are trifling and few in comparison with those which moral and political circumstances have produced. When the horrors of the conquest were over, the Caribs extirpated, and the bucaneers suppressed, these colonies became the seat of war whenever hostilities occurred between the great European powers; and in addition to this evil, a system of slavery took root there, the mitigation and gradual removal of which is one of the most difficult duties that any legislature has ever had to propose."

Before leaving Martinique we got a sight of St. Pierre on the north-west coast, as I am informed a very handsome town, with a population larger than that of Port Royal.

CHAPTER VI.

ST. THOMAS'S.-JACMEL.

Tuesday, June 2nd.-A pretty strong breeze arose last evening, but I kept my port open all night, nevertheless. We must have passed close to several islands, Dominica, Guadaloupe, Montserrat, and others; but as I saw nothing of them, I shall say nothing about them.

Rain falls heavily all this morning, and the decks are so wet that we are forced to remain below, and I fancy that those experienced in tropical weather are careful of getting wet. The gangway by the fore-hatch is always a resource and a resort under these circumstances; but the sky cleared at mid-day, and at 4 P.M. St. Thomas's was right ahead of us. A ridge of detached rocks, extending in front of the island, has, at a distance, the appearance of a breakwater. After passing it, we noticed a boat upset and four men clinging to the keel. Our engines were instantly

stopped, and the mail-boat ordered to be cleared away; but at that moment the occupants of a little pleasure schooner caught sight of the accident, and, having the wind, bore swiftly down and picked up the men. As sharks abound here, their position was one, perhaps, not altogether desirable.

We hang out our ensign, and hoist the distinguishing pendant, enter the harbour, and anchor in the middle. This is a busy port; several steamers were lying there, and the bunting of many nations was floating on the masts of the merchantmen. The harbour is land-locked, being nearly surrounded by lofty hills rising precipitately, which give it almost the appearance of a lake. The town-not very large, with a population of about 16,000-is crowded along the water's edge with houses of all shapes and sizes, and straggles up three hills at its back. Here and there are some more pretentious mansions standing in the midst of gardens. It has a lively appearance; bright colours predominate. The houses are painted white, the jalousies green, and the shingles of the roofs are dyed red, for the sake of preserving them. The island ori

*Slips of pine-wood, imported generally from North America, used almost universally for roofing throughout the West Indies.

ginally belonged to the Dutch; the town bears a strong resemblance to a Dutch toy, and its temperature to a Dutch oven.

St. Thomas's is one of the group discovered by Columbus in his second voyage, in 1493, on which he bestowed the name of The Virgin Islands, in allusion to the legend in the Romish ritual. It was successively possessed by Dutch and English bucaneers, but they quitted it, and it was ultimately settled by the Danes in 1672. They possess, also, the adjoining islands of St John's and Santa Cruz, their sole possessions in the West Indies; the latter having been purchased of the French for £75,000. The Danish islands were taken by the British in 1801, and again in 1807, and were not restored till 1815. Considering the important station which St. Thomas's now occupies, one is tempted to regret that it was not retained. In 1867 the Government of the United States entered into a negotiation to purchase the island. Denmark was willing to sell, and so were the United States. When the amount of dollars had been agreed upon, greenbacks were found deficient, and "one more repudiation of agreement was noted in Jonathan's accountbook," as I read somewhere. The Danish Government is apparently regardless of æsthetics, and

little seems to be done beyond receiving the revenue, which must be considerable. A taste for flagstaffs prevails extensively, every store seemed to possess one.

Our starboard side facing the town was invested, or rather infested, by shore-boats. Off came the woolly-haired boatmen by scores, in white shirts and trousers, jabbering and pushing in the stems of their boats as though the fate of empires depended on their exertions. Bumboats with vegetables and fruit, lettuces, bananas, and oranges, come alongside; some of these had negresses sitting in the stern-sheets, to superintend the disposal of their wares; for the most part stately-looking dames wearing broad straw hats, or bandana handkerchiefs of bright colours, arranged somewhat as the French poissardes wear them.

We hurried over our dinner, and some of us jumped into a boat, not without a desperate contest as to which one should have the honour of conveying us. Provided with our white umbrellas, for the sun was still exceedingly powerful, we were rowed to the jetty, and I trod for the first time on West Indian ground. We repaired at once to the Moravian book-store. The earlyclosing system prevails here, and the librarian, a minister of that denomination, whom we found