Journal …

Charles Darwin

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Bell mountain—Miners—Great loads carried by the Apires—Coquimbo—Earthquake—Geology—Terraces—Excursion up valley—Road to Guasco—Desert country—Valley of Copiapó—Rain and earthquakes, meteorolites—Hydrophobia—Copiapó—Excursion to Cordillera—Dry valley—Cold gales of wind—Noises from a hill—Iquique, complete desert—Salt alluvium—Nitrate of soda—Lima—Unhealthy country—Ruins of Callao, overthrown by earthquake—Elevated shells on island of San Lorenzo—Plain with embedded fragments of pottery.




Coast-road to Coquimbo—Great Loads carried by the Miners—Coquimbo—Earthquake—Step-formed Terrace—Absence of recent Deposits—Contemporaneousness of the Tertiary Formations—Excursion up the Valley—Road to Guasco—Deserts—Valley of Copiapó—Rain and Earthquakes—Hydrophobia—The Despoblado—Indian Ruins—Probable Change of Climate—River-bed arched by an Earthquake—Cold Gales of Wind—Noises from a Hill—Iquique—Salt Alluvium—Nitrate of Soda—Lima—Unhealthy Country—Ruins of Callao, overthrown by an Earthquake—Recent Subsidence—Elevated Shells on San Lorenzo, their decomposition—Plain with embedded Shells and fragments of Pottery—Antiquity of the Indian Race.

April 27th.—I set out on a journey to Coquimbo, and thence through Guasco to Copiapó, where Captain FitzRoy kindly offered to pick me up in the Beagle. The distance in a straight line along the shore northward is only 420 miles; but my mode of travelling {caused me to find}/{made} it a very long journey. I bought four horses and two mules, the latter carrying the cargo/luggage on alternate days. The six animals together only cost the value of twenty-five pounds sterling, and at Copiapó I sold them again for twenty-three. We travelled in the same independent manner as before, cooking our own meals, and sleeping in the open air. As we rode towards the Vino del Mar, I took a farewell view of Valparaiso, and admired its picturesque appearance. For geological purposes I made a detour from the high road to the foot of the Bell {mountain}/{of Quillota}. We passed through {a highly auriferous}/{an alluvial} district ~/{rich in gold,} to the neighbourhood of Limache, where we slept.

The country is covered with much alluvium, and by the side of each little rivulet it has been washed for gold. This employment supports the inhabitants of numerous scattered hovels; but, like all those who gain by chance, they are unthrifty in their habits.

Washing for gold supports the inhabitants of numerous hovels, scattered along the sides of each little rivulet; but, like all those whose gains are uncertain, they are unthrifty in all their habits, and consequently poor.

28th.—In the afternoon we arrived at a cottage at the foot of the Bell mountain. The inhabitants were freeholders, which is not very usual in Chile. They supported themselves on the produce of a garden and a little field, but were very poor. Capital is {so deficient in these parts}/{here so deficient}, that the people are obliged to sell their green corn while {it is}/~ standing in the field, in order to buy necessaries for the ensuing year. Wheat in consequence was dearer in the very district of its production than at Valparaiso, where the contractors live. The next day we joined the main road to Coquimbo. At night there was a very light shower of rain: this was the first drop that had fallen since the heavy rain of September 11th and 12th, which detained me a prisoner at the Baths of Cauquenes. The interval was seven and a half months; but the rain this year in Chile was rather later than usual. The distant Andes were now covered by a thick mass of snow, and {they presented, in the distance, a very}/{were a} glorious sight.

May 2nd.—The road continued to follow the coast, at no great distance from the sea. The few trees and bushes which are common in central Chile decreased rapidly in numbers, and were replaced by a tall plant, something like a yucca in appearance. The surface of the country, on a small scale, was singularly broken and irregular; abrupt little peaks of rock rising out of small plains or basins. The indented coast and the bottom of the neighbouring sea, studded with breakers, would, if converted into dry land, present similar forms; and such a conversion without doubt has taken place in the part over which we rode.

3rd.—Quilimari to Conchalee. The country became more and more barren. In the valleys there was scarcely sufficient water for any irrigation; and the intermediate land was quite bare, not supporting even goats. In the spring, after the winter showers, a thin pasture rapidly springs up, and cattle are then driven down from the Cordillera to graze for a short time.

It is curious to observe how the seeds of the grass seem to know, as if by an acquired instinct, what quantity of rain to expect.

It is curious to observe how the seeds of the grass and other plants seem to accommodate themselves, as if by an acquired habit, to the quantity of rain which falls upon different parts of this coast.

One shower far northward at Copiapó produces as great an effect on the vegetation, as two at Guasco, and as/~ three or four in this district. At Valparaiso a winter so dry as {to injure most seriously}/{greatly to injure} the pasture, would at Guasco produce the most unusual abundance. Travelling/Proceeding northward, the quantity of rain does not appear to decrease in strict proportion to the distance/latitude. At Conchalee, which is only {halfway between Valparaiso and Coquimbo (being 67 miles north of the former)}/{67 miles north of Valparaiso}, rain is not expected till the end of May; whereas at Valparaiso some generally falls early in April: the annual quantity is likewise small in proportion to the lateness of the season at which it commences.

{May 4th}/{4th}.—Finding the coast-road devoid of interest of any kind, we turned inland towards the mining district and valley of Illapel.

The town of that name is very regular and pretty. Its flourishing condition depends on numerous mines, chiefly of copper, which occur in its immediate vicinity.


This valley, like every other in Chile, is level, broad, and very fertile: it is bordered on each side, either by cliffs of stratified shingle, or by bare rocky mountains. Above the straight line of the uppermost irrigating ditch, all is brown as on a high road; while all below is of as bright a green as verdigris, from the beds of alfarfa, a kind of clover. We proceeded to Los Hornos, another mining district, where the principal hill was drilled with holes, like a great ants'-nest. The Chilian miners are {in their habits a peculiar race of men}/{a peculiar race of men in their habits}. Living for weeks together in the most desolate spots, when they descend to the villages on feast-days, there is no excess of extravagance into which they do not run. They sometimes gain a considerable sum, and then, like sailors with prize-money, they try how soon they can contrive to squander it. They drink excessively, buy quantities of clothes, and in a few days return penniless to their miserable abodes, there to work harder than beasts of burden. This thoughtlessness, as with sailors, is evidently the result of a similar manner of life. Their daily food is found them, and they acquire no

habitual care as to the means of subsistence: moreover, at the same moment that temptation is offered, the means of enjoying it is placed in their power.

habits of carefulness: moreover, temptation and the means of yielding to it are placed in their power at the same time.

On the other hand, in Cornwall, and some other parts of England, where the system of selling part of the vein is followed, the miners, from being obliged to act {for themselves, and to judge with clearness}/{and think for themselves}, are a singularly intelligent and well-conducted set of men.

The dress of the Chilian miner is peculiar and rather picturesque. He wears a very long shirt of some dark-coloured baize, with a leathern apron; the whole being fastened round his waist by a {brightly}/{bright}-coloured sash. His trousers are very broad, and his small cap of scarlet cloth is made to fit the head closely. We met a party of these miners in full costume, carrying the body of one of their companions to be buried. They marched at a very quick trot, four men supporting the corpse. One set having run as hard as they could for about two hundred yards, were relieved by four others, who had previously dashed on ahead on horseback. Thus they proceeded, encouraging each other by wild cries: altogether the scene formed a most strange funeral.

We continued travelling northward, in a zigzag line; sometimes stopping a day to geologize. The country was so thinly inhabited, and the track so obscure, that we often had difficulty in finding our way. On the 12th I stayed at some mines. The ore in this case was not considered particularly good, but from being abundant it was supposed the mine would sell for about thirty or forty thousand dollars (that is, 6000 or 8000 pounds sterling); yet it was/{had been} bought by one of the English Associations for an ounce of gold (3l. 8s.). The ore is yellow pyrites, which, as I have already remarked, before the arrival of the English, was not supposed to contain a particle of copper. On a scale of profits nearly as great as in the above instance, piles of cinders, abounding with minute globules of metallic copper, were purchased; yet with these advantages, the mining associations, as is well known, contrived to lose immense sums of money. The folly of the greater number of the commissioners and shareholders amounted to infatuation;—a thousand pounds per annum given in some cases to entertain the ~/Chilian authorities; libraries of well-bound geological books; {bring out miners}/{miners brought out} for particular metals, as tin, which {were soon found not to exist in the country}/{are not found in Chile}; contracts to supply the miners with milk, in parts where there were/are no cows; machinery, where such/it could not possibly be used; and a hundred similar arrangements, bore witness to our absurdity, and to this day afford amusement to the natives. Yet there can be no doubt, that the same capital well employed in these mines would have yielded an immense return, a confidential man of business, a practical miner and assayer, would have been all that was required.

Captain Head has described the wonderful load which the “Apires” truly beasts of burden, carry up from the deepest mines. I confess I thought the account exaggerated: so that I was glad to take an opportunity of weighing one of the loads, which I picked out by hazard. It required considerable exertion on my part, when standing directly over it, to lift it from the ground. The load was considered under weight when found to be 197 pounds. The apire had carried this up eighty perpendicular yards,—part of the way by a steep passage, but the greater part up notched poles, placed in a zigzag line up the shaft. According to the general regulation, the apire is not allowed to halt for breath, except the mine is six hundred feet deep. The average load is considered as rather more than 200 pounds, and I have been assured that one of 300 pounds (twenty-two stone and a half) by way of a trial has been brought up from the deepest mine! At this time the apires were bringing up the usual load twelve times in the day; that is 2400 pounds from eighty yards deep; and they were employed in the intervals in breaking and picking ore.

These men, excepting from accidents, are healthy, and appear cheerful. Their bodies are not very muscular. They rarely eat meat once a week, and never oftener, and then only the hard dry charqui. Although with a knowledge that the labour was voluntary, it was nevertheless quite revolting to see the state in which they reached the mouth of the mine; their bodies bent forward, leaning with their arms on the steps, their legs bowed, their muscles quivering, the perspiration streaming from their faces over their breasts, their nostrils distended, the corners of their mouth forcibly drawn back, and the expulsion of their breath most laborious. Each time they draw their breath, they utter an articulate cry of “ay-ay” which ends in a sound rising from deep in the chest, but shrill like the note of a fife. After staggering to the pile of ore, they emptied the “carpacho:“ in two or three seconds recovering their breath, they wiped the sweat from their brows, and apparently quite fresh descended the mine again at a quick pace. This appears to me a wonderful instance of the amount of labour which habit, for it can be nothing else, will enable a man to endure.

In the evening, talking with the mayor-domo of these mines about the number of foreigners now scattered over the whole country, he told me that, though quite a young man, he remembers when {he was}/~ a boy at school at Coquimbo, a holiday being given to see the captain of an English ship, who was brought to the city to speak to the governor. He believes that nothing would have induced any boy in the school, himself included, to have gone close to the Englishman; so deeply had they been impressed with an idea of the heresy, contamination, and evil to be derived from contact with such a person. To this day they relate the atrocious actions of the bucaniers; and especially of one man, who took away the figure of the Virgin Mary, and returned the year after for that of St. Joseph, saying it was a pity the lady should not have a husband. I heard also of an old lady who, at a dinner at Coquimbo, remarked how wonderfully strange it was that she should have lived to dine in the same room with an Englishman; for she remembered as a girl, that twice, at the mere cry of “Los Ingleses” every soul, carrying what valuables they could, had taken to the mountains.

{May 14th}/{14th}.—We reached Coquimbo, where we stayed a few days. The town is remarkable for nothing but its extreme quietness. It is said to contain from 6000 to 8000 inhabitants. On the morning of the 17th it rained lightly, the first time this year, for about five hours. The farmers, who plant corn near the sea-coast where the atmosphere is more/most humid, ~/{taking advantage of this shower,} would break up the ground; with/after a second ~/{they would} put the seed in; and if a third ~/shower should fall, they would reap {in the spring a good harvest}/{a good harvest in the spring}. It was interesting to watch the effect of this trifling amount of moisture. Twelve hours afterwards the ground appeared as dry as ever; yet after an interval of ten days, all the hills were faintly tinged with green patches; the grass being sparingly scattered in hair-like fibres a full inch in length. Before this shower every part of the surface was bare as on a high road.

In the evening, Captain FitzRoy and myself were dining with Mr. Edwards, an English resident well known for his hospitality by all who have visited Coquimbo, when a sharp earthquake happened. I heard the forecoming rumble, but from the screams of the ladies, the running of the servants, and the rush of several of the gentlemen to the doorway, I could not distinguish the motion. Some of the women afterwards were crying with terror, and one gentleman said he should not be able to sleep all night, or if he did, it would only be to dream of falling houses. The father of this gentleman/person had lately lost all his property at Talcahuano, and he himself had only just escaped a falling roof at Valparaiso, in 1822. He mentioned a curious coincidence which then happened: he was playing at cards, when a German, one of the party, got up, and said he would never sit in a room in these countries with the door shut, as owing to his having done so, he had nearly lost his life at Copiapó. Accordingly he opened the door; and no sooner had he done this, than he cried out, “Here it comes again!” and the famous shock commenced. The whole party escaped. The danger in an earthquake is not from the time lost in opening a/the door, but from the chance of its becoming jammed by the movement of the walls.

It is impossible to be much surprised at the fear which natives and old residents, though some of them known to be men of great command of mind, so generally experience during earthquakes. I think, however, this excess of panic may be partly attributed to a want of habit in governing their fears/fear, {the usual restraint of shame being here absent}/{as it is not a feeling they are ashamed of}. Indeed, the natives do not like to see a person indifferent. I heard of two Englishmen who, sleeping in the open air during a smart shock, knowing that there was no danger, did not rise. The natives cried out indignantly, “Look at those heretics, they do not even get out of their beds!”

I spent two or three days in examining the step-formed terraces of shingle first described by Captain Basil Hall, in his work, so full of spirited descriptions, on the west coast of America. Mr. Lyell concluded from the account, that they must have been formed by the sea during the gradual rising of the land. Such is the case: on some of the steps which sweep round from within the valley, so as to front the coast, shells of existing species both lie on the surface, and are embedded in a soft calcareous stone. This bed of the most modern tertiary epoch passes downward into another, containing some living species associated with others now lost. Amongst the latter may be mentioned shells of an enormous perna and an oyster, and the teeth of a gigantic shark, closely allied to, or identical with the Carcharias Megalodon of ancient Europe; the bones of which, or of some cetaceous animal, are also present, in a silicified state, in great numbers. At Guasco, the phenomenon of the parallel terraces is very strikingly seen: no less than seven perfectly level, but unequally broad plains, ascending by steps, occur on one or both sides the valley. So remarkable is the contrast of the successive horizontal lines, corresponding on each side, with the irregular outline of the surrounding mountains, that it attracts the attention of even those who feel no interest regarding the causes, which have modelled the surface of the land. The origin of the terraces of Coquimbo is precisely the same, according to my view, with that of the plains of Patagonia; the only difference is that the plains are rather broader than the terraces, and that they front the Atlantic ocean instead of a valley,—which valley, however, was formerly occupied by an arm of the sea, but now by a fresh-water river. In every case it must be remembered, that the successive cliffs do not mark so many distinct elevations, but on the contrary, periods of comparative repose during the gradual and perhaps scarcely sensible rise of the land. In the valley of Guasco we have the record of seven such nights of rest, in the action of the subterranean powers.

I spent some days in examining the step-formed terraces of shingle, first noticed by Captain B. Hall, and believed by Mr. Lyell to have been formed by the sea, during the gradual rising of the land. This certainly is the true explanation, for I found numerous shells of existing species on these terraces. Five narrow, gently sloping, fringe-like terraces rise one behind the other, and where best developed are formed of shingle: they front the bay, and sweep up both sides of the valley. At Guasco, north of Coquimbo, the phenomenon is displayed on a much grander scale, so as to strike with surprise even some of the inhabitants. The terraces are there much broader, and may be called plains, in some parts there are six of them, but generally only five; they run up the valley for thirty-seven miles from the coast. These step-formed terraces or fringes closely resemble those in the valley of S. Cruz, and, except in being on a smaller scale, those great ones along the whole coast-line of Patagonia. They have undoubtedly been formed by the denuding power of the sea, during long periods of rest in the gradual elevation of the continent.

Shells of many existing species not only lie on the surface of the terraces at Coquimbo (to a height of 250 feet), but are embedded in a friable calcareous rock, which in some places is as much as between twenty and thirty feet in thickness, but is of little extent. These modern beds rest on an ancient tertiary formation containing shells, apparently all extinct. Although I examined so many hundred miles of coast on the Pacific, as well as Atlantic side of the continent, I found no regular strata containing sea-shells of recent species, excepting at this place, and at a few points northward on the road to Guasco. This fact appears to me highly remarkable; for the explanation generally given by geologists, of the absence in any district of stratified fossiliferous deposits of a given period, namely, that the surface then existed as dry land, is not here applicable; for we know from the shells strewed on the surface and embedded in loose sand or mould that the land for thousands of miles along both coasts has lately been submerged. The explanation, no doubt, must be sought in the fact, that the whole southern part of the continent has been for a long time slowly rising; and therefore that all matter deposited along shore in shallow water, must have been soon brought up and slowly exposed to the wearing action of the sea-beach; and it is only in comparatively shallow water that the greater number of marine organic beings can flourish, and in such water it is obviously impossible that strata of any great thickness can accumulate. To show the vast power of the wearing action of sea-beaches, we need only appeal to the great cliffs along the present coast of Patagonia, and to the escarpments or ancient sea-cliffs at different levels, one above another, on that same line of coast.

The old underlying tertiary formation at Coquimbo, appears to be of about the same age with several deposits on the coast of Chile (of which that of Navedad is the principal one), and with the great formation of Patagonia. Both at Navedad and in Patagonia there is evidence, that since the shells (a list of which has been seen by Professor E. Forbes) there entombed were living, there has been a subsidence of several hundred feet, as well as an ensuing elevation. It may naturally be asked, how it comes that, although no extensive fossiliferous deposits of the recent period, nor of any period intermediate between it and the ancient tertiary epoch, have been preserved on either side of the continent, yet that at this ancient tertiary epoch, sedimentary matter containing fossil remains, should have been deposited and preserved at different points in north and south lines, over a space of 1100 miles on the shores of the Pacific, and of at least 1350 miles on the shores of the Atlantic, and in an east and west line of 700 miles across the widest part of the continent? I believe the explanation is not difficult, and that it is perhaps applicable to nearly analogous facts observed in other quarters of the world. Considering the enormous power of denudation which the sea possesses, as shown by numberless facts, it is not probable that a sedimentary deposit, when being upraised, could pass through the ordeal of the beach, so as to be preserved in sufficient masses to last to a distant period, without it were originally of wide extent and of considerable thickness: now it is impossible on a moderately shallow bottom, which alone is favourable to most living creatures, that a thick and widely extended covering of sediment could be spread out, without the bottom sank down to receive the successive layers. This seems to have actually taken place at about the same period in southern Patagonia and Chile, though these places are a thousand miles apart. Hence, if prolonged movements of approximately contemporaneous subsidence are generally widely extensive, as I am strongly inclined to believe from my examination of the Coral Reefs of the great oceans—or if, confining our view to South America, the subsiding movements have been co-extensive with those of elevation, by which, within the same period of existing shells, the shores of Peru, Chile, Tierra del Fuego, Patagonia, and La Plata have been upraised—then we can see that at the same time, at far distant points, circumstances would have been favourable to the formation of fossiliferous deposits of wide extent and of considerable thickness; and such deposits, consequently, would have a good chance of resisting the wear and tear of successive beach-lines, and of lasting to a future epoch.

May 21st.—I set out in company with Don Jose Edwards to the silver-mine of Arqueros, and thence up the valley of {Elque or}/~ Coquimbo. Passing through a mountainous country, we reached by nightfall the mines belonging to Mr. Edwards. I enjoyed my night's rest here from a reason which will not be fully appreciated in England, namely, the absence of fleas! The rooms in Coquimbo swarm with them; but they will not live ~/here at the height of ~/only three or four thousand feet{, even if brought there, as is constantly occurring at these mines. It}/{: it} can scarcely be the trifling diminution of temperature, but some other cause which

is here destuctive to these troublesome insects. I spent the greater part of the ensuing day in examining the mines. The veins occur abundantly scattered over several miles of hilly country; yet it is only a few years since that they were discovered by a wood-cutter.

destroys these troublesome insects at this place.

The mines are now in a bad state, though they formerly yielded about 2000 pounds in weight of silver a year. It has been said that “a person with a copper-mine will gain; with silver he may gain; but with gold he is sure to lose.” This is not true: all the large Chilian fortunes have been made by mines of the more precious metals. A short time since an English physician returned to England from Copiapó, taking with him the profits of one share of a silver-mine, which amounted to about 24,000 pounds sterling. No doubt a copper-mine with care is a sure game, whereas the other is gambling, or rather taking a ticket in a lottery. The owners lose great quantities of rich ores; for no precautions can prevent robberies. I heard of a gentleman laying a bet with another, that one of his men should rob him before his face. The ore when brought out of the mine is broken into pieces, and the useless stone thrown on one side. A couple of the miners who were thus employed, pitched, as if by accident, two fragments away at the same moment, and then cried out for a joke “Let us see which rolls furthest.” The owner, who was standing by, bet a cigar with his friend on the race. The miner by this means watched the very point amongst the rubbish where the stone lay. In the evening he picked it up and carried it to his master, showing him a rich mass of silver-ore, and saying, “This was the stone on which you won a cigar by its rolling so far.”

May 23rd.—We {followed up the fertile valley}/{descended into the fertile valley of Coquimbo, and followed it} till we reached an Hacienda belonging to a relation of Don Jose, where we stayed the ensuing/next day. I then rode one day's journey further, to see what were declared to be some petrified shells and beans{. The former turned out to be so; the latter were}/{, which latter turned out to be} small quartz pebbles. We passed through several small villages; and the valley was beautifully cultivated, and the whole scenery very grand. We were here near the main Cordillera, and the surrounding hills were very/~ lofty. In all parts of northern Chile, fruit trees produce much more abundantly at a considerable elevation/height near the Andes than in the lower country. The figs and grapes of this part/district are famous for their excellence, and are cultivated to a great extent. This valley is, perhaps, the most productive one north of Quillota. I believe it contains, including Coquimbo, 25,000 inhabitants. The next day I returned to the Hacienda, and thence, together with Don Jose, to Coquimbo.

June 2nd.—We set out for the valley of Guasco, following the coast-road, which was considered rather less desert than the other. Our first day's ride was to a solitary house, called Yerba Buena, where there was pasture for our horses. The shower mentioned as having fallen, a fortnight ago, only reached about half-way to Guasco; we had, therefore, in the first part of our journey a most faint tinge of green, which soon faded ~/quite away. Even where brightest, it was scarcely sufficient to remind one of the fresh turf and budding flowers of the spring of other countries. While travelling through these deserts one feels like a prisoner shut up in a gloomy courtyard/court, longing/{who longs} to see something green and to smell a moist atmosphere.

June 3rd.—Yerba Buena to Carizal. During the first part of the day we crossed a mountainous rocky desert, and afterwards a long deep sandy plain, {scattered over}/{strewed} with broken {marine shells}/{sea-shells}. There was very little water, and that little saline:

hence the few streamlets were bordered on each side by white incrustations, amongst which succulent salt-loving plants grew.


The/the whole country, from the coast to the Cordillera, is {desert and uninhabited}/{an uninhabited desert}. I saw traces only of one living animal in abundance{: this was a Bulimus, the shells of which}/{, namely, the shells of a Bulimus, which} were collected together in extraordinary numbers on the driest spots. In the spring one humble little plant sends out a few leaves, and on these the snails feed. As they are seen only very early in the morning, when the ground is slightly damp with dew, the Guascos believe that they are bred from it. I have observed in other places that extremely dry and sterile districts, where the soil is calcareous, are {most favourable to an extraordinary increase of}/{extraordinarily favourable to} land-shells. At Carizal there were a few cottages, some brackish water, and a trace of cultivation: but it was with difficulty that we purchased a little corn and straw for our horses.

4th.—Carizal to Sauce. We continued to ride over desert plains, tenanted by large herds of guanaco. We crossed also the valley of Chaneral; which, although the most fertile one between Guasco and Coquimbo, is very narrow, and produces so little pasture, that we could not purchase any for our horses. At Sauce we found a very civil old gentleman, superintending/{superintendent of} a copper-smelting furnace. As an especial favour, he allowed me to purchase at a high price an armful of dirty straw, which was all the poor horses had for supper after their long day's journey. {Very few}/{Few} smelting-furnaces are now at work in any part of Chile; it is found more profitable, on account of the extreme scarcity of firewood, and {of the loss of from the clumsy Chilian method of reduction}/{from the Chilian method of reduction being so unskilful}, to ship the ore for Swansea. The next day we crossed some mountains to Freyrina, in the valley of Guasco. During each day's ride further northward, the vegetation became more ~/{and more} scanty; even the great candlestick/{chandelier-like} cactus was here replaced by a different and much smaller species. During the winter months, both in northern Chile and in Peru, a uniform stratum/bank of clouds hangs, at no great height, over the Pacific. From these/the mountains we had a very striking view of {the great}/{this} white and brilliant {aerial-}/~ field, which sent arms up the valleys, leaving islands and promontories in the same manner, as the sea {now intersects}/{does in} the Chonos archipelago {or the west coast of}/{and in} Tierra del Fuego.

We stayed two days at Freyrina. In the valley of Guasco there are four small towns. At the mouth there is the port, a spot entirely desert, and without any water in the immediate neighbourhood. Five leagues higher up stands Freyrina, a long straggling village, with decent whitewashed houses. Again, ten leagues further up Ballenar is situated, and above this Guasco Alto, a horticultural village, famous for its dried fruit. On a clear day the view up the valley is very fine; the straight opening {is terminated at a great distance by the outline of the}/{terminates in the far-distant} snowy Cordillera; on each side an infinity of crossing-lines are blended together in a beautiful haze. The foreground is singular from the number of parallel and {step-formed}/{extensive} terraces; and the included strip of green valley, with its willow-bushes, is contrasted on both hands with/by the naked hills. That the surrounding country was most barren will be readily believed, {fron the circumstance of}/{when it is known that} a shower of rain {not having}/{had not} fallen during the last thirteen months. The inhabitants heard with the greatest envy of the rain at Coquimbo; from the appearance of the atmosphere/sky they had hopes of equally good fortune, which, a fortnight afterwards, was/were realized. I was at Copiapó at the time; and there the people, with equal envy, talked of the abundant rain at Guasco. After two or three very dry years, perhaps with not more than one shower during the whole time, a rainy year generally follows; and this does more harm than even the drought. The {river swells/{rivers swell}, and cover with gravel and sand the narrow strip/strips of ground, which alone is/are fit for cultivation. The {flood also injures{/floods also injure} the irrigating ditches. Great devastation had thus been caused three years ago.

We rode on to Ballenar. As the rocky mountains on each hand were concealed by clouds, the terrace-like plains gave the valley an appearance similar to that of Santa Cruz, in Patagonia. I staid the following day in the town, which is as large as Coquimbo and well built. It has only lately sprung up, and entirely owes its prosperity to some silver-mines. Ballenar takes its name from Ballenagh, in Ireland, the birthplace of the family of O'Higgins, who, under the Spanish government, were presidents and generals in Chile.

June 8th.—We rode on to Ballenar. As the rocky mountains on each hand were concealed by clouds, the terrace-like plains gave to the valley an appearance like that of Santa Cruz in Patagonia. After spending one day at Ballenar I set out, on the 10th, for the upper part of the valley of Copiapó. We rode all day over an uninteresting country. I am tired of repeating the epithets barren and sterile. These words, however, as commonly used, are comparative; I have always applied them to the plains of Patagonia, which can boast of spiny bushes and some tufts of grass; and this is absolute fertility, as compared with northern Chile. Here again, there are not many spaces of two hundred yards square, where some little bush, cactus or lichen, may not be discovered by careful examination; and in the soil seeds lie dormant ready to spring up during the first rainy winter. In Peru real deserts occur over wide tracts of country. In the evening we arrived at a valley, in which the bed of the streamlet was damp: following it up, we came to tolerably good water. During the night, the stream, from not being evaporated and absorbed so quickly, flows a league lower down than during the day. Sticks were plentiful for firewood, so that it was a good place to bivouac for us; but for the poor animals there was not a mouthful to eat.

June 11th.—We rode without stopping for twelve hours till we reached an old smelting-furnace, where there was water and firewood; but our horses again had nothing to eat, being shut up in an old courtyard. The line of road was hilly, and the distant views interesting, from the varied colours of the bare mountains. It is/{was almost} a pity to see the sun shining constantly over so useless a country; such {days should brighten a prospect of}/{splendid weather ought to have brightened} fields and ~/pretty gardens. The next day we reached the valley of Copiapó. I was heartily glad of it; for the whole journey was a continued source of anxiety; it was most disagreeable to hear, whilst eating our own suppers, our horses gnawing the posts to which they were tied, and to have no means of relieving their hunger. To all appearance, however, the animals were quite fresh; and no one could have told that they had eaten nothing for the last fifty-five hours.

I had a letter of introduction to Mr. Bingley, who received me very kindly at the Hacienda of Potrero Seco. This estate is between twenty and thirty miles long, but it is very narrow, having generally a width of only two fields, one on each side the river. In some parts the estate is of no width, that is to say, the land cannot be irrigated, and therefore is valueless, like the surrounding rocky desert. The small quantity of cultivated land in the whole line of valley, does not however so much depend on its inequality, or its unfitness for irrigation, as on the small supply of water. The river this year was remarkably full: here, high up the valley, it reached to the horse's belly, and was about fifteen yards wide, and rapid; lower down it becomes smaller and smaller, and is generally quite lost, as happened during one period of thirty years, so that not a drop entered the sea.

I had a letter of introduction to Mr. Bingley, who received me very kindly at the Hacienda of Potrero Seco. This estate is between twenty and thirty miles long, but very narrow, being generally only two fields wide, one on each side the river. In some parts the estate is of no width, that is to say, the land cannot be irrigated, and therefore is valueless, like the surrounding rocky desert. The small quantity of cultivated land in the whole line of valley, does not so much depend on inequalities of level, and consequent unfitness for irrigation, as on the small supply of water. The river this year was remarkably full: in this part it reached as high as the horse's belly, and was about fifteen yards wide, and rapid. It gradually decreases in volume till reaching the sea. This latter circumstance, however, rarely happens; and once for a period of thirty years not a drop entered the Pacific.

The inhabitants watch a storm over the Cordillera with great interest; as one good fall of snow provides them with water for the ensuing year. This is of infinitely more consequence than rain in the lower country. {The latter}/{Rain,} as often as it occures/falls, which is about once in every two or three years, is a great advantage, because the cattle and mules can for some time afterwards find ~/{a little pasture in the mountains. But without snow in/on the Andes, desolation extends throughout the valley. It is on record that three times nearly all the inhabitants have been obliged to emigrate to the south. This year there was plenty of water, and every man irrigated his ground as much as he chose; but it has frequently been necessary to post soldiers at the sluices, to see that each estate took only its proper allowance during so many hours in the week. The valley is said to contain 12,000 souls, but its produce is sufficient only for three months in the year; the rest of the supply being drawn from Valparaiso and the south. Before the discovery of the famous silver-mines of Chanuncillo, Copiapó was in a rapid state of decay; but now it is in a very thriving condition; and the town, which was completely overthrown by an earthquake, has been rebuilt.

The valley of Copiapó, forming a mere ribbon of green in a desert, runs in a very southerly direction; so that it is of considerable length to its origin/source in the Cordillera. The valleys of Guasco and Copiapó may both be considered as {islands to the northward of Chile, separated by}/{long narrow islands, separated from the rest of Chile by} deserts ~/{of rock} instead of ~/by salt water. Beyond/{Northward of} these, there is one other very miserable valley, called Paposo, which contains about two hundred souls; and then there extends the real desert of Atacama—a barrier far worse than the most turbulent ocean. After staying a few days at Potrero Seco, I proceeded up the valley to the house of Don Benito Cruz, to whom I had a letter of introduction. I found him most hospitable; indeed it is impossible to bear too strong testimony to the kindness {which travellers receive}/{with which travellers are received} in almost every part of South America. The next day I hired some mules to take me by the ravine of Jolquera into the central Cordillera. On the second night the weather seemed to foretell a storm of snow or rain, and whilst lying in our beds we felt a trifling shock of an earthquake.

The connexion between the latter phenomena and the weather has often been a disputed point: it appears to me to be one of very great interest, and not well understood. Humboldt* has remarked, “It would be difficult for a person, who has lived a long time in New Andalusia, or in the low regions of Peru, to deny that the season, the most to be dreaded from the frequency of earthquakes, is that of the beginning of the rains, which is, however, the time of thunder-storms. The atmosphere, and the state of the surface of the globe, seem to have an influence unknown to us, on the changes produced at great depths.”

The connexion between earthquakes and the weather has been often disputed: it appears to me to be a point of great interest, which is little understood. Humboldt has remarked in one part of the Personal Narrative,* that it would be difficult for any person who had long resided in New Andalusia, or in Lower Peru, to deny that there exists some connexion between these phenomena: in another part, however he seems to think the connexion fanciful. At Guayaquil it is said that a heavy shower in the dry season is invariably followed by an earthquake.

* Personal Narrative, vol. iv., p. 11. In the fourth chapter of the second volume, p. 217, Humboldt, however, appears to think that such connexion is fanciful.

* Vol. iv. p. 11, and vol. ii. p. 217. For the remarks on Guayaquil, see Silliman's Journ., vol. xxiv. p. 384. For those on Tacna by Mr. Hamilton, see Trans. of British Association, 1840. For those on Coseguina see Mr. Caldcleugh in Phil. Trans., 1835. In the former edition I collected several references on the coincidences between sudden falls in the barometer and earthquakes; and between earthquakes and meteors.

In Northern Chile, from the extreme infrequency of rain, or even of weather foreboding rain, the probability of accidental coincidences becomes very small; yet the inhabitants are here most firmly convinced of some connexion between the state of the atmosphere and of the trembling of the ground: I was much struck by this when mentioning to some people at Copiapó that there had been a sharp shock at Coquimbo: they immediately cried out, “How fortunate! there will be plenty of pasture there this year.” To their minds an earthquake foretold rain as surely as rain foretold abundant pasture. Certainly it did so happen that on the very day of the earthquake, that shower of rain fell, which I have described as in ten days' time producing a thin sprinkling of grass.

Mr. Scrope has put forth an ingenious idea, that the period of subterranean disturbance, where the force is just on a balance with the resistance, may be determined by a sudden decrease in atmospheric pressure, which over a wide extent of country might produce a considerable effect. According to this explanation, the earthquake comes on at the given period from that state of the weather, which is generally accompanied by rain. But there is another class of phenomena, where the state of the weather evidently appears a consequence (and not the determining cause) of the earthquake.


I allude to those cases, when rain falls at a period of the year, at which it is a greater prodigy than the earthquake itself: I may instance the rain after the shock of November, 1822, at Valparaiso.

At other times rain has followed earthquakes at a period of the year when it is a far greater prodigy than the earthquake itself: this happened after the shock of November, 1822, and again in 1829, at Valparaiso; also after that of September, 1833, at Tacna.

A person must be somewhat habituated to these climates, to understand the excessive improbability of rain falling at such seasons, except as a consequence of some law quite unconnected with the ordinary course of the weather. In the case of great volcanic eruptions, as that of Coseguina, where torrents of rain fell at a time of year most unusual for it, and “almost unprecedented in Central America,”*/~ it is not difficult to understand that the volumes of vapour and clouds of ashes, might have disturbed the atmospheric equilibrium. Humboldt†/~ extends this view to the case of earthquakes ~/{unaccompanied by eruptions}; but {I can hardly}/{for my part, I cannot} conceive it possible, that the small quantity of aëriform fluid which at such times escapes from the fissured ground, can produce such remarkable effects.

* Caldcleugh. Philosoph. Transact. 1835.

† Personal Narrative, vol. ii., p. 219.


There appears much probability in the view first proposed by Mr. P. Scrope, that when the barometer is low, and when rain might naturally be expected to fall, the diminished pressure of the atmosphere over a wide extent of country, might well determine the precise day on which the earth, already stretched to the utmost by the subterranean forces, should yield, crack, and consequently tremble. It is, however, doubtful how far this idea will explain the circumstances of torrents of rain falling in the dry season during several days, after an earthquake unaccompanied by an eruption; such cases seem to bespeak some more intimate connexion between the atmospheric and subterranean regions.

Humboldt* has stated that, “on the days when the earth is shaken by violent shocks, the regularity of the horary variations of the barometer is not disturbed under the tropics. I have verified this observation at Cumana, at Lima, and at Riobamba; and it is so much the more worthy of fixing the attention of natural philosophers, as at St. Domingo, at the town of Cape François, it is asserted, that a water barometer† was observed to sink two inches and a half immediately before the earthquake of 1770. In the same manner it is related, that, at the destruction of Oran, a druggist fled with his family, because observing accidentally a few minutes before the earthquake, the height of the mercury in his barometer, he perceived that the column sunk in an extraordinary manner. I know not whether we can give credit to this assertion.” Mr. Alison, in a letter dated Valparaiso, informs me, that just before the earthquake of November, 1822, the mercury in the tube of the barometer standing in his store, sank beneath the graduated part. The tube was a bent one; nineteen inches being exposed, and the lowest graduated part corresponded to twenty-six English inches. With this third case, and more especially considering the unquestionable fact of rain so frequently following severe earthquakes, even at the most unusual seasons, I cannot conclude otherwise, than that there exists some connexion between the subterranean and atmospheric disturbances, of which we are at present quite ignorant.

* Ibid., p. 217.

† Courrejolles, in the Journal de Phys., tome liv., p. 106. This depression answers only to two lines of mercury. The barometer remained motionless at Pignerol, in April, 1808. —(Ibid., t. lxvii., p. 292.) [I may add that the earthquake alluded to by Courrejolles at p. 106, was accompanied by a “très-violent coup de vent;”which explains the fall of his water barometer. More lately, Mr. Williams, in his Narrative of Missionary Enterprise (p. 442), has given an account of a hurricane which devastated the Austral islands (S. W. of the Society Archipelago), and which at the Navigator Islands was accompanied by an earthquake.—C. D.]

Mr. Miers,* in his account of the Valparaiso earthquake, November 19th, 1822, has added one more to the list of coincidences between luminous meteors and earthquakes. He says “one of very considerable size, in apparent dimensions little less than the moon, was observed in the southward, at no very great elevation. It traversed a considerable arch of the heavens, leaving behind it a long train of light; and when it disappeared, it seemed to do so from explosion—as it leaped in the same manner as those which eject meteoric stones; but in this instance no noise was heard to attend its extinction, nor was it known that any stones fell. This occurred about half-past two o'clock in the morning after the earthquake.” The earthquake itself happened at half-past ten o'clock. Mr. Miers then adds, that a friend of his “travelling on the night of the 4th of November, about a fortnight preceding the great earthquake, observed at a little past eleven o'clock in the northern sky, a large meteor of great splendour.” It is remarkable that on this same day, according to the Journal of Science,† Copiapó to the northward was visited by a severe earthquake, which on the fifth was followed by a much more violent shock. Molina‡ states that the first shock which announced the great earthquake at midnight on the 24th of May, 1751, “was accompanied by a ball of fire, which precipitated itself from the Andes toward the sea.” It is said in the Encyclo. Metropol.— (art. Meteorology)—“At Kingston, in Jamaica, in November 1812, a large meteor appeared a few minutes previous to some alarming and tremendous concussions.” Aguerros§ states, on the authority of Ovalle, that in the morning of May 14th, 1633, Carelmapu (north of Chiloe) was overthrown by a bad earthquake, accompanied by a great noise; and that while the people were considering the cause, they saw over a high hill near the village a globe of fire, which appeared to threaten the last day. It rose and quickly proceeded so as to fall in the sea, disturbing the neighbouring waters. This was accompanied by a great tempest, darkness, and a hail-storm, in which pieces of ice fell as large as musket-balls.

* Miers's Travels, vol. i., p. 395.

† Vol. xvii.

‡ Molina (Spanish edition), vol. i., p. 33. At six o'clock in the evening of the 26th of May of the same year, that is about thirty-seven hours after the Concepcion earthquake, two meteoric stones fell near Agram in Croatia. They were seen coming from the west, which is in an opposite direction to the course of the Chilian meteor. This near coincidence of time was of course only accidental.

§ Descripcion Historial de Chiloe, p. 104. “Vieron sobre un monte o cerro alto inmediato al pueblo, un globo de fuego que parecia amenezada la ultima desgracia. Elevó se y fué luego a caer al mar, alterando inmediatamente sus aguas.”

I have copied the foregoing notices, because under any point of view, it is remarkable that in one quarter of the globe there should have been so many coincidences between phenomena of not very common occurrence. It must, however, be observed, that the coincidence is not precise; the meteors having been seen in some cases a little before, in others a little after the earthquake. From the account given in Aguerros of the waters of the sea having been disturbed, and from that by Miers of an apparent explosion, it would appear that these meteors must be the same with those that accompany the fall of meteoric stones. This perhaps alone, is an argument that they are accidental accompaniments of earthquakes; for there seems to be no rational method of explaining the origin of meteorolites on any hypothesis directly connected with our world. It is however very singular, that all their constituent parts should be of the same nature as those found on this earth,—that the metals should be chiefly those most subject to magnetic influence,—and that olivine should frequently be present; a mineral* which is exclusively confined to a certain class of volcanic products.

* Olivine is known to accompany basaltic in opposition to clinkstone rocks. Gmelin says, “Natron and potash characterize clinkstone; iron and magnesia, basalt.” “Magnesia and iron show a great tendency to enter into combination with each other.” These two latter substances are main constituents of meteoric stones, while the alkalies are generally present in very small quantities. Gmelin on Clinkstone, Edinburgh New Philosoph. Journal, April, 1829.


To return to the valley of Copiapó. Finding little of interest in this part of the ravine, we retraced our steps to the house of Don Benito, where I stayed two days collecting fossil shells and silicified wood. The latter was present in the most extraordinary quantity: it was here that I found a cylindrical trunk, fifteen feet in circumference, projecting from the side of a hill.

Finding little of interest in this part of the ravine, we retraced our steps to the house of Don Benito, where I stayed two days collecting fossil shells and wood. Great prostrate silicified trunks of trees, embedded in a conglomerate, were extraordinarily numerous. I measured one, which was fifteen feet in circumference: how surprising it is that every atom of the woody matter in this great cylinder should have been removed and replaced by silex so perfectly, that each vessel and pore is preserved! These trees flourished at about the period of our lower chalk; they all belonged to the fir-tribe.

It was amusing to hear discussions concerning the nature of the fossil shells,—whether or not they had been thus “born by nature,”—carried on almost in the same terms as were used a century before in Europe.

It was amusing to hear the inhabitants discussing the nature of the fossil shells which I collected, almost in the same terms as were used a century ago in Europe,—namely, whether or not they had been thus “born by nature.”

My geological examination of the country generally created a good deal of surprise amongst the Chilenos: it was long before they could be convinced that I was not hunting for mines. This was sometimes troublesome: I found the most ready way of explaining my employment, was to ask them how it was that they themselves were not curious concerning earthquakes and volcanos?—why some springs were hot and others cold?—why there were mountains in Chile, and not a hill in La Plata? These bare questions at once satisfied and silenced the greater number; some, however (like a few in England who are a century behindhand), thought that all such inquiries were useless and impious; and that it was quite sufficient that God had thus made the mountains.

An order had recently been issued that all stray dogs should be killed, and we saw many {carcasses lying on the high road}/(lying dead on the road}. A great number had lately {been affected with hydrophobia}/{gone mad}, and several men had been bitten and had died in consequence. On other/several occasions hydrophobia has prevailed in this valley. It is remarkable thus to find so strange and dreadful a disease, appearing time after time in the same isolated spot. It has been remarked that certain villages in England are in like manner much more subject to this visitation than others.

Hydrophobia must be extremely rare on the eastern side of the Andes, for Azara thought it was unknown in America; and Ulloa says the same with respect to Quito. I could not hear of a case having occurred in Van Diemen's Land, or in Australia; and Burchell says, during the five years he was at the Cape of Good Hope, he never heard of an instance of it. Webster again asserts that at the Azores, hydrophobia has never occurred; and the same observation has been made with respect to Mauritius and St. Helena.* In so strange a disease, some information might possibly be gained by considering the circumstances under which it originates in distant climates.

Dr. Unanue states that hydrophobia was first known in South America in 1803: this statement is corroborated by Azara and Ulloa having never heard of it in their time. Dr. Unanue says that it broke out in Central America, and slowly travelled southward. It reached Arequipa in 1807; and it is said that some men there, who had not been bitten, were affected, as were some negroes, who had eaten a bullock which had died of hydrophobia. At Ica forty-two people thus miserably perished. The disease came on between twelve and ninety days after the bite; and in those cases where it did come on, death ensued invariably within five days. After 1808, a long interval ensued without any cases.

{I could not hear of a case having occurred}/{On inquiry, I did not hear of hydrophobia} in Van Diemen's Land, or in Australia; and Burchell says, that during the five years he was at the Cape of Good Hope, he never heard of an instance of it. Webster asserts that at the Azores hydrophobia has never occurred; and the same observation/assertion has been made with respect to Mauritius and St. Helena.* In so strange a disease some information might possibly be gained by considering the circumstances under which it originates in distant climates ~/{for it is improbable that a dog already bitten, should have been brought to these distant countries}.

* {~/{Observa. sobre el Clima de Lima, p. 67.—}Azara's Travels, vol. i. p. 381.—Ulloa's Voyage, vol. ii. p. 28.—Burchell's Travels, vol. ii. p. 524.—Webster's Description of the Azores, p. 124.—Voyage a l'Isle de France par un Officer du Roi, tom. i. p. 248.—Description of St. Helena, p. 123.

At night, a stranger arrived at the house of Don Benito, and asked permission to sleep there. He said he had been wandering about the mountains for seventeen days, having lost his way. He started from Guasco, and being accustomed to {the mountains}/{travelling in the Cordillera}, did not expect any difficulty in following the track to Copiapó; but he soon became involved in a labyrinth of mountains, whence he could not escape. Some of his mules had fallen over precipices, and he had been in great distress. His chief difficulty arose from not knowing where to find water in the lower country, so that he was obliged to keep bordering the central ranges.

We returned down the valley, and on the 22nd reached the town of Copiapó. The lower part of the valley is broad, forming a fine plain like that of {Aconcagua or}/~ Quillota. The town covers a considerable space of ground, each house possessing a garden: but it is an uncomfortable place, and the dwellings are poorly furnished. Every one seems bent on the one object of making money, and then migrating as quickly as possible. All the inhabitants are more or less directly concerned with mines; and mines and ores are the sole subjects of conversation. Necessaries of all sorts are extremely dear; as the distance from the town to the port is eighteen leagues, and the land carriage very expensive. A fowl costs five or six shillings; meat is nearly as dear as in England; firewood, or rather sticks, are brought on donkeys from a distance of two and three days' journey within the Cordillera; and pasturage for animals is a shilling a day: all this for South America is wonderfully exorbitant.

June 26th.—I hired a guide and eight mules to take me into the Cordillera by a different line from my last excursion. As the country was utterly desert, we took a cargo and a half of barley mixed with chopped straw. About two leagues above the town a broad valley called the “Despoblado” or uninhabited, branches off from that one by which we had descended/arrived. Although a valley of the grandest dimensions, and leading to a pass across the Cordillera, yet it is completely dry, excepting perhaps for a few days during some very rainy winter. {The bottom of the main valley was nearly flat, and the}/{The} sides of the crumbling mountains were {but little furrowed by ravines}/{furrowed by scarcely any ravines; and the bottom of the main valley, filled with shingle, was smooth and nearly level}.

No considerable river could ever have poured its waters over the bed of shingle, without having excavated a channel similar to those occurring in the southern valleys. I feel little doubt that it was left in the state we now see it, by the gradually retiring sea. The dry valleys mentioned by travellers in Peru, probably owe their origin to a similar agency, and not to the running streams of any former period. I observed in one place, where a ravine (which amongst any other mountains would have been called a grand valley), joined the Despoblado, that the bed of the latter,

No considerable torrent could ever have flowed down this bed of shingle; for if it had, a great cliff-bounded channel, as in all the southern valleys, would assuredly have been formed. I feel little doubt that this valley, as well as those mentioned by travellers in Peru, were left in the state we now see them by the waves of the sea, as the land slowly rose. I observed in one place, where the Despoblado was joined by a ravine (which in almost any other chain would have been called a grand valley), that its bed

though composed merely of sand and gravel, was higher than that of its tributary. A mere rivulet of water, in the course of an hour, would have cut a channel for itself; but it was evident that centuries/ages had passed away, and no such rivulet had drained this great tributary. It was curious to behold this/the machinery, if such a term may be used, for the drainage, all, with the last trifling exception, perfect, yet without any signs of activity/action. Every one must have remarked how mud-banks, left by the retiring tide, imitate in miniature a country with hill and dale;

and here we find a model, only on a grander scale, formed by the waves of a retiring ocean. Let thousands of years replace minutes of the tidal change, and the difference between soft mud and hard rock will barely modify the result.

and here we have the original model in rock, formed as the continent rose during the secular retirement of the ocean, instead of during the ebbing and flowing of the tides.

If a shower of rain falls on the mud-bank, when left dry, it deepens the ~/{already-formed} shallow lines of excavation; and so it is with the rain of successive centuries on the bank of rock and soil, which we call a continent.

We rode on after it was dark, till we reached a side ravine with a small well, called “Agua amarga.” The water deserved its name, for besides being saline it was most offensively putrid and bitter; so that we could not force ourselves to drink either tea or maté. I suppose the distance from the river of Copiapó to this spot was at least twenty-five or thirty English miles; in the whole space there was not a single drop of water, the country almost/~ deserving the name of desert in the strictest sense. Yet about half way we passed the/some old Indian ruins near Punta Gorda{, which I have already mentioned.}/: I noticed also in front of some of the valleys, which branch off from the Despoblado, two piles of stones placed a little distance/way apart, and directed so as to point up the mouths of the/these small valley/valleys. My companions knew nothing about them, and only answered my queries by their imperturbable “quien sabe?”


I observed Indian ruins in several parts of the Cordillera: the most perfect which I saw, were the Ruinas de Tambillos, in the Uspallata Pass. Small square rooms were there huddled together in separate groups: some of the doorways were yet standing; they were formed by a cross slab of stone only about three feet high. Ulloa has remarked on the lowness of the doors in the ancient Peruvian dwellings. These houses, when perfect, must have been capable of containing a considerable number of persons. Tradition says, that they were used as halting-places for the Incas, when they crossed the mountains. Traces of Indian habitations have been discovered in many other parts, where it does not appear probable that they were used as mere resting-places, but yet where the land is as utterly unfit for any kind of cultivation, as it is near the Tambillos or at the Incas Bridge, or in the Portillo Pass, at all which places I saw ruins. In the ravine of Jajuel, near Aconcagua, where there is no pass, I heard of remains of houses situated at a great height, where it is extremely cold and sterile. At first I imagined that these buildings had been places of refuge, built by the Indians on the first arrival of the Spaniards; but I have since been inclined to speculate on the probability of a small change of climate.

In this northern part of Chile, within the Cordillera, old Indian houses are said to be especially numerous: by digging amongst the ruins, bits of woollen articles, instruments of precious metals, and heads of Indian corn, are not unfrequently discovered: an arrow-head made of agate, and of precisely the same form with those now used in Tierra del Fuego, was given me. I am aware that the Peruvian Indians now frequently inhabit most lofty and bleak situations; but at Copiapó I was assured by men who had spent their lives in travelling through the Andes, that there were very many (muchisimas) buildings at heights so great as almost to border upon the perpetual snow, and in parts where there exist no passes, and where the land produces absolutely nothing, and what is still more extraordinary, where there is no water. Nevertheless it is the opinion of the people of the country (although they are much puzzled by the circumstance), that, from the appearance of the houses, the Indians must have used them as places of residence. In this valley, at Punta Gorda, the remains consisted of seven or eight square little rooms, which were of a similar form with those at Tambillos, but built chiefly of mud, which the present inhabitants cannot, either here or, according to Ulloa, in Peru, imitate in durability. They were situated in the most conspicuous and defenceless position, at the bottom of the flat broad valley. There was no water nearer than three or four leagues, and that only in very small quantity, and bad: the soil was absolutely sterile; I looked in vain even for a lichen adhering to the rocks. At the present day, with the advantage of beasts of burden, a mine, unless it were very rich, could scarcely be worked here with profit. Yet the Indians formerly chose it as a place of residence! If at the present time two or three showers of rain were to fall annually, instead of one, as now is the case during as many years, a small rill of water would probably be formed in this great valley; and then, by irrigation (which was formerly so well understood by the Indians), the soil would easily be rendered sufficiently productive to support a few families.

I have convincing proofs that this part of the continent of South America has been elevated near the coast at least from 400 to 500, and in some parts from 1000 to 1300 feet, since the epoch of existing shells; and further inland the rise possibly may have been greater. As the peculiarly arid character of the climate is evidently a consequence of the height of the Cordillera, we may feel almost sure that before the later elevations, the atmosphere could not have been so completely drained of its moisture as it now is; and as the rise has been gradual, so would have been the change in climate. On this notion of a change of climate since the buildings were inhabited, the ruins must be of extreme antiquity, but I do not think their preservation under the Chilian climate any great difficulty. We must also admit on this notion (and this perhaps is a greater difficulty) that man has inhabited South America for an immensely long period, inasmuch as any change of climate effected by the elevation of the land must have been extremely gradual. At Valparaiso, within the last 220 years, the rise has been somewhat less than 19 feet: at Lima a sea-beach has certainly been upheaved from 80 to 90 feet, within the Indo-human period: but such small elevations could have had little power in deflecting the moisture-bringing atmospheric currents. Dr. Lund, however, found human skeletons in the caves of Brazil, the appearance of which induced him to believe that the Indian race has existed during a vast lapse of time in South America.

When at Lima, I conversed on these subjects* with Mr. Gill, a civil engineer, who had seen much of the interior country. He told me that a conjecture of a change of climate had sometimes crossed his mind; but that he thought that the greater portion of land, now incapable of cultivation, but covered with Indian ruins, had been reduced to this state by the water-conduits, which the Indians formerly constructed on so wonderful a scale, having been injured by neglect and by subterranean movements. I may here mention, that the Peruvians actually carried their irrigating streams in tunnels through hills of solid rock. Mr. Gill told me, he had been employed professionally to examine one: he found the passage low, narrow, crooked, and not of uniform breadth, but of very considerable length. Is it not most wonderful that men should have attempted such operations, without the use of iron or gunpowder? Mr. Gill also mentioned to me a most interesting, and, as far as I am aware, quite unparalleled case, of a subterranean disturbance having changed the drainage of a country. Travelling from Casma to Huaraz (not very far distant from Lima), he found a plain covered with ruins and marks of ancient cultivation but now quite barren. Near it was the dry course of a considerable river, whence the water for irrigation had formerly been conducted. There was nothing in the appearance of the water-course to indicate that the river had not flowed there a few years previously; in some parts, beds of sand and gravel were spread out; in others, the solid rock had been worn into a broad channel, which in one spot was about 40 yards in breadth and 8 feet deep. It is self-evident that a person following up the course of a stream, will always ascend at a greater or less inclination: Mr. Gill, therefore, was much astonished, when walking up the bed of this ancient river, to find himself suddenly going down hill. He imagined that the downward slope had a fall of about 40 or 50 feet perpendicular. We here have unequivocal evidence that a ridge had been uplifted right across the old bed of a stream. From the moment the river-course was thus arched, the water must necessarily have been thrown back, and a new channel formed. From that moment, also, the neighbouring plain must have lost its fertilizing stream, and become a desert.

