“That’s clear, Sir,” said Simeon, rubbing his hands, and taking out his watch to see the time.

The Doctor hitherto had spoken in a laborious manner, like a man who is slowly lifting a heavy bucket of thought out of an internal well.

“I am glad to find your mind so clear on this all-important point, Mr. Brown,—­the more so as I feel that we must immediately proceed to apply our principles, at whatever sacrifice of worldly goods; and I trust, Sir, that you are one who at the call of your Master would not hesitate even to lay down all your worldly possessions for the greater good of the universe.”

“I trust so, Sir,” said Simeon, rather uneasily, and without the most distant idea what could be coming next in the mind of his reverend friend.

“Did it never occur to you, my friend,” said the Doctor, “that the enslaving of the African race is a clear violation of the great law which commands us to love our neighbor as ourselves,—­and a dishonor upon the Christian religion, more particularly in us Americans, whom the Lord hath so marvellously protected, in our recent struggle for our own liberty?”

Simeon started at the first words of this address, much as if some one had dashed a bucket of water on his head, and after that rose uneasily, walking the room and playing with the seals of his watch.

“I—­I never regarded it in this light,” he said.

“Possibly not, my friend,” said the Doctor,—­“so much doth established custom blind the minds of the best of men.  But since I have given more particular attention to the case of the poor negroes here in Newport, the thought has more and more labored in my mind,—­more especially as our own struggles for liberty have turned my attention to the rights which every human creature hath before God,—­so that I find much in my former blindness and the comparative dumbness I have heretofore maintained on this subject wherewith to reproach myself; for, though I have borne somewhat of a testimony, I have not given it that force which so important a subject required.  I am humbled before God for my neglect, and resolved now, by His grace, to leave no stone unturned till this iniquity be purged away from our Zion.”

“Well, Doctor,” said Simeon, “you are certainly touching on a very dark and difficult subject, and one in which it is hard to find out the path of duty.  Perhaps it will be well to bear it in mind, and by looking at it prayerfully some light may arise.  There are such great obstacles in the way, that I do not see at present what can be done; do you, Doctor?”

“I intend to preach on the subject next Sunday, and hereafter devote my best energies in the most public way to this great work,” said the Doctor.

“You, Doctor?—­and now, immediately?  Why, it appears to me you cannot do it.  You are the most unfit man possible.  Whosever duty it may be, it does not seem to me to be yours.  You already have more on your shoulders than you can carry; you are hardly able to keep your ground now, with all the odium of this new theology upon you.  Such an effort would break up your church,—­destroy the chance you have to do good here,—­prevent the publication of your system.”