om Meeting-street to the water-side, and is as well supplied
with _provisions_ as the country will permit. Compared, however, with
the markets in the towns of the northern states, the supply is very
inferior, both in quality and quantity. The beef, mutton, veal, and
pork, of South Carolina, are seldom in perfection; and the hot weather
renders it impossible to keep meat many hours after it is killed. Though
the rivers abound in a great variety of fish, yet very few are brought
to market. Oysters, however, are abundant, and are cried about the
streets by negroes. They are generally shelled, put into small pails,
which the negroes carry on their heads, and are sold, by measure, at the
rate of about eight-pence per quart. Vegetables have been cultivated, of
late years, with great success; and, of these, there is generally a
tolerable supply in the market.

In winter, the markets of Charleston are well supplied with fish, which
are brought from the northern parts of the United States, in vessels so
constructed as to keep them in a continual supply of water, and alive.
The ships, engaged in this traffic, load, in return, with rice and
cotton.

At Charleston, wood is extravagantly dear: it costs from forty to fifty
shillings a _cord_, notwithstanding forests of almost boundless extent,
commence at six miles, and even at a less distance, from the town. Hence
a great portion of the inhabitants burn coals that are brought from
England.

The pestilential marshes around Charleston yield a great abundance of
rice. It is true that no European frame could support the labour of its
cultivation; but Africa can produce slaves, and, amid contagion and
suffering, both of oppressors and oppressed, Charleston has become a
wealthy city.

* * * * *

The road from Charleston towards North Carolina, extends, for some
distance, through the districts adjacent to the sea-coast; and much of
the country is clad with bright evergreens, whence, in many places, it
appears like the shrubbery of a park. In this part of America the trees
are covered with a curious kind of vegetable drapery, which hangs from
them in long curling tendrils, of gray or pale green colour. It bears a
small blue flower, which is succeeded by a plumed seed, that adheres to
the bark of the trees. Though the bark of the oak seems to afford the
most favourite soil, it suspends itself to trees of every description;
and, as it has no tenacity, but