It is certain that such an interpretation is peculiar to abolitionists.

"Men," says Mr. Sumner, "are prone to find in uncertain, disconnected

texts, a confirmation of their own personal prejudices or

prepossessions. And I,"--he continues, "who am no divine, but only a

simple layman--make bold to say, that whosoever finds in the gospel any

sanction of slavery, finds there merely a reflection of himself." He

must have been a very simple layman indeed, if he did not perceive how

very easily his words might have been retorted. We venture to affirm

that no one, except an abolitionist, has ever found the slightest

tincture of abolitionism in the writings of the great apostle to the

Gentiles.

The plain truth is, that Philemon is exhorted to receive Onesimus "no

longer as a slave ONLY, but above a slave,--a brother beloved." Such is

the translation of Macknight, and such, too, is the concurrent voice of

every commentator to whom we have access. Pool, Clarke, Scott, Benson,

Doddridge--all unite in the interpretation that Onesimus was, in the

heaven-inspired and soul-subduing words of the loving apostle, commended

to his master, not as a slave _merely_, but also as a Christian brother.

The great fact--the "words of emancipation," which Mr. Sumner sees so

clearly on "the face of the epistle,"--they cannot see at all. Neither

sign nor shadow of any such thing can they perceive. It is a sheer

reflection of the abolitionist himself. Thus, the Old Testament is not

only merged in the New, but the New itself is merged in Mr. Charles

Sumner, of Massachusetts.

We shall notice one passage more of Scripture. The seventh chapter of

the Epistle to the Corinthians begins thus: "Now concerning the things

whereof ye wrote unto me;" and it proceeds to notice, among other

things, the relation of master and slave. This passage was designed to

correct the disorders among the Christian slaves at Corinth, who,

agreeably to the doctrine of the false teacher, _claimed their liberty,

on pretense that, as brethren in Christ, they were on an equality with

their Christian masters_." Here, then, St. Paul met abolitionism face

to face. And how did he proceed? Did he favor the false teacher? Did he

recognize the claim of the discontented Christian slaves? Did he even

once hint that they were entitled to their freedom, on the ground that

all men are equal, or on any other ground whatever? His own words will

furnish the best answer to these questions.

"Let every man," says he, "abide in the same calling wherein he was

called. Art thou called, being a servant? _care not for it._" Thus, were

Christian slaves exhorted to continue in that condition of life in which

they were when converted to Christianity. This will not be denied. It is

too plain for controversy. It is even admitted by Mr. Barnes himself. In

the devout contemplation of this passage Chrysostom exclaims: "Hast thou

been called, being a slave? Care not for it. Continue to be a slave.

Hast thou been called, being in uncircumcision? Remain uncircumcised.

Being circumcised, didst thou become a believer? Continue circumcised.

For these are no hindrances to piety. Thou are called, being a slave;

another, with an unbelieving wife; another, being circumcised.

[Astonishing! Where has he put slavery?] As circumcision profits not,

and uncircumcision does no harm, so neither doth slavery nor yet

liberty."

"The great argument" against slavery is, according to Dr. Channing and

other abolitionists, drawn from the immortality of the soul. "Into every

human being," says he, "God has breathed an immortal spirit, more

precious than the whole outward creation. No earthly nor celestial

language can exaggerate the worth of a human being." The powers of this

immortal spirit, he concludes, "reduce to insignificance all outward

distinctions." Yea, according to St. Paul himself, they reduce to utter

insignificance all outward distinctions, and especially the distinction

between liberty and slavery. "Art thou called," says he, "being a slave?

care not for it." Art thou, indeed, the Lord's freeman and _as such_

destined to reign on a throne of glory forever? Oh, then, care not for

the paltry distinctions of the passing world!

Now, whom shall the Christian teacher take for his model?--St. Paul, or

Dr. Channing? Shall he seek to make men contented with the condition in

which God has placed them, or shall he stir up discontent, and inflame

the restless passions of men? Shall he himself, like the great apostle,

be content to preach the doctrines of eternal life to a perishing

world; or shall he make politics his calling, and inveigh against the

domestic relations of society? Shall he exhort men not to continue in

the condition of life in which God has placed them, but to take his

providence out of his hands, and, _in [Greek: ]direct opposition to his

word_, assert their rights? In one word, shall he preach the gospel of

Christ and his apostles, or shall he preach the gospel of the

abolitionist?

"Art thou called, being a servant? care not for it; but if thou mayest

be made free, use it rather." The Greek runs thus: [Greek: _all' ei kai

dunasai eleutheros genesthai, mallon chrêsai_],--literally, "but even if

thou canst become free, rather make use of." Make use of what? The Greek

verb is left without a case. How, then, shall this be applied? To what

does the ambiguous _it_ of our translation refer? "One and all of the

native Greek commentators in the early ages," says Stuart, "and many

expositors in modern times, say that the word to be supplied is [Greek:

_douleia_], i. e. _slavery, bondage_. The reason which they give for it

is, that this is the only construction which can support the proposition

the apostle is laboring to establish, viz.: 'Let every man abide in

_statu quo_.' Even De Wette, (who, for his high liberty notions, was

banished from Germany,) in his commentary on this passage, seems plainly

to accede to the force of this reasoning; and with him many others have

agreed. No man can look at the simple continuity of logic in the passage

without feeling that there is force in the appeal." Yet the fact should

not be concealed, that Stuart himself is "not satisfied with this

exegesis of the passage;" which, according to his own statement, was the

universal interpretation from "the early ages" down to the sixteenth

century. This change, says he, "seems to have been the spontaneous

prompting of the spirit of liberty, that beat high" in the bosom of its

author.

Now have we not some reason to distrust an interpretation which comes

not exactly from Heaven, but from a spirit beating high in the human

breast? _That_ is certainly not an unerring spirit. We have already seen

what it can do with the Scriptures. But whether it has erred in this

instance, or not, it is certain that it should never be permitted to

beat so very high in any human breast as to annul the teachings of the

apostle, or to make him contradict himself. This has been too often

done. We too frequently hear those who admit that St. Paul exhorts

"slaves to continue in slavery," still contend that "if they may be

made free," they should move heaven and earth to attain so desirable an

object. They "should continue in that state," and yet exert all their

power to escape therefrom!

Conybeare and Howson, who are acknowledged to be among the best

commentators of the Epistles of St. Paul, have restored "the continuity

of his logic." They translate his words thus: "Nay, though thou have

power to gain thy freedom, seek rather to remain content." This

translation certainly possesses the advantage that it makes the doctrine

of St. Paul perfectly consistent with itself.

But let us return to the point in regard to which there is no

controversy. It is on all sides agreed, that St. Paul no less than three

times exhorts every man to continue in the condition in which Providence

has placed him. "And this rule," says he, "ordain I in all the

churches." Yet--would any man believe it possible?--the very

quintessence of abolitionism itself has been extracted from this passage

of his writings! Let us consider for a moment the wonderful alchemy by

which this has been effected.

We find in this passage the words: "Be not ye the servants of men."

These words are taken from the connection in which they stand,

dissevered from the words which precede and follow them, and then made

to teach that slaves should not submit to the authority of their

masters, should not continue in their present condition. It is certain

that no one but an abolitionist, who has lost all respect for revelation

except when it happens to square with his own notions, could thus make

the apostle so directly and so flatly contradict himself and all his

teaching. Different interpretations have been given to the words just

quoted; but until abolitionism set its cloven foot upon the Bible, such

violence had not been done to its sacred pages.

Conybeare and Howson suppose that the words in question are intended to

caution the Corinthians against "their servile adherence to party

leaders." Bloomfield, in like manner, says: "The best commentators are

agreed," that they are "to be taken figuratively, in the sense, 'do not

be blindly followers of men, conforming to their opinions,' etc." It is

certain that Rosenmüller, Grotius, and we know not how many more, have

all concurred in this interpretation. But be the meaning what it may,

_it is not_ an exhortation to slaves to burst their bonds in sunder,

unless the apostle has, in one and the same breath, taught

diametrically opposite doctrines.

Yet, in direct opposition to the plain words of the apostle, and to the

concurrent voice of commentators and critics, is he made to teach that

slaves should throw off the authority of their masters! Lest such a

thing should be deemed impossible, we quote the words of the author by

whom this outrage has been perpetrated. "The command of the 23d verse,"

says he, "'be not ye the servants of men,' is equally plain. There are

no such commands uttered in regard to the relations of husband and wife,

parent and child, as are here given in regard to slavery. _No one is

thus urged to dissolve the marriage relation. No such commands are given

to relieve children from obedience to their parents_," etc.[174] Nor is

any such command, we repeat, given to relieve slaves from obedience to

their masters, or to dissolve the relation between them.

If such violence to Scripture had been done by an obscure scribbler, or

by an infidel quoting the word of God merely for a purpose, it would not

have been matter of such profound astonishment. But is it not

unspeakably shocking that a Christian man, nay, that a Christian

minister and doctor of divinity, should thus set at naught the clearest,

the most unequivocal, and the most universally received teachings of the

gospel? If he had merely accused the Christian man of the South, as he

has so often done in his two stupid volumes on slavery, of the crimes of

"swindling," of "theft," of "robbing," and of "manstealing," we could

have borne with him well; and, as we have hitherto done, continued to

pass by his labors with silent contempt. But we have deemed it important

to show in what manner, and to what extent, the spirit of abolitionism

can wrest the pure word of God to its antichristian purpose.

We shall conclude the argument from scripture with the following just

and impressive testimony of the Princeton Review: "The mass of the pious

and thinking people in this country are neither abolitionists nor the

advocates of slavery. They stand where they ever have stood--on the

broad Scriptural foundation; maintaining the obligation of all men, in

their several places and relations, to act on the law of love, and to

promote the spiritual and temporal welfare of others by every means in

their power. They stand aloof from the abolitionists for various

reasons. In the first place, they disapprove of their principles. The

leading characteristic doctrine of this sect is that slaveholding is in

all cases a sin, and should, therefore, under all circumstances, be

immediately abandoned. _As nothing can be plainer than that slaveholders

were admitted to the Christian church by the inspired apostles, the

advocates of this doctrine are brought into direct collision with the

Scriptures. This leads to one of the most dangerous evils connected with

the whole system, viz., a disregard of the authority of the word of God,

a setting up a different and higher standard of truth and duty, and a

proud and confident wresting of Scripture to suit their own purposes._

THE HISTORY OF INTERPRETATION FURNISHES NO EXAMPLES OF MORE WILLFUL AND

VIOLENT PERVERSIONS OF THE SACRED TEXT THAN ARE TO BE FOUND IN THE

WRITINGS OF THE ABOLITIONISTS. THEY SEEM TO CONSIDER THEMSELVES ABOVE

THE SCRIPTURES; AND WHEN THEY PUT THEMSELVES ABOVE THE LAW OF GOD, IT IS

NOT WONDERFUL THAT THEY SHOULD DISREGARD THE LAWS OF MEN. Significant

manifestations of the result of this disposition to consider their own

light a surer guide than the word of God, are visible in the anarchical

opinions about human governments, civil and ecclesiastical, and on the

rights of women, which have found appropriate advocates in the abolition

publications. Let these principles be carried out, and there is an end

to all social subordination, to all security for life and property, to

all guarantee for public or domestic virtue. If our women are to be

emancipated from subjection to the law which God has imposed upon them,

if they are to quit the retirement of domestic life, where they preside

in stillness over the character and destiny of society; if they are to

come forth in the liberty of men, to be our agents, our public

lecturers, our committee-men, our rulers; if, in studied insult to the

authority of God, we are to renounce in the marriage contract all claim

to obedience, we shall soon have a country over which the genius of Mary

Wolstonecraft would delight to preside, but from which all order and all

virtue would speedily be banished. There is no form of human excellence

before which we bow with profounder deference than that which appears in

a delicate woman, adorned with the inward graces and devoted to the

peculiar duties of her sex; and there is no deformity of human

character from which we turn with deeper loathing than from a woman

forgetful of her nature, and clamorous for the vocation and rights of

men. It would not be fair to object to the abolitionists the disgusting

and disorganizing opinions of even some of their leading advocates and

publications, did they not continue to patronize those publications, and

were not these opinions the legitimate consequences of their own

principles. Their women do but apply their own method of dealing with

Scripture to another case. This no inconsiderable portion of the party

have candor enough to acknowledge, and are therefore prepared to abide

the result."

