The Project Gutenberg eBook ofAmerican Scenes, and Christian SlaveryThis ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online atwww.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.Title: American Scenes, and Christian SlaveryAuthor: Ebenezer DaviesRelease date: February 1, 2004 [eBook #10898]Most recently updated: December 23, 2020Language: EnglishCredits: Produced by PG Distributed Proofreaders*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AMERICAN SCENES, AND CHRISTIAN SLAVERY ***
This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online atwww.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.
Title: American Scenes, and Christian SlaveryAuthor: Ebenezer DaviesRelease date: February 1, 2004 [eBook #10898]Most recently updated: December 23, 2020Language: EnglishCredits: Produced by PG Distributed Proofreaders
Title: American Scenes, and Christian Slavery
Author: Ebenezer Davies
Author: Ebenezer Davies
Release date: February 1, 2004 [eBook #10898]Most recently updated: December 23, 2020
Language: English
Credits: Produced by PG Distributed Proofreaders
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AMERICAN SCENES, AND CHRISTIAN SLAVERY ***
Produced by PG Distributed Proofreaders
During his recent sojourn in the United States, the Author did not conceive the intention of writing a book on the subject. All he contemplated was the publication of a few letters in a London Journal on which he had been accustomed to rely for intelligence from Europe when residing in Berbice. So much he was disposed to attempt for several reasons.
Having entered the States by their most Southern port—that of New Orleans, and finding himself at once in the midst of Slavery, he had opportunities of observing that system not often enjoyed by a British "Abolitionist." As the Pastor, also, of a large congregation, of whom a great number were but a few years ago held in cruel bondage, he would naturally look upon the treatment of the same race in America with keener eyes and feelings more acute than if he had not stood in that relation.
Identified, too, with those persons who represent the principles of the old Puritans and Nonconformists in England, he would survey the growth and spread of those principles in their new soil and climate with a more than common interest. New England, especially, on whose sods the foot-prints of the Pilgrims had been impressed, and on whose rocks their early altars had been reared, would be to him hallowed ground.
Travelling, leisurely, as he did, at his own expense, northward from New Orleans to Boston, and westward as far as Utica,—making a tour of more than four thousand miles, sometimes known and sometimes unknown, just as inclination prompted,—representing no public body, bound to no party, a "Deputation sent by himself,"—he was completely free and independent in thought and action, and enjoyed advantages for observation which do not often meet.
It was natural that he should wish to tell his friends in Great Britain, and in the West Indies, what he had seen and heard. To denounce what is evil and to commend what is good is at all times gratifying; in doing which, he sought to describe the men and the manners of America just as they appeared to him.
Several letters, containing the narrative of a few days spent in New Orleans, appeared in thePatriot. Their favourable reception by the readers of that journal led to the preparation of the present volume, in which the letters referred to, having undergone a careful revision, re-appear, followed by nearly thirty others descriptive of the Author's tour.
Our Transatlantic friends are morbidly sensitive as to the strictures of strangers. They hate the whole tribe of Travellers and Tourists, Roamers and Ramblers, Peepers and Proclaimers, and affect to ridicule the idea of men who merely pass through the country, presuming to give opinions on things which it is alleged so cursory a view cannot qualify them fully to understand. Our cousins have, doubtless, had occasional provocations from the detested race in question; but their feeling on this point amounts to a national weakness. It is always worth knowing how we appear to the eyes of others, and what impression the first sight of us is apt to produce; and this knowledge none can communicate but the stranger, the tourist, the passer-by. What faults and failings soever we may have in England, and their "name is legion," by all means let them be unsparingly exposed by every foreign tourist that treads upon our soil. Let us be satirized, ridiculed, laughed at, caricatured, anything, so that we may be shamed out of all that is absurd and vicious in our habits and customs. In the present instance our Western kinsmen are described by one, if they will believe his own testimony, of the most candid and truthful of travellers,—one who has viewed them and all their institutions, exceptone, with the most friendly eye, and who deeply regrets that so much of what is lovely and of good report should be marred and blotted by so much of what is disgraceful to a great and enlightened people.
As to the performance in a literary point of view, the Author will say nothing. The public will form their own judgment. If they like it, they will read; if not, the most seductive preface would not tempt them.
LONDON,January1, 1849.
Occasion of Visit to the United States—First Impressions of theMississippi—Magnitude of that River—Impediment at its Entrance—TheNew Harbour—The "Great" and "Fat" Valley—High Pressure Steam-TugFrolics—Slave-Auction Facetiae
American Oysters—Becalmed in the Mississippi—Anchor raised—Shipashore—Taken off by a Steam Tug—Slave-Sale Advertisements—RunawayNegroes—Return of Fever—Terrific Storm—Frightful Position—Ashore atNew Orleans—A Ship-Chandler's Store—American Wheels—AJoltification—The St. Charles's Hotel
New Orleans—The Story of Pauline—Adieu to the St Charles's—Description of that Establishment—First Sight of Slaves for Sale—Texts for Southern Divines—Perilous Picture
A Sabbath in New Orleans—The First Presbyterian Church—Expectoration—ANegro Pew—The Sermon
First Religious Service in America (continued)—A Collection "taken up"—Rush out—Evening Service—Sketch of the Sermon—Profanation of the Sabbath—The Monthly Concert for Prayer
"Jack Jones"—A Public Meeting for Ireland—Henry Clay—OtherSpeakers—American Feeling in reference to the Irish Famine—ASlave-Auction
The Slave-Auction (continued)—"A Fine Young Woman"—A Man and hisWife—Jim, the Blacksmith—A Family—A Ploughboy—Cornelia—AnotherJim—Tom, the House Boy—Edmund—Tom, and "his reserved rights"—ACarriage Driver—Margaret and her Child
St. Louis Exchange—Inspection of Human Chattels—ArtizanSlaves—Scenes and Proceedings of the Auction—Sale of the Men
Sale of Women—Second Sabbath in New Orleans—Cricket in front of thePresbyterian "Church"—The Baptist "Church"—A Peep at an AmericanSabbath School—Proceedings in "Church"—A Sermon on "The NewBirth"—Nut-cracking during Sermon—"Close Communion"
Interview with a Baptist Minister—Conversation with a Young Man in the Baptist Church—The Presbyterian Church, and Dr. Scott again—A Peep at the House of Representatives of Louisiana—Contrast between the French and the Americans in the Treatment of their Slaves—Dinner Table in New Orleans—American Manners
