"He first deceased.

She, for a little, tried
To do without him, liked it not, and died.”

In one of his hymns he has this striking image,

"No hallowed oils, no gums I need,

No new-born drams of purging fire;
One rosy drop from David's seed

Was worlds of seas to quench their ire." Excellent, however, of its kind as Wotton's poetry is, it is not equal to that living poem, his life. He was one of those men who are not so much makers of poems as subjects about whom poems are made.

The last poet of whom we shall speak, George Herbert, was one in whom the quaintness of the time found its most fantastic embodiment. He began life as a courtier; and on the disappointment of his hopes, or on his conviction of the vanity of his ambitions, he suddenly changed his whole course of thought and life, became a clergyman, and is known to posterity only as "holy George Herbert." His poetry is the bizarre expression of a deeply religious and intensely thoughtful nature, sincere at heart, but strange, far-fetched, and serenely crotchety in utterance. Nothing can be more frigid than the conceits in which he clothes the great majority of his pious ejaculations and heavenly ecstasies. every reader feels that his fancy, quaint as it often is, is a part of the organism of his character; and that his quaintness, his uncouth metaphors and comparisons, his squalid phraseology, his holy charades and pious riddles, his inspirations crystallized into ingenuities, and his general disposition to represent the divine through the exterior guise of the odd, are vitally connected with that essential beauty and sweetness of soul which give his poems their wild flavor and fragrance. Amateurs in sanctity, and men of fine religious taste, will tell you that genuine emotion can never find an outlet in such an elaborately fantastic form;

Yet

and the proposition, according, as it does, with the rules of Blair and Kames and Whately, commands your immediate assent; but still you feel that genuine emotion is there, and, if you watch sharply, you will find that Taste, entering holy George Herbert's "Temple," after a preliminary sniff of imbecile contempt, somehow slinks away abashed after the first verse at the "Church-porch":

"Thou whose sweet youth and early hopes enhance
Thy rate and price, and mark thee for a treasure,
Hearken unto a verser, who may chance
Rhyme thee to good, and make a bait of pleasure:
A verse may find him whom a sermon flies,
And turn delight into a sacrifice."

And that fine gentleman, Taste, having relieved us of his sweetly scented presence, redolent with the "balm of a thousand flowers," let us, in closing, quote one of the profoundest utterances of the Elizabethan age, George Herbert's lines on Man :

"Man is all symmetrie,

Full of proportions, one limbe to another, And all to all the world besides :

Each part may call the farthest, brother: For head with foot hath private amitie, And both with moon and tides.

"Nothing hath got so farre,

But man hath caught and kept it, as his prey. His eyes dismount the highest starre :

He is in little all the sphere

Herbs gladly cure our flesh, because that they Finde their acquaintance there.

"The starres have us to bed;

Night draws the curtain, which the sun withdraws:
Musick and light attend our head.

All things unto our flesh are kinde
In their descent and being; to our minde
In their ascent and cause.

"More servants wait on Man Than he'll take notice of; in every path

He treads down that which doth befriend him, When sickness makes him pale and wan,

O mightie love! Man is one world, and hath Another to attend him.

"Since then, my God, thou hast
So brave a Palace built; O dwell in it,
That it may dwell with thee at last!
Till then afford us so much wit,

That as the world serves us we may serve thee,
And both thy servants be."

THE

'HE tropical Pacific is an ocean of many islands. Some of these are high volcanic peaks, others are low coral islets. Some lie crowded in archipelagoes, others in scattered groups of five or six, and a few are solitary specks of dry land or coral reef, the only objects in vast areas that break the monotony of sea and sky.

The "Union Group" is a little cluster of three low coral islands. It is about nine degrees of latitude south of the equator, and near the one hundred and seventy-second meridian. It is three or four hundred miles from any other important group, and the three islands composing it are about forty or fifty miles from each other.

