Remarkable experiences—The Edmonson Sisters—Pinky and her
Freedom-Ring—Slave Auction in Plymouth Church—John Brown—The Wrong
and Right Way—Election of Abraham Lincoln—Secession—Buchanan’s Fast.
While these larger public matters were engaging his attention there was
an equally engrossing field of private activity in which he was
constantly engaged, and which developed into some very peculiar and
remarkable experiences. As early as 1848 we find him conducting an
auction sale, in New York City, of the two Edmonson sisters.
This case at the time attracted wide attention. Two respectable young
women of light complexion, living in Washington City, had the misfortune
to be born while the mother was a slave. After they had grown to
womanhood they found that the former owner of their parent was about to
sell them to a slave-dealer for exportation to New Orleans and the
market. Despairing of being able to raise the exorbitant sum at which
they were valued, and not knowing how to escape from a doom far more
dreadful than death, they risked everything by going on board the
_Pearl_ schooner with seventy-seven others, in the hope of escaping to a
land of liberty and purity. The ship was captured and they were hurried
off to Slater’s Den, Baltimore, and thence to New Orleans. By some most
extraordinary providences they were brought back from New Orleans to
Washington, and their sad case at length reached the ears of those who
had hearts to feel and means to save. A meeting was held in the
Tabernacle October 23, at which Dr. Dowling and Mr. Beecher spoke with
so much effect that $2,200 were raised and the captives were free. Mr.
Beecher’s speech is described by an eye-witness, himself a minister, as
beyond anything he has ever heard before or since. He extemporized there
on the stage an auction of a Christian slave. The enumeration of his
qualities by the auctioneer, and the bids that followed, were given by
the speaker in perfect character. He made the scene as realistic as one
of Hogarth’s pictures and as lurid as a Rembrandt. Physical excellences,
mental, moral, and spiritual qualities, are each dwelt on with an
emphasis and moving effect that proved that he would have made a capital
auctioneer if he had chosen that business.
“And more than all that, gentlemen, they say he is one of those praying
Methodist niggers; who bids? A thousand—fifteen hundred—two
thousand—twenty-five hundred! Going, going! last call! _Gone!_”
The audience were wrought up to a perfect frenzy of excitement while
that picture was being drawn, and when real contributions instead of
imaginary bids were called for, the sum was easily raised and the girls
were free. He says of it: “I think that of all the meetings that I have
attended in my life, for a panic of sympathy I never saw one that
surpassed that. I have seen a great many in my day. An amount of money
was subscribed, and they were bought and set free. The mother was a very
old woman. She had been a nurse of a great Richmond lawyer whose name
has died out of my memory. He owed his conversion to her. He was famous
in the days of Webster.”
We have lying before us as we write a little leather-covered
account-book, soiled and worn by use, which has upon its first pages
letters from various humanitarians—William Lloyd Garrison being among
the number—recommending to the Christian public one Pomona Brice, who
“is engaged in collecting money to secure the ransom of her daughter and
two grandchildren who are scattered somewhere in North Carolina,
Mississippi, Alabama, and Missouri.” The names of subscribers follow,
with the sums subscribed—ranging from twenty-five cents to ten
dollars—among which stands the familiar autograph “H. W. Beecher, if the
whole is made up, five dollars.” Receipts from the different
savings-banks where she had deposited the money; a letter from her
lawyer to Mr. Beecher telling him that at her request he had examined
the laws of the above-mentioned States, and found them all against her;
a bill for his services and a judgment of the court against her for
$100, all either directed or entrusted to Mr. Beecher, give us an
inkling of another kind of work that wore upon his time, sympathy, and
purse.
Not only did he help by his subscriptions some poor mother or
grandmother to buy the liberty of her children or grandchildren, but
sometimes brought the slave upon Plymouth pulpit and raised the money
for its redemption on the spot. A handful of letters in our possession
gives the preliminaries to such a transaction.
One is from a Mr. Blake, who has called on the “nigger trader” and
obtained the refusal of the child for $900, and has also “obtained four
or five good names to a bond for the payment of the money or return of
the child. When I told the grandmother what I had done the poor old soul
cried for joy. ‘God bless you!’ she said. ‘I will sit up all night to
get you some breakfast. You have saved my child.’” Then comes a hitch in
the proceedings. A partner to the trader before spoken of appeared. He
hated “the d——— Abolitionists, and would not let the child go among
them.” “Do you not think something could be done without the child? She
has light flaxen hair. Her owner said I would easily get her on the
cars, for no one would know her from a white child. The grandmother has
purchased herself. She has also saved up about $200 to support her in
her old age. She is willing to give this. If we take it we shall want
$700 more. If you can do anything, in God’s name do it and save the
child.
