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chapter xxxviiithe victory "thanks be unto god, who giveth us thevictory." (note: i cor. 15:57.) have not many of us, in the weary way oflife, felt, in some hours, how far easier it were to die than to live? the martyr, when faced even by a death ofbodily anguish and horror, finds in the very terror of his doom a strong stimulantand tonic. there is a vivid excitement, a thrill andfervor, which may carry through any crisis of suffering that is the birth-hour ofeternal glory and rest.

but to live,--to wear on, day after day, ofmean, bitter, low, harassing servitude, every nerve dampened and depressed, everypower of feeling gradually smothered,--this long and wasting heart-martyrdom, this slow, daily bleeding away of the inwardlife, drop by drop, hour after hour,--this is the true searching test of what theremay be in man or woman. when tom stood face to face with hispersecutor, and heard his threats, and thought in his very soul that his hour wascome, his heart swelled bravely in him, and he thought he could bear torture and fire, bear anything, with the vision of jesus andheaven but just a step beyond; but, when he

was gone, and the present excitement passedoff, came back the pain of his bruised and weary limbs,--came back the sense of his utterly degraded, hopeless, forlorn estate;and the day passed wearily enough. long before his wounds were healed, legreeinsisted that he should be put to the regular field-work; and then came day afterday of pain and weariness, aggravated by every kind of injustice and indignity that the ill-will of a mean and malicious mindcould devise. whoever, in our circumstances, has madetrial of pain, even with all the alleviations which, for us, usually attendit, must know the irritation that comes

with it. tom no longer wondered at the habitualsurliness of his associates; nay, he found the placid, sunny temper, which had beenthe habitude of his life, broken in on, and sorely strained, by the inroads of the samething. he had flattered himself on leisure to readhis bible; but there was no such thing as leisure there. in the height of the season, legree did nothesitate to press all his hands through, sundays and week-days alike. why shouldn't he?--he made more cotton byit, and gained his wager; and if it wore

out a few more hands, he could buy betterones. at first, tom used to read a verse or twoof his bible, by the flicker of the fire, after he had returned from his daily toil;but, after the cruel treatment he received, he used to come home so exhausted, that his head swam and his eyes failed when he triedto read; and he was fain to stretch himself down, with the others, in utter exhaustion. is it strange that the religious peace andtrust, which had upborne him hitherto, should give way to tossings of soul anddespondent darkness? the gloomiest problem of this mysteriouslife was constantly before his eyes,--souls

crushed and ruined, evil triumphant, andgod silent. it was weeks and months that tom wrestled,in his own soul, in darkness and sorrow. he thought of miss ophelia's letter to hiskentucky friends, and would pray earnestly that god would send him deliverance. and then he would watch, day after day, inthe vague hope of seeing somebody sent to redeem him; and, when nobody came, he wouldcrush back to his soul bitter thoughts,-- that it was vain to serve god, that god hadforgotten him. he sometimes saw cassy; and sometimes, whensummoned to the house, caught a glimpse of the dejected form of emmeline, but heldvery little communion with either; in fact,

there was no time for him to commune withanybody. one evening, he was sitting, in utterdejection and prostration, by a few decaying brands, where his coarse supperwas baking. he put a few bits of brushwood on the fire,and strove to raise the light, and then drew his worn bible from his pocket. there were all the marked passages, whichhad thrilled his soul so often,--words of patriarchs and seers, poets and sages, whofrom early time had spoken courage to man -,-voices from the great cloud of witnesseswho ever surround us in the race of life. had the word lost its power, or could thefailing eye and weary sense no longer

answer to the touch of that mightyinspiration? heavily sighing, he put it in his pocket. a coarse laugh roused him; he looked up,--legree was standing opposite to him. "well, old boy," he said, "you find yourreligion don't work, it seems! i thought i should get that through yourwool, at last!" the cruel taunt was more than hunger andcold and nakedness. tom was silent. "you were a fool," said legree; "for imeant to do well by you, when i bought you. you might have been better off than sambo,or quimbo either, and had easy times; and,

instead of getting cut up and thrashed,every day or two, ye might have had liberty to lord it round, and cut up the other niggers; and ye might have had, now andthen, a good warming of whiskey punch. come, tom, don't you think you'd better bereasonable?--heave that ar old pack of trash in the fire, and join my church!" "the lord forbid!" said tom, fervently."you see the lord an't going to help you; if he had been, he wouldn't have let me getyou! this yer religion is all a mess of lyingtrumpery, tom. i know all about it.ye'd better hold to me; i'm somebody, and

can do something!" "no, mas'r," said tom; "i'll hold on.the lord may help me, or not help; but i'll hold to him, and believe him to the last!" "the more fool you!" said legree, spittingscornfully at him, and spurning him with his foot. "never mind; i'll chase you down, yet, andbring you under,--you'll see!" and legree turned away. when a heavy weight presses the soul to thelowest level at which endurance is possible, there is an instant and desperateeffort of every physical and moral nerve to

throw off the weight; and hence the heaviest anguish often precedes a returntide of joy and courage. so was it now with tom. the atheistic taunts of his cruel mastersunk his before dejected soul to the lowest ebb; and, though the hand of faith stillheld to the eternal rock, it was a numb, despairing grasp. tom sat, like one stunned, at the fire.suddenly everything around him seemed to fade, and a vision rose before him of onecrowned with thorns, buffeted and bleeding. tom gazed, in awe and wonder, at themajestic patience of the face; the deep,

pathetic eyes thrilled him to his inmostheart; his soul woke, as, with floods of emotion, he stretched out his hands and fell upon his knees,--when, gradually, thevision changed: the sharp thorns became rays of glory; and, in splendorinconceivable, he saw that same face bending compassionately towards him, and a voice said, "he that overcometh shall sitdown with me on my throne, even as i also overcome, and am set down with my father onhis throne." how long tom lay there, he knew not. when he came to himself, the fire was goneout, his clothes were wet with the chill

and drenching dews; but the dread soul-crisis was past, and, in the joy that filled him, he no longer felt hunger, cold,degradation, disappointment, wretchedness. from his deepest soul, he that hour loosedand parted from every hope in life that now is, and offered his own will anunquestioning sacrifice to the infinite. tom looked up to the silent, ever-livingstars,--types of the angelic hosts who ever look down on man; and the solitude of thenight rung with the triumphant words of a hymn, which he had sung often in happierdays, but never with such feeling as now: "the earth shall be dissolved like snow,the sun shall cease to shine; but god, who called me here below,shall be forever mine.

"and when this mortal life shall fail,and flesh and sense shall cease, i shall possess within the veila life of joy and peace. "when we've been there ten thousand years,bright shining like the sun, we've no less days to sing god's praisethan when we first begun." those who have been familiar with thereligious histories of the slave population know that relations like what we havenarrated are very common among them. we have heard some from their own lips, ofa very touching and affecting character. the psychologist tells us of a state, inwhich the affections and images of the mind become so dominant and overpowering, thatthey press into their service the outward

imagining. who shall measure what an all-pervadingspirit may do with these capabilities of our mortality, or the ways in which he mayencourage the desponding souls of the desolate? if the poor forgotten slave believes thatjesus hath appeared and spoken to him, who shall contradict him? did he not say that his, mission, in allages, was to bind up the broken-hearted, and set at liberty them that are bruised? when the dim gray of dawn woke theslumberers to go forth to the field, there

was among those tattered and shiveringwretches one who walked with an exultant tread; for firmer than the ground he trod on was his strong faith in almighty,eternal love. ah, legree, try all your forces now! utmost agony, woe, degradation, want, andloss of all things, shall only hasten on the process by which he shall be made aking and a priest unto god! from this time, an inviolable sphere ofpeace encompassed the lowly heart of the oppressed one,--an ever-present saviourhallowed it as a temple. past now the bleeding of earthly regrets;past its fluctuations of hope, and fear,

and desire; the human will, bent, andbleeding, and struggling long, was now entirely merged in the divine. so short now seemed the remaining voyage oflife,--so near, so vivid, seemed eternal blessedness,--that life's uttermost woesfell from him unharming. all noticed the change in his appearance. cheerfulness and alertness seemed to returnto him, and a quietness which no insult or injury could ruffle seemed to possess him."what the devil's got into tom?" legree said to sambo. "a while ago he was all down in the mouth,and now he's peart as a cricket."

"dunno, mas'r; gwine to run off, mebbe.""like to see him try that," said legree, with a savage grin, "wouldn't we, sambo?" "guess we would!haw! haw! ho!" said the sooty gnome, laughing obsequiously."lord, de fun! to see him stickin' in de mud,--chasin' andtarin' through de bushes, dogs a holdin' on to him!lord, i laughed fit to split, dat ar time we cotched molly. i thought they'd a had her all stripped upafore i could get 'em off. she car's de marks o' dat ar spree yet.""i reckon she will, to her grave," said

legree. "but now, sambo, you look sharp.if the nigger's got anything of this sort going, trip him up.""mas'r, let me lone for dat," said sambo, "i'll tree de coon. ho, ho, ho!"this was spoken as legree was getting on his horse, to go to the neighboring town. that night, as he was returning, he thoughthe would turn his horse and ride round the quarters, and see if all was safe. it was a superb moonlight night, and theshadows of the graceful china trees lay

minutely pencilled on the turf below, andthere was that transparent stillness in the air which it seems almost unholy todisturb. legree was a little distance from thequarters, when he heard the voice of some one singing. it was not a usual sound there, and hepaused to listen. a musical tenor voice sang, "when i can read my title clearto mansions in the skies, i'll bid farewell to every fear,and wipe my weeping eyes "should earth against my soul engage,and hellish darts be hurled,

then i can smile at satan's rage,and face a frowning world. "let cares like a wild deluge come,and storms of sorrow fall, may i but safely reach my home,my god, my heaven, my all." (note: "on my journey home," hymn byisaac watts, found in many of the southern country songbooks of the ante bellumperiod.) "so ho!" said legree to himself, "he thinksso, does he? how i hate these cursed methodist hymns! here, you nigger," said he, coming suddenlyout upon tom, and raising his riding-whip, "how dare you be gettin' up this yer row,when you ought to be in bed?

shut yer old black gash, and get along inwith you!" "yes, mas'r," said tom, with readycheerfulness, as he rose to go in. legree was provoked beyond measure by tom'sevident happiness; and riding up to him, belabored him over his head and shoulders."there, you dog," he said, "see if you'll feel so comfortable, after that!" but the blows fell now only on the outerman, and not, as before, on the heart. tom stood perfectly submissive; and yetlegree could not hide from himself that his power over his bond thrall was somehowgone. and, as tom disappeared in his cabin, andhe wheeled his horse suddenly round, there

passed through his mind one of those vividflashes that often send the lightning of conscience across the dark and wicked soul. he understood full well that it was god whowas standing between him and his victim, and he blasphemed him. that submissive and silent man, whomtaunts, nor threats, nor stripes, nor cruelties, could disturb, roused a voicewithin him, such as of old his master roused in the demoniac soul, saying, "what have we to do with thee, thou jesus ofnazareth?--art thou come to torment us before the time?"

tom's whole soul overflowed with compassionand sympathy for the poor wretches by whom he was surrounded. to him it seemed as if his life-sorrowswere now over, and as if, out of that strange treasury of peace and joy, withwhich he had been endowed from above, he longed to pour out something for the reliefof their woes. it is true, opportunities were scanty; but,on the way to the fields, and back again, and during the hours of labor, chances fellin his way of extending a helping-hand to the weary, the disheartened anddiscouraged. the poor, worn-down, brutalized creatures,at first, could scarce comprehend this;

but, when it was continued week after week,and month after month, it began to awaken long-silent chords in their benumbedhearts. gradually and imperceptibly the strange,silent, patient man, who was ready to bear every one's burden, and sought help fromnone,--who stood aside for all, and came last, and took least, yet was foremost to share his little all with any who needed,--the man who, in cold nights, would give up his tattered blanket to add to the comfortof some woman who shivered with sickness, and who filled the baskets of the weaker ones in the field, at the terrible risk ofcoming short in his own measure,--and who,

though pursued with unrelenting cruelty bytheir common tyrant, never joined in uttering a word of reviling or cursing,-- this man, at last, began to have a strangepower over them; and, when the more pressing season was past, and they wereallowed again their sundays for their own use, many would gather together to hearfrom him of jesus. they would gladly have met to hear, andpray, and sing, in some place, together; but legree would not permit it, and morethan once broke up such attempts, with oaths and brutal execrations,--so that the blessed news had to circulate fromindividual to individual.

yet who can speak the simple joy with whichsome of those poor outcasts, to whom life was a joyless journey to a dark unknown,heard of a compassionate redeemer and a heavenly home? it is the statement of missionaries, that,of all races of the earth, none have received the gospel with such eagerdocility as the african. the principle of reliance and unquestioningfaith, which is its foundation, is more a native element in this race than any other;and it has often been found among them, that a stray seed of truth, borne on some breeze of accident into hearts the mostignorant, has sprung up into fruit, whose

abundance has shamed that of higher andmore skilful culture. the poor mulatto woman, whose simple faithhad been well-nigh crushed and overwhelmed, by the avalanche of cruelty and wrong whichhad fallen upon her, felt her soul raised up by the hymns and passages of holy writ, which this lowly missionary breathed intoher ear in intervals, as they were going to and returning from work; and even the half-crazed and wandering mind of cassy was soothed and calmed by his simple andunobtrusive influences. stung to madness and despair by thecrushing agonies of a life, cassy had often resolved in her soul an hour ofretribution, when her hand should avenge on

her oppressor all the injustice and cruelty to which she had been witness, or which shehad in her own person suffered. one night, after all in tom's cabin weresunk in sleep, he was suddenly aroused by seeing her face at the hole between thelogs, that served for a window. she made a silent gesture for him to comeout. tom came out the door.it was between one and two o'clock at night,--broad, calm, still moonlight. tom remarked, as the light of the moon fellupon cassy's large, black eyes, that there was a wild and peculiar glare in them,unlike their wonted fixed despair.

