y negroes--by negroes."

He continued to repeat the word in a lower and lower tone, and then
became silent. Suddenly he passed his hand over his brow, and asked,--

"Are the people who are slaves fond of their children? Do you know any
song they sing?"

Eric had very little to say in reply. Roland wanted to know how all the
ancient nations regarded slavery. Eric could give him only a
superficial statement; he proceeded to open his letter to Professor
Einsiedel, and requested that he would tell him what books treated upon
the subject of slavery among the Jews, Greeks, Romans, and especially
the ancient Germans.

When Roland was at last ready to go to bed, he produced Thomas a
Kempis, and placed it beside Theodore Parker.

"I would like to imagine," he said, "how they would regard one another,
if they stood side by side. I fancy Thomas a Kempis to be an extremely
devout, refined monk; and when I imagine Theodore Parker, I think of
him as a grandson or great grandson of Benjamin Franklin."

Eric was more and more amazed, for he saw how deeply Roland had thought
about them both.

Thomas a Kempis makes men recluses, leads them continually into
themselves, and then above the human world; Parker also leads men into
themselves, but afterwards out of themselves and into the world around
them.

When Roland and Eric went, the next day, to post the letter to
Professor Einsiedel, they saw the boat coming up the river, on which
were the Mother and Sonnenkamp. They made a signal, and repaired to the
landing. Roland was astonished that Manna had not come with them, for
his father had promised to bring her. Sonnenkamp went on in advance
with Eric, and asked after the household. He seemed in a very bad
humor.

Roland detained the Mother, and when the others were out of hearing, he
asked her:--

"Did Manna tell you too that she was an Iphigenia?"

"No. What did she mean by that?"

"I don't know."

The Mother pressed her lips together; she had some idea of what she
meant; she understood her lamentation, and her thankfulness to God, for
having called her to endure the extreme of woe. She inquired about the
connection in which the expression had been used, but Roland
interrupted her by telling her that he had read the book which she had
forgotten.

The Mother was startled, but felt more at ease when Roland related to
her that Eric had set him right in the matter, and that he himself
would be sure to keep the secret.

Ne