fine of a slave.

And now briefly to resume the character of the Mpongwe, a nervous
and excitable race of negroes. The men are deficient in courage,
as the women are in chastity, and neither sex has a tincture of
what we call morality. To commercial shrewdness and eagerness
they add exceptional greed of gain and rascality; foreign rum and
tobacco, dress and ornaments, arms and ammunition have been
necessaries to them; they will have them, and, unless they can
supply themselves by licit, they naturally fly to illicit means.
Yet, despite threats of poison and charges of witchcraft, they
have arrived at an inkling of the dogma that "honesty is the best
policy:" the East African has never dreamed it in the moments of
his wildest imagination. Pre-eminent liars, they are, curious to
say, often deceived by the falsehoods of others, and they fairly
illustrate the somewhat paradoxical proverb:

"He who hates truth shall be the dupe of lies."

Unblushing mendicants, cunning and calculating, their obstinacy
is remarkable; yet, as we often find the African, they are at the
same time irresolute in the extreme. Their virtues are vivacity,
mental activity, acute observation, sociability, politeness, and
hospitality: the fact that a white man can wander single-handed
through the country shows a kindly nature. The brightest spot in
their character is an abnormal development of adhesiveness,
popularly called affection; it is somewhat tempered by capricious
ruffianism, as in children; yet it entitles them to the gratitude
of travellers.