n island raised by the reef-building corals--an active
volcano--and the overwhelming effects of a violent earthquake. These
latter phenomena perhaps possess for me a peculiar interest, from their
intimate connection with the geological structure of the world. The
earthquake, however, must be to every one a most impressive event: the
earth, considered from our earliest childhood as the type of solidity,
has oscillated like a thin crust beneath our feet; and in seeing the
labored works of man in a moment overthrown, we feel the insignificance
of his boasted power.

It has been said that the love of the chase is an inherent delight in
man--a relic of an instinctive passion. If so, I am sure the pleasure of
living in the open air, with the sky for a roof and the ground for a
table, is part of the same feeling; it is the savage returning to his
wild and native habits. I always look back to our boat cruises and my
land journeys, when through unfrequented countries, with an extreme
delight, which no scenes of civilization could have created. I do not
doubt that every traveler must remember the glowing sense of happiness
which he experienced when he first breathed in a foreign clime, where
the civilized man had seldom or never trod.

There are several other sources of enjoyment in a long voyage which are
of a more reasonable nature. The map of the world ceases to be a blank;
it becomes a picture full of the most varied and animated figures. Each
part assumes its proper dimensions; continents are not looked at in the
light of islands, or islands considered as mere specks, which are in
truth larger than many kingdoms of Europe. Africa, or North and South
America, are well-sounding names, and easily pronounced; but it is not
until having sailed for weeks along small portions of their shores that
one is thoroughly convinced what vast spaces on our immense world these
names imply.

From seeing the present state, it is impossible not to look forward with
high expectations to the future progress of nearly an entire hemisphere.
The march of improvement consequent on the introduction of Christianity
throughout the South Sea probably stands by itself in the records of
history. It is the more striking when we remember that only sixty years
since, Cook, whose excellent judgment none will dispute, could foresee
no prospect of a change. Yet these changes have now been effected by the
philanthropic spirit of the British nation.

In the sa