Chambers's Edinburgh Journal, No. 455

I am not sure about bribery and corruption. It may be a bad thing, but many seem to think otherwise. Much may be said on both sides of the question. Oh! don't tell me of a worm selling his birthright for a mess of pottage: I never read of such worms in Buffon, or even in Pliny. But if they do exist in the human form, the baseness consists in the sale, not in the quid pro quo. A mess of pottage in itself is a very good thing—I should say, a very respectable thing; and no exchange can take away from it that character. Still, if what we give for it is an heirloom, coming from our ancestors and belonging to our posterity, the transaction is shabby, and not only shabby, but dishonest. If that is proved, I don't defend the worm. Trample on him by all means—jump on him. But beware of insulting the mess of pottage, which is as respectable as when newly out of the pot. Fancy the sale to have been effected by means of some other equivalent: and that, by the way, is just what puzzles me. There are numerous other equivalents, not a whit more respectable in themselves—many far less so—which not only escape all objurgation, but serve to lift the identical transaction out of the category of basenesses. This confuses a brain like mine, even to the length of doubting whether there is any harm in the thing at all. Let us turn the question over patiently. I confess I am slow; but 'slow and sure,' you know.

Bribery and corruption is a universal element in civilised society; but let us talk in the meantime of political bribery and corruption. It is the theory of the law—if the law really has a theory—that in the matter of a parliamentary canvass, every man, as a celebrated Irish minister expressed it, should stand upon his own bottom. By this poetical figure, Lord Londonderry meant that the man should depend upon himself, upon his own merits and character, without having recourse to any extrinsic means of working upon the judgment of others. It is likewise the theory of the law, that a man who suffers his judgment to be indirectly biassed is as bad as the other—and worse: that he is, in fact, a Worm, unfit to possess his birthright, of which he should be forthwith deprived. Well, this being premised: here is the Honourable Tom Snuffleton, who wants to represent our borough, but having neither merit nor character of any convertible kind, offers money and gin instead. The substitute is accepted; and Honourable Tom, slapping his waistcoat several times, congratulates the free and independent electors on having that day set a glorious example to the world, by thus exercising their birthright and upholding their palladium; and the affair is finished amid cheers and hiccups.

When I say, however, that the substitute is accepted, I do not mean that it is accepted by, or can be offered to the whole constituency. That would be a libel. There are many of the electors who have a soul above sovereigns, and who, if they could accomplish it, would never drink anything less than claret. These persons are ambitious of being noticed by the family of Honourable Tom. They are not hungry, but they take delight in a dinner in that quarter. They also feel intensely gratified by having their wives and daughters bowed to from the family carriage. A thousand considerations like these blind them to the absence of merit and character on the part of the candidate, and lay them open to that extrinsic influence which, according to the meaning of the law, is bribery and corruption. As for the man who takes his bribe, for the sake of convenience, in the direct, portable, and exchangeable form of a sovereign, he lays it out in any pleasure or distinction he, on his part, has a fancy for. If he is a dissolute person, he spends it in the public-house; if he is a proper-behaved husband, he gives his wife a new gown; if he is a respectable, serious individual, he devotes it to the conversion of the Wid-a-wak tribe in Central Africa, and gloats upon the name of John Higgins in the subscription-list. In whichever way, however, he may seek to gratify himself, he is neither better nor worse, so far as I can see, than the voter of more elegant aspirations: they have both been bribed; they are both corrupt; they have both sold their birthright.

This is a homely way of viewing the question, but it suffices. If we inquire into the motives of a hundred electors, we shall not find ten of them free from some alloy of self-interest, direct or indirect. In cases where the candidates are all equally good, equally bad, or equally indifferent, there may be no practical harm in this; but it is not a political but a moral question that is before us. The question is as to the bribe. If we are to be excused because of the nature of the solatium we accept, then should a thief successfully plead that it was not money he stole, but a masterpiece of Raphael. What I doubt is, whether they who have not been solely influenced by patriotic motives, have any right to cast stones at the free and independent elector who has sold his vote for a sovereign.

