THE EARNEST LABORER;
OR,
MYRTLE HILL PLANTATION
This is an annotated text of The Earnest Laborer; or, Myrtle Hill Plantation, published by Sunday School Union in 1864. The author is unknown. Original spelling, punctuation and page citations have been retained; minor typographic errors have been corrected.
This electronic edition has been prepared for the Antislavery Literature Project, Arizona State University, a public education project working in cooperation with the English Server, Iowa State University. Digitization has been supported by a grant from the Institute for Humanities Research, Arizona State University.
Editorial annotation and proofing by Joe Lockard. Annotation
research by April Brannon. Digitization by Noel Borde, Mahesh Bhutkar,
Nilesh Ralbhat, and Manoj Salvi at NetConnect India. All rights reserved by
the Antislavery Literature Project. Permission for non-commercial educational
use is granted.
INTRODUCTION
The Earnest Laborer, or, Myrtle Hill Plantation, is a juvenile novel published by an anonymous author in 1864. While a work of fiction, it sought to gain credibility by representing itself as “being sketches and incidents drawn from the experience of a school teacher.” The accuracy of this claim remains unknown. The novel’s New York publisher, Carlton and Porter, printed this and other juvenile novels for the Sunday School Union.
The Union had been founded as the Sunday and Adult School Union in 1817 in Philadelphia as a non-demoninational missionary society, and in 1824 changed its title to the American Sunday School Union. The Union had as its goal establishing a Sunday school in every American town and it produced massive amounts of juvenile literature for distribution throughout the United States.[1] The Sunday School Union was slow to challenge slavery, since it had pro-slavery Southern officers and relied on the white Southern public for financial support of its activities.[2] However, by the late 1850s both it and the American Tract Society sided with moderate antislavery politics and their publications began to attract censorship in Southern states.[3]
The novel tells the story of George Freeman, a Connecticut-born young teacher, beginning with his developing religious inclination from boyhood. He receives notice and encouragement from his Sunday school superintendent, Mr. Ela. From a family of modest means and lacking funds to continue his college education, George takes a tutor’s position on the Myrtle Hill plantation somewhere in the Mississippi Valley, teaching the five children of the plantation owner, Mr. Walter Craig. Gradually, George introduces a new spirit of evangelical Christianity and Sabbath observance into plantation life and the surrounding area.
He begins a Sunday school that leads towards moral reform among both whites and blacks. A religious revival takes place in this rural area that, by advocating bible-reading for personal salvation, confronts the limits of what a slave society can accommodate. The novel’s moderate and gradualist antislavery advocacy emerges slowly, describing slavery as a manifestation of spiritual rot: “While the Spirit of God was thus at work, the demon of slavery was rousing to his customary work of evil against the ripening spiritual harvest-field.” (120) A revolution against slavery, the novel suggests by using the story of Moses in Egypt (60ff.), must first be bible-centered and spiritual.
Racial stereotyping characteristic of some antislavery literature accompanies this religious didacticism. A mulatto carpenter, Yellow Jim, exhibits the most visible intelligence, personal resistance to slavery, and speaks in white idiom and accent. An old black slave, Uncle Simeon, is faithful, subservient, and highly religious. The author has little use for black culture, describing religious progress, for example, in such terms as “The senseless songs of the quarters, so long, heard mingled with the noise of the rude dance, were exchanged for the sweet and melting songs of Zion.” (92-93) Working-class white Southern culture receives equal scorn. Melville, a poor white teenager who joins George’s revival, exemplifies potential class mobility; through learning religious virtues, he eventually goes on to receive an education in the North. The author comments pejoratively on and suggests a shared general opprobrium against poor whites, writing “when, as was often the case, [whites] were poor, and very wicked, and quite as ignorant as themselves, [blacks] esteemed them as they were truly, ‘poor white trash.’” (93-94)
Unlike many antislavery stories, this novel – likely in part because of its intended juvenile audience – describes plantation life as generally lacking in violent incidents. It mentions only briefly one proposed slave sale that would separate a mother and son. Myrtle Hill plantation is a site of spiritual lapse and disorganization; the revival works to improve relations between parents and children, and effects beneficial changes for both masters and slaves. According to this story, there is a unity of interests between masters and slaves in joining a shared spiritual revival.
The novel construes opposition, support, or active participation among slave-owners to religious education for slaves as indicative of social liberalism or illiberality. It is the wrong-headed master such as Mr. Craig who keeps religious instruction from his slaves, and the enlightened one such as Judge Walker who assists religious learning but finds himself forced to comply with the slave system. The most religiously enlightened slave-owner, a minister named Father Clifton, lets his slaves hire their own labor towards self-purchase; unable to live with the system, he eventually leaves the South together with his slaves in order to free them.
Each converted soul, whether the aged anti-religious slave Uncle Griffen who collaborates with his master Mr. Craig against revival meetings, or the slave-owner ‘Yankee Smith’ who repents before he dies, brings the end of slavery closer. The overthrow of plantation slavery, in this view, will be the triumph of true Christianity. Any distinguishable interests between master and slave are temporal, not spiritual. Abolitionism is thus the achievement of a new pan-racial spiritual harmony. A newly-built Sunday-school and abolitionism come to be conflated, and so the school is shut down.
The novel concludes with the successful escape of two slaves to the North and, as the public attributes blame for their flight to George Freeman’s teachings and the local religious revival, his forced return to his Connecticut home. Arriving there George meets the pair of fugitives, who have followed the Underground Railroad and fortuitously taken refuge with his parents. George goes on to complete college and join the ministry, where he employs his three years spent at the Myrtle Hill plantation as an example of evangelism’s power and advocates for the abolition of slavery.
The anonymous author portrays the institution of slavery as a barrier to the realization of genuine religious life and the path of evangelism. As George Freeman says, “The necessities of slavery do forbid obedience to God’s commands. In the Scriptures is eternal life. God has said, Search them. Slavery interposes a barrier to the direct access of the slave to this divine treasury.” (160) The novel’s preoccupation lies in a story of evangelical missionary work among both blacks and whites; its antislavery theme derives from a young Northerner’s missionary engagement with social evil and patient conversion of all members of a slave society. For Sunday school students, the moral message here was that in order to be a ‘freeman’ one needed to embrace evangelical Christianity and its salvational theology.
— Joe Lockard
CONTENTS.
_________________
Chapter Page
I. Childhood’s Home 7
II. A Great Change 11
III. Beginning Well 16
IV. College 21
V. Myrtle Hill Plantation 26
VI. The Forest School 33
VII. The Play-Ground 38
VIII. Sunday on Myrtle Hill Plantation 46
IX. An Experiment 59
X. Difficulties Overcome 70
XI. Encouraging Indications 81
XII. The Young Laborer 88
XIII. Myrtle Hill Excited 98
XIV. Father Clifton 106
XV. The Ripening Harvest 112
XVI. Precious Fruit 121
Chapter Page
XVII. The Surprise 137
XVIII. The Slave Mother’s Anguish 146
XIX. Wicked Demands 153
XX. The Escape 161
XXI. The Dear Old Home 168
_____________
Illustrations.
_____________
The Minister’s Call 2
Gelia Teaching the Negroes 68
The Visit to Deer Run 126
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THE EARNEST LABORER;
OR
MYRTLE PLANTATION
--------------------------------------------------
CHAPTER 1.
CHILDHOOD’S HOME.
