496 BAHIA, BRAZIL. [chap, xxi. 



on which numerous boats and canoes show their white sails. 

 Excepting from these points, the scene is extremely limited : 

 following the level pathways, on each hand, only glimpses into the 

 wooded valleys below can be obtained. The houses, I may add, 

 and especially the sacred edifices, are built in a peculiar and 

 rather fantastic style of architecture. They are all whitewashed ; 

 so that when illumined by the brilliant sun of midday, and as 

 seen against the pale blue sky of the horizon, they stand out more 

 like shadows than real buildings. 



Such are the elements of the scenery, but it is a hopeless attempt 

 to paint the general effect. Learned naturalists describe these 

 scenes of the tropics by naming a multitude of objects, and men- 

 tioning some characteristic feature of each. To a learned 

 traveller this possibly may communicate some definite ideas : but 

 who else from seeing a plant in an herbarium can imagine its 

 appearance when growing in its native soil ? Who from seeing 

 choice plants in a hothouse, can magnify some into the dimen- 

 sions of forest trees, and crowd others into an entangled jungle? 

 Who when examining in the cabinet of the entomologist the gay 

 exotic butterflies, and singular cicadas, will associate with these 

 lifeless objects, the ceaseless harsh music of the latter, and the 

 lazy flight of the former, — the sure accompaniments of the still, 

 glowing noonday of the tropics? It is when the sun has 

 attained its greatest height, that such scenes should be viewed : 

 then the dense splendid foliage of the mango hides the ground 

 with its darkest shade, whilst the upper branches are rendered 

 from the profusion of light of the most brilliant green. In the 

 temperate zones the case is different — the vegetation there is not 

 so dark or so rich, and hence the rays of the declining sun, tinged 

 of a red, purple, or bright yellow colour, add most to the beauties 

 of those climes. 



AVhen quietly walking along the shady pathways, and admir- 

 ing each successive view, I wished to find language to express 

 my ideas. Epithet after epithet was found too weak to convey 

 to those who have not visited the intertropical regions, the sens- 

 ation of delight which the mind experiences. I have said that 

 the plants in a hothouse fail to communicate a just idea of the 

 vegetation, yet I must recur to it. The land is one great wild, 

 untidy, luxuriant liothouse, made by Nature for herself, but taken 



