9th.—As we sailed out of the bay, we amused ourselves with conjecturing the possible situation of Robinson Crusoe's plantation in the bay of All Saints. Those who had been at Cachoeira chose that it should be in that direction; while such as had been confined to the neighbourhood of the city pitched on different sitios, all or any of which might have answered the purpose. There is a charm in Defoe's works that one hardly finds, excepting in the Pilgrim's Progress. The language is so homely, that one is not aware of the poetical cast of the thoughts; and both together form such a reality, that the parable and the romance alike remain fixed on the mind like truth. And what is truth? Surely not the mere outward acts of vulgar life; but rather the moral and intellectual perceptions by which our judgment, and actions, and motives, are directed. Then, are the wanderings of Christiana and Mercy, and the sufferings of the shipwrecked mariner, true in the right sense of the word truth? True as the lofty creations of Milton, and the embodied visions of Michael Angelo; because they have their basis and their home in the heart, and soul, and understanding of man.
But we are once more upon the ocean, and our young people are again observing the stars, and measuring the distances of the planets. I grieve that one of the most promising of them is now an inmate in my cabin, in a very delicate state of health.
12th.—Yesterday we found soundings, which indicated the neighbourhood of the Abrolhos, and lay-to all night, that we might ascertain the exact position of those dangerous shoals; which, at the distance of three leagues, bearing N. W. by W., appeared like one long ragged island to the westward, and two smaller very low to the east.
The banks extend very far out to the eastward. There is a deep passage between them and the mainland. With a little attention, a most profitable fishery might be established here.
Rio de Janeiro, Saturday, December 15th, 1821.—Nothing that I have ever seen is comparable in beauty to this bay. Naples, the Firth of Forth, Bombay harbour, and Trincomalee, each of which I thought perfect in their beauty, all must yield to this, which surpasses each in its different way. Lofty mountains, rocks of clustered columns, luxuriant wood, bright flowery islands, green banks, all mixed with white buildings; each little eminence crowned with its church or fort; ships at anchor or in motion; and innumerable boats flitting about in such a delicious climate,—combine to render Rio de Janeiro the most enchanting scene that imagination can conceive. We anchored first close to a small island, called Villegagnon, about two miles from the entrance of the harbour. That island, however small, was the site of the first colony founded by the Frenchman Villegagnon, under the patronage of Coligny, whom he betrayed. The admiral had intended it as a refuge for the persecuted Hugonots; but when Villegagnon had, by his means, formed the settlement, he began to persecute them also: the colony fell into decay, and became an easy conquest to Mem de Sa, the Portuguese captain-general of Brazil.[77]
We moved from this station to one more commodious nearer the town, and higher up the harbour, towards the afternoon, which soon became so rainy, that I gave up all hopes of getting ashore. I was really disappointed to find that my excellent friend, the Hon. Capt. S. had left the station with his frigate before we arrived; I had, however, the pleasure of receiving a kind letter from him, and he had left me a copy of the great Spanish dictionary. Nobody that has always lived at home, can tell the value of a kindness like this in a foreign land.