Nathaniel Peabody Rogers: The New Hampshire Courier, November 10, 1838

The New Hampshire Courier has a correspondent, “Homo,” out in defence of colonization and against anti-slavery. "Homo" is a man every inch of him, for coming out in black and white. Welcome, good Homo. And thanks to brother Courier (if niggers may be allowed the expression) for giving “Homo” place in his columns. It will take a Homo to maintain the ground — not against us, but against his own readers. But courage, good Homo! — on with your numbers. We have glanced over No. 1, and seen the face of No. 2. Courage! we say. You have no great of a task — not much of a stint—nothing more to encounter than humanity and divinity — and heaven and earth. Cheer, man, the odds are with you.

Welcome, Homo, to the tented field. Abolitionists are tired of fighting intangible enemies. They glory to see one visible and tangible take the plain, and stretch his lines. They rejoice at the unfurling of flags and the glitter of the drawn blade. We will diligently and respectfully peruse “Homo,” and if, by and by, we shall copy any thing unhomogeneous in his appeals to his countrymen, we will give it such essay as our people may. We rejoice that the great rights of humanity are at length being esteemed of sufficient dignity to be argued down.

SOURCE: Collection from the Miscellaneous Writings of Nathaniel Peabody Rogers, Second Edition, p. 47 which states it was published in the Herald of Freedom of November 10, 1838.

Anti-Slavery Meeting in Andover, published August 8, 1835

MR. EDITOR — I regret that the former account I was sent of your labors of our excellent brothers Thompson and Phelps, was so meager a statement of their untiring efforts among us.  Circumstances, however, obliged me to compress into a small space, what was worthy of being given at much greater length; and for the benefit of those who have not the privilege of listening to the discussion of a question of so much importance to every American citizen as that of slavery, a fuller sketch of the remaining meetings shall be given.  As my remarks will be confined for the most part to the speeches of Mr. Thompson, it must not be supposed that I can give anything like an adequate idea of the cogency of his arguments or of the power of his eloquence.  To eulogize him as an orator would be idle.  It would be like daubing paint upon a finished portrait, which would only soil it instead of adding to its beauty. Those who would form any just conception of Mr. Thompson as a public speaker and a christian philanthropist, must both see and hear him, and those who have once listened to him, are well aware that even an analysis of a speech of his , so closely joined in all its parts, so replete with profound thought, and so profusely embellished with rhetorical flowers of every hue and ever ordour, cannot be embodied in a single brief paragraph.  I shall therefore not attempt to give his own expressions, but merely a general description of his discourse.

On Sunday evening, July 12th, Mr. Thompson addressed a crowded audience, from Ezekiel xxviii. 14, 15, 16 – “Thou art the anointed the cherub that covereth; and I have set thee so : thou wast upon the holy mountain of God: thou hast walked up and down in the midst of these stones of fire. Thou wast perfect in thy ways from the day that thou wast created, till iniquity was found in thee. By the multitude of thy merchandise they have filled the midst of thee with violence, and thou hast sinned: therefore I will cast thee as profane out of the mountain of God: I will destroy thee, O covering cherub, from the midst of the stones of fire.”

Mr. Thompson remarked that though this was a passage of inimitable beauty, it was one of tremendous and awful import. While it drew the picture of the wealth and grandeur of ancient Tyre, it contained the prediction of its downfall. Mr. Thompson then proceeded to portray in matchless colors the prosperity and glory of the renowned city, whose “builders had perfected her beauty, whose borders were in the midst of the sea, whose mariners were the men of Sidon, and who was a merchant to the people of many islands.” Her fir trees were brought from Hermon, her oaks from Bashan, her cedars from Lebanon, her blue and purple and fine linen from Egypt, her wheat and oil and honey from Judea, her spices and gold and precious stones from Arabia, her silver from Tarsus, her emeralds and coral and agate from Syria, her warriors from Persia, and her slaves from Greece. Her palaces were radiant with jewels, and many kings were filled with the multitude of the riches of her merchandise. But iniquity was found in her. She had kept back the hire of the laborer by fraud. By the multitude of her riches she was filled with violence. She made merchandise of the bodies and souls of men, therefore she should be cast down. Many nations should come up against her and destroy her walls and break down her towers. All this had been literally fulfilled.

Mr. Thompson then applied his subject to America. Your country, said he, is peculiarly an anointed cherub. Heaven smiled upon the self-denying enterprise of your praying, pilgrim fathers, and in two centuries a great nation has risen into being — a nation whose territories stretches from the Canadas to the Gulf of Mexico, and from the Atlantic to the Rocky Mountains — a nation whose prowess by land and by sea is unsurpassed by any people that have a name — a nation whose markets are filled with the luxuries of every clime, and whose merchandise is diffused over the world. The keels of your vessels cut all waters. Your ships lie along the docks of every port of Europe, and are anchored under the walls of China. The deer and the buffalo fall before the aim of your hunters, and the eagle is stricken down from his eyry. Your hardy tars visit the ice-bound coasts of the North, and transfix the monsters of the polar seas. Your coasts are thronged with populous and extended cities, and in the interior may be seen the spires of your churches towering above the beautiful villages that surround them. Above every other nation under heaven, yours is distinguished for its christian enterprise. You can give the Bible to every family within the limits of your own territory, and pledge it to the world. Your missionaries are in all quarters of the globe, and your seventeen thousand clergy are preaching salvation, in the midst of your own population. Other nations of Christendom behold with complacency the good effected by your charitable societies, and would be proud to emulate you. No nation has ever been so peculiarly blessed. You are placed upon the holy mountain of God, and walk up and down in the midst of the stones of fire, but you have sinned. Ye make merchandise of the bodies and souls of men. Ye have torn the African from his quiet home, and subjected him to interminable, bondage in a land of strangers. Violence is in the midst of you, and the oppressor walks abroad unpunished. One-sixth part of your whole population are doomed to perpetual slavery. The cotton tree blooms, and the cane field wanes, because the black man tills the soil. The sails of your vessels whiten the ocean, their holds filled with sugar, and their decks burdened with cotton, because the black man smarts under the driver's lash, while the scorching rays of a tropical sun fall blistering upon his skin. He labors and faints, and another riots on the fruits of his unrequited toils. He is bought and sold as the brute, and has nothing that he can call his own. Is he a husband? the next hour may separate him forever from the object of his affections. Is he a father? the child of his hopes may the next moment be torn from his bleeding bosom, and carried he knows not whither, but at best, to a state of servitude more intolerable than death. He looks back upon the past, and remembers his many stripes and tears. He looks forward, and no gleam of hope breaks in upon his sorrow-stricken bosom. Despair rankles in his heart and withers all his energies, and he longs to find rest in the grave. But his dark mind is uninformed of his immortal nature, and when he dies he dies without the consolations of religion, for in christian America there is no Bible for the slave. Your country being thus guilty, it behoves every citizen of your republic to consider lest the fate of Tyre be yours.

Mr. Thompson closed by expressing his determination to labor in behalf of those in bonds, till the last tear was wiped from the eye of the slave, and the last fetter broken from his heel; and then, continued he, then let a western breeze bear me back to the land of my birth, or let me find a spot to lay my bones in the midst of a grateful people, and a people FREE indeed.

Never did the writer of this article listen to such eloquence; and never before did he witness an audience hanging with such profound attention upon the lips of a speaker. But those who take the trouble to read this article, must not suppose that what I have here stated is given in Mr. Thompson's own words. Perhaps I may have made use of some of his expressions, but my object has been to give a general view of this surpassingly excellent address of our beloved brother.

On Monday evening, Mr. Thompson gave a lecture on St. Domingo. It being preliminary to subsequent lectures, it was mostly statistics from the time of the discovery of the island, down to the year 1789. Mr. Thompson remarked that he had a two-fold object in view in giving an account of St. Domingo. First, to show the capacity of the African race for governing themselves; and, second, to show that immediate emancipation was safe, as illustrated by its effects on that island. St. Domingo, he said, was remarkable for being the place where Columbus was betrayed — for its being the first of the West India Islands to which negro slaves were carried from the coast of Africa — for the cruel treatment of the first settlers in the Island to the aborigines — for the triumph of the liberated slaves over the French, and those of the islanders who joined them — for being the birth place of the noble minded, the gifted, the honored, but afterwards, betrayed Toussaint L’Ouverture, who was born a slave, and a great part of his life labored as a slave, yet as soon as his chains were broken off, he rose at once to a man — to a general to a commander-in-chief, and finally to the Governor of a prosperous and happy Republic.

At the close of the exercises, Mr. Thompson informed the audience, that on the next evening they would be addressed by Wm. Lloyd Garrison, Editor of the Liberator, — the much despised and villified Wm. Lloyd Garrison was to address the citizens of Andover on the subject of slavery.

Tuesday evening arrived, and with it arrived Wm. Lloyd Garrison, Editor of the Liberator. The house was crowded by many, who, we doubt not, came from mere curiosity, to see the man who had been held up to the world as the “enemy of all righteousness — the “disturber of the public peace — the “libeller of his country” — the “outlawed fanatic”—the reckless incendiary, who was propagating his seditious sentiments from one end of the land to the other, and yet in this free country, suffered to live notwithstanding.

