m)v mw's'-. :.■>'■- ■•'■■■■ fcll fflfei: n!ff§ '"til \\v,V,VtViV;.' • ■ gtiNF #& Bunk i 7 ^_b£ CHANNING'S LETTER TO THE ABOLITIONISTS, WITH COMMENTS. / LETTER 4 - TO TUP. ABOLITIONISTb, BY WILLIAM E. CHANNIKG. WITH COMMENTS. First published in the Liberator, Dec. 22, 1837- BOSTON: PRINTED BY ISAAC KNAPP, 25,CORNHILL. 1837. "-/ (5*-.>, i(*Iu" ■/■ LETT Boston, Dec. 14, 1837. My Friends : A recent event induces me to address to you a few remarks. I trust you will not ascribe them to a love of dictation, and esp< iaiiy that you will not think me capable ol ring a word of censure, in deference to th judices and passions of your opposers. Mr pathies are with the oppressed and persecut- I have labored, in a darker day than this, t< vi uiicate your rights; and nothing would tempt me at this moment to speak a disapproving word, if I thought I should give the slightest counte- nance to the violence under which you have suffered. I have spoken of the slight service which I have rendered, not as a claim for grat- itude ; for I only performed a plain duty; but as giving me a title to a candid construction of what I am now to offer. You well know, that I have not been satisfied with all your modes of operation. I have par- ticularly made objections to the organization and union of numerous and wide-spread socie- ties for the subversion of slavery. I have be- lieved, however, that many of the dangerous tendencies of such an association would be ob- 1 by your adoption of what is called ' the .' in other words, by your un- i elf-defence. To I is feature of your society, i have looked ;i> ;, e, that your zeal, even if it should proi ive, would not work much harm. You can judge, then, of the sorrow with which of the tragedy of Alton, where one of your respected brethren fell with arms in his hands. 1 felt, indeed, that his course was jus- I ; by the 1 iw s of hi ; country, and by the es- tabiished opinions and practi< e of the civilized world. 1 Ith, too, that the violence, un which he fell, regarded as an assault on the . ami our dean st rights, deserved the same reprobation from the friendsof free institutions, as if he had fallen an unresisting victim. But J fell that a cloud had gathered over your soci- and that a dangerous precedent had been given in the cause of humanity. So strong was this impression, that whilst this event found its way into other pulpits, 1 was unwilling to make it the topic of a religious discourse, hut prefer- red to i cpn 5S my reprobation of it in another place, where it would be viewed only in its bearings on civil and political rights. My hope was, that the members of your society, whilst the} would do honor to the Tearless spirit of your fallen brother, would still, with one loud voice, proclaim their disapprobation of his last act, and their sorrow that through him a cause of philanthropy had been stained with blood. In t is, I iiin sorry to say that J have been dls- apoointed! 1 have Been, indeed, no justifica- tion of the act. I have semi a lew disapprov- ing sentences, but no such clear and general testimony against this error of the lamented Lovejoy, as is needed to give nssurance against its repetition. I have missed the true tone in 'the Emancipator,' the organ of your National Society. I account for this silence, by }our strong sympathy with your slaughtered friend, and by your feeling as if one, who had so gen- erously given himself to the cause, deserved nothing but praise. Allow me to say, that hero you err. The individual is nothing, in comparison with the truth. Bring out the truth, suffer who may. The fact, that a good man has fallen through a mistaken conception of duty, makes it more necessary to expose the error. Death, -courageously met in a good cause by a respected friend, may throw a false lustre over dangerous principles which were joined with his virtues. Besides, we do not dishonor a friend in acknowledging him to have erred. The best men err. The most honored defenders of religion and virtue have sometimes been impelled, by the very fervor which made them great, into rash courses. I regret, then, that your disapprobation of Mr. Love joy's resistance to force has not been as earnest, as your grateful acknowledgments of his self-consecration to a holy cause. By these remarks, I do not mean, that T have adopted ' the peace principle ' to the full extent of my late venerated friend, Dr. Worcester, whose spirit, were he living, would be bowed down by the sad story of Alton. I do not say, that a man may in no case defend him- self by force. But, it may be laid down as a rule, hardly admitting an exception, that an enterprize of Christian philanthropy is not to be carried on by force ; that it is time for philanthropy to stop, when it can only ad- 6 vance by wading through blood. If God doea not allow ii> to forward a work of love without fight in g for it, the presumption is exceedingly .lit it is not the work, which he has given ns id do Is it asked, how such a caues, if assailed, is to be advanced? 1 answer, by appeals to the laws, and by appeals to the mor- al sent iment and the moral sympathies of the community. I answer, by resolute patience andheroic suffering. If patience and suffering, if truth and love will not touch a community, certainly violence will avail nothing. What! (•!), whose starting point is the love of every human being, hope to make their way by slaughter? Shall a cause, which relies on the inculcation of the disinterested spirit of Christi- anity a- its main instrument, seek aid in deadly .' Are we not shocked by this incon- gruity of means and ends t What fellowship has moral suasion with brute force? What con- cord between the report of the rifle and the teachings of philanthropy ? Let not this language be understood as in any measure extenuating the guilt of Mr. Love- joy's murderers. They stand on the same ground ;is if they had slain an unresisting man. Their crime began before he took arms. Their crime drove him to arms. Because his cause was too philanthropic and holy to allow him to fight for it, are we therefore to justify the vio- lence winch drove him to the use of force 1 Our country is greatly dishonored by the apathy with which the death of this victim to our most sacn d rights has been received. Had any other man but an abolitionist fallen in defence ol property and the press, how many now cold Would have spoken with indignation ! Here we learn how little the freedom of the press, con- sidered as a. principle, Is understood by our cit- izens ; and how few are prepared to maintain it on its true ground. Unless this freedom be complicated with a cause which they approve, the multitude care little for its violation. Un- less itbe wrested from their own party or friends, they will not trouble themselves with its de- fence; and here lies its danger. This freedom will never be assailed but in the