A REFLECTION—AMERICAN ABOLITIONISTS—DISAFFECTION IN KENTUCKY—THE YOUNG MASTER—HIS REMONSTRANCE.

Upon my arrival home I found that the doctor, lured by curiosity, and not by business, had called. The news of Lindy's flight had reached him in many garbled and exaggerated forms; so he had come to assure himself of the truth. Of course, with all a Southern patriot's ire, he pronounced Lindy's conduct an atrocious crime, for which she should answer with life, or that far worse penalty (as some thought), banishment "down the river." Thought I not strangely, severely, of those persons, the doctor and the ladies, as they sat there, luxuriating over a bottle of wine, denouncing vengeance against a poor, forlorn girl, who was trying to achieve her liberty;—heroically contending for that on which Americans pride themselves? Had she been a Hungarian or an Irish maid, seeking an asylum from the tyranny of a King, she would have been applauded as one whose name was worthy to be enrolled in the litany of heroes; but she was a poor, ignorant African, with a sooty face, and because of this all sympathy was denied her, and she was pronounced nothing but a "runaway negro," who deserved a terrible punishment; and the hand outstretched to relieve her, would have been called guilty of treason. Oh, wise and boastful Americans, see ye no oppression in all this, or do ye exult in that odious spot, which will blacken the fairest page of your history "to the last syllable of recorded time"? Does not a blush stain your cheeks when you make vaunting speeches about the character of your government? Ye cannot, I know ye cannot, be easy in your consciences; I know that a secret, unspoken trouble gnaws like a canker in your breasts! Many of you veil your eyes, and grope through the darkness of this domestic oppression; you will not listen to the cries of the helpless, but sit supinely down and argue upon the "right" of the thing. There were kind and tender-hearted Jews, who felt that the crucifixion of the Messiah was a fearful crime, yet fear sealed their lips. And are there not now time-serving men, who are worthy and capable of better things, but from motives of policy will offer no word against this barbarous system of slavery? Oh, show me the men, like that little handful at the North, who are willing to forfeit everything for the maintenance of human justice and mercy. Blessed apostles, near to the mount of God! your lips have been touched with the flame of a new Pentecost, and ye speak as never men spake before! Who that listens to the words of Parker, Sumner, and Seward, can believe them other than inspired? Theirs is no ordinary gift of speech; it burns and blazes with a mighty power! Cold must be the ear that hears them unmoved; and hard the heart that throbs not in unison with their noble and earnest expressions! Often have I paused in this little book, to render a feeble tribute to these great reformers. It may be thought out of place, yet I cannot repress the desire to speak my voluntary gratitude, and, in the name of all my scattered race, thank them for the noble efforts they have made in our behalf!

All the malignity of my nature was aroused against Miss Bradly, when I heard her voice loudest in denunciation against Lindy.

As I was passing through the room, I could catch fragments of conversation anything but pleasing to the ear of a slave; but I had to listen in meekness, letting not even a working muscle betray my dissent. They were orthodox, and would not tolerate even from an equal a word contrary to their views.

I did not venture to ask the doctor what he thought of Aunt Polly, for that would have been called impudent familiarity, punishable with whipping at the "post;" but when I met young master in the entry, I learned from him that the case was one of hopeless insanity. Blood-letting, &c., had been resorted to, but with no effect. The doctor gave it as his opinion that the case was "without remedy." Not knowing that young master differed from his father and sisters, the doctor had, in his jocose and unfeeling way, suggested that it was not much difference; the old thing was of but little value; she was old and worn-out. To all this young master made no other reply than a fixed look from his meek eyes—a look which the doctor could not understand; for the idea of sympathy with or pity for a slave would have struck him as being a thing existing only in the bosom of a fanatical abolitionist, whose conviction would not permit him to cross the line of Mason and Dixon. Ah! little knew he (the coarse doctor) what a large heart full of human charities had grown within; nay, was indigenous to this south-western latitude. I believe, yes have reason to know, that the pure sentiment of abolition is one that is near and dear to the heart of many a Kentuckian; even those who are themselves the hereditary holders of slaves are, in many instances, the most opposed to the system. This sentiment is, perhaps, more largely developed in, and more openly expressed by, the females of the State; and this is accounted for from the fact that to be suspected of abolition tendencies is at once the plague-mark whereby a man is ever after considered unfit for public trust or political honor. It is the great question, the strong conservative element of society. To some extent it likewise taboos, in social circles, the woman who openly expresses such sentiments; though as she has no popular interests to stake, in many cases her voice will be on the side of right, not might.