After prayer and singing, brother Garrison arose, and said, he stood before them as the one who had been represented to the public as the propagator of discord, and the enemy of his country — that almost every opprobrious epithet had been attached to his name; but since one term of reproval had been spared him — since his enemies had never called him a slaveholder, he would forgive them all the rest, and thank them for their magnanimity. He spoke for some time on the supercilious inquiry so often iterated and reiterated by our opponents; Why don't you go to the South? He remarked, that the very individuals who made this inquiry, and were denouncing us as fanatics, well knew that death would be the lot of him who should broach such sentiments at the South, and should the advocates of abolition throw away their lives by recklessly throwing themselves into the hands of those who were thirsting for their blood, then indeed, might these haughty querists smile over their mangled bodies, and with justice pronounce them fanatics. He touched upon several other important points which I must pass over in silence. His manner was mild, his address dignified and dispassionate, and many who never saw him before, and whose opinions, or rather prejudices were formed from the false reports of his enemies, and confirmed by not reading his paper, were compelled, in spite of themselves, to form an idea entirely the reverse of what they had previously entertained of him. His address did much towards removing the prejudice that many had against him, and proved an excellent catholicon to the stomachs of those who are much given to squeamishness, whenever they hear the name of Garrison mentioned.

On Wednesday evening, Mr. Thompson was to have continued his remarks on St. Domingo, but a heavy rain prevented most of the audience from coming together, and by the request of those present, the address was deferred until the next evening, and the time spent in familiar conversation. An interesting discussion took place, and lasted about an hour and a half. Many important questions were canvassed, to the entire satisfaction, we believe, of all who listened to them.

On Thursday evening, Mr. Thompson resumed his account of St. Domingo. Commencing with the year 1790, he showed that the beginning of what are termed “the horrid scenes of St. Domingo,” was in consequence of a decree passed by the National Convention, granting to the free people of color the enjoyment of the same political privileges as the whites, and again in 1791, another decree was passed, couched in still stronger language, declaring that all the free people of color in the French islands were entitled to all the privileges of citizenship. When this decree reached Cape Francais, it excited the whites to great hostility against the free people of color. The parties were arrayed in arms against each other, and blood and conflagration followed. The Convention, in order to prevent the threatening evils, immediately rescinded the decree. By this act, the free blacks were again deprived of their rights, which so enraged them, that they commenced fresh hostilities upon the whites, and the Convention was obliged to re-enact the former decree, giving to them the same rights as white citizens. A civil war continued to rage in the island until 1793, when, in order to extinguish it, and at the same time repel the British, who were then hovering round the coasts, it was suggested that the slaves should be armed in defence of the island. Accordingly in 1793, proclamation was made, promising “to give freedom to all the slaves who would range themselves under the banners of the Republic.” This scheme produced the desired effect. The English were driven from the Island, the civil commotions were suppressed, and peace and order were restored. After this, the liberated slaves were industrious and happy, and continued to work on the same plantations as before, and this state of things continued until 1802, when Buonaparte sent out a military force to restore slavery in the Island. Having enjoyed the blessings of freedom for nine years, the blacks resolved to die rather than again be subjected to bondage. They rose in the strength of free men, and with Toussaint L’Ouverture at their head they encountered their enemies. Many of them, however, were taken by the French, and miserably perished. Some were burnt to death, some were nailed to the masts of ships, some were sown up in sacks, poignarded, and then thrown into the sea as food for sharks, some were confined in the holds of vessels, and suffocated with the fumes of brimstone, and many were torn in pieces by the blood hounds, which the French employed to harass and hunt them in the forests and fastnesses of the mountains. At length the scene changed. The putrifying carcases of the unburied slain poisoned the atmosphere, and produced sickness in the French army. In this state of helplessness they were besieged by the black army, their provisions were cut off, a famine raged among them so that they were compelled at last to subsist upon the flesh of the blood hounds, that they had exported from Cuba as auxiliaries in conquering the islanders. The French army being nearly exterminated, a miserable remnant put to sea, and left the Island to the quiet possession of their conquerors. Mr. Thompson concluded with the following summary: First, the revolution in St. Domingo originated between the whites and the free people of color, previous to any act of emancipation. Second, the slaves after their emancipation remained peaceful, contented, industrious, and happy, until Buonaparte made the attempt to restore slavery in the Island. Third, the history of St. Domingo proves the capacity of the black man for the enjoyment of liberty, his ability of self-government, and improvement, and the safety of immediate emancipation. Friday evening, Mr. Thompson closed his account of St. Domingo, by giving a brief statement of its present condition. He showed by documents published in the West Indies, that its population was rapidly multiplying, its exports annually increasing, and the inhabitants of the Island improving much faster than could be reasonably expected.

After the address, opportunity was given for any individuals to propose questions. A gentleman slaveholder commenced. He made several unimportant inquiries, and along with them, abused Mr. Thompson, by calling him a “foreign incendiary.” Mr. Thompson answered in his usual christian calmness and dignity, not rendering reviling for reviling. The discusion continued to a late hour, and when it closed the audience gave evidence of being well satisfied with the answers given, and some who attended that evening for the first time, subscribed their names to the Constitution. Thus closed Mr. Thompson's labors with us for the present, and he left town on Saturday, July 18th. Mr. Phelps remained and addressed us on Sabbath evening, but the small space left to me, will not admit of my giving any account of it. As to the good accomplished by the labors of Messrs. Thompson and Phelps, some further account may be given hereafter. At present, I will only say, that upwards of 200 have joined the Anti-Slavery Society since they came among us.

Yours, in behalf of the A. S. Society at Andover,

R. REED, Cor. Secretary.

SOURCES: Isaac Knapp, Publisher, Letters and Addresses by G. Thompson [on American Negro Slavery] During His Mission in the United States, From Oct. 1st, 1834, to Nov. 27, 1835, p. 77-83; “Anti-Slavery Meetings at Andover,” The Liberator, Boston, Massachusetts, Saturday, August 8, 1835, p. 1.

Nathaniel Peabody Rogers: Color-phobia, November 10, 1838

COLOR-PHOBIA.

Our people have got it. They have got it in the blue, collapse stage. Many of them have got it so bad, they can't get well. They will die of it. It will be a mercy, if the nation does not. What a dignified, philosophic malady! Dread of complexion. They don't know they have got it — or think, rather, they took it the natural way. But they were inoculated. It was injected into their veins and incided into their systems, by old Doctor Slavery, the great doctor that the famous Dr. Wayland studied with. There is a kind of varioloid type, called colonization. They generally go together, or all that have one are more apt to catch the other. Inoculate for one, (no matter which,) and they will have both, before they get over it. The remedy and the preventive, if taken early, is a kine-pock sort of matter, by the name of anti-slavery. It is a safe preventive and a certain cure. None that have it, genuine, ever catch slavery or colonization or the color-phobia. You can't inoculate either into them. It somehow changes and redeems the constitution, so that it is unsusceptible of them. An abolitionist can sleep safely all night in a close room, where there has been a colonization meeting the day before. He might sleep with It. R. Gurley and old Dr. Proudfit, three in a bed, and not catch it. The remedy was discovered by Dr. William Lloyd Jenner-Garrison.

This color-phobia is making terrible havoc among our communities. Anti-slavery drives it out, and after a while cures it. But it is a base, low, vulgar ailment. It is meaner, in fact, than the itch. It is worse to get rid of than the “seven years' itch.” It is fouler than Old Testament leprosy. It seems to set the dragon into a man, and make him treat poor, dark-skinned folks like a tiger. It goes hardest with dark-complect white people. They have it longer and harder than light-skinned people. It makes them sing out “Nigger—nigger,” sometimes in their sleep. Sometimes they make a noise like this, “Darkey—darkey— darkey.” Sometimes, “Wully—wully—wully.” They will turn up their noses, when they see colored people, especially if they are of a pretty rank, savory habit of person, themselves. They are generally apt to turn up their noses, as though there was some “bad smell” in the neighborhood, when they have it bad, and are naturally pretty odoriferous. It is a tasty disorder — a beautiful ailment; very genteel, and apt to go in “first families.” We should like to have Hogarth take a sketch of a community that had it — of ours, for instance, when the St. Vitus’ fit was on. We have read somewhere of a painter, who made so droll a picture, that he died a-laughing at the sight of it. Hogarth might not laugh at this picture. It would be a sight to cry at, rather than laugh, especially if he could see the poor objects of our frenzy, when the fit is on — which indeed is all the time, for it is an unintermittent. Our attitude would be most ridiculous and ludicrous, if it were not too mortifying and humiliating and cruel. Our Hogarth would be apt to die of something else than laughter, at sight of his sketch.

The courtly malady is the secret of all our anti-abolition, and all our mobocracy. It shuts up all the consecrated meetinghouses — and all the temples of justice, the court-houses, against the friends of negro liberty. It is all alive with fidgets about desecrating the Sabbath with anti-slavery lectures. It thinks anti-slavery pew-owners can't go into them, or use their pulpit, when it is empty, without leave of the minister whom they employ to preach in it. It will forcibly shut people out of their own houses and off their own land, — not with the respectful violence of enemies and trespassers, but the contemptuous unceremoniousness of the plantation overseer — mingled moreover with the slavish irascibility of the poor negro, when he holds down his fellow-slave for a flogging. It sneers at human rights through the free press. It handed John B. Mahin over to the alligators of Kentucky. It shot Elijah P. Lovejoy at Alton. It dragged away the free school, at Canaan. It set Pennsylvania Hall a-fire.

