A Colored Man Round the World

goods, and making my way along a street that might be termed, from its appearance, “The street of cemeteries.” This street is in Liverpool, and is a mercantile street in every sense of the wo

outherners are too much addicted to. I mean to say, that I, a Southerner, judge too much by appearance, instead of experience. I had been taught at Orleans that the “English could whip all the world, and we could whip the English,” and that England was always in great danger of being starved by us, and all her manufactories stopped in double quick time by Southern cotton-planters. But, the greatest absurdity of all was, that England was very much afraid that we would declare war against her, and thereby ruin what little independence she still retains. I, under this dispensation of knowledge, looked around to see the towering of a “St. Charles or Verandah,” but when I saw a house looking like all the rest, I came to the conclusion that

white apron adorned her short, neat dress. A man is a good deal like a dog in some particulars. He may be uncommonly savage in his nature, and as soon as he sees his sexual mate, his attention is manifested in the twinkling of an eye. She looked so neat, I thought it good policy to be polite, and become acquainted. Having finished m

she. I descended and found a good dinner, after which I walked into the newsroom, where I found several of the merchants of Liverpool assembled to read and discuss the prevailing topics of interest. Seated close to a table on which was the London Times, New York Tribune and Herald, the French Journal, called the Moniteur, besides several other Journals of lesser note, was a noble looking gentleman. On the other side of this feast of news was another noble and intellectual looking gentleman. These were noblemen from different parts of England. They were quietly discussing the weak points in American policy. One held that if the negroes of the Southern States were fit for freedom, it would be an easy matter fo

ng, for the fact was, I had no clothes—they were in the Custom House. Here Mary began to show more familiarity than I had ever shown, but she only expressed enough to show m

ry. It is impossible for me to do anything for myself. I have offers from nearly all parts of the Hotel, volunteering to do all that is to be done and more too.—Before I commenced packing my trunk, I went down to the Bureau (office) to have my bill made out. As I passed along the passage I saw a l

public or private houses. The landlord, saw me in the coach and wished me a happy voyage to London. When the coach moved gradually away from that small Hotel, it carried lingering thoughts of friendship and comfort. I thought of the kind attention, and obedient but commanding language of all I had seen, and the moral came home to my heart, saying “you have value received.”