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Advantages of keeping Cows.—New Zealand.
mer was heard.in its construction; its cedar roof, and pavement of precious stones, brought crowned heads to view it with admiration; it was formed of so many cubits in length and breadth, as to admit of every, even the humblest worshipper; dedicated to the honour of the Holy of Holies, the glory of the Lord has filled it: like its prototype, which fell not but with the fall of Jerusalem, we may rest assured that it will not end here but with the general conflagration; or if this hope prove fallacious, let us remember, that as no place of worship, no edifice, was suffered by the Almighty to stand on that site where the holy temple once stood; so, if this faith be permitted to go to rack, no religion of any kind whatsoever will be left remaining. Be it our duty to watch in its portals; to guard that no characters of shame be indented on its marble purity. As some inscription was usually prefixed over the pious buildings of the ancients, this (if I may be allowed to extend the similitude) shall be the writing over our tabernacle: Ye heirs of a better covenant, walk with humble reverence in the house of God, and ye shall be wiser than the sages of antiquity; hear with meek submission the words of life revealed to you, and ye must be better men.
W. C. T.
ADVANTAGES OF COTTAGERS. KEEPING COWS.
The Provincial Committee for Encouragement of Industry, and Reduction of Poor's Rates, cannot too anxiously impress on the legislature, and the country, the advantages enjoyed by the labourer when in possession of a cow; especially as this may be realized on a small portion of arable land.
That the children of the poor, in almost a peculiar manner, stand in need of milk, is certain, not to mention that the cow furnishes also a supply for a pig. By circulating the following extract from a correspondent, (an overseer in Norfolk) attention may be invited to this important object; and as the letter is two years old, the probability is, that even a stronger case might at this moment be made out.
"In the year 1798, the poor-rates in this parish, (North Creak, Burnham,)
were Is. 9d. in the pound, per year. At that time a number of Cows were kept by the Cottagers upon broad commonable roads, in the summer; and they were assisted with food by the farmers in their straw-yards, &c. in the winter; by this means, those who kept a cow did not think of applying to the parish for relief. About this time, the farmers began to plough up the roads; of course the number of cows kept lessening every year, as their pasture was decreasing by the plough. I perceive by the parish books, as the cows decreased the rates increased. In seven years' time, the rates were increased to 3s. in the pound; at that time only a few cows were kept by the poor people. In a few years after, those few were obliged to be sold, and the rates then increased to six shillings in the pound! The rates have stood at this with very little variation ever since. We have only two poor men now that have one cow each; I think one has five, and the other six children. The man with six children, hires two acres of poor land at about 30s. per acre, more than half a mile from his house, and after his day's labour is done for his master, he goes with his wife and little family to weed, and till his land. The other poor man is more fortunate. His small patch of land lies near to his cottage, about an acre. These, two of the largest families we have in the parish, I believe, are honest, independent parishioners, earning their 15s. per week at labour, and with their cow, I believe, are the happiest two families in the parish. I am sorry to see so many poor families with the same earnings, (as to wages,) but no cows, come to the parish for relief. These two families make no application for relief; but those with three or four children we are obliged to relieve." For the Provisional Committee, Benjamin Wells,
INTERESTING PARTICULARS RESPECT-
"New Zealand is situated between the latitudes of 34 and 48 degrees south, and between the longitudes of 166 and 180 degrees east from Greenwich. This place was supposed to be 182
131 Interesting Particulars respecting New Zealand.
part of a southern continent, but it is now known to consist of two large islands, divided from each other by a strait four or five leagues broad.
"Every kind of European fruits, grain, and plants, would flourish here in the utmost luxuriance. The winters are milder than those in Europe, and the summers not so hot, though more equally warm.
"The inhabitants of these islands are in general very stout and robust, and are equal in muscular strength to the largest men in Europe; their number is supposed to be nearly one million. Their colour in general is brown, but not much more so than that of a Spaniard, who has been much exposed to the sun. Both the men and women have good features. Their dress consists of mats made of flax, which grows in abundance in the island, and is of a very fine texture. The natives are accustomed to mark or tattoo their bodies, and particularly their faces.
"They have various weapons of war, the principal of which are lances, darts, and a kind of batt-le-axe.
"Their religious principles are little known. Some writers say, that they believe the souls of such as are killed in battle, and whose flesh is afterwards eaten by their enemies, are doomed to perpetual fire; while the souls of those who die a natural death, or whose bodies are preserved from such ignominious treatment, ascend to the habitation of the gods.
