Charter Oak, 1848-04-27

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AN ANTI-SLAVERY
c P B O B M I A l . .
. » R i ] i c n » i . B s — P u m p o s K s .
FAM] LY NEWSPAPER
The dHABTH OA'','wodU W r a w n byiiwu
FAIJC'TTK'CHAa'm or « a S m t r a Ami tba i mp
of Ty^-ny. ft is a Fna Papw,—not tkeiaion a
cliiiniiel for all babble—bat what it would say, it
I Treely. It will ailnd in defense'of all right,
hdwev^ lowly and downtrodden, and throw rel«ike
inlii the fsce of all wrong, whether in parr>Ie aati
uniwlciolh, or in rags and squalor. Yet, thoogh 4
liira ihe sin, it will not hau tha sinner, it wiA
Iw nliiefly daroled to Uia eniase of LIBSBTT, ail
(uniting indsy«fideBt political action against Slav*
ry, but it wii; wear the collar of no Party. It win
aim to make whole, not demolish GoTemment,—la
wiest iU| scr||tre from th« ItavLs of m>pnpanra. mot
lu lireoh it. It would nut ]iut a fiFe.or«nd ta Chatst
Mihl State, to purify lliem,—but spare the tempba
»liile it nwts the rennin that are thronging them.
LITKTATDBC, of a liearty, manly sort, will ha«a ifa
place here, with all that tends t^iward hunnn » l e ««
.1 ion. We shall seek not to^divorro the spirit of Pro-
^iLiis from the sense orBeauty—but rather aim la
will Refinement to Reform—not forgetting, howavar,
tu use tha siwuige when high-handed wiehedwaa
shall demand it. Pasaing Events and fixed Piinai
pli«, the transient News, and the eternal Jjaws, shall
find a reconl in our Paper; and eTcrythins which
Imaest endeavor, good will and some «xperieiiee
ran do, win be attempted, to make It welcoma to ita
friends, a blessing to Hunaai^rMd to oaiselvaa i.
of ankanaatliralilMed.
NEW SEllIES. HARTFORD, CONN., THBISDAY, APRIL 27, 1848.
From die K<in|Nreil-
T O T H E FRENCH REVOLUTIONISTS
BT HEKET R. TRACT.
A r e ! trample on that prostrate throne,
And bow like si es no lonf!er;
Your tyrant ft«m his nest hatli flown,
And Liberty grows stronger.
Strike boldly for yonr freedtan, n o w -
Let nothing check or blind you;
Furrow the soil—drive on the plow,
Kor look in fear behind you.
Million*, in Europe, on you bend
Tbcir eyes with anxious yeaming;
Millions, their pdling chains to rend
In b l o o ^ atrife, a n burning.
Oh, hear y e not the exultant cry,
Of our owu eagle, rising
Against the arches of Uie sky.
At Freedom's new baptiring?
How proudly soars he, while with fear
Old Europe's kings are quaking;
Earth hath no music for hit ea'.
Like that of fetters breaking.
With quivering wings and fiery glance,
With olden memories glowing,
He looks forth to his brother France,
Where martyrs' blood is flow jig.
He waits to see you proudly march.
With freedom on your banners—
And hear, from the o'erhanging arch.
Echo your loud hosannas.
Then rise before the expectant world.
All regal power defying;
While despots, from their thrones are burled.
And Tyranny is dying.
March 28th.
For the Charter Oak.
§ T A T E S O V E R E I G N T Y.
The object of the present writer is, in-formation
relative to the true meaning of
the phrase 'State Sovereignty.' The terms
are familiarily used by one statesman, as
if tliey had been well defined and genera-lly
understood; whereas it is certainly
otherw ise. It cannot have escaped obser-vation,
that tliis expression has a mean-ing
in South Carolina which has rarely
been given to it in Kew EngUmd. Or if,
in New England, a loose meaning has
been yielded, in accommodation to South-em
views, still, it is not a given point that
tliis meaning is not inadmissible, and dan-gerous
in its tendency. It is believed that
a wrong principle in regard to State Sov-ereignty
prevails, which, if carried out,
would lay the foundation of Nullification
in every State, whenever the Gkneral
Government shall exercise power over the
States, however just, however called for,
by the public good, unless specifically de-jmed
by the Constitution. But this would
place enacted laws and Constitutions above
right and the law of Nalure, and subvert
the only true foundation of civil govern-ment.