The father of George Freeman was a farmer living in a quiet town on the banks of the Connecticut river. He was not of rich, neither did he know the sorrows of poverty. He was content to earn his daily bread by an honest industry. But Solomon Freeman was more than an honest and an industrious man. He was sincerely and earnestly pious. The incense of prayer had ascended morning and evening from his family altar from the day that he became the head of a family. His exactness in the performance of this duty was proverbial among his neighbors. Neither the press of business nor unusual weariness,
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nor even the presence of irreligious friends or strangers, caused its omission.
Mr. Freeman was equally exact in his attendance upon the public service of God's House, and the regular social worship of the Church with which he was connected. The faithfulness of Mr. Freeman's performance of the duty of secret prayer could be known only by the general consistency of his Christian character. But there was one fact of his history which was noticed and remembered by his children. He always quietly retired, after his midday meal, to his chamber for a short time. This practice was uniform, and carried through a long life, so that it made a deep impression upon the minds of his family. They did not need to be told that he had retired from the confusion of worldly care to spend a few moments in communion with God.
The piety of Mr. Freeman was ever cheerful, aided it may be in this respect by a naturally hopeful disposition. But he seldom forgot what became the man of God amid the pleasures of social intercourse.
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We need not say more in this place of Mrs. Freeman than that she was a Christian woman, worthy of her excellent husband. Her character may be judged by the children whom she gave to the Church.
George, whose history in part we propose to sketch, was the oldest child. Five other children made a family which taxed, for its support, the industry and good management of the parents. George had lived to be nearly sixteen years of age before anything had occurred in his history of marked interest. His time had been divided from his twelfth year between labor on the farm and the brief school privileges of the summer and winter. He had now begun to manifest a decided ambition in the pursuit of knowledge. His school books for the preceding season had not been laid aside at the close of the winter school. They were taken up during his spare moments through, the summer, and when the winter school commenced again he astonished his teacher and schoolmates by his proficiency. His ambition was much quickened by the commendation, which he received,
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and before midwinter he had, in his own mind, formed large plans for future study. In fact, the inclination to become a student, which he had for some time been cultivating, now took a definite form. The future to George Freeman was full of inspiring interest, as he bent over his book at the early morning and late evening hours.
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CHAPTER II.
A GREAT CHANGE.
It was a clear cold day in the winter of which we were speaking that Mr. Parsons, Mr. Freeman's pastor, called at his residence.* It was apparent to Mr. Freeman and to his wife that their minister had some special communication to make to them; and, as there was perfect freedom between the pastor and this family of his flock, he was not long in making known his errand.
"I perceive," he remarked, "that George has become quite ambitious in his studies of late."
"Yes," replied Mr. Freeman; "the leisure of the summer has been given to his books."
"Ah!" said Mr. Parsons with some animation, "that explains what I learned from his teacher this morning. He says he has made astonishing advancement
* See Frontispiece.
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since last winter. I have strong hopes of your son's future usefulness."
"I gave him to God at his birth," suddenly interposed Mrs. Freeman; and she added decidedly, "George will be a minister of the Gospel."
"But he is not pious," said Mr. Parsons seriously.
"I know it," replied the mother, "but Mr. Freeman and I have prayed for his conversion every morning at a stated hour since God gave him to us, and he is about to answer our prayers."
Mr. Parsons's countenance brightened at this unexpected expression of confidence in the revival of the work of God. The interview closed with prayer, and he returned home to finish his preparation for the Sabbath with an increased faith in the divine aid.
The winter wore away, and the school term closed. The interest of George in his studies was unabated, but he was now much more engaged in the work of the farm. Arrangements had been made for him to attend an academy in a neighbor-
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ing town. The sacrifice that his father would make in dispensing with his assistance during the summer George well understood and deeply felt. He was keenly alive to the welfare of others, and it was therefore much easier for him to confer favors than to receive them. The thought of not only leaving his father to perform alone the farm work of the summer, but of being an expense to him for board, books, and tuition, was very unpleasant. Having been early taught self-reliance, he began to devise some way to pursue his studies without this expense. His pastor's assistance he could not ask, for he had the care pressing upon him of a large family, in addition to his pastoral duties. After much study a thought suddenly broke upon his mind. "I have it," he exclaimed earnestly to himself; "I'll have the arrangement made this very night."
That evening found George in close conversation with a former playmate, some years older than himself, who lived about a mile from his father's house. "He had been one year in college, but proposed,
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on account of ill health, to spend a year at home. He had no objections that George should begin the study of Latin and Greek under his instruction. It would keep the rules fresh in his own mind, and help to pass away time which was likely to hang heavily on his hands. The arrangement was made, and needed only the approval of George's parents. This, it may be supposed, he readily obtained. This was George's first effort in self-denying labor, and it proved of great advantage to him. It was the spring of much future usefulness. Without interrupting any necessary attention to his studies, he was able to render his father valuable assistance every day.
But a larger benefit arose from this step than could have been anticipated by either the parents or the son. The Church had become much quickened by the Holy Ghost; the confessions of God's people when they met together became more full and earnest, and their prayers more definite and believing. The Spirit strove with George, and he became a professed inquir-
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er after personal salvation. When the peace from assured forgiveness of sin began to be revealed to his mind, the true purpose and end of life appeared as it had never done before. Scholarship, and distinction as a teacher, had been the end of his ambition. Life now seemed made for a nobler purpose. He felt that he ought to glorify God in his life. And this did not appear as a cold duty, but a high privilege, for which, by grace, he felt a warm congeniality of feeling. He studied with increased ardor and with much more satisfaction.
The incense of prayer from the family altar of Solomon Freeman arose with more than usual thanksgiving and praise. It had a meaning to George which he had not before understood. He wondered that it had been to him so much of a form. He could now in some measure understand why his father had so rigidly maintained it, and he devoutly thanked God for such parents and such a home, and inwardly resolved that its principles should be the guide of his life.
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CHAPTER III.
BEGINNING WELL.
The obligation to be a Christian which George was now trying to meet he had early felt. When he was only eight years of age the Spirit strove in a special manner with him. He then saw clearly that he was a sinner; and at one time, under the influence of this conviction, he went into the field of new made hay, and behind one of the haystacks, away from the sight of men, he kneeled down and prayed God to forgive his sins. The Saviour, who is never afar off when the penitent heart cries unto him, even then appeared with the comforts of his presence; and now that these feelings had been revived, he felt as he could not, or certainly as he did not feel in childhood, the importance of cultivating them by all the means which God had provided for a growth in grace. Happily George had been trained to give at least a formal attention to religious duties. More
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than a formal attention he could not give while his heart remained unchanged. Now he could engage in them with a devotional feeling. They were no longer mere duties, but precious privileges.
George had a spiritual guide in his Sabbath-school superintendent, Mr. Ela, as well as in his pastor and his parents.
"We have work for you," remarked Mr. Ela to George, in his quiet way, at the close of a Sabbath-school session. "Young men who have been so long receiving instruction should begin to impart some of their knowledge."
"Why, Mr. Ela," replied George, "I have only just begun to learn."
Mr. Ela smiled at this remark, but without regarding it, said, "Several children have been added to the school to-day. There they are," he continued, pointing to five very uninviting looking lads who occupied a settee in one corner of the room. "They were never in a Sunday-school before. They have been added to the school by the solicitations of two faithful ladies, and now it is your part to teach
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them. God requires young Christians to work in his vineyard. I shall depend upon your services next Sabbath."
