Part 7

It is not because of any one thing that he has done or said that Howe is important. It is because he was by nature endowed with an unconscious, spontaneous vision of truth in regard to the defective classes. When dealing with them, he sees society as a whole and these classes as parts of it. He saw that the whole of society must be used in order to work out this problem. The state and the individual, the influence of Christ and the value of money; in fact all social factors are, in Howe’s mind, viewed as elements in that solid mesh and transparent unity of suffering force--humanity. When he deals with an institution, or a theory of criminal reform, he deals with it as an agent of the invisible. It is to him no more than a device or a symbol. Now, when we remember that he was, above all things, a practical man, a man of means to ends, a man of experience and of the counting house, we are prepared to realize the magnitude of his intellect.

It was, however, only when Howe was thinking and scheming over the fate of the dependent classes that his mind worked in this transcendent way. In other matters he was an ordinary man, a man of headaches and irritability, a man of doubts and errors.

I know of nothing that so marks the inscrutability of human nature as does the history of Dr. Howe’s relation to the slavery question. That question had been in active eruption ever since 1830. Dr. Howe, one of the most sensitive philanthropists known to history, lived in daily contact with the question for many years before he became effectively interested. Here was a dependent class indeed--the slaves: here was a question of human suffering compared to which the sorrows of his deaf-mutes and half idiots were trifling accidents, the inevitable percentage of pain that fringes all civilization. Compared to the horrors of slavery the evils which excited Dr. Howe’s compassion were imperceptible. Hardly ever have more telling exhibitions been unrolled before benevolent people than those which were within the daily repertory of the abolitionists, after Garrison had begun his work. Nevertheless, for Dr. Howe the hour had not yet struck.

At last he became drawn into the slavery question and, in fact, almost killed himself over it. There remains a great difference, however, between his slavery work and his other work. When it comes to slavery, Dr. Howe’s devotion is the same, his labors are the same; but his genius is not the same. It was not given to any man to understand the slavery question in the way that Howe understood the cause of the blind or the idiotic. Indeed, slavery was not a question, but a condition, an atmosphere, a thing so close and clinging, so inherent and ingrown that, like the shirt of Nessus, it brought the flesh with it when it was removed. Poor or great, sinner or saint, every man stood on an equality before the moral problems of slavery, and underwent either conversion or corruption when the wave smote him.

It was not until 1846 that Dr. Howe’s conversion took place. For seventeen years the abolitionists had been dancing like dervishes before him; and as late as February 3, 1846, he wrote a note declining Dr. H. I. Bowditch’s invitation to an anti-slavery meeting, in such terms of polite deprecation as might have been employed by George Ticknor:--“My duties at home will prevent my joining you at eleven o’clock....

“I carefully cultivate my few social relations with slave-holders, because I find I can do so, and yet say to them _undisguisedly_ that slavery is the great _mistake_, as well as the great _sin_ of the age. Now, do what they may, they cannot prevent such words from a friend making some impression upon their hearts, which are as hard as millstones to denunciations from an enemy. It is not enmity and force, but love and reason, that are to be used in the coming strife.”...

Then comes a sudden illumination, a break, a discovery, a cry of anguish, and the curse of slavery has leaped like a wild-cat upon the conscience of Dr. Howe. He runs up and down with pain:--“Indeed, I for one can say that I would rather be in the place of the victim whom they are at this moment sending away into bondage--I would rather be in his place than in theirs! Ay! through the rest of my earthly life I would rather be a driven slave upon a Louisiana plantation than roll in their wealth and bear the burden of their guilt.”... “I feel as though I had swallowed a pepper corn, when I think that no one _dares_ to be made a martyr of in the cause of humanity.”... “Government must be regarded as a divine institution! Ay! and so must right and justice be regarded as divine institutions; older, more sacred, more imperative; and when they clash, let the first be as the potsherd against the granite.”... “O! for a man among our leaders who fears neither God, man nor devil, but loves and trusts the first so much as to fear nothing but what casts a veil over the face of truth. We must have done with expediency; we must cease to look into history, into precedents, into books for rules of action, and look only into the honest and high purposes of our own hearts; that is, when we are sure we have cast out the evil passions from them.”... “Would to God I could begin my life again or even begin a new one from this moment, and go upon the ground that no fault or error or shortcoming should ever be covered up from my own eyes or those of others.”...

