The journal affords us repeated evidences of a phenomenon, which recent occurrences in India have at this moment deeply impressed on the heart of England,--one with which both divines and legislators ought to have been acquainted (for it is not obscurely referred to in the word of God), but which a foolish and spurious benevolence has led many to deny--namely, that the most Satanic ferocity frequently lurks under gentle manners, and is even to be found in connexion with the warmest natural affection. Nothing, for instance, can be more affecting than the meeting of Tooi and his sister, after the absence of the former in England. Tooi himself anticipated _a scene_, and half ashamed, when he saw his sister at a distance, tried to avoid the interview in public, and requested Mr. Marsden to order off the canoe in which they were approaching. But her love could not be restrained; in an instant she sprang into the boat, fell on her knees, and clung to Tooi. He saluted her in return; when she gave vent to her feelings in tears and loud lamentations, which she continued for about an hour. "Tooi conducted himself with great propriety, suppressing all his wild feelings, and at the same time treating his sister with all the soft and tender feelings of nature. I could not but view his conduct with admiration." When Tooi was in England, he had been taught to read and write, and instructed in the doctrines of Christianity; and he and his companion Teterree were general favourites, from their gentle manners and quick intelligence. They were one day taken to St. Paul's by Mr. Nicholas, who naturally supposed they would be lost in astonishment at the grandeur of the building, but they expressed neither surprise nor pleasure; on which that gentleman makes this just remark; "It is only things of common occurrence, I suspect, that strike the mind of a savage. The faculties must be cultivated to fit them for the enjoyment of the beautiful or the sublime." One thing, however, did strike them, and caused no small excitement. In walking up Fleet-street, they suddenly stopped before a hair-dresser's shop, in the window of which were some female busts. They screamed out "Wyenee! Wyenee!" (Women! Women!) taking them for dried heads of the human subject. "I took some pains," adds their kind conductor, "to beat this notion out of them, lest they should tell their countrymen on their return that Europeans preserved human heads as well as New Zealanders."