"come here, father tom," she said, layingher small hand on his wrist, and drawing him forward with a force as if the handwere of steel; "come here,--i've news for you." "what, misse cassy?" said tom, anxiously."tom, wouldn't you like your liberty?" "i shall have it, misse, in god's time,"said tom. "ay, but you may have it tonight," saidcassy, with a flash of sudden energy. "come on."tom hesitated. "come!" said she, in a whisper, fixing herblack eyes on him. "come along!he's asleep--sound.

i put enough into his brandy to keep himso. i wish i'd had more,--i shouldn't havewanted you. but come, the back door is unlocked;there's an axe there, i put it there,--his room door is open; i'll show you the way.i'd a done it myself, only my arms are so weak. come along!""not for ten thousand worlds, misse!" said tom, firmly, stopping and holding her back,as she was pressing forward. "but think of all these poor creatures,"said cassy. "we might set them all free, and gosomewhere in the swamps, and find an

island, and live by ourselves; i've heardof its being done. any life is better than this." "no!" said tom, firmly."no! good never comes of wickedness. i'd sooner chop my right hand off!""then i shall do it," said cassy, turning. "o, misse cassy!" said tom, throwinghimself before her, "for the dear lord's sake that died for ye, don't sell yourprecious soul to the devil, that way! nothing but evil will come of it. the lord hasn't called us to wrath.we must suffer, and wait his time." "wait!" said cassy."haven't i waited?--waited till my head is

dizzy and my heart sick? what has he made me suffer?what has he made hundreds of poor creatures suffer?isn't he wringing the life-blood out of you? i'm called on; they call me!his time's come, and i'll have his heart's blood!" "no, no, no!" said tom, holding her smallhands, which were clenched with spasmodic violence."no, ye poor, lost soul, that ye mustn't do.

the dear, blessed lord never shed no bloodbut his own, and that he poured out for us when we was enemies.lord, help us to follow his steps, and love our enemies." "love!" said cassy, with a fierce glare;"love such enemies! it isn't in flesh and blood." "no, misse, it isn't," said tom, lookingup; "but he gives it to us, and that's the victory. when we can love and pray over all andthrough all, the battle's past, and the victory's come,--glory be to god!"and, with streaming eyes and choking voice,

the black man looked up to heaven. and this, oh africa! latest called ofnations,--called to the crown of thorns, the scourge, the bloody sweat, the cross ofagony,--this is to be thy victory; by this shalt thou reign with christ when hiskingdom shall come on earth. the deep fervor of tom's feelings, thesoftness of his voice, his tears, fell like dew on the wild, unsettled spirit of thepoor woman. a softness gathered over the lurid fires ofher eye; she looked down, and tom could feel the relaxing muscles of her hands, asshe said, "didn't i tell you that evil spiritsfollowed me?

o! father tom, i can't pray,--i wish icould. i never have prayed since my children weresold! what you say must be right, i know it must;but when i try to pray, i can only hate and curse. i can't pray!""poor soul!" said tom, compassionately. "satan desires to have ye, and sift ye aswheat. i pray the lord for ye. o! misse cassy, turn to the dear lordjesus. he came to bind up the broken-hearted, andcomfort all that mourn."

cassy stood silent, while large, heavytears dropped from her downcast eyes. "misse cassy," said tom, in a hesitatingtone, after surveying her in silence, "if ye only could get away from here,--if thething was possible,--i'd 'vise ye and emmeline to do it; that is, if ye could gowithout blood-guiltiness,--not otherwise." "would you try it with us, father tom?" "no," said tom; "time was when i would; butthe lord's given me a work among these yer poor souls, and i'll stay with 'em and bearmy cross with 'em till the end. it's different with you; it's a snare toyou,--it's more'n you can stand,--and you'd better go, if you can.""i know no way but through the grave," said

cassy. "there's no beast or bird but can find ahome some where; even the snakes and the alligators have their places to lie downand be quiet; but there's no place for us. down in the darkest swamps, their dogs willhunt us out, and find us. everybody and everything is against us;even the very beasts side against us,--and where shall we go?" tom stood silent; at length he said, "him that saved daniel in the den oflions,--that saves the children in the fiery furnace,--him that walked on the sea,and bade the winds be still,--he's alive

yet; and i've faith to believe he candeliver you. try it, and i'll pray, with all my might,for you." by what strange law of mind is it that anidea long overlooked, and trodden under foot as a useless stone, suddenly sparklesout in new light, as a discovered diamond? cassy had often revolved, for hours, allpossible or probable schemes of escape, and dismissed them all, as hopeless andimpracticable; but at this moment there flashed through her mind a plan, so simple and feasible in all its details, as toawaken an instant hope. "father tom, i'll try it!" she said,suddenly.

"amen!" said tom; "the lord help ye!" > chapter xxxixthe stratagem "the way of the wicked is as darkness; heknoweth not at what he stumbleth." (note: prov.4:19.) the garret of the house that legreeoccupied, like most other garrets, was a great, desolate space, dusty, hung withcobwebs, and littered with cast-off lumber. the opulent family that had inhabited thehouse in the days of its splendor had imported a great deal of splendidfurniture, some of which they had taken

away with them, while some remained standing desolate in mouldering, unoccupiedrooms, or stored away in this place. one or two immense packing-boxes, in whichthis furniture was brought, stood against the sides of the garret. there was a small window there, which letin, through its dingy, dusty panes, a scanty, uncertain light on the tall, high-backed chairs and dusty tables, that had once seen better days. altogether, it was a weird and ghostlyplace; but, ghostly as it was, it wanted not in legends among the superstitiousnegroes, to increase it terrors.

some few years before, a negro woman, whohad incurred legree's displeasure, was confined there for several weeks. what passed there, we do not say; thenegroes used to whisper darkly to each other; but it was known that the body ofthe unfortunate creature was one day taken down from there, and buried; and, after that, it was said that oaths and cursings,and the sound of violent blows, used to ring through that old garret, and mingledwith wailings and groans of despair. once, when legree chanced to overhearsomething of this kind, he flew into a violent passion, and swore that the nextone that told stories about that garret

should have an opportunity of knowing what was there, for he would chain them up therefor a week. this hint was enough to repress talking,though, of course, it did not disturb the credit of the story in the least. gradually, the staircase that led to thegarret, and even the passage-way to the staircase, were avoided by every one in thehouse, from every one fearing to speak of it, and the legend was gradually fallinginto desuetude. it had suddenly occurred to cassy to makeuse of the superstitious excitability, which was so great in legree, for thepurpose of her liberation, and that of her

fellow-sufferer. the sleeping-room of cassy was directlyunder the garret. one day, without consulting legree, shesuddenly took it upon her, with some considerable ostentation, to change all thefurniture and appurtenances of the room to one at some considerable distance. the under-servants, who were called on toeffect this movement, were running and bustling about with great zeal andconfusion, when legree returned from a ride. "hallo! you cass!" said legree, "what's inthe wind now?"

"nothing; only i choose to have anotherroom," said cassy, doggedly. "and what for, pray?" said legree. "i choose to," said cassy."the devil you do! and what for?" "i'd like to get some sleep, now and then.""sleep! well, what hinders your sleeping?" "i could tell, i suppose, if you want tohear," said cassy, dryly. "speak out, you minx!" said legree."o! nothing. i suppose it wouldn't disturb you! only groans, and people scuffing, androlling round on the garret, floor, half the night, from twelve to morning!""people up garret!" said legree, uneasily,

but forcing a laugh; "who are they, cassy?" cassy raised her sharp, black eyes, andlooked in the face of legree, with an expression that went through his bones, asshe said, "to be sure, simon, who are they? i'd like to have you tell me. you don't know, i suppose!" with an oath, legree struck at her with hisriding-whip; but she glided to one side, and passed through the door, and lookingback, said, "if you'll sleep in that room, you'll know all about it. perhaps you'd better try it!" and thenimmediately she shut and locked the door.

legree blustered and swore, and threatenedto break down the door; but apparently thought better of it, and walked uneasilyinto the sitting-room. cassy perceived that her shaft had struckhome; and, from that hour, with the most exquisite address, she never ceased tocontinue the train of influences she had begun. in a knot-hole of the garret, that hadopened, she had inserted the neck of an old bottle, in such a manner that when therewas the least wind, most doleful and lugubrious wailing sounds proceeded from it, which, in a high wind, increased to aperfect shriek, such as to credulous and

superstitious ears might easily seem to bethat of horror and despair. these sounds were, from time to time, heardby the servants, and revived in full force the memory of the old ghost legend. a superstitious creeping horror seemed tofill the house; and though no one dared to breathe it to legree, he found himselfencompassed by it, as by an atmosphere. no one is so thoroughly superstitious asthe godless man. the christian is composed by the belief ofa wise, all-ruling father, whose presence fills the void unknown with light andorder; but to the man who has dethroned god, the spirit-land is, indeed, in the

words of the hebrew poet, "a land ofdarkness and the shadow of death," without any order, where the light is as darkness. life and death to him are haunted grounds,filled with goblin forms of vague and shadowy dread. legree had had the slumbering moralelements in him roused by his encounters with tom,--roused, only to be resisted bythe determinate force of evil; but still there was a thrill and commotion of the dark, inner world, produced by every word,or prayer, or hymn, that reacted in superstitious dread.the influence of cassy over him was of a

strange and singular kind. he was her owner, her tyrant and tormentor. she was, as he knew, wholly, and withoutany possibility of help or redress, in his hands; and yet so it is, that the mostbrutal man cannot live in constant association with a strong female influence,and not be greatly controlled by it. when he first bought her, she was, as shesaid, a woman delicately bred; and then he crushed her, without scruple, beneath thefoot of his brutality. but, as time, and debasing influences, anddespair, hardened womanhood within her, and waked the fires of fiercer passions, shehad become in a measure his mistress, and

he alternately tyrannized over and dreadedher. this influence had become more harassingand decided, since partial insanity had given a strange, weird, unsettled cast toall her words and language. a night or two after this, legree wassitting in the old sitting-room, by the side of a flickering wood fire, that threwuncertain glances round the room. it was a stormy, windy night, such asraises whole squadrons of nondescript noises in rickety old houses. windows were rattling, shutters flapping,and wind carousing, rumbling, and tumbling down the chimney, and, every once in awhile, puffing out smoke and ashes, as if a

legion of spirits were coming after them. legree had been casting up accounts andreading newspapers for some hours, while cassy sat in the corner; sullenly lookinginto the fire. legree laid down his paper, and seeing anold book lying on the table, which he had noticed cassy reading, the first part ofthe evening, took it up, and began to turn it over. it was one of those collections of storiesof bloody murders, ghostly legends, and supernatural visitations, which, coarselygot up and illustrated, have a strange fascination for one who once begins to readthem.

legree poohed and pished, but read, turningpage after page, till, finally, after reading some way, he threw down the book,with an oath. "you don't believe in ghosts, do you,cass?" said he, taking the tongs and settling the fire."i thought you'd more sense than to let noises scare you." "no matter what i believe," said cassy,sullenly. "fellows used to try to frighten me withtheir yarns at sea," said legree. "never come it round me that way. i'm too tough for any such trash, tell ye."cassy sat looking intensely at him in the

shadow of the corner. there was that strange light in her eyesthat always impressed legree with uneasiness."them noises was nothing but rats and the wind," said legree. "rats will make a devil of a noise.i used to hear 'em sometimes down in the hold of the ship; and wind,--lord's sake!ye can make anything out o' wind." cassy knew legree was uneasy under hereyes, and, therefore, she made no answer, but sat fixing them on him, with thatstrange, unearthly expression, as before. "come, speak out, woman,--don't you thinkso?" said legree.

"can rats walk down stairs, and comewalking through the entry, and open a door when you've locked it and set a chairagainst it?" said cassy; "and come walk, walk, walking right up to your bed, and putout their hand, so?" cassy kept her glittering eyes fixed onlegree, as she spoke, and he stared at her like a man in the nightmare, till, when shefinished by laying her hand, icy cold, on his, he sprung back, with an oath. "woman! what do you mean?nobody did?" "o, no,--of course not,--did i say theydid?" said cassy, with a smile of chilling derision.

