NEW ORLEANS AS IT IS. (continued 3)

And here I am aware that I shall be met with the usual reply—“that such acts as killing slaves are improbable, for it is so decidedly against the interest of the planter to allow his property to be destroyed in this manner.” I have myself before I learned to the contrary made the same reply; and yet one thing is sure, the reply does not make or prove these things false; and of their truth, I have the testimony of a large portion of the passengers, gentlemen and ladies, on the steamer “Allen Glover,” on her first trip down to New Orleans, in November, 1837. And I repeat that these cruelties are not isolated cases; for men and women are whipped to death, and murdered by inches, and shot down, as a common occurrence in the more Southern States. In proof of this, I was told, on a plantation about twelve miles below the city of New Orleans, by the overseer, that but very few plantations passed more than three or four years without having a slave killed by the driver. He said the season before the driver on this plantation killed the best boy they had. He was beating and kicking the boy, and finally the negro knocked him down. The driver rose up and shot him through the heart. He was a spirited boy from Kentucky, about twenty-three years old, and had been often beaten by the driver for the most trivial thing, and often without the least provocation. And he had borne the goads of the lash so long that his proud spirit broke loose in the fatal blow which he knew would send him to his grave in an instant. And while telling me this, the overseer pointed to the second plantation below, and said the driver about two months before killed a boy by shooting him. When these occurrences take place they are seldom known beyond the limits of the plantation; for it is lawful to kill a negro if he raises his hand against a white man; and I can assure you that few ever make the attempt without being instantly killed.

A WOMAN WHIPPED TO DEATH.

A most brutal and inhuman case of whipping and murdering negroes was done by the driver on J. R.’s plantation, about forty miles from Natchez, in November, 1848. I will give the fiendish monster’s account of it in his own blasphemous language, while boasting of the deed to another driver. He said, “G—d d—n my soul, if I didn’t whip a woman last week until she childed right on the ground while I was whipping her; and a few days before I whipped another woman till I thought she was dead, but she revived a little and I told the niggers to carry her in the hut. The next day she sent for me, and when I went in she told me that she was going to die, and that I had killed her. I told her I was G—d d—n glad of it, and I was d—n sorry I hadn’t done it for her yesterday; and she died that night.” Yet this is all legalized, “moderate correction;” and doubtless will be considered as an “isolated case.”

The driver’s duty on a plantation is to see that the negroes are at work, and to do this he usually follows them into the field, and exercises a general supervision over their labor. His equipments are a heavy knife, a revolver pistol, and a large whip, the lash of which is about seven feet long. While in the field, if the negro does not work rapidly, or if he violates the rules of the plantation, this lash comes down upon him with a power and force that cuts through his clothes and tears his skin and flesh in shreds. These blows will often be repeated by a peculiar swing of the lash from right to left, every one of which will cut a hole where it hits like a scoop with a gouge.

THE “BREAK-DOWN WHIPPINGS.”

The “break-down whippings,” as they are termed on the plantations, are usually done by placing the slave with his face to a post in which is framed a cross bar. An iron collar or ring is put round his neck and fastened to the post. The arms are extended each way and fastened to the cross-bar by rings around the wrist. They are then stripped bare, and thus are whipped from twenty-five to fifty lashes and upwards, and sometimes as long as a man can continue to use the whip without being exhausted, and they often die there under the lash. If a slave is brought down from Kentucky or Virginia, and sold to a planter at the South, and it is understood that he has any pride, or occasionally assumes a degree of independence unbecoming a slave, or shows any reluctance against being driven beyond what is consistent and human, he is, as the drivers say, “getting too damned smart” and must have a small touch of the “Mississippi break-down;” and without any further ceremony he is put on to the post and whipped until the driver thinks he “will not be quite so smart.” And in many cases it is necessary to repeat this “break down” operation a number of times before the “smartness” will all pass out of them.

