Skip to main content

Full text of "The liberty bell"

See other formats



3 1151 02744 1041 




/ , ■ v r. 


£ V^ „ 



I III. lUKT ()K 

William Birnev. Esq. 

®l)e Cibcrttj Beli. 

^ 1. r. 


Ciintij MtU, 


"It is said ihat ihe evil spiryles that bon in the rogyon, double mochc when they 
here the Bells rongeur and this is the cause why the Bells ben rong^en, whan greet 
tempesie and outrages of wether happen, to the end that the fiends and wycked spirytes 
should be abashed and flee. — TTie Golden Legend, by Wynhyn de Worde. 



^ -ycre 

. k 

/ a 
b / 









Consequeuccs, edgar buckixgham. 3 

The Strife -nith Slaver)', eiima michell, 20 

African Inventors, david lee child, 22 

<'ourage. JOHN morlet, 38 

L'Esclavage et los Etats-Unis, . a. uustave be beauhont, 40 

The United States and Slavery, . . jt. de beaumont, 43 

The Great Festival, .... willl\m h. furxess, 46 

The Autograph of Sim.s, .... soPHLi L. little, 67 

-More Warsaws than One, . . . Harriet martineau, 71 

Extraits de.s Souvenirs Politiques, . . . . m. aka(.;o, 85 

Passages from ■■ Political Keniiniscences," . . ji. arago, !K) 

Tlie Slave, rev. edwin, 95 

Faith in Human Brotherhood, . . williaji i. bowditcu, 99 

The Olive Trcc>. Henrietta sargent, 115 

Tlie Like and the DiiTerent, . . . Theodore parker, 122 

' adi/. 5IARL\ LOWELL, Ml 

The Virginia Maroons. .... edmund jackson, 143 

Stanzas, georgiana faxxy ros.s, 252 

1/Ksclavage aux Etats-Unis, . . m. victor schcelcher, 357 

Amerirnii Slnvi-r> 

.Sonnot, . 

■• Nulla ventigiii ritror=um,' 

Uiiox, .... 

.St'>Tnour funuiuKluuu, 

The Joy of Wi-nUli. 

!>• I'lirLiliuuii-uio r'. IX-cUiv.u'i.', 

I'hrUtiaiiity aii'l - 

Till- Sluvi- ill AiiK I . 

A Ix'ttor, ... 


I 'Uristiaiiiiy u Criiue, 

To Powcr-i, the Sculptor. 

The Huron do Suel-lIoLsttin, 

L'KscUivage Ui Mime Purtoiit, . i 

Slavery the .Same Everywhere. 

To Kos.«uth, .... 

The Ijiw of Progress and Slavery, 

The Maniunictcd Slave, 

Gxpostulutiun, . 

The Uiii«, 


M. VK-rolt gi'IKKLlllKK, WA 


licoRue r. T.\uiuT, 172 


JOBEl'n T. BLlKI>UII.VM, 187 

LOL'lii.l J. ll.VLL. "iliy 

.'. M. MARTLS P.VSi'llOl'Ii. 207 

M. M.IRTIS PA8C1I01'1>, 2V-i 

OEOUUE TU0.MP80.\, 219 

.'wENfiELL l-HILLII'.<, 222 

JA.ME3 UIR.NARD, 2^1; 


A.NO.VYJIOl'8, 2iJ0 








U.\RRI£T W. LIST, 3lX> 



Suggested by the inscription on the Bell of the Hall of Independence, 
Philadelphia. " Proclaim Liberty throughout all the land, unto 
all the injiabitants thereof.'' 


Not to tkis land alone ; to every clime 

Those tones of hope and prophecy were borne ; 
Forerunners of the sure if distant morn 

That yet shall break as in that earlier prime 


By angels grofteil. Not le.s.s .sweet the chime 
Wlifii eVL'i-y I liflT shall echo back the Liys 
Of Slaves niaJo Freeiueu. On what shore shall 

i'he tir^i etiulgL-uco of that light tiublime 'i 
O Land from whence this beacon fire should sliine, 
Land hallowed by the tread of Pilgrim feet, 
Land sanctified by prayers, made dear by gi-aves 
( >f Frccdum's martyrs, rouse in strength diviin' 
And in true penitence those tones repeat I 
The old world's despots vanish with thy Slaves. 

WVvmouth, October 1, I80I. 




The discussion of the subject of Aljolitionisiu is 
having one happy effect, if no other, upon the 
connnunity, — it brings us back to the consider- 
ation of first principles in morals and religion. 
Given certain views of moral truth, we are Slave- 
holders, or apologists for Slavery, on the one hand, 
or we are Abolitionists, on the other. Much of 
the excitement, much of the asperity, much of the 
outrageous and violent denunciation that have 
attended the Anti-Slavery movement, on the one 
side or the other, might to a oreat extent have been 
avoided, had the fact lieen clearly understood, that 

Tin: I.IItKflTY IIKI.I.. 

^•oat uionil [)riiici[»k'.s were in (jUL'Stion, greater 
and deeper, even, tlian that wliieli seems the dee|>- 
est that can agitate our miiid.s, — the right of man 
to jiru|iLTtv ill his tVllow man. Aii<! nearly all 
great nuestions that have agitateil any comnmnity, 
through the long course of history, have depended 
on some points, unseen for the most part, l»y one 
party or the other of those who were most warmly 
engaged in the controversy. 

Many people shrink from the discussion of ab- 
stract (questions. Yet it is only by considering 
them that we can save ourselves from the mistake 
of Paul, that of being found vehemently engaged 
in active opposition to the very side which inwardly 
we most approve. In discussing abstract points, 
it is not at all necessary that we should renounce 
common sense and live upon unsubstantial visions. 
We certainly have enough in us, enough of 
manhood, enough of simplicity an<l sincerity, to 
enable us to di.>ceni, if wo will, the difference 
between the mere figments of a heated imagination, 


the drawn daggers of the aii-, marshalling us on 
to crime, and the actual paths of holy gTOund, 
where we must remove our shoes from our feet, 
worthily to stand there. We certainly have some 
tests of duty, some means of estimating the eoiu'se 
of actual safety ; and do not, in considering ab- 
stract questions of right, deal merely with mental 
jugglery, by the cunning of which we may so blind 
our ovm or others' minds, as to mistake nonentities 
for realities, or think impossible things successfully 

The late enactment of Congress, known as "the 
Fugitive Slave Law," has been defended at the 
North, and, indeed, was originally passed, so far as 
the votes of non-Slaveholders are concerned, simply 
upon the basis of an aljstract principle, namely : 
that consequences must be calculated, in deciding 
upon the authority of our inward impulses of 
justice. Xo one at the North pi-etends to justify 
the Law, — that is, no one in public, — that is, no 

man, who is supposed, or who pretends, to have 

IIIK LlllKinV UKLl.. 

regard to aiiytlilug sacred or real, — no such man. 
so fjir as we kuow, pretends to justify tlie Law, 
except upon the ground of the consequences appre- 
hended, shouUl we refuse to allow the South the 
existence of such a law ui)on the National Statute 
Book, — should we refuse to yield our beet 
endeavors to return to her authority certain 
travellers, who have long lived under her institu- 
tions, and who, at last, prefer institutions of the 
Northern States, or of Canada, and seek to make 
to themselves a home at the Nnrth. The most 
dire consequences have been supposed to be fore- 
seen. The disruption of the Union, — the end of 
the glory of ''time's noblest ofispring," — the 
final dissipation of the vision of a new dominion, 
that was to rival the British, Macedonian, Ass^'rian, 
or any that the world has known ; — civil war, \vith 
one knows not what horrors, nor how long-con- 
tinued ; — and evils to the Slaves, immeasurably 
worse than any Shivery, — perhaps extermination 
itself, — or rrimes and massacres performed by 


tliem, such tliat the heart shudders at the hai'e 

Well ; — it is not at all necessary that we should 
refuse to listen to any statement of consequences, 
which any careful and honest minds may attempt 
to set forth. Apparently the worst consequences 
will sometimes ensue upon the wisest conduct ; in 
attempting to pui'sue the course of wisdom, we are 
not required to be blind to the result. Sometimes, 
too, the thought of consequences may make us 
review the plan we had proposed, may lead to more 
careful consideration, may enable us, even, to 
discover that a wi'ong step had been taken in our 
process of reasoning, or an evil spuit had intruded 
its influences unawares into the motives of our 
conduct. Let us see the consequences as you see 
them. Let us see if it is our crime, that we over- 
look them, or your disease of vision that creates 
them. Let us see if the shadows will vanish, 
when a stout heart calls them to appear, or will 
come out of the darkness into broad day, and 

TIIK l.llUinV IlKl.l.. 

slmw tln'iii-cl\i.'s n."alitii's that laiui"! lit- hmm- 

IJut tlif main point in tli^^K^•u.s^)il>n .still is, 
whethur t»ur expectation of|uenees should be 
allowed to weigh more with us than natural senti- 
ments of justice. Even if it .-hoidd be sati.<fac- 
torily jtroved, to the common jnind, tliat the IJible 
allows the existence of Slavery, — still the question 
would occur wliat .shtdl wc do with the testimony of 
our natural sentiment of justice in regard to it ".' It 
is admitted that our natuial sentiments have in them 
something divine. The idea of justice is not the 
invention of the human mind ; it was not discovered 
at any assignable period, like galvanism or gravi- 
tation ; — it is not attributed to any great man as 
its inventor, nor has it grown up through the 
successive inventions and discoveries of many ages. 
Is a revelation by miracles divine '! So is the sense 
of justice also. If a man feels the motion of 
compassion in his heart, will it be sufficient to tell 
him, that it is but a prejudice of education or 


the result of human contrivances ? Or if the heart 
refuses the suggestions of impurity, through its 
own native delicacy, vrould it be sufficient to say 
that there is nothing divine, only a human fancy. 
in the sin-inking of the soul from sin V or if a man 
should be greatly troubled by remorse, could all 
the Acts of Congress in the world, or all argu- 
ments before Commissioners, avail to teach him 
that nothing spoke to him, but his own mind, 
nothing that demanded religious obedience, no 
voice of God, but of man alone ? But how is 
conscience divine, or chastity, or compassion, 
and not ju.?tice also ? Shall we pass a resolution, 
in Congress, that the Christian religion is a plain 
cheat, in its pretence of a divine origin ? Why not. 
as well as pass a law that calls upon any man to 
do an outrage to the sense of justice speaking in 
his heart, the voice of God dh'ecting his particular 
conduct ? And shall any view of consequences be 
held sufficient to make him disown his inward sense 
of justice, when the world would demand of hinr 


that lie slioulil not, iimfer iiny n'tir of co/ise- 
(/iieiirts, bo iiulucuil tu deny tin- name of Cliriat V 

IJut iin tlie other haml, there is iiotlun^ ilivine 
in our power of foretelling future event.-. In 
eoiLsiilering the conse(juenee.s of refusing assent to 
the Fugitive Slave IJill. we find that it is not 
through any divinely aeeredited messenger that 
the virion of them is opened before us. The veil 
of the future is said to be raised ; but hand 
lifts it'' No miraele has jiivceded, to assure us 
that it is a prophet's hand. No words of j)eeuliar 
wisdom, no featuro.s of peeuliar piety, no life of 
singular righteousness, have been presented to 
overcome the soul of the hearer and observer, and 
compel him to regard as divine the hand that 
points to the visions that are to eome. No : we 
have only assurances that those who foretell these 
consc-quences are men like ourselves, seeing with 
eyes such as we see with. — likely to make 
mistakes, or to be deluded by passion as we should 
bi'. Is this a prophecy, then? It is the word of 


a man, it may be of a fearful man. it may lie 
of a deluded man, it may bo of cue, who, not 
self-deluded, attempts to fasten delusions on i»;u- 
minds and drive us from the truth. It is not a man 
above us; — it maybe one immeasurably below. 
These considerations do not apply particularly to 
the present ease, the Fugitive Slave Law, and the 
consequences of refusing to enact it ; — they apply 
to every instance in which consequences are 
foretold and are presented as reasons for refusing 
obedience to the voice of the Divinity within. 

And still further. One of the most difficult 
undertakino-s in the world is that of foreseeino; the 
future, calculating from the present what events are 
to occur. The world of mankind is not a chemist's 
crucible or gallipot ; moral mixtures apparently 
the safest will explode, apparently the most hostile 
moral elements may be made to coalesce. What 
is the long history of striking occurrences in the 
world, but that of political chemists astounded at 
the results of their experiments'^ The Abolition- 

\- TIIK LIUKKTV IIKLL. aru cliargetl with igiiniaucu of liiiniun nature, 
with making tu<i little alluwaiiie fur huinaii ]ia:<.siuUB 
and ileteniiinatiuii.s. One wouUl .say that Metter- 
iiieh umler-stuud the wurkl well, — yet he is nut, at 
this time of writing, Prime Minister of Austria. 
One wuukl say that Louis Philippe understood the 
wurld. lie eouM make himself King, he euuld 
make money, beyond the world's most successful 
speculators or merchants, — yet he could not die 
King. One would say Napoleon was a wise man 
in his knowledge of mankind. He made all streams 
flow to turn his mill and grind his grist ; but a 
great gap broke through in his dam, and washed 
him and his mill away. Wiiere is the great usurper 
that has ever been a simple man ''. and how man}* 
great usurpers have founded dynasties, or died in 
enjoyment of their authority i The kaleido.scope 
is not more suri)assinL' stranjie in its chauo;es, 

loo o ' 

than tlie great worlil of nu-n, which some power 
turns outside and unseen ; and the great calcu- 
lators that fijiure awhile, are in a moment 


goue, uo one cau say whither, but never to appear 

And, again, if it were allowable to introduce the 
view of consequences in order to offset our natural 
sentiments, it would be proper to ask, what 
consequences shall we consider V tliose of to-day, 
or those of to-moiTOwV or to Avhat point of time, 
in the more distant futiu-e, shall we limit our view V 
There is uo end to consequences. Injustice 
triumphs for the day : — nay, the statesman makes 
it triumphant through all tlie long honors of his 
life. But the time comes, when the nation suffers 
frum the fruit of his doings. A'isibly or invisibly, 
earlier or later, the world admits, a retribution 
always takes place. It answers very well for 
some temporary purpose to say, that by this or 
that deed of inju:<tice certain evil consequences 
are averted. It seems very plausible to say that 
the preservation of the Union, the safety of the 
white and colored races, together, demand a Fugi- 
tive Slave Law. The proper reply is, it is never 

14 TUK l.lllKltTV IIKI.L. 

SAFK TO DO wiioNti 1 Tlieio i.> one evcrla.^tiiiji 
l:iw, — a.s u man sowotli, so wliall he al.>-o reap. It 
is vain to say that the seed is buried, that it is 
out of siglit, that it is so deep it can never ajtpear 
again. Injustice lias its rcsurreetion. The eonse- 
q^uence of the lairial may appear very well tonlay. 
Let us look and see what the fruit.s in autumn are. 
Consequences, let it be remembered, have no end, 
and in due time such as the act is the loum;- 
queuces will be. 

Again, let it lie considered that the plea of 
eonsequeuces, urged as it is at this present time 
as a necessary element of moral calculation, has 
always been urged, in every age, as the great plea 
for iisuqiation and oppression and for personal 
iniquity. One might well pause before using, ui 
order to counteract his moral sentiments, a plea 
whicli jastifies every wicked aetinn. "Whenever 
the world has fallen into trouble, forth steps some 
man of power, seizes the reins of government, puts 
to death a score or two, or a thousand or two of 


his fellow men, establishes a reigii of terror, — and 
this, too, with the profession of the purest motives, 
— to advance the cause of true liberty, to give 
the people safety for property, and life, and 
happiness. The Slaveholder, to say no more, 
closes the page of knowledge against his victim ; 
the conseciuences of knowledge are so dreadful m 
contemplate. The life of the dishonest man is 
founded upon his fear of the consequences of 
honesty. Our prisons are filled, not with men 
alone who have been diiven by passion, or betrayed 
by ignorance, into crime, but with men whose 
whole life has been the most careful consideration 
of the consequences of their conduct. That the 
consequences of an action are fearful, does this 
deter us ? If our government assumes this princi- 
ple as the justification of its conduct, and has no 
better, it ranks itself with all the usurpers and 
criminals of the world. 

But whatever other consequences may be avert- 
ed, through denial of our moral instincts, there are 


always mornl odnscMjUoncos, whuli cannot Ik- avoid- 
ed. If we a.>;.-<iuni' the j)k'a of coiisefiucuco.s as a 
justitieation of moral eonduct, let us understand 
that we leave out of ealeulation the greatest 
element of all. Sentunents of justice, we are all 
capable of. Xmie but the pure-minded and the 
etrong-hearted arc aide to calculate the moral 
consequences of their actions. The bad cannot 
see them. The worldly-wise have no eye for them. 
Politicians are not at all used to calculate them. 
Yet tlu-ough all the pages of history, sacred and 
profane, — see the constantly repeated lesson of 
moral corniption multiplying and ever multiplying, 
in compound ratio, as the result of evil deeds. 
Witli nations, as with individuals, when the course 
of corruption begins, it is too often the principle, 

" I am ill blood 
Stepped in so far, that, shoidd I wade no more, 
lletiu-niiif; were as tedious as go o'er." 

AVu have iiad a time, in this nation, of gi-eat 


raeu, greatly good. Wo have bad ouv Ijoast of a 
nation founded on liberty and vii'tue. But what 
an education are we giviiig to tlie futiu'e politicians 
of the country, when we point to national greatness 
as the present recompense of national crime I 

But, it is said, the calculation of conse- 
quences alone can save us from that fanaticism, 
which belongs often to the moral and relioious 
sentiments. There may be a danger of becoming 
fanatical ; but upon the whole, the world has 
suffered little from fanatics. And often the 
fanatics of one generation are the admitted saints 
of all after times. It is certainly easier to judge 
of the calmness and truth of one's own emotions, 
than to foretell future events. We may be 
deceived as to the futiu'e, but we can know oui- 
selves. The great and good men of the world, 
and the humble and pure men of the world, 
while humbly committiug the government of the 
world, after the exertion of then- own best endeav- 
ors, to its true great Governor, have easily 


learned whether they were obeying tlie everlasting 
laws of the universe, or were following fancies of 
tlieir own vanity, or were driven on by the fierce- 
ness of their own passions. They feel the pulse 
at tlieir wrists, and find it equable : they look at 
their tongues in tlie glass, and find them clean ; 
they examine their hearts, and find no perturbation, 
no uneleanuess there. But is there no fanaticism, 
on the other side ? Is there not a worldly fanati- 
cism, roused by unreal fears, by purposes, 
by all of evil hope that the world can inspire '! 
This is the fanaticism of which the age is in 
danger. It calculates con.sequenccs, but it calcu- 
lates only the nearest. It imagines visions, which 
have no foundation in reality, and which the calm- 
minded know to be unreal. It is a mad passion, 
in defence of some present and profitable state of 
things. It is better to believe in the safety of the 
unknown consequences, which, under the guidance 
of our moral sentiments will be brought about, 
than to fear those which worldly passion imagines. 


It is better to enthrone justice, and trust it to the 
uttermost. Justice is always safe. Who knows 
what is just ? It is a daily revelation. It is the 
daily message of the great Governor of the world 
to each of his subjects. 

Trenton, N. Y., September, 1851. 


^il)c Strife luitl) 5laiicnj. 

B Y E M M A >I I C II E I. I. . 

TiiosK who Would serve tliis lioly cause must prove 
The doubting spu-its, and with fearless love 
Of truth must follow where it leads ; turn 
From gentle words that soothe to "words that 

Must cry aloud and spare not. Sin must be 
Stripped of its veil of fine-spun casuistry. 
The man who holds his fellow-man in chains 
Must know himself as one the world disdains. 
There must be no disguise not e'en to please 
The dainty tastes of those who sit at ease 
In Zion, blind and dumb, except to cry, 
" Om- mi.ssion lies in silence — cliarity. 


"Send back the Slave. Let blood-liounds track 

his way. 
" With Boston's sons ' to heai* is to obey.' " 
Their charity is not, alas ! for those 
Who bear the stripes, but those who deal the 

Shame to the Pilgrim city ! She would be 
A bye-word and a living infamy. 
But for the righteous few whose hands shall raise 
Their country from the dust, to be the gaze 
Of futui'e ages, which may yet behold 
The power of virtue over that of gold. 

Bristol, England, September 15, 1851. 


vlfriian i}iuuMitor3. 


WiiETUEii the dlfierent varieties of the human 
species are equal in mental endowments, and 
whether they had a unity or divei-sity of origin are 
questions rather curiou.s than useful. Tu zoologists 
and theologians they have some .scientific and 
polemical interest ; but to moralists and philan- 
thr<ipists they are of no more unportance than 
whether the African lion is equal or superior to 
others of his kind. He is a lion and king of 
beasts, and that is enough. But his ncgi-o neigh- 
bors are nut hi.s subjects ; on tlie contnu-y they 
tame him and they command him, which proves 


that they are no beasts. If I kuew a race of 
monkies anxious to improve their faculties and 
elevate then* condition, I should consider the deske 
as parent of the capacity, and deem it a duty to 
encourage and aid them, — especially if they were 
oppressed and restrained Ijy several united tribes 
of brutes. Had Jocko the sense and spirit to ran 
away, and signify that he was tired of being rigged 
in a red jacket, cap, and feather like a man-slayer, 
and jumping about like the motley clown ; that he 
desu-ed knowledge and dislUced the idea of being 
limited all his life, like the degenerate Romans, to 
" panem et cux-enses; " who is there, not himself a 
brute, that would not help the poor fellow, and put 
him, if possible, in the way to accomplish his 
laudable desire. The obligation to impart is of 
the same nature and force as that to receive 
instruction. A message from on high may be 
rejected as innocently as the prayer of the meanest 
aspu-ant to the light of truth. 

In noting some inventions known or believed to 

w % 


have originated with Africans, guilty of the deepest 
dye, I have no intention of luiuLstering to that mor- 
bid feeling, (if it he not .something worse,) which 
demands of our colored brethren that they prove 
themselves demi-gods, as a condition of lieing 
admitted to be men I For manifest it is that they 
must 1)0 gifted with superhuman abilities to show 
themselves, under present circumstances, equal as 
a race to the whites. We reijuire them to com- 
mand our admiration before we condescend to give 
them justice. This is to apply, like some ancient 
tyrants, a test which is intended to be fatal. Om- 
treatment, as a nation and government, of colored 
Americans, has been scarcely less irrational or inhu- 
man than that of an Asiatic despot, who put out 
the eyes of certain of his subjects and then cut off 
their heads, alleging that they were of no worth 
without eyes. After twenty years of earnest 
appeal, argument and remonstrance, the Siime 
unreasoning and uin-ighteous spirit is rife ui a 
mighty majority of the men and women even of 


the Nortlioni States, men and women who pretend 
that they asph-c to be admitted to the society of 
the Son and the Angels of Grod I 

It was reported some years ago that Daniel 
Webster had made a searching examination of the 
C£uestion of colored equality, and would take occa- 
sion to state the result in a speech. From his not 
having done so, it may be conjectured that his 
com-ictions turned out to his wishes. 
Some may imagine that his recent course is a suffi- 
cient indication that his conclu.sions were unfavor- 
able to the colored race. But this would imply 
that he has been actuated by some principle, which 
nobody or next to nobody supposes. The utmost 
that appears to be claimed for him is, that he acted 
upon a larger and more complex calculation of 
interest, than au}^ democratic servitor of the Slave 
Power and Ijetraj-er of his constituents was ever 
capable of making. What can be fou'ly infen-ed 
from Webster's late action is, that he had satisfied 

his mind that his darker brethren were not likely 


very soon to have oflice, scrip, or [tension to bestow. 
But he \YouKl have cunio to a similar conelusion 
respecting Abolitionists or Free Soilers, if he hail 
bail umU-r his hand the heads of Garrison, Phillips 
ami Quinry, or, uliat in bis present temper would 
please bim mure than all the tlu'ee — the head of 
Horace Mann. Speaking of hea(bs recalls an 
anecdote of an eminent literary character of Boston, 
a sijmer of the M'ebstcr address. A Southerner 
paid him a visit, and on retiring remarked to the 
friend, who introduced him, tliat he had seen better 
heads than that sold for 8S0O at the South ! 
Those who woubl imcandidly elude the force of 
this testimony in favor of colored intellect, may 
say that good heads, not colored, have been sold 
there, time out of mind, and that wo have now 
seen so sold the finest head in New England ; a 
head, which Phidias would have placed on the 
shoulders of Jupiter, even the Olympian head of 
Daniel "Webster ; certainly not so cheap, but that 
was pwbably owing in part, if nut altogether, to 


the recommendatiou of Audovcr, for •' jjioiis 
Slaves " always command an extra price. 

Theodore Parker, in his Eulogy on John Quincy 
Adams, a discourse composed in a spirit which 
would render contemporary LiogTaphy something 
more digiiificd and profitable than the ordinary 
adulation of such occasions, assigns to the inventor 
the highest niche in the temple of fame. Milton. 
in his plea for the Liberty of Unlicensed Printing, 
maintains that a people, having " wherewithal to 
bestow upon the solidest and saiblimest poitits of 
controversy and new invention," afford both proof of 
the highest vigor and fertility of mind and promise 
of noble progress and a great destiny. The terms 
inventor and invention are used here in a sense 
larger than the popular meaning. He who con- 
trives and constructs an instrument for abridging, 
facilitating and expediting mechanical, manufac- 
turing, agricultural, or scientific processes, is aa 
inventor ; but not exclusively so, nor in the highest 
sense. He who finds out new laws or properties 

1:0 TllK LlllKUTV IIKI.I,. 

of matter nr iiiiml is an inventor. He who origin- 
ates laws ami institutions for the cstaMishment, 
l»reservation, or improvement of civil society is an 
inventor. He who finds out .shorter avenues to 
knowletljie and niethoils for its readier and wiiler 
diffusion is an inventor. He who add.s to dry 
historical facts new and stirrino; action, unlockinor 
latent motives, developing natural passion, aggi^an- 
dizing what is nolde, degrading wliat is base, and 
giving to the past the reality and vividness of the 
presftnt ; or who imagines and depicts worthy 
events with a natural train of inciilents, accessories, 
;ind circumstances, giving new lustre to truth, new 
sympathy and admiration to heroic virtue, new 
hon'or of corruption and crime, new force to con- 
science and .stimulus to duty, is an inventor and 
poet. Inventive genius is next in dignity ami 
impovtancc to creative power. Xext to the Creator 
is the man who finds out new properties, laws, 
relations, combinations, and uses of that which Is 

ArraCAX ina"entoks. 29 

created. He who is nearest tlic Creator is the 
greatest creature. 

The fii'st person in Europe who used and recom- 
mended cold water as a medicament, was Dr. 
Wright, of Edinburgh. He commenced the prac- 
tice of his profession in the navy, and was ulti- 
mately appointed fleet surgeon under Lord Nelson. 
During a portion of his life he practiced in the 
British West Indies. There he was led to this 
subject by the Maroons. These people, inhabiting 
the remotest and most inaccessible parts of the 
mountains, could not avail themselves of medical 
assistance from the towns and plantations. Aban- 
doned to their own resources, they had established, 
in cases of putrid and malignant fever, the great 
.adversary of life in that climate, the following 
practice, which they infonncd Dr. Wright was 
common in Africa. They took clay and cold water 
and worked them together until the mass was of 
the consistence of paste. With a thick coat of this 

oil Tin: LIUEUTY BKI.L. 

tlioy cnca.sed tlio patient fruni head to tout, except 
the nose and eyes. In tliis f-tate lie was .suffered 
to remain until the water was exhausted. The 
clay was then removetl and the patient washed with 
eidd water. The ap[ilioation was repeated at 
intervals until the disease was suhdued. This 
practiee was attended with siieh success as to im- 
press Dr. Wright with tlie imiiortance of the prin- 
ciple on which it was founded. He soon satisfied 
himself that the clay exercised no influence on the 
disease, and that it served simply as a vehicle of 
the water ; and, though very well chosen inasmuch 
as it takes more water, and retains it longer, than 
any otlicr permeaLle substance, still, as he was 
desirous of tiying the remedy as soon as he could 
find a willing subject, he sought to divest it of it» 
repulsive form, anticipating that the novelty and 
strangeness of the practice would create suffit-ient 
repugnance, without the additional disgust of being 
bedaubed all over with mud. Cold water being 
the active agent, he concluded that simple affusion 


thereof, continued for a sufficient time, and repeat- 
ed according to the exigencies of the case, would 
effect all that the remedy was capable of, and afford 
a sufficient test of its value. But in an extensive 
practice ho could find no patient who would consent 
to incur the risk of an experiment. At length he 
was embarked on a voyage to Europe and when 
some days at sea the ship-fever broke out on 
board. Several of the crew died after an illness 
of one or two days. The Doctor now thought that 
in the terror and despair caused by this sudden 
and dreadful mortality, he should find ample oppor- 
tunity for the trial he had so long sought. But 
not a sailor, proverbially reckless as sailors are, 
would give his consent. Finally the Doctor was 
himself taken down by the pestilence. But the 
calamity was attended by the consolation of having 
at last found a willing subject. He determined to 
try the negro remedy upon himself. Accordingly 
when the fever had become violent and was ap- 
proaching the crisis, he caused himself to be 


earned on deck envoluped in a blanket, and then 
in a state of nudity to be drenched with succcs.sive 
buckets of cold water drawn from the ocean. He 
was again wrapped in the blanket, and laid without 
removing it in liLs berth. In a short time a gentle 
perspiration ensued, and ho fell into a sound and 
refreshing sice}). On the following day there was 
a moderate access of fever, and cold ajfusiun was 
repeated. This completed the cure. In aliout 
thu-ty-six hours from the time of the attack he was 
re-established. Upon hLs amval m England he 
sent a memoir of the case to the London Medical 
Society. It was read in that learned body, and 
excited the greatest attention and surprise ; but it 
so alarmed professional priile and prejudice, and 
narrow selfish conservatism, that it was " placed 
on file," like letters to whig candidates inquiring 
their principles, and no further notice taken of it. 
This was about the year 1770. It did not see the 
light until some ten years after, when the author 
made a second voyage to England, and then pub- 


lished it himself. Dr. Cunie appears to have been 
the first medical writer who recognized the merit of 
the discovery. He inserted an account of it in his 
extensive work. It was soon after used with good 
effect in various parts of Europe, particularly in 
Italy and Germany ; and must be considered the 
germ of that gTeat and wide spreading system of 
healing disease, called Hydropathy. These facts 
were found in an interesting memoir of the life of 
Dr. Wright, and collection of his writings edited 
Ijy David Turnbull, Es(^. 

For some years after the battle of New Orleans, 
a report prevailed among the colored people of this 
country tliat Gen. Jackson's cotton-hale breastwork, 
which is credited to him as a surpassing stroke of 
genius, was suggested by one of their race, a 
native of Africa. Whether the fact were so or not 
I have never been able to ascertain. The report 
is so strange that it would require a rare effort of 
invention to raise it without jt foundation in truth. 
It derives some countenance from the followino- 


occurrence which took place at the siege of Diu 
some three ImntlreJ years ago. It is dorivei-l from 
the Portuguese account of the siege. Two di.stin- 
giiished warriors froui Ethiopia joined the besiegers. 
On one morning the besien;ed were astonished at 
beholding an extensive rampart of cotton hags 
erected in advance of the besiecnng lines. Don 
John do Castro, Vice-Roy of India, was the com- 
mander of Diu. He hail been caiTying on wars 
and making conquests in Asia for some twenty 
years ; and if he and the veterans under hhn were 
astonished at this species of fortification, we may 
conclude tluit it was not Asiatic, but African, and 
that the chiefs from Ethiopia were the authors of 

Mr. Hamilton, an English engineer, found at 
Meroe, the capital of ancient Ethiopia, specuuens 
of the arch, which he pronounces the earliest extant 
or on record ; and thinks that we owe the invention 
of this grand element of strength, beauty, and 
sublimity in architecture to the Ethiopians. 


