OBJECTIONS TO THE EXCLUSION OF SLAVEHOLDERS ANSWERED.
1. It has been objected that fellowship should not be withdrawn from all slaveholders, because some of them are exceedingly kind to their slaves. To this it may be answered that it is impossible for a master to be really very kind to those he holds in slavery, because the holding of them in that relation is extreme unkindness. A kind slaveholder? What entitles him to that character? Does he renounce the claim of property in his slaves? No. Does he hire them to work for him and pay them when the work is done? No. Does he open a school on his plantation for their mental and moral culture? No. Does he permit his slaves to instruct each other in the rudiments of education? No. Does he use his influence to have the diabolical laws enacted to crush the manhood out of the colored man, repealed? No. Does he secure his slaves against the chances of the inter-state slave trade—against[Pg 185] sale at auction for his debts—against the lash of a Legree? No. What then entitles him to the character of a kind slaveholder? Why he simply treats them as a good man treats a fine horse or a favorite dog. He feeds them well, works them moderately, whips but little, but robs them of all! We abuse language when we say—a benevolent robber, a gentlemanly pickpocket, an honorable pirate or a kind slaveholder.
The poet, Longfellow, while traveling in Va., became acquainted with an honest old slave owned by a fine specimen of a kind, Christian, Presbyterian slaveholder. Said he:
“Calling at a blacksmith’s shop for a small job of work, I found the smith was a slave. On inquiring to whom I should make payment, he told me I might to him. His practice was to receive all the money paid at the shop, and pay it over to his master at night. I asked him how his master knew whether he rendered a just account. He replied, that he knew him too well not to trust him. That, as wrong as his master did by him, it was no excuse for him to do wrong by his master. He could deceive his master, but he could not deceive God, to whom he must render his final account. He said he was a Baptist, and had regular family prayers. His master was a Presbyterian, to[Pg 186] whom he gave credit for good usage and good training. But as he had faithfully served him fifty years, he did think that he ought to have the remainder of his days to himself. He regretted that he could not read the Bible; and I was pained to hear him attempt to quote it, he made such blunders. The tears started in the eyes of the poor man as he spoke of his hard condition, and looked forward to death only for release from his bondage. He thanked God that he had no children to inherit his ignorance and servitude.”
The kindness of certain slaveholders might be mere favorably considered if it were productive of any permanent practical benefits to the slave; but while it leaves him in the depth of his wretchedness,—exposed to all the horrors of the worst form of slavery, it is a meritless thing—unworthy the name of kindness. The kind slaveholder knows that when he dies his slaves will be sold at auction together with his horses, cattle, and plantation. What avails his fancied kindness when he knows the horrible chances to which he subjects his helpless victims. And how deeply guilty is he in the sight of God for refusing to break every yoke when he has the opportunity! To illustrate this thought and show the sequel of kind slaveholding we will subjoin a sketch of a woman’s[Pg 187] history who was the property of a kind slaveholder.
“A kind slave-master, in one of the Carolinas, had a large family, of various colors, some enslaved, some free. One of the slaves was his favorite daughter, and much accomplished. Dying, he willed his heir, her brother, to provide for her handsomely, and make her free. But her brother was a slave-master, and she was a slave. He kept and debauched her. At the end of four years he got tired of her; and that notorious slave-dealer, Woolfork, coming down to collect a drove, he sold his sister to him. “There is her cottage,” said he to Woolfork; “she is a violent woman. I don’t like to go near her; go and carry her off by yourself.” Woolfork strode into the cottage, told her of the fact and ordered her to prepare. She was dreadfully agitated. He urged her to hasten. She arose and said, ‘White man, I don’t believe you. I don’t believe that my brother would thus sell me, and his children. I will not believe unless he come himself.’—Woolfork coolly went, and required her brother’s presence. The seducer, the tyrant came, and, standing at the door, confirmed the slaveholder’s report. ‘And is it true? and have you sold me?’ she exclaimed. ‘Is it really possible? Look at this child! Don’t you see in every[Pg 188] feature the lineaments of its father? Don’t you know that your blood flows in its veins? Have you, have you sold me?’ The terrible fact was repeated by her master. ‘These children,’ said she, with a voice only half articulate, ‘shall never be slaves.’ ‘Never mind about that,’ said Woolfork, ‘go and get ready. I shall only wait a few minutes longer.’ She retired with her children. The two white men continued alone. They waited. She returned not. They grew tired of waiting, and followed her to her chamber. There they found their victims beyond the reach of human wickedness, bedded in their blood.”—(Anti-Slavery Record.)
2. Slaveholders ought not to be excluded from the church, it is argued, because their views and feelings on the subject of slavery have been corrupted by the prevalence of this popular sin. They are not, it is maintained, individually responsible—the fault—the sin, the shame attaches to a false public morality. Dr. McClintock offers this objection in the following words: “Their position,” he says, “has the eminent unhappiness of almost necessitating a feeble or corrupt moral sense on this subject; they are carried along by a great movement that absorbs their individuality, so to speak; the personal conscience is lost in[Pg 189] the general sense of the community. The great work to be done is to purify that general sense; not to curse and malign individual slaveholders, but to break up the false public morality in which the system finds its main support.”[22]
We answer that no man is excusable for falling in with a “great movement” which is manifestly wicked. Noah, Lot, Abraham and Elijah were not carried along with sin in this way. Their moral sense was neither enfeebled nor corrupted by the prevailing vices. The apostles did not lose their “personal conscience” in the “general sense” of idolatrous communities, in the midst of which they labored. And in no case does the Bible excuse a sinner because of the prevalence of sin.—Idolaters were not taken into church because that vice was sustained by law and prevailing custom. And he who lived in Corinth in the days of St. Paul, found himself in the midst of gross, shameless sensuality—and it was quite easy for such a person to fall in with the vices for which that city was notorious; and some Christians did fall in with those vic............