has lost one of his parents.\n\nHOUSES.--See that lantern hanging over the gate. The light is rather dim,\nbecause the sides are made of silk instead of glass. What is written upon\nthe lantern? The master's name. The gateway leads into a court into\nwhich many rooms open. There are not doors to all the rooms; to some\nthere are only curtains. Curtains are used instead of doors in many hot\ncountries, because of their coolness; but the furniture of the Chinese\nrooms is quite different from the furniture of Turkish and Persian rooms.\nThe Chinese sit on chairs as we do, and have high tables like ours: and\nthey sleep on bedsteads, yet their beds are not like ours, for instead of\na mattrass there is nothing but a mat.\n\nInstead of pictures, the Chinese adorn their rooms with painted lanterns,\nand with pieces of white satin, on which sentences are written: they have\nalso book-cases and china jars. But they have no fire-places, for they\nnever need a fire to keep themselves warm: the sun shining in at the\nsouth windows makes the rooms tolerably warm in winter; and in summer the\nweather is very hot. The Chinese in winter put on one coat over the other\ntill they feel warm enough. In the north of China it is so cold in winter\nthat the place where the bed stands (which is a recess in the wall) is\nheated by a furnace underneath, and the whole family sit there all day\ncrowded together.\n\nThe Chinese houses have not so many stories as ours; in the towns there\nis one floor above the ground floor, but in the country there are no\nrooms up stairs.\n\nIt would amuse you to see a Chinese country house. There is not one large\nhouse, but a number of small buildings like summer-houses, and long\ngalleries running from one to another. One of these summer-houses is in\nthe middle of a pond, with a bridge leading to it. In the pond there are\ngold and silver fish; for these beautiful fishes often kept in glass\nbowls in England, came first from China. By the sides of the garden walls\nlarge cages are placed; in one may be seen some gold and silver\npheasants, in another a splendid peacock; in another a gentle stork, and\nin another an elegant little deer. There is often a grove of\nmulberry-trees in the garden, and in the midst of the grove houses made\nof bamboo, for rearing silk-worms. It is the delight of the ladies to\nfeed these curious worms. None but very quiet people are fit to take care\nof them, for a loud noise would kill them. Gold and silver fish also\ncannot bear much noise.\n\nIn every large house in China there is a room called the Hall of\nAncestors. There the family worship their dead parents and grand-parents,\nand great-grand-parents, and those who lived still further back. There\nare no images to be seen in the Hall of Ancestors, but there are tablets\nwith names written upon them. The family bow down before the tablets, and\nburn incense and gold paper! What a foolish service! What good can\nincense and paper do to the dead? And what good can the dead do to their\nchildren? How is it that such clever people as the Chinese are so\nfoolish?\n\nRELIGION.--You have heard already that the Chinese worship the dead.\n\nWho taught them this worship?\n\nIt was a man named Confucius, who lived a long while ago. This Confucius\nwas a very wise man. From his childhood he was very fond of sitting alone\nthinking, instead of playing with other children. When he was fourteen he\nbegan to read some old books that had been written not long after the\ntime of Noah. In these books he found very many wise sentences, such as\nNoah may have taught his children. The Chinese had left off reading these\nwise books, and were growing more and more foolish.[6] Confucius, when he\nwas grown up, tried to persuade his countrymen to attend to the old\nbooks. There were a few men who became his scholars, and who followed him\nabout from place to place. They might be seen sitting under a tree,\nlistening to the words of Confucius.\n\nConfucius was a very tall man with a long black beard and a very high\nforehead.\n\nHad he known the true God, how much good he might have done to the\nChinese; but as it was he only tried to make them happy in this world. He\nhimself confessed that he knew nothing about the other world. He gave\nvery good advice about respect due to parents; but he gave very bad\nadvice about worship due to them after they were dead.\n\nWas he a good man? Not truly good; for he did not love God; neither did\nhe act right: for he was very unkind to his wife, and quite cast her off.\nYet he used to talk of going to other countries to teach the people. It\nwould have been a happy thing for him, if he had gone as far as Babylon;\nfor a truly wise man lived there, even Daniel the prophet. From him he\nmight have learned about the promised Saviour, and life everlasting. But\nConfucius never left China.\n\nHe was ill-treated by many of the rich and great, and he was so poor that\nrice was generally his only food. When he was dying he felt very unhappy,\nas well he might, when he knew not where he was going. He said to his\nfollowers just before his death, \"The kings refuse to follow my advice;\nand since I am of no use on earth, it is best that I should leave it.\" As\nsoon as he was dead, people began to respect him highly, and even to\nworship him. At this day, though Confucius died more than two thousand\nyears ago, there is a temple to his honor in every large city, and\nnumbers of beasts are offered up to him in sacrifice. There are thousands\nof people descended from him, and they are treated with great honor as\nthe children of Confucius, and one of them is called kong or duke.\n\nThere is another religion in China besides the religion of Confucius, and\na much worse religion. About the same time that Confucius lived, there\nwas a man called La-on-tzee. He was a great deceiver, as you will see. He\npretended that he could make people completely happy. There were three\nthings he said he would do for them: first, he would make them rich by\nturning stone into gold; next, he would prevent their being hurt by\nswords or by fire through charms he could give them; and, last of all,\nhe could save them from death by a drink he knew how to prepare.\n\n[Illustration: THE PRIESTS OF LA-ON-TZEE.]\n\nWhat an awful liar this man must have been! Yet many people believed in\nhim, and still believe in him. There are now priests of La-on-tzee, and\nonce a year they rush through hot cinders and pretend they are not hurt.\nYou will wonder their tricks are not found out, seeing they cannot give\nany one the drink to keep them from dying. It is indeed wonderful that\nany one can believe these deceitful priests.\n\nTheir religion is called the \"_Taou_\" sect. Taou means reason. The name\nof folly would be a better title for such a religion.\n\nThere is a _third_ religion in China. It is the sect of Buddha.[7] This\nBuddha was a man who once pretended to be turned into a god called Fo.\nYou see he was even worse than La-on-tzee.\n\nBuddha pretended that he could make people happy; and his way of doing so\nwas very strange. He told them to think of nothing, and then they would\nbe happy. It is said that one man fixed his eyes for nine years upon a\nwall without looking off, hoping to grow happy at last. You can guess\nwhether he did. There are many priests of Buddha, always busy in telling\nlies to the people. They recommend them to repeat the name of Buddha\nthousands and thousands of times, and some people are so foolish as to do\nthis; but no one ever found any comfort from this plan.\n\nThe priests of Buddha say that their souls, when they leave their bodies,\ngo into other bodies. This idea is enough to make a dying person very\nmiserable. One poor man, when he was dying, was in terror because he had\nbeen told his soul would go into one of the emperor's horses. Whenever\nhe was dropping off to sleep, he started up in a fright, fancying that he\nfelt the blows of a cruel driver hurrying him along: for he knew how very\nfast the emperor's horses were made to go. How different are the\nfeelings of a dying man who knows he is going to Jesus.\n\nHe can say with joy,--\n\n    \"For me my elder brethren stay,\n    And angels beckon me away,\n    And Jesus bids me come.\"\n\nThe Buddhists are full of tricks by which to get presents out of the\npeople.\n\nOnce a year they cause a great feast to be made, and for whom? For the\npoor? No. For beasts? No. For children? No. For themselves? No. You will\nnever guess. For ghosts! The priests declare that the souls of the dead\nare very hungry, and that it is right to give them a feast. A number of\ntables are set out, spread with all kinds of dishes. No one is seen to\neat, nor is any of the food eaten; but the priests say the ghosts eat the\nspirit of the food. When it is supposed the ghosts have finished dinner,\nthe people scramble for the food, and take it home, and no doubt the\npriests get their share.\n\nThe dead are supplied with money as well as with food, and that is done\nby burning gilt paper; clothes are sent to them by cutting out paper in\nthe shape of clothes, (only much smaller,) and by burning the article;\nand even houses are conveyed to the dead by making baby-houses and\nburning them.\n\nAs an instance of the deceits of the priests, I will tell you of two\npriests who once stood crying over a pour woman's gate. \"What is the\nmatter?\" inquired the woman. \"Do you see those ducks?\" the priests\nreplied; \"our parents' souls are in them, and we are afraid lest you\nshould eat them for supper.\" The foolish woman out of pity gave the ducks\nto the cunning priests, who promised to take great care of the precious\nbirds; but, in fact, they ate them for their own supper.\n\nThe Buddhist priests may be known by their heads close shaven, and their\nblack dress. The priests of Taou have their hair in a knot at the top of\ntheir heads and they wear scarlet robes. There are no priests of\nConfucius; and this is a good thing.\n\nAll the religions of China are bad, but of the three the religion of\nConfucius is the least foolish.\n\nThere can be no doubt which of the three religions of China is the least\nabsurd.\n\nThe religion of Taou teaches men to act like mad-men.\n\nThe religion of Buddha teaches them to act like idiots.\n\nThe religion of Confucius teaches them to act like wise men, but without\nsouls.\n\nTHE EMPEROR.--There is no emperor in the world who has as many subjects\nas the Emperor of China: he has six times as many as the Emperor of\nRussia.\n\nNeither is it possible for any man to be more honored than this emperor;\nfor he is worshipped by his people like a god. He is called \"The Son of\nHeaven,\" and \"Ten Thousand Years;\" yet he dies like every other child of\nearth. His sign is the dragon, and this is painted on his flags, a fit\nsign for one who, like Satan, makes himself a god.\n\nYet the emperor is also styled \"Father of his people,\" and to show that\nhe feels like a father, when there is a famine or plague in the land, he\nshuts himself up in his palace to grieve for his people; and by this\nmeans he gets the love of his subjects.\n\nOnce a year, too, this great emperor tries to encourage his people to be\nindustrious by ploughing part of a field and sowing a little corn; and\nthe empress sets an example to the women, by going once a year to feed\nsilk worms and to wind the balls of silk.\n\nThe emperor wears a yellow dress, and all his relations wear yellow\ngirdles.\n\nBut the relations of the emperor are not the most honorable people in the\nland: the most learned are the most honorable. Every one in China who\nwishes to be a great lord studies day and night. One man, that he might\nnot fall asleep over his books, tied his long plaited tail of hair to\nthe ceiling, and when his head nodded, his hair was pulled tight, and\nthat woke him.\n\nBut what is it the Chinese learn with so much pains?\n\nChiefly the books of Confucius, and a few more; but in none of them is\nGod made known: so that, with all his wisdom, the Chinaman is foolish\nstill. The words of the Bible are true.\n\n\"The world by wisdom knew not God.\" Yet to know God is better than to\nknow all beside.\n\nThere is a great hall in every town where all the men who wish to be\ncounted learned meet together once a year. They are desired to write, and\nthen to show what they have written; and then those who have written\nwell, and without a mistake, have an honorable title given to them; and\nthey are allowed to write another year in another greater hall; and at\nlast the most learned are made mandarins.\n\nWhat is a mandarin? He is a ruler over a town, and is counted a great\nman. The most learned of the mandarins are made the emperor's\ncounsellors. There are only three of them, and they are the greatest men\nin all China, next to the emperor.\n\nThere are many poor men who study hard in hopes to be one of these three.\n\nThis is the greatest honor a Chinaman can obtain. But a Christian can\nobtain a far greater, even the honor of a crown and a throne in the\npresence of the Lord Jesus Christ at his coming.\n\nThe mandarins are all of the religion of Confucius, and despise the poor\nwho worship Buddha.\n\nANIMALS AND TREES.--Once there were lions in China, but they have all\nbeen killed; there are still bears and tigers in the mountains and\nforests on the borders of the land.\n\nThere are small wild-cats, which are caught and fastened in cages, and\nthen killed and cooked. There are tame cats, too, with soft hair and\nhanging ears, which are kept by ladies as pets.\n\nThere are dogs to guard the house, and they too are eaten; but as they\nare fed on rice only, their flesh is better than the flesh of our dogs.\nThe dogs are so sensible that they know when the butcher is carrying away\na dog that he is going to kill him, and the poor creatures come round him\nhowling, as if begging for their brother's life.\n\nThe pig is the Chinaman's chief dish; for it can be fed on all the refuse\nfood, and there is very little food to spare in China.\n\nThere are not many birds in China, because there is no room for trees.\nOnly one bird sings, and she builds her nest on the ground; it is a bird\noften heard singing in England floating in the air,--I mean the lark.\n\nIn most parts of China men carry all the burdens, and not horses and\nasses.\n\nA gentleman is carried in a chair by two men: and a mandarin by four. Yet\nthe emperor rides on horseback.\n\n\nTHE THREE GREAT CITIES\n\n    Pekin on the north.\n    Nankin in the middle.\n    Canton on the south.\n\n    Pekin is the grandest.\n    Nankin is the most learned.\n    Canton is the richest.\n\nAt Pekin is the emperor's palace. The gardens are exceedingly large, and\ncontain hills, and lakes, and groves within the walls, besides houses for\nthe emperor's relations.\n\nAt Nankin is the China tower. It is made of China bricks, and contains\nnine rooms one over the other. It is two hundred feet high, a wonderful\nheight.\n\nOf what use is it? Of none--of worse than none. It is a temple for\nBuddha, and is full of his images.\n\nAt Canton there are so many people that there is not room for all in the\nland; so thousands live on the water in bouts. Many have never slept a\nsingle night on the shore. The children often fall overboard, but as a\nhollow gourd is tied round each child's neck, they float, and are soon\npicked up.\n\nFor a long while the Chinese would not allow foreigners to come into\ntheir cities. A great many foreign ships came to Canton to buy tea and\nsilk; but the traders were forbidden to enter the town, and they lived in\na little island near, and built a town there called Macao.\n\nBut lately the Chinese emperor has agreed to permit strangers to come to\nfive ports, called Shang-hae, Ning-po, Foo-choo, Amoy, and Hong-Kong.\n\nThis last port, Hong-Kong, is an island near Canton, and the English have\nbuilt a city there and called it Victoria.\n\nTHE TWO RIVERS.--There is one called Yeang-te-sang, or \"the Son of the\nOcean.\" It is the largest in Asia.\n\nThe other is the Yellow River, for the soft clay mixed with the water\ngives it a yellow color.\n\nLAKES.--There are immense lakes, covered with boats and fishermen.\n\nBut the best fishers are the tame cormorants, who catch fish for their\nmasters.\n\nTHE TWO GREAT WONDERS.--The great CANAL is wonder. It joins the two\nrivers; so that a Chinese can go by water from Canton to Pekin.\n\nThe great WALL is a greater wonder, but not nearly as useful as the\ncanal.\n\nThis wall was built at the north of China to keep the Tartars out. It is\none thousand five hundred miles long, twenty feet high, and twenty-five\nbroad. But there were not soldiers enough in China to keep the enemies\nout, and the Tartars came over the wall.\n\nThe Emperor of China is a Tartar.\n\nThe Empress does not have small feet, like the Chinese.\n\nIt is the Tartars who forced the Chinese to shave their heads, for they\nused to tie up their hair in a knot at the top of their heads. Many of\nthe Chinese preferred losing their heads to their hair. Was it not cruel\nto cut off their heads, merely because they would not shave them? But the\nTartars were very cruel to the Chinese.\n\nKNOWLEDGE AND INVENTIONS.--We must allow that the Chinese are very\nclever. They found out how to print, and they found out how to make\ngunpowder, and they found out the use of the loadstone. What is that? A\npiece of steel rubbed against the loadstone will always point to the\nnorth. The Chinese found out these three things, printing, gunpowder,\nand the use of the loadstone, before we in Europe found them out. But\nthey did not teach them to us; we found them out ourselves.\n\nBut there are two arts that the Chinese did teach us: how to make silk,\nand how to make china or porcelain. And yet I should not say they taught\nus; for they tried to prevent our learning their arts; but we saw their\nsilk and their porcelain, and by degrees we learned to make them\nourselves. A sly monk brought some silk-worm's eggs from China hidden in\na hollow walking-stick.\n\nLANGUAGE.--There is no other language at all like the Chinese. Instead of\nhaving letters to spell words, they have a picture for each word. I call\nit a picture, but it is more like a figure than a picture. The Chinese\nuse brushes for writing instead of pens; and they rub cakes of ink on a\nlittle marble dish, first dipping them in a little water, as we dip cakes\nof paint. There is a hollow place in the marble dish, to hold the water.\nWhat do you think the Chinese mean by \"the four precious things?\" They\nmean the ink, the brush, the marble dish, and the water. They call them\nprecious because they are so fond of writing. Schoolmasters are held in\ngreat honor in China, as indeed they ought to be everywhere. Yet schools\nin China are much like those in Turkey, more fit for parrots than\nchildren; only Chinese boys sit in chairs with desks before them, instead\nof sitting cross-legged on the ground, as in Turkey. They learn first to\npaint the words, and next to repeat lessons by heart. This they do in a\nloud scream; always turning their backs to their masters while they are\nsaying their lessons to him.\n\nThe first book which children read is full of stories, with a picture on\neach page. Would you like to hear one of these stories?\n\n\"There was a boy of eight years old, named Um-wen. His parents were so\npoor that they could not afford to buy a gauze curtain for their bed, to\nkeep off the flies in summer. This boy could not bear that his parents\nshould be bitten by the flies; so he stood by their bedside, and\nuncovered his little bosom and his back that the flies might bite him,\ninstead of his parents. 'For,' said he, 'if they fill themselves with my\nblood, they will let my parents rest.'\"\n\nWould it be right for a little boy to behave in this way? Certainly not;\nfor it would grieve kind parents that their little boys should be bitten.\nPoor little Chinese boys! They do not know about Him who was bitten by\nthe old serpent that we might not be devoured and destroyed.\n\nPUNISHMENT.--The Chinese are very quiet and orderly; and no wonder,\nbecause they are afraid of the great bamboo stick.\n\nThe mandarins (or rulers of towns) often sentence offenders to lie upon\nthe ground, and to have thirty strokes of the bamboo. But the wooden\ncollar is worse than the bamboo stick. It is a great piece of wood with a\nhole for a man to put his head through. The men in wooden collars are\nbrought out of their prisons every morning, and chained to a wall, where\neverybody passing by can see them. They cannot feed themselves in their\nwooden collars, because they cannot bring their hands to their mouths;\nbut sometimes a son may be seen feeding his father, as he stands chained\nto the wall. There are men also whose business it is to feed the\nprisoners. For great crimes men are strangled or beheaded.\n\nCHARACTER.--A Chinaman's character cannot be known at first. You might\nsuppose from his way of speaking that a Chinaman was very humble; because\nhe calls himself \"the worthless fellow,\" or \"the stupid one,\" and he\ncalls his son \"the son of a dog;\" but if you were to tell him he had an\nevil heart, he would be very much offended; for he only gives himself\nthese names Thai he may _seem_ humble. He calls his acquaintance\n\"venerable uncle,\" \"honorable brother.\" This he does to please them. The\nChinese are very proud of their country, and think there is none like it.\nThey have given it the name of the \"Heavenly or Celestial Empire.\" They\nlook upon foreigners as monkeys and devils. Often a woman may he heard in\nthe streets saying to her little child, \"There is a foreign devil (or a\nFan Quei\"). The Chinese think the English very ugly, and called them the\n\"red-haired nation.\"\n\nIt must be owned that the Chinese are industrious: indeed, if they were\nnot, they would be starved. A poor man often has to work all day up to\nthe knees in water in the rice-field, and yet gets nothing for supper but\na little rice and a few potatoes.\n\nThe ladies who can live without working are very idle, and in the winter\nrise very late in the morning.\n\nMen, too, play, as children do here; flying kites is a favorite game.\nDancing, however, is quite unknown.\n\nThe Chinese are very selfish and unfeeling. Beggars may be seen in the\nmiddle of the town dying, and no one caring for them, but people gambling\nclose by.\n\nThe Chinese have an idea that after a man is dead the house must be\ncleansed from ghosts; so to save themselves this trouble, poor people\noften cast their dying relations out of their hovels into the street to\ndie!\n\nBut in general sons treat their parents with great respect. They often\nkeep their father's coffin in the house for three months, and a son has\nbeen known to sleep by it for three years. Relations are usually kind to\neach other, because they meet together in the \"Hall of Ancestors\" to\nworship the same persons. To save money they often live together, and a\nhundred eat at the same table.\n\nThe Chinese used to be temperate, preferring tea to wine. There are\ntea-taverns in the towns. How much better than our beer-shops! But lately\nthey have begun to smoke opium. This is the juice of the white poppy,\nmade up into dark balls. The Chinese are not allowed to have it; but the\nEnglish, sad to say, sell it to them secretly. There are many opium\ntaverns in China, where men may be seen lying on cushions snuffing up the\nhot opium, and puffing it out of their mouths. Those who smoke opium have\nsunken cheeks and trembling hands, and soon become old, foolish, and\nsick. Why, then, do they take opium? Many of them say they wish to leave\nit off, but cannot.\n\nMISSIONARIES.--Are there any in China? Yes, many; and more are going\nthere. But how many are wanted for so many people! Missionaries travel\nabout China to distribute Bibles and tracts. One of them hired a rough\nkind of chair with two bearers. In this he went to villages among the\nmountains, where a white man had never been seen. The children screaming\nwith terror ran to their mothers. The men came round him to look at his\nclothes and his white skin. They were much surprised at the whiteness of\nhis hands, and they put their yellow ones close to his to see the\ndifference. These mountaineers were kind, and brought tea and cakes to\nrefresh the stranger.\n\nAn English lady went to China to teach little girls; for no one teaches\nthem. She has several little creatures in her school that she saved from\nperishing: because the Chinese are so cruel as to leave many girl-babies\nto die in the streets; they say that girls are not worth the trouble of\nbringing up.\n\nOne cold rainy evening, Miss Aldersey heard a low wailing outside the\nstreet-door, and looking out she saw a poor babe, wrapped in coarse\nmatting, lying on the stone pavement. She could not bear to leave it\nthere to be devoured by famished dogs; so she kindly took it in, and\nbrought it up.\n\nIt is a common thing to stumble over the bodies of dead babies in the\nstreets. In England it is counted murder to kill a babe, but it is\nthought no harm in China. Yet the Chinese call themselves good. But when\nyou ask a poor man where he expects to go when he dies, he replies, \"To\nhell of course;\" and he says this with a loud laugh. His reason for\nthinking he shall go to hell is, because he has not money enough to give\nto the gods; for rich people all expect to go to heaven. Mandarins\nespecially expect to go there. If they were to read the Bible, they would\nsee that God will punish kings, and mighty men, and great captains, and\n_all_ who are wicked.\n\n    [6] These are some of the sentences written in the old books:\n\n        \"Never say, There is no one who sees me, for there is a wise\n        Spirit who sees all.\"\n\n        \"Man no longer has what he had before the fall, and he has\n        brought his children into his misery. O! Heaven, you only can\n        help us. Wipe away the stains of the father, and save his\n        children.\"\n\n        \"Never speak but with great care. Do not say, It is only a single\n        word. Remember that no one has the keeping of your heart and\n        tongue but you.\"\n\n        These sentences are like some verses in the Psalms and Proverbs;\n        and, it may be, they were spoken first by some holy men of old.\n\n        Here is one more remarkable than all:--\n\n        \"God hates the proud, and is kind to the humble.\"\n\n    [7] The means by which the Buddhist religion entered China are\n        remarkable. A certain Chinese emperor once read in the book of\n        Confucius this sentence, \"The true saint will be found in the\n        West.\" He thought a great deal about it; at last he dreamed about\n        it. He was so much struck by his dream that he sent two of his\n        great lords to look for the true religion in the West. When they\n        reached India, they found multitudes worshipping Buddha. This\n        Buddha was a wicked man who had been born in India a thousand\n        years before. The Chinese messengers believed all the absurd\n        histories they heard about Buddha, and they returned to China\n        with a book which had been written about him. Ah! had they gone\n        as far as Canaan they might have heard Paul and Peter preaching\n        the Gospel. Alas! why did they go no further, and why did they go\n        so far, only to return to China with idols!\n\n\n\n\nCOCHIN CHINA.\n\n\nAny one on hearing this name would guess that the country was like China;\nand so it is. If you were to go there you would be reminded of China by\nmany of the customs. You would see at dinner small basins instead of\nplates, chop-sticks instead of knives and forks; you would have rice to\neat instead of bread; and rice wine to drink instead of grape wine.\n\nBut you would not find _all_ the Chinese customs in Cochin-China: for you\nwould see the women walking about at liberty, and with large feet, that\nis, with feet of the natural size, and not cramped up like the \"golden\nlilies\" of China. Neither would you see the people treated as strictly in\nCochin-China as in China. Beatings are not nearly as common there, and\nbehavior is not nearly as good as in China.\n\nThe people are very different from the Chinese; for they are gay and\ntalkative, and open and sociable, while the Chinese are just the\ncontrary. However, they resemble the Chinese in fondness for eating. They\nare very fond of giving grand dinners, and sometimes provide a hundred\ndishes, and invite a hundred guests. A man is thought very generous who\ngives such grand dinners. No one in Cochin-China would think of eating\nhis morsel alone, but every one asks those around to partake; and if any\none were not to do so, he would be counted very mean. Yet the people of\nCochin-China are always begging for gifts; and if they cannot get the\nthings they ask for, they steal them. Are they generous? No, because they\nare covetous. It is impossible to be at the same time generous and\ncovetous; for what goodness is there in giving away our own things, if we\nare wishing for other people's things?\n\nAnd now let us leave the _people_ and look at the _land_. It is fruitful\nand beautiful, being watered abundantly by fine rivers: but these rivers,\nflowing among lofty mountains, often overflow, and drown men and cattle.\nThe grass of such a country must be very rich; and there are cows feeding\non it; yet there is no milk or butter to be had. Why? Because the people\nhave a foolish idea that it is wrong to milk cows.\n\nIn no country are there stronger and larger elephants; so strong and so\nlarge that one can carry thirteen persons on his back at once.\n\nThe land is full of idols: for Buddha or Fo is worshipped in\nCochin-China, as he is in China.\n\nThe idols are sometimes kept in high trees, and priests may be seen\nmounting ladders to present offerings.\n\nBut the people are not satisfied with idols in trees; they have pocket\nidols, which they carry about with them everywhere.\n\n\nTONQUIN.--CAMBODIA.\n\nThese two kingdoms belong to the king of Cochin-China; yet all three,\nTonquin, Cambodia, and Cochin-China, pay tribute to China, and therefore\nthey must be considered as conquered countries.\n\nThey are all very much like China in their customs. There are large\ncities in them all, and multitudes of people, but very little is known\nabout them in England.\n\n\n\n\nHINDOSTAN.\n\n\nThis word Hindostan means \"black place,\" for in the Persian language\n\"hind\" is \"black,\" and \"stan\" is \"place.\" You may guess, therefore, that\nthe people in Hindostan are very dark; yet they are not quite black, and\nsome of the ladies are only of a light brown complexion.\n\nWhat a large country Hindostan is! Has it an emperor of its own, as China\nhas? No: large as it is, it belongs to the little country called England.\n\nHow did the English get it?\n\nThey conquered it by little and little. When first they came there, they\nfound there a Mahomedan people, called the Moguls. These Moguls had\nconquered Hindostan: but by degrees the English conquered them, and\nbecame masters of all the land.\n\nThere is only one small country among the mountains which has not been\nconquered by the English, and that place is Nepaul. It is near the\nHimalaya mountains. See that great chain of mountains in the north: they\nare the Himalaya--the highest mountains in the world. The word \"him,\" or\n\"hem,\" means snow--and snowy indeed are those mountains.\n\nThere is a great river that flows from the Himalaya called the Ganges. It\nflows by many mouths into the ocean; yet of all these mouths only one is\ndeep enough for large ships to sail in; the other mouths are all choked\nup with sand. The deep mouth of the Ganges is called the Hoogley.\n\nIt was on the banks of the Hoogley that the first English city was built.\nIt was built by some English merchants, and is called Calcutta. That name\ncomes from the name of a horrible idol called Kalee, of which more will\nbe said hereafter.\n\nCalcutta is now a very grand city; there is the governor's palace, and\nthere are the mansions of many rich Englishmen. It has been called \"the\ncity of palaces.\"\n\nThere is another great river on the other side of Hindostan called the\nIndus. It was from that river that Hindostan got the name of India, or\nthe East Indies.\n\nVILLAGES.--Calcutta is built on a large plain called Bengal. Dotted about\nthis plain are many villages. At a distance they look prettier than\nEnglish villages, for they are overshadowed with thick trees; but they\nare wretched places to live in. The huts are scarcely big enough to hold\nhuman creatures, nor strong enough to bear the pelting of the storm. When\nyou enter them you will find neither floor nor window, and very little\nfurniture; neither chair, nor table, nor bed--nothing but a large earthen\nbottle for fetching water, a smaller one for drinking, a basket for\nclothes, a few earthen pans, a few brass plates, and a mat.\n\nA Hindoo is counted very rich who has procured a wooden bedstead to place\nhis mat upon, and a wooden trunk, with a lock and key, to contain his\nclothes; such a man is considered to have a well-furnished house.\n\nAs you pass through the villages, you may see groups of men sitting under\nthe trees smoking their pipes, while children, without clothes, are\nrolling in the dust, and sporting with the kids. Prowling about the\nvillages are hungry dogs and whining jackalls, seeking for bones and\noffal; but the children are too much used to these creatures to be afraid\nof them. Hovering in the air are crows and kites, ready to secure any\nmorsel they can see, or even to snatch the food, if they can, out of the\nchildren's little hands.\n\nWhat a confused noise do you hear as you pass along! barking, whining,\nand squalling, loud laughing, and incessant chattering. It is a heathen\nvillage, and the sweet notes of praise to God are never sung there.\n\nYet in every village there is a little temple with an idol, and a priest\nto take the idol, to lay it down to sleep, and to offer it food, which he\neats himself.\n\nThe poor people bring the food for the idol with flowers, and place it at\nthe door of the temple.\n\nAPPEARANCE.--The Hindoos are pleasing in their appearance, for their\nfeatures are well-formed, their teeth are white, and their eyes have a\nsoft expression. The women take much pains to dress their long black\nhair, which is soft as silk: they gather it up in a knot at their heads,\nand crown it with flowers. They have no occasion for a needle to make\ntheir dresses, as they are all in one piece. They wind a long strip of\nwhite muslin (called a saree) round their bodies, and fold it over their\nheads like a veil, and then they are full dressed, except their\nornaments, and with these they load themselves; glass rings of different\ncolors on their arms, silver rings on their fingers and toes, and gold\nrings in their ears, and a gold ring in their nose.\n\nThe men wear a long strip of calico twisted closely round their bodies,\nand another thrown loosely over their shoulders; but this last they cast\noff when they are at work: it is their upper garment. On their heads they\nwear turbans, and on their feet sandals. The clothes of both men and\nwomen are generally white or pink, or white bordered with red.\n\nFOOD.--The most common food is rice; and with this curry is often mixed\nto give it a relish. What is curry? It is a mixture of herbs, spices, and\noil.\n\nVery poor people cannot afford to eat either rice or curry; and they eat\nsome coarse grain instead. A lady who made a feast for the poor provided\nnothing but rice, and she found that it was thought as good as roast\nbeef and plum pudding are thought in England. The day after the feast\nsome of the poor creatures came to pick up the grains of rice that were\nfallen upon the ground.\n\nThe rich Hindoos eat mutton and venison, but not beef; this they think it\nwicked to eat, because they worship bulls and cows.\n\nA favorite food is clarified butter, called \"ghee,\" white rancid stuff,\nkept in skin bottles to mix with curry.\n\nWater is the general drink, and there could not be a better. Yet there\nare intoxicating drinks, and some of the Hindoos have learned to love\nthem, from seeing the English drink too much. What a sad thing that\nChristians should set a bad example to heathens!\n\nPRODUCTIONS.--There are many beautiful trees in India never seen in\nEngland, and many nice fruits never tasted here.\n\nThe palm-tree, with its immense leaves, is the glory of India. These\nleaves are very useful; they form the roof, the umbrella, the bed, the\nplate, and the writing-paper of the Hindoo.\n\nThe most curious tree in India is the banyan, because one tree grows into\na hundred. How is that? The branches hang down, touch the ground, strike\nroot there, and spring up into new trees--joined to the old. Under an\naged banyan there is shade for a large congregation. Seventy thousand men\nmight sit beneath its boughs.\n\nThere is a sort of grass which grows a hundred feet high, and becomes\nhard like wood. It is called the bamboo. The stem is hollow like a pipe,\nand is often used as a water-pipe. It serves also for posts for houses,\nand for poles for carriages.\n\nThere are abundance of nice fruits in India; and of these the mangoe is\nthe best. You might mistake it for a pear when you saw it, but not when\nyou tasted it. Pears cannot grow in India; the sun is too hot for grapes\nand oranges, excepting on the hills.\n\nThe chief productions of India are rice and cotton; rice is the food, and\ncotton is the clothing of the Hindoo: and quantities of these are sent to\nEngland, for though we have wheat for food, we want rice too; and though\nwe have wool for clothing, we want cotton too.\n\nRELIGION.--There is no nation that has so many gods as the Hindoos. What\ndo you think of three hundred and thirty millions! There are not so many\npeople in Hindostan as that. No one person can know the names of all\nthese gods; and who would wish to know them? Some of them are snakes, and\nsome are monkeys!