I would not have a slave to till my ground, It is computed that there are two millions of slaves belonging to the United States of America; a similar number in the Brazils; and that the remainder are under the control of other governments. †The force and beauty of this passage will be best understood by the following statement. A slave, of the name of Somerset was brought over to England from the West Indies, by his master, Mr. Stewart. Shortly after, he absented himself, and refused to return. He was pursued and arrested, and by Mr. Stewart's orders forcibly put on board a ship, the captain of which was called Knowles. He was there detained in custody, to be carried out of the kingdom and sold. The case being made known was brought before Lord Chief Justice Mansfield, in the Court of King's Bench, June 22, 1772. The judgment of Lord Mansfield, on this occasion was as follows: A foreigner cannot be imprisoned here, on the authority of any law existing in his own country. The power of a master over his servant is different in all countries, more or less limited or extensive; the exercise of it therefore must always be regulated by the laws of ne place where exercised. The power claimed by this return was never in use here. No master ever was allowed here to take a slave by force, to be sold abroad, because he had deserted from his service, or for any other reason whatever. We cannot say the cause set forth by this return is allowed or approved of by the laws of this kingdom, and therefore the man must be discharged." In other words," says a report of the case, "a negro slave, coming from the lonies into Great Britain, becomes ipso facto Free." That's noble, and bespeaks a nation proud But, highly as we appreciate the manly spirit of the Englishman, and the ardor of the philanthropist, in the foregoing verses, it is the missionary feeling, glowing in the following passage, that we most admire, as expressing the only true mode of requiting injured Africa. Let us not think that we have discharged the debt by an act of emancipation.* In conferring the boon of liberty, we restore only that of which they ought never to have been deprived. Restitution is not compensation. We have grant.d compensation to the proprietor, but where is the compensation to the negro? Never will the accumulated wrongs of ages be redressed, till we say to the sable sons of Africa, Behold your God! We have burst the chains from the body, let us now convey to them the tidings of a nobler freedom, a deliverance from a worse captivity than even African bondage and oppression. Let us announce to them that God "hath made of one blood all nations of men that dwell on the face of the earth." Acts xvii. 26. Let their minds be expanded by instruction, and the Bible, that great charter of salvation, be circulated wherever it can be read, and thus Britain may acquire a lasting and an honor able title to their gratitude and love. Inform his mind; one flash of heavenly day Would heal his heart, and melt his chains away. "Beauty for ashes" is a gift indeed, And slaves, by truth enlarged, are doubly freed. *With what feelings of deep gratitude ought we to record the final emancipation of eight hundred thousand Negroes, in the West India Colonies, by an act which passed the British legislature, in the year 1834, dating the commencement of that memorable event from the first of August. The sum of twenty millions was voted to the proprietors of slaves, as a compensation for any loss they might incur. Mr. Wilberforce was at this time on his dying bed, as if his life had been protracted to witness this noble consummation of all his labors. When he heard of this splendid act of national generosity, he lifted up his feeble hands to heaven, exclaiming, "Thank God, that I have lived to see my country give twenty mil Lions to abolish slavery." The noble grant of the British and Foreign Bible Society (to commemorate this great event) of a copy of a New Testament and Psalter to every emancipated negro that was able to read, deserves to be recorded on this occasion. The measure originated in a suggestion of the Rev. Hugh Stowell. It was computed that, out of a population of eight hundred thousand negroes, one hundred and fifty thousand were capable of reading, and that ar expenditure of twenty thousand pounds would be necessary to supply this demand. Forty tons cubic measure of New Testaments were destined to Jamaica alone. The Colonial department was willing to assist in the transfer, but the Government packets were found to be too small for this purpose. It is greatly to the honor of some ship-owners, distinguished for their benevolence and public spirit, in the city of London, that they offered to convey this valuable deposit, free of freightage and expense, to its place of destination. The sum of fifteen thousand pounds was eventually contributed. Then would he say. submissive at thy feet, At my best home, if not exiled from thee." Charity. That Ethiopia shall one day stretch