The Collected Works of Theodore Parker/Volume 05/Discourse 06

THE FUNCTION AND PLACE OF CONSCIENCE, IN RELATION TO THE LAWS OF MEN:
A SERMON FOR THE TIMES.

PREACHED AT THE MELODEON, ON SUNDAY, SEPT. 22, 1850.


Herein do I exercise myself to have always a conscience void of offence toward God and toward men.—Acts xxiv, 16.

There are some things which are true, independent of all human opinions. Such things we call facts. Thus it is true that one and one are equal to two, that the earth moves round the sun, that all men have certain natural unalienable rights, rights which a man can alienate only for himself, and not for another. No man made these things true; no man can make them false. If all the men in Jerusalem and ever so many more, if all the men in the world, were to pass a unanimous vote that one and one were not equal to two, that the earth did not move round the sun, that all men had not natural and unalienable rights, the opinion would not alter the fact, nor make truth false and falsehood true.

So there are likewise some things which are right, independent of all human opinions. Thus it is right to love a man and not to hate him, to do him justice and not injustice, to allow him the natural rights which he has not alienated. No man made these things right; no man can make them wrong. If all the men in Jerusalem and ever so many more, if all the men in the world, were to pass a unanimous vote that it was right to hate a man and not love him, right to do him injustice and not justice, right to deprive him of his natural rights not alienated by himself, the opinion would not alter the fact, nor make right wrong and wrong right.

There are certain constant and general facts which occur in the material world, the world of external perception, which represent what are called the laws of matter, in virtue of which things take place so and not otherwise. These laws are the same everywhere and always; they never change. They are not made by men, but only discovered by men, are inherent in the constitution of matter, and seem designed to secure the welfare of the material world. These natural laws of matter, inherent in its constitution, are never violated, nor can be, for material nature is passive, or at least contains no element or will that is adverse to the will of God, the ultimate Cause of these laws as of matter itself. The observance of these laws is a constant fact of the universe; "the most ancient heavens thereby are fresh and strong." These laws represent the infinity of God in the world of matter. His infinite power, wisdom, justice, love, and holiness.

So there are likewise certain constant and general facts which occur in what may be called the spiritual world, the world of internal consciousness. They represent the laws of spirit—that is, of the human spirit—in virtue of which things are designed to take place so and not otherwise. These laws are the same everywhere and always; they never change. They are not made by men, but only discovered by men. They are inherent in the constitution of man, and as you cannot conceive of a particle of matter without extension, impenetrability, figure, and so on, no more can you conceive of man without these laws inhering in him. They seem designed to secure the welfare of the spiritual world. They represent the infinity of God in the world of man. His infinite power, wisdom, justice, love, and holiness. But while matter is stationary, bound by necessity, and man is progressive and *partially free, to the extent of a certain tether, so it is plain that there may be a will in the world of man adverse to the will of God, and thus the laws of man's spirit may be violated to a certain extent. The laws of matter depend for their execution only on the infinite will of God, and so cannot be violated. The laws of man depend for their execution also on the finite will of man, and so may be broken.[1]

Let us select a portion of these laws of the human spirit; such as relate to a man’s conduct in dealing with his fellowmen, a portion of what are commonly called moral laws, and examine them. They partake of the general characteristics mentioned above; they are universal and unchangeable, are only discovered and not made by man, are inherent in man, designed to secure his welfare, and represent the infinity of God. These laws are absolutely right; to obey them is to be and do absolutely right. So being and doing, a man answers the moral purpose of his existence, and attains moral manhood. If I and all men keep all the laws of man^s spirit, I have peace in my own heart, peace with my brother, peace with my God; I have my delight in myself, in my brother, in my God, they theirs and God His in me.

What is absolutely right is commonly called justice. It is the point in morals common to me and all mankind, common to me and God, to mankind and God; the point where all duties unite—to myself, my brethren, and my God; the point where all interests meet and balance—my interests, those of mankind, and the interests of God. When justice is done, all is harmony and peaceful progress in the world of man; but when justice is not done, the reverse follows, discord and confusion; for injustice is not the point where all duties and all interests meet and balance, not the point of morals common to mankind and me, or to us and God.

We may observe and study the constant facts of the material world, thus learn the laws they represent, and so get at a theory of the world which is founded on the facts thereof. Such a theory is true; it represents the thought of God, the infinity of God. Then for every point of theory we have a point of fact. Instead of pursuing this course we may neglect these constant facts, with the laws they represent, and forge a theory which shall not rest on these facts. Such a theory will be false and will represent the imperfection of men, and not the facts of the universe and the infinity of God.

In like manner we may study the constant facts of the spiritual world, and, in special, of man^s moral nature, and thereby obtain a rule to regulate our conduct. If this rule is founded on the constant facts of man^s moral nature, then it will be absolutely right, and represent justice, the thought of God, the infinity of God, and for every point of moral theory we shall have a moral fact. Instead of pursuing that course, we may forge a rule for our conduct, and so get a theory which shall not rest on those facts. Such a rule will be wrong, representing only the imperfection of men.

In striving to learn the laws of the universe, the wisest men often go astray, propound theories which do not rest upon facts, and lay down human rules for the conduct of the universe, which do not agree with its nature. But the universe is not responsible for that; material nature takes no notice thereof. The opinion of an astronomer, of the American academy, does not alter a law of the material universe, or a fact therein. The philosophers once thought that the sun went round the earth, and framed laws on that assumption; but that did not make it a fact; the sun did not go out of his way to verify the theory, but kept to the law of God, and swung the earth round him once a year, say the philosophers what they might say, leaving them to learn the fact and thereby correct their theory.

In the same way, before men attain the knowledge of the absolute right, they often make theories which do not rest upon the fact of man's moral nature, and enact human rules for the conduct of men which do not agree with the moral nature of man. These are rules which men make and do not find made. They are not a part of man's moral nature, writ therein, and so obligatory thereon, no more than the false rules for the conduct of matter are writ therein, and so obligatory thereon. You and I are no more morally bound to keep such rules of conduct, because King Pharaoh or King People say we shall, than the sun is materially bound to go round the earth every day, because Hipparchus and Ptolemy say it does. The opinion or command of a king, or a people, can no more change a fact and alter a law of man's nature, than the opinion of a philosopher can do this in material nature.

We learn the laws of matter slowly, by observation, experiment, and induction, and only get an outside knowledge thereof, as objects of thought. In the same way we might study the facts of man’s moral nature, and arrive at rules of conduct, and get a merely outside acquaintance with the moral law as something wholly external. The law might appear curious, useful, even beautiful, moral gravitation as wonderful as material attraction. But no sense of duty would attach us to it. In addition to the purely intellectual powers, we have a faculty whose special function it is to discover the rules for a man’s moral conduct. This is conscience, called also by many names. As the mind has for its object absolute truth, so conscience has for its object absolute justice. Conscience enables us not merely to learn the right by experiment and induction, but intuitively, and in advance of experiment; so, in addition to the experimental way, whereby we learn justice from the facts of human history, we have a transcendental way, and learn it from the facts of human nature, from immediate consciousness.