It broke Miss Crandall's school windows, and threw filth into her well. It stormed the female prayer meeting in Boston, with a “property and standing” forlorn hope. It passed the popish resolution at Littleton, in Grafton county. It shut up the meeting-house at Meredith Bridge, against minister and all, — and the homely court-house there, and howled like bedlam around the little, remote district school-house, and broke the windows at night. It excludes consideration and prayer in regard to the forlorn and christian-made heathenism of the American colored man, from county conferences and clerical associations. It broods over the mousings of the New York Observer, and gives keenness to the edge and point of its New Hampshire name-sake. It votes anti-slavery lectures out of the New Hampshire state house, and gives it public hearing on petitions, in a seven by nine committee room. It answers the most insulting mandate of southern governors, calling for violations of the state constitution and bill of rights, by legislative report and resolves that the paramount rights of slavery are safe enough in New Hampshire, without these violations. It sneers and scowls at woman's speaking in company, unless to simper, when she is flattered by a fool of the masculine or neuter gender. It won't sign an anti-slavery petition, for fear it will put back emancipation half a century. It votes in favor of communing with slaveholders, and throwing the pulpit wide open to men-stealers, to keep peace in the churches, and prevent disunion. It will stifle and strangle sympathy for the slave and " remembrance of those in bonds," to prevent disturbance of religious revivals. It will sell the American slave to buy Bibles, or hire negro-hating and negro-buying missionaries for foreign heathen of all quarters but christian-wasted Africa. It prefers American lecturers on slavery, to having that foreign emissary, George Thompson, come over here, to interfere with American rights and prejudices. It abhors "church action" and "meddling with politics." In short, it abhors slavery in the abstract — wishes it might be done away, but denies the right of any body or any thing to devise its overthrow, but slavery itself and slaveholders. It prays for the poor slave, that he might be elevated, while it stands both feet on his breast to keep him down. It prays God might open a way in his own time for the deliverance of the slave, while it stands, with arms akimbo, right across the way he has already opened. Time would fail us to tell of its extent and depth in this free country, or the deeds it has done. Anti-slavery must cure it, or it must die out like the incurable drunkards.

SOURCE: Collection from the Miscellaneous Writings of Nathaniel Peabody Rogers, Second Edition, p. 44-7 which states it was published in the Herald of Freedom of November 10, 1838.

Samuel Gridley Howe to Congressman Horace Mann, Thursday, January 6, 1853

Boston, Thursday, 6th Jan. 1853.

My Dear Mann: — You will see that the Commonwealth has gone into new hands. I was foolish enough to re-invest in the concern — but I ought not to say foolish either, for I did not wish to see it go down with dishonour. I wished to nail the anti-slavery flag to the mast and see her swim or sink with that flying.

Downer, Alley, Sewall, Baldwin¹ and myself own the concern. I have been for some time doing the Spirit of the Press and helping in my way. How do you like her looks now? I am going to try to get Wright² to work. Can you not help us from Washington, or find someone who will send us an occasional letter? Would you think of taking hold of the paper after the fourth of March as editor in chief, that is, director of the political pop-gun, and make of it a cannon? You would be called upon for only four or five columns a week. We are going to pay our contributors as much as we can, but that is as yet only one dollar a column; we shall pay more if the income will allow it.

There is what seems to me a squeamishness among members of Congress about being known as writers for the press.

If you cannot send us anything, let us know who can.

Ever faithfully,

S. G. Howe.

________________

¹ Messrs. Samuel Downer, J. B. Alley, S. E. Sewall, and J. B. Baldwin.

Mr. Mann once wrote thus to Samuel Gridley Howe concerning Downer:

“. . . Boston seemed more than half empty when I found you were not in it. But I saw Downer, who is almost enough to save a city. If, when Abraham drove that sharp Yankee bargain about saving Sodom, higgling and screwing and beating down, until he reduced the number of the righteous to ten;—if the Lord could have been induced to lower his terms from that number, I can conceive of his saying: ‘Well, if you can find one Sam. Downer there, I'll spare the cursed city for him. . . .’”

² Elizur Wright.

SOURCE: Laura E. Richards, Editor, Letters and Journals of Samuel Gridley Howe, Volume 2, p. 388-9

Nathaniel Peabody Rogers: Jaunt to Vermont, October 20, 1838

We have recently journeyed through a portion of this free state, and it is not all imagination in us, that sees, in its bold scenery, — its uninfected, inland position, its mountainous, but fertile and verdant surface, the secret of the noble and antislavery predisposition of its people. They are located for freedom. Liberty's home is on their Green Mountains. Their farmer-republic no where touches the ocean — “the highway of the” world's crimes, as well as its “nations.” It has no seaport for the importation of slavery, or the exportation of its own highland republicanism. Vermont is accordingly the earliest anti-slavery state, and should slavery ever prevail over this nation to its utter subjugation, the last, lingering footsteps of retiring liberty will be seen — not, as Daniel Webster said, in the proud old commonwealth of Massachusetts, about Bunker hill and Faneuil hall, (places long since deserted of freedom) — but wailing, like Jephtha's daughter, among the “hollows,” and along the sides of the Green Mountains.

Vermont shows gloriously at this autumn season. Frost has gently laid hands on her exuberant vegetation, tinging her rockmaple woods, without abating the deep verdure of her herbage. Every where along her peopled hollows and her bold hill-slopes and summits is alive with green, while her endless hard-wood forests are uniformed with all the hues of early fall — richer than the regimentals of the kings that glittered in the train of Napoleon on the confines of Poland, when he lingered there on the last outposts of summer, before plunging into the snow-drifts of the North — more gorgeous than the “array” of Saladin's lifeguard in the wars of the Crusaders — or of “Solomon in all his glory” — decked in all colors and hues, but still the hues of life. Vegetation touched, but not dead, or if killed, not bereft yet of  “signs of life.” “Decay's effacing fingers” had not yet “swept the ‘hills,’ where beauty lingers.” All looked fresh as growing foliage. Vermont frosts don't seem to be “killing frosts.” They only change aspects of beauty. The mountain pastures, verdant to the peaks, and over the peaks of the high, steep hills, were covered with the amplest feed, and clothed with countless sheep; — the hay-fields heavy with second crop, in some partly cut and abandoned, as if in very weariness and satiety, blooming with honey-suckle, contrasting strangely with the colors on the woods — the fat cattle and the long-tailed colts and close-built Morgans wallowing in it, up to the eyes, or the cattle down to rest, with full bellies, by ten in the morning. Fine but narrow roads wound along among the hills — free, almost entirely, of stone, and so smooth as to be safe for the most rapid driving — made of their rich, dark, powder-looking soil. Beautiful villages or scattered settlements breaking upon the delighted view, on the meandering way, making the ride a continued scene of excitement and animation. The air fresh, free and wholesome, — no steaming of the fever and ague of the West, or the rank slaveholding of the South,—the road almost dead level for miles and miles among mountains that lay over the land like the great swells of the sea, and looking, in the prospect, as though there could be no passage. On the whole, we never, in our limited travel, experienced any thing like it, and we commend any one, given to despondency or dumps, to a ride, in beginning of October, chaise-top back, fleet horses tandem, fresh from the generous fodder and thorough-going groomage of Steel's tavern, a forenoon Tide, from White-river Sharon, through Tunbridge, to Chelsea Hollow. There's nothing on Salem turnpike like the road, and nothing, any where, a match for “the lay of the land” and the ever-varying, animating landscape.

We can't praise Vermonters for their fences or their barns, and it seems to us their out-houses and door-yards hardly correspond with the well-built dwellings. But they have no stones for wall — no red oak or granite for posts, or pine growth for rails and boards in their hard-wood forests, and we queried, as we observed their “insufficient fences” and lack of pounds, whether such barriers as our side of the Connecticut we have to rear about an occasional patch of feed, could be necessary in a country where no “creatures” appeared to run in the road, and where there was not choice enough in field and pasture, to make it an object for any body to be breachy, or to stray — and where every hoof seemed to have its hands full at home. Poor fences there seemed to answer all purposes of good ones among us, where every blade of grass has to be watched and guarded from the furtive voracity of hungry New Hampshire stock.

The farmers looked easy and care-free. We saw none that seemed back-broken with hard work, or brow-wrinkled with fear of coming to want. How do your crops come in, sir? “O, middlin’.” — How much wheat? “Well, about three hundred. Wheat han't filled well.” — How much hay do you cut? “Well, sir, from eighty to one hundred ton.” Corn? “Over four hundred; corn is good.” How many potatoes? “Well, I don't know; we've dug from eight hundred to one thousand.” How many cattle do you keep? “Only thirty odd head this year; cattle are scarce.” Sheep? “Three hundred and odd.” Horse kind? “Five,” and so on. And yet the Vermont farmers are leaving for the West.

