created a kindly feeling in us towards our English brethren. Many years previous to this visit to La Plata, I had resided many months at Buenos Ayres, and had become acquainted with a number of worthy men and lovely females, who then shone with great brilliancy at the Tertulias, in the Bolero and Pas-a-pie, but time had changed the faces and condition of the living--death had been busy among all classes and many a friend and acquaintance had gone to the eternal world, amidst the various revolutions. The splendid churches were shorn of their ornaments and a few solitary priests, superannuated and on the brink of the grave, were seen tottering through the deserted aisles and cloisters, where hundreds had once been, and where the resounding of my own footsteps now made me start, and look back to see if any of the departed had returned to wander within their former haunts, and deplore, though they were wont to be called holy, their numerous imperfections. A regal government has now given place to one of another stamp; but the great number of armed men in the streets and about the public buildings, have divested it of much of its republican character. A Protestant church is now erected, and English names are frequently seen over the doors of buildings where once a foreign merchant was not permitted to dwell. To me, it seemed like traversing a vast sepulchre--so many had closed their eyes in death, while others appeared like spectres of former days. It was like a city once in ruins, but which had been freed of its incumbrances, and was again ushered into light and life, peopled by a new generation. Montevideo also had met with unparalleled sufferings from the time that it was besieged by the British to the present hour. The beautiful cathedral was disfigured by marks of cannon-balls--the walls were partly demolished--the gates broken down--the cannon removed, and not a solitary sentinel was on the lookout from the battlements; the streets were broken up, and full of unsightly and dangerous holes. Death, the all-consuming hand of time, and squalid poverty, had laid a whole city in ruins; it was like a vast cemetery; for all I once knew had been swept away; even their names had been obliterated for ever. I therefore left it, better satisfied to wander ten thousand miles over a trackless and stormy ocean, than to remain in a city whose former inhabitants were spread in dust amid its ruins. CHAPTER II. SAILING FROM MONTEVIDEO--DESCRIPTION OF THE ISLAND OF TRISTAN D’ACUNHA--ST. PAULS--ENGANO--ARRIVAL AT BENCOOLEN AND DESCRIPTION.