\n\nThe chief god of all is called Brahm. But, strange to say, no one\nworships him. There is not an image of him in all India.\n\nAnd why not? Because he is too great, the Hindoos say, to think of men on\nearth. He is always in a kind of sleep. What would be the use of\nworshipping him?\n\nNext to him are three gods, and they are part of Brahm.\n\nTheir names are--\n\n    I.   Brahma, the Creator.\n    II.  Vishnoo, the Preserver.\n    III. Sheeva, the Destroyer.\n\nWhich of these should you think men ought to worship the most? Not the\ndestroyer. Yet it is _him_ they do worship the most. Very few worship\nBrahma the creator. And why not? Because the Hindoos think he can do no\nmore for them than he has done; and they do not care about thanking him.\n\nVishnoo, the preserver, is a great favorite; because it is supposed that\nhe bestows all manner of gifts. The Hindoos say he has been _nine_ times\nupon the earth; first as a fish, then as a tortoise, a man, a lion, a\nboar, a dwarf, a giant; _twice_ as a warrior, named Ram, and once as a\nthief, named Krishna. They say he will come again as a conquering king,\nriding on a white horse. Is it not wonderful they should say that? It\nreminds one of the prophecy in Rev. xix. about Christ's second coming.\nDid the Hindoos hear that prophecy in old time? They may have heard it,\nfor the apostle Thomas once preached in India, at least we believe he\ndid.\n\nWhy do the people worship Sheeva the destroyer? Because they hope that if\nthey gain his favor, they shall not be destroyed by him. They do not know\nthat none can save from the destroyer but God.\n\nThe Hindoos make images of their gods. Brahma is represented as riding on\na goose; Vishnoo on a creature half-bird and half-man; and Sheeva on a\nbull.\n\nSheeva's image looks horribly ferocious with the tiger-skin and the\nnecklace of skulls and snakes; but Sheeva's _wife_ is far fiercer than\nhimself. Her name is Kalee. Her whole delight is said to be in blood.\nThose who wish to please her, offer up the blood of beasts; but those who\nwish to please her still more, offer up their own blood.\n\n[Illustration: THE SWING.]\n\nHer great temple, called Kalee Ghaut, is near Calcutta. There is a great\nfeast in her honor once a year at that temple. Early in the morning\ncrowds assemble there with the noise of trumpets and kettle-drums. See\nthose wild fierce men adorned with flowers. They go towards the temple. A\nblacksmith is ready. Lo! one puts out his tongue, and the blacksmith\ncuts it: that is to please Kalee: another chooses rather to have an iron\nbar run through his tongue. Some thrust iron bars and burning coals into\ntheir sides. The boldest mount a wooden scaffold and throw themselves\ndown upon iron spikes beneath, stuck in bags of sand. It is very painful\nto fall upon these spikes; but there is another way of torture quite as\npainful--it is the swing. Those who determine to swing, allow the\nblacksmith to drive hooks into the flesh upon their backs, and hanging by\nthese hooks they swing in the air for ten minutes, or even for half an\nhour. And WHO all these cruel tortures? To please Kalee, and to make the\npeople wonder and admire, for the multitude around shout with joy as they\nbehold these horrible deeds.\n\nTHE CASTES.--The Hindoos pretend that when Brahma created men, he made\nsome out of his mouth, some out of his arms, some out of his breast, and\nsome out of his foot. They say the priests came out of Brahma's mouth,\nthe soldiers came out of his arm, the merchants came out of his breast,\nthe laborers came out of his foot. You may easily guess who invented this\nhistory. It was the priests themselves: it was they who wrote the sacred\nbooks where this history is found.\n\nThe priests are very proud of their high birth, and they call themselves\nBrahmins.\n\nThe laborers, who are told they come out of Brahma's foot, are much\nashamed of their low birth. They are called sudras.\n\nYou would be astonished to hear the great respect the sudras pay to the\nhigh and haughty Brahmins. When a sudra meets a Brahmin in the street, he\ntouches the ground three times with his forehead, then, taking the\npriest's foot in his hand, he kisses his toe.\n\nThe water in which a Brahmin has washed his feet is thought very holy. It\nis even believed that such water can cure diseases.\n\nA Hindoo prince, who was very ill of a fever, was advised to try this\nremedy. He invited the Brahmins from all parts of the country to\nassemble at his palace. Many thousands came. Each, as he arrived, was\nrequested to wash his feet in a basin. This was the medicine given to the\nsick prince to drink. It cost a great deal of money to procure it; for\nseveral shillings were given to each Brahmin to pay him for his trouble,\nand a good dinner was provided for all. It is said that the prince\nrecovered immediately, but we are quite certain that it was not the water\nwhich cured him.\n\nIn the holy books, or shasters, great blessings are promised to those who\nare kind to a Brahmin. Any one who gives him an umbrella will never more\nbe scorched by the sun; any one who gives him a pair of shoes will never\nhave blistered feet; any one who gives him sweet spices will never more\nbe annoyed by ill smells; and any one who gives him a cow will go to\nheaven.\n\nYou may be sure that, after such promises, the Brahmins get plenty of\npresents; indeed, they may generally be known by their well-fed\nappearance, as well as by their proud manner of walking. They always wear\na white cord hung round their necks.\n\nBut we must not suppose that all Brahmins are rich, and all sudras poor;\nfor it is not so. There are so many Brahmins that some can find no\nemployment as priests, and they are obliged to learn trades. Many of them\nbecome cooks.\n\nThere are sudras as rich as princes; but still a sudra can never be as\nhonorable as a Brahmin, though the Brahmin be the cook and the sudra the\nmaster.\n\nBut the sudras are not the _most_ despised people. Far from it. It is\nthose who have no caste at all who are the most despised. They are called\npariahs. These are people who have lost their caste. It is a very easy\nthing to lose caste, and once lost it can never be regained. A Brahmin\nwould lose his caste by eating with a sudra; a sudra would lose his by\neating with a pariah, and by eating with _you_--yes, with _you_, for the\nHindoos think that no one is holy but themselves. It often makes a\nmissionary smile when he enters a cottage to see the people putting away\ntheir food with haste, lest he should defile it by his touch.\n\nOnce an English officer, walking along the road, passed very near a\nHindoo just going to eat his dinner; suddenly he saw the man take up the\ndish and dash it angrily to the ground. Why? The officer's shadow had\npassed over the food and polluted it.\n\nIf you were to invite poor Hindoos to come to a feast, they would not eat\nif you sat down with them: nor would they eat unless they knew a Hindoo\nhad cooked their food. Even children at school will not eat with children\nof a lower caste,--or with their teachers, if the teachers are not\nHindoos.\n\nThere was once a little Hindoo girl named Rajee. She went to a\nmissionary's school, but she would not eat with her schoolfellows,\nbecause she belonged to a higher caste than they did. As she lived at the\nschool, her mother brought her food every day, and Rajee sat under a tree\nto eat it. At the end of two years she told her mother that she wished to\nturn from idols, and serve the living God. Her mother was much troubled\nat hearing this, and begged her child not to bring disgrace on the family\nby becoming a Christian. But Rajee was anxious to save her precious soul.\nShe cared no longer for her caste, for she knew that all she had been\ntaught about it was deceit and folly; therefore one day she sat down and\nate with her schoolfellows. When her mother heard of Rajee's conduct,\nshe ran to the school in a rage, and seizing her little daughter by the\nhair of the head, began to beat her severely. Then she hastened to the\npriests to ask them whether the child had lost her caste forever. The\npriests replied, \"Has the child got her new teeth?\" \"No,\" said the\nmother. \"Then we can cleanse her, and when her new teeth come she will be\nas pure as ever. But you must pay a good deal of money for the\ncleansing.\" Were they not _cunning_ priests? and _covetous_ priests too?\n\nThe money was paid, and Rajee was brought home against her will. Dreadful\nsufferings awaited the poor child. The cleansing was a cruel business.\nThe priests burned the child's tongue. This was one of their cruelties.\nWhen little Rajee was suffered to go back to school, she was so ill that\nshe could not rise from her bed.\n\nThe poor deceived mother came to see her. \"I am going to Jesus,\" said the\nyoung martyr. The mother began to weep, \"O Rajee, we will not let you\ndie.\"\n\n\"But I am glad,\" the little sufferer replied, \"because I shall go to\nJesus. If you, mother, would love him, and give up your idols, we should\nmeet again in heaven.\"\n\nAn hour afterwards Rajee went to heaven; but I have never heard whether\nher mother gave up her idols.\n\nTHE GANGES.--This beautiful river waters the sultry plain of Bengal. God\nmade this river to be a blessing, but man has turned it into a curse. The\nHindoos say the River Ganges is the goddess Gunga; and they flock from\nall parts of India to worship her. When they reach the river they bathe\nin it, and fancy they have washed away all their sins. They carry away\nlarge bottles of the sacred water for their friends at home.\n\nBut this is not all; very cruel deeds are committed by the side of the\nriver. It is supposed that all who die there will go to the Hindoo\nheaven. It is therefore the custom to drag dying people out of their\nbeds, and to lay them in the mud, exposed to the heat of the broiling\nsun, and then to pour pails of water over their heads.\n\nOne sick man, who was being carried to the water, covered up as if he\nwere dead, suddenly threw off the covering, and called out, \"I am not\ndead, I am only very ill.\" He knew that the cruel people who were\ncarrying him were going to cast him into the water while he was still\nalive: but nothing he could say could save him: the cruel creatures\nanswered, \"You may as well die _now_ as at any other time;\" and so they\ndrowned him, pretending all the while to be very kind.\n\nIt is thought a good thing to be thrown into the river after death. The\nGanges is the great burying-place; and dead bodies may be seen floating\non its waters, while crows and vultures are tearing the flesh from the\nbones. There would be many more of these horrible sights were it not that\nmany bodies are burned, and their ashes only cast into the river.\n\nSome foolish deceived creatures drown themselves in the Ganges, hoping to\nbe very happy hereafter as a reward. The Brahmins are ready to accompany\nsuch people into the water. Some men were once seen going into the river\nwith a large empty jar fastened to the back of each. The empty jar\nprevented them from sinking; but there was a cup in the hands of each of\nthe poor men, and with these cups they filled the jars, and then they\nbegan to sink. One of them grew frightened, and tried to get on shore;\nbut the wicked Brahmins in their boats hunted him, and tried to keep him\nin the water; however, they could not catch him, and the miserable man\nescaped. There are villages near the river whither such poor creatures\nflee, and where they end their days together; for their old friends would\nnot speak to them if they were to return to their homes.\n\nBEGGARS.--As you walk about Hindostan, you will sometimes meet a horrible\nobject, with no other covering than a tiger's skin, or else an orange\nscarf; his body besmeared with ashes, his hair matted like the shaggy\ncoat of a wild beast, and his nails like birds' claws. The man is a\nbeggar, and a very bold one, because he is considered as one of the\nholiest of men. Who is he?\n\nA sunnyasee. Who is _he_?\n\nA Brahmin, who wishing to be more holy than other Brahmins (holy as they\nare), has left all and become a beggar. As a reward, he expects, when he\ndies, to go straight to heaven, without being first born again in the\nworld. It is wonderful to see the tortures which a sunnyasee will endure.\nHe will stand for years on one leg, till it is full of wounds, or, if he\nprefers it, he will clench his fist till the nails grow through the\nhands.\n\nThese holy beggars are found in all parts of India, but they are\nparticularly fond of the most desolate spots. Near the mouth of the\nGanges there are some desert places, the resort of tigers, and there many\nof the sunnyasees live in huts. They pretend not to be afraid of the\ntigers, and the Hindoos think that tigers will not touch such holy men;\nbut it is certain that tigers have been seen dragging some of these proud\nmen into the woods.\n\nThere is another kind of beggars called fakirs; they are just as wicked\nand foolish as the sunnyasees; but they are Mahomedans and not Brahmins.\n\nANIMALS.--Some of the fiercest and most disagreeable animals are highly\nhonored in India.\n\nThe monkey is counted as a god; the consequence is, that the monkeys,\nfinding they are treated with respect, grow very bold, and are\ncontinually scrambling upon the roofs of the houses. In one place there\nis a garden where monkeys riot about at their pleasure, for all in that\ngarden is for them alone, the delicious fruits, the cool fountains, the\nshady bowers, all are for the worthless, mischievous monkeys.\n\nBut if it be strange for men to worship _monkeys_, is it not stranger\nstill to worship _snakes_ and _serpents_? Yet there is a temple in India\nwhere serpents crawl about at their pleasure, where they are waited upon\nby priests, and fed with fruits and every dainty. How much delighted must\nthe old serpent be with this worship!\n\nKites also, those fierce birds, are worshipped. There is meat sold in\nshops on purpose for them; and it is bought and thrown up in the air to\nthe great greedy creatures.\n\nThere are splendid peacocks flying about in the woods, but the Hindoos do\nnot worship them; they shoot and eat them.\n\nOf all the animals in India there is none which terrifies man so much as\nthe tiger. The Bengal tiger is a fine and fierce beast. Woe to the man or\nwoman on whom he springs! What then do you think must become of the man\nwho falls into his den? These dens are generally hid in jungles, which\nare places covered with trees, and overgrown with shrubs and tall grass.\n\nA gentleman was once walking through a jungle, when he felt himself\nsinking into the ground, while a cloud of dust blinded his eyes. Soon he\nheard a low growling noise. He fancied that he had sunk into a den, and\nso he had. Beside him lay some little tigers, too young indeed to hurt\nhim; but these tigers had a mother, and she could not be far off, though\nshe was not in the den when the stranger fell in. The astonished man felt\nthere was no time to be lost, for the tigress, he knew, would soon return\nto her cubs. How could he prepare to meet her? He had neither gun nor\nsword, nor even stick in his hand. But a thought came into his head.\nSnatching a silk handkerchief from his neck, and taking another from his\npocket, he bound them tightly round his arm up to his elbow; and thus\nprepared to meet his enemy. She soon appeared, crouching on the ground,\nand then with a spring leaped upon the stranger. At the same moment the\nbrave man thrust his arm between her open jaws, and seizing hold of her\nrough tongue, twisted it backwards and forwards with all his might. The\nbeast was now unable to close her mouth, and to bite with her sharp\nfangs; but she could scratch with her sharp claws; and scratch she did,\ntill the clothes were torn off the man's body, and the flesh from his\nbones. But the brave man would not loose his hold; and the tigress was\ntired out first: alarmed,--with a sudden start backward, she jerked her\ntongue out of the man's hand, and rushed out of the den and out of the\njungle.\n\nHow glad was the man to escape from a horrible fate! his body was faint\nand bleeding; but his life was preserved, and his heart overflowed with\ngratitude to God for his wonderful deliverance. He who delivered Daniel\nfrom the lion's den delivered him from the tiger's den. The tiger's\nmouth, indeed, had not been shut; but his open mouth had not been\nsuffered to devour the Lord's servant.\n\n\nTHE THUGS.\n\nThere is a set of people in India more dangerous than wild beasts. They\nare called Thugs, that is, deceivers; and well do they deserve the name;\nfor their whole employment is to _deceive_ that they may _destroy_. Yet\nthey are not ashamed of their wickedness; for they worship the goddess\nKalee, and they know that she delights in blood. Before they set out on\none of their cruel journeys, they bow down before the image of Kalee, and\nthey ask her to bless the shovel and the cloth that they hold in their\nhands.\n\nWhat are they for?\n\nThe cloth is to strangle poor travellers, and the shovel to dig their\ngraves.\n\nA Hindoo family were once travelling when they overtook three men on the\nway. These men seemed very civil and obliging; and they soon got\nacquainted with the family, and accompanied them on their journey. Who\nwere these men? Alas! they were Thugs. It was very foolish of the family\nto be so ready to go with strangers. At last they came up to three other\nmen, who were sitting under the shade of a tree, eating sugared rice.\nThese men also were Thugs; and they had agreed with the other Thugs to\nhelp them in their wicked plans. But the family thought they were kind\nand friendly men, and consented to sit down with them in the shade, and\nto partake of their food. They did not know that with the rice was mixed\na sort of drug to cause people to fall asleep. The family ate and fell\nasleep: and when they were asleep, the Thugs strangled them all with\ntheir cloths,--the father, the mother, and the five young people,--and\nthen with their shovels they dug their graves. But before they buried\nthem they stripped them of their garments and their jewels; for it was to\nget their precious spoils they had committed these dreadful murders. The\nThugs went afterwards to the priests of Kalee to receive a blessing, and\nthey rewarded the priests by giving them some of their stolen treasures.\n\nBut, after all, these wicked men did not escape punishment; for the\nEnglish governors heard of their crimes, and caught them, and brought\nthem to justice. Then these murderers confessed the wicked deed just\nrelated: but this was not their only crime; for it had been the business\nof their lives to rob and to destroy.\n\nDo not these Thugs resemble him who is always walking about seeking whom\nhe may devour? Only he destroys the _soul_ as well as the _body_. He is\nthe great Deceiver, and the great Destroyer. None but God can keep us\nfrom falling into his power: therefore we pray, \"Deliver us from evil,\"\nor from the evil one.\n\n\nTHE HINDOO WOMEN.\n\nIt is a miserable thing to be a Hindoo lady. While she is a very little\ngirl, she is allowed to play about, but when she comes to be ten or\ntwelve years old, she is shut up in the back rooms of the house till she\nis married; and when she is married she is shut up still. She may indeed\nwalk in the garden at the back of the house, but nowhere else.\n\nHindoo ladies are not taught even those trifling accomplishments which\nChinese ladies learn: they can neither paint, nor play music; much less\ncan they read and write. They amuse themselves by putting on their\nornaments, or by making curries and sweetmeats to please their husbands:\nbut most of their time they spend in idleness, sauntering about and\nchattering nonsense. As rich Hindoos have several wives, the ladies are\nnot alone; and being so much together, they quarrel a great deal.\n\nSome English ladies once visited the house of a rich Hindoo. They were\nled into the court at the back of the house, and shown into a little\nchamber. One by one some women came in, all looking very shy and afraid\nto speak; yet dressed very fine in muslin sarees, worked with gold and\nsilver flowers, and they were adorned with pearls and diamonds. At last\nthey ventured to admire the clothes of their visitors, and even to touch\nthem. Then they asked the English ladies to come and see their jewels;\nand they took them into a little dark chamber with gratings for windows,\nand displayed their treasures. They talked very loud, and all together\nand so foolishly, that the ladies reproved them. The poor creatures\nreplied, \"We should like to learn to read and work like the English\nladies; but we have nothing to do, and so we are accustomed to be idle,\nand to talk foolishly. Do come again, and bring us books, and pictures,\nand dolls.\"\n\nYou see what useless, wearisome lives the Hindoo _ladies_ lead. Now hear\nwhat hard and wretched lives the _poor_ women lead. The wife of a poor\nman rises from her mat before it is day, and by the light of a lamp spins\ncotton for the family clothing. Next she feeds the children, and sweeps\nthe house and yard, and cleans the brass and stone vessels. Then she\nwashes the rice, bruises, and boils it. By this time it is ten o'clock,\nwhen she goes with some other women to bathe in the river, or if there be\nno river near, in a great tank of rain-water. While there, she often\nmakes a clay image of her god, and worships it with prayers, and bowings,\nand offerings of fruit and flowers, for nearly an hour. On her return\nhome she prepares the curry for dinner: her kitchen is a clay furnace in\nthe yard, and there she boils the rice. When dinner is ready, she dares\nnot sit down with her husband to eat it: no, she places it respectfully\nbefore his mat, and then retires to the yard. Her little boys eat with\ntheir father; but her little girls dine with her upon the food that is\nleft.\n\nIt is not the busy life she leads that makes a poor woman unhappy: it is\nthe ill-treatment she endures. A kind word is seldom spoken to her: but a\nhard blow is often given. Her own boys are encouraged to insult her\nbecause she is only a woman. She is taught to worship her husband as a\ngod, however bad he may be. There is a proverb which shows how much women\nare despised in India. \"How can you place the black rice-pot beside the\ngolden spice-box!\" By the rice-box a woman is meant: by the spice-box a\nman: and the meaning of the proverb is that a wife is unworthy to sit at\nthe same table with her husband.\n\nIn this manner a _wife_ is treated: a _widow_ is still more despised.\nHowever young she may be, she is not allowed to marry again; but is\nobliged to live in her father's house, or (if she has no father) in her\nbrother's house, to do the hardest work, and never to eat more than one\nmeal a day, and that meal of the coarsest food. Widows used to burn\nthemselves in a great fire with their husbands' dead bodies; but the\nEnglish government has forbidden them to do so any more; but their\nhard-hearted relations make them as miserable as possible.\n\nMISSIONARIES.--There are hundreds of missionaries in India; but not\nnearly enough for so many millions of people. The Hindoos call them\nPadri-Sahibs, which means \"Father-Gentlemen,\" and they give them this\nname to show their love, as well as respect.\n\nOnce a missionary who had been long in India was going back to England\nfor a little while. It was from Calcutta that he set sail. The Christian\nHindoos stood in crowds by the river-side to bid him farewell. Among the\nrest was a little girl with her parents. She was a gracious child, who\nhad turned from idols to serve the living God. The missionary said to\nher, \"Well, my child, you know I am going to England. What shall I bring\nyou from that country?\"\n\n\"I do not want anything,\" she modestly replied. \"I have my parents, and\nmy brother, and the Padri-Sahibs, and my books, what can I want more?\"\n\n\"But,\" said the missionary, \"you are only a little girl, and surely you\nwould like something from England. Shall I bring you some playthings?\"\n\n\"No, thank you,\" said the child; \"I do not want playthings--I am learning\nto read.\"\n\n\"Come, come,\" said the missionary, \"shall I bring you a playfellow, a\nwhite child from England!\"\n\n\"No, no,\" answered the little girl, \"it would be taking her from her\nparents.\"\n\n\"Well then,\" said her friend, \"is there nothing I can bring you?\"\n\n\"Well, if you are so kind as to insist on bringing me something, ask the\nChristians in England to send me a Bible-book and more PADRI-SAHIBS.\"\n\n[Illustration: MISSIONARY'S HOUSE.]\n\nThis was a good request indeed, but to get Padri-Sahibs is a hard thing\nto do. Who can tell how much good they have done already! There are many\nChristian villages in India, and they are as different from heathen\nvillages as a dove's nest is different from a tiger's den.\n\nSome very wicked men have been converted. You have heard of those proud\nand hateful beggars, the Sunnyasees and the Fakirs.\n\nOne day a missionary, who had gone for his health to the Himalaya\nMountains, was walking in the verandah of his house, when he was\nsurprised by a man suddenly throwing himself down at his feet, and\nembracing his knees. The missionary could not tell who this man was, for\na dark blanket covered the man's head and face. But soon the covering was\nlifted up, and a swarthy and withered countenance was shown; the\nmissionary knew it to be that of an old Fakir he once had known, as the\nchief priest of a gang of robbers, but now the Mahomedan was become a\nChristian; and he had travelled six hundred miles, hoping to see once\nmore the face of his teacher; and lo! he had seen it at last.\n\nSCHOOLS.--The Hindoos have schools of their own, but only for boys. The\nscholars sit in a shed, cross-legged upon mats, and learn to scratch\nletters with iron pins upon large leaves. But what can they learn from\nBrahmin teachers but foolish tales about false gods?\n\nMissionaries have far better schools, where the Bible is taught; and\nmissionaries' wives have schools for girls; and sometimes they take pity\non poor orphans, and receive them into their houses.\n\nOne evening as a Christian lady was returning home, she saw a Hindoo\nwoman lying on the ground, and a little boy sitting by her side. The lady\nspoke kindly to the sick woman, and then the little boy looked up and\nsaid, with tears in his eyes, \"My mother is sick, and has nothing to eat;\nI fear she will die.\" The lady had compassion on the mother and the\nchild, and hastening home, she sent her servant to fetch them both. They\nwere soon put to rest on a nice clean mat, with a blanket to cover them;\nbut the mother died next morning. The little boy was left an orphan, but\nnot forlorn, nor friendless, for the Christian lady took care of him. He\nwas five years old, thin and delicate, and much fairer than most Hindoo\nchildren. He had many winning ways; but he had a proud heart. He was\nproud of his name, \"Ramchunda,\" because it was the name of a great false\ngod: but when he had learned about the true God, he asked for a new name,\nand was called \"John.\" His wishing to change his name was a good sign:\nand there were other good signs in this little orphan; and before he\ndied,--for he died soon,--he showed plainly that he had not a new _name_\nonly, but a new _nature_.\n\nLittle Phebe was another child received by a missionary's wife. She was\nnot an orphan, yet she was as much to be pitied as an orphan; for her\nmother told the missionaries that if they did not take the child, she\nwould throw her to the jackals. It was a happy exchange for the infant to\nleave so cruel a mother to be reared by a Christian lady, who, instead of\nthrowing her to jackals, brought her to Jesus.\n\nShe died when only five years old by an accident: when washing her hands\nin the great tank she fell in, and was drowned.\n\nBut some Hindoo children, though carefully instructed, do not grow gentle\nand loving, like John and Phebe.\n\nThe tents of some English soldiers were pitched in a lonely part of\nIndia; and the night was dark, when an officer's lady thought she heard\nthe sound of a child crying. The lady sent her servants out to look, and\nat last they brought in a little girl of four years old. And where do you\nthink they had found her? Buried up to her throat in a bog, her little\nhead alone peeping out. And who do you think had put her there? Her\ncruel mother. Yes, she had left her there to die.\n\nThis child gave a great deal of trouble to the kind lady who had saved\nher, nor did she show her any love in return for her kindness; and after\nkeeping her about two years, the lady sent her to a missionary's school.\n\nYou see how cruelly mothers in India sometimes treat their children.\nTheir religion teaches them to be cruel.\n\nA mother is taught to believe that if her babe is sick, an evil spirit is\nangry. To please this evil spirit, she will put her babe in a basket, and\nhang it up in a tree for three days. She goes then to look at it, and if\nit be alive, she takes it home. But how seldom does she find it alive!\nEither the ants or the vultures have eaten it, or it is starved to death.\n\nWhen there is a famine in the land, many mothers will sell their children\nfor sixpence each: and if they cannot sell them, they will leave them to\nperish.\n\nOne missionary received fifty-one poor starving children into his house:\nthey were always crying, \"Sahib, roti, roti;\" that is, \"Master, bread,\nbread.\" But the bread came to late too save their lives; for all died\nexcept one.\n\nYet these sick children were very wicked.\n\nOne of them stole a brass basin, and sold it for sweetmeats. Though very\nkindly treated, some of them wished to escape; and to prevent it, the\nmissionary tied them together in strings of fifteen;\n\nThere is a tribe in India called Khunds; and they sprinkle their fields\nwith children's blood, and they say this is the way to make the corn\ngrow. The English government once rescued eighty poor children from the\nKhunds, and sent them to a Christian school. What miserable little\ncreatures they were when they arrived! but they were soon clothed and\ncomforted; and taught to hold a needle, and to know their letters; and,\nbetter still, to pronounce the name of Jesus. Like these poor little\ncaptives, we were all condemned to die, till Jesus rescued us, and\npromised everlasting life to those who believe.\n\n\nTHE ENGLISH IN INDIA.\n\nThere are many rich English gentlemen living in India: some are judges,\nand some are merchants, and some are officers in the army. They dwell in\nlarge and grand houses, with many windows down to the ground, and a wide\nverandah to keep off the sun. Instead of _glass_, there is _grass_ in the\nwindows: the blinds are made of sweet-scented grass, and servants outside\ncontinually pour water on the grass to make the air cool. Instead of\n_fires_, they have _fans_. These fans are like large screens hanging from\nthe ceiling, and waving to and fro to refresh the company. Instead of\ncarpets there are mats on the floor; and round the beds gauze curtains\nare drawn to keep out the insects.\n\nThe servants are all Hindoos, and a great number are kept; and this is\nnecessary, because each servant will only do one kind of work.\n\nEach horse has two servants, one to take care of it, and the other to cut\ngrass: even the dog has a boy to look after it alone. The servants do not\nlive in their master's house, but in small huts near. The place where\nthey live is called \"the compound.\"\n\nWhen English people travel they do not go in carriages, but in\npalanquins. A palanquin is like a child's cot, only larger; and there a\ntraveller can sleep at his ease.\n\nThe men who carry the palanquins are called \"Bearers.\" The nurses are\ncalled Ayahs. Babies are carried out of doors by their ayahs, but\nchildren of three or four are taken out by the bearers.\n\nThere was once a little girl of three years old who taught her bearer to\nfear God.\n\nLittle Mary was walking out in a grove with her heathen bearer. She\nobserved him stop at a small Hindoo temple, and bow down to the stone\nimage before the door.\n\nThe lisping child inquired,--\"Saamy, what for, you do that?\"\n\n\"O, missy,\" said he, \"that is my god!\"\n\n\"Your god!\" exclaimed the child, \"your god, Saamy! Why your god can no\nsee, no can hear, no can walk--your god stone! My God make you, make me,\nmake everything!\" Yet Saamy still, whenever he passed the temple, bowed\ndown to his idol: and still the child reproved him. Though the old man\nwould not mind, yet he loved his baby teacher. Once when he thought she\nwas going to England he said to her,--\"What will poor Saamy do when missy\ngo to England? Saamy no father, no mother.\"\n\n\"O Saamy!\" replied the child, \"if you love God he will be your father,\nand mother too.\"\n\nThe poor bearer promised with tears in his eyes that he would love God.\n\"Then,\" said she, \"you must learn my prayers;\" and she began to teach him\nthe Lord's Prayer. Soon afterwards Mary's papa was surprised to see the\nbearer enter the room at the time of family prayers, and still more\nsurprised to see him take off his turban, kneel down, and repeat the\nLord's Prayer after his master. The lispings of the babe had brought the\nold man to God: Saamy did not only bow the knee, he worshipped in spirit\nand in truth, and became a real Christian.\n\n\nCHIEF CITIES.\n\nThere are three great cities which may be called English cities, though\nin India: because Englishmen built them, and live in them, and rule over\nthem. Their names are Calcutta, Madras, and Bombay.\n\nThe capital city is Calcutta. There the chief governor resides. Part of\nCalcutta is called the Black Town, and it is only a heap of mud huts\ncrowded with Hindoos. The other part of Calcutta is called the English\ntown; and it consists of beautiful houses by the river-side, each house\nsurrounded by a charming garden and a thick grove.\n\nMadras is built on a plain by the sea, and is adorned by fine avenues of\ntrees, amongst which the English live in elegant villas and gardens. Here\nalso there is a Black town. It is very hard to land at Madras, because\nthere is no harbor.\n\nBombay has one of the best harbors in the world. It is built on a small\nisland covered with cocoa-nut groves.\n\nNow let us compare these places with each other.\n\n_Calcutta_ boasts of her fine river, but then the ground is flat and\nmarshy; and therefore the air is damp and unhealthy, and there are no\ngrand prospects.\n\nMadras is very dry, and sandy, and dusty; but then there is the sea to\nenliven and refresh it.\n\nBombay has the sea also, besides the groves, and at a little distance,\nhigh mountains, which look beautiful, and which it is delightful to\nvisit. There are no such mountains near Calcutta or Madras.\n\nThese are the chief English cities. I must now speak of the favorite city\nof the Hindoos.\n\nIt is Benares on the Ganges.\n\nYou might go from Calcutta in a boat, and after sailing four hundred\nmiles, you would reach Benares. The Hindoos say that it was built by\ntheir god Sheeva, of gold and precious stones; but that, as we are living\nin a bad time, it _appears_ to be made of bricks and mud, though really\nvery different. They say that Benares is eighty thousand steps nearer\nheaven than any other city, and that whoever dies there (even though he\neat BEEF!) will go to heaven.\n\nA missionary once reported a Hindoo for telling lies. The answer was,\n\"Why, what of that? do I not live at Benares?\" The man thought he was\nquite safe, however wicked he might be.\n\nIn walking about Benares a stranger might be surprised to meet every now\nand then a white bull, with a hump on its back, without a driver or a\nrider, or any one to keep it in order. You must know that a white bull is\nsaid to belong to the chief god of Benares, and it is considered a sacred\nanimal, and is allowed to do as it pleases.\n\nAnd how does it behave?\n\nIt behaves much in the same manner as a child would who had its own way.\nThe white bull helps itself to the fruit and vegetables sold in the\nstreets, and even to the sweetmeats. It has a great taste for flowers;\nand it cunningly hides itself near the doors of the temples, to watch for\nthe people coming out with their garlands of marigolds round their necks.\nAt these the bull eagerly snatches with its tongue, and swallows them in\na moment. Finding it is petted by every one, it grows so bold, as to walk\ninto the houses, and even to go up the stone stairs on to the roof, where\nit seems to enjoy the cool air, as it quietly chews the cud.\n\nIn the spring the white bulls like to wander out in the fields to eat the\ntender green grass. A farmer finding one of these bulls in his fields,\nmade him get into a boat, and sent him by a man across the river Ganges.\nBut the cunning creature came back in the evening; for he watched till he\nsaw some people setting out in a boat, and then jumped in; and though\nthe passengers tried to turn him out, he would stay there. In this way he\ngot back to the cornfields.\n\nSo much respected are these bulls that a Hindoo would sooner lose his own\nlife than suffer one of them to be killed. An English gentleman was just\ngoing to shoot one that had broken into his garden, when his Hindoo\nservant rushed between him and the bull, saying, \"Shoot me, sir, shoot\nme, but let him go.\" You may be sure that the gentleman did not shoot the\nservant, and I think it probable he spared the bull's life.\n\nThere is one more city to be noticed.