been good indeed. All that they know they tell us; all that they share; all that they hope we divide with them. Let us bless God that he

sent us such friends, and hope one day to be free."

So saying, Marossi threw his arm around his sister's waist, and leaned his head down upon hers, and thus, half-weeping, half-hoping, half-fearing, they moved towards their resting place, for the sun had gone down below their view, and the night was becoming dark and cold.

CHAPTER XIV.

THE GRAVE OF A HERO.

WE must go back a little in the thread of our story, and, as ladies say, "take up a stitch." It is not one, however, which needs recording here more than in any other place. But as, in justice to a very noble character, it must come in somewhere here it is.

Poor Wallace's body lay for some time in the cotton-field, and it was observable that Harris always avoided the spot. As far as he was concerned, therefore, it would have been well to have allowed the carcass to remain, that there might be some object on earth to admonish his too-easy conscience. When the gory skin ceased to do its work, then the naked muscles, over-run with worms, might tell their lesson, and the whitened bones at last might instruct the hard-hearted slave-holder that he, too, must die. But, as he avoided the spot, there was no hope of teaching him by such means, and Susan having one day told Tom of the pain it always caused her to see the carcass lying there, he resolved to bury it. But he first took off its skin, and spread it out for the sun to dry; and then, wrapping the other remains in a piece of old canvass, he prepared for the last obsequies. And where, think you, reader, was the grave dug? Where but down by the cedar-tree, near where Susan had buried her box of books. One night, when it was very dark, Tom went down and dug the grave; and then, when all was ready, Susan, Tom, Rosetta and Marossi buried it. They all helped to cover it with earth, and to conceal the place by moss and leaves; and each shed upon the spot a tear, fresh from the springs of the heart. When they returned home, Susan recited these lines, which she had composed, commemorative of poor Wallace, and Rosetta soon learned to recite them:

Beneath the spreading cedar-tree,

Where everlasting gloom

Hangs like a darken'd canopy,

We make our hero's tomb.

Oh! would there were a brighter spot

For thee!-a nobler fate!

A life where death no more appears

Nor man's o'erbearing hate.

Forgive the wish if aught appears

Offensive to our God!

Plead for our hearts those burning tears,

We left upon the sod.

'Tis but a worthless recompense

A sinner's hopeless thought

For one whose overflowing love
His death so foully brought.

Oh man! proud man! where'er thou art,
Step with a rev'rent tread-

For here there lies a noble heart-
Heroic Wallace-dead!

CHAPTER XV.

THE CAMP-MEETING.

MR. HARRIS now being fairly on his legs again-as would be pretty evident if it were possible for us to state all his doings from the time of his coming down stairs to the present-it was at length arranged, with his consent, that the long talked-of camp-meeting should take place upon his plantation. Harris was one of those slave-owners who strictly observed the rule of never allowing his slaves to go off his grounds; therefore if ever they were seen beyond a certain boundary, it was well-known that they were absent upon no good. There were only two exceptions to this rule, Rachel, who repeatedly had to fulfil commissions for Mrs. Harris at the neighbouring town; and Ned, who used to drive the cart, or ride horseback to execute trusts of a more general character-and these always carried a ticket with them explanatory of their duty, and they often found this passport necessary to their free locomotion.

We don't know, reader, whether you were ever present at a camp-meeting. Of course, you are a regular attendant of a place of worship; but as a camp-meeting cannot be called "a place" of worship, it is quite probable that you never attended one, and that you scarcely know what is meant thereby. We will, therefore, proceed to inform you.

In those parts of the country where meeting-houses are few, and the population is widely scattered, religious assemblies are frequently held out of doors, and upon these occasions, enthusiasm and novelty combining, large numbers of people are called together. Even townspeople, consenting to change their " temple" for once, will walk into the country for miles, to worship among the daisies and the buttercups, and unite their songs of praise with those of the feathered tribes.

The pulpit, upon such occasions, is a very primitive affair. A cart, a barrel, or the stump of a tree, or the summit of a hedge have severally been known to serve the purpose. Well, upon Harris's plantation a spot of ground has been selected, where little harm can be done to the crops, and a four-wheeled wagon has been moved out into the centre thereof, because many of the brethren are expected to attend, and the grounds are thrown open to all who "seek the Divine grace."