person of an unpopular man ; and unless defended in this case, will not be defended at all. The press of a powerful party will never be stormed, nor its editor shot. From such violence, the right of free discussion has nothing to fear. It is through a weak party, through the editor who resists public sentiment, that the freedom of the press is to receive its deadly wounds. For these reasons, I felt that there was a peculiar call for solemn public remonstrance against the outrage at Alton. In lamenting that Sir. Love- joy died with arms in his hands, I do not palliate the crime of his foes, or diminish the obligation of every citizen to lift his voice against this fear- ful violation of civil rights. Nothing is plainer 'han that Mr. Lovejoy, had he succeeded in his defence, could not have accomplished his purpose, but would have placed him in a position more unfavorable to doing good than before. Suppose him, by a sustained and well directed fire, to have repelled his assailants. Would he have planted his press at Alton ? The following morning would have'revealed the street strewn with dead bodies. Relatives, friends, the whole people of the sur- rounding country, would have ru hed to the spot. What rage would have boiled in a thou- 8 ».\s of vengeance would i from a thousand lips! The men, d en jaged in the de» 'the press, would probably have been lorn limb from limb at the moment. If not, ive dogged them night and : and we should have been startled with . | orts of murders, till the hist vic- tim had fallen. Or suppose .Mr. Lovejoy to fled with hands stained with blood ; could he have preached with success the doctrines of Jove I Would not that horrible night have been d with all his future labors ? Happy- it for himself, happy for your cause, that under such circumstances he fell. I beg that this I ■ may not be so construed, as if I question the moral or religious worth of Mr. . [know nothing of him but good, except his last error : and that error does not amaze me. That a man hunted by ferocious foes, threat- I with indignities to his person, and with death ; and at the same time conscious of the I his work, conscious that civil rights, as well as the interests of the oppressed, involved in his decision ; that a man, so luld fail in judgment, we need not won- He knew that the constitution and laws side. He knew that the prevalent i of the precepts of Christ, which . was on his comprehend, how a good man, bo placed, should have- erred. I believe in his | to do and suffer for great truths and man's dearest rights. God forbid I h iuld give the slightest countenance - of men, who, had he fallen on their iu! 1 have lauded him to the skies. 9 It seems to mo of great importance, that you should steadily disavow this resort to force by Mr. Lovejoy. There are peculiar reasons for it ' Your position in our country is peculiar, and makes it important that you should be viewed as incapable of resorting to violent means. In the first place, you are a large arid grpw- ino- party, and are possessed with a fervent zeal, such as has been unknown since the be- o-innino- of our revolutionary conflict. At the same tune, you are distrusted, and, still more, hated by a multitude of your fellow-citizens. Here, then, are the elements of deadly strife. From masses so hostile, so inflamed there is reason to fear tumults, conflicts, bloodshed. What is it which has prevented these sad results in the past, in the days of your weakness Your forbearance ; your unwillingness to meet force, by force. Had you adopted the means of defence, which any other party, so perse- cuted, would have chosen, our streets mignt a-ain and again have flowed with blood, oo- ciety might have been shaken by the conflict. If now, in your strength, you take the sword, and repay blow with "blow, what is not to be feared 1 "it is one of the objections to great associations, that they accumulate a power, which, in seasons of excitement and exasper- ation, threatens public commotions and I which may even turn our country into a field of battle. I say, then, that if you choose to organize so- vast a force for a cause which awakens neice passions, you must adopt < the-peace pnncip e L your inviolable rule. You must tr«t »n the laws, and in the moral sympathies of the conn man ty. You must try the power of Buffering 10 for truth. The first christians tried this among communities more ferocious than our own. You have yourselves tried it, and through it have made rapid progress. To desert it might be to plunge the country into fearful contests, and to rob your cause of all its sanctity. ] proceed to another consideration. The South has denounced you as incendiaries; has predicted, from your associated efforts, insur- rection and massacre within its borders. And what has been the reply which you and your friends have made? You and they have point- ed to the prevalence of the peace-principle in your ranks, as a security against such effects. You have said, that you shrunk from the asser- tion of rights by physical force ; that, could you approach the slave, you should teach him patience under wrongs, and should spare no effort to warn him against bloody and violent means of redress. What becomes of this de- fence, if you begin to wield the sword ? Deep- ly moved as you are by the injuries of the slave, can you be expected to preach to him submis- sion and peace, if you yourselves shall have caught the spirit of war, the scent of blood ? Will the south have no cause of alarm, when the em :mi«8 of its ''domestic institutions' shall have sprung up from unresisting sufferers into warri- ors I Will not your foes at the North be armed with new weapons for your ruin? To me it seems, that if you choose to array your force under the standard of a vast organization, you are hound to give a pledge to the country that you will not violate its peace. Hitherto, I have appealed confidently to your pacific princi- ples as securities against all wrongs. 