This was said in a familiar and kind manner, but in a tone of serious earnestness which forbade refusal. Mr. Ela walked away, and left George in severe conflict of mind. It seemed to him that his teacher had never explained the word of God as he had done that day. The interest he felt in learning its truth was unlike the interest he had felt in books of amusement only; it was a deeper and more satisfactory interest. He felt that this profit of learning would be lost if he became a teacher. But in this he found himself mistaken. The study to which he was prompted in order to teach wonderfully quickened his own mind. Besides, God directly blessed his labor of love, so that after a few Sabbaths' teaching he was convinced that he was in the best way of obtaining religious knowledge.
But the intelligence and piety of Mr. Ela soon provided another means by which George's position as a teacher was made
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one of still greater religious improvement. He had long seen the necessity of a better preparation of the teachers for their work; and as the evenings were becoming longer, and the people less busy with the work of the farms, he proposed to form a "teacher-class," to meet on Wednesday evening at his residence, for the purpose of studying the lessons to be taught the following Sabbath. To this the teachers readily agreed, and chose Mr. Ela their instructor. To George it became a kind of theological school. The maps and Bible dictionaries which its teacher freely used made the lessons deeply interesting. The discussion which grew out of the lessons impressed them upon his mind. His Sabbath scholars too derived great benefit from these Wednesday evening meetings, in the preparation it afforded him to teach them. Their teacher's stimulated interest increased their attachment to the school.
"John," remarked one of his scholars as the class were retiring," my father thought
that George Freeman was too young to
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teach us boys; but I think he knows as much as a minister."
"So do I," was the quick reply. "And I mean to get a lot of boys to join our class, for I know they'll like it. There's Henry Jones; he's not been to Sunday-school this long time. He left because he said his teacher did not know, half the time, where the lesson was; I guess that our teacher can tell where the lesson is and what it means too."
George's interest was increased by the evident improvement of his scholars, and both teacher and class became busy in adding to its members. They obtained several from the too often large list of "lost scholars," and a few from the "highways and hedges."
Such were some of the fruits of a good beginning in the Christian life.
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CHAPTER IV.
COLLEGE.
A little over two years of severe study, relieved by some hard but healthy work upon the farm, had given George, in the estimation of his teachers, a fair preparation for college. The last six months had been spent in a neighboring academy, where his character and scholarship had won for him the esteem of all. The arrangements for commencing a college life were nearly completed. The son, quite as much as the father, was in constant study to make the expenses as light as possible. The means of Solomon Freeman were small, but his desire to have his son fitted for the most extensive usefulness was that of a truly pious man. Yet if George had not learned to economize this small means his education could not have been secured.
"You intend to board yourself, I think,"
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remarked Mr. Freeman the evening before George's departure.
"Yes," replied George. “That is not uncommon with poor students."
"And," added his father, smiling, "you will need to obtain a roommate as poor as yourself to make his society pleasant."
"That will not be difficult," said George, "and such a one will not be likely to be a drone in his studies. We shall be agreed to live plainly and study hard."
"Your mother," continued Mr. Freeman, “has, I am sure, made the best use possible of the materials we can command for your clothing outfit and for the furnishing of your room."
"Of that I am sure too," thought George, recollecting how busy she had been, both night and day, for weeks past.
A few plain articles of furniture, which she could but poorly spare, had been varnished, and made to look as well as possible. His trunk had been quietly and thoughtfully packed. A mother's blessing upon her departing son was breathed in her every act. While George's thoughts
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were thus wandering away upon his mother, Mr. Freeman had been silent. His thoughts too were busy. "I have one thing to enjoin upon you, George," he suddenly exclaimed, starting up.
"What is that, father?”
"Let not the necessities of poverty cause you to injure, by over study or labor, your health."
A timely warning, which George better understood in after years.
Two years of college life were sufficient to test severely his power of enduring constant exertion and rigid economy. He taught school during the winter months, and spent the summer vacation in work upon the farm. His tuition at college had been paid by an uncle whose name he bore and whose means were ample. When, therefore, he received a note from this uncle saying, under the convenient plea of "hard times," that he could not continue this favor, George's perplexity was great. It did not relieve him any to know that Uncle George could continue to himself and family every extravagant indulgence.
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After much thought and prayer, George resolved to embrace the first favorable opportunity to spend a year or two in teaching. Such an opportunity was soon presented. It was an application, through a student of the extreme South-west, for a friend's family in that section.
"I regret," wrote his father, in answer to a letter asking advice in reference to his plans, "that I cannot make it possible for you to remain in college until you graduate. The aid that your uncle has withdrawn is just the amount more than, we can honestly provide; your mother and I therefore reluctantly give our consent to your proposed engagement to teach at the South for a year or two. The money for your outfit and journey may be safely borrowed on the guarantee of your salary. We trust that God's good providence is in this unexpected enterprise, and that it will all be for the best." This last expression, "it will all be for the best," was frequently used by George's parents. "What a conquest," he exclaimed as he laid down the letter "have my dear parents achieved
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over their feelings, to enable them to say, in this case, 'It's all for the best.' I know well how great a sacrifice to them this separation will be."
George hastened home to get ready for his departure. There were kind words spoken, and careful preparations made by busy hands and loving hearts during those few never forgotten days; and then, amid prayers and tears, the much-loved son and brother took his leave of a home to whose influence he owed a manly and Christian fitness for a home among strangers.
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CHAPTER V.
MYRTLE HILL PLANATION
The arrival of the new teacher on Myrtle Hill plantation in the far South was a marked occasion, both with the servants, and with the children whom George was to teach.
"I know he's a mighty fine man," remarked Aunt Ann, the cook, who had just passed his supper into the dining-room. A little knot of servants have gathered about her to learn her first impressions of the stranger.
Aunt Ann was an oracle of wisdom with her friends, especially in her opinions of "white folks." When, therefore, she declared that George was "mighty fine," it became a key-note to the remarks of the whole kitchen company.
"Reckons," said Jordan, who lay stretched upon a long bench, quite to the annoyance of the cook, "reckons massa's children have a smart chance to larn dis
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time; only jest they is so shockin' lazy they never 'proves no privileges. Massa better, nuff sight, send de young massas into de cotton field and let dis boy get de larnin'."
This effort of Jordan's pleasantry caused a merry but suppressed laugh, which was arrested by the decided tone of Aunt Ann, who replied, "Jordan aint nobody! Let Yellow Jim have de new teacher's sarvices, and I reckons dare'll be somethin' done."
The appearance of Aunt Maria, the stewardess, gave a sudden check to the talk; Maria was the mother of Yellow Jim, of whom we shall learn more by and by.
Maria was about equally removed in her position from her fellow-slaves and the mistress. She moved with the dignity of one having authority among the former, but suffered much from the arbitrary will of the latter.
Maria gave the chambermaid orders concerning the teacher's room without offering any remarks concerning him. But Aunt Ann ventured to say, when Ma-
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ria had returned to the house, that she was "special pleased with the teacher."
While those in and about the mansion of Myrtle Hill were indulging in a curious scrutiny of the new teacher, his own feelings were both new and strange. In the sail down the Ohio and Mississippi rivers he had been intensely interested. The ride on horseback from the landing, about twenty miles, was scarcely less so. And now for the first time he began to realize the peculiarities of his situation, and that he was indeed "away from home." The plantation had been made by "a clearing" in a vast forest, by which it was surrounded. The mansion of the owner was approached through fields now white with cotton. He had seen large numbers of slaves in the fields; —slaves had met him at the mansion to usher him in, a slave had waited upon him at the table, and a slave had directed him to his sleepingroom. His employer, Mr. Craig, and his wife, had given him a formal welcome; and their children, consisting of three boys and two girls, though embar-
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rassed, had expressed a more decided cordiality.
