1822.] 
plague, the dysentery, and the diseases 
of children. The most destructive of 
all evils is the plague, which in 1820 
and 1821 committed great ravages in 
Alexandria and Cairo, and even on- 
board the European ships. It is the 
more dreadful, as both its causes and 
the remedies against it are unknown. 
That it is propagated by contact is 
certain. 
I could enumerate many instances of 
the unhappy consequences of the no- 
tion of predestination. An Arab at 
Masr attempted to save a fowl that 
had fallen into the Nile ; he swam too 
far from the bank, and the current 
carried him away. If a rope or an 
oar had been thrown to him, he might 
easily have been saved ;.but it was not 
done, ‘The numerous Mohamedans 
on the bank, and in the vessels, assured 
me that he had been predestined from 
his birth to dic in this manner. At 
Alexandria the plague is believed to 
be brought by the pilgrims from Bar- 
bary, and there to spread to Raschid 
and Masr. It commonly comes to 
Alexandria in December, and conti- 
nues, but generally with interruption, 
till July. At Masr it usually does not 
begin till March. This periodical 
appearance seems to indicate the in- 
fluence of the Chamise, which blows 
at this time, 
—<=_ 
For the Monthly Magazine. 
ACCOUNT of the ISLAND of ST. PAUL, in 
the SOUTHERN INDIAN OCEAN: in a 
LETTER from an OFFICER of the 
ROYAL NAVY. 
OU will scarcely be more asto- 
nished at finding us in this re- 
mote and unfrequented part of the 
world than we are ourselves. Little 
more than three weeks ago we were 
“tripping it on the light fantastic toe” 
in the gay regions of Port Louis (Mau- 
ritius), at a grand ball given by some 
of the public officers; when,—hey— 
presto—be gone !—like the changes in 
a harlequinade, we find ourselves, 
scarcely recollecting how, nearly three 
thousand miles off, in the very birth- 
place of storms and foul weather. 
Sailors indeed are, according to the 
song, ‘‘bound for all weathers ;” but 
that which we have experienced here 
exceeds all I remember in any other 
region where they had the least pre- 
tension to summer. During the last 
fortnight we have not had a single 
tolerable day. Gale succeeds gale, 
as regularly as noon does the morning ; 
Account of the Island of St. Paul. 
291 
so that we are half inclined to deem 
it what seamen call the fag end of the 
world. Yet this is the summer of St. 
Paul! The rain, also, is frequent and 
heavy, and the cold not inconsiderable, 
—at least we feel it pretty sharply after 
the tropical suns of India. 
The repulsive aspect of the island, 
which became visible for the first time 
towards the evening, gave us indeed 
little to expect. It rises abruptly 
from the sea, a conspicuous cone- 
shaped mountain, apparently solid 
when viewed from the western. side ; 
but, on coming round to the eastern, 
presenting an immense cavity, scoop- 
ed out of the highest part of the island, 
and the sides toward the sea broken 
down to the water’s edge, thus afford- 
ing a complete view of the interior. 
I know not that I can give you a bet- 
ter idea of it than by supposing, upon 
an enormous. scale, the shape of a 
common basin, with about a fourth 
part of the circumference of the side 
broken down to the base. It is evi- 
dently the crater of an extinct voleano; 
but whether shot up from the bed of 
the ocean, or the neighbouring level 
land by which it may have been encir- 
cled being submerged, or how long it 
has ceased to act, must remain uncer- 
tain. It is so different from any thing 
like the coral islands of the Pacific or 
Indian oceans, and so high withal, 
that nothing of this kind can be sup- 
posed ; while its distance from any of 
the continentsleavesno probability of its 
having ever belonged to either. The 
shores are steep and rocky; a furious 
surf continually washes the base; and 
off the crater, at the distance of a 
mile and a half, there is anchorage in — 
fine weather, when the wind blows from 
the westward. 
In this spot we dropped anchor for 
a few hours, when the elements seem- 
ed more settled than they had been for 
some time, taking for a guide a huge 
sugar-loaf rock, situated to the left of 
the entranee, This opening, I should 
have said, is formed by the vent of the 
erater extending down to the level of 
the sea, which thence finds admission, 
over a ledge of rocks, to an extensive 
basin within. To reconnoitre this cu- 
rious place, a lieutenant was dispatch- 
ed in one of the cutters. The boat 
got over the bar without difficulty, 
which a century ago, it appears, was 
a work of trouble ; the continual action 
of the sea having deepened the access, 
by wearing down the rocks. The 
breadth 
