Part 13

The poor man, well remembering his master's kindness, replied, "No, massa, me no leave you; you maintain me many years, me now try what I can do for you." Robert then went and procured employment as a day laborer, and regularly brought his earnings to his master; on which, though small, they managed to subsist for some time, until the law-suit was decided in the master's favor, and he thereby regained possession of a very considerable property.

Mindful of his faithful servant, one of his first acts was to settle an annuity upon him for the remainder of his life, sufficient to secure to the poor fellow the enjoyment of those comforts he had so well deserved. This little anecdote may afford instruction both to the nominal and professing Christian: let the former inquire, Should I have acted thus, if in a similar situation?

THE FAITHFUL NURSE.

FROM THE LADIES' MONTHLY MUSEUM.

In the dreadful earthquake which made such ravages in the island of St. Domingo, in the year 1770, a colored nurse found herself alone in the house of her master and mistress, with the youngest child, which she nursed. The house shook to its foundation. Every one had taken flight; she alone could not escape, without leaving her infant charge in danger.

She flew to the chamber, where it lay in the most profound sleep. At the moment the walls of the house fell in, anxious only for the safety of her foster child, she threw herself over it, and serving as a sort of arch, saved it from destruction. The child was indeed saved; but the unfortunate nurse died soon after, the victim of her fidelity.

COFFIN.

FROM DR. MOYES'S LECTURES.

During the late war a gentleman and his wife were going from the East Indies to England. His wife died on the passage, and left two infants, the charge of which fell to a colored boy about seventeen years of age. The gentleman, for some reason which I do not recollect, went on board the vessel of the commodore of the fleet in which they sailed. There came on a violent storm, and the vessel which the children were on board of was on the point of being lost.

They despatched a boat from the commodore's vessel, to save as many as they could. They had almost filled the boat, and there was room enough for the infants, or the negro boy. What did he do? He did not hesitate a moment, but put the children into the boat, and said, "Tell my master that Coffin has done his duty;" and that instant he was received into the bosom of the ocean, never more to return. The queen requested the celebrated poetess, Hannah Moore, to write an epic poem on it, but she wisely declined it, saying that no art could embellish so noble a sentiment.

JAMES DERHAM,

Originally a slave in Philadelphia, was sold by his master to a physician, who employed him in his shop as assistant in the preparation of drugs. During the war between America and England he was sold to a surgeon, and by that surgeon to Dr. Robert Dove, of New Orleans. He learned the English, French, and Spanish languages, so as to speak them with ease.

He was received a member of the English church; and in the year 1788, when he was about twenty-one years of age, he became one of the most distinguished physicians in New Orleans. "I conversed with him on medicine," says Dr. Rush, and "found him very learned. I thought I could give _him_ information concerning the treatment of diseases, but I learned more from him than he could expect from me."

The Pennsylvania Society, established in favor of the people of color, thought it their duty, in 1789, to publish these facts, which are also related by Dickson, page 184. In the Domestic Medicine of Buchan, and in a work of Duplaint, we find accounts of a cure for the bite of the rattlesnake. I know not whether Derham was its discoverer, but it is a well-known fact that one of his color did make such a discovery, for which he received, from the General Assembly of Carolina, his freedom and an annuity of a hundred pounds sterling.

THE AFRICAN PRINCE.

In the most flourishing period of the reign of Louis XIV. two African youths, the sons of a prince, being brought to the court of France, the king appointed a Jesuit to instruct them in letters and in the Christian religion; and gave to each of them a commission in his guards. The elder, who was remarkable for candor and ingenuousness, made great improvement, more particularly in the doctrines of religion.

A brutal officer, upon some dispute, insulted him with a blow. The gallant youth never so much as offered to resent it. A person who was his friend took an opportunity to talk with him that evening alone upon his behavior, which he told him was too tame, especially in a soldier. "Is there then," said the young African, "one revelation for soldiers, and another for merchants and gownsmen? The good father to whom I owe all my knowledge, has earnestly inculcated in me forgiveness of injuries; assuring me that a Christian was by no means to retaliate abuses of any kind."

