the course of the day: the names were not ascertained. Our Travellers, for prudential reasons, preferred landing at smaller villages. On the Yarriba side, they found that all the natives had fled into the interior, leaving the encroaching Fellatahs in quiet possession of their towns and villages. Near an island called Gunjo, the river takes a slight bend to the southward of east, its breadth being from three to five miles, with a very rapid

current.

On the 18th, our Voyagers experienced another gale, which caused their canoe to be tossed about on the river like a cocoa'nut shell.' The rain was at the same time so heavy that it soon became half filled with water, and three of the party were constantly employed in baling to keep it afloat. They were very near being upset by an enormous crocodile; and soon after this escape, an impetuous current carried the canoe over a sand-bank, and dashed it against the roof of a submerged hut, belonging to a village which the flood had nearly washed away. The Niger, they were told, had been more than commonly full this season, and had overflowed its usual boundaries. Happily, no mischief was done to their fragile boat, and they were presently enabled to regain the stream. They soon came abreast of the three flat, table-shaped mountains' which they had seen the day before, but which then had a different appearance; and a long way to the eastward, a lofty summit rose in the shape of an immense dome. The river, in this part, winds s.E. and E.S.E. On the 19th, they passed the mouth of the Coodonia*, which falls into the Niger on the left bank. Very elevated land appeared on each side of the river, as far as could be seen, formed by a range of hills extending from N.N.E. to s.s.w. A few miles further, they arrived at the large, populous, and flourishing city of Egga,the last town in the Nouffie territory. Like Zagozhi, it is built in the midst of a morass, which is full of crocodiles, and was now half under water. The town is about four miles in length, and two in breadth; the streets very narrow and filthy. The reason assigned for building the houses so close, is, that the Fellatahs may not be able so easily to ride through the city and destroy the people! † About one half of the population are professed moslem, and one half kerdy or pagan. They are very speculative and enterprising, and numbers employ all their time in trading up and down the Niger, living entirely in their canoes, which are fitted up for this purpose with a shed for a cabin. The town is supposed to own a greater number of canoes than any single town to the northward. The soil is exceedingly

* Crossed by Lander, on his return route, in 1827.

+ Only two years before, the town had been pillaged and burned by these marauders.

fertile, so that provisions are abundant and cheap; but the inhabitants eat little animal food besides fish. Hyenas are so numerous in the neighbouring woods, and so bold and rapacious, as to have carried off nearly the whole of the sheep that were once in the town. Benin and Portuguese cloths were seen on many of the inhabitants, which, our Travellers learned, are brought up the river from Cuttumcurraffee, at the mouth of the Shary. This was the first pleasing indication of their approaching the coast; and a few miles below Egga, they had the high gratification of seeing fly over their heads, a sea-gull.

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We must very briefly trace the remainder of their adventurous voyage. On the 22d of October, they left Egga, and reached Kacunda, on the right bank. The river between these places winds s. and s.E., with a rapid current. The right bank is generally low and swampy, while a double range of verdant hills borders on the eastern bank, running towards the s.E. Shortly after leaving Kacunda, the river turns due s., between ' tolerably high hills; its course is afterwards turned to the s.E., by a range of very high hills; and lower down, changes to s.s.w. While flowing in this direction, between immensely high 'hills,' it receives the Shary from the eastward. Below this confluence, not far from Bocquâ, a huge and naked white rock, in the shape of a perfect dome, rises from the centre of the river to the height of about twenty feet. It was covered with innumerable white birds, and received from our Travellers the name of the Bird Rock. On its western side, there is a dangerous whirlpool, which had well-nigh proved the end of their voyage. It was perceived barely in time to prevent the canoe from being drawn into the vortex. Below Bocquâ, the river runs in a valley between mountains of considerable height, its course being generally south-west. The margin of the river is, in parts, thickly wooded; and for upwards of thirty miles, not a village, nor a single hut, is to be seen.

