Cheer up! arm yourselves with the
spirit of the Lord; it will give you fortitude to live out the long
journey of slave life. How we shall feel when, in heaven, we are
brought face to face with master, before the Lord Judge. Our rights
and his wrongs will then weigh in the balance of heavenly justice."
With these remarks, Harry counsels them to join him in prayer. He
kneels on the brick pavement of the yard, clasps his hands together
as they gather around him kneeling devotedly. Fervently he offers up
a prayer,--he invokes the God of heaven to look down upon them, to
bestow his mercy upon master, to incline his ways in the paths of
good; and to protect these, his unfortunate children, and guide them
through their separate wayfaring. The ardour, grotesqueness, and
devotion of this poor forlorn group, are painfully touching. How it
presents the portrait of an oppressed race! how sunk is the nature
that has thus degraded it! Under the painful burden of their sorrow
they yet manifest the purity of simple goodness. "Oh! Father in
heaven, hast thou thus ordained it to be so?" breaks forth from
Harry's lips, as the criminals, moved by the affecting picture,
gather upon the veranda, and stand attentive listeners. Their
attention seems rivetted to his words; the more vicious, as he looks
through grated bars upon them, whispers words of respect.
Harry has scarcely concluded his prayer when the sheriff,
accompanied by several brokers (slave-dealers), comes rushing
through the transept into the yard.
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