Chapter 9

But ours is the saddest part of this sad business. It would be hard enough to live surrounded by bondmen, even though we had never known any other way of life. Still, for one who had grown up with young slaves for playmates and for nurses, there might be much in the relation to quiet the conscience and soothe the sensibilities. Strong attachments, we all know, are often realized, even in a condition of things so anomalous. Perhaps, too, a large number of those about us would be as feeble in capacity as humble in their circumstances. One so born might tolerate such a position. But how different,--how, in comparison, and in every way intolerable, to be set as watchmen and interceptors of these, the brighter and the better, who, beyond all controversy, have outgrown the estate of bondage, and who are so loudly called of God to be freemen, that they will brave any peril in obedience to the call! How can we do this and still be men and Christians? Would our brethren at the south do it for us? If we have, in our haste, so covenanted, must we not rather pay the penalty than fulfil the bond? I recognize obedience to civil government as the solemn duty of all save _those who without cause are made outlaws by the State_. Government protects our hearths and shelters those who are dearest to us. But we can honor the law by submitting to its penalties as well as by complying with its demands, and the penalty would be my election when a man who had seized his manhood at the peril of his life should claim of me shelter and the means of escape. Before I refuse that, "may my right hand forget its cunning and my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth."

The Encroachment of the Slave-Power.

EXTRACT.

Such is the unholy and gigantic power that, leaving its territorial domain, has usurped the seat of freedom--that has established at our capitol a central despotism, and bends to its will with iron hand the Legislative, Executive, and Judicial branches of our Federal Government.

I have marvelled, sir, as you have, that the Spirit of Freedom in our fair land has so long slumbered beneath such an outrage. But I imagine her awakening. As she is about to awaken in her strength, and with the voice of the people, like the sound of many waters, rebuking this insolent slave-power, as Milton tells us its father and inventor was of old rebuked, as he sought to pass the bounds of his prison-house, and to darken with his presence the realms of light--

"And reckon'st thou thyself with spirits of Heaven, Hell-doom'd! and breath'st defiance here and scorn, Where I reign King, and to enrage thee more Thy King and Lord? Back to thy punishment False fugitive, and to thy speed add wings, Lest with a whip of scorpions I pursue Thy lingering, or with one stroke of this dart, Strange horrors seize thee and pangs unfelt before."

Faithfully yours,

The Dishonor of Labor.

The fundamental, essential cause of slavery and its concomitants, ignorance, degradation and suffering on the one side, as of idleness, prodigality and luxury-born disease on the other, is a false idea of the nature and offices of Labor.

Labor is not truly a curse, as has too long been asserted. It only becomes such through human perverseness, misconception and sin. It was no curse to the first pair in Eden, and will not be to their descendants, whenever and wherever the spirit of Eden shall pervade them. It is only a curse because too many seek to engross the product of others' work, yet do little or none themselves. If the secret were but out, _that no man can really enjoy more than his own moderate daily labor would produce_, and _none can truly enjoy this without doing the work_, the death-knell of Slavery in general--in its subtler as well as its grosser forms--would be rung. Until that truth shall be thoroughly diffused, the cunning and strong will be able to prey upon the simple and feeble, whether the latter be called slaves or something else.

The great reform required is not a work of hours nor of days, but of many years. It must first pervade our literature, and thence our current ideas and conversation, before it can be infused into the common life. Meanwhile, it would be well to remember that--

Every man who exchanges business for idleness, not because he has become too old or infirm to work, but because he has become rich enough to live without work;

Every man who educates his son for a profession, rather than a mechanical or agricultural calling, not because of that son's supposed fitness for the former rather than the latter, but because he imagines Law, Physic or Preaching, a more respectable, genteel vocation, than building houses or growing grain;

Every maiden who prefers in marriage a rich suitor of doubtful morals or scanty brains to a poor one, of sound principles, blameless life, good information and sound sense; Every mother who is pleased when her daughter receives marked attention from a rich lawyer or merchant, but frowns on the addresses of a young farmer or artisan of slender property, but of well-stored mind, good character and industrious, provident habits;

Every young man who, in choosing the sharer of his fireside and the future mother of his children, is less solicitous as to what she is good for, than as to how much she is worth;

Every youth who is trained to regard little work and much recompense--short business-hours and long dinners--as the chief ends of exertion and as assurances of a happy life;

Every teacher who thinks more of the wages than of the opportunities for usefulness afforded by his or her vocation;

Every rich Abolitionist, who is ashamed of being caught by distinguished visiters while digging in his garden or plowing in the field, and wishes them to understand that he so works, not for occupation, but for pastime; and

Every Abolition lecturer who would send a hireling two miles after a horse, whereon to ride three miles to fulfil his next appointment respectably; Though meaning no such thing, and perhaps shocked when it is suggested, is a practical and powerful upholder of the continued enslavement of our fellow-men.

