USE OF THE COCOA-NUT TREE.

(From the same.)

A cocoa-nut planted in the sandy shore of Ceylon, shews its first shoots above the ground after about three months, and at the end of six is fit for transplantation. No particular care is necessary to rear it; planted in a barren soil, and fanned by the bleak winds of the ocean, it seems to gain strength from neglect, and fecundity from exposure: notwithstanding these apparent disadvantages, its hardihood surmounts every obstacle, and at the end of six years it begins to bear fruit -and from that period becomes a valuable source of wealth to the possessor. While it continues young, the fruit, or interior of the nut, affords a palatable and nutritive food to the native. The watery liquid within, which we term milk, is a beverage equally pleasant and cooling, and is as agreeable to the palate as invigorating to the body. The juice of the cocoa-nut when mixed with chunam serves to strengthen it, and to increase its adhesive qualities. When older, the cocoa-nut, as it is well known, is used in making curry, and without it, the Cingalese would find himself at a loss for one of the principal ingredients of this his simple, but constant and only food. The nut grown older still, when pressed, yields that oil, which affords almost the only sort of li,ht used in Ceylon; and the nut itself, after the juice is pressed out, is converted into flour, and forms the

chief food of the poultry and other domestic animals.

When the tree has grown to a considerable height, one of the sprouts, which forms what is called the flour, is cut off nearly at its base, leaving, however, a stump sufficiently long for a Chatty (or earthen vessel) to be attached to it, into which the juices of the tree drop and form the liquor called toddy, which is not only a pleasant beverage in its primary state, but is used in making jaggery (coarse sugar) vinegar and arrack, which, after cinnamon, is the chief article of merchandize in this island.

The inside or soft part of the tree is used for fuel, while the more solid external part is converted into rafters, and the natural net work which surrounds the base of the branches, forms sieves for straining medicinal oils, &c.-The boughs which support the fruit are used as brooms, as well as the husk of the shell, which is sometimes converted into brushes for whitewashing, &c.; the shell itself makes fuel, and the fibres of the husk which encloses it, form coir, another most valuable article of exportation.

The cabbage is fit for almost every culinary purpose, but particularly for pickling; the root is useful in medicine, and the natives occasionally mix it with betel for chewing. The branches of the tree the natives weave into hedges, and sometimes burn for fuel The cla or leaf is put to a great variety of uses; there are few natives who dwell under any other covering than that which an ola hut affords,

and

and most of our Indian readers have witnessed the celerity with which a comfortable bungalo is constructed of the cocoa-nut leaf, even in the most remote districts, on the approach of an European traveller. A cocoa-nut tree planted on the sea-shore, or on low grounds, grows to the height of

from sixty to ninety feet, and lives about one hundred and twenty or one hundred and, thirty years, while those in a hilly country live about one hundred and fifty, and do not reach so great a height; these latter do not produce fruit so soon after their being planted as the former.

MISCELLANIES.

(From the Asiatic Journal.)

WE

E have copied the following from the Bombay Courier. The deceased was, we learn, a man of the greatest opulence and influence among the native subjects of the British government at Bombay. On the 21st instant, at halfpast two o'clock in the morning, Pestonjee Bomanjee, the wellknown and very respectable Parsee merchant, paid the great debt of nature, after having just completed his fifty-eighth year.

He had, for some time, lingered under a very painful and depressing illness, which he bore with great fortitude, cheering his family and friends with the hopes of his recovery to the last. A few hours, however, before his dissolution, he became sensible of the near approach of death; and, in the full possession of his faculties, prepared his surrounding relatives for the awful separation that was about to take place, with a composure and resignation worthy of the most enlightened philosophy, exalted and refined by the most VOL. LIX.

and goodness of God.

He addressed them with great affection, and with all that strength, clearness, and precision of language, for which he was held in so much estimation through life. He told them that he felt his hour was come, and that as such was the will of the high Providence that watched over them, he submitted himself to his gracious dispensations. That death was the last tribute to be paid in this world

the universal lot of human nature -and that it must be paid sooner or later, when God determined the time, it is therefore the duty of man to submit without further struggle, and to prepare himself for an event which he cannot delay. That as he felt all hopes of recovery were vain, he gave up, as far as man can be supposed to do, the very wish to live; and conjured his friends to imitate him in that resignation which was now his greatest comfort. He desired. them to look back on the part he had so long played in life; that if they were satisfied he had conducted himself well, his memory would remain to them as a conso2 P

lation

lation after he was gone, and that instead of lamenting, they ought rather to give thanks to the Almighty for the prosperity with which he had been crowned, and for the powerful friends by whom he and they were supported both in India and in England. That the same line of conduct which first obtained those blessings, would preserve them; and that he had nothing left to wish for in this world, but a long continuance of that prosperity, which God had been pleased to shew his family, before he took him to himself.

