me, in coming, notwithstanding the very advanced period of your lives, from so great a distance as you have done, to take leave of me and my family, and to present to me, in your own name, and in that of all the priests of your order, and all the Budhists within your jurisdiction, an address that cannot be otherwise than gratifying to my feelings.

"The number of the priests of Budhoo, and the influence which they exercise over the minds of their followers, from being the ministers of their religion and instructors of their youth, have, for many years, made their religion, their books, their laws, and their institutions, a subject of my serious inquiry. In arranging the Code of Laws which, in obedience to His Majesty's commands, I have compiled for the use of the native inhabitants of Ceylon, it became my duty to compare such of the codes as are the most approved in Europe and Asia, with such of the usages and customs as are the best authenticated on this island; and to adopt such parts only of those codes as are clearly applicable to the state of the country, and as may, therefore, be expected to attain the ends of justice, without militating against the habits and prejudices of the people.

"In performing this duty, I have had frequent communications with you, and with the other learned men of your order, and it is with pleasure I take the present opportunity to return you and them my public thanks for the alacrity with which you have at all times afforded me the information required, and for the unlimited freedom with which you have permitted me to consult the books in your temples, to which I have had occasion to refer; the translations into English which you have enabled me to procure of the three most celebrated histories of your country and your religion, the Mahawanscie, Ragawalle, and the Rajaratnakarre, and the numerous extracts which you have made for me from all your other Sanscrit, Palee, and Cingalese books, together with the different works I have since obtained from the Bramins of Jaffna, and those of the southern peninsula of India, form a most valuable collection of materials for any person who may have the desire and the leisure to write a general history of your country, and to explain, at length, the origin and peculiarities of the several casts, customs, and usages which prevail amongst you, and which are so intimately connected with your prosperity and comfort, as to render an accurate knowledge of them not only desirable as a matter of literary curiosity, but absolutely

necessary as a matter of duty to every one who may be intrusted with the administration of justice among you, or with the superintendence of the government of your country.

"The rules which the intended code contains, are so short and so clear, that the inhabitants will have little or no difficulty, either in understanding or applying them. I have, as you know, spared neither pains nor expense for the last sixteen years of my life, in acquiring the most intimate knowledge of the wants and interests of every class of people in Ceylon; it was solely with a view of ascertaining, in a way more satisfactory than I otherwise could have done, the degree of caution and im. partiality with which the natives of the island, if admitted to the right of sitting upon juries, would discharge the duties of jurymen, in cases in which their own countrymen are concerned, that I advised the colonial government, in 1806, to refer a certain description of cases for trial, to that committee of priests at Matura, of which you were the principal members. The very judicious manner in which that committee investigated those cases, and the soundness of the principles on which the members of it relied in framing their decisions, satisfied me not only as to the policy but as to the perfect safety of intrusting the natives of Ceylon with the right of sitting upon juries. After this experiment had been tried with success, but not before, I felt myself authorized to proceed to England, and to propose to his Majesty's Government, the unlimited introduction of trial by jury into Ceylon, and the formation of a simple code of laws for the use of its inhabitants. The care and attention with which all the worshippers of Budhoo, as well as all the natives of other religious persuasions, have discharged the duties of jurymen, shew that they not only understand the nature of that mode of trial, but also that they are fully competent to enjoy the privileges which it gives them, with credit to themselves, and with advantage to their countrymen. The experience which you have had for seven years, of the practical effects of that establishment, and the information you have derived from the supreme court, as well as from the book upon trial by jury, which I have caused to be translated into Cingalese and Tamul, have naturally impressed you with the highest respect for that simple and much admired mode of trial. My observations, aided by that of some persons who are the best qualified to form an opinion upon the subject, have suggested to my mind several improvements in the present system of ad

ministering justice amongst the natives of Ceylon; should his Majesty's Government, while I am in England, be pleased to command me to submit to them my opinion upon the subject, I shall be happy to point out for their consideration, such alterations as I am aware, from my communications with you, are desired by the inha bitants, and will be highly beneficial to the interest of the island.