\n\nDELHI was once the grandest city in India, and the seat of the great\nMoguls, those Mahomedans who conquered India before the British came. The\nancient palace is still to be seen: it is built of red stone; but its\nornaments are gone; where is now the room lined with crystal, the golden\npalm-tree with diamond fruits, and the golden peacock with emerald wings,\novershadowing the monarch's throne?\n\nThe Persians have stripped the palace of all its gorgeous splendor.\n\nWe have now described the two most numerous nations in the world, China\nand Hindostan. They contain together more than half the world. In some\nrespects they are alike, and in some respects they are different. In\nthese respects they are different.\n\nIN CHINA.                          IN HINDOSTAN.\n\nThere is one emperor.              There is no emperor, and\n                                   the English govern the country.\n\nThere is one language.             There are many.\n\nThey use chairs, and tables,       They sit and sleep on mats.\nand beds.\n\nThey eat with chop-sticks.         They eat with their fingers.\n\nThey wear shoes.                   They go barefoot, and wear\n                                   sandals.\n\nThe men shave their heads          The men twist up their\nexcept one lock.                   hair with a comb.\n\nThey seldom wash themselves.       They bathe often.\n\nThey eat pigs more than            They abhor pigs.\nany other meat.\n\nThey are grave and silent.         They are merry and talkative.\n\nThey are industrious.              They are idle.\n\nThe most learned rise to be        Every one is high and low\ngreat men.                         according to his caste.\n\nThey mind the laws.                They care not for laws.\n\nThe land is well cultivated.       There is much waste land,\n                                   and many jungles.\n\nNow let us consider in what respects they are _alike_.\n\nChina and Hindostan are alike in these respects. They are both very\n_populous_, though China has twice as many inhabitants as Hindostan.\n\nIn both rice is the chief food.\n\nIn both large grown-up families live together.\n\nIn both the women are shut up.\n\nIn both foreigners are hated.\n\nIn both conjurers are admired.\n\nIn both many idols are worshipped.\n\nIn both there are ancient sacred books.\n\nIn both the people are deceitful, unmerciful to the poor, and in the\nhabit of destroying their own little girls when babies.\n\nIn both it is believed that the soul after death goes into another body,\nand is born over and over again into this world.\n\nIs it not mournful to think that more than half the people in the world\nhave no bright hope to cheer a dying bed? One poor Hindoo was heard to\nexclaim as he was dying, \"Where shall I go _last_ of all?\" He asked a\nwise question. He wanted to know where, after having been born ever so\nmany times, he should be put for _ever_ and _ever_. That is the great\npoint we all want to know. But the Hindoo and the Chinaman cannot know\nthis: they have never heard of _everlasting_ happiness.\n\n\n\n\nCIRCASSIA.\n\n\nThis is not a vast country like China, or Hindostan. It may be called a\nnook, it is so small compared with some great kingdoms: but it is famous\non account of the beauty of the people. They are fair, like Europeans,\nwith handsome features, and fine figures. But their beauty has done them\nharm, and not good; for the cruel Turks purchase many of the Circassian\nwomen, because they are beautiful, and shut them up in their houses.\nPerhaps you will be surprised to hear that the young Circassians think it\na fine thing to go to Turkey--to live in fine palaces and gardens,\ninstead of remaining in their own simple cottages. But I think that when\nthey find themselves confined between high walls, they must sigh to think\nof their flocks and their farms at home, and more than all, of the dear\nrelations they have left behind.\n\nCircassia is a pleasant country, situated near the noble mountains of\nCaucasus. The snow on the mountains cools the air, and makes Circassia as\npleasant to live in as our own England. Indeed, if you were suddenly to\nbe transported into Circassia, you would be ready to exclaim, \"Is not\nthis England? Here are apple-trees, and pear-trees, and plum-trees, like\nthose in my father's garden: those sounds are like the notes of the\nblackbird and thrush, which sing among the hawthorns in English woods.\"\n\nBut look again, you will see vines interlacing their fruitful branches\namong the spreading oaks. You do not see such vines in England. But hark!\nwhat do I hear? It is a sound never heard in England. It is the yell of\njackals.\n\nMANNERS OF THE PEOPLE.--There is no country in the world where the people\nare as kind to strangers as in Circassia. Every family, however poor, has\na guest-house. There is the family-house, with its orchard, and stables,\nand at a little distance, another house for strangers. This is no more\nthan a large room, with a stable at one end. The walls are made of\nwicker-work, plastered with clay. There is no ceiling but the rafters,\nand no floor but the bare earth. Yet there is a wide chimney, where a\nblazing fire is kept up with a pile of logs. And there is a sofa or\ndivan, covered with striped silk, and many neat mats to serve as beds for\nas many travellers as may arrive. The wind may whistle through the\nchinks, and the rain come through the roof, but the stranger is well\nwarmed, and comfortably lodged; and above all, he has the host to wait\nupon him with more attention than a servant. The supper is served as soon\nas the sun sets.\n\nBut where is the table? There is none. Is the supper placed on the floor?\nNot so. It is brought in on stools with three legs. They answer the\npurpose of tables, trays, and dishes, all in one. What is the fare served\nup? This is the sort of dinner provided. On the first table is placed a\nflat loaf; the gravy in the middle, and the meat all round. When this is\ntaken away, another table is brought in with cheese-cakes; a third with\nbutter and honey; a fourth with a pie; a fifth with a cream; and last of\nall, a table, with a wooden bowl of curdled milk. The company have no\nplates; but each Circassian carries a spoon and a knife in his girdle,\nand with these he helps himself. The servants who stand by, are not\nforgotten: a piece of meat or of pie-crust is often given to one of them;\nit is curious to see the men take it into a corner to eat it there. There\nare many hungry poor waiting at the door of the guest-house, ready to\nhelp the servants to devour the remains of the feast; and there is often\na great deal of food left; for there are generally _ten_ tables, and\nsometimes there are _forty_ tables. The guests are expected to taste the\nfood on each, however many there may be.\n\nInstead of wine, there is a drink called shuat handed to the guests: it\nis distilled from grain and honey. Vegetables are not much eaten in\nCircassia: for greens are considered fit only for beasts: and there are\nno potatoes. Pies, and tarts, and tartlets of various kinds are too well\nliked, and the finest ladies in the land are skilful in making them.\n\nThe family live in a thatched cottage, called \"the family-house.\" It is\nnot divided into rooms. If a man wants several rooms, he builds several\nhouses.\n\nAs you approach the dwelling of a Circassian, you hear the barking of\ndogs, and upon coming nearer, you see women milking cows, and feeding\npoultry, and boys tending goats, and leading horses.\n\nIf you go into the farm-yard, you will see among the animals, the\nbuffalo--but no pig. There are, however, wild boars in the woods.\n\nCIRCASSIAN WOMEN.--They are not shut up as Hindoo, and Chinese, and\nTurkish ladies are. They do not indeed go into the guest-house to see\nstrangers; but strangers are sometimes invited into the family-house to\nsee them.\n\nAn Englishman, who visited a family-house, was introduced to the wife and\ndaughter. They both rose up when he entered: nor would they sit down,\ntill he sat down; and this respect ladies show not only to gentlemen, but\neven to the poorest peasants. The only furniture in the house was the\ndivan, on which the ladies sat; a pile of boxes, containing the beds,\nwhich were to be spread on the floor at night; and a loom for weaving\ncloth, and spindles for spinning.\n\nThe daughter, who was sixteen, was dressed in a skirt of striped silk,\nwith a blue bodice, and silver clasps; and she wore a cap of scarlet\ncloth, adorned with silver lace--her light hair flowing over her\nshoulders: yet though so finely arrayed, her feet were bare; for she only\nput on her red slippers when she walked out. The mother was covered with\na loose calico wrapper, and her face was concealed by a thick white veil.\nThe visitor laid some needle-cases at the ladies' feet, for it is not the\ncustom for them to receive presents in their hands.\n\nThe needle-cases greatly delighted the young Hafiza, and her mother. The\npresent was well chosen, because the Circassian women are very\nindustrious, supplying their husbands and brothers with all their\nclothes, from the woollen bonnet to the morocco shoe. The wool, the flax,\nand the hemp, are all prepared at home by the mothers, and made into\nclothes by the girls, who first spin the thread, then weave the cloth,\nand finish by sewing the seams. Some girls are very clever in knitting\nsilver lace for trimming garments. A girl named Dussepli was famous for\nher skill in this art, indeed her name signifies, \"Shining as lace.\"\n\nAn Englishman went to the place where she lived to buy some of her lace.\nHe was shown into the guest-house, and he soon saw Dussepli approaching\nin a pair of high pattens. At first sight there was nothing pleasing in\nDussepli but when she spoke she seemed so kind, and so true, that it was\nimpossible not to like her. By her industry in knitting lace, and dyeing\ncloth, she helped to support her father, who was poor.\n\nTHE CIRCASSIAN MEN.--War is their chief occupation. Working in the fields\nis left to the women, and the little boys, and the slaves. There is,\nalas! great occasion for the men to fight, as the land has long been\ninfested with many dangerous enemies.\n\nThe Russians are endeavoring to conquer the Circassians: but the\nCircassians declare they will die sooner than yield. Long ago the enemies\nmust have triumphed, had it not been for the high mountains which afford\nhiding-places for the poor hunted inhabitants. Every man carries a gun, a\npistol, a dagger, and a sword; and the nobles are distinguished by a bow,\nand a quiver of arrows. The usual dress is of coarse dark cloth, and\nconsists of a tunic, trowsers, and gaiters. The cap or bonnet is of\nsheep-skin, or goatskin.\n\nThe boys are taught from their infancy to be hardy and manly. They are\nbrought up in a singular way. Instead of remaining at home, they are\ngiven at three years old, into the care of a stranger: and the reason of\nthis custom is, that they may not be petted by their parents. The\nstranger is called \"foster-father,\" and he teaches any boy under his care\nto ride well, and to shoot at a mark. The boy follows his foster-father\nover the mountains, urging his horses to climb tremendous heights, and to\nrush down ravines; and appeasing his hunger with a mouthful of honey from\nthe bag, fastened to his girdle. Such is the life he leads, till he is a\ntall and a strong youth; and then he returns home to his parents. His\nfoster-father presents him with a horse, and weapons of war, and requires\nno payment in return for all his care.\n\nMen brought up in this manner must be wild, bold, restless, and ignorant.\nSuch are the Circassians. They care not for learning, as the Chinese do,\nbut only for bravery. We cannot wonder at this, when we remember what\nenemies they have in their land. The Russians have built many strong\ntowers, whence they shoot at all who come near. But, not satisfied\nwith this, they often come forth and rob the villages.\n\n[Illustration: Guz Beg the \"Lion of Circassia.\"]\n\nThere was a Circassian, (and he may be still alive,) called Guz Beg; and\nhe gained for himself the name of the \"Lion of Circassia.\" He was always\nleading out little bands of men to attack the Russians. One day he found\nsome Russian soldiers reaping in the fields, and when he came near they\nran away in terror, leaving two hundred scythes in the field, which he\nseized. But a great calamity befel this Lion. He had an only son. When he\nfirst led the boy to the wars, he charged him never to shrink from the\nenemy, but to cut his way through the very midst. One day Guz Beg had\nridden into the thick of the Russian soldiers, when suddenly a ball\npierced his horse, and he was thrown headlong on the ground. There lay\nthe Lion among the hunters. In another moment he would have been killed,\nwhen suddenly a youthful warrior flew to his rescue;--it was his own son.\nBut what could _one_ do among so _many_! A troop of Circassian horse\nrushed to the spot, and bore away Guz Beg; but they were too late to save\nhis son. They bore away the _body_ only of the brave boy. Guz Beg was\ndeeply grieved; but he continued still to fight for his country.\n\nSee those black heaps of ashes. In that spot there once lived a prince\nnamed Zefri Bey, with his four hundred servants; but his dwellings were\nburned to the ground by the Russians. That prince fled to Turkey to plead\nfor help. What would have become of his wife, and little girls, if a kind\nfriend had not taken them under his care? This friend was hump-backed,\nbut very brave. Some English travellers went to visit him, and were\nreceived in the guest-house and regaled with a supper of many tables.\nNext day the little girls came to the guest-house and kissed their hands.\nThe daughter of the hump-backed man accompanied them. The children were\ndelighted with some toys the traveller gave them, and the kind young lady\naccepted needles and scissors. But where was the wife of Zefri Bey? A\nservant was sent to inquire after her, and found her in rags, lying on a\nmat, without even a counterpane, and weeping bitterly. Had no one given\nher clothes, and coverings? Yes, but she gave everything away, for she\nhad been used, as a princess, to make presents, and now she cared for\nnothing. Such are the miseries which the Russians bring upon Circassia.\n\nTHE GOVERNMENT.--There is no king of Circassia; but there are many\nprinces.\n\nThe people pay great respect to these princes, standing in their\npresence, and giving them the first place at feasts, and in the\nbattle-field. But though the people honor them, they do not obey them.\n\nThere is a parliament in Circassia, but it does not meet in a house, but\nin a grove. Every man who pleases may come, but only old men may speak.\nIf a young man were to give his opinions, no attention would be paid. The\nwarriors sit on the grass, and hang up their weapons of war on the boughs\nabove their heads, while they fasten their horses to the stems of the\ntrees.\n\nThe speakers are gentle in their tones of voice and behavior. The\nCircassians admire sweet winning speeches. They say there are three\nthings which mark a great man; a sharp sword, a sweet tongue, and forty\ntables. What do they mean by these? By a sharp sword they mean bravery,\nby a sweet tongue they mean soft speeches, and by forty tables they mean\ngiving plentiful suppers to neighbors and to strangers. Are the\nCircassians right in this way of thinking? No--for though bravery is\ngood, and speaking well is good, and giving away is good, these are not\nthe greatest virtues: and people may be brave, and speak well, and give\naway much, and yet be wicked: for they may be without the love of God in\ntheir hearts. What are the greatest virtues? These three, Faith, Hope,\nand Charity. These are graces which come from God.\n\nSERVANTS.--There are slaves in Circassia, called serfs. But they are so\nwell treated, that they are not like the slaves of other countries. They\nlive in huts round their master's dwelling; they work in the fields, and\nwait upon the guests, and share in the good fare on the little tables.\n\nWhen a Circassian takes a Russian prisoner, he makes him a slave, and\ngives him the hardest work to do. Yet the Russians are much happier with\ntheir Circassian masters than in their own country.\n\nOnce a Circassian said to his Russian slave, \"I am going to send you back\nto Russia.\" The man fell at his master's feet, saying, \"Rather than do\nso, use me as your dog; beat me, tie me up, and give me your bones to\npick.\" The master then told him that he had not spoken in earnest, and\nthat he would not send him away, and then the poor fellow began to shout,\nand to jump with joy.\n\nBROTHERHOODS.--There is a very remarkable plan in Circassia, unlike the\nplans in other countries. A certain number of men agree to call\nthemselves \"brothers.\" These brothers help each other on every occasion,\nand visit at each other's houses frequently. They are not received in the\nguest-house, but in the family-house, and are treated by all the family\nas if they were really the brothers of the master.\n\nA brotherhood sometimes consists of two thousand, but sometimes of only\ntwenty persons.\n\nRELIGION.--Circassia, though beautiful, is an unhappy country. The\nRussians keep the people in continual fear; this is a great evil. But\nthere is another nation who have done the Circassians still greater harm.\nI mean the Turks. And what have they done to them? They have persuaded\nthem to turn Mahomedans. The greatest harm that can be done to any one,\nis to give him a false religion. There are no grand mosques in Circassia,\nbecause there are no towns: but in every little village there is a clay\ncottage, where prayers are offered up in the name of Mahomet. There can\nbe no minaret to such a miserable mosque: so the man who calls the hours\nof prayer, climbs a tall tree, by the help of notches, and getting into a\nbasket at the top, makes the rocks and hills resound with his cry. How\ndifferent shall be the sound one day heard in every land; when all people\nshall believe in Jesus. \"Then shall the inhabitants of the rocks\nsing--then shall they shout from the top of the mountains, and give glory\nunto the _Lord_\" and not to Mahomet. (Is. xlii. 11, 12.)\n\nBut though the Circassians call themselves Mahomedans, they keep many of\ntheir old customs, and these customs show that they once heard about\nChrist.\n\nIt is their custom to dedicate every boy to God: but not really to _God_,\nfor in truth they dedicate him to the _cross_. Let me give you an account\nof one of the feasts of dedication.\n\nThe place of meeting was a green, shaded by spreading oak-trees. In the\nmidst stood a cross. Each family who came to the feast, brought a little\ntable, and placed it before the cross; and on each table, there were\nloaves, and a sort of bread called \"pasta.\" There was a blazing fire on\nthe green, round which the elder women sat, while the younger preferred\nthe shade of a thicket. The priest took a loaf of bread in one hand, and\nin the other, a large cup of shuat, (a kind of wine) and holding them out\ntowards the cross, blessed them. While he did this, men, women, and\nchildren, knelt around, and bowed their heads to the ground. Afterwards,\nthe shuat and the bread were handed about amongst the company. But this\nwas only the beginning of the feast. Afterwards, a calf, a sheep, and two\ngoats were brought to the cross to be blessed. Then a little of their\nhair was singed by a taper, and then they were taken away to be\nslaughtered. Now the merriment began: some moved forward to cut up the\nanimals, and to boil their flesh in large kettles on fires kindled on the\ngreen; many young men amused themselves with racing, leaping, and\nhurling stones, while the elder people sat and talked. When the meat was\nboiled, it was distributed among the sixty tables, and then the priest\nblessed the food. And then the feasting began. Does it not seem as if the\nCircassians must once have learned about Jesus crucified, and about his\nsupper of bread and wine, and about the Jewish feasts and sacrifices?\nOnce, perhaps, they knew the true religion, but they soon forgot it, and\nthough they still remember the _Cross_, they have forgotten _Christ_; and\nthough they still bless the bread and the cup, they know nothing of\nredeeming love. Do you not long to send missionaries to Circassia? Well,\nsome good Scotch missionaries went there some years ago, but alas! the\nRussians sent them away. Their thatched cottages may still be seen, and\ntheir fruitful orchards, but they themselves are gone. There are,\nhowever, a few German Christians in Circassia. They are not missionaries,\nbut only farmers, therefore the Russians allow them to remain. They have\na little church, where the Bible is read, and God is worshipped. You will\nbe glad to hear a few Circassians may be seen amongst the congregation;\nthey were converted by the Scotch missionaries, and they have remained\nfaithful amongst their heathen neighbors.\n\nCircassia is situated between two seas:--\n\nThe Black Sea, and\n\nThe Caspian Sea.\n\nWhat a wonderful place is the Caspian Sea. It is like a lake, only so\nimmensely large, that it is called a sea. The waters of lakes are fresh,\nlike those of rivers; but the waters of the Caspian are salt, but not so\nsalt as the salt sea. The shores of the Caspian are flat, and\nunwholesome. You might think as you stood there, that you were by the\ngreat ocean, for there are waves breaking on the sands, and water as far\nas the eye can reach, but there is no freshness in the air as by the real\nsea.\n\nThe mountains of Caucasus run through Circassia. They are quite low\ncompared to the Himalaya; they are about the height of the Alps, and the\ntops are covered with snow. But the valleys between these mountains, are\nnot like the Swiss valleys, which are broad and pleasant; but these\nvalleys are narrow, and dark, and not fit to live in, yet they are of\ngreat use as hiding-places for the Circassians. When pursued by a\nRussian, a Circassian will urge his horse to dash down the dark valley,\nand lest his horse should be alarmed by the sight of the dangerous depth\nbelow, he will cover the animal's eyes with his cloak. Thus, many a bold\nrider escapes from a cruel soldier.\n\n\n\n\nGEORGIA.\n\n\nWhen you hear of Circassia, you will generally hear of Georgia too, for\nthe countries lie close together, and resemble one another in many\nrespects. But though so near, their climate is different; for Circassia\nlies beyond the mountains of Caucasus, and is therefore, exposed to the\ncold winds of the north. But Georgia lies beneath the mountains, and is\nsheltered from the chill blasts. Georgia is, therefore, far more fruitful\nthan Circassia, the people, too, are less fair, and less industrious. The\nsides of the hills are clothed with vines, and houses with deep verandahs\nare scattered among the vineyards, and women wrapped in long white sheets\nmay be seen reposing in the porticoes, enjoying the soft air, and lovely\nprospect. While Circassian ladies are busy weaving and milking, the\nGeorgian ladies loll upon their couches, and do nothing. Which do you\nthink are the happier? These Georgian ladies, too, though very handsome,\nare much disfigured by painted faces, and stained eyebrows. Their\ncountenances, too, are lifeless, and silly, as might be expected, since\nthey waste their time in idleness. Over their foreheads, they wear a kind\nof low crown, called a tiara.\n\nThere is no country where so much wine is drank as in Georgia, even a\nlaborer is allowed five bottles a day. The grapes are exceedingly fine,\nquite different from the little berries called grapes in Circassia. The\ncasks are very curious, they are the skins of buffaloes, and as the tails\nand legs are not cut off, a skin filled with wine looks like a dead, or a\nsleeping buffalo.\n\nAnd what is the religion of Georgia? It is the Russian religion, because\nthe Russians have conquered the country. They cannot conquer the brave,\nand active Circassians, but they have conquered the soft, and indolent\nGeorgians. The Georgians are called Christians, but the Greek Church,\nwhich is the Russian religion, is a Christianity, laden with ceremonies\nand false doctrines.\n\n\nTIFLIS.\n\nThere is but one town in Georgia. It is beautifully situated on the steep\nbanks of a river, with terraces of houses, embosomed in vineyards. So\nlittle do the people care for reading, that there is not a bookseller's\nshop in the town, and it is very seldom that a bookcase is seen in a\nhouse; for the Georgians love show, and entertainments, and idleness, but\nnot study.\n\n\n\n\nTARTARY.\n\n\nThis is one of the largest countries in the world, yet it does not\ncontain as many people as the small land of France. How is this? You will\nnot be surprised that many people do not live there, when you hear what\nsort of a country it is.\n\nFancy a country quite flat, as far as eye can see, except where a few low\nsand-hills rise; a country quite bare, except where the coarse grass\ngrows;--a country quite dry, except where some narrow muddy streams run.\nSuch is Tartary. What is a country without hills, without trees, without\nbrooks? Can it be pleasant? This flat, bare, dry plain, is called the\nsteppes of Tartary. In one part of Tartary, there is a chain of\nmountains, and there are a few towns, and trees, but _very few_. You may\ntravel a long while without seeing one.\n\nNothing can be so dreary as the steppes appear in winter time. The high\nwind sweeping along the plain, drives the snow into high heaps, and often\nhurls the poor animals into a cold grave. Sledges cannot be used,\nbecause they cannot slide on such uneven ground. But if the _white_\nground looks dreary in winter, the _black_ ground looks hideous in\nsummer; for the hot sun turns the grass black, and fills the air with\nblack dust, and there are no shady groves, no cool hills, no refreshing\nbrooks. There must, indeed, be a _little_ shade among the thistles, as\nthey grow to twice the height of a man; but how different is such shade\nfrom the shade of spreading oaks like ours! Instead of nice fruit, there\nis bitter wormwood growing among the grass, and when the cows eat it,\ntheir milk becomes bitter.\n\nWILD ANIMALS.--The most common, is a pretty little creature called the\nsooslik. It is very much like a squirrel.\n\nBut can it live where squirrels live,--in the hollows of trees? Where are\nthe trees in the steppe? The sooslik makes a house for itself by digging\na hole in the ground, just as rabbits do in England. Will it not surprise\nyou to hear that wolves follow the same plan, and even the wild dogs? The\nhouses the dogs make are very convenient, for the entrance is very\nnarrow, and there is plenty of room below.\n\nThere are some very odious animals on the steppe. Snakes and toads. Yes,\nshowers of toads sometimes fall. But neither snakes nor toads are as\ngreat a plague as locusts. These little animals, not bigger than a\nchild's thumb, are more to be dreaded than a troop of wolves. And why?\nBecause they come in such immense numbers. The eggs lie hid in the ground\nall the winter. O if it were known _where_ they were concealed, they\nwould soon be destroyed. But no one knows where they are till they are\nhatched. In the first warm days of spring the young animals come forth,\nand immediately they begin crawling on the ground in one immense flock,\neating up all the grass as they pass along; in a month they can fly, and\nthen they darken the air like a thick cloud; wherever any green appears,\nthey drop down and settle on the spot. The noise they make in eating can\nbe heard to a great distance, and the noise they make in flying is like\nthe rustling of leaves in a forest. They cannot be destroyed: but there\nare two things they hate,--smoke and noise,--and by these they are\nsometimes scared and induced to fly away.\n\nPEOPLE AND CUSTOMS.--Besides the wild animals, there are tame animals,\nwho inhabit the steppe with men and women who take care of them. They are\nall wanderers, both men and beasts. You can easily guess why they wander.\nIt is to find sufficient grass for the cattle.\n\nEvery six weeks the Tartars move to a new place. Yet one place is so like\nanother, that no place appears new;--there is always the same immense\nplain--without a cottage, or an orchard, a green hill, or running brook,\nto make any spot remembered. It is great labor to the Tartar women to\npack up the tents and to place them on the backs of the camels, and then\nto unpack and to pitch the tents. It is a great disgrace to the men to\nsuffer the women to work as hard as they do: but the men are very idle,\nand like to sit by their tents smoking and drinking, while their wives\nare toiling and striving with all their might. The women have the care of\nall the cattle: and the men attend only to the horses. Perhaps they would\nnot even do this, were it not that they are very fond of riding; and such\nriders as the Tartars are seldom seen.\n\nTo give you an idea how they ride, I will describe one scene that took\nplace on the steppe.\n\nSome travellers from Europe were on a visit to a Tartar prince: (for\nthere are _princes_ in the desert,) and they were taken to see a herd of\nwild horses. The prince wished to have one of these wild horses caught.\nIt is not easy to do this. But Tartars know the way. Six men mounted a\ntame horse, and rushed into the midst of the wild horses. Each of the men\nhad a great noose in his hand. They all looked at the prince to know\nwhich horse he would have caught. When they saw the prince give a sign,\none of the men soon noosed a young horse. The creature seemed terrified\nwhen it found that it was caught: his eyes started out, his nostrils\nseemed to smoke. Presently a man came running up, sprang upon the back of\nthe wild horse, and by cutting the straps round his neck, set him at\nliberty. In an instant the horse darted away with the swiftness of an\narrow; yet the man firmly kept his seat. The animal seemed greatly\nalarmed at his strange burden, and tried every plan to get rid of\nit;--now suddenly stopping,--now crawling on the grass like a worm,--now\nrolling,--now rearing,--now dashing forward in a fast gallop through the\nmidst of the herd; yet all would not do; the rider clung to the horse as\nclosely as ever.\n\nBut how was the rider ever to get off his fiery steed? That would be\ndifficult indeed; but help was sent to him by the prince. Two men on\nhorseback rode after him, and between them they snatched away the man\nfrom the trembling and foaming horse. The animal, surprised to find his\nload suddenly gone, stood stupefied for a moment, and then darted off to\njoin his companions. What _this_ man did,--_many_ Tartars can do: and\neven _little boys_ will mount wild horses, and keep on by clinging to\ntheir manes: _women_, too, will gallop about on wild horses.\n\nIn Circassia the customs are very different; for though _men_ ride so\nwell, _women_ there never ride at all; and surely it is far better not to\nride than to be as bold as a Tartar woman.\n\nFOOD.--What can be the food of the Tartars? Not bread, (for there is no\ncorn,) nor fruit, nor vegetables. The flocks and herds are the food. The\nfavorite meat is horse-flesh; though mutton and beef are eaten also. Then\nthere is plenty of milk--both cow's milk and sheep's milk. As there is\nmilk, there is butter and cheese. But it is very unwholesome to live on\nmeat and milk without bread and vegetables. The water, too, is very bad;\nfor it is taken from the muddy rivers, and not from clear springs. It is\na comfort for the Tartar that he can procure tea from China. Their tea is\nindeed very unlike the tea brought to England; for it comes to Tartary in\nhard lumps, shaped like bricks. It is boiled in a saucepan with water,\nand then mixed with milk, butter, and salt. Thus you see the Tartar needs\nneither tea-kettle, teapot, nor sugar basin.\n\nIt would be well if tea and milk were the only drinks in Tartary; but a\nsort of spirit is distilled by the Tartars from mare's milk; and brandy\nalso is brought from Russia.\n\nTENTS.--A Tartar tent is very unlike an Arab tent.\n\nIt is in the shape of a hut, for the sides are upright, and the roof only\nis slanting, and there is a small hole at the top to let the smoke\nescape. Neither is it made of skins, but of thick woollen stuff, called\nfelt, which keeps the cold out. At night the entrance is closed, and the\nfamily sleep on mats around the fire in the midst.\n\nAPPEARANCE.--The Tartars are not handsome like the Turks and Circassians.\nThey are short and thick; their faces are broad and bony, their eyes very\nsmall, and only half open; their noses flat, their lips thick, their\nchins pointed, their ears large and flapping, and their skin dark and\nyellow.\n\nTheir dress is warm, and well suited for riding in the desert. Different\ntribes have different dresses: this is the dress of the Kalmuck Tartar.\nHe wears a yellow cloth cap trimmed with black lamb-skin; wide trowsers,\na tight jacket, and over all a loose tunic, fastened round the waist. His\nboots are red, with high heels. The women dress like the men; but they\nlet their hair grow in two long tresses, while the men shave part of\ntheir heads, and keep only _one_ lock of hair hanging on their shoulders.\n\n[Illustration: TARTAR TENTS.]\n\nYou see that the Tartars are much like the Chinese in their persons and\ndress; but they are a much stronger, bolder people, and much more\nignorant. No wonder, therefore, that many years ago the Tartars got over\nthe Chinese wall, and took possession of the Chinese throne. You must not\nforget that the Emperor of China is a Tartar.\n\nGOVERNMENT.--To whom does Tartary belong? Has it a king of its own? No.\nOnce it had many kings, called khans; but now the khans have lost their\npower, and are only _called_ khan to do them honor. Now Tartary belongs\nto the great empires on each side of it,--Russia and China. Part of\nTartary is called Russian Tartary, and part--Chinese Tartary. There is\nonly a small part that is not conquered; and it is called Independent\nTartary.\n\nThere are many different tribes, and each tribe keeps to a certain part\nof the land, and never ventures to wander beyond its own bounds.\n\nRELIGION.--The religion is the same as that which is so common in\nChina,--the religion of Buddha; but in some parts of Tartary there is the\nreligion of Mahomet. It is sad to think that far more people in the world\nworship Buddha, the deceiver, than Jesus, the Son of God. The Tartars\nthink to please their false god by making a loud noise. It would astonish\na stranger to hear their jingling bells, shrill horns, squeaking shells,\nbellowing trumpets, and deafening drums. How unlike is their senseless\nnoise to the sweet sound of a Christian hymn!\n\nThe Tartars think also to please their gods by glaring colors; so their\npriests dress in red and yellow, and bear flags, adorned with strips of\ngay silk. A band of priests looks something like a regiment of soldiers.\n\nThe chief priest is called the Lama, and he is worshipped as a god; but\nhis situation is not very pleasant; for he is not allowed to walk without\nhelp. Whenever he attempts to walk, he is held up by a man on each side,\nas if he were an infant; and usually he is drawn in a car, or carried in\na palanquin. From want of exercise, he becomes very weak and helpless.\nWhen he dies, his body is burned, and the ashes are gathered up and made\ninto an idol. Thus he continues to be a god after he is dead. Another\nLama is chosen by one of the princes. There are many Lamas in Tartary for\nthe various tribes.\n\nAs the Tartars are always moving about, a tent serves for a temple; and\nthe idols are carried in great chests. They cannot walk, therefore they\nmust be carried. What use are such gods?\n\nThe Tartars have found out a way of praying without any trouble; and it\nis a way that suits idols very well. They get some prayers written, and\nplace them in a drum, and then turn the drum round and round with a\nstring. This they call praying; and while they are thus praying, they can\nbe chattering, smoking, and even quarrelling. The princes have a still\neasier way of offering up prayers. They write prayers upon a flag, and\nthen place it before their tents for the wind to blow it about.\n\nThis is _their_ way of praying to their gods.\n\nAnd what, my dear child, is _your_ way of praying to your God?\n\nHave missionaries visited the Tartars?\n\nYes; I will tell you of two German missionaries, who tried to convert a\ntribe of Tartars called the Kalmucks, living near the Caspian Sea and the\nriver Volga. These good men were treated with great contempt by the\nTartars. The missionaries translated the Gospel of St. Matthew into the\nTartar language. One of the Tartars, instead of thanking them, observed,\n\"I wonder you should take so much trouble to prepare a book that we shall\nnever read.\" When the precious books were given to the Tartars, some of\nthem returned the books; and when it was read to them, they scornfully\nsaid, as they turned away, \"It is only the history of Jesus.\"\n\nAt last one Tartar, named Sodnom, believed in Jesus. He said to the\nmissionaries, \"Now the Tartars, from my example, may turn to the Lord:\nfor as, when sheep are to be washed, each is afraid to enter the water\ntill _one_ has been in, so it may be with my countrymen.\"\n\nSodnom read every evening in the Testament to his family in the tent. At\nfirst his wife was displeased, and said that her husband wasted the\nfire-wood in making a light to read a book that was of no use. But\nafterwards she listened, and made the children keep quiet. The neighbors\nalso listened, and _twenty-two_ turned to the Lord!\n\nThen the prince and the priests grew angry, and said the Christians must\nleave the camp. Where could the Christians go? There was a village called\nSarepta, where some Germans lived. There they determined to go, though it\nwas two hundred miles off. One of the missionaries led the way on\nhorseback; the Tartars followed on foot: then came camels bearing the\ntents and the women, while a bullock-cart contained the young children.