a plantation of upwards of a thousand acres of
coffee-trees in full bearing, fenced in by hedges of roses. Nothing
could be more beautiful than the view from the estate, embracing, as it
did, mountains, forests, rivers, cataracts, and plains, seen from a
height of nearly 4000 feet above the level of the sea. But a few years
ago, about 1845, this very spot was covered with dark forests, wild as
left by the hand of Nature. Nowell and I agreed that we should be
perfectly ready to turn coffee planters, and settle down here for the
remainder of our lives. Mr Fordyce laughed at our notion.

"Till you got tired of your own society, and then you would be heartily
sick of coffee-trees and the magnificent scenery which surrounds us," he
observed.

He was right; at the same time, I believe a man with a family round him,
who understands the nature of the cultivation and the language of the
people, and combines with it the earnest desire to improve their moral
condition, and to spread the truths of Christianity among them, would be
able to pass his life in a very satisfactory and profitable way. The
great secret of happiness in all such positions is the consciousness
that we are benefiting our fellow-creatures who surround us. A coffee
plantation put me something in mind of a grove of laurels. The leaves
are as polished and bright as those of a laurel, but of a darker green.
They bloom in the most rapid way, and the flowers are succeeded as
quickly by the bunches of berries which soon turn crimson, and are not
unlike a cherry in size and colour. The flowers are of snowy whiteness,
and grow in tufts along the upper part of the branches. On looking out
in the morning I have seen all the trees covered with bloom, looking as
if a snow storm had fallen in the night, while the perfume they emitted
of a strong jessamine odour was almost oppressive. Within the crimson
pulp lies a sheath, which encloses the double seed. This is by various
processes freed from its coverings, and the berry we use in England is
the result.

Neura-Ellia was reached at last. It is a grassy plain 6222 feet above
the level of the sea, and yet surrounded by mountains, some on the north
side being 2000 feet higher still. The village, with its pleasant
bungalows, stands in the midst of it, with bright streams flowing by
grassy fields, and hills covered with the most luxuriant vegetation.
Here the air is cool and bracing--a breeze ever blowing, hoar-fros