On embarking on the “Anglo-Saxon,” we found that we could not get off that night, and therefore made ourselves comfortable on board till morning.

February 9.—­This morning, while the boat was being got ready, hawkers of light literature flocked on board.  Baskets full of trashy novels were continually offered to us.  Why should not the same facilities be afforded for obtaining better publications?  Truly, “the children of this world are wiser in their generation than the children of light.”  This reproach is not peculiar to Americans.  Why should there not be in England the same facilities for obtaining publications of real value and utility, as for obtaining works of mere amusement, if not something worse?

At noon our engine began to puff, and our paddles to move.  The “crescent city” soon vanished in the distance, not, however, till we had enjoyed a striking view of it, and especially of the harbour.  An area of many acres, covered with a grotesque variety of flat boats, keel boats, and water craft of every description, that had floated down from the valley above, lined the upper part of the shore.  Steam-boats, rounding to, or (like our own) sweeping away, cast long horizontal streams of smoke behind them; while barques and brigs, schooners and sloops, ranged below each other in order of size, and showing a forest of masts, occupied the wharfs.  These and a thousand other objects, seen as they were under a brilliant sun, presented a picture of surpassing splendour; but the curse and blight of slavery were upon it!

Being now fairly under weigh, let me glance at a New Orleans paper of this morning, which I bought from one of the hawkers.  How consoling the following paragraph!

“STEAM-BOAT EXPLOSION.—­Captain Duncan, of the ‘Swan,’ reports that the tow-boat, ‘Daniel Webster,’ burst her larboard boiler on the 6th instant, while towing in a vessel over the South-west Bar.  Mr. William Taylor, one of the Balize pilots, and one of the firemen were instantly killed.  The rest of the crew of the ‘Daniel Webster’ were slightly scalded.”

These explosions are of daily occurrence; and though we had a fresh boat, and good steady men to manage it, our feeling of security was very small.

The six following advertisements I found in succession in the same paper, besides many more of a like character interspersed throughout the sheet.  How manly and how mysterious is the first!

“To PLANTERS—­For Sale, a splendid Virginia woman-servant, thirty years old, who has been in this country twenty-four years; speaks French and English; good cook, washer, and ironer, and has kept store.  She is of a strong constitution; has never been sick, and never had a child.  She is for sale for no fault, but on account of domestic trouble. She is not for sale for any one in this city.  No one but a planter need apply.  For particulars apply at No. 189, Common-street.

“F 9—­t.”