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THE CONTINENTAL MONTHLY: DEVOTED TO LITERATURE AND NATIONAL POLICY.
* * * * *
VOL. III.--JUNE, 1863.--No. VI.
* * * * *
THE VALUE OF THE UNION.
II.
Having taken a hasty survey, in our first number, of the value and
progress of the Union, let us now, turning our gaze to the opposite
quarter, consider the pro-slavery rebellion and its tendencies, and mark
the contrast.
* * * * *
We have seen, in glancing along the past, that while a benevolent
Providence has evidently been in the constant endeavor to lead mankind
onward and upward to a higher, more united, and happier life, even on
this earth--this divine effort has always encountered great opposition
from human selfishness and ignorance.
We have also observed, that nevertheless, through the ages-long
_external_ discipline of incessant political revolutions and changes,
and also by the _internal_ influences of such religious ideas as men
could, from time to time, receive, appreciate, and profit by, that
through all this they have at length been brought to that religious,
political, intellectual, social, and industrial condition which
constituted the civilization of Europe some two and a half centuries
since; and which was, taken all in all, far in advance of any previous
condition.
Under these circumstances, the period was ripe for the germs of a
religious and political liberty to start into being or to be quickened
into fresh life, with a far better prospect of final development than
they could have had at an earlier epoch. Born thus anew in Europe, they
were transplanted to the shores of the new world. The results of their
comparatively unrestricted growth are seen in the establishment and
marvellous expansion of the republic.
Great, however, as these results have been, the fact is so plain that he
who runs may read, that they would have been vastly greater but for a
malignant influence which has met the elements of progress, even on
these shores. Disengaged from the opposing influences which surrounded
them in Europe--from the spirit of absolutism, of hereditary
aristocracy, of ecclesiastical despotism, from the habits, the customs,
the institutions of earlier times, more or less rigid, unyielding on
that account, and hard to change by the new forces, disengaged from
these hampering influences, and planted on the shores of America--these
elements of progress, so retarded even up to the present moment in
Europe, found themselves most unexpectedly side by side with an
outbirth of human selfishness in its pure and most undisguised form.
This was not the spirit of absolutism, or of hereditary aristocracy, nor
of ecclesiastical and priestly domination. All of these, which have so
conspicuously figured in Europe, have perhaps done more at certain
periods for the advancement of civilization, by their restraining,
educating influence, than they have done harm at others, when less
needed. All of these institutions arose naturally out of the
circumstances, the character, and wants of men, at the time, and have
been of essential service in their day. But the great antagonist which
free principles encountered on American soil; which was planted
alongside of the tree of liberty; which grew with its growth, and
strengthened with its strength; which, like a noxious parasitic vine,
wound its insidious coils around the trunk that supported it--binding
its expanding branches, rooted in its tissues, and living on its vital
fluids;--this insidious enemy was slavery--a thoroughly undisguised
manifestation of human selfishness and greed; without a single redeeming
trait--simply an unmitigated evil: a two-edged weapon, cutting and
maiming both ways, up and down--the master perhaps even more than the
slave; a huge evil committed, reacting in evil, in the exact degree of
its hugeness and momentum. Yes! this great antagonist was slavery--an
institution long thrown out of European life; a relic of the lowest
barbarism and savagism, the very antipodes of freedom, and flourishing
best only in the rudest forms of society; but now rearing its hideous
visage in the midst of principles, forms, and institutions the most free
and advanced of any that the world has ever witnessed.
In the presence of this great fact, one is led to exclaim: 'How
strange!' How monstrous an anomaly! What singular fatality has brought
two such irreconcilable opposites together? It is as if two individuals,
deadly foes, should by a mysterious chance, encounter each other
unexpectedly on some wide, dreary waste of the Arctic solitudes. Whither
no other souls of the earth's teeming millions come, thither these two
alone, of all the world beside, are, as if helplessly impelled, to
settle their quarrel by the death of one or the other. Thus singular and
inexplicable does it at first sight seem--this juxtaposition of freedom
and slavery on the shores of the new world.
On second thoughts, however, we shall find this apparent singularity and
mystery to disappear. We are surprised only because we see a familiar
fact under a new aspect, and do not at once recognize it. What we see
before us in this great event is only an underlying fact of every
individual's _personal_ experience, expanded into the gigantic
proportions of a _nation's_ experience. In every child of Adam are the
seeds of good and of evil. Side by side they lie together in the same
soil; they are nourished and developed together; they become more and
more marked and individualized with advancing years, swaying the child
and the youth, hither and thither, according as one or the other
prevails; until at some period in the full rationality of riper age
comes the deadly contest between the power of darkness and the power of
light--one or the other conquers; the man's character is fixed; and he
travels along the path he has chosen, upward or downward.
So it is now with the great collective individual, the American
republic. So it is and has been with every other nation. The powers of
good and evil contend no less in communities and nations than in the
individuals who compose them; and, according as one or the other
influence prevails in rulers or in ruled, have human civilization and
human welfare been advanced or retarded.