Farewell to New Orleans—Revolting Bargain—"The Anglo Saxon"Steam-boat—Moderate Fare—Steam Navigation of the Mississippi—Steam-boat and Railway Literature—Parting View of the"Crescent City"—Slave Advertisements—Baton Rouge—A SugarEstate—Fellow-Passengers—The Ladies' Cabin—A Baptist Minister—AReverend Slave-holder
Voyage up the Mississippi (continued)—"Patriarchal" Establishments—TheRed River—Elder Wright—Lynch Law administered by a Preacher—Natchez—Story of Mary Brown—The Flat Boats of the Mississippi
Voyage up the Mississippi (continued)—Grand Gulph and Big BlackRiver—Snags—"I belong to myself, Sir"—Vicksburg and Lynch Law—A ManOverboard—"Drove of Horses, Mules, and Niggers"—Character ofFellow-Passengers—The Sabbath—Disobedience to Conscience
Voyage up the Mississippi (continued)—The Arkansas—Treatment of theIndians—M de Tocqueville—"Napoleon" and Lynch Law—Memphis, and itsAdvertisements—A Scene witnessed there—The Ohio—Nashville, and AmosDresser
Voyage up the Ohio (continued)—Illinois—Evansville—Owensborough—Indiana—New Albany—Louisville, and its Cruel Histories—The Grave ofPresident Harrison—Arrival in Cincinnati—First Impressions—TheCongregational Minister—A Welsh Service
Stay at Cincinnati (continued)—Close of the Welsh Service—TheGovernor of Ohio and his Relatives—The "Black Laws"—Governor Bebb'sHostility to them—Dr. Weed and American Versatility—PrivateLodgings—Introduction to Dr. Beecher and others—A Peep at aDemocratic Meeting
Stay at Cincinnati (continued)—The Democratic Meeting—A Visit to LaneSeminary—"Public Declamation"—Poem on War—Essay on Education
Visit to Lane Seminary (continued)—Dr. Beecher and his Gun—TheCollege Library—Dr. Stowe and his Hebrew Class—History of LaneSeminary—Qualifications for Admission—The Curriculum—ManualLabour—Expenses of Education—Results—Equality of Professors andStudents
A Sabbath at Cincinnati—The Second Presbyterian Church—Mutilation of a Popular Hymn—The Rushing Habit—A wrong "Guess"—A German Sunday-School—Visit to a Church of Coloured People—Engagement at the Welsh "Church"—Monthly Concert—The Medical College of Ohio—Tea at the House of a Coloured Minister
Stay at Cincinnati (continued)—The New Roman Catholic Cathedral—TheRev. C.B. Boynton and Congregationalism—"The Herald of a NewEra"—American Nationality
Stay at Cincinnati (continued)—The Orphan Asylum—A Coloured Man and aWhite Fop treated as each deserved—A Trip across to Covington—Mr.Gilmore and the School for Coloured Children—"The Fugitive Slave tothe Christian"—Sabbath—Mr. Boynton—Dr. Beecher—Lane Seminary—Departure from Cincinnati
Cincinnati—Its History and Progress—Its Trade and Commerce—ItsPeriodical Press—Its Church Accommodation—Its Future Prospects—Steaming up the Ohio—Contrast between Freedom and Slavery—AnIndian Mound—Splendid Scenery—Coal Hills
Arrival at Pittsburg—Its Trade and Prospects—Temperance-Newspapers—Trip up the Monongahela to Brownsville—Staging by Night across theAlleghany Mountains—Arrival at Cumberland—The Railway Carriages ofAmerica
Journey by Railroad from Cumberland to Baltimore—A Tedious Stoppage—ASabbath in Baltimore—Fruitless Inquiry—A Presbyterian Church and Dr.Plummer—Richmond and its Resolutions—Dr. Plummer's Pro-slaveryManifesto—The Methodist Episcopal Church
A Sabbath at Baltimore (continued)—A Coloured Congregation—TheThought of seeing Washington abandoned—Departure from Baltimore—Coloured Ladies in the Luggage-Van—American Railways—ChesapeakBay—Susquehannah—State of Delaware, and Abolition of Slavery—Philadelphia—Albert Barnes—Stephen Girard's Extraordinary Will
Departure from Philadelphia—A Communicative Yankee—Trenton—TheMansion of Joseph Bonaparte—Scenes of Brainerd's Labours One HundredYears ago—First Impressions of New York—150, Nassau-street—PrivateLodgings—Literary Society—American Lodging houses—A Lecture onAstronomy—The "Negro Pew" in Dr. Patton's Church
A Presbyterian Church in New York, and its Pastor—The Abbotts and their Institution—Union Theological Seminary—Dr. Skinner's Church—New York University—A threatening "Necessity"—Prejudice against Colour—A Fact connected with Mr. ——'s Church—Another Fact in Pennsylvania—State of Public Opinion in New York—An Interview with Dr. Spring—A Missionary Meeting in Dr. Adams's Church
A Visit to Mount Vernon—Dr. Robinson—Welsh Deputation—Queen Anne andNew York—The Sabbath—Preaching at Dr. L——'s—Afternoon Service atMr. C——'s—Tea at Dr. L——'s—Evening Service at Mr. ——'s
The Rev. Theodore Sedgwick Wright—His Testimony against Caste—HisFuneral—Drs Cox and Patton—The Service in the House—TheProcession—The Church—The Funeral Oration—Mrs. Wright
Trip to New Haven—Captain Stone and his Tender Feeling—Arrival in NewHaven.—A Call from Dr. Bacon and the Rev. Mr. Dutton—Newspapers—TheCentre Church and Standing Order—The North Church and JonathanEdwards, junior
The Spot on which Whitfield preached—Judge Daggett—GovernorYale—Yale College—The Libraries—Elliot's Indian Bible—GeologicalMuseum—Dr. Goodrich—Education and Expenses at Yale College—TheGraves of the Regicides
A Fast-Day—Political Sermons—A Church of Coloured People—TheSabbath—Morning Service—Afternoon ditto and Dr. Hawes—Prayers atCollege Chapel—United Service in North Church—The Cemetery—The"Fathers"—Professor Gibbs—Annual Election—Statistics—Arrival atHartford—Mr. Hosmer—Chief Justice—Deaf and Dumb—Charter Oak
The "Retreat"—Introductions to the Insane—Piety and Profanity—Service in the Fourth Church—Memorials of the Pilgrims—Dr. Bushnelland his Opinions—The Mother Church and its Burying-Ground—The NewCemetery—Prejudice against Colour—Mrs. Sigourney—Departure fromHartford—Worcester and Elihu Burritt—Boston—The Rev. Seth Bliss—TheCradle of Liberty—Mr. Garrison—Bunker's Hill
Boston (continued)—The Old South—Unitarianism, and Connection between Church and State—A Welsh Service in an "Upper Room"—Laura Bridgman and the Wedding Ring—Oliver Caswell—Departure from Boston—John Todd and his Family—His Congregationalism—Albany and the Delevan House—Journey to Utica—Remsen and the Welsh People—Dogs made to churn, and Horses to saw Wood
A Peep at the House of Representatives in Albany—"The Chan is but a Man," &c.—Sailing down the Hudson—Dr. Spring—His Morning Sermon—Afternoon Service—Gough the great Lecturer—The Tract House and Steam-presses—May-day in New York—Staten Island—Immigrants—A hurried Glance
The May Meetings—Dr. Bushnell's Striking Sermon—Two Anti-Slavery Meetings—A Black Demosthenes—Foreign Evangelical Society—A New Thing in the New World—The Home-Missionary Society—Progress and Prospects of the West—Church of Rome—Departure from New York—What the Author thinks of the Americans
What the Author thinks of the Americans (continued)—Slavery —Responsibility of the North—District of Columbia—Preponderance of the Slave Power—Extermination of the Indians—President Taylor and his Blood-hounds
Occasion of Visit to the United States—First Impressions of theMississippi—Magnitude of that River—Impediment at its Entrance—TheNew Harbour—The "Great" and "Fat" Valley—High-Pressure Steam-TugFrolics—Slave-Auction Facetiae.