“G. FAULKNER BLAKE.”
In some way, the letters do not tell us how, the difficulties were
overcome. The permission of the joint owners of this flaxen-haired girl
was obtained, bonds were given to the railroads as well as the owners to
secure them from loss in case this property should not be returned, and
the child was brought to the auction-block of Plymouth pulpit and was
bought for liberty.
The following is Mr. Beecher’s farther account of this matter:
“Before the passage of the Red Sea, before the escape of the Israelites
(in this country, not in Egypt), I was accustomed, from time to time, to
buy slaves here; and it was thrown up that this was one of the best
slave-auction places anywhere to be found—that better prices were
obtained for slaves that were put up for sale here than for any others.
Some thought there was an inconsistency in it. I did not. I was always
glad, at suitable times, as often as was proper, to bring before you
living men and women, and let them stand and look you in the face, that
you might see what sort of creatures slaves were made of. I was glad by
every means in my power to arouse men’s feelings against the abomination
of slavery, which I hated with an unutterable hatred, and which I hate
still in memory as much as then I hated it in substance and in fact.
[Illustration: Pinky’s Freedom-Ring.]
“Well, at one time there was a girl named ‘Pink,’ or ‘Pinky,’ brought
here. She came through the agency of G. Faulkner Blake, a brother of one
of our own members. He was studying in the Episcopal Seminary at
Alexandria, I believe. He learned from her old grandmother that ‘Pinky,’
who was too fair and beautiful a child for her own good, was to be taken
away from the grandmother and sent South.
“To make a long story short, those interested in the girl wrote me to
see if I could purchase her. I replied, ‘I cannot unless you send her
North’; and there was trouble in bringing her here. I wrote that I would
be responsible for her, and that she would be lawfully purchased or sent
back.
“I remember that the pen-keeper paid me a compliment which I shall never
forget, by saying that if Henry Ward Beecher had given his word he
considered it better than a bond. So she was brought here and placed
upon this platform; and the rain never fell faster than the tears fell
from many of you that were here. The scene was one of intense
enthusiasm. The child was bought, and overbought. The collection that
was taken on the spot was enough, and more than enough, to purchase her.
It so happened (it is not wrong to mention now) that a lady known to
literary fame as Miss Rose Terry was present; and as, like many others,
she had not with her as much money as she wanted to give, she took a
ring off from her hand and threw it into the contribution-box. That ring
I took and put on the child’s hand, and said to her, ‘Now remember that
this is your freedom-ring.’ Her expression, as she stood and looked at
it for a moment, was pleasing to behold; and Eastman Johnson, the
artist, was so much interested in the occurrence that he determined to
represent it on canvas, and he painted her looking at her freedom-ring;
and I have a transcript of the picture now at my house in the parlor,
and any of you can see it by asking.
“So the girl was redeemed. She went back South after her redemption; but
she was in the North for a time and received some rudiments of
education. At length I lost sight of her until 1864, I think, when she
was at Chief-Justice Chase’s, and I received word that she wished to see
me.
“It seems that ‘Pinky’ was not a good enough name for her when she was
free, though it was when she was a slave; so they mixed things and
called her ‘Ward,’ after my name, and ‘Rose,’ after the name of this
lady; and ever since her name has been Rose Ward—a very nice name
indeed. She then had grown to be a young woman, and was very fair. I
supposed she would probably live and die in labor to support herself and
her grandmother, who was becoming infirm; but it seems that she has
shown uncommon intelligence, and has manifested a very earnest desire to
become a laborer for her people, and she is to be educated and to become
a teacher and missionary among them.
“Now, it suits me exactly to have this child brought out of slavery,
redeemed on this platform, and grow up and develop a Christian
disposition, and go back and labor for her people. She does not know
anything about it, but if we can raise $150 she shall have a year’s
schooling in the Lincoln University at Washington. It seems to me as
though there was poetic justice and fitness in it. As you redeemed her
in the first instance from slavery, in the second instance you must
redeem her from ignorance by contributing the amount necessary to send
her a year to that university.“ And it was done.