FOOTNOTES:

[163] Lev. xxv. 44, 45, 56.

[164] Lev. xxv. 44, 45, 46.

[165] Exod. xxi. 20, 21.

[166] Exod. xxi. 7, 8.

[167] Deut. xxiii. 15, 16.

[168] Moses Stewart, a divine of Massachusetts, who had devoted a long

and laborious life to the interpretation of Scripture, and who was by no

means a friend to the institution of slavery.

[169] Speech in the Metropolitan Theatre, 1855.

[170] Speech at the Metropolitan Theatre, 1855.

[171] Fools may hope to escape responsibility by such a cry. But if

there be any truth in moral science, than every man should examine and

decide, or else forbear to act.

[172] The Italics are ours.

[173] The emphasis is ours.

[174] Elliott on Slavery, vol. i. p. 205.

CHAPTER IV.

THE ARGUMENT FROM THE PUBLIC GOOD.

The Question--Emancipation in the British

Colonies--The manner in which Emancipation has

ruined the British Colonies--The great benefit

supposed, by American Abolitionists, to result to

the freed Negroes from the British Act of

Emancipation--The Consequences of Abolition to the

South--Elevation of the Blacks by Southern

Slavery.

WE have not shunned the abstractions of the abolitionist. We have, on

the contrary, examined all his arguments, even the most abstract, and

endeavored to show that they either rest on false assumptions, or

consist in false deductions. While engaged in this analysis of his

errors, we have more than once had occasion to remind him that the great

practical problem of slavery is to be determined, if determined at all,

not by an appeal to abstractions, but simply by a consideration of the

public good. It is under this point of view, or with reference to the

highest good of the governed, that we now proceed to consider the

institution of slavery.

The way is open and clear for this view of the subject. For we have

seen, we trust, that slavery is condemned neither by any principle of

natural justice, nor by any precept of divine revelation. On the other

hand, if we mistake not, it has been most clearly shown that the

doctrines and practices of the abolitionist are at war with the most

explicit words of God, as well as with the most unquestionable

principles of political ethics. Hence, without the least disrespect to

the eternal principles of right, we may now proceed to subject his

doctrines to the only remaining test of political truth, namely, _to the

test of experience_. Having examined the internal qualities of the tree

and found them bad, we may now proceed to inquire if "its fruits" be not

poison. And if the sober lessons of history, if the infallible records

of experience, be found in perfect harmony with the conclusions of

reason and of revelation, then shall we not be triply justified in

pronouncing abolitionism a social and a moral curse?

§ I. _The Question._

Here, at the outset, we may throw aside a mass of useless verbiage, with

which our inquiry is usually encumbered. We are eternally told that

Kentucky has fallen behind Ohio, and Virginia behind Pennsylvania,

because their energies have been crippled, and their prosperity

over-clouded, by the institution of slavery. Now, it is of no importance

to our argument that we should either deny the fact, or the explanation

which is given of it by abolitionists. If the question were, whether

slavery should be introduced among us, or into any non-slaveholding

State, then such facts and explanations would be worthy of our notice.

Then such an appeal to experience would be relevant to the point in

dispute. But such is not the question. We are not called upon to decide

whether slavery shall be established in our midst or not. This question

has been decided for us. Slavery--as every body knows--was forced upon

the colonies by the arbitrary and despotic rule of Great Britain, and

that, too, against the earnest remonstrances of our ancestors. The thing

has been done. The past is beyond our control. It is fixed and

unalterable. The only inquiry which remains for us now is, whether the

slavery which was thus forced upon our ancestors shall be continued, or

whether it shall be abolished? The question is not what Virginia, or

Kentucky, or any other slave State, _might_ have been, but what they

would be in case slavery were abolished. If abolitionists would speak to

the point, then let them show us some country in which slavery has been

abolished, and we will abide by the experiment. Fortunately for us, we

need not look far for such an experiment;--an experiment which has been

made, not upon mere chattels or brutes, but upon the social and moral

well-being of more than a million of human beings. We refer, of course,

to the emancipation of the slaves in the British colonies. This work, as

every one knows, was the great vaunted achievement of British

abolitionists. Here, then, we may see their philosophy--if philosophy it

may be called--"teaching by example." Here we may see and taste the

fruits of abolitionism, ere we conclude to grow them upon our own soil.

§ II. _Emancipation in the British Colonies._

It is scarcely in the power of human language to describe the

enthusiastic delight with which the abolitionists, both in England and

in America, were inspired by the spectacle of West India Emancipation.

We might easily adduce a hundred illustrations of the almost frantic joy

with which it intoxicated their brains. We shall, however, for the sake

of brevity, confine our attention to a single example,--which will, at

the same time, serve to show, not only how wild the abolitionist himself

was, but also how indignant he became that others were not equally

disposed to part with their sober senses. "The prevalent state of

feeling," said Dr. Channing in 1840, "in the free States in regard to

slavery is indifference--an indifference strengthened by the notion of

great difficulties attending the subject. The fact is painful, but the

truth should be spoken. The majority of the people, even yet, care

little about the matter. A painful proof of this insensibility was

furnished about a year and a half ago, when the English West Indies were

emancipated. An event surpassing this in moral grandeur is not recorded

in history. In one day, probably seven hundred thousand of human beings

were rescued from bondage to full, unqualified freedom. The

consciousness of wrongs, in so many breasts, was exchanged into

rapturous, grateful joy. What shouts of thanksgiving broke forth from

those liberated crowds! What new sanctity and strength were added to the

domestic ties! What new hopes opened on future generations! The crowning

glory of this day was the fact that the work of emancipation was wholly

due to the principles of Christianity. The West Indies were freed, not

by force, or human policy, but by the reverence of a great people for

justice and humanity. The men who began and carried on this cause were

Christian philanthropists; and they prevailed by spreading their own

spirit through a nation. In this respect, the emancipation of the West

Indies was a grander work than the redemption of the Israelites from

bondage. This was accomplished by force, by outward miracles, by the

violence of the elements. That was achieved by love, by moral power, by

God, working, not in the stormy seas, but in the depths of the human

heart. And how was this day of emancipation--one of the most blessed

days that ever dawned upon the earth--received in this country? While in

distant England a thrill of gratitude and joy pervaded thousands and

millions, we, the neighbors of the West Indies, and who boast of our

love of liberty, saw the sun of that day rise and set with hardly a

thought of the scenes on which it was pouring its joyful light. The

greater part of our newspapers did not refer to the event. The great

majority of the people had forgotten it. Such was the testimony we gave

to our concern for the poor slave; and is it from discussions of slavery

among such a people that the country is to be overturned?"

Such were the glowing expectations of the abolitionists. It now remains

to be seen whether they were true prophets, or merely "blind leaders of

the blind." Be that as it may, for the present we cannot agree with Dr.

Channing, that the good people of the free States were insincere in

boasting of their "love of liberty," because they did not go into

raptures over so fearful an experiment before they had some little time

to see how it would work. They did, no doubt, most truly and profoundly

love liberty. But then they had some reason to suspect, perhaps, that

liberty may be one thing, and abolitionism quite another. Liberty, they

knew, was a thing of light and love; but as for abolitionism, it was,

for all they knew, a demon of destruction. Hence they would wait, and

see. We do well to rejoice at once, exclaims Dr. Channing. If a

man-child is born into the world, says he, do we wait to read his future

life ere we rejoice at his birth? Ah, no! But then, perhaps, this

offspring of abolitionism is no man-child at all. It may, for aught we

know, be an abortion of night and darkness merely. Hence, we shall wait,

and mark his future course, ere we rend the air with shouts that he is

born at last.

This man-child, or this monster, is now seventeen years and four months

old. His character is developed, and fixed for life. We may now read

his history, written by impartial men, and determine for ourselves,

whether it justifies the bright and boundless hopes of the

abolitionists, or the "cold indifference," nay, the suspicions and the

fears, of the good people of the free States.

We shall begin with Jamaica, which is by far the largest and most

valuable of the British West Indies. The very first year after the

complete emancipation of the slaves of this island, its prosperity began

to manifest symptoms of decay. As long as it was possible, however, to

find or invent an explanation of these fearful signs, the abolitionists

remained absolutely blind to the real course of events. In 1839, the

first year of complete emancipation, it appeared that the crop of sugar

exported from the island had fallen off no less than eight thousand four

hundred and sixty-six hogsheads. But, then, it was discovered that the

hogsheads had been larger this year than the preceding! It is true,

there was not exactly any proof that larger hogsheads had been used all

over the island, but it was rumored; and the rumor was, of course,

eagerly swallowed by the abolitionists.

And besides, it was quite certain that the free negroes had eaten more

sugar than while they were slaves, which helped mightily to account for

the great diminution in the exports of the article. No one could deny

this. It is certain, that if the free negroes only devoured sugar as

eagerly as such floating conjectures were gulped down by the

abolitionists, the whole phenomenon needed no other cause for its

perfect explanation. It never once occured, however, to these reasoners

to imagine that the decrease in the amount of rum exported from another

island _might_ be owing to the circumstance that the free blacks had

swallowed a little more of that article as well as of sugar. On the

contrary, this fact was held up as a most conclusive and triumphant

proof that the free negroes had not only become temperate themselves,

but also so virtuous that they scorned to produce such an article to

poison their fellow-men. The English abolitionists who rejoiced at such

a reflection were, it must be confessed, standing on rather delicate

ground. For if such an inference proved any thing, it proved that the

blacks of the island in question had, at one single bound, passed from

the depths of degradation to an exaltation of virtue far above their

emancipators, the English people themselves; since these, as every

reader of history knows, not only enforced the culture of opium in

India, but also absolutely compelled the poor Chinese to receive it at

the mouth of the cannon!

It also appears that, for 1839, the amount of coffee exported had fallen

off 38,554 cwt., or about one third of the whole amount of the preceding

year. "The coffee is a very uncertain crop," said a noted English

emancipationist, in view of this startling fact, "and the deficiency, on

the comparison of these two years, is not greater, I believe, than has

often occurred before." This is true, for a drought or a hurricane had

before created quite as great a deficiency. But while the fact is true,

it only proves that the first year of emancipation was no worse on the

coffee crop than a drought or a hurricane.