Toussaiut I'Ouverture was as truly an iuyentor 
as Lycurgus, Numa Pompilius, or Solon. During 
tlie few years in which he governed Ilayti, by his 
wise legislation, his fertility in expedients, and the 
intelligence, vigor, and promptitude of his admin- 
istration, he renovated, "as if by magic," a coun- 
try demoralized by license and wasted by the hand 
of war. If we could see impartially, perhaps he 
would appear to be even superior to those ancient 
sages, because it was in quiet seclusion and pro- 
found peace that they conceived and framed their 
respective codes and institutions, vvhile he was in 
the focus of war, or struo-o-linc; through the clmos, 
which its devastations had left. They were of the 
highest rank, and accomplished in all the learning 
of their times ; he a self-taught Slave. 

The Colchians were the inventors of geographi- 
cal maps and charts, and the Colchians were a 
colony of negroes. I am aware that this statement 
has been controverted, but Herodotus, who travel- 
led to Colchis, affirms that they were black, and 

30 Tin: LlUKltTV UKLL. 

hud wuolly iK'uds. The fidelity and accuracy of the 
Father uf History, when he speaks of things within 
hi:5 own knowledge, have generally been continued 
1>3' the efforts made to impugn them. 

Facts, illustrative of the inventive eapacity of 
negro nifU, might he further accumulated from my 
limited and incidental observations, for I have not 
attempted a special investigation of the suliject. 
Some useful mechanical inventions in common use, 
from which however the inventors by reason of 
Slavery, prejudice and fraud have not derived 
the ap})ropriate honors and rewards, are said to 
have been made by colored men both bond and 

I shall be hap[iy if tliese few lines shall tend to 
establish in the minds of any of my countrymen, 
who suppose themselves to be of superior endow- 
ments, a conviction that these oppressed and 
despised children of the common Parent are sus- 
ceptible of high, if not equal improvement, and 
capable, under a free and full development of theii" 


faculties, of contributing in fair proportion to the 
improvement and happiness of mankind. 

West Newton, December. 1850. 


iui. i.iKi.Ki\ i;i.i.i. 


n V JOHN M R L E Y . 

Take courage, gentle hearts and wami ; 

Ye may not turn the Earth, yet still it turns ! 
Abide the bluster of the pitiless storm, 

True to the sacred fire that in you bums. 

Take courage, gentle hearts and bright ; 

Whose lamp is ever trimmed need not repine. 
Heed not the darkness, for ye bear a light 

Unquenched that shall forever shine. 


Take courage, gentle hearts and wise ; 

Though your poor Wisdom seem a very fool, 
Keep onward in your true and simple guise ; 

Ye need no cumbrous College to your School. 

Take courage, gentle hearts and fine ; 

Ye cannot take the soil of Earth on high : 
Steel chafed m sordid dust can brightly shine ; 

The soil of Earth but brightens for the sky ! 

Egerton, near Bolton le Moors, Lancashire. 

40 Tilt LlBKllTV liilLL. 

£'(!!sclar»agc ct Ics Qrtats-llnis. 


. . . On ne saurait parler cle I'esclavage sans 
reconnaitre en meme terns que son institution 
chez un pcuple est tout i\ la foLs une tache ot un 

La plaie existe aux Etats-Unis, ({ui Tout iu(;ue 
de leurs aieux. Dtija meme une partie cle I'Union 
est paiTcnue a s'affranchir de ce fleau. Tous les 
etats de la nouvelle Angleterre, New York, la 
Pennsylvanie, n' ont plus d' esclaves. * * * 


♦ » » * * 

Quand on considere le mouvement intellectuel 
qui agite le monde ; la reprobation qui flctrit 


resclavage clans I'opinion de tous les peuples ; les 
conqiietes rapides qu'ont dt'ja faites aus Etats- 
Unis les idees de liberte svir la servitude des noirs ; 
le progTes do I'af&anclussement qui sans cesse 
gagiie du Nord au Sud ; la necessite ou seront tot 
ou tard les etats Meridionaux de substituer le 
travail libre au travail des esclaves, sous peine 
d'etre inferieurs aux Etats du Nord : En presence 
de tous ces faits, il est impossible de ne pas prevoir 
une epoque plus ou moins rapprochee, a laf|uelle 
I'esclavage disparaitra tout a fait de rAmerique du 
Nord. * * * (1839.) 

Je crois fermement (et c'est chez moi une vielle 
conviction) que les Etats-Unis sont destines h 
devenir proehainement la plus riclie et la plus 
puissante nation du monde, comme ils en sont deja 
la plus beureuse. C'est assez dire que je crois a 
I'abolition procbaine de I'esclavage aux Etats-Unis. 
Un peuple ne saurait etre a la tete du monde 
Chretien qui est le monde civilise, sil conservait 


dans son sein une institutiun ijui est la negation 
memo du di-oit, de la Rcdigion, de la Liljcrte, 
c'cst 11 dire du tout cc ([ui fait la puissance et la 
grandeur des nations. 

Paris, Maw, 1S51. 


(^Ijc tinitcb States anb Slaucrn. 

BY M . D E B E A U M X T . 

It is impossible to speak of Slavery without at 
tbe same time recognizing the fact that its estab- 
lishment among a people is at once a stain and a 

The United States now suffer from this 
wound, having received it from their ancestors. 
Even now a part of the Union has succeeded in 
freeing itself from this scoui'ge. All the New 
England States, New York, Pennsylvania, hold 
Slaves no more. * * * (1835.) 


TVhen we consider the intellectual movement 
which agitates the world ; the reprobation with 


whicli tlio pulilic Opinion of all nations Ijlastts 
Slavery ; the rapid inroatls wliich the Iileas of 
Liberty have jilreaily made upon the servitude of 
the blacks ; the progi-ess of enfranchisement which 
is continually onward from the North to tlie South ; 
the necessity which will compel the Southern States 
sooner or later to substitute free labor for Slave 
labor, under penalty of being the inferiors of the 
Northern States ; in the presence of these facts, it 
is impossible not to foresee an epoch, nearer or 
more remote, when Slavery will utterly disappear 
from North America. * * * (1830.) 
« » » « » 

I am firmly convinced (and it is an old opinion 
of mine,) that the United States are destined to 
become, and that speedily, the richest and most 
powerful, as they are already the happiest, nation 
in the world. Tliis is equivalent to saying that I 
believe in the speedy abolition of Slavery in tlio 
United States. A people cannot be at the head of 
the Christian world (^ which is identical with the 


civilized world) if it cherishes in its bosom an 
institution which is the very abnegation of Law, of 
Religion, of Liberty ; in other words, of all that 
constitutes the power and grandeur of nations. 

Paris, March, 1851. 


^\]c C!>i-cat fcGtiiuxl. 

li Y W I L L I A M H . F f 11 N E S S . 

Jksus was once invited, with many other guests, 
by one of the chief Pharisees to an entertainment 
given, as it a2)pear>, on the Sabbath. The Phari- 
sees, by tlie way, pious as they were, seem from 
this cux-umstance to have had notions of the 
Sabbath, somewhat different from those that prevail 
among the religious of the present day. Here was 
quite a large social gathering on the Sabbath, a 
dinner party, made by a distinguished Pharisee ; 
and the Pharisees were the pattern saints of that 


But letting this go, although it is a cu'cumstauce 
well worth noting, let us mark what took place on 
the occasion. 

It is only natm-al to suppose that most of the 
guests came to the Phaiisee's house with a good 
deal of curiosity about the extraordinary man who 
was present and who had created such a gi-eat 

There was a great deal of talk at the time, and 
a great deal of feeling upon one exciting topic 
Every body's imagination was inflamed, expecta- 
tion was intensely excited, in regard to what was 
called " the kingdom of Heaven," then believed 
to be coming. We all know pretty well what was 
then popularly understood by this kingdom which 
so excited men's minds. It was a renovated con- 
dition of thmgs, to be established by the special 
agency of Heaven. A great prince was to appear, 
wise, holy, and invincible. He was to break in 
pieces the Gentile yoke, under which the nation 


bowed, ami exalt the deK-eiulants of Altraliaiii to 
ail unprecedented height of prosperity. 

Such was the vi.sion, wliich, in the depth <if their 
natiuiial humiliation, was floating before tlie inin<l.>; 
(if the people ; and the excitement it occa.sioned 
was not a little increased, first Ijy the startling cr}' 
which had come from the wilderness announcing 
the expected kingdom, and now bj' the appearance 
of this wonderful person from Nazareth, who was 
gf'ing all over the country proclaiming the same 
tidings. So wonderful was he, that people flocked 
in crowds to sec and hear him, some beginning to 
surmise that ho was himself the very leader that 
was looked for, notwithstanding the obscurity of 
bis origin, the plainness of his garb, and the entire 
alisonce of all the visible marks of that high office ; 
and all curious to bear what he had to say about 
the divine kingdom, whose coming he announced. 
But he talked of it in a very singular way ; 
nobody understood him. Nearly everythmg he 
had to tell, he told in the shape of some smiple 


story, which, even though not understood, was 

perceived to have a meaning which did not appear 

at the first hearing. And so curiosity was only the 

more stimuLited. 

At the table of the rich Pharisee, one of tlie 

company, full of the ho])e of the great kingdom, 

and anxious, possibly, to draw Jesus out, uttered 

an exclamation to the effect that, pleasant as was 

their feasting then, it would be happier far when 

the kingdom of Heaven should have come. Then 

under the glorious reign of the [Messiah it would 

be a happiness indeed ! " You think it will be a 

very happy thing, do j'ou ? " was the virtual reply 

of Jesus, "to feast under the new kingdom. Let 

me tell you what that kingdom is like. It is like 

a gi-and entertainment which a man made and to 

which he invited numerous guests. And when all 

was ready, he sent his servants to summon those 

who were invited. But, so far from considering it 

a privilege and pleasure, tliey all unanimously 

begged to be excused. They were too busy, they 


[)leailecl. they luul otlicr things to attend to, niid 
coukl not posi-ihly come. Upon rocuivnig these 
messages, the giver uf the feast Ijecauie indignant, 
aiul told his sen-ants to go out and brin"; in all the 
nuserable wietehes they could pick up in the 
streets, the poor, the lauie and the Idiud, and 
compel them to come in ; and he declared that not 
one of those who were invited should taste of his 

It is easy to picture to one's self the curious and 
perplexed looks which the company exchanged as 
they listened to this story. That the heavenly 
kingdom should he compared to a great feast — 
that they could all very readily understand. For 
the kingdom of ITeaven — was it not to abound iu 
siuuptuous apparel, and ample mansions, tmd in 
ever^-thing that could delight the heai't of man V 
But how those for whom the festival was partic- 
ularly prepared, for whom the kingdom was to 
come ■— how they could decline the great invitation 
and excuse themselves from accepting it — that 


tliey could not understand ; it was a perfect 

And yet the solution was close at band. The?e 
very persons wlio were listening to the man of 
Nazareth were unconscious witnesses and illustra- 
tions of the truth of the story. For them, 
descendants of Aljraham, possessors of the Ancient 
Law, believers in one God — the feast was specially 
designed. The advantages they possessed were 
their qualifications for it. They were the chosen 
guests. And now the servant of Him who had 
prepared the supper had come and was waiting 
their attendance. And so far from receiving the 
invitation joyfully, they were all excusing them- 
selves, or, what was worse, not so much as under- 
standing it. So occupied were they with their 
various employments, so devoted to their business, 
their families and their bargains, that they could 
not entertain the idea of quitting their comfortaljle 
places, then* lands, their oxen, and their wives to 
obey the bidding. They would not hearken to the 


voice whieli .suinmoiiL'il tliL-iu tu tlie glorious Fes- 
tival. And, iu aooonlancc with the parable, it 
was only the poorest ami most miserable, an<l they 
in a manner compelled by the extremity of 
their destitution and misery, it was only they, 
who were admitted to the Supper that was prepared. 
They entered and partook of the Heaven-appointed 
feast, — while the rich and the honorable, the lead- 
ing men of the nati(jn, with the great majority who 
were under theii- influence, remained without, 
engrossed with their vain cares, proving oxen, 
examining lands, marrying and giving in marriage, 
and not one of them tasted of the gi*eat Supper. 

And why was it so 'i ^Vhy was it that those 
who, from tlieir position and culture seemed to be 
the elect company, tlie invited guests, the very 
persons, who would be the first to (piit everything 
and crowd to the Feast, declined and evaded the 
invitation upon the most miserable pretexts ? 

The simple truth is they had conceived a false 
idea of the natiu'e of the coming kingdom, of the 


great Supper, of which they considered themselves 
the chosen guests. They were expectrog a feast 
indeed, but it was to be a feast for the senses. It 
was to feed the appetite for pomp. It was to flatter 
and gratify their national pride and ambition. It 
was to refine and multiply all the means of animal 
enjoyment. They looked for splendid robes and 
gorgeous chariots, and thrones, and a world of 
wealth and luxury. They fondly expected that 
the servant, who should come to announce that all 
was ready and invite their presence, would come 
emblazoned with the livery of office. With these 
expectations, how could they so much as recognize 
the servant of the great Host in the person who 
was telling them this story ? He was a poor, un- 
known man, from the despised country of Gralilee. 
from that meanest of all places, Nazareth. He 
was destitute of every external sign of authority ; 
so poor indeed that he had not a roof to cover his 
head. How could they possibly regard him and 

his pretensions but with contempt ? And what 

")4 TIIK I.IIIKUTY 1U:1.I,. 

was lie inviting tlit-ni to ".' To a feast ".' To a 
grand .Sapper 7 ^VIly, lie was of the jm orest of 
the poor himself, ami he taught the [leople not to 
oare alioiit what they .should eat ;ind drink and 
wherewithal they should he elothed. He repre- 
sented obloquy and jiersecutious as occasions of 
jnx'at gladness. He told those who were most 
favorably disposed towards him, that they 
make up their minds to suffer privation.s and a 
violent death. How could it ]<e hut that his invi- 
tations must repel them 't No wonder they begged 
to be excused. The wonder is that he found any 
to listen to him. Even the very poorest, we should 
have expected, would turn away from him. Some 
of these did hearken to him, however, and became 
bis fast friends, accepting his invitation to the gix-at 
Supper that was made ready. But even, like 
the poor, the hime and the Idiiid, in the parable, 
•were compelled, driven to listen to him by their 
extreme destitution, driven to .set down at the 
Feast. They too .shared in the universal idea that 


the proniLsed kingdom was a condition of great 
wealth and external magnificeuce. Still, so 
wretched were they, so greatly needy, so conscious 
of their need, that lliey were forced to listen to the 
man of Nazareth, and there was that in his voice 
and in his look that fixed their attention and went 
straight to their hearts. And l>y and by they 
found, especially the simple-minded few who 
attached themselves to him most devotedly, that 
it was indeed a feast to which he had called them. 
It is tnie, they were soon involved in distresses 
great and manifold. They were despised and 
liated by everybody. They hungered and thirsted, 
and it was a bold thing for any one to compassion- 
ate them so much as to give them a cup of cold 
water. They were hunted from place to place, 
made all manner of game of, and they perished 
miserably. But, notwithstanding all this, they 
were partaking all the while of a very feast of the 
angels. They were nouinshed and exhilarated with 
imperishable food. Though no man brought them 



auglit to cat, tlicy had food wliicli tlie WoiM knew 
not of, and iif wli'uh it could ii<»t nA) tliL-iu. They 
became aware, luiserable as their outward estate 
Was, tliat it was with them as if they were seated 
at a great festival, with patriarchs and saints, and 
the great Master of the feast. They tasted a 
divine joy. They possessed a peace that eye could 
not see nor heart imagine, but it was revealed unto 
them in the spirit ; and it is manifested unto us in 
the immortal words of gladness and triumph which 
fill those Inief writings of theu-s that have been 
handed down to us. The dungeons into which 
they wore thrown echoed with their songs ; and 
they exulted in the sufferings by means of which 
they became partakers of so gi-eat a joy. 

And what was it that so fed and refreshed them '! 
"\Miat was it that made them willing to relinquish 
the cherished comforts of life and become objects 
of public contempt and violence '! Wliat was it 
that repaid them a thousand fold for all their 
privations V It was no unintelligible enthusiasm, 


no visionary Lope. It was that wliicb every man, 
if not by the conscious possession of it in some 
degree, yet by the want of it, knows to be the most 
substantial satisfaction of whicli the being of man 
is capalile, — the vivid and loving perception of 
truth at once the grandest and the most simple, 
the recognition of the supremacy of Eight, a con- 
scious love of God and man, so fervent that all 
concern for what the world could give or inflict was 
consumed in the divine flame. Amidst all their 
troubles, though their steps were dogged by Inse- 
curity, Alarm and Death, these true men were 
inwardly partakers of the great Festival of Truth 
and Humanity. They were no men of education 
or genius. They had neither money nor rank. 
They were nothing, nothing good in the eyes of the 
world, poor, ignorant fanatics, firebrands, turning 
the world upside down, unsettling all things with 
their pestilent and impracticable abstractions. 
They broached no mysterious dogmas. They ob- 
served no fantastic rites. They wore no strange 

5S TiiK i.iukrty bkll. 

costume. Thoy used no peculiar pliraseology. 
But, maintaining simple principles to which 
the universal conscience of mankind assents the 
instant they arc declarecl, and which had never 
found so full and commanding an expression as in 
him whom they followed, living by those principles 
and suffering for them in contempt of the world's 
practices and laws, thoy found in the tnath for 
which they were defamed, an abundant over- 
payment, a triumphant strength, an inexhaustible 

So abundantly were they strengthened, such 
delight had they in serving God and their fellow- 
man, who, as God knows, needed help and still 
needs it, that it was with them as if they were 
sharing in a magnificent festival, in company with 
the sainted servants of Truth of all ages and coun- 
tries. yes, in the very midst of all their pains 
and perils, they entered into a divine kingdom. 
Their spirit.s were arrayed in robes of sjdendor, 
fitting a royal presence. Their inmost sense was 


ravished with the seraphic harmonies of Truth and 
Eighteousness. They fed upon the bread of 
Heaven. Their souls moimted within them as in 
chariots of flame above the savage uproar of blood- 
thirsty mobs. Thus they partook of the great 

But the rich and wise, who had been so particu- 
larly invited, invited by then- education and by all 
those advantages, which, as we should natui-ally 
think, must have prepared them to recognise the 
servant of Truth when he came, and to accept his 
invitations — they would not listen. They lingered 
and lived and passed away, walking in a vam show, 
subsisting or trying to subsist on the decaying and 
decayed husks of the world's conventionalities, 
wandering on to the grave amidst graves and the 
weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth of 
disappointed hopes and guilty passions, and all the 
misery that abounds where phantoms are honored 
and realities despised. They were in high condi- 
tion, it may be, as the world goes, (but how it 


goes I with wliat nip'ulity, and wliat w ri'tflR'il wear 
ami tear of litV- I ) Imt at bc-t their ha|)[) was a 
tliiu vapor, jril'lfd by a passing gleam of light. 
Not one of them entered the true kingdom. Not 
one of them, witli all their wealth and honors, 
tasted of the great Sujiper. 

And now has their ease no parallel at the present 
day ".'' Has the story of the great Sapper no mean- 
ing for us, to which, if there be aught in life to 
interest us, we may well give our instant attention Y 
Or rather, has it not at this very hour a significance 
as full and as pointed as when it was first told? 
Are not we, evidently, in our unparalleled position, 
by the teeming civilization of the age, by our rare 
civil and religious liberties, by all the means which 
we possess of attaining to a nobler manner of 
living — nay, are we not by oiu- very nature which 
apprehends the sacred Law of Justice, which 
trembles and glories in sympathy with the wTonged, 
which reverses what is true and hates what is false 
' — are we not directly bidden to the great Supper, 


invited guests to the divine Festival of Trutli, of 
Freedom and of Humanity, where we may sit 
down in the enjoyment of an immortal pleasure 
with the august company of those who have lived 
and died for God's laws and man's deliverance ? 
And are not the servants of the great Master of the 
Feast abroad, proclaiming tliat all things are now 
I'eady and summoning us to his presence and his 
table i The Supper, abounding in more than 
ambrosial sustenance, in that nourishment of 
which when we once partake we shall never hun- 
ger or thirst more, is waiting for us. The invitation 
is ringing in our ears, not indeed from the lips of 
the honorable and mighty. It comes not, whence 
we look for it to come, from men clad in the 
authority of office, from Senators and Secretaries 
and Presidents ; but it comes, as it came of old. 
from the unknown, from those whom the many 
regard with contempt, and for whom they can find 
no name sufficiently opprobrious, and whose pres- 
ence is a sig-ual for popular commotion. It speaks 


in events, in the linite ignorance and violated 
rights of Guil-created men, in tlie dumb agonies 
or the ganping cry of the poor Fugitive, panting for 
secure liberty, and fleeing from an aecursed, soul- 
destroying bondage. 

As the descendants of Abraham in the time of 
Jesus were invited by him to the great Feast of and Love, prepared by God from 
the foundation of the world, .so is the same invita- 
tion given to us at this veiy day. Hundreds of 
earnest voices plead with us. p]vents spetik. And 
with one consent we are tiying to make excuse. 
How many are engrossed with their merchandise. 
It perils their profits and their custom, even 
to think of heeding the summons to the Festival 
I if Freedom and Humanity. Others again, (and 
wliat a multitude I) have wives and children and 
friends, and they cannot bear the idea of the 
divisions aud the odium they must incur, and 
therefore they cannot come. And there are othei-s, 
with whom those frail devices of human wisdom. 


tlie Union and the Constitution have become as 
God, occupying the same place, invested with the 
same sanctity that was attributed to their Temple 
by the Jews, who absolved children from their 
duty to their parents if they would only appropriate 
to the Temple what theii' parents might need for 
their support ; — thus making vain an eternal law 
of Grod. And yet others do, as, no doubt, did 
multitudes in the days of Christ, they follow the 
multitude. They ask, as was asked of old, have 
any of our rulers or doctors learned in the law and 
in divinity accepted this invitation ? They follow 
the lead of those who, they confess at the same 
time, are struggling for office and power. Under 
cover of such high authorities, they would fain 
satisfy themselves that they have nothing to do 
with the wi'ongs of then' enslaved and hunted 
brother but to obey the laws which men make to 
perpetuate and increase his wrongs, to leave him 
in his wretchedness and in the respectable 


conipaiiy ot" Priests ami Levitos )ias> liy on the 
otlior side. 

Wl- may make these excuses a.s ofttn and as 
lonsr as wo idease. But, as God livetli, it is to our 
own ineparable loss. Be entreated. Ponder tlie 
solemn words : " Not one of those men who were 
liidden shall taste of my Supper." " They may 
have their own banquetings and jubilees and fill 
themselves with the food which comcth out of the 
earth, and feed their souls with all manner of high- 
.sounding and lying words, if they can, Ijut my 
Supper, the immorttd feast of Truth and Liberty, 
the bread that cometh down from Heaven — they 
shall not touch." we are not here on Clod's 
earth merely to go fa.shionably arrayed and to be 
well housed and fed, and to get the repute of wealth, 
but for things infinitely Itetter ; to be true, to be 
just, to serve Truth and llight and Humanity at 
every sacrifice, except of Truth and Humanity. 
And when we put away from us the simple claims 


of Justice and persuade ourselves that they are 
none of our business, -wo put away from us our 
owu most dear life. We refuse to partake of that 
eternal Llessedness, that great Supper, of which 
we are, by our very natm-e, the bidden guests. 
We lock and bar ourselves out from the good of 

When once the master of the Feast has risen 
and shut to the door, and we begin to stand with- 
out, crying, Lord, Lord, open unto us, then will 
he say to us, "I do not know you. Go away, ye 
enactors and upholders of inicjuity ! For I was a 
Slave and ye took no pity on me. I was a fugitive 
from the house of bondage and ye drove me back." 
And then shall we say unto him, When saw we 
thee a fugitive or a Slave and did not minister 
inito thee? And then will he answer: "Inas- 
much as ye did it not to the least of these my 
brothers, ye did it not to me." x\nd there is 

no law of man, no Union liowcver glorious, no 


Coustitutiou, though it were ever so wise, that can 
V)e pleaded iu antst of the awful judgiueut of 

PbiUkUelpliia, Septeuber, I80I. 


^l)c :?luto9ra]3l} of Sims. 


What moving sight my vision dims '? 
Thy Autograph, injured Sims, 
Traced by thy hand. That will of thine 
Grained in three hours the art divine. 
Two words — and those a prisoner's name, 
Yet damning to undying shame 
The men, the covmtry, who could dare 
Shut up that soul in deep despair. 
Two little words, — yet theirs the power 
Back on the heart to roll the Hour, 
The Agony, the Passion-night 
Of Freedom in her war for right. 

G8 TIIK I-lltKKTY IlKLl-. 

Deur boiiglit IIl'U'.s triumph at that time 
When, piiiionoil like a Son of Crime, 
Dark Juihis drave his Lord along 
'Mid the vile rabble's jeering song. 
Dear bought the Judas of this day 
Attains his transitory sway, 
His hooting minions trampling down 
The Higher Law — the Godhead's cruwn. 
For He who sits ujxm the Heaven 
Hath to His Christ the victorj' given, 
"Who conies in saving strength ere long 
To raise the weak, to o'ertlirow the strong. 
True hearts even ere that hour is come. 
Though sufi'ering even to martyrdom, 
Are never vanquished, but they grow* 
More and more bold with every blow. 
The martjT to his stake will bear 
Heart-glory in his heavenly air, 
And prophet-hymns of triumph-days 
Burst from his lips while faggots blaze. 


Ob, Sims ! even on that dreary morn, 

When tliou and Freedom overborne, 

Bad men and tlie infernal host 

Guarded thee to our treacherous coast, 

Thy fettered feet pressing the shore 

Cursed by thy anguish evermore. 

Even then though tears thy dark cheek dewed, 

The Soul within was unsubdued. 

When in the Slave-ship, midst their hate, 

Abjects, with petty power elate. 

Insult thy solitary tears 

With their low taunts and bitter jeers. 

When, the swift, cruel voyage o'er. 

The cursed craft drew near the shore, 

And thy near doom so jiressed thee down, — 

The jail, the master's threatening frown, 

Presagino; all his torturino- art 

Would do to break thy noljle heart, — 

Even then to bless thy humble prayers 

A joy is thine no tyrant shares ; 


Thu L'xultaut and tiiuiuphaut suul 

Uphold of Heaven mocks mau's coiitiul. 

This nuide tlieo bear the scoiirgo so long, 

Yet ne'er confess thy flight was wrong ; 

Thi^ is the cause why yet we hoar 

Of tliy strong Faith which mucks at fear ; 

This leads thee on, oh, truly free, 

To work thy glorious Destiny, 

And hallows to heroic hymns 

Thy Autograph, the name of Sims. 

Newport, R. I., September, 1851. 


illorc lllarsaius tijan (Due. 


The children of Madame Szitelma were told, 
one day, that they might have a holiday for the 
whole morning. They might go into the Park a.5 
early a? they pleased, and stay there till their 
mother should call them in to dinner. Such a 
thing had never happened before as then- going 
into the Park before saying theu' lessons ; Init 
to-day, there were to be no lessons. It was some 
way round to get into the Park by the gate ; but 
one green corner stretched up to the back of the 
Szitelma's house ; and in this green corner, under 
the shade of the trees, the clTildren were to play, 

72 TIIK l.lllKKTV IlKLI.. 

wIuIl- their uiuther looked down upon them from 
the whidow where slie sat at work. It was capital 
fun. I'elava rolled her little brother SigLsmund iu 
the grass ; and Terej^a hid Itehind the tree.s, and 
ran .so fast when .she was seen, that it was very 
difficult to catch her. When they were hungry 
and thirsty, then- mother let down from the window 
a bottle full of milk and water, and a Inisket, with 
some bread and cakes. A\'hen, at la.'-t, they were 
tired, and wished to come home, their mother 
desired them not to come till she sent for them, 
and advised them to lie down under a tree and rest. 
^Tien Sigismund had been asleep, and was awake 
again, he saw his father nodding from the window ; 
and then the children were told that they might 
come home if they liked, and their mother would 
go round and meet them at the gate. 

The rea.son for this strange holiday was a very 
serious one. A meeting of several of the gentle- 
men of NVar.saw was hold that morning in Szitelma's 
bouse, to consult about the apj)roaehing rising of 


the Folcs against Russia. It was necessary that 
the chiklren should not know that any visitors were 
at the house that day. W^ien the parents met the 
children at the Park gate, and Szitclnia carried his 
tired l.ioy home, they looked as happy a little family 
as could be seen. But the fact was, there were no 
happy families in Warsaw in those days. The 
Russian residents were afraid of the silent, cool- 
mannered Poles, with whom they could obtain no 
friendly intercourse ; and no Pole, wlio had wife 
and children, could endure to look forward to the 
spoiling of their lives by Russian tyranny. As 
these parents led their childi'cn home, their hearts 
were full of care ; — care relieved only liy the 
spu'it of high deteinnination with which they had 
made up then- minds to risk everything, to throw 
off the yoke. 

The Emperor Alexander was not satisfied that 
all was well at Warsaw ; and he sent his brother, 

<4 TiiK i.iRKirrv nKi.r.. 

tlic <rrand Duko ConstantiiiL', to sec about it. 
Miulanie Sziteliua sluiddcrcd wIh-m slio lioanl that 
he was coming ; but tlie news kindled a strange 
light in her husband's eyes. As for the children, 
they were not allowed to go to the windows when 
the Russian Prince went by, in gi-and procession ; 
and they never once entered the Park while he was 
in Warsaw. They scarcely saw their father for 
many days. His uniform was hardly off his back, 
day or night ; fur he, like other officers, was 
hara.s.sed with duty. They were paradcil all day ; 
and some duty or another was found fir them 
almost every night ; so tliat, before ten days were 
over, Szitelma was looking haggard, and at times 
very fierce ; and speaking in a voice, which 
had lost its cheerfulness of tone. 

