Step by Step Part 8

She kept her Bible at hand, and every now and then picked out some precious verse; but the long, sweet story of Calvary, hidden between its covers, she had not yet read. And her voice found delightful employment in singing the hymns of the olden time, which came to her now with a meaning they had never had before. The Lord sent her health of body, and as she returned to her duties, she tried in all things to be faithful and worthy.

CHAPTER XVIII. CROWNING MERCIES.

THE Lord had not yet exhausted his love towards Tidy, but was designing still greater mercies for her. He was going to deliver her from the thralldom of oppression, and to send her to be further instructed in his truth, and to bear testimony to his loving-kindness in another home.

The master's heart was moved to set her free; and, embarked in a small vessel, with a New England captain, Tidy found herself at twenty years of age sailing away from the land of cruel bondage, to a home where she should know the blessings of freedom. Her emanc.i.p.ation papers were put into the hands of the captain, and money to provide for her comfort, with the a.s.surance that while her master lived she should never want.

At first she was sick and almost broken-hearted at the change in her condition. Much as she longed for freedom, she had formed new ties in her Mobile home, which it was hard for her affectionate nature to break.

She was old enough now to look forward to some of the difficulties to be encountered in a land of strangers, seeking employment in unaccustomed ways. But she went to her Bible as usual in her trouble, and the words which the Angel of the Covenant addressed to Jacob, when, exiled from his father's house, he made the stones of Bethel his pillow, came right home refres.h.i.+ngly to her,--"I am with thee, and will keep thee in all places whither thou goest." The soreness at her heart was at once healed, and she cried out, in deep emotion, "Enough, Lord! Now I have got something to hold on by, and I will never let it go. When I get into trouble, I shall come and say, Lord, you remember what you said to me on board s.h.i.+p, and I know you will keep your promise."

Thus fortified for her new life, Tidy arrived at New York. The sun was just setting as she planted her foot on the soil of freedom; and as his slanting rays fell upon her, she thought of her toiling, suffering sisters, driven at this hour from labor to misery, and her heart sickened at the thought. "O G.o.d," she cried, "hasten the day when ALL shall be free."

Tidy's first experience in this wilderness of delights, where was so much to be seen, learned, and enjoyed, was a striking one, and proved how the goodness of G.o.d followed her all the days of her life. It was Sat.u.r.day evening when she landed. The family with whom the captain placed her were pious people, and were glad enough of the opportunity on the morrow of taking an emanc.i.p.ated slave, who had never been inside a church, to the house of G.o.d. It was a humble, un-pretending edifice where the colored people wors.h.i.+ped, but to her it was s.p.a.cious and splendid. How neat and orderly every thing appeared. Men, women, and children, in their Sunday attire, walked quietly through the streets, and reverently seated themselves in the place of wors.h.i.+p. The minister ascended the pulpit, and the singers took their places in the choir. It was communion Sunday, and the table within the altar was spread for the holy feast. All these strange and incomprehensible proceedings filled the mind of Tidy with solemnity and awe.

The services began. The prayer and reading of the Scripture seemed to feed her hungry soul as with the bread of life. Then the congregation arose and sang,--

"Alas, and did my Saviour bleed?

And did my Sovereign die?

Would he devote his sacred head For such a worm as I?

Oh, the Lamb, the loving Lamb, The Lamb on Calvary;

The Lamb that was slain, That liveth again, To intercede for me."

All through the hymn she was actually trembling with excitement. Her whole being was thrilled, her eyes overflowed with tears, and she could scarcely hold herself up, as verse after verse, with the swelling chorus, convinced her that they sang the praises of Him whom she had seen in her dream, who stood between her and an offended G.o.d, and whom, though she knew him not, she loved and cherished in her inmost soul. Oh, if she could know more about him!

Her wish was to be gratified. As Paul said to the people of Athens, "Whom therefore ye ignorantly wors.h.i.+p, him declare I unto you," so might the preacher of righteousness have said to this eager listener. He took for his text these words: "He was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities; the chastis.e.m.e.nt of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed." Then followed the whole story of the cross,--the reasons why it was necessary for Jesus to give his life a ransom for many; the divine love that prompted the sacrifice; the all-sufficiency of the atonement; and the completeness of Christ's salvation. He spoke of Jesus as the one accepted Intercessor, Advocate, and Surety above, and urged his hearers to yield themselves with faith and love to this faithful and merciful Saviour.

Tidy sat with her eyes fixed on the speaker, her mouth open with amazement, and her hands clasped tightly over her heart, as if to quiet its feverish throbs; and when he had finished, and one and another in the congregation added an earnest "Amen," "Hallelujah," and "Praise the Lord," she could keep still no longer. "'TIS HE," she cried, raising her hands, "'TIS HE; But I never heard his name before."

The closing hymn fell with sweet acceptance upon her ear, and calmed, in some measure, the tumultuous rapture of her spirit:--

"Earth has engrossed my love too long!

'Tis time I lift mine eyes Upward, dear Father, to thy throne, And to my native skies.

"There the blest Man, my Saviour sits; The G.o.d! how bright he s.h.i.+nes!

And scatters infinite delights On all the happy minds.

*'Seraphs, with elevated strains, Circle the throne around; And move and charm the starry plains, With an immortal sound.

"Jesus, the Lord, their harps employs; Jesus, my love, they sing!

Jesus, the life of all our joys, Sounds sweet from every string.

"Now let me mount and join their song, And be an angel too; My heart, my hand, my ear, my tongue, Here's joyful work for you.

