SANTIAGO. 



225 



ous. The people of Chile, in their taste for rural amusements, put 

 me in mind of what we are told of the inhabitants of the happy valley 

 of Cashmeer, who spend their days and moonlight nights in skiffs, 

 floating about their lovely lake, or wandering in the flowery islands 

 that adorn it. A Chileno family knows no pleasure greater than a 

 walking or riding party into the country ; a matee taken in a garden, 

 or on the brow of a hill under some huge tree; and all ranks seem 

 sensible to the same enjoyment. At sunset we all adjourned to the 

 Casa Cotapos, where the young people sung and danced to a late 

 hour. 



In the forenoon, Don Camilo Henriques, the deputy from Valdivia, 

 and the last month's secretary to the convention, called ; he is clever 

 and agreeable : with him was Dr. Vera, a man of literature and a 

 poet. He has the talent of extemporary versification, if what I hear 

 be true, in as great a degree as Metastasio ; and it is also said that 

 his written poetry is as polished. This gentleman is a perfect Albino : 

 his hair, eyes, and complexion, all are like those we sometimes see 

 in Europe ; but his intellect is far from partaking of the weakness 

 which has generally been observed to accompany the physical pecu- 

 liarity of the Albinos : on the contrary, it is above the common rate 

 of his countrymen ; indeed I may say more, Dr. Vera would figure 

 as a literary man in Europe. He is lately released from the discom- 

 fort of a goitre : his was remarkably large, so much so indeed as to 

 threaten him with suffocation, when a friend advised him to bathe it 

 with Cologne water. This he did diligently several times a day, and 

 the swelling is now so decreased that he wears a neckcloth like an- 

 other man ; and I did not perceive that he had a goitre till I was told 

 of it. Nobody pretends to account for this cure: I write it as he 

 relates it. 



2d Sejrt. — At ten o'clock Mr. Prevost, Mr. de Roos, Dona Mari- 

 quita, Don Jose Antonio, and I, set off to see the baths of Colinas, 

 about ten leagues or a little more from the city. The first three 

 leagues of road are on that which leads to Mendoza, and lie along 

 a plain, for the most part stony, with the exception of a little rise, 

 called the Portesuelo or Gap, by which we passed between two hills 



a G 