"Here then I am," George remarked to himself when quietly seated in his own room, "surrounded by snow white fields of cotton, by negro slaves, and by favored and perhaps spoiled children of slave masters. I am at present at home in duty, and must try, at least, to be so in feeling."
George did not fail, though weary, to seek before retiring, by fervent prayer, a blessing upon his new field of labor.
The next morning Mr. Craig and his family were more at ease, and there was a mutual good feeling manifested.
"What are your first impressions of our sunny South?" was the rather embarrassing question of Mrs. Craig.
"I have seen," replied George, "but little of society here, and can of course form no opinion of it; but if your people are as excellent as your rivers are noble and as your forests are grand, and if I shall enjoy the society as much as I have the beauties of nature since I left the land-
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ing, I shall esteem it a privilege to be here."
"All in good keeping, sir," interposed Mr. Craig in a decided manner. "Our country is nature's garden, and our society is the first in the world."
Allowing me, thought George, to except my own New England; but he ventured no reply, only querying whether Mr. Craig could be in earnest.
"You'll find my boys," said Mr. Craig, rather abruptly changing the conversation, "sad rogues; but you must tame them down, for they have played enough, and must study this year."
The boys looked confused at this unexpected introduction; but without noticing this, Mr. Craig turned to the girls and said, "as to these little plagues, they are worse than the boys, I do believe."
It was evident to George that Mr. Craig was an indulgent father, fond of saying smart but unmeaning things to his children.
"My scholars and I," he replied, "will be good friends I am sure."
"I dare say," remarked Mr. Craig,
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evidently pleased with the teacher's spirit and reply. "And I think," she added, "you'll find our children good children."
When the breakfast was finished Mr. Craig remarked in his direct way, "my friend at the college wrote that he had sent a pious teacher; I suppose you have been used to family prayers. I have no objections to a prayer in the morning."
It was not often that prayer had been offered in this family, but it was received by all, especially the servants, with evident respect. Every person in and about the room reverently kneeled, a practice that George afterward learned was, on such occasions, customary throughout that section of country.
"Didn't I tell you he was the right sort," said Aunt Ann in a triumphant spirit, when Fielding, the table boy, told her of the strange occurrence. "Hopes," continued Aunt Ann, "Massa won't swear 'fore as ever Mr. Freeman gets out of hearin'."
"Do you know, Ann, why I like Mr.
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Freeman?" inquired Yellow Jim, with a quick and intelligent flash of his eye.
"Why," answered Ann archly, "s'pose it's cause ye cotched my 'pinion of him."
"No," said Jim, "it's because he's got the right name."
"Hi, now you Jim!" said Ann, "you are allers talkin' like o' that."
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CHAPTER VI.
THE FOREST SCHOOL.
The Monday following George's arrival at Myrtle Hill his labors in teaching commenced. A few rods from the dwelling-house, and just within the shade of the forest, stood the school-house. It was situated on a gentle swell of land, at the foot of which, and a little further among the trees, was a small and ever running stream, The school-house was built of logs. Openings between the logs on two sides answered instead of windows. Planed boards placed lengthwise, and in a slanting position directly under these openings, formed the desks. A large and crudely made fireplace was an excellent substitute for the New England stove. Rough seats for the scholars, and a table and chair for the teacher, completed the furnishing for the forest school-house. Its location, with the constant presence of singing birds, the not unfrequent chirping
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of the large gray squirrel, and the occasional sound of the quick jump of the timid rabbit, rendered it a delightful spot.
James, the oldest scholar, was seventeen years of age; Edwin about fifteen; May thirteen; Angelin, or "Gelia" as she was familiarly called, was eight; and Frank, or "Frankie," just old enough to be entertained rather than taught in school. He was not quite four. With these the teacher was expected to spend seven hours daily of diligent labor. It was not difficult for him to find employment every moment of this time, for every lesson of each scholar was recited separately.
The daily order of the school was soon learned both by teacher and scholars; but the dispositions, and the proper management of the minds to be trained, and the hearts to be cultivated, were not soon learned. A glance at each scholar will exhibit, in a degree, the difficult task which devolved upon the young teacher.
James was quiet, generally teachable,
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slow to learn, and sometimes exceedingly obstinate.
Edwin was generous, excitable, often angry at the slightest provocation, but soon appeased, and frank in the acknowledgment of his errors. He learned with great ease and rapidity when he gave attention to his books. This, however, was not often. It was a source of vexation to James that Edwin, by an occasional glance at them, was quite as ready for a recitation as he was after diligent application.
May possessed many of the aspirations of the young lady with the simplicity of the girl. Gelia was as lively as the morning birds, ready for a run in the woods or a frolic with her brothers. Little Frankie was the petted friend of all, a great annoyance to the study hours, and the merry idol of the play time.
"How shall I meet the wants of this little group of restless minds?" mused George soon after the close of an afternoon session in which he had exhausted his powers of body and mind. A train of discour-
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aging thoughts were pressing upon him, when his reverie was happily interrupted. His scholars, save Frankie, came shouting up the school-house hill, and rushed into the school-room.
"Ho! Mr. Freeman," exclaimed Edwin, panting for breath. Edwin was chief speaker when, the group had any request to urge upon the teacher. "Do, Mr. Freeman, please play with us. We want something new." He emphasized the last word in a manner which showed how monotonous their round of amusements, had become.
"O do." added May, "for I have heard that the New England children have a heap of plays."
"They have many plays," answered George quietly," but not many more than you do, even here on the plantation, nor very different."
The children looked disappointed.
"Well now, Mr. Freeman," persisted May, "you can make a play."
"O yes," chimed in Gelia, "teachers can do a heap of things."
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Now, thought George, here is a way to the heads and hearts of the children of which I have not thought. I wonder I have not. If I can successfully direct their plays I can better guide their studies. I will try. He pacified the impatience of his scholars, and promised to direct their amusements at the close of the next day.
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CHAPTER VII.
THE PLAY- GROUND
The grounds around the school-house had a great variety of surface: abrupt mounds, sharp ridges, between which were pleasant rivulets, and, occasionally, openings of level surface free from trees. It lacked but one thing in aid of the plan which George had conceived for the amusement of his pupils. There were no rocks, either large or small.
The little company pressed closely upon the steps of George as he led them, in a walk of examination, about the grounds.
"Now do please tell us what the play is to be," said Gelia hurriedly. "I want a real run."
"You ought to be ashamed to be so much like a boy," said May sharply.
"Here," said the teacher, coming to a quiet pond of water about two rods wide and several times as long —"here we have an ocean, and we will see how much
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of the map of the world we can lay out in the grounds around it."
"O is that it!" exclaimed Gelia in a lively tone.
James expressed a decided interest in the suggestion. Edwin looked coldly upon the scheme. It seemed to him too much like study. He preferred Gelia's "real run."
"I think," remarked George, "that, by damming up the brook which runs from the pond, and thus flowing the plain just beyond, we shall extend our ocean many times its present length. But before we do that we must make some mounds of earth, which shall be our islands when the water surrounds them."
