2. Next he determines what it is which "amounts to such advising or counselling another as will be sufficient to constitute this legal element in the offence." First he constructs the physical act which is the misdemeanor, namely, standing in the high road and thereby hindering a kidnapper from "passing freely along that way; or being so situated as to be able to afford assistance to others thus standing; or advising another thus to stand, or be situated:" next he constructs the advice, the metaphysical act, which is equally a "misdemeanor." This is the square root of construction No. 2. Look at this absurd quantity.

"Such a procurement may be, either by direct means, as by hire, counsel, or command, or indirect, by evincing an express liking, approbation, or assent." Thus the mere casual expression, "I wish Burns would escape, or I wish somebody would let him out," is a "Misdemeanor;" it is "evincing an express liking." Nodding to any other man's similar wish is a misdemeanor. It is "approbation." Even smiling at the nod is a crime—it is "assent." Such is the threefold shadow of this constructive shade. But even that is not all. A man is held responsible for what he evinced no express or implied liking for: "it need not appear that the precise time, or place, or means advised, were used." Accordingly, he that "evinces an express liking," "is responsible for all that ensues upon its execution." He evinces his assent to the End and is legally responsible for any Means which any hearer thereof shall, at any time, or in any place, make use of to attain that end!

Gentlemen of the Jury, this charge is a quo warranto against all Freedom of Speech. But suppose it were good law, and suppose the Grand-Jury obedient to it, see how it would apply.

All who evinced an express liking, approbation, or assent to the rescue of Mr. Burns are guilty of a misdemeanor; if they "evinced an express liking" that he should be rescued by a miracle wrought by Almighty God,—and some did express "approbation" of that "means,"—they are indictable, guilty of a "misdemeanor;" "it need not appear that the precise time, or place, or means advised, were used!" If any colored woman during the wicked week—which was ten days long—prayed that God would deliver Anthony, as it is said his angel delivered Peter, or said "Amen" to such a prayer, she was "guilty of a misdemeanor;" to be indicted as a "principal."

So every man in Boston who, on that bad Friday, stood in the streets of Boston between Court Square and T Wharf, was "guilty of a misdemeanor," liable to a fine of three hundred dollars, and to jailing for twelve months. All who at Faneuil Hall stirred up the minds of the people in opposition to the fugitive slave bill; all who shouted, who clapped their hands at the words or the countenance of their favorites, or who expressed "approbation" by a whisper of "assent," are "guilty of a misdemeanor." The very women who stood for four days at the street corners, and hissed the infamous Slave-hunters and their coadjutors; they, too, ought to be punished by fine of three hundred dollars and imprisonment for a year! Well, there were fifteen thousand persons "assembled" "in the highway" of the city of Boston that day opposed to kidnapping; half the newspapers in the country towns of Massachusetts "evinced an express liking" for freedom, and opposed the kidnapping; they are all "guilty of a misdemeanor;" they are "Principals." Nay, the ministers all over the State, who preached that kidnapping was a sin; those who read brave words out of the Old Testament or the New; those who prayed that the victim might escape; they, likewise, were "guilty of a misdemeanor," liable to be fined three hundred dollars and jailed for twelve months.[194]

[Footnote 194: 2 Parker's Additional, 280.]

But where did Judge Curtis find his right to levy Ship-money, Tonnage, and Poundage on the tongues of men; where did he find his "law?" Surely not in the statute. When the bill was pending in 1790, suppose his construction of the statute had been declared to Congress—who would have voted for a law so monstrous? The statute lay in the Law-book for nearly seventy years, and nobody ever applied it to a case like this.

Gentlemen, I have shown you already how British judges in the time of the Jameses and Charleses perverted the law to the basest of purposes. I mentioned, amongst others, the work of Twysden and Kelyng and Jones. This is a case like those. Just now I spoke of the action of Chief Justice Parker who said it was not for the jury to judge whether a law were harsh or not; I showed how he charged the jury in the case of Bowen, and how the jury returned a verdict of "not guilty," thus setting his inhuman charge at nought.[195] But Judge Curtis, for his law, relies upon Judge Parker's charge. It is not a Statute made by the legislature that Judge Curtis relies on for his law; it is not a Custom of the Common law; it is not an Opinion of the Court solemnly pronounced after mature deliberation; it is only the charge of a single judge to a jury in a special case, and one which the jury disregarded even then!

[Footnote 195: See above, p. 112.]

But where did Judge Parker, an estimable man, find his law? Mr. Perez Morton, the Attorney-General, found it in Kelyng's Reports. In the case of Bowen only one authority is referred to for that odious principle on which the judge sought to hang him; that authority is taken from "9 Charles I.;" from the year 1634—the worst age of the Stuart tyranny! But even that authority was not a Statute law, not a Custom of the People, not the Opinion of a Court solemnly pronounced. It was the charge of a single judge—a charge to a jury, made by an inferior judge, of an inferior court, in a barbarous age, under a despotic king! Hearken to this,—from the volume of Kelyng's Reports.[196] "Memorandum, That my Brother Twysden shewed me a Report which he had of the Charge given by Justice Jones to the grand-jury at the King's Bench Barr, in Michaelmas Term, 9 Carl. I." Gentlemen of the Jury, that charge no more settled the law even in 1634, than Judge Sprague's charge telling the grand-jury to "obey both" the law of God and the law of man which is exactly opposite thereto, settled the law of the United States and the morality of the People. But yet that is all the law the government had to hang Bowen with. The jury made nothing of it.[197]

[Footnote 196: Page 52. See above, p. 112.]

[Footnote 197: Jones's "opinion" relates to a case of murder by the advice of an absent person, not at all to suicide by the advice of another, so it could not apply to the case of Bowen.]

But Kelyng's Reports are of no value as authority. Here is what Lord Campbell, now Chief Justice of the King's Bench, says of them and their author. I read it to you long ago. "I ought to mention that among his other vanities he had the ambition to be an author; and he compiled a folio volume of decisions in criminal laws, which are of no value whatever except to make us laugh at some of the silly egotisms with which they abound."[198] Twysden, who showed him the Report of the charge, is of little value, and of no authority. I mentioned his character before.

[Footnote 198: 2 Campbell's Justices, 406.]

Justice Jones, who made the charge, would hardly be an authority in the English courts in a nice question of construction. He allowed the king to levy ship-money, as I have shown before,[199] and dared not perform the duties of his office and so protect the Liberty of the Subject when the king smote thereat. He was brought before the House of Commons to answer for his conduct, in 1628. "His memory," says Echard, "suffers upon the account of his open judgment for the ship-money, the unhappy consequence of which he did not live to see."[200]

[Footnote 199: Above, p. 23.]

[Footnote 200: Parl. Hist. 290; 3 St. Tr. 844, 1181, 162; 2 Echard, 186.]

Judge Kelyng, the great authority in this case, was notorious for violating alike Justice and the law. Out of a riot committed by some apprentices he constructed the crime of High Treason, and sentenced thirteen men to death. He fined and imprisoned jurors because they refused to return the wicked, illegal verdict he demanded. With language too obscene to utter in this century, he mocked at the Great Charter of English Liberty. But at last the scandal was too great even for the reign of Charles II., and in 1667 the "Grand Committee of Justice" in the House of Commons, after examining witnesses and hearing him on his own behalf, reported:—

1. "That the proceedings of the Lord Chief Justice in the cases referred to us are innovations in the trial of men for their lives and liberties, and that he hath used an arbitrary and illegal power which is of dangerous consequence to the lives and liberties of the people of England."

2. "That in place of Judicature, the Lord Chief Justice hath undervalued, vilified, and condemned MAGNA CHARTA, the great preserver of our lives, freedom, and property."

3. "That the Lord Chief Justice be brought to trial, in order to condign punishment, in such manner as the House shall judge most fit and requisite."[201]

[Footnote 201: See above, p. 23, 39, 113, 125; 1 Campbell, Ibid. 406; 6 St. Tr. 76, 229, 171, 532, 769, 879, 992; Pepys' Diary, 17 Oct., 1667; Commons Journal, 16th Oct., 1667.]

Some of the lawyers whom he had browbeaten, generously interceded for him. He made an abject submission "with great humility and reverence," and the House desisted from prosecution. "He was abundantly tame for the rest of his days," says Lord Campbell, "fell into utter contempt," "and died to the great relief of all who had any regard for the due administration of justice."

Gentlemen, I am no lawyer, and may easily be mistaken in this matter, but as I studied Judge Curtis's charge and cast about for the sources of its doctrines and phraseology, I thought I traced them all back to Kelyng's opinions in that famous case, where he made treason out of a common riot among apprentices; and to Judge Chase's "opinions" and "rulings" in the trial of Mr. Fries,—opinions and rulings which shocked the public at the time, and brought legislative judgment on his head. Let any one compare the documents, I think he will find the whole of Curtis in those two impeached Judges, in Kelyng and in Chase.[202]

[Footnote 202: 1 Wharton, 636; Kelyng, 1-24, 70-77; 6 St. Tr. 879.]

Here then is the law,—derived from the memorandum of the charge to a grand-jury made in 1634, by a judge so corrupt that he did not hesitate to violate Magna Charta itself; not published till more than seventy years after the charge was given; cited as law by a single authority, and that authority impeached for unrighteously and corruptly violating the laws he was set and sworn to defend, impeached even in that age—of Charles II.;—that is the law! Once before an attempt was made to apply it in Massachusetts, and inflict capital punishment on a man for advising a condemned murderer to anticipate the hangman and die by his own hand in private—and the jury refused. But to such shifts is this Honorable Court reduced! Gentlemen of the Jury, the fugitive slave bill cannot be executed in Massachusetts, not in America, without reviving the worst despotism of the worst of the Stuarts; not without bringing Twysden and Jones and Kelyng on the Bench; no, not without Saunders and Finch, and Jeffreys and Scroggs!

Gentlemen, such was Judge Curtis's charge. I have been told it was what might have been expected from the general character and previous conduct of the man; but I confess it did surprise me: it was foolish as it was wicked and tyrannical. But it all came to nought.

