the north-north-east, which continued, with intermediate calms, till midnight. The thermometer during the whole of the evening had varied with remarkable activity; during the calms it stood at 86°, but at other moments it fluctuated from 83° to 85°. After midnight the continual flashing of the lightning was awfully grand, and a gale blew fiercely from between the north and the north-east. At one A.M. of the 11th, the tempestuous rage of the wind increased. The storm, which at this moment came from the north-east, suddenly shifted to the north-west. The upper regions of the air were from this time illuminated by incessant lightning, but the quivering sheet of blazing fire was far surpassed in brilliancy by the darts of the electric fluid which were exploded in every direction. It was, however, at a little after two o'clock A.M. that the astounding roar of the hurricane rushed from the north-northwest, and north-west, with a horror and impetuosity that no language can describe, or mind conceive. Some of my friends who heard it, compared it to the agonizing shrieks of millions of human beings in the last agony of despair; and said that there was something most heart-rending and most piercing in the wail or scream, which never ceased. About three, the wind occasionally abated, but only to return in gusts from the south-west, the west, and the north west, with accumulated fury. Fiery meteors were observed by more than one person to fall from the heavens, and one friend told me, he saw one in particular, of a globular form and deep-red hue, descend perpendicularly from a great height, and he remarked that it fell evidently by its own specific gravity. On approaching the earth its motion was accelerated, and it became of a dazzling whiteness, and elongated in form; and, dashing on the ground in one of the paved squares of the town, it splashed around in the same manner as melted lead would have done, if thrown out of the furnace, and was instantly extinct, though the brilliancy and spattering of its particles, when it reached the earth, gave it the appearance rather of a globe of quicksilver. A few minutes after the appearance of this phenomenon, the deafening noise of the wind sank into a solemn murmur, or, more correctly, it resembled a distant roar, and lightning, which since midnight had played in flashes and forked darts with scarcely any intermission, seemed for half a minute to hover between the clouds and the earth, moving frightfully, and with a novel and surprising action. There seemed a vast body of vapour almost touching the houses, which apparently caught fire from the clouds, and conveyed it, flaming, downwards, while another thousand torches were lighted from the earth, and mounted to the sky. While this strange phenomenon continued, the earth was felt to vibrate, in a manner and in time answering with the action of the lightning. Twice, or more, when the coruscations were more brilliant and severe, but less rapid in their motions, the earth received corresponding shocks. The moment this singular alternation of the lightning passing to and from the earth ceased, the hurricane again burst from the western points with a violence exceeding all that had as yet been experienced, and hurling before it the fragments of every unsheltered structure of human industry. The strongest buildings were found to vibrate to the very foundation, and the surface of the very earth trembled as the destroyer passed over it. No thunder was at any time heard, and, as every one concurred in reporting, had the cannon of a million of batteries been discharged, their sound could not have | been distinguished, so overpowering were the horrible roar and yelling of the wind, and the noise of the tumultuous ocean, whose frightful waves threatened to sweep into the abyss all that the other elements might spare. Such, indeed, was the appalling scene, that the heart sank in despair, and the mind became altogether bewildered, and with many, their reason for a time was shaken from her throne. I have heard many of my friends declare that they felt it quite impossible to give any expression of the sensations which then distracted, confounded, and in a manner benumbed, all their faculties. The sight and the hearing were overpowered, and the excess of horror refused admission to fear. One friend told me that, when his senses in some measure returned, he found himself standing up against the wall of the room in which he was sleeping when the hurricane commenced. The roof had been removed from the house, and every article from the room, except some fragments of the wall that had been blown down : how he had escaped destruction he knew not. The unparalleled fury of the tempest continued without any interruption till four o'clock. It blew from the west and southward of west, and was attended with what was considered the dashing of heavy rain, but, from what many have told me, that this rain was quite salt, I am inclined to think it was the waves of the sea carried inland by the force of the wind. After five o'clock the storm now and then abated, during which lulls, the falling of substances which had apparently been carried high into the air-the shrieks of suffering victims-the cries of the terrified inhabitants-and the mournful howling of the dogs, were all distinctly heard, and awakened in the mind of the listener a fearful apprehension of the scenes of death and misery with which he was surrounded. At about half-past five the wind suddenly moved round to the east, and though it may be said that the hurricane still raged (sometimes veering to the south) until seven o'clock, it was not with that force which had been previously experienced. At eight o'clock strong breezes blew from the eastsouth-east, and