University of Virginia Library

10. CHAPTER X.
THE TEST OF THEOLOGY.

The Doctor went immediately to his study and
put on his best coat and his wig, and, surmounting
them by his cocked hat, walked manfully out
of the house, with his gold-headed cane in his
hand.

“There he goes!” said Mrs. Scudder, looking
regretfully after him. “He is such a good man!
— but he has not the least idea how to get along
in the world. He never thinks of anything but
what is true; he hasn't a particle of management
about him.”

“Seems to me,” said Mary, “that is like an
Apostle. You know, mother, St. Paul says, `In
simplicity and godly sincerity, not with fleshly
wisdom, but by the grace of God, we have had
our conversation in the world.”

“To be sure, — that is just the Doctor,” said
Mrs. Scudder; “that's as like him as if it had
been written for him. But that kind of way,
somehow, don't seem to do in our times; it won't

answer with Simeon Brown, — I know the man.
I know just as well, now, how it will all seem to
him, and what will be the upshot of this talk, if
the Doctor goes there! It won't do any good; if
it would, I would be willing. I feel as much desire
to have this horrid trade in slaves stopped as
anybody; your father, I'm sure, said enough about
it in his time; but then I know it's no use trying.
Just as if Simeon Brown, when he is making his
hundreds of thousands in it, is going to be persuaded
to give it up! He won't, — he'll only turn
against the Doctor, and won't pay his part of the
salary, and will use his influence to get up a
party against him, and our church will be broken
up and the Doctor driven away, — that's all that
will come of it; and all the good that he is
doing now to these poor negroes will be overthrown,
— and they never will have so good a
friend. If he would stay here and work gradually,
and get his System of Theology printed, —
and Simeon Brown would help at that, — and
only drop words in season here and there, till
people are brought along with him, why, by-and-by
something might be done; but now, it's just
the most imprudent thing a man could undertake.”

“But, mother, if it really is a sin to trade in
slaves and hold them, I don't see how he can
help himself. I quite agree with him. I don't

see how he came to let it go so long as he
has.”

“Well,” said Mrs. Scudder, “if worst comes to
worst, and he will do it, I, for one, shall stand by
him to the last.”

“And I, for another,” said Mary.

“I would like him to talk with Cousin Zebedee
about it,” said Mrs. Scudder. “When we
are up there this afternoon, we will introduce the
conversation. He is a good, sound man, and the
Doctor thinks much of him, and perhaps he may
shed some light upon this matter.”

Meanwhile the Doctor was making the best of
his way, in the strength of his purpose to test the
orthodoxy of Simeon Brown.

Honest old granite boulder that he was, no
sooner did he perceive a truth than he rolled after
it with all the massive gravitation of his being,
inconsiderate as to what might lie in his way; —
from which it is to be inferred, that, with all his
intellect and goodness, he would have been a very
clumsy and troublesome inmate of the modern
American Church. How many societies, boards,
colleges, and other good institutions, have reason
to congratulate themselves that he has long been
among the saints!

With him logic was everything, and to perceive
a truth and not act in logical sequence from it a
thing so incredible, that he had not yet enlarged

his capacity to take it in as a possibility. That
a man should refuse to hear truth, he could understand.
In fact, he had good reason to think
the majority of his townsmen had no leisure to
give to that purpose. That men hearing truth
should dispute it and argue stoutly against it, he
could also understand; but that a man could
admit a truth and not admit the plain practice
resulting from it was to him a thing incomprehensible.
Therefore, spite of Mrs. Katy Scudder's discouraging
observations, our good Doctor walked
stoutly and with a trusting heart.

At the moment when the Doctor, with a silent
uplifting of his soul to his invisible Sovereign,
passed out of his study, on this errand, where
was the disciple whom he went to seek?

In a small, dirty room, down by the wharf, the
windows veiled by cobwebs and dingy with the
accumulated dust of ages, he sat in a greasy,
leathern chair by a rickety office-table, on which
was a great pewter inkstand, an account-book,
and divers papers tied with red tape.

Opposite to him was seated a square-built individual,
— a man of about forty, whose round head,
shaggy eyebrows, small, keen eyes, broad chest,
and heavy muscles showed a preponderance of
the animal and brutal over the intellectual and
spiritual. This was Mr. Scroggs, the agent of a
rice-plantation, who had come on, bringing an

order for a new relay of negroes to supply the
deficit occasioned by fever, dysentery, and other
causes, in their last year's stock.

“The fact is,” said Simeon, “this last ship-load
wasn't as good a one as usual; we lost more
than a third of it, so we can't afford to put them
a penny lower.”

“Ay,” said the other, — “but then there are so
many women!”