Must there not be in the naltire
of human society a reason or fmndation
of human government, existing indejiend-ently
of all human volition or contract ?
If not, we desiie to know, whence are
human governments, and who has given
them their authority ? But if it be admit-ted
that there is, in the nature of things as
the Author of nature has constituted it, a
rcamm for human government, a lex na-tuT<
p, a law of immutable right or justice
to which men must submit if they would
be happy, then we have a basis of author,
itg sanctioned by our reason and our Cre-ator.
And for information we ask, can
their be any other foundation for sover-eignty,
either State or General ? Is not
all human government founded upon the
matter of fact, that, when human beings
arc located in communities, their purest
and best interests cannot be secured with-out
reoognissing general rules of natural
justice to which all should submit T And
thus submitting, does not give or grant
this superior claims, but only recognizes
and acLiowledges its independent, divine
existence. Consequently, when human
beings in community, form a general gov-ernment
or constitution, we should think
it an unhappy <use of terms, to say tli^
they had ^granted' or given to tlie consti-tution
or its representatives the Congress,
ccrtain general powers. No. These
supposed |towers exist in the nature of
human society, independent of the will of
man. And the framers of a constitution
do not, by their instrument, create the
laws of riglit, but only explicitly express
them in human language to be read by all,
and not properly adopted, but yielded to
in obedience to the designs of their Crea-tor.
It is only thus, as it appears to the
writer, tliat it can be said, ' The powers
that be, are ordained of God.*
And then it woulit follow thai, if the
framers of our Constitution, had happen-ed
to discover these supreme laws of na-ture,
and had written them in plain lan-guage,
excepting one which had unaccoun-tably
been overlooked and not written, we
say it would follow that this omitted one
would also have autliority over the peo-ple,
and bind them, if not as strongly, yet
as truly, as those written. F«r the au-thority
of the written, existed before writ-ten,
depending upon the Creator and not
npon the creature. The laic of naturt,
whether written in our ConsUtution or not,
forbids a father to abuse a child, a hus-band
a wife. And if there were no other
I more immediate law written to protect
the suffering in such a case, the general
Constitution must necessarily be interpret-ed
so as to grant the protection which nat-ural
jostice demanded. And so of slaves
or any other suffering dass of men. The
laws of nature are supreme, and demand
that the innocent should be protected;
and this is the business of human govern-ments.
There can be no nullifying of the
laws of nature. Sovereignty has its ori-gin
in nature; and is divine. No created
being or beings have any right to soveign-ty
other than this. State sovereignty, if
it mean not this, is a misnomer. Sover-eignty
is from above, binding all rational
beings to the throne of Right. It is
not a gathering from the mass of hu-man
things, but an unchangeable authori-ty
from the Author of nature binding all
human beings.
If the above remarks arc just, a natu-ral
inference is that State sovereignty can
have no superiority over the Geueral sov-ereignty
of the Union. For we have
shown that the origin of human govern-ment
must be in the laws of right—thaf
is, supposing a large community or
country to exist, the highest interest«a of
the whole would demand a general gov-ernment,
constitution or laws which must
be supreme and authoritative over the
whole, because the public good is greater
than individual good, (r^ral sovereign-ty,
therefore, originating from the claims
of the public good and not from any sup-posed
grant of power made by private in-dividu^
s or states, is higher in its author-ity
and prior in its claims to any supposed
State sovereignty.
It is true we hear of the attribute of
(State sovereignty; but we wish explicitly
to be inform^ whence do the .States de-rive
a sovereignty higher than a larger
community whose interests are greater,
can derive ? From the people ? Whence
do the people derive it, if ^ey derive it
at all ? Suppose but one man on earth:
he would have no such sovereignty.—
Suppose two, and you have a society; and
now above each, and independent of each,
there exists a law requiring each to do to
the other as he would that the other should
do to him. Suppose now two hundred;
and this law of right remains—not some-thing
which they have created or enacted,
but something which tlie Author of nature
has created, and to which men are to
yield obedience. If right is not the ba-sis
of a government, or oi a constitution,
or of a law, it has none. Could our con-stitution
be proved to be based not in
right, he who pit>ved it would annihilate
it. Moral right alone binds rational be-ings.