about that hour the dense body of cloud that hovered over the island began to break up, and at ten A.M. the sun looked down for a few moments upon a scene of wretchedness and misery more sickening to the human heart than any, perhaps, that was ever witnessed. The humble cot, and the most costly mansion, had alike been hurled to destruction. Parents beheld their children, and children their parents, husbands their wives, and wives their husbands, buried in the ruins, or strewed around them, disfigured corpses; others, with fractured limbs, and dreadful mutilations, were still alive, and many of them rescued from under the fallen buildings; and it was dreadful to hear their heart-piercing cries of agony. Many streets in the town were totally impassable, from the houses having been lifted up from their foundations, and thrown in one mass of ruins into the roads. Masses of rubbish, broken furniture, ships' spars, packages of merchandise, huge blocks of mahogany, seemed to have been washed up, and carried by the wind or the tide to great distances, so as completely to block up the streets and highways. The whole face of the country was laid waste, scarcely any sign of vegetation existed, and what did remain was of a sickly green. The surface of the earth appeared as if fire had passed over it, scorching and burning up everything. The few trees that were still standing were stripped of their boughs and foliage, and appeared as withered trunks. The garrison of St. Ann's, which is about two miles distant from Bridgetown, and considered the head-quarters of our West India force, presented a far more deplorable appearance than did the citadel of Antwerp after all the battering which the French could bestow upon it. An officer of the commissariat, his three children, with a female relative, and two servants, were buried in the ruins of their habitation, and perished. The number of non-commissioned officers and soldiers, and of women and children, that were killed, was only forty-three; but about three hundred, including all classes, were very seriously hurt. The total number of persons killed in the island, or who died of their wounds, was about 2,500, and the number of wounded exceeded 5,000, while the amount of property destroyed was estimated at nearly two millions and a half, island currency. Many extraordinary circumstances, and most extraordinary escapes, are recorded,-none certainly more extraordinary than that related to me by my late excellent friend Colonel Diggens, then barrackmaster at St. Ann's. called iron-wood and with which, for hardness, no European wood can be compared. To those who were exposed in the open fields, the heavens often appeared as all on fire, with balls of fire flying in all directions, and bursting exactly like shells from a mortar. A piece of lead, weighing about 150 pounds, was carried more than 600 yards; and one weighing 400 pounds, was lifted by the wind and carried to a distance of 560 yards. I mention these striking facts which were fully ascertained, to show the force and strength of the hurricane. There are several instances recorded, of children having been blown from the arms of those who were endeavouring to escape with them, and who were afterwards found alive, and recovered. At Mount Wilton, a negro woman had her head severed from her body by a slate which had been carried from the roof of a dwelling-house at Bloomsbury, nearly a mile from where she stood. I might mention a thousand other accidents and hair-breadth escapes, but I believe I have said enough to give the reader a tolerable idea of the awful nature of this visitation, and the ruin and misery which it entailed upon Barbados, to which island its fury was chiefly confined. The only other island to which it extended, with any great degree of violence, was St. Vincent's, where property to the amount of more than 160,000l. was destroyed. [From SIR ANDREW HALLIDAY'S West Indies.] III. ANCIENT Books. A mother, a daughter, a female slave, and a child of two years of age, were living together in a cottage near his garden-wall. When the hurricane was at its height, they heard the roof of their cottage going off, and immediately rushed to the door for safety, the daughter carrying the child. At the same instant the door was blown from its hinges and fell down, and, in the horror of the moment, the young lady dropped or lost the child, and during the night it was no more heard of. Next morning, the mother and EASY LESSONS ON CHRISTIAN EVIDENCES. daughter were found alive, in an open space of ground near the ruins of their cottage, and conveyed to the residence of Colonel Diggens. The person who had discovered these females, and had conveyed them to a place of shelter, then went to assist the Colonel in extricating his horses from the ruins of their stable; while so employed they heard the cry of an infant, and, upon examining around, discovered at a little distance from them a child about two and a half years old, perfectly naked, and black with cold. This was the child which had been lost, when the mother and daughter had made their escape from their cottage. A wall, nine feet high, divided that cottage from the garden of Colonel Diggens, and the conjecture was, that the child had fallen from the arms of the young lady, and dropped upon the outer door of the cottage, which had just then blown down, and that, by some strange swirl of the wind, this door had been lifted up with the child upon it, carried over the nine-feet wall, and deposited in the Colonel's garden, where both it and the child were now found. I have often seen the hero of this adventure, who was from that moment adopted by the kind-hearted Colonel. Many persons, I was assured, in their endeavours to escape