In later years I remember to have overheard a colloquy between a lady and gentleman (both slaveholders) in Kentucky. The gentleman had vast possessions, about one-third of which consisted of slaves. The lady's entire wealth was in six negroes, some of them under the age of ten. They were hired out at the highest market prices, and by the proceeds she was supported. She had been raised in a strongly conservative community; nay, her own family were (to use a Kentuckyism) the "pick and choose" of the pro-slavery party. Some of them had been considered the able vindicators of the "system;" yet she, despite the force of education and the influence of domestic training, had broken away from old trammels and leash-strings, and was, both in thought and expression, a bold, ingrain abolitionist. She defied the lions in their chosen dens. On the occasion of this conversation, I heard her say that she could not remain happy whilst she detained in bondage those creatures who could claim, under the Constitution, alike with her, their freedom; and so soon as she attained her majority, she intended to liberate them. "But," said she—and I shall never forget the mournful look of her dark eye—"the statute of the State will not allow them to remain here ten days after liberation; and one of these men has a wife (to whom he is much attached), who is a slave to a master that will neither free her nor sell her. Now, this poor captive husband would rather remain in slavery to me, than be parted from his wife; and here is the point upon which I always stand. I wish to be humane and just to him; and yet rid myself from the horrid crime to which, from the accident of inheritance, I have become accessory." The gentleman, who seemed touched by the heroism of the girl, was beguiled into a candid acknowledgment of his own sentiments; and freely declared to her that, if it were not for his political aspirations, he would openly free every slave he owned, and relieve his conscience from the weight of the "perilous stuff" that so oppressed it. "But," said he, "were I to do it in Kentucky, I should be politically dead. It would, besides, strike a blow at my legal practice, and then what could I do? 'Othello's occupation would be gone.' Of what avail, then, would be my 'quiddits, quillets; my cases, tenures and my tricks?' I, who am high in political favor, should live to read my shame. I, who now 'tower in my pride of place, should, by some mousing owl, be hawked at and killed.' No, I must burden my conscience yet a little longer."

The lady, with all a young girl's naÏve and beautiful enthusiasm, besought him to disregard popular praise and worldly distinction. "Seek first," said she, "the kingdom of heaven, and all things else shall be given you;" but the gentleman had grown hard in this world's devious wiles. He preferred throwing off his allegiance to Providence, and, single-handed and alone, making his fate. Talk to me of your thrifty men, your popular characters, and I instantly know that you mean a cringing, parasitical server of the populace; one who sinks soul, spirit and manly independence for the mere garments that cover his perishable body, and to whom the empty plaudits of the unthinking crowd are better music than the thankful prayer of suffering humanity. Let such an one, I say, have his full measure of the "clapping of hands," let him hear it all the while; for he cannot see the frown that darkens the brow of the guardian angel, who, with a sigh, records his guilt. Go on, thou worldly Pharisee, but the day will come, when the lowly shall be exalted. Trust and wait we longer. Oh, ye who "know the right, and yet the wrong pursue," a fearful reckoning will be yours.

But young master was not of this sort; I felt that his lips were closed from other and higher motives. If it had been of any avail, no matter what the cost to himself, he would have spoken. His soul knew but one sentiment, and that was "love to God and good will to men on earth." And now, as he entered the room where the doctor and the ladies were seated, and listened to their heartless conversation, he planted himself firmly in their midst, saying:

"Sisters, the time has come when I must speak. Patiently have I lived beneath this my father's roof, and witnessed, without uttering one word, scenes at which my whole soul revolted; I have heard that which has driven me from your side. On my bare knees, in the gloom of the forest, I have besought God to soften your hearts. I have asked that the dew of mercy might descend upon the hoary head of my father, and that womanly gentleness might visit your obdurate hearts. I have felt that I could give my life up a sacrifice to obtain this; but my unworthy prayers have not yet been answered. In vain, in vain, I have hoped to see a change in you. Are you women or fiends? How can you persecute, to the death, poor, ignorant creatures, whose only fault is a black skin? How can you inhumanly beat those who have no protectors but you? Reverse the case, and take upon yourselves their condition; how would you act? Could you bear silently the constant "wear and tear" of body, the perpetual imprisonment of the soul? Could you surrender yourselves entirely to the keeping of another, and that other your primal foe—one who for ages has had his arm uplifted against your race? Suppose you every day witnessed a board groaning with luxuries (the result of your labor) devoured by your persecutors, whilst you barely got the crumbs; your owners dressed in purple and fine linen, whilst you wore the coarsest material, though all their luxury was the product of your exertion; what think you would be right for you to do? Or suppose I, whilst lingering at the little spring, should be stolen off, gagged and taken to Algiers, kept there in servitude, compelled to the most drudging labor; poorly clad and scantily fed whilst my master lived like a prince; kept in constant terror of the lash; punished severely for every venial offence, and my poor heart more lacerated than my body;—what would you think of me, if a man were to tell me that, with his assistance, I could make my escape to a land of liberty, where my rights would be recognized, and my person safe from violence; I say what would you think, if I were to decline, and to say I preferred to remain with the Algerines?" He paused, but none replied. With eyes wonderingly fixed upon him, the group remained silent.

