Continental Monthly, Vol. I. February, 1862, No. II. written by Various
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Various >> Continental Monthly, Vol. I. February, 1862, No. II.
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20 THE
CONTINENTAL MONTHLY:
DEVOTED TO
LITERATURE AND NATIONAL POLICY.
* * * * *
VOL. I.--FEBRUARY, 1862.--NO. II.
* * * * *
OUR WAR AND OUR WANT.
Can this great republic of our forefathers exist with slavery in it?
Whether we like or dislike the question, it must be answered. As the war
stands, we have gone too far to retreat. It clamors for a brave and
manly solution. Let us see if we can, laying aside all prejudices, all
dislikes whatever, discover an honest course, simply with a view to
preserve the Union and insure its future prosperity. Let us avoid all
foregone conclusions, all extraneous issues, adhering strictly to the
one great need of the hour--how to conquer the foe, reestablish the
Union, and do this in a manner most consonant with our future national
prosperity.
It is manifest enough that in a continent destined at no distant day to
contain its hundred millions, the question whether these shall form one
great nation or a collection of smaller states is one of fearful
importance. He who belongs to a _great_ nation is thereby great of
himself. He has the right to be proud, and will work out his life more
proudly and vigorously and freely than the dweller in a corner-country.
Do those men ever _reflect_, who talk so glibly of this government as
too large, and as one which must inevitably be sundered, to what a
degradation they calmly look forward! No; Union,--come what may,--now
and ever. Greatness is to every brave man a _necessity_. Out on the
craven and base-hearted who aspire to being less than the co-rulers of a
continent. See how vile and mean are those men who in the South have
lost all national pride in a small-minded provincial attachment to a
State, who love their local county better still, and concentrate their
real political interests in the feudal government of a plantation. Shall
_we_ be as such,--_we_, the men who hold the destinies of a hemisphere
within our grasp? Never,--God help us,--_never!_
On the basis of free labor we are pressing onward over the mighty West.
Two great questions now require grappling with. The one is, whether
slavery shall henceforth be tolerated; the other, whether we shall
strengthen this great government of the Union so as to preserve it in
future from the criminal intrigues of would-be seceding, ambitious men
of no principle. Now is the time to decide.
We must not be blind to a great opportunity which may be lost, of
forever quelling a foul nuisance which would, if neglected _now_, live
forever. Do we not see, feel, and understand what sort of _white men_
are developed by slavery, and do we intend to keep up such a race among
us? _Do we want all this work to do over again_ every ten or five years
or all the time? For a quarter of a century, slavery and nothing else
has kept us in a growing fever, and now that it has reached a crisis the
question is whether we shall calm down the patient with cool rose-water.
In the crisis comes a physician who knows the constitution of his
patient, and proposes searching remedies and a thorough cure,--and, lo!
the old nurse cries out that he is interfering and acting unwisely,
though he is quite as willing to adopt her cooling present solace as
she.
If we had walked over the war-course last spring without opposition,--if
we had conquered the South, would we have put an end to this trouble?
Does any one believe that we would? This is not now a question of the
right to hold slaves, or the wrong of so doing. All of that old
abolition jargon went out and died with the present aspect of the war.
So far as nine-tenths of the North ever cared, or do now care, slaves
might have hoed away down in Dixie, until supplanted, as they have been
in the North, by the irrepressible advance of manufactures and small
farms, or by free labor. 'Keep your slaves and hold your tongues,' was,
and would be now, our utterance. But they would not hold their tongues.
It was 'rule or ruin' with them. And if, as it seems, a man can not hold
slaves without being arrogant and unjust to others, we must take his
slaves away.
And why is not this the proper time to urge emancipation? Divested of
all deceitful and evasive turns, the question reduces itself to
this,--are we to definitely conquer the enemy once and for all, the
great enemy Oligarchy, by taking out its very heart? or are we to keep
up this strife with slaveholders forever? It is a great and hard thing
to do, this crushing the difficulty, but we must either do it or be done
for. In a few months 'the tax-gatherer will be around.' If anybody has
read the report of the Secretary of the Treasury without a grave
sensation, he is very fortunate. How would such reports please us
annually for many years? So long as there exists in the Union a body of
men disowning allegiance to it, puffed up in pride, loathing and
scorning the name of free labor, especially as the ally of capital, just
so long will the tax-gatherer be around,--and with a larger bill than
ever.