into the open streets, were cut in two by the shingles blown from the roofs of the houses; and I myself saw, at the residence of the Venerable Archdeacon Eliot, a branch of a tree through which a fragment of a shingle had passed, and which had been retained in its position by a large nail that went across the fissure. If we consider the yielding nature of the branch, and the blunt edge of the shingle, we shall be able to form some idea of the force which could propel it through so hard a substance, so as to split the branch as if a wedge had been driven through it. At the residence of Thomas G. B. Bushy, Esq. a piece of soft deal was driven into the branch of a fustic-tree it was believed that this deal had been blown from the naval hospital, a distance of one-third of a mile. It was a soft fir deal, and the branch through which it had penetrated is one of the species You have been taught that Christians,—even those who have not received what is called a learned education,-ought to have some good reason for being Christians; and not to believe in our religion, as the Pagans do in theirs, merely because their fathers did so before them. But some persons suppose that, however strong the evidences may be for the truth of Christianity, these must be evidences only to the learned, who are able to examine ancient books, and to read them in the original languages; and that an ordinary unlearned Christian must take their word for what they tell him. You do, indeed, read in English the accounts of what Jesus and his Apostles said and did, and of what befell them. But the English book which we call the Bible, professes to be a translation of what was originally written in Greek and Hebrew, which you do not understand. And some one may perhaps ask you, how you can know, except by taking the word of the learned for it, that there are these Greek and Hebrew originals which have been handed down from ancient times? or how you can be sure that our translations of them are faithful, except by trusting to the translators? So that an unlearned Christian must, after all, (some people will tell you) be at the mercy of the learned, in what relates to the very foundations of his faith. He must take their word (it will be said) for the very existence of the Bible in the original languages, and for the meaning of what is written in it; and, therefore, he may as well at once take their word for everything, and believe in his religion on their assurance. And this is what many persons do. But others will be apt to say, "How can we tell that the learned have not deceived us? The Mohammedans take the word of the learned men among them; and the Pagans do the same; and if the people have been imposed upon by their teachers in Mohammedan and Pagan countries, how can we tell that it is not the same in Christian countries? What ground have we | days, and put forth as a trans.ation from an ancient for trusting with such perfect confidence in our Christian teachers, that they are men who would not deceive us?" The truth is, however, that an unlearned Christian may have very good grounds for being a believer, without placing this entire confidence in any man. He may have reason to believe that there are ancient Greek manuscripts of the New Testament, though he never saw one, nor could read it if he did. And he may be convinced that an English Bible gives the meaning of the original, though he may not trust completely to any one's word. In fact, he may have the same sort of evidence in this case, which every one trusts to in many other cases, where none but a madman would have any doubt at all. For instance, there is no one tolerably educated, who does not know that there is such a country as France, though he may have never been there himself. Who is there that doubts whether there are such cities as London, and Paris, and Rome, though he may have never visited them? Most people are fully convinced that the world is round, though there are but few who have sailed round it. There are many persons living in the inland parts of these islands who never saw the sea; and yet none of them, even the most ignorant clowns, have any doubt that there is such a thing as the sea. We believe all these, and many other such things, because we have been told them. Now suppose any one should say, "How do you know that travellers have not imposed upon you in all these matters, as it is well known travellers are apt to do? Is there any traveller you can so fully trust in, as to be quite sure he would not deceive you?" What would you answer? I suppose you would say, one traveller might, perhaps, deceive us ; or even two or three might possibly combine to propagate a false story, in some case where hardly any one would have the opportunity to detect them; but in these matters there are hundreds and thousands who would be sure to contradict the accounts if they were not true; and travellers are often glad of an opportunity of detecting each other's mistakes. Many of them disagree with each other in several particulars respecting the cities of Paris and Rome; and if it had been false that there are any such cities at all, it is impossible but that the falsehood should have been speedily contradicted. And it is the same with the existence of the sea, the roundness of the world, and the other things that were mentioned. It is in the same manner that we believe, on the word of astronomers, that the earth turns round every twenty-four hours, though we are insensible of the motion; and that the sun, which seems as if you could cover it with your hat, is immensely larger than the earth we inhabit, though there is not one person in ten thousand that has ever gone through the mathematical proof of this. And yet we have very good