If the common saying be true, that 'every man has his price,' then are we all open to bribery and corruption; and the only difficulty lies in ascertaining the weak side of our nature. The distinction in this case is not between vice and virtue, but between the various positions in which we are placed. Money will do with some men; others, who would be shocked at the idea of taking money, will accept of something it has bought; others, again, who would spurn at both these, will have no objection to a snug little place for themselves or their dependents. The English, as a practical, straightforward people, take money—five to ten pounds being considered a fair thing for a vote, and no shame about it. The Scotch, as more calculating, like a situation; anything to put sons into, will do—a cadetship in India, a tide-waitership, a place in the Post-office, or a commission in the army. From a small Scotch country town, which we have in our eye, as many as fourteen lads in one year received appointments in the Excise; everybody knew what for: an election was in expectation. No money, however, being passed from hand to hand, the fathers of these said lads would look with horror on such cases of bribery as have given renown and infamy to Sudbury and St Alban's.

All men think all men sinners but themselves.

Happy this consciousness of innocence! How fortunate that we should be such a virtuous and discreet people! And thus does one's very notions of what is right become a marketable article. Where neither money nor place is wanted, a gracious look and an invitation to dinner may have quite a telling effect. In fact, the more refined men have become, through the action of circumstances, such as education and position, the more abstracted and attenuated is the equivalent they demand for their virtue; till we reach the highest grade of all, whose noble natures, as they are called, can be seduced only by affection and gratitude. Now observe: in all these cases the thing is the same, whether it be crime we have been tempted to commit, or mere illegality; the only distinction lies in the value of the quid pro quo. But is there a distinction even in that? I doubt the fact. I don't say there is none, but I doubt it. Value is entirely arbitrary. One man, at the lower end of the scale, sins for the sake of a pound; and another, at the higher end, does the same thing for the sake of a kindness. The two men place the same value on their several equivalents, and each finds his own irresistible. Are they not both equally guilty?

That a refined man is better than a coarse one, I admit. He is pleasanter, and not only so, but safer. We know his virtue to be secure from a thousand temptations before which meaner natures fall; and to a large extent, therefore, we feel him to be worthy of our trust. He will not betray us for a pound, or a dinner, or a place, or a coaxing word, or a condescending bow: but we must not go too far with him for all that. He has his price as surely as the meanest of his fellows; and let him only come in the way of a temptation he values as highly as the other values his miserable pound, and down he goes! Refined natures, therefore, are only comparatively trustworthy; and, however estimable or admirable they may be under other circumstances, when they do fail they are as guilty as the rest. It is a bad thing altogether, bribery and corruption is; and I don't object to your putting it down when it takes that material form of money you can so readily get hold of. But what I hate is the cant that is canted about it by those who have not even the virtue to take their equivalent on the sly. For it is a remarkable thing, that when this does not come in a material shape, such as you can count or handle, it is looked upon by the bribee as no bribe at all! Nay, in some cases he will glory in his crime, as if it were a virtue; and in all cases he will turn round upon his fellow-criminal—him of the vulgar sort—call him a worm, and throw that mess of pottage at him! This refined evil-doer may be as energetic as he pleases in his actions, but it would be well if he were a little more quiet in his words. If he looks within, he will find that the distinction on which he prides himself is wholly superficial; and that such language is very unbecoming the lips of one who might more truly, as well as more politely, say to corruption, thou art my father, and to the worm, thou art my mother and my sister.

The main cause of such anomalies I take to be, that there is among us a general want of earnestness. We do not believe in ourselves, or our duties, or our destinies. Our life has no theory, and we care only for outward forms and symbols. Our taste is shocked by the grossness of vice, but we have no quarrel with the thing itself; and if the people around us will only preserve a polished, or at least inoffensive exterior, that is all we demand. Why should we look below the surface in their case, when we do no such thing in our own? We feel amiable, genteel, and refined; we detest the appearance of low impropriety, and would take a good deal of trouble to put it down; we look very kindly on the world in general, if the low people who are in it would only become as decorous as ourselves. In the old republics, the case was different. There men had a theory, even if a bad one, and they stuck to it through good report and through bad report. The theory was the spirit of the community, and its members sacrificed to it their whole individuality. No wonder that such little political unities held together as if their component parts had been welded, and that they continued to do so till they came into collision, and, from their hardness and toughness, rubbed one another out.