For, alas! there was a grand-jury, and the Salmonean thunder of the fugitive slave bill judge fell harmless—quenched, conquered, disgraced, and brutal,—to the ground. Poor fugitive slave bill Court! It can only gnash its teeth against freedom of speech in Faneuil Hall; only bark and yelp against the unalienable rights of man, and howl against the Higher Law of God! it cannot bite! Poor, imbecile, malignant Court! What a pity that the fugitive slave bill judge was not himself the grand-jury, to order the indictment! what a shame that the attorney was not a petty jury to convict! Then New England, like Old, might have had her "bloody assizes," and Boston streets might have streamed with the heart's gore of noble men and women; and human heads might have decked the pinnacles all round the town; and Judge Curtis and Attorney Hallett might have had their place with Judge Jeffreys and John Boilman of old. What a pity that we have a grand-jury and a traverse jury to stand between the malignant arm of the Slave-hunter and the heart of you and me![203]

[Footnote 203: 2 Parker's Additional, p. 281.]

The grand-jury found no bill and were discharged. In a Fourth of July Sermon "Of the Dangers which Threaten the Rights of Man in America," I said:—

"Perhaps the Court will try again, and find a more pliant Grand-Jury, easier to intimidate. Let me suggest to the Court that the next time it should pack its Jury from the Marshal's 'Guard.' Then there will be Unity of Idea; of action too,—the Court a figure of equilibrium."

The audacious Grand-Jury was discharged. A new one was summoned; this time it was constructed out of the right material. Before that, Gentlemen, we had had the Judge or his kinsmen writing for the fugitive slave bill in the newspapers; getting up public meetings in behalf of man-stealing in Boston; writing letters in support of the same; procuring opinions in favor of the constitutionality of the fugitive slave bill; nay, kidnapping men and sending them into eternal bondage, and in the newspapers defending the act; but we had none of them in the Jury box. On the new Grand-Jury appeared Mr. William W. Greenough, the brother-in-law of Hon. Judge Curtis—each married a daughter of Mr. Charles P. Curtis. Mr. Greenough "was very active in his endeavors to procure an indictment" against me; and a bill was found.

How came the Brother-in-law of the Judge on the Grand-Jury summoned to punish men who spoke against kidnapping? Gentlemen of the Jury, I do not know. Of course it was done honestly; nobody suspects the Mayor of Boston of double-dealing, of intrigue, or of any indirection! Of course there was no improper influence used by the Marshal, or Mr. Curtis, or Mr. Hallett, who had all so much at stake; of course Mr. Greenough "did not wish to be on the Jury;" of course Judge Curtis "was very sorry he was there," and of course "all the family was sorry!" Of course "he went and asked Judge Sprague to excuse him, and the Judge wouldn't let him off!" Well, Gentlemen, I suppose it was a "miracle;" such a miracle as delivered the old or the new Shadrach; a "singular coincidence;" a "very remarkable fact." You will agree with me, Gentlemen, that it was a very remarkable FACT. In all the judicial tyranny I have related, we have not found a case before in which the judge had his brother on the Grand-Jury. Even Kelyng affords no precedent for that.

Last summer I met Mr. Greenough in a Bookstore and saluted him as usual; he made no return to my salutation, but doubled up his face and went out of the shop! That was the impartial Grand-Juror, who took the oath to "present no man for envy, hatred, or malice."

"After the impanelling of the new Grand-Jury,"—I am reading from a newspaper,[204] "Judge Curtis charged them in reference to their duties at considerable length. In regard to the Burns case he read the law of 1790 respecting opposition to the United States Marshals and their deputies while in discharge of their duty, enforcing the laws of the United States, and referred for further information as to the law upon the point to his charge delivered at a previous term of the Court, and now in the possession of the District Attorney." Thus he delegated the duty of expounding the law to a man who is not a judicial officer of the United States.

[Footnote 204: Evening Traveller, Oct. 16.]

Gentlemen of the Jury, look at the facts. I am indicted by a Grand-Jury summoned for that purpose after one Grand-Jury—which had been drawn before the kidnapping of Mr. Burns—had refused to find a bill; a member of the family which has been so distinguished for kidnapping ever since 1832, the Brother-in-law of the Judge, is made one of that Grand-Jury; he is so hostile and malignant as to refuse my friendly salutation when offered as usual; and on the jury is "most active of all in his efforts to procure an indictment," so that "but for his efforts," as one of the Grand-Jury informed me, "no bill would have been found that time;" and "it was obvious that an outside influence affected him." Out of court Mr. Hallett, it is said, jocosely offers to bet ten dollars that he "will get Mr. Parker indicted." I am to be tried before two judges deeply committed to the Slave Power, now fiercely invading our once free soil; they owe their appointment to their hostility against Freedom. Twenty years ago, in the Old Cradle of Liberty, Mr. Sprague could find for Washington no epithet so endearing as "THAT SLAVEHOLDER;" he defended Slavery with all his legal learning, all his personal might. Yes, when other weapons failed him he extemporized a new gospel, and into the mouth of Jesus of Nazareth,—who said, "Thou shalt love thy Neighbor as thyself," and pointed out the man who had "fallen among thieves" as neighbor to the Samaritan—he put this most unchristian precept, "SLAVES, OBEY YOUR MASTERS!" Nay, only four years ago, in this very Court, he charged the jury that if they thought there was a contradiction between the Law of God and the Statutes of men they must "obey both."

Gentlemen, the other judge, Mr. Curtis, began his career by asking the Supreme Court of Massachusetts to restore Slavery to Lexington and Bunker Hill; he demanded that our own Supreme Court should grant all that wickedness which Toombs and Hangman Foote, and Atchison and Stringfellow, and Grier and Kane have since sought to perpetuate! He denied the existence of any Law of God to control the Court, there is nothing but the Statutes of men; and declared "Slavery is not immoral;" Massachusetts may interfere actively to establish it abroad as well as at home. In Faneuil Hall, in a meeting which he and his kinsmen had gathered and controlled, a meeting to determine upon kidnapping the citizens of Boston, he charged me with perjury, asked a question, and did not dare listen to my reply! Gentlemen, it is a very proper Court to try me. A fugitive slave bill Court—with a fugitive slave bill Attorney, a fugitive slave bill Grand-Jury, two fugitive slave bill Judges—which scoffs at the natural law of the Infinite God, is a very suitable tribunal to try a Minister of the Christian religion for defending his own parishioners from being kidnapped, defending them with a word in Faneuil Hall!

"No tyranny so secure,—none so intolerable,—none so dangerous,—none so remediless, as that of Executive Courts." "This is a truth all nations bear witness to—all history confirms." These were the words of Josiah Quincy, Jr., in 1772.—Gentlemen, in 1855 you see how true they are! "So sensible are all tyrants of the importance of such courts—that to advance and establish their system of oppression, they never rest until they have completely corrupted or bought the judges of the land. I could easily show that the most deep laid and daring attacks upon the rights of a people might, in some measure, be defeated, or evaded by upright judicatories; bad laws with good judges make little progress."[205]

[Footnote 205: Quincy's Quincy, 68.]

But Gentlemen,—when the fugitive slave bill is "law," when the judges are selected for their love of Slavery and their hatred of freedom—men who invent Scripture to justify bondage, or who as Lawyers beseech the courts to establish Slavery in Massachusetts; who declare it is not immoral, that it may be the duty of Massachusetts to interfere actively and establish slavery abroad, nay, that there is no morality but only legality, the statute the only standard of right and wrong—what are you to expect? What you see in Philadelphia, New York; aye, in Boston at this hour. I will add with Mr. Quincy, "Is it possible this should not rouse us and drive us not to desperation but to our duty! The blind may see; the callous must feel; the spirited will act."[206]

[Footnote 206: Gazette, Feb. 10, 1772.]

It would be just as easy for the Judge to make out divers other crimes from my words, as to construct a misdemeanor therefrom. To charge me with "treason," he has only to vary a few words and phrases; to cite Chase, and not Judge Parker, and to refer to other passages of Kelyng's Reports. James II.'s judges declared it was treason in the seven Bishops to offer their petition to the King. Mr. Webster said, it is only the "clemency of the Government which indicted the Syracuse rescuers for misdemeanors and not for a capital crime!" How easy for a fugitive slave bill judge to hang men for a word against his brother kidnapper—if there were no jury; if, like the New York sheriff in 1735, he could order "his own negro" to do it! Here is a remarkable case of constructive crime, worthy of this Honorable Court. It is the famous case of Dux v. Conrade et Boracio. Honorable Judge Dogberry thus delivered his charge to the Grand Inquest, "Masters, I charge you accuse these men,"—one policeman testified that Conrade said "that Don John, the prince's Brother, was a villain." Judge Dogberry ruled, "This is flat perjury to call a prince's Brother, villain." The next member of the Marshal's guard deposed that Boracio had said, "That he had received a thousand ducats of Don John for accusing the Lady Hero wrongfully." Chief Justice Dogberry decided, "Flat Burglary as ever was committed." Sentence accordingly.[207]

[Footnote 207: 2 Singer's Shakspeare, 192.]

* * * * *

Gentlemen, the indictment is so roomy and vague, that before I came into court, I did not know what special acts of mine would be brought up against me—for to follow out the Judge's charge, all my life is a series of constructive misdemeanors. Nay, I think my mother—the violet has bloomed over that venerable and well-beloved head for more than thirty summers now—I think my mother might be indicted for constructive treason, only for bearing me, her youngest son. Certainly, it was "obstructing an officer," and in "misdemeanors all are principals." I have committed a great many misdemeanors; all my teachings evince an express liking for Piety, for Justice, for Liberty; all my life is obstructing, opposing, and resisting the fugitive slave bill Court, its Commissioners, its Judges, its Marshals and its Marshal's guard. Gentlemen of the jury, you are to judge me. Look at some of my actions and some of my words.