In the American Union, the contrast has been more marked, more vivid,
and of greater extent than the world has ever seen, because of the
higher, freer, more humane character of our institutions, and the extent
of region which they cover. The brighter the sunshine, the darker the
shadow; the higher the good to be enjoyed, the darker, more deplorable
is the evil which is the inverse and opposite of that good. Hence, with
a knowledge of this prevalent fact of fallen human nature, and also of
the fact that nations are but individuals repeated--one might almost
have foreseen that if institutions, more free and enlightened than had
ever before blessed a people, were to arise upon any region of the
globe--something proportionately hideous and repulsive in the other
direction would be seen to start up alongside of them, and seek their
destruction.
Is this so strange then? It is only in agreement with the great truth,
that the best men endure the strongest temptations. He who was sinless
endured and overcame what no mere mortal could have borne for an
instant. So the highest truths have ever encountered the most violent
opposition. The most salutary reforms have had to struggle the hardest
to obtain a footing; in a word, the higher and holier the heaven from
whence blessings descend to earth, the deeper and more malignant is the
hell that rises in opposition. With the truly-sought aid of Him,
however, who alone has all power in heaven, earth, and hell, victory is
certain to be achieved in national no less than in individual trials.
But in both national and individual difficulties it is indispensable, in
order that courage may not waver, that hope may not falter--it is
indispensable that there should be, as already urged, a clear
intellectual comprehension of the full nature of the good thing for
which battle is waged. The brilliant vision of attainable good must be
preserved undimmed--ever present in sharp and radiant outline to the
mental eye; and so its lustre may also fall in a flood of searching
light on the evil which is battled against, clearly revealing all its
hideousness.
A clear understanding by the people at large, of what that is in which
the value of the Union consists, is only next in importance to the Union
itself; since the preservation of the Union hangs upon the nation's
appreciation of its value. Then only can we be intensely, ardently
zealous; full of courage and motive force; full of hope and
determination that it shall be preserved at whatever cost of life or
treasure. But without the deep conviction of the untold blessings that
lie yet undeveloped in the Union and its Constitution, without the
hearty belief that this Union is a gift of God, to be ours only while we
continue fit to hold it, and to be fought for as for life itself (for a
large, free individual life for each one of us is involved in the great
life of the Union), without this deep, rock-rooted conviction in the
heart of the nation, we shall tend to lukewarmness--to an awful
indifference as to how this contest shall end; and begin to seek for
present peace at any price. We say _present_ peace, for a permanent
peace, short of a thorough crushing of the rebellion, is simply a sheer
impossibility--a wild hallucination. Nor is it a less mad fantasy to
suppose that the rebellion can be effectually crushed without
annihilating slavery, the sole and supreme cause of the rebellion. Such
lukewarmness and untimely peace sentiments, widely diffused through the
loyal States, would be truly alarming. Those who feel and talk thus, are
like blind men on the verge of a fathomless abyss; and should a majority
ever be animated by such ideas, we are gone--hopelessly fallen under the
dark power, never perhaps to rise again in our day or generation. But we
have no fears of such a dismal result; the nation is in the divine
hands, and we feel confident that all will be right in the end.
* * * * *
We have presented two reasons why the Union is priceless. Still further
may this be seen by a glance at the opposite features and tendencies of
the rebellion; and by the consideration of three or four points of
radical divergence and antagonism between slavery and republicanism.
We set out with the following general statements:
The less selfish a man becomes--the more that he rises out of
himself--in that degree (other conditions being equal) does he seek the
society of others from disinterested motives, and the wider becomes the
circle of his sympathies.
On the other hand, the more selfish he is--the lower the range of
faculties which motive him--in that degree, the more exclusive is
he--the more does he tend to isolate himself from others, or to
associate only with those whose character or pursuits minister to his
own gratification. Beasts of prey are solitary in their habits--the
gentle and useful domestic animals are gregarious and social.
Now the same is true of communities. The more elevated their
character--the more that the moral and intellectual faculties
predominate in a community; or the more virtuous, intelligent, and
industrious--in short, the more civilized it is--the closer are the
individuals of that community drawn together among themselves, and the
greater also is its tendency to unite with other communities into a
larger society, while it preserves, at the same time, all necessary
freedom and individuality. The more civilized and humanized a nation is,
the greater are the tendency and ease with which it organizes a
_diversified_, as distinguished from a homogeneous unity; or, the
greater the ease with which it establishes and maintains the integrity
and freedom of the component parts, of the individuals and communities
of individuals, as indispensable to the freedom and welfare of the whole
national body.
Thus advancing civilization will multiply the relations of men with each
other, of communities with communities, of states with states, of
nations with nations; and will also organize these relations with a
perfection proportioned to their multiplicity; and thus draw men ever
closer in the fraternal bonds of a common humanity.
On the other hand, the more a community becomes immoral, ignorant, and
indolent--the lower its aims and motive, the less it cultivates the
mental powers, the fewer industries it prosecutes, and the less
diversified are its productions--in proportion as it declines in all
these modes, in that degree does it tend to disintegration, to
separation and isolation of all its parts, and toward the establishment
of many petty and independent communities; in other words, it tends to
lapse into barbarism.