1 have seen with indignation the violence of cow- 11 ardly and unprincipled men directed, against an unresisting band. I trust that your friends will never have cause to grow faint in your de- fence. I trust that the tragedy of Alton will draw from you new assurances of your trust in God, in the power of truth, and in the moral sympathies of a christian people. I have now accomplished the chief end which I proposed to myself in this communication. But the same spirit, which has suggested the preceding remarks, induces me to glance at other topics. This spirit is a most friendly one, a sincere desire for your purity and success. I have more than once, as you well know, lamented the disposition of some, perhaps many of your members, to adopt violent forms of speech. In reply to this complaint, it has been said that the people, to be awakened, must be spoken to with strength; that soft whispers will not break their lethargy; that nothing but thunder can startle a community, steeped in selfish unconcern, to the wrongs of their neigh- bor. What can be done, it is asked, without strong language? I grant that great moral convictions ought to be given out with energy, and that the zeal which exaggerates them may be forgiven. But exaggerations in regard to persons, are not to be so readily forgiven. We may use an hyperbole in stating a truth. We must not be hyperbolical in setting forth the wrong doing of our neighbor. As an example of the unjust severity which 1 blame, it may be stated, that some among you have been accus- tomed to denounce slaveholders as 'robbers and man-stealers.' Now, robbery and stealing are words of plain signification. They imply that a man takes consciously and with knowledge 12 , dher. T l1, i to seize ' j force, the acknow- or. Now, is the to be cli these crimes ? lat the siave he holds is not his itrary, is there any part of . to w hich in' thinks himself to have .' I grant that the delusion is a monstrous one. I repel with horror the claim of ownership of a human being. I can as i I, as of owning a man. But do we not know, that tliere are . :.t the North, who, regarding the statute- . as of equal authority with the Sermon on the .Mount, ami looking on legal as synonimous with moral right, believe that the civil law can te property in a man, as easily as in a brute, and who, were they consistent, would think to put their parents 1111- , should the legislature decree, that ■, the parent should become the slave child? Is it wonderful, then, that Jit up in sight of enslaved human beings, in the habit of treating them as chat- . and amidst laws, religious teachings, and ity of institutions, which recognize claim, should seriously think them- the owners of their fellow-creatures? I hat they do vi< w the slave as vinir him, they are no of robbing and stealing, than one who, by misapprehension, to him self u hat belongs to we authorized to say, that l the South, u ho, if they should their misapprehension, would choose h then; rather than live by 13 robbery and crime ? Are all hearts open to our inspection? Has God assigned to us his pre- rogative of judgment ? Is it not a violation of the lows of Christian charity, to charge on men, whose general deportment shews a sense of justice, such flagrant crimes as robbery and theft? It is said, that, by such allowances to the master, I have weakened the power of what I have written against slavery ; that I have fur- nished a pillow lor the conscience of the slave- holder. But truth is truth, and we must never wink it out of sight for the sake of effect. God needs not the help of our sophistry or exagger- ation. For the sake of awakening sensibility, we must not, in our descriptions, add the weight of a feather to the sufferings of the slave, or the faintest shade to the guilt of the master. Slave- ry indeed, regarded as a violation of man's most sacred rights, should always be spoken of by us with the deepest abhorrence ; and we otitrht not to conceal our fear, that, among those who vindicate it, in this free and Christian land, there must be many who wilfully shut their eyes on its wrongs, who are victims of a voluntary blindness, as criminal as known and chosen transgression. Let us speak the truth and the whole truth, and speak it in the lan- guage of strong conviction. But let neither policy nor passion carry us beyond the truth. Let a severe principle of duty, stronger than excitement, watch and preside over all our ut- terance. Allow me here to speak of what seems to me a very objectionable mode of action, which your Society are inclined to adopt : I mean, the exclusion of slaveholders from the privileges of the Christian church. I did hope that the 14 partition walls, which an unenlightened zeal has bo long erected round the communion table, giving way; and that none would be ex- cluded, except such as should give proof in their lives of hostility to the Christian law. That the Lord's Supper should be turned into a weapon ol assault on our opponents, is a mon- strous abase of it. Will it be said, that the holder cannot be a Christian, and must therefore be shut out? Do we not know, that God has true worshippers in a land of slavery? Is adherence to a usage, which has existed for ages in the church, an infallible proof of an unsanctified mind ? Was not Grimke a Chris- tian, whilst a slaveholder? My last conversa- tion with that excellent man turned on slave- i v : and though he listened patiently to the hope, which I expressed, that this evil was to e, he gave no response to my wishes and hopes. Let it not be said, that by excommu- ition, the conscience of the slaveholder will be awakened. We must not for this, or any oilier good, turn a Christian ordinance from its < nd. The Lord's Supper was instituted to unite in closer bonds the friends of the com- mon Saviour, and through this union to make them more receptive of light and purifying in- fluence from one another. Let it not be turn- ed iuto a brand of discord. The time will un- doubtedly come, when good men will shrink from Blaveholding more than from death. But many a Bincere disciple is at present blinded to this outrage on human rights; and he ought not to be banished from the table which Christ has Bpread for all his friends. I and in your writings a mode of excusing your severity of language, which I think un- 15 sound. You justify yourselves by the strong rebukes uttered by Jesus Christ. But Christ must be followed cautiously here. Was he not a prophet ? Was he not guided by a wisdom granted to him alone? Had he not an insight into the hearts and characters of men, which gave a certainty to his severer judgments? Shall the Christian speak with the authority of his Lord? Nor is this all. Jesus could re- prove severely, without the dangers which be- sets all human reproof. His whole spirit was love. There was not a prejudice or passion in his breast, to darken or distort his judgment. He could not err on the side of harshness. Are toe so secured? Jesus could say of himself, 4 I am meek and lowly in heart.' So unbound- ed was his generosity and candor, that, the agonies of death, he prnyed for the en lies who had nailed him to the cross, and urged in their behalf the only extenuation which their crime would admit. Such a being might safe- ly trust himself to his most excited feelings. His consciousness of perfect love to his worst foes, assured him against injustice. How dif- ferent was rebuke from the lips of Jesus, from that which breaks from ours ! Had we I een present, when he said, 'Alas! for you, Phari- sees, hypocrites ! ' we should have heard tones which breathed the purest philanthropy. We should have seen a countenance, on which the indwelling divinity had impressed a celestial love. How different were these rebukes