UNCLE TOM'S CABIN

"
this
and
who
,
and
"
his
"
this
I
LIFE AMONG THE LOWLY. 147
bad been endowed from above,he longed to pour moon fe'Jl upon Cassy'slarge,black eyes, that
out something for the reliefof their woes. It is there was a wild and peculiarglare in them,
true, opportunities were scanty; but, on the way unlike their wonted fixed despair.
to the fields, and back again, and during the "Come here, Father Tom," she said,laying
hours of labor,chances fellin his way of extending
her small hand on his wrist,and drawing him
a helping-hand to the weary,
the disheartened forward with a force as if the hand were of steel ;
and discouraged. The
"
poor, worn-down,brutalized
come I 've here," news for you."
creatures, at first, "
could scarce comprehend What, Misse Cassy?" said Tom, anxiously.
"
this ; but,when it was continued week after week, Tom, would n't you like your liberty?"
"
and month after month, it began to awaken long-
I shall have it,Misse, in God's time,"said
silent chords in their benumbed hearts. Gradually
Tom.
"
and imperceptibly the strange,silent, patient
Ay, but you may have it to-night," said
man, who was ready to bear every one's Cassy, with a flashof sudden energy. "Come on!"
stood Tom hesitated.
burden, and soughthelp from none,
"
aside for all,and came last,and took least,yet
was foremost to share his littleall with any who
who filled the baskets of the weaker ones in the
field,at the terrible risk of comingshort in his
"
"own measure, with
"
not permitit,and more than once broke up such
attempts, with oaths and brutal execrations,
so that the blessed news had to circulate from
individual to individual. Yet who can speak the
more a native element in this race than any other ;
and it has often been found among them, that a
stray seed of truth, borne on some breeze of accident
? I 'm called
into hearts the most ignorant, has sprung on ; they call me ! His time 's come, and I '11
up into fruit,whose abundance has shamed that \have his heart's blood !'"
of higherand more skilful culture.
j " No, no, no !" said Tom, holdingher small
The poor mulatto woman, whose simple faitlihad hands,which were clenched with spasmodicviolence.
been
"
well-nighcrushed and overwhelmed,by the
No, ye poor, lost soul,that ye mustn't
avalanche of cruelty and wrong which had fallen do. The dear,blessed Lord never shed no blood
upon her,felt her soul raised up by the hymns and \but his own, and that liepouredout for us when
passages of HolyWrit, which
breathed into her ear in intervals, as
this lowlymissionary we was enemies. Lord,help us to follow his steps.
they were
soul an hour of retribution, when her hand should
avenge on her oppressor all the injustice and
cruelty to which she had oeen witness,or which
sJichad in her own person suffered.
"Come!" said she,in a whisper,fixing her
black eyes on him. "Come along! He's
" "
needed," the man who, in cold nights, would asleep" sound. I put enough into his brandy to
giveup
his tattered blanket to add to the comfort keep him so. I wish I 'd had more, should n't
of some woman who shivered with sickness, have wanted you. But come, the back door is
unlocked ; there 's an axe there,
put it there
room door is open ; I '11show you 'the way.
who, though pur-sued I 'd a done it myself,onlymy
arms are so weak.
unrelenting crueltyby their common tyrant, never Come along !"
joinedin uttering a word of reviling or cursing, "Not for ten thousand worlds,Misse!" said
man, at last,began to have a strangeTom, firmly,stopping and holding her back,as
power over them ; and,when the more pressingshe was pressing forward.
season was
past, and they were allowed "
again But think of all these poor creatures," said
their Sundays for their own use, many would Cassy. " We might set them all free,and go
gathertogether to hear from him of Jesus. They somewhere in the swamps, and find an island,
would gladly have met to hear, and pray, and and live by ourselves ; I 've heard of its being
sing, some place,together; but Legree would done. Any lifeis better than this."
"No!" said Tom, firmly."No! good never
comes of wickedness. I 'd sooner chop my right
hand
off!"
"
Then /shall do it,"Naid Cassy,turning.
simplejoy with which some of those poor outcasts,
"0, Misse Cassy!" said Tom, throwing himself
to whom life was a joyless journey to a dark before her, " for the dear Lord's sake that
unknown, heard of a compassionate Redeemer
and a heavenlyhome? It is the statement of devil țhat way ! Nothingbut evilwill come of
missionaries, that,of all races of the earth,none it. The Lord has n't called us to wrath. We
have received the Gospel with such eager docility must suffer,and wait his time."
"
as the African. The principle of reliance and Wait !" said Cassy. " Have n't I waited? "
unquestioning faith,which is its foundation,is waited till my head is dizi;y and my heart sick?
died for ye, don't sell your precious soul to tho
What has he made me suffer? What has he
j
; made hundreds of poor creatures suffer? Isn't he
wringing the life-bloodout of you
love our enemies ! ' '
goingto and returningfrom work ; and even the "Love!" said Cassy, with a fierce glare;
half-crazed and wanderingmind of Cassy was I " love such enemies ! It is n't in flesh and blood."
soothed and "
calmed by his simpleand unobtrusive No, Misse, itisn't,"said Tom, lookingup ;
influences.
j " but He givesit to us, and that 's the victory.
Stung to madness and despairby the crushingWhen we can love and pray over all and throu;;:
agonies of a life,Cassyhad often resolved in her !all,the battle 's past, and the victory 's "
come,
"
.
jglory be to God!" And, with streamingeyes
and chokingvoice,the black man looked up tw
heaven.
And this,0 Africa ! latestcalled of nations
One night, after all in Tom's cabin were sunk called to the crown of thorns țhe scourge, the
in sleep,he was suddenlyaroused by seeing her bloodysweat, the cross of agony,
is to be
face at the hole between the logs' that served 'thy victory; by this shalt thou reign with
for a window. She made a silent gesturefor him
I Christ when his kingdomshall come on earth !
to come out.
The deep fervor of'Tom's feelings, the softness
Tom came out the door. It was between one of his voice,his tears,fell like dew on the wild,
and two o'clock at "
night, broad,calm, still Iunsettled spirit of the poor
woman. A softness
moonlight. Tom remarked, as the lightof the
jgathered over the birid fires of her eye ; gtw"