An account of another is found in the weekly press:
”SLAVE MADE FREE IN PLYMOUTH CHURCH, JUNE 1, 1856.—
“There was never a more thrilling exemplification of Gospel principles
than last Sabbath morning, June 1, in Rev. H. W. Beecher’s church,
Brooklyn. Mr. Beecher preached from Luke x. 27.
“Just after announcing the last hymn he stepped to the platform and
said: ‘I am about to do a thing which I am not wont to do, which I have
never done before upon this day; and, in order that you may have no
scruples about it, I will preface it by reading what the Lord Jesus
Christ says of the Sabbath and its duties: “And it came to pass also on
another Sabbath that He entered into the synagogue and taught: and there
was a man whose right hand was withered.... And He said to the man which
had the withered hand, Rise up, and stand forth in the midst. And he
arose and stood forth. Then said Jesus unto them, I will ask you one
thing: Is it lawful on the Sabbath days to do good, or to do evil? to
save life, or to destroy it? And looking around about upon them all, He
said unto the man, Stretch forth thy hand. And he did so; and his hand
was restored whole as the other.”
“‘Some two weeks since I had a letter from Washington informing me that
a young woman had been sold by her own father to go South—for what
purpose you can imagine when you see her. She was purchased by a
slave-trader for $1,200; and he, knowing her previous character and the
circumstances of the case, was so moved with compassion that he offered
to give her an opportunity to purchase her freedom. He himself gave
towards it $100, and persuaded a friend and another slave-trader to give
each $100 more. So much of good is there in the lowest of men! He
allowed her to go to Washington to solicit aid from the Free-State men
there, and she succeeded in obtaining $400 more. I was then applied to,
to know if we would do anything to raise the remaining $500. I answered
we would do nothing unless the woman could come here. After much
hesitation on the part of her master she was allowed to visit New York,
giving her word of honor that she would return to Richmond if the money
were not raised’; and, going to the platform stairs, ‘Come up here,
Sarah, and let us all see you,’ said he.
“A young woman rose from an adjacent seat, and, ascending the steps,
sank down, embarrassed and apparently overcome by her feelings, in the
nearest chair. She was of medium size and neatly dressed. The white
blood of her father might be traced in her regular features and high,
thoughtful brow, while her complexion and wavy hair betrayed her slave
mother. ‘And this,’ said Mr. Beecher, ‘is a marketable commodity. Such
as she are put into one balance and silver into the other. She is now
legally free, but she is bound by a moral obligation which is stronger
than any law. I reverence woman. For the sake of the love I bore my
mother I hold her sacred, even in the lowest position, and will use
every means in my power for her uplifting. What will you do now? May she
read her liberty in your eyes? Shall she go out free? Christ stretched
forth His hand and the sick were restored to health; will you stretch
forth your hands and give her that without which life is of little
worth? Let the plates be passed and we will see!’ There was hardly a dry
eye in the church; and amidst tears and earnest lookings at the poor
woman, who sat with downcast eyes, the plates went around. Every purse
was in requisition, and as the bills were thrown down Mr. Beecher said:
‘I see the plates are heaping up. Remember every dollar you give is the
step of a weary pilgrim toward liberty, and that Christ has said:
“Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these ye have done
it unto Me!”’ At this Mr. Lewis Tappan rose and said, ‘There need be no
anxiety about the matter; some gentlemen had just now pledged themselves
to make up the deficiency, whatever it might be.’
“Then she was free! And when Mr. Beecher told her so and announced it
to the great congregation, there was an involuntary burst of applause.
It was in the church, upon the Sabbath day, but it was no
desecration—rather it was echoed by richer acclamation in heaven! As
it subsided Mr. Beecher said: ‘When the old Jews went up to their
solemn feasts they made the mountains round about Jerusalem ring with
their shouts. I do not approve of an unholy clapping in the house of
God, but when a good deed is well done it is not wrong to give an
outward expression of our joy....’
“He then read the closing hymn, saying, as he handed her the book, ‘We
shall sing this hymn as we never have sung a hymn before, and she will
sing it too.’ This was the hymn:
“‘Do not I love Thee, O my Lord?
Behold my heart and see;
And turn the dearest idol out
That dares to rival Thee.’
. . . . . .