The scholars began to catch the idea, and to enter into the plan with much spirit. George examined the grounds carefully, and taxed his ingenuity to shape
them into such a form that, by the exercise of some imagination, of which the children had much, it might represent the two hemispheres, and the water represent the intervening Atlantic Ocean, with
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islands scattered here and there. By taking advantage of the rolling surface some distance up the brook which fed the pond, streams could, he thought, be made to run into it in several places. The plan was unfolded to the scholars, and work enough laid out for the playtime of several weeks. It included an ocean, continents, rivers, islands, lakes, bays and inlets, with hills and mountains. The school maps were studied for the perfection of the arrangement, and even Gelia became a critic on the fitness of the several representations. Frankie was quite an officious manager. He floated his tiny boats down the stream, and brought contempt upon the rivers by jumping over them.
The fame of this amusement spread through the plantation. The servants offered their aid in completing the laborious part of the work. Mr. and Mrs. Craig observed its progress with quiet interest.
They were pleased because the children were made happy. The mother watched the influence the teacher was securing over the children with unfeigned satisfaction.
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George was, in the mean time, using this influence to secure their increased improvement of the school hours. He made diligent study there a condition of his presence and aid during playtime.
When all was completed, a considerable extent of ground had assumed the appearance of a map. Boats were made to sail down the rivers to bear the products of the island countries to the ocean. Ships were built for the seas. George's directions in this part of the play were indispensable, for his scholars had never seen a sail vessel. Carriage roads were made along the mountain sides and over the plains.
"We must have railroads and canals," exclaimed Edwin, who had become as zealous in the amusement as even Gelia. None of the children had seen either, but they had read about them, and seen pictures of them in their school-books.
"Well," replied George, “but there is one thing which you must do before you make railroads and canals."
"What is that?" said Edwin.
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"You must build churches and school-houses."
"What have they to do with it?" said Edwin rather sharply.
"They have much to do with it," replied George. "Religion and education are the means of the improvement among the people. Do heathen nations have railroads, telegraphs, and canals?"
"I suppose not," said Edwin, who began to see the matter more clearly.
"No," continued George, "neither do they have true religion nor education.”
"Now I see," said Gelia, with animation, "how it is. All our teachers from the north, and Aunt Alice, who spent last summer there, said it was full of churches and school-houses and railroads and ships, and such things. We must fill our map full of churches and school-houses."
Busy knives were immediately at work to form mimic places of worship and learning. George took great pleasure in reproducing from fond recollection the little square buildings, with a roof running to a
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point in the center, so characteristic of the New England country school-house. He colored them red, and placed them on the hill-sides and in the valleys of his imaginary home-land. The churches he placed upon the little village greens and at the road crossings. He took pains to explain to his scholars the progress which New England was constantly making in the size and beauty of its churches and its school-houses. If his own country was made the example of what religion and education would do, it was because his thoughts were constantly upon it; but he showed at the same time that he loved every country and all people.
"Now," exclaimed Gelia, when the ground which represented Christian nations had been dotted over with these signs of progress, "now, Mr. Freeman, do make a railroad. What do railroads look like? O I remember the picture in my geography; I will go and get it and see if you make them right;" and away she ran to the school-room.
When Gelia returned she sat down
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under a tree with the book in her hand.
"What are these poles in the picture, with strings along the tops of them?" inquired Gelia of her teacher, holding up the book.
"Those are telegraph poles, and the strings, as you call them, are telegraph wires."
"And are we to have telegraphs too?” shouted Gelia.
"We shall have something like them," said George.
When all was finished the play-grounds were "very attractive, and the children passed many pleasant hours upon them. Even "the people" of the plantation took much interest in them. Slaves on southern plantations are frequently called the people by the white persons. These slaves had many questions to ask concerning the map, and Gelia was ever ready to show her own knowledge for the gratification of her humble inquirers. On the Sabbath, which was generally the leisure day of the slaves, groups were seen here and there
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talking over the items of their newly acquired knowledge of geography, and proclaiming warmly the praises of the new teacher. But none watched the progress of this amusement with so much interest as Yellow Jim. His questions were few, but they plainly showed how readily he understood what George designed to teach. When he had, with evident satisfaction, studied every part of it, he said to George, in a low tone, "Mr. Freeman, I want to ask you a question if you please, sir." Jim never addressed George as "master," and he generally succeeded in avoiding the negro language.
"Well, Jim," said George, "what is your question?"
"Which part of the map do you think I like best?"
"I cannot tell, Jim; which is it ?"
"Canada," said Jim, with a quick, sharp tone.
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CHAPTER VIII.
SUNDAY ON MYRTLE HILL PLANTATION.
Though George had thus endeavored to provide for the amusement of the children of the plantation on the week-days, much labor was evidently needed to lead them to enjoy and improve their Sundays in a right manner. The plantation was fifteen miles from the village, and that was the nearest place of stated Sabbath preaching. There was occasional weekday service on some of the plantations of the vicinity. Many, therefore, of the Sabbaths were spent by George at home with the family. He greatly missed the Sunday-school and public preaching, yet he had the Bible and some good books, with which he resorted to his quiet schoolroom, and there conversed through them with holy things. The place was fitted for prayer and religious thought, though it could not make up the lack of the house of God. He occasionally strolled into the
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forest, which brought many impressive lessons concerning God to the eye and ear.
But George often exclaimed with the Psalmist, "My soul longeth, yea, even fainteth for the courts of the Lord."[4]
The mere absence of his accustomed privileges was not the only inconvenience which George suffered on those Sundays. Though the labor of the field ceased, lively and sometimes boisterous sounds were heard around the quarters of the field hands. They wore away the long and, to them, often wearisome Sabbath by eating and lying down in listless repose, and in rude plays or ruder talk.
Mr. Craig and his wife had, of course, more refined means of enjoyment. "When tired of social chat and of books, which were never intimate companions, they resorted to a drive in the carriage, generally taking with them one of the children. The other children, thus left to themselves, sought amusement with the thoughtlessness of youth. The guns and dogs were freely employed. The quiet of even the teacher's place of resort was sometimes in-
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vaded by their noisy mirth, though they intended to be mindful of his known feelings in reference to such interruptions.
George earnestly desired to lead these children into a better regard for God's holy day. While considering in what way he might best begin his efforts, an incident suggested the plan for the desired improvement.
One beautiful Sabbath morning Mr. and Mrs. Craig, accompanied by May, departed early to spend the day with a friend. The servants of the quarters wandered more freely than usual into the fields and forest. James and Edwin took their horses, guns, and dogs, to join the young men of a neighboring plantation in an attempt to start and capture a deer. Frank resorted to the brook to sail his tiny boat. Gelia being left without her playmates, was much at a loss to know what to do. The teacher, with his books, sought his school-room retreat, in which he spent so many pleasant hours. The time with him glided so swiftly away that he forgot both the slaves and the children.
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Suddenly Gelia burst into the schoolroom with one of her earnest exclamations: "Ho, Mr. Freeman, I don't know what to do with myself! I can't go any where, and there is no one to play with me. I wish I was a boy! I'll warrant you. I'd take Picayune, the pony, and be off after Jim and Ed pretty quick! I have a great mind to go anyhow! I reckon I could ride Pic over a deer range in full gallop as well as any of them."
"Sit down, Gelia, and take breath," said George quietly. "You can find a better way than that to spend the Sabbath. Besides," he added pleasantly, intending to give a serious turn to Gelia thoughts, "you know Picayune has been of late considerably under my instruction, and I don't think he would be willing to take you to a deer hunt on the Sabbath."
