at the chapel
ſ of THE
coinage or prizesºziºsº,
August 15, 1824.
BY PHILIP LINDSLY,
PRINCETon, N.J.
PRINTED AND PUBLISHED BY D. A. BORRENSTEIN;
Also Fon sale
By A. FINLEY, PHILADELPHIA ; Edward J. coALE, BALTIMoRE;
JoHN P. HAVEN, NEw-York; AND BY D. FENTon,
*- TRENTON, N. J.
1824.

THE following Discourse was delivered, and is pub-
lished, at the request of the young Gentlemen composing
the Senior Class in THE college of NEw-JERSEY : and to
them it is now affectionately inscribed by their friend
THE AUTHOR.
* - " " " -º-º-º-º-º-º-º- as *-** ***.*.*.*.*.*.*ALY.
GENERAL LIBRARY
ANN ARBOR, MICHIGAN
2 . .27. § 3
A SERIMION,
&c. &c.
GALATIANS, I. 10.
* For IF I YET PLEASEſ) MEN, I SHOULD NOT BE THE SER-
WANT OF CHRIST.”
THE Apostle, after having twice pronounced them.
accursed who should preach any other gospel than that
which he had already preached, proceeds in the text to re-
pel the calumnies of the false judaizing teachers, who had
represented him to the Galatians as one that suited his doc-
trines to the inclinations of his hearers. He exposes both
the absurdity and the malignity of the accusation: and
with conscious integrity maintains, that, his supreme desire
and single aim was to please God, without any undue re-
gard, either to the praise or censure of men. Previously
to his conversion to the christian faith, he had been, as he
himself acknowledges, an active, bigoted, intolerant party-
zealot; a pharisee of the strictest sect; a determined, in-
veterate opposer and persecutor of the followers of Christ.
He was now the reverse. He gloried in the cross which he
once despised. Though last called to the apostolic office,
yet he was ever first in labours, first in dangers, and first
in sufferings.
His character rises so far above the ordinary standard of
human excellence that he has deservedly become the object
of a world’s admiration, however unjust to him while liv-
ſ y “. .
4
ing. Yet, notwithstanding his great and decided superiori-
ty to most other men, he was humble to the lowest step
of abasement and condescension : none ever thinking bet-
ter of others, or more meanly of himself. He viewed him-
self as the least of the apostles; not meet to be called an
apostle; as less than the least of the saints; nay, as the
very chief of sinners. As a debtor to all men, and bound
for Christ’s sake, to risk his life in their service. Such
were the honesty and the magnanimity of that man of God,
whom, mercenary intruders into the sacred office, dared
to calumniate and to slander.
1. The primary object, therefore, of the apostle in the
text and context, doubtless was, to defend himself and fel-
low-labourers in the ministry, against the illiberal and un-
founded abuse of the enemies of truth.
2. This, and similar declarations of the apostle, in
another epistle, have been left on record for the instruction
and direction of all preachers of the gospel: and particular-
ly for the reproof of such as make it their chief aim to
gain the applause of men. • .
3. And, to teach us all the duty of studying to please
God; to honour and obey his holy law, steadily, cheer-
fully, and perseveringly, instead of yielding to the follies,
the humours and the opinions of ungodly men.
Agreeably to the latter and more extensive application
of the text, I purpose to submit to your consideration a few
remarks on the great principle of human conduct recom-
mended by this distinguished apostle. “For if I yet pleas-
ed men, I should not be the servant of Christ.”
The doctrine of the text may be comprised in this sin-
gle proposition, viz:
Those persons, who make it their principal aim and
study to please their fellow-men, cannot be the sincere dis-
ciples or servants of Christ.
-5
In order to illustrate this proposition in the most prac.
tical manner, let us
I. Take a cursory view of the character of those who
are actuated by a steady desire to please God : and notice
some of the distinguishing features of this character.
And then—
II. Contemplate the converse of the proposition, or
consider the character of those whose great ambition it is
to please men: that, by a candid comparison of the one
with the other, we may distinctly perceive the justness
and propriety of the apostle’s declaration in the text.
I. The duty to obey God in all things, and the charac-
ter of those who conscientiously perform it.
Our obligation to love and to obey God, will not be
questioned, it is presumed, by any who do not deny his
existence. It is no less a dictate of reason than a command
of revelation. The manner in which this love is to be ex-
ercised, and this obedience to be rendered, is explained in
the Bible. Here we are taught the whole of what God
requires of man. In this sacred book, and no where else,
we discover the true standard, and the unerring rule of
life. And our duty is, in every thing we undertake, to
ascertain whether, in its progress and issue, we shall please
God.—Whether we shall act agreeably to the precepts giv-
en us in His word. If not, we must forbear, let the conse-
quences be what they may. God’s will must be paramount
to every other. He must reign supreme or not at all.
In making this broad statement, I do not mean to say
or to insinuate that the judgment of our fellow-men is to
be altogether disregarded, or even lightly esteemed ; but
that we are to value it, and to yield to it, only so far as it
may comport with the revealed will of God. The appro-
bation of men is, on many accounts, desirable. And if it
6
can be acquired without a sacrifice of our duty to God, or
while in the conscientious discharge of that duty, it is well.
Eut if it cannot be acquired on these terms, we may con-
tent ourselves by reflecting that we ought to obey God ra-
ther than man. “My friends,” said the Saviour to his
disciples, “be not afraid of them that kill the body, and
after that have no more that they can do. But I will fore-
warn you whom ye shall fear : fear him, which, after he
hath killed, hath power to cast into hell; yea, I say unto
you, fear him.”
The desire of pleasing God must be constant and uni-
versal. Its influence must extend not only to actions and
to words, but to the purposes and wishes of the soul. For
all these, God will bring us to judgment. He will expose
to light the hidden works of darkness. Every secret sin,
every proud, selfish desire, every attempt to evade the
rigour of his law, by a partial or hypocritical observance
of its precepts, every deviation from the straight line of
duty, every compliance with the maxims and fashions of a
corrupt world to the dishonouring of Christ, will, if not
washed away in atoning blood, be required at our hands in
the day when God shall judge the world in righteousness,
and award to every man sentence according to the deeds
done in the body. There is, therefore, but one course
which can be safely and consistently taken ; and that is the
high-way of duty, which leads directly to Heaven and to
God. “For if any man love the world, the love of the
Father is not in him.”
Having thus generally illustrated the principle inculca-
ted in our text, we proceed to notice some of the beneficial
effects which are likely to result from it: or some of the
most striking features which mark the character of the man
who is habitually actuated by it.
1. DECISION —The man whose steady aim is to please.
God, will be a decided man; because he will have one
7
great and definite object constantly in view. All those
grounds of hesitation and suspense, by which the mass of
mankind are perplexed and retarded in their schemes and
operations, will be removed. His heart is fixed. He has
deliberately made his election and formed his purpose. He
has come out from the world, and boldly enlisted under
the banners of the King of Heaven. VICTORY or DEATH,
I was going to say, is his motto—but of victory he is sure.
From the moment that the apostle, on whose words we are
commenting, exclaimed, on his way to Damascus, “Lord,
what wilt thou have me to do P’’ his resolution was taken.
Not to be great, but to be good. Not to command, but to
obey. Not to seize upon a favourable crisis to advance his
fortune or his fame, but to count all things loss for the ex-
cellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus his Lord. He
instantly submitted, without consulting with flesh and
blood. He humbly sought the divine direction, and when
obtained, he persevered, without ever once listening to the
suggestions of worldly interest or worldly policy, till he
gained the crown of martyrdom, and was honoured with
the brightest crown in his Master’s kingdom. Perhaps the
history of the world does not furnish a happier instance of
decision of character, in its highest degree and purest form,
than was exhibited in the life and labours of the apostle
Paul.
This is a quality, indeed, which we always admire;
whether displayed amidst the dazzling splendour of mar-
tial exploits, or in the bold discharge of painful, disinterest-
ed and benevolent duties. We admire it in wicked men
sometimes as well as in good. In Caesar, when passing
the Rubicon, and trampling on the liberties of his country;
and in Luther, when contending for the truth against
Christendom in arms. In Pizarro, while deluging an em-
pire with the blood of the innocent; and in Howard, while
traversing a continent in search of the wretched objects of
his boundless philanthropy. We admire it in the hero
-- §
and the warrior, as well as in the self-denied and devoted
missionary of the cross. In Cromwell and in Nelson, as in
Whitefield and in Martyn. But how different the objects
at which these severally aimed ; how different the motives
by which they were influenced ; and how different the es-
timate which the sober christian will make of their re-
spective characters!
But this admired quality may exist and flourish in
thousands on whom the public eye never fastens. The
great mass of mankind live and die in the vale of obscurity,
unknowing and unknown, except in the contracted sphere
of their own immediate neighbourhood. But on these the
Sun of righteousness may beam with all his radiant splen-
dours. He may kindle in the heart a flame, pure and
steady, which no dark cloud can obscure—no tempest ex-
tinguish. Here may be called into exercise, and here may
be put to the proof, all the virtues which can adorn human-
ity, though the tongue of eulogy may never pronounce
their praise. Though their names may not appear on the
page of story, or in the annals of martyrdom, yet they
may be truly great and good, and as resolute and decided
in their Master’s cause as those who have laid down their
lives in its defence.
Here then, among genuine christians, however humble
or however exalted, are we to look for the operation and
the fruits of this ennobling principle. They have occasion
for it every moment of their lives. Without it, they can-
not maintain their ground against the most insidious and
formidable enemies by whom they are constantly surround-
ed, and who are ever watching an opportunity for a favour-
able attack. Did they halt between two opinions; did
they hesitate whom to serve, Jehovah or Baal ; or did they
attempt to serve two masters, God and Mammon; or to
reconcile religion with conformity to the world, they
would be undone. They would manifest a weakness and
an indecision wholly unworthy of a christian soldier, and
9
wholly incompatible with the sublime object for which he
professes to be contending.
