Cr^!' .%."*;■-■ >"• -^^ -^^ ..>^ ^r^'Ts^ .A ci-. -A o N ^ « 4 *■ ' .\ ■ ■ I » ~. 'i'^ ./■% -^^ ~'^V. .v\^ -^0^' •r^ \. ^ ■<.<=.^ ..-\ % ,;\^' .^^\. lO. ^ A^^ .V ^. '0 > ,-\" -^^s^' %,.^ .^ -% -6' -- V <■' -^^ <>' -^^ ^- ^ •^ ..^^ <^''V ^-<<^ •0 ■o> .<^^"*.'^ .# jt; ■ ^i. ^ "^ - lis .■ ■ - .• -■ •f' '/-. A-^ -^^^ '^^^ v-^^ 'r I if ^ ■X^ ^ v. ^ C^^ .^^^ >0 o ^^-^^-^-^^ )i^H AUTOGRAPHS FOR FREEDOM EDITED BY JULIA GRIFFITHS. " In the long vista of the years to roll, I,et mc not see my country's honor fade ; Oh ! let rae see our land retain its soul ! Her pride in Freedom, and not Freedom's shadi NEW YORK: JAMES C. DERBY. AUB URN: ALDEN, BEARDSLEY &, CO, 1854. I OIFT ^ itTATE er S EWING m ER 23, 1947 .• RY OF CONGRESr Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1834, by ALDEN, BEARDSLEY & CO., In the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Northern District of New York. STEBEOTYPED BT THOMAS B. SMITH, 216 William St. N.Y. ^§.xthtt. TiST commending this, tlie second volume of " tJie Autographs for Freedom^'' to tlie attention of tlic public, " THE Rochester Ladies' Anti-Slavery So- ciety" would congratulate themselves and the friends of freedom generally on the progress made, during the past year, by the cause to which the book is de- voted. We greet thankfully those who have contributed of the wealth of their genius ; the strength of their con- victions ; the ripeness of their judgment ; their earnest- ness of purpose ; their generous sympathies ; to the completeness and excellence of the work ; and we shall hope to meet many of them, if not all, in other num- bers of " The Autograph^'' which may be called forth ere the chains of the Slave shall be broken, and VI Pkeface. this country redeemed from tlie sin and tlie curse of Slavery. On belialf of tlie Eocliester Ladies' Anti-Slavery Society. Rochester, K Y., Contents. Subject. Author. page IxTEODTJOTioN' (Tlje Colored F'-ople's " Industrial Collv.;:^"j . . . Prof. G. L. Reason . 11 Massacre at Blount's fort . . Hon. J. E. Giddings 14 The Fugitive Slave Act . . . Hon. Wm. Jay . . 27 The Size of Soula .... Antoinette L. Brown 41 Vincent Oge George B. Vaslion . 44 The Law of Liberty . . . liev. Dr. Wm. Marsh 61 The Swiftness of Time in God . . Theodore. ParTcer . 63 Visit of a Fugitive Slave to the Grave of "Wilberforce .... Wm. Wells Broion . 70 Narrative of Albert and Mary . . Dr. W. H. Brkhane 77 Toil and Trust .... Hon. Chas. F. Adxms 128 Friendship for the Slave is Friendship for the Master .... Jacob Allott . . 134 Christine Anne P. Adams . . 139 The Litellectual, Moral, and Spiritual Condition of the Slave . . . J. M. Langston . 147 The Bible versus Slavery . . Pcv. Dr. Willis . . 151 The Work Goes Bravely on . . W. J. WatUna . 150 tiu Contents. Subject. Author. Slaveholding not a Misfortune but a Crime The Illegality of Slaveholding . " Ore Perennius" .... The Mission of America . Disfellowshipping the Slaveholder A Leaf from my Scrap Book Who is my Neighbor Consolation for the Slave . . , The Key The True Mission of Liberty . The True Spirit of Eeform A Welconje to Mrs. H. 15. Stowe, on her refui'n from Euroj^e . . J. G. Holly . Forward (from the German) . . Bev. T. W. Higginson What has Canada to do with Slavery ? Thos. Henning A Fragment . , . . . Bee. Bvfus Ellis The Encroachment of the Slave Power John Jay ^ Esq. Til e Dishonor of Labor . , . Horace Gi'eeley . The Evils of Colonization . . Win. WatJcins The Basis of the American Constitu- tion Bev Wm. Brock Bev. W. Goodell . David Paul Brown . Jolm 8. 0. AUott . Lcicis Tappan , Wm. J. Wilson Bev. Thos. Starr King Br. S. Willard Br. S. Willard . Br. W. Elder Mary Willard . A Wish A Dialogue ... A time of Justice will come . Hope and Confidence A Letter that speaks for itself On Freedom Mary Smith. An Anti-Slavery Ee- mioisoence .... Hon. Wm. H. Seward Mrs. C. M. Kirldand C. A. Bloss Hon. Gcrit Smith . Prof. C. L. Beason . Jane Q. Swisshelm , B. W. Emerson . 158 159 160 161 163 165 174 175 177 178 180 184 186 187 190 192 194 198 201 207 210 225 226 230 235 Eon S. E. Seioell. . 236 Contents. IX Subject. Freedom — Liberty .... An Aspu'ation .... The Dying Soliloquy of tlie Victim of the "Wilkesbarre Tragedy Let all be Free .... Extract from a Speecli Extract from an UupuLlished Poem on Freedom .... Letter A Day Spent at Playford Hall Teaching the Slave to Eead Author. PAQE Br. J. McCune Smith 241 Bcv. E. E. Chapin . 242 Mrs. II. E. Greenovgh 243 Eon. C. M. Clay . 248 Frederich Douglass . 251 William D. Snow . 256 Eev. E. Ward Beecher 273 Mrs. Earriet B. Stowe 277 Mary Irinng . . 804 INTRODUCTION. CI]C Coloai' f ro|lc*s ''liitetriitl College/' WHAT SOME OF THE BUILDERS HAVE THOUGHT. A WORD oft-times is expressive of an entire pol- -^■*- icy. Sucli is the term Abolition. Thougli for- merly used as a synonym of Anii-Slo/oery^ people now clearly understand that the designs of those who have ranged themselves under the first of these systems of reform are of deeper significance and wider scope than are the objects contemplated by the latter, and concern themselves not only with the great primary question of bodily freedom, but take in also the col- lateral issues connected with human enfranchisement, independent of race, complexion, or sex. The Abolitionist of to-day is the Iconoclast of the age, and his mission is to break the idolatrous images 12 The Colored People'3 set up by a hypocritical Churcli, a Sliam Democracy, or a corrupt public sentiment, and to substitute in tlieir stead the simple and beautiful doctrine of a com- mon brotberliood. He T^ould elevate every creature by abolishing the hinderances and checks imposed upon him, whether these be legal or social' — and in proportion as such gTievances are invidious and severe, in such measure does he place himself in the front rank of the battle, to wage his emancipating war. Therefore it is that the Abolitionist has come to be considered the especial friend of the negro, since he, of all others, has been made to drink deep from the cup of oppression. The free-colored man at the north, for his bond- brother as for himself, has trusted hopefully in the iu- creasing public sentiment, which, in the multiplica- tion of these friends, has made his future prospects brighter. And, to-day, while he is making a noble struggle to vindicate the claims of his entii'e class, de- pending mainly for the accomplishment of that end on his own exertions, he passes in review the devotion and» sacrifices made in his behalf: gratitude is in his heart, and thanks faU from his Hps. But, in one de- "Industrial College." 13 partment of reformatory exertion he feels tliat he has been neglected. He has seen his pledged allies throw theniselves into the hottest of the battle, to fight for the Abolition of Capital Punishment — for the Pro- hibition of the Liquor TrafS.c — for the Eights of Women, and similar reforms, — but he has failed to see a corresponding earnestness, according to the" in- fluence of Abolitionists in the business world, in open- ing the avenues of industrial labor to the proscribed youth of the land. This work, therefore, is evidently left for himself to do. And he has laid his powers to the task. The record of his conclusions was given at Eochester, in July, and has become already a part of history. Though shut out from the workshops of the coun- try, he is determined to make self-provision, so as to triumph over the spirit of caste that would keep him degraded. The utility of the Industrial Institution he would erect, must, he believes, commend itself to Abolitionists. But not only to them. The verdict of less liberal minds has been given already in its favor. The usefulness, the self-respect and self-dependence, — the combination of intelligence and handicraft, — the accumulation of the materials of wealth, all referable 14 The Colored People's to sucli an Institution, present fair claims to tlie as- sistance of tlie entire American people. Whenever emancipation shall take place, immedi- ate thongh it be, the subjects of it, like many -who now make up the so-called free population, will be in what Geologists call, the " Transition State." The prejudice now felt against them for bearing on their persons the brand of slaves, cannot die out immedi- ately. Severe trials will still be their portion — the cin-se of a " taunted race " must be expiated by almost miraculous proofs of advancement ; and some of these miracles must be antecedent to the great day of Jubilee. To fight the battle on the bare ground of abstract principles, will fail to give us complete vic- tory. The subterfuges of pro-slavery selfishness must now be dragged to light, and the last weak argument, — ^that the negro can never contribute anything to ad- vance the national character, "nailed to the counter as base coin." To the conquering of the diificulties heaped up in the path of his industry, the free-colored man of the North has pledged himself Already he sees, springing into growth, from out his foster luork- school, intelligent young laborers, competent to enrich the world with necessary products—industrious -* "Industrial College." 15 citizens, contributing tlieir proportion to aid on tlie advancing civilization of tlie country ; — self-provid- ing artizans vindicating tlieir people from tlie never- ceasing charge of a fitness for servile positions. Abolitionists ouglit to consider it a legitimate part of their great work, to aid in such an enterprise — to abolish not only chattel servitude, but that other kind of slavery, "which, for generation after generation, dooms an oppressed people to a condition of depend- ence and pauperism. Such an Institution would be a shining mark, in even this enlightened age ; and every man and woman, equipped by its discipline to do good battle in the arena of active life, would be, next to the emancipated bondman, the most desirable " Autograph for Freedom.^'' / fA^Ci^. <^. v/^^ /Z^^'^^^^'^u^. ^Bmm at ilomit's ^ort. ^N tlie Tvest side of tlie Appalacticola Eiver, some forty miles below tlie line of Georgia, are yet found the ruins of -what was once called " Blount's FoET." Its ramparts are now covered witli a dense growtH of underbrusL. and small trees. You may yet trace out its bastions, curtains, and magazine. At tbis time tbe country adjacent presents tbe appearance of an unbroken wilderness, and tbe wbole scene is one of gloomy solitude, associated as it is witb one of tbe most cruel massacres wbicb ever disgraced tbe Ameri- can arms. Tbe fort bad originally been erected by civilized troops, and, wben abandoned by its occupants at tbe close of tbe war, in 1815, it was taken possession of by tbe refugees from Georgia. But bttle is yet known cf tbat persecuted people ; tbeir bistory can only be AT Blount's Fort. 17 found in tlie national arcliives at Washington. They had been held as slaves in the State referred to ; but during the Eevolution they caught the spirit of liberty, at that time so prevalent throughout our land, and fled from their oppressors and found an asylum among the aborigines living in Florida. During forty years they had effectually eluded, or resisted, all attempts to re-enslave them. They were true to themselves, to the instinctive love of liberty, which is planted in every human heart. Most of them had been born amidst perils, reared in the forest, and taught from their childhood to hate the oppress- ors of their race. Most of those who had been per- sonally held in degrading servitude, Avhose backs had been seared by the lash of the savage overseer, had passed to that spirit-land where the clanking of chains is not heard, where slavery is not known. Some few of that class yet remained. Their gray hairs and feeble limbs, liowcver, indicated that they, too, must soon pass away. Of the three hundred and eleven persons residing in " Blount's Fort" not more than twenty had been actually held in servitude. The others were descended from slave parents, who fled from Georgia, and, according to the laws of slavo 18 Massacre States, were liable to suffer the same outrages to wMcli their ancestors had been subjected. It is a most singular feature in slave-holding morals, that if the parents be robbed of their liberty, deprived of the rights with which their Creator has endo ,c^cl them, the perpetrator of tliese wrongs be- comes entitled to repeat them upon the children of their former victims. There were also some few parents and grandchildren, as well as middle-aged persons, who sought protection within the walls of the Fort against the vigilant slave-catchers who oc- casionallj were seen prowling around the fortifica- tions, buL who dare not venture within the power of those whom they sought to enslave. These fugitives had planted their gardens, and some of them had flocks roaming in the wilderness ; all were enjoying the fruits of their labor, and congratu- lating themselves upon being safe from the attacks of those who enslave mankind. But the spirit of op- pression is inexorable. The slaveholders finding they could not themselves obtain possession of their in- tended victims, called on the President of the United States for assistance to perpetrate the crime of enslav- ing their fellow men. That functionary had been AT BLOUNT'S Fort. 19 reared amid soutliern institutions. He entertained no doubt of tlie riglit of one man to enslave anotlier. He did not doubt that if a man lield in servitude sTiould attempt to escape, he would be worthy of death. In short, he fully sympathised with those who sought his official aid. He immediately directed the Secretary of "War to issue orders to the Com- mander of the "Southern Military District of the United States" to send a detachment of troops to de- stroy " Blount's Fort," and to " seize those ivho occupied it and return them to their masters!'''^ General Jackson, at that time Commander of the Southern Military District, directed Lieut.-Colonel Clinch to jjerform the barbarous task. I was at one time personally acquainted with that officer, and know the impulses of his generous nature, and can readily account for the failure of his expedition. He marched to the vicinity of the Fort, made the neces- sary recognisance, and returned, making report that " the fortification was not accessible by land."f » Vide Executive documents of the 2d Session 13th Congress. f It is believed tliat this report was suggested by the humanity of Col. Clinch. lie was reputed one of the bravest and most energetic officers in the service. He possessed an indomitable perseverance, and could probably have captured the Fort in one hour, had he desired to do so. 20 Massacke Orders were then issued to Commodore Patterson, directing liim to carry out tlie directions of tlie Secre- tary of War. He at that time commanded the Ameri- can flotilla lying in "Mobile Bay," and instantly issued an order to Lieut. Loomis to ascend the Ap- palachicola Eiver with two gun-boats, " to seize the people in Blount's Fort, deliver them to their owners, and destroy the Fort." On the morning of the 17th Sept., A. D. 1816, a spectator might have seen several individuals stand- ing upon the walls of that fortress watching with in- tense interest the approach of two small vessels that were slowly ascending the river, under full-spread canvas, by the aid of a light southern breeze. They were in sight at early dawn, but it was ten o'clock when they furled their sails and cast anchor opposite the Fort, and some four or five hundred yards dis- tant from it. A boat was lowered, and soon a midshipman and twelve men were observed making for the shore. They were met at the water's edge by some half dozen of the principal men in the Fort, and their errand demanded. The young officer told them he was sent to make AT Blount's Fort. 21 demand of tlie Fort, and that its inmates -were to be given up to the '' slaveholders, then on board the gun-boat, who claimed them as fugitive slaves !" The demand was instantly rejected, and the midshipman md his men returned to the gun-boats and informed Lieut. Loomis of the answer he had received. As the colored men entered the Fort they related ',0 their companions the demand that had been made, jreat was the consternation manifested by the females, and even a portion of the sterner sex ap- peared to be distressed at their situation. This was observed by an old patriarch, who had drunk the bitter cup of servitude, one who bore on his person the visible marks of the thong, as well as the brand of his master, upon his shoulder. He saw his friends faultered, and he spoke cheerfully to them. lie as- sured them that they were safe from the cannon shot of the encni}^ — that there were not men enough on board the vessels to storm their Fort, and finally closed with the emphatic declaration : " Give me liberty or give me death /" This saying was repeated by many agonized fathers and motliers on tliat bloody day. A cannonade was soon commenced upon the Fort, but without much apparent effect. The shots were 22 Massacre harmless; they penetrated the earth of which the walls were composed, and were there buried, without further injury. Some two hours were thus spent without injuring any person in the Fort. They then commenced throwing bombs. The bursting of Jhese shells had more effect. There was no shelter from these fatal messages. Mothers gathered their little ones around them and pressed their babes more closely to their bosoms, as one explosion after an- other warned them of their imminent danger. By these explosions some were occasionally wounded and a few killed, until, at length, the shrieks of the wounded and groans of the dying were heard in various parts of the fortress. Do you ask why these mothers and children were thus butchered in cold blood? I answer, they were slain for adhering to the doctrine that " all men are endowed by their Creator with the inalienable right to enjoy life and libertyP Holding to this doctrine of Hancock and of Jefferson, the power of the nation was arrayed against them, and our army employed to deprive them of life. The bombardment was continued some hours with but little effect, so far as tlie assailants could discover. I AT BLOUNT'S Fort. 23 They manifested no disposition to surrender. The day was passing away. Lieut. Loomis called a council of officers and put to them the question, what further shall he done 1 An under officer suggested the propriety of firing ''hot shot at the magazine." The proposition was agreed to. The furnaces were heated, balls were prepared, and the cannonade was resumed. The occupants of the Fort felt relieved by the change. They could hear the deep humming sound of the cannon balls, to which they had become accustomed in the early part of the day, and some made them- selves merry at the supposed folly of their assailants. They knew not that the shot was heated, and wiis ;.h€~sO!i|>os iVoiii llu^ priMoii Ikmimo \va\o prob- !il>lv tioviT boiMi im>i(^ imiiirrous, wov llio anl Miul HViupiithv utVord^nl l)V (Mu'istiuns unno nbuiuhiiit. 'rilUH has TlltC la'.M.MNPKK CM'' WIJM'M lU'lN UK- S'l'lvAlNKO, III llu* iuarM>llous oouNiMsioii o[' this odiiMis h\\\ into an nnli Mlavorv ftiijourv, \cl us liiul i\ lunv nu'tiNo lor \jmH'asins.'; aiul uiiwrni'unl Mi-'ilatioii IVgivin»t nhlViMT, aiul u now ]>Knl^';^^ i-f ulninnlr tiiiimph. /UKCtuH^rxj /ay a.^.^ lUitti«, Juno ltl&3. ^^-^^;;5^^zz- ^ Lo.N'DOX. U'diTdtibc of 3^lbcrt uiiir ISitrir. TT "was a beautiful morning as ever glittered over tlie broad Atlantic. The sun liad the brightness and the sky the soft cerulean with which the month of June adorns the latitude of Carolina. The sea was not heavy nor rolling, but its motion was just enough. to make its waves sparkle under the slanting rays of the morning sun; Mary stood with her betrothed in the bow of the boat, as it gracefully ploughed its way towards New York. She was only eighteen, and Albert was just twenty. Mary was on her way to Troy, to complete her studies in the excellent institution for young ladies, which has sent out some of the brightest ornaments of their sex, to refine and bless the world. She had been entrusted to Albert's care, who was to spend 78 Naerativeof his summer in New York, in tlie pursuit of tlie legal profession. They were both Carolinians, and had no little of that ardent spirit which distinguishes the youth of the South; while their well-developed forms, their intellectual countenances, and their sen- sible speech, placed them in association beyond their years. As Mary leaned upon the arm of her gallant pro- tector, their conversation sparkled as the ocean spray that dashed against steamer's bow. But suddenly, as the jet black eye of Albert Gillon caught the soft blue of Mary's, he started at the discovery of a tear trembling upon her eye-lash. " Sweet Mary, what saddens you ?" "Ah! Albert, the greatest trial of my feelings is the thought that you have never yet consecrated yourself to Christ." "I have," replied Albert, "no natural repugnance to religion. On the contrary, I see and acknowledge God in all his works and in all his providence, as the author and supreme ruler of all things. But, Mary, I do not understand the God of the Bible. I do not understand how they who claim to be God's own people, and have the distinguishing title of Chris- Albert and Mart. 79 tians, are, many of tliem, far worse in moral cliarac- ter, tlian those "wlio make no sucli profession. I do not mean hypocrites; but those who are actually respected as orthodox Christians. There is Mr, Verse, of Philadelphia, for instance, who has a high place as a religious editor, and discusses the doctrines of Christianity with a zeal which shows he takes deep interest in his work, and yet young as I am, and gay as I am, I can see that in his practical application of Christianity, he teaches sentiments at variance with the plainest principles of moral truth ; and he sets himself against those whose moral character is above reproach ; and rebukes them as infidels in their very efforts to elevate the moral tone of society. How is it that Mr. Yerse is recognized as a Christian, and these excellent men are avoided as infidels? "Why is he fit for heaven, and they must be cast down to hell ? I don't understand it." " I know," replied Mary, " that wiser heads than mine find difficulty in answering your question ; and it would be presumptuous in me to signify that I can solve it to your satisfaction. But still, Albert, your observations only confirm, in my own mind, your total ignorance of what constitutes a Christian, Al- > 80 Naekative of loert, it is not morality ; it is not consistency of prac- tice with profession ; it is not tlie doinr/ riglit tliat makes a Christian, for if man could have attained to entire correctness in morals, there wonld have been no such thing as Christianity. But it is because of man's wickedness and his inconsistency, both in the- ory and in practice, that the Christian religion is pre- •sented as the means of attaining to salvation. Christ makes the Christian — the Christian in Christ and Christ in the Christian — a loving, affectionate, en- dearing union — of ignorance with wisdom, of infir- mity with strength, of immorality with virtue. Christ throws his robe of righteousness over the follies and the wickedness of the converted soul, and by cover- ing him with himself, gradually similates him to him- self until what is carnal being cast off, the spiritual remains at death a pure child of God." " Dear me, Mary, you look lovely as you speak this mysterious theology. And I really pant after such feelings as I see beaming from j^our countenance ; but you might just as well speak to me in Arabic for any understanding I can have of this thing called Christianity. It must be something good, or it could not thus fill your own son!, ijitelligent as you are, Albert and Mart. 81 witli a joy tliat makes you indifferent to those gaieties of life "wbicli give me pleasure." " You need," said Mary, " the teachings of God's spirit. You know I took delight in those things a year ago, but God's spirit taught me that I was sin- ning in partaking of them. I was a^ Fayolle's, danc- ing, and, in the midst of a figure in the cotillon, my head became giddy, and I had to be supported to a seat. I soon recovered, but the thought of a sudden death distressed me, for it came very forcibly to my mind — I am a wicked sinner." " 0, Mary, Mary," interrupted Albert, " you did not think yourself a sinner I" " Yes, Albert, I did. I had never thought so be- fore, but had rather prided myself upon being called a good girl by all my acquaintances. But I now saw things in a different light; and when I went Lome and began self-examination, I soon found I had a very wicked heart. I tried to do better, but the more 1 tried to live unto God the more I discovered the proneness of my heart to sin. I tried to think good thouglits, and evil thoughts came directly in my way to mar my peace. Doy after day 1 made effort to purify my thoughts. It was all in vain. A pure T 4* 82 Nareative of tliougbt immediately suggested its opposite, and I found myself more familiar with tlie evil than the good. It shocked me. But I penetrated deeper and deeper into my own heart — into the iniquity of my soul, until I despaired of ever sounding its depth. 1 then cried to God to have mercy on me. He heard my. prayer, and Jesus Christ came to my help. I fjlt that he had suffered in my stead, and had poured out his blood as an atonement for my sins. I found peace to my soul as I cast myself, a poor, helpless sinner, upon his atoning altar, and bathed myself in his all- cleansing blood." Mary could proceed no farther, for the tears began to flow too rapidly, and her emotion might have been noticed by others than Albert. The wind, too, began to rise, and it blew so fresh that they retired to the cabin, where Albert occupied himself with a game of chess, and Mary read, with evident pleasure, such parts of her dearly -prized Bible which suited the state of her mind, occasionally call- ing Albert's attention to some passage particularly striking. In the afternoon, Mary took her seat in a position to enjoy the best view of the western sky, in which Albert AXD Mart. 83 floated, in all tlieir gorgeousness, tlie variegated sun-lit clouds. Albert soon joined lier. " "Well, Marj, 3'-oii seem to be meditating ; but allow me to participate in tlie luxury of your reflections upon that splendid horizon." " Indeed, Albert, I was thinking how much more impressive is such scenery than the traveller on land enjoys. In the rapid succession of scenery and variety of faces, as the coach or tlie steam car drives rapidly onward, everything one sees increases the mind's confusion. Whatever he casts his eye upon, worthy of admiration, attracts his attention but a moment ; and the sublimity of mountain heights, the gaudy decorations of fertile valleys, and the frowning grandeur of rocks, as they cast their dark shadow ujDon some foaming torrent, flit by him as a dream of twilight, and leave upon his memory only pencil out- lines of the beautiful and the sublime. Not so the voyager on the ocean. Here the beautiful imprints itself ineffaceably in all its sparkling and its gorgeous variety iipon the enchanted mind, and the grand and the sublime raise such a tempest of wonder in the soul that the ocean ever after rolls its foaming waves over the broad expanse of memory." 