STEP BY STEP

OR

TIDY'S WAY TO FREEDOM. 

 "Woe to all who grind Their brethren of a common Father down! To all who plunder from the immortal mind Its bright and glorious crown!" --WHITTIER. 

[colophon omitted]

Published By The

American Tract Society, 28 Cornhill, Boston. 

Transcriber's Note: I have removed page numbers; all italicsare emphasis only. I have omitted running heads and have closedcontractions, e. G. "she 's" becoming "she's"; in addition, on page180, stanza 3, line 1, I have changed the single quotation mark at thebeginning of the line to a double quotation mark. 

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1862, by THE AMERICANTRACT SOCIETY, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of theDistrict of Massachusetts. 

Riverside, Cambridge:

Stereotyped And Printed By H. O. Houghton. 

CONTENTS

CHAP. PAGE

 I. INTRODUCTION. . . . . . 5 II. THE BABY. . . . . 13 III. SUNSHINE. . . . . 24 IV. SEVERAL EVENTS. . . . 36 V. A NEW HOME. . . . . 43 VI. BEGINNINGS OF KNOWLEDGE. 50 VII. FRANCES. . . . . 62 VIII. PRAYER. . . . . 75 IX. THE FIRST LESSON. . . . 87 X. LONY'S PETITION. . . . . 95 XI. ROUGH PLACES. . . . . 105 XII. A GREAT UNDERTAKING. . 112 XIII. A LONG JOURNEY. . . . 127 XIV. CRUELTY. . . . . 137 XV. COTTON. . . . . 147 XVI. RESCUE. . . . . 154 XVII. TRUE LIBERTY. . . . 165 XVIII. CROWNING MERCIES. . . 174

OLD DINAH JOHNSON. . . . . 

STEP BY STEP. 

CHAPTER I. INTRODUCTION. 

MY DEAR CHILDREN, --All of you who read this little book have doubtlessheard more or less of slavery. You know it is the system by which aportion of our people hold their fellow-creatures as property, and doomthem to perpetual servitude. It is a hateful and accursed institution, which God can not look upon but with abhorrence, and which no one ofhis children should for a moment tolerate. It is opposed to every thingChristian and humane, and full of all meanness and cruelty. It treats afellow-being, only because his skin is not so fair as our own, asthough he were a dumb animal or a piece of furniture. It allows himno expression of choice about any thing, and no liberty of action. Itrecognizes and employs all the instincts of the lower, but ignores andtramples down all the faculties of his higher, nature. Can there be agreater wrong?

It is said by some, in extenuation of this wrong, that the slaves arewell fed and clothed, and are kindly, even affectionately, lookedafter. This is true, in some cases, --with the house-servants, particularly, --but, as a general thing, their food and clothing arecoarse and insufficient. But supposing it was otherwise; supposing theywere provided for with as much liberality as are the working classes atthe North, what is that when put into the balance with all the ills theysuffer? What comfort is it, when a wife is torn from her husband, or amother from her children, to know that each is to have enough to eat?None at all. The most generous provision for the body can not satisfythe longings of the heart, or compensate for its bereavements. 

They suffer, also, a constant dread and fear of change, which is notthe least of their torturing troubles. A kind owner may be taken away bydeath, and the new one be harsh and cruel; or necessity may compelhim to sell his slaves, and thus they may be thrown into most unhappysituations. So they live with a heavy cloud of sorrow always beforethem, which their eyes can not look through or beyond. There is nohope--no EARTHLY hope--for this poor, oppressed race. 

Their minds, too, are starved. No education, not even the least, isallowed. It is a criminal offense in some of the States to teach a slaveto read. Now, if they could be made to exist without any consciousnessof intellectual capacity, it would not be so bad. But this isimpossible. They think and reason and wonder about things which theysee and hear; and, in many cases, feel an eager desire to be instructed. This desire can not be gratified, because it would unfit them for theirservile condition; therefore all teaching is rigidly denied them. Thetreasures of knowledge are bolted and barred to their approach, andthey are kept in the utmost darkness and ignorance. Oh, to starve themind!--Is it not far worse than to starve the body?

There is yet another process of famishing to which the slaves aresubjected. They are not, as a general thing, taught by their mastersabout God, the salvation of Jesus Christ or the way to heaven. The SOULis starved. To be sure, they pick up, here and there, a few crumbs ofreligious truth, and make the most of their scanty supply. Many of themtruly love the Lord; and his unseen presence and joyful anticipationsof heaven make them submissive to their hardships, and cheerful andfaithful in their duties. But they can not thank their masters for whatreligious light and knowledge they get. 

And who are these that hold their fellow-creatures in such cruelbondage, starving body, mind, and soul with such indifference andinhumanity? We blush to tell you. Many of them are of the number ofthose who profess to love the Lord their God with all the heart, andtheir neighbor as themselves. Can it be possible that God's own childrencan participate in such a wickedness; can buy and sell, beat and kill, their fellow-creatures? Can those who have humbly repented of sin, andby faith accepted of the salvation of Jesus Christ, turn from his holycross to abuse others who are redeemed by the same precious blood, andare heirs to the same glorious immortality? CAN such be Christians?

And, children, you probably all understand that slavery is the solecause of the sad war which is now ravaging our beloved country; andChristian people are praying, not only that the war may cease, butthat the sin which has caused it may cease also. We believe that God isoverruling all things to bring about this happy result, and before thislittle story shall meet your eyes, there may be no more slaves withinour borders. Still we shall not have written it in vain, if it helpyou to realize, more clearly than you have done, the sufferings anddegradation to which this unfortunate class have been subjected, and tolabor with zeal in the work which will then devolve upon us of educatingand elevating them. 

My story is not one of UNUSUAL interest. Thousands and ten of thousandsequally affecting might be told, and many far more romantic andthrilling. What a day will that be, when the recorded history of everyslave-life shall be read before an assembled universe! What a longcatalogue of martyrs and heroes will then be revealed! What complicatedtales of wrongs and woes! What crowns and palms of victory will then beawarded! What treasures of wrath heaped up against the day of wrath willthen be poured in fiery indignation upon deserving heads! Truly, then, will come to pass the saying of the Lord Jesus, "The first shall be lastand the last first. "

Then, too, will appear most gloriously the loving kindness and tendermercy of God, who loves to stoop to the poor and humble, and to care forthose who are friendless and alone. It seems as if our Heavenly Fathertook special delight in revealing the truths of salvation to thisuntutored people, in a mysterious way leading them into gospel lightand liberty; so that though men take pains to keep them in ignorance, multitudes of them give evidence of piety, and find consolation fortheir miseries in the sweet love of God. 

It is the dealings of God in guiding one of these to a knowledge ofhimself, that I wish to relate to you in the following chapters. 

CHAPTER II. THE BABY. 

IN a snug corner of a meager slave-cabin, on a low cot, lies a littlebabe asleep. A scarlet honeysuckle of wild and luxuriant growth shadesthe uncurtained and unsashed window; and the humming-birds, flittingamong its brilliant blossoms, murmur a constant, gentle lullaby for theinfant sleeper. See, its skin is not so dark but that we may clearlytrace the blue veins underlying it; the lips, half parted, are lovelyas a rosebud; and the soft, silky curls are dewy as the flowers on thisJune morning. A dimpled arm and one naked foot have escaped from thegay patch-work quilt, which some fond hand has closely tucked about thelittle form; and the breath comes and goes quickly, as if the foldedeyes were feasting on visions of beauty and delight. Dear little one!

 "We should see the spirits ringing Round thee, were the clouds away; 'Tis the child-heart draws them, singing In the silent-seeming clay. "

Though that child-heart beats beneath a despised skin, though it has itsresting-place in a hovel, the angels may be there. Their loving, pityingnatures shrink not from poverty, but stoop with heavenly sympathy to themean abodes of suffering and misery. 

A soft step steals in through the half-opened door, across the room, anda fervent kiss is laid on the little velvet cheek. 

Who is the intruder? Ah, who cares to watch and smile over a sleepinginfant, save its mother? Here, in this rude cabin, is a mother'sheart, --tender with its holy affections, and all aglow with delight, asshe gazes on the beautiful vision before her. 

We must call the mother Annie. She had but one name, for she was aslave. Like the horse or the dog, she must have some appellation bywhich, as an individual, she might be designated; a sort of appendageon which to hang, as it were, the commands, threats, and severities thatfrom time to time might be administered; but farther than that, for herown personal uses, why did she need a name? She was not a person, only athing, --a piece of property belonging to the Carroll estate. 

But for all that, she was a woman and a mother. God had sealed her such, and who could obliterate his impress, or rob her of the crown he hadplaced about her head, --a crown of thorns though it were? Her heart wasas full of all sweet motherly instincts as if she had been born in amore favored condition; and the swarthy complexion of her child madeit no less dear or lovely in her sight; while a consciousness of itsdegradation and sad future served only to deepen and intensify her love. She knew what her child was born to suffer; but affection thrust faraway the evil day, that she might not lose the happiness of the present. The babe was hers, --her own, --and for long years yet would be her joyand comfort. 

Annie had other children, but they were wild, romping boys, grown outof their babyhood, and so very naturally left to run and take care ofthemselves. She had not ceased to love them, however, and would havemanifested it more, but for the idol, the little girl baby, which hadnow for nearly a year nestled in her arms, and completely possessedher heart. When they were hungry, they came like chickens about hercabin-door, and being mistress of the kitchen, she always had plenty ofgood, substantial crumbs for them; and when they were sick, she nursedthem with pitying care; but this was about all the attention theyreceived. 

The baby engrossed every leisure moment she could command. Many times aday she would pause in her work to caress it. She would seat it upon thefloor, amid a perfect bed of honeysuckle blossoms, and bring the brightorange gourds that grew around the door for its amusement. Sometimes abroken toy or a shining trinket, which she had picked up in the house, or a smooth pebble from the yard, would be added to the treasures of thelittle one. Then she would come with food, the soft-boiled rice, or thesweet corn gruel, she knew so well how to prepare; and often, oftenshe would steal in, as now, out of pure fondness, to watch its peacefulslumbers. 

"Named the pickaninny yet?" asked the master one day, as he passedthe cabin, and carelessly looked in upon the mother and child amusingthemselves within. "'Tis time you did; 'most time to turn her off now, you see. "

"Oh, Massa, don't say dat word, " answered the woman, imploringly. "'Pears I couldn't b'ar to turn her off yet, --couldn't live without her, no ways. Reckon I'll call her Tidy; dat ar's my sister's name, and she'sgot dat same sweet look 'bout de eyes, --don't you think so, Massa? PoorTidy! she's"--and Annie stopped, and a deep sigh, instead of words, filled up the sentence, and tears dropped down upon the baby's forehead. Memory traveled back to that dreadful night when this only sister hadbeen dragged from her bed, chained with a slave-gang, and driven off tothe dreaded South, never more to be heard from. 

WE talk of the "sunny South;"--to the slave, the South is cold, dark, and cheerless; the land of untold horrors, the grave of hope and joy. 

"'Pears as if my poor old mudder, " said Annie, brushing away the tears, "never got up right smart after Tidy went away. She'd had six childrensold from her afore, and she set stores by her and me, 'cause we wasgirls, and we was all she had left, too. Tidy was pooty as a flower;and dat's just what your fadder, Massa Carroll, sold her for. My poormudder--how she cried and took on! but then she grew more settled like. She said she'd gi'n her up for de good Lord to take care on. She said, if he could take care of de posies in de woods, he certain sure wouldlook after her, and so she left off groaning like; but she's never gotover that sad look in her face. 'Oh, ' says she to me, says she, 'Annie, do call dat leetle cretur's name Tidy, --mebbe 'twill make my poor, soreheart heal up;' and so I will. "

"So I would, Annie; yes, so I would, " said the Master soothingly. "So Iwould, if 'twill be any comfort to poor old Marcia, --clever old soul sheis. She was my mammy, and I was always fond of her. She has trotted meon her knee, and toted me about on her back, many an hour. I mustgo down to the quarters this very day, and see if she has thingscomfortable. She's getting old, and we must do well by her in her oldage. And you, Annie, you mustn't mind those other things. We mustn'tborrow trouble. And we can't help it, you know; and we mustn't cry andfret for what we can't help. What's the use? It don't do any good, yousee, and only makes a bad matter worse. Must take things as they come, in this world of ours, Annie;" and the Master thought thus to assuagethe tide of bitter recollection in the breast of his down-troddenbond-woman, and divert her mind from the painful future before her andher darling child. In vain. The tears still fell over the brow of thebaby, flowing from the deep fountain of sorrow and tenderness thatsprings forth only from a mother's heart. 

"Oh, Massa, " she ventured timidly to say amid her sobs, "please don'tnever part baby and me. "

"Be a good girl, Annie, " said he, "and mind your work, and don't beborrowing trouble. We'll take good care of you. You've got a nice baby, that's a fact, --the smartest little thing on the whole plantation; seehow well you can raise her now. "

The fond heart of the trembling mother leaped back again to itshappiness at the praise bestowed upon her baby; and taking up the littleblossom, she laid it with pride upon her bosom, murmuring, "Years ofgood times we'll have, sweety, afore sich dark days come, --mebbe they'llnever come to you and me. "

Alas, vain hope! Scarcely a single year had passed, when one day shecame to the cot to look at the little sleeper, and lo, her treasure wasgone! The master had found it convenient, in making a sale of somefield hands, to THROW IN this infant, by way of closing a satisfactorybargain. 

None can tell, but those who have gone through the trying experience, how hard it is for a mother to part with her child when God calls itaway by death. But oh, how much harder it must be to have a babe tornaway from the maternal arms by the stern hand of oppression, and flungout on the cruel tide of selfishness and passion! Let us weep, dearchildren, for the poor slave mothers who have to endure such wrongs. 

I will not undertake to describe the distress of this poor woman whenthe knowledge of her loss burst upon her. It was as when the talltree is shivered by the lightning's blast. Her strong frame shookand trembled beneath the shock; her eye rolled and burned in tearlessanguish, and her voice failed her in the intensity of her grief. Forhours she was unable to move. Alone, uncomforted, she lay upon theearth, crushed beneath the weight of this unexpected calamity. 

"Leave her alone, " said the master, "and let her grieve it out. Thecat will mew when her kittens are taken away. She'll get over it beforelong, and come up again all right. "

"Ye mus' b'ar it, chile, " said Annie's poor, old mother, drawing fromher own experience the only comfort which could be of any avail. "Debressed Lord will help ye; nobody else can. I's so sorry for ye, honey;but yer poor, old mudder can't do noffin. 'Tis de yoke de HeavenlyMassa puts on yer neck, and ye can't take it off nohow till he ondoes ithissef wid his own hand. Ye mus' b'ar it, and say, De will ob de bressedLord be done. "

But, trying as this separation was, it proved to be the first link inthat chain of loving-kindnesses by which this little slave-child was tobe drawn towards God. Do you remember this verse in the Bible: "I haveloved thee with an everlasting love; therefore with loving kindness haveI drawn thee. "

CHAPTER III. SUNSHINE. 

IF ever there was a sunshiny corner of slavery, it was that into whicha kind Providence dropped this little, helpless babe, now but a littlemore than two years old. 

It was a pleasant day in early spring when Colonel Lee alighted fromhis gig before the family mansion at Rosevale, and laid the child, as apresent, at the feet of his daughter Matilda. 

Miss Matilda Lee was about thirty years of age, --as active and thriftya little woman as could be found any where within the domains of thiscruel system of oppression. Slavery is like a two-edged knife, cuttingboth ways. It not only destroys the black, but demoralizes and ruinsthe white race. Those who hold slaves are usually indolent, proud, andinefficient. They think it a disgrace to work by the side of the negro, and therefore will allow things to be left in a very careless, untidyway, rather than put forth their energy to alter or improve them. And asit is impossible for slaves, untaught and degraded as they are, to givea neat and thrifty appearance to their homes, we, who have been broughtup at the North, accustomed to work ourselves, assisted by well-traineddomestics, can scarcely realize the many discomforts often to beexperienced in Southern houses. But Miss Lee was unusually energetic andhelpful, desirous of having every thing about her neat and tasteful, andnot afraid to do something towards it with her own hands. 

Being the eldest daughter, the entire charge of the family had devolvedupon her since the death of her mother, which had occurred about tenyears before. Within this time, her brothers and sisters had beenmarried, and now she and her father were all that were left at the oldhomestead. 

Their servants, too, had dwindled away. Some had been given to thesons and daughters when they left the parental roof; some had died, andothers had been sold to pay debts and furnish the means of living. OldRosa, the cook, Nancy, the waiting-maid, and Methuselah, the ancientgardener, were all the house-servants that remained. So they lived ina very quiet and frugal way; and Miss Matilda's activities, not beingentirely engrossed with family cares, found employment in the nurture offlowers and pets. 