"We should also remember," says this zealous abolitionist, "that, both

in sugar and coffee, the profit to the planter may be increased by the

saving of expense, even where the produce is diminished." Such a thing,

we admit, is possible; it _may_ be true. But _in point of fact_, as we

shall soon see, the expense was increased, while the crop was

diminished.

But after every possible explanation, even Dr. Channing and Mr. Gurney

were bound to admit "that some decrease has taken place in both the

articles, in connection with the change of system." They also admitted

that "so far as this decrease of produce is connected with the change of

system, _it is obviously to be traced to a corresponding decrease in the

quantity of labor_."

May we not suppose, then, that here the ingenuity of man is at an end,

and the truth begins to be allowed to make its appearance? By no means.

For here "comes the critical question,"--says Mr. Gurney, "the real

turning point. To what is this decrease in the quantity of labor owing?

I answer deliberately but without reserve, '_Mainly_ to causes which

class under slavery and not under freedom.' It is, for the most part,

the result of those impolitic attempts to force the labor of freemen

which have disgusted the peasantry, and have led to the desertion of

many of the estates."

Now suppose this were the case, is it not the business, is it not the

duty, of the legislator to consider the passions, the prejudices, and

the habits of those for whom he legislates? Indeed, if he overlook

these, is he not a reckless experimenter rather than a wise statesman?

If he legislates, not for man as he _is_, but for man as he _ought to

be_, is he not a political dreamer rather than a sound philosopher?

The abolitionist not only closed his eyes on every appearance of decline

in the prosperity of the West Indies, he also seized with avidity every

indication of the successful operation of his scheme, and magnified it

both to himself and to the world. He made haste, in particular, to paint

in the most glowing colors the rising prosperity of Jamaica.[175] His

narrative was hailed with eager delight by abolitionists in all parts of

the civilized world. It is a pity, we admit, to spoil so fine a story,

or to put a damper on so much enthusiasm. But the truth, especially in a

case like the present, should be told. While, then, to the enchanted

imagination of the abolitionist, the wonderful industry of the freed

negroes and the exuberant bounty of nature were concurring to bring

about a paradise in the island of Jamaica, the dark stream of

emancipation was, in reality, undermining its prosperity and glory. We

shall now proceed to adduce the evidence of this melancholy fact, which

has in a few short years become so abundant and so overwhelming, that

even the most blind and obstinate must feel its force.

After describing the immense sources of wealth to be found in Jamaica,

an intelligent eye-witness says: "Such are some of the natural resources

of this dilapidated and poverty-stricken country. Capable as it is of

producing almost every thing, and actually producing nothing which might

not become a staple with a proper application of capital and skill, its

inhabitants are miserably poor, and daily sinking deeper into the utter

helplessness of abject want.

"'Magnas inter opes inops.'

"Shipping has deserted her ports; her magnificent plantations of sugar

and coffee are running to weeds; her private dwellings are falling to

decay; the comforts and luxuries which belong to industrial prosperity

have been cut off, one by one, from her inhabitants; and the day, I

think, is at hand when there will be none left to represent the wealth,

intelligence, and hospitality for which the Jamaica planter was once

distinguished."[176]

"It is impossible," says Mr. Carey, "to read Mr. Bigelow's volume,

without arriving at the conclusion that the freedom granted to the negro

has had little effect except that of enabling him to live at the expense

of the planter so long as any thing remained. Sixteen years of freedom

did not appear to its author to have 'advanced the dignity of labor or

of the laboring classes one particle,' while it had ruined the

proprietors of the land, and thus great damage had been done to the one

class without benefit of any kind to the other.

From a statistical table, published in August, 1853, it appears, says

one of our northern journals, that, since 1846, "the number of sugar

estates on the island that have been totally abandoned amounts to one

hundred and sixty-eight, and the number partially abandoned to

sixty-three; the value of which two hundred and thirty-one estates was

assessed, in 1841, at £1,655,140, or nearly eight millions and a half of

dollars. Within the same period two hundred and twenty-three

coffee-plantations have been totally, and twenty partially, abandoned,

the assessed value of which was, in 1841, £500,000, or two millions and

a half of dollars; and of cattle-pens, (grazing farms,) one hundred and

twenty-two have been totally, and ten partially, abandoned, the value of

which was a million and a half of dollars. The aggregate value of these

six hundred and six estates, which have been thus ruined and abandoned

in the island of Jamaica, within the last seven or eight years, amounted

by the regular assessments, ten years since, to the sum of nearly two

and a half millions of pounds sterling, or twelve and a half millions of

dollars."[177]

In relation to Jamaica, another witness says: "The marks of decay

abound. Neglected fields, crumbling houses, fragmentary fences,

noiseless machinery--these are common sights, and soon become familiar

to observation. I sometimes rode for miles in succession over fertile

ground, which used to be cultivated, and which is now lying waste. So

rapidly has cultivation retrograded, and the wild luxuriance of nature

replaced the conveniences of art, that parties still inhabiting these

desolated districts have sometimes, in the strong language of a speaker

at Kingston, 'to seek about the bush to find the entrance into their

houses.'

"The towns present a spectacle no less gloomy. A great part of Kingston

was destroyed, some years ago, by an extensive conflagration: yet

multitudes of the houses which escaped that visitation are standing

empty, though the population is little, if at all, diminished. The

explanation is obvious. Persons who have nothing, and can no longer keep

up their domestic establishments, take refuge in the abodes of others,

where some means of subsistence are still left; and in the absence of

any discernible trade or occupation, the lives of crowded thousands

appear to be preserved from day to day by a species of miracle. The most

busy thoroughfares of former times have now almost the quietude of a

Sabbath.

"'The finest land in the world,' says Mr. Bigelow, 'may be had at any

price, and almost for the asking.' Labor 'receives no compensation, and

the product of labor does not seem to know how to find the way to

market.'"[178]

From the report made in 1849, and signed by various missionaries, the

moral and religious state of the island appears no less gloomy than its

scenes of poverty and distress. The following extract from that report

we copy from Mr. Carey's "Slave Trade, Domestic and Foreign:"--

"Missionary efforts in Jamaica are beset at the present time with many

and great discouragements. Societies at home have withdrawn or

diminished the amount of assistance afforded by them to chapels and

schools throughout this island. The prostrate condition of its

agriculture and commerce disables its own population from doing as much

as formerly for maintaining the worship of God and the tuition of the

young, and induces numbers of negro laborers to retire from estates

which have been thrown up, to seek the means of subsistence in the

mountains, where they are removed in general from moral training and

superintendence. The consequences of this state of matters are very

disastrous. Not a few missionaries and teachers--often struggling with

difficulties which they could not overcome--have returned to Europe, and

others are preparing to follow them. Chapels and schools are abandoned,

or they have passed into the hands of very incompetent instructors."

We cannot dwell upon each of the West India Islands. Some of these have

not suffered so much as others; but while some, from well-known causes,

have been partially exempt from the evils of emancipation, all have

suffered to a fearful extent. This, as we shall now show, is most amply

established by English authorities.

Mr. Bigelow, whose "Notes on Jamaica in 1850" we have noticed, is an

American writer; a Northern man; and, it is said, by no means a friend

to the institution of slavery. It is certain that Mr. Robert Baird, from

whom we shall now quote, is not only a subject of Great Britain, but

also a most enthusiastic advocate of "the glorious Act of British

Emancipation." But although he admires that act, yet, on visiting the

West Indies for his health, he could not fail to be struck with the

appalling scenes of distress there exhibited. In describing these, his

object is not to reflect shame on the misguided philanthropy of Great

Britain; but only to urge the adoption of other measures, in order to

rescue the West Indies from the utter ruin and desolation which must

otherwise soon overtake them. We might easily adduce many impressive

extracts from his work; but, for the sake of brevity, we shall confine

our attention to one or two passages.

"Hope," says Mr. Baird, "delights to brighten the prospects of the

future; and thus it is that the British West Indian planter goes on from

year to year, struggling against his downward progress, and still hoping

that something may yet turn up to retrieve his ruined fortunes. But all

do not struggle on. Many have given in, and many more can and will

confirm the statement of a venerable friend of my own--a gentleman high

in office in one of the islands above-mentioned--who, when showing me

his own estate and sugar-works, assured me, that for above a quarter of

a century they had yielded him nearly £2000 per annum; and that now,

despite all his efforts and improvements, (which were many,) he could

scarcely manage to make the cultivation pay itself. Instances of this

kind might be multiplied till the reader was tired, and even heart-sick,

of such details. But what need of such? Is it not notorious? Has it not

been proved by the numerous failures that have taken place of late years

among our most extensive West Indian merchants? Are not the reports of

almost all the governors of our colonial possessions filled with

statements to the effect that great depreciation of property has taken

place in all and each of our West Indian colonies, and that great has

been the distress consequent thereupon? These governors are, of course,

all of them imbued, to some extent, with the ministerial policy--at

least it is reasonable to assume that they are so. At all events,

whether they are so or not, their position almost necessitates their

doing their utmost to carry out, with success, the ministerial views and

general policy. To embody the substance of the answer given by a

talented lieutenant-governor, in my own hearing, to an address which set

forth, somewhat strongly, the ruined prospects and wasted fortunes of

the colonists under his government: 'It must, or it ought to be, the

object and the desire of every governor or lieutenant-governor in the

British West Indian Islands, to disappoint and stultify, if he can, the

prognostications of coming ruin with which the addresses he receives

from time to time are continually charged?' Yet what say these

governors? Do not the reports of one and all of them confirm the above

statement as to the deplorable state of distress to which the West

Indian planters in the British colonies are reduced?"[179]

Again, he says: "That the British West Indian colonists have been loudly

complaining that they are ruined, is a fact so generally acknowledged,

that the very loudness and frequency of the complaint has been made a

reason for disregarding or undervaluing the grounds of it. That the West

Indians are always grumbling is an observation often heard; and, no

doubt, it is very true that they are so. But let any one who thinks that

the extent and clamor of the complaint exceeds the magnitude of the

distress which has called it forth, go to the West Indies and judge for

himself. Let him see with his own eyes the neglected and abandoned

estates,--the uncultivated fields, fast hurrying back into a state of

nature, with all the speed of tropical luxuriance--the dismantled and

silent machinery, the crumbling walls, and deserted mansions, which are

familiar sights in most of the British West Indian colonies. Let him,

then, transport himself to the Spanish islands of Porto Rico and Cuba,

and witness the life and activity which in these slave colonies prevail.

Let him observe for himself the activity of the slavers--the

improvements daily making in the cultivation of the fields and in the

processes carried on at the Ingenios or sugar-mills--and _the general

indescribable air of thriving and prosperity which surrounds the

whole_,--and then let him come back to England and say, if he honestly

can, that the British West Indian planters and proprietors are

grumblers, who complain without adequate cause."[180]

Great Britain has shown no little solicitude to ascertain the real state

of things in her West India colonies. For this purpose, she appointed,

in 1842, a select committee, consisting of some of the most prominent

members of Parliament, with Lord Stanley at their head. In 1848, another

committee was appointed by her, with Lord George Bentinck as its

chairman, to inquire into the condition of her Majesty's East and West

India possessions and the Mauritius, and to consider whether any

measures could be adopted for their relief. The report of both

committees show, beyond all doubt, that unexampled distress existed in

the colonies. The report of 1848 declares: "That many estates in the

British West India colonies have been already abandoned, that many more

are in the course of abandonment, and that from this cause a very

serious diminution is to be apprehended in the total amount of

production. That the first effect of this diminution will be an increase

in the price of sugar, and the ultimate effect a greater extension to

the growth of sugar in slave countries, and a greater impetus to slavery

and the slave-trade." From the same report, we also learn that the

prosperity of the Mauritius, no less than that of the West India

Islands, had suffered a fearful blight, in consequence of the "glorious

act of emancipation."