It is the function of conscience to discover to men the moral law of God. It will not do this with infallible certainty, for, at its best estate, neither conscience nor any other faculty of man is absolutely perfect, so as never to mistake. Absolute perfection belongs only to the faculties of God. But conscience, like each other faculty, is relatively perfect,—is adequate to the purpose God meant it for. It is often immature in the young, who have not had time for the growth and ripening of the faculty, and in the old, who have checked and hindered its development. Here it is feeble from neglect, there from abuse. It may give an imperfect answer to the question. What is absolutely right?

Now, though the conscience of a man lacks the absolute perfection of that of God, in all that relates to my dealing with men, it is still the last standard of appeal. I will hear what my friends have to say, what public opinion has to offer, what the best men can advise me to, then I am to ask my own conscience, and follow its decision; not that of my next friend, the public, or the best of men. I will not say that my conscience will always disclose to me the absolutely right, according to the conscience of God, but it will disclose the relatively right, what is my conviction of right to-day, with all the light I can get on the matter; and as all I can know of the absolute right, is my conviction thereof, so I must be true to that conviction. Then I am faithful to my own conscience, and faithful to my God. If I do the best thing I can know to-day, and to-morrow find a better one and do that, I am not to be blamed, nor to be called a sinner against God, because not so just today as I shall be to-morrow. I am to do God^s will soon as I know it, not before, and to take all possible pains to find it out; but am not to blame for acting childish when a child, nor to be ashamed of it when grown up to be a man. Such is the function of conscience.

Having determined what is absolutely right, by the conscience of God, or at least relatively right, according to my conscience to-day, then it becomes my duty to keep it. I owe it to God to obey His law, or what I deem His law; that is my duty. It may be uncomfortable to keep it, unpopular, contrary to my present desires, to my passions, to my immediate interests; it may conflict with my plans in life; that makes no difference. I owe entire allegiance to my God. It is a duty to keep His law, a personal duty, my duty as a man. I owe it to myself, for I am to keep the integrity of my own consciousness; I owe it to my brother, and to my God. Nothing can absolve me from this duty, neither the fact that it is uncomfortable or unpopular, nor that it conflicts with my desires, my passions, my immediate interests, and my plans in life. Such is the place of conscience amongst other faculties of my nature.

I believe all this is perfectly plain, but now see what it leads to. In the complicated relations of human life, various rules for the moral conduct of men have been devised, some of them in the form of statute laws, some in the form of customs; and, in virtue of these rules, certain artificial demands are made of men, which have no foundation in the moral nature of man; these demands are thought to represent duties. We have the same word to describe what I ought to do as subject to the law of God, and what is demanded of me by custom, or the statute. We call each a duty. Hence comes no small confusion: the conventional and official obligation is thought to rest on the same foundation as the natural and personal duty. As the natural duty is at first sight a little vague^ and not written out in the law-book, or defined by custom, while the conventional obligation is well understood, men think that in case of any collision between the two, the natural duty must give way to the official obligation.

For clearness' sake, the natural and personal obligation to keep the law of God as my conscience declares it, I will call Duty; the conventional and official obligation to comply with some custom, keep some statute, or serve some special interest, I will call Business. Here then are two things—my natural and personal duty, my conventional and official business. Which of the two shall give way to the other,—personal duty or official business? Let it be remembered that I am a man first of all, and all else that I am is but a modification of my manhood, which makes me a clergyman, a fisherman, or a statesman; but the clergy, the fish, and the state, are not to strip me of my manhood. They are valuable in so far as they serve my manhood, not as it serves them. My official business as clergyman, fisherman, or statesman, is always beneath my personal duty as man. In case of any conflict between the two, the natural duty ought to prevail and carry the day before the official business; for the natural duty represents the permanent law of God, the absolute right, justice, the balance-point of all interests; while the official business represents only the transient conventions of men, some partial interest; and besides, the man who owes the personal duty is immortal, while the officer who performs the official business is but for a time. At death, the man is to be tried by the justice of God, for the deeds done, and character attained, for his natural duty, but he does not enter the next life as a clergyman, with his surplice and prayer-book, or a fisherman, with his angles and net, nor yet as a statesman, with his franking privilege, and title of honourable and member of Congress. The officer dies, of a vote or a fever. The man lives for ever. From the relation between a man and his occupation, it is plain, in general, that all conventional and official business is to be overruled by natural personal duty. This is the great circle, drawn by God, and discovered by conscience, which girdles my sphere, including all the smaller circles, and itself included by none of them. The law of God has eminent domain everywhere, over the private passions of Oliver and Charles, the special interests of Carthage and of Rome, over all customs, all official business, all precedents, all human statutes, all treaties between Judas and Pilate, or England and France, over all the conventional affairs of one man or of mankind. My own conscience is to declare that law for me, yours for you, and is before all private passions, or public interests, the decision of majorities, and a world full of precedents. You may resign your office, and escape its obligations, forsake your country, and owe it no allegiance, but you cannot move out of the dominions of God, nor escape where conscience has not eminent domain.

See some examples of a conflict between the personal duty and the official business. A man may be a clergyman, and it may be his official business to expound and defend the creed which is set up for him by his employers, his bishop, his association, or his parish, to defend and hold it good against all comers; it may be, also, in a certain solemn sort, to please the audience, who come to be soothed, caressed, and comforted,—to represent the average of religion in his society, and so to bless popular virtues and ban unpopular vices, but never to shake off or even jostle with one of his fingers the load of sin, beloved and popular, which crushes his hearers down till they are bowed together and can in nowise lift themselves up; unpopular excellence he is to call fanaticism, if not infidelity. But his natural duty as a man, standing in this position, overrides his official business, and commands him to tell men of the false things in their creed, of great truths not in it; commands him to inform his audience with new virtue, to represent all of religion he can attain, to undo the heavy burdens of popular sin, private or national, and let the men oppressed therewith go free. Excellence, popular or odious, he is to commend by its own name, to stimulate men to all nobleness of character and hfe, whether it please or offend. This is his duty, however uncomfortable, unpopular, against his desires, and conflicting with his immediate interests and plans of life. Which shall he do? His official business, and pimp and pander to the public lust, with base compliance serving the popular idols, which here are money and respectability, or shall he serve his God? That is the question. If the man considers himself substantially a man, and accidentally a clergyman, he will perform his natural duty; if he counts the priesthood his substance, and manhood an accident of that, he will do only his official business.

I may be a merchant, and my official business may be to buy, and sell, and get gain; I may see that the traffic in ardent spirits is the readiest way to accomplish this. So it becomes my official business to make rum, sell rum, and by all means to induce men to drink it. But presently I see that the common use of it makes the thriving unthrifty, the rich less wealthy, the poor miserable, the sound sick, and the sane mad; that it brings hundreds to the jail, thousands to the alms-house, and millions to poverty and shame, producing an amount of suffering, wretchedness, and sin, beyond the power of man to picture or conceive. Then my natural duty as man is very clear, very imperative. Shall I sacrifice my manhood to money?—the integrity of my consciousness to my gains by rum-selling? That is the question. And my answer will depend on the fact, whether I am more a man or more a rum-seller. Suppose I compromise the matter, and draw a line somewhere between my natural duty as man, and my official business as rum-seller, and for every three cents that I make by iniquity, give one cent to the American Tract Society, or the Board for Foreign Missions, or the Unitarian Association, or the excellent Society for promoting the Gospel among the Indians (and others) in North America. That does not help the matter; business is not satisfied, though I draw the line never so near to money; nor conscience, unless the line comes up to my duty.

