Editorial Remarks.

EDITORIAL REMARKS.

We are somewhat surprised that our correspondent should cherish any doubts on this subject. 'All things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them.' Slavery is a system of robbery, practised upon million of our fellow beings—a war upon human rights, a cruel depredation upon the earnings of industrious labor. They who pursue it are guilty of crimes, which, if committed against white people, would bring them to the pillory, the prison, or the gallows. Now, the laws of a state cannot nullify the principles of equity, nor make wrong right. The abettors of crime are as guilty as the perpetrators. The assertions which have been made are true—that the consumers of the productions of slave labor contribute to a fund for supporting slavery with all its abominations—that they are the Alpha and the Omega of the business—that the slave-dealer, the slave-holder, and the slave-driver, are virtually the agents of the consumer, for by holding out the temptation, he is the original cause, the first mover in the horrid process—that we are called upon to refuse those articles of luxury, which are obtained at an absolute and lavish waste of the blood of our fellow men—and that a merchant, who loads his vessel with the proceeds of slavery, does nearly as much at helping forward the slave trade, as he that loads his vessel in Africa with slaves; they are both twisting the same rope at different ends.

A few interrogations will suffice to illustrate this business.

If a merchant patronise a pirate, who has plundered vessels on the high seas, and pay him liberally for so doing, is he not himself a pirate in principle? Is it true that 'the receiver is as had as the thief?' Is not the man who bribes his companion to stab a third person to the heart, the greater criminal of the two, though he shed no blood?

There can be no difficulty here. Every body will answer in the affirmative. These are self-evident truths. Now for the application.

Why are the slaves held in bondage? Certainly, not to fulfil any prophecy;—not on the ground of benevolence;—not because their liberation would be dangerous;—no such thing;— but because they are profitable to their owners. Who are the principal consumers of the products of slave labor? The free states. They furnish a good market for the South. They say to her, 'Raise all the cotton that you can, and we will manufacture the raw material. We will consume your rice, your tobacco, your sugar and molasses, and give you higher prices than you can obtain elsewhere.' What is this, but putting an immense bribe into the hands of the slaveholders to kidnap, steal and oppress? Were it not for our patronage, they would be compelled to liberate their slaves; for as soon as slave labor becomes unprofitable, there is an end to the system. The prophecy of Mr. Randolph will then be fulfilled: the slaves will not run away from their masters, but the masters from their slaves. We are, then, the warmest and most efficient supporters of slavery, and feel no compunctious visitings of conscience, in purchasing those things which are stolen, and which have been moistened with the tears and blood of the slave. Remember the questions which were propounded, and the verdict of 'Guilty,' which was given. If 'the receiver is as bad as the thief," surely he is more criminal who gives a yearly salary to the robber. Is there any flaw in the argument? Are not the cases parallel?

As to the 'arguments' which 'A.O.' adduces against abstaining from the products of slavery, they are not worth a straw. Suppose the slavites should 'send their goods to Europe, and retaliate on us, by refusing to purchase our articles'—what then? Better, far better, that our intercourse cease, than that we should uphold the bloody system of slavery by our patronage. Shall we purchase stolen goods to win the good-will of a thief? Are our consciences to be sacrificed to our interests? What kind of morality is this? But our example would be lost, and our abstinence like taking a drop from the ocean—the people would continue to eat, and the poor slaves obtain no relief! Suppose we grant it—are we to live in sin because others choose thus to live? Are we never to reform ourselves because we cannot reform others? A good example is never lost; and if it be, it should nevertheless be given as unshrinkingly as if it were destined to reclaim the universe.

We are not conscious that our own articles in the Liberator have 'manifested an unchristian spirit.' Slaveholders, as men, are entitled to equal consideration with others; but, as tyrants and men-stealers, they deserve no courtesy. Positive assertions and strong denunciations are warranted by the examples of Christ, and the apostles, and the prophets. We are not among the number who cry—

'Pray, spare the person, but expose the vice.' But we exclaim—

'How! not expose the sharper, but the dice!'

Not only did our revolutionary fathers hurl. 'bitter denunciations upon their oppressors,' but they slew them by thousands;—the same thing has been done in Hayti, South America, and France—and is now doing in Poland. Do you approve of these proceedings 'A.O.'? Or are you not one of the world's patriots?

In concluding our remarks at this time, we may quote the following pertinent article from the Genius of Universal Emancipation:

A late description, by a respectable eye-witness, of the cruelties practised at the present time on the Sugar plantations in the West Indian Islands, concludes with the following impressive words:

'If you dare to do it, after what you have just read, take another spoonful of sugar to your cup of tea, and it is a hundred to one if there is not a tear of anguish and horror blended along with it. Indeed, I would venture to assert, at any stake, (if it were possible to ascertain,) that there is not a hogshead of Sugar ever leaves the island, without having many of them in it.'

Will our readers 'choose Sugar in their tea?' Will they indulge their palates with a blood-bought sweetness—a luxury of which it may be truly said, when we consider all the wickedness and the misery which its culture has produced,—that the awful price is immortal souls! We reply in the language used by a writer in the 'Negro's Forget Me Not:'

No, dear Lady, none for me!
Though squeamish some may think it,
West Indian Sugar spoils my tea,
I cannot, dare not, drink it.

The simple produce of the cane
Excites no strong objections,
But with it comes a ghastly train
Of dreadful recollections.

True, the plant was freely given,
Kindly given to man to rear it;
Freely fall the dews of heaven,
Freely shine the rays that cheer it.

But what suffering and what guilt
Attend its cultivation—
What groans arise, what blood is spilt,
What bitter lamentation!

And can I taste a single grain,
Produced by such oppression;
The fruit of so much grief and pain,
The Negro's sad possession?