The grounds in front of the old-fashioned mansion had been laid outoriginally in very elaborate style; and, though of late years theyhad been greatly neglected, they still retained traces of their formersplendor. The rose-vines on the inside of the enclosure had grownover the low, brick wall, to meet and mingle with the trees and bushesoutside, till together they formed a solid and luxuriant mass ofverdure. White and crimson roses shone amid the dark, glossy foliageof the mountain-laurel, which held up with sturdy stem its own richclusters of fluted cups, that seemed to assert equality with the queenof flowers, and would not be eclipsed by the fragrant loveliness oftheir beautiful dependents. The borders of box, which had once beentrimmed and trained into fanciful points and tufts and convolutions ofverdure, had grown into misshapen clumps; and the white, pebbly walks nolonger sparkled in the sunlight. 

Still Miss Matilda, by the aid of Methuselah, in appearance almostas ancient as we may suppose his namesake to have been, found greatpleasure in cultivating her flower-beds; and every year, her crocusesand hyacinths, crown-imperials and tulips, pinks, lilies, and roses, none the less beautiful because they are so commonly enjoyed, gave acheerful aspect to the place. 

Her numerous pets made the house equally bright and pleasant. Therewas Sir Walter Raleigh, the dog, and Mrs. Felina, the great, splendid, Maltese mother of three beautiful blue kittens; Jack and Gill, thegentle, soft-toned Java sparrows; and Ruby, the unwearying canarysinger, always in loud and uninterpretable conversation with San Rosa, the mocking-bird. The birds hung in the broad, deep window of thesitting-room, in the shade of the jasmine and honeysuckle vines thatembowered it and filled the air with delicious perfume. The dog andcat, when not inclined to active enjoyments, were accommodated withcomfortable beds in the adjoining apartment, which was the sleeping-roomof their mistress. 

The new household pet became an occupant of this same room. 

"Laws, now, Miss Tilda, ye a'n't gwine to put de chile in ther wid allde dogs and cats, now. 'Pears ye might have company enough o' nightswidout takin' in a cryin' baby. She'll cry sure widout her mammy, andwhat ye gwine to do thin?" and old Rosa stoutly protested against thearrangement. 

"Never mind, Aunt Rosa, don't worry now; I'll manage to take goodcare of the little creature. I know what you're after, --you want heryourself. "

"Ho, ho ho! Laws, now, Miss Tilda, you dun know noffing 'bout babies;takes an old mammy like me to fotch 'em up. Come here, child; what's yername?"

The frightened little one, whose tongue had not yet learned to uttermany words, made no attempt to answer, but stood timidly looking fromone to another of the surrounding group. 

"She ha'n't got no name, 'ta'n't likely, " suggested Nance. 

"We must christen her, then, " said Miss Lee. 

"Carroll called her Tidy, " remarked the old gentleman, entering the roomat that moment. 

"DAT'S a name of 'spectability, " said Rosa, with a satisfied air. "'Tismy 'pinion chillen should allus have 'spectable names, else they're'posed on in dis yer world. Nudd's Tidy, now, dere's a spec'men for yer. Never was no more 'complished 'fectioner dan she. She knowed how to cookall de earth, she did. Hi! couldn't she barbecue a heifer, or brilea cock's comb, jest as 'spertly as Miss Tilda here broiders a ruffle. Right smart cretur she wor. And so YE'RE a gwine to be, honey, --your oldmammy sees it in de tips ob yer fingers;" and Rosa caught up the child, and well-nigh smothered it with all sorts of maternal fondnesses. 

"Now Nance, " continued the old negress, turning with an air of authorityto the tall, loose-jointed, reed-like maid, "Now Nance, ye mind yerdoin's in dese yer premises. Don't ye go for to kick de young un roundlike as ef she cost noffin'. Ef ye do, look out;" and she shook herturbaned head, and doubled her fist in very threatening manner beforethe girl. "Now we've got a baby in dis yer house, we'll see how de tingsis gwine for to go. "

A baby in the Lee mansion did indeed inaugurate a new order of thingsin the family. So young a servant they had not had for many a day on theestate; and Rosa felt at once the responsibility of her position, andplayed the mother to her heart's content. All the care of the child'seducation seemed from that moment to devolve upon her, notwithstandingMiss Lee's repeated assertions that SHE designed to bring up the littleone after her own heart, and that Tidy should never wait upon any onebut herself. 

Between them both, Tidy had things pretty much her own way. Such aninfant of course could not be expected to comprehend the fact that shewas a slave, and born to be ruled over, and trodden under foot. Like anyother little one, she enjoyed existence, and was as happy as could beall the day long. Every thing around her, --the chickens and turkeysin the yard, the flowers in the garden, the kittens and birds in thesitting-room, and the goodies in the kitchen, --added to her pleasure. She frisked and gamboled about the house and grounds as free and joyousas the squirrels in the woods, and without a thought or suspicion thatany thing but happiness was in store for her. She not only slept atnight in the room of her mistress, but when the daily meals were served, the child, seated on a low bench beside Miss Lee, was fed from her owndish. So that, in respect to her animal nature, she fared as well as anychild need to; but this was all. Not a word of instruction of any kinddid she receive. 

As she grew older, and her active mind, observing and wondering at themany objects of interest in nature, burst out into childish questions, "What is this for?" and "Who made that?" her mistress would answercarelessly, "I don't know, " or "You'll find out by and by. " Her thirstfor knowledge was never satisfied; for while Miss Lee was good-naturedand gentle in her ways toward the child, she took no pains to impartinformation of any kind. Why should she? Tidy was only a slave. 

Here, my little readers, you may see the difference between hercondition and your own. You are carefully taught every thing that willbe of use to you. Even before you ask questions, they are answered; andfather and mother, older brothers and sisters, aunties, teachers, andfriends are ready and anxious to explain to you all the curious andinteresting things that come under your notice. Indeed, so desirous arethey to cultivate your intellectual nature, that they seek to stimulateyour appetite for knowledge, by drawing your attention to many thingswhich otherwise you would overlook. At the same time, they point you tothe great and all-wise Creator, that you may admire and love him who hasmade every thing for our highest happiness and good. 

But slavery depends for its existence and growth upon the ignorance ofits miserable victims. If Tidy's questions had been answered, and hercuriosity satisfied, she would have gone on in her investigations; andfrom studying objects in nature, she would have come to study books, andperhaps would have read the Bible, and thus found out a great deal whichit is not considered proper for a slave to know. 

"We couldn't keep our servants, if we were to instruct them, " saysthe slaveholder; and therefore he makes the law which constitutes it acriminal offense to teach a slave to read. 

But Tidy was taught to WORK. That is just what slaves are made for, --towork, and so save their owners the trouble of working themselves. Slaveholders do not recognize the fact that God designed us all to work, and has so arranged matters, that true comfort and happiness can only bereached through the gateway of labor. It is no blessing to be idle, andlet others wait upon us; and in this respect the slaves certainly havethe advantage of their masters. 

Tidy was an apt learner, and at eight years of age she could do up MissMatilda's ruffles, clean the great brass andirons and fender in thesitting-room, and set a room to rights as neatly as any person in thehouse. 

CHAPTER IV. SEVERAL EVENTS. 

SHALL I pause here in my narrative to tell you what became of Annieand some of the other persons who have been mentioned in the precedingchapters?

Tidy often saw her mother. Miss Lee used to visit Mr. Carroll's family, and never went without taking Tidy, that the child and her mother mighthave a good time together. And good times indeed they were. 

When Annie learned that her baby had been taken to Rosevale, that shewas so well cared for, and that they would be able sometimes to see oneanother, her grief was very much abated, and she began to think in whatnew ways she could show her love for her little one. She saved all themoney she could get; and, as she had opportunity, she would buy a bitof gay calico, to make the child a frock or an apron. Mothers, youperceive, are all alike, from the days of Hannah, who made a "littlecoat" for her son Samuel, and "brought it to him from year to year, when she came up with her husband to the yearly sacrifice, " down to thepresent time. Nothing pleases them more than to provide things usefuland pretty for their little ones. Even this slave-mother, with herscanty means, felt this same longing. It did her heart good to bedoing something for her child; and so she was constantly planning andpreparing for these visits, that she might never be without somethingnew and gratifying to give her. In the warm days of summer, she wouldtake her down to Sweet-Brier Pond, a pretty pool of water right in theheart of a sweet pine grove, a little way from the house, and Tidywould have a good splashing frolic in the water, and come out lookingas bright and shining as a newly-polished piece of mahogany. Her motherwould press the water from her dripping locks, and turn the soft, glossyhair in short, smooth curls over her fingers, put on the new frock, and then set her out before her admiring eyes, and exclaim in her fondmotherly pride, --

"You's a purty cretur, honey. You dun know noffin how yer mudder lubsye. "

Tidy remembers to this day the delightful afternoon thus spent thevery last time she went to see her mother, though neither of them thenthought it was to be the last. Mr. Carroll, Annie's master, was veryclose in all his business transactions, never allowing, as he remarked, his left hand to know what his right hand did. He stole Tidy away, as wehave already told you, from her mother; and this was the way he usuallymanaged in parting his slaves, especially any that were much valued. Hesaid it was "a part of his religion to deal TENDERLY with his people!"

"'Tis a great deal better, " said he, "to avoid a row. They wouldmoan and wail and make such a fuss, if they knew they were to changequarters. "

Humane man, wasn't he?

Mr. Carroll got into debt, and an opportunity occurring, he sold Annieand her four boys. The bargain was made without the knowledge of anyone on the estate; and in the night they were transferred to their newmaster. Nobody ever knew to what part of the country they were carried. 

When the news reached the ear of Marcia, Annie's mother, it proved to bemore than she could bear. Her very last comfort was thus torn from her. When she was told of it, the poor, decrepit old woman fell from herchair upon the floor of her cabin insensible. The people lifted her upand laid her upon the bed, but she never came to consciousness. She laywithout sense or motion until the next day, when she died. The slavessaid, "Old Marcia's heart broke. "

Thus little Tidy was left alone in the world, without a single relativeto love her. Didn't she care much about it? That happened thirtyyears ago, and she can not speak of it even now without tears. But shecomforts herself by saying, "I shall meet them in heaven. " Annie may notyet have arrived at that blessed home; but Marcia has rejoiced all theseyears in the presence of the Lord she loved, and has found, by a gladexperience, that the happiness of heaven can compensate for all thetrials of earth. 

 "For God has marked each sorrowing day, And numbered every secret tear; And heaven's long age of bliss shall pay For all his children suffer here. "

And now I must tell you of another death which occurred about this sametime. It was that of Colonel Lee. He had been a rich and a proud man, and it would seem, that, like the rich man in the parable, he had hadall his good things in this life; and now that he had come to thegates of death, he found himself in a sadly destitute and lamentablecondition. He was afraid to die; and when he came to the very last, hisshrieks of terror and distress were fearful. His mind was wandering, andhe fancied some strong being was binding him with chains and shackles. He screamed for help, and even called for Rosa, his faithful oldservant, to come and help him. 

"Take off those hand-cuffs, " he cried; "take them off. I can not bearthem. Don't let them put on those chains. Oh, I can't move! They'll dragme away! Stop them; help me! save me!"

But, alas! no one could save him. The man who had all his life beenloading his fellow-creatures with chains and fetters was now in thegrasp of One mightier than he, who was "delivering him over into chainsof darkness, to be reserved unto the judgment. "

How dreadful was such an end!

"I would rather be a slave with all my sorrows, " said Tidy, when sherelated this sad story, "and wait for comfort until I get to heaven, than to have all the riches of all the slaveholders in the world, gainedby injustice and oppression; for I could only carry them as far as thegrave, and there they would be an awful weight to drag me down intotorments for ever. "

CHAPTER V. A NEW HOME. 

AFTER Colonel Lee's death, which happened when Tidy was about ten yearsold, the plantation and all the slaves were sold, and Miss Matilda, withTidy, who was her own personal property, found a home with her brother. Mr. Richard Lee owned an estate about twenty miles from Rosevale. His lands had once been well cultivated, but now received very littleattention, for medicinal springs had been discovered there a few yearsbefore, and it was expected that these springs, by being made a resortfor invalids and fashionable people, would bring to the family all theincome they could desire. 

Mr. And Mrs. Lee were not very pleasant people. They were selfish andpenurious, and hard-hearted and severe towards their servants. They nodoubt were happy to have their sister take up her abode with them; butthere is reason to believe she was chiefly welcome on account of thevaluable little piece of property she brought with her. Tidy was justexactly what Mrs. Lee wanted to fill a place in her family, which shehad never before been able to supply to her satisfaction. She neededher as an under-nurse, and waiter-and-tender in general upon her fourchildren. Amelia, the eldest, was just Tidy's age, and Susan was twoyears younger. Then came Lemuel, a boy of three, and George, the baby. 

Mammy Grace was the family nurse, but as she was growing old andsomewhat infirm, she required a pair of young, sprightly feet torun after little Lemmy to keep him out of mischief, and to carry theteething, worrying baby about. Tidy was just the child for her. 

The morning after her arrival, Mrs. Lee instructed her in her dutiesthus:--

"You are to do what Mammy Grace and the children tell you to. See thatLemmy doesn't stuff things into his ears and nose; mind you don't letthe baby fall, and behave yourself. "

She wasn't told what would be the consequence if she did not "behaveherself, " but Tidy felt that she had something to fear from thatflashing eye and heavy brow. Miss Matilda had protected her, as far asshe was able, though without the child's knowledge, by saying to hersister that she was willing her little servant should be employed in thefamily, but that she was never to be whipped. 

"You're mighty saving of your little piece of flesh and blood, " said hersister-in-law. "I find it doesn't work well to be too tender; they needa little cuffing now and then to keep them straight. "

"Tidy is a good child, " replied Miss Matilda. "She always does as she istold, and I have never had occasion to punish her in my life; and I cannot consent to her being treated severely. "

"We shall see, " said Mrs. Lee; "but, I tell you, I take no impudencefrom my hands. "

Miss Matilda's stipulation and her constant presence in the family nodoubt screened Tidy from much that was unpleasant from her new mistress;for if children or servants are ever so well inclined, an ugly andeasily excited temper in a superior will provoke evil dispositions inthem, and MAKE occasions of punishment. But in this case the mistresswas evidently held in check. A knock on the head sometimes, a kick or across word, was the greatest severity she ventured to inflict; so that, upon the whole, the new home was a pleasant and happy one. 

The services Tidy was required to render were a perfect delight to her. Like all children, she liked to be associated with those of her own age, and, though called a slave, to all intents and purposes she wasreceived as the playmate and companion of Amelia and Susan. They weregood-natured, agreeable little girls, and it was a pleasure ratherthan a task to walk to and from school, and carry their books anddinner-basket for them. And to go into the play-house, and have thehandling of the dolls, the tea-sets, and toys, was employment ascharming as it was new. 

The nursery was in the cabin of Mammy Grace, which was situated a fewsteps from the family mansion, and was distinguished from the log-hutsof the other slaves, by having brick walls and two rooms. The inner roomcontained the baby's cradle, a crib for the little one who had not yetoutgrown his noon-day nap, her own bed, and now a cot for Tidy. In theouter stood the spinning-wheel, --at which the old nurse wrought when notoccupied with the children, --a small table, an old chest of drawers, anda few rude chairs. Some old carpets which had been discarded from thehouse were laid over the floors, and gave an air of comfort to theplace. One shelf by the side of the fireplace held all the china andplate they had to use; for, you must know, little readers, that slavecabins contain very few of the conveniences which are so familiar toyou. To assert, as some people do, that the negroes do not need them, issimply to say that they have never been used to the common comforts oflife, and so do not know their worth. 

Nevertheless, the place with all its scantiness of furniture was a happyabode for Tidy, who found in Mammy Grace even a better mother than oldRosa had been to her; for, besides being kind and cheerful, she waspious, and from her lips it was that Tidy first heard the name ofGod. Would you believe it? Tidy had lived to be ten years old in thisChristian land, and had never heard of the God who made her. Miss Lee, with all her kindness, was not a Christian, and never read the Bible, offered prayer, or went to church; so that the poor child had grown upthus far as ignorant of religious truth as a heathen. 

We may well consider then the providence of God which brought her underthe care of Mammy Grace, the negro nurse, as another link in that goldenchain of love which was to draw her up out of the shame and miseryof her abject condition to the knowledge and service of her HeavenlyFather. 

CHAPTER VI. BEGINNINGS OF KNOWLEDGE. 

THE first day of the new service was over. The two babies had beencarried to the house and put to bed as usual at sunset, and Mammy Gracehad mixed the corn-pone for supper, and laid it to bake beneath the hotashes. 

