and worse than nominal, were he (the slave) to be let loose on society
under circumstances driving him to commit crimes, for which he would be
condemned to severer bondage than he had escaped." If then, after all,
liberty may be worse than a mere name, is it not a pity that all men
should have an "inalienable right" to it? If it may be a curse, is it
not a pity that all men should be required to embrace it, and to be even
ready to die for it, as an invaluable blessing? We trust that "no man,"
that "no rational and immortal being," will ever be so ungrateful as to
complain of those who have withheld from him that which is "worse than
nominal," and a curse. For if such, and such only, be his inalienable
birthright, were it not most wisely exchanged for a mess of pottage? The
vagrant, then, should not be consulted whether he will work or not. He
should be "confined and compelled" to work, says Dr. Channing. Nor
should the idle and the vicious, those who cannot be induced to work by
rational motives, be asked whether they will remain pests to society, or
whether they will eat their bread in the sweat of their brow. "For they,
too," says Dr. Channing, "should be compelled to work." But how? "The
slave should not have an owner," says Dr. Channing, "but he should have
a guardian. He needs authority, to supply the lack of that discretion
which he has not yet attained; but it should be the authority of a
friend, an official authority, conferred by the State, and for which
there should be responsibility to the State." Now, if all this be true,
is not the doctrine of equal rights, as held by Dr. Channing, a mere
dream? If one man may have "a guardian," "an official authority,"
appointed by the State, to compel him to work, why may not another be
placed under the same authority, and subjected to the same servitude?
Are not all equal? Have not all men an equal right to liberty and to a
choice of the pursuits of happiness? Let these questions be answered by
the admirers of Dr. Channing; and it will be found that they have
overthrown all the plausible logic, and blown away all the splendid
rhetoric, which has been reared, on the ground of equal rights, against
the institution of slavery at the South.
We are agreed, then, that men may be compelled to work. We are also
agreed that, for this purpose, the slaves of the South should be placed
under guardians and friends by the authority of the State. Dr. Channing
thinks, however, that the owner is not the best guardian or the best
friend whom the State could place over the slave. On the contrary, he
thinks his best friend and guardian would be an official overseer, bound
to him by no ties of interest, and by no peculiar feelings of affection.
In all this, we think Dr. Channing greatly mistaken; and mistaken
because he is an utter stranger to the feelings usually called forth by
the relation of master and slave. But, be this as it may, since such are
the concessions made by Dr. Channing, it is no longer necessary to
debate the question of slavery with him, on the high ground of abstract
inalienable rights. It is brought down to one of practical utility, of
public expediency.
And such being the nature of the question, we, as free citizens of the
South, claim the right to settle the matter for ourselves. We claim the
right to appoint such guardians and friends for this class of our
population as we believe will be most advantageous to them, as well as
to the whole community. We claim the right to impose such restraints,
and such only, as the well-being of our own society seems to us to
demand. This claim may be denied. The North may claim the right to think
for us in regard to this question of expediency. But it cannot be denied
that if liberty may be a curse, then no man can, in such case, have a
right to it as a blessing.
If liberty would be an equal blessing to all men, then, we freely admit,
all men would have an equal right to liberty. But to concede, as Dr.
Channing does, that it were a curse to some men and yet contend that all
men have an equal right to its enjoyment, is sheer absurdity and
nonsense. But Dr. Channing, as we have seen, sometimes speaks a better
sense. Thus, he has even said, "It would be cruelty, not kindness, to
the latter (to the slave) to give him a freedom which he is unprepared
to understand or enjoy. It would be cruelty to strike the fetters from a
man whose first steps would infallibly lead him to a precipice." So far,
then, according to the author himself, are all men from having an
"inalienable right" to liberty, that some men have no right to it at
all.
In like manner, Dr. Wayland, by his own admission, has overthrown all
his most confident deductions from the notion of equal rights. He, too,
quotes the Declaration of Independence, and adds, "That the equality
here spoken of is not of the means of happiness, but in the right to use
them as one wills, is too evident to need illustration." If this be the
meaning, then the meaning is not so evidently true. On the contrary, the
vaunted maxim in question, as understood by Dr. Wayland, appears to be
pure and unmixed error. Power, for example, is one means of happiness;
and so great a means, too, that without it all other means would be of
no avail. But has any man a right to use this means of happiness as he
wills? Most assuredly not. He has no right to use the power he may
possess, nor any other means of happiness, as he will, but only as
lawful authority has willed. If it be a power conferred by man, for
example, such as that of a chief magistrate, or of a senator, or of a
judge, he may use it no otherwise than as the law of the land permits,
or in pursuance of the objects for which it was conferred. In like
manner, if it proceed from the Almighty, it may be used only in
conformity with his law. So far, then, is it from being true that all
men possess an equal right to use the means of happiness as they please,
that no man ever has, or ever will, possess any such right at all. And
if such be the meaning of the Declaration of Independence, then the
Declaration of Independence is too evidently erroneous to need any
further refutation. Unless, indeed, man may put forth a declaration of
independence which shall annul and destroy the immutable obligations of
the moral law, and erect _one's will_ as the rule of right. But is an
equal exemption from the restraints of that law liberty, or is it
universal anarchy and confusion?
It were much nearer the truth to say that all men have an equal right,
not to act as "one wills," but to have their wills restrained by law. No
greater want is known to man, indeed, than the restraints of law and
government. Hence, all men have an equal right to these, but not to the
same restraints, to the same laws and governments. All have an equal
right to that government which is the best for them. But the same
government is not the best for all. A despotism is best for some; a
limited monarchy is best for others; while, for a third people, a
representative republic is the best form of government.
This proposition is too plain for controversy. It has received the
sanction of all the great teachers of political wisdom, from an
Aristotle down to a Montesquieu, and from a Montesquieu down to a Burke.
It has become, indeed, one of the commonplaces of political ethics; and,
however strange the conjunction, it is often found in the very works
which are loudest in proclaiming the universal equality of human rights.
Thus, for example, says Dr. Wayland: "The best form of government for
any people _is the best that its present moral condition renders
practicable. A people may be so entirely surrendered to the influence of
passion, and so feebly influenced by moral restraints, that a
government which relied upon moral restraint could not exist for a day_.
In this case, a subordinate and inferior principle remains--_the
principle of fear, and the only resort is to a government of force_ or a
military despotism. And such do we see to be the fact." What, then,
becomes of the equal and inalienable right of all men to freedom? Has it
vanished with the occasion which gave it birth?
But this is not all. "Anarchy," continues Wayland, "always ends in this
form of government. [A military despotism.] After this has been
established, and habits of subordination have been formed, while the
moral restraints are too feeble for self-government, an hereditary
government, which addresses itself to the imagination, and strengthens
itself by the influence of domestic connections, may be as good a form
as a people can sustain. As they advance in intellectual and moral
cultivation, it may advantageously become more and more elective, and,
in a suitable moral condition, it may be wholly so. For beings who are
willing to govern themselves by moral principles, there can be no doubt
that a government relying upon moral principle is the true form of
government. There is no reason why a man should be oppressed by taxation
and subjected to fear who is willing to govern himself by the law of
reciprocity. It is surely better for an intelligent and moral being to
do right from his own will, than _to pay another to force him to do
right_. And yet, as it is better that he should do right than wrong,
even though he be forced to do it, it is well that he should pay others
to force him, if there be no other way of insuring his good conduct. God
has rendered the blessing of freedom inseparable from moral restraint to
the individual; and hence it is vain for a people to expect to be free
unless they are first willing to be virtuous." Again, "There is no
self-sustaining power in any form of social organization. The only
self-sustaining power is in individual virtue.
"And the form of a government will always adjust itself to the moral
condition of a people. A virtuous people will, by their own moral power,
frown away oppression, and, under any form of constitution, become
essentially free. A people surrendered up to their own licentious
passions must be held in subjection by force; for every one will find
that force alone can protect him from his neighbors; and he will submit
to be oppressed, if he can only be protected. Thus, in the feudal ages,
the small independent landholders frequently made themselves slaves of
one powerful chief to shield themselves from the incessant oppression of
twenty."
Now all this is excellent sense. One might almost imagine that the
author had been reading Aristotle, or Montesquieu, or Burke. It is
certain he was not thinking of equal rights. It is equally certain that
his eyes were turned away from the South; for he could see how even
"independent landholders" might rightfully make slaves of themselves.
After such concessions, one would think that all this clamor about
inherent and _inalienable_ rights ought to cease.
In a certain sense, or to a certain extent, all men have equal rights.
All men have an equal right to the air and light of heaven; to the same
air and the same light. In like manner, all men have an equal right to
food and raiment, though not to the same food and raiment. That is, all
men have an equal right to food and raiment, provided they will earn
them. And if they will not earn them, choosing to remain idle,
improvident, or nuisances to society, then they should be placed under a
government of force, and compelled to earn them.
Again, all men have an equal right to serve God according to the
dictates of their own consciences. The poorest slave on earth possesses
this right--this inherent and inalienable right; and he possesses it as
completely as the proudest monarch on his throne. He may choose his own
religion, and worship his own God according to his own conscience,
provided always he seek not in such service to interfere with the rights
of others. But neither the slave nor the freeman has any right to
murder, or instigate others to murder, the master, even though he should
be ever so firmly persuaded that such is a part of his religious duty.
He has, however, the most absolute and perfect right to worship the
Creator of all men in all ways not inconsistent with the moral law. And
wo be to the man by whom such right is denied or set at naught! Such a
one we have never known; but whosoever he may be, or wheresoever he may
be found, let all the abolitionists, we say, hunt him down. He is not
fit to be a man, much less a Christian master.
But, it will be said, the slave has also a right to religious
instruction, as well as to food and raiment. So plain a proposition no
one doubts. But is this right regarded at the South? No more, we fear,
than in many other portions of the so-called Christian world. Our
children, too, and our poor, destitute neighbors, often suffer, we fear,
the same wrong at our remiss hands and from our cold hearts. Though we
have done much and would fain do more, yet, the truth must be confessed,
this sacred and imperious claim has not been fully met by us.
It may be otherwise at the North. There, children and poor neighbors,
too, may all be trained and taught to the full extent of the moral law.
This godlike work may be fully done by our Christian brethren of the
North. They certainly have a large surplus of benevolence to bestow on
us. But if this glorious work has not been fully done by them, then let
him who is without sin cast the first stone. This simple thought,
perhaps, might call in doubt their right to rail at us, at least with
such malignant bitterness and gall. This simple thought, perhaps, might
save us many a pitiless pelting of philanthropy.
But here lies the difference--here lies our peculiar sin and shame. This
great, primordial right is, with us, denied by law. The slave shall not
be taught to read. Oh! that he might be taught! What floods of sympathy,
what thunderings and lightnings of philanthropy, would then be spared
the world! But why, we ask, should the slave be taught to read? That he
might read the Bible, and feed on the food of eternal life, is the
reply; and the reply is good.
Ah! if the slave would only read his Bible, and drink its very spirit
in, we should rejoice at the change; for he would then be a better and a
happier man. He would then know his duty, and the high ground on which
his duty rests. He would then see, in the words of Dr. Wayland, "_That
the duty of slaves is explicitly made known in the Bible_. They are
bound to obedience, fidelity, submission, and respect to their
masters--not only to the good and kind, but also to the unkind and
froward; not, however, on the ground of duty to man, but _on the ground
of duty to God_." But, with all, we have some little glimpse of our
dangers, as well as some little sense of our duties.
The tempter is not asleep. His eye is still, as ever of old, fixed on
the forbidden tree; and thither he will point his hapless victims. Like
certain senators, and demagogues, and doctors of divinity, he will
preach from the Declaration of Independence rather than from the Bible.
He will teach, not that submission, but that _resistance_, is a duty. To
every evil passion his inflammatory and murder-instigating appeals will
be made. Stung by these appeals and maddened, the poor African, it is to
be feared, would have no better notions of equality and freedom, and no
better views of duty to God or man, than his teachers themselves have.
Such, then, being the state of things, ask us not to prepare the slave
for his own utter undoing. Ask us not--O most kind and benevolent
Christian teacher!--ask us not to lay the train beneath our feet, that
_you_ may no longer hold the blazing torch in vain!
