Is judged a partner in the trade.”
Reading in a small book something like—
“The British flag floats over land and sea,
And beneath it the slave is free,”
my joy knew no bounds. Hardly could I read the lines; the tears dimmed my eyes, and I cried, “Father of the poor, bless the flag of England! Wave, wave thou mighty flag with the cross on thy bosom, and draw the low, despised children of God to come under thy protection. Thy charms melt the iron that binds the feet of slaves! Wave majestically and on high, that the bond may see thee through the wide country stretching from Maine to Florida, and from Massachusetts to California!”
After a few months had passed, instructions from the American Unitarian Association reached Mr. Dall, authorizing him to send a couple of young men to America, that they might prepare themselves for the ministry under its care. Mr. Dall asked the young man who had written to the Association to get ready, and hearing that he could not sail alone, found another to join him. By and by the first of these began to make excuses, saying, he would be ready within a year or two, etc., while the second stood alone, ready to come provided he could find a companion. Mr. Dall came to me and laid the affair before me. He did not urge me, but he reminded me of my promise and inclination to come to America. I regarded this as an especial call from God, and thus I prayed: “Father, wilt thou indeed have thy child, who first proposed going to America, carry out the undertaking? I see the cost of the project: it will deprive me of my mother, sisters, brother, home, and kindred during my lifetime; yet, if Thou wilt have me make these sacrifices for the benefit of thy other children, thy will be done. Enable me, then, to let the dead bury their dead, and to follow the call of Duty!”
I gave my word to God, through Mr. Dall, and began at once to get ready, because the call was so sudden that there were only six or seven days for making the necessary preparations.
I had then been suffering from the effects of a violent sickness, which had confined me to my bed for twenty-one days, a little while before. My body was so weak that I could hardly stand long without holding to something. But this did not frighten me. Within the weak, unhealthy frame, my moral courage began to move as usual, with vigorous throbbings, and I determined to sail on the day fixed by my friends. It required great caution to arrange my things, as it would have been impossible for me to leave home had any of my nearest relatives known my purpose. I wrote some letters for my mother, uncle, brother, and other friends, and hid them under the papers. The contents of these letters differed according to the person I wrote to; but to no one did I tell where, why, and how long I should be gone. I begged in my letters to six different persons that they would take care of my dear mother,—asking one to visit her occasionally, the second to attend to her shopping (as the Hindoo high-caste females do not go to stores or market), a third to read my letters to her, etc.
Three days, I believe, before I left India, my companion and I were walking on the “Strand,” looking at the ships and talking the matter over. He said the Americans are not trustworthy people,—that perhaps the captain would take us to some island and sell us to the savages, etc.
Once more we talked upon the American Slave-Trade. I hear in this country the pro-slavery people call the Abolitionists fanatics, affirming that they misrepresent the system, that they exaggerate the cruelties practised on the slaves by their masters. But the world beyond the United States does not blame the slaveholders merely for the true or supposed cruelties practised by them. I hate the system itself; the very name is a terror to me. As a pea has two pods which enclose the seeds arranged in order in its womb, so slavery has two pods, buying and selling human beings, and these enclose in them vices of all descriptions. They say the slaveholders feed and clothe their slaves comfortably. This does not justify the system. They do not deserve our thanks for their kindness to the slaves. Slavery will be profitable in proportion to the good treatment the masters extend towards the slaves; so that kindness to the slaves is generally based upon the self-interest of their masters, for which no thanks are due to them. “If ye love your brethren only what thank have ye? do not even the publicans so?” Who would thank a farmer that feeds and fattens his turkeys to make money out of them at the thanksgiving market?