Tidy stretched herself at full length near the open door of the cabin, and resting her head upon her hand looked out. All was still save thehum of voices from the house, and now and then the plaintive song ofthe whippoorwill in the meadow. The new moon was just hiding its silverycrescent behind Tulip Mountain, and the shadows were growing everymoment darker among the flower-laden trees that covered its sides. It was just the hour for thinking; and as the weary child lay there, watching the stars that, one by one, stepped with such strange, noiseless grace out upon the clear, blue sky, soothed by the calminfluence that breathed through the beautiful twilight, she soon forgotherself and her surroundings, and was lost in the mazes of speculationand wonder. What were these bright spots that kept coming thickerand faster over her head, winking and blinking at her, as if with aconscious and friendly intelligence? Who made them? what were theydoing? where did they hide in the daytime? If she could climb up yondermountain, and then get to the top of those tall tulip-trees, she wassure she could reach them, or, at least, see better what they were. Werethey candles, that some unseen hand had lighted and thrust out there, that the night might not be wholly dark? That could not be, for then thewind, which was fanning the trees, would blow them out. How the littlemind longed to fathom the mystery! Once she had ventured to ask MissMatilda what those bright specks up in the sky were, and she answered, in an indifferent sort of way, "Stars, you little silly goose, --why, don't you know? They are stars. " And then she was just about as wise andas satisfied as she had been before. 

She was so busy with her thoughts, that she did not perceive MammyGrace, as she drew the old, broken-backed rocking-chair up to the door, and sitting down, with her elbows on her knees and her head upon herhands, leaned forward, to discover, if possible, what the child was sointently gazing at. She could discern no object in the deep twilight;but, struck herself with the still beauty of the scene, she exclaimed, --

"Pooty night, a'n't it? How de stars of heaben do shine!"

The voice disturbed Tidy in her reverie. Her first impulse was to getup and walk away, that she might finish out her thinking in some otherplace, where she could be alone. But the thought flashed through hermind, that perhaps the kind-looking old nurse at her side might be ableto tell her some of the many things she was so perplexed about; and, almost before she knew she was speaking, she blurted out, --

"What's them things up thar?"

"Dem bright little shiny tings, honey, in de firm'ment? Laws, don' yeknow? Whar's ye lived all yer days, if ye don' know de stars when yesees 'em?"

"Who owns 'em? and what they stuck up ther for?" asked the child, somewhat encouraged. 

"Who owns 'em? Hi! dey's de property ob de Lord ob heaben, chile, Ireckons; and dey's put dar to gib us light o'nights. Jest see 'em shine!and what a sight of 'em dar is, too; nobody can't count 'em noway. Andde Lord he hold 'em all in de holler ob his hand, " said the old negress, shaping her great black palm to suit the idea; "and he knows 'em allby name, too. Specs 'tis wonderful; but ebery one ob dem leetle, teentytings has got a name, and de great Lord he 'members 'em ebery one. "

Tidy's wonder was not at all diminished by what she heard; and thequestions she wanted to ask came up so fast in her mind, she hardlyknew which to utter first. What they were made out of, how they came andwent, what they meant by twinkling so, were things she had long desiredto know; but for the moment these were forgotten in the burning, eagercuriosity she had, now that she had heard the name of their Maker, toknow more of him, and where he was to be found. Half rising fromher former position, and looking earnestly in the face of her humbleinstructor, which was beaming with her own admiration of the gloriousworks and power of the Lord, she exclaimed vehemently, --

"That Lord, --who's him? I's never heerd of him afore. "

"Laws, honey, don' ye know? He's de great Lord of heaben and earf, datmade you and me and ebery body else. He made all de tings ye sees, --detrees, de green grass, de birds, de pigs, --dere's noffin dat he didn'tmake. Oh, he's de mighty Lord, I tells ye, chile! Didn't ye neber hear'bout him afore?"

Tidy shook her head; she could hardly speak. 

"Tell me some more, " she said at last. 

"Well, chile, dis great Lord he lib up in de heaben of heabens, way upober dat blue sky, and he sits all de time on a great trone, and he seesebery ting dat goes on down har in dis yer world. Ef ye does any tingbad, he puts it down in a great book he's got, and byme-by he'll punishde wicked folks right orful. "

"Whip?" questioned Tidy. 

"Whip! no; burn in de hot fire and brimstone for eber and for eber. 'Tisorful to be wicked, and hab de great Lord punish. "

"I ha'n't done noffin, " cried out Tidy, fairly trembling with terror. 

"Laws, no, --course not, chile; ye's noffin but a chile, ye know; butsome folks does orful tings. But ye needn't be afeard, honey; he'sa good Lord, and lubs us all; and ef ye tries to be good, and 'beysmissus, and neber lies, nor steals, nor swars, he'll be a good friend toye. He'll make de sun to shine on yer, and de rain to fall; and when yedies, he'll take yer right up dar, to lib wid him allus. There now, jesthark, --dat's old Si comin' up de lane. Don' ye h'ar him singin'? He lubsde Lord, he does, and he's allus a-singin'. Hark, now! a'n't it pooty?Guess de pone's done by dis time;" and she shuffled to the fireplace, tolook after her cake. 

Tidy, almost overwhelmed with the weight of knowledge that had beenpoured in upon her inquiring spirit, and hardly knowing whether whatshe had heard should make her glad or sorry, leaned back against thedoor-post, and carelessly listened to the voice, as it came nearer andnearer. In a minute the words fell with pleasing distinctness upon theear. 

 "Dear sister, didn't you promise me To help me shout and praise him? Den come and jine your voice to mine, And sing his lub amazin'. I tink I hear de trumpet sound, About de break of day; Good Lord, we'll rise in de mornin', And fly, and fly away, On de mornin's wings, to Canaan's land, To heaben, our happy home, Bright angels shall convey our souls To de new Jerusalem. "

"Hallelujah, amen, bress de Lord. How is ye dis night, Mammy Grace?"said a cheerful voice at the cabin-door. 

"Ho! go 'long, Simon, --I knowed ye was comin'. Ye allus blows yertrumpet 'fore yer gits here. Come in, help yerse'f to a cha'r. Here, chile, " addressing Tidy, "here's yer supper, --eat it now; and don' yeneber let what I's telled ye slip out of yer 'membrance. "

Which Tidy was not at all likely to do. She picked up the bread whichwas thrown to her, and, munching it as she went along, walked away tothe pump to get a drink of water. 

Children, when you rise in the morning and come down stairs to thecheerful breakfast, or when you are called at noon and night, to jointhe family circle again around a neatly-spread table, did you ever thinkwhat a refining influence this single custom has upon your life? Thesavage eats his meanly-prepared food from the vessel in which it iscooked, each member of his household dipping with his fingers, or somerude utensil, into the one dish. He is scarcely raised above the cattlethat eat their fodder at the crib, or the dog that gnaws the bone thrownto him upon the ground. And are the slaves any better off? They areneither allowed time, convenience, or inducements to enjoy a practice, which is so common with us, that we fail to number it among ourprivileges, or to recognize its elevating tendency; and yet they arestigmatized as a debased and brutish class. Can we expect them to beotherwise? Who is accountable for this degradation? By what system havethey become so reduced? and have any suitable efforts ever been made fortheir elevation?

Since I wrote this chapter, I have learned some things with regard tothe freed men at Port Royal, where so many fugitive slaves have takenrefuge during the war, and are now employed by Government, and beingeducated by Christian teachers, which will make what I have just saidmore apparent. Dr. French, who has labored among this people, in apublic address, drew a pleasing picture of the improvements introducedinto the home-life of the negroes, --how, as they began to feel free, andearn an independent subsistence, their cabins were whitewashed, sweptclean, kept in order, and pictures and maps, cut from illustratednewspapers, were pasted up on the walls by the women as a decoration. He spoke of the rivalry in neatness thus produced, and of the generalelevating and refining effect. On his representation, the commandingofficers and the society by whom he is employed permitted him tointroduce into some twenty-five of the cabins, on twenty-five differentplantations, what had never been known before, --a window with panes ofglass. To this luxury were added tables, good, strong, tin wash-basins, and soap, stout bed-ticks, and a small looking-glass. The effect of thefather of the family, sitting at the head of his new table, while hissable wife and children gathered around it, and asking a blessing on thesimple fare, was very touching. Hitherto they had boiled their hominy ina common skillet, and eaten it out of oyster-shells, when and whereverthey could, some in-doors and some outside, in every variety ofattitude. He said, also, that the ludicrous pranks of both old andyoung, on eying themselves for the first time in the mirror, were quiteamusing. 

CHAPTER VII. FRANCES. 

QUITE a number of children were gathered in the vicinity of the pump, performing their usual antics, under the direction and leadership ofa girl larger and older than the rest, --a genuine, coal-black, woolly-headed, thick-lipped young negro. This was the daughter of Venus, the cook, and her appointment of service was the kitchen. Full of fun, and nimble as an eel in every joint, her various pranks and feats ofskill were perfectly amazing, and were received with boisterous applauseby the rest of the group. 

As she saw Tidy advancing, however, she ceased her evolutions, and, turning to the others with a comic grimace, she bade them hold off, while she held discourse with the new-comer. 

"Her comes yer white nigger, " she said, in a loud whisper, "and I'sboun' to gaffer de las' news;" and putting on a demure face, sheaccosted the neatly-appareled child. 

"Specs ye're a stranger in dese yer parts. What's yer name?"

"Tidy;--what's yourn?" was the ready response. 

"Dey calls me France. Dey don't stop to place fandangles on to nameshere. Specs dey'll call YOU Ti. "

"I doesn't care; I's willin', " replied Tidy, good-naturedly. 

"What's de matter wid yer? Been sick?" proceeded France, with a roguishtwinkle of the eye. "Specs you's had measles or 'sumption, --yer's paleas deaf; and yer hair, --laws, sakes, it'll a'most stan' alone! de kind'sall done gone out of it. "

"Never had much, " said Tidy, laughing. "It's most straight, see;" andshe pulled one of the short ringlets out with her fingers. "And I isn'tsick, neither; 'tis my 'plexion. "

"'Plexion!" repeated Frances, with a tone of derision; "'tis white folkshas 'plexion; niggers don't hab none. Don't grow white skins in dese yerparts. "

"White's as good as black, I s'pose, a'n't it?" answered Tidy, divertedby the droll manners of her new acquaintance. "I don't see no oddsnohow. "

"'Ta'n't 'spectable, dat's all. Brack's de fashion here on dis yerplantation. 'Tis tough, b'ars whippin's and hard knocks. Whew! Hi! Ke!Missus'll cut ye all up to slivers fust time. "

"Does missus whip?"

"Reckon she does jest dat ting. Reckons you'll feel it right smart 'foreyou're much older. Hi! she whips like a driver, --cuts de skin all offde knuckles in little less dan no time at all. Yer'll see; make yer curlall up. "

It was not a very pleasant prospect for Tidy, to be sure; but, moreamused than frightened, she went on with her inquiries. 

"What does she whip ye for?"

"Laws, sake, for noffin at all; jest when she takes a notion; jest forex'cise, like. Owes me one, now, " said the girl. "I breaked de pitcherdis mornin', and, ho, ho, ho! how missus flied! I runned and 'scapedher, though. "

"She'll catch ye some time. "

"No, she don't, not for dat score. Specs I'll dodge till she's gotsuffin' else to tink about. Dat's de way dis chile fix it. Shouldn't habno skin leff, ef I didn't. Laws, now, ye ought to seen toder day, whenI's done stept on missus' toe. Didn't do it a purpose, sartain true, efye do laugh, " said she, shaking her head at the tittering tribe at herheels. "Dat are leetle Luce pushed, and missus jest had her hand up togib Luce an old-fashioned crack on the head wid dat big brack key ofhern. Hi! didn't she fly roun', and forgot all 'bout Luce, a tryin' tohit dis nig--and dis nig scooted and runned, and when missus' handcome down wid de big key, thar warn't no nigger's head at all thar--andmissus was gwine to lay it on so drefful hard, dat she falled oberhersef right down into de kitchen, and by de time she picked hersef up, bof de nigs war done gone. Ho, ho, ho! I tells ye she was mad enough tereat 'em. 'Pears as ef sparks comed right out of dem brack eyes. "

The girl's loud voice, as she grew animated in telling her exploits, andthe boisterous glee of her hearers, might have drawn the mistress withwhip in hand from the house, to inflict with double severity the evadedpunishment of the morning, but for the timely interference of Venus, who, with her clean white apron and turbaned head, majestically emergedfrom the kitchen, warning the young rebel and her associates to clearthe premises. 

"Along wid yer, and keep yer tongue tween yer teeth, chile, or you'llcotch it. "

So Frances, drawing Tidy along with her, and followed by the wholetroop, turned into the lane that led down to the negro quarters, and asthey saunter along, I will tell you about her. 

She was a fair specimen of slave children, full of the merry humor, thelove of fun and frolic peculiar to her race, with not a little admixtureof art and cunning. She was wild, rough, and boisterous, one of the sortalways getting into disgrace. She couldn't step without stumbling, norhold anything in her hand without spilling. She never had on a wholefrock, except when it was new, and her bare feet were seldom withouta bandage. She considered herself one of the most unfortunate ofcreatures, because she met with so many accidents, and had, inconsequence, to suffer so much punishment; and it was of no use to tryto do differently, she declared, for she "couldn't help it, nohow. "

I have seen just such children who were not slaves, haven't you? And Ithink I understand the cause of their misfortunes. Shall I give you aninkling of it? It is because they are so heedless and headlong in theirways, racing and romping about with perfect recklessness. Don't youthink now that I am right, little reader, you who cried this very day, because you were always getting into trouble, and getting scolded andpunished for it? You who are always tearing your frock and soiling yournice white apron, spilling ink on your copy-book, and misplacing yourgeography, forgetting your pencil and losing your sponge, and so gettingreproof upon reproof until you are heart-sick and discouraged? I knowwhat Jessie Smith's father told HER the other day. "You wouldn't meetwith so many mishaps, Jessie, if you didn't RUSH so. " Jessie tried, after that, to move round more gently and carefully, and I think she goton better. 

Frances was just one of these "rushing" children, but she wasgood-natured, and Tidy was quite fascinated with her. It was so new tohave an associate of her own age too; and so it came to pass that almostimmediately they were fast friends. Now, as they strolled along in thestarlight, under the great spreading pines which stood as sentinelshere and there along their path, Tidy drank in eagerly all her companionsaid, and in a little while had gathered all the interesting points ofinformation concerning the place and the people. Frances told her howhard and mean the master and mistress were, and how poorly the slavesfared down at the quarters. Up at the house they made out very well, shesaid; but not half so well as she and her mother did when they lived outeast on Mr. Blackstone's plantation. Then she described the busy summerseason, when hundreds of people came there to board and drink the waterof the springs. Mr. Lee had built two long rows of little brick houses, she said, down by the springs, where the people lived while they werehere, and there was a great dining cabin with long tables and seats, and a barbecue hall, where they had barbecues, and then danced all nightlong, and had gay times. And there was plenty of money going at suchtimes, for the people had quantities of money and gave it to the slaves. 

The negro quarters consisted of six log cabins, which had once beenwhitewashed, but now were extremely wretched in appearance, both withoutand within. It is customary on the plantations of the South to have thehouses of the negroes a little removed, perhaps a quarter of a mile, from the family mansion. Thus, with the exception of the house servants, who must be within call, the slave portion of the family live bythemselves, and generally in a most uncivilized and miserable way. Insome cases their houses are quite neatly built and kept; but it was notso on Mr. Lee's estate. 

In front of these old huts was a spring, the water bubbling up andrunning through a dilapidated, moss-covered spout, into a tub half sunkin the earth, which in the daytime served as a drinking trough for theanimals, and a bathing-pool for the babies. Brushwood and logs werelying around in all directions, and here and there a fire was burning, at which the negroes were cooking their supper. Dogs and a few straybabies were roaming about, seeming lonely for want of the pigs andchickens which kept company with them all day, but had now gone to rest. Boys and girls of larger growth were rollicking and careering over theplace, dancing and singing and entertaining themselves and the wholesettlement with their jollities and noise. 

Is it surprising, we must stop to ask, that the colored people are adegraded class, when we consider the way in which the children live fromtheir very infancy. No work for them to do, nothing to learn, nobody tocare for them, --they are just left to grow and fatten like swine, tillthey are in condition to be sold or to be broken in to their tasks inthe field. Utterly neglected, they contract, of necessity, lazy andvicious habits, and it is no wonder they have to be whipped and brokenin to work as animals to the yoke or harness; and no wonder that undersuch treatment for successive generations, the race should become soreduced in mental and moral ability, as to be thought by many incapableof ever reclaiming a position among the enlightened nations of theearth. Oh, what a weight of guilt have the people of our countryincurred in allowing four millions of those poor people to be so troddendown in the very midst of us!