In the faith of the "good time coming," I remain yours,

HORACE GREELEY.

NEW YORK, Nov. 7, 1853.

The Evils of Colonization

I speak the words of soberness and truth when I say, that the most inveterate, the most formidable, the deadliest enemy of the peace, prosperity, and happiness of the colored population of the United States, is that system of African colonization which originated in and is perpetuated by a worldly, Pharoah-like policy beneath the dignity of a magnanimous and Christian people;--a system which receives much of its vitality from _ad captandum_ appeals to popular prejudices, and to the unholy, grovelling passions of the canaille;--a system that interposes every possible obstacle in the way of the improvement and elevation of the colored man in the land of his birth;--that instigates the enactment of laws whose design and tendency are obviously to annoy him, to make him feel, while at home, that he is a stranger and a pilgrim--nay more,--to make him "wretched, and miserable, and poor, and blind, and naked;"--to make him "a hissing and a by-word," "a fugitive and a vagabond" throughout the American Union;--a system that is so irreconcilably opposed to the purpose of God in making "of _one_ blood all nations for to dwell on _all_ the face of the earth," that when the dying slaveholder, under the lashes of a guilty conscience, would give to his slaves unqualified freedom, it wickedly interposes, and persuades him that "to do justly and love mercy" would be to inflict an irreparable injury upon the community, and that to do his duty to God and his fellow-creatures, under the circumstances, he should bequeath to his surviving slaves the cruel alternative of _either expatriation to a far-off, pestilential clime, with the prospect of a premature death, or perpetual slavery, with its untold horrors, in his native land_. Against this most iniquitous system of persecution and proscription of an inoffensive people, for no other reason than that we wear the physical exterior given us in infinite wisdom and benevolence, I would record, nay _engrave_ with the pen of a diamond, my most emphatic and solemn protest; more especially would I do so, as the system, under animadversion, is most inconsistently fostered, and shamelessly lauded, by ministers of the gospel in the nineteenth century, as a scheme of Christian philanthropy! "O my soul, come not thou into their secret; unto their assembly, mine honor, be not thou united."

TORONTO, C. W., Oct. 31st.

The Basis of the American Constitution

"Happy," (said Washington, when announcing the treaty of peace to the army,) "thrice happy shall they be pronounced hereafter, who shall have contributed anything, who shall have performed the meanest office in erecting this stupendous fabric of freedom and empire on the broad basis of independency, who shall have assisted in protecting the Rights of Human Nature, and establishing an asylum for the poor and oppressed of all nations and religions."

You remember well that the Revolutionary Congress in the declaration of independence placed the momentous controversy between the Colonies and Great Britain on the absolute and inherent equality of all men. It is not, however, so well understood that that body closed its existence on the adoption of the Federal Constitution with this solemn injunction, addressed to the people of the United States: "Let it be remembered that it has ever been the pride and boast of America, that the Rights for which she contended were the Rights of Human Nature."

No one will contend that our Fathers, after effecting the Revolution and the independence of their country, by proclaiming this system of beneficent political philosophy, established an entirely different one in the constitution assigned to its government. This philosophy, then, is the basis of the American Constitution.

It is, moreover, a true philosophy, deduced from the nature of man and the character of the Creator. If there were no supreme law, then the world would be a scene of universal anarchy, resulting from the eternal conflict of peculiar institutions and antagonistic laws. There being such a universal law, if any human constitution and laws differing from it could have any authority, then that universal law could not be supreme. That supreme law is necessarily based on the equality of nations, of races, and of men. It is a simple, self-evident basis. One nation, race, or individual, may not oppress or injure another, because the safety and welfare of each is essential to the common safety and welfare of all. If all are not equal and free, then who is entitled to be free, and what evidence of his superiority can he bring from nature or revelation? All men necessarily have a common interest in the promulgation and maintenance of these principles, because it is equally in the nature of men to be content with the enjoyment of their just rights, and to be discontented under the privation of them. Just so far as these principles practically prevail, the stringency of government is safely relaxed, and peace and harmony obtain. But men cannot maintain these principles, or even comprehend them, without a very considerable advance in knowledge and virtue. The law of nations, designed to preserve peace among mankind, was unknown to the ancients. It has been perfected in our own times, by means of the more general dissemination of knowledge and practice of the virtues inculcated by Christianity. To disseminate knowledge, and to increase virtue therefore among men, is to establish and maintain the principles on which the recovery and preservation of their inherent natural rights depend; and the State that does this most faithfully, advances most effectually the common cause of Human Nature.