Let that torch be extinguished. Let all incendiary publications be
destroyed. Let no conspiracies, no insurrections, and no murders be
instigated. Let the pure precepts of the gospel and its sublime lessons
of peace be everywhere set forth and inculcated. In one word, let it be
seen that in reality the eternal good of the slave is aimed at, and, by
the co-operation of all, may be secured, and then may we be asked to
teach him to read. But until then we shall refuse to head a conspiracy
against the good order, the security, the morals, and against the very
lives, of both the white and the black men of the South.
We might point out other respects in which men are essentially equal, or
_have equal rights_. But our object is not to write a treatise on the
philosophy of politics. It is merely to expose the errors of those who
push the idea of equality to an extreme, and thereby unwisely deny the
great differences that exist among men. For if the scheme or the
political principles of the abolitionists be correct, then there is no
difference among men, not even among the different races of men, that is
worthy the attention of the statesman.
There is one difference, we admit, which the abolitionists have
discovered between the master and the slave at the South. Whether this
discovery be entirely original with them, or whether they received hints
of it from others, it is clear that they are now fully in possession of
it. The dazzling idea of equality itself has not been able to exclude it
from their visions. For, in spite of this idea, they have discovered
that between the Southern master and slave there is a difference of
color! Hence, as if this were the only difference, in their political
harangues, whether from the stump or from the pulpit, they seldom fail
to rebuke the Southern statesman in the words of the poet: "He finds his
fellow guilty of a skin not colored like his own;" and "for such worthy
cause dooms and devotes him as his lawful prey." Shame and confusion
seize the man, we say, who thus dooms and devotes his fellow-man,
because he finds him "guilty of a skin!" If his sensibilities were only
as soft as his philosophy is shallow, he would certainly cry, "Down with
the institution of slavery!" For how could he tolerate an institution
which has no other foundation than a difference of color? Indeed, if
such were the only difference between the two races among us, we should
ourselves unite with Mr. Seward of New York, and most "affectionately
advise all men to be born white." For thus, the only difference having
been abolished, all men would be equal in fact, and consequently
entitled to become equal in political rights, and power, and position.
But if such be not the only difference between the white and the black
man of the South, then neither philosophy nor paint can establish an
equality between them.
Every man, we admit, is a man. But this profound aphorism is not the
only one to which the political architect should give heed. An equality
of conditions, of political powers and privileges, which has no solid
basis in an equality of capacity or fitness, is one of the wildest and
most impracticable of all Utopian dreams. If in the divine government
such an equality should prevail, it is evident that all order would be
overthrown, all justice extinguished, and utter confusion would reign.
In like manner, if in human government such equality should exist, it
would be only for a moment Indeed, to aim at an equality of conditions,
or of rights and powers except by first aming at an equality of
intelligence and virtue, is not to reform--it is to demolish--the
governments of society. It is, indeed, to war against the eternal order
of divine Providence itself in which an immutable justice ever regins.
"It is this aiming after an equality," says Aristotle, "which is the
cause of seditions." But though seditions it may have stirred up, and
fierce passions kindled, yet has it never led its poor deluded victims
to the boon after which they have so fondly panted.
Equality is not liberty. "The French," said Napoleon, "love equality:
they care little for liberty." Equality is plain, simple, easily
understood. Liberty is complex, and exceedingly difficult of
comprehension. The most illiterate peasant may, at a glance, grasp the
idea of equality; the most profound statesman may not, without much care
and thought, comprehend the nature of liberty. Hence it is that
equality, and not liberty, so readily seizes the mind of the multitude,
and so mightily inflames its passions. The French are not the only
people who care but little for liberty, while they are crazy for
equality. The same blind passion, it is to be feared, is possible even
in this enlightened portion of the globe. Even here, perhaps, a man may
rant and rave about equality, while, really, he may know but little
more, and consequently care but little more, about that complicated and
beautiful structure called civil liberty, than a horse does about the
mechanism of the heavens.
Thus, for example, a Senator[160] of the United States declares that the
democratic principle is "Equality of natural rights, guaranteed and
secured to all by the laws of a just, popular government. For one, I
desire to see that principle applied to every subject of legislation, no
matter what that subject may be--to the great question involved in the
resolution now before the Senate, and to every other question." Again,
this principle is "the element and guarantee of liberty."
Apply this principle, then, to every subject, to every question, and see
what kind of government would be the result. All men have an equal right
to freedom from restraint, and consequently all are made equally free.
All have an equal right to the elective franchise, and to every
political power and privilege. But suppose the government is designed
for a State in which a large majority of the population is without the
character, or disposition, or habits, or experience of freemen? No
matter: the equal rights of all are natural; and hence they should be
applied in all cases, and to every possible "subject of legislation."
The principle of equality should reign everywhere, and mold every
institution. Surely, after what has been said, no comment is necessary
on a scheme so wild, on a dream so visionary. "As distant as heaven is
from earth," says Montesquieu, "so is the true spirit of equality from
that of extreme equality." And just so distant is the Senator in
question, with all his adherents, from the true idea of civil and
political freedom.
The Senator thinks the conduct of Virginia "singular enough," because,
in presenting a bill of rights to Congress, she omitted the provision of
"her own bill of rights," "that all men are born[161] equally free and
independent." We think she acted wisely. For, in truth and in deed, all
men are born absolutely dependent and utterly devoid of freedom. What
right, we ask, has the new born infant? Has he the right to go where he
pleases? He has no power to go at all; and hence he has no more a right
to go than he has to fly. Has he the right to think for himself? The
power of thought is as yet wholly undeveloped. Has he the right to
worship God according to his own conscience? He has no idea of God, nor
of the duties due to him. The plain truth is, that no human being
possesses a right until the power or capacity on which the enjoyment of
that right depends is suitably developed or acquired. The child, for
instance, has no right to think for himself, or to worship God according
to the dictates of conscience, until his intellectual and moral powers
are suitably developed. He is certainly not born with such rights. Nor
has he any right to go where he pleases, or attempt to do so, until he
has learned to walk. Nor has he the right then, for, according to the
laws of all civilized nations, he is subject to the control of the
parent until he reaches the lawful age of freedom. The truth is, that
all men are born not equally free and independent, but equally without
freedom and without independence. "All men are born equal," says
Montesquieu; but he does not say they "are born equally free and
independent." The first proposition is true: the last is diametrically
opposed to the truth.
Another Senator[162] seems to entertain the same passion for the
principle of equality. In his speech on the Compromise Bill of 1850, he
says that "a statesman or a founder of States" should adopt as an axiom
the declaration, "That all men are created equal, and have inalienable
rights of life, liberty, and choice of pursuits of happiness." Let us
suppose, then, that this distinguished statesman is himself about to
establish a constitution for the people of Mississippi or Louisiana, in
which there are more blacks than whites. As they all have a natural and
"inalienable right" to liberty, of course he would make them all free.
But would he confer upon all, upon black as well as upon white, the
power of the elective franchise? Most certainly. For he has said, "We of
New York are guilty of slavery still by withholding the _right of
suffrage_ from the race we have emancipated." Surely, if he had to found
a State himself, he would not thus be guilty of slavery--of the one
odious thing which his soul abhors. All would then be invested with the
right of suffrage. A black legislature would be the consequence. The
laws passed by such a body would, we fear, be no better than the
constitution provided by the Senator--by the statesman--from New York.
"All men are born equal," says Montesquieu; but in the hands of such a
thinker no danger need be apprehended from such an axiom. For having
drank deeply of the true spirit of law, he was, in matters of
government, ever ready to sacrifice abstract perfection to concrete
utility. Neither the principle of equality, nor any other, would he
apply in all cases or to every subject. He was no dreamer. He was a
profound thinker and a real statesman. "Though real equality," says he,
"be the very soul of a democracy, _it is so difficult to establish, that
an extreme exactness in this respect is not always convenient_."
Again, he says: "All inequalities in democracies ought to be derived
from the nature of the government, and even from the principle of
equality. For example, it may be apprehended that people who are obliged
to live by labor would be too much impoverished by public employment, or
neglect the duties of attending to it; that artisans would grow
insolent; and that _too great a number of freemen would overpower the
ancient citizens_. IN THIS CASE, THE EQUALITY IN A DEMOCRACY MAY BE
SUPPRESSED FOR THE GOOD OF THE STATE."
Thus to give all men equal power where the majority is ignorant and
depraved, would be indeed to establish equality, but not liberty. On the
contrary, it would be to establish the most odious despotism on
earth,--the reign of ignorance, passion, prejudice, and brutality. It
would be to establish a mere nominal equality, and a real inequality.
For, as Montesquieu says, by introducing "too great a number of
freemen," the "ancient citizens" would be oppressed. In such case, the
principle of equality, even in a democracy, should be "suppressed for
the good of the State." It should be suppressed, in order to shut out a
still greater and more tremendous inequality. The legislator, then, who
aims to introduce an extreme equality, or to apply the principle of
equality to every question, would really bring about the most frightful
of all inequalities, especially in a commonwealth where the majority are
ignorant and depraved.
Hence the principle of equality is merely a standard toward which an
approximation may be made--an approximation always limited and
controlled by the public good. This principle should be applied, not to
every question, but only to such as the general good permits. For this
good it "may be suppressed." Nay, it must be suppressed, if, without
such suppression, the public order may not be sustained; for, as we have
abundantly seen, it is only in the bosom of an enlightened public order
that liberty can live, or move, or have its being. Thus, as Montesquieu
advises, we deduce an inequality from the very principle of equality
itself; since, if such inequality be not deduced and established by law,
a still more terrific inequality would be forced upon us. Blind passion
would dictate the laws, and brute force would reign, while innocence and
virtue would be trampled in the dust. Such is the inequality to which
the honorable senators would invite us; and that, too, by an appeal to
our love of equality! If we decline the invitation, this is not because
we are the enemies, but because we are the friends, of human freedom. It
is not because we love equality less, but liberty more.
The legislators of the North may, if they please, choose the principle
of equality as the very "element and guarantee" of their liberty; and,
to make that liberty perfect, they may apply it to every possible
"subject of legislation," and to "every question" under the sun. But, if
we may be permitted to choose for ourselves, we should beg to be
delivered from such an extreme equality. We should reject it as the very
worst "element," and the very surest "guarantee" of an unbounded
licentiousness and an intolerable oppression. As the "element and
guarantee" of freedom for ourselves, and for our posterity, we should
decidedly prefer the principle of an enlightened public order.
FOOTNOTES:
[142] Channing's Works, vol. ii. p. 126.
[143] Elements of Moral Science, Part ii. chap. i. sec. 11.
[144] Moral Science, Part ii. chap. i. sec. 2.
[145] Letters on Slavery, p. 89.
[146] Ibid, p. 92.
[147] Letters, p. 50.
[148] Letters, p. 50.
[149] Letters, p. 50.
[150] Letters, p. 113.
[151] Moral Science, Part ii. chap. i. sec. 2.
[152] Letters, p. 119, 120.
[153] Moral Science Part ii. chap. i. sec. 2.
[154] Moral Science, Part ii. chap. i. sec. 2.
[155] Ibid.
[156] The _Italics_ are our own.
[157] Lev. chap. xxv.
[158] Exod. chap. xxi.
[159] In the first chapter.
[160] Mr. Chase, of Ohio.
[161] "By nature," in the Original Bill of Rights.
[162] Mr. Seward, of New York.
CHAPTER III.
THE ARGUMENT FROM THE SCRIPTURES.
The Argument from the Old Testament.--The Argument from the New
Testament.
IN discussing the arguments of the abolitionists, it was scarcely
possible to avoid intimating, to a certain extent, the grounds on which
we intend to vindicate the institution of slavery, as it exists among us
at the South. But these grounds are entitled to a more distinct
enunciation and to a more ample illustration. In the prosecution of this
object we shall first advert to the argument from revelation; and, if we
mistake not, it will be found that in the foregoing discussion we have
been vindicating against aspersion not only the peculiar institution of
the Southern States, but also the very legislation of Heaven itself.
§ I. _The argument from the Old Testament._
The ground is taken by Dr. Wayland and other abolitionists, that slavery
is always and everywhere, _semper et ubique_, morally wrong, and should,
therefore, be instantly and universally swept away. We point to slavery
among the Hebrews, and say, There is an instance in which it was not
wrong, because there it received the sanction of the Almighty. Dr.
Wayland chooses to overlook or evade the bearing of that case upon his
fundamental position; and the means by which he seeks to evade its force
is one of the grossest fallacies ever invented by the brain of man.
