"My dear Albert," responded Mary, "you make me to see all this in a

new light. I confess I never before properly understood the doctrine

of the atonement. I did not before understand that atonement for man,

and reconciliation between God and man, were one and the same thing.

But I now perceive that there is no atonement unless we become

Christ-like; and that just in proportion as we are Christ-like, we are

in harmony with God, and are thus far saved. God converts the soul

from the love of sin to the love of Christ, and that love of Christ

insures obedience to his commandments to the full measure of our

knowledge. To be clothed upon then with the righteousness of Christ,

and to have Christ's righteousness imputed to us, are not terms

signifying a righteousness extraneous from ourselves, and only

regarded in place of righteousness in us, but really and truly to

manifest a righteousness which will be seen and recognized by our

ownselves and others as a righteousness derived from Christ, because

we live as Christ would have us to live. O how pleasant it is to see

the matter in so clear a light!"

"And now," said Albert, "I wish to know how it is you a little while

ago called yourself an Abolitionist. Did you really mean what you said

in its full import?"

"Yes I did," replied Mary. "That argument made by Mr. Gracelius was so

exactly similar to the mode of interpreting the Scriptures in behalf

of slavery, that I at once saw if it were good for slavery, it was

just as good in defence of piracy; and that I must give up the Bible

under such a mode of interpretation, or admit that piracy itself is

sanctioned by the Bible. I could not give up my precious Bible, for I

have felt so much of its hallowed influences upon my soul, that I

could not think of parting from it. I have, like yourself, spent this

voyage studying it with great care, and whatever may be the criticisms

of the learned upon words, I am certain that the whole spirit of

Christianity, as developed before and since Christ, utterly condemns

any and every system, or practice, or principle which does not

recognize all men as brethren. And I also perceive that many things

have been wrested from their original meaning to subserve the

purposes of oppression and tyranny. I now so read that good book, that

I discriminate between the erroneous ideas and practices of the Jews

and the divine law--between historical facts and traditional

inferences--between man's misconceptions and the true principles of

religion. I now can and do see from the Bible itself that slavery is

all wrong; and being so, I am obliged to be an Abolitionist; for I

know that no Christian ought to continue the practice of what is wrong

in itself on any consideration. But, Albert, how was it that you who

did not believe in the Bible, became an Abolitionist?"

"Why, Mary, the truth is, I did not believe in the Bible, because,

being an Abolitionist, professed Christians and ministers instructed

me that the Bible sanctioned slavery, and that it required obedience

to earthly masters and rulers, even although their commands and laws

be contrary to the divine law. This was so contrary to my sense of

natural right, that I said to myself I cannot honor the true God by

submitting to the authority of the Bible; and therefore it was I took

an utter aversion to the Bible. My respect for my parents prevented me

from telling them when they would urge me to read the Bible, that

their own views and practice had already convinced me that it was an

unrighteous book; for I could not believe that my father would hold

slaves under any conviction of its rightfulness drawn from nature, and

that my mother would treat the blacks as she did, had she been

governed by her natural sense of justice; but that by early education

in the Bible, they had been trained to regard slaveholding perfectly

compatible with the divine law, and the black as some heathenish

being, whom it was no oppression to enslave. But now having examined

the Bible with care, I see that they who take that Book to justify the

enslaving of men, have been most dreadfully deluded."

"Well, Albert," said Mary, "you know the obligations of Christianity

require action as well as sentiment. If we are Christians truly, we

have to serve Christ fully. We dare not, therefore, withhold our

testimony against slavery any more than against any other crime. How

then can we return to Carolina? We cannot be happy there amidst an

institution which we abhor."

"Mary, like yourself, I now feel," said Albert, "that a Christian must

not hide his light under a bushel. We must speak for the dumb and for

the truth as it is in Jesus. But with such views and intentions we

would not be suffered in South Carolina. What, then, are we to do?"

Mary, after a few moments' meditation, answered, "Albert, our parents

think we were lost with the Pulaski. Let it stand so. They will suffer

more if we go back to them with such sentiments as we now entertain.

