ated me kindly, but
I'd a left him any minute to be my own man.'

"I hope the time will soon come, when, from Canada to the Gulf, there
will not be a single black who is not his own man. We in the army are
doing what we can, but we must be backed up by those who stay at home.
My own feeling is that slavery has received its death-blow. It may
continue to live for some years, but it has fallen from its pomp and
pride of place. It is tottering to its fall. What shall be done with
the negroes in the transition state will be a problem for statesmen to
consider. I don't think we need fear the consequences of doing right,
and on this subject there can be no doubt of what is right; The apparent
insensibility and brutish ignorance which we find among some of the
slaves will wear away under happier influences.

"There is a little fellow of perhaps a dozen years who comes into our
camp and runs of errands and does little services for the men. Yesterday
morning he came to my tent, and with a grin, said to me, 'De ol' man
died last night.'

"'What, your father?' I inquired in surprise.

"'Yes, massa,' with another grin: 'Goin' to tote him off dis mornin'.'

"As he only lived a quarter of a mile off, I got permission to go over
to the house, or cabin, where Scip's father had lived.

"The outer door was open, and I entered without knocking. A woman was
bending over a washtub at the back part of the room. I looked around me
for the body, but could see no indication of anything having happened
out of the ordinary course.

"I thought it possible that Scip had deceived me, and accordingly spoke
to the woman, inquiring if she was Scip's mother.

"She replied in the affirmative.

"'And where is his father?' I next inquired.

"'Oh, he's done dead,' she said, continuing her washing.

"'When did he die?'

"'Las' night, massa.'

"'And where is the body?'

"'Toted off, massa, very first t'ing dis mornin'.'

"In spite of this case of apparent insensibility, the negro's family
attachments are quite as warm naturally as our own. They have little
reason, indeed, to mourn over the loss of a husband or father, since, in
most cases, it is the only portal to the freedom which they covet. The
separation of families, too, tends, of course, to weaken family ties.
While I write these words I cannot help recalling our own happy home,
and longing for an hour, if not more, of your society. I am glad that
you find Mr. Morton so agreeable an i