The Continental Monthly, Vol. 2, No. 1, July, 1862
TekstCould any contemplative mind doubt for a moment the ability of the white population of the Union, if justly disposed, to raise the colored population of the country, in a short time, to the platform of a decent respectability? With unjust prejudice laid aside, and the work of beneficence acquiesced in, no one could reasonably doubt it. Who deserves best at the hands of the nation's power, the oppressor or the oppressed? The one that grasps at the throat of the nation and attempts its overthrow merely to perpetuate his power of oppression, or the other who is crying to humanity for protection? The voice of nature, if undefiled, will answer this question on the side of humanity—if not, necessity will.
The democratic theory which seeks to absolve humanity from oppression, is not confined to the resistance of a single despot. It goes in the same degree to a privileged class that arrogates to itself the right to oppress; nor does it stop at the half-way house of mere negative protection. It allows in its onward course the full fruition of 'equality before the law.' In theory, the law is the sovereign, and we seek to attach such qualities to that sovereign as are compatible with the general good of society. That theory places no man above the law, nor any man below its protection. As soon as the individual in society is raised to the point of negative protection, he is in a measure converted into a being of power. He can then appeal to his sovereign, the law, for the vindication of his rights. Experience is continually demonstrating that men are respected in proportion to their power to command respect. The very existence of slavery requires and demands the brutalization of the governing power that upholds it. Were society absolved from this tyranny, matters would begin to mend. Equalized protection would be the consequence. Protection, not only to the colored man, but protection in an almost equal degree to the non-slaveholding white population, hitherto brought under the ban of disability by a depressing pro-slavery policy.
Until recently, when the colored race in the United States was spoken of in connection with the subject of its release from oppression, it was subjected to the same arguments that kept the white men in slavery in olden times. The arguments of slaveholders were never truthful, and only convenient for themselves. They damaged the slave; they damaged every collateral interest; they damaged the strength of nationality; and more than all, they damaged every humane principle of civilization. The whole reasoning in favor of slaveholding has been a vicious fallacy; and perhaps the time has come, attended by sufficient calamity, to set the American population to thinking and acting in the right direction.
The colored people South are better fitted for freedom than is commonly imagined. They are quite well skilled in practical industry, more especially in agricultural pursuits. There are many of them qualified in skilled labor in the coarser mechanic arts. The whole of this population has been trained to diligent labor, under habits of continuous toil. It has acquired patience in performing labor, by the discipline which unremitting labor gives. The colored man South has not been brought up in idleness, or with habits calculated to make him a renegade. Were he permitted to enjoy the fruits of his industry, there can be no doubt of his disposition and patience to toil on. In case his rebel master would not hire him for wages, there would be enough amongst the non-slaveholding population who would. Production in the South, under emancipation of the slaves of rebel masters, would not materially fall off. Give to colored men the fruits of their industry, and many of them would soon set up for themselves. Perhaps in connection with the soil of the South, that yields most abundantly in annual value of product, the rest of the colored population would soon get to emulate the free colored people of Charleston. The law of subsistence would as much compel the South to go on without compulsory labor as it does the North, and there are just as many reasons for it in one section as in the other; that is, just none at all. Under emancipation, there is little doubt that actual production could and would soon be put on the increase, with better distribution of wealth, more widely diffused comforts, and a broader and better public policy. The only things that would be curtailed in their proportions would be slave-breeding, rebel-breeding, and ruffian cultivation.
It may, perhaps, continue to be easier for a time to strike the colored man than to strike off his shackles. There is a mean and low side of humanity, a sort of defiled infirmity, that runs into a disposition to strike the helpless. This is the bravery of ruffianism. There is apt to be a shrinking away from duty, when the contest involves a conflict with arrogant power. This is the cowardice of pusillanimity. The American citizen has been noted for his superior bravery. He has certainly shown himself brave in the battle-field, and more brave and determined than any other nation in the vindication and maintenance of the natural rights of the white man; but he is not done with the business of disenthrallment. His language is the language of liberty. It must not, it will not long continue to be spoken by slaves. This was the meaning of Jefferson, when he penned the text-words of disenthrallment: 'All men are created equal, endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights, among which are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.' Where is to be found the evidence that these rights have been forfeited? Who dare deny the right of the colored man morally, religiously, or politically, to assert them? It is true, we have hitherto acted in defiance of these acknowledged rights. We have outraged them. We have waged a shameful and shameless warfare against them. The sequences of that warfare are now upon us. The sin is now being atoned for in blood. It has not yet been ordained that the principles of injustice should have permanent duration. If not restrained by humane rationality, they will culminate in convulsion. The light is now breaking upon the heretofore obscured vision of the American people. We can now begin to see with clearness that the colored man's disenthrallment is to become the white man's future security. This would almost seem to be the harmony of divine justice in the affairs of men.
