I have now to tell you of my hallowing last Sunday by gathering a congregation of the people into my big sitting-room, and reading prayers to them.  I had been wishing very much to do this for some time past, and obtained Mr. ——­’s leave while I was with him at the Rice Island, and it was a great pleasure to me.  Some of the people are allowed to go up to Darien once a month to church; but, with that exception, they have no religious service on Sunday whatever for them.  There is a church on the Island of St. Simon, but they are forbidden to frequent it, as it leads them off their own through neighbouring plantations, and gives opportunities for meetings between the negroes of the different estates, and very likely was made the occasion of abuses and objectionable practices of various kinds; at any rate, Mr. K——­ forbade the Hampton slaves resorting to the St. Simon’s church; and so, for three Sundays in the month they are utterly without Christian worship or teaching, or any religious observance of God’s day whatever.

I was very anxious that it should not be thought that I ordered any of the people to come to prayers, as I particularly desired to see if they themselves felt the want of any Sabbath service, and would of their own accord join in any such ceremony; I therefore merely told the house servants that if they would come to the sitting-room at eleven o’clock, I would read prayers to them, and that they might tell any of their friends or any of the people that I should be very glad to see them if they liked to come.  Accordingly, most of those who live at the Point, i.e. in the immediate neighbourhood of the house, came, and it was encouraging to see the very decided efforts at cleanliness and decorum of attire which they had all made.  I was very much affected and impressed myself by what I was doing, and I suppose must have communicated some of my own feeling to those who heard me.  It is an extremely solemn thing to me to read the Scriptures aloud to any one, and there was something in my relation to the poor people by whom I was surrounded that touched me so deeply while thus attempting to share with them the best of my possessions, that I found it difficult to command my voice, and had to stop several times in order to do so.  When I had done, they all with one accord uttered the simple words, ‘We thank you, missis,’ and instead of overwhelming me as usual with petitions and complaints, they rose silently and quietly, in a manner that would have become the most orderly of Christian congregations accustomed to all the impressive decorum of civilised church privileges.  Poor people!  They are said to have what a very irreligious young English clergyman once informed me I had—­a ‘turn for religion.’  They seem to me to have a ‘turn’ for instinctive good manners too; and certainly their mode of withdrawing from my room after our prayers bespoke either a strong feeling of their own or a keen appreciation of mine.