The ill health of my wife, occasioned by long residence amid the sultry swamps of Guiana, compelled me a few months ago to accompany her on a visit to the United States of America. Having taken our passage in a ship to New Orleans, we found ourselves in fifteen days on the far-famed Mississippi,—the "father of waters." On gazing around, our first feeling was one of awe, to find ourselves actually ascending that majestic stream, that great artery of the greatest valley in the world, leading into the very heart of a continent. The weather was very cold; the trees on the river's bank were leafless; and the aspect of nature on every hand told it was winter. What a change! But a fortnight before we were panting under an almost vertical sun. We found the Mississippi much narrower than we had anticipated. In some places it is only about half a mile wide; while below New Orleans it never, I should say, exceeds a mile in width. This is remarkable, since not less than fifty-seven large navigable rivers contribute to swell its waters. It is, however, very deep, and, even at the distance of 500 miles above New Orleans, is navigated by vessels of 300 tons; nay, at 1,364 miles from its mouth, it attains an average depth of fifteen feet. In its course, it waters 2,500 miles of country. Among the rivers that pour themselves into this immense stream are—the Missouri, which has first traversed a space of 2,000 miles; the Arkansas, 1,300 miles; the Red River, 1,000 miles; and the Ohio, 700 miles.
Unfortunately, at the entrance of this noble river, there is a bar called the Balize, so shallow as hitherto to have seriously interfered with the navigation of large and deeply-laden vessels. Even for the cotton trade, a particular construction of ship has been found needful, with a flatter bottom than usual, in order to pass easily over this bar, any effort to remove which the rapidity of the stream would render fruitless. This circumstance, with the want of harbour at the mouth of the Mississippi, has hitherto operated greatly against the trade with New Orleans, which is 110 miles up the river. Recently, however, a magnificent harbour has been discovered between Cat Island and Isle Apitre, within Lake Borgne, and only ten miles from the coast of the mainland. This new harbour, easily accessible from the sea, at all times contains a depth of water varying from thirty to fifty feet, and is so protected on all sides that vessels may ride with the greatest safety in the worst weather. From this harbour to Bayou on the mainland the distance is only twelve miles, and from Bayou to New Orleans forty-six miles,—making altogether only fifty-eight miles from Cat Island Harbour to New Orleans; whereas, by the difficult and dangerous route of the Mississippi, the distance is 110 miles. The importance and value of such a harbour it is difficult to over-estimate. Its beneficial effect on the future destiny of the great valley will be prodigious.
I have said the "great valley," and well it deserves the appellation. It contains as many square miles, with more tillable ground than the whole continent of Europe. It measures about 1,341,649 square miles, and is therefore six times larger than France. And this valley is as rich as it is extensive. It is the "fat" valley. Never did human eye behold a finer soil, or more luxuriant productions. The treasures beneath the surface are as precious as those above. The lead and copper mines are among the best in the world. Iron and coal also abound. Building materials, of beauty and strength, adapted to form cottages for the poor or palaces for the rich, are not wanting. Nature has here furnished in lavish profusion everything necessary for converting the wilderness into smiling fields, studded with populous cities.
But we are not yet within the great valley. We are only at its entrance, sailing up the "father of waters," against the stream, at the rate of four or five miles an hour. It is usual for sailing-vessels to be towed by steam-tugs to their destination; but, having a fair breeze, and no tug at hand, we were indebted to our sails alone. The motion was exceedingly pleasant, after the tossings we had had in the Gulf of Mexico. The vessel glided smoothly along, and new objects presented themselves continually on either hand.
My enjoyment of the scenery, however, was soon marred by an attack of fever and ague, which sent me below. While I was down, several steam-tugs towing vessels down the river met us. Their unearthly groans filled me with terror. Their noise was not that of puff—puff —puff—puff, like all the other steamers that I had ever heard, but something composed of a groan, a grunt, and a growl—deep-drawn, as from the very caverns of Vulcan, and that at awfully-solemn intervals,—grunt—grunt—grunt—grunt! This peculiarity, I was told, arose from their "high-pressure" engines. The sound, thus explained, brought to my recollection all the dreadful stories of boiler explosions with which the very name of the Mississippi had become associated in my mind. But (thought I) they have surely learned wisdom from experience, and are become more skilful or more cautious than they used to be!
While I was engaged with these reflections, our captain came down, and handed me a couple of New Orleans papers, which he had just received from the pilot. Here was a treat; and, feeling a little better, I began with eagerness to open one of them out. It was theNew Orleans Beeof January 23; and,horresco referens, the first thing that caught my eye was the following paragraph:—
"STEAM-BOAT EXPLOSION.—LOSS OF LIFE.—Captain Haviland, of the steam-ship 'Galveston,' from Galveston, reports that the tow-boat 'Phoenix,' Captain Crowell, burst her boilers when near the head of the South-west Pass [which we had but just passed], killing and wounding about twenty-five in number, seven of whom belonged to the boat, thebalanceto a barque she had alongside; carrying away the foremast of the barque close to her deck, and her mainmast above her cross-trees, together with all her fore-rigging, bulwarks, and injuring her hull considerably. The ship 'Manchester,' which she had also alongside, was seriously injured, having her bulwarks carried away, her longboat destroyed," &c.
Such was the paragraph, with not a syllable of note or comment on cause or consequences. It was evidently an every-day occurrence. What recklessness was here indicated! and how comforting to a sick and nervous man, now near the very spot of the occurrence, and in a vessel about to be placed in the same pleasant relation to one of those grunting monsters as the unfortunate "barque" had but three days before occupied, with the trifling "balance" of eighteen of her crew "killed and wounded!"