When the children reached home again they found Mammy Grace's cabinquite full of men and women, shouting, singing, and talking in a wayquite unintelligible to our little stranger. After she had dropped uponher cot for the night, she lifted her head and ventured to ask whatthose people had been about. 

"Don' ye know, chile? We's had a praisin'-meetin'. We has 'em eberyweek, one week it's here, and one week it's ober to General Doolittle's, ober de hill yonder. Ef ye's a good chile, honey, ye shall go wid yerold mammy some time, ye shall. "

"What do you do?" asked Tidy. 

"We praises, chile, --praises de Lord, and den we prays too. "

"What's that?"

"Laws, chile, ye don't know noffin. Whar's ye been fotched up all yerdays? Why, when we wants any ting we can't git oursef, nohow, we ask deLord to gib it to us--dat's what it is. "

That first day and evening in Tidy's new home was a memorable day in herexperience. It seemed as if she had been lifted up two or three degreesin existence, so much had she heard and learned. She had enough tothink about as she lay down to rest, for the first time away from MissMatilda's sheltering presence. 

CHAPTER VIII. PRAYER. 

As Tidy grew in stature she grew in favor also with those around her. Spry but gentle in her movements, obedient, obliging, and apt to learn, she secured the good-will of her master and mistress, and the visitorsthat thronged to the place. If any little service was to be performedwhich required more than usual care or expedition, she was the one to becalled upon to do it. It was no easy task to please a person so fretfuland impatient in spirit as Mrs. Lee, yet Tidy, by her promptness anddocility, succeeded admirably. Still, with all her well-doing she wasnot able entirely to avoid her harshness and cruelty. 

One day, when she had been several months in Mrs. Lee's family, she wasset to find a ball of yarn which had become detached from her mistress'sknitting-work. Diligently she hunted for it every-where, --in MammyGrace's cabin, on the veranda, in the drawing-room, dining-room, andkitchen, up-stairs, down-stairs, and in the lady's chamber, but no ballwas to be found. The mistress grew impatient, and the child searchedagain. The mistress became unreasonable and threatened, and the childreally began to tremble for fear of undeserved chastisement. What couldshe do?

What do you think she did? I will tell you?

Ever since that first night with Mammy Grace, when Tidy had asked herwhat it was to pray, and had been told, "When we wants any ting we can'tgit oursefs, nohow, we asks de Lord to gib it to us, " these wordshad been treasured in her memory; but as yet she had never had anopportunity to put them to a practical use; for up to this time shehad not really wanted any thing. Her necessities were all supplied evenbetter than she had reason to expect; for in addition to the plain butsufficient fare that was allowed her in the cabin, she was never a daywithout luxuries from the table of the family. Fruits, tarts, and manya choice bit of cake, found their way through the children's hands totheir little favorite, so that she had nothing to wish for in the eatingline. Her services with the children were so much in accordance with hertaste as to be almost pastime, and the old nurse was as kind and good asa mother could be. Never until this day had she been brought into areal strait; and it was in this emergency that she thought to put MammyGrace's suggestion to the test. She had attended the weekly prayer or"praisin'-meetin's" as they were called, and observed that when themen and women prayed, they seemed to talk in a familiar way with thisinvisible Lord; and she determined to do the same. As she went out forthe third time from the presence of her mistress, downcast and unhappy, she thought that if she only had such eyes as the Lord had, which MammyGrace repeatedly told her were in every place, considering every littlething in the earth, she would know just where to go to find the missingball. At that thought something seemed to whisper, "Pray. "

She darted out of the door, ran across the yard, making her way asspeedily as possible to the only retired spot she knew of. This wasa deep gully at the back of the house, through which a tiny stream ofwater crept, just moistening the roots of the wild cherry and alderbushes which grew there in great abundance, and keeping the grass freshand green all the summer long. No one ever came to this spot exceptingnow and then the laundress with a piece of linen to bleach, or thechildren to play hide-and-seek of a moonlight evening. Here she fellupon her knees, and lifting up her hands as she had seen others do, shesaid, --

"Blessed Lord, I want to find missus' ball of yarn, and I can't. Youknow whar 'tis. Show me, so I sha'n't get cracks over my head with thebig key. Hallelujah, amen. "

She didn't know, innocent child, what this "Hallelujah, amen, " meant;but she remembered that Uncle Simon always ended in that way, andshe supposed it had something important to do with the prayer. So sheuttered it with a feeling of great satisfaction, as though that cappedthe climax of her duty, and put the seal of acceptance on her petition;and then she got up and walked away, as sure as could be that the ballwould be forthcoming. I dare say she expected to see it rolling outbefore her from some unthought-of corner as she went along. 

Do not laugh at the poor little slave girl, children, or ridicule theidea of her taking such a small thing to the Lord. If you, and olderpeople too, were in the habit of carrying all your little troubles tothe throne of grace, I am sure you would find help that you little dreamof. If the Lord in his greatness regards the little sparrows, so thatnot one of them shall fall to the ground without his notice, and if henumbers the hairs of our heads, surely there is nothing that can giveus uneasiness of mind or sorrow of heart too small to commend to hisnotice. I wish we might all follow Tidy's example, and I have no doubtthat our heavenly Father, who is quite willing to have his words and hislove tested, would answer us as he did her. 

She went directly to the house, carefully looking this way and that, as if expecting, as I said, that the ball would suddenly appear beforeher, --of course it did not, --and passing across the veranda, entered thehall. A great, old-fashioned, eight-day clock, like the pendulum thathung in the farmer's kitchen so long, and got tired of ticking, Iimagine, stood in one corner. Just at the foot of this, Tidy saw a whitestring protruding. She forgot for the moment what she was hunting after, and stooped to pick up the string. She pulled at it, but it seemed tocatch in something and slipped through her fingers. She pulled again, when lo and behold! out came the ball of yarn. Didn't her eyes sparkle?Didn't her hands twitch with excitement, as she picked it up and carriedit to her mistress? So much for praying, said she to herself; I shallknow what to do the next time I get into trouble. 

The next time the affair proved a more serious one. It was no less thana search for Frances, who had again been guilty of some misdemeanor, andhad hidden herself away to escape punishment. On the second day of herabsence, Mrs. Lee called Tidy, and instructed her to search for thegirl, with the assurance that if she didn't find her, she herself shouldget the whipping. It was no very pleasant prospect for Tidy, but sheset to her task earnestly. A half-day she spent going over thepremises, --the house, the out-buildings, the quarters, and thepine-woods opposite; but the girl was not to be found. 

Afraid to come and report her want of success, for a while she was quitein despair; until again she bethought herself of prayer, and out she ranto the gully. There she cried, --

"Lord, I's very anxious to find France. I'll thank you to show me wharshe is, and make missus merciful, so she sha'n't lash neither one ofus. Oh, if I could only find France. Blessed Lord, you can help me findher"----

She was pleading very earnestly when a voice suddenly interrupted her, and there, at her side, stood the girl. 

"Who's dat ar you's conbersin wid 'bout me, little goose?" askedFrances. 

"Oh, France, " cried Tidy in delight, "whar was you? Missus set melookin' for yer, and she said she'd whip all the skin off me, if Ididn't find yer. Whar's you been?"

"Laws, you nummy, ye don't specs now I's gwine to let all dis yerplantation know dat secret. Ho, ho, ho! If I telled, I couldn't go dar'gin no way. I's comed here for my dinner, caus specs dis chile can'tstarve nohow. See, my mudder knows whar to put de bones for dis yerchile, " and pushing aside the bushes, she displayed an ample supply ofeatables, which she fell to devouring greedily. Tidy had to reason longand stoutly with the refractory girl before she could persuade her toreturn to the house; and when she accomplished her purpose, she wasprobably not aware of the real motive that wrought in that dark, stupidnegro mind. It was not the fear of an increased punishment, if sheremained longer absent, --it was not the faint hope that Tidy heldup, that if she humbly asked her mistress's pardon, she might beforgiven, --but the thought that if she did not at once return, Tidy mustsuffer in her stead, was too much for her. She was, notwithstanding herblack skin and rude nature, too generous to allow that. 

So the two wended their way to the kitchen in great trepidation, andTidy, stepping round to the sitting-room, timidly informed her mistressof the arrival, adding in most beseeching manner, "Please, Missus, don'twhip her, 'caus she's so sorry. "

"You mind your own business, little sauce-box, or you'll catch it too. When I want your advice, I'll come for it, " and seizing her whip whichshe kept on a shelf close by, she proceeded to the kitchen. Miss Matildafollowed, determined to see that justice was done to one at least. 

The poor frightened girl fell on her knees. 

"Oh, Missus, " she cried, "dear Missus, do 'scuse me. I'll neber do datting over 'gin! I'll neber run away 'gin! I'll neber do noffin! Oh, Missus, please don't, oh, dear, "--as notwithstanding the appeal, theangry blow fell. Before another could descend, Miss Matilda laid herhand upon her sister's arm. 

"Excuse the girl, Susan, " she said, gently, "excuse her just this once, and give her a trial. See if she won't do better. "

It was very hard, for it was contrary to her nature, for Mrs. Lee toshow mercy. However, she did yield, and after a very severe reprimand tothe culprit, and a very unreasonable, angry speech to Tidy, who, toto [sic] her thinking, had become implicated in Frances' guilt, shedismissed them both from her presence, --the one chuckling over herfortunate escape, and the other querying in her mind, whether or nothis unhoped-for mercy was another answer to prayer. Miss Matilda madea remark as they retired, which Tidy heard, whether it was designed forher ear or not. 

"I always have designed to give that child her liberty when she is oldenough; and if any thing prevents my doing so, I hope she will take itherself. "

Take her liberty! What did that mean? Tidy laid up the saying, andpondered it in her heart. 

Does any one of our little readers ask why Miss Matilda did not freethe child then? Tidy's services paid her owner's board at her brother'shouse, and she couldn't afford to give away her very subsistence; COULDSHE?

CHAPTER IX. THE FIRST LESSON. 

THE walk to school was a very delightful one, and as the trio trudgedover the road from day to day, chattering like magpies, laughing, singing, shouting, and dancing in the exuberance of childish glee, all seemed equally light-hearted and joyous. Even the little slave whocarried the books which she was unable to read, and the basket ofdinner of which she could not by right partake, with a keen eye forthe beautiful, and a sensitive heart to appreciate nature, could notapparently have been more happy, if her condition had been reversed, andshe had been made the served instead of the servant. 

The way for half a mile lay through a dense pine-wood, --the tall treesrising like stately pillars in some vast temple filled with balsamicincense, and floored with a clean, elastic fabric, smooth as polishedmarble, over which the little feet lightly and gayly tripped. In thecentral depths where the sun's rays never penetrated, and the fallenleaves lay so thickly on the ground, no flowers could grow, but on theouter edges spring lavished her treasures. The trailing arbutus addednew fragrance to the perfumed air, frail anemones trembled in thewind, and violets flourished in the shade. The blood-root lifted itslily-white blossoms to the light, and the cream-tinted, fragile bells ofthe uvularia nestled by its side. Passing the wood and its embroideredflowery border, a brook ran across the road. The rippling waters werealmost hidden by the bushes which grew upon its banks, where the wildhoneysuckle and touch-me-not, laurels and eglantine, mingled theirbeautiful blossoms, and wooed the bee and humming-bird to theirgay bowers. Over this stream a narrow bridge led directly to theschool-house; but the homeward side was so attractive, that the childrenalways tarried there until they saw the teacher on the step, or heardthe little bell tinkling from the door. Tidy remained with them tillthe last minute, and there her bright face might invariably be seen whenschool was dismissed in the afternoon. A large flat rock between thewoods and the flowery edges of Pine Run was the place of rendezvous. 

One summer's morning they were earlier than usual, and emerging from thewoods, warm and weary with their long walk, they threw themselves downupon the rock over which in the early day, the shadows of the treesrefreshingly fell. Amelia turned her face toward the Run, and lulled bythe gentle murmuring of the water, and the humming of the insects, was soon quietly asleep; Susie, with an apron full of burs, was makingfurniture for the play-house which they were arranging in a cleft ofthe rock; and Tidy, who carried the books, was busily turning over theleaves and amusing herself with the pictures. 

"My sakes!" she exclaimed presently, "what a funny cretur! See thatgreat lump on his back!" and she pointed with her finger to the pictureof a camel. "Miss Susie! what IS that? Is it a lame horse?"

"Why no, Tidy, that's a camel; 'tisn't a horse at all. I was readingthat very place yesterday, --let me see, " and taking the book she readvery intelligently a brief account of the wonderful animal. 

"How queer!" said Tidy, deeply interested. "And is there something inthis book about all the pictures?"

"Yes, " answered Susie, "if you could only read now, you would know aboutevery one. See here, on the next page is an elephant; see his greattusks and his monstrous long trunk, " and the child read to her attentivelistener of another of the wonders of creation. 

[illustration omitted]

"How I wish I could read, --why can't I?" asked Tidy; and the littlecolored face was turned up full of animation. "I don't b'lieve but Icould learn as well as you. "

"Why of course you could, " answered Amelia, who had risen quiterefreshed by her short nap. "I don't see why not. You can't go to schoolyou know, because mother wants you to work; but I could teach you justas well as not. "

"Oh, could you? will you?--do begin!" cried the eager child. "Oh, MissMely, if you only would, I'd do any thing for you. "

"Look here, " said Amelia, seizing the book from her sister's hands, andby virtue of superior age, constituting herself the teacher; "do yousee those lines?" and she pointed to the columns of letters on the firstpage. 

"Yes, " said the ready pupil, all attention. 

"Well, those are letters, --the alphabet, they call it. Every one of themhas got a name, and when you have learned to know them all perfectly, sothat you can call them all right wherever you see 'em, why, then you canread any thing. "

"Any thing?" asked Tidy in amazement. 

"Yes, any thing, --all kinds of books and papers and the Bible and everything. "

"I can learn THEM, I's sure I can, " said Tidy. "Le's begin now. "

"Well, you see that first one, --that's A. You see how it's made, --twolines go right up to a point, and then a straight one across. Now say, what is it?"

"A. "

"Yes; and now the next one, --that's B. There's a straight line down andtwo curves on the front. What's that?"

"B. "

"Now you must remember those two, --I sha'n't tell you any more thismorning, and I shall make you do just as Miss Agnes used to make me. Miss Agnes was our governess at home before we came here to school. Shemade me take a newspaper, --see, here's a piece, --and prick the letterson it with a pin. Now you take this piece of paper, and prick every Aand every B that you can find on it, and to-morrow I'll show you somemore. "

Just then the bell sounded from the schoolhouse, and Amelia and Susanwent to their duties, but not with half so glad a heart as Tidy setherself to hers. Down she squatted on the rock, and did not leavethe place till her first task was successfully accomplished, and theprecious piece of perforated paper safely stowed away for Amelia'sinspection. 

Day after day this process was repeated, until all the letters great andsmall had been learned; and now for the more difficult work of puttingthem together. There seemed to be but one step between Tidy and perfecthappiness. If she could only have a hymn-book and know how to read it, she would ask nothing more. She didn't care so much about the Bible. Ifshe had known, as you do, children, that it is God's word, no doubt shewould have been anxious to learn what it contained. But this truth shehad never heard, and therefore all her desires were centered in thehymn-book, in which were stored so many of those precious and beautifulhymns which she loved so much to hear Uncle Simon repeat and sing. Wouldshe ever be so happy as to be able to sing them from her own book?

CHAPTER X. LONY'S PETITION. 

BUT, ah! this is a world of disappointment, and it almost always happensthat if we attain any real good, we have to toil for it. Tidy's path wasnot to continue as smooth and pleasant as it had been. 

Mr. And Mrs. Lee, by some untoward accident, found out what was goingon, and at once expounded the law and the necessities of the case totheir children, forbidding them in the most peremptory manner, and onpenalty of the severest chastisement, ever to attempt again to give Tidyor any other slave a lesson. What the punishment was with which theywere threatened she never knew, for the little girls never dared even tospeak upon the subject; but she knew it must be something very dreadful, and though this was a most cruel blow to her expectations, she lovedthem too well to bring them into the slightest danger on her ownaccount. So she never afterwards alluded to the subject. 

Her first impulse was to give up all for lost, and to sit down andweep despairingly over her disappointment; but she was of too hopeful adisposition to do so. 

"I knows the letters, " said she to herself, "and I specs I can learnmyself. I can SCRAMBLE ALONG, some way. "

Scrambling indeed! I wonder if any of you, little folks, would bewilling to undertake it. 

