er, showed her supple figure and neck,
and, beneath her mass of silky hair, her white arm, like an ivory
serpent, sustained her head, her handsome feet being fine and high-bred,
like the soul that bounded in her maiden ambition.

There had been days when such as she called Antony away from his wife,
and Caesar from his classical selfishness; when on many an Eastern throne
such beauty as this stirred to murmurous glory armies beyond compute,
and clashed the cymbals of prodigious conquests. She lay upon the
altar-cushions of the church, like young Isaac upon his father's altar,
and where the mourners knelt to pray for God's reconcilement, the
cruelty of their law flashed over her like Abraham's superstitious
knife.

Priceless was this young creature, in noble hands, as wife or daughter,
human food or fair divinity, and all the precious mysteries of woman
awake in her to love and conjugality, like song and seed in the spring
bird; yet a hard, steely prejudice had shut her out from every
institution and equality, let every crime be perpetrated upon her, made
the scent of freedom in her nostrils worse than the incentive of the
thief, and has outlasted her half a century, and is self-righteous and
inflexible yet.

In that old churchyard that enclosed her slept revolutionary officers,
who helped to gain freedom: they might be willing to rise with her, not
to be buried in the same enclosure.

How small is religion, how false democracy, how far off are the
judgments of heaven! There stood over the pulpit an inscription, itself
presumptuous with aristocracy, saying, "The dead in Christ shall rise
first;" as if those truly dead in the humility of Christ would not
prefer to rise last!

Samson watched his new friend narrowly, whose countenance was profoundly
piteous, and his teeth and lip made a "Tut-tut!" Satisfied with the man,
Samson knelt by Virgie and kissed her once.

"Pore rose of slavery," said Samson, "forgive me dat I courted you like
a gal, instead of like an angel. I am old, and ashamed of myself. Dear,
draggled flower, we may never meet agin. May the Lord, if dis is his
holy temple, save you pure and find you a home, Virgie. Good-bye!"

"Come," said the man, as Samson sat bowed and weeping, "the buggy is
ready; I'll wrap you warm, Miss."

"Freedom!" spoke the girl, awakening; "oh, I must find it."

* * * * *

The next that Virgie knew, she was in a cabin loft, and voices were