And for your sake, and for our parents' sake, and for the sake of

Christ, I am willing to sacrifice all my worldly prospects and try to

make a living by my own exertions in some place where my own feelings

will not be shocked with the perpetual violation of Christian law by

my own slaveholding relatives, and where I shall not be myself an

annoyance to them."

Here their dialogue was interrupted by the arrival of the ship at the

wharf, and in a short time our young friends were safely landed in New

York.

Suffice it to say, in conclusion, that they both agreed never more to

be dependent on the wealth of their parents,--assured as they were

that all they could bestow upon them would be the product of

unrequited toil. They were soon united in holy wedlock, and, after

engaging in teaching an academy a short time, Albert became a faithful

and zealous minister of the gospel; and he and his loving wife in

process of time succeeded in revealing their situation to their

parents, in such terms as to reconcile them to their anti-slavery

views, and to induce them finally to emancipate their slaves.

They are all living happily in moderate circumstances, in a little

town in one of the free States,--in the direct line of the

"under-ground railroad;" and many a poor fugitive finds a comfortable

shelter in either of their humble cottages.

A short time since, Mary was reading the discussion between Dr.

Wayland and Dr. Fuller, on the subject of slavery, and was startled to

find the very words of Mr. Gracelius and his identical argument, used

by the champion of American slavery.

"Albert," said she to her husband, "would you believe it, Dr. Fuller

and Mr. Gracelius are one and the same person."

"It surely cannot be!" said Albert. But to this day the matter looks

very mysterious to them. And it is hoped that Dr. Fuller or Dr.

Wayland will explain the coincidence of the arguments in some

satisfactory manner.

[Illustration: (signature) Wm. Henry Brisbane]

Toil and Trust.

This is the motto of all persons sincerely disposed to embrace the

cross of the anti-slavery enterprise. The duty it imposes is two-fold;

1. To _toil_ for the spread of the truth; and 2. To _trust_ to the

dissipation of error. The most potent barrier set up against the

opponents of slavery is made of the prejudices carefully instilled

into the popular mind against them. I propose, in brief, to point out

their origin.

It is sedulously inculcated:

1. That anti-slavery is a pure sectional feeling, and springs from

jealousy of the South.

Fifty years ago this idea might fairly have been entertained. Many of

the arguments then used have no better root than political jealousy.

But it is not so now. The ruling objection at present is, that slavery

is WRONG, no matter where it may be found; that it is a moral evil,

and an offence against religion, not less than a great political

curse; that indifference to it among good men encourages its extension

among bad men; and that nothing but resolute and universal

condemnation of it in every form will stimulate to its abolition. How

far these views are from jealousy of the South, must appear obvious

enough to all who reflect that those who entertain them, consider the

result to be arrived at as one which must spring from the voluntary

convictions of those most affected by it, that they are getting rid of

the only serious drawback to their own prosperity. Of course, then, it

is the best interests of the South,--their strength, moral, social,

and political,--that anti-slavery men believe they are promoting, by

their course.

2. That the enemies of slavery desire to subvert the Constitution and

to dissolve the Union.

Possibly, a few impatient spirits may have got so far. They

constitute, however, but a very small portion of the number included

in the term. Nine-tenths of these hold that neither the Constitution

nor the Union should be brought into question at all. They consider

that the resort to them as a protection and safeguard to slavery, by

ill-judging and rash conservatives, has done more to put them into

serious danger, than the acts of all others combined during the

present century. Any man who relies upon a good government to sustain

acknowledged evil, does much to modify the notions of goodness which

honest and conscientious men have entertained respecting that

government. He furnishes an entering wedge for doubt and distrust,

which, if not removed, will grow into aversion. Anti-slavery men

reason differently. They separate slavery from the Constitution and

the Union, and, by seeking to destroy the former, desire to perpetuate

the latter. They hold, that against the concentrated moral sentiment

of the whole country, acting through its legitimate public channels,

and aided by the prayers and the hopes of all the civilized world, it

would be much more difficult to maintain slavery in the States, than

if the dangers of general misgovernment and disunion were to come in

to distract the public attention, and open up social disasters of a

worse kind than those which they seek to remedy.

