The president of the Council, which was not infrequently recruited from the Assembly, was John Lewis, the chief justice, a relative of the well-known “Monk” Lewis; and other members (twelve in all) bore the well-known Jamaica names of Broadbelt, Ross, Pinnock, Cuthbert, Scarlett, Nembhardt and Jackson. Its chaplain was the Rev. John Campbell (rector of St. Andrew). Its librarian was Alexander Dallas, a relation of the author of the “History of the Maroons.” The Assembly opened daily with prayer. Until 1842, when a new judicature law, which transferred to a vice-chancellor the authority of chancellor, came into force, the governor for the time being was _ex-officio_ chancellor of the island, and sat in a Chancellor’s Court which was held in the Egyptian hall of Ring’s House. At its first session the House was wont to go over “in grand procession”—the speaker preceded by the macebearer with the mace—to King’s House at 4 P.M. to hear the governor read his speech. They then returned and deliberated on the speech, to which they sent a reply. They formally elected a speaker. He was wont to plead his unworthiness but allowed himself to be over-persuaded, and the governor gave his approval. After the passing of many compliments the pendulum not infrequently swung round to the point of contention and bickering, but many of the Assembly honestly did their best in legislating for the well-being of the colony. To do honour to Sir Henry Barkly the Assembly turned their hall into a ballroom, each member subscribing £10 toward the cost of the entertainment. In 1853 the House committed to jail, where he was kept for upwards of twenty-four hours, one of the judges of the supreme court, William Stevenson (afterwards governor of Mauritius), for an alleged breach of privilege in writing a letter to the public press, in which he accused them of violating public faith and confiscating the property of public men. An English merchant describing Jamaica in 1726 says, “Nor is the keeping of a coach and six any more credit than keeping a horse in England, it is so common in the lowlands where the roads will admit”; and, even within the memory of those living, members of the Council and Assembly were wont to drive into Spanish Town in style. The late Mr. Judah, in “Old St. Jago” (1894), says: