But when life is weary of his trust and guardianship, and throws up his
commission, they declare war at once--dissolve, and each returns to his
original. Death and corruption do their work, and life returns no more,
and death is eternal, and the soul--answer ye dumb graves--did the soul
come here? or went it with life to the great first cause? or is here
the end of all; here, this little tenement? I shudder--is it the flesh,
the instinct of life; or is it the soul which shrinks with horror from
this little portal through which it must pass to eternal bliss, or
eternal--horrible! Assist me to my horse, if you please. Come cousin,
let us go and see old Uncle Toney--and, sir, he will teach you more
philosophy than you ever dreamed of."
"Who is Uncle Toney? miss," asked the stranger of the visiting cousin
when he returned to aid her descent of the mound.
"He is a very aged African, brought to this country from Carolina by
our grandfather, in 1775, or earlier; he says there were remnants of
the Natchez in the country at that time, and the old man has many
stories of these, and many more very strange ones of the doings of the
whites who first came and settled the country.
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