Such a movement is, however, against the order of Providence, and thus
is an evil that corrects itself. Men are happier (other conditions being
equal) in large communities than in small; and when selfishness and
ambition have broken up a large state into many small and independent
ones, the same principle of selfishness, still operating, keeps them in
perpetual mutual jealousy and collision, until, whether they will or
not, they are forced into a mass again by some strong military despot,
or conquered by a superior foreign power, and quiet is for a time again
restored.
* * * * *
From these considerations we conclude that civilization, as it advances,
is but the index of the capacity of human beings to form themselves into
larger and larger nationalities (perhaps ultimately to result in a
federal union of all nations), each consisting of numerous parts,
performing distinct functions; yet so organized harmoniously that each
part shall preserve all the freedom that it requires for its utmost
development and happiness, and yet depend for its own life upon the life
of the entire national body.
It may also be concluded that this capacity of men so to organize is
just in proportion to the development of the higher elements and
faculties of the mind, the religious, moral, social, and intellectual,
and the diminished influence of the lower, animal, and selfish nature.
Consequently, when in such a large and harmoniously organized
nationality as the American Union, there arises a movement which,
without the slightest rational or high moral cause, aims to break away
from this advanced, this free and humanizing political organization; and
not only to break away from the main body, but also maintains the right
of the seceding portion itself to break up into independent
sovereignties; then, the conclusion is forced upon every impartial mind
that the spirit which animates such a disruptive movement is a spirit
opposed to civilization, since it runs in precisely the opposite
direction; as, instead of tending to unity, to accord, to a large
organization with individual freedom, it tends to disunity, separation,
the splitting up of society into many independent sovereign states, or
fractions of states, certain, absolutely certain to clash and war with
each other, especially with slavery as their woof and warp; and thus
bring back the reign of barbarism, and the ultimate subjection of these
warring little sovereignties to one or more iron despotisms.
The inevitable tendency of the rebellion, if successful, and its
doctrine of secession _ad libitum_, is (even without slavery--how much
more with it!) to hurl society to the bottom of the steep and rugged
declivity up which, through the long ages, divine Providence, the guide
of man, has been in the ceaseless and finally successful endeavor to
raise it. The American republic is the highest level, the loftiest table
land yet reached by man in his political ascent; and the forces that
would drag him from thence are forces from beneath, the animal, selfish,
devilish element of depraved human nature, which so long have held the
race in bondage; and which, now that they see their victim slipping from
their grasp, and rising beyond reach into the high region of unity,
peace, and progress, are moving all the powers of darkness for one final
and successful assault. Will it be successful? We cannot believe it.
* * * * *
What is the cause of this wicked, heaven-defying, insane movement on the
part of the South? The answer is written in flames of light along the
sky, and in letters of blood upon the breadth of the land. Slavery
first, slavery middle, and slavery last. Accursed slavery! firstborn of
the evil one--the lust of dominion over others for one's own selfish
purposes, in its naked, most shameless, and undisguised form. Dominion
of man over man in other modes, such as absolute monarchy, aristocracy,
feudalism, ecclesiastical rule--all these justify their exactions under
the plea of the welfare of the subject, or the salvation of souls.
Slavery has nothing of the kind behind which to hide its monstrosity;
nor does it care to do so, except when hard pushed, and then it feebly
pleads the christianization of the negro! A plea at which the common
sense of mankind and of Christendom simply laughs.
Now slavery, we know, is just the reverse of freedom, and hence it is
only natural to expect that the fruits, the results of slavery, wherever
its influence extends, would closely partake of the nature of their
parent and cause. Slavery, then, as the antipodes of freedom, must
engender in the community that harbors and fosters it, habits,
sentiments, and modes of life continually diverging from, and ever more
and more antagonistic to, whatever proceeds from free institutions.
Let us look at some of these. There are four points of antagonism
between free and slave institutions that seem to stand out more
prominently than others; at any rate, we shall not now extend our
inquiry beyond them.
Slavery, then, begets in the ruling class:
1. An excessive spirit of domineering and command;
2. A contempt of labor;
3. A want of diversified industry;
4. These three results produce a fourth, viz., a division of slave
society into a wealthy, all-powerful slaveholding aristocracy on
the one hand; and an ignorant, impoverished, and more or less
degraded non-slaveholding class on the other.