The change from Kentucky and Virginia slavery, to a large cotton or sugar plantation in the more Southern States, is as great almost as liberty and slavery, and there are many slaves taken from these States and sold far South, that can never be subdued only by death; and this they are sure to meet unless they give up their “smartness.” And in them is only seen exhibited the motto of every American citizen, “Liberty or Death.” They will never yield, for they have the feelings of an American, and the pride and spirit of their own fathers who are among the most distinguished men of their native State. And this is American slavery—one of our “cherished institutions!” and the forbidding of its further extension is now threatening the existence of this happy Union, and to deluge this land in blood!!

WOMAN WHIPPING ON THE PLANTATIONS.

The whipping of women on plantations is in a different manner. Their frock is turned up over their head, and they are made to lie down with their face to the ground, their arms extended and tied to a stake. A board is then taken which is prepared in shape like a shovel. The wide part is bored full of small holes, and with this they are beaten on the bare flesh, from twenty-five to two hundred blows. After these blows are repeated a few times the skin tears away, and the blood and flesh is forced through these holes with great force and flies several feet from them; and yet this is very modest and “moderate correction.”

Females are required to do as much work on a plantation as men, and there are generally about thirty women to seventy men. The treatment of slave women is so severe, and their labor so hard, that very few children are raised on the sugar or cotton plantations; and if they are alive at birth they grow up feeble and puny, and from neglect and the want of proper cleanliness and care very few become men and women.

The relations and intimacy among slaves on plantations are managed with great care, and every thing that is allowed to exist between the men and women, is permitted with a view to degrade and brutalize them, and destroy all moral sense, as well as self-respect. A rule or regulation of any kind calculated to elevate the thoughts above the brute, or a disposition on the part of the slave to cultivate the moral sense, would be crushed at once, and an attempt on the part of a slave to do so would meet with the most severe and cruel punishment. Hence kindred ties, and parental affection, and the attachment between man and wife, are among the first things to be broken up, as the permission of such demonstrations would have a tendency to humanize the slave, and make him, under such circumstances, somewhat an object of sympathy. A connection among them as “man and wife,” in which the planter sometimes officiates in a mock ceremony of marriage, is allowed under certain rules, yet care is taken that such alliances do not continue for a long time. When they are broken up they are allowed to seek other companions for a short time. Thus they succeed in preventing anything like an affection, or attachment, or respect for an alliance in the character of “man and wife.”

The following extract of a letter from a highly respectable gentleman in Galveston, has been kindly furnished me, and a more truthful picture, to the life, cannot be drawn, and one too on which the good people of this country can look, and stand rebuked by the lesson of moral sense, which came up in the honesty of his soul from this poor slave, in view of the life which he would have entailed upon himself and kindred, had he fulfilled the marriage vow with poor Lucy. The occurrence took place in December, 1848—

“Bob had agreed to be married, and on the night of the wedding did not appear. His lady love came for him the next night after, and the matter was thoroughly discussed between them. She, poor thing, reproached him for his inconstancy with tears and sighs at a great rate. Bob finally said to her by way of comfort—‘Lucy what is de sense ob niggers marrying—it don’t mean any ting. When white folks marry, dey say matches made in heben—when nigger marry children all slaves—nigger dont own he wife—nigger woman dont own her husband—more misery, misery, all come ob nigger marrying.’”

Alas! too true. How often we laugh when we ought to be ashamed that our sensibilities are not more deeply shocked.

RESTRICTIONS UPON SLAVES.

