"Do sit down, my dear cousin," said Miss Janet to Mr. Weston, who was
walking up and down the drawing-room. "Here, in August, instead of being
quiet and trying to keep cool, you are fussing about, and heating yourself
so uselessly."
"I will try," said Mr. Weston, smiling, and seating himself on the sofa;
but you must recollect that for three years I have not seen my only son,
and that now he is coming home to stay. I cannot realize it; it is too much
happiness. We are so blessed, Cousin Janet, we have so much of this world's
good, I sometimes tremble lest God should intend me to have my portion
here."
"It is very wrong to feel so," said Cousin Janet; "even in this world, He
can give his beloved rest."
"But am I one of the beloved?" asked Mr. Weston, thoughtfully.
"I trust so," said Cousin Janet. "I do not doubt it. How lamentable would
be your situation and mine, if, while so near the grave, we were deprived
of that hope, which takes from it all its gloom."
"Are you talking of gloom?" said Mrs. Weston, "and Arthur within a few
miles of us? It is a poor compliment to him. I never saw so many happy
faces. The servants have all availed themselves of their afternoon's
holiday to dress; they look so respectable. Esther says they have gone to
the outer gate to welcome Arthur first; Bacchus went an hour ago. Even poor
Aunt Phillis has brightened up. She has on a head-handkerchief and apron
white as snow, and looks quite comfortable, propped up by two or three
pillows.
"Arthur will be sadly distressed to see Phillis, though he will not realize
her condition at first. The nearer her disease approaches its consummation,
the brighter she looks."
"It seems but yesterday," said Mr. Weston, "that Phillis sat at her cabin
door, with Arthur (a baby) in her arms, and her own child, almost the same
age, in the cradle near them. She has been no eye-servant. Faithfully has
she done her duty, and now she is going to receive her reward. I never can
forget the look of sympathy which was in her face, when I used to go to her
cabin to see my motherless child. She always gave Arthur the preference,
putting her own infant aside to attend to his wants. Phillis is by nature a
conscientious woman; but nothing but the grace of God could have given her
the constant and firm principle that has actuated her life. But this
example of Christian excellence will soon be taken from us; her days are
numbered. Her days _here_ are numbered; but how blessed the eternity!
Sometimes, I have almost reproached myself that I have retained a woman
like Phillis as a slave. She deserves every thing from me: I have always
felt under obligations to her."
"You have discharged them," said Mrs. Weston. "Phillis, though a slave, has
had a very happy life; she frequently says so. This is owing, in a great
measure, to her own disposition and rectitude of character. Yet she has had
every thing she needed, and a great deal more. You have nothing with which
to reproach yourself."
"I trust not," said Mr. Weston. "I have endeavored, in my dealings with my
servants, to remember the All-seeing eye was upon me, and that to Him who
placed these human beings in a dependant position, would I have to render
my account. Ah! here are the girls. Alice, we had almost forgotten Arthur;
you and Ellen remind us of him."
"Really," said Ellen, "I am very unhappy; I have no lover to expect. You
see that I am arrayed in a plain black silk, to show my chagrin because Mr.
Johnson could not come now. Alice has decked herself so that Arthur can
read her every thought at the first glance. She has on her blue barège
dress, which implies her unvarying constancy. Then--"
"I did not think of that," said Alice, blushing deeply, and looking down at
her dress; "I only--"
"Miss Alice," said Lydia, "I hears somethin."
"No, no," said Miss Janet, looking from the window, "there is nothing--"
"Deed the is," said Lydia. "Its Mas' Arthur's horse, I know."
Mr. Weston went out on the porch, and the ladies stood at the windows. The
voices of the servants could be distinctly heard. From the nature of the
sound, there was no doubt they were giving a noisy welcome to their young
master.
"He _is_ coming," said Miss Janet, much agitated; "the servants would not
make that noise were he not in sight."
"I hear the horses, too," said Ellen; "we will soon see him where the road
turns."
"There he comes," said Mrs. Weston. "It must be Arthur. William is with
him; he took a horse for Arthur to the stage house."
The father stood looking forward, the wind gently lifting the thin white
hair from his temples; his cheek flushed, his clear blue eye beaming with
delight. The horseman approached. The old man could not distinguish his
face, yet there was no mistaking his gay and gallant bearing. The spirited
and handsome animal that bore him flew over the gravelled avenue. Only a
few minutes elapsed from the time he was first seen to the moment when the
father laid his head upon his son's shoulder; and while he was clasped to
that youthful and manly heart experienced sensations of joy such as are not
often felt here.
Alice had known, too, that it was he. But when we long to be assured of
happiness, we are often slow to believe. It was not until her eyes could
distinguish every feature that her heart said, "It is Arthur." Then all was
forgotten--all timidity, all reserve--all, save that he was the dearly
loved brother of her childhood; the being with whom her destiny had long
been associated. She passed from the drawing-room to the porch as he
alighted from his horse, and when his father released him from a long
embrace, Arthur's eyes fell upon the dear and unchanged countenance, fixed
upon him with a look of welcome that said more than a thousand words.
* * * * *
"Aunt," said Arthur, a week after his return, as he sat with Mrs. Weston
and Alice in the arbor, "before you came, Alice had been trying to persuade
me that she had been in love with Walter; but I can't believe it."
"I never did believe it for a moment. She thought she was, and she was
seized with such a panic of truth and honor that she made a great
commotion; insisted on writing to you, and making a full confession; wanted
to tell her uncle, and worry him to death; doing all sorts of desperate
things. She actually worked herself into a fever. It was all a fancy."
"I have too good an opinion of myself to believe it," said Arthur.
"I am sorry," said Alice, "for it is true. It is a pity your vanity cannot
be a little diminished."
"Why, the fact is Alice, I remember Uncle Bacchus's story about General
Washington and his servant, when the general's horse fell dead, or rather
the exclamation made by the servant after relating the incident: 'Master,
_he_ thinks of everything.' I do too. When we were children, no matter how
bad Walter was, you took his part. I remember once he gave William such a
blow because he stumbled over a wagon that he had been making, and broke
it. I asked him if he were not ashamed to do so, and you said, 'Hush,
Arthur, he feels bad; if you felt as sorry as he does, you would behave
just in the same way.' So, the fact is, last summer you saw he _felt bad_,
and your tender heart inundated with sympathy."
"That was it," said Mrs. Weston; "it was a complete inundation."
"You are not in love with him now, are you, Alice?" said Arthur, smiling.
"No, indeed," said Alice, "I am not in love with him, or you either--if
being in love is what it is described in novels. I never have palpitation
of the heart, never faint away, and am not at all fond of poetry. I should
make a sad heroine, I am such a matter-of-fact person."
"So as you make a good wife," said Arthur, "no matter about being a
heroine."
"A planter's wife has little occasion for romance," said Mrs. Weston; "her
duties are too many and too important. She must care for the health and
comfort of her family, and of her servants. After all, a hundred servants
are like so many children to look after."
"Ellen would make an elegant heroine," said Alice. "She was left an orphan
when very young; had an exacting uncle and aunt; was the belle of the
metropolis; had gay and gallant lovers; is an heiress--and has fallen in
love with a man she never saw. To crown all, he is not rich, so Ellen can
give him her large fortune to show her devotion, and they can go all over
the world together, and revel in romance and novelty."
"Well," said Arthur, "I will take you all over the world if you wish it.
When will you set out, and how will you travel? If that is all you complain
of in your destiny, I can easily change it."