Put down bribery and corruption: that is fair. And more especially put down open, shameless, and brutal bribery and corruption, for its very coarseness is, in itself, an additional crime. But no reform is efficacious that does not come from within; and when refined men wage war against vulgar vices, let them look sharply to their own. I do not say, that by taking thought they will be able to do entirely away with the seductive influence of a bow, or a dinner, or a kind action; and that, in spite of these, they will do their duty with the stern resolve of an ancient Spartan. But they will be less likely to yield to temptation, and the price of their virtue will at least mount higher and higher, which is as much as we can expect of human nature. The grand benefit, however, they will derive from the inquisition, is the lesson of tolerance it will teach. They will refrain, for shame's sake, from casting stones and calling names. They will see that the only part of the offence they can notice is vulgarity and ignorance, and they will quietly try to refine the one and enlighten the other.

THE EGYPTIAN MUSEUM, LIVERPOOL

In a cross street named Colquitt Street, near a fashionable promenade of Liverpool, will be found the rich, valuable, and interesting museum which we are about briefly to describe. It is the property of Mr Joseph Mayer, F.S.A., a townsman of Liverpool, esteemed as much for his private worth as for his refined classical taste. This gentleman has been long known as a collector; and by the purchase of an entire gallery of antiquities, formed by one who travelled long in Egypt and Nubia, and visited the remains of ancient Carthage, he became possessed of a museum so extensive that his private residence could not contain them, and so rare, that the public desired to know more about them. With the view, therefore, of keeping them together, and gratifying the many who longed to acquaint themselves with these interesting relics of an interesting race, this house in Colquitt Street has been appropriated. For the purpose of meeting the current expenses of the exhibition, and enabling the proprietor to add to its contents, a very trifling charge is made for admission, and a book is kept for the autographs of the visitors.

The first room entered displays a large collection of Egyptian stelæ and other monuments, while the outer cases and sarcophagi of several mummies are placed in another apartment. The word stela means merely a memorial pillar or tombstone; and in this room the reflective mind will find much food for meditation. We have here the first elements of all religion brought visibly before us in the carvings—the recognition of a deity, and the belief in immortality. More than one of these stelæ has upon it the royal cartouch; one of them has no fewer than four of these elliptical rings with inscriptions, and two more from which the hieroglyphics have been erased. This tells a tale, for in the age commemorated, it was a mark of disgrace to have the name obliterated. Another stela contains the jackal, or genius of the departed, with propitiatory offerings from his friends. The curious will learn with interest, that another of these monuments dates back to the time of Joseph. It has twice engraved upon it the name Osortosen—perhaps the Pharaoh 'who gave him to wife Asenath, the daughter of Potiphorah, priest of On,' and raised the obelisk at Heliopolis, towns thought to be the same. Near to this is another stela of great beauty, engraved in low relief and cavo-relievo, coloured. It belongs to Manetho's sixth dynasty, and is consequently very ancient. One still more so is in the same collection: it is of the fourth dynasty of that historian—consequently, of the time when the Pyramids were built. It is beautifully executed in intaglio and relievo, with the surface polished. These stelæ, of which the collection is very rich, are composed of various rocks—such as granite, syenite, limestone, the travertino of the Italians, and sandstone.

While the tombs of Egypt have furnished these monuments, Karnac is represented by a portion of its great obelisk, and Rome has supplied a cinerary urn with cremated bones, several sepulchral tablets, and an altar.

In another room on the same floor, we find an extensive collection of pottery from the tombs of ancient Etruria, and other parts of Italy; Roman pottery found in Britain; Samian ware, and articles of that kind, from Pompeii, Carthage, and South America. The central case is overflowing with riches, containing as it does nearly six hundred Etruscan vases in terra cotta. It is a subject of doubt among the learned, whether these painted vessels, so called, are not in reality Grecian. Bossi, in his great work on Italy, claims the first manufacture for the Tuscans; but there is a strong argument in favour of their Grecian origin in the negative evidence obtained from Roman Italy, where they are not found, and the positive evidence from the Grecian subjects depicted on the pottery; besides which, the tombs of the Greek islands of the Archipelago contain them. Their not being met with in the Asiatic colonies of the Greeks may go merely to shew, that although the objects might be Grecian, the trade was Etruscan. It is well known, too, that at Athens the art of making pottery had arrived at great perfection. That the Tuscans used these as funereal vessels at a remote period, is fully established; but the custom of depositing them in sepulchres is not supposed to have originated with that people, but to have been brought by colonists from Greece Proper.