"The method of disposing of their dead is, first, if the deceased has been a person of rank, his friends put him in the earth for a few weeks or months, and then take up his body, and scrape the decayed flesh off the bones, and collect them together; then the priest sets apart a number of men, whose duty it is to carry the bones to a cave at a distance. Every person who touches a part of the body, is in a state of pollution for a certain number of days.
"They have no places for worship, nor do they ever assemble together for religious services. They have priests, whose business it is to address the gods in prayer, for the welfare of the natives in their temporal affairs, for victory over their enemies, or for success in their fishing excursions. It is stated that they allow of polygamy, and that it is not uncommon for one
man to have two wives. However, I did not discover any thing of this kind while I was among them.
"Every family is divided into three classes; the first consists of the father, mother, children, and relatives; the second of the person called the steward, his wife, and children; and the third of the cook or common servant, and his family. These people never eat food in their houses; they have a superstitious notion among them, that food pollutes the house; and from this persuasion, they always take their food in the open air.
"The manner of dressing their victuals is as follows. It is the duty ot the cook to prepare the meat. This he does by making a large hole in the earth, which he paves with stones; he then puts in wood and fire to heat the stones; after the fire has ceased to burn, the ashes are removed. Then the potatoes are thrown into the hole, the pork or fish is placed upon the potatoes, and covered up, first with a piece of old mat, and then with earth. When the cook thinks the food sufficiently dressed, he gives the word of command to all who may be concerned. They place themselves in small circles, then the man uncovers the provision, and if the piece of pork be large, he takes hold of it with one hand, and with the fingers of the other tears off pieces, throws the first to the master, the second to the mistress, and so on till all are served."
That the New Zealanders are cannibals, the evidence is most unequivocal. Of this horrid practice, we gave an instance in col. 27 of our preceding number, and the dreadful fact is confirmed by the account now before us. Alluding to that circumstance, the writer says, " In the company which waited for the body of the roasted youth, was shewn to mc the mother of the child. The mother and child were both slaves, having been taken in war. However, she would have been compelled to share in the horrid feast, if they had not been prevailed upon to give up the body.
"But notwithstanding this melancholy picture of New Zealand cannibalism, I believe they are very capable of receiving religious instruction, and a knowledge of arts in general. They are very ingenious and enterprising, and discover a surprising willingness to receive information. I did not 133
The Moralizer,—No. 5.
visit any one village, where the principal chiefs did not strongly urge my residence among them, and I believe that God is preparing them to receive the ever-blessed gospel of peaoe.
"The following is what the Rev. S. Marsden has related to me from time to time, while I resided in New South Wales:
"With respect to the tradition relative to the Moon, Mr. Marsden observed, ' I was one evening, when the moon was shining very bright, talking to a New Zealander, about the creation of the heavenly bodies. The moon at length became the topic of our conversation. He told me, that there was a man at New Zealand a long time ago, named Uona, who was going for some water one very dark night, and by accident hurt his foot, and though there were neither moon nor stars to be seen at the time, while Uona was in this situation, and so lame as not to be able to return to his house, the moon came suddenly upon him. Uona laid hold of a tree to save himself, but in vain, for the moon carried both him and the tree away:' and there they believe he is to this day.
"The New Zealanders believe that all their comforts and enjoyments are from the favour of their Attua, (their great god.) They also believe, that if they are good, he will do them good; but if wicked, he will be angry with them. They believe, that if a man was a robber, or in any way wicked, his potatoes would not grow when planted, and he would catch no fish when he went a fishing, and that his wife and children would also be wicked.
"Mr. Marsden has likewise observed, that a New Zealand chief with whom he was acquainted, said to him with apparent concern, that a New Zealand man did not know how to make a Sunday; bnt as soon as he returned he would make one, and requested me to get him some colours at Port Jackson, that he might on a Sunday morning hoist a signal, and let his people know it was the Sabbath. This young chief had noticed the observation of the sabbath-day in England and Port Jackson; and he said he is persuaded, that his countrymen will sanction the institution of the Sabbath. They would have had one before now, he says, but they did not know how to make a Sunday,"
THE MORALIZER.—NO. 5.
Pejor est bello, timor ipse belli Seneca.
