again, to gather the yet unseen treasures of the marvellous countries lying between Tabatinga and the slopes of the Andes; but although, after a short rest at Ega, the ague left me, my general health remained in a state too weak to justify the undertaking of further journeys. At length I left Ega, on the 3rd of February, 1859, ex route for England.

I arrived at Pard on the 17th of March, after an absence in the interior of seven yearsand ahalf. My old friends, English, American, and Brazilian, scarcely knew me again, but all gave mea very warm welcome, especially Mr. George R. Brocklehurst (of the firm of R. Singlehurst and Co., the chief foreign merchants, who had been my correspondents), who received me into his house, and treated me with the utmost kindness. I was rather surprised at the warm appreciation shown by many of the principal people of my labours; but, in fact, the interior of the country is still the ‘“sertad” (wilderness),—a terra incognita to most residents of the seaport,—and a man who had spent seven years and a half in exploring it solely with scientific aims was somewhat of a curiosity. I found Parad greatly changed and improved. It was no longer the weedy, ruinous, village-looking place that it appeared when I first knew it in 1848. The population had been increased (to 20,000) by an influx of Portuguese, Madeiran, and German immigrants, and for many years past the provincial government had spent their considerable surplus revenue in beautifying the city.* The streets, formerly unpaved or strewn with loose stones and sand, were now laid with concrete in a most complete manner; all the projecting masonry of the irregularly-built houses had been cleared away, and the buildings made more uniform. Most of the dilapidated houses were replaced by handsome new edifices, having long and elegant balconies fronting the first floors, at an elevation of several feet above the roadway. ‘The large swampy squares had been drained, weeded, and planted with rows of almond and casuarina trees, so that they were now a great ornament to the city, instead of an eyesore as they formerly were. My old favourite road, the Monguba avenue, had been renovated and joined to many other magnificent rides lined with trees, which in a very few years had grown to a height sufficient to afford agreeable shade; one of these, the Estrada de Sad José, had been planted with cocoa-nut palms. Sixty public vehicles, light cabriolets (some of them built in Parad), now plied in the streets, increasing much the animation of the beautiful squares, streets, and avenues.

The revenue of the province of Para, derived almost wholly from high customhouse duties, had averaged for some years past about 41,000,000 sterling. The import duties vary from 18 to Io per cent. ad valorem; export duties from 5 to 10 per cent., the most productive article being india-rubber.

The total value of exports for 1858 was £355,905 45. Od., employing 104 vessels of 29,493 total tonnage. More than half the foreign trade was done with Great Britain; the principal nations in order of amount of import trade ranking as follows:— 1. Great Britain. 2. United States. 3. France. 4. Portugal. 5. Hanse Towns. As most of the articles of consumption are imported, and most of those produced exported, the foreign trade of Para is larger, compared with the internal trade, than it is in most countries. The insignificance of the trade of a country of such vast extent and resources becomes very apparent from the totals here quoted.

I found also the habits of the people considerably changed. Many of the old religious holidays had declined in importance, and given way to secular amusements; social parties, balls, music, billiards, and so forth. ‘There was quite as much pleasure-seeking as formerly, but it was turned in a more rational direction, and the Paraenses seemed now to copy rather the customs of the northern nations of Europe, than those of the mother-country, Portugal. I was glad to see several new booksellers’ shops, and also a fine edifice devoted to a reading-room, supplied with periodicals, globes, maps, and a circulating library. There were now many printing-offices, and four daily newspapers. The health of the place had greatly improved since 1850, the year of the yellow fever, and Parad was now considered no longer dangerous to new-comers.

So much for the improvements visible in the place, and now for the dark side of the picture. The expenses of living had increased about fourfold, a natural consequence of the demand for labour and for native products of all kinds having augmented in greater ratio than the supply, through large arrivals of non-productive residents, and considerable importations of money on account of the steamboat company and foreign merchants. Pard,in 1848, was one of the cheapest places of residence on the American continent; it was now one of the dearest. Imported articles of food, clothing, and furniture were mostly cheaper, although charged with duties varying from 18 to 80 per cent., besides high freights and large profits, than those produced in the neighbourhood. Salt codfish was twopence per pound cheaper than the vile salt , piraruct of the country. Oranges, which could formerly be had almost gratis, were now sold in the streets at the rate of three for a penny; large bananas were a penny each fruit; tomatoes were from two to three pence each, and all other fruit in this fruit-producing country had advanced in like proportion. Mandioca-meal, the bread of the country, had become so scarce and dear and bad, that the poorer classes of natives suffered famine, and all who could afford it were obliged to eat wheaten bread at fourpence to fivepence per pound, made from American flour, 1,200 barrels of which were consumed monthly; this was now, therefore, a very serious item of daily expense to all but the most wealthy. House-rent was most exorbitant; a miserable little place of two rooms, without fixtures or conveniences of any kind, having simply blank walls, cost at the rate of £18 sterling a year. Lastly, the hire of servants was beyond the means of all persons in moderate circumstances; a lazy cook or porter could not be had for less than three or four shillings a day, besides his board and what he could steal. It cost me half a crown for the hire of a small boat and one man to disembark from the steamer, a distance of 100 yards.

