thinks you had better be careful in your conversation, and not
   let her know what prices are, or else she will get spoiled, and go
   to raising her price--these sewing-women are so selfish. When
   Marie St. Clare has the misfortune to live in a free State, there
   is no end to her troubles. Her cook is always going off for
   better wages and more comfortable quarters; her chambermaid,
   strangely enough, won't agree to be chambermaid and seam-
   stress both for half wages, and so she deserts. Marie's kitchen-
   cabinet, therefore, is always in a state of revolution; and she
   often declares, with affected earnestness, that servants are the
   torment of her life. If her husband endeavour to remonstrate,
   or suggest another mode of treatment, he is a hard-hearted, un-
   feeling man; “he doesn't love her, and she always knew he
   didn't;” and so he is disposed of.
   But when Marie comes under a system of laws which gives
   her absolute control over her dependants, which enables her
   to separate them, at her pleasure, from their dearest family
   connexions, or to inflict upon them the most disgraceful and
   violent punishments, without even the restraint which seeing
   the execution might possibly produce--then it is that the
   character arrives at full maturity. Human nature is no worse
   at the South than at the North; but law at the South distinctly
   provides for and protects the worst abuses to which that nature
   is liable.
   It is often supposed that domestic servitude in slave-states
   is a kind of paradise; that house-servants are invariably pets;
   that young mistresses are always fond of their “mammies,” and
   young masters always handsome, good-natured, and indulgent.
   Let anyone in Old England or New England look about
   among their immediate acquaintances, and ask how many there
   are who would use absolute despotic power amiably in a family,
   especially over a class degraded by servitude, ignorant, indolent,
   deceitful, provoking, as slaves almost necessarily are, and always
   must be.
   Let them look into their own hearts, and ask themselves
   if they would dare to be trusted with such a power. Do they
   not find in themselves temptations to be unjust to those who
   are inferiors and dependants? Do they not find themselves
   tempted to be irritable and provoked, when the service of their
   families is negligently performed? And if they had the power
   to inflict cruel punishments, or to have them inflicted by
   sending the servant out to some place of correction, would they
   not be tempted to use that liberty?
   With regard to those degrading punishments to which females
   are subjected, by being sent to professional whippers, or by
   having such functionaries sent for to the house--as John
   Caphart testifies that he has often been in Baltimore--what
   can be said of their influence both on the superior and on the
   inferior class? It is very painful indeed to contemplate this
   subject. The mind instinctively shrinks from it; but still it
   is a very serious question whether it be not our duty to
   encounter this pain, that our sympathies may be quickened
   into more active exercise. For this reason we give here the
   testimony of a gentleman whose accuracy will not be doubted,
   and who subjected himself to the pain of being an eye-witness
   to a scene of this kind in the calaboose in New Orleans. As
   the reader will perceive from the account, it was a scene of such
   every-day occurrence as not to excite any particular remark, or
   any expression of sympathy from those of the same condition
   and colour with the sufferer.
   When our missionaries first went to India, it was esteemed a
   duty among Christian nations to make themselves acquainted
   with the cruelties and atrocities of idolatrous worship, as a means
   of quickening our zeal to send them the gospel.
   If it be said that we in the free States have no such interest
   in slavery, as we do not support it, and have no power to prevent
   it, it is replied that slavery does exist in the district of Columbia,
   which belongs to the whole United States; and that the free
   States are, before God, guilty of the crime of continuing it there,
   unless they will honestly do what in them lies for its extermi-
   nation.
   The subjoined account was written by the benevolent Dr.
   Howe, whose labours in behalf of the blind have rendered his
   name dear to humanity, and was sent in a letter to the Hon.
   Charles Summer. If anyone think it too painful to be perused,
   let him ask himself if God will hold those guiltless who suffer a
   system to continue, the details of which they cannot even read.
   That this describes a common scene in the calaboose we shall by
   and by produce other witnesses to show.