3. The spirit of this reform is denunciatory, violent, and

proscriptive.

It is inevitable that all movements directed against the established

errors of communities originate with men more or less fanatical in

spirit. None but they have the necessary elements of character to

advance at all. But, as others become convinced of the fundamental

truths which they utter, the tendency of their association is to

modify and soften the tone, and make it more nearly approximate the

correct sentiment. At this period, there is quite as much of

liberality among anti-slavery men as is consistent with a determined

maintenance of their general purpose. Though disposed to be just to

all who conscientiously differ with them in opinion, they cannot

overlook the fact that many honest persons are too indifferent, and

more are too compromising in their views of slavery. To rouse the one,

and alarm the other class into a conviction of their responsibility

for their apathy, is one of the most imperative duties. It may be that

this is not always done in the most courtly or the choicest terms.

Some allowances must be made for the spirit of liberty. These cases

form, however, the exception, and not the rule, among anti-slavery

men. The great majority well comprehend that the greatest results will

follow efforts made without bitterness of temper. They remember that

whilst the Saviour denounced without stint the formal scribe, the

hollow Pharisee, and the greedy money-changer, he chose for his sphere

of exertion the society of publicans and sinners.

4. Anti-slavery men seek to set slaves against their masters, at the

risk of the lives and happiness of both.

This impression, which is much the most common, is, at the same time,

the least founded in truth of all. No evidence, worthy of a moment's

credit, has ever been produced, implicating any class of them in a

suspicion of the kind. Nothing proves the absence of all malignity

towards the slaveholders more clearly than this. If they sought really

to injure them, what could be more easy than to stimulate disaffection

along so extensive a line of boundary as that of the slave States?

Probably few of them entertain any doubt of the abstract _right_ of

the slave to free himself from the condition in which he is kept

against his own consent, in any manner practicable. How easy then the

step from this opinion to an act of encouragement! That it has never

been taken furnishes the most conclusive proof of the falsity of the

popular impression, and of the moderations of the anti-slavery men,

who seek only, in the moral convictions of the masters, for the

source of freedom to the slaves.

But though it be true that all these common impressions are delusions

strewn in the way of anti-slavery men to impair the effect of their

exertions, it by no means follows that they should be induced by them

to assume a moderation which encourages sluggishness. No great

movement in human affairs can be made without zeal, energy, and

perseverance. It must be animated by a strong will, and tempered by a

benevolent purpose. Such is the shape which the anti-slavery reform is

gradually assuming. Its motto, then, should be, as was said in the

beginning:

"TOIL AND TRUST."

[Illustration: (signature) Charles Francis Adams.]

QUINCY, 10 July, 1853.

Friendship for the Slave is Friendship for the Master.

It is a mistake on the part of the people of the south to suppose that

those who desire the extinction of slavery, whether residing in

America or England, are actuated by unfriendly feelings toward them

personally, or by any hostility to the pecuniary or social interests

of their section of country. The most important and influential

classes of the population, both of England and of the northern States

of this Union, have a direct and strong pecuniary interest at stake,

in the prosperity and welfare of the south. If the people of

Massachusetts or those of Lancashire were employed in raising cotton

and sugar, and if the prices which they obtained for their produce

were kept down by southern competition, then there might perhaps be

some ground for suspecting a covert hostility in any action or

influence which they might attempt to exert on such a question. But

the contrary is the fact. New England and Old England manufacture and

consume the cotton and sugar which the south produces. They are

directly and deeply interested in having the production of these

articles go on in the most advantageous manner possible. The southern

planter is not their competitor and rival. He is their partner. His

work is to them and to their pursuits one of co-operation and aid.

Consequently his prosperity is their prosperity, and his ruin would be

an irretrievable disaster, not a benefit, to them. They are thus

naturally his friends, and, consequently, when in desiring a change in

the relation which subsists between him and his laborers, they declare

that they are not actuated by any unfriendly feeling toward him, but

honestly think that the change would be beneficial to all concerned,

there is every reason why they should be believed.

