THE RETROSPECT.
Who has not, ere this, declared slavery a vice? We have seen that the
Methodist Episcopal Church in 1796 not only warned its members against
the vice of holding their fellow-men, their brethren, as slaves, but
required a guarantee from applicants for membership that, if owners of
slaves, they would manumit them at the earliest possible moment; if not,
that they would not engage in it while in the communion of the Church;
that if “any among us do not wish to abide by this rule, they shall have
the privilege quietly to withdraw.” Such a spirit was in keeping with
the Ten Commandments and the Sermon on the Mount. Not only this, but any
member of the Methodist Episcopal Church who should sell a human being
for any reason, was to be expelled. In cases where members of the Church
bought colored people, even though done for the purpose of keeping
husband and wife together, or from being separated, it was stipulated
that such should only be held in servitude a sufficient time to pay back
to the purchaser the price paid for him or her. This plan, in itself,
was not only a wise business transaction for the liberation of slaves,
but humane and just; creditable to the Church and honorable in the
purchaser when done willingly, as well as elevating in its very nature,
and calculated to put the slave under perpetual gratitude to his
liberator. The plan was unique, and if it had been observed in every
such case throughout the length and breadth of this fair land, our
American civilization would have become the ideal of the world. If our
government had but consented to adopt some such measure looking to the
gradual liberation of the slaves, is it not rational to believe the late
Civil War could have been averted, and many precious lives and much
property been saved? But the American people apparently did not view it
in that light. It came at last, as of old, the arbitrary Pharaoh rushed
on pursuing his slaves, notwithstanding the terrible warnings given,
until ingulfed in the boisterous waves of the mighty Red Sea. How true
is it that “the wicked pass on, and are punished!” No more fearful
punishment ever came upon any nation than came upon ours because of
slavery. Although the above plan was adopted by the Church, it declared
that if a Methodist person purchased a slave woman, all her
children—whether her husband was a free man or not—were to be free from
birth. Thus the Church sought at once to begin emancipation.
The General Conference of 1800 declared slavery among ministers or lay
members not only “reprehensible,” but that “such slaveholders must
consent to manumit all such persons held in bondage or leave the
Church,” even though purchased to prevent the separation of husband and
wife, or parents and children. Thus the Church unmistakably declared its
unutterable opposition to the heretical doctrine of “doing evil that
good may come of it.” That General Conference, if possible, went further
still when it declared: “Any minister who marries a slaveholding wife
must be expelled.” If this was not strong language, then there is none.
The Church, at that period, sought not only to protect, but to give “the
colored members within its communion all the rights and privileges
guaranteed by the Discipline to any other members.” Was it strange,
after this action, that the Methodist Episcopal Church decided that even
colored men were eligible to ordination? From henceforth the Church saw
no valid reason, as there was none, why it should not be done; and hence
the Church began to ordain colored men as “deacons in the Church of
God.”
We have seen that at each General Conference of our Church from the
beginning, the question of human slavery was discussed, opposed, and
anathematized by the Church. And yet during that time many strange
things occurred. In the General Conference of 1804, that met in the city
of Baltimore, Freeborn Garrettson moved that the question of the buying
and selling of slaves be left to the three bishops for regulation. Just
what this meant does not appear on the surface. It could have meant that
the Church knew the hearts of the three bishops were right, and that
they would therefore oppose anything like a compromise with the system
of human slavery then in vogue. It could have meant that they were
conservative, and would not, therefore, likely precipitate any trouble
upon the Church on account of this vexed question. Viewed from any point
at this distance, it assumes a strange attitude. It may have been
intended as a measure to “bring peace out of confusion;” but “peace,”
“peace,” when there could be no peace, had been the slaveholders’ cry
all along. It was considered a conciliatory measure. It proved to be
exactly the reverse. It resulted in confusion; for the following General
Conference, in 1808, declared that the question of “buying and selling
slaves must hereafter be left to the discretion of the several annual
conferences for decision.” Though this action was taken seventy-nine
years ago, it appears as inexplicable to the writer as it did to some
men at that day. Its consistency and spirit do not even to-day present a
single redeeming feature. Every General Conference had moved a notch
higher in opposition to slavery, and now the whole subject was ordered
out of the General Conference, to be decided by the annual conferences,
in the which were some probably, if not slaveholders, sympathizers with
slavery. This was done, too, in face of the well-known fact that the
United States government had become so disturbed on account of the
discussions arising out of the question of human slavery and other
causes, as to prohibit the importation of any more African slaves into
America. It could have been one of those peculiar proceedings that occur
now and then, in the which “certain inalienable rights, among which
life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness” have no consideration; but
in the which “expediency,” and not principle, obtain. It is thought by
some that the action taken by that General Conference on the question of
slavery was regretted by many afterward. The motion by which that
question was sent down to the annual conferences was a repetition of the
political idea of the doctrine of States’ rights, with the colored man’s
interests not considered.
