The story of the negro

Agreeably to his promise, the old negro took an opportunity of relating his history. Our first surmise proved to be correct; he was indeed a runaway slave. Some years previously he and his family were sold to a new owner, who proved to be a cruel and unfeeling taskmaster, the very opposite in character to the former owner, who was a kind-hearted, mild disposed man. His wife was so affected by the change and hard usage, that she sunk into a desponding state, and eventually died, leaving him with a son and daughter. The cruel treatment evinced by their overseer towards the latter, a little girl then of ten years old, was a constant source of trouble and misery to the father, and eventually led to an open revolt. One day, when the brutality of this man was beyond all endurance, the father of the girl, in a fit of rage and disgust, struck his superior to the earth. Conscious of what he had done, and the fearful penalty attached to it, he fled frantically from the spot, whither he knew not. His feelings had been wound up to such a state of excitement, that he was scarcely conscious of what he was about; but he had soon left the scene of his suffering many miles distant. His son, it appeared, who was at a remote part of the plantation, hearing of the affair, fled after his father, and they eventually, after enduring numberless hardships, both succeeded in escaping; and notwithstanding the large rewards offered for their capture, they were never betrayed. His daughter he had learned nothing of for many years. He had endeavoured to rescue her soon after his escape from the hands of her tormentor, but did not succeed. Afterwards he learnt that she had left the plantation, and had been passed into the hands of a new master at another remote part of the country. She was dangerously ill at that time, and was not expected to recover. The poor old negro grew very mournful as he concluded his narrative. He had not heard of his daughter for so long a period that he seemed to think it improbable he should ever behold her again. His story, I remember, called forth a long discussion upon the horrors of slavery, the truth of which is now happily made sufficiently manifest, and so universally acknowledged, that it hardly needs repetition here.

On the following morning we parted with our two negro guides of the previous day, but it was with the greatest unwillingness that they could be persuaded to return to their home; eventually, however, we took leave of them after presenting them two or three remembrances for their kindness. We now journeyed on much the same as before, without any incident occurring worthy of notice, when, on the following day, we met with two English gentlemen, both naturalists, on their way to the forest, to collect specimens for the advancement of scientific knowledge. Their party comprised six, namely, themselves, two English attendants, and two negroes, whom they had purchased, with a promise of emancipation if they conducted themselves to their masters' satisfaction. These gentlemen were much delighted to meet with us, and agreed to journey our road, for the sake of company. I was much pleased with their society. I was soon made sensible of the advantages of a system in studying the works of nature. My senses had before been quite captivated and gratified with the general aspect of the scenes through which we had passed; but now I was taught to examine objects more closely and in detail; to compare, arrange, and, above all, to study the uses and purposes of vegetable and animal constituents, with their mechanical construction, tracing, in some measure, the designs of the Creator in all his works. I was now awakened to an intellectual gratification exceeding that of the mere senses. I learned how to collect and store up knowledge in the memory, which elevated my notions of the human species and considerably augmented my self-respect. The more I found opportunities to bring the intellect into play, the more apparent became the advantages which the civilized and cultivated man possessed over the mere savage or uninformed; and, in consequence, my delight in receiving instruction was unbounded.

Unlike myself, however, the gentlemen whom we accompanied did not appear to me to enjoy or appreciate my natural enthusiasm for varied scenery. They carried on their researches with surprising ardour; and when in pursuit of an abstract or particular object, their attention was wholly absorbed; nor were they in any way sparing of the lives of animals, birds, or insects, when selecting their specimens from the abundance before them. Their recklessness, too, in destroying what they considered obnoxious animals, somewhat surprised me, so much so as to induce me to enquire what caused them to have antipathies, like unto children and some females, especially against spiders, beetles, &c. The only answer I received was, "We destroy only such things as are of no use to us, and those which come in our way when in search of our object." They soon, however, explained to me that the reason of their shooting such a number of birds was that they were in want of all the varieties, and could not always distinguish, until they had them in hand, whether they had such a one amongst their collection.

To watch the young of animals, whether those species born with sight or closed eyes, and note their progress towards perfection, and the celerity with which some of them, birds especially, will remove themselves, even while unfledged, from danger to security, is to see God watching over all his creatures. To be near when the cry of danger is started in the wood, and hear the whole flock, though composed of different kinds of birds, each in their own peculiar note, cry "Hush!" to their young ones before they leave the nest,—to ascertain the cause, and then to have the satisfaction of removing that cause of danger,—is to be an agent of the Deity in the work of benevolence.

"All are agents," said one of the gentlemen, "in carrying out the benevolent purposes of the Deity. Direct your mind towards the various provisions which nature has devised for the dispersion, of the seeds of plants, and introducing them, into proper situations for germination. Every class of beings," he continued, "is useful as a means to promote the spread of seeds: man, beasts, birds, reptiles, and probably even fish, by consuming, cause the propagation of the algæ in the depths of the ocean; and the multiplied contrivances of hooks, awns, wings, &c., with the elastic and hygrometric power with which seeds are furnished, manifest what infinite provision has been made for the dispersion of seeds, and successive productions of nature."

It was thus that they would tutor me, and relieve the tedium of the day, by instilling into my youthful mind the first rudiments of a knowledge respecting the works of the Deity, and the uses to which they were applied; and I became aware of the wonders an all-bounteous Providence has in store for an enquiring mind.

The rattlesnake

But I now approach a period which proved an epoch in my existence. It was towards the evening of a very long and fatiguing day's journey, perhaps the most wearisome we had yet had, that we halted to refresh ourselves, and consult where we should bivouac for the night. We were all jaded, and scarcely knew how to proceed any further. My sister was reclining on a bank, and had, unobserved by us, fallen fast asleep, fairly overcome with the fatigues of the day. Her head was resting on a small package of tightly compressed woollen cloths. We had not noticed her for some minutes, when one of the gentlemen who accompanied us was the first to observe her dangerous situation. It was fortunate he did so. Taking my father by the arm, and leading him quietly away from the party, he directed his attention to my sister. My father stood almost petrified with fear and horror, on observing a large rattlesnake moving from side to side on my sister's chest. Upon the impulse of the moment, he was incautiously about to rush to her rescue; but was detained by his companion.

"I do not think it means any mischief," he whispered. "Make no noise, and I fancy it will merely cross your child's body, and go away."