the south, and often has the charitable supposition checked the condemnation which was indignantly rising to my lips against these murderers of their brethren’s peace.  A little reflection, however, even without personal observation, might have convinced me that this could not be the case.  If the majority of Southerners were satisfied that slavery was contrary to their worldly fortunes, slavery would be at an end from that very moment; but the fact is—­and I have it not only from observation of my own, but from the distinct statement of some of the most intelligent southern men that I have conversed with—­the only obstacle to immediate abolition throughout the south is the immense value of the human property, and, to use the words of a very distinguished Carolinian, who thus ended a long discussion we had on the subject, ’I’ll tell you why abolition is impossible:  because every healthy negro can fetch a thousand dollars in the Charleston market at this moment.’  And this opinion, you see, tallies perfectly with the testimony of Mr. K——.

He went on to speak of several of the slaves on this estate, as persons quite remarkable for their fidelity and intelligence, instancing old Molly, Ned the engineer, who has the superintendence of the steam-engine in the rice-mill, and head-man Frank, of whom indeed, he wound up the eulogium by saying, he had quite the principles of a white man—­which I thought most equivocal praise, but he did not intend it as such.  As I was complaining to Mr. ——­ of the terribly neglected condition of the dykes, which are in some parts so overgrown with gigantic briars that ’tis really impossible to walk over them, and the trench on one hand, and river on the other, afford one extremely disagreeable alternatives.  Mr. K——­ cautioned me to be particularly on my guard not to step on the thorns of the orange tree.  These, indeed, are formidable spikes, and he assured me, were peculiarly poisonous to the flesh.  Some of the most painful and tedious wounds he had ever seen, he said, were incurred by the negroes running these large green thorns into their feet.

This led him to speak of the glory and beauty of the orange trees on the island, before a certain uncommonly severe winter, a few years ago, destroyed them all.  For five miles round the banks grew a double row of noble orange trees, as large as our orchard apple trees, covered with golden fruit, and silver flowers.  It must have been a most magnificent spectacle, and Captain F——­, too, told me, in speaking of it, that he had brought Basil Hall here in the season of the trees blossoming, and he had said it was as well worth crossing the Atlantic to see that, as to see the Niagara.  Of all these noble trees nothing now remains but the roots, which bear witness to their size, and some young sprouts shooting up, affording some hope that, in the course of years, the island may wear its bridal garland again.  One huge stump close to the door is all that remains