\nThe flocks and herds were driven by the bigger children.\n\nThe good Germans in Sarepta received the Tartars with great joy. One\ngray-headed man of eighty-three came to meet them, leaning upon his\nstaff. He said he had been praying that he might see a _Christian_ Tartar\nbefore he died. He heard these Tartars sing hymns to the praise of\nJesus, and he felt his prayers were answered. Two days afterwards he\ndied. Like old Simeon, he might have said, \"Lord, now lettest thou thy\nservant depart in peace, for mine eyes have seen thy salvation.\"\n\nThe Christians went to live in a small island in the river Volga. When\nthe river was frozen, the Germans went over the ice to visit them. Sodnom\ngave them tea mixed with fat in a large wooden bowl; and to please him,\nthe kind Germans drank some, though they did not like it. Many Tartars\nassembled in Sodnom's tent, and seated on the ground smoking their pipes,\ntalked together about heavenly things; and before they parted, they put\naway their pipes, and folding their hands, sang hymns in their own\nlanguage. The Germans, in taking leave, divided a large loaf among the\ncompany; for bread is considered quite a dainty by the Tartars.\n\nThe change that had taken place in these Tartars filled the Germans with\njoy; and more missionaries would have gone to teach the heathen Kalmucks,\nhad not the Emperor of Russia forbidden them.\n\n\nASTRACAN.\n\nThis city is on the Caspian Sea. It is very unpleasant, on account of the\nheat and the gnats.\n\nNot only Tartars dwell there, but many people of all nations, Russians,\nHindoos, and Armenians. The chief trade of Astracan is in the fish of the\nsea, and in the salt on the shores.\n\n\nBOKHARA (IN TARTARY).\n\nThis is a kingdom in the midst of Tartary. It lies at the south of the\nCaspian Sea. It is not like the rest of Tartary, for it is a sweet green\nspot. Travellers have said that it is the most beautiful spot in the\nworld, but that is not true. The reason that travellers have said so, is\nthat, after passing through a great desert, they have been charmed at\nseeing again running streams, and shady groves.\n\nBut though Bokhara is a beautiful place, it is a wicked place.\n\nThe king is one of the greatest tyrants in the world. He is called the\nAmir.\n\nThe city where he dwells is called Bokhara (which is also the name of the\nwhole country). His palace is on a high mound, in the midst of splendid\nmosques, and mansions. Amongst these grand buildings is the prison, a\nplace of horrible cruelty. There the prisoners lie in the dark, and the\ndamp. One use of the prison is to keep water cool for the king in summer;\nit feels therefore just like a cellar.\n\nBut the worst dungeon, is filled with stinging insects, called \"ticks,\"\nreared on purpose to torment prisoners. In order to keep the ticks alive\nwhen no prisoners are there, raw meat is thrown into the place. There is\nalso a deep pit into which men are let down with ropes; as once the holy\nJeremiah was in Jerusalem.\n\nOnce a fortnight the prisoners are judged by the Amir. Even when the\nground is covered with snow they stand with bare feet, waiting for hours\ntill the Amir appears.\n\nCan so cruel a monarch be happy? No. He lives in constant fear of his\nlife.\n\nHe is afraid of drinking water, lest it should be poisoned. All that he\ndrinks is brought from the river in skins, and sealed, and guarded by two\nofficers; it is then taken to the chief counsellor, called the Vizier,\nand tasted by him, and his servants; it is then sealed again, and sent to\nhis majesty.\n\nThe Amir's dinner when it is ready, is not placed on the royal table, but\nlocked up in a box, and taken to the Vizier to be tasted, before it is\nserved up in the palace.\n\nBut it is not the Amir only who is afraid of poison. No one will accept\nfruit from another, unless that other tastes it first. It must be very\nterrible to live in the midst of such murderers as the people of Bokhara\nseem to be.\n\nThe Amir is so much afraid of people making plans to destroy him, that he\nchooses to see all the letters that are written by his subjects; if a\nhusband write to his wife, the letter must first be shown to the Amir.\nThere are boys, too, going about the city listening to all that is said,\nthat they may let the Amir know, if any one speak against him.\n\nBut while the Amir is watching his people, _they_ are watching _him_; for\nhis chief officers hire men to listen to the Amir's conversation, that\nthey may know if he intends to kill them. Yet every person _appears_ to\napprove all the Amir does, saying on every occasion, \"It is the act of a\nking; it must be good.\" They are such people as Jeremiah describes in the\nBible. \"Their tongue is as an arrow shot out, it speaketh deceit; one\n_speaketh_ peaceably to his neighbor, but in his _heart_ he lieth his\nwait.\"--(Jer. ix. 8.)\n\nAPPEARANCE.--The people in Bokhara are much handsomer than other\nTartars; their complexions are fairer, and their hair is of a lighter\ncolor. They wear large white turbans, and several dark pelisses with\nhigh-heeled boots. These high heels prevent their walking well, and most\npeople, both men and women, ride; but the ladies always hide their faces\nwith a veil of black hair cloth.\n\nThe large court of the palace is filled from morning to night with a\ncrowd of noisy people, most of them mounted on horses and donkeys.\n\nIn the midst of the court is the fruit market. It is wonderful to behold\nthe quantity, and beauty of the fruits. The same fruits grow in Bokhara\nas in England, only they are much finer. _Such_ grapes, plums, and\napricots, mulberries, and melons, are never seen in Europe, and they are\nmade more refreshing by being mixed with chopped ice. Large piles of ice\nstand all the summer long in the market-place, and even beggars drink\niced water. But hot tea is preferred before any other drink. In every\ncorner of the market there are large urns of hot tea, and small bowls of\nrich milk, surrounded all day by a thirsty crowd. How much better is this\nsight than the gin palaces of London!\n\nBut there is one great inconvenience in Bokhara, for which all its fruits\ncan scarcely make amends. There is bad water. For Bokhara is not built\non the banks of a river, or among running brooks: all the water is\nbrought by canals, from a small stream near the town, and when the canals\nare dried up by the heat, there is no water, except in the tanks where it\nis kept. This stagnant water produces a disease called the Guinea worm.\nIn this complaint the skin is covered with painful swellings, and when\nthey burst, a little flat worm is discovered in each, which must be drawn\nout before the poor sufferer can recover.\n\nRELIGION.--It is the Mahomedan. The Amir is a strict observer of his\nreligion. Every Friday he may be seen going to prayers in his great\nmosque. The Koran is carried before him, and four men with golden staves\naccompany him, crying out, \"Pray to God that the Commander of the\nFaithful may act justly.\" As he passes by, his people stroke their beards\nto show their respect. Bokhara is reckoned by Mahomedans a very religious\ncity; for in every street there is a mosque; every evening people may be\nseen crowding to prayers; and if boys are caught asleep during service,\nthey are tied together, and driven round the market by an officer, who\nbeats them all the way with a thick thong.\n\nThere is a school, too, in almost every street of Bokhara, and there the\npoor boys sit from sunrise, till an hour before sunset, bawling out\ntheir foolish lessons from the Koran; and during all that time they are\nnever allowed to go home, except once for some bread. They have no time\nfor play, except in the evening, and no holiday, except on Friday. Seven\nyears they spend in this manner, learning to read and write. When they\nleave school, if they wish to be counted very wise, they go to one of the\ncolleges; for there are many in Bokhara. Some spend all their lives in\nthese colleges, living in small cells, and meeting in a large hall to\nhear lectures about the Mahomedan religion. It is a happy thing, however,\nthat in summer the students go out to work in the fields; for how much\nbetter is it to work with the hands, than to fill the head with the\nwicked inventions of Mahomed.\n\nThe Mahomedans, however, are very proud of their religion, because they\n_say_, they do not worship idols; (yet they do worship at Mecca, a black\nstone, and other like things in other places). They imagine that _all_\nChristians are idolaters, for they know that the Russians bow down to\npictures.\n\nOnce the Vizier of Bokhara conversed a long while with two Englishmen\nabout their religion.\n\nHe asked them, \"Do you worship idols?\"\n\nThe Englishmen replied, \"No.\"\n\nThe Vizier would not believe them, but said, \"I am sure you have images\nand crosses hung round your necks.\"\n\nUpon which, they opened their vests to show there was nothing hidden.\n\nThen the Vizier smiled, and said to his servants, \"They are not bad\npeople.\"\n\nAs the servants were preparing tea, the Vizier took a cup, and said to\nthe travellers, \"You must drink with us, for you are people of the Book,\"\nmeaning the Bible.\n\nYet you must not suppose because the Vizier seemed to approve these\nChristians, that he, and the Amir, would allow missionaries to settle in\nthe kingdom.\n\nIt is dangerous for Englishmen to visit Bokhara. When they do come, they\nmust be very careful not to give offence, or they will lose their lives.\nEnglishmen are more dreaded than any other people, because it is known in\nBokhara, that they have conquered Hindostan, and therefore the Amir fears\nlest they should conquer his kingdom also. As soon as an Englishman\nenters Bokhara, he is forbidden to write a letter, for fear he should\ncontrive some plan to bring enemies there. Neither is he allowed to ride\nin the streets; none but Mahomedans are allowed to ride in them, though\nany one may ride _outside_ the city.\n\nSome years ago two Englishmen came to Bokhara, named Colonel Stoddart,\nand Captain Conolly. They acted foolishly in writing letters, and trying\nto send them secretly to their friends. They were found out, and shut up.\n\nColonel Stoddart behaved very wickedly in one respect; he pretended to be\na Mahomedan! Was not this wicked? Soon he grew sorry, and declared\nhimself a Christian. At last both Stoddart and Conolly were sentenced to\ndie. They were led with their hands tied behind them to a place near the\npalace, to be executed. Conolly as he went along, cried out, \"Woe, woe to\nme, for I have fallen into the hands of a tyrant.\" At the place of\nexecution the two Englishmen kissed each other.\n\nStoddart said to the king's minister, (for the Amir was not present,)\n\"Tell the Amir that I die a disbeliever in Mahomed, but a believer in\nJesus. I am a Christian, and a Christian I die.\"\n\nThen Conolly said to his friend, \"We shall see each other in paradise\nnear Jesus.\"\n\nThese were their last words. Immediately afterwards their heads were cut\noff with a knife.\n\nSome time after this cruel murder, a clergyman, named Joseph Wolff,\narrived at Bukhara. He had travelled all the way from England, and all\nalone, on purpose to inquire after Conolly, who had been his dear friend.\nThe Amir was surprised at his coming, and said, \"I have taken thousands\nof _Persians_ and made them slaves, and no one came from Persia to\ninquire what was become of them; but as soon as I take two ENGLISHMEN\nprisoners, behold a man comes all this long way to inquire after _them!_\"\n\nThe Amir did not know how precious are the lives of Englishmen in the\neyes of their countrymen.\n\nJoseph Wolff found it hard to get away from Bokhara. He was kept a long\nwhile in prison, and he feared he should be slain; for when he asked the\nAmir to give him the bones of Stoddart and Conolly to take to England,\nthis was the Amir's answer: \"I shall send YOUR bones!\" Yet, after all, he\nwas permitted to leave Bokhara, the Lord graciously inclining the tyrant\nto let him go.\n\nHow can Missionaries be sent to such a country!\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nBokhara is the only large town in the kingdom.\n\nThe sea of Aral lies to the north of the kingdom: it is an immense lake,\nbut not nearly so large as the Caspian Sea.\n\nThe river Oxus flows into the Caspian. It is famous for its golden sands.\n\nThe great trade of Bokhara is in black woolly lamb-skins, to make caps\nfor the Persians: the younger the lamb the more delicate the wool. Thus\nmany a pretty lambkin dies to adorn a Persian noble.\n\nThe best raisins in the world come from Bokhara.[8]\n\n\nTHE TOORKMAN TARTARS.\n\nYou have heard a great deal of the Tartars, and you have been told that\nthey are a quiet and peaceable nation. But not _all_; there is a tribe of\nTartars called the Toorkmans, of a very different character. They wander\nabout in the country between Bokhara and Persia, and their chief\nemployment is to steal men from Persia, and to sell them in Bokhara as\nslaves. A whole troop, mounted on horses, rush sword in hand upon a\nPersian city, and return to the camp with hundreds of beasts and human\ncreatures as their captives.\n\nSome English travellers once met five men chained together, walking with\nsad steps in the deep sands of the desert. They were Persians just caught\nby the Toorkmans, and on their way to Bokhara. When the Englishmen saw\nthese poor captives, they uttered a sorrowful cry, and the Persians began\nto weep. One of the travellers stopped his camel to listen to their sad\ntale; and he heard that a few weeks before, while working in the fields,\nthey had been seized and carried off. They were hungry and thirsty; for\nthe Toorkmans cruelly starve their slaves, in order that they may be too\nweak to run away. The traveller gave them all he had, which was a melon,\nto quench their thirst.\n\nBut the worst part of the Toorkmans' conduct remains yet to be told. When\nthey have taken many captives, they usually _kill_ the old people,\nbecause they would not get much money for them in Bokhara; and they\nchoose _one_ of their captives to offer up as a thank-offering to their\ngod!! Who is their god? The god of Mahomed. But though they are\nMahomedans, they have no mosques, and are too ignorant to be able to read\nthe Koran.\n\nRobbery is their whole business. For this purpose they learn to ride and\nto fight. They understand well how to manage a horse, so as to make him\nstrong and swift. They do not let him eat when he pleases, but they give\nhim three meals a day of hay and barley, and then rein him up that he may\nnot nibble the grass, and grow fat; and sometimes they give him no food\nat all, and yet make him gallop many miles. By this management the horses\nare very thin, but very _strong_, and able to bear their masters eighty\nmiles in a day when required; and they are so swift that they can outrun\ntheir pursuers.\n\nIt is not surprising that the Toorkmans do not eat these thin horses,\nthough other Tartars are so fond of horse-flesh. They prefer mutton. When\nthey invite a stranger to dinner, they boil a whole sheep in a large\nboiling-pot; then tear up the flesh,--mix it with crumbled bread, and\nserve it up in wooden bowls. Two persons eat from one bowl, dipping their\nhands into it, and licking up their food like dogs. The meal is finished\nby eating melons.\n\nThese coarse manners suit such fierce and wild creatures as the\nToorkmans. It is their boast that they rest neither under the shadow of a\nTREE nor of a KING: meaning that they have neither trees nor kings to\nprotect them in the desert.\n\nThe men wear high caps of black sheep-skin, while the Women wear high\nwhite turbans. The tents are adorned with beautiful carpets, not only the\nfloors, but the sides, and it is the chief employment of the women to\nweave them. As for the men, they spend most of their time in sauntering\nabout among the tents; for the fierce dogs guard the flocks. But when\ntheir hands are idle, their thoughts are still busy in planning new\nrobberies and murders.\n\nIt was by such men that the earth was inhabited when God sent the flood\nto destroy it. It is written, \"The earth was filled with VIOLENCE.\"\n\nIs there any man brave enough to go to these men to warn them of the\njudgment to come, and to tell them of pardon for the penitent, through\nthe blood of Jesus?[9]\n\n    [8] Taken from Sir Alexander Burnes, and from Kanikoff, the\n        Russian, and from Rev. Joseph Wolff.\n\n    [9] Extracted from Sir Alexander Burnes' \"Bokhara.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHINESE TARTARY.\n\n\nVery little is known in Europe of this part of Tartary; and why? Because\nthe Emperor of China, who reigns over it, does not like travellers to go\nthere.\n\nIt is divided by high and snowy mountains from the rest of Tartary. When\na traveller has passed over these mountains, he finds on the other side\nChinese officers, who inquire what business he has come upon. If he have\ncome only to wander about the country, he is desired to go home again;\nbecause the Chinese are afraid lest strangers should send spies, and then\nARMIES--to conquer their empire.\n\nOne traveller, because he stayed too long in Tartary, was imprisoned for\nthree months; and before he was let go, a picture of him was taken. What\nwas done with this picture? It was copied, and the copies were sent to\nvarious towns on the borders of Chinese Tartary, with this command, \"If\nthe man, who is like this picture, enter the country, his head is the\nEmperor's, and his property is _yours_.\" Happily the traveller heard of\nthis command, and was never seen again in the country. You see how\ncunning it was of the Chinese to allow any one who killed the traveller\nto have his property; for thus they made it the interest of all to kill\nhim.\n\nThere is one city in Chinese Tartary where many strangers come to trade\nwith the people. It is called Yarkund. There caravans arrive from Pekin,\nladen with tea, after a journey of five months over the wilds of Tartary.\nThen merchants come from Bokhara to buy the tea, and to carry it home,\nwhere it is so much liked.\n\n\n\n\nAFFGHANISTAN.\n\n\nThis land is not a desert. Yet there are but few trees, and because there\nis so little shade, the rivulets are soon dried up. Yet it might be a\nfruitful land, if the inhabitants would plant and sow. But they prefer\nwandering about in tents, and living upon plunder, to settling in one\nplace and living by their labor. The Tartar has good reason for roaming\nover his plains, because the land is bad; but the Affghan has no reason,\nbut the _love_ of roaming.\n\nThe plains of Affghanistan are sultry, but the mountains are cool; for\ntheir tops are covered with snow. The shepherds feed their flocks on the\nplains during the winter; but in the spring they lead them to the\nmountains to pass the summer there. Then the air is filled with the sweet\nscent of clover and violets. The sheep often stop to browse upon the\nfresh pasture; but they are not suffered to linger long. The children\nhave the charge of the lambs; an old goat or sheep goes before to\nencourage the lambs to proceed, and the children follow with switches of\ngreen grass. Many a little child who can only just run alone, enjoys the\nsport of driving the young lambs. The tents are borne on the backs of\ncamels. The men are terrible-looking creatures, tall, large, dark, and\ngrim, with shaggy hair and long black beards. They wear great turbans of\nblue check and handsome jackets, and cloaks of sheep-skin; they carry in\ntheir girdles knives as large as a butcher's; and on their shoulders a\nshield and a gun.\n\nBesides these wild wanderers, there are some Affghans who live in houses.\n\nCabool, the capital, is a fine city, and the king dwells in a fine\ncitadel. The bazaar is the finest in all Asia. It is like a street with\nmany arches across it; and these people sell all kinds of goods.\n\nBut what is a fine _bazaar_ compared to a beautiful _garden?_ Cabool is\nsurrounded by gardens: the most beautiful is the king's. In the midst is\nan octagon summer-house, where eight walks meet, and all the walks are\nshaded by fruit-trees. Here grow, as in Bokhara, the best fruits to be\nfound in an English garden, only much larger and sweeter. The same kind\nof birds, too, which sing in England sing among its branches, even the\nmelodious nightingale. It is the chief delight of the people of Cabool to\nwander in the gardens: they come there every evening, after having spent\nthe day in sauntering about the bazaar; for they are an idle people,\ntalking much and working little.\n\nThe noise in the city is so great that it is difficult to make a friend\nhear what you say: it is not the noise of rumbling wheels as in London,\nfor there are no wheeled carriages, but the noise of chattering tongues.\n\nThe Affghans are a temperate people; they live chiefly upon fruit with a\nlittle bread; and as they are Mahomedans, they avoid wine, and drink\ninstead iced sherbets, made of the juice of fruits. In winter excellent\n_dried_ fruits supply the place of fresh.\n\nBut the Affghan, though living on fruits, is far from being a harmless\nand amiable character; on the contrary, he is cruel, covetous, and\ntreacherous. Much British blood has been shed in the valleys of\nAffghanistan.\n\nWe cannot blame the Affghans for defending their own country. It was\nnatural for them to ask, \"What right has Britain to interfere with us?\"\n\nA British army was once sent to Affghanistan to force the people to have\na king they did not like, instead of one they did like.\n\nI will tell you of a youth who accompanied his father to the wars. This\nboy looked forward with delight to going as a soldier to a foreign land,\nand his heart beat high when the trumpet sounded to summon the troops to\nembark. Joyfully he quitted Bombay, crossed the Indian Ocean, and landed\nnear the mouth of the Indus. When the army began its march towards\nAffghanistan, he rode on a pony by his father's side.\n\nAt first it seemed pleasant to pitch the tent in a new spot every day, to\nrest during the heat, and to travel in the dead of the night, till the\nsun was high in the sky. But soon this way of life was found fatiguing,\nfor the heat was great, and the water scarce. The air, too, was clouded\nby the dust the troops raised in marching; and green grass was seldom\nseen, or a shady tree under which to rest. The food, too, was dry and\nstale, and no fresh food could be procured, for the Affghans, before they\nfled, destroyed the corn and fruit growing in the fields, that their\nenemies might not eat them. The camels, too, which bore the baggage of\nthe British army, grew ill from heat and thirst; for it is not true that\ncamels can live _long_ without water; in three or four days they die.\nBesides this, the hard rocks in the hilly country hurt their feet, and\nhastened their death. Many a camel died as it was seeking to quench its\nthirst at a narrow stream in the valley, and its dead body falling into\nthe water, polluted it. Yet this water the soldiers drank, for they had\nno other, and from drinking it they fell ill. The father of the youthful\nsoldier was one of these, and he was compelled to stop on the way for\nseveral weeks; and because the heat of a tent was too great, he took\nshelter in a ruined building. Here his son nursed him with a heavy heart.\nWhere was the delight the youth had expected to find in a soldier's life?\n\nAt last the British army reached a strong fort built on the top of a\nhill; Guznee was its name. Its walls and gates were so strong that it\nseemed impossible to get into the city; yet the British knew that if they\ndid _not_, they must die either by the Affghan sword, or by hunger and\nthirst among the rocks. For some time they were much perplexed and\ndistressed. At last a thought came into the mind of a British captain,\n\"Let us blow up the gates with gunpowder.\" The plan was good; but how to\nperform it,--there was the difficulty. Soon all was arranged. In the\nnight some sacks of gunpowder were laid very softly against the gates;\nbut as no one could set fire to the sacks when _close_ to them, a long\npipe of cloth was filled with gunpowder, and stretched like a serpent\nupon the ground; one end of the pipe touched the sack, and the other end\nwas to be set on fire. But before the match was applied, a British\nofficer peeped through a chink in the gates to see what the Affghans were\ndoing within. Behold! they were quietly smoking, and eating their supper,\nnot suspecting any danger! The match was applied--the gunpowder exploded,\nand the strong gates were shattered into a thousand pieces; the army\nrushed in sword in hand, and the Affghans fled in wild confusion.\n\nWhere was our young soldier? He was running into the fort between two\nfriendly soldiers, who kindly helped him on; each of them was holding one\nof his arms, and assisting him to keep up with the troops, as they rushed\nthrough the gates. As he ran, he heard horrible cries, but the darkness\nhindered him from seeing the dying Affghans rolling in the dust, only he\nfelt their soft bodies as he hastily passed over them. He heard his\nfellow-soldiers shouting and firing on every side. Some fell close beside\nhim, and others were wounded, and carried off on the shoulders of their\ncomrades, screaming with agony.\n\nHalf an hour after the gates were fired, the city was taken. The news of\nthe victory spread among the Affghans on the mountains, and the plains,\nand the whole country submitted to the British.\n\nThe army soon marched to Cabool, that proud city. No one opposed their\nentrance, and the bazaar, and the king's garden, and the royal citadel\nwere visited by our soldiers.\n\nAfter spending two months in beautiful Cabool, resting their weary limbs\nand feasting on fine fruits, the army was ordered to return home. They\nbegan to march again towards the coast, a distance of fifteen hundred\nmiles, over cragged rocks, and scorching plains.\n\nIn the course of this terrible journey, the father of the young soldier\nagain fell ill, and was forced to stop by the way. His affectionate son\nnursed him night and day; closed his eyes in death, and saw him laid in a\nlowly grave in the desert. With a bleeding heart the youth embarked to\nreturn to Bombay.\n\nDuring the voyage, a furious storm arose, and all on board despaired of\nlife. _Then_ it was the youth remembered the prayers he had offered up by\nhis dying father's bed; _then_ it was he felt he had not turned to God\nwith all his heart, and _then_ it was he vowed, that if the Lord would\nspare him this _once_, he would seek his face in truth. God heard and\nspared.\n\nAnd did the youth remember his prayers and vows? He did, though not at\n_first_,--yet after a little while he _did_. He read the word of God, he\nprayed for the Spirit of God, and at length he enjoyed the peace of God;\nand now he neither fears storm nor sword, because Christ is his shelter\nand his shield.\n\n\n\n\nBELOOCHISTAN.\n\n\nJust underneath Affghanistan, lies Beloochistan, by the sea coast. It is\nseparated from India by the river Indus. You may know a Beloochee from an\nAffghan by his stiff red cotton cap, in the shape of a hat without a\nbrim; whereas, an Affghan wears a turban. Yet the religion of the\nBeloochee is the same as that of the Affghan, namely, the Mahomedan, and\nthe character is alike, only the Beloochee is the fiercer of the two: the\ncountry also is alike, being wild and rocky.\n\nBeloochistan has not been conquered by the British: it has a king of its\nown; yet the British have fought against Beloochistan. On one occasion a\nBritish army was sent to punish the king of Beloochistan for not having\nsent corn to us, as he had promised.\n\nThe army consisted of three thousand men, and amongst them was the young\nsoldier, of whom you have heard so much already. His father was ill at\nthe time, and could not fight; but the youth came upon his pony, with a\ncamel to carry his tent, and all his baggage.\n\nThe troops as usual marched in the night. In the morning, about eight\no'clock, they first caught sight of Kelat, the capital of Beloochistan.\nIt was a grand sight, for the city is built on a high hill, with a\ncitadel at the top. The dark Beloochees were seen thronging about the\nwalls and the towers, gazing at the British army, but not daring to\napproach them.\n\nOur soldiers, when they first arrived, were too much tired to begin the\nattack, and therefore they rested on the grass for two hours. At ten\no'clock the word of command was given, and the attack was made. The\nBritish planted their six cannons opposite the gates, and began to fire.\n\nWhere was the young soldier? He was commanded to run with his company\nclose up to the wall, and there to remain. As he ran, he was exposed to\nthe full fire of the enemy. The youth heard bullets whizzing by as he\npassed, and he expected every moment that some ball would lay him low;\nbut through the mercy of God he reached the wall in safety. _Close_\nunderneath the wall was not a dangerous post, for the bullets passed over\nthe heads of those standing there.\n\nAbout noon, the British cannons had destroyed the gates. Then the British\nsoldiers rushed into the town. Amongst the first to enter was the young\nsoldier; because when the gates fell he was standing close by. As he\npassed along the streets, he saw no one but the dead and the dying; for\nthe Beloochees had fled for refuge to their citadel on the top of the\nhill. The king himself was there.\n\nThe citadel was a place very difficult for an enemy to enter; for the\nentrance was through a narrow dark passage underground. Into this passage\nthe British soldiers poured, but soon they came to a door, which they\ncould not get through, for Beloochee soldiers stood there, sword in hand,\nready to cut down any one who approached. \"Look at my back,\" said one\nsoldier to his fellow. The other looked, and beheld the most frightful\ngashes gaping wide and bleeding freely. Such were the wounds that each\nsoldier, who ventured near that door, was sure to receive.\n\nAt this moment a cry was heard, saying, \"Another passage is found.\" When\nthe Beloochees heard this cry, they gave up all hopes of keeping the\nenemy out of the citadel; so they left off fighting, and cried \"Peace.\"\n\nBut their king was already dead; he had fallen on the threshold of the\npassage last found. The _first_ man who tried to get in by that way the\n_king_ had killed; but the _second_ had killed the king. The British, as\nthey rushed in by this new way, trampled on the body of the fallen\nmonarch. He was a splendid object even in death; his long dark ringlets\nwere flowing over his glittering garments, and his sharp sword, with its\ngolden hilt, was in his hand. The British hurried by, and climbed the\nsteep and narrow stairs leading to the top of the citadel, and the enemy\nno longer durst oppose their course.\n\nOn the terrace at the top of the citadel, in the open air, stood the\nnobles of Beloochistan. There were princes too from the countries all\naround. It was a magnificent assembly. These men were the finest of a\nfine race. Some were clad in shining armor, and others in flowing\ngarments of green and gold. Thus they stood for a _moment_, and the\n_next_--they were rolling on the ground!!\n\nHow was this? Had not peace been agreed upon on both sides? Yes, but a\nBritish soldier had attempted to take away the sword of one of the\nprinces. The prince had resisted, and with his sword, had wounded the\nsoldier; and instantly every British gun on that spot had been pointed at\nthe nobles of Beloochistan.\n\nThis was why the nobles were lying in the agonies of death.\n\nOur young soldier was not one of those who slew the nobles. He was\nstanding on another part of the terrace, when, hearing a tremendous\nvolley of guns, he exclaimed to a friend, \"What can that be?\" Going\nforward, he beheld heaps of bleeding bodies, turbans, and garments--in\none confused mass. The dying were calling for water, and the very\nsoldiers who had shot them, were holding cups to their quivering lips,\nthough themselves parched with thirst. But water could not save the lives\nof the fallen nobles: one by one they ceased to cry out, and soon--all\nwere silent--and all were still. The VICTORY was WON! But how awful had\nbeen the last scene! How cruelly, how unjustly, had the lives of that\nprincely assembly been cut short!\n\nThe conquerors returned that evening to their camp. On their way, they\npassed through the desolate streets of the city; the mud cottages on each\nside were empty, and blood flowed between. The young officer, as he\nmarched at the head of his company, was struck by seeing a row of his own\nfellow-soldiers lying dead upon the ground. They had been placed there\nready for burial on the morrow. Their ghastly faces, and gaping wounds\nwere terrible to behold. The youth remembered them full of life and\nspirits in the morning, unmindful of their dismal end; _then_ he felt how\nmerciful God had been in sparing his life; and when he crept into his\nlittle tent that night, he returned him thanks upon his knees; though he\ndid not love him _then_ as his Saviour from eternal death. Wearied, he\nsoon fell asleep, but his sleep was broken by dreadful dreams of blood\nand death.\n\nThe next day he walked through the conquered town, and saw the British\nsoldiers dragging the dead bodies of their enemies by ropes fastened to\ntheir feet. They were dragging them to their grave, which was a deep\ntrench, and there they cast them in and covered them up with earth.\n\nSuch is the history of the conquest of Kelat.[10] How many souls were\nsuddenly hurled into eternity! How many unprepared to meet their Judge,\nbecause their sins were unpardoned, and their souls unwashed! But in war,\nwho thinks of souls and sins! O horrible war! How hateful to the Prince\nof Peace!\n\n   [10] September 13, 1839.\n\n\n\n\nBURMAH.\n\n\nOf all the kings in Asia, the king of Burmah is the greatest, next to the\nemperor of China. He has not indeed nearly as large a kingdom, or as many\nsubjects as that emperor; but like him, he is worshipped by his people.\nHe is called \"Lord of life and death,\" and the \"Owner of the sword,\" for\ninstead of holding a _sceptre_ in his hand, he holds a golden sheathed\n_sword_. A sword indeed suits him well, for he is very cruel to his\nsubjects. Nowhere are such severe punishments inflicted. For drinking\nbrandy the punishment is, pouring molten lead down the throat; and for\nrunning away from the army, the punishment is, cutting off both legs, and\nleaving the poor creature to bleed to death. A man for choosing to be a\nChristian was beaten all over the body with a wooden mallet, till he was\none mass of bruises; but before he was dead, he was let go.\n\nEvery one is much afraid of offending this cruel king. The people tremble\nat the sound of his name; and when they see him, they fall down with\ntheir heads in the dust. The king makes any one a lord whom he pleases,\nyet he treats even his lords very rudely. When displeased with them, he\nwill hunt them out of the room with his drawn sword. Once he made forty\nof his lords lie upon their faces for several hours, beneath the broiling\nsun, with a great beam over them to keep them still. It was well for them\nthat the king did not send for the men with spotted faces. Who are those\nmen? The executioners. Their faces are always covered with round marks\ntattooed in the skin. The sight of these spotted faces fills all the\npeople with terror. Every one runs away at the sight of a spotted face,\nand no one will allow a man with a spotted face to sit down in his house.\nIn what terror the poor Burmese must live, not knowing when the order for\ndeath will arrive. Yet the king is so much revered, that when he dies,\ninstead of saying, \"He is dead,\" the people say, \"He is gone to amuse\nhimself in the heavenly regions\"\n\nThe king has a great many governors under him, and they are as cruel as\nhimself. A missionary once saw a poor creature hanging on a cross. He\ninquired what the man had done, and finding that he was not a murderer,\nhe went to the governor to entreat him to pardon the man. For a long\nwhile the governor refused to hear him: but at last he gave him a note,\ndesiring the crucified man to be taken down from the cross. Would you\nbelieve it?--the Burmese officers were so cruel that they would not toke\nout the nails, till the missionary had promised them a _piece of cloth_\nas a reward! When the man was released, he was nearly dead, having been\nseven hours bleeding on the cross; but he was tenderly nursed by the\nmissionary, and at last he recovered. Yet all the agonies of a cross had\nnot changed the man's heart, and he returned to his old way of life as a\nthief. Had he believed in that Saviour who was nailed to a cross for his\nsins, he would, like the dying thief, have repented. Though the Burmese\nare so unfeeling to each other, they think it wrong to kill animals, and\nnever eat any meat, except the flesh of animals who have died of\nthemselves. Even the fishermen think they shall be punished hereafter for\ncatching fish; but they say, \"We must do it, or we shall be starved.\" You\nmay be sure that such a people must have some false and foolish religion;\nand so they have, as you will see.\n\n[Illustration: IDOL CAR AND PAGODA.]\n\nRELIGION.--It is the religion of Buddha. This Buddha was a man who was\nborn at Benares, in India, more than two thousand years ago; and people\nsay, that for his great goodness was made a boodh, or a god. Yet the\nBurmese do not think he is alive now; they say he is resting as a reward\nfor his goodness. Why then do they pray to him, if he cannot hear them?