No substantial amelioration in the depressed condition of race or class has yet been brought about in disconnection with the powerful agency of such race or class. Human nature forbids it. The selfish tenacity of advantage, resting on what is misnamed 'vested rights,' but having its foundation in vested wrongs, yields only on compulsion. It is only when the depressed race or class, acting in somewhat intelligent concert, exhibits the disposition to aid in the purposes of protection, that the mercenary power succumbs to necessity. History furnishes no examples to the contrary. It may not be impossible that our own times may make history to corroborate the truth of these premises.
When it is asserted that the colored man is wanting in bravery, and is not endowed with the natural courage to assert and maintain his rights, we are apt to forget that physical bravery is a thing of cultivation. There is not the least evidence that, with military discipline and something to fight for, the colored population of the United States would not prove as brave as the black regiment of the Revolution. With such bravery as that regiment exhibited, the four millions and their prospective increase would require a gigantic force to make profitable slaves of them. Again, there is something beyond the protection from domestic violence that demands consideration, in connection with the military discipline of the colored man. We may reasonably expect that a large colonization in some quarter will soon take place, and be carried forward. Education and military discipline, in addition to knowledge in practical industry, are necessary concomitants to successful colonization. With these qualities, the colored man will cease to feel helpless, and be fitted for enterprise, he will have the confidence to go forward, and the aspirations to impel him. It may be the lot of the colored man to encounter in some foreign land powers and influences quite as barbarous as those he has hitherto encountered in the white man's prejudices. If he is armed for the encounter, he will have little inclination to shrink from it. Every humane consideration clusters to the policy of disenthralling the colored man, and of making him a being of power. Nothing can oppose it but the pro-slavery spirit that seeks to enslave the American mind to barbarism and the colored millions and their increase to perpetual bondage.
WATCHING THE STAG
[an unfinished poem, by fitz-james o'brien.]
Hela and I lie watching here,
Above us the sky and below the mere.
long
Through distant gorges the blue moors loom
Till the heath looks blue in the endless gloom.
The eagle screams from the misty cliff,
With a quivering lamb in his taloned griff.
And the echoes leap over hill and hollow,
As the old stag bells to the herd to follow.
The purpled heather is wet with mist,
Till it shines like a drownèd amethyst,
And the old, old rocks with furrowed faces
Start up like ghosts in the lonely places.
With forefeet crossed, stanch Hela lies
Watching my face through her half-closed eyes,
us
Between—is—is—stretched deer
While ^ I pillow my head on the stiffening stag
LITERARY NOTICES
Bayard Taylor's Prose Writing's. Vol. V. A Journey to Central Africa, with a Map and Illustrations by the Author. New-York: G.P. Putnam. Boston: A.K. Loring.
This work deservedly ranks as among the best, if not the best, by Bayard Taylor. The East, as we feel in his poems, was full of the scenes of his widely varied travels, that which most aroused his sympathy and stirred his artistic creative powers, and it is of the East that he speaks most freely and brilliantly. It was in Central Africa that he encountered his most thrilling adventures, and forgot, as we can there only do, the civilization of the Western World. Something we would say of the beautiful typography and paper of this series. If the term mise en scène were as applicable to books as to dramas, it might be truely said of Mr. Putnam's that they appear as well between boards as other works do upon them.
El Dorado. Prose Writings of Bayard Taylor. Vol. IV. New-York: G.P. Putnam. Boston: A.K. Loring. 1862.