"but--did--have you really seen?--come,cass, what is it, now,--speak out!" "you may sleep there, yourself," saidcassy, "if you want to know." "did it come from the garret, cassy?" "it,--what?" said cassy."why, what you told of--" "i didn't tell you anything," said cassy,with dogged sullenness. legree walked up and down the room,uneasily. "i'll have this yer thing examined.i'll look into it, this very night. i'll take my pistols--" "do," said cassy; "sleep in that room.i'd like to see you doing it.

fire your pistols,--do!"legree stamped his foot, and swore violently. "don't swear," said cassy; "nobody knowswho may be hearing you. hark!what was that?" "what?" said legree, starting. a heavy old dutch clock, that stood in thecorner of the room, began, and slowly struck twelve. for some reason or other, legree neitherspoke nor moved; a vague horror fell on him; while cassy, with a keen, sneeringglitter in her eyes, stood looking at him,

counting the strokes. "twelve o'clock; well now we'll see," saidshe, turning, and opening the door into the passage-way, and standing as if listening."hark! what's that?" said she, raising her finger. "it's only the wind," said legree."don't you hear how cursedly it blows?" "simon, come here," said cassy, in awhisper, laying her hand on his, and leading him to the foot of the stairs: "doyou know what that is? hark!" a wild shriek came pealing down thestairway.

it came from the garret.legree's knees knocked together; his face grew white with fear. "hadn't you better get your pistols?" saidcassy, with a sneer that froze legree's blood."it's time this thing was looked into, you know. i'd like to have you go up now; they're atit." "i won't go!" said legree, with an oath."why not? there an't any such thing as ghosts, youknow! come!" and cassy flitted up the windingstairway, laughing, and looking back after

him. "come on.""i believe you are the devil!" said legree. "come back you hag,--come back, cass!you shan't go!" but cassy laughed wildly, and fled on. he heard her open the entry doors that ledto the garret. a wild gust of wind swept down,extinguishing the candle he held in his hand, and with it the fearful, unearthlyscreams; they seemed to be shrieked in his very ear. legree fled frantically into the parlor,whither, in a few moments, he was followed

by cassy, pale, calm, cold as an avengingspirit, and with that same fearful light in her eye. "i hope you are satisfied," said she."blast you, cass!" said legree. "what for?" said cassy."i only went up and shut the doors. what's the matter with that garret, simon,do you suppose?" said she. "none of your business!" said legree."o, it an't? well," said cassy, "at any rate, i'm glad idon't sleep under it." anticipating the rising of the wind, thatvery evening, cassy had been up and opened the garret window.

of course, the moment the doors wereopened, the wind had drafted down, and extinguished the light. this may serve as a specimen of the gamethat cassy played with legree, until he would sooner have put his head into alion's mouth than to have explored that garret. meanwhile, in the night, when everybodyelse was asleep, cassy slowly and carefully accumulated there a stock of provisionssufficient to afford subsistence for some time; she transferred, article by article, a greater part of her own and emmeline'swardrobe.

all things being arranged, they only waiteda fitting opportunity to put their plan in execution. by cajoling legree, and taking advantage ofa good-natured interval, cassy had got him to take her with him to the neighboringtown, which was situated directly on the red river. with a memory sharpened to almostpreternatural clearness, she remarked every turn in the road, and formed a mentalestimate of the time to be occupied in traversing it. at the time when all was matured foraction, our readers may, perhaps, like to

look behind the scenes, and see the finalcoup d'etat. it was now near evening, legree had beenabsent, on a ride to a neighboring farm. for many days cassy had been unusuallygracious and accommodating in her humors; and legree and she had been, apparently, onthe best of terms. at present, we may behold her and emmelinein the room of the latter, busy in sorting and arranging two small bundles."there, these will be large enough," said "now put on your bonnet, and let's start;it's just about the right time." "why, they can see us yet," said emmeline."i mean they shall," said cassy, coolly. "don't you know that they must have theirchase after us, at any rate?

the way of the thing is to be just this:--we will steal out of the back door, and run down by the quarters. sambo or quimbo will be sure to see us. they will give chase, and we will get intothe swamp; then, they can't follow us any further till they go up and give the alarm,and turn out the dogs, and so on; and, while they are blundering round, and tumbling over each other, as they alwaysdo, you and i will slip along to the creek, that runs back of the house, and wade alongin it, till we get opposite the back door. that will put the dogs all at fault; forscent won't lie in the water.

every one will run out of the house to lookafter us, and then we'll whip in at the back door, and up into the garret, wherei've got a nice bed made up in one of the great boxes. we must stay in that garret a good while,for, i tell you, he will raise heaven and earth after us. he'll muster some of those old overseers onthe other plantations, and have a great hunt; and they'll go over every inch ofground in that swamp. he makes it his boast that nobody ever gotaway from him. so let him hunt at his leisure.""cassy, how well you have planned it!" said

emmeline. "who ever would have thought of it, butyou?" there was neither pleasure nor exultationin cassy's eyes,--only a despairing firmness. "come," she said, reaching her hand toemmeline. the two fugitives glided noiselessly fromthe house, and flitted, through the gathering shadows of evening, along by thequarters. the crescent moon, set like a silver signetin the western sky, delayed a little the approach of night.

as cassy expected, when quite near theverge of the swamps that encircled the plantation, they heard a voice calling tothem to stop. it was not sambo, however, but legree, whowas pursuing them with violent execrations. at the sound, the feebler spirit ofemmeline gave way; and, laying hold of cassy's arm, she said, "o, cassy, i'm goingto faint!" "if you do, i'll kill you!" said cassy,drawing a small, glittering stiletto, and flashing it before the eyes of the girl.the diversion accomplished the purpose. emmeline did not faint, and succeeded inplunging, with cassy, into a part of the labyrinth of swamp, so deep and dark thatit was perfectly hopeless for legree to

think of following them, withoutassistance. "well," said he, chuckling brutally; "atany rate, they've got themselves into a trap now--the baggage! they're safe enough.they shall sweat for it!" "hulloa, there!sambo! quimbo! all hands!" called legree, coming to thequarters, when the men and women were just returning from work."there's two runaways in the swamps. i'll give five dollars to any nigger ascatches 'em.

turn out the dogs!turn out tiger, and fury, and the rest!" the sensation produced by this news wasimmediate. many of the men sprang forward,officiously, to offer their services, either from the hope of the reward, or fromthat cringing subserviency which is one of the most baleful effects of slavery. some ran one way, and some another.some were for getting flambeaux of pine- knots. some were uncoupling the dogs, whosehoarse, savage bay added not a little to the animation of the scene.

"mas'r, shall we shoot 'em, if can't cotch'em?" said sambo, to whom his master brought out a rifle. "you may fire on cass, if you like; it'stime she was gone to the devil, where she belongs; but the gal, not," said legree."and now, boys, be spry and smart. five dollars for him that gets 'em; and aglass of spirits to every one of you, anyhow." the whole band, with the glare of blazingtorches, and whoop, and shout, and savage yell, of man and beast, proceeded down tothe swamp, followed, at some distance, by every servant in the house.

the establishment was, of a consequence,wholly deserted, when cassy and emmeline glided into it the back way. the whooping and shouts of their pursuerswere still filling the air; and, looking from the sitting-room windows, cassy andemmeline could see the troop, with their flambeaux, just dispersing themselves alongthe edge of the swamp. "see there!" said emmeline, pointing tocassy; "the hunt is begun! look how those lights dance about! hark! the dogs!don't you hear? if we were only there, our chances wouldn'tbe worth a picayune.

o, for pity's sake, do let's hideourselves. quick!" "there's no occasion for hurry," saidcassy, coolly; "they are all out after the hunt,--that's the amusement of the evening!we'll go up stairs, by and by. meanwhile," said she, deliberately taking akey from the pocket of a coat that legree had thrown down in his hurry, "meanwhile ishall take something to pay our passage." she unlocked the desk, took from it a rollof bills, which she counted over rapidly. "o, don't let's do that!" said emmeline."don't!" said cassy; "why not? would you have us starve in the swamps, orhave that that will pay our way to the free

states.money will do anything, girl." and, as she spoke, she put the money in herbosom. "it would be stealing," said emmeline, in adistressed whisper. "stealing!" said cassy, with a scornfullaugh. "they who steal body and soul needn't talkto us. every one of these bills is stolen,--stolenfrom poor, starving, sweating creatures, who must go to the devil at last, for hisprofit. let him talk about stealing! but come, we may as well go up garret; i'vegot a stock of candles there, and some

books to pass away the time.you may be pretty sure they won't come there to inquire after us. if they do, i'll play ghost for them." when emmeline reached the garret, she foundan immense box, in which some heavy pieces of furniture had once been brought, turnedon its side, so that the opening faced the wall, or rather the eaves. cassy lit a small lamp, and creeping roundunder the eaves, they established themselves in it. it was spread with a couple of smallmattresses and some pillows; a box near by

was plentifully stored with candles,provisions, and all the clothing necessary to their journey, which cassy had arranged into bundles of an astonishingly smallcompass. "there," said cassy, as she fixed the lampinto a small hook, which she had driven into the side of the box for that purpose;"this is to be our home for the present. how do you like it?" "are you sure they won't come and searchthe garret?" "i'd like to see simon legree doing that,"said cassy. "no, indeed; he will be too glad to keepaway.

as to the servants, they would any of themstand and be shot, sooner than show their faces here." somewhat reassured, emmeline settledherself back on her pillow. "what did you mean, cassy, by saying youwould kill me?" she said, simply. "i meant to stop your fainting," saidcassy, "and i did do it. and now i tell you, emmeline, you must makeup your mind not to faint, let what will come; there's no sort of need of it. if i had not stopped you, that wretch mighthave had his hands on you now." emmeline shuddered.the two remained some time in silence.

cassy busied herself with a french book;emmeline, overcome with the exhaustion, fell into a doze, and slept some time. she was awakened by loud shouts andoutcries, the tramp of horses' feet, and the baying of dogs.she started up, with a faint shriek. "only the hunt coming back," said cassy,coolly; "never fear. look out of this knot-hole.don't you see 'em all down there? simon has to give up, for this night. look, how muddy his horse is, flouncingabout in the swamp; the dogs, too, look rather crestfallen.

ah, my good sir, you'll have to try therace again and again,--the game isn't there.""o, don't speak a word!" said emmeline; "what if they should hear you?" "if they do hear anything, it will makethem very particular to keep away," said "no danger; we may make any noise weplease, and it will only add to the effect."at length the stillness of midnight settled down over the house. legree, cursing his ill luck, and vowingdire vengeance on the morrow, went to bed. chapter xlthe martyr

"deem not the just by heaven forgot!though life its common gifts deny,-- though, with a crushed and bleeding heart,and spurned of man, he goes to die! for god hath marked each sorrowing day,and numbered every bitter tear, and heaven's long years of bliss shall payfor all his children suffer here." bryant. (note: this poem does not appear in thecollected works of william cullen bryant, nor in the collected poems of his brother,john howard bryant. it was probably copied from a newspaper ormagazine.) the longest way must have its close,--thegloomiest night will wear on to a morning.

an eternal, inexorable lapse of moments isever hurrying the day of the evil to an eternal night, and the night of the just toan eternal day. we have walked with our humble friend thusfar in the valley of slavery; first through flowery fields of ease and indulgence, thenthrough heart-breaking separations from all that man holds dear. again, we have waited with him in a sunnyisland, where generous hands concealed his chains with flowers; and, lastly, we havefollowed him when the last ray of earthly hope went out in night, and seen how, in the blackness of earthly darkness, thefirmament of the unseen has blazed with

stars of new and significant lustre. the morning-star now stands over the topsof the mountains, and gales and breezes, not of earth, show that the gates of dayare unclosing. the escape of cassy and emmeline irritatedthe before surly temper of legree to the last degree; and his fury, as was to beexpected, fell upon the defenceless head of tom. when he hurriedly announced the tidingsamong his hands, there was a sudden light in tom's eye, a sudden upraising of hishands, that did not escape him. he saw that he did not join the muster ofthe pursuers.

he thought of forcing him to do it; but,having had, of old, experience of his inflexibility when commanded to take partin any deed of inhumanity, he would not, in his hurry, stop to enter into any conflictwith him. tom, therefore, remained behind, with a fewwho had learned of him to pray, and offered up prayers for the escape of the fugitives. when legree returned, baffled anddisappointed, all the long-working hatred of his soul towards his slave began togather in a deadly and desperate form. had not this man braved him,--steadily,powerfully, resistlessly,--ever since he bought him?

was there not a spirit in him which, silentas it was, burned on him like the fires of perdition?"i hate him!" said legree, that night, as he sat up in his bed; "i hate him! and isn't he mine?can't i do what i like with him? who's to hinder, i wonder?" and legree clenched his fist, and shook it,as if he had something in his hands that he could rend in pieces. but, then, tom was a faithful, valuableservant; and, although legree hated him the more for that, yet the consideration wasstill somewhat of a restraint to him.

the next morning, he determined to saynothing, as yet; to assemble a party, from some neighboring plantations, with dogs andguns; to surround the swamp, and go about the hunt systematically. if it succeeded, well and good; if not, hewould summon tom before him, and--his teeth clenched and his blood boiled--then hewould break the fellow down, or--there was a dire inward whisper, to which his soulassented. ye say that the interest of the master is asufficient safeguard for the slave. in the fury of man's mad will, he willwittingly, and with open eye, sell his own soul to the devil to gain his ends; andwill he be more careful of his neighbor's

body? "well," said cassy, the next day, from thegarret, as she reconnoitred through the knot-hole, "the hunt's going to beginagain, today!" three or four mounted horsemen werecurvetting about, on the space in front of the house; and one or two leashes ofstrange dogs were struggling with the negroes who held them, baying and barkingat each other. the men are, two of them, overseers ofplantations in the vicinity; and others were some of legree's associates at thetavern-bar of a neighboring city, who had come for the interest of the sport.

a more hard-favored set, perhaps, could notbe imagined. legree was serving brandy, profusely, roundamong them, as also among the negroes, who had been detailed from the variousplantations for this service; for it was an object to make every service of this kind, among the negroes, as much of a holiday aspossible. cassy placed her ear at the knot-hole; and,as the morning air blew directly towards the house, she could overhear a good dealof the conversation. a grave sneer overcast the dark, severegravity of her face, as she listened, and heard them divide out the ground, discussthe rival merits of the dogs, give orders

about firing, and the treatment of each, incase of capture. cassy drew back; and, clasping her hands,looked upward, and said, "o, great almighty god! we are all sinners; but what have wedone, more than all the rest of the world, that we should be treated so?" there was a terrible earnestness in herface and voice, as she spoke. "if it wasn't for you, child," she said,looking at emmeline, "i'd go out to them; and i'd thank any one of them that wouldshoot me down; for what use will freedom be to me? can it give me back my children, or make mewhat i used to be?"

emmeline, in her child-like simplicity, washalf afraid of the dark moods of cassy. she looked perplexed, but made no answer. she only took her hand, with a gentle,caressing movement. "don't!" said cassy, trying to draw itaway; "you'll get me to loving you; and i never mean to love anything, again!" "poor cassy!" said emmeline, "don't feelso! if the lord gives us liberty, perhaps he'llgive you back your daughter; at any rate, i'll be like a daughter to you. i know i'll never see my poor old motheragain!

i shall love you, cassy, whether you loveme or not!" the gentle, child-like spirit conquered. cassy sat down by her, put her arm roundher neck, stroked her soft, brown hair; and emmeline then wondered at the beauty of hermagnificent eyes, now soft with tears. "o, em!" said cassy, "i've hungered for mychildren, and thirsted for them, and my eyes fail with longing for them!here! here!" she said, striking her breast, "it's all desolate, all empty! if god would give me back my children, theni could pray." "you must trust him, cassy," said emmeline;"he is our father!"