"The ultimate effect which any system of laws is calculated to produce in a country depends, in a great degree, upon the state of society, and upon the systems of religion and morals which prevail in that country. As it has always been my wish to see the same effect produced in this country, as is produced invariably in England by an independent and well-administered system of justice, it has been my endeavour always to approximate, as much as circumstances would permit, the state of society and the systems of religion and morals which prevail in Ceylon, to those which prevail in England: with a view to the state of society in Ceylon, I have, since 1806, left no means untried to encourage the proprietors of domestic slaves, to adopt such a resolution as they at my suggestion unanimously adopted in July 1816; and it is a subject of sincere congratulation to all the friends of humanity in Ceylon, whether they profess the faith of Budhoo, or that of Mahomet or Brahma, that the unanimity with which that resolution was passed, was so great as to leave no doubt of its being the sense of the people on this island, that the system of domestic slavery is equally destructive to the morals of the slave, as it is to those of the master and his children. With a view to the different systems of religion and morals in Ceylon, I, twelve years ago, after much consultation upon the subject with some of the most enlightened of the Budhists, caused the summary of the evidences of Christianity which was drawn up by one of the ablest of our divines, the late Bishop of London, to be translated into Cingalese, in order that you yourselves might have a fair opportunity of comparing the evidence upon which we form our belief in Christianity, with that upon which you form your belief in Budhism; the conversations which many of you have frequently had with me upon those points, as well as upon the beneficial effects which may finally be expected from the general extension of Christianity, both upon the present and the rising generation of the people, have afforded me an ample opportunity of becoming acquainted with the liberal sentiments which you entertain,

These

when properly treated, upon all questions of religion; and I reflect with satisfaction on the ready assistance which I received from many of the most rigid of the worshippers of Budhoo in the translation to which I have alluded. The zeal with which the two priests of Dodanduwae have insisted upon accompanying me to England, under circumstances which to most men would have been discouraging, is at once a mark of the confidence which your body repose in me, and of the spirit of inquiry and of the desire of information which has arisen amongst them. young men will, no doubt, from the knowledge which they possess of your literature and religion, and the variety of their other acquirements, be of considerable use to me in translating into Cingalese the code which I am about to submit to His Majesty's Government in England, and will have the best opportunity, that could have occurred to them, of becoming acquainted with the real effect which the principles of our religion unquestionably have had in enlightening the understanding, and improving the morals of the inhabitants of that most celebrated country.

"I have the honour to be, &c.

"ALEX. JOHNSTON."

It is scarcely possible for any one to peruse these official documents, without being convinced that the prejudices of the natives are not invincible, and that the obstacles to the diffusion of Christianity are by no means insurmountable. By a judicious management, they have been given to understand, that the laws introduced for their government, and the liberality displayed in every department, are intimately connected with the principles of the christian religion; and hence they are taught, without coercion, to estimate its worth by the effects it has already produced. If such methods were adopted by all the exalted `officers of the British government throughout continental India, and such fostering care were extended to the missionaries, as the bright example of Sir Alexander Johnston exhibits, they would speedily have less reason than at present to complain, that "all day long they have stretched forth their hands to a disobedient and gainsaying people."

REFLECTIONS ON THE DEATH OF A FRIEND.

DEATH is an object at all times painful to contemplate, even when it approaches a fellow-being to whom we are unallied by the ties of blood, and unconnected even by the slighter obligations of life. The very associations that are inseparable from its

idea; the solemn appendages of the funeral procession; the suppressed, but yet almost vocal grief of the attendant mourners; the cold and dismal appearance of the receptacle prepared for the body, surrounded on all sides by innumerable green hillocks, the sole vestiges of the departed of other times; the audible and sonorous voice of the minister, performing the last rites of religion; together with the falling soil promiscuously thrown in, producing a startling sound, as it suddenly rebounds on the coffin-lid, are gloomy and appalling to the mind; from which it gladly makes its escape to gayer occupations, and livelier realities. But how much more so, how inexpressibly heightened, how immeasurably aggravated, are these melancholy sensations, when the object of our solicitude is endeared by the closer bonds of love and affection, that have insensibly entwined themselves around the tenderest fibres of the heart, and are absolutely necessary to give a zest to the enjoyment of life. Then it is we feel a vacuity which sublunary comforts cannot replace, the complete desolateness of an existence, deprived of that solace which was wont to animate our hopes, and infuse fresh vigour into our souls, as we came into contact with the being on whom we delighted to gaze; then indeed it is, to use the language of scripture, that the heart knoweth its own bitterness."

It has been often remarked, but perhaps not so often remembered, that we know not the intrinsic value of what we possess, till we are deprived of its aid, for then only can we clearly ascertain its adaptation to our exact circumstances and present condition. When the conviction strikes the mind with its full force and dreary certainty, that we are perpetually secluded from the pleasure of their society, the advantages of unembarrassed intercourse, and their accumulated stores of experimental wisdom; then it is, that we learn more properly how to estimate the loss we have sustained, to appreciate the solid and genuine ore of their intellectual or moral qualities, which enwrapped them as in an appropriate robe, chaste with purity, and resplendent with light, that raised them at once to an eminence of dignity and of grandeur; and are conscious of the little benefit we have derived, to what we might have secured, from the precepts they delivered, the maxims they uttered, and the virtuous example they presented.