out her hands unto God we have the assurance of a specific prophecy, as well as the general declarations of sacred scripture. "All the ends of the world shall remember and turn into the Lord, and all the kindreds of the lations shall worship before thee." At what time or in what manner the prophecy will be accomplished, it is not for us to determine. But should it please divine providence that the light of the gospel, through the instrumentality of Britain, should first spring forth from among that people in our own West India colonies, the land of their former servitude and oppression; should they subsequently, with bowels yearning for their own country, see fit to return, seized with a desire to communicate to the land of their nativity that gospel, the power of which they have previously felt for themselves; and should the hitherto inaccessible and unexplored parts of that vast continent thus become evangelised, such an event will furnish one of the most remarkable instances of an over-ruling Power, educing good out of positive evil, ever recorded in the annals of mankind. We beg to add one more remark. The blacks are considered to be the descendants of Ham, who first peopled Africa. It pleased God to pronounce an awful curse on him and his posterity. "Cursed be Canaan, a servant of servants shall he be." For the long period of four thousand years has that curse impended over their heads. They have drunk the cup of bitterness to its lowest dregs. We conceive this terrible interdict to be now approaching to its termination. The curse began to be repealed, in part, when the abolition of slavery was first proclaimed by a British parliament. This was the seed-time of the future harvest: the example of Brit ain cannot be exhibited in vain: other nations must follow that example, or suffer the consequences of their neglect. They must concede the liberty which is the great inherent right of all mankind, or expect to behold it wrested from them amidst scenes of carnage and blood. Policy, justice, and humanity, therefore, require the concession. We have said that the repeal of the curse had begun in part; it will be completed when civil privileges shall be considered to be only the precursors of that more glorious liberty flowing from the communication of the gospel of peace. Then will Africa be raised up from her state of moral degradation, and be elevated to the rank and order of civilized nations. Then will she once more boast of her Cyprians, her Tertullians, and her Augustines; and the voice of the Lord, speaking from his high and holy place, will proclaim to her sable and afflicted sons, "Arise, shine, for thy light is come, and the glory of the Lord hath arisen upon thee." "There is neither Greek nor Jew, circumcision nor uncircumcision, barbarian, Scythian, bond, nor free: but Christ is all, and in all." Col. iii. 11. And seal'd with the same token. It is held How sweetly does the muse of Cowper proclaim the blessings of this spiritual liberty! But there is yet a liberty, unsung By poets, and by senators unprais'd, Which monarchs cannot grant, nor all the pow'rs Of earth and hell confed rate take away: A liberty which persecution, fraud, Oppressions. prisons, have no power to bind : Which whoso tastes can be enslav'd no more. 'Tis liberty of heart deriv'd from heav'n, Bought with His blood, who gave it to mankind, By charter, and that charter sanction'd sure By th' unimpeachable and awful oath And promise of a God. His other gifts All bear the royal stamp. that speaks them his, They are august; but this transcends them all. He is the freeman whom the truth makes free, And all are slaves beside. There's not a chain That hellish foes, confed'rate for his harm, Can wind around him, but he casts it off With as much ease as Samson his green withes. He looks abroad into the varied field Of nature, and though poor perhaps, compar'd With those whose mansions glitter in his sight, His are the mountains and the valleys his, Calls the delightful scen'ry all his own. And the resplendent rivers. His t'enjoy With a propriety that none can feel But who, with filial confidence inspir'd, Can lift to heav'n an unpresumptuous eye And smiling say My Father made them all!” Winter Morning Walk. its popularity at the present moment, must The interesting nature of the subject, and plead our excuse for these lengthened remarks and extracts. But we were anxious to prove how much this great cause of huits progress, to the powerful appeals and remanity was indebted, in the earlier stages of presentations of Cowper. We now resume the correspondence TO MRS. HILL.