The restrictions over the slave in New Orleans are exceedingly rigid and severe. At 8 o’clock in the evening a cannon is fired in the Place d’Armes, as a note of warning for all slaves to leave the streets and “turn in.” If they are caught out after this hour without a written pass from their masters, they are taken by the watch to the calaboose or city prison; and in the morning are whipped twenty-five lashes, and their master is obliged to pay three dollars to get them discharged. When the slaves become too “damned smart,” or for any thing which they may do, require punishment, the general practice with the slave owners is to send them to the calaboose, where they have all the shackles and preparations necessary to do up such jobs in good order and on short notice. In doing this, also, the masters save themselves from the indignation of the slave, which would naturally become aroused if the punishment was inflicted by the hand of the master himself. The slave to be whipped is sent with a note to the calaboose, in which is money to pay for the job. If twenty-five cents is in the note he gets twenty-five lashes,—if fifty cents or a dollar he gets accordingly. And this whipping slaves at the calaboose at one cent a blow is a very lucrative business, and many a poor fellow comes away with scarcely a shred of skin on his back, and very often he does not know for what crime or for what purpose the whipping has been given him, unless it is because “he is getting too damned smart.” For the crime of attempting to gain his liberty, for running away, a slave is punished more severely than for any thing that he may do where death is not the penalty. And very often for repeated acts of this kind, where the design is only to whip him within “an inch of his life,” a mistake is made in the distance of an inch, and he is whipped within a quarter of an inch and dies in a few moments. Next on the list of crime, a slave is punished for stealing almost as severely as for running away, and they are often whipped severely on mere suspicion of having stolen. For the punishment of slave women in New Orleans, for any crime, either theft or being “quite smart,” or for general correction, they are usually sent to the work house, and from here they are organized in chain gangs, and put in charge of a driver, and sent out to clean the markets and collect the dirt and rubbish in the streets. When a slave woman is sent to the work house by her master for punishment, he is obliged to pay twenty-five cents a day for the privilege of having her worked in the chain gang. In November, 1848, I saw a chain gang of forty-nine women and girls in Exchange street, cleaning away the rubbish, brick and dirt, that had accumulated in tearing down buildings for the purpose of extending the street through from Custom to Bienville streets. They were shoveling dirt and brick into large boxes, on each side of which were fastened long sticks extending each way far enough for handles. They would load the boxes and carry them some distance to be taken away by carts.

CHAIN-GANGS OF WOMEN.

These chain-gangs are formed by fastening together two women with a chain about ten feet long around the waist of each, and in this situation they are driven about the city day after day as street scavengers, and among them are often many fine appearing and delicate looking mulatto girls; yet they are here driven to the hard toil of shoveling dirt, and doing the heavy labor of a beast; while the proud and chivalrous southern gentleman will pass by and see these women thus degraded and brutalized, and never have thought or feeling of shame, nor a blush come over them, that such scenes are an outrage upon humanity, and a deep and damning disgrace to the civilized world. And yet here too, in this christian land, will christian men and women, witness this more than savage brutality, and heed it less than they would if the women were dogs, while at the same time these pious ladies will contribute money and means to civilize and christianize the poor heathen in some far distant land. And more than this, they will indite long prayers and repeat them time and again, that heaven would prosper the great cause which lies so near their heart, of turning the brutal heathen from his inhuman practices; and yet these same heathen, if they could promenade the streets of this city with these pious ladies, they would be shocked at sights of barbarity and cruelty, such as savages would never inflict, unless to punish their most deadly enemy. And here let me ask, in view of such scenes as are daily witnessed under the sanction of public authority; if there is any sense of propriety in men, or any regard for common decency, should not public opinion frown upon such men who make these regulations with a force that would drive them into the haunts of savages where they properly and constitutionally belong.

SLAVES COMPELLED TO FIND WORK.

The treatment of slaves in New Orleans as a general thing is horrid in the extreme. There are many who are driven daily into the streets and obliged to find work, and at night return with their wages, and if they do not do it, are sent to the calaboose and whipped from fifty to an hundred lashes. There are also hundreds of slaves owned by Irish draymen, who are worked from fifteen to twenty hours a day, and do it continually for months in succession. The most severe and cruel master that ever had power over flesh and blood, is an unlearnt and ignorant Irishman, and in New Orleans, you cannot frighten a negro so badly by any thing that you may say or do, as to tell him you will sell him to an Irishman. They almost prefer death to an Irish master, and they certainly are the most unfeeling, inhuman monsters that can be found on earth. There are also a large number of slaves who are obliged to steal or beg their living, and yet are forced to work and give every farthing they earn to their masters. The sleeping pens also of the slaves generally are unfit for the meanest cur that runs the street; and yet in connection with all this, the practice of whipping, kicking and beating the slaves is so common that sympathy does not appear to be one of the attributes of the human soul. An instance of severity in punishment that came under my own observation, was inflicted on a mulatto girl about twenty-three years old. She was whipped by a negro trader, two hundred lashes and was literally cut to pieces. There was scarcely a particle of skin on her back, and her breasts were torn open in gashes and hung in shreds cut almost entirely from her body. Another mulatto girl I saw who had been beaten by a lady, one of the wealthy, accomplished and fashionable women in the city. She knocked the girl down, stamped on her head and face and broke out two of her front teeth. She was blind with one eye, and her head and face was swollen as full as the skin could be pressed.