I am a citizen, and the State says, "You must obey all the statutes made by the proper authorities; that is your official business!" Suppose there is a statute adverse to the natural law of God, and the convictions of my own conscience, and I plead that fact in abatement of my obligation to keep the statute, the State says, '^ Obey it none the less, or we will hang you. Religion is an excellent thing in every matter except politics; there it seems to make men mad." Shall I keep the commandment of men, or the law of my God?

A statute was once enacted by King Pharaoh for the destruction of the Israelites in Egypt; it was made the official business of all citizens to aid in their destruction: "Pharaoh charged all his people saying, Every son that is born ye shall cast into the river, and every daughter ye shall save alive." It was the official business of every Egyptian who found a Hebrew boy to throw him into the Nile,—if he refused, he offended against the peace and dignity of the kingdom of Egypt, and the form of law in such case made and provided. But if he obeyed, he murdered a man. Which should he obey, the Lord Pharaoh, or the Lord God? That was the question. I make no doubt that the priests of Osiris, Orus, Apis, Isis, and the judges, and the justices of the peace and quorum, and the members of Congress of that time, said, "Keep the king's commandment, ye that worship the crocodile and fear the cat, or ye shall not sleep in a whole skin any longer!" So said everything that loveth and maketh a lie.

King Charles II. made a statute some one hundred and ninety years ago, to punish with death the remnant of the nine-and-fifty judges who had brought his father's head to the block, teaching kings "that they also had a joint in their necks." He called on all his subjects to aid in the capture of these judges. It was made their official business as citizens to do so; a reward was offered for the apprehension of some of them "alive or dead;" punishment hung over the head of any who should harbour or conceal them. Three of these regicides, who had adjudged a king for his felony, came to New England. Many Americans knew where they were, and thought the condemnation of Charles I. was the best thing these judges ever did. With that conviction ought they to have delivered up these fugitives, or afforded them shelter? In time of peril, when officers of the English government were on the look-out for some of these men, a clergyman in the town where one of them was concealed, preached, it is said, on the text "Bewray not him that wandereth," an occasional sermon, and put the duty of a man far before the business of a citizen. When Sir Edmund Andros was at New Haven looking after one of the judges, and attended public worship in the same meeting-house with the fugitive, the congregation sung an awful hymn in his very ears.[2]

Would the men of Connecticut have done right, bewraying him that wandered, and exposing the outcast, to give up the man who had defended the liberties of the world and the rights of mankind against a tyrant,—give him up because a wanton king, and his loose men and loose women, made such a commandment? One of the regicides dwelt in peace eight-and-twenty years in New England, a monument of the virtue of the people.

Of old time the Roman statute commanded the Christians to sacrifice to Jupiter; they deemed it the highest sin to do so, but it was their official business as Roman citizens. Some of them were true to their natural duty as men, and took the same cross Jesus had borne before them; Peter and John had said at their outset to the authorities—"Whether it be right in the sight of God to hearken unto you more than unto God, judge ye." The Emperor once made it the official business of every citizen to deliver up the Christians. But God made it no man^s duty. Nay, it was each man's duty to help them. In such cases what shall a man do? You know what we think of men who comply basely, and save their life with the loss of their soul. You know how the Christian world honours the saints and martyrs, who laid down their lives for the sake of truth and right; a handful of their dust, which was quieted of its trouble by the headsman's axe seventeen hundred years ago, and is now gathered from the catacombs of Saint Agnes at Rome—why it is enough to consecrate half of the Catholic churches in New England. As I have stood among their graves, have handled the instruments with which they tasted of bitter death, and crumbled their bones in my hands,—I keep their relics still with reverent awe,—I have thought there was a little difference between their religion, and the pale decency that haunts the churches of our time, and is afraid lest it lose its dividends, or its respectability, or hurt its usefulness, which is in no danger.

Do I speak of martyrs for conscience' sake? To-day is St Maurice's day, consecrated to him and the "Thebaean legion." Maurice appears to have been a military tribune in the Christian legion, levied in the Thebais, a part of Egypt. In the latter part of the third century this legion was at Octodurum, near the little village of Martigni, in Valais, a Swiss Canton, under the command of Maximian, the associate emperor, just then named Herculeus, going to fight the Bagaudae. The legion was ordered to sacrifice to the gods after the heathen fashion. The soldiers refused; every tenth man was hewn down by Maximian's command. They would not submit, and so the whole legion, as the Catholic story tells us, perished there on the 22nd of September, fifteen hundred and fifty-three years ago this day. Perhaps the account is not true; it is probable that the number of martyrs is much exaggerated, for six hundred soldiers would not stand still and be slaughtered without striking a blow. But the fact that the Catholic church sets apart one day in the calendar to honour this alleged heroism, shows the value men put on fidelity to conscience in such cases.

Last winter a bill for the capture of fugitive slaves was introduced into the Senate of the United States of America; the senator who so ably represented the opinions and wishes of the controlling men of this city, proposed to support that bill, "with all its provisions to the fullest extent;" that bill, with various alterations, some for the better, others for the worse, has become a law—it received the vote of the Representative from Boston, who was not sent there, I hope, for the purpose of voting for it. That statute allows the slave-holder, or his agent, to come here, and by summary process seize a fugitive slave, and, without the formality of a trial by jury, to carry him back to eternal bondage. The statute makes it the official business of certain magistrates to aid in enslaving a man; it empowers them to call out force enough to overcome any resistance which may be offered, to summon the bystanders to aid in that work. It provides a punishment for any one who shall aid and abet, directly or indirectly, and harbour or conceal the man who is seeking to maintain his natural and unalienable right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. He may be fined a thousand dollars, imprisoned six months, and be liable to a civil action for a thousand dollars more!

This statute is not to be laid to the charge of the slaveholders of the South alone; its most effective supporters are Northern men; Boston is more to be blamed for it than Charleston or Savannah, for nearly a thousand persons of this city and neighbourhood, most of them men of influence through money if by no other means, addressed a letter of thanks to the distinguished man who had volunteered to support that infamous bill, telling him that he had "convinced the understanding and touched the conscience of the nation." A man falls low when he consents to be a slave, and is spurned for his lack of manhood; to consent to be a catcher of fugitive slaves is to fall lower yet; but to consent to be the defender of a slave-catcher—it is seldom that human nature is base enough for that. But such examples are found in this city! This is now the law of the land. It is the official business of judges, commissioners, and marshals, as magistrates, to execute the statute and deliver a fugitive up to slavery; it is your official business and mine, as citizens, when legally summoned, to aid in capturing the man. Does the command make it any man's duty? The natural duty to keep the law of God overrides the obligation to observe any human statute, and continually commands us to love a man and not hate him, to do him justice, and not injustice, to allow him his natural rights not alienated by himself; yes, to defend him in them, not only by all means legal, but by all means moral.