In mere men of the world, great decision of character
very frequently approximates to obstinacy and to an over-
weening confidence in their own judgment. In such it is
as likely to operate to the disadvantage and defeat of their
own favourite views and measures, as to their success—to
their disgrace as to their credit. As was the case with
Charles XII. of Sweden, and with Louis XIV. of France.
It is oftentimes, too, associated with other lofty traits,
or qualities, or virtues, especially courage and magnanimi-
ty, which conspire to shed a lustre about a character, and a
course of conduct, which every moral and religious princi-
ple forbids us to approve. Such is the fact in regard to
the great mass of heroes as presented to us in history or in
fiction. A daring, invincible, persevering energy of soul,
displayed in the most trying situations, imparts a seductive
and pernicious dignity even to the most selfish, most am-
bitious, most arbitrary and unprincipled scourges of man-
kind. Satan himself, as portrayed by Milton’s graphic
pencil, commands, by his bold decision in the midst of
ruin and horror and despair, a portion of admiration—and,
I may add, extorts the sympathy of the feeling reader.
But the firmness, courage and decision of the christian
hero differ in kind as well as in degree from these qualities
in other men, because they are of heavenly origin. In him
it is not a mere constitutional hardihood or intrepidity which
resists and overcomes all opposition when inflamed or im-
pelled by some base predominant passion. It is a strength
and resolution—an inflexible determination of mind to per-
severe, which is the product of grace—the gift of God—
and which is essential to his comfort and well-being. He
is not urged forward by the ambition of power or fame, but
constrained by the love of God, as the ruling passion of
his soul, to encounter every danger and difficulty in the
pursuit of the noblest object which can be presented to the
Fº
10
enterprise of an intelligent and immortal being. Such was
Paul. And such, in a measure, is every honest, faithful
christian, whatever may be his standing or circumstances
in the world. -
2. ConsistENCY. —The next valuable property or trait
which we shall notice as distinguishing the man who stu-
dies in all things to please God, is consistency of character
and conduct. This, too, is an excellence of the highest
order: and although it may be found in some men who are
destitute of religious principle, and who are acting, what
the world esteem, an honourable part in life; and in mul-
titudes of grossly wicked men who are sufficiently uniform
and consistent in their wickedness; yet we think it can be
predicated of none with so much propriety and emphasis as
of the sincere christian. *
No man can be uniformly decided and consistent unless
he have some one great object steadily in view, on which
all his affections centre, and towards which all his aims and
efforts are directed. This object must absorb his whole
soul. It must call into vigorous exercise, and direct and
control all the energies and faculties of his being. Now
to the christian, God is such an object. His eye is con-
stantly directed to God—his heart flows out in love to
God—and his every desire and purpose and endeavour is
to please God. The world—its fashions, opinions, pur-
suits, are all fickle and changeable. But God is immutable.
IHis law is immutable. The same things which pleased
him yesterday, continue to please him to-day, and will
please him to-morrow and forever. Consequently, in
serving him habitually and faithfully, we shall pursue one
direct, unvarying course through life. And every aberrat-
ion from it will arise from our not conforming strictly to
the rule which we profess to have adopted, and not from
any change or inconsistency in the rule itself. The mo-
ment we sincerely resolve to be the Lord's, and his only,
11
our character is established. It has assumed a permanent
tone and form and complexion. It afterwards undergoes no
essential alteration, although we are continually advancing
in holiness, and shall be so, till death be swallowed up
in victory, and we be crowned with that perfect image of
our Maker of which sin has robbed us. But were we anx-
ious to please ungodly men, who differ not only from one
another, but, at times, even from themselves ; who are un-
reasonable, capricious, and unstable, we could never expect
to obtain, or, at least, to preserve their favour, without the
basest compliances and the most disgraceful inconsistencies.
Our character, therefore, would be perpetually changing,
or rather we should have no character at all.
True it is, there are many who are styled christians,
and who intend to pass for christians, who make it their
daily study so to conduct as to keep in favour both with
believers and unbelievers. When a man of this descript-
ion is summoned to the performance of any duty, he first
inquires how much of it he may omit, or how much of it
he must perform, and in what way, so as not to endanger
his reputation, or hurt his interest, or prevent his rising in
the world. His main object is, so to manage matters, or
so to play his card (to use a phrase sufficiently dignified for
the chameleon-like character under consideration) as most
effectually to promote his own designs; maintain the form
and appearance of religion ; preserve the confidence and
friendship of his neighbours ; and yet be suspected, neither
of superstitious weakness on the one hand, nor of an undue
compliance with the world, on the other. He is anxious
not to be thought righteous overmuch by one class, and
yet to appear sufficiently religious before another. Such a
man God abhors. And such a man, after all, frequently
fails to reap the despicable harvest which he so ardently
covets and so dishonestly seeks.
The man who is truly devoted to God, who esteems his
service a most reasonable service, as every real christian
12
certainly does, will be free from that spirit of murmuring
and cavilling against the divine law as being too strict and
severe, which is so peculiar to the world, and which is
often manifested by those who fain would be considered as
separated from the world. Like David, when restored to
the divine favour, after a most grievous fall, he will have
respect to all the commandments of God. He will be as
conscientious and faithful in secret, when no man is the
witness of his actions, as in public, when the eyes of the
world are upon him. And in this respect he differs from
all the world. In this respect he differs essentially from
the hypocrite whose chief desire is to be seen and admired
of men; and who, of course, is under no restraint when
unobserved. Now every man, at all acquainted with the
christian warfare, will readily concur in the opinion that
this is at once a very rare and a very great acquisition.
Every man who is conversant with his own heart will in-
stantly acknowledge the extreme difficulty of yielding an
unreserved submission and an unqualified approbation to a
ław which condemns as defective his most earnest endeav-
ours to obey it. But difficult and rare as the attainment
truly is, yet it is possessed by every child of God. Such
is the victory which he has gained over the corruptions of
his nature, that the law of God is his delight. He approves
its restraints, its demands and its penalties. He would not
have it less strict and less holy, were it in his power to:
make it so. He can adopt the fervent language of the de-
vout psalmist, and, with his whole heart, exclaim—
“Righteous art thou, O Lord, and upright are thy judg-
ments. Thy testimonies that thou hast commanded are
righteous and very faithful. I will meditate in thy pre-
cepts, and have respect unto thy ways. I will delight my-
self in thy statutes ; I will not forget thy word. Open
thou mine eyes, that I may behold wondrous things out of
thy law. Thy testimonies also are my delight, and my
counsellors. Teach me, O Lord, the way of thy statutes,
13
and I shall keep it unto the end. Give me understanding,
and I shall keep thy law; yea, I shall observe it with my
whole heart.”
3. ConteNTMENT.-The man, who possesses the spirit
of the apostle as manifested in our text, is satisfied with his
condition in the world, because God has allotted it to him.
Whether his station be high or low, whether he be rich or
poor, gives him no distressing concern, because he perfect-
ly knows that on earth he has no continuing city, and that
his future welfare depends not on his external circumstan-
ces here. With David he can say—“In God have I put
my trust; I will not be afraid what man can do unto me.”
With Timothy he believes, that, “Godliness with content-
ment is great gain. For we brought nothing into this
world, and it is certain we can carry nothing out.”
While other men hazard soul and body for the vain dis-
tinctions of this passing world, he enjoys more than the
world can give, and what neither death nor hell can take
from him. While they are wandering in the desert, and
groping in the dark, after they know not what, he is care-
fully, though unperceived, laying up a treasure in heaven,
which shall be to him an inheritance incorruptible, unde-
filed, and that fadeth not away. He is making sure of the
true riches—the pearl of great price—whose lustre shall be
untarnished, and whose value undiminished, when all the
splendour and all the wealth of this world shall have perish-
ed forever. He is seeking, not the honour and the favour
of mortals, who, to-morrow may forsake him or have no-
thing to bestow ; but the favour and the honour of God,
whose friendship is unchangeable and eternal. For whom
God loveth, he loveth unto the end.
This was the source of that solid peace of mind which
the great apostle of the Gentiles, in the midst of the sever-
est trials and conflicts, so preeminently enjoyed. And I
apprehend that real contentment can be derived from no
14
other source. Men have exercised all their ingenuity in
speculation, and all their skill in experiment, on the all-
important subject of human happiness : and, I suppose, it
will be conceded that their plans and experiments have,
without one exception, proved delusive and unsatisfactory.
It is foreign to my present purpose to enter into a minute
discussion of this common-place topic, of highest moment
indeed to every human being, and which has exhausted the
resources and the wit of the most capacious aud exalted hu-
man intellect ; but which still continues to be overshadow-
ed by clouds and darkness—and impervious to the keenest
powers of mere human vision. -
If happiness were within the reach of mortal grasp, we
may rest assured that the envied jewel would long since
have been the property of some fortunate adventurer. The
unremitting efforts and researches of hundreds of millions
of men, during a period of six thousand years, would have
been crowned with success; were the object within the
scope of human enterprise and of human power. But this
world still remains, to all its votaries and admirers, a vale
of sorrow and discontent, of misery and disappointment.
No matter what the sphere in which they move—no mat-
ter how exalted the stations which they occupy—no mat-
ter how much of the world they may claim as their own—
still bitterness is in their cup ; their days are few and evil ;
vanity and emptiness are written on all their possessions,
and contentment is a stranger to their bosoms.