In 1850, on the 25th of March, a fortnight after Mr. Webster made his speech against Humanity, there was a meeting of the citizens of Boston, at Faneuil Hall; Gentlemen, I helped procure the meeting. First, I tried to induce the leading Whigs to assemble the people. No, that could not be done; "the Bill would not pass, there was no danger!" Then I tried the leading Free Soilers; "No, it was not quite time, and we are not strong enough." At last the old abolitionists came together. Mr. Phillips made a magnificent speech. Here are some things which I also said.

"There were three fugitives at my house the other night. Ellen Craft was one of them. You all know Ellen Craft is a slave; she, with her husband, fled from Georgia to Philadelphia, and is here before us now. She is not so dark as Mr. Webster himself, if any of you think freedom is to be dealt out in proportion to the whiteness of the skin. If Mason's bill passes, I might have some miserable postmaster from Texas or the District of Columbia, some purchased agent of Messrs. Bruin & Hill, the great slave-dealers of the Capital, have him here in Boston, take Ellen Craft before the caitiff, and on his decision hurry her off to bondage as cheerless, as hopeless, and as irremediable as the grave!

"Let me interest you in a scene which might happen. Suppose a poor fugitive, wrongfully held as a slave—let it be Ellen Craft—has escaped from Savannah in some northern ship. No one knows of her presence on board; she has lain with the cargo in the hold of the vessel. Harder things have happened. Men have journeyed hundreds of miles bent double in a box half the size of a coffin, journeying towards freedom. Suppose the ship comes up to Long Wharf, at the foot of State Street. Bulk is broken to remove the cargo; the woman escapes, emaciated with hunger, feeble from long confinement in a ship's hold, sick with the tossing of the heedless sea, and still further etiolated and blanched with the mingling emotions of hope and fear. She escapes to land. But her pursuer, more remorseless than the sea, has been here beforehand; laid his case before the official he has brought with him, or purchased here, and claims his slave. She runs for her life, fear adding wings. Imagine the scene—the flight, the hot pursuit through State Street, Merchants' Row—your magistrates in hot pursuit. To make the irony of nature still more complete, let us suppose this shall take place on some of the memorable days in the history of America—on the 19th of April, when our fathers first laid down their lives 'in the sacred cause of God and their country;' on the 17th of June, the 22d of December, or on any of the sacramental days in the long sad history of our struggle for our own freedom! Suppose the weary fugitive takes refuge in Faneuil Hall, and here, in the old Cradle of Liberty, in the midst of its associations, under the eye of Samuel Adams, the bloodhounds seize their prey! Imagine Mr. Webster and Mr. Winthrop looking on, cheering the slave-hunter, intercepting the fugitive fleeing for her life. Would not that be a pretty spectacle?

"Propose to support that bill to the fullest extent, with all its provisions! Ridiculous talk! Does Mr. Webster suppose that such a law could be executed in Boston? that the people of Massachusetts will ever return a single fugitive slave, under such an act as that? Then he knows his constituents very little, and proves that he needs 'Instruction.'

"Perpetuate Slavery, we cannot do it. Nothing will save it. It is girt about by a ring of fire which daily grows narrower, and sends terrible sparkles into the very centre of the shameful thing. 'Joint resolutions' cannot save it; annexations cannot save it—not if we reannex all the West Indies; delinquent representatives cannot save it; uninstructed senators, refusing instructions, cannot save it, no, not with all their logic, all their eloquence, which smites as an earthquake smites the sea. No, slavery cannot be saved; by no compromise, no non-intervention, no Mason's Bill in the Senate. It cannot be saved in this age of the world until you nullify every ordinance of nature, until you repeal the will of God, and dissolve the union He has made between righteousness and the welfare of a people. Then, when you displace God from the throne of the world, and instead of His eternal justice, reenact the will of the Devil, then you may keep Slavery; keep it for ever, keep it in peace. Not till then.

"The question is, not if slavery is to cease, and soon to cease, but shall it end as it ended in Massachusetts, in New Hampshire, in Pennsylvania, in New York; or shall it end as in St. Domingo? Follow the counsel of Mr. Webster—it will end in fire and blood. God forgive us for our cowardice, if we let it come to this, that three millions or thirty millions of degraded human beings, degraded by us, must wade through slaughter to their unalienable rights."[208]

[Footnote 208: 2 Occasional Speeches, 164, 165, and 172.]

Gentlemen, that speech was a "seditious libel" by construction!

On the 29th of May, I spoke at the New England Anti-Slavery Convention, and said:—

"Let us not be deceived about the real question at issue. It is not merely whether we shall return fugitive slaves without trial by jury. We will not return them with trial by jury! neither 'with alacrity,' nor with the 'solemnity of judicial proceedings!' It is not merely whether slavery shall be extended or not. By and by there will be a political party with a wider basis than the free soil party, who will declare that the nation itself must put an end to slavery in the nation; and if the Constitution of the United States will not allow it, there is another Constitution that will. Then the title, Defender and expounder of the Constitution of the United States, will give way to this,—'Defender and expounder of the Constitution of the Universe,' and we shall reaffirm the ordinance of nature, and reenact the will of God. You may not live to see it, Mr. President, nor I live to see it; but it is written on the iron leaf that it must come; come, too, before long. Then the speech of Mr. Webster, and the defence thereof by Mr. Stuart, the letter of the retainers and the letters of the retained, will be a curiosity; the conduct of the whigs and democrats an amazement, and the peculiar institution a proverb amongst all the nations of the earth. In the turmoil of party politics, and of personal controversy, let us not forget continually to move the previous question, whether Freedom or Slavery is to prevail in America. There is no attribute of God which is not on our side; because, in this matter, we are on the side of God."[209]

[Footnote 209: Ibid., 207, 208.]

After the death of General Taylor on the 14th of July, I lifted up my voice in a funeral sermon thus:—

"If he could speak to us from his present position, methinks he would say: Countrymen and friends! You see how little it availed you to agitate the land and put a little man in a great place. It is not the hurrah of parties that will 'save the Union,' it is not 'great men.' It is only Justice. Remember that Atheism is not the first principle of a Republic; remember there is a law of God, the higher law of the universe, the Everlasting Right: I thought so once, and now I know it. Remember that you are accountable to God for all things; that you owe justice to all men, the black not less than the white; that God will demand it of you, proud, wicked nation, careful only of your gold, forgetful of God's high law! Before long each of you shall also come up before the Eternal. Then and there it will not avail you to have compromised truth, justice, love, but to have kept them. Righteousness only is the salvation of a State; that only of a man."[210]

[Footnote 210: 2 Occasional Sermons, 239, 240.]

All that was before the bill passed, but how easy it would be for Judge Jeffreys or Judge Curtis, Judge Sprague or Judge Scroggs, to construct it into a "misdemeanor," "resisting an officer!"

After the fugitive slave bill passed, on the 22d of September, 1850, not forty-eight hours after the Judge's friends had fired their jubilant cannon at the prospect of kidnapping the men who wait upon their tables, I preached a "Sermon of the Function and Place of Conscience in relation to the Laws of Man, a sermon for the times." I said this:—

"If a man falls into the water and is in danger of drowning, it is the natural duty of the bystanders to aid in pulling him out, even at the risk of wetting their garments. We should think a man a coward who could swim, and would not save a drowning girl for fear of spoiling his coat. He would be indictable at common law. If a troop of wolves or tigers were about to seize a man, and devour him, and you and I could help him, it would be our duty to do so, even to peril our own limbs and life for that purpose. If a man undertakes to murder or steal a man, it is the duty of the bystanders to help their brother, who is in peril, against wrong from the two-legged man, as much as against the four-legged beast. But suppose the invader who seizes the man is an officer of the United States, has a commission in his pocket, a warrant for his deed in his hand, and seizes as a slave a man who has done nothing to alienate his natural rights—does that give him any more natural right to enslave a man than he had before? Can any piece of parchment make right wrong, and wrong right?

"The fugitive has been a slave before: does the wrong you committed yesterday, give you a natural right to commit wrong afresh and continually? Because you enslaved this man's father, have you a natural right to enslave his child? The same right you would have to murder a man because you butchered his father first. The right to murder is as much transmissible by inheritance as the right to enslave! It is plain to me that it is the natural duty of citizens to rescue every fugitive slave from the hands of the marshal who essays to return him to bondage; to do it peaceably if they can, forcibly if they must, but by all means to do it. Will you stand by and see your countrymen, your fellow-citizens of Boston, sent off to slavery by some commissioner? Shall I see my own parishioners taken from under my eyes and carried back to bondage, by a man whose constitutional business it is to work wickedness by statute? Shall I never lift an arm to protect him? When I consent to that, you may call me a hireling shepherd, an infidel, a wolf in sheep's clothing, even a defender of slave-catching if you will; and I will confess I was a poor dumb dog, barking always at the moon, but silent as the moon when the murderer comes near.

"I am not a man who loves violence. I respect the sacredness of human life. But this I say, solemnly, that I will do all in my power to rescue any fugitive slave from the hands of any officer who attempts to return him to bondage. I will resist him as gently as I know how, but with such strength as I can command; I will ring the bells, and alarm the town; I will serve as head, as foot, or as hand to any body of serious and earnest men, who will go with me, with no weapons but their hands, in this work. I will do it as readily as I would lift a man out of the water, or pluck him from the teeth of a wolf, or snatch him from the hands of a murderer. What is a fine of a thousand dollars, and jailing for six months, to the liberty of a man? My money perish with me, if it stand between me and the eternal law of God. I trust there are manly men enough in this house to secure the freedom of every fugitive slave in Boston, without breaking a limb or rending a garment.

"One thing more I think is very plain, that the fugitive has the same natural right to defend himself against the slave-catcher, or his constitutional tool, that he has against a murderer or a wolf. The man who attacks me to reduce me to slavery, in that moment of attack alienates his right to life, and if I were the fugitive, and could escape in no other way, I would kill him with as little compunction as I would drive a mosquito from my face. It is high time this was said. What grasshoppers we are before the statute of men! what Goliaths against the law of God! What capitalist heeds your statute of usury when he can get illegal interest? How many banks are content with six per cent. when money is scarce? Did you never hear of a merchant evading the duties of the custom-house? When a man's liberty is concerned, we must keep the law, must we? betray the wanderer, and expose the outcast?"[211]

[Footnote 211: 2 Occasional Sermons, 256, 257, 258.]

