wise, have been labouring on his behalf, and he has only to get into a boat and be rowed ashore to find that, except for the inevitable wonder at the strangeness of all surrounding scenes, his ways are ways of pleasantness and all his paths are peace. Comparatively so, of course.

The tourist in quest of strange scenes, of utter change, whose purse does not permit such a costly journey as that to the Far East, may find, will find, in these, our West Indian possessions, sufficient of marvel, of mystery, and of utter difference from anything to which he has hitherto been accustomed to compensate him for not being able to go farther afield. Thirty years ago, when I first landed at the carenage (canash') of Barbados I was utterly bewildered by the amount of animation exhibited by the people, by the strangeness of everything around me, and by the all-embracing heat. The latter, indeed, as compared with what is felt on board the ship, is at first rather alarming to the novice in the tropics. But there is really no reason for alarm, as I soon found, or even discomfort, if only the commonest precautions suggested by prudence be observed. I have seen on this cruise a young man go ashore in Barbados in an ordinary suit of dittoes and a cloth cap. When I met him he was almost in a state of collapse through the heat, and actually wondered why. One would have thought that his personal sensations would have been sufficient to warn him from so foolish a course. To the ordinary person, however, who has summer clothes the weather presents no terrors, and by taking things quietly little or no inconvenience is felt.

To the student of history, above all, Barbados should be intensely interesting. Driving along its beautiful roads and enjoying the splendour of the vegetation, especially the gorgeousness of the flowers, one cannot help but think of the white slaves to whom I alluded in the outset of this article; must recall with feelings of utter horror the cruelty that doomed men and women of our own race to be sold like beasts and used worse than beasts in this tropical clime. One is continually bound to wonder whether even under the lash the negro and white slaves worked as do the freemen of to-day. I have just met an antiquated-looking truck, laden with a hogshead of sugar, the net weight of which is always about a ton. This truck, heavy and cumbrous enough in itself to be a fairly awkward drag in roughly paved streets like these, is, with its immense burden, being dragged along by two negroes, a third manipulating a pair of shafts for steering in the rear. I am rather

at a loss how to characterise their labour, for fear of being accused of exaggeration, but, really, under a northern sky I should call it terrific, to myself. In conveying cargo off to the ships also a most clumsy but immensely strong lighter, capable of taking some twenty tons, is used. Now, during the most of the year the northeast trade winds blow into Carlisle Bay with almost the force of a gale throughout the day, yet these huge boats are rowed off by four or five men working twenty-foot scaffold poles flattened at the ends. To row a mile like that against a heavy wind and sea is a task that seems impossible of performance, yet it is daily done and nobody is surprised. But to see the muscular effort put forth by these negroes from the time they leave the carenage, or river, until they arrive at the ship should inspire a wholesome respect, not merely for their strength, but for their powers of endurance and obvious willingness to put those powers to the proof. There is certainly nothing of the 'lazy nigger' about them.

In fact, I discover in this extreme capacity for the hardest work and cheapness of labour a most patent reason for the backwardness of some West Indian islands, notably Barbados, in the struggle for existence. Ancient, cumbrous, and lengthy methods are still used for the two reasons given in the beginning of this paragraph. There is also a third, which, whether advanced by prudential or philanthropic motives, is equally praiseworthy. It is that work, and consequently food, must be found for the teeming population, and if a sudden influx of capital were to result in the displacement of the human labour by the introduction of machinery, some very serious social complications would be certain to ensue. Things would adjust themselves in time, no doubt, but during that time there is equally no doubt that distress and disturbance would assume alarming proportions.

I know of no place in the world, certainly not even in the Southern States of America, where the curious spectacle of white and black people, equally native to the soil, equally acclimatised, and in perfect accord with each other, may be seen as here. In the absence of any direct statistics I must assume that many of the whites are descendants of English slaves sent over here under the infamous old system in vogue two hundred years ago. Some must, of course, be descendants of planters who have come down, in a double sense, to the social status of the field negro. But by some peculiar latent pride of race these poor whites, at least a very large number of them, have absolutely refused to miscegenate.

One look at them is sufficient to show that no African blood has ever mingled with theirs, and though burnt a lively red by exposure to the sun, their hair, features, and eyes are perfectly and entirely British; while those of the women who have been able to shade themselves a little would but for the curious 'Badian dialect pass muster in any English town as English. This, too, is in face of the fact that in many negro families of five or six children, with an absolutely black mother and pseudo-father, there will be as many shades of colour as there are children.