* Weston Lodge, March 17, 1788. My dear Madam-A thousand thanks to you for your obliging and most acceptable present, which I received safe this evening * Private correspondence. Had you known my occasions, you could not possibly have timed it more exactly. The Throckmorton family, who live in our neighborhood, and who sometimes take a dinner with us, were, by engagement made with them two or three days ago, appointed to dine with us just at the time when your turkey will be in perfection. A turkey from Wargrave, the residence of my friend, and a turkey, as I conclude, of your breeding, stands a fair chance, in my account, to excel all other turkeys; and the ham, its companion, will be no less welcome. I shall be happy to hear that my friend Joseph has recovered entirely from his late indisposition, which I was informed was gout; a distemper which, however painful in itself, brings at least some comfort with it, both for the patient and those who love him, the hope of length of days, and an exemption from numerous other evils. I wish him just so much of it as may serve for a confirmation of this hope, and not one twinge more. Your husband, my dear madam, told me, some time since, that a certain library of mine, concerning which I have heard no other tidings these five-and-twenty years, is still in being.* Hue and cry have been made after it in Old Palace-yard, but hitherto in vain. If he can inform a bookless student in what region, or in what nook, his longlost volumes may be found, he will render me an important service. I am likely to be furnished soon with shelves, which my cousin of New Norfolkstreet is about to send me; but furniture for these shelves I shall not presently procure, unless by recovering my stray authors. I am not young enough to think of making new collection, and shall probably possess myself of few books hereafter but such as I may put forth myself, which cost me nothing but what I can better spare than money a time and consideration. I beg, my dear madam, that you will give my love to my friend, and believe me, with the warmest sense of his and your kindness, Your most obliged and affectionate W. C. TO THE REV. JOHN NEWTON.† My dear Friend, The evening is almost orn away while I have been writing a letter, to which I was obliged to give immediate attention. An application from a lady, and backed by you, could not be less than irresistible. The lady, too, a daughter of Mr. Thornton's. Neither are these words of course: since I returned to Homer in good Cowper's books had been lost, owing to his original Wness, and his sudden removal to St. Alban's, Private correspondence. earnest, I turn out o my way for no consid eration that I can possibly put aside. With modern tunes I am unacquainted, and have therefore accommodated my verse to an old one; not se old, however, but that there will be songsters found old enough to remember it. The song is an admirable one for which it was made, and, though political, nearly, if not quite, as serious as mine. On such a subject as I had before me, it seems impossible not to be serious. I shall be happy if it meet with your and Lady Bal gonie's approbation. Of Mr. Bean I could say much; but have only time at present to say that I esteem and love him. On some future occasion I shall speak of him more at large. We rejoice that Mrs. Newton is better, and wish nothing more than her complete recov ery. Dr. Ford is to be pitied.* His wife, I suppose, is going to heaven; a journey which she can better afford to take than he to part with her. I am, my dear friend, with our united love to you all three, most truly yours, W. C. TO THE REV. WALTER BAGOT. My dear Friend,-The spring is come, but not, I suppose, that spring which our poets have celebrated. So I judge at least by the extreme severity of the season, sunless skies, and freezing blasts, surpassing all that we experienced in the depth of winter. How do you dispose of yourself in this howling be the weather what it may, take bark, and month of March? As for me, I walk daily, write verses. By the aid of such means as these I combat the north-east wind with some the hope of enjoying it, to the warmth of measure of success, and look forward, with summer. Have you seen a little volume, lately published, entitled, "The Manners of the Great?" It is said to have been written by Mr. Wilberforce, but whether actually written by him or not, is undoubtedly the work of some man intimately acquainted with the subject, a gentleman, and a man of letters. If it makes the impression on those to whom it is addressed, that may be in some degree expect ed from his arguments, and from his manner of pressing them, it will be well. But you and I have lived long enough in the world to know that the hope of a general reformation in any class of men whatever, or of women either, may easily be too sanguine. I have now given the last revisal to as *Dr. Ford was Vicar of Melton Mowbray, well known and respected, and a particular friend of Mr. Newton's. †The author of this work proved to be Miss Hannah More. much of my translation as was ready for it, and do not know that I shall bestow another single stroke of my pen on that part of it before I send it to the press. My business at present is with the sixteenth book, in which I have made some progress, but have not yet actually sent forth Patroclus to the battle. My first translation lies always before me; line by line I examine it as I proceed, and line by line reject it. I do not, however, hold myself altogether indebted to my critics for the better judgment that I seem to exercise in this matter now than in the first instance. By long study of him, I am in fact become much more familiar with Homer than at any time heretofore, and have possessed myself of such a taste of his manner, as is not to be attained by mere cursory reading for amusement. But, alas! 