The Book of God alone unfolds a brighter prospect, and
scatters light in the path of the hapless wanderer. It is
only in the service of the God of heaven that any portion of
pure felicity can be realized. In support of this position
we might produce the testimony of both the wicked and
the good in every age. For even the enemies of religion
are constrained sometimes to do her homage; and while
they feel the vanity of the objects which they most ardent-
ly coveted, and of the pursuits in which they most eagerly
15
engaged, they almost unconsciously sigh for the supporting
energy and consoling balm of this despised, rejected, ridi-
culed system of heavenly grace and wisdom, through which
life and immortality have been brought to light. And
which, in spite of all their artifice and sophistry, brings at
times conviction most painfully home to their hearts. An
awful uncertainty and dread of the future are ever haunting
the minds of those who are not prepared to meet it. And
I doubt not that Voltaire himself, and all those who, like
Voltaire, have most deliberately and openly bid defiance
to the power of the Eternal, by trampling on his laws and
by scorning the provisions of his grace, would, if their
voice could be heard from the world of spirits, confess that
they never knew what it was to be happy. Much less can
we suppose them to be happy, who, while they half believe
the truth, yet do never heartily embrace it and conform
their lives to it. Theirs is a state of perpetual alarm and
misgiving. To-day they resolve to reform and to seek the
one thing needful : to-morrow the world seduces them from
their purpose, and leads them still further astray : again
they feel the remonstrances and the checks of conscience,
and again determine to pursue a wiser and a safer course :
but the good work is once more deferred to a more conven-
ient season. They daily sin against light and knowledge :
they do violence to their own convictions and wishes: and
as they live without peace, so they commonly die without
hope. Happy are those, and those only, who make it their
constant study and their chief delight to please God.
Theirs is the heavenly boom which kings and heroes and
sages have sought and sighed for in vain. And though in-
finitely beyond the power of this world to bestow, it may
be possessed by all without money and without price. My
friends, would you be happy P God only can make yoti so.
In his favour is life, and his loving kindness is better than
life. In his presence is fulness of joy; at his right hand
there are pleasures for evermore.
16
4. CHARITY. —A holy sympathy with the condition,
character and welfare—with the feelings, sufferings, joys,
and sorrows of his fellow-men, will prompt and distinguish
all his words, measures and actions.
Supreme love to God—the loving of our neighbour as
ourselves—the forgiveness of our enemies—the rendering
of good for evil—the doing to others as we would have
them do unto us—what a heavenly principle is this? What
a delightful system of human conduct does it not inspire and
enforce? Charity! precious, blessed, peace-speaking cha-
rity, on whom is thy celestial influence shed—even in
these days of liberal and beneficent enterprises 2 Yes, I
demand, even in these days of Bible, Tract, Education and
Missionary Societies, who is it that breathes the pure spirit
of that charity which “seeketh not her own, which vaunt-
eth not itself, and is not puffed up P’’
It is obvious that the giving of money to any object,
however meritorious and important, is not an infallible evi-
dence of charity: although the withholding of it may suf-
ficiently indicate its total absence from the heart. But
men may build Churches, endow Colleges and Theological
Seminaries, bestow thousands on religious and benevolent
institutions; yea, bestow all their goods to feed the poor,
and give their bodies to be burned, and yet be utterly des-
titute of charity Even in those ages of christendom which
we denominate the darkest and the most superstitious, a
thousand-fold more of worldly property was actually con-
secrated to religion than is contributed by the enlightened,
liberal, zealous, wealthy, ostentatious christians of the
present day. Then it was that almost all of those noble
literary and religious establishments, which now constitute
the chief ornament and glory of Europe, were founded and
permanently endowed. If charity were to be measured by
the amount of pecuniary donations and alms-giving, then I
affirm that Roman Catholic Europe, before the fifteenth
century, had exhibited more of it in a given period, than
17
the protestant world can boast of in any similar period
since. The rich may, of their abundance, cast much into
the Lord's treasury, and yet be comparatively sordid and
illiberal, as Scripture and daily experience very clearly
prove. Nay, many a poor widow, and many a despised
slave actually give more to charitable objects than do mul-
titudes of those whose very profession is reputed to have
charity for its basis. -
There is a fashion too in giving, as in all other things.
Many give to an object that is popular who would other-
wise give nothing. It is their own interest, character, and
influence that they have in view to promote by their seem-
ing liberality. Their station in society demands of them
a small contribution occasionally, and this they cannot re-
fuse from a fear of becoming unpopular. They will, there-
fore, put down their names on a subscription list which is
to be published to the world, while they would not bestow
a six-pence where they could get no credit for it from their
fellow-men. Regardless alike of the command of the Sa-
viour, and of the eye of Him who seeth in secret, who
looketh to the heart, and who will judge of the motive.
Men often overlook the claims to their generosity which
are at hand—near at home—at their very doors—while
they make a show of extraordinary sympathy and regard
for remote objects, about which the public mind may hap-
pen to be greatly excited. They will give, for instance,
to the rescue of the Greeks from Turkish oppression, while
they forget that we retain in this land of liberty, a people
as numerous as the Greeks, in a state of bondage, a hund-
red-fold more degrading and miserable than any Moham-
medan tyrant ever dreamt of inflicting on his conquered
vassals. I object not to our aiding the Greeks in their
noble struggle for independence and the rights of man.
Theirs is a good cause, and worthy of more substantial
support than all our eloquent speeches have yet procured
for it.
1S
But when will christian charity awake to the tears and
groans and cries and sufferings of the two millions of wretch-
ed Africans, who were dragged from their distant homes by
christian avarice—not subdued in the field of battle, and
subjected to the usual fate of a conquered people, as were the
Greeks—and who are here doomed, under christian masters,
to drink the bitterest cup ever presented to the lips of hu-
manity? The very tenderest mercies which they experience
at our hands, are cruelty and mockery, compared with the
harshest treatment which the Mussulman has ever shown to
a christian subject in time of peace. And even in the tumult
and fury of rebellion, have the infidel Turks been more
prompt to destroy and to exterminate, than are christians in
seasons of insurrection among their christian slaves P. How
absurd is it for us to volunteer as knights-errant in the cause
of liberty, humanity and religion, while the fairest portions
of our land are cursed and blasted with ignorance and de-
pravity and slavery and cruelty, to which the old world has
never furnished a parallel ! -
Colonization Societies may do great good both to indi-
viduals here, and to Africa and to Hayti. They may do
infinite good, especially to injured Africa. They may
withdraw from us many turbulent, ambitious spirits—many
lazy, worthless vagabonds—many who here would be bur-
densome or dangerous to the community, but who may, in
a more congenial abode, prove a blessing and an honour to
their species.—Nay, it is possible that in time they may
succeed in conveying the whole black population of these
northern states to the land of their fathers or of their breth-
ren. Heaven prosper them therefore, and dispose every
well-wisher to his country to countenance and to aid them!
But they will never touch the tremendous evil which ex-
ists—which is every day rapidly augmenting—and which
is already so threatening and appalling in its aspect that few
dare to look it in the face.
Our slaves must be emancipated upon the soil which
1.9
they cultivate. There is no alternative. And here they
will be emancipated, either by the fears, the interest, or
the christian kindness of their oppressors : or, they will,
by violence, wrest the rod from the tyrant’s grasp, and
drench in the white man’s blood that soil which has so
long been watered by their tears. Two millions of human
beings cannot be removed. They cannot be kept in per-
petual bondage. In twenty years they will be four mil-
lions—in forty or fifty years, eight millions—and so con-
centrated in particular sections of our country, that one
daring effort will break their chains forever.
Give them christian instruction—give them the Bible,
you will say. Good—give them the Bible, and teach them
to read it. Christians cannot do less. What a horrible
state is that which renders the distribution of the Bible
hazardous to the peace and welfare of any community! But
so it is. Give the negroes the Bible, and you virtually
charter their freedom. When did the Bible ever circu-
late freely and generally among a people without inspir-
ing them with a love of liberty, and eventually ensuring
them liberty? The connexion of civil liberty with reli-
gious knowledge is so obvious that it has long been a hack-
neyed topic of declamation, in reference to every other peo-
ple except the African slaves. To them, indeed, many
affect to imagine that the Bible may be sent to render them.
more contented with their lot, to enable them to endure
the driver's lash, to be insensible to the pang of separation
from a husband, a wife, a parent, or a child, at the bidding
of avarice or caprice; and to hug their chains in passive
submission. As if they were by nature either better than
all other men, or so far inferior to all others as to be inca-
pable of feeling or appreciating the motives by which they
are actuated. -
Here then is a dilemma, rather awkward, indeed, for an
American philanthropist to look at. We must either keep
the negroes in profound ignorance of the Bible, or, by be.
20
stowing it on them, we must contemplate their eventual
emancipation. -
Partial experiment—particular cases prove nothing.
A few individuals, here and there, may, by religious in-
struction, become the better servants, and, if really pious,
live happily in bondage. But let the bible shed its light
upon, and unfold its treasures to the whole coloured popu-
lation, and an impulse shall be given to the mighty mass
which no earthly power can resist or control. Twenty
white men might live very obedient to their masters' pleas-
ure in Algiers; but, twenty thousand, however christian
they might be, would not hesitate to regain their liberty
at the hazard of destroying the whole city, and of burying
in its ruins the entire population. Such, whether right or
wrong, is human nature. If the Bible be expected to
achieve such miracles of passive obedience and non-resist-
ance, why not send it to the Greeks, to teach them the
grace of patience and submission, instead of furnishing
them with money and arms to spread death and desolation
around them : With what dignity and truth might not the
Turkish despot retort upon christian freemen their incon-
sistency and contradictions ! -
Our christian ancestors, with the bible in every man’s
hands, and confessedly the most pious race on the globe,
resisted even to blood . the very first encroachment on their
political rights, and to secure them, involved their country
in all the horrors of a civil war, And who has ever
blamed them for thus withstanding—and for ultimately es-
tablishing the perfect independence of their country : Let
us beware then of the kind of logic which we apply to
men of like passions with ourselves. Assuredly, the day
of retribution is at hand. It will be a terrible day; unless,
by the seasonable intervention of our charities, we avert it.