Gentlemen, you know what Mr. Commissioner Hallett said of such language, said at the Union Meeting in Faneuil Hall.[212] He was only fugitive slave bill commissioner then; in consequence of his denial of the Higher Law of God he is now fugitive slave bill Attorney. You know what Mr. Curtis said of the Sermon; now, in consequence he is Judge Curtis—the fugitive slave bill Judge.

[Footnote 212: See above, p. 149.]

On the 14th of October there was another meeting at Faneuil Hall—the Freesoilers came that time. The old flame of Liberty burnt anew in Charles Francis Adams, who presided. Perhaps some of you remember the prayer of the venerable Dr. Lowell which lifted up our souls to the "Father of all men!" I proposed the appointment of a "Committee of Vigilance and Safety to take such measures as they shall deem just and expedient to protect the colored people of this city in the enjoyment of their lives and liberties." I was appointed one of the Committee, and subsequently Chairman of the Executive Committee of the Vigilance Committee; a very responsible office, Gentlemen. At that meeting I told of a fugitive from Boston, who that day had telegraphed to his wife here, asking if it was safe for him to come back from Canada. I asked the meeting, "Will you let him come back; how many will defend him to the worst?" "Here a hand vote was taken," said the newspapers, "a forest of hands was held up." Surely that was "evincing an express liking" for an obstruction of the kidnappers. But did it violate the law of 1790?

All this you might easily have known before. Here is something you did not know. That Meeting, its Resolutions, its Speeches, its Action, were brought up in the cabinet of the United States and discussed. Mr. Webster, then Secretary of State, wished to have Mr. Adams, president of the meeting, presented to the grand-jury and indicted for treason! But the majority thought otherwise.

Gentlemen, when the kidnappers came to Boston I did some things of which this court has not taken notice, and so I will not speak of them now, but only tell your grandchildren of, if I live long enough. Others did more and better than I could do, however. In due time they will have their reward. One thing let me say now. When the two brothers Curtis, with their kinsfolk and coadjutors, were seeking to kidnap the Crafts, I took Ellen to my own house, and kept her there so long as the (Southern) kidnappers remained in the city. For the first time I armed myself, and put my house in a state of defence. For two weeks I wrote my sermons with a sword in the open drawer under my inkstand, and a pistol in the flap of the desk, loaded, ready, with a cap on the nipple. Commissioner Curtis said "a process was in the hands of the marshal ..." in the execution of which, he might be called upon to break open dwelling-houses, and perhaps to take life, by quelling resistance actual or "threatened." I was ready for him. I knew my rights.

I went also and looked after William Craft. I inspected his weapons; "his powder had a good kernel, and he kept it dry; his pistols were of excellent proof; the barrels true, and clean, the trigger went easy, the caps would not hang fire at the snap. I tested his poignard; the blade had a good temper, stiff enough and yet springy withal; the point was sharp."[213] After the immediate danger was over and Knight and Hughes had avoided the city, where they had received such welcome from the friends of this Court, such was the tone of the political newspapers and the commercial pulpit that William and Ellen must needs flee from America. Long made one by the wedlock of mutual and plighted faith, their marriage in Georgia was yet "null and void" by the laws of that "Christian State." I married them according to the law of Massachusetts. As a symbol of the husband's peculiar responsibility under such circumstances, I gave William a Sword—it lay on the table in the house of another fugitive, where the wedding took place—and told him of his manly duty therewith, if need were, to defend the life and liberty of Ellen. I gave them both a Bible, which I had bought for the purpose, to be a symbol of their spiritual culture and a help for their soul, as the sword was for their bodily life. "With this sword I thee wed," suited the circumstances of that bridal.

[Footnote 213: 1 Parker's Additional Speeches, 55.]

Mr. and Mrs. Craft were parishioners of mine, and besides I have been appointed "minister at large in behalf of all fugitive slaves in Boston." I have helped join men and women in wedlock according to the customs of various sects and nations. There is one wedlock, a sacrament, but many forms. Never before did I marry two lovers with the Sword and the Bible—the form of matrimony for fugitive slaves: out of that fact perhaps Mr. Attorney can frame an indictment that will hold water. "If it only resists law and obstructs its officers," quoth he, "it is treason, and he who risks it must risk hanging for it!"

At the great Union meeting, November 26, when Mr. Curtis said "I should like to ask the Reverend Gentleman in what capacity he expects to be punished for his perjury," I said, "Do you want an answer to your question, Sir?" No doubt that was obstructing a (prospective) "officer," then preparing for process. How easily could Scroggs make a "misdemeanor," or "a seditious libel," out of that question! Allybone would call it "treason," "levying war."

Thirty-six hours after the Union meeting, on Thanksgiving day, 28th November, 1850, in a "Sermon of the State of the Nation," I said:—

"I have sometimes been amazed at the talk of men who call on us to keep the fugitive slave law, one of the most odious laws in a world of odious laws—a law not fit to be made or kept. I have been amazed that they should dare to tell us the law of God, writ on the heavens and our hearts, never demanded we should disobey the laws of men! Well, suppose it were so. Then it was old Daniel's duty at Darius' command to give up his prayer; but he prayed three times a day, with his windows up. Then it was John's and Peter's duty to forbear to preach of Christianity; but they said, 'Whether it be right in the sight of God to hearken unto you more than unto God, judge ye.' Then it was the duty of Amram and Jochebed to take up their new-born Moses and cast him into the Nile, for the law of king Pharaoh, commanding it, was 'constitutional,' and 'political agitation' was discountenanced as much in Goshen as in Boston. But Daniel did not obey; John and Peter did not fail to preach Christianity; and Amram and Jochebed refused 'passive obedience' to the king's decree! I think it will take a strong man all this winter to reverse the judgment which the world has passed on these three cases. But it is 'innocent' to try.

"However, there is another ancient case, mentioned in the Bible, in which the laws commanded one thing and conscience just the opposite. Here the record of the law:—'Now both the chief priests and the Pharisees had given a commandment, that if any one knew where he [Jesus] were, he should show it, that they might take him.' Of course, it became the official and legal business of each disciple who knew where Christ was, to make it known to the authorities. No doubt James and John could leave all and follow him, with others of the people who knew not the law of Moses, and were accursed; nay, the women, Martha and Mary, could minister unto him of their substance, could wash his feet with their tears, and wipe them with the hairs of their head. They did it gladly, of their own free will, and took pleasure therein, I make no doubt. There was no merit in that—'Any man can perform an agreeable duty.' But there was found one disciple who could 'perform a disagreeable duty.' He went, perhaps 'with alacrity,' and betrayed his Saviour to the marshal of the district of Jerusalem, who was called a centurion. Had he no affection for Jesus? No doubt; but he could conquer his prejudices, while Mary and John could not.

"Judas Iscariot has rather a bad name in the Christian world: he is called 'The son of perdition,' in the New Testament, and his conduct is reckoned a 'transgression;' nay, it is said the devil 'entered into him,' to cause this hideous sin. But all this it seems was a mistake; certainly, if we are to believe our 'republican' lawyers and statesmen, Iscariot only fulfilled his 'constitutional obligations.' It was only 'on that point,' of betraying his Saviour, that the constitutional law required him to have any thing to do with Jesus. He took his 'thirty pieces of silver'—about fifteen dollars; a Yankee is to do it for ten, having fewer prejudices to conquer—it was his legal fee, for value received. True, the Christians thought it was 'The wages of iniquity,' and even the Pharisees—who commonly made the commandment of God of none effect by their traditions—dared not defile the temple with this 'price of blood;' but it was honest money. Yes, it was as honest a fee as any American commissioner or deputy will ever get for a similar service. How mistaken we are! Judas Iscariot is not a traitor! he was a great patriot; he conquered his 'prejudices,' performed 'a disagreeable duty,' as an office of 'high morals and high principle;' he kept the 'law' and the 'Constitution,' and did all he could to 'save the Union;' nay, he was a saint, 'not a whit behind the very chiefest apostles.' 'The law of God never commands us to disobey the law of man.' Sancte Iscariote ora pro nobis.

"Talk of keeping the fugitive slave law! Come, come, we know better. Men in New England know better than this. We know that we ought not to keep a wicked law, and that it must not be kept when the law of God forbids!

"One of the most awful spectacles I ever saw, was this: A vast multitude attempting, at an orator's suggestion [Hon. Mr. Hallett], to howl down the 'Higher law,' and when he said, Will you have this to rule over you? they answered, 'Never!' and treated the 'Higher law' to a laugh and a howl! It was done in Faneuil Hall; under the eyes of the three Adamses, Hancock, and Washington; and the howl rung round the venerable arches of that hall! I could not but ask, 'Why do the heathen rage, and the people imagine a vain thing? the rulers of the earth set themselves, and kings take counsel against the Lord and say, Let us break his bands asunder, and cast off his yoke from us.' Then I could not but remember that it was written, 'He that sitteth in the heavens shall laugh; the Lord shall have them in derision.' 'He taketh up the isles as a very little thing, and the inhabitants of the earth are as grasshoppers before Him.' Howl down the law of God at a magistrate's command! Do this in Boston! Let us remember this—but with charity."