One day, a friend called on Madame Szitelma, 
to prepare her for- misfortune. The Grand Duke 
was in a desjieratc ill-humor that morning ; and he 
had been reprimanding Szitelma for some alleged 
slowness of movement on parade. Tliere was 


something in the tone in which the tyrant had 
said that he had not done with that ofl&cer yet, 
which assiu'ed those who heard him that mischief 
was impending ; and a friend came at once to 
3Iadame Szitelma, to advise her to be ready 
with whatever influence she could command o)i 
her husband's behalf. Before she could collect 
her thoughts, another bearer of evil tidings 
arrived. At the conclusion of the parade, the 
Prince had ordered a portion of the regiment to 
pile their bayonets. The bayonets were piled 
with their points uppermost, forming a pyramid. 
The Prince measured the height with his eye, 
ordered the pyramid to be raised a foot ; called out 
Szitelma, bade him mount his horse, and informed 
him that he was to leap the piled bayonets. 
Several ofl&cers at the same moment declared it to 
be impossible. The Prince said he w"Ould see that. 
To refuse was certain death. To ol^ey was almost 
certain death. The horse understood the peril ; 
and he carried himself and his rider over. "When 


thoy uroso tVuiii the plunge, the aiiiiual was trem- 
bling in every luuscle, and his rider was pale as 
death. The disappointed I'riiice urdered that the 
thing shuiild lie dune again. A few niurnuir.s 
arose ; but there was no help. Contrary to all 
c.vpeotation, the cleared the bayonets a 
second time. The Prince was furiou.s, and repeat- 
ed his order, eonnnanding the bayonets to be raised 
a foot. When there was a third escape, and then 
a fourth, the spectators became superstitious; and 
their whispers about a special protection were .so 
loud, and were accompanied by .such looks at the 
Prince that he was obliged to restrain his fury for 
the moment. lie desii-ed Szitelma to appear 
before him ; but Szitelma had fainted away. lie 
was carried out of the Sipiare, — carried by 
Ilu.ssians. And this was the time that 
Szitelma was ever seen in Warsaw. All night, 
and for many succeeding days, his wife wandered 
from ])Uiee to place, seeking tidings of him, and 
obtaining none. Sometimes she went home, deter- 


mined to sit still there tUl some frieud should come 
with hope or despau- upon his lips ; but her restless 
misery di'ove her forth again and she never slept 
but by snatches till Constantino and his stfiff were 
gone, to report to the Emperor that Order reigned 
at "Warsaw. The only thing then to be done was 
to prepare memorials for presentation to the Em- 
peror. Before these could be sent, the Polish 
revolution broke out, and 3Iadame Szitelma was 
not the only one who, with a breaking heart, was 
compelled to wait. Her friends wished she could 
have shared then persuasion, that her husband was 
dead. She could then have thrown herself into 
the cause, heart and hand, and have found occupa- 
tion and solace in fearlessly working on the side 
which her husband had taken in the tremendous 
quarrel. But she could not believe that he was 
dead ; and she could not do anything which must 
ensui'e his destruction, if he yet lived. She 
secretly gave what money she had to the revolu- 
tionary cause ; but she shut herself up at home 

78 THK I.lllKllTY UKLL. 

with her cliildreii, — whore 8igi.-:mimil w.i- \>ij 
apt to cry fur papa, becauyo ho wanted to ride 
papa's cane, and the little girls were perpetually 
recurring to the ha[»py days when niamuia never 
cried, and when they niiglit look out of the 
windows, and play in the Park whenever they 

The Revolution was nver, after some months, 
and In irror reigned in AVarsaw, — a liorror which it 
can do no gooil to describe. One evening, a large 
wagon, such as was too often seen in the streets at 
that time, came .sluwly along the street in which 
the Szitelmas lived, .stopping at three doors, and 
going on again, and then stopping at theh-s. 
A Russian officer came in, and demanded the chil- 
dren. It was not a scene to be dwelt upon. Tlie 
children were taken by force, and put int<t the 
wagon. It was not pretended that their mother 
would ever see them tigain. They were to be 


taken to llussia, to be Lrouglit up, ■ — the boy as a 
common soldier, and the girls probably as peasants' 
wives. They were to be taught their duty to the 
Emperor, — that is, theii* one piece of learning was 
to be that celebrated catechism of the Greek 
church, in which the Emperor is ranked with God 
as an object of actual worship. The life of a 
Kussian soldier is one of unmitigated misery ; and 
of all blasphemy, that of worshipping the Emperor 
of Russia was most abhorrent to a Pole. Yet 
Madame Szitelma did not die, even of this esces- 
sive woe. There was some hope in her heart, — 
hope that her husl)aud was living, and that she 
might by some means reach him, — hope that 
Poland would yet arise, before her children were 
too old for rescue. All whom she knew told her 
that Poland would yet arise ; and that she must 
endeavor to live to sec that day. 

By this time, it was Nicholas that was reigning. 
Alexander was dead, and Constantine had been 
put aside, as too brutal for even the throne of 

80 Tin; LIIIKKTV uki.i,. 

Ka-^.-*i;i. At Warsiiw, it seemeil that tliere was 
little fliuice. Coustautine cmuM lianlly have (loiiu 
worse than Nicholas iVkI when his spies iufunneJ 
hiiii that Mailaiiie S/.iteliiia aud another wretched 
mother had conspired to obtain means of connnuni- 
cation flith their children. He did not know, or 
he would have caused the mother to Lc informed, 
that two of her children had sunk under the hard- 
ships of the joui-ney, and had been thrown out of 
the wagon, to die by the road side. The ntimcs of 
the children were dropped from the moment they 
left theii- parents' doors ; and they were known by 
numbers only till they could be baptized by llus- 
siau names, on reaching their destination. So no 
one knew which of the little creatuies died, and 
which survived ; and Madame Szitelma was never 
aware that Pelava had become her only child. 
She aud her friend were sentenced for their " con- 
spuaey " to be flogged at the cart's tail, m one of 
the Squares at Warsaw : aud there they were 
flogged. The residents closed theii- shutters, — 


closed their ears, — tried, in their ngony, to close 
their hearts ; but tlie echoes of that lash were 
heard in London, and in the cities of Italy and 

Still, the feeble creature did not die. The 
Emperor had still something more for her to do. 
He signed an order l)y -which sis hundred ladies of 
Warsaw were drafted off, to be sent to the Chinese 
frontier, as wives for the common soldiers, and of 
these six himdrod, Madame Szitelma was one. 
There was now nothing for her to do at home, in 
bringing up subjects for the Emperor ; and it was 
not politic to leave her for a spectacle in the midst 
of Warsaw. 

Wliat a dispersion it was then ! Among the 
Siberian snows, where black pine woods, and the 
depths of the mines alone afford shelter from the 
freezing storms and fatal drifts of winter, lived 
(and perhaps still lives) the father of that once 
happy looking household. He knows nothing of 
human affair's beyond the hamlet where he and his 


TIIK l.lltKltTV ItKLL. 

tuUuw exiles live and toil. lie has heard uf no 
revulutiiins, in> deaths of S)Verei<5;iis, no hopes for 
the World in whieh he has found so hard a lot. 
But for hi.s mental resources, he must have been 
dead long ago. As it is, he lives on thought, and 
on the hope whieh is the legitimate offspring of 
thought. In a wood by the road-side in Kussia, 
lie the bone.> of Teresa !iud Sigisnmnd, — hidden 
away from human knowledge. Almost as truly 
hidden away is Pelava, — in her coarse dre.-s, with 
her cropped hair, and her badge, and her life full 
of coarse occupations, intended to stifle thought 
and a.-piration. If, however, she has learned 
nothing, she has forgotten nothing. The sunny 
mornings at home by the mother's knee, the sweet 
voice which taught the lessons, the green corner in 
the Park, the bottle of milk let down from the 
window, the harp-nmsic heard in tlie evenings 
when she was in bed, — all the.<e things and many 
more, Pelava reinemlters, as the scenes of a former 
life in jiaradi.-e. Will she retain them for life V 


Lastly, there is an unmarked grave in Asia, on 
the frontier between the Chinese and Russian do- 
minions. There Madame Szitolma hved for a few 
months. She was assigned to a peasant soldier for 
a wife ; but he took pity on her. He saw she was 
dying. They could not converse — having no 
common language — but he saw enougli of her 
story ; that she was a lady ; that she was unhap- 
py ; and, it was clear, had l^een a mother. She 
lived in silence. She saw Tartar faces, and heard 
only chatter that she did not understand. She 
witnessed brutal military discipline, and smelled 
spirits all the twenty-four hours round. But she 
feared nothing. She was past fear. She baked 
the black bread as long as she could stand ; and 
mended the coarse clothes as long as she could see 
to set a stitch. She lived in the past, and in that 
realm of thought where her husband was at the 
same time finding his home. In the midst of these 
abstractions, she one day fell asleep unawares ; 
and when her master returned from parade, he 


tViuuil her, ( a uiere case <if Ijoiies) lying at length 
upon the sainl. lie had her decently hiiil beneath 
it, and covered the spot with stones, for fear of the 

Do our nerves ache at this story V Does our 
lilood boil ■' Do we long to snatch Warsaw from 
the tyrant, and make a new '■ order" reign there V 
Let i\s think whether there be not another Warsaw, 
more within om* jjower ; — whether the European 
Warsaw is the only one where men are kidnajtped 
and transported, and children are snatched from 
their parents, and women flogged, and assigned to 
a new lmsl)and at the pleasure of a ruler tmd 
master. Let us work for a new order of affairs in 
every Warsaw, — whether of the old world or the 
new ; for the present is not to be endured, whether 
in the East or in the 

Ambleside, May, ISiJl. 


(Jjftvaits i)cs Souucnirs }3olUiquc0. 

PAR M . A R A G , 

Ancien membrc du Ciouvernemeut provisoirc et Ministre de la 

* * Je regrettai beaucoup de no pouvoir 
dans ces premiers moments m' eelairer des avis 
d'un homme qui avait noLlcment consacre sa vie a 
la classe desheritee des negres, qui avait fait de ses 
besoins, de ses tendances, de scs moeurs, I'etude 
la plus profonde, et qui mieux est, 1' etude la plus 
d(^sinteresse ; mais il etait absent. Son zele ardent 
r avait porta a aller au Senegal examiner la condi- 
tion des captifs ; il ne fut de retour a Paris que le 

3 Mars. Dans un entretien que nous eumes 


Liisemble ce ineine juur, M. .Schoelclier lue pibuva 
(lii'il fallait aljsoluinent reveiiir ji 1' kk'e de 
rt-manoipiition iminediatc ; il nie dc'montra quo la 
phrase sontinu'iitak- iju'uu lisait a la tin lU' lua 
k'ttre aux guuverneiu-s de nos colonies iic satisfcrait 
imllement los noil's ; que la promesse vague qu' 
I'Ue eontcnait lour paraitrait un lourre ct (jue 
definitivement lis clicrclicraicnt h prendre pai- la 
force ce qu'on aurait du leur accorder de bonne 

Los arguments do M. Schoelcbor porterent une 
entiere conviction dans mon esprit et je resolus de 
presenter ii mes collogues un decret d'emancipa- 
tion immodiato. Je me proposal en meme terns de 
faire cboix de 31. Schoeloher avec le titre de Sous- 
Secretaire d' Etat, pour m' aider dans la grande 
(ouvre de l' abolition et de composer une commis- 
sion dunt je donnerais la prosidence ii cet eminent 
pliilanthrope, commission qui serait chargoe de 
rodigor tous los roglemonts que le regime do la 
liberte remb-ait indispensables. 


L 'ensemble de ces dispositions projetees fut 
porte par moi le 4 Mars au gouvernement provis- 
oire Oil j'obtins, non sans ecliapper de la part de 
quelques ims aa reproclie de precipitation et a la 
qualification de casse-cou, la signature du Decret 
dont la teneur suit :, 4 Mars, 1848. 

Au nom du peuple franca is : 

Le Gouvernement Provisoire de la Republique, 
considerant que nuUe terre Frangaise ne peut plus 
porter d'esclaves, decrete : 

Une commission est instituce aiipres du INIinistre 
de la Mai'iue et des Colonies pom* preparer dans le 
plus bref delai 1' acte d'emancipation immediate 
dans toutes les colonies de la Eepublique. 

Les membres du Grouvernement Provisoire. 

On a dit que le Gouvernement Provisoii-e n' avait 
pas eu le droit de prononcer I'abolition immediate 

S8 TIIK I.lllKUTV 1!K1,I,.- 

da V fsclavage : le fait iie pent etro conteste si 1' 
oil VL'Ut parler du diuit .strict, iiiais ce guuvcrne- 
ment, nu ile la UL'tessiti'-, avail iles devoirs a loiii- 
plir, et qui ost-rait .^nutL-iiir qu'au iioiiil»re dc ces 
deviiirs Il's plus iiii|n_'rioux ne devait pa.s figmer en 
premiere ligno 1' adoption de iiiesiu-es propres a 
preserver la vie, la prM])riete des colons ; ;i les 
soustraire a la torche ineeudiaire, aruie ordinaire 
des negi'es exasperes par plus d' uu siecle de traite- 
niens barbares et inliumains. Si, connne je lo 
erois, le deeret du 4 3Iars a contribue a faire 
obtenir ce resultat, je rae felicitenu toute nia vie 
d'eu avoir etc le prouiotcur. 

On a park- de la ruine i|ue 1' acte d'eniancipa- 
tion a repandue sur toutes uos colonies : Je reponds 
.^ue garantir la vie des colons a etc ct devait etre 
notre premiere preoccu})ation. A-t-on rcuiar(|ue 
d' ailleui-s (jue la Martini(|ue, la Guadeloupe, 
etc., etaient dans un etat connncrcial deplor- 
able longtems avant la revoluti<jn de Fevrier ; 
(pie la trilmnc de la cbamlire des Deputes reten- 


tissait cbaque jour de leurs dolcances ; que des 
mesures extremes et de tout point inadmissiblcs 
etaieut sans ccssc proposces ; eiifiu rj^ue le travail 
libre s'cst substituc au travail force sans trop de 
resistance et a doune des resultats assez favorables, 
f|ui no poiuTont manrj^uer de s'ameliorer lorsc[ue 
la conduite des autorites ne permettra plus da 
croire a un retour vers un passe desormais impos- 

En resume, 1' acte d' emancipation a tranche 
pacific^uement Tune des (questions Ics plus compli- 
quees que preseutat uotre etat social et il sera, 
je pense, 1' un des prineipaux titres du gouverne- 
ment republicain de Fevricr a la consideration de 
nos neveux. 

Paris, Mai, 1851. 


PasGiUH'S from " )3oUtital Ucminis- 

[An uuiiuhli.-ihcJ work] 

BY M . A K A a O 

Formerly member of the Proyiiional Government and Miniiter of 


* * I regrettLMi extremely that I could not, 
in those first moments, be instructed by the opinions 
of one who had nobly devoted his life to the out- 
cast race of the negroes, who had made their wants, 
their dispositions, their manners, the objects of his 
most profound and (what is bettor) of his most 
disinterested study ; but he was absent. His 
ardent zeal had carried him to Senegal, to examine 
the condition of the captives there ; he did not 


retui'ii to Paris until the third of March. In a 
conversation we had together on that very day, 
M. Schoelcher proved to me that it was absokitely 
necessary to retiu-n to the idea of immediate eman- 
cipation ; he demonstrated to me that the senti- 
mental phrase which rounded my letter to the 
Governors of our colonies would in no wise satisfy 
the blacks ; that the vague promise it contained 
would seem to them a snare, and that, in point of 
fact, they would seek to seize by violence what 
ought to be granted to them of free grace. 

The arguments of M. Schoelcher carried enthe 
conviction to my mind, and I determi'ned to present 
to my colleagues a decree of Immediate Emanci- 
pation. I contemplated at the same time to make 
choice of M. Schoelcher, with the title of Under 
Secretary of State, to assist me in the great work 
of Abolition, and to appoint a Commission, the 
presidency of which I should bestow upon this emi- 
nent philanthropist, a Commission which should be 
charged with the preparation of the regulations 


wliieh the riglme of Lihorty .shouKI make iudis- 
pe usably iiece.ssjiry . 

These phius, thus projected, were laid liy iiie in 
u body Ijefore the l*rovisioual Goverumeut on the 
4th of Marcli, and 1 obtahied from it, not without 
incm-ring from some of them the reproach of 
rashness and the epithet of casse-con, the 
signature of the Decree, the tenor of which is as 
follows : — 

"P.vias, 4 March, 1848. 
In the name of the French People : 
The Provisional Government of the Kepublic, 
considering that no French territory can longer 
endure Slaves, Decrees : 

A Commission is appointed, under the dkection 
of the 3Iinister of Marine and the Colonies, to 
prepare with the least possible delay an act of 
immediate emancipation in all the colonies of the 

The members of the Provisional Government." 

PASSAGES, i;tc. 93 


It has been said that the Provisional Govern- 
ment had not the right to decree the immediate 
abohtion of Shivery. This position cannot be con- 
troverted, if strict right bo all that is intended. 
But that Government, born of necessity, had duties 
to fulfill. And who would dare to maintain that 
among the most imperative of those duties, the 
very fii'st rank should not bo assigned to the adop- 
tion of measures necessary to preserve the lives, 
the property, of the colonists, — to snatch them 
from the incendiary torch, the usual weapon of 
negroes exasperated by more than one century of 
barbarous and inhuman treatment 'i If, as I 
believe, the Decree of the 4th of March has 
contributed to bring about this result, I shall 
congratulate myself as long as I live for having 
been its mover. 

Much has been said of the ruin which the act of 
emancipation has scattered over all our colonies. 
I reply that to secure the lives of our colonists has 


Ijcen and Ijo our tii^t, oiu- most pressing duty. 
Lot it be ubservL'il, too, tliat Miirtiiiicjue, Guada- 
luupe. etc., weru in a deplorable eonimercial condi- 
tiun for a loni;; time previous to the Rovolution of 
February ; that tlie tribune of tlie Chamber of 
Deputies resounded daily with their lamentations ; 
that extreme and utterly inadmissible measures 
were continually proposed ; and, finally, that free, 
labor has taken the place of Slave labor without 
much resistance, and has been attended with suSi- 
ciently favorable results which cannot fail to grow 
})etter, when the course of the authorities .shall 
have forbidden the thought of a return to a Past, 
henceforth impo.ssible. 

To sum up the whole, the act cff emancipation 
cut peacefully one of the most complicated que.- 
tions which our .social state afforded, and it will 
))e, I believe, one of the chief titles of the repub- 
lican government of February to the approval nf 

Paris Mav. 1851. 



Full fed, well-eared for, thouglitless of to-morrow. 
The favored Slave may sing, and dance, and 


And the full cup of sensual pleasure quaff ; 

Nor heed the pangs of those who pine in sorrow, 

Who can no hope from calm endurance borrow ; 

For their dear life is doomed, in fields away 

From all who could their fleeting spirits stay. 

Caressed and fondled for her ebon beauty, 

Wanton and shameless, conscious of her power 
To charm amid the dalliance of the bower, 

0(i Tin: LIllKKTV UKI.L. 

And half laistaking yieUliiigiK'.ss fur duty, 
The pnor ck'graik'd girl may lightly buy 
The fir^t cx^iurience of a niuther's throes, 
Thf antorcdc'iit.s of umuiiuhorod woes. 

I)ut net fair .sunshine on foul stagnant pools, 
Not worthy lionoi-s heaped on worthle.s.s men. 
Not waving trees hiding some savage den. 
Not good and simple men made willing tools 
Of the world's hypocrites — its solenui fools — 
Do call torth loathing half .so strong and deep 
As Slavery smiling in polluted sleep. 

Wearied and worn, oppi'os.sed with hated toil. 
Conscious of knowledge hidden from his sight. 
Of darkness to which no man bringeth light, 

Of wounds iincleansed })y wine, unsoothed l)y oil. 

( )f chains which bind him to a t^Tant's soil. 
Of passions foul, unbridled, proud and stem, 
"Wliich lustful now, now vengeful, fiercely burn ; 


The Slave may groan and curse, may plot, and 
Such vows as Heaven alone can register 
And not condemn : — the mother's heart may 
With feelings dead within her soul till now. 
And clouds may darken her late wanton brow 
To think that those whom she has borne in pain, 
Her gifts fi'om God, but swell her master's gain ; 

But in their deepest woe, then- loudest wail, 
In all the treasured hatred of their breasts 
Where, as its home, blackness of darkness rests. 
In all the stormy passions which assail 
Their prisoned mind, is proof, of large avail, 
That the deep Spirit of their wildest cry 
Is for man's holiest birthright — Liberty. 

Escaped and free, by his own courage saved. 

Or purchased for himself with his own gold 

For which he nightly anxious labor sold ; 


Each }):irrler ovorloaiicil, tiuli daiigfr luaved. 
His feet tirni idaiited on tlie strand where waved 
Tlie flao; nf Freedom, and her ehildn'U tliroiiged 
Til weleonie to tlieir liearts the foully wronged ; 

Tlie Slave, hcconie a man. may {irondly swell 
With his new-found emotions, he may stand. 
With ever-open lips and outstretched hand, 
His tale of woe, and rage, and hate to tell : 
How he wiis tortured, a.s by fiends of hell : 

How. while he yet was tracked with savage zeal, 
He grasped, with purpose stern, the ready steel ; 

But gentler thoughts soon soothe his manly 
To present duty, blithe, he turns his new. 
And the fair race of life l.tegins anew ; — 
Tc >il now is hallowed — holy too is rest — 
Now the free woman looks, with cheerful quest. 
Into her children's eyes — they too are free — 
And her full heart rests, gracious God, on thee '. 

Bristol, EnglauU, October, ISol. 


laxil) in tj^^wi^^" 33rotl)crl)oob. 


Faitu iu the brotherhood of the human race. 
We do not mean any merely specuhitive assent to 
a verbal proposition, but that living faith, which 
manifests itself in works in behalf of others. 
Nothing can be conceived more utterly dead and 
worthless than faith without works. We may have 
faith enough to be able to remove mountains of 
oppression, but if we neglect to raise up the 
oppressed, we are as worthless as any stick or stone 
on the face of the earth. 


Eighteen centuries ago, Christ .«aid, '• Thou 
shall love thy neighbor as thy.self" — •Anew 
conunaniliaent I give unto you, that ye love one 
another as I have l«)ve<l you." By the paral)le of 
the Gotiil Samaritan, he taught tliat every huuKiii 
heinji who needs our assistance is our neighbor, 
ami entitled to that helj). Indeed nothing can be 
named, which is a more distinctive mark of all his 
teachings than this, — that it is our duty to aid 
whomsoever needs our aid, no matter what manner 
of man he is — be he Jew or Gentile, Christian or 
Pairan, bond or free, rich or poor, good or bad. 
Every suffering or wronged man simply because he 
is a man, is entitled to our sympathy with his 
sufferings and wrongs, and our active aid in his he- 
half. And we are utterly unworthy the Christian 
name, if we fail to improve our opportunities 
for extending this sympathy and assistance, even 
though we build magnificent churches, and conduct 
our religious services with all the accompaniments 
whicli art can iin}>art to them f>f beauty and im- 


pressiveuess. What will oui" beautiful temples 
profit us, so long as we suffer man, who is the only 
real temple of the living God, to lie crushed and 
trodden under foot 'i What will it profit us, that 
every seventh day we unite in tliose magnificent 
chants, which lift the soul to heaven, and call on 
God to be merciful to us miserable sinners, if on 
the other six days, we aid in capturing or retui'iiing 
a Fugitive Slave, or refuse aid from our abundance 
to those who need it 1 Surely it is more divinely 
beau.tiful to give than to receive, and yet we are so 
constituted, that then only do we truly receive 
blessmgs when we attempt to give them to others. 
God aids and blesses us only when and as we strive 
to aid and bless others. We are to love those who 
need our love, whether they receive us or reject 
us. We are to do good to those who stand in need 
of our help, whether they recognize us as friends 
or not. We are to work manfully against wrong 
and oppression of every kind, whether we are 


callctl practical iiii'ii or t'aiiatic.^. Let it be oxir 
constant ontleavitr to lay 

" just handrt on that {golden key 

That opes the palace ol' eternity," 

ami wo .shall reap a smx' rewanl in our own souLs. 
No reformer ever liveil, we care not how ^\Tetched 
his life, or lin>'crinf>; his death, who did not receive 
more real blessings than injuries. The undying 
love which thrilled through the soul of, 
when he said " Father, forgive them, for they 
know not wluit they do,'' outweighed even the 
sufferings of the cross. 

As no one, from an examination of the actual 
succession of the kings of England, would ever 
infer the real rule of succession, so no one from an 
examination of the institutions of Christendom 
would for an instant suppose that the noblest and 
most fundamental principle of Christ was the 
brotherhood of man. We do not deny, on the 
contrary, we are glad to find in every nation insti- 


tutions which embody more or less of this principle. 
Even the most heartlessly devised or wickedly 
executed system of poor laws recognizes the princi- 
ple, — w^hilst our numerous asylums for the sick, 
and insane, and reform schools for young criminals, 
develope it in a considerable degTee. Even a 
penitentiary, when under the control of such hu- 
mane men as JMr. Holloway, the warden of the 
Eastern Penitentiary in Pennsylvania, is made to 
exhibit in some considerable measure the Christian 
idea of asylums for the morally insane. We are 
rejoiced to see these and similar institutions in 
every nation ; but they manifestly constitute the 
exception, and not the rule of the character of the 
institutions of Christendom. Else why are they 
everywhere considered as marks of preeminent 
goodness, instead of being merely right, as they 
would be said to be if they were regarded as eon- 
forming to the common daily experience of Chiist- 
endom, and in other matters ? 

The principle of brotherhood necessarily implies 

104 riiK i.iiti:ici'v i!i:i.r,. 

(.•ooporatkm — iK'e'o.>.>arny uxcluik'S its oppDsito — 
c'oiiipotition. Wo are to co(i|KTatu with uiie anoth- 
er. A\'e are to secure our iiuliviilual happiness 
ami j>liy.-ical comfort hy such means, ami such 
means only, as teml to secure the happiness ami 
physical comfort of tliose around us. We have no 
right to secure oiu' own well-being by trampling 
on the rights of others. This is the only true 
princij»le — the necessary result of the teaching of 
Clirist. Thi.> should form t)ic very corner-stone of 
the civil institutions of Christendom. The laws of 
a Christian State should be so framed tliat the well- 
being of tlie individual should be identical with 
the well-being of tlie ma,ss of the community. 
Now we will not ask what Cluistian State has ever 
dreamed of doing anything like this ; but only, 
what Christian Nation has not adopted precisely 
the ^ contrary principle as its most fundamental 
maxim of government? Competition — heartless, 
soul destroying competition — is the very life of 
Christian commerce, and of all coumiercial laws. 


■•■ What 's one man's loss is auother man's gain," * 
is constantly on our lips or in our hearts. As if 
we coulJ really gain anything by availing oiu-selves 
of the necessities of our brother. We may take 
advantage of the over suppl}' of laborers to reduce 
theii" wages almost to starvation point, or compel 
tliem to work like brutes, and still do nothing more 
than the laws of Christendom not only tolerate, 
but sooner or later, necessitate. So long as manu- 
facturers and traders must rely for their profits on 
the ability to undcr.sell their neighbors, so long 
will men, women and children be converted into 
wages Slaves in the factories and mines in England. 
Similar results must of necessity follow even here, 
at some fiitm-e day, when our labormg population 
becomes equally dense. t 

* Very i-ecently, during a severe money pressure, ne\TS came of the 
devastating fires in San Francisco, wliereby hundreds of femihes 
were driven from their homes, and millions of property destroyed. 
A mercantile acquaintance said tome "the fire will benefit us — 
whatever hurts them will help us " I 

t It now costs on an average, only a little more than seven cents a 

!•••; THE I.IUKIITV liKLl,. 

IJtit WL' noL-d Hot gu alimad to fiml oxaiiiples of 
tliL' ri'iuuliatiun liy a Christian State of this most 
vital jjriiicijdc of Christianity. What country has 
greater advantages of every kind tlian our own '.' 
Do \ve not make it our especial hoast that wo pos- 
sess a larger share of civil and religi(»us freedom 
than any other nation V Have we not aluKJSt every 
clime that the sun shines on, and in inexhaustible 
profusion, every means recjuisite to the gratification 
"if our pliysical wants V And yet here, in this land 
of promise, the refuge of the oppressed of all na- 
tions save one, not our laws <»nly, not the acts of 
our Congi-ess merely, Init tlie very framework of 
government itself, our fundamental Coustitutiou 

Jay, or i?25 a year to foetl an ailult Slave. Henry ( "lay (Letter to 
Thompson Ilankey, K-iii., of UinJou, May 10, ISol,) dtclurw it to be 
hi.'; opinion '■ long anj deliberately entertainej," that '• Slavery will 
cease whenever, by the increa.'* of the white population, free white 
labor can be procured chtajier than that of the blacks " I In other 
worils, his only hope of aboll-hiiig the Slavery of the blnck.'J rests in 
being able to brutalize the white laborer Ijelow even the present Slave 
level I Henry Clay is a Christian by profe.-sioii, and one of our idols, 
and this is the nineteenth century since Christ taught, liveU and 


openly repudiates this teaching of Christ, this 
deepest conviction of the human heart. Xot only 
this, but if, after so base an apostacy, we may 
believe Daniel Webster, the preservation of our 
own blessings depends on our continuing to aid in 
crushing oui' fellow-men I Republican liberty de- 
pendent for its very existence upon the meanest of 
despotisms I Chattel Slavery, the corner-stone of 
the Republic I Let no one say tlvdi this evil of 
Slavery is only a slight stain on our Constitution. 
It is ingTained in its very texture. The most fun- 
damental of all oiu' coustitu-tional rights, — the 
one upon the exercise of which all other of the 
constitutional provisions rest, and the very exist- 
ence of the government depends, namel}-, the right 
of representation, is so framed, that Slaveholders, 
soleli/ because they have thus trampled under foot 
the idea of human brotherhood, have more politi- 
cal power on the floor of Congress than the same 
number of men who refuse thus to crush their 
fellows. And the experience of the last sixty 

108 TlIK LinKItTV UKI.L. 

years lias shown us, that mainly hy tlio iiiflucnco 
given thoni l»y this provision, a mere handful of 
SlavehoMing voters, not now one humlreil thousand 
in niunher, can control the destinies of a nation of 
twenty-three millions ! We have also jik-dged the 
entire physical strength of the nation to keep the 
Slave in his fetters. Boston merchants of the 
highest respectability tendered then- services to the 
Mai-shal to aid him in can-ying hack Thomas Sims 
into Slavery I It matters not whether the Fugitive 
asks of us in the name of Christ, whose followers 
we profess to he. that we will <hi unto him as we 
would have him do unto us in like circumstances, 
we " conquer our prejudices " in obedience to the 
Constitution. "We boast that as a nation we 
pos-soss the largest share of religious freedom. 
Here, therefore, if anywhere, we ought to find the 
widest recognition of Christian truth. And yet 
here wc find the most glaring repudiation of it I 

But this repudiation of the teachings of Christ 
Ls not confined to the civil institutions of Clmst- 


endom, it extends to the religious institutions also. 
Christ had not where to lay his head, and forbade 
the use of force even in his own defence. The 
highest earthly representative of Christ lives in a 
palace, and never walks abroad but he is suiTound- 
ed by guards I Christ du-ected his disciples to take 
no money in their purses, but it costs more than 
ninety millions of dollars every year to support his 
disciples of the present day I The archbishops 
and bishops of the English Protestant Church are 
said to receive every year SI, 485, 575, or on an 
average $59,423 apiece, while all around their 
palaces is squalid wi'etchedness and brutality. Wo 
have seen it stated, and have never seen it denied, 
that some of the revenue of the Bishop of London 
is derived fi'ora the rent of houses which are occu- 
pied as brothels ! But here again we need not go 
out of our own country to find the most flagrant 
repudiation of Christianity by those whose profes- 
sion it is, not only to preach it in its purity but to 

carry out then* teachings into practice. Where 


win ytiu find more studied defences of Slavery 
than in the wurks of some of our ministers, north- 
ern as well a>! southern. It matters not which sect 
V'lii ( liuo>e. — taken as a body they are all alike, 
either open defenders of the Christianity of Slave- 
holding, or ei[ually lirm supporters of it. by fellow- 
shipping as good Christians those who do thus 
defend it. The T'nitarian, Theodore Clapp, of 
New Orleans, who speaks of ''God dealing in 
Slaves.'' stands on the same platform as 
Stuart, the Orthodox ex-profe.ssor of Andover. The 
Unitarian, Orville Dewey, of New York, who is 
willing to send his mother or his sfm into Slavery, 
in order to save the Union, though (stern mor- 
alist that he is) he would not tell a lie or worship 
idols,* to save the world, takes by the hand, an 

• Some men worship the Constitution of the United States as really 
and truly as in olden times the golden calf wa.s worshipped. Idol- 
atry doe.'i not consist in worshipping sticks and stones merely, but 
eyery one is an idolater who wickedly reverences any of man's works, 
be that work intellectual, moral, or material. Every man who repu- 
diates the notion of u Idgher law than the Constitution, is as much 


elder, though not a better soldier in the cause of 
Slavery, the Right Rev. Bishop Meade, of A^ir- 
ginia, who orally instructs the Slaves that they 
have great cause to bless God for making them 
Slaves, because thereby he helps them towards 
heaven ! The Right Rev. Bishop Ives, of North 
Carolina, who has devised that admmible little 
catechism for Slaves, so that they may be taught 
" the truth as it is in Jesus, without then- knowing 
a letter of the alphabet," having long since 
" ceased to wail over the imaginary suiFerings " of 
the Slaves, can take with cordiality the outstretched 
hand of the Rev. Dr. Gannett, of Boston, who 
thinks he serves his Father m heaven by refusing 
shelter to a Fugitive Slave I And if it be true 
that the income of the Bishop of London depends 
in any degree upon the flourishing condition 
of a most debasing vice, the worldly prospects 

an idolater as if he prostratcil himself daily before the Grand Llama, 
or adored the seamless coat at Treves, with the adoration he would 
give to God himselfi 


of thuusauils ot" till' uiiuistcrs aiul iiieuiljcr.s of 
ProtfStant cluiiclies in ihc riiited States ilepenJ 
on the flourisliiii^ eoiulitiuii of Slavciy, for they 
own and work as Shivi's oviT six hundred and fifty 
tlioii>and hiniian lioings, worth not loss than thrc<; 
luuidrod niillioiLs of dolhirs I llow difilTcnt fnjni 
thu spiritual morality of Christ's teaching, who 
condennied even the thought of wrong-doing, is 
the practice of these, his American disciples, who 
for the sake of gain make brutes of over half a 
million of their lirothers, comj)elliiig them to live 
in a state of utter ignorance, denying them the 
right of marriage, denying them even the privilege 
of owning a liilile, though at the same time they 
ai'e spending millions of dollars to send that same 
book to those of the heathen of other lands, the 
color of whose skin shows that they have souls 
worth saving I 

We thus see that the nations of Christendom, 
and ours among the rest, utterly repudiate, in their 
civil and religious institutions, the sublime doctrine 


of Christianity — the brotherhood of the human 
family. The Chui-ch has, it is true, a doctrine that 
certain persons are " brethren in Christ," but as 
Sandy Mackaye says, " they don't mean brothers 
at a', they say bretheru. And then jist limit it 
down wi' a ' in Christ,' for fear o' owre wide 
applications, and a' that"! This noble principle 
it is, which rests at the foundation of the Anti- 
Slavery movement. In the Slave, we see a suffer- 
ing brother, who needs our sympathy and aid. 
We recognize in the Slaveholder, also, a brother 
who is wronging his own nature ; and to him also 
oiu- sympathy and aid is due. We will endeavor 
to convince the master of the enormous wrong of 
Slaveholding. We will sympathize in his trials, 
and will do all in our power to aid him in freeing 
himself from the moral contamination of the insti- 
tution. We will endeavor in every just way to aid 
the Slave. We will sympathize with him in his 
wrongs, and vrill do all in our power to aid him to 

become a free man, with capacity to lead a manly 

114 THE LlllEUTV liELL. 

lift'. CliristiTiiloiu rejects one of the noblest prin- 
ciples of the religion of Christ. On it we have 
pliUiteJ ourselves, and, secure in tlie truth of (jur 
principle, we are willing to work on with 
patience. May it he one of the pleasant memories 
in our departing hour, that we have, according to 
the light and strength given to us, fought the good 
fight. Whatever cLjc we may abandon, may our 
faith in human brotherhood remain unshaken to 
the last. And may it never be that dead of 
doctrine, but may it be that living, active faith, 
which shall strew oiu- path through life with the 
blessings of the poor and the oppressed. Of this 
we may be sure, that in proportion as oui' exertions 
are we shall secure to ourselves that 
peace of mind which the world can neither give 
nor take away. 

