The American Prejudice Against Color | Page 4

opposed. Mrs. King--a step-mother only--was not
only also bitterly opposed, but inveterately so. Bright fancies and
love-bewildering conceptions were what, in her estimation, we ought
not to be allowed to indulge.
In passing, it is proper to say, that this lady, though not lacking a
certain benevolence,--especially that sort which can pity the fugitive,
give him food and raiment, or permit him at her table even,--is,
nevertheless, extremely aristocratic of heart and patronizing of temper.
This statement is made upon quite a familiar acquaintance with Mrs.
King, and out of no asperity of feeling. I cherish none, but only pity for
those who nurture a prejudice, which, while it convicts them of the
most ridiculous vanity, at the same time shrivels their own hearts and
narrows their own souls.

Mrs. King was at first mild in her opposition, but finally resorted to
such violence of speech and act, as to indicate a state of feeling really
deplorable, and a spirit diametrically opposed to all the teachings of the
Christian religion--a religion which she loudly professed, and which
assures us that "God is no respecter of persons."
I judge not mortal man or woman, but leave Mrs. King, and all those
who thought it no harm because of my complexion, to abuse the most
sacred feelings of my heart, to their conscience and their God.
CHAPTER III.
NOBILITY AND SERVILITY.
The reader will doubtless and also correctly imagine that situated as
Miss King has now been shown to be, she could not have experienced
many very pleasant hours either of night or day,--pleasant so far as the
sympathy of her numerous relatives and friends could serve to make
them such. Fortunately, however she was not of that class whose
happiness depends upon the smiles or the approbation of others earned
at any cost--but upon a steady obedience to what in her inmost soul, she
regarded as demanded by the laws of rectitude and justice.
That a young lady could break away without a struggle from the
counsellors, friends and companions of her youth, is not to be expected.
Miss King had her struggles; and the letter written to me by her on the
consummation of our engagement evinced their character, and also her
grandeur and nobility of soul:--
"I have endeavoured to solve, honorably, conscientiously and
judiciously, the greatest problem of human life; and God and the holy
angels have assisted me in thus solving. Friends may forsake me, and
the world prove false, but the sweet assurance that I have your most
devoted love, and that that love will strengthen and increase in
proportion as the regard of others may diminish, is the only return I
ask."
What vows I uttered in the secret chambers of my heart as I read the

above and similar passages of that letter, let the reader imagine who
may be disposed to credit me with the least aptitude of appreciating
whatsoever in human nature is grand and noble, or in the human spirit,
which is lovely, and true, and beautiful, and of good report.
Throughout the letter there was also a tone of gentle sadness--not that
of regret for the course in contemplation,--but that which holily lingers
around a loving heart, which, while it gives itself away, may not even
lightly inflict the slightest pang upon other hearts to which it has long
been bound by dearly-cherished ties.
But family opposition was not the only opposition which Miss King
expected to, or did indeed encounter. Whoever sought to marry yet, and
did the deed unblessed or uncursed of public praise or wrath? And
aside from extraordinary circumstances, it is so pleasant to dip one's
finger into a pie matrimonial.
The following paragraph of a letter written to me by Miss King a few
days after I left her in December, amused me much,--it may possibly
amuse the reader:--
"Professor,--You would smile if you only knew what an excitement
your visit here caused among the good people of Fulton. Some would
have it that we were married, and others said if we were not already
married, they were sure that we would be; for they knew that you
would not have spent a whole week with us if there had been no love
existing between you and myself. Some of the villagers came to see me
the day after you left, and begged of me, if _I were determined to marry
you, to do so at once, and not to keep the public in so much suspense_."
Friend, have you ever heard or read of anything which came nearer to
clapping the climax of the ridiculous than this most singular appeal
couched in the last clause of this quotation, to the benevolence of Miss
King? Certainly, if anything could have come nearer, it would have
been the