\nThey pray because they think it is very good to pray, and that they shall\nbe rewarded for it some day. What reward do they expect? It is this--to\n_rest_ as Buddha does--to sleep forever and ever. This is the reward they\nlook for. Every one in Burmah thinks he has been born a great many times\ninto the world,--now as an insect,--now as a bird,--now as a beast, and\nhe thinks that because he was very good,--as a reward he was made a\n_man_. Then he thinks that if he is very good as a _poor_ man, he shall\nbe born next time to be a _rich_ man; and at last, that he will be\nallowed to rest like Buddha himself. What is it to be good? The Burmese\nsay that the greatest goodness is making an idol, and next to that,\nmaking a pagoda. You know what an idol is, but do you know what a pagoda\nis? It is a house, with an idol _hidden_ inside, and it has no door, nor\nwindow, therefore no one can get into a pagoda. Some pagodas are very\nlarge, and others very small. As it is thought so very good to make idols\nand pagodas, the whole land is filled with them; the roads in some places\nare lined with them; the mountains are crowned with them.\n\nNext to making idols, and building pagodas, it is considered good to make\nofferings. You may see the father climbing a steep hill to reach a\npagoda, his little one by his side, and plucking green twigs as he goes.\nHe reaches the pagoda, and strikes the great bell, then enters the\nidol-house near the pagoda, and teaches his young child how to fold its\nlittle hands, and to raise them to its forehead, while it repeats a\nsenseless prayer; then leaving the green twigs at the idol's feet, the\nfather descends with his child in his arms. How many little ones, such\nas Jesus once took in his arms, are taught every day to serve Satan.\n\nThe people who are thought the best in Burmah, are the priests. Any one\nthat pleases may be a priest. The priests pretend to be poor, and go out\nbegging every morning with their empty dishes in their hands; but they\nget them well filled, and then return to the handsome house, all shining\nwith gold, in which they live together in plenty and in pride. They are\nexpected to dress in rags, to show that they are poor; but not liking\nrags, they cut up cloth in little pieces, and sew the pieces together to\nmake their yellow robes; and this they call wearing rags. They pretend to\nbe so modest, that they do not like to show their faces, and so hide them\nwith a fan, even when they preach; for they do preach in their way, that\nis, they tell foolish stories about Buddha. The name they give him is\nGuadama, while the Chinese call him Fo. They have five hundred and fifty\nstories written in their books about him; for they say he was once a\nbird, a fly, an elephant, and all manner of creatures, and was so good\nwhatever he was, that at last he was born the son of a king.\n\nCHARACTER.--The Burmese are a blunt and rough people. They are not like\nthe Chinese and the Hindoos, ready to pay compliments to strangers. When\na Burmese has finished a visit, he says, \"I am going,\" and his friend\nreplies, \"Go.\" This is very blunt behavior. But all blunt people are not\nsincere. The Burmese are very deceitful, and tell lies on every occasion;\nindeed, they are not ashamed of their falsehoods. They are also very\nproud, because they fancy they were so good before they were born into\nthis world. All the kind actions they do are in the hope of getting more\nmerit, and this bad motive spoils all they do. They are kind to\ntravellers. In every village there is a pretty house, called a Zayat,\nwhere travellers may rest. As soon as a guest arrives, the villagers\nhasten to wait upon him;--one brings a clean mat, another a jug of water,\nand a third a basket of fruit. But why is all this attention shown? In\nthe hope of getting merit. The Burmese resemble the Chinese in their\nrespect to their parents. They are better than the Chinese in their\ntreatment of their children, for they are kind to the _girls_ is well as\nto the boys; neither do they destroy any of their infants. They are\ntemperate also, not drinking wine,--having only two meals in the day, and\nthen not eating too much. In these points they are to be approved. They\nare, however, very violent in their tempers; it is true they are not very\neasily provoked, but when they are angry, they use very abusive language.\nThus you see they are by no means an amiable people.\n\nAPPEARANCE.--In their persons they are far less pleasing than the\nHindoos; for instead of _slender_ faces and figures, they have broad\nfaces and thick figures. But they have not such dark complexions as the\nHindoos.\n\nThey disfigure themselves in various ways. To make their skins yellow,\nthey sprinkle over them a yellow powder. They also make their teeth\nblack, because they say they do not wish to have white teeth like dogs\nand monkeys. They bore their ears, and put bars of gold, or silver, or\nmarble through the holes.\n\nThe women wear a petticoat and a jacket. The men wear a turban, a loose\nrobe, and a jacket; they tie up their hair in a knot behind, and tattoo\ntheir legs, by pricking their skin, and then putting in black oil. They\nhave the disagreeable custom of smoking, and of chewing a stuff called\n\"coon,\" which they carry in a box.\n\nEvery one (except the priests) carries an umbrella to guard him from the\nsun; the king alone has a white one; his nobles have gilded umbrellas;\nthe next class have red umbrellas; and the lowest have green.\n\nFOOD.--Burmah is a pleasanter country than Hindostan, for it is not so\nhot, and yet it is as fruitful. The people live chiefly upon rice; but\nwhen they cannot get enough, they find abundance of leaves and roots to\nsatisfy their hunger.\n\nANIMALS.--There are many tigers, but no lions. The Burmese are fond of\nadorning their houses with statues of lions, but never having seen any,\nthey make very strange and laughable figures. The pride of Burmah is her\nelephants; but they all belong to the king, and none may ride upon one\nbut himself, and his chief favorite. Carriages are drawn by bullocks, or\nbuffaloes; and there are horses for riding, so the Burmese can do very\nwell without the elephants. The king thinks a great deal too much of\nthese noble animals. There was a white elephant that he delighted in so\nmuch, that he adorned it with gold, and jewels, and counted it next to\nhimself in rank, even above the queen.\n\nHOUSES.--The Burmese build their houses on posts, so that there is an\nempty place under the floors. Dogs and crows may often be seen walking\nunder the houses, eating whatever has fallen through the cracks of the\nfloor.\n\nThe king allows none but the nobles to build houses of brick and stone;\nthe rest build them of bamboos. This law is unpleasant; but there is\nanother law which is a great comfort to the poor. It is _this_;--any one\nmay have land who wishes for it. A man has only to cultivate a piece of\nspare land, and it is counted his, _as long_ as he continues to cultivate\nit; therefore all industrious people have gardens of their own.\n\n\nTHE KARENS.\n\nAmong the mountains of Burmah, there are a wild people called the Karens,\nvery poor and very ignorant; yet some have attended to the voice of the\nmissionaries. They are not so proud as the Burmese; for they have no gods\nat all, and no books at all: they have not filled their heads with five\nhundred and fifty stories about Gaudama; therefore they are more ready to\nlisten to the history of Jesus.\n\nThe Karens live in houses raised from the ground, and so large is the\nplace underneath, that they keep poultry and pigs there. Every year they\nmove to a new place, and build new houses, clear a new piece of ground,\nby burning the weeds, dig it up, and sow rice. Thus they wander about,\nand they number their years by the number of houses they have lived in.\n\nOf all the Eastern nations, they sing and play the most sweetly, and when\nthey become Christians, they sing hymns, very sweetly indeed.\n\nThere is one Christian village among the mountains, called Mata, which\nmeans love; and every morning the people meet together in the Zayat, or\ntravellers' house, to sing and pray. Before they were Christians, the\nKarens were in constant fear of the Nats; (not _insects_, but evil\nspirits), and sometimes in order to please their Nats, they were so cruel\nas to beat a pig to death. The Christian Karens have left off such\nbarbarous practices, and have become kind and compassionate. When the\nmissionaries told them that they ought to love one another, some of them\nwent secretly the next day to wait upon a poor leper, and upon a woman\ncovered with sores. Another day, without being asked, they collected some\nmoney and brought it to the missionaries, saying, they wished to set free\na poor Burman who had been imprisoned for Christ's sake. It is cheering\nto the missionaries to see them turning from their sins.[11]\n\nAVA.\n\nThis city was once the capital of Burmah, and then it was called the\n\"golden city.\" But now the king lives in another city, and the glory of\nAva has passed away.\n\nMAULMAIN.\n\nThis city, though in Burmah, may be called a British city, because the\nBritish built it; for they have conquered great part of Burmah. There are\nmissionaries there. One there is, named Judson, who has turned more than\na hundred Burmese to the Lord. But he has known great troubles. His wife\nand his little girl shared in these troubles.\n\nI will now relate the history of the short life of little Maria Judson.\n\nTHE MISSIONARY'S BABE.\n\nThe missionary's babe, little Maria, was born in a cottage by the side of\na river, and very near the walls of the great city of Ava, where the king\ndwelt.\n\nIt was a wooden cottage, thatched with straw, and screened by a verandah\nfrom the burning sun. It was not like an English cottage, for it was\nbuilt on high posts, that the cool air might play beneath. It contained\nthree small rooms all on one floor. The country around was lovely; for\nthe green banks of the river were adorned with various colored flowers\nand with trees laden with fine fruits.\n\nIn this pretty cottage, the infant Maria was lulled in her mother's arms\nto sleep, and often the tears rolling down the mother's cheeks, fell upon\nthe baby's fair face. Why did the mother weep? It was for her husband she\nwept. He was not dead, but he was in prison. He was a missionary, and the\nking of Ava had imprisoned him in the midst of the great city. Was his\nwife left all alone with her babe in her cottage? No, there were two\nlittle Burmese girls there. They were the children of heathen parents,\nand they had been received by the kind lady into her cottage, and now\nthey were learning to worship God. Their new names were, Mary, and Abby.\nThere were also two men servants, of dark complexion, dressed in white\ncotton, and wearing turbans. It was a sorrowful little household, because\nthe master of the family was absent, because he was in distress, and his\nlife was in danger. Every day his fond wife visited him in his prison.\nShe left her babe under the care of Mary, and set out with a little\nbasket in her hand. After walking two miles through the streets of Ava,\nshe came to some high walls--she knocked at the gate--a stern-looking\nman opened it. The lady, passing through the gates, entered a court. In\none corner of the court, there was a little shed made of bamboos, and\nnear it, upon a mat, eat a pale, and sorrowful man. His countenance\nbrightens when he perceives the lady enter. She refreshes him with the\nnice food she has brought in her basket, and comforts him with sweet and\nheavenly words:--then hastens to return to her babe. As soon as she\nenters her cottage, she sinks back, half fainting, in her rocking-chair,\nwhile she folds again her little darling in her arms. Happy babe! thy\nparents are suffering for Jesus--and they are blessed of the Lord, and\ntheir baby with them.\n\nGreater sorrows still, soon befell the little family. One day, a\nmessenger came to the cottage, with the sad tidings that the bamboo hut\nhad been torn down, the mat, and pillow taken away, and the prisoner,\nladen with chains, thrust into the inner prison. The loving wife hastened\nto the governor of the city to ask for mercy; but she could obtain none,\nonly she was permitted to see her husband. And _what_ a sight! He was\nshut up in a room with a hundred men, and without a _window!!_ Though the\nweather was hot no breath of air reached the poor prisoners, but through\nthe cracks in the boards. No wonder that the missionary soon fell ill of\na fever. His wife, fearing he would die, determined to act like the widow\nin the parable, and to weary the unjust judge by her entreaties. She left\nher quiet cottage, and built a hut of bamboos at the governor's gate,\nand there she lived with her babe, and the little Burmese girls. The\nprison was just opposite the governor's gate, so that the anxious wife\nhad now the comfort of being near her suffering husband. The governor was\nwearied by her importunity, and at last permitted her to build again a\nbamboo hovel for the prisoner in the court of the prison. The sick man\nwas brought out of the noisome dungeon, and was laid upon his mat in the\nfresh air. He was supplied with food and medicine by his faithful wife,\nand he began to recover.\n\nBut in three days, a change occurred. Suddenly the poor wife heard that\nher beloved had been dragged from his prison, and taken, she knew not\nwhere. She inquired of everybody she saw, \"Where is he gone?\" but no\nanswer could she obtain. At last the governor told her, that his prisoner\nwas taken to a great city, named A-ma-ra-poora. This city was seven miles\nfrom Ava. The wife decided in a moment what to do. She determined to\nfollow her husband. Taking her babe in her arms, and accompanied by the\nBurmese children, and one servant, she set out. She went to the city up\nthe river in a covered boat, and thus she was sheltered from the\nscorching sun of an Indian May. But when she arrived at Amarapoora, she\nheard that her husband had been taken to a village six miles off. To this\nvillage she travelled in a clumsy cart drawn by oxen. Overcome with\nfatigue, she arrived at the prison, and saw her poor husband sitting in\nthe court chained to another prisoner, and looking very ill. He had\nneither hat, nor coat, nor shoes, and his feet were covered with wounds\nhe had received, as he had been driven over the burning gravel on the way\nto the prison: but his wounds had been bound up by a kind heathen\nservant, who had torn up his own turban to make bandages.\n\nWhen the missionary saw his wife approaching with her infant, he felt\ngrieved on her account, and exclaimed, \"Why have you come? You cannot\nlive here?\" But she cared not where she lived, so that she could be near\nher suffering husband. She wished to build a bamboo hut at the prison\ngate: but the jailor would not allow her. However, he let her live in a\nroom of his own house. It was a wretched room, with no furniture but a\nmat. Here the mother and the children slept that night, while the\nservant, wrapped in his cloth, lay at the door. They had no supper that\nnight. Next day, they bought food in the village, with some silver that\nthe lady kept carefully concealed in her clothes.\n\nA new trouble soon came upon them. Mary was seized with a small-pox of a\ndreadful sort. Who now was to help the weak mother to nurse the little\nMaria? Abby was too young. The babe was four months old, and a heavy\nburden for feeble arms; yet all day long the mother carried it, as she\nwent to and fro from the sick child to the poor prisoner. Sometimes, when\nit was asleep, she laid it down by the side of her husband. He was able\nto watch a _sleeping_ babe, but not to nurse a babe _awake_, owing to his\ngreat weakness, and to his mangled feet. Soon the babe herself was\nattacked by the small-pox, and continued very ill for three months. This\nlast trial was too much for the poor mother. Her strength failed her, and\nfor many weeks she lay upon her mat unable to rise. She must have\nperished, if it had not been for the faithful servant. He was a native\nof Bengal, and a heathen. Yet he was so much concerned for his sick\nmistress and imprisoned master, that he would sometimes go without food\nall day, while he was attending to their wants; and he did all without\nexpecting any wages.\n\nThe poor little infant was in a sad case now its mother was lying on the\nmat. It cried so much for milk, that once its father got leave to carry\nit round the village to ask the mothers who had babes, to give some milk\nto his. By this plan, the little creature was quieted in the day, but at\nnight its cries were most distressing.\n\nThe time at length arrived, when these trials were to end. The king sent\nfor the missionary, not to put him to death, as he had once intended, but\nto ask for his help. What help could he render to the king? The reason\nwhy the missionary had been imprisoned so long was, that a British army\nhad attacked Burmah. The king had feared, lest the missionary should take\npart with the enemy, and therefore he had shut him up. Now there were\nhopes of peace, and an interpreter was wanted to help the Burmese to\nspeak with the British. The missionary knew both the English language and\nthe Burmese, and he could explain to the king what the English general\nwould say.\n\nFor this purpose he was brought to Ava. He was not driven along the road\nlike a beast, but relieved from his chains, and treated with less cruelty\nthan formerly. Yet he was still a prisoner.\n\nThe mother was now well enough to make a journey, though still very weak.\nShe returned to her cottage by the river-side, and soon she had the\ndelight of seeing her husband enter it. It was seventeen months since he\nhad been torn from it by the king's officers, and ever since, he had been\ngroaning in irons. But he was not now come to remain in his cottage, but\nonly to obtain a little food and clothing to take with him to the Burmese\ncamp. His wife felt cheered on his account, hoping that as an interpreter\nhe would be well treated.\n\nNo sooner was he gone, than she was seized with that deadly disease,\ncalled spotted fever. What now would become of little Maria? Through the\ntender mercy of God, on the very day the mother fell ill, a Burmese woman\noffered to nurse the babe. Every day the mother grew worse, till at last\nthe neighbors came in to see her die. As they stood around, they\nexclaimed, in their Burmese tongue, \"She is dead, and if the king of\nangels should come in, he could not recover her.\" _Their_ king of angels\ncould _not_, but _her_ KING of ANGELS could, for he can raise the dead.\nBut this dear lady was _not_ dead, though nearly dead.\n\nThe Lord of life showed her mercy. A friend entered the sick chamber. It\nwas Dr. Price, a missionary and a prisoner, but who had obtained leave\nfrom the king to visit the sick lady. He understood her case, and he\nordered her head to be shaved, and blisters to be applied to her feet.\nFrom that time, she began to recover, and in a month, she had strength to\nstand up. The governor, who had once been so slow to hear her complaints,\nnow sent for her to his house. He received her in the kindest manner.\nWhat was her joy, when she foiled her husband there, not as a prisoner,\nbut as a guest. Many prayers had she offered up, during her long illness,\nand they were now answered. The promise she had trusted in was fulfilled.\nThis was _that_ promise: \"Call upon me in the day of trouble, and I WILL\nDELIVER THEE, and thou shalt glorify me.\"\n\nBut still brighter days were at hand. The King of Burmah had peace with\nthe British, and had agreed to deliver the missionaries into their hands.\nGlad, indeed, were they to escape from the power of the cruel monarch.\nLittle Maria and her parents, as well as Mary and Abby, were conveyed in\na boat down the river to the place where the English army had encamped.\nThe English general received them with fatherly kindness, and gave them a\ntent to dwell in near his own. What a fortnight they spent in that tent.\nIt was a morning of joy, after a night of weeping. Little Maria was now,\nfor the first time, dwelling with _both_ her parents.\n\nSoon afterwards she was taken to a new home in a town in Burmah, built by\nthe English. It was called Amherst[12]. Here the missionary might teach\nthe Burmese to know their Saviour, without being under the power of the\ncruel Burmese king.\n\nIt seemed as if the little family, so long afflicted, were now to dwell\nin safety, and to labor in comfort. But there is a rest for the people of\nGod, and to this rest one of this family was soon removed.\n\nThe missionary determined to go to Ava, to plead with the king for\npermission to teach his subjects. He parted from his beloved wife,\nlittle thinking he should never see her again.\n\nDuring her husband's absence, she watched with deep anxiety over her\nlittle Maria. The child was pale, and puny, yet very affectionate and\nintelligent. Whenever her mamma said, \"Where is dear papa gone?\" the\nlittle creature started up, and pointed to the sea. She could not speak\nplainly, for she was only twenty months old.\n\nNot long did she enjoy her mother's tender care. The poor mother, worn\nwith her past watching, and weeping, was attacked by fever. As she lay\nupon the bed, she was heard to say, \"The teacher is long in coming, I\nmust die alone, and leave my little one; but as it is the will of God, I\nam content.\"\n\nShe grew so ill, that she took no notice of anything that passed around\nher; but even then she called for her child, and charged the nurse to be\nkind to it, and to indulge it in everything till its father returned.\nThis charge she gave, because she knew the babe wan sick, and needed the\ntenderest care. At last the mother lay without moving, her eyes closed,\nand her head resting on her arm. Thus she continued for two days, and\nthen she uttered one cry, and ceased to breathe. Her illness had lasted\neighteen days. Then she rested from her labors, and slept in Jesus.\n\nWhat now became of little Maria? The wife of an English officer receded\nher in her house for a few weeks, and then a missionary and his wife came\nto Maria's home, and took charge of the child. Maria was pleased to come\nback to her own home, and she fancied that kind Mrs. Wade was her own\nmother.\n\nWhat a day it was when the poor father returned home! No wife to meet\nhim, with love and joy; only a sickly babe, who had forgotten him, and\nturned from him with alarm. Where could he go, but to the grave to weep\nthere? then he returned to the house to look at the very spot where he\nhad knelt with his wife in prayer, and parted from her in hope of a happy\nreturn.\n\nLittle Maria was nursed with a mother's care, though not in a mother's\narms; but her delicate frame had been shaken by her infant troubles, and\ncare and comforts came TOO LATE. After drooping day by day, she died at\nthe age of two years and three months, exactly six months after her\nmother. Her father was near to close her faded eyes, and fold her little\nhands on her cold breast, and then to lay her in a little grave, close\nbeside her mother's, under the Hope Tree.\n\nThe words of the poet would suit well the case of this much tried\ninfant:--\n\n    \"Short pain, short grief, dear babe, were thine,\n    _Now_, joys eternal and divine.\"\n\nLike Maria's are the sufferings of many a missionary's babe, and many lie\nin an early tomb. But they are dear to the Saviour, for their parents'\nsakes, and their deaths are precious in his sight, and their spirits and\ntheir dust are safe in his hands.\n\n   [11] Taken from \"Travels in Eastern Asia,\" by Rev. Howard Malcolm.\n\n   [12] Amherst is only thirty miles from Maulmain.\n\n\n\n\nSIAM.\n\n\nCross a river, and you pass from Burmah to Siam. These two countries,\nlike most countries close together, have quarrelled a great deal, and\nnow Britain has got in between them, and has parted them; as a nurse\nmight come and part two quarrelsome children. Britain has conquered that\npart of Burmah which lies close to Siam, and has called it British\nBurmah; so Siam is now at peace.\n\nBut though these two countries have been such enemies, they are as like\neach other as two sisters. Siam is the little sister. Siam is a long\nnarrow slip of a country, having the sea on one side, and mountains on\nthe other.\n\nThe religion of Siam is the same as that of Burmah, the worship of\nBuddha. But in Siam he is not called Buddha: the name given him there is\n\"Codom.\" You see how many names this Buddha has; in China he is Fo; in\nBurmah he is Gaudama; in Siam, he is Codom. Neither is he honored in Siam\nin exactly the same way as in Burmah. Instead of building magnificent\npagodas, the Siamese build magnificent image houses or temples.\n\nThe Siamese resemble the Burmese in appearance, but they are much worse\nlooking. Their faces are very broad, and flat; and so large are the jaws\nunder the ears, that they appear as if they were swollen. Their manner of\ndressing their hair does not improve their looks; for they cut their hair\nquite close, except just on the top of their heads, where they make it\nstand up like bristles; nor do they wear any covering on their heads,\nexcept when it is very hot, and then they put on a hat in the shape of a\nmilk pan, made of leaves. They do not disfigure themselves, as the\nBurmese do, with nose-rings, and ear-bars; but they, love ornaments quite\nas much, and load themselves with necklaces and bracelets. Their dress\nconsists of a printed cotton garment, wound round the body. This is the\ndress of the women as well as of the men; only sometimes the women wear a\nhandkerchief over their necks.\n\nIn disposition the Siamese are deceitful, and cowardly. It has been said\nof them, that as _friends_ they are not to be _trusted_, and as _enemies_\nnot to be _feared:_ they cannot be trusted because they are deceitful:\nthey need not be feared because they are cowardly. This is indeed a\ndreadful character; for many wicked people are faithful to their friends,\nand brave in resisting their enemies.\n\nNo doubt the manner in which they are governed makes them cowardly; for\nthey are taught to behave as if they were worms. Whoever enters the\npresence of the king, must creep about on hands and knees. The great\nlords require their servants to show them the same respect. Servants\nalways crawl into a room, pushing in their trays before them; and when\nwaiting, they walk about on their knees. How shocking to see men made\nlike worms to gratify the pride of their fellow-men! The rule is never to\nlet your head be higher than the head of a person more honorable than\nyourself; if he stand, you must sit; if he sit, you must crouch.\n\nThe Siamese are like the Burmese in cruelty. When an enemy falls into\ntheir hands, no mercy is shown.\n\nA king of a small country called Laos, was taken captive by the Siamese.\nThis king, with his family, were shut up in a large iron cage, and\nexhibited as a sight. There he was, surrounded by his sons and grandsons,\nand all of them were heavily laden with chains on their necks and legs.\nTwo of them were little boys, and they played and laughed in their\ncage!--so thoughtless are children! But the elder sons looked very\nmiserable; they hung down their heads, and fixed their eyes on the\nground; and well they might; for within their sight were various horrible\ninstruments of torture;--spears with which to pierce them;--an iron\nboiler, in which to heat oil to scald them;--a gallows on which to hang\ntheir bodies, and--a pestle and mortar in which to pound the children to\npowder. You see how Satan fills the heart of the heathen with his own\ncruel devices. The people who came to see this miserable family, rejoiced\nat the sight of their misery: but they lost the delight they expected in\ntormenting the old king, for he died of a broken heart; and all they\ncould do _then_, was to insult his body; they beheaded it, and then hung\nit upon a gibbet, where every one might see it, and the beasts and birds\ndevour it.\n\nWhat became of his unhappy family is not known.\n\nBut though so barbarous to their _enemies_, the Siamese in some respects\nare better than most other heathen nations, for they treat their\n_relations_ more kindly. They do not kill their infants, nor shut up\ntheir wives, nor cast out their parents. Yet they show their cruelty in\nthis:--they often sell one another for slaves. They also purchase slaves\nin great numbers; and there are wild men in the mountains who watch\nBurmans and Karens to sell them to the great chiefs of Siam. It is the\npride of their chiefs to have thousands of slaves crawling around them.\n\nBANKOK.\n\nThis city is built on an island in a broad river, and part of it on the\nbanks of the river. It ought therefore to be a pleasant city, but it is\n_not_, owing to its extreme untidiness. The streets are full of mud, and\novergrown with bushes, amongst which all the refuse is thrown; there are\nalso many ditches with planks thrown across. There is only one pleasant\npart of the town, and that is, where the Wats are built. The Wats are the\nidol-houses. Near them are shady walks and fragrant flowers, and elegant\ndwellings for the priests. The people think they get great merit by\nmaking Wats, and therefore they take so much trouble: for the Siamese are\nvery idle. So idle are they that there would be very little trade in\nBankok, if it were not for the Chinese, who come over here in crowds, and\nmake sugar, and buy and sell, and get money to take back to China. You\nmay tell in a moment a Chinaman's garden from a Siamese garden; one is\nso neat and full of flowers;--the other is overgrown with weeds and\nstrewn with litter.\n\nThe most curious sight in Bankok, is the row of floating houses. These\nhouses are placed upon posts in the river, and do not move about as boats\ndo; yet if you _wish_ to move your house, you can do so; you have only to\ntake up the posts, and float to another place.\n\nBesides the floating houses, there are numerous boats in the river, and\nsome so small that a child can row them. There are so many that they\noften come against each other, and are overset. A traveller once passed\nby a boat where a little girl of seven was rowing, and by accident his\nboat overset hers. The child fell out of her boat, and her paddle out of\nher hand; yet she was not the least frightened, only surprised; and after\nlooking about for a moment, she burst out a laughing, and was soon seen\nswimming behind her boat (still upside down), with her paddle in her\nhand. These little laughing rowers are too giddy to like learning, and\nthey are not at all willing to come to the missionaries' schools; but\nsome poor children, redeemed from slavery, are glad to be there, and have\nbeen taught about Christ in these schools.\n\n\n\n\nMALACCA.\n\n\nThis is a peninsula, or almost an island, for there is water almost all\nround it. In shape it is something like a _dog's_ leg, even as Italy is\nlike a _man's_ leg.\n\nThe weather in Malacca is much pleasanter than in most parts of India,\nbecause the sea-breezes make the air fresh. There is no rainy season, as\nin most hot countries, but a shower cools the air almost every day. The\ncountry, too, is beautiful, for there are mountains, and forests, and\nstreams.\n\nYet it is a dangerous country to live in, for the people are very\ntreacherous. There are many pirates among them. What are pirates? Robbers\nby sea. If they see a small vessel, in a moment the pirates in their\nships try to overtake it, seize it, take the crew prisoners, and sell\nthem for slaves. The governors of the land do not punish the pirates; far\nfrom punishing them, they share in the gains. That is a wicked land\nindeed, where the governors encourage the people in their sins.\n\nMalacca has no king of her own; the land belongs to Siam, except a very\nsmall part. The inhabitants are called Malays. They are not like the\nSiamese in character; for instead of being cowardly, they are fierce.\nNeither have they the same religion, for instead of being Buddhists, they\nare Mahomedans. Yet they know very little about the Koran, or its laws.\nOne command, however, they have learned, which is--to hate infidels. They\ncount all who do not believe in Mahomet to be infidels, and they say that\nit is right to hunt them. They are proud of taking Christian vessels, and\nof selling Christians as slaves.\n\nThere are some valuable plants in Malacca. There is one which has a seed\ncalled \"pepper.\" There is a tree which has in the stem a pith called\nsago. Who collects the pepper and the sago? There are mines of tin. Who\ndigs up the tin? The idle Malays will not take so much trouble, so the\nindustrious Chinese labor instead. The Chinese come over by thousands to\nget rich in Malacca. As there is not room for them in their own country,\nthey are glad to settle in other countries. But though the Chinese set an\nexample of _industry_, they do not set an example of _goodness_; for they\ngamble, and so lose their _money_, they smoke opium, and so lose their\n_health_, and they commit many kinds of wickedness by which they lose\ntheir _souls_.\n\nAs for the Malays, they are so very idle, that when trees fall over the\nriver, and block up the way, they will not be at the trouble of cutting a\nway through for their boats,--but will sooner creep _under_ or climb\n_over_ the fallen trees.\n\nThe capital of Malacca is Malacca, and this city belongs to the English;\nbut it is of little use to them, because the harbor is not good.\n\n\nSINGAPORE.\n\nThis city also belongs to the English, and it is of great use to them,\nbecause the harbor is one of the best in the world. Many ships come there\nto buy, and to sell, and amongst the rest, the Chinese junks. The city is\nbuilt on a small island, very near the coast. There are many beautiful\ncountry houses perched on the hills, where English families live, and\nthere are long flights of stone steps leading from their houses to the\nsea.\n\nBut many of the Malays have no home but a boat, hardly large enough to\nlie down in. There they gain a living by catching fish, and collecting\nshells, and coral, to exchange for sago, which is their food. These men\nare called \"Ourang-lout,\" which means \"Man of the water.\" Does not this\nname remind you of the apes called \"Ourang-outang,\" which means \"Man of\nthe woods?\" There are Ourang-outangs in the forests of Malacca, and they\nare more like men, and are more easily tamed than any other ape. Yet\nstill how different is the _tamest_ ape from the _wildest_ man; for the\none has an immortal soul, and the other has none.\n\nThe Malay language is said to be the easiest in the world, even as the\nChinese is the most difficult. The Malay language has no cases or\ngenders, or conjugations, which puzzle little boys so much in their Latin\nGrammars. It is easy for missionaries to learn the Malay language. When\nthey know it, they can talk to the Chinese in Malacca in this language.\n\nI will tell you of a school that an English lady has opened at Singapore\nfor poor Chinese girls.\n\n\nTHE CHRISTIAN SCHOOL-GIRLS.\n\nThe two elder girls were sisters, and were called Chun and Han. Both of\nthem, when they heard about Jesus, believed in him, and loved him. Yet\ntheir characters were very different, Chun being of a joyful\ndisposition, and Han of a mournful and timid temper. They had no father,\nand their mother was employed in the school to take care of the little\nchildren, and to teach them needle-work; but she was a heathen.\n\nWhen Chun and Han had been three years in the school, their mother wanted\nthem to leave, and to come with her to her home. The girls were grieved\nat the thought of leaving their Christian teacher, and of living in a\nheathen home; yet they felt it was their duty to do as their mother\nwished. But they were anxious to be baptized before they went, if they\ncould obtain their mother's consent. Their kind teacher, Miss Grant,\nthought it would be of no use to ask leave _long_ before the time, lest\nthe mother should carry her girls away, and lock them up. So she waited\ntill the very evening fixed for the baptism. Miss Grant had been praying\nall day for help from God, and the two sisters had been praying together;\nand now the bell began to ring for evening service. Now the time was come\nwhen the mother must be asked.\n\n\"Do you know,\" said Miss Grant to the mother, \"that the children are\ngoing to church with me?\" \"Yes,\" replied the mother, \"wherever Missie\npleases to take them.\" Then the lady told her of the baptism, and\nentreated her consent. At last the heathen mother replied, \"If you wish\nit, I will not oppose you.\" Miss Grant, afraid lest the mother should\nchange her mind, hastened into her palanquin, and the sisters hastened\ninto theirs. Looking back, the lady perceived the mother was standing\nwatching the palanquins. Seeing this, she stopped, saying, \"Nomis, why\nshould not you come, and see what is done?\" To the lady's surprise, the\nmother immediately consented to come; and so this heathen mother was\npresent at the baptism of her daughters. Their teacher, (who was their\n_mother in Christ_,) rejoiced with exceeding joy to see her dear girls\ngive themselves to the Lord, and to hear them answer in their broken\nEnglish, \"All _dis_ I do steadfastly believe.\"\n\nSoon after their baptism, the girls went to live in their mother's house.\nTo comfort them, Miss Grant promised to fetch them every Sunday, to spend\nthe day with her. She came for them at five o'clock in the morning,\nbefore it was light, and took them back at nine, when it was quite dark.\nIf she had not fetched them herself, they would not have been allowed to\ngo.