The absolute barbarism of a 'public opinion' which not only tolerates, but _produces_ such advertisements as this, was outdone by nothing in the dark ages. If the reader has a heart of flesh, he can feel it without help, and if he has not, comment will not create it. The total indifference of slaveholders to such a cold-blooded proposition, their utter unconsciousness of the paralysis of heart, and death of sympathy, and every feeling of common humanity, for the slave, which it reveals, is enough of itself to show that the tendency of the spirit of slaveholding is, to kill in the soul whatever it touches. It has no eyes to see, nor ears to hear, nor mind to understand, nor heart to feel for its victims as _human beings_. To show that the above indication of the savage state is not an index of individual feeling, but of 'public opinion,' it is sufficient to say, that it appears to be a standing advertisement in the Charleston Mercury, the leading political paper of South Carolina, the organ of the Honorables John C. Calhoun, Robert Barnwell Rhett, Hugh S. Legare, and others regarded as the elite of her statesmen and literati. Besides, candidates for popular favor, like the doctor who advertises for the fifty 'incurables,' take special care to conciliate, rather than outrage, 'public opinion.' Is the doctor so ignorant of 'public opinion' in his own city, that he has unwittingly committed violence upon it in his advertisement? We trow not. The same 'public opinion' which gave birth to the advertisement of Dr. Stillman, and to those of the professors in both medical institutions, founded the Charleston 'Work-House,'—a soft name for a Moloch temple dedicated to torture, and reeking with blood in the midst of the city; to which masters and mistresses send their slaves of both sexes to be stripped, tied up, and cut with the lash till the blood and mangled flesh flow to their feet, or to be beaten and bruised with the terrible paddle, or forced to climb the tread-mill till nature sinks, or to experience other nameless torments.—_See Weld's American Slavery As it Is_, p. 171. FUGITIVE'S TRIUMPH. Go, go, thou that enslav'st me, Now, now thy power is o'er; Long, long have I obeyed thee, I'm not a slave any more; No, no—oh, no! I'm a _free man_ ever more! Thou, thou brought'st me ever, Deep, deep sorrow and pain; But I have left thee forever, Nor will I serve thee again; No, no—oh, no! No, I'll not serve thee again. Tyrant! thou hast bereft me Home, friends, pleasures so sweet; Now, forever I've left thee, Thou and I never shall meet; No, no—oh, no! Thou and I never shall meet. Joys, joys, bright as the morning, Now, now, on me will pour, Hope, hope, on me is dawning, _I'm not a slave any more!_ No, no—oh, no, I'm a FREE MAN evermore!