a, _in one month de free come_."

They declared that they worked a great deal better since emancipation,
because they were _paid for it_. To be sure, said they, we get very
little wages, but it is better than none. They repeated it again and
again, that men could not be made to work well by _flogging_ them, "_it
was no use to try it_."

We asked one of the men, whether he would not be willing to be a slave
again provided he was _sure_ of having a kind master. "Heigh! me massa,"
said he, "me neber slave no more. A good massa a very good ting, _but
freedom till better_." They said that it was a great blessing to them to
have their children go to school. After getting them to show us the way
to Grace Bay, we bade them good bye.

We were welcomed at Grace Bay by the missionary, and his wife, Mr. and
Mrs. Moehne.[B] The place where these missionaries reside is a beautiful
spot. Their dwelling-house and the chapel are situated on a high
promontory, almost surrounded by the sea. A range of tall hills in the
rear cuts off the view of the island, giving to the missionary station
an air of loneliness and seclusion truly impressive. In this sequestered
spot, the found Mr. and Mrs. M. living alone. They informed us that they
rarely have white visiters, but their house is the constant resort of
the negroes, who gather there after the toil of the day to 'speak' about
their souls. Mr. and Mrs. M. are wholly engrossed in their labors of
love. They find their happiness in leading their numerous flock "by the
still waters and the green pastures" of salvation. Occupied in this
delightful work, they covet not other employments, nor other company,
and desire no other earthly abode than their own little hill-embosomed,
sea-girt missionary home.

[Footnote B: Pronounced Maynuh.]

There are a thousand people belonging to the church at this station,
each of whom, the missionaries see once every month. A day school has
been lately established, and one hundred children are already in
attendance. After dinner we walked out accompanied by the missionaries
to enjoy the beautiful sunset. It is one of the few _harmless_ luxuries
of a West India climate, to go forth after the heat of the day is spent
and the sun is sinking in the sea, and enjoy the refreshing coolness of
the air. The ocean stretched before us, motionless after the turmoil of
the day, like a child which has rocked itself asleep, yet indicating by
its mighty breathings as it heaved