ct. In short,
you see," said he, suddenly resuming his gay tone, "all I want is that
different things be kept in different boxes. The whole frame-work of
society, both in Europe and America, is made up of various things which
will not stand the scrutiny of any very ideal standard of morality. It's
pretty generally understood that men don't aspire after the absolute
right, but only to do about as well as the rest of the world. Now, when
any one speaks up, like a man, and says slavery is necessary to us, we
can't get along without it, we should be beggared if we give it up,
and, of course, we mean to hold on to it,--this is strong, clear,
well-defined language; it has the respectability of truth to it; and, if
we may judge by their practice, the majority of the world will bear us
out in it. But when he begins to put on a long face, and snuffle, and
quote Scripture, I incline to think he isn't much better than he should
be."

"You are very uncharitable," said Marie.

"Well," said St. Clare, "suppose that something should bring down the
price of cotton once and forever, and make the whole slave property a
drug in the market, don't you think we should soon have another version
of the Scripture doctrine? What a flood of light would pour into the
church, all at once, and how immediately it would be discovered that
everything in the Bible and reason went the other way!"

"Well, at any rate," said Marie, as she reclined herself on a lounge,
"I'm thankful I'm born where slavery exists; and I believe it's
right,--indeed, I feel it must be; and, at any rate, I'm sure I couldn't
get along without it."

"I say, what do you think, Pussy?" said her father to Eva, who came in
at this moment, with a flower in her hand.

"What about, papa?"

"Why, which do you like the best,--to live as they do at your uncle's,
up in Vermont, or to have a house-full of servants, as we do?"

"O, of course, our way is the pleasantest," said Eva.

"Why so?" said St. Clare, stroking her head.

"Why, it makes so many more round you to love, you know," said Eva,
looking up earnestly.

"Now, that's just like Eva," said Marie; "just one of her odd speeches."

"Is it an odd speech, papa?" said Eva, whisperingly, as she got upon his
knee.

"Rather, as this world goes, Pussy," said St. Clare. "But where has my
little Eva been, all dinner-time?"

"O, I've been up in Tom's room, hearing him sing, and Aunt Dinah gave me
my dinner."

"Hearing Tom sing