"I suppose no such thing. I never saw the man yet—the grown man—without one; and as I did not expect to meet with him here, I didn't look for him. Harvey allows no unnecessary severity; his plantation is governed by fixed laws, to which the overseer is amenable as well as the slaves. Every deviation from them has to be accounted for. He sees that his people have justice done them,—that is to say, as far as justice ever is done on this earth. He has wrought no miracles, and probably did not expect to work any. He has run into no extravagances of benevolence; and I respect him for it all the more that I know he is by nature an impetuous man. I cannot but think our friend Shaler would have done better to follow his example than to abandon his negroes as he has."
"He gave them something to begin their new life with," said Harry.
"So much thrown away. Just a sop to his conscience, like the rest; a mode of excusing himself to himself for shifting off his own responsibilities upon other people. Two thirds of his rabble are paupers by this time."
Harry looked to me for the answer.
"They have been free four years. Two of them have fallen back on his hands,—two out of one hundred and seventy-three. He has not abandoned them. They still apply to him when they need advice or aid."
"I was not so much arguing about this particular case, which I don't pretend to have much knowledge of, as reasoning upon general grounds. I still think he would have done better to keep his slaves and try to make something of them here."
"The law would not let him make men of them here," Harry answered.
"A great deal may be done, still keeping within the law," replied the Doctor, "by a man more intent on doing good than on doing it precisely in his own way."
"Even in what it allowed, the law did not protect him. Where injustice is made law, law loses respect,—most of all with those who have perverted it to their service. You know Mr. Westlake's maxim,—'Those who make the laws can judge what they are made for.'"