brief whispered conversation, father told me to harness the fast mare to the sleigh, and both started northward. The rest of the family went to church, and late at night the wearied horse and the tired driver returned. As the family gathered around him, he explained that nothing but a case of necessity and mercy would have taken him on such a journey on the Sabbath day; but the poor runaway slave had for two days hardly tasted food, sleeping in barns, and fearing to tell his story to some enemy, who might betray him to his master. He was overjoyed to find a friend ready and willing to help, and our sleigh took him to the house of another friend, who took him farther on his journey. In conclusion, my father said, ‘This government has a fearful record to meet some day from its treatment of the Indian and the negro, and if ever you can do a kind service to the red man or the black man, be sure to do it, lest you share in the condemnation and the punishment.’ ”
Mr. Thomas Carter’s total abstinence teachings bore fruit in his own family. He had eleven children and over fifty grandchildren, and as many great-grandchildren, and it is believed that not one of the number ever used intoxicating drink.
He was deeply interested in his son’s publications, and read them carefully and with delight. He felt the deep responsibility of a religious publisher. On one occasion he came to New York for his annual visit just after his son had published “Lights and Shadows of Scottish Life,” by Prof. John Wilson, who wrote under the nom de plume of Christopher North. The old gentleman said to his son, “I am sorry to hear you’ve been publishing a novel,” accenting in his Scottish dialect the last syllable. Mr. Carter in vain tried to defend himself by speaking of the purity and elegant style of what was indeed a classic work; but his father would
