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arrogant scribbler of all works sitting down to deal damnation and destruction upon his fellow creatures, with Wat Tyler, the Apotheosis of George the Third, and the Elegy on Martin, the regicide, all the Elegy on Martin, the regicide, all shuffled together in his writing desk. One, of his consolations appears to be a Latin note from a work of a Mr. Landor, the author of "Gebir," whose friendship for Robert Southey will, it seems, "be an honour to him when the ephemeral disputes and ephemeral reputations of the day are forgotten.' I for one neither envy him "the friendship," nor the glory in reversion which is to accrue from it, like Mr. Thelusson's fortune in the third and fourth generation. This friendship will probably be as memorable as his own epics, which (as I quoted to him ten or twelve years ago in "English Bards") Porson said "would be remembered when Homer and Virgil are forgotten, and not till then." For the present, I leave him.'

But to the tragedy of Sardanapalus,' which is founded on an event that occurred about eight hundred years before Christ, recorded by Herodotus, Strabo, and Diodorus Siculus. Sardanapatus, who was the fortieth and last King of Assyria, was celebrated for luxury and voluptuousness. He is represented as passing the principal part of his time among his women, disguised in the habit of a female, and spinning wool for his amusement. This effeminacy irritated his officers, two of whom, Belesis and Arbaces, conspired against him, and collected a numerous force to dethrone him. Sardanapalus, for a time, shook off his indolence, and placing himself at the head of his armies, defeated the rebels in three successive battles; but, at last, he was beaten, and, taking refuge in the city of Ninus, he defended it two years. At length, despairing of success, he burnt himself in his palace, with his eunuchs, women, and treasures, and the empire of Assyria was divided among the conspirators,

Queen; and Myrrha, an Ionian female | Of sensual sloth produce ten thousand tyrants,
slave, and a favourite of Sardanapalus. The worse acts of one energetic master,
Whose delegated cruelty surpasses
The tragedy commences with a fine so-
However harsh and hard his own bearing."
scribes the character of Sardanapalus, that the people say his sceptre is turn-
Salemenes reproaches Sardanapalus
liloquy by Salemenes, which, as it de-
we shall quote entire:-
ed into a distaff;' the king replies, in a
truth which the history of all ages con-

Salemenes (solus).

'He hath wrong'd his queen, but still he is her

lord;

ther;

He hath wrong'd my sister, still he is my broHe hath wrong'd his people, still he is their sovereign,

And I must be his friend as well as subject:
He must not perish thus. I will not see
The blood of Nimrod and Semiramis
Sink in the earth, and thirteen hundred years
Of empire ending like a shepherd's tale;
He must be roused. In his effeminate heart

There is a careless courage, which corruption
Has not all quench'd, and latent energies,
Represt by circumstance, but not destroy'd-
Steep'd, but not drown'd, in deep voluptuous-

ness.

If born a peasant, he had been a man
To have reach'd an empire; to an empire born,
He will bequeath none; nothing but a name,
Which his sons will not prize in heritage :-
Yet, not all lost, even yet he may redeem
His sloth and shame, by only being that
Which he should be, as easily as the thing
He should not be and is. Were it less toil
To sway his nations than consume his life?
To head an army than to rule a harem?
He sweats in palling pleasures, dulls his soul,
And saps his goodly strength, in toils which
yield not

Health like the chase, nor glory like the war-
He must be roused. Alas! there is no sound
[Sound of soft music heard from within.
To rouse him short of thunder. Hark! the

lute,

it.

firms:

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There comes

For ever something between us and what
we deem our happiness: let me remove
The barrier which that hesitating accent
Proclaims to thine, and mine is sealed.
Myr.
My lord!
Sard. My lord-my king-sire-sovereign!
thus it is-

For ever thus, addressed with awe. I ne'er Can see a smile, unless in some broad ban. quet's

Intoxicating glare, when the buffoons
Have gorged themselves up to equality,

Or I have quaffed me down to their abasement.
Myrrha, I can hear all these things, these
Lord-king-sire-monarch-nay, time was I
prized them,

names,

That is, I suffered them from slaves and nobles;

The lips which have been press'd to mine, chill

Comes o'er my heart, a cold sense of the falsehood

Of this my station, which represses feeling
In those for whom I have felt most, and makes

me

The lyre, the timbrel; the lascivious tinklings. But when they falter from the lips I love,
Of lulling instruments, the softening voices
Of women, and of beings less than women,
Must chime in to the echo of his revel,
While the great king of all we know of earth
Lolls crown'd with roses, and his diadem
Lies negligently by to be caught up
By the first manly hand which dares to snatch
Lo, where they come! already I perceive
The reeking odours of the perfumed trains,
And see the bright gems of the glittering girls,
Who are his comrades and his council, flash
Along the gallery; and amidst the damsels,
As femininely garbed, and scarce less female,
The grandson of Semiramis, the man-queen
He comes! Shall I await him? yes, and front

him,

slaves,

Led by the monarch subject to his slaves.'