In rambling over my old ground in the forests of the neighbourhood, I found great changes had taken place—to me, changes for the worse. The mantle of shrubs, bushes, and creeping plants which formerly, when the suburbs were undisturbed by axe or spade, had been left free to arrange itself in rich, full, and smooth sheets and masses over the forest borders, had been nearly all cut away, and troops of labourers were still employed cutting ugly muddy roads for carts and cattle, through the once clean and lonely woods. Houses and mills had

been erected on the borders of these new roads. The noble forest trees had been cut down, and their naked half-burnt stems remained in the midst of ashes, muddy puddles, and heaps of broken branches. I was obliged to hire a negro boy to show me the way to my favourite path near Una, which I have described in the second chapter of this narrative; the new clearings having quite obliterated the old forest roads. Only a few acres of the glorious forest near Una now remained in their natural state. On the other side of the city, near to the old road to the rice mills, several scores of woodsmen were employed, under government, in cutting a broad carriage-road through the forest to Maranham, the capital of the neighbouring province, distant 250 miles from Para, and this had entirely destroyed the solitude of the grand old forest path. In the course of a few years, however, a new growth of creepers will cover the naked tree-trunks on the borders of this new road, and luxuriant shrubs form a green fringe to the path: it will then become as beautiful a woodland road as the old one was. A naturalist will have, henceforward, to go farther from the city to find the glorious forest scenery which lay so near in 1848, and work much more laboriously than was formerly needed, to make the large collections which Mr. Wallace and I succeeded in doing in the neighbourhood of Para. June 2nd, 1859.—At length, on the 2nd of June, I left Para, probably for ever; embarking in a North American trading-vessel, the Frederick Demming, for New York, the United States route being the quickest as well as the pleasantest way of reaching England. My extensive private collections were divided into three portions, and sent by three separate ships, to lessen the risk of loss of the whole. On the evening ofthe 3rd of June, I took a last view of the glorious forest for which I had so much love, and to explore which I had devoted so many years. The saddest hours I ever recollect to have spent were those of the succeeding night, when, the mameluco pilot having left us free of the shoals and out of sight of land, though within the mouth of the river, at anchor, waiting for the wind, I felt that the last link which connected me with the land of so many pleasing recollections was broken. The Paraenses, who are fully aware of the attractiveness of their country, have an alliterative proverb, “Quem vai para (0) Para para,” “He who goes to Parad stops there,’ and I had often thought I should myself have been added to the list of examples. The desire, however, of seeing again my parents and enjoying once more the rich pleasures of intellectual society, had succeeded in overcoming the attractions of a region which may be fittingly called a Naturalist’s Paradise. During this last night on the Para river a crowd of unusual thoughts occupied my mind. Recollections of English climate, scenery, and modes of life came to me with a vividness I had never before experienced during the eleven years of my absence. Pictures of startling clearness rose up of the gloomy winters, the long grey twilights, murky atmosphere, elongated shadows, chilly springs, and sloppy summers; of factory chimneys and crowds of grimy operatives, rung to work in early morning by factory bells; of union workhouses, confined rooms, artificial cares, and slavish conventionalities. To live again

amidst these dull scenes I was quitting a country of perpetual summer, where my life had been spent like that of three-fourths of the people in gipsy fashion, on the endless streams or in the boundless forests. I was leaving the equator, where the well-balanced forces of Nature maintained a land-surface and climate that seemed to be typical of mundane order and beauty, to sail towards the North Pole, where lay my home under crepuscular skies somewhere about fifty-two degrees of latitude. It was natural to feel a little dismayed at the prospect of so great a change; but now, after three years of renewed experience of England, I find how incomparably superior is civilised life, where feelings, tastes, and intellect find abundant nourishment, to the spiritual sterility of half-savage existence, even if it were passed in the garden of Eden. What has struck me powerfully is the immeasurably greater diversity and interest of human character and social conditions in a single civilised nation, than in equatorial South America, where three distinct races of man live together. The superiority of the bleak north to tropical regions, however, is only in its social aspect; for I hold to the opinion that, although humanity can reach an advanced state of culture only by battling with the inclemencies of nature in high latitudes, itis under the equator alone that the perfect race of the future will attain to complete fruition of man’s beautiful heritage, the earth.

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