"I do not believe there is more than one of the New England men who publicly helped the law into being, but would violate its provisions; conceal a fugitive; share his loaf with a runaway; furnish him golden wings to fly with. Nay, I think it would be difficult to find a magistrate in New England, willing to take the public odium of doing the official duty. I believe it is not possible to find a regular jury, who will punish a man for harboring a slave, for helping his escape, or fine a marshal or commissioner for being a little slow to catch a slave. Men will talk loud in public meetings, but they have some conscience after all, at home. And though they howl down the 'Higher law' in a crowd, yet conscience will make cowards of them all, when they come to lay hands on a Christian man, more innocent than they, and send him into slavery for ever! One of the commissioners of Boston talked loud and long, last Tuesday, in favor of keeping the law. When he read his litany against the law of God, and asked if men would keep the 'Higher law,' and got 'Never' as the welcome, and amen for response—it seemed as if the law might be kept, at least by that commissioner, and such as gave the responses to his creed. But slave-hunting Mr. Hughes, who came here for two of our fellow-worshippers, in his Georgia newspaper, tells a different story. Here it is from the 'Georgia Telegraph,' of last Friday. 'I called at eleven o'clock at night, at his [the commissioner's] residence, and stated to him my business, and asked him for a warrant, saying that if I could get a warrant, I could have the negroes [William and Ellen Craft] arrested. He said the law did not authorize a warrant to be issued: that it was my duty to go and arrest the negro without a warrant, and bring him before him!' This is more than I expected. 'Is Saul among the prophets?' The men who tell us that the law must be kept, God willing, or against His will—there are Puritan fathers behind them also; Bibles in their houses; a Christ crucified, whom they think of; and a God even in their world, who slumbers not, neither is weary, and is as little a respecter of parchments as of persons! They know there is a people, as well as politicians, a posterity not yet assembled, and they would not like to have certain words writ on their tomb-stone. 'Traitor to the rights of mankind,' is no pleasant epitaph. They, too, remember there is a day after to-day; aye, a forever; and 'Inasmuch as ye have not done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have not done it unto me,' is a sentence they would not like to hear at the day of judgment."[214]

[Footnote 214: 2 Parker's Occasional Sermons, pp. 298-300, 301, 302, 304, 305.]

Gentlemen, you see by the faces of this Honorable Court, and you know by what these honorable functionaries and their coadjutors have done out of its limit, how much I was mistaken in the notion that no Boston Commissioner would ever kidnap a man! Perhaps you will pardon me for the mistake. I will soon explain it by a quotation.

After the rescue of Shadrach, in my Sunday prayer I publicly gave God the thanks of the congregation for the noble deed. Perhaps that was a crime. I think Judge Saunders could make it appear that I was an "accessory after the fact," and then Judge Curtis could call the offence not a felony but a "misdemeanor," and "in misdemeanors all are principals." Nay, it might be "levying war" "with force and arms."

After the Hon. Judge Sprague had made himself glorious by charging the jury "to obey both" the will of God and the laws of men, which forbid that will; and after Commissioner Curtis had kidnapped Mr. Sims, while he still had him in his unlawful jail, on Fast-day, April 10, 1851, I preached a sermon "of the Chief Sins of the People," and said,—

"He [Judge Sprague] supposes a case: that the people ask him, 'Which shall we obey, the law of man or the will of God?' He says, 'I answer, obey both. The incompatibility which the question assumes does not exist.'

"So, then, here is a great general rule, that between the 'law of man' and the 'will of God' there is no incompatibility, and we must 'obey both.' Now let us see how this rule will work.

"If I am rightly informed, King Ahab made a law that all the Hebrews should serve Baal, and it was the will of God that they should serve the Lord. According to this rule of the judge, they must 'obey both.' But if they served Baal, they could not serve the Lord. In such a case, 'what is to be done?' We are told that Elijah gathered the prophets together: 'and he came unto all the people, and said, How long halt ye? If the Lord be God, follow him; but if Baal, then follow him.' Our modern prophet says, 'Obey both. The incompatibility which the question assumes does not exist.' Such is the difference between Judge Elijah and Judge Peleg.

"Let us see how this rule will work in other cases; how you can make a compromise between two opposite doctrines. The king of Egypt commanded the Hebrew nurses, 'When you do the office of a midwife to the Hebrew women, if it be a son ye shall kill him.' I suppose it is plain to the Judge of the Circuit Court that this kind of murder, killing the new-born infants, is against 'the will of God;' but it is a matter of record that it was according to 'the law of man.' Suppose the Hebrew nurses had come to ask Judge Sprague for his advice. He must have said, 'Obey both!' His rule is a universal one.

"Another decree was once made, as it is said in the Old Testament, that no man should ask any petition of any God for thirty days, save of the king, on penalty of being cast into the den of lions. Suppose Daniel—I mean the old Daniel, the prophet—should have asked him, What is to be done? Should he pray to Darius or pray to God? 'Obey both!' would be the answer. But he cannot, for he is forbid to pray to God. We know what Daniel did do.

"The elders and scribes of Jerusalem commanded the Christians not to speak or to teach at all in the name of Jesus; but Peter and John asked those functionaries, 'Whether it be right in the sight of God to hearken unto you more than unto God, judge ye.' Our judge must have said, There is no 'incompatibility;' 'obey both!' What 'a comfortable Scripture' this would have been to poor John Bunyan! What a great ethical doctrine to St. Paul! He did not know such Christianity as that. Before his time a certain man had said, 'No man can serve two masters.' But there was one person who made the attempt, and he also is eminent in history. Here was 'the will of God,' to do to others as you would have others do to you: 'Love thy neighbor as thyself.' Here is the record of 'the law of man:' 'Now both the chief priests and the Pharisees had given a commandment, that, if any man knew where he [Jesus] were, he should show it that they might take him.' Judas, it seems, determined to 'obey both,'—'the law of man' and 'the will of God.' So he sat with Jesus at the Last Supper, dipped his hand in the same dish, and took a morsel from the hand of Christ, given him in token of love. All this he did to obey 'the will of God.' Then he went and informed the Commissioner or Marshal where Jesus was. This he did to obey 'the law of man.' Then he came back, and found Christ,—the agony all over, the bloody sweat wiped off from his brow presently to bleed again,—the Angel of Strength there with him to comfort him. He was arousing his sleeping disciples for the last time, and was telling them, 'Pray, lest ye enter into temptation.' Judas came and gave him a kiss. To the eleven it seemed the friendly kiss, obeying 'the will of God.' To the Marshal it also seemed a friendly kiss,—obeying 'the law of man.' So, in the same act, he obeys 'the law of God' and 'the will of man,' and there is no 'incompatibility!'

"Of old it was said, 'Thou canst not serve God and mammon.' He that said it, has been thought to know something of morals,—something of religion.

"Till the fugitive slave law was passed, we did not know what a great saint Iscariot was. I think there ought to be a chapel for him, and a day set apart in the calendar. Let him have his chapel in the navy yard at Washington. He has got a priest there already. And for a day in the calendar—set apart for all time the seventh of March!"

"Last Thanksgiving day, I said it would be difficult to find a magistrate in Boston to take the odium of sending a fugitive back to slavery. I believed, after all, men had some conscience, although they talked about its being a duty to deliver up a man to bondage. Pardon me, my country, that I rated you too high! Pardon me, town of Boston, that I thought your citizens all men! Pardon me, lawyers, that I thought you had been all born of mothers! Pardon me, ruffians, who kill for hire! I thought you had some animal mercy left, even in your bosom! Pardon me, United States' commissioners, marshals, and the like, I thought you all had some shame! Pardon me, my hearers, for such mistakes. One commissioner was found to furnish the warrant [Mr. George T. Curtis]! Pardon me, I did not know he was a commissioner; if I had, I never would have said it!

"Spirits of tyrants, I look down to you! Shade of Cain, you great first murderer, forgive me that I forgot your power, and did not remember that you were parent of so long a line! And you, my brethren, if hereafter I tell you that there is any limit of meanness or wickedness which a Yankee will not jump over, distrust me, and remind me of this day, and I will take it back!

"Let us look at the public conduct of any commissioner who will send an innocent man from Boston into slavery. I would speak of all men charitably; for I know how easy it is to err, yea, to sin. I can look charitably on thieves, prowling about in darkness; on rum-sellers, whom poverty compels to crime; on harlots, who do the deed of shame that holy woman's soul abhors and revolts at; I can pity the pirate, who scours the seas doing his fiendish crimes—he is tempted, made desperate by a gradual training in wickedness. The man, born at the South, owning slaves, who goes to Africa and sells adulterated rum in exchange for men to retail at Cuba,—I cannot understand the consciousness of such a man; yet I can admit that by birth and by breeding he has become so imbruted he knows no better. Nay, even that he may perhaps justify his conduct to himself. I say I think his sin is not so dreadful as that of a commissioner in Boston who sends a man into slavery. A man commits a murder, inflamed by jealousy, goaded by desire of great gain, excited by fear, stung by malice, or poisoned by revenge, and it is a horrid thing. But to send a man into slavery is worse than to murder him. I should rather be slain than enslaved. To do this, inflamed by no jealousy, goaded by no desire of great gain,—only ten dollars!—excited by no fear, stung by no special malice, poisoned by no revenge,—I cannot comprehend that in any man, not even in a hyena. Beasts that raven for blood do not kill for killing's sake, but to feed their flesh. Forgive me, O ye wolves and hyenas! that I bring you into such company. I can only understand it in a devil!

"When a man bred in Massachusetts, whose Constitution declares that 'All men are born free and equal;' within sight of Faneuil Hall, with all its sacred memories; within two hours of Plymouth Rock; within a single hour of Concord and Lexington; in sight of Bunker Hill,—when he will do such a deed, it seems to me that there is no life of crime long enough to prepare a man for such a pitch of depravity; I should think he must have been begotten in sin, and conceived in iniquity, and been born 'with a dog's head on his shoulders;' that the concentration of the villany of whole generations of scoundrels would hardly be enough to fit a man for a deed like this!"

"Last Thursday night,—when odious beasts of prey, that dare not face the light of heaven, prowl through the woods,—those ruffians of the law seized on their brother man. They lie to the bystanders, and seize him on a false pretence. There is their victim—they hold him fast. His faithless knife breaks in his hand; his coat is rent to pieces. He is the slave of Boston. Can you understand his feelings? Let us pass by that. His 'trial!' Shall I speak of that? He has been five days on trial for more than life, and has not seen a judge! A jury? No,—only a commissioner! O justice! O republican America! Is this the liberty of Massachusetts?

"Where shall I find a parallel with men who will do such a deed,—do it in Boston? I will open the tombs, and bring up most hideous tyrants from the dead. Come, brood of monsters, let me bring you up from the deep damnation of the graves wherein your hated memories continue for all time their never-ending rot. Come, birds of evil omen! come, ravens, vultures, carrion-crows, and see the spectacle! come, see the meeting of congenial souls! I will disturb, disquiet, and bring up the greatest monsters of the human race! Tremble not, women; tremble not, children; tremble not, men! They are all dead! They cannot harm you now! Fear the living, not the dead!

