all the world knows it. Talk with men, democrats and whigs, they will
say they like freedom in the abstract, they hate slavery in the
abstract. But you find that somehow they like slavery in the concrete,
and dislike abolitionism when it tries to set free the slave. Slavery is
the affair of the whole people; not Congress, but the nation, made
slavery; made it national, constitutional. Not Congress, but the voters,
must unmake slavery; make it un-constitutional, un-national. They say
Congress cannot do it. Well, perhaps it is so; but they that make can
break. If the people made slavery, they can unmake it.
You talk with the people; the idea of freedom is there. They tell you
they believe the Declaration of Independence--that all men are created
equal. But somehow they contrive to believe that negroes now in bondage
are an exception to the rule, and so they tell us that slavery must not
be meddled with, that we must respect the compromises of the
Constitution. So we see that respect for the Constitution overrides
respect for the inalienable rights of three millions of negro men.
Now, to move men, it is necessary to know two things--first, What they
think, and next, Why they think it. Let us look a little at both.
In New England, men over twenty-one years old may be divided into two
classes. First, the men that vote, and secondly, the men that choose the
Governor. The voters in Massachusetts are some hundred and twenty
thousand; the men that choose the Governor, who tell the people how to
vote, whom to vote for, what laws to make, what to forbid, what policy
to pursue--they are not very numerous. You may take one hundred men out
of Boston, and fifty men from the other large towns in the State--and if
you could get them to be silent till next December, and give no counsel
on political affairs, the people would not know what to do. The
democrats would not know what to do, nor the whigs. We are a very
democratic people, and suffrage is almost universal; but it is a very
few men who tell us how to vote, who make all the most important laws.
Do I err in estimating the number at one hundred and fifty? I do not
like to exaggerate--suppose there are six hundred men, three hundred in
each party; that six hundred manage the political action of the State,
in ordinary times.
I need not stop to ask what the rest of the people think about freedom
and slavery. What do the men who control our politics think thereof? I
answer, They are not opposed to slavery; to the slavery of three
millions of men. They may not like slavery in the abstract, or they may
like it, I do not pretend to judge; but slavery in the concrete, at the
South, they do like; opposition to that slavery, in the mildest form,
or the sternest, they do hate.
That is a serious charge to bring against the prominent rulers of the
State. Let me call your attention to a few facts which prove it. Look at
the men we send to Congress. There are thirty-one New England men in
Congress. By the most liberal construction you can only make out five
anti-slavery men in the whole number. Who ever heard of an anti-slavery
Governor of Massachusetts in this century? Men know what they are about
when they select candidates for election. Do the voters always know what
they are about when they choose them?
Then these men always are in favor of a pro-slavery President. The
President must be a slaveholder. There have been fifteen presidential
elections. Men from the free States have filled the chair twelve years,
or three terms; men from the slave States forty-four years, or eleven
terms. During one term, the chair was filled by an amphibious
presidency, by General Harrison, who was nothing but a concrete
availability, and John Tyler, who was--John Tyler. They called him an
accident; but there are no accidents in politics. A slaveholder presides
over the United States forty-eight years out of sixty! Do those men who
control the politics of New England not like it? It is no such thing.
They love to have it so. We have just seen the democratic party, or
their leaders, nominate General Cass for their candidate--and General
Cass is a northern man; but on that account is he any the less a
pro-slavery man? He did oppose the South once, but it was in pressing a
war with England. Everybody knows General Cass, and I need say no more
about him. But the northern whigs have their leaders--are they
anti-slavery men? Not a whit more. Next week you will see them nominate,
not the great Eastern whig, though he is no opponent of slavery, only an
Expounder and Defender of the Constitution; not the great Western whig,
the Compromiser, though steeped to the lips in slavery; no, they will
nominate General Taylor, a man who lives a little further south, and is
at this moment dyed a little more scarlet with the sin of slavery.
But go a step further as to the proof. Those men who control the
politics of Massachusetts, or New England, or the whole North, they have
never opposed the aggressive movements of the slave power. The
annexation of Texas, did they oppose that? No, they were glad of it.
True, some earnest men came up here in Faneuil Hall, and passed
resolutions, which did no good whatever, because it was well known that
the real controllers of our politics thought the other way. Then
followed the Mexican war. It was a war for slavery, and they knew it;
they like it now--that is, if a man's likings can be found out by his
doings, not his occasional and exceptional deeds, but his regular and
constant actions. They knew that there would be a war against the
currency, a war against the tariff, or a war against Mexico. They chose
the latter. They knew what they were about.