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

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

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

One thing more I think is very plain, that the fugitive has the same natural right to defend himself against the slave-catcher, or his constitutional tool, that he has against a murderer or a wolf. The man who attacks me to reduce me to slavery, in that moment of attack alienates his right to life, and if I were the fugitive, and could escape in no other way, I would kill him with as little compunction as I would drive a mosquito from my face. It is high time this was said. What grasshoppers we are before the statute of men! what Goliaths against the law of God! What capitalist heeds your statute of usury when he can get illegal interest? How many banks are content with six per cent, when money is scarce? Did you never hear of a merchant evading the duties of the custom-house? When a man's liberty is concerned, we must keep the law, must we? betray the wanderer, and expose the outcast? [3] In the same manner the natural duty of a man overrides all the special obligations which a man takes on him-

self as a magistrate by his official oath. Our theory of office is this: The man is sunk in the magistrate; he

is un homme convert; his individual manhood is covered up and extinguished by his official cap; he is no longer a man, but a mere president, general, governor, representative, sheriff, juror, or constable; he is absolved from all allegiance to God’s law of the universe when it conflicts with mans law of the land; his official business as a magistrate supersedes his natural duty as a man. In virtue of this theory, President Polk, and his coadjutors in Congress and out of it, with malice, afore-thought, and intent to rob and to kill, did officially invade Mexico, and therein "slay, kill, and murder" some thousands of men, as well Americans as Mexicans. This is thought right because he did it officially. But the fact that he and they were magistrates, doing official business, did not make the killing any the less a wrong than if he and they had been private men, with General Lopez and not General Taylor to head or back them. The official killing of a man who has not alienated his right to life, is just as much violation of the law of God, and the natural duty of man, as the un-official killing of such a person. Because you and I and some other foolish people put a man in a high office, and get him to take an oath, does that, all at once, invest him with a natural right to kill anybody he sees fit; to kill an innocent Mexican? All his natural rights he had before.

and it would be difficult to ascertain where the people could find the right to authorize him to do a wrong. A man does not escape from the jurisdiction of natural law and the dominion of God by enlisting in the army, or by taking the oath of the President; for justice, the law paramount of the universe, extends over armies and nations.

A little while ago a murderer was hanged in Boston, by the Sheriff of Suffolk county, at the command of the Governor and Council of Massachusetts, by the aid of certain persons called grand and petit jurors, all of them acting in their official capacity, and doing the official business they had sworn to do. If it be a wrong thing to hang a man, or to take his life except in self defence, and while in imminent peril, then it is not any less a wrong because men do it in their official character, in compliance with their oath. I am speaking of absolute wrong, not merely what is wrong relatively to the man^s own judgment, for I doubt not that all those officers were entirely conscientious in what they did, and therefore no blame rests on them. But if a man believes it wrong to take human life deliberately, except in the cases named, then I do not see how, with a good conscience, he can be partaker in the death of any man, not-withstanding his official oath.

Let me suppose a case which may happen here, and before long. A woman ffies from South Carolina to Massachusetts to escape from bondage. Mr Greatheart aids her in her escape, harbours and conceals her, and is brought to trial for it. The punishment is a fine of one thousand dollars and imprisonment for six months. I am drawn to serve as a juror, and pass upon this offence. I may refuse to serve, and be punished for that, leaving men with no scruples to take my place, or I may take the juror^s oath to give a verdict according to the law and the testimony. The law is plain, let us suppose, and the testimony conclusive. Greatheart himself confesses that he did the deed alleged, saving one ready to perish. The judge charges, that if the jurors are satisfied of that fact, then they must return that he is guilty. This is a nice matter. Here are two questions. The one, put to me in my official capacity as juror, is this: "Did Greatheart aid the woman?" The other, put to me in my natural character as man, is this: "Will you help punish Greatheart with fine and imprisonment for helping a woman obtain her unalienable rights?" I am to answer both. If I have extinguished my manhood by my juror’s oath, then I shall do my official business and find Greatheart guilty, and I shall seem to be a true man; but if I value my manhood, I shall answer after my natural duty to love a man and not hate him, to do him justice, not injustice, to allow him the natural rights he has not alienated, and shall say "Not guilty." Then foolish men, blinded by the dust of courts, may call me forsworn and a liar; but I think human nature will justify the verdict.[4] In cases of this kind, when justice is on one side and the court on the other, it seems to me a conscientious man must either refuse to serve as a juror, or else return a verdict at variance with the facts and what courts declare to be his official business as juror; but the eyes of some men have been so long blinded by what the court declares is the law, and by its notion of the juror's function, that they will help inflict such a punishment on their brother, and the judge decree the sentence, in a case where the arrest, the verdict, and the sentence are the only wrong in which the prisoner is concerned. It seems to me it is time this matter should be understood, and that it should be known that no official oath can take a man out of the jurisdiction of God's natural law of the universe.

A case may be brought before a commissioner or judge of the United States, to determine whether Daniel is a slave, and therefore to be surrendered up. His official business, sanctioned by his oath, enforced by the law of the land, demands the surrender; his natural duty, sanctioned by his conscience, enforced by absolute justice, forbids the surrender. What shall he do? There is no serving of God and Mammon both. He may abandon his commission and refuse to remain thus halting between two opposites. But if he keeps his office, I see not how he can renounce his nature and send back a fugitive slave, and do as great a wrong as to make a freeman a slave!

Suppose the Constitution had been altered, and Congress had made a law, making it the business of the United States' commissioners to enslave and sell at public outcry all the red-haired men in the nation, and forbid us to aid and abet their escape, to harbour and conceal them, under the same penalties just now mentioned; do you think any commissioner would be justified before God by his oath in kidnapping the red-haired men, or any person in punishing such as harboured or concealed them, such as forcibly took the victims out of the hand of officials who would work mischief by statute? Will the colour of a hair make right wrong, and wrong right?

Suppose a man has sworn to keep the Constitution of the United States, and the Constitution is found to be wrong in certain particulars: then his oath is not morally binding, for before his oath, by his very existence, he is morally bound to keep the law of God as fast as he learns it. No oath can absolve him from his natural allegiance to God. Yet I see not how a man can knowingly, and with a good conscience, swear to keep what he deems wrong to keep, and will not keep, and does not intend to keep.

It seems to me very strange that men so misunderstand the rights of conscience and their obligations to obey their country. Not long ago, an eminent man taunted one of his opponents, telling him he had better adhere to the "higher law." The newspapers echoed the sneer, as if there were no law higher than the Constitution. Latterly, the Democratic party, even more completely than the Whig party, seems to have forgotten that there is any law higher than the Constitution, any rights above vested rights.[5]

An eminent theologian of New England, who has hitherto done good and great service in his profession, grinding off the barb of Calvinism, wrote a book in defence of slave-catching, on "Conscience and the Constitution," a book which not only sins against the sense of the righteous in being wicked, but against the worldliness of the world in being weak,—and he puts the official business of keeping "a compact" far before the natural duty of keeping a conscience void of offence, and serving God. But suppose forty thieves assemble on Fire Island, and make a compact to rob very vessel wrecked on their coast, and reduce the survivors to bondage. Suppose I am born amongst that brotherhood of pirates, am I morally bound to keep that compact, or to perform any function which grows out of it? Nay, I am morally bound to violate the compact, to keep the pirates from their plunder and their prey. Instead of forty thieves on Fire Island, suppose twenty millions of men in the United States make a compact to enslave every sixth man—the dark men—am I morally bound to heed that compact, or to perform any function which grows out of it? Nay, I am morally bound to violate the compact, in every way that is just and wise. The very men who make such a compact are morally discharged from it as soon as they see it is wrong. The forty Jews who bound themselves by wicked oath to kill Paul before they broke their fast—were they morally bound to keep their word? Nay, morally bound to break it.

