the decrease. The greater number of them reside beyond Savana Grande, on the other side of St. Joseph's. Their town I have not yet seen, but I have twice visited St. Joseph's, which was formerly the capital; and what with its church and barracks, and sundry other comfortable appurtenances, is still a passing fine town. It will not, however, bear a comparison with Port of Spain.

I did promise to write you something about education, but really you must excuse me. I was a wild fellow at school, and wilder at college; I have not learned much in the army, and am very little capable of judging about education and morality. I know that there is a school in the town where the French, English, and Castillians go together,

"tria juncta in uno,"

to learn Murray's English Grammar, the New Testament, the Catechism, and the Ten Commandments, and that is all I know of the school. I am however somewhat better acquainted with the tread-mill, where I sent a rascally servant of mine, who stole six dollars from my table drawer; and the next day went to see him foot it on the wheel. I was glad to see him at his work, for he was a lazy fellow, and worthless to boot; he well deserved his punishment, for his crime would have hung an Englishman out and out, albeit an Englishman were worth twenty of him.

I only went once though, for I love not walking, and the streets of Puerto de Espana are intolerably

hot: you have the advantage of us there, St. Vincent is cooler than Trinidad.

And now, Bayley, I have written a long letter, multum in parvo, that is to say, in case thou hast forgotten thy Latin, a great deal in a little space: I never did as much for any friend before, yet I only ask thee to repay me with a short letter, a very short one, for long ones I never read.

Now I am going to a ball, so, my good fellow, adieu.

Yours very sincerely,

W

So, reader, thou art indebted to my friend for a description of Trinidad, after his own wild way; and now I will take thee back to St. Vincent, where there is much novelty to be seen, and much information to be gained.

CHAPTER XXVI.

MISCELLANIES.

"When they have joined their pericranies
"Out skips a book of miscellanies."

Swift.

DID I not promise thee, sweet reader, a description of some of my excursions with the worthy manager of Sion Hill, and did I ever fail in my promises, when their fulfilment could tend to thy instruction or amusement?-never-neither shall I fail now.

friend W's

The day on which I received my friend W letter had been fixed for a ride to the Vigie, Mount Young, and Owia, places which I had seen before, but never examined with sufficient minuteness to give a detailed description of them. A circumstance happening however on the estate which demanded the manager's attention, he was deterred from going, and we therefore deferred our intended excursion to the following morning.

In the mean time I had an invitation to a ball, which was to take place at Government House in the evening, and I determined to amuse myself during the day with taking a trip to the Botanic Garden.

Accordingly, on leaving the post-office, I galloped up the bay, and crossing the market-place passed into the back street. It was market-day, and the confused

scene that presented itself was by no means unworthy of notice. The market-place at St. Vincent is a square piece of ground, of tolerable dimensions, crossed on the right by a long avenue of trees, beneath which the militia sometimes assemble before marching to the parade ground. There are also a few larger trees scattered here and there on the open space, under whose shade the negroes sit to vend their articles. There is a butcher's stall too at the corner, where the meat is killed and sold to the town customers. The market-place is however seldom so much crowded as on Sunday morning, when all the negroes flock in from the estates with fruits, and vegetables, and poultry.

It is then a truly amusing scene:-the clatter of tongues, in a medley negro language, half French, half English, is tremendous and overpowering; but far more overpowering is it, I trow, to the olfactory nerves of any sensitive personage to inhale the stifling odour of salt fish that rises on all sides, tainting and polluting the air around, on a crowded market-day.

The unceasing din and clatter of a woman's tongue one may listen to, there is something natural in that; but to be obliged to inhale such a sickening and disgusting vapour, verily it is enough to shake the nerves of the strongest man in Christendom.

Setting this smell aside, however, truly it is a right comfortable and delightful thing to see so much happiness on so small a space of ground. They were all slaves, and yet they were all laughing. Every one seemed pleased with himself, and discontent was not

depicted on a single face. If discord now and then appeared, it was only between two husbands, jealous of their wives, or two wives jealous of their husbands. All were certain of turning their little commerce to account, and all were happy in the certainty. I was astonished to see the self-satisfaction with which a young negro girl deposited two dollars and a half in the corner of her handkerchief, and rising from her seat set off on her return to the estate, bearing on her head the empty tray which she had brought to town, a few hours before, laden with a young pig, poultry, and vegetables.

I passed the market, and on my way through the town encountered Captain F, who said he was taking a ride because he had nothing better to do. I told him where I was going, and he proposed accompanying me. We turned out of the back street a little way above the church, and rode for some time along the most detestable of all detestable roads; at every five paces our horses were knee-deep in the mud, and God knows how we arrived at the entrance of the garden. However we did so at last, and now "nous allons voir les choses."

The Botanic Garden of St. Vincent is about half a mile from Kingstown. At its entrance formerly stood the residence of the gentleman in charge of the garden, which was in a most rich and flourishing condition, under the superintendance of a Mr. Anderson. Since the death of this gentleman it has fallen off gradually, and is at present going to ruin. The only improvement that has taken place is the destruction of the manager's house, and the erection, by the