He would reach out his emaciated hands, and say “Carry me to Mr. Carpenter’s, that good man’s house,” for that name which had become more precious to him than a household to his soul, still lingered amid shattered cells.  But the delirium spent its force, and through the tempests of his bosom the light of reason came back.

One night he slept more soundly than usual; and on the next morning his faithful friends saw from the expression of his countenance and the light in his eyes that his reason had returned.  They sent for their family physician, a man in whose honor they could confide.  All that careful nursing and medical skill could do was done, but it was in vain; his strength was wasted; the silver cord was loosed, and the golden bowl was broken; his life was fast ebbing away.  Like a tempest tossed mariner dying in sight of land, so he passing away from earth, found the precious, longed for, and dearly bought prize was just before, but his hand was too feeble to grasp, his arms too powerless to hold it.

His friends saw from the expression of his face that he had something to say; and they bent down to catch the last words of the departing spirit.

“I am dying,” he said, “but I am thankful that I have come this near to freedom.”

He attempted to say no more, the death rattles sounded in his throat; the shadows that never deceive flitted o’er his face, and he was dead.  His spirit gone back to God, another witness against the giant crime of the land.

Josiah came again to see him, and entered the room just as the released spirit winged its flight.  Silently he uncovered him as if paying that reverence to the broken casket which death exacts for his meanest subjects.  With tenderness and respect they prepared the body for the grave, followed him to the silent tomb, and left him to his dreamless sleep.

[Installment missing.]

Chapter IX

“Friend Carpenter, I have brought a friend to see you.  He is a real hot-headed Southerner, and I have been trying to convert him, but have been almost ready to give it up as a hopeless task.  I thought as you are so much better posted than I am on the subject, you might be able to convert him from the error of his ways.  He is a first-rate fellow, my College chum.  He has only one fault, he will defend Slavery.  Cure him of that, and I think he will be as near perfect as young men generally are.”

Friend Carpenter smiled at this good-natured rally, and said, “It takes time for all things.  Perhaps your friend is not so incorrigible as you think he is.”

“I don’t know,” said Charley, “but here he is; he can speak for himself.”

“Oh the system is well enough of itself, but like other things, it is liable to abuse.”

“I think, my young friend,” said Thomas, “thee has never examined the system by the rule of impartial justice, which tells us to do to all men as we would have them do to us.  If thee had, thee would not talk of the abuses of Slavery, when the system is an abuse itself.  I am afraid thee has never gauged the depth of its wickedness.  Thy face looks too honest and frank to defend this system from conviction.  Has thee ever examined it?”