Such are the materials on which Lord Byron has constructed a noble tragic poem, adhering closely to the And tell him what all good men tell each other, story, and reducing it to all the dra-Speaking of him and his. They come, the matic regularity of which it was capable, in order to approach the unities, — conceiving,' as his lordship says in the Preface, that with any very distant departure from them, there may be poetry, but can be no drama.'

The principal characters in, the drama are Sardanapalus, the King of Nineveh and Assyria; Arbaces, the Mede who aspired to the throne; Beleses, a Chaldean and soothsayer; Salemenes, the king's brother-in-law; Zaria, the

Salemenes remonstrates with the king on his effeminate amusement, and the necessity there is for him to rouse himself and see the danger which threatens him. Sardanapalus exclaims, that his brother-in-law wishes to make him a tyrant. Salamenes answers,

So thou art: Think'st thou there is no tyranny but that Of blood and chains? The despotism of vice

The weakness and the wickedness of luxury The negligence the apathy-the evils

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The second act opens with an inter◄ view between Beleses and Arbaces, at the portal of the hall of the palace, Salamenes, who is invested with the king's signet, attempts, with a body of soldiers, to seize them. Beleses sur renders, but Arbaces defends himself: Sardanapalus enters with his train, and, snatching a sword, separates Salamenes and Arbaces, and pardons the latter and Beleses.

In the third act there is a banquet, during which Sardanapalus is apprised that the conspiracy has broken out.—

Beleses and Arbaces enter with the rebels; Beleses is wounded and disarmed, but is rescued; the rebels, however, are routed. The opening of the fourth act displays great poetic talent:—

Myrrha (sola, gazing.)

I have stolen upon his rest, if rest it be, Which thus convulses slumber: shall I wake him?

No, he seems calmer. Oh, thou God of Quiet! Whose reign is o'er seal'd eyelids and soft dreams,

Or deep deep sleep, so as to be unfathom'd, Look like thy brother, Death-so still-so stirless

For then we are happiest, as it may be, we
Are happiest of all within the realm

Of thy stern, silent, and unawakening twin.
Again he moves-again the play of pain
Shoots o'er his features, as the sudden gust
Crisps the reluctant lake that lay so calm
Beneath the mountain shadow, or the blast
Ruffles the autumn leaves, that drooping cling
Faintly and motionless to their loved boughs.
I must awake him-yet not yet: who knows
From what I rouse him? It seems pain; but if
I quicken him to heavier pain? The fever
Of this tumultuous night, the grief too of
His wound, though slight, may cause all this,
and shake

Me more to see than him to suffer. No:
Let Nature use her own maternal means,-
And I await to second, not disturb her.
Sardanapalus (awakening)

Not so-although ye multiplied the stars,
And gave them to me as a realm to share
From you and with you! I would not so pur-
chase

The empire of eternity. Hence-hence-
Old hunter of the earliest brutes! and ye,
Who hunted fellow-creatures as if brutes;
Once bloody mortals-and now bloodier idols,
If your priests lie not! And thou, ghastly bel-
dame!

Dripping with dusky gore, and trampling on
The carcasses of Inde-away! away!
Where am I? Where the spectres? Where-

no-that

Is no false phantom: I should know it 'midst
All that the dead dare gloomily raise up
From their black gulf to daunt the living,
Myrrha !

Myr. Alas! thou art pale, and on thy brow the drops

Gather like night dew. My beloved, hushCalm thee. Thy speech seems of another world, And thout art loved of this. Be of good cheer; All will go well.

Sard.

Thy hand-so, 'tis thy hand; Tis flesh; gråsp-clasp yet closer, till I feel Myself that which I was.

Myr. At least know me For what I am and ever must be-thine. Sard. I know it now. I know this life again. Ah, Myrrha! I have been where we shall be. Myr. My lord!