The fever having left me, I ventured on deck. At this moment one of these infernal machines came in sight, towing down three large ships. Instead of having them behind, as on the Thames and Mersey, she (like the "Phoenix") had one on either side, closely lashed to herself, and the other only behind. This terrific monster seemed to be carrying them away arm-in-arm, like two prisoners, to destruction. At all events, it was a position of familiarity and friendship with the "Sprite of Steam" of which I did not at all like the idea; and yet we ourselves were by-and-by to be placed in its perilous embrace!
The dreaded monster gone by, I resumed the perusal of my New Orleans papers. Now (thought I) I am in a slave country! I wonder whether these papers will give any indication of the fact. In a little while my eye, surveying theBeeof January 21, caught sight of an advertisement signed "N. St. Martin, Sheriff, Parish of St. Charles," and containing a list of 112 human beings offered for sale! The miserable catalogue was full of instruction. In drawing it up the humane sheriff became quite facetious, telling the public that "Frank, 35 years old, American negro, [was]good for everything;" while "Stephen, 46 years old, [was]fit for nothing at all;" that "Salinette, 60 years old, hospital-nurse, [was]a good subject, subject to rheumatisms;" and that "Peter, American negro-man, 38 years old, [was]a good cook, having had two fits of madness." I will back this against the DublinHue and Cry.
American Oysters—Becalmed in the Mississippi—Anchor raised—Shipashore—Taken off by a Steam-Tug—Slave-Sale Advertisements—RunawayNegroes—Return of Fever—Terrific Storm—Frightful Position—Ashore atNew Orleans—A Ship-Chandler's Store—American Wheels—AJoltification—The St. Charles's Hotel.
The evening closed upon us, sailing pleasantly up the Mississippi. Having a beautiful moonlight night, we kept on our way. About seven o'clock we overtook a small fishing-boat laden with oysters. In consideration of our allowing them—not the oysters, but the boatmen—to fasten a rope to our vessel, to help them on, they gave us a generous and refreshing supply. But such oysters! In neither size nor shape did they resemble those of the Old World. As to size, they were gigantic,—as to shape, not unlike the human foot. They abound not far from the mouth of the river, and many men obtain a livelihood by carrying them up to the New Orleans market. The mode of cooking adopted in this instance was that of putting them on the fire till the shells opened. To our taste, they were not in flavour to be compared to the London oysters; but we did not venture to tell our American captain so. We had yet, however, to taste the deliciously-cooked oysters of the northern cities.
About 10 p.m., the breeze having in a great measure died away, our captain thought it imprudent to attempt to "go a-head" further that night, and the anchor was cast. We were now fifty miles above the entrance of the river.
Early next day the anchor was raised, the sails were unfurled, and we again moved along. About 8 a.m., through the narrowness of the river, the rapidity of the stream, and other causes, our "smart" captain, who had chuckled vastly on passing all other ships in the river,—and especially British ships,—ran his own vessel right ashore! There we were in a complete "fix," till one of the grunting monsters (coming up with two vessels—one on each arm, as usual,—and letting them go for a few minutes,) came to our rescue. Forbidding as was his aspect, we were very glad to feel a little of his giant power. Of this one I had, of course, a better view than I had had of any other of the species. It had, like the rest, two chimneys in front, like perpendicular tusks, with a ladder between them. The ladder was for the purpose of ascent,—the ascent for the purpose of elevation,—and the elevation for the purpose of "look out." The top of the ladder, in short, rendered the same service as the top of a ship's mast at sea. This "tug" had also, a little further aft, a funnel-like sort of chimney, for the emission of steam. The whole structure was—like a forge below, and a palace above. In the lower story were the boiler, engine, fuel, &c., all exposed to view; while, the upper contained splendid apartments for the captain, the engineer, and other officers. The engineer of that vessel, I understood, had a salary of 250 dollars (50 guineas) per month!
Released from our stranded position, we found ourselves in a few minutes lashed to the monster's side, and completely in his power. Here we were, in the same dread position in which the day before we felt horrified to see others! From some of the officers, our captain obtained another newspaper. It was theNew Orleans Daily Picayunefor January 26. Getting hold of it, I found whole columns of slave-sale advertisements. A few specimens will illustrate better than any description the state of things in this "land of liberty!"
"NEGROES FOR SALE.—The subscribers No. 56, Esplanade-street, have just received a lot of valuable Slaves from Virginia and Maryland, consisting of Mechanics, Farm Hands, and House Servants, and have madearrangements not to be surpassedin this market for aregular supplyfrom the above markets, as also Alabama. We hazard nothing in saying, if our former friends, and others wishing to purchase good servants or hands, will give us a call, they shall not be disappointed.
"N.B. All Negroes sold by the undersigned are fully guaranteed.
"SLATTER & LOCKETT,
"56, Esplanade-street."
"n11—6m."
"FOR SALE.—A likely Mulatto Negress, aged twenty-two years,—she is a first-rate cook, and a good washer and ironer, besides being a tolerable good seamstress.
"ANDERSON & BURNET,
"38, Camp-street."
"SLAVES FOR SALE.—I have just received, and offer for sale, a very likely lot of Virginia Negroes. Those wishing to purchase will do well to give me a call at my office, No. 157, Gravier-street, between Carondelet and Baronne streets. I will beconstantly receivingNegroes from Virginia and North Carolina during the winter.
"n13—6m."
"SLAVES FOR SALE.—No. 165, Gravier-street.—The subscriber has always on hand a number of Slaves, consisting of House Servants, Field Hands, and Mechanics, which will be sold low for cash or negotiable paper. Persons desirous of purchasing will find it to their interest to call and examine. The subscriber will also receive and sell on consignment any Negro that may be intrusted to his care.
"He would also respectfully notify persons engaged in the Slave Trade, that he is prepared to board them and their Slaves on the most reasonable terms.
"o1—6m."
"References—J.A. Barelli, C.J. Mansoni."
"ONE HUNDRED NEGROES.—For Sale at No. 13, Moreau-street.—All of which have just been received from Maryland and Virginia. My old friends, and others wishing to purchase Slaves, will find it to their interest to call on me before purchasing elsewhere. Also will receivelarge shipments during the seasonfrom the above States.
"13, Moreau-street."
"d31—3m."