"Come hither, Herod the wicked! Thou that didst seek after that young child's life, and destroyed the Innocents! Let me look on thy face! No; go! Thou wert a heathen! Go, lie with the Innocents thou hast massacred. Thou art too good for this company!

"Come, Nero! Thou awful Roman Emperor! Come up! No; thou wast drunk with power! schooled in Roman depravity. Thou hadst, besides, the example of thy fancied gods! Go, wait another day. I will seek a worser man.

"Come hither, St. Dominic! come, Torquemada!—Fathers of the Inquisition! Merciless monsters, seek your equal here! No; pass by! You are no companions for such men as these! You were the servants of atheistic popes, of cruel kings. Go to, and get you gone. Another time I may have work for you,—not now; lie there and persevere to rot. You are not yet quite wicked and corrupt enough for this comparison. Go, get ye gone, lest the sun turn back at sight of ye!

"Come up, thou heap of wickedness, George Jeffreys!—thy hands deep purple with the blood of thy murdered fellow men! Ah, I know thee! awful and accursed shade! Two hundred years after thy death, men hate thee still, not without cause! Let me look upon thee! I know thy history. Pause and be still, while I tell it to these men.

"Brothers, George Jeffreys 'began in the sedition line.' 'There was no act, however bad, that he would not resort to to get on.' 'He was of a bold aspect, and cared not for the countenance of any man.' 'He became the avowed, unblushing slave of the court, and the bitter persecutor and unappeasable enemy of the principles he had before supported.' 'He was universally insolent and overbearing.' 'As a judge, he did not consider the decencies of his post, nor did he so much as affect to be impartial, as became a judge.' His face and voice were always unamiable. 'All tenderness for the feelings of others, all self-respect were obliterated from his mind.' He had 'a delight in misery, merely as misery,' and 'that temper which tyrants require in their worst instruments.' 'He made haste to sell his forehead of brass and his tongue of venom to the court.' He had 'more impudence than ten carted street-walkers;' and was appropriately set to a work 'which could be trusted to no man who reverenced law, or who was sensible of shame.' He was a 'Commissioner' in 1685. You know of the 'Bloody assizes' which he held, and how he sent to execution three hundred and twenty persons in a single circuit. 'The whole country was strewed with the heads and limbs of his victims.' Yet a man wrote that 'A little more hemp might have been usefully employed.' He was the worst of the English judges. 'There was no measure, however illegal, to the execution of which he did not devotedly and recklessly abandon himself.' 'During the Stuart reigns, England was cursed by a succession of ruffians in ermine, who, for the sake of court favor, wrested the principles of law, the precepts of religion, and the duties of humanity; but they were all greatly outstripped by Jeffreys.' Such is his history.

"Come, shade of a judicial butcher! Two hundred years thy name has been pilloried in face of the world, and thy memory gibbeted before mankind. Let us see how thou wilt compare with those who kidnap men in Boston! Go seek companionship with them! Go claim thy kindred, if such they be! Go tell them that the memory of the wicked shall rot,—that there is a God; an Eternity; ay! and a Judgment too! where the slave may appeal against him that made him a slave, to Him that made him a man.

"What! Dost thou shudder? Thou turn back! These not thy kindred! Why dost thou turn pale, as when the crowd clutched at thy life in London Street? It is true, George Jeffreys, and these are not thy kin. Forgive me that I should send thee on such an errand, or bid thee seek companionship with such—with Boston hunters of the slave! Thou wert not base enough! It was a great bribe that tempted thee! Again I say, pardon me for sending thee to keep company with such men! Thou only struckst at men accused of crime; not at men accused only of their birth! Thou wouldst not send a man into bondage for two pounds! I will not rank thee with men who, in Boston, for ten dollars, would enslave a negro now! Rest still, Herod! Be quiet, Nero! Sleep, St. Dominic, and sleep, O Torquemada! in your fiery jail! Sleep, Jeffreys, underneath 'the altar of the church' which seeks with Christian charity to hide your hated bones."

"Well, my brethren, these are only the beginning of sorrows. There will be other victims yet; this will not settle the question. What shall we do? I think I am a calm man and a cool man, and I have a word or two to say as to what we shall do. Never obey the law. Keep the law of God. Next I say, resist not evil with evil; resist not now with violence. Why do I say this? Will you tell me that I am a coward? Perhaps I am; at least I am not afraid to be called one. Why do I say, then, do not now resist with violence? Because it is not time just yet; it would not succeed. If I had the eloquence that I sometimes dream of, which goes into a crowd of men, and gathers them in its mighty arm, and sways them as the pendent boughs of yonder elm shall be shaken by the summer breeze next June, I would not give that counsel. I would call on men, and lift up my voice like a trumpet through the whole land, until I had gathered millions out of the North and the South, and they should crush slavery for ever, as the ox crushes the spider underneath his feet. But such eloquence is given to no man. It was not given to the ancient Greek who 'shook the arsenal and fulmined over Greece.' He that so often held the nobles and the mob of Rome within his hand, had it not. He that spoke as never man spake, and who has since gathered two hundred millions to his name, had it not. No man has it. The ablest must wait for time! It is idle to resist here and now. It is not the hour. If in 1765 they had attempted to carry out the Revolution by force, they would have failed. Had it failed, we had not been here to-day. There would have been no little monument at Lexington 'sacred to liberty and the rights of mankind' honoring the men who 'fell in the cause of God and their country.' No little monument at Concord; nor that tall pile of eloquent stone at Bunker Hill, to proclaim that 'Resistance to tyrants is obedience to God.' Success is due to the discretion, heroism, calmness, and forbearance of our fathers: let us wait our time. It will come—perhaps will need no sacrifice of blood."[215]

[Footnote 215: 2 Parker's Occasional Sermons, p. 334-337, 343-348, 351, 352.]

Gentlemen, I think Judge Finch could construct a misdemeanor out of these words; you will find in them nothing but the plain speech of a minister of the Christian religion.

On the 6th of July, 1851, I preached "Of the three chief Safeguards of Society," and said:—

"Nowhere in the world is there a people so orderly, so much attached to law, as the people of these Northern States. But one law is an exception. The people of the North hate the fugitive slave law, as they have never hated any law since the stamp act. I know there are men in the Northern States who like it,—who would have invented slavery, had it not existed long before. But the mass of the Northern people hate this law, because it is hostile to the purpose of all just human law, hostile to the purpose of society, hostile to the purpose of individual life; because it is hostile to the law of God,—bids the wrong, forbids the right. We disobey that, for the same reason that we keep other laws: because we reverence the law of God. Why should we keep that odious law which makes us hated wherever justice is loved? Because we must sometimes do a disagreeable deed to accomplish an agreeable purpose? The purpose of that law is to enable three hundred thousand slaveholders to retake on our soil the men they once stole on other soil! Most of the city churches of the North seem to think that is a good thing. Very well; is it worth while for fifteen million freemen to transgress the plainest of natural laws, the most obvious instincts of the human heart, and the plainest duties of Christianity, for that purpose? The price to pay is the religious integrity of fifteen million men; the thing to buy is a privilege for three hundred thousand slaveholders to use the North as a hunting field whereon to kidnap men at our cost. Judge you of that bargain."

"I adjure you to reverence a government that is right, statutes that are right, officers that are right; but to disobey every thing that is wrong. I intreat you by your love for your country, by the memory of your fathers, by your reverence for Jesus Christ, yea, by the deep and holy love of God which Jesus taught, and you now feel."[216]

[Footnote 216: 2 Parker's Occasional Sermons, p. 392-394.]

You will say all this is but indispensable duty; but the judge who hanged a man for treason because he promised to make his son "heir to the Crown"—meaning the "Crown Tavern" that he lived in—would doubtless find treason in my words also.

On the 12th of April, 1852, I delivered an address to commemorate the first anniversary of the Kidnapping of Thomas Sims, and said:—

"But when the rulers have inverted their function, and enacted wickedness into a law which treads down the unalienable rights of man to such a degree as this, then I know no ruler but God, no law but natural Justice. I tear the hateful statute of kidnappers to shivers; I trample it underneath my feet. I do it in the name of all law; in the name of Justice and of Man; in the name of the dear God."

"You remember the decision of the Circuit judge,—himself soon to be summoned by death before the Judge who is no respecter of persons,—not allowing the destined victim his last hope, 'the great writ of right.' The decision left him entirely at the mercy of the other kidnappers. The Court-room was crowded with 'respectable people,' 'gentlemen of property and standing:' they received the decision with 'applause and the clapping of hands.' Seize a lamb out of a flock, a wolf from a pack of wolves, the lambs bleat with sympathy, the wolves howl with fellowship and fear; but when a competitor for the Presidency sends back to eternal bondage a poor, friendless negro, asking only his limbs, wealthy gentlemen of Boston applaud the outrage.

"'O judgment! thou art fled to brutish beasts, And men have lost their reason!'"

"When the Fugitive Slave Bill passed, the six New England States lay fast asleep: Massachusetts slept soundly, her head pillowed on her unsold bales of cotton and of woollen goods, dreaming of 'orders from the South.' Justice came to waken her, and whisper of the peril of nine thousand citizens; and she started in her sleep, and, being frighted, swore a prayer or two, then slept again. But Boston woke,—sleeping, in her shop, with ears open, and her eye on the market, her hand on her purse, dreaming of goods for sale,—Boston woke broadly up, and fired a hundred guns for joy. O Boston, Boston! if thou couldst have known, in that thine hour, the things which belong unto thy peace! But no: they were hidden from her eyes. She had prayed to her god, to Money; he granted her the request, but sent leanness into her soul."