"O Mr. Freeman!" replied Gelia sadly, "you are so strict. Why, pa and ma and Sister May have gone to ride, and the boys are having a splendid time I'll warrant, and what shall I do?"
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"Have you no interesting books?" inquired George.
"None but the old ones I've read a hundred times," said Gelia; "besides, you know we can't read always," she added emphatically.
"Well," said George, in a sympathizing tone, "it is hard to read 'always,' and to read one book 'a hundred times.' Come, Gelia, we will take a pleasant walk, and I will tell you a story."
"O, a story!" exclaimed Gelia, jumping up and clapping her hands, "that's it, Mr., Freeman; let it be something about the wars, or the Indians, or a lion story!"
Gelia seized her teacher's hand, and as they started off he began his story:
"There was once a ship which left London with a valuable cargo, and several persons on board as passengers. They were going to a distant country to trade. For many weeks they sailed safely with fair winds and a cloudless sky. But when they were approaching some islands of the Pacific Ocean a severe storm came upon
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them. The captain and his crew behaved bravely, but they could not manage the ship, and she was driven upon an island."
"And were they all drowned?" interrupted Gelia, the tears starting from her eyes.
"O be patient and I will tell you," said George, smiling at the characteristic earnestness of the warm-hearted girl.
"The ship," continued George, "much broken, and unfit to be occupied, was left grounded upon the beach by the receding tide, and the exhausted men seized such things as they could carry and hurried ashore."
"O I am glad," interrupted Gelia again, "that they are safe!"
"Well, they were not drowned," continued her teacher, "but they were soon surrounded by the people of the island, who were savage heathen. They robbed the wreck of everything valuable, and treated the unfortunate strangers cruelly. After several months an English ship approached the island, intending to send a boat ashore to obtain water; but their
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poor countrymen on the island had seen them when they were afar off, and running to the shore, they seized all the canoes that were near, so that the savages could not pursue them, and reached the ship in safety, which immediately sailed away to another and more friendly island."
"And didn't they when they got home send some big war ships and pay those savages off well?" inquired Gelia with spirit.
"They held meetings in London of many thousands of people," answered George, "when such cruelties were made known, and the consequence was they did send ships to that island, and paid those ignorant people off well."
"O I thought so, and I am real glad of it; it was good enough for them. But did they kill all the savages, Mr. Freeman, the women and children too?”
"Why," said George, "I did not say they killed any of them. I said they paid them off well. They did not send war ships, but missionary ships; and they did not fight with them, but taught them how
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to love God and man. Although the missionaries suffered much for some years, yet the islanders became Christians at last. Now if a ship is wrecked there the people take the crew to their homes and freely give them the best they have, treating them, with great kindness."
"There, Mr. Freeman," said Gelia seriously, feeling a little ashamed of her zeal against the islanders, "that is always your way of paying folks off."
"And is it not the best way, Gelia?" asked George.
"O yes, Mr. Freeman," replied Gelia, "and I wish I was good enough to be a missionary," seeming to become quite thoughtful as the picture of savage huts turned into happy homes began to appear to her lively imagination.
This story led to a spirited conversation between Gelia and her teacher, which continued until their return to the schoolroom. While they were loitering in its vicinity a sudden shriek of alarm came from Frankie, who, as we have stated, had been playing in the brook. He had fol-
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lowed his boat down the stream until it entered a basin of water from which a supply for the house was drawn. In reaching after his boat Frankie had fallen in. He was in some danger of drowning. But his teacher arrived soon enough to save him from any injury except from fright. Aunt Maria's tender care soon put the little boatman into a comfortable and happy condition; but the inmates of the house and yard were made somewhat sober. They feared a storm when Frankie’s parents should know how great had been his exposure to danger through their want of watchfulness over him.
These apprehensions were not relieved by the arrival of James and Edwin in no very amiable mood. They had started, they said, a fine fat deer and given him a long chase; but the dogs had sadly failed, and the finest one of them was missing.
The two hunters were disposed to blame each other and blame everything. Their unhappy feelings clouded their brows, and found utterance in unpleasant words.
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George saw by a glance at the horses that the boys were likely to receive, in their turn, a full share of blame. The poor overdriven animals were ready to fall to the ground from sheer exhaustion. The servant who led them away to the stable yard gave ominous mutterings of the coming storm. "Dis mighty fine Lord's day work," said he; "horses e'en a'most dead — poor old Growler done killed, I'll warrant, by that plaguey old deer what de young massas didn't cotch neither. Beckon Masses Jim and Ed wish dey nebber seen dis day."
Mr. and Mrs. Craig returned at a late hour. They were weary, and not prepared to receive with forbearance the home history of the day. George wisely retired to his room, while the noise of a violent storm of wind and rain drowned the noise of the storm which raged below.
When the hour for the school on Monday morning arrived, the children assembled without their accustomed cheerfulness. Even Gelia had none of her noisy mirth; and master Frankie looked as if he had not
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fully recovered from the shock of his sudden bath. James and Edwin seemed to be struggling to suppress a mingled feeling of grief, mortification, and anger.
After the opening devotional exercises a little time was spent in familiar conversation concerning the preceding day's experience. The teacher hoped that an improvement of the present occasion might prepare the way for a better regard for the Sabbath.
Miss May said that the enjoyment of the day was spoiled by the sad state of affairs on her arrival home.
Frankie, who was quite ready to lead the recitals, said that he should not have fallen into the water if Gelia had stayed and played with him, as he wanted her to.
Gelia resented this reflection upon her kindness, and replied sharply, "Frankie always will play in the brook on Sundays!"
James was reserved, and evidently indulged in some self-reproach. But Edwin's conscience was less tender and his resentment at the parental rebuke more
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intense. "Pa scolded us," he muttered, unable to restrain his feelings, “as if we were niggers."
"Why Edwin!" exclaimed May in blank astonishment, "you must not speak so of pa;" and she burst into tears.
It was now Gelia's turn to speak, and the teacher was glad to have a more cheerful tone given to the feelings of his school.
"It was so dull," proceeded Gelia, "because I had no one to play with but Frankie, that I came over here to see Mr. Freeman; and O! such a splendid time I had in hearing his stories. We talked and talked until Frankie spoiled it all by tumbling into the water."
The children laughed at Gelia's earnestness, and the emphatic close of her statement. But when she added that Mr. Freeman said that "you and I, Gelia, have had a kind of Sunday-school," they looked as if they did not quite understand her. A Sunday-school, they thought, must be a dull place. They had never been to any, nor had they ever heard much about them.
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"Well now, my scholars," said George, bringing to a close the conversation, “was yesterday a happy day?”
"No, sir,” was the emphatic reply from all but Gelia.
"Should you like to try something like Gelia's way of spending the Sabbath?" he again inquired.
After a little more explanation, they agreed to meet in the school-room the next Sabbath at nine o'clock in the morning.
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CHAPTER IX.
AN EXPERIMENT.
The difficulties In the way of the work which George had undertaken were very many. He had proposed to establish on the plantation a Sunday-school for those Sabbaths on which the children did not attend Church. His scholars would be wholly unused to its exercises, and impatient of the restraint it imposed. He had no Sunday-school books to attract and profit them, but, at the same time, their prejudices against it must be overcome, their interest secured, and a love for its privileges excited. With this heavy task to perform there was no one to whisper a stimulating word of encouragement, he did indeed sometimes seem to hear his mother's tender entreaty with which she parted with him, "George, be faithful."