"The good father," replied his friend, "may fit you for a monastery, by his lessons, but never for the army and the rules of a court. In a word," continued he, "if you do not call the colonel to an account, you will be branded with the infamy of cowardice, and have your commission taken from you." "I would fain," said the young man, "act consistently in every thing; but since you press me with that regard to my honor which you have always shown, I will wipe off so foul a stain; though I must own I gloried in it before."

Immediately upon this, he desired his friend to go from him and appoint the aggressor to meet him early in the morning. Accordingly, they met and fought, and the brave African youth disarmed his adversary, and forced him to ask his pardon publicly. This done, the next day he threw up his commission, and desired the king's leave to return to his father.

At parting, he embraced his brother and his friends, with tears in his eyes, saying that he had not imagined Christians to be so unaccountable a people; that he could not apprehend their faith could be of any use to them, if it did not influence their practice; and that, in his country, they thought it no dishonor to act according to the principles of their religion.

UNCLE HARRY.

FROM THE LITERARY AND EVANGELICAL MAGAZINE, 1824.

Late in the last autumn it was my privilege (says the author) to spend a few hours in the hospitable mansion of the Rev. S. B. W., of F. I arrived at his house very early in the morning, just before the family assembled to perform their customary devotions. On the signal being given, the children and domestics came into the room where we were sitting.

Among the latter, there was a very aged colored man, whom every one called Uncle Harry. As soon as he entered, I observed that Mr. W. and his lady treated him with marked attention and kindness. The morning was sharp and frosty, and Uncle Harry had a chair in the corner, close to the fire.

The portion of Scripture selected for the service was the second chapter of Luke. I observed that the attention of Harry was deeply fixed, and he soon began to manifest strong emotions. The old man's eye kindled as the reader went on, and when he came to the tenth verse, Harry appeared as though his heart was tuned to the angelic song, and he could hardly help uttering a shout of triumph.

There was not, however, the smallest ostentation of feeling, or endeavor to attract attention. He only, in a gentle manner, turned his face upward, strongly clasping his hands as they lay on his lap, and expressing by his countenance the joy of his heart. By this time he had interested me so highly that I could not keep my eyes from him.

I watched the varying expressions of his countenance, and saw that every word seemed to strike on his heart, and produce a corresponding emotion. I thought I would give the world, if I could _read_ the Bible just as Harry _heard_ it. While I was thinking, and looking on with intense interest, the reader came to the passage where old Simeon saw the infant Saviour, took him in his arms, blessed God, and said, "Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, for mine eyes have seen thy salvation."

Harry's emotion had become stronger and stronger, until the words just quoted were read, when he was completely overpowered. Suddenly turning on his seat, to hide as much as possible his feelings, he bent forward and burst into a flood of tears; but they were tears of joy. He anticipated his speedy peaceful departure and his final rest. This state of feeling continued during the remainder of the service, and when we rose from our knees, Uncle Harry's face seemed literally to have been bathed in tears.

As soon as we had risen, the old man came toward me with a countenance beaming with joy. "This," said Mr. W., addressing me, "is _Uncle Harry_." He reached out his hand and said: "Oh, why did my God bring me here to-day, to hear what I have heard, and see this salvation?" I asked: "Are you as ready to depart, Uncle Harry, as good old Simeon was, of whom we read in this chapter?" I shall never forget his look of humble, joyful submission, when he replied, "Just when it shall please my blessed Lord and Master." "You hope to go to heaven?" "Through divine mercy, I do." "What is the foundation of that hope?" "The righteousness of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ."

On perceiving that I wished to converse with the old man, Mr. W. said, with a kindness which showed that he recognized Harry as a Christian brother, and respected his age: "Come, take your seat again, Uncle Harry, and sit up near the fire." He accepted the invitation, and I entered into conversation, which afforded me higher pleasure than I ever enjoyed in the circles of fashion, beauty, wit and learning. I here send you some of the most interesting particulars.