In her trouble she did not forget the strong hold to which she hadlearned to resort in trouble. She PRAYED about it every day, morning, noon, and night. Indeed the words "Lord, help me learn to read, " wereseldom out of her heart. Even when she did not dare to utter them withher lips, they were mentally ejaculated. Hers was indeed an unceasingprayer. 

"Come chile, " said Mammy Grace, one evening in the cool, frosty autumn, as Tidy was hovering over the embers, eating her corn-bread, "put on deole shawl, and we'll tote ober de hills to Massa Bertram's. De meetin'sdare dis yer night, and Si's gwine to go. Come, honey, 'tis chill disebening, and de walk'll put the warmf right smart inter ye;" and theystarted off at a quick pace, over the hills, through the woods, downthe lanes, and across little brooks, the pale, cold moonlight streamingacross their path, and the warm sunlight of divine peace and favorenlivening their hearts as they went on, making nothing at all of a walkof three miles to sing and pray in company with Christian friends. WouldWE take as much pains to attend a prayer-meeting?

It was not the customary place of meeting, and the people for the mostpart were strangers. One party had come by special invitation, to see anew PIECE OF PROPERTY which had just arrived upon the place, --a piece ofproperty that thought, and felt, and moved, and walked, like a thingof life; that loved and feared the Lord, and sung and prayed like anyChristian. What wonderful qualities slaveholders' chattels possess!

The woman, whose name was Apollonia, familiarly called Lony, was a tall, gaunt, square-built negress, with a skin so black and shining, and herlimbs so rigid, that she might almost have been mistaken for oneof those massive statues we sometimes see carved out of the solidanthracite. A bright yellow turban on her head rose in shape like anEgyptian pyramid, adding to her extraordinary hight, and strangelycontrasting with her black, thick, African features. Altogether herappearance would have been formidable and repelling, but for a lookin her eye like the clear shining after rain, and a tranquil, peacefulexpression which had over-spread her hard visage. Tidy was overawedand fascinated by the gigantic figure, and when, after a few minutesof sacred silence, the new comer, who seemed accepted as the presidingspirit of the occasion, commenced singing, she was more than usuallyinterested and attentive. The words were not familiar to the company, sothat none could join, and the deep monotone of the woman, at firstlow, and by degrees becoming louder and more animated, made every worddistinct and impressive. 

 "I was but a youth when first I was called on, To think of my soul and the state I was in; I saw myself standing from God a great distance, And betwixt me and him was a mountain of Sin. 

 "Old Satan declared that I had been converted, Old Satan persuaded me I was too young; And before my days ended that I would grow tired, And I'd wish that I'd never so early begun. "

"But, praise de Lord, " exclaimed the woman, stopping short in her hymn, and rising suddenly to her feet, "I habn't growed tired yet, and I'sbeen walkin in de ways of goodness forty years and more. De Lord, he isgood, --I knows he is, for I's tried him and found him out, and I's nebertired o' praisin him. Bress de Lord! He's new to me ebery mornin, andfresh as de coolin waters ebery ebening. Praise de Lord! Hallelujah!When I was a chile, I use to make massa's boys mad so's to hear 'emswar. It pleased dis wicked cretur to hear de fierce swarrin'. One day Iwent to de garden behind de house to git de water-melons for dinner, andI heerd a voice. 'Pears 'twas like a leetle, soft voice, but I couldn'tsee nobody nowhar dat spoke, and it said, 'Lony, Lony, don't yer makedem boys swar no more, ef ye do, ye'll lose yer soul. ' I looked all rounand roun, for I was skeered a'most to deff, but I couldn't see nobody, and den I know'd 'twas a voice from heaben, for I'd heerd o' sich, andI says, 'No, Lord, no, I won't. ' I didn't know den what de SOUL was, or what a drefful ting 'twas to lose it; but I knowd it mus mean suffinorful. So I began to consider all de time 'bout de soul. Byme-by aBaptis' min'ster comed to de place, and massa and missus was converted. Den dey let us hab meetin's and de clersh'-man he comed and talked tous. I didn't comperhend much he said, 'caus I was young and foolish; buthe telled a good many times 'bout dat ef we want to save our souls wemus be babtize and git under de Lord's table. Says I to my own sef, 'Specs now ef poor Lony could only find de table of de bressed Lord, 'twould all be well, and she'd be pertected foreber. ' So I prayed andprayed, and one night de good Lord comed hissef, and bringd his great, splendid table, and all de fair angels dressed in white and gold andsettin roun it, and I got under, and I ate de crumbs dat fell down, andden 'pears I begun to live. Oh, 'twas sich a peace dat came all oberme, and I wanted to sing and shout all of de time. And dat's jess whar Ibeen eber sence, my friends, and I neber wants to come away till I dies;and den de good Lord'll take me up to de great heabenly mansion, andgib me de gold robes, and den I shall set up wid de rest and be like 'emall. And I's willin to wait, 'caus I lubs de Lord and praises him eberyday. He is de good Lord, and he lubs me and hearkens ebery time I speaksto him; and I ha'n't 'bleeged to holler loud, nuther, for he's neber faraway, but he keeps close by dis poor soul so he can hear ebery word andcry. And he'll hear all yer cries, my friends, when ye prays for yersefor for yer chillen, or yer bredren and sisters. Le's pray, now. "

Then kneeling down, this representative of a despised and untutoredrace, with a faith that triumphed gloriously over her abjectsurroundings, poured forth her supplications, talking with the Lord as aman talks with his friend, as it were face to face. 

"O bressed Lord, dat's in de heaben and de earf and ebery whar; you'sheerd all de tings dat we's asked for. And you knows all dat dese yerpoor chillen wants dat dey hasn't axed for; and if dere's any ob 'emhere, dat doesn't dare to speak out loud, and tell what dey does want, you can hear it jess as well, ef it is way down deep buried up in deheart; and oh, bressed Lord, do gib 'em de desires of de heart, 'lessit's suffin dat'll hurt 'em, and den Lord don't gib it to 'em at all. "

This was enough for our little Tidy. Her heart swelled, and the greattears ran down her cheeks, as she thought instantly of the one dear, cherished petition that she dared not utter, but which was uppermost inher heart continually; and as the woman pleaded with the Lord to hearand answer the desires of every soul present, she held that want of hersup before Him as a cup to be filled, and the Lord verily did fill itup to the brim. A quiet, restful feeling took the place of the burning, eager anxiety she had hitherto felt, and from that moment she was sure, yes, SURE that she would have her wish, and some day be able to read. Nothing had ever encouraged and strengthened her so much as the earnestwords and prayers of this Christian woman. How thankful she always feltthat she had been brought to the prayer-meeting at Massa Bertram's thatnight. 

CHAPTER XI. ROUGH PLACES. 

To obtain possession of the hymn-book she desired, was not so verydifficult in Tidy's estimation. The numerous visitors at the house, pleased with her bright face, her gentle manners, and ready attentions, often dropped a coin into her hand, and these little moneys werecarefully treasured for the accomplishment of her purpose. Shecalculated that by Christmas-time she should have enough money to buyit, and Uncle Simon she knew would procure it for her. Her greatestanxiety now was to be ready to use it. 

But how could she make herself ready? How was she to learn without ateacher or a book?

There had been an old primer for some time tossing about theplay-room--its scarlet cover looking more gorgeous and tempting inTidy's eyes, as they fell upon it day after day, than any trinket orgewgaw she could have seen; yet she dared not touch it. She was toohonest to appropriate it to herself without leave, and she was afraidto allude to the forbidden lessons by asking Amelia or Susan for it. Several times she tried to draw their attention to the neglected book, and to give them some hint of her own longing for it, --but all to noavail. One day, however, she had orders from the children to clear upthe room thoroughly. 

"Make every thing neat as a pin, " said Amelia, "while we go down todinner, for we are going to have company this afternoon; and if it looksright nice, I'll give you an orange. "

"What shall I do with dis yer book, then, Miss Mely?" hastily askedTidy, as she stooped to pick up the book, and felt herself trembling allover that she had dared to put her fingers upon it. 

"That? Oh, that's no good; throw it away, --we never use it now, --or keepit yourself, if you want to, " said she, after a second thought. 

It was done. The book was quickly deposited in a safe place, and theclearing up proceeded rapidly. The orange was a small consideration; forhad she not got a book, her heart's desire, and now she could learn toread. 

She could learn all alone; she would be her own teacher. If she got intoa very narrow place she would get Uncle Simon to help her out. No oneelse on the estate knew how to read, and he didn't know much, but nodoubt he could be of some assistance. Such was Tidy's inward plan. 

After this, the little girl might have been seen every evening stretchedat full length on the cabin floor, her head towards the fireplace, wherethe choicest pine knots were kindled into a cheerful blaze, with herspelling-book open before her. She was "clambering" up the rough way ofknowledge. 

Did she accomplish her purpose? To be sure she did. Little reader, didyou ever make up your mind to do any thing and fail? There's an oldproverb that says, "Where there's a will there's a way;" and this istrue. Resolution and energy, patience and perseverance, will achievenearly every thing you set about. Try it. Try it when you have hardlessons to do, puzzling examples in arithmetic to solve, that long stintin sewing to do, that distasteful music to practice, those bad habits toconquer. Try it faithfully, and when you grow up, you'll be able to say, from your own experience, "Where there's a will there's a way. "

You must not expect, however, that Tidy learned very rapidly or veryperfectly under such discouragements. Think how it would be withyourself, if you only knew your letters. You might read quite easilym-a-n, but how do you think you could find out that those lettersspelled man?

Tidy advanced much more expeditiously after she had obtained possessionof her hymn-book. Some of the hymns were quite familiar to her from herhaving heard them sung so often at the meetings, and she determined tostudy these first; and you may well imagine how proud she felt, --notsinfully, but innocently proud, --when she seated herself one afternoonby Mammy Grace's side, and pulling her hymn-book out of her bosom, askedif she might read a hymn. 

"Yes, chile, 'deed ye may, ef ye can. Specs 'twill do yer ole mammy'sheart good to hear ye read de books like de white folks. "

And the child opened the book, and in a clear, pleasant, happy voice sheread slowly, but correctly, --

 "My God, the spring of all my joys, The life of my delights, The glory of my brightest days, And comfort of my nights. 

 "In darkest shades if he appear, My dawning is begun; He is my soul's sweet morning star, And he my rising sun. "

"Look dar, chile, " cried the old nurse, springing to her feet, "MassaGeorge's jess a'most out ob de door. Ef he SHOULD fall and break hisneck, what WOULD 'come of us. Dis yer chile 'd neber hab no more peaceall de days of her life. Yer reads raal pooty, honey; but ye mus'n'tneglect duty for de books, 'caus ef ye do, ye isn't worthy of deprevelege. "

So Tidy had to forego her hymns till the children were put to bed. 

After this, in the long winter evenings, in Mammy Grace's snug cabin, what harvests of enjoyment were gathered from that precious book. UncleSimon was the favored guest on such occasions, and always "bringed hiswelcome wid hissef, " he said, in the shape of pitch-pine fagots, therichest to be found, by the light of which they read and sung the songsof Zion, which they dearly loved; the pious old slave in the meantime commending, congratulating, and encouraging Tidy in her wonderfulintellectual achievements. 

CHAPTER XII. A GREAT UNDERTAKING. 

PERSONS of will and energy generally have some distinct object beforethem which they are striving to reach, --something of importance tobe gained or done. As fast as one thing is attained, another planis projected; and so they go on, mounting up from one achievement toanother all through life. And this enterprising spirit begins to bedeveloped at a very early age in children. 

Tidy was one of these active little beings, full of business, neverunhappy for want of something to do; and besides the ordinary and moretrivial occupations of the outer life, her spirit or inner life had evera dear, cherished object before it, which engrossed her thoughts, taxed her capabilities, and raised her above the degraded level of hercompanions in servitude. 

Now that she had attained one grand point in learning to read, sheventured on another and far more difficult enterprise. What do you thinkit was? Why, nothing more or less than to GET HER LIBERTY. 

She had heard Miss Matilda say in the kitchen, "If I don't give thechild her liberty, I hope she will take it. " This was her warrant. Sheperceived, by Miss Matilda's words and manner, in the first place, thatliberty was desirable, and, in the second, that she COULD take it. But, ignorant child as she was, she little knew the difficulties that stoodin the way. 

She had now lived several years in Mr. Lee's family, and had grown wiserin many respects. She began to realize more fully what it was to be aslave, and what her probable prospects were, if she did not escape. Shelearned that there was a place, not a great way from her Virginian home, where people did not hold her race in bondage; where she could go andcome as she pleased, choose her own employers and occupation, be paidfor her labor, provide for herself, and perhaps some day have a home ofher own, with husband and children whom she could hold and enjoy. Do youthink it strange that such a condition seemed attractive, and that shewas willing to make great efforts and run fearful risks to reach it?

She kept her intentions profoundly secret. Even Mammy Grace and UncleSimon, her best friends, were not in her confidence. But she prayedabout it constantly, and sought information from every possible sourcewith regard to this free land, --where it was, and how it could bereached, --and at last formed her plan, which she determined to carry outduring the coming summer. 

She knew she must have money, if she was going to travel, and for along time she had been carefully saving up all she could command. Sheconstantly endeavored to make herself useful in various ways in order toget it. The summer-time was her money harvest; and this season she wasdelighted to find visitors thronging to the Springs in greater numbersthan she had ever seen before. She knew if there was plenty of company, there would be plenty of business, and consequently a plenty of money;for the class of people who came there were for the most part wealthy, and were quite willing to pay for the attentions they received. Thelittle brick houses in which they lodged were under the care of theslave girls. Each one had two of these cabins, as they were called, incharge, and were required to keep them in order, to wait upon the ladiesand children, and serve them at the table. Tidy was unwearied in herefforts to please. She answered promptly to every call, and kept herrooms in the neatest manner; and for her pains she received many abright coin, which was providently stored away in a little bag, andconcealed beneath her mattress. Perhaps these conscientious people wouldnot have bestowed money so freely on their favorite young maid, if theyhad known the purpose to which it was to be applied. For they say thatslavery is a Christian institution, a sort of missionary enterprise, which has been divinely appointed for the good of the colored race; andof course to get away from it is to run away from God and the privilegesand blessings he is so kind as to give. 

Tidy, however, thought differently, as the slaves generally do; and asshe had made up her mind that she should gain greater advantages ina state of freedom, she determined to persevere in her attempt. Heraccumulations finally became so large, that she thought she mightventure to start on her journey. 

She knew, too, that she must have clothes quite different from those sheusually wore. And how was she to get these? Ah, she had had an eye for along while to this. She and Amelia were not only of the same age, butof the same size. Tidy had grown in the last two years very rapidly, andhad now reached a womanly hight and figure. She had watched the growthof Amelia with the keenest interest. So far, it had corresponded withher own so exactly that she could easily wear the clothes made forher young mistress. In fact, Amelia often dressed Tidy up in her owngarments that she might get a better idea of how they looked uponherself. This season, Amelia, for the first time, had a traveling suitcomplete, for she was going a journey with her father; and when itwas finished, she was so pleased that she sent for Tidy at once toparticipate in her joy, and insisted that she should immediately put iton, that she might see how it fitted, and if every thing about it was asit should be. The dress was a dark green merino, made with a very longpelerine cape, which was the very pink of the fashion, and was theespecial admiration of all the children. Tidy arrayed herself in these, and, putting the little jaunty cap of the same color on her head, stoodbefore the glass and surveyed herself with as perfect satisfaction asthe owner of the becoming costume herself experienced. Indeed shecould hardly keep her eye from telling tales of the joy within, as sheinwardly said, "There's many a slip twixt the cup and the lip, and maybe, Miss Amelia, I shall go traveling in this before you do. " She feltthat nothing could have been provided more suitable or timely than thischarming suit. 

Are you shocked, little reader, that Tidy, the good, exemplary, conscientious Tidy, should have thought of appropriating Amelia'swardrobe to herself? I must stop a moment here to explain to you theslaves' code of morals. They are so ignorant that we must not expectthem to have so high or correct a standard of conduct as we have, or tobe able to make such nice distinctions in questions of right and wrong. 

