rendered it unworthy of its former distinction, the building was no longer kept in repair, and was now almost in ruins. The island of Itamaraca, which is in length about three leagues, and in breadth about two, is situated at the distance of eight leagues to the northward of Recife, and is entirely separated from the main land by a channel of unequal width, varying from one league to half a mile. The island does not contain any stream of water, but in the neighbourhood of the town water gushes from the hill wherever it is dug for. That which is obtained from the springs in the neighbourhood of Pillar, is not however good. Itamaraca is, perhaps, the most populous part of the province of Pernambuco, taken as a whole, the immediate vicinity of Recife excepted. It contains three sugar mills, which are well stocked with negroes; and many free persons likewise reside upon the lands belonging to them[100]. Besides the lands attached to these works, there are other considerable tracks which are subdivided among and owned by a great number of persons of small property. The shores of the island are planted with coco-trees, among which are thickly scattered the straw cottages of fishermen; and oftentimes are to be seen respectable white-washed dwellings, which are possessed by persons whose way of life is frugal, and yet easy. The salt-works upon the island are likewise one great source of its wealth; these are formed upon the sands which are overflowed by the tide at high water. The long village of Pillar, situated upon the eastern side of the island, is at the present day the principal settlement, although that which is called the town of Conception, where I now resided, standing upon the S.E. side of the island, claims seniority, but its better times are gone by; its situation was considered inconvenient, others are at present preferred; and if the parish church did not stand here, and render necessary the presence of the vicar, the place would shortly be deserted. It has now a desolate neglected appearance, an unpleasant stillness, producing sensations of a very different description from those which are excited by the quietude of a place that has never witnessed busier scenes. Its site is the summit of the S.E. point of a high hill, which rises almost immediately from the water’s edge. The square, in which are situated the parish-church,—my new residence,—the vicarage, a low, long, white-washed building,—and about fifteen cottages, is very spacious; but large pieces of ground now remain unoccupied; the houses which stood upon them have been removed, or have been allowed to decay and fall, giving room to banana and tobacco gardens. The centre of the square was covered with brushwood, and a narrow path went along the four sides of it immediately in front of the houses, which afforded to the inhabitants the means of communicating with each other. There is one street branching from it and leading down towards the creek, over which I