"I do not complain of my destiny," said Alice, gaily. "I was only
contrasting it with Ellen's. I shall be satisfied never to leave Exeter,
and my migrations need not be more extended than were Mrs. Primroses's,
'from the green room to the brown.' Poor Walter! I wish he would fall in
love with some beautiful Italian, and be as happy as we are."
"Do not fear for Walter," said Mrs. Weston. "He will take care of himself;
his last letter to Cousin Janet was very cheerful. I shall have to diminish
your vanity, Alice, by telling you Walter will never 'die for love of Alice
Weston.' He will be captivated some day with a more dashy lady, if not an
Italian countess. I have no doubt he will eventually become a resident of
Europe. A life of repentance will not be too much for a man whose hands are
stained with the blood of his fellowman. The day is past in our country,
and I rejoice to say it, when a duellist can be tolerated. I always shudder
when in the presence of one, though I never saw but one."
Mr. Weston now entered, much depressed from a recent interview with
Phillis. This faithful and honored servant was near her departure. Angels
were waiting at the throne of the Eternal, for his command to bear her
purified spirit home.
* * * * *
The master and the slave were alone. No eye save their Maker's looked upon
them; no ear save his, heard what passed between them.
Mr. Weston was seated in the easy chair, which had been removed from the
other room, and in which his wife had died.
Phillis was extended on a bed of death. Her thin hands crossed on her
bosom, her eyes fearfully bright, a hectic glow upon her cheek.
"Master," she said, "you have no occasion to feel uneasy about that. I have
never had a want, I nor the children. There was a time, sir, when I was
restless about being a slave. When I went with you and Miss Anna away from
home, and heard the people saying colored people ought to be free, it made
me feel bad. I thought then that God did not mean one of his creatures to
be a slave; when I came home and considered about it, I would often be put
out, and discontented. It was wicked, I know, but I could not help it for a
while.
"I saw my husband and children doing well and happy, but I used to say to
myself, they are slaves, and so am I. So I went about my work with a heavy
heart. When my children was born, I would think 'what comfort is it to give
birth to a child when I know its a slave.' I struggled hard though, with
these feelings, sir, and God gave me grace to get the better of them, for I
could not read my Bible without seeing there was nothing agin slavery
there; and that God had told the master his duty, and the slave his duty.
You've done your duty by me and mine, sir; and I hope where I have come
short you will forgive me, for I couldn't die in peace, without I thought
you and I was all right together."
"Forgive you, Phillis," said Mr. Weston, much affected. "What have I to
forgive? Rather do I thank you for all you have done for me. You were a
friend and nurse to my wife, and a mother to my only child. Was ever
servant or friend so faithful as you have been!"
Phillis smiled and looked very happy. "Thank you, master," she said, "from
my heart. How good the Lord is to me, to make my dying bed so easy. It puts
me in mind of the hymn Esther sings. She's got a pleasant voice, hasn't
she, sir?
'And while I feel my heart-strings break,
How sweet the moments roll!
A mortal paleness on my cheek
And glory in my soul.'
"Oh! master, its sweet for me to die, for Jesus is my friend; he makes all
about me friends too, for it seems to me that you and Miss Janet, and all
of you are my friends. Poor Bacchus! he takes on sadly about me; he always
was a tender-hearted soul. Master, when I am gone, I know you will be good
to him and comfort him, but, please sir, do something else. Talk to him,
and pray for him, and read the blessed Book to him! Oh! if he would only
give up liquor! I trust in the Lord he will live and die a sober man, else
I know we'll never meet again. We won't be on the same side at the Judgment
Seat. There's no drunkards in that happy place where I am going fast. No
drunkards in the light of God's face--no drunkards at the blessed feet of
Jesus."
"I think Bacchus has perfectly reformed," said Mr. Weston, "and you may
feel assured that we will do every thing for his soul as well as his body,
that we can. But, Phillis, have you no wishes to express, as regards your
children?"
Phillis hesitated--"My children are well off," she said; "they have a good
master; if they serve him and God faithfully they will be sure to do well."
"If there is any thing on your mind," said Mr. Weston, "speak it without
fear. The distinction between you and me as master and slave, I consider no
longer existing. You are near being redeemed from my power, and the power
of death alone divides you from your Saviour's presence. That Saviour whose
example you have tried to follow, whose blood has washed your soul from all
its sin. I am much older than you, and I live in momentary expectation of
my summons. We shall soon meet, I hope, in that happy place, where the
distinctions of this world will be forgotten. I have thought of you a great
deal, lately, and have been anxious to relieve your mind of every care. It
is natural that a mother, about to leave such a family as you have, should
have some wishes regarding them.
"I have thought several times," continued Mr. Weston, "of offering to set
your children free at my death, and I will do so if you wish. You must be
aware that they could not remain in Virginia after they were manumitted.
In the Middle and Northern states free blacks are in a degraded condition.
There is no sympathy for or with them. They have no more rights than they
have as slaves with us, and they have no one to care for them when they are
sick or in trouble. You have seen a good deal of this in your occasional
visits to the North. In Washington, since the Abolitionists have
intermeddled there, the free blacks have become intolerable; they live from
day to day in discomfort and idleness. I mean as a general thing; there
are, of course, occasional exceptions. Bacchus is too old to take care of
himself; he would not be happy away from Exeter. Consider what I say to
you, and I will be guided by your wishes as regards your children.
"They might go to Liberia; some of them would be willing, no doubt. I have
talked to William, he says he would not go. Under these circumstances they
would be separated, and it is doubtful whether I would be doing you or them
a favour by freeing them. Be perfectly candid, and let me know your
wishes."
"As long as you, or Master Arthur and Miss Alice live, they would be better
off as they are," said Phillis.
"I believe they would," said Mr. Weston, "but life and death cannot be too
much considered in connection with each other. I must soon go. I am only
lingering at the close of a long journey. Arthur will then have control,
and will, I am certain, make his servants as happy as he can. My family is
very small; you are aware I have no near relations. I have made my will,
and should Arthur and Alice die without children, I have left all my
servants free. Your children I have thus provided for. At my death they are
free, but I would not feel justified in turning them into the world without
some provision. The older children can take care of themselves; they are
useful and have good principles. I have willed each one of them to be free
at the age of twenty years. Thus, you see, most of them will soon be free,
while none will have to wait very long. In the mean time they will be well
taught and cared for. My will is made, and all the forms of law attended
to. Arthur and Alice are very much pleased with it. Your older children
know it; they are very happy, but they declare they will never leave Exeter
as long as there is a Weston upon it.[B] And now, Phillis, are you
satisfied? I shall experience great pleasure in having been able to relieve
you of any anxiety while you have so much pain to bear."
"Oh! master," said Phillis, "what shall I say to you? I haven't no
learning. I am only a poor, ignorant woman. I can't thank you, master, as I
ought. My heart is nigh to bursting. What have I done that the Lord is so
good to me. He has put it into your heart to make me so happy; Thank you,
master, and God for ever bless you."
The tears streamed down her cheeks, as Mr. Weston arose to go. Esther had
come to see if her mother wanted any thing.
"Master," said Phillis, "wait one moment--there's nothing between me and
Heaven now. Oh! sir, I shall soon be redeemed from all sin and sorrow. I
think I see the glory that shines about the heavenly gates. I have never
felt myself ready to go until now, but there is nothing to keep me. The
Lord make your dying bed as easy as you have mine."
