Mr. C. had been a planter for thirty-six years. He has had charge of the estate on which he now resides ten years. He is the attorney for two other large estates a few miles from this, and has under his superintendence, in all, more than a thousand apprenticed laborers. This estate consists of six hundred and sixty-six acres of land, most of which is under cultivation either in cane or provisions, and has on it three hundred apprentices and ninety-two free children. The average amount of sugar raised on it is two hundred hogsheads of a ton each, but this year it will amount to at least two hundred and fifty hogsheads--the largest crop ever taken off since he has been connected with it. He has planted thirty acres additional this year. The island has never been under so good cultivation, and is becoming better every year. During our walk round the works, and during the day, he spoke several times in general terms of the great blessings of emancipation. Emancipation is as great a blessing to the master as to the slave. "Why," exclaimed Mr. C., "it was emancipation to me. I assure you the first of August brought a great, _great_ relief to me. I felt myself, for the first time, a freeman on that day. You cannot imagine the responsibilities and anxieties which were swept away with the extinction of slavery." There were many unpleasant and annoying circumstances attending slavery, which had a most pernicious effect on the master. There was continual jealousy and suspicion between him and those under him. They looked on each other as sworn enemies, and there was kept up a continual system of plotting and counterplotting. Then there was the flogging, which was a matter of course through the island. To strike a slave was as common as to strike a horse--then the punishments were inflicted so unjustly, in innumerable instances, that the poor victims knew no more why they were punished than the dead in their graves. The master would be a little ill--he had taken a cold, perhaps, and felt irritable--something were wrong--his passion was up, and away went some poor fellow to the whipping post. The slightest offence at such a moment, though it might have passed unnoticed at another time, would meet with the severest punishment. He said he himself had more than once ordered his slaves to be flogged in a passion, and after he became cool he would have given guineas not to have done it. Many a night had he been kept awake in thinking of some poor fellow whom he had shut up in the dungeon, and had rejoiced when daylight came. He feared lest the slave might die before morning; either cut his throat or dash his head against the wall in his desperation. He has known such cases to occur.