at
Youri. He was assured that they were afraid to tell the true reasons
for leaving their own country. They withstood his invectives with
tolerable composure, and the disgraceful old fellow left them in a
pet, about half an hour after his arrival.

John Lander, we find, on referring to this part of their journey
says, "It is really a discouraging reflection, that, notwithstanding
the sacrifices we have made of all private feeling and personal
comfort, for the purpose of conciliating the good opinion of the
people here; the constant fatigue and inconvenience to which we have
been subjected; the little arts we have practised; the forced
laughter; the unnatural grin: the never-ending shaking of hands, &c.
&c., besides the dismal noises and unsavoury smells to which our
organs have been exposed, still, after all, some scoundrels are to be
found hardened against us by hatred and prejudice, and so ungrateful
for all our gifts and attentions, as to take a delight in poisoning
the minds of the people against us, by publicly asserting that we are
English spies, and make use of other inventions equally false and
malicious. Pitiable, indeed, must be the lot of that man, who is
obliged to drag on a year of existence in so miserable a place as
this. Nevertheless we are in health and spirits, and perhaps feel a
secret pride in being able to subdue our rising dissatisfaction, and
in overcoming difficulties, which at a first glance seemed to be
insurmountable. By the blessing of Heaven, we shall proceed
prosperously in our undertaking; for in the divine goodness do we
alone repose all our confidence and hopes of success. We may say that
pleasure and enjoyment have accompanied us hither. The clearness of
the sky is pleasant, and its brilliancy, the softness of the moon,
the twinkling brightness of the stars, and the silence of night, the
warbling and the flight of birds, the hum of insects, and the varied
and luxuriant aspect of beautiful nature, are all charming to us; and
what on earth can be more soothing and delightful than the thoughts
of home and kindred, and anticipations of a holier and more glorious
existence; these are true pleasures, of which the barbarians cannot
deprive us."

So writes John Lander, in the enthusiasm of his imagination; but
unfortunately the reality did not come up to the picture which his
fancy had drawn; for although the softness of the moon, and the
silence of night, and the brightness of the stars, m