y sailing past
it, and not a few suffering shipwreck every year upon its
numerous shoals and rocks. For not only is the land itself low,
and thus apt to be run against by vessels which may have
approached in stormy weather too near to put about, but for many
miles round, reefs of sunken rocks stretch out into the sea in
every direction; insomuch, that even the approach to the
principal anchorage is no more than a narrow channel between two
reefs, in many places scarcely exceeding a mile or a mile and a
half in width. The navigation, even in calm weather, is
therefore attended with considerable danger; the idea of which is
greatly heightened by the remarkable clearness of the water and
the peculiar brightness of the rocks. In some places this is so
much the case, that the bottom may be seen at the depth of six or
seven fathoms; whilst the aspect of the reefs which lie on each
side, as you steer towards the anchorage, is such, as almost to
persuade you, contrary to the evidence of reason, that a man
might leap upon them from a boat without incurring the danger of
being wet above the knees. Yet these very reefs are seldom
covered with less than six, and sometimes with fourteen and
fifteen feet of water.

Low as they are, the shores of Bermuda are nevertheless extremely
beautiful. They are covered with cedar, a tree which here, at
least, seldom exceeds the height of twenty feet, and from which,
before the sun has risen and after he has set, the land breeze
comes loaded with the most delicious perfume. Under the wood
there grows a rich short turf, apparently struggling to spread
itself over the chalky rocks, of which the entire island, or
rather islands, seem to be composed; and, as the houses of the
better orders are chiefly built within reach of the cool air from
the water, they, with their little lawns and gardens, produce a
lively and pleasing effect.

As darkness had come on before the ship could be properly moored,
no boats were permitted to leave her that night; but at an early
hour next morning I embraced the first opportunity of going on
shore. To reach St. George's, the capital of the colony, you are
obliged to row for several miles up a narrow frith called the
ferry, immediately on entering which the scenery becomes in the
highest degree picturesque. Though still retaining its character
of low, the ground on each side looks as if it were broken into
little swells, the whole of them beautifully shaded