Here is scope enough for all the charitable wisdom and
enterprise of all our statesmen, philanthropists, scholars,
ministers, aud christians. When shall the united energies
21.
of American charity and patriotism be brought to bear up-
on it with efficiency and success 2
The slaves, I repeat, must be free, and will be free up-
on the soil which they now inhabit. I have not hazarded
the assertion lightly, nor without having in mind a plan
for the purpose:—but this is not the occasion for its de-
velopment, My remarks on this fearful subject have been
this day pronounced in a corner—where, if they do no
good, they can do no harm. I should not have spoken
thus in a slave-holding state. Prudence, benevolence,
would have forbid it. When I shall have pitched my tent
among the wretched sufferers beyond the mountains, I shall
humbly look to Heaven for direction as to the line of con-
duct which duty may require me to pursue.
I have wandered from my subject—perhaps from my
province—but I have wandered purposely.
St. Paul has told us what charity is, in the thirteenth
chapter of his first Epistle to the Corinthians. And his
own life was a happy comment and illustration of the doc-
trine which he inculcated. He sought not his own. He
loved the souls of perishing immortals : and for these, like
his divine master, he laboured and suffered and died.
Riches and honours and thrones and diadems were beneath
his ambition and his regard. He was willing to labour for
the benefit of others in the field assigned to him, without
one selfish purpose or desire in reference to his own per-
sonal comfort or worldly advantage. And sure I am, that,
if this were not indisputably the fact, he would sink in our
estimation. - -
As a herald of salvation, a man must be, and appear to
be, above the world, and indifferent to its smiles and
frowns, or he ceases to occupy that lofty eminence which
commands respect, and which will command respect even
from the most abandoned, That minister of the gospel
who pursues his worldly interest with the same avidity
as other men do, can never be regarded as fairly enlisted
22
in, or honestly devoted to, the sacred cause which he pro-
fessionally espouses. Hence, in those countries where
great ecclesiastical distinctions and princely revenues are
attainable by the clergy, they are frequently sought with
the same views, and by the same kind of management,
with which the secular honours of the state, the army and
the navy are coveted and acquired. Cbristian charity has
no concern in the affair. Nor do the wise men of the
world consider the ministerial office in any other light than
as an honourable and lucrative profession to live by. And
the great men often look to the Church as furnishing a
convenient provision for their hopeful and graceless young-
er sons, on whom they can confer neither titles, nor for-
tunes, nor genius, nor learning. A pagan nobleman once
offered to turn christian, provided he should be made bish-
op of Rome. Doubtless, many conversions have origina-
ted from a similar motive—and many a high place in the
christian synagogue been reached by equally disinterested
and devoted men.
In our semi-barbarous republic, to adopt the style of
European courtesy towards us, the case is widely different;
and therefore the enormous abuse to which I have adverted
need not be apprehended. Still, something of the same
spirit may possibly actuate a portion of our clergy; and
much of the same sentiment in regard to them does cer-
tainly prevail among our people. And while we have on
record the cases of Judas and Simon Magus, we may rest
assured that men may be found base enough, even for a .
few paltry dollars, to assume the name and garb of Hea-
ven's ambassadors. Here is, at least, sufficient ground for
the most serious concern: and for the most rigid and im-
partial scrutiny into the dark recesses of our own hearts,
by all who preach or intend to preach the gospel of char-
ity to a ruined world. -
The enmity and the prejudices of men are already deep-
ly rooted and inveterate against our profession. Let us
23
beware how we provoke and increase this hostility. We
have no powerful secular arm—no military legions to flee
to for protection and defence. We are not even recog-
nised by our constitution, government, or laws. We ex-
ist by sufferance—and are literally put upon our good
behaviour. All this, perhaps, is as it should be. It is best
that we should be dependent on the good will and volunta-
ry contributions of the people. This, to be sure, is a novel
state of things, and without a parallel in the history of na-
tions. It is therefore anxiously and justly regarded as a
great experiment—the success of which our European
friends and foes do exceedingly question. That it will
succeed I have no doubt. But, then, our clergy must be
doubly circumspect, prudent and faithful. They must be
wise as serpents and harmless as doves. Holy charity must
throw around them her snowy mantle, and continually urge
them on to deeds of love and kindness. This will prove.
their best defence—their surest panoply—and will cause to
fall harmless at their feet many an envenomed shaft. It
will protect them from the blind rage of the brutal savage
—and the more malignant attacks of civilized power and
rank.
That man who is devoted to the well-being of others—
who goes about doing good—whose every action betokens
benevolence—who is the enemy of none, and the friend of
all—is safe the wide world over. He cannot be despised.
He will not often be hated. Such, at least, is the present
state of the world, that now he has nothing to fear. He
may traverse our western wilds—or encamp with the Afri-
ean in his native deserts—or proclaim salvation on the
banks of the Ganges—or take up his abode among the can-
nibals of the South Sea Islands—and, with charity in his
heart, and beaming from his eyes, and speaking in his act-
ions, he lives and labours unharmed. Not every where,
it is true. For although Greek, Jew and Barbarian—Hin-
doo, Pagan and Mohammedan will hear, or not oppose;
24
yet christians dread and persecute the messenger of peace.
Yes, among christians, where slavery has steeled the heart
against every christian principle, the lamb has been rent in
pieces as though he had been a tiger. But the blood of the
martyred missionary will not be silent. Demerara shall
yet hear his voice, in accents of terror, when her power to
avenge shall have passed away for ever.
“Charity is not easily provoked—thinketh no evil—
rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth—bear-
eth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, en-
dureth all things; suffereth long, and is kind.” When
shall it be said of christians, and of christian ministers—
behold, these brethren, how they love one another! When-
ever this happy period arrives, the world will soon be
christianized. The conduct of christians will then preach
in a manner too powerful to be resisted. The ten thousand
practical heresies, which every day meet the eye and escape
without ecclesiastical censure, will then cease to be a stum-
bling-block in the way of the jealous and unfriendly spec-
tator. The question will not be exclusively about an
orthodox creed—however essential that may be—orthodox
conduct (if I may be allowed such an application of the
term) will be the grand test of christian principle. The
tree will be known by its fruits. And that man who does
not live and act agreeably to the spirit and dictates of gos-
pel charity, so far as this can be ascertained, will not be
deemed a christian. However earnestly he may contend
for the faith—however precise and punctilious may be his
attention to all visible outward observances and ceremo-
nies—however smooth, polite and dignified may be his
deportment—however much o friendship and good will to
others he may profess with his lips—however many eccle-
siastical, literary, or academical titles, honours or rewards,
may crown his apparently happy lot—however long, fer-
vent, or elegant may be his prayers—however ready to
speak, on all occasions, in behalf of religion, truth and hu-
25
manity—however humble and modest a countenance and
demeanour he may exhibit, or however zealous, austere,
self-denied, devout, and dead to all earthly distinctions he
may appear to superficial observers—he may be all this,
and vastly more, and yet be as destitute of charity as Judas
Iscariot, or Saul of Tarsus while “breathing out threaten-
ings and slaughter against the disciples of the Lord.”
The Scribes and Pharisees were eminent in all these
respects. They had all that beautiful, immaculate, solemn,
imposing exterior which generally deceives the world, and
yet had no more charity than the Devil their master. It
is exactly such men that the world often love and honour
now. Their object is to gain the world—and they do gain
it—and, verily, they have their reward in it. How absurd
is it for such honourable rabbies to talk of being persecuted,
merely because they read in the Bible that good men will
be persecuted—hence inferring, that being very good
christians, they must necessarily be the objects of the
world’s hatred. Whereas, if persecution, hatred, oppo-
sition must await the christian, they ought to have decided
by this criterion that they are no christians at all. Nay,
they are the very men most apt to persecute others, as the
history of the church can amply demonstrate. Were our Sa-
viour himself to appear, and to act among them and their ad-
mirers, wherever they are to be found, just as he did among
their predecessors in Judea eighteen hundred years ago, he
would be denounced as irreligious—as a sabbath-breaker—
as making void the law—as a blasphemer—as a friend of
publicans and sinners—and, no doubt, the people would be
as ready to crucify him, and many a proud dignitary to say,
Amen! - •
Nothing is more common among these self-righteous
and self-sufficient Pharisees, than, first to injure and oppress
the real children of God, and then to complain of injury
from them, that by slander they may vindicate their op-
pression. “For such are false apostles, deceitful workers,
D
26
transforming themselves into the apostles of Christ. And
no marvel; for Satan himself is transformed into an angel
of light. Therefore, it is no great thing if his ministers also
be transformed as the ministers of righteousness; whose
end shall be according to their works.” •.
There is a species of artful prudence, or low cunning,
which some men possess, and by which they are enabled
to effect prodigies in this little world of ours. Without
talent, learning or piety, they contrive to get a reputation
for them all. They look wise—and say little, until they
see where their own interest lies. They never originate, or
take the lead in any great plan or enterprise. But, when
they are well convinced that such plan or enterprise will
succeed—that it is becoming popular—then they will step
forward in its favour—help it along—and, if possible, put
themselves at the head of it—and sometimes secure to
themselves the whole credit both of the design and the ex-
ecution. - - .
They appear very learned, though they never look into
books. Whatever they chance to hear, however, about
books and subjects, they take care to display, at the proper
time, and in such a way as to leave the impression that
they have really trimmed the midnight lamp, though they
may never have had fifty volumes at their command. They
are very charitable too, because they commend every char-
itable institution, and statedly contribute their dollar to its
funds, though they would have lived and died without do-
ing the one or the other, but for the reason already assign-
ed. They oppose no body, until they are sure he will be
put down: and they befriend no body until they know he
will rise without their aid.
Of friendship they are incapable. They are wholly
wrapped up in self—a great mass of ice which the sun him-
self cannot melt. They sympathize with no body. Nei-
ther poverty, nor sorrow, nor sickness, nor déath in those
around them, can ruffle a feature of their iron countenances,
27
or touch a chord of their stony hearts. Their self-com-
placency is most admirable. And, yet, with all this
seeming stoicism, they can stoop to the lowest abasement
of sycophancy to win the smiles of the rich and powerful.
