ver beauty. Full twenty miles across it is, and
everywhere surrounded by the grandest hills imaginable. Not even in our
dreams could we have conceived of such a noble harbour, for here not only
could all the fleets in the world lie snug, but even cruise and manoeuvre.
Away to the west lay the picturesque town itself, its houses and public
buildings shining clear in the morning sun, those nearest nestling in a
beauty of tropical foliage I have never seen surpassed.

My brothers and I felt burning to land at once, but regulations must be
carried out, and before we had cleared the customs, and got a clean bill
of health, the day was far spent. Our picnic must be deferred till
to-morrow.

However, we could land.

As they took their seats in the boat and she was rowed shoreward, I
noticed that Donald and Dugald seemed both speechless with delight and
admiration; as for me, I felt as if suddenly transported to a new world.
And such a world--beauty and loveliness everywhere around us! How should I
ever be able to describe it, I kept wondering--how give dear old mother
and Flora any notion, even the most remote, of the delight instilled into
our souls by all we saw and felt in this strange, strange land! Without
doubt, the beauty of our surroundings constitutes one great factor in our
happiness, wherever we are.

When we landed--indeed, before we landed--while the boat was still
skimming over the purple waters, the green mountains appearing to mingle
and change places every moment as we were borne along, I felt conquered,
if I may so express it, by the enchantment of my situation. I gave in my
allegiance to the spirit of the scene, I abandoned all thoughts of being
able to describe anything, I abandoned myself to enjoyment. _Laisser
faire_, I said to my soul, is to live. Every creature, every being here
seems happy. To partake of the _dolce far niente_ appears the whole aim
and object of their lives.

And so I stepped on shore, regretting somewhat that Flora was not here,
feeling how utterly impossible it would be to write that 'good letter'
home descriptive of this wondrous medley of tropical life and loveliness,
but somewhat reckless withal, and filled with a determination to give full
rein to my sense of pleasure. I could not help wondering, however, if
everything I saw was real. Was I in a dream, from which I should presently
be rudely awakened by the rattle and clatter of the men hauling up ashes,
and find myself in b