84 Kaeeativeof ' Maiy," said Albert, " tliese clouds, floating so gracefully on the ocean, and this gorgeous horizon in- spiring your poetic fancy, are something more than mere sky drapery, for you'll perceive that the wind is becoming boisterous, and 1 fear we are going to have a stormy night." "You do not feel alarmed, do you Albert?" " I cannot say I feel alarmed ; but I would be more comfortable at this time if I had not so precious a charge. There may be no real danger, but there can be no harm in preparing for what might happen. If we should have a storm I wish you would take your seat on that large box, so as to appropriate it and keep it. Your father brought me two life-preservers and a good cord, when we came on board, and charged me to use them in case of accident. You smile, Mary, at my earnestness, and perhaps my love for you induces anxiety which circumstances do not warant. Still you can kcejD in mind my directions." Albert walked towards the bow of the steamer, while Mary again fixed her attention upon the varie- gated clouds. She did not participate in Albert's apprehensions, and thought his anxiety needless. Yet his earnest request made that sort of impression upon Albert and Mart. 85 her mind -wliicli rather conduced to religious con- templation. The broad disk of the sun could be seen through the floating cloud, and as Albert returned, Mary re- marked :—'' Albert, an hour ago I tried to look at the sun, but his light dazzled my eyes to blindness. I could not mark its shape nor perceive its beauty. But now the cloud floats before it, and through its light vapor I see the sun's circular infinity, and ad- mire its beaut}' and its glory undazzled by its efful- gence. So it is I see God through Christ, as he trans- mits the glory of his Father. And it is by thus see- ing God through Christ, instead of by the ej-es of intellect and mere mental observation, that I obtain hope in God and feel prepared to enter upon the realities of that world which is eternally lighted by the invisible presence of Jehovah. Seeing him in Christ Jesus, I feel an assurance of his mercy, and am freed from those apprehensions which your scep- ticism and distrust occasion yourself." " My dear Mary," replied Albert, " do not suppose my counsel to 3''ou originated in any fear for myself personally. It may be fioin want of reflection, but really I do not know what tlie fear of death is. Your 86 Narbative of safety, Mary, is tlie cause of mj present anxiety. I do not doubt your preparation for eternity, but I am not willing to resign you jet to tbe corapanionsliip of angels. If you jDerisli beueatli these billows, and I survive, my bope for happiness in this life is blasted. What is to be beyond the grave I knov/ not ; and my religion concerns the life that now is. I must make the best of time, and leave eternity to be taken account of when I am fairly launched into it. Per- haps enjoying this world with you, I might learn from you to prepare for eternity. At present my care must be to get my dear Mary safely over this treacherous ocean." The sun now sank beneath the western horizon. The variegated colors of the sky were rapidly com- mingling into one dense canopy of gloom. The passengers earnestly inquired of the captain about the prospect. He hoped to run into the port of Wilmington, but he exhorted them to have brave hearts for the danger was imminent. The storm was rapidly increasing. All urged that the pressure of steam be increased to the utmost capacity of the boat. O, what an anxious crowd were upon the deck of that steamer, as they strained their eyes towards the Albert a.n"d Mart. 87 land, and anon lost their balance bj tlio dashing of the billows! The lightning played with terrific splen- dor, alternating with the blackness of the heavens; and the roar of the waves was only hushed by the awful artillery of the skies. Mary was sitting where Albert had directed, await- ing with great calmness the result of the storm. Albert carefully fastened her with a cord to the box, having first placed beneath her arms the life- preserver. Placing another life-preserver around him- self, he stood by Mary's side with watchful anxiety. Suddenly a heavy sea threw the boat forcibly to one side, and Albert mechanically stretching forth his hand to save himself, accidentally got caught in the rope that he had entwined about the box, and with Mary was tossed into the soa and overwhelmed with the waves. The steamer was several hundred yards ahead of them before Albert succeeded in adjusting his posi- tion to maintain a good hold upon the box. His first thought was to examine how Mary was situated. The lightning gave him sufficient assurance that she was alive and unhurt. At that moment a dreadful explosion directed their eyes towards the steamer, 8S Naeeatiye of and the awful sight vraa exhibited of their late asso- ciates blown into the air and then sinking beneath the waves. The loss of the Pulaski has made many a flowing tear. But few were left to tell tl-e horrors of that night. The public are fiimiliar with their description of the sad disaster. But they knew not the fite of Albert and ^[a^y, and only added them to the cata- logue of the lost It was with the greatest difficulty that Albert could afford his charge any aid, and they must both soon have perished if the storm had been long pro- tracted. But fortunately, the wind shifting, the clouds were soon dispersed, and the stars shone out brightly. Before morning they were rescued from their peril- ous situation, and found themselves, on recovering from their exhaustion, in the comfortable cabin of a fast-sailing brig. The stoim, although exceedingly perilous to a steamboat, was not such as to damage a well-trimmed vessel ; and the brig, soon after the ex- plosion, bore down towards the wreck, and recovered from a watery grave the interesting subjects of our nanativo. Albert AND Mary. 89 Mary was taken on board in a state of entire nn- consciousness, while Albert was too much interested for her to make any special observation of the persons by whom they were rescued. After seeing her sufficiently restored to animation to be left to repose, he retired from her state-room and suffered himself to be assisted to a berth. The sun was high in the heavens when they were awaked from their slumber and invited to breakfast. Every accommodation in the way of dry clothing was supplied them, and they met in the saloon of the brig to embrace, in the transport of grateful hearts. Having recovered their self-possession, they looked around for their deliverers. None were in the saloon with them but a highly-accomplished looking lady and the steward and stewardess! The lady saluted them in the blandest and most refined manner, and expressed her sincere gratifica- tion that they had been so soon delivered from their perilous situation, and were already so well recovered from their exhaustion. " To whom. Madam," said Albert, " are we in- debted for these expressions of kindness and tender sohcitude ?" 90 Naerativeof " I am, sir, the wife of the captain and master of tins brig. My husband will pay you his respects as soon as you have partaken of some of this warm Java and these hot rolls." "I would not," said Mary, " be doing justice to my o\yn feelings were I io sit down to breakfast without first askinG: vour libertv, Madam, to read a beautiful psalm which occurs to my mind at this moment." " Certainly," said the lady ; " and, steward, invite the chaplain in to offer prayer. Doubtless it will be perfectly agreeable to our young guests." A reverend and benevolent looking gentleman, in black, soon entered from the deck, and, in the kindest manner and address, saluted the young couple, ex- pressing, with deep emotion, his sympathy with them and his anxiety in their behalf. Mary pointed out to him the Psalm she had selected. He read it; rhade a few highly-appropriate comments, and, "while all knelt, such a strain of grateful praise and of fervent prayer flowed from the lips of the warm-hearted minister as seldom is surpassed. Mr. Gracelius, for this v^as the minister's name, was of the orthodox faith, and had long been engaged in preaching the doctrines of the Calvinistic school. Yet Albert AX D Mary. 91 he was not bi2:otcd. or riaiJ. His heart was full of the milk of human kindness, and he carried conviction to his hearers, not more bj the strength of his logic than the benignity of his address. lie was just such a minister as the devout and accomplished Mary St. Clair would have full confidence in. She was dc- hghted to think that she had been so fortunate as to meet such a friend and spiritual counsellor at such a time ; and she at once gave utterance to the warm feelings of her heart, and begged that Mr. Gracelius would feel at perfect liberty to counsel and advise her. " ^ly advice then is, my dear young sister, that first of all you sit down to your breakfast, and allow Mrs. Templcton to help you and the young gentleman to your coffee." Albert and Mary could not but feel that they had fallen among true friends. And, having eaten a cheerful breakfast, they both expressed their sincere gratitude to their kind hostess, which she received with equally deep emotion. Captain Templcton now entered, and with gi-eat courtcousness, blended with warmth of address, gave his hand to Albert, and, with a graceful bow to Mary, expressed the pleasure he felt in having rescued them 92 Naerative of from a "s^atery grave. " And now, mj young friends," said tlie Captain, " I wisli yon to make yourselves per- fectly at home in my vessel ; and as soon as I can with safety restore you to your friends, I shall do so." " Permit me to inquire," said Albert, " to what port you are destined ?" " We do not go into any harbor in the United States," replied the Captain ; " but should we meet with a merchant vessel under favorable circumstances, you will be placed on board." " Is not this a merchant vessel ?" inquired Albert. " No, sir. This is an armed brig." " Of what nation ?" asked Albert. The Captain smiled as, with a courteous bow, he ^replied, " We are pirates ;" and immediately went on deck, leaving Albert and Mary in perfect amazement. Recovering himself in a moment, Albert said to Mrs. Templeton : " Your husband is very jocose !" " Xo, su' ; he was serious in what he said. We are pirates. But you need be under no apprehension of danger, nor feel the slightest alarm. I know that you have been trained to believe that pirates are neces- sarily devoid of humane feehngs, and are ever thirst- ing for blood. But I trust we are as hospitable and Albert and Mart. 93 kind a people to om- guests, as are to be found on land." Albert and Mary \rere indeed tlie guests of a pii'at- ical crew ; but tliej were soon relieved of all appre- hension of personal danger ; for tliere was that in the deportment of all on board whicli satisfied tliem of a sincere desire to serve and accommodate tliem in every way. A few days brought them into such intimacy with the crew that they spoke with freedom, even on the subject of piracy. They were indeed astonished to find that even Mr. Gracelius advocated the claims of pirates as a civilized and religious people. On board the brig they had morning and evening prayers, and a lectui-e one evening in the week, and two sermons on the Sabbath. What seemed particu- larly remarkable was the sound evangelical faith of the Captain and his family, and the unexceptionable doctrines that were preached by their minister. ■ There was so much fervor, earnestness, and pathos in the sermons of Mr. Gracelius, that Mary was constrained to admit to Mrs. Templeton that she had never heard ' belter. They had been on the brig about three weeks, 94 Narrative of without any event calculated to disturb the sensibili- ties of our young friends, beyond the unaccountably strange sentiments of the piratical crew. Everything was conducted with so much order and propriety, good taste and moral deportment, that they could scarcely believe at times otherwise than that a mere sportive hoax was being played upon them. But tlie tranquil, social pastimes were now inter- rupted by a new scene of action. It was a pleasant morning ; a gentle breeze fdled the sails. An unusual arrangement of the vessel at- tracted the attention of Albert. Soon he observed men at the guns, and Captain Templeton standing in a commanding position. The brig was bearing down upon a French merchantman. Albert hastened to Mary, and disclosed to her the state of things. Mary at first trembled, but soon com- posed herself with trust in God. Albert, taking her arm into his, led her to where Captain Templeton was standing : "Captain," said Albert, "I perceive you are bear- ing down upon that merchant vessel. Is it your object to place us on board, or do you design to cap- ture her ?" Albert aistdMaey. 95 "Mr. Gillon," replied llie Captain, "I shall see to it that \-ou and your young charge are safely jDrovided for ; and that you may bo perfectly easy on that score, I now inform you that when I take possession of that merchantman, I shall make arrangements for you to be taken in her to a suitable port, whence you can fnid your way to your friends. Be composed now, and pay such attention to Miss St. Clair as the un- usual occasion may seem in j^our judgment to require. In a few moments we shall have somethinii; to do, and perhaps a necessity to use our guns. But I hope not. If 3^ou will retire to the cabin, Mrs. Templeton will enter- tain you there better than you are likely to be on deck." There was so much politeness in the Captain's man- ner, and yet evident fixedness of purpose, that Albert attempted no answer. There was now no doubt that " their hospitable entertainers were pirates. They re- tired to the cabin, and sat there in profound silence. Soon Mrs. Templeton came in, and in her gentle win- ning manner began to prepare Mary for the scenes that might transpire. " You must not be alarmed, my dear. You will be perfectly safe. I only regret we are so soon likely to lose your company." 96 Narrative of "0 Mrs. Templeton!" said Marj^, "how can you prosecute sucli a life ! It is so wicked ! Excuse me, ma'am, but I cannot suppress my feelings of horror." At this moment the conversation was interrupted by the entrance of Captain Templeton, who, with a calm countenance, said : — " Wife, I perceive that there are several guns on that vessel, and I judge that the crew and passengers are somewhat numerous. We shall have to proceed with caution, and as we are likely to have somewhat of a warm time, I think I should feel better satisfied to have a season of prayer." Albert knit his brow in moody silence. Mary heaved a deep sigh. Mr. Gracelius was called in, and having read the 20th Psalm, he offered up the following prayer : — " Oh ! Thou mighty God of Jacob, who didst accom- pany Thine ancient Israel through all their trials, and didst fight their battles for them, we thank Thee that Thou hast taught us to put our trust in Thee. And we beseech Thee, oh ! blessed Father, for the sake of Tliine own Son Jesus Christ, to help us at this time in our endeavor to appropriate to the support of this branch of thy Zion, the treasures which, for the mere Albert AND Mary. 97 purposes of an unliallowed commerce, are being transported to that people who have ever distin- guished themselves bj their infidelity, and bj their scorn of all true religion; who have also by their mighty leaders devastated kingdoms and shed seas of blood to gratify a ain -glorious ambition. " Oh ! Lord, we would not shed blood needlessly and we therefore pra / Thee to enable us in the ap proaching conflict, to h?ve a single eye to Thy glory, and thus preserve a cajm and kind temper, whatso ever may be the resistance offered on this occasion And wilt Thou, Lord, as.-ist our beloved captain to do his duty, and to so command his men and order the battle, that when all shah be over, he may have a conscience void of offence towards God and to- wards man. And whatsoever treasures may come to us, may we gratefully employ in Thy service and to Thy glory, remembering that Jesus Christ, who died for us and rose again for our justification, first became poor, that we through his poverty might be made rich, and therefore that we ought to use our wealth to the advancement of Christianity in our own souls and among our fellow-beings, as the best evidence of our gratitude for our earthly prosp:^rity, and for those 5 98 Nakrativeof treasures wliicli are laid up for us in heaven ; and to Thy gracious name, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, be the praise forever. Amenr The tone of the chaplain's voice, the fervid manner and the striking pathos of this short prayer, had a strong effect upon Captain Temp eton and his wife. They both rose from their knees with tears in tLeir eyes. The Captain grasped the aand of Mr, Gracelius, and earnestly said: "I feel PLrengthened, my brother; and I can noAV saj'. If the Lord be for us, who can be against us !" He then ]jassed out and resumed his position on the deck. " Miss St. Clair," said Mrs, Templeton, " do you think that can be wickedness which the Lord sancti- fies with his communion ?" Before Mary could reply, tlie loud report of a cannon gave notice that the action had com- menced. The struggle was a short one, the French vessel was captured, with the loss of her commander, who fell at the first fire. It took but a short time to have all on the merchantman in fetters, and the vessel manned by the pirates. Albert AND Mary. 99 It was not until the morning after tlie capture tlaat matters became composed on the pirates' vessel, and everything in usual order. At breakfast Mary took the liberty to ask the Cap- tain v/hat he designed to do with his prisoners. " I alwaj^s endeavor," he replied, " to remember the obligations of humanity and Christianity. Some- times, for our own safety, we are compelled to put our captives to death, but I do so always with great re- luctance, and never without prayer to God that their souls might be saved. In this case I think we shall not be under this painful necessity." " Captain," said Albert, "it is perfectly unaccount- able to me how a man of your naturally humane and benevolent disposition can engage in this business of robbery and murder." " Well, Mr. Gillon," replied the Captain, " I make every allowance for one who has been educated as you have been, and taught that pirates were on]}^ worthy of the gallows ; although I cannot but feel that your language is not such as your refined and polished manners would warrant me to expect and require. Our business is not robbery and murder. The laws under which we live, both social and politi- 100 Naerative of cal, are as decidedly opposed to sucli crimes as among any otlier people." "I did not," replied Albert, "intend to be nngentle- mauly in my language, and was not aware that these terms were offensive to you. But, sir, you only in- crease my amazement. I cannot comprehend how you can characterize your business by terms more ap- propriate. Is it not so that piracy is but the practice of robbery and murder, when it takes away a man's possessions, and then destroys his life to make the booty secure?" " I perceive, Mr, Gillon, that you labor under the delusion that all pirates are bad and cruel men. I confess, sir, there are many of our people who treat their prisoners with unnecessary severity, and fre- quently inflict death when the occasion does not de- mand it. But, my dear sir, this is the abuse of piracy, not its legitimate use." " And do you really mean to say. Captain Temple- ton," said Mary, "that piracy can be made an honor- able business?" " Of course I do, miss," re|)lied the Captain, " and I regret that Miss St. Clair can suppose I would engage in a business that I did not believe to be honorable." Albert and Mary. 101 P " But, Captain, you profess to be a Christian, and it 13^ great m3'sterY to me how 3'ou can reconcile your profession with 3-our practice. Surel}^ you do not be- lieve that the Scriptures justify such a life." " That is precisely my belief, Miss," replied the Cap- tain. " Piracy is a Bible institution, and if it were not so, I would abandon it at once." "Ah!" said Albert, "that accounts for it. It is that belief in the Bible that leads the mind and the heart astray from the clear principles of a sound moral philosophy. Even my good Mary, here, is so warped by her reverence for the Bible, that she defends the institution of slavery, which. I abhor with all my heart. But, Captain, although I am not surprised at your belief that the Bible sanctions piracy, since it is c[uoted by Christians in support of all sorts of wicked- ness, I am surprised that a man of your good sense and keen moral perception in regard to other matters of life, should not perceive that slaverj^, and pirac}-, and war, and everything of the sort, are irreconcil- able with sound morality." "I do not know," rcjjlied the Captain, "what might be the conclusions of abstract reasoning upon the subject outside of the Bible, for I have never i 102 Narrative of tliougTit ver}^ profoundlj about it. But I feel satisfied so long as I have tlie assurance that the levealed "Word is on my side." " But, Captain," said lln.rj, " I am not willing to allow that the Bible is on your side. It shocks me to hear you say so." " "Well, Miss St. Clair, I must turn you over to bro- ther Gracelius, who is well posted up in Bible matters. He will be able to show you that piracy is a Bible in- stitution." " Yes, my young sister," said Mr. Gracelius, who had not been inaitentive to the conversation, while he was enjoying an e.vcellent cup of coffee. " The Scrip- tures do most ccrt-dnly sanction the institution of piracy." Here Mr. Gracelius took from his pocket a small Bible, and proceeded to say : "On such a question, I am strongly disposed to jass by all ethical and meta- physical dissertation, and Appeal at once to the only standard of right and wrong ^vhich can prove decisive. It is the responses of the sat ted oracles to which we must after all appeal." " I could wish, Mr. Gracelivv ' said Albert, " that you would discuss this questio? •<'at\er upon the foun- Albert and Mary. 103 dation principles of morality, tlian by arguments from a volume wbicli sanctions war, slaverj", deatli penal- ties, and a liost of other evils, by tlie very confessions of Christians themselves." " I perceive," said Mr. Gracelius, " that you, sir, have never yet learned the true Grace of God throuirh regeneration, or you too would bow submissively to the teachings of the sacred Scriptures, and acknowl- edge them as the highest standard of right and moral- it}'. I cannot, therefore, liope to seriously affect j'our mind by an appeal to the Bible. But Miss St. Clair, being a Christian, will feel the force of such high authority." " Truty, Wx. Gracelius," said Mary, " I do take the Bible as my highest standard of truth ; and it is from the principles taught by the Bible that I have the assurance that piracy is awfully criminal. And I am utterly astonished that a man of your apparent piety, and who so well understands the doctrines of Chris- tianity, can for a moment think that the Bible justifies such crimes." " My dear young sister," said the minister, " you are begging the question when you call piracy a crime, for that is the very thing you arc to prove. But let us see what piracy is : 104 Narrative of " In order to clear away rubbish, and to arrive at once at the point, let me remind you that it is simply the essential character of piracy which we are discuss- ing. Piracy itself is nothing more tlnan the appro- priating of the products of another's labor and skill, without his consent or contract. The absence of the contract, or the consent of the producer, does not alter the nature and extent of the pirates' right. The case is analogous to that of parents and children. A father has a right to the productions of his child's labor during his minority, without the contract or consent of the child, and he may even transfer that right. But I grant that this does not justify the father in doing anything to the detriment of the child, either morally, intellectually, or physically. And, beyond doubt, this is the true light in which Christianity would have pirates regard their relations. The capture of a vessel, and the treatment of prisoners, involve a great respon- sibilitf. Nothing more should be done than is abso- lutely essential to the maintenance of the peculiar institutions of piracy. It is not the relation of the pirate to the producer or prisoner which is sinful, but infidelity to the solemn trust which that relation creates. It does not follow, because he has a right to Albert and Mary. 105 the produce of anotlier's labor or skill, tliat lie lias also a right to inflict unnecessary violence on his per- son, or take from him all means of livelihood. When- ever it can he done, ^\-ithout jeopardizing the well- being and interests of our society and institutions, we ought to spare the prisoner's life, make him comfort- able while in our hands, place him as soon as possible where he can return to his home, and leave him means enough to keep him from starving or absolute desti- tution. " To include in the idea of piracy, that also of rob- bery and murder, is to confound two things entirely distinct, and which really have no sort of connection. If I take from another that w^hich I have no right to b}^ the laws of the society or government under w^hich I live, then 1 am a robber ; for that aloiie is property which the law makes property', as one of your own great statesmen has very properly said ; and rf I take life, when not essential to maintain my own rights under the laws of that government which I recognize in my social obligations, I am a murderer. I therefore insist upon it, that, in discussing this subject, we re- gard as appropriate to the question only the es- sential elements of piracy, and not its abuses; for 5* 106 Kaeeative of piracy may exist without inflicting tliese aggTavated wrongs. " Christian pirates have great regard for the welfare, temporal and sj^iritual, of their fellow-beings, and oftentimes exercise the spirit of the most self-denying missionaries. Such men and women do honor to human nature. They are the true friends of their race. "Now, here is piracy — a sj'-stem of society and government which gives opportunity to inculcate among graceless men who fall into our hands the principles of the Gospel of Christ; and many an ungodly man has had the opportunity in our cabin of hearing the doctrines of the cross, who, whilst immersed in the business, and cares, and pleasures of life, never darkened the door of a meeting-house on land. And many of them have been converted to the Christian faith, and have become excellent and worthy Christian pirates. " Those of our captains who have Christian sailors under them have the best-managed vessels ; and really their crews do more of effective work, both in battle and in ship duties, than any ungodly crew that can be found. Albert and Mart. 107 "No, Sister Marj, depend upon it, you have im- bibed a prejudice against piracy, and you suppose it to involve all sorts of crime. But the true question of issue between us is pruned to this j — Is it neces- sarilv a crime in the siarht of God to control the property, or curtail the personal liberty, or take the life of a human being in any case ? " Every government has necessarily a right to pass laws indispensable to its existence ; and it has a right, also, to establish those regulations which shall best promote the good of the whole population. jSTow, what political organization is most desirable for a particular people, depends on circumstances ; but, whatever be that adopted, whether democracy, or despotism, or piratical confederation, the rights of man, as a human being, are trenched upon ; and visionary have proved and will prove all projects of constructing and fashioning society according to philosophical notions and theories of abstract un- alienable rights. That piracy or any civil institution interferes with the property of a man, or a class of men (as, for instance, merchants), docs not then make it necessarily, and, amid all circumstances, a crime." 