* Temple, in his travels through Upper Peru, or Bolivia, in going from Potosi to Oruro, says, “I saw many Indian villages or dwellings in ruins, up even to the very tops of the mountains, attesting a former population where now all is desolate.” He makes similar remarks in another place; but I cannot tell whether this desolation has been caused by a want of population, or by an altered condition of the land.

June 27th.—We set out early in the morning, and by midday reached the ravine of Paypote, where there is a tiny rill of water, with a little vegetation, and even a few algarroba {(a mimosa) trees. On this latter account}/{trees, a kind of mimosa. From having firewood}, a smelting-furnace had formerly been built here: we found a solitary man in charge of it, whose sole employment was hunting guanacos. At night it froze sharply; but having plenty of wood for our fire, we kept ourselves warm.

28th.—We continued gradually {ascending as we followed the valley, which had now assumed the character of}/{ascending, and the valley now changed into} a ravine. During the day we saw several guanacos, and the track of the closely-allied species, called/~ the Vicuna: this latter animal is pre-eminently alpine in its habits; it seldom descends much below the limit of perpetual snow, and therefore haunts even a more lofty and sterile situation than the guanaco. The only other animal which we saw in any number was a small fox: I suppose this animal preys on the mice and other small rodents, which, as long as there is the least vegetation, subsist in considerable numbers in very desert places. In Patagonia, even on the borders of the salinas, where a drop of fresh water can never be found, ~/{excepting dew,} these little animals swarm. Next to lizards, mice appear to be able to support existence on the smallest and driest portions of the earth—even on islets in the midst of great oceans.

I believe it will be found, that several islands, which possess no other warmblooded quadruped, have small rodents peculiar to themselves.


The scenery/scene on all sides showed desolation, brightened and made palpable by a clear, unclouded sky.

Custom excludes the feeling of sublimity, and when this is wanting, such scenery is rather the reverse of interesting.

For a time such scenery is sublime, but this feeling cannot last, and then it becomes uninteresting.

We bivouacked at {the foot of}/~ the “primera linea” or the first line of the partition of waters. The streams, however, on the east side do not flow to the Atlantic, but into an elevated district, in the middle of which there is a large salina, or salt lake; thus forming a little Caspian Sea at the height, perhaps, of ten thousand feet. Where we slept, there were some considerable patches of snow, but they do not remain throughout the year. The winds in these lofty regions obey very regular laws every day a fresh breeze blows up the valley, and at night, an hour or two after sunset, the air from the cold regions above descends as through a funnel. This night it blew a gale of wind, and the temperature must have been considerably below the freezing-point, for water in a {short time}/{vessel} soon became a block of ice. No clothes seemed to oppose any obstacle to the air; I suffered very much from the cold, so that I could not sleep, and in the morning rose with my body quite dull and benumbed.

In the Cordillera further southward, people lose their lives from snow-storms; here, it sometimes happens from another cause. My guide, when a boy of fourteen years old, was passing the Cordillera with {some others}/{a party} in the month of May; and while in the central parts, a furious gale of wind arose, so that the men could hardly stick/cling on their mules, and stones were flying along the ground. The day was cloudless, and not a speck of snow fell, but the temperature was low. It is probable that the thermometer could not have stood very many degrees below the freezing-point, but the effect on their bodies, ill protected by clothing, {would be}/{must have been} in proportion to the rapidity of the current of cold air. The gale lasted for more than a day; the men began to lose all/~ their strength, and the mules would not move onwards. My guide's brother tried to return, but he perished, and his body was found two years afterwards, Lying by the side of his mule near the road, with the bridle still in his hand. Two other men in the party lost their fingers and toes; and out of two hundred mules and thirty cows, only fourteen {of the former}/{mules} escaped alive. Many years ago the whole of a large party are supposed to have perished from a similar cause, but their bodies to this day have never been discovered. The union of a cloudless sky, low temperature, and a furious gale of wind, must be, I should think, in all parts of the world an unusual occurrence.

June 29th—We gladly travelled down the valley to our former night's lodging, and thence to near the Agua amarga. On July 1st we reached the valley of Copiapó. The smell of the fresh clover was quite delightful, after the scentless air of the dry, sterile Despoblado. Whilst staying in the town I heard an account from several of the inhabitants, of a hill in the neighbourhood which they called “El Bramador”—the roarer or bellower. I did not at the time pay sufficient attention to the account; but, as far as I understood, the hill was covered by sand, and the noise was produced only when people, by ascending it, put the sand in motion.

{Upon reading an article in the Edinburgh Journal,* I was surprised to find the}/{The} same circumstances {,}/are described in detail on the authority of Seetzen and Ehrenbergh,~/* as the cause of the sounds, which have been heard by many travellers on Mount Sinai near the Red Sea. One person with whom I conversed had himself heard the noise; he described it as very surprising; and he distinctly stated, that although he could not understand how it was effected, yet it was necessary to set the sand rolling down the acclivity. I can vouch for the quantity of loose sand lying on the bare granite mountains in this neighbourhood. From the position of the hill, and from the account which I received, the phenomenon certainly does not appear to have any direct connexion with volcanic causes. {I may remark that a}/{A} horse walking over dry and coarse sand, causes a peculiar chirping noise from the friction of the particles: a fact which I have several times noticed on the coast of Brazil.

* Edinburgh, Philosophical Journal, January, 1830, p. 74. Also, another article in the number for April in the same year, p. 258. See also Daubeny on Volcanoes, p. 438.

* Edinburgh, Phil. Journ., Jan., 1830, p. 74; and April, 1830, p. 258—also Daubeny on Volcanoes, p. 438; and Bengal Journ., vol. vii. p. 324.

Three days afterwards I heard of the Beagle's arrival at the port, which is distant eighteen leagues. There is very little land cultivated below the town. The wide expanse of the valley

Three days afterwards I heard of the Beagle's arrival at the Port, distant eighteen leagues from the town. There is very little land cultivated down the valley; its wide expanse

supports a wretched wiry grass, which even the donkeys can hardly eat. This poorness of the vegetation is owing to the quantity of saline matter with which the soil is impregnated.

Layers of sulphate and carbonate of soda, even several inches thick, occur in some parts.


The port consists of an assemblage of miserable little hovels, situated at the foot of some sterile plains and hills. At present, from the river reaching the sea, the inhabitants enjoy the advantage of having fresh water within a mile and a half.

The Port consists of an assemblage of miserable little hovels, situated at the foot of a sterile plain. At present, as the river contains water enough to reach the sea, the inhabitants enjoy the advantage of having fresh water within a mile and a half.

On the beach there were large piles of merchandise, and the little place had an air of activity. In the evening I gave my adios, with a hearty good-will, to my companion Mariano Gonzales, with whom I had ridden so many leagues in Chile. The next morning the Beagle sailed for Iquique{, lat. 20° 12' on the coast of Peru}/~.

July 12th.—We anchored in the port of Iquique ~/{, in lat. 20° 12', on the coast of Peru}. The town contains about a thousand inhabitants, and stands on a little plain of sand at the foot of a great wall of rock, 2000 feet in height, {which here forms}/{here forming} the coast. The whole is utterly desert. A light shower of rain falls only once in very many years; and hence/~ the ravines ~/consequently are filled with detritus, and the mountain-sides covered by piles of fine white sand, even ~/{to a height of} a thousand feet. During this season of the year a heavy bank of clouds, {extending parallel to}/{stretched over} the ocean, seldom rises above the wall of rocks on the coast. The aspect of the place was most gloomy; the little port, with its few vessels, and small group of wretched houses, seemed overwhelmed and out of all proportion with the rest of the scene.

The inhabitants live like persons on board a ship: every necessary comes from a distance: water is brought in boats from Pisagua, about forty miles northward, and is sold at the rate of nine reals (4s. 6d.) an eighteen-gallon cask: I bought a wine-bottle full for threepence. In like manner firewood, and of course every article of food, is imported. Very few animals can be maintained in such a place: on the ensuing morning I hired with difficulty, at the price of four pounds sterling, two mules and a guide to take me to the saltpetre/{nitrate of soda} works. These are at present the support of Iquique.

During one year the value of one hundred thousand pounds sterling was exported to France and England. This saltpetre does not properly deserve to be so called; for it consists of nitrate of soda, and not of potash, and is therefore of much less value. It is said to be principally used in the manufacture of nitric acid. Owing to its deliquescent property it will not serve for gunpowder. Formerly there were two exceedingly rich silver-mines in this neighbourhood, but they now produce very little.

This salt was first exported in 1830: in one year an amount in value of one hundred thousand pounds sterling, was sent to France and England. It is principally used as a manure and in the manufacture of nitric acid: owing to its deliquescent property it will not serve for gunpowder. Formerly there were two exceedingly rich silver-mines in this neighbourhood, but their produce is now very small.

Our arrival in the offing caused some little apprehension. Peru was in a state of anarchy; and each party having demanded a contribution, the poor town of Iquique was in tribulation, thinking the evil hour was come. The people had also their domestic troubles; a short time before, three French carpenters had broken open{ the two churches during the same night}/{, during the same night, the two churches}, and stolen all the plate: one of the robbers, however, subsequently confessed, and the plate was recovered. The convicts were sent to Arequipa, which though the capital of this province, is two hundred leagues distant, the government there thought it a pity to punish such useful workmen, who could make all sorts of furniture; and accordingly liberated them. Things being in this state, the churches were again broken open, but {the plate this time}/{this time the plate} was not recovered. The inhabitants became dreadfully enraged, and declaring that none but heretics would thus “eat God Almighty” proceeded to torture some Englishmen, with the intention of afterwards shooting them. At last the authorities interfered, and peace was established.

{July 13th}/{13th}.—In the morning I started for the saltpetre-works, a distance of fourteen leagues. Having ascended the steep coast-mountains by a zigzag sandy track, we soon came in view of the mines of Guantajaya and St. Rosa. These two small villages are placed at the very mouths of the mines{. If the town of Iquique appeared desolate, these,}/{; and} being perched up on hills, ~/{they} had a still more unnatural {aspect}/{and desolate appearance than the town of Iquique}. We did not reach the saltpetre-works till after sunset, having ridden all day across an undulating country, a complete and utter desert. The road was strewed with the bones and dried skins of the/~ many beasts of burden which had perished on it from fatigue. Excepting the Vultur aura, which preys on the carcasses, I saw neither bird, quadruped, reptile, or/nor insect. On the coast-mountains, at the elevation/height of about 2000 feet where during this season the clouds generally hang, a very few cacti were growing in the clefts of rock; and the loose sand was strewed over with a simple/~ lichen, which lies on the surface quite unattached. This plant belongs to the genus Cladonia, and somewhat resembles the reindeer lichen. In some parts it was in sufficient quantity to tinge the sand, as seen from a distance, of a pale yellowish colour. Further inland, during the whole ride of fourteen leagues, I saw only one other vegetable production, and that was a most minute yellow lichen, growing on the bones of the dead mules. This was the first true desert which I had seen: the effect on me was not impressive; but I believe this was owing to my having become gradually accustomed to such scenes, as I rode northward from Valparaiso, through Coquimbo, to Copiapó. The appearance of the country was remarkable, from being covered by a thick crust of common salt, and of a ~/stratified saliferous sandstone/alluvium, which {properly deserves the name of alluvium}/{seems to have been deposited as the land slowly rose above the level of the sea}. The salt is white, very hard, and compact: it occurs in water worn nodules {which project}/{projecting} from the agglutinated sand {or soft sandstone}/{, and is associated with much gypsum}. The appearance of this superficial mass very closely resembled that of a country after snow, before the last dirty patches have/are thawed.

The rocks of which the mountains are composed are saliferous; and I imagine, the very small quantity of rain that falls, is sufficient only to wash the salt from the higher strata, and that afterwards it concretes in nodules and patches, in the sandy soil of the valleys. Whatever its origin may be, the existence of a crust of a soluble substance over the whole face of the country, shows how extraordinarily dry the climate must have been for a period long antecedent.

The existence of this crust of a soluble substance over the whole face of the country, shows how extraordinarily dry the climate must have been for a long period.

At night I slept at the house of the owner of one of the saltpetre mines. The country is here {equally unproductive with that}/{as unproductive as} near the coast; but water, having rather a bitter and brackish taste, can be procured by digging ~/wells. The well at this house was thirty-six yards deep: as scarcely any rain falls, it is evident the water is not {derived from that source}/{thus derived}; indeed if it were, it could not fail to be as salt as brine, for the whole surrounding country is incrusted with various saline substances. We must therefore conclude that it percolates

from some distant and more humid region, probably the mountains of the higher Cordillera.

under ground from the Cordillera, though distant many leagues.

In that direction there are a few small villages, {such as Tarapaca,}/~ where the inhabitants, having more water, are enabled to irrigate some little land, and produce hay, on which the mules and asses employed in carrying the saltpetre are fed.

The nitrate of soda is sold at the ship's side at fourteen shillings per hundred pounds. The chief expense is the transport to the sea-coast. The mine itself consists of a stratum between two and three feet thick, of the hard and nearly pure salt, lying close beneath the surface. The stratum follows the margin of a grand basin or plain, which manifestly must once have been either a lake or inland sea: the elevation at present is 3300 feet above the level of the Pacific. On our return we made a detour by the mines of Guantajaya. The village consists solely of the houses of the miners, and the place is utterly destitute of every necessary;æeven water being brought thirty miles on the backs of animals. At present the mines yield little; though formerly they were very productive. One has a depth of four hundred yards, and out of it masses of silver were taken so pure, that it was only required to melt them in order to run them into bars. We reached Iquique after sunset: I went on board, and then the Beagle weighed for Lima. I was very glad to have seen this place, as I understand it is a good type of the greater part of the coast of Peru.

The nitrate of soda was now selling at the ship's side at fourteen shillings per hundred pounds: the chief expense is its transport to the sea-coast. The mine consists of a hard stratum, between two and three feet thick, of the nitrate mingled with a little of the sulphate of soda and a good deal of common salt. It lies close beneath the surface, and follows for a length of one hundred and fifty miles the margin of a grand basin or plain; this, from its outline, manifestly must once have been a lake, or more probably an inland arm of the sea, as may be inferred from the presence of iodic salts in the saline stratum. The surface of the plain is 3300 feet above the Pacific.

19th.—We anchored in the Bay of Callao, the seaport of Lima, the capital of Peru. We stayed here six weeks but from the troubled state of public affairs, I saw very little of the country. During our whole visit the climate was far from being so delightful, as it is generally represented. A dull heavy bank of clouds constantly hung over the land, so that during the first sixteen days I had only one view of the Cordillera behind Lima. These mountains, seen in stages, one above the other, through openings in the clouds, had a very grand appearance. It has/is almost become a proverb, that rain never falls in the lower part of Peru. Yet this can hardly be considered correct; for during almost every day of our visit there was a thick drizzling mist, which was sufficient to make the streets muddy and one's clothes damp: this the people are pleased to call Peruvian dew. That much rain does not fall is very certain, for the houses are covered only with flat roofs made of hardened mud; and on the mole shiploads of wheat were piled up, {and are}/{being} thus left for weeks together without any shelter.

I cannot say I liked the very little I saw of Peru: in summer, however, it is said that the climate is much pleasanter. In all seasons, both inhabitants and foreigners suffer from severe attacks of ague. This disease is common on the whole coast of Peru, but is unknown in the interior. The attacks of illness which arise from miasma never fail to appear most mysterious. So difficult is it to judge from the aspect of a country, whether or not it is healthy, that if a person had been told to choose within the tropics a situation appearing favourable for health, very probably he would have named this coast. The plain round the outskirts of Callao is sparingly covered with a coarse grass, and in some parts there are a few stagnant, though very small, pools of water. The miasma, in all probability, arises from these: for the town of Arica was similarly circumstanced, and its healthiness was much improved by the drainage of {the water}/{some little pools}. The/~ Miasma is not always produced by a luxuriant vegetation with an ardent climate; for many parts of Brazil, even where there are marshes and a rank vegetation, are much more healthy than this sterile coast of Peru. The densest forests in a temperate climate, as in Chiloe, do not seem in the slightest degree to affect the healthy condition of the atmosphere.

Addendum to Page 446: When I put together the few and exceedingly imperfect remarks on the subject of Miasmata, I did not know of Dr. Ferguson's remarkable dissertation—the result of his investigations in Holland, Spain, Portugal, and the West Indies—on the Nature and History of Marsh Poison (Edinburgh Royal Transact., vol. ix., p. 273). He there clearly proves the fact, which had struck me with so much surprise, namely, that the driest districts, which, according to common notions, would be considered as the most healthy, are often singularly the contrary. In his concluding remarks, Dr. Ferguson says (p. 290), “One only condition, then, seems to be indispensable to the production of the marsh poison, on all surfaces capable of absorption, and that is the paucity of water, where it has previously or recently abounded. To this there is no exception in climates of high temperature; and from thence we may justly infer, that the poison is produced at a highly advanced stage of the drying process.” And, from facts previously stated, it would appear that even in barren hilly countries, the banks of mountain torrents, which had been overflowed, sometimes became extremely insalubrious. In another place, Dr. Ferguson says, “It is from these (the dried and half-dried margins of lakes and marshes) that the poison uniformly emanates, and never from the body of the lake or pool; and I think it may be fairly presumed, that water, as long as it can preserve the figure of its particles above the surface, is innoxious, and that it must first be absorbed into the soil, and disappear from the eye, before it can produce any mischievous effects. Whoever in malarious countries waits for the evidence of putrefaction will, in all the most dangerous places, wait too long, as every one can testify who has seen pestilence teem forth, to the paralyzation of armies,—from the bare barren sands of the Alentejo in Portugal, the arid burnt plains of Estremadura in Spain, and the recently flooded table-lands of Barbadoes.” I cannot forbear quoting here a remarkable fact, mentioned by Humboldt, though interpreted in a different manner by that illustrious traveller. Speaking of the intermittent fevers which are so common near the great cataracts, or raudales, of the Orinoko, he says (Pers. Nar., vol. v., p. 17) the causes “ are violent heats, joined with the excessive humidity of the air, bad nutriment, and, if we may believe the natives (as well as the missionaries), the pestilent exhalations that arise from the bare rocks of the raudales.” Further on (p. 85), he says, “many examples are adduced of persons, who having passed the night on these black and naked rocks, have awakened in the morning with a strong paroxysm of fever.” Humboldt thinks that these cases may be explained by the effect produced on the body by the high temperature, which the black rocks, coated with a layer of the oxides of manganese and iron, retain during the night. But it appears to me that the relation is too remarkable to be thus explained, between this fact and those mentioned by Dr. Ferguson, in which the desiccation of nearly bare rock in Spain, and of a very thin bed of earth overlying dry coral-rock in the West Indies, has given rise to the most pestiferous exhalations.


The island of St. Jago, at the Cape de Verds, offers another strongly marked instance of a country, which any one would have expected to find most healthy, being very much the contrary. I have described the bare and open plains as supporting, during a few weeks after the rainy season, a thin vegetation, which directly withers away and dries up: at that/this period the air appears to become quite poisonous; both natives and foreigners often being affected with violent fevers. On the other hand, the Galapagos Archipelago, in the Pacific, with a similar soil, and periodically subject to the same process of vegetation, is perfectly healthy. Humboldt has observed, that, “under the torrid zone, the smallest marshes are the most dangerous, being surrounded, as at Vera Cruz and Carthagena, with an arid and sandy soil, which raises the temperature of the ambient air.”* {I must observe, however, that on}/{On} the coast of Peru, ~/{however,} the temperature is not hot to any excessive degree; and perhaps in consequence, the intermittent fevers are not of the most malignant order. In all unhealthy countries the greatest risk is run by sleeping on shore. Is this owing to the state of the body during sleep, or to a greater abundance of miasma at such times? It appears certain that those who stay on board a vessel, though anchored at only a short distance from the coast, generally suffer less than those actually on shore. On the other hand, I have heard of one remarkable case where a fever broke out among the crew of a man-of-war some hundred miles off the coast of Africa, and at the same time one of those fearful periods~/† of death commenced at Sierra Leone.

* Political Essay on the Kingdom of New Spain, vol. iv. p. 199.

† A similar interesting case is recorded in the Madras Medical Quart. Journ., 1839, p. 340. Dr. Ferguson, in his admirable Paper (see 9th vol. of Edinburgh Royal Trans.), shows clearly that the poison is generated in the drying process; and hence that dry hot countries are often the most unhealthy.

No state in South America, since the declaration of independence, has suffered more from anarchy than Peru. At the time of our visit, there were four chiefs in arms contending for supremacy in the government: if one succeeded in becoming for a time very powerful, the others coalesced against him; but no sooner were they victorious, than they were again hostile to each other. The other day, at the Anniversary of the Independence, high mass was performed, the President partaking of the sacrament: during the Te Deum laudamus, instead of each regiment displaying the Peruvian flag, a black one with death's head was unfurled. Imagine a government under which such a scene could be ordered, on such an occasion, to be typical of their determination of fighting to death! This state of affairs happened at a time very unfortunately for me, as I was precluded from taking any excursions much beyond the limits of the town. The barren island of St. Lorenzo, which forms the harbour, was nearly the only place where one could walk securely. The upper part, which is {about 1200 feet}/{upwards of 1000 feet} in height, during this season of the year (winter), comes within the lower limit of the clouds; and in consequence {of this}/~, an abundant cryptogamic vegetation, and a few flowers covered/cover the summit. On the hills near Lima, at {an elevation}/{a height} but little greater, the ground is carpeted with moss, and beds of beautiful yellow lilies, called Amancaes. This indicates a very much greater degree of humidity, than at a corresponding height at Iquique. Travelling/Proceeding northward ~/{of Lima}, the climate becomes damper, till on the banks of the Guayaquil, nearly under the equator, we find the most luxuriant forests. The change, however, from the sterile coast of Peru to that fertile land is described as taking place rather abruptly in the latitude of Cape Blanco, two degrees south of Guayaquil.

Callao is a filthy, ill-built, small seaport. The inhabitants, both there/here and at Lima, present every imaginable shade of mixture, between European, Negro, and Indian blood. They appear a depraved, drunken set of people. The atmosphere is loaded with foul smells, and that peculiar one, which may be perceived in almost every town within the tropics, was here very strong. The fortress, which withstood Lord Cochrane's long siege, has an imposing appearance. But the President, during our stay, sold the brass guns, and proceeded to dismantle parts of it. The reason assigned was, that he had not an officer to whom he could trust so important a charge. He himself had good reason for {knowing this}/{thinking so}, as he had obtained the presidentship by rebelling while in charge of this same fortress. After we left South America, he paid the penalty in the usual manner, by being conquered, taken prisoner, and shot.

Lima stands on a plain in a valley, formed during the gradual retreat of the sea. It is distant/~ seven miles from Callao, and is elevated 500 feet above it; but from the slope being very gradual, the road appears absolutely level; so that when at Lima it is difficult to believe one has ascended some/{even one} hundred feet: Humboldt has remarked on this singularly deceptive case. Steep barren hills rise like islands from the plain, which is divided, by straight mud-walls, into large green fields.

In these scarcely a tree grows excepting a few willows; and the presence of an occasional clump of bananas and of oranges, alone reminded one that the landscape of a country in latitude 12° might have boasted of a far more splendid vegetation.

In these scarcely a tree grows excepting a few willows, and an occasional clump of bananas and of oranges.

The city of Lima is now in a wretched state of decay: the streets are nearly unpaved; and heaps of filth are piled up in all directions, where the black gallinazos, tame as poultry, pick up bits of carrion. The houses have generally an upper story, built on account of the earthquakes, of plastered woodwork but some of the old ones, which are now used by several families, are immensely large, and would rival in suites of apartments the most magnificent in any place. Lima, the City of the Kings, must formerly have been a splendid town. The extraordinary number of churches{, even at the present day, gives it}/{gives it, even at the present day,} a peculiar and striking character, especially when viewed from a short distance.

One day I went out with some merchants to hunt in the immediate vicinity of the city. Our sport was very poor; but I had an opportunity of seeing the ruins of one of the ancient Indian villages, with its {hill-like mound}/{mound like a natural hill} in the centre. The remains of houses, enclosures, irrigating streams, and burial mounds, scattered over this plain, cannot fail to give one a high idea of the condition and number of the ancient population. When their earthenware, woollen clothes, utensils of elegant forms cut out of the hardest rocks, tools of copper, ornaments of precious stones, palaces, and hydraulic works, are considered, it is impossible not to respect the considerable advance made by them in the arts of civilization. The burial mounds, called Huacas, are really stupendous; although in some places {it is only a natural hill which appears to have been}/{they appear to be natural hills} incased and modelled.

There is also another and very different class of ruins, which possesses some interest, namely, those of old Callao, overwhelmed by the great earthquake of 1746, and its accompanying wave. The destruction must have been more complete even than at Concepcion/Talcahuano. Quantities of shingle almost conceal the foundations of the walls, and vast masses of brickwork appear to have been whirled about {by the retiring waves like pebbles}/{like pebbles by the retiring waves}. It has been stated that the land subsided during this memorable shock: I could not discover any proof of this; yet it seems far from improbable, for the form of the coast must certainly have undergone some change since the foundation of the old town; as no people in their senses would willingly have chosen for their building place, the narrow spit of shingle on which the ruins now stand.


Since our voyage, M. Tschudi has come to the conclusion, by the comparison of old and modern maps, that the coast both north and south of Lima has certainly subsided.

On the island of San Lorenzo, there are very satisfactory proofs of elevation within the recent period: this of course would not contravene the belief of a small subsidence, if any signs of such movement could be discovered. The side of the mountain fronting the bay on that island, is worn into three obscure terraces, which are covered by masses of shells many hundred tons in weight, of species now existing on the beach. Several of the univalves had serpulæ and small balani attached on their insides; proving that they must have remained some time, after the animal had died, at the bottom of the sea. In such cases we may feel sure that they had not been carried up, as has sometimes been believed, either by birds or men for food.

When examining the beds of shells, which have been raised above the level of the sea, on other parts of the coast, I often felt curious to trace their final disappearance from decay. On the island of San Lorenzo, this could be done in the most satisfactory manner: at a small height the shells were quite perfect; on a terrace, eighty-five feet above the sea, they were partially decomposed and coated by a soft scaly substance; at double this altitude a thin layer of calcareous powder beneath the soil, without a trace of organic structure, was all that could be discovered. This highly curious and satisfactory gradation of change, it is evident could be traced only under the peculiar conditions of this climate, where rain never falls so as to wash away the particles of shells in their last stage of decomposition. I was much interested by finding embedded, together with pieces of sea-weed in the mass of shells, in the eighty-five foot bed, a bit of cotton-thread, plaited rush, and the head of a stalk of Indian corn. This fact, coupled with another, which will be mentioned, proves I think the amount of eighty-five feet elevation since man inhabited this part of Peru. On the coast of Patagonia and La Plata, where perhaps the movements have been slower, there is evidence, as we have seen, that several mammalia have become extinct during a smaller change of level.

On the island of San Lorenzo, there are very satisfactory proofs of elevation within the recent period; this of course is not opposed to the belief, of a small sinking of the ground having subsequently taken place. The side of this island fronting the Bay of Callao, is worn into three obscure terraces, the lower one of which is covered by a bed a mile in length, almost wholly composed of shells of eighteen species, now living in the adjoining sea. The height of this bed is eighty-five feet. Many of the shells are deeply corroded, and have a much older and more decayed appearance than those at the height of 500 or 600 feet on the coast of Chile. These shells are associated with much common salt, a little sulphate of lime (both probably left by the evaporation of the spray, as the land slowly rose), together with sulphate of soda and muriate of lime. They rest on fragments of the underlying sandstone, and are covered by a few inches thick of detritus. The shells, higher up on this terrace could be traced scaling off in flakes, and falling into an impalpable powder; and on an upper terrace, at the height of 170 feet, and likewise at some considerably higher points, I found a layer of saline powder of exactly similar appearance, and lying in the same relative position. I have no doubt that this upper layer originally existed as a bed of shells, like that on the eighty-five-feet ledge; but it does not now contain even a trace of organic structure. The powder has been analyzed for me by Mr. T. Reeks; it consists of sulphates and muriates both of lime and soda, with very little carbonate of lime. It is known that common salt and carbonate of lime left in a mass for some time together, partly decompose each other; though this does not happen with small quantities in solution. As the half-decomposed shells in the lower parts are associated with much common salt, together with some of the saline substances composing the upper saline layer, and as these shells are corroded and decayed in a remarkable manner, I strongly suspect that this double decomposition has here taken place. The resultant salts, however, ought to be carbonate of soda and muriate of lime, the latter is present, but not the carbonate of soda. Hence I am led to imagine that by some unexplained means, the carbonate of soda becomes changed into the sulphate. It is obvious that the saline layer could not have been preserved in any country in which abundant rain occasionally fell: on the other hand, this very circumstance, which at first sight appears so highly favourable to the long preservation of exposed shells, has probably been the indirect means, through the common salt not having been washed away, of their decomposition and early decay.

I was much interested by finding on the terrace, at the height of eighty-five feet, embedded amidst the shells and much sea-drifted rubbish, some bits of cotton thread, plaited rush, and the head of a stalk of Indian corn: I compared these relics with similar ones taken out of the Huacas, or old Peruvian tombs, and found them identical in appearance. On the mainland in front of San Lorenzo, near Bellavista, there is an extensive and level plain about a hundred feet high, of which the lower part is formed of alternating layers of sand and impure clay, together with some gravel, and the surface, to the depth of from three to six feet, of a reddish loam, containing a few scattered sea-shells and numerous small fragments of coarse red earthenware, more abundant at certain spots than at others. At first I was inclined to believe that this superficial bed, from its wide extent and smoothness, must have been deposited beneath the sea; but I afterwards found in one spot, that it lay on an artificial floor of round stones. It seems, therefore, most probable that at a period when the land stood at a lower level there was a plain very similar to that now surrounding Callao, which being protected by a shingle beach, is raised but very little above the level of the sea. On this plain, with its underlying red-clay beds, I imagine that the Indians manufactured their earthen vessels; and that, during some violent earthquake, the sea broke over the beach, and converted the plain into a temporary lake, as happened round Callao in 1713 and 1746. The water would then have deposited mud, containing fragments of pottery from the kilns, more abundant at some spots than at others, and shells from the sea. This bed, with fossil earthenware, stands at about the same height with the shells on the lower terrace of San Lorenzo, in which the cotton-thread and other relics were embedded.

Hence we may safely conclude, that within the Indo-human period there has been an elevation, as before alluded to, of more than eighty-five feet; for some little elevation must have been lost by the coast having subsided since the old maps were engraved.

At Valparaiso, where there exist abundant proofs of recent elevation to a greater altitude than in this part of Peru, I can show that the greatest possible change during the last 220 years, has not exceeded the small measure of fifteen feet.

On the mainland in front of San Lorenzo, near Bellavista, there is an extensive and level plain, at the height of about a hundred feet. The section on the coast shows that the lower part consists of alternating layers of sand and impure clay, together with some gravel; and the surface, to the depth of from three to six feet, of a reddish loam, containing a few scattered sea-shells, and numerous small fragments of coarse red earthenware. At first I was inclined to believe that this superficial bed must have been deposited beneath the sea; but I afterwards found in one spot, that it covered an artificial floor of round stones. The conclusion which then seemed most probable was, that at a period when the land stood at a less height, there was a plain very similar to the one now surrounding Callao, which being protected by a shingle beach, is raised but very little above the level of the sea. On this plain, with its clay beds, I imagine the Indians manufactured their earthen vessels; and that, during some violent earthquake, the sea broke over the beach and converted the plain into a temporary lake, as happened in 1713* around Callao. The water would then deposit mud, containing fragments of pottery from the kilns, and shells from the sea. This bed with fossil earthenware occurring at about the same altitude with the terrace on San Lorenzo, confirms the supposed amount of elevation within the human period.

* Frezier's Voyage.

At Valparaiso, although in the 220 years before our visit, the elevation cannot have exceeded nineteen feet, yet subsequently to 1817, there has been a rise, partly insensible and partly by a start during the shock of 1822, of ten or eleven feet. The antiquity of the Indo-human race here, judging by the eighty-five feet rise of the land since the relics were embedded, is the more remarkable, as on the coast of Patagonia, when the land stood about the same number of feet lower, the Macrauchenia was a living beast; but as the Patagonian coast is some way distant from the Cordillera, the rising there may have been slower than here. At Bahia Blanca, the elevation has been only a few feet since the numerous gigantic quadrupeds were there entombed; and, according to the generally received opinion, when these extinct animals were living, man did not exist. But the rising of that part of the coast of Patagonia, is perhaps no way connected with the Cordillera, but rather with a line of old volcanic rocks in Banda Oriental, so that it may have been infinitely slower than on the shores of Peru. All these speculations, however, must be vague; for who will pretend to say that there may not have been several periods of subsidence, intercalated between the movements of elevation; for we know that along the whole coast of Patagonia, there have certainly been many and long pauses in the upward action of the elevatory forces.



Islands volcanic—Number of craters—Leafless bushes—Colony at Charles Island—James Island—Salt-lake in crater—Character of vegetation—Ornithology, curious finches—Great Tortoises, habits of, paths to the wells—Marine Lizard feeds on sea-weed—Terrestrial species, burrowing habits, herbivorous—Importance of reptiles in the Archipelago—Few and minute insects—American type of Organization—Species confined to certain islands—Tameness of birds—Falkland Islands—Fear of man an acquired instinct.



The whole Group Volcanic—Number of craters—Leafless bushes—Colony at Charles Island—James Island—Salt-lake in crater—Natural History of the group—Ornithology, curious finches—Reptiles—Great tortoises, habits of—Marine lizard, feeds on sea-weed—Terrestrial lizard, burrowing habits, herbivorous—Importance of reptiles in the Archipelago—Fish, shells, insects—Botany—American type of organization—Differences in the species or races on different islands—Tameness of the birds—Fear of man, an acquired instinct.

September 15th.—The Beagle arrived at the southern-most of the Galapagos islands. This archipelago consists of ten principal islands, of which five exceed the others in size. They are situated under the equatorial line, and between five and six hundred miles westward of the coast of America. The constitution of the whole is volcanic. With the exception of some ejected fragments of granite, which have been most curiously glazed and altered by the heat, every part consists of lava, or of sandstone resulting from the attrition of such materials. The higher islands, (which attain an elevation of three, and even four thousand feet) generally have one or more principal craters towards their centre, and on their flanks smaller orifices. I have no exact data from which to calculate, but I do not hesitate to affirm, that there must be, in all the islands of the archipelago, at least two thousand craters. These are of two kinds; one, as in ordinary cases, consisting of scoriae and lava, the other of finely-stratified volcanic sandstone. The latter in most instances have a form beautifully symmetrical: their origin is due to the ejection of mud,—that is, fine volcanic ashes and water,—without any lava.

II, p. 493: … some of the officers went to the top of the highest hill, which has a crater, as have all the hills we examined about these islands; and these craters are all similarly broken down on the side towards the south.

September 15th.—This archipelago consists of ten principal islands, of which five exceed the others in size. They are situated under the Equator, and between five and six hundred miles westward of the coast of America. They are all formed of volcanic rocks; a few fragments of granite curiously glazed and altered by the heat, can hardly be considered as an exception. Some of the craters, surmounting the larger islands, are of immense size, and they rise to a height of between three and four thousand feet. Their flanks are studded by innumerable smaller orifices. I scarcely hesitate to affirm, that there must be in the whole archipelago at least two thousand craters. These consist either of lava or scoriae, or of finely-stratified, sandstone-like tuff. Most of the latter are beautifully symmetrical; they owe their origin to eruptions of volcanic mud without any lava: it is a remarkable circumstance that every one of the twenty-eight tuff-craters which were examined, had their southern sides either much lower than the other sides, or quite broken down and removed. As all these craters apparently have been formed when standing in the sea, and as the waves from the trade wind and the swell from the open Pacific here unite their forces on the southern coasts of all the islands, this singular uniformity in the broken state of the craters, composed of the soft and yielding tuff, is easily explained.§

§ For some additional commentary, see the 1905 edition of The Voyage of the Beagle.

Considering that these islands are placed directly under the equator, the climate is far from being excessively hot; a circumstance which, perhaps, is chiefly caused by the singularly low temperature of the surrounding sea. Excepting during one short season, very little rain falls, and even then it is not regular; but the clouds generally hang low. From these circumstances the lower parts of the islands are extremely arid, whilst the summits, at an elevation of a thousand feet or more, possess a tolerably luxuriant vegetation. This is especially the case on the windward side, which first receives and condenses the moisture from the atmosphere.

Considering that these islands are placed directly under the equator, the climate is far from being excessively hot; this seems chiefly caused by the singularly low temperature of the surrounding water, brought here by the great southern Polar current. Excepting during one short season, very little rain falls, and even then it is irregular; but the clouds generally hang low. Hence, whilst the lower parts of the islands are very sterile, the upper parts, at a height of a thousand feet and upwards, possess a damp climate and a tolerably luxuriant vegetation. This is especially the case on the windward sides of the islands, which first receive and condense the moisture from the atmosphere.

Galápagos map

In the morning (17th,) we landed on Chatham Island, which, like the others, rises with a tame and rounded outline, interrupted only here and there by scattered hillocks—the remains of former craters. Nothing could be less inviting than the first appearance. A broken field of black basaltic lava is every where covered by a stunted brushwood, which shows little signs of life. The dry and parched surface, having been heated by the noon-day sun, gave to the air a close and sultry feeling, like that from a stove: we fancied even the bushes smelt unpleasantly. Although I diligently tried to collect as many plants as possible, I succeeded in getting only ten kinds; and such wretched-looking little weeds would have better become an arctic, than an equatorial Flora.

The thin woods, which cover the lower parts of all the islands, excepting where the lava has recently flowed, appear from a short distance quite leafless, like the deciduous trees of the northern hemispher in winter. It was some time before I discovered, that not only almost every plant was in full leaf, but that the greater number were in flower. After the period of heavy rains, the islands are said to appear for a short time partially green. The only other country, in which I have seen a vegetation with a character at all approaching this, is at the volcanic island of Fernando Noronha, placed in many respects under similar conditions.

The natural history of these islands is very remarkable: it seems to be a little world within itself; the greater number of its inhabitants, both vegetable and animal, being found nowhere else.

As I shall refer to this subject again, I will only here remark, as forming a striking character on first landing, that the birds are strangers to man. So tame and unsuspecting were they, that they did not even undersand what was meant by stones being thrown at them; and quite regardless of us, they approached so close that any number might have been killed with a stick.

In the morning (17th) we landed on Chatham Island, which, like the others, rises with a tame and rounded outline, broken here and there by scattered hillocks, the remains of former craters. Nothing could be less inviting than the first appearance. A broken field of black basaltic lava, thrown into the most rugged waves, and crossed by great fissures, is everywhere covered by stunted, sun-burnt brushwood, which shows little signs of life. The dry and parched surface, being heated by the noon-day sun, gave to the air a close and sultry feeling, like that from a stove: we fancied even that the bushes smelt unpleasantly. Although I diligently tried to collect as many plants as possible, I succeeded in getting very few; and such wretched-looking little weeds would have better become an arctic than an equatorial Flora. The brushwood appears, from a short distance, as leafless as our trees during winter; and it was some time before I discovered that not only almost every plant was now in full leaf, but that the greater number were in flower. The commonest bush is one of the Euphorbiaceae: an acacia and a great odd-looking cactus are the only trees which afford any shade. After the season of heavy rains, the islands are said to appear for a short time partially green. The volcanic island of Fernando Noronha, placed in many respects under nearly similar conditions, is the only other country where I have seen a vegetation at all like this of the Galapagos Islands.

The Beagle sailed round Chatham Island, and anchored in several bays. One night I slept on shore, on a part of the island where some black cones—the former chimneys of the subterranean heated fluids—were extaordinarily numerous. From one small eminence, I counted sixty of these truncated hillocks, which were all surmounted by a more or less perfect crater. The greater number consisted merely of a ring of red scoriae or slags, cemented together: and their height above the plain of lava, was not more than from fifty to a hundred feet. From their regular form, they gave to the country a workshop appearance, which strongly reminded me of those parts of Staffordshire, where the great iron-foundries are most numerous.

The Beagle sailed round Chatham Island, and anchored in several bays. One night I slept on shore on a part of the island, where black truncated cones were extraordinarily numerous: from one small eminence I counted sixty of them, all surmounted by craters more or less perfect. The greater number consisted merely of a ring of red scoriae or slags, cemented together: and their height above the plain of lava was not more than from fifty to a hundred feet; none had been very lately active. The entire surface of this part of the island seems to have been permeated, like a sieve, by the subterranean vapours: here and there the lava, whilst soft, has been blown into great bubbles; and in other parts, the tops of caverns similarly formed have fallen in, leaving circular pits with steep sides. From the regular form of the many craters, they gave to the country an artificial appearance, which vividly reminded me of those parts of Staffordshire, where the great iron-foundries are most numerous.

The age of the various beds of lava was distinctly marked by the comparative growth, or entire absense, of vegetation. Nothing can be imagined more rough and horrid than the surface of the more modern streams. These have been aptly compared to the sea petrified in its most boisterous moments: no sea, however, would present such irregular undulations, or would be traversed by such deep chasms. All the craters are in an extinct condition; and although the age of the different streams of lava could be so clearly distinguished, it is probable they have remained so for many centuries. There is no account in any of the old voyagers of any volcano on this island having been seen in activity; yet since the time of Dampier (1684), there must have been some increase in the quantity of vegetation, otherwise so accurate a person would not have expressed himself thus:—“Four or five of the easternmost islands§ are rocky, barren, and hilly, producing neither tree, herb, nor grass, but a few dildoe (cactus) trees, except by the sea-side”* This description is at present applicable only to the western islands, where the volcanic forces are in frequent activity.

§ “Eastermost are rocky …” in Dampier's Voyage.

* Dampier's Voyage, vol. i., p. 101.


The day, on which I visited the little craters, was glowing hot, and the scrambling over the rough surface, and through the intricate thickets, was very fatiguing; but I was well repaid by the Cyclopean scene. In my walk I met two large tortoises, each of which must have weighed at least two hundred pounds. One was eating a piece of cactus, and when I approached, it looked at me, and quietly walked away: the other gave a deep hiss and drew in its head. These huge reptiles, surrounded by the black lava, the leafless shrubs, and large cacti, appeared to my fancy like some antediluvian animals.

The day was glowing hot, and the scrambling over the rough surface and through the intricate thickets, was very fatiguing; but I was well repaid by the strange Cyclopean scene. As I was walking along I met two large tortoises, each of which must have weighed at least two hundred pounds: one was eating a piece of cactus, and as I approached, it stared at me and slowly walked away; the other gave a deep hiss, and drew in its head. These huge reptiles, surrounded by the black lava, the leafless shrubs, and large cacti, seemed to my fancy like some antediluvian animals. The few dull-coloured birds cared no more for me than they did for the great tortoises.

September 23D.—The Beagle proceeded to Charles Island. This archipelago has long been frequented, first by the Bucaniers, and latterly by whalers, but it is only within the last six years, that a small colony has been established on it. The inhabitants are between two and three hundred in number: they nearly all consist of people of colour, who have been banished for political crimes from the Republic of the Equator (Quito is the capital of this state) to which these islands belong. The settlement is placed about four and a half miles inland, and at an elevation probably of a thousand feet. In the first part of the road we passed through leafless thickets, as in Chatham Island. Higher up, the wood gradually became greener; and immediately we had crossed the ridge of the island, our bodies were cooled by the fine southerly trade-wind, and our senses refreshed by the sight of a green and thriving vegetation. The houses are irregularly scattered over a flat space of ground, which is cultivated with sweet potatoes and bananas. It will not easily be imagined how pleasant the sight of black mud was to us, after having been so long accustomed to the parched soil of Peru and northern Chile.

23rd.—The Beagle proceeded to Charles Island. This archipelago has long been frequented, first by the bucaniers, and latterly by whalers, but it is only within the last six years, that a small colony has been established here. The inhabitants are between two and three hundred in number; they are nearly all people of colour, who have been banished for political crimes from the Republic of the Equator, of which Quito is the capital. The settlement is placed about four and a half miles inland, and at a height probably of a thousand feet. In the first part of the road we passed through leafless thickets, as in Chatham Island. Higher up, the woods gradually became greener; and as soon as we crossed the ridge of the island, we were cooled by a fine southerly breeze, and our sight refreshed by a green and thriving vegetation. In this upper region coarse grasses and ferns abound; but there are no tree-ferns: I saw nowhere any member of the palm family, which is the more singular, as 360 miles northward, Cocos Island takes its name from the number of cocoa-nuts. The houses are irregularly scattered over a flat space of ground, which is cultivated with sweet potatoes and bananas. It will not easily be imagined how pleasant the sight of black mud was to us, after having been so long, accustomed to the parched soil of Peru and northern Chile.

The inhabitants, although complaining of poverty, gain, without much trouble, the means of subsistence from the fertile soil. In the woods there are many wild pigs and goats, but the main article of animal food is derived from the tortoise. Their numbers in this island have of course been greatly reduced, but the people yet reckon on two days' hunting supplying food for the rest of the week. It is said that formerly single vessels have taken away as many as seven hundred of these animals, and that the ship's company of a frigate some years since brought down two hundred tortoises to the beach in one day.

We staid at this island four days, during which time I collected many plants and birds. One morning I ascended the highest hill, which has an altitude of nearly 1800 feet. The summit consists of a broke-down crater, thickly clothed with coarse grass and brushwood. Even in this one island, I counted thirty-nine hills, each of which was terminated by a more or less perfect circular depression.

The inhabitants, although complaining of poverty, obtain, without much trouble, the means of subsistence. In the woods there are many wild pigs and goats; but the staple article of animal food is supplied by the tortoises. Their numbers have of course been greatly reduced in this island, but the people yet count on two days' hunting giving them food for the rest of the week. It is said that formerly single vessels have taken away as many as seven hundred, and that the ship's company of a frigate some years since brought down in one day two hundred tortoises to the beach.

September 29th.—We doubled the south-west extremity of Albemarle Island, and the next day were nearly becalmed between it and Narborough Island. Both are covered with immense deluges of black naked lava; which, having either flowed over the rims of the great caldrons, or having burst forth from the smaller orifices on the flanks, have in their descent spread over miles of the sea-coast. On both of these islands eruptions are known occaisionally to take place; and in Albemarle we saw a small jet of smoke curling from the summit of one of the more lofty craters. In the evening we anchored in Bank's Cove, in Albemarle Island.

When morning came, we found that the harbour in which we were at anchor was formed by a broken-down crater, composed of volcanic sandstone. After breakfast I went out walking. To the southward of this first crater, there was another of similar composition, and beautifully symmetrical. It was elliptic in form; the longer axis being less than a mile, and its depth about 500 feet. The bottom was occupied by a shallow lake, and in its centre a tiny crater formed an islet. The day was overpoweringly hot, and the lake looked clear and blue. I hurried down the cindery slope, and choked with dust eagerly tasted the water—but to my sorrow I found it salt as brine.

September 29th.—We doubled the south-west extremity of Albemarle Island, and the next day were nearly becalmed between it and Narborough Island. Both are covered with immense deluges of black naked lava, which have flowed either over the rims of the great caldrons, like pitch over the rim of a pot in which it has been boiled, or have burst forth from smaller orifices on the flanks; in their descent they have spread over miles of the sea-coast. On both of these islands, eruptions are known to have taken place; and in Albemarle, we saw a small jet of smoke curling from the summit of one of the great craters. In the evening we anchored in Bank's Cove, in Albemarle Island. The next morning I went out walking. To the south of the broken tuff-crater, in which the Beagle was anchored, there was another beautifully symmetrical one of an elliptic form; its longer axis was a little less than a mile, and its depth about 500 feet. At its bottom there was a shallow lake, in the middle of which a tiny crater formed an islet. The day was overpoweringly hot, and the lake looked clear and blue: I hurried down the cindery slope, and, choked with dust, eagerly tasted the water—but, to my sorrow, I found it salt as brine.

The rocks on the coast abounded with great black lizards, between three and four feet long; and on the hills, another species was equally common. We saw many of the latter, some clumsily running out of our way, and others shuffling into their burrows. I shall presently describe in more detail the habits of both these reptiles.

The rocks on the coast abounded with great black lizards, between three and four feet long; and on the hills, an ugly yellowish-brown species was equally common. We saw many of this latter kind, some clumsily running out of the way, and others shuffling into their burrows. I shall presently describe in more detail the habits of both these reptiles. The whole of this northern part of Albemarle Island is miserably sterile.

October 3D.—We sailed round the northern end of Albermarle [sic, Albemarle] Island. Nearly the whole of this side is covered with recent streams of dark-coloured lavas, and is studded with craters. I should think it would be difficult to find in any other part of the world, an island situated within the tropics, and of such considerable size (namely 75 miles long), so sterile and incapable of supporting life.


On the 8th we reached James Island.* Captain FitzRoy put Mr. Bynoe, myself, and three others on shore, leaving with us a tent and provisions, to wait there till the vessel returned from watering. This was an admirable plan for the collections, as we had an entire week of hard work. We found here a party of Spaniards, who had been sent from Charles Island to dry fish, and to salt tortoise-meat.

* Both Charles and James Islands take their names from the Stuarts. See Cowley's Voyage in 1684.

October 8th.—We arrived at James Island: this island, as well as Charles Island, were long since thus named after our kings of the Stuart line. Mr. Bynoe, myself, and our servants were left here for a week, with provisions and a tent, whilst the Beagle went for water. We found here a party of Spaniards, who had been sent from Charles Island to dry fish, and to salt tortoise-meat.

At the distance of about six miles, and at the height of nearly 2000 feet, the Spaniards had erected a hovel in which two men lived, who were employed in catching tortoises, whilst the others were fishing on the coast. I paid this party two visits, and slept there one night. In the same manner as in the other islands, the lower region is covered by nearly leafless bushes: but here many of them grow to the size of trees. I measured several which were two feet in diameter, and some even two feet nine inches. The upper region being kept damp, from the moisture of the condensed clouds, supports a green and flourishing vegetation. So damp was the ground, that there were large beds of a coarse carex, in which great numbers of a very small water-rail lived and bred. While staying in this upper region, we lived entirely upon tortoise-meat. The breastplate roasted (as the Gauchos do carne con cuero), with the flesh attached to it, is very good; and the young tortoises make excellent soup; but otherwise the meat to my taste is very indifferent.

About six miles inland, and at the height of nearly 2000 feet, a hovel had been built in which two men lived, who were employed in catching tortoises, whilst the others were fishing on the coast. I paid this party two visits, and slept there one night. As in the other islands, the lower region was covered by nearly leafless bushes, but the trees were here of a larger growth than elsewhere, several being two feet and some even two feet nine inches in diameter. The upper region being kept damp by the clouds, supports a green and flourishing vegetation. So damp was the ground, that there were large beds of a coarse cyperus, in which great numbers of a very small water-rail lived and bred. While staying in this upper region, we lived entirely upon tortoise-meat: the breast-plate roasted (as the Gauchos do carne con cuero), with the flesh on it, is very good; and the young tortoises make excellent soup; but otherwise the meat to my taste is indifferent.

During another day we accompanied a party of the Spaniards in their whale-boat to a salina, or lake from which salt is procured. After landing, we had a very rough walk over a rugged field of recent lava, which has almost surrounded a sandstone crater, at the bottom of which the salt-lake is situated. The water was only three or four inches deep, and rested on a layer of beautifully crystallized white salt. The lake was quite circular, and fringed with a border of brightly green succulent plants: the precipitous walls of the crater were also clothed with wood, so that the scene was both picturesque and curious. A few years since, the sailors belonging to a sealing-vessel murdered their captain in this quiet spot; and we saw his skull lying among the bushes.

One day we accompanied a party of the Spaniards in their whale-boat to a salina, or lake from which salt is procured. After landing, we had a very rough walk over a rugged field of recent lava, which has almost surrounded a tuff-crater, at the bottom of which the salt-lake lies. The water is only three or four inches deep, and rests on a layer of beautifully crystallized, white salt. The lake is quite circular, and is fringed with a border of bright green succulent plants; the almost precipitous walls of the crater are clothed with wood, so that the scene was altogether both picturesque and curious. A few years since, the sailors belonging to a sealing-vessel murdered their captain in this quiet spot; and we saw his skull lying among the bushes.

During the greater part of our week on shore, the sky was cloudless, and if the trade-wind failed for an hour, the heat became very oppressive. On two days, the thermometer within the tent stood for some hours at 93°; but in the open air, in the wind and sun, at only 85°. The sand was extremely hot; the thermometer placed in some of a brown colour immediately rose to 137°, and how much higher it would have risen, I do not know, for it was not graduated above that number. The black sand felt much hotter, so that even in thick boots it was quite disagreeable, on this account, to walk over it.

I will now offer a few general observations on the natural history of these islands. I endeavoured to make as nearly a perfect collection in every branch as time permitted. The plants have not yet been examined, but Professor Henslow, who has kindly undertaken the description of them, informs me that there are probably many new species, and perhaps even some new genera. They all have an extremely weedy character, and it would scarcely have been supposed, that they had grown at an inconsiderable elevation directly under the equator. In the lower and sterile parts, the bush, which from its minute brown leaves chiefly gives the leafless appearance to the brushwood, is one of the Euphorbiaceæ. In the same region an acacia and a cactus (Opuntia Galapageia*), with large oval compressed articulations, springing from a cylindrical stem, are in some parts comon. These are the only trees which in that part afford any shade. Near the summits of the different islands, the vegetation has a very different character; ferns and coarse grasses are abundant; and the commonest tree is one of the Compositæ. Tree-ferns are not present. One of the most singular characters of the Flora, considering the position of this archipelago, is the absence of every member of the palm family. Cocos Island, on the other hand, which is the nearest point of land, takes its name from the great number of cocoa-nut trees on it. From the presence of the Opuntias and some other plants, the vegetation partakes more of the character of that of America than of any other country.

* Magazine of Zoology and Botany, vol. i., p. 466.


The natural history of these islands is eminently curious, and well deserves attention. Most of the organic productions are aboriginal creations, found nowhere else; there is even a difference between the inhabitants of the different islands; yet all show a marked relationship with those of America, though separated from that continent by an open space of ocean, between 500 and 600 miles in width. The archipelago is a little world within itself, or rather a satellite attached to America, whence it has derived a few stray colonists, and has received the general character of its indigenous productions.

Considering the small size of the islands, we feel the more astonished at the number of their aboriginal beings, and at their confined range. Seeing every height crowned with its crater, and the boundaries of most of the lava-streams still distinct, we are led to believe that within a period geologically recent the unbroken ocean was here spread out. Hence, both in space and time, we seem to be brought somewhat near to that great fact—that mystery of mysteries—the first appearance of new beings on this earth.

Of mammalia a large kind of mouse forms a well-marked species. From its large thin ears, and other characters, it approaches in form a section of the genus, which is confined to the sterile regions of South America. There is also a rat which Mr. Waterhouse believes is probably distinct from the English kind; but I cannot help suspecting that it is only the same altered by the peculiar conditions of its new country.

Of terrestrial mammals, there is only one which must be considered as indigenous, namely, a mouse (Mus Galapagoensis), and this is confined, as far as I could ascertain, to Chatham Island, the most easterly island of the group. It belongs, as I am informed by Mr. Waterhouse, to a division of the family of mice characteristic of America. At James Island, there is a rat sufficiently distinct from the common kind to have been named and described by Mr. Waterhouse; but as it belongs to the old-world division of the family, and as this island has been frequented by ships for the last hundred and fifty years, I can hardly doubt that this rat is merely a variety produced by the new and peculiar climate, food, and soil, to which it has been subjected. Although no one has a right to speculate without distinct facts, yet even with respect to the Chatham Island mouse, it should be borne in mind, that it may possibly be an American species imported here; for I have seen, in a most unfrequented part of the Pampas, a native mouse living in the roof of a newly built hovel, and therefore its transportation in a vessel is not improbable: analogous facts have been observed by Dr. Richardson in North America.

