There is a broad hall, situated in one of the most frequented streets of a large and well-known city in the South. You will be astonished when you shall find, in place of a lion’s den or a man-trap, a nicely-fitted up refreshing-place. Nothing formidable is presented to your eyes. Several corpulent and richly dressed gentlemen are helping themselves to fine liquors and delicacies, profusely spread out before you, and placed upon an elegantly shaped bar. Beautiful pictures, ornamenting the walls, attract the eyes of some amateurs of art; while others, preferring nice lots and buildings, are studying the designs of several large maps, showing various city lots and splendid buildings, advertised ‘for sale at auction.’ In the vicinity of said maps is a platform, whereupon a table is placed, together with a writing-desk and a few chairs. Two colored waiters are busy placing several hundred commodious chairs, facing the platform. The doors of the hall open frequently, for there are many gentlemen entering, and soon is gathered a large assemblage, by whom the chairs are occupied. There you will see the elegantly dressed dandy, smoking his sweet-scented Havana, while examining, through his richly gilded eye-glass, the designs of building lots. Next to his chair you will perceive and admire the athletic form of a Kentucky trader, with his plain frock, and with his boots reaching over his knees. There you will also see the rich and proud planter from Mississippi, reasoning with his fierce-looking, but now, before his employer, creeping overseer. The doors are opened again. Four ladies, splendidly dressed in black silk and satin, and glittering with precious jewels, are entering the hall. Eight or ten gentlemen, who were already comfortably seated next to the platform, jump up from their chairs, and politely offer their seats to the fair guests. But, you will ask, for what reason is all this going on? What are the ladies and gentlemen waiting for? Perhaps it is court-day, and the people are waiting for the Judge. It cannot be, for the court-house is opposite the Square. Is it perhaps a prayer-meeting? Pshaw! Prayer-meeting and liquor-bar--would that do? But what can it be? Who is that jolly round gentleman, placing a large book upon the writing-desk, and looking like a bird which has never seen a cage, but which has its three meals per diem in the middle of a ripe wheat field? Is it not a pleasure to take a glance at his face, radiant with contentment and plenty? If that man were a pastor, should we not like to pasture with his flock? See there! he hands now to the waiters a large package of bills. We shall soon learn what kind of a concern all this is. It will be, most probably, neither a session of a court, nor a prayer-meeting. A SLAVE AUCTION! Great God in heaven! a SLAVE AUCTION! And that man upon the platform is the auctioneer!