a date of 340 years, can possess no other than very modern antiquities; but few even of these are to be found in Jamaica. Kingston was only built after the destruction of Port-Royal 142 years ago; consequently, no Spanish remains are to be found here, and, indeed, there are very few in any part of the island. Perhaps the objects of most interest, and of the greatest antiquity at present to be sought after, are the tombs and remains of the habitations of some of those republicans who took an active part in the downfal of the unfortunate Charles, and who fled here at the time of the Restoration. At that period, vast numbers of the proscribed republicans took refuge in Jamaica; and there is no doubt the spirit of liberty, the impatience of all control exercised by the authority of the mother country, and even the turbulent independence which has influenced the character of the colonial legislature, are to be attributed to the principles which the early republicans carried with them to this island. Among the partisans of Cromwell who fled here at his death, there were several of the regicides: Wait and Blagrove, two of the King's judges; the children of General Harrison; the son of Scott, from whose daughter the great proprietor Beckford was descended: the son of the President Bradshaw was also among the number of the republican settlers, but he appears to have arrived here prior to Cromwell's death. Colonel Humphrey, whose father had borne the sword before Bradshaw at the trial of the King, held a high military command here.

Of persons who have signalized themselves in more peaceable pursuits, the names of very few are associated with colonial recollections. Kingston has been the residence of about half a dozen persons who subsequently distinguished themselves in literature and science: Smollett, Walcott, Lewis, Long, Brown, and Edwards, have been residents of Jamaica at different periods, and some of them sojourners at Kingston. But I ought not to omit, among its literary visitants, the talented author of the "Life of a Sailor;" nor the able author of "Tom

Cringle" among its former residents, who has not chosen to divulge his name, and which I shall not presume to do, though it is tolerably well known to this community, and very generally respected by it; but in stating that he is neither an Englishman nor an Irishman, a sailor nor a soldier, I trust I am only lifting a very little corner of the veil of his mystery.*

The house in which Smollett lodged in Kingston is still in existence in Harbour Street, and is now occu

* If Tom were now to visit Jamaica, it would grieve his kind heart (for that he is a kind-hearted man, every reader of his must be persuaded) to find how few of those of his hospitable companions, whom he has made his heroes, are now in existence,-and how few of those who remain are in the prosperous circumstances in which he left them. The judge who never went to dinner without his ice-saw, has been gathered to his fathers; but "the one-handed Scotchman," who surmounted the objection to his costume at the door of the ball-room by converting his long trousers into knee-breeches, without the aid of his tailor, is still as vigorous and as genuinely Scotch as ever.

Eschylus Stave still flourishes in Kingston, and time has not impaired his powers of elocution: the gentleman who broke his arm in the exploits after dinner, is sobered down to a quiet convivialist, the best-humoured man that ever was incurably argumentative. Old Steady in the west is just as imperturbable in the serenity of his nature, as the day he was burned out of the ship that was conveying him to Kingston; while the facetious Aaron Bang, at one time the Mercutio, and, at another, the Tristram Shandy of the novel, has merged into an elderly gentleman, the mercurialism of whose character is hardly to be recognised in the demure tranquillity of a pains-taking attorney.

But the hand of time does not travel over the dial of human nature for a period of a dozen years, without affecting the elasticity of the spring which sets its machinery in motion; and that period has elapsed since the buoyant spirits of the planter of St. Thomas in the Vale furnished materials for the description of Aaron Bang's whimsicalities. It is not every Yorick, however, like Aaron Bang, who has been "a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy,"-whose jibes, and gambols, and flashes of merriment "were wont to set the table in a roar,"-who becomes estimable for his worth, when he has ceased to be remarkable for his jocularity.

pied by a tailor, next door to Mr. Threadway's. I am told by that gentleman's nephew, that an old negro woman, who had lived in the house a very long time, and has been dead only a few years, remembered Smollett. She must have been of a very great age, for it is upwards of eighty years ago since Smollett was in Jamaica. He served as a cabin-boy in 1743, at the action of Porto Cavallo, under Admiral Knowles,-the same person who afterwards become Governor of Jamaica, in 1751. Smollett was subsequently made surgeon's-mate, and must have been, for a considerable time, on the West India station. Knowles returned to England in 1756, and shortly afterwards prosecuted Smollett for a libel; for which offence he was fined, and imprisoned in the Marshalsea.

