1834.] A NAKED FUEGIAN. 22/ 



they do know little enough), if you are not a married man, 

 and may be nursing, as Miss Austen says, little olive branches, 

 little pledges of mutual affection. Eheu ! Eheu ! this puts 

 me in mind of former visions of glimpses into futurity, where 

 I fancied I saw retirement, green cottages, and white petti- 

 coats. What will become of me hereafter I know not ; I feel 

 like a ruined man, who does not see or care how to extricate 

 himself. That this voyage must come to a conclusion my 

 reason tells me, but otherwise I see no end to it. It is im- 

 possible not bitterly to regret the friends and other sources of 

 pleasure one leaves behind in England ; in place of it there 

 is much solid enjoyment, some present, but more in anticipa- 

 tion, when the ideas gained during the voyage can be com- 

 pared to fresh ones. I find in Geology a never-failing interest, 

 as it has been remarked, it creates the same grand ideas re- 

 specting this world which Astronomy does for the universe. 

 We have seen much fine scenery ; that of the Tropics in its 

 glory and luxuriance exceeds even the language of Humboldt 

 to describe. A Persian writer could alone do justice to it, 

 and if he succeeded he would in England be called the * Grand- 

 father of all liars.' " 



But I have seen nothing which more completely aston- 

 ished me than the fir.3t sight of a savage. It was a naked 

 Fuegian, his long hair blowing about, his face besmeared 

 with paint. There is in their countenances an expression 

 which I believe, to those who have not seen it, must be in- 

 conceivably wild. Standing on a rock he uttered tones and 

 made gesticulations, than which the cries of domestic animals 

 are far more intelligible. 



When I return to England, you must take me in hand 

 with respect to the fine arts. I yet recollect there was a 

 man called Raffaelle Sanctus. How delightful it will be 

 once again to see, in the Fitzwilliam, Titian's Venus. How 

 much more than delightful to go to some good concert or 

 fine opera. These recollections will not do. I shall not be 

 able to-morrow to pick out the entrails of some small animal 

 with half my usual gusto. Pray tell me some news about 