A third commission was appointed, in 1850, to inquire into the condition

and prospects of British Guiana. Lord Stanley, in his second letter to

Mr. Gladstone, the Secretary of the British colonies, has furnished us

with the following extracts from the report of this committee:--

"Of Guiana generally they say--'It would be but a melancholy task to

dwell upon the misery and ruin which so alarming a change must have

occasioned to the proprietary body; but your commissioners feel

themselves called upon to notice the effects which this wholsale

abandonment of property has produced upon the colony at large. Where

whole districts are fast relapsing into bush, and occasional patches of

provisions around the huts of village settlers are all that remain to

tell of once flourishing estates, it is not to be wondered at that the

most ordinary marks of civilization are rapidly disappearing, and that

in many districts of the colony all travelling communication by land

will soon become utterly impracticable.'

"Of the Abary district:--'Your commission find that the line of road is

nearly impassable, and that a long succession of formerly cultivated

estates presents now a series of pestilent swamps, overrun with bush,

and productive of malignant fevers.'

"Nor are matters," says Lord Stanley, "much better further south.

"'Proceeding still lower down, your commissioners find that the public

roads and bridges are in such a condition that the few estates still

remaining on the upper west bank of Mahaica Creek are completely cut

off, save in the very dry season; and that with regard to the whole

district, unless something be done very shortly, travelling by land will

entirely cease. In such a state of things it cannot be wondered at that

the herdsman has a formidable enemy to encounter in the jaguar and other

beasts of prey, and that the keeping of cattle is attended with

considerable loss from the depredations committed by these animals.'

"It may be worth noticing," continues Lord Stanley, "that this

district--now overrun with wild beasts of the forest--was formerly the

very garden of the colony. The estates touched one another along the

whole line of the road, leaving no interval of uncleared land.

"The east coast, which is next mentioned by the commissioners, is better

off. Properties, once of immense value, had there been bought at nominal

prices; and the one railroad of Guiana passing through that tract, a

comparatively industrious population--composed of former laborers on the

line--enabled the planters still to work these to some profit. Even of

this favored spot, however, they report that it 'feels most severely the

want of continuous labor.'

"The commissioners next visit the east bank of the Demerara River, thus

described:--

"'Proceeding up the east bank of the river Demerara, the generally

prevailing features of ruin and distress are everywhere perceptible.

Roads and bridges almost impassable are fearfully significant exponents

of the condition of the plantations which they traverse; and Canal No.

3, once covered with plantains and coffee, presents now a scene of

almost total desolation.'

"Crossing to the west side, they find prospects somewhat brighter: 'A

few estates, are still 'keeping up a cultivation worthy of better

times.' But this prosperous neighborhood is not extensive, and the next

picture presented to our notice is less agreeable:--

"'Ascending the river still higher, your commissioners learn that the

district between Hobaboe Creek and "Stricken Heuvel" contained, in 1829,

eight sugar and five coffee and plantain estates, and now there remain

but three in sugar, and four partially cultivated with plantains, by

petty settlers; while the roads, with one or two exceptions, are in a

state of utter abandonment. Here, as on the opposite bank of the river,

hordes of squatters have located themselves, who avoid all communication

with Europeans, and have seemingly given themselves up altogether to the

rude pleasures of a completely savage life.'

"The west coast of Demerara--the only part of the country which still

remains unvisited--is described as showing _only_ a diminution of fifty

per cent. upon its produce of sugar; and with this fact the evidence

concludes as to one of the three sections into which the colony is

divided. Does Demerara stand alone in its misfortunes?

"Again hear the report:--'If the present state of the county of Demerara

affords cause for deep apprehension, your commissioners find that

Essequibo has retrograded to a still more alarming extent. In fact,

unless a large and speedy supply of labor be obtained to cultivate the

deserted fields of this once flourishing district, there is great reason

to fear that it will relapse into total abandonment.'

"Describing another portion of the colony--they say of one district,

'Unless a fresh supply of labor be very soon obtained, there is every

reason to fear that it will become completely abandoned.' Of a second,

'speedy immigration alone can save this island from total ruin.' 'The

prostrate condition of this once beautiful part of the coast,' are the

words which begin another paragraph, describing another tract of

country. Of a fourth, 'the proprietors on this coast seem to be keeping

up a hopeless struggle against approaching ruin.' Again, 'the once

famous Arabian coast, so long the boast of the colony, presents now but

a mournful picture of departed prosperity. Here were formerly situated

some of the finest estates in the country, and a large resident body of

proprietors lived in the district, and freely expended their incomes on

the spot whence they derived them.' Once more, 'the lower part of the

coast, after passing Devonshire Castle, to the river Pomeroon, presents

a scene of almost total desolation.' Such is Essequibo!

"Berbice," says Lord Stanley, "has fared no better. Its rural population

amounts to 18,000. Of these, 12,000 have withdrawn from the estates, and

mostly from the neighborhood of the white man, to enjoy a savage freedom

of ignorance and idleness, beyond the reach of example and sometimes of

control. But on the condition of the negro I shall dwell more at length

hereafter; at present it is the state of property with which I have to

do. What are the districts which together form the county of Berbice?

The Corentyne coast--the Canje Creek--east and west banks of the Berbice

River--and the west coast, where, however, cotton was formerly the chief

article produced. To each of these respectively the following passages,

quoted in order, apply:--

"'The abandoned plantations on this coast,[181] which, if capital and

labor could be procured, might easily be made very productive, are

either wholly deserted, or else appropriated by hordes of squatters, who

of course are unable to keep up at their own expense the public roads

and bridges; and consequently all communication by land between the

Corentyne and New Amsterdam is nearly at an end. The roads are

impassable for horses or carriages, while for foot passengers they are

extremely dangerous. The number of villages in this deserted region must

be upward of 2500, and as the country abounds with fish and game, they

have no difficulty in making a subsistence. In fact, the Corentyne coast

is fast relapsing into a state of nature.'

"'Canje Creek was formerly considered a flourishing district of the

county, and numbered on its east bank seven sugar and three coffee

estates, and on its west bank eight estates, of which two were in sugar

and six in coffee, making a total of eighteen plantations. The coffee

cultivation has long since been entirely abandoned, and of the sugar

estates but eight still now remain. They are suffering severely for want

of labor, and being supported principally by African and Coolie

immigrants, it is much to be feared that if the latter leave and claim

their return passages to India, a great part of the district will

become abandoned.'

"Under present circumstances, so gloomy is the condition of affairs

here,[182] that the two gentlemen whom your commissioners have examined

with respect to this district, both concur in predicting "its slow but

sure approximation to the condition in which civilized man first found

it."'

"'A district[183] that in 1829 gave employment to 3635 registered

slaves, but at the present moment there are not more than 600 laborers

at work on the few estates still in cultivation, although it is

estimated there are upward of 2000 people idling in villages of their

own. The roads are in many parts several feet under water and perfect

swamps, while in some places the bridges are wanting altogether. In fact

the whole district is fast becoming a total wilderness, with the

exception of the one or two estates which yet continue to struggle on,

and which are hardly accessible now but by water.'

"'Except in some of the best villages,[184] they care not for back or

front dams to keep off the water; their side-lines are disregarded, and

consequently the drainage is gone, while in many instances the public

road is so completely flooded that canoes have to be used as a means of

transit. The Africans are unhappily following the example of the Creoles

in this district, and buying land on which they settle in contented

idleness; and your commissioners cannot view instances like these

without the deepest alarm, for if this pernicious habit of squatting is

allowed to extend to the immigrants also, there is no hope for the

colony.'"[185]

We might fill a volume with extracts to the same effect. We might in

like manner point to other regions, especially to Guatemala, to the

British colony on the southern coast of Africa, and to the island of

Hayti, in all of which emancipation has been followed by precisely

similar results. But we must hasten to consider how it is that

emancipation has wrought all this ruin and desolation. In the mean time,

we shall conclude this section in the ever-memorable words of Alison,

the historian: "The negroes," says he, "who, in a state of slavery, were

comfortable and prosperous beyond any peasantry in the world, and

rapidly approaching the condition of the most opulent serfs of Europe,

_have been by the act of emancipation irretrievably consigned to a state

of barbarism_."

§ III. _The manner in which emancipation has ruined the British

Colonies._

By the act of emancipation, Great Britain paralyzed the right arm of her

colonial industry. The laborer would not work except occasionally, and

the planter was ruined. The morals of the negro disappeared with his

industry, and he speedily retraced his steps toward his original

barbarism. All this had been clearly foretold. "Emancipation," says Dr.

Channing in 1840, "was resisted on the ground that the slave, if

restored to his rights, _would fall into idleness and vagrancy, and even

relapse into barbarism_."

This was predicted by the West Indian planters, who certainly had a good

opportunity to know something of the character of the negro, whether

bond or free. But who could suppose for a moment that an enlightened

abolitionist would listen to slaveholders? His response was, that "their

unhappy position as slaveholders had robbed them of their reason and

blunted their moral sense." Precisely the same thing had been foretold

by the Calhouns and the Clays of this country. But they, too, were

unfortunately slaveholders, and, consequently, so completely "sunk in

moral darkness," that their testimony was not entitled to credit. The

calmest, the profoundest, the wisest statesman of Great Britain likewise

forewarned the agitators of the desolation and the woes they were about

to bring upon the West Indies. But the madness of the day would confide

in no wisdom except its own, and listen to no testimony except to the

clamor of fanatics. Hence the frightful experiment was made, and, as we

have seen, the prediction of the anti-abolitionist has been fulfilled to

the very letter.

The cause of this downward tendency in the British colonies is now

perfectly apparent to all who have eyes to see. On this point, the two

committees above referred to both concur in the same conclusion. The

committee of 1842 declare, "that the principal causes of this diminished

production, and consequent distress, are the great difficulty which has

been experienced by the planters in obtaining _steady_ and _continuous_

labor, and the high rate of remuneration which they give for even the

_broken_ and _indifferent_ work which they are able to procure."

The cry of the abolitionist has been changed. At first--even before the

experiment was more than a year old--he insisted that the industry of

the freed black was working wonders in the British colonies. In the West

Indies, in particular, he assured us that the freed negro would do "an

infinity of work for wages."[186] Though he had been on the islands, and

had had an opportunity to see for himself, he boasted that "the old

notion that the negro is, by constitution, a lazy creature, who will do

no work at all except by compulsion, _is now forever exploded_."[187] He

even declared, that the free negro "understands his interest as well as

a Yankee."[188] These confident statements, made by an eye-witness, were

hailed by the abolitionists as conclusive proof that the experiment was

working admirably. "The great truth has come out," says Dr. Channing,

"that the hopes of the most sanguine advocates of emancipation have been

realized--if not surpassed--by the West Indies." What! the negro become

idle, indeed! "He is more likely," says the enchanted doctor, "to fall

into the civilized man's cupidity than into the filth and sloth of the

savage." But all these magnificent boasts were quite premature. A few

short years have sufficed to demonstrate that the deluded authors of

them, who had so lamentably failed to predict the future, could not even

read the present.