'tis after all a mortifying consideration that the majority of my judges hereafter, will be no judges of this. Græcum est, non potest legi, is a motto that would suit nine in ten of those who will give themselves airs about it, and pretend to like or to dislike. No matter. I know I shall please you, because I know what pleases you, and I am sure that I have done it. Adieu! my good friend, Ever affectionately yours, W. C. Cowper alludes in the following letters, to the progress of his version, and the obstructions to the negro cause. TO SAMUEL ROSE, ESQ. My dear Friend, I rejoice that you have so successfully performed so long a journey without the aid of hoofs or wheels. I do not know that a journey on foot exposes a man to more disasters than a carriage or a horse; perhaps it may be the safer way of travelling, but the novelty of it impressed me with some anxiety on your account. It seems almost incredible to myself that my company should be at all desirable to you, or to any man. I know so little of the world as it goes at present, and labor generally under such a depression of spirits, especially at those tires when I could wish to be most cheerful, that my own share in every conversation appears to me to be the most insipid thing imaginable. But you say you found it otherwise, and I will not for my own sake doubt your sincerity: de gustibus non est disputandum, and since such is yours, I shall leave you in quiet possession of it, wishing indeed both its continuance and increase. I shall not find a properer place in which to say, accept of Mrs. Unwin's acknowledgements, as well as mine, for the kindness of your expressions on this subject, and be assured of an undissembling welcome at all times, when it shall suit you to give us your company at Weston. As to her, she is one of the sincerest of the human race, and if she receives you with the appearance of pleasure, it is because she feels it. Her behavior on such occasions is with her an affair of conscience, and she dares nc more look a falsehood than utter one. It is almost time to tell you, that I have received the books safe; they have not suf fered the least detriment by the way, and I am much obliged to you for them. If my translation should be a little delayed in consequence of this favor of yours, you must take the blame on yourself. It is impossible not to read the notes of a commentator so learned, so judicious, and of so fine a taste as Dr. Clarke,* having him at one's elbow. Though he has been but few hours under my roof, I have already peeped at him, and find that he will be instar omnium to me. They are such notes exactly as I wanted. A translator of Homer should ever have somebody at hand to say, "That's a beauty," lest he should slumber where his author does not, not only depreciating, by such inadvertency, the work of his original, but depriving perhaps his own of an embellishment, which wanted only to be noticed. If you hear ballads sung in the streets on the hardships of the negroes in the islands, they are probably mine. It must be an honor to any man to have given a stroke to that chain, however feeble. I fear however that the attempt will fail. The tidings which have lately reached me from London concerning it are not the most encouraging. While the matter slept, or was but slightly adverted to, the English only had their share of shame in common with other nations on account of it. But, since it has been canvassed and searched to the bottom, since the public attention has been riveted to the horrible scheme, we can no longer plead either that we did not know it, or did not think of it. Woe be to us if we refuse the poor captives the re ress to which they have so clear a right, and prove ourselves in the sight of God and men, indifferent to all considerations but those of gain ! Adieu, W. C. TO LADY HESKETH. The Lodge, March 31, 1788. My dearest Cousin,-Mrs. Throckmorton * Well known for his celebrated works, on the "Being and attributes of God," and the "Evidences of Natural and Revealed Religion." †They were, after all, never appropriated to that purpose. The interests of commerce were too much at vari ance with this great cause of humanity not to oppose a long and persevering resistance to its progress in parlia not made a government question. ment. Though Mr. Pitt supported the measure, it was has promised to write to me. I beg that, as often as you shall see her, you will give her a smart pinch, and say, "Have you written to my cousin?" I build all my hopes of her