A house nearly opposite that in which Smollett resided, I am informed, was the residence, for a short time, of Dr. Wolcott, the celebrated Peter Pindar. Wolcott was brought up to the medical profession, under a country apothecary. In 1767, he accompanied Sir William Trelawney, the newly appointed Governor, to Jamaica, as medical attendant: in a short time, however, he changed the medical for the clerical profession, and officiated in his new calling for some time in the parish of Vere. Wolcott was not in orders when he left England, nor did he return to England to be ordained, previously to procuring his clerical appointment. There was no bishop at that period in the West Indies; and how he became qualified for the clerical profession, I do not know. But he did not long remain in Jamaica; and it appears his ministry was not satisfactory to his parishioners.

There is a Spanish lady now living here,-a Madame Emanuele, the wife, or, at least, the companion, of Bolivar, in all his latter fortunes. This lady is now of middle age, commanding in her person, of considerable intellectual powers, and of an undaunted spirit. She is the Lady Hr S- e of this country: her saloon is decorated with swords and pistols of various fashions;

and she has even done some good service with them. At Bolivar's death she was exiled from the country, so great were the fears of her influence over the people. She lives here in almost total seclusion;-few, if any, Englishmen know that there is such a person sojourning in Kingston. On several occasions, the intrepidity and presence of mind of Madame Emanuele rescued Bolivar from situations of the most imminent hazard.

In the last revolutionary conspiracies against the life of this great man at Bogota, he owed his preservation entirely to her. He had retired one night to rest earlier than usual: Madame Emanuele heard some noise under the windows, the report of fire-arms, and, shortly after, cries of " Muerto al tiranno! Muerto al tiranno!" She immediately apprized Bolivar of his danger; and, to prevent his getting at his arms, which she knew if he once did he would rush into the midst of the assassins who were seeking him, she extinguished the light; and, throwing open the window, which looked upon the garden, she literally forced him to escape by the only exit that was left him. She had hardly closed the window, when the assassins were at the door: they had already murdered the three sentinels, and Colonel Ferguson, the general's aid-de-camp, whom they shot dead on the steps of the portico. Madame Emanuele seated herself in the middle of the bed-chamber, with folded arms, awaiting the demolition of the door, which they were now proceeding with, in consequence of her refusal to admit them.

When the ruffians burst in the room, a dozen daggers were instantly gleaming over the bed where they imagined Bolivar was concealed. Madame Emanuele,whose only object was to give time to the General to make good his retreat,-without ever moving from her position, or evincing the least emotion, informed the assassins that the General was still writing in his closet at the top of the house, where he was in the habit of spending the greater part of his nights in reading and writing, when he had much to engage him. They im

mediately proceeded to the closet: from that room she conducted them to various other apartments; and, finally, when she judged the fugitive had sufficient time to be beyond reach of pursuit, she returned to her apartment, with that bearing of female fearlessness which ferocity itself can never outrage. The disappointed conspirators, after destroying some of the papers of the General, were preparing to decamp, when the regiment of Major Whittle made its appearance at the palace, (Major Whittle having, by the greatest accident, heard of the insurrection on his return from a party,) and, after a desperate resistance, the insurgents were subdued, and the majority of those who were still in the palace were taken.

When the revolution commenced, Bolivar was one of the wealthiest proprietors of the country. When he was first pressed to place himself at the head of the insurgents, he refused to join them; but it was not long before he saw the necessity of yielding to renewed solicitation: and when he did draw the sword of revolt, he threw away the scabbard. His first act was to sacrifice property to the extent of forty thousand pounds. He possessed seven hundred slaves, and he gave them all their liberty. He formed a regiment of the liberated negroes; and this regiment proved highly serviceable in the course of the revolutionary war. What was the conduct of Washington in similar circumstances? At the outbreak of the American revolution he possessed one hundred slaves,—did he devote their services to the cause of his country? did he liberate his slaves to give liberty the hearts of a hundred new defenders? Far from it,-Washington clung to his property, while he had life to enjoy the advantages of slavery: it was only at his death his slaves obtained their freedom. The character of Bolivar has never yet been done justice to,-it remains for after-times to vindicate his memory, and to atone for the baseness of the country which twice drove him from its shores. It was on one of these occasions, at his return from his exile, that the same senate which clamoured for his blood received him VOL. II.

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