all the rough treatment ordinarily given to boxes of merchandise; for,
notwithstanding the admonition of “_this side up with care_,” the box
was tumbled over, so that he was sometimes on his head; yes, at one
time, for nearly two hours, as it seemed to him, _on his head_, and
momentarily expecting that life would become extinct, from the terrible
pressure of blood that poured upon his brain. Twenty-seven hours was
this man subjected to this imminent peril, that he might, for one
moment, at least, breathe the air of liberty. Does not such a man
deserve to be free? Is there a heart here, that does not bid him
welcome? Is there a heart here, that can doubt that there must be in him
not merely the heart and soul of a deteriorated man--a degraded,
inferior man--but the heart and soul of a noble man? Not a _nobleman_,
sir, but a NOBLE MAN? Who can doubt it?
* * * * *
REPRESENTATION OF THE BOX,
In which a fellow mortal travelled a long journey, in quest of those
rights which the piety and republicanism of this country denied to him,
the right to possess.
[Illustration:
_Philadelphia
Pa.
Right side up with care_
3 feet 1 inch long, 2 feet wide, 2 feet 6 inches high.]
As long as the temples of humanity contain a single worshipper, whose
heart beats in unison with that of the God of the universe; must a
religion and a government which could inflict such misery upon a human
being, be execrated and fled from, as a bright angel, abhors and flees
from the touch of hideous sin.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] HUGO GROTIUS was, in the year 1620, sent from prison,
confined in a small chest of drawers, by the affectionate hands of a
faithful wife, but he was taken by _friends_ on horseback and carried
to the house of a friend, without undergoing much suffering or running
the terrible risk which our friend ran.
[2] The reader may be disposed to doubt the truth of the above
assertion, but I once asked a girl in Ky., whose mistress was a
Methodist church member, if she could tell me “who Jesus Christ was?”
“Yes,” said she, “he is the bad man.”
C. S.
[3] In proof of this, I would state that during my residence at the
South, a whole town was once thrown into an uproar by my entering a
slave hut, about Christmas time, and talking and praying with the
inmates about an hour. I was told that it would not be safe for me to
remain in the town over night.
C. S.
[4] While at the South, a gentleman came one day to a friend of mine,
and in a very excited manner said to him, “Why, are you not afraid
to have that man about you? Do you not fear that your house will be
burned? I cannot sleep nights lest the slaves should rise and burn, all
before them.”
C. S.
[5] While in Kentucky I knew of a case where a preacher punished a
female slave in this way, and his wife stood by, throwing cold water
into the slave’s face, to keep her from fainting. In endeavoring to
escape afterwards, the poor creature became faint from loss of blood,
and her body was found partly devoured by the buzzards.
C. S.
[6] Will not this be considered a sufficient exhibition of that
_charity_, which pro-slavery divines exhort abolitionists to practise?
C. S.
[7] Reader, do you wonder at abolitionists calling such churches the
brotherhood of thieves?
C. S.
[8] I would here state, that Mr. Brown is endeavoring to raise money to
purchase his family. Twelve hundred dollars being the sum demanded for
them. Any person wishing to assist him in this laudable purpose, can
enclose donations to him, directing No. 21 Cornhill, Boston.
[9] Reader, smile not at the above idea, for if there is a God of love,
we must believe that he suggests steps to those who apply to him in
times of trouble, by which they can be delivered from their difficulty.
I firmly believe this doctrine, and know it to be true from frequent
experience.
C. S.
[10] For a corroboration of this part of Mr. Brown’s narrative, the
reader is referred to the close of this book.