\n\nAfter awhile, they were _not_ allowed to go. The reason was, that the\nheathen mother wanted Chun to marry a heathen Chinaman. Chun refused to\ncommit such a sin. Then her mother was angry, mocked her, and prevented\nher going to see Miss Grant. Still Chun refused. She saw her mother\nembroidering her wedding-dresses, but she still persisted that she would\nnot marry a heathen, especially as she would have to bow down before an\nidol at her marriage. Chun grew very unhappy, and looked very pale, she\nwrote many letters to her kind friend, and offered up many prayers to her\nmerciful God. And did the Lord hear her, and did He deliver her? He did.\nA Christian Chinaman, who had been brought up by a missionary, heard of\nChun, and asked permission to marry her. He had never seen her, for it is\nnot the custom in China for girls to be seen.\n\nMiss Grant was delighted at the thought of her darling Chun marrying a\nChristian, and she helped to prepare for the wedding. There was no bowing\ndown before an idol at that wedding, but an English clergymen read the\nservice. Chun's face, according to the custom, was covered with a thick\nveil, and even her hands and feet were hidden. A few days after the\nwedding, Miss Grant, according to the custom, called on the newly\nmarried. She found the room beautifully ornamented, like all Chinese\nrooms at such times, but there were two ornaments seldom seen in\nChina--two Bibles lying open on the table.\n\nChun long rejoiced that she had so firmly refused to marry a heathen. One\nday, Miss Grant said to her, playfully, \"Has your husband beaten you\nyet?\" (for she knew that Chinamen think nothing of beating their wives.)\nChun replied, with a sweet look, \"O no! he often tells me, that _first_\nhe thanks God, and then _you_, Miss, for having given me to him as his\nwife.\"\n\nThere was another girl at Miss Grant's school, named Been. Sometimes she\nwas called Beneo, which means Miss Been, just as Chuneo means Miss Chun.\nMiss Grant hoped that Been loved the Saviour, and hated idols, but she\nsoon lost her, for her parents took her to their heathen home.\n\nAfter Been had been home a short time her mother died. The neighbors were\nastonished to find that Been refused to worship her mother's spirit, and\nto burn gold paper, to supply her with money in the other world. While\nher relations were busily occupied in their heathen ceremonies, Been sat\nsilent and alone. Soon afterwards, her father, who cared not for her,\nsold her to a Chinaman to be his wife, for forty dollars.\n\nMiss Grant heard her sad fate, and often longed to see her, but did not\nknow where to find her. One evening, as she was paying visits in her\npalanquin, she saw a pair of bright black eyes looking through a hedge,\nand she felt sure that they were her own Been's. She stopped, and\ncalling the girl, saluted her affectionately. She was glad she had found\nout where Been lived, as she would now be able to pay her a visit.\n\nSoon she called upon her, in her own dwelling;--a poor little hut in the\nmidst of a sugar plantation. She brought as a present, a New Testament in\nEnglish, and in large print. Been appeared delighted.\n\n\"Do you remember how to read it?\" inquired Miss Grant.\n\n\"Yes, how could I forget?\" Been sweetly replied.\n\n\"Well then, read,\" said Miss Grant.\n\nBeen read, \"I am the good shepherd, and know my sheep.\"\n\n\"Do you understand?\" inquired the lady.\n\n\"Yes,\" said Been, and she translated the words into Malay.\n\nAs Miss Grant was rising to depart, she observed a hen gathering her\nbrood under her wings.\n\n\"Of what does that remind you, Been?\"\n\n\"I know,\" said the poor girl; \"I remember what I learnt at school;\" and\nthen in her broken English, she repeated the words: \"As a hen _gaderet_\nher chickens under her wings, so would I have _gaderd de_, but _dou_\nwouldest not.\"\n\nAt this moment, Been's husband came in. The girl was glad, for she wanted\nMiss Grant to ask him as a great favor, to allow her to spend next Sunday\nat the school. The husband consented. There was a joyful meeting indeed,\non that Sunday, between Been, and Chun, and Han; nor was their\naffectionate teacher the least joyful of the company.\n\n\n\n\nSIBERIA.\n\n\nThis is a name which makes people _shiver_, because it reminds them of\nthe cold. It is a name which makes the Russians _tremble_, because it\nreminds them of banishment, for the emperor often sends those who offend\nhim to live in Siberia.\n\nYet Siberia is not an ugly country, such as Tartary. It is not one dead\nflat, but it contains mountains, and forests, and rivers. Neither is\nSiberia a country in which nothing will grow; in some parts there is\nwheat, and where _wheat_ will not grow _barley_ will, and where _barley_\nwill not grow _turnips_ will. Yet there are not many cornfields in\nSiberia, for very few people live there. In the woods you will find\nblackberries, and wild roses, like those in England; and _red_ berries,\nas well as _black_ berries, and _lilies_ as well as _roses_.\n\nStill it must be owned that Siberia is a very cold country; for the snow\nis not melted till June, and it begins to fall again in September; so\nthere are only two whole months without snow; they are July and August.\n\nINHABITANTS.--The Russians are the masters of Siberia, and they have\nbuilt several large towns there. But these towns are very far apart, and\nthere are many wild tribes wandering about the country.\n\nOne of these tribes is the Ostyaks. Their houses are in the shape of\nboxes, for they are square with flat roofs. There is a door, but you must\nstoop low to get in at it, unless you are a very little child; and there\nis a window with fish-skin instead of light. There is a chimney, too, and\na blazing fire of logs in a hole in the ground. There is a trough, too,\ninstead of a dining-table, and out of it the whole family eat, and even\nthe dogs sometimes. The house is not divided into rooms, but into stalls,\nlike those of a stable; and deer-skins are spread in the stalls, and they\nare the beds; each person sits and sleeps in his own stall, on his own\ndeer-skin, except when the family gather round the fire, and sitting on\nlow stools, warm themselves, and talk together.\n\nIn one of these snug corners, an old woman was seen, quite blind, yet\nsewing all day, and threading her needle by the help of her tongue. She\nwore a veil of thick cloth over her head, as all the Ostyak women do, and\nas she did not need light, she hid her head completely under it.\n\nBut though the Ostyaks are poor, they possess a great treasure in their\ndogs, for these creatures are as useful as horses, and much more\nsensible. They need no whip to make them go, and no bridle to turn them\nthe right way; it is enough to _tell_ them when to set out, and to stop,\nor to turn, to move faster, or more slowly. These dogs are white, spotted\nwith black; the hair on their bodies is short, but long on their handsome\ncurling tails. They draw their masters in sledges, and are yoked in\npairs. There are some large sledges, in which a man can lie down in\ncomfort: to draw such a sledge twelve dogs are necessary; but there are\nsmall sledges in which a poor Ostyak can just manage to crouch, and two\ndogs can draw it. When the dogs are to be harnessed, they are not caught,\nas horses are, but only called. Yet they do not like work better than\nhorses like it, and when they first set out they howl, but grow quiet\nafter a little while.\n\nThe driver is sometimes cruel to these poor dogs, and corrects them for\nthe smallest fault, by throwing a stone at them, or the great club he\nholds in his hand, or at least a snow-ball: if a hungry dog but stoop\ndown to pick up a morsel of food on the road, he is punished in this\nmanner. Yet it must be owned, that the dogs have their faults; they are\ngreedy, and inclined to thieving. To keep food out of their way, the\nOstyaks build store-houses, on the tops of very high poles. The dogs are\nalways on the watch to slip into their master's houses. If the door be\nleft open ever so little, a dog will squeeze in, if he can; but he does\nnot stay _long_ within, for he is soon thrust out with blows and kicks;\nthe women scream at the sight of a dog in the hut, for they fear lest he\nwill find the fish-trough. Yet after long journeys, the dogs are brought\ninto the hut, and permitted to lie down by the fire, and to eat out of\nthe family trough. At other times they sleep in the snow, and eat\nwhatever is thrown to them. When they travel, bags of dried fish are\nbrought in their sledges, to feed them by the way. The puppies are\ntenderly treated, and petted by the fire; yet many are killed for the\nsake of their fleecy hair, which is considered a fine ornament for\npelisses.\n\nThe Ostyaks have another, and a greater treasure than dogs; they have\nreindeer. Those who live by fishing have dogs only, but those who dwell\namong the hills, have deer as well as dogs. Reindeer are like dogs in one\nrespect, they can be driven without either a whip or a bit, which are so\nnecessary for horses. But though they do not need the lashing of a whip;\nthey require to be gently poked with a long pole; and though they do not\nneed a bit, they require to be guided by a rein, fastened to their\nheads; because they are not like dogs, so sensible as to be managed by\nspeaking.\n\nBut deer are very gentle, and are much more easily driven than horses. To\ndrive horses four-in-hand is very difficult, but to drive four reindeer\nis not. The four deer are harnessed to the sledge all in a row, and a\nrein is fastened to the head of one; when _he_ turns all the rest turn\nwith him. Usually they trot, but they _can_ gallop very fast, even down\nhill. When they are out of breath the driver lets them stop, and then the\npretty creatures lie down, and cool their mouths with the snow lying on\nthe ground.\n\nMen ride upon reindeer; not upon their _backs_, but on their _necks_; for\ntheir backs are weak, while their necks are strong. Riders do not mount\nreindeer as they do horses,--by resting on their backs, and then making a\nspring, for that would hurt the poor animals; they lean on a long staff,\nand by its help, spring on the deer's neck. But it is not easy, when\nseated, to keep on; _you_ would certainly fall off, for all strangers do,\nwhen they try to ride for the _first_ time. The Ostyak knows how to keep\nhis balance, by waving his long staff in the air, while the deer trots\nbriskly along. But these reindeer have some curious fancies; they will\nnot eat any food but such as they pluck themselves from the ground. It\nwould be of no use at the end of a long journey, to put them in a\nstable;--they would not eat; they must be let loose to find their own\nnourishment, which is a kind of moss that grows wild among the hills.\n\nThe reindeer, after he is dead, is of as much use to the Ostyak, as when\nhe was alive; for his skin is his master's clothing. Both men and women\ndress alike, in a suit that covers them from head to foot; the seams are\nwell joined with thread, made of reindeer sinews, and the cold is kept\nwell out. The Ostyak lets no part of his body be uncovered but just his\nface, and that would freeze, if he were not to rub it often with his\nhands, covered over with hairy reindeer gloves. The women cover their\nfaces with thick veils. The Ostyak wears a great-coat made of the skin of\na white deer; this gives him the appearance of a great white bear. He\ncarries in his hand a bow taller than himself. His arrows are very long,\nand made of wood, pointed with iron. With these he shoots the wild\nanimals. He is very glad when he can shoot a sable; because the Russian\nemperor requires every Ostyak to give him yearly, as a tax, the skins of\ntwo sables. The fur of the sable is very valuable, and is made into muffs\nand tippets, and pelisses for the Russian nobles.\n\nBut without his snow-shoes, the Ostyak would not be able to pursue the\nwild animals, for he would sink in the snow. These shoes are made of long\nboards, turned up at the end like a boat, and fastened to the feet. What\na wild creature an Ostyak must look, when he is hunting his prey, wrapped\nin his shaggy white coat,--his long dark hair floating in the wind,--his\nenormous bow in his hand, and his enormous shoes on his feet!\n\nWhat is the character of this wild man? Ask what is his religion, and\nthat will show you how foolish and fierce a creature he must be. The\nOstyak says, that he believes in ONE God who cannot be seen, but he does\nnot worship him _alone_; he worships other gods. And such gods! Dead men!\nWhen a man dies, his relations make a wooden image of him, and worship it\nfor three years, and then bury it. But when a _priest_ dies, his wooden\nimage is worshipped _more_ than three years; sometimes it is _never_\nburied; for the priests who are alive, encourage the people to go on\nworshipping dead priests' images, that they may get the offerings which\nare made to them.\n\nBut what do you think of men worshipping DEAD BEASTS? Yet this is what\nthe Ostyaks do. When they have killed a wolf or a bear, they stuff its\nskin with hay, and gather round to mock it, to kick it, to spit upon it,\nand then--they stick it up on its hind legs in a corner of the hut, and\nWORSHIP it! Alas! how has Satan blinded their mind!\n\nAnd in what manner do they worship the beasts? With screaming,--with\ndancing,--with swinging their swords,--by making offerings of fur, of\nsilver and gold, and of reindeer. These reindeer they kill very cruelly,\nby stabbing them in various parts of their bodies, to please the cruel\ngods, or rather cruel devils whom they worship.\n\nHas no one tried to convert the Ostyaks to God? The emperor of Russia\nwill not allow protestant missionaries to teach in Siberia. He wishes the\nOstyaks to belong to the Greek church, and he has tried to bribe them\nwith presents of cloth to be baptized; and a good many have been\nbaptized. But what good can such baptisms do to the soul?\n\nThe Russians do much harm to their subjects, by tempting them to buy\nbrandy. There is nothing which the Ostyaks are so eager to obtain, as\nthis dangerous drink. On one occasion, a traveller was surrounded by a\ntroop of Ostyaks, all begging for brandy, and when they could get none,\nthey brought a large heap of frozen fish, and laid it at the travellers\nfeet, saying, \"Noble sir, we present you with this.\" They did get some\nbrandy in return. Then, hoping for more, they brought a great salmon, and\na sturgeon, as long as a man. They seemed ready to part with all they\nhad, for the sake of brandy.\n\nThus you see how much harm the Ostyaks have learned from their\nacquaintance with the Russians. The chief good they have got, has been\nlearning to build houses; for once they lived only in tents.\n\n\nTHE SAMOYEDES.\n\nThis tribe lives so far to the north, that they see very little of the\nRussians, though they belong to the emperor of Russia. They live close by\nthe Northern Sea. Imagine how very cold it must be. The Samoyedes inhabit\ntents made of reindeer skins, such as the Ostyaks used to live in. They\nare a much wilder people than the Ostyaks. The women dress in a strange\nfantastic manner; not contented with a reindeer dress, as the Ostyaks\nare, they join furs and skins of various sorts together; and instead of\nveiling their faces, they wear a gay fur hat, with lappets; and at the\nback of their necks a glutton's tail hangs down, as well as long tails of\ntheir own hair, with brass rings jingling together at the end.\n\nBut if their taste in _dress_ is laughable, their taste in _food_ is\nhorrible, as you will see. A traveller went with a Samoyede family for a\nlittle while. They were drawn by reindeer, in sledges, and other reindeer\nfollowed of their own accord. When they stopped for the night, they\npitched the tent, covering the long poles with their reindeer skins,\nsewed together. The snow covered the ground inside the tent, but no one\nthought of sweeping it away. It was easy to get water to fill the kettle,\nas a few lumps of snow soon melted. Some of the men slept by the blazing\nfire, while others went out, armed with long poles, to defend the deer\nfrom the wolves. There was in the party a child of two years old, with\nits mother. The child was allowed to help himself to porridge out of the\ngreat kettle. The traveller offered him white sugar; but at first he\ncalled it snow, and threw it away; soon, however, he learned to like it,\nand asked for some whenever he saw the stranger at tea. At night, the\nchild was laid in a long basket, and was closely covered with furs; in\nthe same basket also, he travelled in the sledge.\n\nOne day the traveller saw a Samoyede feast. A reindeer was brought, and\nkilled before the tent door; and its bleeding body was taken into the\ntent, and devoured, all raw as it was, with the heartiest appetite. It\nwas dreadful to see the Samoyedes gnawing the flesh off the bones; their\nfaces all stained with blood, and even the child had his share of the raw\nmeat. Truly they looked more like wolves than men.\n\nI might go on to tell you of many other tribes; but I must be content\njust to mention a few.\n\nThere is a tribe who live in the eastern part of Siberia, called the\nYakuts, and instead of deer, and dogs, they keep horses, and oxen, and\nstrange to say, they _ride_ upon the oxen; and _eat_ the horses. A\nhorse's head is counted by them a most dainty dish. The cows live in one\nroom, and the family live in the next, with the calves, which are tied to\nposts by the fire, and enjoy the full blaze. You may suppose that the\ncalves need the warmth of the fire, when I tell you that the windows of\nthe house are made of ice, but that the cold is so great, that the ice\ndoes not melt.\n\nThere is a large tribe called the Buraets. They dwell in tents. They are\nBuddhists. At one time the Russians allowed missionaries to go to them.\nThere was an old man named Andang, who used to attend the services very\nregularly. His wife accompanied him. One Sunday the preacher spoke much\nof heaven and its glories. The old woman, on returning to her tent, said\nto her husband, \"Old man, I am going home to-night.\" Her husband did not\nunderstand her meaning: then she said, \"I love Jesus Christ, and I think\nI shall be with him to-night.\" She lay down in her tent that night, but\nrose no more. In the morning, the old man found her stiff and cold. He\nsaddled his horse, and set off to tell the missionary. \"O sir,\" said he,\nwith tears, \"my wife is gone home.\" When the missionary heard the account\nof her death, he felt cheered by the hope that the old woman, though born\na heathen, had died a Christian, and had left her tent to dwell in a\nglorious mansion above; for how was it that she felt no fear of death,\nand how was it that she felt heaven was her home? Was it not because\nJesus loved her, and because she loved Jesus?\n\n\nTHE BANISHED RUSSIANS.\n\nSiberia is the land to which the emperor sends many of his people, when\nthey displease him. In passing through Siberia, you would often see\nwagons full of women, children, and old men, followed by a troop of young\nmen, and guarded by a band of soldiers on horseback. You might know them\nto be the banished Russians. What is to become of them? Some are to work\nin the mines, and some are to work in the factories. Some are to have a\nless heavy punishment; they are to be set free, in the midst of Siberia,\nto support themselves in any way they can. Gentlemen and ladies have a\nsmall sum of money allowed them by the emperor, and they live in the\ntowns.\n\nThese people are called in Siberia, \"the unfortunates.\" Some of them have\nnot deserved to be banished; but some have been guilty of crimes.\n\nCITIES.\n\nThere are a few cities in Siberia, but only a few, and they have been\nbuilt by the Russians.\n\nThe three chief cities are,--\n\n    Tobolsk, on the west, on the river Oby.\n    Irkutsk, in the midst, on the lake Baikal.\n    Yarkutsk, on the east, on the river Lena.\n\nOF THESE CITIES,\n\n    Tobolsk is the handsomest.\n    Irkutsk is the pleasantest.\n    Yarkutsk is the coldest.\n\nIt is not surprising that Tobolsk should be the handsomest, for there the\ngovernor of Siberia resides.\n\nA great many Chinese come to Irkutsk to trade, and they bring quantities\nof tea.\n\nYarkutsk is the coldest town in the world; there may be others nearer the\nnorth, but none lie exposed to such cold winds. The inhabitants scarcely\ndare admit the light, for fear of increasing the cold; and they make only\none or two very small windows in their houses. Yet in summer vegetables\ngrow freely in the gardens.\n\n    The Ostyaks live near the Oby.\n    The Buraets live near lake Baikal.\n    The Yakuts live near the Lena.\n\n\nTHE URAL MOUNTAINS.\n\nThey are full of treasures; gold, silver, iron, copper, and precious\nstones. They are dug up by the banished Russians, and sent in great\nwagons to Russia, to increase the riches of the emperor.\n\n\n\n\nKAMKATKA.\n\n\nIt is impossible to look at Siberia, without being struck with the shape\nof Kamkatka, which juts out like a short arm. It is a peninsula. A\nbeautiful country it is; full of mountains, and rivers, and woods, and\nwaterfalls, and not as cold as might be expected. But there are not many\npeople dwelling in it; for though it is larger than Great Britain, all\nthe inhabitants might be contained in one of our small towns. And why\nare there so few in so fine a country? Because the people love brandy\nbetter than labor. They have been corrupted by the Russian soldiers, and\ntraders, and convicts, and they are sickening and dying away.\n\nA traveller once said to a Kamkatdale, \"How should you like to see a ship\narrive here from China, laden with tea and sugar?\" \"I should like it\nwell,\" replied the man, \"but there is one thing I should like better--to\nsee a ship arrive full of _men_; it is men we want, for our men are sick;\nof the twelve here, six are too weak to hunt or fish.\"\n\nBut the ship that would do the most good to Kamkatka, is a missionary\nship. The Greek church is the religion; but _no_ religion is much thought\nof in Kamkatka; hunting and fishing only are cared for. Yet I fear if\nmissionaries were to go to Kamkatka, the emperor of Russia would send\nthem away.\n\nWhere there are few men, there are generally many beasts and birds; this\nis the case in Kamkatka.\n\nOne of the most curious animals in Siberia, is the Argalis, or mountain\nsheep. It is remarkable for its enormous horns, curled in a very curious\nmanner. Think not it is like one of our quiet, foolish sheep; there is no\nanimal at once so strong and so active. It is such a climber, that no\nwolf or bear can follow it to the high places, hanging over awful\nprecipices, where it walks as firmly as you do upon the pavement.\nSometimes a hunter finds it among the mountains, and just as he is going\nto shoot it, the creature disappears:--it has thrown itself down a\nprecipice! Is it dashed to pieces? No, it fell unhurt, and has escaped\nwithout a bruise; for its bones are very strong, and its skin very thick.\n\nThe bears of Kamkatka live chiefly upon fish and berries, and seldom\nattack men. Yet men hunt them for their skins, and for their fat. The\nskins make cloaks, and the fat is used for lamps; but their flesh is\nthrown to the dogs. Many of the bears are very thin. It is only _fat_\nbears that can sleep all the winter in their dens without food; _thin_\nbears cannot sleep long, and even in winter they prowl about for food.\nDogs are very much afraid of them. A large party of travellers, who were\nriding in sledges, drawn by dogs, observed the dogs suddenly begin to\nsnuff the air, and lo! immediately afterwards, a bear at full speed\ncrossed the road, and ran towards a forest. Great confusion took place\namong the dogs; they set off with all their might; some broke their\nharness, others got entangled among the trees, and overturned their\nsledges. But the bear did not escape; for the travellers shot him through\nthe leg, and afterwards through the body; and the dogs feasted on _his_\nflesh, instead of the bear feasting on _theirs_.\n\nHunting seals is one of the occupations of the Kamkatdales. Three men in\nsledges, each sledge drawn by five dogs, once got upon a large piece of\nice, near the shore. They had killed two seals upon the ice, when they\nsuddenly perceived that the ice was moving, and carrying them out to sea.\nThey were already too far from land, to be able to get back. They knew\nnot what would become of them, and much they feared they should perish\nfrom cold and hunger. The ice was so slippery that they were in great\ndanger of sliding into the sea. To prevent this, they stuck their long\npoles deep into the ice, and tied themselves to the poles. They were\ndriven about for many days; but one morning,--to their great joy, they\nfound they were close to the shore. They did not forget to praise God for\nso mercifully saving their lives; though they were so weak from want of\nfood, as scarcely to be able to creep ashore.\n\nCHARACTER.--The Kamkatdales are generous and grateful. A poor family will\nsometimes receive another family into the house for six weeks; and when\nthe food is nearly gone, the generous host, not liking to tell his\nvisitors of it, serves up a dish of different sorts of meat and\nvegetables, mixed together; the visitors know this is a sign that the\nfood is almost exhausted, and they take their leave.\n\nDid I say the Kamkatdales are grateful? I will give you an instance of\ntheir gratitude. A traveller met a poor boy. He remembered his face, and\nsaid, \"I think I have seen you before.\" \"You have,\" said the boy; \"I\nrowed you down the river last summer, and you were so kind as to give me\na skin, and some flints; and now I have brought the skin of a sable as a\npresent for you.\" The traveller, perceiving the boy had no shirt, and\nthat his skin dress was tattered, refused the present; but seeing the boy\nwas going away in tears, he called him back, and accepted it. A Chinese\nservant, who was standing by, pitied so much the ragged condition of the\nboy, that he gave him one of his own thin nankin shirts.\n\n\n\n\nTHIBET.\n\n\nI cannot tell you much about Thibet; and the reason is, that so few\ntravellers have been there. And why have so few been there? Is it because\nthe mountains are so steep and high, the paths so narrow and dangerous?\nAll this is true; but it is not mountains that keep travellers out of\nThibet; it is the Chinese government; for Thibet belongs to China, and\nyou know how carefully the emperor of China keeps strangers out of his\nempire.\n\nHow did the Chinese get possession of Thibet? A long while ago, a Hindoo\narmy invaded the land, and the people in their fright sent to China for\nhelp. The Chinese came, drove away the Hindoos, and stayed themselves.\nThey are not hard masters, they govern very mildly; only they require a\nsum of money to be sent every year to Pekin, as tribute.\n\nBut though Thibet belongs to China, the Chinese language is not spoken\nthere.\n\nThe people are like the Tartars in appearance; they have the same bony\nface, sharp black eye, and straight black hair; but a much fresher\ncomplexion, owing to the fresh mountain air they breathe.\n\nThe Himalaya mountains, the highest in Asia, lie between Thibet and\nHindostan. Their peaks are always covered with snow, and rapid streams\npour down the rugged sides. The snow on the mountain-tops makes Thibet\nvery cold; but there are warm valleys where grapes, and even rice\nflourish.\n\nThe people build their houses in the warmest spots they can find; they\ntry to find a place sheltered from the north wind, by a high rock, and\nlying open to the south sun. Their dwellings are only made of stones,\nheaped together, and the roofs are flat. Their riches consist in flocks\nof sheep and goats. They have, another animal, which is not known in\nEngland, and yet a very useful creature, because, like a cow, it yields\nrich milk, and like a horse, it carries burdens. This animal is called\nthe Yak, and resembles both a horse and a cow. Its chief beauty is its\ntail, which is much finer than a horse's tail, and is black, and glossy,\nsoft and flowing. Many of these tails are sent to India, where they are\nused as fly-flappers.\n\nThe sheep and goats of Thibet are more useful than ours; for they are\ntaught to carry burdens over the mountains. They may be seen following\neach other in long trains, with large packs fastened on their little\nbacks, and climbing up very narrow and steep paths.\n\nAnd what is in these packs? Wool: not sheep's wool, but goat's wool: for\nthe goats of Thibet have very fine wool under their hair. No such wool is\nfound on any other goats. But though the people of Thibet can weave\ncommon cloth, they cannot weave this beautiful wool, as it deserves to be\nwoven. Therefore they send it to a country the other side of the Himalaya\nmountains, called Cashmere; and there it is woven into the most beautiful\nshawls in all the world.\n\nBut wool is not the only riches of Thibet. There is gold to be found\nthere; some in large pieces, and some in small dust. There are also large\nmines of copper. And what use is made of these riches? The worst in the\nworld. With the gold and copper many IDOLS are made; for Thibet is a land\nof idols. The religion is the same there as in China,--the Buddhist;--and\nthat is a religion of idols.\n\nBut there is an idol in Thibet, which there is not in China. It is a\nLIVING IDOL. He is called the Grand Lama. There are Lamas in Tartary, but\nthe GRAND Lama is in Thibet. He is looked up to as the greatest being in\nthe world, by all the Lamas in Tartary, and by all the people of the\nBuddhist religion. There are more people,--a _great many_ more,--who\nhonor _him_, than who honor our GREAT GOD.\n\nBut this man leads a miserable life. When one Lama dies, another is\nchosen;--some little baby,--and he is placed in a very grand palace, and\nworshipped as a god all his life long. I have heard of one of these baby\nLamas, who, when only eighteen months old, sat up with great majesty on\nhis pile of cushions. When strangers entered, he looked at them kindly,\nand when they made a speech to him, he bowed his little head very\ngraciously. What a sad fate for this poor infant! To be set up as a god,\nand taught to think himself a god--while all the time he is a helpless,\nfoolish, sinful, dying creature!\n\n\nLASSA.\n\nThis is the chief city of Thibet. Here is the palace of the Grand Lama.\nIf is of enormous size. What do you think of TEN THOUSAND rooms? Did you\never hear of so _large_ a house? Neither did you ever hear of so _high_ a\nhouse. It is almost as high as the pinnacle of St. Paul's church. There\nare seven stories, and on the highest story are the state apartments of\nthe Grand Lama. It is no matter to him how many flights of stairs there\nmay be to reach his rooms; for he is never allowed to walk; but it is\nfatiguing for his worshippers to ascend so high. I suppose the priests\nmake their Grand Lama live so high up, that he may be like our God who\ndwells in the highest heavens. Who occupy the ten thousand rooms of the\npalace? Chiefly idols of gold and silver. The house outside is richly\nadorned, and its roof glitters with gold.\n\nThere are many magnificent houses in Thibet, where priests live. No one\ncould live with them, who could not bear a great noise: for three times a\nday the priests meet to worship, and each time they hollo with all their\nmight, to do honor to Buddha. The noise is stunning, but they do not\nthink it loud enough; so on feast days, they use copper instruments, such\nas drums and trumpets, of the most enormous size, and with them they send\nforth an overwhelming sound.\n\nThis unmeaning noise may well remind us of a sound--louder far--that\nshall one day be heard; so loud that _all the world_ will hear it. It is\nthe sound of the LAST TRUMPET! It will wake the dead. Stout hearts will\nquail; devils will tremble; but all those who love the Lord, will rejoice\nand say, \"Lo, this is our God; we have waited for Him, and He will save\nus.\"--(Is. xxv. 9.)\n\n\n\n\nCEYLON.\n\n\nThis is one of the most beautiful islands in the world. Part of it indeed\nis flat--that part near Hindustan; but in the midst--there are mountains;\nand streams running down their sides, and swelling into lovely rivers,\nwinding along the fruitful valleys. Such scenes might remind you of\nSwitzerland, the most beautiful country in Europe.\n\nThe chief beauty of Ceylon is her TREES.\n\nI will mention a few of the beautiful, curious, and useful trees of this\ndelightful island. The tree for which Ceylon is celebrated, is the\nCINNAMON tree. For sixty miles along the shore, there are cinnamon\ngroves, and the sweet scent may be perceived far off upon the seas. If\nyou were to see a cinnamon-tree, you might mistake it for a laurel;--a\ntree so often found in English gardens. The cinnamon-trees are never\nallowed to grow tall, because it is only the upper branches which are\nmuch prized for their bark. The little children of Ceylon may often be\nseen sitting in the shade, peeling off the bark with their knives; and\nthis bark is afterwards sent to England to flavor puddings, and to mix\nwith medicine.\n\nThere are also groves of cocoa-nut trees on the shores of Ceylon. A few\nof these trees are a little fortune to a poor man; for he can eat the\n_fruit_, build his house with the _wood_, roof it with the _leaves_, make\ncups of the _shell_, and use the oil of the _kernel_ instead of candles.\n\nThe JACK-TREE bears a larger fruit than any other in the world;--as large\nas a horse's head,--and so heavy that a woman can only carry one upon her\nhead to market.. This large fruit does not hang on the tree by a stalk,\nbut grows out of the trunk, or the great branches. This is well arranged,\nfor so large a fruit would be too heavy for a stalk, and might fall off,\nand hurt the heads of those sitting beneath its shade. The outside of\nthis fruit is like a horse-chestnut, green, and prickly; the inside is\nyellow, and is full of kernels, like beans. The wood is like\nmahogany,--hard and handsome.\n\nBut there is a tree in Ceylon, still more curious than the jack-tree. It\nis the TALPOT-TREE. This is a very tall tree, and its top is covered by a\ncluster of round leaves, each leaf so large, that it would do for a\ncarpet, for a common-sized room; and one single LEAF, cut it in\nthree-cornered pieces, will make a TENT! When cut up, the leaves are used\nfor fans and books. But this tree bears no fruit till just before it\ndies,--that is till it is _fifty_ years old: THEN--an enormous bud is\nseen, rearing its huge head in the midst of the crown of leaves;--the bud\nbursts with a loud noise, and a yellow flower appears,--a flower so\nlarge, that it would fill a room! The flower turns into fruit. THAT SAME\nYEAR THE TREE DIES!\n\nPEOPLE.--And who are the people who live in this beautiful land?\n\nIn the flat part of the island, towards the north, the people resemble\nthe Hindoos, and speak and think like them; and they are called Tamuls.\n\nBut among the mountains of the south a different kind of people live,\ncalled the Cingalese. They do not speak the Tamul language, nor do they\nfollow the Hindoo religion. They follow the Buddhist religion. You know\nthis is the religion of the greater part of the nations. Ceylon is full\nof the temples of Buddha. In each temple there is an inner dark room,\nvery large, where Buddha's image is kept,--a great image that almost\nfills the room.\n\n[Illustration: DEVIL PRIESTS.]\n\nThe priests in their yellow cloaks, with their shaven heads and bare\nfeet, may be seen every morning begging from door to door; but _proud_\nbeggars they are,--not condescending to _speak_,--but only standing with\ntheir baskets ready to receive rice and fruit; and the only thanks they\ngive--are their blessings.\n\nThere is another worship in Ceylon, and it is more followed than the\nworship of Buddha, yet it is the most horrible that you can imagine. It\nis the worship of the DEVIL! Buddha taught, when he was alive, that there\nwas no God, but that there were many devils: yet he forbid people to\nworship these devils; but no one minds what he said on that point.\n\nThere are many _devil priests_. When any one is sick, it is supposed that\nthe devil has caused the sickness, and a devil priest is sent for. And\nwhat can the priest do? He dances,--he sings,--with his face\npainted,--small bells upon his legs,--and a flaming torch in each hand;\nwhile another man beats a loud drum. He dances, he sings--all night\nlong,--sometimes changing his white jacket for a black, or his black for\na white,--sometimes falling down, and sometimes jumping up,--sometimes\nreeling, and sometimes running,--and all this he does to please the\ndevil, and to coax him to come out of the sick person. This is what he\n_pretends_;--but in _reality_, he seeks to get money by his tricks. The\npeople are very fond of these devil-dancers; it _tires_ them to listen to\nthe Buddhist priests, mumbling out of their books, the five hundred and\nfifty histories of Buddha; but it _delights_ them to watch all night the\nantics of a devil priest.\n\nWhat is the character of these deceived people? They are polite, and\nobliging, but as deceitful as their own priests. They are not even\n_sincere_ in their wrong religion, but are ready to _pretend_ to be of\nany religion which is most convenient. The Portuguese once were masters\nof Ceylon, and they tried to make the people Roman Catholics. Then the\nDutch came, who tried to force them to be Protestants. Many infants were\nbaptized, who grew up to be heathen priests. Now the English are masters\nof Ceylon; they do not _oblige_ the people to be Christians, yet many\npretend to be Christians who are not.\n\nA man was once asked, \"Are you a Buddhist?\"\n\n\"No,\" he replied.\n\n\"Are you a Mahomedan?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Are you a Roman Catholic?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"What is your religion?\"\n\n\"Government religion.\"\n\nSuch was his answer. This man had no religion at all,--he only wished to\nobtain the favor of the governor. But will he obtain the favor of the\nGovernor of the world, the King of kings?