   I have passed ten days in New Orleans, not unprofitably, I trust, in examining
   the public institutions--the schools, asylums, hospitals, prisons, &c. With the
   exception of the first, there is little hope of amelioration. I know not how much
   merit there may be in their system; but I do know that, in the administration of
   the penal code, there are abominations which should bring down the fate of
   Sodom upon the city. If Howard or Mrs. Fry ever discovered so ill-administered
   a den of thieves as the New Orleans prison, they never described it. In the
   negroes' apartment I saw much which made me blush that I was a white man,
   and which, for a moment, stirred up an evil spirit in my animal nature. Entering
   a large paved court-yard, around which ran galleries filled with slaves of all ages,
   sexes, and colours, I heard the snap of a whip, every stroke of which sounded
   like the sharp crack of a pistol. I turned my head, and beheld a sight which
   absolutely chilled me to the marrow of my bones, and gave me, for the first time
   in my life, the sensation of my hair stiffening at the roots. There lay a black
   girl flat upon her face, on a board, her two thumbs tied, and fastened to one end, her
   feet tied and drawn tightly to the other end, while a strap passed over the small
   of her back, and, fastened around the board, compressed her closely to it. Below
   the strap she was entirely naked. By her side, and six feet off, stood a huge
   negro, with a long whip, which he applied with dreadful power and wonderful
   precision. Every stroke brought away a strip of skin, which clung to the lash, or
   fell quivering on the pavement, while the blood followed after it. The poor crea-
   ture writhed and shrieked, and, in a voice which showed alike her fear of death
   and her dreadful agony, screamed to her master who stood at her head, “Oh, spare
   my life! don't cut my soul out!” But still fell the horrid lash; till strip after
   strip peeled off from the skin; gash after gash was cut in her living flesh, until it
   became a livid and bloody mass of raw and quivering muscle. It was with the
   greatest difficulty I refrained from springing upon the torturer, and arresting his
   lash; but, alas! what could I do, but turn aside to hide my tears for the sufferer,
   and my blushes for humanity? This was in a public and regularly-organised
					     					 			/>   prison; the punishment was one recognised and authorised by the law. But think
   you the poor wretch had committed a heinous offence, and had been convicted
   thereof, and sentenced to the lash? Not at all. She was brought by her master
   to be whipped by the common executioner, without trial, judge or jury, just at his
   beck or nod, for some real or supposed offence, or to gratify his own whim or
   malice. And he may bring he, after day, without cause assigned, and inflict
   any number of lashes he pleases, short of twenty-five, provided only he pays the
   fee. Or, if he choose, he may have a private whipping-board on his own pre-
   mises, and brutalise himself there. A shocking part of this horrid punishment
   was its publicity, as I have said; it was in a court-yard surrounded by galleries,
   which were filled with coloured persons of all sexes--runaways, slaves committed
   for some crime, or slaves up for sale. You would naturally suppose they crowded
   forward, and gazed, horror-stricken, at the brutal spectacle below; but they did
   not; many of them hardly noticed it, and many were entirely indifferent to it.
   They went on in their childish pursuits, and some were laughing outright in the
   distant parts of the galleries; so low can man, created in God's image, be sunk in
   brutality.
   CHAPTER IX.
   ST. CLARE.
   It is with pleasure that we turn from the dark picture just
   presented, to the character of the generous and noble-hearted
   St. Clare, wherein the fairest picture of our Southern brother is
   presented.
   It has been the writer's object to separate carefully, as far as
   possible, the system from the men. It is her sincere belief that,
   while the irresponsible power of slavery is such that no human
   being ought ever to possess it, probably that power was never
   exercised more leniently than in many cases in the Southern
   States. She has been astonished to see how, under all the dis-
   advantages which attend the early possession of arbitrary power,
   all the temptations which every reflecting mind must see will
   arise from the possession of this power in various forms, there are
   often developed such fine and interesting traits of character. To
   say that these cases are common, alas! is not in our power. Men
   know human nature too well to believe us if we should. But
   the more dreadful the evil to be assailed, the more careful should
   we be to be just in our apprehensions, and to balance the horror
   which certain abuses must necessarily excite, by a consideration
   of those excellent and redeeming traits which are often found in
   individuals connected with the system.
   The twin brothers, Alfred and Augustine St. Clare, represent
   two classes of men which are to be found in all countries. They
   are the radically aristocratic and democratic men. The aristocrat
   by position is not always the aristocrat by nature, and vice versâ; but the aristocrat by nature, whether he be in a higher or lower
   position in society, is he who, though he may be just, generous,
   and humane, to those whom he considers his equals, is entirely
   insensible to the wants and sufferings, and common humanity of
   those whom he considers the lower orders. The sufferings of a
   countess would make him weep, the sufferings of a seamstress
   are quite another matter.
   On the other hand, the democrat is often found in the highest
   position of life. To this man, superiority to his brother is a
   thing which he can never boldly and nakedly assert without a
   secret pain. In the lowest and humblest walk of life, he ac-
   knowledges the sacredness of a common humanity; and however
   degraded by the opinions and institutions of society any par-
   ticular class may be, there is an instinctive feeling in his soul
   which teaches him that they are men of like passions with him-
   self. Such men have a penetration which at once sees through
   all the false shows of outward custom which make one man so
   dissimilar to another, to those great generic capabilities, sorrows,
   wants, and weaknesses, wherein all men and women are alike;
   and there is no such thing as making them realize that one order
   of human beings have any prescriptive right over another order,
   or that the tears and sufferings of one are not just as good as
   those of another order.
