MR. PRESIDENT, AND GENTLEMEN OF THE MERCANTILE LIBRARY
ASSOCIATION:--
I have been honored by an invitation to deliver an address,
introductory to the annual course of lectures which your Association
bountifully contributes to the pastime, instruction, and elevation of
our community. You know, Sir, something of the reluctance with which,
embarrassed by other cares, I undertook this service,--yielding to
kindly and persistent pressure, which only a nature sterner than mine
could resist. And now I am here to perform what I promised.
I am to address the Mercantile Library Association of Boston,
numbering, according to your last Report, two thousand and
seventy-eight members, and possessing a library of more than fifteen
thousand volumes. With so many members and so many books, yours is
an institution of positive power. Two distinct features appear in
its name. It is, primarily, an association of persons in mercantile
pursuits; and it is, next, an association for the improvement of
its members, particularly through books. In either particular it
is entitled to regard. But it possesses yet another feature, more
interesting still, which does not appear in its name. It is an
association of YOUNG MEN, with hearts yet hospitable to
generous words, and with resolves not yet vanquished by the trials and
temptations of life. Especially does this last consideration fill me
with a deep sense of the privilege and responsibility to which you have
summoned me. I am aware, that, according to usage, the whole circle
of knowledge, thought, and aspiration is open to the speaker; but, as
often as I have revolved the occasion in my mind, I have been brought
back to the peculiar character of your Association, and have found
myself unwilling to touch any theme not addressed to you especially as
merchants.
I might fitly speak to you of books; and here, while considering
principles to govern the student in his reading, it would be pleasant
to dwell on the profitable delights, better than a "shower of cent per
cent," on the society, better than fashion or dissipation, and on that
completeness of satisfaction, outvying the possessions of wealth, and
making the "library dukedom large enough,"--all of which are found
in books. But I leave this theme. I might also fitly speak to you of
young men, their claims and duties; and here again, while enforcing
the precious advantages of Occupation, it would be pleasant to unfold
and vindicate that reverence which Antiquity wisely accorded to youth,
as the season of promise and hope, pregnant with an unknown future,
and therefore to be watched with tenderness and care,--to show how in
every young man the uncertain measure of capacities yet undeveloped
gives scope to magnificence of anticipation beyond any reality,--and to
inquire what must be done, that all this anticipation may not wholly
die while the young man lives. But there are other things which beckon
me away. Not on books, not on youth must I speak, but on yet another
topic, suggested directly by the name of your Association.
With your kind permission, I shall speak to-night on what this age
requires from the mercantile profession, or rather, since nothing is
justly required which is not due, what the mercantile profession owes
to this age. I would show the principle by which we are to be guided
in making the _account current_ between the mercantile profession and
Humanity, and, might I so aspire, hold up the _Looking-Glass of the
Good Merchant_. And since example is better than precept, and deeds
are more than words, I shall exhibit the career of a remarkable man,
whose simple life, beginning as apprentice to a linen-draper, and never
getting beyond a clerkship, shows what may be accomplished by faithful,
humble labor, and reveals precisely those qualities which in this age
are needed to crown the character of the Good Merchant.
* * * * *
"I hold every man a debtor to his profession," was a saying of Lord
Bacon, repeated by his contemporary and rival, Lord Coke. But this
does not tell the whole truth. It restricts within the narrow circle
of a profession obligations which are broad and universal as humanity.
Rather should it be said that every man owes a debt to mankind. In
determining the debt of the merchant, we must first appreciate his
actual position in the social system.
At the dawn of modern times trade was unknown. There was nothing then
like a policy of insurance, a bank, a bill of exchange, or even a
promissory note. The very term "chattels," so comprehensive in its
present application, yet, when considered in its derivation from the
mediæval Latin _catalla_, cattle, reveals the narrow inventory of
personal property in those days, when "two hundred sheep" were paid by
a pious Countess of Anjou for a coveted volume of Homilies. The places
of honor and power were then occupied by men who had distinguished
themselves by the sword, and were known under the various names of
Knight, Baron, Count, or--highest of all--Duke, _Dux_, leader in war.
Under these influences the feudal system was organized, with its
hierarchy of ranks, in mutual relations of dependence and protection;
and society for a while rested in its shadow. The steel-clad chiefs who
enjoyed power had a corresponding responsibility, while the mingled
gallantry and gentleness of chivalry often controlled the iron hand. It
was the dukes who led the forces; it was the counts or earls who placed
themselves at the head of their respective counties; it was the knights
who went forth to do battle with danger, in whatever form, whether from
robbers or wild beasts. It was the barons of Runnymede--there was no
merchant there--who extorted from King John that Magna Charta which
laid the corner-stone of English and American liberty.
Meanwhile trade made its humble beginnings. But for a long time the
merchant was of a despised caste, only next above the slave who was
sold as a chattel. If a Jew, he was often compelled, under direful
torture, to surrender his gains; if a foreigner, he earned toleration
by inordinate contribution to the public revenue; if a native, he
was treated as caitiff too mean for society, and only good enough to
be taxed. In the time of Chaucer he had so far come up, that he was
admitted to the promiscuous company, ranging from knight to miller, who
undertook the merry pilgrimage from the Tabard Inn to Canterbury; but
the gentle poet satirically exposes his selfish talk:--
"His resons spake he ful solempnely,
Souning alway the encrese of his winning:
He wold the see were kept for any thing
Betwixen Middelburgh and Orewell."[140]
[140] Canterbury Tales, Prologue, 276-279.
The man of trade was so low, that it took him long to rise. A London
merchant, the famous Gresham, in the time of Elizabeth, founded
the Royal Exchange, and a college also; but trade continued still
a butt for jest and gibe. At a later day an English statute gave
new security to the merchant's accounts; but the contemporaneous
dramatists exhibited him to the derision of the theatre, and even the
almanacs exposed his ignorant superstitions by chronicling the days
supposed to be favorable or unfavorable to trade. But in the grand
mutations of society the merchant throve. His wealth increased, his
influence extended, and he gradually drew into his company decayed or
poverty-stricken members of feudal families, till at last in France
(I do not forget the exceptional condition of Italy), at the close of
the seventeenth century, an edict was put forth, which John Locke has
preserved in the journal of his travels, "that those who merchandise,
but do not use the yard, shall not lose their gentility"[141]
(admirable discrimination!); and in England, at the close of the
eighteenth century, his former degradation and growing importance
were attested in the saying of Dr. Johnson, that "an English merchant
is a new species of gentleman."[142] But this high arbiter, bending
under feudal traditions, would not even then concede to him any
merit,--proclaiming that there were "no qualities in trade that should
entitle a man to superiority,"--that "we cannot think that a fellow,
by sitting all day at a desk, is entitled to get above us,"--and to
the supposition by his faithful Boswell, that a merchant might be a
man of enlarged mind, the determined moralist replied: "Why, Sir, we
may suppose any fictitious character; but there is nothing in trade
connected with an enlarged mind."[143]
[141] King's Life of Locke, Vol. I. p. 104.
[142] Boswell's Life of Johnson, ed. Croker, (London, 1835,) Vol.
