It may by some be thought folly thus to beautify the place of death—to garnish that spot where the worm revels upon the once animated clay!—to plant the gladsome, gaily-tinted flowers where all is mouldering beneath! Be it so—yet would I see the flowers blooming over the grave of those I have loved, and while seated near, feel that the bitterness of death is past, and that their happy disembodied spirits range, free from all sorrows, amid the amaranthine bowers of heaven! Like the late talented and oft-lamented “L. E. L.,” I love to frequent the scene of our last resting-place—like her, to— “Stand beneath the haunted yew, And watch each quiet tomb; And in the ancient churchyard feel Solemnity, not gloom. The place is purified with hope— The hope that is of prayer; And human love, and heavenward thought, And pious faith are there. The golden cord which binds us all Is loosed, not rent in twain; And love, and hope, and fear unite, To bring the past again.” The parochial school is held in a small house near the church. It is conducted upon the same plan as the other schools of the kind in Antigua; the instruction consisting of lessons in reading, writing, arithmetic, repetition of catechism and hymns, and plain-work for the girls. St. Paul’s has a chapel-of-ease in English Harbour; which was, in truth, a private dwelling-house, but now, disencumbered of its partitions, serves as a chapel, and is capable, it is said, of affording accommodation for 350 persons; during the week, it is appropriated to the use of an infant school. The whole of Falmouth is thickly studded with clumps of acacia, privet, and prickly pear; all of which are of the _thorny family_, and if report be true, serve the inhabitants instead of pins. Between Falmouth and English Harbour lies a marshy thickly covered with sand, and dotted about with groups of mangrove-trees, in all their glittering, green foliage, forming so many _oases_ in the midst of a burning desert. The sea overflows this spot at times, and leaves its tribute in the shape of small shells and bunches of sea-weed. Opposite to Falmouth, looking across the waters of the harbour, a bold promontory stretches out into the ocean, to which has been given the name of “Black’s Point.” As it belongs to a gentleman of that name, it is generally supposed in Antigua, to derive its cognomen from that cause. Such supposition is, however, incorrect, for it is laid down in an old chart of the island as “Black’s Point” long before its present possessor came into existence. The real origin of its bearing that appellation is from the fact of its having been the place where it was customary to land the cargoes of newly-imported negroes, prior to the abolition of the slave trade; and from this circumstance the name it now bears was given to it.