"There ye that love my Saviour sit, There I would fain have place, Among your thrones, or at your feet, So I might see his face."

Is there any thing, dear children, that can penetrate the whole being with such rapturous joy as the love of Christ? If you have never felt it, learn to know him that you may experience those "infinite delights"

which he only can pour in upon the soul.

And now we must take leave of Tidy. She lives still, a hearty, humble, trusting Christian. She has been led to her true rest in G.o.d, and in him she is secure and happy; "sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; having nothing, and yet possessing all things."

"I have every thing I want," she says, as she sits beside me, "for G.o.d is my Father, and his children, you know, Missus, inherits the earth."

"How happens it, then, that you are so poor?" I ask.

"My Father gives me every thing he sees best for me," is her beautiful reply. "It wouldn't be good for me to have a great many things. When I need any thing, I ask him, and he always gives it to me. I AM PERFECTLY SATISFIED."

Dear children, upon this little story-tree two golden apples of instruction hang, which I want you to pluck and enjoy. One is, that if G.o.d so loved a humble slave-child, and took such pains to bring her to himself, it is our privilege to feel the same sympathy and love for this poor despised race. And this love will draw us two ways: first, towards G.o.d, admiring and praising his infinite goodness and compa.s.sion; and, secondly, towards these prostrate, down-trodden people, to do all we can, in G.o.d's name, and for his dear sake, for their elevation and instruction. Remember, "Whosoever shall give to drink unto one of these little ones, a cup of cold water only, in the name of a disciple,"--that is, through this feeling of love, of Christian kindness, "he shall in no wise lose his reward."

The other,--if G.o.d so loved this humble slave-child, he has the same love towards every one of you. Will you not yield yourselves to his control, and let his various loving-kindnesses draw you too to himself?

OLD DINAH JOHNSON.

ONE day little Henry Wallace came to his mother's side, as she was sitting at her work, and, after standing thoughtfully a few moments, he looked up in her face and said:

"Ma, how many heavens are there?"

"Only one, my child," replied his mother, looking up from her work with surprise at such a question. "What made you ask me that?"

"Isn't there but one?" inquired Henry, with a little sort of trouble in his voice. "Then, will Dinah Johnson go to the same heaven we do?"

"Certainly, my dear; for heaven is one glorious temple, and G.o.d is the light of it; and into it will be gathered all those who love the Lord Jesus Christ, to dwell in his presence, in fullness of joy, for ever.

But Henry, my darling, why did you ask such a question? Don't you want poor old Dinah to go to the same heaven that we do?"

"Oh, yes, mamma, I love Dinah, and I want her to go to our heaven; but last Sunday papa told me that the angels were every one fair and beautiful, and Jacob Sanders says Dinah is a homely old darkey. Now, how can she change, mamma?"

Henry's mother saw at once where the difficulty lay in her little boy's mind; so, putting aside her work, she took the child up on her knee, and explained the matter to him.

"Henry," said she, "I am sorry to hear that Jacob Sanders calls Dinah a darkey; for those who are so unfortunate as to have a black skin don't like to be called that or any other bad name. They have trouble enough without that, and I hope you will never, never do it. They like best to be called colored persons, and we should always try to please them. We should pity them, and try to relieve their sorrows, and not increase them. Don't you think so?"

"Yes, ma, and I do love Dinah, and I don't care if she isn't white, like you."

"Neither does G.o.d, our heavenly Father, care, Henry, about the color of the skin. The Bible says, 'G.o.d is no respecter of persons; but in every nation, he that feareth him and worketh righteousness, is accepted with him.' G.o.d looks at the soul more than at the body. Nothing colors THE SOUL but sin. That stains and blackens it all over, and only the blood of Jesus Christ can wash it pure and white again. But every soul that has been washed and made white in the blood of the Lamb will be welcomed into heaven, with songs of great rejoicing; and all will dwell together in peace and purity, and love and great happiness for ever.

"Poor old Dinah is one of G.o.d's dear children. She loves the dear Saviour very much, and tries in every way to please and honor him; and she is looking forward with great pleasure to the time when she shall drop that infirm, old, black body, and be clothed with light as an angel. I shall be glad for her,--sha'n't you, darling?"

"Yes, indeed, mamma,--so glad;" and the little boy's mind was henceforth at rest on that point.

But I must tell my readers who old Dinah Johnson was. Once she was a slave; but when she had become so old that her busy head and hands and feet could do no more service for her master, he had set her free. Of course, she was glad to be free,--to feel that she could go where she liked, and do as she pleased, and keep all the money she could earn for herself. Precious little it was, though, for her sight was growing dim, and her hands and feet were all distorted with rheumatism; and what with pains and poverty and old age, her strength was fast wasting. But she was happy, really happy.

If you could have looked upon her, though, you wouldn't have supposed she had any thing to be happy about. With a skin black as night, hair gray and scanty, her face was as homely as homely could be, and her limbs were weak and tottering. The old, unpainted house she lived in shook and creaked with every blast of the wintry wind, and the snow drifted in at every crack and crevice. Her furniture was very poor, and her food mean. But it is not what we see outside that makes people happy. Oh, no; happiness springs from the inside. The fountain is in the heart, from which the streams of joy and gladness flow.

With all her homeliness and poverty, old Dinah was a jewel in the sight of the Lord. He had graven her upon the palm of his hand, and written her name in the book of life; and she was treasured as a precious child in his loving heart. The name of the Lord was precious to her, also; they were bound together in a covenant of love. Of course, she was happy.