I will tell you a portion of the story of a fugitive slave whom I have known. I will call his ijame Joseph, though he was in worse than Egyptian bondage. He was "owned" by a notorious gambler, and once ran away, but was retaken. His master proceeded to punish him for that crime, took him to a chamber, locked the door, and lighted a fire; he then beat the slave severely. After that he put the branding-iron in the fire, took a knife, I am not telling of what took place in Algiers, but in Alabama,—and proceeded to cut off the ears of his victim! The owner's wife, alarmed at the shrieks of the sufferer, beat down the door with a sledge-hammer, and prevented that catastrophe. Afterwards, two slaves of this gambler, for stealing their master's sheep, were beaten so that they died of the stripes. The "minister" came to the funeral, told the others that those were wicked slaves, who deserved their fate; that they would never "rise" in the general resurrection, and were not fit to be buried! Accordingly their bodies were thrown into a hole and left there. Joseph ran away again; he came to Boston; was sheltered by a man whose charity never fails; he has been in my house, and often has worshipped here with us. Shall I take that man and deliver him up?—do it "with alacrity"? Shall I suffer that gambler to carry his prey from this city? Will you allow it—though all the laws and constitutions of men give the commandment? God do so unto us if we suffer it.[6]

This we need continually to remember: that nothing in the world without is so sacred as the eternal law of God; of the world within nothing is more venerable than our own conscience, the permanent, everlasting oracle of God. The Urim and Thummim were but Jewish or Egyptian toys on the breastplate of the Hebrew priest; the Delphic oracle was only a subtle cheat; but this is the true Shekinah and presence of God in your heart: as this

——"pronounces lastly on each deed,
Of so much fame in heaven expect your meed."

If I am consciously and continually false to this, it is of no avail that I seem loyal to all besides; I make the light that is in me darkness, and how great is that darkness! The centre of my manhood is gone, and I am rotten at my heart. Men may respect me, honour me, but I am not respectable, I am a base, dishonourable man, and like a tree, broad-branched, and leafed with green, but all its heart gnawed out by secret worms; at some slight touch one day, my rotten trunk will fall with horrid squelch, bringing my leafy honours to dishonoured dust, and men will wonder that bark could hide such rottenness and ruin.

But if I am true to this legate of God, holding his court within my soul, then my power to discover the just and right will enlarge continually; the axis of my little life will coincide with the life of the infinite God, His conscience and my own be one. Then my character and my work will lie in the plane of his Almighty action; no other will in me. His infinite wisdom, justice, holiness, and love, will flow into me, a ceaseless tide, filling with life divine and new the little creeklets of my humble soul. I shall be one with God, feel His delight in me and mine in Him, and all my mortal life run o'er with life divine and bless mankind. Let men abhor me, yea, scourge and crucify, angels are at hand; yes, the Father is with me!

How we mistake. Men think if they can but get wickedness dignified into a statute, enrolled in the capitol, signed by the magistrates, and popular with the people, that all is secure. Then they rejoice, and at their "Thanksgiving-dinner," say with the short-lived tyrant in the play, after he had slain the rightful heirs of England's throne, and set his murderous hoof on justice at every step to power,—

"Now is the winter of our discontent
Made glorious summer " ….

and think that sin sits fast and rides secure.[7] But no statute of men is ever fixed on man till it be first the absolute, the right, the law of God. All else lasts but its day, for ever this, for ever still the same. By "previous questions," men may stop debate, vote down minorities with hideous grin, but the still small voice of justice will whisper in the human heart, will be trumpet-tongued in history to teach you that you cannot vote down God.

In your private character, if you would build securely, you must build on the natural law of God, inherent in your nature and in his; if the nation would build securely, it must build so. Out of their caprice, their selfishness, and their sin, may men make statutes, to last for a day, built up with joyous huzzas, and the chiming of a hundred guns, to come down with the curses of the multitude, and smitten by the thunder of God; but to build secure, you must build on the justice of the Almighty. The beatitudes of Jesus will outlast the codes of all the tyrants of the old world and the new. So I have seen gamblers hurry and huddle up their booths at a country muster, on the unsmoothed surface of a stubble-field, foundation good enough for such a structure, not a post plumb, to endure a single day of riot, drunkenness, and sin; but to build a pyramid which shall outlast empires, men lay bare the bosom of the primeval rock, and out of primeval rock they build thereon their well-joined work, outlasting Syria, Greece, Carthage, Rome, venerable to time, and underneath its steadfast foot the earthquakes pass all harmlessly away.

All things conspire to overturn a wrong. Every advance of man is hostile to it. Reason is hostile; religion is its deadly foe; the new-born generation will assail it, and it must fall. Of old it was written, "Though hand join in hand, the wicked shall not prosper," and the world’s wide walls, from the remotest bounds of peopled space, laugh out their loud and long "Amen!" Let Iniquity be never so old and respectable, get all the most eminent votes, have the newspapers on her side, guns fired at her success, it all avails nothing; for this is God’s world, not a devil's, and His eternal word has gone forth that right alone shall last for ever and for ever.

young-man, now in the period of the passions, reverence your conscience. Defer that to no appetite, to no passion, to no foolish compliance with other men's ways, to no ungodly custom, even if become a law. Ask always "Is it right for me?" Be brave and self-denying for conscience' sake. Fear not to differ from men; keeping your modesty, keep your integrity also. Let not even your discretion consume your valour. Fear not to be scrupulously upright and pure; be afraid neither of men’s hate, nor even of their laugh and haughty scorn, but shudder at the thought of tampering with your sense of right, even in the smallest matters. The flesh will come up with deceitful counsels—the Spirit teaching the commandments of God; give both their due. Be not the senses' slave, but the soul's freeman.

O brother man, who once wert young, in the period of ambition, or beyond it, if such a time there be, can you trust the selfishness, the caprice, the passions, and the sin of men, before your own conscience, renounce the law of God for the customs of men? When your volcanic mountain has been capped with snow, Interest, subtler than all the passions of the flesh, comes up to give her insidious counsel. "On our side," says she, "is the applause of men; feasting is with us; the wise and prudent are here also, yea, the ancient and honourable, men much older than thy father; and with gray hairs mottling thy once auburn head, wilt thou forsake official business, its solid praise, and certain gain, for the phantom of natural duty, renounce allegiance to warm human lies for the cold truth of God remote and far!" Say, "Get thee behind me," to such counsellors; "I will not stain my age by listening to your subterranean talk."