There was a time when the laboring population of England occupied a

position in respect to the proprietors of the soil there, very

analogous to that now held by African slaves in our country. But the

system has been changed. From being serfs, compelled to toil for

masters, under the influence of compulsion or fear, they have become a

free peasantry, working in the employment of landlords, for wages.

But this change has not depressed or degraded the landlords, or

injured them in any way. On the contrary, it has probably elevated and

improved the condition of the master quite as much as it has that of

the man.

Imagine such a change as this on any southern plantation: the

Christian master desiring conscientiously to obey the divine

command,--given expressly for his guidance, in his responsible

relation of employer,--that he should "give unto his servants that

which is just and equal,--forbearing threatening,"--resolves that he

will henceforth induce industry on his estate by the payment of honest

wages, instead of coercing his laborers by menaces and stripes; and

after carefully considering the whole ground, he estimates, as fairly

and faithfully as he can, what proportion of the whole avails of his

culture properly belong to the labor performed by his men, and what to

the capital, skill, and supervision, furnished and exercised by

himself,--and then fixes upon a rate of wages, graduating the scale

fairly and honestly according to the strength, the diligence, and the

fidelity of the various laborers. Suppose, also, that some suitable

arrangement is made on the plantation or in the vicinity, by which the

servants can expend what they earn, in such comforts, ornaments, or

luxuries as are adapted to their condition and their ideas. Suppose

that, in consequence of the operation of this system, the laborers,

instead of desiring, as now, to make their escape from the scene of

labor, should each prize and value his place in it, and fear

dismission from it as a punishment. Suppose that through the change

which this new state of things should produce, it should become an

agreeable and honorable duty to superintend and manage the system, as

it is now agreeable and honorable to superintend the operations of a

manufactory, or the construction or working of a railway, or the

building of a fortress, or any other organized system of industry

where the workmen are paid, and that consequently, instead of rude and

degraded overseers, intemperate and profane, extorting labor by

threats and severity, there should be found a class of intelligent,

humane, and honest men, to direct and superintend the industry of the

estate,--men whom the proprietor would not be ashamed to associate

with, or to admit to his parlor or table. In a word, suppose that the

general contentment and happiness which the new system would induce in

all concerned in it, were such that peace of mind should return to

the master's breast, now,--especially in hours of sickness and

suffering, and at the approach of death,--so often disturbed, and a

sense of safety be restored to his family, so that it should no longer

be necessary to keep the pistols or the rifle always at hand, and that

the wife and children could lie down and sleep at night, without

starting at unusual or sudden sounds, or apprehending insurrection

when they hear the cry of fire. Suppose that such a change as this

were possible, is it the part of a friend or an enemy to desire to

have it effected?

But all such suppositions as these, the southern man will perhaps say,

are visionary and utopian in the highest degree. No such state of

things as is contemplated by them, can by any possibility be realized

with such a population as the southern slaves. Very well; say _this_,

if you please, and prove it, if it can be proved. But do not charge

those who desire that it might be realized, with being actuated, in

advocating the change, by unfriendly feelings towards you,--for most

assuredly they do not entertain any.

[Illustration: (signature) Jacob Abbott.]

Christine.

"O, these childen, how they do lie round our hearts."--MILLY

EDMONDSON.

The clock struck the appointed hour, and the sale commenced. Articles

of household furniture, horses, carts, and slaves, were waiting

together to be sold to the highest bidder. For strange as it would

seem in another land than this, beneath the ample folds of the

"Star-spangled Banner," _human sinews_ were to be bought and sold.

Bodies, such as the Apostle called the "temples of the Holy Ghost," in

which dwelt souls for which Christ died;--men, women and little

children, made in the image of God, were classed with marketable

commodities, to be sold by the pound, like dumb beasts in the

shambles. Husbands would be torn from their wives, mothers from their

children, and _all_ from everything they loved most dearly.

The group of _human chattels_ excited great interest among the

lookers-on, for they were a choice lot of prime negroes, and rumor

said that he would get a rare bargain who bought that day.