In this apartment, there are sepulchral lamps in the same material as the Etruscan vases, and idols not a few. Besides these, there are numerous Roman fibulæ (a sort of brooch) and bracelets, found at Treves, and others dug up in England. There are likewise many Roman antiquities, which have been recently met with at Hoy Lake, near Liverpool. But we must not attempt to enter into details; let us mount to the floor above, and notice the contents of the apartments there.

The first room on the second storey is the Mummy Room; and there rest, side by side, royal personages and humble individuals, male and female, who, about four thousand years ago, breathed the air of Egypt. Except by their cerements, and the inscriptions on the cases, who could tell which had been the greater?

The plan adopted for the display of these human mummies—for the Museum contains the preserved remains of the ibis and hawk, the cat, and even the dog, a rare subject for the embalmer, besides the bodies of other inferior animals—is to remove the outer case and covering, then to place the inner case upon the floor; above it, resting on supports, the body; and above that again, the lid, enclosing all within plates of glass, so that the spectator may go round the mummy, examining it in all directions, and likewise the case, within and without, on which the hieroglyphics are inscribed. Before we describe the mummies so laid out, let us explain briefly the process of embalming. Herodotus is a great authority on this matter, and we cannot do better than follow him.

In the first place, the embalmer was a medical practitioner, and legally pursued his craft. The deceased was taken to his room, and there the process of preservation was conducted; not, however, till the agreement had been made between the relatives and the embalmer as to the style and cost; for there were three methods of embalming, suitable to different ranks. This having been determined, the operator began, the relatives having previously retired. In the most expensive kind of embalming, the brain was extracted without disfiguring the head, and the intestines were removed by an incision in the side: these were separated and preserved. The body was now filled with spices—myrrh cassia, and other perfumes, frankincense excepted; and the opening was firmly closed. It was now covered with natron for seventy days; and at the expiration of that time, it was washed and swathed in linen cloth, dipped in gums and resinous substances, when it was delivered to the relatives, and by them placed in the mummy case and sarcophagus. It was finally placed perpendicularly in the apartment set apart for the dead; so that the Egyptian could view his ancestors as figured on their coffins; and with the thought that not only were their portraits there, but their bodies also—for the Egyptian was a firm believer in immortality, and piously preserved the body in a fitter state, as he thought, for reunion with the soul, than if allowed to perish by decay.

According to the second mode of embalming, no incisions were made upon the body, but absorbing injections were employed. The natron was used as before; and after the customary days were passed, the injected fluid was withdrawn, and with it came the entrails. The body was now enfolded in the cloth, and returned to the friends. This process cost twenty minæ, the other was a talent. In the third style, that adopted by the poor, the natron application was almost the only one used; the body lay for seventy days in this alkaline solution, and was then accounted fit for preservation. Sometimes the body, enveloped in the cloth, was covered with bitumen.

The most interesting mummy in this collection is that of a royal personage, Amenophis I., the most ancient of the Pharaohs whose name has yet been found. The case is richly decorated, and the name appears in three different places—that in the interior being in very large characters, in a royal cartouch. The spectator seems to hang over this mummy as if spell-bound. Can this in reality be one of the Pharaohs? Such is the question; and the inscription, thrice repeated—'Amenophis I.'—is the answer! This monarch reigned in Egypt about half a century after the exodus of the Israelites, and 3400 years ago, according to the chronology of Dr Hales; but others give a remoter period—even in the days of Joseph.