It is at once seen how slavery develops to the utmost, in the master and
dominant race, a habit of command, of self-will, of determination to
have one's own way at all hazards, of intolerance of any contradiction
or opposition; of quickness to take offence, and to avenge and right
one's self. The possession and exercise of almost irresponsible power
over others tend to destroy in the master all power of self-control;
foster intolerance of any legal restraint, of any law but one's own
will, that must either rule or ruin. It is a spirit that is cultivated
assiduously from childhood to youth, and from youth to full age, by
constant and ubiquitous subjection of the negro, young and old, to the
petty tyranny, the whims and caprices of little master and miss, and by
the exercise of authority at all times and in all places by the white
over the black race. It is a spirit that is essential to the slave
driver; and when the habit of dictation and command to inferiors has
grown into every fibre of his nature, he cannot dismiss it when he deals
with his equals, whenever his wishes are opposed. Hence the violence,
the lawlessness, the carrying and free use of deadly weapons, the duels
and murders that are so rife in the South, and the haughty manners of so
many Southern Congressmen. The rebellion is simply the culmination and
breaking forth of this arrogant, domineering, slavery-fostered spirit on
a vast scale. Failing to hold the reins of the National Government, it
must needs destroy it.
Such a temper and disposition is evidently incompatible with human
equality and equal rights; and in it we have one of the roots of
Southern ill-concealed antagonism to free republican government.
2d. The second Southern, or slavery-engendered element that is
antagonistic to free institutions, is contempt of labor.
Could anything else be expected? Because slaves work, and are compelled
to it by the overseer's lash, _all_ labor necessarily partakes of the
disgrace which is thus attached to it. It is surprising how perverted
the Southern mind is upon this point. Because slavery degrades labor,
they maintain that the converse must also be true, viz., that all who
labor must unavoidably possess the spirit of slaves; and hence they
supposed that the North would not make a vigorous opposition, because
all Northerners are addicted to labor.
The truth however is this: Where labor is despised no community can
flourish as it is capable of doing; much less one with free
institutions. We might just as well talk of a body without flesh and
bones; of a house without walls or timbers; of a country without land
and water, as of free institutions without skilled and honorable labor.
It is the very ground on which they stand.
This then is another source of antagonism between slave and free
institutions.
3d. A third point, not only of difference, but also of antagonism
between slave society and free, consists in the permanent contraction or
limitation of the field of labor in the former, and its perpetual
expansion and multiplication of the branches of industry in the latter.
Not only does the slave perform as little work as he can with safety,
but besides this, the sphere in which slave labor can be profitably
employed is a limited one. Agriculture on an extensive scale, on large
plantations, is the only one that the slaveholder finds to repay him.
All articles, or the vast majority of them, used by the South, that
require for their production a great number of different and subdivided
branches of labor, come from the North.
We have said that labor, skilled, honored, educated labor, is the
material foundation, the solid ground upon which free institutions rest.
We now further add this undeniable and important truth, viz., that as
branches of labor are multiplied; as each branch itself is subdivided
and diversified; as new branches and new details are established by the
aid of the ever-increasing light of scientific discovery, and the
exhaustless fertility of human inventive genius; as all these numerous
industries are more or less connected and interlocked; as this great
network of ever-multiplying and diversified human labors expands its
circumference, while also filling up its interior meshes, in the degree
that all this takes place, the broader and firmer becomes this
industrial foundation for free institutions.
It is on this broad platform of diversified and interlocked labors that
man meets his brother man and equal. The variety and diversity of labors
adapts itself to a like and analogous diversity of human characters,
tastes, and industrial aptitudes and capacities. And the mutual
dependence and interlocking of these multiplied branches of industry
bring the laborers themselves into more numerous, more close, and
independent relations. Men are first drawn together by their mutual
wants and their social impulses; but when thus brought together, they
tend to remain united, not merely by affinity of character, but also,
and often mainly by their having something to _do_ in common--by their
common labors and pursuits. Advancing civilization, since it ever brings
out and develops more and more of man's nature, must, as a natural
result, ever also multiply his wants. These multiplying wants can be
satisfied for each individual only by the diversified activities of
multitudes of his fellows; the results of whose united labors, brought
to his door, are seen in the countless articles that go to make up a
well-built and well-furnished modern dwelling. Labor is thus the great
_social cement_; and can any one fail to see that it is upon the basis
of such a diversified and interwoven industry that a corresponding
multiplicity, intermingling, and union of human relations are
established; and also that it is only under free institutions in the
enjoyment of equal rights, where all are equal before the law, and where
political authority and order emanate from the people themselves, that
labor itself can be free; and not only free, but ennobled, and at full
liberty to expand itself broadly and widely in all departments, without
any conceivable limits? While at the same time, by the interlacing of
its countless details, it cements the laborers, the respective
communities, the entire nation into a noble brotherhood of useful
workers.
We have yet to learn the elevating, refining power of labor, when
organized as it can, and assuredly will be. At present we have no
adequate conception of this influence. It is solely for the sake of
labor, for the sake of human activity, that it may fill as many and as
wide and deep channels as possible, and thus permit man's varied life
and capacities to flow freely forth, and expand to the utmost; it is
solely for this end that all government is instituted; and under a free,
popular government, under the guidance of religion and science, labor is
destined to reach a degree of development and a perfection of
organization, and to exert a reactive influence in ennobling human
character that shall surpass the farthest stretch of our present
imaginings. Our rare political organization is but the coarse, bold
outlines--the rugged trunk and branches of the great tree of liberty.