Let the reader examine and judge for himself. Here it is: "Let us reduce
this argument to a syllogism, and it will stand thus: Whatever God
sanctioned among the Hebrews he sanctions for all men and at all times.
God sanctioned slavery among the Hebrews; therefore God sanctions
slavery for all men and at all times."
Now I venture to affirm that no man at the South has ever put forth so
absurd an argument in favor of slavery,--not only in favor of slavery
for the negro race so long as they may remain unfit for freedom, but in
favor of slavery for all men and for all times. If such an argument
proved any thing, it would, indeed, prove that the white man of the
South, no less than the black, might be subjected to bondage. But no one
here argues in favor of the subjection of the white man, either South or
North, to a state of servitude. No one here contends for the subjection
to slavery of any portion of the civilized world. We only contend for
slavery in certain cases; in opposition to the thesis of the
abolitionist, we assert that it is not always and everywhere wrong. For
the truth of this assertion we rely upon the express authority of God
himself. We affirm that since slavery has been ordained by him, it
cannot be always and everywhere wrong. And how does the abolitionist
attempt to meet this reply? Why, by a little legerdemain, he converts
this reply from an argument against his position, that slavery is always
and everywhere wrong, into an argument in favor of the monstrous dogma
that it is always and everywhere right! If we should contend that, in
some cases, it is right to take the life of a man, he might just as
fairly insist that we are in favor of having every man on earth put to
death! Was any fallacy ever more glaring? was any misrepresentation ever
more flagrant?
Indeed we should have supposed that Dr. Wayland might have seen that his
representation is not a fair one, if he had not assured us of the
contrary. We should have supposed that he might have distinguished
between an argument in favor of slavery for the lowest grade of the
ignorant and debased, and an argument in favor of slavery for all men
and all times, if he had not assured us that he possesses no capacity to
make it. For after having twisted the plea of the most enlightened
statesmen of the South into an argument in favor of the universal
subjection of mankind to slavery, he coolly adds, "I believe that in
these words I express the argument correctly. If I do not, it is solely
because I do not know how to state it more correctly." Is it possible
Dr. Wayland could not distinguish between the principle of slavery for
some men and the principle of slavery for all men? between the
proposition that the ignorant, the idle, and the debased may be
subjected to servitude, and the idea that all men, even the most
enlightened and free, may be reduced to bondage? If he had not
positively declared that he possessed no such capacity, we should most
certainly have entertained a different opinion.
It will not be denied, we presume, that the very best men, whose lives
are recorded in the Old Testament, were the owners and holders of
slaves. "I grant at once," says Dr. Wayland, "that the Hebrews held
slaves from the time of the conquest of Canaan, and that Abraham and the
patriarchs held them many centuries before. I grant also that Moses
enacted laws with special reference to that relation. . . . . I wonder
that any should have had the hardihood to deny so plain a matter of
record. I should almost as soon deny the delivery of the ten
commandments to Moses."
Now, is it not wonderful that directly in the face of "so plain a matter
of record," a pious Presbyterian pastor should have been arraigned by
abolitionists, not for holding slaves, but for daring to be so far a
freeman as to express his convictions on the subject of slavery? Most
abolitionists must have found themselves a little embarrassed in such a
proceeding. For _there_ was the fact, staring them in the face, that
Abraham himself, "the friend of God" and the "father of the faithful,"
was the owner and holder of more than a thousand slaves. How, then,
could these professing Christians proceed to condemn and excommunicate a
poor brother for having merely approved what Abraham had practiced? Of
all the good men of old, Abraham was the most eminent. The sublimity of
his faith and the fervor of his piety has, by the unerring voice of
inspiration itself, been held up as a model for the imitation of all
future ages. How, then, could a parcel of poor common saints presume,
without blushing, to cry and condemn one of their number because he was
no better than "Father Abraham?" This was the difficulty; and, but for a
very happy discovery, it must have been an exceedingly perplexing one.
But "Necessity is the mother of invention." On this trying occasion she
conceived the happy thought that the plain matter of record "was all a
mistake;" that Abraham never owned a slave; that, on the contrary, he
was "a prince," and the "men whom he bought with his money" were "his
subjects" merely! If, then, we poor sinners of the South should be
driven to the utmost extremity,--all honest arguments and pleas failing
us,--may we not escape the unutterable horrors of civil war, by calling
our masters princes, and our slaves subjects?
We shall conclude this topic with the pointed and powerful words of Dr.
Fuller, in his reply to Dr. Wayland: "Abraham," says he, "was 'the
friend of God,' and walked with God in the closest and most endearing
intercourse; nor can any thing be more exquisitely touching than those
words, 'Shall I hide from Abraham that thing which I do?' It is the
language of a friend who feels that concealment would wrong the
confidential intimacy existing. The love of this venerable servant of
God in his promptness to immolate his son has been the theme of apostles
and preachers for ages; and such was his faith, that all who believe are
called 'the children of faithful Abraham.' This Abraham, you admit, held
slaves. Who is surprised that Whitefield, with this single fact before
him, could not believe slavery to be a sin? Yet if your definition of
slavery be correct, holy Abraham lived all his life in the commission of
one of the most aggravated crimes against God and man which can be
conceived. His life was spent in outraging the rights of hundreds of
human beings, as moral, intellectual, immortal, fallen creatures, and in
violating their relations as parents and children, and husbands and
wives. And God not only connived at this appalling iniquity, but, in the
covenant of circumcision made with Abraham, expressly mentions it, and
confirms the patriarch in it, speaking of those 'bought with his money,'
and requiring him to circumcise them. Why, at the very first blush,
every Christian will cry out against this statement. To this, however,
you must come, or yield your position; and this is only the first
utterly incredible and monstrous corollary involved in the assertion
that slavery is essentially and always 'a sin of appalling magnitude.'"
Slavery among the Hebrews, however, was not left merely to a tacit or
implied sanction. It was thus sanctioned by the express legislation of
the Most High: "Both thy bondmen and thy bond-maids, which thou shalt
have, shall be of the heathen that are round about you; of them shall ye
buy bondmen and bond-maids. Moreover, of the children of the strangers
that do sojourn among you, of them shall ye buy, and of their families
that are with you, which they begat in your land; and they shall be your
possession. And ye shall take them as an inheritance for your children
after you, to inherit them for a possession; they shall be your bondmen
forever."[163] Now these words are so perfectly explicit, that there is
no getting around them. Even Dr. Wayland, as we have seen, admits that
the authority to take slaves _seems_ to be a part of "this original,
peculiar," and perhaps "anomalous grant." No wonder it appeared
_peculiar_ and _anomalous_. The only wonder is, that it did not appear
impious and absurd. So it has appeared to some of his co-agitators, who,
because they could not agree with Moses, have denied his mission as an
inspired teacher, and joined the ranks of infidelity.
Dr. Channing makes very light of this and other passages of Scripture.
He sets aside this whole argument from revelation with a few bold
strokes of the pen. "In this age of the world," says he, "and amid the
light which has been thrown on the true interpretation of the
Scriptures, such reasoning hardly deserves notice." Now, even if not for
our benefit, we think there are two reasons why such passages as the
above were worthy of Dr. Channing's notice. In the first place, if he
had condescended to throw the light in his possession on such passages,
he might have saved Dr. Wayland, as well as other of his admirers, from
the necessity of making the very awkward admission that the Almighty had
authorized his chosen people to buy slaves, and hold them as "bondmen
forever." He might have enabled them to see through the great
difficulty, that God has authorized his people to commit "a sin of
apalling magnitude," to perpetrate as "great a crime as can be
conceived;" which seems so clearly to be the case, if their views of
slavery be correct. Secondly, he might have enabled his followers to
espouse the cause of abolition without deserting, as so many of them
have openly done, the armies of the living God. For these two reasons,
if for no other, we think Dr. Channing owed it to the honor of his cause
to notice the passages of Scripture bearing on the subject of slavery.
The Mosaic Institutes not only recognize slavery as lawful; they contain
a multitude of minute directions for its regulation. We need not refer
to all of them; it will be sufficient for our purpose if we only notice
those which establish some of the leading characteristics of slavery
among the people of God.
1. Slaves were regarded as property. They were, as we have seen, called
a "possession" and an "inheritance."[164] They were even called the
"money" of the master. Thus, it is said, "if a man smite his servant or
his maid with a rod, and he die under his hand, he shall surely be
punished. Notwithstanding, if he continue a day or two, he shall not be
punished, for he is his money."[165] In one of the ten commandments this
right of property is recognized: "Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's
house, thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's wife, nor _his_ man-servant,
nor _his_ maid-servant, nor his ox, nor his ass, nor any thing that is
thy neighbor's."
2. They might be sold. This is taken for granted in all those passages
in which, for particular reasons, the master is forbidden to sell his
slaves. Thus it is declared: "Thou shalt not make merchandise of her,
because thou hast humbled her." And still more explicitly: "If a man
sell his daughter to be a maid-servant, she shall not go out as the
men-servants do. If she please not her master who hath betrothed her to
himself, then shall he let her be redeemed: to sell her to a strange
nation, he shall have no power, seeing he hath dealt deceitfully with
her.[166]
3. The slavery thus expressly sanctioned was hereditary and perpetual:
"Ye shall take them as an inheritance for your children after you, to
inherit them for a possession; they shall be your bondmen forever." Even
the Hebrew servant might, by his own consent, become in certain cases a
slave for life: "If thou buy a Hebrew servant, six years shall he serve;
and in the seventh shall he go out free for nothing. If he came in by
himself, he shall go out by himself: if he were married, then his wife
shall go out with him. If his master have given him a wife, and she have
borne him sons or daughters, the wife and the children shall be her
master's, and he shall go out by himself. And if the servant shall
plainly say, I love my master, my wife, and my children; I will not go
out free: then his master shall bring him unto the judges: he shall also
bring him to the door or unto the door-post, and his master shall bore
his ear through with an awl, and _he shall serve him forever_."
Now it is evident, we think, that the legislator of the Hebrews was not
inspired with the sentiments of an abolitionist. The principles of his
legislation are, indeed, so diametrically opposed to the political
notions of the abolitionist, that the latter is sadly perplexed to
dispose of them. While some deny the authority of these principles
altogether, and of the very book which contains them, others are
content to evade their force by certain ingenious devices of their own.
We shall now proceed to examine some of the more remarkable of these
cunningly-devised fables.
It is admitted by the inventors of these devices, that God expressly
permitted his chosen people to buy and hold slaves. Yet Dr. Wayland, by
whom this admission is made, has endeavored to weaken the force of it by
alleging that God has been pleased to enlighten our race progressively.
If, he argues, the institution of slavery among His people appears so
very "peculiar and anomalous," this is because he did not choose to make
known his whole mind on the subject. He withheld a portion of it from
his people, and allowed them, by express grant, to hold slaves until the
fuller revelation of his will should blaze upon the world. Such is,
perhaps, the most plausible defense which an abolitionist could possibly
set up against the light of revelation.
But to what does it amount? If the views of Dr. Wayland and his
followers, respecting slavery, be correct, it amounts to this: The
Almighty has said to his people, you may commit "a sin of appalling
magnitude;" you may perpetrate "as great an evil as can be conceived;"
you may persist in a practice which consists in "outraging the rights"
of your fellow-men, and in "crushing their intellectual and moral"
nature. They have a natural, inherent, and inalienable right to liberty
as well as yourselves, but yet you may make slaves of them, and they may
be your bondmen forever. In one word, _you_, my chosen people, may
degrade "rational, accountable, and immortal beings" to the "rank of
brutes." Such, if we may believe Dr. Wayland, is the first stage in the
divine enlightenment of the human race! It consists in making known a
part of God's mind, not against the monstrous iniquity of slavery, but
in its favor! It is the utterance, not of a partial truth, but of a
monstrous falsehood! It is the revelation of his will, not against sin,
but in favor of as great a sin "as can be conceived." Now, we may
fearlessly ask if the cause which is reduced to the necessity of
resorting to such a defense may not be pronounced desperate indeed, and
unspeakably forlorn?