The only thing we saw, that looked anti-republican, was their magnificent State House, which gleams among their hills more like some ancient Greek temple, than the agency house of a self-governed democracy. It is a very imposing object. Of the severest and most compact proportions, its form and material (the solid granite) comporting capitally with the surrounding scenery. About one hundred and fifty feet long, and some eighty or one hundred wide, we should judge, an oblong square, with a central projection in front, the roof of it supported on a magnificent row of granite pillars — the top a dome without spire. It looks as if it had been translated from old Thebes or Athens, and planted down among Ethan Allen's Green Mountains. It stands on a ledge of rock; close behind it a hill, somewhat rocky and rugged for Vermont; and before it, descends an exceedingly fine and extensive yard, fenced with granite and iron in good keeping with the building, the ground covered with the richest verdure, broken into wide walks, and planted with young trees. It is a very costly structure; but Vermont can afford it, though we hold to cheap and very plain State houses, inasmuch as the seat of government with us is, or should be, at the people's homes. We want to see the dwelling-houses of the “owners of the soil,” the palaces of the country. There the sovereignty of the country should hold its court, and there its wealth should be expended. Let despots and slaveholders build their pompous public piles and their pyramids of Egypt.

The apartments and furniture of the State House within are very rich, and, we should judge, highly commodious. The Representatives' Hall a semicircular, with cushioned seats, a luxury hardly suited to the humor of the stout old Aliens and Warners of early times, and comporting but slightly with the hardy habits of the Green Mountain boys, who now come there, and in brief session pass anti-slavery resolutions, to the dismay of the haughty South, and the shame of the neighboring dough-faced North.

Their legislature was about to sit — and an anti-slavery friend, one of their state officers, informed us that Alvan Stewart was expected there, to attend their anti-slavery anniversary. We should have rejoiced to stay and hear him handle southern slavery in that Vermont State House. — We trust yet to hear George Thompson there. It shall be our voice, when he comes again, that he go directly into Vermont; that he land there from Canada. Let him leave England in some man-of-war, that hoists the “meteor flag,” and mounts guns only in chase of the slave ship, and enter the continent by way of the gulf of St. Lawrence. Let him tarry some months among the farmers of Vermont, and tell them the whole mysteries of slavery, and infuse into their yeoman-hearts his own burning abhorrence of it, till they shall loathe slaveholding as they loathe the most dastardly thieving, and with one stern voice, from the Connecticut to Champlain, demand its annihilation. We would have him go into the upland farming towns — not to the shores of the lake, where the steamboat touches, to land the plague of pro-slavery — nor to the capital, where “property and standing” might turn up the nose at the negro's equal humanity, or the vassals of “the northern man with southern principles” veto the anti-slavery meeting with a drunken mob — but to Randolph Hill, to Danville Green, the swells of Peacham, and the plains of St. Johnsbury, to Strafford Hollow and the vales of Tunbridge and Sharon — William Slade's Middlebury, and up among James Bell's Caledonia hills. Let the South learn that George Thompson Was Stirring The Vermonters Up Among The Green Mountains. See if Alabama would send a requisition for him to Anti-slavery Governor Jennison, or Anti-slavery Lieut. Gov. Camp. And what response, think ye, she would get back? — a Gilchrist report — or the thundering judgment rather of stout old Justice Harrington to the shivering slave-chaser— “Show Me Your Bill Of Sale Of This Man From The Almighty!” [“]A decision,” said a judge of the present truly upright and learned bench of that state, “no less honorable to Judge Harrington's head than his heart, and Good Law.”

Let George Thompson land in Vermont, and stay there, till other states shall learn the courage to guaranty him his rights within their own borders, if they have not learned it already for shame. He can do anti-slavery's work, and all of it, in Vermont. He need go no farther south. They can hear him distinctly, every word he says, from Randolph Green clear down to Texas. John C. Calhoun would catch every blast of his bugle; and assassin Preston startle at its note, in the rotunda at Charleston. And by and by, when every Vermont farmer shall have heard his voice, and shaken his hand and welcomed him to his hearth-stone, let him come down into Montpelier and shake that granite State House; and mayhap to fair Burlington, to that University — where the colored student can now enjoy, unrestricted, all the equal privileges of “field recitation;” where he may come, under cloud of night, to gaze at the stars on the very same common with the young New-Yorker, and the son of the rich merchant of this fair city of the lake, or accompany them, in broad day, on an excursion of trigonometry, in the open fields. The doors of that college chapel would open wide to George Thompson, after the Green Mountain boys had once heard him speak.

But we are lingering too long for our readers or ourselves, m this noble state. We hasten back to our own native, sturdy quarry of rocks and party politics.

SOURCE: Collection from the Miscellaneous Writings of Nathaniel Peabody Rogers, Second Edition, p. 34-8 which states it was published in the Herald of Freedom of October 20, 1838.

Gerrit Smith to Elizabeth Cady Stanton, June 6, 1864

PETERBORO, June 6, 1864.

MRs. E. CADY STANTON, New-York:

MY DEAR Cousin: I have your letter. It would be too great labor to answer all, who seek to know my choice amongst the presidential candidates. But I must answer you.

I have no choice. The first of September will be time enough for me and for every other person to have one. Intermediate events and changes will be indispensable lessons in our learning who should be the preferred candidate. To commit ourselves in time of war to a candidate one month before it is necessary, is worse than would be a whole year of such prematureness in time of peace. Then there is the absorbing, not to say frenzying, interest, which attends our important elections. That it is frenzying is manifest from the scornful reproach and wild invective, which the press is already heaping up on Lincoln and Fremont — both of them honest and able men, and both of them intent on saving the country. How unwise, nay how insane, to let this absorbing and frenzying interest come needlessly early into rivalry with our interest in the one great work of crushing the rebellion! For more than half a year have I frequently and faithfully, both with lips and pen, deprecated the premature agitation of the question who should be the chosen candidate. If, therefore, the Cleveland and Baltimore Conventions shall have the effect to divide the loyal voters so far as to let a pro-slavery and sham Democrat slip into the Presidency through their divisions, I, at least, shall not be responsible for the ruin that may come of it.

My concern whether it shall be Lincoln or Fremont or Chase or Butler or Grant who shall reach the presidential chair is comparatively very slight. But my concern to keep out of it a man, who would make any other terms with the rebels than their absolute submission is overwhelming. For any other terms would not only destroy our nation, but lessen the sacredness of nationality everywhere, and sadly damage the most precious interests of all mankind.

Since the Rebellion broke out, I have been nothing but an anti-rebellion man. So unconditionally have I gone for putting it down unconditionally, as to make no stipulations in behalf of m most cherished objects and dearest interests. And so shall I continue to go. I love the anti-slavery cause. Nevertheless, I would have the rebellion put down at whatever necessary expense to that cause. I love the Constitution; and deprecate the making of any even the slightest change in it. Nevertheless, I make infinitely less account of saving it than of destroying the rebellion. I love my country. But sooner than see her compromise with the rebels, I would see her exhaust herself and perish in her endeavors to defeat their crime — that greatest crime of all the ages and all the world. I do not forget that many of my old fellow abolitionists accuse me of having been unfaithful to the anti-slavery cause during the rebellion. My first answer to them is — that to help suppress the rebellion is the duty which stands nearest to me: and my second answer — that in no way so well as in suppressing it can the anti-slavery cause or any other good cause be promoted. There is not a good cause on the earth that has not an enemy in the unmixed and mighty wickedness of this rebellion.

You will rightly infer from what I have said, that my vote will be cast just where I shall judge it will be like to go farthest in keeping a disloyal man out of the Presidency. My definition of a disloyal man includes every one who would consent to obtain peace by concessions to the rebels – concessions however slight. Should the rebellion be disposed of before the election, I might possibly refuse to vote for any of the present candidates. When voting in time of war, and especially such a fearful war as the present, for a Governor or President, I vote for a leader in the war rather than for a civil ruler. Where circumstances leave me free to vote for a man with reference mainly to his qualifications as a civil ruler, I am, as my voting for thirty years proves, very particular how I vote. In 1856, Fremont was in nomination for the Chief Magistracy. I honored him — but I did not vote for him. In 1860, Lincoln was nominated for it. I had read his Debate with Senator Douglas, and I thought well of him. But neither for him did I vote. To-day, however, I could cheerfully vote for either to be the constitutional head of the army and navy. I go further, and say, that to save the Presidential office from going into the hands of one who would compromise with the rebels I, would vote for a candidate far more unsound on slavery than the severest abolition critic might judge either Lincoln or Fremont to be. But were there no such danger, I would sternly refuse to vote for any man who recognizes, either in or out of the Constitution, a law for slavery, or who would graduate any human rights, natural or political, by the color of the skin.