If we are thus far correct in our views,
the main position of Gen. Cass, on the
Proviso Bill, cannot be correct. He says
if a restriction was to be put upon the
Territories Relative to slavery, "the well
known attributes of sovereignty, recog-nized
by us as belonging to the State
Governments, would sweep before them
any such barrier, and would leave the
people to expiess and exert their will at
pleasure." He evidently means that the
General Government can, in no case not
clearly specified in the constitution, as-sume
or possess a sovereignty which a
State sovereignty might not sweep before
it as the dust. This is a favorite idea at
the South, and especially with the illus-trious
stifte^man of (touth Carolina.-—
Gen. Cass, speaking of the Territories,
says, "some of their rights are inchoate,
and they do not possess the peculiar attri-butes
of sovereignty" Why not? Is that
attribute to be conferred upon them by
Congress when they are admitted into tlie
Union ? No. State sovereignty is some-thing
inherent—something not con/erred
by the General Government. So the
South say. H7/y, then, do not the Terri-tories
"possess the peculiar attributes of
sovereignty?" On Southern principles
no man can tell.
But on the prindples above laid down
by ourselves, neither States nor Territo-ries
have the sovereignty constantly as-sumed
at the South, and which leads to
constant contention with the General Gov-ernment
and to final rebellion. But the
General Government, supposing it to be
founded in the natural laws of right, is
bound to promote the public good, altho'
in some possible cases at the expense of
Stale rights no less tlian of individiud
rights. If, in any such case, a State has
a right to object to the provisions of the
General Government, and to oppose its
acts by throwing itself back upon "its pe-culiar'aUributes
of sovereignty," then we
do not see why, on the same principle, a
county in a State may not also rise against
the sovereignty of the State and claim, in
the true spirit of nullification, that they
have never surrendered their sovereignty
to the State, and never will. They will
rather sacrifice their lives in the defence
of their natural rights, than yield the in-alienable
attribute of sovereignty. On
this principle you might next expect to
hear the individual, assuming the right of
judging his own case, saying, " I will not
submit to any State, or county, or town
laws that infringe upon my rights or in-terests;
for I have never surrendered,
nor never shall surrender, my attribute of
sovereignty. It were base to do i t"
Does it not then appear that there is a
blinding magic in the prevailing use of
Ae term State sovereign^ ? And if an
individual, or the inhabitants of a county,
are bound to submit to the laws of a
State, does it not follow, from the same or
similar reasons, that a State, as a part of
the Union, is bound to submit to the laws
of the General Gk>vemment as supreme ?
The reason of the dium in both cases is,
that sovereignty comes from above and
not from below; i. e. it is the result of
the fact that human beings have found that
they must be governed by an authority
higher and more immutable than them-selves.
Such authority is found in (not
given to) a Constitution, meaning by such
an instrument the laws of nature embod*
ied and published. Our Constitution em-bodies
the laws of justice or right as they
exist, (not by the agreement of the
States, but) in the constitution of human
society. These are supreme and sove-reign.
None other can be. No State
sovereignty can sweep them away. Are
we right in this ? If not, we wish to be
informed in what respects we are wrong.
We hope to elicit from the more intelli-gent
the light which this subject is capa-ble
of shedding. If we are right, one of
the main positions in Southern policy
gives way. It is by thfa "peculiar attri-bute
of sovereignty" (and I confess it is
peculiar) that the Southern statesmen de-fend
themselves against the just claims of
the country in favor of liberty; as if
there were no law of right, or nature, or
justice, or public good, that could possibly
have the least claim to obedience, if not
definitely written out in the Constitution.
No Constitution do they allow even, tho'
made by the wisdom of the world, which
would infringe upon their favorite institu-tion
of slavery.
We are aware that it is often assumed
that the Constitution, and especially Con-gress,
have no powers, except those which
have been granted, or surrendered by the
States. This is more specious than sound.
It is not true. A constitution and gov-ernment
have all the powers that the
la/ws of nalure on which they are based,
give them. They may, or may not, all
be written and defined. Some general
laws cannot define all that will come un-der
them; and they must be left to exposi-tion.