"How old are you, Uncle Harry?" "Why, as nigh as I can tell, I am eighty-nine or thereabout." "Where were you born?" "At Port Tobacco, in Maryland." "And who had you to preach the gospel to you there?" "Ah, we had no preacher of the gospel there at that time." "Then it was after you left Port Tobacco that you embraced religion, was it?" "No, sir, it was while I lived there, and I will tell you how it was: A great many years ago there was one Dr. Whitefield, that travelled all through this country, preaching the gospel everywhere; I dare say you have heard of Dr. Whitefield, he was a most powerful preacher.

"Well, as I was saying, he went through Maryland, but his place of preaching was so far off that I did not hear of it until he was gone. But not long afterwards I met a man, an acquaintance of mine, who did hear him. He told me about the sermon; and what I heard opened my eyes to see that I was a poor lost sinner; and ever since that time I have been determined to seek Jesus as my Saviour, and to spend my life in His service."

Happy Whitefield! thought I, and greatly honored of thy Master, who has used thee as His instrument in saving so many souls. "But," said I, "how old were you then?" "Why, as nigh as I can guess, I was somewhere about sixteen or seventeen years old." "And have you never repented of this resolution?" "No, indeed, master; I have never repented of any thing, but that I have served my blessed Saviour so poorly."

"But have you not met many trials and difficulties by the way?" "Yes, indeed, master; but out of them all the Lord has delivered me; and having obtained help of God, I continue to this day: blessed be His name; He never will leave me or forsake me; I have good hope of that."

"Well, how did you obtain religious instruction where you lived, as you say there was no preacher of the gospel in the neighborhood?" "Why, by the mercy of my God, I learned to read the Bible; and that showed me the way to Jesus. But now I think of it, when the Roman Catholics heard that I was concerned about my soul, they sent for me, and tried hard to get me to join them.

"There was a priest at Port Tobacco, whose name was Mr. O'Neal; he talked to me a great deal. I remember he said to me one day, 'Harry, now you are concerned about your soul, you must come and join the Catholic church.' 'What for,' said I, 'Mr. O'Neal?' 'Because,' said he, 'it is the true church.' 'Then,' said I, 'if the Catholic church will lead me to Jesus, I will join it with all my heart, for that is all I want;' and Mr. O'Neal said, 'If you will join the church, I will warrant that you shall go to heaven.' 'How can you do that, Mr. O'Neal?' said I.

"Then he told me that a great many years ago our Saviour came into the world, and He chose twelve apostles, and made St. Peter their head; and the Pope succeeded St. Peter; and so all that join the Pope belong to the true church. 'Then,' said I, 'why, how do you know that, Mr. O'Neal?' 'Because,' said he, 'our Saviour told Peter, I give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven; and whatsoever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatsoever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.'

"And I said, 'The Lord knows how it is, Mr. O'Neal; I am a poor ignorant creature, but it always did seem to me that Peter was nothing but a man, like the other apostles;' but Mr. O'Neal said, 'No, he was the head and chief of the apostles; for our Saviour said again, Thou art Peter, and on this rock I will build My church; and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.' And I asked him, 'Now, do you think Peter was that rock, Mr. O'Neal?' He answered, 'To be sure he was;' and I said again, 'The Lord knows how it is; but it never did seem so to me.

"'Now I think it was just so--when Peter said, Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God, our Saviour told him, Thou _art Peter_,'" (while the old man repeated the words, _Thou art Peter_, he pointed his finger at me, and looked me directly in the face, but as soon as he began the following part of the quotation he brought his hand briskly down to his knee, saying with emphasis, as he looked at himself), "'and upon this rock will I build My church; and that rock was Christ; for it is written in another place, Behold, I lay in Zion a chief corner-stone, elect, precious; and he that believeth on Him shall not be confounded; and that corner-stone is Christ.'