Sard. I've been i'the grave, where worms "are lords,

And kings are-But I did not deem it so;
I thought 'twas nothing.

Myr.

So it is; except

Unto the timid, who anticipate
That which may never be.
Sard.

Oh, Myrrha! if

Sleep shows such things, what may not death

disclose?

Myr. I know no evil death can show, which life
Has not already shown to those who live
Embodied longest. If there be indeed
Ashore where mind survives, 'twill be as mind,
All unincorporate; or if there flits

And fetters us to earth-at least the phantom,
Whate'er it have to fear, will not fear death.
Sard. I fear it not; but I have felt-have seen
A legion of the dead.
Myr.

And so have I.

The dust we tread upon was once alive,
And wretched. But proceed: what hast thou
seen?

Speak it,-'twill lighten thy dimmed mind.
Sard.
Methought-

Myr. Yet pause, thou art tired-in pain exhausted; all

Which can impair both strength and spirit: seek
Rather to sleep again
Sard.
Not now; I would not
Dream; though I know it now to be a dream
What I have dreamt:-and canst thou bear to
hear it?

Myr. I can bear all things, dreams of life or death,

Which I participate with you, in semblance Or full reality.

Sard.

And this look'd real,

I tell you: after that these eyes were open,
I saw them in their flight-for then they fled.
Myr. Say on.

Sard. I saw, that is, I dream'd myself Here-here-even where we are, guests as we were,

Myself a host that deem'd himself but guest,
Willing to equal all in social freedom;
But, on my right hand and my left, instead
Of thee and Zames, and our custom'd meeting,
Was rang'd on my left hand a haughty, dark,
And deadly face-I could not recognize it,-
Yet I had seen it, though I knew not where;
The features were a giant's, and the eye
Was still, yet lighted; his long locks curl'd
down

Ere I saw their's; but no-all turn'd upon me,
And stared, but neither ate nor drank, but stared,
Tilt grew stone, as they seem'd half to be,→→
Yet breathing stone, for I felt life in them,
And life in me: there was a horrid kind
Of sympathy between us, as if they
Had lost a part of death to come to me,
And I the half of life to sit by them.
We were in an existence all apart
From heaven or earth-And rather let me see
Death all than such a being!
Myr.
And the end?
Sard. At last I sate marble as they, when

rose

The hunter and the crew; and smiling on me-
Yes, the enlarged but noble aspect of
The hunter smiled upon me should say,
His lips, for his eyes moved not-and the wo-
man's

Thin lips relax'd to something like a smile.
Both rose, and the crown'd figures on each hand
Rose also, as if aping their chief shades-
Mere mimics even in death-but I sate still:
A desperate courage crept through every limb,
And, at the last, I fear'd them not, but laugh'd
Full in their phantom faces. But then-then
The hunter laid his hand on mine: I took it,
And grasp'd it--but it melted from my own,
While he too vanish'd, and left nothing but
The memory of a hero, for he look'd so.

Myr. And was: the ancestors of heroes, too,
And thine no less.

Sard. Ay, Myrrha, but the woman, The female who remain'd;-she flew upon me, And burnt my lips with her noisome kisses, And, flinging down the goblets on each hand, Methought their poisons flow'd around us, till Each form'd a Lideous river. Still she clung The other phantoms, like a row of statues, Stood dull as in our temples, but she still Embraced me, while I shrunk from her, as if, In lieu of her remote descendant, I Had been the son who slew her for her incest. Then then-a chaos of all loathsome things it-Throng'd thick and shapeless I was dead, yet feeling

On his vast bust, whence a huge quiver rose
With shaft-heads feather'd from the eagle's
wing,

That peep'd upbristling through his serpent hair.
I invited him to fill the cup which stood
Between us, but he answer'd not;-I fill'd
He took it not, but stared upon me till
I trembled at the fix'd glare of his eye!
I frown'd upon him as a king should frown-
He frown'd not in his turn, but look'd upon me
With the same aspect, which appall'd me more
Because it chang'd not; and I turn'd for refuge
To milder guests, and sought them on the right,
Where thou wert wont to be. But-

[He pauses.]
Myr.
What instead?
Sard. In thy own chair-thy own place in
the banquet-

I sought thy sweet face in the circle-but
Instead a grey-hair'd, wither'd, bloody-eyed,
And bloody-handed, ghastly, ghostly thing,
Female in garb, and crown'd upon the brow,
Furrow'd with years, yet sneering with the

passion

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A shadow of this cumbrous clog of clay, Which stalks, methinks, between our souls and I turn'd from one face to another, in e Lage to find at last cae which I knew

heaven,

Th

Buried, and raised again-consumed by worms,
Purged by the flames, and wither'd in the air!
I can fix nothing further of my thoughts,
Save that I long'd for thee, and sought for
thee,

In all these agonies, and woke and found thee,
Myr. So shalt thou find me ever at thy side,
Here and hereafter, if the last may be.
But think not of these things-the mere crea-.
tions

Of late events acting upon a frame
Unused to toil, yet over-wrought by toil
Such as might try the sternest.'

