our
slaves are allowed to set the will of their masters at defiance, there
will be no getting along with them,--an insurrection will be the next
thing we hear of."

"No, no," said the preacher; "I am willing to let the law take its
course, as it provides for the punishment of a slave with death if he
strikes his master. We had better let the court decide the question.
Moreover, as a Christian and God-fearing people, we ought to submit to
the dictates of justice. Should we take this man's life by force, an
Allwise Providence would hold us responsible for the act."

The company then quietly withdrew, showing that the preacher had some
influence with his people.

"This," said Mr. Wilson, when left alone with his daughter,--"this, my
dear Georgiana, is the result of your kindness to the negroes. You have
spoiled every one about the house. I can't whip one of them, without
being in danger of having my life taken."

"I am sure, papa," replied the young lady,--"I am sure I never did
any thing intentionally to induce any of the servants to disobey your
orders."

"No, my dear," said Mr. Wilson, "but you are too kind to them. Now,
there is Clotelle,--that girl is completely spoiled. She walks about the
house with as dignified an air as if she was mistress of the premises.
By and by you will be sorry for this foolishness of yours."

"But," answered Georgiana, "Clotelle has a superior mind, and God
intended her to hold a higher position in life than that of a servant."

"Yes, my dear, and it was your letting her know that she was intended
for a better station in society that is spoiling her. Always keep a
negro in ignorance of what you conceive to be his abilities," returned
the parson.

It was late on the Saturday afternoon, following the capture of Jerome
that, while Mr. Wilson was seated in his study preparing his sermon for
the next day, Georgiana entered the room and asked in an excited tone if
it were true that Jerome was to hanged on the following Thursday.

The minister informed her that such was the decision of the court.

"Then," said she, "Clotelle will die of grief."

"What business has she to die of grief?" returned the father, his eyes
at the moment flashing fire.

"She has neither eaten nor slept since he was captured," replied
Georgiana; "and I am certain that she will not live through this."

"I cannot be disturbed now," said the parson; "I must get my sermon
ready for to-morrow. I expect to have s