In forming our general government,
the delegates came together, not to give
and grant general powers, but to search
out what powers the Creator, by making
men what they are, had ordained fur the
good of man. The question was not,
what would benefit a state, or an individ-ual,
so much as what would benefit the
Union. The surrender made by each
State, if any were made, was mainly a
surrender to the idea, that the general
good must prevail against private good.—
And when the States adopted the Consti-tution,
as intelligent men, they could not
have supposed, that it was a mere instru-ment,
defining a few powers, which the
States were pleased to give away. We
repudiate the idea. No. It was an in-strument
drawn up by the sages of the
world, containing the elementary princi-ples
of a general government, as they
had been derived from a thorough investi-gation
of the laws of civil and moral
right, in all ages. These elementary
principles were not given by the States,
but by the Creator of Stales. The States
were, indeed, called upon to adopt the
Constitution; but, by doing this, they only
yieWed to the law of right. .They were
bound to do it, unless they could show
that it violated some natural law. They
were bound, in nature, and by circum.
stance,to place over themselves a cupreme
government. Indeed, if they gave away
any thing in this act, it was their State
sovereignty. It will never again be theirs.
Are we right? ENauiRER.
PRESENTIMENTS.
I have heard of several cases of people
hurrying home from a presentiment of
fire; and Mr. M. Calderwood was oncc,
when absent from home, wized with such
an anxiety about his family, that, without
being able in any way to account for it,
he felt himself impelled to fly to them and
remove them from the house they were
inhabiting; one wing of which fell down
immediately afterwards. No notion of
such a misfortune had ever before occur-red
to him, nor was there any reason
whatever to expect it; the accident orig-inating
from some defect in the foundation.
A circumstance exactly similar to this, is
related by Stilling of Professor Bohm,
teacher of mathematics at Marburg; who
being one evening in. company, was sud-denly
seized with a conviction that he
ought to go home. As, however, he was
very comfortably taking tea, and had no-thing
to do at home, he resisted the ad-monition
; but it returned with such force,
that at length he was obliged to yield.—
On reaching his house, he found every-thing
as he had left i t ; but he now felt
himself urged to remove his bed from the
comer in which it stood to another: but,
as it had always stood there, he resisted
this impulsion also. However, the resist-ance
was vain; absurd as it seemed, he
felt he must do it; BO he summoned
the maid, and, with her aid, drew the bed
to the other side of the room; after which
he felt quite at ease, and retumed to spend
the rest of the evening with his friends.
At ten o'clock the party broke up, and he
retired home, and went to bed aind to
sleep. In the middle of the night he was
awakened by a lond crash, and on look-ing
out, he saw that a I n e beam bad fal-len,
bringing part of tUB cefling with it,
and was lying exactly on the spot his bed
had occupied. One of Uie most remarka-ble
cases of presentiment I ^ow, is that
which occurred not very long since on
board cne of her majesty's ships, when
lying off Portsmouth. The officers being
one day at the mess table, a young Lieu-tenant
P. suddenly laid down his knife
and fork, pushed away his plate, and turn-ed
extremely pale. He then rose from
the table, covering his face with his hands,
and retired from the-room. The presi-dent
of the mess, supposing him to be ill,
sent one of the youngmen to enquire what
was the matter. At first Mr. P. was un-willwg
to speak: but, on being pressing,
he confessed that he had been seized by a
sudden and irresistible impression that a
brother he had then in India was dead.
'He died,' said he, 'on the 12th of August,
at six o'clock; I am perfectly certain of
it.' No arguments C(^ld overthrow this
conviction, which, in due course of post,
was verified to the letter. The young
man had died at Camipore at the precise
period mentioned.—Mrs. Growers Night
Side of Nature.
Erom the Liberty Bell.
C H A R I T Y B O W E R Y.
BY L . V . CHILD.
The following story was told me by an
aged colored woman in ^ew York. I
shall endeavor to relate it precisely in her
own words, so oft repeated, that they are
tolerably well impressed on my memory.
Some confusion of names, dutes, and inci-dents,
I may naturally make. I profess
only to give 'the pith and marrow' of
Charity's story, deprived of the high dra.
matic effect it received from her swelling
emotions, earnest looks and changing
tones.
'I am about sixty-five years old. I
was born on an estate called Pembroke,
about three miles from Edenton, N. Caro-lina.
My master wa«* very kind to his
slaves. If an overseer whipped them, he
turned him away. He used to whip them
himself, sometimes, with hickory switch-es
as large as my little finger. My moth-er
suckled all his children. She was
reckoned a very good servant, and our
mistress made it a point to give one of my
mother's children to each of hers. I fell
to the lot of Elizabeth, her second daugh-ter.