Another mummy has the face covered with gold, and the body is inscribed with the gods of the Amenti, on those regions over which they were the genii. Thus Amset, with a human head, presided over the stomach and large intestines, and was the judge of Hades; Hape, with the head of a baboon, presided over the small intestines; Soumautf, the third genius, with a jackal's head, was placed over the region of the thorax, presiding over the heart and lungs; and the last, Kebhsnauf, with the head of a hawk, presided over the gall-bladder and liver. Besides these, there are other mummies exhibiting the style of swathing peculiarly Egyptian, in contradistinction to the Græco-Egyptian, which differs from the former in having the limbs separately bandaged, instead of being placed together and enveloped in one form. There are also fragments of the human body mummied, one of which contains between the arm and shoulder a papyrus-roll. And while we are now among the mummies, we must not forget the vases called canopuses, in which the entrails and other internal organs were deposited; each bearing upon it the emblem of the genius presiding over the separately embalmed viscera. On each of these canopuses, four of which compose a set, an inscription may be seen. Thus: Amset—'I am thy son, a god, loving thee; I have come to be beside thee, causing to germinate thy head, to fabricate thee with the words of Phtah, like the brilliancy of the sun for ever.' Hape—'I have come to manifest myself beside thee, to raise thy head and arms, to reduce thy enemies, to give thee all germination for ever.' Soumautf—'I am thy son, a god, loving thee; I have come to support my father.' Kebhsnauf—'I have come to be beside thee, to subdue thy form, to submit thy limbs for thee, to lead thy heart to thee, to give it to thee in the tribunal of thy race, to germinate thy house with all the other living.'

In this apartment there are many statues, some in wood, some in stone. In one of wood there is a recess behind intended for a papyrus manuscript. There are also specimens of Egyptian Mosaic pavement, and a monumental tablet, interesting from its having a Greek inscription, while its style and figure are Egyptian—proving the continuance of the ancient manner down to the Ptolemaic dynasty.

The adjoining room contains infinitely more than we can enumerate, and, like the others, many articles not Egyptian, yet deeply interesting in themselves. The centre cases will demand our first attention; and here we have idolets and amulets innumerable; coins of the Ptolemies, Cleopatra, and others; and jewellery of all descriptions, from the golden diadem and the royal signet down to the pottery rings and glass beads worn by the poor. As might be expected in an Egyptian collection, the scarabæus, or sacred beetle, frequently meets the eye. Here are scarabæi in gold, cornelion, chalcedony, heliotrope, torquoise, lapis-lazuli, porphyry, terra cotta, and other materials; many of them having royal names and inscriptions engraved.

Two objects claim our first attention, on account not only of their value, but their associations. They are placed together in a glass-case, marked No. 3. One of them is perhaps the most ancient ring in existence, and is a magnificent signet of pure solid gold. It bears in a cartouch the royal name of Amenophis I., and has an inscription on either side. The signet is hung upon a swivel, and has hieroglyphics on what may be called the reverse. It is a large, heavy ring, weighing 1 ounce, 6 pennyweights, 12 grains, was worn on the thumb, and taken from the mummy at Memphis. It was purchased by Mr Sams at the sale of Mr Salt's collection in the year 1835, for upwards of L.50, and is highly prized by the present proprietor. Some doubt still rests upon Egyptian chronology. By certain antiquaries, this ring is supposed to have been worn by the Pharaoh who ruled over the land while Joseph was prime-minister; but others, as has been mentioned, place the reign of Amenophis I. after the departure of the Israelites.

The other is a diadem of pure gold, about seven inches in diameter, taken from the head of a mummy. In the centre, a pyramid rises with a double cartouch on one side and a single one on the other. Towards this twelve scarabæi are approaching, six on either side, emblematic of the increase and decrease of the days in the twelve months; and between these is a procession of boats, in which are deities and figures. In the inner side of this diadem the signs of the zodiac are represented.

In close proximity to these remarkable objects is another of no less interest—namely, a pair of earrings of gold, weighing each half a shekel—'And it came to pass, as the camels had done drinking, that the man took a golden earring of half a shekel weight, and two bracelets for her hands of ten shekels weight of gold; and said, Whose daughter art thou?' Such was the present to Rebekah; and here, before us, are ornaments similar probably in shape (zone-like), and exactly similar in weight!