Out of this will grow the delicate and luxuriant foliage of a varied,
beautiful, scientific, and dignified industry and social life.
This is the glorious, towering, expanding structure, which the insane
rebellion, the dark slave power, is raging to destroy! to tear it,
branch by branch, to pieces, and scatter the ruins to the four winds, in
order to set up, what? in its place. A foul, decaying object--a slave
oligarchy, which, do what it will, is, at each decennial census, seen to
fall steadily farther and farther into the rear even of the most laggard
of the Free States, in all that goes to make up our American
civilization.[1] And all this because it sees that the life of the
republic is the death of slavery, and free labor the eternal enemy of
slave.
This difference in the conditions of labor, then, forms the third point
of antagonism between free and slave institutions.
It is an antagonism that is ever on the increase--ever intensifying, and
utterly irremediable in any conceivable way or mode. Much as the nation
longs for peace, this is utterly hopeless, let it do what it
will--compromise, try arbitration, mediation--nothing can bring lasting
peace but the death of slavery. Freedom may be crushed for a season, but
as it is the breath of God himself, it will live and struggle on from
year to year, and from age to age, and give the world no rest until it
has vanquished all opposition, and asserted its divine right to be
supreme.
If slave society, therefore, thus necessarily diverges ever farther and
farther from the conditions which characterize, and those which result
from the operations of free institutions, such society must of course be
fast on its way to a monarchical, or even an absolute and despotic
government. The whites of the South even now may be considered as
separated into two distinct classes--the governing and the governed. The
slaveholders are virtually the governing class, through their superior
wealth, education, and influence; and the non-slaveholders are as
virtually the subject class, since slavery, being the great, paramount,
leading interest, overtopping and overshadowing all things else, tinging
every other social element with its own sombre hue, is fatal to any
movement adverse to it on the part of the non-slaveholder. Everything
must drift in the whirl of its powerful eddy, a terrible maelstrom, into
which the North was fast floating, when the thunder of the Fort Sumter
bombardment awoke it just in time to see its awful peril and strike out,
with God's help, into the free waters once more.
* * * * *
From these considerations, can we be surprised at the rumors that now
and then come from the South, of incipient movements toward a
monarchical government? Not at all. Should the rebellion succeed--a
supposition which is, of course, not to be harbored for a moment--but in
such an improbable contingency there can be hardly a reasonable doubt
that a monarchy would be the result. Not probably at first. The
individual States would like to amuse themselves awhile with the game of
secession, and the joys of independent sovereignty, State rights, etc.,
as Georgia has already begun to do, in nullifying the conscription law
on their bogus congress. But eventually their mutual jealousies, their
'quick sense of honor,' their contentious and intestine wars (and
nothing else can reasonably be looked for) will bring them under an
absolute monarchy, more or less arbitrary, or under the yoke of some
foreign power.
* * * * *
The antagonism between free and slave institutions, which we have
inferred, from a glance at the peculiar workings of each, finds its
complete confirmation in certain statements made by Mr. Calhoun, some
twenty years ago, which were to this effect, viz.:
'Democracy in the North is engendering social anarchy; it is
tending to the loosening of the bonds of society. Society is not
governed by the will of a mob, but by education and talent.
Therefore the South, resting on slavery as a stable foundation, is
a principle of authority: it must restrain the North; must resist
the anarchical influence of the North; must counterbalance the
dissolving influence of the North. He upheld slavery because it was
a bulwark to counterbalance the dissolving democracy of the North;
that the dissolving doctrines of democracy took their rise in
England, passed into France, and caused the French Revolution; that
they have been carried out in the democracy of the North, and will
there ultimate in revolution, anarchy, and dissolution.' (Taken
from Horace Greeley, in _Independent_ of December 25th, 1862.)
These are Mr. Calhoun's own words, and he will probably be allowed to be
a fair exponent of Southern sentiment: we may gather from these
utterances how the free republicanism of the North is regarded by the
slave oligarchy.
We cannot forbear adding another statement of Mr. Calhoun, made to
Commodore Stuart, as far back as 1812, in a private conversation at
Washington, which was in substance as follows, viz.: That the South, on
account of slavery, found it necessary to ally herself with one of the
political parties; but that if ever events should so turn out as to
break this alliance, or cause that the South could not control the
Government, that then it would break it up.
Comment upon this is unnecessary. Let no loyal man forget these
expressions; they reveal the egg from whence, after fifty years'
incubation, this rebellion has been hatched.
But our theme, 'The Value of the Union,' continually expands before us;
nevertheless we must bring our article to a close. We do so with the
following remarks:
An individual is truly free, not in the degree only in which he governs
himself, but in the degree that he governs himself according to the
central truth and right of things, or according to the loftiness of the
standard by which he regulates his conduct.
It is by the possession of truth, and by obedience to what that truth
teaches, that a man rises out of evil and error, and out of bondage
thereto.
The possession of truth constitutes intelligence.
But intelligence is worse than useless without obedience to its highest
requirements, which is virtue.