It was my business to wait upon her.
She was all the same as a mother to poor
Charity. If Charity wanted to learn to
spin, she lot her learn; if Charity wanted
to learn to knit, she let her learn; it
Charity wanted to weave, she let her
learn. I had a wedding when 1 was mar-ried;
for mistress didn't like to have her
people take up with another, without any
minister to marry them. When my dear
good mistress died, she charged her child-ren
never to separate me and my husband;
'for,' said she, 'if ever there was a match
made in heaven, it was Charity and her
husband.' My husband was a nice, good
man; and mistress knew we set stores by
one another. Her children promised her
they never would separate me from my
husband and children. Indeed, they used
to tell me they would never sell me at all;
and I am sure they meant what they said.
But my young master got into trouble.—
He used to come home and sit leaning his
head upon his hand by the hour together,
without speaking to anybody. I see some-thing
was the matter; and I begged of him
to tell me what made him look so wor-ried.
He told me he owed seventeen hun-dred
dollars that he could not pay; and he
was afraid he would have to go to prison.
1 begged him to sell me and my children,
rather than go to jail. I see the tears
come in his eyes. '1 don't know. Chari-ty,'
said he; 'I'll see what can be done.—
One thing you may feel easy about: I will
never separate you Trom your husband
and children, let what will come.'
'Two o^ three days after, he come to
me, and says he, 'Charity, how should
you like to be sold to Mr. McKinley?' I
told him 1 would rather be sold to him
than to anybody else, because my husband
belonged to him. My husband was a
nice, good man, and we set stores by one
another. Mr. McKinley agreed to buy
us; and so I and my children went there to
live. He was a kind master; hut as for
mistress McKinley—she was a divil! Mr.
McKinley died a few years after he bought
us; and in his will be gave me and my
husband free; but I never knowed any-thing
about it for years afterward. I don't
know how they managed it. My poor
husband died, and never knowed that he
was free. But it's all the same now. He's
among the ransomed' He used to say—
'Thank God, it's only a little way home ;
I shall soon be with Jesus.' Oh ! he had
a fine old Christian heart.'
Here the old woman sighed deeply,and
remained silent for a moment, while her
right hand rose and fell upon her lap, as
if her thoughts were mournfully busy.—
At last she resumed:
'Sixteen children Ive had, first and last;
and twelve I've nursed for mistress. From
the time my first baby was born, I always
set my heart upon buying freedom for
some of my children. 1 thought it was of
more consequence to them than to me: for
I was old and used to being a slave. But
mistress McKinley wouldn't let me have
my chiMren. One after another—one af-ter
another—she sold 'em away from me.
O, how many times that woman brdce
my heart!'
Here her voice choked, and the tears
began to flow. She wiped them quickly
with the corner of her apron, and contin-ued:
*I tried every way 1 could to lay up a
copper, to buy my children, but I found it
pretty hard; for mistress kept me to work
all of the time. It was 'Charity! Charity!
Charity!' from morning till night. 'Char-ity
do this,' and 'Charity do that.'
'I used to do the washings of the fami-ly,
and large washings ihey were. The
public road run right by my little hut, and
I thought to myselfj while I stood there at
the wash-tub, I might just as well as not
be earning something to buy my child-ren.
So I set up a little oyster-board:—
and when anybody came along that want-ed
a few oysters and a cracker, I left my
wash-tub and waited upon him. When I
got a little money laid up, I went to my
mistress,and tried to buy one of my child-ren.
She knew not how long my heart
had been set upon it, and how hard I had
worked for it. But she wouldn't let me
have one! So I went to work again: and
I set up late o'night, in hopes I could earn
enough to tempt her. When I had two
hundred dollars, I went to her again: but
she thought she could find a better market,
and she wouldn't let me have one. At
last, what do you think that woman did ?
She sold me and five of my children to the
speculators.'
After a short pause, her face again
brightened up, and her voice suddenly
changed to a gay and sprightly tone.
