During the early times of French intercourse with Madagascar, in the reign of Henry IV, it was known as the île Dauphiné; this name was never accepted by other nations. There is, however, every reason for believing that the name Madagascar is not a native name, but one given to the island by foreigners. ‘Nòsindàmbo’ (the isle of wild hogs) was a name sometimes given to Madagascar; but when the Malagasy themselves spoke of the whole island, they usually called it _Izao rehètra izao_, or _Izao tontòlo izao_ (the universe). The Malagasy, like many other islanders, probably thought that their island home, if not the whole universe, was certainly the most important part of it, and that the Arabs and other foreigners came from some insignificant spots across the sea. Another name used by the Malagasy for their island is _Ny anìvon’ny rìaka_ (what is in the midst of the floods), a name that might be fairly applied to most islands. This name, it is said, was engraved on the huge solid silver coffin of Radàma I, the King of Madagascar, or rather King of the Hovas. On it he was called _Tòmpon’ny anìvon’ny rìaka_ (Lord of what is in the midst of the floods). As might be expected, the accounts given of Madagascar by early voyagers and writers are full of glowing and extravagant language as to the fertility and natural wealth of the island. Although these are certainly very great, they have been much exaggerated. The earliest known English book on Madagascar was written by Walter Hammond, surgeon, and published in 1640. The same author published another book in 1643, dedicated to the Hon. John Bond, Governor and Captain-General of the island of Madagascar; but who this Hon. John Bond was, or what right he had to that title, no one seems to know. In the latter part of the seventeenth century a book on Madagascar was published by a Richard Boothby, merchant in London. From the preface of his book we learn that two years before its publication there had been a project to found an English colony, or plantation, as it was called in those days, in Madagascar. Doubtless there were many who mourned over the failure of this project, just as there are many, and the writer among them, who regret that the British flag does not wave over Madagascar to-day. Such a state of matters, they think, would be better for the world at large, and for Madagascar in particular. In their opinion the British flag, like the American, represents justice, mercy, and equal rights to all men of whatever clime or colour. This cannot be said to the same extent for all symbols of dominion. British and American statesmen seem still to have a belief--even although at times it may suffer partial eclipse--that ‘Righteousness exalteth a nation; whereas sin is a reproach to any people.’ Nations, civilized or uncivilized, cannot permanently be governed by falsehood and chicanery.