Among the jewellery in this collection we find several valuable necklaces in gold, coral, and precious stones. Besides the Egyptian, there are some of Etruscan origin, taken from the tombs of this ancient people. We cannot leave this subject without noticing the beauty and perfection of the filigree-work, executed about 2400 years ago, and equal to modern workmanship. Some exquisite specimens from Pompeii are preserved here.

Turning now to the walls of this apartment, we find glass-cases filled with vases in terra cotta and eastern alabaster. On some of these are royal names, gilt and coloured; that of Cheops, the builder of the great Pyramid, occurs on one. Another of these vessels, or the neck part of one, is covered with cement, and sealed with three cartouches, besides having four others painted on it. This, it is thought, may have contained the precious Theban wine, sealed with the royal signet. There are many other things taken from the tombs which our space forbids us to dwell upon; such as idols and figures, papyri and phylacteries, paint-pots and colours, workman's tools, stone and wooden pillows or head-rests, and sandals; a patera with pomegranates, another with barley, the seven-eared wheat of Scripture, bread and grapes, besides other fruits and dainties which were supplied to the dead when deposited in the Theban tombs. On a tablet here we find the name of that Amenophis or Phamenoph, who is celebrated as the Memnon of the Greeks. We also find bricks as made by the Israelites, and stamped probably in accordance with the regulations of the revenue department of old Egypt. There are preserved in this and the adjoining apartments some beautiful ancient manuscripts, and an exceedingly valuable collection of books on antiquities, to which the visitor has access.

We now ascend to the upper rooms, where in one is a collection of armour, and in the other, the 'Majolica' Room, specimens of pottery, as revived in Europe in the fifteenth century by Luca Della Rubbia, who was born in 1388. He discovered the art of glazing earthenware. In the former of these rooms, all sorts of weapons and defensive apparatus are met with—modern, mediæval, and antique; some are highly finished, others very rude. In the Majolica Room, there is much matter for study, and those will fail to appreciate the value of the collection who have not learned something of the history of the ware. Here is exhibited a Madonna and Child, of about the year 1420, by Rubbia himself. It was given to Mr Mayer by the Grand Duke of Tuscany, when the medal of Roscoe was struck and presented. There are five plates, made after the patterns of the Moors, about the middle of that century, at Pessaro, near the Po; and four with portraits, marked 'Majolica Amatorii.' We find several other specimens, shewing the most curious anachronisms and blunders in design. The 'Temptation,' for example, is represented as a plate, with the drawing of a town and a Dutch church. 'Jacob's Dream,' 'Joseph and his Brethren,' 'Alexander and Darius,' 'Actæon and Diana,' and such scenes, seem to have been favourites. The specimens of 'Mezza Majolica,' with raised centres, scroll-work borders, and embossed figures, are very curious. There are two dishes, each eighteen inches in diameter, of Raffaelle ware, on one of which is 'Christ healing the Sick,' and on the other, 'Christ driving out the Money-changers.' Another, of Calabrian ware, is very curious: it is of brown clay, glazed, with four handles, and inside are the figures of two priests officiating at an altar; behind, are female figures overlooking, but concealed by latticed-work. There is one object here of local interest, and with it we bring this description to a close. It is an earthenware map of Crosby, to the north of Liverpool, made in 1716, at pottery works in Shaws-brow.

UNCLE TOM'S CABIN

STORY OF UNCLE TOM

A former paper on Mrs Stowe's remarkable book, presented a little episode, the heroine of which was Eliza, a female slave on the estate of a Mr Shelby in Kentucky. We now turn to the story of Tom himself, whose transfers from hand to hand afford the authoress an opportunity of describing the private life and feelings of slave-owners, and the unwholesome and dangerous condition of society in the south.

Tom, we have hinted, was jet black in colour, trustworthy and valued by his master, who was compelled by necessity to part with him to Haley, a slave-trader. The separation of this honest fellow from his wife Chloe, and his children, was a sad affair; but as Tom was of a hopeful temperament, and under strong religious impressions, he did not repine at the fate he was about to encounter, dreaded as that usually is by persons in his situation. 'In order to appreciate the sufferings of the negroes sold south, it must be remembered that all the instinctive affections of that race are peculiarly strong. Their local attachments are very abiding. They are not naturally daring and enterprising, but home-loving and affectionate. Add to this all the terrors with which ignorance invests the unknown, and add to this, again, that selling to the south is set before the negro from childhood as the last severity of punishment. The threat that terrifies more than whipping or torture of any kind, is the threat of being sent down river.

