"And why not?" asked Critias; "poor, harmless old Merion, the unwearied attendant on my father's infirmities; his place could not be supplied in our household for his weight in gold."
"You did not weigh that speech then; did not observe its tendencies?"
"Well, yes, it is pretty poetry enough, rhapsodical enough, but, like all rhapsody, harmless."
"Harmless! Did you watch the other slaves as the old man lighted up; as he said: 'All mankind were of one blood, all the offspring of God,' master as well as slave! I am sure these varlets understood it so. Such teaching as that must kindle fire in men's hearts, must engender rebellion. That one slave, as you see, has got that and more by heart; do you think it has no effect on him?"
"No bad effect, at least; he is a good and faithful servant."
"No bad effect! why, man, do you not see that if our slaves once believe they are of one blood with their masters, that they are equally the offspring of God, they will arise and assert their dignity? Then who will do the work?"
"You are troubling yourself very unnecessarily, my dear Magas; there is no slave in our household who works so well or so faithfully as Merion."
"He's but biding his time," said Magas; "take care. The man that, being unlettered, got that doctrine by heart, did so because he cherished it, made much of it; he has studied its meaning, depend upon it; and the meaning to him must be freedom."
"You did not hear him out," said Critias; "he believes in a judgment after death, which shall right the wrongs of earth; the followers of this Jew have the oddest ways in the world. You know the Lady Damaris?"
Magas nodded assent.