reason for believing it; not from any strong confidence in the honesty of any particular astronomer, but because the same things are attested by many different astronomers, who are so far from combining together in a false account, that many of them rejoice in any opportunity of detecting each other's mistakes. Now an unlearned man has just the same sort of reason for believing that there are ancient copies, in Hebrew and Greek, of the Christian sacred books, and of the works of other ancient authors, who mention some things connected with the origin of Christianity. There is no need for him to place full confidence in any particular man's honesty. For if any book were forged by some learned men in these book, there are many other learned men, of this and of various other countries, and of different religions, who would be eager to make an inquiry, and examine the question, and would be sure to detect any forgery, especially on an important subject. And it is the same with translators. Many of these are at variance with each other as to the precise sense of some particular passage; and many of them are very much opposed to each other, as to the doctrines which they believe to be taught in Scripture. But all the different versions of the Bible agree as to the main outline of the history, and of the discourses recorded; and therefore an unlearned Christian may be as sure of the general sense of the original as if he understood the language of it, and could examine it for himself; because he is sure that unbelievers, who are opposed to all Christians, or different sects of Christians, who are opposed to each other, would not fail to point out any errors in the translations made by their opponents. Scholars have an opportunity to examine and inquire into the meaning of the original works; and therefore the very bitterness with which they dispute against each other, proves that where they all agree they must be right. All these ancient books, in short, and all the translations of them, are in the condition of witnesses placed in a witness-box, in a court of justice, examined and cross-examined by friends and enemies, and brought face to face with each other, so as to make it certain that any falsehood or mistake will be brought to light. No one need doubt, therefore, that the books of our English New Testament are really translated from ancient originals in Greek, and are, at least, not forgeries of the present day; because unbelievers in Christianity would not have failed to expose such a forgery. But in the case of the books of the Old Testament, we have a remarkable proof that they could never have been forged by Christians at all; because they are preserved and highly reverenced by the unbelieving Jews in various parts of the world at this day. These are the Scriptures which the Jews of Beræa were commended for searching with diligent care. In these they found the prophecies to which the Apostles were accustomed to refer, as proving that Jesus was the promised Christ, or Messiah. And the history goes on to relate that the consequence of their searching those Scriptures was that "many of them believed." THE instinctive love of self-preservation in cailaren amongst the higher classes, is seldom so active as in those who are less objects of care and solicitude; because, being accustomed to depend on the watchfulness of others, they lose that quick perception of danger which is as natural to infants as it is to animals. The eagerness for knowledge, also, which is born with all children, becomes surfeited by over-indulgence, and enervated by too much aid. But the curiosity of young people should be excited on all useful subjects, and ought to receive such assistance as shall encourage their own minds to work out the rest.——SIN- CLAIR'S Modern Accomplishments. THE BREAD FRUIT TREE, THIS tree, whose fruit is so useful, if not necessary, to the inhabitants of most of the islands of the South Seas, has been chiefly celebrated as a production of the Sandwich Islands; and is not confined to these alone, but is also found in all the countries bordering on the Pacific Ocean. It was first discovered by Europeans, on the coast of Malabar; afterwards it was met with at the Molucca Islands, Java, Batavia, and neatly lined at the bottom and sides with grass; the whole is then covered with leaves, and heavy stones laid on them: in this state it undergoes a second fermentation, which renders it sour, after which it suffers no change for some months. It is taken out of the hole as it is wanted for use, and being made into balls, is wrapped up in leaves ana baked. After it is dressed, it will keep five or six weeks. Otaheite, &c. The fruit of the trees which are grown | which is dug for that purpose, generally in the house, at Otaheite is considered better adapted for food than any other sort, being entirely free from seeds. Rumphius, who met with this tree in the Ladrone Islands, describes it as somewhat larger than our apple-tree: the fruit hangs on boughs like apples, and is of the size of a penny loaf, with a thick, tough rind, which, when full ripe, turns yellow. The natives gather it before the fruit is quite ripe, and bake it till the crust is pretty black: they then rasp it, and there remains a pretty loaf, with a tender, yellow crust, and the crumb of it as soft and sweet as a new-baked roll. The fruit is in season for about eight months in the year, and in order to have it in good order, it ought to be baked fresh every day. 