"My heart is not hard, Nathaniel," answered uncle Jack; "but I love my own people too well to try and make them discontented with a situation from which they cannot escape, but which may be ameliorated, if they show themselves peaceable, quiet, and faithful. It is my duty to preach peace and good will, resignation to the will of God and dependence upon his mercy; and not to stimulate men's passions, either in a right or wrong cause, to conduct which may end, God only knows how." While the two negroes had been speaking, Mr. McGrubber had evidently been upon thorns; though, at the end of uncle Jack's reply, he had put on a look of meek and pious resignation. "Far be it from me, brother," he said, "to stimulate men's passions or induce them to act in any violent and hasty manner. God forbid that I should bring poor people into trouble, or do anything, which is not pointed out by calm reason and religion. But we are told that we shall not spare to speak God's truth; and when I am asked what is right and what is wrong, must I not say what is right? Ay, if any poor soul demands of me, 'Has my fellow-man a right to keep me in bondage?' wouldst thou have me reply 'Yea' or 'Nay?' I preach the truth, brother; let the results be what they may. That is in God's hand, not mine." Uncle Jack shook his head, with a somewhat melancholy look; but merely said, "The Apostle teaches us to be obedient to the powers that are; and again, we are told that servants should obey their masters. He who teaches differently, I cannot look upon as speaking by the Holy Spirit, and I fear that evil will come of it." Thus saying, he left the cabin; and Bessy Davenport and I followed, after having taken leave of Nat Turner. I thought, as I walked away, that I heard the voice of Mr. McGrubber, raised loudly and harshly; and I doubted not that poor Nat was receiving a stout reproof for having betrayed to the ears of others the nature of the reverend gentleman's communications with himself. On the whole, my visit had a good deal disappointed me. My first interview with Nat Turner had impressed me with an idea that he was very much more superior to the rest of his race than I found him upon further acquaintance. That he was superior, there could be no doubt; but I thought I had discovered traits in him that day of almost all the peculiar weaknesses of tho African race. That he was cunning, superstitious, and conceited, was very clear; and there was something in the expression of his face and the glance of his eye which inclined me to believe that there might be a certain degree of ruthless cruelty and fierce passion within, though now concealed, if not subdued, by the command he had acquired over himself.