This disposition to meddle with things before their time is one that has manifested itself, and worked badly, all the way through the war. The wretched attempts at “Reconstruction” are an instance of it. “Reconstruction” should not so much as have been spoken of before the rebellion was subdued. I hope that by that time all loyal men, the various doctrines and crotchets to the contrary notwithstanding, will be able to see that the seceded States did, practically as well as theoretically, get themselves out of the Union and Nation — as effectually out as if they had never been in. Our war with Mexico ended in a treaty of peace with her. Doubtless our war with the South will end in like manner. If we are the conqueror, the treaty will, I assume, be based on the unconditional surrender of the South. And then the South, having again become a portion of our nation, Congress will be left as free to ordain the political divisions of her territory, as it was to ordain those of the territory we conquered from Mexico. Next in order, Congress will very soon, as I have little doubt, see it to be safe and wise to revive our old State lines. Nevertheless, I trust, that such revival would never be allowed until Congress should see it to be clearly safe and wise. We hear much of the remaining constitutional rights of the loyal men in the seceded States. But they, no more than their rebellious neighbors, have such rights. It is true that the rebellion is their misfortune instead of their crime. Nevertheless, it severed every political cord as well between the nation and themselves as between the nation and those rebellious neighbors. The seceded States embarked in a revolution, which swept away all the political relations of all their people, loyal as well as disloyal. Such is the hazard, which no man, however good, can escape from. If the major part or supreme power of his State carries it to destruction, he is carried along with it. A vigilant, informed, active, influential member of his body politic does it therefore behoove every good man to be. In his haste for “Reconstruction,” the President went forward in it — whereas he is entitled to not the least part in it, until Congress has first acted in it. In the setting up of military or provisional governments, as we proceed in our conquests, his is the controlling voice — for he is the military head of the nation. But in regard to the setting up of civil governments in the wake of those conquests, he is entitled to no voice at all until after Congress has spoken. Another instance of meddling with things before their time is this slapping of the face of France with the “Monroe Doctrine.” I was about to say that doing so serves but to provoke the enmity of France. There is, however, one thing more which it provokes and that is the ridicule of the world. For us, whilst the rebels are still at the throat of our nation, and may even be at her funeral, to be resolving that we will protect the whole Western Continent from the designs of the whole Eastern Continent, is as ludicrous a piece of impotent bravado as ever the world laughed at. And still another instance of our foolish prematureness is the big words in which we threaten to punish the leaders of the rebellion. It would be time enough for these big words when we had subdued the rebellion and captured the leaders. In the mean time there should be only big blows. Moreover, if we shall succeed in getting these leaders into our hands, it will be a question for the gravest consideration whether we should not beg their pardon instead of punishing them. What was it that stirred up the rebellion? The spirit of slavery. That alone is the spirit by means of which Southern treason can build up a fire in the Southern heart whose flames shall burst out in rebellion. Slavery gone from the South, and there will never more be rebellions there to disturb the peace and prosperity in which North and South will ever after dwell together. Who was the guiltier party in feeding and inflaming that spirit? The pro-slavery and preponderant North. The guiltier North it was, that had the more responsible part in moulding the leaders of the rebellion. Does it then become this guiltier North to be vengeful toward these her own creations—her own children ?—and, what is more, vengeful toward them for the bad spirit which she herself had so large a share in breathing into them? — for the Satanic character which she herself did so much to produce in them? But I shall be told that the North has repented of her in upholding slavery, and thereby furnishing the cause of the rebellion; and that the South should have followed her example. But if her repentance did not come until after the rebellion broke out, then surely it came too late to save her from responsibility for the rebellion. Has it, however, come even yet? I see no proof of it. I can see none so long as the American people continue to trample upon the black man. God can see none. Nor will he stay his desolating judgments so long as the American Congress, instead of wiping out penitently and indignantly all fugitive slave statutes, is infatuated enough to be still talking of “the rights of slaveholders,” and of this being “a nation for white men.” Assured let us be, that God will never cease from his controversy with this guilty nation until it shall have ceased from its base and blasphemous policy of proscribing, degrading, and outraging portions of his one family. The insult to him in the persons of his red and black children, of which Congress was guilty in its ordinance for the Territory of Montana, will yet be punished in blood, if it be not previously washed out in the tears of penitence. And this insult, too, whilst the nation is under God’s blows for like insults! What a silly as well as wicked Congress! And then that such a Congress should continue the policy of providing chaplains for the army! Perhaps, however, it might be regarded as particularly fit for such a Congress to do this. Chaplains to pray for our country's success whilst our country continues to perpetrate the most flagrant and diabolical forms of injustice! As if the doing of justice were not the indispensable way of praying to the God of justice! It is idle to imagine that God is on the side of this nation. He can not be with us. For whilst he is everywhere with justice, he is nowhere with injustice. I admit that he is not on the side of the rebellion. From nothing in all his universe can his soul be further removed than from this most abominable of all abominations. If we succeed in putting it down, our success, so far as God is concerned, will be only because he hates the rebellion even more than he hates our wickedness. To expect help from him in any other point of view than this, is absurd. Aside from this, our sole reliance must be, as was the elder Napoleon's, on having “the strongest battalions.” I believe we shall succeed — but that it will be only for the reasons I have mentioned — only because we are the stronger party and that God is even more against the rebels than he is against us. How needful, however, that we guard ourselves from confounding success against the rebellion with the salvation of the nation! Whether the nation shall be saved is another question than whether the rebellion shall be suppressed. In the providence of God, even a very wicked nation may be allowed to become a conqueror — may be used to punish another wicked nation before the coming of its own turn to be conquered and punished. But a nation, like an individual, can be saved only by penitence and justice.

SOURCES: Gerrit Smith, Speeches and Letters of Gerrit Smith (from January 1863, to January 1864), on the Rebellion, Volume 2, p. 14-8

Nathaniel Peabody Rogers: George Thompson, September 29, 1838

Our readers may remember that his excellency Governor Hill, the Reverend Wilbur Fisk, D. D., President of Wesleyan University, the Honorable Charles G. Atherton, one of our free and enlightened delegation in Congress, and sundry other dignitaries in church and state, as well as the Honorable their Graces the Concord mob — while Mr. Thompson was in this country, and soon after our brutality drove him from these guilty shores, — took great liberties with his name, and attempted liberties with his person. We call the attention of these distinguished functionaries to some of their sayings and doings, and will then subjoin some few of the testimonials recently come to us from England, or which will be new to them, we presume, as they would not be likely to encounter them in the course of their more lofty readings.

“This fugitive from justice,” said his excellency Isaac Hill — this “bankrupt in character and in purse,” said his highness the Reverend Doctor Fisk, a gratuitous vindicator of slavery — “a miscreant who had fled from the indignation of an outraged people,” declaimed the pert Mister Atherton — amen to the whole of it, repeated their Graces the mob.

Hear Thomas Fowell Buxton, the Wilberforce of the British parliament — one of the ornaments of philanthropy for all christendom. It was at a great anti-slavery meeting in the city of Norwich, in the neighborhood of where this fugitive from justice had been brought up. He had just spoken on the platform where Buxton and other great men of England sat. “I come here,” says Thomas Fowell Buxton, “to declare my assent to the great doctrine of immediate abolition of the apprenticeship, as well as to hear a speech from George Thompson, with whose sentiments I fully concur, and with whom I hope to labor through years to come, shoulder to shoulder, for the abolition of slavery and the slave trade throughout the world.” “Fugitive from justice” indeed — “bankrupt in character,” with a witness!

Hear Ralph Wardlaw, of Glasgow, one of the ablest, profoundest divines and writers in Europe. After Mr. Thompson's victory in Scotland over Rev. Robert J. Breckenridge of Baltimore, who honored the challenge of this “fugitive from justice” in the very land from which he fled, — fought with him in presence of 1200 of the very flower of the city of Glasgow, and fell before him there — at a public meeting held in Dr. Heugh's chapel in commemoration of this victory, Dr. Wardlaw said of Mr. Thompson, “With the ability, the zeal, the eloquence, the energy, the steadfastness of principle, the exhaustless and indefatigable perseverance of Our Champion, we were more than satisfied.” — “We sent him to America,” said Dr. Wardlaw. “He went with the best wishes of the benevolent, and the fervent prayers of the pious. He remained in the faithful, laborious and perilous execution of the commission entrusted to him, as long as it could be done without the actual sacrifice of life. He returned. We hailed his arrival,” &c. “Fugitive from justice,” says the New Hampshire governor. “We sent him,” says Dr. Wardlaw. “Bankrupt in character,” says the Rev. Dr. Fisk. “He returned,” says Dr. Wardlaw, “and we hailed his arrival.”

And now hear Henry Brougham, in the House of Lords. We put him against the American Brougham, who called George Thompson “miscreant!” against the Honorable Charles G. Atherton, of America. In the House of Lords, July 16th ultimo, in reply to Lord Glenelg, who claimed for the British government the credit of abolishing slavery in the West India islands — Lord Brougham said that “he maintained that, but for the interference of this country by the friends of emancipation and of liberty, there would not to-day have been received such a despatch as had arrived from the governor of Jamaica.” “He would say, ‘Honor to those to whom honor was due.’ He would name such men as Joseph Sturge, John Scoble, William Allen, and other noble-minded and devoted philanthropists — and above all he would name one — one of the most eloquent men he had ever heard either in or out of parliament — he meant the gallant and highly-gifted George Thompson, who had not alone exerted himself in the cause of humanity in this country, but had risked his life in America, in the promulgation of those doctrines, which he knew to be founded in truth.”

