From: The Dial, Vol. I, No. II (Oct. 1840)
Author:
Published: Weeks Jordan and Company 1840 Boston
THESE Sermons form a signal exception to the manner in which the instructions of the pulpit are usually dispensed. They were pronounced before an audience, scarce one of which could be presumed to sympathize with the views that were urged; they were intended not to set aside a speculative error, nor to enforce an abstract moral precept, but to rebuke a sin that was deeply fixed in the habits of the people; and, so far from being adapted to win for the preacher the golden opinions of his hearers, he uttered them at the risk of his popularity, his reputation, nay, of his personal safety. He might have had good reason to believe, that when he left that pulpit, in which he stood to discharge a painful, but imperative duty, he would never be suffered to lift up his voice in it again, if, indeed, he should not fall a prey to the wild wrath of those, whose social corruptions he had probed to the quick.
The position which Mr. Simmons occupied was one of no common privilege, calling for the exercise of a lofty valor, enabling him to accomplish an act of wise and noble self-sacrifice, presenting one of those solemn moments, in which a soul of true vitality lives more than in many years of sloth and worldly indulgence. Here was a young man, fresh from the cold refinements of the schools, nurtured in the enervating atmosphere of a dainty literature, connected with a religious sect, which reckons a cautious prudence among the cardinal virtues, and tempted by the counsels and customs of society to overlook a vice, that was so prevalent as to be feared. The sight of human beings in bondage moved his spirit to expressions of rebuke and pity. He could not conceal from himself the sin into the midst of which he was thrown. He saw it in its true light. He judged it by the standard of the divine law. He felt that it was one of the chief duties of a servant of Christ, to compare the practice of his hearers with the principles of his Master, and to give his public testimony to its character, with an emphasis and distinctness, that should not fail to be understood. It is easy to conceive of the struggle which such a mind must go through, before it could form the resolve to utter the most offensive truths to men, with whom the speaker had lived in intimacy, with whose characters, in many respects, he cherished a sincere sympathy, and from whom his faithfulness might alienate him forever.
The spirit, in which Mr. Simmons performed his difficult task, was suited to disarm the opposition even of an enemy. His statements are nicely weighed; they are free from the semblance of exaggeration; not a particle of anger infects the purity of his rebuke; he approaches the wounds he would cleanse and heal not with rudeness, but with sorrow and love; he shows that he does not hate the slaveholder, while he defends the rights of the slave; he fully appreciates the circumstances which palliate the offence, recognises the good qualities which grow in an ungenial soil, and admits the distinction between the victim of vicious institutions, and the deliberate, wilful violator of a Divine law. His language is like that of a brother pleading with a brother, of a Christian, whose moral indignation is mingled with deep grief; of a man, who, conscious of infirmity himself, can make a just allowance for the infirmity of others.
In his first Discourse, Mr. Simmons urges the duty of compassion and indulgence towards the slave. “The negro,” says he, “is our brother. To be regarded with fraternal feeling is, therefore, his due. We bestow it on him not as a favor, but as a debt.”
In the second Discourse, he points out the inferences that proceed from this principle. It entirely overthrows slavery. Christianity makes all men our brethren. Slavery makes men our tools. The spirit of Christianity must finally cast off every yoke. Slavery is wrong. We can own servants only as we own wives and children. They cannot be a part of our property; nor, without great injustice, can they be treated as such.
These are the general principles, on which all right endeavors for the emancipation of the slave are founded. It is the purpose of those, who are now laboring for this object, to give the widest currency to these principles, to bring them home to the moral sense of society, and to apply them to the heart and conscience of all, who are concerned in the perpetuation of slavery. Their triumph will be the triumph of moral truth over material interests.