Runaway slaves seem to be constantly advertised, with (as in the case of ship advertisements) a small woodcut figure representing them in the very act of making their escape. Indeed, almost everything advertised is accompanied by its picture,—ships, houses, bonnets, boots, leeches, oysters, and so forth. Even a strayed horse or a strayed cow is advertised with a picture representing the animal in the very act of going astray. On the same principle, and in like manner, human chattels assuming their natural right to go where they please, are advertised with a woodcut representing them as bending forward in the act of running, and carrying with them a small bundle containing their scanty wardrobe,—a pitiable figure! And yet this is done, not to awaken sympathy, but to excite vigilance, as in the following instances, which I have picked out of thePicayune:—
"ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS REWARD.—The aforesaid sum will be given to any person who will bring back to the undersigned the negro-girl Eugenia, and her mulatto child aged two years. Said slave has been purloined or enticed away by her former owner, Madame Widow Decaux, who secretly went out of this State on the 12th December, 1846. Said Widow Decaux is well known in New Orleans as a notorious swindler, having been prosecuted for having pawned logs of wood to a merchant of this city instead of dry goods. She has a scar on her forehead, and several others on her neck, and is accompanied by her aged mother, and her boy aged ten years.
"j7—15t*."
"Ran away from the subscriber, on the 20th November last, a negro man named Sandy, about twenty-five years of age, five feet five inches high, very dark complexion, speaks both French and English,shows the mark of the whip very much. A liberal reward will be paid for his apprehension, either by confining in any gaol, so that I can secure him, or his delivery to me at Plaquemine, La.
"J20—3tW."
And yet the editor of this very paper, in his leading article, reviewing the past, (that day being the tenth anniversary of its own existence,) coolly says, "In entering upon our eleventh anniversary, how different the spectacle! Industry in every quarter of the land receives its meet reward; Commerce is remunerated by wholesome gains;Comfort blesses the toil of the labourer(!) and Hope encourages the enterprise of all the industrial classes of our citizens."
As the day advanced, my fever returned; and I was obliged to go below. A furious tempest arose, so that even our "monster" could scarcely get along. The lightning flashed, the thunder roared, and the rain fell in torrents. It was a terrific day! As night approached, our captain told us the vessel could not then be got any further,—it was about two miles from the city; and if we particularly wished to go ashore, we must get ready directly, and go with him in the steam-tug. Anxious for a good night's rest, on shore we resolved to go. I had to turn out in that state of profuse perspiration which always succeeds the fever, and my wife hurriedly selected a few necessary things. Poor thing! she was almost overwhelmed with the trying circumstances in which she was placed,—thousands of miles from home—about to enter a place in which she knew not a single soul—her husband ill, and herself an invalid! But there was no help for it. Amidst torrents of rain, we made the fearful transition from the ship to the tug, while both vessels were in violent agitation. It was done. And now we were in the "monster's" own bosom, expecting every moment his bowels to burst, and send us into eternity. The noise of the engine, the grunting of the steam, the raging of the wind, the pelting of the rain, and the roaring of the thunder, made it almost impossible to hear anything besides; but I managed to shout in my wife's ear the natural, though not very consolatory question, "Were we ever in so fearful a position before?" "Never!" (and we had had some experience of storms by both land and sea) was her awe-stricken reply.
We detached ourselves from the sailing-vessel; but, with all the power of steam, we could scarcely get along. At last the "monster's" bellowing was hushed,—the tremor ceased,—we were there! But how to get ashore was still a difficulty. It was about 100 yards off. Planks, however, were eventually placed so as to enable us to descend from our lofty "tug" into a ship at anchor, from that into another, from that again into a third, and from that at length onterra firma.
The hour was between 7 and 8 p.m.; and we were taken to a ship-chandler's store, while our kind captain went to get a chaise for us. The store was closed; but the owner and three other gentlemen were there, seated before a comfortable coal fire, apparently enjoying themselves after the business of the day. They received us very courteously, and gave us chairs by the fireside. The storm of that day they told us had done much harm to the shipping, and was severer than any other they had experienced during the last seven years. While the conversation was going on,plashmade one,plashmade another,plashmade a third, by spurting a certain brownish secretion on the floor! I had often heard of this as an American habit, but always thought our cousins in this matter (as in many others) were caricatured. Here, however, was the actual fact, and that in the presence of a lady! Yet these were apparently very respectable men.
Having waited about a quarter of an hour, anxiously listening for the rumbling of the expected wheels, I heard in the distance a strange kind of noise, resembling that of a fire-shovel, a pair of tongs, a poker, and an iron hoop tied loosely together with a string, and drawn over the pavement! "What in the world is that?" said I. "It is the chaise," was the answer. The vehicle was quickly at the door. In we were bundled, and orders given to drive us to the "St. Charles's." We scarcely knew what this "St. Charles's" was; but, as all with whom we had conversed seemed to take it for granted that we should go thither, and as any onesaintwas to us as good as any other, we echoed, "To the St. Charles's." And now began such a course of jolting as we had never before experienced. It seemed as if all the gutters and splash-holes in the universe had been collected together, and we had to drive over the whole. This continued about half an hour, by which we learned that we were at first much further from the "St. Charles's" than we supposed. The machine at last stopped, and we alighted, thankful to have escaped a complete stoppage of our breath.
We were there. A waiter (he was not to be mistaken,—he bore a family resemblance to all the waiters of the world) was instantly at the coach-door, to help usoutand to help usin. He conducted us into a lobby, up a flight of stairs, and through a long passage, to a large saloon, where about 150 ladies and gentlemen were assembled,—some sitting, some standing, some talking, some laughing, and some playing with their fingers. But, no! we shrunk back. Thither we would not be led, all wet and dirty as we were. We begged to be shown into a private room. The waiter stared, and said he had none to take us to, except I would first go to the "office." But what was to become of my fellow-traveller in the meantime? No woman belonging to the establishment made her appearance, and there my wife was obliged to stand alone in the passage, whilst I followed the waiter through aisles and passages, and turnings and twistings, and ups and downs, to a large saloon, where about 200 gentlemen were smoking cigars! What a sight! and what a smell! Who can realize the vast idea of 200 mouths, in one room, pouring forth the fumes of tobacco? I was directed to the high-priest of the establishment in the "office," or (as I should say) at the "bar." Without verbally replying to my application, he handed me a book in which to record my name. Having obeyed the hint, I again asked my taciturn host if myself and wife could be accommodated. He then, with manifest reluctance, took the cigar out of his mouth, and said he had only one room to spare, and that was at the top of the house. It was "Hobson's choice," and I accepted it. And now for a journey! Talk of ascending the Monument on Fish-street Hill! what is that compared to ascending the St. Charles's, at New Orleans? No. 181 was reached at last. The next task was to find my wife, which after another long and circuitous journey was accomplished. In process of time fire was made, and "tea for two" brought up. Let me, therefore, close my letter and enjoy it.
