elcome to a place in the sacred canon.
There let it remain as a luminous and powerful defense of the cause of
emancipation!
But what with Prof. Stuart? "If any one doubts, let him take the case of
Paul's sending Onesimus back to Philemon, with an apology for his
running away, and sending him back to be his servant for life."[A]
[Footnote A: See his letter to Dr. Fisk, supra p. 8.]
"Paul sent back Onesimus to Philemon." By what process? Did the apostle,
a prisoner at Rome, seize upon the fugitive, and drag him before some
heartless and perfidious "Judge," for authority to send him back to
Colosse? Did he hurry his victim away from the presence of the fat and
supple magistrate, to be driven under chains and the lash to the field
of unrequited toil, whence he had escaped? Had the apostle been like
some teachers in the American churches, he might, as a professor of
sacred literature in one of our seminaries, or a preacher of the gospel
to the rich in some of our cities, have consented thus to subserve the
"peculiar" interests of a dear slaveholding brother. But the venerable
champion of truth and freedom was himself under bonds in the imperial
city, waiting for the crown of martyrdom. He wrote a letter to the
church at Colosse, which was accustomed to meet at the house of
Philemon, and another letter to that magnanimous disciple, and sent them
by the hand of Onesimus. So much for _the way_ in which Onesimus was
sent back to his master.
A slave escapes from a patriarch in Georgia, and seeks a refuge in the
parish of the Connecticut doctor, who once gave public notice that he
saw no reason for caring for the servitude of his fellow men.[B] Under
his influence, Caesar becomes a Christian convert. Burning with love for
the son whom he hath begotten in the gospel, our doctor resolves to send
him back to his master. Accordingly, he writes a letter, gives it to
Caesar, and bids him return, staff in hand, to the "corner-stone of our
republican institutions." Now, what would any Caesar do, who had ever
felt a link of slavery's chain? As he left his _spiritual father_,
should we be surprized to hear him say to himself, What, return of my
own accord to the man who, with the hand of a robber, plucked me from my
mother's bosom!--for whom I have been so often drenched in the sweat of
unrequited toil!--whose violence so often cut my flesh and scarred my
limbs!--who shut out every ray of light from my mind!--who laid claim to
those
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