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tion of this opinion, it may be observed that the coast which 
borders the Pays brilé recedes considerably, forming a 
portion of a circle, of which a line drawn between the points 
of the two ramparts would be the chord. 
“A late French traveller has described, in glowing lariguage, 
the melancholy impression made on his mind by the frightful 
sterility of the Pays brülé, and by its * profound solitude, 
undisturbed by the screams of birds or the voice of man. 
To a person who has travelled much in Bourbon, unless he 
belongs to the sentimental caste, the Pays brülé is not the 
part of the country most likely to suggest those frightful ideas 
of sterility which a florid detail of its horrors is apt to excite. 
For its extent, it is the smoothest portion of the whole island, 
and, at certain seasons of the year, less repulsive than many 
others, Nothing can be more dismal, in truth, or more 
strongly indicative of barrenness, than those tracts all over 
the island, which, stripped of their native wood, are left in 
an uncultivated state. At this season, in particular, when 
the herbage is parched by the sun, or set on fire, according 
to annual practice, they present to view a surface as black 
as the Pays brülé; and are, besides, disfigured by ridges and 
chasms, and by fragments of rocks and stones, strewed over 
the ground, or piled on each other in the strangest confusion. 
The P ays brülé is void of all these asperities; its surface is 
unbroken, and it possesses also its vegetation, such as it is. 
Its Lichens are a little shrivelled at present, it must be con- 
fessed, but let the slightest shower fall, and they assume a 
delicate verdure, what Botanists term a * glaucous green,’ the 
softest and most pleasing of all colours, reminding us of the ` 
first frail efforts of spring after the ravages of a boisterous 
Winter. Nor is it in Bourbon that a man of genuine sensi- 
bility would be most likely to feel the ennui of solitude, or to 
Wish it disturbed by the voice of man, where that voice most 
Usually assails the ear in the half-stifled groan of the slave 
ding under his burden. — 
“From the Pays brûlé to the village of Ste. Rose, the road 
Passes through a succession of plantations in the midst of a. 
natural scenery of great beauty. This district enjoying the | 