Now, a camp-meeting differs from another assembly not only in its locality, but in its management, for the "spirit" quickens to an extraordinary extent, and, therefore, it is deemed advisable to keep up the course of religious exhortation, without any intermission whatever. Instead of having one sermon only, there are many sermons from many preachers, and about three hymns to every sermon; because music sounds so charming in the open air; and everybody is inspired to sing; Nature is so lovely, and looks

so much like Zion itself! Upon these occasions Brother Longface follows Brother Green, who is followed by Brother Brown, who is followed by Brother Black, who is followed by Brother Longface again, and so on from Brother Green to Brother Black.

Well, we don't wonder that these meetings are so attractive. There is heaven above and earth below, and we see exactly the state of man's probation! Here are no chimneys smoking out their dense intervention between earth and heaven!—no high houses and brick walls to hedge in one's faculties, and circumscribe one's soul! Earth looks very beautifulbut there, up there, is the sky, looking so deeply blue, and with fleecy clouds rolling across it, which look like all kinds of angel-shapes-now picturing valleys with streams of water, symbolical of waters of life-passing through them-then rising up into mountains, with over-hanging cliffsthen forming a throne, surrounded by scraphs and angels. As an American writer describes it :-"A country Sabbath! who can go out of the city and enjoy that, even in imagination, without bringing the day, and all its placid light, and all its green and tranquil blessings home in his soul? It steals upon you like the floating raptures of a trance, and, O! there are such smiles and splendours of God in the sky; there is such a spirit of worship in the hushed and reverent air; there are such songs of praise from all the temples of nature, rising on wings of holy melody to heaven; and you behold such comely forms and faces descending the green hills, and emerging from the woods and lanes, you forget this prison durance, and seem to walk in a higher sphere."

Now, reader, you know something of a camp-meeting.

The gathering was appointed for a Sabbath day, which duly arrived, and the four-wheeled wagon was well filled with apostles, and the surrounding space with willing hearers. There were white people and black people, and mulattoes, intermixed-stout people and thin, old and young, grave and gay; people of colour and people of no colour. Some lying on the grass, others standing up, some lounging against each other, others leaning over branches of trees, up which they had climbed. Now, this is just as it should be. But can you imagine slaves and their masters standing before the face of God, near to the spot even now moist with human gore! Yet there sits Harris upon the wagon, among the "brethren," whilst around him stand his slaves, many of them bearing scars of wounds lately inflicted by his own hands!

We won't attempt to report the sermons-a specimen of them has been already given-and whether from Brother Green or Brother Black, the story is much the same. All we shall do is to mention that our old acquaintance, Aunt Patty, was present, and, to speak up to the Yankee scale of comparison, with a voice that might be heard throughout the whole state of Kentucky. Those who heard her will not easily forget the manner in which she sang,

"When I can read my title clear
To mansions in the skies !"

We have already shown how she made her title clear to mansions in the town-by being an inveterate gossip, and intermeddling with everybody's affairs. We shall, therefore, only remark that, having called since our last mention of her, at Thomas Hanaway's, she was requested, when at the camp-meeting, to find out Harris's slave, Susan, and to present her with a hymn-book, which commission she faithfully complied with; and, what is

very remarkable, directly Susan opened the book, and noticed the writing of her name inside, she shrieked aloud and sank to the ground. Everybody thought it was the blessed influence of the preaching; but what it really was will appear hereafter.

CHAPTER XVI.

THE RELIGIOUS CONCLAVE.

AFTER the camp-meeting, Brothers Longface, Green, Brown, and Black, together with Aunt Patty, and a great many more, adjourned to Brother Harris's house, to enjoy a refreshing season" to themselves. Mrs. Harris sat in her accustomed place, in her accustomed manner, but had bedecked herself in unusual magnificence, having put on a very rich Indian silk scarf, decked her hair with a dress of coral ornaments, held in her hand a handsome Chinese fan, placed by her side a small table richly inlaid with pearl, as a resting-place for her kerchief and her vinaigrette, and retained for special attendance upon herself, her slave Rachel, who, even more than her mistress, was gaudily attired, and certainly looked beautiful, as she moved about the room with an air of great self-possession, displaying the large white beads which hung around her neck and arms, and the other trinkets arranged about her person. Mrs. Harris was now in her element; to sit in oriental style and be the admired of all admirers, was to her the very essence of life. And the fact that all around her were clothed in the plainest possible manner-the men in the style of Sampson Longface, and the women in the fashion of Aunt Patty, who wore a brown cotton gown, which trolloped close against her slender figure, a drab shawl of limited dimensions, pinned tightly around her shoulders, and a black coal-scuttle bonnet, lined with white, and tied by two pieces of narrow ribbon, rendered still narrower by frequent usage-only heightened Mrs. Harris's consciousness of superiority.

