The negro, during his hours of respite from labour, is busied in pounding his corn; he has afterwards to bake it with what wood he can procure himself. Both in summer and winter, he must be in the fields at the first dawn of day. He carries his sorry pittance of a breakfast with him, which he eats on the spot; he is, however, scarce allowed time to digest it. His labour is suspended from noon till two, when he dines, or rather makes a supplement to his former meal. At two his labour re-commences, and he prosecutes it till dark, sometimes visited by his master, but always exposed to the menaces, blows and scourges either of a white overseer, or a black driver. The good negro, during the hours of respite allowed him, is not idle. He is busy cultivating the little lot of ground granted him, while his wife (if he has one) is preparing food for him and their children. For it is observable that in this colony, the children of the slaves are not nourished by their masters, as they are at the Antilles; their parents are charged with them, and allowed half a ration more for every child, commencing from the epoch when it is weaned. Retired at night to their huts, after having made a frugal meal, they forget their labors in the arms of their mistresses. But those who cannot obtain women (for there is a great disproportion between the numbers of the two sexes) traverse the woods in search of adventures, and often encounter those of an unpleasant nature. They frequently meet a patrole of the whites, who tie them up and flog them, and then send them home. They are very fond of tobacco; they both smoke and chew it with great relish. Nothing can be more simple than the burial of a slave; he is put into the plainest coffin, knocked together by a carpenter of his own colour, and carried unattended by mourners to the neighbouring grave-field. The most absolute democracy, however, reigns there; the planter and slave, confounded with one another, rot in conjunction. _Under ground precedency is all a jest!_ "Imperial Caesar dead, and turned to clay, "May stop some hole to keep the wind away!"--Pope.