think that Sandy's herb had more virtue
in it than I, in my pride, had been willing to allow; and, had the day
been other than Sunday, I should have attributed Covey's altered manner
solely to the magic power of the root. I suspected, however, that the
_Sabbath_, and not the _root_, was the real explanation of Covey's
manner. His religion hindered him from breaking the{186} Sabbath, but
not from breaking my skin. He had more respect for the _day_ than for
the _man_, for whom the day was mercifully given; for while he would cut
and slash my body during the week, he would not hesitate, on Sunday, to
teach me the value of my soul, or the way of life and salvation by Jesus
Christ.

All went well with me till Monday morning; and then, whether the root
had lost its virtue, or whether my tormentor had gone deeper into the
black art than myself (as was sometimes said of him), or whether he had
obtained a special indulgence, for his faithful Sabbath day's worship,
it is not necessary for me to know, or to inform the reader; but, this
I _may_ say--the pious and benignant smile which graced Covey's face on
_Sunday_, wholly disappeared on _Monday_. Long before daylight, I was
called up to go and feed, rub, and curry the horses. I obeyed the call,
and would have so obeyed it, had it been made at an earilier(sic)
hour, for I had brought my mind to a firm resolve, during that Sunday's
reflection, viz: to obey every order, however unreasonable, if it were
possible, and, if Mr. Covey should then undertake to beat me, to defend
and protect myself to the best of my ability. My religious views on the
subject of resisting my master, had suffered a serious shock, by the
savage persecution to which I had been subjected, and my hands were no
longer tied by my religion. Master Thomas's indifference had served the
last link. I had now to this extent "backslidden" from this point in the
slave's religious creed; and I soon had occasion to make my fallen state
known to my Sunday-pious brother, Covey.

Whilst I was obeying his order to feed and get the horses ready for the
field, and when in the act of going up the stable loft for the purpose
of throwing down some blades, Covey sneaked into the stable, in his
peculiar snake-like way, and seizing me suddenly by the leg, he brought
me to the stable floor, giving my newly mended body a fearful jar. I
now forgot my roots, and remembered my pledge to _stand up in my own
defense_. The brute was endeavor