anics engaged in trade. The mulattoes are generally
of illegitimate birth, but are sometimes the offspring of marriages
between blacks and the lowest class of whites. From their connexion with
blacks or whites spring all the various gradations of colour met with
among the inhabitants of Brazil. The mulattoes and free negroes form the
middle classes; the few whites found among them being the worst of
characters, ignorant and vicious to the last degree; their repulsive
exterior is worthy of their abandoned lives: they are usually _retail_
slave dealers, and keep shops where these miserable beings are exposed
to view, and may be examined and purchased like any other ware. About
twenty thousand negroes are annually brought to Brazil; the average
price of a female is three hundred, and of a man six hundred piastres.

The principal food of the negroes is a sort of thick paste called
Manioc, which is prepared from Tapioca by kneading in hot water; to an
European palate it has a disagreeable flavour, but may be nutritious, as
the slaves mostly look well-fed; I doubt, however, its being wholesome
without a mixture of other food, and I even think it possible that it
may be the original cause of a terrible disease to which the negroes
alone are subject, and of which they know nothing in their own country.
Large tumours appear on their faces and legs, which do not break, but
increase in size till in some of the sufferers the human form can
scarcely be recognised. A convent situated on a little island, called
Dos Fradres, in the bay of Rio Janeiro, and not far from the town,
contains a hospital, under the superintendence of the government, for
sick negro slaves. I have not been able to learn whether this disease
has been successfully treated here. The father of the Emperor, while he
remained in Rio Janeiro, often visited the convent; and a room is shown
where he used to take refuge when it thundered, as he was excessively
fearful in a storm, and, from some unknown cause, esteemed this chamber
peculiarly safe.

On the 19th of November, the celebration of the anniversary of the
coronation, and the establishment of the Order of the Southern Cross,
attracted me to the capital.

It was scarcely daybreak when the thunder of the cannon from all the
batteries, and from the ships in the roads, recalled the remembrance of
this happy event, which had taken place only the preceding year. The
streets were filled with people; soldiers in their