To such an extent is this arrogance carried of urging utter silence at
present on the subject of slavery, that one might almost question
whether the right of free speech or thought is to be left at all, save
to those who have determined on a certain course of conduct. When it is
remembered that those who wish to definitely conclude this great
national trouble are in the great majority, we stand amazed at the
presumption which forbids them to utter a word. One may almost distrust
his senses to hear it so brazenly urged that because he happens to think
that our fighting and victories may go hand in hand with a measure which
is to prevent future war, he is 'opposed to the Administration,' is 'a
selfish traitor thinking of nothing but the Nigger,' and altogether a
stumbling-block and an untimely meddler. If he protest that he cares no
more for the welfare of the Negro than for that of the man in the moon,
he is still reviled as an 'abolitionist.' If he insist that emancipation
will end the war, his 'conservative' foe becomes pathetic over his
indifference as to what is to become of the four millions of 'poor
blacks.' And, in short, when he urges the great question whether this
country is to tolerate slavery or no, he is met with trivial fribbling
side-issues, every one of which _should_ vanish like foam before the
determined will and onward march of a great, _free_ people.
Now let every friend of the Union boldly assume that _so far as the
settlement of this question is concerned he_ does not care one straw for
the Negro. Leave the Negro out altogether. Let him sink or swim, so far
as this difficulty goes. Men have tried for thirty years to appeal to
humanity, without success, for the Negro, and now let us try some other
expedient. Let us regard him not as a man and a brother, but as 'a
miserable nigger,' if you please, and a nuisance. But whatever he be, if
the effect of owning such creatures is to make the owner an intolerable
fellow, seditious and insolent, it becomes pretty clear that such
ownership should be put an end to. If Mr. Smith can not have a horse
without riding over his neighbor, it is quite time that Smith were
unhorsed, no matter how honestly he may have acquired the animal. And if
the Smiths, father and sons, threaten to keep their horse in spite of
law,--nay, and breed up a race of horses from him, whereon to roughride
everybody who goes afoot,--then it becomes still more imperative that
the Smith family cease cavaliering it altogether.
There is yet another point which the stanch Union-lover must keep in
view. In pushing on the war with heart and soul, we inevitably render
slaveholding at any rate a most precarious institution, and one likely
to be broken up altogether. Seeing this, many unreflectingly ask, 'Why
then meddle with it?' But it _must_ be considered in some way, and
provided for as the war advances, or we shall find ourselves in such an
imbroglio as history never saw the like of. He who cuts down a tree must
take forethought how it may fall, or he will perchance find himself
crushed. He who in a tremendous conflagration would blow up a block of
houses with powder, must, even amid the riot and roar, so manage the
explosion that lives be not wantonly lost. We must clear the chips away
as our work advances. The matter in hand is the war--if you choose,
nothing but the war. But pushing on singly and simply at _the war_
implies _some_ wisdom and a certain regard to the future and to
consequences. The mere abolitionist of the old school, who regards the
Constitution as a league with death and a covenant with hell, may, if he
pleases, see in the war only an opportunity to wreak vengeance on the
South and free the black. But the 'emancipationist' sees this in a very
different light. He sees that we are _not_ fighting for the Negro, or
out of hatred to anybody. He knows that we are fighting to restore the
Union, and that this is the first great thought, to be carried out at
_all_ hazards. But he feels that this carrying out involves some action
at the same time on the great trouble which first caused the war, and
which, if neglected, will prolong the war forever. He feels that the
future of the greatest republic in existence depends on settling this
question now and forever, and that if it be left to the chances of war
to settle itself, there is imminent danger that even a victory may not
prevent a disrupture of the Union. For, disguise it as we may, there is
a vast and uncontrollable body at the North who hate slavery, and pity
the black, and these men will not be silent or inactive. Did the
election of Abraham Lincoln involve nothing of this? We know that it
did. Will this 'extreme left,' this radical party, keep quiet and do
nothing? Why they are the most fiercely active men on our continent. Let
him who would prevent this battle degenerating into a furious strife
between radical abolition and its opponents weigh this matter well.
