ANTIGUA.

THE Eden was under weigh at two p. m., on

the 3d of June.

We ran back the same course to

leeward of St. Martin's and St. Bartholomew's, and beat out to windward of St. Eustatius with the wind E.S.E. It was hard work the whole way to English Harbour, where we arrived on Monday evening the 6th a little before sunset. We should not have managed the matter as it was, if we had not carried on in spite of a succession of sharp squalls which made our royal masts bend like weeping willows. The entrance is exceedingly narrow, and every preparation was made to moor the ship in the event of the wind baffling her. An attempt to tack would infallibly run a vessel ashore. However we glided in gently to our birth between the two quays of the dockyard, and fastened the ship by hawsers to rings on the shore on either side.

This is without exception the prettiest little harbour I ever saw; the extreme neatness of the

docks, the busy village which has grown up in their vicinity, the range of hills of various shapes and colors which encircle the inland sides, and the rocky Ridge which frowns over the mouth with its Union and cannons and ramparts, present such a combination of tropical beauty and English style and spirit as I never saw elsewhere in the West Indies. The harbour is said to be unhealthy, and from its inclosed situation such a circumstance seems probable; at the same time I have not heard of any instance in which the crews of ships have materially suffered during their stay there. Indeed it is a season of great merriment with them; they live on shore, and after their regular dock labor, dance and sing all the evening to their own abundant content. The officers have a large and commodious barrack to themselves, and in most cases find it a very agreeable place of relaxation from the wretched confinement on board ship in this perspiring climate. St. John's, the capital of Antigua, lies on the opposite side of the island, and this distance, which is perhaps a little annoying to the more urban part of the lieutenants and midshipmen, is an excellent quality in the harbour with regard to the common sailors. There is a devil in the West Indies called New Rum*, which

* Kill-Devil, Ligon calls it.

has killed almost as many stout tars as the French have, and he looks so like an angel of light in Jack's eyes, that it is not in the poor fellow's heart to refuse him any thing.

I was very pleasantly surprised with the look of the country. Antigua is so generally spoken of as a dry and adust place where the earth refuses to yield water for the use of man, that I received more than ordinary pleasure in gazing on the gentle wooded hills and green meadow vales which decorate the interior of the island. Antigua on a larger scale is formed like Anguilla, that is, without any central eminences, but for the most part ramparted around by very magnificent cliffs, which slope inwards in gradual declivities. From some of these rocks, especially near the parsonage of St. Philip's parish, one of the finest panoramic views in the world may be obtained. The whole island, which is of a rough circular figure, lies in sight; the grand fortifications on the Ridge and Monk's Hill silently menace the subject fields; St. John's rises distinctly with its church on the north-western horizon, whilst the woods which cover the sides and crest the summit of Figtree Hill just break the continuity of sea in the south-west. The heart of the island is verdant with an abundant pasturage or grassy down, and the numerous houses of the

planters, embosomed in trees, have more of the appearance of country mansions in England than almost any other in the West Indies. The shores are indented in every direction with creeks and bays and coves, some of them running into the centre of the plantations like canals, some swelling into estuaries, and others forming spacious harbours. Beyond these, an infinite variety of islands and islets stud the bosom of the blue sea, and stand out like so many advanced posts of defence against the invading waves. They are of all shapes and sizes, and are given up to the rearing of provisions and the maintenance of a great number of cattle. From the same hill when the western sky is clear, Guadaloupe, Montserrat, Nevis and St. Kitt's may all be distinguished by the naked eye.

The tortuous descent of Figtree Hill, though not so rich and imposing as the mountains and vallies of Trinidad, is yet a landscape so exquisitely beautiful that no painter or poet, who had once seen it, could ever forget the sight. A prodigious number of forest trees grow on the tops and declivities of the cliffs, and luxuriant festoons and knots and nets of evergreen creepers connect them all together in one great tracery of leaves and branches. The wild pine sparkled on the large

limbs of the wayside trees; the dagger-like *Spanish needle, the quilled +pimploe and the ‡ maypole aloe shooting upwards to twenty feet with its yellow flowering crown on high formed an impenetrable mass of vegetation around the road, and seemed fixed on purpose there to defend the matchless purple-wreaths or lilac jessamines, which softened the dark foliage amongst which they hung, from being plucked by the hand of the admiring traveller. Meanwhile a vigorous song of birds arose, and made the silent defile ring with the clear morning sound of European warblers, in the midst of which and ever and anon some unseen single creature uttered a long-drawn quivering note, which struck upon my ear with the richness and the melancholy of a human voice. Many persons have remarked the extraordinary tones of this bird, but I could not learn any name for it. It is the lovelorn nightingale of a silent tropic noon.

Antigua depends generally for its water upon the rain collected in tanks, and those who have been long accustomed to the insipidity of this beverage can with great difficulty reconcile themselves to the rough vivacity produced by the earthy particles in common pump water. It is however a * Bidens pilosa.

+ Cactus tuna.

Agave Americana.