When the General Conference met in the city of Baltimore in 1812, the
persistency of the friends of the colored man in pushing his claims
showed him not friendless. The colored man, like other men, feels very
keenly impositions, and yet we think it is conceded that he is of a
religious turn of mind, docile and humble, but has his preferences as
clearly as other men. He does not like to be considered a bone of
contention, a cat’s-paw, or an intruder. He does like to have his
manhood respected. But suppose the above action of the General
Conference of 1808 was a mistake, is it not admissible that it was
possible to turn the head of the Church in the opposite direction now
and then, if even for a time only? It was a perplexing question, indeed;
and as the law of the land supported it—for slavery shielded itself
behind the venerated Constitution—what more could the Church do, since
some conferences were in Massachusetts and some in South Carolina?
However, that General Conference declared that under existing
circumstances but little, if anything, could be done to abolish human
slavery in America outside of political powers; that the Church of God
in general, and the Methodist Episcopal Church in particular, could not
reach the question as effectively as the civil law. But the civil law
had only then begun to take notice of the foul system of slavery in this
country.
In the despondency of that day and hour—for there was despondency behind
the action of that body on the question of slavery—the attention of that
General Conference was called to consider the advisability of looking
after the interests of “the free people of color.” In some States the
manumission of slaves was prohibited, except they were at once moved out
of that State. In cases where this was not done some complaint would
usually be lodged against them, and they were incarcerated in prison,
and, “as a penalty for violation of the law, were sold again into
slavery by sheriff’s sale.” Colonization in Africa was seemingly the
only hope. Hence, when a report was presented to the General Conference
from the American Colonization Society, it was commended to the generous
public. Such cases as that of Dred Scott discouraged many people who
wished to manumit their slaves from doing so, for fear they might be
re-enslaved. The General Conference declared the idea of colonizing the
“free people of color” in Africa as a wise measure in the right
direction. What less could the Church have done for the race? What less
ought it to have done? When the General Conference of 1816 met, the
question of slavery, and the proper recognition of the colored members
of the Church came up for consideration. The Church must have seen by
that time that a mistake had been made by refusing to grant its colored
members a separate conference. Not that the Church had given colored
members of intelligence “cause for complaint,” but that it did not
sooner see that an insidious foe was in its very vitals, stealing away
its life. If the Church, however, had been an institution dependent upon
the whims of the human family, whose strength and perpetuation were
dependent wholly upon its agreement with the slave oligarchy, the action
taken by the Church in defense of her colored members would have
appeared fool-hardy. But it was not, for it had the support of Him who
said, “Upon this rock I will build my Church, and the gates of hell
shall not prevail against it.”
The secession of the “Allenites” alienated quite a number of Christian
men from the side of the defense of the colored man. Why should it not,
when a few of the faithful white men had not only jeoparded their future
prospects, blighted their present fame, brought down upon them the
vituperation and obloquy of the slave oligarchy within and without the
Church, simply because they professed to believe “a man’s a man for a’
that, and a’ that?” Is it not strange that some were so unwise as to be
misled by a misguiding or ambitious spirit, when they were not able to
add one cubit to their stature or make one hair white or black?