\n\nWe have said nothing yet about the appearance of the Cingalese. Both men\nand women wear a piece of cloth wound round their waists, called a\ncomboy; but they do not, like the Hindoos, twist it over their shoulders;\nthey wear a jacket instead. Neither do the men wear turbans, as in India,\nbut they fasten their hair with a comb, while the women fasten theirs\nwith long pins. The Cingalese ladies and gentlemen imitate the English\ndress, especially when they come to a party at the English Governor's\nhouse. Then they wear shoes and stockings instead of sandals; the\ngentlemen contrive to place a hat over their long hair, by first taking\nout the combs; yet they still wind a comboy over their English clothes.\nThe Hindoos do not thus imitate the English, for they are too proud of\ntheir own customs. Hindoo ladies never go into company; but Cingalese\nladies may be seen at parties, arrayed in colored satin jackets, and\nadorned with golden hair-pins, and diamond necklaces.\n\nYou have heard of the foolish ideas the Hindoos entertain about castes.\nIt is the Brahmin priests who teach _them_ these opinions. The Buddhist\npriests say nothing about castes; yet the Cingalese have castes of their\n_own_; but not the _same_ castes as the Hindoos. There are twenty-one\ncastes in all; the highest caste consists of the husbandmen, and the\nlowest of the mat-weavers.\n\nBelow the lowest caste, are the OUTCASTS! The poor outcasts live in\nvillages by themselves, hated by all. When they meet any one, who are not\noutcasts, they go as near to the hedge as they can, with their hands on\nthe top of their heads, to show their respect. These poor creatures are\naccustomed to be treated as if they were dogs. What pride there is in\nman's heart! How is it one poor worm can lift himself up so high above\nhis fellow-worm, though both are made of the same dust, and shall lie\ndown in the same dust together!\n\n\nKANDY.\n\nThis town is built among the high mountains. It was built there for the\nsame reason that the eagle builds her nest on the top of a tall rock,--to\nget out of the reach of enemies. But the proud king, who once dwelt\nthere, has been conquered, and now England's Queen rules over Ceylon. No\nwonder that the proud king had enemies, for he was a monster of cruelty.\nHis palace is still to be seen. See that high tower, and that open\ngallery at the top! There the _last king_ used to stand to enjoy the\nsight of his subjects' agonies. Those who had offended him were killed in\nthe Court below,--killed not in a common manner, but in all kinds of\nbarbarous ways,--such as by being cut in pieces, or by swallowing melted\nlead. At length the Cingalese invited the English to come and deliver\nthem from their tyrant; the English came and shut him up in prison till\nhe died, and now an English governor rules over Ceylon.\n\nThe greatest curiosity to be seen at Kandy is a TOOTH! a tooth that the\npeople say was taken out of the mouth of their Buddha. It is kept in a\nsplendid temple on a golden table, in a golden box of great size. There\nare seven boxes one inside the other, and in the innermost box, wrapped\nup in gold, there is a piece of ivory, the size of a man's thumb,--that\nis the tooth of Buddha! Every day it is worshipped, and offerings of\nfruit and flowers are presented.\n\n\nCOLOMBO.\n\nThis is the chief _English_ town of Ceylon, as Kandy is the chief\n_Cingalese_ town. The English governor lives here, but he has a house at\nKandy too, where he may enjoy the cool mountain air. There is a fine road\nfrom Colombo to Kandy, broader and harder than, English roads; yet it is\nout through steep mountains, and winds by dangerous precipices. But there\nare laborers in Ceylon stronger than any in England. I mean the\nELEPHANTS. It is curious to see this huge animal meekly walking along\nwith a plank across its tusks, or dragging wagons full of large stones.\nAmong the mountains there are herds of _wild_ elephants, sometimes a\nhundred may be seen in one herd. There are no elephants in the world as\ncourageous as those of Ceylon, yet they are very obedient when tamed. If\nyou wished to visit the mountains, you might safely ride upon the back of\nthe sure-footed elephant, and all your brothers and sisters, however\nmany, might ride with you.\n\nMISSIONARIES.--There are some in Ceylon, and some of the heathens have\nobeyed their voice.\n\nThere was once a devil priest. Having been detected in some crime, he was\nimprisoned at Kandy, and while in prison he read a Christian tract, and\nwas converted. Thus (like Onesimus, of whom we read in the Bible,) he\nescaped from _Satan's_ prison, while shut up in _man's_ prison. When he\nwas set free, he was baptized by the missionary at Kandy, and he chose to\nbe called Abraham. What name did he choose for his son, a boy of\nfourteen? Isaac. He buried his conjuring books, though he might have sold\nthem for eight pounds. His cottage was in a village fifteen miles from\nKandy. He had left it--a _wicked_ man; lib returned to it a _good_ man.\n\nAfter some time, a missionary went to visit Abraham in his cottage. A\ngood Cingalese was his guide. The walk there was beautiful, along narrow\npaths, amidst fields of rice, through dark thickets, and long grass. No\none in Abraham's village had ever seen the fair face of an Englishman;\nand the sight of the missionary alarmed the inhabitants. Abraham's family\nwas the only Christian family in that place. How glad Abraham felt at the\nsight of the missionary,--almost as glad as the _first_ Abraham felt at\nthe sight of the three angels. When the missionary entered, Abraham was\nteaching his wife, for she was soon to be baptized. By what name? By the\nname of Sarah. There were seven children in the family. How hard it must\nbe for Abraham to bring them up as Christians, in the midst of his\nheathen neighbors. Even his brothers hate him, wound his cattle, and\nbreak down his fences. Once they pointed a gun at him, but it did not go\noff. Abraham's comfort is to walk over to Kandy every Saturday, to\nworship God there on Sunday with the Christians; and he does not find\nfifteen miles too far for his willing feet. May the Lord preserve\nAbraham, faithful in the midst of the wicked.\n\n\n\n\nBORNEO.\n\n\nThis is the largest island in the world, except one. Borneo is of a\ndifferent shape from our Britain, but if you could join Britain and\nIreland in one, both together would not be as large as Borneo. Yet how\nunlike is Borneo to Britain! Britain is a Christian island. Borneo is a\nheathen island. Yet Borneo is not an island of _idols_, as Ceylon is.\n_All_ heathens do not worship idols. I will tell you who live in Borneo,\nand you will see why there are so few idols there.\n\nMany people have come from Malacca, and settled in Borneo; so the island\nis full of Malays. These people have a cunning and cruel look, and no\nwonder;--for many of them are PIRATES! It is a common custom in Borneo to\ngo out in a large boat,--to watch for smaller boats,--to seize them--to\nbind the men in chains, and to bring them home as slaves. There are no\nseas in the world so dangerous to sail in, as the seas near Borneo, not\nonly on account of the rocks, but on account of the great number of\npirates. What is the religion of Borneo? It is Mahomedanism. But the\nMalays do not follow the laws of Mahomet as the Turks do. They do not\nmind the hours of prayer, nor do they attend regularly at the mosque.\nThis is not surprising, for they do not understand the Koran. Mahomet\nwrote in Arabic, and the Malays do not understand Arabic. Why do they not\nget the Koran translated? Mahomet did not wish the book to be translated.\nWhy then do not the Malays learn Arabic? I wonder they do not, but I\nsuppose they are too idle, and too careless. The boys go to school and\nlearn to read and write their own easy language--the Malay; and they\nlearn also to repeat whole chapters of the Koran, but without\nunderstanding a word. Still they think it a great advantage to know these\nchapters, because they imagine that by repeating them, they can drive\naway evil spirits.\n\nThe Malays observe Mahomet's law against eating pork; but many of them\ndrink wine, though Mahomet forbids it. However, they follow Mahomet in\nnot having dancing at their feasts; indeed, their behavior at feasts is\nsober and orderly, for they amuse themselves chiefly by singing, and\nrepeating poems. They have only two meals a day, and they live chiefly\nupon rice, which they eat, sitting cross-legged on the floor. They get\ntea from China, and drink many cups during the day, in the same way as\nthe Chinese.\n\nThe ladies are treated like the ladies of Turkey, and shut up in their\nhouses, to spend their time in folly and idleness.\n\nThe men scarcely work at all, but employ the slaves they have stolen at\nsea, to labor in their fields. Their houses are not better than barns,\nand not nearly as strong; for the sides and roof are generally made only\nof large leaves. They are built upon posts, as in Siam. It is well to be\nout of the reach of the leeches, crawling on the ground.\n\nThe Malays dress in loose clothes, trowsers, and jacket, and broad sash;\nthe women are wrapped in a loose garment, and wear their glossy black\nhair flowing over their shoulders. The rich men dress magnificently, and\nquite cover their jackets with gold, while the ladies delight to sparkle\nwith jewels.\n\n\nBRUNI.\n\nThis is the capital. It is often called Borneo, and it is written down in\nthe maps by this name. It is one of the most curious cities in the world;\nfor most of the houses are built in the river, and most of the streets\nare only water. Every morning a great market is held on the water. The\npeople come in boats from all the country round, bringing fruit and\nvegetables to sell, and they paddle up and down the city till they have\nsold their goods.\n\nThe Sultan's palace is built upon the bank, close to the water; and the\nfront of his palace is open; so that it is easy to come in a boat, and to\ngaze upon him, as he sits cross-legged on his throne, arrayed in purple\nsatin, glittering with gold.\n\nThere is a mosque in Bruni; but it is built only of brick, and has\nnothing in it but a wooden pulpit; and hardly anybody goes there, though\na man stands outside making a loud noise on a great drum, to invite\npeople to come in.\n\n\nTHE DYAKS.\n\nThese are a savage people who inhabit Borneo. They lived there before the\nMalays came, and they have been obliged to submit to them. They are\nsavages indeed. They are darker than the Malays; yet they are not black;\ntheir skin is only the color of copper. Their hair is cut short in front,\nbut streams down their backs; their large mouths show a quantity of black\nteeth, made black by chewing the betel-nut. They wear very little\nclothing, but they adorn their ears, and arms, and legs, with numbers of\nbrass rings. Their looks are wild and fierce, but not cunning like the\nlooks of the Malays. They are not Mahomedans; they have hardly any\nreligion at all. They believe there are some gods, but they know hardly\nanything about them, and they do not want to know. They neither make\nimages to the gods, nor say prayers to them. They live like the beasts,\nthinking only of this life; yet they are more unhappy than beasts, for\nthey imagine there are evil spirits among the woods and hills, watching\nto do them harm. It is often hard to persuade them to go to the top of a\nmountain, where they say evil spirits dwell. Such a people would be more\nready to listen to a missionary than those who have idols, and temples,\nand priests, and sacred books.\n\nTheir wickedness is very great. It is their chief delight to get the\nheads of their enemies. There are a great many different tribes of Dyaks,\nand each tribe tries to cut off the heads of other tribes. The Dyaks who\nlive by the sea are the most cruel; they go out in the boats to rob, and\nto bring home, not _slaves_, but HEADS! And how do they treat a head when\nthey get it? They take out the brains, and then they dry it in the smoke,\nwith the flesh and hair still on; then they put a string through it, and\nfasten it to their waists. The evening that they have got some new heads,\nthe warriors dance with delight,--their heads dangling by their\nsides;--and they turn round in the dance, and gaze upon their heads,--and\nshout,--and yell with triumph! At night they still keep the heads near\nthem; and in the day, they play with them, as children with their dolls,\ntalking to them, putting food in their mouths, and the betel-nut between\ntheir ghastly lips. After wearing the heads many days, they hang them up\nto the ceilings of their rooms.\n\nNo English lord thinks so much of his pictures, as the Dyaks do of their\nheads. They think these heads are the finest ornaments of their houses.\nThe man who has _most_ heads, is considered the _greatest_ man. A man who\nhas NO HEADS is despised! If he wishes to be respected, he must get a\nhead as soon as he can. Sometimes a man, in order to get a head, will go\nout to look for a poor fisherman, who has done him no harm, and will come\nback with his head.\n\nWhen the Dyaks fight against their enemies, they try to get, not only the\nheads of _men_, but also the heads of _women_ and CHILDREN. How dreadful\nit must be to see a poor BABY'S HEAD hanging from the ceiling! There was\na Dyak who lost all his property by fire, but he cared not for losing\nanything, so much as for losing his PRECIOUS HEADS; nothing could console\nhim for THIS loss; some of them he had cut off himself, and others had\nbeen cut off by his father, and left to him!\n\nPeople who are so bent on killing, as these Dyaks are, must have many\nenemies. The Dyaks are always in fear of being attacked by their enemies.\nThey are afraid of living in lonely cottages; they think it a better plan\nfor a great many to live together, that they may be able to defend\nthemselves, if surprised in the night. Four hundred Dyaks will live\ntogether in one house. The house is very large. To make it more safe, it\nis built upon _very high posts_, and there are ladders to get up by. The\nposts are sometimes forty feet high; so that when you are in the house,\nyou find yourself as high as the tall trees. There is one very large\nroom, where all the men and women sit, and talk, and do their work in the\nday. The women pound the rice, and weave the mats, while the men make\nweapons of war, and the little children play about. There is always much\nnoise and confusion in this room. There are a great many doors along one\nside of the long room; and each of these doors leads into a small room\nwhere a family lives; the parents, the babies, and the girls sleep there,\nwhile the boys of the family sleep in the large room, that has just been\ndescribed.\n\nYou know already what are the ornaments on which each family prides\nitself,--the HEADS hanging up in their rooms! It is the SEA Dyaks who\nlive in these very large houses.\n\nThe HILL Dyaks do not live in houses quite so large. Yet several families\ninhabit the same house. In the midst of their villages, there is always\none house where the boys sleep. In this house all the HEADS of the\nvillage are kept. The house is round, and built on posts, and the\nentrance is underneath through the floor. As this is the best house in\nthe village, travellers are always brought to this house to sleep. Think\nhow dreadful it must be, when you wake in the night to see thirty or\nforty horrible heads, dangling from the ceiling! The wind, too, which\ncomes in through little doors in the roof, blows the heads about; so that\nthey knock against each other, and seem almost as if they were still\nalive. This is the HEAD-HOUSE.\n\nThese Hill Dyaks do not often get a new head; but when they do, they come\nto the Head-House at night, and sing to the new head, while they beat\nupon their loud gongs. What do they say to the new head?\n\n\"Your head, and your spirit, are now ours. Persuade your countrymen to be\nslain by us. Let them wander in the fields, that we may bring the heads\nof your brethren, and hang them up with your heads.\"\n\nHow much Satan must delight in these prayers. They are prayers just\nsuited to that great MURDERER and DESTROYER!\n\nThe Malays are enemies to all the Dyaks; and they have burnt many of\ntheir houses, cut down their fruit trees, and taken their children\ncaptives. The Dyaks complain bitterly of their sufferings. Some of them\nsay, \"We do not live like men, but like monkeys; we are hunted from place\nto place; we have no houses; and when we light a fire, we fear lest the\nsmoke should make our enemies know where we are.\"\n\nThey say they live like monkeys. But why do they behave like tigers?\n\nAn English gentleman, named Sir James Brooke, has settled in Borneo, and\nhas become a chief of a large tract of land. His house is near the river\nSarawak. He has persuaded the Sultan of Borneo, to give the English a\nVERY LITTLE island called the Isle of Labuan. It is a desert island. Of\nwhat use can this small island be to England? English soldiers may live\nthere, and try to prevent pirates infesting the seas. If it were not for\nthe pirates, Borneo would be able to send many treasures to foreign\ncountries. It is but a little way from Borneo to Singapore, and there are\nmany English merchants at Singapore, ready to buy the precious things of\nBorneo. Gold is found in Borneo, mixed with the earth. But I don't know\nwho would dig it up, if it were not for the industrious Chinese, who come\nover in great numbers to get money in this island. Diamonds are found\nthere, and a valuable metal called antimony.\n\nThe sago-tree, the pepper plant, and the sugar-cane, and the cocoa-nut\ntree are abundant.\n\nThe greatest curiosity that Borneo possesses are the eatable nests. These\nwhite and transparent nests are found in the caves by the sea-shore, and\nthey are the work of a little swallow. The Chinese give a high price for\nthese nests, that they may make soup for their feasts.\n\nANIMALS.--Borneo has very few large animals. There are, indeed, enormous\nalligators in the rivers, but there are no lions or tigers; and even the\nbears are small, and content to climb the trees for fruit and honey. The\nmajestic animal which is the pride of Ceylon, is not found in Borneo: I\nmean the elephant.\n\nYet the woods are filled with living creatures. Squirrels and monkeys\nsport among the trees. The leaps of the monkeys are amazing; hundreds\nwill jump one after the other, from a tree as high as a house, and not\none will miss his footing; yet now and then a monkey has a fall. The\nmost curious kind of monkey is found in Borneo--the Ourang-outang; but it\nis one of the least active; it climbs carefully from branch to branch,\nalways holding by its hands before it makes a spring. These\nOurang-outangs are not as large as a man, yet they are much stronger. All\nthe monkeys sleep in the trees; in a minute a monkey makes its bed by\ntwisting a few branches together.\n\nBeneath the trees--two sorts of animals, very unlike each other, roam\nabout,--the clumsy hog, and the graceful deer. As the _largest_ sort of\n_monkeys_ is found in Borneo, so is the _smallest_ sort of _deer_. There\nis a deer that has legs only eight inches long. There is no more elegant\ncreature in the world than this bright-eyed, swift-footed little deer.\n\n\n\n\nJAPAN.\n\n\nThis is the name of a great empire. There are three principal islands.\nOne of these is very long, and very narrow; it is about a thousand miles\nlong,--much longer than Great Britain, but not nearly as broad. Yet the\nthree islands _together_ are larger than our island. There is a fourth\nisland near the Japan islands, called Jesso, and it is filled with\nJapanese people.\n\nYou know it is difficult to get into China; but it is far more difficult\nto get into Japan. The emperor has boats always watching round the coast,\nto prevent strangers coming into his country. These boats are so made,\nthat they cannot go far from the shore. No Japanese ship is ever seen\nfloating in a foreign harbor. If it be difficult to get _into_ Japan, it\nis also difficult to get _out_ of her. There is a law condemning to\n_death_ any Japanese who leaves his country. The Chinese also are\nforbidden to leave their land; but _they_ do not mind their laws as well\nas the Japanese mind _theirs_.\n\nI shall not be able to tell you much about Japan; as strangers may not go\nthere, nor natives come from it. English ships very seldom go to Japan,\nbecause they are so closely watched. The guard-boats surround them night\nand day. When it is dark, lanterns are lighted, in order the better to\nobserve the strangers. One English captain entreated permission to land,\nthat he might observe the stars with his instruments, in order afterwards\nto make maps; but he could only get leave to land on a little island\nwhere there were a few fishermen's huts; and all the time he was there,\nthe Japanese officers kept their eye upon him. He was told that he must\nnot measure the land. It seems that the Japanese were afraid that his\n_measuring_ the land would be the beginning of his taking it away.\nHowever, he had no such intention, and was content with measuring the\nSEA.\n\nHe asked the Japanese to sell him a supply of fruit and vegetables for\nhis crew, and a supply was brought; but the Japanese would take no money\nin return. He wanted to buy bullocks, that his crew might have beef, but\nthe Japanese replied, \"You cannot have _them_; for they work hard, and\nare tired, they draw the plough; they do their duty, and they ought not\nto be eaten; but the _hogs_ are lazy; they do no work, you may have them\nto eat, if you wish it.\" The Japanese will not even milk their cows, but\nthey allow the calves to have all the milk.\n\nIf you wish to know _why_ the Japanese will not allow strangers to land,\nI must relate some events which happened three hundred years ago.\n\nSome Roman Catholic priests from Spain and Portugal settled in the land,\nand taught the people about Christ, but they taught them also to worship\nthe cross, and the Virgin Mary. Thousands of the Japanese were baptized,\nand were called Christians. After some years had passed away, the emperor\nbegan to fear that the kings of Spain and Portugal would come, and take\naway his country from him, as they had taken away other countries; so the\nemperor began to persecute the priests, and all who followed their words.\nOne emperor after another persecuted the Christians. There is a burning\nmountain in Japan, and down its terrible yawning mouth many Christians\nwere thrown. One emperor commanded his people instead of _worshipping_\nthe cross, to _trample_ upon it. To do either--is wicked; to do either is\nto insult Christ.\n\nAll Christians are now hated in Japan. The Dutch tried to persuade the\nemperors to trust _them_; but they could only get leave to buy and sell\nat one place, but not to settle in the land.\n\nThere are many beautiful things in Japan, especially boxes, and screens,\nand cabinets, varnished and ornamented in a curious manner, and these are\nmuch admired by great people in Europe. There is silk, too, and tea, and\nporcelain in Japan; but they are not nearly as fine as China. There is\ngold also.\n\nThere are as many people in Japan, as there are in Britain; for the\nJapanese are very industrious, and cultivate abundance of rice, and\nwheat. Oh! how sad to think that so many millions should be living and\ndying in darkness; for the chief religion is the false, and foolish\nreligion of Buddha, or, as he is called in Japan, \"Budso.\" How many names\nare given to that deceiver! Buddha in Ceylon; Fo, in China; Gaudama, in\nBurmah; Codom, in Siam--and Budso in Japan!\n\nWhat sort of people are the Japanese?\n\nThey are a very polite people--much politer than the Chinese, but very\nproud. They are a learned nation, for they can read and write, and they\nunderstand geography, arithmetic, and astronomy. There is a college where\nmany languages are taught, even English. The dress of the gentlemen is\nelegant;--the loose tunic and trowsers, the sash, and jacket, are made of\na kind of fine linen, adorned with various patterns; the stockings are of\nwhite jean; sandals are worn upon the feet, but no covering upon the\nhead, although most of the hair is shaven, and the little that remains\nbehind, is tied tightly together; an umbrella or a fan is all that is\nused to keep off the sun;--except on journeys, and then a large cap of\noiled paper, or of plaited grass is worn. The great mark by which a\ngentleman is known, is wearing two swords.\n\nThe Japanese houses are very pretty. In the windows--flower-pots are\nplaced; and when real flowers cannot be had, artificial flowers are used.\nIn great houses, the ladies are shut up in one part; while in the other,\ncompany is received. The house is divided into rooms by large screens,\nand as these can be moved, the rooms can be made larger, or smaller, as\nthe master pleases. There are no chairs, for the Japanese, though so much\nlike the Chinese, do not sit like them on chairs, but on mats beautifully\nwoven. The emperor's palace is called, \"The Hall of the Thousand Mats.\"\nEvery part of a Japanese house is covered with paper, and adorned with\npaintings, and gold, and silver flowers; even the doors, and the\nceilings, are ornamented in this manner. Beautiful boxes, and porcelain\njars, add to the beauty of the rooms.\n\nThe climate is pleasant, for the winter is short, and the sun is not as\nhot as in China; so that the ladies, and gentlemen, are almost as fair as\nEuropeans, though the laborers are very dark.\n\n[Illustration: JAPANESE GENTLEMAN.]\n\nBut Japan is exposed to many dangers, from wind, from water, and from\nfire--three terrible enemies! The waves dash with violence upon the rocky\nshores; the wind often blows in fearful hurricanes; while earthquakes and\nhot streams from the burning mountains, fill the people with terror.\n\nBut more terrible than any of these--is wickedness; and very wicked\ncustoms are observed in Japan. It is very wicked for a man to kill\nhimself, yet in Japan it is the custom for all courtiers who have\noffended the emperor, to cut open their own bodies with a sword. The\nlittle boys of five years old, begin to learn the dreadful art. They do\nnot really cut themselves, but they are shown _how_ to do it, that when\nthey are men, they may be able to kill themselves in an elegant manner.\nHow dreadful! Every great man has a white dress, which he never wears,\nbut keeps by him, that he may put it on when he is going to kill himself:\nand he carries it about with him wherever he goes, for he cannot tell how\nsuddenly he may want it. When a courtier receives a letter sentencing him\nto die, he invites his friends to a feast; and at the end of it, his\nsentence is read aloud by the emperor's officer; then he takes his sword,\nand makes a great gash across his own body; at the same moment, a servant\nwho stands behind him, cuts off his head.\n\nThis way of dying is thought very fine, and as a reward, the emperor\nallows the son of the dead man to occupy his father's place in the court.\nBut _what_ a place to have, when at last there may be such a fearful\nscene! Missionaries cannot come into Japan to teach the people a better\nway of dying, and to tell them of a happy place after death.\n\n\n\n\nAUSTRALIA.\n\n\nThis is the largest island in the world. It is as large as Europe (which\nis not an _island_, but a _continent_). But how different is Australia\nfrom Europe! Instead of containing, as Europe does, a number of grand\nkingdoms, it has not one single king. Instead of being filled with\npeople, the greater part of Australia is a desert, or a forest, where a\nfew half naked savages are wandering.\n\nA hundred years ago, there was not a town in the whole island; but now\nthere are a few large towns near the sea-coast, but only a very few. It\nis the English who built these large towns, and who live in them.\n\nAustralia is not so fine a land as Europe, because it has not so many\nfine rivers; and it is fine _rivers_ that make a fine _land_. Most of the\nrivers in Australia do not deserve the name of rivers; they are more like\na number of water-holes, and are often dried up in the summer; but there\nis one very fine, broad, long, deep river, called the Murray. It flows\nfor twelve hundred miles. Were there several such rivers us the Murray,\nthen Australia would be a fine land indeed.\n\nWhy is there so little water? Because there is so little rain. Sometimes\nfor two years together, there are no heavy showers, and the grass\nwithers, and the trees turn brown, and the air is filled with dust. I\nbelieve the reason of the want of rain is--that the mountains are not\nhigh; for high mountains draw the clouds together. There are no mountains\nas high as the Alps of Europe; the highest are only half as high.[13]\n\nTHE NATIVES.--The savages of Australia have neither god, nor king. Some\nheathen countries are full of idols, but there are no idols in the wilds\nof Australia. No,--like the beasts which perish, these savages live from\nday to day without prayer, or praise, delighting only in eating and\ndrinking, hunting and dancing.\n\nMost men build some kind of houses; but these savages are satisfied with\nputting a few boughs together, as a shelter from the storm. There is just\nroom in one of these shelters for a man to creep into it, and lie down to\nsleep. They do not wish to learn to build better huts, for as they are\nalways running about from place to place, they do not think it worth\nwhile to build better.\n\nA native was once sitting in the corner of a white man's hut, and looking\nas if he enjoyed the warmth. The white men began to laugh at him, for not\nbuilding a good hut for himself. For some time the black man said\nnothing, at last he muttered, \"Ay, ay, white fellow think it best\nthat-a-way. Black fellow think it best that-a-way.\" A white man rudely\nanswered, \"Then black fellow is a fool.\" Upon hearing this, the black\nfellow, quite affronted, got up, and folding his blanket round him,\nwalked out of the hut. How much pride there is in the heart of man! Even\na savage thinks a great deal of his own wisdom, and cannot bear to be\ncalled a fool.\n\nSometimes the natives build a house _strong_ enough to last during the\nwhole winter, and _large_ enough to hold seven or eight people. They make\nit in the shape of a bee-hive.\n\nTheir reason for moving about continually, is that they may get food.\nThey look for it, wherever they go, digging up roots, and grubbing up\ngrubs, and searching the hollows of the trees for _opossums_. (Of these\nstrange animals more shall soon be mentioned.)\n\nThe women are the most ill-treated creatures in the world. The men beat\nthem on their heads whenever they please, and cover them with bruises. A\ngentleman once saw a poor black woman crying bitterly. When he asked her\nwhat was the matter, she told him that her husband was going to beat her\nfor having broken his pipe. The gentleman went to the husband, and\nentreated him to forgive his \"gin\" (for that is the name for a _wife_ or\n_woman_). But the man declared he would not forgive her, unless a new\npipe was given to him. The gentleman could not promise one to the black\nman, as there were no pipes to be had in that place. The next morning the\npoor gin appeared with a broken arm, her cruel husband having beaten her\nwith a thick stick.\n\nThe miserable gins are not _beaten_ only; they are _half starved_; for\ntheir husbands will give them no food, and _they_--poor things--cannot\nfish or hunt, or shoot; they have nothing but the roots they dig up, and\nthe grubs, and lizards, and snakes they find on the ground. Their looks\nshow how wretchedly they fare; for while the men are often strong and\ntall, the women are generally thin, and bent, and haggard.\n\nYet the _woman_, weak as she is, carries all the baggage, not only the\nbabe slung upon her back, but the bag of food, and even her husband's gun\nand pipe; while the _man_ stalks along in his pride, with nothing but\nhis spear in his hand, or at most a light basket upon his arm; for he\nconsiders his wife as his beast of burden. At night the woman has to\nbuild her own shelter, for the man thinks it quite enough to build one\nfor himself.\n\nSuch is the hard lot of a native woman, while she _lives_; and when she\n_dies_, her body is perched in a tree, as not worth the trouble of\nburying.\n\nI have already told you, that the natives have no GOD; yet they have a\nDEVIL, whom they call Yakoo, or debbil-debbil. Of him they are always\nafraid, for they fancy he goes about devouring children. When any one\ndies, they say, \"Yakoo took him.\" How different from those happy\nChristians who can say of their dead, \"God took them!\"\n\nPeople who know not God, but only the devil, must be very wicked. These\nsavages show themselves to be children of debbil-debbil by their actions.\nThey kill many of their babes, that they may not have the trouble of\nnursing them. Old people also they kill, and laugh at the idea of making\nthem \"tumble down.\" One of the most horrible things they do, is making\nthe skulls of their friends into drinking-cups, and they think that by\ndoing so, they show their AFFECTION! They allow the nearest relation to\nhave the skull of the dead person. They will even EAT a little piece of\nthe dead body, just as a mark of love. But generally speaking, it is\nonly their _enemies_ they eat, and they _do_ eat them whenever they can\nkill them. There are a great many tribes of natives, and they look upon\none another as enemies. If a man of one tribe dare to come, and hunt in\nthe lands of another tribe, he is immediately killed, and his body is\neaten.\n\nThe bodies of dear friends--are treated with great honor, placed for some\nweeks on a high platform, and then buried. Mothers prize highly the dead\nbodies of their children. A traveller met a poor old woman wandering in\nsearch of roots, with a stick for digging in her hand, and with no other\ncovering than a little grass mat. On her back she bore a heavy load. What\nwas it? The dead body of her child,--a boy of ten years old; this burden\nshe had borne for three weeks, and she thought she showed her love, by\nkeeping it near her for so long a time. Alas! she knew nothing of the\nimmortal spirit, and how, when washed in Jesus' blood, it is borne by\nangels into the presence of God.\n\nBut though these savages are so wicked, and so wild, they have their\namusements. Dancing is the chief amusement. At every full moon, there is\na grand dance, called the Corrobory. It is the men who dance, while the\nwomen sit by and beat time. Nothing can be more horrible to see than a\nCorrobory. It is held in the night by the light of blazing fires. The men\nare made to look more frightful than usual, by great patches, and stripes\nof red and white clay all over their bodies; and they play all manner of\nstrange antics, and utter all kinds of strange yells; so that you might\nthink it was a dance in HELL, rather than on earth.\n\nIt may surprise you to hear these wild creatures have a turn both for\nmusic and drawing. There are figures carved upon the rocks, which show\ntheir turn for drawing. The figures represent beasts, fishes, and men,\nand are much better done than could have been supposed. There are few\nsavages who can sing as well as these natives; but the _words_ of their\nsongs are very foolish. These are the words of one song,\n\n    \"Eat great deal, eat, eat, eat;\n    Eat again, plenty to eat;\n    Eat more yet, eat, eat, eat.\"\n\nIf a pig could sing, surely this song would just suit its fancy. How sad\nto think a man who is made to praise God forever and ever, should have no\nhigher joy than eating!\n\nAnd what is the appearance of these people?\n\nThey are ugly, with flat noses, and wide mouths, but their teeth are\nwhite, and their hair is long, glossy, and curly. They adorn their\ntresses with teeth, and feathers, and dogs' tails; and they rub over\ntheir whole body with fish oil and fat. You may imagine, therefore, how\nunpleasant it must be to come near them.\n\n\nTHE COLONISTS OR SETTLERS.\n\n_Once_ there were only black people in Australia, and no white; _now_\nthere are more white than black; and it is probable, that soon, there\nwill be no black people, but only white. Ever since the white people\nbegan to settle there, the black people have been dying away very fast;\nfor the white people have taken away the lands where the blacks used to\nhunt, and have filled them with their sheep and cattle.\n\nThere are two sorts of white people who have come to Australia. They are\ncalled \"Convicts,\" and \"Colonists.\"\n\nConvicts are some of the worst of the white people;--thieves, who instead\nof being kept in prison, were sent to Australia to work hard for many\nyears. It is a sad thing for Australia, that so many thieves have been\nsent there, because after their punishment was over, and they were set at\nliberty, some remained in the land, and did a great deal of harm.\n\nColonists are people who come of their own accord to earn their living as\nbest they can.\n\nIt is a common sight when travelling in Australia, to meet a dray drawn\nby bullocks, laden with furniture, and white people. It is a family going\nto their new farm. In the dray there are pigs, and you may hear them\ngrunting; there are fowls, too, shut up in a basket; and besides, there\nare plants and tools. When the family arrive at the place where they mean\nto settle, they find no house, nor garden, nor fields, only a wild\nforest. Immediately they pitch a tent for the mother and her daughters to\nsleep in, while the father, his sons, and his laborers, sleep by the fire\nin the open air. The next morning, the men begin to fell trees to make a\nhut, and they finish it in a week;--not a very grand dwelling, it is\ntrue, but good enough for the fine weather; the floor is made of the hard\nclay from the enormous ant hills; the walls--of great slabs of wood; the\nroof--of wooden tiles, and the windows--of calico. When the hut is\nfinished, a hen-house, and a pig-sty are built, and a dairy also\nunderground. A garden is soon planted, and there the vines, and the\npeach-trees bear beautiful fruit. The daughters attend to the rearing of\nthe fowls, and the milking of the cows, and soon have a plentiful supply\nof eggs and butter. The men clear the ground of trees, in order to sow\nwheat and potatoes. Thus the family soon have all their wants supplied;\nand they find time by degrees to build a stone house, with eight large\nrooms; and when it is completed, they give up their wooden hut to one of\nthe laborers. This is the way of life in the \"Bush;\" for such is the name\ngiven to the wild parts of Australia.