performance on this expedient, and for so doing these my letters, not patent, shall be your sufficient warrant. You are thus to give her the question till she shall answer, "Yes." I have written one more song, and sent it. It is called the "Morning Dream," and may be sung to the tune of Tweed-Side, or any other tune that will suit it, for I am not nice on that subject. I would have copied it for you, had I not almost filled my sheet without it; but now, my dear, you must stay till the sweet sirens of London shall bring it to you, or, if that happy day should never ar-ly remonstrance, and pointed parable are ex-. rive, I hereby acknowledge myself your hausted. It is against the tree which bore debtor to that amount. I shall now prob- no fruit, the lamp which had no oil, the unably cease to sing of tortured negroes, a profitable servant who made no use of his theme which never pleased me, but which, talent, that the severe sentence is denounced, in the hope of doing them some little ser- as well as against corrupt fruit, bad oil, and vice, I was not unwilling to handle. talents ill employed. We are led to believe, from the same high authority, that omitted duties and neglected opportunities will furnish no inconsiderable portion of our future condemnation. A very awful part of the decision, in the great day of account, seems to be reserved merely for carelessness, omnissions, and negatives. Ye gave me no meat, ye gave me no drink; ye took me not in, ye visited me not. On the punishment attending positive crimes, as being more naturally obvious, it was not, perhaps, thought so necessary to insist."*" If anything could have raised Miss More to a higher place in my opinion than she possessed before, it could only be your information that, after all, she, and not Mr. Wilberforce, is author of that volume. How comes it to pass, that she, being a woman, writes with a force and energy, and a correctness hitherto arrogated by the men, and not very frequently displayed even by the men themselves? Adieu, W. C. This work was the first important appeal, in those days, addressed to the fashionable world, and Miss More's previous intercourse with it admirably qualified her to write with judgment and effect. charity wanted that principle which alone coud sanctify it. His views terminated here, this world's good, and this world's applause, were the motives and the end of his actions. He forgot God; he was destitute of piety; and the absence of this great and first principle of hu man actions rendered his shining deeds, however they might be admired among men, of no· value in the sight of God.” Admonitory statements like these are invaluable, and demand the earnest attention of those to whom they apply. Nor is the next passage less important on the subject of sins of omission. "It is not less against negative than against actual evil, that affectionate exhortation, live TO MRS. KING.t Weston Lodge, April 11, 1788. Dear Madam,-The melancholy that I have mentioned, and concerning which you are so kind as to inquire, is of a kind, so far as I know, peculiar to myself. It does not at all affect the operations of my mind on any sub The object of this valuable treatise is not to attack gross delinquencies, but to show the danger of resting for acceptance on mere outward decorum and general respectability of character, while the internal principle, which can alone elevate the affections of the heart and influence the life, is wanting. We select the following passage as powerfully illustrating this view. Speaking of the rich man, who is represented by our Lord as lifting up his eyes in torments, Miss More observes, "He committed no enormities, that have been transmitted to us; for that he dined well and dressed well could hardly incur the bitter penalty of eternal misery.ject to which I can attach it, whether serious That his expenses were suitable to his sta- or ludicrous, or whatsoever it may be; for tion, and his splendor proportioned to his which reason I am almost always employed opulence, does not exhibit any objection to either in reading or writing when I am not his character. Nor are we told that he re-engaged in conversation. A vacant hour is fused the crumbs which Lazarus solicited: my abhorrence, because when I am not occa and yet this man, on an authority we are not pied I suffer under the whole influence of my permitted to question, is represented in a unhappy temperament. I thank you for the future state as lifting up his eyes, being in recommendation of a medicine from which torments. His punishment seems to have you have received benefit yourself; but there been the consequence of an irreligious, a is hardly anything that I have not proved, worldly spirit: a heart corrupted by the however beneficial it may have been found by softnesses and delights of life. It was not others, in my own case utterly useless. I because he was rich, but because he trusted in riches; or, if even he was charitable, his *Thoughts on the Manners of the Great. |