The whole of this distance, our canoe passed smoothly along the Niger, and every thing was silent and solitary; no sound could be distinguished, save our own voices, and the plashing of the paddles, with their echoes; the song of birds was not heard, nor could any animal whatever be seen; the banks seemed to be entirely deserted, and the magnificent Niger to be slumbering in its own grandeur.' Vol. III. p. 88.

Gradually, the hills on the north-western side seemed to decrease in elevation, while those on the south-eastern side, receded in an easterly direction, and the banks of the river soon changed to a swampy plain, covered with a thick jungle. A little below where the valley of the river thus opens, a branch was seen running off in a southerly direction, inclining a little to the east.

pre

This may be considered as the head of the delta. We have now reached the point at which the interest of the voyage, as one of geographical discovery, terminates, although not the interest of the personal narrative. Fresh perils, disappointments, and sufferings awaited the Travellers; some of them of a nature to put their fortitude and patience to a severer test than any they had viously sustained. And when, on fairly reaching the ocean, on board an English brig, not without imminent danger of being wrecked on the bar, their troubles seemed at an end, they were in the greatest danger of being lost in the voyage to Rio. On the 20th of March, 1831, they sailed from the Brazilian capital; and after a tedious voyage, on the 9th of June, landed at Portsmouth, ' with hearts full of gratitude' for all their signal and manifold deliverances.

Art. II. The Works of the Rev. Robert Hall, A.M. with a brief Memoir, &c. Published under the Superintendence of Olinthus Gregory, LL.D. F.R.A.S. &c. In Six Volumes. 8vo. London, 1832.

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(Continued from Page 212.)

THE political writings of Mr. Hall, comprised in the third volume of the present collection of his Works, consist of a tract entitled, "Christianity consistent with a love of Freedom," published in 1791, when the Writer was twenty-seven years of age; the Apology for the Freedom of the Press "; an Address to the Public on the Renewal of the East India Charter; an Appeal on the subject of the Frame-work Knitter's Fund, with a Reply to Objections advanced against it; an Address on West India Slavery; and Posthumous Fragments of an Essay in defence of Village Preaching and the Right of Worship, commenced in 1801, and resumed in 1811, but afterwards laid aside by the Writer. Mr. Hall's political tracts published in his lifetime, occupy little more than 300 pages of the volume. The first of these, he would never consent to have reprinted; not that he deemed the main principles vulnerable, but he regarded the tone of animadversion as severe, sarcastic, and unbecoming. It was written in answer to a political sermon by a Dissenting Minister, characterized by the same remarkable union of high orthodoxy and ultra-Toryism, which has recently manifested itself as the characteristic of a party within the pale of the Establishment. The name of the individual against whom Mr. Hall's strictures were levelled, now venerable for his age and his sanctity, is very properly cancelled in the present edition; but to suppress the tract itself, would have been an injustice to the memory of the Author, and to the public. Its tone and spirit are far different from what Mr. Hall in his later years would have approved; but

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it is most vigorously written, abounding with splendid passages, and the sound principles which it advocates, render its republication far from unseasonable. The glowing picture presented in 'the concluding paragraphs, as accurately descriptive of recent events as of those it was intended to portray, might tempt us 'almost to fancy,' Dr. Gregory remarks, that after the revolu'tion of a cycle of forty years, time had brought us back to the same state of things.'