“‘Hast Thou a lamb in all Thy flock
I would disdain to feed?
Hast Thou a foe before whose face
I fear Thy cause to plead?’
. . . . . .
“The blessing was pronounced and the meeting was over; but many lingered
to know the amount of the contribution, and when it was found that $783
had been raised, so that not only she but her child of two years old
could be redeemed, the applause burst forth anew.
“In the plates were several articles of jewelry, thrown in by those who
had no money with them or were unable to give anything else.
“Thus may Plymouth Church be consecrated. Verily ‘it is lawful to do
good on the Sabbath day.’”
A handful of photographs of children, white and beautiful, who had been
set free, have come to my hand with the above letters. Having to do with
white-faced, flaxen-haired children born under the curse of slavery;
with mothers carrying their little account-books from house to house,
gathering funds wherewith to accomplish the apparently hopeless task of
first finding their children who had been swept away from them in the
black maelstrom of slavery, and then of purchasing them; of grandmothers
who wept for joy at the prospect of saving their grandchildren, and
willingly surrendered all the money which they had laid aside for their
old age if it could be accomplished, would make a man tender toward the
victims and hard against the system which caused their trouble.
Through this course of training he walked in these years, his heart now
dissolved in tears and now hot with righteous indignation. No
compromise, no surrender, no betrayal, no yielding, but the destruction
of slavery and the salvation of the Union.
The Kansas and Nebraska troubles had resulted in more than establishing
certain theories or in deciding the status of portions of our territory.
It had intensified the feeling in both sections of our country, and men
were being irreconcilably divided upon the subject of slavery. Out of
these troublous times sprang John Brown, originally a farmer, born in
the northern part of Connecticut, and emigrating to Ohio when a child.
In 1854 his four elder sons migrated to Kansas, joining with the
thousands from the North to make that a free State and to secure homes
for themselves and their families. Plundered and harassed, they wrote to
their father to procure arms. To make sure that they should get these he
went with them. This was his introduction into Kansas. We have no design
of following out his history in detail, but only claim that his
fanatical zeal and his unreasonable expectations were the product of the
times in which he lived and the experiences which he suffered, acting
upon a temperament peculiarly unselfish, heroic, and religious. Enough
for us is it to know that his course led him, with an army of sixteen
men, to the capture of Harper’s Ferry and to a conflict with the whole
State of Virginia, in fact with the power of the whole United States
government, and ultimately to the scaffold. His courage, his calmness,
his undoubting faith in the future deliverance of the slaves, crowned by
his heroic death, made his name the war-cry of the future legions of the
loyal States, who sang as they marched:
“John Brown’s body lies a-mouldering in the grave,
John Brown’s body lies a-mouldering in the grave,
But his soul is marching on.”
The attack on Harper’s Ferry was made October 17. On Sunday evening,
October 30, Henry Ward Beecher preached upon “The Harper’s Ferry
Tragedy,” and gives his judgment of the principal actor in the following
language:
“An old man, kind at heart, industrious, peaceful, went forth with a
large family of children, to seek a new home in Kansas. That infant
colony held thousands of souls as noble as liberty ever inspired or
religion enriched. A great scowling slave State, its nearest neighbor,
sought to tread down this liberty-loving colony and to dragoon slavery
into it by force of arms. The armed citizens of another State crossed
the State lines, destroyed the freedom of the ballot-box, prevented a
fair expression of public sentiment, corruptly usurped law-making power
and ordained by fraud laws as infamous as the sun ever saw, assaulted
its infant settlements with armed hordes, ravaged the fields, destroyed
harvests and herds, and carried death to a multitude of cabins. The
United States government had no marines for this occasion! No Federal
troops were posted by cars night and day for the poor, the weak, the
grossly-wronged men in Kansas. There was an army there that unfurled the
banner of the Union, but it was on the side of the wrong-doers, not on
the side of the injured.
“It was in this field that Brown received his impulse. A tender father,
whose life was in his sons’ life, he saw his first-born seized like a
felon, chained, driven across the country, crazed by suffering and heat,
beaten by the officer in charge like a dog, and long lying at death’s
door! Another noble boy, without warning, without offence, unarmed, in
open day, in the midst of the city, was shot dead! No justice sought out
the murderers. No United States attorney was despatched in hot haste. No
marines or soldiers aided the wronged and weak!
