So goes the argument one way. Let us now trace it back the other. The South Carolina and Mississippi Presbyteries maintain opinions which, in their legitimate results, endorse the slave-trader. The Old-School General Assembly maintains fellowship with these Presbyteries without discipline or protest. The New-School Assembly signifies its willingness to re-unite with the Old, while, at the same time, it declares the system of slavery an abomination, a gross violation of its most sacred rights, and so on. Well, now the chain is as complete as need be. All parts are in; everyone standing in his place, and saying just what is required, and no more. The trader does the repulsive work, the Southern Church defends him, the Northern Church defends the South. Everyone does as much for slavery as would be at all expedient, considering the latitude they live in. This is the practical result of the thing.
The melancholy part of the matter is, that while a large body of New-School men, and many Old-School, are decided anti-slavery men, this denominational position carries their influence on the other side. As goes the General Assembly, so goes their influence. The following affecting letter on this subject was written by that eminently pious man, Dr. Nelson, whose work on Infidelity is one of the most efficient popular appeals that has ever appeared: —
I have resided in North Carolina more than forty years, and been intimately acquainted with the system, and I can scarcely even think of its operations without shedding tears. It causes me excessive grief to think of my own poor slaves, for whom I have for years been trying to find a free home. It strikes me with equal astonishment and horror to hear Northern people make light of slavery. Had they seen and known as much of it as I, they could not thus treat it, unless callous to the deepest woes and degradations of humanity, and dead both to the religion and philanthropy of the Gospel. But many of them are doing just what the hardest-hearted tyrants of the South most desire. Those tyrants would not, on any account, have them advocate or even apologise for slavery in an unqualified manner. This would be bad policy with the North. I wonder that Gerritt Smith should understand slavery so much better than most of the Northern people. How true was his remark on a certain occasion, namely, that the South are laughing in their sleeves to think what dupes they make of most of the people at the North in regard to the real character of slavery! Well did Mr. Smith remark that the system, carried out on its fundamental principle, would as soon enslave any labouring white man as the African. But, if it were not for the support of the North, the fabric of blood would fall at once; and of all the efforts of public bodies at the North to sustain slavery, the Connecticut General Association has made the best one. I have never seen anything so well constructed in that line as their resolutions of June, 1836. The South certainly could not have asked anything more effectual; but, of all Northern periodicals, the New York Observer must have the preference as an efficient support of slavery. I am not sure but it does more than all things combined to keep the dreadful system alive; it is just the succour demanded by the South. Its abuse of the abolitionists is music in Southern ears, which operates as a charm; but nothing is equal to its harping upon the “religious privileges and instruction” of the slaves of the South, and nothing could be so false and injurious (to the cause of freedom and religion) as the impression it gives on that subject. I say what I know when I speak in relation to this matter. I have been intimately acquainted with the religious opportunities of slaves — in the constant habit of hearing the sermons which are preached to them, and I solemnly affirm that, during the forty years of my residence and observation in this line, I never heard a single one of these sermons but what was taken up with the obligations and duties of slaves to their masters; indeed, I never heard a sermon to slaves but what made obedience to masters by the slaves the fundamental and supreme law of religion. Any candid and intelligent man can decide whether such preaching is not, as to religious purposes, worse than none at all.
Again: it is wonderful how the credulity of the North is subjected to imposition in regard to the kind treatment of slaves. For myself, I can clear up the apparent contradictions found in writers who have resided at or visited the South. The “majority of slaveholders,” say some, “treat their slaves with kindness.” Now, this may be true in certain States and districts, setting aside all questions of treatment except such as refer to the body. And yet, while the “majority of slave-holders” in a certain section may be kind, the majority of slaves in that section will be treated with cruelty. This is the truth in many such cases; that while there may be thirty men who may have but one slave a-piece, and that a house-servant — a single man in their neighbourhood may have a hundred slaves, all field-hands, half-fed, worked excessively, and whipped most cruelly. this is what I have often seen. To give a case, to show the awful influence of slavery upon the master, I will mention a Presbyterian elder, who was esteemed one of the best men in the region — a very kind master. I was called to his death-bed to write his will. He had what was considered a favourite house-servant, a female. After all other things were disposed of, the elder paused, as if in doubt what to do with “Sue.” I entertained pleasing expectations of hearing the word “liberty” fall from his lips; but who can tell my surprise when I heard the master exclaim, “What shall be done with Sue? I am afraid she will never be under a master severe enough for her.” Shall I say that both the dying elder and his “Sue” were members of the same Church — the latter statedly receiving the emblems of a Saviour’s dying love from the former?
All this temporising and concession has been excused on the plea of brotherly love. What a plea for us Northern freemen! Do we think the slave-system such a happy, desirable thing for our brothers and sisters at the South? Can we look at our common schools, our neat, thriving towns and villages, our dignified, intelligent, self-respecting farmers and mechanics, all concomitants of free labour, and think slavery any blessing to our Southern brethren? That system which beggars all the lower class of whites, which curses the very soil, which eats up everything before it, like the palmer-worm, canker, and locust — which makes common schools an impossibility, and the preaching of the gospel almost as much so — this system a blessing! Does brotherly love require us to help the South preserve it?