\n\nSome settlers keep large flocks of sheep, and gain money by selling the\nwool and the fat, to make cloth and tallow. A shepherd in Australia leads\na very lonely life among the hills, and he is obliged to keep ever upon\nthe watch against the wild dogs. These voracious animals prowl about in\ntroops, and cruelly bite numbers of the sheep, and then devour as many as\nthey can. Happily there are no _large_ wild beasts, such as wolves, and\nbears, lions, and tigers; for these would devour the shepherd as well as\nthe sheep.\n\nBut there are _men_, called \"bush-rangers,\" as fierce as wild beasts.\nThese are convicts who have escaped from punishment. They often come to\nthe settlers' houses, and murder the inhabitants.\n\nThe natives are not nearly as dangerous as these wicked _white_ men;\nindeed _they_ are generally very harmless, unless provoked by\nill-treatment. They are willing to make themselves useful, by reaping\ncorn, and washing sheep; and a little reward satisfies them, such as a\nblanket, or an old coat. When some of the flock have strayed, the blacks\nwill take great pains to look for them, and seem as much pleased when\nthey have found them, as if they were their own sheep. The black women\ncan help in the wash-house, and in the farm-yard; but they are too much\nbesmeared with grease to be fit for the kitchen. It is wise never to give\na good dinner to a black, till his work is done; because he always eats\nso much, that he can work no more that day.\n\nSome of these poor blacks are very faithful and affectionate. There was\none who lived near a settler's hut, and he used to come there every\nmorning before the master was up; he would enter very gently for fear of\nwaking him,--light the fire by rubbing two pieces of wood together, and\nset the kettle on to boil; then he would approach the bed, and putting\nhis hand affectionately on the hand of the sleeper would whisper in his\near, till he saw him open his eyes, when he would greet him with a kind\nand smiling look. These attentions were the mark of his attachment to the\nwhite man.\n\nThis black was as faithful, as he was affectionate. Once he was sent by a\nfarmer on a message. It was this, \"Take this letter to my brother, and\nhe will give you sixpence, and then spend the sixpence in pipes for me.\"\nThe black man took the letter, and went towards the place where the\nbrother lived. He met him on horseback. The brother after reading the\nletter, rode away without giving the sixpence to the bearer. What was the\npoor black man to do? \"Shall I go back,\" thought he, \"without the pipes?\nNo. I will try to get some money.\" He went to a house that he knew of,\nand offered to chop some wood for sixpence, and with _that sixpence_ he\nbought the pipes. Was not this being a good servant? This was not\neye-service; it was the service of the heart. But there are not many\nnatives like this man. They are generally soon tired of working. For\ninstance, a boy called Jackey, left a good master who would have provided\nfor him, to live again wild in the woods, and went away with the blanket\noff his bed.\n\nANIMALS.--There are few of _our_ animals in Australia, or of _their_\nanimals in England. There is no hare, no rabbit, no nightingale, no\nthrush, in Australia. _Once_ there were no horses, nor cows, nor sheep,\nnor pigs; but _now_ there are a great many. Much terrified were the\nnatives at the sight of the first horse which came from England; for they\nhad never seen such a large animal before.\n\nThe largest beast in Australia is the Kangaroo, remarkable for its short\nfore-legs, and its great strong hind-legs, and for the pocket in which it\nshelters its little one. It is a gentle creature, and can be easily\ntamed. A pet kangaroo may often be seen walking about a settler's garden,\ncropping the grass upon the lawn. But though easily _tamed_, a wild\nkangaroo is not easily _caught_; for it makes immense springs in the air,\nfar higher than a horse could leap, though it is not as big as a sheep.\nWhen hunted by dogs, it gets, when it can, into the water, and turning\nround, and standing still, dips the dogs, one by one, till it drowns\nthem.\n\nThere is another beast, called the opossum, not much bigger than a large\ncat, and it also has a pocket for its young ones. But instead of cropping\nthe grass, it eats the leaves of trees. It has a gentle face like a deer,\nand a long tail like a monkey. It hides itself, as the squirrel does, in\nthe hollows of trees. Like the owl, it is never seen in the day, but at\nnight it comes out to feed. The blacks are very cunning in finding out\nthe holes where the opossums are hidden, and they know how to drag them\nout by their long tails, without getting bitten by their sharp teeth.\nWith the skin of the opossum the natives make a cloak.\n\nThe wild dogs, or dingoes, are odious animals. They may be heard yelling\nat night to the terror of the shepherd, and the farmer. They are bold\nenough to rush into a yard, and to carry off a calf, or a pig; and when\nthey have dragged it into the woods, they cruelly eat the legs first, and\ndo not kill it for a long while.\n\nThese three--the kangaroo, the opossum, and the dingo,--are the principal\nbeasts of Australia.\n\nAmong the birds, the emu is the most remarkable. It is nearly as tall as\nan ostrich, and has beautiful soft feathers, though not as beautiful as\nthe ostrich's. But the most curious point in the emu is,--it has no\ntongue. You may suppose, therefore, that it is neither a singing bird,\nnor a talking bird; it only makes a little noise in its throat. But if\n_it_ is silent, there are numbers of parrots, and cockatoos, to fill the\nair with their screams. In England, these birds are thought a great deal\nof, but in Australia, they are killed to make into pies, or into soup.\nParrot-pie and cockatoo-soup, are common dishes there. However, many of\nthe parrots and cockatoos, are caught by the blacks, and sold to the\nEnglish, who send them to England in the ships.\n\nThere are not such singing birds in Australia, as there are here. Though\nthere is a robin red-breast there, he does not sing as sweetly as he does\nhere. But there are _laughing_ birds in Australia. There is a bird called\nthe \"laughing jackass.\" He laughs very loud three times a day. He begins\nin the morning;--suddenly a hoarse loud laugh is heard,--then another,\nthen another,--till a whole troop of birds seem laughing all together,\nand go on laughing for a few minutes;--and then they are all quiet again.\nSuch a noise must awaken many a sleeper on his bed. At noon the laugh is\nheard again. At evening there is another general fit of laughter. These\nbirds are not like children, who laugh at no particular hour, but often\ntwenty times a day. The laughing jackass is almost as useful as a clock,\nand it is called, \"the bushman's clock.\"\n\n\nBOTANY BAY.\n\nThis is a famous place, for here the English first settled, and here it\nwas thieves were sent from England as a punishment. Some were sent there\nfor fourteen years, and some for twenty-one years, and some for life. How\ndid the place get the beautiful name of Botany? which means \"the\nknowledge of flowers.\" Because there were so many beautiful flowers seen\nthere, when Captain Cook first beheld it. Yet the name Botany Bay, does\nnot seem beautiful to us; for it reminds us not of roses, but of rogues;\nnot of violets, but of violent men; not of lilies, but of villains.\n\n\nSYDNEY.\n\nThis town is close to Botany Bay. It is the largest town in Australia.\nIt is a very wicked city, because so many convicts have been sent there.\nMany of the people are the children of convicts, and have been brought up\nvery ill by their parents. Of course there are many robberies in such a\ncity, far more than there are in London. Who would like to live there!\nyet it is a fine city, and by the sea-side, with a harbor, where hundreds\nof ships might ride,--safe from the storm. It is plain, too, that Sydney\nis full of rich people, for the streets are thronged with carriages,\ndriving rapidly along. The convicts often become rich, after their time\nof punishment is over, by keeping public-houses, and when rich they keep\ncarriages.\n\nIf you were in Sydney, you would hardly think you were in a savage\nisland; for you would see no savages in the streets. What is become of\nthose who once lived in these parts? They are all dead, or gone to other\nparts of the island. The last black near Sydney, used to talk of the old\ntimes, and say, \"When I was a pick-a-ninny, plenty of black fellow then.\nOnly one left now, mitter.\"\n\n\nADELAIDE.\n\nIt is much better to live here than in Sydney, because convicts have\nnever been sent here. Numbers of honest poor people are leaving England\nand Ireland, every year, to go to Adelaide. When they arrive at the\ncoast, they get into cars, and are driven seven miles, passing by many\npretty cottages, and gardens, till they arrive at Adelaide. There they\nfind themselves in the midst of gardens; for the houses are not crowded\ntogether, as in our English towns, but are placed in the midst of trees,\nand flowers, and grass; because there is plenty of room in Australia.\n\nBut there is one great evil both in Sydney and in Adelaide, which is the\ndust blown from the desert, and which almost chokes the inhabitants. If\nthere were more rain in Australia, there would be less dust.\n\nAustralia is divided into three parts:--\n\n    I. New South Wales. Capital, Sydney.\n    II. Western Australia. Capital, Perth.\n    III. South Australia. Capital, Adelaide.\n\n   [13] The Australian mountains are about seven thousand feet high.\n\n\n\n\nVAN DIEMAN'S LAND.\n\n\nThis island is as cool as Great Britain; yet it is not a pleasant land to\nlive in; for it is filled with convicts. There are no natives there now;\nthey died away gradually, except a few, who were taken by the English to\na small island near, called \"Flinder's Island.\" They were taken there\nthat they might be safe; yet they never ceased to sigh, and to cry after\ntheir native land.\n\n\nTHE YOUNG SAVAGES.\n\nMany travellers have tried to see the land in the midst of Australia, but\nhitherto they have not succeeded. After going a little way, they have\nbeen obliged to return, and why? Because they have found no water.\n\nI will give you an account of the journey of Mr. Eyre. This traveller\nwished to go into the midst of the land, but finding he could not, he\ntravelled along the coast, at that part called the Great Bight (or the\nGreat Bay).\n\nHe set out from Adelaide with a large party, but various accidents\noccurred by the way, and at last he found himself with only one\nEnglishman, and three native boys. The eldest was almost a man. His name\nwas Wylie, and he was a good-tempered, lively youth. The second was named\nNeramberein. I shall have nothing good to relate of him, but a great deal\nof evil; for he was indeed a very wicked boy. The youngest was called\nCootachah--a boy who was easily induced to follow bad examples.\n\nMr. Eyre was the chief person in the party, and his English companion was\nMr. Baxter. Ten horses carried the packages, and six sheep were made to\nfollow, that they might be killed one by one for food.\n\nAll these poor animals suffered terribly from want of water. Sometimes\nthey went a hundred miles without a refreshing draught. The horses became\nso weak, that the travellers were unwilling to mount their backs; and as\nfor the sheep, they could scarcely crawl along.\n\nMany ways of getting water were tried. One way was digging up the roots\nof trees. A little,--a very little,--water may often be squeezed out of\nthe end of a root; because the root is the mouth of the tree, and sucks\nup water from the ground. Another way of getting water was by gathering\nup the dew in a sponge. Enough dew to make a cup of tea might sometimes\nbe obtained; but not enough for the poor beasts to have any. When the\ntravellers, by digging, could make a well, then they were glad indeed;\nfor then the beasts could be refreshed as well as themselves.\n\nThe whole party were become so weak from fatigue and thirst, that they\ncould not get on fast, and they found it necessary to save their food as\nmuch as possible, that it might last to the end of the long journey. They\ntook a little flour every day out of their bag, and made it into a paste.\nSometimes they caught a fish, or shot a bird or beast, and then they had\na hearty meal. When they killed one of their sheep, then they had plenty\nof mutton. At last, all the sheep were killed but one.\n\nIt happened at this time, that one of the horses was so sick that he\ncould not move. It was plain he would soon die; therefore the travellers\ndetermined to kill him, and eat his flesh. Mr. Eyre was grieved at the\nthought of killing his horse, neither could he bear the idea of eating\nhorse flesh; but then he feared, that if the horse were not killed, the\nwhole party would be starved.\n\nThe native boys were delighted when they knew the horse was to be eaten;\nfor they had long been fretting for more food. They would like to have\ndevoured it _all_ on the spot; but they were not allowed to do so; the\ngreater part of the flesh was cut off in thin slices, dipped in salt\nwater, and then hung up in the sun to dry, to serve as provision for many\ndays to come. The boys were permitted to devour the rest of the carcase.\n\nWith what haste they prepared the feast! They made a fire close to the\ncarcase, and then cut off lumps of flesh, which they roasted quickly, and\nthen ate. They spent the whole afternoon in this manner, looking more\nlike ravenous wolves than human creatures. When night came, they were not\nwilling to leave their meat, but took as much as ever they could carry\ninto their beds, that they might eat whenever they awoke. Next day, they\nreturned to the roasting and eating, and the next night again they took\nmeat with them to bed.\n\nMr. Eyre wondered at their gluttony and he thought it necessary to give\nthem an allowance of food, instead of letting them eat as much as they\nliked. He gave five pounds of meat to each boy every day. Five pounds is\nas much as a shoulder of mutton--and ten English boys would think it\nquite enough for dinner; but the Australian boys were not satisfied!\n\nMr. Eyre began to suspect that in the night they stole some of the meat\nhanging up to dry on the trees. Therefore one night he weighed the meat,\nand in the morning weighed it again. He found that four pounds were gone.\nHe thought it was very ungrateful of boys, to whom he gave so much, to\nsteal from his small stock. As a punishment he gave them less meat next\nday than usual.\n\nHe entreated the boys to tell him who was the thief. The eldest and\nyoungest declared that they had not stolen any meat; but Neramberein\nwould not answer at all, and looked sulky and angry, and muttered\nsomething about going away, and taking Wylie with him. Mr. Eyre replied,\nthat he might go if he pleased, while at the same time he warned him of\nthe dangers of the way.\n\nThe next morning, as soon as breakfast was over, the three boys all rose\nup and walked away. Mr. Eyre called back the youngest, as he felt he was\nmisled by his elders, but he let the others go. They had stayed with him\ntill the horse was all eaten up, except the dried pieces--but now they\nhoped to get more food, when travelling alone, than with Mr. Eyre.\n\nAs soon as the boys were gone, Mr. Eyre determined to stop some time\nlonger where he was, that he might not overtake them. There was one sheep\nstill remaining, and which seemed very restless all by itself. This\nsheep was killed for food, and in that place there was plenty of water;\nso that the little company fared well that day and the next; especially\nas Mr. Baxter had the good fortune to kill an eagle, which made an\nexcellent stew.\n\nJust as the travellers had finished their evening meal, they were\nastonished to see the two runaway boys approaching. Wylie came running\nup, declaring that both he and his companions were sorry for their bad\nbehavior, and were anxious to be received again, not being able to get\nenough to eat. But though Wylie acted in this frank manner, his companion\nwas very sulky. He said nothing, but seated himself by the fire, pouting\nand frowning, and evidently much vexed at being obliged to come back. Mr.\nEyre thought it well to give the boys a lecture on their bad conduct,\nespecially upon their thefts; for they now owned that they had stolen\nmeat from the trees, though they had before denied it. But though Mr.\nEyre reproved the boys, he treated them very kindly, for he gave them\nsome tea, and bread and meat for supper.\n\nThe next day the whole party continued their journey. They were obliged\nto be very sparing of their food, lest when it was gone they should get\nno more. But their greatest trial was the want of water.\n\nAfter travelling during four days, they stopped one evening in a rocky\nplace at the top of high cliffs, hoping that if any rain should fall,\nsome might be caught in the hollow places among the rocks. That evening\nthey ate no supper; for having had dinner, they might do without supper.\n\nBefore they lay down to sleep, they made themselves places to sleep in,\nby setting up boughs, as shelters from the wind. They also piled up their\ngoods in a great heap, and covered it with oil skin, to keep out the\ndamp. Mr. Eyre did not sleep when the rest did, for he undertook to watch\nthe horses till eleven at night, and then he agreed to change places with\nMr. Baxter.\n\nThe hour was almost come, and Mr. Eyre was beginning to lead the horses\ntowards the sleeping place, when he was startled by hearing a gun go off.\nHe called out,--but receiving no answer, he grew alarmed, and leaving the\nhorses, ran towards the spot, whence the noise had come.\n\nPresently he met Wylie, running very fast, and crying out, \"Oh! Massa,\nOh! Massa, come here.\"\n\n\"What is the matter?\" inquired Mr. Eyre.\n\nWylie made no answer.\n\nWith hurried steps, Mr. Eyre accompanied him towards the camp. What a\nsight struck his eyes! His friend Baxter, lying on the ground, weltering\nin his blood, and in the agonies of DEATH.\n\nThe two younger boys were not there, and the goods which had been covered\nby the oil-skin, lay scattered in confusion on the ground. It was too\nclear that one of the boys had KILLED poor Baxter. No doubt it was\nNeramberein who had done it!\n\nIt seems that the boys had attempted to steal some of the goods, and that\nwhile they were gathering them together, Baxter had awaked, and had come\nforth from his sleeping place, and that _then_ one of the boys had shot\nhim.\n\nMr. Eyre raised the dying man from the ground where he was lying\nprostrate, and he then found that a ball had entered his left breast, and\nthat his life was fast departing. In a few minutes he expired!\n\nWhat were the feelings of the lonely traveller! Here he was in the midst\nof a desert, with no companion but one young savage, and that young\nsavage was not one whom he could trust; for he knew not what part Wylie\nhad taken in the deeds of the night. He suspected that he had intended to\ngo away with the other boys, but that when Baxter was murdered, he had\ngrown alarmed. Wylie indeed denied that he had known anything of the\nrobbery, but then he was not a boy whose word could be believed.\n\nThe remainder of that dreadful night was passed by Mr. Eyre, in watching\nthe horses. Anxiously he waited for the first streak of daylight. He then\ndrove the horses to the camp, and once more beheld the body of his\nfellow-traveller. How suddenly had his soul been hurried into eternity,\nand into the presence of his God!\n\nIt was Wylie's business to light the fire, and prepare the breakfast.\nMeanwhile, Mr. Eyre examined the baggage to see how much had been stolen.\nThese were the chief articles he missed. All the bread, consisting of\nfive loaves, some mutton, tea and sugar, tobacco and pipes, a small keg\nof water, and two guns. And what was left for the traveller? A large\nquantity of flour, a large keg of water, some tea and sugar, a gun, and\npistols. But would these have been left, had the ungrateful boys been\nstrong enough to carry them away?\n\nMr. Eyre desired before leaving the fatal spot to bury the body of his\nfriend; but the rocks around were so hard, that it was impossible to dig\na grave. All he was able to do, was to wrap the corpse in a blanket\nbefore he abandoned it forever.\n\nSlowly and silently he left the sorrowful spot, leading one horse,\nwhile Wylie drove the others after it. During the heat of the day, they\nstopped to rest. It was four in the afternoon, and they were soon going\nto set out again, when they perceived at a distance--TWO WHITE FIGURES!\ntwo white figures! and soon knew them to be the two guilty boys, wrapped\nin their blankets.\n\nMr. Eyre had some fear lest the young murderer should shoot him also; yet\nhe thought it wise to advance boldly towards him, with his gun in his\nhand. He perceived that each of the wicked youths held a gun, and seemed\nready to shoot. But as he approached, they drew back. He wished to speak\nto them in order to persuade them not to follow him on his journey, but\nto go another way; however he could not get near them; but he heard them\ncry out, \"O Massa, we don't want you; we want Wylie.\" The boys repeated\nthe name of Wylie over and over again; yet Wylie answered not, but\nremained quietly with the horses. At length Mr. Eyre turned away, and\ncontinued his journey. The boys followed at some distance, calling out\nfor Wylie till the darkness came on.\n\nMr. Eyre was so anxious to get beyond the reach of these wicked youths,\nthat he walked eighteen miles that evening. And he never saw them again!\nI do not know whether he had ever told them of the true God, of that EYE\nwhich never SLEEPS, of that EYE which beholds ROBBERS and MURDERERS in\nthe night;--but whether he had told them or not of this great God, they\nmust have KNOWN that they were acting wickedly when they robbed their\nbenefactor, and murdered his friend; and they must have felt very\nMISERABLE after they had done those deeds.\n\nAlone with Wylie, Mr. Eyre pursued his journey along the high clefts of\nthe Great Bight, or Bay.\n\nFor five days they were without water for the horses; at last they dug\nsome wells in the sand. But by this time one of the horses was grown so\nweak, that he could scarcely crawl along. This horse, Mr. Eyre determined\nto kill for food. Wylie, delighted with the idea, exclaimed, \"Massa, I\nshall sit up, and eat the whole night.\" And he kept his word. While his\nmaster was skinning the poor beast, he made a fire close by, and soon\nbegan tearing off bits of flesh, roasting, and eating them, as fast as he\ncould. Mr. Eyre, after cutting off the best parts of the flesh to dry,\nallowed Wylie to eat the rest. See the young glutton, with the head, the\nfeet, and the inside, permitted to devour it as best he could! He\nhastened to make an oven, in which to bake about twenty pounds to feast\nupon during the night. It is not wonderful, if during that night he was\nheard to make a dismal groaning, and to complain that he was very ill.\nHe _said_, indeed, that it was _working_ too _hard_, had made him ill,\nbut his master thought it was _eating_ too _much_, for whenever he woke,\nhe found the boy gnawing a bone.\n\nNext day, Wylie was not able to spend his whole time over the carcase,\nfor he had to go, and look for a lost foal; but the day after, it was\nhard to get him away from the bones.\n\nFor some time the travellers lived upon dried horse flesh, with a\nkangaroo, or a fish, as a little change. Wylie continued to eat\nimmoderately, though often rolling upon the ground, and crying out,\n\"Mendyat,\" or ill.\n\nOne night he appeared to be in a very ill-humor, and Mr. Eyre tried to\nfind out the reason. At last Wylie said in an angry tone, \"The dogs have\neaten the skin.\" It seems he had hung the skin of a kangaroo upon a bush,\nintending to eat it by-and-bye, and the wild dogs had stolen the dainty\nmorsel. Wylie was restored to his usual good-humor by the sight of some\nfine fishes his master had caught. Next time the boy shot a kangaroo, he\ntook good care of the skin, folding it up, and hiding it.\n\nOne day he was so happy as to catch two opossums in a tree. His master\ndetermined to see how Wylie would behave, if left entirely to himself.\nHe sat silently by the fire, while Wylie was cooking one opossum. The\nboy, having got it ready for his supper, took the other to his sleeping\nplace. His master inquired what he intended to do with it. Wylie replied,\n\"I shall be hungry in the morning, and I am keeping it for my breakfast.\"\nThen Mr. Eyre perceived that the greedy boy intended to offer him neither\nsupper nor breakfast. Accordingly he took out his bag of flour, and said\nto Wylie, \"Very well, we will each eat our own food; you eat the opossums\nyou shot, and I eat the flour I have; and I will give you no more.\" In\nthis manner, Mr. Eyre hoped to show the boy the folly of his selfishness.\nWylie was frightened at the idea of getting no more flour, and\nimmediately offered the smaller opossum to his master, and promised to\ncook it himself. What a selfish, and ungrateful boy! Wylie had a wicked\nheart by nature, and so have _we_. Only _he_ had not been taught what was\nright, as _we_ have been. This is a prayer which would suit well every\nchild, and every man in the world, \"Create in me a clean heart, O God,\nand renew a right spirit within me.\"\n\nMr. Eyre continued to be kind to Wylie, though he saw the boy did not\nreally love him.\n\nBut the troubles of the journey were nearly at an end. At last the\ntravellers saw a ship a few miles from the shore. Oh I how anxious they\nwere that the sailors should see them! What could they do? They kindled a\nfire on a rock, and they made a great deal of smoke come out of the fire.\nSoon a boat was seen approaching the shore. How great was the joy of the\nweary travellers. The sailors in the boat were Frenchmen, but they were\nnot the less kind on that account. They invited Mr. Eyre and Wylie to\naccompany them to their ship.\n\nWhen the young savage found himself on board, he was almost wild with\ndelight, for he had now as much to eat as he could desire, and he began\neating biscuits so fast, that the sailors began to be afraid lest he\nshould eat them all; and they were glad to give him fishes instead, as\nthey could catch plenty of them.\n\nFor twelve days Wylie and his master lived in the ship, and then left it,\nladen with provisions, and dressed in warm clothes.\n\nThey had still many miles to go along the shore, but they suffered no\nmore from want of food and water.\n\nGreat was their rapture when they first caught sight of the hills of St.\nGeorge's Sound; for then they knew their journey would soon end. But they\nhad rivers to cross on the way, and in trying to get the horses over,\nthey nearly lost the poor beasts, and their own lives too. For three days\ntheir clothes were dripping with wet, and the last night was one of the\nworst; but then they knew it was the LAST, and that thought enabled them\nto bear all. So does the Christian feel when near the end of his journey.\nHe is in the midst of storms, and wading through deep waters, even the\ndeep waters of DEATH; but he knows that he is near HOME.\n\nIt was in the midst of a furious storm, that these travellers arrived at\ntheir journey's end. Though they were now close to the town of Albany,\nneither man nor beast were to be seen; for neither would venture out. At\nlast, a native appeared, and he knew Wylie, and greeted him joyfully,\ntelling him at the same time that his friends had given him up for dead a\nlong while ago. This native, by a loud shrill cry, let his countrymen\nknow that Wylie was found; and presently a multitude of men, women, and\nchildren, came rushing rapidly from the town, and up the hill to meet\nhim. His parents and brethren folded him in their arms, while all around\nwelcomed him with shouts of joy. His master was kindly received at the\nhouse of a friend; but he did not meet with so warm a welcome as Wylie,\nfor he was not like him in the midst of his family.\n\nThe kind master overlooked all Wylie's faults during the journey, and\nremembered only his kindness in keeping with him to the end. He even\nspoke in his favor to the government, requesting that Wylie might have a\ndaily allowance of food as a reward for his good conduct. What great\nreason had this young savage to rejoice that he had not listened to the\nenticements of his wicked comrades, when they called him so often by his\nname, and tried to induce him to forsake his kind master!\n\n\nLITTLE MICKEY.\n\nMickey was born in the wilds of Australia; yet he was a highly favored\nboy; for he became servant to a missionary. This was far better than\nbeing, like Wylie, the companion of a traveller.\n\nMickey was a merry and active little fellow, and was a great favorite\nwith his master's children. The older ones taught him to read, and the\nlittle ones played with him. During the day, Mickey took care of the\ncattle, and at night he slept in a shed close by his master's house. He\nmight have been a happy boy, but he soon fell into sin and sorrow.\n\nOne evening he was in the cooking-house, eating his supper with another\nnative boy, his fellow-servant. The oven was hot, and the bread was\nbaking. Mickey opened the door of the oven, and looked in. That was\nwrong; it was the first step towards evil. Mickey had eaten a good\nsupper, and ought to have been satisfied; but, like his countrymen, he\nhad an enormous appetite, and was always ready to eat too much when he\ncould. He took some of the hot bread, and gave some to his\nfellow-servant. How like was his conduct to that of Eve, when she took\nthe fruit, and gave some to Adam!\n\nThat night Mickey was nowhere to be found, nor his little fellow-servant\neither. Where could they be? Their master sent people to search for them;\nbut no one had seen them. It seemed strange indeed, that a boy who had\nbeen so kindly treated, and who had seemed as happy as Mickey, should run\naway. The good missionary and his children were in great grief, fearing\nthat some accident had befallen the lads.\n\nBut when the time came to take the bread out of the oven, they began to\nsuspect why Mickey had gone away. They saw some one had stolen large\npieces of bread. They said, \"Perhaps it was Mickey who stole the bread,\nand perhaps he is ashamed, and so he has run away.\" What a pity it was\nthat Mickey did not come, and confess his fault; he would have been\npardoned and restored to favor. Even a good boy may fall into a great\nsin; but then he will own it, and ask forgiveness, both of God and man.\nStill Mickey was not like those hardened boys who robbed Mr. Eyre, for he\nwas ashamed.\n\nMonth after month passed away, but no Mickey appeared. The missionary\nfeared that the boy would never return, but live and die amongst his\nheathen countrymen.\n\nOne day, however, he was told that a man was at the door, who wanted to\nspeak to him.\n\n\"Who is he?\" inquired the missionary.\n\n\"A schoolmaster, sir,\" replied the servant.\n\n\"And what does he want?\"\n\n\"He has brought with him some native boys, and he wants you to come out\nand see them, and speak a few words to them about their Saviour.\"\n\nThe missionary gladly consented to go out to behold so pleasing a sight,\nas a school of native boys. As soon as he appeared, several young voices\ncalled out, \"Mickey no come.\"\n\nThe missionary was surprised, and inquired of the boys, \"What do you\nmean? where is Mickey?\"\n\n\"Mickey no come,\" repeated the boys. \"He too much frightened.\"\n\n\"Why is he afraid?\" asked the missionary.\n\n\"Because he steal de bread,\" replied the boys.\n\nThe missionary now began to look around, and soon espied Mickey, trying\nto hide himself behind a fence. He called him; but Mickey, instead of\ncoming, went further off. Two or three boys then ran towards him, and\nattempted to bring him back, but Mickey resisted.\n\nThe missionary then went into the house hoping that the trembling\nculprit, seeing he was gone, would come out of his hiding-place.\n\nVery soon he was told, that Mickey was standing with the other\nboys at the door. Then the good missionary appeared again. Looking kindly\nat Mickey, he said, \"Why did you run away?\"\n\n\"Because me steal de bread; me very sorry.\"\n\nThe missionary held out his hand to the sorrowful offender, saying, \"I\nforgive you, Mickey.\" The boy eagerly seized the kind hand, and holding\nit fast, and looking earnestly up in the missionary's face, he said,\n\"When me steal again, you must whip me--and whip me--and whip\nme--very--very much.\" Again the missionary assured the boy he had\nentirely forgiven him--and then Mickey began to jump about for joy.\n\nHow glad Mickey would have been to return to the service of his old\nmaster! But that could not be; for that master was just going to set sail\nfor England, to visit his home and friends, and he could not take Mickey\nwith him. Just before he went, he provided a feast for many of the native\nchildren, and gave them a parting address. Mickey was there--no longer\nafraid--but glad to look up in the face of his beloved friend; for now he\nknew he was forgiven.\n\nWhen the moment came to say \"Farewell,\" the children ran forward, eager\nto grasp the missionary's hand--but none pressed that hand so warmly and\nso sorrowfully, as the little runaway.\n\nI know not whether that generous master, and that penitent servant ever\nagain met upon earth; but I have much hope they will meet in heaven; for\nMickey seems to have been sorry for his sin; and we know the promise: \"If\nwe confess our sins, God is faithful and just to forgive us our sins.\"\nAnd why? Because the blood of Christ cleanseth from all sin. There are\nmany sinners who were once as much afraid of God, as Mickey was of his\nmaster; but who have been pardoned, and who will be present at his\nHEAVENLY FEAST.\n\n\nTHE END.\n\n[Illustration: A CEDAR TREE.]\n\n\n\n\nATTRACTIVE AND INTERESTING\n\nJUVENILE BOOKS,\n\nPUBLISHED BY\n\nROBERT CARTER & BROTHERS.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nBlossoms of Childhood.\n  By the author of the \"Broken Bud.\" 16mo. 75 cents.\n\nBunbury.\n  Glory, Glory, Glory, and other Narratives. 25 cents.\n\nCameron.\n  The Farmer's Daughter. Illustrated. 30 cents.\n\nCommandment with Promise.\n  By the author of \"The Week,\" &c. Illustrated. 75 cents.\n\nDuncan, Henry.\n  Tales of the Scottish Peasantry. 18mo. 50 cents.\n  The Cottage Fireside. 40 cents.\n\nDuncan, Mary Lundie.\n  Rhymes for my Children. 25 cents.\n\nFar Off in Asia and Australia.\n  Described by the author of the \"Peep of Day,\" &c. Illustrated. 16mo.\n\nFry, Caroline.\n  The Listener. Illustrated. $1 00.\n\nFrank Netherton.\n  Or, the Talisman. Illustrated. 16mo.\n\nInfant's Progress.\n  By the author of \"Little Henry and his Bearer.\" Illustrated. 75 cts.\n\nJamie Gordon.\n  Or, the Orphan. Illustrated. 75 cents.\n\nKennedy, Grace.\n  Jessy Allan. 18mo. 25 cents.\n  Decision, or Religion must be all or nothing. 25 cents.\n  Anna Ross. Illustrated. 30 cents.\n\nMichael Kemp.\n  The Happy Farmer's Lad. Illustrated. 40 cents.\n\nMy School Boy Days.\n  Illustrated. 18mo. 30 cents.\n\nMy Youthful Companions.\n  A Sequel to the above. Illustrated. 30 cents.\n\nMy Grandfather Gregory.\n  Illustrated. 25 cents.\n\nMy Grandmama Gilbert.\n  By the same author. 25 cents.\n\nNew Cobwebs\n  To Catch Young Flies. Illustrated. Square. 50 cents.\n\nOpie, Amelia.\n  Tales and Illustrations of Lying. 18mo. 40 cents.\n\nOld Humphrey's\n  Addresses--Observations--Thoughts--Walks in London--Homely\n  Hints--Country Strolls--Sea Captain--Grandparents--Isle of\n  Wight--Pithy Papers--Pleasant Tales--North American Indians.\n  12 volumes. Each 40 cents.\n\nOsborne, Mrs. David.\n  The World of Waters. Illustrated. 75 cents.\n\nPastor's Daughter.\n  By Mrs. L.P. Hopkins. Illustrated. 40 cents.\n\nPeep of Day,\n  and \"Line upon Line,\" and \"Precept on Precept.\" 3 volumes.\n  Each 30 cents.\n\nPollok, Robert.\n  Tales of the Scottish Covenanters. 16mo. 75 cents.\n  Helen of the Glen. 18mo. 25 cents.\n  The Persecuted Family. 18mo. 25 cents.\n  Ralph Gemmell. 18mo. 25 cents.\n\nStories on the Lord's Prayer.\n  By the author of \"Edward and Miriam.\"\n\nSigourney, Mrs. L.H.\n  Water Drops. 16mo. 75 cents.\n  Letters to my Pupils. Portrait. 75 cents.\n  Olive Leaves. Illustrated. 75 cents.\n  Boys' Book. 40 cents.\n  Girls' Book. 40 cents.\n  Child's Book. 35 cents.\n\nSinclair, Catherine.\n  Charlie Seymour. 18mo. 30 cts.\n\nTaylor, Jane.\n  Hymns for Infant Minds. 40 cents.\n  Limed Twigs. Colored plates. 50 cents.\n  Contributions of Q.Q. Illustrated. $1.\n  Original Poems. Illustrated. 40 cents.\n\nTucker, S.\n  The Rainbow in the North. Illustrated. 75 cents.\n\nWeek, The.\n  By the author of the \"Commandment with Promise.\" 75 cents.\n\nWilson, Professor.\n  Lights and Shadows of Scottish Life. 75 cents.","title":"Far Off; Or, Asia and Australia Described: With Anecdotes and Illustrations","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":69058}