face? It seemed as though
the land of my birth--my mother country--was to bring me nothing but
sorrow. In searching to place my capital, and remembering that you
should not have all your eggs in one basket, I invested some of it in
certain bank shares. It was a flourishing concern, paying a steady nine
per cent. That it should be unlimited was a matter of no importance. So
prosperous a company could never fail. Yet, senor, in less than a year,
fail it did for an amount which swept away every penny of my fortune,
and left me stranded high and dry on the shores of adversity.

"This time my ruin was more complete than before, for I was getting old
and could not begin life afresh. Yet--perhaps for that very reason--I
felt it less, and bore it philosophically. I had brought no one down in
my reverses. There was no one to upbraid me, and more than ever I felt
thankful that I had never married again. I obtained a situation in the
Post Office of a light description, which would just enable me to live.
Three years ago, a small windfall came to me: a sum of money that,
safely invested, assures me comfortable bread and cheese for the
remainder of my days. No more flourishing banks with unlimited
liabilities. And now here I am, in daily charge of the mail-bags between
Monistrol and Montserrat. A humble office you will say, but not ignoble.
After the free life of Ceylon, with all its magnificent scenery, I felt
it impossible to live shut up in a town, and especially requested this
post might be given me. In the midst of this wild grandeur, which really
somehow reminds me of parts of Ceylon, I am happy and contented. Bricks
and mortar are my abomination; they weigh upon one's soul and crush out
one's vital power. I love to breathe the morning air with the lark. At
best I can live but a few years more, and I will not spend them in
regretting the past. On the whole, I consider that I am rather to be
envied than pitied. That I am no longer obliged to work for my bread
gives an additional zest to my occupation.--We are approaching
Montserrat. Is it not a sublime scene?"

It was indeed nothing less. We rose above the vast magnificent valley,
until at last it looked dream-like and intangible. We seemed to overhang
bottomless precipices. On a plateau of the great mountain reposed the
monastery and its dependencies. Luxuriant gardens flourished, paradise
of the monks--a strange contrast of barren rocks and rich verdure. Here
dwelt a wonderf