A pleasant passage of about thirty hours, brought us to Halifax, at six o’clock in the evening.  In company with my friend the President of the Oberlin Institute, I took a stroll through the town; and from what little I saw of the people in the streets, I am sure that the taking of the Temperance pledge would do them no injury.  Our stay at Halifax was short.  Having taken in a few sacks of coals, the mails, and a limited number of passengers, we were again out, and soon at sea.  After a pleasant run of seven days more, and as I was lying in my bed, I heard the cry of “Land a-head.”  Although our passage had been unprecedentedly short, yet I need not inform you that this news was hailed with joy by all on board.  For my own part, I was soon on deck.  Away in the distance, and on our larboard quarter, were the grey hills of Ireland.  Yes! we were in sight of the land of Emmett and O’Connell.  While I rejoiced with the other passengers at the sight of land, and the near approach to the end of the voyage, I felt low spirited, because it reminded me of the great distance I was from home.  But the experience of above twenty years’ travelling, had prepared me to undergo what most persons must lay their account with, in visiting a strange country.  This was the last day but one that we were to be on board; and as if moved by the sight of land, all seemed to be gathering their different things together—­brushing up their old clothes and putting on their new ones, as if this would bring them any sooner to the end of their journey.

The last night on board was the most pleasant, apparently, that we had experienced; probably, because it was the last.  The moon was in her meridian splendour, pouring her broad light over the calm sea; while near to us, on our starboard side, was a ship with her snow-white sails spread aloft, and stealing through the water like a thing of life.  What can present a more picturesque view, than two vessels at sea on a moonlight night, and within a few rods of each other?  With a gentle breeze, and the powerful engine at work, we seemed to be flying to the embrace of our British neighbours.

The next morning I was up before the sun, and found that we were within a few miles of Liverpool.  The taking of a pilot on board at eleven o’clock, warned us to prepare to quit our ocean palace and seek other quarters.  At a little past three o’clock, the ship cast anchor, and we were all tumbled, bag and baggage, into a small steamer, and in a few moments were at the door of the Custom-House.  The passage had only been nine days and twenty-two hours, the quickest on record at that time, yet it was long enough.  I waited nearly three hours before my name was called, and when it was, I unlocked my trunks and handed them over to one of the officers, whose dirty hands made no improvement on the work of the laundress.  First one article was taken out, and then another, till an Iron Collar that had been worn by a female slave on the banks of the Mississippi, was hauled out, and this democratic instrument of torture became the centre of attraction; so much so, that instead of going on with the examination, all hands stopped to look at the “Negro Collar.”