Possibly some twenty years hence 'El Dorado' will be regarded as by far the best of Bayard Taylor's works—certain it is that in it he is among the pioneer describers of a land the early accounts of which will be carefully investigated and duly honored. In picturing lands, where others have been noting and sketching before, he is strong indeed who is not driven into mannerism; but in fresh fields and pastures new there is less danger of seeing through thrice-used spectacles. It is this consciousness of being the first that ever burst into their silent seas that made Herodotus and Tudela and Rubriquis and Mandeville so fresh and vigorous—and there is much of the same peculiar inspiration due to first-ness perceptible in this volume, which we cordially commend to all who would be California-learned or simply entertained. Somewhat we must say however of the fine paper, exquisite typography, and two neat steel engravings with which this 'Caxton' edition is made beautiful and most suitable either for a lady's étagere-book-shelf or the most elegant library.
Les Miserables. I. Fantine. by Victor Hugo. Translated by Charles E. Wilbour. New-York: Carleton. Boston: Crosby and Nichols. 1862.
A novel written twenty-five years ago by Victor Hugo is a curiosity. The present was kept in reserve because the sordid publisher, who had a contract for all of Hugo's works, would not give the sum demanded—the author kept raising his price—it was like Nero and the Sybil, or the converse of the conduct of the damsel who annually reduced her terms to Martial:
'Millia viginti quondam me Galla poposcit;
Annus abit: bis quina dabis sestertia? dixit.'
Finally the publisher died, the work was printed, and its first section now appears in 'Fantine'—a capital picture of life, manners, customs, in fact of almost every thing in France in 1817. It deals with much suffering, many sorrows, as its title indicates—for it is easier to make sensations out of pains than pleasures, and M. Hugo is preëminently and proverbially 'sensational.' Still it is deeply interesting, extremely well managed in all art-details, and above all things, is extremely humane—as a book by Victor Hugo could hardly fail to be. And as every page bears the impress of a certain characteristic originality of thought and of observation, we may safely predict that 'Fantine' will deservedly prove a success. We like the manner in which Mr. Wilbour has translated it—neither too slavishly nor too freely, but in one word, 'admirably.'
Artemus Ward his book. New-York; Carleton. Boston: N. Williams and Company. 1862.
Once in five or six years we have a new humorist—at one time a Jack Downing, then a Doesticks, then again a Phoenix-Derby. Last on the list we have 'Artemus Ward,' as set forth in letters to the Cleveland Plaindealer and Vanity Fair, purporting to come from the proprietor of a 'side-show,' as cheaper, or less than twenty-five cent exhibitions, are called in this country. To say that they are excellent, spirited, and racy—full of strong idioms of language and character, and abounding in novelties in type which are no novelties to those familiar with popular life—would be doing them faint justice. They embody a new and perfectly truthful conception of one of the multitude, and have nothing that is hackneyed in them.
It is a great test of real stuff in a writer when he dashes off, or picks up, phrases which are at once taken up by the people. 'Artemus Ward' has originated many of these, and is perhaps at the present day as much quoted 'in the broad and long' as any man in the country. It is needless to say that all who relish broad eccentric humor will find his Book very well worth reading. We regret that it does not embrace certain other excellent sketches which we know he has written, but trust that these will appear in due time in a second part or in a new edition. The volume before us is very neatly got up, well illustrated, and tastefully bound.
Lyrics for Freedom and Other Poems. Under the Auspices of the Continental Club. New-York: Carleton, 413 Broadway, Boston; Crosby and Nichols.
At a regular meeting of the 'Continental Club,' held at their rooms in New-York, it was resolved and carried that a volume of poems written by certain of the younger members be published 'under its auspices.' As a noted Democratic sheet, the Boston Courier, has declined to notice the volume on the plea that the name of the society from which it sprung suggested too forcibly the CONTINENTAL MONTHLY, possibly a favorable mention by us of our young New-York brother-in-literature may seem partial and too en-famille-iar to be fair. Be this as it may, we can not resist the expression of the honest conviction, for which we have many a good indorser, that while it would be a matter of some difficulty to compile a better collection of lyrics from the vast number which the war has thus far called forth, its production by a limited number of a single association is indeed remarkable. There is the right ring and the true feeling perceptible in all of them; earnest enthusiasm flowing bravely on the tide of musical words, and a clear conviction of the justice of our cause springing from liberal and progressive political views. It is enough indeed to say of most of the lyrics that they are written from a principle, and with faith in the necessity of Emancipation, and are not mere war-songs, full of commonplace, as applicable to one cause as another. They are songs of the American war of freedom in 1861, and as such will rank high in our literary history.
