All who knew him saw that his religious feeling was deep and sincere, for it brought forth fruit in his daily life. He never made others unhappy by indulging freaks of temper. He was extremely temperate, scrupulously honest, and very careful never to say anything but the exact truth. His character was so excellent that all the neighbors respected and trusted him. Many said it was a shame to keep him in slavery, and his master became uneasy about it. People said to him, from time to time, "William, thy master talks of letting thee be free." He heard it so often, that it became an old story, and he thought nothing would ever come of it. But one day his master was walking with him as he went to his work in the fields, and suddenly he inquired whether he would like to be free. William was silent for a while, and then began to talk about the work he was to do. But the question dwelt on his mind and excited his hopes. He told one of his friends about it, and when he was asked, "What didst thou say, William?" he replied, "I did not say anything; for I thought he might _know_ I would like to be free." When he was nearly twenty-eight years old his master offered to make a contract with him by which he could obtain his freedom. He was soon after married to a worthy young woman, and by industry and strict economy they were able in a few years to buy a few acres of land, and build a comfortable house. He led a peaceful and diligent life, doing good to others whenever he could, and harming no one. His conscience was extremely tender. He would never eat anything made of sugar manufactured by slaves, and he never would wear any garments made of cotton raised by slave labor. He thought Slavery was so wrong, that he did not feel easy to connect himself with it, even in the remotest degree. He was equally scrupulous about telling the truth. One of his neighbors, a rich white man, was very much in the habit of borrowing his tools. One day, when he had been using his grindstone, he thanked him for it, and William answered, in the customary way, "Thou art welcome." But soon he began to ask himself, "Was that the exact truth?" His mind was troubled by doubts about it, and finally he went to his neighbor, and said, "When I told thee thou wert welcome, I spoke mere complimentary words, according to custom; for the truth is, I do honestly think thou art better able to have a grindstone of thy own, than I am."