NOTE I.

I wish to add a few statements to show how little reliance can be placed on what seem to a superficial observer mitigations or advantages of slavery, and how much safer it is to argue from the experience of all times and from the principles of human nature, than from insulated facts.

I once passed a colored woman at work on a plantation, who was singing apparently with animation, and whose general manners would have led me to set her down as the happiest of the gang. I said to her, "Your work seems pleasant to you." She replied, "No, Massa." Supposing that she referred to something particularly disagreeable in her immediate occupation, I said to her, "Tell me, then, what part of your work is most pleasant." She answered, with much emphasis, "No part pleasant. We forced to do it." These few words let me into the heart of the slave. I saw under its apparent lightness a human heart.

On this plantation, the most favored woman, whose life was the easiest, earnestly besought a friend of mine to buy her and put her in the way to earn her freedom. A daughter of this woman, very young, had fallen a victim to the manager of the estate. How far this cause influenced the exasperated mother, I did not learn.

I heard of an estate managed by an individual who was considered as singularly successful, and who was able to govern the slaves without the use of the whip. I was anxious to see him, and trusted that some discovery had been made favorable to humanity. I asked him how he was able to dispense with corporal punishment. He replied to me, with a very determined look, "The slaves know that the work must be done, and that it is better to do it without punishment than with it." In other words, the certainty and dread of chastisement were so impressed on them that they never incurred it.

I then found that the slaves on this well managed estate decreased in number. I asked the cause. He replied, with perfect frankness and ease, "The gang is not large enough for the estate." In other words, they were not equal to the work of the plantation and yet were made to do it, though with the certainty of abridging life.

On this plantation the huts were uncommonly convenient. There was an unusual air of neatness. A superficial observer would have called the slaves happy. Yet they were living under a severe, subduing discipline, and were overworked to a degree that shortened life.

I cannot forget my feelings on visiting a hospital belonging to the plantation of a gentleman highly esteemed for his virtues, and whose manners and conversation expressed much benevolence and conscientiousness. When I entered with him the hospital, the first object on which my eye fell was a young woman, very ill, probably approaching death. She was stretched on the floor. Her head rested on something like a pillow; but her body and limbs were extended on the hard boards. The owner, I doubt not, had, at least, as much kindness as myself; but he was so used to see the slaves living without common comforts, that the idea of unkindness in the present instance did not enter his mind.

The severest blow I ever saw given to a slave was inflicted by a colored driver on a young girl, who, on removing a load of wood from a horse, had let a stick fall against the animal's leg. I remonstrated with the man, as soon as an opportunity offered, against his inhumanity. He said, "Massa, I have the care of the horse, and the manager lick me if it get hurt." This answer explained to me the common remark, that the black drivers are more cruel than the whites. I saw where the cruelty began.

I once heard some slaves, who had been taken by law from their master, singing a song of their own composition, and at the end of every stanza they joined with a complaining tone in a chorus, of which the burden was, "We got no Massa." Here seemed a striking proof of attachment to the master; but on inquiry into the rest of the song, I found it was an angry repetition of the severities which they were suffering from the new superintendent. They wanted their master as an escape from cruelty.

Facts of this kind, which make no noise, which escape or mislead a casual observer, help to show the character of slavery more than occasional excesses of cruelty though these must be frequent. They show how deceptive are the appearances of good connected with it; and how much may be suffered under the manifestation of much kindness. It is, in fact, next to impossible to estimate precisely the evils of slavery. The slave writes no books, and the slaveholder is too inured to the system, and too much interested in it, to be able to comprehend it. Perhaps the Laws of the slave States are the most unexceptionable witnesses which we can obtain from that quarter; and the barbarity of these is decisive testimony against an institution which requires such means for its support.

NOTE II.

I think it right to state, that my views of abolitionism have been founded in part, perhaps chiefly, on the testimony of others. I have attended no abolition-meetings, and never heard an abolition-address. But the strong, and next to universal impression, in regard to the tendency of the operations of this party to inflame common minds, confirmed, as it is, by what I have seen of their newspapers, must be essentially true. The orator, who was chiefly employed in addressing their meetings and forming societies, was distinguished by his vehemence and passionate invectives. On one occasion, there is strong proof of his having given an opinion in favor of cruel vengeance on the part of the slaves. This seems to contradict what I have said of the steady inculcation of forbearance and non-resistance by the abolitionists. But this case, if correctly reported, was an exception, an ebullition of uncontrollable passion in an individual, for which the rest were not responsible. I have thought it my duty to state the kind of evidence on which my views of abolitionism are founded, that others may better judge what confidence is due to them. In times of great excitement, it is not easy to arrive at the precise truth.

NOTE III.

It was my purpose to address a chapter to the South, but the failure of strength compelled me to pause; and when I considered, that the circulation of my book in that part of the country might be a crime, I had no encouragement to proceed. I beg, however, to say, that nothing which I have written can have proceeded from unkind feeling towards the South; for in no other part of the country have my writings found a more gratifying reception; from no other part have I received stronger expressions of sympathy. To these I am certainly not insensible. My own feelings, had I consulted them, would have led me to stifle every expression, which could give pain to those from whom I have received nothing but good-will.

I wished to suggest to the slaveholders, that the excitement now prevalent among themselves, was incomparably more perilous, more fitted to stir up insurrection, than all the efforts of abolitionists, allowing these to be ever so corrupt. I also wished to remind the men of principle and influence in that part of the country, of the necessity of laying a check on lawless procedures, in regard to the citizens of the North. We have heard of large subscriptions at the South for the apprehension of some of the abolitionists in the free States, and for the transportation of them to parts of the country where they would meet the fate, which, it is said, they deserve. Undoubtedly the respectable portion of the slaveholding communities are not answerable for these measures. But does not policy, as well as principle, require such men steadily to discountenance them? At present, the free States have stronger sympathies with the South than ever before. But can it be supposed that they will suffer their citizens to be stolen, exposed to violence, and murdered, by other States? Would not such an outrage rouse them to feel and act as one man? Would it not identify the abolitionists with our most sacred rights? One kidnapped, murdered abolitionist would do more for the violent destruction of slavery than a thousand societies. His name would be sainted. The day of his death would be set apart for solemn heart-stirring commemoration. His blood would cry through the land with a thrilling voice, would pierce every dwelling, and find a response in every heart. Do men, under the light of the present day, need to be told, that enthusiasm is not a flame to be quenched with blood? On this point, good and wise men, and the friends of the country at the North and South, can hold but one opinion; and if the press, which, I grieve to say, has kept an ominous silence amidst the violations of law and rights, would but speak plainly and strongly, the danger would be past.

Since writing the preceding chapters, I have seen in a Newspaper some notice of a meeting of ministers in one of the Southern States, in which slavery was spoken of as sinful. If the account was correct, the liberty of speech is not every where denied to the degree which I had supposed.

I have only to add, that I alone am responsible for what I have now written. I represent no society, no body of men, no part of the country. I have written by no one's instigation, and with no one's encouragement, but solely from my own convictions. If offence is given, I alone ought to bear it.