The weakness of human nature, at such a crisis, appears in its true colours, exhibiting the poverty of its resources, and the

perfect nudity of its social condition, being divested of its wonted support, the tender sympathy, the consoling influence of affectionate advice, and the radiant smile which true and unfeigned attachment, to one whom we have loved with all the enthusiasm sincere passion diffuses; when that which mitigated our pangs, solaced our cares, and calmed our perturbations, is sunk like some refulgent star below the horizon of time, to rise in the vista of eternity. The recollection that those whom we loved with the tenderest and most ardent affection, who were once the companions of our walks, the friends of our bosom, and the centre of our daily delights, are snatched away from our fond embrace, are separated by an awful boundary from the region where we dwell, and have passed "that bourne from whence no traveller ever yet returned," is calculated almost to overwhelm us with unutterable mental anguish. When we have formed a connexion with a pleasing object, in whom our affections are concentrated, during the ingenuous season of youth, they are invested with a tenderness and warmth, which flames kindled at a later period of life never equal in intensity and force; and when divided, the wound produces the most painful feeling, the most pungent sorrow, and is the severest infliction to which the heart can be exposed while in this sublunary state.

To take a retrospect of past days, that were once spent in happiness, and the hilarity of social converse, and to feel a silent presentiment in the breast, that they are gone, irretrievably gone, that none like them will ever return, so vivid and so exquisite, is productive of a species of melancholy, it must be allowed sombre in its hue, but salutary in its effect. We feel convinced, that they are the true types of all pleasure that is earthly in its origin, which invariably resembles the meteor's flash, that irradiates surrounding objects for a little while, and then retires, leaving a gloom more profound, and a darkness more intense.

Man, while here below, is exposed to innumerable evils; varied are his sorrows, and diversified his trials; and all these ills in view of an event so solemn as death, are strengthened by the pangs of remorse, arising from reflections that we have not fulfilled our utmost duty to the dear friends, who are suddenly removed from the present and inferior stage of being, to a future and a higher state of existence. There is a consolation to be derived in the thought, that we have attended them on their death

bed, with all that assiduity of kindness which affection could dictate, sympathy employ, or love suggest. There is a melancholy, yet assuasively tender satisfaction, to be derived from knowing that we offered every alleviation in our power, and that we stood by their side with eyes bedimmed with tears, and a countenance pallid with frequent midnight watchings, and that we were present in the last and greatest exigence of the human condition.

But far different are their feelings on the retrospect, to whom it has come unexpectedly, and who were unavoidably absent at a time so important, at a crisis so momentous; their regrets at such an event, and under such circumstances, will be pungent, though they may be profitless, and their sorrow will be severe, though it may be useless. In performing the last sad offices of human sympathy to a valued friend, even the most trivial are calculated to make an indelible impression on the mind, for who does not remember having been employed in wiping away with caution the cold dew-drops of expiring nature, in smoothing the bed of affliction, in dis. pensing the medicine, or offering the cordial; and having been anxious to prevent any sudden noise that might disturb their repose, or molest their slumbers; until the lamp of life feebly glimmered in its socket, and the vital spark had vacated its earthly tenement, and escaped from the thraldom of the flesh.

The death of a friend, besides forming an eventful epoch in the private history of an individual, is intended to answer many salutary purposes; to shew us the instability of human enjoyments, to arrest presumptuous folly in its career, to restrain the ardour of immoderate ambition in its pursuit, and for the great end of warning us to be habitually prepared for that awful moment which awaits us, (we know not how soon,) where we must act the same distinguished part, and other spectators will surround our couch, to watch the quivering lip, to witness the last struggle, and hear the final groan.

Sorrow at such afflictive dispensations of divine providence, the weakness of our nature compels us to feel, when the sluices of the heart are opened; and a moderate degree of anguish, the great Author of our religion does not condemn. For he who knoweth our infirmities, and who wept at the grave of Lazarus, surely would not interdict his children, at such seasons, from giving vent to their grief, and prevent them from tasting, as some have done, the luxury of delicious tears. But the difficulty con2D. SERIES, No. 16.-VOL. II.

O death! how rich are thy spoils, how numerous are thy conquests, and how wide is thy domain! no age, nor sex, nor rank, is secure from thy inroads. Thou deprivest us of the most essential supports that once imparted strength, to enable us with fortitude to bear the burden of existence, within a few revolving cycles, and it is thou that quenchest the last light which formerly guilded our prospects, and brightened our path. But still we discern, in thy dark territories, one gleam of consolation shot athwart the gloom of being; it is "the daystar of hope," which directs the bereaved to the sanctuary of religion, and penetrates even the dark valley where thy shadows obscure the meridian sun. It is true, thou art the conclusion of the first drama of human life, but thou art also the gate which opens into the trackless and boundless regions of eternity. It is in this view that thy approach has often been attended with forms of terror to serious and reflecting minds in every age, who consider themselves as accountable beings, and that, after thy awful mandate has passed, their final account is to be given.

