Maxwell smiles at such singularly out of place remarks on religion.  They are not uncommon in the south, notwithstanding.

A few minutes elapsed, when Dandy opened the door, and entered the room, followed by a creature-a piece of property!-in which the right of a soul had been disputed, not alone by Marston, but by southern ministers and southern philosophers.  The thing was very good-looking, very black;-it had straight features, differing from the common African, and stood very erect.  We have said he differed from the common African-we mean, as he is recognised through our prejudices.  His forehead was bold and well-developed-his hair short, thick and crispy, eyes keen and piercing, cheeks regularly declining into a well-shaped mouth and chin.  Dejected and forlorn, the wretch of chance stood before them, the fires of a burning soul glaring forth from his quick, wandering eyes.  “There!” exclaimed Marston.  “See that,” pointing at his extremes; “he has foot enough for a brick-maker, and a head equal to a deacon-no insinuation, my friend,” bowing to Deacon Rosebrook.  “They say it takes a big head to get into Congress; but I’m afraid, Harry, I’d never get there.”

The door again opened, and another clever-looking old negro, anxious to say “how de do” to mas’r and his visitors, made his appearance, bowing, and keeping time with his foot.  “Oh, here’s my old daddy-old Daddy Bob, one of the best old niggers on the plantation; Harry and Bob are my deacons.  There,—­stand there, Harry; tell these gentlemen,—­they are right glad to see you,—­what you know about Elder Praiseworthy’s sermon, and what you can do in the way of preaching,” says Marston, laughing good-naturedly.

“Rather a rough piece of property to make a preacher of,” muttered Maxwell.

The poor fellow’s feet were encrusted as hard as an alligator’s back; and there he stood, a picture upon which the sympathies of Christendom were enlisted-a human object without the rights of man, in a free republic.  He held a red cap in his left hand, a pair of coarse osnaburg trousers reached a few inches below his knees, and, together with a ragged shirt of the same material, constituted his covering.

“You might have dressed yourself before you appeared before gentlemen from abroad-at least, put on your new jacket,” said Marston.

“Why, mas’r, t’ant de clothes.  God neber make Christian wid’e his clothes on;-den, mas’r, I gin’ my new jacket to Daddy Bob.  But neber mind him, mas’r-you wants I to tell you what I tinks ob de Lor.  I tink great site ob the Bible, mas’r, but me don’ tink much ob Elder’s sermon, mas’r.”

“How is that, Harry?” interrupted the deacon.

“Why, Mas’r Deacon, ye sees how when ye preaches de good tings ob de Lor’, ye mus’nt ’dulge in ’e wicked tings on ’arth.  A’h done want say Mas’r Elder do dem tings-but ‘e seem to me t’ warn’t right wen ’e join de wickedness ob de world, and preach so ebery Sunday.  He may know de varse, and de chapter, but ‘e done preach what de Lor’ say, nohow.”