which relates to the history of our species, to the various forms
of government, to monuments of art, to places full of great
remembrances, affect us far more than descriptions of those vast
solitudes which seem destined only for the development of vegetable
life, and to be the domain of wild animals. The savages of America,
who have been the objects of so many systematic reveries, and on
whom M. Volney has lately published some accurate and intelligent
observations, inspire less interest since celebrated navigators
have made known to us the inhabitants of the South Sea islands, in
whose character we find a striking mixture of perversity and
meekness. The state of half-civilization existing among those
islanders gives a peculiar charm to the description of their
manners. A king, followed by a numerous suite, presents the fruits
of his orchard; or a funeral is performed amidst the shade of the
lofty forest. Such pictures, no doubt, have more attraction than
those which pourtray the solemn gravity of the inhabitant of the
banks of the Missouri or the Maranon.

America offers an ample field for the labours of the naturalist. On
no other part of the globe is he called upon more powerfully by
nature to raise himself to general ideas on the cause of phenomena
and their mutual connection. To say nothing of that luxuriance of
vegetation, that eternal spring of organic life, those climates
varying by stages as we climb the flanks of the Cordilleras, and
those majestic rivers which a celebrated writer (M. Chateaubriand.)
has described with such graceful accuracy, the resources which the
New World affords for the study of geology and natural philosophy
in general have been long since acknowledged. Happy the traveller
who may cherish the hope that he has availed himself of the
advantages of his position, and that he has added some new facts to