Linden Place, Brookline, September, 1851. 


Slje (Dlbe fee. 


sacred Type ! thou stood'st the shock 

When all the forest's pride 
Floated uptorn, and many a rock 

The deluge could not bide. 

Thy branches beut but did not break, 
When waves were o'er thee borne ; 

The raging storm thy leaves might shake, 
Not one was lost or torn. 

When the great fountams of the deep 
Were stopped, and from the ground 


The whebuiiig waters were a-ssuaged — 
The Ark u renting fuuud ; 

Then fnnii the surge tliy beauteous head ■' straightway " fresh and fair, 

And forth the Dove, divinely led, 
Found a sweet sohice there. 

So, when from Jordan's sacred stream 

Came up the Holy One, 
From high the Spirit lit on Him, 

While God proclaimed His Son I 

One healing leaf plucked off from thee, 
That back the swift Dove bore, 

Dispelled the doubts, confirmed the faith, 
The Patriarch owned before. 

■' How blest the Messengers of good I 
How beauteous are their feet " ! 

No other tenant of the wood 
Was for this errand meet. 


And none beside poured out their blood 

(Of all the winged race,) 
Before the altar of the Lord, 

That Man might there find grace ! 

That Holy Unction, that possess'd 

The power to sanctify, 
Was formed of Oil derived from Thee, 

And spice from Araby ! 

No Priest could offer sacrifice. 

No King could wear his crown. 
Till from his head this compound rare. 

O'er all his robes " ran down." 

Oh ! Type divine ! when rain and dew 

To Israel were denied. 
The Widow's cruse, thy glad'ning Oil, 

By Heaven's decree, supplied. 

The holiest offices were thine ; 
Like Cherubim s of God 


Witliiii the Oracle clivine 
To iniiii.-kr his word. 

For ontranco to the lioliest 

Thou wert the luy^^tie donr, 
Carved with pahn trees, and open flowers. 

And ( 'heriihinis all o'er. 

The Prophet .saw with glad surprise 

In vision true revealed, 
The second Temple glorious rise. 

With Grrace till then concealed ; 

There seven bright Lamps by Thee supplied 

With Light, excelling shone, 
Above what Nature's truths reveal, 

Derived from Heaven alone : 

Appointed to a ransomed world 

Salvation to declare, 
Well might thy Two anointed ones 

Thy chosen semblance bear I 


" Where'er it lis^ts the wind will blow/' 

Like God's renewing' oTace — 
Denied the haixghtj sons of earth — 

Shines in the meek ones' face ! 

Then let the Priest and Levite pass — 

They had no power to give 
That unction from the Holy One 

That bids the dying live. 

Despised and scorned of men, he came 

Who brought a copious store. 
Of mystic Wine and sacred Oil 

In the pierced heart to pour. 

Thus healed, the Soul no fear can know. 

Tliouo-h savage beasts assail, 
Though called to face a giant foe — 

Or pass through death's dark vale. 

Touched by thy power the child of sin. 
Sought her loved Lord with care. 


Washed widi liL-r tears liis " boautoous foot," 
Anil wipeil tlifui with her hair 

And ki.s.set.1 them oft, and when she shed 

Her box of ointment pure 
Upon hor Lord's devoted liead, 

He spoke her pardon sure. 

The sacred record of her luve, 

" Her work aforehand done,'' 
That for his burying prepared 

The holy, harmless one ; 

Where'er the Gospel is proclaimed 

This record shall l)e read, 
And many a sinner weep and pray, 

By her example led. 

Touched by that power, the warrior's sword, 
The plouglish are's form shall take. 

Mercy and Tnith cumbined ajipear, 
Each cruel yoke to Ijreak. 


Beauty for ashes then be given, — 

For grief, the Oil of joy, — 
Chains from the toil-worn Slave be riven, 

And Sin no more alloy. 

'T was Jesse's Godlilic Son compared 

The Righteous man to Thee, 
Eenowned type of Light and Life ! 

Thou fair " Green Olive Tree I " 

Boston, September, 1851. 



^\)c C\kc aiiLi tijc Oift"ci-ciit. 

BY T 11 E O D O K K P A U K K K. 

A few inontlis ajru, tlio l\\<i]\t Iloiiuratjle \V . Iv 
Gladstone, the moiiiber of the IJrili<h Parliament 
for Oxfortl, publLshed '■ Two Letters to the Earl uf 
Aberdeen on the State Prosecutions of the Neapoli- 
tan Government." Mr. Gladstone ai)pears to be one 
uf the conservative ComuiDnors in England ; 
and he writes, if I mistake not, to one of the most 
conservative of tlie Lords. The letters have tilled 
England witli amazement. The witrk was pub- 
lished last July, and it is imw the twenty-fourth 
of October while I write ; but ten editions have 
ab'eady been exhausted in England, and tlio 


eleventh has liad time to travel three tliou.saud 
miles, ami tiud its way to my desk. 

Mr. Gladstone makes some disclosures which 
have astonished the simplicity of Father England. 
He accuses the Government of Naples, in its 
treatment of those accused of political offences, of 
•'an outrage upon religion, upon civilization, upon 
huuianity, and upon decency." What is more, he 
abundantly substantiates his accusation by details 
so horrible, that he thinks they will not be credited 
by his countrymen ; for the actual wickedness of 
the Neapolitan Government surpasses all that 
Englishmen had thought it possible for malice to 
Invent, or tyranny to inflict. 

Here are some of the matters of fact, of a gen- 
eral nature. ""It is not mere imperfection, not 
ambition in low quarters, not occasional severity, 
that I am about to describe ; it is an incessant, 
systematic, deliljerate violation of the law Ijy the 
power appointed to watch over and maintabi it. It 
is such violation of human and written law as this, 

IJt TKK MriKUTY lilM.L. 

carried on for tlie j)urpo.-<o (if violating every other 
law, unwritten and eternal, luuiian or divine." 
•' It i,s the awful profanation of puhlic religion, l»y 
its notMnus alliance, in the governing powers, 
with the violatinn of every moral law, umler the 
.'^thuulant of fear and vengeanee." " The effect of 
all thi.s is total inversion of all the moral and .social 
idea.s. Law, instead of being respected, is odious. 
Force, and not affection, is the foundation of gov- 
ernment. The governing power i^ clothed with all 
the vices for its attributes." 

lie thinks tliere are not less than twenty tliousand 
pinsoners for political offences, locked up in jail ; 
between fiur and five hundreil were to be tried for 
their lives on the fifteenth of May. Of one hun- 
dred and foity Deputies who formed the Legislative 
Assendjly, in 1840, .seveuty-six had been arrested, 
or had fled into exile. 

The law of Naples requues that ' ' personal 
liberty shall be inviolable, except under a warrant 
from a Court of Ja.^tice, authorized for the pur- 


pose." But in dofianec of tliis law, tlic Govern- 
ment watches and dogs the people ; paj-s doniicil- 
iary visits veiy unceremoniously at night ; ransacks 
houses ; seizes papers ; imprisons men %j the 
score, — by the hundred, — by the thousand, — 
without any warrant wliatever, sometimes without 
any written authority at all, or anything beyond 
the word of a policeman." 

After the illegal arrest, the trial is long delayed, 
— sometimes more than two years. " Every effort 
is made to concoct a charge, by the perversion and 
partial production of real evidence ; and, this fail- 
ing, the resort is to perjury and forgery. The 
miserable creatures, to be found in most communi- 
ties, who are ready to sell the liberty and life of 
fellow subjects for gain, and throw their ovnr souls 
into the bargain, are deliberately employed b}- the 
Executive power to depose, according to their 
instructions, against the men whom it is thought 
desirable to ruin." If the defendant has counter 

evidence, he is not allowed to produce it in court. 

lliO TiiK i.iiiKinv ni;i.i.. 

Here an- uiau<r> ni laci ni a uniie particular 
nature. The tiltli ut" the prb>on.s is beastly. The 
ilocturs nuver visit the prisunei-s. Three or fuur 
huuilroiP prirfuuers "all ;«lept in a Imig, low, 
vaulted room, having no light except from a single 
and very moderate sized grating at one end." 

Fi-om Deeember Ttli, 1S50, to February ord. 
1851, Signor Pironte, a gentleman who had been 
a judge, was .shut u]> in a cell " about eight feet 
s(|uare, below the level of the ground, with no 
light except a grating at the top of the wall, out of 
which he c(juld not see." Tliis was in the city 
of Ntiples. 

Signor Carlo Poerio, formerly a miiiijiter of the 
Coiu-t, was illegally an'csted, thrown into jail, and 
kept for seven or eight month;? in total ignorance of 
the offence charged against him. At length he 
was accused of belonging to a party which did not 
exist. He was tried by a special couil. The 
only evidence against him was that of a hired and 
worthless informer of the government ; even that 


was inconsistent, contradictory, and of no value. 
Of coiu'se. Signer Poerio was found guilty. He 
was sentenced to twenty-four years imprisonment in 
irons. He and sixteen others were confined in the 
Bag-no of Nisida, in a cell about thirteen feet by 
ten, and ten feet high. Wlien the beds were let 
down for these seventeen men, there was no space 
between them. The prisoners were chained in 
pairs, with irons that weigh al)Out thirtj'-thrce 
pounds to eacli man. The cliams are never taken 
off. The food is 1/read, and a soup so nauseous 
that only famine can force it down the throat. 

To justify itself, the Grovernment has published 
a " Philosophical Catechism for the use of Schools," 
which teaches the theory which the authorities prac- 
tice. It declares that the prince is not bound to 
keep the constitution when it " impugns the right 
of sovereignty" of hmiself. " TMienever the 
people may have proposed a condition which im- 
pairs the sovereignty, [the arbitrary power of the 
king,] and when the prince may have promised 

128 Tin: Lir.KiiTv hkll. 

t(t oltM'rvo it. that proposal i> an absurdity, 
that promise is null." '" It is the of 
the SovereigH " "to docide when tlie is 
null." This eatcchism, whieh seeks to justify the 
perjury of a monarch, and announees the theory of 
erime, is puldi.shed Ijy authority, and in the name 
of " the Most IToly and .Vlmighty God, the Trinity 
in Unity." 

The discli-sures in Mr. <!ladstone's letters filled 
England with horror. Even Naples fears the puh- 
lic opinion of Europe, and the Neapolitan Govern- 
ment Leeame alarmed. Some attempts have been 
made by its officials, it is said, to deny the facts. 
The British thought them too bad to be true. 

Yet the Government of Naples is not wholly 
inaccessible to mercy. For Mr. Morris, the 
American miniater at Naples, l)ecoming interested 
in a young man, Signor Domenico Nostromarina. 
confined in the island of f'apri for some alleged 
political offence, a.sked his pardon of the king, and 
it was granted. 


The American Declaration of Independence 
announces it as self-evident, that all men are 
created equal, and ■witli certain unalienable rights, 
and amongst them the right to life, liberty, and 
the piu'suit of happiness ; and the design of Gov- 
ernment is to secure those rights. 

The Constitution of Massachusetts provides that 
" Every person has a right to be secure from all 
unreasonable searches and seizures of his person," 
and ' ' all warrants therefor arc contrary to this 
right, if the cause or foundation of them he not 
previously supported by oath or affirmation." 
But, in September, 1851, more than fifty persons 
were seized by the creatures of the city govern- 
ment of Boston, with no warrant, not for the pur- 
pose of a trial, and were publicly exhibited, by 
the marshal of the city, to the mob who came to 
stare at them. 

In April, 1851, an officer in the pay of the 
city of Boston, with no warrant, seized Thomas 
Simms, then an inhabitant of that city, on a false 


jjieteucL', by uigbt, aiul brmiylit liiiii but'ure a sub- 
altern officer of the Geuerul Goveruiuout of the 
United States. He was eonliued iu a court linuse 
belonging to one of the counties of Massacliusett,s, 
whicli was, for the time, converted into a jail for his 
detention, contrary to tlie law of the State. Offi- 
cers actinji under the laws of 31as.sachusetts, and 
subject to its penalties, aided in kidnapping and 
detaining this uufortmiate man, though the law of 
Massachusetts forbid such conduct on their part. 

At the request of Mr. Sinnns, I visited him in 
his place of confinement, where he was guarded by 
about a dozen men who were in the same room 
with him. One of them had a drawn sword in his 
hand. I learned some facts from him which need 
not be repeated here. 

After what was called a trial, before a single 
man. and he a creature of the government, who 
was to be paid twice as much for deciding against 
his prisoner as for him, a trial conducted without 
■'due form of law," Mr. Sinnns was sentenced to 


hondage for his natiu'al life. Yet he was accused 
of no offence, except that of escaping from those 
who had stolen him from himself, and claimed his 
lahor and his limbs as theirs. 

When he was to be carried off, and delivered to 
liis tormentors, fifteen hundred citizens of Boston 
volunteered to conduct the victim of illegal tyranny 
out of the State, and deliver him up to the men 
who had taken him at first. Some of these volun- 
teers were said to be men of pi'operty and standing 
in the town. 

A brigade of soldiers, since called ' ' The 
Simms Brigade," was called out at the expense of 
the city, and by direction of its magistrates, and 
kept under arms day and night, to aid in violating 
the laws of Massachusetts, and profaning the law- 
of God. Their head-quarters were in what wa^ 
once called the " Cradle of Liberty," in Faneuil 

The court-house was .surrounded by chains fm- 
.•several days, and guarded by mercenaries of the 

\:','J. Tin: i.iukutv bkli.. 

city, liiivil I"!' Ill'' jiiirpose, and anniil with 
ljluilgL'un.s. I rouulcil fuity-fuur of incii on 
guard at tho same time. They inule-sted and 
turned back men who had business in the court- 
house, liut admitted any " gentleman from the 
Soutli." The Judges of the State Courts stooped 
and crouehed down, and crawled under the chain, 
to go, emblematically, to theii' places. 

A portion of the city police, armed with swords, 
was drilled one day in a public sijuaro, and the 
movements of the awkward squad were a little 
ridiculous to such as had never .seen British clowns 
under a drill Serjeant. One of the by-standers 
laughed, and the chief police ofTicer on the station 
threatened to lock him up in a jail if he laughed 

The mayor of the city rose, soberly, and with 
two or tliree hundred of the police of the city, 
armed with Idudgeons and swords, in the darkest 
liour of tlie night, took their victim, weeping, 
out of his jail. Some benevolent men furnished 


him with clothes for his voyage. He was thou 

conducted by this crew of kidnappers through the 

principal street of the city to a vessel waiting tu 

receive him. As he went on board, he burst into 

tears, and exclaimed, "This is Massachusetts 

liberty I " Several of the inhabitants of the city 

attended their victim to Savannah, in Greorgia, 

whence he had fled away. There they were 

honored with a public entertainment given by the 

citizens of that place. 

Their victim was conducted to jail, and severely 

flogged. He was not allowed to see his mother, or 

any other relative. It was afterwards related that 

his master, still keeping him in jail, ordered him to 

be tortm-ed every day with a certain number of 

lashes on his bare back, but once offered to remit 

a part of the tortui'e on condition that he should 

ask pardon for ninning away : he refused, and took 

the blows. But one day, the jail-doctor, finding 

the man feeble and daily failmg, told the master 

his Slave was too unwell to bear that tortiu'o. The 


master said, " Daiim him, give him the lashes if 
lio ilies 1 " and the laslics fell. 

Since that time I have heard nothing of Mr. 
Simms ; the oubliettes of Savannah have closed 
over him, and no one lui.< toM the story of his end. 
Some of the "religious" newspapoi-s of the North 
have informed tlieir readers that his master is 
•'an excellent Christian." 

Mr. Sinnus was a smart, dashing young fellow, 
of .some one or two and twenty years. He had a 
wife at Savannah, (hamlsome, and nearly white,) 
not belonging to his master, it is said. After hLs 
e.scape to Boston, he informed her of his hiding- 
place. She was the concubine of a white man, 
and told him lier husband's secret. He informed 
the master, and at his dii'oction, with some wit- 
nesses hired for the purpose, came to Boston in 
search of the runaway. By the illegal measures 
of the city government of Boston, the Slave-hunter 
secured his object and returned home. In 
Boston, a dealer in goods for the Southern market, 


<i rich man, entertained the Slave-hunter and hl.< 
erew Tvhile there, took them to ride in a coach, and 
gave them a costly supper at one of the prineip;il 
hotels in the city. 

The last legal effort to save the man from the 
terrible punishment which the Bostonians were 
desirous of inflicting upon him, was made by a 
distinguished citizen of this State, before the 
ch'cuit Judge. I shall not now tell all I know 
about the matter here ; l)ut when the Judge 
decided against his victun, and thus cut off his last 
hope, the sentence was received by the rich and 
mercantile audience that crowded the court- 
house with applause and the clapping of hands. 

The leading citizens of Boston rejoiced at the 
transaction and its result. Some of them publicly 
mocked at all efforts made in behalf of the unfor- 
tunate man who had been kidnapped. The com- 
mercial and political newspapers of the city gave 
expression to the common joy, that an inhabitant 
of Boston had, for the fu'st time for many years, 


ami at the expense of the city, Ijcon doomed to 
eternal bondage by the authorities of tlie place. 
It was tliouglit trade would improve ; and it is 
now stated tlmt IJoston has had more Southern 
• patronage," since tlie kidnapping of Simms. 
than in any previous six nioutlis since the adoption 
of the Constitution. 

The leading clergy of the town were also deei)ly 
delighted at the success of this kidnapping ; sev- 
eral of them, in their pulpit services, expressed 
their approbation of the deed, and gave God 
thanks, in their public prayers, that the Fugitive 
Slave Law had been executed in Bo.ston. One 
of them, the most prominent clergyman in the city, 
declared, in private, tliat if a Fugitive should seek 
.shelter of him, "I would drive him away from my 
nwn door." Another had previou.sly declared, in 
public, tliat he would send his own mother into 
Slavery to keep the law. At a subsequent period, 
the President of tlie T'nited States, in his A-isit to 


Boston, congratulated the authorities of the StDte 
on this execution of his law. 

The laws of Massachusetts are flagrantly vio- 
lated in Boston ; especially the usury laws and the 
license law. x\t this moment there are, probably, 
at least a thousand places in the city where licj^uor 
is publicly sold in violation of the law. It is 
notorious that even the Banks daily violate the 
usui-y law. These are matters of continual occur- 
rence. But, last spring, a citizen of Boston was 
assassinated, in broad day-light, in Haymarket 
Square. The assassin was well known, but he ha.- 
not been arrested. The city government has, as 
yet, offered no public reward for his apprehension. 
It is rumored that the man was murdered by one 
whom he had complained of for violating the license 

The Fugitive Slave Law drove into exile about 
four or five hundred inhabitants of Boston in less 
than a year. They had committed no crmie, 


except to believe tlieiiiselves tlie owners of tlieir 
<»wn bodies, ami act on that belief. 

Several Unitarian clergj'nien have been driven 
from their parishes in conseipience of opposing that 
law. Tt has l)een proclainietl by the most eminent 
jioliticians of the nation, that there is no law 
higher than the stiitutes of Congress. Prominent 
flergymeu assent to the doctrine. Thus the negation 
of God is made the fii-st principle of politics. In a 
certain town, in Massachusetts, the names of all 
anti-Slavery men are rejected from the list of jurors. 
Some of the leading commercial newspapers of 
Boston advise men not to employ such as are 
opposed to the Fugitive Slave Law. 

IMany clergymen declare that Slaveiy is a 
Christian institution ; some of gi-eat eminence, — 
as men estimate clerical eminence, — have under- 
taken to support and justify it out of the Bible. 
Several wealthy citizens of Boston are known to 
own Slaves at this moment ; they buy them and 
seU them. There is one who has made a larfce 


fortune by stealing men on tlio coast of Africa, and 
thence carrying Slaves to America. In Boston it 
is respectable to buy and sell men, — the Slave- 
hunter, the kidnapper, is an "honorable man," — 
even the defender of kidnapping and Slave-hunting 
is respected and beloved, while the Philanthropist, 
who lilierates bondmen, is held in abhoiTence. The 
blacks are driven from the public schools by a law 
of the city. There is a church in which colored 
men are not allowed to buy a pew. They are nf)t 
permitted to enter the schools of theology or of med- 
icine. They are shut out from our colleges. In 
some places they are not allowed to be buried with 
white men. An episcopal church, in New York, 
holds a cemetery on this condition, that " they 
shall not suffer any colored person to be buried 
in any part of the same." A presbyterian ehiu-ch 
advertised that in its grave-yard " neither neoroes 
nor executed felons " should ever be buried there. 
No sect opposes Slavery ; no prominent sectarian. 
The popular religion of New England teaches that 


it is Chrlitian to buy Slavt'S, sell Slaves, and maki- 
Slaves. '■ Slavery, as it exists at the present day," 
says an " eminent divine," "Li agreeable to tlu- 
order of divine providence." 

One of the newspapers in Boston, ou the lUth 
of October, 1851, speaking of the Abolitionists 
and Liberty party men, says: "Such traitors 
should every one be yarrotttd,^' — strangled U> 
death. Another, of the same date, says that Mr. 
Webster's ' ' wonderful laboi's in behalf of the C(jn- 
stitution " " have vindicated his claim to the highest 
title yet bestowed upon man." The Church and 
the State alike teach that though the law of God 
may be binding on Iliu), it Ls of no validity before 
an act of Congi'css. 

America is a llepublie ; and Millard Fillmore is 
by "accident," President of the United States of 
America. Naples is a Monarchy ; and Ferdinand 
is, by the "grace of God," King. Such is the 
Diflferent ; oh, reader, behold the Like 1 

Boston, October, ISol. 

CADIZ. 141 


Wk saw fair Cadiz gleam out gradually, 
White, as if builded of the foam of ocean, 
White as a bride, with orange blossoms free 
Scattered upon her, and it seemed to me 
Her sweet breath met us with the wind's least 

And by her side a cloudy mountain rose, 

Its top enfolding soft a purple tower. 

Such shapes sometimes our new world sunset 

But thou, old mountain, on thy sides still flower 
The very blooms of poor Xarifa's bower. 


Auil, from thy purple turrets leaniug low, 

Thy course is seen, sliiulug (jruadabpiiver 

Rushing tuwartl the sea, its waves to strew 

With leaves of old romance, 

And blend with ocean's flow 

Fresh sighs for yuuth and heauty gone forever 

Fade once again on the horizon's rim, 
Take back the vision and the sweet emotion, 
O lovely Cadiz, bride so fair and dim I 
Drained is the cup thou fill'dst me to the brim, 
And dropped within the Ijluest wave of ocean. 

At Sea off Cadiz, August Ist. 1851. 


(Tljc IVirciinia iUaroons. 


In the West India islands, but more cspccialh 
in Jamaica, Cuba and St. Domingo, during tlie 
reign of Slavery, it was common for Fugitive 
Slaves to seek shelter and security in the mountain- 
ous and secluded portions of those islands, where 
they congregated in small communities, and main- 
tained their freedom at the cost of much privation 
and, probably, frequent suffering. They were at 
constant war with the planters, and were hunted 
with as little mercy as are the royal tigers in the 
jungles of Bengal. They not unfrequently, how- 
ever, retaliated upon their persecutors the same 

144 nil l.lltKlcTY IIKLL. 

lucasurL' of vijn;j,ounLo wlikli wa.s meted out tu 

lluiitiiig tlie Maruons, as they were termed, 
was a matter ut" cummuii (jccurreiiee, when tlieir 
depredatiuus u[)ijii any iiurtleuhu" loeality heeauie 
troublesome ; lor their notions of meum and 
tnum were, of coui'se, very similar to those of theu' 
slaveholding teachers. Sueh was the state of 
things in Jamaica previous to emancipation, and 
such is now substantially the case, I apprehend, in 
Cuba, and, indeed, in all slaveholding conuimnities. 
It is not, I thinlc, generally known, however, that 
oiu" Southern States contain many communities of 
greater or less numbers, very similar to those of 
Jamaica and Cuba, though not designated liy the 
name of Mai-oons, but as ' ' gangs <jf runaway 

The Atlantic slaveholding States, where these 
gangs are most frecjuent, do not afford any moun- 
tainous regions to which the Fugitive can resort and 
set at nought the efforts of his puisuers. Neces- 


sltj, bowcver, here as elsewhere is the mother of 
invention ; and in lieu of almost inaccessible moun- 
tainous reo'ions, the Fuoitive avails himself of the 
numerous and extensive swamps and low grounds 
which abound in the old and many of the newer 
Slave States. 

These swamps are, for the most part, sub- 
merged with water the year round, but contain 
many islands of dry land, slightly elevated above 
high water mark ; and here the Fugitive erects his 
hut, cultivates, to the best of his very lunited 
means, patches of corn and sweet potatoes, and not 
imfrequently rears a large family of children. 
Occasionally, when necessity presses hard, he 
makes a foray by night upon the nearest plant- 
ation or settlement, and helps himself without 
leave asked or granted. When, however, they 
seek refuge in swamps of small dimensions and 
not difficult to penetrate, they are frequently 
hunted out and captured or slain. Generally. 

the latter fate overtakes them, a part of the 

1 hi Tin: I.IIIKUTY !ii:i,r,. 

gang l)c'iiig killed on tlii' >.}iot, ;iiiil tlie roniainder 
r.-^iajiing, for tlio tiiiie, to uncoimtor at sunie future 
day the doom of thoir fcdlows. 

The great Dismal S\vam|», wlTu-li lies near tlu- 
• 'astern sliore of Airjiiuia, ami comniemiiiir near 
Xnrfitlk stretches (juite into Xortli Carolina, eon- 
tains a largo colony of negroesj, \vli<i originally 
obtained tlieii' freedniii by the grace of God, and 
theii- own determined energy, instead of the con- 
sent of their owners, or by the help of the 
(Jolonization Society. How long this colony has 
existed, what is its amount of population, what 
poi-tlon of the colonists are now Fugitives, and 
what the descendants of Fugitives, are (ques- 
tions not easily determined ; nor can we readily 
avail ourselves of the better knowledge undoubt- 
edly existing in the vicinity of this colony, by 
reason of the decided o1)jections of those best 
enabled to gratify our curiosity, to some extent 
at least, to furnish any information whatever, 
lest it might be used by Abolitiouist« for their 


purposes, as one of tliem frankly said wlien ques- 
tioned about the matter. 

