Abolition a Sedition, by a Northern Man

by Calvin Colton

The most formidable difficulty of Abolitionism, therefore, and the most disorganizing principle, of all, plants itself on the very threshold of the enterprise: non-indemnification. Their only reason, so far as we understand, is, that indemnification would be a tacit and implied confession on the right of slavery. Admitting, that Abolitionists themselves think and feel so; the rest of the public do not; Abolitionists, therefore, would neither be weakened in principle, nor injured in fact, by giving up this point, except in the workings of their own imagination. This can be a valid objection only as it vitiates principle before the eyes of the public, and in the view of opponents. That, however, not being the fact, the objection ought to lose its force. But suppose some mischievous wags should say to the Abolitionists: “Well, gentlemen, you have given up a main principle, after all”—as they would be intitled to make declaration of their reason for consenting to indemnification, they would not only be defended on that point, but receive credit for making a concession, that involves no sacrifice of principle, for the public good. Consent to indemnification, either for one reason or for another—and every man may have his own reason—and one of the principal causes of the contest is superseded. But will the Abolitionists, from sheer stubbornness, insist upon a point, which, if carried, will ruin the slave States, and reduce them to beggary, involving in the catastrophe the ruin of the slaves; upon a point, which levels its blow at the foundation stone of the fabric of society, as it has heretofore existed; upon a point, which, unless human nature be miraculously changed, can never, no never, be gained, without the effusion of blood, no one can tell how much, or what state of things may succeed? Let that point be once properly adjusted, as it may be without compromitting the principles of either party, and much, very much will be gained towards pacification. It is not unlikely, indeed, that the zeal of some engaged in the cause, when they shall find that they may be required to put their hands in their pockets, will be somewhat cooled. And is it not reasonable to suppose also, that some other men’s zeal will be somewhat sharpened, when they shall find what will be to them—without imputing any such motives to the aggressors—a horde of bandits at their doors to rob them of their all?

But it may possibly be said, “We do not exactly see how the giving up of slave property, without indemnification, will be the ruin of the slave States.” Then we think it must be for the want of eyes.

The value of all capital is commercial, and accidental, and depends on the ever shifting conditions of political society. This may be seen and illustrated by the fluctuating price of that species of capital, called stocks, which is to be found in the market of every civilized community. The price of stocks never makes a false report, as to the political aspects of society, but is as infallible a guage in this particular, as is the thermometer of the weather; and the wise statesman understands it. The same principle which determines the value of this species of capital, determines the value of every other. It only happens that the guage of one is always visible, and that of the others invisible, until they come into market.

The moment emancipation for the British West Indies began to be agitated, the value of slave and other property connected with it, began to fall, and continued to fall, till the certainty of the event reduced it to about one third of what it would otherwise have been, at which time it was redeemed by the British Government at the commercial valuation. It was only public faith in the Government which kept it from going down to nothing; and this nothing would of course have been the ruin of the former state of society. What might succeed to such a revolution, would have depended on contingencies which no human foresight could solve beforehand, as every thing would have required to be erected on a new basis. It is a new basis even as it is, but saved from the wreck of a revolution by the care of the British Government; and it is to be hoped, that the wise counsels and strong arm of that Government will make it do well. It is, however, to be observed, that the actual depreciation of slave and other property in the British West Indies, during and in consequence of the Abolition agitation, was so much loss to the individual holders during that period, it being 40,000,000 sterling in slave property alone, if the price of redemption be assumed to have been one-third of the hypothetical estimate. It may, possibly, be said, that this is imaginary; but the only sure criterion is the commercial value at any given time, which is always the true value.

