“Do you wish, and desire, and strive to keep his commandments?”
“Yes, massa, because me love him, and dat make me want to do as he say.”
“Are you willing to suffer for his sake, if God should call you to do so?”
“Me do tink me could die for de love of him: he not tink it too much to die for wicked sinner; why should wicked sinner tink it much to die for so goot and righteous a Saviour?”
“I think and hope I may say to you, William, ‘Thy faith hath made thee whole.’”
Thus ended my examination for the present. The other friends who were in the house listened with the most affectionate anxiety to all that passed. One of them observed, not without evident emotion—
“I see, sir, that though some men are white and some are black, true Christianity is all of one colour. My own heart has gone with this good man, every word he has spoken.”
“And so has mine,” gently re-echoed from every part of the room.
After some time passed in more general conversation on
the subject of the Negro’s history, I said, “Let us now praise God for the rich and unspeakable gift of his grace, and sing the hymn of redeeming love—