Has our dainty-fingered little statesman ever heard of Henry Brougham, of England — that intellectual Titan — that combination of all that is glorious in the history of British genius and learning and eloquence and patriotism; the pride of Westminster hall, the peerless among her peerage, the very star of England, the man whose impress, of all others, this age and coming ages will bear wherever the English language shall be spoken, the man whose mental influence is felt from the palace to the hovel, from the queen to the chimney-sweeper — has the Honorable Mr. Atherton heard of him, and does he call “misereant” the man who receives such eulogium from his lips, in the face of Europe? Fugitive from justice! Is the companion of Brougham and O'Connell and Buxton and Sturge and Scoble and Allen and Wardlaw, a “felon” and a “bankrupt in reputation” in England — a miscreant? What say you, Messrs. Hill, Fisk, Atherton, and mob, will you repeat your words in face of such testimonials as these?

SOURCE: Collection from the Miscellaneous Writings of Nathaniel Peabody Rogers, Second Edition, p. 29-31 which states it was published in the Herald of Freedom of September 29, 1838.

Samuel Gridley Howe to Senator Charles Sumner, July 2, 1852

Boston, July 2d, 1852.

My Dear Sumner: — There is a scattering of our forces here, or there has been, but I think now we begin to settle down to this conclusion — that we cannot vote for Scott,¹ and that we have only to prevent as many Democrats from voting for Pierce as possible. What do you say? Shall you not write to the Worcester Convention, or a letter to a friend that may be used there? Speaking for myself alone, I must say the course seems clear; to go for the abstract right and disregard the consequences. We must teach all parties that there are some men (and they are becoming more numerous) who will not be bought and sold and handed over by any conventions.

I have always had an instinct in me which I have never been able to body forth clearly — which tells me that all this manoeuvering and political expediency is all wrong, and that each one should go for the right regardless of others. If every man, or every third man, would do so, an unworthy candidate, or an unworthy platform, would never be put up; and is it less one's duty to do so because only every three-thousandth man will follow his example? Why is it deemed necessary to go on with great parties, and to twist principles until they all but break — why but because there are so few men who will be inflexible? Let us make those few more, and all will be right.

Can you not foretell about when you shall speak? If you can, with any degree of certainty, I shall be strongly tempted to go on there to hear. Great things are expected of you.

I was in at Mills's to-day; one or two desperate Hunkers were there: they caught eagerly at my expression of a firm belief in Scott's anti-slavery tendency, and Mills swore he would publish what I said. I believe they still cling to the hope of bringing the old man, their man, [Webster] upon the ring yet. They do not know how, or when, but hope for a contingency.

Do write me; and believe me ever faithfully,

S. G. Howe.

_______________

¹ Winfield Scott.

SOURCE: Laura E. Richards, Editor, Letters and Journals of Samuel Gridley Howe, Volume 2, p. 380-1

Samuel Gridley Howe to Senator Charles Sumner, May 30, 1852

Boston, May 30th, 1852.

Dear Sumner: — I have been remiss of late about writing to you, but have been hardly in a state to do more than make the movements which the treadmill of necessity enforces.

I note what you say about Felton, and your wish that I should not, in defending you, lose his friendship. I did indeed delay to the last moment answering his letter; not through fear of losing his friendship, but from a reluctance to undertake a disagreeable and vain task. On Thursday evening I wrote to him my reply; the ground I took was, that it would be utterly useless to try the case between you in the court of the reason; it must be removed to that of the affections. I then put it to him to say whether, if he should receive news of your death, he would not then begin to think that he should have made more allowance for your peculiarities of manner; and even if what he charged were true, whether he should not rather have kept in mind the many noble and endearing traits of character, and the devotion to principle which he admitted you to possess. I gave him credit for honesty of purpose, but told him that in my humble opinion his public course, or acts, had been hostile to the sacred cause of humanity. I wrote a long letter of which the above is the substance. The next evening he appeared at our children's fete, and said to me briefly but feelingly, “It is all right! all right!” and that was all.

We had a party got up on my plan. We had about fifty children, who came early in the afternoon and frolicked to their hearts' content. Afterward came their parents to tea, and on the whole we had about eighty persons, whose pleasure and enjoyment it was pleasant to behold. We had swinging and dancing, and running and tumbling; we had also music, and a theatrical representation for the big folks. Altogether it was a good affair, a religious affair. I say religious, for there is nothing which so calls forth my love and gratitude to God, as the sight of the happiness for which He has given the capacity and furnished the means; and this happiness is nowhere more striking than in the frolics of the young. It is true that the sight of any true happiness should call forth the same feeling; and if we only cultivated it, we should have a religion that all could enjoy, instead of one that is sad and repellent to all but a few minds of peculiar stamp.

My vacation is over, and my hopes of seeing you in Washington are over for the time. I was glad, as were all your friends here, to hear of your so courteously throwing down the gauntlet, and announcing by a sort of herald that you would soon appear in the arena. It is well-timed; for it gives you the advantage of satisfying the anti-slavery people, and does not give to Webster and others the advantage they might derive from your speaking before the nominations. What I said about a person to furnish information from Washington I supposed you would understand. It was for Kossuth, who wished especially not to have anyone recommended by Senator Cass, but one who would not be likely to be in the interests of either party. He has agents and informants in all the courts of Europe; he needs one in Washington; he is willing to pay a correspondent. It is not a spy, in the obnoxious sense of the word, but a man who, acting in the interests of humanity, will furnish information honourably obtained, to be honourably used. Do you know any such?

s. G. H.

SOURCE: Laura E. Richards, Editor, Letters and Journals of Samuel Gridley Howe, Volume 2, p. 376-8

George Thompson, February 10, 1835

PORTLAND, Maine, Tuesday evening,}

February 10th, 1835.}

My dear Brother — The following hasty and brief account of my labors since I parted with you on Wednesday evening, will, I believe, be interesting to you, and the result proves that the God of our cause does not permit us to labor in vain, nor spend our strength for nought.

Thursday, Feb. 5th. Left Boston for Dover, N. H. at eight in the morning, accompanied by Rev. Amos A. Phelps. Arrived at half past five, and were most kindly received and entertained by the Rev. D. Root, the Congregational Minister, “an Israelite indeed, in whom there is no guile. At eight o'clock, delivered a preliminary lecture in Mr. Root's Church, to a very respectable congregation.

Friday, 6th. Occupied the day in conference with the excellent ministers of the Baptist and Methodist Episcopal Churches, the Rev. Messrs. Williams and Perkins, and found them devoted in heart and understanding to our holy enterprise. In the evening, delivered a second Lecture in the M. E. meeting-house. Although the weather was rendered inclement by a snow storm, the audience was numerous.

Saturday, 7th. In the afternoon, drove to Great Falls, accompanied by Mr. Phelps. Received a hearty welcome from Rev. Mr. Smith, of the Congregational Church. In the evening, at half past six, gave a lecture in the Baptist meeting-house, and obtained twenty-two subscribers at 12½ cents per month to the American Society. Found the worthy pastor of the church in which I lectured, the Rev. Abner Goodell, a warm friend.

Sunday, 8th. In the morning, delivered an Anti-Slavery discourse in the pulpit of the Rev. Mr. Williams, Dover. Sunday afternoon, delivered a second Anti-Slavery discourse in the pulpit of the Rev. David Root. Audience very large and highly respectable. Sunday evening, delivered a third Anti-Slavery discourse in Mr. Root's Church, which was crowded. The audience composed of persons from all the churches in the town. O, it was indeed refreshing to witness harmony, good will, fellowship, and co-operation in our cause, existing and prevailing amongst ministers and churches throughout a neighborhood At the close of my discourse, a collection was taken up, and $44 62½ was obtained.

Monday, 9th. In the afternoon, at half past two, held a public meeting in Mr. Root's Church, and formed male and female Anti-Slavery Associations for Dover. One hundred and twelve names were subscribed to the Constitution, and about fifty-six monthly subscribers of 12½ cents, each subscriber receiving a copy of the Anti-Slavery Record.

Monday Evening, 8 o'clock. Held a second public meeting in Mr. William's Church, and obtained nearly three hundred additional names, to the Constitution, and fifty additional monthly subscribers, making a total of four hundred members of the Society, and one hundred subscribers for the Record. Thus, about two hundred dollars have been raised in Dover for the cause of Abolition.

To what is this success to be attributed? 1st, To the essential goodness of our cause, and the blessing of God upon our labors; and 2ndly, Instrumentally, principally to the co-operation of the Ministers of Religion. Our experience at Dover has afforded another demonstration to the truth of what I have so often assumed, that the fate of Slavery in this country depends upon the will and conduct of the ministers of the Gospel. Why did the people in Dover assemble in such numbers? Why did they join so heartily in the cause? Why did they so liberally subscribe? Because they saw their beloved pastors going forward in the work, and felt, therefore, confidence and courage.

Brother Phelps, myself, and Mr. Benson, reached this place about four, to-day. The Cumberland County Convention meets to-morrow, at 10 o'clock. You shall learn the result on Saturday.

We are all under the roof of the Winslows, who are as kind and generous as ever.

Yours most affectionately,

GEO, THOMPSON.

SOURCE: Isaac Knapp, Publisher, Letters and Addresses by G. Thompson [on American Negro Slavery] During His Mission in the United States, From Oct. 1st, 1834, to Nov. 27, 1835, p. 38-40

Morbid Sensibilities.

