The Cause and Cure of the Present Civil War.
[THE following is an extract from a sermon by F. H. Callagher of Michigan. It presents a striking analogy between the present rebellion, and one of old time. Yet it is not so much for this that it is presented to the readers of the Review, as on account of certain facts it contains in regard to slavery, with which all should acquaint themselves. It will help us to understand the symbol of Rev. xiii, 11, to remember that this government from within a short time of its foundation to the present, has made itself the obsequious servant of one of the most diabolical systems that has ever cursed the earth.—U. S.] "Then said Joab, I may not tarry thus with thee. And he took three darts in his hand and thrust them through the heart of Absalom, while he was yet alive in the midst of the oak." 2 Sam. xviii, 14. THE destiny of a nation is often hinged upon the particular turn which events may take at some critical period in the history of that nation. The ship of state must encounter storms in its voyage; it must sometimes thread intricate, narrow, winding channels. Some years ago I made the voyage from San Francisco to Panama. The greater part of the distance we ran simply by the compass. The man at the helm was instructed to hold the vessel on a particular course. But here and there along the coast there are clusters of rocky islands, lying in the pathway of the steamers. When passing among these, our captain did not trust alone to the compass as guide, but standing himself high upon his promenade, with keen eye he scanned the rocks and the curling of the waters in front of the vessel, with his hand motioning to the right or the left, and by a line of officers the word was passed back to the man at the wheel. Thus we passed safely, though danger—certain destruction—was on either side of us. To rely upon the compass then, would have been to drive his steamer upon the rocks, and to send her to the bottom speedily. Now this will serve to illustrate the point I wish to bring before you. In general it may be safe to run the ship of state by the compass, when the skies are clear and the waters smooth. But there are times when he who has the vessel in charge must take his stand on some commanding point, and issue his mandates, to port or starboard, as the circumstances may demand, avoiding the sunken rock on the one hand, and the treacherous quicksand upon the other. Happy that nation which in such an hour has the right man in the right place, with keen eye to discern the danger, and prompt to utter the command. In that critical period in the history of the nation of Israel, some of the leading events of which are related in the chapter from which our text is taken, that people were blest in having just such a man, not seated upon the throne, indeed, but only one step below the throne—Joab, the commander-in-chief of David's armies. One of king David's sons, a very wicked and abandoned young man, who through his father's tenderness and love had received many favors, and had much forgiven him, at last, as the crowning act of his life of wickedness, raised the standard of rebellion against his father and king, by having himself proclaimed king of Israel. The army of rebels moved at once upon Jerusalem. David and his few followers retreated, and, crossing the river Jordan, sought refuge in the city of Mahanaim, in the territory of the tribe of Gad. The usurper, finding the capital and the throne vacated, took possession, and by the advice of his wicked and artful counsellor, Ahithophel, proceeded at once to the perpetration of such outrages against his father, as effectually to banish from the minds of his followers all hope, all thought, of reconciliation or even compromise with the exiled king. After such delays as were unavoidable, he mustered his forces and pursued the fugitive, determined to seek him out wherever he might be, and force him to a general engagement, not so much for the purpose of defeating his army as of slaying the king. It was neither proper nor safe for David to retreat further. He had abandoned his throne and kingdom, his capital and treasures; but the usurper was now in hot pursuit, thirsting for his blood. It was determined to make a stand before the city of Mahanaim. David mustered and organized the scant forces that were with him, and sent them forth to meet the far-outnumbering foe. As they took their departure from the city, the king himself stood at the gate to deliver to them his last charge before they joined in the shock of battle. Doubtless it was expected that he should remind them of the great interests at stake; of the honor conferred upon them in having so mighty a trust committed to them; that he should remind them of former battles in which their enemies had been smitten before them; of the fact that right and justice were on their side, and by considerations such as these, exhort them to be valiant and play the man. But they heard nothing of all this; the king was no king that day. At the gate of the city sat only the doting father, with all his thoughts and anxieties gathering about that dashing but rebellious son, who, yonder on the other side of the plain, at the border of the wood of Ephraim, was leading on his rebellious army against the life of his father. "Deal gently for my sake with the young man, even with Absalom." This was his only command—his last and only charge as the columns of armed men swept by. The crown and the kingdom were forgotten; all those mighty interests staked upon the issue of that struggle were forgotten; the king was swallowed up in the father. "Deal gently for my sake with the young man, even with Absalom." In silence, and doubtless in surprise, the little army moved on to the field of battle. Soon the hosts of the enemy, with gaily flaunting banners and glittering arms, appeared before them. Quickly the line of battle was formed, and the well-disciplined troops of king David, led by