O brother man, or old or young, how will you dare come up before your God and say: "Lord, I heard, I heard thy voice in my soul, at times still and small, at times a trumpet talking with me of the right, the eternal right, but I preferred the low counsels of the flesh; the commands of interest I kept; I feared the rich man's decorous rage; I trembled at the public roar, and I scorned alike my native duty and thy natural law. Lo, here is the talent Thou gavest me, my sense of right. I have used each other sense, this only have I hid; it is eaten up with rust, but thus I bring it back to Thee. Take what is Thine!" Who would dare thus to sin against infinite justice? Who would wish to sin against it when it is also infinite love, and the law of right is but the highway on which the almightiness of the Father comes out to meet his prodigal, a great way off, penitent and returning home, or unrepentant still, refusing to be comforted, and famishing on draff and husks, while there is bread of heavenly life enough and yet to spare, comes out to meet us, to take us home, and to bless us for ever and for ever?

  1. The terras laws of the human spirit^ spiritual laws, &c., are sometimes used to denote exclusively those laws which man must keep, not merely what he ought to keep, laws in relation to which man has no more freedom than a mass of marble. The words are used above in a different sense.
  2. * Why dost thou, Tyrant, boast abroad
    thy wicked works to praise?
    Dost thou not know there is a God,
    whose mercies last alwaies?
    ***
    On mischiefe why sett'st thou thy minde,
    and wilt not walke upright?
    Thou hast more lust false tales to find,
    than bring the truth to light.
    Thou dost delight in fraud and guile,
    in mischiefe, bloud and wrong.
    Thy lips have learned the flattering stile,
    oh false deceitful tongue.

    Therefore shall God for aye confound,
    and pluck thee from thy place;
    Thy seed root out from off the ground,
    and so shall thee deface.
    The just, when they behold thy fall,
    with feare shall praise the Lord;
    And in reproach of thee withall,
    crie out with one accord:—

    "Behold the man that woulde not take
    the Lord for his defence;
    But of his goods his God did make,
    and trust his corrupt sense.
    But I, as olive, fresh and green,
    shall spring and spread abroad;
    For why ? my trust all times hath been,
    upon the living God!

    "For this therefore will I give praise
    to Thee with heart and voyce;
    I will set forth Thy name alwayes,
    wherein Thy saints rejoyce."
    Psalm lii. in Sternhold and Hopkins. 

  3.  It has been said that the fugitive slave law cannot be executed in Boston. Let us not be deceived. Who would have thought a year ago, that the Senator of Boston would make such a speech as that of last March, that so many of the leading citizens of Boston would write such a letter of approval, that such a bill could pass the Congress, and a man be found in this city (Mr Samuel A. Eliot) to vote for it and get no rebuke from the people! Yet a single man should not endure the shame alone, which belongs in general to the leading men of the city. The member for Boston faithfully represented the public opinion of his most eminent constituents, lay and clerical. Here is an account of what took place in New York since the delivery of the sermon.

    [From the New York Tribune.]

    "Slave-catching in New York—First Case under the Law.

    "The following case, which occurred yesterday, is one of peculiar interest from the fact of its being the first case under the new Fugitive Slave Law. It will be noticed that there is very little of the 'law's delay' here; the proceedings were as summary as an Arkansas court audience could desire.

    "U. S. Commissioner's Office—Before Commissioner Gardiner.—Examination as to James Hamlet, charged to be a fugitive slave, the property of Mary Brown, of Baltimore.—No person was present as counsel for accused, and only one coloured man. He is a light mulatto. The marshal said Mr Wood had been there. The commissioner said they would go on, and if counsel came in, he would read proceedings.

    "Thomas J. Clare (a man with dark eyes and hair), sworn.—Am thirty years of age; clerk for Merchant's Shot Manufacturing Company in Baltimore; know James Hamlet; he is slave of Mary Brown, a mother-in-law of mine, residing in Baltimore; have known Hamlet about twenty years; he left my mother-in-law about two years ago this season, by absenting himself from the premises, the dwelling where he resided in Baltimore; she is entitled to his services; he is a slave for life; she never parted with him voluntarily; she came into possession of him by will from John G. Brown, her deceased husband; the written paper shown is an extract from his will; she held him under that from the time she inherited him till he escaped, as I have testified; this is the man (pointing to Hamlet, a light mulatto man, about twenty-four or twenty-five years of age, looking exceedingly pensive).

    "Gustavus Brown, sworn.—Am twenty-five years of age; reside in New York; clerk with A. M. Fenday, 25 Front-street; resided before coming hero in Baltimore; I know James Hamlet; I have known him since a boy; he is a slave to my mother; he is a slave for life; my mother inherited him under the will of my father; he left her service by running away, I suppose; absenting himself from the house in the city of Baltimore, about two years since; I have seen him several times, within the last six months, in the city; first time I saw him was in April last; my mother is still entitled to possession of him; she never has parted with him; the man sitting here (Hamlet) is the man.

    "Mr Asa Child, Counsellor at Law, here came into the room, and took his seat; he said he had been sent to this morning, through another, by a gentleman with whom Hamlet had lived in this city (Mr S. N. Wood), but he had  no directions in the matter; he merely came to see that the law is properly administered, and supposed it would be without him.

    "Mr Child was then shown the law, the power of attorney to Mr Clare, the affidavit of Mr Clare on which Hamlet was arrested—and the testimony thus far.

    "Mr Clare, cross-examined by Mr Child.—I married Mrs Brown's daughter about seventeen years ago; Hamlet has always lived with us in the family: I am in her family now, and was at the time he went away; think he is about twenty-eight years of age (he looks much younger than that—his features are very even, as those of a white person of the kind); he occasionally worked at the shot tower where I worked; he was hired there as a labourer, and Mrs Brown got the benefit of him—that is, when I had no other use for him; he had formerly been employed as a dray-man; after I married into the family some year or two, we lived together, I "furnishing the house; such wages as I got for the man it was returned to Mrs Brown, to be used as she saw fit; I was her agent to get employment for him as I could; I had him in various occupations; I have a power of attorney; I have no further interest in him than he is her property, and we wish to get him back to Maryland again, where he left.

    "Mr Brown, cross-examined.—Left home 27th March last. Was home when Hamlet went away. At the time he was engaged at the shot tower business.
    "Mr Child said he had no further questions to ask. He supposed the rules of the law had been complied with.
    "Mr Gardiner, the commissioner, then said, I will deliver the fugitive over to the marshal, to be delivered over to the claimant.
    "Mr Child suggested if that was the law. The commissioner then said he would hand him, as the law said, to the claimant, and if there should be any danger of rescue, he would deliver him to the United States marshal.
    "The United States marshal said he had performed his duty in bringing him in.

    "Mr Clare said he would demand such aid from the United States marshal as would secure the delivery of the man to his owner in Baltimore.

    "Mr Child suggested that it must be an affidavit that he apprehends a rescue. Mr Clare said that he did so apprehend.

    "Mr Talmadge, the marshal, said he would have to perform his duty, if called upon.
    "Mr Child replied he supposed he would, but there were doubts as to the form.
    "The necessary papers were made out by the commissioner, Mr Clare swearing he feared a rescue, and Hamlet was delivered to him, thence to the United States marshal, and probably was conveyed with all possible despatch to Baltimore, a coach being in waiting at the door; and he was taken off in irons, an officer accompanying the party."