from the harsh tones and hard looks of man ! Christ's denunciations had for their ground- work, if I may so speak, a character of perfect benignity, sweetness, forgiveness ; and they were in harmony with this. They were scat- 16 ',i a life, which was spent in spread- ing - with the munificence of a God. You justify your severity by Christ's. Let n s gentle* your lives as beneficent as his, and I will promise to be contented wit!) von; . bukes. Having expressed my disapprobation and that it is right to close this letter with expressing t he deep interest I fee! in you, as an association, but as men pledged to I of all lawful means for the subversion ry. There is but one test by which in- dividuals or parties can be judged, and that is the principles from which they act, and which they are pledged to support. No matter how many able men a party may number in its ranks ; unless pledged to great principles, it must pass away, and its leaders sink into ob- livion. There are two great principles to which you are devoted, and for which I have always honored you. The first is, the freedom of the i. This you have not only vindicated with your lips fnd pens ; but you have asserted it amidst persecutions. The right of a man to publish his conviction on subjects of deepest em to society and humanity, this you have held fast when most men would have shrunk from it. This practical assertion of a great prin -i; le, 1 hold to be worth more than the I i loquent professions of it in public meet- ings, or than all the vindications of it in the closet. I have thanked you, and thank you in, in the name of liberty, for this good • ice which you have rendered her. I know of pone, to whom her debt is greater. There was a time when the freedom of the press needed no defenders in our land, for it was 17 strong in the love of the people. It was re- cognfzed as the pervading life, the conserva- tive power of our institutions. A voice raised ao-ainst it would have been pronounced moral treason. We clung to it as an immutable prin- ciple, as a universal and inalienable right. We received it as an intuitive truth, as no more to be questioned than a law of nature. But 1 the times are changed, and we change with them.' Are there no signs, is there nothing to make us fear, that the freedom of speech and the press, regarded as a right and a prin- ciple, is dying out of the hearts of this people? It is not a sufficient answer to say, that the vast majority speak and publish their thoughts without danger. The question is, whether this freedom is distinctly and practically recog- nized as every man's right. Unless it stands on this ground, it is little more than a name ; it has no permanent life. To refuse it to a minority, however small, is to loosen every man's hold of it, to violate its sacredness, to break up its foundation. A despotism, too strong for fear, may, through its very strength, allo\v°to the mass great liberty of utterance ; but in conceding it as a privilege, and not as a right, and by withholding it at pleasure from offensive individuals, the despot betrays him- self as truly, as if he had put a seal on every man's lips. That State must not call itsell free, in which any party, however small, can- not safely speak their minds; in which any party are exposed to violence for the exercise of a universal right; in which the laws, made to protect all, cannot be sustained against brute force. The freedom of speech and the press seems now to be sharing the lot of all great 2 18 principles. History shows us, that all great principles, however ardently espoused for a time, have a tendency to fade into traditions, to d< -i nerate into a hollow cant, to become words of little import, and to remain for dec- lamation, when their vital power is gone. At such a period, every good citizen is called to do what in him lies, to restore their life and power. To some, it may be a disheartening thought, that the battle of liberty is never to end, that its first principles must be establish- ed anew, on the very spots where they seemed immovably fixed. But it is the law of our be- inu, ihat no true good can be made sure with- out struggle ; and it should cheer us to think, that to struggle for the ri^ht is the noblest use of our powers, and the only means of happi- ness and perfection. Another ground of my strong interest in your body is, that you are pledged to another principle, far broader than the freedom of the prc->, and on which this and all other rights repose. You start from the sublimest truth. You oppose slavery, not from political or world- I. considerations. You take your stand on the unutterable worth of every human being, and on In- inalienable rights as a rational, moral, and immortal child of God. Here is your Btrength. Unlike the political parties which agit tte the country, you have a principle, and the grandest which can unite a body of men. Thai you fully comprehend it, or are always faithful to it, cannot be affirmed ; but you have it, and it is cause of joy to see men seizing it rvi n in an imperfect torm. All slavery, all op- pressive institutions, all social abuses, spring from or involve contempt of human nature. 19 The tyrant does not know, who it is whom he tramples in the dust. You have caught a glimpse of the truth. The inappreciable worth of every human being, and the derivation of his rights, not from paper constitutions and hu- man laws, but from his spiritual and immortal nature, from his affinity with God, these are the truths, which are to renovate society, by the light of which our present civilization will one day be seen to bear many an impress or barbarism, and by the power of which a real brotherhood will more and more unite the now divided and struggling family of man. My great interest in you lies in your assertion of these truths. The liberation of three millions of slaves is indeed a noble object ; but a great- er work is, the diffusion of principles, by which every yoke is to be broken, every government to be regenerated, and a liberty, more precious than civil or political, is to be secured to the world. I know with what indifference the doctrine of the infinite worth of every human beincr, be his rank or color what it may, is lis- tened to by multitudes. But it is not less true, because men of narrow and earthly minds can- not comprehend it. It is written in blood on the cross of Christ, lie taught it when he as- cended, and carried our nature to heaven. Tt is confirmed by all the inquisitions of philoso- phy into the soul, by the progress of the human intellect, by the affections of the human heart, by man's intercourse with God, by his sacri- fices for his fellow creatures. I am not dis- couraged by the fact, that this great truth has been espoused most earnestly by a party which numbers in its ranks few great names. The prosperous and distinguished of