ABSTRACT
April 29th, 1836. In the morning we passed round the northern extremity o f the Isle o f France. From this point o f view the aspect o f the island equalled the expectations raised by the many well-known descrip tions o f its beautiful scenery. The sloping plain o f the Pamplemousses, scattered over with houses, and coloured bright green from the large fields o f sugar-cane, composed the foreground. The brilliancy o f the green was the more remarkable, because it is a colour which generally is only conspicuous from a very short distance. Towards the centre o f the island, groups o f wooded mountains rose out o f this highly-cultivated plain; their summits, as so commonly happens with ancient volcanic rocks, being jagged into the sharpest points. Masses o f white clouds were collected around their pinnacles, as if for the sake o f pleasing the stranger’s eye. The whole island, with its sloping border and central mountains, was adorned with an air o f perfect elegance: the scenery, if I may use such an expression, appeared to the senses harmonious.
