319 
melancholy, and reminded us of the beautiful lines in * Mar- 
mion,'— 
* Such have I heard in Scottish land 
Rise from the busy harvest band, 
When falls before the mountaineer, 
In lowland plains, the ripened ear. 
Now one shrill voice the notes prolong ; 
Now a wild chorus swells the song : 
Oft have I listened and stood still, 
As it came softened up the hill, 
And deemed it the lament of men 
Who languished for their native glen. 
ao 
From the Isle of France, Capt. Carmichael paid a visit 
to the Isle of Bourbon; and his account of that country is 
peculiarly interesting, especially to the Naturalist. 
* In the year 1813, I obtained leave of absence for a few 
months to visit the Island of Bourbon. With this view I 
embarked, the 31st J uly, on board the Semiramis frigate, 
and landed at Saint Denis, the 2d August. As we remained 
the whole morning becalmed within a few leagues of the 
shore, we had an opportunity of viewing, to great advantage, 
the general outline of this interesting spot. The rays of the 
rising sun, sweeping from ridge to ridge, threw every 
depression on its surface into shade; and the whole island, 
as far as the eye could penetrate, seemed cloven to the very 
base by a series of gloomy chasms that cut it into numerous 
detached masses radiating from a common centre. - Over 
the middle region of the island, the clouds of night still 
floated in fleecy volumes; while the Piton des Neiges, 
Piercing through the veil, stood exposed to view, like one 
of those volcanic rocks that meet the eye of the mariner in 
the midst of the ocean. 
The anchorage of St. Denis is an open roadstead, exposed 
to the wind, which blows, with few intermissions, from the 
eastward, sweeping along the coast. The beach is uncom- 
monly abrupt, and the landing, by reason of the surge, 
rdous, The ruin of a pier, erected by La Bourdonnaye, 
still Serves to support a platform that extends beyond the 
teakers, and where all commodities are embarked or 