this world, 20 given as they generally are to epicurean self- iudulgence and to vain show, are among the last to comprehend the worth of a human be- ing, to penetrate into the evils of society, or to impart to it a fresh impulse. The less pros- perous classes furnish the world with its re- formers and martyrs. These, however, from imperfect culture, are apt to narrow themselves to one idea, to fasten their eyes on a single evil, to lose the balance of their minds, to kindle with a feverish enthusiasm. Let such remember, that no man should take on himself the ollice of a reformer, whose zeal in a par- ticular cause is not tempered by extensive sym- pathies and universal love. This is a high standard, but not too high for men who have started from the great principle of your associ- ation. They, who found their efforts against oppression on every man's near relation to God, on ('very man's participation of a moral and immortal nature, cannot without singular in- consistency grow fierce against the many in their zeal for a few. From a body, founded on such a principle, ought to come forth more enlightened friends of the race, more enlarged philanthropists, than have yet been trained. « .11 aid from dishonor the divine truth, which you have espoused as your creed and your rule. Show forth its energy in what you do and suf- fer. Show forth its celestial purity, in your freedom from unworthy passions. Prove it to be from God, by serene trust in his Providence, by fearless obedience of his will, by imitating his impartial justice and his universal love. I now close this long letter. I have spoken the more freely, because I shall probably be prevented by various and pressing objects, from 21 communicating with you again. In your great and holy purpose, you have my sympathies and best wishes. I implore for you the guidance and blessing of God. Very sincerely, your friend, WM. E. CHANNING. LETTER OF DR. CHANNING. 1X3= The foregoing Letter has been tendered to us, by its author, tor publication in the Liberator. It will answerone good purpose, at least — namely, to stimulate conversation, excite private and public discussion, and thus help to carry on the good work of agitation. Nothing is so pregnant with evil, social, political and moral, as the public mind in a state of stagnancy ; for it then becomes a Dead Sea, in which nothing that has life can exist. Whatever, therefore, serves to ruffle its surface, or put its water into billowy commotion, — from the gentlest breath of heaven to the all-sweeping hurricane, — is better than the absence of vitality. So this Letter, though it is defective in principle, false in its charity, and inconsistent in its reasoning, will doubt- less prove useful to the cause of dying humanity ; use- ful as a provocative, as better than something worse, as a challenge to universal attention. Its spirit is compla- cent and amicable; its purpose, unquestionably good; its style, elaborate and transpicuous. The motives of. its author, in addressing it to the abolitionists of this country at the present time, we doubt not are pure, be- nevolent, commendable. Dr. Channing, if he is some- times cautious even to criminality, has no duplicity. We have never distrusted, and certainly do not intend to impeach, his sincerity; but sincerity is compatible with error not less than with truth : it is neither wisdom nor rectitude : it is a divorcement fiom hypocrisy, but not necessarily an alliance with right. As a whole. (thougl II portion of it is not without value,) this Letter contains little to enlighten, reform or elevate pub- lic sentiment; lor what is contradictory fails to be either instructive or admonitory. recent spirited appeal of Dr. Channing from the arbitrary decision of the city authorities, respecting the opening of Faneuil Kail, as well as his Letter to Henry Clay, led us to hope that his vision was becoming more . his spirit more intrepid, and his acquaintance with the real state of the hearts of slaveholders more accurate. But this Letter shows no improvement : — nay, it bears marks of new infirmities. Its homily to abolitionists upon the christian obliga- tion not to resort to carnal weapons in self-defence, or in aid of the cause of liberty, finds a sincere response in our own bosom, because it is in accordance with our in- dividual sentiments. But, with all deference, we ask, is it consistent, is it decorous, can it be instructive, for a man who rejects the doctrine of non-resistance, to enforce it as a religious duty upon others — upon those who are most exposed to perils, suffering, and lawless outrages of the most flagitious character ? We humbly conceive that Dr. Channing is not qualified, at present, to instruct abolitionists in relation to • the peace princi- ple.' There is a beam in his own eye — a mote only in theirs. He confesses thai his late justly venerated iri -nl, Dr Worcester, was more long-suffering, pacific, and merciful, in principle, towards enemies, than be is himself disposed to he ! Again he observes— ' I do not Bay, thai a man may in no case defend himself by force.' Indeed ! But a greater than Dr. Channing does — Jesus, the Prince of Peace. We are not any wiser tor the ex- C ption which the Dr. makes : he neglects to designate in which a man may ' defend himself by force.' But he docs not hesitate to express his ' disapprobation of Mr. Lovejoy's resistance,' and also his opinion that ' it is time for philanthropy to stop, when it can only 23 advance by wading through blood.' The theory, then, it we rightly apprehend it, is this: A cause which is not benevolent will authorize the shedding of blood without guilt; that which is, will not; so that if 1 kill a robber merely (or my own preserva- tion, I do well— but if I lay down my life in defence of liberty, the rights of man, and the cause of God, all must of course be ' shocked by this incongruity of means and ends ' ! Certainly this is a nice distinction. { It God does not allow us to forward a work ot love [in a fearful emergency] by fighting for it,' what other work may be forwarded at the point ot the bayonet ? If men may fight at all, may they not fight for that which is most valuable, which most deeply concerns man- kind,which generously seeks universal instead of partial good'? We should like to know how it happens, that abolitionists are obligated to allow themselves to be torn in pieces by human tigers, any more than others, or why they may not fight for liberty like others. To the other complaints ot Dr. Channing against the use of ' hard language ' by the abolitionists, against calling slaveholders robbers and men-stealers, and ex- cluding them from the communion table, we have bare- ly room to say, that they originate clearly in the un- willingness ot Dr. C. to judge of the tree by its fruits. We may denounce sin in the abstract, or even in the lump, as much as we please ; but to say, 'Thou art the iri an,'— to identify and arraign men as sinners, ah ! that is not to be tolerated by decency, good manners, or christian charity ! But to show how utterly incoherent and strangely contradictory is Dr. C's language on sla- very, we" subjoin the following moral cross readings from his writings. Here are paradoxes ! DR. CHANNING versus DR. CHANNING. Republicans fy Christians alias Robbers & Menstealers. NOT GUILTY. GUILTY. 