I shall resign whenever a case occurs that requires me to aid in
returning a fugitive slave.
ANSWER. "The office-holder has promised active obedience to the
Constitution in every exigency which it has contemplated and sought
to provide for. If he promised, not meaning to perform in certain
cases, is he not doubly dishonest? Dishonest to his own conscience
in promising to do wrong, and to his fellow-citizens in purposing
from the first to break his oath, as he knew they understood it? If
he had sworn, not regarding anything as immoral which he bound
himself to do, and afterwards found in the oath something against
his conscience of which he was not at first aware, or if by change
of views he had come to deem sinful what before he thought right,
then doubtless, by promptly resigning, he might escape guilt. But is
not the case different, when among the acts promised are some known
at the time to be morally wrong? 'It is a sin to swear unto sin,'
says the poet, although it be, as he truly adds, 'a greater sin to
keep the sinful oath.'"
The captain has no right to put to sea, and resign when the storm
comes. Besides what supports a wicked government more than good men
taking office under it, even though they secretly determine not to
carry out all its provisions? The slave balancing in his lonely
hovel the chance of escape, knows nothing of your secret reservations,
your future intentions. He sees only the swarming millions at the
North ostensibly sworn to restore him to his master, if he escape a
little way. Perchance it is your false oath, which you don't mean to
keep, that makes him turn from the attempt in despair. He knows you
only--the world knows only by your _actions_, not your _intentions_,
and those side with his master. The prayer which he lifts to Heaven,
in his despair, numbers you rightly among his oppressors.