There are fearful elements at work, which may be neutralized, if we who
fight for the _Union_ will be wise betimes, and remove the bone of
contention.
Above all, let every man bear in mind that, even as the war stands,
something _must_ be done to regulate and settle the Negro question.
After what has been already effected in the border States and South
Carolina, it would be impossible to leave the Negro and his owner in
such an undefined relation as now exists. And yet this very fact--one of
the strongest which can be alleged to prove the necessity of legislation
and order--is cited to prove that the matter will settle itself. Take,
for instance, the following from the correspondence of a daily
cotemporary:--
THE ARMY SPOILING THE SLAVES.--Whatever may be the policy of the
government in regard to the status of the slaves, one thing is
certain, that wherever our army goes, it will most effectually
spoil all the slaves and render them worthless to their masters.
This will be the necessary result, and we think it perfectly
useless to disturb the administration and distract the minds of the
people with the everlasting discussion of this topic. Soon our army
will be in Georgia, Florida, and Louisiana, and the soldiers will
carry with their successful arms an element of liberty that will
infuse itself into every slave in those States. The only hope for
the South, if, indeed, it has not passed away, is to throw down
their arms and submit unconditionally to the government.
That is to say, we are to free the slave, only we must not say so!
Rather than take a bold, manly stand, avow what we are actually doing,
and adopt a measure which would at once conciliate and harmonize the
whole North, we are to suffer a tremendous disorder to spring up and
make mischief without end! Can we never get over this silly dread of
worn-out political abuse and grapple fairly with the truth? Are we
really so much afraid of being falsely called abolitionists and
negro-lovers that we can not act and think like _men!_ Here we are
frightened at _names_, dilly-dallying and quarreling over idle words,
when a tremendous crisis calls for acts. But this can not last forever.
Something must be done right speedily for the myriad of blacks whom we
shall soon have on our hands. Barracooning contrabands by thousands may
do for the present, but how as to the morrow? Let it be repeated again
and again, that they who argue against touching the Negro question _at
present_ are putting off from day to day an evil which becomes terrible
as it is delayed. It can _not_ be let alone. Already those in power at
Washington are terrified at its extent, but fear to act, owing to
'abolition,' while all the time the foul old political ties and
intrigues are gathering closely about. Let us cut the knot betimes, act
bravely and manfully, and settle the difficulty ere it settles us.
Something must be done, and that right early.
But what is to become of the freed blacks? Again and again does this
preposterous bugbear rise up to prove, by the terror which it excites,
the vast ignorance of the subject which prevails in this country, and
the small amount of deliberate reasoning generally bestowed on matters
of the most vital importance. Reader, if you would answer it, go to
facts. You have probably all your life accepted as true the statement
that the black when free promptly becomes an idle, worthless vagabond.
You have believed that a _majority_ of the free blacks in the North are
good for nothing. Now I tell you calmly and deliberately, and
challenging inquiry, that _this is not true_. Admitting that about
one-fifth of them are so, you have but a weak argument. As for the
forlorn, unacclimated exiles in Canada, where there is no demand for the
labor which they are peculiarly fit to render, they are not a case in
point. The black servants, cooks, barbers, white-washers, carpet-beaters
and grooms of Baltimore and Philadelphia, which form the four-fifths
majority of free blacks in those cities, are not idle vagabonds. Above
all, reader, I beg of you to read the dispassionate and calmly written
_Cotton Kingdom_ of Frederick Law Olmstead, recently published by Mason
Brothers, of New York. You will there find the fact set forth by closest
observation that the negroes in part are indeed lazy vagabonds, but that
the majority, when allowed to work for themselves, and when free, _do_
work, and that right steadily. In the Virginia tobacco factories slaves
can earn on an average as much money for themselves, in the 'over hours'
allowed them, as the manufacturer pays their owner for their services
during the day. There are cases in which slaves, hired for one hundred
dollars a year, have made for themselves three hundred.[A]
[Footnote A: 'If the slaves be emancipated, what with their own natural
ability and such aids and appliances as the government and 20,000,000 of
people in the North can furnish, I do not believe but that they will get
employment, and pay, and, of course, subsistence.'--HON. GEORGE S.
BOUTWELL.]
But the vagabond surplus,--the minority? Is it possible that with Union
or disunion before us we can hesitate as to taking on this incumbrance?