"Then Mr. O'Neal said to me, 'Why, Harry, where did you learn that?' I said, 'From my Bible.' 'Oh!' said he, 'you have no business with the Bible; it will confuse and frustrate you.' But I said, 'It tells me of my Saviour.' Then a gentleman, who was sitting by, said, 'Oh! you might as well let him alone, Mr. O'Neal; you cannot make anything of him;' and from that time I never had any desire to join the Roman Catholics."

The narrative, of the truth of which I could not entertain a moment's doubt, showed a promptness of reply and an acquaintance with the Scriptures which truly surprised me, and I remarked, "I suppose, Uncle Harry, you take great pleasure in reading the Bible?" "Ah, master! when I could read, it was the pleasure of my life. But I am old now; and my book is so rubbed that the print is dim, and I can scarcely make out to read a word."

On this, Mr. W. said, "Well, Uncle Harry, you shall have a new Bible. Do you call on Mr. ----, when you go down town, and he will give you a new one from the Bible Society." Harry bowed, and expressed gratitude for the kindness, but did not manifest as much pleasure as I expected, considering how highly he professed to value the Bible. While I was wondering, and rather sorrowing on the account, I observed the old man to be feeling, with an air of embarrassment, in his pocket.

At length he pulled out an old tattered case, which appeared to have been long in use, and observed, "This new Bible will not be of much use to me, because my spectacles are so bad that they help me very little in reading." With that he opened his case, and showed a pair of spectacles of the cheapest sort, of which one glass was broken, and the other so scratched, that it was wonderful that he could see through it at all.

Mr. W. no sooner observed this than he said, "Well, Uncle Harry, you must have a new pair; do call at Mr. ----'s store, and tell him to let you have a pair suited to your age, and I will settle with him about it." On hearing this, Harry's eyes gleamed with joy, and he exclaimed, "Thank God! God bless you, master! Now I shall have comfort again in reading the Bible." And I never saw a happier, or a more grateful countenance.

Presently, he said the wagon would soon call for him to take him home, and he must go down town, and be getting ready: on which he again thanked his friend, and invoked a blessing on him and his family. He then affectionately and respectfully took me by the hand, and said, "I never saw you before, and I never shall see you again in this world; but I love you as a minister of my blessed Lord and Master, and I hope that I shall meet you in the house above. Remember and pray for poor old Harry."

I squeezed his hand, and assured him of my affectionate remembrance, and requested that he would pray for me, and for the preachers of the Gospel generally. "Oh!" said he, "may God Almighty bless all the dear ministers of Christ, and enable them to call many poor sinners to the dear Saviour! Oh! I do love to hear of souls coming to Christ; and it is my daily prayer--Thy kingdom come, and Thy will be done on earth, as it is done in heaven!" With that the old man took leave.

I confess that I have often since wished to see him and hold communion with him. There was about him a spirit of piety and benevolence, of humble zeal and fervent hope, of meekness and submission, which I have rarely seen equalled. At the same time, there was a degree of intelligence, an extent of religious knowledge, which, in his condition, really surprised and delighted me.

I saw here one of the triumphs of divine grace. I was made to appreciate the value and the excellence of that religion which could take a poor slave, and so transform him, that he was well nigh fitted to be a companion of saints in light, and of just men made perfect. And since I saw him, I have often prayed that after the days of my wandering shall be over, and all the sufferings of my life shall be endured, I may obtain a share in the rest, and a lot in the inheritance, which I have no doubt are prepared for Uncle Harry.

THE HOSPITABLE NEGRO WOMAN.

The enterprising traveller, Mungo Park, was employed by the African Association to explore the interior regions of Africa. In this hazardous undertaking, he encountered many dangers and difficulties. His wants were often supplied, and his distress alleviated, by the kindness and compassion of negroes. He gives the following lively and interesting account of the hospitable treatment he received from a poor negro woman:

"Being arrived at Sego, the capital of the kingdom of Bambarra, situated on the banks of the Niger, I wished to pass over to that part of the town in which the king resides; but from the number of persons eager to obtain a passage, I was under the necessity of waiting two hours. During this time the people who had crossed the river carried information to Mansong, the king, that a white man was waiting for a passage, and was coming over to see him.