Virtue, or morality, in its turn (or decent exterior conduct), is
nothing without that which constitutes the soul's topmost and central
faculty, viz., the religious sentiment, or that which links the soul to
God, the centre of all things. As the parts of any organism, as we have
seen, fall into confusion and discord when the central bond is wanting;
so do the powers of the soul, when it closes itself by evil doing
against the entrance of the beams of life and light that unceasingly
flow upon it from God, the spiritual sun and centre of the universe.
Now, as individuals make up the nation, this will be free, and the Union
valued and preserved, in the degree that each individual is intelligent,
virtuous, and religious.
Upon those, then, who educate the individual, those to whom the infant,
the child, the youth, is entrusted, to mould and imbue at the most
pliant and receptive period of life--on those, whose office it is to
form the young mind into the love and practice of all things good and
true, and an abhorrence of their opposites; upon these, the parents, the
teachers, and the pastors of the land; upon these, when this hurricane
of civil war shall have passed away, do the preservation of this Union
and the hopes of mankind more than ever depend. Upon home education and
influence; on the schools and on the churches on these three forces
centred upon, interwoven, and vitalized by true Christian doctrine, as
revealed in the Sacred Scriptures or inspired Word of God, rest the
destinies of the American republic. May those who wield them live and
act with an ever more vivid and growing consciousness of their great
responsibility.
A MERCHANT'S STORY.
'All of which I saw, and part of which I was.'
CHAPTER XXV.
Joe led Slema away, and, springing from the block, I pressed through the
crowd to where Larkin was standing.
'Larkin,' I said, placing my hand on his arm, 'come with me.'
'Who in h---- ar ye?' he asked, turning on me rather roughly.
'My name is Kirke. You ought to know me.'
'Kirke! Why ye ar! I'm right down glad ter see ye, Mr. Kirke,' he
exclaimed, seizing me warmly by the hand.
'Come with me; I want to talk with you.'
He sprang from the bench, and followed me into the mansion.
Entering the library, I locked the door. When he was seated, I said:
'Now, Larkin, who do you want this girl for?'
'Wall, I swar! Mr. Kirke, ye fire right at th' bull's eye!' Then,
hesitating a moment, he added:
'Fur myself.'
'No, you don't; you know that isn't true.'
'Ha!--ha! This ar th' second time ye've told me I lied. Nary other man
ever done it twice, Mr. Kirke; but I karn't take no 'fence with ye,
nohow--ha! ha!'
'Come, Larkin, don't waste time. Tell me squarely--_who_ do you want
this girl for?'
'Wall, Mr. Kirke, I can't answer thet--not in honor.'
'Shall _I_ tell _you_?'
'Yas, ef ye kin!'
'John Hallet.'
'Wall, I'm d----d ef ye doan't take th' papers. Who in creashun told ye
thet?'
'No one; I _know_ it, Hallet's only son is engaged to this girl. He
wants her, to balk him.'
'Ye're wrong thar. He wants har fur _himself_.'
'For himself!'
'Yas; he's got a couple now. He's a sly old fox; but he's one on 'em.'
'Is he willing to pay eighty-two hundred dollars for a mistress?'
'Wall, Preston owes him a debt, an' he reckons 'tain't wuth a hill o'
beans. Thet's th' amount uv it.'
Thus the wrong of the father was to be atoned for by the dishonor of the
child! Preston was right: the curse which followed his sin had fallen on
all he loved--on his wife, his mistress, the octoroon girl, his manly,
noble son; and now, the cloud which held the thunderbolt was hovering
over the head of his best-loved child! And so He visiteth 'the sins of
the fathers upon the children!'
'But he is wrong! Preston's estate will pay its debts. If it does not,
Joe will make good the deficiency, I will guarantee Hallet's claim. See
him, and tell him so.'
'He hain't yere, an' woan't be yere. He allers fights shy. An'
'twouldn't be uv no use. He's made up his mind to hev th' gal, an' hev
har he will. He's come all th' way from Orleans ter make sure uv it.'
'But, Larkin, you've a heart under your waistcoat; _you_ won't lend
yourself to the designs of such a consummate scoundrel as Hallet!'
'Scoundrel's a hard word, Mr. Kirke. 'Tain't used much round yere; when
it ar, it draws blood like a lancet.'
'I mean no offence to you, Larkin; but it's true--I will prove it;' and
I went on to detail my early acquaintance with Hallet; his vast
profession and small performance of piety; his betrayal of Frank's
mother; his treatment of his son, and all the damning record I have
spread before the reader.
As I talked, Larkin rose, and walked the room, evidently affected; but,
when I concluded, he said:
''Tain't no use, Mr. Kirke; I'd ruther ye wouldn't say no more. It makes
me feel like the cholera. An' 'tain't no use! I've _got_ ter buy th'
gal.'
'You have _not_ got to buy her! You need only go away. I will give you a
thousand dollars, if you will go at once.'
'No, no, Mr. Kirke; I karn't do it. I'd like ter 'blige ye, and I need
money like th' devil; but I karn't leave Hallet in th' lurch. 'Twouldn't
be far dealin' 'tween man an' man. He trusts me ter do it, an' I'm in
with him. I _must_ act honest.'