It is alleged that polygamy and divorce, as well as slavery, are
permitted and regulated in the Old Testament. This, we reply, proves, in
regard to polygamy and divorce, exactly what it proves in regard to
slavery,--namely, that neither is in itself sinful, that neither is
_always_ and _everywhere_ sinful. In other words, it proves that
neither polygamy nor divorce, as permitted in the Old Testament, is
"_malum in se_," is inconsistent with the eternal and unchangeable
principles of right. They are forbidden in the New Testament, not
because they are in themselves absolutely and immutably wrong, but
because they are inconsistent with the best interests of society;
especially in civilized and Christian communities. If they had been
wrong in themselves, they never could have been permitted by a holy God,
who is of purer eyes than to behold iniquity, except with inifinite
abhorrence.
Again, it is contended by Dr. Wayland that "Moses intended to abolish
slavery," because he forbade the Jews "to deliver up a fugitive slave."
The words are these: "Thou shalt not deliver unto his master the servant
that is escaped from his master unto thee: "He shall dwell with thee,
even among you, in that place which he shall choose in one of the gates
where it liketh him best: thou shalt not oppress him."[167] "This
precept, I think," says Dr. Wayland, "clearly shows that Moses intended
to abolish slavery. How could slavery long continue in a country where
every one was forbidden to deliver up a fugitive slave? How different
would be the condition of slaves, and how soon would slavery itself
cease, were this the law of compulsory bondage among us!"
The above passage of Scripture is a precious morsel with those who are
opposed to a fugitive slave law. A petition from Albany, New York, from
the enlightened seat of empire of the Empire State itself, signed, if we
recollect right, by one hundred and fifty persons, was presented to the
United States Senate by Mr. Seward, praying that no bill in relation to
fugitive slaves might be passed, which should not contain that passage.
Whether Mr. Seward was enlightened by his constituents, or whether he
made the discovery for himself, it is certain that he holds an act for
the reclamation of fugitive slaves to be "contrary to the divine law."
It is certain that he agrees with his constituents, who, in the petition
referred to, pronounced every such act "immoral," and contrary to the
law of God. But let us look at this passage a little, and see if these
abolitionists, who thus plant themselves so confidently upon "a higher
law," even upon "the divine law" itself, be not as hasty and rash in
their interpretation of this law as they are accustomed to be in their
judgment respecting the most universal and long-established institutions
of human society.
In the first place, if their interpretation be correct, we are at once
met by a very serious difficulty. For we are required to believe that
one passage of Scripture grants an "authority to take slaves," while
another passage is designed to annul this authority. We are required to
believe that, in one portion of the divine law, the right of the master
to hold his slaves as "bondmen" is recognized, while another part of the
same law denies the existence of such right. In fine, we are required to
believe that the legislator of the Jews intended, in one and the same
code, both to establish and to abolish slavery; that with one hand he
struck down the very right and institution which he had set up with the
other. How Dr. Channing and Mr. Sumner would have disposed of this
difficulty we know full well, for they carry within their own bosoms a
higher law than this higher law itself. But how Dr. Wayland, as an
enlightened member of the good old orthodox Baptist Church, with whom
the Scripture is really and in truth the inspired word of God, would
have disposed of it, we are at some loss to conceive.
We labor under no such difficulty. The words in question do not relate
to slaves owned by Hebrew masters. They relate to those slaves only who
should escape from heathen masters, and seek an asylum among the people
of God. "The first inquiry of course is," says a learned divine,[168]
"in regard to those very words, 'Where does his master live?' Among the
Hebrews, or among foreigners? The language of the passage fully develops
this and answers the question. 'He has escaped from his master unto the
Hebrews; (the text says--_thee_, _i. e._ Israel;) _he shall dwell with
thee, even among you . . . in one of thy gates_.' Of course, then, he is
an _immigrant_, and did _not dwell among them_ before his flight. If he
had been a Hebrew servant, belonging to a Hebrew, the whole face of the
thing would be changed. Restoration, or restitution, if we may judge by
the tenor of other property-laws among the Hebrews, would have surely
been enjoined. But, be that as it may, the language of the text puts it
beyond a doubt that the servant is a _foreigner_, and has fled from a
_heathen master_. This entirely changes the complexion of the case. The
Hebrews were God's chosen people, and were the only nation on earth
which worshiped the only living and true God. . . . . In case a slave
escaped from them (the heathen) and came to the Hebrews, two things were
to be taken into consideration, according to the views of the Jewish
legislator. The first was that the treatment of slaves among the heathen
was far more severe and rigorous than it could lawfully be under the
Mosaic law. The heathen master possessed the power of life and death, of
scourging or imprisoning, or putting to excessive toil, even to any
extent that he pleased. Not so among the Hebrews. _Humanity_ pleaded
there for the protection of the fugitive. The second and most important
consideration was, that only among the Hebrews could the fugitive slave
come to the knowledge and worship of the only living and true God."
Now this view of the passage in question harmonizes one portion of
Scripture with another, and removes every difficulty. It shows, too, how
greatly the abolitionists have deceived themselves in their rash and
blind appeal to "the divine law" in question. "The reason of the law,"
says my Lord Coke, "is the law." It is applicable to those cases, and to
those cases only, which come within the reason of the law. Hence, if it
be a fact, and if our Northern brethren really believe that we are sunk
in the darkness of heathen idolatry, while the light of the true
religion is with them alone, why, then, we admit that the reason and
principle of the divine law in question is in their favor. Then we admit
that the return of our fugitive slaves is "contrary to the divine law."
But if we are not heathen idolaters, if the God of the Hebrews be also
the God of Southern masters, then the Northern States do not violate the
precept in question--they only discharge a solemn constitutional
obligation--in delivering up our "fugitives from labor."
§ II. _The argument from the New Testament._
The New Testament, as Dr. Wayland remarks, was given, "not to one
people, but to the whole race; not for one period, but for all time."
Its lessons are, therefore, of universal and perpetual obligation. If,
then, the Almighty had undertaken to enlighten the human race by
degrees, with respect to the great sin of slavery, is it not wonderful
that, in the very last revelation of his will, he has uttered not a
single syllable in disapprobation thereof? Is it not wonderful, that he
should have completed the revelation of his will,--that he should have
set his seal to the last word he will ever say to man respecting his
duties, and yet not one word about the great obligation of the master to
emancipate his slaves, nor about the "appalling sin" of slavery? Such
silence must, indeed, appear exceedingly peculiar and anomalous to the
abolitionist. It would have been otherwise had he written the New
Testament. He would, no doubt, have inserted at least one little precept
against the sin of slavery.
As it is, however, the most profound silence reigns through the whole
word of God with respect to the sinfulness of slavery. "It must be
granted," says Dr. Wayland, "that the New Testament contains no
_precept_ prohibitory of slavery." Marvellous as such silence must needs
be to the abolitionist, it cannot be more so to him than his attempts to
account for it are to others. Let us briefly examine these attempts:
"You may give your child," says Dr. Wayland, "if he were approaching to
years of discretion, permission to do an act, while you inculcate upon
him principles which forbid it, for the sake of teaching him to be
governed by principles, rather than by any direct enactment. In such
case you would expect him to obey the principle, and not avail himself
of the permission." Now we fearlessly ask every reader whose moral sense
has not been perverted by false logic, if such a proceeding would not be
infinitely unworthy of the Father of mercies? According to Dr. Wayland's
view, he beholds his children living and dying in the practice of an
abominable sin, and looks on without the slightest note of admonition or
warning. Nay, he gives them permission to continue in the practice of
this frightful enormity, to which they are already bound by the triple
tie of habit, interest, and feeling! Though he gives them line upon
line, and precept upon precept, in order to detach them from other sins,
he yet gives them permission to live and die in this awful sin! And why?
To teach them, forsooth, not to follow his permission, but to be guided
by his principles! Even the guilty Eli remonstrated with his sons. Yet
if, instead of doing this, he had given them permission to practice the
very sins they were bent upon, he might have been, for all that, as pure
and faithful as the Father of mercies himself is represented to be in
the writings of Dr. Wayland. Such are the miserable straits, and such
the impious sophisms, to which even divines are reduced, when, on the
supposition that slavery is a sin, they undertake to vindicate or defend
the word which they themselves are ordained to preach!
Another reason, scarcely less remarkable than the one already noticed,
is assigned for the omission of all precepts against slavery. "It was no
part of the scheme of the gospel revelation," we are told by Dr.
Wayland, (who quotes from Archbishop Whately,) "to lay down any thing
approaching to a complete system of _moral precepts_--to enumerate every
thing that is _enjoined_ or _forbidden_ by our religion." If this method
of teaching had been adopted, "the New Testament would," says Dr.
Wayland, "have formed a library in itself, more voluminous than the laws
of the realm of Great Britain." Now, all this is very true; and hence
the necessity of leaving many points of duty to the enlightened
conscience, and to the application of the more general precepts of the
gospel. But how has it happened that slavery is passed over in silence?
Because, we are told; "every thing" could not be noticed. If, indeed,
slavery be so great a sin, would it not have been easier for the divine
teacher to say, Let it be abolished, than to lay down so many minute
precepts for its regulation? Would this have tended to swell the gospel
into a vast library, or to abridge its teachings? Surely, when Dr.
Wayland sets up such a plea, he must have forgotten that the New
Testament, though it cannot notice "every thing," contains a multitude
of rules to regulate the conduct of the master and the slave. Otherwise
he could scarcely have imagined that it was from an aversion to
minuteness, or from an impossibility to forbid every evil, that the sin
of slavery is passed over in silence.
He must also have forgotten another thing. He must have forgotten the
colors in which he had painted the evils of slavery. If we may rely upon
these, then slavery is no trifling offense. It is, on the contrary, a
stupendous sin, overspreading the earth, and crushing the
faculties--both intellectual and moral--of millions of human beings
beneath its odious and terrific influence. Now, if this be so, then
would it have been too much to expect that at least one little word
might have been directed against so great, so tremendous an evil? The
method of the gospel may be comprehensive, if you please; it may teach
by great principles rather than by minute precepts. Still, it is
certain that St. Paul could give directions about his cloak; and he
could spend many words in private salutations. In regard to the great
social evil of the age, however, and beneath which a large majority of
even the civilized world were crushed to the earth, he said nothing,
lest he should become too minute,--lest his epistles should swell into
too large a volume! Such is one of Dr. Wayland's defences of the gospel.
We shall offer no remark; we shall let it speak for itself.
A third reason for the silence in question is the alleged ease with
which precepts may be evaded. "A simple precept or prohibition," says
Dr. Wayland, "is, of all things, the easiest to be evaded. Lord Eldon
used to say, that 'no man in England could construct an act of
Parliament through which he could not drive a coach-and-four.' We find
this to have been illustrated by the case of the Jews in the time of our
Saviour. The Pharisees, who prided themselves on their strict obedience
to the _letter_, violated the _spirit_ of every precept of the Mosaic
code."
Now, in reply to this most extraordinary passage, we have several
remarks to offer. In the first place, perhaps every one is not so good a
driver as Lord Eldon. It is certain, that acts of Parliament have been
passed, through which the most slippery of rogues have not been able to
make their escape. They have been caught, tried, and condemned for their
offenses, in spite of all their ingenuity and evasion.
Secondly, a "principle" is just as easily evaded as a "precept;" and, in
most cases, it is far more so. The great principle of the New Testament,
which our author deems so applicable to the subject of slavery, is this:
"Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself." Now, if this be the great
principle intended to enlighten us respecting the sin of slavery, we
confess it has been most completely evaded by every slave State in the
Union. We have, indeed, so entirely deceived ourselves in regard to its
true import, that it seems to us to have not the most remote application
to such a subject. If any one will give our remarks on this great
"principle" a candid examination, we think he will admit that we have
deceived ourselves on very plausible, if not on unanswerable, grounds.
If slavery be a sin,--_always and everywhere_ a monstrous
iniquity,--then we should have been far more thoroughly enlightened with
respect to its true nature, and found evasion far more difficult, if
the New Testament had explicitly declared it to be such, and commanded
all masters everywhere to emancipate their slaves. We could have driven
a coach-and-four neither through, nor around, any such express
prohibition. It is indeed only in consequence of the default, or
omission, of such precept or command, that the abolitionist appeals to
what he calls the principles of the gospel. If he had only one such
precept,--if he had only one such precise and pointed prohibition, he
might then, and he _would_, most triumphantly defy evasion. He would
say, There is _the word_; and none but the obstinate gainsayers, or
unbelievers, would dare reply. But as it is, he is compelled to lose
himself in vague generalities, and pretend to a certainty which nowhere
exists, except in his own heated mind. This pretense, indeed, that an
express precept, prohibitory of slavery, is not the most direct way to
reveal its true nature, because a precept is so much more easily evaded
than a principle, is merely one of the desperate expedients of a forlorn
and hopeless cause. If the abolitionist would maintain that cause, or
vindicate his principles, it will be found that he must retire, and hide
himself from the light of revelation.
