606 



CONCLUSION. ' Oct. 1836. 



human reason^ or at least of arts consequent on that reason. 

 I do not believe it is possible to describe or paint the differ- 

 ence 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. 



Among the other most remarkable spectacles which we 

 have beheld^ may be ranked the stars of the southern hemi- 

 sphere — 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 vol- 

 cano — and the overwhelming effects of a violent earthquake. 

 The three latter phenomena^ perhaps^ possess for me a 

 peculiar interest^ from their intimate connexion with the 

 geological structure of the world. The earthquake must 

 however^ be to every one a most impressive event: the 

 earthy 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 extreme delight, which no scenes of civilization could have 

 created. I do not doubt that every traveller must remember 

 the glowing sense of happiness he experienced, from the 

 simple consciousness of breathing in a foreign clime, where 

 the civilized man has seldom or never trod. 



There are several other sources of enjoyment in a long 

 voyage, which are, perhaps, of a more reasonable nature. 



