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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