Nevertheless, some facts, or, at least, an a})pr()xi- 
mation towards the truth of them, are known 
respectmg this singular community of blacks, who 
have won then* freedom and established themselves 
securely in the midst of the largest slaveholding 
State of the South ; for from this extensive swamp 
they are very seldom, if now at all, reclaimed. 
The chivalry of Yu-giuia, so far as I know, have 
never yet ventvu-ed on a Slave hunt in the Dismal 
Swamp, nor is it probably in the power of that 
State to capture or expel these Fugitives from it. 
This may appear extravagant. But when it is 
known how long a much less numerous band of 
Indians held the everglades of Florida against the 
forces of the United States, and how much blood 
and treasiu'e it cost to expel them finally, we may 
find a sufficient reason for the forbearance of the 
Ancient Dominion towards this community of 

148 TIIK l.lllKUTV IIKI.K. 

Fugitives, (loiaic'iliatt'(l in the'u- niidst. Fioiu tin.' 
character of the population it is rca.sonable to iiifcr 
that the United States Marshal has never charfed 


himself with the duty of taking the census of the 
swamp, and we can only estimate the amount of 
pupulatiiin by sucli circumstances as may serve to 
indicate it. Of these, perhaps tlie trade existing 
betweeu tliu city uf Norfolk and the Swamp may 
furnish the best element of computation. A canal, 
of which General Washington was one of the pro- 
jectors, traverses lengthwise through the Swamp, 
and connects the waters of the Chesapeake with 
those of Albemarle Sound in North Carolina. 
Alon" the line of this canal are located a rough 
set of traders, whose entii-e trade is with the 
Mai'oons of the Swamp. These Sicamp mer- 
chants oljtain their supplies and convey the 
produce of the Swamp, principally if not entii-ely, 
to Norfolk. The articles which the negi'oes re- 
q^uire are, for the most part, salted provisions, 


Indian com, coarse cloths and tools ; and what 
they furnish in payment are chiefly staves and 

Thus has been established a trade between 
Norfolk and the Fugitives, which is wliolly contra- 
band, and whicli would subject the white partici- 
pants in it to fearful penalties, if they could only 
be enforced. For, throughout the Slave States, it is 
an offence by law, of the gravest character, to have 
any dealings whatever with runaway negroes ; but 
"you no catch 'em, you no hab 'em," is emphati- 
cally true in the Dismal Swamp, where trader and 
runaway are alike beyond the reach of Virginia 
law. An intelligent merchant of near thirty years' 
business, in Norfolk, estimated the value of Slave 
property lost in the Swamp, at one and a half mil- 
lion dollars. This, at the usual rate of Slave 
valuation, would give near forty thousand as the 
population of the Swamp, — an estimate, I appre- 
hend, q^uite too large, as it probably exceeds the 

150 TIIK MliDltTV UKLL. 

iiumlicT of Fugitives now dwelling iii :ill the free 
Stales, iuckuling those of Canada also. 

Be this as it may, however, the main [wints of 
interest seem to he suffieiently established, which 
arc these ; that a jiermanent free population of 
very considerable amount, consisting of those who 
fled from Slavery, and their descendants, have 
established themselves, with entire security, in the 
largest slaveholding State of the South ; that 
though subject, doubtless, to poverty and many 
privations, they obtain a living, are increasing, and 
that, through their efforts, and the ordinance of 
nature, they have established a city of refuge in 
the midst of Slavery, which has endured from 
generation to generation, and is likely to contiuue 
until- Slavery is abolished throughout the land. A 
curious anomaly this community certainly presents, 
and its history and destiny are alike suggestive of 
cm'iosity and interest. 

It is Avorthy of note, too, in these days of 
political agitation, that these poor Fugitives of 


A'u'giuia should, long ago, have practically realized 
the doctrine of a modern political party, succc^ss- 
fully established its principles, and made this 
Swamp, Dismal liy nature as name, the <>nly 
■'free soil" in all these United States, and the 
(july ground, if such it may lie called, which has 
never yet been, and, we tliink. never will lie, 
polluted by the track of the Slave-hunter. 

Boston, September. 1851. 

152 TUK l.lllKinV UKl.l. 



• Viuipanifn of I'lurkson iiiij \VilV>crforcf, iu their hiVir- Pt ihf 
Alxilition of Slavery. 


TuY fume sluill conquer Time ! 

Wliere Knowledge jokes her rm\ 
Where Science wings sublime 

Her tiiglit from star to star, 
Wherever Wisdom's foot hath been, 
Tlie traces of thy i)ath are seen I 

Yet not that titles proud 

Thy dignities confessed, 
Thouiih kind's before thee bowed. 

And emperors round thee pressed. 


Though great and crowned ones of earth 
Paid willing homage to thy worth ; 

And not that Science wreathed 

Her laurels round thy brow. 
Thy simple name is breathed 

With love and reverence now ; 
For higher, holier things than these, 
True Faith and world-wide Charities ! 

For wanderings through all lands 

Thy succor to impart, 
To loose the fettered hands, 

And cheer the captive's heart ; 
For enterprise whence Howard won 
The noblest name beneath the sim ; 

For zealous struggles made 

By no self-interest fii-ed, 
x\gainst the accursed trade 

Which avarice inspii-ed ; 


For reaily voice and huiul coinljiiKil 
To chock tlic tnillic of tliy Icind ! 

For thix in palaco-liall, 

Ami in the prisoner's cell, — 

For //(/*■ wlicre Slaves lot fall 
The severed manacle. 

Wherever Christian souls unite. 

And F^-eedoni sheds her lioly light. 

Be praise and honor tliine, 

Wl>o, when tliy task was done, 

Wert willing to resign 

The glories thou hadst won, 

And only courting prince and peer. 

To give thy work a wider sphere I 

Prefen-ing to the end 
Thy lowly, calm retreat. 

Where now and then, the friend 
And favored guest might meet, 


Tu take witli thee thy quiet round 
Through cottage-gate and garden-ground I 

To wander by thy side 

Amid thy clustering flowers, 

The pleasm-e and the pride 
Of peaceful summer-hours, 

< )r through thy wondrous glass descry 

The midnight heaven's fair pageantry. 

Or trace from room to room 

In choicest order set, 
Round types or desk or loom 

Thy well-trained scholars met. 
Acquiring each some trade or art, 
With God's best lessons for the heart. 

True follower of thy Lord ! 

In every difFeriug sect 
Thy memory shall be stored 

With favor, love, respect I 


•rilK hlllEKTY ItKl.l,. 

Wliat matter wlicre on earth tijoy meet, 
^VIll. keep so close to Jksus' feet I 

M«v. 1846. 


C'CSsclanagc auv Qjtats-Unis, ct I'drtpa- 
sitiou lie I'onbrcs. 

P A 11 M . V I C T O K S C H (E L C H E R . 

La grande exposition f[ui vicnt dc s'ouri'ir 
a Londres est, sans contredit, I'nn dcs faits les 
plus notables de notre epocjue. Ce coneoiu-s 
indnstriel de tons les peuples de la terre est lenr 
premier rapprochement dans une pcusee nnitaire 
et commune ; un acte, en quelrpc sorte, de federa- 
tion universelle. Au point de vuc philosophique. 
comme au point de vue commercial, quoi de plus 
interessant (|ue cette reunion des oeuvi'es manufac- 
turees des quatres parties du monde ? II faudra 

examiner, non seulement les objets produits, mais 


eiicoro les nio^'on.s ei)i|iloyus pour produux-. 
Quello l>elle L-tiiile ii fairo sur la couilition lies 
tiavuilleurs du globe cntier ! 

Trop souveiit une richesse apparente cache 
ilV'pouvantables iniseres sociales : nous n'en vou- 
l ns d'autre cxeniple que celui qu'offriront les 
Etats du Sud de I'lTnion Aniencaine. Que ces 
Etat.s envoient a Londres un ecliantillon dc leur.- 
dlffjrentcs industries, ct Ton aura le tableau coui- 
plet de leurs mu-urs ; a cute de leurs magnifiques 
colons et de lours beaux sucres on aura, sous les 
yeiix, les liideux specimens des fouets a nceuds 
tresses, des careans, des pesantes cbaines, et des 
C'jlliers a lon<iiios branches de fer ct a oi-clots, 
avec lesijuels ils obtiennent le travail de leurs 
TROis MILLIONS d'csclaves. Oui, il n'est que 
trop Ttai, voila conune est traitee une classe dutor- 
mint'G de travailleurs par la grande Eepublique de 
TAmerique du Nord. Oui, aux esclaves qui se 
sont echappc's, et que Ton rt-prend, il y a des 
maitres (et ces honuiios-l:i se disent republicains I) 

l'esclavage aux etats-uxis. 159 

<|ui mettcnt cles colliers cle fcr, aniies de longuc- 
brandies, au bout cles c|uellcs sont parfois attaches 
des grelots. Lorsquc Ic malhcureux, soumis au 
travail force, toujours aA'ide de liberte, s'evade de 
nouveau, ct va demauder un asyle aus solitudes 
des bois, les branches dc fer de Thorriljlc collier so 
prenant dans les lianes peuvent eutraver sa fuite; 
et le bruit des grelots, au moindre mouvement qu'il 
fait, sert h mettre le chasseur sur ses traces. 

Visiteurs de I'Exposition de Londres, allez done 
an fond des ehoses, et, avant d'admirer telle ou 
telle merveille de ractivite humaine, etalee sous vos 
yens,' demandez si les bras qui I'ont fabriquee sout 
libres. Le triomphe de la mecanique dans une 
soeiete bien organisee, est de mettre au service de 
tons une force nouvclle destiuee a augnienter le 
bien-etre de chacun. Le genie uidustriel moderne; 
en multipliant les produits, en abaissant leur val- 
eur, et en diminuant la peine de I'ouvrier, n'a pas 
d'autrc but. L'esclavage, qui fait de Thommeune 
machine soufFrante eu violation de toutes les lois 

I'" THE lu!i:i;tv uell. 

ccuuuuiii|ue.s ot sofiiile!«, est done a la fuLs uue 
insulte :i la raisuu, une offense a la vertu, et un 
attentat coatie riiumanltc'. 

Peut-ctre nieuie eut-11 ete iliicne de TAnscleterre, 
ijui a taut fait puiir rabolitlon de la .><ervitiide, 
d'cxL-lure Je rexpusition uuiverselle tout produit 
dii travail esclave V II y aiiiait cu, dans cette 
fletrissiuv, un acte de haute moralite, un noble 
homnuxge rendu li la civilization du 10™ siecle I 
Que toutcs les nations niettent les Etats-UuLs au 
ban de TErn'Ope taut qu'ils garderont des esclaves, 
et ils coniprendront peut-Gtre, a la fin, qu'ils 
deshonorent leur titrc de republicaLus I 

Et vous, nobles et lutrepides al-tolitionistes de 
rAnii'riijue du Nord, perseverez I oai* c'est un 
inunense danger pour I'idee deiuoeratique, dans le 
present et dans Taveuir, (^ue le pcuple dOnioerate 
par excellence possede des esclaves ! Perseverez, 
ear toute une race d'hommes, sordidement, cruelle- 
nient exploitce par ceux d'une rt'publi(jue, est le 
spectacle le plus odieux, le plus fuueste, cj[ue fut 

l'esclavage aux etats-unis. 161 

jamais ! Perseverez, car roppression cl'un seul 
homme est un crime commis envers le geuve 
humaine tout entier ! Perseverez, car tenir 
rhomnie en servitude c'est le faire desceudre au 
rang des animaux, c'est I'avilLr jusqu'a I'etat des 
brutes, c'est I'assimiler au betail ! Perseverez, 
car les soldats de la liberie centre l'esclavage ce 
sent les soldats de la justice centre Tinjustice. du 
progres contre la barbaric, de I'esprit contre la 
matiere, du droit contre la force, du bien contre le 
mal ! Perseverez, car c'est vous f|ui sauverez 
rhonneui" politique de votre nation aux yevix de la 
pbilosophie, de I'histoire, et de la posterite ! 

Quant a vous, Amc^ricains, possesseurs d'eselaves, 
citoyens d'une Kepublique, homines glorieux avaut 
tons du titre d'liomnies libres, nous vous le 
demandons, repondez .... N'est ce pas la plus 
revoltante des contradictions que de vous voir- 
ti-aiter des creatures bumaines comme des animaux 
domestiques '( . . . de les vendre et de les revendre 



coimue (les bestiuux, le pere a un maitiv, le fils a 
uii aiitn", la mere :i la Nuuvelle Orleans, la fille a 
Charleston ; de les faUe travailler eomme les che- 
vaux iViinc iisine et les ba'ufs d'un ferme h coups 
tie fouet ; ile les cliasser, comme du gibier, (|uand 
ils s'echappcut ; de de'fendi'e de leoi- apprcndre ii 
lire, pour qu'ils rcstent abrutis ; de ne lem- laisser, 
enlin, ni patric, ni fauiille, ni propriete. 

Ilonte et uialheiu- au peuple (^ui commit vo- 
loutau'cmcnt, seiemment, d'aussi monstreuses 
iniquites ! 

Grand et puissant peuple Americain, reviens a 
toi, nous t'en conjurons au nom sacre de la 
democratic que tu as eu la gloLre de fonder 
d'une maniere dm-able ! Delivre les pauvrcs 
negi'cs asservis qui soufFrent dans leur ame 
et dans leur corps ! Songes, songes-y ; en 
Europe les ennemis de la libei-te se servent 
du deplorable exemple des Etats-Unis poiu- de- 
precier les principes republicaius. Ne Toublie 

l'esclavage aux etats-uxis. 1G3 

pas, lis (lisent tons, que Ton est mfil-vcnu a sapcr 
les monarcliies, quancl on volt rAuKJiique tlu Xord 
tolerei" riufumc institutiou de resclavage sur son 
territoirc ! 

Paris, Mai, 1851. 


r^mcriiau lilancrii, anti tl)c iJoiiLiou 

BY M . VICTOR S C U (E L C H E n , 
Member of the Assembly. 

TuE great Exhibition which lias just been open- 
ed in London is, beyond contradiction, one of the 
most memorable facts of our epoch. This indus- 
trial conjn'ess of all the nations of the earth is their 
first approach to\\'ards the reception of a unitiu-y 
and common idea ; an act, in some sort, of univer- 
sal federation. In a philosophical, as well as in a 
commercial pi/uit of view, what more interesting 
than this assemblage of the manufactures of the 
four (piarters of the world V We should examine 


not merely the objects produced, but also the means 
used to produce them. How fah- the opportunity 
for the study of the condition of the laborers of 
the cntu'c globe ! 

Too often apparent wealth conceals frightful 
social miseries. "We wish for no other proof of this 
than the one which the Southern States of the 
American Union will afford. Let these States but 
send to London a specimen of their varied industry, 
and we shall have a joerfect picture of their man- 
ners. Alongside of then- magnificent cottons and 
beautiful sugars we shall have, before our eyes, 
hideous specimens of whips with knotted thongs, of 
iron collars, of heavy chains, and of collars with 
long spikes of iron, and little bells appended, by 
means of which they obtain the labor of their 
THREE MILLIONS of Slavcs. Ycs, it is too true, 
thus is used a determinate class of laborers by the 
gTcat Republic of North America ! Yes, there arc 
masters (and men who call themselves repub- 
licans I) who fasten ii'ou collars, armed with long 



spikes, sometimes with little Lells attached to thcni, 
about the necks of their recaptured runaways I 
When the wretched victim of involuntary toil, ever 
greedy of liberty, e.«capes anew, and seeks an 
asylum in the solitudes of the forests, the iron 
prongs of the horrible collar, cutcliing in the climb- 
ing-plants, embarrass Ids flight, while the tinkling 
of the little bolls, at his every movement, serves to 
put the hunter upon his track I 

Visitors of the London Exliibition search these 
things to the bottom, and, before admu-inn: this 
or that marvel of human industi-y, spread out 
before youi- eyes, ask whether the arms that made 
them are free. The triumph of mechanics, in a 
well organised society, is tu place at the service of 
all a new force, intended to increase the well-beins: 
of each individual. The industrial genius of 
modern times has no other end than this, when it 
multiplies production, lowers prices, and diminishes 
the toil of the artisan. Slavery, which makes man 
a suffering machine, in violation of all economical 


and social laws, is at once au insult to reason, an 
offence to virtue, and an outrage upon humanity. 

Perhaps, even, it had been worthy of England, 
that has done so much for the abolition of Slavery, 
to exclude from the Universal Exhibition every 
production of Slave labor. This vrithering rebuke 
would have l)ecn an act of lofty morahty, a noble 
homage paid to the civilization of the nineteenth 
century. Let all the nations put the United States 
under the ban of Europe, as long as they hold 
Slaves, and perhaps they will discover at length 
that they dishonor their title of republicans I 

And you, noble and intrepid band of Abolition- 
ists of Xorth America, persevere ! for it is an incal- 
culable danger to the democratic idea, both now 
and hereafter, that the most democratic people 
existing should be the holders of Slaves I Perse- 
vere ; for the spectacle of an entire race of men 
crushed, basely, craelly, by the men of a republic 
is the most odious, the most fatal ever be- 
held ! Persevere ; for the oppression of a single 


man is a crime against the win Jo human race I 
l'er.sL'vore ; fur to lioM man in Slavery is to n-duce 
him tu the rank uf the anunals, to degi-ade him to 
the condition of the l)rutes, to place him on a level 
with cuttle I Persevere ; for the soldiers of liberty 
against Slavery are the soldiers of justice against 
injustice, of progress against barbarism, of mind 
against matter, of right against violence, of good 
against evil I Persevere ; fur it is you tliat will 
.-ave the political honor of your nation in the eyes 
of jjhilosophy, of history, and of posterity I 

As to you, Americans, owners of Slaves, men 
boasting above all things of your ntimc of freemen, 
answer us this question : Is it not the most revolt- 
ing of contradictions to see you treat human crea- 
tures like domestic animals '! To sell them over and 
over again, like beasts, the father to one master, the 
son to another ; the mother to New Orleans, the 
daughter to Charleston ; to make them work like 
horses in a mill and i>xen on a farm, under the whip ; 
to hunt them like game when they escape ; to forbid 


tlicni to learn to read, that they may remain em- 
brutecl ; to allow them, finally, to have neither 
country, nor family, nor property ? 

Shame and woe to the people that commits 
voluntarily, knowingly, such mou.strous iniquities ! 

Great and mighty American nation, come to 
th3'self ! We conjure thee, by the sacred name 
of that democracy which thou hast had the glory 
permanently to estaljlish, free those poor enslaved 
negroes, suffering in soul and in body ! Think, 
think of this, too, — the enemies of liberty in 
Europe make use of the lamentable example of 
the United States to depreciate republican princi- 
ples. "Forget not," they all exclaim, "how 
ill-advised it is to sap the foujidations of monarchy, 
when ye see North America permit the infamous 
institution of Slaveiy to exist upon her soil ! " 

ParL':, May, 18.51. 




BY H \V A U D \V . O I L B E E T . 

TiiE waiting nation to the truth to win 

How easy, hadst thou had that purpose vast I 
Willing had then with thee the people cast 

Their kit, and on the future entered in. 

Then far above the world's ignoble dm. 

In heights where ucvennore a place thou hast. 
Within that deepening night, the solemn past, 

Thy name an over-beaming star had been ! 

Thou did.-^t prefer the empty clamor loud, 
Of iguurauce and baseness meanly boru, 

SONNET. 171 

And to thy fall thy princely head hast bowed, 
Like Lucifer, the glorious star of morn ! 

Therefor thou hast the applauses of the crowd, 
And of the noble, — deep, undying scorn ! 

I'ennsylvanJa, September, 18C>1. 

172 Till:; MIIKKTY BKLL. 

" Kulla ticstiqia rctrorsum." 


Tin.-: has been a favorite (|aotation with Mr. 
Webster since his defection to the ShivehoKlers, the 
seventh of March of last year. lie has taken 
much pains to keep the country assured that he is 
resolute m his treachery, and has no purpose of 
repentance. In the thick gloom of his uwu laiad 
and conscience, induced liy the commission of a 
great crime, and which, he seems to fancy, simulta- 
neously ob.scures the whole face of nature, he 
thinks it nece.ssary every now and tlien to halloo, 
to let ''the rest of mankind" know that he is 
travelling straight on with no steps backwards ; 


while, as often, he encoiu-agos himself by an audible 
proclamation, that it is or soon will be clay-break. 
He repeats his protestations ihat he will adhere to 
the Union, till all nervous and impressible people 
feel the Union tottering and shaking. It is impos- 
sible for any person oven of steady nerves to listen 
to his solemn and eloquent asseverations, that he 
will never desert the Union, and not feel that the 
Union is not, has not been, or may not be in immi- 
nent peril ; just as it is impossible, in hearing I^Irs. 
IMieawber tearfully and frantically exclaim, that 
she ''will never desert Mr. Micawher,'' not to 
believe, that that devoted lady did not suspect, 
that the crisis might sometime occur in her domestic 
life, when such elopement would be both necessary 
and prudent. 

However, let us take Mr. Webster's assurance 
that he will take no step backward, if not on the 
faith of his words, on the faith of the philosophy 
of things. While there are no acts, however 

trivial, that can bo wholly wndono by any repara- 

174 TIIK l.inKTtTY KKLL. 

tion or rfjicntauco, thfic are certain great 
doliljerate actions which done once are done 
forever. Their cnn.<e(^uences follow and roll down 
even through tlie eternities, a chain whose accumu- 
lated weight drags the soul, in whidi these actions 
werc'iuce mere thoughts, into unfathoinahle depths. 
It is the hopeful thouglit of the child, that every 
broken thing, even a liroken Sahhath, can be 
mended ; but furtlier on in life he learns, that the 
number of irreparable and forlorn articles and 
wares, past all tinkering, multiply on every hand, 
in the moral as well as the natural sphere. The 
truth is, Mr. Webster cannot get back. That whole 
matter lies wholly now out of the scope of his will 
and choice. Robespierre could as easily have 
stopped the cart that was trundling him to the 
guillotine, and turned into vivas and benedictions 
the execrations that hissed upon him from every 
window and door of Paris, as could Mr. "Webster, 
after the fatal ides of March, recover hiri position as 
the acknowledged leader of the hosts of Freedom, 


disputing inch by inch this American soil witli the 
victorious forces of Slavery. 

Of the vanquished angels, Milton sings that 
they were nine clays falling into hell. Scientific 
experiments have demonstrated that the velocity of 
falling bodies accumulates in a certain ratio of the 
distances. Had this ■' law of physical geogTaphy " 
been enacted at so early a date, and been executed 
in those distant regions, it is to be believed that 
along in the afternoon of the ninth day, these ti'av- 
ellers must have been journeying at a very tele- 
graphic rate. Still it is not to be doubted that, 
had Milton'ri hero been met about that time, his 
hair and beard piilling oiF at a very sharp tangent 
behind, he would have had the efFrontery to make 
a show of getting on voluntarily, and sufficient 
presence of mind to coin from a future classic the 
brave words, — " Nulla vestigia retrorsum.^' 

From so great a treacheiy as that of the seventh 
of March there are no back tracks. There is the 
old Miltonian, telegraphic, nine days route, and a 

170 iiii: i.iinnirv ukll. 

^iillc path by which Jiuia.-, who repented, betook 
himself tu the galluws. The .suveiith uf March 
belongs to history. Ili-stmy will not have her 
uuitierf brukeu ui upuu by the Incguhirily uf 
repeatauecs. She will round her tragedy to its 
uatu.strophe, and make her lessons intelligible and 
unpre.ssive. The whole transaction is worth inli- 
nitely more as a moral illustration than is Mr. 
Webhter's con.-istenoy, — perhaps, than is Mr. Web- 
ster's soul. These great rascalities are not without 
their office in the cultiu-e of the world, though the 
poor .soul, who has that rvh to play, gets terrifically 
used up. There was the hint of a profound 
philosophy, as well as a pathos, in the .■itateuient of 
the ragged and dilapidated wretch, who said, 
" My brother goes round lecturing on Intemper- 
ance, and I go with him as an aic/iiI example.'^ 
Since he will not, and if he knew it, cannot go 
back, let us grant ]Mr. Webster permission to make 
a virtue of going on, nor deny liim the of 
consistent and continued wickedness. For Mac- 


l)etla or Richard to sjieak in tlieii* last days into 
repentance, might have helped them and theii- 
destiny amazingly ; but it would have completely 
spoiled them as characters, and would have made 
them too contemptible for Shakspeare to notice, or 
the world to remember. 

There is another perquisite, to which our fallen 
statesman is fairly entitled, and that is, the whole 
complement of reputation and glory, which comes 
to him from the Ijad public sentiment of to-day. 
The laudations of all the time-serving journals ; 
the confidence which he has secured in all places 
where merchants most do congregate — good to him 
for as many dotations as the esigencies of his 
private and public housekeeping may require ; and 
the clerical epistles, which go far towards vouching 
him into the kingdom of heiiven ; are all portions of 
his fee, and must not be grudged or withheld. 
He is not a man of refined and subtile ambition. 
His very sensualism is not of the epicurean cast 
that baits itself with preliminary abstinence and 


ik'uial, tliat cIu'o-^l-s out of all the futuro tlie goMcii 
laoment of imlulgeiieo, wlicn all the aiispico.s are the 
best, ami .-ips Icismvly ami half intellectually the sparkle uf iutuxieatioii. Like a halt-giuwii 
boy, he wants his iliuner, and he wants it now. 
His o:i";autie intellect is bedded in a hunu;ry, voia- 
oious body, and owes half its vigor to the amount 
of provender, with which it must be ever and anon 
stimulated. He is a powerful steam<'ngine, whose 
vast forces must be constantly wooded xip with an 
incredilde amount of fuel. The practical difficulty, 
which his employers have oftcnest met, is precisely 
the same that, in Dr. Lardner's opinion, would 
forever prevent the success of ocean steam naviga- 
tion — to make him carry coal enough for his own 
consuinptiun. Boston and New York have gener- 
ally been the principal coal depots for him, and 
more than once his chief engineers, particularly 
through all the stress of the late political bad 
weather, have l)eat up State and Wall Streets to 
the tuue of '' icood up,'" — the " Daniel Webster " 


Ijnng forlorn on some snnd bar, or chopping liolp- 
lessly in mid ocean in the trougli of the sea. 

To a mind so organized, the noio is every- 
thing. Date heaven or hell day after to-morrow 
and the}" cease to influence him. Like the old 
Hebrew king, he i« entu-ely satisfied so the evil 
comes not in his day. Reputation to hmi is real 
and tangible. Can he not hear it in the street, 
and read it in this morning's newspaper 'i As for 
Fame, it is a fancy, a visionary conjecture, a j^ost 
mortem adjunct of his name, that he would take as 
little pains to provide, as he would legacies for his 

In figures of speech, he encounters persecution, 
he goes to the stake, he dies as many deaths as did 
Paul, all for conscience sake. But all this is done 
rhetorically and vicariously. His own skin is un- 
seratched. He continues to lodge well, to travel 
well, eat and drink well, while all this Pickwickian 
maceration is going on. In any other sense, he is 
utterly incapable of such self-sacrifice. The times 


never have deiuamleil it of liiiii. TTi-avon in kind 
oonsidoration of his infirnutios never laid such 
terrible crosses in his path. History never selected 
him to adorn her martyr sr-aff >lds, or <^\vq his mag- 
nificent head U< grace the point of a pike or the 
top iif a gate j)0st, the victim of anarchy or 
tyranny. His very friends, who now lament his 
sliding, a.s it were by dead weight, from the posi- 
tion where the best virtue of the nation ha<l jtlaced 
and held him, never expected of him anytliing liut 
a decent regard for his ovni character, a most 
worldly and prudent calculation of the main 
chance, and sufficient discretion to keep him from 
battering his head against a post. To predicate 
such a man's decisions and actions upon the higlier 
attriV>utes of a moral nature. up<>n religious 
instincts, or religioixs culture, is finding in them an 
element, of which his own expositions and extenua- 
tions of his conduct are singularly destitute. Save 
in its mere shell and mechanism, its ritual and 
legalism, those ideas of it, which seize first upon 


o-rossci" souls, Mr. Webster never recoOTizes 

o ■ o 


It may not be too mucli to say further, that a 
more controlling motive for the great apostacy was 
still lower than a desire of the reputation of having 
done a conspicuous and consequential act, namely, 
the expectation of the immediate reward of the 
act. It was not enough to have saved the Union. 
There was a pressure of competition in the same 
enterprise. No mob of Barnegat wi'eekers ever 
rushed so peJl mell to save a valuable ship and 
cargo, as did all denominations of American patri- 
ots to save the Union. The newspapers have not 
settled down upon the hero of the act yet. Cass 
and Buchanan, Clay and Fillmore, New York 
Herald, Boston Courier, Commissioner Ingi-aham. 
Commissioner Curtis, in fine everybody else, had 
their hands in the great salvation. In any admi- 
ralty court the salvage must go into such small 
shares as to be beneath the acquisitiveness of Mr. 

Webster. It was not enough to have the genius of 


Till-: I.IliKUTY HEI.L. 

Listury t^Umd :it his sitlu ami ijuictl}- \vllispc^, as 
slie iloes auililily c-iinugli tu suijie of u.s, " No 
niatler who gLls the name or tho pay of it — voi' 

DID IT, AND VOL' ALONK I " Ho Waut.S U hi^ill, a 

token to .show to the men in the street. He wishes 
to have it coiunion talk in all the bar-rooms of the 
lanil. What is it to him what opiniiin.s the English, 
Turks, or Chinese of next century may entertain 
of his worth or works. He eschews the criticisms 
of posterity and tlemancls that his case !>'hould go 
to the jury now sworn upon the panel. He 
requires that the salary, the offiee and the state of 
the chief magistracy shall place him aliove all his 
peers, and make the eyes of all the i:>eople stick 
out with admiration of his dignity and greatness. 

Not attaining the presidency ]Mr. AN'eh-tcr will 
be ill used. That the Slavery-usui'pation has fauly 
fortiUed it.self in the natinnal government and 
obtained the forms of law under which men and 
women may bo haled to prison as traitors for their 
Christian faith, that New 3Iexico and the terri- 


tories lie open to tlic cliaiu gangs of Slaves and 
their drivers. Old Mexico to successive Slavehold- 
Ing revolutions and annexations, and the whole 
North even to the very centres of its Anti-Slavery 
temples and cities of refuge to the incursions of 
the "Hunters of men,'' is due first, second, and 
third to Dami:l Webster. If the maxim ''Detiir 
dkjniori'" is to govern, Mr. Webster should have 
the presidency. The Abolitionists of America 
will cordially unite in giving him this certificate, a 
far more efficacious electioneering document, I 
doubt not, than the abortive siihscription paper 

Let Mr. Webster have his fees, his praise, his 
presidency, and do not postpone his overpowering 
claims. Since he is to be rewarded in this world, 
biing quickly his diadem and royal robe and .set 
him on his throne, and when he speaks, let the 
whole multitude give a shout saying, "It is the 
voice of a God and not of a man." Let this 
nation make haste to honor him and set upon hira 


thii seal uf ivuuwii, for DciitU vvalLs uii the verge of 
Age to haul him over to the critieLsius of Ili.story. 
lli^i^tury i.s not in the interest of Slaveholders, 
trailer.";, or panle makers. She (juietly overlooks 
flieir furgerle.s and blots thcu* irapo.sturej:. She 
hues .seen Unions in danger before, and great men 
under the pressure of mean fear or hungry amhi- 
tion compromising justice and denying right ; but 
never yet the occasion where the Supreme llight- 
eoUffUess, that sometimes has laid great trials and 
sore toils upon human shoulders, gives indulgence, 
for the emergency, to set aside the Higher Laxo. 

Ri-it MiichiuiJ, Mo., OctoU-r, I80I. 

■ 185 



A mind determined to be strong 

Must labor hard and labor long. 

Must seek in Nature's wide domain 

The Truth that o'er his heart shall reign. 

Some noble object to engage 

His early years and downward age ; 

For man without some grand pursuit, 

Is little raised above the brute. 

If honest in his chosen aim, 

All selfish end he will disclaim, 

And, steering onward for the right. 

Will soon discern the beacon light 


That, from the oreaii waste before, 
Shall luiii^ him to some peaceful shore. 

N(.>w Ik-UfurJ, MuiW., Soptouiber, 1851. 


Scumour (Eunnutigljam ; or, :^ll for 


•' Skin for skin : yea, all that a man hath will he give for his " freedom. 