CHIVALROUS LADIES.

It is a very common thing to hear a lady in New Orleans, boast of beating and whipping negro men and women, and they will do it with as much pride and manifestation of prowess, as though they had bearded a lion in his den; and yet the poor negro, when a lady attempts to whip him, is only obliged to stand and bear what comes upon him without daring to move or raise his hand. If he should be so uncourteous as to stir, or run away when a lady was beating him, it is a crime for which he is sent to the calaboose and is more severely whipped than for almost any thing that he may do. And yet such are the ladies of New Orleans, and they are pious and christian ladies too, and their hearts are BIG with sympathy for the poor heathen who are so degraded and suffering so much for the blessings of civilization.

SLAVE MARKET.

Go to the slave market in New Orleans, in the Arcade, on days of Auction sales for slaves and you will see and learn what you cannot in any other place in the world but a slave market. For it is here before you in unmistakable character, how completely unfeeling, inhuman and brutalized a man can become, and yet be a “gentleman and respectable.” And surely it would be unkind and ungenerous in the extreme, to say that those fine looking, rich and generous hearted men who stand there daily and only sell slaves, are not “gentlemen and respectable.” And notwithstanding all the brutality which you see them exhibit, they claim to have in a large degree, the common sympathies of our nature, as well as moral sensibilities. But an astonishment amounting to amazement comes over you when you view these men as they are truly exhibited here. You see before you an hundred men, women and children of all ages, colors and complexions, and many of them as white and even whiter than the auctioneer or the purchaser. You hear their rude jokes and loud laugh, while describing the qualities and condition of some female, and you can see her shrink back and drop her head with the true feelings and sense of female delicacy; and yet this just rebuke upon them only calls out another rude joke as evidence of greater brutality, while the delicacy and blush of shame, which their rudeness has brought upon the brow of a slave, should teach them even in a slave market to observe the common rules of decency, while treating with females, although they may be slaves. For certainly man should never forget that modesty is one of the natural impulses of the female heart, and never can be invaded in the broad light of day, without changing the warm current of her blood into a blush of shame upon her brow.

When slaves are put upon the block to be sold, their age is told, their capabilities for different kinds of labor are described, their disposition, their perfections and imperfections all come out in detail, and if they are healthy and in good condition, the Auctioneer proclaims that “they are fully guarantied against all the vices and maladies prescribed by law,” and “now, how much is bid for him!” and while the sale is progressing, the slave usually stands like a statue, not a muscle in his countenance moves, nor an expression other than a wandering gaze. And yet you can see that there is an agony and struggle with the feelings of the soul, deeper than tears can call up, or groans express. Here they stand as cold and chilled as the speechless marble, awaiting their doom and destiny. And while all this is going on, you can hear in the crowd of slaves, in low whispers, the mother pleading with the inhuman slave-dealer, and begging and beseeching him in all the agony of a mother’s heart, that her child may not be torn from her. And in return for this she gets the blasphemous curse and a look of more than demon’s glare, that bid her be silent, and tells her that the child is not her own.