Of a multiplicity of events, which are allowed to be real evils, few have not been more or less the subjects of undue exaggeration. Viewed relatively, rather than abstractedly, they have been arrayed in unsubstantial terrors; have been objects of aversion rather than of evitation; and have paralyzed by their menaces, those powers which should have been employed in anticipating their occurrence, and in preventing their consequences. To this cause, in its application to many cases, may be attributed the truth of the remark, that " Misfortunes seldom come alone." We are aware, how fatally the passion of fear has operated in instances too numerous and too notorious to be recorded; how often it procures the fate which it deprecates, and yields to the pressure of a calamity, which it was intended to divert. Thus we confer on real evil 'a prolific power, an inherent ability of propagating its kind; multiply our miseries, aggravate the wretchedness which we lament, and " feel," as a certain writer says, " a thousand deaths in fearing one." But it is not sufficient, that there really exist causes for fear; their existence is often visionary; and I am disposed to give Menander equal credit as a poet and as a philosopher, when I hear him say,—
"'Hfttic St xa9lC rS>v avayicaiwv KaxHv, "Airoi Trap' avT&v Hrepa ■jrpomrop'iZ.oufv "Ainriutff, uiv jrrwpj; rle. avrnry Kanuig, "'0pyi?(i/J£9'. dv ifiy Tic ivvitvusv, a^oSpa "#o/38tS' avyXavl avaicpdyti SiSoiKafiev," Sfc. And whilst " cowardice is mistaken for elegance," nature will be disguised with horrors, and peopled with monsters. The air is crowded with sylphs and genii, and the earth swarms with ghosts and apparitions. Every storm is the vehicle of a magician, and every eclipse the presage of doomsday. We cannot enjoy the fireside circle, without ominous apprehensions, nor read by candlelight, without affixing some certain explanation, to every appearance which our luminary presents. These effeminate panics are not uncommonly, constitutional, and involuntary. The power of the imagina136
The Moralizer.—No. 5.
tion is greater than that of reason; and education has, in many instances, nurtured those dispositions, which it should have aimed to suppress. It argued no inconsiderable superiority of information, as well as of resolution, in the son of Philip, to remove the uneasiness of his soldiers, on the appearance of a lunar eclipse preceding the battle of Arbela; and to discern the futility of those predictions, which would have prevented him from making Babylon the centre of his conquests, the seat of his empire, and the theatre of his triumphs. The imbecility and impolicy of listening to fears, which have no solid foundation, and no profitable tendency, demand neither confirmation from argument, nor elucidation from example. But the task of a Moralist, in cases where error is unconcealed, is rather to shew the means of escape, than to announce the existence of danger. To draw a faithful line of /distinction betwixt reality and romance; to guard candour against the admission of prejudice; to vindicate circumspection from the charge of cowardice; and to defend the territories of reason from the irruptions of fancy,—
11 Hoc opus, hie labor est."
"In this the task, the mighty labour, lies."
Those apprehensions, which result from frequent experience of the inconstancy and the depravity of mankind, though not altogether unreasonable, are always disgusting. He who has suffered from the treachery of professed friendship, or the assaults of open hostility, may be expected to look with les3 complacency on the attentions, and with less candour on the failings, of those with whom he is connected. But let him not conceive that all are deceitful, because some have proved false. Let him not, by brooding over the memory of a disaster, imbitter those enjoyments which are yet in reversion for him. Let him remember that all pleasure is not happiness, nor all misfortune misery. But the discouragements inspired by an imperfeet inspection of our own powers, or an improper estimate of the efficacy of those with which we know ourselves invested, must not be overlooked. There is perhaps no inquiry more interesting, and at the same time more intricate, than one which conducts into the labyrinth of the human mind;
—a labyrinth in which we are in danger of ranging at random, through the mazes of idle speculation; or of settling with composure, on the fanciful elevations of self-importance. To a proper performance of our several parts, on the stage of human existence, some degree of acquaintance with ourselves is absolutely essential. The languor of depression will naturally succeed to extravagance of expectation, but defeat is not unfrequently less disgraceful than conquest. The meanest advocate of truth, when sinking under the power of a mightier foe, will fall with the triumphant exultation,—
"'Tis true I perish, bnt I perish great."
