o; for it was now the nineteenth century.
Abstract law? Certainly not; for law is the perfection of reason--it
always tends to conform thereto--and that which is not reason is not
law. Well did Justinian write: "Live honestly, hurt nobody, and render
to every one his just dues." The law of nations? Verily not; for it
is a system of rules deducible from reason and natural justice, and
established by universal consent, to regulate the conduct and mutual
intercourse between independent States. The Declaration of
Independence? Far from it; because the prologue of that incomparable
instrument recites: "_We hold these truths to be self-evident--that
all_ MEN _are created equal; that they are endowed by their Creator
with certain unalienable Rights; that among these are life, liberty,
and the pursuit of happiness; that, to secure these rights,
governments are instituted among men, deriving their just powers from
the consent of the governed._" And the peerless George Bancroft has
added: "The heart of Jefferson in writing the Declaration, and of
Congress in adopting it, beat for all humanity; the assertion of right
was made for all mankind and all coming generations, without any
exception whatever; for the proposition which admits of exceptions can
never be self-evident." There was but one authority for slavery left,
and that was the Bible.

Many slave-holders thought deeply on the question of their right to
hold slaves. A disturbed conscience cried aloud for a "Thus saith the
Lord," and the pulpit was charged with the task of quieting the
general disquietude. The divine origin of slavery was heard from a
thousand pulpits. God, who never writes a poor hand, had written upon
the brow of every Negro, the word "_Slave_"; slavery was their normal
condition, and the white man was God's agent in the United States to
carry out the prophecy of Noah respecting the descendants of Ham;
while St. Paul had sent Onesimus back to his owner, and had written,
"Servants, obey your masters."

But apologetic preaching did not seem to silence the gnawing of a
guilty conscience. Upon the battle-fields of two great wars; in the
army and in the navy, the Negroes had demonstrated their worth and
manhood. They had stood with the undrilled minute-men along the dusty
roads leading from Lexington and Concord to Boston, against the
skilled redcoats of boastful Britain. They were among the faithful
little band that held Bunker Hill against overwhelming odds