'Surely, ma'am, there's always some
good comes of being kind to folks.—
While I kept my oyster-board, there was a
thin, peak^ looking man used to buy of
me. Sometimes he would say, 'Aunt
Charity, (he always cal'ed mo Aunt
Charity.) j;ou must fix me up a little
mess, for I feel poorly to-day. 1 always-made
something good for him; and if ho
didn't happen to have any change, I al-ways
trusted hfm. He liked my messes,
mighty well. Now who do you think that
should turn out to be, but the very specu-lator
that bought me! He come to me,
and says he, 'Aunt Charity, (he always
called me .^iint Charity,) you've been've-ry
good to me, and fixed tne up many a
nice little mess, w hen I've been poorly;—
and now you shall have your freedom for
it; and I'll give you your youngest child.'
That was very kind, said I ; but I wish
he had given you ail of them.
With alio'.iof great simplicity, and in
tones of expostulation, the slave-mother
replied, 'Oh, he couldn't afford that^ you
know.'
'Well,'continued she, 'after that,I con-cluded
I'd come to the Free States. But
mistress McKinley had one child of mine;
a boy about twelve years old. I had al-ways
set my heart upon buying Richard.
He was the image of his father; and my
husbaud was a nice, good man; and we
set stores by oop another. Besides,I was
always uneasy Tn my mind about Richard.
He was a spirity lad; and I knew it was
hard for him to be a slave.
Many a time I've said to him,- 'Richard,
let what will happen, never lift your hand
against your master.'
'But I knew it would always be hard
work for him to bring his mind to he a
slave. I carried all my money to my mis-tress,
and told her I had more due to roe ;
and if all of it wasn't enough to buy my
poor boy, I'd work hard, and send her all
my earnings, till she said I had paid
enough. Sheibietr she could trust me.—
She knew Charity always kept her word.
But she was a hard-hearted woman. She
wouldn't let me have my boy. With a
heavy heart, I went to work to earn moro,
in hopes I might one day be able to buy
him. To be sure, I didn't get much more
time than I did when I was a slave; for
mistress .was always calling upon me,aiid
1 didn't like to disoblige her. I wanted to
keep the right side of her, in hopes she'd
let me have my boy. One day she scat
me of an errand. I had to waifsome
time. When I come back, mistress was
counting a heap of bills in her lap. She
was a rich woman—she rolled in gold.
My'little girl stood behind her chair; and
as mistress counted the money—ten dol-lars—
twenty dollars—fifty dollars—I see
that she kepi crying. 1 thought may be
mistress had struck her. But I see the
tears keep rolling down her cheeks all the
time, I went up to her, and whispered,
'\Yhat's the matter?' She pointed to
mistress' lap, and said, 'Brodcr's money!
Broder's money!' Oh, then I understood
it all! I said to mistre.ss McKinley, '//ape
you sold my boy?' Without looking up
from couning her money, she drawled out,
'Yes, Charity; and I got a great price for
him!' [Here the colored woman imitated
to perfection, the languid, indolent tones
common to Southern ladies.]
'Oh, my heart was too full! She had
sent me away on an errand, because she
didn't want to be troubled with our cries.
I hadn't any chance to see my poor boy.
I shall never see him again in this world.
My heart felt as if it was under a great
load of lead. I couldn't speak a word to
reproach her. I never reproached her
from that day to this. As I went out of
the room, I lifted up my hands, and all I
could say was, 'Mistress, how could yoa
doit?'
The poor creature's voice had grown
more and more tremulous, as she pro-ceeded,
and was at length stifled with
sobs.
In a fow moments, she resumed hersto-"
ry: 'When my boy was gone, I thought I
might sure enough as well go to the Free
States. But mistress McKinley had a
little grandson of mine. His mothcrdicd
when he was born. I thought it would
be some comfort to me if I could buy lit-tle
orphan Sammy. So I carricd all ihe
money I had to mistress again, and asked
her if she would let me buy my grand,
son. But she wouldn't let me have him.
Then I had nothing more to wait for; so I
come bn to the Free Slates. Here I have
taken in washing, and my daughter is
smart at her needle, and we get a very
comfortable living.'
Do you ever hear from your children?
said I.
'Yes, ma'am I hear from one of them.
Mistress McKinley sold one to a lady that
comes to the North every summer; and
she brings my daughter with her.'
*Don't she know that it is a good
chance to take her freedom, when she
comes to the North?' said I.
'To be sure she knows that,^ replied
Charity, with significant emphasis. 'But
my daughter is pious. She's member of
achurch. Her mistress knows stie wouldn't
tell a lie for her right hand. She makes
her promise on the Bible, that she won't
try to run away, and that she will go back
to the South with her; and so, ma'am, for
her honor and her Christianity's sake, she
goes back into slavery.'