At noon on the tenth day of March, 1860, we reckoned our little schooner to be eighteen miles to windward of Oatafu, the northwestern member of this group; and at three o'clock in the afternoon all on board were earnestly looking for the first signs of land ahead. We only knew of this island, that it was of coral formation. Whether it was inhabited or not we had never learned. Whether it was laid down on the chart correctly we could not tell, and this uncertainty, combined with the fear that we might be the victims of misplaced confidence in our chronometer, caused us to scan the horizon with uncommonly sharp eyes.

By four o'clock our anxiety was removed, and new interest aroused by the cry of Land, ho!" Looking in the direction indicated by the lookout aloft, to whom belonged the honor of the discovery, we discerned an uneven line of tree-tops, a kind of dotted line, a little raised above the water, and stretching along the horizon for a few miles. These dots gradually developed into a continuous line of verdure. Approaching still nearer, this line assumed a circular form, enclosing within its limits the quiet waters of a lagoon. Finally

the surf, rolling in heavily upon the reef, breaking into foam, dashing up the white coral beach, and contrasting strangely and beautifully with the green foliage above, became clearly visible.

A view from aloft revealed this still more to our admiration. The island, with its enclosed lagoon, appeared perhaps four or five miles long by two or three wide. A belt of reef and land, a hundred rods in width, encircled a lake. Without were the waters of the ocean, the long heavy swells breaking violently on the outer reef; within were the placid, delicately tinted waters of the lagoon, their surface scarcely ruffled by the wind, and dotted here and there with green islets.

An occasional break in the line of foliage marked the place where a narrow channel connected the waters of the ocean and the lake. The outer reef, which first broke the force of the ocean waves, was a level platform three or four hundred feet wide, about even with or very little below the surface of the sea, and over this the snowy breakers were chasing each other towards the shore. Then came the strip of elevated land, a gently rising, snow-white beach, crowned by a bright green belt of shrubbery and trees, the lofty plumes. of the cocoanut towering above the whole. This belt of land seemed but a few hundred feet wide, and about ten feet high. On the inner shore, a smooth beach of finest sand was gently washed by the lagoon waters. It lay on the blue ocean before us like a green wreath, with a border of sparkling spray and foam.

All this we saw while approaching and sailing along the southern shore of the island; but in the mean time the wind had become so light, and our progress had been so slow, that when we were fairly under the lee of the land the sun had reached the horizon, and darkness would speedily follow the very

short tropical twilight. It was not only too late to land, but too late to look for anchorage; for the shores of a coral island or reef usually make off so precipitously that the sounding-lead may find a hundred fathoms of water within a ship's length of the breakers, and anchorage, when it exists, must be sought cautiously. Our captain, therefore, determined to test our patience by remaining under sail all night, standing off and on until morning; and in a very few minutes our little schooner found herself close hauled on the wind, and thereupon commenced pitching savagely into the waves, as though she shared our annoyance. Aggravating as this was to those of us who were impatient for a run ashore, there was no appeal, and so we quietly made the best of it. We watched the island from the deck, until it became indistinct in the darkness. Then we went down to tea, and tried, with poor success, to compensate ourselves for a slighted dinner. Then came the inevitable rubber of whist, in which the captain played atrociously, because, as he said, he never could play well when near the land. Finally, having arranged for an earlier breakfast than usual, we laid ourselves upon our respective shelves, and slept.

It is no wonder if our dreams that night were somewhat colored by the experience of the afternoon. The sight of a coral island, especially of the lagoon form, is very impressive. The origin of the material, the formation of the reef, and notably the remarkable annular structure of the island, suggest innumerable inquiries to any thoughtful observer.

No wonder the early voyagers were struck with surprise and admiration at their first view of such an island, with all its beauty of grove and lake, and that they marvelled at beholding an immense ring of rock and dry land, standing in mid-ocean, in almost unfathomable depths, an irresistible barrier to the waves, and enclosing a quiet lake, in whose undisturbed waters vast fields of growing corals flourish.

