To form a correct estimate of Cook's discoveries, it is necessary that, before following the track of that great seaman, we should glance over the vast regions of the Pacific previously unknown to man. Many navigators indeed, since Magellan, had traversed that immense ocean, but the greater part of its expanse still lay buried in obscurity.

To the north of the line, the Spaniards, sailing from Manilla to Acapulco, still servilely followed the route which Urdaneta had pointed out, and all beyond was unexplored.

The regions to the south of the line were better known, but here also maritime discoverers, with the sole exception of Tasman, had confined themselves to the tropical waters. No one had yet tried to sail through the boundless space which to the south of the 25th degree of latitude extended between New Zealand and America. Of Australia only the western coast was known; the existence of Torres' Strait had long since been forgotten, and New Guinea and New Holland were supposed to form one connected land. To the south no one knew whether Australia and Van Diemen's Land were joined together, or severed by a channel; and the eastern coast of the fifth part of the world still awaited a discoverer. The boundaries of New Zealand were buried in the same obscurity. Tasman had only visited the west coast of the northern island, which, as far as was then known, might have extended a thousand miles farther on towards Chili. In one word, the great geographical problem of an enormous southern continent, the existence of which was formerly supposed necessary to form the counterpoise of the northern lands, still remained unsolved. The discoveries already made had indeed narrowed the limits which during the sixteenth century were still assigned to that imaginary continent, but in the unexplored bosom of the South Sea there yet was room enough for lands surpassing the whole of Europe in extent. Many of the South Sea islands moreover, though discovered before Cook's voyages, had vanished again from the memory of the world, or, according to Humboldt's expression, "wavered, as if badly rooted on the map, for want of exact astronomical measurements." Thus two hundred and fifty years after Magellan the Pacific still offered an enormous field for discovery, and when Cook set sail on the 30th of July, 1768, on his first voyage of circumnavigation, nearly one half of the globe lay open to his researches.

The first service he rendered on this voyage was the discovery that the route to the Pacific through the Strait of Le Maire and round Cape Horn was preferable to that which until then had been followed, through the Straits of Magellan.

After having observed at Otaheite the transit of Venus across the sun, which was one of the chief objects of the expedition, he soon after landed on the shores of Huaheine, Ulietea, and Borabora, which had never yet been visited by a European mariner, and gave to the whole group the name of the Society Islands, on account of their close vicinity to each other. Thence he sailed to New Zealand, which he was the first to find consisted of two large islands, separated by the strait which bears his name. With unwearied industry he spent no less than six months on the accurate survey of the New Zealand group, and then sailed to New Holland, the eastern coast of which he first discovered, and closely examined in its full length of 2000 miles. He also found that the continent of Australia was separated from New Guinea by a channel which he called "Endeavour Strait," but to which the justice of posterity has restored or awarded the name of Torres, its first explorer. This whole sea is so full of dangerous reefs and shoals that for months the sounding line was scarce ever laid aside, and any less experienced and prudent navigator must inevitably have been wrecked during these constant cruises in such perilous waters. Even Cook owed more than once his preservation to what may well be called a miraculous interposition of Providence, of which I shall cite a remarkable example. It was on the 10th of June, 1770, in the latitude of Trinity Bay. The vessel sailed, under a fresh breeze and by clear moonlight, through a sea the depth of which the plummet constantly indicated at 20 to 21 fathoms, so that not the least danger was apprehended. But suddenly the depth diminished to four fathoms, and before the lead could be heaved again the vessel struck and remained immoveable, except as far as she was heaved up and down and dashed against the rocks by the surge. The general anxiety may be imagined, and indeed the situation was such as to warrant the most serious apprehensions. It was found that the ship had been lifted over the ledge of a rock and lay in a hollow, inside of the reef, where the water in some places was three or four fathoms deep and in others hardly as many feet. The sheathing boards were knocked off and floating round the ship in great numbers, and at last the false keel also was destroyed, while the constant grating of the vessel against the rock seemed to announce its speedy disruption. It was now necessary to lighten the vessel as much as possible, and soon more than 50 tons' weight was thrown overboard.

On the following morning land was seen at the distance of eight miles; but no islet lay between, on which, in case the vessel went to pieces, a speedy refuge might be found. To add to their distress, the vessel drew so much water that three pumps could hardly master it; and, finally, it was found that even the rising of the flood, on which they mainly reckoned, was unavailing to extricate them from their perilous position. All that could possibly be spared was now therefore cast into the sea, still more to lighten the vessel, and thus the next tide was patiently expected, when, after incredible exertion, the ship righted, and they got her over the ledge of the rock into deep water.