Thirdly, the above passage seems to present a very strange view of the
Divine proceedings. According to that view, it appears that the Almighty
tried the method of teaching by precept in the Old Testament, and the
experiment failed. For precepts may be so easily evaded, that every one
in the Mosaic code was violated by the Pharisees. Hence, the method of
teaching by precept was laid aside in the New Testament, and the better
method of teaching by principle was adopted. Such is the conclusion to
which we must come, if we adopt the reasoning of Dr. Wayland. But we
cannot adopt his reasoning; since we should then have to believe that
the experiment made in the Old Testament proved a failure, and that its
Divine Author, having grown wiser by experience, improved upon his
former method.
The truth is, that the method of the one Testament is the same as that
of the other. In both, the method of teaching by precept is adopted; by
precepts of greater and of lesser generality. Dr. Wayland's principle is
merely a general or comprehensive precept; and his precept is merely a
specific or limited principle. The distinction he makes between them,
and the use he makes of this distinction, only reflect discredit upon
the wisdom and consistency of the Divine Author of revelation.
A third account which Dr. Wayland gives of the silence of the New
Testament respecting the sin of slavery, is as follows: "If this form of
wrong had been singled out from all the others, and had alone been
treated preceptively, the whole system would have been vitiated. We
should have been authorized to inquire why were not similar precepts in
other cases delivered? and if they were not delivered, we should have
been at liberty to conclude that they were intentionally omitted, and
that the acts which they would have forbidden are innocent." Very well.
But idolatry, polygamy, divorce, is each and every one singled out, and
forbidden by precept, in the New Testament. Slavery alone is passed over
in silence. Hence, according to the principle of Dr. Wayland himself, we
are at liberty to conclude that a precept forbidding slavery was
"intentionally omitted," and that slavery itself "is innocent."
Each one of these reasons is not only exceedingly weak in itself, but it
is inconsistent with the others. For if a precept forbidding slavery
were purposely omitted, in order to teach mankind to be governed by
principle and to disregard permissions, then the omission could not have
arisen from a love of brevity. Were it not, indeed, just as easy to give
a precept forbidding, as to give one permitting, the existence of
slavery? Again, if a great and world-devouring sin, such as the
abolitionists hold slavery to be, has been left unnoticed, lest its
condemnation should impliedly sanction other sins, then is it not worse
than puerile to suppose that the omission was made for the sake of
brevity, or to teach mankind that the permissions of the Most High may
in certain cases be treated with contempt, may be set at naught, and
despised as utterly inconsistent, as diametrically opposed to the
principles and purity of his law?
If the abolitionist is so completely lost in his attempts to meet the
argument from the silence of Scripture, he finds it still more difficult
to cope with that from its express precepts and injunctions. _Servants,
obey your masters_, is one of the most explicit precepts of the New
Testament. This precept just as certainly exists therein as does the
great principle of love itself. "The obedience thus enjoined is placed,"
says Dr. Wayland, "not on the ground of duty to man, but on the ground
of duty to God." We accept the interpretation. It cannot for one moment
disturb the line of our argument. It is merely the shadow of an attempt
at an evasion. All the obligations of the New Testament are, indeed,
placed on the same high ground. The obligation of the slave to obey his
master could be placed upon no higher, no more sacred, no more
impregnable, ground.
Rights and obligations are correlative. That is, every right implies a
corresponding obligation, and every obligation implies a corresponding
right. Hence, as the slave is under an obligation to obey the master, so
the master has a right to his obedience. Nor is this obligation
weakened, or this right disturbed, by the fact that the first is imposed
by the word of God, and rests on the immutable ground of duty to him.
If, by the divine law, the obedience of the slave is due to the master,
then, by the same law, the master has a right to his obedience.
Most assuredly, the master is neither "a robber," nor "a murderer," nor
"a manstealer," merely because he claims of the slave that which God
himself commands the slave to render. All these epithets may be, as they
have been, hurled at us by the abolitionist. His anathemas may thunder.
But it is some consolation to reflect, that, as he was not consulted in
the construction of the moral code of the universe, so, it is to be
hoped, he will not be called upon to take part in its execution.
The most enlightened abolitionists are sadly puzzled by the precept in
question; and, from the manner in which they sometimes speak of it, we
have reason to fear it holds no very high place in their respect. Thus,
says the Hon. Charles Sumner, "Seeking to be brief, I shall not
undertake to reconcile texts of the Old Testament, which, whatever may
be their import, are all absorbed in the New; nor shall I stop to
consider the precise interpretation of the oft-quoted phrase, _Servants,
obey your masters_; nor seek to weigh any such imperfect injunction in
the scales against those grand commandments on which hang all the law
and the prophets."[169] Now this is a very significant passage. The
orator, its learned author, will not stop to consider the texts of the
Old Testament bearing on the subject of slavery, because they are all
merged in the New! Nor will he stop to consider any "such _imperfect
injunction_" as those contained in the New, because they are all
swallowed up and lost in the grand commandment, "Thou shalt love thy
neighbor as thyself!"
If he had bestowed a little more attention on this grand commandment
itself, he might have seen, as we have shown, that it in no wise
conflicts with the precept which enjoins servants to obey their masters.
He might have seen that it is not at all necessary to "weigh" the one of
those precepts "in the scales against" the other, or to brand either of
them as imperfect. For he might have seen a perfect harmony between
them. It is no matter of surprise, however, that an abolitionist should
find imperfections in the moral code of the New Testament.
It is certainly no wonder that Mr. Sumner should have seen imperfections
therein. For he has, in direct opposition to the plainest terms of the
gospel, discovered that it is the first duty of the slave to fly from
his master. In his speech delivered in the Senate of the United States,
we find among various other quotations, a verse from Sarah W. Morton, in
which she exhorts the slave to fly from bondage. Having produced this
quotation "as part of the testimony of the times," and pronounced it "a
truthful homage to the inalienable rights" of the slave, Mr. Sumner was
in no mood to appreciate the divine precept, "Servants, obey your
masters." Having declared fugitive slaves to be "the heroes of the age,"
he had not, as we may suppose, any very decided taste for the
commonplace Scriptural duties of submission and obedience. Nay, he
spurns at and rejects such duties as utterly inconsistent with the
"inalienable rights of man." He appeals from the oracles of eternal
truth to "the testimony of the times." He appeals from Christ and his
apostles to Sarah W. Morton. And yet, although he thus takes ground
directly against the plainest precepts of the gospel, and even ventures
to brand some of them as "imperfect," he has the hardihood to rebuke
those who find therein, not what it really contains, but only a
reflection of themselves!
The precept in question is not an isolated injunction of the New
Testament. It does not stand alone. It is surrounded by other
injunctions, equally authoritative, equally explicit, equally
unequivocal. Thus, in Eph. vi. 5: "Servants, be obedient to them that
are your masters according to the flesh." Precisely the same doctrine
was preached to the Colossians: (iii. 22:) "Servants, obey in all
things your masters according to the flesh; not with eye-service, as
men-pleasers, but in singleness of heart, fearing God." Again, in St.
Paul's Epistle to Timothy, he writes: "Let as many servants as are under
the yoke count their own masters worthy of all honor, that the name of
God and his doctrine be not blasphemed." Likewise, in Tit. ii. 9, 10, we
read: "Exhort servants to be obedient to their own masters, and to
please them well in all things; not answering again; not purloining, but
showing all good fidelity, that they may adorn the doctrine of God our
Saviour in all things." And in 1 Pet. ii. 18, it is written: "Servants,
be subject to your masters with all fear; not only to the good and
gentle, but also to the froward." Yet, in the face of these passages,
Mr. Sumner declares that it is the duty of slaves to fly from bondage,
and thereby place themselves among "the heroes of the age." He does not
attempt to interpret or explain these precepts; he merely sets them
aside, or passes them by with silent contempt, as "imperfect." Indeed,
if his doctrines be true, they are not only imperfect--they are
radically wrong and infamously vicious. Thus, the issue which Mr. Sumner
has made up is not with the slaveholders of the South; it is with the
word of God itself. The contradiction is direct, plain, palpable, and
without even the decency of a pretended disguise. We shall leave Mr.
Sumner to settle this issue and controversy with the Divine Author of
revelation.
In the mean time, we shall barely remind the reader of what that Divine
Author has said in regard to those who counsel and advise slaves to
disobey their masters, or fly from bondage. "They that have believing
masters," says the great Apostle to the Gentiles, "let them not despise
them because they are brethren; but rather do them service, because they
are faithful and beloved, partakers of the benefit. These things teach
and exhort. If any man teach otherwise, and consent not to wholesome
words, even the words of our Lord Jesus Christ, and to the doctrine
which is according to godliness, _he is proud, knowing nothing_." Mr.
Sumner congratulates himself that he has stripped "from slavery the
apology of Christianity." Let servants "count their own masters worthy
of all honor," and "do them service," says St. Paul. "Let servants
disobey their masters," says Mr. Sumner, "and cease to do them service."
"These things teach and exhort," says St. Paul. "These things denounce
and abhor," says Mr. Sumner. "If any man teach otherwise," says St.
Paul, "he is proud, knowing nothing." "I teach otherwise," says Mr.
Sumner. And is it by such conflict that he strips from slavery the
sanction of Christianity? If the sheer _ipse dixit_ of Mr. Sumner be
sufficient to annihilate the authority of the New Testament, which he
professes to revere as divine, then, indeed, has he stripped the
sanction of Christianity from the relation of master and slave.
Otherwise, he has not even stripped from his own doctrines the burning
words of her condemnation.
Dr. Wayland avoids a direct conflict with the teachings of the gospel.
He is less bold, and more circumspect, than the Senator from
Massachusetts. He has honestly and fairly quoted most of the texts
bearing on the subject of slavery. He shows them no disrespect. He
pronounces none of them imperfect. But with this array of texts before
him he proceeds to say: "Now, I do not see that the scope of these
passages can be misunderstood." Nor can we. It would seem, indeed,
impossible for the ingenuity of man to misunderstand the words, quoted
by Dr. Wayland himself, "Servants, _obey_ in all things your masters
according to the flesh." Dr. Wayland does not misunderstand them. For he
has said, in his Moral Science: "The _duty of slaves_ is explicitly made
known in the Bible. They are bound to obedience, fidelity, submission,
and respect to their masters, not only to the good and kind, but also to
the unkind and froward." But when he comes to reason about these words,
which he finds it so impossible for any one to misunderstand, he is not
without a very ingenious method to evade their plain import and to
escape from their influence. Let the reader hear, and determine for
himself.
"I do not see," says Dr. Wayland, "that the scope of these passages can
be misunderstood. They teach patience, meekness, fidelity, and
charity--duties which are obligatory on Christians toward all men, and,
of course, toward masters. These duties are obligatory on us toward
enemies, because an enemy, like every other man, is a moral creature of
God." True. But is this all? Patience, meekness, fidelity,
charity--duties due to all men! But what has become of the word
_obedience_? This occupies a prominent--nay, the most prominent--place
in the teachings of St. Paul. It occupies no place at all in the
reasonings of Dr. Wayland. It is simply dropped out by him, or
overlooked; and this was well done, for this word _obedience_ is an
exceedingly inconvenient one for the abolitionist. If Dr. Wayland had
retained it in his argument, he could not have added, "duties which are
obligatory on Christians toward all men, and, of course, toward
masters." Christians are not bound to obey all men. But slaves are bound
to obey "their own masters." It is precisely upon this injunction to
obedience that the whole argument turns. And it is precisely this
injunction to obedience which Dr. Wayland leaves out in his argument. He
does not, and he cannot, misunderstand the word. But he can just drop it
out, and, in consequence, proceed to argue as if nothing more were
required of slaves than is required of all Christian men!
