The articles murmur among themselves, cast longing glances at each other, meet the gaze of their purchasers, with pain and distrust brooding over their countenances.  They would seem to trace the character-cruel or gentle-of each in his look.

Was it that God ordained one man thus to doom another?  No! the very thought repulsed the plea.  He never made one man’s life to be sorrow and fear-to be the basest object, upon which blighting strife for gold fills the passions of tyrants.  He never made man to be a dealer in his own kind.  He never made man after his own image to imprecate the wrath of heaven by blackening earth with his foul deeds.  He never made man to blacken this fair portion of earth with storms of contention, nor to overthrow the principles that gave it greatness.  He never made man to fill the cup that makes the grim oppressor fierce in his triumphs over right.

Come reader-come with us:  let us look around the pale of these common man shambles.  Here a venerable father sits, a bale of merchandise, moved with the quick pulsation of human senses.  He looks around him as the storm of resentment seems ready to burst forth:  his wrinkled brow and haggard face in vain ask for sympathy.  A little further on, and a mother leans over her child,—­tremblingly draws it to her side; presses it nearer and nearer to her bosom.  Near her, feeding a child with crumbs of bread, is a coarse negro, whose rough exterior covers a good heart.  He gives a glance of hate and scorn at those who are soon to tear from him his nearest and dearest.  A gloomy ring of sullen faces encircle us:  hope, fear, and contempt are pictured in each countenance.  Anxious to know its doom, the pent-up soul burns madly within their breasts; no tears can quench the fire-freedom only can extinguish it.  But, what are such things? mere trifles when the soul loves only gold.  What are they to men who buy such human trifles? who buy and sell mankind, with feelings as unmoved as the virgin heart that knows no guilt?

Various are the remarks made by those who are taking a cursory view of the people; very learned in nigger nature are many; their sayings evince great profoundness.  A question seems to be the separating of wenches from their young ’uns.  This is soon settled.  Graspum, who has made his appearance, and is very quaintly and slowly making his apprehensions known, informs the doubting spectators that Romescos, being well skilled, will do that little affair right up for a mere trifle.  It takes him to bring the nonsense out of nigger wenches.  This statement being quite satisfactory, the gentlemen purchasers are at rest on that point.