Happy for us is it that we live in an age when Paganism, with all its accompanying horrors, has given place to the mild doctrines of Christianity—when this land, so beautified by the hand of Nature, is freed from those barbarous wars, those soul-sickening feasts of human flesh, which once polluted it! That man can actually devour his fellow-creatures is almost incredible—indeed, some persons of philosophical minds have doubted the truth of anthropophagy; yet, shocking as it is to the imagination, it has been too fully proved to be denied; indeed, some of the Caribs, when, in later years, they have been asked about this revolting practice, have unhesitatingly answered in the affirmative, and even gone so far as to say that Frenchmen eat better than Englishmen, and Englishmen better than natives.[101] Although, within these last years, so much has been effected by the laudable zeal of Christian missionaries, yet, even now, there are “dark corners of the earth” where human flesh is not only eaten from feelings of revenge, but partook of as a luxury.[102] I read in a periodical, some time ago, a circumstance which may be termed a romance of real life. I pretend not to give it in its original words, but the tenour of the case is as follows: A gentleman was once travelling through the interior of Grenada, or Trinidad, I am not certain which, and after riding for some time through rocky defiles and umbrageous woods, he at length came to an open plain, on which was erected about half a dozen Carib huts. Riding up to the door of the principal one, an old man was seen reclining upon a rustic seat, who at the approach of the stranger arose, and, with much native politeness, invited him to alight, and spend the day at his hut. The gentleman, being one who was travelling in pursuit of knowledge as well as amusement, was well pleased to have the opportunity of becoming a little acquainted with the domestic manners of this ancient people. After walking about for some time, and making sketches of the various beautiful scenes which surrounded the hut, his attention was arrested by the plaintive cry of a female. Having a good supply of the “milk of human kindness” within his breast, and a heart open to the distresses of his species, the traveller determined to go in quest of the afflicted fair. Directing his steps by the sound of the voice, which appeared to issue from a magnificent grove of trees near the spot, he soon came in sight of the object of his commiseration, whom he found to be, not a fair, but a dark beauty, of sixteen or seventeen years of age. Her long black hair floated down her naked shoulders; the tears were rolling over her smooth brown cheeks; while her languishing dark eyes were turned with mournful looks upon the face of a man, who, with knitted brow, was employed in fastening her slender wrists to one of the trees. Supposing she had committed some fault for which she was about to receive corporal punishment, the