In my collections from these islands, Mr. Gould considers that there are twenty-six different species of land birds. With the exception of one, all probably are undescribed kinds, which inhabit this archipelago, and no other part of the world. Among the waders and waterfowl it is more difficult, without detailed comparison, to say what are new. But a water-sail which lives near the summits of the mountains, is undescribed, as perhaps is a Totanus and a heron. The only kind of gull which is found among these islands, is also new; when the wandering habits of this genus are considered, this is a very remarkable circumstance. The species most closely allied to it, comes from the Strait of Magellan. Of the other aquatic birds, the species appear the same with well-known American birds.

The general character of the plumage of these birds is extremely plain, and like the flora possesses little beauty. Although the species are thus peculiar to the archipelago, yet nearly all in their general structure, habits, colour of feathers, and even tone of voice, are strictly American.

Of land-birds I obtained twenty-six kinds, all peculiar to the group and found nowhere else, with the exception of one lark-like finch from North America (Dolichonyx oryzivorus), which ranges on that continent as far north as 54°, and generally frequents marshes.

The following brief list will give an idea of their kinds. 1st. A buzzard, having many of the characters of Polyborus or Caracara; and in its habits not to be distinguished from that peculiar South American genus;

The other twenty-five birds consist, firstly, of a hawk, curiously intermediate in structure between a buzzard and the American group of carrion-feeding Polybori; and with these latter birds it agrees most closely in every habit and even tone of voice.

2d. Two owls;

Secondly, there are two owls, representing the short-eared and white barn-owls of Europe.

3d. Three species of tyrant-flycatchers―a form strictly American. One of these appears identical with a common kind (Muscicapa coronata? Lath.), which has a very wide range, from La Plata throughout Brazil to Mexico;

Thirdly, a wren, three tyrant-flycatchers (two of them species of Pyrocephalus, one or both of which would be ranked by some ornithologists as only varieties), and a dove—all analogous to, but distinct from, American species.

4th. A sylvicola, an American form, and especially common in the northern division of the continent;

Fourthly, a swallow, which though differing from the Progne purpurea of both Americas, only in being rather duller colored, smaller, and slenderer, is considered by Mr. Gould as specifically distinct.

5th. Three species of mocking-birds, a genus common to both Americas;

Fifthly, there are three species of mocking thrush—a form highly characteristic of America.

6th. A finch, with a stiff tail and a long claw to its hinder toe, closely allied to a North American genus;

7th. A swallow belonging to the American division of that genus;

8th. A dove, like, but distinct from, the Chilian species;

9th. A group of finches, of which Mr. Gould considers there are thirteen species; and these he has distributed into four new sub-genera. These birds are the most singular of any in the archipelago. They all agree in many points; namely, in a peculiar structure of their bill, short tails, general form, and in their plumage. The females are gray or brown, but the old cocks jet-black. All the species, excepting two, feed in flocks on the ground, and have very similar habits. It is very remarkable that a nearly perfect gradation of structure in this one group can be traced in the form of the beak, from one exceeding in dimensions that of the largest gross-beak, to another differing but little from that of a warbler. Of the aquatic birds I have already remarked that some are peculiar to these islands, and some common to North and South America.

Addendum to Page 461: The sixth bird, mentioned as an inhabitant of the Galapagos, Mr. Gould now finds is not like the rest, peculiar to these islands, but is a known North American species of Ammodramus.

The remaining land-birds form a most singular group of finches, related to each other in the structure of their beaks, short tails, form of body and plumage: there are thirteen species, which Mr. Gould has divided into four subgroups. All these species are peculiar to this archipelago; and so is the whole group, with the exception of one species of the sub-group Cactornis, lately brought from Bow Island, in the Low Archipelago. Of Cactornis, the two species may be often seen climbing about the flowers of the great cactus-trees; but all the other species of this group of finches, mingled together in flocks, feed on the dry and sterile ground of the lower districts. The males of all, or certainly of the greater number, are jet black; and the females (with perhaps one or two exceptions) are brown. The most curious fact is the perfect gradation in the size of the beaks in the different species of Geospiza, from one as large as that of a hawfinch to that of a chaffinch, and (if Mr. Gould is right in including his sub-group, Certhidea, in the main group) even to that of a warbler. The largest beak in the genus Geospiza is shown in Fig. 1, and the smallest in Fig. 3; but instead of there being only one intermediate species, with a beak of the size shown in Fig. 2, there are no less than six species with insensibly graduated beaks. The beak of the sub-group Certhidea, is shown in Fig. 4. The beak of Cactornis is somewhat like that of a starling, and that of the fourth subgroup, Camarhynchus, is slightly parrot-shaped. Seeing this gradation and diversity of structure in one small, intimately related group of birds, one might really fancy that from an original paucity of birds in this archipelago, one species had been taken and modified for different ends. In a like manner it might be fancied that a bird originally a buzzard, had been induced here to undertake the office of the carrion-feeding Polybori of the American continent.


Of waders and water-birds I was able to get only eleven kinds, and of these only three (including a rail confined to the damp summits of the islands) are new species. Considering the wandering habits of the gulls, I was surprised to find that the species inhabiting these islands is peculiar, but allied to one from the southern parts of South America. The far greater peculiarity of the land-birds, namely, twenty-five out of twenty-six, being new species, or at least new races, compared with the waders and web-footed birds, is in accordance with the greater range which these latter orders have in all parts of the world. We shall hereafter see this law of aquatic forms, whether marine or freshwater, being less peculiar at any given point of the earth's surface than the terrestrial forms of the same classes, strikingly illustrated in the shells, and in a lesser degree in the insects of this archipelago.

Two of the waders are rather smaller than the same species brought from other places: the swallow is also smaller, though it is doubtful whether or not it is distinct from its analogue. The two owls, the two tyrant-catchers (Pyrocephalus) and the dove, are also smaller than the analogous but distinct species, to which they are most nearly related; on the other hand, the gull is rather larger. The two owls, the swallow, all three species of mocking-thrush, the dove in its separate colours though not in its whole plumage, the Totanus, and the gull, are likewise duskier coloured than their analogous species; and in the case of the mocking-thrush and Totanus, than any other species of the two genera. With the exception of a wren with a fine yellow breast, and of a tyrant-flycatcher with a scarlet tuft and breast, none of the birds are brilliantly coloured, as might have been expected in an equatorial district. Hence it would appear probable, that the same causes which here make the immigrants of some peculiar species smaller, make most of the peculiar Galapageian species also smaller, as well as very generally more dusky coloured. All the plants have a wretched, weedy appearance, and I did not see one beautiful flower. The insects, again, are small-sized and dull-coloured, and, as Mr. Waterhouse informs me, there is nothing in their general appearance which would have led him to imagine that they had come from under the equator. The birds, plants, and insects have a desert character, and are not more brilliantly coloured than those from southern Patagonia; we may, therefore, conclude that the usual gaudy colouring of the inter-tropical productions, is not related either to the heat or light of those zones, but to some other cause, perhaps to the conditions of existence being generally favourable to life.

We will now turn to the order of reptiles, which forms, perhaps, the most striking feature in the zoology of these islands. The species are not numerous, but the number of individuals of each kind, is extraordinarily great. There is one kind both of the turtle and tortoise; of lizards four; and of snakes about the same number.

We will now turn to the order of reptiles, which gives the most striking character to the zoology of these islands. The species are not numerous, but the numbers of individuals of each species are extraordinarily great. There is one small lizard belonging to a South American genus, and two species (and probably more) of the Amblyrhynchus—a genus confined to the Galapagos Islands. There is one snake which is numerous; it is identical, as I am informed by M. Bibron, with the Psammophis Temminckii from Chile.* Of sea-turtle I believe there are more than one species, and of tortoises there are, as we shall presently show, two or three species or races. Of toads and frogs there are none: I was surprised at this, considering how well suited for them the temperate and damp upper woods appeared to be. It recalled to my mind the remark made by Bory St. Vincent,† namely, that none of this family are found on any of the volcanic islands in the great oceans. As far as I can ascertain from various works, this seems to hold good throughout the Pacific, and even in the large islands of the Sandwich archipelago. Mauritius offers an apparent exception, where I saw the Rana Mascariensis in abundance: this frog is said now to inhabit the Seychelles, Madagascar, and Bourbon; but on the other hand, Du Bois, in his voyage in 1669, states that there were no reptiles in Bourbon except tortoises; and the Officier du Roi asserts that before 1768 it had been attempted, without success, to introduce frogs into Mauritius—I presume for the purpose of eating: hence it may be well doubted whether this frog is an aboriginal of these islands. The absence of the frog family in the oceanic islands is the more remarkable, when contrasted with the case of lizards, which swarm on most of the smallest islands. May this difference not be caused, by the greater facility with which the eggs of lizards, protected by calcareous shells might be transported through salt-water, than could the slimy spawn of frogs?

* This is stated by Dr. Günther (Zoolog. Soc., Jan. 24th, 1859) to be a peculiar species, not known to inhabit any other country.

Voyage aux Quatre Iles d'Afrique. With respect to the Sandwich Islands, see Tyerman and Bennett's Journal, vol. i. p. 434. For Mauritius, see Voyage par un Officier, etc., part i. p. 170. There are no frogs in the Canary Islands (Webb et Berthelot, Hist. Nat. des Iles Canaries). I saw none at St. Jago in the Cape de Verds. There are none at St. Helena.

I will first describe the habits of the tortoise (Testudo Indicus), which has been so frequently alluded to. These animals are found, I believe, in all the islands of the archipelago; certainly in the greater number. They frequent in preference the high damp parts, but likewise inhabit the lower and arid districts. I have already mentioned* proofs, from the numbers which have been taken in a single day, how very numerous they must be. Some individuals grow to an immense size: Mr. Lawson, an Englishman, § who had at the time of our visit charge of the colony, told us that he had seen several so large, that it required six or eight men to lift them from the ground; and that some had afforded as much as two hundred pounds of meat. The old males are the largest, the females rarely growing to so great a size. The male can readily be distinguished from the female by the greater length of its tail. The tortoises which live on those islands where there is no water, or in the lower and arid parts of the others, chiefly feed on the succulent cactus. Those which frequent the higher and damp regions, eat the leaves of various trees, a kind of berry (called guayavita) which is acid and austere, and likewise a pale green filamentous lichen, that hangs in tresses from the boughs of the trees.

* Dampier says, “The land-turtles [sic, The Land Turtle (actually, tortoise)] are here so numerous, that five or six hundred [sic, 5 or 600] men might subsist on them for several months without any other sort of provisions [sic, Provision]. There are so extraordinarily large and fat, and so sweet, that no pullet eats more pleasantly.”―Vol. i., p. 110 [sic, pp. 101-02].

I will first describe the habits of the tortoise (Testudo nigra, formerly called Indica), which has been so frequently alluded to. These animals are found, I believe, on all the islands of the archipelago; certainly on the greater number. They frequent in preference the high damp parts, but they likewise live in the lower and arid districts. I have already shown, from the numbers which have been caught in a single day, how very numerous they must be. Some grow to an immense size: Mr. Lawson, an Englishman,§ and vice-governor of the colony, told us that he had seen several so large, that it required six or eight men to lift them from the ground; and that some had afforded as much as two hundred pounds of meat. The old males are the largest, the females rarely growing to so great a size: the male can readily be distinguished from the female by the greater length of its tail. The tortoises which live on those islands where there is no water, or in the lower and arid parts of the others, feed chiefly on the succulent cactus. Those which frequent the higher and damp regions, eat the leaves of various trees, a kind of berry (called guayavita) which is acid and austere, and likewise a pale green filamentous lichen (Usnera plicata), that hangs from the boughs of the trees.

§ In his The Seven-Year Search for Nicholas O. Lawson, Dr. Marcel Nordlohne offers evidence that Lawson was in fact Norwegian.

The tortoise is very fond of water, drinking large quantities, and wallowing in the mud. The larger islands alone possess springs, and these are always situated towards the central parts, and at a considerable elevation. The tortoises, therefore, which frequent the lower districts, when thirsty, are obliged to travel from a long distance. Hence broad and well-beaten paths radiate off in every direction from the wells even down to the sea-coast; and the Spaniards by following them up, first discovered the watering-places. When I landed at Chatham Island, I could not imagine what animal travelled so methodically along the well-chosen tracks. Near the springs it was a curious spectacle to behold many of these {great monsters}/{huge creatures}, one set eagerly travelling onwards with outstretched necks, and another set returning, after having drunk their fill. When the tortoise arrives at the spring, quite regardless of any spectator, it buries its head in the water above its, and greedily swallows great mouthfuls, at the rate of about ten in a minute. The inhabitants say each animal stays three or four days in the neighbourhood of the water, and then returns to the lower country; but they differed respecting the frequency of these visits. The animal probably regulates them according to the nature of the food {which it has consumed}/{on which it has lived}. It is, however, certain, that tortoises can subsist even on those islands where there is no other water, than what falls during a few rainy days in the year.

I believe it is well ascertained, that the bladder of the frog acts as a reservoir for the moisture necessary to its existence: such seems to be the case with the tortoise. For some time after a visit to the springs, the urinary {bladder of these animals is}/{bladders are} distended with fluid, which is said gradually to decrease in volume, and to become less pure. The inhabitants, when walking in the lower district, and overcome with thirst, often take advantage of this circumstance, {by killing a tortoise, and if the bladder is full, drinking its contents.}/{and drink the contents of the bladder if full:} In one I saw killed, the fluid was quite limpid, and had only a very slightly bitter taste. The inhabitants, however, always drink first the water in the pericardium, which is described as being best.

The tortoises, when ~/purposely moving towards any point, travel by night and day, and arrive at their journey's end much sooner than would be expected. The inhabitants, from {observations on}/{observing} marked individuals, consider that they can move/travel a distance of about eight miles in two or three days. One large tortoise, which I watched, walked at the rate of sixty yards in ten minutes, that is 360 in the hour, or four miles a day,—allowing also a little time for it to eat on the road.

During the breeding season, when the male and female are together, the male utters a hoarse roar or bellowing, which it is said, can be heard at the distance of more than a hundred yards. The female never uses her voice, and the male only at such times; so that when the people hear this noise, they know the two are together. They were at this time (October) laying their eggs. The female, where the soil is sandy, deposits them together, and covers them up with sand; but where the ground is rocky she drops them indiscriminately in any hollow. Mr. Bynoe found seven placed in {a line in}/~ a fissure. The egg is white and spherical; one which I measured was seven inches and three-eighths in circumference. The young animals, as soon as they are hatched, fall a prey in great numbers to the {buzzard, with the habits of the Caracara}/{carrion-feeding buzzard}. The old ones seem generally to die from accidents, as from falling down precipices. At least several of the inhabitants told me, that they never found one dead without some evident cause.

The inhabitants believe that these animals are absolutely deaf; certainly they do not overhear a person walking close behind them. I was always amused, when overtaking one of these great monsters, as it was quietly pacing along, to see how suddenly, the instant I passed, it would draw in its head and legs, and uttering a deep hiss fall to the ground with a heavy sound, as if struck dead. I frequently got on their backs, and then giving a few raps on the hinder part of {the shell}/{their shells}, they would rise up and walk away;—but I found it very difficult to keep my balance.

The flesh of this animal is largely employed, both fresh and salted; and a beautifully clear oil is prepared from the fat. When a tortoise is caught, the man makes a slit in the skin near its tail, so as to see inside its body, whether the fat under the dorsal plate is thick. If it is not, the animal is liberated and it is said to recover soon from this strange operation. In order to secure the tortoise, it is not sufficient to turn them like turtle, for they are often able to {regain their upright position}/{get on their legs again}.

It was confidently asserted, that the tortoises coming from different islands in the archipelago were slightly different in form; and that in certain islands they attained a larger average size than in others. Mr. Lawson maintained that he could at once tell from which island any one was brought.§ Unfortunately, the specimens which came home in the Beagle were too small to institute any certain comparison. This tortoise, which goes by the name of Testudo Indicus, is at present found in many parts of the world.

§ Darwin at first paid little attention to Lawson's remark, but later realized its importance, as noted by the expanded coverage in his 1845 edition.


It is the opinion of Mr. Bell, and some others who have studied reptiles, that it is not improbable that they all originally came from this archipelago. When it is known how long these islands have been frequented by the bucaniers, and that they constantly took away numbers of these creatures alive, it seems very probable that they should have distributed them in different parts of the world. If this tortoise does not originally come from these islands, it is a remarkable anomaly; inasmuch as nearly all the other land inhabitants seem to have had their birthplace here.

Addendum to Page 465: I have given my reason for believing that the Testudo, inappropriately called Indicus, is an aboriginal species of the Galapagos. I now find (Kerr's Voyages, vol. x., p. 373) that as far back as 1708, Woods, Rogers, and Courtney, in their voyage round the world, speaking of the tortoises of these islands, say that it is the opinion of the Spaniards that there is no other in these seas, except at the Galapagos: it is, however, then added, that they are common in Brazil,—a mistake which may be attributed to two different species not having been distinguished. It has been said that the bones of Testudo Indicus were found in numbers in the Isle of France, with some fragments of those of the Dodo; but M. Bibron—one of the best authorities in Europe on reptiles—informs me that he has reason to believe that a second species has been confounded under this name.

In the same page I remark that there is every reason for believing that several of the islands possess their own peculiar varieties or species of tortoise, but that my specimens were too small to decide this question. M. Bibron now informs me, that he has seen full-grown animals, brought from this Archipelago, which he considers undoubtedly to be distinct species. At p. 467, I have observed that the specimens of the Amblyrhyncus cristatus—that extraordinary marine herbivorous lizard—were larger from Albemarle, than from any other island. In this case, also, M. Bibron tells me, he has seen what he considers two species of the aquatic Amblyrhyncus, besides the terrestrial species. Doubtless the several islands have their own representatives of the Amblyrhyncus, like they have of some of the birds, and of the tortoises. With respect to the plants from this Archipelago, Professor Henslow writes to me, that although he has not yet examined them attentively, he finds that “there are several instances of distinct species of the same genus, sent from one island only: that is, whilst the genus is common to two or three islands, the species are often different in the different islands. In some cases the species seem to run very close to each other, but are, I believe, distinct.” I may observe that, from my ignorance of botany, I collected more blindly in this department of natural history than in any other; so that certainly it was not intentionally that I brought the different species from different islands. If, indeed, I at all noticed their resemblance, I probably collected the second and third species as duplicate specimens of the first. It is useless to repeat here my regrets at not having procured a perfect series in every order of nature from the several islands: my excuse must be, the entire novelty of the fact, that islands in sight of each other should be characterized by peculiar faunas: I ought, perhaps, rather to think it fortunate, that sufficient materials were obtained to establish so remarkable a circumstance in the geographical distribution of organic beings, although they are insufficient to determine to what extent the fact holds good.

There can be little doubt that this tortoise is an aboriginal inhabitant of the Galapagos; for it is found on all, or nearly all, the islands, even on some of the smaller ones where there is no water; had it been an imported species, this would hardly have been the case in a group which has been so little frequented. Moreover, the old Bucaniers found this tortoise in greater numbers even than at present: Wood and Rogers also, in 1708, say that it is the opinion of the Spaniards, that it is found nowhere else in this quarter of the world. It is now widely distributed; but it may be questioned whether it is in any other place an aboriginal. The bones of a tortoise at Mauritius, associated with those of the extinct Dodo, have generally been considered as belonging to this tortoise; if this had been so, undoubtedly it must have been there indigenous; but M. Bibron informs me that he believes that it was distinct, as the species now living there certainly is.

Of lizards there are four or five species; two probably belong to the South American genus Leiocephalus, and two to Amblyrhyncus. This remarkable genus was characterized by Mr. Bell,* from a stuffed specimen sent from Mexico, but which I conceive there can be little doubt originally came through some whaling ship from these islands. The two species agree pretty closely in general appearance; but one is aquatic and the other terrestrial in its habits. Mr. Bell thus concludes his description of Amb. cristatus; “On a comparison of this animal with the true Iguanas, the most striking and important discrepancy is in the form of the head. Instead of the long, pointed, narrow muzzle of those species, we have here a short, obtusely truncated head, not so long as it is broad, the mouth consequently only capable of being opened to a very short space. These circumstances, with the shortness and equality of the toes, and the strength and curvature of the claws, evidently indicate some striking peculiarity in its food and general habits, on which, however, in the absence of all certain information, I shall abstain from offering any conjecture.” The following account of these two lizards, will, I think, show with what judgment Mr. Bell foresaw a variation in habit, accompanying change in structure.

* Zoological Journal, July, 1835 [sic, 1825].

The Amblyrhynchus, a remarkable genus of lizards, is confined to this archipelago; there are two species, resembling each other in general form, one being terrestrial and the other aquatic. This latter species (A. cristatus) was first characterized by Mr. Bell, § who well foresaw, from its short, broad head, and strong claws of equal length, that its habits of life would turn out very peculiar, and different from those of its nearest ally, the Iguana.

§ A. cristatus illustration added, but citation omitted. (See Zoological Journal citation in adjacent column.)

First for the aquatic kind (Amb. cristatus). This lizard is extremely common on all the islands throughout the Archipelago. It lives exclusively on the rocky sea-beaches, and is never found, at least I never saw one, even ten yards inshore. It is a hideous-looking creature, of a dirty black colour, stupid and sluggish in its movements. The usual length of a full-grown one is about a yard, but there are some even four feet long: I have seen a large one which weighed twenty pounds. On the island of Albemarle they seem to grow to a greater size than on any other. These lizards were occasionally seen some hundred yards from the shore swimming about; and Captain Collnett, [sic, Colnett] in his Voyage, says, “they go out to sea in shoals to fish.” § With respect to the object, I believe he is mistaken; but the fact stated on such good authority cannot be doubted.

It is extremely common on all the islands throughout the group, and lives exclusively on the rocky sea-beaches, being never found, at least I never saw one, even ten yards in-shore. It is a hideous-looking creature, of a dirty black colour, stupid, and sluggish in its movements. The usual length of a full-grown one is about a yard, but there are some even four feet long; a large one weighed twenty pounds: on the island of Albemarle they seem to grow to a greater size than elsewhere. Their tails are flattened sideways, and all four feet partially webbed. They are occasionally seen some hundred yards from the shore, swimming about; and Captain Collnett, in his Voyage says, “They go to sea in herds a-fishing, and sun themselves on the rocks; and may be called alligators in miniature.” § It must not, however, be supposed that they live on fish.

§ Colnett's actual text appears as a footnote: “The sea guana is a non descript: it is less than the land guana and much uglier, they go to sea in herds a-fishing, and sun themselves on the rocks like seals, and may be called alligators in miniature.” [p. 56]

When in the water {the animal}/{this lizard} swims with perfect ease and quickness, by a serpentine movement of its body and flattened tail,—the legs, during this time, being motionless and closely collapsed on its sides. A seaman on board sank one, with a heavy weight attached to it, thinking thus to kill it directly; but when an hour afterwards he drew up the line, the lizard was quite active. Their limbs and strong claws are admirably adapted for crawling over the rugged and fissured masses of lava, which every where form the coast. In such situations, a group of six or seven of these hideous reptiles may oftentimes be seen on the black rocks, a few feet above the surf, basking in the sun with outstretched legs.

I opened the stomachs of several [marine iguanas], and {in each case found it}/{found them} largely distended with minced sea-weed {, of that kind}/(Ulvæ) which grows in thin foliaceous expansions of a bright green or dull red colour. I do not recollect having observed this sea-weed in any quantity on the tidal rocks; and I have reason to believe it grows at the bottom of the sea, at some little distance from the coast. If such is the case, the object of these animals occasionally going out to sea is explained. The stomach contained nothing but the sea-weed. Mr. Bynoe, however, found a piece of crab in one; but this might have got in accidentally, in the same manner as I have seen a caterpillar, in the midst of some lichen, in the paunch of a tortoise. The intestines were large, as in other herbivorous animals.

The nature of this lizard's food, as well as the structure of its tail, and the certain fact of its having been seen voluntarily swimming out at sea, absolutely prove its aquatic habits; yet there is in this respect one strange anomaly; namely, that when frightened it will not enter the water. {From this cause,}/{Hence} it is easy to drive these lizards down to any little point overhanging the sea, where they will sooner allow a person to catch hold of their tails than jump into the water. They do not seem to have any notion of biting; but when much frightened they squirt a drop of fluid from each nostril. {One day I carried one to a deep pool left by the retiring tide, and threw it in several times as far as I was able. It}/{I threw one several times as far as I could, into a deep pool left by the retiring tide; but it} invariably returned in a direct line to the spot where I stood. It swam near the bottom, with a very graceful and rapid movement, and occasionally aided itself over the uneven ground with its feet. As soon as it arrived near the margin/edge, but still being under water, it either/~ tried to conceal itself in the tufts of sea-weed, or it entered some crevice. As soon as it thought the danger was past, it crawled out on the dry rocks, and shuffled away as quickly as it could. I several times caught this same lizard, by driving it down to a point, and though possessed of such perfect powers of diving and swimming, nothing would induce it to enter the water; and as often as I threw it in, it returned in the manner above described. Perhaps this singular piece of apparent stupidity may be accounted for by the circumstance, that this reptile has no enemy whatever on shore, whereas at sea it must often fall a prey to the numerous sharks. Hence, probably urged by a fixed and hereditary instinct that the shore is its place of safety, whatever the emergency may be, it there takes refuge.

During our visit (in October), I saw extremely few small individuals of this species, and none I should think under a year old. From this circumstance it seems probable that the breeding season had not then commenced. I asked several of the inhabitants if they knew where it laid its eggs:

they said although well acquainted with the eggs of the other kind, they had not the least knowledge of the manner in which this species is propagated—a fact, considering how very common this lizard is, not a little extraordinary.

they said that they knew nothing of its propagation, although well acquainted with the eggs of the land kind—a fact, considering how very common this lizard is, not a little extraordinary.

We will now turn to the terrestrial species (Amb. sub-cristatus of Gray).* This species, differently from the last, is confined to the central islands of the Archipelago, namely to Albemarle, James, Barrington, and Indefatigable. To the southward, in Charles, Hood, and Chatham islands, and to the northward, in Towers, Bindloes, and Abingdon, I neither saw nor heard of any.§ It would appear as if this species had been created in the centre of the Archipelago, and thence had been dispersed only to a certain distance.

We will now turn to the terrestrial species (A. Demarlii), with a round tail, and toes without webs. This lizard, instead of being found like the other on all the islands, is confined to the central part of the archipelago, namely to Albemarle, James, Barrington, and Indefatigable islands. To the southward, in Charles, Hood, and Chatham islands, and to the northward, in Towers, Bindloes, and Abingdon, I neither saw nor heard of any.§ It would appear as if it had been created in the centre of the archipelago, and thence had been dispersed only to a certain distance.

* Briefly characterized by Mr. Gray in the Zoological Miscellany, from a specimen badly stuffed; from which cause one of its most important characters (the rounded tail, compared to the flattened one of the aquatic kind) was overlooked. Captain FitzRoy has presented some fine specimens of both species to the British Museum. I cannot omit here returning my thanks to Mr. Gray, for the kind manner in which he has afforded me every facility as often as I have visited the British Museum.


§ Darwin visited only those four islands shown above in boldface font. So his “I neither saw nor heard of any” remark, pertaining to land iguanas on the other islands that he mentions is odd: he obviously would not have seen iguanas (or anything else) on islands he did not visit.

In the central islands they inhabit both the higher and damp, as well as the lower and sterile parts; but in the latter they are much more numerous.

Some of these lizards inhabit the high and damp parts of the islands, but they are much more numerous in the lower and sterile districts near the coast.

I cannot give a more forcible proof of their numbers, than by stating, that when we were left at James Island, we could not for some time find a spot free from their burrows, on which to pitch our ~/single tent.

These lizards, like their brothers the sea-kind, are ugly animals; and from their low facial angle have a singularly stupid appearance. In size perhaps they are a little inferior to the latter, but several of them weighed between ten and fifteen pounds each. The colour of their belly, front legs, and head (excepting the crown which is nearly white), is a dirty yellowish-orange: the back is a brownish-red, which in the younger specimens is darker.

Like their brothers the sea-kind, they are ugly animals, of a yellowish orange beneath, and of a brownish red colour above: from their low facial angle they have a singularly stupid appearance. They are, perhaps, of a rather less size than the marine species; but several of them weighed between ten and fifteen pounds.

In their movements they are lazy and half torpid. When not frightened, they slowly crawl along with their tails and bellies dragging on the ground. They often stop, and doze for a minute ~/{or two} with closed eyes, and hind legs spread out on the parched soil.

They inhabit burrows; which they sometimes excavate between fragments of lava, but more generally on level patches of the soft {volcanic sandstone}/{sandstone-like tuff}. The holes do not appear to be very deep, and they enter the ground at a small angle; so that when walking over these lizard warrens, the soil is constantly giving way, much to the annoyance of the tired walker. This animal when excavating/making its burrow, {alternately works}/{works alternately} the opposite sides of its body. One front leg for a short time scratches up the soil, and throws it towards the hind foot, which is well placed so as to heave it beyond the mouth of the hole. That side of the body being tired, the other takes up the task, and so on alternately. I watched one for a long time, till half its body was buried; I then walked up and pulled it by the tail; at this it was greatly astonished, and soon shuffled up to see what was the matter; and then stared me in the face, as much as to say, “What made you pull my tail?”

They feed by day, and do not wander far from their burrows; and if frightened they rush to them with a most awkward gait. Except when running down hill, they cannot move very fast; {which appears chiefly owing to}/{apparently from the} the lateral position of their legs. They are not at all timorous: when attentively watching any one, they curl their tails, and raising themselves on their front legs, nod their heads vertically, with a quick movement, and try to look very fierce; but in reality they are not at all so; if one just stamps the ground, down go their tails, and off they shuffle as quickly as they can. I have frequently observed small muscivorous/{fly-eating} lizards, when watching any thing, nod their heads in precisely the same manner; but I do not at all know for what purpose. If this Amblyrhynchus is held, and plagued with a stick, it will bite it very severely; but I caught many by the tail, and they never tried to bite me. If two are placed on the ground and held together, they will fight, and bite each other till blood is drawn.

The individuals (and they are the greater number) which inhabit the lower country, can scarcely taste a drop of water throughout the year; but they consume much of the succulent cactus, the branches of which are occasionally broken off by the wind. I have sometimes thrown a piece to two or three of them when together; and it was amusing enough to see each trying to seize and carry it away in its mouth, like so many hungry dogs with a bone. They eat very deliberately, but do not chew their food. The little birds are aware how harmless these creatures are: I have seen one of the thick-billed finches picking at one end of a piece of cactus (which is in request among all the animals of the lower region), whilst a lizard was eating at the other; and afterwards the little bird with the utmost indifference hopped on the back of the reptile.

I opened the stomachs of several [land iguanas], and found them full of vegetable fibres, and leaves of different trees, especially of a species of acacia. In the upper region they live chiefly on the acid and astringent berries of the guayavita, under which trees I have seen these lizards and the huge tortoises feeding together. To obtain the acacia-leaves, they crawl up the low stunted trees; and it is not uncommon to see one or a pair quietly browsing, whilst seated on a branch several feet above the ground.

The meat of these animals when cooked is white, and by those whose stomachs rise above all prejudices, it is relished as very good food.

These lizards, when cooked, yield a white meat, which is liked by those whose stomachs soar above all prejudices.

Humboldt has remarked that in intertropical South America, all lizards which inhabit dry regions are esteemed delicacies for the table. The inhabitants say/state, that those inhabiting the damp regions drink water, but that the others do not ~/{, like the tortoises} travel up for it from the lower sterile country {like the tortoises}—. At the time of our visit, the females had within their bodies numerous large elongated eggs. These they lay in their burrows, and the inhabitants seek them for food.

These two species of Amblyrhynchus agree, as I have already stated, in general structure, and in many of their habits. Neither have that rapid movement, so characteristic of Lacerta and Iguana. They are both herbivorous, although the kind of vegetation consumed in each case is so very different. Mr. Bell has given the name to the genus from the shortness of the snout: indeed, the form of the mouth may almost be compared to that of the tortoise. One is tempted to suppose this is an adaptation to their herbivorous appetites. It is very interesting thus to find a well-characterized genus, having its aquatoc and terrestrial species, belonging to so confined a portion of the world. The former/aquatic species is by far the most remarkable, because it is the only existing {Saurian, which can properly be said to be a maritime animal.}/{lizard which lives on marine vegetable productions.}

I should perhaps have mentioned earlier, that in the whole archipelago, there is only one rill of fresh water that reaches the coast; yet these reptiles frequent the sea-beaches, and no other parts in all the islands. Moreover, there is no existing lizard, as far as I am aware, excepting this Amblyrhyncus, that feeds exclusively on aquatic productions. If, however, we refer to epochs long past, we shall find such habits common to several givantic animals of the Suarian race.

To conclude with the order of reptiles. Of snakes there are several species, but all harmless. Of toads and frogs there are none. I was surprised at this, considering how well the temperate and damp woods in the elevate parts appeared adapted fro their habits. It recalled to my mind the singular statement made by Bory St. Vincent,* namely, that none of this family are to be found on the volcanic island in the great oceans. There certainly appears to be some foundation for this observation; wich is the more remarkabe, when compared with the case of lizards, which are generally among the earliest colonists of the smallest islet. It may be asked, whether this in not owing to the different facvilities of transport through salt-water, of the eggs of the latter protected by a calcerous coat, and of the slimy spawn of the former?

* Voyage aux quatre Iles d'Afrique.


As I at first observed, these islands are not so remarkable for the number of the species of reptiles, as for that of the individuals; when we remember the well-beaten paths made by the many hundred great tortoises—the warrens of the terrestrial Amblyrhynchus—and the groups of the aquatic species basking on the coast-rocks—we must admit that there is no other quarter of the world, where this order replaces the herbivorous mammalia in so extraordinary a manner. It is worthy of observation by the geologist (who will probably refer back in his mind to the secondary periods, when the Saurians were developed with dimensions, which at the present day can be compared only to the cetaceous mammalia), that this archipelago, instead of possessing a humid climate and rank vegetation, cannot be considered otherwise than extremely arid, and for an equatorial region, remarkably temperate.

As I at first observed, these islands are not so remarkable for the number of the species of reptiles, as for that of the individuals, when we remember the well-beaten paths made by the thousands of huge tortoises—the many turtles—the great warrens of the terrestrial Amblyrhynchus—and the groups of the marine species basking on the coast-rocks of every island—we must admit that there is no other quarter of the world where this Order replaces the herbivorous mammalia in so extraordinary a manner. The geologist on hearing this will probably refer back in his mind to the Secondary epochs, when lizards, some herbivorous, some carnivorous, and of dimensions comparable only with our existing whales, swarmed on the land and in the sea. It is, therefore, worthy of his observation, that this archipelago, instead of possessing a humid climate and rank vegetation, cannot be considered otherwise than extremely arid, and, for an equatorial region, remarkably temperate.

To finish with the zoology:

To finish with the zoology: the fifteen kinds of sea-fish which I procured here are all new species; they belong to twelve genera, all widely distributed, with the exception of Prionotus, of which the four previously known species live on the eastern side of America. Of land-shells I collected sixteen kinds (and two marked varieties, of which, with the exception of one Helix found at Tahiti, all are peculiar to this archipelago: a single fresh-water shell (Paludina) is common to Tahiti and Van Diemen's Land. Mr. Cuming, before our voyage procured here ninety species of sea-shells, and this does not include several species not yet specifically examined, of Trochus, Turbo, Monodonta, and Nassa. He has been kind enough to give me the following interesting results: Of the ninety shells, no less than forty-seven are unknown elsewhere—a wonderful fact, considering how widely distributed sea-shells generally are. Of the forty-three shells found in other parts of the world, twenty-five inhabit the western coast of America, and of these eight are distinguishable as varieties; the remaining eighteen (including one variety) were found by Mr. Cuming in the Low Archipelago, and some of them also at the Philippines. This fact of shells from islands in the central parts of the Pacific occurring here, deserves notice, for not one single sea-shell is known to be common to the islands of that ocean and to the west coast of America. The space of open sea running north and south off the west coast, separates two quite distinct conchological provinces; but at the Galapagos Archipelago we have a halting-place, where many new forms have been created, and whither these two great conchological provinces have each sent up several colonists. The American province has also sent here representative species; for there is a Galapageian species of Monoceros, a genus only found on the west coast of America; and there are Galapageian species of Fissurella and Cancellaria, genera common on the west coast, but not found (as I am informed by Mr. Cuming) in the central islands of the Pacific. On the other hand, there are Galapageian species of Oniscia and Stylifer, genera common to the West Indies and to the Chinese and Indian seas, but not found either on the west coast of America or in the central Pacific. I may here add, that after the comparison by Messrs. Cuming and Hinds of about 2000 shells from the eastern and western coasts of America, only one single shell was found in common, namely, the Purpura patula, which inhabits the West Indies, the coast of Panama, and the Galapagos. We have, therefore, in this quarter of the world, three great conchological sea-provinces, quite distinct, though surprisingly near each other, being separated by long north and south spaces either of land or of open sea.

I took great pains in collecting the insects, but I was surprised to find, even in the high and damp region, how exceedingly few they were in number. The forests of Tierra del Fuego are certainly much more barren; but with that exception I never collected in so poor a country. In the lower and sterile land I took seven species of Heteromera, and a few other insects; but in the find thriving woods towards the centre of the islands, although I perseveringly swept under the bushes during all kinds of weather, I obtained only a few minute Diptera and Hymenoptera. Owing to this scarcity of insects, nearly all the birds live in the lower country; and the part which any one would have thought much the most favourable for them, is frequented only by a few of the small tyrant-flycatchers. I do not believe a single bird, excepting the water-rail, is confined to the damp region. Mr. Waterhouse informs me that nearly all the insects belong to European forms, and that they do not by any means possess an equatorial character. I did not take a single one of large size, or of bright colours. This last observation applies equally to the birds and flowers. It is worthy of remark, that the only land-bird with bright colours, is that species of tyrant-flycatcher, which seems to be a wanderer from the continent. Of shells, there are a considerable number of land kinds, all of which, I believe are confined to this archipelago. Even of marine species, a large proportion were not known, before the collection made by Mr. Cuming on these islands was brought to England.

I took great pains in collecting the insects, but excepting Tierra del Fuego, I never saw in this respect so poor a country. Even in the upper and damp region I procured very few, excepting some minute Diptera and Hymenoptera, mostly of common mundane forms. As before remarked, the insects, for a tropical region, are of very small size and dull colours. Of beetles I collected twenty-five species (excluding a Dermestes and Corynetes imported, wherever a ship touches); of these, two belong to the Harpalidae, two to the Hydrophilidae, nine to three families of the Heteromera, and the remaining twelve to as many different families. This circumstance of insects (and I may add plants), where few in number, belonging to many different families, is, I believe, very general. Mr. Waterhouse, who has published* an account of the insects of this archipelago, and to whom I am indebted for the above details, informs me that there are several new genera: and that of the genera not new, one or two are American, and the rest of mundane distribution. With the exception of a wood-feeding Apate, and of one or probably two water-beetles from the American continent, all the species appear to be new.

* Ann. and Mag. of Nat. Hist. vol. xvi. p. 19.

I will not here attempt to come to any definite conclusions, as the species have not been accurately examined; but we may infer, that, with the exception of a few wanderers, the organic beings found on this archipelago are peculiar to it; and yet that their general form strongly partakes of an American character. It would be impossible for any one accustomed to the birds of Chile and La Plata to be placed on these islands, and not to feel convinced that he was, as far as the organic world was concerned, on American ground. This similarity in type, between distant islands and continents, while the species are distinct, has scarcely been suffieiently noticed. The circumstance would be explained, according to the views of some authors, by saying that the creative power had acted according to the same law over a wide area.

The botany of this group is fully as interesting as the zoology. Dr. J. Hooker will soon publish in the “Linnean Transactions” a full account of the Flora, and I am much indebted to him for the following details. Of flowering plants there are, as far as at present is known, 185 species, and 40 cryptogamic species, making altogether 225; of this number I was fortunate enough to bring home 193. Of the flowering plants, 100 are new species, and are probably confined to this archipelago. Dr. Hooker conceives that, of the plants not so confined, at least 10 species found near the cultivated ground at Charles Island, have been imported. It is, I think, surprising that more American species have not been introduced naturally, considering that the distance is only between 500 and 600 miles from the continent, and that (according to Collnet, p. 58) drift-wood, bamboos, canes, and the nuts of a palm, are often washed on the south-eastern shores. The proportion of 100 flowering plants out of 183 (or 175 excluding the imported weeds) being new, is sufficient, I conceive, to make the Galapagos Archipelago a distinct botanical province; but this Flora is not nearly so peculiar as that of St. Helena, nor, as I am informed by Dr. Hooker, of Juan Fernandez. The peculiarity of the Galapageian Flora is best shown in certain families;—thus there are 21 species of Compositae, of which 20 are peculiar to this archipelago; these belong to twelve genera, and of these genera no less than ten are confined to the archipelago! Dr. Hooker informs me that the Flora has an undoubtedly Western American character; nor can he detect in it any affinity with that of the Pacific. If, therefore, we except the eighteen marine, the one fresh-water, and one land-shell, which have apparently come here as colonists from the central islands of the Pacific, and likewise the one distinct Pacific species of the Galapageian group of finches, we see that this archipelago, though standing in the Pacific Ocean, is zoologically part of America.

If this character were owing merely to immigrants from America, there would be little remarkable in it; but we see that a vast majority of all the land animals, and that more than half of the flowering plants, are aboriginal productions It was most striking to be surrounded by new birds, new reptiles, new shells, new insects, new plants, and yet by innumerable trifling details of structure, and even by the tones of voice and plumage of the birds, to have the temperate plains of Patagonia, or rather the hot dry deserts of Northern Chile, vividly brought before my eyes. Why, on these small points of land, which within a late geological period must have been covered by the ocean, which are formed by basaltic lava, and therefore differ in geological character from the American continent, and which are placed under a peculiar climate,—why were their aboriginal inhabitants, associated, I may add, in different proportions both in kind and number from those on the continent, and therefore acting on each other in a different manner—why were they created on American types of organization? It is probable that the islands of the Cape de Verd group resemble, in all their physical conditions, far more closely the Galapagos Islands, than these latter physically resemble the coast of America, yet the aboriginal inhabitants of the two groups are totally unlike; those of the Cape de Verd Islands bearing the impress of Africa, as the inhabitants of the Galapagos Archipelago are stamped with that of America.

I have not as yet noticed by far the most remarkable feature in the natural history of this archipelago; it is, that the different islands to a considerable extent are inhabited by a different set of beings. My attention was first called to this fact by the Vice-Governor, Mr. Lawson, declaring that the tortoises differed from the different islands, and that he could with certainty tell from which island any one was brought. I did not for some time pay sufficient attention to this statement, and I had already partially mingled together the collections from two of the islands. I never dreamed that islands, about 50 or 60 miles apart, and most of them in sight of each other, formed of precisely the same rocks, placed under a quite similar climate, rising to a nearly equal height, would have been differently tenanted; but we shall soon see that this is the case. It is the fate of most voyagers, no sooner to discover what is most interesting in any locality, than they are hurried from it; but I ought, perhaps, to be thankful that I obtained sufficient materials to establish this most remarkable fact in the distribution of organic beings.

It has been mentioned, that the inhabitants can distinguish the tortoises, according to the islands whence that are brought. I was also informed that many of the islands possess trees and plants which do not occur on the others. For instance the berry-bearing tree, called Guyavita, which is common on James Island, certainly is not found on Charles Island, though appearing equally well fitted for it. Unfortunately, I was not aware of these facts till my collection was nearly completed: it never occurred to me, that the productions of islands only a few miles apart, and placed under the same physical conditions, would be dissimilar. I therefore did not attempt to make a series of specimens from the separate islands. It is the fate of every voyager, when he has just discovered what object in any place is more particularly worthy of his attention, to be hurried from it. In the case of the mocking-bird, I ascertained (and have brought home the specimens) that one species (Orpheus trifasciatus, Gould) is exclusively found in Charles Island; a second (O. parvulus) on Albemarle Island; and a third (O. melanotus) common to James and Chatham Islands. The two last species are closely allied, but the first would be considered by every naturalist as quite distinct. I examined many specimens in the different islands, and in each the respective kind was alone present. These birds agree in general plumage, structure, and habits; so that the different species replace each other in the economy of the different islands. These species are not characterized by the markings on the plumage alone, but likewise by the size and form of the bill, and other differences. I have stated, that in the thirteen species of ground-finches, a nearly perfect gradation may be traced, from a beak extraordinarily thick, to one so fine, that it may be compared to that of a warbler. I very much suspect, that certain members of the series are confined to different islands; therefore, if the collection had been made on any one island, it would not have presented so perfect a gradation. It is clear, that if several islands have each their peculiar species of the same genera, when these are placed together, they will have a wide range of character. But there is not space in this work, to enter on this curious subject.

The inhabitants, as I have said, state that they can distinguish the tortoises from the different islands; and that they differ not only in size, but in other characters. Captain Porter has described* those from Charles and from the nearest island to it, namely, Hood Island, as having their shells in front thick and turned up like a Spanish saddle, whilst the tortoises from James Island are rounder, blacker, and have a better taste when cooked. M. Bibron, moreover, informs me that he has seen what he considers two distinct species of tortoise from the Galapagos, but he does not know from which islands. The specimens that I brought from three islands were young ones: and probably owing to this cause neither Mr. Gray nor myself could find in them any specific differences. I have remarked that the marine Amblyrhynchus was larger at Albemarle Island than elsewhere; and M. Bibron informs me that he has seen two distinct aquatic species of this genus; so that the different islands probably have their representative species or races of the Amblyrhynchus, as well as of the tortoise. My attention was first thoroughly aroused, by comparing together the numerous specimens, shot by myself and several other parties on board, of the mocking-thrushes, when, to my astonishment, I discovered that all those from Charles Island belonged to one species (Mimus trifasciatus) all from Albemarle Island to M. parvulus; and all from James and Chatham Islands (between which two other islands are situated, as connecting links) belonged to M. melanotis. These two latter species are closely allied, and would by some ornithologists be considered as only well-marked races or varieties; but the Mimus trifasciatus is very distinct. Unfortunately most of the specimens of the finch tribe were mingled together; but I have strong reasons to suspect that some of the species of the sub-group Geospiza are confined to separate islands. If the different islands have their representatives of Geospiza, it may help to explain the singularly large number of the species of this sub-group in this one small archipelago, and as a probable consequence of their numbers, the perfectly graduated series in the size of their beaks. Two species of the sub-group Cactornis, and two of the Camarhynchus, were procured in the archipelago; and of the numerous specimens of these two sub-groups shot by four collectors at James Island, all were found to belong to one species of each; whereas the numerous specimens shot either on Chatham or Charles Island (for the two sets were mingled together) all belonged to the two other species: hence we may feel almost sure that these islands possess their respective species of these two sub-groups. In land-shells this law of distribution does not appear to hold good. In my very small collection of insects, Mr. Waterhouse remarks, that of those which were ticketed with their locality, not one was common to any two of the islands.

* Voyage in the U. S. ship Essex, vol. i. p. 215.

If we now turn to the Flora, we shall find the aboriginal plants of the different islands wonderfully different. I give all the following results on the high authority of my friend Dr. J. Hooker. I may premise that I indiscriminately collected everything in flower on the different islands, and fortunately kept my collections separate. Too much confidence, however, must not be placed in the proportional results, as the small collections brought home by some other naturalists though in some respects confirming the results, plainly show that much remains to be done in the botany of this group: the Leguminosae, moreover, has as yet been only approximately worked out:—

Name of Island Total No. of Species No. of Species found in others parts of the world No. of Species confined to the Galapagos Archipelago No. confined to the one Island No. of Species confined to the Galapagos Archipelago, but found on more than the one Island.
James Island713338308
 Albemarle Island 461826224
Chatham Island321616124
Charles Island6839 (or 29, if the probably imported plants be subtracted) 29218
NOTE: Table is in 1845 edition only, but occupies both columns here for clarity.

Hence we have the truly wonderful fact, that in James Island, of the thirty-eight Galapageian plants, or those found in no other part of the world, thirty are exclusively confined to this one island; and in Albemarle Island, of the twenty-six aboriginal Galapageian plants, twenty-two are confined to this one island, that is, only four are at present known to grow in the other islands of the archipelago; and so on, as shown in the above table, with the plants from Chatham and Charles Islands. This fact will, perhaps, be rendered even more striking, by giving a few illustrations:—thus, Scalesia, a remarkable arborescent genus of the Compositae, is confined to the archipelago: it has six species: one from Chatham, one from Albemarle, one from Charles Island, two from James Island, and the sixth from one of the three latter islands, but it is not known from which: not one of these six species grows on any two islands. Again, Euphorbia, a mundane or widely distributed genus, has here eight species, of which seven are confined to the archipelago, and not one found on any two islands: Acalypha and Borreria, both mundane genera, have respectively six and seven species, none of which have the same species on two islands, with the exception of one Borreria, which does occur on two islands. The species of the Compositae are particularly local; and Dr. Hooker has furnished me with several other most striking illustrations of the difference of the species on the different islands. He remarks that this law of distribution holds good both with those genera confined to the archipelago, and those distributed in other quarters of the world: in like manner we have seen that the different islands have their proper species of the mundane genus of tortoise, and of the widely distributed American genus of the mocking-thrush, as well as of two of the Galapageian sub-groups of finches, and almost certainly of the Galapageian genus Amblyrhynchus.

The distribution of the tenants of this archipelago would not be nearly so wonderful, if, for instance, one island had a mocking-thrush, and a second island some other quite distinct genus,—if one island had its genus of lizard, and a second island another distinct genus, or none whatever;—or if the different islands were inhabited, not by representative species of the same genera of plants, but by totally different genera, as does to a certain extent hold good: for, to give one instance, a large berry-bearing tree at James Island has no representative species in Charles Island. But it is the circumstance, that several of the islands possess their own species of the tortoise, mocking-thrush, finches, and numerous plants, these species having the same general habits, occupying analogous situations, and obviously filling the same place in the natural economy of this archipelago, that strikes me with wonder. It may be suspected that some of these representative species, at least in the case of the tortoise and of some of the birds, may hereafter prove to be only well-marked races; but this would be of equally great interest to the philosophical naturalist. I have said that most of the islands are in sight of each other: I may specify that Charles Island is fifty miles from the nearest part of Chatham Island, and thirty-three miles from the nearest part of Albemarle Island. Chatham Island is sixty miles from the nearest part of James Island, but there are two intermediate islands between them which were not visited by me. James Island is only ten miles from the nearest part of Albemarle Island, but the two points where the collections were made are thirty-two miles apart. I must repeat, that neither the nature of the soil, nor height of the land, nor the climate, nor the general character of the associated beings, and therefore their action one on another, can differ much in the different islands. If there be any sensible difference in their climates, it must be between the Windward group (namely, Charles and Chatham Islands), and that to leeward; but there seems to be no corresponding difference in the productions of these two halves of the archipelago.

The only light which I can throw on this remarkable difference in the inhabitants of the different islands, is, that very strong currents of the sea running in a westerly and W.N.W. direction must separate, as far as transportal by the sea is concerned, the southern islands from the northern ones; and between these northern islands a strong N.W. current was observed, which must effectually separate James and Albemarle Islands. As the archipelago is free to a most remarkable degree from gales of wind, neither the birds, insects, nor lighter seeds, would be blown from island to island. And lastly, the profound depth of the ocean between the islands, and their apparently recent (in a geological sense) volcanic origin, render it highly unlikely that they were ever united; and this, probably, is a far more important consideration than any other, with respect to the geographical distribution of their inhabitants. Reviewing the facts here given, one is astonished at the amount of creative force, if such an expression may be used, displayed on these small, barren, and rocky islands; and still more so, at its diverse yet analogous action on points so near each other. I have said that the Galapagos Archipelago might be called a satellite attached to America, but it should rather be called a group of satellites, physically similar, organically distinct, yet intimately related to each other, and all related in a marked, though much lesser degree, to the great American continent.

Before concluding my account of the zoology of these islands, I must describe more in details the tameness of the birds.

I will conclude my description of the natural history of these islands, by giving an account of the extreme tameness of the birds.

This disposition is common to all the terrestrial species; namely, to the mocking-birds, the finches, sylvicolæ, tyrant-flycatchers, doves, and hawks. There is not one which will not approach sufficiently near to be killed with a switch, and sometimes, as I have myself tried, with a cap or hat. A gun is here almost superfluous; for with the muzzle of one I pushed a hawk off the branch of a tree. One day a mocking-bird alighted on the edge of a pitcher (made of the shell of a tortoise), which I held in my hand whilst lying down. It began very quietly to sip the water, and allowed me to lift it with the vessel from the ground. I often tried, and very nearly succeeded, in catching these birds by their legs. Formerly the birds appear to have been even tamer than at present. Cowley* (in the year 1684) says that the “Turtle-doves were so tame that they would often alight on our hats and arms, so as that we could take them alive: they not fearing man, until such time as some of our company did fire at them, whereby they were rendered more shy.” Dampier† (in the same year) also says that a man in a morning's walk might kill six or seven dozen [sic, 5 or 6 dozen] of these birds. At present, although certainly very tame, they do not alight on people's arms, nor do they suffer themselves to be killed in such large numbers. It is surprising that the change has not been greater; for these islands during the last hundred and fifty years, have been frequently visited by bucaniers and whalers; and the sailors, wandering through the woods in search of tortoises, always take cruel delight in knocking down the little birds.

* Cowley's Voyage, p. 10, in Dampier's Collection of Voyages

† Dampier's Voyage, vol. i., p. 103.

This disposition is common to all the terrestrial species; namely, to the mocking-thrushes, the finches, wrens, tyrant-flycatchers, the dove, and carrion-buzzard. All of them are often approached sufficiently near to be killed with a switch, and sometimes, as I myself tried, with a cap or hat. A gun is here almost superfluous; for with the muzzle I pushed a hawk off the branch of a tree. One day, whilst lying down, a mocking-thrush alighted on the edge of a pitcher, made of the shell of a tortoise, which I held in my hand, and began very quietly to sip the water; it allowed me to lift it from the ground whilst seated on the vessel: I often tried, and very nearly succeeded, in catching these birds by their legs. Formerly the birds appear to have been even tamer than at present. Cowley (in the year 1684) says that the “Turtledoves were so tame, that they would often alight on our hats and arms, so as that we could take them alive, they not fearing man, until such time as some of our company did fire at them, whereby they were rendered more shy.” Dampier § also, in the same year, says that a man in a morning's walk might kill six or seven dozen [sic, 5 or 6 dozen] of these doves. At present, although certainly very tame, they do not alight on people's arms, nor do they suffer themselves to be killed in such large numbers. It is surprising that they have not become wilder; for these islands during the last hundred and fifty years have been frequently visited by bucaniers and whalers; and the sailors, wandering through the wood in search of tortoises, always take cruel delight in knocking down the little birds.

§ Of the multiple references to Dampier found in the 1839 edition, this is the only one retained in the 1845 edition. Note also that the source of Dampier's observation has been deleted.

These birds, although much persecuted, do not ~/readily become wild {in a short time: in}/In Charles Island, which had then been colonized about six years, I saw a boy sitting by a well with a switch in his hand, with which he killed the doves and finches as they came to drink. He had already procured a little heap of them for his dinner, and he said that he had constantly been in the habit of waiting {there}/{by this well} for the same purpose. {It would appear}/{We must conclude} that the birds, not having as yet learnt that man is a more dangerous animal than the tortoise, or the amblyrhynchus, disregard us, in the same manner as magpies in England do the cows and horses grazing in the fields.

