which, by some contraction of the skin of the forehead are so arranged as to always remain there. They are worn in its center, directly over the bridge of the noise; they are diamond- or lozenge-shaped, and, for the most part, of an emerald green. One day, whilst strolling up an avenue contiguous to the wharf, I was attracted by a crowd assembled around a walled enclosure; taking the privilege of my nation (curiosity), I elbowed my way through the mixed assemblage, and saw (“tell it not in Askalon, publish it not in Gath,”) two English auctioneers, in a country under England’s control, and governed by England’s laws, mounted on their rostrums, selling what they call in the British Isles, their fellow-men, co-equal in all respects to themselves. To say that I was surprised would convey but a faint idea of my feelings--I was really astounded. After recovering somewhat from my astonishment, I was so thoroughly convinced of the ridiculousness of England’s so often vaunted philanthropy, that, had I been in a proper place, I could have indulged in a hearty burst of laughter. As it was, I could not, without an effort, control my risibilities. This feeling soon gave way to that of indignation at the recreant sons and daughters of our own soil, who disgrace our country, after having been nursed and rocked in the cradle of liberty--as soon as they are out of their swaddling clothes, turning upon and stinging their nurse, and for the sake of political or monetary personal aggrandizement, publishing wishy-washy novels containing such perverted descriptions of our Southern slavery system, as to induce foreigners to think our boast of liberty and a free government is but a farce. Such persons do not merit being dignified by the notice of honest men, which they court; and, whether it be in the form of a favorable mention or a criticism, is all one to them, so long as it gives them publicity. As they cater for the morbid literary appetites of the sycophantic courtiers of the Old World, who are only too eager to pick holes in our beautiful and, to them, unattainable system of government, a notice, to these horror fabricators, answers all the purposes of an advertisement; so I shall bid them farewell, only exhorting Americans to cry shame on such scorpions. To return to the slave-mart. As I before said, there were two rostrums erected, on each of which an auctioneer was busily employed crying the merits of the merchandise, and eagerly soliciting a bid; both were crying the same article--the second repeating, word for word, all that his superior said in regard to the price and quality of the article put up.