With mingled feelings of curiosity and distrust, the children assembled in their
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shady school-room on Sabbath morning. Even Miss May, contrary to George’s expectations, had left her piano and books, and had given up her morning ride that she might be present. With her assistance some very appropriate hymns were sung at the opening of the school, which prepared the way for prayer, in which, by the aid of the Holy Spirit, the children’s thoughts were gently directed to serious things.
The first object at which George aimed was to make himself more fully acquainted with the extent of his scholars’ knowledge of the Bible. He had, at other times, conversed sufficiently with them on religious subjects to be prepared to learn that the Word of God was to them almost an unknown book. He began by referring to some of its interesting historical stories.
"What man was that," said George, addressing Gelia, who was all excitement with interest for a story, "who was commanded to offer his only son a sacrifice upon the altar?"
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"I never heard of such a one," replied Gelia; "O tell us about him!”
"Why, Gelia!" interposed May, feeling that Gelia's ignorance reflected upon the credit of the family; "you certainly have heard of the touching story of Abraham and Isaac."
"I never did," persisted Gelia; "I know I never did, Mr. Freeman; do tell it to us."
"I never did neither!" exclaimed Frankie, who was determined that May's superior knowledge should not stand in the way of his entertainment. James and Edwin "reckoned" they had heard it, but had no objections to hearing it again, having evidently taken a hint from May to help their recollections of a story not very clearly pictured on their minds.
Every step in the course of the story was listened to with interest. A great many questions were asked, especially by Gelia and Edwin.
"O I am so glad," exclaimed Gelia, entering into the reality of the scene, "that God let Abraham take the ram
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instead of Isaac!" George explained that God's command concerning the offering of Isaac was for a great purpose, and to teach men in all ages important truth, He tried to show his attentive listeners that we were reminded by Abraham's example that God gave for us a nobler Son than Isaac, and that faith in him is the way to please God and to be made holy. He then related some of his own Sabbath-school experience in which these truths were impressed upon his mind. While thus engaged, Gelia suddenly exclaimed, as if awaking from a dream, "O, Mr. Freeman, tell us a revolutionary story!"
"Why, Gelia!" said May, “how impolite to interrupt Mr. Freeman. You want a revolutionary story on all occasions, as if nothing were interesting which had no war and bloodshed in it. For my part I think we are highly entertained."
"Do, Mr. Freeman," interrupted Edwin impatiently, " tell us how we beat the British and gained our liberty."
"Were we ever slaves?" interposed
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Gelia, who caught at the last words of Edwin as if a new thought had been awakened in her mind. "I know we never were," she added with spirit.
The children laughed at the turn the conversation had taken, and for a moment George was perplexed. He wished to give the whole occasion a happy turn that would interest and profit the children and satisfy, at the same time, his own aim in the proper improvement of the day. A sudden thought occurred to him,
"I have a revolutionary story," he said with animation, "which will please you all."
"Good! good!" shouted Gelia, springing to her feet and clapping her hands; "let it be about the Indians, or Washington and the British!"
"There was once a nation," proceeded George, "of many thousand people who were greatly oppressed by a very wicked king. They were compelled to build cities and vast monuments, and their cruel masters gave them no rest nor peace. But still they multiplied and became very
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numerous, and the king feared that their numbers would some time become so great that they would be stronger than his people and gain their freedom."
"Was it the British king?" inquired Gelia.
"Why no, child; what a foolish question," answered May.
"So the king," continued George, "determined to kill all the male children as soon as they were born. A fine plan, he thought, to keep the slave nation in his power; but God defeated his purpose. One of these little boys that he meant to kill grew up to be a man, and many years after he appeared before the king and said, 'Let all my countrymen whom you hold in bondage go free.'"
"Did he have a great army?" inquired Edwin.
"Not a single soldier," replied his teacher. “Yet he said. Let all the people go, or they will march out of your land in spite of all your armies."
“Did he have no cannons, nor guns, nor anything of that sort?" inquired Edwin
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again beginning to feel a little doubtful about the truth of the story.
"Not a soldier, nor a gun," said the teacher firmly. "He had only a rod, perhaps such a one as the shepherds use to direct their sheep. With this he could do more than the armies of Alexander or Napoleon."
"Ho, Mr. Freeman!" said James in his quiet way, "you are making up a story just to amuse us."
"I'll warrant he is," shouted Gelia, none the less pleased at the idea of a fiction; "it is going to be something like a fairy story I read in a book which told what wonderful things the fairies did with a ring. I hope the great general is going to take his rod and turn the old king into a monkey."
"No," replied George, "he did not turn the king into a monkey, but he turned the water of his noble river into blood."
May smiled with self-satisfied assurance that she understood the story, and James began to see the shadow of things he had but imperfectly learned; but no other
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scholar had ever learned the account of that greatest revolution of man's history, the rebellion of the Israelites against the rule of the Egyptian king. The teacher proceeded to relate the battles which were fought for the oppressed through the means of this great leader and his wonderful rod, until the final victory was won in the sea, and their triumphant song was sung on its shores. All the scholars, even May and James listened with unabated interest. Gelia declared that it was a better story than any about Washington or the Indians. The explanations of the teacher, and the many questions of the pupils, consumed the hours of the morning; and the children were fairly beguiled out of the impression that a Sunday-school must be tedious and uninteresting.
To provide for another Sabbath morning, George assigned to each a Bible story to learn, hoping that they would be able to relate it in their own language. May engaged to teach little Frankie a Bible story, and to select some little hymn also, for him to commit to memory. Thus
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closed the first experiment of the family Sunday-school. Its influence upon the remaining portion of the day was very pleasing. After dinner as George strolled through the little village of the field hands he observed Gelia seated on an old stool with a group of negroes lying or sitting upon the ground around her. They did not observe the approach of the teacher, so attentively were they listening to Gelia, while she repeated, with a countenance glowing with animation, the stories she had heard in the morning. She was frequently interrupted by questions; but nothing daunted, she answered with unwavering assurance. George silently withdrew unnoticed, and continued his walk into the forest.
The stories passed round from group to group, through the cabins of the slaves, until the Sunday-school was repeated among these neglected laborers of the plantation.
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CHAPTER X.
DIFFICULTIES OVERCOME.
The Sunday following that of which we have spoken was the day of preaching in the neighborhood, so that two weeks passed away before George's experiment could be repeated. He had formed many plans to interest his scholars, and hope had taken the place of despondency with regard to the full success of his labors. But he had other lessons of patience to learn, under the pressure of hopes deferred.
The Sabbath came, and George had already entered his school-room to await the hour for the assembling of the children. Just at this moment the dogs announced by their clamorous barking the approach of strangers. A carriage drove up the avenue toward the house, followed by two dashing young men on horseback. The company consisted of
Mr. and Mrs. Walter Craig and their children, two sons and two daughters.
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Uncle Walter was a great favorite at the plantation. His visits were generally made upon the Sabbath, which became in consequence a day of feasting and amusement. Their arrival was a signal for the slaying of fowls in the vicinity of the kitchen, and of painstaking preparations on the part of Aunt Maria and her co-laborers. No days were burdened with severer toil to the house servants than those honored, or rather desecrated, by the visits of Uncle and Aunt Craig. To the cousins they were of course high days. From the mind of the impulsive Gelia the thoughts of the Sunday-school were as easily effaced on such occasions as her interest at other times was easily excited. She was a child of emotions.
