g thoughtfully and
earnestly at the preacher, that the old-time spirit of fun and humour
had been utterly washed out of his face. There was no sign of grief, no
mark of distress, but he had the air of settled anxiety belonging to
those who are tortured by an overpowering responsibility. Apparently
here was an interesting study. If the responsibilities of life are
problems to those who have been trained to solve them, how much more
formidable must they be to this poor negro but lately lifted to his
feet! Thus my reflections took note of the pathetic associations and
suggestions clustering around this dignified representative of an
unfortunate race.

Upon this particular occasion church services were to extend into the
afternoon, and there was an interval of rest after the morning sermon,
covering the hour of noon. This interval was devoted by both old and
young to the discussion of matters seriously practical. The members of
the congregation had brought their dinner baskets, and the contents
thereof were spread around under the trees in true pastoral style.
Those who came unprovided were, in pursuance of an immemorial custom of
the section and the occasion, taken in charge by the simple and hearty
hospitality of the members.

Somehow I was interested in watching Mingo. As he passed from the
church with the congregation, and moved slowly along under the trees,
he presented quite a contrast to the other negroes who were present.
These, with the results of their rural surroundings superadded to the
natural shyness of their race, hung upon the outskirts of the assembly,
as though their presence was merely casual, while Mingo passed along
from group to group of his white friends and acquaintances with that
familiar and confident air of meritorious humility and unpretentious
dignity which is associated with good-breeding and gentility the world
over. When he lifted his hat in salutation, there was no servility in
the gesture; when he bent his head, and dropped his eyes upon the
ground, his dignity was strengthened and fortified rather than
compromised. Both his manners and his dress retained the flavour of a
social system the exceptional features of which were too often by both
friend and foe made to stand for the system itself. His tall beaver,
with its curled brim, and his blue broadcloth dress-coat, faded and
frayed, with its brass buttons, bore unmistakable evidence of their age
and origin, but they seemed to be a reason