We saw the apprentices assemble after twelve o’clock, to receive their allowances of yams.  These provisions are distributed to them twice every week—­on Monday and Thursday.  They were strewed along the yard in heaps of fifteen pounds each.  The apprentices came with baskets to get their allowances.  It resembled a market scene, much chattering and talking, but no anger.  Each man, woman, and child, as they got their baskets filled, placed them of their heads, and marched off to their several huts.

On Tuesday morning, at an early hour, Mr. C. took us in his phaeton on our projected excursion.  It was a beautiful morning.  There was a full breeze from the east, which had already started the ponderous wings of the wind-mills, in every direction.  The sun was shaded by light clouds, which rendered the air quite cool.  Crossing the rich valley in which the Bell estate and other noble properties are situated, we ascended the cliffs of St. John’s—­a ridge extending through the parish of that name and as we rode along its top, eastward, we had a delightful view of sea and land.  Below us on either hand lay vast estates glowing in the, verdure of summer, and on three sides in the distance stretched the ocean.  Rich swells of land, cultivated and blooming like a vast garden, extended to the north as far as the eye could reach, and on every other side down to the water’s edge.  One who has been accustomed to the wildness of American scenery, and to the imperfect cultivation, intercepted with woodland, which yet characterizes the even the oldest portions of the United States, might revel for a time amid the sunny meadows.  The waving cane fields, the verdant provision grounds, the acres of rich black soil without a blade of grass, and divided into beds two feet square for the cane plants with the precision almost of the cells of a honey comb; and withal he might be charmed with the luxurious mansions—­more luxurious than superb—­surrounded with the white cedar, the cocoa-nut tree, and the tall, rich mountain cabbage—­the most beautiful of all tropical trees; but perchance it would not require a very long excursion to weary him with the artificiality of the scenery, and cause him to sigh for the “woods and wilds,” the “banks and braes,” of his own majestic country.

After an hour and a half’s drive, we reached Colliton estate, where we were engaged to breakfast.  We met a hearty welcome from the manager, Samuel Hinkston, Esq. we were soon joined by several gentlemen whom Mr. H. had invited to take breakfast with us; these were the Rev. Mr. Gittens, rector of St. Philip’s parish, (in which Colliton estate is situated,) and member of the colonial council; Mr. Thomas, an extensive attorney of Barbadoes; and Dr. Bell, a planter of Demerara—­then on a visit to the island.  We conversed with each of the gentlemen separately, and obtained their individual views respecting emancipation.