“The shot that struck the child’s heart crazed the father’s brain.
Revolving his wrongs and nursing his hatred of that deadly system that
breeds such contempt of justice and humanity, at length his phantoms
assume a slender form and organize such an enterprise as one might
expect from a man whom grief had bereft of good judgment. He goes to the
heart of a slave State: one man—and sixteen followers! He seizes two
thousand brave Virginians and holds them in duress.
“When a great State attacked a handful of weak colonies the government
and nation were torpid; but when seventeen men attacked a sovereign
State, then Maryland arms, and Virginia arms, and the United States
government arms, and they three rush against seventeen men!
“Travellers tell us that the Geysers of Iceland—those singular boiling
springs of the North—may be transported with fury by plucking up a
handful of grass or turf and throwing them into the springs. The hot
springs of Virginia are of the same kind! A handful of men was thrown
into them, and what a boiling there has been!
“But meanwhile no one can fail to see that this poor, child-bereft old
man is the manliest of them all. Bold, unflinching, honest, without
deceit or dodge, refusing to take technical advantages of any sort, but
openly avowing his principles and motives, glorying in them in danger
and death as much as when in security—that wounded old father is the
most remarkable figure in this whole drama. The governor, the officers
of the State, and all the attorneys are pigmies compared to him.
“I deplore his misfortunes. I sympathize with his sorrows. I mourn the
hiding or obscuration of his reason. I disapprove of his mad and feeble
schemes. I shrink from the folly of the bloody foray, and I shrink,
likewise, from all the anticipations of that judicial bloodshed which,
doubtless, ere long will follow—for when was cowardice ever magnanimous?
They will kill the man, not for treason, but for proving them cowards!
“By and by, when men look back and see without prejudice that whole
scene, they will not be able to avoid saying: ‘What must be the measure
of manhood in a scene where a crazed old man stood head and shoulders
above those who had their whole reason? What is average citizenship when
a lunatic is a hero?’”
He also availed himself of this opportunity to show the wrong way and
the right way in our treatment of this whole question of slavery. I can
only mention the heads, but they so far outline his whole principle of
action during the war that I give them that his position may be
understood:
“1st. We have no right to treat the citizens of the South with acrimony
and bitterness because they are involved in a system of wrong-doing.”
“2d. The breeding of discontent among the bondmen of our land is not the
way to help them.”
“3d. No relief will be carried to the slaves or to the South as a body
by any individual or organized plans to carry them off or to incite them
to abscond.”
As to the right way:
“1st. If we would benefit the African at the South we must begin at
home. No one can fail to see the inconsistency between our treatment of
those amongst us who are in the lower walks of life and our professions
of sympathy for the Southern slaves. How are the free colored people
treated at the North? They are almost without education, with but little
sympathy for ignorance. They are refused the common rights of
citizenship which the whites enjoy. They cannot even ride in the cars of
our city railroads. They are snuffed at in the house of God, or
tolerated with ill-disguised disgust. Can the black man be a mason in
New York? Let him be employed as a journeyman, and every Irish lover of
liberty that carries the hod or trowel would leave at once or compel him
to leave! Can the black man be a carpenter? There is scarcely a
carpenter’s shop in New York in which a journeyman would continue to
work if a black man were employed in it. Can the black man compete in
the common industries of life? There is scarcely one in which he can
engage. He is crowded down, down, down, through the most menial
callings, to the bottom of society. We tax them, and then refuse to
allow their children to go to our public schools. We tax them, and then
refuse to sit by them in God’s house. We heap upon them moral obloquy
more atrocious than that which the master heaps upon the slave.”
“2d. We must quicken all the springs of feeling in the free States in
behalf of human liberty, and create a public sentiment based upon truth
and true manhood.”
“3d. By all the ways consistent with a fearless assertion of truth, we
must maintain sympathy and kindness toward the South. If, in view of the
wrongs of slavery, you say that you do not care for the master but only
the slave, I reply that you _should_ care for both master _and_ slave!
If _you_ do not care for the fate of the wrong-doing white man, _I_ do
care for the fate of the wrong-doing white man! But even though your
sympathy were only for the slave, then for his sake you ought to set
your face against, and discountenance anything like, an insurrectionary
spirit.”
“4th. We are to leave no pains untaken, through the Christian conscience
of the South, to give to the slave himself a higher moral status.”