108 Narrative of Mr. Gracelins liere paused, and gave Marj an opportimitj to put in a word. "But," said she, "after taking off wliat you call the rubbish, Mr. Gracelius, and pruning the question down as much as you please, I cannot possibly admit that the Bible anywhere justifies piracy under any circumstances whatsoeT^er, either abstractly or practically. I call upon jou for anything in all the Bible that gives the slightest countenance to such a mode of life, or such a government, as jou are pleased to term it." " I should rather require of you," replied the learned divine, " to make out from the Bible your charge that piracy is a crime. I know not a word from the first of Genesis to the end of Eevelation where piracy is once condemned. But I pass this, and, waiving my clear logical rights, undertake to prove the negative, and to show that the Bible does, most explicit! 3^, both by precept and example, bear me out in my assertion, that piracy is not neces- sarily, and always, and amidst all circumstances, a sin. What God sanctioned in the Old Testa- ment, AND permitted IN THE NeW, CANNOT BE SIN. "I begin with the patriarch Jacob, whose name Albert and Mary. 109 Israel has been appropriated from his day to this time to the true church. IIo\y did Jacob acquire his great riches? Was it not by appropriating the propert}^ of Laban to himself? And did not God bless him in thus doing? There is not a word of condemnation ; but, _ on the contrary, Jacob, in telling his brother that he had much proj)erty, re- marked, that God had dealt graciously Avith him. Here, you see, is a marked case of an appropria- tion of another's property by a very adroit strat- agem, "vrhich is fully justified by the Old Testament, and uncondemned by the New. " Had Jacob not represented in his person a different community from Laban's, of which he was to be the Patriarch, his mode of acquiring wealth out of Laban would have been censurable. But his conduct to- wards Laban was consistent with what was subse- quently allowed under the Mosaic laws on the part of the Jews towards other nations. They could, for instance, make slaves of the nations round about ; — they could take usury of them ; — they could despoil them by war, and they could do- a variety of things in relation to the people of other nations which would have been robbery, fraud, murder, and so on, if done 110 Naeeative of by Jews to Jews. Tlius tlie idea tliat tliat is prop- erty -sfliicli tlie law makes property, is of divine origin. " Take now the case of tlie Israelites in tlieir exodus from Egypt ; tliey were positively enjoined by the Divine command to borrow of tlieir Egyptian neigh- bors tlicir various costly jeweleries, not with the idea of returning tbem, but of appropriating them perma- nently to their own benefit. " David, who was a man after God's own heart, did not regard it robbery to obtain from the Priest the shew-bread itself, although to do so he deceived the Priest by telling that which, under other circum- stances, would be called a he. It was essential to his life — ^to his support. It was not therefore criminal to tell the falsehood in order to obtain the bread. Now, it is upon this very principle that your government and all civil governments employ diplomatic agents, in order to secure by adroitness and craftiness commer- cial and other advantages; and it is upon the same principle that we^ pirates justify our proceedings. It is essential to the support and maintenance of our people; and there is as much in the Scriptures to warrant our stratagems to decoy vessels and get the Albeet and Mary. Ill benefit of their cn.rgocs, as for your government to ob- tain advantages by diplomatic adroitness. We must have a living. - " But you say ^^•e not only rob but murder. But as all appropriations of others' possessions are not es- sentially robbery, so all killing is not essentially mur- der. If you will look into the Book of Judges, xiv. 19, you will find that the taking of spoil even by violence and bloodshed, is not necessarily a crime — ^is not necessarily robbery and murder. It is the case '*; of Samson when he had to give thirty changes of raiment to those w^ho had expounded his riddle. It is said : " And the Spirit of the Lord came upon him, and he went down to Askelon and slew thirty men of them, and took their spoil, and gave change of garments unto them which expounded the riddle." Now, notice this particularly, that Samson did all this under the influence of God's Spirit. And you will remember that Paul in Hebrews mentions Samson ^^'ith special commendation. " Now, if Samson, and David, and Jacob did such things, we feel justified in proceeding accordingly. " But as I have not time to go into very minute de- *,ail, I pass at once to two very important points in 112 Narrative of tlie New Testament. The tirst occurs in Christ's parable of the unjust steward. There the steward is commended for making an arrangement by which he secured his permanent interest by adroitly subtracting from what was due his Lord by his debtors. He had acted unjustly in the ofl&ce of steward, being bound by honor to fulfil its duties and his obligations to his employer, but so soon as his obligations to his em- ployer ceased on being ordered out of the steward- ship, and his very living cut off, then it was no longer unjust, but commendable to do that which before would have been fraud or robbery. " The other case is that of our blessed Lord himself. He sent his disciples to take away from the placo where they were tied an ass and her colt ; and he told them how to escape should they be caught *at it, hy saying : ' The Lord hath need of them.' Now, when we take away the property of others, we may reply to those who question us, ' The Lord hath need of them,' for every good pirate will endeavor so to us6 what he obtains as to promote the best interests of religion, and to glorify our blessed Eedeemer. " And now, my dear young sister, what more need I say to establish the point that piracy is not essen- Albert and Mary. 113 tially sinful — tliat it is not malum in se f Indeed, it stands upon the same footing tliat slavery does, and is vindicated by the same process of reasoning. The argument for slavery is identically the same in prin- ciple as for piracy. And you know it is upon the ground that slavery is not under all circumstances a sin, that Christians in the Northern States hold com- munion with you of the South. And I admire that charitable spirit which induces them to believe that Southern Christians do not uphold the barbarous fea- tures which wicked and cruel masters impress upon the system of slavery. They give you, therefore, very properl}^, the right hand of Christian fellowship, which they could not do if slavcholding were sin in itself And I doubt no't they would as readily com- mune with Christian pirates, since it is evident that pirac}' is not, any more than slavery, malum in se." Mary made no reph^, but sat musing with a coun- tenance overwhelmed with sadness. Mr. Gracclius looked as though he had accom- plished a decided victory; and Captain Templeton smiled with approbation. Albert after a short silence exclaimed with great emphasis : "I thank God my Bible is my reason, my 114 Nakrative of conscience^ and my heart. I tliis day glory in being an infidel." " Oil ! Albert, Albert !" cried Mary, and buret into tears. Albert seeing he liad wounded tlie feelings of one lie loved so dearly, tried to soothe lier by remarking that he had met at the North with some persons who maintained that the Bible was misunderstood and misinterpreted by the most of the commentators and theologians, and that when rightly explained and re- ceived, would be found to be perfectly in harmony with the symj)athies and philanthropic emotions of the human heart, and with the principles of enlight- ened reason. But as these persons were generally called fanatical and visionary, he had not paid much attention to their strictures. " I intend, however," he added, "to take an early opportunity to investigate the Bible for myself, and if it prove itself to be better than its commentators and expounders, perhaps I shall become a Christian. But I cannot be a Chris- tian if Christianity props up slaveholding and piracy." Here the conversation was interrupted by the en- trance of a messenger, who announced that every preparation had been made, and that Mr. Gillon and Albert and Mary. 115 Miss St. Clair could now go on board tlie mercTiant vessel. On rising to depart, Albert with much feeling addressed the Captain : " Captain Templeton, we are much indebted to you for saving our lives, and for the hospitality and very kind attentions we have received. I would that I could repay yon in some way. But you will pardon me, so young a man, for expressing the profound wish of my heart, that you would abandon this horrible life, and no longer delude yourself with the idea that the ^^ Bible is the highest authority for the regulation of man's life. Recognize every man, everywhere, as your brother, and treat all as you have treated Mary and myself, — treat all as your own heart, left to its most benevolent promptings, would dictate, and (the Bible to the contrary notwithstanding) you will please God better than you can do by any adherence to theo- logical dogmas, that make the Almighty the author of piracy, slavery, Avar, death-penalties, and such like institutions and practices." "And I, too, hope," replied Captain Templeton, " that you will look into this matter with care, and come to the conclusion to follow that good book rather than the ignis fatuus of mere human reason 116 Narrative of and natural conscience. I admire your honesty and candor, Mr. Gillon, and, altliougTi I cannot but regard your views as fanatical, I trust that when the ardor of youth shall give place to the reflections of maturer years, you will be as firm a believer in the Bible as I am." " Ah !" said Mr. Gracelius, " that will depend upcn the grace of God. Farewell, young man, and may the Lord convert your soul and give us a happy meet- ing ag^in, where we shall sing the song of the Lamb forever and ever." Mary, still in tears, took Mr. Gracelius by the hand and said : " Mr. Gracelius^ I am not at all convinced that the Scriptures favor your views, although I am not pre- pared to meet your arguments. But I fear you have so confirmed Albert in his infidelity, that it will be exceedingly hard to get him hereafter even to listen to Christian instruction." " Oh ! my young sister,", replied the minister, " the grace of God can conquer the worst of infidels, and I hope your friend will yet become an ambassador of Christ." By this time the party were standing on deck, ready Albeet and Mary. 117 to bid tlie last adieu. Our young friends were soon on board the merchant vessel and out of siglit of their strange benefactors. They found that tlie pirates bad liberated the crew and passengers, and returned tbem to their vessel, re- taining only the ricli cargo. Having been well supplied with funds, in gol^ when they left home, which Albert had about his per- son when taken up by the pirates, they found no difli- culty, on reaching France, in making their way to England, and thence to the United States. On the voyages Albert perused the Scriptures with great attention, not only because Mary had urged him to do so, but because he felt that he needed to be in- formed of the true nature and character of what was claimed to be sacred writings. He was careful to avoid conversation on the subject during the progress of his investigations; and Mary herself was not, after her last interview with Mr. Gracelius, sufficiently f|uieted in her own mind to give expression to her thoughts. It was in November, when an Indian summer was augmenting the beauty of the scenery about the har- bor of New York, that oar young friends were sittiug 118 Narrative of togetlier in Mary's spacious state-room on board tlie noble vessel wliicli was j ust passing Staten Island. "Albert," said Mary, witli deep emotion, and the tear in her eye, " I have become an Abolitionist." " And I," said Albert, with yet deeper emphasis, " have become a Christian." " Thank God— thank God !" exclaimed Mary. " 0, Albert, I cannot tell jom how happy I am to hear yon say so. But I do not need any explanation, for I see through it all. The pirates have made me an Abo litionist, and the Bible has made you a Christian. ] have now learned how to understand its teachings, and you have learned that the precious volume har> been grievously tortured to uphold the evil instead of the good." " It is even so, Mary," replied Albert. " I have been reading and studying with an earnest desire for truth. I find much, in the Old Testament, calculated to bewilder, and much that requires the New Testa- ment to explain. I find, scattered through the Old Testament, holy principles that are brought into full relief by Jesus Christ, who has, by his example, and in his instructions to his disciples, elucidated what was obscure and rejected from the claims of divine Albert and Mary. 119 autliority wliat was only Jewisli misconception. I am satisfied that it does not uphold violence, oppression, and wrong, and throw around these things the sanc- tion of the divine mind. I find that everything taught by Jesus Christ is in fall harmony with the most benevolent and honorable feelings of the human heart, and with the highest sense of justice and consciousness of right, and is diametrically opposed to all base carnal passions and affections, and to all that is violative of human equahty and brotherhood. "I believe in Jesus Christ. And I had the ideal of such a Saviour for man before I saw that the Jesus of the New Testament is the true Captain of Salva- tion. And now I find that such a Saviour really ex- ists, I am willing to follow his leadings, although I know it will require self-denials and sacrifices. I tell you, Mary, I found out from reading the Bible that I was an unregenerated man, and needed God's spirit to purify and sanctify my heart ; and I have learned this from studying carefully the life and doctrines of Christ, who, in the flesh, gave a full manifestation of the godhead, and by Ids righteousness brought to my O'A'n view my unrifjhieousncss. " I road of Jesus dying on the cross rather than not 120 Naeeative of carry out every jot and every tittle of tlie divine mo- rality, and every principle of pure and undefiled re- ligion. I stand in admiration of this divine heroism. I learn farthef that his gi'eat mission was to induce sinful man {o abandon his sins and become reconciled to God ; and that it was in carrying out this mission that he subjected himself to the tortures of the cross. Under the influence of God's Spirit, this brings me to true repentance, and I determine to reform by taking Jesus as my exemplar and the captain of my salva- tion. I am thus made reconciled to God's law, and feel pardoned for the past and hopeful for the future. My faith in Christ gives me strength to live the life of a Christian, and thus I am saved. Jesus Christ's death has in this way reconciled me to God, and being thereby brought into harmony with God, God is reconciled to me. Jesus Christ therefore making atonement or reconcihation for me, has truly suffered in my stead. That is to say, his suffering in order to impress me with my obligations to God and his law, has by reconciling me to God's law, kept me from suf- fering the penalty of law. And when I think that God made this provision for this fallen woild — ^that lie gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever be- Albert axd Mary. 121 lievetli in liim should not perisli but have eternal life, and I realize it all with trust and confidence, I feel that the kingdom of heaven is within me. I am truly happy." " My dear Albert," responded Mary, " you make me to see all this in a new light. I confess I never before properly understood the doctrine of the atone- ment. I did not before understand that atonement for man, and reconciliation between God and man, were one and the same thing. But I now perceive that there is no atonement unless we become Christ- like; and that just in proportion as we are Christ-like, we are in harmony with God, and are thus far saved. •God converts the soul from the love of sin to the love of Christ, and that love of Christ insures obedi- ence to his commandments to the full measure of our knowledge. To be clothed upon then with the righte- ousness of Christ, and to have Christ's righteousness imputed to us, are not terms signifying a righteous- ness extraneous from ourselves, and only regarded in place of righteousness in us, but leally and truly to manifest a righteousness which will be seen and rec- ognized by our ownselves and others as a righteous- ness derived from Christ, because we live as Christ 122 Nareative of wauld have us to live. liow pleasant it is to see tlie matter in so clear a liglit !" " And now," said Albert, " I wish to know how it is jou a little while ago called yourself an Abolition- ist. Did you really mean what you said in its fall import ?" " Yes I did," replied Mary. " That argument made by Mr. Gracelius was so exactly similar to the mode of interpreting the Scriptures in behalf of slavery, that I at once saw if it were good for slavery, it was just as good in defence of piracy ; and that I must give up the Bible under such a mode of interpreta- tion, or admit that piracy itself is sanctioned by the Bible. I could not give up my precious Bible, for I have felt so much of its hallowed influences upon my soul, that I could not think of parting from it, I have, like yourself, spent this voyage studying it with great care, and whatever may be the criticisms of the learned upon words, I am certain that the whole spirit of Christianity, as developed before and since Cln-ist, utterly condemns any and every system, or practice, or principle which does not recognize all men as brethren. And I also perceive that many thina:s have been wrested from their original meaning Albert and Mary. 123 to subserve the purposes of oppression and tyranny. I now so read that good book, that I discriminate be- tween the erroneous ideas and practices of the Jews "and the divine law — between historical facts and tra- ditional inferences — between man's misconceptions and the true principles of religion. I now can and do see from the Bible itself that slavery is all wrong ; and being so, I am obliged to be an Abolitionist ; for I know that no Christian ought to continue the prac- tice of what is wrong in itself on any consideration. But, Albert, how was it that you who did not believe in the Bible, became an Abolitionist ?" " Why, Mary, the truth is, I did not believe in the Bible, because, being an Abolitionist, professed Chris- tians and ministers instructed me that the Bible sanctioned slavery, and that it required obedience to earthly masters and rulers, even altliough their com- mands and laws be contrary to the divine law. This was so contrary to my sense of natural right, that I said to myself I cannot honor the true God by sub- mitting to the authority of the Bible ; and therefore it was I i/^ok an utter aversion to the Bible. My respect for my parents prevented me from telling thcra when they would urge me to read the Bible, 124 Naeeative of that tlieir own views and practice liad already con- vinced me that it was an nnrigliteous book; for I could not believe that my father would hold slaves ander any conviction of its rightfulness drawn from nature, and that my mother would treat the blacks as she did, had she been governed by her natural sense of justice ; but that by early education in the Bible, they had been trained to regard slaveholding perfectly compatible with the divine law, and the black as some heathenish being, whom it was no oppression to en- slave. But now having examined the Bible with care, I see that they who take that Book to justify the enslaving of men, have been most dreadfully deluded." " Well, Albert," said Mary, " you know the obliga- tions of Christianity require action as well as senti- ment. If we are Christians truly, we have to serve Christ fully. We dare not, therefore, withhold our testimony against slavery any more than against any other crime. How then can we return to Carolina ? We cannot be haj)py there amidst an institution which we abhor." "Mary, like yourself, I now feel," said Albert, "that a Christian must not hide his light under a Albert and Mary. 125 busliel. We must speak for the dumb and for tlie trutli as it is in Jesus. But witli sucli views and in- tentions we would not be suffered in South Carolina. "What, then, are we to do ?" Marj, after a few moments' meditation, answered, "Albert, our parents think we were lost with the Pulaski. Let it stand so. They will suffer more if T\'e go back to them with such sentiments as we now entertain. And for your sake, and for our parents' sake, and for the sake of Christ, I am will- ing to sacrifice all my worldly prospects and try to make a living by my own exertions in some place where my own feelings will not be shocked with the perpetual violation of Christian law by my own slave- holding relatives, and where I shall not be myself an annoyance to them." Here their di,alogue was interrupted by the arrival of the ship at the wharf, and in a short time our young friends were safely landed in New York. Sufi&ce it to say, in conclusion, that they both agreed never more to be dependent on the wealth of their parents, — assured as they wxre that all they could bestow upon them would be the product of unrequited toil. They were soon united m holy wedlock, and, 126 Narrative of after engaging in teaching an academy a sliort time, Albert became a faitliM and zealous minister of tlie ; gospel ; and be and bis loving wife in process of time I succeeded in revealing tbeir situation to tbeir parents, -in sucb terms as to reconcile tbem to tbeir anti-slavery views, and to induce tbem finally to emancipate tbeir slaves. Tbey are all living bappily in moderate circum- stances, in a little town in one of tbe free States, — in tbe direct line of tbe "under-ground railroad;" and many a poor fugitive finds a comfortable sbelter in eitber of tbeir bumble cottages. A sbort time since, Mary was reading tbe discussion between Dr. Wayland and Dr. Fuller, on tbe subject of slavery, and was startled to find tbe very words of Mr. Gracebus and bis identical argument, used by tbe cbampion of American slavery. " Albert," said sbe to ber busband, " would you be- lieve it. Dr. Fuller and Mr. Gracebus are one and tbe same person." f " It surely cannot be !"' said Albert. But to tbis day tbe matter looks very mysterious to tbem. And it is boped tbat Dr. Fuller or Dr. Wayland will ex- Albert and Mart. 127 plain the coincidence of tlie arguments in some satis- factory manner. //^^-^z^:^/. 2-t>X Coil anil Crust. mniS is tLe motto of all persons sincerely disposed to embrace tlie cross of tlie anti-slavery enterprise. The duty it imposes is two-fold; 1. To toil for tlie spread of tlie trutli ; and 2. To trust to the dissipation of error. The most potent barrier set up against the opponents of slavery is made of the prejudices care- fully instilled into the popular mind against thejn. I propose, in brief, to point out their origin. It is sedulously inculcated : 1. That anti-slavery is a pure sectional feeling, and springs from jealousy of the South. Fifty years ago this idea might fairly have been entertained. Many of the arguments then used have no better root than political jealousy. But it is not so BOW. The ruling objection at present is, that slavery is WRONG, no matter where it may be found ; that it Toil and Trust. 129 is a moral evil, and an offence against religion, not less tlian a great political curse ; that indifference to it among good men encourages its extension among bad men ; and that nothing but resolute and universal condemnation of it in every form will stimi its abolition. How far these views are from of the Soutli, must appear obvious enough to reflect that those who entertain them, consider the result to be arrived at as one which must spring from the voluntary convictions of those most affected by it, that they are getting rid of the only serious draw- back to their own prosperity. Of course, then, it is the best interests of the South, — their strength, moral, social, and pohtical, — that auti-slavery men believe they are promoting, hj then' course. 2. That the enemies of slavery desire to subvert the Constitution and to dissolve the Union. Possibly, a few impatient sj;)lrits may have got so far. They constitute, however, but a very small portion of the number included in the term. Nine- tcnths of these hold that neither the Constitution nor the Union should be brought into question at aU. They consider that the resort to them as a protection and safeguard to slavery, by ill-judging and rash 6* 180 Toil and Trust. conservatives, lias done more to put tliem into serioiis danger, than tlie acts of all others combined during the present century. Any man who relies upon a good government to sustain acknowledged evil, does modify the notions of goodness which honest scientious men have entertained respecting rernment. He furnishes an entering wedge for doubt and distrust, which, if not removed, will grow into aversion. Anti-slavery men reason differ- ently. They separate slavery from the Constitu- tion and the Union, and, by seeking to destroy the former, desire to perpetuate the latter. They hold, that against the concentrated moral sentiment of the whole country, acting through its legitimate public channels, and aided by the prayers and the hopes of all the civilized world, it would be much more difficult to maintain slavery in the States, than if the dangers of general misgovernment and disunion were to come in to distracL the public attention, and open up social disasters of a worse kind than those which they seek to remedy. 3. The spirit of this reform is denunciatory, violent, and proscriptive. It is inevitable that aU movements directed against Toil and Trust. 