The Rejected Stone; or, Insurrection versus Resurrection in America. By a Native of Virginia. Second Edition, Boston: Walker, Wise and Company. 1862.
We are as gratified at the reappearance of this glorious work as we are astonished to learn that it has only reached a second edition. As it is beyond comparison the most remarkable literary result thus far of the war, as it has made a strong sensation in very varied circles, as it is a book which has given rise to anecdotes, and as its wild eloquence, bizarre humor and intense earnestness, have caused it to be read with a relish even by many who dissent from its politics, we had supposed that ere this its sale had reached at least its tenth edition. Meanwhile we commend it to all, assuring them that as a fearless, outspoken work, grasping boldly at the exciting questions of the day, it has not its equal. We should mention that in the present edition we find given the name of its author, the well-known and eloquent Rev. Moncure D. Conway, formerly of Virginia, now of Cincinnati.
Our Flag: A Poem in Four Cantos. By T.H. Underwood. New-York: Carleton. Boston: N. Williams. 1862.
During the past year Mr. Underwood has published several poems of remarkable merit, referring to the war. In the present we have a work of higher ambition, and one which is truly well done. In it the horrors of slavery, the iniquitous abuses to which it so often gives rise—the tortures, vengeances, murders, and fiendish punishments, which in their turn follow the crime—are portrayed with striking truthfulness and real power. The author is evidently no Abolitionist on hear-say—the whole poem gives evidence of practical familiarity with 'the institution,' and the sense of truth has inspired his pen in many passages with wonderful power. The terrible sufferings of an almost white man and slave as here portrayed, his revenge and punishment at the stake, are as moving as they are manifestly true to life. We commend this little pamphlet-poem to every friend of freedom, and sincerely trust that it will attain the large circulation which it deserves.
Sketches of the Rise, Progress, and Decline of Secession. With a Narrative of Personal Adventures among the Rebels. By W.G. Brownlow, Editor of the Knoxville Whig. Philadelphia: Geo. W. Childs. 1862.
A decided character this 'Parson Brownlow,' and a representative man; truly and bravely American, very Western in his traits; a man fond of fierce argument and tough antagonisms, and not fearing the death either by halter or revolver, which he will probably meet some day, for the sake of Jehovah and his own stern convictions. Not exactly a man of salons and elegant réunions—yet full of real courtesies and gifted with the kind heart of a true hater of wickedness, which flashes into fury at witnessing deeds of cruelty and shame. And he has seen many such—seen what few have done and lived—he has passed through a life's warfare with men of his own grim obstinacy without his own honesty and stern Puritan-like morality. We have followed his course for years—we have met him 'afore-time,' when quite other subjects of quarrel engaged him, and could have prophesied then with tolerable accuracy what part he would play when it came to a question between bayonets and prisons for the truth.
As we have hinted, he is a splendid hater, and a ferocious antagonist, a prince of vituperators and a very vitriol-thrower of savage sarcasms at his enemies and those of humanity. And why should he not be all of this, when we consider that in the stage whereon his part of life is played a more delicate student of all the proprieties would have about the same chances of success as attended the unfortunate cat which ventured without claws among panthers. Measure such men by their moral worth and by the good they do, and do not require of the hard-shell Methodist preacher and tough polemical grappler with Satan in his most bristly and thick-skinned Western incarnations that he display too much delicacy. Those who will read his book may gather from it, beyond the interesting personal and political narrative of which it consists, many useful and curious hints as to the social development of America and of what men the country is truly made. It is a real work—one of value—interesting to all, and very truly one of the monuments of this war and of the scenes which preceded it in Tennessee.