It is to be lamented that this recklessness of life, that prevails in the United States of America, should have extended its baneful influence over our West India colonies. Both the British and French creoles are hasty in the expression of their displeasure, and vindictive in seeking to avenge their real or supposed wrongs. This circumstance is perhaps to be attributed to the great mortality which afflicts these unhealthy regions, as the constant sight of death, and the incessant tolling of the passing bell, must in a great measure strip death of many of its terrors. It is also to be observed, that the creoles, who enjoy a short but a merry life, are much addicted to the pleasures of the table, and balls generally succeed the festival, when the passions, excited by previous stimulants, predispose to a captious and jealous susceptibility; and wine and women reign paramount in the assembly. To this circumstance may be superadded the constant dissensions in colonial politics, where the representatives of the place are often in collision with the government; and it is to be lamented, that too frequently the crown lawyers themselves, instead of endeavouring to check the evils that must arise from such a want of concert and harmony, are the first to disturb the public peace; and attorney-general and solicitor-general are occasionally the most troublesome and pugnacious members of society. A very severe lesson was given to a noted French duellist in Jamaica, by the captain of a West Indiaman, which is worthy of record. Henri d’Egville was a creole of St. Domingo, and had obtained great notoriety from the frequent quarrels and fatal duels in which he had been engaged. He was dining one day at Kingston, in company with several persons, amongst whom was a Scotch captain, of the name of Stewart. The meeting was convivial, and various songs and toasts were called for and given. At last D’Egville requested Stewart to sing a Gaëlic song, which the Scotchman declined on the plea of his ignorance of that language. The Frenchman insisted, when Stewart sang a Scotch drinking song, which D’Egville, who understood but little English, took for a Gaëlic strain. Here the matter ended, the party broke up, and Stewart repaired to his vessel, accompanied by a friend, when the conversation turned upon duelling, and the reputation that D’Egville had obtained of being a dangerous man. Stewart expressed his horror of duelling, and admitted that it had been his misfortune to kill one of his intimate friends, of the name of Cameron, in a hostile meeting, occasioned by some difference between them concerning a lady, when Cameron had struck him. The Scotchman expressed his deep sorrow for that melancholy event, which had ever since embittered his existence.