The good example, when
contrasted with the fierce tenor of slavery's fears, is worthy many
followers.
But men seldom profit by small examples, especially when great fears
are paramount.
The physician, holding the good book in his hand, enquires if Mr.
M'Fadden would have him read from it? He has no answer to make,
turns his feverish face from it, closes his eyes, and compressing
his forehead with his hands, mutely shakes his head. A minute or two
passes in silence; he has re-considered the point,--answers, no! He
wants Harry brought to him, that he may acknowledge his crimes; that
he may quench the fire of unhappiness burning within him. "How
seldom we think of death while in life,--and how painful to see death
while gathering together the dross of this worldly chaos! Great,
great, great is the reward of the good, and mighty is the hand of
Omnipotence that, holding the record of our sins, warns us to
prepare." As Mr. M'Fadden utters these words, a coloured woman
enters the room to enquire if the patient wants nourishment. She
will wait at the door.
The physician looks at the patient; the patient shakes his head and
whispers, "Only the boy. The boy I bought to-day." The Bible lays at
his side on the sheet. He points to it, again whispering, "The boy I
took it from!"
The boy, the preacher, Mr. M'Fadden's purchase, can read; she will
know him by that; she must bring him from the shed, from his cold
bed of earth. That crime of slavery man wastes his energies to make
right, is wrong in the sight of heaven; our patient reads the
glaring testimony as the demons of his morbid fancy haunt him with
their damning terrors, their ghastly visages.
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