Another dear friend had said, “I have drawn my sword, and it shall never sleep in its scabbard till the nation is free!” And she had heard that summer of ’64 how bravely the colored soldiers had stood at Fort Wagner, when the storms of death were sweeping through the darkened sky.  How they summoned the world to see the grandeur of their courage and the daring of their prowess.

How Corny had held with unyielding hand the nation’s flag, and even when he was wounded still held it in his grasp, and crawling from the scene of action exclaimed, “I only did my duty, the old flag, I didn’t let it trail on the ground.”

And she felt on reading it with tearful eyes, that if she belonged to that race they had not shamed her by their want of courage; and so when Louis came to her and told her his intention, she would not attempt to oppose him, and when he was ready to depart, with many prayers, and sad farewells, she gave him up to fight the battles of freedom, for such it was to him, who went with every nerve in his right arm tingling to strike a blow for liberty.

Hitherto Louis had known the race by their tenderness and compassion, but the war gave him an opportunity to become acquainted with men brave to do, brave to dare, and brave to die.

A colored man was the hero of one of the most tender, touching, and tragic incidents of the war.  A number of soldiers were in a boat exposed to the fire of the rebels; on board was a colored man who had not enrolled as a soldier, though his soul was full of sublime valor.  The bullets hissed and split the water, and the rowers tried to get out of their reach, but all their efforts were in vain; the treacherous mud had caught the boat, and some one must peril life and limb to shove that boat into the water.  And this man, the member of a doomed, a fated race, who had been trodden down for ages, comprehending the danger, said, “Some one must die to get us out of this, and it mout’s well be me as anybody; you are soldiers, and you can fight.  If they kill me it is nothing.”

And with these words he arose, gave the boat a push, received a number of bullets, and died within two days after.

Louis acquitted himself bravely, and rapidly rose in favor with his superior officers.  To him the place of danger was the post of duty.  He often received letters from Minnie, but they were always hopeful; for she had learned to look on the bright side of everything.

She tried to beguile him with the news of the neighborhood, and to inspire him with bright hopes for the future; that future in which they should clasp hands again and find their duty and their pleasure in living for the welfare and happiness of our race, as Minnie would often say.

A race upon whose brows God had poured the chrism of a new era—­a race newly anointed with freedom.

Oh, how the enthusiasm of her young soul gathered around that work!  She felt it was no mean nor common privilege to be the pioneer of a new civilization.  If he who makes two blades of grass grow where only one flourished before is a benefactor of the human race, how much higher and holier must his or her work be who dispenses light, instead of darkness, knowledge, instead of ignorance, and over the ruins of the slave-pen and auction-block erects institutions of learning.