"He immediately sent over one of his chief men, who informed me that the king could not possibly see me until he knew what had brought me into this country, and that I must not presume to cross the river without the king's permission. He therefore advised me to lodge, for that night, in a distant village, to which he pointed, and said that in the morning he would give me further instruction how to conduct myself. This was very discouraging. However, as there was no remedy, I set off for the village; where I found, to my great mortification, that no person would admit me into his house.

"From prejudices infused into their minds, I was regarded with astonishment and fear; and I was obliged to sit the whole day without victuals, in the shade of a tree. The night threatened to be very uncomfortable; the wind rose, and there was great appearance of a heavy rain. The wild beasts too were so numerous in the neighborhood, that I should have been under the necessity of climbing up a tree, and resting among the branches.

"About sunset, however, as I was preparing to pass the night in this manner, and had turned my horse loose, that he might graze at liberty, a negro woman, returning from the labors of the field, stopped to observe me; and perceiving that I was weary and dejected, she inquired into my situation. I briefly explained it to her; after which, with looks of great compassion, she took up my saddle and bridle, and told me to follow her. Having conducted me into her hut, she lighted a lamp, spread a mat on the floor, and told me I might remain there for the night.

"Finding I was very hungry, she went out to procure me something to eat; and returned in a short time with a very fine fish, which, having caused it to be half broiled upon some embers, she gave me for supper. The rites of hospitality being thus performed toward a stranger in distress, my worthy benefactress (pointing to the mat, and telling me I might sleep there without apprehension), called to the female part of her family, who had stood gazing on me all the while in fixed astonishment, to resume their task of spinning cotton; in which they continued to employ themselves a great part of the night.

"They lightened their labor by songs, one of which was composed extempore; for I was myself the subject of it. It was sung by one of the young women, the rest joining in a sort of chorus. The air was sweet and plaintive, and the words, literally translated, were these: 'The winds roared, and the rain fell. The poor white man, faint and weary, came and sat under our tree. He has no mother to bring him milk, no wife to grind his corn.' _Chorus_: 'Let us pity the white man; no mother has he to bring him milk, no wife to grind his corn.'[1]

"Trifling as these events may appear to the reader, they were to me affecting in the highest degree. I was oppressed by such unexpected kindness, and sleep fled from my eyes. In the morning, I presented to my compassionate landlady two of the four brass buttons which remained on my waistcoat; the only recompense it was in my power to make her."

FOOTNOTE:

[1] These simple and affecting sentiments have been very beautifully versified.

1. The loud wind roar'd, the rain fell fast, The white man yielded to the blast. He sat him down beneath the tree, For weary, sad, and faint was he: And ah! no wife's or mother's care, For him the milk or com prepare.

CHORUS.

The white man shall our pity share-- Alas! no wife's or mother's care For him the milk or corn prepare.

2. The storm is o'er, the tempest past, And Mercy's voice has hush'd the blast; The wind is heard in whispers low, The white man far away must go; But ever in his heart will bear Remembrance of the negro's care.

CHORUS.

Go, white man, go; but with thee bear The negro's wish, the negro's prayer, Remembrance of the negro's care.

GRATITUDE IN A LIBERATED SLAVE.

Some time in the year 1790 a member of the Manumission Society, residing on Golden Hill (now called John Street) in New York, observed, for a considerable time, his front porch to be scrubbed and sanded, every Seventh-day morning before the family were up. He ordered a servant to watch, and ascertain to whom he was indebted for this singular mark of kindness.

At an early hour in the morning a colored woman was observed with her pail, brush, cloth, soap and sand, carefully performing her accustomed task. The domestic who had been on the watch followed her home, and requested to know her inducements for performing this service. Her reply was, "Massa got me free, and I can do no less than scrub off the stoop." A gratitude so genuine and untainted is rarely found among the most polished and refined minds.