During my stay in Springfield, Mass., I became acquainted with a man by the name of Amos B. Herring, a native of Africa. It seems he had been on to Springfield once before, but, not having finished his education, he had returned to complete his course at Wilbraham Academy. He was a widower with six boys, the two eldest of whom he had left in Paris, to be educated, while he had come here. His wife had been dead four years; so he left his beautifully furnished house in Monrovia in charge of a housekeeper, paying her a dollar a month--just here you will see how Page 74low wages were in Africa. He told me every thing wasnearly as cheap as could be. He had not been inSpringfield long before he became acquainted with aMrs. Lucy Terret, of Washington, D. C. They married;but upon his returning to Africa his wife did notlong survive. She had made a great many friendsduring her stay in Springfield, and when he wrote backthat his wife was dead we could not but regret that shehad ever left us. Soon after her arrival in Monroviashe was attacked with a fever, from which she died.She was very fond of the tropical fruit whichabounded, such as bananas, bread-fruit and dates,and had been cautioned about eating it before she wasfully acclimated. At one time it was thought shewould live through the attack, but she insisted ontasting the fruit, which she appeared to enjoy betterthan any thing else. A daughter by a former marriage--a sweet and attractive child--also found a grave in aforeign land.
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The filling up of their years with misery and degradationmust mean something more than an event offate, else there is no law of progress that bears men onthrough storm, tumult and tempest to the goal of peace.We are just crossing the bitter waters, and can scarcely see our landing; we are not safe over, yet we hope to escape the storms that are still beating upon us, and moor our bark on the shore of freedom. Dear friend,read this simple story carefully, and ponder its lessons. What if it had been your child, stolen from your home, borne to a foreign shore, doomed to such a life, and destined to become the progenitor of a race bound to toil and woe, would not your heart flow in sympathy with the weakest of that race who should come to you in sorrow? But, say you, the day of trial is over, the stream of sympathy may be dried up because of the nominal freedom that has been vouchsafed. I say to you nay; my whole race is yet in peril, and God only knows the end. The love of gain, the lust of power is still dominant, and ceases not to inflict their burdens and enforce their demands.
When the rebellion first broke out a great many people thought "now the slaves will make a grand rush for the Northern side." They had prayed so long for Page 133liberty. Here it was, right in their hand; but the slaves did n't do any such thing. Remaining quiet, and looking about to see how things on both sides were moving, was the very means that saved them. How were they to contend with their masters? They had no arms, nothing to fight with; their masters had been collecting implements of war for some time and the slaves knew it; knew where they were hid; knew all the lines of fortification which they had been compelled to construct. Ah, the slaves were too wise to run any risk, with nothing but hoes in their hands. They said nothing, saw every thing, and at the right time they would give the Union valuable information. The Rebels lost their cause, and why ? Because the slaves were loyal to the government. If they had been disloyal, the Confederates would no doubt have won, or else some foreign power might have intervened and made trouble. As it is, the Rebs. owe an old grudge to the freedman, as much as to say: "Its your fault we did'nt win."
We used often to hear the question asked, can the negro take care of himself? If he is set free, to rely on his own resources, will he not die of starvation? Let us see. At Pine Bluffs there was a full black, known as Uncle Reuben. He was born in Georgia, and displayed such energy, tact, and devotion to his master's interest that he was left in full charge of every thing on the plantation. The slave raised his master from poverty to wealth. At last his master died, and his widow depended still more upon Uncle Reuben, placing all in his hands. He became more ambitious, and succeeded so well that the number of cotton bales increased every year. The children were sent North to school. The white overseers became jealous of him, and compelled his mistress to place a white, nominally, over him. However, he was not interfered with and his mistress treated him as kindly as she dared. Then the sons returned from the North, with no feelings of gratitude to one who by his industry and prudence had educated them, and amassed a fortune of one hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Thank God, he lived to see freedom's light, and after being assured that the Proclamation was a fact, he came over to us.
If you are a woman (and this can be hard to hear and hard to practice!), remember that your husband is still your highest priority beneath God. Love him the way you are called to biblically, and your children will sense the love of the Lord in your home from the moment they are born. It is so easy to put our husbands on the back burner, and it really can affect your marriage (speaking from experience, here). 2ff7e9595c
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