No wonder that they were puzzled to

explain this remarkable feature, and that their speculations gave rise to some strange theories, in which their fancy pictured the "coral worms" as skilful architects, building up reefs and islands as beavers build dams, and invested the animalculæ with truly wonderful instincts, supposed to be especially shown in their choice of the annular form of island, as best adapted to withstand the force of the waves, and provide a secure retreat for themselves and their young.

But Science, in later days, has set aside these vague and erroneous impressions, and given clear ideas of the nature and functions of the coral-making zoöphytes, and of the way in which the reefs are formed. And Mr. Darwin has shown that the annular form of island, instead of being due to the instinct of the polyp, is caused by the slow subsidence of the land on which the coral growth was based. That thus, in few words, a coral reef, beginning in the shallow waters on the shore of an island, and encircling it as a fringing reef, has gradually increased upward, while the land itself has been slowly depressed; and finally, the upward growth having kept pace with the depression, the reef appears as a ring of rock upon the surface, after the last peak of the island or mountain-top has disappeared.

In time the loose fragments of broken coral and shells, ground into sand, are swept together by the waves, and form a narrow strip of land a few feet above the ocean level.

Then floating cocoanuts or seeds, wafted by the winds, or brought by drifting logs, find their mysterious way to the newly made land. Trees spring up, and soon a luxuriant growth of vegetation converts the reef into 2, habitable islet. In process of time a canoe-load of voyagers, natives of sorae other island, perhaps drifted off by irresistible currents or violent gales, or, possibly, having set out from an over-populated island in search of a new home, find their way thither, and it becomes the abode of man.

Thus coral lagoons are souvenirs of

lands that have disappeared. They lie like garlands upon the waters, simple memorials of buried islands.

Oatafu, the island before us, on the following morning, wore nothing of a sombre or funereal aspect. The bright green colors of the foliage, the dazzling brilliancy of the snow-white beach, and the sparkling foam of the breakers, were too gay and joyous in their appearance to suggest regret for a departed continent. Moreover, the novelties of the present were too interesting to allow just then a thought of the past. Early in the morning, before we were fairly up and dressed, we had been surprised, and our curiosity excited, by the discovery of two canoes putting off from the lee side of the island towards us. In each canoe were two men, paddling vigorously. As we had no information concerning inhabitants, we were naturally very much interested in knowing what manner of men these might be who were about to pay us a visit. Our unconfiding captain jumped directly to the conclusion that the islanders were a race of man-eaters, and that the four representatives, now approaching us, were a sort of prospecting committee of the commissary department; but as there were only two men in each canoe, we who, with all hands told, were thrice that number, could have no hesitation in receiving them, however carnally minded they might be.

In a few minutes the canoes came alongside. These were each about twenty or twenty-five feet long, and two feet deep and wide, sharpened at both ends, and furnished with out-riggers. Though having at first the appearance of "ug-outs," they proved to be made of many parts, ingeniously fitted, and lashed together with fastenings of native twine. They seemed quite watertight, and behaved very well under the skilful management of the natives, who were paddling with all their force to keep up with the vessel.

The occupants of the two canoes were three men and one boy. They were good-looking fellows, well made, and in excellent condition. The boy

was quite naked, and the men wore nothing of enough importance to be described, having only a narrow strip of material, something like cloth, worn above the hips, and passing between the thighs. Their faces were very friendly, and they could hardly restrain their delight at seeing strangers. Although we could hardly understand a word they said, they talked unceasingly, with great earnestness and much gesticulation, occasionally breaking out into an irrepressible song, then a loud laugh, and finally paddling away with a good-humored fury.

Through the interpretation of one of our men, a native of the Sandwich Islands, who found that he could understand a little of their dialect, we made out that they gave us a warm welcome, and invited us to visit their village, which lay on the inner shore of the lagoon, just hidden by the cocoanuttrees. We deferred doing this, however, until after breakfast, and meantime our visitors paddled off for the island, to make their report.

