10th .-- What an entrancing country is this Ceylon! The monsoon is upon us, and hinders my journey: indeed, Mr.Eversleigh advises me not to start for some weeks.

He promises to accompany me to the Peak if I can wait, but the suspense is hard to bear.

Meantime I am drinking in the marvels of Colombo.

The quaint names over the shops, the bright dresses of white and red, the priests with their robes of flaming yellow--all these are diverting enough, but words cannot tell of the beauty of the country here.

The roads are all of some strange red soil, and run for miles beneath the most beautiful trees imaginable--bamboos, palms, and others unknown to me, but covered with crimson and yellow blossom.