“5th. The few virtues which shall lead inevitably to emancipation are to
be established and insisted upon—the right of chastity in the woman,
unblemished household love, and the right of parents to their children.
The moment these three stand secure, that moment slavery will have its
death-blow struck.”
“6th. And, lastly, among the means to be employed for promoting the
liberty of the slave we must not fail to include the power of true
Christian prayer. When slavery shall cease it will be by such
instruments and influences that shall exhibit God’s hand and heart in
the work. May He, in His own way and time, speed the day!”
With such radical yet conservative and kindly speech, bringing home to
his audience their own deficiencies and pointing out the way that must
be taken, did he temper and direct the hot passion of those fiery days.
The heat occasioned by the John Brown raid in the fall of 1859 was not
cooled by the after-events that occurred both in and out of Congress
during the following winter; and the country came to nominating its
candidates in 1860 in a state of the most intense feeling. Four parties
were in the field, each representing as its essential characteristic
some phase of feeling towards slavery. Among them stood the Republican
party, with a well-defined purpose, clearly understood and openly
declared—no interference with and no extension of slavery. Abraham
Lincoln was its nominee for President. Mr. Beecher had met him in 1859
when he came to New York to deliver his speech at Cooper Institute, and,
with his quick perception of the ability of men, and already well
acquainted with his record, had placed confidence in this tall, gaunt
Westerner from the first. He had doubted the policy of nominating Mr.
Seward, and one of his first interviews with a member of the New York
delegation, who had labored earnestly but vainly for his nomination, is
thus described: “With a laugh that was almost a roar he burst into the
editorial room where Mr. Raymond sat, his chair tilted upon its two fore
legs, and, grasping him cordially, heartily, vigorously, said: ‘Young
man, I know the people of this country at heart better than you do. Your
friend Seward has too much head and too little heart to succeed in any
such crisis as this.’
“‘And yours,’ replied Mr. Raymond, ‘I fear, has too much heart and too
little head for such a crisis as will assuredly be precipitated.’
“‘Trust, then,’ replied Mr. Beecher, ‘in God, and keep your powder
dry.’”
For the election of their nominee Mr. Beecher labored with pen and voice
to the utmost of his ability. His sermons Sunday evenings often had
reference to the great questions of the day. His lectures of this period
were little more than political addresses, and by his Star Papers in the
_Independent_, which were largely copied in other papers, he made his
views known to the reading public throughout the land. Believing that
the election of Abraham Lincoln was of the utmost importance, he gave
himself unreservedly to make it an accomplished fact, and made himself
as obnoxious to the timid and time-serving as he was admirable to the
opposite party. Of this period he says: “We next had to flounder through
the quicksands of four infamous years under President Buchanan, in which
senators sworn to the Constitution were plotting to destroy that
Constitution; in which the members of the Cabinet, who drew their pay
month by month, used their official position, by breach of public trust
and oath of allegiance, to steal arms, to prepare fortifications, and
make ready disruption and war. The most astounding spectacle the world
ever saw was then witnessed—a great people paying men to sit in the
places of power and offices of trust to betray them.”
Most portentous events followed the election. State after State in the
South called their conventions and passed decrees of secession, in every
case, except in South Carolina, by the jugglery of political leaders, in
spite of the popular vote. Representatives withdrew from the House,
senators from the Senate, and members from the Cabinet, and flocked to
Montgomery, Ga., where a rebel government was being organized. The most
specious arguments were urged in justification of secession, were
substantially admitted even by so excellent an authority as the New York
_Tribune_, and the right to coerce a sovereign State, as well as the
expediency of the attempt, was denied by a large portion of the Northern
press. Preparations to make secession successful, if resisted, were made
openly, while the denial of the right to prevent the same tied the hands
of the government and left it powerless in the toils of its enemies. In
the meantime different schemes of conciliation, all amounting to some
species of concession or compromise, were advanced both in and out of
Congress, and urged to the very utmost possible limit of forbearance and
kindness. Against “peace at any price” and all patched-up compromises
Mr. Beecher, together with a multitude of others of like feeling at the
North, threw his influence.
His Thanksgiving sermon this year was upon this topic: “Against a
Compromise of Principle.” He recounts the common but abundant blessings
of the year, and gathers assurance that they are from God on the
following testimony.
