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Show 242 UNCLE TOM'S CADIN: OR, thoughts,- that it was vain to servo God, that God had forgotten him. He sometimes saw Cassy; and sometimes, when summoned to the house, caught a glimpse of the dejected form of Emmeline, but held very little communion with either; in fact, there was no time for him to commune with anybody. One evening, he was sitting, in utter dejection and prostration, by a few decaying brands, where his coarse supper was baking. He put a few bits of brushwood on the fire, and strove to raise the light, and then drew his worn Bible from his pocket. There were all the marked passages, which had thrilled his soul so often,- words of patriarchs and seers, poets and sages, who from early time bad spoken courage to man,- voices from the great cloud of witnesses who ever surround us in the race of life. Had tho word lost its power, or could the failing eye and weary sense no longer answer to the touch of that mighty inspiration? Heavily sighing, be put it in his pocket. A coarse laugh roused him ; he looked up,-Legree was standing opposite to him. "Well, old boy," he said, "you find your religion don't work, it seems! I thought I should get that through your wool, at last ! n The cruel taunt was more than hunger and cold and nakedness. Tom was silent. ''You were a fool,'' said Legree; ''for I meant to do well by you, when I bought you. You might have been better off than Sambo, or Quimbo either, and had easy times; and, instead of getting cut up and thrashed, every day or two, ye might have had liberty to lord it round, and cut up the other niggers ; and ye might have had, now and then, a good warming of whiskey punch. Come, Tom, don't you think you'd better be reasonable?- heave that ar old pack of trash in tho fire, and join my church ! " LIFH Al\lONO TilE LOWLY. 243 "The Lord forbid!" said Tom, fervently. "You sec the Lord an't going to help you; if he had been, he wouldn't have let me get you ! This yer religion is all a mess of lying trumpery, Tom. I know all about it. Yo 'd better hold to me; I 'm somebody, and can do something! '' "No, Mas'r," said Tom; "I 'II bold on. The Lord may help me, or not help; but I 'II hold to him, and believe him to the last ! " "The more fool you ! " said Legree, spitting scornfully at him, and spurning him with his foot. "Never mind i I '11 chase you down, yet, and bring you under,- you '11 sec!" and Legree turned away. When a heavy weight presses the soul to the lowest level at which endurance is possible, there is an instant and desperate effort of every physical and moral nerve to throw off tho weight i and hence the heaviest anguish often precedes a return tide of joy nnd courage. So was it now with Tom. The atheistic taunts of his cruel master sunk his before dejected soul to the lowest ebb; and, though the hand of faith still held to the eternal rock, it was with a numb, despairing grasp. Tom sat, like one stunned, at tho fire. Suddenly everything around him stcmcd to fade, and a. vision rose before him of one crowned with thorns, buffeted and bleeding. Tom gazed, in awe and wonder, at the majestic patience of tho face; the deep, pathetic eyes thrilled him to his inmost heart; his soul woke, as, with floOds of emotion, he stretched out his hands and fell upon his knees,- when, gradually, the vision changed : the sharp thorns became rays of glory; and, in splendor inconceivable, he saw that same face bending compassionately towards him, and a voice said, "He that over- |