In a hard-working land vagabonds must die off,--'tis a hard case, but
the emergency for the white men of this and a coming age is much harder.
After all, there are only some fifteen hundred or two thousand lazy free
negroes in New York city,--the climate, we are told, is too severe for
them,--and this among well-nigh a million of inhabitants. We think it
would be possible to find one single alderman in that city who has
wasted as much capital, and injured the commonwealth quite as much, in
one year, as all the negroes there put together, during the same time.
It would be absurd to imagine that the emancipation of every negro in
America to-morrow would add one million idlers and vagabonds to our
population. _But what if it did?_ Would their destiny or injury to us be
of such tremendous importance that we need for it peril our welfare as a
nation? The standing armies of Germany absorb about one-fifth of the
entire capital of the land. Better one million of negative negroes than
a million of positive soldiers!
There was never yet in history a time when such a glorious future
offered itself to a nation as that which is now within our grasp. In its
greatness and splendor it is beyond all description. The great problem
of Republicanism--the question of human progress--has reached its last
trial. If we keep this mighty nation one and inseparable, we shall have
answered it forever; if not, why then those who revile man as vile and
irreclaimably degraded may raise their paeans of triumph; the black
spectres of antique tyrants may clap their hands gleefully in the land
of accursed shadows, and hell hold high carnival, for, verily, it would
seem as if they had triumphed, and that hope were a lie.
But who are they who dare accuse us of wishing to weaken the
administration and impede its course? Bring the question to light! If
there be one thing more than another which those who demand emancipation
desire, it is that the central government should be _strengthened_--aye,
strengthened as it has never been before; so that, in future, there can
be no return of secession. We have never been a republic--only an
aggregate of smaller republics. If we _had_ been one, the first movement
toward disunion would have hurled the traitors urging it to the dust.
Aye, strengthen the government; and let its first manifestation of
strength and will be the settling of the negro question. Give the
administration as full power as you please--the more the better; it is
only conferring strength on the people. There is no danger that the men
of the North will ever lose a shadow of individual rights. They are too
powerful.
And now let the freemen of America speak, and the work will be done. A
great day is at hand; hasten it. The hour which sees this Union
re-united will witness the most glorious triumph of humanity,--the
greatest step towards realizing the social aim of Christianity, and of
Him who died for all,--the recognition of the rights of every one.
Onward!
* * * * *
BROWN'S LECTURE TOUR.
I.--HOW HE CAME TO DO IT.
My last speculation had proved a failure. I was left with a stock of
fifty impracticable washing-machines on my hands, and a cash capital of
forty-four cents. With the furniture of my room, these constituted my
total assets. I had an unsettled account of forty dollars with Messrs.
Roller & Ems, printers, for washing-machine circulars, cards, etc.;
and--
Rap, rap, rap!
[_Enter boy_.]
'Mr. Peck says as how you'll please call around to his office and settle
up this afternoon, sure.'
[_Exit boy_.]
_New York, Nov. 30, 1859_.
Mr. GREEN D. BROWN,
_TO_ JOHN PECK, _Dr_.
_To Rent of Room to date_ $9 00
_Rec'd Pay't_,
I came to the emphatic conclusion that I was 'hard up.'
I kept bachelor's hall in Franklin Street, in apartments not altogether
sumptuous, yet sufficiently so for my purposes,--to wit, to sit in and
to sleep in; and inasmuch as I took my meals amid the gilded splendors
of the big saloon on the corner of Broadway, I was not disposed to
reproach myself with squalor. Yet the articles of furniture in my room
were so far removed, separately or in the aggregate, from anything like
the superfluous, that when I calmly deliberated what to part with, there
was nothing which struck me as a luxury or a comfort as distinct from a
necessary of life. I took a second mental inventory: two common chairs,
a table, a mirror, a rocking-chair, a bed, a lounge, and a single
picture on the wall.
I declare, thought I, here's nothing to spare.
But things were getting to a crisis. I must 'make a raise,' somehow.
Borrow? Ah, certainly--where was the benevolent moneyed individual? My
credit had gone with my cash; both were sunk in the washing-machines.
I lighted my pipe, and surveyed my household goods once more.
There was the picture: couldn't I do without that?