The immediate effect of these Discourses might have been anticipated by those who are aware of the jealous and sensitive spirit, which is always produced by the assertion of an unjust claim. Truth courts discussion; the consciousness of right invites the most searching examination; it fears nothing so much as judgment without inquiry; it loves the light; and brings all its deeds and words to that test. No man wishes to wink out of sight what he does not know to be wrong. But evil always makes cowards of those whom it infects. Its anxiety to hush up the faintest whisper betrays its character. Hence the timidity of the slaveholder. Hence the frantic violence with which he opposes all discussion, by which his deeds may be reproved. Hence the primitive manner in which a servant of Christ is forced to leave the scene of his labors, reminding us of Paul let down by night in a basket, or the earlier disciples, as they were persecuted from one city, fleeing into another.
On Monday morning, Mr. Simmons was accused before the Grand Jury. They looked into the offence, examined many witnesses, and dismissed the complaint. He was then waited on by his friends, who were anxious for his welfare and for the public peace. They advised him to withdraw from the immediate presence of the multitude. He complied with their suggestions, and passed the night out of the city. The next day, the irritation increased; the neglect of the Grand Jury exasperated still more the minds of individuals; and the danger of personal violence became imminent. He was unanimously counselled to go away. He followed the counsel, and left the city. In his own opinion, he was expelled from Mobile not by the people of Mobile, but solely by a cabal in it.
We are inclined to think, that it would have been better had he remained on the post of danger, and submitted to the worst. We know not that his life would have been the sacrifice. If it had been, we believe that he would have found such a death not without joy. To die for the assertion of a truth, on which the welfare of man depends, is not the greatest of evils by far. The man, who dies for the freedom of the soul, for the meek defence of a brother’s rights, for the rebuke of sin in high places, for sympathy with the down-trodden and forsaken, is happier than he, whom death finds in the carnage of the battle-field, or on the softest couch of selfish luxury. In this instance, he would have probably escaped with personal indignity and suffering. Every example of this manfully borne is a great gain. Every example of heroic fortitude, amidst the mistaken judgments, or the open hostility of the world, is an accession to its highest wealth. We need men who love their duty better than their lives, who can take joyfully the spoiling of their goods, and the destruction of their hopes, who are willing to be made of no reputation for the sake of advancing the progress of truth and good, and who have cheerfully volunteered their services on the forlorn hope of humanity. The author of these Discourses was not called to such a fiery trial. We trust, however, that he has a soul that will never shrink from it; and that the voice of popular applause, and the temptations of society, will never lead him to forget the dreams of his youth.
We have a few words to add, in regard to the manner in which Mr. Simmons has spoken of those, to whom our country is indebted for the most effectual assertion of freedom for all its inhabitants. We think the impartial verdict of history in their behalf will be of a different character from that which he has recorded. We say this without any personal bias; for our acquaintance with individual abolitionists is very limited; we have never been in the habit of acting with them; we have no case to make out in their favor; but our opinion is formed from their published writings, which we have read diligently. Their object is to declare to the world the convictions which they have attained in private, to make it universally felt that the holding of property in man is a sin, and thus, by peaceful measures, to destroy the crying vice of this nation, and the disgrace of our age. In the defence of their principles, no doubt, there may be the leaven of human imperfection; for man still shares in the fall of Adam; there may be much bad rhetoric; there may be a violation of the decorous courtesies, which hold well-bred people in such fear of each other, that they dare not speak out their minds; they may sometimes utter the voice of rebuke and warning in tones that grate harshly on ears, which are daily soothed by the sweetest music of flattery. This is natural enough. It could hardly have been avoided. But they keep higher laws than they break. “We must pardon something to the spirit of liberty,” which fills their souls. It is in their ranks that we must look for the most disinterested devotion to a great cause, for the deep sincerity which will not let the tongue stay dumb, for a noble disregard of fashion and prejudice, for the intense perception of the rights of universal man, and for a willingness to brave persecution, contumely, and death, in their defence. Such qualities cannot long be overlooked. Once seen, they cannot be despised. The heart is true as steel to their attractions. Though now condemned, in their most prominent displays, by the ephemeral society of this instant, to-morrow the voice of humanity will echo in their honor.
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