But to those who have died in the faith of Christ, trusting in his mediation, and all-prevailing intercession, in him, who has secured for them an inheritance, even a celestial mansion, thy aspect, O death! retains no longer the tyrant's frown, but thou art changed into the benign messenger, who comest on an errand of grace and clemency, of love and mercy. They are enabled to triumph over thee, by the bright and cheering prospect of eternal felicity; by that delightful thought, and blissful certainty which good men have, of a re-union of kindred spirits and congenial natures in the heavenly fruition; when they have emerged from the ruins of the tomb, and the deeper ruins of the fall, not only uninjured, but refined and perfected; with every tear wiped from their eyes;" through Him who conquered the fierce adversary 160.-VOL. XIV.

Y

of man, and hath now suspended from his girdle the great emblems of authority, "the keys of hell and of death." Hence, through the right which their exalted Redeemer purchased by his own sacred blood, they will ultimately vanquish thee, and finally succeed in resisting thy ineffectual attacks. To such thou hast no terrors, thy sting is extracted, thy dreaded waters are unruffled, and they may with strict propriety exclaim, in the language of the enraptured apostle, "Thanks be to God who giveth us the victory, through our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ."

Leicester, Feb. 21, 1832.

THOS. ROYCE.

CREATION-NO. III. Second Series.

(Continued from p. 128.) HAVING noted, in the two preceding essays, the first part, in the order of creation, during the third day, we proceed to the second.

"And God said, Let the earth bring forth grass, the herb yielding seed, and the fruit-tree yielding fruit after his kind, whose seed is in itself, upon the earth: and it was so. And the earth brought forth grass, and herb yielding seed after his kind, and the tree yielding fruit, whose seed was in itself, after his kind and God saw that it was good. And the evening and the morning were the third day," Gen. i. 11-13. Or, as it may be rendered, Elohim pronounced, Let the earth germinate in tender grass, the herb yielding seed, and the tree of fruit yielding fruit according to their varieties, containing seed within themselves, upon the earth. And it was established. The earth germinated in tender grass, the herb yielding seed, and the tree yielding fruit according to their varieties, containing seed within themselves. And Elohim surveyed the whole; and, behold, it was beautifully perfect. The evening was, and the morning was, the third day.

In the first part of this day's labour, we were introduced to moist and dry-seas and land. A review of the stratification and consequent drainage of this sphere, so as to clear the surface of the earth from the overflowing of its waters, and the several substances of it, with the order in which they are placed in the crust of the earth, resulted from the consideration of this part. The second part is now before us; and it contains a narrative of the formation of vegetable earth or prolific mould, the parent of vegetation; and of vegetation itself, upon the most extensive scale; with

a classification of the vegetables formed, and the mode of their propagation. To each of these we must now attend.

We proceed to the consideration of "vegetable earth, or prolific mould, the parent of vegetation," in the first instance; for without the formation of this mould, vegetables could not flourish upon the earth. "Elohim pronounced, Let the earth germinate. And it was established."

The stratification of the crust of this sphere brings out to the surface, in succession, all the varieties of creation. The inclined planes of strata, each of which consists of dissimilar substances, appear upon the surface at their elevated ends, or escarpments, and also at their adjoining planes. These portions of each strata present, in succession, the contents of the strata themselves, for the use of man, and the nourishment of vegetation. And as the line of surface which each of these occupies upon its appearance is short, therefore, in passing over a few miles of any given district, we pass over several of these strata, and frequently even in one mile. Thus we pass on and pass over every substance of this sphere.

The incessant action of the atmosphere during wet and dry, cold and hot, frost and sunshine, dissevers certain portions of these strata from their exposed ends and elevated planes, and, impregnating them with the active vapours and gases of the atmosphere, dissolves them into minute particles, and thus forms them into a mould calculated to receive the seed, and, by giving out its substance, vegetate it to maturity, even to this day; because, as vegetation wastes this mould perpetually, by appropriating to plants its very substance, there exists a continual necessity for a repletion in vegetable mould during every age of time. Hence, amidst all agricultural processes, unceasing attention must be paid to pulverization and manure. But if these created agents of Elohim can and do reproduce and renovate vegetable earth or prolific mould, and impregnate it with active gases and vapours from age to age, we can conceive it to be quite a work of course with the Omnipotent, by His created agents, at once to cover the ends and planes of these strata, in the first instance, with gaseous products of their own debris, on the announcement of His will. He performed; and, as vegetables are different in their natures, and require different food, these strata would and did provide vegetable mould or food genial to every variety which He created. Thus was the foundation of vegetable food laid before the

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