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1852.]
it the claim to an integrity approaching
the perfect holiness of the saints.
To keep up with the story, it is neces
sary that we should now turn to the for
tunes of George Harris. This remark
able mulatto, who unites the genius of
an Arkwright to the person of an Anti
nous, shortly before Eliza’s hegira, had in
curred the displeasure of his master for
having invented “a machine for the
cleaning of hemp,” which displayed as
much talent, we are told, as Whitnev’s
cotton-gin. George was hired by the
proprietor of a large bagging factory,
where he was “considered the first hand
in the place,” and was greatly caressed.
His owner, however, cannot brook the
crime of invention, and accordingly he
takes George from the factory, and seeks
to humble his proud spirit in the per
formance of the most degrading offices.
As well might he hope to humble a Plan
tagenet or a Pottowattomy. George
runs off, bids adieu to Eliza and the boy
who are yet on the Shelby estate, dis
guises himself with the help of a little
walnut bark and hair-dye, as a Spanish
grandee of the sangre azula , and with
two pistols and a bowie knife under his
waistcoat, travels leisurely, in his own
conveyance, to the border line of the free
states, actually stopping to read, in a ta
vern by the wayside, the handbill in
which the reward of four hundred dollars
has been offered for his recovery, or, as
usual, “ for satisfactory proof that he had
been killed.” If any one portion of Mrs.
Stowe’s book is more silly than another,
it is this account of George’s escape. The
most embruted wretch that ever “ wol
loped ” his negro, like his donkey, even
without the provocation that he “would
not go,” could not have acted like George’s
master. George, at the factory, where
his genius might be brought into exer
cise, was worth to his owner five times as
much as he could have been on the plan
tation, and it is a little the most impro
bable thing in the world that the owner
would have sacrificed his pecuniary inter
est with no other motive than a humilia
ting sense of his negro’s mental superi
ority. But Mrs. Stowe convicts herself
of an utter ignorance of the Law of Con
; tracts, as it affects Slavery in the South,
in making George’s master take him
; from the factory against the proprietor’s
consent. George, by virtue of the con
tract of hiring had become the property
| of the proprietor for the time being, and
his master could no more have taken
j him away forcibly, than the owner of a
; house in Massachusetts can dispossess
his lessee, at any moment, from mere
whim or caprice. There is no court in
Kentucky where the hirer’s rights, in this
regard, would not be enforced. As for
the details of the escape —the Spanish
disguise, the pistols and bowie-knife, the
SOUTHERN LITERARY GAZETTE.
easy nonchalance of the principal per
former, et cetera , they would not go down
as part and parcel of the burnt-cork me
lodrama of the Bowery.
While George was playing this mag
nificent part, Eliza had, as we have al
ready described, succeeded in reaching a
temporary place among the Quakers.
These w’orthy people live, it seems, in In
diana. To their village, by a lucky ac
cident comes George, and a happy re
union of parents and child takes place.
But the fugitives are not yet beyond the
reach of danger. For Loker and his
myrmidons are upon their track, pre
pared to identify them as slaves. It is
necessary, therefore, to push on to Cana
da. On the way they are overtaken. A
struggle ensues between the two parties,
in which Loker is shot by George Har
ris. The rest of the pursuers fly, and the
heroic mulatto proceeds without further
difficulty, until he sets foot, with Eliza
and the child, upon the Canadian shore of
Lake Erie. The triumph of innocence is
complete.
Having disposed of the Harrises, we
have now to direct our attention to Un
cle Tom. It is a sad day at Mr. Shel
by’s when Haley returns from his inef
fectual pursuit of Eliza, to take away the
negro manager from the old plantation.
Mr. Shelby has gone oft'to avoid the dis
agreeable scene of the departure; Old
Chloe, Uncle Tom’s wife, and the pica
ninnies mingle their tears with those of
Mrs. Shelby ; the w hole establishment
wears an air of the deepest gloom —two
persons of all seem unaffected, the pur
chaser and the purchased. Ilaley, steel
ed against the promptings of pity, and
Uncle Tom himself, lifted by a noble re
signation to the will of Providence far
above the weakness of despondency, are
equal to the occasion. The manacles are
put on, and Tom is whirled away. A
mile from the house they meet young
George Shelby, the son of Uncle Tom’s
former master, who has been absent for
a few days. Tom gives some parting ad
vice, with his blessing to George, aud
George, with generous fervour, promises
to redeem Tom at some future day, and
the interview terminates. Without oth
er incident that we need mention, Haley
reaches La Belle Revicre and embarks
with Uncle Tom upon its waters, in a
steamer bearing the beautiful French
name of the stream itself.
We think it well here to advert to a
prominent fault of Mrs. Stowe’s produc
tion, because it is exhibited as conspicu
ously, perhaps, in the earlier chapters as
anywhere else. It lies in the cruel dis
parity, both intellectual and physical,
which our authoress makes between the
white and black races, to the prejudice ot
the former. The negro under her brush
invariably becomes handsome in person
or character, or in both, and not one fig
ures in Uncle Tom’s Cabin, no matter
how benighted or besotted his condition,
who does not ultimately get to heaven.
But while Mrs. Stowe can thus “ see He
len’s beauty in a brow of Egypt,” she is
unable to look upon a white face without
tracing in it something sinister and re
pulsive. The fairest of her Southern la
dies retain some ugly marks of their de
scent troru the erring mother of our race,
Some flowers of Eden they still inherit,
But the trail of the serpent is over them all.
The white villains she describes are
villains indeed. Dante fell into some
rather bad company when he descended
with Virgil into the realms of the lost,
but the demons of the Inferno are amia
ble and well-behaved gentleman in com
parison wuth Marks and Loker. On the
other hand, Beatrice, soaring to the lofti
est the glorified, is but a com
mon-place damsel by the side of Eliza.
See with what Titianesque touches she is
represented to us. The “ rich, full, dark
eye with its long lashesthe “ ripples
of silky black hairthe “ delicately
formed hand” and “trim foot and an
kle j” “ the dress of the neatest fit,” set
ting off to advantage “ her finely mould
ed shape,”—all these make up a picture
the effect of which is heightened by the
assurance that the original possesses
“ that peculiar air of refinement, that
softness of voice and manner, which
seems in many cases to be a particular
gift to the quadroon and mulatto woman”
As for Uncle Tom, he is an epitome of
the cardinal virtues, a sort of ebony St.
Paul undergoing the perils, the stripes,
the watchings, and ultimately the mar
tyrdom of the Apostle, with all the Apos
tle’s meekness and fortitude, carrying a
stainless soul in an unoffending body,
and walking through much tribulation,
without a single turn from the straight
course, to the portals of the heavenly
kingdom. In person, he is finely and
powerfully made, and as manager of Mr.
Shelby’s estate his judgment and discre
tion are unparalleled in Southern agrieul
ture. Trusted w ith untold gold, he nev
er yields to the temptation of appropria
ting a piece of it to his own use. Re
sentment for injury was what Uncle Tom
had never experienced. Whiskey, the
“ peculiar wanity ” of his race, has never
passed his lips. Finally, whatsoever
things are true, whatsoever things are
honest, w hatsoever things are just, what
soever things are pure, w hatsoever things
are lovely, whatsoever things are of good
report; if there be any virtue, and if
there be any praise, all these things were
blended in Uncle Tom.
(To be continued-)
Evidence of Friendship. —Kissing
a married lady out of regard to her hus
band.
183