Salemenes is mortally wounded, and dies immediately after reaching the royal palace. We now hasten to the closing scene of the tragedy, the deathof Sardanapulus. The soldiers crowd around their sovereign;

Sard.

My best! my last friends! Let's not unman each other-part at once: All farewells should be sudden, when for ever, Else they make an eternity of moments, And clog the last sad sands of life with tears. Hence, and be happy: trust me I am not Now to be pitied; or far more for what past than present; for the future, 'tis In the hands of the deities, if such There be: I shall know soon.

Farewell-fare well. [Exeunt Pania and Soldiers. Myr. These men were honest: it is comfort still

Myr.

That our last looks should be on loving faces.
Sard. And lovely ones, my beautiful!-but In sounding.
hear me!

If at this moment, for we now are on

The brink, thou feel'st an inward shrinking
from

This leap through flame into the future, say it:
I shall not love thee less; nay, perhaps more,
For yielding to thy nature: and there's time
Yet for thee to escape hence.
Myr.
Shall I light
One of the torches which lie heap'd beneath
The ever burning lamp that burns without,
Before Baal's shrine, in the adjoining hall?
Sard. Do so. Is that thy answer?
Myra
That shalt see.
[Exit Myrrha
Sar, (solus). She's firm. My fathers! whom
I will rejoin,

It may be, purified by death from some
Of the gross stains of too material being.
I would not leave your ancient first abode
To the defilement of usurping bondmen;
If I have not kept your inheritance

As ye bequeath'd it, this bright part of it,
Your treasure, your abode, your sacred relics
Of arms, and records, monuments, and spoils,
In which they would have revell'd, I bear with

me.

To you in that absorbing element,

Which most personifies the soul as leaving
The least of matter unconsumed before
Its fiery workings:-and the light of this
Most royal of funeral pyles shall be

Not a mere pillar form'd of cloud and flame,
A beacon in the horison for a day,
And then a mount of ashes, but a light
To lesson ages, rebel nations, and
Voluptuous princes. Time shall quench full
many

A people's records, and a hero's acts;
Sweep empire after empire, like this first
Of empires, into nothing; but even then.
Shall spare this deed of mine, and hold it up
A problem few dare imitate, and none
Despise-but, it may be, avoid the life
Which led to such a consummation.
Myrrha returns with a lighted torch in her
hand, and a cup in the other.

Lo!

Myr.
I've lit the lamp which lights us to the stars.
Surd. And the cup?
Myr. SAT

'Tis my country's custom to
Make a libation to the gods.
A Sard.

And mine

To make libations amongst men. I've not
Forgot the custom; and although alone,
Will drain one draught in memory of many
A joyous banquet past.

Sard.

It is long

Now, farewell; one last embrace.
Mur. Embrace, but not the last; there is one

more.

Sard. True, the commingling fire will mix

our ashes.

Myr. And pure as is my love to thee, shall

they,

Purged from the dross of earth and earthly
passion,

Mix pale with thine. A single thought yet irks

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Rather let them be borne abroad upon
The winds of heaven, and scatter'd into air,
Than be polluted more by human hands
Of slaves and traitors; in this blazing palace,
And its enormous walls of reeking ruin,
We leave a nobler monument than Egypt
Hath piled in her brick mountains, o'er dead
kings,

Or kine, for none know whether those proud
piles

Be for their monarch or their ox-god Apis:
So much for monuments that have forgotten
Their very record!

Myr.
Then farewell, thou earth!
And loveliest spot of earth! farewell Ionia!
Be thou still free and beautiful, and far
Aloof from desolation! My last prayer
Was for thee, my last thoughts, save one, were
of thee!

Sard. And that?

Myr. Is yours.

Sard.

Myr.
Sard.

A Voyage to Africa. By W. Hutton. (Concluded from p. 786.)

