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In
the state of |
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Among
the number of the servants who had obtained religion and joined the Church, was
one noted for his piety. This servant, whose name was "Cuff," was
not particularly remarkable for any loud profession, though he was always
ready, in the spirit of meekness, to be a witness for Jesus; but for
unbending integrity and open, straightforward consistency of conduct, he had
few superiors any where. For one who enjoyed no greater advantages, he
possessed an order of intellect superior to most of his colored brethren. All
having the most unwavering faith in his piety, he was unanimously selected by
his brethren to lead in religious exercises at the meetings when no preacher
was present. Every thing went on pleasantly and happily in this religious
family for years. The religion of Jesus, which is adapted to all, and
designed to bring the highest blessings to mankind in general, proves of
especial benefit to the slaves; and that Church which is the most actively
engaged in preaching the Gospel to this portion of our fellow-beings most
certainly gives the strongest evidence of being the true Church of Him who
said, "The poor have the Gospel preached to them." A Church having
been established on this plantation, through the influence of Methodist
preachers, meetings were kept up regularly, and when the intervening Sabbaths
would come, at which time the preacher was absent at another appointment, the
voice of praise and prayer would ascend from the humble chapel, and Cuff
would pour out his full heart in exhortations, with an eloquence and power
none could resist. Often have the hearts of proud and wicked masters, from
adjoining plantations, who had been attracted out of mere curiosity to attend
the meetings, been made to tremble, while the falling tear from proud and
haughty mistresses, who would wonder at the audacity of the negro, would
betray the emotions his eloquence had produced. Many a conscience had thus
been smitten by burning words which had been proof against the Gospel in the
fashionable Churches of the city. |
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The
happy seasons enjoyed at the little |
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"Ah,"
said the infidel, "is that all you have against
him? I can soon whip that out of him." |
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He
made the purchase and took him home. Cuff, with a sad heart, left the old
homestead, and his brethren, and the little chapel, where he had enjoyed so
much religious comfort. When he had performed the duties of the day enjoined
by his new master, he started out to seek a place for private prayer.
Adjoining the garden was a nursery, and it being a secluded spot, he retired
amid the thicket of young trees with which it was filled, and there alone he
kneeled and poured out his burdened spirit to God. While engaged in his
devotions his young mistress, who was walking in the garden, overheard him,
and, drawing nigh to listen, she soon recognized the eloquent voice that had
thrilled her at the Woodland Chapel. She was chained to the spot, as the low
and melancholy tones of the supplicant were breathed into the ears of the
Lord of Sabaoth; and when, with fervor, he prayed for the blessing of God to
come down upon his new master and mistress, the unsealed fountain of her
heart poured forth its tears. |
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On
the ensuing Sabbath Cuff went to meeting, and also at night, but returned so
as to be ready for duty early on Monday morning. He was not aware of the
infidel character of his master, though, from what he had seen and heard
during the short time he had been with him, he knew that he was a stranger to
grace. Knowing, also, that there are many irreligious people, who,
nevertheless, have a great respect for religion and its institutions, when
Cuff was asked the next morning by his master where he had been, he said,
"I have been to meeting; and, bless de Lord, it was a good time,
massa." |
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"Cuff,"
said the master, in a gruff, angry voice, "you must quit praying; I will
have none of it about the place." |
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" |
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"But
you shall quit it, and promise to do so or I will whip you." |
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"I
can not do one nor the other, |
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"Follow
me, then, you obstinate negro," said the master, greatly excited, "and
we shall see whose authority is to be obeyed in this matter." |
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The
slave was led out, and, after being stripped of the few tattered garments
that covered his person, he was tied to a tree in the yard. With a rawhide
the master inflicted twenty-five strokes upon his bare back. The master then
said, "Now, Cuff, will you quit praying?" |
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"No,
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He
then gave the negro twenty-five more lashes, and the blood ran down to the
ground. At the close of this horrid scene in the brutal tragedy, the master
exclaimed, "You will quit now, won’t you?" |
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Meekly
as his divine Master bore the cruel scourge before him, he replied, "No,
my |
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This
so enraged the infuriate fiend, that he flew at him with all the rage of a
tiger thirsting for blood, and plying the bloody weapon with all his
remaining strength, he stopped not till he was obliged to give over from
sheer exhaustion. |
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"Will
you stop your praying now, you infernal nigger, you?" |
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The
same meek voice replied," No, |
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"Then
you shall be whipped this much every time you pray or go to meeting." |
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He
was untied, ordered to put on his clothes, and go about his work. When out of
sight and hearing of his master, he sang, in a low and plaintive tone, |
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"My suffering time will soon
be o’er, |
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While
this cruel scene was transpiring, the young mistress was looking through the
window weeping, and when S. M came into the house, she said, "My
dear husband, why did you whip that poor negro so, just for praying? I am
sure there can be no harm in that." |
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"Silence,"
shouted the enraged husband; "not another word on the subject, or I will
give you as much as I gave him." |
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All
that day S. M raved like a madman, cursing the negro and all his race, and cursing God for having created them.
Night came. He retired to his chamber, and fell upon his couch to rest. In
vain he courted sleep, if for nothing else than to shut out the horrid
visions of his tempest-tossed mind. He turned from side to side with unutterable
groanings. Just before day he exclaimed, "I feel that I shall be damned!
O, God, have mercy on me!" He then said to his wife — the first word be
had spoken to her since his threat — "Is there any one about the house
that can or will pray for me?" |
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"None,"
said she, "that I know of but the poor negro you whipped
yesterday." |
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"O,
I am sure he will not, he can not pray for me!" |
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"Yes,"
said the weeping wife, "I think he will." |
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"Then,
for God’s sake, send some one to call him!" |
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A
servant was soon dispatched; and when Cuff heard that his master wanted him,
expecting a renewal of the scenes of yesterday —for he had been praying all
night — he went from his low, dingy cabin into the chamber of his master.
What was his astonishment, when he entered, to find his master prostrate on
the floor, crying for mercy! |
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"O,"
said he, at sight of his injured slave, "will you, can you pray for me?
I feel that I shall be damned before morning unless God have mercy upon
me." |
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"Yes,
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He
then fell upon his knees, beside his prostrate master and kneeling wife, and,
with a fervor and a faith that opened heaven, he
wrestled hard with God for the guilty man. Thus he continued in prayer and
exhortation, pointing the guilty to the guiltless one, till morning light,
when God, in mercy, stooped to answer prayer, and set the dark, sin-chained
soul of the infidel at liberty, and wrote a pardon on his heart. Soon as the
love of God was shed abroad in the master’s soul, he embraced his servant in
his arms, exclaiming, "Cuff, my dear brother in Christ, from this moment
you are a free man." |
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Great
was the joy and rejoicing in that house on that day. The wife had also found the
pearl of great price, and now one in Christ, as they were before one in
flesh, their souls were dissolved in the bliss of heaven. The slave was
freed, and employed by his master as chaplain at a good salary, and Cuff went
everywhere among his scattered brethren preaching the word. The master
himself became a zealous and successful minister of the Gospel, and lived
many years to preach that Jesus whose name he had blasphemed, and whose
disciple he had scourged. |
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—Sketches
of Western Methodism, 1857 |
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Rev.
James B. Finley |
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There Is a Balm in |
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There is a balm in |
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Sometimes I feel discouraged |
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If you cannot preach like Peter, |
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Traditional Spiritual ---- |