But the men were by this time so much exhausted by their uninterrupted labour that they could not stand to the pumps more than five or six minutes at a time, after which they threw themselves flat on the streaming deck, where they lay till others exhausted like themselves took their places, on which they started up again and renewed their exertions. In this desperate situation one of the midshipmen, named Monkhouse, bethought himself of a means by which a ship, having sprung a leak admitting more than four feet of water in an hour, had yet been able to perform the whole journey from Virginia to London. He took a lower studding-sail, and, having mixed a large quantity of oakum and wool together, stitched them down by handfuls as lightly as possible. The sail was then hauled under the ship's bottom by means of ropes which kept it extended. When it came under the leak, the wool and oakum, with part of the sail, were forced inwards by the pressure of the water, which thus prevented its own ingress in such an effectual manner that one pump, instead of three, was now sufficient to keep it under. In this way they got the ship into a convenient port on the coast of New Holland, where they repaired the injury. Here it was found that their preservation was not entirely owing to that ingenious expedient, for one of the holes in the ship's bottom was almost entirely plugged by a piece of rock which had broken off and stuck in it; and this hole was so large, that, had it not been filled up in this truly extraordinary manner, the vessel must undoubtedly have sunk. Some persons, leading a tranquil life unvexed by storm or wave, might perhaps be inclined to ascribe so miraculous an escape to chance, but the seaman, who has had death before his eyes, will always in such a case recognise the hand of an Almighty protector: and who can doubt that a thrill of intense gratitude flashed through the soul of Cook on the discovery of the cause to which he owed the preservation of his life?

With a vessel thus shattered, and a crew thus worn with fatigue, further discoveries were no more to be thought of, and Cook hastened to return by way of Batavia and the Cape to England, where he arrived on the 11th of June, 1771.

The object of his second voyage (1772-1775) was to determine finally the question of the existence of a great southern continent, and to extend the geography of that part of the globe to its utmost limits. Sir Joseph Banks and Dr. Solander had accompanied him on his first voyage, this time John Reinhold Forster and his son George were engaged by government to explore and collect the natural history of the countries through which they should pass.

On the 13th of July, 1772, Cook sailed from Plymouth, and reached the Cape without having a single man sick. Well aware how much cleanliness and pure air contribute to health, he had neglected none of the means necessary to insure it. Every day the beds were aired, the linen of the sailors was frequently washed, and in rainy weather fire often made between decks, to dispel unwholesome damps and effluvia.

He now sailed to the south far into a desert and unknown sea, crossed it in various directions, and after having spent 117 days on the ocean, mostly among floating ice-fields, and without having once seen land, he steered northwards to the well-known coast of New Zealand, where on the 25th of January, 1773, he cast anchor in Dusky Bay. The feelings of the seaman may be imagined, when, after long wanderings over the waste of waters, he sees land, mountains, forests, and green plains rise above the horizon, when singing-birds take the place of the wild sea-mew, and friendly faces greet him on the strand. A beneficent mind is ever anxious to do good, and thus before sailing farther on to Otaheite, Cook caused a little garden to be planted, in which European vegetable seeds were sown and confided with proper instructions to the care of the intelligent savages, who were moreover presented with goats and pigs.

On the return voyage from Tahiti to New Zealand, where he intended to provide himself with fire-wood and provisions, before advancing once more into the high southern latitudes, he was pleased with the discovery of the small but lovely Harvey Islands, whose green girdle of cocoa-nut palms mirrors itself in the dark blue waters.

And now again he cruised in all directions through the icy sea, over an extent of 65° of longitude and as far as the 71st degree of southern latitude, without having seen any land; and having thus satisfied himself of the non-existence of a southern continent, or at least of its circumscription within bounds which must ever render it perfectly useless to man, he left those dreary regions of eternal winter, to continue his discoveries under a less inclement sky.

He first visited Easter Island and the Marquesas, where a new discovery received the name of Hood's Island, and on the way thence to Tahiti added the Palisser Group to the map of the world. We now follow him to the extensive archipelago of Espiritu Santo, first seen by Quiros in 1606, who took it for a part of the imaginary southern continent. Since then it had only been visited by Bougainville (1768), who however had contented himself with landing on the Isle of Lepers, and ascertaining the fact that it did not form part of a continent but of a considerable group of islands. Cook on his part examined the whole archipelago in such an accurate manner, ascertaining the situation of many of the islands and discovering such numbers of new ones, that he justly thought he had acquired the right to rebaptize them under the name of the New Hebrides.

From these islands he sailed for the third time to New Zealand, and discovered on his passage New Caledonia and the romantic Norfolk Island.