"his wrath is upon us," said cassy; "he hasturned away in anger." "no, cassy!he will be good to us! let us hope in him," said emmeline,--"ialways have had hope." the hunt was long, animated, and thorough,but unsuccessful; and, with grave, ironic exultation, cassy looked down on legree,as, weary and dispirited, he alighted from his horse. "now, quimbo," said legree, as he stretchedhimself down in the sitting-room, "you jest go and walk that tom up here, right away! the old cuss is at the bottom of this yerwhole matter; and i'll have it out of his

old black hide, or i'll know the reasonwhy!" sambo and quimbo, both, though hating eachother, were joined in one mind by a no less cordial hatred of tom. legree had told them, at first, that he hadbought him for a general overseer, in his absence; and this had begun an ill will, ontheir part, which had increased, in their debased and servile natures, as they saw him becoming obnoxious to their master'sdispleasure. quimbo, therefore, departed, with a will,to execute his orders. tom heard the message with a forewarningheart; for he knew all the plan of the

fugitives' escape, and the place of theirpresent concealment;--he knew the deadly character of the man he had to deal with,and his despotic power. but he felt strong in god to meet death,rather than betray the helpless. he sat his basket down by the row, and,looking up, said, "into thy hands i commend my spirit! thou hast redeemed me, oh lord god oftruth!" and then quietly yielded himself to the rough, brutal grasp with which quimboseized him. "ay, ay!" said the giant, as he dragged himalong; "ye'll cotch it, now! i'll boun' mas'r's back 's up high!no sneaking out, now!

tell ye, ye'll get it, and no mistake! see how ye'll look, now, helpin' mas'r'sniggers to run away! see what ye'll get!" the savage words none of them reached thatear!--a higher voice there was saying, "fear not them that kill the body, and,after that, have no more that they can do." nerve and bone of that poor man's bodyvibrated to those words, as if touched by the finger of god; and he felt the strengthof a thousand souls in one. as he passed along, the trees and bushes,the huts of his servitude, the whole scene of his degradation, seemed to whirl by himas the landscape by the rushing ear.

his soul throbbed,--his home was in sight,--and the hour of release seemed at hand. "well, tom!" said legree, walking up, andseizing him grimly by the collar of his coat, and speaking through his teeth, in aparoxysm of determined rage, "do you know i've made up my mind to kill you?" "it's very likely, mas'r," said tom,calmly. "i have," said legree, with a grim,terrible calmness, "done--just--that-- thing, tom, unless you'll tell me what youknow about these yer gals!" tom stood silent. "d'ye hear?" said legree, stamping, with aroar like that of an incensed lion.

"speak!" "i han't got nothing to tell, mas'r," saidtom, with a slow, firm, deliberate utterance."do you dare to tell me, ye old black christian, ye don't know?" said legree. tom was silent."speak!" thundered legree, striking him furiously."do you know anything?" "i know, mas'r; but i can't tell anything. i can die!" legree drew in a long breath; and,suppressing his rage, took tom by the arm,

and, approaching his face almost to his,said, in a terrible voice, "hark 'e, tom!-- ye think, 'cause i've let you off before, i don't mean what i say; but, this time,i've made up my mind, and counted the cost. you've always stood it out again' me: now,i'll conquer ye, or kill ye!--one or t' other. i'll count every drop of blood there is inyou, and take 'em, one by one, till ye give up!" tom looked up to his master, and answered,"mas'r, if you was sick, or in trouble, or dying, and i could save ye, i'd give ye myheart's blood; and, if taking every drop of

blood in this poor old body would save your precious soul, i'd give 'em freely, as thelord gave his for me. o, mas'r! don't bring this great sin onyour soul! it will hurt you more than 't will me! do the worst you can, my troubles'll beover soon; but, if ye don't repent, yours won't never end!" like a strange snatch of heavenly music,heard in the lull of a tempest, this burst of feeling made a moment's blank pause. legree stood aghast, and looked at tom; andthere was such a silence, that the tick of

the old clock could be heard, measuring,with silent touch, the last moments of mercy and probation to that hardened heart. it was but a moment. there was one hesitating pause,--oneirresolute, relenting thrill,--and the spirit of evil came back, with seven-foldvehemence; and legree, foaming with rage, smote his victim to the ground. scenes of blood and cruelty are shocking toour ear and heart. what man has nerve to do, man has not nerveto hear. what brother-man and brother-christian mustsuffer, cannot be told us, even in our

secret chamber, it so harrows the soul!and yet, oh my country! these things are done under the shadow of thy laws! o, christ! thy church sees them, almost insilence! but, of old, there was one whose sufferingchanged an instrument of torture, degradation and shame, into a symbol ofglory, honor, and immortal life; and, where his spirit is, neither degrading stripes, nor blood, nor insults, can make thechristian's last struggle less than glorious. was he alone, that long night, whose brave,loving spirit was bearing up, in that old

shed, against buffeting and brutal stripes?nay! there stood by him one,--seen by himalone,--"like unto the son of god." the tempter stood by him, too,--blinded byfurious, despotic will,--every moment pressing him to shun that agony by thebetrayal of the innocent. but the brave, true heart was firm on theeternal rock. like his master, he knew that, if he savedothers, himself he could not save; nor could utmost extremity wring from himwords, save of prayers and holy trust. "he's most gone, mas'r," said sambo,touched, in spite of himself, by the patience of his victim."pay away, till he gives up!

give it to him!--give it to him!" shoutedlegree. "i'll take every drop of blood he has,unless he confesses!" tom opened his eyes, and looked upon hismaster. "ye poor miserable critter!" he said,"there ain't no more ye can do! i forgive ye, with all my soul!" and hefainted entirely away. "i b'lieve, my soul, he's done for,finally," said legree, stepping forward, to look at him. "yes, he is!well, his mouth's shut up, at last,--that's one comfort!"

yes, legree; but who shall shut up thatvoice in thy soul? that soul, past repentance, past prayer, past hope, in whomthe fire that never shall be quenched is already burning! yet tom was not quite gone. his wondrous words and pious prayers hadstruck upon the hearts of the imbruted blacks, who had been the instruments ofcruelty upon him; and, the instant legree withdrew, they took him down, and, in their ignorance, sought to call him back tolife,--as if that were any favor to him. "sartin, we 's been doin' a drefful wickedthing!" said sambo; "hopes mas'r'll have to

'count for it, and not we." they washed his wounds,--they provided arude bed, of some refuse cotton, for him to lie down on; and one of them, stealing upto the house, begged a drink of brandy of legree, pretending that he was tired, andwanted it for himself. he brought it back, and poured it downtom's throat. "o, tom!" said quimbo, "we's been awfulwicked to ye!" "i forgive ye, with all my heart!" saidtom, faintly. "o, tom! do tell us who is jesus, anyhow?"said sambo;--"jesus, that's been a standin' by you so, all this night!--who is he?"the word roused the failing, fainting

spirit. he poured forth a few energetic sentencesof that wondrous one,--his life, his death, his everlasting presence, and power tosave. they wept,--both the two savage men. "why didn't i never hear this before?" saidsambo; "but i do believe!--i can't help it! lord jesus, have mercy on us!" "poor critters!" said tom, "i'd be willingto bar all i have, if it'll only bring ye to christ!o, lord! give me these two more souls, i pray!"

that prayer was answered! chapter xlithe young master two days after, a young man drove a lightwagon up through the avenue of china trees, and, throwing the reins hastily on thehorse's neck, sprang out and inquired for the owner of the place. it was george shelby; and, to show how hecame to be there, we must go back in our story. the letter of miss ophelia to mrs. shelbyhad, by some unfortunate accident, been detained, for a month or two, at someremote post-office, before it reached its

destination; and, of course, before it was received, tom was already lost to viewamong the distant swamps of the red river. mrs. shelby read the intelligence with thedeepest concern; but any immediate action upon it was an impossibility. she was then in attendance on the sick-bedof her husband, who lay delirious in the crisis of a fever. master george shelby, who, in the interval,had changed from a boy to a tall young man, was her constant and faithful assistant,and her only reliance in superintending his father's affairs.

miss ophelia had taken the precaution tosend them the name of the lawyer who did business for the st. clares; and the mostthat, in the emergency, could be done, was to address a letter of inquiry to him. the sudden death of mr. shelby, a few daysafter, brought, of course, an absorbing pressure of other interests, for a season. mr. shelby showed his confidence in hiswife's ability, by appointing her sole executrix upon his estates; and thusimmediately a large and complicated amount of business was brought upon her hands. mrs. shelby, with characteristic energy,applied herself to the work of

straightening the entangled web of affairs;and she and george were for some time occupied with collecting and examining accounts, selling property and settlingdebts; for mrs. shelby was determined that everything should be brought into tangibleand recognizable shape, let the consequences to her prove what they might. in the mean time, they received a letterfrom the lawyer to whom miss ophelia had referred them, saying that he knew nothingof the matter; that the man was sold at a public auction, and that, beyond receivingthe money, he knew nothing of the affair. neither george nor mrs. shelby could beeasy at this result; and, accordingly, some

six months after, the latter, havingbusiness for his mother, down the river, resolved to visit new orleans, in person, and push his inquiries, in hopes ofdiscovering tom's whereabouts, and restoring him. after some months of unsuccessful search,by the merest accident, george fell in with a man, in new orleans, who happened to bepossessed of the desired information; and with his money in his pocket, our hero took steamboat for red river, resolving to findout and re-purchase his old friend. he was soon introduced into the house,where he found legree in the sitting-room.

legree received the stranger with a kind ofsurly hospitality, "i understand," said the young man, "thatyou bought, in new orleans, a boy, named he used to be on my father's place, and icame to see if i couldn't buy him back." legree's brow grew dark, and he broke out,passionately: "yes, i did buy such a fellow,--and a h--l of a bargain i had ofit, too! the most rebellious, saucy, impudent dog! set up my niggers to run away; got off twogals, worth eight hundred or a thousand apiece. he owned to that, and, when i bid him tellme where they was, he up and said he knew,

but he wouldn't tell; and stood to it,though i gave him the cussedest flogging i ever gave nigger yet. i b'lieve he's trying to die; but i don'tknow as he'll make it out." "where is he?" said george, impetuously."let me see him." the cheeks of the young man were crimson,and his eyes flashed fire; but he prudently said nothing, as yet."he's in dat ar shed," said a little fellow, who stood holding george's horse. legree kicked the boy, and swore at him;but george, without saying another word, turned and strode to the spot.

tom had been lying two days since the fatalnight, not suffering, for every nerve of suffering was blunted and destroyed. he lay, for the most part, in a quietstupor; for the laws of a powerful and well-knit frame would not at once releasethe imprisoned spirit. by stealth, there had been there, in thedarkness of the night, poor desolated creatures, who stole from their scantyhours' rest, that they might repay to him some of those ministrations of love inwhich he had always been so abundant. truly, those poor disciples had little togive,--only the cup of cold water; but it was given with full hearts.

tears had fallen on that honest, insensibleface,--tears of late repentance in the poor, ignorant heathen, whom his dying loveand patience had awakened to repentance, and bitter prayers, breathed over him to a late-found saviour, of whom they scarceknew more than the name, but whom the yearning ignorant heart of man neverimplores in vain. cassy, who had glided out of her place ofconcealment, and, by overhearing, learned the sacrifice that had been made for herand emmeline, had been there, the night before, defying the danger of detection; and, moved by the last few words which theaffectionate soul had yet strength to

breathe, the long winter of despair, theice of years, had given way, and the dark, despairing woman had wept and prayed. when george entered the shed, he felt hishead giddy and his heart sick. "is it possible,--is it possible?" said he,kneeling down by him. "uncle tom, my poor, poor old friend!" something in the voice penetrated to theear of the dying. he moved his head gently, smiled, and said,"jesus can make a dying-bed feel soft as down pillows are." tears which did honor to his manly heartfell from the young man's eyes, as he bent

over his poor friend."o, dear uncle tom! do wake,--do speak once more! look up!here's mas'r george,--your own little mas'r george.don't you know me?" "mas'r george!" said tom, opening his eyes,and speaking in a feeble voice; "mas'r george!"he looked bewildered. slowly the idea seemed to fill his soul;and the vacant eye became fixed and brightened, the whole face lighted up, thehard hands clasped, and tears ran down the cheeks.

