herself, but taken possession of by man, who has studded it with gay
houses and formal gardens. How great would be the desire in every
admirer of nature to behold, if such were possible, the scenery of
another planet! yet to every person in Europe, it may be truly said,
that at the distance of only a few degrees from his native soil, the
glories of another world are opened to him. In my last walk I stopped
again and again to gaze on these beauties, and endeavoured to fix in my
mind for ever, an impression which at the time I knew sooner or later
must fail. The form of the orange-tree, the cocoa-nut, the palm, the
mango, the tree-fern, the banana, will remain clear and separate; but
the thousand beauties which unite these into one perfect scene must
fade away: yet they will leave, like a tale heard in childhood, a
picture full of indistinct, but most beautiful figures.
August 6th.--In the afternoon we stood out to sea, with the intention
of making a direct course to the Cape de Verd Islands. Unfavourable
winds, however, delayed us, and on the 12th we ran into Pernambuco,--a
large city on the coast of Brazil, in latitude 8 degs. south. We
anchored outside the reef; but in a short time a pilot came on board
and took us into the inner harbour, where we lay close to the town.
Pernambuco is built on some narrow and low sand-banks, which are
separated from each other by shoal channels of salt water. The three
parts of the town are connected together by two long bridges built on
wooden piles. The town is in all parts disgusting, the streets being
narrow, ill-paved, and filthy; the houses, tall and gloomy. The season
of heavy rains had hardly come to an end, and hence the surrounding
country, which is scarcely raised above the level of the sea, was
flooded with water; and I failed in all my attempts to take walks.
The flat swampy land on which Pernambuco stands is surrounded, at the
distance of a few miles, by a semicircle of low hills, or rather by the
edge of a country elevated perhaps two hundred feet above the sea. The
old city of Olinda stands on one extremity of this range. One day I
took a canoe, and proceeded up one of the channels to visit it; I found
the old town from its situation both sweeter and cleaner than that of
Pernambuco. I must here commemorate what happened for the first time
during our nearly five years' wandering, namely, having met with a want
of politeness. I was refused in a sullen manner at two different
houses, and obtained with difficulty from a third, permission to pass
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