You read that God
has created of one blood all the nations of the earth; and that his
commandment is, to do unto others as we would that they should do
unto us. You think of your weeping mother, torn from your tender
arms by the cruel slave-trader; of the interdicted light of
knowledge; of the Bible kept as a sealed book from all whose skins
have a tinge of black, or brown, or yellow; of how those brown and
yellow complexions came to be so common; of yourself, the son of the
Governor, yet obliged to read the Bible by stealth, under the
penalty of a bleeding back washed with brine. These and many other
things revolve in your active mind, and your unwritten inferences
are worth whole folios of theological commentaries.
As youth ripens into manhood, life bears for you, as it does for
others, its brightest, sweetest flower. You love young Amy, with
rippling black hair, and large dark eyes, with long, silky fringes.
You inherit from your father, the Governor, a taste for beauty
warmly-tinted, like Cleopatra's.
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