"The very extraordinary nature of the message I have received from the House of Assembly, compels me to point out to the Legislature of Jamaica the position in which the conduct of one of its branches has placed the Colony; to that branch, therefore, must I more particularly address myself, while I review its proceedings during the present session-while I point out what disposition it has evinced to meet the wishes of the mother country.

"Two messages I have recently sent down on the subject of the Police Bill, and the Act in aid, have placed my views of the manner in which these two measures have been treated in the Assembly, in too clear a light to require more than a very few remarks.

"I pressed on you the establishment of more courts of assizes, so strongly recommended by the presentment of the Grand Jury. You took no notice of it. A revision of the laws affecting the discipline of gaols and other places of confinement was recommended to you. All these subjects have remained unnoticed. The whipping of females, you were informed by me, officially, was in practice; and I called upon you to make enactments to put an end to conduct so repugnant to humanity, and so contrary to law. So far from passing an Act to prevent the recurrence of such cruelty, you have in no way expressed your disapprobation of it. I communicated to you my opinion, and that of the Secretary of State, of the injustice of cutting off the hair of females in the House of Correction previous to trial; you have paid no attention to the subject.

"I informed the house, that in the question of the British Government, the taxation imposed by the local authorities on the property of apprentices was quite illegal; you totally disregarded this suggestion.

"I sent you down no less than four messages on the subject of an extended system of education; as no measure on the subject has emanated from the House, can I do otherwise than conclude, that you are indifferent to it? I informed you, that £25,000 sterling had been voted by England for the support of education in the colonies, with the promise of still further assistance being afforded, and you have taken no steps to make it available. I transmitted to you dispatches from the Secretary of State, recommending the repeal of the 33rd Canon, with a view to increase religious instruction in the colony; you have not attended to the recommendation. I recommended the introduction of an Emigration Bill; I pointed out to you the injury done to the poorer classes of the claimants for compensation, by the schemes of interested persons; I communicated to you the circumstances, arising out of your own decision, relating to the Police Bill; you have taken no notice of it."

Did the Anti-Slavery Society, ever pass stronger censures on the proceedings of the House of Assembly than are contained in this speech?

On the accession of Sir Lionel Smith to the government, the same recommendations were repeated; and we ask, how, up to the present moment, have they been attended to? A marriage act has been passed, and an act, open to some very serious objections, for the classification of ap prentices. Every other recommendation has been treated with neglect amounting to contempt! But Sir Lionel Smith, in his speech to the Legislature on the 1st Nov. last, asserted more than, at that time, had even been charged upon the apprenticeship system by the Anti-Slavery Society itself; for his Excellency on that occasion, as his Majesty's representative, in the performance of one of the most grave and important duties of his office, asserted-that circumstances had occurred in the Island" which in many instances provoked more severity and harshness towards the labourers, than ever existed in slavery," to which the House, in their address in answer, fully responded.

II.-Reminiscences of Home.

"GOOD BENJAMIN."

Not only does the matured mind revert to those places and persons which are bound up with the springtime of life-not only with the hills and rivers, plains and forests, with grey-haired sages, and light, laughing, thoughtless youth, but with the conversations, the recitals, and proverbs which have poured from aged and reverend lips;-these oft bind us most strongly to the golden days of youth. It is when imagination has conjured up the person and furnished the spot with all its fascinating material, that the tone and accent, in which sage counsel was conveyed to the mind, seem once again to pour its soft yet powerful stream into the mind. Oft have we experienced this momentary but pleasant cheat-yes, when withdrawn for a brief while from the hurry and turmoil, of life to seek refreshment in secrecy, oft has the voice of one, bound up with the best moments of our youthful days, seemed to break in upon that solitude, and repeat its many-times told, but ever instructive, narrative of men and things. When we first knew him he was an old man; his tall commanding figure, masculine structure, benevolent and temperate though care-worn countenance, his silver locks, long and flowing, his neat though antiquated dress, and above all his unction and solemnity of spirit and conversation never can be erased from our recollection. Often when but a child has he taken us on his knee, and with a kind and winning smile told

us

"How Abraham the friend of God"

walked with him, until our then uninformed mind became absorbed in the delightful theme. When we first knew Benjamin R-, his establishment was very simple, but orderly and neat ; here and there were indications in the furniture of what are generally deemed better days. There were things on which our wandering and easily attracted mind would rest and be especially curious to know their nature and history. They seemed however, to possess with him but a melancholy and humiliating interest. One room appeared to be his favourite resort, Its only furniture consisted in a few plain chairs and an oaken table, but it had a library well stored with the best works The book which appeared however to be his especial favourite was a well-thumbed copy of the Holy Scriptures. His days appeared to be divided between his study of the Bible and attention to a well-arranged flower-garden into which his study led; he was a warm admirer of nature as well as a lover of grace. Many a time have we sat and listened with delight to his tales of plants and flowers, and to the useful lessons,

which he deduced now from the beauty but frailty of the lily, and then from the utility and abiding of the oak-now from the retiring but beautiful violet, and then from the more elevated but not less beautiful rose

"Which withers and fades in an hour."