The same thing is shown by the character of the Press. No "respectable"
paper is opposed to slavery; no whig paper, no democratic paper. You
would as soon expect a Catholic newspaper to oppose the Pope and his
church, for the slave power is the Pope of America, though not exactly a
pious Pope. The churches show the same thing; they also are in the main
pro-slavery, at least not anti-slavery. There are some forty
denominations or sects in New England. Mr. President, is one of these
anti-slavery? Not one! The land is full of ministers, respectable men,
educated men--are they opposed to slavery? I do not know a single man,
eminent in any sect, who is also eminent in his opposition to slavery.
There was one such man, Dr. Channing; but just as he became eminent in
the cause of freedom, he lost power in his own church, lost caste in his
own little sect; and though men are now glad to make sectarian capital
out of his reputation after he is dead, when he lived, they cursed him
by their gods! Then, too, all the most prominent men of New England
fraternize with slavery. Massachusetts received such an insult from
South Carolina as no State ever before received from another State in
this Union; an affront which no nation would dare offer another, without
grinding its sword first. And what does Massachusetts do? She
does--nothing. But her foremost man goes off there, "The schoolmaster
that gives no lessons,"[44] to accept the hospitality of the South, to
take the chivalry of South Carolina by the hand; the Defender of the
Constitution fraternizes with the State which violates the Constitution,
and imprisons his own constituents on account of the color of their
skin.
Put all these things together, and they show that the men who control
the politics of Massachusetts, of all New England, do not oppose or
dislike slavery.
* * * * *
So much for what they think; and now for the Why they think so.
First, there is the general indifference to what is absolutely right.
Men think little of it. The Anglo-Saxon race, on both sides of the
water, have always felt the instinct of freedom, and often contended
stoutly enough for their own rights. But they never cared much for the
rights of other men. The slaves are at a distance from us, and so the
wrong of this institution is not brought home to men's feelings as if it
were our own wrong.
Then the pecuniary interests of the North are supposed to be connected
with slavery, so that the North would lose dollars if the South lost
slaves. No doubt this is a mistake; still, it is an opinion currently
held. The North wants a market for its fabrics, freight for its ships.
The South affords it; and, as men think, better than if she had
manufactures and ships of her own, both of which she could have, were
there no slaves. All this seems to be a mistake. Freedom, I think, can
be shown to be the interest of both North and South.
Yet another reason is found in devotion to the interests of a party.
Tell a whig he could make whig capital out of anti-slavery, he would
turn abolitionist in a moment, if he believed you. Tell a democrat that
he can make capital out of abolition, and he also will come over to your
side. But the fact is, each party knows it would gain nothing for its
political purposes by standing out for the rights of man. The time will
come, and sooner too than some men think, when it will be for the
interest of a party to favor abolition; but that time is not yet. It
does seem strange, that while you can find men who will practise a good
deal of self-denial for their sect or their party, lending, and hoping
nothing in return, you so rarely find a man who will compromise even his
popularity for the sake of mankind.
Then again, there is the fear of change. Men who control our politics
seem to have little confidence in man, little in truth, little in
justice, and the eternal right. Therefore, while it is never out of
season to do something for the tariff, for the moneyed interests of men,
they think it is never in time to do much for the great work of
elevating mankind itself. They have no confidence in the people, and
take little pains to make the people worthy of confidence. So any change
which gives a more liberal government to a people, which gives freedom
to the slave, they look on with distrust, if not alarm. In 1830, when
the French expelled the despotic king who encumbered their throne, what
said Massachusetts, what said New England, in honor of the deed?
Nothing. Your old men? Nothing. Your young men? Not a word. What did
they care for the freedom of thirty millions of men? They were looking
at their imports and exports. In 1838, when England set free eight
hundred thousand men in a day, what did Massachusetts say about that?
What had New England to say? Not a word in its favor from these
political leaders of the land. Nay, they thought the experiment was
dangerous, and ever since that it is with great reluctance you can get
them to confess that the scheme works well. In 1848, when France again
expels her king, and all the royalty in the kingdom is carted off in a
one-horse cab--when the broadest principles of human government are laid
down, and a great nation sets about the difficult task of moving out of
her old political house, and into a new one, without tearing down the
old, without butchering men in the process of removal,--why, what has
Boston to say to that? What have the political leaders of Massachusetts,
of New England, to say? They have nothing to say for liberty; they are
sorry the experiment was made; they are afraid the French will not want
so much cotton; they have no confidence in man, and fear every change.
Such are their opinions, to judge by what they do; such the reasons
thereof, judging by what they say.