New Orleans—The Story of Pauline—Adieu to the St.Charles's—Description of that Establishment—First Sight of Slaves forSale—Texts for Southern Divines—Perilous Picture.
From No. 181 of the "St. Charles's," we descended, after a good night's rest, to see some of the lions of the place. Here we are (thought I) in New Orleans—the metropolis of a great slave country,—a town in which exist many depôts for the disposal of human beings,—the very city where, a few months ago, poor Pauline was sacrificed as the victim of lust and cruelty! Unhappy girl! What a tragedy! On the 1st of August last, I told the horrid tale to my emancipated people in Berbice. Here it is, as extracted from theEssex(United States)Transcript. Read it, if you please; and then you will have a notion of the feelings with which I contemplated a city rendered infamous by such a transaction.
"Many of our readers have probably seen a paragraph stating that a young slave girl was recently hanged at New Orleans for the crime of striking and abusing her mistress. The religious press of the north has not, so far as we are aware, made any comments upon this execution. It is too busy pulling the mote out of the eye of the heathen, to notice the beam in our nominal Christianity at home. Yet this case, viewed in all its aspects, is an atrocity which has (God be thanked) no parallel in heathen lands. It is a hideous offshoot of American Republicanism and American Christianity! It seems that Pauline—a young and beautiful girl—attracted the admiration of her master, and being (to use the words of the law) his "chattel personal to all intents and purposes whatsoever," became the victim of his lust. So wretched is the condition of the slave woman, that even the brutal and licentious regard of her master is looked upon as the highest exaltation of which her lot is susceptible. The slave girl in this instance evidently so regarded it; and as a natural consequence, in her new condition, triumphed over and insulted her mistress,—in other words, repaid in some degree the scorn and abuse with which her mistress had made her painfully familiar. The laws of the Christian State of Mississippi inflict the punishment of death upon the slave who lifts his or her hand against a white person. Pauline was accused of beating her mistress,—tried, found guilty, and condemned to die! But it was discovered on the trial that she was in a condition to become a mother, and her execution was delayed until the birth of the child. She was conveyed to the prison cell. There, for many weary months, uncheered by the voice of kindness, alone, hopeless, desolate, she waited for the advent of the new and quickening life within her, which was to be the signal of her own miserable death. And the bells there called to mass and prayer-meeting, and Methodists sang, and Baptists immersed, and Presbyterians sprinkled, and young mothers smiled through tears upon their new-born children,—and maidens and matrons of that great city sat in their cool verandahs, and talked of love, and household joys, and domestic happiness; while, all that dreary time, the poor slave girl lay on the scanty straw of her dungeon, waiting—with what agony the great and pitying God of the white and black only knows—for the birth of the child of her adulterous master. Horrible! Was ever what George Sand justly terms 'the great martyrdom of maternity'—that fearful trial which love alone converts into joy unspeakable—endured under such conditions? What was her substitute for the kind voices and gentle soothings of affection? The harsh grating of her prison lock,—the mockings and taunts of unfeeling and brutal keepers! What, with the poor Pauline, took the place of the hopes and joyful anticipations which support and solace the white mother, and make her couch of torture happy with sweet dreams? The prospect of seeing the child of her sorrow, of feeling its lips upon her bosom, of hearing its feeble cry—alone, unvisited of its unnatural father; and then in a few days—just when the mother's affections are strongest, and the first smile of her infant compensates for the pangs of the past—the scaffold and the hangman! Think of the last terrible scene,—the tearing of the infant from her arms, the death-march to the gallows, the rope around her delicate neck, and her long and dreadful struggles, (for, attenuated and worn by physical suffering and mental sorrow, her slight frame had not sufficient weight left to produce the dislocation of her neck on the falling of the drop,) swinging there alive for nearly half an hour—a spectacle for fiends in the shape of humanity! Mothers of New England! such are the fruits of slavery. Oh! in the name of the blessed God, teach your children to hate it, and to pity its victims. Petty politicians and empty-headed Congress debators are vastly concerned, lest the 'honour of the country' should be compromised in the matter of the Oregon Boundary. Fools! One such horrible atrocity as this murder of poor Pauline 'compromises' us too deeply to warrant any further display of their patriotism. It would compromise Paradise itself! An intelligent and philanthropic European gentleman, who was in New Orleans at the time of the execution, in a letter to a friend in this vicinity, after detailing the circumstances of the revolting affair, exclaims, 'God of goodness! God of justice! There must be a future state to redress the wrongs of this. I am almost tempted to say—there must be a future state, or no God!'"
On Saturday, the 30th, we set off to seek private lodgings. Led by a board having on it in large letters the words "Private Boarding," we "inquired within," found what we wanted, and engaged for eight dollars per week each. We then went to pay our bill at the "St. Charles's," and to bring away our carpet-bag. We had been there two nights, had had one dinner, two teas, and two breakfasts. These meals, as we did not like to join the hundreds at the "ordinary," were served to us (in a veryordinaryway however) in our bedroom. In fact, the waiting was miserably done. And yet for this we had the pleasure of paying eleven dollars,—say£2. 6s.! We gladly bade adieu to the "St. Charles's." It suited neither our taste nor our pocket. Nevertheless, it is a magnificent concern. The edifice was finished in 1838 by a company, and cost 600,000 dollars. The gentlemen's dining-room is 129 feet by 50, and is 22 feet high; having four ranges of tables, capable of accommodating 500 persons. The ladies' dining-room is 52 feet by 36. The house contains 350 rooms, furnishing accommodation for between 600 and 700 guests; and it was quite full when we were there. The front is adorned with a projecting portico, supported by six fine Corinthian columns, resting upon a rustic basement. The edifice is crowned with a large dome, forty-six feet in diameter, having a beautiful Corinthian turret on the top. This dome is the most conspicuous object in the city. Viewed from a distance, it seems to stand in the same relation to New Orleans as St. Paul's to London. The furniture of this immense establishment cost 150,000 dollars. A steam-engine, producing a very disagreeable tremor, is constantly at work in the culinary department.
