We entered a tavern, in the lower part of the town, where we indulged in a copious draught, known by the name of porter cup, an excellent and refreshing beverage, made of Madeira wine, Port, and other ingredients, and which I commend to the notice of any traveller who may hereafter travel that way. This tavern was kept by a facetious and eccentric character, well known by the appellation of Johnny Feron, a sort of French adventurer. His house was generally well frequented by strangers, who, during the period that they remain within his care, he, by means of an exorbitant bill, relieves of the troublesome burthen of any loose cash by which they may be overloaded. The house of this wily Frenchman was crammed full from top to bottom of soldiers and sailors, carousing, smoking and revelling. The galleries were occupied by a noisy crew, who with loud and obstreperous mirth made the slender fabric ring. Upstairs and down, the landlord with his train of dusky waiters were running to and fro, so many were the calls for the attendance of these worthies; the tongues of the bells chimed in with that of their master, while a garrulous jargon was kept up, that made us gladly take leave of this Pandemonium for the more tranquil regions of the ship; we therefore hastened to the beach, where a boat was in readiness to convey us on board. The hotel, (which from the number of its customers was entitled to that designation,) was a light and flimsy tenement, and, like other buildings throughout the island, was but a mere piece of framework, lathed or boarded in, and having verandas and jalousies, painted in various gaudy colours. In consequence of the prevalence of storms and hurricanes, the elevation in these cases is never beyond the first floor, from whence project a range of galleries, supported by the pillars of the colonnade below. The whole arrangement of the slender edifice is such, that any inconvenience arising from the heat and other effects of such a climate is but slightly felt. The town of Port Royal, (situated, as is well known, on that remarkable strip of sand that forms the eastern barrier of Kingston harbour) has had many awful visitations, being so often destroyed by earthquakes, and as often rebuilt upon the ruins, that it is fit only for those who, being tired of their lives, would venture on the chances of a new and summary mode of making their final exit. However, the importance of the station as a naval depôt, as well as that of the works commanding the entrance of the bay, have outweighed all other considerations, and have induced the government at home to keep so strong a garrison there, that the remnant of a town is yet preserved, although from past experience one might expect that desolation and tottering walls would be its only monument.