We admit the truth of your first remark, that “the subject involved is delicate, and daily becomes more so from the morbid sensibilities which are excited, pro and con.” By morbid sensibilities, in both the friends and the opposers of slavery, we suppose you mean a diseased state of those qualities which render them quick of perception and sensation; or at least, an unhappy constitutional bias to such irriration and excitement as one in a sane state of mind would not in the same circumstances, either exhibit or feel. The high excitement of this morbid sensitiveness which has within a few years so extensively existed, we, no less than you, sincerely deplore. Nor can we object to the opinion you have expressed, that it has not made better men, citizens, or christians; that it has done no good in any quarter of the country, but much hurt. It has probably in some instances been overruled for good, but its own natural tendency is to discord, confusion, and every evil work. Some of its effects we have seen, and of far more we have heard. It has induced some of our countrymen to load, not only slaveholders, but all who did not come out in organized opposition to them, with harsh and opprobious epithets; to publish inflammatory articles, to the prejudice of others, without any sufficient evidence of their truth, and which in some instances have turned out to be false; to defend themselves by deadly weapons, sometimes at the expense of the assailant’s life; and to resort in various ways to the use of rash and unwise measures for the abolition of slavery; it has moved others to break up seminaries of learning, because young persons of color were allowed to be benefited by them, to disperse, with savage brutality, assemblies of respectable people consisting of ladies as well as gentlemen, who had peaceably assembled to hear the subject of slavery candidly discussed; to mar, pollute, and destroy public edifices, because they had been, or were likely to be, used for this purpose; to ransack violently the mails in quest of anti-slavery publications; to demolish printing presses, and cruelly persecute their conductors; to shoot down, in one instance, an editor of a paper, who went forth from among ourselves; to offer large rewards, and that publicly, for the murder of distinguished abolitionists; and to bring not a few of our leading men in Congress into collision with each other, so violent and reckless, that some of them have not only treated abusively, but have trodden down the constitutional rights of the people, and threatened a dissolution of the Union.

This morbid sensibility is truly a fearful element in any individual or community. It has already caused a vast amount of evil, and threatens destruction to all our most valuable institutions. The unholy and desolating fires which it has so widely enkindled “ought,” as you remark “to have been long since extinguished by the waters of patriotism and christian affection.” But the extinguishing element seems to be scarce, and the engines for throwing it are out of order; and the fire-men few, badly organized, and too jealous of each other to act in concert; and thus the devouring element is left, fearfully sweeping along. All this we deeply deplore.

But from the excitement of sensibilities, not morbid, of enlightened conscience, and generous sympathy, a christian benevolence, leading men to consider the woes and wants of their fellow creatures, of whatever complexion or condition they may be, we have seen no such evils arising. Of this kind of excitement there has been and still is altogether too little; and powerful stimulants are urgently demanded to rouse public feeling, in regard to this subject to any thing like healthy action. The dormant energies of mental soundness, must be called into exercise, or a cure of morbid sensibilities will never be effected.

_______________

Continued from: Reverend Silas McKeen to Thomas C. Stuart, August 20, 1839

SOURCE: Cyrus P. Grosvenor, Slavery vs. The Bible: A Correspondence Between the General Conference of Maine, and the Presbytery of Tombecbee, Mississippi, p. 25-9

An Abolitionist to William Lloyd Garrison, December 6, 1834

South READING, Dec. 6, 1834.

MR. GARRIsoN — The numerous panegyrical notices of Mr. THoMPsoN, which had for the last two months appeared in the columns of the Liberator, had put curiosity upon tiptoe in our little village to hear this disinterested, generous and eloquent MAN of TRUTH, and ADvoCATE of LIBERTY. He favored us with his presence yesterday, and last evening lectured for the space of two hours in the Baptist meeting-house, with zealous fluency and triumphant argumentation. The audience was a large one, and highly respectable, notwithstanding the purposely slight and obscure notice of the meeting which was given by our congregational minister, who is still on the side of gradualism and expatriation. A considerable number of individuals, animated by various motives, came from the surrounding towns,—even as far as Salem,—among whom were the Rev. Mr. Grosvernor and Richard P. Waters, Esq. . The meeting was opened with singing by the choir, and prayer by the Rev. Mr. Pickett of Reading; after which, Rev. Mr. Grosvenor made a few pertinent remarks, introducing Mr. Thompson to us, in which he reminded us that American liberty was won and established partly by the valor of a foreigner – Lafayette; and that the spiritual redemption of the world was effected through the instrumentality of another foreigner — the Lord Jesus Christ.

Of Mr. Thompson's lecture I shall not attempt to give you even the outlines. The topics were so various, the arguments so profound, the illustrations so rich and appropriate, the transitions from the pathetic to the severe, and from the beautiful to the sublime, were so incessant yet natural, that my pen might as well attempt to give the sound of the mountain torrent, or mark the course of the lightning, as to state them in their order, with justice either to the subject or the orator.

Mr. Thompson in his exordium, at once secured the earnest attention of his hearers by remarking, with measured and solemn enunciation, that the question which he was about to discuss was one of immense magnitude and transcendant importance, in comparison with which, all others that are now agitating the minds of the American people, appertaining to the politics or the prosperity of the nation, dwindled into insignificance; and he trusted that he might be able to go into its discussion with that candor and faithfulness which it merited, and that his auditors would listen with unbiassed, unprejudiced, and christian minds. If he should misapprehend, or misinterpret, or misstate, in any particular whatever; if he should swerve but a hair's breadth from the line of eternal rectitude, or fail in sustaining every assertion and every proposition that he might make; he called upon every one present, who should detect him in error, to rise and expose his sophistry or his ignorance. But if he should speak understandingly — truly — with a zeal according to knowledge; if he should show that slavery in the abstract and in the concrete was wrong, and that it was emphatically a national transgression—then it became each of those before him to say with repenting Saul — “Lord, what wilt thou have me to do?”

With regard to this finding something to do, which many think is so difficult a matter, Mr. Thompson asked — Do you know of any abolitionists, who are at a loss what to do for the emancipation of the slaves? Do they not say, that there are so many appropriate and important modes of action, that they are often puzzled which of them to select? Do they not exclaim — O, that our zeal, our talents, our means, our influence, were increased a hundred fold! O, that we could be here — there — every where, rebuking, encouraging, convincing and reforming a perverse and cruel people!

But, — but, — “We are as much opposed to slavery as we can be.” This hypocritical and impudent profession was most severely dealt with by Mr. Thompson, in a strain of burning satire. He interrogated those who made it, whether they remembered the slave in their prayers — in their intercourse with relations and friends? whether they contributed aught of their substance to the furtherance of the anti-slavery cause, or circulated any petitions for the abolition of slavery in those portions of territory which are under the jurisdiction of the national legislature? To which interrogation the reply uniformly was — “O, no! we have done none of these ; but then-we are as much opposed to slavery as we can be.”

The speaker then made a death grapple with those who run to the Bible to find a precedent and a plea for southern slavery, and tore them limb from limb. He nobly vindicated that precious volume, and its great Author, from the impious aspersions which had been cast upon them by the apologists of slavery, who contended that they gave full warrant for the murderous system. All those of his audience who were jealous for the honor and glory of God, and the holy repute of the scriptures, must have rejoiced in the masterly exhibition of truth which was made on this interesting occasion.

We were gratified to see you in the assembly, Mr. Garrison: and we could not but rejoice anew at the glorious fruits of your mission to England, as seen in the speedy and utter overthrow of the agent of the American Colonization Society in that country — in the increasing sympathy of British christians for the slaves in our land — in the efficient aid which they are giving to us in various channels — and particularly, and above all, in securing to us, even “without money and without price, the invaluable services of GEORGE THOMPSON and CHARLES STUART — philanthropists whose hearts burn with patriotic as well as christian love for our great but guilty republic — whose only desire is, to make us “that happy people whose God is the Lord” — and who duly appreciate and admire all that is truly excellent in our character as a people.

At the close of the lecture, Mr. Thompson again requested persons present, if there were any such, who had any difficulties yet remaining on their minds, or who were not entirely satisfied with his arguments, or who thought he had erred either as to matter of fact or of inference, to express their views or propound any questions without reserve. After a short pause, Rev. Mr. Grosvenor rose and said, that, as for himself, he had no objections to make to any thing that had been advanced by the speaker. He then alluded to the fact that, for his advocacy of the cause of the oppressed, he (Mr. Grosvenor) had lost his church and congregation in Salem; but expressed a holy resolve that come what might, he would at all times and in all places be a mouth-piece for the suffering and the dumb. His remarks, though few, were made with much feeling and firmness; after which, he pronounced a benediction upon the assembly.

As yet, I have heard but a single individual who was not pleased with Mr. Thompson's lecture, although there may be others — for

“Men convinced against their will,

Are of the same opinion still.”

He is a gradualist — a colonizationist — and, I believe, a member of an orthodox church; and he says that Mr. T. ought to have had another brickbat thrown at his head alluding to the affair at Lowell. What an amiable temper what a benevolently disposed man! what a meek and forgiving Christian!

We hope Mr. T. will visit us again shortly — but our brethren in Reading think it is their turn next.

Yours truly,

AN ABOLITIONIST.