    Here is the charge of Judge McLean in a similar case.

    "No earthly power has a right to interpose between a man's conscience and his Maker, He has a right, an inalienable and absolute right, to worship God, according to the dictates of his own conscience. For this he alone must answer, and he is entirely free from all human restraint to think and act for himself.

    "But this is not the case when his acts affect the rights of others. Society has a claim upon all citizens. General rules have been adopted in the form of laws, for the protection of the rights of persons and things. These laws lie at the foundation of the social compact, and their observance is essential to the maintenance of civilization. In these matters the law, and not conscience, constitutes the rule of action. You are sworn to decide this case according to the law and testimony; and you become unfaithful to the solemn injunctions you have taken upon yourselves, when you yield to an influence which you call conscience, that places you above the law and the testimony. "Such a rule can only apply to individuals; and when assumed as a basis of action on the rights of others, it is utterly destructive of all law. What may be deemed a conscientious act by one individual, may he held criminal by another. In view of one, the act is meritorious; in the view of the other, it should be punished as a crime. And each has the same right, acting under the dictates of his conscience, to carry out his own view. This would overturn the basis of society. We must stand by the law. We have sworn to maintain it. It is expected that the citizens of the free States should be opposed to slavery. But with the abstract principles of slavery we have nothing to do. As a political question there could be no difference of opinion among us on the subject. But our duty is found in the Constitution of the Union, as construed by the Supreme Court. The fugitives from labour we are bound, by the highest obligations, to deliver up on claim of the master being made; and there is no State power which can release the slave from the legal custody of his master. "In regard to the arrest of fugitives from labour, the law does not impose active duties on our citizens generally. They are not prohibited from exercising the ordinary charities of life towards the fugitive. To secrete him or convey him from the reach of his master, or to rescue him when in legal custody, is forbidden; and for doing this a liability is incurred. This gives to no one a just ground of complaint. He has only to refrain from an express violation of the law, which operates to the injury of his neighbour." He seems to think the right to hold slaves as much a natural right as the absolute right to worship God according to the "dictates of conscience." One man has an unalienable right to liberty, other men an unalienable right to alienate and take it from him! Here is something in a different spirit from a Boston newspaper.

    "The Fugitive Slave Bill.

    "This infamous bill has finally passed both branches of Congress.[* 1] My opinion on this subject may have little weight with those who voted for it, but may help sustain the sinking spirit of some poor disconsolate one, who, having fled from the land of oppressors, is anxiously looking to see if there is any one who will give him a cheering look, or a kind reception, or who dares to give him a crust of bread, or a cup of water, and help him on his way. "Allow me to say to such an one, that if pursued by the merciless slave-holder, and every other door in Boston is shut against him, there is a door that will be open at No. 2, Beach-street, and that the fear of fines and imprisonment will be ineffectual when the pursuer shall demand his victim. If he enters before the fleeing captive is safe, it will be at his peril. I am opposed to war, and all the spirit of war; even to all preparations for what is called self-defence in times of peace; yet I should resist the pursuer, and not allow him to enter my dwelling until he was able to tread me under his feet. I will not trample upon any law, either of my own State, or of the nation, that does not conflict with my conscientious duty to my God; but Jesus has commanded, saying, ’All things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them.'

    "If, for no crime, I had been taken and sold, and deprived of all the rights of my manhood, and degraded to the rank of a beast of burden; not only deprived of the opportunity to labour for the support of my wife and children, but even deprived of their kind sympathy and companionship, whenever the interest or will of my oppressors should require it; and I should, at the peril of my life, flee from my oppressors, and they should pursue me to the dwelling of some poor disciple of Jesus, it may be that of a coloured man, and I should beg of him to protect me, and help me to escape from the pursuer's grasp, should I not hope, if he was a Christian, he would give me bread and water, and help me on my way, regardless of the fines and imprisonment that such a kind act might render him liable to? Could I expect to meet the approbation of my Lord, if I did not do as much for the fleeing slave? Can there be a Christian, in this land of the Pilgrims, who will not do it, and besides, do all in his power to prevent any one of those Senators or Representatives in Congress who voted for that infamous bill from ever again misrepresenting any portion of the friends of freedom, in Boston or elsewhere? It is said, this is a law of the land, and must be obeyed: to such I would say, 'Whether it be right in the sight of God to hearken unto men more than unto God, judge ye.'

    "I prefer to obey God, if in so doing I must break the laws of men and be punished, rather than violate the laws of God and obey the laws of men, to escape fines and imprisonments, or even death.

    "Boston, Sept. 23, 1850.
    T. GILBERT."

    Here is yet more:

    "The Fugitive Slave Bill.

    "Messrs Editors:—The bold and manly avowal of your correspondent, Mr T. Gilbert, in last evening's Traveller, in commenting upon what he very justly denominates the 'infamous fugitive slave bill,' is but the very echoing of thousands of hearts equally true to the cause of freedom, and who seek the elevation of the down-trodden sons and daughters of American slavery. That gentleman, acting upon the dictates of an enlightened patriotism, and in deep sympathy with the fleeing captive, has the courage to avow his determination to throw wide open his door, and offers to make his house—even though he should stand alone among his fellow-citizens—an asylum to the fugitive slave, in his retreat from the prison-house of bondage. The paramount claims which he awards to the Divine law over that which is but human, and therefore necessarily imperfect, commend his spirited letter to the consideration of all those that have in any way aided in the passage of a bill at variance with the first principles of civil freedom, and in direct hostility to the instruction of that great Teacher who hath commanded us to 'Do unto others as we would that they should do unto us.' That the determination of your correspondent may be true and unfaltering, is the hearty prayer of one, at least, of his fellow-citizens, who is ready at all times to co-operate in making an asylum for the fugitive slave, even though bonds and imprisonments should prove the penalty.

    "Boston, Sept. 26, 1850.
    GEORGE W. CARNES."

    Here follow some characteristic remarks on the terror which the fugitives here in Boston feel in apprehension of being torn from their families and their freedom.

    "The Fugitive Slave Law.

    "The coloured people had a grand time last evening, at Zion's Chapel in Church-street. Their object was to denounce the fugitive slave law; and this was done with hearty good-will, or, we should say, malediction.

    "The steam would have been well up, without any extraneous elements of excitement; but what added a special interest to the occasion, and raised the temperament to blood-heat, was the announcement, made by Mr Downing, that the wife of James Hamlet (the fugitive slave who was returned to his owner in Baltimore, a few days since, under a process of law) had died yesterday, of grief and convulsions.

    "This filled the measure of indignation which burned in the bosoms of all present, against a law which, besides its other abominations, could produce such fatal effects. In the fever of the moment, a contribution was called for, to defray the expense of her funeral, and about twenty dollars was collected.

    "Shortly after, information was received that it was all a mistake about her dying of convulsions, or in any other way; and that she was as well as ever. This was a damper upon the enthusiasm of the occasion, but the money was already collected, and seeing it could not be applied just now to defray her funeral expenses, it was very properly decided to apply it to her living expenses. The meeting adjourned.

    "Mrs Hamlet was in our office yesterday, accompanied by her mother and a coloured man. She appeared to be in good health (though of course distressed at the misfortune of her husband), and we hope she will live a thousand years. She certainly shall, if his return will have that effect."—N. Y. Journal of Commerce.