The cii'eumstances stated in the following pages 
Sire facts, wliicli occurred in Boston about twenty- 
five years ago. They were well known to many 
persons at that time, and, probably, some of the 
witnesses are yet living. Soon after their occur- 
rence, the story was published in the " New Eng- 
land Galaxy." Some who then read it have 
probably forgotten it, and many of the present 
generation have never seen it ; to all such it will 
have the interest of novelty. It is now re-written, 


with a few sliglit variations in phra.scologj', and is 
offered as a oontriliutiou to the contents of the 
Liberty Bell, where, if accepted by the editors, it 
will exhibit a striking illustration of an irrepressible 
desire for freedom from Slavery, — an undaunted 
resolution to recover it, — and unflinching finnness 
under the process of personal mutilation, to secure 
that natural inalienable privilege of humanity. 

It was in the beginning of the year 1827, that a 
collection of people, chiefly colored, and surround- 
ing a young man of rather a dark complexion, — 
but not darker than many that one may meet in 
daily intercomse with the world, — was noticed in 
one of the public streets of Boston. A very 
natural curiosity induced one of the ob.servers to 
ask, "What is the matter ? " To which a white 
man, who seemed to be somewhat active in the 
crowd, replied, "That villain denies tliat he is a 
Slave ; and these black rascals are disposed to 
resist the civil authority, and attempt to rescue 
him." " Why, how i;5 this," said another, "the 


man is as white as wc are, and wby should the 
blacks take more interest in the fellow than you 
or I ? He appears to have more white than black 
blood in his body." 

Common interest, or sympathy, or euriotity, soon 
increased the motley assemblage, and induced 
them to accompan}^ the alleged Slave to the office 
of a magistrate, to which the ao-ent of the owner 
was taking him, to procure a warrant for his 
" extradition." The magistrate was the late 
Zaehariah G. Whitman, son of Judge Benjamin 
Whitman, both well known in the community. On 
examination, the accused answered to the name of 
Seymoiu- Cunningham, and claimed to be a free 
man. The agent, who had travelled five hundi-ed 
miles to secure him, asserted that he was a well- 
known Slave, whose owner lived in Alexandria. 
It soon appeared that, whether a Slave or a free 
man, Cunningham was a fine, smart, intelligent 
fellow, and really worth hunting through half a 
dozen States, as a subject for speculation. The 

!!•(( Tin: i,ii;i:i;tv uki.i.. 

only moral taint that appoaroil in his character was 
his aboniiiialilu wickt'dne.^s in rinming away. But 
as one sin is no .sooner born than it Ijegets 
anothir, Cunningham ilouied that he wa.s a Slave, 
and buldly as-crted (fal.-cly, as it appeared,) that, 
tliough lio had once been a Slave, he had obtained 
hi.s freedom, and had a certificate of the fact. The 
agent, with eipial couGdence, denied tlie esi.^-tence 
of an}' .siicli cortilicate. The magistrate rcque.sted 
Cunningham to produce it. He replied that it wa.s 
too valuable to be earned in his pocket ; but one 
of his fnend,s, whom he named, knew where it wa.?, 
and could produce it in five minutes. Accordingly, 
in a few minutes, the document was brought into 
court, and the triumph of humanity, in .^pite of 
colur, was vl-ible in every black man's countenance. 
A murmur van through the court-room, that 
Seymour was a free man ; and the magistrate him- 
self manifested a keen .-^ense of gratification at the 
prospect of Cunningham's becoming liis own 


" Lot me see the certificate," mxid the agent. 

It was handed to him. He examined it with an 
incredulous minuteness, and then returned it to the 
magistrate, putting himself in the position of a 
man sure of his object. " Wh}', may it please 
your honor,"' Si^id he, "this is a good certificate; 
I know the signature is genuine ; but this certifi- 
cate does not belong to this man. This Slave's 
name is not Seymour. Kc has a brother who 
looks very much lil^c him, who is free, and this is 
his certificate, which has been stolen or borrowed 
by tliis impudent Slave to iinpo.-e it on the court as 
his own. But I can detect liim. His brother 
fought in the army, during the last war, and is 
covered with scars. His right arm was broken by 
a gTape-shot ; his little finger of the rigiit hand was 
shot off; his left leg was broken, and the calf of 
the other shot away ; and he has no middle toe on 
the right foot. All these particulars, your honor 
maj^ see, are stated in the certificate, and were there 
inserted in honor of the real Seymour's bravery 

lf'2 TMK i,iiii:i;iv i.i.i.i.. 

and scrvke.^. But as fur tlii.-; follow, lie know.'; lie 
is a Shivc. ('imnin2;hani." Cf-ntinucd tlic aircnt. 
''how dare j'on deny that you are a Slave '? " 

" Wi'll, Cunningham," said the magistrate, 
•' what do you say to this ? " 

"Say, sir? I Ea}- that I am a free man. and 
this inhuman nion&ter wants to kidnap me, and soil 
me for a Slave. But thi'? certificate, which has 
cost me lilood from every part of ni}' Lody. ouglit 
to redeem the little black blood which does not fill 
two of my veins. I suffered all for freedom, and 
thought tliis certificate had purified me of all 
African taint. I am the true Seymour Cunning- 
ham. Examine me ; and if you do not find that I 
conform in every particular to the certificate, then 
deliver me over to this monster, who scents a drop 
of bhick blood at the distance of five hiuidred 

Cunningham then raised his right hand, and lo I 
his little finger was gi mo. He rolled up his panta- 
loons, and there were the true marks of a broken 


leir. as testified liy a sur2;eon who was in the court- 
room. lie then toolc off liis coat, rolled up lii? 
shirt-sleeve, and presented his arm to the surgeon, 
who pronounced the scars those of a compound 
fracture. He next bared liis right leg to the view 
of the magistrate, and the calf thereof was want- 
ing. Lastly, he took off his boot and stocking, 
and behold I the middle toe was gone ! 

The scene was now quite pleasant. The colored 
spectators manifested their satisftiction by showing 
their teeth and rolling up the whites of their eyes. 
Their full hearts opened all their mouths, so that 
clusters of pearls enlightened the dusky court- 
room ; and the contrast of so many white teeth and 
irradiated eyes, sparkling like diamonds among so 
many sable faces, was really picturesque. Columns 
of pearl and jet, and jet and pearl, alternated like 
the shows in a magic glass. But the triumph of 
humanity was brief — short as a solitary gleam of 
the sun during a week of foul weather. The 


uiaglstrutc, it is true, seeiueJ to ho conviiiecil, ami 
tiu'uiuir to thu airout, said, — 

•"You have c-k'JU'ly niistakeu your nuiu, and it 
gives luf pli-asuru to discluirgc him. Seymour 
('uuniugbam, you arc a free " 

•■ B}- no means,'' interrupted tlie agent. ' I 
have just arrived from Alexandria, where I left 
Seymour Cunningham, the true owner of this cer- 
titieate, a true, real, living man. I will i-i iil and 
pi'oduee the real Sejniiour, if yoiu' honor will <^>uly 
commit this impostor to gaol in the meantime. It 
is incomprehensible to me how tlie m;iu can Le so 
depraved as to deny that he has always been a 

At the pressing request of the agent, Cunning- 
ham was committed to gaol to await further 

In the mean time, the real facts of this mysteri- 
ous affair began to be whispered about, and 
gradually the whole scheme was exposed. The 
people of color, in Boston, considering that the 


wliito people woulil not acknowledge Cunningham 
as one of their species, — altliough he was really 
of a lighter complexion than some of them, — 
called a convention, and passed sundry resolutions 
to protect him, in consideration of the small por- 
tion of African blood which ran in liis veins. One 
of these resolutions Vv'as rather cliaractcristic and 
peculiar: — 'It is not a black face that co)isti- 
tufes a negro, — hut a black heart." To sliow 
himself worthy of the friendship of these people, 
Cunningham produced his brother's certificate. His 
friends immediately told him that he must not show 
that as an evidence of his freedom, for his person 
did not conform to it in many important particulars. 

"I know that," said Cunuingham, "but 
liberty is sweet. I can easily conform to the 

"Why, how?" 

" Cut off my toe ; break one leg ; cut off the 
calf of the other ; break this arm, and chop off 
this finger. You can do it all in five minutes." 

190 Tin: i.iiiKKTV itKi.r.. 

'• SuKirt fellow ! " saiil one of lils friends. 
■ Are you willing tu undergo all thi.sV " 

•• jityfully," .said Ciumingliani. 

■' What a I'ify,' said aiiotlier, " tliat we can't 
tiji liini, and let out this little jiorllou of negro 
l.lood ! " 

They then sent for a huteher, and, having sworn 
him to .-^eerccy, di.sclo.>ed their purpose, and jfl'om- 
ised him iifty dollars, if ho would operate like a 
workman, and make Cunningham conform to the 

The butcher paused ; said it was a new case ; 
and, addre.>>iiig Cunningham, a.->kcd if he really 
desired to liavc his body so cut and mangled. 

■'Yes," .said Cunningham; " liberty is sweet ; 
I can endure it all, even if you use yoiu* cleaver.'' 

"Why, yes," said the butcher, '' that and the 
carving-knife are the handiest tools. But, Cun- 
ningham, suppo.^e you .should die under the opera- 
tion. Your blood wi'uld be required at my hands, 
and I should be luinii for murder.'' 


" Fear nothing," said Cunningham; ''in case 
ycm kill nic, you will not be hung. You mistake 
me for a man ; hut I am only a piece of merchan- 

" I doubt," said the butcher, " if any man can 
undergo all this mangling at once. I would not 
use a calf, or a sheep, or even a wild beast, in so 
cruel a manner." 

'•You coward!" said Cunningham; "you 
do u't know the sweets of liberty. There now, be 
satisfied, I can endure it all." Saying this, as if 
in merriment, he bit off his little finger, and tossed 
it to the butcher, and added, " so much less of me 
is a Slave, at any rate." 

The butcher then departed to get his tools. On 

his return, Cunningham, in order to encourage 

him, and to display his own fortitude, had prepared 

a little melted pitch, and laying his foot on a chair, 

with a mallet and chisel struck off his toe, and 

applied the hot pitch to the wound, to stop the 

bleeding. The butcher said no carpenter could 


have done the work neater. The Uw flew lialf way 
aero.-.s tlie ruuui. 

Being tlms eueouragecl, the huteher hii<l his 
knife anil cleaver on the table, and prepared to be- 
gin hi^ (ipuratiun. Cunningham asked him in 
what pn.>ltiun lie ^liould j)lacc liiniijelf, whether 
standing or .■-itting. 

■' You must iirst be bound," said the butcher. 

" Bound I " .said Cunningham, ' I have been 
bound long enough ; and now, when I am in pur- 
suit of liberty, I will show you, that I am able to 
be my own iua.ster." 

" Before I cut up any creature,"' said the 
butcher, '" I always Iry to eompose it. The ox is 
first stunned ; calves, sheep, and swiuc are bled, 
and rendered iu.sensiblc by exhaustion ; but I 
cannot practise so on you. You uuist be bound 
and laid out on a table, or I cannot operate with 

" I will lie as quiet as a lamb," said Cunning- 


ham; " but do u't talk of biuLlin^- mo. You sliall 
not kuow that I am not asleep." 

Cuimuigham stripped oiT his clothes and laid 
himself on tlie tabic. 

" Shut yoiu- eyes, and appear to be dead," said 
the butcher, " or I cannot carry a steady hand." 

"No," said the intrepid and resolute Cuuuing- 
ham, lidding the certificate before his eyes; "I 
will see that you conform me to the certificate." * 

" "Well then ; there ! What do j^ou think of 
that ? Is liberty v;ovth. that cracking of your 
bones? " 

" Liberty is sweet," muttered Cunningham. 

*Ha<l this unlettered hero been fomiliar with dramatic poetry, he 
would have taken the exclamation of Eumenes, in the tragedy of 
Merope, when the priest was about to veil hLs eyes', before placing 
him on the altar of sacrifice, — 

'' Off, ye vain forms ! 
Cover the eyes of cowards; mine lUsdain j-e. 
Mine can, with steadfast and advancing scorn, 
Look in death's face, full-siglited. When it comes, 

■T is to ho met — not hid 

Welcome, eternal day 1 — bad world, farewell 1 "' 



" On my word," said the operator, " here is as 
hand:>oiuo a leg as I over .saw." 

" Never uihul ; conform it to tlie certificate." 
■ There ! it i.s done." 

•' Yes : jiretty well ; pare it a little dn-cr to the 

'■ Now let 3'oiir arm hang dangling over the 
table," «aid tlie butcher. "So — that's right. 
There I Confound my cleaver ; it turned in my 
hand. ]Jut it 's only a compound fracture that is 
needed ; and now the work is done. Have I 
earned the money V " 

"Ask Cunningham," said one of the spectators. 
" If he says yes, there is your money. We raised 
it for the Greeks, but it is not your fault that the 

Turks ; but what do you say, Cunningham ? 

Shall I pay the money V ' ' 

'• Stop a minute," said Cunningham ; let us 
examine the certificate once more. Well, — it will 
do : pay the money. I believe I conform so 


exactly to the certificate, that brotlier Seymour 
would lui.stake me for himself." 

"Recollect," said the butcher, " if Cunning- 
ham dies, it is no aiTair of mine. I am not to be 
troubled. I would n't undortalcc another such job 
for twice tlie money. It is wholly out of my line 
to cut a steak or break a bono if the creature 
shows any signs of life." 

The sequel proved tliat the butcher had operated 
like a workman. Cunningham recovered in a short 
time. But all his heroic sufferius; availed nothinoj. 
The facts were developed on the second trial, and 
he was delivered over to the agent and taken back 
to Alexandria. Tlierc is another fact, however, in 
the case, which must not be kept out of remem- 
brance ; for it is not only gratifying to the humane 
feeling.s of our nature, but is highly honorable to 
the colored population of Boston — Cunningham 
was soon redeemed from Slavery. His freedom 
was purchased with money, — amounting to six 
hundred dollars, — subscribed in part by the 


I II I I I K I i: I 'i II I I I 

ri.lipivil jK.'ujil.' ilnjiiiTolvc.^, aii.l tlio rest pro- 
I'urtil Ijy tin-Ill :iiiionj!; the frioinls of uiiivtr.sil 

I'umbriJi-'*'! M!>-«.*., Otobt-r, IMl. 


(illje 3o\) of lUcaltl). 

BY LOUISA J . 1£ A L L . 

OxcE to my poverty there came straugc news, 
And to my pining soul, like evening dews 
To the parched thirsty herb, it strengtlicning came, 
Giving me hope, and power to do, and name. 
Lacking earth's goods, how weak, aks ! was I ! 
None coukl I lielp, so all men passed me by ; 
And I did think it was my rightful doom, 
Wlien rich men trod my way, to give them room. 

But there came news. They told me I was rich ! 
Treasures were mine that do men's souls bewitch ; 
And my far kinsman's death gave birth to powers 
And plans, like visions of my boyhood's hours. 

'2l> I Tin; MiiKitTY i!i;i,L. 

All my iTushi'd iikuiIukhI I forgdt. N<j iimro 
Must I turn puorui' MifTerors from my (lucir, 
Ami think the strangest thing OoJ ever made 
Was a sun-loving heart to pine in .shade. 
Oh, Lrief and blissful dream ! Thank God, it 

eame : 
Oh, opportunity I mir gold, nor fame, 
Could flush my cheek with such a joyous glow, 
As^ sudden power to heal a hrother's woe. 
With such sweet face eame glittering Wealth to me. 
With reverent, grateful heart I bowed the knee, 
Looked to my God, and listened for the word 
That in the soul witli each new gift is heard. 

Thus spake the voice. " These treasures are not 

Man's law doth give them thee ; God l>ids, resign. 
Thy gold is coined from houdinen's unpaid toil ; 
Thy gems are tears dropped o'er a Slave-tilled soil ; 
A curse lurks in the heart of such dire wealth ; 
Shrink I ere it blight th}' inmost spirit's health." 


ShuJdering I heard. From my scorched hands T 

Parchments and deeds, as one with frenzy stung, 
And then with sudden tears and glad relief, — 
An agony of rapture ahnost past belief, — 
Caught to my heart again the legal scrawls, 
By wliicli I held — and might set free — those 

thralls ! 

Set free I silent before my swimming sight 

They glide, they glide even now, the new-born light 

Of freedom beaming from theu' wondering eyes, 

That gaze as on transfig-m-ed earth and skies. 

They called me — Master ! Oh, Father of love ! 

Xot for one night the holy stars aliove 

Saw me endure the title. On they went, 

On in their free and peaceful banishment ; 

By families they went. None could molest 

Whom I sent forth to seek their northern rest, 

None dri^e them from the lands my gold did buy ; 

And there the gentle race shall live, there die. 


Out of the wealth God-given, in one brief hour 
I crushed its truest blessing and its power. 
I have them still. The worthless show is flown, 
But gold's enduring blessing is mine own. 
My God, I thank thee I I am bowed to earth 
"With gi-atitude. I cannot heed man's mirth, 
Who mocks the poverty he deems insane ; 
For I am rich, am ricli I a golden vein 
Ileneefurward runs all glittering through my life, 
Not to be reached by human eye or strife. 
Deeper than scorn can touch or sin defile, 
Reflecting back my Father's blessed smile. 

Provitlence, R. I., OctobtT, 1S.51 


£e (!II)ristiani0m€ d ['(^sdava^t. 

PAR M . M A E T I X P A S C H U D , 

A Madame H. G. Cuap3Iax. 

Madame : — Vous me faites rhomieur cle me 
demander ce que je pense de I'esclavage ; permet- 
tez-moi, pour toute reponse, de vous envoyer un 
petit ecrit, dans le quel j'ai taclie d'esprimer, du 
mieux qu'il m'a ete possible, la formule precise de 
fa hi de Dien, d'oii il resulte, aiusi que vous le 
verrez, si vous daiguez jeter les yeus sur ces 
humbles pages, que de tous les egaremens, de tous 
les fleaux, de tous les crimes qui se sent repandus 
sur notre pauvre terre, le plus graud, le plus 


funt'ste, le \)\\\^ exL-orable est assurt'inont I'Escla- 
vago, puisque c'est celui ([ui renverse, le plus 
fondamcntalement, cetto loi reliyieuse, sociulc, 
indin'dueUe, (jue le supruiue Legislateur a L-tablie 
pom* riumianite 

Comuieut se fait-il (ju'uno telle iiiicjuite ait pu 
s'etaMir, sc porpetucr, se ivgulari.ser, sc k'galiscr, 
se sanetifier nieine dans le numde ? Surtijut, 
eommeut se fait-il (ju'aujounrhui, eneore, a cette 
heure, en ce moment, dans des pays non sauvages. 
mais civilises, mais religieux, mais Clii'etiens, on 
accepte, on conserve un si horrible heritage de la 
barbaric, eomme si Ton tenait, en veritc, a garder 
devant soi, energiijue et vivante, la plus cruelle, 
;i la fills, et la plus ironiijuo protestation contrc 
cette civilization, contrc cette religion, contre ce 
Christiauisme '{ 

La premiere publication de ma jounes-e, (je 
regrette, madame, de ne pouvou* en retrouver un 
seul excmplaii-e pom- vous en faire rhommage,) a 
ete, il y a trente ans, une these sur ce sujet. 


J'y montrais, je crois, qu'il n'ctait pas possible 
d'etre rcellement Clirctiens, et possesseurs d'Es- 
clayes ! C'etait, vous le voyez, une verite assez 
enfantiiie. II n'y a pas, cu cfFet, de petit garcon, 
de petite fillo, dans nos ccoles, qui ne partageat cet 
avis, si Tous lui faisiez lii'e seiilement qnatre lignes 
de I'Evangilc, et lui disiez deux mots de ce que 
c'est que I'Esclavage. 

Mais j'ai appris depiiis quo les grands esprits 
savent, au besoin, s'elever a des opinions difFe- 
rentes. N'a-t'il pas etc decide a Londres, il y a 
quelques anuees, dans les solennelles reunions de 
V Alliance Evangelique (beaux mots, "vraiment, 
si les Glioses s'y rencontraient !) que, pour entrer 
dans cette alliance, et partant dans le Paradis, il 
importait peu d'etre ou non acheteur et vendeur de 
chair et d'ame humaines ; mais qu'il fallait, avant 
tout, dire, sans faute, un long et inintelligible 
credo aupeche originel, et a la Trinite. 

Pour moi, madame, je I'avoue, cela ne m'a 

point converti. Je suis roste, et je mourrai, avec 


les impressiuii?, avoo les convietions de' mon 
enfanee, de uia jeunesse, nourries, fuitilitcs par les> 
UR'tlitatiuus de luge uiiir. Je', conime 
meutoiirs et sacrilc-ges, tuu.s lus crtdo dii launde 
(jui s'uccouplent, mon.strueuscment, avec la viola- 
tion L'vidontc de la Loi de Dieu. Si j'etais 
proprittaire d'hommes, le seul crtdo cjue, pour 
etre sincere, jc coiLsentistJO a repeter, serait celui- 
ei: Je crois en moi ! et, pom- arriver a le pronon- 
eer avee quekpie secuiitu de conscience, je m'em- 
presserais de jeter au feu rEvangile de Jesus- 
Christ, dont la seule vue nie couvrii-ait d'uue 
inexprimable confusion ; jo prendi'ais tous les 
detours du clieniln, pour ue passer jamais dans la 
rue, ou sur la place oii se trouverait un temple, 
line L'glise (j^uek-onque ; car ma condamuation m'y 
paraitrait ecrite sur les murs ; enfin, j'essaycrais, 
— si ma folic y pouvait atteindre, — j'essaycrais 
de decbirer, au fond do mon ame, cet Evangile 
eternel, cette loi de nature que Ic Createur y a 
mise, et dont la vols m'importunerait, afin de 

LE ciirasTiAXisME ET l'esclavage. 211 

(.Icscoudre moi-meme, de degre en degTe, jusf|u'au 
niveau de ces pauvres victimcs, choses aniiiiees, 
dout, peut-etrc alors il me serait possible de 
disposer sans crainte et sans remords. 

Ou plutot, si j'avais lo mallieur d'etre proprie- 
taire dliommes, ct qno jc voulusse redevenii-, je ne 
dis pas CLnx'tien, mais homme, vrai homme, je 
tomberais incontinent a genoux dcvant Dieu, face 
contra terre, et je lui dirai avec componetion, avee 
larmes : — " Auteur de mon etre ! Dieu puissant et 
bon I Pardonue I Je t'ai offense, par Tignorance, 
par aveuglement, par fausse honte, par amour 
propre, par ego'isme ; j'ai commis le peelie le plus 
abominable a tes jeux ; j'ai degi-ade la creatui-e que 
tu avals faite a ton image ; elle t'appartcnait, — je 
me la suis injustemcnt appropriee ! Comme I'animal 
dont tu m'avaifc dit au commencement, ' domine 
sur lui,' j'ai pris aussi ton fils, le fils d'Adam, mon 
propre frere, issu de ta race, et je m'en suis servi 
ainsi que d'un autre betail. Ob, mon pere, — 


pOre lie lui, — jare do tuus, — panlonni- ! Tl 
I Test pas inien ! Ju te le reiuls ! " 

\'uus m'avt'Z ilit, nuulaiiii.', iju'iui pasteiir, Iu'tI- 
tier d'lui vastu iloniaiuu a Enclaves, avait fait rceeni- 
inrnt, dau.s votre pays, une pareille restitution. 
Puisscnt se multiplier i-haijue jour d'aussi nobles 
exemples ! Puissent tous les efforts geucreus et 
paeitiques des ames comnie la vOtre Gtre aboii<lani- 
ment bOnis dans cette a'U\Te I Puisse, entin, et 
bientut, sonner par tout lu nionde, a toutes les 
nreilles, dans tous les cccui-s, en toute demeure 
habitable, Theure bienheurcuse dc la reparation et 
de la liberte. 

Je suis, madame, avec regard et affection 

Votre trt-s humble et tri-s devout- servitcur, 

Paris, 10 Mars, 1851. 


Cljristlanitij ani) SlaiJerj). 

Protestant Clergyman. 

To Mrs. H. G. Chapman. 

Madam : — You have done mo the honor to ask 
me what I thmk of Slavery. Permit me, as the 
only reply I have to make, to send you a few lines 
in which I have endeavored to express, to the best 
of my ability, the precise formula of the law of 
God, whence it follows, as you will perceive if you 
are pleased to cast your eyes over these humble 
pages, that of all the frenzies, of all the, 
of all the crimes, which have spread themselves 
over our poor world, Slavery is, assuredly, the 


giL-atost, the nmst fatal, tho most execrable, since 
it is that wliieh overthrows the most utterly this 
Law, religious, social, personal, which the Supreme 
Legislator has estahlisheil for the human race. 

HoAY comes it to pass that such an iniquity has 
lieen able to establish itself, to peqjetuato itself, to 
organize itself, to sanctify itself, even, in the 
world 'i Above all, how comes it to pass that at 
this clay, at this hour, at this moment, in countries 
not savage but civilizeil, religious. Christian, so 
horrible a bequest of barbarism is accepted, Ls 
cherished, as if it were necessary' to keep before 
their eyes, full of energy and life, a protest at once 
tlie most cruel and tlie most ironical, against this 
civilization, against this religion, against this 
Christianity V 

The first publication of my j-outh (I regret, 
Madam, that I cannot recover a single copy to 
present to you,) was, thu-ty years ago, an essay 
upon this subject. I there showed, I think, that 
it was not possible to be truly a Chi-istum and the 


possessor of Slaves ! It was, as you see, an 
infantile truth enough. There is not, indeed, a 
little boy or a little girl in our schools who would 
not be of the same opinion, should you make them 
read merely four lines of the Grospel and tell them 
in two words what Slavery is. But I have learned 
since then that groat minds can, upon a pinch, riso 
to other opinions ! Was it not decided at London, 
a few years since, in the solemn assemblies of the 
Evangelical Alliance (beautiful words, truly, if 
they meant anything !) that to enter into this 
Alliance, and so into Paradise, it mattered little 
whether one were or not the buyer and seller of 
human flesh and souls, but that it was above all 
essential to repeat, without mistake, a long and 
unintellio-ible creed as to Ori2;inal Sin and the 
Trinity ? 

As to myself. Madam, I confess it, this has failed 
to convert me. I have remained, and shall remain, 
with the impressions, with the convictions, of my 
infancy, of my youth, nourished and strengthened 


liy tho ic'flc'ctiuns of my riper ago. I reject, as 
lying ami sacrilegious, all the ereeds in the world 
whieh monstrously unite themselves with the pal- 
pable violation of the law of God. AVere I an 
o\nier of men, the only creed which I could in sin- 
cerity consent to repeat would be this : — / believe 
in MYSELF ! And, that I might pronounce it with 
s(jme ease of conscience, I should make haste to 
east into the fire the Gospel of Jesus Christ, the 
veiy sight of which would ovenvhelin me with 
unutterable confusion. I should carefully go out 
of my way, .so as never to pass through any street 
or square where there might be a temple, a church 
of an}' kind ; for I should there see my condemna- 
tion written upon the walls ! Finally, I should 
endeavor, — if my madness could reach such a 
pitch, — I .should endeavor to tear from the bot- 
tom of my soul that eternal Gospel, that law of 
Nature, which the Creator has placed there, the 
voice of which would not let me rest, so that I 
might descend myself, step by step, even to the 


level of these poor victims, animated chattels, 
whom I might then be able to dispose of witliout 
fear and without remorse. 

Or, rather, had I the misfortune to be the owner 
of men, and should I wish to become, I will not 
say a Christian, but a man, a true man, I should 
fiill at once upon my knees before God. and with 
my face Ijowed to the earth, I should say to him, 
with contrition, with tears: — "Author of my 
being ! IMighty and merciful God ! Pardon ! 
I have sinned against thee, thi'ough ignorance, 
through blindness, through false shame, through 
self-conceit, through selfishness ; I have com- 
mitted the sin the most abominable in thine 
eyes ; I have degraded the creature that thou 
hast made in thine image I It belonged to thee, 
and I have unjustly appropriated it. As if he 
were of the animals of which thou hadst said to 
me, at the beginning of the world, ' have dominion 
over them.' I have taken thy son, also, the son of 

Adam, my own brother, sprung from tliee, and I 

•_*1S TIIK LlUKinV DKF.L. 

have used him like any other beast of hunkii ! 
Oh. my lather, — liis father, — father of all. — 
|tarilon I TT.- i- u,,!- min.' • T rc-fuiv hiui to 
thee : " 

Voii have told me, madam, that a elergyman in 
your country, the heir of a great estate in slaves, 
ha.s recently made such a restitution. May such 
noble examples multiply every day ! May all 
gcnerou.s aud pacific efforts of souls like yours be 
abundantly blessed in this work I And may the 
time come, and that .'Speedily, when, thimighout the 
whole world, in all ears aud in all hearts, in every 
habitable abode, the hour- may strike of reparation 
and of liberty ! 

I am, madaii!. with respect and Christian affec- 
tion, your very humble aud very devoted servant, 
Martin Paschocd. 

Van*. March 10, 1851. 


^Ijc l^lauc in America. 


Land of the brave ! thy hallowed shore 

Is stained with tints of blood ; 
And human cries are wafted o'er 

Thy deep blue ocean-flood ! 
Hark I fi-om the fields where Freedom fought, 

And heroes bled to save 
The Ark of Liberty, are heard 

Tlie moauiugs of the Slave ! 

WHiat is his lot i unheard of woe, 
Always to love and part ; 


To ft-L'l tlio la.>^li, to bear the l.low, 
The reiitling of the heart ; 

To see (lelight.s he eaimot .-haiv, 
To feast, aiul yet to crave, 

To h..i.4 the flag of liberty, 
Yet live aiul die a Slave. 

He lives upon a Christian shore I 

Enslaved by Christian men I 
'T is they who o'er his tawny neck. 

Have bound the iron chain. 
0, God of mercy I let thy voice 

Thy truth ami love proclaim ; 
Nor may the tyrants of their race. 

Disgrace thy holy name. 

Rouse thoc, Columbia, in thy might ! 

Thy tarnished glory save I 
Bid every subject of thy sway, 

No lonirer be a Slave ! 


So shall one voice to heaven arise 

111 sacred harmony ; 
And echo through the vaulted skies, 

The shout of Liberty ! 

Edinburgh, June uth, 1840. 


i .■• 

t- J ;.••;.■'->-. ; ', U:. 


::i £cttcr. 

R Y W E N D K L L T II I L L I P S . 

Mv DtAK Siu : — Your letter needed im upo- 
lugy ; it was a pleasiu'C to receive it ; such criti- 
cisms do us good, — they show us how we ■ strike 
strangers," (distance of phice perfoniis the part of 
distance of time,) and recall us to the duty of 
reconsidering our course, and the reasons on which 
it is based. It is not claiming much to ask that you 
will not suppose us so foolish as to wi^h the lives we 
give to a hard duty utterly thrown away, hy a bad 
choice of means or misdirected effort. If we are 
iu error, therefore, he does us a kindness who sets 
us right ; and oiu" gratitude should be in proportion 

A LETTER. 223 

to the worth of the cause such error harms, — the 
value we set on oui'S, and om" sincere conviction 
of the goodness of the means we use to forward it, 
we have shown by the lives wc devote to them. 

Your letter objects to the language and temper 
in which the Anti-Slavery agitation is conducted, 
and the personal character it often assumes. You 
ask us to consider whether such a course is either 
justifiable or expedient ; and I judge from a letter 
which enclosed yours, that you think oui' mistake 
in these respects, has injured the Anti-Slavery cause 
in the Slave States, and put back emancipation, 
espeially in Vngiuia, Delawai'e, Kentucky, and 

I will tell you my views on these points ; though 
frequent experience leads me to doubt whether, 
except in rare cases, any but an American can 
fully understand our position. 

