 it. A natural desire to make himself of
consequence in the eyes of the strangers, prompts him to lay claim to a much
greater knowledge of such matters than he actually possesses. In reply to
incessant queries, he communicates not only all he knows but a good deal more,
and if there be any information deficient still he is at no loss to supply it.
The avidity with which his anecdotes are noted down tickles his vanity, and his
powers of invention increase with the credulity of his auditors. He knows just
the sort of information wanted, and furnishes it to any extent.
    This is not a supposed case; I have met with several individuals like the
one described, and I have been present at two or three of their interviews with
strangers.
    Now, when the scientific voyager arrives at home with his collection of
wonders, he attempts, perhaps, to give a description of some of the strange
people he has been visiting. Instead of representing them as a community of
lusty savages, who are leading a merry, idle, innocent life, he enters into a
very circumstantial and learned narrative of certain unaccountable superstitions
and practices, about which he knows as little as the islanders do themselves.
Having had little time, and scarcely any opportunity, to become acquainted with
the customs he pretends to describe, he writes them down one after another in an
off-hand, haphazard style; and were the book thus produced to be translated into
the tongue of the people of whom it purports to give the history, it would
appear quite as wonderful to them as it does to the American public, and much
more improbable.
    For my own part, I am free to confess my almost entire inability to gratify
any curiosity that may be felt with regard to the theology of the valley. I
doubt whether the inhabitants themselves could do so. They are either too lazy
or too sensible to worry themselves about abstract points of religious belief.
While I was among them, they never held any synods or councils to settle the
principles of their faith by agitating them. An unbounded liberty of conscience
seemed to prevail. Those who pleased to do so were allowed to repose implicit
faith in an ill-favoured god, with a large bottle-nose, and fat shapeless arms
crossed upon his breast; whilst others worshipped an image which, having no
likeness either in heaven or on earth, could hardly be called an idol. As the
islanders always maintained a discreet reserve with regard to my own peculiar
views on religion, I thought it would be excessively ill-bred in me to pry into
theirs.
    But,