The Falkland Islands offer a second instance of this disposition among its birds. The extraordinary tameness of the dark-coloured Furnarius has been remarked by Pernety, Lesson, and other voyagers. It is not, however, peculiar to that bird: the Caracara, snipe, upland and lowland goose, thrush, Emberiza, and even some true hawks, are all more or less tame. Both hawks and foxes are present; and as the birds are so tame, we may infer that the absence of all rapacious animals at the Galapagos, is not the cause of their tameness there. The geese at the Falklands, by the precaution they take in building on the islets, show that they are aware of their danger from the foxes; but they are not by this rendered wild towards man. This tameness of the birds, especially the waterfowl, is strongly contrasted with the habits of the same species in Tierra del Fuego, where for ages past they have been persecuted by the wild inhabitants. In the Falklands, the sportsman may sometimes kill more of the upland geese in one day, than he is able to carry home; whereas in Tierra del Fuego it is nearly as difficult to kill one, as it is in England of the common wild species.

The Falkland Islands offer a second instance of birds with a similar disposition. The extraordinary tameness of the little Opetiorhynchus has been remarked by Pernety, Lesson, and other voyagers. It is not, however, peculiar to that bird: the Polyborus, snipe, upland and lowland goose, thrush, bunting, and even some true hawks, are all more or less tame. As the birds are so tame there, where foxes, hawks, and owls occur, we may infer that the absence of all rapacious animals at the Galapagos, is not the cause of their tameness here. The upland geese at the Falklands show, by the precaution they take in building on the islets, that they are aware of their danger from the foxes; but they are not by this rendered wild towards man. This tameness of the birds, especially of the waterfowl, is strongly contrasted with the habits of the same species in Tierra del Fuego, where for ages past they have been persecuted by the wild inhabitants. In the Falklands, the sportsman may sometimes kill more of the upland geese in one day than he can carry home; whereas in Tierra del Fuego it is nearly as difficult to kill one, as it is in England to shoot the common wild goose.

In the time of Pernety* (1763), all the birds there appear to have been much tamer than at present. Pernety states that the Funarius would almost perch on his finger; and that with a wand he killed ten in half an hour. At that period, the birds must have been about as tame as they now are at the Galapagos. They appear to have learnt caution more quickly at the Falklands than at the latter place, and they have had proportionate means of experience; for besides frequent visits from vessels, the islands have been at intervals colonized during the whole period.

* Pernety, Voyage aux Iles Malouines, vil. ii., p.20.

In the time of Pernety (1763), all the birds there appear to have been much tamer than at present; he states that the Opetiorhynchus would almost perch on his finger; and that with a wand he killed ten in half an hour. At that period the birds must have been about as tame as they now are at the Galapagos. They appear to have learnt caution more slowly at these latter islands than at the Falklands, where they have had proportionate means of experience; for besides frequent visits from vessels, those islands have been at intervals colonized during the entire period.

Even formerly, when all the birds were so tame, by Pernety's account it was impossible to kill the black-necked swan. It is rather an interesting fact, that this is a bird of passage, and therefore brings with it the wisdom learnt in foreign countries.

Even formerly, when all the birds were so tame, it was impossible by Pernety's account to kill the black-necked swan—a bird of passage, which probably brought with it the wisdom learnt in foreign countries.

I have not met with any account of the land birds being so tame, in any other quarter of the world, as at the Galapagos and Falkland Islands. And it may be obsered that of the few archipelagoes of any size, which when discovered were uninhabited by man, these two are among the most important. From the foregoing statements we may, I think, conclude; first, that the wildness of birds with regard to man, is a particular instinct directed against him, and not dependent on any general degree of caution arising from other sources of danger; secondly, that it is not acquired by them in a short time, even when much persecuted; but that in the course of successive generations it becomes hereditary. With domesticated animals we are accustomed to see instincts becoming hereditary; but with those in a state of nature, it is more rare to discover instances of such acquired knowledge. In regard to the wildness of birds towards men, there is no other way of accounting for it. Few young birds in England have been injured by man, yet all are afraid of him: many individuals, on the other hand, both at the Galapagos and at the Falklands, have been injured, but yet have not learned that salutary dread. We may infer from these facts, what havoc the introduction of any new beast of prey must cause in a country, before the instincts of the aborigines become adapted to the stranger's craft or power.

Addendum to Page 477: To the two cases of land-birds being extremely tame in islands only lately inhabited by man, I might have added Tristan da Acunha. Captain D. Carmichael (Linn. Transact., vol. xii., p. 496), speaking of the thrush and bunting—the only true land-birds—says, “they fly about the cantonment, and are so tame as to suffer themselves to be caught with a hand-net.”

I may add that, according to Du Bois, all the birds at Bourbon in 1571-72, with the exception of the flamingoes and geese, were so extremely tame, that they could be caught by the hand, or killed in any number with a stick. Again, at Tristan d'Acunha in the Atlantic, Carmichael* states that the only two land-birds, a thrush and a bunting, were “so tame as to suffer themselves to be caught with a hand-net.” From these several facts we may, I think, conclude, first, that the wildness of birds with regard to man, is a particular instinct directed against him, and not dependent upon any general degree of caution arising from other sources of danger; secondly, that it is not acquired by individual birds in a short time, even when much persecuted; but that in the course of successive generations it becomes hereditary. With domesticated animals we are accustomed to see new mental habits or instincts acquired or rendered hereditary; but with animals in a state of nature, it must always be most difficult to discover instances of acquired hereditary knowledge. In regard to the wildness of birds towards man, there is no way of accounting for it, except as an inherited habit: comparatively few young birds, in any one year, have been injured by man in England, yet almost all, even nestlings, are afraid of him; many individuals, on the other hand, both at the Galapagos and at the Falklands, have been pursued and injured by man, yet have not learned a salutary dread of him. We may infer from these facts, what havoc the introduction of any new beast of prey must cause in a country, before the instincts of the indigenous inhabitants have become adapted to the stranger's craft or power.

* Linn. Trans. vol. xii. p. 496. The most anomalous fact on this subject which I have met with is the wildness of the small birds in the Arctic parts of North America (as described by Richardson, Fauna Bor. vol. ii. p. 332), where they are said never to be persecuted. This case is the more strange, because it is asserted that some of the same species in their winter-quarters in the United States are tame. There is much, as Dr. Richardson well remarks, utterly inexplicable connected with the different degrees of shyness and care with which birds conceal their nests. How strange it is that the English wood-pigeon, generally so wild a bird, should very frequently rear its young in shrubberies close to houses!



Tahiti—Aspect—Vegetation on the slope of the mountains—View of Eimeo—Excursion in the interior—Profound ravines—Succession of waterfalls—Number of wild useful plants—Temperance of inhabitants—Their moral state—Parliament convened—New Zealand—Bay of islands—Hippahs—Absence of all government—Excursion to Waimate—Missionary establishment—English weeds now run wild—Waiomio—Funeral service—Sail from New Zealand.



Pass through the Low Archipelago—Tahiti—Aspect—Vegetation on the Mountains—View of Eimeo—Excursion into the Interior—Profound Ravines—Succession of Waterfalls—Number of wild useful Plants—Temperance of the Inhabitants—Their moral state—Parliament convened—New Zealand—Bay of Islands—Hippahs—Excursion to Waimate—Missionary Establishment—English Weeds now run wild—Waiomio—Funeral of a New Zealand Woman—Sail for Australia.

October 20th.—The survey of the Galapagos Archipelago being concluded, we steered towards Tahiti and commenced our long passage of 3200 miles. In the course of a few days we sailed out of the gloomy and clouded ocean-district which extends during the winter far from the coast of South America. We then enjoyed bright and clear weather, while running pleasantly along at the rate of 150 or 160 miles a day before the steady trade-wind. The temperature in this more central part of the Pacific is higher than near the American shore. The thermometer in the poop cabin, both/~ by night and day, ranged between 80° and 83°, which {to my feelings was quite delightful}/{feels very pleasant}; but with one degree ~/{or two} higher, the effect/heat becomes oppressive. We passed through the {Dangerous or Low}/{Low or Dangerous} Archipelago, and saw several of those most curious rings of ~/coral land, just rising above the {edge of the water}/{water's edge}, which have been called Lagoon Islands. A long and brilliantly white beach is capped by a margin of green vegetation; and {this strip appears on both hands rapidly to narrow}/{the strip, looking either way, rapidly narrows} away in the distance, and then/~ sinks beneath the horizon. From the mast-head a wide expanse of smooth water can be seen within the {annular margin of land}/ring. These low ~/{hollow coral} islands bear no proportion to the vast ocean out of which they abruptly rise; and it seems wonderful, that such weak invaders are not overwhelmed, by the all-powerful and never-tiring waves of that great sea, miscalled the Pacific.

November 15th.—At daylight, Tahiti, an island which must for ever remain classical to the voyager in the South Sea, was in view. At this/a distance the appearance was not {very inviting}/attractive. The luxuriant vegetation of the lower {parts was not discernible}/{part could not yet be seen}, and as the clouds rolled past, the wildest and most precipitous peaks showed themselves towards the centre of the island. As soon as we {came to an anchor}/anchored in Matavai Bay, we were surrounded by canoes. This was our Sunday, but the Monday of Tahiti: if the case had been reversed, we should not have received a single visit; for the injunction not to launch a canoe on the sabbath is rigidly obeyed. After dinner we landed to enjoy all the delights {produced by}/of the first impressions of a new country, and that country the charming Tahiti. A crowd of men, women, and children, was collected on the memorable Point Venus, ready to receive us with laughing, merry faces. They marshalled us towards the house of Mr. Wilson, the missionary of the district, who met us on the road, and gave us a very friendly reception. After sitting a very short time in his house, we separated to walk about, but returned there in the evening.

The land capable of cultivation, is scarcely in any part more than a fringe of low alluvial soil, accumulated round the base of the mountains, and protected from the waves of the sea by a coral reef, which encircles {at a distance}/~ the entire line of coast.

The reef is broken in several parts so that ships can pass through, and the lake of smooth water within thus affords a safe harbour, as well as a channel for the native canoes.

Within the reef there is an expanse of smooth water, like that of a lake, where the canoes of the natives can ply with safety and where ships anchor.

The low land which comes down to the beach of coral-sand, is covered by the most beautiful productions of the intertropical regions. In the midst of bananas, orange, cocoa-nut, and bread-fruit trees, spots are cleared where yams, sweet potatoes, and sugar-cane, and pine-apples are cultivated. Even the brushwood is an imported fruit-tree, namely, the guava, which from its abundance has become as noxious as a weed. In Brazil I have often admired the

contrast of varied beauty in the banana, palm, and orange tree: here we have in addition

varied beauty of the bananas, palms, and orange-trees contrasted together; and here we also have

the bread-fruit, conspicuous from its large, glossy, and deeply digitated leaf. It is admirable to behold groves of a tree, sending forth its branches with the force/vigour of an English oak, loaded with large and most nutritious fruit.

However little on most occasions utility explains the delight received from any fine prospect, in this case it cannot fail to enter as an element in the feeling.

However seldom the usefulness of an object can account for the pleasure of beholding it, in the case of these beautiful woods, the knowledge of their high productiveness no doubt enters largely into the feeling of admiration.

The little winding paths, cool from the surrounding shade, led to the scattered houses; and/~ the owners of these/which everywhere gave us a cheerful and most hospitable reception.

I was pleased with nothing so much as with the inhabitants. There is a mildness in the expression of their countenances which at once banishes the idea of a savage; and an/~ intelligence which shows that they are advancing in civilization.

Their dress is as yet incongruous; no settled costume having taken the place of the ancient one. But even in its present state, it is far from being so ridiculous as it has been described by travellers of a few years' standing. Those who can afford it wear a white shirt, and sometimes a jacket, with a wrapper of coloured cotton round their middles; thus making a short petticoat, like the chilipa of the Gauchos. This dress appears so general with the chiefs, that it will probably become the settled fashion. No one, even to the queen, wears shoes or stockings; and only the chiefs have a straw hat on their heads. The common people, when working, keep the upper part of their bodies uncovered; and it is then that the Tahitians are seen to advantage. They are very tall, broad-shouldered, athletic, and with well-proportioned limbs. It has been somewhere remarked, that it requires little habit to make a darker tint of the skin more pleasing and natural, even to the eye of an European, than his own colour.

The common people, when working, keep the upper part of their bodies quite naked; and it is then that the Tahitians are seen to advantage. They are very tall, broad-shouldered, athletic, and well-proportioned. It has been remarked, that it requires little habit to make a dark skin more pleasing and natural to the eye of an European than his own colour.

{To see a}/A white man bathing by the side of a Tahitian, was like comparing/~ a plant bleached by the gardener's art {with one growing }/{compared with a fine dark green one growing vigorously} in the open fields. Most of the men are tattooed, and the ornaments follow the curvature of the body so gracefully, that they have a very {pleasing and}/~ elegant effect.

One common figure, varying only in its detail, branches somewhat like a tuft of palm-leaves* from the line of the backbone, and curls round each side.

* The similarity is not closer than between the capital of a Corinthian column and a tuft of acanthus.

One common pattern, varying in its details, is somewhat like the crown of a palm-tree. It springs from the central line of the back, and gracefully curls round both sides.

The simile may be a fanciful one, but I thought the body of a man thus ornamented was like the trunk of a, noble tree embraced by a delicate creeper.

Many of the elder people had their feet covered with small figures, {placed in order so}/{so placed} as to resemble a sock. This fashion, however, is partly gone by, and has been succeeded by others.

Here, although each man must for ever abide by the whim which reigned in his early days, yet fashion is far from immutable.

Here, although fashion is far from immutable, every one must abide by that prevailing in his youth.

An old man has thus his age for ever stamped on his body, and he cannot assume the airs of a young dandy. The women are tattooed in the same manner as the men, and very commonly on their fingers.

An unbecoming fashion in one respect is now almost universal: it is that of cutting the hair, or rather shaving it, from the upper part of the head, in a circular form, so as to leave only an outer ring of hair.

One unbecoming fashion is now almost universal: namely, shaving the hair from the upper part of the head, in a circular form, so as to leave only an outer ring.

The missionaries have tried to persuade the people to change this habit; but it is the fashion, and that is a sufficient answer at Tahiti, as well as at Paris. I was much disappointed in the personal appearance of the women: they are far inferior in every respect to the men. The custom of wearing a ~/{white or scarlet} flower in the back of the head, or through a small hole in each ear, is pretty

; the flower is generally either white or scarlet, and like the Camelia Japonica. They wear also a sort of crown of woven cocoa-nut leaves, as a shade to their eyes.

. A crown of woven cocoa-nut leaves is also worn as a shade for the eyes.

The women appear to be in greater want of some becoming costume even than the men.

Nearly all the natives understand a little English—that is, they know the names of common things; and by the aid of this, together with signs, a lame sort of conversation could be carried on. In returning in the evening to the boat, we stopped to witness a very pretty scene. Numbers of children were playing on the beach, and had lighted bonfires which illuminated/illumined the placid sea and surrounding trees; others, in circles, were singing Tahitian verses. We seated ourselves on the sand, and joined their party. The songs were impromptu, and I believe related to our arrival: one little girl sang a line, which the rest took up in parts, forming a very pretty chorus. The whole scene made us unequivocally aware that we were seated on the shores of an island in the ~/{far-famed} South Sea.

17th.—This day is reckoned in the log-book as Tuesday the 17th, instead of Monday the 16th, owing to our, so far, successful chase of the sun. Before breakfast the ship was hemmed in by a flotilla of canoes; and when the natives were allowed to come on board, I suppose there could not have been under/{less than} two hundred. It was the opinion of every one that it would have been difficult to have picked out an equal number from any other nation, who would have given so little trouble. Everybody brought something for sale: shells were the main article/articles of trade. The Tahitians now fully understand the value of money, and prefer it to old clothes or other articles. The various coins, however, of English and Spanish denomination puzzle them, and they never seemed to think the small silver quite secure until changed into dollars. Some of the chiefs have accumulated considerable sums of money. One chief, not long since, offered 800 dollars (about 160 pounds sterling) for a small vessel; and frequently they purchase whale-boats and horses at the rate of from 50 to 100 dollars.

After breakfast I went on shore, and ascended the slope of the nearest part of the mountain, to an elevation between two and three thousand feet. The form of the land is rather singular, and may be understood by explaining its hypothetical origin. I believe the interior mountains once stood as a smaller island in the sea; and that around their steep flanks, streams of lava and beds of sediment were accumulated under water, in a conical mass. This, after being raised, has been cut by numerous profound ravines, which all diverge from the common centre; the intervening ridges being flat-topped, and belonging to one slope. Having crossed the narrow girt of inhabited and fertile land, I followed the line of one of these ridges; having on each hand, very steep and smooth-sided valleys. The vegetation is singular, consisting almost exclusively of small dwarf ferns, which, higher up, are mingled with coarse grass.

After breakfast I went on shore, and ascended the nearest slope to a height of between two and three thousand feet. The outer mountains are smooth and conical, but steep; and the old volcanic rocks, of which they are formed, have been cut through by many profound ravines, diverging from the central broken parts of the island to the coast. Having crossed the narrow low girt of inhabited and fertile land, I followed a smooth steep ridge between two of the deep ravines.

The vegetation is singular, consisting almost exclusively of small dwarf ferns, which, higher up, are mingled with coarse grass. The appearance was not very dissimilar from that on some of the Welsh hills; and this being so close above the orchard of tropical plants on the coast, was very surprising. At the highest point which I reached, trees again appeared. Of these three zones of comparative luxuriance, the lower one owes its moisture, and therefore fertility, to its extreme flatness; for being scarcely raised above the level of the sea, the water, which it receives from the higher land, drains away slowly. The upper zone extends into a moister atmosphere; whilst the intermediate part, not being benefited by either of these advantages, is barren. The wood in the upper part was very pretty; tree-ferns having replaced the cocoa-nuts of the coast. It must not, however, be supposed that these woods at all equal the forests of Brazil. In an island, that vast number of productions which characterizes a continent, cannot be expected to occur.

The vegetation was singular, consisting almost exclusively of small dwarf ferns, mingled higher up, with coarse grass; it was not very dissimilar from that on some of the Welsh hills, and this so close above the orchard of tropical plants on the coast was very surprising. At the highest point, which I reached, trees again appeared. Of the three zones of comparative luxuriance, the lower one owes its moisture, and therefore fertility, to its flatness; for, being scarcely raised above the level of the sea, the water from the higher land drains away slowly. The intermediate zone does not, like the upper one, reach into a damp and cloudy atmosphere, and therefore remains sterile. The woods in the upper zone are very pretty, tree-ferns replacing the cocoa-nuts on the coast. It must not, however, be supposed that these woods at all equal in splendour the forests of Brazil. The vast numbers of productions, which characterize a continent, cannot be expected to occur in an island.

From the ~/highest point which I attained, there was a good view of the distant island of Eimeo, dependent on the same sovereign with Tahiti. On the lofty and broken pinnacles, white massive clouds were piled up, which formed an island in the blue sky, as Eimeo itself did in the blue ocean. The island, with the exception of one small gateway, is completely encircled by a reef. At this distance, a narrow but well-defined {line of brilliant white}/{brilliantly white line} was alone visible, where the waves first encountered the wall of coral.

The glassy water of the lagoon was included within this line; and out of it the mountains rose abruptly. The effect was very pleasing, and might aptly be compared to a framed engraving, where the frame represented the breakers, the marginal paper the lagoon, and the drawing the island itself.

The mountains rose abruptly out of the glassy expanse of the lagoon, included within this narrow white line, outside which the heaving waters of the ocean were dark-coloured. The view was striking: it may aptly be compared to a framed engraving, where the frame represents the breakers, the marginal paper the smooth lagoon, and the drawing the island itself.

When in the evening I descended from the mountain, a man, whom I had pleased with a trifling gift, met me, bringing with him hot roasted bananas, a pine-apple, and cocoa-nuts. After {having walked}/{walking} under a burning sun, I do not know anything more delicious than the milk of a young cocoa-nut. Pine-apples are here so abundant that the people eat them in the same wasteful manner as we might turnips. They are of an excellent flavor—perhaps even better than those cultivated in England; and this I believe is the highest compliment which can be paid to a/any fruit.

Before going on board I went to Mr. Wilson, who interpreted to the Tahitian, who had paid me so adroit an attention, that I wanted him and another man to accompany me on a short excursion into the mountains.

Before going on board, Mr. Wilson interpreted for me to the Tahitian who had paid me so adroit an attention, that I wanted him and another man to accompany me on a short excursion into the mountains.

November 18th.—In the morning I came on shore early, bringing with me some provisions in a bag, and two blankets for myself and servant. These were lashed to each end of a pole, and thus carried by my Tahitian companions: from custom these men are able to walk for a whole day, with as much as fifty pounds at each end. I told my guides to provide themselves with food and clothing; but for the latter, they said their skins were sufficient, and for the former, that there was plenty of food in the mountains.

18th.—In the morning I came on shore early, bringing with me some provisions in a bag, and two blankets for myself and servant. These were lashed to each end of a long pole, which was alternately carried by my Tahitian companions on their shoulders. These men are accustomed thus to carry, for a whole day, as much as fifty pounds at each end of their poles. I told my guides to provide themselves with food and clothing; but they said that there was plenty of food in the mountains, and for clothing, that their skins were sufficient.

The/Our line of march was the valley of Tia-auru, in/down which the/a river flows {that enters}/{into} the sea by Point Venus. This is one of the principal streams in the island, and its source lies at the base of the loftiest ~/central pinnacles, which {attain the elevation}/{rise to a height} of about 7000 feet. The whole island {may be considered as one group of mountains, so}/{is so mountainous} that the only way to penetrate into the interior is to follow up the valleys. Our road, at first, lay through wood/woods which bordered each side of the river; and the glimpses of the lofty central peaks, seen as through an avenue, with here and there a waving cocoa-nut tree on one side, were extremely picturesque. The valley soon began to narrow, and the sides to grow lofty and more precipitous. After having walked between three and four hours, we found the width of the ravine scarcely exceeded that of the bed of the stream. On each hand the walls were nearly vertical, yet from the soft nature of the volcanic strata, trees and a rank vegetation sprung from every projecting ledge. These precipices must have been some thousand feet high; and the whole formed a mountain gorge far more magnificent than anything which I had ever before beheld. Until the midday sun stood vertically over the ravine, the air felt cool and damp, but now it became very sultry. Shaded by a ledge of rock, beneath a facade of columnar lava, we ate our dinner. My guides had already procured a dish of small fish and fresh-water prawns. They carried with them a small net stretched on a hoop; and where the water was deep and in eddies, they dived, and like otters, {by their eyesight}/{with their eyes open} followed the fish into holes and corners, and thus secured/caught them.

The Tahitians have the dexterity of amphibious animals in the water. An anecdote mentioned by Ellis shows how much they feel at home in that/this element. When a horse was landing for Pomarre in 1817, the slings broke, and it fell into the water; immediately the natives jumped overboard, and by their cries and vain efforts at assistance almost drowned {the animal}/{it}. As soon, however, as it reached the shore, the whole population took to flight, and tried to hide themselves from the man-carrying pig, as they christened the horse.

A little higher up, the river divided itself into three little streams. The two northern ones were impracticable, owing to a succession of waterfalls which descended from the jagged summit of the highest mountain; the other to all appearance was equally inaccessible, but we managed to ascend it by a most extraordinary road. The sides of the valley were here nearly precipitous, but, as frequently happens with stratified rocks, small ledges projected, which were thickly covered by wild bananas, lilaceous plants, and other luxuriant productions of the tropics. The Tahitians, by climbing amongst these ledges, searching for fruit, had discovered a track by which the whole precipice could be scaled. The first ascent from the valley was very dangerous; for it was necessary to pass {the face of a}/{a steeply inclined face of} naked rock, by the aid of ropes which we brought with us. How any person discovered that this formidable spot was the only point where the side of the mountain was practicable, I cannot imagine. We then cautiously walked along one of the ledges till we came to {the stream already alluded to}/{one of the three streams}. This ledge formed a flat spot, above which a beautiful cascade, of/~ some hundred feet ~/{in height}, poured down its waters, and beneath {it another high one emptied itself into the main stream}/{, another high cascade fell into the main stream in the valley below}. From this cool and shady recess we made a circuit to avoid the overhanging cascade/waterfall. As before, we followed little projecting ledges, the apparent/~ danger being partly hidden/concealed by the thickness of the vegetation. In passing from one of the ledges to another, there was a vertical wall of rock. One of the Tahitians, a fine active man, placed the trunk of a tree against this, climbed up it, and then by the aid of crevices reached the summit.

He fixed the ropes to a projecting point, and lowered them for us, then hauled up a dog which accompanied us, and lastly our luggage.

He fixed the ropes to a projecting point, and lowered them for our dog and luggage, and then we clambered up ourselves.

Beneath the ledge on which the dead tree was placed, the precipice must have been five or six hundred feet deep; and if the abyss had not been partly concealed by the overhanging ferns and lilies my head would have turned giddy, and nothing should have induced me to have attempted it. We continued to ascend, sometimes along ledges, and sometimes along knife-edged ridges, having on each hand profound ravines. In the Cordillera I have seen mountains on a far grander scale, but for abruptness, {no part of them}/{nothing} at all comparable to/with this. In the evening we reached a flat little spot on the banks of the same stream, which {I have mentioned as descending by}/{we had continued to follow, and which descends in} a chain of waterfalls: here we bivouacked for the night. On each side of the ravine there were great beds of the {Feyé, or}/~ mountain-banana, covered with ripe fruit. Many of these plants were from twenty to twenty-five feet high, and from three to four in circumference. By the aid of strips of bark for twine/rope, the stems of bamboos for rafters, and the large leaf of the banana for a thatch, the Tahitians in a few minutes built ~/us an excellent house; and with the/~ withered leaves made a soft bed.

They then proceeded to make a fire, and cook our evening meal. A light was procured, by rubbing a blunt pointed stick in a groove made in another, as if with intention of deepening it, until by the friction the dust became ignited. A peculiarly white and very light wood (the Hibiscus tiliareus) is alone used for this purpose: it is the same which serves for poles to carry any burden, and for the floating {outrigger to steady the canoe}/{out-riggers to their canoes}. The fire was produced in a few seconds: but to a person who does not understand the art, it requires, {the greatest exertion; as I found}/{as I found, the greatest exertion}; but at last, to my great pride, I succeeded in igniting the dust. The Gaucho in the Pampas uses a different method: taking an elastic stick about eighteen inches long, he presses one end on his breast, and the other{(which is pointed) in}/{pointed end into} a hole in a piece of wood, and then rapidly turns the curved part, like a carpenter's centre-bit. The Tahitians having made a small fire of sticks, placed a score of stones, of about the size of cricket-balls, on the burning wood. In about ten minutes the sticks were consumed, and the stones hot. They had previously folded up in small parcels of leaves, pieces of beef, fish, ripe and unripe bananas, and the tops of the wild arum. These green parcels were laid in a layer between two layers of the hot stones, and the whole then covered up with earth, so that no smoke or steam could escape. In about a quarter of an hour, the whole was most deliciously cooked. The choice green parcels were now laid on a cloth of banana leaves, and with a cocoa-nut shell we drank the cool water of the running stream; and thus we enjoyed our rustic meal.

I could not look on the surrounding plants without admiration. On every side were forests of banana; the fruit of which, though serving for food in various ways, lay in heaps decaying on the ground. In front of us there was an extensive brake of wild sugar-cane; and the stream was shaded by the dark green knotted stem of the Ava,—so famous in former days for its powerful intoxicating effects. I chewed a piece, and found that it had an acrid and unpleasant taste, which would have induced any one at once to have pronounced it poisonous. Thanks to the missionaries, this plant now thrives only in these deep ravines, innocuous to every one. Close by I saw the wild arum, the roots of which, when well baked, are good to eat, and the young leaves better than spinach. There was the wild yam, and a liliaceous plant called Ti, which grows in abundance, and has a soft brown root, in shape and size like a huge log of wood: this served us for dessert, for it is as sweet as treacle, and with a pleasant taste. There were, moreover, several other wild fruits, and useful vegetables. The little stream, besides its cool water, produced eels, and cray-fish. I did indeed admire this scene, when I compared it with an uncultivated one in the temperate zones. I felt the force of the observation/remark, that man, at least savage man, with his reasoning powers only partly developed, is the child of the tropics.

As the evening drew to a close, I strolled beneath the gloomy shade of the bananas up the course of the stream. My walk was soon brought to a close, by coming to a waterfall between two and three hundred feet high; and again above this there was another. I mention all these waterfalls in this one brook, to give a general idea of the inclination of the land. In the little recess where the water fell, it did not appear that a breath of wind had ever blown.

The leaves of the banana, damp with spray, possessed an unbroken edge, instead of being split, as generally is the case, into a thousand shreds.

The thin edges of the great leaves of the banana, damp with spray, were unbroken, instead of being, as is so generally the case, split into a thousand shreds.

From our position, almost suspended on the mountain side, there were glimpses into the depths of the neighbouring valleys; and the lofty points of the central mountains, towering up within sixty degrees of the zenith, hid half the evening sky. Thus seated, it was a sublime spectacle to watch the shades of night gradually obscuring the last and highest pinnacles.

Before we laid ourselves down to sleep, the elder Tahitian fell on his knees, and with closed eyes repeated a long prayer in his native tongue. He prayed as a Christian should do, with fitting reverence, and without the fear of ridicule or any ostentation of piety. At our meals neither of the men would taste food, without saying beforehand a short grace. Those travellers who think that a Tahitian prays only when the eyes of the missionary are fixed on him, should have slept with us that night on the mountain-side. Before morning it rained very heavily; but the good thatch of banana-leaves kept us dry.

November 19th.—At daylight my friends, after their morning prayer, prepared an excellent breakfast in the same manner as in the evening. They themselves certainly partook of it largely; indeed I never saw any men eat nearly/near so much. I should/~ suppose such enormously/~ capacious stomachs must be the result/effect of a large part of their diet consisting of fruit and vegetables, which contain, in a given bulk, a comparatively small portion of nutriment. Unwittingly, I was the means of my companions breaking, as I afterwards learned, one of their own laws, and resolutions: I took with me a flask of spirits, which they could not {resoleve to refuse}/{refuse to partake of}; but as often as they drank a little, they put their fingers before their mouths, and uttered the word “Missionary.” About two years ago, although the use of the ava was prevented, drunkenness from the introduction of spirits became very prevalent. The missionaries prevailed on a few good men, who saw that their country was rapidly going to ruin, to join with them in a Temperance Society. From good sense or shame, all the chiefs and the queen were at last persuaded to join. Immediately a law was passed, that no spirits should be allowed to be introduced into the island, and that he who sold and he who bought the forbidden article should be punished by a fine. With remarkable justice, a certain period was allowed for stock in hand to be sold, before the law came into effect. But when it did, a general search was made, in which even the houses of the missionaries were not exempted, and all the ava (as the natives call all ardent spirits) was poured on the ground. When one reflects on the effect of intemperance on the aborigines of the two Americas, I think it will be acknowledged that every well-wisher of Tahiti owes no common debt of gratitude to the missionaries. As long as the little island of St. Helena remained under the government of the East India Company, spirits, owing to the great injury they had produced, were not allowed to be imported; but wine was supplied from the Cape of Good Hope. It is rather a striking and not very gratifying fact, that in the same year that spirits were allowed to be sold {on that island{/{in Helena}, their use was banished from Tahiti by the free will of the people.

After breakfast we proceeded on our Journey. As my object was merely to see a little of the interior scenery, we returned by another track, which descended into the main valley lower down. For some distance we wound, by a most intricate path, along the side of the mountain which formed the valley. In the less precipitous parts we passed through extensive groves of the wild banana. The Tahitians, with their naked, tattooed bodies, their heads ornamented with flowers, and seen in the dark shade of these groves, would have formed a fine picture of man inhabiting some primeval forest/land. In our descent we followed the line of ridges; these were exceedingly narrow, and for considerable lengths steep as a ladder; but all clothed with vegetation. The extreme care necessary in poising each step rendered the walk fatiguing. I {am never weary of expressing my astonishment}/{did not cease to wonder} at these ravines and precipices:

When viewing the surrounding country from the knife-edged ridges, the point of support was so small, that the effect was nearly the same{, I should think, as}/{as it must be from a balloon. In this descent we had occasion to use the ropes only once, at the point where we entered the main valley. We slept under the same ledge of rock, where{, the day before, we had dined}/{we had dined the day before}: the night was fine, but from the depth and narrowness of the gorge, profoundly dark.

Before actually seeing this country, I found it difficult to understand two facts mentioned by Ellis; namely, that after the murderous battles of former times, the survivors on the conquered side retired into the mountains, where a handful of men could resist a multitude. Certainly half a dozen men, at the spot where the Tahitian reared the old tree, could easily have repulsed thousands. Secondly, that after the introduction of Christianity, there were wild men who lived in the mountains, and whose retreats were unknown to the more civilized inhabitants.

November 20th.—In the morning we started early, and reached Matavai at noon. On the road we met a large party of noble athletic men, going for wild bananas. I found that the ship, on account of the difficulty in watering, had moved to the harbour of Papawa, to which place I immediately walked. This is a very pretty spot. The cove is surrounded by reefs, and the water as smooth as that/~ in a lake. The cultivated ground, with all/~ its beautiful productions, {and the}/{interspersed with} cottages, comes close down to the water's edge. From the varying accounts which I had read before reaching these islands, I was very anxious to form, from my own observation, a judgment of their moral state,—although such judgment would necessarily be very imperfect. {A first impression}/{First impressions} at all times very much depends/depend on one's previously acquired ideas. My notions were drawn from Ellis's “Polynesian Researches”—an admirable and most interesting work, but naturally looking at everything under a favourable point of view, from Beechey's Voyage; and from that of Kotzebue, which is strongly adverse to the whole missionary system. He who compares these three accounts will, I think, form a tolerably accurate conception of the present state of Tahiti. One of my impressions which I took from the two last authorities, was decidedly incorrect; viz., that the Tahitians had become a gloomy race, and lived in fear of the missionaries. Of the latter feeling I saw no trace, unless, indeed, fear and respect be confounded under one name. Instead of discontent being a common feeling, it would be difficult in Europe to pick out of a crowd half so many merry and happy faces. The prohibition of the flute and dancing is inveighed against as wrong and foolish;—the more than presbyterian manner of keeping the sabbath is looked at in a similar light. On these points I will not pretend to offer any opinion {in opposition}/~ to men who have resided as many years as I was days on the island.

On the whole, it appears to me that the morality and religion of the inhabitants is/are highly creditable. There are many who attack, even more acrimoniously than Kotzebue, both the missionaries, their system, and the effects produced by it. Such reasoners never compare the present state with that of the island only twenty years ago; nor even with that of Europe at this day; but they compare it with the high standard of Gospel perfection. They expect the missionaries to effect that which the Apostles themselves failed to do. Inasmuch as the condition of the people falls short of this high order/standard, blame is attached to the missionary, instead of credit for that which he has effected. They forget, or will not remember, that human sacrifices, and the power of an idolatrous priesthood—a system of profligacy unparalleled in ~/{any other part of} the world{—}/{and}infanticide a consequence of that system—bloody wars, where the conquerors spared neither women nor children—that all these have been abolished; and that dishonesty, intemperance, and licentiousness have been greatly reduced by the introduction of Christianity. In a voyager to forget these things is base ingratitude; for should he chance to be at the point of shipwreck on some unknown coast, he will most devoutly pray that the lesson of the missionary may {be found to}/~ have extended thus far.

In point of morality, the virtue of the women, it has been often said, is most open to exception. But before they are blamed too severely, it will be well distinctly to call to mind the scenes described by Captain Cook and Mr. Banks, in which the grandmothers and mothers of the present race played a part. Those who are most severe, should consider how much of the morality of the women in Europe is owing to the system early impressed by mothers on their daughters, and how much in each individual case to the precepts of religion. But it is useless to argue against such reasoners;—I believe that, disappointed in not finding the field of licentiousness quite so open as formerly, they will not give credit to a morality which they do not wish to practise, or to a religion which they undervalue, if not despise.

Sunday 22d.—The harbour of Papiete, which may be considered as the capital of the island, is about seven miles distant from Matavai, to which point the Beagle had returned. The queen resides there, and it is the seat of government, and the chief resort of shipping.

Sunday, 22nd.—The harbour of Papiete, where the queen resides, may be considered as the capital of the island: it is also the seat of government, and the chief resort of shipping.

Captain FitzRoy took a party there this day to hear divine service, first in the Tahitian language, and afterwards in our own. Mr. Pritchard, the leading missionary in the island, performed the service{, which was a most interesting spectacle}/~. The chapel consisted of a large airy framework of wood; and it was filled to excess by tidy, clean people, of all ages and both sexes. I was rather disappointed in the apparent degree of attention; but I believe my expectations were raised too high. At all events the appearance was quite equal to that in a country church in England. The singing of the hymns was decidedly very pleasing, but the language from the pulpit, although fluently delivered, did not sound well: a constant repetition of words, like “tata ta, mata mai” rendered it monotonous. After English service, a party returned on foot to Matavai. It was a pleasant walk, sometimes along the sea-beach and sometimes under the shade of the many beautiful trees.

About two years ago, a small vessel under English colours was plundered by some of the inhabitants of the Low Islands, which were then under the dominion of the Queen of Tahiti. It was believed that the perpetrators were instigated to this act by some indiscreet laws issued by her majesty. The British government demanded compensation; which was acceded to, and the sum of nearly three thousand dollars was agreed to be paid on the first of last September. The Commodore at Lima ordered Captain FitzRoy to inquire concerning this debt, and to demand satisfaction if it were not paid. Captain FitzRoy accordingly requested an interview with the Queen ~/{Pomarre, since famous from the ill-treatment she had received from the French}; and a parliament was held to consider the question, at which all the principal chiefs of the island and the queen were assembled. I will not attempt to describe what took place, after the interesting account given by Captain FitzRoy. The money, it appeared, had not been paid; perhaps the alleged reasons {for the failure}/~ were rather equivocating/equivocal; but otherwise I cannot sufficiently express our general surprise at the extreme good sense, the reasoning powers, moderation, candour, and prompt resolution, which were displayed on all sides. I believe {every one of us}/{we all} left the meeting with a very different opinion of the Tahitians, from {that which}/{what} we entertained when we entered. The chiefs and people resolved to subscribe and complete the sum which was wanting; Captain FitzRoy urged that it was hard that their private property should be sacrificed for the crimes of distant islanders. They replied, that they were grateful for his consideration, but that Pomarre was their Queen, and that they were determined to help her in this her difficulty. This resolution and its prompt execution, for a book was opened early the next morning, made a perfect conclusion to this very remarkable scene of loyalty and good feeling.

After the main discussion was ended, several of the chiefs took the opportunity of asking Captain FitzRoy many intelligent questions concerning/on international customs and laws{. These related}/{, relating} to the treatment of ships and foreigners. On some points, as soon as the decision was made, the law was issued verbally on the spot. This Tahitian parliament lasted for several hours; and when it was over Captain FitzRoy invited {the queen}/{Queen Pomarre} to pay the Beagle a visit.


November 25th.—In the evening four boats were sent for her majesty; the ship was dressed with flags, and the yards manned on her coming on board. She was accompanied by most of the chiefs. The behaviour of all was very proper: they begged for nothing, and seemed much pleased with Captain FitzRoy's presents. The queen is a large awkward woman, without any beauty, grace or dignity. She has only one royal attribute: a perfect immovability of expression under all circumstances, and that rather a sullen one. The rockets were most admired, and a deep “Oh!” could be heard from the shore, all round the dark bay, after each explosion. The sailors' songs were also much admired; and the queen said she thought that one of the most boisterous ones certainly could not be a hymn! The royal party did not return on shore till past midnight.

26th.—In the evening, with a gentle land-breeze, a course was steered for New Zealand; and as the sun set, we {took a farewell look at}/{had a farewell view of} the mountains of Tahiti—the island to which every voyager has offered up his tribute of admiration.

December 19th.—In the evening we saw {New Zealand in the distance}/{in the distance New Zealand}. We may now consider {ourselves as having}/{that we have} nearly crossed the Pacific. It is necessary to sail over this great sea/ocean to comprehend its immensity. Moving quickly onwards for weeks together, we meet with nothing but the same blue, profoundly deep, ocean. Even within the archipelagoes, the islands are mere specks, and far distant one from the other. Accustomed to look at maps drawn on a small scale, where dots, shading, and names are crowded together, we do not rightly judge how infinitely small the proportion of dry land is to water of this {great sea}/{vast expanse}.

The meridian of the Antipodes likewise has now been passed; and every league, thanks to our good fortune, which we travel onwards, is one league nearer to England.

The meridian of the Antipodes has likewise been passed; and now every league, it made us happy to think, was one league nearer to England.

These Antipodes call to one's mind old recollections of childish doubt and wonder. Only the other day I looked forward to this airy barrier as a definite point in our voyage homewards; but now I find it, and all such resting-places for the imagination, are like shadows, which a man moving onwards cannot catch. A gale of wind {which lasted}/{lasting} for some days, has lately given us {time and inclination}/{full leisure} to measure the future stages in our long/homeward voyage, and to wish most earnestly for its termination.

December 21st.—Early in the morning we entered the Bay of Islands, and being becalmed for some hours near the mouth, we did not reach the anchorage till the middle of the day. The country is hilly, with a smooth outline, and is deeply intersected by numerous arms ~/{of the sea} extending from the bay. The surface appears from a distance as if clothed with coarse pasture, but this in truth is nothing but fern. On the more distant hills, as well as in parts of the valleys, there is a good deal of woodland. The general tint of the landscape is not a bright green; and it resembles the country a short distance to the southward/south of Concepcion in Chile. In several parts of the bay, little villages of square tidy looking houses were/are scattered close down to the water's edge.

Three whaling ships were lying at anchor; but with the exception of these, and of a few canoes, now and then crossing from one shore to the other, an air of extreme quietness reigned over the whole district.

Three whaling-ships were lying at anchor, and a canoe every now and then crossed from shore to shore; with these exceptions, an air of extreme quietness reigned over the whole district.

Only a single canoe came alongside. This, and the aspect of the whole scene, afforded a remarkable, and not very pleasing contrast, with our joyful and boisterous welcome at Tahiti.

In the afternoon we went on shore to one of the larger groups of houses, which yet hardly deserves the title of a village. Its name is Pahia: it is the residence of the missionaries;

and with the exception of their servants and labourers, there are no native residents.

and there are no native residents except servants and labourers.

In the vicinity of the Bay of Islands, the number of Englishmen, including their families, amounts to between two and three hundred. All the cottages, many of which are whitewashed and look {as I have said}/~ very neat, are the property of the English. The hovels of the natives are so diminutive and paltry, that they can scarcely be perceived from any/a distance. At Pahia, it was quite pleasing to behold the English flowers in the platforms/gardens before the houses; there were roses of several kinds, honeysuckle, jasmine, stocks, and whole hedges of sweetbrier.

December 22nd.—In the morning I went out walking; but I soon found that the country was very impracticable. All the hills are thickly covered with tall fern, together with a low bush which grows like a cypress; and very little ground has been cleared or cultivated {in this neighbourhood}/~. I then tried the sea-beach; but proceeding towards either hand, my walk was soon stopped by {by creeks and deep streams of fresh water}/{salt-water creeks and deep brooks}. The communication between the inhabitants of the different parts of the bay, is (as in Chiloe) almost entirely kept up by boats. I was surprised to find that almost every hill which I ascended, had been at some former time more or less fortified. The summits were cut into steps or successive terraces, and ~/frequently they had been frequently/~ protected by deep trenches. I afterwards observed that the principal hills inland in like manner showed an artificial outline. These are the Pas, so frequently mentioned by Captain Cook under the name of “hippah:” the difference of sound being owing to the prefixed article.

That the Pas had formerly been ~/much used, was evident from the piles of shells, and the pits in which, as I was informed, sweet potatoes {were kept as reserved provisions}/{used to be kept as a reserve}. As there was no water on these hills, the defenders could never have anticipated a long siege, but only a hurried attack for plunder, {under which circumstances}/{against which} the successive terraces would have afforded good protection. The general introduction of fire-arms has changed the whole system of warfare; and an exposed situation on the top of a hill {would now be}/{is now} worse than useless. The Pas in consequence is/are, at the present day, always built on a level piece of ground. {It consists}/{They consist} of a double stockade of thick and tall posts, placed in a zigzag line, so that every part can be flanked. Within the stockade a mound of earth is thrown up, behind which the defenders can rest in safety, or use their fire-arms over it. On the level of the ground little archways sometimes pass through this breastwork, by which means the defenders can crawl out to the stockade to/and reconnoitre their enemies. The Rev. W. Williams, who gave me this account, added, that in one Pas he had noticed spurs or buttresses projecting {from the inside }/{on the inner and protected side} of the mound of earth. On asking the chief the use of them, he replied, that if two or three of his men {should be}/{were} shot, their neighbours would not see the bodies, and so be discouraged.

These Pases/Pas are considered by the New Zealanders as very perfect means of defence: for the attacking force is never so well disciplined as to rush in a body to the stockade, cut it down, and effect their entry. When a tribe goes to war, the chief cannot order one party to go here and another there; but every man fights in the manner which best pleases himself; and {for individuals}/{to each separate individual} to approach a stockade defended by fire-arms must appear certain death. I should think a more warlike race of inhabitants could not be found in any part of the world than the New Zealanders. Their conduct on first seeing a ship, as described by Captain Cook, strongly illustrates this: the act of throwing volleys of stones at so great and novel an object, and their defiance of “Come on shore and we will kill and eat you all” shows uncommon boldness. This warlike spirit is evident in many of their customs, and even in their smallest actions. If a New Zealander is struck, although but in joke, the blow must be returned and of this I saw an instance with one of our officers.

At the present day, from the progress of civilization, there is much less warfare, except among some of the southern tribes.

When Europeans first traded here, muskets and ammunition far exceeded in value any other article: now they are in little request, and are indeed often offered for sale. Among some of the southern tribes, however, there is still much hostility.


I heard a characteristic anecdote of what took place there/~ some time ago~/{in the south}. A missionary found a chief and his tribe in preparation for war;—their muskets clean and bright, and their ammunition ready. He reasoned long on the inutility of the war, and the little provocation which had been given for it. The chief was much shaken in his resolution, and seemed in doubt: but at length it occurred to him that a barrel of his gunpowder was in a bad state, and that it would not keep much longer. This was brought forward as an unanswerable argument for the necessity of immediately declaring war: the idea of allowing so much good gunpowder to spoil was not to be thought of; and this settled the point. I was told by the missionaries that in the life of Shongi, the chief who visited England, the love of war was the one and lasting spring of every action. The tribe in which he was a principal chief had at one time been oppressed by another tribe from the Thames River. A solemn oath was taken by the men that when their boys should grow up, and they should be powerful enough, they would never forget or forgive these injuries. To fulfil this oath appears to have been Shongi's chief motive for going to England; and when there it was his sole object. Presents were valued only as they could be converted into arms; of the arts, those alone {were interesting}/{interested him} which were connected with the manufacture of arms. When at Sydney, Shongi, by a strange coincidence, met the hostile chief of the Thames River at the house of Mr. Marsden: their conduct was civil to each other; but Shongi told him that when again in New Zealand he would never cease to carry war into his country. The challenge was accepted; and Shongi on his return fulfilled the threat to the utmost letter. The tribe on the Thames River was utterly overthrown, and the chief to whom the challenge had been given was himself killed. Shongi, although harbouring such deep feelings of hatred and revenge, is described as having been a good-natured person.

In the evening I went with Captain FitzRoy, and Mr. Baker, one of the missionaries, to pay a visit to Kororadika.

This is the largest village, and will one day, no doubt increase till it becomes the chief town: besides a considerable native population, there are many English residents. These latter are men of the most worthless character: and among them are many runaway convicts from New South Wales. There are many spirit-shops; and the whole population is addicted to drunkenness and all kinds of vice. As this is the capital, a person would be inclined to form his opinion of the New Zealanders from what he here saw; but in this case his estimate of their character would be too low. This little village is the very stronghold of vice. Although many tribes in other parts have embraced Christianity, here the greater part yet remain in heathenism. In such places the missionaries are held in little esteem : but they complain far more of the conduct of their countrymen, than of that of the natives. It is strange, but I have heard these worthy men say, that the only protection which they need, and on which they rely, is from the native chiefs against Englishmen.


We wandered about the village, and saw and conversed with many of the people, both men, women, and children. Looking at the New Zealander, one naturally compares him with the Tahitian; both belonging to the same family of mankind. The comparison, however, tells heavily against the New Zealander. He may, perhaps be superior in energy, but in every other respect his character is of a much lower order. One glance at their respective expressions, brings conviction to the mind that one is a savage, the other a civilized man. It would be vain to seek in the whole of New Zealand a person with the face and mien of the old Tahitian chief Utamme. No doubt the extraordinary manner in which tattooing is here practised, gives a disagreeable expression to their countenances. The complicated but symmetrical figures covering the whole face, puzzle and mislead an unaccustomed eye: it is moreover probable, that the deep incisions, by destroying the play of the superficial muscles, give an air of rigid inflexibility. But, besides this, there is a twinkling in the eye, which cannot indicate anything but cunning and ferocity. Their figures are tall and bulky; but not comparable in elegance with those of the working-classes in Tahiti.

Both their persons and houses are filthily dirty and offensive: the idea of washing either their bodies or their clothes never seems to enter their heads. I saw a chief, who was wearing a shirt black and matted with filth, and when asked how it came to be so dirty, he replied, with surprise, “Do not you see it is an old one?” Some of the men have shirts; but the common dress is one or two large blankets, generally black with dirt, which are thrown over their shoulders in a very inconvenient and awkward fashion. A few of the principal chiefs have decent suits of English clothes; but these are only worn on great occasions.

Considering the number of foreigners residing in New Zealand, and the amount of commerce carried on there, the state of government of the country is most remarkable. It is, however, incorrect to use the term government, where absolutely no such thing exists. The land is divided, by well-determined boundaries, between various tribes, independent of each other. The individuals in each tribe consist of freemen, and slaves taken in war; and the land is common to all the free born; that is, each may occupy and till any part that is vacant. In a sale, therefore, of land, every such person must receive part payment. Among the freemen, there will always be some one, who from riches, from talents, or from descent from some noted character, will take the lead; and in this respect he may be considered as the chief. But if the united tribe should be asked, who was their chief, no one would be acknowledged. Without doubt, in many cases, individuals have obtained great influence; but as far as I can understand the system, their power is not legitimate. Even the authority of a master over his slave, or a parent over his child, appears to be regulated by no kind of ordinary custom. Proper laws of course are quite unknown: certain lines of action are generally considered right, and others wrong: if such customs are infringed, the injured person and his tribe, if they have power, seek retribution; if not, they treasure up the recollection of the injury till the day of revenge arrives. If the state in which the Fuegians live should be fixed at zero in the scale of government, I am afraid New Zealand would rank but a few degrees higher; while Tahiti, even when first discovered, would have occupied a respectable position.


December 23rd.—At a place called Waimate, about fifteen miles from the Bay of Islands, and midway between the eastern and western coasts, the missionaries have purchased some land for agricultural purposes. I had been introduced to the Rev. W. Williams, who, upon my expressing a wish, invited me to pay him a visit there. Mr. Bushby, the British resident, offered to take me in his boat by a creek, where I should see a pretty waterfall, and by which means my walk would be shortened. He likewise procured for me a guide.

Upon asking a neighbouring chief to recommend a man, the chief himself offered to go; but his ignorance of the value of money was so complete, that at first he asked how many pounds I would give him, but afterwards was well contented with two dollars. When I showed the chief a very small bundle, which I wanted carried, it became absolutely necessary ~/{for him} to take a slave {for that purpose}/~. These feelings of pride are beginning to wear away; but formerly a leading man would sooner have died, than undergone the indignity of carrying the smallest burden. My companion was a light active man, dressed in a dirty blanket, and with his face completely tattooed. He had formerly been a great warrior. He appeared to be on very cordial terms with Mr. Bushby; but at various times they had quarrelled violently. Mr. Bushby remarked that a little quiet irony would frequently silence any one of these natives in their most blustering moments. This chief has come and harangued Mr. Bushby in a hectoring manner, saying, “A great chief, a great man, a friend of mine, has come to pay me a visit—you must give him something good to eat, some fine presents, etc.” Mr. Bushby has allowed him to finish his discourse, and then has quietly replied by some answer such as, “What else shall your slave do for you?” The man would then instantly, with a very comical expression, cease his braggadocio.

Some time ago, Mr. Bushby suffered a far more serious attack. A chief and a party of men tried to break into his house in the middle of the night, and not finding this so easy, commenced a brisk firing with their muskets. Mr. Bushby was slightly wounded, but the party was at length driven away. Shortly afterwards it was discovered who was the aggressor; and a general meeting of the chiefs was convened to consider the case. It was considered by the New Zealanders as very atrocious, inasmuch as it was a night attack, and that Mrs. Bushby was lying ill in the house: this latter circumstance, much to their honour, being considered in all cases as a protection. The chiefs agreed to confiscate the land of the aggressor to the King of England. The whole proceeding, however, in thus trying and punishing a chief was entirely without precedent. The aggressor, moreover, lost cast/caste in the estimation of his equals and this was considered by the British as of more consequence than the confiscation of his land.

As the boat was shoving off, a second chief stepped into her, who only wanted the amusement of the passage up and down the creek. I never saw a more horrid and ferocious expression than this man had. It immediately struck me I had somewhere seen his likeness: it will be found in Retzch's outlines to Schiller's ballad of Fridolin, where two men are pushing Robert into the burning iron furnace. It is the man who has his arm on Robert's breast. Physiognomy here spoke the truth; this chief had been a notorious murderer, and was {to boot}/~ an arrant coward ~/{to boot}. At the point where the boat landed, Mr. Bushby accompanied me a few hundred yards on the road: I could not help admiring the cool impudence of the hoary old villain, whom we left lying in the boat, when he shouted to Mr. Bushby, “Do not you stay long, I shall be tired of waiting here.”

We now commenced our walk. The road lay along a well beaten path, bordered on each side by the tall fern, which covers the whole country. After travelling some miles, we came to a little country village, where a few hovels were collected together, and some patches of ground cultivated {for potato crops}/{with potatoes}. The introduction of the potato has been the most essential benefit to the island; it is now much more used than any native vegetable. New Zealand is favoured by one great natural advantage; namely, that the inhabitants can never perish from famine. The whole country abounds with fern: and the roots of this plant, if not very palatable, yet contain much nutriment. A native can always subsist on these, and on the shells/{shell-fish,} which are abundant on all parts of the sea-coast. The villages are chiefly conspicuous by the platforms which are raised on four posts ten or twelve feet above the ground, and on which the produce of the fields is kept secure from all accidents.

On coming near one of the huts I was much amused by seeing in due form the ceremony of rubbing, or, as it ought to be called, pressing noses. The women, on our first approach, began uttering something in a most dolorous voice; they then squatted themselves down and held up their faces; my companion standing over them, one after another, placed the bridge of his nose at right angles to theirs, and commenced pressing. This lasted rather longer than a cordial shake of the hand with us, and as we vary the force of the grasp of the hand in shaking, so do they in pressing. During the process they uttered comfortable little grunts, very much in the same manner as two pigs do, when rubbing against each other. I noticed that the slave would press noses with any one he met, indifferently either before or after his master the chief. Although among the savages, the chief has absolute power of life and death over his slave, yet there is an entire absence of ceremony between them. Mr. Burchell has remarked the same thing in Southern Africa, with {respect to}/~ the rude Bachapins.

Where civilization has arrived at a certain point, as among the Tahitians, complex formalities are soon instituted between the different grades of society. For instance, in the above island, formerly all were obliged to uncover themselves as low as the waist in presence of the king.

Where civilization has arrived at a certain point, complex formalities soon arise between the different grades of society: thus at Tahiti all were formerly obliged to uncover themselves as low as the waist in presence of the king.