While on our way to get the remainder of our baggage from the ship, we came upon a street in which a long row, or rather several rows, of black and coloured people were exposed in the open air (and under a smiling sun) for sale! There must have been from 70 to 100, all young people, varying from 15 to 30 years of age. All (both men and women) were well dressed, to set them off to the best advantage, as is always the case at these sales. Several of the coloured girls—evidently the daughters of white men—had their sewing-work with them, as evidence of their skill in that department. The whole were arranged under a kind of verandah, having a foot-bench (about six inches high) to stand upon, and their backs resting against the wall. None were in any way tied or chained; but two white men ("soul-drivers," I suppose) were sauntering about in front of them, each with a cigar in his mouth, a whip under his arm, and his hands in his pockets, looking out for purchasers. In its external aspect, the exhibition was not altogether unlike what I have sometimes seen in England, when some wandering Italian has ranged against a wall his bronzed figures of distinguished men,—Shakspeare, Napoleon, Wellington, Nelson, &c. It was between twelve and one in the day; but there was no crowd, not even a single boy or girl looking on,—so common and every-day was the character of the scene. As we moved along in front of this sable row, one of the white attendants (though my wife had hold of my arm) said to me, with all thenonchalanceof a Smithfield cattle-drover, "Looking out for a few niggers this morning?" Never did I feel my manhood so insulted. My indignation burned for expression. But I endeavoured to affect indifference, and answered in a don't-care sort of tone, "No, I am not particularly in want of any to-da—." I could scarcely finish the sentence. Emotion choked my utterance. I passed on, gazing at the troop of degraded human beings, till my eyes became so filled with tears that I was compelled to turn my face another way. Though I anticipated such scenes, and had tried to prepare my mind for them, yet (now that they were actually before me) I was completely overcome, and was obliged to seek a place to sit down while I composed my feelings. With what sentiments my companion beheld the scene, I will leave you to conjecture!
It was Saturday morning; and with my professional habits, I naturally thought of the many divines in that very city, who were at that moment shut up in their studies, preparing their discourses for the morrow. I wished I had them all before me. I could have given every one of them a text to preach upon. I would have said, "Gentlemen, see there! and blush for your fellow-citizens. See there! and never again talk of American liberty. See there! and lift up your voices like so many trumpets against this enormity. See there! and in the face of persecution, poverty, imprisonment, and (if needs be) even death itself, bear your faithful testimony, and cease not until this foul stain be wiped away from your national escutcheon. Dr. S——, to-morrow morning let this be your text,—'Where is Abel, thy brother?' Dr. II——, let your discourse be founded on Exod. xxi. 16: 'And he that stealeth a man, and selleth him, or if he be found in his hand, he shall surely be put to death.' You, the Rev. Mr. C——, let your gay and wealthy congregation be edified with a solemn and impressive sermon on Is. lviii. 6: 'Is not this the fast that I have chosen? to loose the bands of wickedness, to undo the heavy burdens, and to let the oppressed go free, and that ye break every yoke?' And you, the Rev. Mr. H——, let your hearers have a full and faithful exposition of that law which is 'fulfilled in one word, even in this, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.'"
In the afternoon of the same day, as I walked along one of the principal streets, I saw a flag issue from a fine large public building to invite "ladies and gentlemen" to see "the magnificent picture of the departure of the Israelites from Egypt,"—the canvas containing 2,000 square feet, and 2,000,000 of figures! How significant! It would have been still more so, if the number of "figures" had been 3,000,000 instead of 2,000,000. What an "abolition" picture! It must have been worse than "Jacob and his Sons," which was expunged from a catalogue of the American Sunday-School Union, because, in reprehending the sale of Joseph to the merchants, it reflected upon theinternalslave-trade! Surely such exhibitions will affect the safety of the "peculiar institution!"
A Sabbath in New Orleans—The First Presbyterian Church—Expectoration—A Negro Pew—The Sermon.
Think of a Sabbath in New Orleans! Curious to know how people did really pray and preach, with slavery and slave-trading in their vilest forms around them, I set off in search of the "First Presbyterian Church." It is a beautiful building; seldom, if ever, had I seen a place of worship the exterior of which I liked so much. Being a quarter of an hour too soon, I had opportunity for some preliminary researches. Wishing to see whether there was a "Negro Pew," I went into the gallery, and took a seat on the left side of the organ. The "church" I found as beautiful inside as out. Instead of a pulpit, there was a kind of platform lined with crimson, which looked very nice. Most of the pews below, and some above, were lined with the same material. A splendid chandelier, having many circles of glass brilliants, was suspended from the ceiling. Altogether, the "church" was a very neat and graceful structure,—capable, as I learned, of accommodating about 1,500 people. But the floor—the floor! What a drawback! It was stained all over with tobacco juice! Faugh! Those Southern men are the most filthy people in that respect I ever met with. They are a great "spitting" community. To make it still more revolting to luckless travellers, this nasty habit is generally attended with noises in the throat resembling the united growling of a dozen mastiffs.
While the congregation was assembling, a greyheaded, aristocratic-looking old negro came up into the gallery, walked along "as one having authority," and placed himself in a front pew on the right-hand side of the pulpit. Two black women shortly followed, taking their seats in the same region. Others succeeded, till ultimately there were from forty to fifty of the sable race in that part of the gallery. Not one white was to be seen among the blacks, nor one black among the whites. There, then, was the "Negro Pew!" It was the first time even my West India eyes ever beheld a distinction of colour maintained in the house of God!
At eleven o'clock precisely, a man of tall but stooping figure and dark complexion, about forty years of age, muffled up in a cloak, took his stand at the bottom of the pulpit or platform stairs. It was Dr. S——. He appeared to beckon to some one in the congregation. A tall, lank old gentleman, with a black cravat, and shirt-collar turned over ità l'Américain, stepped forward, and, ascending the steps before the Doctor, occupied one of the two chairs with which the rostrum was furnished, the Doctor taking the other. I supposed him to be one of the elders, going to give out the hymns, or to assist in the devotional exercises. At this moment the organ—a fine-toned instrument—struck up, and the choir sang some piece—known, I presume, only to themselves, for no others joined in it. This prelude I have since found is universal in America. In all places of worship provided with an organ, a "voluntary" on that instrument is the first exercise. In the present instance the choir had no sooner ceased than the Doctor stood up, having his cloak still resting upon his shoulders, and stretched forth his right hand. At this signal all the people stood up, and he offered a short prayer. "Where is Abel, thy brother?" thought I, during this address to the Father of the spirits of all flesh. He then read the 23rd and 24th Psalms. "Where is Abel, thy brother?" was still ringing in my ears. The 33rd Psalm was then sung. "Where is Abel, thy brother?" was still heard (by me at least) louder than the swelling tones of the organ. The singing done, of which the choir still had an entire monopoly, the Doctor read the 14th chapter of Mark; and as he read the awful story of our Lord's betrayal, I could not help thinking that the only difference between some of the Southern slave-dealers and Judas was, that had they been in his place, they would have made a "smarter" bargain. The reading, though free from affectation, was not by any means in the best style. The chapter finished, the tall elder (as I took him to be) prayed,—the congregation standing. The prayer was short and appropriate, and the language tolerably correct; but the tone and pronunciation were queer. I supposed them to indicate some provincialism with which I was not acquainted. Along with that peculiar nasal sound for which nearly all Americans are distinguished, there was in the voice a mixture of coaxing and familiarity which was a little offensive; still, as a "layman's" exercise, it was very good. He prayed for "every grace and Christian virtue." Amen, ejaculated I,—then your slaves will soon be free. He prayed for "our nation and rulers." He prayed that "the great blessings of Civil and Religious Liberty which we enjoy may be handed down to future generations." "Looking out for a few niggers this morning?" thought I. He also prayed for "the army and navy, and our fellow-citizens now on the field of battle," in allusion to the Mexican War.—The prayer ended, Dr. S—— gave out another hymn. During the whole of the service, I may here remark, there was a good deal of going in and out, talking, whispering, spitting, guttural turbulence, &c. At first there were about a dozen white boys in my neighbourhood, who seemed as if they belonged to the Sabbath-school; but, having no teacher to look after them, and enjoying the full swing of liberty, they had before sermon all disappeared.
