Years of patient industry and toil, chequered by many disappointments, may eventually reward the proprietor; but it will be at a time of life when a long residence in the tropics will have given him a distaste for the chilly atmosphere of old England; his early friends will have been scattered abroad, and he will meet few faces to welcome him on his native shores.

What cold is so severe as a cold reception ?--no thermometer can mark the degree.

No fortune, however large, can compensate for the loss of home, and friends, and early associations.
This feeling is peculiarly strong throughout the British nation.

You cannot convince an English settler that he will be abroad for an indefinite number of years; the idea would be equivalent to transportation: he consoles himself with the hope that something will turn up to alter the apparent certainty of his exile; and in this hope, with his mind ever fixed upon his return, he does nothing for posterity in the colony.

He rarely even plants a fruit tree, hoping that his stay will not allow him to gather from it.