Congress can deal with the matter in virtue of some vague sovereignty,
without pointing out some express power in Congress to do so, leads
straight to imperialism. And thus on the whole, having a regard for the
future of America and its liberty, I stand with Douglas. I have read
Webster in his theories that the territories are property, and can
therefore be dealt with under the clause which empowers Congress to make
all needful laws and regulations for the territory and other property of
the United States. Well, why doesn't he go farther and let Congress at
one stroke emancipate the slaves? For a slave is certainly property, and
if needful rules and regulations as to the negro require his
emancipation, why can't he be emancipated under this clause? But if
territory is property, so is a slave. And if territory is property, who
owns the property? Why, all the states of course. And if they own the
land and own the slaves too, why can't they take into their own land,
unless they are forbidden to do so by a majority of the states,
representatives legislating under some clause of the Constitution which
gives them the right to do so?"

"Oh, yes," said Reverdy, "I have heard most of this before. But I'll
tell you: the first man of account who rises up to say that slavery is
wrong will be remembered, even if he is not honored. I am not talking
about all these agitators and fellows; nor even of Seward or of
Hale--they're too sharp and smart. I mean some man who puts the right
feeling into the thing like Mrs. Stowe did in her book. You see, I was
raised in Tennessee, and I don't care how you apologize for it, or make
it look like labor of other kinds, or prove that all labor is slavery,
just the same this negro slavery is vile. You can find good reasons for
anything you want to do. I don't know where we get our right and
wrong--it comes up from something deep in us. But when we get it, all
this argument that Douglas is so skillful in simply melts away. I really
wonder that so many women in the South favor slavery and that my mother
was so wedded to it, and Dorothy now."

We were passing now the house I had built. "Who lives there now?" I
asked. Reverdy gave me the name. It was not the man to whom I had sold
the farm. I thought of Fortescue. "Where is Fortescue?" "Oh, he lit out
from here," said Reverdy. "Do you know," I said, "I have thought it
possible that Zoe might not be dead." "How could that be?" "I don't
know. I feel that