After the singing, Dr. S—— made several announcements,—amongst others, that the monthly concert to pray for the success of Foreign Missions would be held there to-morrow evening, when several speakers would address the meeting. By all means (said I to myself), and I'll try to be present. He also told his people that the Rev. ——. ———, (from some place in Kentucky,—the particulars I did not catch,) was in the city, as a deputation from the ladies, to solicit subscriptions for the erection of a new church that was greatly needed.
The tall man in the black neckcloth then rose, and, to my surprise and disappointment, read a text. It was I Cor. iii. 21: "For all things are yours." I imaginehewas the deputation from the Kentuckian ladies.
After a few introductory remarks explanatory of the context, he proposed to inquire what are the things which "enter into" ("constitute," we should say) the inheritance of God's people. Slaves (said I to myself) are a part of the inheritance of "God's people," both here and in Kentucky: I wonder if he will notice that.
The first thing, I observe (said he), that enters into the inheritance of God's people, is the living ministry—"Paul, or Apollos, or Cephas." To illustrate the value of this blessing, he referred to the imaginary Elixir of Life, the Philosopher's Stone, and the Universal Panacea. If such things really existed, what a high value would men set upon them! But here was something of incomparably higher worth. In order to form an estimate of its value, he led his hearers to imagine the entire loss of the living ministry. Secondly, the "world" belongs to God's people. It is sustained for their sake, and therefore sinners are indebted to God's people for the preservation of their lives. To prove this he referred to the words of our Lord, "Ye are the salt of the earth." In speaking of the preserving nature of salt, he supposed the sea to be without salt.
How pestilential then! But as it is, how salubrious the air that has swept over it! He also referred to another case. There was once (said he) a ship in a tremendous storm; the crew and passengers—about 270 in number—were at their wits' end; nothing appeared before them but a watery grave. On board of that ship was a poor prisoner, bound in chains. He was deemed to be of the filth of the world, and the off-scouring of all things. To that poor prisoner the angel of the Lord came, and told him what must be done to save the life of every one on board. The angel's directions were obeyed, and all were preserved. Thus, for the sake of one of God's people, were 270 lives spared. He offered another illustration. Three men came to converse with Abraham, on the plains of Mamre. They told him that God was about to destroy five cities. Abraham began to intercede for them. The preacher recapitulated the wondrous story of this intercession and its success, as further proving that ungodly men owe the preservation of their lives to the presence and prayers of the people of God. The parable of the tares was also cited, as illustrating the same position. "Let both grow together until the harvest." Imagine (said he) all the people of God removed from the face of the earth—no heart to love Him—no tongue to praise Him,—there would be no reason why the earth should be continued in existence another moment. In the light of this subject, see how great a privilege it is to have pious relatives. "Life" also was, in the third place, a part of the inheritance of the child of God, because during it he makes a provision for eternity. He dwelt on the richness of the treasure which God's people are laying up. Suppose (said he) any of you were making money at the rate of fifty dollars an hour,—(I dare say you do so sometimes, reflected I, when you get a good price for your "niggers,")—how rich you would soon be! and how anxious that not a single hour should be lost! But the child of God is laying up treasure at a faster rate than this. Every time he works for God, he is laying it up. The Christian's treasure is also of the right kind, and laid up in the right place. If any of you were going to emigrate to another country, you would be anxious to know what sort of money was current in that country, and to get yours changed into it. The Christian's treasure is the current coin of eternity. It is also in the right place. Where would you like to have your treasure? Why, at home. The Christian's treasure is at home—in his Father's house. Life is his also, because during it he fights the battles of the Lord. Here the preacher made an approving reference to the war against the Mexicans; and I strongly suspect that this view of the Christian's inheritance was dragged in for the very purpose. We fight (said he) under the eye of the General. We fight with a certainty of victory. Death too was, in the fourth place, a portion of the Christian's inheritance. To the people of God curses are made blessings, and to those who are not his people blessings are made curses. So sickness, persecution, and death are made blessings to the saints. Death to the Christian is like an honourable discharge to the soldier after the toil and the danger of the field of strife. But that illustration (said he) is too feeble: I will give you another. Imagine, on a bleak and dreary mountain, the humble dwelling of two old people. They are bending under the weight of years. Amidst destitution and want, they are tottering on the verge of the grave. A messenger comes, and tells them of a relative who has died, and left them a large inheritance,—one by which every want will be supplied, and every desire realized,—one that will, the moment they touch it with the soles of their feet, make them young again: he points, moreover, to the very chariot that is to convey them thither. Would this be bad news to those old people? Now, such is death to the child of God. The cord is cut, and the spirit takes its flight to the abodes of the blest. Or take another illustration. A stage-coach was once upset. Many of the passengers were in great danger. One man snatched a little babe from among the wheels, and laid it down in a place of safety on the roadside. Twenty years after the same man was travelling in a stage, on the same road, and telling those around him about the accident which had taken place a long time before. A young lady, sitting opposite, was listening to the narrative with eager interest, and at last she burst out with rapture, "Is it possible that I have at last found my deliverer? I was that little babe you rescued!" Something like this will be the disclosures that death will make. Having thus illustrated the inheritance of the people of God, let me ask you (said he) who are not his people—what will all these things be to you, if you die without Christ? The living ministry? The world? Life? Death? Having spoken briefly, with power and pathos, on each of these particulars, he very coolly and deliberately turned to Rev. xxii. 17, and read, "The Spirit and the Bride say, Come; and let him that heareth say, Come," &c., &c., and closed abruptly, with neither an Amen nor an invocation of any kind.
Such was the first sermon I heard in the United States. It was thoroughly evangelical and good; but I listened to it with mingled feelings. It was painful to think that such a ministry could co-exist with slavery. The creed it is evident may be evangelical, while there is a woful neglect of the duties of practical piety.