For myself, I am sure that this cause is not a dream, but a reality. Have not all men consciousness of a property in the memory of human transactions available for the same great purposes, the security of their individual rights, and the perfection of their individual happiness? Have not all men a consciousness of the same equal interest in the achievements of invention, in the instructions of philosophy, and in the solaces of music and the arts? And do not these achievements, instructions, and solaces, exert everywhere the same influences, and produce the same emotions in the bosoms of all men? Since all languages are convertible into each other, by correspondence with the same agents, objects, actions, and emotions, have not all men practically one common language? Since the constitutions and laws of all societies are only so many various definitions of the rights and duties of men as those rights and duties are learned from Nature and Revelation, have not all men practically one code of moral duty? Since the religions of men, in their various climes, are only so many different forms of their devotion towards a Supreme and Almighty Power entitled to their reverence and receiving it under the various names of Jehovah, Jove, and Lord, have not all men practically one religion? Since all men are seeking liberty and happiness for a season here, and to deserve and so to secure more perfect liberty and happiness somewhere in a future world, and, since they all substantially agree that these temporal and spiritual objects are to be attained only through the knowledge of truth and the practice of virtue, have not mankind practically one common pursuit through one common way of one common and equal hope and destiny?

If there had been no such common Humanity as I have insisted upon, then the American people would not have enjoyed the sympathies of mankind when establishing institutions of civil and religious liberty here, nor would their establishment here have awakened in the nations of Europe and of South America desires and hopes of similar institutions there. If there had been no such common Humanity, then we should not ever, since the American Revolution, have seen human society throughout the world divided into two parties, the high and the low--the one perpetually foreboding and earnestly hoping the downfall, and the other as confidently predicting and as sincerely desiring, the durability of Republican Institutions. If there had been no such common Humanity, then we should not have seen this tide of emigration from insular and continental Europe flowing into our country through the channels of the St. Lawrence, the Hudson, and the Mississippi,--ebbing, however, always with the occasional rise of the hopes of freedom abroad, and always swelling again into greater volume when those premature hopes subside. If there were no such common Humanity, then the poor of Great Britain would not be perpetually appealing to us against the oppression of landlords on their farms and work-masters in their manufactories and mines; and so, on the other hand, we should not be, as we are now, perpetually framing apologies to mankind for the continuance of African slavery among ourselves. If there were no such common Humanity, then the fame of Wallace would have long ago died away in his native mountains, and the name even of Washington would at most have been only a household word in Virginia, and not as it is now, a watchword of Hope and Progress throughout the world.

If there had been no such common Humanity, then when the civilization of Greece and Rome had been consumed by the fires of human passion, the nations of modern Europe could never have gathered from among its ashes the philosophy, the arts, and the religion, which were imperishable, and have reconstructed with those materials that better civilization, which, amid the conflicts and fall of political and ecclesiastical systems, has been constantly advancing towards perfection in every succeeding age. If there had been no such common Humanity, then the dark and massive Egyptian obelisk would not have everywhere reappeared in the sepulchral architecture of our own times, and the light and graceful orders of Greece and Italy would not as now have been the models of our villas and our dwellings, nor would the simple and lofty arch and the delicate tracery of Gothic design have been as it now is, everywhere consecrated to the service of religion.

If there had been no such common humanity, then would the sense of the obligation of the Decalogue have been confined to the despised nation who received it from Mount Sinai, and the prophecies of Jewish seers and the songs of Jewish bards would have perished forever with their temple, and never afterwards could they have become as they now are, the universal utterance of the spiritual emotions and hopes of mankind. If there had been no such common humanity, then certainly Europe and Africa, and even new America, would not, after the lapse of centuries, have recognized a common Redeemer, from all the sufferings and perils of human life, in a culprit who had been ignominiously executed in the obscure Roman province of Judea; nor would Europe have ever gone up in arms to Palestine, to wrest from the unbelieving Turk the tomb where that culprit had slept for only three days and nights after his descent from the cross,--much less would his traditionary instructions, preserved by fishermen and publicans, have become the chief agency in the renovation of human society, through after-coming ages.

WM. H. SEWARD.

A Wish.

"Could I embody and unbosom now, That which is most within me;--could I wreak My thoughts upon expression, and thus throw Soul, heart, mind, passions, feelings strong or weak, All that I would have sought, and all I seek, Bear, know, and feel, and breathe,--into _one_ word, And that one word were lightning"--

I would speak it, not to crush the oppressor, but to melt the chains of slave and master, so that _both_ should go free.

NEW YORK, November 8th, 1853.

A Dialogue.

SCENE.--A BREAKFAST TABLE.

MRS. GOODMAN, _a widow_. FRANK GOODMAN, _her son_. MR. FREEMAN, _a Southern gentleman, brother to Mrs. Goodman_. MR. DRYMAN, _a boarder_.