MR. HUTTON's return to Cape Coast, from Coomassie, was attended with several unpleasant adventures. He ap pears to have travelled quicker than any of his companions, having per formed the whole distance in six days, which the natives declared was never done before, either by native or European. When a day's journey from Cape Coast, his hammock-bearers deserted him in the dead of the night, and in the heart of the forest. His servant, a little black boy, was his only companion; his feet were dreadfully lacerated, and tied up with the soles of an old pair of shoes and packthread; the path was rugged, and he was entirely destitute of provisions and water. Pursuing his journey, he ob

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[The trumpet of Panîa sounds without. the cause, by feeling a number of large

Hark!

Now!
Adieu, Assyria!

I loved thee well, my own, my fathers' land,
And better as my country than my kingdom.
I satiated thee with peace and joys; and this
Is my reward! and now I owe thee nothing,
Not even a grave. [He mounts the pile,
Now, Myrrha!
Myr.
Art thou ready?
Sard. As the torch in thy grasp.

black ants + crawling up my legs, which stung me dreadfully, by digging their forceps into the sores on my feet. I had some difficulty in tearing them off. My boy, from the agony he suffered, threw down the torch, and I had now the misery to be left in this dismal forest without a

light! Having, with my servant, retreated from the nest of ants, we assisted each

*This is an exclamation the natives gene" rally use when flogged. It signifies father."

[Myrrha fires the pile. Myr. 'Tis fired! I come. The ants here mentioned, are reptiles of [As Myrrha springs forwards to throw her- the most surprising nature. There are different self into the flames, the curtain falls. species of them; red, black, and white. They This tragedy, like every production go in troops of millions and tens of millions; and the regularity and order with which they of Lord Byron, displays great poetic march from place to place are astonishing. In genius, and abounds in the most bril-making their nests they throw up the earth to liant passages. It possesses, however, an incredible height, making hillocks at least [Sardanapulus takes the cup, and after few of the requisites of an acting tra- six or eight feet high, and twenty feet and drinking and tinkling the reversed cup, gedy;-the plot is meagre, the inci- more in circumference; they also make their nests in trees. Bosman, speaking of these ver dents are few and not striking, and min, says, "they come to our forts and cham the situations undramatic. It how-bers in such prodigious swarms, that they tre ever should always be recollected, that quently oblige us to quit our beds in the night

as a drop falls, exclaims

And this libation

Is for the excellent Beleses.
Myr.

Why

stage; that he aims only at producing
a tragic poem; and every person who
reads Sardanapulus must allow it to
be one of no ordinary merit.

Dwells the mind rather upon that man's name Lord Byron does not write for the
Than on his mates in villainy?
Sard.
The other
Is a mere soldier, a mere tool, a kind
Of human sword in a friend's hand; the other
Is master-mover of his warlike puppet:
But I dismiss them from my mind.-Yet pause,
My Myrrha! dost thou truly follow me,
Freely and fearlessly?
And dost thou think

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The tragedy of The Two Foscari,' which is founded on a subject much better adapted to the stage than the story of Sardanapalus, we shall notice at some length in our next,

time; they are strangely rapacious, and ve animal can stand before them. They have often, in the night, attacked one of my live sheep, which I have found a perfect skeleton in the morning, and that so nicely done, that the best master of the dismembering art could not succeed so well, it being impossible for human hands to have done it so artificially. As swift as rats are, they cannot escape them; and as soon as one of them assaults a rat he is inevita bly gone." These ants appear to have a sort of language, calling one another to seize their prey, when they march off with it in good or der, all of them moving in the same direction."

other as well as we could in the dark, in brushing them off our legs.

Worn out with fatigue, having travelled nearly thirty miles, exposed eighteen hours in my wet clothes, from the rain which had fallen during the day; deserted by my people, without any thing to eat or a glass of water to allay my parching thirst; without even a bed of straw to lie down upon; without a great coat or any thing to shelter me from the heavy dews of the night; without the means of making a fire to keep off the wild beasts which every where surrounded me in the forest, I was almost without hope. And if any thing had been wanting to fill up the measure of this night's misery, it was the circumstance of my having travelled, in the early part of the day, in my wet clothes, which were doubly wet from the profuse perspiration I had been thrown into by walking, and which now hung about me the whole night.

