ow not. The scene this morning was truly distressing to
me. It was this:--_After the blessing was asked_ at the breakfast
table, one of the servants, a woman grown, in giving one of the
children some molasses, happened to pour out a little more than usual,
though not more than the child usually eats. Her master was angry at
the petty and indifferent mistake, or slip of the hand. He rose from
the table, took both of her hands in one of his, and with the other
began to beat her, first on one side of her head and then on the
other, and repeating this, till, as he said on sitting down at table,
it hurt his hand too much to continue it longer. He then took off his
_shoe_, and with the heel began in the same manner as with his hand,
till the poor creature could no longer endure it without screeches and
raising her elbow as it is natural to ward off the blows. He then
called a great overgrown negro _to hold her hands behind her_ while he
should wreak his vengeance upon the poor servant. In this position he
began again to beat the poor suffering wretch. It now became
intolerable to bear; she _fell, screaming to me for help_. After she
fell, he beat her until I thought she would have died in his hands.
She got up, however, went out and washed off the blood and came in
before we rose from table, one of the most pitiable objects I ever saw
till I came to the South. Her ears were almost as thick as my hand,
her eyes awfully blood-shotten, her lips, nose, cheeks, chin, and
whole head swollen so that no one would have known it was Etta--and
for all this, she had to turn round as she was going out and _thank
her master!_ Now, all this was done while I was sitting at breakfast
with the rest of the family. Think you not I wished myself sitting
with the peaceful and happy circle around your table? Think of my
feelings, but pity the poor negro slave, who not only fans his cruel
master when he eats and sleeps, but bears the stripes his caprice may
inflict. Think of this, and let heaven hear your prayers."

In a letter dated St. Helena Island, S.C., Dec. 3, 1832, Mr. G.
writes, "If a slave here complains to his master, that his task is too
great, his master at once calls him a scoundrel and tells him it is
only because he has not enough to do, and orders the driver to
increase his task, however unable he may be for the performance of it.
I saw TWENTY-SEVEN _whipped at one time_ just because they did not do
more, when the poor creatures were