"bless the lord! it is,--it is,--it's all iwanted! they haven't forgot me.it warms my soul; it does my heart good! now i shall die content! bless the lord, on my soul!""you shan't die! you mustn't die, nor think of it!i've come to buy you, and take you home," said george, with impetuous vehemence. "o, mas'r george, ye're too late.the lord's bought me, and is going to take me home,--and i long to go.heaven is better than kintuck." "o, don't die!

it'll kill me!--it'll break my heart tothink what you've suffered,--and lying in this old shed, here!poor, poor fellow!" "don't call me poor fellow!" said tom,solemnly, "i have been poor fellow; but that's all past and gone, now.i'm right in the door, going into glory! o, mas'r george! heaven has come!i've got the victory!--the lord jesus has given it to me!glory be to his name!" george was awe-struck at the force, thevehemence, the power, with which these broken sentences were uttered.he sat gazing in silence.

tom grasped his hand, and continued,--"yemustn't, now, tell chloe, poor soul! how ye found me;--'t would be so drefful to her.only tell her ye found me going into glory; and that i couldn't stay for no one. and tell her the lord's stood by meeverywhere and al'ays, and made everything light and easy. and oh, the poor chil'en, and the baby;--myold heart's been most broke for 'em, time and agin!tell 'em all to follow me--follow me! give my love to mas'r, and dear goodmissis, and everybody in the place! ye don't know!'pears like i loves 'em all!

i loves every creature everywhar!--it'snothing but love! o, mas'r george! what a thing 't is to be achristian!" at this moment, legree sauntered up to thedoor of the shed, looked in, with a dogged air of affected carelessness, and turnedaway. "the old satan!" said george, in hisindignation. "it's a comfort to think the devil will payhim for this, some of these days!" "o, don't!--oh, ye mustn't!" said tom,grasping his hand; "he's a poor mis'able critter! it's awful to think on 't! oh, if he only could repent, the lord wouldforgive him now; but i'm 'feared he never

will!""i hope he won't!" said george; "i never want to see him in heaven!" "hush, mas'r george!--it worries me!don't feel so! he an't done me no real harm,--only openedthe gate of the kingdom for me; that's all!" at this moment, the sudden flush ofstrength which the joy of meeting his young master had infused into the dying man gaveway. a sudden sinking fell upon him; he closedhis eyes; and that mysterious and sublime change passed over his face, that told theapproach of other worlds.

he began to draw his breath with long, deepinspirations; and his broad chest rose and fell, heavily.the expression of his face was that of a conqueror. "who,--who,--who shall separate us from thelove of christ?" he said, in a voice that contended with mortal weakness; and, with asmile, he fell asleep. george sat fixed with solemn awe. it seemed to him that the place was holy;and, as he closed the lifeless eyes, and rose up from the dead, only one thoughtpossessed him,--that expressed by his simple old friend,--"what a thing it is tobe a christian!"

he turned: legree was standing, sullenly,behind him. something in that dying scene had checkedthe natural fierceness of youthful passion. the presence of the man was simplyloathsome to george; and he felt only an impulse to get away from him, with as fewwords as possible. fixing his keen dark eyes on legree, hesimply said, pointing to the dead, "you have got all you ever can of him.what shall i pay you for the body? i will take it away, and bury it decently." "i don't sell dead niggers," said legree,doggedly. "you are welcome to bury him where and whenyou like."

"boys," said george, in an authoritativetone, to two or three negroes, who were looking at the body, "help me lift him up,and carry him to my wagon; and get me a spade." one of them ran for a spade; the other twoassisted george to carry the body to the wagon. george neither spoke to nor looked atlegree, who did not countermand his orders, but stood, whistling, with an air of forcedunconcern. he sulkily followed them to where the wagonstood at the door. george spread his cloak in the wagon, andhad the body carefully disposed of in it,--

moving the seat, so as to give it room. then he turned, fixed his eyes on legree,and said, with forced composure, "i have not, as yet, said to you what ithink of this most atrocious affair;--this is not the time and place. but, sir, this innocent blood shall havejustice. i will proclaim this murder.i will go to the very first magistrate, and expose you." "do!" said legree, snapping his fingers,scornfully. "i'd like to see you doing it.where you going to get witnesses?--how you

going to prove it?--come, now!" george saw, at once, the force of thisdefiance. there was not a white person on the place;and, in all southern courts, the testimony of colored blood is nothing. he felt, at that moment, as if he couldhave rent the heavens with his heart's indignant cry for justice; but in vain."after all, what a fuss, for a dead nigger!" said legree. the word was as a spark to a powdermagazine. prudence was never a cardinal virtue of thekentucky boy.

george turned, and, with one indignantblow, knocked legree flat upon his face; and, as he stood over him, blazing withwrath and defiance, he would have formed no bad personification of his great namesaketriumphing over the dragon. some men, however, are decidedly betteredby being knocked down. if a man lays them fairly flat in the dust,they seem immediately to conceive a respect for him; and legree was one of this sort. as he rose, therefore, and brushed the dustfrom his clothes, he eyed the slowly- retreating wagon with some evidentconsideration; nor did he open his mouth till it was out of sight.

beyond the boundaries of the plantation,george had noticed a dry, sandy knoll, shaded by a few trees; there they made thegrave. "shall we take off the cloak, mas'r?" saidthe negroes, when the grave was ready. "no, no,--bury it with him!it's all i can give you, now, poor tom, and you shall have it." they laid him in; and the men shovelledaway, silently. they banked it up, and laid green turf overit. "you may go, boys," said george, slipping aquarter into the hand of each. they lingered about, however."if young mas'r would please buy us--" said

one. "we'd serve him so faithful!" said theother. "hard times here, mas'r!" said the first."do, mas'r, buy us, please!" "i can't!--i can't!" said george, withdifficulty, motioning them off; "it's impossible!"the poor fellows looked dejected, and walked off in silence. "witness, eternal god!" said george,kneeling on the grave of his poor friend; "oh, witness, that, from this hour, i willdo what one man can to drive out this curse of slavery from my land!"

there is no monument to mark the lastresting-place of our friend. he needs none! his lord knows where he lies, and willraise him up, immortal, to appear with him when he shall appear in his glory.pity him not! such a life and death is not for pity! not in the riches of omnipotence is thechief glory of god; but in self-denying, suffering love! and blessed are the men whom he calls tofellowship with him, bearing their cross after him with patience.of such it is written, "blessed are they

that mourn, for they shall be comforted." chapter xliian authentic ghost story for some remarkable reason, ghostly legendswere uncommonly rife, about this time, among the servants on legree's place. it was whisperingly asserted thatfootsteps, in the dead of night, had been heard descending the garret stairs, andpatrolling the house. in vain the doors of the upper entry hadbeen locked; the ghost either carried a duplicate key in its pocket, or availeditself of a ghost's immemorial privilege of coming through the keyhole, and promenaded

as before, with a freedom that wasalarming. authorities were somewhat divided, as tothe outward form of the spirit, owing to a custom quite prevalent among negroes,--and,for aught we know, among whites, too,--of invariably shutting the eyes, and covering up heads under blankets, petticoats, orwhatever else might come in use for a shelter, on these occasions. of course, as everybody knows, when thebodily eyes are thus out of the lists, the spiritual eyes are uncommonly vivacious andperspicuous; and, therefore, there were abundance of full-length portraits of the

ghost, abundantly sworn and testified to,which, as if often the case with portraits, agreed with each other in no particular,except the common family peculiarity of the ghost tribe,--the wearing of a white sheet. the poor souls were not versed in ancienthistory, and did not know that shakspeare had authenticated this costume, by tellinghow "the sheeted dead did squeak and gibber inthe streets of rome." (note: hamlet, act i, scene 1, lines 115-116) and, therefore, their all hitting upon thisis a striking fact in pneumatology, which we recommend to the attention of spiritualmedia generally.

be it as it may, we have private reasonsfor knowing that a tall figure in a white sheet did walk, at the most approvedghostly hours, around the legree premises -,-pass out the doors, glide about the house,--disappear at intervals, and,reappearing, pass up the silent stairway, into that fatal garret; and that, in themorning, the entry doors were all found shut and locked as firm as ever. legree could not help overhearing thiswhispering; and it was all the more exciting to him, from the pains that weretaken to conceal it from him. he drank more brandy than usual; held uphis head briskly, and swore louder than

ever in the daytime; but he had bad dreams,and the visions of his head on his bed were anything but agreeable. the night after tom's body had been carriedaway, he rode to the next town for a carouse, and had a high one.got home late and tired; locked his door, took out the key, and went to bed. after all, let a man take what pains he mayto hush it down, a human soul is an awful ghostly, unquiet possession, for a bad manto have. who knows the metes and bounds of it? who knows all its awful perhapses,--thoseshudderings and tremblings, which it can no

more live down than it can outlive its owneternity! what a fool is he who locks his door tokeep out spirits, who has in his own bosom a spirit he dares not meet alone,--whosevoice, smothered far down, and piled over with mountains of earthliness, is yet likethe forewarning trumpet of doom! but legree locked his door and set a chairagainst it; he set a night-lamp at the head of his bed; and put his pistols there. he examined the catches and fastenings ofthe windows, and then swore he "didn't care for the devil and all his angels," and wentto sleep. well, he slept, for he was tired,--sleptsoundly.

but, finally, there came over his sleep ashadow, a horror, an apprehension of something dreadful hanging over him. it was his mother's shroud, he thought; butcassy had it, holding it up, and showing it to him. he heard a confused noise of screams andgroanings; and, with it all, he knew he was asleep, and he struggled to wake himself.he was half awake. he was sure something was coming into hisroom. he knew the door was opening, but he couldnot stir hand or foot. at last he turned, with a start; the doorwas open, and he saw a hand putting out his

light.it was a cloudy, misty moonlight, and there he saw it!--something white, gliding in! he heard the still rustle of its ghostlygarments. it stood still by his bed;--a cold handtouched his; a voice said, three times, in a low, fearful whisper, "come! come! come!" and, while he lay sweating with terror, heknew not when or how, the thing was gone. he sprang out of bed, and pulled at thedoor. it was shut and locked, and the man felldown in a swoon. after this, legree became a harder drinkerthan ever before.

he no longer drank cautiously, prudently,but imprudently and recklessly. there were reports around the country, soonafter that he was sick and dying. excess had brought on that frightfuldisease that seems to throw the lurid shadows of a coming retribution back intothe present life. none could bear the horrors of that sickroom, when he raved and screamed, and spoke of sights which almost stopped the blood ofthose who heard him; and, at his dying bed, stood a stern, white, inexorable figure,saying, "come! come! come!" by a singular coincidence, on the verynight that this vision appeared to legree, the house-door was found open in themorning, and some of the negroes had seen

two white figures gliding down the avenuetowards the high-road. it was near sunrise when cassy and emmelinepaused, for a moment, in a little knot of trees near the town. cassy was dressed after the manner of thecreole spanish ladies,--wholly in black. a small black bonnet on her head, coveredby a veil thick with embroidery, concealed her face. it had been agreed that, in their escape,she was to personate the character of a creole lady, and emmeline that of herservant. brought up, from early life, in connectionwith the highest society, the language,

movements and air of cassy, were all inagreement with this idea; and she had still enough remaining with her, of a once splendid wardrobe, and sets of jewels, toenable her to personate the thing to advantage. she stopped in the outskirts of the town,where she had noticed trunks for sale, and purchased a handsome one.this she requested the man to send along with her. and, accordingly, thus escorted by a boywheeling her trunk, and emmeline behind her, carrying her carpet-bag and sundrybundles, she made her appearance at the

small tavern, like a lady of consideration. the first person that struck her, after herarrival, was george shelby, who was staying there, awaiting the next boat. cassy had remarked the young man from herloophole in the garret, and seen him bear away the body of tom, and observed withsecret exultation, his rencontre with subsequently she had gathered, from theconversations she had overheard among the negroes, as she glided about in her ghostlydisguise, after nightfall, who he was, and in what relation he stood to tom. she, therefore, felt an immediate accessionof confidence, when she found that he was,

like herself, awaiting the next boat. cassy's air and manner, address, andevident command of money, prevented any rising disposition to suspicion in thehotel. people never inquire too closely into thosewho are fair on the main point, of paying well,--a thing which cassy had foreseenwhen she provided herself with money. in the edge of the evening, a boat washeard coming along, and george shelby handed cassy aboard, with the politenesswhich comes naturally to every kentuckian, and exerted himself to provide her with agood state-room. cassy kept her room and bed, on pretext ofillness, during the whole time they were on

red river; and was waited on, withobsequious devotion, by her attendant. when they arrived at the mississippi river,george, having learned that the course of the strange lady was upward, like his own,proposed to take a state-room for her on the same boat with himself,--good-naturedly compassionating her feeble health, anddesirous to do what he could to assist her. behold, therefore, the whole party safelytransferred to the good steamer cincinnati, and sweeping up the river under a powerfulhead of steam. cassy's health was much better. she sat upon the guards, came to the table,and was remarked upon in the boat as a lady

that must have been very handsome. from the moment that george got the firstglimpse of her face, he was troubled with one of those fleeting and indefinitelikenesses, which almost every body can remember, and has been, at times, perplexedwith. he could not keep himself from looking ather, and watching her perpetually. at table, or sitting at her state-roomdoor, still she would encounter the young man's eyes fixed on her, and politelywithdrawn, when she showed, by her countenance, that she was sensible to theobservation. cassy became uneasy.

she began to think that he suspectedsomething; and finally resolved to throw herself entirely on his generosity, andintrusted him with her whole history. george was heartily disposed to sympathizewith any one who had escaped from legree's plantation,--a place that he could notremember or speak of with patience,--and, with the courageous disregard of consequences which is characteristic of hisage and state, he assured her that he would do all in his power to protect and bringthem through. the next state-room to cassy's was occupiedby a french lady, named de thoux, who was accompanied by a fine little daughter, achild of some twelve summers.

this lady, having gathered, from george'sconversation, that he was from kentucky, seemed evidently disposed to cultivate hisacquaintance; in which design she was seconded by the graces of her little girl, who was about as pretty a plaything as everdiverted the weariness of a fortnight's trip on a steamboat. george's chair was often placed at herstate-room door; and cassy, as she sat upon the guards, could hear their conversation. madame de thoux was very minute in herinquiries as to kentucky, where she said she had resided in a former period of herlife.

george discovered, to his surprise, thather former residence must have been in his own vicinity; and her inquiries showed aknowledge of people and things in his vicinity, that was perfectly surprising tohim. "do you know," said madame de thoux to him,one day, "of any man, in your neighborhood, of the name of harris?" "there is an old fellow, of that name,lives not far from my father's place," said george."we never have had much intercourse with him, though." "he is a large slave-owner, i believe,"said madame de thoux, with a manner which

seemed to betray more interest than she wasexactly willing to show. "he is," said george, looking rathersurprised at her manner. "did you ever know of his having--perhaps,you may have heard of his having a mulatto boy, named george?" "o, certainly,--george harris,--i know himwell; he married a servant of my mother's, but has escaped, now, to canada.""he has?" said madame de thoux, quickly. "thank god!" george looked a surprised inquiry, but saidnothing. madame de thoux leaned her head on herhand, and burst into tears.

