Star.
London, England, 1829-11-23 00:00:00

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FOUR YEARS IN SOUTHERN AFRICA.
BY COWPER ROSE. Row. Egoorosso.
UMW COLSURS AND R. lIINTLIIT.

The author of this elegant volume tells ue—and we
believe liiiitthat he attempts only to describe what fell
under his own immediate observation. His object in his
rambles being to seek amusement, he writes but with
the view of amusing others. This, he has most suc-
cessfully accomplished ; and no one, with the slightest
love of reading, can possibly be disappointed in the
perusal of his book. As an evidence of what we so
briefly and strongly recommend, we lay before our rea-
ders the following extract. It forms part of Letter IX.
of this tempting volume, which, in its rambling and
agreeable manner, treats of St. Helena, Napoleon's
house, his tomb, and many other things which touch
the heart:

know not that I can better lighten of their weight some of the
heavy hours of a voyage, than by writing a letter of recolkcti,ins,
and thoughts, and hopes.—that schoolboy word.
St. Helena must nut be passed over without notice, for it was
the only land we made; though all that can be said of this mi-
serable place has been often repeated. I have heard that Napo-
leon was shocked on landing; and I can easily believe it. To him
it must have spoken, " Hope enters net here!" Batteries ate
placed at every possible point, and its naked and sun-scotched
rocks bristle with guns. A scene more drew, barren, and deso-
late, I never saw; and its few trees, among which are the cocoa-
nut and date, far from enlivening, add, by contrast, to its parched
and sterile appearance. 4 !diked the prisoner's tomb; it is very
plain, and bears no inscription Tbis is as it should be ;It is
enough to know that Napoleon lies there.
I saw the boom in which be lived, the room in which be died,
and that is which his body lay previous to the funeral • the first is
now a granary, the last is a stable. lam no enthusiast with re-
gard to Buonaparte. nor do I bow before the magic of that " name
at which the world grew pale ;" but I felt a strong sensation of
disgust at seeing the vulgar use to which the house is appropriated:
it should be left, a lone and melancholy ruin, for the night.wlnds
to moan round.
The old serjesnt who has charge of the tomb produced books
one for the names of visitors, another for their remarks, or
theights, that might arise on the occasion. Methinks the Gover-
nor must be a !mesquite, and Sod amusement in the mawkish sen-
timent, the absurd effusions of sublimity, and the doleful attempts
at humour, to which this direction has given birth. My compa-
nion read some, but .they are forgotten, except that one Lady
mabed a silent tear"--a rare thing in a woman ; and one Gentle-
an had made a discovery that Napoleon was ambitious. We re-
Mained three days, and, much as I hate a ship, felt no regret at
leaving 9t. Helena.
I am writing this under the line, with its tremendous sun, and
glassy, glaring sea, its fantastic sultry skies. and sudden gathering
squalls. It is the most interesting pan of the passage; for the in-
habitants of the deep play around the vessel. as if to amuse us iu
the calm. The shark shoots like a lightning-gleam through the
dark-blue waters. The flocks of flying fhb spread their light
silvery wings, and skim over the calm water, in which they dip
for a moment, and rise again with a renewed power of Sight.
Happy, joyous things they seem—too bright for their cold element,
and rising into the soft sunny air, in the playful exercise of the
power that distinguishes them fromi their finny brethren ; but they
rise from the wave only to escape the death that lurks in It, and
fly from the pursuit of the dolphin—that peacock of the deep. For
beauty of ever-varying hues, I never saw anything to equal the
dolphin. When it ascends to the surface of the smooth clear
water, and shows a gleam of shifting, liquid light, or wavering to
and fro by the vessel's side. is, at one moment, of a deep rich
brown; then a glance is caught of its dark azure fin; and when
the sun touches it, green, yellow. and silver gleams follow, which
have faded tato some other hue almost ere you can name them. I
have seen the sea alive with them all round the ship, darting from
the waves in thousands and tens of thousands, while the whole sur-
face of the water was Moused by their ever-radiant colours.
" Within the shadow of the ship,
I watch'd their rich attire,
Bhie. glossy green, and velvet black ;
They coiled and swam, and every track
Was a Sash of golden fire."
A ship is the reverse of poetical, notwithstanding all that Cowper
or Campbell an say about it. The first represents his as