II. p. 294, note, anno 1765.
[143] Boswell's Johnson, Vol. V. pp. 63, 64, Oct. 18, 1773.
In America feudalism never prevailed, and our Revolution severed the
only cord by which we were connected with this ancient system. It
was fit that the Congress which performed this memorable act should
have for its President a merchant. It was fit, that, in promulgating
the Declaration of Independence, by which, in the face of kings,
princes, and nobles, the New Era was inaugurated, the education of the
counting-house should flaunt conspicuously in the broad and clerkly
signature of JOHN HANCOCK. Our fathers "builded better than
they knew"; and these things are typical of the social change then
taking place. By yet another act, fresh in your recollection, and of
peculiar interest to this assembly, has our country borne the same
testimony. A distinguished merchant of Boston, who has ascended through
all the gradations of trade, honored always for private virtues as
well as public abilities,--need I mention the name of ABBOTT
LAWRENCE?--has been sent to the Court of St. James as ambassador
of our Republic, and with that proud commission, higher than any patent
of nobility, taken precedence of nobles in that ancient realm. Here I
see the triumph of personal merit, but still more the consummation of a
new epoch.
Yes, Sir! say what you will, this is the day of the merchant. As in the
early ages war was the great concern of society, and the very pivot
of power, so is trade now; and as feudal chiefs were the "notables,"
placed at the very top of their time, so are merchants now. All things
attest the change. War, which was once the universal business, is
now confined to a few; once a daily terror, it is now the accident
of an age. Not for adventures of the sword, but for trade, do men
descend upon the sea in ships, and traverse broad continents on iron
pathways. Not for protection against violence, but for trade, do men
come together in cities, and rear the marvellous superstructure of
social order. If they go abroad, or if they stay at home, it is trade
that controls them, without distinction of persons. In our country
every man is trader: the physician trades his benevolent care; the
lawyer trades his ingenious tongue; the clergyman trades his prayers.
And trade summons from the quarry choicest marble and granite to build
its capacious homes, and now, in our own city, displays warehouses
which outdo the baronial castle, and sales-rooms which outdo the ducal
palace. With these magnificent appliances, the relations of dependence
and protection, marking the early feudalism, are reproduced in the
more comprehensive feudalism of trade. There are European bankers who
vie in power with the dukes and princes of other days, and there are
traffickers everywhere whose title comes from the ledger and not the
sword, fit successors to counts, barons, and knights. As the feudal
chief allocated to himself and his followers that soil which was the
prize of his strong arm, so now the merchant, with grasp more subtle
and reaching, allocates to himself and his followers, ranging through
multitudinous degrees of dependence, all the spoils of every land,
triumphantly won by trade. I would not press this parallel too far;
but at this moment, especially in our country, the merchant, more
than any other character, stands in the very boots of the feudal
chief. Of all pursuits or relations, his is now the most extensive and
formidable, making all others its tributaries, and bending at times
even the lawyer and the clergyman to be its dependent stipendiaries.
Such, in our social system, is the merchant; and on this precise and
incontrovertible statement I found his duties. Wealth, power, and
influence are not for self-indulgence merely, and just according to
their extent are the obligations _to others_ which they impose. If,
by the rule of increase, to him that hath is given, so in the same
degree new duties are superadded: nor can any man escape from their
behests. If the merchant be in reality our feudal lord, he must render
feudal service; if he be our modern knight, he must do knightly deeds;
if he be the baron of our day, let him maintain baronial charity to
the humble,--ay, Sir, and baronial courage against tyrannical wrong,
whatsoever form it may assume. Even if I err in attributing to him this
peculiar position, I do not err in attributing to him these duties;
for his influence is surely great, and he is at least a man, bound by
simple manhood to regard nothing human as foreign to his heart.
The special perils which aroused the age of chivalry have passed away.
Monsters, in the form of dragons, griffins, or unicorns, no longer
ravage the land. Giants have disappeared from the scene. Robbers have
been dislodged from castle and forest. Godeschal the Iron-hearted,
and Robin Hood, are each without descendants. In the new forms which
society assumes, touched by the potent wand of trade, there is no place
for any of these. But wrong and outrage are not yet extinct. Cast out
of one body, they enter straightway another, whence, too, they must be
cast out. Alas! in our day, amidst all this teeming civilization, with
the horn of Abundance at our gates, with the purse of Fortunatus in
our hands, with professions of Christianity on our lips, and with the
merchant installed in the high places of Chivalry, there are sorrows
not less poignant than those which once enkindled knightly sympathy,
and there is wrong which vies in loathsomeness with early monsters, in
power with early giants, and in existing immunity with robbers once
sheltered by castle and forest,--stalking through your streets in
the abused garb of Law itself, and by its hateful presence dwarfing
all the atrocities of another age. A wicked man is a deplorable
sight; but a wicked law is worse than any wicked man, even than the
wretch who steals human beings from their home in Africa; nor can its
outrage be redressed by any incidental charities, perishing at night
as manna in the wilderness. Like the monster, it must be overpowered;
like the robber, it must be chained; like the wild beast, it must be
exterminated.
To the merchant, then, especially to the young merchant, I appeal,
by the position you have won and by the power which is yours,--go
forth to redress these grievances, whatever they may be, whether in
the sufferings of the solitary soul or audaciously organized in the
likeness of law. That I may not seem to hold up any impracticable
standard, that the path of duty may not appear difficult, and that
no young man need hesitate, even though he find himself alone and
opposed by numbers, let me present briefly, as becomes the hour, the
example and special achievement of GRANVILLE SHARP, the
humble Englishman, who, without wealth, fame, or power, did not
hesitate to set himself against the merchants of the time, against
the traditions of the English bar, against the authority of learned
lawyers, and against the power of magistrates, until, by persevering
effort, he compelled the highest tribunal of the land to declare the
grand constitutional truth, that the slave who sets his foot on British
ground becomes that instant free. His character of pure and courageous
principle may be little regarded yet; but as time advances, it will
become a guiding luminary. There are stars aloft, centres of other
systems, in such depths of firmament that only after the lapse of ages
does their light reach this small ball which we call earth.
Be assured, Mr. President, I shall not tread on forbidden ground. To
the occasion and to your Association I shall be loyal; but let me be
loyal also to myself. Thank God, the great volume of the Past is always
open, with its lessons of warning and example. Nor will the assembly
which now does me the honor to listen to me be disposed to imitate
the pious pirates of the Caribbean Sea, who daily recited the Ten
Commandments, always omitting the injunction, "Thou shalt not steal."
I know well the sensitiveness of certain consciences. This is natural.
It is according to the decrees of Providence, that whosoever has been
engaged in meanness or wickedness should be pursued, wherever he moves,
by reproving voices, speaking to him from the solitudes of Nature,
from the darkness of night, from the hum of the street, and from every
book that he reads, like fiery tongues at Pentecost, until at last the
confession of Satan himself can alone express his wretchedness:--
"Me miserable! which way shall I fly?
