rude nations, it was not so even to the
cultivated Greeks, and even in Europe the growth
of mind has only lately brought us to an
understanding and still it is but a faint impression
of the dignity and value of a human
being. It is a great truth, even now, but
faintly dawning on the most enlightened
nations of the earth. Our gutters show that
England is a long way from the proper
comprehension of it. We must not, therefore,
quarrel with the Africans for treading in the
path that our forefathers trod. The spirit
of trade is among them. There is less evidence
of trading spirit in the multitude of boats
floating with cargoes on the Rhine, than on
the Niger. That was remarked by an
intellectual man who had sailed up both rivers.
There are more slaves than oil-barrels,
because there is more demand for slaves, and it
has been throughout the policy of slave-traders
to extinguish and suppress all other traffic.

A striking example of this fact occurs in
the case of the Shea butter-tree. Shea butter
is obtained from a plant, not unlike the laurel,
which grows luxuriantly in many parts of the
interior. It occurs in so great abundance,
that large quantities can be obtained, and
were obtained by the natives, when the slave-
traders on the coast became alarmed lest the
chief should discover that this butter might
be made an article of commerce, and nothing
must distract their attention from the slave-
hunting business. They, therefore, laboured
with success, and obtained an edict from the
King of Dahomey, for the destruction of Shea
butter-trees in his dominions. War is waged
against them—they are burned down as fast
as they spring up, and still they spring tip
again year after year—an eternal, active
protest against man, who wilfully destroys a gift
of his Creator, lest the light of its blessing
should be shed upon the dark path he has
resolutely chosen.

We cannot afford time to stop at Eboe. In
passing we may note one or two superstitions.
The Eboe woman who gives birth to twins is
regarded as an especial object of Fetiche wrath,
and becomes for the rest of her life an
outcast. To hold up two fingers, or to call her
Abo-wadakri (mother of twins) is the greatest
affront that can be offered to an Eboe woman.
Another prejudice, equally curious, is that
which causes them to sacrifice all children
who cut their first tooth in the upper jaw.
This they believe to be premonitory of a
savage disposition. Our Phantom Ship floats
on to Iddah, the next capital, between which
place and the sea, Eboe is not much more
than half way.

We examine the town and its well thronged
markets, see abundant evidence of a spirit of
trade, and incipient civilisation. Country
cloth is more expensive than the cloth of
Manchester, on account of the rude and slow
process of native manufacture; but cloth is
woven, and moreover, very beautifully dyed.
The dyes, however, are not fined. Hides are
tanned into leather for various uses—there
are steel implements, bits for the horses, and
well tempered weapons. They smelt ore in a
furnace, dice-box shaped, and aided by bellows
of peculiar construction, not unlike the method
of an air pump, only that of course they are
to pump air in, instead of out. The iron
afterwards heated on charcoal is worked into
material of exceedingly good quality, and rude
inscriptions on the weapons are sometimes
attempted. The money of the country is
preferred as a medium of exchange to any species
of barter, the money of course being here, as
in all Negroland, cowries. Two thousand
cowries are about worth a shilling. They
are kept on strings in rows of more or less
than a hundred, the number on a string being
proportioned in each district to the value of
the cowry, so that the value of a string is in
all parts pretty much the same. The cowry
itself increases gradually in its worth as we
pass inland. As small change to represent
fractional payments of amounts less than a
cowry, earth-nuts are used. Leaving the
market and the market-keeper—a deformed
man in most places—who preserves order
therein with a huge whip, we pay a visit to
the Attah.

That, however, is an affair by no means
simple. The potentate of Africa has forms
and ceremonies, no less than the potentate of
Europe. We will skip the preliminary forms,
and get into his waiting-room, or hut, or
court. Here we learn what it is to dance
attendance on the great. The officers, in
1841, after long patience, received a message
from his highness, that "he wished God to
bless them, but it rained to-day, and, as rain
never falls on the King, he could not receive
them." Word was sent back that Englishmen
could not be trifled with. Accordingly, with
noise and drumming, and the twenty-washer-
woman-power of chatter which characterises
negro populations, presently his Majesty
revealed himself on the withdrawal of a curtain.
Too magnificent to speak, he has an officer,
his "Mouth," to say aloud what the Attah
whispers in his ear, and while the Attah
whispers, all the people make a noise, to
prevent any but the "mouth" from hearing him.
The "mouth" told our countrymen that the
Attah had come after the message, believing
that they were able to stop the rain, but he
was surprised to find it rained as much as
ever. However, he drank water with them,
the African ceremonial of friendship, and ate
goora nut with them, the African civility—
their substitute for our old formal cake and
wine. He grumbled at the presents, through
his "mouth," and magnified his own greatness,
of which they were unworthy. When he
coughed, ate, or drank, or when he laughed,
his face was veiled with the fans carried by
attendants: nobody must see the Attah yielding
to the wants and impulses of ordinary
men. On the whole, this Attah behaved very
well, and is a well-beloved chief, unlike his