great
expectations from the manufacture of potass, he made us stay, as we
would be of great service to him in the end, for superintending the
works of that manufacture.

It is now time to give a brief description of Senegal and its environs,
to enable the reader better to appreciate that which I have to say in
the sequel.

Travellers who have written about Africa, have given too magnificent a
picture of that country known by the name of Senegal. Apparently, after
the fatigues of a long and tedious journey, they have been charmed with
the first fresh spot where they could repose. That first impression has
all the force of reality to the superficial observer; but if he remain
any time, the illusion vanishes, and Senegal appears what it really
is--a parched and barren country, destitute of the most necessary
vegetables for the nourishment and preservation of the health of man.

The town of St Louis, which is also called Senegal, because it is the
head-quarters of the French establishments on that coast, is built upon
a small island or a bank of sand, formed in the midst of the river
Senegal, at about two leagues from its mouth. It is two thousand toises
in length, and three hundred in breadth. The native inhabitants of the
country call it Ndar, and Ba-Fing, or Black River, the river which
waters it. The last name corresponds to that of Niger, which ancient
geographers have given to that river.

The population of St Louis is about ten thousand souls, five hundred of
whom are Europeans, two thousand negroes or free mulattoes, and nearly
seven thousand five hundred slaves. There are about one hundred and
fifty houses in St Louis inhabited by Europeans; the remainder consists
of simple squares, or huts of straw, which a slight flame would cause to
vanish in a moment, as well as all the houses of brick which are near
them. The streets are spacious, but not paved. The greater part are so
completely filled with sand, which the winds and hurricanes bring from
the deserts of Sahara, that it is nearly impossible to walk along them
when the winds are blowing. That fine and burning sand so impregnates
the air, that it is inhaled, and swallowed with the food; in short, it
penetrates every thing. The narrow and little frequented streets are
often blocked up. Some of the houses are fine enough; they have but one
story. Some have covered galleries; but in general the roofs are in the
Oriental fashion, in the form of a terrace.

The