SLAVERY AS A NATIONAL QUESTION.

The following brief essay is not intended to be an argumentative discussion of the subject upon which it treats. Discussions of that sort have abounded so much of late years, that there would be much more presumption than wisdom in any attempt to increase the number. But perhaps it may be matter of interest, now that the conflict has been going on for more than sixty years, to know something of its earlier phases, of its varied successes, and of the deeds done and the words spoken by those who fought the same battle long ago in the infancy of the republic. The region of historical research which we are about to explore, appears to be almost a terra incognita to the majority of the fiery debaters who now-a-days are prosecuting this wordy war; or if they occasionally plunge into it for a moment, it is only to hurry back in premature triumph, dragging captive some unhappy straggling passage of Jefferson or Jay, to serve as a bone of contention for a whole generation of self-constituted agitators in and out of Congress. Now if the object is merely to perpetuate the agitation, the course pursued is unquestionably a wise one; for, short as our national history is, the stock of facts which it supplies us with upon the subject is assuredly large enough, if used with but a tithe of the economy heretofore exhibited, to last till the Union and Time itself shall be no more. But there are some quiet spirits still left who get weary of this hopeless strife, and who can scarcely afford to adopt the advice of the Scotch clergyman-to wait for rest till they get to heaven; who cannot help calling out, "Peace, peace,' however discordant the answer may be; and who, if they needs must fight, would be glad to know what they're fighting about, fight in earnest and be done with it. To answer, then, at least one of these questions, and suggest to this rapidly increasing class precisely what the present phase of the battle is, and what hopes there are of final peace, this brief historical sketch is

attempted. The purpose is not, we repeat it, to discuss the subject; the author aims not at the dignity of a disputant; he is more than satisfied with the humbler task of supplying materials for those who do,-in hopes that if rage and anger have hitherto filled the place of armorers in our battle-field, history may in future discharge the duty a little more creditably. It is proposed, then, to trace the slavery question at length, so far as it has been the source of national difficulties, embarrassments and legislation, with especial reference to its earlier history, and to the clause in the Constitution respecting fugitives, which has lately been made the subject of Congressional action. It will not be necessary to extend our inquiries to any period anterior to the revolution, or in any way to examine the peculiar causes which first established and have long perpetuated slavery amongst us. Prior to that event, it was of course a question between Great Britain and her colonies, and nice casuistry might perhaps be needed to determine the relative amount of guilt chargeable on each of the two parties. The moral value, too, of a solemn judicial decision, "that no slave could breathe the air or stand on the free soil of England," may be a little questioned, when it is remembered that such property would of necessity be almost worthless in her climate; and that at the very moment when a reluctant Judge pronounced these boasted words, her capitalists were rolling in wealth that grew out of the sweat on negro brows in her American plantations. We have heard of high bred Southern families in which a thousand out-door slaves are never suffered to pollute the pure air of the saloons and chambers that their masters breathe, or tread the rich carpets that their toil has paid for. The custom is undoubtedly refined and agreeable, but we never heard that it boasted to rest on higher grounds than ordinary mortals venture on.

At the time of the declaration of independence, when the colonies escaped from their long pupilage, and, with new rights and new responsibilities, set out to act an independent part among the nations of the earth, the taint of slavery was upon every one of them; in every one, the soil was tilled by negro bondmen. The laws regulating the relations between master and slave, were, it is true, widely different in the different States; in some, as in Connecticut, the privileges annexed to the condition were

so wide and the facility of rising from it so great, that the constitutional euphemism which is now-a-days so boldly metaphorical, might with every propriety style them "persons held to service or labor;" in others, they were then, as now, a hopelessly degraded class, whose happiness depended entirely on the arbitrary will of their masters. Of course it is not intended to represent that the various States were equally interested in the institution. Varieties of soil, climate and social habits, had drawn the great mass of this population to what are now known as the Southern States. At the time of the Declaration, no authentic enumeration had been made; but when the first census was taken in 1791, the total number of slaves in what are now known as the Northern States, was 40,370; in the Southern, 653,910. At the earlier period of which we are now speaking, the disproportion was probably less striking, but sufficiently great to make the interests of the two sections totally opposite. The difference, however, did not depend merely upon the amount of capital invested. The feeling in the North, both moral and political, was decidedly and in many cases bitterly hostile to slavery. The most shortsighted, therefore, could not fail to foresee the speedy adoption of those measures which ultimately provided for general emancipation. Even in Virginia and Maryland, not then considered as Southern States, ardent advocates were found to plead the cause of liberty, and organized action had more than once been attempted in its behalf. Below the Virginia line, in the Carolinas and Georgia, an abolitionist was as rare a phenomenon then as he would be now; those States were yet but thinly settled, a great part of their lands unreclaimed, and no prospect of improvement appeared, except in the extensive employment of slave labor, adapted both to the climate and the character of the already established settlers.