Mr. Weston endeavored to compose himself, but was much agitated. "Phillis,"
he said, "you have deserved more than I could ever do for you. If any thing
should occur to you that I have not thought of, let me know, it shall, if
possible, be done. Would you like again to see Mr. Caldwell, and receive
the communion?"
"No, master, I thank you. You and Miss Janet, and Miss Anna, and poor
Bacchus, took it with me last week, and I shall soon be where there will
be no more need to remind me of the Lamb that was slain; for I shall be
with him; I shall see him as he is. And, master, we will all meet there. We
will praise him together."
Esther was weeping; and Mr. Weston, quite overcome, left the room.
"Esther, child," said Phillis, "don't do so. There's nothing but glory and
peace. There's no occasion for tears. God will take care of you all here,
and will, I hope and pray, bring you to heaven at last. Poor master! To
think he is so distressed parting with me. I thought I should have stood by
his dying bed. The Lord knows best."
"Mother," said Esther, "will you take this medicine--it is time?"
"No, honey. No more medicine; it won't do me no good. I don't want
medicine. Jesus is what I want. He is all in all."
* * * * *
Reader! have you ever stood by the dying bed of a slave? It may be not.
There are those who are often there. The angels of God, and One who is
above the angels. One who died for all. He is here now. Here, where stand
weeping friends--here, where all is silence. You may almost hear the
angel's wings as they wait to bear the redeemed spirit to its heavenly
abode. Here, where the form is almost senseless, the soul fluttering
between earth and heaven. Here, where the Spirit of God is over-shadowing
the scene.
"Master," said Phillis, "all is peace. Jesus is here. I am going home. You
will soon be there, and Miss Janet can't be long. Miss Anna too. Bacchus,
the good Lord will bring you there. I trust in Him to save you. My
children, God bless them, little Lydia and all."
"Master Arthur," said she, as Arthur bent over her, "give my love to Master
Walter. You and Miss Alice will soon be married. The Lord make you happy.
God bless you, Miss Ellen, and make you his child. Keep close, children to
Jesus. Seems as if we wasn't safe when we can't see him. I see him now; he
is beckoning me to come. Blessed Jesus! take me--take me home."
Kind master, weep not. She will bear, even at the throne of God, witness to
thy faithfulness. Through thee she learned the way to heaven, and it may be
soon she will stand by thee again, though thou see her not. She may be one
of those who will guide thee to the Celestial City; to the company of the
redeemed, where will be joy forever. Weep not, but see in what peace a
Christian can die. Watch the last gleams of thought which stream from her
dying eyes. Do you see any thing like apprehension? The world, it is true,
begins to shut in. The shadows of evening collect around her senses. A dark
mist thickens, and rests upon the objects which have hitherto engaged her
observation. The countenances of her friends become more and more
indistinct. The sweet expressions of love and friendship are no longer
intelligible. Her ear wakes no more at the well-known voice of her
children, and the soothing accents of tender affection die away unheard
upon her decaying senses. To her the spectacle of human life is drawing to
its close, and the curtain is descending which shuts out this earth, its
actors, and its scenes. She is no longer interested in all that is done
under the sun. Oh! that I could now open to you the recesses of her soul,
that I could reveal to you the light which darts into the chambers of her
understanding. She approaches that world which she has so long seen in
faith. The imagination now collects its diminished strength, and the eye of
faith opens wide.
"Friends! do not stand thus fixed in sorrow around this bed of death. Why
are you so still and silent? Fear not to move; you cannot disturb the
visions that enchant this holy spirit. She heeds you not; already she sees
the spirits of the just advancing together to receive a kindred soul. She
is going to add another to the myriads of the just, that are every moment
crowding into the portals of heaven. She is entering on a noble life.
Already she cries to you from the regions of bliss. Will you not join her
there? Will you not taste the sublime joys of faith? There are seats for
you in the assembly of the just made perfect, in the innumerable company of
angels, where is Jesus, the Mediator of the New Covenant, and God, the
Judge of all."
CONCLUDING REMARKS.
I must be allowed to quote the words of Mrs. Harriet B. Stowe:
"The writer has often been (or will be) inquired of by correspondents from
different parts of the country, whether this narrative is a true one; and
to these inquiries she will give one general answer. The separate incidents
that compose the narrative are to a very great extent authentic, occurring,
many of them, either under her own observation, or that of her personal
friends. She or her friends have observed characters the counterpart of
almost all that are here introduced; and many of the sayings are word for
word as heard herself, or reported to her."
Of the planter Legree, (and, with the exception of Prof. Webster, such a
wretch never darkened humanity,) she says:
"Of him her brother wrote, he actually made me feel of his fist, which was
like a blacksmith's hammer or a nodule of iron, telling me that it was
calloused with knocking down niggers."
Now as a parallel to this, I will state a fact communicated to me by a
clergyman, (a man of great talent, and goodness of character, and undoubted
veracity,) that a superintendent of Irishmen, who were engaged on a
Northern railroad, told him he did not hesitate to knock any man down that
gave him the least trouble; and although the clergyman did not "examine his
fist and pronounce it like a blacksmith's hammer," yet, I have not the
slightest doubt it was "calloused with knocking down Irishmen." At any
rate, I take the license of the writers of the day, and say it was.
Mrs. Stowe goes on to say, "That the tragical fate of Tom also has too many
times had its parallel, there are living witnesses all over our land to
testify." Now it would take the smallest portion of common sense to know
that there is no witness, dead or living, who could testify to such a fact,
save a _false witness_. This whole history is an absurdity. No master would
be fool enough to sell the best hand on his estate; one who directed, and
saved, and managed for him. No master would be brutish enough to sell the
man who had nursed him and his children, who loved him like a son, _even
for urgent debt_, had he another article of property in the wide world. But
Mr. Shelby does so, according to Mrs. Stowe, though he has a great many
other servants, besides houses and lands, &c. Preposterous!
And such a saint as Uncle Tom was, too! One would have thought his master,
with the opinion he had of his religious qualifications, would have kept
him until he died, and then have sold him bone after bone to the Roman
Catholics. Why, every tooth in his head would have brought its price. St.
Paul was nothing but a common man compared with him, for St. Paul had been
wicked once; and even after his miraculous conversion, he felt that sin was
still impelling him to do what he would not. But not so with Uncle Tom! He
was the very perfection of a saint. Well might St. Clare have proposed
using him for a family chaplain, or suggested to himself the idea of
ascending to heaven by Tom's skirts. Mrs. Stowe should have carried out one
of her ideas in his history, and have made him Bishop of Carthage. I have
never heard or read of so perfect a character. All the saints and martyrs
that ever came to unnatural deaths, could not show such an amount of
excellence. I only wonder he managed to stay so long in this world of sin.
When, after fiery trials and persecutions, he is finally purchased by a Mr.
Legree, Mrs. Stowe speaks of the horrors of the scene. She says though, "it
can't be helped." Did it ever occur to her, that Northerners might go
South, and buy a great many of these slaves, and manumit them? They do go
South and buy them, but they keep them, and work them as slaves too. A
great deal of this misery _might_ be helped.
Tom arrives at Legree's plantation. How does he fare? Sleeps on a little
foul, dirty straw, jammed in with a lot of others; has every night toward
midnight enough corn to stay the stomach of one small chicken; and is
thrown into a most dreadful state of society--men degraded, and women
degraded. We will pass over scenes that a woman's pen should never
describe, and observe the saint-like perfection of Tom. He was, or
considered himself, a missionary to the negroes, evidently liked his
sufferings, and died, by choice, a martyr's death. He made the most
astonishing number of conversions in a short time, and of characters worse
than history records. So low, so degraded, so lost were the men and women
whose wicked hearts he subdued, that their conversion amounted to nothing
less than miracles. No matter how low, how ignorant, how depraved, the very
sight of Tom turned them into advanced, intelligent Christians.
