go THE HAMILTON ASSOCIATION. 
Cuba, and on to Morant Bay, but a few hours’ steam from Kingston. 
As I stood on the deck, glass in hand, the distant hills looked as if 
covered with green fur, the whole scene suggesting one’s conception 
of the Garden of Eden. What inviting spots—the green canes, 
cocoanut groves, and away up the mountains the huts of the natives, 
as if glued to the hillside. The sun had kissed the sea when we 
came to anchor at Port Royal. It was too late to enter Kingston 
harbour that night. There was a luxurious calm about everything as 
we sauntered about the deck ; the electric lights in the distance 
sparkled like stars. Port Royal is an historic place. In time of 
war it is an important naval station. My British heart beat with 
pride as I saw the evidence of Britain’s power—the guard ship, the 
batteries, the dear old flag. Memory became busy with the history 
of the gallant deeds of British heroes. 
“« The spirit of our fathers 
Might rise from every wave, 
For the deep it was their field of fame 
And the ocean was their grave.” 
Nine-tenths of Port Royal was buried beneath the sea in 1692. 
There was an awful earthquake, and in two minutes Port Royal was 
swallowed up. The ruins of the place now submerged are still 
visible in a certain condition of the water. It was a place given up 
to wickedness of the grossest description, and by many the calamity 
was regarded as a visitation of an offended God on a place “ wallow- 
ing in riches and abandoned to wickedness.” Only 300 houses out 
of 3,000 were left standing. As we steamed along in the morning 
what a glorious scene feasted the vision. The island fresh, as if 
just out of a bath; the peaks of the Blue Mountains towering in 
silent yet glorious majesty ; the hills and valleys glittering under the 
bright and azure sky, as a garden of the Lord. No two travellers 
will see the same picture. One will be looking in one direction and 
catch the grand amphitheatre of hills, the other may rest on the 
placid harbor ; but look which way you will, you will find a charm, 
and one so different to anything you ever expected that you are filled 
with wonder and delight. 
After landing at Kingston I was soon off to Constant Spring 
Hotel, six miles from the city of Kingston, and about 200 feet 
above the sea. Kingston is a busy place, with a population of about 
