She wanted me to visit her
daughter, who, being recently deprived of her only little girl, has
since been wholly lost to life. The only thing in which she expressed
any interest was Uncle Tom's Cabin, and she was earnestly desiring to
see me. So I went. I found Mrs. De Wette in a charming saloon, looking
out upon the botanic gardens. A very beautiful picture of a young lady
hung on the wall. "That _was_ my poor Clara," said Mrs. De
Wette, "but she is so altered now!"
After a while Clara came in, and I was charmed at a glance--a most
lovely creature, in deep mourning, with beautiful manners; so much
interested for the poor slaves! so full of feeling, inquiring so
anxiously what she could do for them!
"Do ministers ever hold slaves?" she said.
"0, yes; many."
"0! But how can they be Christians?"
"They reason in this way," said I; "they say, 'These people are not
fit to take care of themselves; therefore we must hold them, and
educate them, till they are fit to be free.'"
"I wish," said she, looking very pretty and fierce, "that they might
all be sold themselves, and see how they would like it."
Her husband, who speaks only French, now asked what we were talking
about, and she repeated the conversation.
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