I would fain, however, avoid narrowing the principle to any walk of life, though its operation may be more obvious afloat than on shore. And any young person, just setting out in the world, whatever his profession be, will do well to recollect, that his own eventual success, as well as happiness in the mean time, will mainly depend upon his resolute determination to acquire the habit of being pleased with what he meets, rather than of being sharp-sighted in the discovery of what is disagreeable. I may add, that there is little or no danger of the habit recommended degenerating into duplicity; for, in order to its being either useful in the long run, or even agreeable at the moment, its practice, like every thing else that is good, must be guided throughout by sterling principle. CHAPTER VII. GEOLOGY—NAUTICAL SQUABBLES. About this period I began to dabble a little in geology, for which science I had acquired a taste by inheritance, and, in some degree, from companionship with more than one of the Scottish school, who, at the beginning of this century, were considered more than half-cracked, merely for supporting the igneous theory of Dr. Hutton, which, with certain limitations and extensions, and after thirty years of controversy, experiment, and observation, appears to be now pretty generally adopted. Sailors, indeed, have excellent opportunities of making geological observations, for they have the advantage of seeing Nature, as it were, with her face washed, more frequently than most other observers; and can seldom visit any coast, new or old, without having it in their power to bring off something interesting to inquirers in this branch of knowledge. That is, supposing they have eyes to see, and capacity to describe, what meets their observation. Some people cannot go beyond a single fact or two actually lying under their very noses; and you might as well expect them to fly as to combine these particulars, or to apply them to the purposes of science at large. Others, again, from the same want of accurate comprehension, or from sheer mental indolence, jump at once from the most trifling local circumstances to the broadest and most unwarranted generalisations. It would be difficult, if not quite impossible, by dint of any number of precepts, to drive geology, or any other kind of instruction, into the noddles of some folks; so that it will often seem an even chance with a blockhead, whether, when he is obliged to think, he will generalise too much or too little. I remember, for example, once lying at anchor, for some weeks, in the harbour of Vigo, on the west coast of Spain, during which time, for a piece of fun, the first lieutenant desired one of the youngsters on board to write a letter to his friends at home. “What in the world, sir, am I to say?” asked the noodle of a fellow, after pondering over the subject for a long time. “Say?—Why, describe the country, and the manners of the people—tell how they behaved to you.”