"Brother Brown, what will you take ?" asked Mr. Harris. "Thank'ee, brother, I'll help myself, i' the Lord permit." And all the brethren followed his example.

"Brother Longface, red or white ?" asked Mr. Harris.

"The Lord deliver me! you knows I never drinks them drinks; they stings like a sarpent, and bites like a'nadder," says Sampson.

And so they were successively helped to whatever their fancy pleased, or their consciences permitted. Notwithstanding the denunciation by Sampson, there were several who took a little for their stomach's sake.

Aunt Patty! Aunt Patty!" said Mr. Harris, "what are you doing?" "Oh, never mind me; no hurry," says she; and she really felt that there was no hurry, inasmuch as she had just put an end to the appearance of a considerable meat-pie.

"But you'll" and Mr. Harris was stretching out his hand towards a decanter, and looking significantly at her.

"No, no," said Aunt Patty, "not a drop, no way. No, no, Brother Harris."

What do you take, dear?" said Mr. Harris, addressing his spouse.

"Nothing," was her reply; "I never eat :" and she raised her vinaigrette. Rachel rolled the whites of her eyes, and looked sceptical.

I am sorry, brother Harris," said Green, "to hear of thy many tribulations."

"They are but trifling, compared with the matters of the soul," said Harris, helping himself freely from a large ham.

66

Why don't you get an overseer to take the anxieties off your mind?” asked Brother Brown.

" said Brother Black;

"I'm afraid thou'rt too indulgent to your servants, "remember the saying, Spare the rod, and spoil the child.';

"Ah!" said Longface, "I'm afeard Brother Harris doesn't extort 'em often enough. If he would have such meetings as these here more oftener, he would work a miracle of good; and at this moment he transferred to

his plate a slice of beef of extraordinary dimensions.

"Oh! oh dear! the Lord help me!" said Aunt Patty, screaming aloud. "What's the matter?" cried everybody.

"Oh! a dreadful spasm; right-right across-oh!" said Aunt Patty, kicking out her feet and rolling her eyes around, as if to discover whether anything was coming.

The alarm was considerable. Even Mrs. Harris partook of it, and felt exceedingly warm.

"She want's a drop of gin," said Sampson, who fully understood Aunt Patty's complaint; "I've a seen her like this here before. Dear good soul, she's a grate sufferer."

"Here, Rachel," said Mr. Harris, "these keys,-the gin!"

Aunt Patty gave another shriek.

"There, dear, there !" said Sampson, holding the glass to her lips.

"No! no! cried Aunt Patty, and she pushed her hand in the wrong direction. No! no!"—but as the "no, no's" came out, it was observable that the gin went in, and Aunt Patty was soon better.

The conversation was then resumed, and quickened with the pulses of the speakers. Aunt Patty became exceedingly vivacious, and drawing near to Mrs. Harris, she plumped herself down upon the opposite end of the sofa in a manner which quite shook Mrs. Harris's nerves.

"Well, my dear," said Aunt Patty, "it's pretty, sartainly"-looking about the room-"it's all very well in its way, but I should be afraid to have all this finery about me; I should be afraid that the devil would put it into my heart to be lifted up with vain riches, and to forget God. And you, my dear," she continued, addressing Rachel, "do go and throw away those foolish nic-nacs; they make me think I see the devil coiling around your neck and arms, and hurrying you off to perdition. Lor' missus," turning to Mrs. Harris, "if I were you, I'd out with all this vile trash!" Mrs. Harris was already breathing with difficulty, and her head was going up and down, which Aunt Patty mistaking for a favourable expression, heightened the pressure of her expostulation. "Remember, my dear, the rich man and Lazarus; he was clothed in purple and fine linen, and fared sumptuously every day, and died and was buried, and in hell he lifted up his eyes, being in torments, and he saw Abraham afar off, with Lazarus, the poor man, in his bosom !”

Aunt Patty had now produced a real case of hysteria. Mrs. Harris, unaccustomed to expostulations of this kind, and often suffering from a tendency of blood to the head, went off with a thrilling scream. Phoebe rushed to her mistress's assistance, and cried over her like a child, and in a few moments the room was cleared,—the religious conclave had ended.