Which way I fly is Hell: _myself am Hell!_"
GRANVILLE SHARP was born at Durham, in 1735. His family was of great
respectability and of ancient lineage. His grandfather was Archbishop
of York, confidential chaplain and counsellor of the renowned
Chancellor, Heneage Finch, Lord Nottingham. His less conspicuous
father was archdeacon and prebendary of the Church, who, out of his
ecclesiastical emoluments, knew how to dispense charity, while rearing
his numerous children to different pursuits. Of these, Granville
was the youngest son, and, though elder brothers were educated for
professional life, he was destined to trade, a portion being set apart
by his father to serve as his apprentice-fee in London. With this view
his back was turned upon the learned languages, and his instruction
was confined chiefly to writing and arithmetic; but at this time he
read and enjoyed all the plays of Shakespeare, perched in an apple-tree
of his father's orchard. When fifteen years old, he was bound as
apprentice to a Quaker linen-draper in London, and at this tender
age left his father's house. Of his apprenticeship he has given an
interesting glimpse.
"After I had served about three years of my apprenticeship, my
master, the Quaker, died, and I was turned over to a Presbyterian,
or rather, as he was more properly called, an Independent. I
afterward lived some time with an Irish Papist, and also with
another person, who, I believe, had no religion at all."[144]
[144] Memoirs, by Prince Hoare, (London, 1820,) p. 28.
Although always a devoted member of the Church of England, these
extraordinary experiences in early life placed him above the prejudice
of sect, and inspired a rule of conduct worthy of perpetual memory,
which he presents as follows.
"It has taught me to make a proper distinction between the
OPINIONS of men and their PERSONS. The former I can freely condemn,
without presuming to judge the individuals themselves. Thus freedom
of argument is preserved, as well as Christian charity, leaving
personal judgment to Him to whom alone it belongs."[145]
[145] Memoirs, p. 29.
Only two years before the enrolment of Granville Sharp among London
apprentices,--that class so famous in local history,--another person,
kindred in benevolence, and now in fame, Howard, the philanthropist, on
whose career Burke has cast the illumination of his genius, finished
service in the same place, as apprentice to a wholesale grocer. I do
not know that these two congenial natures--or yet another contemporary
of lowly fortunes, Robert Raikes, the inventor of Sunday schools--ever
encountered in the world. But they are joined in example,--and the
life of an apprentice, in all its humilities, seems radiant with their
presence, as with heavenly light. Perhaps among the apprentices of
Boston there may be yet a Granville Sharp or John Howard. And just in
proportion as the moral nature asserts its rightful supremacy here will
such a character be hailed of higher worth than the products of all the
mills of Lowell, backed by all the dividends and discounts of State
Street.
Shortly after the completion of his apprenticeship and entrance upon
business, Sharp lost both his parents, and very soon thereafter,
abandoning trade, obtained a subordinate appointment as supernumerary
clerk in the Ordnance Office, where, after six years' service,
he became simply "clerk in ordinary." Meanwhile, conscientiously
fulfilling this life of routine and labor, not unlike the toils of
Charles Lamb at the India House, he pursued, in moments saved from
business and snatched from sleep, a series of studies, which, though
undervalued by his modesty, the scholar may envy. That he might better
enjoy and vindicate that Book which he reverently accepted as the
rule of life, he first studied Greek and then Hebrew, obtaining such
command of both languages as to employ them skilfully in the field of
theological controversy. Music and French he studied also, and our own
English tongue too, on the pronunciation of which he wrote an excellent
essay.
These quiet pursuits were interrupted by an incident which belongs
to the romance of truth. An unhappy African, by the name of Jonathan
Strong, was brought as a slave from Barbadoes to London, where, after
brutal outrage, at which the soul shudders, inflicted by the person who
called himself master,--I regret to add lawyer also,--he was turned
adrift on the unpitying stones of the great metropolis, lame, blind,
and faint, with ague and fever, and without a home. In this plight,
while staggering along in quest of medical care, he was met by the Good
Samaritan, Granville Sharp, who, touched by his misfortunes, bound up
his wounds, gave him charitable assistance, placed him in a hospital,
and watched him through a protracted illness, until at last health and
strength returned, and he was able to commence service as freeman in a
respectable home. In this condition, after the lapse of two years, he
was recognized in the street by his old master, who at once determined
to entrap him, and to hold him as slave. By deceitful message the
victim was tempted to a public house, where he was shocked to encounter
his cruel claimant, who, without delay, seized and committed him to
prison. Here again was the Good Samaritan, Granville Sharp, who lost no
time in enjoining upon the keeper of the prison, at his peril, not to
deliver the African to any person whatever, and then promptly invoked
the intervention of the Mayor of London. At the hearing before this
magistrate, it appeared that the claimant had already undertaken, by
formal bill of sale, to convey the alleged slave to another person,
who, by an agent, was in attendance to take him on board a ship bound
for Jamaica. As soon as the case was stated, the Mayor gave judgment in
words worthy of imitation. "The lad," said this righteous judge, "has
not stolen anything, and is not guilty of any offence, and is therefore
at liberty to go away." The agent of the claimant, not disheartened,
seized him by the arm, and still claimed him as "property,"--yes,
even as property! Sharp, in ignorance of legal proceedings, was for a
moment perplexed, when the friendly voice of the coroner, who chanced
to be near, whispered, "Charge him"; on which hint, our philanthropist,
turning at once to the brazen-faced claimant, said, with justifiable
anger of manner, "Sir, I charge you, in the name of the King, with
an assault upon the person of Jonathan Strong, and all these are my
witnesses,"--when, to avoid immediate commitment, and the yawning cell
of the jail, he let go his piratical, slave-hunting grasp, "and all
bowed to the Lord Mayor and came away, Jonathan following Granville
Sharp, and no one daring to touch him."[146]
[146] Memoirs, pp. 32-35. Clarkson's History of the Abolition of
the African Slave-Trade, Vol. I. pp. 57-60.
But the end was not yet. By this accidental and disinterested act of
humanity Sharp was exposed at the same time to personal insult and
to a suit at law. The discomfited claimant--the same lawyer who had
originally abandoned the slave in the streets of London--called on him
"to demand gentlemanlike satisfaction"; to which the philanthropist
replied, that, as "he had studied the law so many years, he should want
no satisfaction that the law could give him." And he nobly redeemed
his word; for he applied himself at once to his defence against the
legal process instituted by the claimant for an alleged abstraction of
_property_. Here begins his greatness.
It is in collision with difficulty that the sparks of genuine character
appear. This simple-hearted man, now vindictively pursued, laid his
case before an eminent solicitor, who, after ample consideration with
learned counsel, among whom was the celebrated Sir James Eyre, did
not hesitate to assure him, that, under the British Constitution, he
could not be defended against the action. An opinion given in 1729,
by the Attorney-General and Solicitor-General of the time, Yorke and
Talbot,--two great names in the English law, and each afterwards
Lord Chancellor,--was adduced, declaring, under their respective
signatures, "that a slave, by coming from the West Indies to Great
Britain or Ireland, either with or without his master, _doth not_
become free," and "that the master may legally compel him to return
to the plantations"; and Lord Mansfield, the Chief Justice, was
reported as strenuously concurring in this opinion, to the odious
extent of delivering up fugitive slaves to their claimants. With these
authorities against him, and forsaken by professional defenders, Sharp
was not disheartened; but, though, according to his own striking
language, "totally unacquainted either with the practice of the
law or the foundations of it, having never in his life opened a
law-book except the Bible," he was inspired to depend on himself. An
unconquerable will, and instincts often profounder in their teaching
than any learning, were now his counsellors. For nearly two years,
during which the suit was still pending, he gave himself to intense
study of the British Constitution in all its bearings upon human
liberty. During these researches he was confirmed in his original
prepossessions, and aroused to undying hostility against Slavery, which
he plainly saw to be without any sanction in the Constitution. "_The
word_ SLAVES," he wrote, "_or anything that can justify the
enslaving of others, is not to be found there, God be thanked!_"[147]
And I, too, say, God be thanked!