   That such men are to be found at the South in the relation of
   slave-masters, that when so found they cannot and will not be
   deluded by any of the shams and sophistry wherewith slavery
   has been defended, that they look upon it as a relic of a barbarous
   age, and utterly scorn and contemn all its apologists, we can
   abundantly show. Many of the most illustrious Southern men
   of the Revolution were of this class, and many men of distin-
   guished position of later day have entertained the same sentiments.
   Witness the following letter of Patrick Henry, the sentiments
   of which are so much an echo of those of St. Clare that the
   reader might suppose one to be a copy of the other:--
   Hanover, January 18th, 1773.
   Dear Sir,--I take this opportunity to acknowledge the recepit of Anthony
   Benezet's book against the slave-trade; I thank you for it. Is it not a little
   surprising that the professors of Christianity, whose chief excellence consists in
   softening the human heart, in cherishing and improving its finer feelings, should
   encourage a practice so totally repugnant to the first impressions of right and
   wrong? What adds to the wonder is, that this abominable practice has been
   introduced in the most enlightened ages. Times that seem to have pretensions
   to boast of high improvements in the arts and sciences, and refined morality, have
   brought into general use, and guarded by many laws, a species of violence and
   tyranny which our more rude and barbarous but more honest ancestors detested.
   Is it not amazing that at a time when the rights of humanity are defined and
   understood with precision, in a country above all others fond of liberty--that in
   such an age and in such a country we find men professing a religion the most
   mild, humane, gentle, and generous, adopting such a principle, as repugnant to
   humanity as it is inconsistent with the Bible, and destructive to liberty? Every
   thinking, honest man rejects it in speculation. How free in practice from con-
   scientious motives!
   Would anyone believe that I am master of slaves of my own purchase? I am
   drawn along by the general inconvenience of living here without them. I
   will not, I cannot justify it. However culpable my conduct, I will so far pay
   my devoir to Virtue as to own the excellence and rectitude of her precepts, and
   lament my want of conformity to them.
   I believe a time will come when an opportunity will be offered to abolish this
   lamentable evil. Everything we can do is to improve it, if it happens in our
   day; if not, let us transmit to our descendants, together with our slaves, a pity
   for their unhappy lot, and an abhorrence for slavery. If we cannot reduce this
   wished-for reformation to practice, let us treat the unhappy victims with lenity.
   It is the furthest advance we can make towards justice. It is a de 
					     					 			bt we owe to
   the purity of our religion, to show that it is at variance with that law which
   warrants slavery.
   I know not when to stop. I could say many things on the subject, a serious
   view of which gives a gloomy prospect to future times!
   What a sorrowful thing it is that such men live an inglorious
   life, drawn along by the general current of society, when they
   ought to be its regenerators! Has God endowed them with
   such nobleness of soul, such clearness of perception, for
   nothing? Should they, to whom he has given superior powers
   of insight and feeling, live as all the world live?
   Southern men of this class have often risen up to reprove the
   men of the North, when they are drawn in to apologize for the
   system of slavery. Thus, on one occasion, a representative
   from one of the Northern States, a gentleman now occupying
   the very highest rank of distinction and official station, used in
   Congress the following language:--
   The great relation of servitude, in some form or other, with greater or less
   departure from the theoretic equality of men, is inseparable from our nature.
   Domestic slavery is not, in my judgment, to be set down as an immoral or
   irreligious relation. The slaves of this country are better clothed and fed than
   the peasantry of some of the most prosperous states of Europe.
   He was answered by Mr. Mitchell, of Tennessee, in these
   words:--
   Sir, I do not go the length of the gentleman from Massachusetts, and hold
   that the existence of slavery in this country is almost a blessing. On the
   contrary, I am firmly settled in the opinion that it is a great curse--one of the
   greatest that could have been interwoven in our system. I, Mr. Chairman, am
   one of those whom these poor wretches call masters. I do not task them; I
   feed and clothe them well; but yet, alas! they are slaves, and slavery is a curse
   in any shape. It is no doubt true that there are persons in Europe far more
   degraded than our slaves--worse fed, worse clothed, &c.; but, sir, this is far from
   proving that negroes ought to be slaves.
   The celebrated John Randolph, of Roanoke, said in Congress,
   on one occasion:--
   Sir, I envy neither the heart nor the head of that man from the North who
   rises here to defend slavery on principle.