Identifier: uncletomscabinor02stow (find matches)
Title: Uncle Tom's cabin : or, Life among the lowly
Year: 1852 (1850s)
Authors: Stowe, Harriet Beecher, 1811-1896
Subjects: Uncle Tom (Fictitious character) Master and servant African Americans Fugitive slaves Plantation life Slavery Slaves
Publisher: Boston : John P. Jewett & Co. Cleveland : Jewett, Proctor & Worthington
Contributing Library: Boston Public Library
Digitizing Sponsor: Boston Public Library

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agery,and fervent language, impressed her the more, that she ques-tioned vainly of their meaning; — and she and her simplefriend, the old child and the young one, felt just alike aboutit. All that they knew was, that they spoke of a glory to berevealed,— a wondrous something yet to come, wherein theirsoul rejoiced, yet knew not why; and though it be not so inthe physical, yet in moral science that which cannot be under-stood is not always profitless. For the soul awakes, a trem-bling stranger, between two dim eternities,— the eternal past,the eternal future. The light shines only on a small spacearound her; therefore, she needs must yearn towards theunknown; and the voices and shadowy moviugs which come toher from out the cloudy pillar of inspiration have each oneechoes and answers in her own expecting nature. Its mysticimagery are so many talismans and gems inscribed withunknown hieroglyphics; she folds them in her bosom, andexpects to read them when she passes beyond the veil.
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LIFE AMONG THE LOWLY. 63 At this time in our story, the -whole St. Clare establish-ment is. for the time being, removed to their villa on LakePontchartrain. The heats of summer had driven all whowere able to leave the sultry and unhealthy city, to seek theshores of the lake, and its cool sea-breezes. St. Clares villa was an East Indian cottage, surrounded bylight verandahs of bamboo-work, and opening on all sides intogardens and pleasure-grounds. The common sitting-roomopened on to a large garden, fragrant with exerj picturesqueplant and flower of the tropics, where winding paths randown to the very shores of the lake, whose silvery sheet ofwater lay there, rising and falling in the sunbeams,— a pic-ture never for an hour the same, yet every hour more beau-tiful. It is now one of those intensely golden sunsets whichkindles the whole horizon into one blaze of glory, and makesthe water another sky. The lake lay in rosy or goldenstreaks, save where white-winged vessels glided hither an

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