Tom's lines were indeed cast in a sad place. I have always believed that
the Creator was everywhere; but we are told of Legree's plantation "The
Lord never visits these parts." This might account for the desperate
wickedness of most of the characters, but how Tom could retain his holiness
under the circumstances is a marvel to me. His religion, then, depended on
himself. Assuredly he was more than a man!
Legree had several ways of keeping his servants in order--"they were burned
alive; scalded, cut into inch pieces; set up for the dogs to tear, or hung
up and whipped to death." Now I am convinced that Mrs. Stowe must have a
credulous mind; and was imposed upon. She never could have conceived such
things with all her talent; the very conception implies a refinement of
cruelty. She gives, however, a mysterious description of a certain "place
way out down by the quarters, where you can see a black blasted tree, and
the ground all covered with black ashes." It is afterward intimated that
this was the scene of a negro burned alive. Reader, you may depend, it was
a mistake; that's just the way a tree appears when it has been struck by
lightning. Next time you pass one, look at it. I have not the slightest
doubt that this was the way the mistake was made. We have an occasional wag
at the South, and some one has practised upon a soft-hearted New Englander
in search of horrors; this is the result. She mentions that the ashes were
black. Do not infer from this that it must have been a black man or negro.
But I will no longer arraign your good sense. It was not, take my word for
it, as Mrs. Stowe describes it, some poor negro "tied to a tree, with a
slow fire lit under him."
Tom tells Legree "he'd as soon die as not." Indeed, he proposes whipping,
starving, burning; saying, "it will only send him sooner where he wants to
go." Tom evidently considers himself as too good for this world; and after
making these proposals to his master, he is asked, "How are you?" He
answers: "The Lord God has sent his angel, and shut the lion's mouth."
Anybody can see that he is laboring under a hallucination, and fancies
himself Daniel. Cassy, however, consoled him after the style of Job's
friends, by telling him that his master was going "to hang like a dog at
his throat, sucking his blood, bleeding away his life drop by drop."
In what an attitude, O Planters of the South, has Mrs. Stowe taken your
likenesses!
Tom dies at last. How could such a man die? Oh! that he would live forever
and convert all our Southern slaves. He did not need any supporting grace
on his deathbed. Hear him--"The Lord may help me, or not help, but I'll
hold on to him."
I thought a Christian could not hold on to the Lord without help. "Ye can
of yourself do nothing." But Tom is an exception--to the last he is
perfect. All Christians have been caught tripping sometimes, but Tom never
is. He is "bearing everybody's burdens." He might run away, but he will
not. He says, "The Lord has given me a work among these yer poor souls, and
I'll stay with 'em, and bear my cross with 'em to the end." Christian
reader, we must reflect. We know where to go for _one_ instance of human
perfection, where the human and the Divine were united, but we know not of
another.
Tom converts Cassy, a most infamous creature from her own accounts, and we
are to sympathize with her vileness, for she has no other traits of
character described. Tom converts her, but I am sorry to see she steals
money and goods, and fibs tremendously afterwards. We hope the rest of his
converts did him more credit.
The poor fellow dies at last--converting two awful wretches with his
expiring breath. The process of conversion was very short. "Oh! Lord, give
me these two more souls, I pray." That prayer was answered.
The saddest part of this book would be, (if they were just,) the inferences
to be drawn from the history of this wretch, Legree. Mrs. Stowe says, "He
was rocked on the bosom of a mother, cradled with prayer and pious hymns,
his now seared brow bedewed with the waters of baptism. In early childhood,
a fair-haired woman had led him, at the sound of Sabbath bells, to worship
and to pray. Far in New England that mother had trained her only son with
long unwearied love and patient prayers." Believe it not, Christian mother,
North or South! Thou hast the promises of Scripture to the contrary. Rock
thy babe upon thy bosom--sing to him sweet hymns--carry him to the
baptismal font--be unwearied in love--patient in prayers; he will never be
such a one. He may wander, but he will come back; do thy duty by him, and
God will not forget his promises. "He is not man that he will lie; nor the
son of man that he will repent."
Legree is a Northerner. Time would fail me to notice all the crimes with
which Southern men and women are charged; but their greatness and number
precludes the possibility of their being believed. According to Mrs. Stowe,
mothers do not love their beautiful children at the South. The husbands
have to go to New England and bring back old maids to take care of them,
and to see to their houses, which are going to rack and ruin under their
wives' surveillance. Oh! these Southern husbands, a heart of stone must
pity them.
Then again, Southern planters keep dogs and blood-hounds to hunt up
negroes, tear women's faces, and commit all sorts of _doggish_ atrocities.
Now I have a charitable way of accounting for this. I am convinced, too,
this is a misapprehension; and I'll tell you why.
I have a mortal fear of dogs myself. I always had. No reasoning, no
scolding, ever had the slightest effect upon me. I never passed one on my
way to church with my prayer-book in my hand, without quaking. If they wag
their tails, I look around for aid. If they bark, I immediately give myself
up for lost. I have died a thousand deaths from the mere accident of
meeting dogs in the street. I never did meet one without believing that it
was his destiny to give my children a step-mother. In point of fact, I
would like to live in a world without dogs; but as I cannot accomplish
this, I console myself by living in a house without one. I always expect my
visitors to leave their dogs at home; they may bring their children, but
they must not bring their dogs. I wish dogs would not even look in my
basement windows as they pass.
I am convinced therefore, that some Northerner has passed a plantation at
the South, and seen dogs tied up. Naturally having a horror of dogs, he has
let his imagination loose. After a great deal of mental exercise, the
brain jumps at a conclusion, "What are these dogs kept here for?" The
answer is palpable: "To hunt niggers when they run away." Reader, imitate
my charity; it is a rare virtue where white faces are concerned.
All the rest of Mrs. Stowe's horrors can be accounted for satisfactorily.
It is much better to try and find an excuse for one's fellow-creatures than
to be always calling them "story-tellers," and the like. I am determined to
be charitable.
But still it is misrepresentation; for if they took proper means, they
would find out the delusions under which they labor.
Abolitionists do not help their cause by misrepresentation. It will do well
enough, in a book of romance, to describe infants torn from the arms of
their shrieking mothers, and sold for five and ten dollars. It tells well,
for the mass of readers are fond of horrors; but it is not true. It is on a
par with the fact stated, that masters advertise their slaves, and offer
rewards for them, dead or alive. How did the snows of New England ever give
birth to such brilliant imaginations!
Family relations are generally respected; and when they are not, it is one
of the evils attendant on an institution which God has permitted in all
ages, for his inscrutable purposes, and which he may in his good time do
away with.
The Jews ever turn their eyes and affections toward Jerusalem, as their
home; so should the free colored people in America regard Liberia. Africa,
once their mother country, should, in its turn, be the country of their
adoption.
As regards the standard of talent among negroes, I fancy it has been
exaggerated; though no one can, at present, form a just conclusion. Slavery
has, for ages, pressed like a band of iron round the intellect of the
colored man. Time must do its work to show what he is, without a like
hindrance.