To proceed on my journey or to return, with a view of finding my people, in the dark, I conceived was equally hope less; and, indeed, I was too fatigued, and in too much agony to do so. I therefore sat down in the forest (being unwilling to climb a tree) and waited anxiously for morning. In this situation the lines of Mr. Bird, in the " Vale of Slaughden," forcibly occurred to me:"But far remote thy native valley lies, Drear are the scenes thy dubious path supplies. Where, when the night falls chilly on thy head, Wilt thou, sad wanderer, find thy lonely bed? No friendly comfort near to hush the sigh That thou may'st breathe in weary agony.".

Having passed the night in singing the most noisy song I could think of, in which I was assisted by the discordant yells of my boy Quashie (whom I was obliged to keep awake by a gentle rap occasionally on the head with my sabre), I proceeded at day-light, and, in less than half an hour, passed through Yancomfodie; so that, had I continued my journey the preceding night, only half an hour longer, I should have escaped the misery which I have just described.

'On leaving Yancomfodie, we passed many extensive plantations of Indian corn, plantains, and fruit, and crossing a beautiful stream, about a mile from Paintrey, we entered that neat little village, which, it will readily be imagined, was an agreeable relief to me, after the perilous night I had just encountered. Here I was received with the most cordial welcome by my old friend Quamino Hoyenesse, the house-master, with whom we put up on our journey to the capital. A large brass pan of water was immediately provided to bathe my wounded feet, and, stripping off my wet clothes, I wrapped myself up in a *I did not sing from an impression that music would charm the savage beasts, but as I had no fire, I thought it was the best plan to prevent them from coming near me, which I have no doubt, it did; for, although I heard them frequently throughout the night, they did. not molest either me or my companion.

large country-cloth of Hoyenesse's, and in the Delta come from one great river felt comparatively comfortable.' which descends from the north."

'Indeed, although it is true that the massie and elsewhere, have invariably inMoors, whom I have met with at Coo

rivers in the heights of Benin and BeaOn the subject of the Niger and the fra, Mr. Hutton has the following ju-sisted on there being a communication dicious remarks :— between the Niger and the Nile, yet the natives on the coast positively state, that the rivers in the bights of Benin and Biafra are branches of the Niger, which they call Insukussey, or Insookassy, and which, in the Fantee and Ashantee languages, signifies Large Water, or Large River.

'So many theoretical opinions have been hazarded as regards the course and termination of the Niger, that it only remains to be practically decided which of those opinions is correct. Some have supposed that this great river is absorbed by sands, others have endeavoured to prove that the Nile and the Niger are one and the same river, and various conjectures have been offered from time to time, which still leave us in the same incertitude upon this interesting subject; but the clouds which have so long obscured this geographical problem, it is now hoped, will shortly be dissipated.

Among all the hypotheses which have been submitted to the public, that which has lately been published by Mr. M'Queen, carries with it the greatest probability of being correct; not that I come to this conclusion from the facts so distinctly elucidated by that gentleman, but from various inquiries and observa tions during my residence in Africa, and particularly in my last visit to that country (before the publication by Mr. M'Queen), I gave almost precisely the same opinion upon this subject, and stated it, in writing, to the President of the Royal Society of Edinburgh (Mr. Henry, Mackenzie), who did me the honour to read it before that board in April last. I have since seen Mr. M'Queen's publication, and read it with increased satisfaction, from the circumstance of that gentleman's sentiments being so much in accordance with my own, and the whole of his arguments have tended to confirm the opinion I have long entertained; namely, that the Niger terminates in the bights of Benin and Biafra. In support of this opinion, Mr. McQueen has so ably arranged the various authorities, both ancient and modern, that little now remains to be said upon the subject. It may be proper, however, to notice two authorities which he quotes in support of this opinion: the first is Gregory of Abyssinia, who states, that flowing west from the Egyptian Nile, he says pointedly, "descendit enim versus regionem Elwah, et sic illabitur in mare magnum; viz. Oceanum Occidentalem." The other is Mr. Robertson, who states, "that the natives on the coast of Benin and Biafra assert, that all the rivers

'M. Mollien (to whom we are indebted for determining the sources of the Senegal, Gambia, and Rio Grande) has laid down the source of the Niger, in his map, nearly two degrees further to the westward than it was hitherto supposed to be. How far this gentleman may be correct in doing so, we must leave to future travellers to determine; but I have not copied him in my map, as I would not pay so bad a compliment to the diligent researches of the enterprising Park.'