"Yet one charge has been made against the Government, which seems to me a little harsh and unjust. It has been said the administration preferred low and contemptible men as their tools; judges who blink at law, advocates of infamy, and men cast off from society for perjury, for nameless crimes, and sins not mentionable in English speech; creatures 'not so good as the dogs that licked Lazarus's sores; but, like flies, still buzzing upon any thing that is raw.' There is a semblance of justice in the charge: witness Philadelphia, Buffalo, Boston; witness New York. It is true, for kidnappers the Government did take men that looked 'like a bull-dog just come to man's estate;' men whose face declared them, 'if not the devil, at least his twin-brother.' There are kennels of the courts wherein there settles down all that the law breeds most foul, loathsome, and hideous and abhorrent to the eye of day; there this contaminating puddle gathers its noisome ooze, slowly, stealthily, continually, agglomerating its fetid mass by spontaneous cohesion, and sinking by the irresistible gravity of rottenness into that abhorred deep, the lowest, ghastliest pit in all the subterranean vaults of human sin. It is true the Government has skimmed the top and dredged the bottom of these kennels of the courts, taking for its purpose the scum and sediment thereof, the Squeers, the Fagins, and the Quilps of the law, the monsters of the court. Blame not the Government; it took the best it could get. It was necessity, not will, which made the selection. Such is the stuff that kidnappers must be made of. If you wish to kill a man, it is not bread you buy: it is poison. Some of the instruments of Government were such as one does not often look upon. But, of old time, an inquisitor was always 'a horrid-looking fellow, as beseemed his trade.' It is only justice that a kidnapper should bear 'his great commission in his look.'"

"I pity the kidnappers, the poor tools of men almost as base. I would not hurt a hair of their heads; but I would take the thunder of the moral world, and dash its bolted lightning on this crime of stealing men, till the name of kidnapping should be like Sodom and Gomorrah. It is piracy to steal a man in Guinea; what is it to do this in Boston?

"I pity the merchants who, for their trade, were glad to steal their countrymen; I wish them only good. Debate in yonder hall has shown how little of humanity there is in the trade of Boston. She looks on all the horrors which intemperance has wrought, and daily deals in every street; she scrutinizes the jails,—they are filled by rum; she looks into the alms-houses, crowded full by rum; she walks her streets, and sees the perishing classes fall, mowed down by rum; she enters the parlors of wealthy men, looks into the bridal chamber, and meets death: the ghosts of the slain are there,—men slain by rum. She knows it all, yet says, 'There is an interest at stake!'—the interest of rum; let man give way! Boston does this to-day. Last year she stole a man; her merchants stole a man! The sacrifice of man to money, when shall it have an end? I pity those merchants who honor money more than man. Their gold is cankered, and their soul is brass,—is rusted brass. They must come up before the posterity which they affect to scorn. What voice can plead for them before their own children? The eye that mocketh at the justice of its son, and scorneth to obey the mercy of its daughter, the ravens of posterity shall pick it out, and the young eagles eat it up!

"But there is yet another tribunal: 'After the death the judgment!' When he maketh inquisition for the blood of the innocent, what shall the stealers of men reply? Boston merchants, where is your brother, Thomas Sims? Let Cain reply to Christ."[217]

[Footnote 217: 1 Parker's Additional Speeches, p. 50, 70, 88, 89, 92, 93, 100, 101.]

The Sunday after Mr. Webster's death, Oct. 31, 1852, I spoke of that powerful man; listen to this:—

"Mr. Webster stamped his foot, and broke through into the great hollow of practical atheism, which undergulfs the State and Church. Then what a caving in was there! The firm-set base of northern cities quaked and yawned with gaping rents. 'Penn's sandy foundation' shook again, and black men fled from the city of brotherly love, as doves, with plaintive cry, flee from a farmer's barn when summer lightning stabs the roof. There was a twist in Faneuil Hall, and the doors could not open wide enough for Liberty to regain her ancient Cradle; only soldiers, greedy to steal a man, themselves stole out and in. Ecclesiastic quicksand ran down the hole amain. Metropolitan churches toppled, and pitched, and canted, and cracked, their bowing walls all out of plumb. Colleges, broken from the chain which held them in the stream of time, rushed towards the abysmal rent. Harvard led the way, 'Christo et Ecclesiae' in her hand. Down plunged Andover, 'Conscience and the Constitution' clutched in its ancient, failing arm. New Haven began to cave in. Doctors of Divinity, orthodox, heterodox, with only a doxy of doubt, 'no settled opinion,' had great alacrity in sinking, and went down quick, as live as ever, into the pit of Korah, Dathan, and Abiram, the bottomless pit of lower law,—one with his mother, cloaked by a surplice, hid beneath his sinister arm, and an acknowledged brother grasped by his remaining limb. Fossils of theology, dead as Ezekiel's bones, took to their feet again, and stood up for most arrant wrong. 'There is no higher law of God,' quoth they, as they went down; 'no golden rule, only the statutes of men.' A man with mythologic ear might fancy that he heard a snickering laugh run round the world below, snorting, whinnying, and neighing, as it echoed from the infernal spot pressed by the fallen monsters of ill-fame, who, thousands of years ago, on the same errand, had plunged down the self-same way. What tidings the echo bore, Dante nor Milton could not tell. Let us leave that to darkness, and to silence, and to death.

"But spite of all this, in every city, in every town, in every college, and in each capsizing church, there were found Faithful Men, who feared not the monster, heeded not the stamping;—nay, some doctors of divinity were found living. In all their houses there was light, and the destroying angel shook them not. The word of the Lord came in open vision to their eye; they had their lamps trimmed and burning, their loins girt; they stood road-ready. Liberty and Religion turned in thither, and the slave found bread and wings. 'When my father and my mother forsake me, then the Lord will hold me up!'

"After the 7th of March, Mr. Webster became the ally of the worst of men, the forefront of kidnapping. The orator of Plymouth Rock was the advocate of slavery; the hero of Bunker Hill put chains round Boston Court House; the applauder of Adams and Jefferson was a tool of the slaveholder, and a keeper of slavery's dogs, the associate of the kidnapper, and the mocker of men who loved the right. Two years he lived with that rabble rout for company, his name the boast of every vilest thing.

"'Oh, how unlike the place from whence he fell!'"

"Do men mourn for him? See how they mourn! The streets are hung with black. The newspapers are sad colored. The shops are put in mourning. The Mayor and Aldermen wear crape. Wherever his death is made known, the public business stops, and flags drop half-mast down. The courts adjourn. The courts of Massachusetts—at Boston, at Dedham, at Lowell, all adjourn; the courts of New Hampshire, of Maine, of New York; even at Baltimore and Washington, the courts adjourn; for the great lawyer is dead, and Justice must wait another day. Only the United States Court, in Boston, trying a man for helping Shadrach out of the furnace of the kidnappers,—the court which executes the Fugitive Slave Bill,—that does not adjourn; that keeps on; its worm dies not, and the fire of its persecution is not quenched, when death puts out the lamp of life! Injustice is hungry for its prey, and must not be balked. It was very proper! Symbolical court of the Fugitive Slave Bill—it does not respect life, why should it death? and, scorning liberty, why should it heed decorum?"[218]

[Footnote 218: 1 Parker's Additional Speeches, 235-37, 246-47.]

On the 12th of February, 1854, I preached "Some Thoughts on the new Assault upon Freedom in America."

"Who put Slavery in the Constitution; made it Federal? who put it in the new States? who got new soil to plant it in? who carried it across the Mississippi—into Louisiana, Florida, Texas, Utah, New Mexico? who established it in the Capital of the United States? who adopted Slavery and volunteered to catch a runaway, in 1793, and repeated the act in 1850,—in defiance of all law, all precedent, all right? Why, it was the North. 'Spain armed herself with bloodhounds,' said Mr. Pitt, 'to extirpate the wretched natives of America.' In 1850, the Christian Democracy set worse bloodhounds afoot to pursue Ellen Craft; offered them five dollars for the run, if they did not take her; ten if they did! The price of blood was Northern money; the bloodhounds—they were Kidnappers born at the North, bred there, kennelled in her church, fed on her sacraments, blessed by her priests! In 1778, Mr. Pitt had a yet harsher name for the beasts wherewith despotic Spain hunted the red man in the woods—he called them 'Hell Hounds.' But they only hunted 'savages, heathens, men born in barbarous lands.' What would he say of the pack which in 1851 hunted American Christians, in the 'Athens of America,' and stole a man on the grave of Hancock and Adams—all Boston looking on, and its priests blessing the deed!"

"See what encourages the South to make new encroachments. She has been eminently successful in her former demands, especially with the last. The authors of the fugitive slave bill did not think that enormity could be got through Congress: it was too atrocious in itself, too insulting to the North. But Northern men sprang forward to defend it—powerful politicians supported it to the fullest extent. The worse it was, the better they liked it. Northern merchants were in favor of it—it 'would conciliate the South.' Northern ministers in all the churches of commerce baptized it, defended it out of the Old Testament, or the New Testament. The Senator of Boston gave it his mighty aid,—he went through the land a huckster of Slavery, peddling Atheism: the Representative of Boston gave it his vote. Their constituents sustained both! All the great cities of the North executed the bill. The leading Journals of Boston advised the merchants to withhold all commercial intercourse from Towns which opposed Kidnapping. There was a 'Union Meeting' at Faneuil Hall. You remember the men on the platform: the speeches are not forgotten. The doctrine that there is a Law of God above the passions of the multitude and the ambition of their leaders, was treated with scorn and hooting: a loud guffaw of vulgar ribaldry went up against the Justice of the Infinite God! All the great cities did the same. Atheism was inaugurated as the first principle of Republican government; in politics, religion makes men mad! Mr. Clay declared that 'no Northern gentleman will ever help return a fugitive Slave!' What took place at Philadelphia? New York? Cincinnati?—nay, at Boston? The Northern churches of commerce thought Slavery was a blessing, Kidnapping a 'grace.' The Democrats and Whigs vie with each other in devotion to the fugitive slave bill. The 'Compromises' are the golden rule. The North conquered her prejudices. The South sees this, and makes another demand. Why not? I am glad of it. She serves us right."