[147] Memoirs, p. 38.
The result of these studies was embodied in a tract, entitled "A
Representation of the Injustice and Dangerous Tendency of tolerating
Slavery, or of admitting the least Claim of Private Property in the
Persons of Men in England." This was submitted to his counsel, one
of whom was the famous commentator, Sir William Blackstone, and, by
means of copies in manuscript, circulated among gentlemen of the bar,
until the lawyers on the other side were actually intimidated, and
the Slave-Hunter, failing to bring forward his action, was mulcted in
treble costs; and thus ended that persecution of our philanthropist. In
1769 this important tract was printed.
Thus far it was an individual case only which engaged his care.
Another soon followed, where, through his chivalrous humanity, the
intolerable wrongs of a woman kidnapped in London and transported as
slave to Barbadoes, were redressed,--so far as earthly decree could
go. Learning the infinite woe of Slavery, he was now aroused to broader
effort. Shocked by an advertisement in a London newspaper,--such as
often appeared in those days,--of "a black girl to be sold, of an
excellent temper and willing disposition,"--he at once protested to the
Chancellor, Lord Camden, against such things as a "notorious breach of
the laws of Nature, humanity, and equity, and also of the established
law, custom, and Constitution of England";[148] and in the same year,
May 15, 1769, by letter to the Archbishop of Canterbury, he solemnly
appealed against the Slave-Trade, and thus by many years heralded
the labors of Clarkson and Wilberforce. "I am myself convinced," he
said, "that nothing can thrive which is in any way concerned in that
unjust trade. I have known several instances which are strong proofs
to me of the judgments of God, even in this world, against such a
destructive and iniquitous traffic."[149] In these things he showed
not only his love of justice, but his personal independence. "Although
I am a _placeman_," he wrote on another occasion, "and indeed of a
very inferior rank, yet I look on myself to be perfectly independent,
because I have never yet been afraid to do and avow whatever I thought
just and right, without the consideration of consequences to myself:
for, indeed, I think it unworthy of a _man_ to be afraid of the world;
and it is a point with me never to conceal my sentiments on any subject
whatever, not even from my superiors in office, _when there is a
probability of answering any good purpose by it_."[150]
[148] Memoirs, p. 49.
[149] Ibid., p. 45.
[150] Ibid., p. 67.
Still again was his protecting presence enlisted to save a fellow-man
from bondage; and here it is necessary to note the new form of outrage.
A poor African, Thomas Lewis, once a slave, was residing quietly at
Chelsea, in the neighborhood of London, when he was suddenly seized by
his former master, who, with the aid of two ruffians, bought for the
fiendish purpose, dragged him on his back into the water, and thence
into a boat lying in the Thames, when, with legs tied, and mouth
gagged by a stick, he was rowed down to a ship bound for Jamaica,
under a commander previously enlisted in the conspiracy, to be sold
for a slave on arrival in that island. But this diabolical act, though
warily contrived, did not escape notice. The cries of the victim, on
his way to the boat, reached the servants of a neighboring mansion,
who witnessed the deadly struggle, but did not venture a rescue.
Their mistress, a retired widow, mother of the eminent naturalist and
traveller, Sir Joseph Banks, on learning what had passed, instantly
put forth her womanly exertion. Without the hesitation of her sex,
she hurried to Granville Sharp, now known for knightly zeal to succor
the distressed, laid before him the terrible story, and insisted upon
vindicating the freedom of the stranger at her own expense. All honor
to this woman! A simple warrant, first obtained by Sharp, was scouted
by the captain, whose victim, bathed in tears, was already chained to
the mast. The great writ of _Habeas Corpus_ was next invoked; and the
ship, which had contumaciously proceeded on its way, was boarded in the
Downs, happily within British jurisdiction, by a faithful officer, who,
in the name of the King of England, unbound the African, and took him
back to freedom.
A complaint was now presented against the kidnappers, who were at
once indicted by the grand jury. The cause was removed to the King's
Bench, and on the 20th of February, 1771, brought into court before
Lord Mansfield. The defence set up, that the victim was their slave,
and therefore property to be rightfully seized. Here the question was
distinctly presented, whether any such property was recognized by
the British Constitution? The transcendent magistrate who presided
on the occasion saw the magnitude of the issue, and sought to avoid
its formal determination by presenting the subordinate point, whether
the claimant, supposing such property recognized, was able to prove
the man to be his? The kidnappers were found guilty; but judgment
against them was waived, on the recommendation of Lord Mansfield, who,
be it observed, at every stage, shrank from any act by which Slavery
in England should be annulled, and on this occasion avowed his "hope
that the question never would be finally discussed." Sharp was justly
indignant at this craven conduct, which, with all gentleness of manner,
but with perfect firmness, he did not hesitate to arraign as open
contempt of the true principles of the Constitution.[151]
[151] Memoirs, pp. 52-61.
Alas! it is the natural influence of Slavery to make men hard.
Gorgon-like, it turns to stone. Among the judicial magistrates of the
time, Lord Mansfield was not alone. His companion in contemporary
fame, Blackstone, shared the petrifaction. The first edition of his
incomparable Commentaries openly declared, that a slave, on coming
to England, became at once a freeman; but, in a subsequent edition,
after the question had been practically presented by Granville Sharp,
the text was pusillanimously altered to an abandonment of this great
constitutional principle; and our intrepid philanthropist hung his
head with shame and anxiety, while the counsel for the Slave-Hunters
triumphantly invoked this tergiversation as new authority against
Freedom.[152]
[152] Memoirs, pp. 91, 92, note. The text of the first edition
(1765), as quoted by Sharp's biographer, Hoare, was as follows:
"And this spirit of liberty is so deeply implanted in our
Constitution, and rooted even in our very soil, that a Slave, or a
Negro, the moment he lands in England, falls under the protection
of the laws, and, with regard to all national rights, becomes _eo
instanti_ a freeman." As altered, the latter part was found to read
thus: " ... a negro, the moment he lands in England, falls under
the protection of the laws, and so far becomes a freeman; though
the master's right to his service may _possibly_ still continue."
Hoare remarks, that he finds this reading in the fifth edition,
1773. It appears also in an edition printed at Philadelphia so
early as 1771. And thus the text was finally left by the author,
and so remains. In the third edition, printed at Oxford in 1768,
for "_possibly_" in the last clause we have the word "probably." Of
this prior reading Hoare makes no mention.
The day was at hand when the great philanthropist was to be vindicated,
even by the lips of the great magistrate. The Slavery question could
not be suppressed: the Chief Justice of England could not suppress it.