* * * * *
But now how can we change this, and get the idea of freedom into men's
minds? Something can be done by the gradual elevation of men, by schools
and churches, by the press. The churches and colleges of New England
have not directly aided us in the work of abolishing slavery. No doubt
by their direct action they have retarded that work, and that a good
deal. But indirectly they have done much to hasten the work. They have
helped educate men; helped make men moral, in a general way; and now
this moral power can be turned to this special business, though the
churches say, "No, you shall not." I see before me a good and an earnest
man,[45] who, not opening his mouth in public against slavery, has yet
done a great service in this way: he has educated the teachers of the
Commonwealth, has taught them to love freedom, to love justice, to love
man and God. That is what I call sowing the seeds of anti-slavery. The
honored and excellent Secretary of Education,[46] who has just gone to
stand in the place of a famous man, and I hope to fill it nobly, has
done much in this way. I wish in his reports on education he had exposed
the wrong which is done here in Boston, by putting all the colored
children in one school, by shutting them out of the Latin School and the
English High School. I wish he had done that duty, which plainly belongs
to him to do. But without touching that, he has yet done, indirectly, a
great work towards the abolition of slavery. He has sown the seeds of
education wide spread over the State. One day these seeds will come up;
come up men, men that will both vote and choose the Governor; men that
will love right and justice; will see the iniquity of American slavery,
and sweep it off the continent, cost what it may cost, spite of all
compromises of the Constitution, and all compromisers. I look on that as
certain. But that is slow work, this waiting for a general morality to
do a special act. It is going without dinner till the wheat is grown for
your bread.
So we want direct and immediate action upon the people themselves. The
idea must be set directly before them, with all its sanctions displayed,
and its obligations made known. This can be done in part by the pulpit.
Dr. Channing shows how much one man can do, standing on that eminence.
You all know how much he did do. I am sorry that he came so late, sorry
that he did not do more, but thankful for what he did do. However, you
cannot rely on the pulpit to do much. The pulpit represents the average
goodness and piety; not eminent goodness and piety. It is unfair to call
ordinary men to do extraordinary works. I do not concur in all the hard
things that are said about the clergy, perhaps it is because I am one of
them; but I do not expect a great deal from them. It is hard to call a
class of men all at once to rise above all other classes of men, and
teach a degree of virtue which they do not understand. But you may call
them to be true to their own consciences.
So the pulpit is not to be relied on for much aid. If all the ministers
of New England were abolitionists, with the same zeal that they are
Protestants, Universalists, Methodists, Calvinists, or Unitarians, no
doubt the whole State would soon be an anti-slavery State, and the day
of emancipation would be wonderfully hastened. But that we are not to
look for.
Much can be done by lecturers, who shall go to the people and address
them, not as whigs or democrats, not as sectarians, but as men, and in
the name of man and God present the actual condition of the slaves, and
show the duty of the North and the South, of the nation, in regard to
this matter. For this business, we want money and men, the two sinews of
war; money to pay the men, men to earn the money. They must appeal to
the people in their primary capacity, simply as men.
Much also may be done by the press. How much may be done by these two
means, and that in a few years, these men[47] can tell; all the North
and South can tell. Men of the most diverse modes of thought can work
together in this cause. Here on my right is Mr. Phillips, an
old-fashioned Calvinist, who believes all the five points of Calvinism.
I am rather a new-fashioned Unitarian, and believe only one of the five
points, the one Mr. Phillips has proved--the perseverance of the saints;
but we get along without any quarrel by the way.
Some men will try political action. The action of the people, of the
nation, must be political action. It may be constitutional, it may be
un-constitutional. I see not why men need quarrel about that. Let not
him that voteth, condemn him that voteth not; nor let not him that
voteth not, condemn him that voteth, but let every man be faithful to
his own convictions.
It is said, the abolitionists waste time and wind in denunciation. It is
partly true. I make no doubt it inspires the slaveholder's heart to see
division amongst his foes. I ought to say his friends, for such we are.
He thinks the day of justice is deferred, while the ministers thereof
contend. I do not believe a revolution is to be baptized with
rose-water. I do not believe a great work is to be done without great
passions. It is not to be supposed that the Leviathan of American
Slavery will allow himself to be drawn out of the mire in which he has
made his nest, and grown fat and strong, without some violence and
floundering. When we have caught him fairly, he will put his feet into
the mud to hold on by; he will reach out and catch hold of every thing
that will hold him. He has caught hold of Mr. Clay and Mr. Webster. He
will catch hold of General Cass and General Taylor. He will die, though
slowly, and die hard. Still it is a pity that men who essay to pull him
out, should waste their strength in bickerings with one another, or in
needless denunciation of the leviathan's friends. Call slaveholding,
slaveholding; let us tell all the evils which arise from it, if we can
find language terrible enough; let us show up the duplicity of the
nation, the folly of our wise men, the littleness of our great men, the
baseness of our honorable men, if need be; but all that with no unkind
feelings toward any one. Virtue never appears so lovely as when
destroying sin, she loves the sinner, and seeks to save him. Absence of
love is absence of the strongest power. See how much Mr. Adams lost of
his influence, how much he wasted of his strength, by the violence with
which he pursued persons. I am glad to acknowledge the great services he
performed. He wished to have every man stand on the right side of the
anti-slavery line; but I believe there were some men whom he would like
to have put there with a pitch-fork. On the other hand, Dr. Channing
never lost a moment by attacking a personal foe; and see what he gained
by it! However, I must say this, that no great revolution of opinion and
practice was ever brought about before with so little violence, waste of
force, and denunciation. Consider the greatness of the work: it is to
restore three millions to liberty; a work, in comparison with which the
American Revolution was a little thing. Yet consider the violence, the
denunciation, the persecution, and the long years of war, which that
Revolution cost. I do not wonder that abolitionists are sometimes
violent; I only deplore it. Remembering the provocation, I wonder they
are not more so and more often. The prize is to be run for, "not without
dust and heat."
