While on our way to get the remainder of our baggage from the ship, we came upon a street in which a long row, or rather several rows, of black and coloured people were exposed in the open air (and under a smiling sun) for sale!  There must have been from 70 to 100, all young people, varying from 15 to 30 years of age.  All (both men and women) were well dressed, to set them off to the best advantage, as is always the case at these sales.  Several of the coloured girls—­evidently the daughters of white men—­had their sewing-work with them, as evidence of their skill in that department.  The whole were arranged under a kind of verandah, having a foot-bench (about six inches high) to stand upon, and their backs resting against the wall.  None were in any way tied or chained; but two white men ("soul-drivers,” I suppose) were sauntering about in front of them, each with a cigar in his mouth, a whip under his arm, and his hands in his pockets, looking out for purchasers.  In its external aspect, the exhibition was not altogether unlike what I have sometimes seen in England, when some wandering Italian has ranged against a wall his bronzed figures of distinguished men,—­Shakspeare, Napoleon, Wellington, Nelson, &c.  It was between twelve and one in the day; but there was no crowd, not even a single boy or girl looking on,—­so common and every-day was the character of the scene.  As we moved along in front of this sable row, one of the white attendants (though my wife had hold of my arm) said to me, with all the nonchalance of a Smithfield cattle-drover, “Looking out for a few niggers this morning?” Never did I feel my manhood so insulted.  My indignation burned for expression.  But I endeavoured to affect indifference, and answered in a don’t-care sort of tone, “No, I am not particularly in want of any to-da—.”  I could scarcely finish the sentence.  Emotion choked my utterance.  I passed on, gazing at the troop of degraded human beings, till my eyes became so filled with tears that I was compelled to turn my face another way.  Though I anticipated such scenes, and had tried to prepare my mind for them, yet (now that they were actually before me) I was completely overcome, and was obliged to seek a place to sit down while I composed my feelings.  With what sentiments my companion beheld the scene, I will leave you to conjecture!

It was Saturday morning; and with my professional habits, I naturally thought of the many divines in that very city, who were at that moment shut up in their studies, preparing their discourses for the morrow.  I wished I had them all before me.  I could have given every one of them a text to preach upon.  I would have said, “Gentlemen, see there! and blush for your fellow-citizens.  See there! and never again talk of American liberty.  See there! and lift up your voices like so many trumpets against this enormity.  See there! and in the face of persecution, poverty, imprisonment, and (if needs be) even death itself, bear your faithful testimony, and