Ever since Mammy Grace had made to her young pupil the first imperfectrevelation of God's character and government, declaring that he wouldpunish with eternal fire those who should lie, swear, or steal, the child had held these sins in the greatest abhorrence, and wasscrupulously careful to avoid them. She would not have taken from thebaby-house a trinket, or an article of food from the kitchen, withoutleave, on any account. At the same time, she had learned the slavetheory that as they are never paid for their labor, they have a rightto any thing which their labor has purchased, OF WHICH THEY HAVE NEED. Consequently if a slave is not provided with food sufficient for hiswants, he supplies himself. The pigs and chickens, vegetables andfruits, or any thing else which he can handily obtain, he helps himselfto, as though they were his own, and never burdens his consciencewith the sin of stealing. A slave, who had obtained his freedom, onceremarked in a public meeting, that when he was a boy, he was OBLIGEDto steal, or TAKE food, as he called it, in order to live, because solittle was provided for him. "But now, " said he, while his face shonewith a consciousness of honesty and honor, "I wouldn't take a cent'sworth from any man; no, not for my right hand. "

So, you see, that this principle of appropriating what the labor of herown hands had earned, when necessity demanded it, was that upon whichTidy was to act. She never needed to steal food, nor even luxuries, forshe always had enough; nor money, because, for her limited wants, shealways had enough of that. But now, when she was going a journey, andwanted to look especially nice, she felt very glad to have the dressprepared so fitting for the occasion; and she did not feel a singlemisgiving of conscience about taking it when she got ready to use it. Whether this was just right or not, I shall leave an open question foryou to decide in your own minds. It will bear thought and discussion, and will be quite a profitable subject for you to consider. 

When the preparations were all made, Mammy Grace and old Simon were letinto the secret. Whether they said any thing by way of discussion I donot know--at any rate, it did not alter Tidy's determination. I think, however, that she found her two aged friends very useful in aiding herlast movements; and when the eventful moment arrived, and Tidy, attiredin Miss Amelia's garments, with a traveling-bag in her hand, containingher hymn-book, her money, and a few needed articles, stood at the footof the walk that led into the public road, Mammy Grace stood with her inthe starlight of the early summer's morning, and bade her God-speed. 

"Ye looks like a lady for all de world, honey; I 'clare dese yer oldeyes neber would a thought 'twas you, in dis yer fine dress--hi, hi, hi!Specs nobody'll tink ye's run away. De old nuss hates to part wid herchile; but ef ye must go, ye must, and de bressed Lord go wid ye, andkeep ye safe. "

Then giving her a most affectionate hug, she put a paper of eatables inher hand, and helped her to mount the horse before Uncle Simon, who wasalready in the saddle. Where or how the old man procured the horse andequipments, HE knew--but nobody else did. 

The animal was a fast trotter, and brought them speedily five miles tothe village, where Tidy was to take the stage-coach to Baltimore. Itwas before railroads and steam-engines were much talked of in Virginia. Alighting in the outskirts of the town, Simon lifted the young girl tothe ground, and hastily commending her to "de bressed Lord of heaben andearf, " he bade her good-by, and went back to his bondage and toil. Theynever saw each other again. 

The day was fine, and riding a novel occupation for Tidy, but so fullwas her trembling heart of anxiety and fear that she could not enjoy it. She was afraid to look out of the window lest she might be recognized bysome one; and she dared not look at the two pleasant-faced gentlemen whowere in the coach with her, lest they might question her, and find outher true condition. So she cuddled back as closely as possible in thecorner, and when they kindly offered her cakes and fruit, she justventured to say, "No, thank you. " Her own food, which the dear old nursehad taken so much pains to put up for her, lay untouched in her lap, forher heart was so absorbed she could not eat. 

Night brought her to the hotel in Baltimore. The great city, the largebuilding, and busy servants running hither and thither quite bewilderedher, and she had to watch herself very closely lest she should betrayherself. The waiters looked at her rather suspiciously; but she behavedwith all propriety, called for her room and supper, paid for what shehad, and in the morning was ready to take her seat in the northernstage, and no one ventured to molest or question her. How her heartleaped when she found herself safely on her way to Philadelphia. Oneday more, and she would be in a free city. What she should do when shearrived there, how she was to support herself in future, did not troubleher. That she might stand on free soil, and lift up her eyes to thestars that shone on her liberated body was all she thought of; andto-night this was to be. With every step of the plodding horses, shegrew bolder and more assured, and her faith and hope and joyousnessrose. But, alas! there was a lion in the way of which she had notdreamed. 

"Your pass!" shouted a grim-looking man, as she stepped, bag in hand, with gentle dignity on the boat that was to take her across the streamwhich divided slave territory from our free States. "Where's your pass?Don't stand there staring at me, " said the official, as the frightenedgirl looked up as if for an explanation. 

A pass! She had never once thought of that! No one had mentioned herneed of it. What was she to do? She looked confounded and terrified. 

"No pass?" inquired the man, sternly. "'Tis easy enough to see whatYOU are, then. A runaway!" said he, turning to a man at his right hand, "make her fast. "

Frightened and trembling, Tidy tried to run, but it was of no use; astrong hand seized her slender arm, and held her securely. Then hersight seemed to fail her, she grew dizzy, and fell fainting on the deck. A crowd gathered about her. They remarked her light skin and delicatefeatures, her ladylike form and neat dress. Could she be a slave? theyasked. Would such a child as she appeared to be attempt to gain herliberty? They dashed water on her head, and, as her consciousnessreturned, she saw the faces of those two pleasant Scotch gentlemen, who had rode with her the day before all the way from Virginia, lookingkindly and pitifully upon her. 

"If you had only told us, " they said, "we could have helped you. "

But there was no friend or helper in that terrible hour, and poor Tidy, weeping and almost heart-broken, was carried back to Baltimore, andthrown into the SLAVE-JAIL. 

CHAPTER XIII. A LONG JOURNEY. 

IF I pronounce this disastrous event in Tidy's life another link inthe chain of loving-kindness by which God was leading her to himself, perhaps you will wonder. But, my dear children, adversities are designedfor this very purpose, and are all directed in infinite love and wisdomfor our good. Tidy had prayed that she might be free, and the Lordheard, and meant to answer her prayer. He meant not only to give her theliberty she sought, but, more than that, to make her soul free in ChristJesus; but there were some things she needed to learn first. She wasnot prepared yet to use her personal liberty rightly, nor did she at allappreciate or desire that other and better freedom. Therefore the Lorddisappointed her at this time, and turned the course of her life, as itwere, upside down, that by painful experiences and narrow straits shemight learn what an all-sufficient Friend he could be to her; that shemight learn too the sinfulness of her own heart, and his free grace andmercy for her pardon and salvation. 

God "leads the blind in the way they know not. " Tidy knew nothing ofthe method by which he was guiding her, and when she found her hopescrushed, and herself crouching, forlorn and friendless, weary andhalf-famished, in a prison, she gave up all for lost. She felt indeedcast off and forsaken. For hours she sat and cried despairingly, thepretty dress crumpled and stained with tears, and the hat which had beenso much admired trampled under foot. Shame, grief, and fear of what wasto come drove her almost to distraction. 

At the end of three days, Mr. Lee, acting as her master, who had beenapprised of her arrest, arrived at the prison. But what a wretchedobject had he come to see! He could scarcely believe that the miserable, dejected being before him was the once bright, beautiful Tidy, --such achange had her disappointment and sorrow wrought. He really pitiedher, if a slaveholder ever can pity a slave, and yet he reproached herseverely. He told her she was a fool to run away; that niggers neverknew when they were well off; that if she had had a thimble-full ofsense she might have known she couldn't make her escape. He said theyhad just been offered a thousand dollars for her, --which was thenconsidered an enormous price, --by a gentleman in Virginia, and they hadbeen on the point of selling her. 

"I's Miss Matilda's, " fiercely cried the poor girl at this, "and SHEwouldn't a sold me; she said she never would. "

"Yes, she would, Miss, " replied Mr. Lee; "we don't let her throwaway such a valuable piece of property for nothing, I can tell you. Athousand dollars in the bank isn't a small thing. It wouldn't find feetto walk off with very soon, that we know. "

"Miss Matilda TOLD me to take my liberty, " said Tidy, disconsolately. 

"Miss Matilda is a fool, like you. But we shall look out she don't cheatherself in such a fashion. Now you can have your choice, little one;you can go home with me, and take a good flogging for an example to therest, and stay with us till another buyer comes up, --for Mr. Nicholsonwon't take such an uncertain piece of goods as you have showed yourselfto be, --or you can go South. There's a trader here ready to take youright off. I'll give you till tomorrow morning to make up your mind. "

"I'll go South, " said the poor girl, the next morning. "I can't bearever to see Miss Tilda again. " And she settled herself down to her fate. She knew her life of bondage would be hard there, and she would nothave much chance of getting her freedom. But it was better than themortification of going back. 

So she was sold to Mr. Pervis, the slave-trader. Mr. Pervis made aboutfifty purchases in Baltimore and the vicinity, and then organizing hisgang he started for the South. Oh, what a different journey from thatwhich Tidy had intended when she left home. A thousand miles South, intothe very heart of slavery's dominions, with a company of coarse, stupid, filthy, wretched creatures, such as she never would have willinglyassociated with at home, so much more delicately had she beenreared. Many of these were field-hands sold to go to the cottonplantations, --sold for "rascality. "

Do you know what that means? You think it is ugliness. But no; it isa DISEASE. It is a droll sort of malady, to which a learned Louisianadoctor has given a singular name, which I can't spell, and which youwouldn't know how to pronounce; but the symptoms I can describe. Wherea slave is attacked with this disease, he acts in a very stupid andcareless manner, and does a great deal of mischief, breaking, abusing, and wasting every thing he can lay his hands on. He tears his clothes, throws away food, cuts up plants in the field, breaks his tools, hurtsthe horses and cattle, and does a vast amount of injury, and in sucha way that it seems as if it was all done on purpose. He will neitherwork, nor eat the food offered him; quarrels with the other slaves andfights with the drivers, and altogether acts in such an ugly way thatthe overseer says he is "rascally. " If it was really ugliness, he wouldbe whipped; but, of course, whipping won't cure disease; so the mastersconsider it incurable, and sell the slave to go South to work in therice-swamps and cotton-fields. They, perhaps, think a change ofclimate will do more for the patient than any other means. The Southernphysicians don't have much success, to tell the truth, in curing thisdifficulty, for they don't seem to understand it. If they would onlyconsult with some of their profession at the North, I have no doubt theywould get some valuable suggestions on the subject. I really believethat the liberty-cure, practised by some judicious money-pathicphysician, would effectually cure this "rascality. " I wish I could seeit tried. 

Tidy found herself, therefore, in very undesirable company on thisexpedition to Georgia, and made up her mind very shortly that therewould not be much enjoyment in it. She did not have to drag wearilyalong on foot all the way; for Mr. Lee was considerate enough to suggestto Mr. Pervis, that, as she had been brought up as a house-servant, andnot accustomed to very hard work, she would not be able to walk much, and if she was not allowed to ride, there would be no Tidy left by thetime they got to their journey's end, and the thousand dollars which hadjust been paid for her would have been thrown away. So Mr. Pervis gaveher a permanent place in one of the wagons, and the other women weretaken up by turns, whenever the poor creatures could step no longer. The men dragged along, handcuffed in pairs, and their low, brutal, andprofane conversation was dreadful to Tidy. Oh, how often she wished shehad staid contentedly with Mammy Grace, and not tried to run away. Andyet her hope was not utterly gone, for she often caught herself saying, with closed teeth, "Give me a chance, and I'll try it again. " Freedomlooked too attractive to be entirely relinquished. 

The gang halted at night, put up their tents, lighted fires and cookedtheir mean repast. Then they stretched themselves on the bare ground tosleep. In the morning, after the wretched breakfast was eaten, the tentswere struck, the wagons loaded again, and they started for another day'stravel, --and so on till the long, wearisome march was over. It took themmany weeks before they arrived at their destination. 

There Tidy was soon resold, the trader making two hundred dollars bythe bargain, and she became the property of Mr. Turner, who took her toNatchez, on the Mississippi River, where she became waiting-maid to Mrs. Turner, his wife. 

The poor girl was never the same in appearance after she left herVirginia home. A deep pall seemed to have been thrown over her spirit, and her hopes and happiness lay buried beneath it. Her disposition hadlost its buoyancy, and her face wore a sad, pensive look. She triedto do her duty here as before, and her skill and neatness made her afavorite. But there was no one here to care for her and love her asMammy Grace had done; and she missed the children sadly. Her hymn-bookwas neglected; for when she opened it such a flood of recollections cameover her that the tears blinded her eyes and she could not see a word, and she never now heard a prayer. She was again in an irreligiousfamily, and among an ungodly set of servants, and her faith, hope, andlove began to grow dim. A dull, heavy manner, and a careless, recklessstate of mind was growing upon her. 

It required deeper sorrow than she had yet experienced to wake her upfrom this sluggish, unhappy condition. 

CHAPTER XIV. CRUELTY. 

SHE was standing one beautiful evening at the front gate of the house, leaning on the rail, and gazing listlessly up the street. She wasthinking, perhaps, of that starry night when first she had heard of thename of God, or that other, when her faith had been so wonderfully builtup in listening to the striking experiences and prayer of the memorableLony. Perhaps she had wandered farther back to the time, when, under oldRosa's protection, she had fed the chickens and watered the flowers atRosevale with childish content. Whatever it was, the tears would come, and several times she raised her hand and dashed them away. Then sheturned her head and gazed the other way. 

A large hotel stood nearly opposite the house, and across the narrowstreet she watched the mingling, busy crowd of black and white, youngand old, coming and going, each intent on his own interests, eachholding in his heart the secret of his own history. Who are they all?thought Tidy, what business are they all about? I wonder if they are allhappy? not one of them knows or cares for poor, unhappy me, --when lo!there suddenly loomed up before her a familiar face. She watched iteagerly as it moved up and down in the throng, for she felt that she hadseen it before. But it was some minutes before she could tell exactlywhere. At last it all came to her. It was Arthur Carroll, the son of theman who had owned her when a baby. She had often seen and played withhim in her visits to her mother. Many years had passed since she lastbeheld him, and he had grown to be a young gentleman; but she was sureit was he. He stepped out of the hotel and came towards the house. She uttered a little, quick cry, "Why, Mass Arthur!" He turned andrecognized her, and at once stopped to inquire into her condition andcircumstances. 

It was almost like a visit to old Virginia to see young Carroll; and ascold water to a thirsty soul was the news he brought her from that farcountry. Tidy drank in eagerly every word he could tell her of theLees, and others whom she knew, and they were enjoying an animatedconversation when Tidy's master passed that way. He saw his slaveengaged in familiar talk with a stranger, and remembering the remarkof the trader of whom he had bought her, that she had tried "therunning-away game" once, and must be watched lest she should repeat theattempt, without waiting to inquire into the circumstances of the case, he resolved to administer a proper chastisement. Coming up behind, hestruck her a violent blow on the side of the head that sent the frailgirl reeling to the ground. 

For a few minutes Tidy lay stunned upon the earth. When she came toherself, her head was smarting with pain and her heart burned like firewith indignation, and in a perfect frenzy of distress and mortificationshe rushed out of the gate and flew down the street. Up and down, through the streets and lanes of the city, she ran for hours, notknowing or caring whither she went, until finally, exhausted andbewildered, she dropped down upon the ground. Some one raised thepanting girl and took her to the guard-house. There she lay untilmorning before she could give any distinct thought to what she had done, and what course she was now to pursue. 

When she began to think clearly, she felt that she had acted veryunwisely. For a slave to resist punishment, if it is ever so undeserved, or to attempt to escape it by running away, is only to provoke severerchastisement. That she well knew, and that there was nothing to be donenow, but to walk back to her master's house and meet a fate she couldnot avoid. She only hoped that, when she acknowledged her fault, andfrankly told her master that she did it under a wild and bewilderingexcitement, he would pardon her and let it pass. 

She dragged her weary steps back to her master's house, fainting withfatigue and hunger, and presented herself before her mistress. 

"I's right sorry I runned so, " she said, "but I was kind o' scared like, and didn't know jest what I did. I knows I's no business to run awaywhen massa cuffed me. "

Her mistress made no reply but an angry look; but nothing was said byany one about what had happened, and Tidy felt that trouble was brewing. What it would be she could not tell, but her heart was heavy within her. Nothing occurred that day, but the next morning she was told to tie upher clothes and be ready to go up the river at ten o'clock. Sheknew what going up the river meant. Mr. Turner owned a large cottonplantation about twenty miles from Natchez, and the severest punishmentdreaded by his servants in the city was to be sent there. 

Tom, the coachman, accompanied Tidy, bearing in his pocket a note to theoverseer of the plantation. Would you take a peep into it before she, whom it most concerned, learned its contents? It ran thus, --

"NATCHEZ, Wednesday, A. M. 

"DIOSSY, --

"Give this wench a hundred lashes with the long whip this afternoon. Wash her down well, and when she is fit to work, put her into the cottonfield. 