An attention to the political aspect of the world, is not now the fruit of an idle curiosity, or the amusement of a dissipated and frivolous mind, but is awakened and kept alive by occurrences as various as they are extraordinary. There are times when the moral world seems to stand still; there are others when it seems impelled towards its goal, with an accelerated force. The present is a period more interesting, perhaps, than any which has been known, in the whole flight of time. The scenes of Providence thicken upon us so fast, and are shifted with so strange a rapidity, as if the great drama of the world were drawing to a close. Events have taken place, of late, and revolutions have been effected, which, had they been foretold a very few years ago, would have been viewed as visionary and extravagant; and their influence is yet far from being spent. Europe never presented such a spectacle before, and it is worthy of being contemplated, with the profoundest attention, by all its inhabitants. The empire of darkness and of despotism has been smitten with a stroke which has sounded through the universe. When we see whole kingdoms, after reposing for centuries on the lap of their rulers, start from their slumber, the dignity of man rising up from depression, and tyrants trembling on their thrones, who can remain entirely indifferent, or fail to turn his eye towards a theatre so august and extraordinary! These are a kind of throes and struggles of nature, to which it would be a sullenness to refuse our sympathy. Old foundations are breaking up; new edifices are rearing. Institutions which have been long held in veneration, as the most sublime refinements of human wisdom and policy, which age hath cemented and confirmed, which power hath supported, which eloquence hath conspired to embellish, and opulence to enrich, are falling fast into decay. New prospects are opening on every side, of such amazing variety and extent, as to stretch further than the eye of the most enlightened observer can reach.

Some beneficial effects appear to have taken place already, sufficient to nourish our most sanguine hope of benefits much more extenive. The mischief and folly of wars begin to be understood, and that ild and liberal system of policy adopted, which has ever indeed been object of prayer to the humane and the devout, but has hitherto ained utterly unknown in the cabinets of princes. As the mind urally yields to the impression of objects which it contemplates en, we need not wonder, if, amidst events so extraordinary, the aman character itself should appear to be altering and improving pace. The fond attachment to ancient institutions, and blind submission to opinions already received, which has ever checked the growth of improvement, and drawn on the greatest benefactors of man

kind danger or neglect, is giving way to a spirit of bold and fearless investigation. Man seems to be becoming more erect and independent. He leans more on himself, less on his fellow-creatures. He begins to feel a consciousness in a higher degree of personal dignity, and is less enamoured of artificial distinctions. There is some hope of our beholding that simplicity and energy of character which marks his natural state, blended with the humanity, the elegance, and improvement of polished society.

The events which have already taken place, and the further changes they forebode, will open to the contemplative of every character, innumerable sources of reflection. To the philosopher, they present many new and extraordinary facts, where his penetration will find ample scope in attempting to discover their cause, and to predict their effects. He will have an opportunity of viewing mankind in an interesting situation, and of tracing the progress of opinion through channels it has rarely flowed in before. The politician will feel his attention powerfully awakened, on seeing new maxims of policy introduced, new institutions established, and such a total alteration in the ideas of a great part of the world, as will oblige him to study the art of government as it were afresh. The devout mind will behold in these momentous changes the finger of God, and, discerning in them the dawn of that glorious period, in which wars will cease, and antichristian tyranny shall fall, will adore that unerring wisdom, whose secret operation never fails to conduct all human affairs to their proper issue, and impels the great actors on that troubled theatre, to fulfil, when they least intend it, the counsels of Heaven, and the predictions of its prophets.' Vol. III. pp. 57–60.

The Apology for the Freedom of the Press was first published in 1793. After having for many years remained out of print, Mr. Hall was induced, in 1821, to consent to its republication; being informed that the copyright had expired, and that he had consequently only the alternative of publishing it himself, or of permitting it to be done by others. In an Advertisement to the new edition, he assigns the following reasons for complying with the application.

'A most erroneous inference has been drawn from my suffering it to fall into neglect. It has been often insinuated, that my political principles have undergone a revolution, and that I have renounced the opinions which it was the object of this pamphlet to establish. I must beg leave, however, to assert, that, fashionable as such changes have been, and sanctioned by many conspicuous examples, I am not ambitious of the honour attached to this species of conversion, from a conviction that he who has once been the advocate of freedom and of reform, will find it much easier to change his conduct than his principles, to worship the golden image, than to believe in the divinity of the idol. A reluctance to appear as a political writer, an opinion, whether well or ill founded, that the Christian ministry is in danger of losing something of its energy and sanctity, by embarking on the