'How _in_ with him?'
'Why, he an' ole Roye ar tergether. The' find th' money fur my
bis'ness--done it fur fifteen yar. The' git th' biggest sheer, but I
karn't help myself, I went inter cotton, like a d--d fool, 'bout a yar
ago, an' lost all I hed--every red cent; an' now I shud be on my beam
ends ef it warn't fur them.'
'Then Hallet has made his money dealing in negroes!'
'Yas, a right smart pile, in thet, an' cotton. He got me inter th' d--d
staple. I hed nigh on ter sixty thousan' then--hard rocks; but I lost it
all--every dollar--at one slap; though I reckon _he_ managed, somehow,
ter get out.'
'Yes, of course, _he_ got out, and saddled the loss upon you. Were you
such a fool as not to see that?'
'P'raps he did; but he covered his trail. He's smart; ye karn't track
_him_. But it makes no odds; I _hev_ ter keep in with him. I couldn't do
a thing, ef I didn't.'
'Yes, you could. Come North. I'll give you honest work to do.'
'You're a gentleman, Mr. Kirke, an' I'm 'bliged ter ye; but I karn't
leave yere. I've got a wife an' chil'ren, an' the' wouldn't live 'mong
ye abolitionists, nohow.'
'You have a wife and children?'
'Yas'; a wife, an' two as likely young 'uns as ye ever seed--boy 'bout
seven, an' gal 'bout twelve.'
'Well, Larkin, suppose _your_ little girl was upon that auction block;
suppose some villain had hired _me_ to aid in debauching her; suppose
you, her father, should come to me and plead with me not to do it;
suppose I should tell you what you have told me, and then--should go out
and buy _your_ child; what would you do? Would you not curse me with
your very last breath?'
He seated himself, and hung down his head, but made no reply.
'Answer me, like the honest man you are.'
'Wall, I reckon I shud.'
'Selma is to marry my adopted son. She is as dear to me as your child is
to you. Can you do to her, what you would curse me for doing to _your_
child? Look me in the face. Don't flinch--answer me!'
I rose, and stood before him. In a few moments he also rose, and,
looking me squarely in the eye--there was a tear in his--he brought his
hand down upon mine with a concussion that might have been heard a mile
off, and said:
'No, I'm d--d ter h--ef I kin.'
'You are a splendid, noble fellow, Larkin.'
'Ye're 'bout th' fust man thet ever said so, Mr. Kirke. Ye told me
suthin' like thet nigh on ter twelve yar ago. I hain't forgot it yit,
an' I never shill.'
'You're rough on the outside, Larkin, but sound at the core--sound as a
nut. I wish the world had more like you. Leave this wretched work!'
'I'd like ter, but I karn't. What kin a feller do, with neither money
nor friends?'
'Get into some honest business. I know you can. I'll help you--Joe will
help you. We'll talk things over to-night, and I know Joe will rig out
something for you.'
He remained seated for a while, saying nothing; then he rose, and, the
moisture dimming his eyes, said:
'I reckon ye're not over pious, Mr. Kirke, an' I _know_ ye'd stand a
hand at a rough an' tumble; but d--d ef thet ain't th' sort o' religion
I like. Come, sir; ef I stay yere, ye'll make a 'ooman on me.'
As we passed into the parlor, I said to Joe, who was seated there with
Selma:
'Give Larkin your hand, Joe; he's a glorious fellow.'
'My _heart_ is in it, Larkin,' said the young man, very cordially. 'It
would have come hard to draw a bead on _you_.'
'I knows it would, Joe, an' I wus ter blame; but I never could stand a
bluff.'
We passed out together to the auction stand. Selma and her brother
ascended the block, while Larkin and I mingled with the buyers, who had
collected in even larger numbers than before. The auctioneer brought
down his hammer:
'Attention, gentlemen! The sale has begun. I offer you again the girl,
Lucy Selma. You've h'ard the description, and (glancing at Joe, and
smiling) you know the _conditions_ of the sale. A thousand dollars is
bid for the girl, Lucy Selma; do I hear any more? Talk quick, gentlemen;
I shan't dwell on this lot; so speak up, if you've anything to say. One
thousand once--one thousand twice--one thousand third and last call. Do
I hear any more?' A pause of a moment. 'Last call, gentlemen.
Going--g-o-i-n-g--go--'
The word was unfinished; the hammer was descending, when a voice called
out:
'Two thousand!'
'Whose bid is that?' cried Joe, striding across the bench, the glare of
a hyena in his eyes.
'Mine, sir!' said the man, with a look of sudden surprise. His face was
shaded by a broad-brimmed Panama hat, and his hair and whiskers were
dyed, but there was no mistaking his large, eagle nose, his sharp,
pointed chin, and his rat-trap of a mouth. It was Hallet! Springing upon
a bench near by, I cried out:
'John Hallet, withdraw that bid, or your time has come! I warn you. You
cannot leave this place alive!'