"You are silent all," he continued, "for conviction, like a swift arrow, has struck your souls. Oh, God!" and he raised his eyes upward, "out of the mouths of babes and sucklings let wisdom, holiness and truth proceed. Touch their flinty hearts, and let the spark of grace be emitted! Oh, sisters, know ye not that this Algerine captivity that I have painted, is but a poor picture of the daily martyrdom which our slaves endure? Look on that old woman, who, by a brutal blow from our father, has been deprived of her reason. Look at that little haggard orphan, Amy, who is the kicked football of you all. Look at the poor men whom we have brutalized and degraded. Think of Lindy, driven by frenzy to brave the passage to an unknown country rather than longer endure what we have put upon her. Gaze, till your eyes are bleared, upon that whipping-post, which rises upon our plantation; it is wet, even now, with the blood that has gushed from innocent flesh. Look at the ill-fed, ill-clothed creatures that live among us; and think they have immortal souls, which we have tried to put out. Oh, ponder well upon these things, and let this poor, wretched girl, who has sallied forth, let her go, I say, to whatever land she wishes, and strive to forget the horrors that haunted her here."

Again he paused, but none of them durst reply. Inspired by their silence, he went on:

"And from you, Miss Bradly, I had expected better things. You were reared in a State where the brutality of the slave system is not tolerated. Your early education, your home influences, were all against it. Why and how can your womanly heart turn away from its true instincts? Is it for you, a Northerner and a woman, to put up your voice in defence of slavery? Oh, shame! triple-dyed shame, should stain your cheeks! Well may my sisters argue for slavery, when you, their teacher, aid and abet them. Could you not have instilled better things into their minds? I know full well that your heart and mind are against slavery; but for the ease of living in our midst, enjoying our bounty, and receiving our money, you will silence your soul and forfeit your principles. Yea, for a salary, you will pander to this horrid crime. Judas, for thirty pieces of silver, sold the Redeemer of the world; but what remorse followed the dastard act! You will yet live to curse the hour of your infamy. You might have done good. Upon the waxen minds of these girls you might have written noble things, but you would not."

I watched Miss Bradly closely whilst he was speaking. She turned white as a sheet. Her countenance bespoke the convicted woman. Not an eye rested upon her but read the truth. Starting up at length from her chair, Miss Jane shouted out, in a theatrical way,

"Treason! treason in our own household, and from one of our own number! And so, Mr. John, you are the abolitionist that has sown dissension and discontent among our domestics. We have thought you simple; but I discover, sir, you are more knave than fool. Father shall know of this, and take steps to arrest this treason."

"As you please, sister Jane; you can make what report you please, only speak the truth."

At this she flew toward him, and, catching him by the collar, slapped his cheeks severely.

"Right well done," said a clear, manly voice; and, looking up, I saw Mr. Worth standing in the open door. "I have been knocking," said he, "for full five minutes; but I am not surprised that you did not hear me, for the strong speech to which I have listened had force enough to overpower the sound of a thunder-storm."

Miss Jane recoiled a few steps, and the deepest crimson dyed her cheeks. She made great pretensions to refinement, and could not bear, now, that a gentleman (even though an abolitionist) should see her striking her brother. Miss Tildy assumed the look of injured innocence, and smilingly invited Mr. Worth to take a seat.

"Do not be annoyed by what you have seen. Jane is not passionate; but the boy was rude to her, and deserved a reproof."

Without making a reply, but, with his eye fixed on young master, Mr. Worth took the offered seat. Miss Bradly, with her face buried in her hands, moved not; and the doctor sat playing with his half-filled glass of wine; but young master remained standing, his eye flashing strangely, and a bright crimson spot glowing on either cheek. He seemed to take no note of the entrance of Mr. Worth, or in fact any of the group. There he stood, with his golden locks falling over his white brow; and calm serenity resting like a sunbeam on his face. Very majestic and imposing was that youthful presence. High determination and everlasting truth were written upon his face. With one look and a murmured "Father forgive them, for they know not what they do," he turned away.

"Stop, stop, my brave boy," cried Mr. Worth, "stop, and let me look upon you. Had the South but one voice, and that one yours, this country would soon be clear of its great dishonor."

To this young master made no spoken reply; but the clear smile that lit his countenance expressed his thanks; and seeing that Mr. Worth was resolved to detain him, he said,

"Let me go, good sir, for now I feel that I need the woods," and soon his figure was gliding along his well-beloved path, in the direction of the spring. Who shall say that solitary communing with Nature unfits the soul for active life? True, indeed, it does unfit it for baseness, sordid dealings, and low detraction, by lifting it from its low condition, and sending it out in a broad excursiveness.

Here, in the case of young master, was a sweet and glowing flower that had blossomed in the wilds, and been nursed by nature only. The country air had fanned into bloom the bud of virtue and the beauty of highest truth.