The instance mentioned in "Uncle Tom's Cabin," of a young mulatto, George
Harris, inventing a machine, is _very solitary_. The negroes, like a good
many of their owners, are opposed to innovations. They like the good old
way. The hot sun under which they were born, and the hotter one that
lighted the paths of their ancestors, prejudices them against any new
effort. I think, _when they do get in Congress_, they will vote for
agricultural against manufacturing interests. I am sure they would rather
pick cotton than be confined to the din and dust of a factory. An old negro
prefers to put his meal bags in a covered wagon, and drive them to market
at his leisure, with his pocket full of the tobacco he helped to raise, and
the whole country for a spit-box, to being whirled away bodily in a
railroad car, in terror of his life, deaf with the whistling and the
puffing of the engine. When Liberia or Africa does become a great nation,
(Heaven grant it may soon,) they will require many other buildings there,
before a patent office is called for.
George Harris is a _natural_ Abolitionist, with a dark complexion. He is a
remarkable youth in other respects, though I should first consider the
enormous fact of George's master appropriating to himself the benefit of
his servant's cleverness. Even with a show of right this may be a mean
trick, but it is the way of the world. A large portion of New England men
are at this time claiming each other's patents. I know of an instance down
East, for Southerners can sometimes "tak notes, and prent 'em too." A
gentleman took a friend to his room, and showed him an invention for which
he was about to apply for a patent. The friend walked off with his hands in
his pocket; his principles had met, and passed an appropriation bill; the
invention had become his own--in plain English, he stole it. Washington is
always full of people claiming each other's brains. The lawyers at the
Patent Office have their hands full. They must keep wide awake, too. Each
inventor, when he relates his grievances, brings a witness to maintain his
claim. There is no doubt that, after a while, there will be those who can
testify to the fact of having seen the idea as it passed through the
inventor's mind. The way it is settled at present is this--whoever can pay
the most for the best lawyer comes off triumphantly! Poor George is not the
only smart fellow in the world outdone by somebody better off than himself.
George positively refuses to hear the Bible quoted. He believes in a higher
law, no doubt, Frederic Douglas being editorial expounder; a sort of Moses
of this century, a little less meek, though, than the one who instructed
the Israelites. George won't hear the Bible; he prefers, he says, appealing
to the Almighty himself. This makes me fear his Abolitionist friends are
not doing right by him; putting him up to shooting, and turning Spanish
gentleman, and all sorts of vagaries; to say nothing of disobeying the laws
of the country. No one blames him, though, for escaping from a hard master;
at least, I do not.
It would be a grand thing to stand on the shore of a new country, and see
before you, _free_, every slave and prisoner on the soil of the earth; to
hear their Te Deum ascend to the listening heavens. Methinks the sun would
stand still, as it did of old, and earth would lift up her voice, and lead
the song of her ransomed children; but, alas! this cannot be yet--the time
is not come. Oppression wears her crown in every clime, though it is
sometimes hidden from the gaze of her subjects.
George declares he knows more than his master; "he can read and write
better;" but his logic is bad. He thus discusses the indications of
Providence. A friend reminds him of what the apostle says, "Let every man
abide in the condition in which he is called," and he immediately uses this
simile: "I wonder, Mr. Wilson, if the Indians should come, and take you a
prisoner, away from your wife and children, and want to keep you all your
life hoeing corn for them, if you'd think it your duty to abide in that
condition in which you were called. I rather think, that you'd think the
first stray horse you could find an indication of Providence--shouldn't
you?"
This does not apply to slavery. A man born a slave, in a country where
slavery is allowed by law, should feel the obligation of doing his duty
while a slave; but Mr. Wilson, carried off by Indians, would feel as if he
had been called to a state of life previous to the one in which he was so
unfortunate to be doomed, while he was among savages.
George goes on to say--"Let any man take care that tries to stop me, for I
am desperate, and I'll fight for my liberty. You say your fathers did it:
if it was right for them, it is right for me."
Too fast, George! You are out in your history, too. Your master must be a
remarkably ignorant man if you know more than he. Our glorious ancestors
were never condemned to slavery, they nor their fathers, by God himself.
Neither have they ever been considered in the light of runaways; they came
off with full permission, and having _honestly_ and _honorably_ attained
their liberties, they fought for them.
Besides being of a prettier complexion, and coming of a better stock than
you, they were _prepared_ to be free. There is a great deal in that.
Then, those very ancestors of ours--ah! there's the rub--(and the ancestors
of the Abolitionists, too,) they got us and you into this difficulty--think
of it! They had your ancestors up there in New England, until they found
you were so lazy, and died off so in their cold climate, that it _did not
pay to keep you_. So I repeat to you the advice of Mr. Wilson, "Be careful,
my boy; don't shoot anybody, George, unless--well--you'd better not shoot,
I reckon; at least, I wouldn't hit anybody, you know."
As regards the practice of marking negroes in the hand, I look upon it as
one of the imaginary horrors of the times--delusion like spiritual
rappings, got up out of sheer timidity of disposition, though I have heard
of burning old women for witches in New England, and placing a scarlet
letter on the bosom of some unhappy one, who had already sorrow and sin
enough to bear.
It won't do; the subject has, without doubt, been duly investigated
already. I'd be willing (were I not opposed to betting) to bet my best
collar and neck ribbon, that a committee of investigation has been
appointed, consisting of twelve of Boston's primmest old maids, and they
have been scouring the plantations of the South, bidding the negroes hold
out their hands, (not as the poor souls will at first suppose, that they
may be crossed with a piece of silver,) and that they are now returning,
crest-fallen, to their native city, not having seen a branded hand in all
their journeying. Could aught escape _their_ vigilance? But they will say
they saw a vast number, and that will answer the purpose.
(Ah! Washington Irving, well mayest thou sigh and look back at the ladies
of the Golden Age. "These were the honest days, in which every woman stayed
at home, read the Bible, and wore pockets." These days are for ever gone.
Prophetic was thy lament! Now we may wear pockets--but, alas! we neither
stay at home, nor read our Bible. We form societies to reform the world,
and we write books on slavery!)
Talking of our ancestors, George, in the time of the Revolution,
(by-the-by, yours were a set of dear, honest old creatures, for there were
no Abolitionists then among us,) reminds me of an anecdote about George
Washington and a favorite servant. Billy Lee was an honest, faithful man,
and a first-rate groom, and George Washington--you need not blush to be a
namesake of his, though he was a slaveholder.
The two were in a battle, the battle of Monmouth, the soldiers fighting
like sixty, and Billy Lee looking on at a convenient distance, taking
charge of a led horse, in case Washington's should be shot from under him.
O, but it was a hot day! Washington used to recall the thirst and the
suffering attendant upon the heat, (thinking of the soldiers' suffering,
and not of his own.) As for Billy Lee, if he did not breathe freely, he
perspired enough so to make up for it. I warrant you he was anxious for the
battle to be over, and the sun to go down. But there he stood, true as
steel--honest, old patriot as he was--quieting the horse, and watching his
noble master's form, as proud and erect it was seen here and there,
directing the troops with that union of energy and calmness for which he
was distinguished. Washington's horse fell under him, dying from excessive
heat; but hear Billy Lee describe it:
"Lord! sir, if you could a seen it; de heat, and dust, and smoke. De
cannons flyin, and de shot a whizzin, and de dust a blowing, and de horses'
heels a kickin up, when all at onct master's horse fell under him. It
warn't shot--bless your soul, no. It drapped right down dead wid de heat.
Master he got up. I was scared when I see him and de horse go; but master
got up. He warn't hurt; couldn't hurt him.