SOURCE: Isaac Knapp, Publisher, Letters and Addresses by G. Thompson [on American Negro Slavery] During His Mission in the United States, From Oct. 1st, 1834, to Nov. 27, 1835, p. 34-7

Nathaniel Peabody Rogers: The Convention, August 18, 1838

Thanks to our young brethren for their hearty — noble-souled committee's call. Now for obeying it. Now see if our abolitionists, who “remember those in bonds,” &c. will spend a day or two to make it manifest. We would spend time chiefly, brethren, so far as traveling expenses go. Our brethren, fortunately for the cause, have not much “property or standing.” They should not lay out much of either on the road. The grog-selling inns should receive little of anti-slavery patronage. The money is too sacred for their foul coffers. The “cold chunk,” or the johnny cake, or the saw-dust pudding, (Franklin's editorial dinner,) any thing on the road, and all the mites for the Society treasury. We have got to cure this glorious slaveholding republic of its character, and to pay all the doctors' bills, and we must spend little, very little, for confectionaries.

We echo the summons of the committee of arrangements. From our Moosehillock position we send it on, and back, to every point of compass. To none but the whole-hearted, fully-committed, cross-the-Rubicon spirits—men of more heart than “But” — who can leave home for the sake of their principles — who can deny themselves, and “lap the water, as the dog lappeth,” for their thirst. From the sea coast, the Green Mountain west, the sky-seeking north, and the New Hampshire south — old, young and mid-aged — gray bearded and beardless — the sturdy and the infirm — from all streams and all valleys, and along all hill-sides — from rich “old Cheshire,” — from Rockingham, with her horizon setting down away to the salt sea. — Strafford, from the “slide”-scarred mountains of Sandwich to the rainbow mists of the Cocheco — from Pigwacket to Winnipisseogee — Strafford of the lakes — up from old Hillsborough, where the staunch yeoman drives his team from the mouths of Piscataquog and Souhegan, up to the very springs of the Contoocook, — young Sullivan, where she stretches from Sunapee to the valley of the Connecticut, and from the falls of Walpole to the cedars of Lebanon, —  Merrimack — key-stone of the Granite State — abolitionists “of our county of Merrimack,” start at day-break for the Convention, — from where the sun sets behind Kearsarge, even to where he rises gloriously over Moses Norris’ own town of Pittsfield; and from Amoskeag to Ragged Mountains, — Coos — Upper Coos, home of the everlasting hills, send out your bold advocates of human rights — wherever they lay scattered by lonely lake or Indian stream — or “Grant,” or “Location” — from the trout-haunted brooks of the Amoriscoggin, and where the adventurous streamlet takes up its mountain march for the St. Lawrence. — Scattered and insulated men, wherever the light of philanthropy and liberty has beamed in upon your solitary spirits, come down to us like your streams and clouds: — and our own Grafton, all about among your dear hills and your mountain-flanked valleys — whether you home along the swift Ammonoosuck, the cold Pemigewasset or the ox-bowed Connecticut; from the “heights of Dorchester,” and the “vale of Hebron” — from Canaan, that land of promise to the negro student boy — and from anti-slavery Campton — come from the meadows of Alexandria — one and all abolitionists of Grafton — Lyme, the peerless town of Lyme, the native town of temperance.

Abolitionists of New Hampshire! your brethren in bondage call loudly upon you for help — they clank their chains — they rattle their fetters — they lift up the cry of despair — will you hear them? Remember what God is doing for your cause. Hark, that shout from the isles of the sea! It is the emancipation cry of the West Indies — God hath given them liberty. Their deliverance has come — He is drawing nigh to us. We shall hear Him, or perish. And if this nation is marked out for destruction, let abolitionists remember Rahab of Jericho. We are slow, brethren, dishonorably slow, in a cause like ours. Our feet should be “as hinds’ feet.” “Liberty lies bleeding.” The leaden-colored wing of slavery obscures the land with its baleful shadow. Let us come together, and inquire at the hand of the Lord what is to be done.

SOURCE: Collection from the Miscellaneous Writings of Nathaniel Peabody Rogers, Second Edition, p. 9-11 which states it was published in the Herald of Freedom of August 18, 1838.

Reverend Asa Rand to William Lloyd Garrison, Wednesday, December 3, 1834

WEDNESDAY Dec. 3, 1834.

MR. GARRIsoN — A brief and hasty sketch is all I can now send you of occurrences in our good little town of Lowell, during the visit of our invaluable friend Thompson, He came among us on invitation, to give lectures on Sabbath, Monday and Tuesday evenings of the present week. We had obtained permission of the Selectmen to occupy for the purpose the Town Hall, a room in which town meetings are held, and the use of which is usually granted, on any respectful application, for any object which is not unlawful or manifestly immoral.

On Sabbath evening, Mr. Thompson gave a splendid lecture, in which he entirely swept away the pretended support of slavery from the bible. The audience was large, and listened with delight till a late hour. They suffered no interruption, except the throwing of a large stone at a window, which was arrested by the sash and fell harmless on the outside.

Notice was given on Sabbath evening, that the lecture on Monday evening would commence at 8 o'clock; and that we would meet for discussion at half past six; Mr. Thompson extending a most respectful and friendly invitation to all who had objections to our principles or measures, to be present and state them, and to all who had inquiries, to propound them.

On Monday, the Board of Managers sent special messages, of the same purport, to gentlemen who had taken an active part in public against the formation of our Society last winter. They declined the invitation unanimously, and we had not a single objector or inquirer at the meeting, except abolitionists. This was much regretted; for anti-slavery men are anxious to have the whole subject thoroughly sifted, and every argument brought against them fairly examined, in the hearing of the people. However, we managed to have some of the most formidable objections stated, and our friend entertained the assembly by refuting them, one after another, in the most lively and entertaining manner.

Then followed a lecture of nearly two hours length, on the history of St. Domingo — that history which on so many minds is a spectre to warn them against the liberation of slaves; but which, when truly narrated, is so triumphant an example of the perfect safety of immediate emancipation even in circumstances as unpromising as can possibly be conceived. Very few left the hall till the lecture was ended, notwithstanding its length and some untoward events now to be mentioned.

In the early part of the lecture, a small company of low fellows disturbed the assembly just without the door, in the entry at the head of the stairs, by loud stamping, vociferation and hisses. This was continued at intervals for near half an hour, when peace-officers, who had been sent for, arrived, and immediately the disturbers were quiet as lambs, and continued so till the close. Some time after, three missiles were thrown at the building behind the speaker. The third or last, a large brickbat, came through the window, passed near the speaker's head and fell harmless before the audience in front of the rostrum. This missile must have been thrown with great force, to pass into the second story of a high-posted building, and fly so far from the wall. A slight change of its direction would have silenced the eloquence of our friend forever, except that the barbarity of the deed would have given, what he had already said in behalf of the oppressed, a more glorious immortality. Praised be the Arbiter of life, that he yet survives to plead for the outcasts. Nothing daunted, he spoke some time after this, and the meeting closed n peace.

But the elements of turbulence and confusion had but begun to move. Yesterday, we heard of little but ‘wars and rumors of wars;’ much that was rumor only; but too much that was real, for the honor of Lowell or of New England. The most sagacious never seriously apprehended greater disturbance on the ensuing evening. Our board of managers met early in the afternoon, who unanimously and calmly resolved to claim the protection of the Selectmen, and to proceed with the meeting. The Selectmen, like true guardians of the public welfare, had been on the alert during the day. They received our application in a very gentlemanly manner, and promised us protection to the extent of their authority. The time arrived. With Mr. Thompson, we met the Selectmen in their room adjacent to the Hall. The night was exceedingly dark; the building was approachable on all sides; and not a window had a blind or a shutter, except that behind the speaker, which had a temporary barrier on the inside which remains to-day a disgraceful monument of the infuriate temper of some men in Lowell. The Selectmen still pledged us all the aid they could render; but doubted whether it was practicable, with the preparations which time permitted, to save the assembly from violence through the windows from without. Under these circumstances, we felt it an act of discretion and humanity, without any sacrifice of principle to adjourn the meeting to 2 o'clock this afternoon at the same place. This was done, and no further violence occurred. Mr. Thompson is now giving his concluding lecture on the practical part of the subject, and I have stolen away to write lest I should be too late.

The mal-contents were not satisfied to retire home after our adjournment last evening. They re-opened the Hall, and held a sort of mobocratic caucus, though remarkably still and orderly for one of that kind. They passed, and have to-day published, resolutions, ‘deeply deploring the existence of slavery’ — most sincerely, no doubt — and saying that the agitation of the subject here is very bad — that the Town Hall ought not to be used for the purpose eand communicating this wise opinion to the Selectmen. Those officers, however, have stood firm to their duty to-day.

The meeting is closed, and my letter must go. I cannot, however, forbear to say, that the handbills and other menaces of yesterday did us much good. Many, who are not friendly to our principles, said, ‘This is no question of abolition—but whether law and order shall prevail in Lowell, or whether mobs shall rule.’ They besought us to proceed, and were ready to render us every assistance in their power. The occurrences of the week will do much for the cause of truth and liberty in our town, and you may tell the whole country that abolition in Lowell is neither dead nor wounded.

Yours truly,

A. RAND.

SOURCE: Isaac Knapp, Publisher, Letters and Addresses by G. Thompson [on American Negro Slavery] During His Mission in the United States, From Oct. 1st, 1834, to Nov. 27, 1835, p. 30-3