and upon the shore of the beautiful Ohio rises, with glittering church-spires, and surrounded by vineyards and ornamental villas, with a background of a semicircle of two hills, a large city; it is Cincinnati, the Queen of the West.
Sixty years since this city was not in existence, its first founder was living here only two years since. Now it has one hundred and twenty thousand inhabitants. That one may call growth.
Before I leave the Asia, I must cast a parting glance at Mehala, the good old negro woman, the stewardess of the vessel. She was one of those good-tempered, excellent creatures, of whom one cannot help growing fond, and endowed with a great deal of that tact and prudence which belong to the negro-race. She had had fourteen children, but had lost them all by death and slave-dealing. She knew, only for a certainty, where three of them were to be found, and that was at a great distance. She spoke sorrowfully, but without bitterness. She now belonged to a German family, who had, at her own desire, hired her out for service on the vessel, “Because,” she said, “they did not understand how to treat their servants.” All her aim and endeavour was to save sufficient to purchase her own freedom; then she could, she knew, go to her married daughter in Kentucky; and there maintain herself by washing. She had already saved a little sum. On taking leave, the excellent old woman embraced me so cordially that it did my very heart good. As a contrast to this woman was another the laundress on board, as cross and ill-tempered as the other was amiable.
The Asia had not long reached Cincinnati when a mild pale gentleman came on board and conveyed me in a carriage to the new home whither I had been invited This was the clergyman, friend, and guest of the family, and of whom I have already spoken. When the
