does over the Arctic regions. In those regions the sky is frequently green, caused by the blending of the yellow colour of the atmosphere, and the blue of the waters. Here the sky is either chrystalline or yellow. In the higher latitudes, in consequence of the cold, the atmosphere becomes so condensed, as to refract its rays in a manner to exhibit phenomena more beautiful than the painter can depict. Sometimes are exhibited circles of various colours; at other times semicircles; now oblong rings, like that of Saturn; and occasionally it hangs over the vast abyss, as if impregnating it with forms and colours like its own. Among deserts the moon rises and sets in one unvaried scene of splendour. Less vivid than the sun, it appears more benignant: and as the Thessalian musicians are fabled to have had the power of drawing it from heaven, indicating that there are in regions within its influence far "more beautiful things than these," it awakes a rich music, as it were, of thought; and we seem ready to hail it as a paradise, floating in the blue expanse, for the reception of elegant and injured spirits. XII. Nature is, for the most part, just; if not in her gifts, at least in her compensations. In Spitzbergen there are no trees or shrubs; but there are wild lettuces, ground ivy, hellebore, saxifrage, mountain heaths, heart's-ease, strawberries, and scurvy grass: an antiscorbutic so excellent, that seamen call it "the gift of God." Here, too, are gold ore, and alabaster. The Phillipine Islands are subject to earthquakes, and to a vast number, not only of poisonous plants, but poisonous animals. But it is blest with an almost unequalled soil; a perpetual verdure adorns even the mountains; and various descriptions of trees put forth buds, blossoms, and fruit, through almost all the year. It has an immense number of buffaloes, deer, and wild goats; and is capable of being made the centre-point of commerce between Japan, China, and the Spice Islands. Part of Peru, and the whole of Egypt, are seldom visited by rains; but they are compensated by dews. Sumatra is in continual alarm from tigers, wild elephants, and rhinoceroses; but it has many of the choicest indulgences of Nature. The Azores are exposed to earthquakes and inundations; but they enjoy a delicious climate; and no venomous animal can live in any of their islands. Melinda is subject to violent storms; but it is one of the most fertile countries of the Indian continent; and though the province of Hami, in China, is situated in the centre of deserts; yet it has, to balance that inconvenience, fossils, minerals, agates, gold, and diamonds. The country is a paradise; and produces good sheep, fine horses, and excellent soldiers. Thus we find, that most countries have compensations for particular evils. But amid deserts, Nature seems to have loathed her materials, and to have quitted them in disgust and disdain. What a contrast is there in the feelings which animate the heart of a sailor, after a long voyage, which toil and difficulty, increased by protracted hope and incessant disappointment, has rendered almost insupportable, when, from the topmast of his ship, he un expectedly sees, and calls out, "land'!" And as the hills rise higher and higher out of the ocean, and the soft aerial tints fade, and wood, and rock, and hill, and valley, become more and more conspicuous; what emotions can be so vivid, so energetic, or transporting? Such were the feelings of those, who first discovered the islands of Tinian, Mindanao2, and Protection3; and of that most lovely of all those beautiful islands, that stud the bosom of the Pacific, Juan Fernandez. From a distance, this island, which is only fifteen miles long and six broad, has a wild and inhospitable appearance: but, on the approach, its rugged aspect softens; its hills assume the colour of vermillion; and its vallies exhibit some of the most delightful pictures, it is possible to behold! "Scenes of such elegance and dignity," as the author of Commodore Anson's voyage observes, "that would with difficulty be rivalled in any other part of the globe." For there Nature reposes in awful silence; and appears absorbed in the contemplation of her own beauty. Has heaven reserved, in pity to the poor, 1 Humilemque videmus Italiam. Italiam! Primus conclamat Achates; Italiam læto socii clamore salutant. En. iii. v. 522. 1 For an account of this island, see Forest's Voyage to New Guinea. 2 Vide Vancouver's Voy., vol. iii. XIII. Oh! that this enchanting island were still uninhabited and free! Thither would we go, my Lelius, and, realizing on its fruitful soil the glories of a golden age, echo should no where whisper our hiding place.' In this favoured spot, the simple productions of unassisted Nature are said to excel all the fictitious descriptions of the most animated imagination'. It were a seat, where Gods might dwell Par. Lost, b. vii. p. 328. Thus, you observe, Nature acts upon her usual plan of beneficence; even though none are present to see and to admire. The birds sing with as soft a note; the bee murmurs and distils as sweet a honey; fruits blossom and present their loaded treasures; while the waterfall and the rivulet elicit sounds as soothing, as animating, and as delightful. A land, worthy the admirers of WILLIAM PENN! I have mixed much with those men, whom the world contemptuously denominates Quakers: and though I have seen enough to convince me, they are men; never can I cease to admire their hospitality to each other; the probity of their dealings; the cheerfulness of their manners, disguised, as it were, by plain dress, and gravity of countenance; their detestation of war; their charity and their sobriety; the peace of their words, and the peace of their conduct; their industry, and perseverance; their faith in the goodness of God, his justice, and his mercy. 1 Vide Anson's Voy., p. 119, 5th edit. Forsaking all, that would remind us of this vast scene of warfare, public and private, we should there learn how little necessary to our happiness are the artificial wants of a society, polished: chiefly in its vices. The community of our families would recompense us for the experience, which the world has severely taught to us: knowing no method of cementing our friendship, superior to that of deserving each other's esteem; instilling into the minds of our children the firmest regard for one another, and a strict veneration for justice, who would not wish to appertain to a republic, which converted life into a secret journey of innocence; gliding insensibly away? In the hour of sorrow, who would not meditate on our happiness with an envy, tempered into a desire of emulation? In the moment of oppression, who would not fly to us for shelter? And, in the height of his enthusiasm, what poet would disdain to hold us forth, as an example, not unworthy the imitation of mankind? "Oh! Constance!" exclaimed Harmodius, one evening, as we were indulging our imaginations on this delightful subject, "Oh! Constance! thou, whom my heart loveth above all the treasures of the world, with what delight could I, even at this advanced season of life, now that my blood is chilled, my eyes fading, and my heart lacerated with cruel wounds, with what delight could I contemplate, in the bosom of the Pacific, a constellation of free, virtuous, happy, indegendent spirits!" But in vain do we look, in all the wide continents of the globe, for a society, in any way approaching to VOL. III. G |