Bearing the fact in mind that Barbados was practically the last discovered of all the West Indian Islands, or Caribbean Islands, as I should prefer to call them rather than help to perpetuate the old misconception, there is, or should be, something fascinating in the consideration of its progress and in the contemplation of its cultivation. The tourist who arrives here will certainly, if he be wise, expend little precious time during the day in roaming the crowded, hot, and dusty streets of Bridgetown, but either by light railway or carriage get out into the country, where he will find much to interest, amuse, and instruct him, and, what is also of great consequence, excellent accommodation in a few comfortable hotels. Of course, for the tourist who expects to be 'Cooked ' (no pun intended) disappointment is waiting, and such persons will usually be found lounging in long chairs on the front verandah of the nearest hotel, looking inexpressibly bored and apparently wondering why they came. Yet even they are unconsciously receiving much benefit from the warm air and strong life-giving breezes of this most healthful little island, the outpost of all the Caribbees, and from its geographical position the most perfectly aërated of them. Those who intend to obtain all the mental and physical good that such a wonderful trip as this can do them will never be at a loss for objects of interest and pleasure, for even driving along the roads one can study the domestic life of the people can note how, with a little cabin the size of an omnibus, propped up on a few blocks of coral from the damp of the ground, the proprietor manages to run quite an estate, having a patch of garden ground, a pig or two, some goats, fowls and ducks, and even sometimes soaring to the possession of a calf and a well-groomed little donkey.

Into the much-vexed arena of politics I do not propose to enter. It does not commend itself to me as a profitable study in such a sketch as I intend this to be. But I should be entirely

false to my own convictions if I failed to point out how much evil has been done to Barbados in the past by the neglect and utter ignorance of successive home Governments, and, in spite of all the hard things that have been said about her planters and so forth, she has managed to hold her own against the utterly unscrupulous attempts, of Germany especially, to destroy her trade. But America also intends her no good unless she will transfer her affections to the United States, which is unlikely, and if effected would be of doubtful benefit to her. Also, I must say that I feel grieved to see how deeply the splendid services of the Royal Mail Company in the past have been ignored, and pariah steamers of foreign origin, of perfectly loathsome condition, and run at about one-tenth of the expense per ton of this company, are allowed to come in and carry off the cargo from under the very bows of the mail ships. The competition is so entirely one-sided. These mail ships are well-kept, well-manned, and well-officered. In the inter-island vessel in which I am at present writing, of 1,300 tons register, there are a captain and four officers, a chief engineer and four juniors, a doctor, a purser, a chief steward, and at least fifty hands. And there is not one too many for the work to be done, for on the interisland passage northward from Barbados neither captain nor officers can reckon on a full watch's sleep, so rapid and arduous is the service, while its punctuality is to be implicitly relied upon. To think that this splendid service is often run without profit or gratitude makes me feel very sad.

But let us return to our consideration of Barbados itself. The first thing, I think, that strikes an observant visitor is the curious variety of negro dialects. They are enough to drive a precisian in language imbecile. For, not content with inflexions and intonations copious enough to turn a Chinese green with envy, every rule of grammar is systematically inverted, and the quaint mélange of speech is delivered at hurricane speed, making this pseudo-English quite as unintelligible as Sanscrit. I earnestly trust that no one will ever attempt to write a book in any current West Indian dialect of English. It would, I feel sure, be absolutely unreadable; besides, the accents and tone-values are impossible of reproduction in print. Without attempting to perform the impossible I should like to quote just one sentence I caught from our carriage one day: 'How yeu doan go down dese road an fotch dem watter like yeu ben beg for long pass.' In fairness to the negroes it must be said that when speaking to 'fresh people,' as they term the

English visitors, they modify this terrible jargon greatly, so that it does become possible to understand them by listening very carefully; while the better class of coloured folks speak quite a pure English, albeit with a strange singing accent.

There were many points of interest in this beautiful island that claimed attention. First of all a visit to Codrington College, that wonderful monument reared by old Sir Christopher Codrington, which has supplied so many earnest and godly ministers to the West Indies. The journey thither from Bridgetown is made by carriage, and is about fifteen miles as near as I can rememberrather a long distance for two horses if, as usual, the return journey is to be made shortly after arrival. So, as the merciful man is merciful to his beast, I should advise a trip to the Crane Hotel and the engaging there of another carriage from the courteous landlord. Indeed, the point of Barbados upon which the Crane Hotel is built is well worth a visit of itself, and if the visitor is vigorous he may enjoy a bathe in the roaring surf from the hotel bath-house that will long linger in his memory. And he will find his creature comforts very well attended to into the bargain.

From thence to the College is a beautiful drive of about six miles. The approach to the fine old building is through a magnificent avenue of those amazingly artificial-looking trees, the palmiste palms. I have repeatedly been assured that they have no commercial value; but I do not believe that there is another tree in the whole vegetable kingdom that can so simulate an artificial production as does this one. A beautiful curved column of rough, or rather of roughened wood, since the corrugations are not extensive, and at a little distance are hardly discernible, springs from the ground almost like the bulb of a hyacinth in a vase. According to the age of the tree this rough column rises a number of feet into the air, and suddenly terminates in a shaft of smooth, pure green. This shaft, looking like polished jade, rises from four to ten feet farther, and terminates in a plume of feathery leaves whose midribs are sometimes twenty feet long, while the sidespreading greenery is from six inches to thirty-six. But at the time of budding there appears at the junction of the rough bark and the green column a series of green clubs, which contain the flowers. These clubs project upwards all around the trunk, and when they are ripe burst and exhibit the inflorescence-I cannot say the flower, since there is no blossom, only something like an exaggerated gross seed-spathe. These palms in the approach to Codrington