ROWING SCENE} existence here, except in such
hearts as are purer and higher than the standard morality around them.
It is one of the consolations of my life, that I know of many honorable
instances of persons who maintained their honor, where all around was
corrupt.

Esther was evidently much attached to Edward, and abhorred--as she had
reason to do--the tyrannical and base behavior of old master. Edward
was young, and fine looking, and he loved and courted her. He might have
been her husband, in the high sense just alluded to; but WHO and _what_
was this old master? His attentions were plainly brutal and selfish, and
it was as natural that Esther should loathe him, as that she should
love Edward. Abhorred and circumvented as he was, old master, having the
power, very easily took revenge. I happened to see this exhibition of
his rage and cruelty toward Esther. The time selected was singular. It
was early in the morning, when all besides was still, and before any of
the family, in the house or kitchen, had left their beds. I saw but few
of the shocking preliminaries, for the cruel work had begun before I
awoke. I was probably awakened by the shrieks and piteous cries of poor
Esther. My sleeping place was on the floor of a little, rough closet,
which opened into the kitchen; and through the cracks of its unplaned
boards, I could distinctly see and hear what was going on, without being
seen by old master. Esther's wrists were firmly tied, and the twisted
rope was fastened to a strong staple in a heavy wooden joist above, near
the fireplace. Here she stood, on a bench, her arms tightly drawn over
her breast. Her back and shoulders were bare to the waist. Behind her
stood old master, with cowskin in hand, preparing his barbarous work
with all manner of harsh, coarse, and tantalizing epithets. The screams
of his victim were most piercing. He was cruelly deliberate, and
protracted the torture, as one who was delighted with the scene. Again
and again he drew the hateful whip through his hand, adjusting it with
a view of dealing the most pain-giving blow. Poor Esther had never yet
been severely whipped, and her shoulders{68} were plump and tender.
Each blow, vigorously laid on, brought screams as well as blood. _"Have
mercy; Oh! have mercy"_ she cried; "_I won't do so no more;"_ but her
piercing cries seemed only to increase his fury. His answers to them are
too coarse and blasphemous to be produced here. The whole scene, with
a