The ceremony of pressing noses having been duly completed with all present, we seated ourselves in a circle in the front of one of the houses/hovels, and rested there half-an-hour. All the {native hovels which I have seen}/{hovels} have nearly the same form and dimensions, and all agree in being filthily dirty. They resemble a cow-shed with one end open, but having a partition a little way within, with a square hole in it, {which thus cuts off a part, and makes}/{making} a small gloomy chamber. In this the inhabitants keep all their property, and when the weather is cold they sleep there. They eat, however, and pass their time in the open part in front. My guides having finished their pipes, we continued our walk. The path led through the same undulating country, the whole uniformly clothed as before with fern. On our right hand we had a serpentine river, the banks of which were fringed with trees, and here and there on the hill sides there {were clumps}/{was a clump} of wood. The whole scene, in spite of its green colour, bore/had rather a desolate aspect. The sight of so much fern impresses the mind with an idea of sterility: this, however, is not {the case}/{correct}; for wherever the fern grows thick and breast-high, the land by tillage becomes productive. Some of the residents {with much probability}/~ think that all this extensive open country {was originally}/{originally was} covered with forests, and that it has been cleared by {the aid of}/~ fire. It is said, that by digging in the barest spots, lumps of the kind of resin which flows from the kauri pine are frequently found. The natives had an evident motive in thus/~ clearing the country; for {in such parts}/~ the fern, formerly so/a staple article of food, flourishes {best}/{only in the open cleared tracks}.

The almost entire absence of associated grasses, which forms so remarkable a feature in the vegetation of this island, may perhaps be accounted for, by the open parts being the work of man, while nature had designed the country for forest land.

The soil is volcanic; in several parts we passed over slaggy and vesicular lavas, and the form of a crater could clearly be distinguished in several of the neighbouring hills.

The almost entire absence of associated grasses, which forms so remarkable a feature in the vegetation of this island, may perhaps be accounted for by the land having been aboriginally covered with forest-trees.

The soil is volcanic; in several parts we passed over shaggy lavas, and craters could clearly be distinguished on several of the neighbouring hills.

Although the scenery is nowhere beautiful, and only occasionally pretty, I enjoyed my walk. I should have enjoyed it more, if my companion, the chief, had not possessed extraordinary conversational powers. I knew only three words: “good” “bad” and “yes:” and with these I answered all his remarks, without of course having understood one word he said. This, however, was quite sufficient: I was a good listener, an agreeable person, and he never ceased talking to me.

At length we reached Waimate. After having passed over so many miles of an uninhabited useless country, the sudden appearance of an English farm-house, and its well-dressed fields, placed there as if by an enchanter's wand, was exceedingly pleasant. Mr. Williams not being at home, I received in Mr. Davies's house a cordial welcome. After drinking tea with his family party, we took a stroll about the farm. At Waimate there are three large houses, where the missionary gentlemen, Messrs. Williams, Davies, and Clarke, reside; and near them are the huts of the native labourers. On an adjoining slope, fine crops of barley and wheat {in full ear were standing}/{were standing in full ear}; and in another part, fields of potatoes and clover. But I cannot attempt to describe all I saw; there were large gardens, with every fruit and vegetable which England produces; and many belonging to a warmer clime. I may instance asparagus, kidney beans, cucumbers, rhubarb, apples, pears, figs, peaches, apricots, grapes, olives, gooseberries, currants, hops, gorse for fences, and English oaks; also many different/~ kinds of flowers. Around the farm-yard there were stables, a thrashing-barn with its winnowing machine, a blacksmith's forge, and on the ground ploughshares and other tools:

in the middle was that happy mixture of pigs and poultry, which may be seen so comfortably lying together in every English farm-yard. At the distance of a few hundred yards, where the water of a little rill was dammed up into a pool, a large and substantial water-mill had been erected.

in the middle was that happy mixture of pigs and poultry, lying comfortably together, as in every English farm-yard. At the distance of a few hundred yards, where the water of a little rill had been dammed up into a pool, there was a large and substantial water-mill.

All this is very surprising, when it is considered that five years ago nothing but the fern flourished here. Moreover, native workmanship, taught by the missionaries, has effected this change;—the lesson of the missionary is the enchanter's wand. The house had been built, the windows framed, the fields ploughed, and even the trees grafted, by the/a New Zealander. At the mill, a New Zealander {may be}/{was} seen powdered white with flower, like his brother miller in England. When I looked at this whole scene, I thought it admirable. It was not merely that England was brought vividly before my mind; yet, as the evening drew to a close, the domestic sounds, the fields of corn,

the distant country with its trees now appearing like pasture-land, all might well be mistaken for some part of it. Nor was it the triumphant feeling at seeing what Englishmen could effect, but it was something of far more consequence; the object for which this labour had been bestowed—the moral effect on the aborigines of this fine country.

the distant undulating country with its trees might well have been mistaken for our fatherland: nor was it the triumphant feeling at seeing what Englishmen could effect; but rather the high hopes thus inspired for the future progress of this fine island.

The missionary system here appears to me different from that of Tahiti; much more attention is there paid to religious instruction, and to the direct improvement of the mind; here, more to the arts of civilization. I do not doubt that in both cases, the same object is kept in view. Judging from the success alone, I should rather lean to the Tahiti side; probably, however, each system is best adapted to the country where it is followed. The mind of a Tahitian is certainly one of a higher order; and on the other hand, the New Zealander, not being able to pluck from the tree that shades his house the bread-fruit and banana, would naturally turn his attention with more readiness to the arts. When comparing the state of New Zealand with that of Tahiti, it should always be remembered, that from the respective forms of government of the two countries, the missionaries here have had to labour at a task, many times more difficult. The reviewer of Mr. Earle's travels in the Quarterly Journal, by pointing out a more advantageous line of conduct for the missionaries, evidently considers that too much attention has been paid to religious instruction, in proportion to other subjects. This opinion being so very different from the one at which I arrived, any third person hearing the two sides, would probably conclude, that the missionaries had been the best judges, and had chosen the right path.


Several young men were employed about the farm, who had been brought up by the missionaries; having been redeemed by them from slavery.

Several young men, redeemed by the missionaries from slavery, were employed on the farm.

They were dressed in a shirt, jacket, and trousers, and had a respectable appearance. Judging from one trifling anecdote, I should think they must be honest. When walking in the fields, a young labourer came up to Mr. Davies, and gave him a knife and gimlet, saying that he had found them on the road, and did not know to whom they belonged! These young men and boys appeared very merry and good-humoured. In the evening I saw a party of them at cricket: when I thought of the austerity of which the missionaries have been accused, I was amused by observing one of their own sons taking an active part in the game. A more decided and pleasing change was manifested in the young women, who acted as servants within the houses. Their clean, tidy, and healthy appearance, like that of the dairy-maids in England, formed a wonderful contrast with the women of the filthy hovels in Kororadika. The wives of the missionaries tried to persuade them not to be tattooed; but a famous operator having arrived from the south, they said, “We really must just have a few lines on our lips; else when we grow old, our lips will shrivel, and we shall be so very ugly.” Tattooing/There is not nearly so much practised/tattooing as formerly; but as it is a badge of distinction between the chief and the slave, it will {not probably very soon be disused}/{probably long be practised}. So soon does any train of ideas become habitual, that the missionaries told me that even in their eyes a plain face looked mean, and not like that of a New Zealand gentleman.

Late in the evening I went to Mr. Williams's house, where I passed the night. I found there a large party of children, collected together for Christmas Day, and all sitting round a table at tea. I never saw a nicer or more merry group; and to think that this was in the centre of the land of cannibalism, murder, and all atrocious crimes! The cordiality and happiness so plainly pictured in the faces of the little circle, appeared equally felt by the older persons of the mission.

December 24th.—In the morning, prayers were read in the native tongue to the whole family. After breakfast I rambled about the gardens and farm. This was a market-day, when the natives of the surrounding hamlets bring their potatoes, Indian corn, or pigs, to exchange for blankets, tobacco, and sometimes, through the persuasions of the missionaries, for soap. Mr. Davies's eldest son, who manages a farm of his own, is the man of business in the market. The children of the missionaries, who came while young to the island, understand the language better than their parents, and can get anything more readily done by the natives.

A little before noon Messrs. Williams and Davies walked with me to a part of a neighbouring forest, to show me the famous kauri pine.

I measured one of these noble trees, in a part which was not enlarged near the roots, and found it to be thirty-one feet in circumference. There was another close by, which I did not see, thirty-three; and I heard of one, no less than forty feet. The trunks are also very remarkable from their smoothness, cylindrical figure, absence of branches, and having very nearly the same girth through a length from sixty to even ninety feet. The crown of this tree, where it is irregularly branched, is small, and out of proportion to the trunk; and the foliage is likewise diminutive as compared with the branches. The forest in this part was almost composed of the Kauri; and the largest, from the parallelism of their sides, stood up like gigantic columns of wood. The timber of this tree is the most valuable product of the island: moreover, a quantity of resin oozes from the bark, which is collected and sold at a penny a pound to the Americans, but its use is kept secret.

On the outskirts of the wood, I saw the New Zealand flax growing in the swamps: this is the second most valuable export. This plant somewhat resembles (but not botanically) the common iris; the under surface of the leaf is lined by a layer of strong silky fibres; and the upper consists of green vegetable matter, which is scraped off with a broken shell, and the hemp remains in the hand of the workwoman. In the forest, besides the kauri, there are some other fine timber trees. I saw numbers of beautiful tree-ferns, and was told of palms.

I measured one of the noble trees, and found it thirty-one feet in circumference above the roots. There was another close by, which I did not see, thirty-three feet; and I heard of one no less than forty feet. These trees are remarkable for their smooth cylindrical boles, which run up to a height of sixty, and even ninety feet, with a nearly equal diameter, and without a single branch. The crown of branches at the summit is out of all proportion small to the trunk; and the leaves are likewise small compared with the branches. The forest was here almost composed of the kauri; and the largest trees, from the parallelism of their sides, stood up like gigantic columns of wood. The timber of the kauri is the most valuable production of the island; moreover, a quantity of resin oozes from the bark, which is sold at a penny a pound to the Americans, but its use was then unknown.

Some of the New Zealand forests must be impenetrable to an extraordinary degree. Mr. Matthews {gave me an account of one, which, although}/{informed me that one forest} only thirty-four miles wide, and separating two inhabited districts, {like the central forest of Chiloe, had never been passed until lately}/{had only lately, for the first time, been crossed}. He and another missionary, each with a party of about fifty men, undertook to open a road, but it cost more than a fortnight's labour! In the woods I saw very few birds. With regard to animals, it is a most remarkable fact, that so large an island, extending over more than 700 miles in latitude, and in many parts ninety broad, with varied stations, a fine climate, and land of all heights, from 14,000 feet downwards, with the exception of a small rat, did not possess one indigenous animal.


The several species of that gigantic genus of birds, the Deinornis seem here to have replaced mammiferous quadrupeds, in the same manner as the reptiles still do at the Galapagos archipelago.

It is moreover said, that the introduction of the common Norway kind, has annihilated from the northern extremity of the island, the New Zealand species, in the short space of two years.

It is said that the common Norway rat, in the short space of two years, annihilated in this northern end of the island, the New Zealand species.

In many places I noticed several sorts of weeds, which, like the rats, I was forced to own as countrymen.

A leek, however, which has overrun whole districts, and will be very troublesome, was imported lately by the favour of a French vessel.

A leek has overrun whole districts, and will prove very troublesome, but it was imported lately as a favour by a French vessel.

The common dock is ~/also widely disseminated, and will, I am afraid, for ever remain a proof of the rascality of an Englishman, who sold the seeds for those of the tobacco-plant.

On returning from our pleasant walk to the houses/house, I dined with Mr. Williams; and then, a horse being lent me, I returned to the Bay of Islands. I took leave of the missionaries with thankfulness for their kind welcome, and with feelings of high respect for their gentlemanlike, useful, and upright characters. I think it would be difficult to find a body of men better adapted for the high office which they fulfil.

Christmas Day.—In a few more days the fourth year of our absence from England will be completed. Our first Christmas Day was spent at Plymouth, the second at St. Martin's Cove, near Cape Horn; the third at Port Desire, in Patagonia; the fourth at anchor in {the}/{a wild harbour in the peninsula of} Tres Montes, this fifth here, and the next, I trust in Providence, will be in England. We attended divine service in the chapel of Pahia; part of the service being read in English, and part in the native language.

As far as I was able to understand, the greater number of people in this northern part of the island profess Christianity. It is curious, that the religion even of those who do not profess it, has been modified and is now partly Christian, partly heathen. Moreover, so excellent is the Christian faith, that the outward conduct even of the unbelievers is said to have been decidedly improved by the spread of its doctrines. It is beyond doubt, however, that much immorality still exists;—that there are many who would not hesitate to kill a slave for a trifling offence; and that polygamy is still common,—indeed, I believe, general.


We/{Whilst at New Zealand we} did not hear of any recent acts of cannibalism; but Mr. Stokes found burnt human bones strewed round {an old}/a fire-place on a small island near the anchorage; but/~ these remains of a comfortable banquet might{, indeed,}/~ have been lying there for several years. {Notwithstanding the above facts, it}/It is probable that the moral state of the people will rapidly improve. Mr. Bushby mentioned one pleasing anecdote as a proof of the sincerity of some, at least, of those who profess Christianity. One of his young men left him, who had been accustomed to read prayers to the rest of the servants. Some weeks afterwards, happening to pass late in the evening by an outhouse, he saw and heard one of his men reading the Bible with difficulty by the light of the fire, to the others. After this the party knelt and prayed: in their prayers they mentioned Mr. Bushby and his family, and the missionaries, each separately in his respective district.

December 26th.—Mr. Bushby offered to take Mr. Sulivan and myself in his boat some miles up the river to Cawa-Cawa, and proposed afterwards to walk on to the village of Waiomio, where there are some curious rocks. Following one of the arms of the bay, we enjoyed a pleasant row, and passed through pretty scenery, until we came to a village, beyond which the boat could not proceed/pass. From this place a chief and a party of men volunteered to walk with us to Waiomio, a distance of four miles. The chief was at this time rather notorious from having lately hung one of his wives and a slave for adultery. When one of the missionaries remonstrated with him he seemed surprised, and said he thought he was exactly following the English method. Old Shongi, who happened to be in England during the Queen's trial, expressed great disapprobation at the whole proceeding: he said he had five wives, and he would rather cut off all their heads than be so much troubled about one. Leaving this village, we crossed over to another, seated on a hill-side at a little distance. The daughter of a chief, who was still a heathen, had died there five days before. The hovel in which she had expired had been burnt to the ground: her body being enclosed between two small canoes, was placed upright on the ground, and protected by an enclosure bearing wooden images of their gods, and the whole was painted bright red, so as to be conspicuous from afar. Her gown was fastened to the coffin, and her hair being cut off was cast at its foot. The relatives of the family had torn the flesh of their arms, bodies, and faces, so that they were covered with clotted blood; and the old women looked most filthy, disgusting objects. On the following day some of the officers visited this place, and found the women still howling and cutting themselves.

We continued our walk, and soon reached Waiomio. Here there are some singular masses of limestone, resembling ruined castles. These rocks have long served for burial places, and in consequence are held sacred/{too sacred to be approached}. One of the young men{~}/{, however,} cried out, “Let us all be brave” and ran on ahead; but when within a hundred yards, the whole party thought better of it, and stopped short. With perfect indifference, however, they allowed us to examine the whole place. At this village we rested some hours, during which time there was a long discussion with Mr. Bushby, concerning the right of sale of certain lands. One old man, who appeared a perfect genealogist, illustrated the successive possessors by bits of stick driven into the ground. Before leaving the houses a little basketful of roasted sweet potatoes was given to each of our party; and we all, according to the custom, carried them away to eat on the road. I noticed that among the women employed in cooking, there was a man-slave: it must be a humiliating thing for a man in this warlike country to be employed in doing that which is considered as the lowest woman's work. Slaves are not allowed to go to war; but this perhaps can hardly be considered as a hardship. I heard of one poor wretch who, during hostilities, ran away to the opposite party; being met by two men, he was immediately seized; but as they could not agree to whom he should belong, each stood over him with a stone hatchet, and seemed determined that the other at least should not take him away alive. The poor man, almost dead with fright, was only saved by the address of a chief's wife. We afterwards enjoyed a pleasant walk back to the boat, but did not reach the ship till late in the evening.

December 30th.—In the afternoon we stood out of the Bay of Islands, on our course to Sydney. I believe we were all glad to leave New Zealand. It is not a pleasant place. Amongst the natives there is absent that charming simplicity which is found in Tahiti; and the greater part of the English are the very refuse of society. Neither is the country itself attractive. I look back but to one bright spot, and that is Waimate, with its Christian inhabitants.



Sydney—Prosperity—Excursion to Bathurst—Aspect of woods—Party of Natives—Gradual extinction of aborigines—Blue Mountains—Weatherboard—View of a grand gulf-like valley—Sheep farm—Lion-ant—Bathurst, general civility of lower orders—State of society—Van Diemen's Land—Hobart Town—Aborigines all banished—Mount Wellington—King George's Sound—Cheerless aspect of country—Bald Head, calcareous casts like branches of trees—Party of natives—Leave Australia.



Sydney—Excursion to Bathurst—Aspect of the Woods—Party of Natives—Gradual Extinction of the Aborigines—Infection generated by associated Men in health—Blue Mountains—View of the grand gulf-like Valleys—Their origin and formation—Bathurst, general civility of the Lower Orders—State of Society—Van Diemen's Land—Hobart Town—Aborigines all banished—Mount Wellington—King George's Sound—Cheerless Aspect of the Country—Bald Head, calcareous casts of branches of Trees—Party of Natives—Leave Australia.

JANUARY 12th, 1836.—Early in the morning a light air carried us towards the entrance of Port Jackson. Instead of beholding a verdant country, {scattered over}/{interspersed} with fine houses, a straight line of yellowish cliff brought to our minds the coast of Patagonia. A solitary lighthouse, built of white stone, alone told us ~/that we were near a great and populous city.

Having entered the harbour, it appeared fine and spacious; but the level country, showing on the cliff-formed shores bare and horizontal strata of sandstone, was covered by woods of thin scrubby trees, that bespoke useless sterility.

Having entered the harbour, it appears fine and spacious, with cliff-formed shores of horizontally stratified sandstone. The nearly level country is covered with thin scrubby trees, bespeaking the curse of sterility.

Proceeding further inland, the country improved/improves: beautiful villas and nice cottages were/are here and there scattered along the beach. In the distance stone houses, two and three stories high, and windmills standing on the edge of a bank, pointed out to us the neighbourhood of the capital of Australia.

At last we anchored within Sydney Cove. We found the little basin occupied by many large ships, and surrounded by warehouses. In the evening I walked through the town, and returned full of admiration at the whole scene. It is a most magnificent testimony to the power of the British nation. Here, in a less promising country, scores of years have done many more times more than an equal number of centuries have done/effected in South America. My first feeling was to congratulate myself that I was born an Englishman. Upon seeing more of the town afterwards, perhaps my admiration fell a little; but yet it is a fine town. The streets are regular, broad, clean, and kept in excellent order; the houses are of a good size, and the shops well furnished. It may be faithfully compared to the large suburbs which stretch out from London and a few other great towns in England; but not even near London or Birmingham is there an appearance of such rapid growth. The number of large houses and other buildings just finished was truly surprising; nevertheless, every one complained of the high rents and difficulty in procuring a house.

In the streets, gigs, phaetons, and carriages with livery servants, were driving about; and of the latter, many were extremely well equipped.


Coming from South America, where in the towns every man of property is known, no one thing surprised me more than not being able to ascertain at once to whom this or that carriage belonged.

Many of the older residents say, that formerly they knew every face in the colony, but now that in a morning's ride it is a chance if they know one. Sydney has a population of twenty-three thousand, and is rapidly increasing: it must contain much wealth. It appears that a man of business can hardly fail to make a large fortune. I saw on all sides fine houses,—one built from the profits of steam-vessels,—another from building, and so on. An auctioneer, who was a convict, it is said, intends to return home, and will take with him 100,000 pounds. Another has an income so large that scarcely any body ventures to guess at it—the least sum assigned being fifteen thousand a year. But the two crowning facts are,—first, that the public revenue has increased 60,000l. during this last year; and secondly, that less than an acre of land within the town of Sydney sold for 8000l. sterling.

I hired a man and two horses to take me to Bathurst, a village about one hundred and twenty miles in the interior, and the centre of a great pastoral district. By this means I hoped to get/gain a general idea of the appearance of the country. On the morning of the 16th (January) I set out on my excursion. The first stage took us to Paramatta, a small country town, {second to}/{next} to Sydney in importance. The roads were excellent, and made upon the MacAdam principle, whinstone having been brought for the purpose from the distance of several miles.

The road appeared much frequented by all sorts of carriages; and I met two stage-coaches.


In all these/~ respects there was a close resemblance to England: perhaps the {number of}/~ alehouses here were {in excess}/{more numerous}. The iron gangs, or parties of convicts who have committed here some offense, appeared the least like England: they were working in chains, under the charge of sentries with loaded arms.

The power which the government possesses, by means of forced labour, of at once opening good roads throughout the country, has been, I believe, one main cause of the early prosperity of this colony. I slept at night at a very comfortable inn at Emu ferry, thirty-five miles from Sydney, and near the ascent of the Blue Mountains. This line of road is the most frequented, and has been the longest inhabited of any in the colony. The whole land is enclosed with high railings, for the farmers have not succeeded in rearing hedges. There are many substantial houses and good cottages scattered about; but although considerable pieces of land are under cultivation, the greater part yet remains as when first discovered.

Making allowances for the cleared parts, the country here resembled all that I saw during the ten succeeding days.


The extreme uniformity of the vegetation is the most remarkable feature in the landscape of the greater part of New South Wales. Everywhere we have an open woodland, the ground being partially covered with a very thin pasture, with little appearance of verdure. The trees nearly all belong to one family, and mostly have their leaves placed in a vertical, instead of as in Europe, in a nearly horizontal position: the foliage is scanty, and of a peculiar pale green tint, without any gloss. Hence the woods appear light and shadowless: this, although a loss of comfort to the traveller under the scorching rays of summer, is of importance to the farmer, as it allows grass to grow where it otherwise could/would not. The leaves are not shed periodically: this character appears common to the entire southern hemisphere, namely, South America, Australia, and the Cape of Good Hope. The inhabitants of this hemisphere, and of the intertropical regions, thus lose perhaps one of the most glorious, though to our eyes common, spectacles in the world—the first bursting into full foliage of the leafless tree. They may, however, say that we pay dearly for {our spectacle}/{this} by having the land covered with mere naked skeletons for so many months. This is too true but our senses thus acquire a keen relish for the exquisite green of the spring, which the eyes of those living within the tropics, sated during the long year with the gorgeous productions of those glowing climates, can never experience. The greater number of the trees, with the exception of some of the Blue-gums, do not attain a large size; but they grow tall and tolerably straight, and stand well apart.

The bark of some falls annually, or hangs dead in long shreds, which swing about with the wind; and hence the woods appear desolate and untidy. Nowhere is there an appearance of verdure, but rather that of arid sterility.

The bark of some of the Eucalypti falls annually, or hangs dead in long shreds which swing about with the wind, and give to the woods a desolate and untidy appearance.

I cannot imagine a more complete contrast, in every respect, than between the forests of Valdivia or Chiloe, and the woods of Australia.

Although this colony flourishes so remarkably, the appearance of infertility is to a certain degree real. The soil without doubt is good, but there is so great a deficiency both of rain and running water, that it cannot produce much. The agricultural crops, and often those in gardens, are estimated to fail once in three years; and this has even happened on successive years. Hence the colony cannot supply itself with the bread and vegetables, which its inhabitants consume. It is essentially pastoral, and chiefly so for sheep, and not the larger quadrupeds. The alluvial land near Emu ferry was some of the best cultivated which I saw; and certainly the scenery on the banks of the Nepean, bounded to the west by the Blue Mountains, was pleasing even to the eye of a person thinking of England.


At sunset, a party of a score of the black aborigines passed by, each carrying, in their accustomed manner, a bundle of spears and other weapons. By giving a leading young man a shilling, they were easily detained, and threw their spears for my amusement. They were all partly clothed, and several could speak a little English: their countenances were good-humoured and pleasant, and they appeared far from being such utterly degraded beings as they have usually been represented. In their own arts they are admirable. A cap being fixed at thirty yards distance, they transfixed it with a spear, delivered by the throwing-stick with the rapidity of an arrow from the bow of a practised archer. In tracking animals or men they show most wonderful sagacity; and I heard of several of their remarks which manifested considerable acuteness. They will not, however, cultivate the ground, or build houses and remain stationary, or even take the trouble of tending a flock of sheep when given to them. On the whole they appear to me to stand some few degrees higher in the scale of civilization than the Fuegians.

It is very curious thus to see in the midst of a civilized people, a set of harmless savages wandering about without knowing where they shall sleep at night, and gaining their livelihood by hunting in the woods. As the white man has travelled onwards, he has spread over the country belonging to several tribes. These, although thus enclosed by one common people, keep up their ancient distinctions, and sometimes go to war with each other. In an engagement which took place lately, the two parties most singularly chose the centre of the village of Bathurst for the field of battle. This was of service to the defeated side, for the runaway warriors took refuge in the barracks.

The number of aborigines is rapidly decreasing. In my whole ride, with the exception of some boys brought up by Englishmen, I saw only one other party.

These were rather more numerous than the first, and not so well clothed.


This decrease, no doubt, must be partly owing to the introduction of spirits, to European diseases (even the milder ones of which, ~/such as the measles,* prove very destructive), and to the gradual extinction of the wild animals.

* It is remarkable how the same disease is modified in different climates. At the little island of St. Helena the introduction of scarlet fever is dreaded as a plague. In some countries, foreigners and natives are as differently affected by certain contagious disorders as if they had been different animals; of which fact some instances have occurred in Chile; and, according to Humboldt, in Mexico (Polit. Essay {On Kingdom of}/{,} New Spain, vol. iv.).

It is said that numbers of their children invariably perish in very early infancy from the effects of their wandering life{. As}/{; and as} the difficulty of procuring food increases, so must their wandering habits ~/increase; and hence the population, without any apparent deaths from famine, is repressed in a manner extremely sudden compared to what happens in civilized countries,

where the father may add to his labour, without destroying his offspring.

where the father, though in adding to his labour he may injure himself, does not destroy his offspring.

* It is remarkable how the same disease is modified in different climates. At the little island of St. Helena the introduction of scarlet fever is dreaded as a plague. In some countries, foreigners and natives are as differently affected by certain contagious disorders as if they had been different animals; of which fact some instances have occurred in Chile; and, according to Humboldt, in Mexico (Polit. Essay, New Spain, vol. iv.).

Besides these/the several evident causes of destruction, there appears to be some more mysterious agency generally at work. Wherever the European has trod, death seems to pursue the aboriginal. We may look to the wide extent of the Americas, Polynesia, the Cape of Good Hope, and Australia, and we shall/~ find the same result. Nor is it the white man alone that thus acts the destroyer; the Polynesian of Malay extraction has in parts of the East Indian archipelago, thus driven before him the dark-coloured native. The varieties of man seem to act on each other in the same way as different species of animals—the stronger always extirpating the weaker. It was melancholy at New Zealand to hear the fine energetic natives saying that they knew the land was doomed to pass from their children. Every one has heard of the inexplicable reduction of the population in the beautiful and healthy island of Tahiti since the date of Captain Cook's voyages: although in that case we might have expected that it would have been increased; for infanticide, which formerly prevailed to so extraordinary a degree, has ceased~/{; profligacy has greatly diminished}, and the murderous wars become less frequent.

The Rev. J. Williams, in his interesting work,* says, that the first intercourse between natives and Europeans, “is invariably attended with the introduction of fever, dysentery, or some other disease, which carries off numbers of the people.” Again he affirms, “It is certainly a fact, which cannot be controverted, that most of the diseases which have raged in the islands during my residence there, have been introduced by ships;† and what renders this fact remarkable is, that there might be no appearance of disease among the crew of the ship which conveyed this destructive importation.” This statement is not quite so extraordinary as it at first appears; for several cases are on record of the most malignant fevers having broken out, although the parties themselves, who were the cause, were not affected. In the early part of the reign of George III., a prisoner who had been confined in a dungeon, was taken in a coach with four constables before a magistrate; and although the man himself was not ill, the four constables died from a short putrid fever; but the contagion extended to no others. From these facts it would almost appear as if the effluvium of one set of men shut up for some time together was poisonous when inhaled by others; and possibly more so, if the men be of different races. Mysterious as this circumstance appears to be, it is not more surprising than that the body of one's fellow-creature, directly after death, and before putrefaction has commenced, should often be of so deleterious a quality, that the mere puncture from an instrument used in its dissection, should prove fatal.

* Narrative of Missionary Enterprise, p. 282.

† Captain Beechey (chap. iv., vol. i.) states that the inhabitants of Pitcairn Island are firmly convinced that after the arrival of every ship they suffer cutaneous and other disorders. Captain Beechey attributes this to the change of diet during the time of the visit. Dr. Macculloch (Western Isles, vol. ii. p. 32) says: “It is asserted, that on the arrival of a stranger (at St. Kilda) all the inhabitants, in the common phraseology, catch a cold.” Dr. Macculloch considers the whole case, although often previously affirmed, as ludicrous. He adds, however, that “the question was put by us to the inhabitants who unanimously agreed in the story.” In Vancouver's Voyage, there is a somewhat similar statement with respect to Otaheite. Dr. Dieffenbach, in a note to his translation of the Journal, states that the same fact is universally believed by the inhabitants of the Chatham Islands, and in parts of New Zealand. It is impossible that such a belief should have become universal in the northern hemisphere, at the Antipodes, and in the Pacific, without some good foundation. Humboldt (Polit. Essay on King of New Spain, vol. iv.) says, that the great epidemics of Panama and Callao are “marked” by the arrival of ships from Chile, because the people from that temperate region, first experience the fatal effects of the torrid zones. I may add, that I have heard it stated in Shropshire, that sheep, which have been imported from vessels, although themselves in a healthy condition, if placed in the same fold with others, frequently produce sickness in the flock.

{January 17th}/{17th}.—Early in the morning we passed the Nepean in a ferry-boat. The river, although at this spot both broad and deep, had a very small body of running water. Having crossed a low piece of land on the opposite side, we reached the slope of the Blue Mountains. The ascent is not steep, the road having been cut with much care on the side of a sandstone cliff. {At no great elevation}/{On the summit} an almost level plain extends, which, rising imperceptibly to the westward, at last attains a height of more than 3000 feet. From so grand a title as Blue Mountains, and from their absolute altitude, I expected to have seen a bold chain of mountains crossing the country; but instead of this, a sloping plain presents merely an inconsiderable front to the low land near the coast. From this first slope, the view of the extensive woodland to the east was striking, and the surrounding trees grew bold and lofty. But when once on the sandstone platform, the scenery becomes exceedingly monotonous; each side of the road is bordered by scrubby trees of the never-failing Eucalyptus family; and with the exception of two or three small inns, there are no houses or cultivated land: the road, moreover, is solitary; the most frequent object being a bullock-waggon, piled up with bales of wool.

In the middle of the day we baited our horses at a little inn, called the Weatherboard. The country here is elevated 2800 feet above the sea. About a mile and a half from this place there is a view exceedingly well worth visiting. {By following}/{Following} down a little valley and its tiny rill of water, an immense gulf {is unexpedtedly seen}/{unexpectedly opens} through the trees which border the pathway, at the depth of perhaps 1500 feet. Walking on a few yards, one stands on the brink of a vast precipice, and below {is the}/{one sees} a grand bay or gulf, for I know not what other name to give it, thickly covered with forest. The point of view is situated as if at the head of a bay, the line of cliff diverging on each side, and showing headland behind headland, as on a bold sea-coast. These cliffs are composed of horizontal strata of whitish sandstone; and ~/are so absolutely vertical {are they}/~, that in many places a person standing on the edge and throwing down a stone, can see it strike the trees in the abyss below. So unbroken is the line of cliff, that {it is said}/~ in order to reach the foot of the waterfall, formed by this little stream, it is ~/{said to be} necessary to go {a distance of}/~ sixteen miles round. About five miles distant in front, another line of cliff extends, which thus appears completely to encircle the valley; and hence the name of bay is justified, as applied to this grand amphitheatrical depression. If we imagine a winding harbour, with its deep water surrounded by bold cliff-like shores, ~/{to be} laid dry, and a forest sprung/{to spring} up on its sandy bottom, we should then have the appearance and structure here exhibited. This kind of view was to me quite novel, and extremely magnificent.

In the evening we reached the Blackheath. The sandstone plateau has here attained the elevation/height of 3400 feet; and is covered, as before, with the same {kind of}/~ scrubby wood/woods. From the road, there were occasional glimpses into a profound valley, of the same character as the one described; but from the steepness and depth of its sides, the bottom was scarcely ever to be seen. The Blackheath is a very comfortable inn, kept by an old soldier; and it reminded me of the small inns in North Wales.

I was surprised to find that here, at the distance of more than seventy miles from Sydney, fifteen beds could be made up for travellers.


January 18th.—Very early in the morning, I walked about three miles to see Govett's Leap; a view of a similar but even perhaps more stupendous character than that near the Weatherboard.

18th.—Very early in the morning, I walked about three miles to see Govett's Leap; a view of a similar character with that near the Weatherboard, but perhaps even more stupendous.

So early in the day the gulf was filled with a thin blue haze, which, although destroying the general effect ~/{of the view} added to the apparent depth at which the forest was stretched {below the country on which we were standing}/{out beneath our feet}.


These valleys, which so long presented an insuperable barrier to the attempts of the most enterprising of the colonists to reach the interior, are most remarkable. Great arm-like bays, expanding at their upper ends, often branch from the main valleys and penetrate the sandstone platform; on the other hand, the platform often sends promontories into the valleys, and even leaves in them great, almost insulated, masses. To descend into some of these valleys, it is necessary to go round twenty miles; and into others, the surveyors have only lately penetrated, and the colonists have not yet been able to drive in their cattle. But the most remarkable feature in their structure is, that although several miles wide at their heads, they generally contract towards their mouths to such a degree as to become impassable. The Surveyor-General, Sir T. Mitchell,* endeavoured in vain, first walking and then by crawling between the great fallen fragments of sandstone, to ascend through the gorge by which the river Grose joins the Nepean, yet the valley of the Grose in its upper part, as I saw, forms a magnificent level basin some miles in width, and is on all sides surrounded by cliffs, the summits of which are believed to be nowhere less than 3000 feet above the level of the sea. When cattle are driven into the valley of the Wolgan by a path (which I descended), partly natural and partly made by the owner of the land, they cannot escape; for this valley is in every other part surrounded by perpendicular cliffs, and eight miles lower down, it contracts from an average width of half a mile, to a mere chasm, impassable to man or beast. Sir T. Mitchell states that the great valley of the Cox river with all its branches, contracts, where it unites with the Nepean, into a gorge 2200 yards in width, and about 1000 feet in depth. Other similar cases might have been added.

* Travels in Australia, vol. i. p. 154. I must express my obligation to Sir T. Mitchell, for several interesting personal communications on the subject of these great valleys of New South Wales.

The first impression, on seeing the correspondence of the horizontal strata on each side of these valleys and great amphitheatrical depressions, is that they have been hollowed out, like other valleys, by the action of water; but when one reflects on the enormous amount of stone, which on this view must have been removed through mere gorges or chasms, one is led to ask whether these spaces may not have subsided. But considering the form of the irregularly branching valleys, and of the narrow promontories projecting into them from the platforms, we are compelled to abandon this notion. To attribute these hollows to the present alluvial action would be preposterous; nor does the drainage from the summit-level always fall, as I remarked near the Weatherboard, into the head of these valleys, but into one side of their bay-like recesses. Some of the inhabitants remarked to me that they never viewed one of those bay-like recesses, with the headlands receding on both hands, without being struck with their resemblance to a bold sea-coast. This is certainly the case; moreover, on the present coast of New South Wales, the numerous, fine, widely-branching harbours, which are generally connected with the sea by a narrow mouth worn through the sandstone coast-cliffs, varying from one mile in width to a quarter of a mile, present a likeness, though on a miniature scale, to the great valleys of the interior. But then immediately occurs the startling difficulty, why has the sea worn out these great, though circumscribed depressions on a wide platform, and left mere gorges at the openings, through which the whole vast amount of triturated matter must have been carried away? The only light I can throw upon this enigma, is by remarking that banks of the most irregular forms appear to be now forming in some seas, as in parts of the West Indies and in the Red Sea, and that their sides are exceedingly steep. Such banks, I have been led to suppose, have been formed by sediment heaped by strong currents on an irregular bottom. That in some cases the sea, instead of spreading out sediment in a uniform sheet, heaps it round submarine rocks and islands, it is hardly possible to doubt, after examining the charts of the West Indies; and that the waves have power to form high and precipitous cliffs, even in land-locked harbours, I have noticed in many parts of South America. To apply these ideas to the sandstone platforms of New South Wales, I imagine that the strata were heaped by the action of strong currents, and of the undulations of an open sea, on an irregular bottom; and that the valley-like spaces thus left unfilled had their steeply sloping flanks worn into cliffs, during a slow elevation of the land; the worn-down sandstone being removed, either at the time when the narrow gorges were cut by the retreating sea, or subsequently by alluvial action.

Soon after leaving the Blackheath, we descended from the sandstone platform by the pass of Mount Victoria. To effect this pass, an enormous quantity of stone has been cut through; the design, and its manner of execution, {would have been}/{being} worthy of any line of road in England{,—even that of Holyhead}/~. We now entered upon a country less elevated by nearly a thousand feet, and consisting of granite. With the change of rock, the vegetation improved, the trees were both finer and stood farther apart; and the pasture between them was a little greener and more plentiful. At Hassan's Walls, I left the high road, and made a short detour to a farm called Walerawang; to the superintendent of which I had a letter of introduction from the owner in Sydney. Mr. Browne had the kindness to ask me to stay the ensuing day, which I had much pleasure in doing. This place offers an example of one of the large farming, or rather sheep-grazing establishments of the colony. Cattle and horses are, however, in this case rather more numerous than usual, owing to some of the valleys being swampy and producing a coarser pasture.

The sheep were 15,000 in number, of which the greater part were feeding under the care of different shepherds, on unoccupied ground, at the distance of more than a hundred miles, and beyond the limits of the colony. Mr. Browne had just finished, this day, the last of the shearing of seven thousand sheep; the rest being sheared in another place. I believe the profit of the average produce of wool from 15,000 sheep, would be more than 5000l. sterling.


Two or three flat pieces of ground near the house were cleared and cultivated with corn, which the harvest-men were now reaping: but no more wheat is sown than sufficient for the annual support of the labourers employed on the establishment. The usual number of assigned convict-servants here is about forty, but at the present time there were rather more. Although the farm was well stocked with every requisite/necessary, there was an apparent absence of comfort; and not {even a}/{one} single woman resided here. The sunset of a fine day will generally cast an air of happy contentment on any scene; but here, at this retired farm-house, the brightest tints on the surrounding woods could not make me forget that forty hardened, profligate men were ceasing from their daily labours, like the slaves from Africa, yet without their just/holy claim for compassion.

Early on the next morning, Mr. Archer, the joint superintendent, had the kindness to take me out kangaroo-hunting. We continued riding the greater part of the day, but had very bad sport, not seeing a kangaroo, or even a wild dog. The greyhounds pursued a kangaroo rat into a hollow tree, out of which we dragged it: it is an animal as large as a rabbit, but with the figure of a kangaroo. A few years since this country abounded with wild animals; but now the emu is banished to a long distance, and the kangaroo is become scarce; to both the English greyhound {is utterly}/{has been highly} destructive. It may be long before these animals are altogether exterminated, but their doom is fixed. The natives/aborigines are always anxious to borrow the dogs from the farm-houses: the use of them, the offal when an animal is killed, and some milk from the cows, are the peace-offerings of the settlers, who push {further and further}/{farther and farther} towards the interior. The thoughtless aboriginal, blinded by these trifling advantages, is delighted at the approach of the white man, who seems predestined to inherit the country of his children.

Although having poor sport, we enjoyed a pleasant ride. The woodland is generally so open that a person on horseback can gallop through it. It is traversed by a few flat-bottomed valleys, which are green and free from trees: in such spots the scenery was ~/pretty like that of a park{, and pretty}/~. In the whole country I scarcely saw a place without the marks of a fire; whether these had been more or less recent—whether the stumps were more or less black, was the greatest change which varied the uniformity, so wearisome to the traveller's eye. In these woods there are not many birds; I saw, however, some large flocks of the white cockatoo feeding in a corn-field, and a few most beautiful parrots; crows, like our jackdaws were not uncommon, and another bird something like the magpie.

The English have not been very particular in giving names to the productions of Australia; trees of one genus (Casuarina) are called oaks for no one reason that I can discover, without it is that there is no one point of resemblance. Some quadrupeds are called tigers and hyenas, simply because they are carnivorous, and so on in many other cases.


In the dusk of the evening I took a stroll along a chain of ponds, which in this dry country represented the course of a river, and had the good fortune to see several of the famous {Platypus, or}/~ Ornithorhynchus paradoxus. They were diving and playing about the surface of the water, but showed so little of their bodies, that they might easily have been mistaken for water-rats. Mr. Browne shot one: certainly it is a most extraordinary animal; the/a stuffed {speciments do}/{specimen does} not at all give a good idea of the recent/~ appearance of the head and beak{; the latter becoming hard and contracted{/{ when fresh; the latter becoming hard and contracted.*}

A little time before this I had been lying on a sunny bank, and was reflecting on the strange character of the animals of this country as compared with the rest of the world. An unbeliever in every thing beyond his own reason might exclaim, “Two distinct Creators must have been at work; their object, however, has been the same, and certainly the end in each case is complete.”


While thus thinking, I observed the hollow conical pitfall of the lion-ant: first a fly fell down the treacherous slope and immediately disappeared; then came a large but unwary ant; its struggles to escape being very violent, those curious little jets of sand, described by Kirby* as being flirted by the insects tail, were promptly directed against the expected victim. But the ant enjoyed a better fate than the fly, and escaped the fatal jaws which lay concealed at the base of the conical hollow. There can be no doubt but that this predacious larva belongs to the same genus with the European kind, though to a different species. Now what would the sceptic say to this? Would any two workmen ever have hit upon so beautiful, so simple, and yet so artificial a contrivance? It cannot be thought so: one Hand has surely worked throughout the universe.

* Kirby's Entomology, vol. i., p. 425. The Australian pitfall is only about half the size of the one made by the European species.

* I was interested by finding here the hollow conical pitfall of the lion-ant, or some other insect; first a fly fell down the treacherous slope and immediately disappeared; then came a large but unwary ant; its struggles to escape being very violent, those curious little jets of sand, described by Kirby and Spence (Entomol., vol. i. p. 425) as being flirted by the insect's tail, were promptly directed against the expected victim. But the ant enjoyed a better fate than the fly, and escaped the fatal jaws which lay concealed at the base of the conical hollow. This Australian pitfall was only about half the size of that made by the European lion-ant.

{January 20th}/{20th}.—A long day's ride to Bathurst. Before joining the highroad we followed a mere path through the forest; and the country, with the exception of a few squatters' huts, was very solitary.

A “squatter” is a freed, or “ticket of leave” man, who builds a hut with bark on unoccupied ground, buys or steals a few animals, sells spirits without a licence, receives stolen goods,—and so at last becomes rich and turns farmer: he is the horror of all his honest neighbours. A “crawler” is an assigned convict, who runs away, and lives how he can, by labour and petty theft. The “bush ranger” is an open villain, who subsists by highway robbery and plunder: generally he is desperate, and will sooner be killed than taken alive. In the country it is necessary to understand these three names, for they are in common use.


{This day we experienced}/{We experienced this day} the sirocco-like wind of Australia, which comes from the parched deserts of the interior. Clouds of dust were travelling in every direction; and the wind felt {like that which}/{as if it} had passed over a fire. I afterwards heard that the thermometer out of doors ~/had stood at 119°, and in a {room in a closed house}/{closed room} at 96°. In the afternoon we came in view of the downs of Bathurst. These undulating but nearly level/smooth plains are very remarkable in this country, from being absolutely destitute of {a single tree}/{trees}. They support only a thin brown pasture. We rode some miles {across this kind of}/{over this} country, and then reached the township of Bathurst, {which is}/~ seated in the middle of what may be called either a very broad valley, or narrow plain.

Bathurst has a singular and not very inviting appearance. Groups of small houses and a few large ones are scattered rather thickly over two or three miles of a bare country, which is divided into numerous fields by lines of rails. A good many gentlemen live in the neighbourhood, and some possess very comfortable houses. A hideous little red brick church stands by itself on a hill; and barracks and government buildings occupy the centre of the township.


I was told ~/{at Sydney} not to form too bad an opinion of {the country}/{Australia} by judging of the country from {that on}/~ the roadside, nor too good a one from Bathurst; in this latter respect, I did not feel myself in the least danger of being prejudiced. {It must be confessed that the season}/{The season, it must be owned,} had been one of great drought, and the country did not wear a favourable aspect; although I understand it was incomparably worse two or three months before. The secret of the rapidly growing prosperity of Bathurst is, that the brown pasture which appears to the stranger's eye so wretched, is excellent for sheep-grazing. The town stands~/{, at the height of 2200 feet above the sea,} on the banks of the Macquarie. This is one of the rivers {whose waters flow}/{flowing} into the vast and scarcely known interior. The line of water-shed, which divides the inland streams from those on the coast, has {an elevation}/{a height} of about 3000 feet {(Bathurst is 2000)]/~, and runs in a north and south direction at the distance of from eighty or/to a hundred miles from the sea-side. The Macquarie figures in the map as a respectable river, and it is the largest of those {that drain this part of the inland slope}/{draining this part of the water-shed}; yet to my surprise I found it a mere chain of ponds, separated from each other by spaces almost dry. Generally a small stream is running; and sometimes there are high and impetuous floods. Scanty as the supply of the water is throughout this district, it becomes still scantier further inland.

{January 22nd}/{22nd}.—I commenced my return, and followed a new road called Lockyer's Line, along which the country is rather more hilly and picturesque. This was a long day's ride; and the house where I wished to sleep was some way off the road, and not easily found. I met on this occasion, and indeed on all others, a very general and ready civility among the lower orders, which, when one considers what they are, and what they have been, would scarcely have been expected. The farm where I passed the night, was owned by two young men who had only lately come out, and were beginning a settler's life. The total want of almost every comfort was not attractive; but future and certain prosperity was before their eyes, and that not far distant.

The next day we passed through large tracts of country in flames, volumes of smoke sweeping across the road. Before noon we joined our former track/road, and ascended Mount Victoria. I slept at the Weatherboard, and before dark took another walk to the amphitheatre. On the road to Sydney I spent a very pleasant evening with Captain King at Dunheved; and thus ended my little excursion in the colony of New South Wales.

Before arriving here the three things which interested me most were—the state of society amongst the higher classes, the condition of the convicts, and the degree of attraction sufficient to induce persons to emigrate. Of course, after so very short a visit, one's opinion is worth scarcely anything; but it is as difficult not to form some opinion, as it is to form a correct judgment. On the whole, from what I heard, more than from what I saw, I was disappointed in the state of society. The whole community is rancorously divided into parties on almost every subject. Among those who, from their station in life, ought to be the best, many live in such open profligacy that respectable people cannot associate with them. There is much jealousy between the children of the rich emancipist and the free settlers, the former being pleased to consider honest men as interlopers. The whole population, poor and rich, are bent on acquiring wealth: amongst the higher orders, wool and sheep-grazing form the constant subject of conversation.

The very low ebb of literature is strongly marked by the emptiness of the booksellers' shops; for they are inferior even to those in the smaller country-towns of England.


There are many serious drawbacks to the comforts of families/{a family}, the chief of which, perhaps, is being surrounded by convict servants. How thoroughly odious to every feeling, to be waited on by a man who the day before, perhaps, was flogged, from your representation, for some trifling misdemeanor. The female servants are of course, much worse: hence children learn the vilest expressions, and it is fortunate, if not equally vile ideas.

On the other hand, the capital of a person, without any trouble on his part, produces him treble interest to what it will in England; and with care he is sure to grow rich. The luxuries of life are in abundance, and very little dearer ~/{than in England}, and most articles of food are cheaper {than in England}/~. The climate is splendid, and qute/perfectly healthy; but to my mind its charms are lost by the uninviting aspect of the country. Settlers possess a great advantage in finding their sons of service when very young. At the age of from sixteen to twenty, they frequently take charge of distant farming stations. This, however, must happen at the expense of their boys associating entirely with convict servants. I am not aware that the tone of society has assumed any peculiar character; but with such habits, and without intellectual pursuits, it can hardly fail to deteriorate. My opinion is such, that nothing but rather sharp necessity should compel me to emigrate.

The rapid prosperity and future prospects of this colony are to me, not understanding these subjects, very puzzling. The two main exports are wool and whale-oil, and to both of these productions there is a limit. The country is totally unfit for canals, therefore there is a {line not very distant}/{not very distant point}, beyond which the land-carriage of wool will not repay the expense of shearing and tending sheep. Pasture everywhere is so thin that settlers have already pushed far into the interior: moreover, the country further inland becomes extremely poor. {I have before said that agriculture}/{Agriculture, on account of the droughts,} can never succeed on an extended scale: therefore, so far as I can see, Australia must ultimately depend upon being the centre of commerce for the southern hemisphere, and perhaps on her future manufactories. Possessing coal, she always has the moving power at hand. From the habitable country extending along the coast, and from her English extraction, she is sure to be a maritime nation. I formerly imagined that Australia would rise to be as grand and powerful a country as North America, but now it appears to me that such future grandeur is rather problematical.

With respect to the state of the convicts, I had still fewer opportunities of judging than on other points. The first question is, whether their condition is at all one of punishment: no one will maintain that it is a very severe one. This, however, I suppose, is of little consequence as long as it continues to be an object of dread to criminals at home. The corporeal wants of the convicts are tolerably well supplied: their prospect of future liberty and comfort is not distant, and, after good conduct, certain. A “ticket of leave” which, as long as a man keeps clear of suspicion as well as of crime, makes him free within a certain district, is given upon good conduct, after years proportional to the length of the sentence;

For life, eight years is the time of probation; for seven years, four, &c.


yet with all this, and overlooking the previous imprisonment and wretched passage out, I believe the years of assignment are passed away with discontent and unhappiness. As an intelligent man remarked to me, the convicts know no pleasure beyond sensuality, and in this they are not gratified. The enormous bribe which Government possesses in offering free pardons, together with the deep horror of the secluded penal settlements, destroys confidence between the convicts, and so prevents crime. As to a sense of shame, such a feeling does not appear to be known, and of this I witnessed some very singular proofs. Though it is a curious fact, I was universally told that the character of the convict population is one of arrant cowardice: not unfrequently some become desperate, and quite indifferent of/{as to} life, yet a plan requiring cool or continued courage is seldom put into execution. The worst feature in the whole case is, that although there exists what may be called a legal reform, and comparatively little {which the law can touch}/~ is committed ~/{which the law can touch}, yet that any moral reform should take place appears to be quite out of the question. I was assured by well-informed people, that a man who should try to improve, could not while living with other assigned servants;—his life would be one of intolerable misery and persecution. Nor must the contamination of the convict-ships and prisons, both here and in England, be forgotten. On the whole, as a place of punishment, the object is scarcely gained; as a real system of reform it has failed, as perhaps would every other plan; but as a means of making men outwardly honest,—of converting vagabonds, most useless in one hemisphere, into active citizens of another, and thus giving birth to a new and splendid country—a grand centre of civilization—it has succeeded to a degree perhaps unparalleled in history.

van diemen's land.


{January 30th}/{30th}.—The Beagle sailed for Hobart Town in Van Diemen's Land. On the 5th of February, after a six days' passage, of which the first part was fine, and the latter very cold and squally, we entered the mouth of Storm Bay: the weather justified this awful name. The bay should rather be called an estuary, for it receives at its head the waters of the Derwent. Near the mouth, there are some extensive basaltic platforms; but higher up the land becomes mountainous, and is covered by a light wood. The lower parts of the hills which skirt the bay are cleared; and the bright yellow fields of corn, and dark green ones of potatoes, appeared/appear very luxuriant. Late in the evening we anchored in the snug cove, on the shores of which stands the capital of Tasmania{, as Van Diemen's Land is now called}/~. The first aspect of the place was very inferior to that of Sydney; the latter might be called a city, this is only a town.

In the morning I walked on shore. The streets are fine and broad; but the houses rather scattered: the shops appeared good.


{The town}/{It} stands at the base of Mount Wellington, a mountain, 3100 feet high, but of very little picturesque beauty: from this source, however, it receives a good supply of water. Round the cove there are some fine warehouses, and on one side a small fort. Coming from the Spanish settlements, where such magnificent care has generally been paid to the fortifications, the means of defence in these colonies appeared very contemptible. Comparing the town to Sydney, I was chiefly struck with the comparative fewness of the large houses, either built or building.

This circumstance must indicate that fewer people are gaining large fortunes. The growth, however, of small houses has been most abundant; and the vast number of little red brick dwellings, scattered on the hill behind the town, sadly destroys its picturesque appearance.


Hobart Town, from the census of {this year}/{1835}, contained 13,826 inhabitants, and the whole of Tasmania 36,505.

All the aborigines have been removed to an island in Bass's Straits, so that Van Diemen's Land enjoys the great advantage of being free from a native population. This most cruel step seems to have been quite unavoidable, as the only means of stopping a fearful succession of robberies, burnings, and murders, committed by the blacks; but/and which sooner or later would have ended in their utter destruction. I fear there is no doubt, that this train of evil and its consequences, originated in the infamous conduct of some of our countrymen. Thirty years is a short period, in which to have banished the last aboriginal from his native island,—and that island nearly as large as Ireland.

I do not know a more striking instance of the comparative rate of increase of a civilized over a savage people.


The correspondence {to show the necessity of this step}/{on this subject}, which took place between the government at home and that of Van Diemen's Land, is very interesting.

it is published in an appendix to Bischoff's History of Van Diemen's Land.


Although numbers of natives were shot and taken prisoners in the skirmishing, which was going on at intervals for several years; nothing seems fully to have impressed them with the idea of our overwhelming power, until the whole island, in 1830, was put under martial law, and by proclamation the whole population desired/commanded to assist in one great attempt to secure the entire race. The plan adopted was nearly similar to that of the great hunting-matches in India: a line was formed reaching across the island, with the intention of driving the natives into a cul-de-sac on Tasman's peninsula. The attempt failed; the natives, having tied up their dogs, stole during one night through the lines. This is far from surprising, when their practised senses, and usual manner of crawling after wild animals is considered. I have been assured that they can conceal themselves on almost bare ground, in a manner which until witnessed is scarcely credible;

The country is every where scattered over with blackened stumps, and the dusky natives are easily mistaken for these objects.

their dusky bodies being easily mistaken for the blackened stumps which are scattered all over the country.

I {have heard}/{was told} of a trial between a party of Englishmen and a native, who stood/{was to stand} in full view on the side of a bare hill; if the Englishmen closed their eyes for {scarcely more than a second}/{less than a minute}, he would squat down, and then they were never able to distinguish {the man}/{him} from the surrounding stumps. But to return to the hunting-match; the natives understanding this kind of warfare, were terribly alarmed, for they at once perceived the power and numbers of the whites. Shortly afterwards a party of thirteen belonging to two tribes came in; and, conscious of their unprotected condition, delivered themselves up in despair. Subsequently by the intrepid exertions of Mr. Robinson, an active and benevolent man, who fearlessly visited by himself the most hostile of the natives, the whole were induced to act in a similar manner. They were then removed to {Gun Carriage Island}/{an island}, where food and clothes were provided them.

I fear from what I heard at Hobart Town, that they are very far from being contented: some even think the race will soon become extinct.