"he is my brother," she said. "madame!" said george, with a strong accentof surprise. "yes," said madame de thoux, lifting herhead, proudly, and wiping her tears, "mr. shelby, george harris is my brother!" "i am perfectly astonished," said george,pushing back his chair a pace or two, and looking at madame de thoux."i was sold to the south when he was a boy," said she. "i was bought by a good and generous man.he took me with him to the west indies, set me free, and married me.

it is but lately that he died; and i wasgoing up to kentucky, to see if i could find and redeem my brother.""i heard him speak of a sister emily, that was sold south," said george. "yes, indeed!i am the one," said madame de thoux;--"tell me what sort of a--" "a very fine young man," said george,"notwithstanding the curse of slavery that lay on him.he sustained a first rate character, both for intelligence and principle. i know, you see," he said; "because hemarried in our family."

"what sort of a girl?" said madame dethoux, eagerly. "a treasure," said george; "a beautiful,intelligent, amiable girl. very pious.my mother had brought her up, and trained her as carefully, almost, as a daughter. she could read and write, embroider andsew, beautifully; and was a beautiful singer.""was she born in your house?" said madame de thoux. "no.father bought her once, in one of his trips to new orleans, and brought her up as apresent to mother.

she was about eight or nine years old,then. father would never tell mother what he gavefor her; but, the other day, in looking over his old papers, we came across thebill of sale. he paid an extravagant sum for her, to besure. i suppose, on account of her extraordinarybeauty." george sat with his back to cassy, and didnot see the absorbed expression of her countenance, as he was giving thesedetails. at this point in the story, she touched hisarm, and, with a face perfectly white with interest, said, "do you know the names ofthe people he bought her of?"

"a man of the name of simmons, i think, wasthe principal in the transaction. at least, i think that was the name on thebill of sale." "o, my god!" said cassy, and fellinsensible on the floor of the cabin. george was wide awake now, and so wasmadame de thoux. though neither of them could conjecturewhat was the cause of cassy's fainting, still they made all the tumult which isproper in such cases;--george upsetting a wash-pitcher, and breaking two tumblers, in the warmth of his humanity; and variousladies in the cabin, hearing that somebody had fainted, crowded the state-room door,and kept out all the air they possibly

could, so that, on the whole, everythingwas done that could be expected. poor cassy! when she recovered, turned herface to the wall, and wept and sobbed like a child,--perhaps, mother, you can tellwhat she was thinking of! perhaps you cannot,--but she felt as sure,in that hour, that god had had mercy on her, and that she should see her daughter,--as she did, months afterwards,--when--but we anticipate. chapter xliiiresults the rest of our story is soon told. george shelby, interested, as any otheryoung man might be, by the romance of the

incident, no less than by feelings ofhumanity, was at the pains to send to cassy the bill of sale of eliza; whose date and name all corresponded with her ownknowledge of facts, and felt no doubt upon her mind as to the identity of her child.it remained now only for her to trace out the path of the fugitives. madame de thoux and she, thus drawntogether by the singular coincidence of their fortunes, proceeded immediately tocanada, and began a tour of inquiry among the stations, where the numerous fugitivesfrom slavery are located. at amherstberg they found the missionarywith whom george and eliza had taken

shelter, on their first arrival in canada;and through him were enabled to trace the family to montreal. george and eliza had now been five yearsfree. george had found constant occupation in theshop of a worthy machinist, where he had been earning a competent support for hisfamily, which, in the mean time, had been increased by the addition of anotherdaughter. little harry--a fine bright boy--had beenput to a good school, and was making rapid proficiency in knowledge. the worthy pastor of the station, inamherstberg, where george had first landed,

was so much interested in the statements ofmadame de thoux and cassy, that he yielded to the solicitations of the former, to accompany them to montreal, in theirsearch,--she bearing all the expense of the expedition. the scene now changes to a small, neattenement, in the outskirts of montreal; the time, evening. a cheerful fire blazes on the hearth; atea-table, covered with a snowy cloth, stands prepared for the evening meal. in one corner of the room was a tablecovered with a green cloth, where was an

open writing-desk, pens, paper, and over ita shelf of well-selected books. this was george's study. the same zeal for self-improvement, whichled him to steal the much coveted arts of reading and writing, amid all the toil anddiscouragements of his early life, still led him to devote all his leisure time toself-cultivation. at this present time, he is seated at thetable, making notes from a volume of the family library he has been reading. "come, george," says eliza, "you've beengone all day. do put down that book, and let's talk,while i'm getting tea,--do."

and little eliza seconds the effort, bytoddling up to her father, and trying to pull the book out of his hand, and installherself on his knee as a substitute. "o, you little witch!" says george,yielding, as, in such circumstances, man always must."that's right," says eliza, as she begins to cut a loaf of bread. a little older she looks; her form a littlefuller; her air more matronly than of yore; but evidently contented and happy as womanneed be. "harry, my boy, how did you come on in thatsum, today?" says george, as he laid his land on his son's head.

harry has lost his long curls; but he cannever lose those eyes and eyelashes, and that fine, bold brow, that flushes withtriumph, as he answers, "i did it, every bit of it, myself, father; and nobodyhelped me!" "that's right," says his father; "depend onyourself, my son. you have a better chance than ever yourpoor father had." at this moment, there is a rap at the door;and eliza goes and opens it. the delighted--"why! this you?"--calls upher husband; and the good pastor of amherstberg is welcomed.there are two more women with him, and eliza asks them to sit down.

now, if the truth must be told, the honestpastor had arranged a little programme, according to which this affair was todevelop itself; and, on the way up, all had very cautiously and prudently exhorted each other not to let things out, exceptaccording to previous arrangement. what was the good man's consternation,therefore, just as he had motioned to the ladies to be seated, and was taking out hispocket-handkerchief to wipe his mouth, so as to proceed to his introductory speech in good order, when madame de thoux upset thewhole plan, by throwing her arms around george's neck, and letting all out at once,by saying, "o, george! don't you know me?

i'm your sister emily." cassy had seated herself more composedly,and would have carried on her part very well, had not little eliza suddenlyappeared before her in exact shape and form, every outline and curl, just as herdaughter was when she saw her last. the little thing peered up in her face; andcassy caught her up in her arms, pressed her to her bosom, saying, what, at themoment she really believed, "darling, i'm your mother!" in fact, it was a troublesome matter to doup exactly in proper order; but the good pastor, at last, succeeded in gettingeverybody quiet, and delivering the speech

with which he had intended to open the exercises; and in which, at last, hesucceeded so well, that his whole audience were sobbing about him in a manner thatought to satisfy any orator, ancient or modern. they knelt together, and the good manprayed,--for there are some feelings so agitated and tumultuous, that they can findrest only by being poured into the bosom of almighty love,--and then, rising up, the new-found family embraced each other, witha holy trust in him, who from such peril and dangers, and by such unknown ways, hadbrought them together.

the note-book of a missionary, among thecanadian fugitives, contains truth stranger than fiction. how can it be otherwise, when a systemprevails which whirls families and scatters their members, as the wind whirls andscatters the leaves of autumn? these shores of refuge, like the eternalshore, often unite again, in glad communion, hearts that for long years havemourned each other as lost. and affecting beyond expression is theearnestness with which every new arrival among them is met, if, perchance, it maybring tidings of mother, sister, child or wife, still lost to view in the shadows ofslavery.

deeds of heroism are wrought here more thanthose of romance, when defying torture, and braving death itself, the fugitivevoluntarily threads his way back to the terrors and perils of that dark land, that he may bring out his sister, or mother, orwife. one young man, of whom a missionary hastold us, twice re-captured, and suffering shameful stripes for his heroism, hadescaped again; and, in a letter which we heard read, tells his friends that he is going back a third time, that he may, atlast, bring away his sister. my good sir, is this man a hero, or acriminal?

would not you do as much for your sister? and can you blame him?but, to return to our friends, whom we left wiping their eyes, and recoveringthemselves from too great and sudden a joy. they are now seated around the socialboard, and are getting decidedly companionable; only that cassy, who keepslittle eliza on her lap, occasionally squeezes the little thing, in a manner that rather astonishes her, and obstinatelyrefuses to have her mouth stuffed with cake to the extent the little one desires,--alleging, what the child rather wonders at, that she has got something better thancake, and doesn't want it.

and, indeed, in two or three days, such achange has passed over cassy, that our readers would scarcely know her. the despairing, haggard expression of herface had given way to one of gentle trust. she seemed to sink, at once, into the bosomof the family, and take the little ones into her heart, as something for which itlong had waited. indeed, her love seemed to flow morenaturally to the little eliza than to her own daughter; for she was the exact imageand body of the child whom she had lost. the little one was a flowery bond betweenmother and daughter, through whom grew up acquaintanceship and affection.

eliza's steady, consistent piety, regulatedby the constant reading of the sacred word, made her a proper guide for the shatteredand wearied mind of her mother. cassy yielded at once, and with her wholesoul, to every good influence, and became a devout and tender christian. after a day or two, madame de thoux toldher brother more particularly of her affairs. the death of her husband had left her anample fortune, which she generously offered to share with the family. when she asked george what way she couldbest apply it for him, he answered, "give

me an education, emily; that has alwaysbeen my heart's desire. then, i can do all the rest." on mature deliberation, it was decided thatthe whole family should go, for some years, to france; whither they sailed, carryingemmeline with them. the good looks of the latter won theaffection of the first mate of the vessel; and, shortly after entering the port, shebecame his wife. george remained four years at a frenchuniversity, and, applying himself with an unintermitted zeal, obtained a verythorough education. political troubles in france, at last, ledthe family again to seek an asylum in this

country. george's feelings and views, as an educatedman, may be best expressed in a letter to one of his friends."i feel somewhat at a loss, as to my future course. true, as you have said to me, i mightmingle in the circles of the whites, in this country, my shade of color is soslight, and that of my wife and family scarce perceptible. well, perhaps, on sufferance, i might.but, to tell you the truth, i have no wish to."my sympathies are not for my father's

race, but for my mother's. to him i was no more than a fine dog orhorse: to my poor heart-broken mother i was a child; and, though i never saw her, afterthe cruel sale that separated us, till she died, yet i know she always loved medearly. i know it by my own heart. when i think of all she suffered, of my ownearly sufferings, of the distresses and struggles of my heroic wife, of my sister,sold in the new orleans slave-market,-- though i hope to have no unchristian sentiments, yet i may be excused forsaying, i have no wish to pass for an

american, or to identify myself with them. "it is with the oppressed, enslaved africanrace that i cast in my lot; and, if i wished anything, i would wish myself twoshades darker, rather than one lighter. "the desire and yearning of my soul is foran african nationality. i want a people that shall have a tangible,separate existence of its own; and where am i to look for it? not in hayti; for in hayti they had nothingto start with. a stream cannot rise above its fountain. the race that formed the character of thehaytiens was a worn-out, effeminate one;

and, of course, the subject race will becenturies in rising to anything. "where, then, shall i look? on the shores of africa i see a republic,--a republic formed of picked men, who, by energy and self-educating force, have, inmany cases, individually, raised themselves above a condition of slavery. having gone through a preparatory stage offeebleness, this republic has, at last, become an acknowledged nation on the faceof the earth,--acknowledged by both france and england. there it is my wish to go, and find myselfa people.

"i am aware, now, that i shall have you allagainst me; but, before you strike, hear me. during my stay in france, i have followedup, with intense interest, the history of my people in america. i have noted the struggle betweenabolitionist and colonizationist, and have received some impressions, as a distantspectator, which could never have occurred to me as a participator. "i grant that this liberia may havesubserved all sorts of purposes, by being played off, in the hands of our oppressors,against us.

doubtless the scheme may have been used, inunjustifiable ways, as a means of retarding our emancipation.but the question to me is, is there not a god above all man's schemes? may he not have over-ruled their designs,and founded for us a nation by them? "in these days, a nation is born in a day. a nation starts, now, with all the greatproblems of republican life and civilization wrought out to its hand;--ithas not to discover, but only to apply. let us, then, all take hold together, withall our might, and see what we can do with this new enterprise, and the whole splendidcontinent of africa opens before us and our

children. our nation shall roll the tide ofcivilization and christianity along its shores, and plant there mighty republics,that, growing with the rapidity of tropical vegetation, shall be for all coming ages. "do you say that i am deserting my enslavedbrethren? i think not.if i forget them one hour, one moment of my life, so may god forget me! but, what can i do for them, here?can i break their chains? no, not as an individual; but, let me goand form part of a nation, which shall have

a voice in the councils of nations, andthen we can speak. a nation has a right to argue, remonstrate,implore, and present the cause of its race,--which an individual has not. "if europe ever becomes a grand council offree nations,--as i trust in god it will,-- if, there, serfdom, and all unjust andoppressive social inequalities, are done away; and if they, as france and england have done, acknowledge our position,--then,in the great congress of nations, we will make our appeal, and present the cause ofour enslaved and suffering race; and it cannot be that free, enlightened america

will not then desire to wipe from herescutcheon that bar sinister which disgraces her among nations, and is astruly a curse to her as to the enslaved. "but, you will tell me, our race have equalrights to mingle in the american republic as the irishman, the german, the swede.granted, they have. we ought to be free to meet and mingle,--torise by our individual worth, without any consideration of caste or color; and theywho deny us this right are false to their own professed principles of human equality. we ought, in particular, to be allowedhere. we have more than the rights of commonmen;--we have the claim of an injured race

for reparation. but, then, i do not want it; i want acountry, a nation, of my own. i think that the african race haspeculiarities, yet to be unfolded in the light of civilization and christianity,which, if not the same with those of the anglo-saxon, may prove to be, morally, ofeven a higher type. "to the anglo-saxon race has been intrustedthe destinies of the world, during its pioneer period of struggle and conflict. to that mission its stern, inflexible,energetic elements, were well adapted; but, as a christian, i look for another era toarise.

on its borders i trust we stand; and thethroes that now convulse the nations are, to my hope, but the birth-pangs of an hourof universal peace and brotherhood. "i trust that the development of africa isto be essentially a christian one. if not a dominant and commanding race, theyare, at least, an affectionate, magnanimous, and forgiving one. having been called in the furnace ofinjustice and oppression, they have need to bind closer to their hearts that sublimedoctrine of love and forgiveness, through which alone they are to conquer, which it is to be their mission to spread over thecontinent of africa.

