It was on New Year’s Day, 1502, that Goncalo Coelho and his crew sailed into this silent bay. Theirs were not the first eyes to behold its wonders, for they found its shores peopled by a wild, savage race, who lived in their rude villages set amongst the fairest of surroundings. The bay was christened by the Portuguese “Rio de Janeiro,” or “River of January.” This name, which is in no way applicable to the bay, which has no river near it, is a matter for some surprise. The investigations of the Portuguese must have been of a very cursory nature, for they do not seem to have remained long enough to grasp the extent of the harbour they had discovered. They named it, however, and the name has stuck, and even the natives of Rio to-day are called “Fluminenses,” after the river that does not exist. The flat ground which winds round the foot of the hills, and upon which the city now stands, was formerly a mangrove swamp, of which nothing remains to-day. The city now covers an area of eight to nine square miles, and has nearly a million inhabitants. For centuries almost, indeed, until the beginning of the present one, the city, although in such beautiful surroundings, was extremely dirty and badly laid out. The streets were mean and shabby, for even the fashionable and prosperous Rua do Ouvidor is a mere alley. During the early part of the last century the city was proverbial for its filthiness, but it [Illustration: THE SUMMIT OF CORCOVADA, RIO.] gradually emerged from its grime and squalor, its streets were paved, and its sanitation improved. But it was not until the beginning of the present century that the Government and people awoke and with a feverish energy set about rebuilding and beautifying their city, until it was transformed out of all recognition. Hundreds of narrow, dirty streets have been pulled down, to make way for the Avenida Central, a long avenue of fine buildings which would grace any of the great cities of the modern world. Many of the worst streets in the city have been swept away, and in their place broad thoroughfares full of fine, if somewhat ornate buildings, have been laid down. To-day there are miles of spacious boulevards and shaded avenues, with well-paved asphalt roads and walks, all lit by electricity. The magnificent Avenida Beira-mar, which runs from the southern end of the Avenida Central to Botofogo, a distance of nearly five miles, has few equals in the world. Along its asphalt track countless motor-cars race at a breakneck speed. Fine residences have been erected along this avenue, the “art nouveau” styles of France and Germany being the most popular. The modern houses in the suburbs of Rio make up in depth what they lack in width, and they have fine suites of rooms tastefully decorated and furnished with the latest fashions. The [Illustration: “THE SILENT BAY.”]