sland of St. Helena he gave a long, scientific, and certainly
an interesting account. It was reported to be volcanic, by the human
savans, he said, but a minute examination and a comparison of the
geological formation, etc., had quite satisfied him that their own
ancient account, which was contained in the mineralogical works of
Leaphigh, was the true one; or, in other words, that this rock was
a fragment of the polar world that had been blown away at the great
eruption, and which had become separated from the rest of the mass at
this spot, where it had fallen and become a fixture of the ocean. Here
the Doctor produced certain specimens of rock, which he submitted to the
learned present, inviting their attention to its character, and asking,
with great mineralogical confidence, if it did not intimately resemble
a well-known stratum of a mountain, within two leagues of the very spot
they were in? This triumphant proof of the truth of his proposition was
admirably received; and the philosopher was in particular rewarded
by the smiles of all the females present; for ladies usually are well
pleased with any demonstration that saves them the trouble of comparison
and reflection.

Before quitting this branch of his subject, the Doctor observed that,
interesting as were these proofs of the accuracy of their histories, and
of the great revolutions of inanimate nature, there was another topic
connected with St. Helena, which, he felt certain, would excite a lively
emotion in the breasts of all who heard him. At the period of his visit,
the island had been selected as a prison for a great conqueror and
disturber of his fellow-creatures; and public attention was much drawn
to the spot by this circumstance, few men coming there who did not
permit all their thoughts to be absorbed by the past acts and the
present fortunes of the individual in question. As for himself, there
was, of course, no great attraction in any events connected with mere
human greatness, the little struggles and convulsions of the species
containing no particular interest for a devotee of the monikin
philosophy; but the manner in which all eyes were drawn in one
direction, afforded him a liberty of action that he had eagerly
improved, in a way that, he humbly trusted, would not be thought
altogether unworthy of their approbation. While searching for minerals
among the cliffs, his attention had been drawn to certain animals that
are called monkeys, in the langua