Mr. Thwaites has under his charge eleven day-schools, with about 800 scholars; and three Sunday-schools, with about 900 scholars. Besides attending these several schools, Mr. Thwaites visits the neighbouring estates in the evenings, for the purpose of giving the labourers religious instruction, and guarding his elder pupils, or those who have left his schools, for the purpose of engaging in the avocations customary to their province in life, against those temptations to which their age and sex are most subject.

It has been remarked in a late publication, (in commenting upon events in Antigua) that “after ransacking the whole freed population for a dozen suitable teachers of children, Mr. Thwaites could not find even that number who could read well.” Now, this is a great error, and altogether contradicted by Mr. Thwaites himself. The blacks certainly had not the means of improving themselves in former years, as the more fortunate generation have had since emancipation; but that the whole class were so totally ignorant as not to be able to read, is entirely incorrect. In proof of this, the superintendant pointed out to our notice several teachers who were well adapted for their employment; one in particular, who, Mr. T. remarked, conducted a school consisting of 120 scholars, which he instructed in reading, writing, and arithmetic, in which last branch of education many of his pupils had attained to “Practice” and “Vulgar Fractions.”

The salaries of these paid teachers (of which there are seventeen, the remainder giving their services without any recompence) are very small​—​not more than from three to four dollars (12s. and 16s. sterling) per month. They are paid by the “Ladies’ Negro Education Society,” and other benevolent societies in England, who also defray the other expenses of the schools, with the exception of the superintendent’s salary, which is provided by the Wesleyan mission. The children, who receive instruction in writing, cyphering, and needlework, pay a small pittance, which is placed in the school fund.

There is a very neat and excellent little library attached to the Willoughby-Bay school, where the works of “Abbott,” “Sherwood,” “Pike,” and various other pious authors, are open to the use of all, besides treatises upon geography, history, and experimental philosophy. The lighter works, such as Mrs. Sherwood’s pretty, and often affecting, little narratives, are read, Mrs. Thwaites informed me, with avidity by the negroes, to which intelligence their well-thumbed covers gave a tacit assent. Around the schoolroom were hung various cards, with texts of scripture printed upon them in large characters, that “such who run may read”​—​a practice I greatly admire, for turn whichever way you will, some goodly sentence meets your eye.

In the neat little yard attached to Mr. Thwaites’ dwelling, we met with some old friends of mine​—​a small wooden hive of “busy bees.” A pane of glass inserted into the box gave us a view of the industrious little creatures building their waxen cells, in which to store their fragrant food; but the weather was against them​—​the long drought had withered the flowers, and thus curtailed their stock of honey. There are very few bee-hives to be met with in Antigua. This is rather strange, as all Creoles are noted for having a “sweet tooth,” and consequently honey is reckoned a luxury. It cannot be from want of proper food, that the labours of these little insects are discountenanced, for Nature has been most prodigal of her stores to Antigua, and clothed her every hill and dale with melliferous blossoms.

I have heard of one gentleman, however, who was very anxious to establish an apiary upon his property in Antigua, and accordingly he obtained some choice hives, which in due time were safely deposited in his well-stocked garden. Soon after their arrival, however, business called him from the island, and he committed his valued bees to the care of his overseer, a true son of Hibernia, with an expressed hope, “that they would not wander from home.” The day after his departure, the overseer, wishful of obliging his employer, stole from his multitudinous duties a sufficient time to watch the movements of his buzzing charge. The bright sun drew them from their hives, and jocund in their little hearts, away they bounded on the balmy zephyr. Innumerable flowers dazzled their eyes, and courted their attention. Here the gorgeous hybiscus spread out its glowing bosom​—​there the blushing frangipanne loaded the air with its rich fragrance. At one moment they inserted their trunks into the sweet-scented cup of the jasmine; at the next, and they brushed the pearly dew from the brilliant radii of the passion-flower. Onward they flew, allured by flowerets of every colour, each one as

“Fair as the fabulous Asphodels;”

until at length, to the dismay of the overseer, they were lost to sight! He was no naturalist: he had never studied “Réaumur” upon the “habits of bees,” and as the last straggler disappeared, he thought “Well! Mr. ——— hoped they would not wander from home, but by St. Patrick they’re all gone, and if they ever come back is a query.” However, as nothing could be done, he was obliged to leave them to their fate; and in a rather disconsolate mood, “he turned and left the spot.”

Hours wore away,

“The evening came, the sun descended,”