May, true to her cherished notions of politeness, ran over to the school-room to excuse herself to her teacher. The other children had, in the mean time, excused themselves by planning for the pleasures of the day.
Thus, not only disappointed in hoping to make some fresh impressions for good
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upon the minds of his young friends, but in seeing them plunge again into their old habits of Sabbath-breaking, George yielded for the moment to feelings of discouragement. His faith, which just now seemed to stand firm in the promise of God that he that soweth shall reap, gave way to sinful unbelief. Never before had his hands so hung down nor his heart so fainted. He knelt in the corner of his little school-room, where he had often at the close of day found relief in prayer.
While thus engaged he was startled by a subdued response under the window outside. When he rose from his knees, a gentle knock was heard at the door.
"May it please Massa Freeman," said an old man, as George opened the door, "may it please Massa Freeman," he repeated, hesitating and evidently in doubt whether his request would be regarded as proper, "to let us poor savants hear one of dem Bible stories what Miss Gelia tell us about. All de young massas and missuses clar forgot dia blessed new way of
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spendin, de Lord's time now dem young-folks come."
This was uttered with a low bow, the speaker's venerable locks tossing in the wind. He was accompanied by about a score of fellow-servants, who stood at a respectful distance, waiting with evident solicitude the success of the application.
It may seem strange that they should have entertained any doubts of its success. But their master had never invited any religious teacher to instruct or address his servants. George had himself once pressed the subject upon, his attention and had received the bitter, caviling reply that the more privileges they had the greater was their disobedience and idleness. Yet the circumstances under which the present application was made, the reasonableness of the request itself, made him feel that it was an answer to the prayer just offered. So taking his audience a little into the woods, he sat down under a wide-spreading oak, while his hearers gathered about him. Some sat upon the dry leaves, some leaned against
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the trees, and others threw themselves prostrate upon the ground. George talked to them of the garden of Eden, the beauty and glory of the place, and of the happiness of Adam and Eve while in it. He told the story of the fall, impressing upon their minds the terrible consequences of sin.
The old man, Simeon, who had made the request of George for these stories, responded occasionally with, "dat's right," "bless de lord." Some ventured to ask explanations and answers to questions, some of which might have excited a smile; and others were shrewd and not easily answered.
During the progress of the talk large additions had been made, the negroes from various directions slipping up softly, one after another. Nearly all the field hands, including many children, had come within the sound of his voice. Not less than, sixty persons were receiving instruction from his simple narrative.
The slaves retired to their humble dwellings to repeat the instruction of the
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morning, to propose and to answer the profound questions the stories had suggested and, what was of great interest to them, to discuss the probabilities of the privilege of another such meeting with the teacher. Some reckoned largely upon Mr. Freeman's influence with their master. Simeon ventured the opinion, which he expressed with great enthusiasm, that, "De good Lord have a hook in massa's nose dis time, and he must let de people have de meetins."
But Yellow Jim silenced all debate by flatly contradicting the pious old Simeon, and telling the confounded company that "there would be no more camp-meetings on that plantation."
The following Sunday George met his scholars at the appointed hour. The children plainly were a little embarrassed. They had lost confidence in themselves. Besides, as George expected, some prejudice had been excited against the Sunday-school, in the minds of both the parents and the children, by the attention George had given to the slaves; yet no reference
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was made to these matters, and the scholars proceeded, after the reading of the Scriptures and prayer, to relate, in their own language, the stories which, they had learned from the Bible. Frankie told the story and recited the hymn which had been taught him, much to the gratification of all.
George added such explanations and such questions as the interest of the hour required. The school closed pleasantly, and a decided gain had been made in securing a permanent weekly gathering.
No servants came to ask for their crumb of spiritual food from the Bread of Life at the hand of the faithful teacher. Yellow Jim's prediction seemed to be true. But George was not to be easily turned aside from so rich a harvest field as that presented in the judicious teaching of the slaves. Yet he felt keenly that in this matter "wisdom was necessary to direct." We shall see how wisely he acted in carrying out his purpose.
Among George's most valued acquaintance was Judge Walker. His home-place
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was near the village, but he had a plantation adjoining Mr. Craig's, over which an overseer was placed.
Judge Walker was a man of great natural kindness, and of high professions of religious experience. He defended slavery on the ground that it could be made beneficial to the colored people; and so, contrary to the general sentiment among his fellow-slaveholders, he insisted that they should have all possible religious privileges. Such was Judge Walker's position that his opinions and practice in this respect possessed much influence over his neighbors. He was rich and in power, and so was one having authority to speak on so delicate a subject.
Mr. Craig vainly boasted of his intimacy with Judge Walker. George, having the confidence of the judge, determined to direct his influence against Mr. Craig's oppressive treatment of his slaves in reference to their religious privileges. This was easily done. A day spent at the judge's hospitable mansion was mostly occupied in discussing plans of usefulness
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for the benefit of the neglected. George called attention to the state of things at Myrtle Hill. An early call of the judge upon his friend Craig afforded him an opportunity of introducing the subject.
"Friend Craig," remarked the judge in his bland manner, "now that your teacher has stepped out, I will take the occasion to express my admiration of his character. He is a zealous working man; and, if you have no objections, I want to engage a part of his services in the instruction of my people in your vicinity. Or," added the judge, in a very condescending manner, "I will direct my overseer to accompany them to your place, to be instructed in connection with yours."
The judge silently enjoyed the embarrassment of his friend at this proposal. Mr. Craig desired the good opinion of his friend, but he did not wish to extend the religious privileges of his slaves. He, however, rallied resolution to say that Mr. Freeman's time on the Sabbath was his own, and that he had no doubt he would be pleased to teach the judge's people;
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but he would not put them to the trouble to come to his plantation for that purpose.
"Well," said the judge, determined not to receive evasions, "since you are so considerate of my people, let the servants of the two plantations take turns in the labor of walking to the place of instruction. I assure you mine will not mind the walk, and I am sure they will serve God and man much better for it."
Mr. Craig gave his consent to this arrangement, but with ill-concealed opposition of heart.
"O, I am glad Mr. Freeman is going to talk to the servants," shouted Gelia when the judge had gone. "Wont Uncle Simeon be glad!"
"Yes," muttered Mr. Craig, as if talking to himself; "and so will Yellow Jim be glad. I told the rascal the other day that he shouldn't be getting white people's knowledge while I was master of the place. But the judge's influence is too much for me; I think he'll see his error yet."
"The quarters" were full of joy that night. Uncle Simeon lifted up his hands
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in devout gratitude at the failure of Jim's prediction and the establishment of his own. "De good Lord," he exclaimed, "be too mighty for massa! Didn't I tell ye, Jim, de Lord have de hook in massa's nose to lead him wedder or no?" Jim looked very wise but said nothing. He did not very often enter into any discussion with his fellow-servants. He held their opinions in too light esteem, and thought too much of his own.
George was thankful that his sphere of usefulness was so unexpectedly enlarged.
He sat down that very evening and wrote a long and glowing letter to the loved ones of his dear old Connecticut home. He kept his parents and his pastor, and his kindly-remembered Sunday-school superintendent, Mr. Ela, informed of all his plans, and received in return valuable words of sympathy and counsel.
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CHAPTER XI.
ENCOURAGING INDICATIONS.
When Mr. Ela read George's letter, which stated that some of the