During the ensuing quadrennium “the color question” was discussed pro
and con. When the General Conference of 1824 met in Baltimore, and
declared that colored preachers were entitled to equal privileges “with
others,” it was a commendable step. Such action was calculated to
restore to the fold the seceders of 1816 and 1820, had their ambition
not reached beyond justice and right. Although the Methodist Episcopal
Church did all in its power, apparently, by General Conference action
and episcopal supervision, to reclaim the seceders, they persistently
refused either to be comforted or to return to the fold. Probably
sufficient cause can be found in Bishop Allen’s reasons for not wishing
to accept Bishop Asbury’s invitation to travel and preach with him, when
the reason as given by him to the bishop was, that he thought “that men
should lay up something for a rainy day.” There was never a promise made
by the Master to give any man a large salary to hunt up “the lost sheep
of Israel.” Because of the failure to conciliate those offended brethren
some looked askant at Methodism; because, forsooth, they knew not the
bottom facts. From the General Conference of 1824 to that of 1836, which
met in Cincinnati, Ohio, the agitation of the question continued. The
condemnation of the two premature lecturers by this General Conference
gave great offense to the Abolitionists everywhere, and depressed
woefully the spirits of the colored members without the Church. Poor,
ignorant, and deluded men would naturally and rightfully conclude that
in the hearts and bosoms of those men their dearest interests were
planted, and hence the disposition to put a quietus upon them was
equivalent to the non-recognition of the rights of the colored man
within and without the Church to the bright anticipation of ever being
allowed the enjoyment of “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.”
As a natural result of the supposed compromise with slavery made by the
“Conference Rights” act, many conferences complained by memorial that
they had difficulty after difficulty in properly adjusting the matter of
slavery. Hence came the next step—legitimate child of previous action—a
declaration that the question of slavery was one of those peculiar cases
where only the civil law could properly adjust and act upon it. From
1836 to 1844 the war on slavery and in favor of slavery was unceasingly
waged within and without the Church. The thought of the regular
succession of events is not to be questioned when we remember the
struggles of the General Conference of 1840 at Baltimore over the appeal
of Silas Comfort, and that of the marriage of a Baltimorean preacher and
a Georgian bishop to slaveholding women. The Silas Comfort decision was,
on the whole, the best thing possible for the peace of the colored man
within and without the Methodist Episcopal Church. The decision was all
that could have been asked so far as the then present peace of the
colored man was concerned. But the Lord Jesus at one time said: “I came
not to bring peace on the earth, but a sword.” If we have the proper
conception of his meaning, there are times when peace is not the best
thing possible. When the General Conference received the protest from
Sharp Street Church against the decision, it only exhibited the fact
that men and Churches do not always see themselves as others see them.
But if in the Silas Comfort appeal decision the enemies of human rights
scored a victory over the friends of human freedom, the latter turned
the tide and scored a more glorious as well as righteous victory at the
General Conference of 1844, that met in the city of New York, when the
resolution that had been carried and placed on record denouncing the
action of “the two Abolition lecturers” was ordered to be expunged
therefrom. At that General Conference a petition was presented from the
colored ministers within the Church asking admission into the annual
conferences. This was refused for some reason. Then there followed a
petition for a separate conference. The wisdom of the refusal to grant
said separate conference is now apparent to all who are either concerned
or have the interests of the race, as such, at heart. No argument is
needed to substantiate the above proposition in the minds of any
intelligent person. Notwithstanding this, the historian of African
Methodism said in his “Apology:” “It would have been a source of
unspeakable joy had he been permitted truthfully to record that your
Church had acknowledged your full and true manhood, and not denied it
both in practice and in law—had received you into conference upon a
perfect ministerial equality; but, alas! the doors of its conferences
were locked, and bolted and barred against you.” Such thrusts as the
above, if there was no other sufficient reason for asking it, were
certainly calculated to urge the matter forward, because the
restlessness of the members, begotten by such unsolicited and
sophisticated sympathy, showed it necessary. Just why separate
conferences were not given them in the free States does not appear on
the surface. Those who were in authority at that time no doubt had good
and sufficient reasons for not granting the privilege of membership with
white ministers in the annual conferences on the one hand, nor separate
conferences on the other hand. While it does not appear that it would
have been wisdom to have granted them the latter in the slave States, we
submit, now, without questioning the wisdom displayed by those godly
fathers. Those who wish to speculate may do so; we are satisfied. All
this but declares
“Vice is a monster of so frightful mien,
As to be hated, needs but to be seen;
Yet seen too oft, familiar with her face,
We first endure, then pity, then embrace.”
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