But here is one holy angel with its music; a
ministering spirit; but is she a Lot in Sodom? Abdiel in the revolted
principality? a desolate, mourning Rizpah on that rock which overlooks
four millions of slaves and their tortures?
In a less instructed state of mind on this subject, I should once have
said, on reading this letter,--This is slavery. Here is a view of life
at the South. As a traveller accidentally catches a sight of a family
around their table, and domestic life gleams upon him for a moment; as
the opening door of a church suffers a few notes of the psalm to reach
the ear of one at a distance, this letter, written evidently amidst
household duties and cares, discloses, in a touching manner, the
domestic relations of Southern families and their servants wherever
Christianity prevails. It is one strain of the ordinary music of life in
ten thousands of those households, falling accidentally upon our ears,
and giving us truthful, artless impressions, such as labored statements
and solemn depositions would not so well convey, and which theories,
counter-statements, arguments, and invectives never can refute. Our
senior pastor would say that the letter is like the Epistles of
John,--not a doctrinal exposition, but a breathing forth of the spirit
which the evangelical history had inspired.
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