Possibly. But that picture I had had--let me see--fifteen, yes, sixteen
years. That picture was a third prize for excellence in declamation,
presented me at the school exhibition in ---- Street, when I was twelve
years old. That was in 1843, and here, on the first of December, 1859, I
sat deliberately meditating its sale for paltry bread and butter!
No, no; I'd go hungry a little longer, before I'd part with that old
relic--remembrancer of the proudest day of my life. What a pity I hadn't
permitted that day to give a direction to my life, instead of turning my
attention to the paltry expedients for money-making followed by the
common herd! I might have been an accomplished orator by this time,
capable of drawing crowds and pocketing a thousand a month, or so. But
my tastes had run in other channels since the day when I took that
prize.
Still, when I thought of it deliberately, I made bold to believe there
was that yet in me which could meet the expectant eyes of audiences nor
quail before them.
A thought struck me! Was not here an 'opening' for an enterprising young
man? Was not the lecture-season at hand? Did not lecturers get from ten
to two hundred dollars per night? Couldn't I talk off a lecture with the
best of them, perhaps? Well, perhaps I could, and perhaps not, but if I
wouldn't try it on, I hoped I might be blessed--that--was all.
I thought proper, after having reached this conclusion, to calculate my
wealth in the way of preliminary requisites to success. By preliminary
requisites to success, I mean those which lead to the securing of
invitations to lecture. I flattered myself that all matters consequent
to this point in my career would very readily turn themselves to my
advantage. The preliminary requisites were as follows:--
1. _Notoriety_. I could boast of nothing in this line. I had no
reputation whatever. I had never written a line for publication.
When I had satisfied myself that I lacked this grand requisite, I turned
my attention to the subject again only to find that No. 1 was quite
alone in its glory. It was the Alpha and Omega of the preliminary
requisites. I should never be able to get a solitary invitation.
Here I was for a moment disheartened; but, persevering in my
newly-assumed part of literary philosopher, I proceeded to the
consideration of the consequent requisites:--
1. _Literary ability_. To say the truth, my literary abilities had
hitherto been kept in the background. I was glad they were now going to
come forward. For present purposes, it was sufficient that the Astor
Library was handy, and that I could string words together respectably.
2. _Oratorical ability_. As already indicated, I was conscious of no
mean alloy of the Demosthenic gold tempering the baser metal of my
general composition. My voice was deep and strong.
3. _Facial brass_. I felt brazen enough to set up a bell-foundery on my
personal curve. My cheeks were of that metalline description that never
knew a blush, before an audience of one or many.
4. _Personal appearance_. I consulted my mirror on that point. It showed
me a young man of only twenty-eight, and tall and shapely proportions; a
well-dressed young man, with light-colored hair, prominent nose, and
heavy red beard and moustache. I twisted the latter institution
undecidedly, and ventured the belief that by shaving myself clean and
bridging my nose with a pair of black-bowed spectacles I could pass
muster.
The result total was satisfactory. I resolved to disregard the
preliminary respecting invitations, and to make a modest effort of my
own to secure an audience, by going into the country, and advertising
myself in proper form. I commenced the work of writing a lecture
forthwith; and in a few days I had ready what I deemed a rather superior
production.
II.--HOW HE PROCEEDED TO DO IT.
I gave up my lodgings in town, sold all my salable possessions, settled
up with my landlord, paid my printers in the usual way (i.e., with
promises), and, supplied with a satchel-full of hand-bills (from a rival
establishment), started for the country. My ticket was for Sidon--a
place I knew nothing whatever about; the only circumstance of a positive
character connected with it was, that it was the farthest point from New
York which I could reach by the Rattle and Smash Railroad for the net
amount of funds in my pocket. I stepped into the streets of Sidon with a
light heart, and looked out on the scene of my contemplated triumph. I
made up my mind at once that if ancient Sidon was no more of a place
than modern Sidon, it couldn't lay claim to being much of a town. The
houses, including shops and stores, would not exceed one hundred. I
walked to the tavern, and delivered my satchel to the custody of a
rough-looking animal, whom I subsequently found to be landlord, hostler,
bar-tender, table-waiter, and general manager-at-all-work. He was a very
uninviting subject; but, being myself courteously inclined, and having
also a brisk eye to business, I inquired if there was a public hall or
lecture-room in the place.
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