at my new home was Mr. Peppery, the nervous radical, of whom mention has been made.

Mr. Peppery was a man of quick movement, rapid speech, and remorseless frankness. He did not hamper himself with any conventional ceremonies, nor approach his subject by any indirect by-ways of circumlocution, but came down upon you by the shortest cut, and with overwhelming abruptness and audacity. His countenance wore the same scowl I had observed upon it the day he bolted out of church, and he took my hand with about as much cordiality as one might be expected to exhibit towards a red-hot poker.

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"I have called to ask you to preach a sermon on the atrocious and abominable sin of American slavery," said he; "will you do it?"

I told him that I expected to call attention to that subject, in the course of my ministry in Bubbleton ; but that I desired first to secure the friendship and confidence of the people, in order that my appeals in behalf of the slave might be as effective as possible.

"That won't do it won't do at all!" cried Mr. Peppery, rising from his chair, and stepping rapidly about the room; "such a course is unbecoming the independence and dignity of a Christian pulpit — unbecoming the faithfulness that should characterize a minister of Christ. Away, sir, with timeservingaway with compromises! It's your business to preach the truth, sir, the naked truth, whether men will hear or whether they will not. 'He that hath my word let him speak my word faithfully: What is the

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