I wish you to observe, Sir, at the start, that I have no resentments to gratify, no vengeance to wreak, no sins to compare, allegatorically. I am not rejoiced at being able to say, after some miserable deed, 'So does the alligator.' Nor do I think it necessary to impute evil from the difficulty of proving it. Such, to be sure, is the way of the world. The loftier, the more unimpeachable the character, the greater is the probability that it contain some hidden vice, some reach of horror quite worthy of concealment; and so it is, that after much sinning ourselves, (not before,) we attain to the relish of gossip, the deliciousness of scandal. A scandal proved, the excitement is over; but to imagine, to wonder, to embellish, to hover with a sneer, or a tear, as the humor happens, over a probable enormity, is the devil's own pleasure, and to a taste properly matured, said to be very delectable. It is in this manner that unthinking fathers have amused themselves and their children with stories of an animal which on _close_ acquaintance they would treat with far more respect. Pardon my gossipry, ah! kindest of Editors! while I ask if you believe in the lastingness of primary impressions? And furthermore, is a countenance pleasant or otherwise from the humor with which you regard it? Is a place forever associated with the rain or sun that falls upon it at your first acquaintance? In running over the brightest of my pleasant days at St. Augustine, and there are few links wanting in that brilliant chain, I am just now reminded of lounging one morning at the market, with mind and waistcoat thrown open to all sunny impressions, when I observed afar off a small colored gentleman, who was coming toward me with a directness of motion quite unusual to people of his class. As the morning was a little breezy and he had but one simple garment, rudiment, so to speak, between him and the outer world, I attributed his precision and firmness of step to a sense of delicacy as commendable as it is rare in those parts, and immediately resolved that I would look with a kind regard upon that individual: I would parley with him, detain him with some idle thought, while, all unknown to him, I could seize that moment to pry into his dark and mysterious nature, and if he proved modest and upright, as no doubt he would, how would I astound him with a gratuitous half-bit! Or if he resented that, (it might be,) I would have him at nine-pins; I would send him of errands; make up objectless and _boot_-less employment, if necessary, and so contrive to benefit him unawares; to cherish and sustain his high moral tone, and at some future day, (it was not impossible,) raise him to the dignity of trowsers! I would do this without casting a single shadow upon his unsophisticated nature; I would not deepen his complexion with a single blush!