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 poor wretch out to perish in that storm, no matter what would have come of it after."

Phillis had gained confidence as she proceeded, and Mr. Weston heard her without interruption.

"I can hardly blame you," he then said, "for what you have done; but, Phillis, it must never be repeated. Jim is a great rascal, and if I were his master I would be glad to be rid of him, but my plantation must not shelter runaway slaves. I am responsible for what my servants do. I should be inclined to hold other gentlemen responsible for the conduct of theirs. The laws of Virginia require the rights of the master to be respected, and though I shan't make a constable of myself, still I will not allow any such thing to be repeated. Did Bacchus know it?"

"No, indeed, sir; he hates Jim, and no good, may be, would have come of his knowing it; besides, he was asleep long after Jim went off, and there was too much whiskey in him to depend on what he'd have to say."

"That will do, Phillis; and see that such a thing never happens again," said Mr. Weston.

Phillis went back to her ironing, assured her master was not angry with her. Yet she sighed as she thought of his saying, "see that such a thing never happens again." "If it had been a clear night," she thought within herself, "he shouldn't have stayed there. But it was the Lord himself that sent the storm, and I can't see that he never sends another. Anyway its done, and can't be helped;" and Phillis busied herself with her work and her children.

I have not given Phillis's cottage as a specimen of the cabins of the negroes of the South. It is described from the house of a favorite servant. Yet are their cabins generally, healthy and airy. Interest, as well as a wish for the comfort and happiness of the slave, dictates an attention to his wants and feelings. "Slavery," says Voltaire, "is as ancient as war; war as human nature." It is to be wished that truth had some such intimate connection with