"ABRAM TURNER. "

Oh, let us weep, dear children, for the poor girl, who, for no crimeat all, not even a misdeed, was made to bare her tender skin to suchshameless cruelty. No friend was there to help her, to plead for her, todeliver her from the relentless, violent hand of the wicked oppressor. She was left all alone to her terrible suffering. Can we wonder that shefelt that even the Lord had forgotten her?

That night there was scarcely an inch of flesh from her neck to her feetthat was not torn, raw, and bleeding. The salt brine, which is used toheal the wounds, although when first applied it seems to aggravatethe torture, was poured pitilessly over her, and writhing with agony, fainting, and almost dead, she was borne to a wretched hut, and laidon a hard pallet. Three weeks she lay there, sick and helpless; but shecried unto the Lord in her distress, and he heard her, and prepared todeliver her, though the time of her deliverance was not yet fully come. She had been brought low, but her eyes were not yet opened to her trueneeds, and she had not yet learned the prayer God would have her offer, "Be merciful to me, a SINNER. "

Children, when you pray, do not be discouraged, if God does not answeryou INSTANTLY. His way is not as our way; and though he hears us, andmeans to answer us, he may see that we are not yet ready to receive andappreciate the blessing we seek. Besides, there is no TIME with God aswe count time. WE reckon by days and weeks, by months and years, butwith him all is "one, eternal NOW;" and he goes steadily on, executinghis purposes of love and mercy, without regard to those points andmeasures of time which seem so important to us. We must remember, too, that it takes longer to do some things than others. A praying womanwhose faith was greatly tried, once asked her minister what this versemeant, --Luke xviii. 8: "I tell you that he will avenge them SPEEDILY. "He replied, "If you make a loaf of bread in ten minutes, you think youhave done your work speedily. Supposing a steam-engine is to be built. The pattern must be drafted, the iron brought, the parts cast, fitted, polished, tried, --it will take months to complete it, and then you mayconsider it SPEEDILY executed. So, when we ask God to do something forus, he may see a good deal of preparation to be necessary, --obstaclesare to be removed, stepping-stones to be laid, --in the words of theBible, the rough places are to be made plain, and the crooked waysstraight, before the way of the Lord is prepared, and he can comedirectly with the thing we have asked. "

It was thus with Tidy. She kept praying all the time to be free, but theLord, who meant to give her a larger and better freedom than sheasked, led her through such rough and crooked paths that she was quitediscouraged, and nearly gave up all for lost. 

This was her painful condition when she was driven, for the first timein her life, with a gang of men and women to work in the cotton-field. 

CHAPTER XV. COTTON. 

LET us look into a cotton-field; we will take this one of a hundredacres. The cotton is planted in rows, and requires incessant tillage tosecure a good crop. The weeds and long grass grow so rankly in this warmclimate that great watchfulness and care are required to keep them down. If there should be much rain during the season, they will spread sorapidly as perhaps quite to outgrow and ruin the crop. 

Two gangs of laborers work in the field. The plough-gang go firstthrough the rows, turning up the soil, and are followed by the hoe-gang, who break out the weeds, and lay the soil carefully around the roots ofthe young plants. This operation has to be repeated again and again; andso important is it to have it done seasonably that the workers are urgedon, early and late, until the field is in a flourishing condition. Hotor cold, wet or dry, day and night, sometimes, the poor creatures haveto toil through this busy season. Then there is a little intermission ofthe severe labor until the picking time, when again they are obliged towork incessantly. 

Most of the hoers are women and boys, some of whom do the whole allottedtask; others only a quarter, half, or three quarters, according to theirability. When the children are first put into the field, they are onlyput to quarter tasks, and some of the women are unable to do more. Thebell is rung for them at early dawn, when they rise, prepare and eattheir breakfast, and move down to the field. Clad in coarse, filthy, andscanty clothing, they drag sullenly along, and use their implements oflabor with a slow, reluctant motion, that says very plainly, "Thiswork is not for ME. My toil will do ME no good. " Oh, how would freedom, kindness, and good wages spur up those unwilling toilers! How wouldthe bright faces, the cheerful words and songs of independent, self-interested, intelligent laborers, make those fields to rejoice, almost imparting vigor and growth to the cotton itself! But, alas! it isa sad place, a valley of sighs and groans and tears and blood, a realmof hate and malice, of imprecation and wrath, and every fierce andwicked passion. 

A "water-toter" follows each gang with a pail and calabash; and thenegro-driver stands among them with a long whip in his hand, which hesnaps over their heads continually, and lets the lash fall, with more orless severity, on one and another, shouting and yelling meanwhile ina furious and brutal manner, as a boisterous teamster would do to hisunruly oxen. 

If the season is wet, the danger to the crop being greater, there ismore necessity for constant toil, and the poor slaves are whipped, pushed, and driven to the very utmost, and allowed no time to rest. It is no matter if the old are over-worked, or the young too hardlypressed, or the feeble women faint under their burdens. So that a goodcrop is produced, and the planter can enjoy his luxuries, it is noconsideration that tools are worn out, mules are destroyed, or theslaves die; more can be bought for next year, and the slaveholder saysit pays to force a crop, though it be at the expense of life among thehands. 

At noon, the dinner is brought to each gang in a cart. The hoers stopwork only long enough to eat their poor fare standing, --and poor fareindeed it is. The corn that is made into bread is so filled with husksand ground so poorly that it is scarcely better than the fodder given tothe cattle; and the bacon, if they have any, is badly cured and cooked. But they must eat that or starve; there is no chance of getting anything better. The ploughmen take their dinners in the sheds where themules are allowed to rest; and since two hours is usually given theseanimals, for rest and foddering, they, of course, must take the same. 

At sunset they leave off work, and, tired and hungry, they have toprepare their own supper; and after hastily eating it, at nine o'clockthe bell is rung for them to go to bed. Sundays they are not usuallyrequired to work, and some planters give their slaves a portion ofSaturday, in the more leisure season; and this intermission of fieldlabor is all the opportunity they have to wash and mend their clothes, or for any enjoyment. What a sorry life! sixteen hours out of thetwenty-four, with a hoe in the hand, or a heavy cotton sack or baskettied about the neck, toiling on under the curses and lash of the driverand the overseer. 

Tidy dreaded it. Brought up as she had been, accustomed to comparativelyneat clothing, good food, cheerful associates, and light work, how couldshe live here? She felt that she could not long endure it. Her strengthwould fail, her task be unfinished, then she must be punished, andbefore long, through hard fare, unwearied toil, and ill usage, she feltthat she should die. But there was no help. Once she had ventured tosend an entreaty to her master to take her back to house service. But hewas hardhearted and unrelenting, and declared with an oath that made herears tingle that she should never leave the cotton-field till she died, and there was no power in heaven or earth that could make him changehis determination. So she hopelessly plodded on, day after day, scorchedbeneath the hot sun, and drenched with the pouring rain, weak, faint, and thirsty, trembling before the coarse shouts, and shrinking from thetormenting lash of the pitiless driver, sure that her fate was sealed. 

[illustration omitted]

Was there no eye to pity, and no arm to rescue? Yes, the unseen God, whose name is love, was leading her still. Through all the dark, roughplaces of her life, his kind, invisible hand was laying link to link inthat wondrous chain which was finally to bring her safe and happy intohis own bosom. 

CHAPTER XVI. RESCUE. 

THE slaves on Mr. Turner's plantation had no SABBATH. To be sure, theywere not driven to the field on Sunday, because it was considered aneconomic provision to let man and beast rest one day out of the seven. But they had no church to attend, and never had any meetings amongthemselves. Indeed there were no pious ones among them. The men took theday for sport; the women washed and ironed, sewed and cooked, and didvarious necessary chores for themselves and children, for which theywere allowed no other opportunity; and spent the rest of the day in rudesinging, dancing, and boisterous merriment. 

Tidy could not live as the rest did. She could not forget theinstructions and habits of the past. She preferred to sit up later onSaturday evening to do the work which others did on Sunday, and whenthat day came, she never entered into their coarse gayety and mirth. Shehad no heart for it, and did not care though she was reviled and scoffedat for her particular, pious ways. 

One Sunday afternoon, weary with the noise and rioting at the quarters, homesick and sad, she wandered away from her hovel, and strolling downthe path which led to the cotton-field, she kept on through bush andbrake and wood until she reached the bank of the river. Here, where thegreat Mississippi, the Father of Waters, seemed to have broken his waythrough tangled and interminable forests, she stood and looked out uponthe broad stream. It lay like a vast mirror reflecting the sunlight, its surface only now and then disturbed by a passing boat or prowlingking-fisher. Up and down the bank, with folded arms and pensivecountenance, the toil-worn, weary girl walked, her soul in unison withthe solitude and silence of the place. Recollections of the past, whichcontinually haunted her, but which she had of late striven with all hermight to banish from her mind, now rushed like a mighty tide overher. She could not help thinking of the pleasant Sabbath days in oldVirginia, when she and Mammy Grace were always permitted to go tochurch; and of those sunset hours, when, seated in the door of the neatcabin, she had joined with the old nurse and Uncle Simon in singingthose beautiful hymns they loved so well. How long it was since shehad tried to sing one! Before she was aware, she was humming, in a lowvoice, the once familiar words:--

 "Oh, when shall I see Jesus, And reign with him above? And from that flowing fountain Drink everlasting love?"

Then, suddenly jumping over all the intervening verses, as if she, apoor shipwrecked soul, were springing to the cable suddenly thrown outbefore her, she burst out in a loud strain, --

 "Whene'er you meet with trouble And trials on your way, Oh, cast your care on Jesus, And don't forget to pray. "

With what unction Uncle Simon used to pour forth that verse. It was tohim the grand cure-all, the panacea for every heart-trouble; and overand over again he would sing it, always winding up in his own peculiarfashion with a quick, jerked-out "Hallelujah! Amen. "

His image rose vividly before Tidy at that moment, and, as the tearsbegan to roll down her cheeks, she clasped her hands over her face, andcried, "Oh, I has forgot that. I has forgot to pray. " Then, falling onher knees, she poured forth such an earnest prayer as had never before, perhaps, been heard in that vast solitude. Her heart was relieved bythis outpouring of her griefs to God, and she wondered that she hadallowed herself, notwithstanding her sufferings and discouragements, toneglect such a privilege. It is so sometimes; grief is so overwhelmingthat it seems to shut us away from God; but we can never find comfortor relief until we have pierced through the clouds, and got near to hisloving ear and heart again. Tidy found this true. "And now, " she saidto herself, "I WILL keep on praying until he hears me, and comes to helpme, --I am determined I will. "

But perhaps, thought she, I haven't prayed the right prayer; perhapsthere's something about me that's wrong; and she cried with a loudvoice, that was echoed back again from those forest depths, "O Lord, tell me just how to pray, that I mayn't make no mistake. "

No sooner had she uttered this petition than she thought she heard avoice, and these were its words: "Say, 'O Lord, pluck me out of thefiery brands, and take my feet out of the miry pit, and make me standon the everlasting rock; and, O Lord, save my soul. '" Tidy had heard agreat many of her people tell about dreams and visions and voices, butshe had never before had any such experiences. But this came to her witha reality she could not doubt or resist. It seemed like a voice fromheaven, and she remarked that great stress was laid upon the lastwords, "O Lord, SAVE MY SOUL. " Hitherto she had only sought temporaldeliverance. She had never been fully awakened to her condition as asinner, and had, therefore, never asked for the salvation of her soul. Now it was strongly impressed upon her mind that there was somethingmore to be delivered from than the horrors of the cotton-field. Shewas a sinner, was not in favor with God, and if she should die in herpresent condition, she would go down to those everlasting burnings whichshe had always feared. All this was conveyed to her mind by a suddenimpression, in much shorter time than I can relate it; and at once sheaccepted it, and earnestly resolved that she would offer that twofoldprayer every day and hour, till the Lord should be pleased to come forher help. 

Perhaps some of my readers would like to ask if I believe she reallyheard a voice. No, I do not. I think it was the Holy Spirit of God thatbrought to her mind some of the Scripture expressions she had formerlyheard, and applied them to her heart with power. This is the peculiarwork of the Holy Spirit. When Christ was bidding farewell to hisdisciples, he told them he should send the Comforter, which is the HolyGhost, who should teach them all things, and BRING ALL THINGS TO THEIRREMEMBRANCE. I think that God, in his tender love and pity for Tidy, sent the Holy Ghost to bring to her remembrance those things which hadlong been buried in her heart; and at that tranquil hour, in that still, lonely spot, when her spirit was tender with sorrow, she was just in thecondition to receive his influences, and give attention to the thoughtshe had stirred up within her. And coming to her perception quickly, like a flash of light, as truth often does, it seemed to her excitedimagination like an audible voice, and the words had all the effect uponher of a direct revelation from heaven. 

This striking experience refreshed the poor girl, and nerved her anewfor her toils and trials. She felt hope again dawning within her; andthough she could see no way, she had faith to believe that the Lordwould appear for her rescue. She prayed the new prayer constantly. Itwas her first thought in the morning, and her last at night, and duringevery moment of the livelong day was in her heart or on her lips. 

One forenoon, as she was drawing her weary length along with theaccustomed gang, picking the ripe, bursting cotton-bolls, a messengerarrived to say that she was wanted by the master. She almost fainted atthe summons. What could he want her for? Surely it was not for good. Washe going to inflict cruelty again as unmerited as it had before been?She threw off her cotton-sack from her neck, to obey the summons;but she trembled so that she could scarcely walk. Her knees smote oneagainst another, her heart throbbed, and her tongue cleaved to theroof of her mouth in her excitement and fright. As she drew near to thehouse, she perceived her master with haughty strides walking up and downthe veranda, his hands behind him and his head thrown back, his wholeappearance bearing witness to the proud, imperious spirit within. Agentleman of milder aspect was seated on a chair, intently eying Tidy asshe approached, and she heard him say, --

"Can you recommend her, Turner? Do you really think she is capable offilling the place?"

"Capable!" said the master. "Take off that bag, and dress her, andyou'll see. TOO smart, that's her fault. YOU'LL see. "

"I like her looks; I'll try her, " was the reply; and this was all theintimation Tidy had that she had been transferred to another master. Herheart leaped within her at what she heard; but when peremptorily told toget ready to follow Mr. Meesham, she hesitated. What for, do you think?Her first impulse was to throw herself at her master's feet, and askwhat had induced him to sell her. But she dared not. He cast upon hera glance of such spurning contempt that she cringed before him. But shemade up her mind that God only could have moved that stern, proud man tochange a purpose which he had declared to be inflexible. She was right. God, who controls all hearts, and can turn them withersoever he pleases, in answer to prayer, had moved that stubborn heart. 

Thus the first part of Tidy's new prayer was answered. 

CHAPTER XVII. TRUE LIBERTY. 

THE new home of Mr. Meesham was in Mobile. The master was an unmarriedman, who wanted a capable superintendent for his domestic concerns, aneat, lady-like servant to wait upon his table, a trustworthy keeperof his keys, a leader and director of his household slaves. All thishe found in Tidy, and when she was promoted to the head of theestablishment, dressed in becoming apparel, with plenty of food at hercommand, pleasant, easy work to do, and leisure enough for rest andenjoyment, perhaps you think she was happy. 

Ah, she was still a slave, and every day she was painfully reminded ofit. She could not exercise her own judgment, nor act according to herown sense of right. She must walk in the way her master pointed out, anddo his bidding. Whatever comforts she could pick up as she went along, she was welcome to; but she must have no choice or will of her own. 

Perhaps you think her gratitude to God for his great deliverance wouldmake her happy. So it did for a time, and then she forgot her deliverer, and the still greater blessing she needed to ask of him. How many thereare just like her, who cry to God for help in adversity, and forget himwhen the help comes. How many who promise God, when they are in troubleand danger, that if they are spared they will serve him, and, when thedanger is past, entirely forget their vows. 

Thus it was with Tidy. She had been brought out of the cotton-field, andthe misery that curtained it all round, into circumstances of plenty andcomparative ease; and, rejoicing that the first part of her prayer wasanswered, she forgot all about the second and most important petition, "O Lord, save my soul. "

But God was too faithful to forget it. He allowed her to go on in herown course a few years longer, and then he laid his hand upon her again. He prostrated her upon a bed of sickness, and brought her to look deathin the face. Then the Holy Spirit began to deal powerfully with her. Sherealized that she was a great sinner. It seemed that she was standing onthe brink of a horrible precipice, and her sins, like so many tormentingspirits, were ready to cast her headlong into the abyss of destruction. Whither could she flee for safety?