Leaving New Zealand on the 10th of November, 1774, once more to search for the southern continent, he traversed a vast extent of sea for 17 days, from 43° to 55° 48' S. lat., when he gave up all thoughts of finding any more land in that part of the ocean, and determined to steer directly for the west entrance of the Straits of Magellan, with a design of coasting the southern part of Tierra del Fuego, quite round Cape Horn to Le Maire's Straits. Those wild, deeply indented, rocky coasts, the region of eternal storms and fogs, form the most striking contrast to the smiling shores of the South Sea islands. But, if in the latter the splendour of tropical vegetation enchants the eye of the spectator, the exuberance of animal life in the Magellanic Archipelago may well raise his astonishment. In one of the small islands near Staaten Land Cook admired the remarkable harmony reigning among the different species of mammifera and birds. The sea-lions occupied the greatest part of the sea-coast, the bears the inland; the shags were posted on the highest cliffs, the penguins in such places as had the best access to the sea; and the other birds chose more retired places. Occasionally, however, all these animals were seen to mix together like domestic cattle and poultry in a farmyard, without one attempting to hurt the other in the least. Even the eagles and the vultures were frequently observed sitting together on the hills among the shags, while none of the latter, either old or young, appeared to be disturbed at their presence. No doubt the poor fishes had to pay for the touching union of this "happy family."

Having fully explored the southern extremity of America, we once more see the indefatigable navigator steer forth into the deserts of the southern Polar Ocean, where he discovers some snow-clad isles, Bird Island, South Georgia, Sandwich Land, the southern Thule; and finally returns to England (30th July, 1775) after an absence of three years and seventeen days.

His third voyage (1776) was undertaken for the purpose of exploring the Northern Pacific, and casting the same broad light over those unvisited waters as over the southern part of that vast ocean. To the south-east of the Cape of Good Hope he discovered Prince Edward's Islands, and thence proceeded to explore Kerguelen's Land, discovered six years previously by the Frenchman of that name. This wintry island bears neither tree nor shrub, but in the bays the gigantic sea-weeds form submarine forests, and countless penguins make the dreary shores resound with their deep braying voice.

Van Diemen's Land, New Zealand, and the Friendly and Society Isles were now visited for the last time. Steering to the north, Cook discovered in the last days of the year 1777 the Sandwich Islands, most likely previously known to the Spaniards, but kept secret from the world; and reached on the 7th of March, 1778, the mountainous forest-girt coast of New Albion, along which two centuries before Drake had sailed as far as 48° N. lat. Penetrating farther and farther to the north, he at length reached the most westerly point of the American continent, Cape Prince of Wales, which, stretching far out into the Straits of Behring, is only thirty-nine miles distant from the east coast of Siberia. Both pillars of this water-gate, according to Chamisso's description, are high mountains within sight of each other, rising abruptly from the sea on the Asiatic side, while on the American their foot is bordered by a low alluvial plain. On the Asiatic side the sea has its greatest depth, and the current, which sets from the south into the channel with a rapidity of two or three knots an hour, its greatest strength. Whales and numberless herds of walruses are seen only on the Asiatic side.

Through these famous straits, which Deshnew had first passed, and which Behring most likely never saw, Cook penetrated into the Arctic Ocean, examined a part of the Siberian coast, and then sailed to the opposite shores of America, where he discovered and explored the coast of West Georgia as far as 70° 44' N. lat., until fields of ice opposed an impenetrable barrier to his progress.

After having thus illumined with the torch of science the farthest extremities of the earth, Cook once more steered to the south and discovered Hawaii, the largest of the Sandwich Islands. But better had it been for him if the glory of this discovery had fallen to the share of some other navigator, for it was here that the illustrious seaman, who had thrice circumnavigated the globe, was doomed to fall by the club of a barbarous savage.

No navigator has ever made so many important discoveries at such distances from each other as Cook, or done more for the progress of geographical knowledge. The wide Pacific he so thoroughly explored, that his successors found only single ears to glean where he had reaped the richest harvest. With the firm resolution and the indomitable perseverance of the ancient mariners who preceded him on that vast ocean, he combined a scientific knowledge they never possessed. What they had only flightily observed, or imperfectly described, he in reality discovered, and indelibly marked upon the map of the globe. Indefatigable with the astrolabe and the plummet, he neglected no opportunity of pointing out to his successors both the dangers they would have to avoid, and the harbours in which they might find a refuge against storms, and a supply of fresh water and provisions. His excellent method of preserving the health of seamen from the murderous attacks of the scurvy, secures him a lasting place among the benefactors of mankind. But he not only anxiously watched over the welfare of his companions—his humanity extended a no less salutary influence over the savages with whom he came in contact. He everywhere sought to better their condition, made them presents of useful animals and seeds, and pointed out to them the advantages of peace and agriculture. But his chief praise remains yet to be told, and this is, that he owed the high position he acquired in life exclusively to himself. He whose fame reached as far as the limits of the civilised world, and whose death was mourned as a national calamity, was the son of a poor labourer, and had commenced his career as a common sailor.

The most celebrated navigators during the last quarter of the eighteenth century were Vancouver and La Peyrouse.