It was a saddening sight, that dusky group, whose only crime was being

"---- guilty of a skin

Not colored like our own,"

as they waited with anxious looks and quivering hearts to hear their

doom, filling up the dreary moments with thoughts of the chances and

changes which overhung their future.

A bright-eyed boy, of twelve years old,

"A brave, free-hearted, careless one,"

with a proud spirit playing in every line of his handsome face, and in

every movement of his graceful form, was first called to the

auction-block. His good qualities were rapidly enumerated, his limbs

rudely examined, his soundness vouched for, and he became the chattel

personal of a Georgian, who boasted of his good bargain; and on being

warned that he would have trouble with the boy, declared with an oath,

that he would "soon take the devil out of him."

Matty, a sister of this lad, was next placed upon the stand. Her

beauty, which the excitement of that dreadful moment only served to

heighten, hushed for awhile the coarse jests of the crowd. She was a

splendid-looking creature, just entering upon womanhood. But her

beauty proved, as beauty must ever prove to a slave woman, a deadly

curse. It enhanced her market value, and sealed her deadly fate. It

attracted the eye, and inflamed the passions of a wealthy Louisianian,

named St. Laurent, who gave a thousand dollars in hard gold in

exchange for her, that he might make her his petted favorite. Wives,

mothers, daughters of America, have _you_ nothing to do with slavery,

when such is the fate of slave women? _Can_ you sit silent, and at

your ease, knowing that such things are?

When Matty was removed from the auction-block, she fell upon her

brother's neck, and wept such tears as only they can weep whom slavery

parts, never to meet again.

"Christine!" cried the loud voice of the auctioneer. Matty checked her

passionate grief, and turning saw her mother, with her baby in her

arms, standing where she herself had stood but just before. Quickly

her keen eye sought the form of her new master. With a sudden impulse

she threw herself at his feet, exclaiming, "O master, master, _do_ buy

my mother too!" The man gazed for a moment on the beautiful face

upturned to his, with a look which made the lashes droop over her

pleading eyes, and tapping her cheek with his finger, he said,

"What! coaxing so early, my pretty one? No, no; it will not do; I have

no use for the old woman."

"Oh, master, she is not old. _Do_ buy my mother, master!"

"Here is a prize for you, gentlemen," broke in the harsh tones of the

auctioneer. "There is the best housekeeper and cook in all Virginia.

Who bids for her? $300 did you say, sir? $325--thanks, gentlemen, but

I cannot sell this woman for a song. She is an excellent seamstress.

$400--$450--$500--I am glad to see you are warming up a little,

gentlemen,--but she is worth more money than that. Look at her! What a

form! what an eye! what arms!--there is muscle for you, gentlemen.

Upon my honor she is the flower of the lot,--a dark-colored

rose,--black, but comely; and her baby goes with her. $550, did I

hear you say, sir? Will no one give more than $550 for such a woman

and baby?"

"The baby is of no account," said Mr. St. Laurent; "she would sell

better without it. If I buy her, I shall give away the little

encumbrance."

The poor slave-mother heard him, and strained her baby to her bosom,

as if she would say, "You shall _never_ take him from me." The boy

looked into her face, and smiled a sweet baby smile, and put his

little arms about her neck, and laid his cheek on hers. One would have

thought he understood what was passing in her heart, and strove to

comfort her. "$575--$600--$650,"--and Christine and her baby boy

became the property of Mr. St. Laurent.

"I would not have bought the woman," said he, turning to an

acquaintance, "but for the girl's importunity. I feared she would have

the sulks if I didn't, and I want to keep her good-natured. I shall

give the mother as a wedding-present to my daughter. But anybody may

have the child, who will take him off my hands?"

"I will take him, sir, and thank you too," said a little, sharp

looking, bustling man, stepping briskly up, and bowing to Mr. St.

Laurent.

"Will you, my friend? Then he is yours, and you may take him away as

soon as you please."

"If I take him now, the woman will raise a storm," said the little

man; "I know a better way than that," and drawing Mr. St. Laurent

aside, he communicated his plan, and they parted mutually satisfied.

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