They float along upon the surface of a smooth summer’s
sea—take whatever the world will give them—and are
ever on the watch for some little morsel to increase their
stock of comfortables. They are called prudent by this
very charitable, discriminating world : and, when possessed
of the usual honours and perquisites, they are hailed as
wise, and great, and happy. +
Happy the age in which we live—happy the Church of
Christ—thrice happy my country—if there be no ground in
truth and fact, for any of these sketches, allusions, or remarks.
I would not willingly conjure up the ghosts of other days,
merely to serve the uncharitable purpose of satirising or crim-
inating the men or the doings of the present. Happy, I repeat,
if there be no cause for it. And God forgive me, ifin word
or feeling, I have wounded the spirit of sacred charity.
“Physician, healthyself,” ought to be the standing moni-
tor to all who venture to denounce, condemn or censure
others. It is easier to preach than to practise, to advise
than to execute, to talk than to act. May Heaven grant
us all that charity which “shall cover the multitude of
sins”—which will clotheus with unaffected humility—con-
strain us “ to visit the fatherles and widows in their afflict-
ion”—to spend and be spent in our Master’s service—to
be sincere, without guile, unobtrusive, self-denied, bearing
with each other’s infirmities—and overflowing with love
to God and to all mankind
Such, brethren, are some of the beneficial effects which
may be expected to result from our being steadily influen-
ced by that elevated principle which reigns in the hearts
and regulates the lives of all consistent, faithful christians,
and which so signally characterized the whole career of the
great apostle Paul. To please God, implies, as you will
28
have perceived, the performance of all the duties which relí.
gion prescribes ; not as a task, but with a willing and
cheerful mind. We cannot please God unless we please
ourselves at the same time. By this, I mean, that our
chief and daily delight must arise from the practice of vir-
tue and holiness—from a growing conformity to the will
of God—from love to him—from zeal and activity in his
service—from the hope and full assurance of enjoying him
forever, through faith in the atoning sacrifice and perfect
righteousness of Jesus Christ, the divine Mediator, who
gave his life a ransom for many. ~,
II. Now, in order to make a fair estimate of the wis-
dom of that man’s choice who thus resolves, at every haz-
ard, to please God ; it may not be amiss just to glance at
those who make it their principal business to please men.
Whose grand object in life is to obtain their approbation.
Who regard this as the sublimest object of human pursuit,
and the attainment of it as constituting true greatness, and
as the legitimate reward of superior talents, virtues or ad-
dress. * - -
It would be well for all whose hearts are intent on gain-
ing popular or royal favour, to sit coolly down and care-
fully count the cost of its acquisition. Common prudence
—mere worldly wisdom, dictates the propriety of such a
course. No man ought to engage in any important enter-
prise, without previously ascertaining and duly weighing
the difficulties which he may be called to encounter in or-
der to success. Much less ought he to mark out to him-
self a line of conduct which may involve in it the character,
destiny and happiness of his whole life, without exercising
all possible caution and foresight. And in this country,
especially, does it behoove our ingenuous and aspiring
youth to ponder well the system which they are about to
adopt in regard to the subject under consideration.
I am aware that there are extremes to be avoided here,
29
as every where else. That there is a Scylla and a Charyb-
dis, between which it may be difficult, at all times, to find
our way with perfect safety. With a view to honesty, and
independence, and nobleness of spirit and of conduct, we
may possibly verge to the extreme of manifesting indiffer-
ence, and even contempt, for the judicious sentiments and
salutary counsels of the wise and the good. To this spe-
cies of high-mindedness, the apostle Paul lends no manner
of countenance, either by precept or example. He was,
on the contrary, remarkable for an amiable, conciliatory
deportment; and for his indulgence to the innocent usages
and prejudices of the various descriptions of both Jews and
Gentiles among whom he laboured. He flattered none,
but was courteous and civil to all. He complied with the
customs and fashions of the place; when such compliance
was not criminal. He neither ridiculed nor condemned
what was in itself harmless or indifferent. And yet, du-
ring the whole course of his apostolic labours, he never
once yielded to mere human opinion or authority, to the
injury or dishonour of that heavenly religion which he in-
culcated. What a lesson for ministers of the gospel, and
for all candidates for the holy office! He that hath ears to
hear, let him hear. .
Guarded by the distinction and the limitation to which
we have adverted ; let us, for a moment, look at that ex-
treme to which men are generally prone. Let us follow,
with an impartial eye, the man who sighs for fame and
honour and office; and who thinks no sacrifice too great to
secure them. Observe the dark and devious course he is
obliged to pursue—the humiliating drudgery to which he is
subject—the various, and oftentimes contradictory part
which he is compelled to act—while he obsequiously hu-
mours the foibles and caprices of every man whose censure
he fears, or whose praise and patronage he covets. Such
a man, and there are many such, has no will, no steady
purpose of his own. He is veered about by every popular
'30
breath, and tempered to the spirit and complexion of the
times. He is a time-server. To-day he is one thing, to-
morrow another. In this company he wears one face, in
that quite a different.
It is no matter what is the specific character of his am-
bition; whether to shine in the religious, or political, or
Hiterary world. The end is often the same in all. And
the means ordinarily employed, at least in the first two,
are very similar. Ecclesiastics have shown as much eager-
ness after power and distinction as politicians; and as little
scruple about the ways and means of succeeding. The
vanity of some men is, probably, as much gratified in be-
ing popular preachers, as that of others in becoming minis-
ters of state. Many have manifested as much anxiety to
wear a mitre, and as little delicacy and conscience in their
endeavours to gain it, as others to win a crown and to go-
vern a nation. The lawn frequently adorns the hypocrite,
as the ermine does the knave. By these remarks, I mean
to cast no reflection on ministers of the gospel generally;
or on magistrates, judges and civil rulers generally. I re-
fer to cases, however, of very common occurrence, and
such as serve aptly and pertinently to illustrate the argu-
ment. - .
Now, suppose these accommodating, intriguing, ambi-
tious spirits reach, at length, the goal of their wishes:
some in the church, others in the state. And, suppose
further, what scarcely ever happens, that they continue to
enjoy their ill-gotten honours to the end of life; that is,
during the cold winter of old age which still remains; for
life is commonly near to its close before their purpose is.
half accomplished ; yet, what is their acquisition---what is
their reward 2 I know it would be useless to put this ques-
tion to any actually engaged in the pursuit of these allur-
ing and deceiving phantoms. They would, probably,
smile at our simplicity, and our ignorance of the world.
Or think us unreasonably austere and censorious ; and as
31
travelling far out of our province in presuming to bring
under review their honourable principles and conduct.
But, I put the question to those who are still strangers to
ambition’s wiles and infatuation ; to mere spectators of the
passing scenes of worldly pomp and folly, who can contem-
plate the imposing insignia of rank and office, without be-
ing dazzled or blinded by their splendour—and, again, I
demand, what is their gain, even when Čompletely success-
ful; what the recompense for all their pains and toils and
anxieties 2 Temporal distinctions, it may be, to the cer-
tain forfeiture of eternal honours; and the favour of men
instead of the favour of God and the testimony of a good
conscience. Put into the one scale wealth, honour, power,
to whatever amount you please ; and put into the other the
gray hairs and decrepitude of age—the evening of a long
life of duplicity, intrigue, insincerity, restless ambition,
crafty artifice, inconsistency, base compliances, cringing
courtly sycophancy, or noisy swaggering professions of
devotion to the populace–add to this odious mass of abo-
mination, a near view of death, judgment, eternity, the
pit of perdition, the fire that is not quenched, and the smoke
of that torment which ascendeth up for ever and ever---
and, tell me, is the prize worth the price which you must
pay for it?
But even this view of the case, dark as it is, is much
too favourable. Men are not so easily pleased after all.
And should you make the attempt, in the most artful, pru-
dent and skilful manner, it is a thousand to one that you fail
of success. The minds of men are so variable—so perpet-
ually vibrating from one object to another—alternately
pleased and displeased with the same thing—that you may
be easily defeated, take what course you will. Judging
from facts, the chances are against you. The far greater
proportion of the candidates for popular favour do not suc-
ceed : the presumption therefore is, from experience and
32
analogy, that you will not. When you shall have spent
your best days, in order, as you imagine, to entitle your-
selves to the esteem of your fellow men, and when you are
just going to reap the fruits of your long and arduous la-
bours; behold, some unforeseen incident, some fortuitous
atom floating in the popular atmosphere, may thwart your
proud schemes and blast all your hopes. Nay, men some-
times lose the confidence and respect of others just in pro-
portion to the eagerness with which they court them.
There is little encouragement therefore to make the at-
tempt. --
I do not mean to say that every man who attains to
eminence in society—to high rank or power---is necessari-
ly a bad man : but that those who pursue the crooked po-
licy, and who stoop to the base artifices to which we have
pointed, and, indeed, all who make the world, in any form,
their idol, whether they seek its distinctions in an honour-
able or dishonourable way, are condemned by the divine law,
and must be regarded as the enemies of God. Permit me al-
so to observe, that, I have not advanced a syllable with the in-
tent to discourage men from the service of their country and
of their fellow men. Every man is bound to serve his coun-
try, and to do good to others according to his capacity and
opportunity. But every man is not bound to strive, by
means foul or fair, to govern his country. Many a chris-
tian serves his country effectually whose voice is never
heard in her public councils. He is content to remain a
private citizen, until he be fairly and honourably called
into a more distinguished sphere; and then he will dis-
charge his public and official duties, as in the presence of
God, according to the best of his knowledge and ability,
without any undue regard to personal consequences. And
if a fickle people dismiss him without cause from their
service, he retires from the chair of state with as much
dignity and self-possession as he advanced to it. He re-
33
tires with the composure and independence of conscious
integrity, and carries with him the love and respect of all
good men. .