Drive out Nature with a pitchfork, and still she will return. Only
a few months elapsed, when a memorable case arose, which presented
the question distinctly for judgment. A negro, James Somerset, whose
name, in the establishment of an immortal principle, will help to
keep alive the appellation of the ducal house to which it originally
belonged,--was detained in irons on board a ship lying in the Thames,
and bound for Jamaica. On application to Lord Mansfield in his behalf,
supported by affidavits, December 3, 1771, a writ of _Habeas Corpus_
was directed to the captain of the ship, commanding him to return
the body of Somerset into court, with the cause of his detention. In
course of time, though somewhat tardily, the body was produced, and
for cause of detention it was assigned, that he was the property of
Charles Stewart, Esq., _of Virginia_, who had held him in Virginia
as a slave,--that, when brought as such to London, he ran away from
the service of his master, but was recovered, and finally delivered on
board the ship to be carried to Jamaica, there to be sold as the slave
and property of the _Virginia gentleman_.[153] As no facts were in
issue here, the whole cause hinged on the Constitutionality of Slavery
in England; and the great question which the Chief Justice had sought
to avoid, and on which the Commentator had changed sides, was once
again to be heard.
[153] Since this Address, private papers have seen the light, by
which it appears, that the claimant was cashier and paymaster of
customs in North America, and for some years previous to this
important case _resided in Boston_, where Somerset was known.
Through all the arguments he is spoken of as from Virginia, and
reference is constantly made to the laws of Virginia; nor is
this mistake astonishing, when it is understood that an orator
in Parliament once spoke of the "Island of Virginia," and nobody
corrected him.--Mass. Hist. Soc. Proceedings for 1863-64, p. 324:
_Villenage_, by Emory Washburn.
That the proceedings might have a solemnity in some degree
corresponding to their importance, the cause was brought by Lord
Mansfield before the King's Bench, where it was continued from time to
time, according to the convenience of counsel and the court, running
through months, and occupying different days in January, February, and
May, down to the 22d June, 1772, when judgment was finally delivered.
During all this period, Somerset, having recognized with sureties for
his appearance in court, was left at large. To Granville Sharp he had
repaired at once, and by him was kindly welcomed and effectually aided.
Under the advice of this humble clerk, counsel learned in the law were
retained, who were instructed by him in the grounds of defence. At his
expense, too, out of his small means, the proceedings were maintained.
"Money," he nobly said, "has no value but when it is well spent; and
I am thoroughly convinced that no part of my little pittance of ready
money can ever be better bestowed than in an honest endeavor to crush a
growing oppression, which is not only shocking to humanity, but in time
must prove even dangerous to the community."[154] On the other side the
costs were defrayed by a subscription among the merchants. Hear this,
merchants of Boston, justly jealous of the good name of your calling,
and hang your heads with shame!
[154] Memoirs, p. 57.
To the glory of the English bar, the eminent counsel for the slave
declined all fee for their valuable and protracted services; and here
let me pause for one moment to pay them an unaffected tribute. They
were five in number: Mr. Serjeant Davy, who opened the cause with
the proposition, "that no man at this day _is_ or _can be_ a slave
in England,"--Mr. Serjeant Glynn,--Mr. Mansfield, afterward Chief
Justice of the Common Pleas,--Mr. Hargrave, and Mr. Alleyne,--each
of whom was patiently heard by the Court at length. The argument of
Mr. Hargrave, who early volunteered his great learning in the case,
is one of the masterpieces of the bar. This was his first appearance
in court; but it is well that Liberty on that day had such support.
For all these gallant lawyers, champions of the Right, there is honor
ever increasing, which the soul spontaneously offers, while it turns
in sorrow from the counsel, only two in number, who allowed themselves
to be enlisted on the side of Slavery. I know well that in Westminster
Hall there are professional usages--which happily do not prevail in our
country, where every such service depends purely on _contract_--by
which a barrister thinks himself constrained to assume any cause
properly presented to him. If this service depended on contract there,
as with us, the sarcasm of Ben Jonson would be strictly applicable:--
"This fellow,
For six sols more, would plead against his Maker."[155]
[155] The Fox, Act IV. sc. 2.
But I undertake to affirm that no usage, professional or social,
can give any apology for joining the pack of the Slave-Hunter. Mr.
Dunning, one of the persons in this predicament, showed that he acted
against his better nature.[156] The first words in his argument were:
"It is incumbent on me to justify the detainer of the negro." Pray,
why incumbent on him? He was then careful to show that he did not
maintain any absolute property in him; and he proceeded to say, among
other things, that it was his misfortune to address an audience, the
greater part of which, he feared, was prejudiced the other way,--that,
for himself, he would not be understood to intimate a wish in favor
of Slavery, but that he was bound in duty to maintain those arguments
most useful to the claimant, so far as consistent with the truth; and
he concluded with this conscience-stricken appeal: "I hope, therefore,
I shall not suffer in the opinion of those whose honest passions are
fired at the name of Slavery; I hope I have not transgressed my duty
to Humanity."[157] Clearly the lawyer had transgressed his duty to
Humanity. No man can rightfully enforce a principle which violates
human nature; nor can any subtilty of dialectics, any extent of
erudition, or any grandeur of intellect sustain him. Notwithstanding
the character for liberal principles which John Dunning acquired,
and which breathes in his sensitive excuses,--notwithstanding
his double fame at once in Westminster Hall and Saint Stephen's
Chapel,--notwithstanding the peerage which he won,--this odious service
rendered to a Slave-Hunter, calling himself a Virginia gentleman, cries
in judgment against him, and will continue to cry, as time advances.
(Do not start, Mr. President,--I am narrating occurrences in another
hemisphere and another century.) As well undertake a Slave-Hunt in
the deserts of Africa as in the streets of London. As well pursue the
fugitive with the hired whip of the overseer as with the hired argument
of the lawyer. As well chase him with the baying of the blood-hound
as with the tongue of the advocate. It is the lawyer's clear duty to
uphold _human rights_, whether in the loftiest or the lowliest; and
when he undertakes to uphold a wrong outrageous as Slavery, his proper
function is so far reversed that he can be aptly described only in the
phrase of the Roman Church, _Advocatus Diaboli_, the Devil's Advocate.
[156] A private letter from the claimant to James Murray, Esq., of
Boston, dated London, June 15, 1772, carries us back to the times,
and even to the court-room. "I am told," writes the claimant, "that
some young counsel flourished away on the side of liberty, and
acquired great honor. Dunning was dull and languid, and would have
made a much better figure on that side also." Of course he would.
After speaking of the "load of abuse thrown on L--d M----, for
hesitating to pronounce judgment in favor of freedom," the claimant
says, "Dunning has come in also for a pretty good share for taking
the wrong side." (Mass. Hist. Soc. Proceedings for 1863-64, pp.
323, 324.) Abolitionists had begun to be critical.
[157] Howell's State Trials, XX. 71-76.