'A missionary among the fugitives in Canada told us, that many of the fugitives confessed themselves to have escaped from comparatively kind masters, and that they were induced to brave the perils of escape, in almost every case, by the desperate horror with which they regarded being sold south—a doom which was hanging either over themselves or their husbands, their wives or children. This nerves the African, naturally patient, timid, and unenterprising, with heroic courage, and leads him to suffer hunger, cold, pain, the perils of the wilderness, and the more dread penalties of recapture.'

After a simple repast in his rude cabin, Tom prepared to start. Chloe shut and corded his trunk, and getting up, looked gruffly on the trader who was robbing her of her husband; her tears seemingly turned to sparks of fire. Tom rose up meekly to follow his new master, and raised the box on his shoulder. His wife took the baby in her arms, to go with him as far as the wagon, and the children, crying, trailed on behind. 'A crowd of all the old and young hands in the place stood gathered around it, to bid farewell to their old associate. Tom had been looked up to, both as a head-servant and a Christian teacher, by all the place, and there was much honest sympathy and grief about him, particularly among the women. Haley whipped up the horse, and with a steady, mournful look, fixed to the last on the old place, Tom was whirled away. Mr Shelby at this time was not at home. He had sold Tom under the spur of a driving necessity, to get out of the power of a man he dreaded; and his first feeling, after the consummation of the bargain, had been that of relief. But his wife's expostulations awoke his half-slumbering regrets; and Tom's disinterestedness increased the unpleasantness of his feelings. It was in vain that he said to himself, that he had a right to do it, that everybody did it, and that some did it without even the excuse of necessity: he could not satisfy his own feelings; and that he might not witness the unpleasant scenes of the consummation, he had gone on a short business tour up the country, hoping that all would be over before he returned.'

Haley, with his property, reaches the Mississippi; and on that magnificent river, a steam-boat, piled high with bales of cotton from many a plantation, receives the party. 'Partly from confidence inspired by Mr Shelby's representations, and partly from the remarkably inoffensive and quiet character of the man, Tom had insensibly won his way far into the confidence even of such a man as Haley. At first, he had watched him narrowly through the day, and never allowed him to sleep at night unfettered; but the uncomplaining patience and apparent contentment of Tom's manner, led him gradually to discontinue these restraints; and for some time Tom had enjoyed a sort of parole of honour, being permitted to come and go freely where he pleased on the boat. Ever quiet and obliging, and more than ready to lend a hand in every emergency which occurred among the workmen below, he had won the good opinion of all the hands, and spent many hours in helping them with as hearty a good-will as ever he worked on a Kentucky farm. When there seemed to be nothing for him to do, he would climb to a nook among the cotton-bales of the upper deck, and busy himself in studying over his Bible—and it is there we see him now. For a hundred or more miles above New Orleans, the river is higher than the surrounding country, and rolls its tremendous volume between massive levees twenty feet in height. The traveller from the deck of the steamer, as from some floating castle-top, overlooks the whole country for miles and miles around. Tom, therefore, had spread out full before him, in plantation after plantation, a map of the life to which he was approaching. He saw the distant slaves at their toil; he saw afar their villages of huts gleaming out in long rows on many a plantation, distant from the stately mansions and pleasure-grounds of the master; and as the moving picture passed on, his poor foolish heart would be turning backward to the Kentucky farm, with its old shadowy beeches, to the master's house, with its wide, cool halls, and near by the little cabin, overgrown with the multiflora and bignonia. There he seemed to see familiar faces of comrades who had grown up with him from infancy: he saw his busy wife, bustling in her preparations for his evening meals; he heard the merry laugh of his boys at their play, and the chirrup of the baby at his knee, and then, with a start, all faded; and he saw again the cane-brakes and cypresses of gliding plantations, and heard again the creaking and groaning of the machinery, all telling him too plainly that all that phase of life had gone by for ever.'