The only portion of Scripture which Mr. Sumner condescends to notice is
the Epistle of St. Paul to Philemon. He introduces the discussion of
this epistle with the remark that, "In the support of slavery, it is the
habit to pervert texts and to invent authority. Even St. Paul is vouched
for a wrong which his Christian life rebukes."[170] Now we intend to
examine who it is that really perverts texts of Scripture, and invents
authority. We intend to show, as in the clear light of noonday, that it
is the conduct of Mr. Sumner and other abolitionists, and not that of
the slaveholder, which is rebuked by the life and writings of the great
apostle.
The epistle in question was written to a slaveholder, who, if the
doctrine of Mr. Sumner be true, lived in the habitual practice of "a
wrong so transcendent, so loathsome, so direful," that it "must be
encountered _wherever it can be reached_, and the battle must be
continued, without truce or compromise, until the field is entirely
won." Is there any thing like this in the Epistle to Philemon? Is there
any thing like it in any of the epistles of St. Paul? Is there anywhere
in his writings the slightest hint that slavery is a sin at all, or that
the act of holding slaves is in the least degree inconsistent with the
most exalted Christian purity of life? We may safely answer these
questions in the negative. The very epistle before us is from "Paul, a
prisoner of Jesus Christ, and Timothy our brother, unto Philemon, _our
dearly-beloved, and fellow-laborer_." The inspired writer then proceeds
in these words: "I thank my God, making mention of thee always in my
prayers. Hearing of thy love and faith, which thou hast toward the Lord
Jesus, and toward all saints; that the communication of thy faith may
become effectual by the acknowledging of every good thing which is in
you in Christ Jesus. For we have great joy and consolation in thy love,
because the bowels of the saints are refreshed by thee, brother."
Now if, instead of leaving out this portion of the epistle, Mr. Sumner
had pronounced it in the hearing of his audience, the suspicion might
have arisen in some of their minds that the slaveholder may not, after
all, be so vile a wretch. It might even have occurred to some, perhaps,
that the Christian character of Philemon, the slaveholder, might
possibly have been as good as that of those by whom all slaveholders are
excommunicated and consigned to perdition. It might have been supposed
that a Christian man may possibly hold slaves without being as bad as
robbers, or cut-throats, or murderers. We do not say that Mr. Sumner
shrunk from the reading of this portion of the epistle in the hearing of
his audience, lest it should seem to rebuke the violence and the
uncharitableness of his own sentiments, as well as those of his brother
abolitionists at the North. We do say, however, that Mr. Sumner had no
sort of use for this passage. It could in no way favor the impression
his oration was designed to make. It breathes, indeed, a spirit of
good-will toward the Christian master as different from that which
pervades the speeches of the honorable Senator, as the pure charity of
Heaven is from the dire malignity of earth.
"It might be shown," says Mr. Sumner, "that the present epistle, when
truly interpreted, is a protest against slavery, and a voice for
freedom." If, instead of merely asserting that this "might be done," the
accomplished orator had actually done it, he would have achieved far
more for the cause of abolitionism than has been effected by all the
splendors of his showy rhetoric. He has, indeed, as we shall presently
see, made some attempt to show that the Epistle to Philemon is an
emancipation document. When we come to examine this most extraordinary
attempt, we shall perceive that Mr. Sumner's power "to pervert texts and
to invent authority," has not been wholly held in reserve for what
"might be done." If his view of this portion of Scripture be not very
profound, it certainly makes up in originality what it lacks in depth.
If it should fail to instruct, it will at least amuse the reader. It
shall be noticed in due time.
The next point that claims our attention is the intimation that St.
Paul's "real judgment of slavery" may be inferred "from his
condemnation, on another occasion, of 'manstealers,' or, according to
the original text, slave-traders, in company with murderers of fathers
and murderers of mothers." Were we disposed to enter into the exegesis
of the passage thus referred to, we might easily show that Mr. Sumner is
grossly at fault in his Greek. We might show that something far more
enormous than even trading in slaves is aimed at by the condemnation of
the apostle. But we have not undertaken to defend "manstealers," nor
"slave-traders," in any form or shape. Hence, we shall dismiss this
point with the opinion of Macknight, who thinks the persons thus
condemned in company with murderers of fathers and mothers, are "they
who make war for the inhuman purpose of selling the vanquished as
slaves, as is the practice of the African princes." To take any free
man, whether white or black, by force, and sell him into bondage, is
manstealing. To make war for such a purpose, were, we admit, wholesale
murder and manstealing combined. This view of the passage in question
agrees with that of the great abolitionist, Mr. Barnes, who holds that
"the _essential_ idea of the term" in question, "is _that of converting
a free man into a slave_" . . . . the "changing of a freeman into a slave,
especially by traffic, subjection, etc." Now, as we of the South,
against whom Mr. Sumner is pleased to inveigh, propose to make no such
changes of freemen into slaves, much less to wage war for any such
purpose, we may dismiss his gross perversion of the text in question. He
may apply the condemnation of the apostle to us now, if it so please the
benignity of his Christian charity, but it will not, we assure him,
enter into our consciences, until we shall not only become
"slave-traders," but also, with a view to the gain of such odious
traffic, make war upon freemen.
We have undertaken to defend, as we have said, neither "slave-traders,"
nor "manstealers." We leave them both to the tender mercies of Mr.
Sumner. But we have undertaken to defend slavery, that is, _the_ slavery
of the South, and to vindicate the character of Southern masters against
the aspersions of their calumniators. And in this vindication we shrink
not from St. Paul's "real judgment of slavery." Nay, we desire, above
all things, to have his real judgment. His judgment, we mean, not of
manstealers or of murderers, but of slavery and slaveholders. We have
just seen "his real judgment" respecting the character of one
slaveholder. We have seen it in the very epistle Mr. Sumner is
discussing. Why, then, does he fly from St. Paul's opinion of the
slaveholder to what he has said of the manstealer and the murderer? We
would gather an author's opinion of slavery from what he has said of
slavery itself, or of the slaveholder. But this does not seem to suit
Mr. Sumner's purpose quite so well. Entirely disregarding the apostle's
opinion of the slaveholder contained in the passage right before him, as
well as elsewhere, Mr. Sumner infers his "real judgment of slavery" from
what he has said of manstealers and murderers! He might just as well
have inferred St. Paul's opinion of Philemon from what he has, "on
another occasion," said of Judas Iscariot.
Mr. Sumner contents himself with "calling attention to two things,
apparent on the face" of the epistle itself; and which, in his opinion,
are "in themselves an all-sufficient response." The first of these
things is, says he: "While it appears that Onesimus had been in some way
the servant of Philemon, it does not appear that he had ever been held
as a slave, much less as a chattel." It does not appear that Onesimus
was the slave of Philemon, is the position of the celebrated senatorial
abolitionist. We cannot argue this position with him, however, since he
has not deigned to give any reasons for it, but chosen to let it rest
upon his assertion merely. We shall, therefore, have to argue the point
with Mr. Albert Barnes, and other abolitionists, who have been pleased
to attempt to bolster up so novel, so original, and so bold an
interpretation of Scripture with exegetical reasons and arguments.
In looking into these reasons and arguments,--if reasons and arguments
they may be called,--we are at a loss to conceive on what principle
their authors have proceeded. The most plausible conjecture we can make
is, that it was deemed sufficient to show that it is possible, by a bold
stroke of interpretation, to call in question the fact that Onesimus was
the slave of Philemon; since, if this may only be questioned by the
learned, then the unlearned need not trouble themselves with the
Scripture, but simply proceed with the work of abolitionism. Then may
they cry, "Who shall decide when doctors disagree?"[171] and give all
such disputings to the wind. Such seems to us to have been the principle
on which the assertion of Mr. Sumner and Mr. Barnes has proceeded;
evincing, as it does, an utter, total, and reckless disregard of the
plainest teachings of inspiration. But let the candid reader hear, and
then determine for himself.
The Greek word [Greek: doulos], applied to Onesimus, means, according to
Mr. Barnes, either a slave, or a hired servant, or an apprentice. It is
not denied that it means a _slave_. "The word," says Mr. Barnes himself,
"is that which is commonly applied to a slave." Indeed, to assert that
the Greek word [Greek: doulos] does not mean _slave_, were only a little
less glaringly absurd than to affirm that no such meaning belongs to the
English term _slave_ itself. If it were necessary, this point might be
most fully, clearly, and conclusively established; but since is is not
denied, no such work of supererogation is required at our hands.
But it is insisted, that the word in question has a more extensive
signification than the English term _slave_. "Thus," says Mr. Barnes,
"it is so extensive in its signification as to be applicable to any
species of servitude, whether voluntary or involuntary." Again: "All
that is necessairly implied by it is, that he was, in some way, the
servant of Philemon--whether _hired or bought cannot be shown_." Once
more, he says: "The word denotes _servant_ of any kind, and it should
never be assumed that those to whom it was applied were slaves." Thus,
according to Mr. Barnes, the word in question denotes a slave, or a
hired servant, or, as he has elsewhere said, an apprentice. It denotes
"servant of _any_ kind," whether "voluntary or involuntary."
Such is the positive assertion of Mr. Barnes. But where is the proof?
Where is the authority on which it rests? Surely, if this word is
applied to hired servants, either in the Greek classics or in the New
Testament, Mr. Barnes, or Mr. Sumner, or some other learned
abolitionist, should refer us to the passage where it is so used. We
have Mr. Barnes' assertion, again and again repeated, in his very
elaborate Notes on the Epistle to Philemon; but not the shadow of an
authority for any such use of the word. But stop: in making this
assertion, he refers us to his "Notes on Eph. vi 5, and 1 Tim. vi."
Perhaps we may find his authority by the help of one of these
references. We turn, then, to Eph. vi. 5; and we find the following
note: "Servants. [Greek: Hoi douloi]. The word here used denotes one who
is bound to render service to another, whether that service be free or
voluntary, and may denote, therefore, either a slave, or one who binds
himself to render service to another. _It is often used in these senses
in the New Testament, just as it is elsewhere._"[172] Why, then, if it
is so often used to denote a hired servant, or an apprentice, or a
voluntary servant of any kind, in the New Testament, is not at least one
such instance of its use produced by Mr. Barnes? He must have been aware
that one such authority from the New Testament was worth more than his
bare assertion, though it were a hundred times repeated. Yet no such
authority is adduced or referred to; he merely supports his assertion in
the one place by his assertion in the other?
Let us look, in the next place, to his other reference, which is to 1
Tim. vi. 1. Here, again, we find not the shadow of an authority that the
word in question is applicable to "hired servants," or "apprentices." We
simply meet the oft-repeated assertion of the author, that it is
applicable to _any_ species of servitude. He refers from assertion to
assertion, and nowhere gives a single authority to the point in
question. If we may believe him, such authorities are abundant, even in
the New Testament; yet he leaves the whole matter to rest upon his own
naked assertion! Yea, as Greek scholars, he would have us to believe
that [Greek: doulos] may mean a "hired servant," just as well as a
slave; and he would have us to believe this, too, not upon the usage of
Greek writers, but upon his mere assertion! We look for other evidence;
and we intend to pin him down to proof, ere we follow him in questions
of such momentous import as the one we have in hand.
Why is it, then, we ask the candid reader, if the term in question mean
"a hired servant," as well as a slave, that no such application of the
word is given? If such applications be as abundant as our author asserts
they are, why not refer us to a single instance, that our utter
ignorance may be at least relieved by one little ray of light? Why
refer us from assertion to assertion, if authorities may be so
plentifully had? We cannot conceive, unless the object be to deceive the
unwary, or those who may be willingly deceived. An assertion merely,
bolstered up with a "See note," here or there, may be enough for such;
but if, after all, there be nothing but assertion on assertion piled, we
shall not let it pass for proof. Especially, if such assertion be at war
with truth, we shall track its author, and, if possible, efface his
footprints from the immaculate word of God.
If the term [Greek: doulos] signifies "a hired servant," or "an
apprentice," it is certainly a most extraordinary circumstance that the
best lexicographers of the Greek language have not made the discovery.
This were the more wonderful, if, as Mr. Barnes asserts, the word "is
often used in these senses" by Greek writers. We have several Greek
lexicons before us, and in not one of them is there any such meaning
given to the word. Thus, in Donnegan, for example, we find: "[Greek:
doulos], a slave, a servant, as opposed to [Greek: despotês], a master."