the two sons of Zeruiah and the brave prince Ittai, swept down upon the half-trained multitude that followed Absalom, resistless as the descent of the Alpine avalanche. Their lines were quickly broken, confusion followed, they fled in terror and dismay, leaving twenty thousand of their number dead upon the field. But what of Absalom? Doubtless he was a brave man, for he came of a war-like family, and it is highly probable that he made earnest and desperate efforts to rally his frightened and fleeing soldiers, to dispute more obstinately for the mastery of the field. Doubtless he well understood the desperate stake for which he played, and felt that the loss of this battle was the loss of everything. But in the confusion, passing beneath an oak, his head became in some way entangled, and the mule upon which he rode, careless of its rider, went on its way, leaving him suspended between heaven and earth. This being reported to Joab, he hastened to the spot, thrust three darts through the heart of the wicked and rebellious prince, and thus completed the victory by cutting off the head of the rebellion. This being accomplished, he sounded the recall and stopped the pursuit and slaughter. Thus Joab, with the intuition of true genius, grasped the real position of matters; with steady, fearless hand struck from its place the key-stone of the arch, and at once the whole rebellious fabric crumbled and fell. He understood well that the stake at issue was not simply the result of this one battle, but the peace and safety of the nation. Should Absalom escape, another rebellious army might be gathered, another battle must be fought, again the hills and plains of Israel must be reddened with the blood of twenty thousand of her sons. Therefore in the spirit of genuine humanity and patriotism, at the risk of his position in the army and of his life—in direct disobedience to the command of the king, he killed with his own hand the rebel prince. Now it appears to me that some of the leading characteristics of Absalom's rebellion against his father, king David, find their parallel in that rebellion which,90for the past twelve months, has torn and distracted our once happy country. And I wish here to give you some of my own views and impressions on the subject. I do not ask any one to adopt my views. I shall not quarrel with any one who disagrees with me. I only ask a candid, fair, charitable hearing. 1. The rebellious prince, the Absalom, in this case, is Slavery. This has been denied at home and abroad—in this country and in Europe. It has been denied in the North and in the South. But I do not believe there is a candid, intelligent, unprejudiced man from Maine to California, from Minnesota to Florida, who has a doubt on the subject. That there are other subordinate causes which have their influence, we all know; disappointed political aspirations, personal ambition, sectional animosities, etc.; but all these are subordinate to Slavery in this struggle, and some of them are its own immediate offspring. I am well aware that there are those who maintain that the anti-slavery sentiment of the North is the cause of the war. This is true just thus far; if no one had opposed the claims of Slavery in any of its interests, real or imagined, then there would have been no quarrel, no fight. This appears to be a very plain case. Since this struggle began, I received a letter from a friend in the South, who stated that President Lincoln, by refusing to evacuate Fort Sumter, inaugurated the civil war. There is just as much truth and just as much good sense in that as in the other. I suppose it is safe to assume that if our government had surrendered all the forts, arsenals, ship-yards, and other Federal property in the South, together with Washington city, the border States, and whatever else these commissioners whom the rebels, in their anxiety to avoid bloodshed, sent to Washington, something over a year ago, to treat with the government as to terms of separation—and in addition to all this, in the acknowledgment of this Southern Confederacy, had not amply pledged themselves for all time to come, to grant unto their Southern brethren whatever they might demand in addition to these things, at once and without remonstrance—I think it safe to assume that some such arrangement as this might have avoided this present civil war; provided that the people in the North would have submitted to it. I do not think it could have been avoided by any compromise falling much short of this which I have indicated. This is a rebellion against true democracy. The sovereignty in this land rests in the people. It began to be evident to the Southern leaders that in order to establish Slavery firmly upon the throne, it was necessary to dethrone the people. Hence, in the inaugural address of their leader, Jeff. Davis, he boldly avows that this is a rebellion against what he is pleased to call the despotism of numbers—what we call the rule of the majority, the will of the masses, the majesty of the people. There is one fact which, if it stood entirely alone, is enough to establish beyond reasonable doubt the fact that Slavery is the cause of this war; it is this: The adopted Constitution of the so-called Confederacy presents but one point of essential difference from the Constitution of the United States; that one point of difference is this: It recognizes the right of property in man. In other essential features, it is little more than a transcript of ours. I suppose, however, it is not necessary to argue this point. Most of us agree on this; I pass to the consideration of the next. 2. Slavery has been again and again, in an especial manner, highly favored by this government. I can mention but a few particulars in which this is shown. About forty years since, Slavery said to the government, "I want Missouri; and, whereas the territory west of Missouri seems to be mostly barren deserts and mountains, I am willing to agree that north of