Napoleon, you know, always maintained that 
Wellington ought, according to all military rule, to 
have been beaten at Waterloo. The world, I 



believe, lias never liail the patience to listen to hi 
explanation. The victory settled for us the mili- 
tary suflieiency of the meaurf that gained it. Our 
case, allow me to say, is jnecisely similar. In 
1830, the cause of the Slave was desperate 
enough. The reaction, after the political 
excitement of the Mi.ssouri questi(jn, was perfect ; 
and the whole nation went to sleep. The pulpit 
was dumb, the press discreetly silent, and every 
politican avoided the fatal question with the 
in.stiuct of self-preservation. Since then, the Anti- 
Slavery agitation, under Mr. Garrison, has 
achieved a wider and more immediate success than 
any similar cause ever gained in the world before. 
It has aroused the whole country ; driven the 
South to that madness and rash counsels, 
which, according to the Greek proverb, always 
precede destruction; sv\'allowed up, like Aaron's 
rod, all tlie other political issues, — Bank, — 
Tariff, — Internal Improvements, &c. ; drawn into 
the vortex of its own excitement all the great 

A LETTER. 225 

statesmen who had, again and again, pledged 
themselves never to touch the question, AV^ebstcr, 
Benton, Clay, &c. ; blotted out the lines of the 
two parties that have ruled us for half a century, 
and turned every man into pro or anti Slavery, — 
unionist or disuniouist, — broken to pieces the 
two greatest sects, Presbyterian and Methodist, and 
is putting the rest on their good behavioui- ; it has 
filled every pulpit, railroad ear, lyceum, public 
hall and private fii-eside, every arena, literary, reli- 
gious or political, with discussion ; witness (the 
last instance) Mr. Choatc so desperate as to steal 
the occasion of a literary address for a caucus 
speech. In a word, it has taken up the nation by 
the foiu" corners, and shaken it out of all its old 
habits and trains of thought, tui'ning it into an 
Anti-slavery Debating Society ; and all this, living 
in a country ruled by Public Opinion, and con- 
scious that Truth is on one side, we count success. 
If God grant us as much during the next twenty 
years as we have had the past, our first of August 

l!20 TllK LlUtUTV ilKl.I,. 

will be neiir, if not over, uiiloss souk.' otlior aiul 
liluuily Exodus i.s before us iu the pruvitleuce of Go J. 

I know you nuiy say all this would have 
ha})i»ened without Mr. (lariison and his friends. 
So, perhaps, the Reformation would have eonie, 
some time or otlicr, without Luther ; and our rcv<j- 
lution without Wa.shingtou or Adams. ]>ut he 
who maintains that either event would have taken 
place us and when it did, without these men, will 
reooUeet that the presum])tion is the other way, and 
that the burden of proof rests upon him. 

You may urge also that the Anti-slavery agita- 
tion would have succeeded better if differently 
■ inducted. But when the success has been so 
unparalleled, the objector must recollect that the 
burden of proof rests u[iou him, and that, until the 
•-•ontrary is shown, such luicqualled success is con- 
clusire evidence that the method of agitation was 
well devised. It may be very natural fur parties 
whom Mr. Garrison has annihilated, and sects 
whieh he has broken to pieces to find fault with 

A LETTER. 227 

him ; but it was hardly to be expeetecl tliey 
should allege that the campaign in ■which they have 
been so signally defeated, by a miserable minority, 
was ill planned and worse executed. 

What I wish you to observe is, that you are 
calling on the conqueror, in a case where accident 
could have no part, to prove his military capacity I 
He answers you, in Wren's epitaph, " Circum- 
spice ! " Look around you I 

As you remark in your letter, all American dis- 
cussions, political and religious, are carried on with 
such personality and frank and blunt censure as are 
distasteful to an Eno-lishman. Grranted. It ought, 
then, to be no matter of surprise that the Anti-Slav- 
ery agitation shares in the national fault ; nor should 
it be matter of special blame, that a man, in becom- 
ing an Abolitionist, did not cease to be American in 
his habits and tastes. Indeed, we might claim that 
if there be any cause which could justify the most 
du'ect and harsh censure and the utmost personality, 
it must be ours. Could we sit down together, and 


compare tlie Anti-slavery with tlie religious and 
IMilitieal press of the United States, I think you 
wiiuld allow that its higher aims and purer princi- 
ples have elevated and relined, as you think they 
shi'ulil do, the tone of its discussions. Indeed, mak- 
ing fair allowance for difference of individual tastes, 
recollecting the priceless right we are battling for, 
and that our ranks are too poorly filled to refuse any 
honest man who offers his aid, I can say I have no 
fault to find with the langunge or temper of the 
Anti-Slavery press. To Alexander's criticism of 
theu" weapons, the Scythians made answer, ' ' If 
you knew how sweet freedom was, you would think 
it right to defend it oven with axes." 

Consider our position and recollect our object. 
Living in a laud governed exclusively by public 
opinion — ruled by men not by laws, — we are 
attempting to abolish a system of Slavery sanc- 
tioned by public opinion. To effect our object we 
must entu'oly change this public opinion. We are 
a minority ; all the po.sts of influence are held 

A LETTER. 220 

against us, the pulpit, the press, the senate-house 

and tlic market-place. Yet to succeed, we must 

reach every class in the community, the thoughtless 

and the thoughtful — the calm and the enterprising 

— the rude and the refined, the ignorant and the 

educated. In such circumstances, to expect every 

Abolition speaker to model himself on Dr. Chan- 

ning is the greatest mistake. Dr. Chauuing spoke 

to the man of refinement and culture, with feelings 

sensitively alive to every consideration of duty and 

humanit}-. But with the exception of these, a 

few thousands at best, he was of no avail till lips 

more Saxon than his translated him for the benefit 

of the masses. The world has been criticising, for 

a century, the Methodist and the Moravian foi 

then" want of taste, and the rude familiarity with 

which they speak of things held sacred, and usually 

appi'oached only with great decorum. But the 

Methodist and Moravian have touched more hearts 

than all the educated pulpits. The Quaker, while 

his words were half battles and stung like adders, 



imulo converts. IIu has liecuiiio staid and decorous 
anil ceased to f^nnv. 

The fact is a new idea, the genu of Eufnrin, is 
first a sentinieiit, then a thought — and afterward a 
principle. Hence almost all Reforms have origi- 
nated among the masses and worked tlieir way 
upward. I do not know that a .single great Moral 
Reform has sprung from the schools — and when 
any Moral Reformer has appeared there — he has 
found himself speedily ejected and forced into the 
company of those who live in their sentiments, the 
mass of mankind. Their language is rough, hlunt, 
and often coarse, as some over fastidious ears count 
coarseness. Reformers are usually made of the 
same stuff and share these faults. And one of a 
different stamp seeking to bridge over the space 
between him and his audience, borrows, for the 
moment, their vocabulary. 

You allude to the personality of our discussions. 

In a country like ours, governed, as I have 
reminded you already, entirely by public opinion, 

A LETTEU. 231 

the opinions of thoi^e who, either in the pulpit, at 
the head of the press, or in political station, repre- 
sent others and seek to mould the moral sentiment 
of the community, are practically /ac^s of moment- 
ous import to all of us. Our immediate welfare 
and om* future destiny are inevitably and deeply 
affected by them. In such circumstances those 
persons have no right to complain if their opinions 
and actions are scanned and criticised with relent- 
less scrutiny by parties so deeply concerned in 
them as we are. If they shrink from this respon- 
sibility they must c^uit the post which entails it. 
The politician is our servant, whose acts it is 
our duty and right to criticise — the mistakes of 
the clergyman and the editor make om* farms 
less valuable and our li\ es less secure — endan- 
ger free speech and jeopard the welfare of our 
children — they must expect to be vigilantly 

If you object to our frequent judgment of mo- 
tives, I need only remind you that such judgment 


is necessarily iiunk- iqioii ;i vi'iy close eoiisiileratiou 
of the thousaiul minutt' ciiiuui.>tance.s of a inairs 
past history, prcsunt pu.-itiuii, ja-eviou.s declarations, 
known associates, general character, cVe., &:e., 
which none but thuse near at haiul can prujterly 
estimate ; so tliat wc may be oftcner right than 
your general knowledge of our country would lead 
yoii to think. As to the expediency of openly 
stating tliat wliich is generally surmised, who can 
doubt that it is one jjowerful means of destroying 
the influence of the plausible arguments of design- 
ing men to point out to those they are likely to 
delude, the corrupt and interested motives by 
which tlicy are led. Tt seems to me tluit nothing 
))Ut very false charity would require that we should 
omit from our criticism of Webster, the well- 
known fact that he does not believe his own .-tate- 
ments, or rely on his own arguments, and would 
never have used either but from calculations of 
political expediency and the hope of the Presiden- 
tial chaii'. Oiu- cause must be very strong indeed, 


when it can afford to forego, in its unequal battle 
with a nation, so potent a means of opening men's 
eyes to the treachery of his conduct, and the fatal 
course on which he is leading the nation. After 
all, the masses judge of opinious more by the men 
who hold them than the arguments ou whieli they 
rest. Our aim is to free the Slave, by changing the 
sentiment of this nation. We must take human 
nature as we find it, and use aU honest means to 
reach and mould the national heart. 

As for the, here oft^answered, objection about 
Delaware, Maryland, &c., I hope you will not print 
that in any remarks that you may publish about 
yoiu' travels here, since every enlightened man 
would regard you as duped by the stale pretences 
of pro-Slavery hypocrisy. Every candid man, of 
all parties, North and South, laughs at such state- 
ments. They served their purpose years ago, but 
have long since fallen into the kennel of exploded 
lies. Intelligent Southerners have again and 

again confessed that the agitation had weakened 


the wliole system ; Cassias Clay acknowleilged it 
for Keutiicky, — Mr. Vaiiglian, liis partner in the 
ctlitorshij) of tlie Louisville Kxaniiner, added his 
testimony for that and other States. If you wish 
more palpable evidence, take it hi the clouded close 
of the life of Calhoun, who sank t(j his grave, con- 
fessing that the days of Slavery were numbered, 
and throwhig all the blame on the Anti-Slavery 
agitation. Indeed, if the Garrison movement, 
with the political effijrts which have resulted from 
it, is putting back emancipation, how comes it that 
for twenty years the South has gone frantic with 
fear, and been calling on the North to (|uell it ".' 
threatening to dissolve the Union if it were not 
stopped, and rushing on the maddest courses to 
regain the balance of power, which they felt was 
.slipping from their hands. Do men usually exhibit 
,5uch fear and hatred toward those who are confii-m- 
ing their power and adding value to their prop- 
erty ? Have the manufacturers of your country 
offered a reward of So, 000 for the head of Sir 

A LETTER. 285 

Joseph Paxton ? or did your landholders, during 
the late corn-law excitement, tar and feather the 
Dukes of Richmond and Buckingham 'i Judge 
the South by its acts ; not its pretences, — and you 
will easily learn by those alone the true eflfects of 

our agitation on Slavery even in the Slave States. 


Boston, November, 1851. 

23t> TUK LlUtlCTV BKLL. 




Sing, liappy blackLud I tliy melodious lay 
Proves that thy breast some heavenly spark con- 
Love, joy, and hope dist<?nd thy little veins 
As they do mine. Cease not thy song so gay- 
While such a bond of fellowship remains 
I will not harm thee. I will never play 
The kidnapper, and rifle thee away 
Forever from thy native hawthorn laues — 
Rob thee of freedom till thy dying day — 


Sever thee from thy mate — and while tliy pain.- 
Wring from thy eloon hreast despau'iug strains, 
Mock at the wrongs that on thy spirit weigh. 
Life, love, and liberty thou shalt not lack, 
Nor be a Slave, although thy hue is black. 

Colchester, 8th mo., 6th, 1849. 


iThiif.tianitij a ii'rimc ! 


Strange as it may appear, anrl reluctant a- any 
may be to atlmlt it, the \vor(ls above are neither 
a fiction nor an exaggeration. They express an 
existing fact, col'nual in its extent and operation 
with the boundaries of the United States of 

There is not a land on tlie face of tho oartli 
where more show of religion is made tlian in tliis ; 
none where louder professions are made of rever- 
ence for the Son of God, the Saviour of tlie world. 
Yet obedience to the great and fundamental law (>f 
his religion is here forbidden by the law of the 


lanrl. and punished as a crime. Temples, profess- 
edly erected to the honor of God, exist almost 
without number in the land, ^Yhilc our laws require 
that the plainest precepts and clearest principles 
which God has ordained for the control and well- 
being of mankind, nmst be violated and treated with 
scoffing and contempt. Or, if any one venture to dis- 
regard the human and obey the divine mandate, 
forthwith he subjects himself to the punishment of 
a felon. Such is the decree of the Sovereign 
Power of this Union, speaking through the laws 

We have a Constitution, one of whose objects, 
in the words of those who made it, and of those 
who have, for upwards of sixty years, expounded 
it, is, " to secure to the citizens of the Slaveholding 
States, the complete right and title of oxoner ship, in 
their Slaves as property, in every State of the 
Union,''* — a Constitution which contains a distinct 

* story, Prigg vs. State of Pennsylvania, p. 77. 

■J4o TiiK i.innnv iikll. 

" bartjain between Freedom and Slareri/.'"1[ We 
have laws cnactod in coiifurniity witli (his uaikjain, 
although with varimis miconstitutional provisions 
supora titled, which coinniand, as the duty of the 
American citizen, the vioLition of the in^st explicit 
oomniandrf of God and of Christianity, and the 
]>erforraance of acts which are alike forbidden liy 
(Jod, liy every principle of justice, and by every 
sentimout of humanity. 

An outcast, WTCtched man — escaping from those 
who have cruelly entreated him all his day.s. who 
have defrauded and plundered him. beaten and 
bruised his wife and children before, his eye.s con- 
tinually, and then sold that wife and those children, 
nut of his sight forever, to other demons in human 
shape — flies to us and implores protection from 
those who are about to seize and carry him back 
to renewed sufferings. '■ Thou shalt NOT deliver 
him back," says the voice of God, speaking in His 

t John Quincy Adams. Diary, 1820. 


word, and in the heart of man. "He shall be 
delivered up," say the Constitution and kws of 
this land. "We ought to obey God rather than 
man," is our reflection and our reply. Do so at 
yoiu" peril, cry the "ministers of the lower law," 
as they style themselves ; imprisonment and fines 
shall be visited upon you. 

" Feed the hungry ; clothe the naked ; hide not 
thyself from thine own flesh ; bring him who is 
east out to thy house ; and relieve the oppressed." 
These are the positive and clear commands of 

Whoso does this, says tlic law of this Union, 
— whoso shall harbor a fellow-man, accused of no 
crime, fleeing from Slavery, and seeking only 
freedora without molestation or oppression, he shall 
be fined one thousand dollars, and shall be impris- 
oned sis months for each and every instance in 
which lie thus transgresses ; and he shall further- 
more pay to the self-styled owners, the assessed 

money-value of every fellow-man wlioni, in ol)edi- 

'2A'2 Tin: i.ihkktv hell. 

eiice to the (inspel of (.'lirist, ho has foil, or 
clutheil, or sholterod, or visitorl. 

Our i>rinei{ial cities juid towns, ami even our 
more rotiroil rural abodes, are now harassed and 
disgraced by the efforts of andjitious and heartless 
men to enforce these i)enalties. And, as might be 
i'X]ioeted when distlnfjnished men thus an-ay them- 
selves against (rod, and set examples of wickedness 
in high places, meaner men, iu editorial chairs, in 
lawyers' offices, in pulpits, and in the marts of 
trade, emulate the base deed, pour out thoir low 
contempt upon every appeal for justice and for 
mercy, and breathe out threatenings and slaughter 
against the servants of the Lord. 

In the United States Senate, not long since, a 
Senator of the State of New York* spoke of a 
law hisrher than that of Consn'oss, — hii^her than 
any which man can enact. The bare suggestion of 
such a law, — a law of superior authority and 

* William U. So ward. 


woiglitior obligation than a Congress of Slavehold- 
ers can frame, — was received with derision and 
mockery by the Senators generally, and but one or 
two were found to do it the reverence even of a 
verbal acknowledgment. Thenceforward, the very 
phrase, " a Higher Law," was bandied to and fro 
from press and pulpit throughout the country, with 
jeers or frowns, as a monstrous heresy or a frivo- 
lous superstition. 

Soon after, one of the leading Democrats of the 
Union, an ex- Vice-President, Gteoroe M. Dallas 
of Pennsylvania, seized the opportunity of a public 
dinner in the city of New York, to throw his con- 
tempt on the Higher Law. He sent a toast com- 
plimentary to Senator Dickinson of New York, 
(one of those Northern hounds of the Slave 
power, who have been the shame and well-nigh the 
destruction of our country,) and these were the 
words thereof, as pulilished in the papers of the 
day : — " Tlie imtriot Senator of Neto York — 
He who cherishes no liigher aim than his country's 


^ouil, and ailiijit.s iin liiglicr law tliaii liis country's 

Not to bo beliiud any Di-ninciatic- rival, in 
reganl to any ti-st of a man's fitness for the Presi- 
ilential diair, Damki, Wkustkii soon conies fur- 
ward to try ///"*■ hand at the work of in.>ultinii; and 
iynorinf/ (as the modern phrase Ls) that Power 
whose Being and Laws he had often, with liypo- 
critic speech, invoked and jirofessed to reverence. 
The place which he chose for his impious deed was 
one of the resorts of gayety and fashion, a water- 
ing-place in Slaveholding ^'irginia. Thus he 
spoke : — 

•'Gentlemen, this North ^Fountain is high, the 
Blue Piidge liigher still, the Alle<i;hanv hie;her 
than either, and yet this higher law ranges further 
than an eagle's flight above the highest peaks of the 
Alleghany. (Laughter.) Xo common vi.'^ion can 
discern it ; no conscience not transcendental and 
ecstatic can feel it ; the hearing of common men 


never discerns its high beliests, and, therefore, one 
should think it not a safe law to be acted on in 
matters of the highest practical moment. It is the 
code, however, of the fanatical and factious Aboli- 
tionists of the North." 

But even these instances are not the most pain- 
ful nor the most remarkable. We are prepared to 
see depraved and vicious developments of charac- 
ter in old, hackneyed politicians, whose whole 
moral natures have been infected with the corrupt 
and poisonous atmosphere of partizan struggle, 
manoeuvi'e, plot, and counterplot. We have been 
forced to look upon a more humiliating sight than 
even this. We have seen within the year one of 
the largest religious bodies of the land, all the 
while pretending great zeal for Grod and Christ, and 
great concern for immortal souls, join in the mock 
which is made of God and his commandments. 
Surely, here is the revival of the old scene, when a 

professed friend and disciple drew near to -Tesus, 


ami said, Hail, Master, aud kissed liiin, at the 
same nioment beckuning his mui-deiers to draw 
near and take liiiii. Tlie ease to which we refer is 
thus told in journals wliully friendly to the body 
whose proceedings are reported :* 

The General Assembly of tin- Presbyterian 
Church (New School) met in Utiea, X. Y., in 
May last. In the course of a discussion ujxtn 
Slavery, " Rev. Mr. Grosvenor said, I wi.«h to 
'tffer an amendment to what has been offered : 
Resolved, That the Fugitive Slave law, in its 
present provisions and requirements, is entirely 
opposed to the impulses of humanity, to the princi- 
ples of justice, and to the precepts of the Bible. 
This was recei\ed with considerable laughter by 
the Assembly." 

Laughter ! "Was there no other way in which 
to receive, even though it had been ill-timed and 
mistaken, a proposition like that ? We are led to 

•The Gueidu (Utica; Whig, N. Y. Juunial of Cummerci:, &c. 


say, as William Jay, the celebrated preacher of 
Bath, England, is reported to have said, when 
speaking of some kindred enormity, " Come up 
here, old Devil, and see if you can beat that." 
"Laughter"! Yes — answered by fiends, and 
echoed from the sounding walls of hell. But in 
vain tliey lauo-hed. He, that is higher than the 
highest regarded them. The Almighty shall have 
them in derision, yea, He shall mock when their 
fear cometh. 

To these impious and atheistical sentiments, 
multitudes of the pulpits of the land have respond- 
ed. Very few have dared to withstand them, and 
vindicate the insulted Majesty of Heaven, the 
eternal principles of Justice, Truth, and Love. 
Daniel Sharp of Boston, from his pulpit, calls 
upon his hearers to obey the laws of the land, 
whether they iire just or unjust, right or wrong ; 
that is, whether they agree with Clod's laws, or 
directly oppose them. This doctrine has been 
taken up, and promulgated from the most influen- 


tial pulpit.s in the land. Apologies ami ju.stitica- 
tions of Slavery Lave lieen jtoureil out like water ; 
and the great cununauduients, on whieh all utheiis 
depend, To love God with all our heart, and mind, 
and strencrth ; and, To love our Neijrhhor a.s our- 
selves, have been driven to the wall. And thus 
has the Nation made the commandment of God of 
no effect hy its legislation ; and a corrupt priest- 
hood have .said. Amen. 

So it is. To shelter the weary, hunted, and 
wretched Slave, — to bind up his wnunds, — t(j 
break our bread to his afflicted soul, — to give him 
but a cup of cold water in the name of Christ ; — 
and to refuse to partake in the devilish work of 
giving him back to his tormentors ; — all tlais, 
which Christianity enjoins upon us and reijuires of 
us, the American Constitution and Laws forbid, 
while the Government is resorting to eveiy expe- 
dient which ingenuity can deuse to distort mercy 
into treason, humanity into crime, — stirring up 
the basest pa.ssions of the ignorant, prejudiced, and 


vile against tlic friends of Freedom, and arraying 
the terrors of fine, imprisonment, and even death, 
against those who Avill not bow to the behests of 

This is the terrible condition of things amongst 
lis, which makes our Nation not alone a cruel and 
an oppressive, ])ut an impious and Idasphemous 

" The Union of these States," it has been truly 
said, " is cemented with blood, and is reared upon 
the prostrate bodies of three millions of Slaves." 
It is in such a laud that wo are now living ; a land 

Leicester, Massachusetts, Novembei-, 1851. 


^To Poiucifl, tl)c Sculptor. 

Upon hearing that he wa-s employe*! on a statue of (.'ullfomia anU 
one of America. 

Hold back tliy work, briolit sou of Gouiu.s, buLl ! 

Let ntit tlic spotless statue come too soon I 
Let " La Donida" fill thy laj. with gold, 

While thou dost tie her "Goddess'" golden 

Hold back " America " yet many a year. 
Rather than let the pure, white marble lie I 

Iler high-born Liberty has many a tear 
Of Marah bitterness, the while, to drv I 


Speed on the day ! Truth ! Justice ! Nature ! Art ! 

Art ! thou hast powers men have not all dis- 
cerned I 
Hide not the black vein in the marble's heart : 

Be no deep font of bitterness inurned ! 

Hold back the statue — not for Time, but Truth ! 

Oh do not lot the piu'e, white marble lie ! 
Carve out a Niobc for our weak youth, 

Straining the iufont to her bosom dry. 

Her youngest born is better worth thy while, 
With her bright gewgaws, and her feathery toys : 

Meantime, may Liberty, true goddess, smile 
An angel-blessing on her ghls and boys ! 

Hold back America ! or give her true, 

Clasping the viper to her deep-stung heart ! 

Oh hold her back till her warped soul renew 
Its vu-gin faith, — then give her pure, oh Art ! 


ii\}t UavoH lie 5tacl-l]olstein. 

B Y >I A H I A W E S T O N C H A P M A N . 

In no couutry, whore iiit'ii are trying to act in a 
luaiiner worthy of their origin and destiny, is the 
name of this noljle philanthropist uukunwii. In 
France, and in England especially, have all good 
men felt the encouragement given by his sacrifices, 
his counsel, his wide influence, and his illustrious 
name : — a name which he accomplished the diffi- 
cult task of still further illustrating Ijy the exercise 
of that Charity, so courageously militant, yet so 
touching in its gentleness, which is alone worthy to 
be called Christian Charity. He devoted himself 
in a peculiar manner to the abolition of the Slave- 


trade in France. None that heard them can ever 
forget the conscientiously precise and simple state- 
ments and explanations which he gave in 1826, 
while holding up to the shuddermg Assembly the 
chains and bars forged for the better securing of 

I am permitted by Madame la Baronue de 
Stael, his widow, to extract the following passage 
for the Liberty Bell. 

Paris, September, 1861. 


•Jo-l Tin; LIUKKTV ItKl.I,. 

U'Cl'scliunuu' la itlcme JOavtout. 

r A n L r, baron d e s t a e l - h o l s t e i n . 

O.N voudrait on vain se clissiinult-r ; les fruits 
amers dc resclavago sunt les luemes partout ; nul 
peuiilo, uuUo region, n't'chappe ;i son influence 
deletere. Les Etats-Unis la resseutcnt comme le 
Bresil, la Jamaique eonime la Guadeloupe, et, de 
legeres exceptions pres, la condition des nialheur- 
eux noirs est la niGme dans toutes les colonics ; un 
les conduit au travail, Ic fouet a la main, ci^mnie 
un vil betail ; on iniprime sur leur corps, avec un 
fer ohaud, le chiffre de leur niaitre. Les fenimes 
sent soumises a des chatimens corporals, dont la 
pudcur n'a jias moins a rougir que rbuuianite. 

l'esclavage la meme partout. 255 

Les fomillcs sont divisees sans pitic ; le perc est 
veiidu d'un cote, la mere de rautre, la fillc du 
troisieiiie ; ct il n'est pas rare de voir compris dans 
de pareilles rentes les enfans que Ic libertinage des 
maitres a fait naitre. La justice est sans force 
pour proteger rEsclavagc centre les caprices ou les 
eruautes d'un maitre barbare ; car Ic temoignage 
des negres n'est pas admissible devant les tribu- 
naux. Eufin. non content de cet amas de souf- 
frances, on va jusqu'a leur refuser les consolations 
de la piete ; car la religion de I'Evangile pourrait, 
dit-on, lour suggerer des pensees d'egalitc danger- 
cuses pour le repos de leurs maitres. 

Pronouce a Paris, 182G. 

•-i;'»(i IIIK LIliKUTV ULLL. 

Slaucnj tl)c !;iamc Cl'iicnjiyljcrc. 

BY THE U A K O N D E S T A E I. - H L S T E I -V . 

It is in vain to deny it ; the liitter fruits of 
Slavery ai'c the same everywhere. No people, no 
region, escapes its deleterious influences. The 
United States feel it, as do Brazil, Jamaica, and 
Guadeloui)C. With trifling exceptions, the condi- 
tion of the wretched blacks is the same in every 
colony. They are driven to work, whip in hand, 
like Lrutc beasts. Tlie mark of their master is 
branded into their bodies with a hut u'on. Women 
are subjected to bodily punishments, at which 
modesty, no less than humanity, blushes. Families 
are divided without pity. The fother is sold m 


one dii'cction, the mother in another, tlie daughter 
in a third ; and it is not uncommon to see, in- 
cluded in such sales, children who owe then' birth 
to the licentiousness of the masters. Justice is 
powerless to protect the Slaves against the caprices 
or the cruelty of a barbarous master ; for the testi- 
mony of negroes is not allowable ])efore the 
Courts. In fine, as if this load of affliction was not 
enough, they are even denied the consolations of 
devotion ; for the religion of the Gospel, it is 
affirmed, may suggest to them ideas of equality 
dangerous to the quiet of their masters. 

uttered in Paris, 1826. 



<rO IxOSGUtl). 

n Y W M . I, L Y 1) G A K K 1 S O X 

Amidst the roar of public acclamation — 
The tonipost-gi'oetings of a mighty thron<; — 

The cannon's tluuulering reverberation — 

The civic fete, with toast, and speech, and 
song — 

The irrand ■" All hail I '' nf a reioicinj;' nation. 
A million times rcj>eatcil loud and long — 


Can one lone vi»icc, all tremulous with feeling, 
Be heard by thee, glorified Kossuth, 


To all tliy noblest attributes appealiug, 

As one who knows Oppression's bitter fruit ; 

And to thy listening ear the truth revealing, 
When sycophants and cowards all are mute V 


My claims for audience thou wilt not discredit, 
For they are based on kindred love of Right ; 

And as for Liberty, world-wide to spread it, 
I, too, have suffered outrao'e, scorn and slio;ht ; 

Known what the dungeon is, and not to di-cad it ; 
And still am zealous in the moral fight. 


Thou di-eaded foe of Austrian oppression, 
With earnest love of liberty imbued, 

Since through America's strong intercession, 
Thy liberation has at last ensued, 

'T is meet thou comest here to give expression 
To thy sincere and heartfelt gratitude. 


But, while thy cibligation tlius ailniitthig, 
O lot it nut thy generous soul ensnare ; 

Act thou, while here, a manly part, Ijofitting 
Thy name and fame as one to ilo and dare, 

"Wliate'er the i)eril of the horn-, — acquitting 
Thyself right valiantly, a champion rare. 


Is it for thee to deal in glowing fiction ? 

To call this land great, glorious and fi'ee 'i 
To take no note of its sad dereliction 

From all that constitutes true liberty Y 
To feel upon thy spuit no restriction 

By aught that thou canst learn, or hear, or see V 


While this republic thou art warmly thankmg. 
For aiding thee once more to breathe free au% 


Thi'cc million Slaves their galling chains are 
Heart-broken, bleeding, crushed beyond eom- 
At public sale with swine and cattle ranking, 
The wretched victims of complete despair ! 


The government that thou ai-t now cxtollino- 
As weU-deserving measureless applause, 

By its strong arm these millions are enthralluig. 
And persecuting those who plead their cause : 

0, rank hypocrisy, and guilt appalling ! 

Like Draco's code, in blood are writ its laws. 


For 't is by law the father, son, and brother. 
Know nought of filial or parental ties ; 

By law the sister, daughter, wife, and mother, 
IMust clauu no kindi'ed here beneath the skies ; 


All, at the fiemli.sli bidding of another, 

Their God-given riglii- imi-t basely sacrilice. 

By law the fugitives from stripes and fetters, 
Who seek, like thee, a refuge safe and sure 

Frnni murderous tjTants and their vile abettors, 
-Vre hunted over uKJUutaiu, plain and moor ; 

Dragged back to Slavery, as absconding debtors, 
To toil, like In-utes, while life and strength 


By law 't is criminal a Slave to pity, 

To give him food and shelter from his foes ; 

For him no hiding-place in town or city ; 
He must be hunted wheresoe'er he goes ; 

And they are branded as a vile banditti, 
Who for his freedom nobly interpose ! 




Behold what scenes are in oui' conrts transph-uig ! 

Behohl on trial placed the good and brave, 
For disobedience to the law rcijuiring 

That he whom God made free should be a 
Slave ! 
Arraigned as traitors with a zeal untiring, 

And, if convicted, hurried to the grave ! 


Thou hast proclaimed, in tones like ringing clarion, 
That freedom is the gift of God to all ; 

That as a man, not as a mere Hungarian. 
In its defence thou 'It bravely stand or fall ; 

For Jew and Greek, for Scythian and Barbarian. 
Alike are summoned by its trumpet-call. 


I take thee at thy word, out-spoken hero 1 
Forget not those who are in bondage here ; 


Fur uur humanity now stiiuds iit zuru, 

Anil thrt'atc'n.s utterly to disappear ; 
Keljuko each plantation Nero ; 

Reprove our land in accents loud and clear ! 


While praising us wherein we are deserving, 

Tell us our faults, — expose our crime of 
crimes ; 

Be as the needle to the pole unswerving, 

And true to Freedom's standard in all climes ; 

Thus many a timid heart with coiu-age nerving 
To meet the mighty conflict of the times. 


Say Slavery is a stain upon our glory, 

Accursed of Heaven, and l)y the earth abhorred ; 
Show that our soil with negi'O Idood is gory. 

