this that stands between me an’ God?  Is it old Cato?’ He was a pious old preacher; but then I seemed to see Cato in the light, an’ he was all polluted an’ vile, like me; an’ I said, ‘Is it old Sally?’ an’ then I saw her, an’ she seemed jes’ so.  An’ then says I, ‘Who is this?’ An’ then, honey, for a while it was like the sun shinin’ in a pail o’ water, when it moves up an’ down; for I begun to feel ’t was somebody that loved me; an’ I tried to know him.  An’ I said, ’I know you!  I know you!  I know you!’—­an’ then I said, ’I don’t know you!  I don’t know you!  I don’t know you!’ An’ when I said, ‘I know you, I know you,’ the light came; an’ when I said, ‘I don’t know you, I don’t know you,’ it went, jes’ like the sun in a pail o’ water.  An’ finally somethin’ spoke out in me an’ said, ‘This is Jesus !’ An’ I spoke out with all my might, an’ says I, ‘This is Jesus!  Glory be to God!’ An’ then the whole world grew bright, an’ the trees they waved an’ waved in glory, an’ every little bit o’ stone on the ground shone like glass; an’ I shouted an’ said, ‘Praise, praise, praise to the Lord!’ An’ I begun to feel sech a love in my soul as I never felt before,—­love to all creatures.  An’ then, all of a sudden, it stopped, an’ I said, ’Dar’s de white folks, that have abused you an’ beat you an’ abused your people,—­think o’ them!’ But then there came another rush of love through my soul, an’ I cried out loud,—­’Lord, Lord, I can love even de white folks!’

“Honey, I jes’ walked round an’ round in a dream.  Jesus loved me!  I knowed it,—­I felt it.  Jesus was my Jesus.  Jesus would love me always.  I didn’t dare tell nobody; ’t was a great secret.  Everything had been got away from me that I ever had; an’ I thought that ef I let white folks know about this, maybe they’d get Him away,—­so I said, ’I’ll keep this close.  I won’t let any one know.’”

“But, Sojourner, had you never been told about Jesus Christ?”

“No, honey.  I hadn’t heerd no preachin’,—­been to no meetin’.  Nobody hadn’t told me.  I’d kind o’ heerd of Jesus, but thought he was like Gineral Lafayette, or some o’ them.  But one night there was a Methodist meetin’ somewhere in our parts, an’ I went; an’ they got up an’ begun for to tell der ‘speriences; an’ de fust one begun to speak.  I started, ’cause he told about Jesus.  ‘Why,’ says I to myself, ’dat man’s found him, too!’ An’ another got up an’ spoke, an’ I said, ’He’s found him, too!’ An’ finally I said, ‘Why, they all know him!’ I was so happy!  An’ then they sung this hymn”:  (Here Sojourner sang, in a strange, cracked voice, but evidently with all her soul and might, mispronouncing the English, but seeming to derive as much elevation and comfort from bad English as from good):—­

  “There is a holy city,
     A world of light above. 
  Above the stairs and regions,[A]
     Built by the God of love.

  “An everlasting temple,
     And saints arrayed in white
  There serve their great Redeemer
     And dwell with him in light.