Such was the piety, such the resignation, and such the dignified morality of this dying believer in the religion of Zoroaster. His loss has not been confined to his family and friends; it is felt by the natives of every description. His wealth and his knowledge gave him great power; and he was liberal of both without ostentation. From the earliest period of his life he was trained up in mercantile pursuits; and, of all the Asiatics we have ever known, he was eminently the best acquainted with our language, our customs, and our laws. This enabled him to adjust many disputes among the rich, which might have involved them in ruin; and to relieve many of the poor from that pride of oppression, which is so generally connected with the aristocracy of mere wealth. As the representative of successful industry, wealth indeed cannot be too much respected; but how many accomplishments and how many virtues are required, to refine it into that respectability, which can only result from a

proper use of the power which it bestows.

He was possessed of a very noble figure, an admirable address, and a copious flow of language. No man could possibly present himself in a more dignified or prepossessing manner; and the impression he made from such natural advantages, was uniformly supported by the resources of a sound judgment, and a great variety and extent of information.

From the time his fortune first enabled him to lay out money on building, even to his last illness, he continued to beautify the town and island of Bombay, with houses and gardens; and he may be truly said to have created that taste for an ornamental disposure of their wealth, by which the natives of this country have contributed so much to the comforts of the European population. The gentlemen who have inhabited his numerous and stately houses, will bear ample testimony to the liberality with which he uniformly met their wishes, and adopted their suggestions of improvement, or even alteration; and the greater part of a very considerable fortune is actually vested in this manner.

The day before his death, we understand, he made and published his last will and testament, in which he displayed his usual good sense; and left his affairs in the most orderly arrangement. He adopted his eldest grandson, Dadabhoy, as his own son, according to the custom of his nation, but left his very handsome fortune to be enjoyed equally by both his grandsons, the children of a beloved daughter, whose early loss

he

he lamented as the greatest misfortune he had met with in life. She married Nowrojee, the eldest son of Jamsetjee Bomanjee, our venerable naval architect, and head of the Wadia family-a family, which, whether we consider them as British subjects, British merchants, or British architects, have largely contributed to the prosperity and strength of the British empire in India.

ACCOUNT OF A PASSAGE IN ΑΝ OPEN BOAT ACROSS THE BAY OF BENGAL,

under a large tree, and obtained some rice and fish from the Bhurmans, on which we made a good supper. The weather continued bad through the night, and to add to our misfortune we only caught one turtle. At day-break next morning, the appearance of the weather indicated an increase of the storm, and we were then soaked to the skin by the rain. The Daphne still rode it out very easy. The Bhurmans supplied us with food. The weather becoming still worse soon after middle day, our boat began to drive, and we were obliged to order the man on board to cut the peinter, and let

the Daphne, in 1808.

(From the saine. ne.)

The Daphne brig, Edward Harman, Master, quitted the town of Rangoon on the 28th of October 1808. About sunset on Nov. the 4th, we saw Diamond Island bearing N.W. W., and at two P. M. on the following day came to an anchor in five and a half fathoms mud. I attended the Captain and six hands to the shore in search of turtle. At the north end of the island we found a small hut, inhabited by five Bhurmans (natives of Pegu) who had been sent here to collect the turtles' eggs for the king of Ava. They were very hospitable to us, and shewed every inclination to oblige us. On returning to the part of the shore on which we landed, we found from the squalliness of the weather, and the height of the surf that we could not reach our boat, then at anchor under the care of one of the men. We made a fire

and with the assistance of the Bhurmans we got her secured high and dry on the beach. We dined with the Burmans, and at dusk, leaving one man to take care of the boat, the rest retired to sleep. In the middle of the night we were all turned out, as the tide had risen so high, that our boat had flooded, and was driven among the rocks. It was an awful and tremendous night; the gale was furious, accompanied by heavy rain, with a foaming sea all round, and our poor boat was seen on the rocks beating to pieces; there was no time to think: every thing was now at stake. We reached the rocks as speedily as possible, and with a great deal of trouble got her off, but, alas! almost too late, she was nearly beaten to pieces. We remained with her until high water, when we made her fast, went back to the house and slept till day-light. Our first thoughts now were to repair our boat in the best manner possible; and this we effected by pulling a nail out 2P 2

of