were not good Christians, like the people out here North." We were,
nevertheless, still oppressed by a load of guilt, and felt the
insupportable gnawings of a guilty conscience. We had oppressed the
poor and robbed the widow and orphans! We had defrauded our neighbor
and slandered our brother! We had lied to both God and man! "Can it be
possible," (said we to ourselves), "that there are human beings
living, who have been guilty of more abominable crimes?" "What is more
odious?" "What could be more detestable?" "What could render a human
being more obnoxious to eternal vengeance?" We were in this deplorable
condition, when we first set about trying to deceive ourselves. We
pondered the matter well, and could devise no means, that in our
judgment, would be so likely to bring relief to our troubled minds, as
to find that there were others who were as bad, or probably a little
worse than ourselves. We flattered ourselves, that while we were
talking about the sins of others, we might forget our own; and at
length be able to persuade ourselves that we were Christians. But it
was all of no avail. Our consciences said "nay"--the Bible said "nay."
It was at this critical moment, that Uncle Tom's Cabin came to our
relief, and it settled the difficulty. It proved to our satisfaction,
that these Southern people were infinitely worse than ourselves. We
now found but little difficulty in persuading ourselves that we were
really Christians. We then had Southern men just where we had long
been trying to place them. We had nothing then to do, but to compare
ourselves with them; and the result of the whole matter was, Mrs.
Stowe had made them out so much worse than ourselves, that we were
forced to the conclusion, that we were good Christians at last.

Mrs. Stowe was a shrewd Yankee woman, and seeing the difficulties and
embarrassments in which we were involved, and being in need of a
little money, and knowing that we were willing to pay almost any price