That such was my opinion, I not only stated to Mr. Mackenzie, but also, as long since as 1819, I wrote a letter to a gentieman, to be laid before Lord Bathurst, to the same effect, and suggesting establish ments on the rivers Volta, Lagos, and Formosa, as well as on the island of Fernando Po, which would command an exclusive and extensive trade with all this part of Africa, and by which our merchandise could be transported into the very heart of that country with facility and security. Much credit is due to Mr. M'Queen for the able manner in which he has pointed out the advantages which would result from our taking possession of the island of Fernando Po. It is, however, but justice to others to observe, that he was by no means the first to suggest this, as not only myself, but my respected friends, Sir Charles MacCarthy and Mr. Robertson, submitted the same opinion long ago to his Majesty's government; and Mr. Robertson, in 1919, arrived on the Gold Coast with three vessels, for the purpose of taking possession of this island, under the sanction of his Majesty's government.'

*

*

**

'But to return to the subject of the Niger, we will suppose, for a moment, that the main body of this river does not flow into the bights of Benin and Biafra, yet some other branch of it, to the eastward of the Leasa, I have no doubt will ultimately be found to do so. The Moors, it is true, have positively stated again and again, that the Niger communicates with the Nile, and after all the information that has been collected to support this opinion, it would be presumptuous to say that such is not the fact*. It is possible that these two great rivers may have a communication with each other, and yet be distinct rivers; neither is there any thing improbable in supposing that the Niger may communicate with the Nile, and also throw off a great body of its wa ter, by a tributary stream, to the eastward of the Leasa, not yet discovered.

A stronger proof, indeed, of the strange concatenation of rivers cannot be referred to than that mentioned by Mr. Bowdich, drawn by Baron Humboldt, who represents the courses of the Orinoco and Amazon to be quite opposite to each

* Mr. Dupuis, I believe, is of opinion that the Niger and the Nile unite, and this is also the opinion of others. (Vide Jackson's Account of Morocco and Bowdich's Mission to Ashantee.)

other, notwithstanding their immediate at Accra*. This statement is indeed
connection and there is nothing more confirmed by the new map published by
improbable in the Niger and the Nile be- Mr. Bowdich, on which this river (the
ing connected by the Gir (although flow-Volta) is traced from the Coomba or
ing in opposite directions), than there is Zamma, close to the Kong and Koon-
in the Orinoco and Amazon being con- doongoree mountains.
nected by the Caciquaire.

the public. The introduction of Sir T. Raffles has nothing at all to do with the rest of the volume. With this impression, we shall not enter into any analysis of a work in every respect These scanty notices, regarding the 80 incomplete, but shall merely select Niger and the geography of this part of two of the traditions which it contains. Africa, I trust will be excused, when it is The first, it will be seen, has some reconsidered that I was prohibited from ference to the most universal of all tramaking inquiries upon these subjects.ditions-the Deluge:Vide Instructions, p. 416 and 447.