a certain line, and west of Missouri, there shall be no slave States, and we will call this a compromise." The government consented, and politicians said, "Now the question is settled, and all trouble is over." A few years later Slavery came forward again and said, "A large number of negroes have escaped from their owners in the South, and are among the Indians in the forests and everglades of Florida. In order to recapture them I must have blood-hounds and an army of soldiers. This will involve an enormous outlay of money. I therefore demand that government import the bloodhounds, and furnish and equip the army, and pay all the bills." The obedient government did all this. After a few more years Slavery came forward once more and said, "There is a large region of country, fertile, and having a climate suitable to the peculiar products in which I delight. I do not need it, but would like to have it. It belongs to Mexico, and is sometimes called the Republic of Texas. Get it for me." Again the complacent government proceeded to gratify the whim of this pampered pet. Texas was annexed, and her debts, which we assumed, together with the cost of the war that resulted, amounted to something between one hundred and one hundred and fifty millions of dollars. In 1849 and 1850, Slavery came up to Washington city and said to government, "Individual fragments of the peculiar institution are furnished with heads and feet, and now and then they escape. You must increase my facilities for recapturing them." "Certainy I will do so," said the government; and hence that glorious compromise of 1850; that compromise which would have immortalized Henry Clay and Daniel Webster, had they not already been immortalized; that compromise which we were assured would forever settle the whole question, and give us perfect and perpetual peace. It was embodied in a fugitive-slave law, in some of its provisions disgraceful to humanity, to say nothing of civilization and Christianity. And how long did this perpetual pacification continue? Just three and a half years. On the most liberal construction, just three and a half years. For at the end of that time, Slavery came forward and said, "I find that west of Missouri, and north of 36° 30', there is a territory called Kansas, which would be useful to me. In order that I may secure it you must repeal the Missouri compromise, and you must send the right kind of men there as territorial officers." Government did all this. But God and nature and fifteen millions of free people opposed the scheme and defeated it. This, I believe, was the first defeat of Slavery, but it was through no fault of the government. James Buchanan and his cabinet were faithful to this spoiled favorite throughout the whole of that struggle. In 1860, when the Republican party nominated Abraham Lincoln, Slavery said to the people of the United States, "Do not vote for that man. I hate him, and will not permit him to be President." The people said, "We like him," and they elected him. At once the standard of rebellion was flung out upon the breeze, and, like Absalom of old, the rebels have used every means to drive matters to extremity. Some of their leaders declared at the outset that they desired and would accept no compromise. And that declaration has never been disclaimed. They resorted to every insult, and to all forms of violence to exasperate the loyal people. They were greedy for war, and they have it. 3. Slavery has been guilty of much violence against the citizens of the United States; has committed many and grievous sins in this respect, and yet has been forgiven. Our Constitution allows no interference with a man's religious sentiments; yet any time for the last thirty or forty years Slavery has been ready to tar and feather, or even hang, the man who should dare maintain that it is contrary to the spirit and teaching of the gospel of love, to seize a wife and a mother, and, in the presence of her husband and children, tie her up, and give her nine-and-thirty with the cow-skin, well laid on, for a very trivial offense. It is, and for years has been, ready to punish with fine and imprisonment that man or woman whose religion should lead them to attempt to teach a colored person to read the word of God. For about twenty years such has been the absolute despotism of Slavery, south of Mason & Dixon's line, that at the cry of "Abolitionist" a mob could be raised at any hour of the day or night, and any stranger who might happen to be within their reach, seized upon, dragged to the nearest tree and hung, and no question would be asked, no grand jury would investigate the matter, no judge would charge them to do so. Yet our Constitution undertakes to guarantee to every man an impartial trial by jury, a fair, full hearing, and legal counsel if desired. Slavery has not hesitated to shut the doors of the churches against any minister deemed disloyal or unsound on this great question, and even to banish such from its realms; and then a successor, entering the pulpit thus vacated, would reverently thank God that his lot was cast in a land of religious liberty. Slavery could take an obnoxious printing-press, break it up and throw it into the river, as it has done again and again, within my knowledge. It killed Rev. Mr. Lovejoy, of Alton, Ills., just because he believed Slavery wrong, and had the courage to say so. It would have killed Dr. David Nelson, author of "Cause and Cure of Infidelity," one of the holiest and most lovely men that ever lived, had he not escaped by flight. Its victims are numbered by hundreds, if not by thousands; victims who have been sacrificed without any of the forms of law. In like manner Slavery has and does still prevent the administration of justice under the forms of law. A few years ago, in the place where I was at the time living, a negro was indicted for some criminal offense (no matter what), he was tried, found guilty, sentenced, and suffered the penalty. Afterward