"Master he got up, looked round at me. 'Billy,' says he, 'give me the other
horse, and you take care of the new saddle on this other poor fellow.'
"Did you ever hear de like?" added Billy Lee, "thinking of de saddle when
de balls was a flyin most in our eyes. But it's always de same wid master.
He thinks of every thing."
I agree with the humane jurist quoted by Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe: "The
worst use you can put a man to is to hang him." She thinks slavery is worse
still; but when "I think of every thing," I am forced to differ from her.
The most of our Southern slaves are happy, and kindly cared for; and for
those who are not, there is hope for the better. But when a man is hung up
by the neck until he is dead, he is done for. As far as I can see, there is
nothing that can be suggested to better his condition.
I have no wish to uphold slavery. I would that every human being that God
has made were free, were it in accordance with His will;--free bodily, free
spiritually--"free indeed!"
Neither do I desire to deny the evils of slavery, any more than I would
deny the evils of the factory system in England, or the factory and
apprenticeship system in our own country. I only assert the necessity of
the existence of slavery at present in our Southern States, and that, as a
general thing, the slaves are comfortable and contented, and their owners
humane and kind.
I have lived a great deal at the North--long enough to see acts of
oppression and injustice there, which, were any one so inclined, might be
wrought into a "living dramatic reality."
I knew a wealthy family. All the labor of the house was performed by a
"poor relation," a young and delicate girl. I have known servants struck by
their employers. At the South I have never seen a servant struck, though I
know perfectly well such things are done _here_ and _everywhere_. Can we
judge of society by a few isolated incidents? If so, the learned professors
of New England borrow money, and when they do not choose to pay, they
murder their creditors, and cut them in pieces! or men kill their sleeping
wives and children!
Infidelity has been called a magnificent lie! Mrs. Stowe's "living
dramatic reality" is nothing more than an interesting falsehood; nor ought
to be offered, as an equivalent for truth, the genius that pervades her
pages; rather it is to be lamented that the rich gifts of God should be so
misapplied.
Were the exertions of the Abolitionists successful, what would be the
result? The soul sickens at the thought. Scenes of blood and horror--the
desolation of our fair Southern States--the final destruction of the
negroes in them. This would be the result of immediate emancipation here.
What has it been elsewhere? Look at St. Domingo. A recent visitor there
says, "Though opposed to slavery, I must acknowledge that in this instance
the experiment has failed." He compares the negroes to "a wretched
gibbering set, from their appearance and condition more nearly allied to
beasts than to men." Look at the free colored people of the North and in
Canada.
I have lived among them at the North, and can judge for myself. Their
"friends" do not always obtain their affection or gratitude. A colored
woman said to me, "I would rather work for any people than the
Abolitionists. They expect us to do so much, and they say we ought to work
cheaper for them because they are 'our friends.'" Look at them in Canada.
An English gentleman who has for many years resided there, and who has
recently visited Washington, told me that they were the most miserable,
helpless human beings he had ever seen. In fact he said, "They were
nuisances, and the people of Canada would be truly thankful to see them out
of their country." He had never heard of "a good missionary" mentioned by
Mrs. Stowe, "whom Christian charity has placed there as a shepherd to the
outcast and wandering." He had seen no good results of emancipation. On one
occasion he hired a colored man to drive him across the country.
"How did you get here?" he said to the man. "Are you not a runaway?"
"Yes, sir," the man replied. "I came from Virginny."
"Well, of course you are a great deal happier now than when you were a
slave?"
"No, sir; if I could get back to Virginny, I would be glad to go." He
looked, too, as if he had never been worse off than at that time.
The fact is, liberty like money is a grand thing; but in order to be happy,
we must know how to use it.
It cannot always be said of the fugitive slave,--
"The mortal puts on immortality,
When mercy's hand has turned the golden key,
And mercy's voice hath said, Rejoice, thy soul is free."
The attentive reader will perceive that I am indebted to Mrs. Stowe for the
application of this and other quotations.
The author of Uncle Tom's Cabin speaks of good men at the North, who
"receive and educate the oppressed" (negroes). I know "lots" of good men
there, but none good enough to befriend colored people. They seem to me to
have an unconquerable antipathy to them. But Mrs. Stowe says, _she_
educates them in her own family with her own children. I am glad to hear
she feels and acts kindly toward them, and I wish others in her region of
country would imitate her in this respect; but I would rather _my_ children
and negroes were educated at different schools, being utterly opposed to
amalgamation, root and branch.
She asks the question, "_What_ can any individual do?" Strange that any one
should be at a loss in this working world of ours.
Christian men and women should find enough to occupy them in their
families, and in an undoubted sphere of duty.
Let the people of the North take care of their own poor.
Let the people of the South take care of theirs.
Let each remember the great and awful day when they must render a final
account to their Creator, their Redeemer, and their Judge.
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copy.
B.B. WISNER, D.D., Secretary of Am. Board of Com. for For. Missions.
WM. COGSWELL, D.D., " " Education Society.
JOHN CODMAN, D.D., Pastor of Congregational Church, Dorchester.
Rev. HUBBARD WINSLOW, " " Bowdoin street,
Dorchester.
Rev. SEWALL HARDING, Pastor of T.C. Church, Waltham.
Rev. J.H. FAIRCHILD, Pastor of Congregational Church, South Boston.
GARDINER SPRING, D.D., Pastor of Presbyterian Church, New York city.
CYRUS MASON, D.D., " " " " "
THOS. McAULEY. D.D., " " " " "
JOHN WOODBRIDGE, D.D., " " " " "
THOS. DEWITT, D.D., " Dutch Ref. " " "
E.W. BALDWIN, D.D., " " " " "
Rev. J.M. McKREBS, " Presbyterian " " "
Rev. ERSKINE MASON, " " " " "
Rev. J.S. SPENCER, " " " Brooklyn "
EZRA STILES ELY, D.D., Stated Clerk of Gen. Assem. of Presbyterian Church.
JOHN McDOWELL, D.D., Permanent " " " "
JOHN BRECKENRIDGE, Corresponding Secretary of Assembly's Board of Education.
SAMUEL B. WYLIE, D.D., Pastor of the Reformed Presbyterian Church.
N. LORD, D.D., President of Dartmouth College.
JOSHUA BATES, D.D., President of Middlebury College.
H. HUMPHREY, D.D., " Amherst College.
E.D. GRIFFIN, D.D., " Williamstown College.
J. WHEELER, D.D., " University of Vermont, at Burlington.
J.M. MATTHEWS, D.D., " New York City University.
GEORGE E. PIERCE, D.D., " Western Reserve College, Ohio.
Rev. Dr. BROWN, " Jefferson College, Penn.
LEONARD WOODS, D.D., Professor of Theology, Andover Seminary.
THOS. H. SKINNER, D.D., " Sac. Rhet. " "
Rev. RALPH EMERSON, " Eccl. Hist. " "
Rev. JOEL PARKER, Pastor of Presbyterian Church, New Orleans.
JOEL HAWES, D.D., " Congregational Church, Hartford, Conn.
N.S.S. BEAMAN. D.D., " Presbyterian Church, Troy, N.Y.
MARK TUCKER, D.D., " " " " "
Rev. E.N. KIRK, " " " Albany, N.Y.
Rev. E.B. EDWARDS, Editor of Quarterly Observer.
Rev. STEPHEN MASON, Pastor First Congregational Church, Nantucket.
Rev. ORIN FOWLER, " " " " Fall River.
GEORGE W. BETHUNE, D.D., Pastor of the First Reformed Dutch Church, Phila.,
Pa.