131 the established errors of comiminities originate witli men more or less fanatical in spirit. None but tbey liave the necessary elements of character to advance at all. But, as others become convinced of the fun- damental truths which they utter, the tendency_Qi association is to modify and soften the tone, it more nearly approximate the correct sen! At this period, there is quite as much of hberality among anti-slavery men as is consistent with a deter- mined maintenance of their general purpose. Though disposed to be just to all who conscientiously differ ^\•ith them in opinion, they cannot overlook the fact that many honest persons are too indifferent, and more are too compromising in their views of slavery. To rouse the one, and alarm the other class into a conviction of their responsibility for their apathy, is one of the most imperative duties. It may be that this is not always done in the most courtly or the choicest terms. Some allowances must be made for the spirit of liberty. These cases form, however, the exception, and not the rule, among anti-slavery men. The great majority well comprehend that the greatest results will follow efforts made -without bitterness of temper. They remember that whilst the Saviour 132 Toil. AND Trust, denounced -witliout stint tlie formal scribe, tlie hollow Pharisee, and the greedy money-changer, he chose for his sphere of exertion the society of publicans and sinners, iti- slavery men seek to set slaves against their at the risk of the lives and happiness of botliT This impression, which is much the most common, is, at the same time, the least founded in truth of all. lsro*evidence, worthy of a moment's credit, has ever been produced, implicating any class of them in a suspicion of the kind. Nothing proves the absence of all malignity towards the slaveholders more clearly than this. If they sought really to injure them, what could be more easy than to stimulate disaffection along so extensive a line of boundary as that of the slave States ? Probably few of them entertain any doubt of the abstract right of the slave to free himself from the condition in which he is kept against his own con- sent, in any manner practicable. How easy then the step from this opinion to an act of encouragement ! That it has never been taken furnishes the most con- clusive proof of the falsity of the popular impression, and of the moderations of the anti-slavery men, who Toil and Teust. 133 seek only, in the moral convictions of the masters, for the source of freedom to the slaves. But though it be true that all these common im- pressions are delusions strewn in the way of anti- slavery men to impair the effect of their exertions, it by no means follows that they should be indi them to assume a moderation which encourages sluggishness. No great movement in human affairs can be made without zeal, energy, and perseverance. It must be animated by a strong will, and tempered by a benevolent purpose. Such is the shape which the anti-slavery reform is gradually assuming. Its motto, then, should be, as was said in the beginning : "toil and teust." QuiNCT, 10 July, 1853. Irinifelji.]) for tlje ^lubc is |ricufeljij for TT is a mistake on tlie part of tlie people of tlie south to suppose tliat tliose who desire the extinc- tion of slavery, whether residing in America or Eng- land, are actuated by unfriendly feelings toward them personally, or by any hostihty to the pecuniary or social interests of their section of country. The most important and influential classes of the population, both of England and of the northern States of this Union, have a direct and strong pecuniary interest at stake, in the prosperity and welfare of the south. If the people of Massachusetts or those of Lancashire were employed in raising cotton and sugar, and if the prices which they obtained for their produce were kept down by southern competition, then there might perhaps be some ground for suspecting a covert hos- tility in any action or influence which they might at- tempt to exert on such a question. But the contrary Friendship for the Slave. 135 is the fact. New England and Old England manufac- ture and consume the cotton and sugar whicli tlie south produces. They are directly and deeply inter- ested in having the production of these articles go on in the most advantageous manner possible. The southern planter is not their competitor and rival. He is their partner. His work is to them and to their pursuits one of co-operation and aid. Consequently his prosperity is their prosperity, and his ruin would be an irretrievable disaster, not a benefit, to them. They are thus naturally his friends, and, consequently, when in desiring a change in the relation which sub- sists between him and his laborers, they declare that they are not actuated by any unfriendly feeling to- ward him, but honestly think that the change would be beneficial to all concerned, there is every reason A\'hy they should be beheved. There was a time when the laboring population of England occupied a position in respect to the pro- prietors of the soil there, very analogous to that now held by African slaves in our country. But the sys- tem has been changed. From being serfs, compelled to toil for masters, under the influence of compulsion or fear, they have become a free peasantry, working I 136 Friendship foe the Slave. in the employment of landlords, for wages. But this change has not depressed or degi-aded the landlords, or injured them in any way. On the contra£_j^, it has probably elevated and improved the condition of the master quite as much as it has that of the man. Imagine such a change as this on any southern plantation: the Christian master desiring conscien- tiously to obey the divine command, — given expressly for his guidance, in his responsible relation of em- ployer, — that he should "give unto his servants that which is just and equal, — forbearing threatening," — re- solves that he will henceforth induce industry on his estate by the payment of honest wages, instead of coercing his laborers by menaces and stripes j. and after carefully considering the whole grormd, he estimates, as fairly ^d faithfully as he can, what proportion of the whole avails of his culture properly belong to the labor performed by his men, and what to th^ capital, skill, and supervision, furnished and exercised by him- self, — and then fixes upon a rate of wages, graduating the scale fairly and honestly according to the strength, the dUigence, and the fidelity of the various laborers. Suppose, also, that some suitable arrangement is made on the plantation or in the vicinity, by which the ser- 1 Friendship for the Slave. 187 vants can expend wliat tlicy earn, in sucli comforts, ornaments, or luxuries as are adapted to tlieir con- dition and theii' ideas. Suppose ^at, in consequence of the operation of tliis system, tlielaborers, instead of desiring, as now, to make tlieir escape from the scene of labor, should eacli prize and value his place in it, and fear dismission from it as a punishment. Suppose that through the change which this new state of things should produce, it should become an agreeable and honorable duty to superintend and manage the system, as it is now agreeable and honorable to superintend the operations of a manufactory, or the construction or working of a railway, or the building of a fortress, or any other organized system of industry where the workmen are paid, and that consequently, instead of rude and degraded overseers, intemperate and pro- fane, extorting labor by threats and severity, there should be found a class of intelligent, humane, and honest men, to direct and superintend the industry of the cstatp, — men whom the proprietor would not be ashamed to associate with, or to admit to his parlor or table. In a word, suppose that the general content- ment and happiness which the new system would in- duce in all concerned in it, were such that peace of 188 Friendship for the Slave. mind shoTild return to tlie master's breast, now, — espe- cially in lionrs of sickness and suffering, and at the approach of death,^so often disturbed, and a sense of safety be restored to his family, so that it should no longer be necessary to keep the pistols or the rifle always at hand, and that the wife and children could lie down and sleep at night, without starting at un- usual or sudden sounds, or aj)prehending insurrection when they hear the cry of fire. Supj)ose that such a change as this were possible, is it the part of a friend ^: or an enemy to desire to have it effected ? But all such suppositions as these, the southern man ^, will perhaps say, are visionary and Utopian in the highest degree. No such state of things as is contem- plated by them, can by any possibility be realized with such a population as the southern slaves. Very well ; say tliis^ if you please, and prove it, if it can be proved. But do not charge those who desire that it might be realized, with being actuated, in advocating the change, by unfriendly feelings towards you, — for most assuredly they do not entertain any. ^ ,JUr^. Cljri^tiii^. " 0, thes>is\r, uikI thcii- captivating eloquonco, am astorHHliing IxiiJi tini old aiul tlio Now Woi'lil. Education in wlml tlic, wliih- iioodn for iJui dcv(;l<>|HiH'iil, oT lii;i inlcllci'licd i(5H. Ami it ia what tliu blar.k iii:i,ii ihm'iIh Inr thu duVolojiHKMlt of lii:f. 1'Miii'atn liiin, ami Mm miml provoa itfltiir at ojioo an proround and luiiHtcily in il-;i I' CoriO(iptionrt, and jih Iji'IhIc and in-iMi.itihlc. in il;i drc/i- |:. lioiiH, liH tlxi mind (if luiy utlu i- man. Ibit, ill addition to liin intolKiclnal, ilir. tiliiv(^ poM- < ; 1 a mora.) nature, f!upiil»l() oi' llio hiyjicst dr\c.l()|i- mont ami llio most rulimul cnllniv. A conHficncd tender and aeuto, tli(< voieciol' (lod in hin iionl luddin;.'; liim to cliooHo tim ri;-dd. iiml avoid llin w roiifj;, in Ium lawi'nl iniioritanoo hcHtowf-d ii|ioii Ium Ky liin Heavenly JVitlior. TliiM no on(! can deny wlm known uuf-dit of tlic. love, ol' moiid tinlli manircHteij by tli(< nlavcH <>(' thin coiniliy. (iod lias not left tlio rJavcM witliont moral houho. Nof Iuim ho (hmicd liim lli<» (i|iiiitiial fuoulty whicli, vvlicn cultivated, onabloH him to rccog- uizo (Jod in liin Hj>iritual nianifcHtationn, to cViHcoru and Co N I) rr I OK OK 'iiik Si. avk, 1-10 :i|.|.r(jcial.<) H.piiiln.il ItuIJim, uixl tu luol ttU'i i(;li«l» iJio gijiillo (liHl.ilI;ili"ii-, ol" l,liirll. of diviiio lovo iiH ih-y I', II upon li'iM li'':i.rt, liko (li;llovv<;r of l\\<; 'AUiU'., ruid IIk; inMiHtnco of l,li<; (Jliun-Ji, ui(; p;ivM Slabfljoliinj not a Ulirfoilmu but a Crime. London, September 2, 1853. " "|?0R your movement on behalf of the slave, I have profound respect. I assure you of my un- feigned sympathies and of my earnest prayers. In my view, you deserve the high esteem of all who love and serve God. Nothing would be deemed by me a greater honor than co-operation with you actively iu your work of faith and your labor of love. "With full consent of all that is within me, do I range myself among those who deem American slavery not a sad misfortune, but a heinous crime : a crime all the more heinous, because justified and even perpetrated by men whofeall themselves the servants of Christ. " I am, madam, yours respectfully. fj'cM.P^z^ Q^<^ C(jc rrnERE is nothing in tbe universe that can deserve the name or do the work of valid law but the commandment and the ordinance of the living God. All human enactments, adjudications and usages not founded on these, are of no legal force, and should be trampled under foot. The practice of slaveholding, for this reason, can never be legalized, and all legis- lative or judicial attempts to sustain it are rebellion against God, and treason against civil society. To teach otherwise, would be to set up other gods above Jehovah, to promulgate the fundamental principle of atheism, ' and proclaim war against the liberties of mankind. 't5fi-^^?^i^<^^ ''"^^^r^ In^nuiius/' T ASK no prou(Jer inscription for my humble tomb, than " Here lies the Friend of the Oppressed." ^ Ta^ ^/^"^-^^ * ssion 0f %meri.cH» o^ Beunswiok, Maine, September SO, 1853. Miss Julia Griffith, l/TY Dear Madam, your letter of September 23d I liave received. I regret exceedingly that it is not in my po'n'er to furnisli the article you have done me the honor to solicit, for the "Autographs for Freedom." Particularly do I regret this now, when the great conflict between aristocracy and de- mocracy is about being renewed all over the continent of Europe, and when despots are pointing with exult- ation to the unparalleled enormities of our "peculiar institutions," and the friends of republican equality, in all lands, are disheartened by our example. "Would the slaveholders of the south but consent to place those who tiU their lands, under the protection of wholesome and impartial law, and pay them honest 'OX or Amekica. '.\ Uj3-;, - 'V-u--. —c .ji.^ c..u.-_ kuman riglits to be re- spected in every corner of tl^e globe. It should be the mission of America, by tbe silent influence of a glorious example, to revolutioniafeill despotisms. "We have a vast continent to subdue^i&d to adorn, and we need tbe aid of millions more o g bands to ac- complisb tbe magnificent enterprise. ^Vitb mucli esteem 1 am truly yours, \ A '^^ uga.TOa'by J C Buttre # gis(ellol\)sl]i})|iu5 ^kiktjolto. npHE late Dr. Chalmers, not long before his death, spoke with disapprobation of Abolitionists in the United States, " for undertaking, " as he said, "to de- cide, without sufacient evidence, upon the irreligious character of ministers and church-members. They^ forsooth, undertake to exclude men from the Lord's table, who are in good and regular standing in the church of Christ, becatise they happen to hold slaves I They pretend to decide who, and who are not Chris- tians !" It is marvellous that so learned and so dis- tinguished a man should have fallen into such a mis- take ; and, on hearsay, ventured to utter a most calumnious accusation against the friends of the slave. The Abolitionists might, perhaps, make decisions in the case not wide of the mark, founded upon the rule given by Jesus Christ : " By their fruits ye shall kno^r lili DiSFELLOWSillPPING SLAVEHOLDERS. tlioa^" But, in declaring tliat slaveliolders ouglit not toiPe fellowsliipped as Christians, tliey do not say ^\^lletller a slaveliolder is or is not a Christian. On the contrary, they leave each one ShU)^^ Maker, the Iisr- FALLIBLE JuDGE. But this tj|ey do : — they hold that no slaveholder, professing to be a Christian, is entitled to Christian fellowship, hecause slaveholding is a sin, and should subject the offender to discipline. Neither Dr. Chalmers nor any other divine could deny tlie propriety of this, provided they believed that slave- holding is a sin, or an ecclesiastical offence. The apostle Paul directed that Christians should not eat with an extortioner. A slaveholder is an extortioner. If, then, a Christian may not eat a common meal with such an offender, may he sit at the Lord's table with him ? I trow not. • Lewis Tappan. p % £fd from inii ^rraj f. . SAMUEL R. WARD AND FREDERICK DO - PERHAPS a fitter occasion never presented itself, nor was more properly availed of, for the ex- hibition of talent, than when Frederick Douglass and Samuel R. Ward debated the " question" whether the Constitution was or not a pro-slavery document. With the " question" at issue we have, at present, nothing to do ; and with the arguments so far only as they exhibit the men. Both eminent for talent of an order (though differ- ing somewhat in cast) far above the common level of great men. If any inequalities existed, they served rather to heighten than diminish the interest of the occasion, giving rise to one of the severest contests of mind with mind that has yet come to my notice. A Leaf feom 'ouglass, sincere in the opinions lie lias espoused, defends them with a fervor and eloquence that finds scarcely a competitor. In his very look — ^his gesture — in his whole manner, there is so much of genuine, earnest eloquence, that they leave no time for reflection. Now you are reminded of one rushing down some fearful steep, bidding you followj now on some delightful stream, still beckoning you onward. In either case, no matter what your prepossessions or oppositions, you for the moment, at least, forget the justness or unjustness of his cause and obey the summons, and loath, if at all, you return to your former post. Not always, however, is he successful in retaining you. Giddy as you may be with the descent you have made, delighted as 3^ou are with the pleasure afforded, with the elysium to which he has wafted you, you return too often dissatisfied with his and your own impetuosity and want of firmness. You feel that Tou had had only a dream, a pastime, not a reality. This great power of momentary captivation consists in his eloquence of manner— his just appreciation of words. MY Scrap Book. 167 In listening to him, your -wliole soul is fired — every nerve strung — uvery passion inflated — every faculty you possess ready to perform at a moment's bidding. You stop not to ask wliy or wherefore. 'Tis a unison of mighty yet harmonious sounds that play upon 3'our imagination ; and you give yourself up, for a time, to their u-resisl ^ le charm. At last, the cataract which ibared around you is hushed, the tornado is passed, and you find yourself sitting upon a bank (at whose base roll but tranquil waters), quietly meditating that why, amid such a display of pow6r, no greater effect had really been produced. After all, it must be admitted, there is a power in Mr. Douglass rarely to be found in any other man. With copiousness of language, and finish of diction, when even ideas fail, words come to his aid — arranof- ing themselves, as it were, so completely, that they not only captivate, but often deceive us for ideas; and hence the vacuum that would necessarily occur i^ the address of an ordinary spealcer is filled up, present- ing the same beautiful harmony as do the lights and shades of a picture. f 168 A Leaf from From Mr. Douglass, in this, perhaps, as mucli as in any other ^pect, does Mr. Ward differ. Ideas form the basis of all Mr. Ward utters. "Words are only used to express those ideas. If words and ideas are not inseparable, then, as mortar is to the stones that compose the building, so are his words to his ideas. In this, I judge, lifs Mr. Ward's greatest strength. Concise without abruptness — without extraordinary stress, always clear and forcible ; if sparing of orna- ment, never inelegant. In all, there appears a con- sciousness of strength, developed by close study and deep reflection, and only put forth because the oc- casion demanded, — a power not only to examine bul to enable you to see the fairness of that examination and the justness of its conclusions. You feel Douglass to be right, without always see ing it ; perhaps it is not too much to say, when Ward is right you see it. His appeals are directed rather to the understand- ing than the imagination; but so forcibly do they take possession of it, that the heart unhesitatingly yields. K, as we have said, Mr. Douglass seems as one MY Scrap Book. 169 •wliirling down some steep descent wliose very im- petuosity imj)els ; — ere you are aware of it, it is the quiet serenity of Mr. Ward, as lie points up the rugged ascent, and invites you to follow, that inspires 3^our confidence and ensures your safety. Step by step do you with him climb the rugged steep ; and, as you gain each succeeding erndnence, he points you to new scenes and new delights jf-^iiow grand — sublime ; now picturesque and beautiful; — always real. Most sjDeakers fail to draw a j)erfect figure. This point I think Mr. "Ward has gained. His figures, when done, stand out with prominence, possessing both, strength and elegance. Douglass' imagery is fine — vivid — often gaudily painted. "Ward's pictures — bold, strong, glowing. Douglass speaks right on ; you acknowledge him to have been on the ground — nay, to have gone over the field ; Ward seeks for and finds the corners ; sticks the stakes, and leaves them standing ; we know where * to find them. Mr. Douglass deals in generals ; Mr. "Ward reduces everything to a point. Douglass is the lecturer ; Ward the debater. Doug- lass powerful in invective ; Ward in argument. What ♦ 170 A Leaf from advantage Douglass gains in mimicry Ward recovers in wit. Douglass M||,sarcasm, Ward point. Here, again, an essential difference may be pointed out : — . Douglass says mucb, at times, you regret he "uttered. This, however, is the re|l man, and on reflection you like him the better folf it. What Ward says you fee] to be but a necessity, growing out of the case, — that it ought to have been said — that you would have said precisely the same yourself, without adding or diminishing a single sentence. Douglass, in manner, is at all times pleasing ; Ward seldom less so ; often raises to the truly majestic, and never descends below propriety. If you regret when Douglass ceases to speak, you are anxious Ward should continue. Dignity is an essential quality in an orator — I mean true dignity. Douglass has this in an eminent degree ; Ward no less so, coupled with it great self-possession. He is never disconcerted — all he desires he says. In one of his replies to Mr. Douglass I was struck with admiration, and even delight, at the calm, digni- MY Scrap Book. 171 fied manner in Avliicli he expressed liimself, and liis ultimate triumpli under wliat seemed to me very peculiar circumstances. Douglass' was a splendid effort — a beautiful effusion. One of those outpourings from the deeps of his heart of which he can so admirably give existence to. He had brought down thunders of well-merited ap- plause ; and sure I am, that a whisper, a breath from almost any other opponent than Mr. Ward, would have produced a tumult of. hisses. Not so, however, now. The quiet, majestic air, the suppressed richness of a deep-toned, but well- cultivated voice, as the speaker jDaid a few well-timed compliments to his opponents, disturbed not, as it had produced, the dead stillness around. Next followed some fine sallies of wit, which broke m on the calm. He then proceeded to make and accomplished one of the most finished speeches to which I have ever listened, and sat down amidst a perfect storm of cheers. It was a noble burst of eloquence, — the gatherings up of the choicest possible culled thoughts, and poured forth, mingling with a unison of brilliant flashes and 172 A Leaf feom masterly strokes, following each other in quick suc- cession ; and though felt — deeply felt, no more to be described than^jSj^yivid lightning's zig-zag, as pro- duced from the (^^charged thunder-cloud. If Douglass is not always successful in his attempts to heave up his ponderous missiles at his opponents, from the point of his ^^cent, he always shows deter- mination and spirit. He is often too far down the pass, however, (her- culean though he be,) for his intent. "Ward, from the eminence he has gained, giant-hke, hurls them back with the force and skill of a prac- tised marksman, almost invariably to the detriment of his ah'eady fallen victim. In Douglass you have a man, in whose soul the iron of oppression has far entered, dnd you feel it. He tells the story of his wrongs, so that they stand out in all their naked ughness. In "Ward, you have one with strong native powers, — I know of none stronger ; superadded a careful and extensive cultivation ; an understanding so matured, that fully enables him to successfully grapple with men or errors, and portray truth in a manner equalled by few. MY ScKAP Book. 173 After all, it must be admitted, both, are men of ex- traordinary powers of liiind. Both well qualified for tlie task^ey have under- I have, rather than anything ei^drawn, these out- hne portraits for our young men, who can fill them up at leisure. The subjects are both fine 'models, and may bo studied with profit by all, — especially those who are destined to stand in the front rank. Note. — It has been some years since the above sketch was drawn ; and though my impressions, especially of Mr. Douglass, has undergone some slight change since, — seeing in him enlarged, strength- ened, and more matured thought, still I think, on the whole, the care- ful observer will attest substantially to its correctness. ''eStlja h mi ^ajljtorr TT gives me great pleasure to express my interest in your objects, by the following sentiment: Sym- pathy for the slave, — ^the clearest exhibition in modern times of the spirit which, in the parable of the Samari- tan, first illumined the wrong of oppression, and the divineness of brotherly love. C/ri^ o/^^^^rr^yC^ Consolation for Slave tliougli thou art to unfeeling power, Till wrong shall reach her final hour, Mourn not as one on whom the day Will never shed a healing ray. The star of hope, that leads the dawn, Appears, and night will soon be gone. Long has thy night of sorrow been, "Without a star to cheer the scene. Nay ; there was One that watched and wept, When thou didst think all mercy slept ; That eye, which beams with love divine, Where all celestial glories shine. Justice will soon the sceptre take ; The scourge shall fall, the tyrant quake. 176 OoiSrSOLATION FOR THE SlAVE. Hark ! 'tis tlie voice of One from heaven ; Tlie word, the liigli command is given, " Break ever}' yoke, loose every chain, To usher in the Saviour's reign." C|e fi fTHE Key to Uncle Tom's OSbin : a key to unlock any mind tliat is not rendered inaccessible by the rust of conservatism or party-spirit, and to open tlie fountain of every generous affection, which is not closed with impenetrable ice. "With this key may every one become famihar, who ^^'ould know, and both in word and deed " bear witness to the truth I" .•'«>-l,-«^,,<„C..i,.-^ /^C^^l^"^ I'lzm of l^ibfrtn. JJF Liberty were to go on a pilgrimage all over the i earth, she would find a home in every house, and a welcome in every heart. None would reject the fiivors she offers if, brought to their own doors. Sure and prompt as the impulses of instinct, every bosom would open tu ilmit her and her blessings, but — when her^ospel is proclaimed as a common bounty to all the world, — when she is seen visiting and feast- ing with publicans and sinners, and sitting with her unwashed disciples in familiar and loving companion- ship, Caesar and the S3'nagogue are alike alarmed and enraged. When she is found daily in the market- place and on the mountain-top, in the hamlet and on the highway, ministering to the multitude, healing and feeding them, — showing the same love and rever- ence for humanity in every variety of conditions, and True Mission of Liberty. 179 liowever disguised or degraded, — tlie cn^dtof caste and tlie bitterness of "bigotry strai^titway take conn- scl among tliemselvcs liow tlie;5^ay destroy her. Heaven help ns ! Divided as we are, into the hating and the hated, the oppressors and the op- pressed, we have settle ^1 itj somehow, that we are of necessity at v.