'Is her mistress kind to her?'
'Yes, ma'am; but then every one likes
to be free. Her mistress is very kind.
She says I may buy her for four hundred
Hollars; and that's a low price for her—
two hundred paid down, and the rest as
we can earn it. Kitly and I are trying to
lay up enough to buy her.'
'What has become of your mistress
McKinley? Do you ever hear from her?'
'Yes. ma'am, I often hear from her;—
and summer before last, as I was walking
up Broadway, with a basket of clean
clothes, who should I meet but my old
mistress McKinley! She gave a sort of a ^
start, and said in her drawling way. *0, |
Charity, is it youT Her voice sounded |
deep and hollow, as if it come from under
the ground; for she was far gone in a con-sumption.
If I wasn't mistaken, there
was a little something al>out Acre, (laying
her hand on her heart) that made her
feel strangely, when she met poor Chan-ty.
Says I, 'How do you do, mistress
McKinley? How docs little Sammy do?'
(That was my little grandson, you know,
that she wouldn't let me buy.)
'I'm poorly. Charity,' says she, ' very
poorly. Sammy's a smart boy. He's
grown tall, and tends table nicely. Every
^night I teach him his prayers.'
The indignant grandmother drawled
out the last word in a tone, which Garrick
himself could not have surpassed. Then
suddenly changing both voice and manner,
she added, in tones of earnest dignity, 'O!
I couldn't stand that! Good "morning,
ma'am,' said I.
1 smiled, as I enquired whether she had
heard from Mrs. McKinley sinc^.
'Yes, ma'am. The lady that brings
my daughter to the North every summer,
told me last Fall she didn't think she
could live long. When she went home,
she asked ine if I had any message to
send to my old mistress McKinley. I told
her I had a message to send. Tell her,
says I, to prepare to meet poor Charity at
the jwlgment seat.'
About a year after this conversation, 1
again visited New York, and called to see
Charity Bowery. 1 asked her if she had
heard any further tidings from her scat-tered
children. The tears came to her
eyes. 'You know I told you.' said she,
'that I found out my poor Richard was
sold to a Mr. Mitchell, of Alabama. A
white gentleman, who has been very kind ,
to me, went to them parts lately, and
brought me back news of Richard. His |
master ordered him to be flogged, and he |
wouldn't come up and be tied. 'If you
don't come up, you black rascal, I'll shoot
you,' said his master. 'Shoot away,'said
Richard; 'I won't come to be flogged.'—
His master pointed a pistol at him—and,
in two hours my boy was dead ! Richard
was a spirity lad. I always knew it was
hard for him to be a slave. Well-, he's
free now: and I shall soon be with him.'
lathe course of my conversation with
this interesting woman, she told me much
about tho patrols, who, armed with arbi-trary
power, and frequently intoxicated,
break into the houses of the colored peo-ple,
afid subject them to all manner of
outrages. But nothing seemed to have
excited her imagination so much as the
: insurrection of Nat Turner. The panic
' that prevailed throughout the slave States
' on that occasion, of course, reached her
ears in repeated echoes, and reasons ire
obvious why it should have awakened in-terest.
It was, in fact, a sort oV Hegira
to her mind, from which she was pronato
VOL. III. NO. 17.
date all important events in the history of
her limited world.
'On Sundays,' said she, 'I have seen the
negroes up in the country going away
under large oaks, and in secret places,
sitting in the woods with spelling book«.
The brightest and best men were killed in
Nat's time. Such ones are always'sus-pected.
All the colored folks were afraid
to pray in the time of that oM prophet
Nat. There was no law al)out it; but the
whites reported it round among them-selves,
that if a tiote was heard, we should
have some dreadful punishment; and after
that the low whites would fall upon any
slaves they heard praying or singing a
hymn, and often kill them before their
masters or mistresses could gettothrm.' •
I a.-<krd Charity to give me a specimen
of their hymns. In a voice cracked with
age, but still retaining considerable ^weet-ness,
she sang : *
A few more beatinps of the wind and rain,
hre the winter w ill be over—
Glorj", Hallelujah!