Their boasts are now exploded. Their former hopes are blasted; and their

cry is changed. The song now is,--"Well, suppose the negroes will not

work: they are FREE! They can now do as they list, and there is no man

to hinder." Ah, yes! they can now, at their own sweet will, stretch

themselves "under their gracefully-waving groves," and be lulled to

sleep amid the sound of waterfalls and the song of birds.

Such, precisely, is the paradise for which the negro sighs, except that

he does not care for the waterfalls and the birds. But it should be

remarked, that when sinful man was driven from the only Paradise that

earth has ever seen, he was doomed to eat his bread in the sweat of his

brow. This doom he cannot reverse. Let him make of life--as the Haytien

negroes do--"one long day of unprofitable ease,"[189] and he may dream

of Paradise, or the abolitionists may dream for him. But while he

dreams, the laws of nature are sternly at their work. Indolence benumbs

his feeble intellect, and inflames his passions. Poverty and want are

creeping on him. Temptation is surrounding him; and vice, with all her

motley train, is winding fast her deadly coils around his very soul, and

making him the devil's slave, to do his work upon the earth. Thus, the

blossoms of his paradise are _fine words_, and its fruits are _death_.

"If but two hours' labor per day," says Theodore Parker, "are necessary

for the support of each colored man, I know not why he should toil

longer." You know not, then, why the colored man should work more than

two hours a day? Neither does the colored man himself. You know not why

he should have any higher or nobler aim in life than to supply his few,

pressing, animal wants? Neither does he. You know not why he should

think of the future, or provide for the necessities of old age? Neither

does he. You know not why he should take thought for seasons of

sickness? Neither does he; and hence his child often dies under his own

eyes, for the want of medical attendance. You know not that the colored

man, who begins with working only two hours a day, will soon end with

ceasing from all regular employment, and live, in the midst of filth, by

stealing or other nefarious means? In one word, you know not why the

colored man should not live like the brute, in and for the present

merely--blotting out all the future from his plans of life? If, indeed,

you really know none of these things, then we beg you will excuse us, if

_we_ do not know why you should assume to teach our senators wisdom;--if

we do not know why the cobbler should not stick to his last, and all

such preachers to their pulpits.[190]

Abolitionism is decidedly progressive. The time was when Dr. Channing

thought that men should work, and that, if they would not labor from

rational motives, they should be compelled to labor.[191] The time was,

when even abolitionists looked upon labor with respect, and regarded it

as merely an obedience to the very first law of nature, or merely a

compliance with the very first condition of all economic, social, and

moral well-being. But the times are changed. The exigencies of

abolitionism now require that _manual labor, and the gross material

wealth_ it produces, should be sneeringly spoken of, and great swelling

eulogies pronounced on the infinite value of the negro's freedom. For

this is all he has; and for this, all else has been sacrificed. Thus,

since abolitionists themselves have been made to see that the freed

negro--the pet and idol of their hearts--will not work from rational

motives, then the principles of political economy, and the affairs of

the world, all must be adjusted to the course _he_ may be pleased to

take.

In this connection we shall notice a passage from Montesquieu, which is

exactly in point. He is often quoted by the abolitionists, but seldom

fairly. It is true, he is exceedingly hostile to slavery _in general_,

and very justly pours ridicule and contempt on some of the arguments

used in favor of the institution. But yet, with all his enthusiastic

love of liberty,--nay, with his ardent passion for equality,--he saw far

too deeply into the true "Spirit of Laws" not to perceive that slavery

is, in certain cases, founded on the great principles of political

justice. It is precisely in those cases in which a race or a people will

not work without being compelled to do so, that he justifies the

institution in question. Though warmly and zealously opposed to slavery,

yet he was not bent on sacrificing the good of society to abstractions

or to prejudice. Hence, he could say: "But as all men are born equal,

slavery must be accounted unnatural, THOUGH IN SOME COUNTRIES IT BE

FOUNDED ON NATURAL REASON; and a wide difference ought to be made

betwixt such countries, and those in which natural reason rejects it, as

in Europe, where it has been happily abolished."[192] Now, if we inquire

in what countries, or under what circumstances, he considered slavery

founded on natural reason, we may find his answer in a preceding portion

of the same page. It is in those "countries," says he, "where the excess

of heat enervates the body, and renders men so slothful and dispirited,

that nothing but the fear of chastisement can oblige them to perform any

laborious duty," etc. Such, as we have seen, is precisely the case with

the African race in its present condition.

"Natural slavery, then," he continues, "is to be limited to some

particular parts of the world."[193] And again: "Bad laws have made lazy

men--they have been reduced to slavery because of their laziness." The

first portion of this remark--that bad laws have made lazy men--is not

applicable to the African race. For they were made lazy, not by bad

laws, but by the depravity of human nature, in connection and

co-operation with long, long centuries of brutal ignorance and the most

savage modes of life. But, be the cause of this laziness what it may, it

is sufficient, according to the principles of this great advocate of

human freedom and equality, to justify the servitude in which the

providence of God has placed the African.

No doubt it is very hard on lazy men that they should be compelled to

work. It is for this reason that Montesquieu calls such slavery "the

most cruel that is to be found among men;" by which he evidently means

that it is the most cruel, though necessary, because those on whom it is

imposed are least inclined to work. If he had only had greater

experience of negro slavery, the hardship would have seemed far less to

him. For though the negro is naturally lazy, and too improvident to work

for himself, he will often labor for a master with a right good will,

and with a loyal devotion to his interests. He is, indeed, often

prepared, and made ready for labor, because he feels that, in his

master, he has a protector and a friend.

But whether labor be a heavy burden or a light, it must be borne. The

good of the lazy race, and the good of the society into which they have

been thrown, both require them to bear this burden, which is, after all

and at the worst, far lighter than that of a vagabond life. "Nature

cries aloud," says the abolitionist, "for freedom." Nature, we reply,

demands that man shall work, and her decree must be fulfilled. For ruin,

as we have seen, is the bitter fruit of disobedience to her will.

It is now high time that we should notice some of the exalted eulogies

bestowed by abolitionists upon freedom; and also _the kind of freedom_

on which these high praises have been so eloquently lavished. This,

accordingly, we shall proceed to do in the following section.

§ IV. _The great benefit supposed by American abolitionists to result to

the freed negroes from the British act of emancipation._

We have, in the preceding sections, abundantly seen that the freed

colored subjects of the British crown are fast relapsing into the most

irretrievable barbarism, while the once flourishing colonies themselves

present the most appalling scenes of desolation and distress. Surely it

is no wonder that the hurrahing of the English people has ceased. "At

the present moment," says the London Times for December 1st, 1852, "if

there is one thing in the world that the British public do not like to

talk about, or _even to think about_, it is the condition of the race

for whom this great effort was made." Not so with the abolitionists of

this country. They still keep up the annual celebration of that great

event, the act of emancipation, by which, in the language of one of

their number, more than half a million of human beings were "turned from

brutes into freemen!"

It is the freedom of the negro which they celebrate. Let us look, then,

for a few moments, into the mysteries of this celebration, and see, if

we may, the nature of the praises they pour forth in honor of freedom,

and _the kind of freedom on which_ they are so passionately bestowed.

We shall not quote from the more insane of the fraternity of

abolitionists, for their wild, raving nonsense would, indeed, be

unworthy of serious refutation. We shall simply notice the language of

Dr. Channing, the scholar-like and the eloquent, though visionary,

advocate of British emancipation. Even as early as 1842, in an address

delivered on the anniversary of that event, he burst into the following

strain of impassioned eulogy: "Emancipation works well, far better than

could have been anticipated. _To me it could hardly have worked

otherwise than well._ It banished _slavery_, that wrong and curse not to

be borne. It gave _freedom_, the dear birthright of humanity; and had it

done nothing more, I should have found in it cause for joy. Freedom,

simple freedom, is 'in my estimation just, far prized above all price.'

_I do not stop to ask if the emancipated are better fed and clothed than

formerly._ THEY ARE FREE; AND THAT ONE WORD CONTAINS A WORLD OF

GOOD,[194] unknown to the most pampered slave." And again, he says,

"Nature cries aloud for freedom as our proper good, our birthright and

our end, and resents nothing so much as its loss."

In these high-sounding praises, which hold up personal freedom as "our

proper good," as "our end," it is assumed that man was made for liberty,

and not liberty for man. It is, indeed, one of the fundamental errors of

the abolitionist to regard freedom as a great substantive good, or as in

itself a blessing, and not merely as a relative good. It may be, and

indeed often is, an unspeakable benefit, but then it is so only as a

means to an end. The end of our existence, the _proper good_, is the

improvement of our intellectual and moral powers, the perfecting of our

rational and immortal natures. When freedom subserves this end, it is a

good; when it defeats this end, it is an evil. Hence there may be a

world of evil as well as a world of good in "this one word."

The wise man adapts the means to the end. It were the very hight of

folly to sacrifice the end to the means. No man gives personal freedom

to his child because he deems it always and in all cases a good. His

heart teaches him a better doctrine when the highest good of his child

is concerned. Should we not be permitted, then, to have something of the

same feeling in regard to those whom Providence has placed under our

care, especially since, having the passions of men, with only the

intellects of children, they stand in utmost need of guidance and

direction?

As it is their duty to labor, so the law which compels them to do so is

not oppressive. It deprives them of the enjoyment of no right, unless,

indeed, they may be supposed to have a right to violate their duty.

Hence, in compelling the colored population of the South to work, the

law does not deprive them of liberty, in the true sense of the word;

that is, _it does not deprive them of the enjoyment of any natural

right_. It merely requires them to perform a natural duty.

This cannot be denied. It has been, as we have shown, admitted both by

Dr. Wayland and Dr. Channing.[195] But while the _end_ is approved, the

_means_ are not liked. Few of the abolitionists are disposed to offer

any substitute for our method. They are satisfied merely to pull down

and destroy, without the least thought or care in regard to

consequences. Dr. Channing has, however, been pleased to propose another

method, for securing the industry of the black and the prosperity of the

State. Let us then, for a moment, look at this scheme.

The black man, says he, should not be owned. He should work, but not

under the control of a master. His overseer should be appointed by the

State, and be amenable to the State for the proper exercise of his

authority. Now, if this learned and eloquent orator had only looked one

inch beneath the surface of his own scheme, he would have seen that it

is fraught with the most insuperable difficulties, and that its

execution must needs be attended with the most ruinous consequences.

Emancipate the blacks, then, and let the State undertake to work them.

In the first place, we must ignore every principle of political economy,

and consent to the wildest and most reckless of experiments, ere we can

agree that the State should superintend and carry on the agricultural

interests of the country. But suppose this difficulty out of the way, on

what land would the State cause _its slaves_ to be worked? It would

scarcely take possession of the plantations now under improvements; and,

setting aside the owners, proceed to cultivate the land. But it must

either do this, or else leave these plantations to become worthless for

the want of laborers, and open new ones for the benefit of the State! In

no point of view could a more utterly chimerical or foolish scheme be

well conceived. If we may not be allowed to adhere to our own plan, we

beg that some substitute may be proposed which is not fraught with such

inevitable destruction to the whole South. Otherwise, we shall fear

that these self-styled friends of humanity are more bent on carrying out

their own designs than they are on promoting our good.