Such was, briefly, the position of the two parties at the opening of our independent history; and such it was, also, when the Federal Convention met at Philadelphia in 1787, to frame the present Constitution. The question presented itself to this body in a threefold aspect-First, as to the influence which an enslaved race was entitled to exercise in the government; secondly, as to their further increase by importation; thirdly, as to

how far Congress and the Constitution were bound to provide for the security of this sort of property.

It

The first of these was rightly regarded at the time, as by far the most important, not only because of the magnitude of the interests directly involved in its decision, but still more so, because of the principles which, though scarcely remembered at present, were undoubtedly the basis of the Compromise, in which the deliberations of the convention resulted. A moment's reference to the slave census, referred to above, will show how great was the contrariety of interests involved, and give a tolerably correct idea of the influences by which the various States were governed in discussing the subject. For whatever pleasure it might give us to conceal the humiliating fact, candor will compel us to acknowledge, that even in those heroic times of our history, interest seldom gave way to any nobler feeling when a question like this was to be determined. The original claim set up by the South but abandoned upon the final vote-except by South Carolina, Georgia, and Delaware—was that the black population should be as largely represented in Congress, as the white. is impossible to give anything but a very brief outline of the arguments used upon both sides. Without venturing to insist upon the obvious absurdity, that an enslaved and helpless race were really entitled to representation because of any rights they themselves might have to defend or duties which they might be bound to discharge, the Southern members took the position, not regarded at that time as utterly heterodox, that a State is entitled to be represented, not merely because of its containing so many human beings, but because so many human beings are in reality only the exponent of so much wealth or so much power contributed by such State to the support of the general government. The federal value of the State is in direct proportion to the amount of this power, and what difference could it make whether it emanated as in the South from a race called slaves, supported at the direct expense of their masters, who supplied them liberally with all the necessaries of life; or as in the North, from a population occupying precisely the same relative position in the social scale, performing labor of the same description, maintained, though in a somewhat different way by the same capitalist, and called Freeman-if one were entitled to representation, why

not the other? The negro population was as essentially a producing power and as original an element of wealth as any body of free laborers could be, and therefore as fully entitled to have their interests consulted in the proceedings of a Government instituted for the express purpose of providing for the security of property. But in addition to this, they were entitled to make this claim not only as producers, but also as consumers of those foreign productions, the importation of which would form one great element of wealth in the Eastern States.

The fallacy of this reasoning, specious as it might seem, was warmly commented on and exposed by the opposite side. If the Southern slave was to be regarded as any other human being, and as possessed of those inalienable rights which the Declaration of Independence proudly claimed for all humanity, why not at once call him a citizen and give him the right to be represented, not by his master, but by himself? If he was nothing but property, why not speak out openly and attempt to make property the basis of representation, and the Government a tool in the hands of a moneyed aristocracy? It was conceded that the slaveholding States were at that time by far the wealthiest part of the confederacy, but this wealth of slavery was not and could not be an element of power, but rather of weakness and confusion. If it was argued that slaves filled, in the South, the same relative position as free laborers in the North, and their employment necessarily excluded to a great extent the introduction of a population which would otherwise be entitled to representation, then in the same way free and active mind, the only thing that deserves to be represented, was likewise excluded. But on a similar principle, the horses, cattle, and even the machinery of the North, which was nothing but a substitute for so much manual labor, were equally entitled to be heard on the floor of Congress. Why should property in one form go to Congress, and be shut out when it takes another and more human one? "The houses in Philadelphia alone," said Gouverneur Morris, "are worth all the wretched slaves that cover the rice swamps of South Carolina." He ridiculed the idea of treating the Southern slave as a consumer-"for the Bohea tea used by a Northern Freeman will pay more tax than the whole consumption of the miserable slave,