“All the sons of God rejoice and all good men rejoice. It needs but one
element to complete the satisfaction. If we could be sure that this is
God’s mercy, meant for good and tending thereto, we should have a full
cup to-day. That satisfaction is not denied us. The Mayor of New York,
in a public proclamation, in view of this prodigal year that has heaped
the poor man’s house with abundance, is pleased to say that there is no
occasion apparent to him for thanksgiving. We can ask no more. When bad
men grieve at the state of public affairs, good men should rejoice. When
infamous men keep fast, righteous men should have thanksgiving. God
reigns and the devil trembles. Amen. Let us rejoice!”
He then describes the true nature of the compromise that is asked, and
shows the impossibility of making any that shall be satisfactory to
either side:
“We are told that Satan appears under two forms—that when he has a good,
fair field he is out like a lion, roaring and seeking whom he may
devour; but that when he can do nothing more in that way he is a serpent
and sneaks in the grass. And so it is slavery open, bold, roaring,
aggressive, or it is slavery sneaking in the grass and calling itself
compromise. It is the same devil under either name. If by compromise is
only meant forbearance, kindness, well-wishing, conciliation, fidelity
to agreements, a concession in things, not principles, why then we
believe in compromise, only that is not compromise, interpreted by the
facts of our past history.
“We honestly wish no harm to the South or its people; we honestly wish
them all benefit. We will defend her coast; we will guard her inland
border from all vexations from without; and in good faith, in earnest
friendship, in fealty to the Constitution, and in fellowship with the
States, we will, and with growing earnestness to the end, fulfil every
just duty, every honorable agreement, and every generous act within the
limits of truth and honor; all that and no more—_no more_ though the
heavens fall; _no more_ if States unclasp their hands; _no more_ if they
raise up violence against us—NO MORE! _We have gone to the end._”
He did not agree with Mr. Lincoln in his hope that the South would be
satisfied by the careful explanations given in his inaugural, nor with
Mr. Seward in his expectation that the difficulty would be settled in
ninety days; but he did believe with all his heart that God was in the
work, and that the trouble would be settled some day, and that it would
be settled right. In the turmoil of that turbulent time his mind was
kept in perfect peace, because it was stayed on God.
The Republican party was charged with having brought about this unhappy
state of the country. This charge he answers in a sermon preached
January 4, 1861, the day appointed by President Buchanan for Fasting and
Prayer:
“What is the errand of this day? Why are we observing a sad Sabbath? a
day of humiliation? a day of supplication? It is for the strangest
reason the world ever heard. It is because the spirit of liberty has so
increased and strengthened among us that the government is in danger of
being overthrown! There never before was such an occasion for fasting,
humiliation, and prayer! Other nations have gone through revolutions for
their liberties; we are on the eve of a revolution to put down liberty!
Other people have thrown off their governments because too oppressive;
ours is to be destroyed, if at all, because it is too full of liberty,
too full of freedom. There never was such an event before in history....
Meanwhile we have had no one to stand up for order. Those who should
have spoken in decisive authority have been—_afraid_! Severer words have
been used; it is enough for me to say only that in a time when God, and
providence, and patriotism, and humanity demanded courage, they had no
response but fear. The heart has almost ceased to beat, and this
government is like to die for want of pulsations at the centre. While
the most humiliating fear paralyzes one part of the government, the most
wicked treachery is found in other parts of it.”
So closes in shame and fear the second era of the great conflict.
“Buchanan’s Fast” marks the lowest point of degradation the government
of the United States ever reached—a point of abject fear of the
consequences of its own sins, of feeble persistence in them, and of
cowardice in applying the remedy for its trouble.
Instead of abandoning its policy of falsehood and injustice, and making
a manly use of the means still at hand to avert the threatening dangers,
it held to its course, declared that it could do nothing more under the
Constitution than to advise and remonstrate with treason, and made a
frantic appeal to the Christians of the land to plead with Jehovah to
save it from the inevitable consequences of its folly and wickedness.
It was a failure. The Call of the President to his kind of Fast awakened
little response from the people. Another Proclamation was ringing in
their ears. It was that of the old prophet uttered centuries before. “Is
not this the Fast that I have chosen? to loose the bands of wickedness,
to undo the heavy burdens, and to let the oppressed go free, and that ye
break every yoke?”
This Fast of the Lord was rapidly approaching, and for it the people
were getting ready.