SOUTH AMERICA. 
23 
Traveller, forget for a little while the idea thou hast first 
of wandering farther on, and stop and look at this- 
grand picture of vegetable nature; it is a reflection of 
the crowd thou hast lately been in, and though a 
silent monitor, it is not a less eloquent one on that 
account.—See that noble purple-heart before thee! 
Nature has been kind to it. Not a hole, not the 
least oozing from its trunk, to show that its best days 
are past. Vigorous in youthful blooming beauty, it 
stands the ornament of these sequestered wilds, and 
tacitly rebukes those base ones of thine own species, 
who have been hardy enough to deny the existence 
of Him who ordered it to flourish here. 
Behold that one next to it!—Hark ! how the 
hammerings of the red-headed woodpecker resound 
through its distempered boughs! See what a 
quantity of holes he has made in it, and how its 
bark is stained with the drops which trickle down 
from them. The lightning, too, has blasted one 
side of it. Nature looks pale and wan in its leaves, 
and her resources are nearly dried up in its extremi¬ 
ties ; its sap is tainted ; a mortal sickness, slow as a 
consumption, and as sure in its consequences, has 
long since entered its frame, vitiating and destroying 
the wholesome juices there. 
Step a few paces aside, and cast thine eye on that 
remnant of a mora behind it. Best part of its 
branches, once so high and ornamental, now lie on 
the ground in sad confusion, one upon the other, all 
shattered and fungus-grown, and a prey to millions 
of insects, which are busily employed in destroying 
