Joaquin Maria Machado de Assis, one of our great novelists, grew tired of showing foreign acquaintances around Rio de Janeiro, his much loved home city. In fact, he despised the outings. He wanted visitors, foreigners in particular, to recognize his birthplace as the South American Paris, a place of culture, refinement, and progress, not a mere human enclave ensconced in an overpowering, flowered jungle. Invariably, however, his guests were so enchanted by nature, by the bay, the peaks, and the forests, they failed to see what man had done. On one occasion, a European guest asked to be shown something old and beautiful, so with some hope, Machado de Assis accompanied him to the top of Castelo hill to see the ancient church and former cathedral.