But what is meant by the freedom of the emancipated slaves, on which so

many exalted eulogies have been pronounced? Its first element, it is

plain, is a freedom from labor[196]--freedom from the very first law of

nature. In one word, its sum and substance is a power on the part of the

freed black to act pretty much as he pleases. Now, before we expend

oceans of enthusiasm on such a freedom, would it not be well to see

_how_ he would be pleased to act?

Dr. Channing has told us, we are aware, of the "indomitable love of

liberty," which had been infused into the breast of "fierce barbarians"

by their native wildernesses.[197] But we are no great admirers of a

liberty which knows no law except its own will, and seeks no end except

the gratification of passion.[198] Hence, we have no very great respect

for the liberty of fierce barbarians. It would make a hell on earth. "My

maxim," exclaims Dr. Channing, "is anything but slavery!" Even slavery,

we cry, before a freedom such as his!

This kind of freedom, it should be remembered, was born in France and

cradled in the revolution. May it never be forgotten that the "Friends

of the Blacks" at Boston had their exact prototypes in "_les Amis des

Noirs_" of Paris. Of this last society Robespierre was the ruling

spirit, and Brissot the orator. By the dark machinations of the

one,[199] and the fiery eloquence of the other, the French people--_la

grande nation_--were induced, in 1791, to proclaim the principle of

equality to and for the free blacks of St. Domingo. This beautiful

island, then the brightest and most precious jewel in the crown of

France, thus became the first of the West Indies in which the dreadful

experiment of a forced equality was tried. The authors of that

experiment were solemnly warned of the horrors into which it would

inevitably plunge both the whites and the blacks of the island. Yet,

firm and immovable as death, Robespierre sternly replied, then "Perish

the colonies rather than sacrifice one iota of our principles!"[200] The

magnificent colony of St. Domingo did not quite perish, it is true; but

yet, as every one, except the philanthropic "Ami des Noirs" of the

present day, still remembers with a thrill of horror, the entire white

population soon melted, like successive flakes of snow, in the furnace

of that freedom which a Robespierre had kindled.

The atrocities of this awful massacre have had, as the historian has

said,[201] no parallel in the annals of human crime. "The negroes," says

Alison, "marched with spiked infants on their spears instead of colors;

they sawed asunder the male prisoners, and violated the females on the

dead bodies of their husbands." The work of death, thus completed with

such outbursts of unutterable brutality, constituted and closed the

first act in the grand drama of Haytien freedom.

But equality was not yet established. The colored men, or mulattoes,

beheld, with an eye burning with jealousy, the superior power and

ascendency of the blacks. Hence arose the horrors of a civil war.

Equality had been proclaimed, and anarchy produced. In this frightful

chaos, the ambitious mulattoes, whose insatiable desire of equality had

first disturbed the peace of the island, perished miserably beneath the

vengeance of the very slaves whom they had themselves roused from

subjection and elevated into irresistible power. Thus ended the second

act of the horrible drama.

This bloody discord, this wild chaos of disgusting brutalities, of

course terminated not in freedom, but in a military despotism. With the

subsequent wars and fearful destruction of human life our present

inquiry has nothing to do. We must confine our attention to the point

before us, namely, the kind of freedom achieved by the blacks of St.

Domingo. We have witnessed the two great manifestations of that freedom;

we shall now look at its closing scene. This we shall, for obvious

reasons, present in the language of an English author.

"An independent negro state," says he, "was thus established in Hayti;

but the people have not derived all the benefits which they sanguinely

expected. Released from their compulsory toil, they have not yet learned

to subject themselves to the restraints of regular industry. The first

absolute rulers made the most extraordinary efforts to overcome the

indolence which soon began to display itself. The _Code Rural_ directed

that the laborer should fix himself on a certain estate, which he was

never afterward to quit without a passport from the government. His

hours of labor and rest were fixed by statute. The whip, at first

permitted, was ultimately prohibited; but as every military officer was

allowed to chastise with a thick cane, and almost every proprietor held

a commission, the laborer was not much relieved. By these means Mr.

Mackenzie supposes that the produce of 1806 was raised to about a third

of that of 1789. But such violent regulations could not continue to be

enforced amid the succeeding agitations, and under a republican

_régime_. Almost all traces of laborious culture were soon obliterated;

large tracts, which had been one entire sugar garden, presented now only

a few scattered plantations."[202]

Thus the lands were divided out among the officers of the army, while

the privates were compelled to cultivate the soil under their former

military commanders, clothed with more than "a little brief authority."

No better could have been expected except by fools or fanatics. The

blacks might preach equality, it is true, but yet, like the more

enlightened ruffians of Paris, they would of course take good care not

to practice what they had preached. Hence, by all the horrors of their

bloody resolution, they only effected a change of masters. The white man

had disappeared, and the black man, one of their own race and color, had

assumed his place and his authority. And of all masters, it is well

known, the naturally servile are the most cruel. "The earth," says

Solomon, "cannot bear a servant when he reigneth."[203]

"The sensual and the dark rebel in vain:

Slaves by their own compulsion, in mad game

They burst their manacles, to wear the _name_

Of Freedom, graven on a heavier chain."

COLERIDGE.

Thus "the world of good" they sought was found, most literally, in "the

word;" for the word, the name of freedom, was all they had achieved--at

least of good. Poverty, want, disease, and crime, were the substantial

fruits of their boasted freedom.

In 1789, the sugar exported was 672,000,000 pounds; in 1806, it was

47,516,531 pounds; in 1825, it was 2020 pounds; in 1832, it was 0

pounds. If history had not spoken, we might have safely inferred, from

this astounding decline of industry, that the morals of the people had

suffered a fearful deterioration. But we are not left to inference. We

are informed, by the best authorities,[204] that their "morals are

exceedingly bad;" and that under the reign of liberty, as it is called,

their condition has, in all respects, become far worse than it was

before. "There appears every reason to apprehend," says James Franklin,

"that it will recede into irrecoverable insignificance, poverty, and

disorder."[205]

Mr. T. Babington Macaulay has, we are aware, put forth certain notions

on the subject of liberty, which are exactly in accordance with the

views and the spirit of the abolitionists, as well as with the

cut-throat philosophy of the Parisian philanthropists of the revolution.

As these notions are found in one of his juvenile productions, and

illustrated by "a pretty story" out of Ariosto, we should not deem it

worth while to notice them, if they had not been retained in the latest

edition of his Miscellanies. But for this circumstance, we should pass

them by as the rhetorical flourish of a young man who, in his most

mature productions, is often more brillant than profound.

"Ariosto," says he, "tells a pretty story of a fairy, who, by some

mysterious law of her nature, was condemned to appear at certain seasons

in the form of a foul and poisonous snake. Those who injured her during

the period of her disguise were forever excluded from participation in

the blessings which she bestowed. But to those who, in spite of her

loathsome aspect, pitied and protected her, she afterward revealed

herself in the beautiful and celestial form which was natural to her,

accompanied their steps, granted all their wishes, filled their houses

with wealth, made them happy in love, and victorious in war. Such a

spirit is Liberty. At times she takes the form of a hateful reptile. She

grovels, she hisses, she stings. But wo to those who in disgust shall

venture to crush her! And happy are those who, having dared to receive

her in her degraded and frightful shape, shall at length be rewarded by

her in the time of her beauty and her glory."

For aught we know, all this may be very fine poetry, and may deserve the

place which it has found in some of our books on rhetoric. But yet this

beautiful passage will--like the fairy whose charms it celebrates--be so

surely transformed into a hateful snake or venomous toad, that it should

not be swallowed without an antidote. Robespierre, Danton, Marat,

Barrière, and the black Dessalines, took this hateful, hissing,

stinging, maddening reptile to their bosoms, and they are welcome to its

rewards. But they mistook the thing: it was not liberty transformed; it

was tyranny unbound, the very scourge of hell, and Satan's chief

instrument of torture to a guilty world. It was neither more nor less

than Sin, despising GOD, and warring against his image on the earth.

We do not doubt--nay, we firmly believe--that in the veritable history

of the universe, _analogous_ changes have taken place. But then these

awful changes were not mere fairy tales. They are recorded in the word

of God. When Lucifer, the great bearer of light, himself was _free_, he

sought equality with God, and thence became a hateful, hissing serpent

in the dust. But he was not fully cursed, until "by devilish art" he

reached "the organs of man's fancy," and with them forged the grand

illusion that equality alone is freedom.

For even sinless, happy Eve was made to feel herself oppressed, until,

with keen desire of equality with gods, "forth reaching to the fruit,

she plucked, she ate:"--

"Earth felt the wound, and Nature from her seat,

Sighing through all her works, gave signs of wo,

That all was lost."

How much easier, then, to effect the ruin of poor, fallen man, by

stirring up this fierce desire of equality with discontented thoughts

and vain hopes of unattainable good! It is this dark desire, and not

liberty, which, in its rage, becomes the "poisonous snake;" and, though

decked in fine, allegoric, glowing garb, it is still the loathsome

thing, the "false worm," that turned God's Paradise itself into a

blighted world.

If Mr. Macaulay had only distinguished between liberty and license,

than which no two things in the universe are more diametrically opposed

to each other, his passion for fine rhetoric would not have betrayed him

into so absurd a conceit respecting the diverse forms of freedom.

Liberty is--as we have seen--the bright emanation of reason in the form

of law; license is the triumph of blind passion over all law and order.

Hence, if we would have liberty, the great deep of human passion must be

restrained. For this purpose, as Mr. Burke has said, there must be power

somewhere; and if there be not moral power within, there must be

physical power without. Otherwise, the restraints will be too weak; the

safeguards of liberty will give way, and the passions of men will burst

into anarchy, the most frightful of all the forms of tyranny. Shall we

call this liberty? Shall we seek the secure enjoyment of natural rights

in a wild reign of lawless terror? As well might we seek the pure light

of heaven in the bottomless pit. It is, indeed, a most horrible

desecration of the sacred name of liberty, to apply it either to the

butcheries and brutalities of the French Revolution, or to the more

diabolical massacres of St. Domingo. If such were freedom, it would, in

sober truth, be more fitly symbolized by ten thousand hissing serpents

than by a single poisonous snake; and by all on earth, as in heaven, it

should be abhorred. Hence, those pretended friends and advocates of

freedom, who would thus fain transmute her form divine into such

horribly distorted shapes, are with her enemies confederate in dark,

misguided league.

§ V. _The consequences of abolition to the South._

"We have had experience enough in our own colonies," says the

_Prospective Review_, for November, 1852, "not to wish to see the

experiment tried elsewhere on a larger scale." Now this, though it comes

to us from across the Atlantic, really sounds like the voice of genuine

philanthropy. Nor do we wish to see the experiment, which has brought

down such wide-spread ruin on all the great interests of St. Domingo and

the British colonies, tried in this prosperous and now beautiful land of

ours. It requires no prophet to foresee the awful consequences of such

an experiment on the lives, the liberties, the fortunes, and the morals,

of the people of the Southern States. Let us briefly notice some of

these consequences.