'Abolitionism seems to me 'He, who cannot see a to have been intolerant to- brother, a child of God, a wards the slaveholders, and man possessing all the rights 24 towards those in the free Btat< a who oppose them, or who refuse to take part in their measures. I say first, towards the slaveholder. The abolitionist has not spoken, and cannot speak ist slavery too strongly. IN o language can exceed the enormity of the wrong. But the whole class of slavehold- ers often meet a treatment in anti-slavery publications which is felt to be unjust, and iscertainlj unwise. . . .The man who holds slaves for gain, is the worst of robbers; for he selfishly robs his fellow creatines not only of their property, but of themselves. He is ihe worst of tyrants; for whilst absolute govern- ments spoil men of civil, he strips them of personal rights. But I do not, can- no i believe.that the MAJOR- ITY of slaveholders are of the character now described. 1 believe that the MAJORI- TY, could they be persuad- ed of the consistency of eman- cipation with the well-being of the colored race and with social oi iler, (!) woidd relin- quish their hold on the .-lave, and saci ifice their imagined propci t\ in him to the claims of justice and humanity. They shrink from emancipa- ti .n, because it seems to them a precipice. Having seen the colored man continually dependent on foreign guid- ance and control, they think him incapable of providing lor himself. Having seen the laboring class kept by . thej [eel as if the re- moval of his restraint would of humanity, under a ?kin darker than" his own, wants the vision of a Christian. He worships the Outward. The Spirit is not yet re- vealed to him.'— [Work on Slavery,, p. 10, Introduction.] ♦ The spirit of Christianity is universal justice. It re- spects all ihe rights of all beings. It suffers no being, however obscure, to be wrong- ed, without condemning the. lorong-docr.'' — p. 11 do. ' The slaveholder claims the slave as his property. The very idea of a slave is, that he belongs to another, that he is bound to live and labor for another, t< be anoth- er's instrument, and to make another's will his habitual law, however adverse to his own. Another owns him, and, of course, has a right to his time and strength, aright to the fruits of his labor, a right to task him without his consent, and to determine the kind and duration of his toil, a right to confine him to any bounds, a right to extort the required work by stripes, a right, in a word, to use him as a tool, without contract,, against his will, and in de- nial of his right to dispose of himself, or to use his power for his own good.' — p. 13. ' The very essence of slave- ry is, to put a man defence- less into the hands of anoth- er.'— p. 17. ' Now this claim of prop- erty in a human being is al- 25 be a signal to universal law- together false, groundless. leSsness and crime. That No such right of man in man such opinions absolve from all can exist. To hold and treat blame those who perpetuate him as property is to inflict a slavery, I do not sav. . . great wrong, to incur die Still, "while there is much to guilt of oppression. 1 his be condemned in the preva- position there is a difficulty lent feelings at the South, we in maintaining, on account have no warrant for denying of its exceeding obviousness to all slaveholders, moral and It is too plain for proof. religious excellence. The To defend it is like trying to whole history of the world confirm a self-evident truth. shows us, that a culpable The man who, on hearing blindness, in regard to one the claim to property in man, class of obligations, may con- does not see and feel that it sist with severe reverence is A CRUEL USUKI A- for religious and moral TION, is hardly to be reach- principles, so far astheyare ed by reasoning; for it is understood. In estimating hard to find any plainer prin- men's characters, we must ciples than what he begins never forget the disadvanta- with denying.'— p. U. ges under which they labor. Slavery upheld as it is at the ' If one man may be right- South, by the deepest preju- fully reduced to slavery, then dices of education, by the there is not a human being sanction of laws, bv the pre- on whom the same chain may Bcription of ages", and by not be imposed. Now let real difficulties attending every reader ask hira.-elt tins emancipation, cannot be ea- question: Could 1, can 1, be fi ilv viewed in that region as rightfully seized, and made it- appears to more distant an article ot property; »»e and impartial observers. Tim made a passive instrument Iratefulness of the system of another's will and pleas- ought to be strongly exposed, me; be subjected to aiv.lh- and it cannot be exposed too er's irresponsible power; >e stronafy; but the hatefulness subjected to stripes at anotn- iiiust°n«»t be attached to all er's will; be denied the con- who sUstjih slaverv. There trol and use of my own limbs are pure and generous spirits and faculties (or my own at the South : they are to be good? Does any man, so honored the more for the sore questioned, doubt, waver, trials amidst which their vir- look about him lor an an- lues have gained strength, swer? Is not t he rep I, g. y The abolitionists, in their en immediately, ,i£ .Tin ' '] * iS f S eem to have over- LY, BY HIS WHOLE IN- JSked hese truths in a great WARD BEING 1 Does not decree, bv their intolerance an unhesitating, unerring toward the slaveholder; have conviction spring up in my felt toward him indignation breast, that no oi her man rather than sympathy; and can acquire such a right in 2G tkened tho effect of their just invectives against the sys- tem which he upholds.' — [Letter to Birney.] ' A man born amongslaves, accustomed to this relation from his birth, taught its ne- cc -ity by venerated parents, associating it with all whom he reveres, and too familiar with its evils to see and feel their magnitude, can hardly be expected to look on slave- ry as it appears to more i in - partial and d istant observers. Let it not he said, that, when new light is offered him, he is criminaHn rejecting it. Are we all willing to receive new iight '? Can we wonder that such a man should be slow to be convinced of the criminali- ty of an abuse sanctioned by prescription, and which has BO interwoven itself with all the habits, employments, and economy of life, that he can hardly conceive of the exis- tence of society without this all-pervading element ? May he not he true to his convic- tions ofilutv iii other relations, though he grievously err in this I'— pp. 57, 58. 