Count Strzelecki states,* that “at the epoch of their deportation in 1835, the number of natives amounted to 210. In 1842, that is, after the interval of seven years, they mustered only fifty-four individuals; and, while each family of the interior of New South Wales, uncontaminated by contact with the whites, swarms with children, those of Flinders' Island had during eight years an accession of only fourteen in number!”

* Physical Description of New South Wales and Van Diemen's Land, p. 354.

The Beagle staid here ten days, and in this time I made several pleasant little excursions, chiefly with the object of examining the geological structure of the immediate neighbourhood.

The main points of interest consist, first in the presence of certain basaltic rocks which evidently have flowed as lava; secondly, in some great unstratified masses of greenstone; thirdly, in proofs of an exceedingly small rise of the land; fourthly, in some ancient fossiliferous strata, probably of the age of the Silurian system of Europe; and lastly, in a a solitary and superficial patch of yellowish limestone or travertin, which contains numerous impressions of leaves of trees and plants, not now existing.

The main points of interest consist, first in some highly fossiliferous strata, belonging to the Devonian or Carboniferous period; secondly, in proofs of a late small rise of the land; and lastly, in a solitary and superficial patch of yellowish limestone or travertin, which contains numerous impressions of leaves of trees, together with land-shells, not now existing.

It is not improbable that this one small quarry includes the only remaining record of the vegetation of Van Diemen's Land during one former epoch.

Mr. Frankland, the surveyor-general, was kind enough to give me much interesting information, and to take me several pleasant rides.


The climate here is damper than in New South Wales, and hence the land is more fertile. Agriculture flourishes; the cultivated fields looked/look well, and the gardens abound with thriving vegetables and fruit-trees. Some of the farm-houses, situated in retired spots, had a very tempting/attractive appearance. The general aspect of the vegetation is similar to that of Australia; perhaps it is a little more green and cheerful; and the pasture between the trees rather more abundant. One day I took a long walk on the side of the bay opposite to the town: I crossed in a steam-boat, two of which are constantly plying backwards and forwards. The machinery of one of these vessels was entirely manufactured in this colony, which, from its very foundation, then numbered only three and thirty years!

If I was obliged to emigrate, I think I would choose this place in preference to Sydney: the climate and aspect of the country alone would almost determine me. Moreover, I suspect society is here on a pleasanter footing; certainly it is free from the contamination of rich convicts, and the dissensions consequent on the existence of two classes of wealthy residents. The colony appeared extremely well governed; the streets at night being kept even more orderly than those of an English town.


{On another}/{Another} day I ascended Mount Wellington; I took with me a guide, for I failed in a first attempt, from the thickness of the wood. Our guide, however, was a stupid fellow, and conducted us to the southern and damp side of the mountain, where the vegetation was very luxuriant; and where the labour of the ascent, from the number of rotten trunks, was almost as great as on a mountain in Tierra del Fuego or in Chiloe. It cost us five and a half hours of hard climbing before we reached the summit. In many parts the gum-trees/Eucalypti grew to a great size, and composed a noble forest. In some of the dampest ravines, tree-ferns flourished in an extraordinary manner; I saw one which must have been at least twenty feet high to the base of the fronds, and was in girth exactly six feet. The {foliage of these trees,}/{fronds} forming the most elegant parasols, produced a gloomy shade, like that of the first hour of the night. The summit of the mountain is broad and flat, and is composed of huge angular masses of naked greenstone. Its elevation is 3100 feet above the level of the sea. The day was splendidly clear, and we enjoyed a most extensive view; to the north, the country appeared a mass of wooded mountains, of about the same {elevation and tame outline with the one}/{height with that} on which we were standing{~}/{, and with an equally tame outline}: to the south the {outline of the}/~ broken land and water, forming many intricate bays, was mapped with clearness before us. After staying some hours on the summit, we found a better way to descend, but did not reach the Beagle till eight o'clock, after a severe day's work.

February {17th}/{7th}.—The Beagle sailed from Tasmania, and, on the 6th of the ensuing month, reached King George's Sound, situated close to the S. W. corner of Australia.

We staid there eight days; and I do not remember, since leaving England, having passed a more dull, uninteresting time.

We staid there eight days; and we did not during our voyage pass a more dull and uninteresting time.

The country, viewed from an eminence, appears a woody plain, with here and there rounded and partly bare hills of granite protruding. One day I went out with a party, in hopes of seeing a kangaroo hunt, and walked over a good many miles of country. Everywhere we found the soil sandy, and very poor; it supported either a coarse vegetation of thin, low brushwood and wiry grass, or a forest of stunted trees. The scenery resembled that of the high sandstone platform of the Blue Mountains; the Casuarina (a tree somewhat resembling a Scotch fir) is, however, here in greater number, and the Eucalyptus in rather less. In the open parts there were many grass-trees,—a plant which, in appearance, has some affinity with the palm; but, instead of being surmounted by a crown of noble fronds, it can boast merely of a tuft of ~/very coarse grass/{grass-like leaves}. The general bright green colour of the brushwood and other plants, viewed from a distance, seemed to bespeak/promise fertility. A single walk, however, {will quite}/{was enough to} dispel such an illusion; and he who thinks with me will never wish to walk again in so uninviting a country.

One day I accompanied Captain FitzRoy to Bald Head; the place mentioned by so many navigators, where some imagined that they saw coral/corals, and others ~/{that they saw} petrified trees, standing in the position in which they grew/{had grown}.

According to our view, the rock was formed by the wind heaping up calcareous sand, during which process, branches and roots of trees, and land-shells were enclosed; the mass being afterward consolidated by the percolation of rain-water. When the wood had decayed, lime was washed into the cylindrical cavities, and became hard, sometimes even like that in a stalactite.

According to our view, the rock was formed by the wind having heaped up fine sand, composed of minute rounded particles of shells and corals, during which process branches and roots of trees, together with many land-shells, became enclosed. The whole then became consolidated by the percolation of calcareous matter; and the cylindrical cavities left by the decaying of the wood, were thus also filled up with a hard pseudo-stalactical stone.

The weather is now wearing away the softer rock, and in consequence the casts of roots and branches project above the surface: their resemblance to the stumps of a dead shrubbery was so exact, that, before touching them, we were sometimes at a loss to know which were composed of wood, and which of calcareous matter.

The weather is now wearing away the softer parts, and in consequence the hard casts of the roots and branches of the trees project above the surface, and, in a singularly deceptive manner, resemble the stumps of a dead thicket.

A large tribe of natives, called the White Cockatoo men happened to pay the settlement/town a visit while we were there. These men, as well as those of the tribe belonging to King George's Sound, being tempted by the offer of some tubs of rice and sugar, were persuaded to hold a “corrobery” or great dancing-party. As soon as it grew dark, small fires were lighted, and the men commenced their toilet, which consisted in painting themselves white in spots and lines. As soon as all was ready, large fires were kept blazing, round which the women and children were collected as spectators; the Cockatoo and King George's men formed two distinct parties, and {danced generally}/{generally danced} in answer to each other. The dancing consisted in {the whole set}/{their} running either sideways or in Indian file into an open space, and stamping the ground with great force as they marched together. Their heavy footsteps were accompanied by a kind of grunt, by beating their clubs and weapons/{spears together}, and by various other gesticulations, such as extending their arms and wriggling their bodies. It was a most rude, barbarous scene, and, to our ideas, without any sort of meaning; but we observed that the ~/black women and children watched {the whole proceeding}/{it} with the greatest pleasure. Perhaps these dances originally represented scenes/actions, such as wars and victories; there was one called the Emu dance, in which each man extended his arm in a bent manner, {so as to imitate}/{like} the neck of that bird. In another dance, one man {took off}/{imitated} the movements of a kangaroo grazing in the woods, whilst a second crawled up, and pretended to spear him. When both tribes mingled in the dance, the ground trembled with the heaviness of their steps, and the air resounded with their wild cries. Every one appeared in high spirits, and the group of nearly naked figures, viewed by the light of the blazing fires, all moving in hideous harmony, formed a perfect display of a festival amongst the lowest barbarians. In Tierra del Fuego, we have beheld many curious scenes in savage life, but never, I think, one where the natives were in such high spirits, and so perfectly at their ease. After the dancing was over, the whole party formed a great circle on the ground, and the boiled rice and sugar was distributed, to the delight of all.

After several tedious delays from clouded weather, on the 14th of March, we gladly stood out of King George's Sound on our course to Keeling Island. Farewell, Australia! you are a rising infant/child, and doubtless some day will reign a great princess in the South: but you are too great and ambitious for affection, yet not great enough for respect. I leave your shores without sorrow or regret.



Keeling Island—Singular appearance of—Scanty Flora—Transport of seeds—Birds and insects—Ebbing and flowing springs—Coral formations resisting power of ocean—Fields of dead coral—Stones transported by roots of trees—Great crab—Stinging corals—Structure of lagoon islands—Encircling and Barrier reefs—General proofs of subsidence in the Pacific—Theory of lagoon islands caused by subsidence of the land—Pacific and Indian oceans divided into alternate areas of elevation and subsidence—Points of eruption lie within the areas of elevation.



Keeling Island—Singular appearance—Scanty Flora—Transport of Seeds—Birds and Insects—Ebbing and flowing Springs—Fields of dead Coral—Stones transported in the roots of Trees—Great Crab—Stinging Corals—Coral eating Fish—Coral Formations—Lagoon Islands, or Atolls—Depth at which reef-building Corals can live—Vast Areas interspersed with low Coral Islands—Subsidence of their foundations—Barrier Reefs—Fringing Reefs—Conversion of Fringing Reefs into Barrier Reefs, and into Atolls—Evidence of changes in Level—Breaches in Barrier Reefs—Maldiva Atolls, their peculiar structure—Dead and submerged Reefs—Areas of subsidence and elevation—Distribution of Volcanoes—Subsidence slow, and vast in amount.

April 1st.—We arrived in view of the Keeling or Cocos Islands, situated in the Indian Ocean, and about six hundred miles distant from the coast of Sumatra. This is one of the lagoon-islands ~/{(or atolls)} of coral formation, similar to those {we passed in the Dangerous Archipelago}/{in the Low Archipelago which we passed near}.

An excellent idea of the general appearance of these extraordinary rings of land, which rise out of the depths of the ocean, may be obtained from the characteristic sketch of Whitsunday Island, in Beechey's Voyage.


When the ship was in the channel at the entrance, Mr. Liesk, an English resident, came off in his boat. The history of the inhabitants of this place, in as few words as possible, is as follows. About nine years ago, Mr. Hare, a very/~ worthless character, brought from the East Indian archipelago a number of Malay slaves, which now including children, amount to more than a hundred. Shortly afterwards, Captain Ross, who had before visited these islands in his merchant-ship, arrived from England, bringing with him his family and goods for settlement. Along with him came Mr. Liesk, who had been a mate in his vessel. The Malay slaves soon ran away from the islet on which Mr. Hare was settled, and joined Captain Ross's party. Mr. Hare upon this was ultimately obliged to leave the place.

The Malays are now nominally in a state of freedom, and certainly are so, as far as regards their personal treatment; but in most other points they are considered as slaves. From the/their discontented state {of the people,}/{, from} the repeated removals ~/{from islet to islet}, and perhaps also from a little mismanagement, things are not very prosperous. The island has no ~/domestic quadruped, excepting the pig, and {no vegetable in any quantity excepting}/{the main vegetable production is} the cocoa-nut.

On the latter the whole prosperity of the place depends. The only exports are oil from the nut, and the cocoa-nut* itself.

* The nuts are carried to Singapore and to Mauritius ; the white part being grated into a pulp, is used in making curries, and is said greatly to improve that dish.

The whole prosperity of the place depends on this tree: the only exports being oil from the nut, and the nuts themselves, which are taken to Singapore and Mauritius, where they are chiefly used, when grated, in making curries.

On it the pigs, which are loaded with fat, almost entirely subsist, as likewise do the poultry and ducks. Even a huge land-crab is furnished by nature with a curious instinct and form of legs to open and feed on this most same fruit.

On the cocoa-nut, also, the pigs, which are loaded with fat, almost entirely subsist, as do the ducks and poultry. Even a huge land-crab is furnished by nature with the means to open and feed on this most useful production.

The annular/{ring-formed} reef of this/the lagoon-island is surmounted in the greater part of its length by linear islets. On the northern or leeward side, there is an opening through which vessels can {reach the anchorage}/{pass to the anchorage within}. On entering, the scene was very curious and rather pretty; its beauty, however, {being solely dependant}/{entirely depended} on the brilliancy of the surrounding colours. The shallow, clear, and still water of the lagoon, resting in its greater part on white sand, is, when illuminated/illumined by a vertical sun, of the most vivid green. This brilliant expanse, several miles in width, is on all sides divided, either {from the dark heaving water of the ocean by a line of snow-white breakers}/{by a line of snow-white breakers from the dark heaving waters of the ocean}, or from the blue vault of heaven by the strips of land, crowned {at an equal height}/~ by the ~/level tops of the cocoa-nut trees. As a white cloud here and there affords a pleasing contrast with the azure sky, so in the lagoon, bands of living coral {appear through}/{darken} the emerald green water.

The next morning after anchoring, I went on shore on Direction Island. The strip of dry land is only a few hundred yards wide/{in width}; on the lagoon side {we have}/{there is} a white calcareous beach, the radiation from which {in such a}/{under this sultry} climate is/was very oppressive; and on the outer coast, a solid broad flat of coral-rock serves/served to break the violence of the open sea. Excepting near the lagoon, where there is some sand, the land is entirely composed of rounded fragments of coral. In such a loose, dry, stony soil, the climate of the intertropical regions alone could produce a vigorous vegetation. On some of the smaller islets, nothing could be more elegant than the manner in which the young and full-grown cocoa-nut trees, without destroying each other's symmetry, were mingled into one wood. A beach of glittering white sand formed a border to these fairy spots.

I will now give a sketch of the natural history of these islands, which, from its very paucity, possesses a peculiar interest. The cocoa-nut tree, at first glance, seems to compose the whole wood; there are however, five or six other kinds/trees. One of these grows to a very large size, but from the extremes of softness of its wood, is useless; another sort affords excellent timber for ship-building. Besides the trees, the number of plants is exceedingly limited, and consists of insignificant weeds. In my collection, which includes, I believe, nearly the perfect Flora, there are twenty species, without reckoning a moss, lichen, and fungus. To this number two trees must be added; one of which was not in flower, and the other I only heard of. The latter is a solitary tree of its kind {in the whole group}/~, and grows near the beach, where, without doubt, the one seed was thrown up by the waves. ~/{A Guilandina also grows on only one of the islets.} I do not include in the above list the sugar-cane, banana, some other vegetables, fruit-trees, and imported grasses. As the islands consist entirely of coral, and at one time probably/{must have} existed as a\~ mere water-washed reef/reefs, all the/{their terrestrial} productions must have been transported ~/here by the waves of the sea. In accordance with this, the Flora/Florula has quite the character of a refuge for the destitute: Professor Henslow informs me that of the twenty species nineteen belong to different genera, and these again to no less than sixteen orders!/families! ~/*


* These Plants are described in the Annals of Nat. Hist., vol. i., 1838, p. 337.

In Holman's* Travels an account is given, on the authority of Mr. A. S. Keating, who resided twelve months on these islands, of the various seeds and other bodies which have been known to have been washed on shore. “Seeds and plants from Sumatra and Java have been driven up by the surf on the windward side of the islands. Among them have been found the Kimiri, native of Sumatra and the peninsula of Malacca; the cocoa-nut of Balci, known by its shape and size; the Dadass, which is planted by the Malays with the pepper-vine, the latter intwining round its trunk, and supporting itself by the prickles on its stem; the soap-tree; the castor-oil plant; trunks of the sago palm; and various kinds of seeds unknown to the Malays settled on the islands. These are all supposed to have been driven by the N. W. monsoon to the coast of New Holland, and thence to these islands by the S. E. trade-wind. Large masses of Java teak and Yellow wood have also been found, besides immense trees of red and white cedar, and the blue gumwood of New Holland, in a perfectly sound condition. All the hardy seeds, such as creepers, retain their germinating power, but the softer kinds, among which is the mangostin, are destroyed in the passage. Fishing-canoes, apparently from Java, have at times been washed on shore.” It is interesting thus to discover how numerous the seeds are, which, coming from several countries, are drifted over the wide ocean. Professor Henslow tells me, he believes that nearly all the plants which I brought from these islands, are common littoral species in the East Indian archipelago. From the direction, however, of the winds and currents, it seems scarcely possible that they could have come here in a direct line. If, as suggested with much probability by Mr. Keating, they were first carried towards the coast of New Holland, and thence drifted back again/~ together with the productions of that country, the seeds, before germinating, must have travelled between 1800 and 2400 miles.

* Holman's Travels, vol. iv. p. 378.

Chamisso,* when describing the Radack Archipelago, situated in the western part of the Pacific, states that “the sea brings to these islands the seeds and fruits of many trees, most of which have yet not grown here. The greater part of these seeds appear to have not yet lost the capability of growing.”

* Kotzebue's First Voyage, vol. iii. p. 155.

It is also said that ~/{palms and bamboos from somewhere in the torrid zone, and} trunks of northern firs, are washed on shore: these firs must have {been floated}/{come} from an immense distance. These facts are highly interesting. It cannot be doubted ~/that if there were land-birds to pick up the seeds when first cast on shore, and a soil better adapted for their growth than the loose blocks of coral,

that such islands, although so isolated, would soon possess a more abundant Flora.

that the most isolated of the lagoon-islands would in time possess a far more abundant Flora than they now have.

The list of land animals is even poorer than that of ~/the plants. Some of the islets are inhabited by rats, {and their origin is known to be due to}/{which were brought in} a ship from the Mauritius, {which was}/~ wrecked here.

These rats have rather a different appearance from the English kind; they are smaller and much more brightly coloured

These rats are considered by Mr. Waterhouse as identical with the English kind, but they are smaller, and more brightly coloured.

There are no true land-birds, for a snipe and a rail (Rallus Phillippensis), though living entirely in the dry herbage, belong to the order of Waders. Birds of this order are said to occur on several of the small low islands in the Pacific. At Ascension ~/{, where there is no land-bird,} a rail (Porphyrio?)/(Porphyrio simplex) was shot near the summit of the mountain, and it was evidently a solitary straggler.


At Tristan d'Acunha, where, according to Carmichael, there are only two land-birds, there is a coot.

From these circumtances/facts I believe ~/that the waders ~/{, after the innumerable web-footed species,} are generally the first colonists of {any island, after the innumerable web-footed species}/{small isolated islands}. I may add, that whenever I have/~ noticed birds, {which were not pelagic}/{not of oceanic species}, very far out at sea, they always belonged to this order; and hence they would naturally become the earliest colonists of any {distant point}/{remote point of land}.

Of reptiles I saw only one small lizard. Of insects I took pains to collect every kind. Exclusive of spiders, which were numerous, there were thirteen species.* Of these, one only was a beetle. A small {species of}/~ ant swarmed by thousands under the loose dry blocks of coral, and was the only true insect which was abundant. Although the productions of the land are thus scanty, if we look to the waters of the surrounding sea, the number of organic beings is indeed infinite. Chamisso has described† the natural history of {Romanzoff,}/~ a lagoon-island in the Radack Archipelago;

* The thirteen species belong to the following orders. Coleoptera, a species of minute Elater; Orthoptera, a Gryllus and Blatta; Hemiptera, one; Homoptera, two; Neuroptera a Chrysopa; Hymenoptera, two ants; Lepidoptera nocturna, a Diopæa, and a Pterophorus(?); Diptera, two.

† Kotzebue's First Voyage, vol. iii. p. 222.

* The thirteen species belong to the following orders:—In the Coleoptera, a minute Elater; Orthoptera, a Gryllus and a Blatta; Hemiptera, one species; Homoptera, two; Neuroptera a Chrysopa; Hymenoptera, two ants; Lepidoptera nocturna, a Diopæa, and a Pterophorus(?); Diptera, two species.

† Kotzebue's First Voyage, vol. iii. p. 222.

The number and kind of productions there is very nearly the same with those here. One small lizard was seen: wading birds (Numenius and Scolopax) were numerous, and very tame. Of plants, he states there were nineteen species (including one fern); and some of them are the same species with those I collected here, although on an island situated in a different ocean.

and it is remarkable how closely its inhabitants, in number and kind, resemble those of Keeling Island. There is one lizard and two waders, namely, a snipe and curlew. Of plants there are nineteen species, including a fern; and some of these are the same with those growing here, though on a spot so immensely remote, and in a different ocean.

These strips of land are raised only to that height, to which the surf can throw fragments, and the wind heap up sand. Their protection is due to the outward and lateral increase of the reef, which thus breaks the sea. The aspect and constitution of these islets at once call up the idea, that the land and the ocean are here struggling for mastery: although terra-firma has obtained a footing, the denizens of the other element think their claim at least equal.

The long strips of land, forming the linear islets, have been raised only to that height to which the surf can throw fragments of coral, and the wind heap up calcareous sand. The solid flat of coral rock on the outside, by its breadth, breaks the first violence of the waves, which otherwise, in a day, would sweep away these islets and all their productions. The ocean and the land seem here struggling for mastery: although terra firma has obtained a footing, the denizens of the water think their claim at least equally good.

In every part one meets hermit crabs of more than one species,* carrying on their backs the house/{shells which} they have stolen from the neighbouring beach.

* The large claws or pincers of some of these crabs are most beautifully adapted, when drawn back, to form an operculum to the shell, nearly as perfect as the proper one originally belonging to the molluscous animal. I was assured, and as far as my observations went I found it so, that certain species of the hermit-crab always use certain species of shells.

Overhead, the trees are occupied by numbers of gannets, frigate-birds, and terns. From the many nests and smell of the atmosphere, this might be called a sea-rookery

Overhead, numerous gannets, frigate-birds, and terns, rest on the trees; and the wood, from the many nests and from the smell of the atmosphere, might be called a sea-rookery.

The gannets, sitting on their rude nests, {look at an intruder}/{gaze at one} with a stupid yet angry air. The noddies, as their name expresses, are silly little creatures. But there is one charming bird: it is a {small and}/{small,} snow-white tern, which smoothly hovers at the distance of {an arm's length from your}/{a few feet above one's} head, its large black eye scanning, with quiet curiosity, your expression. Little imagination is required to fancy that so light and delicate a body must be tenanted by some wandering fairy spirit.

Sunday, April 3rd.—After service I accompanied Captain FitzRoy to the settlement, situated at the distance of some miles, on a/the point ~/{of an islet} thickly {scattered over}/{covered} with tall cocoa-nut trees. Captain Ross and Mr. Liesk live in a large barn-like house open at both ends, and lined with mats made of woven bark. The houses of the Malays are arranged along the shore of the lagoon. The whole place had rather a desolate aspect, for there were no gardens to show the signs of care and cultivation. The natives belong to different islands in the East Indian archipelago, but all speak the same language: we saw the inhabitants of Borneo, Celebes, Java, and Sumatra. In colour they resemble the Tahitians, {nor do they}/{from whom they do not widely} differ in {form of}/~ features. Some of the women, however, showed/show a good deal of the Chinese character. I liked both their general expression/expressions and the sound of their voices. They appeared poor, and their houses were destitute of furniture; but it was evident, from the plumpness of the little children, that cocoa-nuts and turtle afford no bad sustenance.

On this island the wells are situated from which ships obtain water. At first sight it appears not a little remarkable that the fresh water should regularly ebb and flow with the usual tide.* We must believe that the compressed sand or porous coral rock acts like a sponge; and that the rain water which falls on the ground being specifically lighter than the salt merely floats on its surface, and is subject to the same movements. There can be no actual attraction between salt and fresh water, and the spongy texture must tend to prevent all admixture from slight disturbances. On the other hand, where the foundation consists only of loose fragments, upon a well being dug, salt or brackish water enters; of which fact we saw an instance on this same island.

* These ebbing and flowing wells are common in parts of the West Indies. The simple fact, that in low islands of small extent, and composed of porous materials, the rain-water can have no tendency to sink lower than the level of the surrounding sea, and must therefore accumulate near the surface, having been overlooked; it has been supposed that sand possesses the power of filtering the salt which is dissolved in the sea-water.

On this island the wells are situated, from which ships obtain water. At first sight it appears not a little remarkable that the fresh water should regularly ebb and flow with the tides; and it has even been imagined, that sand has the power of filtering the salt from the sea-water. These ebbing wells are common on some of the low islands in the West Indies. The compressed sand, or porous coral rock, is permeated like a sponge with the salt water, but the rain which falls on the surface must sink to the level of the surrounding sea, and must accumulate there, displacing an equal bulk of the salt water. As the water in the lower part of the great sponge-like coral mass rises and falls with the tides, so will the water near the surface; and this will keep fresh, if the mass be sufficiently compact to prevent much mechanical admixture; but where the land consists of great loose blocks of coral with open interstices, if a well be dug, the water, as I have seen, is brackish.

After dinner we stayed to see a curious half superstitious scene acted by the Malay women.

They dress a large wooden spoon in garments, carry it to the grave of a dead man, and then at the full of the moon they pretend it becomes inspired, and will dance and jump about.

A large wooden spoon dressed in garments, and which had been carried to the grave of a dead man, they pretend becomes inspired at the full of the moon, and will dance and jump about.

After the proper preparations, the spoon, held by two women, became convulsed, and danced in good time to the song of the surrounding children and women. It was a most foolish spectacle; but Mr. Liesk maintained that many of the Malays believed in its spiritual movement/movements. The dance did not commence till the moon had risen, and it was well worth remaining to behold her bright orb so quietly shining through the long arms of the {cocoa/nuts}/{cocoa-nut trees} as they waved in the evening breeze. These scenes of the tropics are in themselves so delicious, that they almost equal those dearer ones ~/{at home,} to which we are bound by each best feeling of the mind.

The next day I employed myself in examining the very interesting, yet simple structure and origin of these islands. The water being unusually smooth, I waded in/{over the outer flat of dead rock} as far as the living mounds of coral, on which the swell of the open sea breaks. In some of the gullies and hollows there were beautiful green and other coloured fishes, and the form and tints of many of the zoophytes were admirable. It is excusable to grow enthusiastic over the infinite numbers of organic beings with which the sea of the tropics, so prodigal of life, teems; yet I must confess I think those naturalists who have described, in well-known words, the submarine grottoes decked with a thousand beauties, have indulged in rather exuberant language.

April 6th.—I accompanied Captain FitzRoy to an island at the head of the lagoon: the channel was exceedingly intricate, winding through fields of delicately branched corals. We saw several turtle and two boats were then employed in catching them. {The method is rather curious:}/~ The water was so clear and shallow, that although at first a turtle quickly dives out of sight, yet in a canoe or boat under sail, the pursuers after no very long chase come up to it. A man standing ready in the bows/bow, at this moment dashes through the water upon the turtle's back; then clinging with both hands by the shell of its neck, he is carried away till the animal becomes exhausted and is secured. It was quite an interesting chase to see the two boats thus doubling about, and the men dashing ~/{head foremost} into the water trying to seize their prey.


Captain Moresby informs me that in the Chagos archipelago in this same ocean, the natives, by a horrible process, take the shell from the back of the living turtle. “It is covered with burning charcoal, which causes the outer shell to curl upwards, it is then forced off with a knife, and before it becomes cold flattened between boards. After this barbarous process the animal is suffered to regain its native element, where, after a certain time, a new shell is formed; it is, however, too thin to be of any service, and the animal always appears languishing and sickly.”

When we arrived at the head of the lagoon, we crossed the/a narrow islet, and found a great surf breaking on the windward coast. I can hardly explain the cause/reason, but there is to my mind much grandeur in the view of the outer shores of these lagoon-islands. There is a simplicity in the barrier-like beach, the margin of green bushes and tall cocoa-nuts, the solid flat of ~/dead coral-rock, strewed here and there with great ~/loose fragments, and the line of furious breakers, all rounding away towards either hand. The ocean throwing its waters over the broad reef appears an invincible, all-powerful enemy; yet we see it resisted, and even conquered, by means which at first seem most weak and inefficient. It is not that the ocean spares the rock of coral; the great fragments scattered over the reef, and heaped on the beach, whence the tall cocoa-nut springs, plainly bespeak the unrelenting power of its/the waves. Nor are any periods of repose granted. The long swell caused by the gentle but steady action of the trade-wind, always blowing in one direction over a wide area, causes breakers, {which even exceed in violence those of our}/{almost equalling in force those during a gale of wind in the} temperate regions, and which never cease to rage. It is impossible to behold these waves without feeling a conviction that an island, though built of the hardest rock, let it be porphyry, granite, or quartz, would ultimately yield and be demolished by such {irresistible forces}/{an irresistible power}. Yet these low, insignificant coral-islets stand and are victorious: for here another power, ~/as an antagonist {to the former}/~, takes part in the contest. The organic forces separate the atoms of carbonate of lime, one by one, from the foaming breakers, and unite them into a symmetrical structure. Let the hurricane tear up its thousand huge fragments; yet what will this/that tell against the accumulated labour of myriads of architects at work night and day, month after month? Thus do we see the soft and gelatinous body of a polypus, through the agency of the vital laws, conquering the great mechanical power of the waves of an ocean which neither the art of man nor the inanimate works of nature could successfully resist.

We did not return on board till late in the evening, as we staid some time in the lagoon collecting specimens of the giant Chama, and looking at the coral fields.

We did not return on board till late in the evening, for we staid a long time in the lagoon, examining the fields of coral and the gigantic shells of the chama, into which, if a man were to put his hand, he would not, as long as the animal lived, be able to withdraw it.

Near the head of the lagoon I was much surprised to find a wide area, considerably more than a mile square, covered with a forest of ~/delicately branching coral/corals, which, though standing upright, was/were all dead and rotten. At first I was quite at a loss to understand the cause; afterwards it occurred to me that it was owing to the following rather curious combination of circumstances. It should, however, first be stated, that corals are not able to survive even a short exposure in the air to the sun's rays, so that their upward limit of growth is determined by that of lowest water at spring tides. It appears, from some old charts, that the long island to windward was formerly separated by wide channels into several islets; this fact is likewise indicated by the {less age of the trees in certain}/{trees being younger on these} portions. Under the former condition of the reef, a strong breeze, by throwing more water over the barrier, would tend to raise the level of the lagoon. Now it acts in a directly contrary manner; for the water ~/{within the lagoon} not only is not increased by currents from the outside, but is ~/itself blown outwards by the force of the wind. Hence it is observed, that the tides/tide near the head of the lagoon do/does not rise so high during {strong breezes as on ordinary occasions}/{a strong breeze as it does when it is calm}. This difference of level, although no doubt very small, has, I believe, caused the death of those coral-groves, which under the former ~/{and more open} condition of {things had}/{the outer reef has} attained the utmost possible limit of upward growth.

A few miles north of Keeling there is another small {lagoon island, the centre}/{atoll, the lagoon} of which is nearly filled up ~/{with coral-mud}. Captain Ross found ~/embedded in the conglomerate of/on the outer coast, a well-rounded fragment of greenstone, rather larger than a man's head: he and the men with him were so much surprised at this, that they brought it away and preserved it as a curiosity. The occurrence of this one stone, where every other particle of matter is calcareous, certainly is very puzzling. The island has scarcely ever been visited, nor is it probable that a ship had been wrecked there. From the absence of any better explanation, I came to the conclusion that it must have come there/~ entangled in the roots of some large tree: when, however, I considered the great distance from the nearest land, the combination of chances against a stone thus being entangled, the tree washed into the sea, floated so far, then landed safely, and the stone finally so embedded as to allow of its discovery, I was almost ashamed/afraid of imagining a means of transport ~/apparently so improbable. It was therefore with great interest that I found Chamisso,*/~ the justly distinguished naturalist who accompanied Kotzebue, stating that the inhabitants of the Radack archipelago, a group of lagoon-islands in the midst of the Pacific, obtained stones for sharpening their instruments by searching the roots of trees which are cast upon the beach.

* Kotzebue's first voyage, vol. iii., p. 155. It is said, “The sea throws up on the reefs of Radack the trunks of northern firs (!) and trees of the torrid zone (palms, bamboos). It provides the inhabitants not only with timber for boats, but it also brings them in wrecks of European ships, the iron which they want.”—“They receive, in a similar manner, another treasure, hard stones fit for whetting. They are sought for in the roots and hollows of the trees which the sea throws up.”


It will be evident that this must have happened several times, since laws have been established that such stones belong to the chief, and a punishment is inflicted on any one who attempts to {defraud him of this right}/{steal them}. When the isolated position of these small islands in the midst of a vast ocean—their great distance from any land excepting that of coral formation, {a fact well}/~ attested by the value which the inhabitants, who are such bold navigators, attach to a stone of any kind,*—and the slowness of the currents of the open sea, are all considered, the occurrence of pebbles thus transported does appear wonderful. Stones may often be thus carried; and if the island on which they are stranded is constructed of any other substance besides coral, they would scarcely attract attention, and their origin at least would never {have been}/{be} guessed. Moreover, this agency may long escape discovery from the probability of trees, especially those loaded with stones, floating beneath the surface. In the channels of Tierra del Fuego large quantities of drift timber are cast upon the beach, yet it is extremely rare to meet a tree swimming on the water.

* Some natives carried by Kotzebue to Kamtschatka collected stones to take back to their country.

It is easy to conceive that waterlogged wood might be transported, when floating close to the bottom, and occasionally even just touching it. The knowledge of any result which (with sufficient time allowed) can be produced by causes, though appearing infinitely improbable, is valuable to the geologist, for he by his creed deals with centuries and thousands of years as others do with minutes. If a few isolated stones are discovered in a mass of fine sedimentary strata, it cannot, after the above facts, be considered as very improbable that they may have been drifted there by the floating timber of a former epoch.


These facts may possibly throw light on single stones, whether angular or rounded, occasionally found embedded in fine sedimentary masses.

During another day I visited {Horsburg and West Island. In the latter,}/{West Islet, on which} the vegetation was perhaps more luxuriant than on any other. The cocoa-nut trees generally grow separate, but here the young ones flourished beneath their tall parents, and formed with their long and curved fronds the most shady arbours. Those alone who have tried it, know how delicious it is to be seated in such shade, and drink the cool pleasant fluid of the cocoa-nut{, which hangs in close bunches close by}/~. In this island there is a large {bay or little lagoon}/{bay-like space}, composed of the finest white sand: it is quite level and is only covered by the tide at high water; from this large bay smaller creeks penetrated/penetrate the surrounding woods.

To see a field of glittering sand, representing water, and around the border of which the cocoa-nut trees extended their tall and waving trunks, formed a singular and very pretty view.

To see a field of glittering white sand, representing water, with the cocoa-nut trees extending their tall and waving trunks around the margin, formed a singular and very pretty view.

I will now briefly mention a few zoological observations which I made during our stay at these islands.


I have before alluded to a crab which lives on the cocoa-nuts; it is very common on all parts of the dry land, and grows to a monstrous size: it is closely allied or identical with ~/the Birgos latro.

This crab has its front pair of legs terminated by very strong and heavy pincers, and the last pair by others which are narrow and weak.

The front pair of legs terminate in very strong and heavy pincers, and the last pair are fitted with others weaker and much narrower.

It would at first be thought quite impossible for a crab to open a strong cocoa-nut covered with the husk; but Mr. Liesk assures me that he has repeatedly seen {the operation}/{this} effected. The crab begins by tearing the husk, fibre by fibre, and always from that end under which the three eye-holes are situated; when this is completed, the crab commences hammering with its heavy claws on one of these/the eye-holes till an opening is made. Then turning round its body, by the aid of its posterior and narrow pair of pincers, it extracts the white albuminous substance. I think this is as curious a case of instinct as ever I heard of, and likewise of adaptation in structure between two objects apparently so remote from each other in the scheme of nature, as a crab and a cocoa-nut tree. The Birgos is diurnal in its habits; but every night it is said to pay a visit to the sea, no doubt for the purpose of moistening its branchiæ. The young are likewise hatched, and live for some time, on the coast. These crabs inhabit deep burrows, which they excavate/{hollow out} beneath the roots of trees; and here/where they accumulate surprising quantities of the picked fibres of the cocoa-nut husk, on which they rest as on a bed.

The Malays sometimes take advantage of their labour by collecting the course fibrous substance and using it as junk.

The Malays sometimes take advantage of this, and collect the fibrous mass to use as junk.

These crabs are very good to eat; moreover, under the tail of the larger ones there is a mass of fat, which, when melted, sometimes yields as much as a quart bottle full of limpid oil. It has been stated by some authors that the Birgos crawls up the cocoa-nut trees for the purpose of stealing the nuts: I very much doubt the possibility of this; but with the Pandanus* the task would be very much easier. I was told by Mr. Liesk that on these islands the Birgos lives only on the nuts which have fallen to the ground.

* See Proceedings of Zoological Society, 1832, p. 17.


Captain Moresby informs me that this crab inhabits the Chagos and Seychelle groups, but not the neighbouring Maldiva archipelago. It formerly abounded at Mauritius, but only a few small ones are now found there. In the Pacific, this species, or one with closely allied habits, is said* to inhabit a single coral island, north of the Society group. To show the wonderful strength of the front pair of pincers, I may mention, that Captain Moresby confined one in a strong tin-box, which had held biscuits, the lid being secured with wire; but the crab turned down the edges and escaped. In turning down the edges, it actually punched many small holes quite through the tin!

* Tyerman and Bennett. Voyage, etc. vol. ii. p. 33.

I was a good deal surprised by finding two species of coral of the genus Millepora ~/{(M. complanata and alcicornis)}, possessed of the power of stinging. The stony branches or plates, when taken fresh from the water, have a harsh feel and are not slimy, although possessing a strong and disagreeable odour/smell. The stinging property seems to vary {within limits}/~ in different specimens: when a piece was pressed or rubbed on the tender skin of the face or arm, a pricking sensation was usually caused, which came on after the interval of a second, and lasted only for a few minutes. One day, however, by merely touching my face with one of the branches, {the pain was instantanious}/{pain was instantaneously caused}; it increased as usual after a few seconds, and remaining sharp for some minutes, was perceptible for half an hour afterwards. The sensation was as bad as that from a nettle, but more like that caused by the ~/{Physalia or} Portuguese man-of-war ~/{(Physalia)}. Little red spots were produced on the tender skin of the arm, which appeared as if they would have formed watery pustules, but did not.

Addendum to Page 552: One of the species of Millepora, which is mentioned as having the property of stinging, is the M. complanata; and the other, I believe, is M. alcicornis. In the Voyage of the Astrolabe (vol. iv., p. 19), an Actinia is said to have this property, and even to infect the water, which it squirts from its mouth. A flexible coralline, allied to Sertularia, was observed (p. 337) at New Ireland to have the same stinging power.

The circumstance of this stinging property is not new, though it has scarcely been sufficiently remarked on.


M. Quoy* mentions it, and I have heard of stinging corals in the West Indies. In the East Indian sea a stinging sea-weed also is found.

* Freycinet's Voyage, vol. i., p. 597.

M. Quoy mentions this case of the Millepora; and I have heard of stinging corals in the West Indies. Many marine animals seem to have this power of stinging: besides the Portuguese man-of-war, many jelly-fish, and the Aplysia or sea-slug of the Cape de Verd Islands, it is stated in the voyage of the Astrolabe, that an Actinia or sea-anemone, as well as a flexible coralline allied to Sertularia, both possess this means of offence or defence. In the East Indian sea, a stinging sea-weed is said to be found.

There was another and quite distinct kind of coral, which was remarkable from the change of colour, which it underwent shortly after death; when alive it was of a honey-yellow, but some hours after being taken out of water, it became as black as ink.


I may just mention, as partly connected with the above subjects, that there are here two species of fish, of the genus Sparus, which exclusively feed on coral.

Two species of fish, of the genus Scarus, which are common here, exclusively feed on coral:

both are coloured of a splendid bluish-green, one living invariably in the lagoon, and the other amongst the outer breakers. Mr. Liesk assured us, that he had repeatedly seen whole shoals grazing with their strong bony jaws on the tops of the coral branches{*.}/{:} I opened the intestines of several, and found them distended with yellowish calcareous matter/{sandy mud}.

* It has sometimes been thought (vide Quoy in Freycinet's Voyage), that coral-eating fish were poisonous; such certainly was not the case with these Spari.


The slimy disgusting Holuthuriae (allied to our star-fish), which the Chinese gourmands are so fond of, also feed largely, as I am informed by Dr. Allan, on corals; and the bony apparatus within their bodies seems well adapted for this end.

These fish, together with the lithophagous shells and nereidous animals, which perforate every block of dead coral, must be very efficient agents in producing the finest kind of mud, and this, when derived from such materials, appears to be the same with chalk.

These Holuthuriae, the fish, the numerous burrowing shells, and nereidous worms, which perforate every block of dead coral, must be very efficient agents in producing the fine white mud which lies at the bottom and on the shores of the lagoon. A portion, however, of this mud, which when wet resembled pounded chalk, was found by Professor Ehrenberg to be partly composed of siliceous-shielded infusoria.

NOTE: Darwin extensively revised the remainder of this chapter for his second edition, hence there is little correlation between the left (1839) and right (1845) columns.

April 12th.—In the morning we stood out of the lagoon ~/{on our passage to the Isle of France}. I am glad we have visited these islands: such formations surely rank high amongst the wonderful objects of this world.

It is not a wonder, which at first strikes the eye of the body, but rather, after reflection, the eye of reason. We feel surprised, when travellers relate accounts of the vast extent of certain ancient ruins; but how utterly insignificant are the greatest of these, when compared to the pile of stone here accumulated by the work of various minute animals. Throughout the whole group of islands, every single atom,* even from the smallest particle to large fragments of rock, bears the stamp of having been subjected to the power of organic arrangement.

Captain FitzRoy found no bottom with a line 7200 feet in length, at the distance of only 2200 yards from the shore; hence this island forms a lofty submarine mountain, with sides steeper even than those of the most abrupt volcanic cone.

The saucer-shaped summit is nearly ten miles across; and every single atom,* from the least particle to the largest fragment of rock, in this great pile, which however is small compared with very many other lagoon-islands, bears the stamp of having been subjected to organic arrangement. We feel surprise when travellers tell us of the vast dimensions of the Pyramids and other great ruins, but how utterly insignificant are the greatest of these, when compared to these mountains of stone accumulated by the agency of various minute and tender animals! This is a wonder which does not at first strike the eye of the body, but, after reflection, the eye of reason.

* I exclude, of course, some soil which has been imported here in vessels from Malacca and Java, and likewise, some small fragments of pumice, drifted here by the waves. The one block of greenstone, moreover, on the northern island must be excepted.

Captain FitzRoy, at the distance of but little more than a mile from the shore, sounded with a line, 7200 feet long, and found no bottom. This island is, therefore, a lofty submarine mountain, which has a greater inclination than even those of volcanic origin on the land.

I will now give a sketch* of the general results at which I have arrived, respecting the origin of the various classes of reefs, which occur scattered over such large spaces of the intertropical seas.

I will now give a very brief account of the three great classes of coral-reefs; namely, Atolls, Barrier, and Fringing-reefs, and will explain my views* on their formation. Almost every voyager who has crossed the Pacific has expressed his unbounded astonishment at the lagoon-islands, or as I shall for the future call them by their Indian name of atolls, and has attempted some explanation. Even as long ago as the year 1605, Pyrard de Laval well exclaimed, “C'est une merveille de voir chacun de ces atollons, environne d'un grand banc de pierre tout autour, n'y ayant point d'artifice humain.” The accompanying sketch of Whitsunday Island in the Pacific, copied from, Capt. Beechey's admirable Voyage, gives but a faint idea of the singular aspect of an atoll: it is one of the smallest size, and has its narrow islets united together in a ring. The immensity of the ocean, the fury of the breakers, contrasted with the lowness of the land and the smoothness of the bright green water within the lagoon, can hardly be imagined without having been seen.

* This sketch was read before the Geological Society, May, 1837.

* These were first read before the Geological Society in May, 1837, and have since been developed in a separate volume on the “Structure and Distribution of Coral Reefs.”

The first consideration to attend to, is, that every observation leads to the conclusion that those lamelliform corals, which are the efficient agents in forming a reef, cannot live at any considerable depth.

As far as I have personally seen, I judge of this from carefully examining the impressions on the soundings, which were taken by Captain FitzRoy at Keeling Island, close outside the breakers, and from some others which I obtained at the Mauritius. At a depth under ten fathoms, the arming came up as clean as if it had been dropped on a carpet of thick turf; but as the depth increased, the particles of sand brought up became more and more numerous, until, at last, it was evident the bottom consisted of a smooth layer of calcareous sand, interrupted only at intervals by shelves, composed probably of dead coral rock. To carry on the analogy, the blades of grass grew thinner and thinner, till, at last, the soil was so sterile, that nothing sprung from it.

As long as no facts, beyond those relating to the structure of lagoon islands were known, so as to establish some more comprehensive theory, the belief that corals constructed their habitations, or, speaking more correctly, their skeletons, on the circular crests of submarine craters, was both ingenious and very plausible. Yet the sinuous margin of some, as in the Radack Islands of Kotzebue, one of which is fifty-two miles long, by twenty broad, and the narrowness of others, as in Bow Island (of which there is a chart on a large scale, forming part of the admirable labours of Captain Beechey), must have startled every one who considered this subject.

The very general surprise of all those who have beheld lagoon islands, has perhaps been one chief cause why other reefs, of an equally curious structure have been almost overlooked:* I allude to the encircling reefs. We will take, as an instance, Vanikoro, celebrated on account of the shipwreck of La Peyrouse. The reef there runs at the distance of nearly two, and in some parts three miles from the shore, and is separated from it by a channel having a general depth between thirty and forty fathoms, and, in one part, no less than fifty, or three hundred feet. Externally, the reef rises from an ocean profoundly deep. Can any thing be more singular than this structure? It is analogous to that of a lagoon, but with an island standing, like a picture in its frame, in the middle. A fringe of low alluvial land in these cases generally surrounds the base of the mountains; this, covered by the most beautiful productions of a tropical land, backed by the abrupt mountains and fronted by a lake of smooth water, only separated from the dark waves of the ocean by a line of breakers, form the elements of the beautiful scenery of Tahiti—so well called the Queen of Islands. We cannot suppose these encircling reefs are based on an external crater, for the central mass sometimes consists of primary rock, or on any accumulation of sedimentary deposits, for the reefs follow indifferently the island itself, or its submarine prolongation. Of this latter case there is a grand instance in New Caledonia, where the reefs extend no less than 140 miles beyond the island.

* Mr. De la Beche, however, seems to have been fully aware of the difficulty. He says, “there are certain situations, where coral reefs run, as it were, in a line with the coast, but separated from it by deep water, which would seem to require a different explanation.” — Geological Manual, p. 142.

The great Barrier which fronts the N.E. coast of Australia, forms a third class of reef. It is described by Flinders as having a length of nearly one thousand miles, and as running parallel to the shore, at a distance of between twenty and thrty miles from it, and, in some parts, even of fifty and seventy. The great arm of the sea thus included, has a usual depth of between ten and twenty fathoms, but this increases towards one end to forty and even sixty. This probably is both the grandest and most extraordinary reef now existing in any part of the world.

It must be observed, that the reef itself in the three classes, namely, lagoon, encircling, and barrier, agrees in structure, even in the most minute details: but these I have not space here even to allude to. The difference entirely lies in the absence or presence of neighbouring land, and the relative position which the reefs bear to it. In the two last-mentioned classes, there is one difficulty in undertaking their origin, which must be pointed out. Since the time of Dampier it has been remarked, that high land and deep seas go together. Now when we see a number of mountainous islands coming abruptly down to the sea-shore, we must suppose the strata of which they are composed, are continued with nearly the same inclination beneath the water. But, in such cases, where the reef is distant several miles from the coast, it will be evident upon a little consideration, that a line drawn perpendicularly from its outer edge down to the solid rock on which the reef must be based, very far exceeds that small limit at which the efficient lamelliform corals exist.

In some parts of the sea, as we shall hereafter mention, reefs do occur which fringe rather than encircle islands—the distance from the shore being so small, where the inclination of the land is great, that there is no difficulty in understand-the growth of the coral. Even in these “fringing” reefs, as I shall call them in contradistinction to the “encircling,” the reef is not attached quite close to the shore. This appears to be the result of two causes: namely, first, that the water immediately adjoining the beach is rendered turbid by the surf, and therefore injurious to all zoophytes; and, secondly, that the larger and efficient kinds only flourish on the outer edge amidst the breakers of the open sea. The shallow space between the skirting reef and the shore has, however, a very different character from the deep channel, similarly situated with respect to those of the encircling order.

Having thus specified the several kinds of reefs, which differ in their forms and relative position with regard to the neighbouring land, but which are most closely similar in all other respects (as I could show if I had space), it will, I think, be allowed that no explanation can be satisfactory which does not include the whole series. The theory which I would offer, is simply, that as the land with the attached reefs subsides very gradually from the action of subterranean causes, the coral-building polypi soon raise again their solid masses to the level of the water: but not so with the land; each inch lost is irreclaimably gone;—as the whole gradually sinks, the water gains foot by foot on the shore, till the last and highest peak is finally submerged.

Before I explain this view more in detail, I must enter on a few considerations, which render such changes of level not improbable. Indeed, the simple fact of a large portion of the continent of South America, still rising under our eyes, and abounding with proofs of similar elevations on a grander scale during the recent period, takes away any excessive improbability of a movement similar in kind, but in an opposite direction. Mr. Lyell, who first suggested the idea of a general subsidence with reference to coral reefs, has remarked that the existence of so small a portion of land in the Pacific, where so many causes both aqueous and igneous tend to its production, renders such sinking of the foundation probable. There is, however, another argument of much greater weight, which may be inferred from the inconsiderable depth at which corals grow. We see large extents of ocean, of more than a thousand miles in one direction and several hundreds in another, scattered over with islands, none of which rise to a greater height than that to which waves can throw fragments, or the wind heap up sand. Now if we leave out of the question subsidence, the foundation on which these reefs are built, must in every case come to the surface within that small limit (we may say twenty fathoms) at which corals can live. This conclusion is so extremely improbable that it may at once be rejected: for in what country can there be found a broad and grand range of mountains of the same height within a hundred and twenty feet? But on the idea of subsidence, the case is at once clear: as each point, one after the other according to its altitude, was submerged, the coral grew upwards, and formed the many islets now standing at one level.

Having endeavoured on general grounds not only to remove any extreme degree of improbability in the belief of a general subsidence, but likewise to show that it is almost necessary to account for the existence of a vast number of reefs on one level, we will now see how far the same idea will apply to the peculiar configuration in the several classes. Let us imagine an island merely fringed by reefs extending to a short distance from the shore; in which case, as we have before remarked, there is no difficulty in understanding their structure. Now let this island subside by a series of movements of extreme slowness, the coral at each interval growing up to the surface. Without the aid of sections it is not very easy to follow out the result, but a little reflection will show that a reef encircling the shore at a greater or less distance, according to the amount of subsidence, would be produced. If we suppose the sinking to continue, the encircled island must, by the submergence of the central land but upward growth of the ring of coral, be converted into a lagoon island. If we take a section of some encircled island on a true scale, as for instance Gambier, which has been so well described by Captain Beechey, we shall not find the amount of movement very great, which would be necessary to change a well-characterized encircling reef, into as characteristic a lagoon island.

It will at once be evident that a coral reef, closely skirting the shore of a continent, would, in like manner after each subsidence, rise to the surface; the water, however, always encroaching on the land. Would not a barrier reef necessarily be produced, similar to the one extending parallel to the coast of Australia? It is indeed but uncoiling one of those reefs which encircle at a distance so many islands.

Thus the three great classes of reef, lagoon, encircling, and barrier, are connected by one theory. It will perhaps be remarked, if this be true, there ought to exist every intermediate form between a closely-encircled and a lagoon island. Such forms actually occur in various parts of the ocean: we have one, two, or more islands encircled in one reef; and of these some are of small proportional size to the area enclosed by the coral formation; so that a series of charts might be given, showing a gradation of character between the two classes. In New Caledonia, where the double line of reef projects 140 miles beyond the island, we may imagine we see this change in progress. At the northern extremity, reefs occur, some of which are of the encircling kind, and others almost with the character of true lagoon islands. The line of reef which fronts the whole west coast of this great island, has by some been called a barrier. It is four hundred miles long; and may be said thus to form a link between an ordinary encircling reef and the great Australian barrier.

I should perhaps have entered before into the consideration of one apparent difficulty in the origin of lagoon islands. It may be said, granting the theory of subsidence, a mere circular disc of coral would be formed, and not a cup-shaped mass. In the first place, even in reefs closely fringing the land (as before remarked), the corals do not grow on the shore itself, but leave a shallow channel. Secondly, the strong and vigorous species which alone build a solid reef, are never found within the lagoon; they only flourish amidst the foam of the never-tiring breakers. Nevertheless, the more delicate corals, though checked by several causes, such as strong tides and deposits of sand, do constantly tend to fill up the lagoon; but the process must become slower and slower, as the water in the shallow expanse is rendered subject to accidental impurities. A curious instance of this happened at Keeling Island, where a heavy tropical storm of rain killed nearly all the fish. When the coral at last has filled up the lagoon to the height of lowest water at spring-tides, which is the extreme limit possible,—how, afterwards, is the work to be completed? There is no high land whence sediment can be poured down; and the dark-blue colour of the ocean bespeaks its purity. The wind, carrying calcareous dust from the outer coast, is the only agent which can finally convert the lagoon island into solid land, and how slow must this process be!

Subsidence of the land must always be most difficult to detect, excepting in countries long civilized,—for the movement itself tends to conceal all evidence of it. Nevertheless, at Keeling Island, tolerably conclusive evidence of such movement could be observed. On every side of the lagoon, in which the water is as tranquil as in the most sheltered lake, old cocoa-nut trees were undermined and falling. Captain FitzRoy likewise pointed out to me on the beach the foundation-posts of a storehouse, which the inhabitants said had stood, seven years before, just above high-water mark, but now was daily washed by the tide. Upon asking the people whether they ever experienced earthquakes, they said, that lately the island had been shaken by a very bad one; and that they remembered two others during the last ten years. I no longer doubted concerning the cause which made the trees fall, and the storehouse to be washed by the daily tide.

At Vanikoro, the encircled island already mentioned, I gathered from Captain Dillon's account, that the alluvial land at the foot of the mountain was very small in quantity, the channel extremely deep, and the islets on the reef itself, which result from the gradual accumulation of fragments, singularly few in number; all of which, together with the wall-like structure of the reef both inside as well as outside, indicated to my mind, that, without doubt, the movements of subsidence had lately been rapid. At the end of the chapter, it is stated that this island is shaken by earthquakes of extreme violence.

I may here mention a circumstance, which to my mind had the same weight as positive evidence, though bearing on another part of the question. M. Quoy, when discussing in general terms the nature of coral reefs, gives a description which is applicable only to those which, skirting the shore, do not require a foundation at any greater depth than that from which the coral-building polypi can spring. I was at first astonished at this, as I knew he had crossed both the Pacific and Indian oceans, and must, as I thought, have seen the class of widely-encircling reefs, which indicate a subsiding land. He subsequently mentions several islands as instances of his description of the general structure; by a singular chance, the whole can be shown, by his own words, in different parts of his account, to have been recently elevated. Therefore, that which appeared so adverse to the theory, became as strong in its confirmation.

Continental elevations, as observed in South America and other parts, seem to act over wide areas with a very uniform force; we may therefore suppose that continental subsidences act in a nearly similar manner. On this assumption, and taking on the one hand, lagoon islands, encircling and barrier reefs, as indications of subsidence; and on the other, raised shells and corals, together with mere skirting reefs, as our proof of elevation, we may test the truth of the theory,—that their configuration has been determined by the kind of subterranean movement,—by observing whether any uniform results can be obtained. I think it can be shown that such is the case in a very remarkable degree; and that certain laws may be inferred from the examination, of far more importance than the mere explanation of the origin of the circular or other kinds of reef.