Passing from counsel to court, we find occasion for gratitude and
sorrow. The three judges, Aston, Willes, and Ashhurst, who sat at the
side of Lord Mansfield, were silent through the whole proceedings,
overawed, perhaps, by his commanding authority, so that he alone seems
to be present. Of large intellect, and extensive studies, running
into all regions of learning,--with a silver-tongued voice, and an
amenity of manner which gave constant charm to his presence,--with
unsurpassed professional and political experience combined,--early
companion of Pope, and early competitor of Pitt,--having already once
refused the post of Prime Minister, and three times refused the post
of Chancellor,--he stood forth, at the period when the poor slave was
brought before him, an acknowledged master of jurisprudence, and, take
him for all in all, the most finished magistrate England had then
produced. But his character had one fatal defect, too common on the
bench. He lacked _moral firmness_,--happily not lacking in Granville
Sharp. Still more, he was not naturally on the side of Liberty, as
becomes a great judge, but always, by blood and instinct, on the side
of prerogative and power,--an offence for which he was arraigned by
his contemporary, Junius, and for which posterity will hold him to
strict account. But his luminous mind, prompt to perceive the force
of principles, could not resist the array of argument now marshalled
for Freedom. He saw clearly that a system like Slavery could not find
home under the British Constitution, _which nowhere mentions the name
Slave_; and yet he shrank from the sublime conclusion. More than once
he coquetted with the merchants, who had the case so much at heart,
and twice ignobly suggested that the claimant might avoid the decision
of the great question, fraught with Freedom or Slavery to multitudes,
simply by manumitting the individual. And when at last the case could
not be arrested by any device, or be longer postponed,--when judgment
was inevitable,--he came to the work, not warmly or generously, but in
trembling obedience to the Truth, which waited to be declared.
On other occasions, of purely commercial character, his judgments
are more learned and elaborate, besides being reported with more
completeness and care; but no judgment of equal significance ever fell
from the great Oracle. From various sources I have sought its precise
import.[158] It is remarkable for several rules, which it clearly
enunciates, and which, though often assaulted, still stand as reason
and as law. Of these, the first is expressed in these simple words: "If
the parties will have judgment, _fiat justitia, ruat coelum_: let
justice be done, whatever be the consequence." The Latin phrase which
here plays such a prominent part, though of classical stamp, cannot be
traced to any classical origin, and it has even been asserted that it
was freshly coined by Lord Mansfield on this occasion, worthy of such
commanding truth in such commanding phrase. But it is of older date,
and from another mint,--though it is not too much to say, that it took
its currency and authority from him. Coming from such a conservative
magistrate, it is of peculiar importance. With little expansion, it
says openly: To every man his natural rights; justice to all, without
distinction of person, without abridgment, and without compromise. Let
justice be done, though it drags down the pillars of the sky. Thus
spoke the Chief Justice of England.[159]
[158] It is strange that there should be no single satisfactory
report of this memorable judgment. That usually quoted from
Howell's State Trials, Vol. XX. coll. 80-82, was copied from
Lofft, a reporter generally avoided as authority. There is another
report in Hoare's Memoirs of Sharp, pp. 89-91; also another in
Campbell's Lives of the Chief Justices, Vol. II. p. 419; and still
another, and in some respects the best, in the Appendix (No. 8) to
a tract published by Sharp in 1776, entitled "The Just Limitation
of Slavery in the Laws of God, compared with the Unbounded Claims
of the African Traders and British American Slaveholders." It is
considered and quoted in other contemporary tracts.
[159] A British writer, giving an account of the Somerset case,
says of this maxim, that "it has found its way into use as a
classical expression, and, as no one has been able to find it in
any Latin author, it is supposed to have been of Lord Mansfield's
own coining." (Chambers's Edinburgh Journal, July 31, 1852, N. S.
Vol. XVIII. p. 71: _Slaves in Britain_.) This is a mistake. The
precise phrase will be found in Ward's "Simple Cobler of Aggawamm
in America," written in 1615, and first printed in 1647,--"It
is lesse to say, _Statuatur veritas, ruat Regnum_, than _Fiat
justitia, ruat Coelum_" (p. 14); but its origin, in substance,
if not in form, is earlier. There is little doubt that it does not
occur in any Latin author. Its Latinity is good, and might belong
to the classical period. The latter clause, _ruat coelum_, has
classical authority, as in the passage of Terence, showing that
it was a common saying in his time, "Quid si redeo ad illos _qui
aiunt_, Quid si nunc _coelum ruat_?" (Heauton., Act. IV. sc. 3.)
The idea is also Roman. On the European continent, and especially
in Germany, the maxim has another form, which is common,--_Fiat
justitia, pereat mundus_. Binder, in his _Novus Thesaurus Adagiorum
Latinorum_, (Stuttgart, 1861,) cites it in this form as _Regula
Juris_, explained as "a designation for the maxims, taken from the
_Corpus Juris_ and the works of the different ancient civilians,
which have become proverbial." In the same authority is the
hexameter verse, _Fiat justitia, pereat licet integer orbis_, from
Johannis Leibi _Studentica_ (Coburg, 1627). In England the maxim
was current in other forms. As early as February 26, 1624-5, in
a letter to the English ambassador at Holland, alluding to "the
business of Amboyne," we meet _Fiat justitia et ruat mundus_.
(Birch's Court and Times of James I., Vol. II. p. 500.) In a
speech in the House of Commons, December 22, 1640, against the
judges who pronounced in favor of ship-money, an orator says:
"If ever any nation might justifiably, we certainly may now, now
most properly, most seasonably, cry out, and cry aloud, _Vel
sacra regnet justitia vel ruat coelum_." And he concludes with
a motion, "That a special committee may be appointed to examine
the whole carriage of that extrajudicial judgment, ... and, upon
report thereof, to draw up a charge against the guilty; and then
_Lex currat, fiat justitia_. (Parl. Hist., 2d ed., London, 1763,
Vol. IX. p. 192.) In the answer of the Duke of Richmond (January
31, 1641-2) to the charge of the Commons, it is said: "_Magna est
veritas et prevalebit_. I wish it may do so in what concerns me.
_Regnet justitia et ruat coelum._" (Parl. Hist., Vol. X. p. 254.
Also, Howell's State Trials, Vol. IV. col. 116.) The first clause
of the maxim is an old law phrase, found in Law Dictionaries, and
often repeated. A letter, dated London, May 4, 1621, relating the
fine and degradation of Lord Bacon, concludes, _Fiat justitia_.
(Birch's James I., Vol. II. p. 252.) Charles I., in a letter to the
Lords, dated May 11, 1641, interceding for Strafford, said: "But
if no less than his life can satisfy my people, I must say, _Fiat
justitia_." (Parl. Hist. Vol. IX. p. 316. Howell's State Trials,
Vol. III. col. 1520.) If not classical in authority, the maxim is
not without interest from association with great events of English
history, while it is a perpetual injunction to justice. Shakespeare
gives expression to similar truth, when he says, "Be just and fear
not."
And still another rule, hardly less important or less commanding, was
clearly proclaimed in these penetrating words: "I care not for the
supposed _dicta_ of judges, however eminent, _if they be contrary to
all principle_"; or, in other language, In vain do you invoke great
names in the law, even the names of Hardwicke and Talbot, and my own
learned associate, Blackstone, in behalf of an institution which defies
reason and outrages justice. Human precedent is powerless against
immutable principle. Thus again spoke the Chief Justice of England.