Consider the educational influences under which such children as Eva and Henrique must grow up there! We are speaking of what many a Southern mother feels, of what makes many a Southern father’s heart sore. Slavery has been spoken of in its influence on the family of the slave. There are those who never speak, who could tell, if they would, its influence on the family of the master. It makes one’s heart ache to see generation after generation of lovely, noble children exposed to such influences. What a country the South might be, could she develop herself without this curse! If the Southern character, even under all these disadvantages, retains so much that is noble, and is fascinating even in its faults, what might it do with free institutions?
Who is the real, who is the true and noble lover of the South? — they who love her with all these faults and encumbrances, or they who fix their eyes on the bright ideal of what she might be, and say that these faults are no proper part of her? Is it true love to a friend to accept the ravings of insanity as a true specimen of his mind? Is it true love to accept the disfigurement of sickness as a specimen of his best condition? Is it not truer love to say, “This curse is no part of our brother; it dishonours him; it does him injustice; it misrepresents him in the eyes of all nations. We love his better self, and we will have no fellowship with his betrayer.” This is the part of true, generous Christian love.
But will it be said, “The abolition enterprise was begun in a wrong spirit, by reckless, meddling, impudent fanatics?” Well, supposing that this were true, how came it to be so? If the Church of Christ had begun it right, these so-called fanatics would not have begun it wrong. In a deadly pestilence, if the right physicians do not prescribe, everybody will prescribe — men, women, and children will prescribe; because something must be done. If the Presbyterian Church, in 1818, h
ad pursued the course the Quakers did, there never would have been any fanaticism. The Quakers did all by brotherly love. They melted the chains of Mammon only in the fires of a divine charity. When Christ came into Jerusalem, after all the mighty works that he had done, while all the so-called better classes were non-committal or opposed, the multitude cut down branches of palm-trees, and cried Hosanna! There was a most indecorous tumult. The very children caught the enthusiasm, and were crying Hosannas in the temple. This was contradictory to all ecclesiastical rules. It was a highly improper state of things. The chief priests and scribes said unto Jesus, “Master, speak unto these that they hold their peace.” That gentle eye flashed as he answered, “I tell you, if these should hold their peace, the very stones would cry out.”
Suppose a fire bursts out in the streets of Boston while the regular conservators of the city, who have the keys of the fire-engines and the regulation of fire-companies, are sitting together in some distant part of the city, consulting for the public good. The cry of fire reaches them, but they think it a false alarm. The fire is no less real for all that. It burns, and rages, and roars, till everybody in the neighbourhood sees that something must be done. A few stout leaders break open the doors of the engine-houses, drag out the engines, and begin, regularly or irregularly, playing on the fire. But the destroyer still advances. Messengers come in hot haste to the hall of these deliberators, and, in the unselect language of fear and terror, revile them for not coming out.
“Bless me!” says a decorous leader of the body, “what horrible language these men use!”
“They show a very bad spirit,” remarks another; “we can’t possibly join them in such a state of things.”
Here the more energetic members of the body rush out, to see if the thing be really so; and in a few minutes come back, if possible more earnest than the others.
“Oh! there is a fire! — a horrible, dreadful fire! The city is burning — men, women, and children, all burning, perishing!
Come out, come out! As the Lord liveth, there is but a step between us and death!”
“I am not going out; everybody that goes gets crazy,” says one.
“I’ve noticed,” says another, “that as soon as anybody goes out to look, he gets just so excited; I won’t look.”
But by this time the angry fire has burned into their very neighbourhood. The red demon glares into their windows. And now, fairly aroused, they get up and begin to look out.
“Well, there is a fire, and no mistake!” says one.
“Something ought to be done,” says another.
“Yes,” says a third; “if it wasn’t for being mixed up with such a crowd and rabble of folks, I’d go out.”
“Upon my word,” says another, “there are women in the ranks, carrying pails of water! There, one woman is going up a ladder to get those children out. What an indecorum! If they’d manage this matter properly, we would join them.”
And now comes lumbering over from Charlestown the engines and fire-companies.
“What impudence of Charlestown,” say these men, “to be sending over here — just as if we could not put our own fires out! They have fires over there, as much as we do.”
And now the flames roar and burn, and shake hands across the streets. They leap over the steeples, and glare demoniacally out of the church-windows.
“For Heaven’s sake, do something!” is the cry. “Pull down the houses! Blow up those blocks of stores with gun-powder! Anything to stop it.”
“See, now, what ultra radical measures they are going at!” says one of these spectators.
Brave men, who have rushed into the thickest of the fire, come out, and fall dead in the street.
“They are impracticable enthusiasts. They have thrown their lives away in foolhardiness,” says another.
So, Church of Christ, burns that awful fire! Evermore burning, burning, burning, over church and altar; burning over senate-house and forum; burning up liberty, burning up religion! No earthly hands kindled that fire. From its sheeted flame and wreaths of sulphureous smoke glares out upon thee the eye of that enemy who was a murderer from the beginning. It is a fire that burns to the lowest hell!