"in myself, i confess, i am feeble forthis,--full half the blood in my veins is the hot and hasty saxon; but i have aneloquent preacher of the gospel ever by my side, in the person of my beautiful wife. when i wander, her gentler spirit everrestores me, and keeps before my eyes the christian calling and mission of our race. as a christian patriot, as a teacher ofchristianity, i go to my country,--my chosen, my glorious africa!--and to her, inmy heart, i sometimes apply those splendid words of prophecy: 'whereas thou hast been forsaken and hated, so that no man wentthrough thee; i will make thee an eternal

excellence, a joy of many generations!' "you will call me an enthusiast: you willtell me that i have not well considered what i am undertaking.but i have considered, and counted the cost. i go to liberia, not as an elysium ofromance, but as to a field of work. i expect to work with both hands,--to workhard; to work against all sorts of difficulties and discouragements; and towork till i die. this is what i go for; and in this i amquite sure i shall not be disappointed. "whatever you may think of mydetermination, do not divorce me from your

confidence; and think that, in whatever ido, i act with a heart wholly given to my people. "george harris."george, with his wife, children, sister and mother, embarked for africa, some few weeksafter. if we are not mistaken, the world will yethear from him there. of our other characters we have nothingvery particular to write, except a word relating to miss ophelia and topsy, and afarewell chapter, which we shall dedicate to george shelby. miss ophelia took topsy home to vermontwith her, much to the surprise of the grave

deliberative body whom a new englanderrecognizes under the term "our folks." "our folks," at first, thought it an oddand unnecessary addition to their well- trained domestic establishment; but, sothoroughly efficient was miss ophelia in her conscientious endeavor to do her duty by her eleve, that the child rapidly grewin grace and in favor with the family and neighborhood. at the age of womanhood, she was, by herown request, baptized, and became a member of the christian church in the place; andshowed so much intelligence, activity and zeal, and desire to do good in the world,

that she was at last recommended, andapproved as a missionary to one of the stations in africa; and we have heard thatthe same activity and ingenuity which, when a child, made her so multiform and restless in her developments, is now employed, in asafer and wholesomer manner, in teaching the children of her own country. p.s.--it will be a satisfaction to somemother, also, to state, that some inquiries, which were set on foot by madamede thoux, have resulted recently in the discovery of cassy's son. being a young man of energy, he hadescaped, some years before his mother, and

been received and educated by friends ofthe oppressed in the north. he will soon follow his family to africa. chapter xlivthe liberator george shelby had written to his mothermerely a line, stating the day that she might expect him home.of the death scene of his old friend he had not the heart to write. he had tried several times, and onlysucceeded in half choking himself; and invariably finished by tearing up thepaper, wiping his eyes, and rushing somewhere to get quiet.

there was a pleased bustle all though theshelby mansion, that day, in expectation of the arrival of young mas'r george. mrs. shelby was seated in her comfortableparlor, where a cheerful hickory fire was dispelling the chill of the late autumnevening. a supper-table, glittering with plate andcut glass, was set out, on whose arrangements our former friend, old chloe,was presiding. arrayed in a new calico dress, with clean,white apron, and high, well-starched turban, her black polished face glowingwith satisfaction, she lingered, with needless punctiliousness, around the

arrangements of the table, merely as anexcuse for talking a little to her mistress."laws, now! won't it look natural to him?" she said. "thar,--i set his plate just whar he likesit round by the fire. mas'r george allers wants de warm seat. o, go way!--why didn't sally get out debest tea-pot,--de little new one, mas'r george got for missis, christmas?i'll have it out! and missis has heard from mas'r george?"she said, inquiringly. "yes, chloe; but only a line, just to sayhe would be home tonight, if he could,--

that's all." "didn't say nothin' 'bout my old man,s'pose?" said chloe, still fidgeting with the tea-cups."no, he didn't. he did not speak of anything, chloe. he said he would tell all, when he gothome." "jes like mas'r george,--he's allers soferce for tellin' everything hisself. i allers minded dat ar in mas'r george. don't see, for my part, how white peoplegen'lly can bar to hev to write things much as they do, writin' 's such slow, oneasykind o' work."

mrs. shelby smiled. "i'm a thinkin' my old man won't know deboys and de baby. lor'! she's de biggest gal, now,--good sheis, too, and peart, polly is. she's out to the house, now, watchin' dehoe-cake. i 's got jist de very pattern my old manliked so much, a bakin'. jist sich as i gin him the mornin' he wastook off. lord bless us! how i felt, dat ar morning!"mrs. shelby sighed, and felt a heavy weight on her heart, at this allusion. she had felt uneasy, ever since shereceived her son's letter, lest something

should prove to be hidden behind the veilof silence which he had drawn. "missis has got dem bills?" said chloe,anxiously. "yes, chloe.""'cause i wants to show my old man dem very bills de perfectioner gave me. 'and,' say he, 'chloe, i wish you'd staylonger.' 'thank you, mas'r,' says i, 'i would, onlymy old man's coming home, and missis,--she can't do without me no longer.' there's jist what i telled him.berry nice man, dat mas'r jones was." chloe had pertinaciously insisted that thevery bills in which her wages had been paid

should be preserved, to show her husband,in memorial of her capability. and mrs. shelby had readily consented tohumor her in the request. "he won't know polly,--my old man won't.laws, it's five year since they tuck him! she was a baby den,--couldn't but jiststand. remember how tickled he used to be, causeshe would keep a fallin' over, when she sot out to walk. laws a me!"the rattling of wheels now was heard. "mas'r george!" said aunt chloe, startingto the window. mrs. shelby ran to the entry door, and wasfolded in the arms of her son.

aunt chloe stood anxiously straining hereyes out into the darkness. "o, poor aunt chloe!" said george, stoppingcompassionately, and taking her hard, black hand between both his; "i'd have given allmy fortune to have brought him with me, but he's gone to a better country." there was a passionate exclamation frommrs. shelby, but aunt chloe said nothing. the party entered the supper-room.the money, of which chloe was so proud, was still lying on the table. "thar," said she, gathering it up, andholding it, with a trembling hand, to her mistress, "don't never want to see nor hearon 't again.

jist as i knew 't would be,--sold, andmurdered on dem ar' old plantations!" chloe turned, and was walking proudly outof the room. mrs. shelby followed her softly, and tookone of her hands, drew her down into a chair, and sat down by her."my poor, good chloe!" said she. chloe leaned her head on her mistress'shoulder, and sobbed out, "o missis! 'scuse me, my heart's broke,--dat's all!" "i know it is," said mrs. shelby, as hertears fell fast; "and i cannot heal it, but jesus can.he healeth the broken hearted, and bindeth up their wounds."

there was a silence for some time, and allwept together. at last, george, sitting down beside themourner, took her hand, and, with simple pathos, repeated the triumphant scene ofher husband's death, and his last messages of love. about a month after this, one morning, allthe servants of the shelby estate were convened together in the great hall thatran through the house, to hear a few words from their young master. to the surprise of all, he appeared amongthem with a bundle of papers in his hand, containing a certificate of freedom toevery one on the place, which he read

successively, and presented, amid the sobsand tears and shouts of all present. many, however, pressed around him,earnestly begging him not to send them away; and, with anxious faces, tenderingback their free papers. "we don't want to be no freer than we are. we's allers had all we wanted.we don't want to leave de ole place, and mas'r and missis, and de rest!" "my good friends," said george, as soon ashe could get a silence, "there'll be no need for you to leave me.the place wants as many hands to work it as it did before.

we need the same about the house that wedid before. but, you are now free men and free women.i shall pay you wages for your work, such as we shall agree on. the advantage is, that in case of mygetting in debt, or dying,--things that might happen,--you cannot now be taken upand sold. i expect to carry on the estate, and toteach you what, perhaps, it will take you some time to learn,--how to use the rightsi give you as free men and women. i expect you to be good, and willing tolearn; and i trust in god that i shall be faithful, and willing to teach.and now, my friends, look up, and thank god

for the blessing of freedom." an aged, partriarchal negro, who had growngray and blind on the estate, now rose, and, lifting his trembling hand said, "letus give thanks unto the lord!" as all kneeled by one consent, a moretouching and hearty te deum never ascended to heaven, though borne on the peal oforgan, bell and cannon, than came from that honest old heart. on rising, another struck up a methodisthymn, of which the burden was, "the year of jubilee is come,--return, ye ransomed sinners, home." "one thing more," said george, as hestopped the congratulations of the throng;

"you all remember our good old uncle tom?" george here gave a short narration of thescene of his death, and of his loving farewell to all on the place, and added, "it was on his grave, my friends, that iresolved, before god, that i would never own another slave, while it was possible tofree him; that nobody, through me, should ever run the risk of being parted from home and friends, and dying on a lonelyplantation, as he died. so, when you rejoice in your freedom, thinkthat you owe it to that good old soul, and pay it back in kindness to his wife andchildren.

think of your freedom, every time you seeuncle tom's cabin; and let it be a memorial to put you all in mind to follow in hissteps, and be honest and faithful and christian as he was." chapter xlvconcluding remarks the writer has often been inquired of, bycorrespondents from different parts of the country, whether this narrative is a trueone; and to these inquiries she will give one general answer. the separate incidents that compose thenarrative are, to a very great extent, authentic, occurring, many of them, eitherunder her own observation, or that of her

personal friends. she or her friends have observed charactersthe counterpart of almost all that are here introduced; and many of the sayings areword for word as heard herself, or reported to her. the personal appearance of eliza, thecharacter ascribed to her, are sketches drawn from life. the incorruptible fidelity, piety andhonesty, of uncle tom, had more than one development, to her personal knowledge. some of the most deeply tragic andromantic, some of the most terrible

incidents, have also their parallels inreality. the incident of the mother's crossing theohio river on the ice is a well-known fact. the story of "old prue," in the secondvolume, was an incident that fell under the personal observation of a brother of thewriter, then collecting-clerk to a large mercantile house, in new orleans. from the same source was derived thecharacter of the planter legree. of him her brother thus wrote, speaking ofvisiting his plantation, on a collecting tour; "he actually made me feel of hisfist, which was like a blacksmith's hammer, or a nodule of iron, telling me that it was'calloused with knocking down niggers.'

when i left the plantation, i drew a longbreath, and felt as if i had escaped from an ogre's den." that the tragical fate of tom, also, hastoo many times had its parallel, there are living witnesses, all over our land, totestify. let it be remembered that in all southernstates it is a principle of jurisprudence that no person of colored lineage cantestify in a suit against a white, and it will be easy to see that such a case may occur, wherever there is a man whosepassions outweigh his interests, and a slave who has manhood or principle enoughto resist his will.

there is, actually, nothing to protect theslave's life, but the character of the master. facts too shocking to be contemplatedoccasionally force their way to the public ear, and the comment that one often hearsmade on them is more shocking than the thing itself. it is said, "very likely such cases may nowand then occur, but they are no sample of general practice." if the laws of new england were so arrangedthat a master could now and then torture an apprentice to death, would it be receivedwith equal composure?

would it be said, "these cases are rare,and no samples of general practice"? this injustice is an inherent one in theslave system,--it cannot exist without it. the public and shameless sale of beautifulmulatto and quadroon girls has acquired a notoriety, from the incidents following thecapture of the pearl. we extract the following from the speech ofhon. horace mann, one of the legal counsel for the defendants in that case. he says: "in that company of seventy-sixpersons, who attempted, in 1848, to escape from the district of columbia in theschooner pearl, and whose officers i assisted in defending, there were several

young and healthy girls, who had thosepeculiar attractions of form and feature which connoisseurs prize so highly.elizabeth russel was one of them. she immediately fell into the slave-trader's fangs, and was doomed for the new orleans market.the hearts of those that saw her were touched with pity for her fate. they offered eighteen hundred dollars toredeem her; and some there were who offered to give, that would not have much leftafter the gift; but the fiend of a slave- trader was inexorable. she was despatched to new orleans; but,when about half way there, god had mercy on

her, and smote her with death.there were two girls named edmundson in the same company. when about to be sent to the same market,an older sister went to the shambles, to plead with the wretch who owned them, forthe love of god, to spare his victims. he bantered her, telling what fine dressesand fine furniture they would have. 'yes,' she said, 'that may do very well inthis life, but what will become of them in the next?' they too were sent to new orleans; but wereafterwards redeemed, at an enormous ransom, and brought back."

