of the North where the people were all free, and where the colored race had so many and such true friends, and
wasmore delighted with her, and with the idea that I had found some of them than I could possibly have expressed in words.
At length while I was stumbling over the alphabet and trying to impress the different forms of the letters on my mind, an
old man with a cane and silvered hair walked in, and coming close to me inquired “Is this the girl mother of whom you spoke, mother?” and when she answered in the affirmative he said many words of kindness and encouragement to
me, and that though a slave I must be good and trust in God.
They were an aged couple, who for more than fifty years had occupied the same home, and who had shared together all the vicissitudes
of life—its joys and sorrows, its hopes and fears. Wealth had been theirs, with all the appliances of luxury, and they became
poor through a series of misfortunes. Yet as they had borne riches with virtuous moderation they conformed to poverty with
subdued content, and readily exchanged the splendid mansion for the lowly cottage, and the merchant’s desk and counting room
for the fields of toil. Not that they were insensible to the benefits or advantages of riches, but they felt that life had
something more— that the peace of God and their own consciences united to honor and intelligence were in themselves a fortune
which the world neither gave nor could take away.
They had long before relinquished all selfish projects and ambitious aims. To be upright and honest, to incumber neither public
nor private charity, and to contribute something to the happiness of others seemed to be the sum total of their present desires.
Uncle Siah, as I learned to call him, had long been unable to work, except at some of the lighter branches of employment,
or in cultivating the small garden which furnished their supply of exce[l]lent vegetables and likewise the simple herbs which
imparted such healing properties to the salves and unguents that the kind old woman distributed around the neighborhood.
Educated at the north they both felt keenly on the subject of slavery and the degradation and ignorance it imposes on one
portion of the human race. Yet all their conversation on this point was tempered with the utmost discretion and judgement,
and though they could not be reconciled to the system they were disposed to stand still and wait in faith and hope for the
salvation of the Lord.
In their morning and evening sacrifice of worship the poor slave was always remembered, and even their devout songs of praise
were imbued with the same spirit. They loved to think and to speak of all mankind as brothers, the children of one great parent,
and all bound to the same eternity.
Simple and retiring in their habits modest unostentatious and poor their virtues were almost wholly unknown. In that wearied
and bent old man, who frequently went out in pleasant weather to sell baskets at the doors of the rich few recognised the
possessor of sterling worth, and the candidate for immortality, yet his meek gentle smile, and loving words excited their
sympathies and won their regard.
How I wished to be with them all the time—how I entreated them to buy me, but in vain. They had not the means.
It must not be supposed that learning to read was all they taught me, or that my visits to them were made with regularity.
They gave me an insight to many things. They cultivated my moral nature. They led me to the foot of the Cross. Sometimes in
the evening while the other slaves were enjoying the banjo and the dance I would steal away to hold sweet converse with them.
Sometimes a morning walk with the other children, or an errand to a neighbors would furnish the desired opportunity, and sometimes
an interval of many days elapsed between my calls to their house.
At such times, however, I tried to remember the good things they had taught me, and to
wasmore delighted with her, and with the idea that I had found some of them than I could possibly have expressed in words.
At length while I was stumbling over the alphabet and trying to impress the different forms of the letters on my mind, an
old man with a cane and silvered hair walked in, and coming close to me inquired “Is this the girl mother of whom you spoke, mother?” and when she answered in the affirmative he said many words of kindness and encouragement to
me, and that though a slave I must be good and trust in God.
They were an aged couple, who for more than fifty years had occupied the same home, and who had shared together all the vicissitudes
of life—its joys and sorrows, its hopes and fears. Wealth had been theirs, with all the appliances of luxury, and they became
poor through a series of misfortunes. Yet as they had borne riches with virtuous moderation they conformed to poverty with
subdued content, and readily exchanged the splendid mansion for the lowly cottage, and the merchant’s desk and counting room
for the fields of toil. Not that they were insensible to the benefits or advantages of riches, but they felt that life had
something more— that the peace of God and their own consciences united to honor and intelligence were in themselves a fortune
which the world neither gave nor could take away.
They had long before relinquished all selfish projects and ambitious aims. To be upright and honest, to incumber neither public
nor private charity, and to contribute something to the happiness of others seemed to be the sum total of their present desires.
Uncle Siah, as I learned to call him, had long been unable to work, except at some of the lighter branches of employment,
or in cultivating the small garden which furnished their supply of exce[l]lent vegetables and likewise the simple herbs which
imparted such healing properties to the salves and unguents that the kind old woman distributed around the neighborhood.
Educated at the north they both felt keenly on the subject of slavery and the degradation and ignorance it imposes on one
portion of the human race. Yet all their conversation on this point was tempered with the utmost discretion and judgement,
and though they could not be reconciled to the system they were disposed to stand still and wait in faith and hope for the
salvation of the Lord.
In their morning and evening sacrifice of worship the poor slave was always remembered, and even their devout songs of praise
were imbued with the same spirit. They loved to think and to speak of all mankind as brothers, the children of one great parent,
and all bound to the same eternity.
Simple and retiring in their habits modest unostentatious and poor their virtues were almost wholly unknown. In that wearied
and bent old man, who frequently went out in pleasant weather to sell baskets at the doors of the rich few recognised the
possessor of sterling worth, and the candidate for immortality, yet his meek gentle smile, and loving words excited their
sympathies and won their regard.
How I wished to be with them all the time—how I entreated them to buy me, but in vain. They had not the means.
It must not be supposed that learning to read was all they taught me, or that my visits to them were made with regularity.
They gave me an insight to many things. They cultivated my moral nature. They led me to the foot of the Cross. Sometimes in
the evening while the other slaves were enjoying the banjo and the dance I would steal away to hold sweet converse with them.
Sometimes a morning walk with the other children, or an errand to a neighbors would furnish the desired opportunity, and sometimes
an interval of many days elapsed between my calls to their house.
At such times, however, I tried to remember the good things they had taught me, and to
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