Some friends hjive aoiie before me;
I must try togoand meet them—
Gloty, Haaelujah I
A few more risin?* and settings of the stm.
t i c tho winter will be o v e r -
Glory, Hallehijah!
There's a better day a-coming—
There's a better dav a-comini;—
Oh,'Glory,Uailelnjah!
With a very arch expression, she look-ed
up as she concluded, and said, they
wouldn't let us sing that. They thought
we was going to rise, because we sung—
better days are coming.'
It is now more than a year since poor
Charity went 'where the wicked cease
from troubling and the weary are at rest.' •
DRTBOWRINO
BT D. W. BABTLETT.
This man, who is noted for his statcsman-hke
qu^ities and poetic genius, is about tho
age of fifty. His physiognomy is ahuoat a sin-gular
on«. His hair is of a black, which bor-ders
on the auburn, and is full of curls. His
fowhe^ ia round and lame. His eyes are
simU, but twiHHe hTe stars. In bodv, h« is
ot medium size and height—in short, save liis
forehead, there is nothing to distinguish him
from the thousands who walk the streets.
A few days since he called in tfl spend a
quiet hour with my friend Elihu Burritt and
myself. In conversation he is very interest-ing—
not impulsive, but ctxrf and calin, and yet
warm. In dress, he is like" all Englishmen of
any pretension, as plain as " a pike staff." An
Englishman of blood is one of the plainest of
mortals. The gaily-dressed persons whom
you meet in the streets, are poor clerks who
h.ive not money enough to live dccently. Jf
some Americatis I wot of,were obliged to dress
as plainly as Lord John Kasscll, or Sir Kobcrt
Peel, they would go mad with anguish.
There is a hearty kindness about Dr. Bow-ring,
that you feel when in his presence, which
affects you very like a mesmeriser's fingers.
Gooilness radiates from his soul to other souls,
like light and warmth from the ccntre sun to
other minor snns.
He is an excellent linguist—^is as perfectly
at home in the French and Italian, as he is in
the Enj^lish.
In early life lie was .issociated with JEREMY
BEXTH.\M, which had its effect upon him—
and it was not a bad one.
In 1822 he was arrested, while in France,
but through the demands of the English Gov
ernment he wu released, but forever banished.
In '3«, howeVerj he was the bearer of addresses
to Paris from the English p«ople at that crit-ical
period, when the democratic seemed tri-omphing
over the monarchical in France.
AV'hen the news of the second revolution, in
that country, came across the channel, the
people of England rung the bells, fired cannon,
and made Iwiifircs, until the nobility qnaked
in its shoes, and spent millions to put Louis
PIIILLIPPE on the throne of France. It
showed how strong is republicanism yet in
England. But although ^e aristocracy tri-umphed,
the agitation had its legitimate effect.
When the Reform Bill times came on, the
people did not get on their knees and heg it
from the Parliament; they stood up and de-mandetlit
Ah! that was a thrilling; time when
all England was in commotion. London was
harrangued at every comer. The Houses of
Parliament were surrounded by an immense
mob. That was a thrilling time when HENRY
BROUGIIAU got down upon his knees in the
House of Lo^s, and be<rged of the Duke of
Wellington to resi^ his ministry. But ho
would not, and the mfuriated populace broke
in the windows of his Apsley House ; he had
them ironed up, and they remain so to this
dav.
Dr. Bowring, in this awful commotion, as
ever, was the firm friend of the people, and it
was through the influence of him and his
brethren that the people were restrained from
doing much harm. At midnight the Duke re-signed,
and all England rejoiced. Dr. Bow-ring
is of strong republican tendencies, so as
to be exceedingly obnoxious to his noble
friends.
He has, for many years, been a member of
Parliament and a very useful one, toa His
strength lies in bis being a great statistician.
He is a bad orator—has no eloquence, without
facts and figures constitute ^oquence, and
they do sometimes. He never mues what ia
called a finished speech, and yet he ia a
statesman of the first order. Ha has an envia-ble
literary reputation. His Italian transla-tions
are very beautiful, but bis Russian
Hymns are the best of alL
Ho is a tme poet of pn^ress—not singing
the glory of battle-fields, but hymning the sor-rows
of the oppressed and afflicted, and point-ing,
with a prophetic finger, to the " better
time coming."
THERE'S two languages that's universal,
the languaM of love, and the language <d
money. The gals mtderstand the one, add the
men the other, all the world over.