Braced by these rules, the next stages were logically easy. And here
he uttered words which are like a buttress to Freedom. He declared,
that, tracing Slavery to _natural principles_, it can never be
supported: that is to say, Slavery is a violation of the great law
of Nature, established by God himself, coextensive in space and time
with the Universe. Again he proclaimed, Slavery cannot stand on any
reason, moral or political, but only by virtue of _positive law_; and
he clinched his conclusion by the unquestionable truth, that, in a
matter so _odious_, the evidence and authority of this law must be
taken strictly: in other words, a wrong like Slavery, which finds no
support in natural law or in reason, can be maintained, if at all, only
by some dread mandate, from some sovereign authority, irresistibly
clear and incapable of a double sense, which declares in precise and
unequivocal terms, that men guilty of no crime may be held as _slaves_,
and be submitted to the bargains of the market-place, the hammer of
the auctioneer, and the hunt of the blood-hound. Clearly no such
mandate could be shown in England. After asserting the obvious truth,
that rights cannot depend on any discrimination of color, and thus
discarding the profane assumptions of race, while he quoted apt Roman
authority,--
"Quamvis ille niger, quamvis tu candidus esses,"
the Chief Justice concluded, "And therefore let the negro be
discharged." Such was this immortal judgment. I catch its last words,
already resounding through the ages, with the voice of deliverance to
an enslaved people.
From Westminster Hall, where he had been held so long in painful
suspense, the happy freedman, with glad tidings of deliverance, hurried
to his angel protector, Granville Sharp, who, though organizing and
sustaining these proceedings, was restrained by unobtrusive modesty
from all attendance in court, that he might in no wise irritate the
Chief Justice, unfortunately prepossessed against his endeavor. And
thus closed the most remarkable constitutional battle in English
history, fought by a simple clerk, once apprentice to a linen-draper,
against the merchants of London, backed by great names in law, and by
the most exalted magistrate of the age. Like the stripling David, he
went forth to the contest with only a sling and a few smooth stones
from the brook; and Goliath fell prostrate. Not merely the individual
slave, but upwards of fourteen thousand human beings,--four times as
many slaves as could be counted throughout New England at the adoption
of the National Constitution,--rejoiced in emancipation; a slave-hunt
was made impossible in the streets of London; and a great principle was
set up which will stand forever as a Landmark of Freedom.
This triumph, hailed at the time by the friends of human happiness
with exultation and delight, was commemorated by poetry and eloquence.
It prompted Cowper, in his "Task," to these touching verses:--
"Slaves cannot breathe in England; if their lungs
Receive our air, that moment they are free:
They touch our country, and their shackles fall.
That's noble, and bespeaks a nation proud
And jealous of the blessing. Spread it, then,
And let it circulate through every vein
Of all your Empire, that, where Britain's power
Is felt, mankind may feel her mercy too."
It inspired Curran to a burst of eloquence, grand, and familiar to all
who hear me.
"I speak in the spirit of the British law, which makes Liberty
commensurate with and inseparable from British soil,--which
proclaims even to the stranger and sojourner, the moment he sets
his foot upon British earth, that the ground on which he treads
is holy and consecrated by the genius of Universal Emancipation.
No matter in what language his doom may have been pronounced,--no
matter what complexion, incompatible with Freedom, an Indian or an
African sun may have burnt upon him,--no matter in what disastrous
battle his liberty may have been cloven down,--no matter with what
solemnities he may have been devoted upon the altar of Slavery:
the first moment he touches the sacred soil of Britain, the altar
and the god sink together in the dust, his soul walks abroad in
her own majesty, his body swells beyond the measure of his chains
that burst from around him, and he stands redeemed, regenerated,
and disenthralled by the irresistible genius of Universal
Emancipation."[160]
[160] Defence of Archibald Hamilton Rowan, January 29, 1794:
Speeches, ed. Davis, (London, 1847,) p. 182.
It was this triumph which lifted Brougham, in our own day, to one
of those vivid utterances by which truth is flashed upon unwilling
souls.
"Tell me not of rights,--talk not of the property of the planter
in his slaves. I deny the right,--I acknowledge not the property.
The principles, the feelings of our common nature rise in rebellion
against it. Be the appeal made to the understanding or to the
heart, the sentence is the same that rejects it. In vain you tell
me of laws that sanction such a claim. There is a law above all the
enactments of human codes,--the same throughout the world, the same
in all times: ... it is the law written on the heart of man by the
finger of his Maker; and by that law, unchangeable and eternal,
while men despise fraud and loathe rapine and abhor blood, they
will reject with indignation the wild and guilty fantasy that man
can hold property in man."[161]
[161] Speech on Negro Slavery, July 13, 1830: Works, Vol. X. p. 216.
Granville Sharp did not rest from labor. The Humanities are not
solitary. Where one is found, there will others be also. The advocate
of the slave in London was naturally the advocate of liberty for all
everywhere. In this spirit he signalized himself against that scandal
of the English law, the hateful system of Impressment, while he
encountered no less a person than Dr. Johnson, whom he did not hesitate
to charge with "plausible sophistry and important self-sufficiency, as
if he supposed that the mere sound of words was capable of altering
the nature of things";[162] also, against the claims of England in
the controversy with her American colonies, zealously maintaining our
cause in a publication, of which it is said seven thousand copies were
printed in Boston[163]; also, in establishing a colony of liberated
slaves at Sierra Leone, on the coast of Africa, predecessor of our
more successful Liberia; and, finally, as leader, not only against
the Slave-Trade, but also against Slavery itself, so that he was
hailed "Father of the cause in England," and was placed at the head of
the illustrious committee by which it was conducted, though his rare
modesty prevented him from taking the chair to which he was unanimously
elected. But no modesty could check his valiant soul in conflict with
wrong. Not content with his warfare in court, he addressed Lord North,
the Prime Minister, warning him in the most earnest manner to take
measures for the immediate abolition of Slavery in all the British
dominions, as utterly irreconcilable with the principles of the British
Constitution and the established religion of the land, and solemnly
declaring that "it were better for the nation that their American
dominions had never existed, or even that they had sunk in the sea,
than that the kingdom of Great Britain should be loaded with the horrid
guilt of tolerating such abominable wickedness."[164] With similar
boldness, in an elaborate work, he arraigned the doctrine of _Passive
Obedience_, advanced now in favor of judicial tribunals, as once in
favor of kings, and he openly affirmed, as unquestionable truth, that
every public ordinance contrary to reason, justice, natural equity, or
the written word of God, must be promptly rejected.[165] Other things,
too, I might mention; but I am admonished that I must draw to a close.
Pardon me, if I touch yet one other shining point in his career.
[162] Memoirs, p. 169.
[163] A Declaration of the People's Natural Right to a Share in the
Legislature (London, 1774). Memoirs, pp. 172, 173.
[164] Memoirs, pp. 78-80.
[165] The Law of Passive Obedience, p. 82, note.