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According to information we obtained at Coomassie, there is a water communication from Porto Nova and the Lagos river nearly all the way to Egypt; and this is, in a great measure, confirmed by Raja Suran, considering that he had the late Mr. Jarvis, of the company's serBut, from what has now been stated, now become acquainted with the contents vice, with whom I had many conversa- it will be evident that these noble rivers of the land, wished to acquire information tions, who stated that, during his residence afford the greatest facilities for the intro- concerning the nature of the sea. For. at Lagos, he met with Negroes who had duction of our commerce into the very this purpose, he ordered a chest of glass, come from the banks of the Niger, who heart of Africa; and it cannot be too with a lock in the inside, and fixed it to a assured him that there was a water com- often repeated, that whether they have a chain of gold. Then, shutting himself up munication nearly the whole of the way. communication with the Niger or not, in this chest, he caused himself to be let Mr. Bowdich, in a late publication, they ought at least to be explored, as down into the sea, to see the wonders of speaks of having received similar informa- more trade might be thus carried on in God Almighty's creation. At last, the tion, and Mr. Robertson writes also to one month, than on the Gold Coast in a chest reached a land, denominated Zeya,. the same effect, and says he was informed year; there being no rivers of any mag- when Raja Suran came forth from the that canoes have come from Timbuctoonitude near our settlements there, and, chest, and walked about to see the wonto Lagos in three days; but this, I sup- consequently, the transportation of mer-ders of the place. He saw a country of pose, must be a typographical error, as I chandize on the beads of the Negroes for great extent, into which he entered, and saw a people named Barsam, so numecannot imagine that gentleman would hundreds of miles under a vertical sun, write such a manifest absurdity, three must evidently be attended with every rous, that God alone could know their weeks being more likely. The Quolla disadvantage to the African trader, as well numbers. This people were the one half mentioned by the Moors, and alluded to as to the mercantile interests of Great infidels, and the other true believers. by Mr. Bowdich, is said to be the Lagos, Britain.' When they saw Raja Suran, they were and not the Nigert. The Moorish name Mr. Hutton's maps appear to be greatly astonished snd surprised at his is the Bahr Neel or Seer Neel, which the well drawn, and we doubt not are as dress, and carried him before their raja, Moors call all large rivers, and the sea who was named Aktab-al-Arz, who incorrect as the imperfect knowledge we they call "Bahr Mall." "Johiba" is still have of this portion of the globe quired of those who brought him," whence also a figurative name, meaning a great will permit; the coloured engravings new comer."" Whence is he come?" is this man?" And they replied, "he is a river;" and the Negroes call the Nile of give a good idea of the African cos-said the raja. That," said they, "none Egypt "Gulbi," which signifies a sea. It is also called "Neel Massar" and of us know." Then Raja Aktab-al-Arz "Neel Sham." The Niger likewise is asked Raja Suran," whence are you, and known by various names, such as Neel-el, whence have you come?"—" I come Abeed, Joliba, Coudha, &c. from the world," said Raja Suran; “and your servant is raja of the whole race of mankind; and my name is Raja Suran." The raja was greatly astonished at this account, and asked if there was any other world than his own. "Yes, there is,” said Raja Suran; and a very great one, full of various forms." The raja was still more astonished, saying, Almighty This Raja Aktab-al-Arz had a daughter God, can this be possible? He then seated Raja Suran on his own throne. named Putri Mahtab-al-Bahri. This lady was extremely handsome, and her father gave her in marriage to Raja Suran, to whom she bore three sons. The raja was for some time much delighted with this adventure; but at last he began to reflect what advantage it was for him to stay so long below the earth, and how he should be able to carry his three sons with him. He begged, however, his father-in-law to think of some method of conveying him to the upper world, as it would be of great disadvantage to cut off the line of Secander Zulkarneini. His father-in-law assented to the propriety of this observation, and furnished him with a sea-horse, named Sambrani, which could fly through the air as well as swim in the water. Raja Suran mounted this steed amid the lamentations of his spouse, the

The Quolla is reported to be one month's journey from Coomassie, and the Niger one month's journey from the Quolla, According to Mr. Bowdich's account, the Niger is forty-seven days' journey from Kong, to which place the Ashantees can travel in safety. The Mecca itinerary, detailed by that gentlely tends to confirm what I have stated in man, is of considerable value, and strong the first part of this chapter, respecting the route to the Niger, through Ashantee.

Malay Annals: translated from the
Malay Language, by the late Dr.
John Leyden. With an Introduc-
tion by Sir Thomas Stamford
Raffles, F. R. S. 8vo. pp. 361.
London, 1821.

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THIS is an unfinished production of that excellent oriental scholar, Dr. Leyden, who undertook to translate stories of the Malays, but, unfortusome of the most popular traditional nately for that branch of literature of which he was so distinguished an orOn the route to Coomassie, after pass-nament, he died without completing ing the Boosempra, most of the rivers run to the eastward. The Volta or Adirri is said to flow from the Kong mountains, and is a beautiful river, which empties itself into the ocean about one degree to the eastward of our settlement

Mr. Dupuis, in Adams's Narrative, states, upon the information of a Negro of Bambara, that Quollo is the name of a country, and says. it must be to the south-east of Bambara; and, about three journies from the capital of Quolla is a considerable lake, or rather a river, which communicates with the Niger:'

+ This statement I would wish to be un

I

derstood as offering with great diffidence, as had no opportunity of confirming it by the ge

neral reports of the Moors."

his design. The work, from the want
of explanatory notes, with which it was
intended to be enriched, is in many re-
spects unintelligible; and, though it
might have been difficult to get any
one to supply the deficiency, yet, un-
less that had been done, we think it
would have been as respectful to the
memory of the lamented translator, to
have withheld the Malay Annals from

* Colonel Straenberg (whom I frequently'
had the pleasure to meet at table, with the late
General Daendels, after he sailed up this river)
gave me some interesting particulars respecting
his journey; but as they are correctly given
by Mr. Bowdich, I will not repeat them,”

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