Rev. LYMAN BEECHER, D.D., Cincinnati, Ohio.
Rev. C.D. MALLORY, Pastor Baptist Church, Augusta, Ga.
Rev. S.M. NOEL, " " " Frankfort, Ky.
_From the Professors at Princeton Theological Seminary._
The Comprehensive Commentary contains the whole of Henry's Exposition in a
condensed form, Scott's Practical Observations and Marginal References and
a large number of very valuable philological and critical notes, selected
from various authors. The work appears to be executed with judgment,
fidelity, and care; and will furnish a rich treasure of scriptural
knowledge to the Biblical student, and to the teachers of Sabbath-Schools
and Bible Classes.
A. ALEXANDER, D.D.
SAMUEL MILLER, D.D.
CHARLES HODGE, D.D.
* * * * *
The Companion to the Bible.
In one super-royal volume.
DESIGNED TO ACCOMPANY
THE FAMILY BIBLE,
OR HENRY'S, SCOTT'S, CLARKE'S, GILL'S, OR OTHER COMMENTARIES:
CONTAINING
1. A new, full, and complete Concordance;
Illustrated with monumental, traditional, and oriental engravings, founded
on Butterworth's, with Cruden's definitions; forming, it is believed, on
many accounts, a more valuable work than either Butterworth, Cruden, or any
other similar book in the language.
The value of a Concordance in now generally understood; and those who have
used one, consider it indispensable in connection with the Bible.
2. A Guide to the Reading and Study of the Bible;
being Carpenter's valuable Biblical Companion, lately published in London,
containing a complete history of the Bible, and forming a most excellent
introduction to its study. It embraces the evidences of Christianity,
Jewish antiquities, manners, customs, arts, natural history, &c., of the
Bible, with notes and engravings added.
3. Complete Biographies of Henry, by Williams; Scott, by his son;
Doddridge, by Orton;
with sketches of the lives and characters, and notices of the works, of the
writers on the Scriptures who are quoted in the Commentary, living and
dead, American and foreign.
This part of the volume not only affords a large quantity of interesting
and useful reading for pious families, but will also be a source of
gratification to all those who are in the habit of consulting the
Commentary; every one naturally feeling a desire to know some particulars
of the lives and characters of those whose opinions he seeks. Appended to
this part, will be a
BIBLIOTHECA BIBLICA,
or list of the best works on the Bible, of all kinds, arranged under their
appropriate heads.
4. A complete Index of the Matter contained in the Bible Text.
5. A Symbolical Dictionary.
A very comprehensive and valuable Dictionary of Scripture Symbols,
(occupying about _fifty-six_ closely printed pages,) by Thomas Wemyss,
(author of "Biblical Gleanings," &c.) Comprising Daubux, Lancaster,
Hutcheson, &c.
6. The Work contains several other Articles,
Indexes, Tables, &c. &c., and is,
7. Illustrated by a large Plan of Jerusalem,
identifying, as far as tradition, &c., go, the original sites, drawn on the
spot by F. Catherwood, of London, architect. Also, two steel engravings of
portraits of seven foreign and eight American theological writers, and
numerous wood engravings.
The whole forms a desirable and necessary fund of instruction for the use
not only of clergymen and Sabbath-school teachers, but also for families.
When the great amount of matter it must contain is considered, it will be
deemed exceedingly cheap.
"I have examined 'The Companion to the Bible,' and have been surprised to
find so much information introduced into a volume of so moderate a size. It
contains a library of sacred knowledge and criticism. It will be useful to
ministers who own large libraries, and cannot fail to be an invaluable help
to every reader of the Bible."
HENRY MORRIS,
Pastor of Congregational Church, Vermont.
The above work can be had in several styles of binding. Price varying from
$1.75 to $5.00.
* * * * *
ILLUSTRATIONS OF THE HOLY SCRIPTURES,
In one super-royal volume.
DERIVED PRINCIPALLY FROM THE MANNERS, CUSTOMS, ANTIQUITIES, TRADITIONS, AND
FORMS OF SPEECH, RITES, CLIMATE, WORKS OF ART, AND LITERATURE OF THE
EASTERN NATIONS:
EMBODYING ALL THAT IS VALUABLE IN THE WORKS OF
ROBERTS, HARMER, BURDER, PAXTON, CHANDLER,
And the most celebrated oriental travellers. Embracing also the subject of
the Fulfilment of Prophecy, as exhibited by Keith and others; with
descriptions of the present state of countries and places mentioned in the
Sacred Writings.
ILLUSTRATED BY NUMEROUS LANDSCAPE ENGRAVINGS,
FROM SKETCHES TAKEN ON THE SPOT.
Edited by Rev. GEORGE BUSH,
Professor of Hebrew and Oriental Literature in the New York City
University.
The importance of this work mast be obvious, and, being altogether
_illustrative_, without reference to doctrines, or other points in which
Christians differ, it is hoped it will meet with favour from all who love
the sacred volume, and that it will be sufficiently interesting and
attractive to recommend itself, not only to professed Christians of _all_
denominations, but also to the general reader. The arrangement of the texts
illustrated with the notes, in the order of the chapters and verses of the
authorized version of the Bible, will render it convenient for reference to
particular passages; while the copious _Index_ at the end will at once
enable the reader to turn to every subject discussed in the volume.
_This volume is not designed to take the place of Commentaries, but is a
distinct department of biblical instruction, and may be used as a companion
to the Comprehensive or any other Commentary, or the Holy Bible._
THE ENGRAVINGS
In this volume, it is believed, will form no small part of its attractions.
No pains have been spared to procure such as should embellish the work,
and, at the same time, illustrate the text. Objections that have been made
to the pictures commonly introduced into the Bible, as being mere creations
of fancy and the imagination, often unlike nature, and frequently conveying
false impressions, cannot be urged against the pictorial illustrations of
this volume. Here the fine arts are made subservient to utility, the
landscape views being, without an exception, _matter-of-fact views of
places mentioned in Scripture, as they appear at the present day_; thus in
many instances exhibiting, in the most forcible manner, _to the eye_, the
strict and _literal_ fulfilment of the remarkable prophecies; "the present
ruined and desolate condition of the cities of Babylon, Nineveh, Selah,
&c., and the countries of Edom and Egypt, are astonishing examples, and so
completely exemplify, in the most minute particulars, every thing which was
foretold of them in the height of their prosperity, that no better
description can now be given of them than a simple quotation from a chapter
and verse of the Bible written nearly two or three thousand years ago." The
publishers are enabled to select from several collections lately published
in London, the proprietor of one of which says that "several distinguished
travellers have afforded him the use of nearly _Three Hundred Original
Sketches_" of Scripture places, made upon the spot. "The land of Palestine,
it is well known, abounds in scenes of the most picturesque beauty. Syria
comprehends the snowy heights of Lebanon, and the majestic ruins of Tadmor
and Baalbec."
The above work can be had in various styles of binding.
Price from $1.50 to $5.00.
* * * * *
THE ILLUSTRATED CONCORDANCE,
In one volume, royal 8vo.
A new, full, and complete Concordance; illustrated with monumental,
traditional, and oriental accounts, a more valuable work than either
Butterworth, Cruden, or any other similar book in the language.
The value of a Concordance is now generally understood; and those who have
used one, consider it indispensable in connection with the Bible. Some of
the many advantages the Illustrated Concordance has over all the others,
are, that it contains near two hundred appropriate engravings; it is
printed on fine white paper, with beautiful large type.