If there had been space, I should have made a few general remarks, before entering into any detail. I may, however, just notice the remarkable absence of the reef-building polypi over certain wide areas within the tropical sea: for instance, on the whole west coast of America, and, as I believe, of Africa (?), and round the eastern islands in the Atlantic ocean. Although certain species of lamelliform zoophytes are found on the shores of the latter islands, and though calcareous matter is abundant to excess, yet reefs are never formed. It would appear that the effective species do not occur there; of which circumstance I apprehend no explanation can be given, any more than why it has been ordained that certain plants, as heaths, should be absent from the New World, although so common in the Old.

Without entering into any minute geographical details, I must observe, that the usual direction of the island groups in the central parts of the Pacific, is N.W. and S.E. This must be noticed, because subterranean disturbances are known to follow the coast lines of the land. Commencing on the shores of America, there are abundant proofs that the greater part has been elevated within the recent period, but as coral reefs do not occur there, it is not immediately connected with our present subject. Immediately adjoining the continent there is an extent of ocean remarkably free from islands, and where of course there exists no possible indication of any change of level. We then come to a N. W. by W. line dividing the open sea from one strewed with lagoon islands, and including the two beautiful groups of encircled islands the Society and Georgian Archipelagoes. This great band having a length of more than four thousand miles by six hundred broad must, according to our view, be an area of subsidence. We will at present for convenience sake pass over the space of ocean immediately adjoining it, and proceed to the chain of islands including the New Hebrides, Solomon, and New Ireland. Any one who examines the charts of the separate islands in the Pacific, engraved on a large scale, will be struck with the absence of all distant or encircling reefs round these groups: yet it is known that coral occurs abundantly close in shore. Here, then, according to the theory, there are no proofs of subsidence; and in conformity to this we find in the works of Forster, Lesson, Labillardière, Quoy, and Bennett, constant allusion to the masses of elevated coral. These islands form, therefore, a well-determined band of elevation: between it and the great area of subsidence first mentioned there is a broad space of sea irregularly scattered with islets of all classes; some with proofs of recent elevation and merely fringed by reefs; others encircled; and some lagoon islands. One of the latter is described by Captain Cook as a grand circle of breakers without a single spot of land; in this case we may believe that an ordinary lagoon island has been recently submerged. On the other hand, there are proofs of other lagoon islands having been lifted up several yards above the level of the sea, but which still retain a pool of salt water in their centres. These facts show an irregular action in the subterranean forces; and when we remember that the space lies directly between the well-marked area of elevation and the enormous one of subsidence, an alternate and irregular movement seems almost probable.

To the westward of the New Hebrides line of elevation we have New Caledonia, and the space included between it and the Australian barrier, which Flinders, on account of the number of reefs, proposed to call the Corallian Sea. It is bounded on two sides by the grandest and most extraordinary reefs in the world, and is likewise terminated to the northward by the coast of Louisiade,—most dangerous on account of its distant reefs. This, then, according to our theory, is an area of subsidence. I may here remark, that as the Barrier is supposed to be produced by the subsidence of the coast of the mainland, it may be expected that any outlying islands would have formed lagoon islands. Now Bligh and others distinctly state that some of the islands there are precisely similar to the well-known lagoon islands in the Pacific; there are also encircled islands, so that the three classes supposed to be produced by the same movement are there found in juxtaposition; as likewise happens, but in a less evident manner, at New Caledonia and in the Society Archipelago.

The New Hebrides line of islands, may be observed to bend abruptly at New Britain, thence to run nearly east and west; and, lastly, to resume its former north-west direction in Sumatra and the peninsula of Malacca. The figure may be compared to the letter S laid obliquely, but the line is often double. We have shown that the southern part, as far north as New Ireland, abounds with proofs of elevation, so is it with the rest. Since the time of Bougainville every voyager adduces some fresh instance of such changes throughout a great part of the East Indian archipelago. I may specify New Guinea, Wageeoo, Ceram, Timor, Java, and Sumatra. Coral reefs are abundant in the greater part of these seas, but they merely skirt the shores. In the same manner as we have followed the curved line of elevation, so may we that of subsidence. At Keeling Island, I have already mentioned that there exist proofs of the latter movement: and it is a very interesting circumstance, that during the last earthquake, by which that island was affected, Sumatra, though distant nearly 600 miles, was violently shaken. Bearing in mind that there is evidence of recent elevation on the coast of the latter, one is strongly tempted to believe that as one end of the lever goes up, the other goes down: that as the East Indian archipelago rises, the bottom of the neighbouring sea sinks and carries with it Keeling Island, which would have been submerged long ago in the depths of the ocean, had it not been for the wonderful labours of the reef-building polypi.

As I have remarked, the islands in this great archipelago are only skirted with reefs; and it appears from the statements of those who have visited them, as well as from an examination of the charts, that lagoon islands are not found there. This in itself is remarkable, but it becomes far more so when it is known, that according to all accounts (and distinctly stated by Mr. De la Beche*) they are likewise absent in the West Indian sea, where coral is most abundant: now every one is aware of the numerous proofs of recent elevation in most parts of that archipelago. Again, Ehrenberg has observed that lagoon islands do not occur in the Red Sea: in Lyell's Geology, and in the Geographical Journal, proofs are given of recent elevation on the shores of a large part of that sea. Excepting on the theory of the form of reefs being determined by the kind of movement to which they have been subjected; it is a most anomalous circumstance, and which has never been attempted to be solved, that the lagoon structure being universal and considered as characteristic in certain parts of the ocean, should be entirely absent in others of equal extent.

* Geological Manual, p. 141.

I may here also just recal to mind the cases of skirting reefs mentioned by M. Quoy (to which number several others might be added), where proofs of elevation occurred. Some general law must determine the marked difference between reefs merely skirting the shore, and others rising from a deep ocean in the form of distant rings. We have endeavoured to show that with a subsiding movement, the first and simple class must necessarily pass into the second, and more remarkable structure.

To proceed with our examination: to the westward of the prolongation of the line of subsidence, of which Keeling Island is the index, we have an area of elevation. For on the northern end of Ceylon and on the eastern shores of India, elevated shells and corals, such as now exist in the neighbouring sea, have been observed. Again in the middle of the Indian ocean, the Laccadive, Maldive, and Chagos line of atolls or lagoons show a line of subsidence. The best characterized of these, namely, the Maldive islands, extend in length for 480 miles, with an average breadth of sixty. These atolls agree in most respects with the lagoons of the Pacific; they differ, however, in several of them being crowded together—such little groups being separated from other groups by profoundly deep channels. Now if we look in a chart, at the prolongation of the reef towards the northern end of New Caledonia, and then complete the work of subsidence, so as to continue producing the same results; we should have the original reef broken up into many patches; each of which, from the vigorous growth of coral on the outside, would have a constant tendency to assume a rounded form. Every accidental break in the continuity of the first line would determine a fresh circle. In the case, therefore, of the Low or Dangerous Archipelago in the Pacific, I believe that the lagoon islands were moulded round the flanks of so many distinct islands; but in the Maldives, that one single mountainous island, bordered by reefs, and very nearly of the same actual figure and dimensions with New Caledonia, formerly occupied that part of the ocean.

Lastly, to the extreme westward, the coast of Africa is closely skirted by coral reefs, and according to facts stated in Captain Owen's voyage, has probably been uplifted within a recent period. The same remark applies to the northern part of Madagascar, and, judging from the reefs likewise at the Seychelles, situated on the submarine prolongation of that great island. Between these two, N.N.E. and S.S.W. lines of elevation, some lagoon and widely-encircled islands indicate a band of subsidence.

When we consider the absence both of widely-encircling reefs and lagoon islands in the several archipelagoes and wide areas, where there are proofs of elevations; and on the other hand the converse case of the absence of such proof where reefs of those classes do occur; together with the juxtaposition of the different kinds produced by movements of the same order, and the symmetry of the whole, I think it will be difficult (even independently of the explanation it offers of the peculiar configuration of each class) to deny a great probability to this theory. Its importance, if true, is evident; because we get at one glance an insight into the system by which the surface of the land has been broken up, in a manner somewhat similar, but certainly far less perfect, to what a geologist would have done who had lived his ten thousand years, and kept a record of the passing changes. We see the law almost established, that linear areas of great extent undergo movements of an astonishing uniformity, and that the bands of elevation and subsidence alternate. Such phenomena at once impress the mind with the idea of a fluid most gradually propelled onwards, from beneath one part of the solid crust to another.

I cannot at present do more than allude to some of the results which may be deduced from these views. If we examine the points of eruption over the Pacific and Indian oceans, we shall find that all the active volcanoes occur within the areas of elevation. (The Asiatic band must be excepted; inasmuch as we are entirely in want of information of all kinds respecting it.) On the other hand, in the great spaces supposed to be now subsiding, between the Radack and Dangerous Archipelagoes, in the Corallian sea, and among the atolls which front the west coast of India, not one occurs. If we look at the changes of level as a consequence of the propulsion of fluid matter beneath the crust, as before suggested, then the area to which the force is directed might be expected to yield more readily than that whence it was gradually retiring. I am the more convinced that the above law is true, because, if we look to other parts of the world, proofs of recent elevation almost invariably occur, where there are active vents: I may instance the West Indies, the Cape de Verds, Canary Islands, southern Italy, Sicily, and other places. But in answer to this, those geologists, who, judging from the history of the isolated volcanic mounds of Europe, were inclined to believe that the level of the ground was constantly oscillating up and down, might maintain that on these same areas, the amount of subsidence had been equal to that of elevation, but that we possessed no means of knowing it. I conceive it is by eliminating this source of doubt, that the alternate bands of opposite movement, deduced from the configuration of the reefs, directly bear on this law. I need not do more than simply state, that we thus obtain (if the view is correct) a means of forming some judgment of the prevailing movements, during the formation of even the oldest series, where volcanic rocks occur interstratified with sedimentary deposits.

Any thing which throws light on the movements of the ground is well worthy of consideration; and the history of coral reefs may, in another manner, elucidate such changes in the older formations. As there is every reason to believe that the lamelliform corals grow only abundantly at a small depth, we may feel sure, where a great thickness of coral limestone occurs, that the reefs on which the zoophytes flourished, must have been sinking. Until we are enabled to judge by some means what were the prevailing movements at different epochs, it will scarcely ever be possible to speculate with any safety on the circumstances under which the complicated European formations, composed of such different materials and in such different states, were accumulated.

Nor can I quite pass over the probability of the above views illustrating those admirable laws first brought forward by Mr. Lyell,—of the geographical distribution of plants and animals, as consequent on geological changes. M. Lesson has remarked on the singular uniformity* of the Indio-Polynesian Flora throughout the immense area of the Pacific;—the dispersion of forms having been directed against the course of the trade-wind. If we believe that lagoon islands, those monuments raised by infinite numbers of minute architects, record the former existence of an archipelago or continent in the central part of Polynesia, whence the germs could be disseminated, the problem is rendered far more intelligible. Again, if the theory should hereafter be so far established, as to allow us to pronounce that certain districts fall within areas either of elevation or subsidence, it will directly bear upon that most mysterious question,—whether the series of organized beings peculiar to some isolated points, are the last remnants of a former population, or the first creatures of a new one springing into existence.

* Perhaps this is stated rather too strongly; but M. Lesson, of course, had grounds for his assertion.

Briefly to recapitulate. In the first place, reefs are formed around islands, or on the coast of the mainland, at that limited depth at which the efficient classes of zoophytes can live; and where the sea is shallow, irregular patches may likewise be produced. Afterwards from the effects of a series of small subsidences, encircling reefs, grand barriers, or lagoon islands, are mere modifications of one necessary result. Secondly, it can be shown on the above views, that the intertropical ocean, throughout more than a hemisphere, may be divided into linear and parallel bands, of which the alternate ones have undergone, within a recent period, the opposite movements of elevation and subsidence. Thirdly, that the points of eruption seem invariably to fall within areas subject to a propulsion from below. The traveller who is an eyewitness of some great and overwhelming earthquake, at one moment of time loses all former associations of the land being the type of solidity, so will the geologist, if he believe in these oscillations of level (the deeply-seated origin of which is betrayed by their forms and vast dimensions), perhaps be more deeply impressed with the never-ceasing mutability of the crust of this our World.

The earlier voyagers fancied that the coral-building animals instinctively built up their great circles to afford themselves protection in the inner parts; but so far is this from the truth, that those massive kinds, to whose growth on the exposed outer shores the very existence of the reef depends, cannot live within the lagoon, where other delicately-branching kinds flourish. Moreover, on this view, many species of distinct genera and families are supposed to combine for one end; and of such a combination, not a single instance can be found in the whole of nature. The theory that has been most generally received is, that atolls are based on submarine craters; but when we consider the form and size of some, the number, proximity, and relative positions of others, this idea loses its plausible character: thus Suadiva atoll is 44 geographical miles in diameter in one line, by 34 miles in another line; Rimsky is 54 by 20 miles across, and it has a strangely sinuous margin; Bow atoll is 30 miles long, and on an average only 6 in width; Menchicoff atoll consists of three atolls united or tied together. This theory, moreover, is totally inapplicable to the northern Maldiva atolls in the Indian Ocean (one of which is 88 miles in length, and between 10 and 20 in breadth), for they are not bounded like ordinary atolls by narrow reefs, but by a vast number of separate little atolls; other little atolls rising out of the great central lagoon-like spaces. A third and better theory was advanced by Chamisso, who thought that from the corals growing more vigorously where exposed to the open sea, as undoubtedly is the case, the outer edges would grow up from the general foundation before any other part, and that this would account for the ring or cup-shaped structure. But we shall immediately see, that in this, as well as in the crater-theory, a most important consideration has been overlooked, namely, on what have the reef-building corals, which cannot live at a great depth, based their massive structures?

Numerous soundings were carefully taken by Captain FitzRoy on the steep outside of Keeling atoll, and it was found that within ten fathoms, the prepared tallow at the bottom of the lead, invariably came up marked with the impression of living corals, but as perfectly clean as if it had been dropped on a carpet of turf; as the depth increased, the impressions became less numerous, but the adhering particles of sand more and more numerous, until at last it was evident that the bottom consisted of a smooth sandy layer: to carry on the analogy of the turf, the blades of grass grew thinner and thinner, till at last the soil was so sterile, that nothing sprang from it.

From these observations, confirmed by many others, it may be safely inferred that the utmost depth at which corals can construct reefs is between 20 and 30 fathoms. Now there are enormous areas in the Pacific and Indian Ocean, in which every single island is of coral formation, and is raised only to that height to which the waves can throw up fragments, and the winds pile up sand. Thus the Radack group of atolls is an irregular square, 520 miles long and 240 broad; the Low Archipelago is elliptic-formed, 840 miles in its longer, and 420 in its shorter axis: there are other small groups and single low islands between these two archipelagoes, making a linear space of ocean actually more than 4000 miles in length, in which not one single island rises above the specified height. Again, in the Indian Ocean there is a space of ocean 1500 miles in length, including three archipelagoes, in which every island is low and of coral formation. From the fact of the reef-building corals not living at great depths, it is absolutely certain that throughout these vast areas, wherever there is now an atoll, a foundation must have originally existed within a depth of from 20 to 30 fathoms from the surface. It is improbable in the highest degree that broad, lofty, isolated, steep-sided banks of sediment, arranged in groups and lines hundreds of leagues in length, could have been deposited in the central and profoundest parts of the Pacific and Indian Oceans, at an immense distance from any continent, and where the water is perfectly limpid. It is equally improbable that the elevatory forces should have uplifted throughout the above vast areas, innumerable great rocky banks within 20 to 30 fathoms, or 120 to 180 feet, of the surface of the sea, and not one single point above that level; for where on the whole surface of the globe can we find a single chain of mountains, even a few hundred miles in length, with their many summits rising within a few feet of a given level, and not one pinnacle above it? If then the foundations, whence the atoll-building corals sprang, were not formed of sediment, and if they were not lifted up to the required level, they must of necessity have subsided into it; and this at once solves the difficulty. For as mountain after mountain, and island after island, slowly sank beneath the water, fresh bases would be successively afforded for the growth of the corals. It is impossible here to enter into all the necessary details, but I venture to defy* any one to explain in any other manner how it is possible that numerous islands should be distributed throughout vast areas—all the islands being low—all being built of corals, absolutely requiring a foundation within a limited depth from the surface.

* It is remarkable that Mr. Lyell, even in the first edition of his “Principles of Geology” inferred that the amount of subsidence in the Pacific must have exceeded that of elevation, from the area of land being very small relatively to the agents there tending to form it, namely, the growth of coral and volcanic action.

Before explaining how atoll-formed reefs acquire their peculiar structure, we must turn to the second great class, namely, Barrier-reefs. These either extend in straight lines in front of the shores of a continent or of a large island, or they encircle smaller islands; in both cases, being separated from the land by a broad and rather deep channel of water, analogous to the lagoon within an atoll. It is remarkable how little attention has been paid to encircling barrier-reefs; yet they are truly wonderful structures. The following sketch represents part of the barrier encircling the island of Bolabola in the Pacific, as seen from one of the central peaks. In this instance the whole line of reef has been converted into land; but usually a snow-white line of great breakers, with only here and there a single low islet crowned with cocoa-nut trees, divides the dark heaving waters of the ocean from the light-green expanse of the lagoon-channel. And the quiet waters of this channel generally bathe a fringe of low alluvial soil, loaded with the most beautiful productions of the tropics, and lying at the foot of the wild, abrupt, central mountains.

Encircling barrier-reefs are of all sizes, from three miles to no less than forty-four miles in diameter; and that which fronts one side, and encircles both ends, of New Caledonia, is 400 miles long. Each reef includes one, two, or several rocky islands of various heights; and in one instance, even as many as twelve separate islands. The reef runs at a greater or less distance from the included land; in the Society archipelago generally from one to three or four miles; but at Hogoleu the reef is 20 miles on the southern side, and 14 miles on the opposite or northern side, from the included islands. The depth within the lagoon-channel also varies much; from 10 to 30 fathoms may be taken as an average; but at Vanikoro there are spaces no less than 56 fathoms or 363 feet deep. Internally the reef either slopes gently into the lagoon-channel, or ends in a perpendicular wall sometimes between two and three hundred feet under water in height: externally the reef rises, like an atoll, with extreme abruptness out of the profound depths of the ocean.

What can be more singular than these structures? We see an island, which may be compared to a castle situated on the summit of a lofty submarine mountain, protected by a great wall of coral-rock, always steep externally and sometimes internally, with a broad level summit, here and there breached by a narrow gateway, through which the largest ships can enter the wide and deep encircling moat.

As far as the actual reef of coral is concerned, there is not the smallest difference, in general size, outline, grouping, and even in quite trifling details of structure, between a barrier and an atoll. The geographer Balbi has well remarked, that an encircled island is an atoll with high land rising out of its lagoon; remove the land from within, and a perfect atoll is left.

But what has caused these reefs to spring up at such great distances from the shores of the included islands? It cannot be that the corals will not grow close to the land; for the shores within the lagoon-channel, when not surrounded by alluvial soil, are often fringed by living reefs; and we shall presently see that there is a whole class, which I have called Fringing Reefs from their close attachment to the shores both of continents and of islands. Again, on what have the reef-building corals, which cannot live at great depths, based their encircling structures? This is a great apparent difficulty, analogous to that in the case of atolls, which has generally been overlooked. It will be perceived more clearly by inspecting the following sections which are real ones, taken in north and south lines, through the islands with their barrier-reefs, of Vanikoro, Gambier, and Maurua; and they are laid down, both vertically and horizontally, on the same scale of a quarter of an inch to a mile.

It should be observed that the sections might have been taken in any direction through these islands, or through many other encircled islands, and the general features would have been the same. Now, bearing in mind that reef-building coral cannot live at a greater depth than from 20 to 30 fathoms, and that the scale is so small that the plummets on the right hand show a depth of 200 fathoms, on what are these barrier-reefs based? Are we to suppose that each island is surrounded by a collar-like submarine ledge of rock, or by a great bank of sediment, ending abruptly where the reef ends?

If the sea had formerly eaten deeply into the islands, before they were protected by the reefs, thus having left a shallow ledge round them under water, the present shores would have been invariably bounded by great precipices, but this is most rarely the case. Moreover, on this notion, it is not possible to explain why the corals should have sprung up, like a wall, from the extreme outer margin of the ledge, often leaving a broad space of water within, too deep for the growth of corals. The accumulation of a wide bank of sediment all round these islands, and generally widest where the included islands are smallest, is highly improbable, considering their exposed positions in the central and deepest parts of the ocean. In the case of the barrier-reef of New Caledonia, which extends for 150 miles beyond the northern point of the islands, in the same straight line with which it fronts the west coast, it is hardly possible to believe that a bank of sediment could thus have been straightly deposited in front of a lofty island, and so far beyond its termination in the open sea. Finally, if we look to other oceanic islands of about the same height and of similar geological constitution, but not encircled by coral-reefs, we may in vain search for so trifling a circumambient depth as 30 fathoms, except quite near to their shores; for usually land that rises abruptly out of water, as do most of the encircled and non-encircled oceanic islands, plunges abruptly under it. On what then, I repeat, are these barrier reefs based? Why, with their wide and deep moat-like channels, do they stand so far from the included land? We shall soon see how easily these difficulties disappear.

We come now to our third class of Fringing-reefs, which will require a very short notice. Where the land slopes abruptly under water, these reefs are only a few yards in width, forming a mere ribbon or fringe round the shores: where the land slopes gently under the water the reef extends further, sometimes even as much as a mile from the land; but in such cases the soundings outside the reef always show that the submarine prolongation of the land is gently inclined. In fact, the reefs extend only to that distance from the shore, at which a foundation within the requisite depth from 20 to 30 fathoms is found. As far as the actual reef is concerned, there is no essential difference between it and that forming a barrier or an atoll: it is, however, generally of less width, and consequently few islets have been formed on it. From the corals growing more vigorously on the outside, and from the noxious effect of the sediment washed inwards, the outer edge of the reef is the highest part, and between it and the land there is generally a shallow sandy channel a few feet in depth. Where banks or sediments have accumulated near to the surface, as in parts of the West Indies, they sometimes become fringed with corals, and hence in some degree resemble lagoon-islands or atolls, in the same manner as fringing-reefs, surrounding gently sloping islands, in some degree resemble barrier-reefs.

No theory on the formation of coral-reefs can be considered satisfactory which does not include the three great classes. We have seen that we are driven to believe in the subsidence of those vast areas, interspersed with low islands, of which not one rises above the height to which the wind and waves can throw up matter, and yet are constructed by animals requiring a foundation, and that foundation to lie at no great depth. Let us then take an island surrounded by fringing-reefs, which offer no difficulty in their structure; and let this island with its reefs, represented by the unbroken lines in the woodcut, slowly subside. Now, as the island sinks down, either a few feet at a time or quite insensibly, we may safely infer, from what is known of the conditions favourable to the growth of coral, that the living masses, bathed by the surf on the margin of the reef, will soon regain the surface. The water, however, will encroach little by little on the shore, the island becoming lower and smaller, and the space between the inner edge of the reef and the beach proportionately broader. A section of the reef and island in this state, after a subsidence of several hundred feet, is given by the dotted lines.

Coral islets are supposed to have been formed on the reef; and a ship is anchored in the lagoon-channel. This channel will be more or less deep, according to the rate of subsidence, to the amount of sediment accumulated in it, and to the growth of the delicately branched corals which can live there. The section in this state resembles in every respect one drawn through an encircled island: in fact, it is a real section (on the scale of .517 of an inch to a mile) through Bolabola in the Pacific. We can now at once see why encircling barrier-reefs stand so far from the shores which they front. We can also perceive, that a line drawn perpendicularly down from the outer edge of the new reef, to the foundation of solid rock beneath the old fringing-reef, will exceed by as many feet as there have been feet of subsidence, that small limit of depth at which the effective corals can live:—the little architects having built up their great wall-like mass, as the whole sank down, upon a basis formed of other corals and their consolidated fragments. Thus the difficulty on this head, which appeared so great, disappears.

If, instead of an island, we had taken the shore of a continent fringed with reefs, and had imagined it to have subsided, a great straight barrier, like that of Australia or New Caledonia, separated from the land by a wide and deep channel, would evidently have been the result.

Let us take our new encircling barrier-reef, of which the section is now represented by unbroken lines, and which, as I have said, is a real section through Bolabola, and let it go on subsiding. As the barrier-reef slowly sinks down, the corals will go on vigorously growing upwards; but as the island sinks, the water will gain inch by inch on the shore—the separate mountains first forming separate islands within one great reef—and finally, the last and highest pinnacle disappearing. The instant this takes place, a perfect atoll is formed: I have said, remove the high land from within an encircling barrier-reef, and an atoll is left, and the land has been removed. We can now perceive how it comes that atolls, having sprung from encircling barrier-reefs, resemble them in general size, form, in the manner in which they are grouped together, and in their arrangement in single or double lines; for they may be called rude outline charts of the sunken islands over which they stand. We can further see how it arises that the atolls in the Pacific and Indian Oceans extend in lines parallel to the generally prevailing strike of the high islands and great coast-lines of those oceans. I venture, therefore, to affirm, that on the theory of the upward growth of the corals during the sinking of the land,* all the leading features in those wonderful structures, the lagoon-islands or atolls, which have so long excited the attention of voyagers, as well as in the no less wonderful barrier-reefs, whether encircling small islands or stretching for hundreds of miles along the shores of a continent, are simply explained.

* It has been highly satisfactory to me to find the following passage in a pamphlet by Mr. Couthouy, one of the naturalists in the great Antarctic Expedition of the United States:—“Having personally examined a large number of coral-islands and resided eight months among the volcanic class having shore and partially encircling reefs. I may be permitted to state that my own observations have impressed a conviction of the correctness of the theory of Mr. Darwin.”—The naturalists, however, of this expedition differ with me on some points respecting coral formations.

It may be asked, whether I can offer any direct evidence of the subsidence of barrier-reefs or atolls; but it must be borne in mind how difficult it must ever be to detect a movement, the tendency of which is to hide under water the part affected. Nevertheless, at Keeling atoll I observed on all sides of the lagoon old cocoa-nut trees undermined and falling; and in one place the foundation-posts of a shed, which the inhabitants asserted had stood seven years before just above high-water mark, but now was daily washed by every tide: on inquiry I found that three earthquakes, one of them severe, had been felt here during the last ten years. At Vanikoro, the lagoon-channel is remarkably deep, scarcely any alluvial soil has accumulated at the foot of the lofty included mountains, and remarkably few islets have been formed by the heaping of fragments and sand on the wall-like barrier reef; these facts, and some analogous ones, led me to believe that this island must lately have subsided and the reef grown upwards: here again earthquakes are frequent and very severe. In the Society archipelago, on the other hand, where the lagoon-channels are almost choked up, where much low alluvial land has accumulated, and where in some cases long islets have been formed on the barrier-reefs—facts all showing that the islands have not very lately subsided—only feeble shocks are most rarely felt. In these coral formations, where the land and water seem struggling for mastery, it must be ever difficult to decide between the effects of a change in the set of the tides and of a slight subsidence: that many of these reefs and atolls are subject to changes of some kind is certain; on some atolls the islets appear to have increased greatly within a late period; on others they have been partially or wholly washed away. The inhabitants of parts of the Maldiva archipelago know the date of the first formation of some islets; in other parts, the corals are now flourishing on water-washed reefs, where holes made for graves attest the former existence of inhabited land. It is difficult to believe in frequent changes in the tidal currents of an open ocean; whereas, we have in the earthquakes recorded by the natives on some atolls, and in the great fissures observed on other atolls, plain evidence of changes and disturbances in progress in the subterranean regions.

It is evident, on our theory, that coasts merely fringed by reefs cannot have subsided to any perceptible amount; and therefore they must, since the growth of their corals, either have remained stationary or have been upheaved. Now, it is remarkable how generally it can be shown, by the presence of upraised organic remains, that the fringed islands have been elevated: and so far, this is indirect evidence in favour of our theory. I was particularly struck with this fact, when I found, to my surprise, that the descriptions given by MM. Quoy and Gaimard were applicable, not to reefs in general as implied by them, but only to those of the fringing class; my surprise, however, ceased when I afterwards found that, by a strange chance, all the several islands visited by these eminent naturalists, could be shown by their own statements to have been elevated within a recent geological era.

Not only the grand features in the structure of barrier-reefs and of atolls, and to their likeness to each other in form, size, and other characters, are explained on the theory of subsidence—which theory we are independently forced to admit in the very areas in question, from the necessity of finding bases for the corals within the requisite depth—but many details in structure and exceptional cases can thus also be simply explained. I will give only a few instances. In barrier-reefs it has long been remarked with surprise, that the passages through the reef exactly face valleys in the included land, even in cases where the reef is separated from the land by a lagoon-channel so wide and so much deeper than the actual passage itself, that it seems hardly possible that the very small quantity of water or sediment brought down could injure the corals on the reef. Now, every reef of the fringing class is breached by a narrow gateway in front of the smallest rivulet, even if dry during the greater part of the year, for the mud, sand, or gravel, occasionally washed down kills the corals on which it is deposited. Consequently, when an island thus fringed subsides, though most of the narrow gateways will probably become closed by the outward and upward growth of the corals, yet any that are not closed (and some must always be kept open by the sediment and impure water flowing out of the lagoon-channel) will still continue to front exactly the upper parts of those valleys, at the mouths of which the original basal fringing-reef was breached.

We can easily see how an island fronted only on one side, or on one side with one end or both ends encircled by barrier-reefs, might after long-continued subsidence be converted either into a single wall-like reef, or into an atoll with a great straight spur projecting from it, or into two or three atolls tied together by straight reefs—all of which exceptional cases actually occur. As the reef-building corals require food, are preyed upon by other animals, are killed by sediment, cannot adhere to a loose bottom, and may be easily carried down to a depth whence they cannot spring up again, we need feel no surprise at the reefs both of atolls and barriers becoming in parts imperfect. The great barrier of New Caledonia is thus imperfect and broken in many parts; hence, after long subsidence, this great reef would not produce one great atoll 400 miles in length, but a chain or archipelago of atolls, of very nearly the same dimension with those in the Maldiva archipelago. Moreover, in an atoll once breached on opposite sides, from the likelihood of the oceanic and tidal currents passing straight through the breaches, it is extremely improbable that the corals, especially during continued subsidence, would ever be able again to unite the rim; if they did not, as the whole sank downwards, one atoll would be divided into two or more. In the Maldiva archipelago there are distinct atolls so related to each other in position, and separated by channels either unfathomable or very deep (the channel between Ross and Ari atolls is 150 fathoms, and that between the north and south Nillandoo atolls is 200 fathoms in depth), that it is impossible to look at a map of them without believing that they were once more intimately related. And in this same archipelago, Mahlos-Mahdoo atoll is divided by a bifurcating channel from 100 to 132 fathoms in depth, in such a manner, that it is scarcely possible to say whether it ought strictly to be called three separate atolls, or one great atoll not yet finally divided.

I will not enter on many more details; but I must remark that the curious structure of the northern Maldiva atolls receives (taking into consideration the free entrance of the sea through their broken margins) a simple explanation in the upward and outward growth of the corals, originally based both on small detached reefs in their lagoons, such as occur in common atolls, and on broken portions of the linear marginal reef, such as bounds every atoll of the ordinary form. I cannot refrain from once again remarking on the singularity of these complex structures—a great sandy and generally concave disk rises abruptly from the unfathomable ocean, with its central expanse studded, and its edge symmetrically bordered with oval basins of coral-rock just lipping the surface of the sea, sometimes clothed with vegetation, and each containing a lake of clear water!

One more point in detail: as in the two neighbouring archipelagoes corals flourish in one and not in the other, and as so many conditions before enumerated must affect their existence, it would be an inexplicable fact if, during the changes to which earth, air, and water are subjected, the reef-building corals were to keep alive for perpetuity on any one spot or area. And as by our theory the areas including atolls and barrier-reefs are subsiding, we ought occasionally to find reefs both dead and submerged. In all reefs, owing to the sediment being washed out of the lagoon-channel to leeward, that side is least favourable to the long-continued vigorous growth of the corals; hence dead portions of reef not unfrequently occur on the leeward side; and these, though still retaining their proper wall-like form, are now in several instances sunk several fathoms beneath the surface. The Chagos group appears from some cause, possibly from the subsidence having been too rapid, at present to be much less favourably circumstanced for the growth of reefs than formerly: one atoll has a portion of its marginal reef, nine miles in length, dead and submerged; a second has only a few quite small living points which rise to the surface, a third and fourth are entirely dead and submerged; a fifth is a mere wreck, with its structure almost obliterated. It is remarkable that in all these cases, the dead reefs and portions of reef lie at nearly the same depth, namely, from six to eight fathoms beneath the surface, as if they had been carried down by one uniform movement. One of these “half-drowned atolls” so called by Capt. Moresby (to whom I am indebted for much invaluable information), is of vast size, namely, ninety nautical miles across in one direction, and seventy miles in another line; and is in many respects eminently curious. As by our theory it follows that new atolls will generally be formed in each new area of subsidence, two weighty objections might have been raised, namely, that atolls must be increasing indefinitely in number; and secondly, that in old areas of subsidence each separate atoll must be increasing indefinitely in thickness, if proofs of their occasional destruction could not have been adduced. Thus have we traced the history of these great rings of coral-rock, from their first origin through their normal changes, and through the occasional accidents of their existence, to their death and final obliteration.

In my volume on “Coral Formations” I have published a map, in which I have coloured all the atolls dark-blue, the barrier-reefs pale-blue, and the fringing reefs red. These latter reefs have been formed whilst the land has been stationary, or, as appears from the frequent presence of upraised organic remains, whilst it has been slowly rising: atolls and barrier-reefs, on the other hand, have grown up during the directly opposite movement of subsidence, which movement must have been very gradual, and in the case of atolls so vast in amount as to have buried every mountain-summit over wide ocean-spaces. Now in this map we see that the reefs tinted pale and dark-blue, which have been produced by the same order of movement, as a general rule manifestly stand near each other. Again we see, that the areas with the two blue tints are of wide extent; and that they lie separate from extensive lines of coast coloured red, both of which circumstances might naturally have been inferred, on the theory of the nature of the reefs having been governed by the nature of the earth's movement. It deserves notice that in more than one instance where single red and blue circles approach near each other, I can show that there have been oscillations of level; for in such cases the red or fringed circles consist of atolls, originally by our theory formed during subsidence, but subsequently upheaved; and on the other hand, some of the pale-blue or encircled islands are composed of coral-rock, which must have been uplifted to its present height before that subsidence took place, during which the existing barrier-reefs grew upwards.

Authors have noticed with surprise, that although atolls are the commonest coral-structures throughout some enormous oceanic tracts, they are entirely absent in other seas, as in the West Indies: we can now at once perceive the cause, for where there has not been subsidence, atolls cannot have been formed; and in the case of the West Indies and parts of the East Indies, these tracts are known to have been rising within the recent period. The larger areas, coloured red and blue, are all elongated; and between the two colours there is a degree of rude alternation, as if the rising of one had balanced the sinking of the other. Taking into consideration the proofs of recent elevation both on the fringed coasts and on some others (for instance, in South America) where there are no reefs, we are led to conclude that the great continents are for the most part rising areas: and from the nature of the coral-reefs, that the central parts of the great oceans are sinking areas. The East Indian archipelago, the most broken land in the world, is in most parts an area of elevation, but surrounded and penetrated, probably in more lines than one, by narrow areas of subsidence.

I have marked with vermilion spots all the many known active volcanos within the limits of this same map. Their entire absence from every one of the great subsiding areas, coloured either pale or dark blue, is most striking and not less so is the coincidence of the chief volcanic chains with the parts coloured red, which we are led to conclude have either long remained stationary, or more generally have been recently upraised. Although a few of the vermilion spots occur within no great distance of single circles tinted blue, yet not one single active volcano is situated within several hundred miles of an archipelago, or even small group of atolls. It is, therefore, a striking fact that in the Friendly archipelago, which consists of a group of atolls upheaved and since partially worn down, two volcanos, and perhaps more, are historically known to have been in action. On the other hand, although most of the islands in the Pacific which are encircled by barrier-reefs, are of volcanic origin, often with the remnants of craters still distinguishable, not one of them is known to have ever been in eruption. Hence in these cases it would appear, that volcanos burst forth into action and become extinguished on the same spots, accordingly as elevatory or subsiding movements prevail there. Numberless facts could be adduced to prove that upraised organic remains are common wherever there are active volcanos; but until it could be shown that in areas of subsidence, volcanos were either absent or inactive, the inference, however probable in itself, that their distribution depended on the rising or falling of the earth's surface, would have been hazardous. But now, I think, we may freely admit this important deduction.

Taking a final view of the map, and bearing in mind the statements made with respect to the upraised organic remains, we must feel astonished at the vastness of the areas, which have suffered changes in level either downwards or upwards, within a period not geologically remote. It would appear also, that the elevatory and subsiding movements follow nearly the same laws. Throughout the spaces interspersed with atolls, where not a single peak of high land has been left above the level of the sea, the sinking must have been immense in amount. The sinking, moreover, whether continuous, or recurrent with intervals sufficiently long for the corals again to bring up their living edifices to the surface, must necessarily have been extremely slow. This conclusion is probably the most important one which can be deduced from the study of coral formations;—and it is one which it is difficult to imagine how otherwise could ever have been arrived at. Nor can I quite pass over the probability of the former existence of large archipelagoes of lofty islands, where now only rings of coral-rock scarcely break the open expanse of the sea, throwing some light on the distribution of the inhabitants of the other high islands, now left standing so immensely remote from each other in the midst of the great oceans. The reef-constructing corals have indeed reared and preserved wonderful memorials of the subterranean oscillations of level; we see in each barrier-reef a proof that the land has there subsided, and in each atoll a monument over an island now lost. We may thus, like unto a geologist who had lived his ten thousand years and kept a record of the passing changes, gain some insight into the great system by which the surface of this globe has been broken up, and land and water interchanged.



Mauritius, beautiful appearance—Hindoos—Cape of Good Hope—St. Helena—Geology—History of changes in vegetation, probable cause of extinction of land-shells—Ascension—Green Hill—Curious incrustations of calcareons matter on tidal rocks—Bahia—Brazil—Splendour of tropical scenery—Pernambuco—Singular reef—Azores—Supposed crater—Hints to collectors—Retrospect of the most impressive parts of the voyage.



Mauritius, beautiful appearance of—Great crateriform ring of Mountains—Hindoos—St. Helena—History of the changes in the Vegetation—Cause of the extinction of Land-shells—Ascension—Variation in the imported Rats—Volcanic Bombs—Beds of Infusoria—Bahia—Brazil—Splendour of Tropical Scenery—Pernambuco—Singular Reef—Slavery—Return to England—Retrospect on our Voyage.

April 29th.—In the morning we passed round the northern extremity/end of ~/{Mauritius, or} the Isle of France. From this point of view the aspect of the island equalled the expectations raised by the many well-known descriptions of its beautiful scenery. The sloping plain of the Pamplemousses, {scattered over}/{interspersed} with houses, and coloured {bright green by the large fields of sugar-cane}/{by the large fields of sugar-cane a bright green}, composed the foreground. The brilliancy of the green was the more remarkable because it is a colour which generally is {only conspicuous}/{conspicuous only} from a very short distance. Towards the centre of the island groups of wooded mountains rose out of this highly cultivated plain; their summits, as so commonly happens with ancient volcanic rocks, being jagged into the sharpest points. Masses of white clouds were collected around their/these pinnacles, as if for the sake of pleasing the stranger's eye. The whole island, with its sloping border and central mountains, was adorned with an air of perfect elegance: the scenery, if I may use such an expression, appeared to the senses/sight harmonious.

I spent the greater part of the next day in walking about the town and visiting different people. The town is of considerable size, and is said to contain 20,000 inhabitants; the streets are very clean and regular. Although the island has been so many years under the English Government, the general character of the place is quite French: Englishmen speak to their servants in French, and the shops are all French; indeed, I should think that Calais or Boulogne was much more Anglified. There is a very pretty little theatre, in which operas are excellently performed{, are are much preferred by the inhabitants to plays}/~. We were also surprised at seeing large booksellers' shops, with well-stored shelves;—music and reading bespeak our approach to the old world of civilization; for in truth both Australia and America {may be considered as}/{are} new worlds.

One of the most interesting spectacles in Port Louis, is to observe the various races of men which may be met in walking the streets.

The various races of men walking in the streets afford the most interesting spectacle in Port Louis.

Convicts from India are banished here for life; at present there are about 800, and they are employed in various public works. Before seeing these people, I had no idea that the inhabitants of India were such noble-looking figures. Their skin is extremely dark, and many of the older men had large mustaches and beards of a snow-white colour; this, together with the fire of their expressions/expression, gave them quite an imposing aspect. The greater number had been banished for murder and the worst crimes; others for causes which can scarcely be considered as moral faults, such as for not obeying, from superstitious motives, the English laws. These men are generally quiet and well-conducted; from their outward conduct, their cleanliness, and faithful observance of their strange religious enactments/rites, it was impossible to look at them with the same eyes as on our wretched convicts in New South Wales.

Besides these prisoners, large numbers of free people are yearly imported from India: for the planters were afraid that the negroes, when emancipated, would not work. From these causes the Indian population is here very considerable.


May 1st.—Sunday. I took a quiet walk along the sea-coast to the northward/north of the town. The plain in that/this part is quite uncultivated; it consists of a field of black lava, smoothed over with coarse grass and bushes, the latter being chiefly Mimosas.

Captain FitzRoy, before arriving here, said he expected the island would have a character intermediate between that of the Galapagos and Tahiti. This is a very exact comparison; but it will convey a definite idea to few, excepting to those who were on board the Beagle.

The scenery may be described as intermediate in character between that of the Galapagos and of Tahiti; but this will convey a definite idea to very few persons.

It is a very pleasant country, but it has not the charms of Tahiti, or the grandeur of {a Brazilian landscape}/{Brazil}. The next day I ascended La Pouce, a mountain so called from a thumb-like projection, which rises close behind the town to a height of 2,600 feet.

M. Lesson, in the voyage of the Coquille, has stated, that the central plain of the island appeared like the basin of a grand crater, and that La Pouce and the other mountains once formed parts of a connected wall.

The centre of the island consists of a great platform, surrounded by old broken basaltic mountains, with their strata dipping seawards. The central platform, formed of comparatively recent streams of lava, is of an oval shape, thirteen geographical miles across, in the line of its shorter axis. The exterior bounding mountains come into that class of structures called Craters of Elevation, which are supposed to have been formed not like ordinary craters, but by a great and sudden upheaval. There appears to me to be insuperable objections to this view: on the other hand, I can hardly believe, in this and in some other cases, that these marginal crateriform mountains are merely the basal remnants of immense volcanos, of which the summits either have been blown off, or swallowed up in subterranean abysses.

From our elevated position we enjoyed an excellent view over {this great mass of volcanic matter}/{the island}. The country on this side appears pretty well cultivated, {the whole}/~ being divided into fields and studded with farm-houses. I was, however, assured that of the whole land, not more than half is yet in a productive state; if such is/be the case, considering the present great/large export of sugar, this island, at some future period when thickly peopled, will be of great value. Since England has taken possession of it, a period of only twenty-five years, the export of sugar is said to have increased seventy-five fold.

One great cause of this prosperity is due to the excellent roads and means of communication throughout the island. At the present day, in the neighbouring Isle of Bourbon, which remains under the French government, the roads are in the same miserable state as they were only a few years past in this place. The Macadamizing art has, perhaps, been of even greater advantage to the colonies, than to the mother country. Although the French residents must have largely profited by the increased prosperity of their island, yet the English government is far from popular. It is unfortunate that there appears to exist scarcely any intercourse among the higher orders of French and English.

One great cause of its prosperity is the excellent state of the roads. In the neighbouring Isle of Bourbon, which remains under the French government, the roads are still in the same miserable state as they were here only a few years ago. Although the French residents must have largely profited by the increased prosperity of their island, yet the English government is far from popular.

{May 3d}/{3rd}.—In the evening Captain Lloyd, the Surveyor-general, so well known from his examination of the Isthmus of Panama, invited Mr. Stokes and myself to his country-house, which is situated on the edge of Wilheim Plains, and about six miles from the Port. We staid at this delightful place two days; {being elevated}/{standing} nearly 800 feet above the sea, the air was pleasantly/~ cool and fresh, and on every side there were delightful walks. Close by, {there is a grand ravine, which}/{a grand ravine} has been worn to a depth of about 500 feet through the slightly inclined streams of lava, which have flowed from the central platform.

5th.—Captain Lloyd took us to the Rivière Noire, which is several miles to the southward, {in orrder}/~ that I might examine some rocks of elevated coral. We passed through pleasant gardens, and fine fields of sugar-cane growing amidst huge blocks of lava. The roads were bordered by hedges of Mimosa, and near many of the houses there were avenues of the mango. Some of the views, where the peaked hills and the cultivated farms were seen together, were exceedingly picturesque; and we were constantly tempted to exclaim, “How pleasant it would be to pass one's life in such quiet abodes!” Captain Lloyd possessed an elephant, ~/and he sent it half way with us {on the road}/~, that we might enjoy a ride in true Indian fashion.

I should think, as is commonly said to be the case, that the motion must be fatiguing for a long journey.


The circumstance which surprised me most was its quite noiseless step. This elephant is the only one at present on the island; but it is said others will be sent for.

MAY 9TH.—We sailed from Port Louis, on our way to the Cape of Good Hope, and on the evening of the 31st anchored in Simon's Bay. The little town offers but a cheerless aspect to a stranger's eye. About a couple of hundred, square, whitewashed houses, with scarcely a single tree in the neighbourhood, and very few gardens, are scattered along the beach, at the foot of a lofty, steep, bare wall, of horizontally-stratified sandstone.

May 9th.—We sailed from Port Louis, and, calling at the Cape of Good Hope, …

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The next day I set out for Cape Town, which is twenty miles distant. Both towns are situated within the headlands, but at the opposite extremities of a range of mountains, which extending parallel to the mainland, is joined to it by a low sandy flat. The road skirted the base of these mountains: for the first fourteen miles the country is very desert, and with the exception of the pleasure which the sight of an entirely new vegetation never fails to communicate, there was very little of interest. The view however of the mountains on the opposite side of the flat, brightened by the declining sun, was fine. Within seven miles of Cape Town, in the neighbourhood of Wynberg, a great improvement was visible, and here the country-houses of the more wealthy residents of the capital are situated. The numerous woods of young Scotch firs and stunted oak-trees form the chief attraction of this locality. There is, indeed, a great charm in shade and retirement, after the unconcealed bleakness of so open a country as this. The houses and plantations are backed by a grand wall of mountains, which gives the scene a degree of uncommon beauty. I arrived late in the evening in Cape Town, and had a good deal of difficulty in finding quarters. In the morning several ships from India had arrived at this great inn on the great highway of nations, and they had disgorged on shore a host of passengers, all longing to enjoy the delights of a temperate climate. There is only one good hotel, so that strangers generally live in boarding-houses;—a very uncomfortable fashion to which I was obliged to conform, although I was fortunate in my quarters.

In the morning I walked to a neighbouring hill to look at the town. It is laid out with the rectangular precision of a Spanish city: the streets are in good order, and Macadamized, and some of them have rows of trees on each side; the houses are all whitewashed, and look clean. In several trifling particulars the town had a foreign air, but it is daily becoming more English. There is scarcely a resident, excepting amongst the lowest order, who does not speak some English. In this facility in becoming Anglefied, there appears to exist a wide difference between this colony and that of the Mauritius. It does not, however, arise from the popularity of the English; for the Dutch as well as the French, although they have profited to an immense degree by the English government, yet thoroughly dislike our whole nation.

All the fragments of the civilized world which we have visited in the southern hemisphere, appear to be flourishing: little embryo Englands are springing into life in many quarters. Although the Cape colony possesses only a moderately fertile country, it appears in a very prosperous condition. In one respect it suffers like New South Wales, namely, in the absence of water communication, and in the interior being separated from the coast by a high chain of mountains. This country does not possess coal; and there is no timber, excepting at a considerable distance. Hides, tallow, and wine are the chief exports, and latterly a considerable quantity of corn. The farmers are beginning also to pay attention to sheep-grazing,—a hint taken from Australia. It is no small triumph to Van Diemen's Land, that live sheep have been exported from a colony of thirty-three years standing, to this which was founded in 1651.

In Cape Town it is said that the present number of inhabitants is about 15,000, and in the whole colony, including coloured people, 200,000. Many different nations are here mingled together; the Europeans consist of Dutch, French, and English, and scattered people from other parts. The Malays, descendants of slaves brought from the East Indian archipelago, form a large body. They are a fine set of men, and can always be distinguished by a conical hat, like the roof of a circular thatched cottage, or by a red handkerchief on their heads. The number of negroes is not very great; and the Hottentots, the ill-treated aborigines of the country, are, I should think, in a still smaller proportion. The first object in Cape Town which strikes the eye of a stranger, is the number of bullock-waggons. Several times I saw eighteen, and I heard of twenty-four oxen being all yoked together in one team. Besides these, waggons with four, six, and eight horses in hand, go trotting about the streets. I have as yet not mentioned the well-known Table Mountain. This great mass of horizontally stratified sandstone rises quite close behind the town to a height of 3500 feet: the upper part forms an absolute wall, often reaching into the region of the clouds. I should think so high a mountain, not forming part of an extensive platform, and yet being composed of horizontal strata, must be a rare phenomenon. It certainly gives the landscape a very peculiar, and from some points of view, a grand character.

JUNE 4TH.—I set out on a short excursion to see the neighbouring country, but I saw so very little, that I have scarcely any thing to say. I hired a couple of horses, and a young Hottentot groom to accompany me as a guide. He spoke English very well, and was most tidily dressed; he wore a long coat, beaver hat, and white gloves! The Hottentots, or Hodmadods as old Dampier calls them, to my eye look like partially bleached negroes. They are of a small stature, and have most singularly-formed heads and faces: the temple and cheek-bones project so much, that the whole face is hidden from a person standing in the same side position in which he would be enabled to see part of the features of a European. Their hair is very short and curly.

Our first day's ride was to the village of the Paarl, situated between thirty and forty miles to the N.E. of Cape Town. After leaving the neighbourhood of the town, where white houses stand as if picked out of a street and then by chance dropped on the open country, we had to cross a wide level sandy flat, totally unfit for cultivation. In the hopes of finding some hard materials for making a road, the sands had been bored along the whole line to the depth of forty feet, but without any success. Leaving the flat, we crossed a low undulating country, thinly clothed with a slight green vegetation. It was not the flowering season, but even at this time of the year there were some very pretty oxalises and mesembryanthemums, and on the sandy spots fine tufts of heaths. There were also several beautiful little birds :—if a person could not find amusement in observing the animals and plants, there was very little else during the whole day to interest him: only here and there we passed a solitary farm-house.

Directly after arriving at the Paarl, I ascended a singular group of rounded granite hills, which rise close behind the village. From the summit I enjoyed a fine view of the line of mountains which I had to cross on the following morning. Their colours were gray or partly rusty red, and their outlines irregular, but far from picturesque: the general tint of the lower country was a pale brownish green, and the whole entirely destitute of woodland.* From the naked state of the mountains, seen likewise through a very clear atmosphere, I was reminded of Northern Chile; but the rocks there, possess at least a brilliant colouring. Immediately beneath the hill, the long village of the Paarl extended; all the houses were whitewashed, and appeared very comfortable; and there was not a single hovel. Each house had its garden and a few trees planted in straight rows; and there were many vineyards of considerable size, which at this time of year were destitute of leaves. The whole village possessed an air of quiet and respectable comfort.

* When the extreme southern part of Africa was first colonized, rhinoceroses (as I am informed by Dr. Andrew Smith) abounded over the whole of this district, and especially in the wooded valleys at the base of Table Mountain, where Cape Town now stands. I mention this in corroboration of the statement (p. 98), that a luxuriant vegetation is not at all necessary for the support of the larger quadrupeds. Having myself seen this district, which was formerly frequented by the huge rhinoceros, I am fully impressed with the truth of those views.

JUNE 5TH.—After riding about three hours, we came near to the French Hoeck pass. This is so called from a number of emigrant protestant Frenchmen, who formerly settled in a flat valley at the foot of the mountain: it is one of the prettiest places I saw in my excursion. The pass is a considerable work, an inclined road having been cut along the steep side of the mountain: it forms one of the principal roads from the low land of the coast, to the mountains and great plains of the interior. We reached the foot of the mountains on the opposite, or S. E. side of the pass, a little after noon. Here, at the toll-bar, we found comfortable lodgings for the night. The surrounding mountains were destitute of trees, and even of brushwood; but they supported a scattered vegetation of rather a brighter green than usual: the quantity, however, of white siliceous sandstone, every where protruding itself uncovered, gave to the country a bleak and desolate aspect.

6TH.—My intention was to return by Sir Lowry Cole's pass, over the same chain of mountains as before, but a little further to the south. Following unfrequented paths, we crossed an irregular hilly country until we joined the other line of road. During the whole long day, I met scarcely a single person, and saw but few inhabited spots, or any number of cattle. A few roebucks were grazing on the sides of the hills, and some large dirty white vultures, like the condors of America, slowly wheeled over the place where probably some dead animal was lying. There was not even a tree to break the monotonous uniformity of the sandstone hills: I never saw a much less interesting country. At night we slept at the house of an English farmer; and at an early hour the next day we descended by Sir Lowry's pass, which, like that of the French Hoeck, has been cut, at a great expense, along the flank of a steep mountain. From the summit, there was a noble view of the whole of False Bay, and of the Table Mountain, and, immediately below, of the cultivated country of Hottentot Holland. The flat, covered with sand-dunes did not appear, when viewed from this height, of the tedious length which we found it before we reached in the evening Cape Town.

JUNE 18TH.—We put to sea, and, on the 29th, crossed the Tropic of Capricorn for the sixth and last time.


On the 8th of July, we arrived off St. Helena. This island, the forbidding aspect of which has been so often described, rises like a huge castle from the ocean. A great wall, built of successive streams of black lava, forms around the whole circuit a bold coast.

… on the 8th of July, we arrived off St. Helena. This island, the forbidding aspect of which has been so often described, rises abruptly like a huge black castle from the ocean.

Near the town, as if in aid of the natural defence, small forts and guns are every where built up, and mingled with the rugged rocks.

Near the town, as if to complete nature's defence, small forts and guns fill up every gap in the rugged rocks.

The town extends/runs up a flat and very/~ narrow valley; the houses look respectable, and they/~ are interspersed with a very few green trees. When approaching the anchorage there is/was one striking view: an irregular castle perched on the summit of a lofty hill, and surrounded by a few scattered fir-trees, boldly projects/projected against the sky.

The next day I obtained lodgings within a stone's throw of Napoleon's tomb.* I confess, however, this had little attraction for me: but it was a capital central situation, whence I could make excursions in every direction. During the four days I staid here, from morning to night I wandered over the island, and examined its geological history.

The next day I obtained lodgings within a stone's throw of Napoleon's tomb;* it was a capital central situation, whence I could make excursions in every direction. During the four days I staid here, I wandered over the island from morning to night, and examined its geological history.

* After the volumes of eloquence which have poured forth on this subject, it is dangerous even to mention the tomb. A modern traveller, in twelve lines, burdens the poor little island with the following titles,—it is a grave, tomb, pyramid, cemetery, sepulchre, catacomb, sarcophagus, minaret, and mausoleum!

{The house}/{My lodgings} were situated at a height of about 2000 feet; here the weather was cold and very/~ boisterous, with constant showers of rain; and every now and then the whole scene was veiled in thick clouds.

Near the coast the rough lava is {entirely destitute of vegetation}/{quite bare}: in the central and higher parts, {a different series of rocks have from extreme decomposition}/{feldspathic rocks by their decomposition have} produced a clayey soil, which, where not covered by vegetation, is stained in broad bands of many bright colours.