In the same manner, the slave property of the southern States, and other portions of their wealth necessarily connected with it, will sink instantly, whenever it shall be seen that the Abolition movement is likely to break down the only protection which it has; and the wealth of the slave States will dwindle, and continue to dwindle, so long as there is any uncertainty in their political prospects arising from such a cause, and in exact proportion to the degree of that uncertainty. This is a principle, a law of society, that is sure to prevail over all other laws, because it is the concentrated action of the entire machinery of society on a single point for the time being, and so far as occasion calls, resulting not from the force of legislation directly—though it may be indirectly—but from the watchful care which every man has over his own interests, in a given state of things.

Political economy, in all its accidental bearings and in its scope, is, indeed, deep water for any man to dive into; but there are certain practical principles, applicable to this question, which may be obvious to all minds. First, slave property is the capital of the slave States. No dispute about that, as a general truth, and sufficiently comprehensive to decide the question now before us. Consequently, it is this property which gives value to all other property. Take it away, without a fair consideration, without indemnification, and all that portion of the United States is ruined. This is the nutshell of the matter, and comprehends it all.

“No, no,” it is said: “the same bone, and muscle, and sinews are there.” Nay, but you have changed the whole machinery of society; you have revolutionized it; you have put the master in the power of the quondam slave, and constituted the latter master over the former, without leaving the quondam master a penny in his pocket, unless peradventure, by some good luck, here and there one may have an interest somewhere else beyond the reach of your rapacity. Even with a fair and full indemnification in the present master’s hand, or subject to his order, after such a revolution; and in the midst of its disorders and unsettled condition of things, it would be, as we think, somewhat more than enough to baffle ordinary wisdom and perseverance to establish permanently and comfortably that new and untried state of society, that would be required; and it is not unlikely, that enough would abandon the attempt in discouragement,—seeking a better fortune in other States and Territories of the Union—to leave the residue inadequate to sustain the interests of the several Commonwealths thus deserted, in any degree of prosperity. They might dwindle and decline, till all would be glad to be out of them, if they could conscientiously. This is purely a question of domestic and political economy, that would depend on the practical workings of such a system. If this were the only field open before them, then they would all be compelled to stay, and put to their strength, and make the best of it. But we know, that men are always governed by their interests, and habits, as to where they will stay or go.

Certainly, we do not present the doubtfulness of such a prospect, pending on such contingencies, as an objection to the measure; but as one that claims to be considered in this discussion, that will of course be considered by the parties immediately concerned. It is impossible to determine beforehand how many influences, in such a new state of things, might operate to their discouragement or the contrary, or what would be the balance of those influences on either side, after each shall have been neutralized by each, to the extent of their action. It is sufficiently obvious, however, that they would require all the capital invested in a fair indemnification for the property resigned, to work such a system advantageously. It would be enough, and probably more than many of them could well endure, to change all their habits of society and of living so entirely as the new system would require; and those who could not satisfactorily accommodate themselves to it, would of course emigrate—and a general disposition to emigrate would probably involve political ruin—that is, ruin absolute; for nothing is better for mankind, in their associated capacity, than political prosperity, and nothing worse than political adversity.

Admitting, then, that the effects of the operation of such a system on the internal condition, absolute wealth, and political prosperity of the present slave States, would present the result as simply doubtful, as to what it would be with the capital of indemnification available on the premises—what would it be without any indemnification at all? We think this question might fairly be set down as the end of the story and of the argument. Every practical man must see, that it would be beggary and ruin; and that the entire field must be abandoned to the colored race, now there, to set up such a state of society as they might be able, unless the Government of the United States, in charity, should take it in charge as an immense poor house, to make the best of it they could—the white population in the mean time, reduced to poverty, and going out where they might, to begin the world anew.

But do the Abolitionists say, “These are questions we never regard ourselves as bound to consider, and consequences with which we have nothing to do.” But gentlemen, you are bound to consider these questions; you cannot rid yourselves of the responsibility of these consequences, if the work that produces them be yours. “But, no matter what becomes of the master, so the slave be free; if the master should be ruined, he has well deserved it.” Say this, gentlemen, but once—say it openly, fairly, publicly, that the world may understand you—and we think, that will be enough.