^ar with caqjJHBjc— that the welfare of one in some way depends HT|on the wretchedness of another. How much nuidness and misery would be spared if we could in ny way learn that we are brethren. i -^J,^ ^^^^^tyt^ c-€::'<^^^=^-^-^ true %h1t of "gcfonn. npHE religion of Jesus, acting as a vital principle in the individual heart, and thus leaving the entire mass of humanity, to this alone are we to look as of sufl&cient power to do a^vny the evils that are now rife in the world. Just so far as the true spirit of Jesus is infused into the soul, and acts in the life of man, we know that sin, in its various forms of sensuality, oppression, and bloodshed, must disappear. All reforms, which are not based on this corner-stone, are superficial; and, however goodly their proportions may appear to the eye of man, they want that firm foundation which will secure them against being undermined or overthrown by the force of adverse circumstances. " Other foundation can no man lay, than that is laid," for the building up of all that is really excellent and heavenly. True Spirit of Eeform. 181 But, Avliile Ave acknowledge tlie omnipotence of true religion for tlie ratification of all social wrongs, we are not to rest in tlie inculcation of its abstract princi- ples and outward forms alone/ 'it is not enough that we ourselves become, or persuade our fellow-men to become professed disciples of Jesus ; not enough that, in a general way, we urge the precepts of the gospel. The obtuseness of the human heart, when hardened by habit and early education, requires that we make particular application of the precepts of Christ, and address our efforts to the removal of specific sins : the sins of our own age and country. It may be that our brother, sincerely intending to act in the spirit of Jesus, is yet blinded by the force of habit, and fails to see the sin in which he is living. If our position make us to see more clearly than he the course he should pursue, let us endeavor gently to remove the veil from his eyes, remembering how often our own vision is dimmed by prejudice and outward circum- stances. In the moral, as well as in the natural world, v/e believe that God demands our active cooperation ; and, as the farmer not only sows the seed, but roots out the weeds from among the grain, so are we to endeavor to eradicate from the broad field of the moral 182 Teue Spirit of Eeform. world those evil practices wliicli obstruct the growth 01 vimL purc and uudefiled relioiou. " The hiisb^^Bjj^waiteth for the precious fruit of Cue cartlj, ' ^^^Bjj^^g' patience for it, until he dFl^er rain." So are we oblio:ed often to have "long patience," until we see the mani- fest blessing of God on our labors. But patient waiting become" ~ -•■'^-- ^Ij -when combined with the exercise oi' v-'lh u<-.^b powers in promoting the object of our desire. We must adapt our efforts to the express object which we seek to attain. Taking those spiritual weapons a. hich are "mighty for the pulling down of the sirongholds" of sin, let us assault ihc groat evil orj and oppression of ever}- name and kind, • , ■ . :ays marching under the banners of the Prince of Peace, whose conquests are achieved not by violence, but by the subduing power of God- like love. Let us go forth, brethren, sisters, a feeble band though we may seem to the eye of man, yet strong in the assurance that the hosts of heaven are encamped round about us, and that " more are they that are with us, than they that are" on the side of the oppressor; and lotus not falter until in God's own good time the word shall oe spoken, not as, we True Spirit of Reform. 183 would liope, in the whirlwind or the earthquake, but in the " still small voice" of the oppress^ n't viction, sajing to the slaves, " Go froc !" *^ 3^ 011 |er lleturit from €xiXO$L She comes, she comes, o'er the bounding wave, Borne swift as an eagle's flight ; She comes, the tried friend of the slave, — Truth's champion for the right. , Not as the blood-stained warrior comes, With shrill-sounding fife and drums ; But peaceful by our quiet homes, The conquering heroine comes. Then welcome to our Pilgrim shore, Tho' sad affliction* meet thee ; Three million welcomes from God's poor, The south winds bear, to greet thee. * lbs sickness of her daughter. A Welcome to Mrs. H. B. Stowe. 185 To tliee, witTi cTiain-linked hearts we comj Whicli nauglit but death can sever,^ To thank thee for thy " Uncle Thy gentle-hearted " Eva." "When the crushed slave himself shall own, Three million fetters broken, Shall mount before thee, to the Throne ; Of thy true life, the token. Then welcome to our northern hills ; Thy own New England dwelling ; The birds, the trees, the sparkling rills, All, are thy welcome swelling. RocHESTEE, N. y., October 19th, 1853. II r lir ci r & . F H0FFMA>7, IN FOLLERSLEBEN. 1 and flood, ger on tlie strand, nd all tliat mi-lit to us bring good Lies in tlic '1 -lant land. (J .-.. „ cid ! forward ! why stand still ? Tke Hood will ne'er run dry ; Who through the wave not venture will, 'l hat land shall never spy. cX ^ ^'^!^A-<^^ 5^l|at pB Ceah ta h 'i d| Slaben ? rrHE question is often asked, both in Canada and in the United States: What h:'VG tvc in Canada to - with the Institution of Slavery, as it exists in the ! j;hboringRepubhc? I do not think that a better wer is necessary, than that which is contained in ■ following extracts — the former of which is taken :ii a speech delivered by George Thompson, Esq., the formation of the Anti-Slaverj'- Society of lada — th® latter from the valuable work of the '.'. Albert Barnes on Slavery : '' Are we separated geographically and politically from the country where slavery reigns ? We are, for i; very reason, the persons best able to form an nn- ijiassod and sound judgment on the question at isstie. We have as much to do with this question as with any question that concerns the happiness of man, the 188 "What has Canada .gtifM of G-ocl, or the hopes and destinies of the human ^^^^^ "We have to do with this question, for it lies at ndatioii of our own rights as a portion of the human family. The cause of liberty is one all over What have you to do with this question ? The slave is your brother, and you cannot dissolve that Union. While he remains God's child he will remain your brother. He is helpless, and you are free and powerful ; and if you neglect him, you are not doing as you would have others do to you, were you in bonds. Know you not that it is God's method to save man by man, and that man is only great, and honorable, and blest himself, as he is the friend and defender of those who need his aid. You are dwellers on the same continent with three millions of slaves. Their sighs come to you with every breeze from the South. Oh, haste to help them, that this glorious continent may be freed from its pollution and its curse." Extract from Barnes on slavery : " Slavery pertains to a great wrong done to our C(5mmon nature, and affects great questions, relating to the final triumph of the principles of justice and • humanity. The race is one great brotherhood, and TO DO WITH Slavery? 189 every man is under obligation, as far as lie has tlie ability, to defend tliose principles wbicKmU. perma- "M nently promote tbe welfare of tbe fpman family. * * * n: The questions of rigbt and ^v^ong knoAv no geographical limits ; are bounded by no conventional lines ; are circum:;cribed by the wind- ings of no river or stream, and arc not designated by chmate or by the course of the sun. There are no enclosures within which the question of right and wrong may not be carried with the utmost freedom." Other answers might be given, but these are quite sufficient. C^^^^^7^/Z€/yy^kc.^^^>^c^^y ^t fuqitilTe.Slabc |lill: ii Injineiit. "DUT our. lest part of tliis sad business. It would be hard enougli to live surrounded hy I'oiiilincn, ;-vc- aigli we bad never known anj of life. Still, for one wlio bad grou-n up witu young slaves for playmates and for nurses, there miglit be much in the relation to quiet the con- science and soothe the sensibilities. Stronsr attach- rnento, we all knoAV, are often realized, even in a condition of things so anomalous. Perhaps, too, a large number of those about us would be as feeble in capacity as humble in their circumstances. One so born might tolerate such a position. But how differ- ent, — how, in comparison, and in every way intolera- ble, to be set as watchmen and interceptors of these, the brighter and the better, who, beyond all controversy, bave outgrown the estate of bondage, and who are so The Fugitive Slave Bi loudly called of God to be freemen brave any peril in obedience to i^^ttAl ! How we do this and still be men ani Christians? Would our brethren at the south do it in our haste, so covenanted, mu?t a the penalty than fulfil the bo]^? I recognize obedi- ence to civil government as J|e solemn duty of all save those luho luiihout can^^M.'ondde outlaios hy the State. Government protect.^||ir' hearths and shelters those who are dearest to u^. ^^But we can honor the law by submitting to its pena^j ic? as well as by com- plying -with its demands, an|p;he pcnaltv would be my election when a man who had S' ■ manhood at the peril of his life should claim oi rue shelter and the means of escape. Before I refuse that, " may my right hand forget its cunning and my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth." IV fffje Ciicnurljiimil d tfje §Iabc-|tolMr. OUCH is tlie imlioly and gigantic power that, leav- ing its territorial domain, lias usurped the seat of freedom — ^that has established at our capitol a central despotism, and bends to its will with iron hand the Legislative, Executive, and Judicial branches of our Federal Government. I have marvelled, sir, as you have, that the Spirit of Freedom in our .fair land has so long slumbered beneath such an outrage, But I imagine her awaken- ing. As she is about to awaken in her strength, and with the voice of the people, like the sound of many waters, rebuking this insolent slave-power, as Milton tells us its father and inventor was of old rebuked, as he sought to pass the bounds of his prison-house, and to darken with his presence the realms of light — Ekcroachjient of Slave-Power. 193 "And reckon'st tliou thyself with spirits of ITcaven, Hell-doom'd ! and breatli'st defiance Lore and scorn, Where I reign King, and to enrage t^^nore Thy King and Lord ? Back to thy ||^^fcncut False fugitive, and to thy speed ndi^JH^ Lest with a whip of scorpions I pursue Thy lingering, or with one stroke oj^this dart, Strange horrors seize thee and pangs xinfclt before." Faitlifully. jours, ffljc Si-^!)^!^^^" ^^ #'^1 rriHE fundament o' ial cause of slavery and its concomitants, ignorance, degradation and suffering on the one side, as of idleness, prodigality and luxury- born disease on the o#er, is a false idea of tlie nature and ofi&ces of Labor. Labor is not truly a curse, as has too long been as- serted. It only becomes such through human per- verseness, misconception and sin. It was no curse to the first pair in Eden, and will not be to their descend- ants, whenever and wherever the spirit of Eden shall pervade them. It is only a curse because too many seek to engross the product of others' work, yet do Httle or none themselves. If the secret were but out, that no man can really enjoy more than his own moderate daily labor would produce^ and none can truly enjoy this without doing the work, the death-knell of Slavery in JEngtareltryJ.CBiiOl^ UjZ^ The Dishonor of Labor. 105 general — in its subtler as well 4s j^s, y,iosscr forms- would be rung. Until tbat trutk slaall be thorougbly diffused, tlie cunning and st nig will be able to prey upon the simple and feeble, wbetber- tlie latter be called slaves or sometbing else. jW: The gTcat reform reqii^d 'is noc a work of hours nor of days, but of many years. It must first per- vade our literature, and thenc^ our current ideas and conversation, before it can be infused into the common life. Meanwhile, it would be well t*^ remember that— Every man who exchanges business for idleness, not because he has become too old or infirm to work, but because he has become rich enough to live without work ; Every man who educates his .-on for a profession, rather than a mechanical or agric-dltural calling, not because of that son's supposed fitnc 3 for the former rather than the latter, but because Lo imagines Law, Physic or Preaching, a more respectable, genteel voca- tion, than building houses or growing grain ; Every maiden who prefers in marriage a rich suitor of doubtful morals or scanty brains to a poor one, of sound principles, blameless hfe, good information and sound sense ; 196 The Dishonoe of Labor. cliaiii, ._ or artif-'n- ' 'eased wlicn her daughter re- xou from a ricli lawyer or mer- ^e addresses of a young farme?' but of well-stored mind, ,s, provident habits ; choosing the sharer of .other of his children, is good- for, than as to Every ;, his fireside and 1 less solicitous as how much she is worth ; 2 Every youth who is ti"fiined to regard little work and much recompense — short business-hours and long dinners — as the chief en^ of exertion and as assu- rances of a happy life ; Every teacher who thinks more of the wages than of the opportunities for usefulness afforded by his or her vocation ; Every rich AL'-i: Zionist, who is ashamed of being caught by distinguished visiters while digging in his garden or plowing in the field, and wishes them to Linderstand that he so works, not for occupation, but for pastime ; and Every Abohtion lecturer who would send a hireling two miles after a horse, whereon to ride three miles to fulfil his next appointment respectably ; The Dishonor of Labo Thouali meanincf no sucli sliocked wlieu it is suo-o-estod, is^H|x.'iicar'iia(l power- ful upholder of the contipS^^^rtaTemeut of our fellow-men. In the faith of the '' I remain y*- ..i.-j STewYokk, Nov. 1, 1853. lie conimo-, Horace Greeley. Co[oiii]iitioii T SPEAK tlie words of noberness and truth, when I -*- say, tliat the most inveterate, the most formidable, the deadliest enemy of the peace, prosperity, and lia.ppines3 of the colored population of the United States, is thai system of African colonization which. originated in and is perpetuated by a worldly, Pharoah-like policy beneath the dignity of a magnan- imous and Christian people ; — a system which receives much of its vitality from ad captandum appeals to popular prejudices, and to the unholy, grovelling passions of the canaille; — a system that interposes every possible obstacle in the way of the improvement andli elevation of the colored man in the land of his birth ; — ^that instigates the enactment of laws whose design and tendency are obviously to annoy him, to make him feel, while at home, that he is a stranger The Evils of Colonizatio' and a pilgrim — nay more, — to make liim ".■wro^'"'"^''' and miserable, and poor, and hl'ii^, and naked , make liini " a hissing and a by-wBr," " a, fugitive and a vagabond" tlirougliout the jlpi* i Jnioii ;■ — ^a system that is so irreconcilably opposed to the pur- pose of God in making " ol one blood all nations for to dwell on all the face oi th," that when the dying slaveholder, under the lashes of a guilty con- science, would give to his slaves unqualified freedom, it wickedly interposes, an;l persuades him that '' to do justly and love liicrcy" wd; Id be to inflict an irrepar- able injury upon the community, and that to do his duty to God and his fellow-creatures, under the cir- cumstances, he should bequeath to his surviving slaves the cruel alternative of eithe)- expatriation to a far-off, pestilential clime, with the prospect of a premature death, or perpetual slavery, with its untold Jiorrors, in his native land. Against this most iniquitous system of persecution and proscription of an inoffensive })cople, f(jr no other reason than that we wear the physical exterior given us in infinite wisdom and benevolence, I would record, nay engrave with the pen of a diamond, my most emphatic and solemn protest; more especially would I do so, as the system, under HE Evils of Colonization. ;rSk)n, is most inconsistently fostered, and shamclc^- "' " ^^idad. by ministers of the gospel in the ninetee. i-«li»"« a scheme of Christian philan- thropy! ', -- _j i, come not thon into their secret ; unto their as.;! ■ ubly, mine honor, be not thou united." Toronto, C. W., Oct. SI si. 2ii^aved"bTJ'. ^^iiM^ £(]e |la.sis of Kje ^meipicaii " TT-^PPY," (said Wasliic^>n/" wlien announcing the treaty of peace to tlie army,) " thrice liappy shall they be pronounced hereafter, who shall have contributed anything, who shall have performed the meanest office in erecting this stupendous fabric of freedom and empire on the broad basis of indepen- dency, "s^■ho shall have assisted in protecting the Rights of Human Nature, and establishing an asylum for the poor and oppressed of all nations and religions." You remember well that the Revolutif!liaiy Con- gTcss in the declaration of independencr- ]^lac6d the momentous controversy between the Colonics and Great Britain on the absolute and inherent equalit}' of all men. It is not, however, so well understood that that body closed its existence on the adoption of the Federal Constitution with this solemn injunction, 9* ^02 The Basis of the ^: iddressecl to the peo|)le of tlie United States : " Let it 5e rememLered that it has ever been the pride and )oast of America, that the Rights for whicli she con- tended were the Eights of Human Nature." No one will contend that our Fathers, after effect- ing the Revolution and the independence of their country, by proclaiming this sj^stem of beneficent political philosophy, established an entirely different one in the constitution assigned to its government. This philosophy, then, is the basis of the American Constitution. It is, moreover, a true philosophy, deduced from the nature of man and the character of the Creator. If there were no supreme law, then the world would be a scene of universal anarchy, resulting from the eter- nal conflict of peculiar institutions and antagonistic laws. There being such a universal law, if any human constitution and laws differing from it could have any authority, then that universal law could not be supreme. That supreme law is necessarily based on the equality of nations, of races, and of men. It is a sim23le, self-evident basis. One nation, race, or indi- vidual, may not oppress or injure another, because the safety and welfare of each is essential to the common American Constitution. 203 safety and welfare of all. If all are not equal and free, then wlio is entitled to be free, and what evidence of Ms superiority can he bring from nature or revelation ? All men necessarily have a common interest in the promulgation and maintenance of these principles, be- cause it is equally in the nature of men to be content with the enjoyment of their just rights, and to be dis- contented under the privation of them. Just so far as these principles practically prevail, the stringency of government is safely relaxed, and peace and harmony obtain. But men cannot maintain these principles, or even comprehend them, without a very considerable advance in knowledge and virtue. The law of nations, designed to preserve peace among mankind, was im- known to the ancients. It has been perfected in our own times, by means of the more general dissemina- tion of knowledge and practice of the virtues incul- cated by Christianity. To disseminate knowledge, and to increase virtue therefore among men, is to establish and maintain the principles on which the recovery and preservation of their inherent natural rights depend; and the State that does this most faithfully, advances most effectually the common cause of Human Nature. For myself, I am sure that this cause is not a 204 The Basis of the dream, but a reality. Have not all men consciousness of a property in tlie memory of liuman transactions available for tlie same great purposes, the security of their individual rights, and the perfection of their in- dividual happiness ? Have not all men a conscious- ] lCss of the same equal interest in the achievements of invention, in the instructions of philosophy, and in the solaces of music and the arts ? And do not these achievements, instructions, and solaces, exert cvery- ^vhere the same influences, and produce the same emotions in the bosoms of all men ? Since all Ian- gun gos are convertible into each other, by corresj^ond- ence with the same agents, objects, actions, and emo- tions, have not all men practically one common lan- guage ? Since the constitutions and laws of all societies are only m many various definitions of the rights and duties of men as those rights and duties are learned fi*om Nature and Eevelation, have not all men practi- cally one code of moral duty? Since the religions of men, in their various climes, are onlj- so many differ- ent forms of their devotion toAvards a Suj)rcme and Almighty Power entitled to their reverence and re- ceiving it under the various names of Jehovah, Jove, and Lord, have not all men practically one religion ? American Constitution. 205 Since all men are seeking liberty and liajDpiness for a season lierc, aucl to deserve and so to secure more per- fect liberty and happiness somewbere in a future "i.vorld, and, since tbcy all substantially agree tliat these temporal and spiritual objects are to be attained only through the knowledge of truth and the prac- tice of virtue, have not mankind practically one com- mon pursuit through one common way of one com- mon and equal hope and destiny ? If there had been no such common Humanity as I have insisted upon, then the American people would not have enjoyed the sympathies of mankind when establishing institutions of civil and religious liberty here, nor would their estabhshment here have awakened in the nations of Europe and of South America desires and hopes of simdar institutions there. If there had been no such common Humanity, then we should not ever, since the American Eevo- lution, have seen human society throughout the world f iivided into two parties, the high and the low — the one perpetually foreboding and earnestly hoping the downfall, and the other as confidently predicting and as sincerely desiring, the durability of Eepublican Institutions. If there had been no such common 206 The Basis of the Humanitj, then we should not have seen this tide of emigration from insular and continental Europe flow- ing into our country through the channels of the St. La^vrence, the Hudson, and the Mississippi, — ebbing, ho^Yeve^, always with the occasional rise of the hopes of freedom abroad, and always swelling again into greater volume when those premature hopes subside. If there were no such common Humanity, then the poor of Great Britain would not be perpetually ap- pealing to us against the oppression of landlords on their farms and work-masters in their manufactories and mines ; and so, on the other hand, we should not be, as we are now, perpetually framing apologies to mankind for the continuance of African slavery among ourselves. If there vrere no such common Humanity, then the fame of Wallace would have long- ago died away in his native mountains, and the name even of Washington woidd at most have been -only a household word in Yirginia, and not as it is now, a watchword of Hope and Progress throughout the world. K there had been no such common Humanity, then when the civilization of Greece and Eome had been consumed by the fires of human passion, the American Constitution. 207 nations of modern Europe could never liave gathered from among its aslies the pliilosophy, tlie arts, and tlie religion, wliicli were imperishable, and have recon- structed with those materials that better civilization, which, amid the conflicts and fall of political and ecclesiastical systems, has been constantly advancing towards perfection in every succeeding age. If there had been no such common Humanity, then the dark and massive Egyptian obelisk" would not have every- where reappeared in the sepulchral architecture of our own times, and the light and graceful orders of Greece and Italy would not as now have been the models of our villas and our dwellings, nor would the simple and lofty arch and the dehcate tracery of Gothic de- sign have been as it now is, everywhere consecrated to the service of rehgion, K there had been no such common humanity, then would the sense of the obhgation of the Deca- logue have been confined to the despised nation who received it from Mount Sinai, and the prophecies of JeA\ash seers and the songs of Jemsh bards would have perished forever with their temple, and never afterwards could they have become as they now are, the universal utterance of the spiritual emotions and 208 The Ameeican Constitution. liopes of mankind. K there liad been no sucli com- mon liumanity, then certainly Europe and Africa, and even ncAV America, -wonld not, after the lapse of cen- turies, have recognized a common Redeemer, from all the sufferings and perils of human life, in a culprit who had been ignominiously executed in the obscure Ilomau province of Judea ; nor would Europe have cxcv gone up in arms to Palestine, to wrest jfrom the unbelieving Turk the tomb where that culjirit had slept for only three days and nights after his descent from the cross, — much less Avould his traditionary instructions, preserved by fishermen and publicans, have become the chief agency in the renovation of human society, through after-coming ages. Wm. n. Seward. % UXin\. " Could I embody and unbosom now, That wliicli is most witliin me ; — could I wreak Mj tbouglits upon expression, and tbus tlirow Soul, heart, mind, passions, feelings strong or weak. All that I would have sought, and all I seek. Bear, know, and feel, and breathe, — into 07ie word, And that one word were lightning " — I would speak it, not to crush the oppressor, but to melt the chains of slave and master, so that both should go free. ^^t-i^ IECj-vA- G^ and natural action of an unfranchised spirit. y^,^-m Clover street Sem., Novt'^-'ter 10th, 1853. w ""^ EagamiV J C Buttre k % Cime of lustia \mli Come ITjTE are conscious of tLe odium that rests upon us. We feel that wc are wronged ; but we are not impatient for the righting of our wrongs. "We bide our time. The men that shall come after us, will do us justice. The present generation of America cannot "judge righteous judgment," in the case of the uncom- promising friends of freedom, religion, and law. They are so debauched and blinded by slavery, and by the perverse and low ideas of freedom, religion, and law, which it engenders, that they "call evil good, and good evil ; put darkness for light, and light for dark- ness ; put bitter for sweet, and sweet for bitter." They have been living out the lie of slavery so long, and have been, thereby, deadening their consciences so long, as to be now well nigh incapable of perceiving the wide and everlasting distinctions between truth and falsehood. Geerit Smith. 10* ^o|e IUI& Confii)ence. u i WHAT a strange thing is tlie luiman lieart I "With its youth, and its joy and fear ! It doats upon creatures that day-dreams impart, — Full sorely it grieves when their beauties depart, And weeps bitter tears over their bier. The veriest gleamings that dart into birth, Eeveal to its being of light : The dimliest shadows that flit upon earth. Allure it, with promise of pleasure and mirth In a country, where never is night. It leaves the sure things of its own real home. To pursue the mere phantoms of thought I Well knowing, that certain, there soon must come. An end to the visions, that so gladsome, It bewilder'd, has eagerly sought. n 'lay^' J ^ . J^^^^^^ W] k Hope and CoNFiDEisrcE. 