has the appearance of being peculiarly and
specially a part of our individuality. It is
only another form of selfishness which, differ-
ently expressed, we all condemn.
And, sir, I maintain that this is another
dangerous anti-American idea, and one that
is the necessary accompaniment of the insti-
tution of slavery, is more universally diffused
throughout the slaveholding States than else-
where in this country, and, sir, it has been
unhesitatingly urged in this debate by the
gentleman from St. Mary's (Mr. Billingsley.)
With slaveholders, doubtless, it is more
firmly rooted, because right at the outset
they commence by indorsing the idea that
one man can be so far superior to another as
to own him, designate him as his property, and
do with him all that the word signifies. Will
not gentlemen see the injury done to the mas-
ter himself by this relation? He is thus at
once made a despot in spite of himself;
hence must follow all the ills of despotism to
the despot himself, a blunting of his natural
feelings, a restiveness under any kind of re-
straint.
Now, I wish to give some illustrations of
the effects of this system upon the feelings of
those who are surrounded by its influence,
and which admit the unusual and universal
hospitality of the Southern people, yet in
all directions touching this institution, their
feelings are blunted or depraved to a degree
beyond conception, and they are not probably
aware of it.
In Virginia, I once had a full conversation
with one who was a perfect gentleman, and
who was an intimate friend of mine, who
was in all respects a good man and a good
citizen; sociable, hospitable and kind, who
would do any main a favor just as soon as
the best of men. I had a conversation with
him in regard to his operations. In his early
youth, associated with a connexion of his,
he used to travel down to Richmond with
negroes, little and big, which he took there
to sell. I asked him whether be did not
frequently separate families; whether he did
not frequently take off the wife or the hus-
band and leave the child at home, or take
away the child, or separate the hus-
band and wife; and I asked him, did
not you, with your feelings, have a great
deal of hesitancy in engaging in that kind
of business? He said to me, calmly and
honestly, "At first, I tell you what it is, it
was just the hardest thing I ever went
through, but I soon got used to their squall-
ing, and latterly I did not notice it at all."
He could bear their "squalling," as he
termed it, without any feeling whatever.
I have some other matters of personal ex-
perience and intended to relate them, but
will not detain the Convention, to show how
the tendency of these things is to blunt the
feelings. But do gentlemen never reflect that |
abolitionists are frequently made in this way
in an instant? I think I was made one very
quickly in Richmond. The gentleman from
Baltimore city (Mr. Cushing) referred the
other day to the Boston fugitive slave case,
and said he was then a pro-slavery man;
but it is my candid opinion that he became
then and there an abolitionist. And now
let me read the testimony of General Richard
J. Oglesby, another slaveholder, the Union
candidate for Governor of Illinois:
" May I indulge myself for a moment to
give you a few of the reasons why I became
an anti-slavery man? [Yes, yes.] I know
that what affects the character of any one
man in the country is of hut little conse-
quence; still, it was a big thing with me, and
controlled all the future thoughts of my life—
made me honest on the question—made me
purely honest. My father was a slaveholder ;
he had awife and eight children, and only
one negro—[laughter]—and identified him-
self with the institution of slavery. He was
a Virginian born, living in Kentucky, a
cooper by trade. A negro fell to his lot
somehow, with other things, from his fa-
ther's estate. He took that negro, learned
him the carpenter's trade, he lived in the
family, while all the children were being born
he nursed us, took care of us, led us along by
the hand, and father (so I am told and I be-
lieve it's true) never gave him a lash or lick
or any unkind word. [Applause.] He was
one of the noblest black men I have ever
seen, After a while, in the course of events,
my parents died and left us poor—very poor.
I was eight years old. I saw that negro put
upon the stand and sold off at auction. That
did not concern me very much. I scarcely
knew what it meant. I saw those who were
my friends—whom I loved dearly, and still
love—I saw them about it. and supposed as
a buy that it was all right. That negro came
often to see us as he was taken away only
eight or ten miles. He was then forty years
of age. Shortly afterwards, a eon of the
purchaser, in the wrath and fire of the mo-
ment, exposed his old bare back and gave
him one hundred deliberate lashes. The news
came to us children through my married sis-
ter that sad story of how old Uncle Tim had
been treated. Something settled hold of me
then, young as I was, and I made a resolve,
for a boy, of quite a serious character, that
if ever in the providence of God I grew up
to be worth anything, enough to buy him
back to freedom, I would do if. His mister,
I presume, was as kind as they generally are.
It is not the owner of a slave I am abusing,
but the institution, I am striking at some-
thing higher than a man—the system
Time passed on and I remained poor. Fi-
nally, California became the rase, and I went
there. I got together money enough to come
back home and go to Kentucky. I kept my
promise; I bought him and set him free, and |
