62 TIMEHRI. 
common-place to my readers. There are many things 
that one might mention—such as the curious Creole into- 
nation, with all the emphasis thrown forward instead of 
backward, according to the English tendency—but time 
and space impose their inevitable limitations. Suffice it 
to say, that after the momentary disappointment on 
arrival, of which I have spoken, I found Demerara by no 
means the least agreeable of places to which fortune or 
adventure has conducted me. The first impressions of 
the place are certainly pleasant, and for some months 
after arrival the new comer is apt to congratulate him- 
self daily that he has not yet been carried off by yellow 
fever or yet expired in a swift and horrid death fromthe bite 
of some venomous serpent. Tbe absence of these immi- 
nent risks to life, which live so vividly in the English- 
man’s conceptions of Demerara, is not without its penalty. 
Existence has a certain zest when one knows, or fears, 
that his footsteps are dogged by disease, that poisonous 
reptiles lurk for him in the bath-room, and that desperate — 
men lie in wait round every corner. Take away these 
sources of excitement, leave a man in the normal security 
of a sedentary career, and colonial life necessarily grows 
somewhat monotonous, Lack of interest follows on 
familiarity, and custom soon stales the variety and 
novelty of a new environment. Places gradually appear 
different and less attractive as we know them well, and 
things are not what they seemed in the first flush of new 
acquaintance. Ah, if we could only retain all our first 
impressions, what a goodly world this would appear! 
“It might be thought,” says DAUDET, “‘ that there is some 
colouring matter in a child’s eyes which lasts as long 
as the ignorance of his early glance; but which, as 
