sky, that men
should make diaries, and omit them in land travel, as if chance were
fitter to be registered than observation." Now I have made my diary,
both at sea and on shore, and copy from it:

_At Sea, Sunday, April 11th, 1852._--Have now run down to the southward
of the Island of Madagascar, and are in the same longitude, having
passed the Isle of France, or the "Mauritius," and Bourbon safely.
Hurricanes prevail off these islands, but we have only had one small
blow. Last Sunday caught a shark, about seven feet and a half long.
Some of the men ate part of him.

Beautiful "Isle of France," degraded into Mauritius by the Dutch in
honor of their Stadtholder Maurice, but made celebrated by the pen of
Bernardin St. Pierre, as the scene of the life, loves and "fate of Paul
and Virginia, and consecrated by their tomb!" Creative power of genius,
thus to constitute an insignificant island, far, far away amongst the
distant waves of the Indian Ocean, a shrine to which pilgrims shall
resort in honor of true and young and ill-starred love!

Bourbon, too, the Island of Reunion--happy nomenclature--has also
pleasant associations connected with its name.

Madagascar, however, from its importance, is worthy of a passing notice.
It is one of the largest islands known. It covers, in the Indian Ocean,
the spaces between latitudes 12 deg. and 25 deg. degrees south, and the
longitudes 43 deg. and 51 deg. east of London; at a close calculation, has been
found to fill up a superficies of over two hundred thousand square
miles;--equal in extent to the Pyrenean peninsula, composed of Spain and
Portugal. It has been but little explored; but treaties have been made
with its reigning powers by both Great Britain and the United States.

_Monday, April 19th._--At sea, in latitude 35 deg. 13', about one degree
south of the Cape. Have been prevented from making entries in diary by
rough weather, and heartily joined the schoolmaster in his wish, that
"if Britannia _ruled_ the waves, she would bring them more parallel to
the '_Line_!'"

_Sunday, April 25th, 1852._--Are now off the Cape of Good Hope, called
by its discoverer, Diaz, Cabo Tormentoso, or the Tormenting Cape, from
the storms he encountered in its latitude. And well was it named, too,
in our case; for here we are, with a wind right in our teeth, trying to
beat up to Table Bay, and chasseeing to the Cape, as if to a stationary
partner.

Just sixty days from China, and have run by