Then I
pitied you, and I pitied myself for my own former ignorance, and I
pitied very many of our Northern people, and, not the least, such
persons as poor "Isaiah," who I know are honest, but are grievously
misled. The word slavery is, to us, an awful word. Very much of our
anti-slavery feeling is a perfectly natural instinct. You cannot see
Java sparrows in a cage, nor even a mother-hen tied to her coop, without
a lurking wish to give them liberty. On thinking of being "a slave," we
immediately make the case our own, and imagine what it would be for us
to be in bondage to the will of another. We cannot easily be convinced
that this is not exactly parallel with being one of the slaves at the
South, nor that to be a slave does not have these things for its
inseparable conditions, which, we imagine, are always obtruding their
direful visages; namely, "auction-block," "overseer," "whip,"
"chattelism," "separations," "down-trodden," "cattle." Hence it is easy
for orators and preachers to work on our sympathies. There are scattered
facts enough to justify any tale which any public speaker chooses to
relate. I confess that my respect for many of our Northern people has
not risen, as I see them from this point of view.
Pages:
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107