omless fund of
information, and a readiness to serve an Anglo-Saxon, have made an
invaluable cicerone. We shot through the devious, narrow streets to the
Hotel Diana, where we made our toilet, for our habiliments, too, had
reached their _ultima thule_. As La Condamine said on his arrival at
Quito: "_Je me trouvai hors d'etat de paroitre en public avec decence_."

The same year which saw Shakspeare carried to his grave beside the Avon
witnessed the founding of Para, or, speaking more respectfully, of Santa
Maria de Belem do Gram Para. The city stands on a low elbow of land
formed by the junction of the rivers Guama and Para, seventy-five miles
from the ocean. The great forest comes close up to the suburbs; and, in
fact, vegetation is so rapid the city fathers have a hard struggle to
keep the jungle out of the streets. The river in front is twenty miles
wide, but the vast expanse is broken by numerous islets. Ships of any
size will float within, one hundred and fifty yards of the shore. All
passengers and goods are landed by boats at the custom-house wharf. The
city is regularly laid out, there are several public squares, and many
of the streets, especially in the commercial part, are well paved.
Magnificent avenues, lined with silk-cotton trees, cocoa-palms, and
almonds, lead out to beautiful _rocinhas_, or country residences, of one
story, but having spacious verandas. The President's house, built in the
Italian style, whose marble staircase is a wonder to Brazil; the six
large churches, including the cathedral, after patterns from Lisbon; the
post-office, custom-house, and convent-looking warehouses on the
mole--these are the most prominent buildings. The architecture is
superior to that of Quito. The houses, generally two-storied, are
tiled, plastered, and whitewashed or painted; the popular colors are
red, yellow, and blue. A few have porcelain facing. The majority have
elegant balconies and glass windows, but not all the old projecting
lattice casements have disappeared. Some of the buildings bear the marks
of the cannonading in the Revolution of 1835. Instead of bedrooms and
beds, the largest apartments and verandahs have hooks in the wall for
hammocks. A carpeted, cushioned room is seldom seen, and is out of place
in the tropics. Coaches and gas are supplanting ox-carts and candles.
There are two hotels, but scant accommodations for travelers. Beef is
almost the only meat used; the fish are poor and dear; the oyste