IV
At the close of the service, the minister stood at the door, to shake hands with his departing congregation. Carlin, not disposed to shake his hand, went out and found himself joined by the doctor. They moved on with the crowd, and then stood on the edge of the sidewalk, under the maple trees, and waited.
"He's a good speaker," said the doctor pensively. "I like to come and hear him once in a while."
"Yes," said Carlin, coldly. "He's an able man."
"He's too mystical for me, though.... Seems to me you can think too much about salvation, you can look at your own soul so hard that you get cross-eyed ... that's the way it affects some of them. The women think a lot of him."
"Yes."
"I think some of his doctrine is rather dangerous," went on the doctor mildly. "It takes a strong head, you know, to keep it straight.... But he's all right, himself, he's a good man. Got into trouble preaching against slavery—he lost his first church that way, in Chicago—that was before the war. Oh, yes, he's plucky."
The doctor mused for a moment, while Carlin watched the church door for Mary, then he went on:
"He doesn't pay much attention to worldly affairs, though—doesn't care about political institutions and so on. We had a discussion when he first came here, about slavery. He thinks nothing is of importance except the human soul, but each soul is of infinite importance, the soul of the black slave is just as important as that of his white master. He said he hated slavery because of its effect on the master more than on the slave. He said the slave could develop Christian virtues, but the master couldn't."