His words, just quoted, are the words of a prophet; and yet he was destined, in practical politics, to become an adherent of half-measures, and a make-weight for self-seekers. It was as the result of one of the fugitive slave cases and in the year 1846 that Dr. Howe became immersed in the anti-slavery cause. He helped to edit the “Commonwealth,” the organ of the Conscience Whigs: he ran for office, and he became the head of a vigilance committee, whose activity continued down to the outbreak of the war. Now, as everyone knows, vigilance committees are called into being in cases when law has broken down. The object of such committees is to do things which are necessary, but illegal; hence their doings are secret. It was one of the strange features of the life of that period that the most beautiful natures of the age, the most tender, the most unselfish, the most romantic, felt called upon to do violent, lawless and bloody work. To threaten bad men with condign punishment, to organize the rescue of prisoners, to condone theft, perjury and manslaughter when committed by their own partisans--such were the duties of a vigilance committee.

The beginning of this vigilance work was the underground railroad which existed all over the North, and even to some extent in the border slave states. To help fugitive slaves on their way to freedom became a passionate occupation of young and old, however, only after Garrison’s doctrines had given a religious sanction to the practice. Social conditions in America, at this time, led to a confusion of moral ideas and sometimes to a perversion of the moral sense. We are familiar with the perplexities that distressed tender-hearted people in the border free states. In the border slave states moral questions were equally complex. There is a page or two in Huckleberry Finn in which Mark Twain has depicted the feelings of a boy, living in the border slave state Missouri, as to the ethics of helping a runaway slave to escape. Surely the passage is among the greatest pages which that great author ever penned....

I says; “All right; but wait a minute. There’s one more thing--a thing that nobody don’t know but me. And that is, there’s a nigger here that I’m trying to steal out of slavery, and his name is Jim--old Miss Watson’s Jim.”

He says: “What! Why Jim is--” He stopped and went to studying.

I says: “I know what you’ll say. You’ll say its dirty, low-down business; but what if it is? _I’m_ low down; and I’m going to steal him and I want you to keep mum and not let on. Will you?”

His eye lit up, and he says: “I’ll _help_ you steal him!”

Well, I let go all holts then, like I was shot. It was the most astonishing speech I ever heard--and I’m bound to say Tom Sawyer fell considerable in my estimation. Only I couldn’t believe it. Tom Sawyer a _nigger stealer_!...

Well, one thing was dead sure, and that was that Tom Sawyer was in earnest, and was actually going to help steal that nigger out of slavery. That was the thing that was too many for me. Here was a boy that was respectable and well brung up; and had a character to lose, and folks at home that had characters; and he was bright and not leather-headed; and knowing and not ignorant, and not mean, but kind; and yet here he was, without any more pride, or rightness, or feeling, than to stoop to this business, and make himself a shame, and his family a shame, before everybody. I _couldn’t_ understand it no way at all. It was outrageous, and I knowed I ought to just up and tell him so; and so be his true friend, and let him quit the thing right where he was and save himself. And I _did_ start to tell him; but he shut me up and says: “Don’t you reckon I know what I’m about?” “Yes.” “Didn’t I say I’d steal him?” “Yes.” “Well, then.” That’s all he said and that’s all I said....

That the angel-minded Dr. Howe should have headed a vigilance committee was no more extraordinary than many other strange and terrible things in that epoch. Dr. Howe was perhaps by nature and early experience fitted to head such a committee; but nothing could be farther removed from such work than the twenty years of peaceful work in philanthropy which had followed his stormy youth; above all, he was no longer young. At forty-five a man cannot learn a new trade. Howe could not meet the world on a political basis or express himself through political agencies--whether through the constitutional vehicles of legislature, party, and public meeting--or through the improvised vehicles of vigilance committee and underground railroad. His activity in both of these fields was splendid, yet lame; it was the work of a man who only half understood his own function. In his own work, the only realities for him are metaphysical realities. But in politics, he has the mind of an ordinary man; his thought creeps from point to point, treats human institutions with respect, and subordinates itself to the opinions of other people. It is positively amazing to find Howe, the pioneer, the fire-brand--or rather the torch-bearer--in one department of thought, becoming a mere linkboy in another and nearly allied department.

Howe’s incapacity for leadership in politics was first shown during the Freesoil movement. The “Coalition” which the Freesoilers made with the Democrats in Massachusetts, soon after Webster’s defection in 1850, was one of those political unions which are nowadays called “deals.” Persons of conflicting principles join together in order to defeat a common opponent, and, of course, to divide the offices. Some people object to such deals on the ground that there is always an element of betrayal, a lie, a debauchery of conscience somewhere and somehow involved in them.

The coalition which Dr. Howe’s associates entered into was very famous at the time and thereafter. I will not attempt to define its immorality; but I will only say that it was, as Richard H. Dana Jr. notes in his diary, “an error in moral science.” Dr. Howe did not, in political matters, understand his own nature sufficiently to keep clear of this coalition. He plunged into it. He was never happy thereafter. It violated his conscience and plagued him for years. He could never forgive the leaders of the Freesoil party, nor forget the treason. He writes to Sumner in 1852: “I have always had an instinct in me which I have never been able to body forth clearly--which tells me that all this manœuvring and political expediency is all wrong, and that each man should go for the right regardless of others.”

