BRAZIL:

ITS CONDITION AND PROSPECTS.

CHAPTER I.

VOYAGE TO BRAZIL.

AT the time I left the United States for Brazil, in the summer of 1882, there was no regular line of passenger-steamers running between New York and Rio de Janeiro. The old American line had ceased, and the present one had not commenced. The consequence was, that our voyage to Brazil was by the way of Europe, while the voyage home was from Rio to New York on one of the new American steamers. I embarked with my wife and daughter on the North-German Lloyd's steamship Oder, and, after a pleasant passage, landed at Southampton, whence we went by steamer to Havre, and thence overland to Lisbon, stopping a few days at Paris, Madrid, and Lisbon. It was particularly interesting to visit Portugal before going to the empire which it had planted. We had been so well pleased with the German steamer, that we took one of the same company's ships for the passage from Lisbon to Rio, the Graf Bismarck, Captain Thallenhorst commanding, on which we em

barked out in the calm waters of the Tagus the lovely afternoon of August 5th. We made the voyage to Rio in twenty-one days, and were favored with pleasant weather and a comparatively smooth sea all the way. There were only three or four cabin - passengers besides ourselves, and we were favored with an abundance of room. The fourth day out we landed at one of the Canary Islands, upon which there is very grand mountain scenery. We spent a short time in its capital city, Santa Cruz, where the steamer took upward of a hundred immigrant passengers bound for one of the River Plate countries. August 22d, we landed and spent about half a day at Bahia, Brazil's capital in early colonial times, and now her second city. It has a striking situation on red land, which rises abruptly a hundred feet or more above the water. A small park overlooking the sea, and filled with tall palms and large shade-trees, is one of the first objects that arrest attention in approaching the city from the north. As we proceeded down the Brazilian coast, a range of green mountains some distance inland could frequently be seen. From time to time, as we got a little nearer land, cultivated plantations were visible. Nearer the sea were low hills, with a strip of white sand always bordering the shore. We arrived off Rio de Janeiro before sunrise, Saturday, August 26th, and, being awakened for the purpose, arose and went to the captain's bridge to observe the scenery on entering the port. It was very picturesque and pleasing, though the more distant mountains were somewhat obscured by clouds. The granite cone, called the Sugar-Loaf, was among the nearest prominent objects. A chain of irregular mountains seemed to inclose the harbor of Rio, and from one point of view the captain pointed out how the summits formed the figure of a man repos

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ing, of which, if I recollect right, the Sugar-Loaf was the feet. The scenery, though not of the sublime cast of towering mountains, was, nevertheless, striking. On entering the ample harbor the scene continually increased in interest until the anchor was dropped. An extensive city, sparkling in the morning sun, lay stretched at great length along the scalloped shore of the bay, covering several hills in its limits, and extending to the very slopes of the tree-covered mountains. Botafogo Bay, the Gloria Hill, and the church on its top, Santa Theresa Hill, the Public Garden, the towers of the Cathedral--these were some of the objects that were first pointed out to us. There, sure enough, was Rio de Janeiro, the greatest city of South America, an interesting and attractive place, no doubt, yet still a city frequently scourged with the dreaded yellow fever; there was the city which was to be our new home-for how long?

It was about nine o'clock when we went ashore. We first walked to the office of the steamship company, and from there took a carriage to our hotel, feeling, of course, grateful for having accomplished so long a journey in safety.

There had been nothing of special interest in our passage from Lisbon. I was usually awakened before sunrise every morning by the seamen washing off the deck, and hearing the pigs, which were carried for subsistence, scampering about on deck at the same time, a freedom they had while their pens were being washed. Our meals were not taken down-stairs in the cabin, but in a pleasant room forward opening from the deck. Breakfast was at eight o'clock, consisting of a good beefsteak, fried potatoes, good coffee or tea, and bread and fresh eggs; dinner at 2 P. M. and tea at about dark. The after