“Well,” said Simeon, “women a'n't so strong,
perhaps, to start with, — but then they stan' it
out, perhaps, in the long run, better. They're
more patient; — some of these men, the Mandingoes,
particularly, are pretty troublesome to manage.
We lost a splendid fellow, coming over, on
this very voyage. Let 'em on deck for air, and
this fellow managed to get himself loose and
fought like a dragon. He settled one of our men
with his fist, and another with a marlinspike that
he caught, — and, in fact, they had to shoot him
down. You'll have his wife; there's his son, too,
— fine fellow, fifteen year old by his teeth.”

“What! that lame one?”

“Oh, he a'n't lame! — it's nothing but the cramps
from stowing. You know, of course, they are
more or less stiff. He's as sound as a nut.”

`Don't much like to buy relations, on account
of their hatching up mischief together,” said Mr.
Scroggs.

“Oh, that's all humbug! You must keep 'em
from coming together, anyway. It's about as broad
as 'tis long. There'll be wives and husbands and
children among 'em before long, start 'em as you
will. And then this woman will work better for
having the boy; she's kinder set on him; she jabbers
lots of lingo to him, day and night.”

“Too much, I doubt,” said the overseer, with a
shrug.

“Well, well, — I'll tell you,” said Simeon, rising.
“I've got a few errands up-town, and you just
step over with Matlock and look over the stock;
— just set aside any that you want, and when I
see 'em all together, I'll tell you just what you
shall have 'em for. I'll be back in an hour or two.”

And so saying, Simeon Brown called an underling
from an adjoining room, and, committing his
customer to his care, took his way up-town, in a
serene frame of mind, like a man who comes
from the calm performance of duty.

Just as he came upon the street where was
situated his own large and somewhat pretentious
mansion, the tall figure of the Doctor loomed in
sight, sailing majestically down upon him, making
a signal to attract his attention.

“Good morning, Doctor,” said Simeon.

“Good morning, Mr. Brown,” said the Doctor.
“I was looking for you. I did not quite finish
the subject we were talking about at Mrs. Scudder's

table last night. I thought I should like to
go on with it a little.”

“With all my heart, Doctor,” said Simeon, not
a little flattered. “Turn right in. Mrs. Brown
will be about her house-business, and we will have
the keeping-room all to ourselves. Come right in.”

The “keeping-room” of Mr. Simeon Brown's
house was an intermediate apartment between the
ineffable glories of the front-parlor and that court
of the gentiles, the kitchen; for the presence of
a large train of negro servants made the latter
apartment an altogether different institution from
the throne-room of Mrs. Katy Scudder.

This keeping-room was a low-studded apartment,
finished with the heavy oaken beams of the
wall left full in sight, boarded over and painted.
Two windows looked out on the street, and another
into a sort of court-yard, where three black
wenches, each with a broom, pretended to be
sweeping, but were, in fact, chattering and laughing,
like so many crows.

On one side of the room stood a heavy mahogany
sideboard, covered with decanters, labelled
Gin, Brandy, Rum, etc., — for Simeon was held to
be a provider of none but the best, in his housekeeping.
Heavy mahogany chairs, with crewel
coverings, stood sentry about the room; and the
fireplace was flanked by two broad arm-chairs
covered with stamped leather.

On ushering the Doctor into this apartment,
Simeon courteously led him to the sideboard.

“We mus'n't make our discussions too dry,
Doctor,” he said. “What will you take?”

“Thank you, Sir,” said the Doctor, with a
wave of his hand, — “nothing this morning.”

And depositing his cocked hat in a chair, he
settled himself into one of the leathern easy-chairs,
and, dropping his hands upon his knees,
looked fixedly before him, like a man who is
studying how to enter upon an inwardly absorbing
subject.

“Well, Doctor,” said Simeon, seating himself
opposite, sipping comfortably at a glass of rum-and-water,
“our views appear to be making a
noise in the world. Everything is preparing for
your volumes; and when they appear, the battle
of New Divinity, I think, may fairly be considered
as won.”

Let us consider, that, though a woman may
forget her first-born, yet a man cannot forget his
own system of theology, — because therein, if he
be a true man, is the very elixir and essence of
all that is valuable and hopeful to the universe;
and considering this, let us appreciate the settled
purpose of our friend, whom even this tempting
bait did not swerve from the end which he had
in view

“Mr. Brown,” he said, “all our theology is as

a drop in the ocean of God's majesty, to whose
glory we must be ready to make any and every
sacrifice.”

“Certainly,” said Mr. Brown, not exactly comprehending
the turn the Doctor's thoughts were
taking.

“And the glory of God consisteth in the happiness
of all his rational universe, each in his proportion,
according to his separate amount of being;
so that, when we devote ourselves to God's glory,
it is the same as saying that we devote ourselves
to the highest happiness of his created universe.

“That's clear, Sir,” said Simeon, rubbing his
hands, and taking out his watch to see the time.