is it not plain, from this, that thehistories of emmeline and cassy may have many counterparts? justice, too, obliges the author to statethat the fairness of mind and generosity attributed to st. clare are not without aparallel, as the following anecdote will show. a few years since, a young southerngentleman was in cincinnati, with a favorite servant, who had been his personalattendant from a boy. the young man took advantage of thisopportunity to secure his own freedom, and fled to the protection of a quaker, who wasquite noted in affairs of this kind.

the owner was exceedingly indignant. he had always treated the slave with suchindulgence, and his confidence in his affection was such, that he believed hemust have been practised upon to induce him to revolt from him. he visited the quaker, in high anger; but,being possessed of uncommon candor and fairness, was soon quieted by his argumentsand representations. it was a side of the subject which he neverhad heard,--never had thought on; and he immediately told the quaker that, if hisslave would, to his own face, say that it was his desire to be free, he wouldliberate him.

an interview was forthwith procured, andnathan was asked by his young master whether he had ever had any reason tocomplain of his treatment, in any respect. "no, mas'r," said nathan; "you've alwaysbeen good to me." "well, then, why do you want to leave me?""mas'r may die, and then who get me?--i'd rather be a free man." after some deliberation, the young masterreplied, "nathan, in your place, i think i should feel very much so, myself.you are free." he immediately made him out free papers;deposited a sum of money in the hands of the quaker, to be judiciously used inassisting him to start in life, and left a

very sensible and kind letter of advice tothe young man. that letter was for some time in thewriter's hands. the author hopes she has done justice tothat nobility, generosity, and humanity, which in many cases characterizeindividuals at the south. such instances save us from utter despairof our kind. but, she asks any person, who knows theworld, are such characters common, anywhere? for many years of her life, the authoravoided all reading upon or allusion to the subject of slavery, considering it as toopainful to be inquired into, and one which

advancing light and civilization wouldcertainly live down. but, since the legislative act of 1850,when she heard, with perfect surprise and consternation, christian and humane peopleactually recommending the remanding escaped fugitives into slavery, as a duty binding on good citizens,--when she heard, on allhands, from kind, compassionate and estimable people, in the free states of thenorth, deliberations and discussions as to what christian duty could be on this head -,-she could only think, these men andchristians cannot know what slavery is; if they did, such a question could never beopen for discussion.

and from this arose a desire to exhibit itin a living dramatic reality. she has endeavored to show it fairly, inits best and its worst phases. in its best aspect, she has, perhaps, beensuccessful; but, oh! who shall say what yet remains untold in that valley and shadow ofdeath, that lies the other side? to you, generous, noble-minded men andwomen, of the south,--you, whose virtue, and magnanimity and purity of character,are the greater for the severer trial it has encountered,--to you is her appeal. have you not, in your own secret souls, inyour own private conversings, felt that there are woes and evils, in this accursedsystem, far beyond what are here shadowed,

or can be shadowed? can it be otherwise?is man ever a creature to be trusted with wholly irresponsible power? and does not the slave system, by denyingthe slave all legal right of testimony, make every individual owner anirresponsible despot? can anybody fall to make the inference whatthe practical result will be? if there is, as we admit, a publicsentiment among you, men of honor, justice and humanity, is there not also anotherkind of public sentiment among the ruffian, the brutal and debased?

and cannot the ruffian, the brutal, thedebased, by slave law, own just as many slaves as the best and purest? are the honorable, the just, the high-minded and compassionate, the majority anywhere in this world?the slave-trade is now, by american law, considered as piracy. but a slave-trade, as systematic as everwas carried on on the coast of africa, is an inevitable attendant and result ofamerican slavery. and its heart-break and its horrors, canthey be told? the writer has given only a faint shadow,a dim picture, of the anguish and despair

that are, at this very moment, rivingthousands of hearts, shattering thousands of families, and driving a helpless andsensitive race to frenzy and despair. there are those living who know the motherswhom this accursed traffic has driven to the murder of their children; andthemselves seeking in death a shelter from woes more dreaded than death. nothing of tragedy can be written, can bespoken, can be conceived, that equals the frightful reality of scenes daily andhourly acting on our shores, beneath the shadow of american law, and the shadow ofthe cross of christ. and now, men and women of america, is thisa thing to be trifled with, apologized for,

and passed over in silence? farmers of massachusetts, of new hampshire,of vermont, of connecticut, who read this book by the blaze of your winter-eveningfire,--strong-hearted, generous sailors and ship-owners of maine,--is this a thing foryou to countenance and encourage? brave and generous men of new york, farmersof rich and joyous ohio, and ye of the wide prairie states,--answer, is this a thingfor you to protect and countenance? and you, mothers of america,--you who havelearned, by the cradles of your own children, to love and feel for allmankind,--by the sacred love you bear your child; by your joy in his beautiful,

spotless infancy; by the motherly pity andtenderness with which you guide his growing years; by the anxieties of his education;by the prayers you breathe for his soul's eternal good;--i beseech you, pity the mother who has all your affections, and notone legal right to protect, guide, or educate, the child of her bosom! by the sick hour of your child; by thosedying eyes, which you can never forget; by those last cries, that wrung your heartwhen you could neither help nor save; by the desolation of that empty cradle, that silent nursery,--i beseech you, pity thosemothers that are constantly made childless

by the american slave-trade! and say, mothers of america, is this athing to be defended, sympathized with, passed over in silence? do you say that the people of the freestate have nothing to do with it, and can do nothing?would to god this were true! but it is not true. the people of the free states havedefended, encouraged, and participated; and are more guilty for it, before god, thanthe south, in that they have not the apology of education or custom.

if the mothers of the free states had allfelt as they should, in times past, the sons of the free states would not have beenthe holders, and, proverbially, the hardest masters of slaves; the sons of the free states would not have connived at theextension of slavery, in our national body; the sons of the free states would not, asthey do, trade the souls and bodies of men as an equivalent to money, in theirmercantile dealings. there are multitudes of slaves temporarilyowned, and sold again, by merchants in northern cities; and shall the whole guiltor obloquy of slavery fall only on the south?

northern men, northern mothers, northernchristians, have something more to do than denounce their brethren at the south; theyhave to look to the evil among themselves. but, what can any individual do? of that, every individual can judge.there is one thing that every individual can do,--they can see to it that they feelright. an atmosphere of sympathetic influenceencircles every human being; and the man or woman who feels strongly, healthily andjustly, on the great interests of humanity, is a constant benefactor to the human race. see, then, to your sympathies in thismatter!

are they in harmony with the sympathies ofchrist? or are they swayed and perverted by the sophistries of worldly policy? christian men and women of the north! stillfurther,--you have another power; you can pray!do you believe in prayer? or has it become an indistinct apostolic tradition? you pray for the heathen abroad; pray alsofor the heathen at home. and pray for those distressed christianswhose whole chance of religious improvement is an accident of trade and sale; from whomany adherence to the morals of christianity is, in many cases, an impossibility, unless

they have given them, from above, thecourage and grace of martyrdom. but, still more. on the shores of our free states areemerging the poor, shattered, broken remnants of families,--men and women,escaped, by miraculous providences from the surges of slavery,--feeble in knowledge, and, in many cases, infirm in moralconstitution, from a system which confounds and confuses every principle ofchristianity and morality. they come to seek a refuge among you; theycome to seek education, knowledge, christianity.what do you owe to these poor unfortunates,

oh christians? does not every american christian owe tothe african race some effort at reparation for the wrongs that the american nation hasbrought upon them? shall the doors of churches and school-houses be shut upon them? shall states arise and shake them out? shall the church of christ hear in silencethe taunt that is thrown at them, and shrink away from the helpless hand thatthey stretch out; and, by her silence, encourage the cruelty that would chase themfrom our borders? if it must be so, it will be a mournfulspectacle.

if it must be so, the country will havereason to tremble, when it remembers that the fate of nations is in the hands of onewho is very pitiful, and of tender compassion. do you say, "we don't want them here; letthem go to africa"? that the providence of god has provided arefuge in africa, is, indeed, a great and noticeable fact; but that is no reason whythe church of christ should throw off that responsibility to this outcast race whichher profession demands of her. to fill up liberia with an ignorant,inexperienced, half-barbarized race, just escaped from the chains of slavery, wouldbe only to prolong, for ages, the period of

struggle and conflict which attends theinception of new enterprises. let the church of the north receive thesepoor sufferers in the spirit of christ; receive them to the educating advantages ofchristian republican society and schools, until they have attained to somewhat of a moral and intellectual maturity, and thenassist them in their passage to those shores, where they may put in practice thelessons they have learned in america. there is a body of men at the north,comparatively small, who have been doing this; and, as the result, this country hasalready seen examples of men, formerly slaves, who have rapidly acquired property,reputation, and education.

talent has been developed, which,considering the circumstances, is certainly remarkable; and, for moral traits ofhonesty, kindness, tenderness of feeling,-- for heroic efforts and self-denials, endured for the ransom of brethren andfriends yet in slavery,--they have been remarkable to a degree that, consideringthe influence under which they were born, is surprising. the writer has lived, for many years, onthe frontier-line of slave states, and has had great opportunities of observationamong those who formerly were slaves. they have been in her family as servants;and, in default of any other school to

receive them, she has, in many cases, hadthem instructed in a family school, with her own children. she has also the testimony of missionaries,among the fugitives in canada, in coincidence with her own experience; andher deductions, with regard to the capabilities of the race, are encouragingin the highest degree. the first desire of the emancipated slave,generally, is for education. there is nothing that they are not willingto give or do to have their children instructed, and, so far as the writer hasobserved herself, or taken the testimony of teachers among them, they are remarkablyintelligent and quick to learn.

the results of schools, founded for them bybenevolent individuals in cincinnati, fully establish this. the author gives the following statement offacts, on the authority of professor c.e. stowe, then of lane seminary, ohio, withregard to emancipated slaves, now resident in cincinnati; given to show the capability of the race, even without any veryparticular assistance or encouragement. the initial letters alone are given.they are all residents of cincinnati. "b----. furniture maker; twenty years inthe city; worth ten thousand dollars, all his own earnings; a baptist.

"c----. full black; stolen from africa;sold in new orleans; been free fifteen years; paid for himself six hundreddollars; a farmer; owns several farms in indiana; presbyterian; probably worth fifteen or twenty thousand dollars, allearned by himself. "k----. full black; dealer in real estate;worth thirty thousand dollars; about forty years old; free six years; paid eighteenhundred dollars for his family; member of the baptist church; received a legacy from his master, which he has taken good careof, and increased. "g----. full black; coal dealer; aboutthirty years old; worth eighteen thousand

dollars; paid for himself twice, being oncedefrauded to the amount of sixteen hundred dollars; made all his money by his own efforts--much of it while a slave, hiringhis time of his master, and doing business for himself; a fine, gentlemanly fellow. "w----. three-fourths black; barber andwaiter; from kentucky; nineteen years free; paid for self and family over threethousand dollars; deacon in the baptist church. "g.d----. three-fourths black; white-washer; from kentucky; nine years free; paid fifteen hundred dollars for self andfamily; recently died, aged sixty; worth

six thousand dollars." professor stowe says, "with all these,except g----, i have been, for some years, personally acquainted, and make mystatements from my own knowledge." the writer well remembers an aged coloredwoman, who was employed as a washerwoman in her father's family.the daughter of this woman married a slave. she was a remarkably active and capableyoung woman, and, by her industry and thrift, and the most persevering self-denial, raised nine hundred dollars for her husband's freedom, which she paid, as sheraised it, into the hands of his master. she yet wanted a hundred dollars of theprice, when he died.

she never recovered any of the money. these are but few facts, among multitudeswhich might be adduced, to show the self- denial, energy, patience, and honesty,which the slave has exhibited in a state of freedom. and let it be remembered that theseindividuals have thus bravely succeeded in conquering for themselves comparativewealth and social position, in the face of every disadvantage and discouragement. the colored man, by the law of ohio, cannotbe a voter, and, till within a few years, was even denied the right of testimony inlegal suits with the white.

nor are these instances confined to thestate of ohio. in all states of the union we see men, butyesterday burst from the shackles of slavery, who, by a self-educating force,which cannot be too much admired, have risen to highly respectable stations insociety. pennington, among clergymen, douglas andward, among editors, are well known instances. if this persecuted race, with everydiscouragement and disadvantage, have done thus much, how much more they might do ifthe christian church would act towards them in the spirit of her lord!

this is an age of the world when nationsare trembling and convulsed. a mighty influence is abroad, surging andheaving the world, as with an earthquake. and is america safe? every nation that carries in its bosomgreat and unredressed injustice has in it the elements of this last convulsion. for what is this mighty influence thusrousing in all nations and languages those groanings that cannot be uttered, for man'sfreedom and equality? o, church of christ, read the signs of thetimes! is not this power the spirit of him whosekingdom is yet to come, and whose will to

be done on earth as it is in heaven? but who may abide the day of his appearing? "for that day shall burn as an oven: and heshall appear as a swift witness against those that oppress the hireling in hiswages, the widow and the fatherless, and that turn aside the stranger in his right: and he shall break in pieces theoppressor." are not these dread words for a nationbearing in her bosom so mighty an injustice? christians! every time that you pray thatthe kingdom of christ may come, can you

forget that prophecy associates, in dreadfellowship, the day of vengeance with the year of his redeemed? a day of grace is yet held out to us.both north and south have been guilty before god; and the christian church has aheavy account to answer. not by combining together, to protectinjustice and cruelty, and making a common capital of sin, is this union to be saved,--but by repentance, justice and mercy; for, not surer is the eternal law by which the millstone sinks in the ocean, than thatstronger law, by which injustice and cruelty shall bring on nations the wrath ofalmighty god!

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