The Doctor did not hold out long. "I have told, or as good as told, my old friend," he began, with rather a sour smile, "that he is suffering himself to be infected by the meannesses of those below him; and now I am almost ready to tell myself that my grave years are giving into the fanaticisms of boyhood. But I stand where I did, Harry. I stand precisely where I did. I have always told you that I hate slavery as much as you do. The only difference between us is, that I am not for justice though the heavens fall."
"Justice, and the heavens will not fall," Harry answered, firmly, but with a tender deference in look and tone.
"And you make too much account of a name," the Doctor went on. "What does it signify that men are called slaves and slaveholders, if, in their mutual relations, they observe the laws of justice and kindness? You will not deny that this is possible? I object to slavery, as it exists, because it too often places almost absolute power in unqualified hands. But you are too sweeping. Good men are good masters. I should count Harvey among such. Colvil has given you a portrait you will accept in Shaler, who was as good a man when he was a slaveholder as he is now. Cicero, a slaveholder,—and Roman slaveholders have not the best repute,—writing upon justice, does not put the slave beyond its pale; he recognizes his humanity and its rights. Will you suppose that we have not American slaveholders as Christian as Cicero?"
"Cicero has said that to see a wrong done without protesting is to commit one."
"We will not dispute to-night, Harry. I am not altogether insensible to the interests of the world, but I have some regard for yours. Perhaps I should take less thought for them, if there were hope that you would take any. At any rate, we will not dispute to-night."
Harry, at least, was in no mood for disputing. He was very happy. He had a gayety of manner I had hardly seen in him. The Doctor soon fell into tune with it, and reconciled himself to the pleasure he had caused.
Wednesday, April 17, 1844.
The Friday came. We had made our last evening a long one, but we were up early on the last morning. Harry and I had our walk together. Coming back, we found the Doctor under Keith's Pine, busy making up his dried grasses and flowers into little compact packages. We sat down there with him as usual. I read aloud. My reading gave us matter of discussion on the way home.