The entrance to the harbour is through a passage in one of the coral reefs which surround the island, the coral insects building upwards from the submerged flanks of the land, until the reefs emerge from the waves, more or less distant from the shore. As the water at the shallowest part of the entrance is only about twenty-two feet, vessels of twenty-feet draught and over have to remain outside, where, however, there is good anchorage and shelter, unless when the wind blows strong from the south. The water inside the reefs is usually smooth, though the waves outside may be dashing themselves to foam on their crests.

A glance at the situation of the Sandwich Islands on the map will serve to show the important part they are destined to play in the future commerce of the Pacific. They lie almost directly in the course of all ships passing from San Francisco and Vancouver to China and Japan, as well as to New Zealand and Australia. They are almost equidistant from the coasts of Russia and America, being rather nearer to the American coast, from which they are distant about 2100 miles. They form, as it were, a stepping-stone on the great ocean highway of the Pacific between the East and the West—between the old world and the new—as well as between the newest and most prosperous settlements in the Western States of America and Australia. And it is because Honolulu—the principal town in the island of Oahu, and the capital of the Sandwich Islands—possesses by far the best, most accessible, and convenient harbour, that it is a place likely to become of so much importance in the future. It has not been unusual to see as many as from a hundred to a hundred and fifty sail riding securely at anchor there.

As seen from the harbour, Honolulu is an extremely pretty place. It lies embowered in fresh green foliage, the roofs of the houses peeping up here and there from amongst the trees, while the waving fronds of the cocoa-nut palms rise in some places majestically above them, contrasting strangely with the volcanic crags and peaks which form the distant background. In the older part of the town, to the right, the houses are more scattered about; and from the first appearance of the place, one would scarcely suppose that it contained so large a population as twelve thousand, though many of the houses are doubtless hidden by the foliage and the undulations of the ground on which the place is built.

Behind the town, a plain of about two miles in width extends to the base of the mountain range which forms its background. The extraordinary shapes of the mountains—their rugged ravines and precipitous peaks—unmistakably denote the volcanic agencies that have been at work in forming the islands, and giving to the scenery its most marked features. Just at the back of the town, a deep valley, or rather gorge, runs through a break in the hills, the sides of which are covered with bright green foliage. The country, which rises gradually up to this break in the mountains, is exceedingly picturesque. Altogether, the first sight of the place came fully up to my anticipations of the beauty of a tropical town in the Pacific.

I proceeded to take my first walk through Honolulu at half-past five in the morning. It was the 25th of January—the dead of winter; but there is no winter in Honolulu. It is as warm as August is in England; and the warmth of the place all the year through is testified by the fact that there is not a dwelling-house chimney in the town. I walked along the shady streets up to the market-place, and there I found a number of the natives squatted on their haunches, selling plantains, oranges, bananas, fruits, and vegetables. I invested sixpence in an enormous bunch of bananas, which I carried back with me to the ship for the use of our party, very much to their enjoyment, for the fruit was in perfection.

In the course of the forenoon I proceeded to explore Honolulu at greater leisure. I found the central portion of the town consisted of regularly laid out streets, many of the houses enclosed within gardens. The trees standing here and there amongst the shops and warehouses give them a fresh and primitive look. I pass several places of worship in going to the Post Office,—the English Cathedral, chapels of American Congregationalists, Wesleyan Methodists, and Roman Catholics. There is also the Royal Hawaiian Theatre, and an Equestrian Circus, as well as a Police Office. Police? "Yes; bless you, sir, we are civilised!"

I could see the Post Office a long way off before I reached it, standing in a small square at the head of one of the principal streets. It was easily known by the crowd of people, both natives and foreigners, on the steps. For the mail had just come in by the 'Moses Taylor,' and everybody was anxious to know what had been the upshot of the European war and the siege of Paris. That war even threatens to disturb the peace of Honolulu itself; for there is now a French man-of-war at anchor in the harbour, the 'Hamelin,' watching a fine German merchant ship, the 'Count Bismarck,' that arrived a few days before the Frenchman. The Germans have taken the precaution to paint "Honolulu" on the stern of their vessel, and to place themselves under the protection of the Hawaiian Government. So the commander of the French ship, finding he can make no capture here, has weighed anchor and steamed out of port, doubtless to lie in wait for the German vessel outside should she venture to put to sea.

I found the Post Office a sort of joint post-office and stationer's shop, the principal business consisting in the sale of newspapers. I was amazed to find that though a steamer runs regularly from Honolulu to Australia there is no postal communication with Victoria, except viâ America and England! This is on account of the Victorian Government refusing to subsidize the new Californian and Australian mail line. Should such a line become established and prosper, the Victorians fear that an advantage would be given to Sydney, and that Melbourne, instead of being on the main line of mail communication, as it now is, would be shunted on to a branch. But surely there is room enough for a mail line by both the Atlantic and Pacific routes, without occasion for jealousy either on the part of Sydney or Melbourne.