with it except upon
my express order, which, in spite of some pangs of pity for the otter, I
did not like to give him, as in the extremely few resources of either
profit or pleasure possessed by the slaves I could not tell at all what
might be the value of an otter to his captor.

Yesterday evening the burial of the poor man Shadrach took place. I had
been applied to for a sufficient quantity of cotton cloth to make a
winding-sheet for him, and just as the twilight was thickening into
darkness I went with Mr. ---- to the cottage of one of the slaves whom I
may have mentioned to you before--a cooper of the name of London, the head
of the religious party of the inhabitants of the island, a methodist
preacher of no small intelligence and influence among the people--who was
to perform the burial service. The coffin was laid on trestles in front of
the cooper's cottage, and a large assemblage of the people had gathered
round, many of the men carrying pine-wood torches, the fitful glare of
which glanced over the strange assembly, where every pair of large
white-rimmed eyes turned upon ---- and myself; we two poor creatures on
this more solemn occasion, as well as on every other when these people
encounter us, being the objects of admiration and wonderment, on which
their gaze is immovably riveted. Presently the whole congregation uplifted
their voices in a hymn, the first high wailing notes of which--sung all in
unison, in the midst of these unwonted surroundings--sent a thrill through
all my nerves. When the chant ceased, cooper London began a prayer, and
all the people knelt down in the sand, as I did also. Mr. ---- alone
remained standing in the presence of the dead man, and of the living God
to whom his slaves were now appealing. I cannot tell you how profoundly
the whole ceremony, if such it could be called, affected me, and there was
nothing in the simple and pathetic supplication of the poor black artisan
to check or interfere with the solemn influences of the whole scene. It
was a sort of conventional methodist prayer, and probably quite as
conventional as all the rest was the closing invocation of God's blessing
upon their master, their mistress, and our children; but this fairly
overcame my composure, and I began to cry very bitterly; for these same
individuals, whose implication in the state of things in the midst of
which we are living, seemed to me as legitimate a cause for tears as for
prayers. When the prayer w