An unlooked-for incident raises up a friend. 'Among the passengers on the boat was a young gentleman of fortune and family, resident in New Orleans, who bore the name of St Clare. He had with him a daughter between five and six years of age, together with a lady who seemed to claim relationship to both, and to have the little one especially under her charge. Tom had often caught glimpses of this little girl, for she was one of those busy, tripping creatures, that can be no more contained in one place than a sunbeam or a summer breeze; nor was she one that, once seen, could be easily forgotten. Her form was the perfection of childish beauty, without its usual chubbiness and squareness of outline.'

This angelic little creature was attracted by Tom's appearance; and speaking kindly to him, expressed a hope of serving him, by inducing her papa to become his purchaser. Tom had just thanked the little lady for her intentions, when the boat stopped at a landing-place. At its moving on again, Eva, who leaned imprudently on the railings, fell overboard. Tom was fortunately standing under her as she fell. 'He saw her strike the water and sink, and was after her in a moment. A broad-chested, strong-armed fellow, it was nothing for him to keep afloat in the water till, in a moment or two, the child rose to the surface, and he caught her in his arms, and, swimming with her to the boat-side, handed her up, all dripping, to the grasp of hundreds of hands, which, as if they had all belonged to one man, were stretched eagerly out to receive her. A few moments more, and her father bore her, dripping and senseless, to the ladies' cabin, where, as is usual in cases of the kind, there ensued a very well-meaning and kind-hearted strife among the female occupants generally as to who should do the most things to make a disturbance, and to hinder her recovery in every way possible.'

Next day, as the vessel approached New Orleans, Tom sat on the lower deck, with his arms folded, anxiously from time to time turning his eyes towards a group on the other side of the boat. 'There stood the fair Evangeline, a little paler than the day before, but otherwise exhibiting no traces of the accident which had befallen her. A graceful, elegantly-formed young man stood by her, carelessly leaning one elbow on a bale of cotton, while a large pocket-book lay open before him. It was quite evident, at a glance, that the gentleman was Eva's father. There was the same noble cast of head, the same large blue eyes, the same golden-brown hair; yet the expression was wholly different. In the large, clear blue eyes, though in form and colour exactly similar, there was wanting that misty, dreamy depth of expression; all was clear, bold, and bright, but with a light wholly of this world: the beautifully cut mouth had a proud and somewhat sarcastic expression, while an air of free-and-easy superiority sat not ungracefully in every turn and movement of his fine form. He was listening with a good-humoured, negligent air, half comic, half contemptuous, to Haley, who was very volubly expatiating on the quality of the article for which they were bargaining.

"All the moral and Christian virtues bound in black morocco, complete!" he said, when Haley had finished. "Well, now, my good fellow, what's the damage, as they say in Kentucky; in short, what's to be paid out for this business? How much are you going to cheat me, now? Out with it!"

"Wal," said Haley, "if I should say thirteen hundred dollars for that ar fellow, I shouldn't but just save myself—I shouldn't, now, raily."

"Papa, do buy him! it's no matter what you pay," whispered Eva softly, getting up on a package, and putting her arm around her father's neck. "You have money enough, I know. I want him."'

Tom was purchased, and paid for. 'Come, Eva,' said St Clare, as he stepped across the boat to his newly-acquired property. '"Look up, Tom, and see how you like your new master." Tom looked up. It was not in nature to look into that gay, young, handsome face without a feeling of pleasure; and Tom felt the tears start in his eyes as he said, heartily: "God bless you, mas'r!"

"Well, I hope he will. What's your name? Tom? Quite as likely to do it for your asking as mine, from all accounts. Can you drive horses, Tom?"

"I've been allays used to horses," said Tom.

"Well, I think I shall put you in coachy, on condition that you won't be drunk more than once a week, unless in cases of emergency, Tom."

'Tom looked surprised, and rather hurt, and said: "I never drink, mas'r."

"I've heard that story before, Tom; but then we'll see. It will be a special accommodation to all concerned if you don't. Never mind, my boy," he added good-humouredly, seeing Tom still looked grave; "I don't doubt you mean to do well."

"I sartin do, mas'r," said Tom.