Consider, in the first place, the vast amount of property which would be

destroyed by the madness of such an experiment. According to the

estimate of Mr. Clay, "the total value of the slave property in the

United States is twelve hundred millions of dollars," all of which the

people of the South are expected to sacrifice on the altar of

abolitionism. It only moves the indignation of the abolitionist that we

should for one moment hesitate. "I see," he exclaims, "in the

immenseness of the value of the slaves, the enormous amount of the

robbery committed on them. I see 'twelve hundred millions of dollars'

seized, extorted by unrighteous force."[206] But, unfortunately, his

passions are so furious, that his mind no sooner comes into contact with

any branch of the subject of slavery, than instantly, as if by a flash

of lightning, his opinion is formed, and he begins to declaim and

denounce as if reason should have nothing to do with the question. He

does not even allow himself time for a single moment's serious

reflection. Nay, resenting the opinion of the most sagacious of our

statesmen as an insult to his understanding, he deems it beneath his

dignity even to make an attempt to look beneath the surface of the great

problem on which he condescends to pour the illuminations of his genius.

Ere we accept his oracles as inspired, we beg leave to think a little,

and consider their intrinsic value.

Twelve hundred millions of dollars extorted by unrighteous force! What

enormous robbery! Now, let it be borne in mind, that this is the

language of a man who, as we have seen, has--in one of his lucid

intervals--admitted that _it is right to apply force_ to compel those to

work who will not labor from rational motives. Such is precisely the

application of the force which now moves his righteous indignation!

This force, so justly applied, has created this enormous value of twelve

hundred millions of dollars. It has neither seized, nor extorted this

vast amount from others; it has simply created it out of that which, but

for such force, would have been utterly valueless. And if experience

teaches any thing, then, no sooner shall this force be withdrawn, than

the great value in question will disappear. It will not be restored; it

will be annihilated. The slaves--now worth so many hundred millions of

dollars--would become worthless to themselves, and nuisances to

society. No free State in the Union would be willing to receive

them--or a considerable portion of them--into her dominions. They would

be regarded as pests, and, if possible, everywhere expelled from the

empires of freemen.

Our lands, like those of the British West Indies, would become almost

valueless for the want of laborers to cultivate them. The most beautiful

garden-spots of the sunny South would, in the course of a few years, be

turned into a jungle, with only here and there a forlorn plantation.

Poverty and distress, bankruptcy and ruin, would everywhere be seen. In

one word, the condition of the Southern States would, in all material

respects, be like that of the once flourishing British colonies in which

the fatal experiment of emancipation has been tried.

Such are some of the fearful consequences of emancipation. But these are

not all. The ties that would be severed, and the sympathies crushed, by

emancipation, are not at all understood by abolitionists. They are,

indeed, utter strangers to the moral power which these ties and

sympathies now exert for the good of the inferior race. "Our patriarchal

scheme of domestic servitude," says Governor Hammond, "is indeed well

calculated to awaken the higher and finer feelings of our nature. It is

not wanting in its enthusiasm and its poetry. The relations of the most

beloved and honored chiefs, and the most faithful and admiring subjects,

which, from the time of Homer, have been the theme of song, are frigid

and unfelt, compared with those existing between the master and his

slaves; who served his father, and rocked his cradle, or have been born

in his household, and look forward to serve his children; who have been

through life the props of his fortune, and the objects of his care; who

have partaken of his griefs, and looked to him for comfort in their own;

whose sickness he has so frequently watched over and relieved; whose

holidays he has so often made joyous by his bounties and his presence;

for whose welfare, when absent, his anxious solicitude never ceases, and

whose hearty and affectionate greetings never fail to welcome him home.

In this cold, calculating, ambitious world of ours, there are few ties

more heart-felt, or of more benignant influence, than those which

mutually bind the master and the slave, under our ancient system, handed

down from the father of Israel."

Let the slaves be emancipated then, and, in one or two generations, the

white people of the South would care as little for the freed blacks

among us, as the same class of persons are now cared for by the white

people of the North. The prejudice of race would be restored with

unmitigated violence. The blacks are contented in servitude, so long as

they find themselves excluded from none of the privileges of the

condition to which they belong; but let them be delivered from the

authority of their masters, and they will feel their rigid exclusion

from the society of the whites and all participation in their

government. They would become clamorous for "their inalienable rights."

Three millions of freed blacks, thus circumstanced, would furnish the

elements of the most horrible civil war the world has ever witnessed.

These elements would soon burst in fury on the land. There was no civil

war in Jamaica, it is true, after the slaves were emancipated; but this

was because the power of Great Britain was over the two parties, and

held them in subjection. It would be far otherwise here. For here there

would be no power to check--while there would be infernal agencies at

work to promote--civil discord and strife. As Robespierre caused it to

be proclaimed to the free blacks of St. Domingo that they were naturally

entitled to all the rights and privileges of citizens; as Mr. Seward

proclaimed the same doctrine to the free blacks of New York; so there

would be kind benefactors enough to propagate the same sentiments among

our colored population. They would be instigated, in every possible way,

to claim their natural equality with the whites; and, by every

diabolical art, their bad passions would be inflamed. If the object of

such agitators were merely to stir up scenes of strife and blood, it

might be easily attained; but if it were to force the blacks into a

social and political equality with the whites, it would most certainly

and forever fail. For the government of these Southern States was, by

our fathers, founded on the VIRTUE and the INTELLIGENCE of the people,

and there we intend it shall stand. The African has neither part nor lot

in the matter.

We cannot suppose, for a moment, that abolitionists would be in the

slightest degree moved by the awful consequences of emancipation.

Poverty, ruin, death, are very small items with these sublime

philanthropists. They scarcely enter into their calculations. The

dangers of a civil war--though the most fearful the world has ever

seen--lie quite beneath the range of their humanity.

Indeed, we should expect our argument from the consequences of

emancipation to be met by a thorough-going abolitionist with the

words,--"Perish the Southern States rather than sacrifice one iota of

our principles!" We ask them not to sacrifice their principles to us;

nor do we intend that they shall sacrifice us to their principles. For

if perish we must, it shall be as a sacrifice to our own principles, and

not to theirs.

NOTE.--It has not fallen within the scope of our

design to consider the effects of emancipation,

and of the consequent destruction of so large an

amount of property, on the condition and

prosperity of the world. Otherwise it might easily

have been shown that every civilized portion of

the globe would feel the shock. This point has

been very happily, though briefly, illustrated by

Governor Hammond, in his "Letters on Slavery."

Nor has it formed any part of our purpose, in the

following section, to discuss the influence of

American slavery on the future destiny and

civilization of Africa. This subject has been ably

discussed by various writers; and especially by an

accomplished divine, the Rev. William N.

Pendleton, in a discourse published in the

"Virginian Colonizationist," for September, 1854.

§ VI. _Elevation of the Blacks by Southern slavery._

The abolitionists, with the most singular unanimity, perseveringly

assert that Southern slavery degrades its subjects "into brutes."

This assertion fills us with amazement. If it were possible, we

would suppose, in a judgment of charity, that its authors knew

nothing of the history of Africa or of the condition of our slaves.

But such ignorance is not possible. On the other hand, we find it

equally impossible tobelieve that so many men and women--the very lights

of abolitionism--could knowingly utter so palpable a falsehood. Thus we

are forced to the conclusion, that the authors of this charge are so

completely carried away by a blind hatred of slavery, that they do not

care to keep their words within the sacred bounds of eternal truth. This

seems to be the simple, melancholy fact. The great question with them

seems to be, not what is true or what is false, but what will most

speedily effect the destruction of Southern slavery. Any thing that

seems to answer this purpose is blindly and furiously wielded by them.

The Edinburgh Review, in a high-wrought eulogy on an American authoress,

says that she assails slavery with arrows "poisoned by truth." Her

words, it is true, are dipped in flaming poison; but _that_ poison is

not truth. The truth is never poison.

The native African could not be degraded. Of the fifty millions of

inhabitants of the continent of Africa, it is estimated that forty

millions were slaves. The master had the power of life and death over

the slave; and, in fact, his slaves were often fed, and killed, and

eaten, just as we do with oxen and sheep in this country. Nay, the hind

and fore-quarters of men, women, and children, might there be seen hung

on the shambles and exposed for sale! Their women were beasts of burden;

and, when young, they were regarded as a great delicacy by the palate of

their pampered masters. A warrior would sometimes take a score of young

females along with him, in order to enrich his feasts and regale his

appetite. He delighted in such delicacies. As to his religion, it was

even worse than his morals; or rather, his religion was a mass of the

most disgusting immoralities. His notion of a God, and the obscene acts

by which that notion was worshiped, are too shocking to be mentioned.

The vilest slave that ever breathed the air of a Christian land could

not begin to conceive the horrid iniquities of such a life. And yet, in

the face of all this, we are told--yea, we are perseveringly and

eternally told--that "the African has been degraded into a brute" by

American slavery! Indeed, if such creatures ever reach the level of

simple brutality at all, is it not evident they must be elevated, and

not degraded, to it?

The very persons who make the above charge know better. Their own

writings furnish the most incontestable proof that they know better. A

writer in the Edinburgh Review,[207] for example, has not only asserted

that "slavery degrades its subjects into brutes," but he has the

audacity to declare, in regard to slavery in the United States, that "we

do not believe that such oppression is to be found in any other part of

the world, civilized or uncivilized. We do not believe that such

oppression ever existed before." Yet even this unprincipled writer has,

in the very article containing this declaration, shown that he knows

better. He has shown that he knows that the African has been elevated

and improved by his servitude in the United States. We shall proceed to

convict him out of his own mouth.

"The African slave-trade was frightful," says he; "but its prey were

savages, accustomed to suffering and misery, and to endure them with

patience almost amounting to apathy. The victims of the American

slave-trade have been bred in a highly-cultivated community. Their

dispositions have been softened, their intellects sharpened, and their

sensibilities excited, by society, by Christianity, and by all the

ameliorating but enervating influences of civilization. The savage

submits to be enslaved himself, or have his wife or his child carried

off by his enemies, as merely a calamity. His misery is not embittered

by indignation. He suffers only what--if he could--he would inflict. He

cannot imagine a state of society in which there shall not be masters

and slaves, kidnapping and man-selling, coffles and slave-traders, or in

which any class shall be exempt from misfortunes which appear to him to

be incidental to humanity."

Thus, according to this very sagacious, honest, consistent writer, it

matters little what you do with the native African: he has no moral

sense; he feels no wrong; he suffers only what he would inflict. But

when you come to deal with the American slave, or, as this writer calls

him, "the civilized Virginian," it is quite another thing! His

dispositions have been softened, his intellect sharpened, and his

sensibilities roused to a new life, by society and by Christianity! And

yet, according to this very writer, this highly civilized Virginian is

the man who, by American slavery, has been degraded from the native

African into a brute! We dismiss his lawless savage, and his equally

lawless pen, from our further consideration.

We proceed, in like manner, to condemn Dr. Channing out of his own

mouth. He has repeatedly asserted that slavery among us degrades its

subjects into brutes. Now hear him on the other side of this question.