He gave me a quick, startled look--the look of a thief caught in the
act--but said nothing.
'Who is he?' cried a dozen voices.
'A Yankee nigger-trader! A man that seduced and murdered the woman who
should have been his wife; that cast out and starved his own child, and
now would debauch this poor girl, who is to marry his only son!'
'Wall, he _ar_ a han'some critter.' ''Bout like th' Yankees gin'rally.'
'Clar him out!' cried several voices.
'If you allow him to bid here, you are as bad as he,' I continued,
unintentionally fanning the growing excitement.
'Wall, we woan't.' 'Pitch inter him!' 'Douse him in th' pond!' 'Ride him
on a rail!' 'Give him a coat uv tar!' and a hundred similar exclamations
rose from the crowd, which swayed toward the obnoxious man with a quick,
tumultuous motion.
'He'm in de darky trade; leff de darkies handle him!' cried Ally,
seizing Hallet by the collar, and dragging him toward the pond.
The face of the great merchant turned ghastly pale. Paralyzed with fear,
he made no resistance.
Pressing rapidly through the crowd, and tossing Ally aside as if he had
been a bundle of feathers, Larkin was at Hallet's side in an instant.
Planting himself before him, and drawing his revolver, he cried out:
'Far play, gentlemen, far play. He's a cowardly scoundrel, but he shill
hev far play, or my name ain't Jake Larkin!'
Instinctively the crowd fell back a few paces, and Larkin, with more
coolness, continued:
'Th' only man yere thet's got anything ter say in this bis'ness ar Joe
Preston; an' _he'll_ guv even a Yankee far play. Woan't ye, Joe?' he
cried. Then, turning quickly to his partner, he added: 'Ye didn't know
th' kunditions, Mr. Hallet, did ye? Speak quick.'
'No--I--didn't know I was--giving offence,' stammered Hallet, looking in
the direction in which Larkin's eyes were turned.
Selma had taken the auctioneer's chair, and Joe stood, with folded arms,
glaring on Hallet.
'Come, Joe,' continued Larkin, 'I've done ye a good turn ter-day. Let
him off, an' put it ter my 'count.'
'As you say, Larkin; but he must withdraw his bid, and leave the ground
at once.'
'I withdraw it, sir,' said Hallet, in a cringing tone, clinging fast to
the negro trader.
'Doan't hold on so tight, Mr. Hallet. Lord bless ye! nary one yere'll
hurt ye; they'm gentler'n lambs--ha! ha! But when ye want anuther gal,
doan't ye come _yere_ fur yer darter-in-law--ha! ha!'
Putting his arm within Hallet's, he then attempted to press through the
crowd; but the blood of the chivalry had risen, and, spite of Joe's
remarks, they showed no inclination to let the Yankee off so cheaply.
Forming a solid wall around him, they blocked Larkin's way at every
turn, and cries of 'Let him alone, Larkin!' 'Cool him off, boys!'
'Doan't ye spile th' fun, Larkin!' 'Guv th' feller a little
hosspitality!' echoed from all directions.
Putting up his revolver, Larkin turned to them, and said, in the mildest
and blandest tone conceivable:
'Thet's right, boys--ye _orter_ hev some fun; but this gintleman's sick.
Doan't ye see how pale he ar? He couldn't stand it, nohow. But thar's a
feller thet kin,' pointing to Mulock, who stood looking on, at the outer
edge of the crowd. 'Ef ye're spilin' fur sport, ye moight try yer hand
on him!'
'Yas, he'm de man!' cried Ally. 'He holped whip de young missus. He
telled on har fur twenty dollar. He'm de man!'
Mulock did not seem to realize, at once, that he was the subject of
these remarks. The moment he did, he sprang out of the crowd, and darted
off for the woods at the top of his speed. A hundred men followed him,
with cries of 'Mount, head him off!' 'Five dollars ter th' man thet
kotches him!' 'Take him, dead or alive!'
Amid the universal excitement and confusion that followed, Larkin walked
rapidly away with Hallet.
'You can heat the kettle, boys; Mulock can't run,' cried Joe, from the
platform. 'But you must give him a fair trial.
'We'll do thet, never ye fear!' echoed a dozen voices.
'I nominate his friend, Mr. Gaston, for judge,' said Joe.
'Gaston it is!' Gaston it is!' 'Mount the bench, Mr. Gaston!' shouted a
hundred 'natives.'
Gaston got upon the auction stand, and said:
'I'll serve, gentlemen; but, before we select jurors, the sale must go
on. Miss Preston is not sold yet.'
'All right! all right! Hurry up, Mr. Hammerman!' shouted the crowd.
The auctioneer took his place:
'A thousand dollars is bid for this young lady. Going--gone--_gone_, to
Mr. Joseph Preston.'
Selma put her arms about Joe's neck, and, in broken tones, said: 'My
brother! my dear brother!' Then she laid her head on his shoulder, and
wept--wept unrestrainedly.
Who can fathom the untold misery she had endured within those two hours?