Patriotism is an exalted virtue. It is a christain virtue.
But the thousands who style themselves patriots and friends
of the people---party-zealots who arrogate to themselves
and their party all the virtue and all the wisdom in the na-
tion ; no matter by what name their party is distinguished,
or what political creed they profess to espouse; prefer but
slender claims to the high character they assume. Self or
party is their idol. The large ideas which swell a patriot’s
bosom cannot enter their minds, obscured and narrowed by
prejudice and ambition. That they should sometimes be
disappointed is no matter of wonder or regret.
But, it is not merely the selfish aspiring demagogue
who is thus foiled in his struggles for the wreath of laurel
and the plaudits of his countrymen. The most deserving—
the most truly patriotic---those who indisputably merit the
public favour, are oftentimes wantonly discarded when
their services are no longer needed. They are scornfully
thrown aside, like useless lumber, and suffered to moulder
away in obscurity. Or, perhaps, the scaffold, the prison,
or banishment from his country, is the doom of the man
who has risked his all in her defence. Yes, my friends,
the history of every nation, ancient and modern, is replete
with examples of man’s ingratitude to man. How often
have kings cruelly neglected their most faithful, meritori-
ous subjects, to whom they were indebted for all their
greatness, and without whom their crowns would not have
been worth the wearing P Let the brave, magnanimous,
triumphant leader of Justinian’s imperial armies---let Co-
lumbus, the slighted father of this western world---let the
amiable Fenelon, an exile from the court of a Prince to
whom he had dared to be more faithful than any other sub-
ject in the kingdom---let these, and hundreds of others, be
my comment and my proof. -
34
How often, too, have Republics unpityingly beheld the
war-worn veteran humbly begging a scanty subsistence
from the very men whom his youthful valour had protect-
ed? How often, in their paroxysms of rage and jealousy,
have they torn from their bosoms the most virtuous, up-
right, enlightened and useful citizens? Let Miltiades---
let Aristides---let Socrates---let Cicero---let the De Witts of
Holland---and multitudes of others who might be named,
attest the fact. But the inconstancy and the ingratitude of
Republics, as well as of Princes, have long since become
proverbial.
Miserably disappointed then must he be, who ever ex-
pects to meet in the esteem and gratitude of his fellow-men,
a satisfactory recompense for his labours and sacrifices in
their behalf. Multitudes, in every age, have lamented,
when too late, their folly in building on a foundation so un-
stable. When, instead of the anticipated golden prize---
instead of the robes of state, and the greetings of the nation,
they are met with coldness, scorn and pity. With what
anguish, shame and remorse do they often exclaim ; as did
the once haughty, though then disgraced and humbled
minister of Henry VIII.---‘‘Had I served my God, with
half the zeal I served my king, he would not thus have for-
saken me in my old age!” “It is better to trust in the
Lord than to put confidence in man. Yea, it is better to
trust in the Lord than to put confidence in princes.”
Thus, brethren, you see it is impossible to please all
men. It is, in the highest degree, probable, that you will
not succeed in pleasing even a small number for any great
length of time together. It is absolutely certain, that, were
you able to please the whole world; yet the world is not
able to give you a reward adequate, or in any degree pro-
portioned to the sacrifice you must make for the purpose.
But, on the other hand, please God; and you may, at the
same time, confer the greatest possible benefits on your
35
fellow-men, though they may not choose to acknowledge
them. Still you have the decided advantage of the mere
man-pleaser, since he may be disappointed here, and he
has no hope for the future: while you live in the certain
expectancy of a rich reversion in the world of glory, how-
ever harshly or ungratefully you may be treated on earth
by your fellow-men. Moses and the prophets, Christ and
the apostles were all hated, reviled and persecuted in their
day. And yet, who will now venture to say that they
were not greater benefactors to mankind than the wretches
who opposed them : They laboured patiently and perse-
veringly through life to promote the best interests of un-
happy mortals. But, in no instance, did they seek to
please them, by flattering their pride, or by ministering to
their vices. The world therefore rejected them, and af.
fected to despise them. But God honoured them. And
posterity, both the pious and the impious, are constrained
to honour their memory ; and to pay them a tribute of re-
spectful homage which they cannot bestow on the most ex-
alted of this world’s favourites. -
When in a right mood for contemplating and fairly es-
timating human character---how very little, how truly
insignificant, do the great men whom the world have de-
lighted to honour, appear by the side of the man of God,
who preserved his integrity in the midst of a wicked and
perverse generation, undaunted by threats and tortures,
unmoved by promises and allurements; like Elijah, like
Daniel, like Paul, and ten thousand others, who steadfast-
ly adhered to their Master’s cause in the day when faith
was tried by fire---when the whole power and ingenuity of
hostile kings and nations were exerted to terrify and to
crush them 2 Who would degrade such men, though stoned,
imprisoned, scourged, buffeted, exiled, murdered---by
comparing them with the conquerors, and heroes, and sages
on whom have been lavished the praises and the adulation
of centuries?
36.
But posterity generally have eyes to distinguish, and
candour to do justice. On the page of history we can
make wise and impartial discriminations. And we invo-
luntarily, and often unconsciously, do homage to the few
who have had courage to be virtuous. I say unconsciously,
for what effect after all does this spontaneous testimony to
the merit of the sainted dead produce on our own conduct?
Do we not still, in spite of their example, and warning
voice, follow the multitude to do evil? Does not the fear
of man---a slavish regard to his opinion---a desire to please
him---or, at least, a dread of displeasing him, restrain us
from stepping boldly forward in the cause of truth and
virtue 2 It is the fashion among our friends and acquaint-
ances to be irreligious, and we have not resolution to resist
the fashion, although it will lead us to ruin, and we know
it. Probably, no consideration has more influence on the
minds of youth in deterring them from religion than this.
The maxims and customs of the world present an invinci-
ble barrier in their way to duty and piety. They dare not
be singular. The ridicule of their companions suggests to
them more fearful terrors than the wrath of the Almighty.
The vengeance of Heaven they can brave; but the sneers
of the witling and the fool they cannot encounter. They
are ready to forfeit the approbation of the wise and the
good, but they cannot resist the fascinations, or endure
the frowns of the wicked. -
One artful, insinuating, unprincipled profligate has
been often seen to acquire more influence among his asso-
eiates than ten discreet, judicious, exemplary christians.
Such is the delusive, bewitching, blinding character and
tendency of vice. A friend may counsel---a minister of
the gospel may warn—an affectionate parent may entreat—
but all in vain. They are borne along by the stream of
fashion : and in spite of every motive and of every convict-
ion, they suffer themselves to be hurried down to the deep
gulf, where repentance and remorse will overtake them
37
speedily; but, where hope, the last friend of the wretch-
ed, can never gain admittance. There, indeed, they may
meet their companions and seducers. There they may find
the fashionable, the gay and the honourable. There they
will behold the votaries of pleasure and of mammon—the
proud, the revengeful, the profane, the unchaste, the scof-
fer, the duellist, and the murderer. But all these will be
transformed into fiends and tormentors. Instead of allev-
iating misery, they will add fuel to the flame which can
never be extinguished, and give a keener anguish to the
gnawings of the worm which never dies. Is there infatu-
ation—is there consummate folly among the children of
men—and is not this the infatuation and the folly the most
inexplicable and pre-eminent? That a man should submit
to be undone—to be trampled in the dust by his enemies—
to be driven along like a lamb to the slaughter, or be led
in chains like a malefactor to the gibbet, by pretended
friends: where can be found a parallel to folly and infatu-
ation like this 2
Where is the man who labours to decoy the unwary
from the path of duty and rectitude——who solicits his com-
panion to sinful indulgences and excesses 2 Where is the
destroyer of innocence, the insnarer of youth, the tempter
to crime Such a man is a demon of darkness—he is the
emissary of hell—wherever or whoever he be! Whatever
may be his character or standing or reputation in the world,
he is the most odious and horrible monster in the Universe
of God. The master whom he serves is not, in our view,
so base, so foul a creature as he. That such a fiend, in
human shape, should ever be found lurking and prowling
for his prey in the consecrated groves of science, and
within the hallowed walls of the temple of God. Be
astonished, O ye heavens, at this!—This is a thought which
does not admit of comment. It is too big with horror to
be dwelt on. I dismiss it with the fervent hope, that, to
38
every person present, it is as dreadful and appalling as it
can be to the speaker.
Still, however, the opinions of the ungodly multitude
sway our determinations and constrain us to follow in their
train. Though we may not sit down in the seat of the
scornful, and become the open advocates of vice, or the
shameless adversaries of religion; still we shun her mild
control and refuse her wholesome restraints. Though her
ways be ever ways of pleasantness and all her paths peace:
though length of days be frequently in her right-hand,
and in her left riches and honour: though the divine word
be pledged, that, if we seek first the kingdom of God and
his righteousness, all needed temporal blessings shall be
ours: though the history of man demonstrate the wisdom
and excellence of our holy religion, and the folly and dan-
ger of opposing or neglecting it: yet we persist in prefer-
ring the favour and the praise of mortals to the favour and
approbation of God, who freely giveth all things richly to
enjoy to them that love and obey him. This is according
to nature, though it be contrary to our reason. For even
heathen philosophy could teach us, and has taught us, that,
no enjoyment can be purer, more substantial or more ex-
alted, than that which flows from a mind at peace with God
and with itself. Which is independent of the caprice of
fortune and the vicissitudes of time ; which is unaffected
by the malice of men or the convulsions of the world.
