from hired labour. Some have done it. Riches are relative things. Capitalists, however, not working themselves, would gain more money, in a good slave state, with good negroes. He thinks that J. Ingle's land is poor, but useful. An old settler upon it, says he, never got more than twenty bushels of wheat an acre, after corn; but, if fallowed, it would bring much more; as it is, fifteen or sixteen is the average.
{308} Mr. Devan, when preaching at Mr. Ingle's, stripped at it, taking off coat, waistcoat, and cravat, unbuttoning his shirt collar, and wildly throwing about his arms. He made the maddest gesticulations, for the space of two hours, ever seen in a man professing sanity. At parting with this eccentric, warm, true-hearted man, I said, "Tell me honestly whether or not we English should emigrate hither?" "In the language of the apostle," answered he, "Be ye content with such things as ye have. Remain where providence has placed you; but send me your travels." Be not offended, friend Devan!
December 1st.—Returned to Mr. Ingle's this evening. Till within the last five days, the last month has been warmer than an English summer, the mercury varying between 65 and 72, and with the exception of the all-pervading smoke, which vanished on the first coming rain, it has been the brightest and most delightful month I ever saw. How unlike an English November! I met, and shall meet daily, at the same table, J. Pedley, a native of Sutton, near Ely, once my father's plough-boy, who, with his wife and children, has begged his way to America, and all through it, 1,200 miles, to this place. The greatly needed hospitality and kindness which they met with, in passing down the river, in a pennyless condition, are
