a proportion. As the Atlantic fell under our view, two faint circles on each side of the equator, were to be perceived by the naked eye. They were less bright than the rest of the ocean. The Brahmin suggested that they might be currents; which brought to my memory Dr. Franklin's conjecture on the subject, now completely verified by this circular line of vapour, as it had been previously rendered probable by the floating substances, which had been occasionally picked up, at great distances from the places where they had been thrown into the ocean. The circle was whiter and more distinct, where the Gulf Stream runs parallel to the American coast, and gradually grew fainter as it passed along the Banks of Newfoundland, to the coast of Europe, where, taking a southerly direction, the line of the circle was barely discernible. A similar circle of vapour, though less defined and complete, was perceived in the South Atlantic Ocean.
When the coast of my own beloved country first presented itself to my view, I experienced the liveliest emotions; and I felt so anxious to see my children and friends, that I would gladly have given up all the promised pleasures of our expedition. I even ventured to hint my feelings to the Brahmin; but he, gently rebuking my impatience, said—
"If to return home had been your only object, and not to see what not one of your nation or race has ever yet seen, you ought to have so informed me, that we might have arranged matters accordingly. I do not wish you to return to your country, until you will be enabled to make yourself welcome and useful there, by what you may see in the lunar world. Take courage, then, my friend; you have passed the worst; and, as the proverb says, do not, when you have swallowed the ox, now choke at the tail. Besides, although we made all possible haste in descending, we should, ere we reached the surface, find ourselves to the west of your continent, and be compelled then to choose between some part of Asia or the Pacific Ocean."
"Let us then proceed," said I, mortified at the imputation on my courage, and influenced yet more, perhaps, by the last argument. The Brahmin then tried to soothe my disappointment, by his remarks on my native land.
"I have a great curiosity," said he, "to see a country where a man, by his labour, can earn as much in a month as will procure him bread, and meat too, for the whole year; in a week, as will pay his dues to the government; and in one or two days, as will buy him an acre of good land: where every man preaches whatever religion he pleases; where the priests of the different sects never fight, and seldom quarrel; and, stranger than all, where the authority of government derives no aid from an army, and that of the priests no support from the law."
I told him, when he should see these things in operation with his own eyes, as I trusted he would, if it pleased heaven to favour our undertakings, they would appear less strange. I reminded him of the peculiar circumstances under which our countrymen had commenced their career.
"In all other countries," said I, "civilization and population have gone hand in hand; and the necessity of an increasing subsistence for increasing numbers, has been the parent of useful arts and of social improvement. In every successive stage of their advancement, such countries have equally felt the evils occasioned by a scanty and precarious subsistence. In America, however, the people are in the full enjoyment of all the arts of civilization, while they are unrestricted in their means of subsistence, and consequently in their power of multiplication. From this singular state of things, two consequences result. One is, that the progress of the nation in wealth, power, and greatness, is more rapid than the world has ever before witnessed. Another is, that our people, being less cramped and fettered by their necessities, and feeling, of course, less of those moral evils which poverty and discomfort engender, their character, moral and intellectual, will be developed and matured with greater celerity, and, I incline to think, carried to a higher point of excellence than has ever yet been attained. I anticipate for them the eloquence and art of Athens—the courage and love of country of Sparta—the constancy and military prowess of the Romans—the science and literature of England and France—the industry of the Dutch—the temperance and obedience to the laws of the Swiss. In fifty years, their numbers will amount to forty millions; in a century, to one hundred and sixty millions; in two centuries, (allowing for a decreasing rate of multiplication,) to three or four hundred millions. Nor does it seem impossible that, from the structure of their government, they may continue united for a few great national purposes, while each State may make the laws that are suited to its peculiar habits, character, and circumstances. In another half century, they will extend the Christian religion and the English language to the Pacific Ocean.
"To the south of them, on the same continent, other great nations will arise, who, if they were to be equally united, might contend in terrible conflicts for the mastery of this great continent, and even of the world. But when they shall be completely liberated from the yoke of Spanish dominion, and have for some time enjoyed that full possession of their faculties and energies which liberty only can give, they will probably split into distinct States. United, at first, by the sympathy of men struggling in the same cause, and by similarity of manners and religion, they will, after a while, do as men always have done, quarrel and fight; and these wars will check their social improvement, and mar their political hopes. Whether they will successively fall under the dominion of one able and fortunate leader, or, like the motley sovereignties of Europe, preserve their integrity by their mutual jealousy, time only can show."
"Your reasoning about the natives of Spanish America appears very probable," said the Brahmin; "but is it not equally applicable to your own country ?"
I reminded him of the peculiar advantages of our government. He shook his head.
"No, Atterley," said he, "do not deceive yourself. The duration of every species of polity is uncertain; the works of nature alone are permanent. The motions of the heavenly bodies are the same as they were thousands of years ago. But not so with the works of man. He is the identical animal that he ever was. His political institutions, however cunningly devised, have always been yet more perishable than his structures of stone and marble. This is according to all past history: and do not, therefore, count upon an exception in your favour, that would be little short of the miraculous. But," he good-naturedly added, "such a miracle may take place in your system; and, although I do not expect it, I sincerely wish it."
We were now able to see one half of the broad expanse of the Pacific, which glistened with the brightness of quicksilver or polished steel.
"Cast your eyes to the north," said he, "and see where your continent and mine approach so near as almost to touch. Both these coasts are at this time thinly inhabited by a rude and miserable people, whose whole time is spent in struggling against the rigours of their dreary climate, and the scantiness of its productions. Yet, perhaps the Indians and the Kamtschadales will be gradually moulded into a hardy, civilized people: and here may be the scene of many a fierce conflict between your people and the Russians, whose numbers, now four times as great as yours, increase almost as rapidly."
He then amused me with accounts of the manners and mode of life of the Hyperborean race, with whom he had once passed a summer. Glancing my eye then to the south,—"See," said I, "while the Kamtschadale is providing his supply of furs and of fish, for the long winter which is already knocking at the door of his hut, the gay and voluptuous native of the Sandwich and other islands between the tropics. How striking the contrast! The one passes his life in ease, abundance, and enjoyment; the other in toil, privation, and care. No inclemency of the seasons inflicts present suffering on these happy islanders, or brings apprehensions for the future. Nature presents them with her most delicious fruits spontaneously and abundantly; and she has implanted in their breast a lively relish for the favours she so lavishly bestows upon them."
The Brahmin, after musing a while, replied: "The difference is far less than you imagine. Perhaps, on balancing their respective pleasures and pains, the superior gain of the islander will be reduced to nothing: for, as to the simplest source of gratification, that of palatable food, if nature produces it more liberally in the islands, she also produces there more mouths to consume it. The richest Kamtschadale may, indeed, oftener go without a dinner than the richest
