With the foreigner--we speak from observation--affecting love
of liberty at home, it would seem, only makes him the greater tyrant
when slavery gives him power to execute its inhuman trusts. Mr.
Lawrence M'Fadden is one of this description of persons; he will
make a fortune in the South, and live a gentleman in the North--
perhaps, at home on his own native Isle. Education he has none;
moral principle he never enjoyed,--never expects to. He is a tall,
athletic man, nearly six feet two inches in height, with extremely
broad, stooping shoulders, and always walks as if he were meditating
some speculation. His dress is usually of southern red-mixed
homespun,--a dress which he takes much pride in wearing, in
connection with a black brigand hat, which gives his broad face,
projecting cheek-bones, and blunt chin, a look of unmistakeable
sullenness. Add to this a low, narrow forehead, generally covered
with thick tufts of matted black hair, beneath which two savage eyes
incessantly glare, and, reader, you have the repulsive
personification of the man. Mr. M'Fadden has bought a preacher,--an
article with the very best kind of a soul,--which he would send to
his place in the country. Having just sent the article to the
rail-road, he stands in a neighbouring bar-room, surrounded by his
cronies, who are joining him in a social glass, discussing the
qualities of the article preacher. We are not favoured with the
point at issue; but we hear Mr. Lawrence M'Fadden say, with great
force,--"Preachers are only good property under certain
circumstances; and if them circumstances ain't just so, it won't do
to buy 'em.
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