227 It fleetli the ■wlaolesome prose of life, With its riches all sure and told : And scorning the beauties, that calmly in strife Truth fashions, it longs for the things all rife With glitter, and color, and gold. It buildeth its home 'neath an ever calm sky, Near streams wherein crown-jewels sleep, — And there it reposeth : while soothingly nigh, Some loved one, perchance, doth most wooingly sigh, As the zej^hyrs all fall-laden creep. Thus it musingly wasteth its strength, in dreams Of bliss, that can never prove true : And ever it revels amid what seems, A paradise smiling with Hope's warm beams, And flowers all spangled with dew. But, even as flowers are broken and fade, And yield up their perfumes — their souls, — So vanish the colors of which dreams are made, — So perish the structures on which Hope is staid, And the treasures to which the heart holds. 228 Hope and Confidence. la vain docs it follow tlie wandering- forms That promise, yet always recede : — ■ Too briefly the sunshine is darken'd by storms : Hope minstrels it onward, jet never informs Of the dangers unseen, that impede. The Heart trusts the outward : " Of man 'tis the whole." Thus Confidence clings to deca}^ ! It feels the sweet homage that riches control, — And laughs in contempt at the wealth of the soul : And behold ! now, friends wait for their prey. It trusteth in glory, and beauty, and youth, — In love- vows that ne'er are to die : But soon the Death-king, in whose heart is no ruth, Enfolds it, — and mounting aloft, of Truth Thus sings, as turns glassy the eye. " There's nothing so lovely and bright below, As the shapes of the purified mind ! Nought surer to which the weak heart can grow, On which it can rest, as it onward doth go, Than that Truth which its own tendrils bind. Hope and Coxfidexce. 229 " Yes . Trutli opes -within a pure sun-liJe of bliss, And shows in its ever calm flood, A transcript of regions, -where no darkness is, "Where Hope its conceptions may realize, And Confidence sleep in ' The Good.' " <^^^..t^^^^^>2«P. % fetter tljut $$ti\h for Itself. To T M . TjISINTERESTED benevolence, my dear sir, has nothing at all to do with abolitionism. Nay, I doubt very much if there is such a thing as disinter- ested benevolence ; but be this as it may, there is no occasion for it in the anti-slavery ranks. It is selfishness, — sheer selfishness, that has thus far carried on the war with slavery and wrong in all times ; and selfishness must break the chains of the American slave. Self-love has fixed the chain around the arm of every leader and every soldier in the American anti-slavery army. "Where would "William Lloyd Garrison have been to-day, if any combination of circumstances could have shut in his soul's deep hatred of oppression, and prevented its finding utterance in burning words? i i A Letter. 231 He would have been dead and rotten. It is necessary to liis own existence that he should work, — work for the slave ; and in his work he gratifies all the strong- est instincts of his nature, more completely than even the grossest sensualist can gratify his^ by unlimited in- dulsrence. O Gerritt Smith, too. Suppose he was compelled to hoard his princely fortune, or spend it as most others do ! dear ! what a dyspeptic we should have in six months ; and all the hj-dropathic institutes in the country could never keep him alive five years. John P. Hale would soon be done with his rotund person and jovial face, if he could no longer send the sharp arrows of his wit and sarcasm into the con- sciences of his human-whipping neighbors. It is a necessity of all great nations to hate mean- ness, and nothing under God's heaven ever was so mean as American slavery. Think of it. Men who swagger around with pistols and bowie-knifes to avenge their insulted honor, if any one should ques- tion it, — imagine one turning up his sleeves to horse- whip an old woman for burning his steak, or pocket- ing her wages, earned at the wash-tub ! No one with a soul above that of a pig-louse, could 232 A Letter THAT 1 help loathing the system, the instant he saw it in its native meanness. Then, in order to keep his own • sehf-respect, — ^to gratify the love of the good and true in his own soul, he must express that loathing. No disinterestedness about doing right, for nobodjr can be so much interested in the act as the doer of it. Wrong-doing is the only possible self-abnegation, of which the whole range of thought admits. All the humiliation and agony of the Saviour him- self, were necessary to himself. Nothing less could have expressed the infinite love of the Divine nature ; and in working out a most perfect righteousness for those he loved, he also wrought out a most perfect happiness for himself. The eternal laAV of God links the happiness of all the creatures made in His image in an electric chain, united in the Divine love ; and He, who has "a fellow- feeling for our infirmities," has given us a fellow-feeling with the sufferings of each other. So that no soiil in which the Divine image is not totally obscured, can ' know of the misery of another, without a sympathetic throb of sorrow. The true heart in Maine cannot know that the slave- mother in Georgia is weeping for her children, torn Speaks for Itself. 233 from lier arms by avarice, without feeling lier anguish, palpitating in its inmost core. It is the pulsations of the sympathetic heart which stretches out the hand to interfere between her and her aggressor ; and abolitionists are just seeking a soft pillow that they may " sleep o' nights." It is selfishness, I tell you, all selfishness ! The great whale when she gives up her own large life to protect her 3'oung one, and the little wren when she carries all the nice tit bits to her babies, are as true to themselves as the old pig when she shoulders all her little family out of the trough. The whale enjoys death, and the wren her little fel- lows' supper, with a better zest than an old grunter does her corn, and Wm. Gildersten in spending money and laboring ito prevent 'any more scenes of brutal vio- lence in his State, by punishing the one past, gratifies his own loves and longings quite as much as Judge Grier in grunting out his wrath against all lovers of liberty. The one would enjoy being hanged for the cause of God and Ilumanity, more than the other would the luxury of hanging him, even if he could have all the pleasure to himself, — ^be not only judge and persecu- 284 A Letter. tor, as lie prefers, but marsLal, jailor, and Langman to boot. More tlian this, every creature, so far as other crea- tures are concerned, has a right to be happy in his own way. Nero had as much right to wish for power to cut off all the heads in Italy at one blow, as an inno- cent pig to wish for capacity to eat all the corn in the world. Mankind has no right to punish either for the desire or its manifestation, They should only make fences to prevent the accomplishment of the wish. Americans have no right to punish Judge Grier for wishing to persecute everybody who attempts to en- force State laws against murderous assaults by Jiis officers. They should content themselves with fenc- ing his Honor in, or, if necessary, j)utting a ring in his nose. He has as much right to be Judge Grier as George Washington had to be George Washington, and is no more selfish in following the instincts of his nature, than Washington was in following his. Without any great resj^ect, I am your friend, C^y'^ c^ A<^/^A^4^ i^^^^^^^C^^ New York, Nov. 22d. (^ c^. ^:^^t^.t^/L^ 1 fe Clje Sning S^oliloiiii]) of tlje Dictiiii d " TTB \vas approaclied from beliind by Deputy Mar- shal Wj-iicoop and his assistants, knocked down with a mace and partially shackled. The fugitive, who had unsuspectingly waited upon them during their breakfast at the Phenix Hotel, was a tall, noble- looking, remarkably intelligent, and a nearly white mulatto ; after a desperate effort and severe struggle, he shook off his^^ve assailants, and with the loss of everything but a remnant of his shirt, rushed from the house and plunged into the water, exclaiming: " I will drown rather than be taken alive." He Avas pur- sued and fired upon several times, the last ball taking effect in his head, his face being instantly covered with blood. He sprang up and shrieked in great agony, and no doubt would have sunk at once, but 244 A Dying Soliloquy. for the buoyancy of tlie water. Seeing his condition, the slave-catchers retreated, coolly remarking that " dead niggers were not worth taking South." Than be a slave, Dread death I'll brave. And hail the moment near. When the soul mid pain, Shall burst the chain That long has bound it here. Earth's thrilling pulse, Man's stern repulse, This weary heart no longer feels ; Its beating hushed Its vain hopes crushed, It craves that life which death reveals. That moment great My soul would wait, In awe and peace sublime ; Nor bitter tears, Nor slave-born fears, As I pass from earth to time. A Dying Soliloquy. 245 The angry past, Like phantoms vast, Glides by like the rushing wave ; So soon shall I, Forgotten lie, In the depths of my briny grave. The time shall be, " When no more sea" Shall hide its treasures lone ; Then my soul shall rise. Clothed for the skies. To find its blissful home. Foul deeds laid -wrong The whip and thong, Have scored my manhood's heart, But ne'er again Shall fiends constrain My body to the slave's vile mart. The 'whelming wave, This corpse shall lave ; Let tlie winds still pipe aloud, 246 A Dying Soliloquy. Let tlie waters lasli, The wliite foam clasli, O'er my mangled brow and bloody shroud. Eoll on, tlion free, Unfettered sea. Thy restless moan, my dirge. My cradle deep In my last lone sleep, Is the scoop of thy hollow surge. Would I might live, One glance to give, To those whose hearts would bless, Each word of love. All price above, As mine to theirs 1 press. The wish is vain ; My frenzied brain, Is dark'ning even now ; Above, above. Is Heaven's love. And mercy's wide arched bow. I 247 ^ X»YING SOLILOQUY. Glad free-l3orn soul Wltb grateful bold, +^P crift from Heav'n— Kow grasp the gn^ Tliy freedom won, Hew life begun, Forgive, tbou'rttbereforgiVn. I I ITff ail It ^m. ^m shore to sio.e-eve. beautiful ' ^re thj crystal waters-Q sea the deep. ^ "'"'"'^^P' "J=-» "^^ bosom of B«whenth,sto™.pressedWl,owsb„,. The grasp which man would "In, ^'>»doI.ostWethee,;i '"^°''''^'^-«-" Thou emblem of the Free. •^W above me beam the stars, Ho- beautifauu their infi„i.,<,e of light 0-tbe blue heaveus spread, like gemt Upon the brow of youth I ^-.£- away, beyond the paths of da^ LetallbeFbee. 249 More glorious yet, as suns wliicli never set, In darkness never ! but sMning forever 1 You are more loved by me — Ye emblems of tlie Free. All earth of the beautiful is full. Beautiful tlie streams wbich leave the rural vales, Fringed with scarlet berries and leafy green! world of colors infinite, and lines of ever-varying grace. How by sea and shore art thou ever beautiful 1 But the torrent rushing by, and the eagle in the sky, The Alpine heights of snow where man does never go, More lovely are to me. For they are Free. Beautiful is man, and yet more beautiful Woman : coupled by bare circumstance Of place or gold, still beautiful. But this must fade ! Only the soul, grows never old : They most agree, who most are free : Liberty is the food of love 1 11* 250 I^ET ALL BE Free. The heavens, the earth, man's heart, and sea, Forever crj, ht all be Free! I Ki-NTucKr, 1853. -^w* -■S-i-edl^j c.Buttre. ^C 'c^^cUji ^®^- ^<^^. To the Editor of the " Autographs for Freedom^ Dead, Madam, — If the enclosed paragraph from a speech of mine delivered in May last, at the anniversary meetinj^ of the American and Foreign Anti-Shivery Society, shidl be deemed suited to the pages of the forth- coming annual, please accept it as my contribution. With great respect, Rochester, November, 1853. Qy ^ I r It r t ♦ colored man, witTi any nervous sensibility, can stand before an American audience without an in- tense and painful sense of tlie disadvantages imposed by his color. He feels little borne up by that brotherly sympathy and generous enthusiasm, which give wings to the eloquence, and strength to the hearts of other men, who advocate other and more popular causes. The ground which a colored man occupies in this country is, every inch of it, sternly 252 EXTEACT. disputed. Sir, were I a white man, speaking for the right of white men, I should in this country have a smooth sea and a fair wind. It is, perhaps, creditable to the American people (and I am not the man to de- tract from their credit) that thej listen eagerly to the report of wrongs endured by distant nations. The Hungarian, the Itahan, the Irishman, the Jew and the Gentile, all find in this goodly land a home ; and when any of them, or all of them, desire to speak, they find willing ears, warm hearts, and open hands. For these people, the Americans have principles of justice, maxims of mercy, sentiments of religion, and feelings of brotherhood in abundance. But for my poor people, (alas, how poor!) — enslaved, scourged, blasted, overwhelmed, and ruined, it would appear that America had neither justice, mercy, nor religion. She has no scales in which to weigh our wrongs, and no standard by which to measure our rights. Just here lies the grand difficulty of the colored man's cause. It is found in the fact, that we may not avail ourselves of the just force of admitted American prin- ciples. If I do not misinterpret the feelings and phil- osophy of my white fellow-countrymen generally, they wish us to understand distinctly and fuUy that they EsTRAGT. 253 have no otLer use for us whatever, than to coin dol- lars out of our blood. Our position liere is anomalous, unequal, and extra- ordinary. It is a position to "wMcli tlie most courage- ous of our race cannot look witliout deep concern. Sir, we are a hopeful people, and in this we are for- tunate ; but for this trait of our character, we should have, long before this seemingly unpropitious hour, sunk down under a sense of utter despair. Look at it, sir. Here, upon the soil of our birth, in a country which has known us for two centuries, among a people who did not wait for us to seek them, but who sought us, found us, and brought us to their own chosen land, — a people for whom we have per- formed the humblest services, and whose greatest com- forts and luxuries have been won from the soil by our sable and sinewy arms, — I say, sir, among such a people, and with such obvious recommendations to favor, we are far less esteemed than the veriest stranger and sojourner. Aliens are we in our native land. The fundamental principles of the republic, to which the humblest white man, whether born here or elsewhere, may appeal with confidence in the hope of awakening a favorablo II 254 Extract. response, are held to be inapplicable to us. The glorious doctrines of your revolutionary fathers, and the more glorious teachings of the Son of God, are construed and applied against us. We are literally scourged beyond the beneficent range of both authori- ties, — human and divine. We plead for our rights, in the name of the immortal declaration of independence, and of the written constitution of government, and we are answered with imprecations and curses. In the sacred name of Jesus we beg for mercy, and the slave- whip, red with blood, cracks over us in mockery. We invoke the aid of the ministers of Ilim who came " to preach deliverance to the captive," and to set at lib- erty them that are bound, and from the loftiest sum- mits of this ministry comes the inhuman and blasphem- ous response, saying: if one prayer would move the Almighty arm in mercy to break 3-our galling chains, that prayer would be withheld. We cry for help to humanity — a common humanity, and here too we are repulsed. American humanity hates us, scorns us, disowns and denies, in a thousand ways, our very ]Der- sonality. The outspread wing of American Christian- ity? apparently broad enough to give shelter to a perishing world, refuses to cover us. To us, its bones Extract. 255 are brass, and its fealliers iron. In running tliitlicr for shelter and succor, we have only fled from the hungry bloodhound to the devouring wolf, — from a corrupt and selfish world to a hollow and hypocritical church. ^rtract from an unpblisljcir IJarm en I'rcciom. • Oh, Freedom ! -wlien thj morning marcli began, Coeval witli the birtli and breath of man ; Who that could view thee in that Asian clime, God-born, soul-nursed, the infant heir of time — Who that could see thee in that Asian court. Flit with the sparrow, with the lion sport. Talk with the murmur of the babbling rill And sing thy summer song upon the hill — "Who that could know thee as thou wast inwrought The all in all of nature's primal thought. And see thee given bj Omniscient mind, A native boon to lord, and brute, and wind, Could e'er have dreamed with fate's prophetic sleep, The darker lines thy horoscope would keep, Or trembling read, thro' tones with horror thrilled, The damned deeds thy future name would gild ? On Freedom. 257 Lo ! The swart chief of Afric's vergeless plains, Poor Heaven- wept cliild of nature's joys and pains. Mounts his fleet steed with wind-directed course, Nor checks again his free unbridled horse. But lordless, wanders where his will inclines From Tuats heats to Zegzeg's stunted pines I View him, ye craven few, ye living-dead I Wrecks of a being whence the soul has fled I Ye Groths and Yandals of his plundered coast I Ye christian Bondous, who of feeling boast,* "Who quickly kindling to historic :^e Contemn a Marius' or a Scj-lla's ire,f '^ '• Ye Christian Bondous -who of feeling boast l" Unable in the whole range of my vernacular, to find an epithet sufficiently expressive to enunciate the ai!:gravated contempt which all feel for that pseudonymous class of phiiiintliropists, who flauntingly parade a pompous sympathy with jxipular and distant distresses, but studiously' cultivate a coarse ignorance of, and hauteur to, the Greeks, whii-h " are at tiie door,'' I have had recource to the Metonymy, Bondou, as rendered mournfully significant tlu-ough the melancholy fate of the illustrious Houghton. — Vide Report African Discovery Society. \ " Contemn a JIarius' or a Scylla's ire." Napoleon in his protest to Lord Bathurst, provoked by the petty tyranny of Sir Hudson Lowe, said of the " Proscriptions," and (by nega- tive inft-rence) in extenuation of tliem, that they "were made with the blood yet fresh iipon the sioord." A sentence, which, falling from the lips of one of the most imperturbably cool and calculating of mankind, un- der circumstances superinducing peculiar reflection on every word uttered, cannot but come with the force of a wliole volume of excoria- 258 On Freedom. Or kindly lulled to sympathetic glow, Lament the martyrs of some far-off woe, And tender grown, witli sorrow hugely great, "Weep o'er an Agis' or Jugurtha's fate ! * View him, ye hollow heartlings as he stalks The dauntless monarch of his native walks Breathes the warm odor which the girgir bears,f tlve evidence against the deraoralizatioa of war, even upon tLe most abstracted and elevated natures. — Vide Letters of Montholon and Las Cases. * " Weep o'er an Agis' or Jiigurtba's fate." Agis, King of Lacedemon and colleague of Leouidas, was a youth of singular purity and promise. Aiming to correct the abuses which had crept into the Spartan polity, he introduced regenerative laws. Among others, one for the equalization of property, and as an exam- ple of disinterested liberality, shared his estate with the community. Uiiappreeiated by the degenerated Senate however, he was deposed, and, with his whole family, strangled by order of the ingrate State. — Edin. Ell eye. It is said that when Jugurtha was led before the car of the con- querer, he lost his senses. After the triumph he Wiis thrown into prison, where, whilst they were in liaste to strip him, some tore his robes off his back, and others, catching eagerly at his pendants, pulled off the tips of his ears with them. When he was thrust down naked into the dungeon, all wild and confused, he said, with a frantic smile, " Heavens ! how cold is this bath of yours !" There s(rug;)-ling for six days with starvation, and to the last hour laboring for the preserva- tion of his life, he came to his end. — Plut. Cai. Mar. f "Breathes the warm odor which the girgir bears." The girgir, or the geshe el aube, a species of flowering grass. Piercing, fragrant, and grateful in its odor, it operates not unlike a mild stimulant, when respired for any length of time, and is found chiefly near the borders of small streams and in the vicinage of the Tassada. — Lyn. Ov,i. and Soud. Oisr Freedom:. 259 Shouts tlie fierce music of liis savage airs, Or madly brave in hottest chase pursues The tawny monster of the desert dews ; Eager, erect, persistent as the storm, Soul in his mien, God's image in his form ! Yes, view him thus, from Kaffir to Soudan, And tell me, worldlings, is the black a man ? See, the full sun emerging from the deep. Climbs with red eye, the light-illumined steep, ■ And brighth- beautiful continuous smiles A fecund blessing on those Indian Isles ! Like eastern woods which sweeten as they burn, So, the parched earths to odorous flowrets turn, And feathered fayes their murmurous wings expand, Waked by the magic of his conjuror's wand, Flash their red plumes, and vocalize each dell Where browse the feclio and the dun-gazelle,* * " Where browac the/fc/w and tlie dun-gazelle." Among the wild animals are prodigious numbers of the vari- colored species of the gazelle, the bohur sassa, fecho, and mado- qua. They are extremely numerous in the provinces depopulated by war atid slavery, enjoying the wild oats of the deserted hamlets without fear of molestation from a returning population. — Xotes on Central Africa. 260 On Freedom. Wliile half forgetful of lier changing sphere, The loathful summer lingers year b}- year. Here, in the light of God's supernal eye— His realms unbounded, and his woes a sigh — The dusky son of evening placed whileome Found with the Gnu an ever-vernal home, xind wiser than Athenas' wisest schools,* Nor led by zealots, nor scholastic rules, Gazed at the stars that stud yon tender blue, And "hoped, and deemed the cheat of death untrue * " And -wiser than Athenas' wisest schools, IsoT led by zealots, nor scholastic rules, Gaz'id at the stars which stud yon tender blue, And hoped and deemed the cheat of death untrue." Though Socrates and Plato, particularly the former, are generally admitted by writers of authority, among whom, indeed, are Polycarpe, Chrysotom, and Eusebius, to have in a manner sus- pected rather than believed, the immortality of the soul ; yet we have no evidence of their ever having, by the finest process of ratiocination, so thoroughly convinced themselves as to introduce it generally as a tenable thesis on the portico. A beautiful thread of implicit belief and fervent hope, of after life, assimilating to tlie huntins-ground of our own American Indians, and though sensuous still, a step far in advance of the black void of ancient philosophj', has always run through the higher mythologies of the Negro. So notorious, indeed, was the fact among early Christians, that that ubiquitous riddle, "Prestor John," was, by believers, regarded as naving a locale in Central Africa ; while Henry of Portugal actu- ally despatched two ambassadors, Corvilla and Payvan, to a rumored Christian court, south of the Sahara. — Edin. Encyc. Early Chris. Mis. Fort. Oisr FiiEEDCM. 261 Yet, supple sopTilst to a plastic mind* Saw gods in woods, and spirits in the wind, Ileard in the tones that stirred the waves within, The mingled voice of Hadna and Odin, Doomed the fleeced tenant of the wild to bleed A guileless votive to his harmless creed, Then gladly grateful at each rite fulfilled, Sought the cool shadow where the spring distilled, And lightly lab'rous thro' the torpid day, Whiled in sweet peace the sultry eve away. Or if perchance to nature darkly true, He strikes the Avar-path thro' the midnight de.w, Steals in the covert on the sleeping foe. And wreaks the horrors of a barbarous woe ; Yet, yet returning to the home- girt spot — * " Yet supple sophist to a plastic mind, Sees gods in woods, and spirits iu the "wind." The imagination of the African, like his musical genius, which extracts surprising harmony from the rudest of sources, the clapping of hands, the clanking of chains, the resonance of lasso wood, and perforated shells, seems to invest everything with a resident spirit of peculiar power. Accordingly, his mythologies are most numerous and poetical — his entire catalogue of superior gods alone, embrac- ing a more extended length than the Aasyro-Babylon Alphabet, with its three hundred letters. 262 On Freedom. The vengeful causes and tlie deed forgot — * Where greenest boughs o'er slopnig banks impend, And gurgling waves to bosky dells descend ; Intent the long expectant brood to sea, He halts beneath the broad acacia tree ; md warmly pressed by wonder-gloating eyes, Displays the vantage of each savage prize ; Stills with glad pride and plundered gems, uncouth, The ardent longings of his daughter's youth ; Bids the dark spouse the tropic meal prepare, Mid laughing echoes from the bird-voiced air ; Passes before him in a fond review The merry numbers of his crisp-haii'ed crew ;t * " The Teiigeful causes and the deed forgot." All travellers agree iu the facile ductility and inertia-like amia- bility of the native African character.— Beewsteu on Africa. f '■ The merry mirabers of his erisp-haired crew." The negro race is, perhaps, the most prolific of all the human species. °Their infancy and youth are singularly happy. The parents are passionately fond of their children.— Goldbury's Travels. "Strike me," said my attendant, "but do not curse my mother." The same sentiment I found universally to prevail. Some of the first lessons in which the Mandings women instruct their children is the practice of truth. It was the only consolation for a negro mother, whose son had been murdered by the Moor*, that " the hoy had never told a /ic."— Park's Travels. On Freedom. 263 Eecounts the dangers of the last night's strife, Jojs with their joj, and lives their inner life ; And then when slow the lengthened day expires, Mid twilight balms and star-enkindled fires, * With all the father sees each form retire, A ruthless heathen, but a loving sire.