'But," says Rumphius, "there is a remedy for this, which is, cutting the loaf into slices when it is new, and drying them in the sun, by which they are changed into the pleasantest rusk that can be eaten." Captain Cook describes the tree as equal to a middling-sized oak, and the fruit as large as a small child's head. He compares the taste to that of crumb of bread mixed with Jerusalem artichoke. "The fruit is also cooked in a kind of oven, which renders it soft, and something like a boiled potato, not quite so farinaceous as a good one, but more so than those of a middling sort.' Of the bread-fruit, they also make three dishes, by putting either water, or the milk of a cocoa-nut to it; then beating it to a paste with a pestle, and afterwards mixing it with ripe plantains, bananas, or a sour paste which they call mahie. As there are four months in the year, during which the fresh bread-fruit is not to be obtained, they preserve a portion of it in the following manner. The fruit, as usual, is gathered just before it becomes ripe, and being laid in heaps, is closely covered with leaves: in this state it undergoes a fermentation which renders it disagreeably sweet; the core is then taken out entire, which is done by gently pulling out the stalk, and the rest of the fruit is thrown into a hole, It is not the fruit alone of this valuable tree which is useful to the inhabitants, but they form their garments of the fibres of the bark, and the wood is employed in the construction of their dwellings. As if nothing might be wanting to render the gift of the bread-fruit tree, in every respect beneficial, it is a plant propagated with so much ease, that "If a man plant ten trees in his life-time, which he may do in one hour, he will as completely fulfil his duty to his own and future generations, as the native of our less temperate climate can do, by ploughing in the cold Winter, and reaping in the Summer's heat, as often as these seasons return." The climate of the English islands in the West Indies being of about the same temperature as that of Otaheite, the English government entertained the idea of transporting a number of these trees to Jamaica. To this end, in 1791, they despatched to Otaheite a vessel of 400 tons burden, named the Providence, together with a small tender named the Assistant. These were under the command of Captain Bligh, whose providential escape after the mutiny of his crew, on a previous attempt to remove this valuable tree, is so well known*. They reached Otaheite in the beginning of April, 1792, and arrived in the West Indies with their cargo in January, 1793. The fruit produced by these trees has been in great abundance; but it is said not to be so large, or so fine flavoured, as that which is produced in its native country. See Saturday Magazine, Vol. III., pp. 203, 243. LONDON: Published by JOHN WILLIAM PARKER, WEST STRAND; and sold by all Booksellers. GENERAL VIEW OF THE LAKE OF WINDERMERE, FROM THE EAST. HE human mind at all times, but more especially when free from present cares, takes pleasure in contemplating the wild beauties of nature; and among such objects sylvan scenery, the grove, the grotto, the clear blue lake, and the lofty rugged mountain with its foaming cascades, have peculiar charms. Understanding that in no part of England were all these delightful objects to be seen to greater advantage than in Westmoreland, I made up my mind to pay a visit to those romantic regions. Early on a fine summer's morning, about the middle of June, I set out on foot from the town of Kendal. The sun was shining brightly, and the morning was rather warm; I, therefore, proceeded leisurely along, enjoying the delightful scenery of the wild country around me. Along the right side of the road ranged steep and lofty mountains, on whose ridges were browsing thousands of little black-faced horned sheep; it was wonderful to see these nimble animals skipping, almost with the agility of monkeys, in situations where one would scarcely imagine anything but a bird would venture. I walked at least five miles before I met with anything like a publichouse, but at length reached the little village of Stevelly, situated amongst wild rocks and roaring waters. Near the rude old bridge stands the Angel and Child Inn, where I got a pretty good breakfast at a moderate charge. This village, which is in a very ruinous condition, consists of about a dozen loosely constructed houses, much like the Highland shielings, VOL. XI. most of them thatched with straw. A little further on, at the top of a rocky and almost perpendicular hill, stand a few rude-looking houses, and a little church, called Ings Church. Some way further on is an old bridge, built over a beautiful clear river, running rapidly over some large stones. About a mile further on, I came to the top of a hill, from whence there is a magnificent view of the famous Lake Windermere, studded with its numerous islands, and surrounded by an amphitheatre of lofty and rugged mountains. Nothing more grand or picturesque can be imagined than this natural panorama, and vain indeed would be the attempt to describe a scene which is far beyond description. The point from which I viewed it is the side of a large range of hills, that form the eastern boundary of the lake, and sufficiently high for the tourist to look down upon all the objects in the wide-extended vale below, a circumstance of great importance, and which a painting cannot imitate. The valley upon which you gaze is winding and extensive, upwards of twelve miles long, and every side enclosed with grounds which rise in a bold but varying form; in some places bulging into mountains, abrupt and wild, though in most parts cultivated; in others, branching into rocks, craggy, pointed, and irregular. In other places are hills covered with noble woods, presenting a gloomy brown shade, almost from the clouds to the reflection of the trees in the clear water below; thence waving into slopes of cultivated enclosures, adorned 330 |