But we do not find from him that it is ever applied to hired servants or
apprentices. In like manner, Liddell and Scott have "[Greek: doulos], a
_slave_, _bondman_, strictly one born so, opposed to [Greek:
andrapodon]." But they do not lay down "a hired servant," or "an
apprentice," as one of its significations. If such, indeed, be found
among the meanings of the word, these celebrated lexicographers were as
ignorant of the fact as ourselves. Stephens also, as any one may see by
referring to his "Thesaurus, Ling. Græc., Tom I. art. [Greek: Doulos],"
was equally ignorant of any such use of the term in question. Is it not
a pity, then, that, since such knowledge rested with Mr. Barnes, and
since, according to his own statement, proofs of its accuracy were so
abundant, he should have withheld all the evidence in his possession,
and left so important a point to stand or fall with his bare assertion?
Even if the rights of mankind had not been in question, the interests of
Greek literature were, one would think, sufficient to have induced him
to enlighten our best lexicographers with respect to the use of the word
under consideration. Such, an achievement would, we can assure him, have
detracted nothing from his reputation for scholarship.
But how stands the word in the New Testament? It is certain that,
however "often it may be applied" to hired servants in the New
Testament, Mr. Barnes has not condescended to adduce a single
application of the kind. This is not all. Those who have examined every
text of the New Testament in which the word [Greek: doulos] occurs, and
compiled lexicons especially for the elucidation of the sacred volume,
have found no such instance of its application.
Thus, Schleusner, in his Lexicon of the New Testament, tells us that it
means slave as opposed to, [Greek: eleutheros], _freeman_. His own words
are: [Greek: Doulos, ou, ho], (1) proprie: _servus, minister, homo non
liber nec sui juris_, et opponitur [Greek: tô eleutheros]. Matt. viii.
9; xiii. 27, 28; 1 Cor. vii. 21, 22; xii. 13; [Greek: eite douloi, eite
eleutheroi]. Tit. ii. 9."
We next appeal to Robinson's Lexicon of the New Testament. We there find
these words: "[Greek: doulos, ou, ho], _a bondman, slave, servant, pr.
by birth_; diff. from [Greek: andrapodon], 'one enslaved in war,' comp.
Xen. An., iv. 1, 12," etc. Now if, as Mr. Barnes asserts, the word in
question is so often applied to hired servants in the New Testament, is
it not passing strange that neither Schleusner nor Robinson should have
discovered any such application of it? So far, indeed, is Dr. Robinson
from having made any such discovery, that he expressly declares that the
[Greek: doulos] "WAS NEVER A HIRED SERVANT; _the latter being called_
[Greek: misthios, misthôtos]." "In a family," continues the same high
authority, "the [Greek: doulos] was _bound to serve, a slave_, and was
the property of his master, 'a living possession,' as Aristotle calls
him."
"The Greek [Greek: doulos]," says Dr. Smith, in his Dictionary of
Antiquities, "like the Latin _servus_, corresponds to the usual meaning
of our word slave. . . . . Aristotle (Polit. i. 3.) says that a complete
household is that which consists of slaves and freemen, ([Greek: oikia
de teleios ek doulôn kai eleutherôn],) and he defines a slave to be a
living working-tool and possession. ([Greek: Ho doulos empsychon,
organon], Ethic. Nicim. viii. 13; [Greek: ho doulos ktêma ti empsychon],
Pol. i. 4.) Thus Aristotle himself defines the [Greek: doulos] to be,
not a "servant of any kind," but a slave; and we presume that he
understood the force of this Greek word at least as well as Mr. Barnes
or Mr. Sumner. And Dr. Robinson, as we have just seen, declares that it
never means a hired servant.
Indeed, all this is so well understood by Greek scholars, that Dr.
Macknight does not hesitate to render the term [Greek: doulos], applied
to Onesimus in the Epistle to Philemon, by the English word _slave_. He
has not even added a footnote, as is customary with him when he deems
any other translation of a word than that given by himself at all worthy
of notice. In like manner, Moses Stuart just proceeds to call Onesimus
"the slave of Philemon," as if there could be no ground for doubt on so
plain a point. Such is the testimony of these two great Biblical
critics, who devoted their lives in great measure to the study of the
language, literature, and interpretation of the Epistles of the New
Testament.
Now, it should be observed, that not one of the authorities quoted by us
had any motive "to pervert texts," or "to invent authorities," "in
support of slavery." Neither Donnegan, nor Liddell and Scott, nor
Stephens, nor Schleusner, nor Robinson, nor Smith, nor Macknight, nor
Stuart, could possibly have had any such motive. If they were not all
perfectly unbiassed witnesses, it is certain they had no bias in favor
of slavery. It is, indeed, the abolitionist, and not the slaveholder,
who, in this case, "has perverted texts;" and if he has not "invented
authorities," it is because his attempts to do so have proved abortive.
Beside the clear and unequivocal import of the word applied to Onesimus,
it is evident, from other considerations, that he was the slave of
Philemon. To dwell upon all of these would, we fear, be more tedious
than profitable to the reader. Hence we shall confine our attention to a
single circumstance, which will, we think, be sufficient for any candid
or impartial inquirer after truth. Among the arguments used by St. Paul
to induce Philemon to receive his fugitive slave kindly, we find this:
"For perhaps he therefore departed _for a season_, that thou shouldest
receive him _forever_." This verse is thus paraphrased by Macknight: "To
mitigate thy resentment, consider, that _perhaps also for this reason he
was separated_ from thee _for a little while_, (so [Greek: pros hôran]
signified, 1 Thess. ii. 17, note 2,) _that thou mightest have him_ thy
slave _for life_." Dr. Macknight also adds, in a footnote: "By telling
Philemon that he would now have Onesimus forever, the apostle intimates
to him his firm persuasion that Onesimus would never any more run away
from him." Such seems to be the plain, obvious import of the apostle's
argument. No one, it is believed, who had no set purpose to subserve, or
no foregone conclusion to support, would view this argument in any other
light. Perhaps he was separated for a while as a slave, that "thou
mightest have him forever," or for life. How have him? Surely, one
would think, as a slave, or in the same capacity from which he was
separated for a while. The argument requires this; the opposition of the
words, and the force of the passage, imperatively require it. But yet,
if we may believe Mr. Barnes, the meaning of St. Paul is, that perhaps
Onesimus was separated for a while _as a servant_, that Philemon might
never receive him again as a servant, but forever as a Christian
brother! Lest we should be suspected of misrepresentation, we shall give
his own words. "The meaning is," says he, "that it was possible that
this was permitted in the providence of God, _in order_ that Onesimus
might be brought under the influence of the gospel, and be far more
serviceable to Philemon as a Christian than he could have been in his
former relation to him."
In the twelfth verse of the epistle, St. Paul says: "Whom I have sent
again," or, as Macknight more accurately renders the words, "Him I have
sent back," ([Greek: hon anepempsa].) Here we see the great apostle
_actually sending back a fugitive slave to his master_. That act of St.
Paul is not, and cannot be, denied. The words are too plain for denial.
Onesimus "_I have sent back_." Surely it cannot be otherwise than a most
unpleasant spectacle to abolitionist eyes thus to see Paul, the
aged--perhaps the most venerable and glorious hero whose life is upon
record--assume such an attitude toward the institution of slavery. Had
he dealt with slavery as he always dealt with every thing which he
regarded as sin; had he assumed toward it an attitude of stern and
uncompromising hostility, and had his words been thunderbolts of
denunciation, then indeed would he have been a hero after the very
hearts of the abolitionists. But, as it is, they have to _apologize_ for
the great apostle, and try, as best they may, to deliver him from his
_very equivocal position_! But if they are true apostles, and not false,
then, we fear, the best apology for his conduct is that he had never
read the Declaration of Independence, nor breathed the air of Boston.
This point, however, we shall not decide. We shall examine their
apologies, and let the candid reader decide for himself. St. Paul, it is
not denied, sent back Onesimus. But, says Mr. Barnes, he did not
_compel_ or _urge_ him to go. He did not send him back against his will.
Onesimus, no doubt, desired to return, and St. Paul was moved to send
him by his own request. Now, in the first place, this apology is built
on sheer assumption. There is not the slightest evidence that Onesimus
requested St. Paul to send him back to his master. "There may have been
many reasons," says Mr. Barnes, "why Onesimus desired to return to
Colosse, and no one can prove that he did not express that desire to St.
Paul, and that his 'sending' him was not in consequence of such
request." True; even if Onesimus had felt no such desire, and had
expressed no such desire to St. Paul, it would have been impossible, in
the very nature of things, for any one to prove such negatives, unless
he had been expressly informed on the subject by the writer of the
epistle. But is it not truly wonderful, that any one should, without the
least particle or shadow of evidence, be pleased to imagine a series of
propositions, and then call upon the opposite party to disprove them? Is
not such proceeding the very stuff that dreams are made of?
No doubt there may have been reasons why Onesimus should desire to
return to his master. There were certainly reasons, and reasons of
tremendous force, too, why he should have desired no such thing. The
fact that Philemon, whom he had offended by running away, had, according
to law, the power of life and death over him, is one of the reasons why
he should have dreaded to return. Hence, unless required by the apostle
to return, he _may_ have desired no such thing, and no one can prove
that an expression of such desire on his part was the ground of the
apostle's action. It is certain, that he who affirms should prove.
In the second place, if St. Paul were an abolitionist at heart, he
should have avoided the appearance of so great an evil. He should not,
for a moment, have permitted himself to stand before the world in the
simple and unexplained attitude of one who had sent back a fugitive
slave to his master. No honest abolitionist would permit himself to
appear in such a light. He would scorn to occupy such a position. Hence,
we repeat, if St. Paul were an abolitionist at heart, he should have let
it be known that, in sending Onesimus back, he was moved, not originally
by the principles of his own heart, but by the desire and request of the
fugitive himself. By such a course, he would have delivered himself from
a false position, and spared his friends among the abolitionists the
necessity of making awkward apologies for his conduct.
Thirdly, the positions of Mr. Barnes are not merely sheer assumptions;
they are perfectly gratuitous. For it is easy to explain the
determination of St. Paul to send Onesimus back, without having recourse
to the supposition that Onesimus desired him to do so. Such
determination was, indeed, the natural and necessary result of the well
known principles of the great apostle. He had repeatedly, and most
emphatically, inculcated the principle, that it is the duty of slaves to
"obey their masters," and to "count them worthy of all honor." This duty
Onesimus had clearly violated in running away from his master. If St.
Paul, then, had not taught Onesimus a different doctrine from that which
he had taught the churches, he must have felt that he had done wrong in
absconding from Philemon, and desired to repair the wrong by returning
to him. "It is," says Mr. Barnes, "by no means necessary to suppose that
Paul felt that Onesimus was under _obligation_ to return." But we must
suppose this, unless we suppose that Paul felt that Onesimus was under
no obligation to obey the precepts which he himself had delivered for
the guidance and direction of all Christian servants.
We shall now briefly notice a few other of Mr. Barnes' arguments, and
then dismiss this branch of the subject. "If St. Paul sent back
Onesimus," says he, "this was, doubtless, at his own request; for there
is not the slightest evidence that he _compelled_ him, or even urged
him, to go." We might just as well conclude that St. Paul first required
Onesimus to return, because there is not the slightest evidence that
Onesimus made any such request.
"Paul," says Mr. Barnes, "had no power to send Onesimus back to his
master unless he chose to go." This is very true. But still Onesimus may
have chosen to go, just because St. Paul, his greatest benefactor and
friend, had told him it was his duty to do so. He may have chosen to go,
just because the apostle had told him it is the duty of servants not to
run away from their masters, but to obey them, and count them worthy of
all honor. It is also true, that "there is not the slightest evidence
that he _compelled_ him, or even _urged_ him, to go." It is, on the
other hand, equally true, that there is not the slightest evidence that
any thing more than a bare expression of the apostle's opinion, or a
reiteration of his well-known sentiments, was necessary to induce him to
return.
"The language is just as would have been used," says our author, "on
the supposition, either that he requested him to go and bear a letter to
Colosse, or that Onesimus desired to go, and that Paul sent him
agreeably to his request. Compare Phil. ii. 25: 'Yet I suppose it
necessary _to send_ Epaphroditus, my brother, and companion in labor,'
etc.; Col. iv. 7, 8: 'All my estate shall Tychicus declare unto you, who
is a beloved brother, and a faithful minister and fellow-servant in the
Lord: whom I have _sent_ unto you for the same purpose, that he might
know your estate.' But Epaphroditus and Tychicus were not sent against
their own will,--nor is there any more reason to think that Onesimus
was." Now there is not the least evidence that either Epaphroditus or
Tychicus _requested_ the apostle to _send_ them as he did; and, so far
as appears from his statements, the whole thing originated with himself.
