One man’s virtue becomes a standard of excellence for all; and there is now in Boston a simple citizen whose example may be a lesson to Commissioners, Marshals, Magistrates, while it fills all with the beauty of a generous act. I refer to Mr. Hayes, who resigned his place in the city police rather than take part in the pack of the Slave-Hunter. He is now the door-keeper of the public edifice honored this winter by the triumphant lectures on Slavery. Better be a door-keeper in the house of the Lord than a dweller in the tents of the ungodly. Has he not chosen well? Little think those now doing the work of Slavery that the time is near when all this will be dishonor and sadness. For myself, long ago my mind was made up. Nothing will I have to do with it. How can I help to make a slave? The idea alone is painful. To do this thing would plant in my soul a remorse which no time could remove or mitigate. His chains would clank in my ears. His cries would strike upon my heart. His voice would be my terrible accuser. Mr. President, may no such voice fall on your soul or mine!
Yes, Sir, here our duty is plain and paramount. While the Slave Oligarchy, through its unrepealed Slave Bill, undertakes to enslave our free soil, we can only turn for protection to a Public Opinion worthy of a humane, just, and religious people, which shall keep perpetual guard over the liberties of all within our borders. On this from the beginning I have relied. On this I now rely. Wherever it is already strong, I would keep it so; wherever it is weak, I would strengthen it, until of itself it is an all-sufficient protection, with watch and ward surrounding the fugitive, surrounding all. And this Public Opinion, with Freedom as its countersign, must proclaim not only the overthrow of the Slave Bill, but also the overthrow of the Slave Oligarchy behind,—the two pressing duties of the North, essential to our own emancipation; and believe me, Sir, while they remain undone, nothing is done.
Mr. President, far already have I trespassed upon your generous patience; but there are other things pressing for utterance. Something would I say of the arguments by which our Enterprise is commended; something also of the appeal it makes to people of every condition; and something, too, of union, as a vital necessity, among all who love Freedom.
I know not if our work will be soon accomplished. I know not, Sir, if you or I shall live to see in our Republic the vows of the Fathers at length fulfilled, as the last fetter falls from the last slave. But one thing I do know, beyond all doubt or question: that this Enterprise must go on; that, in its irresistible current, it will sweep schools, colleges, churches, the intelligence, the conscience, and the religious aspiration of the land, while all who stand in its way or speak evil of it are laying up sorrow and shame for their children, if not for themselves. Better strive in this cause, even unsuccessfully, than never strive at all. The penalty of indifference is akin to the penalty of opposition,—as is well pictured by the great Italian poet, when, among the saddest on the banks of Acheron, rending the air with outcries of torment, shrieks of anger, and smiting of hands, he finds the troop of dreary souls who had been ciphers in the great conflicts of life:—
“Mingled with whom, of their disgrace the proof,
Are the vile angels, who did not rebel,
Nor kept their faith to God, but stood aloof.”[23]
There is no weapon in the celestial armory of Truth, no sweet influence from the skies, no generous word from human lips, which may not be employed. Ours, too, is the argument alike of the Conservative and the Reformer; for our cause stands on the truest conservatism and the truest reform. It seeks the conservation of Freedom itself, and of kindred historic principles; it seeks also the reform of Slavery, and of the kindred tyranny by which it is upheld. Religion, morals, justice, economy, the Constitution, each and all, may be invoked; and one person is touched by one argument, while another person is touched by another. You do not forget how Christopher Columbus won Isabella of Spain to his enterprise of discovery. He began with the temptation of extending her dominions; but she hearkened not. Next he promised the dazzling wealth of the Indies; and still she hearkened not. When, at last, to her pious imagination were pictured poor heathen with souls to be saved, then the youthful Queen poured her royal jewels into the lap of the Genoese adventurer, and at her expense went forth that small fleet which gave to Spain and to mankind a New World.