family, planters of Virginia, opposed the union of the lovers, and he carried her off. Her father and brother pursued them, and overtook them in a small city. They came upon them as they sat at the table d'hôte of an hotel. Young Morris, Dr. Williams, and a young man, his friend, who had aided the lovers, fell into a dispute in the room, drew forth their pistols, exchanged shots, and the consequence of this scene was three corpses, two of which were Dr. Williams and young Morris. Old Mr. Morris returned home, taking with him the corpse of his son, and his daughter insane.
These occurrences are much talked of and deplored, but not as anything very extraordinary.
The homes in the Slave States cannot possibly cultivate and guard the child as the homes of the Free States can; they foster selfishness and those dispositions which later in life disturb their peace.
In the good and affectionate home in which I am now a guest, I see nothing but the most beautiful relationship between white and black, and have occasion afresh to admire and marvel at the musical genius of the negro-people. A young negro, who is house-servant and waits at table, sings songs as naturally as he breathes, sings even in the stomach, as a ventriloquist, and when he, during meal-times, brushes away the flies, as is usual here, with a large besom of feathers, he does it unconsciously to the tune of some melody which silently sounds in his memory.
I am now about to leave the Slave States not to return to them, neither will I again return to the subject of slavery, but here give my parting words. I do this with the wish that the noble and right-thinking men and women, whom I know are to be met with in all the Slave States of North America, would stand more determinedly forward and separate themselves from the mass, proving by word and deed that they have considered what belongs