The Doctor hitherto had spoken in a laborious
manner, like a man who is slowly lifting a heavy
bucket of thought out of an internal well.

“I am glad to find your mind so clear on this
all-important point, Mr. Brown, — the more so as
I feel that we must immediately proceed to apply
our principles, at whatever sacrifice of worldly
goods; and I trust, Sir, that you are one who at
the call of your Master would not hesitate even
to lay down all your worldly possessions for the
greater good of the universe.”

“I trust so, Sir,” said Simeon, rather uneasily,
and without the most distant idea what could be
coming next in the mind of his reverend friend.

“Did it never occur to you, my friend,” said

the Doctor, “that the enslaving of the African
race is a clear violation of the great law which
commands us to love our neighbor as ourselves, —
and a dishonor upon the Christian religion, more
particularly in us Americans, whom the Lord hath
so marvellously protected, in our recent struggle
for our own liberty?”

Simeon started at the first words of this address,
much as if some one had dashed a bucket
of water on his head, and after that rose uneasily,
walking the room and playing with the seals of
his watch.

“I — I never regarded it in this light,” he said.

“Possibly not, my friend,” said the Doctor, —
“so much doth established custom blind the minds
of the best of men. But since I have given
more particular attention to the case of the poor
negroes here in Newport, the thought has more
and more labored in my mind, — more especially
as our own struggles for liberty have turned my
attention to the rights which every human creature
hath before God, — so that I find much in
my former blindness and the comparative dumbness
I have heretofore maintained on this subject
wherewith to reproach myself; for, though I have
borne somewhat of a testimony, I have not given
it that force which so important a subject required.
I am humbled before God for my neglect,
and resolved now, by His grace, to leave no

stone unturned till this iniquity be purged away
from our Zion.”

“Well, Doctor,” said Simeon, “you are certainly
touching on a very dark and difficult subject,
and one in which it is hard to find out the
path of duty. Perhaps it will be well to bear it
in mind, and by looking at it prayerfully some
light may arise. There are such great obstacles
in the way, that I do not see at present what
can be done; do you, Doctor?”

“I intend to preach on the subject next Sunday,
and hereafter devote my best energies in the
most public way to this great work,” said the
Doctor.

“You, Doctor? — and now, immediately? Why,
it appears to me you cannot do it. You are the
most unfit man possible. Whosever duty it may
be, it does not seem to me to be yours. You
already have more on your shoulders than you
can carry; you are hardly able to keep your
ground now, with all the odium of this new theology
upon you. Such an effort would break up
your church, — destroy the chance you have to
do good here, — prevent the publication of your
system.”

“If it's nobody's system but mine, the world
won't lose much, if it never be published; but if
it be God's system, nothing can hinder its appearing.
Besides, Mr. Brown, I ought not to be one

man alone. I count on your help. I hold it as
a special providence, Mr. Brown, that in our own
church an opportunity will be given to testify to
the reality of disinterested benevolence. How glorious
the opportunity for a man to come out and
testify by sacrificing his worldly living and business!
If you, Mr. Brown, will at once, at whatever
sacrifice, quit all connection with this detestable
and diabolical slave-trade, you will exhibit a
spectacle over which angels will rejoice, and which
will strengthen and encourage me to preach and
write and testify.”

Mr. Simeon Brown's usual demeanor was that
of the most leathery imperturbability. In calm
theological reasoning, he could demonstrate, in the
dryest tone, that, if the eternal torment of six
bodies and souls were absolutely the necessary
means for preserving the eternal blessedness of
thirty-six, benevolence would require us to rejoice
in it, not in itself considered, but in view of
greater good. And when he spoke, not a nerve
quivered; the great mysterious sorrow with which
the creation groaneth and travaileth, the sorrow
from which angels veil their faces, never had
touched one vibrating chord either of body or
soul; and he laid down the obligations of man to
unconditional submission in a style which would
have affected a person of delicate sensibility much
like being mentally sawn in sunder. Benevolence,

when Simeon Brown spoke of it, seemed the
grimmest and unloveliest of Gorgons; for his
mind seemed to resemble those fountains which
petrify everything that falls into them. But the
hardest-shelled animals have a vital and sensitive
part, though only so large as the point of a needle;
and the Doctor's innocent proposition to
Simeon, to abandon his whole worldly estate for
his principles, touched this spot.

When benevolence required but the acquiescence
in certain possible things which might be
supposed to happen to his soul, which, after all,
he was comfortably certain never would happen,
or the acquiescence in certain suppositious sacrifices
for the good of that most intangible of all
abstractions, Being in general, it was a dry, calm
subject. But when it concerned the immediate
giving-up of his slave-ships and a transfer of business,
attended with all that confusion and loss
which he foresaw at a glance, then he felt, and
felt too much to see clearly. His swarthy face
flushed, his little blue eye kindled, he walked up
to the Doctor and began speaking in the short,
energetic sentences of a man thoroughly awake
to what he is talking about.