About nine o'clock, as we were preparing to go ashore, we discovered another and much larger canoe coming towards us under sail. In it were seated fifteen or twenty men. As they neared the vessel, one old fellow stood up, and waved in the air over his head a large roll or bundle of matting, fringed at both ends. Exactly what this meant we were left to imagine, but it was doubtless the prerogative of royalty to have it and wave it; for, as soon as they came alongside, our acquaintance of the early morning presented himself, and, pointing to him who held the bundle, gave us to understand that he was the "ariki," or king.

His Coralline Majesty was a wellmade man of about fifty years of age. His raiment was as simple as that worn by his ambassadors of the morning. As a mark of royalty, however, he wore a strip of a cocoanut leaf, two or three inches wide, split along the middle, which, being put on over his head, rested upon his shoulders. The upper part of his body, especially his breast,

was profusely tattooed. He was very dignified in manner, not talking much, nor manifesting the great curiosity which took possession of most of his followers. Withal he was a very fair specimen of royalty in the crude state. He sat down at once upon an offered deck chair, and, stretching out his legs, surveyed the assembly with a coolness which quite took me by surprise.

Presently a number of canoes came alongside, and the deck of our schooner was soon crowded by native men and boys. Evidently the arrival and presence among them of a vessel was a great and rare event, and was made the occasion of a general holiday. Many of them had got themselves up for the visit with great care, and were abundantly anointed with oil. Some wore head-dresses of shells, and necklaces of shells or beads; and one fellow put on a great many airs, parading about the deck with a brass button (probably a souvenir of some naval visit) hung round his neck by a piece of twine. But the most remarkable ornament of all, worn by a good-looking man, was nothing else than a common board nail stuck through his ear like an ear-ring. I observed that they all had their ears perforated, though more for utility than ornament, for, having no pockets, they find it convenient to carry small articles stuck through their ears. Some of the older ones had so stretched their ears by use, that the slits in them were larger than a large button-hole. The king, on being presented with two cigars, lit one of them, in imitation of his host, and stuck the other in his ear, to reserve for a future occasion.

Would not an island like this serve well as a kind of Botany Bay for pickpockets?

Among those who claimed special attention was one who said that he was a native of the Navigators' (Samoan) Islands, and that he had been sent thence to Oatafu as a native missionary. He had, in evidence of this, a single copy of the Bible in the Samoan language. During the visit, however, I saw no other copy of this or any book;

and, though I was perhaps unable to judge fairly, it did not appear to me that he had gained much, if any, influence among the people.

We proposed a visit on shore to the chief, to which he earnestly expressed his assent, and, in spite of the captain's warning, three of us prepared to land. Immediately all the canoes started off in advance, as if to advise the remainder of the inhabitants of our coming; and we soon followed them, taking the chief and two other natives with us. Reaching the shore safely under the guidance of the chief, we walked towards the village, which was on the inner or lagoon side of the belt of land. Passing for some distance through a cocoanut grove, we presently came upon a collection of about fifty houses. They were arranged with considerable regularity along an avenue running parallel with the beach. In the middle of the street was a walk paved with smooth slabs of coral beach rock. The houses were of very simple construction, consisting of upright frames five or six feet high, covered by a high-peaked roof of cocoanut thatch. The eaves of the roof extended considerably beyond the sides, and lacked but two or three feet of reaching the ground. The sides of the houses were sometimes open, and in some cases thatched. As we passed along towards the chief's house, troops of young children made their appearance; but the women, none of whom had been on board, remained within their houses, though their manner indicated that their seclusion was not altogether a voluntary act.

The king's house only differed from the more common in being larger. The floor was made of evenly spread gravel or coral pebbles, covered with mats, for which the fibre of the cocoanut husk probably furnished the material. About the house were disposed many and various articles of use or ornament. Fish-hooks of shell and wood, nets, mats, calabashes, grass-rope, fish-lines, twine and cordage, generally were abundant.

On his Majesty's "what-not" was an