* Innocuously thus, thro' long, long years Untaught by learning, yet unknown to fears, The swarthy Afric wdiilc 1 the jocund hours, A petted child ofnaturc^i rosiest bowers. Till lured by wealth the hardy Portuguese,! Seeks the green waters of his Eastern seas, * " With all tlie father sees each form retire, A ruthless heathen, but a loving sire." " Or led the combat, bold -without a plan. An artless savage, but a fearless man." Campbell. ■j- "Till lured by wealth the hardy Portuguese, Sought the green waters of his Eastern seas, And venturous nations more excursive grown. Pierced his glad coast from radiant zone to zone." Vasquez de Gama, a Portuguese nobleman, "was the first to dis- cover a maritime passage to the Indies; unless, perhaps, we credit the improbable achievement of the Phosnicians, related by Herodo- tus as occurring, 604 B.C. De Gama doubled the cape in 1498, explored the eastern shores as far as Melinda, in Zanguebar, and sailing thence arrived at Calcutta in May. This expedition, second to none in its results, save that of 264 On Freedom. And venturous nations more excursive grown, Scan his glad coast from radiant zone to zone, Then Fortune's minion in a foreign clime, Cursed by his own and damned to later time, Of incest bom and by the chances thrown A tainted alien on a ravished throne, Gapes the foul flatteries of a fawning train, And fatuous mock'ries, which themselves disdain, A fancied monarch, biit the witless sport Of adulation, and a practiced court, "Vaunts to his broad realms and Timour-like proclaims Illusive titles of barbaric names, Cheats his own nature, and now generous grown,* Columbus six years before, drew the attention of all Europe. "Whole nations became actuated by the same enthusiasm, and private -com- panies of merchants sent out whole fleets on voyages of discover}', scouring the entire coast from Cape Verd to Gaudfui, and discover- ing the Mascharenhas and most of the islands of the Ethiopean Archipelago. * " Cheats his own nature and now generoiis grown, Dispenses realms and empires not his own." Charles V. granted a patent to one of his Flemish favorites, con- taining an exclusive right to import^our thousand negroes ! — Hist. Slavery. The crime of having/rs< recommended the importation of African slaves into America, is due to the Flemish iiobilitij,- who obtained a monopoly of four thousand negroes, which they sold to some Ge- noese merchants for 25,000 ducats. — Life of Cardinal Ximenes. They (the Genoese) were the first to bring into a regular form. On Fee ED Oil. 265 Dispenses souls and empires not his own, Draws the deep purple round his royal seat, Lifts his low crest, affects the God complete, Bj giving -with light breath, oh, shame to tell ! These heirs of Heav'u unto the fate of hell. Sped by the mandate of his recreant train, Lo ! commerce, broad winged seraph of the main ! Shook her white plumage and coqueting, won Propitious favors from the southern sun, Till manly hearts and keel-impelling gales, Furled on the coast her half-reluctant sails. Abashed, amazed, with fear-dilated eye The marvelling tribes these new-born wonders spy ; See from the shore, bright glittering in the sun. The moving freightage of each galleon ; Wait till the measured strokes of oars bring near These way-lost wanderers of another sphere, Then timorously glad, yet awe-struck still. Lead from the sunshine to the breezy hill ; With courteous grace a resting place assign 'Neath rustling leaves and grape-empurpled vine, that commerce for slaves, between Africa and Amei'ica, which had Bince grown to such an amazing extent. — Robertson. 12 266 On Freedom. And led by craft in artless pride make known The lustrous lurements of their gorgeous zone, As in the field some skilful ranger sets The fraudful cordage of his specious nets, Places some fragrant viand in the snare, And captive takes the unsuspicious hare ; So the bold strangers with superior will Lay their base plans with disingenuous skill. Ope their stored treasures and with art display Their worthless figments to the air of day, EoU their large lids, and with grave gestures laud Each, tinsel trinket and each painted gaud ; With mystic signs of strange import apply Some gew-gaw bauble to the gloating eye ; Touch with nice skill, yet craft- dissembled smile, Gems from the mine and spices from the Isle, Affect no care, yet hope a thrifty sale — The wealth of Empires in tli' opposing scale — While he, the poor victim of their selfish creed. Prescient of evil art foredoomed to bleed. Pleased yet alarmed, desiring but deterred. Flutters still nearer like a snake-charmed bird ; Alas, too often taken with a toy — Too soon to weep a kindred fate with Troy ! On Feeedom. 267 Evils received, like twilight stars dilate, The less the light, the larger gi'ows their state ; Thus the first error in that savage air, Spreads as a flame, and leaves a ruin there. Too dearly generous and too warmly true,* The simple black wears out the fatal clew, — From barter flies to trade ; from trade to wants ; From wants to interests and derided haunts ; Thence, rolls from off the once-sequestered shore, The turgid tide of havoc and of war ; Xo warning ringing from the red adunes, No prophets rising, and no Laocoons, Kemotest tribes the baleful influence own ; Feel to extremes, and at their centres groan. Now laughs the stranger at their anguished throes, f Feeds on their ills, and battens on their woes ; * " Too warmly generous and dearly true, The simple black," &c. It -will remain an indelible reproach on the name of Europeans, that for more than three centuries their intercourse with the Africans has only tended to destroy their happiness and debase their character. — Edin. Encij. \ " Now laughs the stranger at their anguished throes." The arts of the slave-merchant have inflamed the hostility of their various tribes, and heightened their ferocity by sedulously in- creasing their wars. — Ihid, 268 On Freedom. Glads his freed conscience at eacli pillaged mine, And finds forgiveness at a Christian shrine ; By specious creeds and sophists darkly taught,* To semble virtue and dissemble thought, "With Saviour-seeming smile, adds fuel to the flame, — Ulysses' craft, without Ulysses' aim,-— And sadly faithful to his dark designs, Fiction improves ; heroic rage refines ; For lo ! Achilles, victor of the train ! Draws Hector lifeless, round the Ilian plain ; But ah ! these later Greeks more cruel strive, And bind their victim to the load alive ! Oh, beats there. Heaven, beneath thy gorgeous blue, One heart so basely to itself untrue, So dead of pulse, and so insensate grown. It feels not such a cause dear, as its own ? * " By specious creeds and sopliists darkly taught." Hamlet's advice to his offending mother ; — " Assume a vii'tue, tho' you have it not." Adding hypocrisy to avowed unworthiness, was the acknowledged injunction of the church, wherever and whenever she participated in secular affairs, with a view of emolument. For a peculiar illus- tration of this favorite doctrine, see Clement VI. 's edict, when, in virtue of the right arrogated by the holy .see to dispose of all countries belonging to the heathen, he erected (1344) the Canaries into a king- dom, and disposed of them to Lewis de la Corda, a prince of Castile. On Fheedom. 269 Dwells there a being 'neath tliine eye, oh, God I A fellow-worm from out the self-same clod, Whose fevered blood does not impatient boil, Fierce as a tiger's in the Imuter's toil. To sec degenerate men and States prolong, So foul a deed — so thrice accursed a wrong ? Tell me, je loud-voiced winds that ceaseless roll, Eternal miracles from pole to pole. Breathes there on earth so vile and mean a thing That crushed, it will not turn again and sting ? And say ! ye tyrants in your boasted halls, Eead ye no -warnings on your darkened -walls ? Hear ye no seeming mutterings of the cloud Break from the millions which your steps have bowed ? Think ye, ye hold in your ignoble thrall, Mind, soul, thought, taste, hope, feeling, valor, all? No ; these unfettered scorn your nerveless hand. Sport at their -will, and scoff at your command, Eange through arcades of shadow-brooding palms, Snuff their free airs and breathe their floating balms, Or bolder still, on fancy's fiery wing — * * " Or bolder still on fancy's fiery wing." That I do not exaggerate the belle lettres and classical accomplish- ments of at least two of the "chattels" of the "peculiar institu- tion," in th6 lines following the above, see "Poems written by Uo&a and ALaria," property of South Garoliaaf and publiaLed in 1834. 270 On Feeedom. Canglit from their letters at the noon-day spring— With star-eyed science, and her seraph train Read the bright secrets of yon azure plain ; Hear Loxian murmurs in Rhodolphe's caves'^ Meet with sweet answers from the nymph-voicea waves ; Sit with the pilot at Phoenicia's helm, And mark the boundries of the Lybian realm ; See swarthy Memnon in the grave debate, m Dispute with gods, and rule a conqu'ring state, And warmly and kindling dare — ^yes, dare to hope, A second Empire on the future's scope 1 And thou, my country, latest born of time ! Dearest of all, of all the most sublime ! How long shall patriots own, with blush of shame, So foul a blot upon so fair a name ? How long thy sons with filial hearts deplore, A Python evil on thy Cjrprean shore ? * " Hear Loxian murmurs in Rodolphe's caves." Loxian is a name frequently given to Apollo by Greek writer^ and is met with, more than once, in the " Choephorse of Eschylus." — CamphelL Euripides mentions it three, times, and Sophocles twice, its euphony recommends it more than any other name of the fair- haired god. On Freedom. 271 "What ! and wilt thou, the moral Herctiles Whose youth eclipsed the dream of Pericles, Whose trunceant bands heroically caught, The Spartan phalanx with the Attic thought, The wizard throne of age- nursed error hurled, Defied a tyrant and transfixed a world I Wilt tliou see Afric like old Priam sue. The bones of children as in nature due, And foully craven, ingrate-like forget. Thy life, thy learning's her dishonored debt ? Say ; wilt not tlioii^ whose time-ennobling sons — Thy Jay's, thy Franklin's and thy Washington's, Caught the bright cestus from fair freedom's God, And bound it as a girdle to thy sod ; Ah ! wilt not thou with generous mind confess The might of woe, the strength of helplessness ? High-Heaven's almoner to a world oppressed, "Who in the march of nations led the rest ! * Will there no Gracchus in thy Senate stand And speak the wordb that millions should command ? ISTo Clysthementhe 'neath thy broad arched dome, Predict the fortunes with the crimes of Eome ? * " And in the marcii of nations led the van" Campbdl 272 On Freedom. Shall time yet partial in his cycling course, Bring thee no Fox, no Pitt, no Wilberforce ? Still must thou live and corybantic die, A traceless meteor in a clouding sky; Thy name a cheat ; thyself, a world-wide lie? No ; there will come, prophetic hearts may trust, Some embryo angel of superior dust, With brow of cloud and tongue of livid flame — Another Moses, but in time and name — • Whose Heaven-appealing voice shall bid thee pass- On either hand a wall of living glass ; — Ope for the Lybian with convulsive shock His more than Horeb's adamantine rock, And gazing from some second Pisgah, see Thy idol broken and thy people free. Richmond, Dec. 1st, 1853. J.CB-aiire A. ^^^ ^M£/^^-u^' f ft t rr BiiOOELYN, December 6tli, 1863. TjEAR SIR,— Your note of ISTovember 29t]i, req^uesting a line from me for the Autographs for Freedom, is re- ceived. I wish that I had something that would add to the literary value of your laudable enterprise. In so great a cause as that of human liberty, every great interest in society ought to have a voice and a decisive testi- mony. Art should be in sympathy with freedom and literature, and all human learning should speak with unmistalcaUe accents for the elevation, evangelization, and liberation of the oppressed. In a future day, the historian cnnnot purge our political liistoor from the shame of wanton and mercenary o]ipre?sion. But there is not, I believe, a book in the literature of our 12* 274 A Letter. country that will be alive and known a hundred years hence, in which can be found the taint of despotism. The literature of the world is on the side of liberty. I am very truly yours. a^«Twl>!jrJ Bultr* // / J^^ %■ S'^^11 ^F^^t at lluiiforir fydl TT was a jDleasant morning in May, — I believe that is the orthodox way of beginning a story, — when C. and I took the cars to go into the country to Playford IlalL " And what's Playford Hall ?" you say. " And v^hy did you go to see it ?" As to what it is, here is a reasonably good picture before you. As to why, it was for many years the residence of Thomas Clarhson, and is now the residence of his venerable widow and her family. Playford Hall is considered, I think, the oldest of the fortified houses in England, and is, I am told, the only one that has water in tlie moat. The water which is seen girdling the wall in the picture, is the moat ; it surrounds tlic place entirely, leaving no access except across the bridge, which is here repre- sented.' 278 A Day Spent at After crossing this bridge, you come into a green court-yard, filled witli choice plants and flowering shrubs, and carpeted with that thick, soft, velvet-like grass, which is to be found nowhere else in so perfect a state as in England. The water is fed by a perpetual spring, whose current is so sluggish as scarcely to be percepti- ble, but which yet has the vitality of a running stream. * It has a dark and glassy stillness of surface, only broken by the forms of the water plants, whose leaves float thickly over it. The walls of the moat are green Avith ancient moss, and from the crevices springs an abundant flowering vine, whose delicate leaves and bright j'cllow flowers in some places entirely mantled the stones v/ith their graceful drapery. The picture I have given }-ou represents only one side of the moat. The other side is grown up Avith dark and thick shrubbery and ancient trees, rising and embowering the wKole place, adding to the retired and singular effect of the Avhole. The place is a specmen of a sort of thing Avhich does not exist in America. It is one of those significant landmarks Playford Hall. 279 which unite the present with the past, for which we must return to the counlr}* of our origin. Playford Hall is a thing ^^eculiarly English, and Thomas Clarkson, for whose sake I visited" it, \vas as peculiarly an Englishman, — a specimen of the very best kind of English mind and character, as this is of characteristic English architecture. We Anglo-Saxons have won a hard name in the world. There are undoubtedly bad things which are true about us. Taking our developments as a race, both in England and America, we may be justly called the Romans of the nineteenth centiny. We have been the race w'hich has conquered, subdued, and broken in pieces, other weaker races, with -little regard either to justice or mercy. With regard to benefits by us imparted to conquered nations, I think a better story, on the whole, can be made out for the Romans than for us. Witness the treatment of the Chinese, of the tribes of India, and of our own American Indian?;, But still there is an Anglo-lSa^n blood, a vigorous sense of justice, as appears in our Habeas Corpus, our jury trials, and other features of Slate organization, and, when this is tempered in individuals, with the 280 A Day Spent at elements of gentleness and compassion, and enforced by that energy and indomitable perseverance wLicli are cliaracteristic of the Anglo-Saxon mind, they form a style of philanthropists peculiarly efficient. In short, the Anglo-Saxon is efficient, in whatever ho sets himself about, whether in crushing the weak, or lifting them up. Thomas Clarkson was born in a day when good, pious people, imported cargoes of slaves from Africa, as one of the regular Christianized modes of gaining a subsistence, and providing for them and their house- holds. It was a thing that everybody was doing, and everybody thought they had a right to do. It was supposed that all the coffee, tea, and sugar in the woild were dependent on stealing men, women, and children, and could be got no other way ; and as to consume coffee, sugar, rice, and rum, were evidently the chief ends of human existence, it followed that men, women, and children, must be stolen to the end of time. Some good people, when they now and then heard an appalling story of the cruelties practiced in the slave ship, declared that it was really too bad, sympa- thetically remarked, "What a sorrowful world we Playford IIall. 281 live in," stirred their sugar into tlicir tea, and went on as before, because, what was there to do — hadn't everybody always done it, and if they didn't do it, wouldn't somebody else ? It is true that for many years individuals, at differ- ent times, remonstrated, had written treatises, poems, stories, and movements had been made by some re- ligious ladies, particularly the Quakers, but the opposi- tion had amounted to nothing practically efficient. The attention of Clarkson was first turned to the subject by having it given out as the theme for a prize composition in his college class, he being at that time a sprightly young man, about twenty-four years of age. He entered into the investigation with no other purpose than to see Avhat he could make of it as a col- lege theme. He says of himself: " I had expected pleasure from the invention of arguments, from the arrangement of them, from the putting of them together, and from the thought, in the interim, that I was engaged in an innocent contest for literary honor, but all my pleas- ures were damped by the facts, wliich were now con- tinually before me. "It was but one gloomy subject from morning tiU 282 A Day Spent at night ; in the clay time I was uneasy, in the night I had little rest, I sometimes never closed my eyelids for orief." It became not now so much a trial for academical reputation as to write a work which should be useful to Africa. It is not surprising that a work, written under the force of such feelings, should have gained the prize, as it did. Clarksou was summoned from Loudon to Cambridge, to deliver his prize essay publicly. He says of himself, on returning back to London : " The subject of it almost wholly engrossed my thoughts. I became at times very seriously affected while on the road. I stopped my horse oc- casionally, dismounted, and walked. " I frequently tried to persuade mj^self that the con- tents of my essa}^ could not be true, but the more I reflected on the authorities on which they were founded, the more I gave them credit. Coming in sight of Wade's Mill, in Hertfordshire, I sat down dis- consolate on the turf bj' the roadside, and held my horse. Here a thought came into my mind, that if the contents of the essay were true, it was time that somebody should see these calamities to an end." Playford Hall 283 These reflections, as it ajipears, were put off for awbile, but returned again. This 3'oung and noble heart was of a kind that could Qot comfort itself so easily for a brother's sorrow as many do. He says of himself: " In the course of the autumn of the same year, I walked frequently into the woods that I might think of the subject in solitude, and find relief to my mind there ; but there the question still recurred, ' are these things true ?' Still the answer followed as instantaneously, ' they are ;' still the result accompanied it, — surely some person should iaterfere. I began to envy those who had seats in Parliament, riches, and widely-extended connections, which would enable them to take up this cause. "Finding scarcely any one, at the time, who thought of it, I was turned frequently to myself, but here many difficulties arose. It struck me, among others, that a young man only twenty-four years of age could not have that solid judgment, or that kDOwledge of men, manners, and things, whiok were requisite to qualif)^ him to undertake a'^task of such magnitude and importance ; and with whom was I to unite ? I believed, also, that it looked so much like one of the 284 A Day Spent at feigned labors of Hercules, tliat mj understanding would be suspected, if I proposed it." He liowever resolved to do something for the cause by translating liis essay from Latin into English, en- larging and presenting it to the public. Immedi- ately on the publication of this essay, he discov- ered to his astonishment and delight, that he was not the only one who had been interested in this subject. Being invited to the house 'of "William Dillwyn, one of these friends to the cause, he says : " How sur- prised was I to learn, in the course of our conversa- tion, of the labors of Granville Sharp, of the writings of Eamsey, and of the controversy in which the latter was engaged, of all which I had hitherto known no- g. How surprised was I to learn that William Dill- n had, himself, two years before, associated himself with five others for the purpose of enlightening the public mind on this great subject. - "How astonished was I to find, that a society had been formed in America for the same object. These thoughts almost overpowered me. My mind was overwhelmed by the thought, that I had been provi- dentially directed to this house ; the finger of Provi- Platford Hall. 285 dence -v^as beginning to be discernible, and tliat tlie day-star oF African liberty "vvas rising." After this he associated with many friends of the cause, and at last it became evident that in order to effect anything, he must sacrifice all other prospects in life, and devote himself exclusively to this work. He says, after mentioning reasons which prevented all his associates from doing this : " I could look, there- fore, to no person but myself ; and the question was, whether I was prepared to make the sacrifice. In fa- vor of the undertaking, I urged to myself that never was any cause, whicb had been taken up by man, in anj' country or in any age, so great and important ; that never was there one in which so muck misery was beard to cry for redress ; that never was there one in which so much good could be done ; never one in which the duty of christian charity could be so ex- tensively exercised ; never one more wortby of the devotion of a whole life towards it; and that, if a man thought properly, he ought to rejoice to have been called into existence, if he were only permitted to be- come an instrument in forwarding it in any part of its progress. "Against these sentiments, on the other hand, I had 286 A DAT Spent at to urge that I bad been designed for tlie cTiurc'li ; tliat I had already advanced as far as deacon's orders in it; that my prospects there on account of my connections were then brilliant ; that, by appearing . to desert my profession, my family would be dissatisfied, if not un- happy. These thoughts pressed ripon me, and ren- dered the conflict difficult. " But the sacrifice of my prospects staggered me, I own, the most. When the other objections which I have re- lated, occurred to me, my enthusiasm instantly, like a flash of lightning, consumed them ; but this stuck to me, and troubled me. I had ambition. I had a thirst after worldly interest and honors, and I could not ex- tin aruish it at once. I was more than two hours in O solitude under this painful conflict. At length I yielded, not because I saw any reasonable prospect of success in my new undertaking, for all cool-headed and cool-hearted men would have pronounced against it; but in obedience, I believe, to a higher Power. And I can say, that both on the moment of this reso- lution, and for some time afterwards, I had more sub- lime and happy feelings than at any former period of my life." In order to show how this enterprise was looked * Playford Hall. 287 upon and talked of very commonly by tlie majority of men in these times, we will extract the followinsf passage from Boswell's Life of Johnson, in which Bozzy thus enters his solemn protest : '^he wild and dangerous attempt, which has for some tirH&.been per- sisted in, to obtain an act of our Legislature, t^ :§,bolish so very important and necessary a branch of commer- cial interest, must have been crushed at once, had not the insignificance of the zealots, who vainly took the lead in it, made the vast body of planters, merchants and others, whose immense properties are involved in that trade, reasonably enough suppose, that there could be no danger. Tlie encouragement which the attempt has received, excites my wonder and indig- nation ; and though some men of superior abilities have supported it, whether from a love of temporary popularity, when prosperous ; or a love of general mischief, when desperate, my opinion is unshaken. " To abolish a statute which in all ages God has sanctioned, and man has oiitinue^l, would not only be robbery to an innumerable class of our fellow-subjects, but it would be extreme cruelty to the African savages, a portion of whom it saves from n ■•-••■-, or intolera- ble bondage in their own country, ....d xutroducesinto 288 A Day Spent at a mucli happier state of life ; especially now, wlien tlieir passage to tlie West Indies, and their treatment there, is humanely regulated. To abolish this trade, would be to ' shut the gates of mercy on mankind.' " One of the first steps of Clarkson and his associates, was the formation of a committee of twelve persons, for the collection and dissemination of evidence on the subject. The contest now began in earnest, a contest a3 sub- lime as any the world ever saw. The Abolition controversy more fully aroused the lirtue, the talent, and the religion of the great English nation, than any other event or crisis which ever oc- curred. Wilberforce was the leader of the question in Par- liament. The otheE' members of the Anti-slavery Committee performid those labors which were neces- sary out of it. This labor consisted principally in the collection of evidence with rAonrd to the traffic, and the presenta- tion of it I- .: he public mind. In this labor Platfobd Hall. 239 Clarkson was particularly engaged. The subject was hemmed in with the same difficulties that now beset the Anti-slavery cause in America. Those who knew most about it, were precisely those whose interest it was to prevent inquirj-. An immense moneyed inter- est was arrayed against investigation, and was deter- mined to suppress the agitation of the subject. Owing to this jDowerful pressure, many who were in possess- ion of facts which would bear upon this subject, re- fused to communicate them ; and often after a lon-T and wearisome journey in search of an individual Vv ho could throw light upon the -subject, Clarkson had the mortification to find his lips sealed by interest or timidity. As usual, tlie cause of ojipression was de- fended by the most impudent lying; the slave-trade was asserted to be the latest revis:;d edition of phila' thropy. It was said that the poor AHi an, {'n' ^lav of miserable oppression in his own countiy, wai wafted by it to an asylum in a Christian land ; that the middle passage was to the poor negro a perfect elysiu.m, infinitely happier than anything he had ever known in his own country'. All this was said while manacles, and hand-cuffs, and thumb-screws, and in- stiuments to force open the mouth, wei^Pregular part 13 l^^ftQ 290 A Day Spent at of the stock for a slave ship, and were hanging in the shop windows of Liverpool for sale. For Clarkson's attention was first called to these things by observing them in the shop window, and on inquiring the use of one of them, the man informed him that many times negroes were sulky and tried to . starve themselves to death, and this instrument was used to force open their jaws. Of Clarkson's labor in this investigation some idea may be gathered from his own words, when stating that for a season he was compelled to retire from the cause, he thus speaks. " As far as I myself was con- cerned, all exertion was then over. The nervous sys- tem was almost shattered to pieces. Both my memory and my hearing failed me. Sudden dizzinesses seized my head. A confused singing in the ear followed me wherever I went. On going to bed .the very stairs seemed to daace up and down under me, so that, mis- placing my foot, ^ometimes fell. Talking, too, if it continued but ha|| an hour, exhausted me so that pro- fuse perspirations followed, and the same effect was produced even by an active exertion of the mind for the like time. These di^jriers had been brought on by degrees, in Playfoed Hall. 291 consequence of tlie severe labors necessarily attaclied to the promotion of the cause. For seven 3^ears I had a correspondence to maintain with four hundred per- sons, with my own hand ; I had some book or other annually to write in behalf of the cause. In this time I had traveled more than thirty-five thousand miles in search of evidence, and a great part of these journeys in the night. All this time my mind had been on the stretch. It had been bent too to this one subject, for I had not even leisure to attend to my own concerns. The various instances of barbarity which had come successively to my knowledge within this period, had vexed, harrassed, and afflicted it. The wound Avhich these had produced was rendered still deeper by those cruel disappointments before related, wliicli arose from the reiterated refusals of persons to give their testi- mon}^, after I had traveled hundreds of miles in quest of them. But the severest stroke wastnannme^d by the persecution, begun and pursimd by persons inter- ested in the continuance of the triae, of such witness- es as had been examined against them ; and whom, 1 m account of their dependent situation in life, it was most easy to oppress. As I had been the means of bringing these forward on these occasi^Jf they natur- / 292 A I^AY Spent at ally came to me, when tlius persecuted, as the author of their miseries and their ruin. From their suppli- cations and wants it would have been ungenerous and ungrateful to have fled. These different circumstanc- es, by acting together, had at length brought me into the situation just mentioned; and I was therefore obliged, though very reluctantly, to be borne out of the field, where I had placed the great honor and glorj of my life." I may as well add here that a Mr. Whitbread, to whom Clarkson mentioned this latter cause of distress, generously offered to repair the pecuniary losses of all who had suffered in this cause. One anecdote will be a specimen of the energy with which Clarkson pur- sued evidence. It had been very strenuously asserted and maintained that the subjects of the slave trade were only such unfortunates as had become prisoners of war, and who, M not carried out of the country in this manner, wouMbe exposed to death or some more dreadful doom in their own country. This was one of those stories which nobody believed, and yet was particularly useful in the hands of the opposition, be- cause it was^ifficult legally to disprove it. It was as^if perfectly wfljpiown that in very many cases slave- Platford Hall. 293 traders made direct incursions into the country, kid- napped, and carried ofl" the inhabitants of whole vil- lages, but the question was, how to establish it ? A gentleman whom Clarkson accidentally met on one of his journeys, informed him that he had been in com- pany, about a year before, with a sailor, a very re- spectable looking young man, who had actually been engaged in one of these expeditions ; he had spent half an hour with him at an inn ; he described his per- son, but knew nothing of his name or the place of his abode, all he knew was that he belonged to a ship of war in ordinary, but knew nothing of the port, Clark- son determined that this man should be produced as S.