'The slave; virtually suffers the wrong of robbery, though with utter unconsciousness on the part • ■' those who in- dict it.'— p. 53. ' It is possible to abhor and oppose bad institutions, and \ et to ab.-'ain from in- discriminate condemnation of those who cling to them, and even to see in their ranks greater virtue than in oiir- ^. It is true, and ought myself? Do we not repel in- dignantly and with horror the thought- of being i educed to the condition of tools and chattels to a fellow-creature \ Is there any moral truth more deeply rooted in us, than that such a degrada- tion would be an infinite wrong? And if this im- pression be a delusion, on what single moral conviction can we rely! This deep as- surance, that we cannot be rightfully made another's property, does not rest on the line of our skins, or the place of our birth, or our strength or wealth. These tilings do not enter our thoughts. The consciousness of inde^'ruc- tible rights is apart of our moral being. In tasting the yoke from ourselves as an xinspeakable wrong, we CONDEMN OURSELVES AS WRONG-DOERS AND OP- PRESSORS IN LAYING IT ON ANY WHO SHARE OUR NATURE." — p. 15, 16. ' Who of us can unhlush- ingly lift his head and say that God lias written '• Mas- ter" there'? or who can show the word ; * Slave" en- graved on his brother's brow % '—p. 20. • To deny the right of a human being to himself, to his own limbs an i faculties, to his energy <>f body and mind, is an absurdity too gross to be confab d by any thing but a simple state- ment. Yet. this absurdity is involved in the idea of his be- longing to another.' — ' If a human being cannot without 27 to be cheerfully acknowledg- ed, that in the slaveholding States may he found some of the greatest names of our his- tory, and, what is still more important, bright examples £i. e. among slaveholders] of private virtue and Christian love.' — p. 60. ' Their are masters who have thrown off the natural prejudices of their position, zvho see slavery as it is, and who hold the slave chiefly, if not wholly, from disinterest- ed considerations; and these deserve great praise. They deplore and abhor the insti- tution ; but believing that par- tial emancipation, in the pres- ent condition of society, would bring unmixed evil on bond and free, they think themselves bound to continue the relation, until it shall be dissolved by comprehensive and systematic measures of the state. There are many of them who would shudder as much as we at reducing a freeman to bondage, but who are appalled by what seem to them the perils and diffi- culties of liberating multi- tudes, born and brought up to that condition. — There are many, who, nominally hold- ing the slave as property, still hold him for his own good and for the public order, and would blush to retain him on other grounds. Are such men to be set down among the unprincipled V pp. 59, 60. * Sympathy with the slave has often degenerated into in- justice towards the master. infinite injustice, be seized as property, then he cannot, without, equal wro»g, be held and used as such." — p. 21. ' If the slave receive inju- ry without me > sure at the first moment of i lie outrage, is he less injured by being held fast the second or the third 1 Does the duration of the wrong, theincrease of it by continuance, convert it into right % ' — ' Now the ground, on which the seizure of the African on his own shore is condemned, is, that that he is a man who has by his nature a right to be free. Ought not. then, the same condemnation to light on the continuance of his yokel '— p. 22. * Now the true owner of a human being i-; made mani- fest to all. It is Himself. No brand on the slave was ever so conspicuous as the mark of property which God has set on him. God, in mak- ing him a rational and moral being, has put a glorious stamp on him, which all the slave-legislation and slave- markets of worlds cannot ef- face.' — ' From his very na- ture it follows, that so to seize him is to offer an in- su't to his Maker, an I to in- flict aggravated social wrong. Into every human being. God has breathed an immortal spirit, more precious than the whole outward creation. No earthly or celestial language can exaggerat;- the worth ofa human being.' — ' i'i I God make s«ch a being to he 28 I wish to be understood, that, in ranking slavery among the greatest wrongs, 1 speak of the injurs endured by the Blave, and not of the char- i', U r of the master. 'J hese are distinct points. The for- mer does not determine the latter. . . Because a great injury is done to another, it docs nut follow that he who does it is a depraved man ; for he maj do it unconscious- ly, and. still more, may do it in the belief that be confers a good . . . We must judge others, not by our light, but by their own. We must take their place, and consider u hat allowance we in their posi- tion might justly expect . . • Our ancestors committed a deed now branded as piracy. Were they therefore the ofT- Bcouring of the earth'? Were :i .1 -urn- m them among the best of their times ? The ad- ministration of religion in al- most all past ages has been a violation ol the sacred rights of conscience. How many sects have persecuted and shed blood ! Were their members, therefore, monsters of depravit) !' — pp. 56, 57. 1 As an example of the un- just sevei ity which I blame, it may be stated, that some among \ n have been accus- tomed to denounce slavehold- ers as ' robbers and man- is. ' Now , robbery and stealing arc u ords ol plain signification. They imply thai a in in has consciously & with knowledge taken what belong* iu another. To steal is to seize privily, to rob is to seize by foice, the ac- owned as a tree or a brute % How plainly was he made to exercise, imlold, improve his highest powers; made for a moral, spiritual good ! and how is he wronged, and his Creator opposed, when he is forced and broken into a tool to another's physical en- joyment ! ' ' The sacrifice of such a being to another's will, to another's present, outward, ill-comprehended good, is the greatest violence which can. be offered to any creature of God.'