444 
NEW ZEALAND 
CHAP. 
December igth .—In the evening we saw in the distance 
New Zealand. We may now consider that we have nearly 
crossed the Pacific. It is necessary to sail over this great 
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 the water of this vast expanse. 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 home¬ 
wards ; 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 lasting for some days 
has lately given us full leisure to measure the future stages 
in our long homeward voyage, and to wish most earnestly for its 
termination. 
December 2 1st .—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 south of Concepcion in Chile. In several parts 
of the bay little villages of square tidy-looking houses are 
scattered close down to the water’s edge. 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, 
