of the most dreadful scourge of life." In this last paragraph, there is reason to imagine Mr F. has somewhat overstepped the modesty of both history and nature--the former, by too high commendation of the New Zealanders, who, whatever merit they may claim on other grounds, can scarcely be said, at least if facts are to be trusted, to be incapable of deceiving; and the latter, in ascribing greater influence to _love_ among these savages, than perhaps will ever be found realised in such a condition of our nature. One cannot believe, that so philosophical an enquirer should impute much efficacy as a source of happiness to the mere brute passion; and it is equally unlikely that so acute an observer should discover any thing more refined than such an appetite in the sexual intercourse among so rude a tribe. Probably then his language is fully more poetic than becomes the sober narrator. This, indeed, is nowise uncommon with him, as the reader perhaps is already convinced. But this very circumstance, it is obvious, is to his advantage as a writer.--E. [4] "The uncomfortable season of the year, the many contrary winds, and the total want of interesting incidents, united to make this run extremely tedious to us all, and the only point we gained by it, was the certainty that no great land was situated in the South Sea about the middle latitudes."--G.F. [5] "The spirits of all our people were much exhilarated in proportion as we approached to the tropics, and our sailors diverted themselves with a variety of plays every evening. The genial mildness of the air was so welcome to us, after a long absence from it, that we could not help preferring the warm climates as the best adapted for the abode of mankind."--G.F.