“Men and Brethren,” said Paul, with the most per-
fect composure, when arraigned before the Jewish Sanhe-
drim, “I have lived in all good conscience before God
until this day.” With what a generous confidence does
conscious virtue inspire the breast of a faithful servant of
God.—With what serenity of soul can he contemplate the
frowns and adversities, the changes and revolutions of this
mortal scene! He is the only man on earth who can say
with truth, and with a feeling of the sublime, “I fear God,
39
and I have no other fear.” He alone can march fearless
through the troubles of life, and fearless through the dark
valley of death. -
This discourse ought long since to have been brought
to a close : but I feel constrained to trespass, for once, still
further upon your patience. Seldom have I consented, by
appearing in this awful place, to deprive you of the la-
bours of more worthy and far abler messengers of peace.
Gladly had I been a hearer this day, as on former days,
could I have been satisfied that duty did not demand of me
this last humble testimony to the truth and excellence of
that holy religion which I profess: and which, it may soon
be my privilege, and, I trust, with a purer zeal, to pro-
claim in a region of comparative ignorance and darkness.
I am now addressing an audience, on many accounts,
of more than ordinary interest; and, I need hardly add,
dear to me beyond every other. I am aware, indeed, that
one immortal soul is as good as another. That the soul of
a beggar, of a savage or a slave is as precious as the soul of
a philosopher, a statesman or an emperor. But still, the
christian philanthropist may be allowed to look beyond
individual claims and individual happiness. He may con-
template the welfare of society at large : and in doing so,
he will see reason frequently to be more solicitous for the
conversion of a man of high standing and influence than
for the conversion of a man in humble life. Because the
former does, as it were, hold in his hands the destinies of
thousands of his fellow-men ; while the latter lives and dies
comparatively to himself. I presume that none will mis-
take my meaning—nor suppose that I would have the
humble poor man passed by, or think his salvation of little
moment. Every soul is of more value than a world. Upon
the most benevolent principle, therefore, may we pray
40
that they, especially, may become pious whose example
and whose counsel will be likely to constrain many to walk
in wisdom’s ways and to become candidates for a heavenly
crown. What a blessed paradise would not our country
speedily become, were all our physicians, lawyers, politi-
cians, instructers of youth, and college graduates, pious,
faithful, consistent christians?
With this prospective view to future good, I have often
surveyed the little company who usually assemble in this
Chapel, with emotions of unutterable concern. As I have
listened to the heavenly message, from time to time, pro-
claimed from this sacred desk, and felt the force of over-
whelming argument, and the powerful, but tender, appeal
to the heart and the conscience.—I have said, or thought,
surely no ingenuous youth can any longer resist. He must
be convinced. He will arise and return to his Father. And
then, should all obey the heavenly mandate, and all become
the reconciled friends of the Saviour, and all-go forth, at
length, enlisted on the side of truth and piety, and under
the banners of the great Captain of salvation : what a
mighty influence will they not exert, in their several
spheres of enterprise and benevolence, upon the moral as-
pect, and the immortal destinies of thousands—and these
again, upon the character and destinies of millions of their
fellow-men, during the lapse of ages yet to come 2 De-
lightful anticipation.
But, in a moment, the illusion vanishes. The pros-
pect darkens. The voice of persuasive eloquence ceases
to be heard. The sound of the Gospel trumpet dies away
upon the ear. Conscience again slumbers undisturbed.
Thoughtlessness and indifference mark the countenance
and the conduct. Mirth and pleasure banish the serious
purpose, and silence the earnest inquiry—“what must I
do to be saved P’’—which was just bursting from the lips
of the trembling and half-awakened sinner. Then am I
constrained to reverse the picture which a too sanguine
41
făney had drawn. Then do I behold the same accomplish-
ed and promising youth, already high in the world’s es-
teem—courted, flattered, followed, imitated. But, alas,
they are dragging in their train hosts of immortal beings
to the chambers of despair! They have gained a fearful
elevation only to sink the deeper into perdition’s intermin-
able gulf, and to become the eternal execration of the mul-
titudes who perish by their hands!.
You are destined, my youthful hearers, to be the in-
struments of incalculable good or of incalculable mischief in
the world. Let this thought, even now, enter deeply into
your hearts. It is enough to make an angel serious. For
what purpose are you training here * Why has Providence
distinguished you so far above millions of other youth 2
Wherefore all these precious privileges 2 Is it to fit you to
wield a more powerful arm against Heaven’s Almighty
King—and to spread desolation and misery and death
around you with greater certainty and effect?
You are, many of you, about to leave this venerable
seat of science. Your academical career is closed. You
will make your own estimate of the value of the instruct-
ions, and of the opportunities for improvement which you
have enjoyed while resident within these walls. You are
already rejoicing in the prospect of being speedily free
from college restraints; and of going forth into the world
as candidates for its honours and emoluments. I wish not
to diminish or to damp the joy which you may reasonably
feel in the anticipation of an event so long and so ardently
desired. But suffer me, with the most affectionate soli-
citude, again to remind you, that human science may prove
a curse as well as a blessing. That, it is possible, some of
you may have been preparing here only to act a more con-
spicuous part in the ſlend-like work of corrupting and de-
basing the human character, of blasting immortal hopes,
and of scattering the seeds of vice and misery wherever
you go.
- F
42
I rejoice, indeed, in the belief, that, however little I
may have contributed towards guarding you against the
snares and temptations which beset your path, and towards
imbuing your minds with the salutary principles of virtue
and religion, which alone can render science a hand-maid
to usefulness and true honour, yet that this sacred duty has
not been neglected. Others have laboured, and laboured
zealously and faithfully to enrich your hearts with heavenly
wisdom and enlightened piety. You have been kindly
conducted to the pure fountain of truth and excellence.
The Bible has been opened to your view. Its precious
pages you have diligently studied. Its sublime doctrines
and mysteries have been ably unfolded. Its practical pre-
cepts, its terrible sanctions and penalties, its cheering pro-
mises, consolations and rewards have been affectionately
exhibited, and pressed home upon the conscience.
Let the Bible be the companion of your future lives
and studies. Yes, were I now about to give my dying
counsel to the dearest objects of my heart, I would say—
clasp the Bible to your bosoms as your best friend and
counsellor. Read it daily, and with humble prayer for
the illuminating influences of that blessed Spirit who first
inspired and revealed it. There you will learn the origin,
the fall, the whole history of our once innocent and hap-
py, but now guilty and wayward race. There you will
behold the justice, holiness, wisdom, goodness and mercy
of the infinite Creator, and Judge, and King, and Saviour,
all harmonious in punishing and in redeeming the rebels
against his government. There you will read the true
character of your own hearts. A character which your
reason and conscience will constrain you to recognise.
There you will discover the necessity of that radical change
in your whole nature, without which, you cannot delight
in acts of dutiful and holy obedience. There you will im-
bibe that humble, teachable temper and spirit which will
dispose you, instead of cavilling at the divine economy, to
43
sit down meekly at the foot of the cross, and to learn of
Jesus, as little childen, the wonders of his redeeming grace.
The Bible will become a lamp to your feet, and a light
to your path, during the whole of your earthly pilgrimage.
It will teach you how to use the world so as not to abuse
it. It will tell you how to employ riches, and honours, and
learning, and power and influence, so as rightly to enjoy
them yourselves, and to render them subservient to the
happiness of others. It will animate your breasts with a
hope and a faith, it will inspire you with a courage and re-
solution, which will carry you safely through every trial,
cause you to triumph over every obstacle, and to rejoice,
with joy unspeakable and full of glory, in the midst of an
opposing and persecuting world.—Should it ever please
God to prove you as he proved Job, and Daniel, and Ste-
phen, and Paul; and as he is daily proving multitudes whom
he loves and whom he will presently welcome to the bright-
est mansions in his heavenly kingdom.
And why should you expect to escape the common lot
of humanity ? The Sun of prosperity will not always gild
your path. The season of sorrow and anguish and deser-
tion may arrive when you least think of it. Obloquy, re-
proach, contumely and scorn may meet you where you
had fondly anticipated sympathy and support. You may
be wounded in the house of your friends. Yes, those
friends, for whom you could have sacrificed every thing
but your integrity, whose confidence and esteem you val-
ued above wealth and station, whose good opinion and
kindness you would have relied on as certainly in the dun-
geons of the Inquisition, or at the stake of martyrdom, as
if you had been the idols of a nation, or firmly seated on
the throne of the Caesars—these cherished, revered friends
may forsake you when the first dark cloud gathers over
your heads, and leave you unpitied and alone, to breast the
storm of envy, jealousy and malice, as best you can.
Then comes the fearful trial of your faith and charity.