She found a Bible and tried to read; but it had been so long since shehad looked into a book that she had almost forgotten what she once knew. It was impossible for her to read right on as we do; she could only pickout here and there a word and a sentence. One day she opened the bookand her eye fell on the word "Come. " She knew that word very well. It made her think right away of the hymn, "Come, ye sinners, poor andneedy. " She thought she would read on just there, and see what it said;and imperfectly, and after long endeavors, she made out this verse, "Come now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord: though your sinsbe as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red likecrimson, they shall be as wool. " Then she glanced at a verse above, "Wash ye, make you clean: put away the evil of your doings from beforemine eyes; cease to do evil; learn to do well. "

These verses conveyed to her dark, unin-structed mind two very clearideas. One was that she was to forsake every thing that appeared toher like sin, and to do right in future; and the other, that she waspermitted to reason with the Lord about the sins she had committed; bothwhich she at once resolved to do. 

Her prayer now was changed. Before she had begged, entreated the Lordto forgive her sins; now she brought arguments. "Am I not a poor slave, Lord, " she cried, "that never has known nothing at all. I never heard nopreaching, I never had nobody to tell me how to be saved. I have done agood many wicked things, but I didn't know they were wicked then; andI have left undone many things, but I didn't know I ought to be soparticular to do them. And, Lord, out of your own goodness and kindnesswon't you forgive this poor child. You are so full of love, pity me, pity me, O Lord, and save my poor soul. I will try to be good. I willtry to do right. I'll never, never dance no more. I'll try to bear allthe hard knocks I get, and I won't be hard on them that's beneath me, and I will pray, and try to read the Bible, and I'll talk to the rest ofthe people; only, Lord, forgive my sins, and take this load off that'sbreaking my heart, and make me feel safe and happy, so I won't be afraidwhen I die. "

Thus the sick girl prayed with clasped hands upon her bed of pain; butstill her mind was dark. There was no one to tell her of the way ofsalvation through the Lord Jesus Christ. Had she never heard of Jesus?She had heard his name, had sung it in her hymns; but she imagined itto be another name for the Lord, and had never heard of the glorioussalvation that blessed Name imparts. 

One night, while in this state of distress and perplexity, Tidy dreameda dream. She thought she saw the Lord, seated on a majestic throne, withthousands and ten thousands of shining angels about him, and she wasbrought a guilty criminal before him. Convicted of sin, and not knowingwhat else to do, she again commenced pleading in her own behalf, usingevery argument she could think of to move the Lord to mercy. There wasno answer, but the great Judge to whom she appealed seemed turned asidein earnest conversation with one who stood at his right hand, wearingthe human form, but more fair and beautiful than any person she had everseen. Then the Lord turned again and looked upon her, --and such a look, of pity, of love, of forgiveness and reconciliation! A sweet peacedistilled upon her soul, and joy, such as she had never felt, sprang upin her bosom. "I am forgiven, I am accepted!" she cried, "but not forany thing I have said. This stranger has undertaken my case. He hasinterceded for me. I know not what plea he has used, but it has beensuccessful, and my soul is saved. " In this exultation of joy she awoke. 

Yes, her soul WAS free. The plan of salvation had been dimly revealedto the weeping sinner in the visions of the night. What strange ways theLord sometimes takes to reveal his love to his creatures! But his wayis not as our way, and he has ALL means at his control. Every soul willhave an individual history to tell of the revelation of God's mercy toit. 

Thus the second part of Tidy's long-offered prayer was answered. Fromthis time she rejoiced in the Lord, and gloried in her unknown Saviour. Her prayers were changed to praises, and she forgot that she was a slavein the happiness of her new-found soul-liberty. 

She kept her Bible at hand, and every now and then picked out someprecious verse; but the long, sweet story of Calvary, hidden between itscovers, she had not yet read. And her voice found delightful employmentin singing the hymns of the olden time, which came to her now with ameaning they had never had before. The Lord sent her health of body, andas she returned to her duties, she tried in all things to be faithfuland worthy. 

CHAPTER XVIII. CROWNING MERCIES. 

THE Lord had not yet exhausted his love towards Tidy, but was designingstill greater mercies for her. He was going to deliver her from thethralldom of oppression, and to send her to be further instructed in histruth, and to bear testimony to his loving-kindness in another home. 

The master's heart was moved to set her free; and, embarked in a smallvessel, with a New England captain, Tidy found herself at twenty yearsof age sailing away from the land of cruel bondage, to a home where sheshould know the blessings of freedom. Her emancipation papers were putinto the hands of the captain, and money to provide for her comfort, with the assurance that while her master lived she should never want. 

At first she was sick and almost broken-hearted at the change in hercondition. Much as she longed for freedom, she had formed new ties inher Mobile home, which it was hard for her affectionate nature to break. She was old enough now to look forward to some of the difficulties to beencountered in a land of strangers, seeking employment in unaccustomedways. But she went to her Bible as usual in her trouble, and the wordswhich the Angel of the Covenant addressed to Jacob, when, exiled fromhis father's house, he made the stones of Bethel his pillow, came righthome refreshingly to her, --"I am with thee, and will keep thee inall places whither thou goest. " The soreness at her heart was at oncehealed, and she cried out, in deep emotion, "Enough, Lord! Now I havegot something to hold on by, and I will never let it go. When I get intotrouble, I shall come and say, Lord, you remember what you said to me onboard ship, and I know you will keep your promise. "

Thus fortified for her new life, Tidy arrived at New York. The sun wasjust setting as she planted her foot on the soil of freedom; and ashis slanting rays fell upon her, she thought of her toiling, sufferingsisters, driven at this hour from labor to misery, and her heartsickened at the thought. "O God, " she cried, "hasten the day when ALLshall be free. "

Tidy's first experience in this wilderness of delights, where was somuch to be seen, learned, and enjoyed, was a striking one, and provedhow the goodness of God followed her all the days of her life. It wasSaturday evening when she landed. The family with whom the captainplaced her were pious people, and were glad enough of the opportunity onthe morrow of taking an emancipated slave, who had never been insidea church, to the house of God. It was a humble, un-pretending edificewhere the colored people worshiped, but to her it was spacious andsplendid. How neat and orderly every thing appeared. Men, women, andchildren, in their Sunday attire, walked quietly through the streets, and reverently seated themselves in the place of worship. The ministerascended the pulpit, and the singers took their places in the choir. Itwas communion Sunday, and the table within the altar was spread for theholy feast. All these strange and incomprehensible proceedings filledthe mind of Tidy with solemnity and awe. 

The services began. The prayer and reading of the Scripture seemed tofeed her hungry soul as with the bread of life. Then the congregationarose and sang, --

 "Alas, and did my Saviour bleed? And did my Sovereign die? Would he devote his sacred head For such a worm as I? Oh, the Lamb, the loving Lamb, The Lamb on Calvary;

 The Lamb that was slain, That liveth again, To intercede for me. "

All through the hymn she was actually trembling with excitement. Herwhole being was thrilled, her eyes overflowed with tears, and shecould scarcely hold herself up, as verse after verse, with the swellingchorus, convinced her that they sang the praises of Him whom she hadseen in her dream, who stood between her and an offended God, and whom, though she knew him not, she loved and cherished in her inmost soul. Oh, if she could know more about him!

Her wish was to be gratified. As Paul said to the people of Athens, "Whom therefore ye ignorantly worship, him declare I unto you, " so mightthe preacher of righteousness have said to this eager listener. He tookfor his text these words: "He was wounded for our transgressions, he wasbruised for our iniquities; the chastisement of our peace was upon him;and with his stripes we are healed. " Then followed the whole story ofthe cross, --the reasons why it was necessary for Jesus to give his lifea ransom for many; the divine love that prompted the sacrifice; theall-sufficiency of the atonement; and the completeness of Christ'ssalvation. He spoke of Jesus as the one accepted Intercessor, Advocate, and Surety above, and urged his hearers to yield themselves with faithand love to this faithful and merciful Saviour. 

Tidy sat with her eyes fixed on the speaker, her mouth open withamazement, and her hands clasped tightly over her heart, as if to quietits feverish throbs; and when he had finished, and one and another inthe congregation added an earnest "Amen, " "Hallelujah, " and "Praise theLord, " she could keep still no longer. "'TIS HE, " she cried, raising herhands, "'TIS HE; But I never heard his name before. "

The closing hymn fell with sweet acceptance upon her ear, and calmed, insome measure, the tumultuous rapture of her spirit:--

 "Earth has engrossed my love too long! 'Tis time I lift mine eyes Upward, dear Father, to thy throne, And to my native skies. 

 "There the blest Man, my Saviour sits; The God! how bright he shines! And scatters infinite delights On all the happy minds. 

 *'Seraphs, with elevated strains, Circle the throne around; And move and charm the starry plains, With an immortal sound. 

 "Jesus, the Lord, their harps employs; Jesus, my love, they sing! Jesus, the life of all our joys, Sounds sweet from every string. 

 "Now let me mount and join their song, And be an angel too; My heart, my hand, my ear, my tongue, Here's joyful work for you. 

 "There ye that love my Saviour sit, There I would fain have place, Among your thrones, or at your feet, So I might see his face. "

Is there any thing, dear children, that can penetrate the whole beingwith such rapturous joy as the love of Christ? If you have never feltit, learn to know him that you may experience those "infinite delights"which he only can pour in upon the soul. 

And now we must take leave of Tidy. She lives still, a hearty, humble, trusting Christian. She has been led to her true rest in God, and inhim she is secure and happy; "sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; havingnothing, and yet possessing all things. "

"I have every thing I want, " she says, as she sits beside me, "for Godis my Father, and his children, you know, Missus, inherits the earth. "

"How happens it, then, that you are so poor?" I ask. 

"My Father gives me every thing he sees best for me, " is her beautifulreply. "It wouldn't be good for me to have a great many things. When Ineed any thing, I ask him, and he always gives it to me. I AM PERFECTLYSATISFIED. "

Dear children, upon this little story-tree two golden apples ofinstruction hang, which I want you to pluck and enjoy. One is, that ifGod so loved a humble slave-child, and took such pains to bring her tohimself, it is our privilege to feel the same sympathy and love for thispoor despised race. And this love will draw us two ways: first, towardsGod, admiring and praising his infinite goodness and compassion; and, secondly, towards these prostrate, down-trodden people, to do all wecan, in God's name, and for his dear sake, for their elevation andinstruction. Remember, "Whosoever shall give to drink unto one of theselittle ones, a cup of cold water only, in the name of a disciple, "--thatis, through this feeling of love, of Christian kindness, "he shall in nowise lose his reward. "

The other, --if God so loved this humble slave-child, he has the samelove towards every one of you. Will you not yield yourselves to hiscontrol, and let his various loving-kindnesses draw you too to himself?

OLD DINAH JOHNSON. 

ONE day little Henry Wallace came to his mother's side, as she wassitting at her work, and, after standing thoughtfully a few moments, helooked up in her face and said:

"Ma, how many heavens are there?"

"Only one, my child, " replied his mother, looking up from her work withsurprise at such a question. "What made you ask me that?"

"Isn't there but one?" inquired Henry, with a little sort of trouble inhis voice. "Then, will Dinah Johnson go to the same heaven we do?"

"Certainly, my dear; for heaven is one glorious temple, and God is thelight of it; and into it will be gathered all those who love the LordJesus Christ, to dwell in his presence, in fullness of joy, for ever. But Henry, my darling, why did you ask such a question? Don't you wantpoor old Dinah to go to the same heaven that we do?"

"Oh, yes, mamma, I love Dinah, and I want her to go to our heaven;but last Sunday papa told me that the angels were every one fair andbeautiful, and Jacob Sanders says Dinah is a homely old darkey. Now, howcan she change, mamma?"

Henry's mother saw at once where the difficulty lay in her little boy'smind; so, putting aside her work, she took the child up on her knee, andexplained the matter to him. 

"Henry, " said she, "I am sorry to hear that Jacob Sanders calls Dinah adarkey; for those who are so unfortunate as to have a black skin don'tlike to be called that or any other bad name. They have trouble enoughwithout that, and I hope you will never, never do it. They like best tobe called colored persons, and we should always try to please them. Weshould pity them, and try to relieve their sorrows, and not increasethem. Don't you think so?"

"Yes, ma, and I do love Dinah, and I don't care if she isn't white, likeyou. "

"Neither does God, our heavenly Father, care, Henry, about the color ofthe skin. The Bible says, 'God is no respecter of persons; but in everynation, he that feareth him and worketh righteousness, is accepted withhim. ' God looks at the soul more than at the body. Nothing colors THESOUL but sin. That stains and blackens it all over, and only the bloodof Jesus Christ can wash it pure and white again. But every soul thathas been washed and made white in the blood of the Lamb will be welcomedinto heaven, with songs of great rejoicing; and all will dwell togetherin peace and purity, and love and great happiness for ever. 

"Poor old Dinah is one of God's dear children. She loves the dearSaviour very much, and tries in every way to please and honor him; andshe is looking forward with great pleasure to the time when she shalldrop that infirm, old, black body, and be clothed with light as anangel. I shall be glad for her, --sha'n't you, darling?"

"Yes, indeed, mamma, --so glad;" and the little boy's mind was henceforthat rest on that point. 

But I must tell my readers who old Dinah Johnson was. Once she was aslave; but when she had become so old that her busy head and hands andfeet could do no more service for her master, he had set her free. Ofcourse, she was glad to be free, --to feel that she could go where sheliked, and do as she pleased, and keep all the money she could earn forherself. Precious little it was, though, for her sight was growing dim, and her hands and feet were all distorted with rheumatism; and what withpains and poverty and old age, her strength was fast wasting. But shewas happy, really happy. 

If you could have looked upon her, though, you wouldn't have supposedshe had any thing to be happy about. With a skin black as night, hairgray and scanty, her face was as homely as homely could be, and herlimbs were weak and tottering. The old, unpainted house she lived inshook and creaked with every blast of the wintry wind, and the snowdrifted in at every crack and crevice. Her furniture was very poor, and her food mean. But it is not what we see outside that makes peoplehappy. Oh, no; happiness springs from the inside. The fountain is in theheart, from which the streams of joy and gladness flow. 

With all her homeliness and poverty, old Dinah was a jewel in the sightof the Lord. He had graven her upon the palm of his hand, and writtenher name in the book of life; and she was treasured as a precious childin his loving heart. The name of the Lord was precious to her, also;they were bound together in a covenant of love. Of course, she washappy. 

Her heavenly Friend never forgot her. He sent many a one to bring herwork and money and fuel and clothes. She was never without her bread andwater, --you know the Lord has told his children that their "BREAD andWATER shall be SURE, "--and almost always she had a little tea and sugarin the cupboard. At Thanksgiving time, many a good basket-full ofpies and chickens found their way to her humble door; and when she hadreceived them, she would raise her hands and eyes to heaven, and thankthe Lord for his goodness, and ask for a blessing upon the kind heartsthat sent the gifts. She did not always know who they were, but she wassure she should see them and love them in heaven. 

The only thing that seemed to trouble old Dinah was that she couldn'thelp others; that she couldn't do any thing for her Lord and Saviour. "I am so black and ugly, " she would say, "and so old and lame and poor, that I a'n't fit to speak to any body; but I'll pray, I'll pray. "She managed to hobble to church; and there, from her high seat in thegallery, --poor colored people must always have the highest seats inthe house of God, --she could look all around the congregation. She tookespecial notice of the young men and women that came into church; andwhat do you think she did? Why, she would select this one and that oneto pray for, that they might be converted. She would find out theirnames, and something about them; and then she would ask God, a greatmany times every day, that he would send his Holy Spirit to them, andgive them new hearts. They didn't know any thing about her, of course, nor what she was doing. By and by, she would hear the glad news thatthey had come to Christ. Then she would choose others. These wereconverted, too; and by and by there was a great revival in the church, and many sinners were saved. After a time, there came a large crowd tojoin the church, and number themselves among the Lord's people; and poorold Dinah saw twelve young men, and several young women stand up in theaisle that day, and give themselves publicly to God, whom she had pickedout and prayed for in this way. Oh, she was so happy, then! Her oldeyes overflowed with tears of joy, and she couldn't stop thanking andpraising God. 

Now this was the good old creature that Henry Wallace thought might haveto go to another heaven, because her skin was black. Do YOU think Godwould need to make another heaven for her? No, indeed. But I'll tellyou, dear children, what I think. If there is a place in heaven higherand nearer God than another, that's the place where poor old Dinah willbe found at last. I think that those who love God most, whether they areblack or white, rich or poor, learned or ignorant, refined or rude, willstand the nearest to him in heaven. I am sure there was such warm lovebetween her and the Saviour, that he will not want her to be far awayfrom him in that bright world. He will call her up close to his side, and look upon her with sweet, affectionate smiles all the time. Andmany a one will wonder, perhaps, who that can be, so favored, sodistinguished. They will never imagine it to be the glorified body of apoor, old, black slave, from such a wretched home, --will they?

If there are TWO heavens, I would like to be admitted to hers, --wouldn'tyou?