And now of such scenes as are here witnessed, I only ask that the people of this LIBERTY-loving land, that fathers and mothers, those whose impulses have never been chilled by avarice and the desire of ease, and the blighting and deadly influence of long familiar custom; let them stand in the slave Auction, in the city of New Orleans, for one hour only, and then let them answer whether they have nothing to do as moral beings, as Christians, and as American citizens, with this outrage upon humanity—this mountain of shame and disgrace that bears down upon the soul of every American—this libel upon the genius of our institutions. If they must go away with sealed lips from such scenes as are here presented, and never raise their voice against them, then may all the accumulated wrongs of the earth be set upon this land, and never be rebuked, nor resisted by the moral sense of community.

The number of slaves sold here at auction is very great, and it is the only place in the city for such sales. There are a large number of traders’ pens, where slaves are received on consignment, and sold on commission. The traders also buy for speculation. The largest of these establishments is in Esplenard Street. They are a long row of low buildings, and on the front step, on the side-walk, the slaves are made to stand for exhibition from 9 o’clock in the morning till 4 o’clock in the afternoon. There are often in these slave-pens, arranged in a line on the side-walk, from five to eight hundred, and these are all fine-looking, robust, stout young men and girls, from the age of sixteen to twenty-five. There are also, in rear of the public sale-room in the Arcade, a number of small rooms, occupied by negro traders and speculators, who bring the negroes from their pens every day, and keep them here for exhibition. This depot in the Arcade is the largest slave market in New Orleans.

To satisfy curiosity, in the fall of 1848, I stepped into one of the rooms, in which were about thirty slaves, principally girls from the age of fifteen to twenty. I observed a fine-looking mulatto girl, about seventeen years old, and enquired her qualities. The trader called her up, and replied, that “she was an excellent sewer, and a first-rate dress-maker—good body-servant and lady’s waiting-maid and nurse—good disposition, kind and careful with children, and perfectly healthy, and without a fault or blemish of any kind.” After this description, he said to her—“Put out your foot and pull up your clothes. See what a fine foot and ancle she has got.” He then bid her turn round, and putting his hands on her waist and hips, said—“See what a beautiful form.” And then removing the slight covering from her neck, he remarked—“And what fine full breasts she has: she will raise at least eight children.” And during all this common place exhibition, I closely watched the blood course through her veins, and could discover a deep tinge of crimson flash over her cheek, and her eyes fell to the floor, as evidence that she involuntarily shrunk from the rudeness that was thus being forced upon her, while the trafficker in human flesh stood there as brutal and unfeeling as though every heart was as callous to moral sensibility as his own. I turned away with a shudder from the scene before me, ashamed of the curiosity that had prompted me to make this invasion upon female delicacy, and call out such an exhibition of human depravity as this trader presented, while her sense of propriety and delicacy had not even the privilege of covering her face, nor the apology of temptation.

DEPRAVITY OF SLAVE-HOLDERS.

There is no place in the world in open day light, where every shade of modesty and common decency is so entirely disregarded, as in these slave Auctions and slave pens, in charge of traders and speculators. And they are without exception the most thoroughly schooled in all that can annihilate every sense of propriety and self respect. Although they are generally wealthy and respectable, and usually men of families, yet they herd in with the slave women that they have in market, like beasts of the field, and in this have no concealment or regard for public observation, or of the ultimate consequences in filling up the slave market with their own children. And this wanton intercourse with slave women is general on plantations, and in small towns and villages, among planters, overseers and drivers, and also among young men of every class and condition in life. It is also a uniform practice with the planters in the lower slave states, when called upon by those to whom they extend their hospitalities, to offer them a bed companion from among their slaves. And in doing this they only treat their friends with the common civilities of the day. And Southern gentlemen will often take with them when travelling a slave woman for a companion, and do it with as little regard to concealment in the matter as though she was his wife, in occupying the same state room on steam boats and at public houses. As excuse for such things, I am aware of the same old argument—“that these instances are rare occurrences, and only practiced by a few men of no account.” But I repeat the assurance, and I give it from what I have seen, and have learned from reputable sources, and the acknowledgements of slave holders and traders themselves, that these things are a part of the social system against which the moral sense of community has never raised its voice.

