"  And  then,"  continued  Mr.  Erskine,  who  was  deter-
mined to  conclude  his  reply  before  Mr.  Pettibone,  who
was  then  rising  from  his.  seat,  passed  out  of  the
portico,  "you  flatter  yourselves  with  an  impression
that  you  are  ameliorating  the  ijondition  of  the  down-
trodden, and  call  this  service  philanthropy  1 "

Mr.  Pettibone  was,  all  of  a  sudden,  in  a  hurry  to
get  up  to  the  capitol,  as  he  had  the  floor  that  day  in
the  "House."

Mr.  Erskine,  as  the  reader  perhaps  may  have  al-
ready anticipated,  was  a  Virginia  "  gentleman  of  the
old  school,"  of  refined  sentiments  and  manners,  and
the  owner  of  a  large  landed  estate,  situate  in  the  county


I


imOLE  TOM'b  OABm  AS  IT  IS.  16

of  Frederick,  west  of  the  Blue  Ridge  range  of  moun-
tains. That  estate  had  been  his  home  for  more  than
half  a  century,  and  came  into  his  possession  as  the
legitimate  inheritance  from  his  ancestor.  Plentifully
stocked  with  negroes  that  were  bom  and  reared  there,
the  plantation  was  "  well  worked,"  and  yielded,  from
year  to  year,  an  abundant  harvest.  Notwithstanding
he  was  thus  favored  with  the  riches  of  this  world,  and
the  blessings  and  pleasures  consequent  thereon,  he
did  not  occupy  a  singular  position,  nor  was  he  isolated
from  his  fellow-citizens.  It  was  not  a  remarkable  nor
uncommon  condition  in  that  latitude.  Whoever,  at
the  time  of  which  we  write,  or  at  this  day,  should
traverse  the  country  lying  between  the  Blue  Ridge
and  the  Alleghany  mountains,  would  pass  over  many
a  plantation,  as  fair  and  pleasant  as  that  of  Mr.  Er-
skine,  and  as  well  supplied  with  an  abject  race  of
humanity.  We  say  abject,  but  do  not  mean  worth-
less; for  the  traveling  observer  would  find  the  race
really  "  hewers  of  wood  and  drawers  of  water,"  such
as  it  had  been  through  a  long  series  of  generations.
