island of Fernando Noronha we found in latitude 3° 51' 04'' south, and longitude 32° 27' 15'' west. It was at one time much resorted to by whalers for provisions and water, although the scarcity of the latter at certain seasons, does not render it at all times desirable for this purpose. It is about seven miles long, and from two to three in breadth.

Noronha was at one time used by the Brazilian government as a place of transportation for criminals, principally those exiled for treason, and offenders against the state, and is said to contain some beautiful scenery; also to produce magnificent fruit. But we were not to linger there, and soon its peak, becoming more and more indistinct, sinking slowly, lost its proportions beneath the horizon.

The first day of what would have been called spring in our own beautiful land, was ushered in by an alarm of fire. The officers and the different messes were nearly all at breakfast when the signal for such an accident was given, and were not slow in obeying its summons; in less than a minute every one was at his station, when the smoke was discovered issuing from the galley funnel forward, into which a lazy cook, whose duty it was to have it properly cleaned every morning, had inserted some straw for the purpose of performing his duty more expeditiously and effectually; and indeed he had nearly succeeded in getting rid of it altogether, had it not been for the promptness of a forecastle man, who seizing a bucket of water, opportunely standing near him on the topgallant forecastle, dashed it down the funnel, preventing the flames from communicating with the foresail, and thus probably saved the ship.

Of all the numerous accidents to which a man-of-war is so peculiarly liable, that of destruction by fire is most likely to occur, and requires the strictest discipline to guard against; for this are established certain hours for smoking, and a stated period at night for the extinguishing of all lights; so that after ten o'clock the peopled ship speeds on her way, over the dark bosom of the heaving billows, with only the light in the binnacle to show her course upon the illuminated card, and the well-secured lamp in the cabin, by which her commander, anxious and unsleeping, traces her track along the corrected chart.

Upon the tenth day of March, Sunday, at seven bells in the last dog watch, we came to anchor in the harbor of Rio de Janeiro, off the town known generally by the name of the river, but originally called San Sebastian. After forty days at sea, the exact time made by the first voyageur, Noah, we were as anxious as he might be supposed to have been, to escape from his menagerie; for take it as you will, you will find Emerson's "Experience" to agree with yours in this respect, however you may differ from him in others, when he states in his essay with that title (which essay, par parenthesis, I was compelled to swallow in hospital for want of better mental aliment), that, "Every ship is a romantic object, except the one you sail in,—embark, and the romance quits your vessel, and hangs on every other sail in the horizon."

After, as I have said, this period of probation, in a vessel crowded almost to the extent of Noah's, and whose crew bore some resemblance to his, if one might judge from the growls on board—the prospect of a trip to the shore, fresh provender and iced drinks was delicious, especially as the Hotel of Pharoux had been so repeatedly extolled during the passage as a horn of plenty, abounding in delicacies, and our mouths had been so often made to water upon many a "banyan day," by the luscious descriptions of those who had on former occasions the happiness to have indulged therein. But alas! for human hopes and expectations;

For early on the next morning, after getting out the boats, and making other preparations for a visit to Rio, an order came from our commodore on that station, forbidding us to land, or to hold communication with the shore, on account of the prevalence of the yellow fever, then epidemic there. So here we lay, only a few cables' length from the Ilha da Cobras, with all the tropical plants and fruit almost within reach, and tantalizing us with their perfume,—the domes, palaces and public buildings of a gay capital (unvisited by many), rising picturesquely before us, and yet forbidden. We thought of Tantalus, and his fate, of Prometheus and the rock—of—of Adam and his expulsion, and must own that in our first feelings of disappointment, we made but a partial excuse for our primal progenitor, and great great grandmother, as we repeated those expressive lines of the poet, so early engraved upon our memory—

But trying as was our situation, we were in a measure compensated for our disappointment by the beauty of this unrivalled harbor; and to describe it fully, I must be allowed to revert to the period when the coast of Brazil was first made, with its bold outlines developing new beauties as we approached. Indications of land had been noticed early in the morning of the day of our arrival, and shortly the numerous mountain peaks for which this coast is celebrated, filled the horizon before us like a line of dark clouds. As the distance was diminished, peak after peak stood out in bold relief against the blue sky, and we were soon enabled to make out the False Sugarloaf, Corcovado, Lord Hood's Nose, and The Tops—so called by sailors, from their resemblance to those parts of a ship. The light breeze, under which we carried studding-sails, and all the canvas that would draw, gradually wafted us towards the mouth of the river, yet so gently did we glide along that not one feature of the scene was lost; but it was not until we had passed the islands that screen its front, that its full magnificence was developed, and then, as by the drawing aside of a curtain, the harbor of Rio de Janeiro was displayed,—a magnificent basin surrounded by innumerable hills, which were dotted with beautiful villas.

Under a spanking breeze, which suddenly sprung up, we dashed on nearly to the base of Sugarloaf Mountain, and then stood over boldly to the fort Santa Cruz, from which we were hailed, and as the short twilight had given way to deeper shadows, were signalized by blue lights, continued by an opposite fortification, until they were noticed at the station on Signal Hill behind the city. Onward we sped, through a fleet of vessels, our craft threading her way, "like a thing of life," obeying the master's steady commands, creating no little sensation, as she darted amongst them, inclining to the right or left, or pressing boldly, straight ahead, to the repeated orders of "starboard," "port," or "steady there, so," and causing the different craft to run up their signal lights quite hastily. "Stand by," "let go the anchor," and there she lay as if taking rest after a long journey.

On viewing the scene from the deck by the early light of the next morning's dawn, I could compare it with nothing but the painting displayed in a theatre, and the quiet that reigned in that still hour, added greatly to the effect. The background of mountains piercing the clouds; the foreground being formed by the town itself with its houses of various hues, and picturesque styles of architecture, ascending the mountain's side, and villas, and country seats aiding the perspective, whilst the island of Cobras served as a side scene.

Around us stretched for leagues this splendid harbor, upon whose broad bosom lay vessels of every nation (and which appeared capable of bearing