And certain are the judgments of the Lord ; 
So shall thy name immortal be in story, 

And thy fidelity the world applaud. 



Yet first, for tliis, thou slialt be execrated 

By tliose who now in crowds around thee press ; 

Tliy visit shall be sternly reprobated ; 

Thy friends and flatterers grow less and less ; 

Thy hopes for Hungary be dissipated ; 
America shall curse thee, and not IjIcss. 


But if, alas ! thy country's sad condition, 
And need of succor, a pretence be made, 

'\\'liy from thy lips should h\\ no admonition. 
Lest she should lose our sympathy and aid ; 

No blessing can attend thy selfish mission — 
The cause of freedom thou wilt have betrayed. 


0, shall the millions here in bondage sighing, 
Branded as beasts, and scourged with bloody 

■J<Wi Tin: i.iiinirv i;i:i.i,. 

Tlic jui'jM'iiv 111 I vijiii^ * iciilHlffyiiig, 
Hear not one word of {lity from tliy liji.s 't 

O 1(C not Junilt, to tliy rc'|iioacb umlying — 
Au'l tliy great fame save from a dire eelipHC I 


Courage, Kossitu ! Be true — fear not the trial I 
Pluck out tliy right eye. and thy right hand lo>e I 

Though on thy head he poured out every vial. 
To wear a jiadloek on thy lips refuse ! 

And thou shalt gain, through lofty self-denial, 
A brighter crown than all the world can choose. 

Boston, DeniilUr 10, IS.")!. 


ull)e £aiii of JJvogrcss anb Slaucrt). 


TiiE present a?pect of Slavery is not owing to 
any isolated circumstances, or mere incidental and 
temporary cause?. It is often repeated, '• Were it 
not for the Abolitionists, mucli might have been 
done in behalf of emancipation;" "the agitation 
of tlic subject has delayed the day of emancipa- 
tion ; " and so on, with like observations, which 
show how superficial a view is taken of the subject, 
and how great an ignorance prevails as to the great 
moral laws which underlie all human conduct, 
and manifest themselves not only in individual 
histories, but also in social movements. 


Some twenty years ago a few Uioii ami wuinen 
began to prote>it, in earnest tones, against this 
unrigliteous system of human IjunJage. It was 
like the eonseience uf an iniliviJual man, nttering 
its voice against some sin of whieh lie had long 
heen guilty, but to wliiih In- had been carelessly 
negligent. It was as if some youth had awakened 
to a sight of good and evil in the course on which 
he was walking. The first feelinc(S of uuill were 
keen, and his nature not wholly corrupt ; he 
1 darned himself in no measured terms, and the 
blest spheres of truth and virtue gleamed before 
his view. But tlie temptations which lured him on 
were more glittering still : wealth to be acquii-ed, 
power to be preserved, shame too reluctant to con- 
fess and abandon the evil course, — these caused 
him to close his ears to the divine voice, and plunge 
more deeply into the flood of excitement and action. 
He first turns aside and disobeys the teachings of 
conscience, then he seeks reasons to justify himself 
in Uis course, calls e\ il good, and good evil ; until, 


at last, darkness, delusion and utter abandonment 
overwhelm him. The least allusion to liis propen- 
sities or conduct goads him to madness, and he 
hurls denunciation and contempt upon all who 
speak of them, as mere pretenders to virtue, to 
humanity and religion. He immerses himself in 
sensual delights, and his appetites arc his gods. 

This is the law of moral development in regard 
to Slavery. The nation, instead of listening to 
the appeals which the conscience, called Abolition- 
ists, made for freedom and humanity, has deter- 
mined, from seeming motives of expediency, to go 
on its coui'se, though in utter violation of the fun- 
damental principles of liberty from which it ^^prung, 
and of the rehgion of love and freedom which it 
professed. Accordingly, the progress of Slavery 
has been with a constant and rapid stride. It 
rules our government, it steps over the boundaries 
of States, and clutches every citizen. It claims 
boldly for its support the Bible and the Constitu- 
tion. It ransacks all human history for its justiti- 


cation, nH<[ fxalts its head above all other institu- 
tions, claiming to be the perfection of a social 
Htate, absolutely essential to union, to safety, and 
to progress. 

Never was there a more slgniBcant illustration of 
the nature of wilful tranPgres.sion and unrepented 
.^in to corrupt the fountain of .'spiritual principles, to 
darken the intellect, and ab.sorb into it.?elf the 
liigher and holier sentiments of the heart. At the 
South, the first elements of civil liberty are utterly 
perverted, so that it is announced as the last dis- 
covery of political science, to be received as an 
axiom, '"that the doctrine of Equal Rifjhts is 
ridieulousl}' absurd,'' and that -'liberty is not a 
political right, but a personal distinction." And 
Clmstianity itself is held up and intei-preted as the 
corner-stone of Slavery. Religious conventions 
vote '• that it is compatible with the most fraternal 
regard," and that '"it is a Christian institution 
involving no moral evil.'" This, too, is the 
language of many presses and pulpits of the 


Xortli, unrelniked except by a few wlio arc called 
therefor disorganisers and fanatics. Not mere 
passive permission, but active cooperation, is 
demanded of "the £;ood citizen," in the catchino; 
of Fugitive Slaves, and there is an evident ten- 
dency to put down all expression of thought and 
feeling, and stop all agitation upon the subject. 

Now, all this is according to the law of moral 
deterioration, always operative where the voice of 
conscience is disregarded, and evil is persisted in. 
Those who do not desire the good, by degrees lose 
the perception of the true. The heart loving evil, 
at last brings the head over to maintain its cause. 
That conclusion ■uhich, from selfish motives, we 
desire to adopt, — that opinion, towards which the 
stream of our moral tendencies bears us along, — 
that system which is most congenial to our moral 
state, we soon can justify with plausible reasons, 
and can defend with subtile logic. The darkness 
soon appears as light, and he who began his course 
with the inspirations of truth and the in-gleamings 

'2t'2 TllK LIliKKiV IILI.I,. 

uf ilivine piiiiL-liilos, great foiimlation piiuciiilcs of 
(joil and liiuiianity, at prosents tlio nioiirnful 
ripectaolo of uiio wlio ••gropes about in iiuun-day, 
as the l)linil gropetli in darkness." And when we 
louk at suL-h an one, we can but say, 

"The eternal sorrow 
In lii- iinmonarchcd eyc.^, says, Day is done, 
Without the hope of morrow." 

To sueli a fate is this nation rapidly tending. 
The only way of arresting it, is to quicken into 
renewed activity the vital con.>:ciousness of the 
nation's ;^oul, and l.iriug it bade tu tlie .simple and 
primal truths of eonscieuee, — to the assertion of 
the inalieualde right of all men to •'life, libert}-, 
and the piu-.'^ult of happiness." 

As thus the present position of this nation in its 
aspect as a whole, is the natural result of eternal 
and immutable laws of moral progi-e.ssion, irrespec- 
tive of any mere incidental eireumstanccs, or any 
modes of temporary manifeftation i>f feeling on 


this subject, so, also, is the attitude and relative 
position of the Free and Slave States a necessary 
result of similarly operating principles. The 
Slaveholder loves power ; Slavery exists at the 
South, because it ministers to that inborn and per- 
petuallj' cherished passion of lordly donunation, of a 
desii'e of ruling, characteristic of the race of men 
who colonized the Southern part of this North 
American Continent. The system has charms for 
these, which those who do not possess so strongly 
this overmastering instinct, can scarcely imagine. 

The Slave, as such, is an unthrifty workman, a 
wasteful servant, and it is poor economy to employ 
him. Yery true ; but he is the property of his 
master ; he has no thought, will, or power of his 
own ; he has no wife or children, to whose welfare 
everything else is subordinate ; he can be flogged 
when he is saucy and rebellious, and the self-will 
of the master can be gratified at all times. The 
master has more power than any tyrant on the 
throne, within the sphere of his ownership. He 

274 TiiK i.iiii:i;t\ hkll. 

can dispose of the life, tlie liberty, aiul the happi- 
ness uf one, luio huinlretl, ur one thousand of his 
tellow-boings. A\'ere the Slave a mere article of 
property, like a hoi-se or an ox, he would be readily 
j)arti(l with, when it was .shown to be inexpedient 
to retain him. But there is an irresistibly sweet 
attrat tion to hin\ who pos.sesses the dispo.sition and 
trainiiii,' of the Southerner, the blood of a cavalier, 
and the culture of an eastern, irresjionsilde 
Sultan, with his satraps and his harem, — in being 
the ab.solutc master of men, women and children. 
He never will voluntarily release his gTa.'p, until 
his nature changes. His land may be exhausted, 
liis house tumble down over his head, and his life 
be without neatness or cheer, but spare him his 
Slaves, and he is comparatively content. The 
negro, as u Slave, is to him a pleasant ol)joet of 
contemplation ; but, as a FREE 3IAN, he turns 
from him with undisguised loathhig. He feels no 
prejudice against coloi-, when that color attaches to 
his property. His exquisite senses are not 


wounded by his body-servant as long as he is 
his Slave. It is not the mere services performed 
by the Slave that renders his presence tolerable ; 
but the love of power, the selfish passion of domi- 
nation is continually gratiiied. There is incense 
ever burning to his pride, and his lust of 

The Yankee, on the other hand, loves to work, 
to exercise his inventive genius, to create comfort 
and wealth around him. He employs workmen 
and servants in order to accomplish some end, 
which he cannot otherwise bring about. He would 
prefer to do the work himself, if he only had 
enough hands and feet. But he is only one man, 
and he wants to do many things. He has unly an 
average share of lust for power, and a good degree 
of willingness that others should be free as well as 
himself. He loves freedom and free-labor, because 
he sees that they are useful as his instruments, that 
they are in accordance with good common sense. 
Neither his original l>ias of nature, nor his educa- 


lion, nor liis cirL-uiiistaneos, li'iul hiiii to act from 
the exclusive love of jKJsscssing the mastery and 
making all others subservient to his will. But the 
SlavehoMer is nurttireil in tliii element of ilomina- 
tion, lie is born t(t rule, he thinks ; he always has 
luleJ. ami he always will rule. His memory can- 
not go Lack to the time when he was nut a young 
lortUing, invested with this absolute mantle of 
authority. '• Nursed, and educated, and daily 
exercised in tyranny," as Thomas Jefferson says, 
■ ' he eannot but be stamped by it with odious pecu- 
liarities." The system of Slavery roars a race of 
passionate lovers of power, a counterfeit feudal 
L-hivalry ; it is a system of feudal tyranny, without 
its redecmhig traits of knightly prowess, and high- 
souled honor. It makes its upholders overbearing 
and stormy at every check to their pride of self- 
will, for they have Iteen, in a great degree, unused 
to opposition, and much more unused to be subniis- 
-ive and to lie ruled. Tt makes a constituency 
contemptuous of labor and plodding industry, con- 


temptuous, too, of all who work witli tlieir own 
hands, dead to calm and rational pursuits, 
accustomed to violence, and wholly indifferent to 
the rights of man, as man. 

Now, with these data before us, we ought not to 
be surprised at the attitude of the Slave power, 
and the relative position of the Xorth and the 
South in this year, 1S52, in these United 
States of America, called a free Republic. The 
Greneral Grovernment has thrown its broad mantle 
over this corrupt institution of Slavery ; for the 
Slaveholder has held m his hand the helm of this 
country's destiny. A subtile, over-active combi- 
nation of the Slave-owning interest, devoted exclu- 
sively to political chicanery, has ruled the councils 
of the nation, filled the responsible ofiices, directed 
the policy, disposed of the vast patronage of place 
and profit to the detriment of Freedom, and in 
a word, directed everything according to its own 
good will and pleasm-e. While the North, true 

to its genius, has been engaged in the divine 

278 THK 1,1UKRTY BKLl.. 

labors of industry, or, as the polishcil Southron 
expresses it, " lias been working like niggers," the 
South, true to its genius, also has been ruling the 
government, and exercising its jtassion for power. 
Anil so well has it known how to play upon the 
worst elements of the Yaakec character, that it 
has subdued the risinn; flood of moral iniliwnation 
against Slavery, it has distracted the councils and 
designs of the North, and made both of the great 
political parties its slaves and subservient tools. 
Each is striving to get the more crumbs of those 
that fall from the Slaveholder's table ; each is 
endeavoring to bid the higher for his complacent 

This is, indeed, a noteworthy jiroblem, — a 
professedly Christian and republican nation march- 
ing with steady and i-ajiid strides towards the 
enthronement of human Slavery, while all other 
nations, barbarous as well as civilized, are casting 
off the chains from the Slave. To land upon 
the soil of Tunis makes free eveiy Slave ; to 


enter the harbors of the South entitles tlie Free- 
man of Massachusetts to be draoo-ed from the 


ship, " whose deck should be sacred as the tem- 
ple of God," to be lodged in jail, and sold as 
a Slave if the costs are not paid. It is a note- 
worthy problem how each office-holder throughout 
this vast country dares not open his mouth to 
plead for human rights ; how the least word upon 
the subject of Freedom and Slavery would cause 
him to lose the smiles of power and offend the pos- 
sessors of executive patronage ; how to pray for 
tlie oppressed in our country, excites more horror 
and commotion aud opposition than do the worst 
deeds of the oppressor. Here is something deep 
and radical, not temporary and incidental. 

From the first, an unconscious instinct, a hidden 
and resistless tendency, has urged on the Slave- 
holding interest. They have all along been 
"building better than they knew" for their 
cherislied institution. Their character, which is 
their fate, has been impelling them forward. 


That had laid the I'uuiulatioii, and muuaivd thu 
~<ti-iKturo, so aia.>isive, so towering, wliidi wt- now 
IjL'liold with a.^tunlshL'd wonder. Tliat ha.s liorne 
them onward in a career of arrogance, and of suc- 
••essfiil, pruud a.-siimption wliich has .scarcely a par- 
allel in the hi.story of the world. And the whole 
conduct of the North has been such as to increase 
this temper, and to fan this flame. It has resisted 
just enough to provoke opposition, and has yielded 
at the very moment wlien to yield was to secure 
the greatest triumph to the oppo.-^iug power. Its 
love cf trade and of wealtli fails when the pa.-.-ion 
for power is stimulated to the strongest vigor. 
The North is weakest at the \ ery point where the 
South is stroityest. Hence, the South has always 
remained the victor in the lield, and .Slavery has 
triumphed over Freedom. 

Had it only Lcen .seen what were the gicat 
moral laws underlying this whole matter, a remedy 
might easily have Ijccn applied at first. In Milton's 
time, it was niaintaijied that '• Prelaty " was 


essential to the stability of the regal power, as now 
it is maintained that " Slavery " is essential to our 
republican institutions. He proceeded to " tmtack 
this pleasant sophism," by the following fable. 
' ' Upon a tune the body summoned all the mem- 
bers to meet in the guild for the common good ; 
the head, by right, takes the fii-st seat, and next to 
it a huge and monstrous wen, little less than the 
head itself, growing to it by a narrow excreseency. 
The members, amazed, began to ask one another 
what he was that took place next their chief? 
None could resolve. Whereat the wen, though 
unwieldy, with much ado gets up and bespeaks the 
assembly to this purpose ; that, as in place he was 
near the head, so by due of merit ; that he was to 
it an ornament, and strength, and of special near 
relation ; and tliat if the head should fail, none 
were fitter than himself to step into his place ; 
therefore he thought it for the honor of the 
whole body, that such dignities and rich endow- 
ments should be decreed him, as did adorn and set 


out the uobli'.-t iiR'iiibLT.s. To this it was an.>\\L-iLii 
that it .should lie cousulteil. Tlieu \va.s a wi.-u uuil 
learned philosopher seat for, that kuew all the ehar- 
ters, laws, and tenures of the body. lie, soon per- 
leiving the ujatter, and wondering at tlie boldness 
of sueh a swollen tumor, — ' Wilt thou, ((|U<>th he) 
that art l»ut a liottle of vieious and hardened excre- 
ments, contend with the lawful and free-born mem- 
bers V Head thou art none ; what office Ijearest 
thou i What good can'st thou sliow by thee done 
to the common weal 'i ' The wen, not easily 
abashed, replies, ' tliat his office was his glory ; 
for so oft as tlie soul would retire to divine contem- 
plation, with him slie fiund the purest and (piietest 
retreat as being most remote from soil and dis- 
turbance.' "Lourdan,' ([uoth the philosopher; 
■ know that all the faculties of the soul are con- 
fined of old to their several vessels and ventricles, 
from which they cannot part without dissolution of 
the whole body ; and that thou containest no good 
thin"- in thee, and art to tlie hearl a foul dLsfigure- 


meiit aud burden, when I have cut tliee off and 
opened thee, as by the help of these hnplenients I 
will do now, all men shall see." 

We have not been as wise as the old philosopher. 
The great American wen remains yet in its place 
beside the head. It has received, -'dignities aud 
rich endowments," until its proportions arc truly 
•' huge and monstrous." When shall the philoso- 
pher appear, who, knowing all "the charters, 
laws and tenures" of the divine body of humanity, 
shall consign this unsightly excrescence of Slavery 
to its fitting place ! 

Lynn, Mass., October, 1851- 

2^4 Tin: I.IIIKUTV ItKLL. 

^lI)c iUamiiuittcLi 5laiH\ 

II Y T E L" T N G E O 11 G E . 

Toll, thou bmial-bell, toll ! 

Out over the land let tliy accents roll 

Till they roach the distant sea ; 
! that they spake of rest to my soul I 

But tliut may never be I 

When Marcos head lies low 

For him thou wilt sound no note of wo, 

He '11 rest in a nameless grave, 
And few and humble they who go 

To bur)' him by the wave. 


Toll for my master's rest ! 

The drum and the waving banner and crest 

Proclaun to near and far 
That these sad funeral rites are dressed 

For one who shone in war. 

When Marco's death-hour comes 

They '11 toll no liells, they '11 muffle no drums, — 

For 't was his humble lot 
To feed upon the scattered crumbs 

Of the feast his labor bought. 

I loved my master well, — 

Though often his blows on my body fell 

When sense was drowned in wine, — 
And tears that start at that sad bell 

On this dark visage shine. 

Why did I love him so V 

Was it because he loved me ? No ! — 


JUit his cliililhouel was uiy c-are, 
Ami a lovely balto was lie I trow, — 
In boyliutiil, O liow fair I 

And wliL'ii the waiHlruin beat 

Ami he rode to the fight with martial heat 

Marco must follow too, — 
And from the horses' trampling feet 

His wounded master drew. 

And many a weary hour 

When the tropical sun, with maddening powei". 

Blazed on this aged frame, 
I vainly prayed to God for a shower 

To cool his fever's flame. 

And strove, while I fanned his face, 
With talcs of his early days to chase 

The lago-ing hours of ijain, 
And liy his side kept my anxious place 

Till he rose in health again. 


I thankful tlien was be 

And promised to set me at liberty, 

And, just before his death, 
He took my hand and pronounced me free 

Even with his dying breath. 

But ah 1 his kinsmen say, 
Unless I agree to be sent away 

Across the Atlantic wave, 
The gift is naught this very day 

And I must die a Slave. 

They say he left me gold — 

A I'ich and a shining store I 'm told — 

But yet 't is not for me — 
'T is to pay the speculator cold 

To bear me over the sea. 

Then welcome Slavery ! 

Defend me, God, from such liberty I 


liSS TlIK LlIiKKTV IlKl.l.. 

1 will not tlie wave 
To (lie amiil strangers lieyond the sea, 
Far fmni my mother's grave. 

'T is not my native land ! 

Let them prate of its palms ami golden sand, 

T heed not what they say. 
My hea\-j' chain I will wear in tlii> land 

The rest f>f my little day. 



BY R I C H A 11 U 1> . AV i: B B . 

[The following letter was adili-cs.-eil to a •worshippor of soience, who 
returned from the United States m that well-known frame of mind 
so satLsfoetory to the Slaveholders, so mortifjing to the Abolitionists. 
He thought the former not .such very bad fellows, for he found 
them gentlemanly and hospitable, whilst ho talked of the " rabid 
doings" of the Abolitiouist.s with whom he had not consorted at 
all. This common result of a visit to " the land of the free and the 
home of the brave,"' as often arises from previous ignorance or 
indifference as from inhumanity or dishonesty. It is a conseiiueiice 
of a defective education, or unawakened moral sympathies. Many 
giants in theology, science, or politics, see nothing particular in 
American Slavery. The dilTusiou of sound information, respecting 
the doctrines and doings of the AboUtionists, would be of as much 
.substantial benefit to the world as any that proceeds from the chairs 
of our most learned professors. It would inculcate correct views of 
pohtical economy, and moral philosophy, and of the claims of prac- 
tical Christianity.] 

Dublin, September 25, 1851. 
My Dear Friend : — You say you have --a-s 
great a horror of American Shivery as I can 
have." You do not defend it in the ab.stract ; 


how can you seem to defeiul it in the concrete V 
Is it more defensible in prartit-e than in theory ? 
Have you seen any fcjnn of it in the practice of 
the best anil "kindest" Slaveliolder, in wliich it 
was not a denial of right, a robbery of the poor, a 
system of furced ignorance, moral darkness, and 
inevitable impurity V Do you not know that 
among the three and a half millions of Slaves, a 
legid marriage is iiidcnown ; and that for a woman 
to maintain her chastity, if she be young and 
attractive, Is impossible, except at the risk of life 
and limb ? The Slave's wife may be taken from 
him an}' day ; he may be forced to marry or live 
with any other woman ; and his daughters may be 
distributed to whomsoever his owner pleases. 
These things are done every hour. Female 
Slaves frequently hang themselves, drown them- 
selves, are tortured to death by the cowhide and 
the paddle, sooner than submit to pollution. It 
were idle to deny the crimes of Slavery ; they are 
its inevitable adjuncts ; if they were separated 


fi-om the system, and really put down by public 
opinion as well as by law, it could not live an 

You plead that the moderate drinker is prefer- 
able to the drimkard, and hence argue that the 
•'kind" Slaveholder is not to be condemned like 
those who make a cruel use of theu- power. Xow, 
in my opinion, if people really look upon the use 
of strong drink as a crime under all circumstances, 
they are right in saying that the more respectable 
the position of the moderate di'inker, the more 
dangerous is his example. I consider abstinence 
from intoxicating drinks as merely expedient in a 
country where the force of example is powerful, 
and the evils of intemperance prevalent. But to 
be a Slaveholder is something very different from 
indulging in a slight personal gratification. If he 
be an American and a Christian, he is a traitor to 
the Declaration of Independence and to the Xew 
Testament, — he is acting against the plainest pro- 
visions and declarations of both documents. He 

lilCj TIIK LlilEKlV UtLI.. 

is voluntarily in the position of a mean tyrant and 
ri)blj«.'r, and, by tliu force of his example, i.- a 
promoter of every crime. For every crime is 
inevitahle, where a t<ysteni jirevails whith Invetts 
a ciiiiiinunity, with its inliuite variety of 
!ioM.-> and L-liaractcr.s of mind, with ah.-olutc power 
over all in tiie position of Slave.-. 

There is not a Slaveholder in the Sla\e t?tate.< 
who is not so by hi.s own choice. He may fake 
his victims out of the State, and liberate thein 
whenever he chooses. There is no law to the con- 
trary. Though all the laws and all the policy of 
Slaveholding America are directed to foster and 
extend Slavery, and to maintain the willing Slave- 
holder in hi- guilty position, still, any num. really 
.sensible of its evils and enormities, may resign 
it at once. Many have done so to their great 
])0cuniary loss, but to the attainment of that 
peace " which i)a.<.-eth all understanding. " 

As to the pretence that Slavery was forcid ujion 
the Americans, and that the ]>re.*ent generation 


"cannot get rid of it if they would," the plea is 
transparently hypocritical. All experience shows 
that it is easy and safe to get rid of Slavery. It 
was easily done in Ilayti, — easily effected in the 
British and French West Indies. The bloodshed 
so often spoken of as having taken place in Hayti, 
was the consequence of attempts to reimpose 
Slavery upon the liberated blacks. 

It would have been as easy for the men of the 
American revolution to get rid of negro Slavery 
as of the British yoke ; but then love of mammon 
was fully equal to their love of liberty. The dis- 
position of the South is to extend Slavery in all 
dnections ; the Southrons seem to look on its 
maintenance as the great business and duty of 
their lives. 

AU the pretences and all the calumnies that im- 
peded the x\bolition of British West Indian 
Slavery, are repeated on a larger scale in the 
United States. Clarkson, Wilberforce. and Bux- 
ton, were maligned and traduced in the grossest 

204 THE LlIlKllTV liKlJ.. 

iiiaiUR-r. They were called fanatics, l•^i, 
ami iiKuliiieii. (leurgr the Tliinl liated Claiksou, 
ju.'-t as Daniel Weli.-tt-r hates and aflects to 
despise Garrison and his eoadjutors. Xobody 
now says that f'larksoii and Wilberforco retarded 
British emancipation ; that they only riveted the 
chains of the Slave ; that they were '• raliid " and 

Vour visit to the United States thrt-w you into 
association witli the scientific, the mercantile, the 
wealthy, the fashionable, who, too generally, abhor 
all Anti-Slavery action, because it interferes with 
their interests, their connections, their prejudices, 
and their ea«e, and disturbs the tranquillity of their 
churches. I am not surjtrised that you misunder- 
stand the Abolitionists, and talk of their being 
••rabid," though their most earnest efforts are but 
as an infant's struggles, compared with the ferocity 
with which the Slaveholders rave at the .^lighest 
interference with then- mean and diabolical 


system, ami their dctcnnination " to do as tliey 
please with their own." 

You speak of the opponents of Slavery as 
"Free Soilers." This is a mistake. Allow me 
to define the classes into which tlieir opponents are 

The Free Soilers are those whose purpose it is to 
prevent the extension of Slavery over those por- 
tions of the United States where it does not now 
exist, to abolish it in the District of Columbia, and 
to separate the National Government from all con- 
nection with Slavery, not rcfjuired liy the Consti- 
tution. But they swear to support the Constitu- 
tion, with its Pro-Slavery clauses, disclaim any 
intention of interfering, directly, with Slavery in 
the States where it exists. 

2d. The Liberty Party profess to consider the 
Constitution as an Anti-Shivery document ; and 
they say, if it were interpreted, as it should be, 
Slavery could no longer exist in any State which 
holds to that document, inasmuch as the State laws 


iiULst cunslst with tho Constitutiou of tlic United 

o(l. The ALulitioni.sts are tliey who direct their 
efforts to enlighten puljlic opinion, by exposing the 
enormity of the system in all its aspects ; Ijy show- 
ing the lujlhnvness of politicians and the sins of the 
Church ; l»y pointing out its political, social, and 
religious disadvantages. They use no physical 
violence, they preach none, they countenance none. 
They apjieal to the intellect and the conscience 
only. They judge the Slaveholder by his own 
standards, and point to facts for their justification. 
It is with this class that I sympathise. Their 
labors are carried on amidst great difficulties, and 
with an amount of energy, zeal, discretion and 
faithfulness that has never been surpa.ssed in any 
other philanthropic enterprise. 

As to the Northern men who go South iu pursuit 
uf gain, or to marry the planters' daughters, they 
do not, as yuu think, take the aii- of liberty along 
with them. They associate with the Slaveholders, 


and, imbued as they are beforehand with prcjudico 
against color, they readily imbibe the hideous 
morality of the South, and soon adopt the liowie- 
knifc, the pistol, and the whip. I believe it is gen- 
erally found that Xovthern immigTants are more 
cruel than native Southerners, and that the Irish 
and Scotch are worse than either. 

When I speak of Christianity in connection with 
Slaveholders, I speak of it as diluted for their 
purposes, to something that will, they hope, save 
then- souls without interfering with their ••' peculiar 
institution." A religion of justice, mercy, light, 
truth, and fair-play, they abhor, and would proba- 
bly hang the man who would persist in preaching 
it among them. 

Within the last tvro months, I have seen one 
man who was tarred and feathered, in South Caro- 
lina, for attempting to teach Slaves to read ; and 
anothei', a Baptist minister, who was ducked within 
an incli of his life, in Kentucky, for attempting 
to preach to Slaves. 


In roterring to the ck-adiioss to religious iuipres- 
sioiis eviiiecJ by some oljservers of the operations 
of nature, you remark, •' Sueh blindness is scarce- 
ly conceivable to some minds, yet to others the 
r)ppositc appears but the effect of a wanu imagina- 
tion. So inexplicable is the human mind I The 
moral evidence wliich stu-s one man to his centre, 
brings no conviction to anotlicr." This expresses 
something of my feelings towards those who regard 
without respect or sympathy the efforts of the 
enlightened and devoted Abolitionists, for the 
overthrow of a usurpation hostile to all religion, all 
truth, all liberty, all progi-ess, all science I ask 
yuu, whether is the more wonderful speculative 
blindness that you deplore, or this deadness and 
insensibility to enormous ci'inie and moral evil V 
And, what is that reliirion jrooil for, which has 
no 0})erative power, which is blind to the character 
of that system of legalized violence, rapine, cru- 
elty, and lust, called Slavery ".'' 

If Slavery is so cunning that you, with all your 


refinement, tenderness of spirit, deep feeling, 
religious sensibility, and scientific ardor, can be 
brouglit to make terms with it so tliat you count 
"respectable Slaveholders" among your friends, 
whilst you can hardly help despising the eloquent, 
self-sacrificing, high-minded Abolitionists, it is 
time to do something to expose its wickedness and 

I hope you will excuse this freedom, which I 
take because I value your opinion, and think your 
voice of weight on whatever side it is given. 

300 Tin: l.lllK.KTV HKI.L 

(l\]\: Hi nil. 

(Froiu tin- lienimn of Aua^tn.-iu.'' tirun.) 
II V II A n K I E T W . LIST. 

I sat on tlio liriiw of a mountain, 
rroni my country far away ; 

Bcnoatli me mountain ranges, 
Green vales, ami corn-fields lay. 

A ring from off my finger. 

In a quiet dream, I drew, 
A pledge of love from a dear one, 

Given at the last adieu. 

Before my eye, like a spy-glas-s, 
1 held the golden wieath, 

TUK lU.Nd. 


And peeped tlirougU tlie little circle, 

Down ou the world beaeatli. 


! beautiful green mountains ! 

And golden fields of grain I 
Well may so fair a picture 

Such fitting frame contain. 

Here glimmering cottages gaily 
The slope of the mountain throng, 

There sickle and scythe arc glancing, 
The afliuent stream along. 

And beyond, the plain, where proudly 

The river rolls away, 
And far off, the 1)lue mountains. 

With granite warders grey. 

And cities with white spires, 
And forests gi'con and grand. 

And clouds that, like my longing hoar; 
Are drawn to a distent land. 



Tlu' grt'fu i':irtli and the Heavens. 

Man and lii.s fair domains, 
All these, euein ling like a frame, 

My little ring contains. 

O I a beautiful pieture I 
To .sec the Heavens above, 

.Vnd all the land, thus fairly spanned, 
]}y the gulden ring of Love. 


fonvav'b ! 

(From IIofTman Von Kallerslolicn.) 
K Y T ■ W K X T W O It T H II I « (i I N S O N . 

It is a time of swell and flood, 

We linger on the strand ; 
And all that misilit to ns brin"' fi;ood 

Lies in the distant land. 

Oh forv/ard ! forward ! why stand still '! 

The flood will ne'er run dry ; 
Who through ihc wave not venture will, 

That land bhall never spy. 

KURATCM.— fa;;.- V-i'. u<\, lint-, lor • .-iwiliiin iii.ii."' r.aj - x-llin-