And again in 1853: “Now every element in my nature rises up indignantly at the thought of our principles being bartered for considerations of a personal and selfish nature; and all my feelings bid me do what my reason forbids--that is, make open war, cause a clean split, appeal to the Conscience Whigs who formed the nucleus of our party, and march out of the ranks with a banner of our own.” He makes moan throughout six years over this coalition. As late as 1857 he still grinds his teeth. “Not even Sumner’s election was worth the price paid by the coalition.”

This is all admirable; but it is not enough. Had Howe understood reform politics as he understood philanthropy, had he had an early training in reform politics, he would have taken a sledge-hammer and battered the coalition in public. If the matter had occurred in philanthropy, Howe would have cleared the air. If, for instance, Dr. Howe had returned from Europe and found Charles Sumner giving Laura Bridgman dogmatic religious instruction, he would have stopped it; yes, even if he had been obliged to placard the town against the Sumner. But in politics he was helpless. As to the Whigs, he says: “I have done what I could, for where else can I go? Under what organization can I fight in this terrible emergency?”

Alas, there is no banner for a man like Howe to fight under. He must weave his own banner. For his own philanthropic work, Dr. Howe had done this; but he could not do it for politics. The anti-slavery problems came to him on top of his multitudinous activities. He was already superhumanly active, but he was a man incapable of refusing work which was offered to him. He took on the abolition duties in addition to his regular work. His health broke down almost immediately; but there was no leisure for him to attend to his health. His solution of all problems was by work, work, work. He was not, it must be remembered, of a thoughtful nature. His thinking was usually done for him by the energy of his temperament, which handed him a list of agenda each morning and at night sent him to the slumbers of fatigue. Thus there was no very distinct philosophy underlying his course of action in regard to slavery--no historic point of view, or reasoned theory, no illumination.

It is very terrible to see Howe making journeys to Kansas at a time when he should have been in bed with a sick-nurse beside him. Pegasus at the plow is good; but this was not exactly the right plow for Howe. The sight is a sublime one, all the same. The old buccaneer retains an instinctive belief in force. “Force is not yet eliminated from the means employed by God, bloodshed is necessary, bloodshed will come. But when, but how?--Under what circumstances may we resort to it?” This is the burden of many letters. In the meantime he and his vigilance committee were getting into deeper water all the time with the fugitive slave law, and with the still fiercer Kansas-Nebraska problems, until finally matters were brought to a crisis by John Brown’s raid, of which I must say a few words here.

It is wrong to compare John Brown with Joan of Arc, as is so often done. John Brown’s name is stained with massacre. He is a spirit of a far lower heaven than Joan of Arc. And yet he is to be classified under Joan of Arc; because he is an example of the symbolism inherent in human nature and in human society. Everyone understands both Joan of Arc and John Brown, but nobody can explain them. It takes an epoch, it takes the whole of a society, it takes a national and religious birthpang to produce either Joan of Arc or John Brown. Everyone living at the time takes some part in the episode; and thereafter, the story remains as a symbol, an epitome of the national and religious idea, which was born through the crisis. John Brown and his raid are an epitome, a popular summary of the history of the United States between the Missouri Compromise and the Gettysburg celebration. Not a child has been born in the country since his death to whom John Brown does not symbolize the thing that happened to the heart and brain of the American people between 1820 and 1865. He is as big as a myth, and the story of him is an immortal legend--perhaps the only one in our history.

The relation which the anti-slavery people bore to the John Brown episode is that of a chorus: they hailed the coming of the Lord. It is also that of a client: they backed him with money and arms. They are the link between the myth and the fact. They lived inside the swirl of rhapsody which was bearing Brown across the horizon. The progress of righteous-minded law-breaking, which began as soon as Garrison had explained the iniquity of the Federal Constitution, was very rapid after the passage of the fugitive slave law in 1850. To help fugitive slaves escape was a good training for those who were to supply anti-slavery swords and guns to the private war in Kansas. Criticism stands dumb before this situation: no man can tell what he himself would have done under the circumstances. The anti-slavery scholars and saints regarded themselves as the representatives of law and order in fomenting this carnage; and perhaps they were.