The news of the Battle of Bunker Hill, which reached London at the end
of July, 1775, found him at his desk, still a clerk in the Ordnance
Office, and by position obliged to participate in the military
preparations now required. He was unwilling to be concerned, even
thus distantly, in what he regarded as "that unnatural business"; and
though a close attendance on his office for seventeen years, to the
neglect of all other worldly opportunities, made it important to him
as a livelihood, yet he resolved to sacrifice it. Out of regard to his
great worth and the respect he had won, he was indulged at first with
leave of absence; but when hostilities in the Colonies advanced beyond
any prospect of speedy accommodation, then he vacated his office. This
man of charity, who lived for others, was now left without support.
But he was happy in the testimony he had borne to his principles: nor
was he alone. Lord Effingham, and also the eldest son of Lord Chatham,
threw up commissions in the army rather than serve on the side of
injustice. They were all clearly right. It is vain to suppose that any
human ordinance, whether from King, Parliament, or Judicial Tribunal,
can vary our moral responsibilities, or release us from obedience to
God. And since no man can stand between us and God, it belongs to each
conscience for itself to determine its final obligations, and where
pressed to an unrighteous act,--as if to slay, or, what is equally bad,
to enslave, a fellow-man charged with no crime,--then at every peril to
disobey the mandate. The example of Granville Sharp on this occasion is
not the least among the large legacies of wisdom and fidelity which he
has left to mankind.
All these are especially commended to us, as citizens of the United
States, by the early and constant interest which he manifested in our
country. By pen and personal intercession he vindicated our political
rights,--and when independence was secured, his sympathies did not
abate, as witness his correspondence with Adams, Jay, Franklin, and
America's earliest Abolitionist, Anthony Benezet. His name became an
authority here,--at the South as well as the North,--and the colleges,
including Brown University, Harvard University, and William and
Mary, of slaveholding Virginia, vied with each other in conferring
upon him their highest academic honors. But the growing numbers of
the Episcopal Church had occasion for special gratitude, only to be
repaid by loyal regard for his character and life. On separation
from the mother country, they were left without Episcopal head. To
repair this deprivation, Granville Sharp, in published writings
extensively circulated, proposed the election of bishops by the
churches, and their subsequent consecration in England, as congenial
to the usage of early Christians, and, after much correspondence and
many impediments, enjoyed the satisfaction of presenting two bishops
elect from America--one of whom was the exemplary Bishop White, of
Philadelphia--to the Archbishop of Canterbury, by whom the Christian
rite of laying on of hands was performed; and thus was the English
Episcopacy communicated to this continent. I know not that the powerful
religious denomination befriended by him in its infancy has ever
sympathized with the great effort by which his name is exalted; but
they should at least repel the weak imputation, so often levelled
against all who are steadfast against Slavery, that their benefactor
was "a man of one idea."
* * * * *
Mr. President, I have striven to keep within the open field of history
and philanthropy, on neutral ground; but you would not forgive me, if,
on this occasion, I forbore to adduce the most interesting testimony
of Granville Sharp touching that much debated clause in our National
Constitution which has been stretched to the surrender of fugitive
slaves. Anterior to the Constitution, even during colonial days, he
wrote, that any law which orders the arrest or rendition of fugitive
slaves, or in any way tends to deprive them of legal protection, is
to be deemed "a corruption, null and void in itself"; and at a later
period, in an elaborate communication to the Abolition Society of
Maryland,--mark, if you please, of slaveholding Maryland,--which was
printed and circulated by this society, as "the production of a great
and respectable name," calculated to relieve persons "embarrassed by a
conflict between their principles and the obligations imposed by unwise
and perhaps unconstitutional laws," he exposed the utter "illegality"
of Slavery, and especially of "taking up slaves that had escaped from
their masters."[166] But, in a remarkable letter to Franklin, dated
January 10, 1788,--a short time after the Constitution had left the
hands of the Convention, and some months before its final adoption
by the people,--and which has never before been adduced, even in the
thorough discussion of this question, the undaunted champion, who had
not shrunk from conflict with the Chief Justice of England, openly
arraigned the National Constitution. Here are his words.
"Having been always zealous for the honor of free governments, I
am the more sincerely grieved to see the new Federal Constitution
stained by the insertion of two most exceptionable clauses: the
one in direct opposition to a most humane article, ordained by
the first American Congress to be perpetually observed" (referring
to the sufferance of the slave-trade till 1808); "and the other,
in equal opposition to an express command of the Almighty, 'not
to deliver up the servant that has escaped from his master,' &c.
_Both clauses, however_, (the 9th section of the 1st article, and
the latter part of the 2d section of the 3d [4th] article,) _are so
clearly null and void by their iniquity, that it would be even a
CRIME to regard them as law_."[167]
[166] Letter to the Maryland Society for Promoting the Abolition of
Slavery, (Baltimore, 1793,) pp. 2, 3.
[167] Memoirs, p. 253.
It does not appear that Franklin ever answered this letter, in the
short term of life which remained to him. But, in justice to his
great name, I desire to express my conviction here, of course without
argument, that this patriot philosopher never attributed to the clause,
which simply provides for the surrender of fugitives from "service or
labor," without the mention of _slaves_, any such meaning as it has
since been made to assume. And Granville Sharp himself, in putting upon
it the interpretation he did, forgot the judgment he had extorted from
Lord Mansfield, affirming that any law out of which Slavery is derived
must be construed _strictly_; and, stranger still, he forgot his own
unanswerable argument, _that the word SLAVES is nowhere to be
found in the British Constitution_. The question under the fugitive
clause of our Constitution is identical with that happily settled in
England.
* * * * *
In works and contemplations like these was the life of our
philanthropist prolonged to a generous old age, cheered by the esteem
of the good, informed by study, and elevated by an enthusiastic faith,
which always saw the world as the footstool of God; and when, at last,
in 1813, bending under the burden of seventy-seven winters, he gently
sank away, it was felt that a man had died in whom was the greatness of
goodness. Among the mourners at his grave stood William Wilberforce;
and over the earthly remains of this child of lowly beginnings were now
dropped the tears of a royal duke. The portals of that great Temple of
Honor, where are treasured England's glories, swung open at the name of
England's earliest Abolitionist. A simple tablet, from the chisel of
Chantrey, representing an African slave on his knees in supplication,
and also the lion and the lamb lying down together, with a suitable
inscription, was placed in the Poet's Corner of Westminster Abbey, in
close companionship with those stones which bear the names of Chaucer,
Spenser, Shakespeare, Milton, Dryden, Goldsmith, Gray. As the Muses
themselves did not disdain to watch over the grave of one who had done
well on earth, so do the poets of England keep watch over the monument
of Granville Sharp. Nor is his place in that goodly company without
poetical title. The poet is simply _creator_; and he who was inspired
to create freemen out of slaves was poet of the loftiest style. Not in
the sacred Abbey only was our philanthropist commemorated. The city of
London, centre of those Slave-Hunting merchants over whom his great
triumph was won, now gratefully claimed part of his renown. The marble
bust of England's earliest Abolitionist was installed at Guildhall,
home of metropolitan justice, pomp, and hospitality, in the precise
spot where once had stood the bust of Nelson, England's greatest
Admiral, and beneath it was carved a simple tribute, of more perennial
worth than all the trophies of Trafalgar:--