“Doctor, you're too fast. You are not a practical
man, Doctor. You are good in your pulpit;
— nobody better. Your theology is clear; — nobody
can argue better. But come to practical

matters, why, business has its laws, Doctor. Ministers
are the most unfit men in the world to talk
on such subjects; it's departing from their sphere;
they talk about what they don't understand. Besides,
you take too much for granted. I'm not
sure that this trade is an evil. I want to be convinced
of it. I'm sure it's a favor to these poor
creatures to bring them to a Christian land. They
are a thousand times better off. Here they can
hear the gospel and have some chance of salvation.”

“If we want to get the gospel to the Africans,”
said the Doctor, “why not send whole ship-loads
of missionaries to them, and carry civilization and
the arts and Christianity to Africa, instead of stirring
up wars, tempting them to ravage each other's
territories, that we may get the booty? Think
of the numbers killed in the wars, — of all that
die on the passage? Is there any need of killing
ninety-nine men to give the hundredth one the
gospel, when we could give the gospel to them
all? Ah, Mr. Brown, what if all the money spent
in fitting out ships to bring the poor negroes here,
so prejudiced against Christianity that they regard
it with fear and aversion, had been spent in sending
it to them, Africa would have been covered
with towns and villages, rejoicing in civilization
and Christianity?”

“Doctor, you are a dreamer,” replied Simeon,

“an unpractical man. Your situation prevents
your knowing anything of real life.”

“Amen! the Lord be praised therefor!” said
the Doctor, with a slowly increasing flush mounting
to his cheek, showing the burning brand of a
smouldering fire of indignation.

“Now let me just talk common-sense, Doctor,
— which has its time and place, just as much as
theology; — and if you have the most theology, I
flatter myself I have the most common-sense; a
business-man must have it. Now just look at
your situation, — how you stand. You've got a
most important work to do. In order to do it,
you must keep your pulpit, you must keep our
church together. We are few and weak. We are
a minority. Now there's not an influential man
in your society that don't either hold slaves or
engage in the trade; and if you open upon this
subject as you are going to do, you'll just divide
and destroy the church. All men are not like
you; — men are men, and will be, till they are
thoroughly sanctified, which never happens in this
life, — and there will be an instant and most unfavorable
agitation. Minds will be turned off
from the discussion of the great saving doctrines
of the gospel to a side issue. You will be turned
out, — and you know, Doctor, you are not appreciated
as you ought to be, and it won't be easy
for you to get a new settlement; and then subscriptions

will all drop off from your book, and
you won't be able to get that out; and all this
good will be lost to the world, just for want of
common-sense.”

“There is a kind of wisdom in what you say,
Mr. Brown,” replied the Doctor, naïvely; “but I
fear much that it is the wisdom spoken of in
James, iii. 15, which `descendeth not from above,
but is earthly, sensual, devilish.' You avoid the
very point of the argument, which is, Is this a
sin against God? That it is, I am solemnly convinced;
and shall I `use lightness? or the things
that I purpose do I purpose according to the
flesh, that with me there should be yea, yea, and
nay, nay?' No, Mr. Brown, immediate repentance,
unconditional submission, these are what I
must preach as long as God gives me a pulpit to
stand in, whether men will hear or whether they
will forbear.”

“Well, Doctor,” said Simeon, shortly, “you can
do as you like; but I give you fair warning, that
I, for one, shall stop my subscription, and go to
Dr. Stiles's church.”

“Mr. Brown,” said the Doctor, solemnly, rising,
and drawing his tall figure to its full height, while
a vivid light gleamed from his blue eye, “as to
that, you can do as you like; but I think it my
duty, as your pastor, to warn you that I have
perceived, in my conversation with you this morning,

such a want of true spiritual illumination
and discernment as leads me to believe that you
are yet in the flesh, blinded by that `carnal mind'
which `is not subject to the law of God, neither
indeed can be.' I much fear you have no part
nor lot in this matter, and that you have need,
seriously, to set yourself to search into the foundations
of your hope; for you may be like him
of whom it is written, (Isaiah, xliv. 20,) `he feedeth
on ashes: a deceived heart hath turned him
aside, that he cannot deliver his soul, nor say, Is
there not a lie in my right hand?'”

The Doctor delivered this address to his man
of influence with the calmness of an ambassador
charged with a message from a sovereign, for
which he is no otherwise responsible than to
speak it in the most intelligible manner; and
then, taking up his hat and cane, he bade him
good morning, leaving Simeon Brown in a tumult
of excitement which no previous theological discussion
had ever raised in him.