how, contrived to pass as Ajax; the other had turned into Hercules doing
something to the Stymphalides. At last they get tired of standing to be
looked at, jump down, and together knock over the connoisseur. Ajax then
turns on Hercules, who, of course, is ready for a row. They fight till
they are tired, and then make it up over a whisky bottle.

So entirely new an aspect of the British tar took me by surprise, and I
speculated whether the inventors and performers of this astonishing
drama were an advance on the Ben Bunting type. I was, of course,
inclined to say no, but my tendency is to dislike changes, and I allow
for it. The commodore said that in certain respects there really was an
advance. The seamen fell into few scrapes, and they did not get drunk so
often. This was a hardy assertion of the commodore, as a good many of
them were drunk at that moment. I could see myself that they were
better educated. If Ben Bunting had been asked who Ajax and Hercules
were, he would have taken them to be three-deckers which were so named,
and his knowledge would have gone no farther. Whether these tars of the
new era are better sailors and braver and truer men is another question.
They understand their rights much better, if that does any good to them.
The officers used to be treated with respect at all times and seasons.
This is now qualified. When they are on duty, the men are as respectful
as they used to be; when they are off duty, the commodore himself is
only old H----.

We returned to the dockyard in a boat under a full moon, the guardship
gleaming white in the blue midnight and the phosphorescent water
flashing under the oars. The 'Dee,' which was to take me to Havana, was
off Port Royal on the following morning. The commodore put me on board
in his gig, with the white ensign floating over the stern. I took leave
of him with warm thanks for his own and his family's hospitable
entertainment of me. The screw went round--we steamed away out of the
harbour, and Jamaica and the kind friends whom I had found there faded
out of sight. Jamaica was the last of the English West India Islands
which I visited. I was to see it again, but I will here set down the
impressions which had been left upon me by what I had seen there and
seen in the Antilles.

CHAPTER XVII.

Present state of Jamaica--Test of progress--Resources of the
island--Political alternatives--Black supremacy and probable
consequences--The West I