— p. 23, 25, 26, 27. ' What ! own a spiritual being, a being made to know and adore God, and who is to outlive the sun and stars ! Should we not deem it a wrong which no punish- ment could expiate, were one of our children seized as property, and driven by the whip to toil 1 And shall God's child, dearer to him than an only son to a hu- man parent, be thus degra- ded 1 Every thing else may be owned in the universe ^ but a moral, rational being cannot be property. Suns and stars may be owned, but not the lowest spirit. Touch any tiling but this. Lay not your hand on God's? rational offspring. The whole spiritual world cries out, Forbear ! ' — p. 29. ' I have taken it for grant- ed that no reader would be so wanting in moral discrimina- tion and moral feeling, as to, urge that men may rightfully be seized and In Id as pioper- ty, because, vin ious govern- ments have su ordained. — - 29 knowledged property of one's neighbor. Now, is the slave- holder to he charged with these crimes'? Does he know (!) that the slave he holds is not his ownl On the con- trary, is there any part of his property, to which he thinks himself to have a strong er right! . . . Do we not know that there are men at the North, who, regarding the statute-book as of equal au- thority with the sermon on the Mount, and looking on legal as synonymous with moral right, believe that the civil law can create property in a man, as easily as in a brute] . . We are sure that they [slaveholders] do view the slave as property; and thus viewing him, they are no more guilty of robbery and stealing than one of you would be, who, by misappre- hension, (!) should appropri- ate to himself what belongs to another (!) And are we au- thorised to say, that there are none at the South, who, if they should discover their misapprehension, (!) would choose to impoverish them- selves, rather than live by robbery and crime! Are all hearts open to our inspection! Has God assigned to us his prerogative of judgment? Is it not a violation of the laws of Christian charity, to charge on men, whose general deport- ment shows a sense of justice, such flagrant crimes as rob- bery and theft!' — [Letter to Abolitionists.] * Allow me to speak of what seems to me a very ob- jectionable mode of action, What ! is human legislature the measure of right 1 Are God's laws to be repealed by man's!'— p. 29. 1 That same inward princi- ple, which teaches a man what he is bound to do tooth- ers, teaches equally, and at the same instant, what others are bound to do to him . . . Accordingly, there is no deep- er principle in human nature than the consciousness of rights.'— p. 34. ' Slavery violates, not one, but all human rights; and vi- olates them, not incidentally, but necessarily, systemati- cally, from its very nature.' 'In truth, no robbery is so great as that to which the slave is habitually subject- ed.'— pp. 50, 53. ' The plea «f benefit to the slave and the state avails him [the slaveholder] nothing.' — p. 61. t We can apply to slavery no worse name than its own. ?den have always shrunk in- stinctively from this state, as the most degraded. No pun- ishment, save death, has been more dreaded, and to avoid it death has often been endur- ed.'— p. 67. ' Is man to be trusted with absolute power over his fellow- creature! . . . Absolute pow- er always corrupts human na- ture, more or less.' — 'Sup- pose the master to be ever so humane. Still, he is not al- ways watching over his slave. He has his pleasures to attend 30 which your Society are in- clined lo adopt— 1 mean, the exclusion of slaveholders from the privileges of the Christian church. I did hope that the partition walls, which an unenlightened zeal lias so long erected round the com- munion tahle, were giving way ; and that none would he excluded, except such as should give proof in their lives of hostility to the Chris- tian law. That the Lord's supper should be turned into a weapon of assault on our op- ponents, is a monstrous abuse of it. Will it be said, that the slaveholder cannot be a Christian, and must therefore be shut out? Do we not know, that God has true worshippers in a land of slavery \ Is adherence to a usage, (!) which has existed for ages in the Church, an in- fallible proof of i • unsancti- fiedmind! . . . The Lord's supper was institul id to unite in closer bonds the friends of the common Savior, and through this union to make them more receptive of light and purifying influence from one another. Let it not be turned into a brand of dis- cord (!) The time will un- doubtedly come, when good men will shrink from slave- holding more than from death. But many a sincere disciple is at present blinded to this out- R \ (, I, o\ Ml- M \ N KIGHTS; and he ought not to be ban- ished from the table which Christ has spread for all his friends.' — [Ibid*] to. Tie is often absent. His terrible power must be dele- gated. And to whom is it delegated 1 To men prepared to govern others, by having learned to govern themselves! To men having a deep inter- e?t in the slaves 1 . . Who does not know, how often the overseer pollutes the planta- tion by his licentiousness, as well as scourges it by his se- verity 1 In the hands of such a man, the lash is placed. To such a man is committed the most fearful trust on earth ! For his cruelties, the master must answer, as truly as if they were his own.' — pp. 87, SS. 'The slave must meet CRU- EL TREATMENT, either inwardly or outwardly. Eith- er the soul or the body must receive the blow. Either the flesh must be tortured, or the spirit be struck down.' — 'It is a usurpation of the Divine dominion, and its natural in- fluence is to produce a spirit of superiority to Divine as well as to human laws.' — « Its direct tendency is to annihi- late the control of Christiani- ty.'— pp. 91, 92, 93. 31 THE TREE KNOWN BY ITS FRUITS. The following brief extracts are taken from a speech of William Goodell, delivered at the annual mseling of the Massachusetts A. S. Society in Boston, January, 1336 : 2. 4 It is ivrong to impeach men's motives' So says the oracle of fastidious decorum ! Ah ! Is it? Then, of course, it is wrong to reprove men's sins ; for there is no sin without wicked and selfish mo- tives. What broader shelter can Sin desire than this? Only imagine a Nathan reproving his mon- arch, with a very courtly disclaimer of impeaching 1 his motives ! — Listen to the meek and lowly Sa- viour — ' Woe unto you, Scribes and Pharisees, hy- pocrites.' Did he disclaim an impeachment of their motives ? — Take a lesson from the courteous Apos- tle — 'Thou child of the Devii ! Thou enemy of all righteousness.' But ' pray do not understand me, good Mr. Simon Magus, as impeaching any gentle- man's ves!' What would you think of such an Ap ' ? 3. ' ' '>■ betrays an unchristian spirit.' So says moder , corum, whenever any one manifests any moral indignation against oppression and crime! — Our ol lioned Divines used to tell us of a holy and an . nholy indignation. Modern decorum has rendered the distinction obsolete ; except, perhaps, when 'gentlemen of property and standing' give demonstration of their wrath against the reprovers of sin ! Go, ye fastidious ones, and learn what this mean- eth. 'God is angry with the wicked every day.' ' Be ye therefore followers of God as dear children.' ' I beheld the transgressors and was grieved.' ' Do 1 not hate them that hate thee ?' ' Ye that fear the Lord, hate evil.' 'Be angry and sin not.' 'Jesus looked round upon them with an