ippi! How, as by an enchanted wand, have its scenes been
changed, since Chateaubriand wrote his prose-poetic description of it,*
as a river of mighty, unbroken solitudes, rolling amid undreamed wonders
of vegetable and animal existence.
* _In Atala; or the Love and Constantcy of Two Savages in
the Desert_ (1801) by Francois Auguste Rene, Vicomte de
Chateaubriand (1768-1848).
But as in an hour, this river of dreams and wild romance has emerged to
a reality scarcely less visionary and splendid. What other river of the
world bears on its bosom to the ocean the wealth and enterprise of
such another country?--a country whose products embrace all between the
tropics and the poles! Those turbid waters, hurrying, foaming, tearing
along, an apt resemblance of that headlong tide of business which is
poured along its wave by a race more vehement and energetic than any the
old world ever saw. Ah! would that they did not also bear along a more
fearful freight,--the tears of the oppressed, the sighs of the helpless,
the bitter prayers of poor, ignorant hearts to an unknown God--unknown,
unseen and silent, but who will yet "come out of his place to save all
the poor of the earth!"
The slanting light of the setting sun quivers on the sea-like expanse
of the river; the shivery canes, and the tall, dark cypress, hung
with wreaths of dark, funereal moss, glow in the golden ray, as the
heavily-laden steamboat marches onward.
Piled with cotton-bales, from many a plantation, up over deck and sides,
till she seems in the distance a square, massive block of gray, she
moves heavily onward to the nearing mart. We must look some time among
its crowded decks before we shall find again our humble friend Tom. High
on the upper deck, in a little nook among the everywhere predominant
cotton-bales, at last we may find him.
Partly from confidence inspired by Mr. Shelby's representations, and
partly from the remarkably inoffensive and quiet character of the man,
Tom had insensibly won his way far into the confidence even of such a
man as Haley.
At first he had watched him narrowly through the day, and never allowed
him to sleep at night unfettered; but the uncomplaining patience and
apparent contentment of Tom's manner led him gradually to discontinue
these restraints, and for some time Tom had enjoyed a sort of parole
of honor, being permitted to come and go freely where he pleased on the
boat.
Ever quiet and obliging, and
|