But the mind of John Brown took one more stride, and imagined a holy war to be begun through a slave insurrection. Nobody could have stopped Brown: he was wound up: he was going to do the thing. He naturally came to his Eastern partisans for support, and of course obtained a different degree of support from each individual to whom his horrifying scheme was disclosed. The people who would listen sifted themselves down by natural law to half a dozen, and among this half-dozen was Dr. Howe. Brown moved about under assumed names, and his accomplices corresponded in cryptic language, raising money and arms. The natural power and goodness of the man cast a spell over many who met him. It was more than a spell, it was the presence and shadow of martyrdom. And it fell upon the imagination of enthusiasts who had spent years of their lives in romantic, sacrificial law-breaking. More than this: John Brown was the living embodiment of an idea with which the anti-slavery mind was always darkly battling--the idea of atonement, of vicarious suffering. Howe and his associates somehow felt that they would be untrue to themselves--false to God--if they did not help John Brown, even if he were going to do something that would not bear the telling. John Brown thus fulfilled the dreams of the abolitionists; he was their man. He portended bloodshed--salvation through bloodshed. It was to come. Brown himself hardly knew his own significance or he would have demanded personal service, not money, from his patrons. Suppose John Brown had said to Gerrit Smith, and to Sanborn and Howe and Higginson and Stearns: “I do not want your money, but come with me. And if you will not come now, yet next year you will come--and the year after--you, and your sons by the thousand. You will follow me and you will not return, as I shall not return.”

Brown did not say this, but the truth of it was in the sky already, and when the raid occurred at Harper’s Ferry men shuddered not only with horror, but with awe. The raid took place. It took place, not in Kansas, a long way off, but within a few miles of Washington. Innocent men were killed. No one could tell whether a slave insurrection was to follow. A wave of panic swept across the South, and of something not unlike panic across the North. The keynote was struck. There was no doubt about that, anywhere. The conspirators, that is to say Brown’s secret committee, fled to Canada, with the exception of Gerrit Smith who went into an asylum--and of Higginson who went about his business as usual. They burnt their papers and look legal advice as to the law concerning conspiracy and armed rebellion. Dr. Howe, under the belief that his doing so would somehow shield Brown, published a card disclaiming knowledge and complicity in the raid.

It is interesting to note the various reasons which moved the conspirators to flight, at least to contrast the reasons which they afterward gave for their several sudden disappearances. Sanborn ran away because he feared that if the conspirators were arrested, their personal insignificance might damage the cause. It seemed to him “very important that the really small extent of any movement should be concealed and its reach and character exaggerated.” But Howe published his disclaimer for the very opposite reason. He wished that the smallness of extent and reach of the movement should be thoroughly well exposed to the public. This, he thought, would “rather help Brown than otherwise, because if he were shown to be an isolated individual acting for himself and not the agent of others, the affair would be less formidable and the desire for vengeance less strong.” Perhaps anyone implicated in a terrible crime is apt to discover some reason why his own temporary disappearance will serve the cause of righteousness. At any rate, it is too much to expect the humor of the situation to appear very strongly in the correspondence of the secret committee. Dr. Howe afterward went to Washington to testify in the investigation which followed, partly, no doubt, that he might rectify the impression created by his card, which had led people to believe that he knew less of Brown’s plans than was the case.

This momentary concern for their own safety a little tarnishes the heroic glamor that hangs about the conspirators, and which in another age would have been quickly restored by their execution. But they were really safe. All that the South had hoped for was to implicate the leaders of the Republican party in the raid, and in this it failed. The panic which seized all the conspirators except Higginson was a natural reaction in men who were dominated by another man’s idea, sustained above themselves by another man’s will and thought. They believed they understood; but they did not understand. When the climax came--a climax proper to that will and thought--they were thrown to the ground. They forsook him and fled. This does not mean that when their own hour shall come these same men will not die cheerfully at the stake or on the cross.

One word must be added as to the effect of casuistry upon the intellect of those enthusiasts who backed Brown while begging him to be gentle. Dr. Howe writes to Theodore Parker: “And I sent him a draft of fifty dollars as an earnest of my confidence in him and faith of his adhesion to what he so often assured me was his purpose--to avoid bloodshed and servile insurrection.” Now Brown’s previous history and avowed intentions made bloodshed an integral part of his scheme; and no one knew this better than the secret committee. But destiny endows each man with so much blindness as enables him to fulfil his part in the drama of history. It was necessary for Dr. Howe to support John Brown. His nature required it of him. In order to do so, it was necessary for Howe to undergo a slight mental obfuscation; and lo, how easily it was accomplished! He gives Brown a pistol and begs him not to use it; he seriously remonstrates with Brown as to the stealing of horses, even when done in aiding slaves to escape. This is not humbug but hallucination.

It should no more be counted against Howe that he could not express himself through the medium of politics than it is counted against Goethe that he could not paint. To have mastered one vehicle is enough for one man in this world. To have seen life from a point of view which unifies contradictions, merges thought with feeling, identifies religion and common sense, is enough to give a man a niche in the temple of humanity--yes, even though this power of vision is accorded to him only at moments, or when he is dealing with a particular subject, or when he has a violin or a paint-brush in his hand.