As an instance of this kind, the following is in character. In the fall of 1848, while the steamer Dove, was on her passage from Louisville to New Orleans, a negro trader was on board with sixteen slaves, nine cows, and two horses. He was an old trader, and had acquired a large property—was a gentleman and respectable, and had a wife and several beautiful daughters in Louisville, Kentucky, where he resided. But, trader-like, he herded in with his negro women for bed companions during the whole voyage, as openly and as shameless as though he was only conforming to the most chaste and refined sentiments of the travelling public.

Another of those isolated cases of southern refinement was witnessed in the steamer “New Orleans,” on her upward trip in Dec. 1848. A gentleman (of course,) had with him for a travelling companion a fine looking mulatto girl, who occupied the same state room with him, and this intimacy was known to the captain and officers of the boat, and all the passengers. I refer to these things thus particular as evidence, the truth which can easily be ascertained that there are at least isolated cases of these outrages, and I again repeat the assurance that these demonstrations are among the legalized practices of every day life in the slave States; for certainly whatever is so common, must by all the rules of common law be legal!!

REFLECTIONS.

I leave this matter without comment, and only request the reader to ask himself from whence come these exhibitions? Why this utter annihilation of every particle of moral sense that places man above the brute? And why this degradation of their own feelings, and want of self-respect? And yet to answer these questions, you can only say, that they are the legitimate fruits of slavery—of man being empowered by the laws of his country to hold his fellow beings in bondage,—and wherever this might creates the right, these things will be prominent in the social relations. I know it is said that under this blessed system the slaves enjoy themselves, are contented and happy, and will “hug their chains.” And I know too that this assertion is false in every particular, and that those who make it do so with the full knowledge of the falsehood which they utter; for it is thrown back in his face in language that he cannot misunderstand, every time he looks upon a slave in the deep agony of spirit which he is witness to every day, coming up from the dark recesses of that poor slave’s heart that he has stricken down by the laws of the land, and kneels cowering before him like a dog! If you do not believe this, just turn the scene upon yourself, and let the laws of the slave code and the condition of the slave come down upon you for a few short months, and then go among and tell your fellow citizens whether these things are true, and whether these are only a few “isolated” cases of these wrongs, and whether you think the picture is overdrawn and embellished with ideal matter. But before you take this load upon yourself, I can tell you this is no fancy sketch; for the poet’s wild and delirious imagination has not power to portray these scenes with the colors of fancy; for the breathings of the deep agonies of the human soul cannot be portrayed by the impotence of thoughts uttered in language from the tongue of man. For I have seen the aged slave mother, who had dragged through a life of prostitution, and had around her daughters, who were being driven out into the same ceaseless round of degradation. And I have witnessed a mother’s feelings poured out from the fountain of tears, and have heard her mourn and lament that the monster death had not taken her child before she had become the fit sport and prey of the monster man. And in view of such a life, I have heard the slave mother exult and rejoice, as they ever do, while her daughter and child lay before her a cold and stiffened corpse. And yet you may think this is an idle tale, but when you have seen what I have often witnessed, the slave mother look on her child who had just closed its eyes in death, and say, “I am glad she is dead—master has been trying to sell her for a long time, and she is now well sold. God has got her, and he is a good kind master, and I am glad she has gone, for she will not have to suffer misery, misery, as the poor slaves do.” And this is literally true word for word, as I heard uttered by a slave mother in New Orleans, over the corpse of her daughter about twelve years old. And this is the universal expression of feeling with the slave mothers when their children die. They never mourn nor weep, but rejoice and seem happy.