Price One Dollar.
* * * * *
LIPPINCOTT'S EDITION OF
BAGSTER'S COMPREHENSIVE BIBLE.
In order to develope the peculiar nature of the Comprehensive Bible, it
will only be necessary to embrace its more prominent features.
1st. The SACRED TEXT is that of the Authorized Version, and is printed from
the edition corrected and improved by Dr. Blaney, which, from its accuracy,
is considered the standard edition.
2d. The VARIOUS READINGS are faithfully printed from the edition of Dr.
Blaney, inclusive of the translation of the proper names, without the
addition or diminution of one.
3d. In the CHRONOLOGY, great care has been taken to fix the date of the
particular transactions, which has seldom been done with any degree of
exactness in any former edition of the Bible.
4th. The NOTES are exclusively philological and explanatory, and are not
tinctured with sentiments of any sect or party. They are selected from the
most eminent Biblical critics and commentators.
It is hoped that this edition of the Holy Bible will be found to contain
the essence of Biblical research and criticism, that lies dispersed through
an immense number of volumes.
Such is the nature and design of this edition of the Sacred Volume, which,
from the various objects it embraces, the freedom of its pages from all
sectarian peculiarities, and the beauty, plainness, and correctness of the
typography, that it cannot fail of proving acceptable and useful to
Christians of every denomination.
In addition to the usual references to parallel passages, which are quite
full and numerous, the student has all the marginal readings, together with
a rich selection of _Philological, Critical, Historical, Geographical_, and
other valuable notes and remarks, which explain and illustrate the sacred
text. Besides the general introduction, containing valuable essays on the
genuineness, authenticity, and inspiration of the Holy Scriptures, and
other topics of interest, there are introductory and concluding remarks to
each book--a table of the contents of the Bible, by which the different
portions are so arranged as to read in an historical order.
Arranged at the top of each page is the period in which the prominent
events of sacred history took place. The calculations are made for the year
of the world before and after Christ, Julian Period, the year of the
Olympiad, the year of the building of Rome, and other notations of time. At
the close is inserted a Chronological Index of the Bible, according to the
computation of Archbishop Ussher. Also, a full and valuable index of the
_subjects_ contained in the Old and New Testaments, with a careful analysis
and arrangement of texts under their appropriate subjects.
Mr. Greenfield, the editor of this work, and for some time previous to his
death the superintendent of the editorial department of the British and
Foreign Bible Society, was a most extraordinary man. In editing the
Comprehensive Bible, his varied and extensive learning was called into
successful exercise, and appears in happy combination with sincere piety
and a sound judgment. The Editor of the Christian Observer, alluding to
this work, in an obituary notice of its author, speaks of it as a work of
"prodigious labour and research, at once exhibiting his varied talents and
profound erudition."
* * * * *
LIPPINCOTT'S EDITION OF
THE OXFORD QUARTO BIBLE.
The Publishers have spared neither care nor expense in their edition of the
Bible; it is printed on the finest white vellum paper, with large and
beautiful type, and bound in the most substantial and splendid manner, in
the following styles: Velvet, with richly gilt ornaments; Turkey super
extra, with gilt clasps; and in numerous others, to suit the taste of the
most fastidious.
OPINIONS OF THE PRESS.
"In our opinion, the Christian public generally will feel under great
obligations to the publishers of this work for the beautiful taste,
arrangement, and delicate neatness with which they have got it out. The
intrinsic merit of the Bible recommends itself; it needs no tinsel ornament
to adorn its sacred pages. In this edition every superfluous ornament has
been avoided, and we have presented us a perfectly chaste specimen of the
Bible, without note or comment. It appears to be just what is needed in
every family--'the _unsophisticated_ word of God.'
"The size is quarto, printed with beautiful type, on white, sized vellum
paper, of the finest texture and most beautiful surface. The publishers
seem to have been solicitous to make a perfectly unique book, and they have
accomplished the object very successfully. We trust that a liberal
community will afford them ample remuneration for all the expense and
outlay they have necessarily incurred in its publication. It is a standard
Bible.
"The publishers are Messrs. Lippincott, Grambo & Co., No. 14 North Fourth
street, Philadelphia."--_Baptist Record._
"A beautiful quarto edition of the Bible, by L., G. & Co. Nothing can
exceed the type in clearness and beauty; the paper is of the finest
texture, and the whole execution is exceedingly neat. No illustrations or
ornamental type are used. Those who prefer a Bible executed in perfect
simplicity, yet elegance of style, without adornment, will probably never
find one more to their taste."--_M. Magazine_.
"A beautiful quarto edition of the Bible, by L., G. & Co. Nothing can exceed
the type in clearness and beauty; the paper is of the finest texture, and
the whole execution is exceedingly neat. No illustrations or ornamental
type are used. Those who prefer a Bible executed in perfect simplicity, yet
elegance of style, without adornment, will probably never find one more to
their taste."--_M. Magazine._
* * * * *
LIPPINCOTT'S EDITIONS OF
THE HOLY BIBLE.
SIX DIFFERENT SIZES,
Printed in the best manner, with beautiful type, on the finest sized paper,
and bound in the most splendid and substantial styles. Warranted to be
correct, and equal to the best English editions, at much less price. To be
had with or without plates; the publishers having supplied themselves with
over fifty steel engravings, by the first artists.
Baxter's Comprehensive Bible,
Royal quarto, containing the various readings and marginal notes;
disquisitions on the genuineness, authenticity, and inspiration of the Holy
Scriptures; introductory and concluding remarks to each book; philological
and explanatory notes; table of contents, arranged in historical order; a
chronological index, and various other matter; forming a suitable book for
the study of clergymen, Sabbath-school teachers, and students.
In neat plain binding, from $4.00 to $5.00.--In Turkey morocco, extra, gilt
edges, from $8.00 to $12.00.--In do., with splendid plates, $10.00 to
$15.00.--In do., bevelled side, gilt clasps and illuminations, $15.00 to
$25.00.
The Oxford Quarto Bible,
Without note or comment, universally admitted to be the most beautiful
Bible extant. In neat plain binding, from $4.00 to $5.00.--In Turkey
morocco, extra, gilt edges, $8.00 to $12.00.--In do., with steel
engravings, $10.00 to $15.00.--In do., clasps, &c., with plates and
illuminations, $15.00 to $25.00.--In rich velvet, with gilt ornaments,
$25.00 to $50.00.
Crown Octavo Bible,
Printed with large clear type, making a most convenient hand Bible for
family use.
In neat plain binding, from 75 cents to $1.50.--In English Turkey morocco,
gilt edges, $1.00 to $2.00.--In do., imitation, &c., $1.50 to $3.00.--In
do., clasps, &c., $2.50 to 56.00.--In rich velvet, with gilt ornaments,
$5.00 to $10.00.
The Sunday-School Teacher's Polyglot Bible, with Maps, &c.,
In neat plain binding, from 60 cents to $1.00.--In imitation gilt edge.
$1.00 to $1.50.--In Turkey, super extra, $1.75 to $2.25.--In do. do., with
clasps, $2.50 to $3.75.--In velvet, rich gilt ornaments, $3.50 to $8.00.
The Oxford 18mo., or Pew Bible,
In neat plain binding, from 50 cents to $1.00.--In imitation gilt edge,
$1.00 to $1.50.--In Turkey super extra, $1.75 to $2.25.--In do. do., with
clasps, $2.50 to $3.75.--In velvet, rich gilt ornaments, $3.50 to $8.00.