337 
Poets are allowed to soar beyond the boundaries of humble 
prose: the lovely isles in the Odyssey, and Virgil’s rural scenes, 
captivate the youthful mind, and store it with pleasing recollec- 
tions: the embellishments of Tasso, Ariosto, and many of our 
British bards, charm the imagination. 
O 
“ O’er golden sands does rich Paetolus flow, 
“ And trees weep amber on the banks of Po» Addison, 
These poetical fictions belong to Utopian scenery: Anjengo 
groves were not of that delightful kind; there no verdant turf, or 
mossy bank, invited to repose; no purling streams, warbling bul- 
buls, or aromatic shrubs, regaled the senses; our slumbers were 
lulled by the roar of a tremendous surf; the atmosphere was 
impregnated with the fetid odour of fish to manure the rice-fields; 
and the arid sands in which the cocoa-trees were planted, offered 
no temptation for a walk. Without crossing the river, I had but 
little inducement to leave my house; which indeed was a cottage 
thatched with palmyra leaves, so small, that a sofa I carried from 
Bombay could not enter the door, and T remained in a veranda 
the whole time of my banishment. Without a road, cairiages and 
horses would have been useless; our only recreation was sailing 
on the river, landing on its verdant banks, and strolling among the 
wilds; where, 1 allow, the scenery was delightful. 
Most of the inhabitants of Anjengo are Christians of the Romish 
church; either descended from the Portugueze, or converted from 
the lower tribes of Malabars; a poor ignorant people, with whom 
we could not associate: many were fishermen; others made cordage 
2 x 