Church of Christ, there was an hour when this fire might have been extinguished by thee. Now, thou standest like a mighty man astonished — like a mighty man that cannot save.
But the Hope of Israel is not dead. The Saviour thereof in time of trouble is yet alive.
If every church in our land were hung with mourning — if every Christian should put on sack-cloth — if “the priest should weep between the porch and the altar,” and say, “Spare thy people, O Lord, and give not thy heritage to reproach!” — that were not too great a mourning for such a time as this.
O Church of Jesus! consider what hath been said in the midst of thee. What a heresy hast thou tolerated in thy bosom! Thy God the defender of slavery! — thy God the patron of slave-law! Thou hast suffered the character of thy God to be slandered. Thou hast suffered false witness against thy Redeemer and thy Sanctifier. The Holy Trinity of heaven has been foully traduced in the midst of thee; and that God, whose throne is awful in justice, has been made the patron and leader of oppression.
This is a sin against every Christian on the globe.
Why do we love and adore, beyond all things, our God? Why do we say to him from our inmost souls, “Whom have I in heaven but thee? and there is none on earth I desire beside thee?” Is this a bought-up worship? — is it a cringing and hollow subserviency, because he is great, and rich, and powerful, and we dare not do otherwise? His eyes are a flame of fire; he reads the inmost soul, and will accept no such service. From our souls we adore and love him, because he is holy, and just, and good, and will not at all acquit the wicked. We love him because he is the father of the fatherless, the judge of the widow; because he lifteth all who fall, and raiseth them that are bowed down. We love Jesus Christ, because he is the Lamb without spot, the one altogether lovely. We love the Holy Comforter, because he comes to convince the world of sin, and of righteousness, and of judgment. O holy Church, universal throughout all countries and nations! O ye great cloud of witnesses, of all people, and languages, and tongues! differing in many doctrines, but united in crying Worthy is the Lamb that was slain, for he hath redeemed us from all iniquity! awake! arise up! be not silent! Testify against this heresy of the latter day, which, if it were possible, is deceiving the very elect. Your God, your glory is slandered. Answer with the voice of many waters and mighty thunderings! Answer with the innumerable multitude in heaven, who cry, day and night, Holy, holy, holy, just and true are thy ways, O King of saints!
CHAPTER III.
MARTYRDOM.
AT the time when the Methodist and Presbyterian Churches passed the anti-slavery resolutions which we have recorded, the system of slavery could probably have been extirpated by the Church with comparatively little trouble. Such was the experience of the Quakers, who tried the experiment at that time, and succeeded. The course they pursued was the simplest possible. They districted their Church, and appointed regular committees, whose business it was to go from house to house, and urge the rules of the Church individually on each slave-holder, one by one. This was done in a spirit of such simplicity and brotherly love, that very few resisted the appeal. They quietly yielded up, in obedience to their own consciences, and the influence of their brethren. This mode of operation, though gentle, was as efficient as the calm sun of summer, which, by a few hours of patient shining, dissolves the ice-blocks against which all the storms of winter have beat in vain. Oh, that so happy a course had been thought of and pursued by all the other denominations! but the day is past when this monstrous evil would so quietly yield to gentle and persuasive measures.
At the time that the Quakers made their attempt, this leviathan in the reeds and rushes of America was young and callow, and had not learned his strength. Then he might have been “drawn out with a hook;” then they might have “made a covenant with him, and take
n him for a servant for ever;” but now Leviathan is full-grown. “Behold, the hope of him is vain. Shall not men be cast down even at the sight of him? None is so fierce that dare stir him up. His scales are his pride, shut up together as with a close seal; one is so near to another that no air can come between them. The flakes of his flesh are joined together. They are firm in themselves, they cannot be moved. His heart is as firm as a stone, yea, as hard as a nether millstone. The sword of him that layeth at him cannot hold. He esteemeth iron as straw, and brass as rotten wood. Arrows cannot make him flee; sling-stones are turned with him into stubble. He laugheth at the shaking of a spear. Upon the earth there is not his like: he is king over all the children of pride.”
There are those who yet retain the delusion that, somehow or other, without any very particular effort or opposition, by a soft, genteel, rather apologetic style of operation, Leviathan is to be converted, baptised, and Christianised. They can try it. Such a style answers admirably as long as it is understood to mean nothing. But just the moment that Leviathan finds they are in earnest, then they will see the consequences. The debates of all the synods in the United States, as to whether he is an evil per se, will not wake him. In fact, they are rather a pleasant humdrum. Nor will any resolutions that they “behold him with regret” give him especial concern; neither will he be much annoyed by the expressed expectation that he is to die somewhere about the millennium. Notwithstanding all the recommendations of synods and conferences, Leviathan himself has but an indifferent opinion of his own Christianity, and an impression that he would not be considered quite in keeping with the universal reign of Christ on earth; but he doesn’t much concern himself about the prospect of giving up the ghost at so very remote a period.
Complete Works of Harriet Beecher Stowe Page 718
