Five hundred dollars is a fair price for a horse, or for a valuable mule. But here we can perceive neither horses nor mules, but human beings, who, without regard to color or standing, await, like us, the hour of their call from this world to the judgment seat. Those two grey heads, of very humble looking persons, have been placed upon the auction-stand or platform. For forty years they have devoted their strength to the father of their master, and to him. They have gathered forty harvests for him--yes, for him who is now selling them for $500! They brought him ten times as much as he is now getting for their worn-out bodies. No. 70. Frank Fortier, field hand, 36 years, and No. 71. Fanny, 26 years, both were sold for $1600. No. 72. James Pegram, field hand, 37 years. No. 73. Johanna, 16 years. No. 74. Cornelius, 8 years. No. 75. Jane, 7 years. No. 76. Old Maria, 60 years. Another tableau, which, if Mr. Keller, the celebrated performer of ‘living tableaux,’ should exhibit in the Academy of Music, in the Athenæum, or in some other public hall of a ‘free city,’ he would certainly take the house by storm, and every nerve of his justice and freedom-loving audience would powerfully vibrate with indignation against the cold-hearted destroyers of family-life and of human rights. Reader! imagine five persons, standing upon a platform, similar to a funeral pile erected for martyrs. Their color is darker than that of the persons sitting in front of the arena. There are eighty-three human beings, of various colors, and of different ages, bending down their heads, and looking as if they were condemned to death, and were now to be executed. Those five ‘articles for sale at auction’ consist of a father, three children, and their grandmother. Their mother has gone to bear witness, before the holy tribunal of the great Judge of the world, and to accuse the tormentors of her unfortunate people. James, a strong, intelligent-looking man, gazes in utter despair upon his youngest child, who clings to him in distress. Poor little Jane! At the youthful age of seven, thou shalt already drink the bitter cup! And Johanna! O gentle maiden of sixteen summers! How she covers her eyes with one tip of her head-cloth, grasping her trembling little brother Cornelius by the hand! And what is their father doing? He is raising his eyes--there is one flash--a terrible one! Tremble, O South! Though that slave is but one, and has no power as a single man, let others join him! Let a million of his brothers rise against their masters’ reign of terror! Let them break their chains! Then, South! it shall be too late to repent! Then thy day of judgment has come!