so; do
you 'spose you'll ever get to Heaven, if you got no more feelins than
that?"

"I hope," said Mr. Weston, addressing the other servants, "that you will
all take warning by this scene. An honest and respectable servant like
Bacchus, to degrade himself in this way--it gives me great pain to see it.
William," said he, addressing a son of Bacchus, who stood by the window,
"did you deliver my note to Mr. Walter?"

"Yes, sir; he says he'll come to dinner; I was on my way in to tell you,
but they was making such a fuss here."

"Very well," said Mr. Weston. "The rest of you go to bed, quietly; I am
sure there will be no more disturbance to-night."

But, what will the Abolitionist say to this scene? Where were the whip and
the cord, and other instruments of torture? Such consideration, he
contends, was never shown in the southern country. With Martin Tupper, I
say,

"Hear reason, oh! brother;
Hear reason and right."

It has been, that master and slave were friends; and if this cannot
continue, at whose door will the sin lie?

The Abolitionist says to the slave, Go! but what does he do that really
advances his interest? He says to the master, Give up thine own! but does
he offer to share in the loss? No; he would give to the Lord of that which
costs him nothing.

Should the southern country become free, should the eyes of the world see
no stain upon her escutcheon, it will not be through the efforts of these
fanatics. If white labor could be substituted for black, better were it
that she should not have this weight upon her. The emancipation of her
slaves will never be accomplished by interference or force. Good men assist
in colonizing them, and the Creator may thus intend to christianize
benighted Africa. Should this be the Divine will, oh! that from every port,
steamers were going forth, bearing our colored people to their natural
home!

CHAPTER IV.

My readers must go with me to a military station at the North, and date
back two years from the time of my story. The season must change, and
instead of summer sunsets and roses, we will bring before them three feet
of snow, and winter's bleakest winds.

Neither of these inconvenienced the company assembled in the comfortable
little parlor of Captain Moore's quarters, with a coal-grate almost as
large as the room, and curtains closely drawn over the old style windows:
Mrs. Moore was reduced to the utmost extremity of her wits to make the room
l