te nor our pocket. Nevertheless, it is a
magnificent concern. The edifice was finished in 1838 by a company, and
cost 600,000 dollars. The gentlemen's dining-room is 129 feet by 50,
and is 22 feet high; having four ranges of tables, capable of
accommodating 500 persons. The ladies' dining-room is 52 feet by 36.
The house contains 350 rooms, furnishing accommodation for between 600
and 700 guests; and it was quite full when we were there. The front is
adorned with a projecting portico, supported by six fine Corinthian
columns, resting upon a rustic basement. The edifice is crowned with a
large dome, forty-six feet in diameter, having a beautiful Corinthian
turret on the top. This dome is the most conspicuous object in the
city. Viewed from a distance, it seems to stand in the same relation to
New Orleans as St. Paul's to London. The furniture of this immense
establishment cost 150,000 dollars. A steam-engine, producing a very
disagreeable tremor, is constantly at work in the culinary department.

While on our way to get the remainder of our baggage from the ship, we
came upon a street in which a long row, or rather several rows, of
black and coloured people were exposed in the open air (and under a
smiling sun) for sale! There must have been from 70 to 100, all young
people, varying from 15 to 30 years of age. All (both men and women)
were well dressed, to set them off to the best advantage, as is always
the case at these sales. Several of the coloured girls--evidently the
daughters of white men--had their sewing-work with them, as evidence of
their skill in that department. The whole were arranged under a kind of
verandah, having a foot-bench (about six inches high) to stand upon,
and their backs resting against the wall. None were in any way tied or
chained; but two white men ("soul-drivers," I suppose) were sauntering
about in front of them, each with a cigar in his mouth, a whip under
his arm, and his hands in his pockets, looking out for purchasers. In
its external aspect, the exhibition was not altogether unlike what I
have sometimes seen in England, when some wandering Italian has ranged
against a wall his bronzed figures of distinguished men,--Shakspeare,
Napoleon, Wellington, Nelson, &c. It was between twelve and one in the
day; but there was no crowd, not even a single boy or girl looking
on,--so common and every-day was the character of the scene. As we
moved along in front of this sable row, one of the white a