At this season, the land moistened by constant showers, produces a singularly bright green pasture, this/which lower and lower down, gradually fades away and at last disappears. In latitude 16°, and at the trifling elevation of 1500 feet, it is surprising to behold a vegetation possessing a character decidedly British. The hills are crowned with irregular plantations of Scotch firs; and the sloping banks are thickly scattered over with thickets of gorse, covered with its bright yellow flowers. Weeping-willows are common {along the course}/{on the banks} of the rivulets, and the hedges are made of the blackberry, producing its well-known fruit. When we consider that the number of plants now found on the island is 746, and that out of these fifty-two alone are indigenous species, the rest having been imported, and most of them from England, we see {a good reason for this English}/{the reason of the British} character of the vegetation.

The numerous species which have been so recently introduced can hardly have failed to have destroyed some of the native kinds. I believe there is no accurate account of the state of the vegetation at the period when the island was covered with trees; such would have formed a most curious comparison with its present sterile condition, and limited Flora.


Many ~/{of these} English plants appear to flourish better here/~ than in their native country; some also from the opposite quarter of Australia succeed remarkably well. It/{The many imported species must have destroyed some of the native kinds; and it} is only on the highest and steepest ridges where/that the native/indigenous Flora is still/now predominant.

The English, or rather Welsh character of the scenery, is kept up by the numerous cottages and small white houses; some buried at the bottom of the deepest valleys, and others mounted on the crests of the lofty hills. Some of the views are very/~ striking, {I may}/{for} instance that from near Sir W. Doveton's house, where the bold peak called Lot is seen over a dark wood of firs, the whole being backed by the red water-worn mountains of the southern shore/coast. On viewing the island from an eminence, the first circumstance which strikes one, is the number of the roads and forts: the labour bestowed on the public works, if one forgets its character as a prison, seems out of all proportion to its extent or value. There is so little level or useful land, that it seems surprising how so many people, about 5000, can subsist here. The lower orders, or the emancipated slaves, are I believe extremely poor: they complain of the want of work{, a fact which is likewise shown by the very cheap labour}/~. From the reduction in the number of public servants owing to the island having been given up by the East Indian Company, and the consequent emigration of many of the richer people, the poverty probably will increase. The chief food of the working class is rice with a little salt meat; as neither of these articles are the products of the island, but must be purchased with money, the low wages tell heavily on the poor people.

The fine times, as my old guide called them, when “Bony” was here, can never return again.


Now that the people are blessed with freedom, a right which I believe they value fully, it seems probable that their numbers will quickly increase: if so, what is to become of the little state of St. Helena?

My guide was an elderly man, who had been a goatherd when a boy, and knew every step amongst the rocks. He was of a race many times crossed, and although with a dusky skin, he had not the disagreeable expression of a mulatto. He was a very civil, quiet old man, and such appears the character of the greater number among/of the lower classes. It was strange to my ears to hear a man, nearly white and respectably dressed, talking with indifference of the times when he was a slave. With my companion, who carried our dinner/dinners and a horn of water, which is quite necessary, as all the water in the lower valleys is saline, I every day took long walks.

Beneath the {limits of the elevated}/{upper} and central green circle, the wild valleys are quite desolate and untenanted. Here, to the geologist, there are/were scenes of high interest, {which show the}/{showing} successive changes and complicated disturbances {which have in past times happened}/~. According to my views, St. Helena has existed as an island from a very remote epoch: some obscure proofs, however, of the elevation of the land are still extant. I believe that the central and highest peaks form parts of the rim of a great crater, the southern half of which has been ~/entirely removed by the waves of the sea:

There is, moreover, an external margin of black volcanic rocks, which belong to an anterior condition of things. These have been dislocated and broken up by forces acting from below, so that the confusion in structure from these different causes is extreme.

there is, moreover, an external wall of black basaltic rocks, like the coast-mountains of Mauritius, which are older than the central volcanic streams.

On the higher parts of the island considerable numbers of shells occur embedded in the soil, which have always been supposed to be of marine origin: and the fact has been adduced as a proof of the retreat of the sea.

On the higher parts of the island, considerable numbers of a shell, long thought to be a marine species occur imbedded in the soil.

The shell turns out to be a Bulimus, or terrestrial species.

It proved to be a Cochlogena, or land-shell of a very peculiar form;* with it I found six other kinds; and in another spot an eighth species.

* It deserves notice, that all the many specimens of this shell found by me in one spot, differ as a marked variety, from another set of specimens procured from a different spot.

It is however very remarkable, that it is not now found in a living state: a circumstance which in all probability may be attributed to

It is remarkable that none of them are now found living. Their extinction has probably been caused by

the entire destruction of the woods, and consequent loss of food and shelter, which occurred during the early part of the last century.

The history of the changes, which the elevated plains of Longwood and Deadwood have undergone, as given in General Beatson's account of the island, is extremely curious. {It is said the plain}/{Both plains, it is said} in former times was/were covered with wood, and was/were therefore called the Great Wood. So late as the year 1716 there were many trees {upon it}/~, but in 1724 the old trees had mostly fallen; and as goats and hogs {were at that time}/{had been} suffered to range about, all the young trees had been devoured/killed. It appears also from the official records, that the trees were unexpectedly, some years afterwards, succeeded by indigenous/a wire grass which now/~ spread over {its whole extent}/{the whole surface}.*

* Beatson's St. Helena. Introductory chapter, p. 4.

He then adds, “These are curious facts, since they trace the changes which this remarkable spot of land has undergone, for now this formerly naked plain (after the trees had fallen) is covered with fine sward, and is become the finest piece of pasture on the island.”

General Beaton adds that now this plain “is covered with fine sward, and is become the finest piece of pasture on the island.”

The extent of surface, {which was}/~ probably covered by wood at a former period, is estimated at no less than two thousand acres; at the present day scarcely a ~/single tree can be found there. It is ~/also said that in 1709 there were quantities of dead wood/trees in Sandy Bay; this place is now so utterly desert, that nothing but so well attested an account could make/{have made} me believe that {trees had ever existed}/{they could ever have grown} there. The fact, that the goats and hogs destroyed all the young trees as they sprung/sprang up, and that in the course of time the old ones, which were safe from their attacks, perished from age, seems clearly made out. Goats were introduced in the year 1502; eighty-six years afterwards, in the time of Cavendish, it is known that they were exceedingly numerous. More than a century afterwards, in 1731, when the evil was {completed and found}/{complete and} irretrievable, an order was issued that all stray animals should be destroyed.

When at Valparaiso, I heard it positively affirmed, that the Sandal-wood tree had been found on the island of Juan Fernandez in considerable numbers, but that all without exception were standing dead. At the time, I thought it was some mysterious case of the natural death of a species; but when it is remembered, that goats for very many years have abounded on that island, it seems most probable that the young trees were prevented growing, and that the old ones perished from age.


It is {a very interesting fact, to observe}/{very interesting thus to find,} that the arrival of animals at St. Helena in 1501, did not change the whole aspect of the island, until a period of two hundred and twenty years had elapsed: for the goats were introduced in 1502, and in 1724 it is said “the old trees had mostly fallen.”

There can be no doubt, this change affected not only the Bulimus and probably some other land shells (of which I obtained specimens from the same bed), but likewise a multitude of insects.

There can be little doubt that this great change in the vegetation affected not only the land-shells, causing eight species to become extinct, but likewise a multitude of insects.

St. Helena, situated so remote from any continent, in the midst of a great ocean, and possessing a unique Flora,{—this little world within itself,—}/~ excites our curiosity.


The eight land-shells, though now extinct, and one living Succinea, are peculiar species found nowhere else. Mr. Cuming, however, informs me that an English Helix is common here, its eggs no doubt having been imported in some of the many introduced plants. Mr. Cuming collected on the coast sixteen species of sea-shells, of which seven, as far as he knows, are confined to this island.

Birds and insects,* as might have been expected, are very few in number; indeed I believe all the birds have been introduced within late years. Partridges and pheasants are tolerably abundant; the island is much too English not to be subject to strict game-laws. I was told of a more unjust sacrifice to such ordinances than I ever heard of even in England. The poor people formerly used to burn a plant, which grows on the coast-rocks, and export soda/{the soda from its ashes}; but a peremptory order came out prohibiting this practice, and giving as a reason that the partridges would have nowhere to build!

* Among these few insects, I was surprised to find a small Aphodius (nov. spec.) and an Oryctes, both extremely common/numerous under dung. When the island was discovered it certainly possessed no quadruped, excepting perhaps a mouse: it becomes, therefore, a difficult point to ascertain, whether these stercovorous insects have since been imported by accident, or if aborigines, on what food they formerly subsisted. On the banks of the Plata, where, from the vast number of cattle and horses, the fine plains of turf are richly manured, it is vain to seek the many kinds of dung-feeding beetles, which occur so abundantly in Europe. I observed only an Oryctes (the insects of this genus in Europe generally feed on decayed vegetable matter) and two species of Phanaeus, common in such situations. On the opposite side of the Cordillera in Chiloe, another species of {this genus}/{Phanaeus} is exceedingly abundant, and it buries the dung of the cattle in large earthen balls beneath the ground. There is reason to believe that the genus Phanaeus, before the introduction of cattle, acted as scavengers to man. In {Great Britain these}/{Europe,} beetles, which find support in the matter which has already contributed towards the life of other and larger animals, are so numerous that {I suppose ther are at least}/{there must be considerably more than} one hundred different kinds/species. Considering this, and observing what a quantity of food of this kind is thus/~ lost on the plains of La Plata, I imagined I saw an instance where man had disturbed that chain, by which so many animals are linked together in their native country.

  To this view, however, Van Diemen's Land offers an exception (in the same manner as St. Helena does in a much lesser degree), for I found there four species of Onthophagus, two of Aphodius, and one of a third genus, very abundant under the dung of cows; yet these latter animals had then been introduced only thirty-three years.

In Van Diemen's Land, however, I found four species of Onthophagus, two of Aphodius, and one of a third genus, very abundantly under the dung of cows; yet these latter animals had been then introduced only thirty-three years.

  Previously/Previous to that time the kangaroo and some other small animals were the only quadrupeds; and their dung is of a very different quality from that of their successors introduced by man. In England the greater number of stercovorous beetles are confined in their appetites; that is, they do not depend indifferently on any quadruped for the means of subsistence. The change, therefore, in habits which must have taken place in Van Diemen's Land is highly remarkable. I am indebted to the Rev. F. W. Hope, who, I hope, will permit me to call him my master in Entomology, for {information respecting the foregoing, and other insects}/{giving me the names of the foregoing insects}.

In my walks I passed more than once over the grassy plain bounded by deep valleys, on which Longwood stands. Viewed from a short distance, it appears like a respectable gentleman's country-seat. In front there are a few cultivated fields, and beyond them the smooth hill of coloured rocks called the Flagstaff, and the ~/rugged square black mass of the Barn. On the whole the view was rather bleak and uninteresting.

The scrupulous degree to which the coast must formerly have been guarded, is quite extraordinary: there are alarm houses, alarm guns, and alarm stations on every peak. I was much struck with the number of forts and picket houses, on the line leading down to Prosperous Bay. One would have supposed that this at least was an easy descent: I found it however a mere goat-path, and in one spot the use of ropes, which were fixed into rings in the cliff, were almost indispensable. At the present day two artillery-men are kept there; for what use it is not easy to conjecture. Prosperous Bay, although with so flourishing a name, has nothing more attractive than a wild sea-beach, and black utterly barren rocks.


The only inconvenience I suffered in my walks, was from the impetuous winds. One day I noticed a curious circumstance: standing on the edge of a plain, terminated by a great cliff of about a thousand feet in depth, I saw at the distance of a few yards right to windward, some tern, struggling against a very strong breeze, whilst, where I stood, the air was quite calm.

Approaching close to the brink, I stretched out my arm, which immediately felt the full force of the wind: an invisible barrier of two yards wide, separated a strongly agitated from a perfectly calm air. The current meeting the bold face of the cliff, must have been reflected upwards at a certain angle, within which plane there necessarily would be either an eddy or a calm.

Approaching close to the brink, where the current seemed to be deflected upwards from the face of the cliff, I stretched out my arm, and immediately felt the full force of the wind: an invisible barrier, two yards in width, separated perfectly calm air from a strong blast.

I so much enjoyed my rambles among the rocks and mountains of St. Helena, that I felt almost sorry on the morning of the 14th to descend to the town. Before noon I was on board, and the Beagle made sail {for Ascension}/~.

We reached the anchorage of the latter place on the evening of the 19th (July).

On the 19th of July we reached Ascension.

Those who have beheld a volcanic island, situated under an arid climate, will {be able at once}/{at once be able} to picture to themselves the aspect/appearance of Ascension. They will imagine smooth conical hills of a bright red colour, with their summits generally truncated, rising distinct/separately out of a level surface of black rugged lava. A principal mound in the centre of the island, seems the father of the lesser cones. It is called Green Hill: its name is/being taken from the faintest tinge of that colour, which at this time of the year was/is barely perceptible from the anchorage. To complete this/the desolate scene, the black rocks on the coast are lashed by a wild and turbulent sea.

The settlement is near the beach; it consists of several houses and barracks placed irregularly, but well built of white freestone. The only inhabitants are marines, and some negroes liberated from slave-ships, who are paid and victualled by government. There is not a private person on the island. Many of the marines appeared well contented with their situation; they think it better to serve their one-and-twenty years on shore, let it be what it may, than in a ship; in this choice, if I were a marine, I should most heartily agree.

The next morning I ascended Green Hill, 2840 feet high, and thence walked across the island to the windward point. A good cart-road leads from the coast-settlement to the houses, gardens, and fields, placed near the summit of the central mountain. On the roadside there are milestones, and likewise cisterns, where each thirsty passer-by can drink some good water. Similar care is displayed in each part of the establishment, and especially in the management of the springs, so that a single drop of water shall/may not be lost: indeed the whole island may be compared to a huge ship kept in first-rate order. I could not help, when admiring the active industry, which had created such effects out of such means, at the same time regretting that it was/{had been} wasted on so poor and trifling an end. M. Lesson has remarked with justice, that the English nation would have thought of making the island of Ascension a productive spot, any other people would have held it {without any further views,}/~ as a mere fortress in the ocean.

Near the/this coast nothing grows; {a little}/{further} inland, an occasional green castor-oil plant, and a few grasshoppers, true friends of the desert, may be met with. Some grass is scattered over the surface of the central elevated region, and the whole much resembles the worse parts of the Welsh mountains. But scanty as the pasture appears, about six hundred sheep, many goats, a few cows and horses, all thrive well on it. Of native animals, {rats and land-crabs}/{land-crabs and rats} swarm in numbers.


Whether the rat is really indigenous, may well be doubted; there are two varieties as described by Mr. Waterhouse; one is of a black colour, with fine glossy fur, and lives on the grassy summit, the other is brown-coloured and less glossy, with longer hairs, and lives near the settlement on the coast. Both these varieties are one-third smaller than the common black rat (M. rattus); and they differ from it both in the colour and character of their fur, but in no other essential respect. I can hardly doubt that these rats (like the common mouse, which has also run wild) have been imported, and, as at the Galapagos, have varied from the effect of the new conditions to which they have been exposed: hence the variety on the summit of the island differs from that on the coast.

Of native birds there are none; but the guinea-fowl, imported from the Cape de Verd Islands, is abundant, and the common fowl has likewise run wild. Some cats, which were originally turned out to destroy the rats and mice, have increased, so as to become a great plague. The island is entirely {destitute of}/{without} trees, in which, and in every other respect, it is very far inferior to St. Helena.

Mr. Dring tells me, that the witty people of the latter place say, “we know we live on a rock, but the poor people of Ascension live on a cinder :” the distinction in truth is very just.

On the succeeding days, I took long walks and examined some rather curious points in the mineralogical composition of some of the volcanic rocks, to which I was guided by the kindness of Lieut. Evans. On the basaltic masses, which are daily washed by the tide, most curious calcareous incrustations have been deposited. They resemble in form certain cryptogamic plants, especially the Marchantiæ; their surface is perfectly smooth and glossy, and their colour black, which seems owing to animal matter. I have shown these incrustations to several geologists, and not one guessed their true origin. Any one would suppose that they had been the product of fire, rather than of a deposition of calcareous matter, now constantly undergoing a round of decay and renovation from the action of the breakers. Near the settlement where these incrustations occur, there is a large beach of calcareous sand, entirely composed of comminuted and rounded fragments of shells and corals. The lower part of this, from the percolation of water containing calcareous matter in solution, soon becomes consolidated, and is used as a building stone; but some of the layers are too hard for freestone, and when struck by the hammer ring like flint.

The main line of beach is directed N.E. and S.W.; Lieutenant Evans informs me, that during the six months included between the 1st of April and the 1st of October, the sand accumulates towards the N.E. extremity, and during the other six it travels back again towards the S.W. end. This periodical movement is due to a change in the direction of the swell, which is influenced by the general direction of the trade-wind, during the two periods of the year. Lieutenant Evans also informs me that during the six years he has resided on this island, he has always observed, that in the months of October and November, when the sand commences travelling towards the S.W., the rocks which are situated at that end of the long beach, become coated by a white, thick, and very hard calcareous layer. I saw portions of this remarkable deposit, which had been protected by an accumulation of sand. In the year 1831 it was much thicker than during any other period. It would appear that the water, charged with calcareous matter by the disturbance of a vast mass of calcareous particles, only partially cemented together, deposits this substance on the first rocks against which it impinges. But the most singular circumstance is, that in the course of a couple of months this layer is either abraded or redissolved, so that after that period, it entirely disappears. It is curious thus to trace the origin of a periodical incrustation on certain isolated rocks, to the motion of the earth with relation to the sun; for this determines the atmospheric currents, which give the direction to the swell of the ocean, and this acts on the arrangement of the sea-beach, and this again on the quantity of calcareous matter held in solution by the waters of the neighbouring sea.


One of my excursions took me towards the S. W. extremity of the island. The day was clear and hot, and I saw the island, not smiling with beauty, but staring with naked hideousness. The lava streams are covered with hummocks, and are rugged to a degree which, geologically speaking, is not of easy explanation. The intervening spaces are concealed with layers of pumice, ashes and volcanic tuft/tuff.

In some parts rounded volcanic bombs, which must have assumed this form, when projected red-hot from the crater, lie strewed on the surface.


Whilst passing {at sea this end of the island}/{this end of the island} at sea, I could not imagine what {was the nature of}/~ the white patches ~/were with which the whole plain was mottled; I now found ~/that they were seafowl, {which were}/~ sleeping in such full confidence, that even in midday a man could walk up to/~ and seize hold of them. These birds were the only living creatures I saw during the ~/whole day. On the beach a great surf, although the breeze was light, was/came tumbling over the broken lava rocks.


The geology of this island is in many respects interesting. In several places I noticed volcanic bombs, that is, masses of lava which have been shot through the air whilst fluid, and have consequently assumed a spherical or pear-shape. Not only their external form, but, in several cases, their internal structure shows in a very curious manner that they have revolved in their aerial course. The internal structure of one of these bombs, when broken, is represented very accurately in the woodcut. The central part is coarsely cellular, the cells decreasing in size towards the exterior; where there is a shell-like case about the third of an inch in thickness, of compact stone, which again is overlaid by the outside crust of finely cellular lava. I think there can be little doubt, first that the external crust cooled rapidly in the state in which we now see it; secondly, that the still fluid lava within, was packed by the centrifugal force, generated by the revolving of the bomb, against the external cooled crust, and so produced the solid shell of stone; and lastly, that the centrifugal force, by relieving the pressure in the more central parts of the bomb, allowed the heated vapours to expand their cells, thus forming the coarse cellular mass of the centre.

A hill, formed of the older series of volcanic rocks, and which has been incorrectly considered as the crater of a volcano, is remarkable from its broad, slightly hollowed, and circular summit having been filled up with many successive layers of ashes and fine scoriae. These saucer-shaped layers crop out on the margin, forming perfect rings of many different colours, giving to the summit a most fantastic appearance; one of these rings is white and broad, and resembles a course round which horses have been exercised; hence the hill has been called the Devil's Riding School. I brought away specimens of one of the tufaceous layers of a pinkish colour and it is a most extraordinary fact, that Professor Ehrenberg* finds it almost wholly composed of matter which has been organized: he detects in it some siliceous-shielded fresh-water infusoria, and no less than twenty-five different kinds of the siliceous tissue of plants, chiefly of grasses. From the absence of all carbonaceous matter, Professor Ehrenberg believes that these organic bodies have passed through the volcanic fire, and have been erupted in the state in which we now see them. The appearance of the layers induced me to believe that they had been deposited under water, though from the extreme dryness of the climate I was forced to imagine, that torrents of rain had probably fallen during some great eruption, and that thus a temporary lake had been formed into which the ashes fell. But it may now be suspected that the lake was not a temporary one. Anyhow, we may feel sure, that at some former epoch the climate and productions of Ascension were very different from what they now are. Where on the face of the earth can we find a spot, on which close investigation will not discover signs of that endless cycle of change, to which this earth has been, is, and will be subjected?

* Monats. der Konig. Akad. d. Wiss. zu Berlin. Vom April, 1845.

Upon leaving Ascension the ship's head was directed towards the coast of South America, and on August 1st, we anchored at Bahia or San Salvador. We staid here four days, in which time I took several long walks.

On leaving Ascension, we sailed for Bahia, on the coast of Brazil, in order to complete the chronometrical measurement of the world. We arrived there on August 1st, and stayed four days, during which I took several long walks.

I was glad to find my enjoyment in tropical scenery had not decreased {even in the slightest degree}/~ from the want of novelty{~}/{, even in the slightest degree}. The elements of the scenery are so simple, that they are worth mentioning, as a proof on what trifling circumstances exquisite natural beauty depends.

The country may be described as a level plain of about three hundred feet in elevation, which in {every part}/{all parts} has been worn into flat-bottomed valleys. This structure is remarkable in a granitic land, but is nearly universal in all those softer formations of which plains {usually are}/{are usually} composed. The whole surface is covered by various kinds of stately trees, interspersed with patches of cultivated ground, out of which houses, convents, and chapels arise. It must be remembered that within the tropics, the wild luxuriance of nature is not lost even in the vicinity of large cities: for the natural vegetation of the hedges and hill-sides overpowers in picturesque effect the artificial labour of man. Hence, there are only a few spots where the bright red soil affords a strong contrast with the universal clothing of green. From the edges of the plain there are distant glimpses/views either of the ocean, or of the great Bay {bordered by}/{with its} low-wooded shores, and on {the surface of}/~ which numerous boats and canoes show their white sails. Excepting from these points, the {range of vision}/{scene} is very/extremely limited; following the level pathways, on each hand, {alternate peeps}/{only glimpses} into the wooded valleys below can be obtained. {Finally, I may add that the houses}/{The houses I may add}, and especially the sacred edifices, are built in a peculiar and rather fantastic style of architecture. They are all whitewashed; so that when illuminated/illumined by the brilliant sun of midday, and as seen against the pale blue sky of the horizon, they stand out more like shadows than real buildings.

Such are the elements of the scenery, but {to paint the effect is a hopeless endeavour}/{it is a hopeless attempt to paint the general effect}. Learned naturalists describe these scenes of the tropics by naming a multitude of objects, and mentioning some characteristic feature of each. To a learned traveller this possibly may communicate some definite ideas: but who else from seeing a plant in an herbarium can imagine its appearance when growing in its native soil? Who from seeing choice plants in a hothouse, can magnify some into the dimensions of forest trees, and crowd others into an entangled jungle? Who when examining in the cabinet of the entomologist the gay exotic butterflies, and singular cicadas, will associate with these ~/lifeless objects, the ceaseless harsh music of the latter, and the lazy flight of the former,—the sure accompaniments of the still, glowing noon-day of the tropics? It is when the sun has attained its greatest height, that such scenes should be beheld/viewed: then the dense splendid foliage of the mango hides the ground with its darkest shade, whilst the upper branches are rendered from the profusion of light of the most brilliant green. In the temperate zones{, as it appears to me,}/~ the case is different—the vegetation there is not so dark or so rich, and hence the rays of the declining sun, tinged of a red, purple, or ~/bright yellow color, add most to the beauties {of the scenery}/~ of those climes.

When quietly walking along the shady pathways, and admiring each successive view, {one wishes}/{I wished} to find language to express one's/my ideas. Epithet after epithet is/was found too weak to convey to those who have not visited the intertropical regions, the sensation of delight which the mind experiences. I have said ~/that the plants in a hothouse fail to communicate a just idea of the vegetation, yet I must recur to it. The land is one great wild, untidy, luxuriant hothouse, {which nature made for her managerie}/{made by Nature for herself}, but {man has taken possesion of it, and}/{taken possession of by man, who} has studded it with gay houses and formal gardens. How great would be the desire in every admirer of nature to behold, if such were possible, ~/{the scenery of} another planet! yet to every one/person in Europe, it may be truly said, that at the distance of only a few degrees from his native soil, the glories of another world are opened to him. In my last walk I stopped again and again to gaze on these beauties, and endeavoured to fix {for ever}/~ in my mind ~/{for ever}, an impression which at the time I knew sooner or later must fail. The form of the orange-tree, the cocoa-nut, the palm, the mango, the tree-fern, the banana, will remain clear and separate; but the thousand beauties which unite these into one perfect scene must fade away: yet they will leave, like a tale heard in childhood, a picture full of indistinct, but most beautiful figures.

August 6th.—In the afternoon we stood out to sea, with the intention of making a direct course to the Cape de Verd Islands. Unfavourable winds, however, delayed us, and on the 12th we ran into Pernambuco,—a large city on the coast of Brazil, in latitude 8° south. We anchored outside the reef; but in a short time a pilot came on board and took us into the inner harbour, where we lay close to the town.

Pernambuco is built on some narrow and low sand-banks, which are separated from each other by shoal channels of salt water. The three parts of the town are connected together by two long bridges built on wooden piles. The town is in all parts disgusting, the streets being narrow, ill-paved, and filthy; the houses {are very}/, tall and gloomy.

The number of white people, which during the morning may be met with in the streets, bears about the proportion of foreigners in any other nation; all the rest are black or of a dusky colour. The latter, as well as the Brazilians, are far from prepossessing in their appearance. The poor negroes, wherever they may be, are cheerful, talkative, and boisterous. There was nothing in the sight, smell, or sounds within this large town, which conveyed to my mind any pleasing impressions.

The season of heavy rains had hardly come to an end, and hence the surrounding country, which is scarcely raised above the level of the sea, was flooded with water; and I failed in all my attempts to take walks.

The flat swampy land on which Pernambuco stands is surrounded, at the distance of a few miles, by a semicircle of low hills, or rather by the edge of a country elevated perhaps two hundred feet above the sea. The old city of Olinda stands on one extremity of this range. One day I took a canoe, and proceeded up one of the channels to visit it; I found the old town from its situation both sweeter and cleaner than that of Pernambuco. I must here commemorate what happened for the first time during {the four-and-a-half years we have been wandering about}/{our nearly five years' wandering}, namely, having met with a want of politeness {amongst any class of people}/~. I was refused in a sullen manner at two different houses, and obtained with difficulty from a third, permission to pass through their gardens to an uncultivated hill, for the purpose of {taking a view of}/{viewing} the country. I feel quite/~ glad that this happened in the land of the {“Brava Gente,”}/{Brazilians,} for I bear them no good will—a land also of slavery, and therefore of moral debasement. A Spaniard would have felt ashamed at the ~/very thought of refusing such a request, or of behaving to a stranger with rudeness. The channel by which we went to and returned from Olinda, was bordered on each side by mangroves, which sprang like a miniature forest out of the greasy mud-banks. The bright green colour of these bushes always reminded me of the rank grass in a church-yard: both are nourished by putrid exhalations; the one speaks of death past, and the other too often of death to come.

The most curious object which I saw in this neighbourhood, was the reef that forms the harbour.


I doubt whether in the whole world any other natural structure has so artificial an appearance.*

* I have described this Bar in detail, in the Lond. and Edin. Phil. Mag., vol. xix. (1841), p. 257.

It runs for a length of several miles in {a perfectly}/{an absolutely} straight line, parallel to, and not far distant from, the shore. It varies in width from thirty to sixty yards{; it is dry at low water, has a level smooth surface, and}/{, and its surface is level and smooth; it} is composed of obscurely stratified hard sandstone.

Hence, at first sight, it is difficult to credit that it is the work of nature, and not of art. Its utility is great; close within the inner wall there is a good depth of water, and ships lie moored to old guns, which are fixed in holes on its summit. A lighthouse stands on one extremity, and around it the sea breaks heavily. In entering the harbour, a ship passes within thirty yards of this point, and amidst the foam of the breakers; close by, on the other hand, are other breakers, which thus form a narrow gateway. It is almost fearful to behold a ship running, as it appears, headlong into such dangers.

With respect to the origin of the reef, I believe a bar composed of sand and pebbles formerly existed beneath the water (a circumstance no ways improbable) when the low land, on which the town now stands, was occupied by a large bay; and that this bar was first consolidated, and then elevated. These two processes are of such frequent occurrence in South America, that there can be no objection to using them in accounting for any remarkable structure in the land. There is another and slightly different explanation which possesses equal probability, namely, that a long spit of sand, like some that now run parallel to parts of the neighbouring coast, had its central part consolidated, and then by a slight change in the set of currents, the loose matter removed, so that the hard nucleus alone was left. Although the swell of the open ocean breaks heavily on the outside of this narrow and insignificant line of reef, yet there is no record of its decay. This durability is much the most curious circumstance in its history. Its protection appears due to a layer of calcareous matter, formed by the successive growth of several kinds of organic bodies, chiefly serpulæ, balani, nulliporæ, but no true corals. It is a process strictly analogous to the formation of peat; and like that substance, its effects are to preserve from degradation the matter on which it rests. In true coral reefs, when the upper extremities of the living mass are killed by the rays of the sun, they become enveloped and protected by a nearly similar process. It is probable, that if a breakwater, such as that at Plymouth, was built in these tropical seas, it would be imperishable; that is, as imperishable as any part of the solid land, all of which must some day suffer decay and renovation.

At high water the waves break over it; at low water its summit is left dry, and it might then be mistaken for a breakwater erected by Cyclopean workmen. On this coast the currents of the sea tend to throw up in front of the land, long spits and bars of loose sand, and on one of these, part of the town of Pernambuco stands. In former times a long spit of this nature seems to have become consolidated by the percolation of calcareous matter, and afterwards to have been gradually upheaved; the outer and loose parts during this process having been worn away by the action of the sea, and the solid nucleus left as we now see it. Although night and day the waves of the open Atlantic, turbid with sediment, are driven against the steep outside edges of this wall of stone, yet the oldest pilots know of no tradition of any change in its appearance. This durability is much the most curious fact in its history: it is due to a tough layer, a few inches thick, of calcareous matter, wholly formed by the successive growth and death of the small shells of Serpulae, together with some few barnacles and nulliporae. These nulliporae, which are hard, very simply-organized sea-plants, play an analogous and important part in protecting the upper surfaces of coral-reefs, behind and within the breakers, where the true corals, during the outward growth of the mass, become killed by exposure to the sun and air. These insignificant organic beings, especially the Serpulae, have done good service to the people of Pernambuco; for without their protective aid the bar of sandstone would inevitably have been long ago worn away and without the bar, there would have been no harbour.

On the 17th we took our final leave of the coast of South America, and on the last day of the month anchored at Porto Praya. We staid there only five days, and on the 5th of September steered for the Azores. On the 19th we anchored off the town of Angra, the capital of Terceira.

This island is moderately lofty, and has a rounded outline, with detached conical hills evidently of volcanic origin. The land is well cultivated, and is divided into a multitude of rectangular fields by stone walls, extending from the water's edge to high up on the central hills. There are few or no trees, and the yellow stubble land at this time of the year gave a burnt-up and unpleasant character to the scenery. Small hamlets and single whitewashed houses are scattered in all parts. In the evening a party went on shore: we found the city a very clean and tidy little place, containing about 10,000 inhabitants, which includes nearly the fourth part of the total number on the island. There are no good shops, and there is little appearance of activity, excepting the intolerable creaking of an occasional bullock-waggon. The churches are very respectable, and there were formerly a good many convents; but Dom Pedro destroyed several. He levelled three nunneries to the ground, and gave permission to the nuns to marry, which, except by some very old ones, was gladly received.

Angra was formerly the capital of the whole Archipelago, but it has now only one division of the islands under its government, and its glory has departed. The city is defended by a strong castle on Mount Brazil, and by a line of batteries encircling the base of this extinct volcano, which overlooks the town. Terceira was the first place that received Dom Pedro, and from this beginning he conquered the other islands, and finally Portugal. A loan was scraped together in this one island of no less than 400,000 dollars, of which sum not one farthing has ever been paid to these first supporters of the present right royal and honourable family.

The next day the Consul kindly lent me his horse, and furnished me with guides to proceed to a spot in the centre of the island, which was described as an active crater. Ascending in deep lanes, bordered on each side by high stone walls, for the three first miles we passed many houses and gardens. We then entered on a very irregular country, consisting of more recent streams of hummocky basaltic lava. The rocks are covered in some parts by a thick brushwood about three feet high, and in others by heath, fern, and short pasture: a few broken down old stone walls completed the resemblance with the mountains of Wales. I saw, moreover, some old English friends amongst the insects; and of birds, the starling, water-wagtail, chaffinch, and blackbird. There are no houses in this elevated and central part, and the ground is only used for the pasture of cattle and goats. On every side besides the ridges of more ancient lavas, there were cones of various dimensions, which still partly retained their crater-formed summits; and where broken down, showed a pile of cinders, such as those from an iron-foundry.

When we reached the so-called crater, I found it consisted of a slight depression, or rather of a short valley abutting against a higher range and without any exit. The bottom was traversed by several large fissures, out of which, in nearly a dozen places, small jets of steam issued as from the cracks in the boiler of a steam engine. The steam close to the irregular orifices was far too hot for the hand to endure it. It had but little smell, yet from every thing made of iron being blackened, and from a peculiar rough sensation communicated to the skin, the vapour cannot be pure; I imagine it contains some muriatic acid. The effect on the surrounding trachytic lava was singular, the solid stone being entirely converted either into pure snow-white porcelain clay, or into a kind of the brightest red, or the two colours were marbled together. The steam has thus been emitted during many years; and it is said that flames once issued from the cracks. During rain, the water from each bank must flow into these cracks; and it is probable that this same water trickling down to the neighbourhood of some heated subterranean lava, causes the above effects. Throughout the island, the powers from below have been unusually active during the last year; several small earthquakes have been felt, and during a few days a jet of steam issued from a bold precipice (part of Mount Brazil) overhanging the sea, not far from the town of Angra.

I enjoyed my day's ride, though I did not find much worth seeing. It was pleasant to meet the peasantry; I do not recollect ever having beheld a set of handsomer young men, with more goodhumoured expressions. The greater number whom we met, were employed in the mountains gathering sticks for firewood. A whole family, from the father to the least boy, might be seen, each carrying his bundle on his head to sell in the town. Their burdens were very heavy; this hard labour and the ragged state of their clothes plainly bespoke poverty; yet I am told it is not that they want food, but there is an absence of all luxuries,—a case parallel to that of Chiloe. Hence, although the whole land is not cultivated, numbers are emigrating to Brazil, where the contract to which they are bound differs but little from slavery. It seems a great pity that so fine a population should be compelled to leave a land of plenty, where every article of food—meat, vegetables, and fruit—is exceedingly cheap and most abundant: but the labourer finds his labour of proportionally little value.

Another day I set out early in the morning to visit the town of Praya situated towards the N.E. extremity of the island. The distance is about fifteen miles; the road ran during the greater part of the way, not far from the coast. The country is all cultivated, and scattered over with houses and small villages. I noticed in several places, that the solid lava, which in part formed the road, was worn into ruts of the depth of twelve inches from the long traffic of the bullock-waggons. This circumstance has been noticed with surprise in the ancient pavement of Pompeii, for it does not occur in any of the present towns of Italy. The waggon-wheels here have a tire surmounted by singularly large knobs of iron; perhaps the old Roman wheels were thus furnished. The country during our morning's ride was not interesting; excepting always when enlivened by the pleasant sight of the healthy peasantry. The harvest was lately over, and near the houses, the fine yellow heads of the Indian corn were tied in large bundles, to be dried, to the poplar-trees; and these, seen from a distance, appeared weighed down by some beautiful fruit,—the very emblem of fertility.

One part of the road crossed a broad stream of lava, which from its rocky and black surface seemed to be of comparatively recent origin : indeed, the crater, whence it had flowed, could be distinguished. The industrious inhabitants have turned this space into vineyards; but for this purpose it was necessary to clear away the loose fragments, and to pile them up into a multitude of walls, which enclose little patches of ground a few yards square, thus covering the country with a network of black lines.

The town of Praya is a quiet, forlorn, little place: many years since a large city was here overwhelmed by an earthquake. It is asserted that the land then subsided, and a wall of a convent now bathed by the sea, is shown as a proof of it: the fact is probable, but the supposed proof not conclusive. I returned home by another road, which first led along the northern shore, and then crossed the central part of the island. This north-eastern extremity is particularly well cultivated, and produces a large quantity of fine wheat. The square open fields, and small villages with whitewashed churches, gave to the view, as seen from the heights, an aspect resembling the less picturesque parts of central England. We soon reached the region of clouds, which during our whole visit hung very low and concealed the tops of the mountains. For a couple of hours we crossed this central and elevated part, which is not inhabited and has a desolate appearance. When we descended from the clouds to the city, I heard the good news that astronomical observations had been obtained, and that we should go to sea the same evening.

On the 19th of August we finally left the shores of Brazil. I thank God, I shall never again visit a slave-country. To this day, if I hear a distant scream, it recalls with painful vividness my feelings, when passing a house near Pernambuco, I heard the most pitiable moans, and could not but suspect that some poor slave was being tortured, yet knew that I was as powerless as a child even to remonstrate. I suspected that these moans were from a tortured slave, for I was told that this was the case in another instance. Near Rio de Janeiro I lived opposite to an old lady, who kept screws to crush the fingers of her female slaves. I have staid in a house where a young household mulatto, daily and hourly, was reviled, beaten, and persecuted enough to break the spirit of the lowest animal. I have seen a little boy, six or seven years old, struck thrice with a horse-whip (before I could interfere) on his naked head, for having handed me a glass of water not quite clean; I saw his father tremble at a mere glance from his master's eye. These latter cruelties were witnessed by me in a Spanish colony, in which it has always been said, that slaves are better treated than by the Portuguese, English, or other European nations. I have seen at Rio de Janeiro a powerful negro afraid to ward off a blow directed, as he thought, at his face. I was present when a kind-hearted man was on the point of separating forever the men, women, and little children of a large number of families who had long lived together. I will not even allude to the many heart-sickening atrocities which I authentically heard of;—nor would I have mentioned the above revolting details, had I not met with several people, so blinded by the constitutional gaiety of the negro as to speak of slavery as a tolerable evil. Such people have generally visited at the houses of the upper classes, where the domestic slaves are usually well treated, and they have not, like myself, lived amongst the lower classes. Such inquirers will ask slaves about their condition; they forget that the slave must indeed be dull, who does not calculate on the chance of his answer reaching his master's ears.

It is argued that self-interest will prevent excessive cruelty; as if self-interest protected our domestic animals, which are far less likely than degraded slaves, to stir up the rage of their savage masters. It is an argument long since protested against with noble feeling, and strikingly exemplified, by the ever-illustrious Humboldt. It is often attempted to palliate slavery by comparing the state of slaves with our poorer countrymen: if the misery of our poor be caused not by the laws of nature, but by our institutions, great is our sin; but how this bears on slavery, I cannot see; as well might the use of the thumb-screw be defended in one land, by showing that men in another land suffered from some dreadful disease. Those who look tenderly at the slave owner, and with a cold heart at the slave, never seem to put themselves into the position of the latter; what a cheerless prospect, with not even a hope of change! picture to yourself the chance, ever hanging over you, of your wife and your little children—those objects which nature urges even the slave to call his own—being torn from you and sold like beasts to the first bidder! And these deeds are done and palliated by men, who profess to love their neighbours as themselves, who believe in God, and pray that his Will be done on earth! It makes one's blood boil, yet heart tremble, to think that we Englishmen and our American descendants, with their boastful cry of liberty, have been and are so guilty: but it is a consolation to reflect, that we at least have made a greater sacrifice, than ever made by any nation, to expiate our sin.

(Continue reading below.)

On the 25th we called at the island of St. Michael's for letters, and then steered a direct course for England. On October 2d the Beagle anchored at Falmouth, where I left her, having lived on board the little vessel very nearly five years.

On the last day of August we anchored for the second time at Porto Praya in the Cape de Verd archipelago; thence we proceeded to the Azores, where we staid six days. On the 2nd of October we made the shores of England; and at Falmouth I left the Beagle, having lived on board the good little vessel nearly five years.

(Continue reading below.)

As this volume may possibly fall into the hands of some one about to undertake a similar expedition, I will offer a few pieces of advice, some of which I observed with much advantage, but others, to my cost, neglected. Let the collector's motto be, “Trust nothing to the memory;” for the memory becomes a fickle guardian when one interesting object is succeeded by another still more interesting. Keep a list with the date of the ships by which every box of specimens, or even a letter, is transmitted to England; let the receiver do the same: it will afterwards save much anxiety. Put a number on every specimen, and every fragment of a specimen; and during the very same minute let it be entered in the catalogue, so that if hereafter its locality be doubted, the collector may say in good truth, “Every specimen of mine was ticketed on the spot.” Any thing which is folded up in paper, or put into a separate box, ought to have a number on the outside (with the exception perhaps of geological specimens), but more especially a duplicate number on the inside attached to the specimen itself. A series of small numbers should be printed from 0 to 5000; a stop must be added to those numbers which can be read upside down (as 699. or 86.). It is likewise convenient to have the different thousands printed on differently coloured paper, so that when unpacking, a single glance tells the approximate number.

For specimens in spirits of wine, I found the following plan answered admirably: Get a set of steel dies from 0 to 9, a small punch, and some sheets of trebly-thick tinfoil. The numbers may at any time be stamped in a line, with a hole punched in front of each, and then cut off with a pair of scissors as wanted. These tickets cost little trouble in making, and do not corrode. Each specimen in spirits should be loosely folded up in very open gauze, or some such stuff; the string which ties up the corners may likewise secure the number. Use nothing but glass jars; but these are difficult to be obtained of any size out of Europe. Jars of earthenware, and wooden casks, either leak, or allow of evaporation; and when such are used, it is not easy to know whether the specimens are too much crowded (a very common fault), or in what state the spirit is in, which through glass can be judged of by its colour. Bear in mind, that in nine out of ten specimens which are spoiled, it is owing to the spirit being too weak. The jars should be closed with a bung covered by bladder, twice by common tinfoil, and by bladder again; let the bladder soak till half putrid. I found this plan quite worth the trouble it cost.

Few, excepting those who have travelled in ships, know the extreme inconvenience of want of room; and on this much depends: but if it be practicable, keep three or four sets of bottles open at the same time, so that one may serve for crustacea, another for animals for dissection, another for minute specimens, another for fish, always putting the latter into the strongest spirit. Any how it is absolutely necessary to keep a couple of receiving bottles in which every thing can at first be put, and afterwards transferred to the permanent bottles with fresh spirits. Without assistance from government, and plenty of room, it is most disheartening work to attempt to bring home many specimens in spirits, although without doubt in such a state they are very far the most valuable. I should recommend any one circumstanced as I was to preserve the skins only of large fish and reptiles. But with room and means at command, let the collector place no limit to the number of his glass jars.

With respect to the catalogues it is inconvenient to have many; but there must at least be two, one for the tin labels or specimens in spirits, and another for the paper numbers, which should be applied indiscriminately to every kind of specimen. If the observer has any particular branch to which he devotes much attention, a third catalogue exclusively for such specimens is desirable: I kept a third for geological specimens and fossils. In a like manner notes should be as simple as possible: I kept one set for geology, and another for zoological and all other observations. It is well to endeavour to write upon separate pages remarks on different specimens; for much copying will thus be saved. My journal was likewise kept distinct from the other subjects. I found an arrangement carried thus far very useful: a traveller by land would, I suppose, be obliged to adopt a still more simple plan.

Use arsenical soap* for all skins, but do not neglect to brush the legs and beak with a solution of corrosive sublimate. Likewise slightly brush over all dried plants with the solution. For collecting insects use a plain strong sweeping-net, and pack the specimens of all orders, excepting lepidoptera, between layers of rag in pill-boxes, placing at the bottom a bit of camphor; this costs scarcely any trouble, and the insects, especially thousands of unknown minute ones, arrive in an excellent state. Take a good stock of chip pill-boxes—a simple plain strong microscope, such as that long ago described by Ellis—a good stock of lace-needles, with glass tubes and sealingwax, for the purpose of making dissecting instruments. I need not mention small collecting bottles covered with leather, tin boxes, dissecting scissors, blowpipe case, compasses, mountain barometer, &c. I should recommend a sort of work-box fitted up to hold watch-glasses, glass micrometers, pins, string, printed numbers, &c.; and I found a small cabinet with drawers, some lined with cork, and others with cross partitions, most useful as a temporary storehouse.

* Seeds must not be sent home in the same case with skins prepared with poison, camphor, or essential oils; scarcely any of mine germinated, and Professor Henslow thinks they were thus killed.

Pack up for shipment every specimen of every kind in boxes lined with tinned plates, and soldered together : if the case be large the specimens should further be packed into light pasteboard or other boxes, for by long pressure even skins of quadrupeds are injured. On no account whatever put bottles with spirits of wine, though ever so well packed, in the same case with other specimens, for if one should break every thing near it will be spoiled, as I found to my cost in one instance.

When limited either in time, funds, or space, let not the collector crowd too many specimens either into one bottle, or into one case. For he should constantly bear in mind as his second motto, that “It is better to send home a few things well preserved, than a multitude in a bad condition.” As long as due steps are taken that the harvest may not be spoiled, let him not be disheartened, because he may for a long time be labouring by himself; let him work hard from morning to night, for every day and every hour is precious in a foreign clime; and then most assuredly his own satisfaction will one day well repay him.


Our Voyage having come to an end, I will take a short retrospect of the advantages and disadvantages, the pains and pleasures, of our {five years' wandering}/{circumnavigation of the world}. If a person {should ask}/{asked} my advice, before undertaking a long voyage, my answer would depend upon his possessing a decided taste for some branch of knowledge, which could by such/this means be improved/advanced. No doubt it is a high satisfaction to behold various countries and the many races of mankind, but the pleasures gained at the time do not counterbalance the evils. It is necessary to look forward to a harvest, however distant that may be, when some fruit will be reaped, some good effected.

Many of the losses which must be experienced are obvious; such as that of the society of {all old friends}/{every old friend}, and of the sight of those places with which every dearest remembrance is so intimately connected. These losses, however, are at the time partly relieved by the exhaustless delight of anticipating the long wished-for day of return. If, as poets say, life is a dream, I am sure in a voyage these are the visions which best serve to pass away the long night. Other losses, although not at first felt, tell heavily after a period: these are the want of room, of seclusion, of rest; the jading feeling of constant hurry; the privation of small luxuries, the {comforts of civilization and}/{loss of} domestic society and{, lastly,}/~ even of music and the other pleasures of imagination. When such trifles are mentioned, it is evident that the real grievances, excepting from accidents, of a sea-life are at an end. The short space of sixty years has made an astonishing difference in the facility of distant navigation. Even in the time of Cook, a man who left his comfortable/~ fireside for such expeditions underwent severe privations. A yacht now, with every luxury of life, can circumnavigate the globe. Besides the vast improvements in ships and naval resources, the whole western shores of America are thrown open, and Australia has become the metropolis/capital of a rising continent. How different are the circumstances to a man shipwrecked at the present day in the Pacific, to what they were in the time of Cook! Since his voyage a hemisphere has been added to the civilized world.

If a person suffer much from sea-sickness, let him weigh it heavily in the balance. I speak from experience: it is no trifling evil, cured in a week. If, on the other hand, he takes/take pleasure in naval tactics, he will assuredly have full scope for his taste. But it must be borne in mind, how large a proportion of the time, during a long voyage, is spent on the water, as compared with the days in harbour. And what are the boasted glories of the illimitable ocean? A tedious waste, a desert of water, as the Arabian calls it. No doubt there are some delightful scenes. A moonlight night, with the clear heavens and the dark glittering sea, and the white sails filled by the soft air of a gently blowing trade-wind, a dead calm, with the heaving surface polished like a mirror, and all still except the occasional flapping of the canvas. It is well once to behold a squall with its rising arch and coming fury, or the heavy gale of wind and mountainous waves. I confess, however, my imagination had painted something more grand, more terrific in the full-grown storm. It is an incomparably finer spectacle when beheld on shore, where the waving trees, the wild flight of the birds, the dark shadows and bright lights, the rushing of the torrents all proclaim the strife of the unloosed elements. At sea the albatross and little petrel fly as if the storm were their proper sphere, the water rises and sinks as if fulfilling its usual task, the ship alone and its inhabitants seem the objects of wrath. On a forlorn and weather-beaten coast, the scene is indeed different, but the feelings partake more of horror than of wild delight.

Let us now look at the brighter side of the past time. The pleasure derived from beholding the scenery and the general aspect of the various countries we have visited, has decidedly been the most constant and highest source of enjoyment. It is probable that the picturesque beauty of many parts of Europe exceeds anything which we beheld. But there is a growing pleasure in comparing the character of the scenery in different countries, which to a certain degree is distinct from merely admiring its beauty. It depends chiefly on an acquaintance with the individual parts of each view. I am strongly induced to believe that as in music, the person who understands every note will, if he also possesses a proper taste, more thoroughly enjoy the whole, so he who examines each part of a fine view, may also thoroughly comprehend the full and combined effect. Hence, a traveller should be a botanist, for in all views plants form the chief embellishment. Group masses of naked rock, even in the wildest forms, and they may for a time afford a sublime spectacle, but they will soon grow monotonous. Paint them with bright and varied colours, as in Northern Chile, they will become fantastic; clothe them with vegetation, they must form a decent, if not a beautiful picture.

When I say that the scenery of parts of Europe is probably superior to anything which we beheld, I except, as a class by itself, that of the intertropical zones. The two classes cannot be compared together; but I have already often enlarged on the grandeur of those regions. As the force of impressions generally depends on preconceived ideas, I may add, that mine were taken from the vivid descriptions in the Personal Narrative of Humboldt, which far exceed in merit anything else which I have read. Yet with these high-wrought ideas, my feelings were far from partaking of a tinge of disappointment on my first and final landing on the shores of Brazil.

Among the scenes which are deeply impressed on my mind, none exceed in sublimity the primeval forests undefaced by the hand of man; whether those of Brazil, where the powers of Life are predominant, or those of Tierra del Fuego, where Death and decay prevail. Both are temples filled with the varied productions of the God of Nature:—no one can stand in these solitudes unmoved, and not feel that there is more in man than the mere breath of his body. In calling up images of the past, I find that the plains of Patagonia frequently cross before my eyes; yet these plains are pronounced by all wretched and useless. They can be described only by negative characters; without habitations, without water, without trees, without mountains, they support merely a few dwarf plants. Why, then, and the case is not peculiar to myself, have these arid wastes taken so firm a hold on my memory? Why have not the still more level, the greener and more fertile Pampas, which are serviceable to mankind, produced an equal impression? I can scarcely analyze these feelings: but it must be partly owing to the free scope given to the imagination. The plains of Patagonia are boundless, for they are scarcely passable, and hence unknown: they bear the stamp of having lasted, as they are now, for ages, and there appears no limit to their duration through future time. If, as the ancients supposed, the flat earth was surrounded by an impassable breadth of water, or by deserts heated to an intolerable excess, who would not look at these last boundaries to man's knowledge with deep but ill-defined sensations?

Lastly, of natural scenery, the views from lofty mountains, through certainly in one sense not beautiful, are very memorable. When looking down from the highest crest of the Cordillera, the mind, undisturbed by minute details, was filled with the stupendous dimensions of the surrounding masses.

Of individual objects, perhaps nothing is more certain to create astonishment than the first sight in his native haunt of a barbarian—of man in his lowest and most savage state. One's mind hurries back over past centuries, and then asks, could our progenitors have been men like these?—men, whose very signs and expressions are less intelligible to us than those of the domesticated animals; men, who do not possess the instinct of those animals, nor yet appear to boast of human reason, or at least of arts consequent on that reason. I do not believe it is possible to describe or paint the difference between savage and civilized man. It is the difference between a wild and tame animal: and part of the interest in beholding a savage, is the same which would lead every one to desire to see the lion in his desert, the tiger tearing his prey in the jungle,

the rhinoceros on the wide plain, or the hippopotamus wallowing in the mud of some African river.

or the rhinoceros wandering over the wild plains of Africa.

Among the other most remarkable spectacles which we have beheld, may be ranked the stars of the southern hemisphere—the water-spout—the glacier leading its blue stream of ice in a bold precipice overhanging the sea—a lagoon island raised by the coral-forming polypi—an active volcano—and the overwhelming effects of a violent earthquake.

Among the other most remarkable spectacles which we have beheld, may be ranked, the Southern Cross, the cloud of Magellan, and the other constellations of the southern hemisphere—the water-spout—the glacier leading its blue stream of ice, overhanging the sea in a bold precipice—a lagoon-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 connexion 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 {most beautiful and}/~ laboured 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 {a kind of}/{an} extreme delight, which no scenes of civilization could have created. I do not doubt that every traveller must remember the glowing sense of happiness ~/which he experienced, {from the simple consciousness of breathing}/{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{, perhaps,}/~ 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 true/proper dimensions: continents are not looked at in the light of islands, or those/~ 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 some/~ weeks along small portions of their shores, that one is thoroughly convinced {how large a portion of}/{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 most/~ excellent judgment none will dispute, could foresee no prospect of such/a change. Yet these changes have now been effected by the philanthropic spirit of the British nation.

In the same quarter of the globe Australia is rising, or indeed may be said to have risen, into a grand centre of civilization, which, at some not very remote period, will rule as empress over the southern hemisphere. It is impossible for an Englishman to behold these distant colonies, without a high pride and satisfaction. To hoist the British flag, seems to draw with it as a certain consequence, wealth, prosperity, and civilization.

In conclusion, it appears to me that nothing can be more improving to a young naturalist, than a journey in distant countries. It both sharpens, and partly allays that want and craving, which, as Sir J. Herschel remarks,*/~ a man experiences although every corporeal sense is/be fully satisfied. The excitement from the novelty of objects, and the chance of success, stimulate him to increased activity. Moreover, as a number of isolated facts soon become uninteresting, the habit of comparison leads to generalization. On the other hand, as the traveller stays but a short time in each place, his descriptions must generally consist of mere sketches, instead of detailed observations. Hence arises, as I have found to my cost, a constant tendency to fill up the wide gaps of knowledge, by inaccurate and superficial hypotheses.

* Discourse on the Study of Natural Philosophy.


But I have too deeply enjoyed the voyage, not to recommend any naturalist, although he must not expect to be so fortunate in his companions as I have been, to take all chances, and to start, on travels by land if possible, if otherwise, on a long voyage. He may feel assured, he will meet with no difficulties or dangers, excepting in rare cases, nearly so bad as he beforehand anticipated/anticipates. In a moral point of view, the effect ought to be, to teach him good-humoured patience, freedom from selfishness, the habit of acting for himself, and of making the best of every {thing, or in other words contentment}/{occurrence}. In short, he should/{ought to} partake of the characteristic qualities of most sailors. Travelling ought also to teach him distrust; but at the same time he will discover, how many truly {good-natureed}/{kind-hearted} people there are, with whom he never before had, or ever again will have any further communication, who yet are ready to offer him the most disinterested assistance.


NOTE.—The snake, described at page 96, with the curious habit of vibrating its tail, is a new species of Trigonocephalus, which M. Bibron proposes to call T. crepitans.