nurses.  If you are half as tired of the sameness and stupidity of the conversation of my southern female neighbours as I am, I pity you; but not as much as I pity them for the stupid sameness of their most vapid existence, which would deaden any amount of intelligence, obliterate any amount of instruction, and render torpid and stagnant any amount of natural energy and vivacity.  I would rather die—­rather a thousand times—­than live the lives of these Georgia planters’ wives and daughters.

Mrs. S——­ had brought me some of the delicious wild jasmine that festoons her dreary pine-wood drive, and most grateful I was for the presence of the sweet wild nosegay in my highly unornamental residence.  When my visitors had left me, I took the refreshment of a row over to Darien; and as we had the tide against us coming back, the process was not so refreshing for the rowers.  The evening was so extremely beautiful, and the rising of the moon so exquisite, that instead of retreating to the house when I reached the island, I got into the Dolphin, my special canoe, and made Jack paddle me down the great river to meet the Lily, which was coming back from St. Simon’s with Mr. ——­ who has been preparing all things for our advent thither.

My letter has been interrupted, dear E——­, by the breaking up of our residence on the rice plantation, and our arrival at St. Simon’s, whence I now address you.  We came down yesterday afternoon, and I was thankful enough of the fifteen miles’ row to rest in, from the labour of leave-taking, with which the whole morning was taken up, and which, combined with packing and preparing all our own personalities and those of the children, was no sinecure.  At every moment one or other of the poor people rushed in upon me to bid me good-bye; many of their farewells were grotesque enough, some were pathetic, and all of them made me very sad.  Poor people! how little I have done, how little I can do for them.  I had a long talk with that interesting and excellent man, Cooper London, who made an earnest petition that I would send him from the North a lot of Bibles and Prayer Books; certainly the science of reading must be much more common among the negroes than I supposed, or London must look to a marvellously increased spread of the same hereafter.  There is, however, considerable reticence upon this point, or else the poor slaves must consider the mere possession of the holy books as good for salvation and as effectual for spiritual assistance to those who cannot as to those who can comprehend them.  Since the news of our departure has spread, I have had repeated eager entreaties for presents of Bibles and Prayer Books, and to my demurrer of ‘But you can’t read; can you?’ have generally received for answer a reluctant acknowledgement of ignorance, which, however, did not always convince me of the fact.  In my farewell conversation with London I found it impossible to get him to tell me how he had learned to read:  the penalties for