"In 1775, what if it had been told the men all red with battle at Lexington and Bunker Hill,—'your sons will gird the Court House with chains to kidnap a man; Boston will vote for a Bill which puts the liberty of any man in the hands of a Commissioner, to be paid twice as much for making a Slave as for declaring a freeman; and Boston will call out its soldiers to hunt a man through its streets!' What if on the 19th of April, 1775, when Samuel Adams said, 'Oh! what a glorious morning is this!' as he heard the tidings of war in the little village where he passed the night,—what if it had been told him,—'On the 19th of April, seventy-six years from this day, will your City of Boston land a poor youth at Savannah, having violated her own laws, and stained her Magistrates' hands, in order to put an innocent man in a Slave-master's jail?' What if it had been told him that Ellen Craft must fly out of Democratic Boston, to Monarchic, Theocratic, Aristocratic England, to find shelter for her limbs, her connubial innocence, and the virtue of her woman's heart? I think Samuel would have cursed the day in which it was said a man-child was born, and America was free! What if it had been told Mayhew and Belknap, that in the pulpits of Boston, to defend kidnapping should be counted to a man as righteousness? They could not have believed it. They did not know what baseness could suck the Northern breast, and still be base."[219]

[Footnote 219: 1 Parker's Additional Speeches, p. 351, 352, 357-359, 368, 369.]

You will think all this is good morality; but Mr. Curtis in 1836, maintained that kidnapping in Massachusetts, would "promote harmony and good-will where it is extremely desirable to promote it, encourage frequent intercourse, and soften prejudice by increasing acquaintance, and tend to peace and good-will." Nay, that it may be "perfectly consistent with our policy ... to interfere actively to enable the citizens of those States [the slave States] to enjoy those institutions at home." "Slavery is not immoral;" "By the law of this Commonwealth slavery is not immoral."[220]

[Footnote 220: Med Case, p. 9, 11.]

After Commissioner Loring had kidnapped Anthony Burns, I attended the meeting at Faneuil Hall, and spoke. Gentlemen, I did not finish the speech I had begun, for news came that an attack was made on the Court House, and the meeting was thrown into confusion. I did not speak in a corner, but in the old Cradle of Liberty. Here is the report of the speech which was made by a phonographer, and published in the newspapers of the time—I have no other notes of it. You shall see if there be a misdemeanor in it. Here is the speech:—

"FELLOW-SUBJECTS OF VIRGINIA—[Loud cries of 'No,' 'no,' and 'you must take that back!'] FELLOW-CITIZENS OF BOSTON, then—['Yes,' 'yes,']—I come to condole with you at this second disgrace which is heaped on the city made illustrious by some of those faces that were once so familiar to our eyes. [Alluding to the portraits which once hung conspicuously in Faneuil Hall, but which had been removed to obscure and out-of-the-way locations.] Fellow-citizens—A deed which Virginia commands has been done in the city of John Hancock and the 'brace of Adamses.' It was done by a Boston hand. It was a Boston man who issued the warrant; it was a Boston Marshal who put it in execution; they are Boston men who are seeking to kidnap a citizen of Massachusetts, and send him into slavery for ever and ever. It is our fault that it is so. Eight years ago, a merchant of Boston 'kidnapped a man on the high road between Faneuil Hall and Old Quincy,' at 12 o'clock,—at the noon of day,—and the next day, mechanics of this city exhibited the half-eagles they had received for their share of the spoils in enslaving a brother man. You called a meeting in this hall. It was as crowded as it is now. I stood side by side with my friend and former neighbor, your honorable and noble Chairman to-night [George R. Russell, of West Roxbury], [Loud Cheers,] while this man who had fought for liberty in Greece, and been imprisoned for that sacred cause in the dungeons of Poland, [Dr. Samuel G. Howe,] stood here and introduced to the audience that 'old man eloquent,' John Quincy Adams. [Loud Cheers.]

"It was the last time he ever stood in Faneuil Hall. He came to defend the unalienable rights of a friendless negro slave, kidnapped in Boston. There is even no picture of John Quincy Adams to-night.

"A Suffolk Grand-Jury would find no indictment against the Boston merchant for kidnapping that man. ['Shame,' 'shame.'] If Boston had spoken then, we should not have been here to-night. We should have had no fugitive slave bill. When that bill passed, we fired a hundred guns.

"Don't you remember the Union meeting held in this very hall? A man stood on this platform,—he is a Judge of the Supreme Court now,—and he said—When a certain 'Reverend gentleman' is indicted for perjury, I should like to ask him how he will answer the charge? And when that 'Reverend gentleman' rose, and asked, 'Do you want an answer to your question?' Faneuil Hall cried out,—'No,' 'no,'—'Throw him over!' Had Faneuil Hall spoken then on the side of Truth and Freedom, we should not now be the subjects of Virginia.

"Yes, we are the vassals of Virginia. She reaches her arm over the graves of our mothers, and kidnaps men in the city of the Puritans; over the graves of Samuel Adams and John Hancock. [Cries of 'Shame!'] 'Shame!' so I say; but who is to blame? 'There is no north,' said Mr. Webster. There is none. The South goes clear up to the Canada line. No, gentlemen, there is no Boston to-day. There was a Boston once. Now, there is a North suburb to the city of Alexandria,—that is what Boston is. [Laughter.] And you and I, fellow-subjects of the State of Virginia—[Cries of 'no,' 'no.' 'Take that back again.']—I will take it back when you show me the fact is not so.—Men and brothers, (brothers, at any rate,) I am not a young man; I have heard hurrahs and cheers for liberty many times; I have not seen a great many deeds done for liberty. I ask you, are we to have deeds as well as words? ['Yes,' 'yes,' and loud cheers.]

"Now, brethren, you are brothers at any rate, whether citizens of Massachusetts or subjects of Virginia—I am a minister—and, fellow-citizens of Boston, there are two great laws in this country; one of them is the LAW OF SLAVERY; that law is declared to be a 'finality.' Once the Constitution was formed 'to establish justice, promote tranquillity, and secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves and our posterity.' Now, the Constitution is not to secure liberty; it is to extend slavery into Nebraska. And when slavery is established there, in order to show what it is, there comes a sheriff from Alexandria, to kidnap a man in the city of Boston, and he gets a Judge of Probate, in the county of Suffolk, to issue a writ, and another Boston man to execute that writ! [Cries of 'shame,' 'shame.']

"Slavery tramples on the Constitution; it treads down State Rights. Where are the Rights of Massachusetts? A fugitive slave bill Commissioner has got them all in his pocket. Where is the trial by jury? Watson Freeman has it under his Marshal's staff. Where is the great writ of personal replevin, which our fathers wrested, several hundred years ago, from the tyrants who once lorded it over Great Britain? Judge Sprague trod it under his feet! Where is the sacred right of habeas corpus? Deputy Marshal Riley can crush it in his hands, and Boston does not say any thing against it. Where are the laws of Massachusetts forbidding State edifices to be used as prisons for the incarceration of fugitives? They, too, are trampled underfoot. 'Slavery is a finality.'

"These men come from Virginia, to kidnap a man here. Once, this was Boston; now, it is a Northern suburb of Alexandria. At first, when they carried a fugitive slave from Boston, they thought it was a difficult thing to do it. They had to get a Mayor to help them; they had to put chains round the Court House; they had to call out the 'Sims Brigade'; it took nine days to do it. Now, they are so confident that we are subjects of Virginia, that they do not even put chains round the Court House; the police have nothing to do with it. I was told to-day that one of the officers of the city said to twenty-eight police-men, 'If any man in the employment of the city meddles in this business, he will be discharged from service, without a hearing.' [Great applause.] Well, gentlemen, how do you think they received that declaration? They shouted, and hurrahed, and gave three cheers. [Renewed applause.] My friend here would not have had the honor of presiding over you to-night, if application had been made a little sooner to the Mayor. Another gentleman told me that, when that man (the Mayor) was asked to preside at this meeting, he said that he regretted that all his time to-night was previously engaged. If he had known it earlier, he said, he might have been able to make arrangements to preside. When the man was arrested, he told the Marshal he regretted it, and that his sympathies were wholly with the slave. [Loud applause.] Fellow-citizens, remember that word. Hold your Mayor to it, and let it be seen that he has got a background and a foreground, which will authorize him to repeat that word in public, and act it out in Faneuil Hall. I say, so confident are the slave agents now, that they can carry off their slave in the daytime, that they do not put chains round the Court House; they have got no soldiers billeted in Faneuil Hall, as in 1851. They think they can carry this man off to-morrow morning in a cab. [Voices—'They can't do it.' 'Let's see them try.']

"I say, there are two great laws in this country. One is the slave law. That is the law of the President of the United States; it is the law of the Commissioner; it is the law of every Marshal, and of every meanest ruffian whom the Marshal hires to execute his behests.

"There is another law, which my friend, Mr. Phillips, has described in language such as I cannot equal, and therefore shall not try; I only state it in its plainest terms. It is the Law of the People when they are sure they are right and determined to go ahead. [Cheers and much confusion.]

"Now, gentlemen, there was a Boston once, and you and I had fathers—brave fathers; and mothers who stirred up those fathers to manly deeds. Well, gentlemen, once it came to pass that the British Parliament enacted a 'law'—they called it law—issuing stamps here. What did your fathers do on that occasion? They said, in the language of Algernon Sydney, quoted in your resolutions, 'that which is not just is not law, and that which is not law ought not to be obeyed.'—[Cheers.] They did not obey the stamp act. They did not call it law, and the man that did call it a law, here, eighty years ago, would have had a very warm coat of tar and feathers on him. They called it an 'act,' and they took the Commissioner who was here to execute it, took him solemnly, manfully,—they didn't hurt a hair of his head; they were non-resistants, of a very potent sort, [Cheers,]—and made him take a solemn oath that he would not issue a single stamp. He was brother-in-law of the Governor of the State, the servant of a royal master, 'exceedingly respectable,' of great wealth, and once very popular; but they took him, and made him swear not to execute his commission; and he kept his oath, and the stamp act went to its own place, and you know what that was. [Cheers.] That was an instance of the people going behind a wicked law to enact Absolute Justice into their statute, and making it Common Law. You know what they did with the tea.