It is simply said that he _sent_ them. It is true, they were "not sent
against their own will," for they were ready and willing to obey his
directions. We have good reason, as we have seen, to believe that
precisely the same thing was true in regard to the sending of Onesimus.
But there is another case of _sending_ which Mr. Barnes has overlooked.
It is recorded in the same chapter of the same epistle which speaks of
the sending of Epaphroditus. We shall adduce it, for it is a case
directly in point. "But ye know the proof of him, (_i. e._ of Timothy,)
that, as a son with the father, he hath served with me in the gospel.
Him, therefore, I hope to _send_ presently, so soon as I shall see how
it will go with me." Now, here the apostle proposes to send Timothy, not
so soon as Timothy should request to be sent, but so soon as he should
see how it would go with himself as a prisoner at Rome. "As a son with
the father," so Timothy, after his conversion, served with the great
apostle, and, not against his own will, but most cheerfully, obeyed his
directions. And in precisely the same ineffably endearing relation did
Onesimus stand to the apostle. As a recent convert,--as a sincere and
humble Christian,--he naturally looked to his great inspired teacher for
advice, and was, no doubt, with more than filial affection, ready to
obey.
Hence, we insist that Paul was responsible for the return of Onesimus to
his master. He might have prevented his return, had he so desired; for
he tells us so himself, (ver. 13.) But he chose to send him back. And
why? Because Onesimus requested? The apostle says not so. "I would have
retained him with me," says he to Philemon, "that in thy stead he might
have ministered unto me in the bonds of the gospel. BUT WITHOUT THY MIND
WOULD I DO NOTHING." Nay, whatever may have been his own desires, or
those of Onesimus, he would do nothing without the mind of Philemon.
Such is the reason which the apostle assigns for his own conduct, for
his own determination not to retain the fugitive slave.
"What the apostle wrote to Philemon on this occasion is," says Dr.
Macknight, "highly worthy of notice; namely, that although he had great
need of an affectionate, honest servant to minister to him in his bonds,
such as Onesimus was, who had expressed a great inclination to stay with
him; and although, if Onesimus had remained with him, he would only have
discharged the duty which Philemon himself owed to his spiritual father,
yet the apostle would by no means detain Onesimus without Philemon's
leave, because it belonged to him to dispose of his own slave in the way
he thought proper. Such was the apostle's regard to justice, and to the
rights of mankind!"
According to Mr. Barnes, however, the apostle was governed in this
transaction, not by a regard to principle or the rights of mankind, but
by a regard for the feelings of the master! Just listen, for one moment,
to his marvellous discourse: "It is probable," says he, "that _if_
Onesimus had proposed to return, it would have been easy for Paul to
have retained him with him. He might have represented his own want of a
friend. He might have appealed to his gratitude on account of his
efforts for his conversion. He might have shown him that he was under no
moral obligation to go back. He might have refused to give him this
letter, and might have so represented to him the dangers of the way, and
the probability of a harsh reception, as effectually to have dissuaded
him from such a purpose. But, in that case, it is clear that this might
have caused hard feeling in the bosom of Philemon, and rather than do
that, he preferred to let him return to his master, and to plead for him
that he might have a kind reception. It is, therefore, by no means
necessary to suppose that Paul felt that Onesimus was under _obligation_
to return, or that he was disposed to _compel_ him, or that Onesimus was
not inclined to return voluntarily; but all the circumstances of the
case are met by the supposition that, if Paul had retained him, Philemon
might conceive that he had injured _him_."
Alas! that so much truth should have been suppressed; and that, too, by
the most glorious champion of truth the world has ever seen. He tells
not his "son Onesimus" that he is under no moral obligation to return to
his master. On the contrary, he leaves him ignorant of his rights--of
his inherent, sacred, and eternal rights. He sees him blindly put off
"the hero," and put on "the brute" again. And why? Because, forsooth, if
he should only speak, _he might cause hard feeling in the bosom of his
master_! Should he retain Onesimus, his son, he would not injure
Philemon at all. But then Philemon "might _conceive_" that he had
injured him. Ah! when will abolitionist again suppress such mighty
truth, lest he disturb some _fancied_ right, or absurd feeling ruffle?
When the volcano of his mind suppress and keep its furious fires in,
lest he consume some petty despot's despicable sway; or else, at least,
touch his tender sensibilities with momentary pain? "_Fiat justitia,
ruat coelum_," is a favorite maxim with other abolitionists. But St.
Paul, it seems, could not assume quite so lofty a tone. He could not
say, "Let justice be done, though the heavens should fall." He could not
even say, "Let justice be done," though the feelings of Philemon should
be hurt.
It is evident, we think, that St. Paul needs to be defended against Mr.
Barnes' defenses of him, and vindicated against his apologies. If,
indeed, he were so pitiful a pleader of "the innocent cause" as Mr.
Barnes would have us to believe he is, then, we ask if those
abolitionists are not in the right who despise both the apostle and his
doctrine? No other abolitionist, it is certain, will ever imitate his
example, as that example is represented by Mr. Barnes. No other
abolitionist will ever suppress the great truths--as he conceives them
to be--with which his soul is on fire, and which, in his view, lie at
the foundation of human happiness, lest he should "cause hard feelings"
in the bosom of a slaveholder.
It may be said, perhaps, that the remarks and apology of Mr. Barnes do
not proceed on the supposition that Onesimus was a slave. If so, the
answer is at hand. For surely Mr. Barnes cannot think it would have been
dishonorable in the apostle to advise, or even to urge, "a hired
servant," or "an apprentice," to return and fulfill his contract. It is
evident that, although Mr. Barnes would have the reader to believe that
Onesimus was merely a hired servant or an apprentice, he soon forgets
his own interpretation, and proceeds to reason just as if he himself
regarded him as a slave. This, if possible, will soon appear still more
evident.
The apostle did not, according to Mr. Barnes, wholly conceal his
abolition sentiments. He made them known to Philemon. Yes, we are
gravely told, the letter which Onesimus carried in his pocket, as he
wended his way back from Rome to Colosse, was and is an emancipation
document! This great discovery is, we believe, due to the abolitionists
of the present day. It was first made by Mr. Barnes, or Dr. Channing, or
some other learned emancipationist, and after them by Mr. Sumner.
Indeed, the discovery that it appears from the face of the epistle
itself that it is an emancipation document, is the second of the two
"conclusive things" which, in Mr. Sumner's opinion, constitute "an
all-sufficient response" to anti-abolitionists.
Now supposing St. Paul to have been an abolitionist, such a disclosure
of his views would, we admit, afford some little relief to our minds.
For it would show that, although he did not provoke opposition by
proclaiming the truth to the churches and to the world, he could at
least run the risk of hurting the feelings of a slaveholder. But let us
look into this great discovery, and see if the apostle has, in reality,
whispered any such words of emancipation in the ear of Philemon.
In his note to the sixteenth verse of the epistle, Mr. Barnes says: "Not
now as a servant. The adverb rendered 'not now,' ([Greek: _ouketi_])
means _no more_, _no further_, _no longer_." So let it be. We doubt not
that such is its meaning. Hence, we need not examine Mr. Barnes'
numerous authorities, to show that such is the force of the adverb in
question. He has, we admit, most abundantly established his point that
[Greek: _ouketi_] means _no longer_. But then this is a point which no
anti-abolitionist has the least occasion to deny. We find precisely the
same rendition in Macknight, and we are perfectly willing to abide by
his translation. If Mr. Barnes had spared himself the trouble of
producing these authorities, and adduced only one to show that [Greek:
_doulos_] means _a hired servant_, or _an apprentice_, his labor would
have been bestowed where it is needed.
As the passage stands, then, St. Paul exhorts Philemon to receive
Onesimus, "no longer as a servant." Now this, we admit, is perfectly
correct _as far as it goes_. "It (_i. e._ this adverb) implies," says
Mr. Barnes, "that he had been in this condition, _but was not to be
now_." He was _no longer_ to be a servant! Over this view of the
passage, Mr. Sumner goes into quite a paroxysm of triumphant joy.
"Secondly," says he, "in charging Onesimus with this epistle to
Philemon, the apostle announces him as 'not now a servant, but above a
servant,--a brother beloved;' and he enjoins upon his correspondent the
hospitality due only to a freeman, saying expressly, 'If thou count me,
therefore, as a partner, _receive him as myself_;' ay, sir, not as
slave, not even as servant, but as a brother beloved, even as the
apostle himself. Thus with apostolic pen wrote Paul to his disciple
Philemon. Beyond all doubt, in these words of gentleness, benediction,
and EMANCIPATION,[173] dropping with celestial, soul-awakening power,
there can be no justification for a conspiracy, which, beginning with
the treachery of Iscariot, and the temptation of pieces of silver, seeks
by fraud, brutality, and violence, through officers of the law armed to
the teeth like pirates, and amid soldiers who degrade their uniform, to
hurl a fellow-man back into the lash-resounding den of American slavery;
and if any one can thus pervert this beneficent example, allow me to say
that he gives too much occasion to doubt his intelligence or his
sincerity."
Now in regard to the spirit of this passage we have at present nothing
to say. The sudden transition from the apostle's "words of blessing and
benediction," to Mr. Sumner's words of railing and vituperation, we
shall pass by unnoticed. Upon these the reader may make his own
comments. It is our object simply to comment on the words of the great
apostle. And, in the first place, we venture to suggest that there are
several very serious difficulties in the way of Mr. Barnes' and Mr.
Sumner's interpretation of the passage in question.
Let us, for the sake of argument, concede to these gentlemen that
Onesimus was merely the hired servant, or apprentice, of Philemon. What
then follows? If they are not in error, it clearly and unequivocally
follows that St. Paul's "words of emancipation" were intended, not for
slaves merely, but for hired servants and apprentices! For servants of
any and every desrciption! Mr. Sumner expressly tells us that he was to
return, "not as a slave, _not even as a servant_, but as a brother
beloved." Now such a scheme of emancipation would, it seems to us, suit
the people of Boston as little as it would those of Richmond. It would
abolish every kind of "servitude, whether voluntary or involuntary," and
release all hired servants, as well as apprentices, from the obligation
of their contracts. Such is one of the difficulties in their way. It may
not detract from the "sincerity," it certainly reflects no credit on the
"intelligence," of Mr. Sumner, to be guilty of such an oversight.
There is another very grave difficulty in the way of these gentlemen.
St. Paul writes that the servant Onesimus, who had been unprofitable to
Philemon in times past, would now be profitable to him. But how
profitable? As a servant? No! he was no longer to serve him at all. His
"emancipation" was announced! He was to be received, not as a slave, not
even as a servant, but _only_ as a brother beloved! Philemon was,
indeed, to extend to him the hospitalities due to a freeman, even such
as were due to the apostle himself? Now, for aught we know, it may have
been very agreeable to the feelings of Philemon, to have his former
servant thus unceremoniously "emancipated," and quartered upon him as "a
gentleman of elegant leisure;" but how this could have been so
_profitable_ to him is more than we can conceive.
It must be admitted, we think, that in a worldly point of view, all the
profits would have been on the side of Onesimus. "But," says Mr. Barnes,
"he would now be more profitable as a Christian brother." It is true,
Onesimus had not been very profitable as a Christian brother before he
ran away, for he had not been a Christian brother at all. But if he were
sent back by the apostle, because he would be profitable merely as a
Christian brother, we cannot see why any other Christian brother would
not have answered the purpose just as well as Onesimus. If such, indeed,
were the apostle's object, he might have conferred a still greater
benefit upon Philemon by sending several Christian brethren to live with
him, and to feast upon his good things.
Thirdly, the supposition that St. Paul thus announced the emancipation
of Onesimus, is as inconsistent with the whole scope and design of the
passage, as it is with the character of the apostle. If he would do
nothing without the consent of Philemon, not even retain his servant to
minister to himself while in prison, much less would he declare him
emancipated, and introduce him to his former master as a freeman. We
submit to the candid reader, we submit to every one who has the least
perception of the character and spirit of the apostle, if such an
interpretation of his words be not simply ridiculous.