But of all tbe doleful tones which have recently interrupted social pleasure, and roused patriotic feeling, the national knell of departed glory and ruined credit, has been longest and loudest continued. As a matter of universal concern, few villages and even hamlets have not furnished an echo to the sound. Its dreary monotony is at length familiarized to the public ear, and, like other reports of a similar nature, the o'ftenerithasbeen repeated, the less it has been regarded. There have existed, and there certainly are at present, grounds for complaint—" Rumor publicus non omninb frustra est."—But with what benefit have these complaints been attended? That they have served to engender the whispers of disaffection, and the vociferations of disgust, cannot be denied; but that they have been effectual in producing any salutary consequences, few will have the hardihood to affirm. It is said of the inhabitants of Am\ chc, a city of Italy, that they were so frequently harassed with false rumours of hostile invasion, as to enact a law, prohibiting the circulation of any such reports; and that their enemies availing themselves of this new regulation, made a sudden inroad on their territories, and roused them from their slumber of imaginary security, by imposing on them the yoke of servitude. An attempt to suppress the voice of public opinion, in a free country, would not only be hazardous, but impracticable. The erection of aBastile on English ground, or the establishment of an Inquisition in the British metropolis, might be adopted with equal appearance and
On the Penal Laws.
justice, and prosecuted with equal probability of success. But could we lay some restriction on the tongues of those who mistake assertion for evidence; and who substitute invective for argument, the time which has hitherto been employed in censuring the conduct of others, might be devoted to purposes more advantageous, and more becoming. To attempt a correct calculation of the mischiefs which have accrued to men, in consequence of the spread of representations, whose authenticity has been unestablished, would be wholly irrelevant. How many battles have been lost by the dread of defeat;—how many pleasures have been sullied by the fear of misfortune ;—and how many beauties have been blasted by the suggestions of timidity!—But the fatal effects of giving publicity to apprehensions which arise exclusively from the distracted state of private feeling, needs no other confirmation than that of the Divine Being himself, whose signal vengeance on those who were the means of diffusing dismay and discontent throughout a whole nation, would be sufficient, unaccompanied by any additional evidence, to prove the impropriety of the practice under consideration. Numbers, xiv. &c. To fear Him, who, in comparison with every other object, is alone "worthy to be feared," constitutes at once the characteristic of piety, and the security of virtue. By transferring every feeling of devotional confidence, and sincere attachment, to the great Author of All, we secure to ourselves, in danger—the primest defence; in trial —the sweetest consolation; through life—the most constant friend; and in death—the most indubitable assurances of permanent happiness.
On Penal haws.
Mr. Editor, Sir,—The great number of Capital Punishments which have taken place in this country, and especially of late, augurs either a great increase of enormous crimes and desperate depravity, or that the penalties of our Penal Code are not proportioned to the offences which men are daily liable to commit. To which of these causes this increasing and dreadful calamity may be attributed, is, to my present purpose, ini
No. 84,—Vol. Ill,
material: my only object being to excite the attention of those, who are not only able to trace the evil to its source, but also to apply such remedy as the nature of the case may require. To this end it was my intention to have troubled you with a few observations of my own, but perusing, the other day, that celebrated little work of Dr. Goldsmith's, entitled, "The Vicar of Wakefield," I there found some remarks so appropriate to the present subject, and so superior to any I could offer, that I resolved to request the favour of an increased circulation thereof, through the medium of your valuable miscellany.
Few of your readers will be unacquainted with the various vicissitudes of fortune, which at last left the worthy vicar no other home than that of a gaol. During his short confinement in this abode of wickedness and misery, he effected much good; for by religious admonitions and friendly counsel, (which were at first ridiculed and rejected) he brought some to a state of penitence, and all to a respectful attention. Upon contemplating the effects of his ministry and advice, he could not refrain from regarding himself as a legislator, who had brought men from their native ferocity into friendship and obedience.
"And (he proceeds) it were highly to be wished, that legislative power would thus direct the law rather to reformation than severity. That it would seem convinced that the work of eradicating crimes, is not by making punishments familiar, but formidable. Then, instead of our present prisons, which find or make men guilty, which inclose wretches for the commission of one crime, and return them, if returned alive, fitted for the perpetration of thousands; it were to be wished we had, as in other parts of Europe, places of penitence and solitude, where the accused might be attended by such as could give them repentance if guilty, or new motives of virtue if innocent. And this, but not the increasing punishment, is the way to mend a state; nor can I avoid even questioning the validity of that right which social combinations have assumed, of capitally punishing offences of a slight nature.
"In cases of murder, their right is obvious, as it is the duty of us all, from the law of self-defence, to cut off