44
Then pierees the heart the keenest arrow ever levelled by
the enemy of human peace. -
Friendship ! Is it then delusion all ? Is it but a name
for fools and knaves to sport with ? No, there is friendship
in Heaven, and there is friendship among all the children
of God. You may need this last and bitterest token of
your Father’s love, to dissolve the charm which had sedu-
eed your affections from Him who will have the undivid-
ed heart. Then, in this moment of agony and universal
gloom, comes the Bible with its kindly reproofs and hal-
lowed consolations : saying—“The friendship of the world
is enmity with God. Whosover therefore will be a friend
of the world is the enemy of God. My kinsfolk have
failed, and my familiar friends have forgotten me. Yea,
mine own familiar friend, in whom I trusted, which did
eat of my bread, hath lifted up his heel against me.” But,
“like as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth
them that fear Him. There is a friend that sticketh closer
than a brother. When my father and my mother forsake
me, then the Lord will take me up. The Lord is my light
and my salvation : whom shall I fear? The Lord is the
strength of my life : of whom shall I be afraid : The right-
eous cry, and the Lord heareth, and delivereth them out
of all their troubles. The Lord is nigh unto them that
are of a broken heart: and saveth such as be of a contrite
spirit. Many are the afflictions of the righteous : but the
Lord delivereth him out of them all. He keepeth all his
bones: not one of them is broken. The angel of the
Lord encampeth round about them that fear him. Be of
good courage, and he shall strengthen your heart, all ye
that hope in the Lord.” g -
In a few days or weeks we part—to meet no more on
this side the eternal world ! This is a declaration so often
repeated, on similar occasions, in this institution, that, it
has become almost a matter of course : and the words
scarcely convey a meaning to the mind. For teachers and
45
pupils to part, is generally regarded as an occasion of con-
gratulation and rejoicing to one or the other; and often-
times to both. That youth should be eager to depart from
the scene of juvenile effort, emulation and discipline—how-
ever beneficial it may have been to them—experience tells
us is natural and common. That they should contemplate,
with joyous anticipations, the period when they may be
permitted to gather the flowers which fancy strews along
the path-way of future life; and to enter upon the proud
theatre of manly enterprise and generous ambition, is not
to be wondered at :—nor shall it receive from us any cy-
nical rebuke or condemnation. -
But there is an aspect, under which this subject presents
itself to the eye and the heart of those who feel the deep-
est interest in their welfare, solemn and awful and melan-
choly and distressing beyond the power of language to por-
tray. It is the thought, that, in the midst of all this buoy-
ancy of spirit and of hope—of all this earthly attractive-
ness and fascination—of all these bright and cheering pros-
pects—of all these dreams of virtuous exertion and hon-
ourable distinctions—of all those pleasures, joys and re-
wards which seem to stretch along to the remotest verge of
the horizon of youthful imagination ; and which cluster
around his every view in the richest groups and most va-
ried profusion, as if to chide his delay and backwardness
to improve the passing moment, and to seize the proffered
bounty of nature, thus pressed upon his acceptance—Oh,
it is the thought, that, at this very moment of purest sun-
shine, when all creation seems to smile, and to hail with
ecstacy the commencement of that youthful career which
promises so much glory and happiness—it is the dreadful
thought, that DEATH may be secretly lurking in the midst
of the happy company, and insidiously making his ap-
proach to the vitals of some unsuspecting youth, on whose
countenance plays the almost heavenly smile of assured
confidence and unmingled delight in the fairy scenes which
46
a long life is yet to realize Ah, my friends, would to
God, there existed no reason for this heart-rending—and, to
all human nature’s proudest, noblest schemes, most revolt-
ing, tantalizing, overwhelming thought !
But when did a class of Nassau’s favoured sons listen
to the last paternal counsels and monitions of age and wis-
dom in this place,” to whom the thought would have been
unseasonable P Or, from whose number one and another
have not been summoned to judgment, within one or a few
years after their departure hence It is true, God, in his
infinite goodness, has hitherto preserved these walls from
the great destroyer: but frequently he is permitted to come
very near to us, and, as it were, to spy out the victim
whom he will presently seize. And many such victims
have been seized within a few short months after we had
bid them an affectionate adieu, who appeared as likely to
live and prosper as any who now hear me. •
Every year has added its notes of mourning to the ca-
talogue of our youthful alumni. Within the past week, we
have heard of the death of no less than three,f (God only
knows how many more there may have been,) whose singu-
larly amiable and exemplary deportment, while students of
this College, will endear their memory to all who here had
the happiness to instruct, or to associate with them : and
whose talents and enterprise would have ensured them all
that their several professions could reasonably have com-
manded, or their ambition coveted. Rejoice, therefore,
with trembling, in the view of that resplendent but most
deceiving world into which you are about to enter. Re-
member, that, like Sergeant, and Johnson, and Crawford,
you may be cut down in the midst of the most brilliant
*A reference is here of course intended to the customary Waledictory
Addresses of the Presidents of the College. ---
+ Viz. Elihu Spencer Sergeant, Esq. of Philadelphia,
Rev. Daniel Johnson, of Newark, N. J. and
James Crawford, Esq. of Georgetown, D. C.
47
and successful career—or in the first stages of pious and
benevolent effort—or before you can even begin the work
on which your hearts are all intent. Read your own desti-
ny in the fate of others. Let the dead speak, and warn
you to be wise. Let death be provided for first, and above
all things; then peace and joy shall crown your lot, be its
complexion what it may. Then the world shall appear in
its true colours : and though it may doom you to many
trials, labours and disappointments, yet you can ever look,
with a holy calmness and delight, beyond this tempestuous
ocean, to that tranquil haven—to that blessed country
where the wicked cease from troubling, and where the
weary be at rest.
We part then, dear youth, to meet no more on earth.
Shall we meet in heaven P God grant that we may all meet
in heaven, and rejoice together in heaven—through infinite
riches of free grace in Christ Jesus the righteous, who is
over all, God blessed for ever ! -
And, now, farewell to these hallowed, loved, long-fre-
quented retreats—these literary and scientific halls, and
walks, and groves—these delicious fountains of truth and
wisdom—these repositories of the richest treasures of an-
cient and modern genius—these sacred tombs which cover
the ashes of the pious and the mighty dead—these health-
ful and cheering hills and plains—this favoured land of
churches and of Bibles, of peace, liberty and abundance—
these reverend fathers, brothers, friends—honoured col-
leagues, beloved pupils, respected fellow citizens—I bid
you all an affectionate—a long—a last -
FARE WELA, 7
APPENDIx.
—s-—
AS the author, in the preceding Discourse, has taken
occasion to animadvert, with considerable freedom, upon
the subject of slavery, he begs leave to say, that, at the
time, he had not the most distant idea of publishing his
remarks : and when, upon solicitation, he consented to the
printing of the Discourse, he did not anticipate its circula-
tion much beyond the limits of the village in which it was
delivered. Since, however, it is possible a copy or two
may find their way to some sections of our country where
the author would regret that his sentiments or feelings
should be misapprehended, or misrepresented, he further
adds, that, he had no intention to censure any particular
portion of his fellow citizens more than another. Modern
slavery, with all its evils and horrors, is the sin of Chris-
tendom. As it exists among Us, it originated under the
British government. It is an evil which we have inherit-
ed. It is acknowledged to be an evil, and lamented as such,
by all our citizens. In some places it is felt to a much
greater extent than in others. In several of the British
colonies, it has assumed an aspect the most horrific and
portentous. And it was, probably, rather from its charac-
ter, as there presented, that the author received his impres-
sions, than from what has yet occurred among ourselves.
Still, the injustice, and the danger, and the demoralizing
influence of slavery exist, in awful prominence, in this
land of liberty and christianity. Who will deny it 2 Nor
are the author’s anticipations in regard to the future at all
singular ; or more fearful than have been often expressed
by far abler judges. Mr. Jefferson, in a letter to Governor
Coles, written ten years ago, predicts a catastrophe as
G. -
50
tragical, at least, as Mr. Wilberforce himself would have
cared to hazard. “Yet (says Mr. J.) the hour of eman-
cipation is advancing in the march of time. It will come ;
and whether brought on by the generous energy of our own
minds, or by the bloody process of St. Domingo, excited
and conducted by the power of our present enemy, if once
stationed permanently within our country, offering asy-
lum and arms to the oppressed, is a leaf of our history not
yet turned over.”
That our slaves will be free at some not very distant
day, seems to be taken for granted by every body. The
grand question is, how shall the work of emancipation be
accomplished 2 When shall it be commenced * That the
negroes can ever be transported across the ocean, is an idea
too chimerical to be seriously entertained by any man.
The probability is, that, an increase rather than a diminu-
tion of their numbers will be the consequence of the bene-
volent but tardy efforts of our Colonization Societies.
When did any country lose in numbers by sending colo-
nies abroad From Europe the whole continent of Amer-
ica has been lately peopled, and yet Europe has been stea-
dily increasing in population. But space is not here al-
lowed for the argument.
In asserting that the slaves must be free in the land
where they now live ; their future amalgamation with the
whites was not contemplated as desirable, or even possi-
ble. Nor is it necessary that they should reside together
in the same state or community any longer than it shall be
found mutually agreeable and beneficial. Territory may
be assigned them for their exclusive habitation whenever
they shall be capable of managing their own concerns.
No rash or sudden emancipation would be just, or wise,
or politic, or humane. It would be Quixotism and mad-
ness to think of giving liberty to the whole mass at once,
without any previous training or discipline. What plan
could be devised and carried into effect for such a safe and
51
gradual emancipation, as would be consistent with the ac-
quired rights of their holders, and prove a common bles-
sing to all parties, still remains the great desideratum.
Nor does the author mean, at present, to attempt to sup-
ply it by any speculations of his own upon the subject.
Hundreds of writers might be referred to for opinions and
information—as well as many important facts and success-
ful experiments. Among the latter, the attention of the
benevolent reader is particularly directed to the noble ex-
ample recently set us by the Republick of Colombia ; and
to the system adopted by the late venerable Joshua Steele,
for the improvement and eventual emancipation of the
slaves on his own estates in Barbadoes.
It is believed that no insuperable difficulty will lie in the
way whenever men shall be disposed to engage heartily in
this good work. “The love of justice and the love of
country (says Mr. Jefferson) plead equally the cause of
these people, and it is a mortal reproach to us that they
should have pleaded it so long in vain, and should have
produced not a single effort, nay, I fear, not much serious
willingness to relieve them and ourselves from our present
condition of moral and political reprobation.”
If it be our fixed purpose to keep them in bondage as
long as possible, then do we act consistently and warily in
withholding from them all manner of instruction. En-
lightened men can never be retained in servitude except by
a power so decidedly superior that resistance would be fol-
ly. Let knowledge be diffused throughout any communi-
ty, and a speedy end will be put to all despotism, tyranny
and oppression. Any system of education therefore de-
signed for the Blacks, which comprehends even the simple
art of reading, ought to look forward to their seasonable
emancipation, and be preparatory to it. Otherwise we
shall nurture in our own bosom an enemy who will eager-
ly seize the first opportunity to repay with a vengeance all
sur well-intended kindness. Let the light of science and
52
of the Bible shine upon the slave, wherever he is to be
found in large numbers, and he will rend in Sunder the
strongest fetters, and assume that attitude which the con-
scious dignity of his nature claims as an inherent indefei-
sible right.
FIN I S.