"The European race," says he, "have manifested more courage, enterprise,

invention; but in the dispositions which Christianity particularly

honors, how inferior are they to the African? When I cast my eyes over

our Southern region,--the land of bowie-knives, lynch-law, and duels, of

'chivalry,' 'honor,' and revenge; and when I consider that Christianity

is declared to be a spirit of charity, 'which seeketh not its own, is

not easily provoked, thinketh no evil, and endureth all things,' and is

also declared to be 'the wisdom from above,' which is 'first pure, then

peaceable, gentle, easy to be entreated, full of mercy and good

fruits;' can I hesitate in deciding to which of the races in that land

Christianity is most adapted, and in which its noblest disciples are

most likely to be reared?"[208]

It was by casting his eyes over "our Southern region" that Dr. Channing

concluded "that we are holding in bondage one of the best races of the

human family." If he had cast them over the appallingly dark region of

Africa, he would have been compelled, in spite of the wonder-working

power of his imagination, to pronounce it one of the very worst and most

degraded races upon earth. If, as he imagines, this race among us is now

nearer to the kingdom of heaven than we ourselves are, how dare he

assert--as he so often has done--that our slavery has "degraded them

into brutes?" If, indeed, they had not been elevated--both physically

and morally--by their servitude in America, it would have been beyond

the power of even Dr. Channing to pronounce such a eulogy upon them. We

say, then, that he knew better when he asserted that we have degraded

them into brutes. He spoke, not from his better knowledge and his

conscience, but from blind, unreflecting passion. For he knew--if he

knew any thing--that the blacks have been elevated and improved by their

contact with the whites of this enlightened portion of the globe.

The truth is, the abolitionist can make the slave a brute or a saint,

just as it may happen to suit the exigency of his argument. If slavery

degrades its subjects into brutes, then one would suppose that slaves

are brutes. But the moment you speak of selling a slave, he is no longer

a brute,--he is a civilized man, with all the most tender affections,

with all the most generous emotions. If the object be to excite

indignation against slavery, then it always transforms its subjects into

brutes; but if it be to excite indignation against the slaveholder, then

he holds, not brutes, but a George Harris--or an Eliza--or an Uncle

Tom--in bondage. Any thing, and every thing, except fair and impartial

statement, are the materials with which he works.

No fact is plainer than that the blacks have been elevated and improved

by their servitude in this country. We cannot possibly conceive, indeed,

how Divine Providence could have placed them in a better school of

correction. If the abolitionists can conceive a better method for their

enlightenment and religious improvement, we should rejoice to see them

carry their plan into execution. They need not seek to rend asunder our

Union, on account of the three millions of blacks among us, while there

are fifty millions of the same race on the continent of Africa, calling

aloud for their sympathy, and appealing to their Christian benevolence.

Let them look to that continent. Let them rouse the real, active,

self-sacrificing benevolence of the whole Christian world in behalf of

that most degraded portion of the human family; and, after all, if they

will show us on the continent of Africa, or elsewhere, three millions of

blacks in as good a condition--physically and morally--as our slaves,

then will we most cheerfully admit that all other Christian nations,

combined, have accomplished as much for the African race, as has been

done by the Southern States of the Union.

FOOTNOTES:

[175] Life of Joseph John Gurney, vol. ii. p. 214.

[176] Bigelow's Notes on Jamaica in 1850, as quoted in Carey's "Slave

Trade, Foreign and Domestic."

[177] Quoted by Mr. Carey.

[178] Carey's Slave Trade.

[179] "The West Indies and North America," by Robt. Baird, A. M., p.

145.

[180] "The West Indies and North America," by Robt. Baird, A. M., p.

143.

[181] The Corentyne.

[182] East bank of the Berbice River.

[183] West bank of the Berbice River.

[184] West coast of Berbice River.

[185] Quoted in Carey's Slave Trade.

[186] Gurney's Letters on the West Indies.

[187] Ibid.

[188] Ibid.

[189] Dr. Channing.

[190] We moot a higher question: Is he fit for the pulpit,--for that

great conservative power by which religion, and morals, and freedom,

must be maintained among us? "I do not believe," he declares, in one of

his sermons, "the miraculous origin of the Hebrew church, or the

Buddhist church, or of the Christian church, nor the miraculous

character of Jesus. I take not the Bible for my master--nor yet the

church--nor even Jesus of Nazareth for my master. . . . . . He is my best

historic ideal of human greatness; not without errors--not without the

stain of his times, and I presume, of course, not without sins; for men

without sins exist in the dreams of girls." Thus, the truth of all

miracles is denied; and the faith of the Christian world, in regard to

the sinless character of Jesus, is set down by this very modest _divine_

as the dream of girls! Yet he believes that half a million of men were,

by the British act of emancipation, turned from slaves into freemen!

That is to say, he does not believe in the miracles of the gospel; he

only believes in the miracles of abolitionism. Hence, we ask, is he fit

for the pulpit,--for the sacred desk,--for any holy thing?

[191] See extract, p. 156.

[192] Spirit of Laws, vol. i. book xv. chap. vii.

[193] Spirit of Laws, vol. i. book xv. chap. viii.

[194] The emphasis is ours.

[195] See pages 155, and 159, 160.

[196] See chap. i. § 2.

[197] Works, vol. v. p. 63.

[198] See chap. i. § 2.

[199] We have in the above remark done Boston some injustice. For New

York has furnished the Robespierre, and Massachusetts only the Brissot,

of "les Amis des Noirs" in America.

[200] This reply is sometimes attributed to Robespierre and sometimes to

Brissot; it is probable that in substance it was made by both of these

bloody compeers in the cause of abolitionism.

[201] See Alison's History of Europe, vol. ii. p. 241.

[202] Encyclopædia of Geo. vol. iii. pp. 302, 303.

[203] Prov. xxx. 22.

[204] Encyc. of Geo., vol. iii. p. 303. Mackenzie's St. Domingo, vol.

ii. pp. 260, 321.

[205] Franklin's Present State of Hayti, etc., p. 265.

[206] Dr. Channing's Works, vol. v. p. 47.

[207] April No., 1855.

[208] Dr. Channing's Works, vol. vi. p. 50, 51.

CHAPTER V.

THE FUGITIVE SLAVE LAW.

Mr. Seward's Attack on the Constitution of his

Country--The Attack of Mr. Sumner on the

Constitution of his Country--The Right of Trial by

Jury not impaired by the Fugitive Slave Law--The

Duty of the Citizen in regard to the Constitution

of the United States.

WE have, under our present Union, advanced in prosperity and greatness

beyond all former example in the history of nations. We no sooner begin

to reason from the past to the future, than we are lost in amazement at

the prospect before us. We behold the United States, and that too at no

very distant period, the first power among the nations of the earth. But

such reasoning is not always to be relied on. Whether, in the present

instance, it points to a reality, or to a magnificent dream merely, will

of course depend on the wisdom, the integrity, and the moderation, of

our rulers.

It cannot be disguised that the Union, with all its unspeakable

advantages and blessings, is in danger. It is the Fugitive Slave Law

against which the waves of abolitionism have dashed with their utmost

force and raged with an almost boundless fury. On the other hand, it is

precisely the Fugitive Slave Law--that great constitutional guarantee of

our rights--which the people of the South are, as one man, the most

inflexibly determined to maintain. We are prepared, and we shall

accordingly proceed, to show that, in this fearful conflict, the great

leaders of abolitionism--the Chases, the Sewards, and the Sumners, of

the day--are waging a fierce, bitter, and relentless warfare against the

Constitution of their country.

§ I. _Mr. Seward's attack on the Constitution of his country._

There is one thing which Mr. Seward's reasoning overlooks,--namely, that

he has taken an oath to support the Constitution of the United States.

We shall not lose sight of this fact, nor permit him to obscure it by

his special pleadings and mystifications; since it serves to show that

while, in the name of a "higher law," he denounces the Constitution of

his country, he at the same time commits a most flagrant outrage against

that higher law itself.

The clause of the Constitution which Mr. Seward denounces is as follows:

"No person held to service or labor in one State, under the laws

thereof, escaping into another, shall, in consequence of any law or

regulation therein, be discharged from such service or labor, but shall

be delivered up on claim of the party to whom such service or labor may

be due." This clause, as Mr. Seward contemptuously says, is "from the

Constitution of the United States in 1787." He knows of only one other

compact like this "in diplomatic history;" and that was made between

despotic powers "in the year of grace 902, in the period called the Dark

Ages." But whether this compact made by the fathers of the Republic, or

the sayings and doings of Mr. Seward in regard to it, are the more

worthy of the Dark Ages, it is not for him alone to determine.

"The law of nature," says he, "disavows such compacts; the law of

nature, written on the hearts and consciences of freemen, repudiates

them." If this be so, then it certainly follows that in founding States

no such compacts should be formed. For, as Mr. Seward says, "when we are

founding States, all these laws must be brought to the standard of the

laws of God, and must be tried by that standard, and must stand or fall

by it." This is true, we repeat; but the Senator who uttered this truth

was _not_ founding States or forming a constitution. He was living and

acting under a constitution already formed, and one which he had taken

an oath to support. If, in the construction of this instrument, our

fathers really followed "as precedents the abuses of tyrants and

robbers," then the course of the Senator in question was plain: _he

should have suffered martyrdom rather than take an oath to support it_.

For the law of nature, it is clear, permits no man first to take an oath

to support such compacts, and then repudiate them. If they are at war

with his conscience, then, in the name of all that is sacred, let him

repudiate them, but, by all means, without having first placed himself

under the necessity of repudiating, at the same time, the obligation of

his oath.

There is a question among casuists, whether an oath extorted by force

can bind a man to act in opposition to his conscience. But this was not

Mr. Seward's case. His oath was not extorted. If he had refused to take

it, he would have lost nothing _except an office_.

"There was deep philosophy," says he, "in the confession of an eminent

English judge. When he had condemned a young woman to death, under the

late sanguinary code of his country, for her first theft, she fell down

dead at his feet. 'I seem to myself,' said he, 'to have been pronouncing

sentence, not against the prisoner, but against the law itself.'" Ay,

there was something better than "deep philosophy" in that English judge;

there was stern integrity; for, though he felt the law to be hard and

cruel, yet, having taken an oath to support it, he hardly felt himself

at liberty to dispense with the obligation of his oath. We commend his

example to the Senator from New York.

But who is this Senator, or any other politician of the present day,

that he should presume to pass so sweeping and so peremptory a sentence

of condemnation on a compact made by the fathers of the Republic and

ratified by the people of the United States? For our part, if we wished

to find "the higher law," we should look neither into the Dark Ages nor

into his conscience. We had infinitely rather look into the great souls

of those by whom the Constitution was framed, and by every one of whom

the very compact which Mr. Seward pronounces so infamous was cordially

sanctioned.

"Your Constitution and laws," exclaims Mr. Seward, "convert hospitality

to the refugee from the most degrading oppression on earth into a crime,

but all mankind except you esteem that hospitality a virtue." Not

content with thus denouncing the "Constitution and laws," he has

elsewhere exhorted the people to an open resistance to their execution.

"It is," says he, in a speech at a mass-meeting in Ohio, "written in the

Constitution of the the United States," and "in violation to divine

law,[209] that we shall surrender the fugitive slave who takes refuge at

our fireside from his relentless pursuer." He then and there exhorts the

people to resist the execution of this clear, this unequivocal, this

_acknowledged_, mandate of the Constitution! "Extend," says he, a

"cordial welcome _to the fugitive who lays his weary limbs at your

door_, and DEFEND HIM AS YOU WOULD YOUR HOUSEHOLD GODS."