I had a conversation with one of the jurors who tried the case, and he told me he did not think they would have returned a verdict of guilty, had it not been that the accused wore such a saucy, defiant look during the trial. I was startled to hear such an avowal. Here was a man of substance and respectability, a man of home influence, acknowledging to me that a jury, of which he was a member, solemnly sworn to try a man accused of a grave criminal offense, according to the law and testimony, found him guilty—not upon the law and testimony—but on account of a certain impertinent expression of countenance. I mentioned the circumstance afterward to a lawyer; he seemed rather amused; it was only a nigger! Somewhere about the beginning of the year 1859, a party of armed men from Platte Co., Mo., made an incursion into Kansas, and captured one Dr. Doy. They brought him back with them, and imprisoned him in the county jail. In due time he was indicted for enticing away slaves from Missouri. The case was brought to St. Joseph, where I was at that time, and tried there. I was present at the trial, and conversed with one of the most intelligent jurors afterward. So far as I could learn or understand, there was no evidence that Dr. Doy had ever been inside of the State of Missouri, until brought over from Kansas by his kidnappers. But Slavery demanded the victim, and so he was convicted and sentenced, if I recollect aright, to five years in the State prison. Now, these are only specimens, and rather mild ones, of the outrages committed by Slavery upon the citizens of the United States; all of which has been meekly borne by our government for the sake of peace. One-tenth part of such provocations from any other power on earth, would have brought on war, and that speedily. Now this is the spoiled, pampered pet of our government—the Absalom. And this it is which now grapples the throat, and strikes at the life of the nation. And has not the same foolish, mistaken tenderness been displayed in this case that David showed for his rebellious son? Have not instructions been sent to all our foreign ministers to assure every one abroad that Absalom should not be hurt? When, last year, one of our men in the western department, in a Joab-like spirit, was about to thrust a dart through the heart of this rebellious power, was not a modification speedily and "cheerfully" sent on from head-quarters, which, without any great violence, might have been made to read, "Deal gently with the peculiar institution?" Have not our civil rulers, our military leaders, many of our newspaper writers, and citizens in every station in life, with an infatuation which is now unaccountable, striven to save slavery in this struggle? It looks to me like seeking to heal a wound, while a poisoned arrow rankles therein. Absalom went into the battle—"upon a mule, and the mule went under the thick boughs of a great oak, and he was taken up between the heavens and the earth; and the mule that was under him went away." Slavery went into this rebellion mounted upon the idea that "Cotton is king." Instead of the great oak, it has encountered blockade—tight, suffocating. There it hangs now by the head. Where is the Joab to thrust three darts through its heart while yet alive? In this way, and in this way only, I believe, may we hope for speedy and abiding peace. But, it is sometimes asked, are we not able to crush this rebellion and maintain the integrity of our government and Union, without resorting to this measure?91I do not know. I believe we are able to do this, if God will allow us to. But I doubt, in my inmost soul I doubt, whether he will allow it. I believe that Joab would have been able to suppress the rebellion without killing Absalom. I think it most likely that with his well-trained veteran warriors, he could have defeated the insurgents on any battle-field, until they should have become utterly disheartened. I do not suppose that Joab had any doubt on this subject. During all the twenty-five years that he had led the armies of Israel, he had never lost a battle. In all the record of that stormy and eventful period, in which the son of Zeruiah led the hosts of Israel, we search in vain for a single defeat. But Joab wished to save blood-shed, to avoid a protracted and exhausting war. While Absalom lived, the rebellion would have a head; though defeated again and again, yet again and again would he muster armies and take the field. But Absalom slain, the motive for rebellion would be removed, and peace must speedily follow. So it appears to me to be in this case. While slavery exists as a distinct interest and power, it will fight against this government. Remove it, abolish it, kill it, and the pretext for rebellion will be taken away. There has been from the first nothing but a mere pretext; yet that just out of the way, and war will soon cease, and we will have a peace that will be worth something. A peace which God can approve, a peace bringing with it blessings far greater than any we have yet enjoyed. But it appears to me that considerations loftier, holier, than any yet indicated, enter into this question. During the whole of our past national existence, we, a Christian people, have been cherishing an enormous wrong, a gigantic sin. We have stopped our ears and hardened our hearts against the sighs and groans of the poor and needy, the down-trodden and oppressed; we have enriched ourselves with the fruit of the black man's unrequited toil. Whenever any friend of liberty has made any efforts in his behalf, or he himself has risen up to shake his chains in an earnest effort to regain his God-given rights, our government has stood ready and pledged to lend its whole power to thicken those chains, and rivet them more securely. In the past and in all the events of this war, God speaks to this nation, saying, "Let this people go." I believe that the path of safety lies in obedience to that command. I fear every other course.