    I print these passages, hoping that some hundred years hence they may be found in some old library, and valued as monuments of the state of Christianity in the free States in the year 1850.

  4. *The Function of the Jury.

    There are two theories of the function of the jury in criminal trials. One I will call the theory of the government; the other the theory of the people. The first has of late been insisted on in certain courts, and laid down by some judges in their charges to the jury. The second lies, perhaps dimly, in the consciousness of the people, and may be gathered from the conduct of juries in trials where the judges' law would do obvious injustice to the prisoner.

    I. According to the theory of the government. The judge is to settle the law for the jury. This involves two things:

    1. He is to declare the law denouncing punishment on the alleged crime.

    2. To declare what constitutes the crime. Then the jury are only to determine whether the prisoner did the deed which the judge says constitutes the crime. He, exclusively, is to decide what is the law, and what deed constitutes the crime; they only to decide if the prisoner did the deed. For example, to take a case which has not happened yet, to my knowledge: John Doe is accused of having eaten a Medford cracker; and thereupon, by direction of the government, has been indicted by a grand jury for the capital offence of treason, and is brought before a traverse jury for trial. The judge tells the jury, 1. That eating a Medford cracker constitutes the crime of treason. 2. That there is a law denouncing death on that crime. Then the jury are to hearken to the evidence, and if it is proved to their satisfaction that John Doe ate the Medford cracker, they are to return a verdict of guilty. They are only to judge of the matter of fact, and take the law on the judge's authority.

    II. According to the theory of the people, in order to render their verdict, the jury are to determine three things:

    1. Did the man do the deed alleged?

    2. If so, Is there a legal and constitutional statute denouncing punishment upon the crime? Here the question is twofold: (a) as to the deed which constitutes the crime, and (A) as to the statute which denounces the crime.

    3. If all this is settled affirmatively, then, Shall this man suffer the punishment thus legally and constitutionally denounced?

    For example: John Doe is accused of having eaten a Medford cracker, is indicted for treason, and brought to trial; the judge charges as above. Then the jury are to determine:

    1. Did John Doe eat the Medford cracker in the manner alleged?

    2. If so: (a) Does that deed constitute the crime of treason? and (b) Is there a legal and constitutional statute denouncing the punishment of death on that crime?

    3. If so likewise. Shall John Doe suffer the punishment of death?

    The first question, as to the fact, they are to settle by the evidence presented in open court, according to the usual forms, and before the face of the prisoner; the testimony of each witness forms one element of that evidence. The jury alone are to determine whether the testimony of the witnesses proves the fact.

    The second question, (a) as to the deed which constitutes the crime, and (b) as to the law which denounces the crime, they are to settle by evidence; the testimony of the judge, of the States' Attorney, of the prisoner's counsel, each forms an element of that evidence. The jury alone are to determine whether that testimony proves that the deed constitutes the crime, and that there is a law denouncing death against it; and the jury are to remember that the Judge and the attorney who are the creatures of the government, and often paid to serve its passions, may be, and often have been, quite as partial, quite as unjust, as the prisoner's counsel.

    The third question, as to punishing the prisoner, after the other questions are decided against him, is to be settled solely by the mind and conscience of the jury. If they know that John Doe did eat the Medford cracker, that the deed legally constitutes the crime of treason, and that there is a legal and constitutional statute denouncing death on that crime, they are still to determine, on their oath as jurors, on their manhood as men, whether John Doe shall suffer the punishment of death. They are jurors to do justice, not injustice; what they think is justice, not what they think injustice.

    The government theory, though often laid down in the charge, is seldom if ever practically carried out by a judge in its full extent. For he does not declare on his own authority what is the law and what constitutes the crime, but gives the statutes, precedents, decisions, and the like; clearly implying by this very course that the jury are not to take his authority barely, but his reasons if reasonable.

    In the majority of cases, the statute and the ruling of the court come as near to real justice as the opinion of the jury does; then if they are satisfied that the prisoner did the deed alleged, they return a verdict of guilty with a clear conscience, and subject the man to what they deem a just punishment for an unjust act. Their conduct then seems to confirm the government theory of the jurors' function. Lawyers and others sometimes reason exclusively from such cases, and conclude such is the true and actual theory thereof. But when a case occurs, wherein the ruling of the judge appears wrong to the jury; when he declares legal and constitutional what they think is not so; Avhen he declares that a trifiing offence constitutes a great crime; when the statute is manifestly unjust, forbidding what is not wrong, or when the punishment denounced for a real wrong is excessive, or any punishment is provided for a deed not wrong, though there is no doubt of the facts, the jury will not convict. Sometimes they will acquit the prisoner; sometimes fail to agree. The history of criminal trials in England and America proves this. In such cases the jury are not false to their function and jurors' oath, but faithful to both, for the jurors are the "country"—the justice and humanity of men.

    Suppose some one should invent a machine to be used in criminal trials for determining the testimony given in court. Let me call it a Martyrion. This instrument receives the evidence and determines and reports the fact that the prisoner did, or did not, do the deed alleged. According to the government theory, the Martyrion would perfectly perform all the functions of the jury in a criminal case; but would any community substitute the machine for the jury of "twelve good men and true?" If the jury is to be merely the judge's machine, it had better be of iron and gutta-percha than of human beings.

    In Philadelphia, some years ago, a man went deliberately and shot a person who had seduced his sister under circumstances of great atrocity. He was indicted for wilful murder. There was no doubt as to the fact, none as to the law, none as to the deed which constituted that crime. The jury returned, "Not guilty"—and were justified in their verdict. In 1850, in New Jersey, a man seduced the wife of another, under circumstances even more atrocious. The husband, in open day, coolly and deliberately shot the seducer; was tried for wilful murder. Here, too, there was no doubt of the fact, of the law, or the deed which constituted the crime of murder; but the jury, perfectly in accordance with their official function, returned "Not guilty."

    The case of William Penn in 1670, who was tried under the Conventicle Act, is well known. The conduct of many English juries who would not condemn a fellow-creature to death for stealing a few pounds of money, is also well known, and shows the value of this form of trial to protect a man from a wicked law. I think most men will declare the verdict of "Not guilty" in the case of J. P. Zenger, tried for high treason in New York in 1735, a righteous judgment, made in strict accordance with the official function of the jurors; but it was plainly contrary to the evidence as well as to the ruling of the court.

    See Mr Parker's Defence, p. 76, et seq., for further remarks on the function of the Jury (Boston, 1865).

  5. So it appeared in September, 1851; but since then the Whig party has vindicated its claim to the same bad eminence as the Democratic party.
  6. The person referred to fled away from Boston, and in one of the British provinces found the protection for his unalienable rights which could not be allowed him in New England.
  7. This refers to a speech of Mr Webster, occasioned by the passage of the Fugitive Slave Law.
  1. I call this bill infamous, because by it the man or woman who is charged with being a slave is deprived of all the means of self-defence allowed to those who are charged with crimes, and to be delivered up summarily, without the right of trial by jury, or any other proper means of proving the charge groundless. Is it a worse crime to be a slave than a thief or a murderer?