The change of opinion, so disastrous in result, was gradual. Though in its successive stages easily detected by the careful inquirer, it did not become manifest to the whole country till 1820, when it burst forth in the Missouri Question. Then, for the first time, Slavery showed itself openly violent, insolent, belligerent. Freedom was checked, but saved something by a compromise,—announced, at the moment of its adoption, by Charles Pinckney, of South Carolina, as a triumph of the South,—where, in consideration of the admission of Missouri as a Slave State, thus securing additional preponderance to the Slave Power, it was stipulated that Slavery should be prohibited in certain outlying territory, at that time trodden only by savages. Then came a lull, during which the change was still at work, until, contemporaneously with the abolition of Slavery in the British West Indies, the discussion was lighted anew. Meanwhile slaves augmented in price, and slave-masters became more decided. In timid deference to the world, they at first ventured no defence of Slavery in the abstract; but at last, bolder grown under the lead of Mr. Calhoun, they threw aside all reserve, openly assailed the opinions of the Fathers, audaciously denied the self-evident truths of the Declaration of Independence, and by formal resolution asserted the new dogma of Slavery in the Territories. This was as late as 1847. A letter of that day, from Mr. Calhoun, addressed to a member of the Alabama Legislature, shows that there was an element of policy in this exaggeration. His desire was “to force the Slavery issue” on the North, believing that delay was dangerous, as the Slave-Masters were then relatively stronger, both morally and politically, than they would ever be again.
At last the end has come. Slavery is openly pronounced, at one time, the black marble keystone of our National Arch,—at another time, the corner-stone of our Republican edifice; then it is vaunted as the highest type of civilization,—then as a blessing to the master as well as the slave,—and then again as ennobling to the master, if not to the slave. It is only the first step which costs, and therefore the authors of these opinions, so shocking to the moral sense, do not hesitate at other opinions equally shocking to the reason, even to the extent of finding impossible sanctions for Slavery in the Constitution. Listening to these extravagances, who would not exclaim, with Ben Jonson in the play?—
“Grave fathers, he’s possessed; again I say,
Possessed: nay, if there be possession and
Obsession, he has both.”[155]
And now, fellow-citizens, what is Slavery? This is no question of curiosity or philanthropy merely; for when the National Government, which you and I at the North help to constitute, is degraded to be its instrument, and all the National Territories are proclaimed open to its Barbarism, and the Constitution itself is perverted to its support, the whole subject naturally, logically, and necessarily enters into our discussion. It cannot be avoided; it cannot be blinked out of sight. Nay, you must pass upon it by your votes at the coming election. Futile is the plea that we at the North have nothing to do with Slavery. Granted that we have nothing to do with it in the States, we have much to do with all its irrational assumptions under the Constitution, and just so long as these are urged must Slavery be discussed. It must be laid bare in its enormity, precisely as though it were proposed to plant it here in the streets of New York. Nor can such a wrong—foul in itself, and fouler still in pretensions—be dealt with tamely. Tameness is surrender. And charity, too, may be misapplied. Forgiving those who trespass against us, I know not if we are called to forgive those who trespass against others,—to forgive those who trespass against the Republic,—to forgive those who trespass against Civilization,—to forgive those who trespass against a whole race,—to forgive those who trespass against the universal Human Family,—finally, to forgive those who trespass against God. Such trespassers exist among us, possessing the organization of party, holding the control of the National Government, constituting a colossal Power, and
“what seems its head
The likeness of a President has on.”
Surely, if ever there was a moment when every faculty should be bent to the service, and all invigorated by an inspiring zeal, it is now, while the battle between Civilization and Barbarism is still undecided, and you are summoned to resist the last desperate shock. To this work I am not equal; but I do not shrink from the duties of my post. Alas! human language is gentle, and the human voice is weak. Words only are mine, when I ought to command thunderbolts. Voice only is mine, when, like the ancient Athenian, I ought to carry the weapons of Zeus on the tongue. Nor would I transcend any just rule of moderation, or urge this warfare too far among persons. Humbly do I recognize the authority of Him, who, when reviled, reviled not again; but this divine example teaches me to expose crime, and not to hesitate, though the Scribes and Pharisees, chief-priests and money-changers, cry out. And it shows how words of invective may come from lips of peace. “Woe unto you, Scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye compass sea and land to make one proselyte, and when he is made, ye make him twofold more the child of hell than yourselves.” Thus spake the Saviour in Jerusalem; and he still speaks, not in Jerusalem only, but wherever men are won from truth, wherever crime exists to be exposed and denounced.
What, then, I repeat, is Slavery? The occasion forbids detail; but enough must be presented to place this outrage in its true light,—as something worse even than a constant state of war, where the master is constant aggressor. Here I put aside for the moment all the tales which reach us from the house of bondage,—all the cumulative, crushing testimony, from slaves and masters alike,—all the barbarous incidents which help to arouse a yet too feeble indignation,—in short, all the glimpses which come to us from this mighty Bluebeard’s chamber. All these I put aside, not because they are of little moment in exhibiting the true character of Slavery, but because I desire to arraign Slavery on grounds above all controversy, impeachment, or suspicion, even from Slave-Masters themselves. Not on wonderful story, where the genius of woman has prevailed, not even on indisputable facts, do I now accuse Slavery, but on its character as revealed in its own simple definition of itself. Out of its own mouth do I condemn it.