mined the coffee tree, with its white blossoms and scarlet berries, and the sago tree, and the elegant cinamon tree, and the camphor tree, and the cotton tree-oh, the beautiful cotton tree! I wish you could see it: it bears large yellow blossoms, which in time produce pods full of a soft, white, downy substance; this substance is collected together and sent to a mill, where, by means of a curious machine, the little seeds are extracted from the cotton, which is afterwards spun and wove into muslin, calico, &c. While I was talking to papa about the cotton tree, Louisa called me to the other side of the conservatory, to look at a pretty pink flower, a little like an iris or flag flower, which had a very sweet smell, and which we found on inquiry was the plant that produces ginger: then there was the Indian-rubber tree, which exudes the gum we call Indian rubber, you know, and the palma-christi, with its fan-like leaves, from which castor-oil is extracted, and the quinquinna tree, from which Peruvian bark is procured, and a great many more of all sorts and descriptions, some of which we admired for their use, some for their sweetness, and some for their rarity, I observed that those which attracted our particular notice were generally natives of Asia and of the East Indies, where, papa says, the climate is so extremely warm, that there are not only a greater variety and number of plants than in almost any other country, but they also grow much more luxuriantly. "Around those shores prolific plenty twines, Stores the thick field, and swells the clustering vines; obliging, and gave me a great number of flowers, among the rest a beautiful kalmia, tuberose, and flame-coloured azalea, which I have been twining into a group on the back of a portfolio, intended for a dear friend of mine. Can you guess whom? My canary sings more sweetly than ever, and the starling has caught its note completely, so we have now a full chorus in the hall from morning to night. I am very anxious to see your little French girl; I trust we shall welcome you to Carwood again in the spring. At all events this delightful hope shall be as a beacon to light me through the winter! I am quite a castle builder, and often form many grand projects in my head which are never likely to be realized; but it is all very well, Isabel says, for they certainly afford present pleasure, and if in the end they should prove so E airy and fragile as for a puff of wind to blow them away, this may teach me to endure disappointments. Adieu, my dear Caroline. Your very affectionate friend. LETTER VIII. EMILY to LOUISA. Malvern, August 20. It is quite time for me to address you again, my dear girl, and to beg that, if you have for a moment attributed my long silence to negligence or forgetfulness, you will immediately discard the thought as totally unworthy of yourself and me. 2 When we got to Southampton it was agreed that our little protégée, Emmy, and myself should leave the rest to make the tour of Monmouthshire, and join my aunt at Malvern. So here we are, en joying the beauties of some of the sweetest scenery in England. We came from Gloucester hither last Monday, and found my dear aunt much better for change of air, indeed the air here is so pure and delightful that it seems to animate one with new life. My cousin Fanny and I are nearly of the same age, and are become very fond of each other. I suppose I need not tell you that Malvern is a small village at the foot of a range of hills of the same name, nor how much we enjoy rambling about on these hills. Fanny and I set out directly after breakfast one morning, intending to "scale the aerial cliffs" till we should reach the summit of the highest hill, which is more than half a mile from our lodgings. After ascending about one hundred and sixty steps, and winding along a zigzag path which is cut on the side of the hill in order to render the ascent less difficult, |