I now leave all the facts and representations with the reader, with the most positive assurance that they are true in every particular, and so far as the subject of slavery is presented, human language contains no power adequate to portray the reality to the conception of him who has never witnessed it. It must be seen and heard to be realized. You must look over a Sugar or Cotton plantation—you must look into the slave pens in the city of New Orleans—you must stand in the Auction market on the day of sale, and hear the mother plead that her child may not be torn from her. You must witness brothers and sisters bid each other farewell, forever too, as they follow their new master off to an early and premature grave. You must witness the deep agony of spirit, deeper than can be called up from the fountain of tears. You must witness the sundering of kindred ties, and hear the happy mother rejoice that her child is dead. All this you must witness, and then the long days of unending toil—the cruelties—the tortures of the lash—the murders by the club, the knife and the pistol, and when you have seen these things you can realize what slavery is; but you cannot feel what it is, for none but a slave can do this, and you cannot tell it, nor describe it to him who has not witnessed it.

In view of the institution of slavery in all its phrases, there is not a redeeming feature—not one bright spot—not one solitary rule or regulation in the whole system, can be offered as an apology for its abuses, and from beginning to end it is one scene of pollution and death; for its base is avarice, its superstructure idleness, its summit licentiousness, and can there be any thing but wrong in a fabric sustained by such principles? And I ask if the moral sentiment, the spirit of Liberty, and the promptings of humanity, have nothing to do with this mountain of wrongs—this great national curse—this damning shame, that shocks with a blush the countenance of every American when he is pointed to, and taunted with this libel upon the genius of our institutions—upon humanity itself? And must American citizens forever forbear and submit to these outrages?—And must the philanthropist seal in perpetual silence his lips, and never plead for the wrongs of his crushed and bleeding fellow men? Is moral indignation never to be aroused only by crimes committed at our own door? Are Liberty and Freedom mere empty sounds to be forever stayed by the power of tyrants, and the threats of those who trample them under their feet? And must the American citizen forever suffer the disgrace, and be taunted by this libel upon the Declaration of Independence? If this must be—if the patriot, the philanthropist, and the christian, can submit to these things and discharge their duty to themselves, to their God and their country, then more criminal than the slaveholder will they be, for they must answer it to the bar of their own conscience, as well as to the spirit of the age in which they live. And if they are now idle their condemnation will be overwhelming. But this cannot be so—the warning note has gone out—“Slavery must fall.” The eyes of the civilized world are upon it. The philanthropist, the patriot and the christian, are bearing down upon it with a force of moral power that never fail to crush the wrong and drive the evil from the land. And blind indeed must that man be who cannot see the tendencies of the spirit of the age. And dark and benighted must he be, who has not yet learned that the people of this country have determined that this mountain of wrong, this curse of all curses, shall be driven from among us, for it has been seized hold of by the divine aspirations of the human soul, and no power on earth can stay it. That morbid sensibility, that fawning sycophant servility to the slave power, that fearful foreboding of the future, that came up a few years ago against the light and truth, that demonstrated itself in burnings, mobs and riots, have become changed, and in place of madness and alarms the spirit of justice and Liberty have become the ruling passions of the day. Equality before the Laws is engraven upon the escutcheon of every shield, and it cannot be stricken out by the breath of an orator, nor made less potent by the cry of disunion. The slaveholders may meet in convention—manifesto may follow manifesto, from the great champion of slavery and bondage—the threat and cry of dissolution may be thrown out to call up the servility and obsequiousness of the North, to check the current of thought and speech that is bearing down so fearless upon every part of this great citadel—the “peculiar institution” may be held up as guarded by the sanctity of age and law, and constitutional entrenchments, but “IT IS TOO LATE,” and they will be swept away by the MORAL SENSE which is aroused in a spirit of action through the length and breadth of this land. And the evidence that this work has begun, is that the slaveholders themselves have become aroused, and they see in letters of “livid light” its doom and destiny, written upon the walls—Mene, Mene, Tekel. And although they are lashing themselves into phrenzy and madness, yet when the storm of passion shall become hushed, and the “second sober thought” prompted by reason and justice comes over them, they will be caught up by the spirit of the age—their moral sensibilities will be awakened, and while the hoary headed fabric is trembling to its base, they will seize its trembling pillars and tear them away, and thus hasten its fall; and when the deed is done, they will look over the ruins with amazement, and wonder how they could “live and breathe” amid those scenes of pollution and death.