With pleasant breezes and moderate weather, we proceeded on our course, keeping the ship one point from the wind, so that a foretop studding would draw. At day-dawn on the third of May, we discovered Cape Frio, and at ten o’clock, A. M., the Sugar-loaf at the entrance to the harbour of Rio Janeiro. From the time we discovered the cape until the following evening, a most perfect and, to us, annoying calm prevailed. A brisk gale at length sprung up from the southwest, accompanied by thunder, lightning, and rain: so stormy, dark, and tempestuous was the evening, that we only occasionally obtained a glimpse of the fine revolving light on Raza island: at intervals, a vivid flash of lightning would disclose to us the Sugar-loaf mountain and a small twinkling light at Santa Cruz. The bearings of the principal points of land having been obtained, before the evening closed, notwithstanding the war of elements, we dashed onward in fine style under three topsails. As we came abreast Santa Cruz, we were hailed, and answered; but not heaving to, three guns were fired, followed by the burning of as many “blue-lights.” We now proceeded up the harbour, and cast anchor at ten o’clock. The city was saluted the following day, and the salute answered by an equal number of guns. [Sidenote: RIO DE JANEIRO--HARBOUR.] The seacoast from Cape Frio to Rio is remarkable for the boldness of its features, possessing various obtuse peaks and mountains; but southward of the harbour is a remarkable range of hills, presenting a rough profile of a human countenance lying with its face upward. It is formed by a table-mountain and two jagged hills: the resemblance is so striking at the first view that no force of imagination is necessary to complete the picture.