Well is it impressed on our mind how, at the close of one of these pleasing interviews, wearying as children will do of the most beautiful scenes if too long held to view, our eye caught the picture of a female which hung over the mantlepiece. It was the portrait of a handsome and intelligent woman in the sear time of life. The countenance originally cheerful was tinged with deep sorrow; it was that kind of countenance which makes you respect while you love its possessor. He saw our eye resting on this representative of some one who when living was loved, and turning away his manly face he groaned in spirit. Playfully did we entreat him to look on us again, and when he did we saw the big tear rolling down his furrowed cheek; and we wept too. For who can see a venerable good man weep and not feel the cord of sympathy struck in his own bosom! Why do you weep? good Benjamin! we said (for this was the name by which he was known in the town)-Why do you weep? did I hurt you? let me kiss you, no! no! you must not weep; tell me what it is? It was the picture, my son, he replied. Whose portrait is it? Why does it make you cry? Why not tear it to pieces? No! no! said the old man, I will not destroy it. It is a remembrancer of past days; pictures may be abused, they may become idols, but if properly viewed they may serve to excite gratitude and lead to humility. That is the portrait of my wife, and these he said, drawing back a small silk curtain, are the portraits of my sons, and as he gazed on them the tears rolled faster and faster down his aged cheeks. Your wife!-your sons! Benjamin, we replied, in the simplicity of childhood, and asked, when had you a wife? When had you sons? I never saw them, you never spoke of them; this was not fair. Where are they? They are dead, my son, he replied, embracing us in his arms and sobbing aloud. They are dead, for God took them-but this is weakness, he added-" The Lord gave and the Lord hath taken away, blessed be the name of the Lord!" After a pause he said, some time I will relate you my history. I will show you that there is an overruling and kind Providence, in which if you trust you shall never lack either temporal or spiritual comfort or direction. On our next visit to the good man he said, I promised to recite you portions of my history. He proceeded: "Once, said he, I was like you, a little boy: I had then, like you, a kind and upright father, and a tender and affectionate mother. Our family

consisted of three sons and a daughter: we were indeed a happy family. That large house now in possession of the C. 8. (pointing with his finger to a mansion in the distance) was my father's; in these beautiful grounds have I oft enjoyed the most exquisite pleasures. My father was affluent and respected, he commanded the good esteem of his townsmen, while my mother excited the admiration and secured the love of her female neighbours. With the exception of myself the little ones were frail in constitution and early dropped into the grave, that they might rise and flourish in a more genial soil. They all died and left me to be nurtured and taught for God by my fond but sorrowful parents. They did not, as might be expected, indulge my caprices: they saw that they had but one flower left, and it they watched, and guarded, and tended with deep solicitude, and were anxious not only that it might be beautiful but fragrant and useful. They commended what was commendable and exposed and reprobated that which was ill. The one they did so as to preclude vanity and the other without overwhelming me with sorrow. And my boast and happiness is not that I possess descent from aristocratic blood, but " that I am of parents passed into the skies;" for they died also and left me young and inexperienced to contend with the storms of life. I was left under the guardianship of Joseph J- a man of whose kindness and integrity you have doubtless heard-" A good name," my son, "is better than precious ointment." By industry and economy my father had added to his hereditary fortune a considerable sum, so that on arriving at years of responsibility, I found myself in possession of a very large and accumulating fortune. Young, active and enterprising, and desirous of seeing and knowing the world, I determined, under advice, to embark a large portion of my property in shipping, and as gain was not my object I laid down at the commencement of my career these rulesFirst, to devote a certain percentage out of my profits to God, accumulate as they might; and this I continued to do so long as God prospered me. Secondly, to reward the industrious with places of trust and emolument, irrespective of previous connections and advantages. The best evidence of the successful operation of that rule of my life is manifest in the many young men of inferior families who now occupy the most respectable positions in our society. Thirdly, to be satisfied in whatever situation God should place me or whatever might be the reverses of fortune with which he might visit me. The motto of my life was, "The Lord gave and the Lord hath taken away, blessed be the name of the Lord;" and I may appeal to my townsmen whether, as the two former rules have been the means of conferring happiness on others, the latter has not been the stay and comfort of

my own life in all its vicissitudes. Nor have they been few. Years rolled on in which it could but be said of me that "whatsoever I did prospered." The sun always seemed to shine on my path, and every thing ministered to my tranquillity and elevation. The world and the church equally smiled on me; but these were not my happiest days. Outwardly all was smiling, but there was not that inward peace which is the only source of real bliss; but still I blessed God for his gifts and gave him back a part of my substance. During this season of prosperity, not the least element in my happiness was that which arose from my union with the amiable woman whose portrait attracted your attention. It is customary and natural for every husband to praise his wife, especially if she has passed into the heavens, and sometimes to give her more praise than others can assent to bestow; but it is not saying too much of her, that she was affectionate without art, firm without boldness, wise without conceit, zealous without obtrusiveness, and pious without display. She was "a good woman" in which expression is included all that can constitute a useful neighbour, an affectionate mother, and an attached wife. She was the mother of five children; they grew up, my son, to be hale and useful men. They were blessings to their parents and their associates. The whole of them devoted their lives to the sea, and after having served in all the subordinate offices of a sailor's life with satisfaction, were put in command of my own vessels. Our happiness seemed now as complete as earth could make it. Years rolled

away marked only by the interchange of mutual love and confidence in our social circle, and with prosperity in our commercial undertakings. All my sons became true and devoted disciples of Christ; I seemed to have nothing to do on earth but to be the means of blessing others and preparing myself for the blessedness of heaven. I thought I was intent on this duty, but I fear my heart clave too closely to the objects of earth. I made idols of my mercies and allowed the creature to enter my heart and occupy the place of God. The good providence of God produced agents, at this period of prosperity, by which I was restrained, warned, and arrested, in the devious paths of life. My prosperity was now at its zenith, my present circumstances redolent of comfort, and my prospects dazzlingly bright. I did then begin to yield to the dictates of sense, and to turn aside from the narrow path and pitch my tent in the plains of Moab, instead of pressing on to the heavenly Zion. I sat beneath my gourd and thought it an oak; but the Lord smote it and made me feel how frail it was. First, Helen, the partner of my joys and sorrows for twenty-five years, sickened and died. I followed her to the grave and returned to my home sad; but