MR. FREEMAN. (_Sipping his coffee and looking over the morning paper_) reads--

"The performance of Uncle Tom's Cabin attracts to the theatre very unusual audiences. In the "genteel row" last evening, we observed the strictest religionists of the day, not excepting puritanic Presbyterians, and the sober disciples of Wesley and Fox. For ourselves, we must candidly confess we have never witnessed such a _play_ upon all the emotions of which humanity is susceptible. Mrs. Stowe, however unworthy the name of Patriot, is at least entitled to the credit of seizing the great thought of the age, and embodying it in such a form as to make it presentable to every order of mind and every class of society. She says, in effect, to Legislators, let me furnish your amusements, and I care not who makes your laws."

* * * * *

Politicians would do well to look to this--(_laying down the paper and speaking in a tone of impatience_)--so, so, Fanaticism is leading to its legitimate results. Uncle Tom in our parlors, Uncle Tom in our pulpits, and Uncle Tom in our plays.

_Mr. Dryman._ Truly "he eateth with publicans and sinners."

_Mr. F._ (_Not noticing Mr. D's remark._) One would think this last appropriation of the vaunted hero would be sufficient to convince the most radical of the demoralizing influence of these publications.

_Frank._ (_Modestly._) How differently people judge. Why, last evening, when I saw crowds of the hardened and dissipated shedding tears of honest sympathy, when Uncle Tom and Eva sang,

"I see a band of spirits bright, And conquering palms they bear"--

I felt that the moral sentiment was asserting its supremacy even in places of amusement.

_Mr. F._ Worse and worse, my nephew and namesake a theatre-goer.

_Mr. D._ (_In an under tone._) Namesake! "that's the unkindest cut of all."

_Frank._ Not exactly a theatre-goer, uncle, though I confess I might be, were the performance always as excellent as last evening.

_Mrs. Goodman._ Frank, my son, I hope thee will not attempt to drink from a dirty pool because a pure stream flows into it.

_Frank._ But the rank and file of Democracy drank deep libations to Liberty there, mother.

_Mr. D._ (_Passing his cup._) "Drink deep or taste not of the Pierian spring."

_Mr. F._ (_Sarcastically._) Take care, you'll be found using the products of slave labor!

_Frank._ (_Jocosely._)

"Think how many backs have smarted, For the sweets," &c.

Take a bit of toast, Mr. Dryman, our northern products are perfectly innocent, you know?

_Mr. D._ (_Helping himself bountifully._) "Ask no questions for conscience's sake."

_Mr. F._ The practice of you Northerners is consistent with your professions.

_Mr. D._ "Consistency, thou art a jewel!"

_Frank._ It is very hard to be consistent in this world, uncle. My mother once made a resolution to use nothing polluted by Intemperance or Oppression, but finding that it required her to take constant thought "what we should eat and drink, and wherewithal we should be clothed," she was fain to relax her discipline.

_Mrs. G._ Frank, thee must not transcend the truth in thy mirthfulness.

_Frank._ Well, mother, did not some experiment of the kind lead to the conclusion, that I might exercise my freedom in worldly amusements?

_Mrs. G._ Yes, my son, but thy enthusiasm about the theatre makes me fear I have gone beyond my light.

_Mr. F._ (_Bitterly._) Never fear, sister, the young man will soon prove that Abolition Societies and Theatres are admirable schools of morals.

_Frank._ Uncle Tom at least has a good moral, and so has William Tell and Pizarro--indeed I do not remember of ever reading a play which had not.

_Mr. F._ (_In a tone of irony._) When I see a young man spending his time at the theatre, in search of good morals, I think he "pays too dear for his whistle."

_Mrs. G._ And yet brother Frank speaks the truth. What success does thee think a play would meet, which should represent such a man as Uncle Tom yielding his principles and faith to the will of a Legree?

_Mr. F._ (_With great asperity._) Do you, too, Rebecca, advocate theatres?

_Mrs. G._ It is not of theatres, but of books, that I am speaking. Does thee recollect any work, the whole plot and design of which is made to turn upon the triumph of the wicked over the good?

_Mr. F._ (_Musing._) Why--I--don't remember now--

_Frank._ (_In great surprise._) Why, mother, are there no books written in favor of Slavery?

_Mrs. G._ I cannot think of any book which can be said to be written for Slavery, in the sense that Uncle Tom's Cabin is written against it. Such a work is, I think, impossible. No poet would attempt to portray its moral aspects, and delineate its beauties, with the idea of exciting our admiration and approval.

_Mr. F._ Spoken just like a woman! Your sex always seize upon some thought gained through the sensibilities, and then bring in a decision without farther investigation.

_Frank._ And is not the instinct of a woman a more perfect guide in morals, than the reason of man?

_Mr. F._ (_Sarcastically._) Certainly--if it direct her son to the theatre.

_Mr. D._ Or teach him the supremacy of the "Higher Law."

_Frank._ (_With warmth_.) My mother did not direct me to the theatre, sir; she has taught me to love better things;--to her I owe all the lofty sentiments of virtue and truth.