16th.—I find myself delightfully situated on this island of White Land, where not a blade of grass is seen; only hedges of bagonet plants and myrtles. It is a naked island, of about eight miles in {83} circumference, variegated with summer mansions, refuges from pestilence. The sea is tumultuously roaring about one's ears all night, and kissing one's feet all day. The houses are of wood, and built on wooden posts or pillars, so that the sea may flow (at high-tide in winter) underneath.
17th.—In the city, to which I can go by steam four times a day, I saw large flocks of vultures, called turkey buzzards, because they are of the size and form of a turkey. At a neighbouring city, Savannah, there is a law to enforce the fine of five dollars for every bird of this species, wantonly killed. They fly about like carrion-crows in England, but so tame that you may walk amongst and kill them easily. This, however, is not permitted, as they devour all filth and putrescence, and are considered as friends to the community at large.
The judges, counsellors, senators, and representatives, down to the constables, in this state, are, it is said, the slaves of popularity. Laws are therefore enacted and decisions made, unfriendly to the public good. In the courts, the influence of the bench over the bar is scarcely seen or felt; or, if at all used, it is done in the most gentle and delicate manner, both seemingly mutually obliged and obliging. The same conduct also exists in the bar, towards witnesses, who audaciously mount the judge's bench to give evidence. This love of popularity is deemed by some an enemy to the {84} general weal. My landlady, Mrs. Calder, a Caledonian, grumbles greatly, because her billiard table pays a tax of 100 dollars annually. How hard!