Working in this way, we are sure to succeed. The idea is an eternal
truth. It will find its way into the public mind, for there is that
sympathy between man and the truth, that he cannot live without it and
be blessed. What allies we have on our side! True, the cupidity, the
tyranny, the fear and the atheism of the land are against us. But all
the nobleness, all the honor, all the morality, all the religion, are on
our side. I was sorry to hear it said, that the religion of the land
opposed us. It is not true. Religion never opposed any good work. I know
what my friend meant, and I wish he had said it, calling things by their
right names. It is the irreligion of the land that favors slavery; it is
the idolatry of gold; it is our atheism. Of speculative atheism there is
not much; you see how much of the practical!
We are certain of success; the spirit of the age is on our side. See how
the old nations shake their tyrants out of the land. See how every
steamer brings us good tidings of good things; and do you believe
America can keep her slaves? It is idle to think so. So all we want is
time. On our side are Truth, Justice, and the Eternal Right. Yes, on our
side is religion, the religion of Christ; on our side are the hopes of
mankind, and the great power of God.
FOOTNOTES:
[44] This was a sentiment offered at a public dinner given by the
citizens of Charleston, S. C., to Hon. Daniel Webster.
[45] Rev. Cyrus Pierce, Teacher of the Normal School at Newton.
[46] Hon. Horace Mann.
[47] Messrs. Garrison, Phillips and Quincy.
IX.
SOME THOUGHTS ON THE FREE SOIL PARTY AND THE ELECTION OF GENERAL TAYLOR.
DECEMBER, 1848.
The people of the United States have just chosen an officer, who, for
the next four years, will have more power than any monarch of Europe;
yet three years ago he was scarcely known out of the army in Florida,
and even now has appeared only in the character of a successful general.
His supporters at the North intend, by means of his election, to change
the entire commercial policy of the country, and perhaps, also, its
financial policy; they contemplate, or profess to contemplate, a great
change. Yet the election has been effected without tumult or noise; not
a soldier has drawn his bayonet; scarcely has a constable needed his
official rod to keep order withal. In Europe, at the same time, the
beginning of a change in the national dynasty or the national policy is
only attempted by violence, by soldiers with arms ready for fight, by
battle and murder. One day or another, men will be wise enough to see
the cause of this difference, and insular statesmen in England, who now
sneer at the new government in America, may learn that democracy has at
least one quality--that of respecting law and order, and may live to see
ours the oldest government in the whole Caucasian race.
Since the election is now over, it is worth while to look a moment at
the politics and political parties of the country, that we may gain
wisdom for the future, and perhaps hope; at any rate, may see the actual
condition of things. Each political party is based on an Idea, which
corresponds to a Truth, or an Interest. It commonly happens that the
idea is represented as an interest, and the interest as an idea, before
either becomes the foundation of a large party. Now when a new idea is
introduced to any party, or applied to any institution, if it be only
auxiliary to the old doctrines incarnated therein, a regular growth and
new development take place; but when the new idea is hostile to the old,
the development takes place under the form of a revolution, and that
will be greater or less in proportion to the difference between the new
idea and the old doctrine; in proportion to their relative strength and
value. As Aristotle said of seditions, a revolution comes on slight
occasions, but not of slight causes;[48] the occasion may be obvious
and obviously trivial, but the cause obscure and great. The occasion of
the French Revolution of 1848 was afforded by the attempt of the king to
prevent a certain public dinner: he had a legal right to prevent it. The
cause of the Revolution was a little different; but some men in America
and England, at first, scarcely looked beyond the occasion, and, taking
that for the cause, thought the Frenchmen fools to make so much ado
about a trifle, and that they had better eat their _soupe maigre_ at
home, and let their victuals stop their mouths. The occasion of the
American Revolution may be found in the Stamp-Act, or the Sugar-Act, the
Writs of Assistance, or the Boston Port-Bill; some men, even now, see no
further, and logically conclude the colonists made a mistake, because
for a dozen years they were far worse off than before the "Rebellion,"
and have never been so lightly taxed since. Such men do not see the
cause of the Revolution, which was not an unwillingness to pay taxes,
but a determination to govern themselves.