^ witness, and knew no better way than to go personally to all the ships in ordinary, until the individtial was found. lie actually visited every sea-port town, and boarded every ship, till in the very last poi-t and on the very last ship which remained, the individual was found, and found to be possessed Jfegust the facts and information which were necessary. By the labors of Clarkson and his cotemporaries an incredible excite- ment was produced throughout all England. The pictures and models of slave ships, ^||tounts of the cruelties practised in the trade, were^Kulated with, 294 A Day Spent at an industry wliicli left not a man, woman, or cliild in England uninstrncted. In disseminating information, and in awakening feeling and conscience, tlie women of England were particularly earnest, and labored Avitli that whole-hearted devotion which characterizes the sex. It seems that after the committee had published the facts, and sent them to every town in England, Clark- son followed them up by journeying to all the places, to see that they were read and attended to. Of the state of feeling at this time, Clarkson gives the follow- ing account : " And first I- may observe, that there was no town through which I passed, in which there was not some one individual who had left off the use of sugar. In the smaller towns there were from ten to fifty, by esti- mation, and in the larger, from two to five hundred, who made this sacrifice to virtue. These were of all ranks and parties. Eich and pooi', churchmen and dissenters had adopted the measure. Even grocers had left off trading in the article in some places. In gentlemen's families, where the master had set the ex- ample, the sotf^ts had often voluntarily followed it ; and even chmKn, who were capable of understanding Playford Hall. 295 the "history of the sufferings of the Africans, excluded with the most virtuous resolution the sweets, to which they had been accustomed, from their lijDS. By the best computation I was able to make, from notes taken down in my journey, no fewer than three hundred thousand persons had abandoned the use of sugar." It was the reality, depth, and earnestness of the public feeling, thus aroused, which pressed with resistless force upon the government ; for the government of England yields to popul.ir demands, quite as readily as that of Amei"; a. After years of protracted struggle, the victory was at last won. The slave-trade was finally abolished through rill the British empire; and not only so, but the English nation committed, with the whole force of its national influence, to seek the abolition of the slave-trade in all the nations of the earth. But the wave of "feeling did not rest there ; the investigations had brought before the English conscience the horrors and abominations of slavery itself, and the agitation w" never ceased till slavery was finally abolished through all the Brit' • iirces. At this time the religious mind and cousciencc of England gaigBL thi-ough this very struggle, a power which it nev^Bras lost. Tho f 296 A Day Spent at principle adopted by them was tlie same so suolimely adopted by the churcli in America, in reference to the Foreign Missionary cause : " The field is the world." They saw and felt that as the example and practice of England had been powerful in giving sanction to this evil, and particularly in introducing it into America, that there was the greatest reason why she should never intermit her efforts till the wrong was righted throughout the earth. Clarkson to his last day never'ceased to be interested in the subject, and took the warmest interest in all movements for the abolition of slavery in America. One of his friends, during my visit at this place, read me a manuscript letter from him, written at a very advanced age, in which he speaks with the utmost ardor and enthusiasm of the first anti-slavery move- ments of Cassius Clay in Kentucky. The same friend described him to me as a cheerful, companionable being, — frank and simple-hearted, and with a good deal of quiet humor. It is remarkable of mm that with such intense feel- inn- for human suflfe'nng as he«had, and worn down and cxhauste^M he was, by the dreamul miseries and sorrows with^pch he was constantly obliged to be Platford Hall. 297 familiar, he never yielded to a spirit of bitterness or denunciation. The narrative Vv'hich he gives is as calm and nnim- passioned, and as free from any trait of this kind, as the narrative of the evangelist. I have given this sketch of Avhat Clarkson did, that you may better appreciate the feelings with which I visited the place. The old stone house, the moat, the draw-bridge, all spoke of days of violence long gone by, when no man was safe except within fortified walls, and every man's house literally had to be his castle. To me it was interesting as the dAvelling of a con- queror, as one who had not wrestled with flesh and blood merely, but with principalities and powers, and the rulers of the darkness of this world, and who had overcome, as his great Mast^^did before him, by faith, and pra3'er, and labo||^^K AYe were received witiiinticn. cordiality by the widow of Clarkson, now in her eighty-fourth year. She has been a woman (^%reat energy and vigor, and an effici(^nt co-laborer in his plans of benevolence. She is now quite feeble. I was jjlaccd under the care of a respectable female seWint, who forthwith 13* 298 A Day Spent at installed me in a large chaniber overlooking the court-j'ard, whicli had been Clarkson's own room ; the room where for years, many of his most important labors had been conducted, and from whence his soul had ascended to the reward of the just. The servant who attended me seemed to be quite a superior woman ; like man}' of the servants iu respec- table English families. She had grown up in the family, and was identified with it ; its ruling aims and purposes had become hers. She had been the per- sonal attendant of Clarkson, and his nurse during his last sickness ; she had evidently understood, and been interested in his plans, and the veneration with which she therefore spoke of liim, had the sanction of intel- ligent appreciation. A daughter of Clarkson, who was married to a neigh- boring clergyman, with her husband, was also present on this day. After dinner we rode out to see the old church, in whose enclosure the-j^emains of Clarkson repose. It was just such a still, quiet, Wos^ old church, as you have read of in story-books, with the grave-yard spread all around i^like a thoughtful mother, who "watches the resting^Rer children. i^Jj Playfokd Hall. 299 The grass in the yard -was long and green, and tho daisy, which in other places lies like a little button on the ground, here had a richer fringe of crimson, and a stalk about six inches high. It is, I well know, the vital influence from the slumbering dust beneath, which gives the richness to this grass and these flow- ers; but let not that be a painful thought; let it rather cheer us, that beauty should spring from ashes, and life smile brighter from the near presence^,, death. The grave of Clarkson was near the churcE^ enclosed by a railing and marked by a simple white marble slab ; it was carefully tended and planted with flowers. In the church was an old book of r'ecords, and among other curious inscriptions, was one record- ing how a pious committee of old Noll's army had been there, knocking off saints' noses, and otherwise purging the church from the relics of idolatry. Near by the church -was the parsonage, tlje home of my friends, a neat, pleasant, sequestered dwelling, of about the style of a New England countr}'- par- sonage. Tho cff ct of the wliole together was inexpressibly bcavit-ful to me. For a wonder, it was a pleasant day, and liiis is a thing always to be'^iankfully acknowl- 300 A Day Spent at edged in England. The calm stillness of the after- noon, the seclusion of the whole place, the silence only broken bj the cawing of the rooks, the ancient church, the mossy graves with their flowers and green grass, the sunshine and the tree shadows, all seemed to mingle together in a kind of hazy dream of peace- fulness and rest. How natural it is to say of some place sheltered, simple, cool, and retired, here one might find peace, as if peace came from without, and not from within. In the shadiest and stillest places may be the most turbulent hearts, and there are hearts which, through the busiest scenes, carry with them unchanging peace. As we were walking back, we passed many cottages of the poor. I noticed, with particular pleasure, the invariable flower garden attached to each. Some pansies in one of them attracted my attention by their peculiar beauty, so very large and richly colored. On being introduced to the owner of them, she, with cheerful alacrity, offered me some of the finest. I do not doubt of there being suffering and misery in the agri- cultural population of England, but still there are multitudes of cottages, which are really very pleasant objects, as were allmiese. The cottagers had that Playford Hall. SOI bright, rosy look of liealtli whicli we seldom see in America, and appeared to be both polite and self- respecting. In tlie evening we had quite a gathering of friends from the neighborhood — intelligent, sensible, earnest, people — who had grown up in the love of the anti- slavery cause as into religion. The subject of conver- sation was : " The duty of English people to free themselves from any participation in American slavery, by taking means to encourage the production of free cotton in the British provinces." It is no more impossible or improbable that some- thing effective may be done in this way, than that the slave-trade should have been abolished. Every great movement seems an impossibility at first. There is no end to the number of tilings declared and proved im- possible, which have been done already, so that this may do something yet. Mrs. Clarkson had retired from the room early ; after a while she sent for me to her sitting-room. The faithful attendant of wbom I spoke was with her. She wished t||Sjriri|l^^ ^^^^ relics of her husband, his watch and seals, some of Ms papers and manu- scripts; among these was the identical prize essay 802 A Day Spent at witli wliicli lie began liis career, and a commentary on the Gospels, wliicli lie liad written witli great care, for the use of his grandson. His seal attracted my atten- tion — it Avas that kneeling figure, of the negro, with clasped hands, which was at first adopted as the badge of the cause, when every means was being made use of to arouse the public mind and keep the subject be- fore the attention. Mr. Wedgewood, the celebrated rprocelain manufacturer, designed a cameo, with this representation, which was much worn as an ornament by ladies. It was engraved on the seal of the Anti- Slavery Society,, and was used by its members in seal- ing all their letters. This of Clarkson's was hand- somely engraved on a large, old-fashioned cornelian, and surely if we look with emotion on the sword of a departed hero, which, at best, we can consider only as a necessary evil, we may look with unmingled pleasure on this memorial of a bloodless victory. When I retired to my room for the night I could not but feel that the place was hallowed — unceasing prayer had there beea offered for the enslaved and wronged race of Africa by that noble and brotherly heart. I could not but feel that that those prayers had had a wider reach than the mere exti^^tion of Playford Hall. 803 slavery in one laud or country, and tliat tlicir benign influence would not cease till not a slave was left upon the face of the earth. ^^'^t^^'-'S^ I^^^^.^-L ~—^ Cacljiug tljt ^luto U "liieiiiJ. ll/rUCH lias been discussed and written, botli at the North and South, concerning the pohcj and pro- priety of permitting those in bondage to gain the rudiments of a common education. Many who conscientiouslr/ (for having lived among them, I do believe that there are " conscientious " slave-ownei*s) hold tlieir laborers in servitude, believe that the experiment might be successfully tried. In- deed, it is often tried on plantations, even in States where thWaw enforces strict penalties against it. Thej^ b^l^ve that the slaves, if permitted to learn to read, would be more moral, faithful and obedient ; and they cannot reconcile it with their sense of duty to keep from them the perusal of the Bible. The majority, however, think differently; and the majority will always make the laws. They believe Teaching the Slave to Read. 805 that there is a talismanic power in even the alphabet of knowledge, to arouse in the bondsman powers •which thej would crush for ever. They believe that one truth leads on to another, and that the mind, once aroused to inquiry, will never rest until it has found out its native independence of man's dominion. They point triumphantly, in proof of the policy of their system, to the " spoiled slave," as they term many of those in whose training the opposite course has been pursued. More trouble, vexation, and insubordination, they confidently allege, has been caused by permitting slaves to learn to read, than by any other indulgence. It may be so ; it is certain that, in many instances, masters have failed to win the gratitude to which they thought themselves justly entitled, for their kindness and care. They have found their servants growing discontented and idle, where they hoped to make them docile and happy, Searchi^ for the cause^f this, they perhaps turn upon thftourse of training they have followed, and accMftit or being opposed to the best interests of the sla^P Could such reasoncrs but look upon the matter in its true perspective, they would cease to wondc that "good" should, in their view, " work out evil." Learning and Slavery can 806 Teaching the Slave to Eead. never compromise ; tliej are as the antagonistic poles of tlie magnet. In the first place, Slavery blunts the mind, and ren- ders it, in its early years, unsusceptible to those im- pressions which are generally so lasting, when made upon youthful minds. Many who have tried to edu- cate colored children, have been led to accuse the race of natural inferiority in its capacity to gain knowledge. We have no right to draw that inference from the few attempts which have been made on a part of the race whose mental faculties have, through many genera- tions, been crippled by disuse. I had once under my charge, for a short time, a negro girl, born in Africa — "Margru" of the ' Armistad," with, whose history most are familiar. On her ancestory hung no clog of depression, except that of native, wildness. There was no lack of aptitude to learj^n her case. She astonished all by the ease witli ^Xich she acquired knowledge, particularly in mathematical science. That a native heathen should be a better recipient of knowledge than one brought up in the midst of Americaai civilization, speaks well for "the race," but ill for "the systen^ " "'^i-^h has trained the latter. Teaching the Slave to Read. 807 Not oulj is this native dulness to be overcome, but time for study is to be found — time enougli for the faculties to unbend from the pressure of labor, and fix themselves upon the mental task. This is what few employers consider themselves able to afford. Once a week, in their opinion, is quite often enough for the slave to repeat his lesson ; and through the week he may forget it. No wonder that both the in- dulgent master and the teacher — yes, and the leara^^ too, often become discouraged, and give up the tasE before the Word of God is unlocked to " the poor," for whom it was expressly written ! I speak as one who has felt these obstacles, having, with the approval of one of the class to whom I have alluded, taken charge of a Sunday school among his servants. More attentive and grateful pupils I never had, but it has pained my heart to feel the difficulty of leading them even to the threshold of knowledge ; and there leaveing them! In an adjoining household, however, it was still worse. George, a ligntKJolored " boy" of twenty -live, the " factotum" oflila mistress, was the husband of our cook, Letty. I had succeeded in taking Letty 808 Teachiitg the Slave to Eead. tlirougli several chapters in the New Testament, and this had aroused the arobition of George. " What do you think ?" exclaimed one of the family to me, one morning ; " Mrs. has been whipping George !" " Why ! for what could that have been ? I thought he was a favorite servant !" " For taking lessons of Letty in the spelling-book !" It was even so. The poor fellow wanted to learn to "Stammer in his Testament, and Letty, like any true- hearted wife, had given him the httle assistance she could render. The whipping failed of its intended effect, however. Going one evening, at a late hour, into Letty's cabin, I found George seated by her on the floor, in the corner of their mud fire-place, poring intently over the forbidden sjDelling-book ! He started up confused, but seeing who it was, he was reassured, and went on with his lesson ! Whether George, Letty, or any of those who have gained the rudiments of science, will be more happy in their servitude, is to me exceedingly doubtful. Thus far the severer classes of masters have the right ; a slave, to be perfectly contented as a slave, must be in total ignorance. But better, far better, greater suffering, if it bring enlarge- Teaching the Slave to Eead. 809 ment of man's higher being, than that system that v.'ould smother the soul in its bodily case. Let the slave have the key to the gate of Life Eternal, even if his pathway through this life must be more thickly sown with thorns. Let the opposing principles wage, until the right of one is asserted. And, oh ! above all pray for the day when these fetters shall be stricken from the souls God has created, wherewith to people, we firmly trust, no mean "tabernacle" of His 1^ Jerusalem I (// ay!-^ TflJBODA-x, Nov. 25, 1853. FUM-JOTTmeS ; LAUGHS I HAVE TAKEN A PEN TO "M Most Popular Author Before tl.e Public! One Volume 12mo. Muslin— Price $1.25. FOURTH THOUSAND IN SIXTY DAYS! ALDL\, BE.IRDSLLY & Co.. Auburn. IV. Y., ? n ,, . WAAZiiK, JiLAKliMKY & Co., Koclicster, i\. Y., \ ^'^I'l'shcrs. Estracts from Notices of the Press. " From the title of the volume one would suppose that it was made iip exclusively of funny anecdotes and amusing sto- ries. Such, however, is not the fact. Many incidents narrated in the book, will be road with other feelings than those inspired by the perusal of laughable anecdotes. But they, as well ts the real ' Fun- Jottings.' will be perused with interest. The work is written in VVilli.s' peculiar and happy style. It will unques- tionably mtM3t with a wide sale. It is i)rinte(l in the best style of the art, and hand.somely bound." — Auburn Daily Adv. '* Some twenty choice love stories, aJl ending in fun. and redolent with mirth, arc related with humor and sentiment, which are decidedly captivating. "-7-urTEanks for- th'' new volume of Dr. Blake, " Tlio Farm and the 1 11 tside, or the Ilonianc« of Agricultui-e, being Half Houis and COMMENDATIONS OF THE PRESS. flcetcliea of Life in the Country," a charming title, certainly, and one that snracks of the man as well as of the country. Eschewing the dryness of scientific forms and erudite details, the author prest-uts de- tached, but most entertaining, and often very suggestive articles on a great variety of topics — from the " Wild Goose" to "Conscience in tlie Cow," — from the " Value of Lawyers in a Community" to the " Objec- tions to early Marriages." The book is, in fine, quite unique, and just such a one as the farmer would like to pore over at his fireside on long winter evenings. From the New-York Recorder. "The Farm and the Fireside," is a most interesting and valuable work, being a series of Sketches relating to Agriculture and the nu- merous kindred arts and sciences, interspersed with miscellaneous moral insti'uction, adapted to the life of the farmer. From the Germantown Telegraph. We have looked through this work and read some of the " Sketches," and feel a degree of satisfaction in saying that it possesses decided merit, and will commend itself, wherever known, as a volume of much social intei-est and entert;unment. The sketches comprise " Country JLife " generally - some of them are just sufficiently touched with ro- mance to give them addflional zest ; while others are piu-ely practical, and relate to the farmer's puisuit. We regard it as a valuable book, and are sorry our limits will not admit of bestowing upon it such a notice as it really deserves. From Harper's New Monthly Magazine. This work is a collection of miscellaneous sketches .on the Romance of A"riculture and Rui-al Life. Matters of fiict, however, are not ex- cluded fi'om the volume, which is well adapted for reading in the snatches of leisure enjoyed at the fk^er's fireside. From the True Democrat. Dr. Blake's publications are all of a high order, and are doing a most important work towai-ds refiumg the taste, improving the intellect, and COMMENDATIONS OF THE PEESS. ft^ndering attractive the vai-ious branches of Agiieultural science. In deed we kiiow no author who has so successfully blended the roman- tic, the rui'al and beautiful with the poetical, the useful, and true, as has Dr. Blake. This is a peculiar featui-e of all his works. His style is plain, simple, and perspicuous; and, with unusual tact and judgment, he so manages to insinuate himself upon you, that you are at once amused, delighted, and instructed with the subject h^ is dis- cussing. In this respect he relieves the study of agricultural scieuci? from the abstruseness of technical science, and thus renders hiuisell easily comprehended by all classes of readers. From the New-York Evening Post. Tlie author's object is to improve the soil through the mind — not so much to place in the hands of farmers the best methods t)f raising large crops — for these he refers them to Leibig's Agricultural Chem istry, and to treatises of the like description — but to make them feet how useful, agreeable, and ennobling, is the profession of agriculture, and, above all, how profitable the business must become wbc-. skilfuUv and economically carried on. These mouey-niidviiig considerations are, we suspect, the best moral guano that can be applied to the farmer's spiritual soil. The author writes well of the countryman's independ- ence, the good effect of fresh salubrious air upon his health, and the moi-al influence of his every-day intimacy with nature upon his mind, wf "Tile Farm and the Fireside" is a kind of Bucolical annual — to be read in seasons of leisure — intended for the Phyllises and Chloes, as well as for the Strephons and Lindors. Di". Blake has enriched it with curious anecdotes of domestic animals, and of the best way of raising and selling them. He describes model-farms, and the lai-ge incomes made fi-ora them. He expatiates on the advantages of matrimony in I'ural life, expounds the true theoi-y of choosing a helpmate, discusses the advantages of Sunday-Schools, and recommends neatness of attire and punctuality in bathing. In hliort, this volume is as diversified it. its aspect as the small gaiden of a judicious cultivator, where, in a limited space, useful cabbages, potatoes, and all the solid esculent greens, grow side by side with choice fruits and pleasant flowers. '^A^^-^ CiBt«. , (> ^ , . , ,. , s'^O^ ...... .^ ./i. <\ '•^1- ' * „ :> .0- 'O. * -LtA' .^ <;^- .O' ^%. ,^'^- s"^ - ^^ "■-^ • ^ ^ ' ,, , I • > '^ ■'• /--;>. ,v ^.-- ^°°- . 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