om the great waters of the Altamaha. The day was very warm. It is
becoming almost too hot to remain here much longer, at least for me, who
dread and suffer from heat so much. The whole summer, however, is passed
by many members of the Georgia families on their estates by the sea. When
the heat is intense, the breeze from the ocean and the salt air, I
suppose, prevent it from being intolerable or hurtful. Our neighbour Mr.
C---- and his family reside entirely, the year round, on their plantations
here without apparently suffering in their health from the effects of the
climate. I suppose it is the intermediate region between the sea-board and
the mountains that becomes so pestilential when once the warm weather sets
in. I remember the Belgian minister, M. de ----, telling me that the
mountain country of Georgia was as beautiful as paradise, and that the
climate, as far as his experience went, was perfectly delicious. He was,
however, only there on an exploring expedition, and, of course, took the
most favourable season of the year for the purpose.

I have had several women with me this afternoon more or less disabled by
chronic rheumatism. Certainly, either their labour or the exposure it
entails must be very severe, for this climate is the last that ought to
engender rheumatism. This evening I had a visit from a bright young woman,
calling herself Minda, who came to beg for a little rice or sugar. I
enquired from which of the settlements she had come down, and found that
she has to walk three miles every day to and from her work. She made no
complaint whatever of this, and seemed to think her laborious tramp down
to the Point after her day of labour on the field well-rewarded by the
pittance of rice and sugar she obtained. Perhaps she consoled herself for
the exertion by the reflection which occurred to me while talking to her,
that many women who have borne children, and many women with child, go the
same distance to and from their task ground--that seems dreadful!

I have let my letter lie from a stress of small interruptions. Yesterday,
Sunday 3rd, old Auber, a stooping, halting hag, came to beg for flannel
and rice. As usual, of course, I asked various questions concerning her
condition, family, &c.; she told me she had never been married, but had
had five children, two of whom were dead. She complained of flooding, of
intolerable back-ache, and said that with all these ailments, she
considered herself quite recovere