Vancouver, who had accompanied Cook on his last and fatal voyage, gained his chief laurels (1790) by thoroughly exploring the north-west coast of America, which his illustrious friend had merely sketched in its most important outlines, having been prevented by his untimely end from investigating it more fully on a second visit. Vancouver began his hydrographical labours at Cape Mendocino, examined the Straits of Juan de Fuca, and, having convinced himself of the non-existence of a passage to the eastward, accurately investigated the labyrinth of bays, isles, sounds, and inlets, extending between 50° and 60° N. lat., thus establishing the important fact of the uninterrupted continuation of the American continent in these parts. Vancouver's Island will transmit his name to the latest posterity, and British Columbia remember him as the first navigator that accurately mapped her shores.

The fame of La Peyrouse is owing more to his misfortunes than to his eminent services. After having distinguished himself as a naval officer, he was sent by the equally unfortunate Louis XVI. on the voyage of discovery from which he was never to return. On the coast of Tartary and in the Japanese seas he examined a part of the world which hitherto no European had visited, and after having rectified many geographical errors sailed to Botany Bay, whence he forwarded his last despatches (7th Feb. 1788) to Europe. With the design of sailing through Torres' Straits to the Gulf of Carpentaria, he left the new-born English colony, but disappeared in the trackless ocean, and years and years passed on without solving the mystery of his fate.

At length, in 1826, Captain Dillon, an Englishman, was informed by Martin Bushart, a Prussian sailor whom he found settled on the Island of Tikopia, that many years since two large ships had been wrecked on the neighbouring Island of Vanikoro. Having brought this intelligence to Calcutta, he was sent out by the East India Company in the "Research" to make further inquiries on the scene of the catastrophe. On the 13th of Sept., 1827, Dillon anchored at Vanikoro, and, having collected the most interesting relics of the shipwreck, left it after a few weeks.

These facts became known at Hobart Town to the French circumnavigator Dumont d'Urville, who immediately resolved to sail to Vanikoro. He arrived there on the 22nd Feb., 1828, but at first found it very difficult to persuade the suspicious natives to point out to him the remains of the wrecked ship, until the offer of a piece of red cloth effectually overcame their scruples. One of the boldest immediately jumped into a boat and offered to guide them on condition of receiving the proffered reward. The bargain was gladly struck, and the Frenchmen, piloted by the negro, eagerly pushed off from shore.

The coral reef which forms an enormous girdle round Vanikoro approaches the land opposite to the village of Paiou, so that the distance between them is hardly a mile. There, in a channel dividing the breakers, the savage caused the boat to stop, and made signs to the Frenchmen to look down to the bottom, where they saw anchors, cannons, and other objects scattered about and overgrown with corals. No doubt now remained, and with deep emotion they gazed on these last memorials of the unfortunate expedition of La Peyrouse. Metal alone had been able to resist the tooth of time, the rolling waters, or the gnawing ship-worm; all wood-work was gone.

I have already stated that on D'Urville's arrival he found the natives extremely distrustful and shy, answering all his questions by negations. It was evident that their conduct towards La Peyrouse had been anything but hospitable, and that they now feared the tardy vengeance of the white men. But, finding themselves treated with invariable kindness, their fears gradually gave way, and thus it became possible to gather some information about the catastrophe from some old men who had witnessed it, and from the most intelligent of the chiefs.

After a dark and stormy night the islanders saw early on the following morning an enormous pirogue stranded on the coral reef on the south side of the island. The surf soon destroyed the ship, and but a small number of the crew reached the shore in a boat. On the following day a second large pirogue stranded opposite Paiou. But this wreck lying on the lee-side of the island, less exposed to the surf, and resting on a more even ground, remained a longer time without going to pieces. The whole of the crew escaped in the boats to Paiou, where they built a small vessel, and after a stay of five months once more embarked, and were never heard of since. Most likely they had steered towards New Ireland, with the intention of ultimately reaching the Moluccas or the Philippine Islands, and perished on some unknown reef. The unhealthy condition of D'Urville's crew prevented him from extending his researches any further along the western coasts of the Solomon Islands. That the stranded vessels were those of La Peyrouse is beyond all doubt; for years before and after no other large vessels had been lost in those seas. The heavy cannons could only have belonged to ships of war such as La Peyrouse commanded, and several of the instruments collected by Captain Dillon evidently belonged to a scientific expedition.

Before D'Urville left Vanikoro he resolved to raise a simple monument to the memory of his unfortunate countrymen, a four-sided pyramid resting on a square base. Neither nails nor iron clasps fastened the coral blocks together, for fear of awakening the cupidity of the savages; and, if they have kept their word to honour the Papalangi monument as they would a temple erected to their own gods, it still reminds the navigator whom chance may lead to that secluded island, of the renown and tragical end of the ill-fated La Peyrouse.