scene, and to confirm the thought that here is the ideal spot, the freest
spot, the spot where dreams may harden into realities, where unvexed
peace may smile.

There is naught to remind of the foetidness, the blare and glare of the
streets. None of

"The weariness, the fever and the fret,
There, where men sit and hear each other groan."

You may follow up the creeks until they become miniature ravines, or
broaden out into pockets with precipitous sides, where twilight reigns
perpetually, and where sweet soft gases are generated by innumerable
plants, and distilled from the warm moist soil. How grateful and
revivifying! Among the half-lit crowded groves might not another Medea
gather enchanted herbs such as "did renew old Aeson."

Past the rocky horn of Brammo Bay, another crescent indents the base of
the hill. Exposed to the north-east breeze, the turmoil of innumerable
gales has torn tons upon tons of coral from the out-lying reef, and cast
up the debris, with tinkling chips and fragments of shells, on the sand
for the sun and the tepid rains to bleach into dazzling whiteness. The
coral drift has swept up among the dull grey rocks and made a ridge
beneath the pendant branches of the trees, as if to establish a contrast
between the sombre tints of the jungle and the blueness of the sea.
Midway along the curve of vegetation a bingum flaunts its mantle--a
single daub of demonstrative colouring. Away to the north stand out the
Barnard Islands, and the island-like headland of Double-Point.

Rocky walls and ledges intersected by narrow clefts in which the sea